A Civil Servant in Burma

by Sir Herbert Thirkell White

After spending rather more than a year in Europe, I was tempted back to Burma by the offer of the post of Chief Judge in succession to Mr. Copleston, who retired from the Service. I held the office for three years, from 1902 to 1905. These are years of pleasant memory, mainly on account of the very cordial relations with my colleagues, and especially the kindness and friendship of the barrister Judges. Of the Bar also I have a grateful remembrance. Its members were pleased to speak appreciatively of me on my departure. I risk the double edge.

The most interesting event of these years was the Durbar at Delhi held by Lord Curzon on New Year’s Day, 1903, to celebrate the Coronation of His Majesty King Edward VII. I do not propose to tell a twice-told tale by describing the Durbar and its attendant ceremonies. But a brief reference may be permitted. A splendid pageant was the State Entry, with its long line of richly caparisoned elephants, its dazzling array of Chiefs in gorgeous vestments, seen by thousands from the terraces of the Jamma Musjid. Glorious and soul-stirring was the Durbar itself with all the pomp of heraldry and blazonry of colour. Perhaps the most moving incident was the appearance of a body of Mutiny veterans, conspicuous among them white-haired men of many Indian races who had been faithful to their salt. The Shan chiefs, humble folk among the stately Indian Rajas, were yet in their grotesque attire a picturesque feature of the State Entry, and attracted notice as they paid homage at the Durbar. Not soon to be forgotten was the review of native retainers, where the followers of many Chiefs displayed curious customs and equipment handed down from remote antiquity. Perhaps the most charming ceremony was the State Ball in the Diwan-i-Am (with supper in the Diwan-i-Khas), where Europeans and Indians, gleaming with gold and jewels and radiant colour, flashed and glittered in the historic halls of the Moguls. The conception of the Durbar and of the incidents grouped round that memorable scene was worthy of the great event which they celebrated. The Burma camp was, as usual, admirably arranged and managed; the griffins, which characteristically guarded the gateway, a piece of Burma set down in the Punjab plain. The guests hospitably entertained there owe a debt of gratitude to Sir Frederic and Lady Fryer and His Honour’s able and courteous staff for many pleasant days. That fortnight remains in my mind as a charming episode.

In 1905, Lord Curzon appointed me to be Lieutenant-Governor in succession to Sir Hugh Barnes, who went to the Council of India. Sir Harvey Adamson became Chief Judge.

Early in 1906 the Province was honoured by the visit of the Prince and Princess of Wales. Their Royal Highnesses were received with unbounded enthusiasm by all classes and races in Burma. Their gracious kindness and consideration had the happiest effect in exciting the loyalty of the Burmese people. To Rangoon and Mandalay, Shan chiefs and many strange folk from remote hills and valleys, Chins, Kachins, Karens, Was, Padaungs, Brès, flocked to do homage. Proceeding down the river to Prome in a steamer fitted up by the Flotilla Company, Their Royal Highnesses saw a great deal of the country in a short time. The memory of their visit will not fade from the minds of those privileged to see them, and will be handed down as a glowing tradition to posterity.

Next year the Duke and Duchess of Connaught and Princess Patricia came to Burma, and were welcomed with acclamation. Their Royal Highnesses visited Rangoon, Mandalay, and Pagan, thus seeing the most interesting places in the Province.

In 1907 the Viceroy, Lord Minto, with Lady Minto, paid us a visit, and spent nearly a month in Burma. Their Excellencies saw Rangoon, Mandalay, Lashio, Myitkyina, Bhamo, Pagan, and Prome. Coming, like Lord Curzon, early in his term of office, Lord Minto obtained an insight into the conditions of Burma, and became interested in the Province. The most memorable incident of his visit was the Durbar held by His Excellency in the Eastern Hall of Audience in the Palace at Mandalay, the first public ceremony held there since Lord Dufferin’s Levée in 1886.

Although to Lord Curzon I owed my appointment as Lieutenant-Governor, I was not in Burma at the time of his visit, nor was it my privilege to serve directly under him for many months. Most illustrious of the eminent statesmen who have held the high office of Viceroy of India, Lord Curzon left, regretted by all who had at heart the interests of the Empire and the good of the people. It is presumptuous of me to attempt any appreciation of his work or to raise my feeble voice in eulogy. Yet, having served under him, I cannot be altogether silent. Lord Curzon set the example of the loftiest ideal. Inspiring the heartiest enthusiasm in those brought into personal relations with him, he spared no pains to raise the standard of efficiency, to reform abuses, to promote the well-being of the people of India. When the dust of controversy shall have been laid, the historian will see clearly, in true perspective, how noble a task he accomplished in the years, all too few, of his Viceroyalty.

So long as Burma remains a Province of India, her geographical position will place her at a disadvantage in comparison with other Provinces. Members of Council pay sparing and infrequent visits, and seldom have any knowledge of the country and the people. Nor has the Lieutenant-Governor many opportunities of visiting the headquarters of Government. Only once, towards the end of my term of office, did I go to Calcutta. While I was at Government House, except one Member who came on a private excursion, giving me no warning of his coming, and whom I never saw, only two Members of Council, Sir Denzil Ibbetson,[262] and Mr. W. L. Harvey, came to Burma. It was a pleasure and a privilege to make the acquaintance of Sir Denzil Ibbetson. His coming, though unavoidably deferred till the last moment, was of advantage to the Province. The same may be said of Mr. Harvey’s visit. Sir Denzil Ibbetson and Mr. Harvey were lost to India soon afterwards. Both were men of character, ability, and distinction, whom we could ill spare.

Distance and the pressure of overwhelming official cares kept away the Financial Member.[263] This was specially to be regretted. For the new Provincial Settlement, cynically styled a Contract, was discussed and determined. The debate was one-sided, and recalled the schoolboys’ tag: “Si rixa est, ubi tu pulsas, ego vapulo tantum.”