Four years in Upper Burma

by W. R. Winston

There also many other meetings were held in those days of “Field Service,” when we had all to be satisfied with such accommodation as we could get. It was there our prayer-meetings and class-meetings were held for the soldiers, and there, amidst that wilderness of pillars, under that vast heathen shrine, we had the joy of directing anxious penitents to the Saviour, and there, too, we held, in company with Major Yates of the Royal Artillery, the first temperance meeting ever held in Mandalay.

Leaving this Bethel of ours at the basement of the Incomparable Pagoda, and ascending by one of the fine broad flights of steps, the visitor comes to the wooden platform of the pagoda, and on being ushered in by the polite old abbot or presiding monk, he sees a very fine, spacious building, very lofty, with many images of Buddha, sheltered under great white canopies, besides some curiosities of European manufacture, such as mirrors of vast size, and gigantic coloured glass chandeliers, that must have been imported at immense cost.

But the sight of the place is the hall which contains the marvellous wood carvings in relief, all of Burmese workmanship, representing most clearly all manner of sacred histories and incidents, the whole of this elaborate and ingenious work being overlaid with gold leaf. Truly Mandalay is a wonderful place for religious buildings.

Close beside the Incomparable Pagoda are to be seen the Ku-tho-daw or Royal Merit pagodas, forming a unique and truly wonderful piece of work. They consist of a triple square of sets of little white pagodas, each of which is amply large enough to form a shrine for one large slab of Burmese marble, which stands up in the middle, like a cemetery headstone, enshrined each in its own neat, bell-shaped pagoda building. Each slab of marble is covered completely with a most accurately executed inscription in the Pali language, in letters about three-eighths of an inch in length. I have never counted these pagodas, but I am told by those who have that there are 730 of them in all. They are arranged in perfect symmetry, forming three squares one within another, each square being surrounded by a wall with handsomely carved gates. In the centre of the innermost square is a large pagoda, and ascending the steps of that the spectator can obtain a good view of the whole, extending over many acres of ground. The whole space between the rows of pagodas is carefully paved with bricks. Every part of the work has been most thoroughly carried out, utterly regardless of expense, and everything is of the best. There is no crowding, but ample space is given everywhere. Is there to be found anywhere or in any religion a more striking, impressive and unique example of thoughtful devotion and loving care of those writings supposed to contain the sacred truth? These 730 pagodas contain 730 tables of stone covered with inscriptions, and it is considered to be the best edition extant of the text of the three Pitakahs, and the three Pitakahs are the scriptures of Buddhism, acknowledged as authoritative wherever Buddhism is the people’s faith.

Close by the Ku-tho-daw we found another marvel. In a tall brick building is an immense marble sitting figure of Buddha, 25 feet high, scores of tons in weight, and thought to be perhaps the largest monolith in the world.

But it is time we returned to the three men who, after a long, hot and tiring day in the dusty streets of Mandalay, had taken refuge in the little monastery, and were preparing to pass the night. Though little was said about it, we were well aware that we ran some risks in being there at that time. Upper Burma was still in the throes of the revolution which had taken place, and life and property were unsafe. Any day a rising might take place. We were practically in an enemy’s country. The military were then, and for more than a year after, on the footing of a Field Force, and had constantly to patrol the country in small columns, and to go in all directions in pursuit of dacoits. Conflicts with dacoits were of daily occurrence, and bulletins were published daily by the military authorities describing what took place.

With all this military and police activity there were still bands of dacoits of considerable numbers; crimes of violence and dacoit raids were constantly taking place, often with circumstances of revolting cruelty and outrage. The state of the country was such that English ladies and children were in official circles forbidden to come to live in Upper Burma, and in unofficial circles dissuaded from it as much as possible; the authorities could not undertake to protect them. No Englishman was allowed then, and for two years after that time, to travel outside the towns without military escort. Those were days when everybody who possessed a revolver kept it handy in case he should need to defend himself, and Government was glad to supply to every Englishman in the country a rifle and ammunition to be ready in case of need.

Under these circumstances, with so much that was new and strange, it is not much to wonder at if we committed ourselves that night to Divine protection with more than usual fervency of petition. Our monastery was not built to meet such an emergency, and had no proper fastenings to the doors. Our carnal weapons consisted of one revolver and several stout bamboos, which having disposed to the best advantage, we lay down on our camp beds, and rested as well as the circumstances permitted.

Happily this state of things has now passed away, and Upper Burma is as quiet as any other part of our Eastern possessions. During the few days Mr. Brown remained with us in Mandalay we came to the conclusion that this city, from its size and population (about ten times as large as any other town in Upper Burma), and from its general importance, was by far the best place to fix upon for the headquarters of the mission. Having settled this point, we reported to the committee in London accordingly, and Mr. Brown returned to Calcutta. After spending a fortnight in our monastery we found that, as it was on the extreme east of the town and a couple of miles from the centre, it was a very inconvenient place to live in. We therefore moved to a more central position, and rented for the time being a house belonging to an elderly Italian, who had been settled in Mandalay for many years as a weaver of velvet in the service of the king. Here we lived for a period of a year, by which time the new mission house was built, and we removed to our permanent quarters.