Four years in Upper Burma

by W. R. Winston

CHAPTER III.
MANDALAY IN 1887.

It was with feelings of no common interest that we disembarked from the steamer at Mandalay, and took our first glimpse of the place. The bustle of so many passengers disembarking created a very busy scene, and dense clouds of dust arose, so that we were glad to get away as soon as possible. We proceeded to charter one of the conveyances we found there waiting for hire, a peculiar kind of vehicle, resembling in size and appearance a dog kennel set on a pair of high wheels, and it proved a marvel of inconvenience. You climb up with difficulty, thrust yourself through the small aperture as best you can, for it is no easy matter, and then you stow yourself away, sitting down on the floor of the conveyance with your knees about your ears. It is quite impossible to preserve a dignified demeanour in one of these bullock gharries, and yet, sad to relate, it was found that this was the only kind of conveyance available for His Majesty the King, when he was removed from the palace to the river on his way to India.

The matter created quite a difficulty. To have mounted the king on such an occasion on a horse or an elephant would have been cruel mockery. At that time there were no horse gharries in Mandalay. They brought a dhooly first, but the king declined point blank to enter it. The bullock gharry was the best arrangement they could devise.

One of the first things that attracted our attention was the inordinately gorgeous appearance of some things, and the very primitive and mean condition of others. This mixture of grandeur and shabbiness is quite an Oriental trait. The royal city and palace, the pagodas and the monasteries, were most sumptuous in style of building and decoration, but everything else looked very poor in comparison. The bamboo houses of the people looked small and frail and cheap. The roads, which we consider amongst the first essentials of civilised life, were as bad as they could be. They were of mere mud, which became dust several inches deep in dry weather, and a quagmire when it rained. The dense clouds of dust that rose wherever there was much traffic formed an experience truly distressing.

Mandalay has been said to be remarkable for three things, Phoongyees, Pagodas and Pariah dogs. The phoongyees are the brethren of the yellow robe, the Buddhist monks, who are to be seen in Mandalay by thousands, and all through the country in like proportion to the population. The pagodas form here as everywhere in Upper Burma a feature in every landscape. The pariah dogs are uncommonly numerous. You might guess at once you were in a Buddhist country from the thousands of homeless, poor, emaciated, mangy creatures, nobody’s dogs, that roam over the city, eating anything they can pick up, the vilest refuse, and acting as the scavengers of the place. They are never on any consideration killed by the Buddhists, but suffered to multiply to any extent. As you walk about you often come upon eight or ten of these dogs at a time, and they seem as if they would tear you to pieces; but though they seem so savage and so numerous they prefer to keep at a safe distance.

Passing through the streets of the town, a drive of about two miles brought us to the moat outside the walls of the royal city. The city is in the form of a square, each face of which is over a mile in extent, and is surrounded by an enormous brick wall twenty-six feet high, many feet in thickness, and with battlements on the top. Outside the city walls is a broad open space of ground all the way round, and outside of that is a deep, broad moat, intended to serve the double purpose of military defence for the city, and of supplying drinking water to the inhabitants.

For the purpose of communicating between the city and the town outside are five gateways, two on the townward or west side, and one on each of the others, with gates of enormous size and strength. Over each gate is a lofty and handsome tower built of teak wood, and rising to a point. Here and there along the walls at stated intervals, and facing the ends of the streets of the town, which run at right angles to the wall, are smaller towers of similar style, that serve to adorn the great wall of the city, and give it quite a handsome appearance.

At the time I speak of the walled city was inhabited by a large population of Burmans, chiefly people who had been in close connection with the palace; but owing to the decision of Government to make this place the military cantonment, the five thousand houses within the walls have been all cleared out, compensation being paid according to the value, and a very handsome cantonment has been made of it, with barracks for European and Indian troops. As the great majority of the houses were of teak or bamboo, this was not nearly so serious a matter as it might seem. The cantonment is now known by the name of Fort Dufferin.