I had arranged to hold a Durbar at Mandalay on the 5th of August, in order to meet the notables of Burma, and such of the Shan chiefs as might be able to come, face to face, and to make them understand the position, the intentions, and the power of the British Government. I hoped, perhaps not in vain, that the spirit of my words might penetrate to the towns and villages of Burma.

Meanwhile I had not visited Bhamo, and I decided to go there. I had sent for Mr. Hildebrand, whom I wanted to consult about the operations in the Shan States which were to be undertaken in the coming cold season. He arrived before I left Mandalay for Bhamo, and as he evidently needed rest, I asked him to remain at Government House until my return.

I found Bhamo a disappointing place. A very dirty, miserable kind of village, arranged in two streets parallel to the river. At the back lay a marsh or lagoon, which evidently was at one time a channel for the backwater of the river. Conservancy there was none, and the stench from the streets, the lagoon, and even the bank of the river was sickening. Considering that the place had been the headquarters of a district since our occupation, and a cantonment for British and Indian troops, it was not much to be proud of. But the soldiers and the civil officers had been well occupied with more pressing business.

The Chinese were the most prominent of the population. They were all, it was said, opium smokers, and seldom moved until near midday. They managed notwithstanding to make money, and to retire with fortunes after a few years. I anticipated a large increase of the trade with China, but doubted if the town could grow much on its present site.[20] As to the trade, it could not make much progress on account of the cost of transport between Bhamo and Tengyueh, the risk of attack by Kachins, and the exactions and oppressions of the Chinese Customs officials, who at one time had maintained a likin station within the British boundary not far from Bhamo. There was another route used by traders, which went by Mansi and Namkham, a Shan State on the ShwÈli. Since the Kachins in the country south of Bhamo have been subjugated, the Chinese caravans have preferred the Namkham route; and at present although the Kachins have ceased to raid, and much has been done of late to improve the road to Tengyueh, the trade has not returned to that channel.

A survey for a light railway to Tengyueh has been made, but a strange indifference exists to the benefits certain, as I think, to result from making the line. The construction of a railway between Northern Burma and Yunnan has always appeared to me essential to the full development of the province. The opportunity has been lost and France has anticipated us. It would be a difficult and expensive work no doubt, but whether more difficult than the French line may be doubted. Even now, after twenty years, it has not been surveyed beyond the Kunlon ferry, and the opinion of persons without engineering knowledge has been accepted as sufficient to condemn it. But we may still hope. Napoleon crossing the Alps might have scoffed at the notion of a railway to Italy.

There is a vast area of land in Upper Burma waiting for population to cultivate it, and if communications were made easy, the Chinese Shans and possibly Chinese and Panthays from Yunnan might be induced to settle in the northern districts. The Chinese and Burmans are akin, and the offspring of Chinese fathers and Burman mothers have the good qualities of both races, which cannot be said of other crosses.

I returned to Mandalay from Bhamo before the end of July, having learnt and arranged much, especially in consultation with Major Adamson, the Deputy Commissioner, regarding the contemplated occupation of Mogaung. The stations on the river were all inspected on the way down.

I found Mr. Hildebrand waiting for me, and discussed with him and with Sir George White the plans for an expedition to the Shan States.

The Durbar was held on the 5th of August, and I think was a useful function. It was held in the great Eastern Hall of the Palace, the place where the King of Burma used to give audience to his feudatories and his people. The ex-ministers and some of the Shan Sawbwas were present, and the great hall was crowded with notables and officials from Mandalay and other districts. It must have been to them a striking occasion, and to many of them, perhaps, not altogether pleasant. To such as had any patriotic feeling, and no doubt many of them had, the representative of a foreign Government standing in front of the empty throne must have been the abomination of desolation standing where it ought not.[21]

My duty, however, was not to show sympathy with sentiment of this kind, but to impress them with the permanence, the benevolence, and the power of the new Government. In an appendix I have given the text of my speech and some comments upon it taken from an article in the Times newspaper of the 13th of September, 1887. Two of the high Burman officials who had formerly been in the King's service, the Kinwun Mingyi, one of the Ministers of the State, and the Myowun, or City Governor of Mandalay, both of whom had given great assistance to the British Government, received decorations. The former was made a Companion of the Star of India and the latter of the Indian Empire. I was glad to get the following commendation from Lord Dufferin.

He wrote: "I congratulate you on your Durbar and upon the excellent speech you made on the occasion. It was full of go and good sense, and will convince everybody that you really mean business."

There were fresh rumours at this time (August, 1887) of hostile intentions on the part of the Chinese, of gatherings of soldiers and bandits on the frontier, of the presence of auxiliaries from Yunnan with San Ton Hon in Theinni. There was no foundation in fact for any of these rumours; Mr. Warry, the Chinese adviser, placed no faith in them, and I did not believe in them. But they were repeated in the newspapers, magnified in gossip, and disturbed the public mind.

The best way of silencing these rumours was to make our occupation of the northernmost district, Mogaung, effectual, and to establish a definite control in the Shan States. In concert with the Major-General, proposals for effecting both these objects had been prepared and were before the Government of India, and I knew that the Viceroy approved them.

In neither case was serious opposition expected. Detailed accounts of both movements will be found in separate chapters of this book. In the case of the Shan States, the character of the expedition was essentially peaceful and conciliatory. The escorts given to the two civil officers were strong enough to deter, or if necessary overcome, opposition and support the dignity of our representatives. But unless hostilities broke out, in which case the military commanders would necessarily become supreme, the control was vested in the senior civil officer, Mr. Hildebrand. It is unnecessary to say more here, except that with Sir George White's help everything was done to keep down the cost. Not a man more than was absolutely necessary was sent. The Shan plateau, at this time nowhere prosperous, was in some parts on the verge of famine; not from drought or other climatic cause, but simply from the cat-and-dog life the people had led for some years. No supplies could be obtained in the country. It was necessary to ration the troops for four or five months, and the cost of transport was heavy.

Every one felt, however, that cost what it might, the work we had undertaken must be completed. Nothing could have justified us in leaving the Shan country any longer in a state of anarchy; and I doubt if even the most narrow-minded Under Secretary in the Financial Department dared to raise objections to the needful expenditure. It may be permitted to say here that no money was better spent. The Shan plateau for lovely scenery, for good climate, and I believe for its natural wealth, is proving itself a most valuable possession. Lord Dufferin thoroughly approved of the action taken in these cases.

It was a relief to deal with these larger matters. They were less harassing than the constant stream of administrative details of every kind which leave a man at the head of a large province barely time to think of his most important problems. The demands from the Secretary of State for information, which came through the Government of India, wasted a great deal of time. Members of Parliament who cannot force themselves into notice in other ways, take up a subject like Burma, of which no one knows anything, and ask questions which the Secretary of State has to answer. Frequently there was little foundation for these questions, and when the call came to answer them, it took both time and labour to ascertain what they were all about. Correspondents of newspapers, not so much perhaps out of malice—although that is not quite unknown—as from the necessities of their profession are greedy for sensational news. They know that the English public prefer to think that their servants abroad are either fools or scoundrels. If everything is reported to be going well and the officers to be doing their duty, few will credit it, and none will be interested in it. But hint vaguely at dark intrigues or horrible atrocities, ears are cocked at once, and the newspaper boys sweep in the pence.

Few of the uninitiated would believe how much time has to be given by the head of an Indian province to the placing of his men. In a climate like Burma, and under the conditions obtaining in 1887, frequent and sudden sickness compels officers to take leave. The civil staff of the province was barely sufficient if no losses occurred. If a man fell out it was often difficult to supply his place, and if a good man went down, as they often did, it was sometimes impossible to find a good man to succeed him. Writing to Lord Dufferin at this time (September, 1887) of one of the worst districts, I said: "I have not been able to put a good man there yet, but I hope to have a man soon. It all depends on getting hold of the right man." In a settled province the personal factor is not so important; but in a newly annexed country it is everything. Even in the oldest province in India, if a fool is put in charge of a district and kept there long enough you will have trouble of some sort.

Much has been heard of late years of the evils of transfers, and even Viceroys have talked as if the carelessness or favouritism of provincial governors were responsible for the mischief. The real cause in my experience is the inadequacy of the staff of officers. If one man falls sick and has to leave his district, two or three transfers may become inevitable. The Government of India realize no doubt that the staff, of the smaller provinces especially, is inadequate. If they give a liberal allowance of Englishmen the expense is increased and promotion becomes too slow. If they cut down the staff, the head of the province has to tear his hair and worry through somehow.