Mr. Burgess having gone to act as Commissioner, I was recalled to the Secretariat in some haste, in my former capacity as Junior Secretary. It was in the midst of the excitement of a probable rupture with Upper Burma. Our relations with the Court of Mandalay had long ceased to be cordial. So long ago as 1879 our representative had been withdrawn, and such communications as were necessary with the Burmese Government had been conducted by letter. In the absence of the Resident matters gradually drifted from bad to worse. British subjects, travellers and traders from Lower Burma, were subjected to insult and violence by local officials, and representations to the central authority demanding redress were generally fruitless. In contravention of the express terms of the Treaty of 1867, monopolies were created to the detriment of trade both in Upper and Lower Burma. Owing to the weakness and corruption of the Burmese Government, society became thoroughly disorganized, so that turbulent tracts on the frontier became a standing menace to the peace of our districts. At the same time, the Burmese Government showed a marked and persistent anxiety to enter into alliances with foreign Powers, in such a manner and to such an extent as to give ground for apprehension that grave political trouble might result. While the Indian Government was unrepresented in Mandalay, representatives of France and Italy were welcomed, and two separate embassies were sent to Europe, one under the guise of a merely commercial mission, for the purpose of contracting new and if possible close alliances with European Powers. Neither of these missions visited England or showed any desire to win the friendship of representatives of the British Government at the Courts to which the Burmese envoys were accredited. Throughout the reign of King MindÔn, young scions of families of leading men about the Court were sent to England, France, and Italy to study the language and manners of European countries. In the reign of his successor this policy was continued, with the studied omission of England.[73]

Having no Resident, we had to find means of keeping ourselves informed of events in Mandalay. One of our correspondents was Mr. A. E. Rawlings, the Postmaster, who for a moderate subsidy wrote periodical news-letters to the Secretary. He sent much useful and interesting matter. There was also another correspondent whose reports were extraordinarily accurate and instructive, and from whose keen vision no secret transaction was hidden.

It has always seemed to me that the proximate cause of the annexation of Upper Burma was the patriotic and enlightened Minister known as the Kinwun Mingyi. Some years before, this gentleman had travelled in Europe as head of a commercial mission, and had been received with great distinction. His progress was a triumph; insignia of Continental orders, illuminated addresses of English manufacturing towns, were showered upon him as if he had been Minister of the Great Mogul. To us who realize the insignificance of the King of Burma as a potentate, these proceedings savour of the ridiculous. During this visit the Kinwun Mingyi obtained some superficial knowledge of European politics and of the relations between the Great Powers. Many years later, when there was no longer a British Resident at Mandalay, and when the path seemed clear of obstacles, the Mingyi conceived the ingenious plan of contracting political relations and making treaties with several States, such as France, Germany, and Italy. The subtle intention was to play off one against another, so that, while none would have predominant influence, all would be interested in opposing and thwarting the ambitious designs of Great Britain. There was some statesmanship in the project, but not quite enough; and with the best intentions the Mingyi compassed the downfall of the dynasty of which he was a devoted servant. By the autumn of 1885 negotiations with France had made good progress. A French Consul was appointed to Mandalay, and plans for the foundation of a French bank were initiated. A treaty was provisionally concluded, though never formally ratified. The ostensible cause of the rupture with the Burmese Court was the imposition of an enormous fine on the Bombay Burma Trading Corporation, a British company carrying on extensive operations in Upper Burma forests. Probably in any case the British Government would have intervened, on account of the treatment received by the Corporation. But the ultimate cause of intervention was the apprehension lest France or some other European Power should establish a preponderant influence in Upper Burma, and create a situation which would render our position in Lower Burma intolerable.

When I got back to Rangoon, the preliminary correspondence with India and Mandalay was starting. It was all desperately urgent and deadly secret, and the Chief Commissioner and his Secretary were more than fully occupied. The Burmese answer to our first representation was deliberately curt and discourteous. Under the orders of the Government of India an ultimatum was therefore sent to the King of Burma. He was required to suspend the execution of the decree against the Corporation, to receive at Mandalay an envoy from the Viceroy with a view to the settlement of the matter in issue, and for the future to permit the residence at the capital of an agent of the Indian Government, who should be received and treated with the respect due to the Government which he represented. It was further intimated that the Burmese Government would be required to regulate its external relations in accordance with advice of the Government of India, and to afford facilities for opening up British trade with China.[74]

The ultimatum was despatched on the 22nd of October, 1885. It was taken by Captain Cooper, of the Irrawaddy Flotilla Company, on the steamer Ashley Eden, which went specially to Mandalay for the purpose. An answer was required by the 10th of November. In default of receiving a reply Captain Cooper was instructed to leave Mandalay on a fixed date. The mission was of a hazardous nature. Captain Cooper discharged it with intrepidity and skill. He remained with his steamer fires banked, and he returned bearing the haughty and uncompromising answer of the Burmese Government. As he passed down the river he ran the gauntlet of the fire of forts on the bank. Such was the Burmese notion of the courtesy due to envoys. The answer was received in Rangoon on the 9th of November. Two days earlier the King of Burma issued a proclamation calling on his subjects to rally round him to resist the unjust demands of the British Government, and expressing his determination to efface these heretic foreigners and conquer and annex their country.[75]

When the ultimatum was considered by the Burmese Court and Government, there seems to have been a division of counsel. The two highest officers of State were two Mingyis, the virtuous and temperate Kinwun, the corrupt and blood-thirsty Taingda. The Queen, SÛpaya-lÂt, was certainly present when the situation was discussed. The Kinwun advised moderation and diplomacy; the Taingda was for blood and fury. The Queen’s voice was for resistance. She had the unexampled impertinence to tell the Kinwun Mingyi, a man of mature and reverend years, her father’s trusted Councillor, that when she had beaten the English she would dress him in a tamein[76] and send him to live among the women. The counsels of unreason prevailed. The proclamation was issued, and futile resistance was undertaken.

Meanwhile, in anticipation of an unfavourable reply to the ultimatum, preparations for the advance on Mandalay had been rapidly made. The speed with which the expedition was organized and set in motion was almost incredible. The first orders for the mobilization of troops were issued by Government of India on or about the 19th of October; the expeditionary force crossed the frontier on the 14th of November, 1885. The force was of all arms, including some Madras Cavalry and some mounted infantry. Except the detachment of the Rangoon Volunteer Rifles, which patriotically volunteered for active service, all the troops were sent from India. For the promptitude of the despatch from Rangoon, the chief credit is due to Mr. Bernard himself, who placed all the resources of his position and all his personal energy and experience at the disposal of the military authorities. Every day saw him on the river-bank supervising and urging on the preparations. Much praise is due also to the Irrawaddy Flotilla Company, which made every vessel of their fleet available and carried the whole expedition. Of course, this was not all pure patriotism on the part of the Company; but the service rendered by them was of inestimable value, and contributed largely to the brilliant success of the operations. The command of the force was entrusted to Major-General Harry Prendergast, V.C.,[77] a most gallant and distinguished officer, who had already served in Burma, and was thus specially qualified for the appointment. Already, in the pursuit of intelligence, he had even penetrated into Upper Burma in peaceful guise. In command of brigades were Brigadier-General G. S. White, V.C.,[78] Brigadier-General Norman, and Brigadier-General Forde; while the staff included Major W. P. Symons,[79] then at the beginning of a glorious career. The troops were specially enjoined to treat the people of the country with kindness and consideration. One precept directed that in addressing a Burman the soldier should say “Kinbya,” not “Hey, Johnny!” A book of Burmese phrases, laboriously compiled by a gentleman unacquainted with the language, was profusely distributed. It is pleasant to be able to record, with perfect honesty, that never did army of occupation behave with more restraint and moderation, or more readily win the esteem and respect of a subject people.

The Chief Civil and Political Officer with the expedition was Colonel E. B. Sladen[80] of the Burma Commission. Four young officers Mr. R. Phayre, C.S.,[81] Mr. A. S. Fleming, C.S., Captain G. S. Eyre, of the Commission, and Mr. G. G. Collins accompanied the force as civil officers. Mr. R. C. Stevenson, also of the police, one of the foremost Burmese scholars, was attached to General Prendergast as chief interpreter.

On the 14th November the frontier was crossed, on the 17th Minhla, on the 23rd Pagan, on the 25th Myingyan were successively occupied. Except at Minhla, where the fort which still stands on the river-bank was not taken without a brisk fight, scarcely any resistance was encountered. And as the flotilla moved up the river, even in Mandalay the determination to resist began to fail. Just before the expedition reached Ava the Kinwun Mingyi arrived, and after some negotiation arranged the unconditional surrender of the capital and of the Royal Family. On the 26th and 27th November the forts at Ava and Sagaing were given up, and the troops at Ava laid down their arms. On the 28th the flotilla moored off the town, and General Prendergast occupied Mandalay. The city and the palace were surrounded, while Colonel Sladen, with the cool courage which was his best distinction, entered the palace alone, and remained there for a day and a night, settling the details of the King’s surrender. Next day, in a little summer-house in the palace garden, King Thebaw gave himself up to the victorious General, and the dynasty of AlaungpayÁ ruled no more. After all, it was a mushroom growth, having held sway for little more than 130 years.[82] The King and his two Queens, with their mother and her eldest daughter, were driven through the streets of Mandalay in little bullock-drawn carriages, the only vehicles available. They were placed on board the steamer Thooreah, and conveyed to Rangoon. The flimsy little summer-house fell into decay, and no longer exists. The tablet which marks its site, and commemorates the most striking event in its history, will doubtless remain as long as the British flag flies over Mandalay.

The first report of the King’s surrender reached Rangoon in a non-official telegram. By luck or good management we were enabled to telegraph the tidings simultaneously to the Secretary of State, and to save his Lordship from the shock of receiving the first intimation of the fall of Mandalay from his morning paper. Of course, the telegraph line was interrupted. This message came from Tha-yet-my?o, brought thither by the King’s steamer.

As the junior officer in the Secretariat, I was told off to board the Thooreah on her arrival. I was thus the first officer in Rangoon to see the ex-King and his Queens. King Thebaw was in appearance a Burman of very ordinary type. He looked neither dissipated nor cruel; nor did he show any emotion or feeling of his melancholy position. His somewhat heavy features were unmistakably those of the House of AlaungpayÁ. Both he and his elder sister (who died not long ago) closely resembled the familiar picture of MindÔn Min. Queen SupayÁ-lat’s features were more finely marked than is usual with Burmese ladies. She bore no appearance of special depravity, but she certainly looked a little shrew. The legend of SupayÁ-lat is that she was a monster of cruelty and wickedness, and that she was mainly responsible for all acts of State during her husband’s reign. From all that I heard in Mandalay, where I had many sources of information, for the most part unfriendly to the ex-Queen, I believe that both her wickedness and her influence have been much exaggerated. She seems to have been of a jealous temper, and to have checked any inclination on the part of her husband to follow the footsteps of MindÔn Min. Doubtless it went hard with any maid who attracted the King’s attention. On one of the golden doors of the palace used to be shown bloodstains, marks of a little hand, signs of the tragic end of a Princess who had incurred the Queen’s wrath. (I am aware of the learned explanation of these marks, but the legend is far more interesting.) Beyond this there is no credible evidence of her cruelty, nor is it well established that she ruled the State. Clearly she wielded some influence; but apart from the story of her speech to the Kinwun Mingyi, the most arrogant action imputed to her was that she used to have her meals before the King. Of course, this was very unusual and unseemly for a Burmese woman of any class. It hardly shows that she was paramount in the direction of the kingdom. The royal exiles were transferred to the R.I.M.S. Clive, and, after remaining for a few days in Rangoon, were taken to Madras. They were finally transferred to Ratnagiri in the Bombay Presidency, where King Thebaw and SupayÁ-lat still live. The poor little second Queen, of whom nothing, good or bad, has ever been heard, died last year. An irresponsible journalist lately suggested that Ratnagiri was an unsuitable place of abode for these fallen dignitaries. It is one of the best places that could be chosen. They and their family have been quite healthy. As they cannot be allowed to return to Burma, they are likely to be as contented there as elsewhere. Two of the Ministers and a few retainers were with difficulty persuaded to accompany their fallen master. The Ministers speedily returned to Mandalay. So did most of the retainers after one little Chin maid had given some trouble by running up a tree and declining to come down, because SupayÁ-lat, whose temper misfortune may have sharpened, had smacked her.

The rapidity with which the conquest of the Burmese King was effected must always be a subject of astonishment. Many times in the previous wars Burmese soldiers had offered stout resistance, fighting fiercely behind stockades. That the martial spirit still survived was abundantly shown afterwards in the years of desultory fighting described in Sir Charles Crosthwaite’s classic history of the pacification of Burma. The truth is, the central Government was rotten at the core, corrupt and inefficient and singularly impecunious. The balance found in the Treasury at Mandalay was about £5,000, not a very large sum to finance a war. There was no organized Burmese army, with captains versed in the art of war, capable of meeting in the field disciplined troops under trained leaders. But the main cause of the downfall of the Burmese kingdom, with hardly a blow struck in its defence, was no doubt the speed with which preparations for the advance were made, and the skill, swiftness, and resolution with which General Prendergast directed the progress to Mandalay. If a little more time had been allowed to the Burmese, the ascent would have been more arduous, though not less effectual. The celerity with which the operations were carried out is probably paralleled in history only by the advance of the Balkan armies towards Constantinople.

While opposition to the main force was feeble and faint-hearted, at the outset of hostilities reprisals were taken on Englishmen employed in the forests or on the river. It was, indeed, only by the humanity or prudence of some local officials that any of these isolated Englishmen escaped. A Thandawzin[83] was sent to deal with Bombay-Burma men on the Chindwin. Four of them were barbarously murdered. The murderer was Thandawzin So BÔn, who disappeared immediately. I sought him diligently, but in vain, for nearly twenty-five years. If he still lives, this record of his name may yet bring to him the reward of his crime. Four other forest men were saved by the intervention of the Wun[84] of Mingin.

Upper Burma had long been the refuge of persons who had pressing reasons for leaving Lower Burma; in fact, as one departmental Report said, it was a “perfect Arcadia.” Not only thieves, robbers, dacoits, and murderers, but the bailiff who had lost at Komi the proceeds of Court sales, the Postmaster who was short in his collections, the clerk who had stolen witnesses’ subsistence money, all found an asylum across the border. Demands for extradition were made, but practically never with any effect. The Wun of Mingin was among many who felt it necessary to take measures for their security if, as seemed likely, Upper Burma came under British rule. Long years ago, this astute man had been Akunwun[85] of the rich district of Rangoon or Hanthawaddy. One morning, having packed on elephants the contents of the Treasury, some lakhs of rupees, he fled with his plunder across the frontier. There, with his wicked prize, he was a man of importance, obtained office, and in process of time was placed in charge of Mingin on the Chindwin River. Partly moved by humanity, for he was as kindly a man as ever scooped a Treasury, partly, I surmise, because he was shrewd enough to foresee the downfall of the Burmese Government, he protected the Bombay-Burma men who fell into his hands, saved them from ill-usage and death, and made them over to a small British force which early visited the Chindwin. The Wun’s humanity was suitably rewarded. His delinquency was condoned and he became a My?o-Ôk. Though he was believed always to be tainted with the corrupt habits of Upper Burma, he served us moderately well. The fact that he had saved the lives of our countrymen was never forgotten and would have covered many sins. Finally, he died in his bed, up to the day of his death in receipt of a pension from Government. I knew very well both him and his wife, who had accompanied him in his flight from Rangoon. Naturally, we did not in plain words discuss that incident. But reference to early days was sometimes made, and the old lady admitted that the Wun had been frivolous and light-hearted in his youth. When I knew him, he was grave and reverend. This is not the only instance in which persons guilty of past offences in Lower Burma purged their guilt by good service in troubled times and were received back into Government employ. I found it convenient to keep in mind their histories.

Another case of the cruel treatment of Europeans was the seizure of a Flotilla steamer at Moda, between Mandalay and Bhamo, and the imprisonment and ill-treatment of crew and officers. Daily was Captain Redman led out as if to execution. He, too, escaped by some friendly intervention, or the hesitation of his captors to proceed to the last extremity. He was, however, very badly used. The two local officers responsible for these barbarities were brought down to Mandalay, fined and imprisoned, and publicly whipped by the Chief Commissioner’s order.