Kitabı oku: «A Civil Servant in Burma», sayfa 12
From August, 1888, till the end of 1890, I acted as Chief Secretary, Mr. C. G. Bayne being Secretary, and in succession Mr. A. S. Fleming, Mr. F. C. Gates,209 and Mr. D. H. R. Twomey,210 Junior (or Under) Secretary. These were years of abnormal stress in the office, which was still undermanned. The appointment of Mr. Fryer to be Financial Commissioner afforded us some relief. But though a good deal of his work was done in direct communication with the Chief Commissioner, part of the revenue business necessarily was transacted by the Secretariat. These were my really strenuous years. The practice of dictation to shorthand writers was not yet in vogue; I have never acquired the habit. Day after day, Sundays included, I did my spell of work in office and then wrote on far into the night at home, kept awake by coffee and protected from mosquitoes by Burman cheroots. Six hours of sleep sufficed. Though I wrote rapidly, I was not a quick worker. I dare say other men would have done as much with less effort. Life in the Secretariat presented few incidents which seem worthy of record. The real work was being done in the districts, in the Shan States, in the Chin Hills.
These years witnessed the completion of the pacification and settlement of Upper Burma, and what may be called the resettlement of Lower Burma. The details of the work in Upper Burma have been described in Sir Charles Crosthwaite’s book.211 The organization of the military and civil police was perfected by the administrative ability of General Stedman, the Inspector-General, who was a tower of strength to the Government. Dacoit bands were dispersed, their leaders captured or killed, the rank and file in many cases allowed to surrender and return to their homes on suitable terms. Admirable, unobtrusive work was done by military, civil, and police officers, who by degrees bore down opposition and broke the forces of disorder. The most potent instrument in the final establishment of settled administration was the village law planned by Sir Charles Crosthwaite himself. This invaluable enactment created the village as the unit of administration, and placed the village headman in a position of authority and responsibility. He became the local judge and magistrate, with limited but sufficient power to enforce his orders. As far as possible the office was made hereditary, but the people were consulted in the appointment. Henceforth the post, though not one of great emolument, instead of being avoided, was eagerly sought.212 The village law did much more than elevate the headman. It enforced the joint responsibility of villagers for offences committed within their borders, for stolen property traced to the village tract. The Deputy Commissioner was legally empowered to require villages to be duly fenced. All able-bodied men were bound under penalties to turn out to resist any unlawful attack. Above all, subject to carefully devised safeguards, power was given to the local authorities to order the temporary removal of persons found to be in sympathy with outlaws. No measure was more efficacious than this to secure the destruction of dacoit gangs by depriving them of support and sustenance. These are among the most important provisions of the village law which has done more than gun and sword to assure permanent peace. The revenue system was formalized as far as our limited knowledge allowed on the lines of Burmese law and custom. Meanwhile, the border lands were not neglected. Of the Shan States some mention will be made presently. The Chins might have lived unmolested in their hills, but they could not give up their rooted habit of raiding villages in the plains. The plundering of peaceful hamlets, the carrying off of living captives and the heads of the slain, provoked inevitable reprisals. Happily the policy of slaying, burning, and scuttling was not adopted. After laborious operations, the Chins were thoroughly subjugated and disarmed. Military police posts were established in their midst. They are now peaceful and amenable to law. The names honourably associated with the arduous task of settling these rugged hills are those of Major F. D. Raikes, C.I.E., General Sir W. Penn Symons, Mr. B. S. Carey, C.I.E., Mr. D. Ross, Mr. D. J. C. Macnabb,213 Captain F. M. Rundall,214 Mr. E. O. Fowler, and Mr. H. N. Tuck. Here, too, Captain Le Quesne215 won the Victoria Cross by gallantly tending a wounded officer under fire from a stockade. The Kachin Hills and the State of Wuntho alone remained for settlement in later years.
No detailed story of the restoration of order in Lower Burma has yet been given to the world; nor does it lie within the scheme of these personal reminiscences to supply the omission. The outbreak of disturbance at the end of 1885 has already been mentioned. For years crime continued to be rampant. A few figures may be given. In 1886 the number of dacoities was 2,183; in 1887, 1,387; in 1888, 695; in 1889, 332; in 1890, 181. Serious risings there were: one in Tavoy in 1888, quelled by Colonel Adamson and Mr. Twomey; one in Sandaway, sternly repressed by Mr. Bernard Houghton, who at the outset nearly fell a victim to the insurgents. But in the period now under reference it was not so much a question of dealing, as in Upper Burma, with organized resistance on a large scale as of suppressing countless small, isolated gangs. The strict enforcement of the Village Act, framed on the lines indicated above, and vigorous disarmament carried out in the face of ignorant and factious criticism, were among the most efficient means of restoring peace. The plan of placing a defined area in charge of a specially selected officer invested with large powers for the suppression of crime was tried with excellent effect. Pyuntazá, in Shwegyin, was reduced to order by Mr. Todd-Naylor, to whom the Chief Commissioner gave a free hand with abundant support. Boldest, most strenuous, most untiring of men, traversing vast distances with incredible speed on the scantiest fare, facing every danger and enduring every hardship, there, and soon afterwards in Tharrawaddy, Mr. Todd-Naylor earned great and well-merited renown. For the first, and so far the only, time in its history, Tharrawaddy was at rest. In every district solid work was done, and by degrees normal conditions were established.
An event which I recall with interest was the visit to Rangoon of the celebrated traveller, Mr. Colborne Baber, of the China Consular Service, deputed to Burma in connection with the proposed demarcation of the Chinese boundary. Baber was one of the elect of travellers. Not only did he make hazardous and scientifically important journeys, but he also had the gift of letters, so that his records have a place in literature. A man of genius, a born explorer, of various and versatile accomplishments, he was, I believe, a sinologist of distinction, and certainly a scholar of no mean attainment. Before proceeding to Bhamo to study the boundary question on the spot, he was our guest for some days in Rangoon. These are days of happy memory, made bright by his luminous and inspiring talk, his distinguished and attractive personality. He seemed to live principally on cigarettes, and cared too little for a body not physically strong. Early in 1890 he died at Bhamo, mainly from weakness caused by his own neglect of material comfort. His premature death was a loss to the State, and a lasting grief to his friends.
More than once in these two years I visited Mandalay in attendance on the Chief Commissioner, sometimes occupying my old quarters in the Palace, sometimes enjoying the hospitality of Government House. One trivial incident illustrates the state of the country even close to the capital of Upper Burma. Rather late one night a friend216 called me out of my quarters to go to see a fire. Having seen as many fires as would satisfy the most morbid craving, I cannot think why this fire attracted me. However, we went. As usual, the scene was much farther off than we thought. Passing out of the city gate, we walked for some miles across the fields till we came at last to a village where houses were still blazing. It had been plundered and burnt by Bo To, the most prominent leader then afoot in the district. The police were there before us, and the dacoits had disappeared. As we were alone, armed only with walking-sticks, perhaps it was lucky that we did not arrive an hour or two sooner.
The last day of February, 1889, saw the formal opening of the railway from Toungoo to Mandalay. The occasion was celebrated with some pomp, Sir Charles Eliott,217 K.C.S.I., Public Works Member, representing the Government of India. Later in the year, during the absence of Sir Charles Crosthwaite on privilege leave for three months, Mr. A. P. MacDonnell,218 Home Secretary to the Government of India, acted as Chief Commissioner. Mr. MacDonnell was, of course, innocent of any knowledge of the country or the people. I doubt whether this brief interlude of administering a strange Province could have been a satisfactory experience to him. I am under the impression that the Chief Secretary’s work was materially increased.
At the end of 1889 Burma was honoured by the visit of His Royal Highness Prince Albert Victor of Wales (the late Duke of Clarence), who spent some days in Rangoon and Mandalay. The Royal visit was highly appreciated by the Burmese, as well as by the European community, and was celebrated with much demonstration of genuine spontaneous loyalty. Chief of His Royal Highness’s staff was the late Sir Edward Bradford, whose high qualities it were superfluous to praise.
CHAPTER XIII
A VISIT TO THE SHAN STATES
The Shan States occupy the whole of the eastern side of Upper Burma, and border on French Indo-China, China, and Siam. It is sometimes erroneously supposed that they are independent or semi-independent States, on the same footing as native States in India. From Theinni in the north to Mobye in the south, from the Myelat in the west to Kyaingtôn in the far east, these States were an integral part of the Burmese kingdom, over which the Burmese assertion of sovereignty was never abandoned or successfully resisted. Burmese Residents and garrisons were maintained. Though there were rebellions, revolts, and massacres, though in King Thebaw’s time the bonds of authority were loosened, independence was never established. Each State was administered by its own chief, Sawbwa, Myosa, or Ngwekunhmu, appointed or recognized by the Burmese Government, and very practically subject to the King and his Council. Consequently, when we succeeded to the sovereignty of Burma, the Shan States became as much an integral part of British India as any district of Upper Burma. To speak of the annexation of a Shan State is incorrect. Those States, such as Wuntho and Kale, which have ceased to be governed by their own chiefs, have been, not annexed, but taken under direct administration. The distinction between the Shan States and the rest of Burma is one not of political status, but of administrative method. The Legislative Councils of India and Burma make laws for the Shan States as for other parts of the Province. This power was exercised as long ago as 1886 in the first Statute relating to Upper Burma. The principle has been consistently maintained. The States which are really semi-independent, subject to suzerainty, are those of Karenni. The historical explanation is that before we took Upper Burma we strenuously maintained that Karenni was not part of the King’s dominions. When we succeeded to the King’s rights, we could not decently assert the contrary. But though there is a theoretical distinction, in practice Karenni is as much under control as the Shan States.
In less than a year from the proclamation which incorporated Upper Burma in the Empire, surely as speedily as could be expected, an expedition was despatched to assert our authority in the Shan country. Colonel Stedman219 was in command, with Mr. A. H. Hildebrand220 and Mr. J. G. Scott221 as civil officers. A full account of the operations of the expedition has been given by Sir Charles Crosthwaite.222 I need not attempt to tell again the tale of Mr. Hildebrand’s conspicuous success: how he traversed the States, receiving the submission of the Chiefs and confirming them in their offices; how by tact and firmness, almost without striking a blow, he imposed peace on this distracted country; how he became the friend and monitor, as well as the strict supervisor, of every Chief. Nor must I yield to the temptation to recount once more the story of Mr. Scott’s gallant feat of arms in the capture of Twet Nga Lu, or of his later even more splendid display of the courage which dares the impossible when, with a handful of Gurkhas, he brought to his knees in his own capital the chief of Kyaingtôn, the largest and most secluded of the States. Are not these things written in the book so often quoted in these pages? It is a far cry to the Shan country and across the Salween, or these tales would be as familiar to Britons as any tale of chivalry.
Mr. Hildebrand became the first Superintendent of the Shan States. A little later they were divided into two groups, Northern and Southern, under two mutually independent Superintendents working in direct communication with Government. The Shan States extend over an area estimated at about 60,000 square miles. Here, as elsewhere in Burma, our aim has been to administer as far as possible in accordance with pre-existing custom. Each State is ruled by its own Chief, who has the power of life and death, appoints his own officials, and manages his own finances and domestic affairs. The Chiefs administer their own customary law, subject to the provisions of a very simple code, probably the shortest since the Decalogue, which lays down a few general principles and prohibitions. Issued in 1890, it still remains unaltered. The Chief is appointed by Government, and receives a sanad, or order of appointment, defining his functions and limitations. He is under the control of the Superintendent, and, to a less degree, of the Assistant Superintendents in charge of subdivisions, into which the States are distributed. These officers have by law extensive powers of intervention and revision, but as far as possible they abstain from active interference in the economy of the State. So, too, Government ordinarily avoids exertion of direct authority, but, if occasion requires, does not hesitate to deprive a chief of part of his powers, to change the order of succession, to amalgamate adjacent territories, to alter boundaries, even, as an extreme measure, to take a State under direct administration. All receipts from forests and minerals belong to the general revenues of the Province, rights over forests and mines being reserved by Government. Subject to this reservation, Government levies no taxes on the people. Each State pays a fixed sum annually as tribute, the assessment being revised every ten years. The demand is moderate, and at the decennial revision pleas for reduction are indulgently considered. It need hardly be said that the chiefs are required to keep the peace among themselves. They are responsible for the good order of their territories, and maintain their own local police in picturesque uniforms. There is also a small body of regular police under the civil officers. The garrison consisted at first of troops, then of military police, then partly of troops and military police, now again of military police alone. Each group, the Southern and the Northern, has its own battalion. Such, briefly and in outline, is the way in which the Shan States were governed five-and-twenty years ago; such is the way in which they are governed now. Probably no dependency of so great an extent is administered so inexpensively or with so little display of force. As a study in administration the experiment is full of interest, and has been remarkably successful. In five-and-twenty years there have naturally been changes and improvements. At first the Chiefs lived for themselves, caring only for their own ease and comfort, while, as was graphically said, “the bloodsuckers around them were making hay.” Now they are becoming more enlightened, and beginning to realize their responsibilities. They are learned in the mysteries of budgets and taxation rolls. Some take a zealous interest in road-making, in digging canals, in promoting the growth of new staples, in sanitation and medical relief. Many of the Chiefs are courteous and intelligent gentlemen, who live on terms of easy friendship with British officers. Several have visited India, more are familiar with Rangoon and Mandalay. One Chief, formerly very shy and reserved, now gallops on our polo-grounds. His ambition was to visit Rangoon periodically for the purpose of gazing on the ball-room at Government House, which reminded him of Heaven. When all is said, it must be remembered that the chiefs are merely officers of Government of no very high position, like other officers, holding their appointments during good behaviour.
The Shans,223 remnants of the race which once dominated a vast empire in Eastern Asia, including the whole of Northern Burma to the confines of Tibet, are now somewhat backward in civilization. A clannish folk, with the cohesion lacking among Burmans. If you get hold of the chief you secure his people also. This no doubt facilitated the task of settlement. Of fierce appearance, to us they seem unwarlike. Once at least a conflict was stopped by a British officer adopting the simple expedient of pitching his camp midway between two hostile armies. But before our coming internecine feuds raged savage and devastating. Like medieval barons, Chief warred against Chief, laying waste the country. Populous cities reduced to ruinous heaps gave place to miserable hamlets. Wide stretches of fertile land, thrown out of cultivation, became deserts of jungle and tall grass where the tiger made his lair and the elephant ranged at will. Under the firm and just rule which we have substituted for the intermittent ferocity of Burmese dominion, the Shan plateau is reviving, and once more promises to be an orchard and a harvest-field. Scantiness of population and distance from markets alone retard the cultivation of wheat, vegetables, and fruit. Now a railway to the Southern States is being made. If it is not stopped in mid-air, and if no parsimonious schemes hinder through communication, an era of prosperity for the Shan country is at hand.
Early in 1890, I accompanied Sir Charles Crosthwaite on the first visit paid by a Chief Commissioner to the Southern Shan States. We rode from the railway at Meiktila road (Thazi), past Hlaingdet, up and along the customary mule-track to Kalaw, on the border of the Myelat224 plain. The cart-road was yet unmade. There was not a cart of any kind in the Shan country. Kalaw lies in the midst of pine-forests, a perfectly lovely spot, believed by many to be the future hill-capital of Burma. It will be an important station on the new railway. Personally, I doubt whether it will displace Maymy̆o, though it may well be to Maymy̆o what Mussoorie is to Simla. From Kalaw we rode through the Myelat, fine open country, but intersected by many ravines, to Nyaungywe, on the edge of the Inle Lake. The chiefs of the Myelat States flocked to meet the head of the Province, and with bands of wild retainers, with much clashing of cymbals and beating of gongs, escorted him on his march. Crossing the lake we came to Fort Stedman, then the civil and military headquarters. Here the Chief Commissioner halted for some days, interviewing local officers and many Shan notables, and holding a Durbar, at which he addressed the assembled Chiefs. These State visits to Fort Stedman and Taung-gyi, which afterwards became the Superintendent’s headquarters, were full of interest, certainly to the visitors, probably also to the local inhabitants. I have assisted at three such visits. From distant hills, from far across the Salween, come multitudes of strange people eager to do honour to the representative of their Sovereign. Weird dances by outlandish folk, grotesque caperings some, others slow melancholy measures, expressed the popular rejoicing. The lake was alive with boats competing in exciting races. Men and women took part in these contests. Here you might see the Sawbwa distribute prizes to victors and vanquished, these races being of the nature of a caucus-race, and smearing with lime the foreheads of the losers. You shall also see the lake-dwellers standing and rowing with legs instead of arms, a difficult and, as one may think, somewhat useless feat. Many young and ambitious officers have sought to accomplish it, but in vain. The lake-men row in this way with perfect ease and skill, but not, I think, faster than a boat paddled in the ordinary style.
Fort Stedman is well situated in the State of Nyaungywe, one of the largest and most prosperous of the Southern States. At the time of the annexation, the Sawbwa was Saw Maung, a man of culture and education, trained at the Court of Mandalay in all the learning of the Burmans. Soon after, his cousin Chit Su rebelled against him. In the first fight Saw Maung was severely wounded, being shot through both thighs. Very confidingly, he placed his troops and arms at the disposal of his brother, Saw Ôn, who offered to suppress the revolt. Having done this effectually, occupied the capital, and tasted the sweets of power, Saw Ôn declined to make way for the rightful Chief. Forced to retire, Saw Maung with a small following established himself on the borders of the Myelat. Thence, anxious to prevent more fighting, Government summoned him to Mandalay and directed him to stay there in receipt of an allowance. In the Shan States, as elsewhere, our policy was to accept existing facts. If the Chief in actual possession was willing to submit, he was confirmed in his office. When Mr. Hildebrand came to Nyaungywe, he was warmly welcomed by Saw Ôn, whom he rescued from a position of much peril. Saw Ôn, therefore, was recognized as Sawbwa and held charge till his death some years later. He was the chief whom Sir Charles Crosthwaite found in Nyaungywe, a boisterous uncivilized person, with some sense of humour, whose loud laugh concealed a mind by no means vacant of ability and cunning. At his death, Saw Maung225 was restored to his State. He proved an excellent ruler, probably the most enlightened and progressive of the Shan chiefs, full of projects for the good of his people, and exceedingly popular with all classes. Though in the early days after his return the lake-men were ready to rebel against him, not many years later, when Their Royal Highnesses the Prince and Princess of Wales visited Mandalay, Saw Maung sat in the boat of the leg-paddlers competing in a race on the moat.
From Fort Stedman we returned by the way we came, the Chief Commissioner for my sake considerately riding the last three marches in one day. According to the original programme, if we had missed the train I should have missed also the steamer which was to take me home on my first leave. I caught the steamer and enjoyed the leave, which lasted a few days over three months. I cannot say that I enjoyed the return journey from Calcutta in the middle of the monsoon, seeing no sun nor star, in a boat on which cockroaches of gigantic stature vied with myriads of red ants in making life hideous.
I remained in Rangoon as Chief Secretary till the end of the year, when the Secretariat was reorganized and strengthened. Mr. Symes came back as Chief Secretary. I was appointed to be a Divisional Commissioner, but was seconded for duty as a Secretary till I went on furlough early in 1891. Mr. Mackenzie226 became Chief Commissioner, Sir Charles Crosthwaite going to Council. The work of pacification and organization was completed. Conscious of a great trust worthily discharged, the most eminent of Burma’s rulers moved on to fresh fields of action, less thrilling but not less honourable.
