Chapter XX.). The Sawbwa of Möngmit and his ministers, as well as the

claimant, Hkam Leng, had been summoned to attend me. The latter did not appear. He was one of the few irreconcilables Upper Burma produced. The investigation of the case satisfied me that he had no title to Möngmit, and I ordered him to be informed that his claim to that State was inadmissible, but that he would be recognised as chief of Mohlaing if he appeared and submitted.

After a few days at Mogok I returned to the river, marching down by the Thabeikkyin road. We were obliged to go slowly, as it was thought necessary to take an escort of twenty-five Gurkhas. One Paw Kwe, the headman of a village on the road, the influential brigand in these parts and one of the most evil-looking rascals I ever met, accompanied the Deputy Commissioner, Mr. Carter,[14] and was in a measure responsible that no mischief should befall us. In the hope of keeping him quiet I gave him a subsidy for carrying the mails. But he preferred unemployment and took again to the jungle after a time, and, I believe, became an irreconcilable.

The leisurely march down gave time to take up some matters of importance that were waiting for me.

In the forefront of pressing questions was the provision of a sufficient fleet of steam-launches. The delta of the Irrawaddy, where the population is most dense and most wealthy, is a country of rivers and creeks, where most of the transport is by boats. In the rice-harvest season the waterways are much used by the Burman craft carrying rice to the mills at Rangoon or Bassein, or making their way homeward with the money for which it has been sold.

The waterways needed to be patrolled. The disorders following the annexation extended to the creeks and rivers, and river pirates had become more daring and the necessity of a well-formed service of river police more urgent. Lower Burma was not well provided in this matter; and being unable to obtain funds, the administration was driven to apply local funds intended for roads to the purchase of launches.

In the Upper Province the want of suitable boats was even greater. There were some six hundred miles of waterway to be served. The rivers were the main lines of communication, and on the banks were placed in most cases the headquarters of districts, the military stations and outposts, and most of the larger villages and busier markets. At first, until I had time to revise administrative boundaries, several districts included land on both banks. Insurgents and dacoits had no difficulty in obtaining boats for the purposes of attacking river craft or waterside villages, or of escaping from pursuit. Once or twice we were compelled to put an embargo on the boats to hinder the enemy from getting across, but it was impossible to interfere thus with the river life of the province, except under great necessity and for a very short time.

To meet the demands of the soldiers, the police, and the district officers, and, before the telegraph service was complete, to keep up communication between stations and outposts, many boats were required. It was also necessary to have the means of moving small bodies of troops up and down or across the river without delay as the need might arise.

I had little difficulty in showing the need for a better fleet. But the Government of India were startled at my demands. The Director of Indian Marine, Captain John Hext, R.N. (now Rear-Admiral Sir John Hext, K.C.I.E.), was sent down to persuade me to reduce the size and cost of my navy. He was successful, and might perhaps succeed in persuading the Emperor of Germany to limit his naval armaments. He had designed an excellent type of river boat, a very light-draught paddle-wheeler, with simple machinery and fair speed, with accommodation for half a company of rifles and a couple of officers. They were built under his instructions in the Government dockyard at Kidderpore. Being his own creation, he named them the X type. In Burma they were called after every type of robber known to the country. It was agreed that I was to have nine of these boats and four smaller craft. I had asked for twenty-three boats, and looking back, I am surprised at my moderation. At the present time, after twenty years of peace and freedom from organized crime, I believe the Burma Government has a fleet four times as large as that with which I had to be content. But then I was, as it were, a pioneer.

I was back in Mandalay on the 10th of April. There were some gleams of light between the clouds. Baw or Maw, a small Shan State on the Kyauksè border, had been brought to reason by General East without fighting: the Kalè Sawbwa on the Chindwin had completed the payment of his tribute: Hla U, the most noted leader in the Sagaing district, had been killed by his own men, who were sick of the life.

On the other side of the account, Sinbyugyun, a post north of Salin in the Minbu district, held by a military garrison of fifty men, had been attacked twice and partially burnt. The news from the Northern Shan States was somewhat disquieting. A desultory warfare was going on in Hsenwi between the hereditary chief of the State, who had allied himself with the pretender, Saw Yan Naing, and San Ton Hon, the usurper in possession of Northern Hsenwi, supported by the Sawbwa of Hsipaw. It was reported that San Ton Hon was being driven back, and it was feared that the Hsipaw chief, who was our only assured friend in the Shan States, might suffer a repulse. It seemed at one time that it might become necessary to send an officer to Hsipaw with a small force. I was unwilling to take this step. I wished to leave the Northern Shan States alone until the next open season, and then to deal with the settlement of the States as a whole. The rains, moreover, were now near at hand, and Sir George White disliked moving troops into the hills if it could be avoided. I held a party of military police ready, and had obtained the Viceroy's consent to act, if it should be necessary. Meanwhile arms and ammunition were sent up to Hsipaw, and the Sawbwa, who was not more incapable or half-hearted than his opponents, contrived to hold his own until the next open season.

The military police were arriving now, and were being distributed and sent to their various destinations.

I could do little more by remaining in Mandalay. The most urgent matters in connection with the police were the definition of their duties and of their relations with the civil officers, their housing, rationing, and medical treatment. Until, as I stated before, these matters had been discussed and settled with the new Inspector-General of Police, little progress could be made in relieving the soldiers from occupying the small posts.

General Stedman was expected to arrive in Rangoon about the middle of May, and it was convenient that he should meet me there.

Another matter which called me to Rangoon was the condition of Lower Burma. Shortly before I took charge the Government of India had called the Chief Commissioner's attention to the state of the province, "the constant occurrence of petty dacoities (gang robberies), the apparent want of concerted and energetic action in dealing with them which," they wrote, "have attracted the serious notice of the Governor-General in Council. His Excellency trusts that the subject may receive your immediate and active intervention."

The condition of the province was bad from a police point of view. The people had enjoyed excellent harvests and good prices. Yet there was a constant recurrence of crime, and the police quite failed to cope with it. The excitement of the last year or two had been too much for the younger Burmans. They could not settle down again, and the spirit of loot and adventure rather than any real patriotism led to numerous gang robberies, and sometimes to foolish outbreaks, of which men from Upper Burma were sometimes the instigators.

Even within a short distance of Rangoon an Upper Burman, related, it was said, to the Minbu leader, Ôktama, raised the Golden Umbrella and called for followers. Some hundreds obeyed the call, but at the first sight of the police they began to disperse. A party of Karens, led by a British police officer, came up with some of them, killed and wounded several, captured others, and made an end of the rising.

The Karens in Lower Burma were loyal and generally staunch, especially the Christian Karens. The American Baptist missionaries have done an inestimable service to the Karen race. They understand thoroughly how to educate--in the true sense of the word--a tribe that has been despised and trodden down for some generations. The missionary has made himself not only the pastor but also the chief of his people, and in those troubled times he organized them under their catechists, taught them discipline and obedience, and made them useful and orderly members of society, industrious, self-respecting, and independent. The Government of Burma owes a debt to the American Baptist Mission which should not be forgotten.

On receipt of this letter from the Government of India, reports from Commissioners and from the head of the police had been called for. Their answers were now before me. The Inspector-General of Police in Lower Burma was the late Mr. Jameson, an officer of ability and long experience. He frankly admitted that the police administration had failed in suppressing organized brigandage. "So far," he wrote, "from the crime of dacoity having been eradicated by British administration, each year more dacoities are committed than in the one preceding." He attributed this failure to defects in the judicial courts, especially the Court of Revision and Appeal, which resulted in making punishment very uncertain and sentences capricious; to the absence of any law establishing a village organization and responsibility; and to the number of arms in the hands of the peasantry, who received them for their self-defence against dacoits, but gave them or lost them to the robbers. The result was, Mr. Jameson asserted, that after thirty-five years of British rule the country "was in a more disturbed state than after the second war."

There is no doubt that the judicial administration in Lower Burma was defective. The Judicial Commissioner who presided over the Chief Appellate and Revising Court for the interior of the province was selected by the Government of India from the members of the Indian Civil Service of one of the Indian provinces, and seldom stayed long in Burma. It is no libel on the distinguished men who have held this position to say that as a rule they had no knowledge of the language or customs of the people or of the conditions of Burma. They came from some quiet province of India, and were unable at first to appreciate those conditions. One of them might think the sentences awarded by the magistrates too severe; his successor might pronounce them to be too lenient.

There was a tendency to forget that an act--for example, shooting a thief or burglar at sight--which in a quiet and settled country may be a crime, may be excusable in a state of society where plunder and murder by armed robbers are everyday occurrences.

Much mischief may be and was done by well-intentioned but inept judicial action; neither the police nor the people knew how far they might go in defending themselves or in effecting the capture of criminals, and circulars were issued explaining the law which would have puzzled the Chief Justice. A Burman peasant before he fired his gun had to consider whether all the conditions justified him; and a frontier guard had to pause with his finger on the trigger while he recalled the words of the last circular on the use of firearms. The result was that the police and the people were nervous and demoralized. It was better to let the dacoit pass or to run away than to run the risk of a trial for murder.

This may seem exaggeration. On one occasion when the prisoners in a central gaol mutinied, the armed guard stood idle, until at last, when the convicts were breaking out, one of the guards took his courage in both hands and fired. The riot was checked. I wished to reward the man, but the superintendent of the gaol reported that he could not discover who had fired the shot. The warders said they did not doubt the Chief Commissioner's power to reward them, but they knew the Judicial Commissioner would hang the man who fired the gun.

The freedom with which licences to possess firearms had been granted in Lower Burma was no doubt responsible for the facility with which the bad characters could arm themselves. Every day's experience proved that to arm the villagers was to arm the dacoits. Burmans are incredibly careless. Even the Burman constables, who were to some extent trained and disciplined, constantly allowed their guns to be taken. A half-hearted measure had been in force in Lower Burma, which required that a village must have at least five guns, as it was thought that with that number they could defend themselves. Like most half-measures, it was of no use.

The absence of a village organization and of the means of enforcing village responsibility was no doubt a very great obstacle in the way of the police, even if the police had been good. But when everything had been said it came to this, that the police were bad and police administration in a hopeless muddle.

The Burmans have, from the first day that British officers have tried to discipline them, shown a great want of responsibility and incurable slackness and little sense of duty. They cannot be trusted to keep watch and ward, to guard or escort prisoners or treasure, or even to remain on duty if they are posted as sentries. The discipline of Frederick the Great might have improved them. But he would have shot most of his men before he had made trustworthy soldiers of the few that remained.

Hence it came to pass that Indians were enlisted to perform the duties which the Burmans seemed unable to fulfil. A few Indians were posted to every station for these purposes, and the Burmans were employed mainly on detection and investigation and reporting. This system led to still further deterioration of the Burman constable, who ceased to rely on his own courage or resources.

The Indians, again, were recruited locally. The police officers who recruited them had no experience of the Indian races and did not know one caste from another. The most unfit men were taken. They were not much looked after, and their officers did not know the Indian languages or understand their customs.

When the risings took place in Shwègyin and elsewhere after the annexation, the Burma police showed themselves to be absolutely untrustworthy. More Indians were enrolled and the mischief increased. The Burman knew he had behaved badly and was not trusted, and became more untrustworthy, while the Indians were not under proper discipline, scattered about as they were in small parties, and were in any case quite useless for detective or ordinary police purposes. The only exception to this condemnation of the indigenous police that could be made was, I think, the armed frontier guard in the Thayetmyo district, who were stationed and housed with their families on the frontier of British Burma.

It was clear that the working of the police force in Lower Burma required thorough investigation, and that its constitution would have to be recast. As necessary subsidiary measures, the country would have to be thoroughly disarmed, and above all a village organization must be created and the joint responsibility of the village for certain crimes enforced.

A committee was appointed to consider the best method of reforming the civil police force of Lower Burma. I took in hand the question of thoroughly disarming the whole province, and a bill dealing with Lower Burma villages on the lines of the Upper Burma village regulation was framed.

These matters would take some time. The Indian police, however, could be improved at once. It was decided to remove all Indians from the civil police, and to enroll them in a regiment under a military commandant, similar to one of the Upper Burma military police battalions in formation and discipline. Their headquarters were to be at Rangoon, and the men needed for other districts were to be sent from Rangoon and treated as detachments of the regiment. They were to be enrolled for three years under a Military Police Act, which was passed in 1887. Pending the report of the Committee and the measures that might be taken on their advice, it was necessary to act at once in the most disordered parts of the province. Especially in portions of the Shwègyin district in Tharawaddy, and in the northern townships of Thayetmyo the dacoit gangs were strong and active. The ordinary district staff seemed helpless and unable to make head against the brigands, to whose exactions the peasants had become accustomed. They found it easier to make terms with the criminals than to help a government that was unable to protect them.

I adopted the plan of selecting a young officer known for his activity and character, and placing him in charge of the disturbed tract, giving him a sufficient police force and magisterial powers, and making him independent of the Deputy Commissioner of the district, who continued to conduct the ordinary administration. This special officer had no other duty than to hunt down and punish the gangs of outlaws. He was to be always out and always on their tracks, using every means in his power to make friends with the villagers and induce them to give him information and help against the common enemy.

This policy succeeded, and the disturbed districts were brought into line. The late Mr. Henry Todd Naylor,[15] of the Indian Civil Service, distinguished himself especially in this work, and won a well-merited decoration from the Viceroy.

I had made up my mind to dispense with the services of the Special Commissioner for Lower Burma as soon as possible. The appointment was undoubtedly necessary at first, when communications were bad, but as the province settled down the need was less and the saving of labour to me very little. The responsibility remained with me. I was bound to know everything that went on, and in such matters as the condition of the province the Government of India expected me to intervene personally.

The work and exposure since the annexation were beginning to tell on the members of the Commission, especially on those who had sustained the heaviest burdens of responsibility and had been most exposed to the climate, and I was hard pressed for men to fill the places of those who wanted leave.[16] An accident happening to the Commissioner of Tennasserim, I decided to send Mr. Hodgkinson there and to take the Lower Burma work into my own hands.

An increase to the Secretariat had been sanctioned in April, 1887. This enabled me to save a man by appointing Mr. Smeaton (the late Donald Mackenzie Smeaton,[17] C.S.I., M.P.), to the newly created post of Chief Secretary. He had served for some years in Burma, with distinction, under Sir Charles Aitchison and Sir Charles Bernard.

In a short time the Secretariats were united in Rangoon and the work distributed into the ordinary departments of Indian administration without reference to territorial division.

On the arrival of General Stedman in the middle of May (1887), the Upper Burma military police questions were brought under discussion. The men, as I have said before, were coming in fast. The sanctioned strength at this time was fifteen thousand five hundred men. It was necessary to determine the constitution of the force, its relation to the Deputy Commissioners of districts, and the methods by which it was to be rationed and kept supplied with necessaries.

These matters had been thought out before General Stedman's arrival. They were now discussed with him in detail, and the general lines to be followed were laid down. Briefly, the following constitution was adopted:--

The keynote of Indian administration was, and I believe still is, that the District Magistrate or Deputy Commissioner, or by whatever name he may be called, is the executive representative of the Government, and is responsible for all matters in his district subject to the control of the Commissioner of the division. He is especially responsible for the peace of his district, and therefore the allocation of the police force rests primarily with him. It was laid down for the guidance of Deputy Commissioners that the most important and central posts should be occupied by fairly strong bodies of military police, to which should be attached a few Burman constables, some of whom were to be mounted, who were to collect information, receive reports, and investigate cases. Between the military police posts, and helping to link them up, were to be civil police stations manned by Burmans exclusively, who were to be locally recruited. A constant and systematic patrol was to be maintained between the military police posts. The posts were to be fortified and capable of defence by the garrison remaining after the despatch of a patrol. It was laid down as a fixed law that the reserve at headquarters must be sufficient to provide a reasonably strong movable column ready to reinforce any part of the district that might need it.

The police force was divided into battalions, one to each district, of a strength varying with the size and wants of the district. To each battalion was appointed a commandant, to all except a few very small battalions a second-in-command, and to some more than one. These officers were all selected from the Indian Army, and, with very rare exceptions, were capable men. The interior economy, the training, and the discipline of the men were left to the commandants under the Inspector-General's orders. With these matters the civil officials could not in any way interfere.

It was found necessary from the first to restrain firmly the tendency of the local officials to fritter away the strength of the force in small posts. The moment anything occurred they wanted to clap down a post on the disturbed spot; and if this had been allowed to go on unchecked there would not have been a man left to form a movable column or even to send out a patrol of sufficient strength.

The number of men to be kept at headquarters, the minimum strength of a post, and the minimum number of a patrol had to be absolutely laid down by the Chief Commissioner's order. At first the strength prescribed was too small. After some experience, the lowest post garrison was fixed at forty rifles, the minimum strength of a patrol at ten rifles; and these orders were stringently enforced.

It was resolved to mount a certain number of the force, and as soon as the ponies could be obtained--which was not an easy matter, as the mounted infantry and the army transport took up very many--about 10 per cent. of the men were mounted.

Many of the military police who arrived in Burma in 1887 were newly raised and insufficiently trained levies, and until the men had been drilled and taught to use their weapons it was impossible to do much towards relieving the soldiers from the outposts. The rainy season was occupied in the work of instruction. The task was performed under very difficult conditions, for the men were often called away to occupy posts and take part in active operations, and the officers were few. The duty was well done, and by the end of the autumn of 1887 we were in possession of an army, which proved itself to be a most serviceable instrument for reducing the country to order. The men, whether in the field or in their lines, behaved exceedingly well.

Hardly less important than the constitution of the force was its maintenance in a state of contentment and efficiency. At the beginning of 1887 the number of military police landed in Burma was between five and six thousand, and as the year advanced the force was fast increasing. As the men arrived they were rapidly distributed to the districts of Upper Burma, and when trained were destined to relieve the troops in distant outposts.

It was necessary to make immediate arrangements for their rations and for renewing their clothing, equipment, and ammunition; and also for the medical treatment of the men. The principal medical officer of the field force kindly undertook to organize the medical service, and Captain Davis was engaged in working out the details.

Captain S. C. F. Peile, who, in 1885, had accompanied the Bengal Brigade of the field force as executive commissariat officer, had been selected to organize the supply business of the police force. He was ready to commence work early in April. The rains in Burma begin in May. Large numbers of the police were stationed in the Eastern Division, where cart traffic would soon become impossible, and also in the Ruby Mines and other districts, which would soon be cut off altogether.

I had found at several places that the military police at outposts were not properly rationed and depended on the military commissariat, which might at any time be moved away.

The question arose as to the best method of supplying our men. One of the conditions under which they had taken service was that they should, as in the army, get money compensation for dearness of provisions at a rate varying with the price of flour. The men of the Indian army, when not on active service, ration themselves, and are paid on this principle. But this system presupposes that the necessary provisions are procurable in the local markets.

The Burman markets afford everything that a Burman needs--Burman caviare, a dainty that one has to be brought up to; tinned milk, biscuits, sardines, and other delicacies; but wheat flour, _ghi_ (clarified butter), and various pulses are not to be had. It is on such things that the fighting man from Northern India lives.

After discussing the question carefully with Captain Peile, it was determined, with the consent of the men, to give no compensation and to serve out rations to all at a fixed monthly charge. The Central Direction undertook to deliver sufficient supplies at the headquarters of each battalion. The distribution to the outposts was to be managed by the battalion officers with the battalion transport.

I was able to say at the end of the year that the Supply Department had worked well, and that without its aid the organization of the military police could not have been effected. The system has stood the trial of more than twenty years, and it is doubtful whether any cheaper or better system could have been devised for the supply of a large force in similar circumstances.

The same establishment under Captain Peile provided for the supply and renewal of clothing, arms, and ammunition.

These matters and the work connected with the many parts of the administrative machine of the province gave me ample occupation in Rangoon for some weeks.

FOOTNOTES:

[9] "Legend of Gaudama," vol. ii., p. 319. (Trübner, 1880.)

[10] _Ibid._, p. 242.

[11] _Ibid._, p. 303.

[12] "Legend of Gaudama," vol. ii., p. 303.

[13] A summary of the measures taken in Burma is given in the report of "The Committee appointed by the Philippine Commission to investigate the use of opium and the traffic therein," which deals with the evidence in a sane and judicial manner. (See "The Province of Burma," by Alleyne Ireland, F.R.G.S., vol. ii., p. 845 _et seq._)

[14] Mr. G. M. S. Carter had served in the Police Department in British Burma for eleven years and had made a reputation for ability and knowledge of the people. In June, 1886, he was appointed to be an Assistant Commissioner and posted to Upper Burma. Mr. Carter was one of the best executive officers in the Commission, and his death in 1890 was a severe loss to the Government and a sorrow to all of us, his comrades and friends.

[15] Mr. Todd Taylor, C.S.I., C.I.E., died last year, after acting as Financial Commissioner of Burma.

[16] Amongst others, Mr. Burgess, Mr. Fryer, Mr. Symes, and Mr. Carter were asking for leave. Of these only Mr. Fryer (Sir Frederic Fryer, K.C.S.I.) is alive. The others are dead many years.

[17] Mr. Smeaton was at this time serving in the North-Western (now United) Provinces of India.