In a Burmese Prison [pp. 591-593]

IN' A B URIMESE P_RIS ONV.
markable man travelled through France, Belgium, and Germany, receivedl everywhere with enthusiasm, and now looked upon by the ignorant with awe as a magician, and now worshipped by the superstitious
as a saint. He went on horseback, dressed in the simple garb of
his profession, examining the soil, studying the landscape, and then,
with unerring accuracy, pointing out the place where springs, watercourses, and subterranean lakes, would be found. Over ten thousand
springs were thus opened, furnishing suffering provinces an ample
supply, and bestowing rich blessings upon a great kingdom.
While the simple, benevolent priest never used the rod nor accepted a reward, we learn that in our enlightened country the magic
wand and its mysticisms are coming to honor once more. Of the ten
or twelve thousand oil-wells bored in Pennsylvania, we are told that
one thousand at least were located by diviners with a divining-rod, or
with a pendulum made of a deerskin bag enclosing a ball of musk, or
by spiritualists falling into trances and executing spasmodic evolutions when they felt the influence of the spots to be selected! Surely,
when we hear such accounts, when we read of the divining-needle used
by Tartars, pointing to cabalistic signs and thus foretelling the future,
and compare this with our planchette, and when the witchcraft of
Hebrew days is found to have foreshadowed in every feature the exploits of modern rappers-we may well doubt the superiority of our
civilization.
SCHELE DE VERE.
IN A BURMESE PRISON.
N EARLY fifty years ago an Englishman named Gouger visited
Burmah, then almost unknown to the outside world, for the
purpose of regaining his health, which had been undermined by a residence in Bengal. With a view of making money by the expedition,
he took with him a stock of Manchester and Birmingham cottongoods, which he succeeded in selling to the Burmese at an enormous
profit. Returning to Calcutta, he invested the proceeds in a mixed
cargo, with which he again sailed for Burmah. Here he was successful, both in business and social relations, receiving many attentions
from the king and dignitaries of his court, and amassing great wealth
by the sale of his wares.
After remaining several months in Ava he was alarmed by news
of threatened hostilities between the British and Burmese Governments. The latter, being wholly ignorant of the resources of their
opponent, were eager to go to war on a slight pretext, as they thought
it would be easy to capture Calcutta and obtain possession of other
ports of Bengal. Gouger vainly attempted to convince them of the
folly of this course. The favor with which he had been regarded
soon changed to hatred. He was charged with being a spy of the
British Government, and the fact that he had made sketches of buildings and scenes near Ava was, with other suspicious circumstances,
the cause of his arrest and of a long and terrible captivity.
At first he was placed in some old sheds used as barracks in the
palace-yard of the king, and guarded by royal sentinels. Among
other reports circulated to his prejudice, it was said that he was
brother-in-law to the East-India Company, that august personage, as
the ignorant Burmese regarded him, having married his sister. After
ten days' confinement in the bamboo sheds he was startled by the entrance of a gang of ruffians with cords and long canes in their hands,
whose appearance indicated some evil intent. Between thlese men
and the guards a fight took place for the trifling articles of furniture
in the room. They then stripped him of part of his clothing, saying,
by way of consolation, as jacket and trousers were torn off, "they
will be of no use to you, for you are to be carried to the Let-nma-yoon
toung" (the death-prison). Of the four common prisons in Ava this
was the one appropriated to criminals who would probably be condemned to die. Its name in the Burmese language, signifying the
extreme of human suffering, aptly symbolized the cruel treatment inflicted on its inmates. This den was guarded by seven or eight condemned malefactors, whose lives had been spared on the condition of
their becoming common executioners. The more infamous the criminal, the better fitted he was judged to be for his revolting duties.
To prevent the escape of these wretches by making detection an
easy matter, a circular mark was indelibly tattooed on each cheek.
From this brand they were called pah-quet, or ring-cheeked. Such
was their detestation of this name that none of the prisoners ever
dared by using it to remind them of the execration in which they
were held. The nature of their qualifications for their employment
was stamped upon their breasts. In order to curry favor with the
chief of these miscreants, the prisoners, as well as his subordinates,
addressed him as aphe, or father. He was a lean, hard-featured
old man, whose qualification for his office was indicated by the word
loo-that, or murderer, tattooed upon his skin. The motto borne
by another stamped him as a fratricide. A third was branded thoo kho, or thief, and a fourth myeng-kho, horse-stealer. These men
were forbidden by law to enter any house except in execution of their
office.
In a room about forty feet long by thirty wide, low-studded, and
without any window or aperture to admit light or air except a closelywoven bamboo wicket used as a door and always kept closed, Gouger
and his companions were confined. They only escaped death by suf focation by breathing the little air which found its way through chinks
between the teak-boards composing the badly-constructed walls, or
which entered through a hole near the roof of the building, where
some decayed plank had been torn off. Among the few articles of
furniture in the room was a gigantic row of stocks similar to those
formerly used in England, and capable of confining more than a dozen
persons. It was compared to a huge alligator that opened and shut
its jaws with a loud snap upon its prey. There were also smaller
articles of the same kind, though of ruder construction, and even more
uncomfortable.
But the most deceptive piece of furniture in the room was a long
bamboo suspended from the roof by a rope at each end, and easily
raised or lowered by means of pulleys. This affair, which looked
something like a swing, was really an instrument of torture. Its simplicity of appearance conveyed no idea of the suffering it was capable
of causing. At night it was let down, so that the bamboo could be
passed between the legs of the prisoners. After these were fastened
to it, it was raised to such a height as to inflict great pain on the prisoners without endangering their lives. Its victims, like those who
were confined in the stocks, had their heads and shoulders stretched
upon the ground, and in this painful position could obtain only broken
and unrefreshing sleep.
There were some forty or fifty prisoners lying on the floor of this
room when Gouger entered it, all of them nearly naked, and very few
without chains. Their emaciated frames and woe-begone countenances
told the story of their wretchedness better than words, and their
stolid, silent indifference was more expressive than complaints or
groans. It was the silence of hopelessness, the apathy of despair.
The condition of the prison can be judged from the fact that it was
never washed or even swept. The garbage which had accumulated
here offended all the senses. It reeked and even moved with putridity.
Among the prisoners was Dr. Judson, the American missionary, an
account of whose arrest and incarceration has been given in his
wife's letters. The numbness and stiffness of the limbs caused by
these nights of torture by the bamboo was partially relieved in the
morning by lowering the instrument to within a foot of the ground,
thus permitting the blood to circulate more freely. At eight o'clock
the prisoners were driven out in gangs of ten or twelve to take the
air, five minutes only being allowed for this purpose. Even fresh air,
which is elsewhere freely granted to the vilest malefactors, was denied
to the inmates of the Let-ma-yoon. Gouger was more fortunate than
most of the prisoners in receiving a daily supply of food. This was
brought by one of his servants to the outside gate, where, after being
examined by the officers, it was handed to him by one of the ringedmen. Had it not been for this circumstance he would have been almost starved. As no provisions were furnished by the Burmese authorities to the prisoners, they were almost wholly dependent upon
the kind offices of their relatives or friends at large. Even the charity
of the natives, which was manifested by occasionally sending to the
captives large baskets of rice, was too limited to afford sufficient
nourishment. These supplies furnished a single hearty meal to every
prisoner, but, as a week or two would often pass before they were renewed, the prisoners had to depend in the mean time on the kindness
of such of the inmates as could spare a trifle from their own scanty
store. Thus the famished appearance of many of these poor creatures
was easily accounted for. When a person was imprisoned for treason
or any other crime against the state, many of the most charitably
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