The Golden Land (4 page)

Andrew felt embarrassed by her vehemence and tried to keep her to her personal story. ‘I believe that you went to England at one point?'

‘I wanted to learn more about my enemy, so I sold what little jewellery and possessions I had and I went to England with a charismatic Indian who was a poet, a philosopher and a fighter for India's independence. He made me realise just how much we in Burma had been exploited by the British. But I did not stay long. Two years later I married a saopha from the Shan hill tribes.'

‘A Shan prince. That seems appropriate,' said Andrew.

The princess shrugged. ‘We were minor royalty, but we were invited to attend the durbar in Delhi in 1903, which was held to celebrate the accession of Edward VII as emperor of India. King Thibaw wished to attend but the British refused his request. But I rode at the head of the Shan chiefs in a golden howdah on a white elephant decorated with jewels and peacock feathers.'

‘That sounds very impressive,' said Andrew politely.

‘It might have been if I'd had more money, but my husband was mean and, as you know, my family had nothing.'

‘What did you do? How were you able to live?'

‘I went into trade. First with elephants and then I expanded into other business opportunities. I enjoyed it and I was quite successful but my husband did not approve and said that what I did was not worthy of a Burmese princess. So I divorced him.'

‘When did you come back to Burma?' Andrew tried not to show impatience with her bald summary of what seemed to be quite major events. He longed for all the details.

‘As you may know, when the king finally died in India, the queen and other members of his family were allowed to return to Burma. Although the queen was not permitted into Mandalay, I was allowed to take up residence there. I knew it well and had friends who could help me. I went into the logging business. I also traded ivory with the Chinese. Opium, too. But I found it was better for me to be in Rangoon. I could make more money here. I bought property. I managed to acquire some lucrative contracts, building roads and supplying teak logs to the British. The British did not like me because I drove a very hard bargain with them.' The princess smiled for the first time and paused, then she reached across to the little table and struck a small gong sitting on it.

The young man swiftly and silently appeared and the princess spoke to him in a dialect that Andrew didn't understand.

‘I have ordered tea,' she explained.

‘May I ask you, the young man, is he a Shan?'

‘Yes. The Shan are a very proud people. They have always been independent, never under the rule of the Burmese kings. His father was a friend of mine but he was murdered. Now I care for his son who helps me. So, while he is not of my blood, he is all the family I need.'

The young man returned with a pot of smoky Burmese tea, poured a cup for each of them and then silently left the room. Andrew gazed around as he sipped his tea and wondered to himself how it was that a successful businesswoman could end up in such reduced circumstances.

The princess watched him and then said bitterly, ‘You are wondering how I came to live here. I must tell you that it is the doing of the British. They saw how my business grew and they thought that since I was of the royal line and increasingly wealthy, I would become a focus of rebellion and a threat to their rule, so they conspired to take my wealth from me.'

‘But surely the British knew that you wouldn't be a threat.'

The princess pointed at Andrew. ‘You know nothing! British intelligence is full of liars and inept idiots plotting to feather their own nests. But they know that there are rebels trying to get rid of the British. Even some of the monks are prepared to act! Many Burmese are tired of seeing the riches of the country stolen from our shrines and pagodas and, more than that, the Burmese just don't want to be ruled by another nation. We want to run things our way. The British knew that I had been involved in the nationalist movement in India, so they were not going to take any chances.'

‘The British have brought a lot of prosperity to Burma. Opened up business opportunities, built roads and ports. They have brought benefits to this country,' said Andrew stiffly, feeling that as an Englishman he should defend the empire builders.

‘They help themselves for the benefit of Britain, not for the benefit of the Burmese,' she answered.

‘How did the British rob you of your wealth?' asked Andrew, not believing that something so underhanded could have occurred.

‘They denied me contracts and gave them to my competitors who did not deserve them. My goods were held up in the ports. Shipping manifests were mislaid. Customs officers took their time. Banks called in loans. It's easy to organise these things when you have the power. Gradually, bit by bit, all my things had to be sold off, just to keep this miserable roof over my head.'

‘But surely you don't mean that every Britisher has wronged you? There must be some who have not been so greedy.'

‘If you are referring to that nice Mr Watt you are right. He is a good man, but he is married to a Burmese woman so he has a better understanding of things. But he is the only one. They take and they take. Just recently I had to give up something I treasured to a pompous little Scot, with his silly pince-nez. It would have been less galling if I'd been robbed by a local looking for a means to buy food.'

‘What did you give up?' asked Andrew.

‘Perhaps “give up” is not quite correct.' The princess lifted her shoulders. ‘He was very persuasive. And I needed money. Now I am deeply regretful and sad. I had promised myself that no matter what happened I would not sell the last thing I owned that I had from my brother. I feel that I was pressured and intimidated. And I am not even sure that I sold it for its true value.'

‘What was it?' asked Andrew quietly.

‘I parted with a kammavaca. Do you know what this is? It is a Buddhist text usually written on palm leaves, except this was not on a palm leaf. It was made especially for my brother by monks and there is a great story attached to it.' She sighed. ‘It should be treated with respect.' She lifted her hand in a small sad gesture. ‘Now I have sold it just to survive. Maybe you would say that I was willingly robbed, but once again I know that I was bullied by the British who always expect to get their way.'

Andrew shifted uncomfortably. He had an idea of who might have bought the princess's kammavaca. He remembered Ferguson, the self-important art dealer he had met when he first came to Burma. Andrew hadn't crossed paths with the Scot since he'd been back, but he recalled that Ferguson liked to tell everyone that he was an expert on eastern art. It sounded as though the man was in Burma and still in the business of acquiring antiquities and cultural artefacts.

‘That is very unfortunate. I'm sorry that you felt forced to sell something from your brother. What is the story behind the kammavaca?' asked Andrew.

‘It had been made with such reverence and patience by the monks. And it was my last link with my family. My brother gave it to me just before he died and told me that the kammavaca held the secret to my family's return to power. Now it is gone and my family remains powerless so my hatred of the British is greater than ever,' she said calmly.

‘I can understand you feeling like that. Perhaps you will be able to get it back one day,' said Andrew in the face of her justifiable bitterness. Suddenly he found himself adding, ‘What if I could get it back for you?'

She glared at his little smile. ‘Don't serve me platitudes,' she snapped.

Andrew, seeing the princess's steely expression and burning eyes, knew she was angry, not just at the British administration and the likes of Ferguson, but also at herself, for having sold something so precious. ‘If you tell me more of your story, it may help my readers in England know Burma and its people a little better, and why you feel the way you do. I understand your anger, I really do. I am often ashamed by the conduct of some of my compatriots,' he finished.

‘I'd like to believe you. I'd like to believe my kammavaca could be retrieved. The king placed such importance in it. But why should I trust you?' The princess stopped. ‘Enough. I have said enough already.' With that she hit the little gong again and when the young Shan entered the room she told him that Andrew was leaving and directed him to escort the photographer to the front gate.

‘I wanted to thank you for the introduction to the princess,' said Andrew as he walked back into Mr Watt's bookshop after his abrupt dismissal by the princess.

Mr Watt chuckled. ‘I had wondered how you survived the interview. Did she give you the rounds of the kitchen about us colonials?'

‘Indeed she did. I can understand why she feels that way. But I held my tongue,' said Andrew.

‘Ah, wise move. Did she reveal any details about her extraordinary life?'

‘Not as many as I would have liked. I caught her at a bad time. And I have to say I felt uncomfortable, in fact somewhat guilty, as she'd just been taken advantage of by a rather obnoxious Scot who'd pressured her into selling him the last remaining possession that had been her brother's. I think that it not only had sentimental value but was of some great cultural significance.'

‘That is a shame. You can't be responsible for the behaviour of others whether they are British or Bolivian,' said Mr Watt. ‘But I must agree with you, the British rulers are a rapacious lot out here. Take everything that's not nailed down and even then they take the nails. Difficult for the Burmese to stop it and such behaviour creates a lot of ill will.'

‘The princess seems such a formidable character, but she is a forgotten woman. She lives in utter poverty!' exclaimed Andrew. ‘It amazes me that she has nothing, after being so rich. I really felt that she had been cheated, so I offered to get her kammavaca back for her. I think that the person who bought it could be a man called Ferguson. I met him once when I was here before the war.'

‘I know Ferguson. Greedy little man. No respect for Burmese artefacts. Well, that's not entirely true, he knows their cash value to him on the open market. I believe he has made a lot of money selling artworks and statuary in Europe and America.'

‘I doubt what he's bought from her is that valuable,' said Andrew.

‘But if this one was made for the king, it gives it more cachet. A certain unique provenance,' said Mr Watt. ‘If you can get it back, I'm sure the princess will be grateful. Maybe she'll tell you more about her life – then you'll have a great story, believe me.'

‘You've fired my enthusiasm even more. I can redeem some honour for my country by returning the kammavaca that means so much to her and find a great story as well,' said Andrew. ‘I'm sure I'll be able to track Ferguson down, and on the way there will be some great tales to sell to the magazines back home.'

Mr Watt shook Andrew's hand. ‘Good luck, and be careful. Away from the cities Burma can be a dangerous place these days. I will be keen to hear of your progress.'

‘I'll see you when I get back, and with any luck I'll have a good reason to see the princess, too.'

Andrew walked into the British Pegu Club, a modest club by some colonial standards, and, hearing the thwack of tennis balls, wondered at the madness of some members choosing to play an energetic game in the heat of the day. He ordered a gin, eschewing the club's Pegu cocktail, and wandered out to the verandah to admire the profusion of English flowers being tended by the Indian gardener. Andrew was an infrequent visitor to the Rangoon club as he quickly tired of the all-white male members' gossip. He thought their banter about the inadequacies of the Burmese and their complaints about the laziness of the Indian and Chinese coolies and servants were demeaning.

Andrew never ceased to be shocked by the imperious attitude of the British civil servants. The British police officers often made rather incendiary and unnecessary remarks about the local people. Andrew had fought beside Indian military companies in the trenches on the Western Front so he knew what brave and reliable soldiers they were. Many of the comments he had to listen to were nonsense, but he held his tongue and kept his opinions to himself. Tipi Si's story had yet again reaffirmed his discomfort at British behaviour in Burma. Nevertheless he chatted briefly with several regular members and the club secretary, and eventually learned that Ferguson was indeed in Burma. He had recently set off on a trip north, presumably to collect more artefacts. Cheered by this information, Andrew departed the club and set about planning his own foray to the north.

Andrew felt his legs wobble and feet bounce as he stepped onto the narrow plank linking the old boat to the landing. Surrounded by goods and other passengers, he'd been the only European on the boat since its dawn departure from the busy port of Sittwe. The creek was low and the mud shone in the last light of the day. It had been an arduous journey up the Kaladan River and now the simple village of Thantara looked very welcome.

Andrew managed to get directions to a small guesthouse where he stayed the night. There he made arrangements to travel by pony cart to Mrauk-U, the place where he'd been told Ferguson was working.

Andrew had been on Ferguson's trail for weeks, travelling overland and along rivers. He had taken photographs of the countryside with its ancient temples and little villages, as well as the Burmese people. Every place he'd been to seemed to have a story to tell and Andrew knew that he would be able to sell most of them. Mrauk-U was not easily accessed but not a surprising destination for the Scot as the ancient capital was filled with the remains of temples and pagodas.

As the little pony trotted through the ruins, Andrew saw that village life continued to flourish among the crumbling stupas. Goats fed on the grasses around the hilltop pagodas, and the village itself encircled the area where a royal palace once stood. It didn't take long to learn that Ferguson had hired several locals to help him work at the Shitthaung Pagoda.