Asaygan Fort

By 1850, King Mindon began to build fortifications along the Ayeyarwaddy River to prepare for the expected skirmishes to come with British troops. In 1885, three forts were built in a triangle in attempt to trap oncoming British soldiers, and were considered the last line of defense before the royal capital of Mandalay. Asaygan was one of these three, designed in the shape of a semi-circle, with walls nine feet high with holes for rifle fire (except for the south-facing wall). In the end, however, the forts were never used because the King and Parliament ordered its troops not to resist when the British did eventually come; indeed, when the advancing Colonel White arrived to disarm the populace, he was given a dinner by the newly surrendered Burmese commander. Sir Herbert White writes in A Civil Servant in Burma, “The fall of Mandalay had been so sudden that it had not yet been realized in rural places, and the forces of opposition had not yet been organized. Very soon the turmoil began. It was then long before officers were able to travel without escort in Upper Burma.”

The inexorable march of tropical greenery has invaded even the innermost fortifications, but amidst this one can find some old cannons and the original walls. On the Sagaing side there are tombstones of British soldiers who died in some minor skirmishes in 1885 in spite of the overall peaceful surrender of Burmese forces.

Obviously, this fort is not really related to Buddhist practice in any way. So unless one is a history buff, it may not be worth the detour, and there are certainly no conducive sites for a sitting. But if one does go, the crows can be quite bad here during the cool season, so a laser is recommended. Admission to the fort is free.

A Grave Risk to Future Disaster

“As strict Buddhists, Burmans are supposed to abstain from animal food, or, at least, from taking life for the purpose of providing food. For fishermen, who must break this precept daily, special uncomfortable hells are reserved. Hunting and shooting are practised at grave risk of future disaster, and usually by the younger men who think they have time to make up for these derelictions, or are giddily thoughtless of the hereafter. A pious friend of mine in Upper Burma used to be much scandalized at the levity of his aged father, who persisted in coursing hares when he ought to have been making his soul. But as regards the consumption of flesh of birds, beasts, and fish, there seems to be no practical restraint among any class... The flesh of no creature which has died a natural death, except perhaps dogs and tigers, is despised.” 

--- Sir Herbert White, A Civil Servant in Burma, 1913

Ledi Sayadaw: "His fervour and fiery zeal effected real revival..."

Sir Herbert White was a British administrator who spent much time in Burma in the late 19th and early 20th century. His highly engaging memoirs, A Civil Servant in Burma from 1913, offers a rich collection of anecdotes, history, and observation from an official who was perhaps more open-minded and inquisitive than many of his peers. In the following remarkable passage, Sir White comments on having heard about the great works of-- and later meeting-- the venerable Ledi Sayadaw.

“One of the most striking personalities in modern Burmese Buddhism is the Ledi Sadaw [sic]. This remarkable man devoted some years of his life to travelling through the country preaching and exhorting. His passionate eloquence drew immense congregations. Wherever he went he was greeted by enraptured throngs. Men and women vied in adoration of this saintly personage, women loosing their hair and spreading it as a carpet for his holy feet. His fervour and fiery zeal effected real revivals, whether lasting or transitory I dare not say. Besides addressing public assemblies, he obtained leave to enter jails and preach reformation to the prisoners, apparently with good results. In spite of the extraordinary enthusiasm which he inspired and the honours thrust upon him in his triumphal progress, he preserved unstained and flawless, simplicity and humility of character. We are not wont to regard with favour errant monks preaching here and there. Too often their exhortations have tended to sedition, their liberty has been a cloak for licence. Never for a moment did the Ledi Sadaw fall under a shadow of suspicion as to the purity of his motives and conduct, or the good intention of his pilgrimage. The ethical part of his sermons consisted of fervent denunciations of intemperance, drinking, gambling, opium-smoking, the pleasant vices most devastating among Burmans. In no way inspired by any Government officer, he did not hold aloof from the authorities, but desired to be on good terms with them. Speaking to Colonel Maxwell, who more than most of us won the intimate confidence of Burmans, in all simplicity he said: ‘I am not sure that Government will approve my preaching. There will be much loss of revenue; for when I have finished, all liquor and opium shops will be closed for want of custom.’ With a clear conscience the Commissioner bade him go on and prosper, assuring him that Government would be well pleased if so desirable a result... A travelling set of the Buddhist scriptures was the only mark of Government's appreciation. I had the privilege of one interview with this extraordinary man. What chiefly impressed me was his weary expression, as though the working of the fiery spirit had worn out the frail tenement of the body. I am glad to hear that the Sadaw still lives, and that his preaching days are not over.”

"Falser than the Roman's conception of Britain..."

"No doubt Burma was regarded as a place of banishment, a dismal rice-swamp (or, as was once said, a howling paddy-plain), where the sun never shone. I remember, while still in London, the commiseration expressed with one of our seniors whose deportation to this dreary land was announced. All this was fiction, falser than the Roman's conception of Britain. I found Burma a bright and pleasant land, green and forest-clad, with a climate healthier on the whole than the average climate of Indian plains; its people singularly human, cheerful, and sympathetic."

Sir Herbert Thirkell White, A Civil Servant in Burma, 1913