In achieving these satisfactory results I was materially aided by the hearty co-operation of Sir Charles Bernard and the civil officers serving under him; while the entire absence of fanaticism amongst the Burmese, and their cheerful, happy natures, facilitated our intercourse with them.  I received, besides, most valuable assistance from the Buddhist Poonghies, or monks, with many of whom I made friends.  From the fact that education, secular and religious, is imparted by these monks, and that every male, from the King to the humblest peasant, was obliged to enter a monastery and wear the saffron garb of a monk for a certain period, the priesthood had enormous influence with the Burmese.  There are no hereditary Chiefs or Nobles in Burma, the Poonghies being the advisers of the people and the centre round which Native society revolves.

Our occupation of Upper Burma was necessarily a great blow to the Buddhist priesthood, for many of the monasteries[4] were kept up entirely by the King, Queen, and Ministers of State; and, as it was most advisable to have the influence of the monks in our favour, I recommended that a monthly stipend should be paid to the Archbishop and two senior Bishops of Mandalay.  They showed their gratitude by doing all they could to help me, and when I was leaving the country the old Thathanabain (Archbishop) accompanied me as far as Rangoon.  We corresponded till his death, and I still hear occasionally from one or other of my Poonghie friends.

I remained only a short time in Calcutta on my return to India, and then started off again for the North-West Frontier, in company with General Chesney, who had previously expressed his general concurrence in my defence proposals, but was anxious to see the several positions and judge for himself, from an Engineer’s point of view, of their suitability to be treated as I suggested.  It was a great source of contentment to me to find that the sites chosen and the style of entrenchments I had advocated commended themselves to my expert companion.

Simla was more than usually gay during the summer of 1887, in consequence of the numerous entertainments given in celebration of Her Majesty’s Jubilee.  We had just added a ballroom to ‘Snowdon,’ and we inaugurated its opening by a fancy ball on the 21st June, in honour of the auspicious anniversary.

My name appeared in the Jubilee Gazette as having been given the Grand Cross of the Indian Empire, but what I valued still more was the acceptance by the Government of India of my strong recommendation for the establishment of a Club or Institute in every British regiment and battery in India.  In urging that this measure should be favourably considered, I had said that the British Army in India could have no better or more generally beneficial memorial of the Queen’s Jubilee than the abolition of that relic of barbarism, the canteen, and its supersession by an Institute, in which the soldier would have under the same roof a reading-room, recreation room, and a decently-managed refreshment-room.