groups of hungry, howling dogs, alone indicated where villages had been.[1]
From Meeaday our light column commenced its retrograde march upon Prome, where they arrived on the 24th of May, with 500 head of cattle purchased from the villagers; and almost immediately after their return, the persecuted and dislodged inhabitants of the town poured in from every quarter: some from the woods, bringing their families, their cattle, their waggons, and other property; and some escaped from the military escorts and disjointed corps of the King's fugitive army. Food and covering were given to the starving and naked; and those who had houses and property were secured in the possession of them. Our British soldiers assisted them in rebuilding their wooden houses, and their bamboo huts; and in a very short time Prome had risen from its ashes, a greater town than it had been before the war. As the people were punctually paid for whatever they brought, plentiful bazaars were soon established; and during the rainy season the troops were in comfortable cantonments, living in abundance and unmolested ease. Sickness returned, but not to the same extent as at Rangoon, and the loss of life was comparatively small.
The towns and districts in rear of the Anglo-Indian Army followed the example of the provincial capital; and the banks of the Irawaddi below Prome were soon enlivened by the presence of a contented people. An excellent depôt was also formed at Prome, with supplies sufficient not only for the rainy season, but for the long campaign which possibly might follow. The plains which our soldiers had traversed in their advance up the country without seeing a single bullock, were again covered with numerous herds – such is the confidence inspired by discipline and regularity. A state of desolation and anarchy once more gave way to order and plenty; and all classes of natives not only contributed their aid in collecting such supplies as the country
- ↑ Snodgrass.
