Journey to the Rajah’s residence at Tumloong—Ryott valley—Rajah’s
house—Tupgain Lama—Lagong nunnery—Phadong Goompa—Phenzong ditto—Lepcha
Sepoys—Proceedings at Tumloong—Refused admittance to Rajah—Women’s
dresses—Meepo’s and Tchebu Lama’s families—Chapel—Leave for Chola
pass—Ryott river—Rungpo, view from—Deputation of Kajees,
etc.—Conference—Laghep—Eatable fruit of
_Decaisnia_—_Cathcartia_—Rhododendrons—Phieung- goong—Pines—Rutto
river—Barfonchen—Curling of rhododendron leaf—Woodcock—Chola pass—Small
lakes—Tibet guard and sepoys—Dingpun—Arrival of Sikkim sepoys—Their
conduct—Meet Singtam Soubah—Chumanako—We are seized by the Soubah’s
party—Soubah’s conduct—Dingpun Tinli—Treatment of Dr. Campbell—Bound
and guarded—Separated from Campbell—Marched to Tumloong—Motives for
such conduct—Arrive at Rungpo—At Phadong—Presents from Rajah—Visits of
Lama—Of Singtam Soubah—I am cross-questioned by Amlah—Confined with
Campbell—Seizure of my Coolies—Threats of attacking Dorjiling.
We started on the 3rd of November for Tumloong (or Sikkim Durbar), Dr.
Campbell sending Tchebu Lama forward with letters to announce his
approach. A steep ascent, through large trees of _Rhododendron
arboreum,_ led over a sharp spur of mica-schist (strike north-west and
dip north-east), beyond which the whole bay-like valley of the Ryott
opened before us, presenting one of the most lovely and fertile
landscapes in Sikkim. It is ten miles long, and three or four broad,
flanked by lofty mountains, and its head girt by the beautiful snowy
range of Chola, from which silvery rills descend through black
pine-woods, dividing innumerable converging cultivated spurs, and
uniting about 2000 feet below us, in a profound gorge. Everywhere were
scattered houses, purple crops of buckwheat, green fields of young
wheat, yellow millet, broad green plantains, and orange groves.
We crossed spur after spur, often under or over precipices about
fifteen hundred feet above the river, proceeding eastwards to the
village of Rangang, whence we caught sight of the Rajah’s house. It was
an irregular low stone building of Tibetan architecture, with slanting
walls and small windows high up under the broad thatched roof, above
which, in the middle, was a Chinese-looking square copper-gilt canopy,
with projecting eaves and bells at the corners, surmounted by a ball
and square spire. On either gable of the roof was a round-topped
cylinder of gilded copper, something like a closed umbrella; this is a
very frequent and characteristic Boodhist ornament, and is represented
in Turner’s plate of the mausoleum of Teshoo Lama (“Tibet” plate xi.);
indeed the Rajah’s canopy at Tumloong is probably a copy of the upper
part of the building there represented, having been built by architects
from Teshoo Loombo. It was surrounded by chaits, mendongs, poles with
banners, and other religious erections; and though beautifully situated
on a flat terrace overlooking the valley, we were much disappointed
with its size and appearance.
On the brow of the hill behind was the large red goompa of the Tupgain
Lama, the late heir-apparent to the temporal and spiritual authority in
Sikkim; and near it a nunnery called Lagong, the lady abbess of which
is a daughter of the Rajah, who, with the assistance of sisters, keeps
an enormous Mani, or praying-cylinder, revolving perpetually to the
prayer of “Om Mani Padmi hom.” On this side was a similar spur, on
which the gilded pinnacles and copper canopy of the Phadong[304] goompa
gleamed through the trees. At a considerable distance across the head
of the valley was still a third goompa, that of Phenzong.
[304] Phadong means Royal, and this temple answers to a chapel royal
for the Rajah.
We were met by a large party of armed Lepchas, dressed in blue and
white striped kirtles, broad loose scarlet jackets; and the little
bamboo wattle hat lined with talc, and surmounted by a peacock’s
feather; they escorted us to the village, and then retired.
We encamped a few hundred feet below the Rajah’s house, and close by
those of Meepo and the Tchebu Lama’s family, who are among the oldest
and most respectable of Tibetan origin in Sikkim. The population on
this, the north side of the Ryott, consists principally of Sikkim
Bhoteeas and Tibetans, while the opposite is peopled by Lepchas. Crowds
came to see us, and many brought presents, with which we were
overwhelmed; but we could not help remarking that our cordial greetings
were wholly from the older families attached to the Rajah, and from the
Lamas; none proceeded from the Dewan’s relatives or friends, nor
therefore any in the name of the Rajah himself, or of the Sikkim
government.
Tchebu Lama vainly used every endeavour to procure for us an audience
with his highness; who was surrounded by his councillors, or Amlah, all
of whom were adherents of the Dewan, who was in Tibet. My man Meepo,
and the Tchebu Lama; who were ordered to continue in official
attendance upon us, shrugged their shoulders, but could suggest no
remedy. On the following morning Campbell was visited by many parties,
amongst whom were the Lama’s family, and that of the late Dewan (Ilam
Sing), who implored us to send again to announce our presence, and not
to dismiss at once the moonshie and his office,[305] who had
accompanied us for the purpose of a conference with the Rajah. Their
wishes were complied with, and we waited till noon before proceeding.
[305] It is usual in India for Government officers when about to
transact business, to travel with a staff (called office) of native
interpreters, clerks, etc., of whom the chief is commonly called
moonchie.
[Illustration: Tchebu Lama]
A gay and animated scene was produced by the concourse of women,
dressed in their pretty striped and crossed cloaks, who brought tokens
of good-will. Amongst them Meepo’s wife appeared conspicuous from the
large necklaces[306] and amulets, corals, and silver filagree work,
with which her neck and shoulders were loaded: she wore on her head a
red tiara (“Patuk”) bedizened with seed pearls and large turquoises,
and a gold fillet of filagree bosses united by a web of slender chains;
her long tails were elaborately plaited, and woven with beads, and her
cloak hooked in front by a chain of broad silver links studded with
turquoises. White silk scarfs, the emblem of peace and friendship, were
thrown over our hands by each party; and rice, eggs, fowls, kids,
goats, and Murwa beer, poured in apace, to the great delight of our
servants.
[306] The lumps of amber forming these (called “Poshea”) were larger
than the fist: they are procured in East Tibet, probably from Birmah.
We returned two visits of ceremony, one to Meepo’s house, a poor
cottage, to which we carried presents of chintz dresses for his two
little girls, who were busy teazing their hair with cylindrical combs,
formed of a single slender joint of bamboo slit all round half-way up
into innumerable teeth. Our other visit was paid to the Lama’s family,
who inhabited a large house not far from the Rajah’s. The lower story
was an area enclosed by stone walls, into which the cattle, etc., were
driven. An outside stone stair led to the upper story, where we were
received by the head of the family, accompanied by a great concourse of
Lamas. He conducted us to a beautiful little oratory at one end of the
building, fitted up like a square temple, and lighted with latticed
windows, covered with brilliant and tasteful paintings by Lhassan
artists. The beams of the ceiling were supported by octagonal columns
painted red, with broad capitals. Everywhere the lotus, the mani, and
the chirki (or wheel with three rays, emblematic of the Boodhist
Trinity), were introduced; “Om Mani Padmi hom” in gilt letters, adorned
the projecting end of every beam;[307] and the Chinese “cloud
messenger,” or winged dragon, floated in azure and gold along the
capitals and beams, amongst scrolls and groups of flowers. At one end
was a sitting figure of Gorucknath in Lama robes, surrounded by a
glory, with mitre and beads; the right hand holding the Dorje, and the
forefinger raised in prayer. Around was a good library of books. More
presents were brought here, and tea served.
[307] A mythical animal with a dog’s head and blood-red spot over the
forehead was not uncommon in this chapel, and is also seen in the
Sikkim temples and throughout Tibet. Ermann, in his Siberian Travels,
mentions it as occurring in the Khampa Lama’s temple at Maimao chin;
he conjectures it to have been the Cyclops of the Greeks, which
according to the Homeric myth had a mark on the forehead, instead of
an eye. The glory surrounding the heads of Tibetan deities is also
alluded to by Ermann, who recognises in it the Nimbus of the ancients,
used to protect the heads of statues from the weather, and from being
soiled by birds; and adds that the glory of the ancient masters in
painting was no doubt introduced into the Byzantine school from the
Boodhists.
[Illustration: Clasp of a woman’s cloak]
The route to Chola pass, which crosses the range of that name south of
the Chola peak (17,320 feet) at the head of this valley, is across the
Ryott, and then eastwards along a lofty ridge. Campbell started at
noon, and I waited behind with Meepo, who wished me to see the Rajah’s
dwelling, to which we therefore ascended; but, to my guide’s chagrin,
we were met and turned back by a scribe, or clerk, of the Amlah. We
were followed by a messenger, apologising and begging me to return; but
I had already descended 1000 feet, and felt no inclination to reascend
the hill, especially as there did not appear to be anything worth
seeing. Soon after I had overtaken Campbell, he was accosted by an
excessively dirty fellow, who desired him to return for a conference
with the Amlah; this was of course declined, but, at the same time,
Campbell expressed his readiness to receive the Amlah at our halting
place.
The Ryott flows in a very tropical gorge 2000 feet above the sea; from
the proximity of the snowy mountains, its temperature was only 64·3°.
Thence the ascent is very steep to Rungpo, where we took up our
quarters at a rest house at an height of 6008 feet. This road is well
kept, and hence onwards is traversed yearly by the Rajah on his way to
his summer residence of Choombi, two marches beyond the Cbola pass;
whither he is taken to avoid the Sikkim rains, which are peculiarly
disagreeable to Tibetans. Rungpo commands a most beautiful view
northwards, across the valley, of the royal residence, temples,
goompas, hamlets, and cultivation, scattered over spurs that emerge
from the forest, studded below with tree-ferns and plantains, and
backed by black pine-woods and snowy mountains. In the evening the
Amlah arrived to confer with Campbell; at first there was a proposal of
turning us out of the house, in which there was plenty of room besides,
but as we declined to move, except by his Highness’s order, they put up
in houses close by.
On the following morning they met us as we were departing for Chola
pass, bringing large presents in the name of the Rajah, and excuses on
their and his part for having paid us no respect at Tumloong, saying,
that it was not the custom to receive strangers till after they had
rested a day, that they were busy preparing a suitable reception, etc.;
this was all false, and contrary to etiquette, but there was no use in
telling them so. Campbell spoke firmly and kindly to them, and pointed
out their incivility and the unfriendly tone of their whole conduct.
They then desired Campbell to wait and discuss business affairs with
them; this was out of the question, and he assured them that he was
ever ready to do so with the Rajah, that he was now (as he had informed
his Highness) on his way with me to the Chola and Yakla passes, and
that we had, for want of coolies, left some loads behind us, which, if
they were really friendly, they would forward. This they did, and so we
parted; they (contrary to expectation) making no objection to
Campbell’s proceeding with me.
A long march up a very steep, narrow ridge took us by a good road to
Laghep, a stone resting-house (alt. 10,475 feet) on a very narrow flat.
I had abundance of occupation in gathering rhododendron-seeds, of which
I procured twenty-four kinds[308] on this and the following day.
[308] These occurred in the following order in ascending, commencing
at 6000 feet.—1. _R. Dalhousiæ_; 2. _R. vaccinioides_; 3. _R.
camelliæflorwm_; 4. _R. arboreum._ Above 8000 feet:—5. _R. argenteum_;
6. _R. Falconeri_; 7. _R. barbatum_; 8. _R. Campbelliæ_; 9. _R.
Edgeworthii_; 10. _R. niveum_; 11. _R. Thomsoni_; 12. _R.
cinnabarinum_; 13. _R. glaucum._ Above 10,500 feet:—14. _R. lanatum_;
15. _R. virgatum_; 16. _R. campylocarpum_; 17. _R. ciliatum_; 18. _R.
Hodgsoni_; 19. _R. campanulatum._ Above 12,000 feet:—20. _R.
lepidotum_; 21. _R. fulgens_; 22. _R. Wightianum_; 23. _R.
anthopogon_; 24. _R. setosum._
A very remarkable plant, which I had seen in flower in the Lachen
valley, called “Loodoo-ma” by the Bhoteeas, and “Nomorchi” by Lepchas,
grew on the ridge at 7000 feet; it bears a yellow fruit like short
cucumbers, full of a soft, sweet, milky pulp, and large black seeds; it
belongs to a new genus,[309] allied to _Stauntonia,_ of which two
Himalayan kinds produce similar, but less agreeable edible fruits
(“Kole-pot,” Lepcha). At Laghep, iris was abundant, and a small bushy
berberry (_B. concinna_) with oval eatable berries. The north wall of
the house (which was in a very exposed spot) was quite bare, while the
south was completely clothed with moss and weeds.
[309] This genus, for which Dr. Thomson and I, in our “Flora Indies,”
have proposed the name _Decaisnea_ (in honour of my friend Professor
J. Decaisne, the eminent French botanist), has several straight,
stick-like, erect branches from the root, which bear spreading
pinnated leaves, two feet long, standing out horizontally. The flowers
are uni-sexual, green, and in racemes, and the fruits, of which two or
three grow together, are about four inches long, and one in diameter.
All the other plants of the natural order to which it belongs, are
climbers.
The rocks above Laghep were gneiss; below it, mica-schist, striking
north-west, and dipping north-east, at a high angle. A beautiful yellow
poppy-like plant grew in clefts at 10,000 feet; it has flowered in
England, from seeds which I sent home, and bears the name of
_Cathcartia._[310]
[310] See “Botanical Magazine,” for 1852. The name was given in honour
of the memory of my friend, the late J. F. Cathcart, Esq., of the
Bengal Civil Service. This gentleman was devoted to the pursuit of
botany, and caused a magnificent series of drawings of Dorjiling
plants to be made by native artists during his residence there. This
collection is now deposited at Kew, through the liberality of his
family, and it is proposed to publish a selection from the plates, as
a tribute to his memory. Mr. Cathcart, after the expiration of his
Indian service, returned to Europe, and died at Lausanne on his way to
England.
We continued, on the following morning, in an easterly direction, up
the same narrow steep ridge, to a lofty eminence called Phieung-goong
(alt. 12,422 feet), from being covered with the Phieung, or small
bamboo. _Abies Webbiana_ begins here, and continues onwards, but, as on
Tonglo, Mainom, and the other outer wetter Sikkim ranges, there is
neither larch, _Pinus excelsa, Abies Smithiana,_ or _A. Brunoniana._
Hence we followed an oblique descent of 1,500 feet, to the bed of the
Rutto river, through thick woods of pines and _Rhododendron Hodgsoni,_
which latter, on our again ascending, was succeeded by the various
alpine kinds. We halted at Barfonchen (alt. 11,233 feet), a stone-but
in the silver-fir forest. Some yaks were grazing in the vicinity, and
from their herdsman we learnt that the Dewan was at Choombi, on the
road to Yakla; he had kept wholly out of the way during the summer,
directing every unfriendly action to be pursued towards myself and the
government by the Amlah, consisting of his brothers and relatives, whom
he left at Tumloong.
The night was brilliant and starlight: the minimum thermometer fell to
27°, a strong north-east wind blew down the valley, and there was a
thick hoar-frost, with which the black yaks were drolly powdered. The
broad leaves of _R. Hodgsoni_ were curled, from the expansion of the
frozen fluid in the layer of cells on the upper surface of the leaf,
which is exposed to the greatest cold of radiation. The sun restores
them a little, but as winter advances, they become irrecoverably cured,
and droop at the ends of the branches.
We left Barfonchen on the 7th November, and ascended the river, near
which we put up a woodcock. Emerging from the woods at Chumanako (alt.
12,590 feet), where there is another stone hut, the mountains become
bleak, bare, and stony, and the rocks are all moutonnéed by ancient
glaciers. At 13,000 feet the ground was covered with ice, and all the
streams were frozen. Crossing several rocky ledges, behind which were
small lakes, a gradual ascent led to the summit of the Chola pass, a
broad low depression, 14,925 feet above the sea, wholly bare of snow.
Campbell had preceded me, and I found him conversing with some
Tibetans, who told him that there was no road hence to Yakla, and that
we should not be permitted to go to Choombi. As the Chinese guard was
posted in the neighbourhood, he accompanied one of the Tibetans to see
the commandant, whilst I remained taking observations. The temperature
was 33°, with a violent, biting, dry east wind. The rocks were gneiss,
striking north-east, and horizontal, or dipping north-west. The scanty
vegetation consisted chiefly of grass and _Sibbaldia._
In about an hour Meepo and some of my people came up and asked for
Campbell, for whom the Tchebu Lama was waiting below: the Lama had
remained at Rungpo, endeavouring to put matters on a better footing
with the Amlah. Wishing to see the Tibet guard myself, I accompanied
the two remaining Tibetans down a steep valley with cliffs on either
hand, for several hundred feet, when I was overtaken by some Sikkim
sepoys in red jackets, who wanted to turn me back forcibly: I was at a
loss to understand their conduct, and appealed to the Tibetan sepoys,
who caused them to desist. About 1000 feet down I found Campbell, with
a body of about ninety Tibetans, a few of whom were armed with
matchlocks, and the rest with bows and arrows. They were commanded by a
Dingpun, a short swarthy man, with a flat-crowned cap with floss-silk
hanging all round, and a green glass button in front; he wore a loose
scarlet jacket, broadly edged with black velvet, and having great brass
buttons of the Indian naval uniform; his subaltern was similarly
dressed, but his buttons were those of the 44th Bengal Infantry. The
commandant having heard of our wish to go round by Choombi, told
Campbell that he had come purposely to inform him that there was no
road that way to Yakla; he was very polite, ordering his party to rise
and salute me when I arrived, and doing the same when we both left.
On our return we were accompanied by the Dingpun of the Tibetans and a
few of his people, and were soon met by more Sikkim sepoys, who said
they were sent from the Durbar, to bring Campbell back to transact
business; they behaved very rudely, and when still half a mile from the
Sikkim frontier, jostled him and feigned to draw their knives, and one
of them pointed a spear-headed bow to his breast. Campbell defended
himself with a stick, and remonstrated with them on their rudeness; and
I, who had nothing but a barometer in my hand, called up the Tibetans.
The Dingpun came instantly, and driving the Sikkim people forward,
escorted us to the frontier, where he took an inscribed board from the
chait, and showing us the great vermilion seal of the Emperor of China
(or more probably of the Lhassan authorities) on one side, and two
small brown ones of the Sikkim Rajah on the other; and giving us to
understand that here his jurisdiction ceased, he again saluted and left
us.
On descending, I was surprised to meet the Singtam Soubah, whom I had
not seen since leaving Tungu; he was seated on a rock, and I remarked
that he looked ashy pale and haggard, and that he salaamed to me only,
and not to Campbell; and that Tchebu Lama, who was with him, seemed
very uncomfortable. The Soubah wanted Campbell to stop for a
conference, which at such a time, and in such a wind, was impossible,
so he followed us to Chumanako, where we proposed to pass the night.
A great party of Sikkim Bhoteeas had assembled here, all strangers to
me: I certainly thought the concourse unusually large, and the previous
conduct to Campbell, strange, rude, and quite unintelligible,
especially before the Tibetans. But the Bhoteeas were always a queer,
and often insolent people,[311] whom I was long ago tired of trying to
understand, and they might have wanted to show off before their
neighbours; and such was the confidence with which my long travels
amongst them had inspired me, that the possibility of danger or
violence never entered my head.
[311] Captain Pemberton during his mission to Bhotan was repeatedly
treated with the utmost insolence by the officials in that country
(see Griffith’s Journal). My Sirdar, Nimbo, himself a native of
Bhotan, saw a good deal of the embassy when there, and told me many
particulars as to the treatment to which it had been subjected, and
the consequent low estimation in which both the ambassadors themselves
and the Government whom they represented were held in Bhotan.
We went into the hut, and were resting ourselves on a log at one end of
it, when, the evening being very cold, the people crowded in; on which
Campbell went out, saying, that we had better leave the hut to them,
and that he would see the tents pitched. He had scarcely left, when I
heard him calling loudly to me, “Hooker! Hooker! the savages are
murdering me!” I rushed to the door, and caught sight of him striking
out with his fists, and struggling violently; being tall and powerful,
he had already prostrated a few, but, a host of men bore him down, and
appeared to be trampling on him; at the same moment I was myself seized
by eight men, who forced me back into the hut, and down on the log,
where they held me in a sitting posture, pressing me against the wall;
here I spent a few moments of agony, as I heard my friend’s stifled
cries grow fainter and fainter. I struggled but little, and that only
at first, for at least five-and-twenty men crowded round and laid their
hands upon me, rendering any effort to move useless; they were,
however, neither angry nor violent, and signed to me to keep quiet. I
retained my presence of mind, and felt comfort in remembering that I
saw no knives used by the party who fell on Campbell, and that if their
intentions had been murderous, an arrow would have been the more sure
and less troublesome weapon. It was evident that the whole animus was
directed against Campbell, and though at first alarmed on my own
account, all the inferences which, with the rapidity of lightning my
mind involuntarily drew, were favourable.
After a few minutes, three persons came into the hut, and seated
themselves opposite to me: I only recognised two of them; namely, the
Singtam Soubah, pale, trembling like a leaf, and with great drops of
sweat trickling from his greasy brow; and the Tchebu Lama, stolid, but
evidently under restraint, and frightened. The former ordered the men
to leave hold of me, and to stand guard on either side, and, in a
violently agitated manner, he endeavoured to explain that Campbell was
a prisoner by the orders of the Rajah, who was dissatisfied with his
conduct as a government officer, during the past twelve years; and that
he was to be taken to the Durbar and confined till the supreme
government at Calcutta should confirm such articles as he should be
compelled to subscribe to; he also wanted to know from me how Campbell
would be likely to behave. I refused to answer any questions till I
should be informed why I was myself made prisoner; on which he went
away, leaving me still guarded. My own Sirdar then explained that
Campbell had been knocked down, tied hand and foot, and taken to his
tent, and that all his coolies were also bound, our captors claiming
them as Sikkimites, and subjects of the Rajah.
Shortly afterwards the three returned, the Soubah looking more spectral
than ever, and still more violently agitated, and I thought I perceived
that whatever were his plans, he had failed in them. He asked me what
view the Governor-General would take of this proceeding? and receiving
no answer, he went off with the Tchebu Lama, and left me with the third
individual. The latter looked steadily at me for some time, and then
asked if I did not know him. I said I did not, when he gave his name as
Dingpun Tinli, and I recognised in him one of the men whom the Dewan
had sent to conduct us to the top of Mainom the previous year (see vol.
i. p. 305). This opened my eyes a good deal, for he was known to be a
right-hand man of the Dewan’s, and had within a few months been
convicted of kidnapping two Brahmin girls from Nepal,[312] and had
vowed vengeance against Campbell for the duty he performed in bringing
him to punishment.
[312] This act as I have mentioned at v. i. p. 341, was not only a
violation of the British treaty, but an outrage on the religion of
Nepal. Jung Bahadoor demanded instant restitution, which Campbell
effected; thus incurring the Dingpun’s wrath, who lost, besides his
prize, a good deal of money which the escapade cost him.
I was soon asked to go to my tent, which I found pitched close by; they
refused me permission to see my fellow-prisoner, or to be near him, but
allowed me to hang up my instruments, and arrange my collections. My
guards were frequently changed during the night, Lepchas often taking a
turn; they repeatedly assured me that there was no complaint or
ill-feeling against me, that the better classes in Sikkim would be
greatly ashamed of the whole affair, that Tchebu Lama was equally a
prisoner, and that the grievances against Campbell were of a political
nature, but what they were they did not know.
The night was very cold (thermometer 26°), and two inches of snow fell.
I took as many of my party as I could into my tent, they having no
shelter fit for such an elevation (12,590 feet) at this season. Through
the connivance of some of the people, I managed to correspond with
Campbell, who afterwards gave me the following account of the treatment
he had received. He stated that on leaving the hut, he had been met by
Meepo, who told him the Soubah had ordered his being turned out. A
crowd of sepoys then fell on him and brought him to the ground, knocked
him on the head, trampled on him, and pressed his neck down to his
chest as he lay, as if endeavouring to break it. His feet were tied,
and his arms pinioned behind, the wrist of the right hand being bound
to the left arm above the elbow; the cords were then doubled, and he
was violently shaken. The Singtam Soubah directed all this, which was
performed chiefly by the Dingpun Tinli and Jongpun Sangabadoo.[313]
After this the Soubah came to me, as I have related; and returning, had
Campbell brought bound before him, and asked him, through Tchebu Lama,
if he would write from dictation. The Soubah was violent, excited, and
nervous; Tchebu Lama scared. Campbell answered, that if they continued
torturing him (which was done by twisting the cords round his wrists by
a bamboo-wrench), he might say or do anything, but that his government
would not confirm any acts thus extorted. The Soubah became still more
violent, shook his bow in Campbell’s face, and drawing his hand
significantly across his throat, repeated his questions, adding others,
enquiring why he had refused to receive the Lassoo Kajee as Vakeel,
etc. (see p. 2).
[313] This was the other man sent with us to Mainom, by the Dewan, in
the previous December.
The Soubah’s people, meanwhile, gradually slunk away, seeing which he
left Campbell, who was taken to his tent.
Early next morning Meepo was sent by the Soubah, to ask whether I would
go to Yakla pass, or return to Dorjiling, and to say that the Rajah’s
orders had been very strict that I was not to be molested, and that I
might proceed to whatever passes I wished to visit, whilst Campbell was
to be taken back to the Durbar, to transact business. I was obliged to
call upon the Soubah and Dingpun to explain their conduct of the
previous day, which they declared arose from no ill-feeling, but simply
from their fear of my interfering in Campbell’s behalf; they could not
see what reason I had to complain, so long as I was neither hurt nor
bound. I tried in vain to explain to them that they could not so play
fast and loose with a British subject, and insisted that if they really
considered me free, they should place me with Campbell, under whose
protection I considered myself, he being still the Governor-General’s
agent.
Much discussion followed this: Meepo urged me to go on to Yakla, and
leave these bad people; and the Soubah and Dingpun, who had exceeded
their orders in laying hands on me, both wished me away. My course was,
however, clear as to the propriety of keeping as close to Campbell as I
was allowed, so they reluctantly agreed to take me with him to the
Durbar.
Tchebu Lama came to me soon afterwards, looking as stolid as ever, but
with a gulping in his throat; he alone was glad I was going with them,
and implored me to counsel Campbell not to irritate the Amlah by a
refusal to accede to their dictates, in which case his life might be
the forfeit. As to himself, the opposite faction had now got the
mastery, there was nothing for it but to succumb, and his throat would
surely be cut. I endeavoured to comfort him with the assurance that
they dared not hurt Campbell, and that this conduct of a party of
ruffians, influenced by the Dewan and their own private pique, did not
represent his Rajah’s feelings and wishes, as he himself knew; but the
poor fellow was utterly unnerved, and shaking hands warmly, with his
eyes full of tears, he took his leave.
We were summoned by the Dingpun to march at 10 a.m.: I demanded an
interview with Campbell first, which was refused; but I felt myself
pretty safe, and insisting upon it, he was brought to me. He was sadly
bruised about the head, arms, and wrists, walked very lame, and had a
black eye to boot, but was looking stout and confident.
I may here mention that seizing the representative of a neighbouring
power and confining him till he shall have become amenable to terms, is
a common practice along the Tibet, Sikkim, and Bhotan frontiers. It had
been resorted to in 1847, by the Bhotanese, under the instructions of
the Paro Pilo, who waylaid the Sikkim Rajah when still in Tibet, on his
return from Jigatzi, and beleagured him for two months, endeavouring to
bring him to their terms about some border dispute; on this occasion
the Rajah applied to the British government for assistance, which was
refused; and he was ultimately rescued by a Tibetan force.
In the present case the Dewan issued orders that Campbell was to be
confined at Tumloong till he himself should arrive there; and the Rajah
was kept in ignorance of the affair. The Sepoys who met us on our
approach to Tumloong on the 3rd of November, were, I suspect,
originally sent for the purpose; and I think that the Amlah also had
followed us to Rungpo with the same object. Their own extreme timidity,
and the general good-feeling in the country towards Campbell prevented
its execution before, and, as a last resource, they selected the
Singtam Soubah and Dingpun Tinli for the office, as being personally
hostile to him. The Dewan meanwhile being in Tibet, and knowing that we
were about to visit the frontier, for which I had full permission and
escort, sent up the Tibetan guard, hoping to embroil them in the
affair; in this he failed, and it drew upon him the anger of the
Lhassan authorities.[314] The Soubah, in endeavouring to extort the new
treaty by force, and the Dingpun, who had his own revenge to gratify,
exceeded their instructions in using violence towards Campbell, whom
the Dewan ordered should be simply taken and confined; they were
consequently disgraced, long before we were released, and the failure
of the stratagem thrown upon their shoulders.
[314] In the following summer (1850), when the Rajah, Dewan, and
Soubah, repaired to Choombi, the Lhassan authorities sent a
Commissioner to inquire into the affair, understanding that the Dewan
had attempted to embroil the Tibetans in it. The commissioner asked
the Rajah why he had committed such an outrage on the representative
of the British government, under whose protection he was; thus losing
his territory, and bringing English troops so near the Tibet frontier.
The Rajah answered that he never did anything of the kind; that he was
old and infirm, and unable to transact all his affairs; that the
mischief had arisen out of the acts and ignorance of others, and
finally begged the Commissioner to investigate the whole affair, and
satisfy himself about it. During the inquiry that followed, the Dewan
threw all the blame on the Tibetans, who, he said were alone
implicated: this assertion was easily disproved, and on the conclusion
of the inquiry the Commissioner railed vehemently at the Dewan,
saying:—“You tried to put this business on the people of my country;
it is an abominable lie. You did it yourselves, and no one else. The
Company is a great monarchy; you insulted it, and it has taken its
revenge. If you, or any other Tibetan, ever again cause a rupture with
the English, you shall be taken with ropes round your necks to Pekin,
there to undergo the just punishment of your offence under the
sentence of the mighty Emperor.”
During the march down to Laghep, Campbell was treated by the Dingpun’s
men with great rudeness: I kept as near as I was allowed, quietly
gathering rhododendron seeds by the way. At the camping-ground we were
again separated, at which I remonstrated with the Dingpun, also
complaining of his people’s insolent behaviour towards their prisoner,
which he promised should be discontinued.
The next day we reached Rungpo, where we halted for further
instructions: our tents were placed apart, but we managed to correspond
by stealth. On the 10th of November we were conducted to Tumloong: a
pony was brought for me, but I refused it, on seeing that Campbell was
treated with great indignity, and obliged to follow at the tail of the
mule ridden by the Dingpun, who thus marched him in triumph up to the
village.
I was taken to a house at Phadong, and my fellow traveller was confined
in another at some distance to the eastward, a stone’s throw below the
Rajah’s; and thrust into a little cage-like room. I was soon visited by
an old Lama, who assured me that we were both perfectly safe, but that
there were many grievances against Campbell. The Soubah arrived shortly
after, bringing me compliments, nominally in the Rajah’s name, and a
substantial present, consisting of a large cow, sheep, fowls, a brick
of tea, bags of rice, flour, butter, eggs, and a profusion of
vegetables. I refused to take them on the friendly terms on which they
were brought, and only accepted them as provisions during my detention.
I remonstrated again about our separation, and warned the Soubah of the
inevitable consequence of this outrage upon the representative of a
friendly power, travelling under the authority of his own government,
unarmed and without escort: he was greatly perplexed, and assured me
that Campbell’s detention was only temporary, because he had not given
satisfaction to the Rajah, and as the latter could not get answers to
his demands from Calcutta in less than a month, it was determined to
keep him till then; but to send me to Dorjiling. He returned in the
evening to tell me that Campbell’s men (with the exception only of the
Ghorkas[315]) had been seized, because they were runaway slaves from
Sikkim; but that I need not alarm myself, for mine should be untouched.
[315] These people stood in far greater fear of the Nepalese than of
the English, and the reason is obvious: the former allow no infraction
of their rights to pass unnoticed, whereas we had permitted every
article of our treaty to be contravened.
The hut being small, and intolerably dirty, I pitched my tent close by,
and lived in it for seven days: I was not guarded, but so closely
watched, that I could not go out for the most trifling purpose, except
under surveillance. They were evidently afraid of my escaping; I was
however treated with civility, but forbidden to communicate either with
Campbell or with Dorjiling.
The Soubah frequently visited me, always protesting I was no prisoner,
that Campbell’s seizure was a very trifling affair, and the violence
employed all a mistake. He always brought presents, and tried to sound
me about the government at Calcutta. On the 12th he paid his last
visit, looking wofully dejected, being out of favour at court, and
dismissed to his home: he referred me to Meepo for all future
communications to the Rajah, and bade me a most cordial farewell, which
I regretted being unable to return with any show of kind feeling. Poor
fellow! he had staked his last, and lost it, when he undertook to seize
the agent of the most powerful government in the east, and to reduce
him to the condition of a tool of the Dewan. Despite the many
obstructions he had placed in my way, we had not fallen out since July;
we had been constant companions, and though at issue, never at enmity.
I had impeached him, and my grievances had been forwarded to the Rajah
with a demand for his punishment, but he never seemed to owe me a
grudge for that, knowing the Rajah’s impotence as compared with the
power of the Dewan whom he served; and, in common with all his party,
presuming on the unwillingness of the British government to punish.
On the 13th of November I was hurriedly summoned by Meepo to the
Phadong temple, where I was interrogated by the Amlah, as the Rajah’s
councillors (in this instance the Dewan’s adherents) are called. I
found four China mats placed on a stone bench, on one of which I was
requested to seat myself, the others being occupied by the Dewan’s
elder brother, a younger brother of the Gangtok Kajee (a man of some
wealth), and an old Lama: the conference took place in the open air and
amongst an immense crowd of Lamas, men, women, and children.
I took the initiative (as I made a point of doing on all such
occasions) and demanded proper interpreters, which were refused; and
the Amlah began a rambling interrogatory in Tibetan, through my Lepcha
Sirdar Pakshok, who spoke very little Tibetan or Hindostanee, and my
half-caste servant, who spoke as little English. The Dewan’s brother
was very nervously counting his beads, and never raised his eyes while
I kept mine steadily upon him.
He suggested most of the queries, every one of which took several
minutes, as he was constantly interrupted by the Kajee, who was very
fat and stupid: the Lama scarcely spoke, and the bystanders never. My
connection with the Indian government was first enquired into; next
they came to political matters, upon which I declined entering; but I
gathered that their object was to oblige Campbell to accept the Lassoo
Kajee as Vakeel, to alter the slavery laws, to draw a new boundary line
with Nepal, to institute direct communication between themselves and
the Governor-General,[316] and to engage that there should be no trade
or communication between Sikkim and India, except through the Dewan:
all of these subjects related to the terms of the original treaty
between the Rajah and the Indian government. They told me they had sent
these proposals to the government through Dorjiling,[317] but had
received no acknowledgment from the latter place, and they wanted to
know the probable result at Calcutta. As the only answer I could give
might irritate them, I again declined giving any. Lastly, they assured
me that no blame was imputed to myself, that on the contrary I had been
travelling under the Rajah’s protection, who rejoiced in my success,
that I might have visited Yakla pass as I had intended doing, but that
preferring to accompany my friend, they had allowed me to do so, and
that I might now either join him, or continue to live in my tent: of
course I joyfully accepted the former proposal. After being refused
permission to send a letter to Dorjiling, except I would write in a
character which they could read, I asked if they had anything more to
say, and being answered in the negative, I was taken by Meepo to
Campbell, heartily glad to end a parley which had lasted for an hour
and a half.
[316] They were prompted to demand this by an unfortunate oversight
that occurred at Calcutta some years before. Vakeels from the Sikkim
Durbar repaired to that capital, and though unaccredited by the
Governor-General’s agent at Dorjiling, were (in the absence of the
Governor-General) received by the president of the council in open
Durbar. The effect was of course to reduce the Governor-General’s
agent at Dorjiling to a cipher.
[317] These letters, which concluded with a line stating that Campbell
was detained at Tumloong till favourable answers should be received,
had arrived at Dorjiling; but being written in Tibetan, and containing
matters into which no one but Campbell could enter, they were laid on
one side till his return. The interpreter did not read the last line,
which stated that Dr. Campbell was _detained_ till answers were
received, and the fact of our capture and imprisonment therefore
remained unknown for several weeks.
I found my friend in good health and spirits, strictly guarded in a
small thatched hut, of bamboo wattle and clay: the situation was
pretty, and commanded a view of the Ryott valley and the snowy
mountains; there were some picturesque chaits hard by, and a
blacksmith’s forge. Our walks were confined to a few steps in front of
the hut, and included a puddle and a spring of water. We had one black
room with a small window, and a fire in the middle on a stone; we slept
in the narrow apartment behind it, which was the cage in which Campbell
had been at first confined, and which exactly admitted us both, lying
on the floor. Two or three Sepoys occupied an adjoining room, and had a
peep-hole through the partition-wall.
My gratification at our being placed together was damped by the seizure
of all my faithful attendants except my own servant, and one who was a
Nepalese: the rest were bound, and placed in the stocks and close
confinement, charged with being Sikkim people who had no authority to
take service in Dorjiling. On the contrary they were all registered as
British subjects, and had during my travels been recognised as such by
the Rajah and all his authorities. Three times the Soubah and others
had voluntarily assured me that my person and people were inviolate;
nor was there any cause for this outrage but the fear of their escaping
with news to Dorjiling, and possibly a feeling of irritation amongst
the authorities at the failure of their schemes. Meanwhile we were not
allowed to write, and we heard that the bag of letters which we had
sent before our capture had been seized and burnt. Campbell greatly
feared that they would threaten Dorjiling with a night attack,[318] as
we heard that the Lassoo Kajee was stationed at Namtchi with a party
for that purpose, and all communication cut off, except through him.
[318] Threats of sacking Dorjiling had on several previous occasions
been made by the Dewan, to the too great alarm of the inhabitants, who
were ignorant of the timid and pacific disposition of the Lepchas, and
of the fact that there are not fifty muskets in the country, nor
twenty men able to use them. On this occasion the threats were coupled
with the report that we were murdered, and that the Rajah had asked
for 50,000 Tibetan soldiers, who were being marched twenty-five days’
journey over passes 16,000 feet high, and deep in snow, and were
coming to drive the English out of Sikkim! I need hardly observe that
the Tibetans (who have repeatedly refused to interfere on this side
the snows) had no hand in the matter, or that, supposing they could
collect that number of men in all Tibet, it would be impossible to
feed them for a week, there or in Sikkim. Such reports unfortunately
spread a panic in Dorjiling: the guards were called in from all the
outposts, and the ladies huddled into one house, whilst the males
stood on the defensive; to the great amusement of the Amlah at
Tumloong, whose insolence to us increased proportionally.
[Illustration: Horns of the Showa stag (Cervus Wallichii), a native of
Choombi in Tibet.]