A series of misfortunes--Tibetan atrocities on British
subjects--Tibetan exactions--Revolting cruelty to one of her
Majesty's subjects--Assault on a British officer--A smart British
Envoy.
MY arrival at Garbyang was watched by hundreds of men, women, and
children, all squatting on the edge of the flat mud roofs of their
habitations, while a few dozen people followed me respectfully to my
camping ground beyond the village. A large tent had been put up for me by
Pundit Gobaria's brother, who had been informed of my coming by Anti Ram
Sah, my banker at Almora. Mr. G., Deputy Commissioner, arrived later.
I was very anxious to make immediate arrangements to enter Tibet, but all
my efforts to obtain reliable followers were of little avail.
I heard to my regret, a day or two later, that the plan of my journey,
which with so much trouble and care I had kept secret, had been divulged
to the Tibetan authorities. Misfortunes never come singly! Against my
will I had been advised to pay a certain sum at Almora, in exchange for
which I received a letter of credit on Pundit Gobaria, a rich trader of
Garbyang, who was to pay me the amount in silver. Unluckily, Gobaria was
still absent in Nepal, and no one else could cash a cheque for the amount
I wanted. This was tiresome--all the more so as I had counted on the
money. I immediately sent a runner to Almora to have the sum in silver
sent at once. This involved much publicity and considerable risk.
Also delay was inevitable. All the passes were closed and fresh snow was
falling daily. It was just possible with much difficulty for a man to
cross the Lippu Pass, but no baggage could be taken through. I made up my
mind to remain a few days in Garbyang, and took this opportunity to have
a large Tibetan tent manufactured to shelter my future followers--if
ever I could find any--and it might help me, I calculated, to become
friendly with the natives, among whom I hoped to find some willing
followers.
[Illustration: THE GATES OF GARBYANG]
Doctor H. Wilson, of the Methodist Evangelical Mission, went to much
trouble in trying to get together men for me, but though his influence
was and is considerable in Bias and Chaudas, his efforts were not crowned
with success. The Shokas know well how terribly cruel the Tibetans are.
They have suffered at their hands more than once, and even of recent
years the Government of India has had reported by its own officers cases
of horrible tortures inflicted by the Tibetan authorities on British
subjects captured by them on our side of the frontier. Some of the
atrocities committed by the Lamas on British subjects are revolting, and
it is a matter of great regret and indignation to the Englishmen who
visit these regions to think that the weakness of our officials in Kumaon
has allowed and is allowing such proceedings still to go on. So incapable
are they, in fact, that the Jong Pen of Taklakot in Tibet sends over,
"with the sanction of the Government of India," his yearly emissaries to
collect Land Revenue[8] from British subjects living on British soil. The
Shokas have to pay this tribute, and do so out of fear--in addition to
other taxes and trade dues iniquitously exacted by the Tibetans.
On the slightest pretext the Tibetans arrest, torture mercilessly, fine,
and confiscate property of, British subjects on British territory.
At the time of my visit there could be seen, in Garbyang and other
villages, British subjects (Shokas) who had been mutilated by the Tibetan
authorities.
Even Dr. H. Wilson, who had erected a dispensary at Gungi (one march
beyond Garbyang), was lately threatened with confiscation--and worse
perhaps--if he did not immediately comply with the exactions of the
Tibetans. He declined to do so and reported the matter to the Government,
relying on a good rifle in the house and his many servants. His
determination not to be intimidated seems to have given him temporary
security, for the Tibetans are as cowardly, when they think themselves
matched, as they are cruel.
Let me quote one example of cruelty which occurred as late as 1896. A
Shoka trader, undeniably a British subject, had gone over the border, as
is customary with them during the summer, to dispose of his merchandise
on the Tibetan market. He and another Shoka, also a British subject, had
a quarrel. Aware that the first Shoka was wealthy, the Tibetan
authorities took this pretext to arrest him and impose upon him an
exorbitant fine, besides the additional punishment of two hundred lashes
to be administered to him by order of the Jong Pen. The Shoka
remonstrated on the plea that he had done no harm, and that being a
British subject they had no right to so punish him. The Jong Pen saw his
orders executed, and further commanded his men to cut off the wretched
prisoner's hands. He was made over to two soldiers entrusted with the
carrying out of the sentence. They led him away to the place of
punishment. The Shoka was of a powerful build and possessed courage.
Though half dead and covered with wounds, he overcame his guardians and
escaped. The alarm was instantly given and a large party of horsemen sent
to capture him.
They caught him up, and when at close range fired on him and wounded him
in the knee, smashing the kneecap. He was surrounded, pounced upon,
beaten mercilessly, and last but not least, all his fingers were one by
one crushed into pulp between two heavy stones. In this condition he was
dragged before the Lamas, only to be decapitated! Mr. Sturt, an able and
just officer, who was then Deputy Commissioner at Almora, became
acquainted with these facts, and, having fully ascertained their
accuracy, reported them to the Government, strongly advising immediate
action against the Tibetans for this and other cruelties that were
constantly taking place on our frontier. Though it was undeniably proved
that the victim was a British subject, the Government of India took no
steps in the matter.
The same year, 1896, Lieutenant Gaussen, who on a shooting trip tried to
enter Tibet by the Lippu Pass, was surrounded by Tibetan soldiers, and he
and his servants were seriously ill-treated. The British officer received
a nasty wound on his forehead, and one of his servants, who behaved
heroically, was so cruelly handled that to-day, two years later, I hear
he is still an invalid.
[Illustration: MATAN SING CHAPRASSI]
[Illustration: NARENGHIRI CHAPRASSI]
[Illustration: GARBYANG]
Mr. J. Larkin, Deputy Collector at Almora, was then despatched to the
frontier. No better man could have been sent. Firm, just, and
painstaking, he became popular and much respected among the Shokas. He
listened to their troubles and sufferings; he administered justice
wherever possible. He refused audience to no one, and during his flying
visit became well acquainted with the country, the people, and all that
went on. The poor Shokas felt much relieved, thinking that at last the
Tibetan abuses would be put an end to. They were not mistaken, at least
for a time. The Jong Pen of Taklakot was called upon to answer for his
many misdeeds. He refused an interview. Mr. Larkin sent word across the
border that he would have no trifling and that he must come, upon which
the Jong Pen, with his officers and Lamas, crossed the snowy Lippu Pass.
Trembling with fear and bending low to the ground, the Tibetans, with
abject servility, entered the tent of our British envoy. The account of
the interview, which I received in full from a Shoka gentleman who was
present as interpreter, is amusing and curious, showing the mutability
and hypocrisy of the Tibetans. In the long run, and being well acquainted
with the cowardice of his visitors, Mr. Larkin not only obtained redress
on every point but gave the Jong Pen and his officers a severe harangue.
The result of the interview was that the collection of the Land Revenue
should be put a stop to, and that Tibetan law should no more be
administered on our side of the frontier.
Mr. Larkin's visit to Bhot was cut short by urgent orders to return
immediately to Almora.
The following year (the year of my visit, 1897), Mr. G., Deputy
Commissioner, undid much that the previous officer had accomplished. The
Jong Pen, when summoned, declined to come, and sent over deputies in his
place. The upshot of it is, that Land Revenue is again paid by the Shokas
to the Tibetan tax-collectors through the Peshkar.
I have mentioned these facts as representative of many, and to show how
it came that the natives, who had never had any protection from our
Government, were disinclined, notwithstanding the temptations I offered
them, to brave the dangers of Tibet. I, who later on suffered so much
through being betrayed by Shokas, am the first to forgive and not to
blame them. Though nominally our subjects, their actual rulers are the
Tibetans, and we do nothing to protect them against the exactions and
tortures of the intruders. Why then should we expect them to be faithful
to us? The Shokas are not treacherous by nature, but they are compelled
to be deceitful to protect their lives and their homes. Properly treated,
these honest, gentle, good-natured mountaineers would assuredly become
loyal and trustworthy subjects of her Majesty.
[8] The sums are now collected by the Political Peskhar and handed over
in Garbyang to the Tibetans.