THE WAR IN BOOTAN
During 1865 another border war occurred in India; not as usual on the
north-west frontier, but with Bootan, an almost unknown country away
in the far East, and north of the great river Brahmapootra. The causes
were of the usual character--incessant depredations in our districts
of Assam and Cooch-Behar. The territory of Bootan, with a length of
about 250 miles, lies amidst the southern slopes of the highest ranges
of the Himalayas, the eternal snows forming its frontier towards
Thibet. It is, in fact, a country of stupendous mountains, intersected
by narrow, precipitous valleys and rapid streams. The rainfall is
excessive;[69] and all along its southern border, in the low grounds
at the foot of the mountains, are dense forests and marshy jungles,
almost impenetrable and choked with vegetation. The whole of the
lower district is very unhealthy, and is the home of wild elephants,
rhinoceros, and tigers--natural zoological gardens, in short, free
of charge. The people of Bootan have little or no organised military
force, and such fighting men as exist are only armed with knives, bows
and arrows, and a few matchlocks; so that in a military sense they
are not at all formidable. The inaccessible nature of the country is
its best, and indeed almost its only, defence. The people are Chinese
in type, and nominally Buddhists in religion; but, though brave and
hardy, are almost entirely uncivilised, and the ruling authorities
are weak and treacherous. The government of Bootan appears to be of a
duplicate character; one rajah being a kind of spiritual head of the
State without power, whilst another has all the power but apparently
no head. The result, as might be expected, is frequent anarchy, whilst
the subordinate rulers along the frontier district tyrannise over
the people and plunder their neighbours at discretion. For a century
past, indeed, the people, instigated by their chiefs, had incessantly
committed depredations in our territories in the plains: carrying off
men and women as slaves, and also elephants, buffaloes, and property
of all kinds. Remonstrances had been made time out of mind, and
missions sent to try and bring them to reason; but all our efforts
were met by incivility, almost amounting to insult, and by evasion.
The rulers of the country, no doubt, relied in a great measure on its
inaccessibility; and, ignorant more or less of our power, were defiant
and treacherous accordingly.
In 1864 the Government of India decided on sending a mission, under the
Honourable Ashley Eden, to Poonaka, the capital. His instructions were
to demand the release of all captives, and to endeavour to arrange for
peaceful commercial intercourse in the future. Leaving Darjeeling in
January, he crossed the river Teesta, the western boundary of Bootan;
but throughout his long and difficult journey to the interior, although
he succeeded in reaching Poonaka, and although the poor villagers
appeared well-disposed, he was met with evasion and constant delay from
those in authority; and, when he arrived at length at the capital, the
conduct of the Government was so threatening and grossly insulting
that he only got away with difficulty, having under compulsion signed
an obnoxious treaty, which, on his return to India in April, was
immediately disavowed and repudiated.
It was quite evident that, unless we were content to submit to violence
and insult, the time had fully arrived for a recourse to arms. An
expedition was arranged accordingly, and our troops entered Bootan from
the plains in three separate, widely detached columns, of no great
strength.[70] The one in the East marched a few miles up a gorge to
Dewanghiri, and took it; but subsequently, on being attacked, abandoned
the position, and fell back with the loss of two guns. The temporary
defeat was, however, speedily avenged by a force under the command
of the late General Tombs, of which the 55th Regiment under Colonel
Hume[71] formed part, and the place was re-taken and held. The centre
column also advanced into the hills and established itself at Buxa;
whilst the third assaulted and captured Dalimkote, an old fort on a
mountain ridge in the western ranges, and about 5,000 feet above the
sea.
Dalimkote, a few miles from the plains, was only formidable owing to
its almost inaccessible position; and our troops engaged in its capture
had to climb the steep sides of the mountain, by tortuous and narrow
paths, and through thick jungles. In fact, the whole neighbourhood was
a mass of dense forest and luxurious undergrowth. The officers and men
of a battery of artillery had managed with difficulty to carry a small
mortar up the hill-side with a view to a short bombardment, preceding
assault. Hardly had it been brought into action near the entrance gate
than by some unfortunate accident a barrel of gunpowder exploded,
killing Captain Griffin, R.A.,[72] both his lieutenants, and six
gunners, besides wounding several others. The small garrison, however,
did not wait for an assault, but bolted, and the fort fell into our
hands.
Our columns had not penetrated for any great distance into the country,
still the occupation of three important passes not only prevented the
Booteas from plundering, but also put a stop to their commerce, which,
though comparatively trifling in amount, proved a great blow to these
isolated mountaineers; so that, after many attempts at evasion, towards
the end of 1865 they were prepared to come to terms. Being desirous
of visiting a part of the country so little known, and of so much
interest at the time, I left Calcutta in January, made a rapid journey
of about 400 miles due north to Darjeeling, and from that hill station
started on an expedition for a fortnight along the Bootan frontier,
returning by a voyage down the river Brahmapootra. The first part
of the journey from Calcutta to the Ganges was by rail; and having
crossed the river to Caragola, I was then carried by coolies in a
palanquin, a sort of elongated bandbox, for 120 miles to the foot of
the mountains, not meeting a single Englishman during the journey.
The country was perfectly flat, and at night a native walked in front
with a lighted torch, in order, so it was stated, to scare away the
tigers. The coolies as they carried me along sometimes broke out into a
low monotonous chant, occasionally varied by a dismal moaning chorus.
I tried to ascertain the burden of their song, and found that it was
myself, and that the coolie refrain was somewhat as follows: 'This
is a heavy man. Oh! what a fat man,' and so on. Colonel Bourchier,
R.A.,[73] joined me in the 'Terai,' a narrow belt of marshy forest
lying at the foot of the slopes; and then, on a couple of mules, we
ascended the Himalayas to Darjeeling. Not being encumbered with any
baggage to speak of, our arrangements for the expedition were simple.
Leaving Darjeeling, we rode due East for about twenty miles, and by a
gradual descent reached the banks of the Teesta, a rapid river about
100 yards wide, remaining for the night in the hut of a young officer
who, with a picket of native troops, was in charge of this corner of
the frontier. The scenery was charming, and we met occasional parties
of Booteas carrying fruit to the Darjeeling market.
[Illustration: SKETCH MAP TO ILLUSTRATE TOUR IN BOOTAN, JANUARY 1866]
The passage across the Teesta was by means of a cane bridge; and,
considering that the inhabitants are ignorant and uncivilised, was a
wonderful specimen of ingenuity and skill. These bridges, of which
there are several in different parts of the country, are on the
suspension principle, and made entirely of bamboo canes fastened
together. There is not a nail or a single piece of rope used in the
whole construction. They swing about in an uneasy way in passing
over them; and as the canes soon become rotten, the whole structure
gradually perishes and falls into the river, and has to be renewed.
Indeed, as I understood, they require re-building annually. Our
mules were pushed into the rapid torrent and pulled across by a long
line, also made of flexible bamboos and devoid of string. Altogether
it was a curious experience; and we felt much sympathy for the young
officer who had to pass months on guard in this secluded valley,
without a fellow-countryman to speak to. After crossing the Teesta,
we entered Bootan territory, began a long ascent, and at the top of a
mountain found another officer with a picket in a solitary stockaded
fort. The scenery all round was magnificent. Dense forests filled
the deep valleys, and far away to the north stood the snowy crest of
Kinchinjunga, 28,000 feet high, standing out clear in the horizon.
Proceeding along over the mountains, we passed an old monastery at
Tasigimpoo, and in the evening reached a deserted Bootea stockade,
where we remained for the night. The country seemed to be thinly
inhabited, but the few people we met were good-natured and friendly. I
had been warned not to sleep in the jungle, as we should be devoured
by leeches; so, what with possible tigers on the one hand, and hungry
leeches on the other, caution was necessary. However, I escaped, except
that on one occasion a superfluous leech--not a tiger--attacked my leg
during the night. Otherwise all went well, and the following evening,
passing through glades of oak, we came in sight of the picturesque
old walled fort of Dalimkote, overlooking the plains of Bengal, and
surrounded with feathery woods of bamboo.
Although the war was supposed to be virtually at an end, I had been
informed by Sir John Lawrence before leaving Calcutta that their chief
warrior Tongso Penlow was still at large and defiant, and sure enough
on arrival at Dalimkote it was found impossible to advance further
into the country. Consequently, in order to reach the next column at
Buxa we were compelled to return to the plains, and after a ride of
fifty miles reached Julpigoree on the Teesta. During the night horses
were placed along the road eastwards to Cooch Behar; and, sending on
our baggage with a native servant on an elephant, we started early
the following morning, galloped for sixty miles over the plains, and,
crossing several rivers on rafts, reached Cooch Behar in the afternoon.
There was no time to spare, so after a few hours' rest we turned our
faces again northwards, and after another long ride reached the centre
column at Buxa. The hostility of Tongso Penlow had thus compelled us
to make a detour of about 150 miles; but leaving Buxa, pushing on
over the mountains, and then down to the deep secluded valley of the
Chin-chu, we at length reached our most advanced post at the small
village of Tapsee, and were rewarded by a view of the magnificent
scenery of a country hitherto unknown and unexplored. Our pioneers had
for some months past been engaged in constructing a road towards the
interior, cutting through forests, blowing up rocks, and constructing
temporary bridges over precipitous gorges and mountain torrents. We
were, in short, advancing steadily through a remarkable and very
difficult country towards Poonaka; and the perception of this fact no
doubt compelled the Bootan Government at length to sue for peace, and
caused even the warlike Tongso to cease his opposition. Hurrying back
by forced marches, I took leave of Colonel Bourchier at Cooch Behar;
and then finally, after a long solitary gallop, reached Dobree, on the
Brahmapootra, just in time to get on board a steamer on its return
voyage. Although several hundred miles from its mouth, the river at
Dobree resembled a great inland sea. Its navigation, owing to numerous
sandbanks, is somewhat dangerous, so that we could only move during
daylight, passing numerous picturesque native boats and occasional
alligators, lying like logs of grey wood along its banks. After a
few days we arrived at Kooshtea, near the junction of the Ganges and
Brahmapootra, and then reached Calcutta by railway. The expedition was
hurriedly carried out; still it was most interesting in its variety,
and in giving a glimpse, at all events, of a country so peculiar and
hitherto so little known.
[Illustration: WAR IN BOOTAN, 1866. OUTPOST IN VALLEY OF THE CHINCHU]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 69: The rainfall in that part of India is said to exceed 600
inches a year.]
[Footnote 70: See map of Bootan.]
[Footnote 71: Now General Sir Henry Hume, K.C.B.]
[Footnote 72: Captain Griffin had been in command of a battery, and had
done excellent service during the previous frontier war of Umbeylah.
The names of the two lieutenants were E. Walker and E.A. Anderson.]
[Footnote 73: Now General Sir George Bourchier, K.C.B.]