Glance at the Country of the Ortous--Cultivated Lands--Sterile, sandy
steppes of the Ortous--Form of the Tartar-Mongol
Government--Nobility--Slavery--A small Lamasery--Election and
Enthronization of a Living Buddha--Discipline of the Lamaseries--Lama
Studies--Violent Storm--Shelter in some Artificial Grottoes--Tartar
concealed in a Cavern--Tartaro-Chinese Anecdote--Ceremonies of Tartar
Marriages--Polygamy--Divorce--Character and Costume of the Mongol Women.
The sun was already very high when we rose. On leaving the tent we
looked round us, in order to get acquainted with this new country, which
the darkness of the preceding evening had not allowed us to examine. It
appeared to us dismal and arid; but we were happy, on any terms, to lose
sight of bogs and swamps. We had left behind us the Yellow River, with
its overflowing waters, and entered the sandy steppes of Ortous.
The land of Ortous is divided into seven banners; it extends a hundred
leagues from east to west, and seventy from south to north. It is
surrounded by the Yellow River on the west, east, and north, and by the
Great Wall on the south. This country has been subjected, at all
periods, to the influence of the political revolutions, by which the
Chinese empire has been agitated. The Chinese and Tartar conquerors have
taken possession of it in turns, and made it the theatre of sanguinary
wars. During the tenth, eleventh, and twelfth centuries, it remained
under the sceptre of the kings of Hia, who derived their origin from the
Thou-Pa Tartars of the land of Si-Fan. The capital of their kingdom,
called Hia-Tcheou, was situated at the foot of the Alecha mountains
between the Hoang-Ho and the Great Wall. At present, this town is called
Ning-Hia, and belongs to the province Kan-Sou. In 1227 the kingdom of
Hia, and afterwards Ortous, were involved in the common desolation by the
victories of Tchingghis-Khan, founder of the Tartar dynasty of the Youen.
After the expulsion of the Tartar Mongols by the Ming, the Ortous fell
under the power of the Khan of the Tchakar. When the latter submitted to
the Mantchou conquerors in 1635, the Ortous followed his example, and
were reunited to the empire as a tributary people.
The Emperor Khang-Hi resided for some time among the Ortous in 1696, when
he was on his expedition against the Eleuts; and this is what he wrote of
this people in a letter to the prince, his son, who had remained at
Peking:--"Till now, I never had at all an accurate idea respecting the
Ortous: they are a very civilised nation, and have lost nothing of the
old manners of the true Mongols. All their princes live in perfect union
among themselves, and do not know the difference between _mine_ and
_thine_. No one ever heard of a thief amongst them, although they take
not the slightest precaution for guarding their camels and horses. If by
chance one of these animals goes astray, it is taken care of by him who
finds it, till he has discovered its owner, to whom he restores it,
without the least payment. The Ortous are extremely skilful in breeding
cattle; most of their horses are tame and tractable. The Tchakars, north
of the Ortous, enjoy the reputation of training them with more care and
success; nevertheless, I believe that the Ortous excel them in this
point. Notwithstanding these advantages, they are not at all so rich as
the other Mongols."
This quotation, which we take from the Abbe Grosier, is in every point
conformable with what we ourselves were able to observe among the Ortous;
so that, since the time of the Emperor Khang-Hi, this people has not at
all changed in its manners.
The aspect of the country through which we travelled on the first day of
our journey seemed affected by the vicinity of the Chinese fishermen, who
reside on the banks of the Yellow River. We saw here and there
cultivated grounds, but there can be nothing more wretched and bare
looking than this cultivation, except, perhaps, the cultivator himself.
These miserable agriculturists are a mixed people, half Chinese, half
Tartars, but possessing neither the industry of the former, nor the frank
and simple manners of the latter. They live in houses, or rather in
dirty sheds built of branches intertwined, rudely covered with mud and
cow's excrement. Thirst obliging us to enter one of these habitations to
ask for some water, we were able to convince ourselves that the interior
did not in any way contradict the misery which appeared outside. Men and
animals live together higgledy-piggledy in these abodes, which are far
inferior to those of the Mongols, where, at least, the air is not
infected by the presence of cattle and sheep.
The sandy soil, which is cultivated by these poor people, beyond a little
buck-wheat and millet, produces only hemp, but this is very large and
abundant. Though, when we were there, the crop was already gathered in,
we could nevertheless judge of the beauty of its stem from what remained
in the fields. The farmers of Ortous do not pull up the hemp when it is
ripe, as is done in China; they cut it off above the ground, so high as
to leave a stump of about an inch in diameter. It was accordingly great
toil for our camels to traverse those vast fields of hemp; the stumps,
occurring at every step beneath their large feet, compelled them to
execute all sorts of fantastic movements, which would have excited our
mirth, had we not been fearful of seeing them wounded. However, that
which so impeded our camels proved of great use to ourselves. When we
had set up our tent, these stumps furnished us with a ready and abundant
fuel.
We soon entered once more the Land of Grass, if, indeed, one can give
this name to such a barren, arid country as that of the Ortous. Wherever
you turn you find only a soil, bare, and without verdure; rocky ravines,
marly hills, and plains covered with a fine, moving sand, blown by the
impetuous winds in every direction; for pasture, you will only find a few
thorny bushes and poor fern, dusty and fetid. At intervals only, this
horrible soil produces some thin, sharp grass, so firm in the earth, that
the animals can only get it up by digging the sand with their muzzles.
The numerous swamps, which had been so heavy a desolation to us on the
borders of the Yellow River, became matter of regret in the country of
the Ortous, so very rare here is water; not a single rivulet is there,
not a spring, where the traveller can quench his thirst; at distances
only are there ponds and cisterns, filled with a fetid, muddy water.
The Lamas, with whom we had been in communication at Blue Town, had
warned us of all the miseries we should have to endure in the country of
the Ortous, especially on account of the scarcity of water. By their
advice we had bought two wooden pails, which proved indeed of the
greatest service to us. Whenever we were lucky enough to find on our way
pools or wells dug by the Tartars, we filled our pails, without
considering too nicely the quality of the water, which we used with the
greatest economy, as if it had been some rare and precious beverage. In
spite of all these precautions, it happened more than once that we were
obliged to pass whole days without getting a single drop of water
wherewith to moisten our lips. But our personal privations were trifling
compared with the pain we felt at seeing our animals wanting water almost
every day in a country where they had nothing to eat beyond a few plants
nearly dried up, and, as it were, calcined by nitre, and where they
accordingly fell away visibly. After some days' travelling, the horse
assumed a truly wretched appearance; it bent down its head, and seemed,
at every step, as though it would sink down with weakness; the camels
painfully balanced themselves on their long legs, and their emaciated
humps hung over their backs like empty bags.
[Picture: The Steppes of Ortous]
The steppes of the Ortous, though so destitute of water and good pasture,
have not been quite abandoned by wild animals. You often find there grey
squirrels, agile yellow goats, and beautifully plumaged pheasants. Hares
are in abundance, and are so far from shy, that they did not even take
the trouble to move at our approach; they merely rose on their hind legs,
pricked up their ears, and looked at us as we passed with the utmost
indifference. The fact is, these animals feel perfectly secure, for,
with the exception of a few Mongols who follow the chase, nobody ever
molests them.
The herds of the Tartars of the Ortous are not very numerous, and are
quite different from those which feed on the rich pastures of the
Tchakar, or of Gechekten. The cattle and horses appeared very miserable;
the goats, sheep, and camels, however, looked very well, which is
undoubtedly the consequence of their predilection for plants impregnated
with saltpetre, whereas cattle and horses prefer fresh pastures, and pure
and abundant water.
The Mongols of Ortous are very much affected by the wretchedness of the
soil upon which they live. In the course of our journey we saw no
indication that they had become much richer than they were in the time of
the Emperor Khang-Hi. Most of them live in tents made of some rags of
felt, or of goat-skins framed on a wretched woodwork. Everything about
these tents is so old and dirty, so tattered with time and storms, that
you would with difficulty suppose they could serve as abodes for human
beings. Whenever we happened to pitch our tent near these poor
habitations, we were sure to be visited by a crowd of wretches who
prostrated themselves at our feet, rolled on the earth, and gave us the
most magnificent titles, in order to extract something from our charity.
We were not rich, but we could not abstain from bestowing upon them a
part of the modicum which the goodness of Providence had bestowed upon
us. We gave them some leaves of tea, a handful of oatmeal, some broiled
millet, sometimes some mutton fat. Alas! we would fain have given more,
but we were obliged to give according to our means. The missionaries are
themselves poor men, who only live upon the alms distributed among them
every year by their brothers in Europe.
Any one not acquainted with the laws by which the Tartars are ruled,
would not readily understand why men condemn themselves to spend their
lives in the wretched country of the Ortous, whilst Mongolia presents, in
every direction, immense uninhabited plains, where water and pasture are
to be found in abundance. Although the Tartars are nomads, and
incessantly wandering about from one place to another, they are,
nevertheless, not at liberty to live in any other country than their own.
They are bound to remain in their own kingdom, under the dominion of
their own sovereign, for slavery is still maintained among the Mongol
tribes with the utmost rigour. In order to attain an accurate idea of
the degree of liberty these people enjoy in their desert regions, it is
expedient to enter into some details as to the form of their government.
Mongolia is divided into several sovereignties, whose chiefs are subject
to the Emperor of China, himself a Tartar, but of the Mantchou race:
these chiefs bear titles corresponding to those of kings, dukes, earls,
barons, etc. They govern their states according to their own pleasure,
none having any right to meddle with their affairs. They acknowledge as
sovereign only the Emperor of China. Whenever there arise differences
among them, they appeal to Peking. Instead of levelling lances at each
other, as used to be done in the middle age of Europe, among its little
sovereigns, so warlike and so turbulent, they always submit with respect
to the decision of the Court of Peking, whatever it may be. Though the
Mongol sovereigns think it their duty to prostrate themselves, once a
year, before the Son of Heaven, Lord of the Earth, they nevertheless do
not concede to the Grand-Khan the right of dethroning the reigning
families in the Tartar principalities. He may, they say, cashier a king
for grave misconduct, but he is bound to fill up the vacant place with
one of the superseded prince's sons. The sovereignty belongs, they
contend, to such and such a family, by a right which is inalienable, and
of which it were a crime to dispossess the owner.
A few years ago, the King of Barains {170} was accused at Peking of
having conspired a rebellion against the Emperor; he was tried by the
Supreme Tribunal without being heard, and condemned to be "shortened at
both ends," the meaning of the decree being, that his head and feet
should be cut off. The king made enormous presents to the officials who
were sent to superintend the execution of the imperial edict, and they
contented themselves with cutting off his braid of hair, and the soles of
his boots. They reported at Peking that the order had been executed, and
no more was said about the matter. The king, however, descended from his
throne, and was succeeded by his son.
Although it is a sort of customary right that power shall always remain
in the same family, it cannot be said that there is anything precisely
fixed in this respect. There can be nothing more vague and indefinite
than the relations between the Tartar sovereigns and the Grand-Khan or
Emperor of China, whose omnipotent will is above all laws and all
customs. In practice, the Emperor has the right to do whatever he
chooses to do, and the right is never disputed by any person. If
doubtful or disputed cases arise, they are decided by force.
In Tartary, all the families that are in any way related to the
sovereign, form a nobility, or a patrician cast, who are proprietors of
the whole soil. These nobles, called Taitsi, are distinguished by a blue
button surmounting the cap. It is from among them that the sovereigns of
the different states select their ministers, who are generally three in
number, and called Toutzelaktsi--that is to say, a man who assists or
lends his aid. This rank gives them the right of wearing the red button.
Below the Toutzelaktsi are the Touchimel, subaltern officers, who are
charged with the details of government. Lastly, a certain number of
secretaries or interpreters, who must be versed in the Mongol, Mantchou,
and Chinese languages, complete the hierarchy.
In the country of the Khalkhas, to the north of the desert of Gobi, there
is a district entirely occupied by Taitsi, who are supposed to be
descendants of the Mongol dynasty, that was founded by Tchinggiskhan, and
which occupied the imperial throne from 1260 to 1341. After the
revolution, which restored the national independence of the Chinese,
these people sought refuge among the Khalkhas, obtained, without
difficulty, a portion of their immense territory, and adopted the nomad
life, which their ancestors had led prior to the conquest of China.
These Taitsi live in the greatest independence, liable to no duty, paying
no tribute to any one, and recognising no sovereign. Their wealth
consists in tents and cattle. The country of the Taitsi is, of all the
Mongol regions, that wherein the patriarchal manners are found to be most
accurately preserved, such as the Bible describes them in the lives of
Abraham, Jacob, and the other pastors of Mesopotamia.
The Tartars who do not belong to the royal family, are all slaves, living
in absolute subjection to their masters. Besides the rents they pay,
they are bound to keep their master's flocks and herds, but they are not
forbidden to breed also cattle on their own account. It would be a
fallacy to imagine that slavery in Tartary is oppressive and cruel, as
amongst some nations; the noble families scarcely differ from the slave
families. In examining the relations between them, it would be difficult
to distinguish the master from the slave: they live both alike in tents,
and both alike occupy their lives in pasturing their flocks. You will
never find among them luxury and opulence insolently staring in the face
of poverty. When the slave enters his master's tent, the latter never
fails to offer him tea and milk; they smoke together, and exchange their
pipes. Around the tents the young slaves and the young noblemen romp and
wrestle together without distinction; the stronger throws the weaker;
that is all. You often find families of slaves becoming proprietors of
numerous flocks, and spending their days in abundance. We met many who
were richer than their masters, a circumstance giving no umbrage to the
latter. What a difference between this slavery and that of Rome, for
instance, where the Roman citizen, when he made up the inventory of his
house, classed his slaves as furniture. With those haughty and cruel
masters the slave did not merit even the name of man; he was called,
without ceremony, a domestic thing, _res domestica_. Slavery, with the
Mongol Tartars, is even less oppressive, less insulting to humanity, than
the bondage of the middle ages. The Mongol masters never give to their
slaves those humiliating nicknames which were formerly used to designate
serfs; they call them brothers; never villeins, never scum, never _gent
taillable et corveable a merci_.
The Tartar nobles have the right of life and death over their slaves.
They may administer justice themselves upon their bondsmen, even to
sentence of death; but this privilege is never exercised in an arbitrary
way. In case a slave has been put to death, a superior tribunal
investigates the action of the master, and if it be found that he has
abused his right, the innocent blood is revenged. The Lamas who belong
to slave families become free, in some degree, as soon as they enter the
sacerdotal tribe; they are liable neither to rents nor enforced labour;
they are at liberty to quit their country, and ramble through the world
at their pleasure, without anybody having the right to stay them.
Although the relations between master and slave are generally full of
humanity and good-will, there are nevertheless Tartar sovereigns who
abuse their right, and oppress their people, and exact exorbitant
tributes. We know one who makes use of a system of oppression that is
truly revolting. He selects from among his flocks the oldest and
sickliest cattle, camels, sheep and goats, and gives them in charge to
the rich slaves in his states, who cannot, of course, object to pasture
the cattle of their sovereign master; but are fain to consider it rather
an honour. After a few years, the king applies for his cattle, by this
time all dead or dying of illness or old age, and selects from the flocks
of his slaves the youngest and strongest; often even, not content with
this, he demands double or treble the number. "Nothing," says he, "is
more just; for in two or three years my beasts must have multiplied, and
therefore a great number of lambs, colts, calves, and young camels belong
to me."
Slavery, however mitigated and softened, can never be in harmony with the
dignity of man. It has been abolished in Europe, and we hope will be
abolished one day among the Mongol people. But this great revolution
will, as everywhere else, be operated by the influence of Christianity.
It will not be theory-mongers who will liberate these nomad people. The
work will be the work of the priests of Jesus Christ, of the preachers of
the Holy Gospel, that Divine Charter, wherein are set forth the true
rights of man. So soon as the missionaries shall have taught the Mongols
to say, "Our Father who art in Heaven," slavery will fall in Tartary, and
the tree of liberty will grow beside the cross.
After some days' march across the sands of the Ortous, we noticed on our
way a small Lamasery, richly built in a picturesque and wild situation.
We passed on without stopping. We had advanced a gun-shot from the
place, when we heard behind us the galloping of a horse. On looking
round we saw a Lama following us at full speed. "Brothers," he said,
"you have passed our _Soume_ (Lamasery) without stopping. Are you in
such haste that you cannot repose for a day, and offer your adorations to
our saint?" "Yes, we are rather in a hurry; our journey is not of a few
days; we are going to the West." "I knew very well by your physiognomies
that you were not Mongols, and that you came from the West; but as you
are going so far, you had better prostrate yourselves before our saint;
that will bring you good luck." "We never prostrate ourselves before
men; the true creed of the West forbids that." "Our saint is not a mere
man; you do not imagine, perhaps, that in our little Lamasery we have the
happiness to possess a Chaberon, a living Buddha. It is two years since
he deigned to descend from the holy mountains of Thibet; he is now seven
years old. In one of his former lives he was Grand Lama of a splendid
Lamasery in this vale, which was destroyed, according to the
prayer-books, in the time of the wars of Tching-Kis. The saint having
reappeared a few years since, we have constructed in haste a small
Lamasery. Come, brothers, our saint will hold his right hand over your
heads, and luck will accompany your steps!" "The men who know the Holy
Doctrine of the West, do not believe in all these transmigrations of the
Chaberons. We adore only the Creator of Heaven and earth; his name is
Jehovah. We believe that the child you have made superior of your
Lamasery is destitute of all power. Men have nothing to hope or to fear
from him." When the Lama heard these words, which he certainly never
expected, he was quite stupified. By degrees his face became animated,
and at last exhibited indignation and anger. He looked at us several
times, then, pulling the bridle of his horse, he turned short round and
left us hastily, muttering between his teeth some words which we could
not exactly hear, but which we were aware did not constitute a
benediction.
The Tartars believe with firm and absolute faith in all these various
transmigrations. They would never allow themselves to entertain the
slightest doubt as to the authenticity of their Chaberons. These living
Buddhas are in large numbers, and are always placed at the head of the
most important Lamaseries. Sometimes they modestly begin their career in
a small temple, and have only a few disciples; but very soon their
reputation increases around, and the small Lamasery becomes a place of
pilgrimage and devotion. The neighbouring Lamas, speculating upon the
rising fashion, surround it with their cells; the Lamasery acquires
development from year to year, and becomes at last famous in the land.
The election and enthronization of the living Buddhas are conducted in so
singular a manner as to be well worth relating. When a Grand Lama has
gone, that is to say, is dead, the circumstance is no occasion of
mourning in the Lamasery. There are no tears, no lamentations, for
everybody knows the Chaberon will very soon reappear. This apparent
death is but the beginning of a new existence, as it were, one ring more
added to the unlimited, uninterrupted chain of successive lives--a
regular palingenesis. While the saint is in a state of chrysalis, his
disciples are in the greatest anxiety; for it is their most important
affair to discover the place where their master will resume life. A
rainbow appearing in the air is considered a signal sent to them by their
old Great Lama to aid them in their research. Everyone thereupon says
his prayers, and while the Lamasery which has lost its Buddha redoubles
its fastings and prayers, a troop of elect proceeds to consult the
Tchurtchun or augur, famous for the knowledge of things hidden from the
common herd. He is informed that on such a day of such a moon the
rainbow of the Chaberon has manifested itself on the sky; it made its
appearance in such a place; it was more or less luminous, and it was
visible so long; then it disappeared amid such and such circumstances.
When the Tchurtchun has received all the necessary indications, he
recites some prayers, opens his books of divination, and pronounces at
last his oracle, while the Tartars who have come to consult him, listen,
kneeling and full of unction. "Your Great Lama," says he, "has
reappeared in Thibet, at such a distance from your Lamasery. You will
find him in such a family." When these poor Mongols have heard this
oracle, they return full of joy to announce the glad tidings to their
Lamasery.
It often happens that the disciples of the defunct have no occasion to
trouble themselves at all in order to discover the new birth-place of
their Great Lama. He himself takes the trouble to initiate them into the
secret of his transformation. As soon as he has effected his
metamorphosis in Thibet, he reveals himself at an age when common
children cannot yet articulate a single word. "It is I," he says with
the accent of authority; "it is I who am the Great Lama, the living
Buddha of such a temple; conduct me to my ancient Lamasery. I am its
immortal superior." The wonderful baby having thus spoken, it is
speedily communicated to the Lamas of the Soume indicated, that their
Chaberon is born in such a place, and they are summoned to attend and
invite him home.
In whatever manner the Tartars discover the residence of their Great
Lama, whether by the appearance of the rainbow, or by the spontaneous
revelation of the Chaberon himself, they are always full of intense joy
on the occasion. Soon all is movement in the tents, and the thousand
preparations for a long journey are made with enthusiasm, for it is
almost always in Thibet that they have to seek their living Buddha, who
seldom fails to play them the trick of transmigrating in some remote and
almost inaccessible country. Everyone contributes his share to the
organisation of the holy journey. If the king of the country does not
place himself at the head of the caravan, he sends either his own son or
one of the most illustrious members of the royal family. The great
Mandarins, or ministers of the king, consider it their duty and an honour
to join the party. When everything is at last prepared, an auspicious
day is chosen, and the caravan starts.
Sometimes these poor Mongols, after having endured incredible fatigues in
horrible deserts, fall into the hands of the brigands of the Blue Sea,
who strip them from head to foot. If they do not die of hunger and cold
in those dreadful solitudes--if they succeed in returning to the place
whence they came--they commence the preparations for a new journey.
There is nothing capable of discouraging them. At last, when, by dint of
energy and perseverance, they have contrived to reach the eternal
sanctuary, they prostrate themselves before the child who has been
indicated to them. The young Chaberon, however, is not saluted and
proclaimed Great Lama without a previous examination. There is held a
solemn sitting, at which the new living Buddha is examined publicly, with
a scrupulous attention. He is asked the name of the Lamasery of which he
assumes to be the Great Lama; at what distance it is; what is the number
of the Lamas residing in it. He is interrogated respecting the habits
and customs of the defunct Great Lama, and the principal circumstances
attending his death. After all these questions, there are placed before
him different prayer-books, articles of furniture, teapots, cups, etc.,
and amongst all these things he has to point out those which belonged to
his former life.
Generally this child, at most but five or six years old, comes forth
victorious out of all these trials. He answers accurately all the
questions that are put to him, and makes without any embarrassment the
inventory of his goods. "Here," he says, "are the prayer-books I used;
there is the japanned porringer out of which I drank my tea." And so on.
No doubt the Mongols are often dupes of the fraud of those who have an
interest in making a Great Lama out of this puppet. Yet we believe that
often all this proceeds on both sides with honesty and good faith. From
the information we obtained from persons worthy of the greatest credit,
it appears certain that all that is said of the Chaberons must not be
ranged amongst illusion and deception. A purely human philosophy will,
undoubtedly, reject such things, or put them, without hesitating, down to
the account of Lama imposture. We Catholic missionaries believe that the
great liar who once deceived our first parents in the earthly Paradise
still pursues his system of falsehood in the world. He who had the power
to hold up in the air Simon Magus may well at this day speak to mankind
by the mouth of an infant, in order to maintain the faith of his adorers.
When the titles of the living Buddha have been confirmed, he is conducted
in triumph to the Lamasery, of which he is to be the Grand Lama. Upon
the road he takes, all is excitement, all is movement. The Tartars
assemble in large crowds to prostrate themselves on his way, and to
present to him their offerings. As soon as he is arrived at his
Lamasery, he is placed upon the altar; and then, kings, princes,
mandarins, Lamas, Tartars, from the richest to the poorest, come and bend
the head before this child, which has been brought from the depths of
Thibet, at enormous expense, and whose demoniac possessions excite every
body's respect, admiration, and enthusiasm.
There is no Tartar kingdom which does not possess, in one of its
Lamaseries of the first class, a living Buddha. Besides this superior,
there is always another Grand Lama, who is selected from the members of
the royal family. The Thibetian Lama resides in the Lamasery, like a
living idol, receiving every day the adorations of the devout, upon whom
in return he bestows his blessing. Everything which relates to prayers
and liturgical ceremonies, is placed under his immediate superintendence.
The Mongol Grand Lama is charged with the administration, good order, and
executive of the Lamasery; he governs whilst his colleague is content to
reign. The famous maxim, _Le roi regne et ne gouverne pas_, is not,
therefore, the grand discovery in politics that some people imagine.
People pretend to invent a new system, and merely plunder, without saying
a word about it, the old constitution of the Tartar Lamaseries.
Below these two sovereigns, are several subaltern officers, who direct
the details of the administration, the revenues, the sales, the
purchases, and the discipline. The scribes keep the registers, and draw
up the regulations and orders which the governor Lama promulgates for the
good keeping and order of the Lamasery. These scribes are generally well
versed in the Mongol, Thibetian, and sometimes in the Chinese and
Mantchou languages. Before they are admitted to this employment, they
are obliged to undergo a very rigorous examination, in presence of all
the Lamas and of the principal civil authorities, of the country.
After this staff of superiors and officers, the inhabitants of the
Lamasery are divided in Lama-masters and Lama-disciples or Chabis; each
Lama has under his direction one or more Chabis, who live in his small
house, and execute all the details of the household. If the master
possesses cattle, they take charge of them, milk the cows, and prepare
the butter and cream. In return for these services, the master directs
his disciples in the study of the prayers, and initiates them into the
liturgy. Every morning the Chabi must be up before his master; his first
task is to sweep the chamber, to light a fire and to make the tea; after
that he takes his prayer-book, presents it respectfully to his master,
and prostrates himself thrice before him, without saying a single word.
This sign of respect is equivalent to a request that the lesson he has to
learn in the course of the day may be marked. The master opens the book,
and reads some pages, according to the capacity of his scholar, who then
makes three more prostrations in sign of thanks, and returns to his
affairs.
The Chabi studies his prayer-book, when he is disposed to do so, there
being no fixed period for that; he may spend his time, sleeping or
romping with the other young pupils, without the slightest interference
on the part of his master. When the hour for retiring to bed has
arrived, he recites the lesson assigned him in the morning, in a
monotonous manner; if the recitation is good, he is looked upon as having
done his duty, the silence of his master being the only praise he is
entitled to obtain; if, on the contrary, he is not able to give a good
account of his lesson, the severest punishment makes him sensible of his
fault. It often happens, that under such circumstances, the master,
laying aside his usual gravity, rushes upon his scholar, and overwhelms
him at once with blows and terrible maledictions. Some of the pupils,
who are over maltreated, run away and seek adventures far from their
Lamasery; but in general they patiently submit to the punishment
inflicted on them, even that of passing the night in the open air,
without any clothes and in full winter. We often had opportunities of
talking with Chabis, and when we asked them whether there was no means of
learning the prayers without being beaten, they ingenuously and with an
accent manifesting entire conviction, replied, that it was impossible.
"The prayers one knows best," they said, "are always those for which one
has got most blows. The Lamas who cannot recite prayers, or cure
maladies, or tell fortunes, or predict the future, are those who have not
been beaten well by their masters."
Besides these studies, which are conducted at home, and under the
immediate superintendence of the master, the Chabis may attend, in the
Lamasery, public lectures, wherein the books which relate to religion and
to medicine are expounded. But these commentaries are mostly vague,
unsatisfactory, and quite inadequate to form learned Lamas; there are few
of them who can give an exact account of the books they study; to justify
their omission in this respect, they never fail to allege the profundity
of the doctrine. As to the great majority of the Lamas, they think it
more convenient and expeditious to recite the prayers in a merely
mechanical way, without giving themselves any trouble about the ideas
they contain. When we come to speak of the Lamaseries of Thibet, where
the instruction is more complete than in those of Tartary, we shall enter
into some details upon Lama studies.
The Thibetian books alone being reputed canonical, and admitted as such
by the Buddhist Reformation, the Mongol Lamas pass their lives in
studying a foreign idiom, without troubling themselves at all about their
own language. There are many of them well versed in the Thibetian
literature, who do not even know their own Mongol alphabet. There are
indeed a few Lamaseries where the study of the Tartarian idiom receives
some slight attention, and where they sometimes recite Mongol prayers,
but these are always a translation of Thibetian books. A Lama who can
read Thibetian and Mongol is reputed quite a _savant_; he is thought a
being raised above mankind, if he has some knowledge of Chinese and
Mantchou literature.
As we advanced in the Ortous, the country seemed more and more desert and
dismal. To make matters still worse, a terrible storm, solemnly closing
in the autumn season, brought upon us the cold of winter.
One day, we were proceeding with difficulty through the arid sandy
desert; the perspiration ran down our foreheads, for the heat was
stifling; we felt overpowered by the closeness of the atmosphere, and our
camels, with outstretched necks and mouths half open, vainly sought in
the air a breath of cooling freshness. Towards noon, dark clouds began
to gather in the horizon; fearful of being surprised by the storm, we
determined to pitch our tent. But where? We looked round on all sides;
we ascended to the tops of the hillocks and anxiously sought with our
eyes for some Tartar habitation, which might provide us with fuel, but in
vain; we had before us on all sides nothing but a mournful solitude.
From time to time, we saw the foxes retiring to their holes, and herds of
yellow goats running to take repose in the defiles of the mountains.
Meantime, the clouds continued to rise and the wind began to blow
violently. In the irregularity of its gusts it seemed now to bring us
the tempest, now to drive it from us. While we were thus suspended
between hope and fear, loud claps of thunder, and repeated flashes of
lightning, that seemed to enkindle the sky, gave us notice that we had no
other resource than to place ourselves entirely in the hands of
Providence. The icy north wind blowing fiercely, we directed our steps
to a defile, which opened near us; but before we had time to reach it the
storm exploded. At first, rain fell in torrents, then hail, and at last
snow half melted. In an instant we were wet through to the skin, and
felt the cold seizing upon our limbs. We immediately alighted, hoping
that walking would warm us a little, but we had hardly advanced ten steps
amidst the deluge of sand, when our legs sank as in mortar. When we
found it impossible to go any further we sought shelter by the side of
our camels, and crouched down, pressing our arms closely against our
sides, in order to attain, if possible, a little warmth.
While the storm continued to hurl against us its fury, we awaited with
resignation the fate which Providence destined for us. It was impossible
to pitch the tent; it was beyond human power to spread cloth saturated
with rain, and half frozen by the north wind. Besides it would have been
difficult to find a site for it, since the water streamed in every
direction. Amid circumstances so dreadful, we looked at each other in
sadness and in silence; we felt the natural warmth of our body
diminishing every minute, and our blood beginning to freeze. We offered,
therefore, the sacrifice of our lives to God, for we were convinced that
we should die of cold during the night.
One of us, however, collecting all his strength and all his energy,
climbed up an eminence, which commanded a view of the contiguous defile,
and discovered a footpath, leading by a thousand sinuosities into the
depths of the immense ravine; he pursued its direction, and after a few
steps in the hollow, perceived in the sides of the mountain large
openings, like doors. At this sight recovering at once his courage and
his strength, he ascended once more the eminence in order to communicate
the good news to his companions. "We are saved," he cried; "there are
caves in this defile; let us hasten to take refuge in them." These words
immediately aroused the little caravan; we left our animals upon the
hill, and speedily descended into the ravine. A footpath led to the
opening; we advanced our heads, and discovered in the interior of the
mountain, not simple caves formed by nature, but fine, spacious
apartments excavated by the hand of man. Our first exclamation was an
expression of thankfulness for the goodness of Providence. We selected
the cleanest and largest of these caverns and in an instant passed from
the utmost misery to the height of felicity. It was like a sudden and
unhoped-for transition from death to life.
[Picture: Caves of the Ortous]
On viewing these subterranean dwellings, constructed with so much
elegance and solidity, we were of opinion that some Chinese families had
repaired to this country to cultivate the soil; but that, repelled by its
barrenness, they had given up their enterprise. Traces of cultivation,
which we perceived here and there, confirmed our conjecture. When the
Chinese establish themselves anywhere in Tartary, if they find mountains,
the earth of which is hard and solid, they excavate caverns in their
sides. These habitations are cheaper than houses, and less exposed to
the irregularity of the seasons. They are generally very well laid out;
on each side of the door there are windows, giving sufficient light to
the interior; the walls, the ceiling, the furnaces, the kang, everything
inside is so coated with plaster, so firm and shining, that it has the
appearance of stucco. These caves have the advantage of being very warm
in winter and very cool in summer; the want of sufficient air, however,
sometimes makes a sojourn in them dangerous to the health. Those
dwellings were no novelty to us, for they abound in our mission of
Si-Wan. However, we had never seen any so well constructed as these of
the Ortous.
We took possession of one of those subterranean abodes, and commenced
proceedings by making a large fire in the furnaces, with plentiful
bundles of hemp-stems, which we found in one of the caves. Never, on our
journey, had we at our disposal such excellent fuel. Our clothes dried
very soon, and we were so happy at being in this fine hotel of
Providence, that we spent the greater part of the night enjoying the
delightful sensation of warmth, while Samdadchiemba was never tired of
broiling little cakes in mutton fat. It was altogether quite a festival
with us, and our flour felt somewhat the effects of it.
The animals were not less happy than we. We found for them stables out
in the mountain, and, which was better still, excellent forage. One cave
was filled with millet stems and oat-straw. But for this horrible storm,
which had nearly killed us, our animals would never have got so grand a
treat. After having for a long time enjoyed the poetry of our miraculous
position, we yielded to the necessity of taking repose, and laid down
upon a well-warmed kang, which made us forget the terrible cold we had
endured during the tempest.
Next morning, while Samdadchiemba was using the rest of the hemp stems,
and drying our baggage, we went out for a nearer inspection of these
numerous subterrenes. We had scarcely gone ten steps, when we beheld, to
our great astonishment, whirls of smoke issuing from the door and windows
of a cave adjoining our own. As we fancied we were alone in the desert,
the sight of this smoke excited a surprise, mingled with fear. We
directed our steps to the opening of the cavern, and, on reaching the
threshold of the door, perceived within a large fire of hemp stems, whose
undulating flame reached the ceiling, so that the place looked like an
oven. On further investigation we observed a human form moving amidst
the thick smoke; we soon heard the Tartar salute, Mendou! uttered by a
sonorous voice; "Come and sit beside this fire." We did not like to
advance. This cave of Cacus, that loud voice, presented to our minds
something phantastic. Finding that we remained silent and motionless,
the inhabitant of this sort of vent-hole of Erebus, rose and came to the
threshold. He was neither a devil nor a ghost, but simply a Mongol
Tartar, who, the night before, having been surprised by the storm, had
fled to this cave, where he had passed the night. After a few words
about the rain, wind and hail, we invited him to breakfast with us, and
brought him to our dwelling. While Samdadchiemba, aided by our guest,
made the tea, we went out again to pursue our researches.
We walked amid these deserted and silent abodes with a curiosity not free
from terror. All were constructed upon much the same model, and still
preserved their pristine integrity. Chinese characters engraved on the
walls, and pieces of porcelain vases, confirmed our impression that these
caves had been inhabited not long since by Chinese. Some old woman's
shoes, which we discovered in a corner, removed any remaining doubt. We
could not shake off a feeling of sadness and melancholy, when we thought
of those numerous families, who, after having lived a long time in the
entrails of this large mountain, had gone elsewhere to seek a more
hospitable soil. As we entered the caves, we alarmed flocks of sparrows,
which had not yet left these former dwellings of man, but had, on the
contrary, boldly taken possession of these grand nests. The millet and
oats strewn around profusely, induced them to remain. "Undoubtedly,"
said we, "they too will fly away when they no longer find here any more
grains, when they find that the old inhabitants of these caves return no
more, and they will seek hospitality under the roofs of houses."
The sparrow is a regular cosmopolite; we have found it wherever we have
found man; ever with the same vivid, petulant, quarrelsome character;
ever with the same sharp, angry cry. It is, however, to be remarked that
in Tartary, China, and Thibet it is, perhaps, more insolent than in
Europe; because there, nobody makes war upon it, and its nest and brood
are piously respected. You see it boldly enter the house, live there on
familiar terms, and peck up at its leisure the remnants of man's food.
The Chinese call it Kio-nio-eul, (bird of the family).
After having inspected about thirty of these caves, which did not present
anything remarkable, we returned to our own. At breakfast, the
conversation naturally turned upon the Chinese who had excavated these
dwellings. We asked the Tartar if he had seen them. "What!" said he,
"have I seen the Kitats who inhabited this defile? Why, I knew all of
them; it is not more than two years since they left the country. For
that matter," he added, "they had no right to remain here; as they were
rascals, it was quite proper to turn them out." "Rascals, say you? why,
what mischief could they do in this wretched ravine?" "Oh, the Kitats
are sly, cheating fellows. At first, they seemed very good; but that did
not last long. It is more than twenty years ago that a few of their
families sought our hospitality: as they were poor, they got permission
to cultivate some land in the vicinity, on condition, that every year
after harvest they should furnish some oatmeal to the Taitsi of the
country. By degrees, other families arrived, who also excavated caverns
wherein to dwell; and soon this defile was full of them. In the
beginning, these Kitats showed a gentle, quiet character; we lived
together like brothers. Tell me, Sirs Lamas, is it not well to live
together like brothers? Are not all men brothers?" "Yes, that is true;
you speak the words of justice; but why did these Kitats go hence?"
"Peace did not last long; they soon showed themselves wicked and false.
Instead of being content with what had been given them, they extended
their cultivation at their pleasure, and took possession of a large
territory, without asking anyone's leave. When they were rich they would
not pay the oatmeal they had agreed to pay as tribute. Every year, when
we claimed the rent, we were received with insults and maledictions. But
the worst thing was, that these rascally Kitats turned thieves, and took
possession of all the goats and sheep that lost their way in the
sinuosities of the ravine. At last, a Taitsi of great courage and
capacity, called together the Mongols of the neighbourhood, and
said,--'The Kitats take away our land, they steal our beasts, and curse
us; as they do not act or speak as brothers, we must expel them.'
Everybody was pleased with these words of the old Taitsi. After a
deliberation, it was decided that the principal men of the country should
go to the king, and supplicate an order condemning the Kitats to be
expelled. I was one of the deputation. The king reproached us for
having permitted foreigners to cultivate our lands; we prostrated
ourselves before him, observing profound silence. However, the king, who
always acts with justice, had the order written, and sealed with his red
seal. The ordonnance said, that the king would not permit the Kitats to
live any longer in the country; and that they must leave it before the
first day of the eighth moon. Three Taitsi rode off to present the
ordonnance to the Kitats. They made no answer to the three deputies, but
said amongst themselves, 'The king desires us to go; very well.'
"Afterwards we learned that they had assembled and had resolved to
disobey the orders of the king and to remain in the country, in spite of
him. The first day of the eighth moon arrived, and they still occupied
calmly their habitations, without making any preparation for departure.
In the morning, before daybreak, all the Tartars mounted their horses,
armed themselves with their lances, and drove their flocks and herds upon
the cultivated lands of the Kitats, on which the crop was still standing:
when the sun rose, nothing of that crop was left. All had been devoured
by the animals, or trodden down. The Kitats yelled and cursed us, but
the thing was done. Seeing that their position was desperate, they
collected, the same day, their furniture and agricultural implements, and
went off to settle in the eastern parts of the Ortous, at some distance
from the Yellow River, near the Paga-Gol. As you came through
Tchagan-Kouren, you must have met on your route, west of the Paga-Gol,
Kitats cultivating some pieces of land; well, it was they who inhabited
this defile, and excavated all these caves."
Having finished his narrative, the Tartar went out for a moment and
brought back a small packet, which he had left in the cavern, where he
had passed the night. "Sirs Lamas," he said on his return, "I must
depart; but will you not come and repose for a few days in my dwelling?
My tent is not far hence; it is behind that sandy mountain which you
perceive there towards the north. It is at the utmost not more than
thirty lis off." "We are much obliged to you," answered we. "The
hospitality of the Mongols of Ortous is known everywhere, but we have a
long journey before us; we cannot stop on our way." "What are a few
days, sooner or later, in a long journey? Your beasts cannot always be
on their feet; they need a little rest. You yourselves have had much to
endure from the weather of yesterday. Come with me; all will then be
well. In four days we shall have a festival. My eldest son is going to
establish a family. Come to the nuptials of my son; your presence will
bring him good fortune." The Tartar, seeing us inflexible, mounted his
horse, and after having ascended the pathway which led to the defile,
disappeared across the heath and sand of the desert.
Under other circumstances, we should have accepted with pleasure the
offer thus made; but we desired to make the shortest possible stay
amongst the Ortous. We were anxious to leave behind us that miserable
country, where our animals were wasting away daily, and where we had
ourselves met with such fatigue and misery. Besides, a Mongol wedding
was no new thing to us. Since we had entered Tartary, we had witnessed
more than once, ceremonies of that kind.
The Mongols marry very young, and always under the influence of the
absolute authority of the parents. This affair, so grave and important,
is initiated, discussed, and concluded, without the two persons most
interested in it, taking the least part in it. Whatever promises of
marriage may take place in youth, or at more advanced age, it is the
parents who always settle the contract, without even speaking to their
children about it. The two future consorts do not know, perhaps never
saw each other. It is only when they are married that they have the
opportunity to inquire whether there is sympathy between their characters
or not.
The daughter never brings any marriage portion. On the contrary, the
young man has to make presents to the family of his bride: and the value
of these presents is seldom left to the generosity of the husband's
parents. Everything is arranged beforehand and set forth in a public
document, with the minutest details. In fact, the matter is less a
marriage present than the price of an object, sold by one party and
bought by the other. The thing is indeed very clearly expressed in their
language; they say, "I have bought for my son the daughter of so and so."
"We have sold our daughter to such and such a family." The marriage
contract is thus simply a contract of sale. There are mediators, who
bargain and haggle, up and down, till at last they come to an agreement.
When it is settled how many horses, oxen, sheep, pieces of linen, pounds
of butter, what quantity of brandy and wheat-flour shall be given to the
family of the bride, the contract is at length drawn up before witnesses,
and the daughter becomes the property of the purchaser. She remains,
however, with her family till the time of the nuptial ceremonies.
When the marriage has been concluded between the mediators, the father of
the bridegroom, accompanied by his nearest relations, carries the news to
the family of the bride. On entering, they prostrate themselves before
the little domestic altar, and offer to the idol of Buddha a boiled
sheep's head, milk, and a sash of white silk. Then they partake of a
repast provided by the parents of the bridegroom. During the repast, all
the relations of the bride receive a piece of money, which they deposit
in a vase filled with wine made of fermented milk. The father of the
bride drinks the wine, and keeps the money. This ceremony is called
Tahil-Tebihou, "striking the bargain."
The day indicated by the Lamas as auspicious for the marriage having
arrived, the bridegroom sends early in the morning a deputation to fetch
the girl who has been betrothed to him, or rather whom he has bought.
When the envoys draw near, the relations and friends of the bride place
themselves in a circle before the door, as if to oppose the departure of
the bride, and then begins a feigned fight, which of course terminates
with the bride being carried off. She is placed on a horse, and having
been thrice led round her paternal house, she is then taken at full
gallop to the tent which has been prepared for the purpose, near the
dwelling of her father-in-law. Meantime, all the Tartars of the
neighbourhood, the relations and friends of both families, repair to the
wedding-feast, and offer their presents to the new married pair. The
extent of these presents, which consist of beasts and eatables, is left
to the generosity of the guests. They are destined for the father of the
bridegroom and often fully indemnify him for his expenses in the purchase
of the bride. As the offered animals come up they are taken into folds
ready constructed for them. At the weddings of rich Tartars, these large
folds receive great herds of oxen, horses and sheep. Generally the
guests are generous enough, for they know that they will be paid in
return, upon a similar occasion.
When the bride has finished dressing, she is introduced to her
father-in-law; and while the assembled Lamas recite the prayers
prescribed by the ritual, she first prostrates herself before the image
of Buddha, then before the hearth, and lastly before the father, mother,
and other near relatives of the bridegroom, who, on his part, performs
the same ceremonies towards the family of his bride, assembled in an
adjacent tent. Then comes the wedding-feast, which sometimes continues
for seven or eight days. An excessive profusion of fat meat, infinite
tobacco, and large jars of brandy, constitute the splendour and
magnificence of these repasts. Sometimes music is added to the
entertainment, and they invite Toolholos, or Tartar singers, to give more
solemnity to the festival.
The plurality of wives is admitted in Tartary, being opposed neither to
the laws, nor to the religion, nor to the manners of the country. The
first wife is always the mistress of the household, and the most
respected in the family. The other wives bear the name of little spouses
(paga eme), and owe obedience and respect to the first.
Polygamy, abolished by the Gospel, and contrary in itself to the
happiness and concord of families, may, perhaps, be regarded as a
blessing to the Tartars. Considering the present state of society with
them, it is, as it were, a barrier opposed to libertinism and corruption
of morals. Celibacy being imposed on the Lamas, and the class of those
who shave the head and live in lamaseries being so numerous, it is easy
to conceive what disorders would arise from this multiplication of young
women without support and abandoned to themselves, if girls could not be
placed in families in the quality of second wives.
Divorce is very frequent among the Tartars. It takes place without any
participation of the civil or ecclesiastical authorities. The husband,
who repudiates his wife, has not even occasion for a pretext to justify
his conduct. He sends her back, without any formality, to her parents,
and contents himself with a message that he does not require her any
longer. This proceeding is in accordance with Tartar manners, and does
not offend any one. The husband thinks himself entitled to the
privilege, in consideration of the oxen, sheep and horses he was obliged
to give as nuptial presents. The parents of the repudiated wife do not
complain at having their daughter back; she resumes her place in the
family till another husband presents himself, in which case, they even
rejoice over the profit they make by thus selling the same merchandise
twice over.
In Tartary, the women lead an independent life enough. They are far from
being oppressed and kept in servitude, as with other Asiatic nations.
They may come and go at their pleasure, ride out on horseback, and pay
each other visits from tent to tent. Instead of the soft, languishing
physiognomy of the Chinese women, the Tartar woman presents in her
bearing and manners a power and force well in accordance with her active
life and nomad habits, and her attire augments the effect of her
masculine, haughty mien.
Large leather boots, and a long green or violet robe fastened round the
waist by a black or blue girdle, constitutes her dress, except that
sometimes she wears over the great robe a small coat, resembling in form
our waistcoats, but very large, and coming down to the hips. The hair of
the Tartar women is divided in two tresses, tied up in taffetas, and
hanging down upon the bosom; their luxury consists in ornamenting the
girdle and hair with spangles of gold and silver, pearls, coral, and a
thousand other toys, the form and quality of which it would be difficult
for us to define, as we had neither opportunity, nor taste, nor patience
to pay serious attention to these futilities.
[Picture: Chapter Tailpiece]
[Picture: Barbarous Lamanesque Ceremony]