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THE UNVEILING
OF LHASA
BY
EDMUND CANDLER
AUTHOR OF 'A VAGABOND IN ASIA'
_WITH ILLUSTRATIONS AND MAP_
LONDON
EDWARD ARNOLD
Publisher to H.M. India Office
41 & 43 MADDOX STREET, BOND STREET, W.
1905
[_All rights reserved_]
THESE PAGES,
WRITTEN MOSTLY IN THE DRY COLD WIND OF TIBET,
OFTEN WHEN INK WAS FROZEN AND ONE'S HAND TOO NUMBED
TO FEEL A PEN, ARE DEDICATED TO
COLONEL HOGGE, C.B.,
AND
THE OFFICERS OF THE 23RD SIKH PIONEERS,
WHOSE GENIAL SOCIETY IS ONE OF THE MOST PLEASANT
MEMORIES OF A RIGOROUS CAMPAIGN.
PREFACE
The recent expedition to Lhasa was full of interest, not only on account
of the political issues involved and the physical difficulties overcome,
but owing to the many dramatic incidents which attended the Mission's
progress. It was my good fortune to witness nearly all these stirring
events, and I have written the following narrative of what I saw in the
hope that a continuous story of the affair may interest readers who have
hitherto been able to form an idea of it only from the telegrams in the
daily Press. The greater part of the book was written on the spot, while
the impressions of events and scenery were still fresh. Owing to wounds
I was not present at the bombardment and relief of Gyantse, but this
phase of the operations is dealt with by Mr. Henry Newman, _Reuter's_
correspondent, who was an eye-witness. I am especially indebted to him
for his account, which was written in Lhasa, and occupied many mornings
that might have been devoted to well-earned rest.
My thanks are also due to the Proprietors of the _Daily Mail_ for
permission to use material of which they hold the copyright; and I am
indebted to the Editors of the _Graphic_ and _Black and White_ for
allowing me to reproduce certain photographs by Lieutenant Bailey.
The illustrations are from sketches by Lieutenant Rybot, and photographs
by Lieutenants Bailey, Bethell, and Lewis, to whom I owe my cordial
thanks.
EDMUND CANDLER.
LONDON,
_January, 1905._
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I
THE CAUSES OF THE EXPEDITION
PAGES
A retrospect--Early visitors to Lhasa--The Jesuits--The
Capuchins--Van der Putte--Thomas Manning--The Lazarist
fathers--Policy of exclusion due to Chinese
influence--The Nepalese invasion--Bogle and Turner--The
Macaulay Mission--Tibetans invade Indian territory--The
expedition of 1888--The convention with China--British
blundering--Our treatment of the Shata Shapé--The
Yatung trade mart--Tibetans repudiate the
convention--Fiction of the Chinese suzerainty--A policy
of drift--Tibetan Mission to the Czar--Dorjieff and his
intrigues--The Dalai Lama and Russian designs--Our
great countermove--Boycotted at Khamba Jong--The
advance sanctioned--Winter quarters at Tuna 1-21
CHAPTER II
OVER THE FRONTIER
From the base to Gnatong--A race to Chumbi--A perilous
night ride--Forest scenery--Gnatong three years ago and
now--Gnatong in action--A mountain lake--The Jelap la
and beyond--Undefended barriers--Yatung and its Customs
House--Chumbi--The first Press message from
Tibet--Arctic clothing--Scenes in camp--A very
uncomfortable 'picnic' 22-34
CHAPTER III
THE CHUMBI VALLEY
The Tomos--A hardy race--Their habits and
diversions--Chinamen in exile--A prosperous valley--But
a cheerless clime--Kasi and his statistics--Trade
figures--Tibetan cruelties--Kasi as general
provider--Mountain scenery--The spirit of the
Himalayas--A glorious flora--The Himalayas and the
Alps--The wall of Gob-sorg--Chinamen and Tomos--A
future hill-station--Lingmathang--A cosy cave--The
Mounted Infantry Corps--Two famous regiments--Sport at
Lingmathang--The Sikkim stag--Gamebirds and
wildfowl--Gautsa camp 35-61
CHAPTER IV
PHARI JONG
Gautsa to Phari Jong--A wonderful old fortress--Tibetan
dirt--A medical armoury--The Lamas' library--Roadmaking
and sport--The Tibetan gazelle and other
animals--Evening diversions--Cold, grime, and
misery--Manning's journal--Bogle's account of
Phari--History of the fortress--The town and its
occupants--The mystery of Tibet--The significance of
the frescoes--Departure from Phari--The monastery of
the Red Lamas--Chumulari--The Tibetan New Year--Bogle's
narrative--The Tang la and the road to Lhasa 62-82
CHAPTER V
THE ROAD AND TRANSPORT
A transport 'show'--Difficulties of the way--Vicissitudes
of climate--Frozen heights and sweltering
valleys--Disease amongst transport animals--A tale of
disaster--The stricken Yak Corps--Troubles of the
transport officer--Mules to the rescue--The coolie
transport corps--Carrying power of the transport
items--The problem and its solution--The ekka and the
yak--A providentially ascetic beast--Splendid work of
the transport service--Courage and endurance of
officers and men--The 12th Mule Corps benighted in a
blizzard--Rifle-bolts and Maxims
frost-jammed--Difficulties of a Russian advance on
Lhasa--The new Ammo Chu cart-road 83-98
CHAPTER VI
THE ACTION AT THE HOT SPRINGS
The deadlock at Tuna--Discomforts of the garrison--The
Lamas' curse--The attitude of Bhutan--A diplomatic
triumph--Tedious delays--A welcome move forward--The
Tibetan camp at Hot Springs--The Lhasa Depon meets
Colonel Younghusband--Futile conferences--The Tibetan
position surrounded--Coolness of the Sikhs and
Gurkhas--The disarming--A sudden outbreak--A desperate
struggle--The action of the Lhasa General--The rabble
disillusioned in their gods--A beaten and bewildered
enemy--Reflections after the event--Tibetans in
hospital--Three months afterwards 99-114
CHAPTER VII
A HUMAN MISCELLANY
In a doolie to the base--Tibetan bearers--A retrospect--A
reverie and a reminiscence--Snow-bound at Phari--The
Bhutia as bearer--The Lepchas and their
humours--Mongolian odours--The road at last--Platitudes
in epigram--Lucknow doolie-wallahs--Their hymn of the
obvious--Meetings on the road--A motley of
races--Through a tropical forest--The Tista and
civilization 115-126
CHAPTER VIII
THE ADVANCE OF THE MISSION OPPOSED
The Tibetans responsible for hostilities--Their version of
the Hot Springs affair--Treacherous attack at
Samando--Wall-building--The Red Idol Gorge action--A
stiff climb--The enemy outflanked--Impressed
peasants--First phase of the opposition--Bad
generalship--Lack of enterprise--Erratic shooting--All
quiet at Gyantse--Enemy occupy Karo la--A booby
trap--Colonel Brander's sortie--Frontal attack
repulsed--Captain Bethune killed--Failure of flanking
movement--A critical moment--Sikhs turn the
position--Flight and pursuit--Second phase of the
opposition--Advanced tactics--Danger of being cut
off--The attack on Kangma--Desperate gallantry of the
enemy--Patriots or fanatics? 127-151
CHAPTER IX
GYANTSE (BY HENRY NEWMAN)
A happy valley--Devastated by war--Why the Jong was
evacuated--The lull before the storm--Tibetans
massing--The attack on the mission--A hot ten
minutes--Pyjamaed warriors--Wounded to the rescue--The
Gurkhas' rally--The camp bombarded--The labour of
defence work--Hadow's Maxim--Life during the
siege--Tibetans reinforced--They enfilade our
position--The taking of the 'Gurkha Post'--Terrible
carnage 152-169
CHAPTER X
GYANTSE--_continued_
Attack on the postal riders--Brilliant exploit of the
Mounted Infantry--Communications threatened--Clearing
the villages--A narrow shave--Arrival of
reinforcements--The storming of
Palla--House-fighting--Capture of the post--A fantastic
display--Night attacks--Seven miles of front--Advance
of the relief column--The Tibetans cornered--Naini
monastery taken--Capture of Tsaden--Our losses--The
armistice--Tibetans refuse to surrender the Jong--A
bristling fortress--The attack at dawn--The
breach--Gallantry of Lieutenant Grant and his
Gurkhas--Capture of the Jong 170-194
CHAPTER XI
GOSSIP ON THE ROAD TO THE FRONT
A garden in the forest--A jeremiad on transport--The
servant question--Jung Bir--British
Bhutan--Kalimpong--'The Bhutia tat'--Father
Desgodins--An adventurous career--A lost
opportunity--Chinese duplicity--Phuntshog--New arms and
new friends for Tibet--A mysterious Lama--Dorjieff
again--The inscrutable Tibetan 195-206
CHAPTER XII
TO THE GREAT RIVER
Failure of peace negociations--Opposition expected--Details
of force--March to the Karo la--Villages deserted--The
second Karo la action--The Gurkhas' climb--The Tibetan
rout--The Kham prisoners--Hopelessness of the Tibetans'
struggle--Their troops disheartened--Arrival at
Nagartse--Tedious delegates--The victory of a
personality--Brush with Tibetan cavalry--The last
shot--The Shapés despoiled--Modern rifles--Exaggerated
reports of Russian assistance--The Yamdok Tso--Dorje
Phagmo--Legends of the lake--The incubus of an
army--Why men travel--Wildfowl--Pehte--View from the
Khamba Pass--From the desert to Arcadia--The Tibetan of
the tablelands--The Tuna plateau--Homely scenes--A mood
of indolence--The course of the Tsangpo--The
Brahmaputra Irawaddy controversy--The projected Tsangpo
trip--Legendary geography--Lost opportunities 207-238
CHAPTER XIII
LHASA AND ITS VANISHED DEITY
The passage of the river--Major Bretherton drowned--The Kyi
Chu valley--Tropical heat--Atisa's tomb--Foraging in
holy places--First sight of the Potala--Hidden
Lhasa--Symbols of remonstrance--Prophecies of
invasion--And decay of Buddhism--Medieval
Tibet--Spiritual terrorism--Lamas' fears of
enlightenment--The last mystery unveiled--Arrival at
Lhasa--View from the Chagpo Ri--Entry into the
city--Apathy of the people--The Potala--Magnificence
and squalor--The secret of romance--A vanished
deity--'Thou shalt not kill'--Secret assassinations--A
marvellous disappearance--The Dalai Lama joins
Dorjieff--His personality and character--The verdict of
the Nepalese Resident--The voice without a soul--The
wisdom of his flight--A romantic picture--The place of
the dead 239-264
CHAPTER XIV
THE CITY AND ITS TEMPLES
Sullen monks--A Lama runs amok--The environs of Lhasa--The
Lingkhor--The Ragyabas--The cathedral--Service before
the Great Buddhas--The Lamas' chant--Vessels of
gold--'Hell'--White mice--The many-handed
Buddha--Silence and abstraction--The bazaar--Hats--The
Mongolians--Curio-hunting--The Ramo-ché--Sorcery--The
adventures of a soul--Lamaism and Roman
Catholicism--The decay of Buddhism--The three great
monasteries--Their political influence--Depung--An
ecclesiastical University--The 'impossible' Tibetan--An
ultimatum--Consternation at Depung--Temporizing and
evasion--An ugly mob--A political deadlock 265-285
CHAPTER XV
THE SETTLEMENT
An irresponsible administration--An insolent reply--Tibetan
haggling--Release of the Lachung men--Social relations
with the Tibetans--A guarded ultimatum--A diplomatic
triumph--The signing of the treaty--Colonel
Younghusband's speech--The terms--Political prisoners
liberated--Deposition of the Dalai Lama--The Tashe
Lama--Prospect of an Anglophile Pope--The practical
results of the expedition--Russia discredited--Why a
Resident should be left at Lhasa--China hesitates to
sign the Treaty--The 'vicious circle' again--Her
acquiescence not of vital importance--The attitude of
Tibet to Great Britain--Fear and respect the only
guarantee of future good conduct 286-304
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
A COLD DAY IN TIBET _frontispiece_
HEADQUARTERS OF THE MISSION AT LHASA _to face p._ 6
CHORTEN " 12
PANORAMA OF A CONVENT " 12
TUNA VILLAGE " 20
CHINESE GENERAL MA " 30
ON THE ROAD TO GAUTSA " 30
ROCK SCULPTURES 41
PRAYING-FLAGS AND MANI WALL _to face p._ 54
OFFICERS' TENTS, MOUNTED INFANTRY CAMP, LINGMATHANG " 54
SUBADAR SANGAT SINGH, 1ST MOUNTED INFANTRY " 60
WOUNDED KYANG " 70
GOA, OR TIBETAN GAZELLE " 70
THE TANG LA " 76
PHARI JONG " 76
MOUNTED INFANTRY PONIES, TUNA CAMP " 94
YAK IN EKKA " 94
THE DEPON'S LAST CONFERENCE WITH COLONEL YOUNGHUSBAND _to face p._ 102
TIBETANS RETREATING FROM SANGARS " 106
TURNING TIBETANS OUT OF THE SANGARS ON THE HILLSIDE " 106
DIAGRAMMATIC VIEW OF HOT SPRINGS ACTION " 110
THE TIBETAN DEAD " 118
FIELD-HOSPITAL DOOLIE WITH TIBETAN BEARERS " 118
TIBETAN SOLDIERS " 124
WOUNDED TIBETAN " 130
WOUNDED TIBETAN IN BRITISH HOSPITAL " 130
PIONEERS DESTROYING KANGMA WALL " 142
GYANTSE JONG " 154
GOLDEN-ROOFED TEMPLE, GYANTSE " 182
BUDDHAS IN PALKHOR CHOIDE " 182
TSACHEN MONASTERY " 198
GROUP OF SHAPÉS PARLEYING " 198
SKETCH OF THE KARO LA 213
KHAM PRISONERS _to face p._ 214
GURKHAS CLIMBING AT THE KARO LA " 214
PEHTÉ JONG " 222
GUBCHI JONG " 230
OLD CHAIN-BRIDGE AT CHAKSAM " 236
CROSSING THE TSANGPO " 236
THE POTALA " 244
ENTRY INTO LHASA " 250
CORNER OF COURTYARD OF ASTROLOGER'S TEMPLE, NECHANG _to face p._ 250
THE POTALA, WEST FRONT " 260
MOUNTED INFANTRY GUARD AT THE POTALA " 260
METAL BOWLS OUTSIDE THE JOKHANG " 268
STREET SCENE IN LHASA " 268
THE TSARUNG SHAPÉ " 274
MONGOLIANS IN LHASA " 274
THE TA LAMA " 286
SOLDIER OF THE AMBAN'S ESCORT " 286
COLONEL YOUNGHUSBAND AND THE AMBAN AT THE RACES " 290
THE TSARUNG SHAPÉ AND THE SECHUNG SHAPÉ LEAVING
LHALU HOUSE AFTER THE DURBAR _to face p._ 294
TIBETAN DRAMA PLAYED IN THE COURTYARD OF LHALU HOUSE " 298
THE UNVEILING OF LHASA
CHAPTER I
THE CAUSES OF THE EXPEDITION
The conduct of Great Britain in her relations with Tibet puts me in mind
of the dilemma of a big boy at school who submits to the attacks of a
precocious youngster rather than incur the imputation of 'bully.' At
last the situation becomes intolerable, and the big boy, bully if you
will, turns on the youth and administers the deserved thrashing. There
is naturally a good deal of remonstrance from spectators who have not
observed the byplay which led to the encounter. But sympathy must be
sacrificed to the restitution of fitting and respectful relations.
The aim of this record of an individual's impressions of the recent
Tibetan expedition is to convey some idea of the life we led in Tibet,
the scenes through which we passed, and the strange people we fought and
conquered. We killed several thousand of these brave, ill-armed men; and
as the story of the fighting is not always pleasant reading, I think it
right before describing the punitive side of the expedition to make it
quite clear that military operations were unavoidable--that we were
drawn into the vortex of war against our will by the folly and obstinacy
of the Tibetans.
The briefest review of the rebuffs Great Britain has submitted to during
the last twenty years will suffice to show that, so far from being to
blame in adopting punitive measures, she is open to the charge of
unpardonable weakness in allowing affairs to reach the crisis which made
such punishment necessary.
It must be remembered that Tibet has not always been closed to
strangers. The history of European travellers in Lhasa forms a
literature to itself. Until the end of the eighteenth century only
physical obstacles stood in the way of an entry to the capital. Jesuits
and Capuchins reached Lhasa, made long stays there, and were even
encouraged by the Tibetan Government. The first[1] Europeans to visit
the city and leave an authentic record of their journey were the Fathers
Grueber and d'Orville, who penetrated Tibet from China in 1661 by the
Sining route, and stayed in Lhasa two months. In 1715 the Jesuits
Desideri and Freyre reached Lhasa; Desideri stayed there thirteen years.
In 1719 arrived Horace de la Penna and the Capuchin Mission, who built
a chapel and a hospice, made several converts, and were not finally
expelled till 1740.[2] The Dutchman Van der Putte, first layman to
penetrate to the capital, arrived in 1720, and stayed there some years.
After this we have no record of a European reaching Lhasa until the
adventurous journey in 1811 of Thomas Manning, the first and only
Englishman to reach the city before this year. Manning arrived in the
retinue of a Chinese General whom he had met at Phari Jong, and whose
gratitude he had won for medical services. He remained in the capital
four months, and during his stay he made the acquaintance of several
Chinese and Tibetan officials, and was even presented to the Dalai Lama
himself. The influence of his patron, however, was not strong enough to
insure his safety in the city. He was warned that his life was
endangered, and returned to India by the same way he came. In 1846 the
Lazarist missionaries Huc and Gabet reached Lhasa in the disguise of
Lamas after eighteen months' wanderings through China and Mongolia,
during which they must have suffered as much from privations and
hardships as any travellers who have survived to tell the tale. They
were received kindly by the Amban and Regent, but permission to stay
was firmly refused them on the grounds that they were there to subvert
the religion of the State. Despite the attempts of several determined
travellers, none of whom got within a hundred miles of Lhasa, the
Lazarist fathers were the last Europeans to set foot in the city until
Colonel Younghusband rode through the Pargo Kaling gate on August 4,
1904.
[1] Friar Oderic of Portenone is supposed to have visited Lhasa in
1325, but the authenticity of this record is open to doubt.
[2] When in Lhasa I sought in vain for any trace of these buildings.
The most enlightened Tibetans are ignorant, or pretend to be so,
that Christian missionaries have resided in the city. In the
cathedral, however, we found a bell with the inscription, 'TE
DEUM LAUDAMUS,' which is probably a relic of the Capuchins.
The records of these travellers to Lhasa, and of others who visited
different parts of Tibet before the end of the eighteenth century, do
not point to any serious political obstacles to the admission of
strangers. Two centuries ago, Europeans might travel in remote parts of
Asia with greater safety than is possible to-day. Suspicions have
naturally increased with our encroachments, and the white man now
inspires fear where he used only to awake interest.[3]
[3] Suspicion and jealousy of foreigners seems to have been the
guiding principle both of Tibetans and Chinese even in the
earlier history of the country. The attitude is well illustrated
by a letter written in 1774 by the Regent at Lhasa to the Teshu
Lama with reference to Bogle's mission: 'He had heard of two
Fringies being arrived in the Deb Raja's dominions, with a great
retinue of servants; that the Fringies were fond of war, and
after insinuating themselves into a country raised disturbances
and made themselves masters of it; that as no Fringies had ever
been admitted into Tibet, he advised the Lama to find some method
of sending them back, either on account of the violence of the
small-pox or on any other pretence.'
The policy of strict exclusion in Tibet seems to have been synchronous
with Chinese ascendancy. At the end of the eighteenth century the
Nepalese invaded and overran the country. The Lamas turned to China for
help, and a force of 70,000 men was sent to their assistance. The
Chinese drove the Gurkhas over their frontier, and practically
annihilated their army within a day's march of Khatmandu. From this date
China has virtually or nominally ruled in Lhasa, and an important result
of her intervention has been to sow distrust of the British. She
represented that we had instigated the Nepalese invasion, and warned the
Lamas that the only way to obviate our designs on Tibet was to avoid all
communication with India, and keep the passes strictly closed to
foreigners.
Shortly before the Nepalese War, Warren Hastings had sent the two
missions of Bogle and Turner to Shigatze. Bogle was cordially received
by the Grand Teshu Lama, and an intimate friendship was established
between the two men. On his return to India he reported that the only
bar to a complete understanding with Tibet was the obstinacy of the
Regent and the Chinese agents at Lhasa, who were inspired by Peking. An
attempt was arranged to influence the Chinese Government in the matter,
but both Bogle and the Teshu Lama died before it could be carried out.
Ten years later Turner was despatched to Tibet, and received the same
welcome as his predecessor. Everything pointed to the continuance of a
steady and consistent policy by which the barrier of obstruction might
have been broken down. But Warren Hastings was recalled in 1785, and
Lord Cornwallis, the next Governor-General, took no steps to approach
and conciliate the Tibetans. It was in 1792 that the Tibetan-Nepalese
War broke out, which, owing to the misrepresentations of China,
precluded any possibility of an understanding between India and Tibet.
Such was the uncompromising spirit of the Lamas that, until Lord
Dufferin sanctioned the commercial mission of Mr. Colman Macaulay in
1886, no succeeding Viceroy after Warren Hastings thought it worth while
to renew the attempt to enter into friendly relations with the country.
The Macaulay Mission incident was the beginning of that weak and
abortive policy which lost us the respect of the Tibetans, and led to
the succession of affronts and indignities which made the recent
expedition to Lhasa inevitable. The escort had already advanced into
Sikkim, and Mr. Macaulay was about to join it, when orders were received
from Government for its return. The withdrawal was a concession to the
Chinese, with whom we were then engaged in the delimitation of the
Burmese frontier. This display of weakness incited the Tibetans to such
a pitch of vanity and insolence that they invaded our territory and
established a military post at Lingtu, only seventy miles from
Darjeeling.
We allowed the invaders to remain in the protected State of Sikkim two
years before we made any reprisal. In 1888, after several vain appeals
to China to use her influence to withdraw the Tibetan troops, we
reluctantly decided on a military expedition. The Tibetans were driven
from their position, defeated in three separate engagements, and pursued
over the frontier as far as Chumbi. We ought to have concluded a treaty
with them on the spot, when we were in a position to enforce it, but we
were afraid of offending the susceptibilities of China, whose suzerainty
over Tibet we still recognised, though she had acknowledged her
inability to restrain the Tibetans from invading our territory. At the
conclusion of the campaign, in which the Tibetans showed no military
instincts whatever, we returned to our post at Gnatong, on the Sikkim
frontier.
After two years of fruitless discussion, a convention was drawn up
between Great Britain and China, by which Great Britain's exclusive
control over the internal administration and foreign relations of Sikkim
was recognised, the Sikkim-Tibet boundary was defined, and both Powers
undertook to prevent acts of aggression from their respective sides of
the frontier. The questions of pasturage, trade facilities, and the
method in which official communications should be conducted between the
Government of India and the authorities at Lhasa were deferred for
future discussion. Nearly three more years passed before the trade
regulations were drawn up in Darjeeling--in December, 1903. The
negociations were characterized by the same shuffling and equivocation
on the part of the Chinese, and the same weak-kneed policy of
forbearance and conciliation on the part of the British. Treaty and
regulations were alike impotent, and our concessions went so far that we
exacted nothing as the fruit of our victory over the Tibetans--not even
a fraction of the cost of the campaign.
Our ignorance of the Tibetans, their Government, and their relations
with China was at this time so profound that we took our cue from the
Chinese, who always referred to the Lhasa authorities as 'the
barbarians.' The Shata Shapé, the most influential of the four members
of Council, attended the negociations on behalf of the Tibetans. He was
officially ignored, and no one thought of asking him to attach his
signature to the treaty. The omission was a blunder of far-reaching
consequences. Had we realized that Chinese authority was practically
non-existent in Lhasa, and that the temporal affairs of Tibet were
mainly directed by the four Shapés and the Tsong-du (the very existence
of which, by the way, was unknown to us), we might have secured a
diplomatic agent in the Shata Shapé who would have proved invaluable to
us in our future relations with the country. Unfortunately, during his
stay in Darjeeling the Shapé's feelings were lacerated by ill-treatment
as well as neglect. In an unfortunate encounter with British youth,
which was said to have arisen from his jostling an English lady off the
path, he was taken by the scruff of the neck and ducked in the public
fountain. So he returned to Tibet with no love for the English, and
after certain courteous overtures from the agents of 'another Power,'
became a confirmed, though more or less accidental, Russophile. Though
deposed,[4] he has at the present moment a large following among the
monks of the Gaden monastery.
[4] The Shata Shapé and his three colleagues were deposed by the
Dalai Lama in October, 1903.
In the regulations of 1893 it was stipulated that a trade mart should be
established at Yatung, a small hamlet six miles beyond our frontier. The
place is obviously unsuitable, situated as it is in a narrow pine-clad
ravine, where one can throw a stone from cliff to cliff across the
valley. No traders have ever resorted there, and the Tibetans have
studiously boycotted the place. To show their contempt for the treaty,
and their determination to ignore it, they built a wall a quarter of a
mile beyond the Customs House, through which no Tibetan or British
subject was allowed to pass, and, to nullify the object of the mart, a
tax of 10 per cent. on Indian goods was levied at Phari. Every attempt
was made by Sheng Tai, the late Amban, to induce the Tibetans to
substitute Phari for Yatung as a trade mart. But, as an official report
admits, 'it was found impossible to overcome their reluctance. Yatung
was eventually accepted both by the Chinese and British Governments as
the only alternative to breaking off the negociations altogether.' This
confession of weakness appears to me abject enough to quote as typical
of our attitude throughout. In deference to Tibetan wishes, we allowed
nearly every clause of the treaty to be separately stultified.
The Tibetans, as might be expected, met our forbearance by further
rebuffs. Not content with evading their treaty obligations in respect to
trade, they proceeded to overthrow our boundary pillars, violate grazing
rights, and erect guard-houses at Giagong, in Sikkim territory. When
called to question they repudiated the treaty, and said that it had
never been shown them by the Amban. It had not been sealed or confirmed
by any Tibetan representative, and they had no intention of observing
it.
Once more the 'solemn farce' was enacted of an appeal to China to use
her influence with the Lhasa authorities. And it was only after repeated
representations had been made by the Indian Government to the Secretary
of State that the Home Government realized the seriousness of the
situation, and the hopelessness of making any progress through the
agency of China. 'We seem,' said Lord Curzon, 'in respect to our policy
in Tibet, to be moving in a vicious circle. If we apply to Tibet we
either receive no reply or are referred to the Chinese Resident; if we
apply to the latter, he excuses his failure by his inability to put any
pressure upon Tibet.' In the famous despatch of January 8, 1903, the
Viceroy described the Chinese suzerainty as 'a political fiction,' only
maintained because of its convenience to both parties. China no doubt is
capable of sending sufficient troops to Lhasa to coerce the Tibetans.
But it has suited her book to maintain the present elusive and anomalous
relations with Tibet, which are a securer buttress to her western
dependencies against encroachment than the strongest army corps. For
many years we have been the butt of the Tibetans, and China their
stalking-horse.
The Tibetan attitude was clearly expressed by the Shigatze officials at
Khamba Jong in September last year, when they openly boasted that 'where
Chinese policy was in accordance with their own views they were ready
enough to accept the Amban's advice; but if this advice ran counter in
any respect to their national prejudices, the Chinese Emperor himself
would be powerless to influence them.' China has on several occasions
confessed her inability to coerce the Tibetans. She has proved herself
unable to enforce the observance of treaties or even to restrain her
subjects from invading our territory, and during the recent attempts at
negociations she had to admit that her representative in Lhasa was
officially ignored, and not even allowed transport to travel in the
country. In the face of these facts her exceedingly shadowy suzerainty
may be said to have entirely evaporated, and it is unreasonable to
expect us to continue our relations with Tibet through the medium of
Peking.
It was not until nine years after the signing of the convention that we
made any attempt to open direct communications with the Tibetans
themselves. It is astonishing that we allowed ourselves to be hoodwinked
so long. But this policy of drift and waiting is characteristic of our
foreign relations all over the world. British Cabinets seem to believe
that cure is better than prevention, and when faced by a dilemma have
seldom been known to act on the initiative, or take any decided course
until the very existence of their dependency is imperilled.
In 1901 Lord Curzon was permitted to send a despatch to the Dalai Lama
in which it was pointed out that his Government had consistently defied
and ignored treaty rights; and in view of the continued occupation of
British territory, the destruction of frontier pillars, and the
restrictions imposed on Indian trade, we should be compelled to resort
to more practical measures to enforce the observance of the treaty,
should he remain obstinate in his refusal to enter into friendly
relations. The letter was returned unopened, with the verbal excuse that
the Chinese did not permit him to receive communications from any
foreign Power. Yet so great was our reluctance to resort to military
coercion that we might even at this point have let things drift, and
submitted to the rebuffs of these impossible Tibetans, had not the
Dalai Lama chosen this moment for publicly flaunting his relations with
Russia.
The second[5] Tibetan Mission reached St. Petersburg in June, 1901,
carrying autograph letters and presents to the Czar from the Dalai Lama.
Count Lamsdorff declared that the mission had no political significance
whatever. We were asked to believe that these Lamas travelled many
thousand miles to convey a letter that expressed the hope that the
Russian Foreign Minister was in good health and prosperous, and informed
him that the Dalai Lama was happy to be able to say that he himself
enjoyed excellent health.
[5] A previous mission had been received by the Czar at Livadia in
October, 1900.
It is possible that the mission to St. Petersburg was of a purely
religious character, and that there was no secret understanding at the
time between the Lhasa authorities and Russia. Yet the fact that the
mission was despatched in direct contradiction to the national policy of
isolation that had been respected for over a century, and at a time when
the Tibetans were aware of impending British activity to exact
fulfilment of the treaty obligations so long ignored by them, points to
some secret influence working in Lhasa in favour of Russia, and opposed
to British interests. The process of Russification that has been carried
on with such marked success in Persia and Turkestan, Merv and Bokhara,
was being applied in Tibet. It has long been known to our Intelligence
Department that certain Buriat Lamas, subjects of the Czar, and educated
in Russia, have been acting as intermediaries between Lhasa and St.
Petersburg. The chief of these, one Dorjieff, headed the so-called
religious mission of 1901, and has been employed more than once as the
Dalai Lama's ambassador to St. Petersburg. Dorjieff is a man of
fifty-eight, who has spent some twenty years of his life in Lhasa, and
is known to be the right-hand adviser of the Dalai Lama. No doubt
Dorjieff played on the fears of the Buddhist Pope until he really
believed that Tibet was in danger of an invasion from India, in which
eventuality the Czar, the great Pan-Buddhist Protector, would descend on
the British and drive them back over the frontier. The Lamas of Tibet
imagine that Russia is a Buddhist country, and this belief has been
fostered by adventurers like Dorjieff, Tsibikoff, and others, who have
inspired dreams of a consolidated Buddhist church under the spiritual
control of the Dalai Lama and the military ægis of the Czar of All the
Russias.
These dreams, full of political menace to ourselves, have, I think, been
dispelled by Lord Curzon's timely expedition to Lhasa. The presence of
the British in the capital and the helplessness of Russia to lend any
aid in such a crisis are facts convincing enough to stultify the effects
of Russian intrigue in Buddhist Central Asia during the last
half-century.
The fact that the first Dalai Lama who has been allowed to reach
maturity has plunged his country into war by intrigue with a foreign
Power proves the astuteness of the cold-blooded policy of removing the
infant Pope, and the investiture of power in the hands of a Regent
inspired by Peking. It is believed that the present Dalai Lama was
permitted to come of age in order to throw off the Chinese yoke. This
aim has been secured, but it has involved other issues that the Lamas
could not foresee.
And here it must be observed that the Dalai Lama's inclination towards
Russia does not represent any considerable national movement. The desire
for a rapprochement was largely a matter of personal ambition inspired
by that arch-intriguer Dorjieff, whose ascendancy over the Dalai Lama
was proved beyond a doubt when the latter joined him in his flight to
Mongolia on hearing the news of the British advance on Lhasa. Dorjieff
had a certain amount of popularity with the priest population of the
capital, and the monks of the three great monasteries, amongst whom he
is known to have distributed largess royally. But the traditional policy
of isolation is so inveterately ingrained in the Tibetan character that
it is doubtful if he could have organized a popular party of any
strength.
It may be asked, then, What is, or was, the nature of the Russian menace
in Tibet? It is true that a Russian invasion on the North-East frontier
is out of the question. For to reach the Indian passes the Russians
would have to traverse nearly 1,500 miles of almost uninhabited country,
presenting difficulties as great as any we had to contend with during
the recent campaign. But the establishment of Russian influence in Lhasa
might mean military danger of another kind. It would be easy for her to
stir up the Tibetans, spread disaffection among the Bhutanese, send
secret agents into Nepal, and generally undermine our prestige. Her aim
would be to create a diversion on the Tibet frontier at any time she
might have designs on the North-West. The pioneers of the movement had
begun their work. They were men of the usual type--astute, insidious, to
be disavowed in case of premature discovery, or publicly flaunted when
they had prepared any ground on which to stand.
Our countermove--the Tibet Expedition--must have been a crushing and
unexpected blow to Russia. For the first time in modern history Great
Britain had taken a decisive, almost high-handed, step to obviate a
danger that was far from imminent. We had all the best cards in our
hands. Russia's designs in Lhasa became obvious at a time when we could
point to open defiance on the part of the Tibetans, and provocation such
as would have goaded any other European nation to a punitive expedition
years before. We could go to Lhasa, apparently without a thought of
Russia, and yet undo all the effects of her scheming there, and deal
her prestige a blow that would be felt throughout the whole of Central
Asia. Such was Lord Curzon's policy. It was adopted in a half-hearted
way by the Home Government, and eventually forced on them by the conduct
of the Tibetans themselves. Needless to say, the discovery of Russian
designs was the real and prime cause of the despatch of the mission,
while Tibet's violation of treaty rights and refusal to enter into any
relations with us were convenient as ostensible motives. It cannot be
denied that these grievances were valid enough to justify the strongest
measures.
In June, 1903, came the announcement of Colonel Younghusband's mission
to Khamba Jong. I do not think that the Indian Government ever expected
that the Tibetans would come to any agreement with us at Khamba Jong. It
is to their credit that they waited patiently several months in order to
give them every chance of settling things amicably. However, as might
have been expected, the Commission was boycotted. Irresponsible
delegates of inferior rank were sent by the Tibetans and Chinese, and
the Lhasa delegates, after some fruitless parleyings, shut themselves up
in the fort, and declined all intercourse, official or social, with the
Commissioners.[6]
[6] Their attitude was thus summed up by Captain O'Connor, secretary
to the mission: 'We cannot accept letters; we cannot write
letters; we cannot let you into our zone; we cannot let you
travel; we cannot discuss matters, because this is not the proper
place; go back to Giogong and send away all your soldiers, and we
will come to an agreement' (Tibetan Blue-Book).
At the end of August news came that the Tibetans were arming. Colonel
Younghusband learnt that they had made up their minds to have no
negociations with us _inside_ Tibet. They had decided to leave us alone
at Khamba Jong, and to oppose us by force if we attempted to advance
further. They believed themselves fully equal to the English, and far
from our getting anything out of them, they thought that they would be
able to force something out of us. This is not surprising when we
consider the spirit of concession in which we had met them on previous
occasions.
At Khamba Jong the Commissioners were informed by Colonel Chao, the
Chinese delegate, that the Tibetans were relying on Russian assistance.
This was confirmed later at Guru by the Tibetan officials, who boasted
that if they were defeated they would fall back on another Power.
In September the Tibetans aggravated the situation by seizing and
beating at Shigatze two British subjects of the Lachung Valley in
Sikkim. These men were not restored to liberty until we had forced our
way to Lhasa and demanded their liberation, twelve months afterwards.
The mission remained in its ignominious position at Khamba Jong until
its recall in November. Almost at the same time the expedition to
Gyantse was announced.[7]
[7] The situation was thus eloquently summarized by the Government of
India in a despatch to Mr. Brodrick, November 5, 1903: 'It is not
possible that the Tibet Government should be allowed to ignore
its treaty obligations, thwart trade, encroach upon our
territory, destroy our boundary pillars, and refuse even to
receive our communications. Still less do we think that when an
amicable conference has been arranged for the settlement of these
difficulties we should acquiesce in our mission being boycotted
by the very persons who have been deputed to meet it, our
officers insulted, our subjects arrested and ill-used, and our
authority despised by a petty Power which only mistakes our
forbearance for weakness, and which thinks that by an attitude of
obstinate inertia it can once again compel us, as it has done in
the past, to desist from our intentions.'
In the face of the gross and deliberate affront to which we had been
subjected at Khamba Jong it was now, of course, impossible to withdraw
from Tibetan territory until we had impressed on the Lamas the necessity
of meeting us in a reasonable spirit. It was clear that the Tibetans
meant fighting, and the escort had to be increased to 2,500 men. The
patience of Government was at last exhausted, and it was decided that
the mission was to proceed into Tibet, dictate terms to the Lamas, and,
if necessary, enforce compliance. The advance to Gyantse was sanctioned
in the first place. But it was quite expected that the obstinacy of the
Tibetans would make it necessary to push on to Lhasa.
Colonel Younghusband crossed the Jelap la into Tibet on December 13,
meeting with no opposition. Phari Jong was reached on the 20th, and the
fort surrendered without a shot being fired. Thence the mission
proceeded on January 7 across the Tang Pass, and took up its quarters on
the cold, wind-swept plateau of Tuna, at an elevation of 15,300 feet.
Here it remained for three months, while preparations were being made
for an advance in the spring. Four companies of the 23rd Pioneers, a
machine-gun section of the Norfolk Regiment, and twenty Madras sappers,
were left to garrison the place, and General Macdonald, with the
remainder of the force, returned to Chumbi for winter quarters. Chumbi
(10,060 feet) is well within the wood belt, but even here the
thermometer falls to 15° below zero.
A more miserable place to winter in than Tuna cannot be imagined. But
for political reasons, it was inadvisable that the mission should spend
the winter in the Chumbi Valley, which is not geographically a part of
Tibet proper. A retrograde movement from Khamba Jong to Chumbi would be
interpreted by the Tibetans as a sign of yielding, and strengthen them
in their opinion that we had no serious intention of penetrating to
Gyantse.
With this brief account of the facts that led to the expedition I
abandon politics for the present, and in the succeeding chapters will
attempt to give a description of the Chumbi Valley, which, I believe,
was untrodden by any European before Colonel Younghusband's arrival in
December, 1903.
I was in India when I received permission to join the force. I took the
train to Darjeeling without losing a day, and rode into Chumbi in less
than forty-eight hours, reaching the British camp on January 10.