RESIDENCE AT LHASA.
Preceded by Pador carrying his long lance and by Tsing-ta driving the
pack-pony, we entered the city. The policemen (korchagpa) [233] marked
us as new-comers, but none of them questioned us. My head drooped with
fatigue, my eyes were hidden by dark goggles, and the red pagri around
my head made me look like a Ladaki. Some people standing in front of a
Chinese pastry shop said, as I passed, “Look! there comes another sick
man; small-pox has affected his eyes. The city is full of them. What an
awful time for Tibet!”
After a few minutes’ ride we came to the Yu-tog zamba, a short stone
bridge with a gate, where a guard commanded by a lama is stationed,
which examines all passers-by to ascertain the object of their visit to
the city. To the great delight of my companions, who had been most
anxious about my getting over the bridge, we passed by without a
question being asked us.
Near the bridge I noticed the doring, [234] a monolith on which is an
inscription in Tibetan and Chinese. Though a thousand years old, the
stone has been but little affected by the weather, and the characters
can be easily read. The monolith I took to be between eight and ten
feet in height, and it stands on a low pedestal.
At the Yu-tog zamba the city proper begins. The street on both sides
was lined with native and Chinese shops; in front of each was a
pyramidal structure, where juniper spines and dried leaves obtained
from Tsari are burnt as an offering to the gods.
Coming to the street to the south of Kyil-khording, [235] we found on
either side of it Nepalese shops several stories high, also Chinese
ones, where silk fabrics, porcelain, and various kinds of brick-tea
were exposed for sale.
A lama guided us from this street to the Bangye-shag, a castle-like
building three stories high, the residence of Sawang Phala, the husband
of my protectress, the Lhacham. Leaving me at the postern gate, my two
companions went in and presented the lady with a khatag, and she
directed them to take me to Paljor rabtan, a building belonging to the
Tashi lama, where all officers and monks from Tashilhunpo find lodgings
when in Lhasa, and where we would be given accommodations.
The gateway of Paljor rabtan was about eight or nine feet high and five
feet broad, and from the lintels fluttered fringes about a foot and a
half broad. [236] Two stout flag-poles 20 to 25 feet high, carrying
inscribed banners, stood on either side of it. Ascending a steep
staircase, or rather a ladder, we came to a verandah, opposite which
was a pretty glazed house, the dwelling of the khang-nyer (or
“house-keeper”), and were soon given by him a room to lodge in, and
served with tea and chang by an old woman. From the window of our room
we could see the damra, or grove of poplars and willows in a marshy bit
of land adjacent to the Tangye-ling monastery, and further west shone
the lofty gilt spires of Potala.
May 31.—The heavy shower which had fallen last evening cleared up the
atmosphere, and the gilt domes and spires glittering in the morning sun
filled me with delight, and I had difficulty in subduing my impatience
to visit all the monuments now before me, and of which I had dreamed of
for so many years. At 7 o’clock Pador brought me a pot of tea prepared
in the house of the water-carrier; but, instead of butter, tallow had
been used in its preparation, and I could not swallow it; [237] but we
managed, after a while, to make some in our own room. Shortly after
Tsing-ta came in, bringing a pair of rugs, two cushions, and two little
tables he had borrowed at the Bangye-shag. He had also an invitation
from the Lhacham to visit her in the afternoon.
Having shaved and donned my lama costume and goggles, we started for
Bangye-shag, which was about a mile from our lodgings. Most of the
shops we saw were kept by Kashmiris, Nepalese, or Chinese; the Tibetan
ones were few and poorly supplied.
Bangye-shag is a lofty, flat-roofed stone building with two large
gateways. The ground floor is used as storerooms and quarters for the
amlas or retainers of the Phala estates. The beams, the cornices, as
also the window-frames, are painted red; a few of the windows have a
little pane of glass in them, but most of them are covered with paper.
On reaching the second floor, the Lhacham’s maids (shetama) greeted me
most kindly, and insisted on my taking a cup or two of tea, after which
they led me to her ladyship’s room, where, taking off my hat, I
presented her a visiting scarf (jadar) and a piece of gold of about a
dzo weight. [238] Making motion to one of her maids to present me a
scarf, she kindly wished me welcome (“Chyag-peb nang chig, Pundib la”),
and bade me take a seat (“Pundib la, shu dang shag, shu dang shag”).
After conversing with her a while about my recent illness, and telling
her of the kindness of the Dorje Phagmo, that merciful Lady of the Lake
to whom I owe my life, I took my leave and returned home.
June 1.—June 1 is the holiest day of the year, saga dawa, [239] the day
of the Buddha’s nirvāna, and incense was burnt on every hilltop, in
every shrine, chapel, lamasery, and house in or near Lhasa. Men, women,
and children hastened to the sacred shrine of Kyil-khording (or Jo
khang, as it is commonly called), to do puja to the Jo-vo (“Lord
Buddha”) and obtain his blessing. All carried in their hands bundles of
incense-sticks, bowls of butter, and khatag of all sizes and qualities.
Our fellow-lodgers went with the rest, calling at my room on the way
out, and in a short time we also joined the crowd.
A broad street runs in front of the Jo khang, and the road which comes
from the Pargo kaling gate terminates on its western face, and here
grows a tall poplar said to have sprung from the hair of the Buddha.
Beside this is the ancient stone tablet erected by the Tibetans in the
ninth century to commemorate their victory over the Chinese, and which
gives the text of the treaty then concluded between the Emperor of
China and King Ralpachan. [240]
The magnificent temple engrossed, however, all my attention. In front
of it is a tall flag-pole, at the base of which hang two yak-tails,
some inscriptions, and a number of yak- and sheep-horns. In the
propylon of the chief temple (Tsang khang), the heavy wooden pillars of
which are three to four feet in circumference, and about twelve feet
high, upwards of a hundred monks were making prostrations before the
image of the Lord (Jo-vo) on a throne facing the west. This famous
image of the Buddha, known as Jo-vo rinpoche, is said to have been made
in Magadha during the lifetime of the great teacher. [241] Visvakarma
is supposed to have made it, under the guidance of the god Indra, of an
alloy of the five precious substances, gold, silver, zinc, iron, and
copper, and the “five precious celestial substances,” probably
diamonds, rubies, lapis-lazuli, emeralds, and indranila.
The legend goes on to say that the image was in the first place sent
from India to the capital of China in return for the assistance the
Emperor had given the King of Magadha against the Yavanas from the
west. When the Princess Konjo, daughter of the Emperor Tai-tsung, was
given in marriage to the King of Tibet, she brought the image to Lhasa
as a portion of her dowry.
The image is life-size and exquisitely modelled, and represents a
handsome young prince. The crown on its head is said to be the gift of
Tsong-khapa, the great reformer. The Kunyer said that the image
represented the Buddha when at the age of twelve; hence the princely
apparel in which he is clothed and the dissimilarity of the image to
those seen elsewhere. [242] On the four sides of it were gilt pillars
with dragons twined around them, supporting a canopy. On one side of
the image of the Buddha is that of Maitreya, and on the other that of
Dipankara Buddha. [243] Behind this, again, is the image of the Buddha
Gang-chan wogyal, and to the right and left of the latter those of the
twelve chief disciples of the Buddha.
We were also shown the image of the great reformer, Tsong-khapa, near
which is the famous rock, called Amolonkha, discovered by Tsong-khapa.
[244] On this rock is placed the bell with a gem in the handle,
supposed to have been used by Maudgalyayana, the chief disciple of the
Buddha.
After the image of the Buddha, the most celebrated statue in this
temple is that of Avalokiteswara with the eleven faces (Shen-re-zig
chu-chig dzal). It is said that once King Srong-btsan gambo heard a
voice saying that if he made a full-sized image of Shenrezig, all his
wishes would be granted him; so he constructed this one, in the
composition of which there entered a branch of the sacred Bo tree, some
soil of an island in the great ocean, some sand from the River
Nairanjana, [245] some gosirsha sandalwood, some soil from the eight
sacred places of India, and many other rare and valuable substances.
All these were first powdered, then, having been moistened with the
milk of a red cow and a goat, made into a paste and moulded into a
statue. To give it additional sanctity, the king had a sandalwood image
of the god brought from Ceylon put inside of it.
This statue is also known as the “five self-created” (nya rang chyung);
for the Nepalese sculptor who made it said that it had sprung into
shape rather than had been moulded by him, and it is further said that
the souls of King Srong-btsan gambo and his consorts were absorbed in
it. It occupies the northern chapel in the temple, and is surrounded by
the images of a number of gods and goddesses.
In the outer courtyard of the temple is a row of statues, among which
is that of King Srong-btsan gambo and various saints and Pundits. On
the porch of the Tsang-khang are images of the Buddhas of the past,
present, and future. Innumerable other highly interesting images and
votive offerings were shown us, among which I will mention a hundred
and eight lamps made out of stone under Tsong-khapa’s directions.
Among the other objects of interest shown us was a stone slab (Padma
pung-pa) which King Srong-btsan gambo and his wives were wont to use as
a seat when taking their baths, and a life-size statue of Tsong-khapa
surrounded by images of gods, saints, and worthies. In the room where
these statues are seen, and which is closed by a wire lattice, is also
a famous image of the god Chyag-na dorje (Vajrapani). When the
iconoclast King Langdarma [246] began persecuting Buddhism, he ordered
this image to be destroyed. A valet tied a rope around its neck to drag
it from the temple, but he suddenly became insane, and died vomiting
blood, and the image was left undisturbed.
In the outer court, or khyamra, [247] is the image of the god Tovo
Metsig-pa, [248] by whose power the invading armies of China were
routed in the war which immediately followed the death of King
Srong-btsan gambo. Near it are statues of the king and his two
consorts, and some huge yak-horns, of which the following anecdote is
told to inquisitive pilgrims by the temple servants (kunyer).
Ra-chung-pa, a disciple of the great saint Milarapa, [249] had been to
India, and had there studied under the most learned masters all the
mysteries of the faith, and had returned to Tibet filled with pride
over his knowledge. Travelling to Lhasa with his master, they reached
the middle of the desert called Palmoi-paltang, when Milarapa, who knew
of the conceit of his disciple and wished to teach him a lesson,
ordered him to fetch him a pair of yak horns lying near by. But
Ra-chung-pa said to himself, “The master wants everything he sees.
Sometimes he is as fretful as an old dog, at others as full of childish
fancies as an old man in his dotage. Of what possible use can the horns
be to him; he can neither use them for food, drink, nor clothing?” Then
he asked the sage what he proposed doing with them. “Though it is not
possible to say what may occur,” replied Milarapa, “they will certainly
be of use some time or other;” and he picked them up himself and
carried them along.
After a while a violent hailstorm overtook the travellers, and there
was not so much as a rat-hole in which they could find shelter.
Ra-chung-pa covered his head with his gown, and sat on the ground till
the storm had passed by. When he searched for the lama, he could see
him nowhere; but he heard a voice, and, looking about, lo! there was
Milarapa seated inside one of the horns. “If the son is the equal of
the father, then,” said the saint, “let him seat himself inside the
other horn;” but it was too small to even serve Ra-chung-pa for a hat.
Then Milarapa came out of the horn, and Ra-chung-pa carried them to
Lhasa, and presented them to the Jo-vo. [250]
After visiting all the ground floor we climbed up to the second and
third stories, where we were shown a number of other images, among
which I noticed that of Paldan lhamo. By the time we had seen all the
images we had exhausted our supply of butter, for Pador had put a
little in every lamp lighted that day in the chapels. Those before the
image of the Jo-vo were of gold, and each must have held ten or twelve
pounds of butter.
By the time we reached our lodgings I was completely worn out, and
passed the rest of the day in my rooms or on the housetop, the view
from which always charmed me, especially when the rays of the setting
sun shone brightly on the gilded domes of the temples and palaces.
I was much troubled in my mind by hearing from Tsing-ta that small-pox
was raging in town, even the keeper of our house, his wife and
children, were down with the disease, and in every dwelling in the
neighbourhood some one was ill with it.
On the following morning (June 2), after an early breakfast, I went to
visit the famous shrine of Ramoche, [251] carrying, as on the previous
day, a bundle of incense-sticks, some butter and khatags. We took a
horribly muddy lane, where heaps of filth emitted a most offensive
odour; then, turning northward, we crossed the Potala road at the
north-west corner of the Tomse-gang, as the Kyil-khording square is
commonly called, and passed by the lofty Wangdu chorten, which was
built to bring under the power (wang, “power;” du, “to subjugate”) of
Tibet all the neighbouring nations. This spot is also called Gya-bum
gang, for it is said that once during the Ming dynasty of China 100,000
(gya-bum) Chinese troops camped (gang) on the plain to the north of
this chorten. Other accounts explain this name by saying that in the
war with China, after the death of King Srong-btsan gambo, 100,000
Chinamen were killed in a battle near this spot. [252]
A few hundred paces beyond this place we reached the gate of Ramoche,
the famous temple erected by the illustrious Konjo, [253] daughter of
the Emperor Tai-tsung, and wife of King Srong-btsan gambo. It is a
flat-roofed edifice three stories high, and has a wide portico. At the
front of the building there is to be seen a very ancient inscription in
Chinese, giving probably the history of the building of the temple. The
image of Mikyod dorje (Vajra Akshobhya), brought here by King
Srong-btsan’s second wife, a Nepalese princess, is of undoubted
antiquity, even though the face of the statue is covered with gilding.
In the northern lobby are heaps of relics—shields, spears, drums,
arrows, swords, and trumpets, and in a room to the left of the
entrance, and shut in by an iron lattice, are a few very holy images.
With the exception of a very small gilt dome built in Chinese style, I
saw nothing strongly indicative of that description of architecture,
and, taking it all together, Ramoche fell far short of the preconceived
idea I had formed of it. [254]
Lay monks, or Serkempa, usually perform the services held at Ramoche,
and half a dozen of them and a kunyer (sexton) live in the upper
stories of the temple.
As we left the temple we were met by a party of singing beggars, who
followed us to our house clamouring for solra, or alms; finally we sent
them off with a karma, or the value of two annas. Had we given more we
would have been persecuted by numerous other parties of these pests.
June 3.—A lama of Khams, whom I had met at Tashilhunpo, came to see me
to-day. He told me that he was waiting for nine loads of silver from
Tashilhunpo, on the arrival of which he would leave for Western China,
coming back to Lhasa next March or April. I had heard at Tashilhunpo
that he had a caravan of 700 mules, and carried on trade between
Darchendo [255] and Lhasa. This Pomda [256] lama was a man of gigantic
stature, something over six feet, well proportioned, and of great
strength; he was well known to brigands, and none dared molest him. My
further acquaintance with him confirmed me in the opinion I had formed
of the Khambas. Though they are wild, they are devoted friends, and
when once one becomes intimate with one of them, he will be faithful to
the end.
I heard to-day the following story about the famous Regent Tsomoling
and his social reforms: Once there came to Lhasa a lama pilgrim from
Tsoni, in Amdo, [257] and he was admitted into the Sera convent, where
he studied under a learned Mongol lama. After a few years the Amdo
lama’s tutor returned to his home, and on parting he left his pupil a
couple of earthen pots, a khatag, and a bag of barley, the most
valuable things he possessed, as he told him. The pupil, disappointed
with these gifts, carried the pots to the market and sold them for half
a tanka, with which he bought butter that he put in the lamps burning
before the great image of the lord (Jo-vo), praying that if he ever
became Regent of Tibet, he might be able to reform the social customs
of the country.
In the course of time he rose to the dignity of a teacher in his
convent; then he became its abbot, or khanpo; and finally he rose to
the rank of regent. One of the first acts of his administration was to
expel all public women from Lhasa, and to compel all women to cover
their faces with a coating of catechu, so as to hide their comeliness
from the public view. [258] Women were also made to wear a bangle cut
out of a conch-shell on their right wrist, by which they could be held
when arrested. From his time also dates the use by women of aprons
(pang-den) and of the present style of headdress, or patug. The old
style of patug is now only worn by the wives (or Lhacham) of the Shape
(ministers). He was the first of the Tsomoling lamas, and his
reincarnations still inhabit the lamasery of that name behind Ramoche.
On June 4 I again visited the Jo khang. [259] After paying reverence to
the Jo-vo and circumambulating his sacred throne, the kunyer poured
some holy water (tu) into my hand from a golden vessel. In a little
chorten in one of the chapels on the south side of the temple is kept a
statue of red bell-metal, or li-mar, made, so says tradition, in the
days of King Kriki, when men lived 20,000 years. For many centuries it
was kept by the kings of Nepal; but when a princess from that country
married King Srong-btsan gambo, she brought it to Tibet, and placed it
in this temple, where it is the object of constant worship.
But perhaps the most revered of all the images in the Jo khang,
exclusive of that of the Jo, is that of Paldan lhamo (Srimati devi).
The terrifying face of the goddess is kept veiled, but the kunyer
uncovered it for us. This terrific goddess is regarded as the guardian
of the Dalai and Tashi lamas. The chestnut-coloured mule she rides, the
offspring of a red ass and a winged mare, was given her by the goddess
of the sea. The saddle she sits on is the skin of an ogre, and the
bridle and crupper are vipers. Kya dorje gave her dice with which to
play for lives, and the ogres, or Srinpo, presented her a string of
skulls, which she holds in her left hand, and the goblins that haunt
graveyards gave her corpses, on which she feeds. In her right hand she
holds a club given her by the god Chyagna-dorje. ’Twas in such fearful
attire that she waged war against the foes of Buddhism, and became the
greatest of all its guardian deities.
The chapel of Paldan lhamo is overrun by mice, so tame that they
crawled up the kunyer’s body. They are supposed to have been lamas in
former existences. On one of the walls we saw a painting made with the
blood of King Srong-btsan.
As we were walking home I saw some men hawking books, and told them
what works I would buy if they could but procure them for me. They
promised to bring them to me shortly.
The excellent brick-tea (du tang-nyipa) which I had brought from
Tashilhunpo was now exhausted, and I was reduced to drinking a
miserable quality known as gya-pa. Du tang, or first-quality tea, is
more highly flavoured than the quality I liked, but it was too strong
for me.
Tea was introduced into Tibet earlier than the tenth century, but it
only became of universal use from the time of the Sakya hierarchy and
the Phagmodu kings. [260] During the early part of the Dalai lama’s
rule the tea trade was a governmental monopoly, and since the beginning
of the present century, though nominally open to every one, the trade
is practically in the hands of the officials.
Some notes on the mode of selection of incarnate lamas may not be out
of place here. It used to be customary when selecting incarnate lamas
to either decide by throwing dice or by some other trial of luck, or by
taking the opinion of the College of Cardinals; but that method not
giving perfect satisfaction, it was decided that the candidates should
undergo certain examinations, which, together with the hints thrown out
from time to time by the defunct incarnation as to where and when his
successor would be found, helped in the determination of the lawful
reincarnation.
From the middle of the seventeenth century down to 1860, when the Dalai
lama, Tinle-gyatso, was chosen, the rightful reincarnation of a defunct
saint was found out by the use of the golden jar, or ser-bum. [261]
Three years after the death of an incarnate lama the names of the
different children, who it was claimed were his reincarnation, were
taken down. These names, in the case of the Dalai or Tashi lamas, were
sent to the regent for examination, after which the president of the
conclave, in the presence of the Regent and the ministers, enclosed in
tsamba balls slips of paper, on each of which was written the name of a
candidate. In other tsamba balls were slips on which was written “yes”
or “no,” as well as some blank slips. All these were put together in a
golden jar, which was placed on the altar of the principal chapel of
Lhasa, and for a week the gods were invoked. On the eighth day the jar
was twirled round a certain number of times, and the name which fell
out three times, together with a pellet in which was a slip inscribed
“yes,” was declared the true reincarnation. Those who were sent to
bring the reincarnated saint to Lhasa or Tashilhunpo submitted him to
certain trials; as, for example, picking out from a number of similar
objects the rosary, the rings, cup, and mitre of the deceased lama.
[262]
In 1875, a year after the death of the Dalai lama Tinle-gyatso, the
regent and the College of Cardinals consulted the celebrated Nachung
Chos-gyong oracle [263] about the Dalai’s reappearance, and the oracle
declared that the reincarnation could only be discovered by a monk of
the purest morals. It required, again, the supernatural powers of the
oracle to find the future discoverer of the Grand Lama; he was the
Shar-tse Khanpo of Gadan, a lama of great saintliness and profound
knowledge. The oracle further stated that he should go to Choskhor-gya,
as the reincarnation was to be found somewhere near Kong-po. [264] The
Khanpo went there accordingly, and sat in deep meditation for seven
days, when, on the night of the last day, he had a vision and heard a
voice which directed him to repair to the Mu-li-ding-ki tso (lake) of
Choskhor. Awakening from his sleep, the Khanpo went to the lake, where,
on the crystal surface of the water, he saw the image of the incarnate
Grand Lama seated in his mother’s lap, and his father fondling him. The
house, its furniture, all was shown him. Suddenly the image
disappeared, and he set out at once for Kong-po. On the way he stopped
in Tag-po at the house of a respectable and wealthy family, and at once
he recognized the child and all the images seen in his dream. He
promptly informed the Government at Lhasa, and the regent and the
cardinals came to Tag-po and took the child, then a year old, and its
parents to the Rigyal palace, near Lhasa. This child, now aged ten, is
called Nag-wang lo-zang tubdan gya-tso “the Lord of speech, the mighty
ocean of wisdom.” [265]
The reason why the golden jar was not used for finding this
reincarnation was because of the apprehension that the Dayan Khanpo’s
spirit—he had but recently died, and had been violently opposed to the
Dalai lamas and their form of government—might be able to cause a wrong
name to be drawn from the jar.
June 5.—Early this morning I was invited to dine with the Lhacham at
Bangye-shag. I was received most graciously, and was led by the Lhacham
to her drawing-room, a room about 16 feet by 12, facing the south and
on the third story of the building. There were in it two Chinese chests
of drawers, on top of which were a lot of porcelain cups; Chinese
pictures—picnics and dancing most of them represented—covered the
greater part of the walls; the ceiling was of Chinese satin, and thick
rugs of Yarkand and Tibetan make covered the floor. Well-polished
little tables, wooden bowls for tsamba, and some satin-covered cushions
completed the furniture of the room.
After conversing for a while and drinking a few cups of tea, the
Lhacham withdrew, and one of her maids showed me the rooms in the
mansion. The furniture was much the same as that in the Lhacham’s room,
only of inferior quality and ruder make. The walls were painted green
and blue, with here and there pictures of processions of gods and
demons, and the beams of the ceiling were carved and painted. The doors
were very roughly made and without panels; the windows were covered
with paper, with a very small pane of glass fitted in the middle of
each. There were no chimneys in any of the rooms, but earthenware
stoves, or jala. In a few of the rooms flowers were growing in pots.
Returning to the Lhacham’s room, dinner was served me at noon, and
while I ate she asked me many questions concerning the marriage laws of
India and Europe. When I told her that in India a husband had several
wives, and that among the Phyling [266] a man had but one wife, she
stared at me with undisguised astonishment. “One wife with one
husband!” she exclaimed. “Don’t you think we Tibetan women are better
off? The Indian wife has but a portion of her husband’s affections and
property, but in Tibet the housewife is the real lady of all the joint
earnings and inheritance of all the brothers sprung from the same
mother, who are all of the same flesh and blood. The brothers are but
one, though their souls are several. In India a man marries well
several women who are strangers to each other.” “Am I to understand
that your ladyship would like to see several sisters marry one
husband?” I asked. “That is not the point,” replied the Lhacham. “What
I contend is that Tibetan women are happier than Indian ones, for they
enjoy the privileges conceded in the latter country to the men.” [267]
June 7.—My two men had heard from Gadan Tipa, a soothsayer, that they
would be stricken with small-pox if they ventured to go to Samye, and
they besought me to give up the idea; but I declared emphatically my
resolve to visit that famous lamasery, and also that of Gadan.
On June 8 I again visited the Jo khang. The numerous wooden pillars
supporting the second story are among the most remarkable things in
this temple. The largest of these have capitals with sculptured
foliage, and are called ka-wa shing-lho chan. [268] At their base are
buried, it is said, great treasures of gold and silver. Other pillars,
with dragon-heads as capitals, have hidden under them charms against
devils, for curing diseases, and for keeping off and thwarting the evil
designs of the enemies of Buddhism and of the government of the church.
Other pillars, again, called seng go-chan, “having lions’ heads as
capitals,” have concealed under them many potent charms (yang-yig)
[269] to insure bounteous crops.
Under the floor of the Lu-khang are many charms and precious things
wrapped in snow-fox or snake-skin. These, it is supposed, preserve the
flocks and herds of Tibet. Beneath the image of Dsambhala is hidden in
an onyx box some tag-sha, [270] which preserves the precious stones,
the wool, the grain, and the other riches of the country.
Among the other objects of special sanctity, I was shown in the passage
for circumambulating the temple a cavity in the rock where neither moss
nor grass grow; it is said to keep back the waters of the Kyi chu from
invading the Jo khang. [271]
June 9.—I went out walking to-day in the direction of Ramoche. On the
streets I met numerous bands of ragyabas, or scavengers, wandering from
place to place, clamouring for alms from every new-comer or pilgrim
they saw. If no attention is paid to them, they thrust their dirty hats
in the stranger’s face and lavish insults on him; and if he take
offence, they reply, “Why, my lord, this is not insolence; we are but
saluting you!”
These ragyabas of Lhasa form a guild. Persons convicted of any crime,
or vagabonds, are usually sent back to their native villages, there to
work out their sentence; but when the authorities cannot learn whence
they come, they are handed over to the chief of the ragyabas, who
receives them into his guild. Besides begging, the ragyabas cut up the
corpses which are brought to the two cemeteries of Lhasa, near which
they live, and feed them to vultures and dogs. A ragyaba may not show
his wealth, however great it be; the walls of their houses must be made
with horns of sheep, goats, or yaks, the convex sides turned upwards.
[272]
At present the chief of the ragyabas is a man of about fifty years,
called Abula; he wears a red serge gown and a yellow turban. Cursed is
the lot of the ragyabas, and twice cursed is Abula, if a day passes
without a corpse being brought to the cemetery; for people believe that
if a day passes without a death it portends evil to Lhasa.
In connection with the erection of Ramoche, it is said that the
princess who had it built discovered that the spot on which the temple
was erected was in communication with hell, and that there was a
crystal palace inhabited by the Nagas deep in the earth underneath this
place. [273]
Among the most remarkable relics preserved in this temple, and which I
had not had time to examine on my first rather hurried visit, I now
noticed one of Dolma [274] made of turquoise, and which is said to
render oracles, one of Tse-pa-med [275] made of coral, and one of
Rin-chen Khadoma [276] in amber, and a number of others of jade,
conch-shells and mumen, [277] besides many jars and bowls of jade and
gold.
In the afternoon I called on the Lhacham, and was sorry to learn that
her second son had small-pox. I told her how disappointed I was at not
having been able to get even a glimpse of the Kyabgong, the “lord
protector” of Tibet, the Dalai lama. “Alas!” I added, “I have not
acquired a sufficient moral merit in former existences to be able to
see Shenrezig in flesh and blood!”
“Do not be cast down, Pundib la; though it is not an easy matter for
even the Shape and nobles of Tibet to see the Dalai lama, I will
arrange an audience for you.” [278]
Early the next day a gentleman (ku-dag), who was a Dungkhor of Potala,
called on me, and said that the Kusho Lhacham of Phala had arranged
with the Donyer chenpo of Potala for an audience for me with the Dalai
lama, and that I must get ready as soon as possible.
Swallowing breakfast as quickly as possible, I put on my best clothes,
and had hardly finished when the Dungkhor Chola Kusho, accompanied by a
servant, arrived. Having provided myself with three bundles of
incense-sticks and a roll of khatag, we mounted our ponies and sallied
forth. As we crossed the doorway we saw a calf sucking, and several
women carrying water. My companions smiled, and Chola Kusho remarked
that I was a lucky man, as these were most auspicious signs. [279]
Arriving at the eastern gateway of Potala, we dismounted and walked
through a long hall, on either side of which were rows of
prayer-wheels, which every passer-by put in motion. Then, ascending
three long flights of stone steps, we left our ponies in care of a
bystander—for no one may ride further—and proceeded towards the palace
under the guidance of a young monk. We had to climb up five ladders
before we reached the ground floor of Phodang marpo, [280] or “the Red
palace,” thus called from the exterior walls being of a dark red
colour. Then we had half a dozen more ladders to climb up, and we found
ourselves at the top of Potala (there are nine stories to this
building), where we saw a number of monks awaiting an audience. The
view from here was beautiful beyond compare: the broad valley of the
Kyi chu, in the centre of which stands the great city surrounded by
green groves; the gilt spires of the Jo-khang and the other temples of
Lhasa, and farther away the great monasteries of Sera and Dabung,
behind which rose the dark blue mountains.
After a while three lamas appeared, and said that the Dalai lama would
presently conduct a memorial service for the benefit of the late Meru
Ta lama (great lama of Meru gomba), and that we were allowed to be
present at it. Walking very softly, we came to the middle of the
reception hall, the roof of which is supported by three rows of
pillars, four in each row, and where light is admitted by a skylight.
The furniture was that generally seen in lamaseries, but the hangings
were of the richest brocades and cloths of gold; the church utensils
were of gold, and the frescoing on the walls of exquisite fineness.
Behind the throne were beautiful tapestries and satin hangings forming
a great gyal-tsan, or canopy. The floor was beautifully smooth and
glossy, but the doors and windows, which were painted red, were of the
rough description common throughout the country.
A Donyer approached, who took our presentation khatag, but I held back,
at the suggestion of Chola Kusho, the present I had for the Grand Lama;
and when I approached him I placed in his lap, much to the surprise of
all present, a piece of gold weighing a tola. We then took our seats on
rugs, of which there were eight rows; ours were in the third, and about
ten feet from the Grand Lama’s throne, and a little to his left.
The Grand Lama is a child of eight with a bright and fair complexion
and rosy cheeks. [281] His eyes are large and penetrating, the shape of
his face remarkably Aryan, though somewhat marred by the obliquity of
his eyes. The thinness of his person was probably due to the fatigue of
the Court ceremonies and to the religious duties and ascetic observance
of his estate. A yellow mitre covered his head, and its pendant lappets
hid his ears; a yellow mantle draped his person, and he sat
cross-legged with joined palms. The throne on which he sat was
supported by carved lions, and covered with silk scarfs. It was about
four feet high, six feet long, and four feet broad. The State officers
moved about with becoming gravity: there was the Kuchar Khanpo, with a
bowl of holy water (tu), coloured yellow with saffron; [282] the
Censor-carrier, with a golden censor with three chains; the Solpon
chenpo, with a golden teapot; and other household officials. Two gold
lamps, made in the shape of flower vases, burnt on either side of the
throne.
When all had been blessed and taken seats, the Solpon chenpo poured tea
in his Holiness’s golden cup, and four assistants served the people
present. [283] Then grace was said, beginning with Om, Ah, Hum, thrice
repeated, and followed by, “Never losing sight even for a moment of the
Three Holies, making reverence ever to the Three Precious Ones. Let the
blessing of the Three Konchog be upon us,” etc. Then we silently raised
our cups and drank the tea, which was most deliciously perfumed. In
this manner we drank three cupfuls, and then put our bowls back in the
bosoms of our gowns.
After this the Solpon chenpo put a golden dish full of rice before the
Dalai lama, and he touched it, and then it was divided among those
present; then grace was again said, and his Holiness, in a low,
indistinct tone, chanted a hymn, which was repeated by the assembled
lamas in deep, grave tones. When this was over, a venerable man rose
from the first row of seats and made a short address, reciting the many
acts of mercy the Dalai lamas had vouchsafed Tibet, at the conclusion
of which he presented to his Holiness a number of valuable things; then
he made three prostrations and withdrew, followed by all of us.
As I was leaving, one of the Donyer chenpo’s (or chamberlain)
assistants gave me two packets of blessed pills, and another tied a
scrap of red silk round my neck—these are the usual return presents the
Grand Lama makes to pilgrims.
As we were going out of the hall, we were met by Chola Kusho’s younger
brother, a monk in Namgyal Ta-tsan, the monastery of the palace, and in
his and his brother’s company I visited the palace, and learnt from
them much relating to the history and the traditions of the place.
We first visited a chapel where is an image of Shenrezig with eleven
heads and a thousand arms, an eye in the palm of each of his hands.
Near it is an image with four arms, also many small gold chorten and
objects in bronze. Next I was led to a hall where there is an old
throne, opposite which are images of King Srong-btsan, his two
consorts, his minister Tonmi Sambhota, General Gar, and Prince Gungri
gung-btsan. [284] Leaving this room, we went to the great hall where
Nag-wang lob-zang, the fifth Dalai lama, used to hold his court. Old
paintings, supposed to be indestructible by fire, representing King
Srong-btsan’s family, Shenrezig, and the first Grand Lama, hung from
the pillars, and several images, among which one of sandalwood
representing Gon-po, [285] may be seen here.
We were then led to the hall where the Desi Sangye-gyatso used to hold
his councils. [286] Here also is the tomb of the first Dalai lama. It
is two-storied, and the dome is covered with thin plates of gold. The
Dalai’s remains are entombed with many precious things, and the
sepulchre is ornamented with various objects of the richest designs and
most costly materials brought hither by devotees. This tomb is called
the Dsamling gyan, [287] and is the prototype of the tombs we saw
around it containing the remains of the other incarnations of the Dalai
lama; but these are all smaller than it.
After visiting these halls we descended to the Namgyal Ta-tsan. The
architecture of the Phodang marpo embarrassed me greatly, the halls and
rooms being piled up story on story. The stonework was beautiful, but
it is so poorly drained that in many places the odours are stifling.
Entering a small room, the cell of our guide, we were given seats and
served with tea and a collation. Shortly after we started home, having
expressed in the warmest terms our thanks to Chola Kusho and his
brother for their kindness. We followed the ling-khor, as the road
which encircles Lhasa is called. On the way we passed a small grove
where is the elephant-shed, the solitary occupant of which—a present
from the Rajah of Sikkim—was standing in a barley patch near by.
Further on we came to a place where the corpses of the townspeople are
fed to pigs, whose flesh, by the way, is said to be delicious. Near
here are numerous huts of Ragyabas.
In the evening a drove of donkeys loaded with tsamba and butter arrived
from Gyantse, and I was distressed to learn that my friend the minister
had small-pox. My men again began pestering me to return to Tsang,
alleging as a pretext that I might be of assistance to the minister,
and I finally prepared to go to him, especially as the donkey-men said
he had expressed a desire to have me near him.
On June 11 I went to see the Lhacham, thanked her for having obtained
for me an audience of the Kyab-gong Rinpoche, and spoke to her about my
intention of setting out for Dongtse. She advised me to leave at once,
as small-pox was raging at Lhasa; her two sons now had it, and from her
appearance I feared that she was about to fall ill of the same disease.
Returning to our lodgings, I despatched Tsing-ta to her to ask a loan
of 200 tankas. The sum was brought me in the evening by her maid Apela,
and the Lhacham also sent me provisions for the journey and feed for
the ponies.