Now that Chinese and Tibetan representatives of some kind had appeared, even though they were not of much rank or accredited with much power, I thought it well to proceed to Khamba Jong to get into touch with them, and form my own impression of how matters stood. I therefore rode straight through from Tangu to Khamba Jong on the 18th, accompanied by Mr. Dover, the Sikkim engineer, who had made such excellent rough roads and bridges, and escorted by a few mounted men.

After Tangu the mountain-sides became more and more barren; trees were replaced by low shrubs and dwarf rhododendrons, and higher up they, too, disappeared, till, when we crossed the Kangra-la (pass), there was nothing but rough coarse scrub. The pass itself was easy enough, though it was just over 17,000 feet in height. As we descended from it we were at length really in Tibet, and the change was most marked. In place of narrow valleys were great wide plains, intersected indeed by distant ranges of mountains, and absolutely devoid of trees, but open and traversable in every direction. The sky, too, was clear. The great monsoon clouds were left behind, and the sun shone with a power which brought the temperature up to 82° in the shade, and made it quite uncomfortably hot at midday, though at night there were 4° of frost.

As we rode on into Tibet and got out into the open, and well away from the Himalayan range, we obtained a glorious view of that stupendous range from Chumalhari, 24,000 feet, on the extreme east, to Kinchinjunga, 28,275 feet, in the centre, and Everest itself, 29,002 feet, and ninety miles distant in the far west.

On July 20 I made a formal call upon Mr. Ho and the Tibetan delegates. Mr. Ho was not a very polished official, and did not favourably impress me. The Tibetan Chief Secretary, however, did, and I reported at the time that he had an “exceedingly genial, kind, accomplished style of face.” But appearance belied him, and right up to the conclusion of the treaty, nearly fourteen months later, he was the most inimical to us of all the Tibetans.

As this was a first interview, I did not proceed with any business discussion, but I told the delegates that, though I must await the orders of the Viceroy on the letter which the Resident had addressed him, and could not, therefore, yet commence formal negotiations, yet I would at our next meeting state plainly in detail the view which the Viceroy took of the situation, so that they might know our views, and be ready when the formal negotiations commenced to make proposals for their settlement.

Two days later they all came to return my visit, and after the usual polite conversation I said I would now redeem my promise, and I told the interpreter to commence reading a speech which I had prepared beforehand, and which Captain O’Connor had carefully translated into Tibetan. But before he could commence the Tibetans raised objections to holding negotiations at Khamba Jong at all. The proper place, they said, was Giagong. I told them that the place of meeting was a matter to be decided upon, not by the negotiators, but by the Viceroy and Amban. The Viceroy had selected Khamba Jong because of its proximity to the portion of frontier in dispute, and he had chosen a place on the Tibetan rather than the Indian side of the frontier because the last negotiations were conducted in India; and when, after much trouble a treaty had been concluded between the Chinese and British Governments, the Tibetans had repudiated it, saying they knew nothing about it. On the present occasion, therefore, the Viceroy decided that negotiations should take place in Tibet, and had asked that a Tibetan official of the highest rank should take part in them, in order that, when the new settlement was completed, the Tibetans should not be able to say they knew nothing of it.

The Tibetans then raised objections to the size of my escort. I explained that it was merely the escort which was becoming to my rank, and was even smaller than the escort which the Chinese Resident took to Darjiling and Calcutta at the former negotiations. They said they had understood that the negotiations were to be friendly, and so they themselves had brought no armed escort. I replied that the negotiations certainly were to be friendly, and that if I had had any hostile intentions I should have brought many more than 200 men, a number which was only just sufficient to guard me against such attacks of bad characters as had very recently been made upon the British Ambassador at the capital of the Chinese Empire.

My speech was then read by the interpreter. It recounted how, seventeen years before, the Viceroy proposed a peaceful mission to Lhasa to arrange the conditions of trade with Tibet. British subjects had the right to trade in other parts and provinces of the Chinese Empire, just as all subjects of the Chinese Emperor were allowed to trade in every part of the British Empire. But in this one single dependency of the Chinese Empire, in Tibet, obstacles were always raised in the way of trade. It was to discuss this matter with the Tibetan authorities at Lhasa, and to see if these obstacles could not be removed, that the then Viceroy of India proposed, with the consent of the Chinese Government, to send a mission to Lhasa in 1886. But when the mission was about to start, the Chinese Government at the last moment informed the Viceroy that the Tibetans were so opposed to the idea of admitting a British mission to their country that they (the Chinese Government) begged that the mission might be postponed; and out of good feeling to the Chinese Government, and on the distinct understanding that the Chinese would exhort the Tibetans to promote and develop trade, the Viceroy counterordered the mission.

Seventeen years had now passed away since the Chinese made the promise, and the British Government had just cause to complain that in all these years, owing to the persistent obstruction of the Tibetans, the Chinese had been unable to perform their pledge.

And the forbearance which the Viceroy had shown in countermanding the mission had met with a bad return on the part of the Tibetans, for they had proceeded, without any cause or justification, to invade a State under British protection. Even this the Viceroy bore with patience for nearly two years, trusting they would be obedient to the authority of the Chinese Government and withdraw. But when they still remained in Sikkim, and even attacked the British troops there, he was compelled to punish them and drive them back from Sikkim and pursue them into Chumbi. And in Chumbi the British troops would have remained as a punishment for the unprovoked attack upon them if it had not been for the friendship which existed between the Emperor of China and the Queen of England.

Out of regard, however, for that friendship, the Viceroy agreed to enter into negotiation with the Chinese Resident acting, on behalf of the Tibetans, and after some years an agreement was made, by which the boundary between Tibet and Sikkim was laid down, and arrangements were made for traders to come to Yatung to sell the goods to whomsoever they pleased, to purchase native commodities, to hire transport, and to conduct their business without any vexatious restrictions. It was also agreed that if, after five years, either side should wish to make any alterations, both parties should meet again and make a new agreement.

At the end of five years the Queen’s Secretary of State wrote to the Viceroy and inquired how the treaty was being observed, and the reply went back that the Tibetans had destroyed the boundary pillars which British and Chinese officials had erected on the frontier laid down by the treaty; that they had occupied land at Giagong inside that boundary; that they had built a wall on the other side of Yatung, and allowed no one to pass through to trade with the traders who came there from India; and, lastly, that they had repudiated the treaty which had been signed by the Resident and the Viceroy on the ground that it had not been signed by one of themselves.

When the Queen’s Great Secretary heard of the way they had set at naught the treaty which the Amban and the Viceroy had signed, he was exceedingly angry, and ordered Mr. White to go to Giagong to remove the Tibetans who had presumed to cross the frontier which the Amban and Viceroy had fixed. Mr. White had gone there and removed the Tibetans, and thrown down their guard-house, and reported to the Viceroy what he had done.

Now the Amban, when he heard what Mr. White had done, wrote to the Viceroy that, if there was any matter which needed discussion, he would send a Chinese officer and a representative of the Dalai Lama to settle it with a British officer. And the Viceroy had written in reply that he had sent a high officer with Mr. White to Khamba Jong to settle everything about the frontier and about trade; but as the Tibetans had broken the old treaty because they said they had known nothing about it, His Excellency had written to the Amban that there must be at the negotiations a Tibetan official of the highest rank, whose authority to bind his Government must be unquestioned. Mr. White and I had accordingly come, and as soon as I heard from the Viceroy that he was satisfied on this last point I was ready to commence negotiations.

The Viceroy, I could assure them, had no intention whatever of annexing their country, and it was possible, indeed, that he might make concessions in regard to the lands near Giagong, if in the coming negotiations they showed themselves reasonable in regard to trade. But I warned them that, after the way in which they had broken and repudiated the old treaty, concluded in their interests by the Amban at the close of a war in which they were defeated, they must expect that he would demand from them some assurance that they would faithfully observe any new settlement which might be made.

“You come and travel and trade in India just as you please,” I said. "You go where you like, and stay there as long as you like. But if any one from India wishes to trade in Tibet he is stopped on the frontier, and no one is allowed to go near him. He can trade in Russia, in Germany, in France, and in all other great countries, and in all other dependencies of the Chinese Empire, in Manchuria, in Mongolia, and in Turkestan; but in Tibet alone of all countries he cannot trade. This is a one-sided arrangement, unworthy of so fair-minded and cultured a people as you are; and though His Excellency has no intention of annexing your country, and may, indeed, if you prove reasonable in regard to the admission of trade, make concessions to you in respect to the frontier lands near Giagong, yet he will insist that the obstacles which you have for so many years put in the way of trade between India and Tibet shall be once and for ever removed."

This speech was, of course, made for the benefit of the Lhasa Government. The Tibetan officials would receive no written communications, but I thought it barely possible that they might pass on a verbal communication, especially when it was made before a responsible Chinese official, and after I had given due notice of my intention.

The Tibetan delegates listened attentively while it was being delivered, but at its conclusion said that they could not enter into any discussion upon it. I replied that neither could I discuss it with them, for I had not yet heard from the Viceroy that he was satisfied that they were of sufficiently high rank to carry on negotiations. I had, however, as a matter of courtesy, taken the trouble to acquaint them informally with the Viceroy’s views, which I trusted they would report to their Government. They replied that they could not even do that much, that they could make no report at all unless we went back to Giagong.

Mr. Ho here interposed, and said that the Tibetans were very ignorant and difficult to deal with, and he asked me if I could not meet them by agreeing to go to the frontier. I said I would with pleasure, and when representatives whom the Viceroy would permit me to negotiate with were present I would gladly ride with them to the frontier and discuss the question on the spot; but the frontier was not at Giagong, as the Tibetans supposed, but at the Kangra-la (pass), only ten miles from where we where. Mr. Ho said the actual position of the frontier was not known yet, but that it was where the waters flowed down to India. I said five minutes’ investigation would make clear where that was, and Mr. Ho said that then the matter could be very easily settled.

Mr. Ho’s Chinese secretary then suggested that I should give the Tibetans the copy of my speech which the interpreter had read from. I assented with readiness, and, with Mr. Ho’s approval, presented it to them. But they could not have got rid of a viper with greater haste than they got rid of that paper. They said that they could on no account receive it, and handed it on to Mr. Ho’s secretary, to whom, as he spoke English, I had also given an English version.

These so-called delegates never came near us again at Khamba Jong, but shut themselves up in the fort and sulked. And in reporting the result of this interview to Government, I said that both Mr. White and I were of opinion that Government must be prepared for very protracted negotiations, and also for the possibility of coercion. The attitude of the Tibetans was fully as obstructive, I said, as Mr. White and every other person acquainted with them had predicted it would be, and I saw at present little prospect of coming to a settlement without coercion, though I would use every possible means of argument and persuasion.

And if the delegates did not choose to give me any work, I was quite content to do none, for I was thoroughly happy in camp there at Khamba Jong. All my staff were delightful companions, and we were very happy together. Mr. White was the best possible hand at making a camp comfortable and feeding arrangements good; and we had neither the stifling heat of the Indian plains nor the discomforts of the rainy season in the hills. We were beyond the reach of the monsoon. We had occasional refreshing showers, but for July, August, and September, the rainfall was only 4.9 inches, and, for the most part, the weather was bright and fine and clear. We could see immense distances over the rolling plains. We would watch the mighty monsoon clouds sweeping along the Himalayas; we would catch glimpses of some noble peak rising superbly above them, and Kinchinjunga close by and Everest in the farthest distance were a perpetual joy.

Some of us went out shooting antelopes and Ovis ammon; while others went botanizing or geologizing; and when, later on, our scientific staff was complete, I could accompany Mr. Hayden to hunt for fossils, Captain Walton to collect birds, and Colonel Prain, now Director of the Botanical Gardens at Kew, to collect plants, and thus hear from each of these specialists in turn all the interests of their sciences, so I did not care a pin how long these obstinate Tibetans kept us up there.

But while the Lhasa delegates would have no more to say to us, a deputation came to see me on behalf of the Tashi Lama, who is of equal spiritual importance with the Dalai Lama, though of less political authority. They said that they had been sent to represent to us that the Tashi Lama was put to great trouble with the Lhasa authorities by our presence at Khamba Jong; that the Lhasa authorities held him responsible for permitting us to cross the frontier, and he begged me to be so kind as to save him from the trouble by withdrawing across the frontier or to Yatung, which was the place fixed for meetings of this kind. I repeated to them all the arguments I had used with the Lhasa delegates. They were much more courteous, and talked over the matter in a perfectly friendly, and even cheery, way. They said, though, that they knew nothing about the treaty, as it was concluded by the Amban, and not by themselves, and they could not be responsible for observing it. I said that that was precisely the reason why we had now come to Tibet. We wished now to make a new treaty there, where Tibetans could take part in the negotiations, so that they would not in future be able to say they knew nothing about it. They laughed, and said this was a very reasonable argument, but that it was the Lhasa people, and not themselves, who had broken the treaty, and we ought to go to Yatung and make the new treaty there.

I told them that, in the first place, they also had broken the treaty by crossing the boundary fixed in it and occupying Giagong; and, in the second place, we must regard Tibetans as all one people, and hold all responsible for the actions of each.

The impression left upon me by this interview, I reported at the time, was that the Tibetans, though excessively childish, were very pleasant, cheery people, and, individually, probably quite well disposed towards us.

Mr. Wilton, of the China Consular Service, joined us on August 7. He had been acting as Consul at Chengtu, in Szechuan, and I had not spoken to him for more than five minutes before I realized what a help he would be to us. He at once said that neither the Chinese nor the Tibetan delegates were of at all sufficient rank or authority to conduct negotiations with us, and no one else than one of the Ambans and one of the Tibetan Councillors would be of any use. The new Chinese Resident, who had been deputed in the previous December specially for the purpose of conducting these negotiations he had himself seen at Chengtu, and it is significant of the dilatoriness of the Chinese that, while Mr. Wilton reached me early in August, the Resident did not reach Lhasa till the next February, thirteen months after he had set out from Peking.

Having received Mr. Wilton’s advice regarding the status of the delegates, the Viceroy, on August 25, wrote to the Chinese Resident, suggesting that either he himself or his Associate Resident should meet me, and that, as the present Tibetan delegates had shown themselves entirely unsuited for diplomatic intercourse, and would not even accept the copy of the speech explanatory of the relations between India and Tibet which I had made, he proposed that the Tibetan Government should be invited to depute a Councillor of the Dalai Lama, accompanied by a high member of the National Assembly.

As regards the objection which the Resident had made to the selection of Khamba Jong as the meeting-place, Lord Curzon said that it was the nearest point in Tibet to the disputed boundary; and it was necessary that the present negotiations should be conducted in Tibet, as the former Convention which the Tibetans had repudiated was concluded in India, and His Majesty’s Government were not prepared to allow a similar repudiation of any new agreement. But, as winter was approaching, if the negotiations were not completed, I might have to select some other place in Tibet for passing the winter. In conclusion, the Viceroy emphasized the importance of my position and duties, and stated that I was entitled to expect that he should reply to my communications, and look to him for co-operation.

At Khamba Jong itself no progress was being made. There was, indeed, fear at one time that we should be attacked, and I have not much doubt that we should have been if we had shown any slackness or unguardedness. But Captain Bethune was an officer of much experience, and his men were all accustomed to frontier warfare, and every precaution was taken. Our camp was well fortified and the country round regularly patrolled.

Two Sikkim men who had gone to Shigatse, as was customary, were seized, however, and, we heard, had either been tortured or killed. In spite of our representations, the Tibetans refused to give them up, and, in retaliation, we had to seize Tibetan herds and to remove all the Tibetans I had so far, though at considerable risk, allowed to remain at Giagong.

Some slight chance of a settlement appeared when, on August 21, the head Abbot of the Tashi Lumpo monastery, near Shigatse, came to make another representation on behalf of the Tashi Lama. He was a courteous, kindly man, and was accompanied by two monks and a lay representative, besides the former deputy from the Tashi Lama. The Abbot said that a Council had been held by the Tashi Lama, and it had been decided to make another representation to me. This representation did not, however, differ from the first, and I repeated the same arguments in reply. He was especially insistent about Giagong, and I asked him when one man had a certain thing which another man wished to get from him, which was the wiser course to pursue—to make friends with him, or to do everything to make him annoyed. The Tibetans all burst out laughing at this argument, and I then went on to say that the Lhasa authorities, instead of doing everything they could to dispose us favourably towards them, and incline us to make concessions in regard to Giagong, had adopted a steadily unfriendly attitude; they had sent only small officials to meet Mr. White and myself, and these small officials did nothing but say they would negotiate nowhere else but at Giagong. This was not the way to predispose us in their favour.

The Abbot said the delegates were not small officials, but were next in rank to the Councillors. I said I had concluded they were men of little power, because when I had made a speech to them on my first arrival, and had asked them to report the substance of it to the Lhasa Government, they had refused. If they could not even report a speech, I supposed they would not be fit to negotiate an important treaty.

I asked the Abbot to give this advice to His Holiness—that if he wished us to withdraw from Khamba Jong, he should use his influence with the Lhasa authorities to induce them to send proper delegates, and instruct such delegates to discuss matters with us in a reasonable and friendly spirit. Then matters would be very soon settled, and we would return to India.

I then made some personal observations to the Abbot, and he told me that from a boy he had been brought up in a monastery in a religious way, and was not accustomed to deal with political matters. I told him I envied him his life of devotion. It was my business to wrangle about these small political matters, but I always admired those who spent their lives in the worship of God. He asked me if he might come and see me again, and I said he might come and see me every day and all day long; and Captain O’Connor, who could speak Tibetan, would often pay him visits.

On August 24 the Abbot again came to see me, and said that after his previous visit he had gone to the Lhasa delegates and urged them to negotiate at Khamba Jong, instead of at Giagong. But they had replied that, just as my orders were to negotiate at the former place, so their orders were to negotiate at the latter, and they could not agree to anything different. The Abbot, therefore, now came to say that there were several hundred Tibetan troops near by, but he would get those withdrawn if I would send away my escort. He thought that then the Lhasa Government would probably consent to negotiations at Khamba Jong. I told him that I had not the slightest objection to the presence of the Tibetan troops, but it surprised me that, when they had so many hundreds near, they should have any objection to the small number which I myself had.

The innocent-minded Abbot then asked if I would send away half, and he would himself remain with us as a hostage. He explained that the Tibetans thought we had come with no friendly intent, as we had forced our way into the country, and a reduction of our escort would appease them. I told the Abbot I could not acknowledge that we had forced our way into Tibet, as I had up to now ignored the presence of Tibetan soldiers inside the treaty frontier, who had no business to be where they were; and I repeated my old arguments in regard to the strength of my escort.

The Abbot very politely apologized for all the trouble he was giving me by making so many requests. I told him he might make requests to me all day long, and he would always find me ready to listen to him and give him what I, at any rate, considered reasonable answers. I much regretted the inconvenience which was being caused to the Tashi Lama, and I felt sure that if the conduct of these negotiations rested with His Holiness and the polite and reasonable advisers of his whom he had sent to me, we should very soon come to a settlement.

I advised the Abbot to get the Tashi Lama to represent matters directly to Lhasa. He replied they were not allowed to make representations against the orders of the Lhasa Government. Nevertheless, he would again, that very day, go to the Lhasa delegates, tell them how he had once more tried to induce me to go back to Giagong, and would ask them to make a request to Lhasa to open negotiations at Khamba Jong, and he said he would even go so far as to undertake to receive in their stead any punishment which the Lhasa Government might order upon the delegates for daring to make this request.

He then asked me what we wanted in the coming negotiations. I told him that I had set our requirements forth fully in a speech I had made on my first arrival, a copy of which I would very gladly give him. But he was well acquainted with it, and asked me what was meant exactly by opening a trade-mart. I explained that we wanted a proper trade-mart, which would not be closed with a wall behind it, as Yatung had been—a mart where Indian traders could come and meet Tibetan traders; a mart such as we had in other parts of the Chinese Empire, and had formerly had in Shigatse itself.

The Abbot himself was a charming old gentleman. Whatever intellectual capacity he may have had was not very apparent to the casual observer, and he corrected me when I inadvertently let slip some observation implying that the earth was round, and assured me that when I had lived longer in Tibet, and had time to study, I should find that it was not round, but flat, and not circular, but triangular, like the bone of a shoulder of mutton. On the other hand, he was very sociable and genial. He would come and have lunch and tea with us, and would spend hours with Captain O’Connor and Mr. Bailey, playing with gramophones, typewriters, pictures, photographs, and all the various novelties of our camp.

But the situation now began to grow worse. On August 31 I was informed by a trustworthy person, who had exceptional sources of information, that he was convinced that the Tibetans would do nothing till they were made to and a situation had arisen. They were said to be quite sure in their own minds that they were fully equal to us, and, far from our getting anything out of them, they thought they would be able to force something out of us. Some 2,600 Tibetan soldiers were occupying the heights and passes on a line between Phari and Shigatse. My informant did not think, however, that they would attack us for the present, though they might in the winter, when our communications would be cut off. Their immediate policy was one of passive obstruction. They had made up their minds to have no negotiations with us inside Tibet, and they would simply leave us at Khamba Jong, while if we tried to advance farther, they would oppose us by force. They were afraid that if they gave us an inch we would take an ell, and if they allowed us at Khamba Jong one year we should go to Shigatse the next, and Lhasa the year after. So they were determined to stop us at the start.

The Shigatse Abbot had, I heard, done his best to make the Lhasa officials take a more reasonable view, but without success. The Lhasa officials were entirely ruled by the National Assembly at Lhasa, and this Assembly was composed chiefly of Lhasa monks.

It was difficult to understand why there was all this trouble about negotiating at Khamba Jong, for the Chinese Government had informed our Minister at Peking on July 19 that “the Imperial Resident had now arranged with the Dalai Lama to appoint two Tibetan officials of fairly high standing to proceed with the Prefect Ho to Khamba to meet Major Younghusband and Mr. White, and discuss with them what steps are to be taken.” The Chinese Government added that they trusted it would be possible to effect a speedy and friendly settlement of this long-standing dispute, and requested Mr. Townley to acquaint his Government by telegraph with the contents of this communication, so that Major Younghusband and Mr. White might be instructed to open negotiations in a friendly spirit with the Tibetan and other delegates appointed, and it was hoped that the pending questions would then be speedily and finally settled.

The Chinese Government did, indeed, ask the British Government to withdraw the troops we had with us at Khamba Jong, but this was on the strength of a report they had received that when I was to follow Mr. White to Khamba Jong, I was to bring with me the 300 men who formed the support left at Tangu.

That the Dalai Lama himself had agreed to Khamba Jong being the meeting-place seems evident from the copy of the telegram from the Chinese Resident at Lhasa, which the Chinese Government forwarded to Mr. Townley with the above-mentioned communication. The Resident’s words were: “The Dalai Lama’s answer is to the effect that, since the British Government has appointed Major Younghusband as Boundary Commissioner and Mr. White as his fellow-Commissioner, and fixed the 7th instant for the meeting of the delegates at the frontier station of Khamba, and as the Prefect Ho Kuang Hsieh is to proceed there in a few days from Chingshi, it is his duty, the matter being a very important one, also to appoint interpreter officials above the usual rank to proceed to Khamba, and, in company with the Prefect Shou [? Ho], to meet the British delegates and discuss the frontier question with them.”

Nothing would seem clearer than this. Both the Chinese Government and the Dalai Lama accepted Khamba—that is, Khamba Jong—as the place of meeting, and directed their delegates to proceed to meet Mr. White and myself there. Yet, when we met at the appointed place, they refused to have anything to do with us!

I think a solution of this extraordinary proceeding may be found in the last paragraph of the telegram of the Resident to his Government. In this very same telegram in which he announces that the Dalai Lama is sending delegates with Mr. Ho to meet me at Khamba Jong, the Resident asks that we should “be careful not to cross the frontier, and thus again excite the suspicion and alarm of the Tibetans.”

My impression is that neither the Chinese Government, the Resident, nor the Dalai Lama knew that Khamba Jong was on the Tibetan side of the frontier. And this appalling ignorance of the frontier by men who, nevertheless, kept the control of frontier affairs absolutely in their hands was one of the main difficulties with which we had to deal, and was what made it an absolute necessity to negotiate with them face to face at Lhasa itself.

In any case, whether they really were ignorant or not of the position of Khamba Jong, they had all formally agreed to send delegates to meet Mr. White and myself there, and the continued refusal of these delegates even to receive communications was utterly indefensible.

On September 1 Mr. Ho came to me to say he had been recalled to Lhasa owing to ill-health. I took the opportunity to recount the difficulties the Chinese Government had placed us in by undertaking responsibilities in regard to the Tibetans, and then not being able to fulfil them. The British Government had time after time shown consideration to the Chinese Government, but the net result was that the Tibetans had broken the old treaty, and now placed every obstacle in the way of negotiating a new one. I trusted he would represent to the Resident the seriousness of the position, and impress upon him the importance of using his influence with the Tibetan Government to induce them to change their present intolerable attitude. The Tibetans did not seem to understand that for years they had been offending the British Government, and that it ill became them, therefore, to object to the mere place where negotiations were to be held. We had given them the opportunity for negotiating, and if the Lhasa Government still persisted in refusing to hold negotiations at Khamba Jong, and the Chinese still showed their incapacity to make them negotiate there, then the Resident must understand that the position would become very grave indeed, and the Chinese and Tibetans would only have themselves to thank if, under these circumstances, the British Government took matters into their own hands and adopted their own measures for effecting a settlement.

Mr. Ho said he would explain all this to the Amban, and he also then and there explained it to the Tibetans—the Shigatse Abbot and others, though not including the Lhasa delegates—who were present, and these seemed impressed, though they said we were acting in a very oppressive manner.

On September 2 the Government of India asked me to submit proposals for dealing with the situation if the Tibetans continued to be so impracticable. I replied on the 9th, that I thought that the Viceroy’s reply to the Resident might have some effect upon the Chinese at least. Both Chinese and Tibetans had so far been under the impression that the present mission was only one more of the futile little missions which had come and gone on the Sikkim frontier for years past. They thought that if they could be obstructive enough during the summer and autumn, we should no doubt return before the winter. On this point the Viceroy’s letter would leave them in no doubt. It was clear from that that we intended to stay for the winter. Besides this I had, I said, in conversation with Mr. Ho and the Shigatse people, tried to bring both the Chinese and the Tashi Lama round to putting pressure on the obstinate Lhasa monks. But there was little hope, I thought, that mere verbal persuasion would be sufficient. Direct action would be required. The despatch of a second Pioneer regiment to put the road to the Jelap-la (pass) in order, had, I understood, been ordered. I recommended, therefore, that about the same time my escort should be strengthened by 100 men from the support.

What I thought, however, would have a greater effect than anything else upon the Tibetans would be the demonstrating to them that the Nepalese were on our side, and not theirs. The Nepalese Minister had offered 8,000 yaks. I would have 500 of these march across to us by the Tinki Jong route, and would recommend that a suitable representative of the Nepalese Durbar should accompany them for the purpose of formally handing them over to us. This would be a sign which the Tibetans could not mistake that the Nepalese were on our side.

The strengthening of my escort and the appearance of the Nepalese yaks might be made to coincide with the concentration of the 23rd Pioneers in the neighbourhood of the Jelap-la (pass) in about a month’s time. This I thought was all that could be done to bring the Tibetans to a more suitable frame of mind. If these measures failed, an advance into the Chumbi Valley was the most obvious course to take, for the Jelap-la could be crossed at any time during the winter, and along the Chumbi Valley lay the best trade-route and military road to Lhasa. When the Chumbi Valley had been occupied, the mission might, transported by Nepalese yaks, march across to Gyantse. The 32nd Pioneers and all transport would then be transferred to the Chumbi Valley line, and that line be made our chief line of communication.

These were my recommendations to Government when two months’ experience had shown me the difficulty of even entering into communication with the Tibetans. Neither Mr. White nor I, nor any of us, had any real hope of effecting a final settlement anywhere short of Lhasa itself; for it was quite evident to us on the spot that to carry the negotiations through we should have to come to close grips with the priestly autocrats who kept all power in their own hands, and to whom the officials on the frontier were frightened to represent the real state of affairs. But at that time it was high treason for me to whisper the word Lhasa to my nearest friend, such agitation did the sound of it cause in England. So I racked my brains and everyone else’s brains to think of alternative measures to an advance to Lhasa, which might be exhausted before this alarming proposal could be made. And I subsequently strove honestly to get the utmost out of each of those measures before I suggested the next, for I quite realized the difficulty which any Government at home has in securing support from the House of Commons in a matter of this kind. Such methods are very costly, very risky, and very ineffective; but as long as what an officer in the heart of Asia may do is contingent on the “will” of “men in the street” of grimy manufacturing towns in the heart of England, so long must our action be slow, clumsy, and hesitating, when it ought to be sharp and decisive.

I have referred to the offer of the Nepalese Government to help us with yaks, a species of buffalo peculiar to Tibet, which are of value as transport animals at high altitudes. This offer was not only of great practical use, but of still greater political significance. And it is time now to consider this yet other important factor in the situation—the attitude of the Nepalese Government; for Nepal was in rather a peculiar position in this matter. On the one hand, it sends a mission to Peking every three years, and also has a treaty with the Tibetans, under which it is bound to come to their assistance if they are attacked; on the other hand, it has political relations with ourselves. The attitude which the Nepalese Government would take under the circumstances was a matter of considerable importance to us, and no doubt of much questioning among themselves.

Recognizing this, the Government of India at the start laid down in their despatch to the Secretary of State of January 8, 1903, that they contemplated acting in complete unison with the Nepalese Durbar throughout their proceedings, and would invite them, if thought advisable, to take part in our mission. The Indian Government believed that the policy of frank discussion and co-operation with the Nepalese Durbar would find the latter prepared most cordially to assist our plans. An interview at Delhi at the time of the Durbar between Lord Curzon and the Prime Minister of Nepal, Maharaja Chandra Shamsher Jang—the same who came to England in 1908—confirmed the impression. The Nepalese Government regarded this rumour of intrigue in Tibet with the most lively apprehension, and considered the future of the Nepalese State to be directly involved. Further, the Maharaja (the Prime Minister) was prepared to co-operate with the Government of India in whatever way might be thought most desirable, either within or beyond the frontier, for the frustration of designs which he deemed to be utterly inconsistent with the interests of his own country.

This intention the Maharaja afterwards most amply fulfilled right up to the close of the mission. The welcome offer of 500 yaks, now accompanied as it was by a further offer of 8,000 yaks within a month, was the first practical sign of the intention. A second was to follow. And early in September I received from Colonel Ravenshaw, our Resident in Nepal, who had so much contributed to this good understanding between us and the Nepal Prime Minister, the translation of a letter which the latter had just addressed to the Council of Lhasa.

In this letter the Nepal Minister said that he had heard from his frontier officers and from newspaper reports that, in the absence of fully-empowered Commissioners from Tibet to deal with the British Commissioners at Khamba Jong, no settlement could be arrived at, and the latter were being unnecessarily detained. This omission to depute Commissioners vested with full authority, and the neglect or failure of the Tibetan Council to bring about a reasonable settlement for so long, compelled him to say that “such unjustifiable conduct” might lead to grave consequences. It was laid down, the Minister said, in the treaty between Nepal and Tibet that Nepal would assist Tibet in the case of the invasion of its territory by any foreign Rajas. Consequently, when a difference of opinion arose between the Tibetans and anyone else, it was incumbent on him to help them to the best of his power with his advice and guidance, in order to prevent any trouble befalling them from such difference of opinion. And the manner in which the Tibetans had managed the present business not appearing commendable, the assistance he would give at this crisis “of their own creation” would consist in giving such advice as would conduce to the welfare of their country. Should they fail to follow his advice and trouble befall them, there would be no other way open to him of assisting them in the troublous solution brought about by following a wayward course of their own. This should be understood well, for the British Government did not appear to him to have acted in an improper or high-handed way in this matter, but was simply striving to have the conditions of the treaty fulfilled, and it was against the treaty and against all morality or policy to allow matters to drift, and to regard as enemies the officers of such a powerful Government who had come to enforce such rights. Besides, when the Emperor of China had, for their good, posted Ambans of high rank, it was a serious mistake on their part to disregard even their advice and neglect to carry on business with the British Commissioners.

The advice the Nepal Minister gave to the Tibetan Council was this: If the report was correct that they had refused to be bound by the treaty of 1890, on the ground that it was concluded by the Chinese and not by themselves, then they had acted very improperly. The Tibetans and the Nepalese had for a long time held the Emperor of China in high respect. It was improper, then, to declare that the treaty, having been made by the Chinese, was not binding upon the Tibetans, since whatever was done was done on their behalf. The Minister pointed out that, since the conclusion of the treaty between the British and Nepal Governments representatives of each of the Governments had resided in the other’s country, and the due observance of the terms of the treaty had been continually advantageous to the Government of Nepal, and their religion had not suffered in any way. The advantages derived from such an arrangement were too many to enumerate. Since the treaty was made, the British Government had on different occasions restored to them territories lost by Nepal in war, and producing a revenue of many lakhs of rupees. The Tibetans must bear in mind that the Government that they had to deal with was not a despotic, but a constitutional, one, and this would be corroborated by the fact that the British had helped the Nepalese to maintain the autonomy of their country for so long a time, whereas they might easily have deprived them of it if they had had a mind to behave in a despotic and unjust manner. The most notable feature in the relations of the Nepalese with the British, continued the Minister, was that they sacredly observed Nepalese religious and social prejudices. Hence if the Tibetans would even now take time by the forelock, settle the pending questions, and behave with the British as true friends, he was sure Tibet would derive the same benefit from such an alliance as Nepal had hitherto done. That the British Government had any evil designs upon Tibet did not appear from any source. It was well known that the sun never sets upon the British dominions, and that the Sovereign of such a vast Empire should entertain designs of unjustly and improperly taking the Tibetan mountainous country should never cross their minds. So wrote the Nepalese Minister to the Lhasa Council.

Another month passed, and there was still no improvement in the situation. On the contrary, continued rumours arrived that the Tibetans were massing troops, and that at Lhasa they were quite prepared to go to war. The old Shigatse Abbot was very friendly, but quite ineffectual in bringing about negotiations. One day he lunched with us, and assured us that he had made a divination that Yatung was the place where negotiations would be carried on quickest. I said that what we wanted to find was a place where the negotiations could be carried on, not quickest, but best; and I asked him to consult his beads again, and see if Shigatse would not be suitable in that respect. He laughed, and replied that the divination had to be made in front of an altar, to the accompaniment of music. Captain O’Connor had succeeded in making the Abbot and his people so friendly that Mr. Wilton heard from Chinese sources that the Chinese believed that we had either bought over the Abbot or promised him some considerable concession—neither of which was, of course, the case. Still, all this friendliness of the Shigatse men amounted to very little practical use as long as the Lhasa people were still obstinate. So on October 7 I telegraphed to Government that I was strengthening my escort by 100 men from the support, and on the following day telegraphed them a resumÉ of the whole situation.

I said that the Viceroy’s despatch had reached the Resident one month previously, and no reply had yet been received, though letters from Lhasa could reach Khamba Jong in four days. The Mission had been there for three months without being able to even commence negotiations. The Chinese showed indifference and incompetence, and the Tibetans pure obstruction. The present Resident was acknowledged by even the Chinese to be weak and incompetent, and his Associate Resident had been allowed to resign some months back. The new Amban, though appointed in December, was only just leaving Chengtu, and could not reach the frontier till January. The new Associate Resident had been given sick-leave before even joining his post. Mr. Ho, though I had given him the above-mentioned very serious warning, made no haste to proceed to Lhasa, but had loitered at Phari. Even if the Chinese showed less indifference, they could do little with the Tibetans. Mr. Ho was refused transport, and Colonel Chao (his successor) had informed me that the new Resident could not bring large numbers of troops into Tibet, as Tibetans would refuse to furnish transport and supplies. As regards the attitude of the Tibetans, the people in the vicinity and the Shigatse deputies were perfectly friendly, but the Lhasa authorities were as obstructive as ever. The delegates, since the first formal visits, had refused all communication, social or official, with me. The two Sikkim men made prisoners remained in custody, and Tibetan troops lined all the heights between our camp and Gyantse or Shigatse; and there was much probability that Siberian Buriat Lamas were present in Lhasa. The result of all our moderation in the present and previous years was nil, and I could, I said, no longer hold out any hope to Government of a peaceful solution of the question.

On October 11 I left Khamba Jong to proceed to Simla to confer with the Government of India on future action, and thus ended this futile effort to settle the question on the frontier.

The unsatisfactory nature of the situation had in the meanwhile been taken notice of by the Government in England, and, under their instructions, Sir Ernest Satow, our Minister at Peking, on September 25 presented a note to the Chinese Government, stating that, in spite of the Dalai Lama having agreed that negotiations should take place at Khamba Jong, the Tibetan representatives had refused to negotiate there; they had imprisoned two British subjects at Shigatse, and refused to release them; and they were collecting troops, and making hostile preparations. Sir Ernest Satow further verbally informed the Foreign Board, in accordance with his instructions, that His Majesty’s Government expected them to bring immediate pressure to bear upon the Dalai Lama, with a view to the release of the two British subjects who had been imprisoned, and to the commencement without delay of negotiations between the Tibetan delegates and the British Commissioners. Should the Dalai Lama not give immediate satisfaction to these demands, His Majesty’s Government would feel themselves compelled to take such measures as they might consider necessary for the safety of their Mission and for the release of the two British subjects.

Prince Ching promised Sir Ernest Satow to despatch a telegram at once to Lhasa by Batang, and said he hoped an improvement would manifest itself as soon as the new Resident arrived; but he described the Tibetans as intensely ignorant and obstinate, and very difficult to influence.

At first the Imperial Government was not prepared to sanction anything further than the occupation of the Chumbi Valley; but on October 1 Lord George Hamilton telegraphed to the Government of India that Government had again considered the position, and were now prepared, if complete rupture of negotiations proved inevitable, to authorize, not only the occupation of the Chumbi Valley, but also the advance of the Mission to Gyantse, if it could be made with safety; and he asked the Viceroy to inform him of his plans, and particularly how he proposed to secure the safety of the Mission at Gyantse.

It was upon this that I was summoned to Simla to advise the Government of India, and after consultation with me at a meeting of the Council, which I was invited to attend, they telegraphed, on October 26, to Mr. Brodrick, who had now succeeded as Secretary of State, that, for the following reasons, an advance into Tibet seemed indispensable: (1) Though the Dalai Lama had agreed to the Commissioners meeting at Khamba Jong, the Tibetan delegates had refused to hold any communication with the British Commissioner; (2) no Chinese delegates of suitable rank had as yet been sent; (3) the procrastination of the Chinese Government; (4) the warlike preparations of the Tibetans; (5) the arrest and imprisonment of two British subjects; (6) the complete failure of the policy pursued for twenty-five years, the only result of which was that the Tibetans mistook our patience for weakness, and despised our strength. They recommended, therefore, the advance should extend to Gyantse, and should not be confined to the Chumbi Valley, for these reasons: (1) That the Chumbi Valley is on the Indian side of the watershed, and is not regarded as part of Tibet, and a move from Khamba Jong only to there would be regarded as a retrograde movement by the Tibetans; (2) that if we moved only into the Chumbi Valley, we should find the existing situation at Khamba Jong repeated at Phari; (3) that Colonel Younghusband considered it extremely important that we should come into contact with the Tibetan people, for they were quite prepared to enter into relations with us, and were friendly, it being only the hierarchy of Lhasa Lamas who were opposed; (4) that, as we were pressing to have a mart at Gyantse, that object could be secured in no better way than by advancing thither at once. On arrival at Gyantse the force would not attack the place, but, as had been done at Khamba Jong, would establish a fortified port, and invite Tibetans and Chinese to resume negotiations.

It was estimated, in a subsequent telegram, that the total force to be employed would be one battalion of Gurkhas, two companies of Sappers and Miners, two battalions of Pioneers, two guns, British Mountain Battery, two Maxims, and two seven-pounder guns. The command of the whole was to be entrusted to Brigadier-General Macdonald.

The Secretary of State,^[23] in a telegram dated November 6, at last gave his sanction to an advance. In view of the recent conduct of the Tibetans, His Majesty’s Government felt that it would be impossible not to take action, and they accordingly sanctioned the advance of the Mission to Gyantse. They were, however, clearly of opinion that “this step should not be allowed to lead to occupation or to permanent intervention in Tibetan affairs in any form. The advance should be made for the sole purpose of obtaining satisfaction, and as soon as reparation was obtained a withdrawal should be effected. While His Majesty’s Government considered the proposed action to be necessary, they were not prepared to establish a permanent Mission in Tibet, and the question of enforcing trade facilities in that country should be considered in the light of this telegram.”

It was a curious telegram, which I never quite understood. It said that the advance was to be made for the sole purpose of obtaining satisfaction. But it was always understood, and it was most emphatically laid down, that this was not a punitive expedition to obtain satisfaction and get reparation. It was a Mission despatched to put our relations with the Tibetans on a regular footing, to establish ordinary neighbourly intercourse with them. Lord Lansdowne himself said in the House of Lords^[24]: “We desire that a new Convention should be entered into between the Government of India, on the one hand, and the Tibetans and Chinese, as the suzerain Power, on the other. That is the object of the Mission.” It is remarkable that a document which was so often quoted to the Russian Government, to the Indian Government, to the Chinese Government, and which the Indian Government on one occasion quoted to me in terms of admonition, should have described with so little precision the real purpose of the advance—and this at the culminating point of thirty years’ effort on the part of the Government of India. It was not till after the Mission had been attacked at Gyantse, and on account of that attack, that we demanded satisfaction—in the shape of an indemnity. The obvious purpose of the advance was to do what Warren Hastings had attempted, what the Government of Bengal since 1873 had been advocating—to put our intercourse with the Tibetans on proper terms. We had found it impossible to effect this object on the frontier or by negotiation with the Chinese Government. We were going to advance into Tibet, to Gyantse, to see if we could not effect it there, to get the frontier defined and recognized, to have the conditions under which trade could be carried on determined, and to have the method of communication between our officials and Tibetan officials clearly laid down. This, and not the obtaining of satisfaction, which is the business of a military commander in charge of a punitive expedition, was obviously the purpose of our advance into Tibet, and it is odd that this was not recognized in what was so often afterwards quoted as the fundamental statement of our policy.

The telegram was not very purposeful or instructive, but such as it was we were glad enough to get it. It at least allowed us to go to Gyantse, and though at the time when my advice was asked I said I did not think we should get the business really settled till we reached Lhasa, we certainly stood a better chance at Gyantse than at Khamba Jong. In all civilized countries envoys who have to negotiate a treaty go straight to the capital, and how it could ever have been expected that in Tibet, where all power was concentrated in a supposed god, who relied upon the support of Russia in any difficulties, we should have been able to negotiate a treaty at anywhere short of Lhasa, it is hard now to realize.

However, as I told Lord Curzon at his camp in Patiala, where I took leave of him on my return to Tibet, I meant to do my very best to get the thing through. He once more gave me the same warm encouragement he always extended to those in India whom he believed to be working well, and I left again for Darjiling.

While we were making preparations at Darjiling for the next move, correspondence was also taking place from headquarters. The Viceroy, in reply to a letter of the Lhasa Resident’s of October 17, stating that he had nominated a Colonel Chao in place of Mr. Ho, that he had asked the Dalai Lama to send a Councillor of State to accompany him (the Resident) to Khamba Jong, but that all this required time to settle, and asserting that the Tibetan passes were guarded by soldiers, and requesting the Viceroy, therefore, to instruct the British Commissioner not to move from the present camp, told the Resident that he understood that Colonel Chao was of lower, not higher, rank than Mr. Ho, and that, as the Resident’s departure was contingent on the Dalai Lama’s nomination of a Councillor, and as the Dalai Lama had for four months past failed to send, as desired, an officer of the highest rank, he saw no prospect of the Resident arriving at Khamba Jong within any reasonable time. The Viceroy then recapitulated our various grounds of complaint, and concluded by saying that, in these circumstances, he had no alternative but to transfer the place of negotiations to some more suitable spot, where he hoped they might be resumed. And as the Resident had stated that the Tibetan passes were guarded by soldiers, he had been compelled to take measures to insure the safety of the Commissioners in moving from Khamba Jong, and to prevent any possible interruption of communication with them.

The Chinese Government made on November 16 a protest to Lord Lansdowne against an advance, and hoped that I would be instructed to await the arrival of the new Resident, who, it will be remembered, had been instructed nearly a year previously to proceed as rapidly as possible to Lhasa; but Lord Lansdowne informed them that His Majesty’s Government had learnt by experience that the Tibetans systematically disregarded the injunctions of the Emperor and the Chinese Government, who had no real influence in restraining them from acts such as those we complained of. We had treated the Tibetans with the utmost forbearance, but these recent proceedings compelled us to exact satisfaction, and we could not remain inactive until the arrival of the new Resident, who had unnecessarily protracted his journey.

The Chinese Minister said that his Government recognized the forbearance shown by the British authorities towards the Tibetans, and also the friendly spirit brought by the British Commissioners to the discussion of frontier questions, and they hoped that we would recognize the difficult position in which China had been placed by her obstinate and ignorant vassal, and enjoin our Commissioners to exercise patience and forbearance, and thus assist the Resident, who had been instructed to proceed in person to the frontier to bring the Tibetans to a juster sense of their duties and responsibilities as good neighbours.

To this Lord Lansdowne replied that the Chinese had hitherto signally failed in such attempts, and the attitude of the Tibetan authorities had of late been of increased hostility. It was impossible, therefore, for us to desist from the measures already sanctioned.

In the event, it turned out that the Resident never did meet me on the frontier, and that even his successor, when at last he arrived at Lhasa, did not care to meet me even at Gyantse, for the Tibetans, so he informed me, would not provide him with transport. Lord Lansdowne’s refusal to desist from action and pursue still further the policy of patience and forbearance was, therefore, amply justified by events.

But it was not only the Chinese Government who were now beginning to protest against our action. The Russian Government also began to move in the matter. Lord Lansdowne had on November 7, the day on which the forward move was sanctioned by Government, informed the Russian Ambassador^[25] that, owing to the outrageous conduct of the Tibetans, it had been decided to send our Mission, with a suitable escort, farther into the Tibetan territory, but that this step should not be taken “as indicating any intention of annexing, or even of permanently occupying, Tibetan territory.” And on November 17 Count Benckendorff called on Lord Lansdowne,^[26] and spoke in the most earnest tones of the effect which had been created in Russia by the announcement that we were about to advance into Tibet. He was instructed to remind Lord Lansdowne of the former statement he (Count Benckendorff) had made to him as to the manner in which the Russian Government regarded the Tibetan question. They could not help feeling that the invasion of Tibetan territory by a British force was calculated to involve a grave disturbance of the Central Asian situation, and it was most unfortunate that at that moment, when the Russian Government were disposed to enter into an amicable discussion of our relations at the various points where British and Russian interests were in contact—an allusion to the preliminary negotiations for the Anglo-Russian Agreement and entente cordiale—an event of this kind, so calculated to create mistrust on the part of Russia, should have occurred.

Lord Lansdowne expressed his great surprise at the excitement which the announcement of the advance seemed to have enacted. He had, he said, already pointed out to the Ambassador that Tibet was, on the one hand, in close geographical connection with India, and, on the other, far remote from any of Russia’s Asiatic possessions. Our interest in Tibetan affairs was therefore wholly different from any which Russia could have in them. He reminded Count Benckendorff that he had already explained to him that we had received the greatest provocation at the hands of the Tibetans, who had not only failed to fulfil their treaty obligations, but had virtually refused to negotiate with us. We had always been reluctant to entangle ourselves in quarrels with the Tibetans, but our forbearance had led them to believe that we could be ill-treated with impunity. Lord Lansdowne said he was firmly convinced that the Russian Government would not have shown as much patience as we had, and that they would have been at Lhasa by that time. He felt bound to add that it seemed to him beyond measure strange that these protests should be made by the Government of a Power which had, all over the world, never hesitated to encroach upon its neighbours when the circumstances seemed to require it. If the Russians had a right to complain of us for taking steps to obtain reparation from the Tibetans by advancing into Tibetan territory, what kind of language should we not be entitled to use in regard to Russian encroachments in Manchuria, Turkestan, and Persia.

Count Benckendorff asked him whether he had any objection to his saying that Government had approved of the advance into Tibetan territory with reluctance, and only because circumstances had made it inevitable, and that our sole object was to obtain satisfaction for the affronts we had received from the Tibetans; and Lord Lansdowne said that he had no objection to his making such a statement.

Despite Russian and Chinese protests, the advance to Gyantse was now irrevocably decided on, and once again we have now to ask, Was the Mission justified in advancing into Tibet? I have given all the reasons for thinking that the despatch of the Mission to Khamba Jong was justified. Was this further advance into the Chumbi Valley and to Gyantse equally necessary? Perhaps, if we had shown yet more patience and yet more forbearance, we might have effected our object without advancing by force into the country. Was this so?

What eventually occurred showed that there were no possible grounds for such a belief. Even when the Chinese Central Government were aroused, and had ordered the Resident to proceed to the frontier to settle matters, he was unable to get there. The Tibetans refused him transport, and when we reached Lhasa, in August of the following year, we found him to be practically a prisoner, and almost without enough to eat, as the Tibetans had prevented supplies of money from reaching him, and he had actually to borrow money from us. But it was with the Tibetans that we really wished to negotiate. Perhaps they would have come to terms with us if we had been a little less impatient and remained on the frontier? Perhaps they would have sent a Councillor, as we had asked, and negotiated a treaty? On this point, too, our later experience showed that we could not have relied. When we at length reached Lhasa I had to negotiate, not with one Councillor only, but with the whole Council; and not with the Council, but the Regent himself, to whom the Dalai Lama had entrusted his own seal and whom he had appointed in his place; and not with the Council and the Regent only, but with the National Assembly and three great monasteries in addition; and with all in the presence of the Chinese Resident himself. No one man would ever have been entrusted by them with power, and no one man would take responsibility. It was only with the whole together that it was possible to negotiate; and we could negotiate with the whole together no where but in Lhasa itself.

Granted all this, some may say, but even then was it worth incurring Russian resentment in order to settle a trumpery affair of boundary pillars and petty trade interests in a remote corner of our Empire? Now, I most fully sympathize with the Russian view. Our advancing into Tibet would—and, in fact, did—“involve a grave disturbance of the Central Asian situation.” The news of our signing a treaty in the Potala at Lhasa, and of the Dalai Lama having to flee, did produce a profound impression. But if the subject-matter of our dispute was small, there was small reason why the Russians should trouble us about it. The matter grew in dimension because the Tibetans, whom the Chinese suzerains themselves had characterized as obstinate and difficult to influence, had grown still more obstinate and still more difficult to influence, through their having led themselves to believe that they could count on Russian support. In view of Russian disclaimers, we can assume that the Russian Government gave them no intentional grounds for that belief. Nevertheless, they had it, and for practical purposes that was all that concerned us then. The reception of the Dalai Lama’s religious missions by the Czar, the Czarina, the Chancellor and Minister, and the subscriptions they had collected, together with the extraordinary belief they had that Russia was nearer to Lhasa than India was, had led the ignorant Dalai Lama to believe that he could count on Russian support against the British. One can quite realize that the Russians, with their thousands of Buddhist Asiatic subjects, and with the prospect that then seemed near of their absorbing Mongolia, and so possessing still more Buddhist subjects, would be sensitive of our acquiring a predominant influence with the Dalai Lama. But that is scarcely a reason why we should not take measures to counteract an influence which was already, and in hard fact proving, detrimental to our own interests by encouraging the Tibetans in the belief that they could with impunity ignore their treaty obligations. The Russian Government had no intention of sending an agent to Lhasa. Nevertheless, there was in Lhasa all the time a Russian subject who had more influence over the Dalai Lama than the Chinese Resident. When such was the condition of affairs, we could hardly defer to Russia in a matter concerning a country adjoining our frontier, but nowhere adjoining hers.

Just as the move to Khamba Jong a dozen miles inside the Tibetan frontier was most amply justified, so also was the move to Gyantse, halfway to the capital.