The very day that we arrived at Lhasa I made a commencement at negotiating a treaty based on the terms set forth in the preceding chapter. I had already, before I left Gyantse and before Government had made up their minds as to the terms which should be asked, told the Tongsa Penlop informally what we were likely to ask, so that the Tibetans might have a rough idea of our demands; and as the Chinese Resident had intimated to me that he would come and visit me on the afternoon of our arrival, I thought it well to make a start with him at once.

The interview was interesting, for I had been waiting a year to see this Amban. I had seen Chinese officials in Peking; I had seen them at the extreme eastern end of the Empire in Manchuria; I had seen them at the extreme western end, in Chinese Turkestan; and I now saw them here at Lhasa. They were always exactly the same; in their official robes, dressed precisely alike, with the same good manners, the same dignity, the same air of something very much akin to superiority, and with the same evidence of solid intellectual capacity and sterling character. The Resident, Yu-tai, was not different from the rest. He was not, indeed, strikingly clever, and I did not see him at his best, for the recalcitrance of the Tibetans had put him in a most humiliating position, which he must have felt or he would not have paid me a visit before I had visited him. But he kept up appearances and made a brave show with all the aplomb of his race, and I had a real feeling of relief in talking to a man of affairs after so many long, dreary and ineffectual interviews with the obtuse and ignorant Tibetans.

I received him, as, indeed, I had received the Tibetans all through, at official interviews, in full dress uniform, with all my Political Staff in similar dress. He made the usual polite inquiries, and then said that he wished to work with me in effecting a speedy settlement with the Tibetans. He had hoped to meet me before, and had hastened to Lhasa at unusual speed, but the Tibetans had refused to furnish him with transport, and he had, therefore, been unable to proceed beyond Lhasa. I said I quite appreciated the difficulties he must have had with the Tibetans, for I had had some experience of them now, and a more obstructive people I had never come across. He agreed that they were an exceedingly obstinate people. He said he feared I must have had a very unpleasant time at Gyantse, and I told him that we had come there to negotiate, and not to fight, and therefore had very few soldiers with us at the time the attack was made. Later on, General Macdonald arrived with reinforcements, and the Tibetans had to suffer heavily for their misconduct. On the present occasion, however, we had come ready either to negotiate or to fight. We were prepared to negotiate; but if the Tibetans were obstinate, we would not hesitate to fight. I should be glad if he would impress upon the Tibetans with all his power that we were no longer to be trifled with.

I added that one of the conditions we intended to impose was an indemnity, to cover part of the cost of military operations, and I should be asking them Rs. 50,000 per diem from the date the Mission was attacked up to a month after the date the Convention was signed. Every day they took in negotiation would cost them Rs. 50,000, so the sooner they concluded an agreement the better. The Amban thought this would be an effective way of dealing with them, and he promised to urge the Tibetans to be reasonable, and make a settlement without further loss of time.

The Resident made a special present of food to the troops, and he had already, at my request, collected two days’ supplies.

The next day I had to return his visit, and now arose a problem. His residence was on the far side of the city, and the point was whether we should ride through Lhasa or round it. It was risky to ride through this sacred city, swarming with monks who had organized the opposition against us. We had been so recently fighting against them that we could not be sure of their attitude. Peace was not yet concluded, and they had shown no signs, so far, of really negotiating, but had, on the contrary, been doing their best to stave us off from Lhasa. So our reception was uncertain, and, if anything happened to us, the matter-of-fact, common-sense person at home would, without compunction, have criticized me for running the risk without any necessity. But from my point of view there was a necessity. All this trouble had arisen through the Tibetans being so inaccessible and keeping themselves so much apart; and now I meant to close in with them, to break through their seclusion, to brush aside their exclusiveness, and to let them see us and us see them as the inhabitants of the rest of the world see each other; and I meant to make a beginning at once. So I determined now, on the very first day after our arrival, to ride right through the heart of the city of Lhasa.

The Chinese Resident sent his bodyguard with pikes, and three-pronged spears, and many banners to escort us, and of our own troops I took two companies of the Royal Fusiliers and the 2nd Mounted Infantry. Two guns and four companies of infantry were also kept in readiness in camp to support us at a moment’s notice.

Many a traveller had pined to look on Lhasa, but now we were actually in this sacred city, it was, except for the Potala, a sorry affair. The streets were filthily dirty, and the inhabitants hardly more clean than the streets; the houses were built of solid masonry, but as dirty as the streets and inhabitants; and the temples we passed, though massive, were ungainly. Only the Potala was imposing; it rose from the squalid town at its base in tier upon tier of solid, massive masonry, and, without any pretence at architectural beauty or symmetry, was impressive from its sheer size and strength and dominating situation.

We passed numbers of clean-shaven, bare-headed monks from the great monasteries round, one of which alone held 8,000. They were a dirty, degraded lot, and we all of us remarked how distinctly inferior they were to the ordinary peasantry and townsmen we met. The monks, as a rule, looked thoroughly lazy and sensual and effete; the countrymen and the petty traders in the town were hardy, cheery people, and as we rode through the city really paid very little attention to us.

The Resident, with his staff, received me in the usual pagoda-shaped, Chinese official residence. He again referred to the obstinate and insubordinate attitude assumed by the Tibetans, and said that in Eastern Tibet they had given the Chinese a great deal of trouble. I expressed my opinion that the Tibetans were grossly ungrateful, for they owed much to the Chinese, and certainly, after the Sikkim campaign, they would not have come off so easily in the ensuing settlement if the Chinese had not interceded on their behalf. It was merely on account of the friendly feeling we entertained towards the Chinese that the settlement we then made was so light. Now, however, that they had repudiated the settlement which the Amban had made on their behalf, and had otherwise offended us, the new settlement would, of course, be more severe, and I should be greatly obliged if the Amban would make them understand from the start that the terms which I was going to demand from them would have to be accepted.

The Amban asked me if I would give him the terms. I replied that if he would send over one of his Secretaries to Mr. Wilton, he would inform him of them and explain them to him, and the Amban and I could then talk the matter over at an early opportunity.

I then asked the Amban if he would get the Tibetans to depute two or three representatives for the special purpose of negotiating a settlement with me. A variety of delegates had been sent to meet me on the way up, but it was desirable that the same men, without change, should continue to negotiate with me till the settlement was arrived at. The Amban promised to arrange this. After apologizing for introducing business matters into the conversation during my first visit to him, I took leave of the Amban and returned to camp by a dÉtour through the heart of the city.

Two of the Councillors, with two Secretaries, called upon me on the following day with 280 coolie-loads of tea, sugar, dried fruits, flour, peas, and butter, and bringing also 20 yaks, 50 sheep, and Rs. 1,500 in cash. With the object of getting into the next best house in Lhasa, I made a pretence of wishing to go into the Dalai Lama’s Summer Palace, which was in the plain close by, and eventually arranged that the house of the first Duke in Tibet should be at my disposal. This would contain the whole of my staff, as well as an escort of two companies, and was therefore, both for purposes of possible defence and also for receptions, much more suitable than a camp in the open plain.

I had now got into touch with both the Chinese Resident and the highest Tibetan officials, and I was also on the same day—August 5—to see the two men who were eventually to be of the greatest help to me as intermediaries—the Nepal representative who was permanently stationed at Lhasa, and the old Tongsa Penlop of Bhutan, who had just arrived from Gyantse.

Captain Jit Bahadur had been many years in Lhasa, and was much respected. He had very courteous manners, and was much more quick and alert than the Tibetans. He had orders from his Government to give me every assistance, and no one could have been more helpful.

The Tongsa Penlop had neither the local knowledge nor the quickness of Captain Jit Bahadur; but he was a man of more importance—he is indeed now Maharaja of Bhutan—and his representations carried weight. He and Mr. White soon made a firm friendship, and together they did much to bring the negotiations through.

There was still no sign, though, of any definite delegates being appointed to negotiate with me, and on August 8 I had to report to Government that the Tibetan Government was in utter confusion. My old friend the Ta Lama had been disgraced, as, poor man, he always told me he would be if we advanced to Lhasa. My other friend the Yutok Sha-pÉ, who had met me at Nagartse, had very sensibly, or perhaps naturally, gone sick. Of the two remaining Councillors, one was useless and the other inimical. The National Assembly sat continuously, but only criticized what anyone did, and was afraid to do anything itself without reference to the Dalai Lama. And the Dalai Lama, who had fled on our approach to Lhasa and was three days distant, would not in his turn act without sanction of the Assembly. Everyone was in fear, not now of us, but of his next-door neighbour: and each was working against the other. No attempt at commencing negotiations had been made, though I had given the Resident an outline of our terms. The Tongsa Penlop and the Nepalese representative constantly visited me, but expressed despair at the silliness of the Tibetans, and said their heads ached with arguing with them. The general attitude of the Tibetans, though exasperating, was, I thought, probably more futile and inept than intentionally hostile, But yet it was not easy to see then how in my limited time I was to get a definite treaty signed, sealed, and delivered out of such an intangible, illusive, un-get-at-able set of human beings as I now found in front of me.

The very next day, though, a ray of light appeared which was in the end to show the way to a solution of our difficulties. The Nepalese representative came to inform me that on the previous night he went to see the Ti Rimpoche, the Regent to whom the Dalai Lama had handed over his seal, and had explained to him that matters were getting serious. The Regent replied that he and the Dalai Lama’s brother were anxious to make a settlement, and were of opinion that the Government terms might well be accepted with two or three modifications. The Regent thought that the amount of indemnity I had named—Rs. 50,000 a day—was excessive. And he would ask that if they released the two Lachung men we should release the yaks and men whom we had seized last year in retaliation. With those modifications he thought the National Assembly might reasonably accept our terms.

The Nepalese representative said the Regent was a moderate man, more inclined to make a peaceful settlement than the generality of the National Assembly. Captain Jit Bahadur having hinted that the Regent and the Dalai Lama’s brother were anxious to visit me, I told him to let the Regent know that I would be glad to receive him; and I asked him to tell the Regent from me that we had no wish to be other than on friendly terms with the Tibetans. We had no desire to make war upon them or object to gain by it; we did not wish to annex their country; and the Viceroy had given me the very strictest orders to respect their religion, so that when I heard from him (the Nepalese representative) and the Tongsa Penlop that the Tibetans considered the Summer Palace a sacred building, I had consented to take up my residence elsewhere, even though at inconvenience to myself. But while we had thus no wish to make war, and were prepared to respect their religion, the Tibetans were putting me in a very difficult position. They had asked me to stop hostilities, saying they wished to make a settlement, but although they had been acquainted with the terms for three weeks, and I had already been here a week, yet not one word of negotiation had yet passed between me and them. Nor had they made proper efforts to furnish the troops with supplies. If they failed to negotiate, what could I do? It seemed to me that the Tibetans were like men in a bog. They were sinking deeper and deeper. Last year they were in up to their knees only. A month ago they were up to their waists. Now they were up to their necks. And in a short time, if they would not accept the hand which was stretched out to them by the Regent, they would be in over their heads.

I called upon the Chinese Resident on the 10th and impressed upon him the responsibility which lay on the Chinese Government to induce the Tibetans to make a settlement. He said he was most anxious to work with me, and had sent a message to the Dalai Lama to return. But I heard from other sources that the Dalai Lama was now eight marches off, and had with him the Siberian Buriat Dorjieff, to whom the Tibetans attributed all their troubles, but who was reported to have very sagaciously advised the Dalai Lama to retire for a bit, as the English would soon calm down and disappear again like the bubbles in boiling water which subside when the water has cooled.

The Tibetans’ so-called reply to our terms was the next day communicated by the Resident’s secretary to Mr. Wilton. The Tibetans refused each single point, and said that an indemnity was due from us to them rather than from them to us. The only trade-mart they would concede was Rinchengong, which was scarcely two miles beyond Yatung. I had the document returned to the Resident with a message that I could not officially receive so preposterous a reply.

The Resident called upon me the next day and said he had received a reply to our terms, but it was so impertinent he could not even mention it to me officially. He had sent it back to the Tibetans censuring them for their stupidity, and ordering them to send a more fit reply. He had pointed out to them their folly in not settling with us, and how impossible it was for them to contend against us.

He then made a singularly interesting remark. The ordinary people, he said, were not at all ill-disposed towards us. They liked us, and were anxious to trade with us. Reports of our treatment of the wounded, and of the liberal payment we made for supplies, had spread about the country, and the people in general would be glad enough to make a settlement and be on good terms. Where the opposition came from was from the Lamas, more especially those of the three great monasteries. They and they alone were the obstructionists, and if they were out of the way there would be no more trouble, and the people would speedily be friends with us.

I told the Amban that this was extremely interesting and gratifying to hear, and that what he had said entirely bore out my own conclusions. It made me all the more sorry that so many of these poor peasants with whom we had no quarrel, and who only wished to be friendly with us, should have been killed, and this was one consideration which was restraining us from fighting now. I had on several occasions during the recent fighting gone round the dead Tibetans, and invariably found that they were peasants. A Lama was never seen. If we could be quite sure that the originators of all this fighting would fight themselves, I was not sure that we would have been so ready to suspend hostilities.

Before the close of his visit I asked the Amban if the Nepalese and Kashmiris kept on good terms with the Tibetans here. He replied that they got on well enough with the ordinary people, but avoided the Lamas, as contact with them was liable to lead to trouble. He added that the Nepalese representative had been ordered by the Prime Minister of Nepal to advise the Tibetans to be reasonable and come to a settlement with us, and to tell them that the British respected the religion of others and would not interfere with theirs. I said I had heard of this, and if the Tibetans had only followed this good advice, which was given a year ago, we might have settled up everything at Khamba Jong. What the Prime Minister of Nepal had said about the tolerance of other religions was perfectly true. We had many millions of Buddhists under our rule, about 200,000,000 Hindus, and 70,000,000 Mohammedans. The Tibetan fear that we would interfere with their religion was altogether unfounded. The Amban replied that they were so jealous of their religion that they tried to prevent even Chinese Buddhists of other sects from their own from entering Tibet.

On August 13 two Sha-pÉs, the Dalai Lama’s private Abbot, a Secretary of Council, and the Accountant-General paid me a formal visit. I remarked that the Amban had told me that they had drawn up a document which they had presented to him as a reply to our terms, but which was so impertinent that the Amban had said he could not even mention it to me officially. The deputation replied that they were really anxious to make a settlement, and the document they had presented to the Amban merely represented their views, and was not intended as a reply to me. Their idea was to give the Amban their opinion, and he would give orders upon it.

I asked them whether they were prepared to obey the orders of the Amban. They said that if the Amban gave orders acceptable to both them and him they would obey. I asked them if by that they meant that they would obey his orders if they liked them, but would pay no attention to them if they were not according to their taste. They replied that their idea was that the Amban should act as a sort of mediator. We would both present our views to him, and he would decide between us, and make a settlement satisfactory to both. When they had stated their case to him they had no intention to be impertinent; they were a small people, and ignorant of the ways of great nations; they thought that if they asked much at first, they might not obtain all they asked, but would obtain a part.

I told them I had already warned the Amban that I was not here to act the part of a merchant in the bazaar and haggle over terms. When I arrived at Khamba Jong last year, I had, indeed, then been prepared to discuss the terms of a settlement, and by give and take arrive at a mutually satisfactory agreement. I had, for instance, announced that we were prepared to concede the Giagong lands to them if they showed themselves reasonable in regard to trade concessions elsewhere. But they had declined to negotiate, and had chosen to fight. They had been beaten, and had no further means of continuing the struggle against us. They must, therefore, accept our terms or expect us to take still further action against them. The terms we were now asking were extremely moderate, but if we were compelled to undertake more military operations they would have to be made much more severe.

They begged me to be more reasonable and to discuss things more quietly; they said they were accustomed to talk matters over at great length; they hoped that the Resident would be able to persuade me to be more considerate; and they suggested that I should ask the Viceroy to let me demand easier terms from them. I reminded them that they had been aware of the terms for three weeks now, and I had been ready, on the way up here, to explain them to them. I had now been ten days at Lhasa; they had not yet come to talk to me about them; and I had heard from the Resident that, so far from showing any inclination to agree with them, they had written about them in very impertinent terms. They must not be surprised, therefore, that my patience was exhausted. The terms which I had shown them were issued by command of the British Government, and no reference to His Excellency the Viceroy would have the slightest effect in modifying them.

The next day I had a much more interesting interview. The Ti Rimpoche himself came to see me. He was the Chief Doctor of Divinity and Metaphysics of Tibet, and was an old and much respected Lama, to whom the Dalai Lama had left his seals of office and whom he had appointed Regent. He remembered seeing Huc and Gabet as a boy, and he was a cultured, pleasant-mannered, amiable old gentleman, with a kindly, benevolent expression. He was accompanied by the Nepalese representative, and brought with him a present of gold-dust and some silk from the Dalai Lama’s brother.

After some polite observations, he asked me whether we English believed in reincarnation. I said we believed that when we died our bodies remained here and our souls went up to heaven. He said that that might happen to the good people, but where did the bad people go to? I replied that we had no bad: we were all good. He laughed, and said that, at any rate, he hoped that both of us would be good during this negotiation. Then we might both go to heaven. I said I had not the smallest doubt that we should.

He then said he would have liked to come and see me before, but was afraid of the Sha-pÉs. He told me how he had been hastily summoned by the Dalai Lama a few weeks ago, but on his arrival had found the Dalai Lama had fled. He had greatly disliked taking up political business, for he had spent his whole life in religious study, and was altogether ignorant of the methods of public affairs. But the Sha-pÉs and people in the palace had given him a message from the Dalai Lama, handing over the Dalai Lama’s seal to him, and telling him he was to act as Regent during the Dalai Lama’s absence.

The Ti Rimpoche then stated that what he had come to see me about was to ask me to show consideration towards their religion, and not destroy their monasteries. When he had come to look into affairs, he had convinced himself that those responsible for the conduct of them had acted very stupidly, and should have made a settlement with us long ago. Now they were beaten and had to accept our terms, but he hoped we would show them consideration. They were sending to the Dalai Lama to return, and he thought he ought to be here to make a settlement with us.

I told him that I thoroughly sympathized with him in the very unpleasant position in which he was placed. Others had brought trouble upon the country, and he had been called in at the last moment to repair the mischief. But while he was in an awkward position, I hoped he would realize the difficulty in which I also was placed. I had received the orders of the Viceroy to show the utmost consideration to their religion. I had also received orders to make a settlement on the terms which had been determined on by the British Government. But the settlement on these terms had to be made with the National Assembly, which was almost entirely composed of ecclesiastics. The Resident had told me yesterday that the reply which they had made to our terms was so impertinent that he dare not even mention it to me officially. If, then, this assembly of ecclesiastics refused our terms, what was I to do? I had to show consideration to them and their monasteries because of their sacred calling. I had also to get my terms agreed to. Could he suggest any way of doing this except by force?

The Ti Rimpoche said he altogether disagreed with the reply which had been sent to the Amban, but the others were determined to send it; not that they really meant what they said, but they thought that if they put their case strongly at the beginning, they might get easier terms out of me. He again begged me, however, to show consideration.

I said I would be very much obliged to him if he would at the earliest opportunity try to persuade the National Assembly that I was not here to bargain over terms. I was here, by direction of the Viceroy, to carry out the commands of the British Government in making a settlement. The terms of that settlement were drawn up with an especial regard for their religion. We were annexing no part of Tibet; we were not asking for an agent here at Lhasa itself; but we had to ask for an indemnity, because the military operations which had been forced on us in 1888 and in the present year had cost a very great deal of money. The Tibetans had caused the trouble. We had, therefore, to ask them to pay at least a part of the expense. We knew, however, that Tibet was too poor a country to pay the whole. We were, therefore, asking scarcely half of the real cost, and we expected that the Tibetans would give us, who had to suffer by having to pay the remainder of the cost, the advantage of being able to come to Tibet to buy wool and other things which were produced more cheaply here than in India, and of selling to the Tibetans the surplus of articles produced more cheaply in India.

The Regent said he thought this quite reasonable, and he would explain my view to the National Assembly. As to the Dalai Lama, I said I was quite prepared to give him the most positive assurance that he would be safe from us if he returned here. I did not wish to discuss personally with him the details of the settlement, but wished him to affix his seal in my presence; and it would certainly be more convenient if he were nearer Lhasa for reference during the negotiations. The Regent said he would send two messengers to him to-morrow, advising him to return. The trouble was, though, that he had nobody about him to advise him properly. At the close of the interview I told the Ti Rimpoche that I should be glad to see him again. He was an old man, and was, I knew, very busy just now, but whenever he liked to come and talk with me I should be most pleased to receive him.

The first sign of yielding came on August 15, when the Resident intimated to me that he had pressed the Tibetan Government to make a start towards a settlement by releasing the two Lachung men (British subjects) who had been seized last year beyond Khamba Jong, and that the Tibetan Government had agreed. He wished to know when and in what manner they should be handed over. I informed him that they should be handed over to me the next morning by two members of the Council.

That morning I held a full Durbar, and two members of Council, accompanied by two Lamas, brought the two Lachung men before me. I told the men, who showed the liveliest satisfaction at their impending release, that I had received the commands of the King-Emperor to obtain their release from the Tibetan Government, and they were now free. His Majesty had further commanded that if they had been ill-treated reparation should be demanded from the Tibetan Government. I wished to know, therefore, if they had been ill-treated or not. They said they had been slightly beaten at Shigatse, and their things had been taken from them, but since their arrival in Lhasa they had been well fed and had not been beaten. I told them that they would be examined by a medical officer, to ascertain if their statements were correct.

I then turned to the Tibetan Councillors and said that the King-Emperor considered the seizure, imprisonment, and beating of two of his subjects as an exceedingly serious offence. It formed one of the main reasons why the Mission had moved forward from Khamba Jong to Gyantse, and one of the principal terms of the settlement, which I had been commanded to make at Lhasa itself, was the release of these men. If the Tibetan Government had not cared to have them in Tibet they should have returned them across the frontier, or, in any case, have handed them over to us at Khamba Jong. Their seizure and imprisonment for a year was altogether unpardonable. I trusted they now understood that the subjects of the King-Emperor could not be ill-treated with impunity, and that we would in future, as we did now, hold them strictly responsible for the good treatment of British subjects in Tibet.

The Lachung men were then taken out and examined by a medical officer, in the presence of Mr. White and two Tibetan officials. The medical officer reported that there were no signs on their bodies of their having been beaten, and that they were in good condition. On receiving this report I expressed my satisfaction that the ill-treatment had not been severe. I would not, therefore, press the matter of reparation; but imprisonment for a year was in itself sufficiently bad treatment to British subjects who had committed no offence, and we expected that no British subjects would ever be so treated again. The Sha-pÉs promised to respect the subjects of His Majesty in future. They expressed their pleasure that one of the terms of the settlement had been concluded, and hoped, now a start was made, an agreement would quickly be come to. It was, at any rate, their intention to proceed as rapidly as possible in their discussions. It subsequently transpired that the two men had been kept separately in dungeons, twenty-one steps below the surface of the ground, and had not seen daylight for nearly a year. But as they were in excellent health and well fed, and as we had, while at Khamba Jong, seized over 200 yaks in retaliation, I did not pursue the matter farther. The most satisfactory feature in this affair was the fact that the release had taken place entirely on the initiative of the Amban.

I visited the Resident on the following day, and thanked him for procuring the release of the two Sikkim men. He said he would denounce the Dalai Lama to the Emperor if he did not come back, and would summon the Tashi Lama, with a view to making him the head of the whole Buddhist Church in Tibet. He also said that he recognized the Ti Rimpoche, who held the seal left by the Dalai Lama, as the principal in the negotiations. This was a decided advance, though it had taken a fortnight of my precious six weeks to make; and I was also able to report to Government that the general situation was certainly improving; that supplies, which at first we had been only able to secure by the threat of force and by surrounding a monastery, were now coming in steadily; and people were showing growing confidence, while even the National Assembly were slowly giving way, and the party in favour of settlement were increasing in influence.

On August 19 the Resident visited me, and handed to me the second reply of the Tibetan Government to his letter forwarding to them the terms of the settlement we now wished to make with them. The first reply he had been unable to forward, as it was too impudent. This second reply, he said, I would find on perusal was more satisfactory, though it still fell short of what he would expect the Tibetans to agree to.

I told the Resident that I found it difficult to make the Tibetans realize that the main points in the settlement we should expect them to agree to without question. The period in which the indemnity was to be paid might be a matter for discussion, but there was no question as to its having to be paid some time. Similarly, they must agree to having marts at Gyantse and Gartok. I remarked that I had all along been of opinion that nothing could be got out of these Tibetans except by pressure, and I was fully prepared to act. At the same time, it would be much more satisfactory if the needful pressure could be put on by the Resident, as I had no wish to take more action unless absolutely compelled to.

I added that a difficulty I experienced in dealing with the Tibetans was in talking with so many representatives at the same time. Half a dozen delegates would come to me, and each one insist upon having his say, and no responsible head was recognized. The Amban said that he, too, had had this difficulty, but that he had recognized the Regent as the principal in these negotiations, and from now on he intended to negotiate with him alone; he was the best man among the leading Tibetans, and came next after the Dalai Lama in the Lhasa province. I said this seemed to me a wise course, for I had found the Regent a sensible man, and he was much respected by the people.

As regards the Convention itself, the Amban said he would have to discuss the clause regarding trade-marts with me. I said I was prepared to talk the matter over, but we should have to insist upon establishing trade-marts at Gyantse and Gartok, and I did not understand the Tibetan objections to the establishment of a mart at Gyantse, for we had the right more than a century ago to have one even at Shigatse. This right had not been exercised for a great number of years, but at one time Indian traders visited Shigatse regularly.

We now received certain information that the Dalai Lama had finally fled. He had written to the National Assembly, saying that the English were very crafty people, and warning them to be careful in making an agreement with them, and to bind them tight. He added that he himself would go away and look after the interests of the faith. His departure was not regretted by Tibetans.

The Ti Rimpoche and others came to me on the 21st with silks to the value of Rs. 5,000, which I had imposed as a fine for the assault which a monk with a sword had made just outside our camp on Captains Cooke-Young and Kelly, dealing the former a very severe blow over the head. After this the Ti Rimpoche, the Tongsa Penlop, and the Nepalese representative proceeded to talk over the general situation. The Ti Rimpoche said that he himself had no objection to our terms except in regard to the indemnity, which he thought was too heavy, as Tibet was a poor country. He pointed out the difficulty which the Tibetans had found in paying up the small fine I had imposed on them, and asked how they could be expected to pay the sum of Rs. 50,000 a day which I was demanding. He said, of course, we thought ourselves in the right in this quarrel, but it was difficult for him to make the Assembly acquiesce in this view, and it might be well if I would impress our views upon them.

I said that if only they had behaved more sensibly in the beginning all this trouble would have been saved: there would have been no war, and no indemnity would have been asked. We had not wished for war, and I had gone with Captain O’Connor, without any escort, into their camp at Guru in January to reason quietly with the leaders there, and ask them to report my views to Lhasa. If we had wanted war I should never have so acted. That I did was proof that we wished for peace. But they refused to report my words to Lhasa, and hence this trouble. The Ti Rimpoche here interpolated that they were afraid to report anything to the Dalai Lama. I went on to say that it was not fair to expect India to pay all the cost of a war brought on by the foolishness of the Tibetan rulers, so we had to ask that the Tibetans should pay part of the sum. Yet even now we were not asking for more than half of the whole cost. I was demanding Rs. 50,000 a day from the date of the attack on the Mission till a month after the date on which the Convention was signed. The Ti Rimpoche would note that I was not asking payment from the date of the Guru fight, because that fight might have been due to mere foolishness on the part of the leaders, but from the date when the Tibetans deliberately attacked the Mission at Gyantse, after I had repeatedly notified that I had come to negotiate. From that date, therefore, we expected them to contribute to the cost of military operations.

The Ti Rimpoche had said that the Tibetans had very little cash. If that was so, I was prepared to consider the question of extending the period in which the payment of the indemnity could be made. I would also consider whether some of it could not be paid in kind to the trade agent in Gyantse and the officer commanding in Chumbi. The Ti Rimpoche said he wished the settlement with us to be fully completed now, so that we could have it over and be friends; but if the Tibetans had to go on paying us an indemnity for some years after, the raw would be kept up, and friendship would be difficult. I replied that if they would now at once pay the indemnity, we should be only too glad. But, in any case, we would not on our side harbour any ill-feelings towards the Tibetans, with whom we had no other desire than to live on terms of friendship.

The Tongsa Penlop then said that Tibet, Nepal, and Bhutan were bound together by the same religion, and all bordered on India. They ought, therefore, to look on England as their friend and leader. The English had no wish to interfere with them, but did not like anyone else interfering. They ought to stand together, therefore, for if one was hurt all were hurt. They could rely, however, on their big neighbour England to help them in time of trouble if they kept on good terms with her. The Nepalese representative agreed with the Tongsa Penlop that all four countries should be on terms of friendship with one another, and that Tibet, Nepal, and Bhutan should always preserve good relations with their neighbour England. The Ti Rimpoche said he trusted that when this settlement was made Tibet and England would always be on terms of friendship. The Tibetans had no wish to have relations with any other Power, and desired now to keep on good terms with England. I replied that we had been on perfectly good terms with Tibet for more than a century up till the time of the Sikkim War, and I hoped that when the present settlement was made we should be friends for ever.

I visited the Resident on August 21, and told him I had perused the Tibetan reply to him which he had handed to me at our last meeting. It was more satisfactory than the first reply, and there were some points which the Tibetans would now evidently agree to. I proposed, then, that we should get these points settled first and out of the way, so as to make a start, and then work on to the more contentious clauses.

I then remarked that I had heard the Dalai Lama had without any doubt whatever fled the country. The Amban said this was true, and he was evidently not flying to China, but to the north—possibly to join the Great Lama at Urga. I said he would hardly be flying to China, for he would surely have obtained the Amban’s permission to proceed to Peking, or at least have informed him of his intention. The Amban replied that he had gone off without any warning, and he had now definitely decided to denounce him to the Emperor, and would to-day or to-morrow send me a telegram which he would ask me to have despatched to Peking as quickly as possible. I said I would do this service for him, and I considered he was acting with great wisdom in denouncing the Dalai Lama, for it was he who had brought all this trouble upon his country, and he deserved to suffer for it. I was not surprised, however, at so young a ruler coming to grief, for our experience in India was that a young chief, even when he had only temporal authority in his hands, was very liable to get into the power of unscrupulous and designing men, and rush off in a headstrong way on a foolish course. For a young Dalai Lama, who had not only temporal, but also supreme spiritual power, the tendency to go wrong must have been almost irresistible.

The Amban said this certainly had been the case with the present Dalai Lama, who had always been headstrong and obstinate, and had never followed good advice.

The four hostages which I had demanded, one from the Government and one from each of the great monasteries, for the good behaviour of the monks in future arrived on the 24th. They were in abject terror, and evidently thought they would have their heads cut off before their time was up. On the same day a proclamation was posted up in Lhasa by the Government, forbidding the people to interfere with foreigners in any way. This and the hanging of the monk who had made the murderous assault on the two British officers had the effect of stopping all other fanatical assaults, and after the treaty was signed I returned the fine and let out the hostages, who, much to their surprise, had had a very good time with us and been treated royally.

There was a considerable pause now in the course of the negotiations, though Captain O’Connor the whole time was, day by day and all day long, interviewing innumerable Tibetans of every grade; while Mr. White and I used to see the Tongsa Penlop and the Nepalese representative, and think of any means of getting over the difficulty about the indemnity. On August 28 the Ti Rimpoche, the Yutok Sha-pÉ, and the Tsarong Sha-pÉ, accompanied by the Tongsa Penlop, called upon me. They announced that they had been deputed by the National Assembly to discuss the settlement direct with me, as they thought there was delay in dealing through the Resident. I remarked that I understood they were fairly well agreed to accede to all our terms except in regard to the indemnity. They said they had written to the Amban, saying definitely that they would agree to all the terms except that regarding the payment of an indemnity, and except in regard to opening further marts in future. They expressed a wish to make the settlement directly with me, and when we had agreed upon it, then they would communicate the result to the Resident. I said that I should be ready to receive them whenever they wished to discuss matters with me. What I should tell them and what I should tell the Amban would be exactly the same, but if they liked to hear my views from me direct I would gladly receive them.

They then again announced that they were ready to agree to all our terms but one. The indemnity they could not pay. Tibet was a poor country, and the Tibetans had already suffered heavily during the war; many had been killed, their houses had been burnt, jongs and monasteries had been destroyed; and, in addition to all this evil, it was impossible for them to pay an indemnity as well. The little money they had was spent in religious services in support of the monasteries, in buying vessels for the temples and butter to burn before the gods. The peasants had to supply transport for officials, in addition, and there were no means whatever for paying the heavy indemnity we were demanding.

I replied that the war in Sikkim had cost us a million sterling, and the present war would cost another million. After the Sikkim War the Tibetans had repudiated the treaty which the Resident then made, and we might very justifiably now ask for an indemnity for the Sikkim War, as well as for this. We were, however, making no such demand, and we were only asking from Tibet half the cost of the present war. I knew, of course, that Tibet had suffered from the present war, but no such suffering need have occurred if they had negotiated with me at Khamba Jong in the previous year. And, while they had suffered, we also had not escaped without trouble. Captain O’Connor had himself been wounded, and what we looked upon as extremely serious in this matter was that the representative of the British Government should have been attacked. If they attacked the Resident here, they knew well how angry the Emperor of China would be. I quite recognized, however, the difficulty they had in paying the indemnity in cash within three years. I would, therefore, be prepared to receive proposals from them as to modifications in the manner of payment. If, for instance, they thought it impossible to pay the whole indemnity in three years, and would like the term extended to five, I would submit such a proposal for the orders of the Viceroy. Or, again, if they would prefer to pay the indemnity at the rate of a lakh of rupees a year for a long term of years, I would ask Government if the difficulty might be met in that way.

They expressed their disappointment at this answer, as they had hoped that when they had agreed to all our terms except this one I would have given way on it, and excused them paying the indemnity, and they trusted I would not send them back to the National Assembly with so disheartening an answer. In most cases of bargaining, if one party got half the things he had asked he would be satisfied. I had got all the points except one, and still was not satisfied. If I could not agree to that myself, would I not refer it to the Viceroy? If I did this they had great hopes the Viceroy would excuse them the indemnity.

I replied that a reference to the Viceroy would be of no use, for it happened that the terms I was now asking were modifications ordered by the British Government. The Ti Rimpoche said that if the British Government had been lenient once they might be lenient again, and asked me to put their petition before them. I replied that the British Government had considered this matter most carefully before issuing these demands, so if I now dared to suggest that one of them should not be carried out I should be immediately dismissed from my post. I was prepared, as I had said, to submit proposals for alternative methods of payment of the indemnity, and I would be also prepared to submit proposals for privileges of concessions in Tibet which might be taken in lieu of part of the indemnity, but the indemnity, in some manner or other, would have to be paid.

The Tsarong Sha-pÉ said we were accustomed to fish in the ocean, and did not understand that there were not so many fish to be got out of a well as could be caught from the sea. A field could only yield according to its size and the amount put into it. A poor peasant got only just enough from his field to support himself and his family, with a very little over for religious offerings. It was hard, therefore, that we should demand so much from Tibet, and the National Assembly would be very much disheartened at the result of this interview.

I replied that what they had agreed to was what cost them nothing, and was, indeed, to their advantage. The opening of trade-marts would in reality prove of much more benefit to them than to us. The only thing that really cost them anything they were consistently refusing. Even on that point I was prepared to make it as easy for them in carrying out as possible, and I could not acknowledge that they had any cause for complaint.

The Tongsa Penlop then said that he hoped I would take into consideration the sufferings the Tibetans had already gone through, and, if I could, lay the matter before the Viceroy. I told the Tongsa Penlop that I was always glad to hear suggestions from one who had proved himself so stanch a friend of the British Government, and if he could think of some way which would save India from being saddled with the cost of this war, and at the same time not weigh too heavily upon the Tibetans, he would be doing a service which would be appreciated by both the Government of India and the Tibetans.

I now came to the conclusion that the Tibetans were trying to make dissension between the Resident and myself, so I asked the Amban when he next came to see me to bring the Tibetan Members of Council with him. He came on the 30th, accompanied by the Acting Regent and three Members of Council. I told him that we had had some misunderstanding with the Tibetans as to what precisely they did and did not agree to. They had informed me on a previous occasion that they had sent him a written agreement to accept all our terms except that regarding the indemnity. I proposed, therefore, on this occasion to ascertain from them precisely what they did agree to point by point. I then addressed the Tibetans in regard to Clause IX., which was the one I understood they had least objection to. I explained to them that by it we had not the least desire to supplant China in the suzerainty of Tibet. The Chinese suzerainty was fully recognized in the Adhesion Agreement, which it was proposed the Resident should sign on behalf of the Chinese Government, and China was not included in the term “foreign Power.” We were not placing a British Resident here at Lhasa, and we were not asking for any railway or other concessions. What we asked in this clause was merely what was in accordance with their traditional policy. Did they agree to the clause?

They replied that they did not want to have anything to do with foreign Powers. They would, therefore, be able to agree to it.

The clause regarding the razing of fortifications was then discussed, and they began to raise objections, but I cut them short by observing that all the fortifications named were in our hands, and would be destroyed whether they agreed or not. The clause had been drafted by Government before the fortifications were in our possession. Their agreement was, therefore, merely a formality. They said that in that case they would agree.

We then discussed at length the clauses relating to the opening of new trade-marts. They had an idea we wished them to make a road from Gyantse to Gartok, and to make big roads by blasting. I assured them that all we wanted was that the roads from the frontier to Gyantse, and from the frontier to Gartok, should be kept in repair. We did not expect new roads to be constructed by them, but existing roads kept suitable for trade purposes.

The sentence regarding the opening of more trade-marts in future they very strongly objected to. I pointed out, however, that we were merely asking them to consider this, and not to decide on it now. I said we might reasonably have now demanded a mart here, at Lhasa itself, and in half a dozen other places, and I could not permit them to refuse merely considering the question of future extension. The Resident added that their objections were frivolous, and trade-marts were to their advantage. To the establishment of marts at Gyantse and Gartok they agreed, and the discussion having now lasted two hours, and I having told the Amban that we had done about as much as it was possible to do in one day, he dismissed them.

The next day the Ti Rimpoche, the Tongsa Penlop, and the Nepalese representative came to see me. The Ti Rimpoche said that there was a good deal of opposition to the clause regarding opening other trade-marts in future. The Tibetans did not wish to be bound by anything in regard to the future. I said it was really the least important sentence in the whole Convention. It secured nothing definite for us. It did not say, for instance, that after ten years a third trade-mart should be opened, but merely that the matter should be considered. Now, however, that the matter had, in the last official interview with the Amban, been put forward in official discussion by the Tibetan Council, I was bound to maintain the sentence. While I did not expect that they should now accede to the future opening of trade-marts, I could not accept their refusal to open them. The matter must remain, as stated in the draft Convention, one for future consideration.

The Ti Rimpoche then again dwelt upon the impossibility of paying what he considered so heavy an indemnity. He said, laughing, that we must remember the losses which not only we, but their own troops, had inflicted on the country. I repeated my old arguments as to the unfairness of saddling India with the whole cost of a war necessitated by the folly and stupidity of Tibetans. It was bad enough to impose on India half the cost, but anything more than that would be a great injustice. The Ti Rimpoche said that we were putting on the donkey a greater load than it could possibly carry. I replied that I was not asking the donkey to carry the whole load in one journey. It could go backwards and forwards many times, carrying a light load each journey. The Ti Rimpoche laughed again, and asked what would happen if the donkey died. I said I should ask the Resident to see that the donkey was properly treated, so that there should be no fear of its dying. Dropping metaphor, I told the acting Regent I was really quite prepared to receive proposals as to easier methods of paying the indemnity. If, for instance, they could not pay the full amount in three years, I would receive and consider proposals as to paying in a larger number of years, or any other reasonable proposal.

The Ti Rimpoche replied that the Tibetans disliked the idea of prolonging the time during which they would be under obligation to us. They wanted to settle the business up at once and have done with it. I asked him if, in that case, he had any other suggestions to make. He made none, but the Tongsa Penlop suggested to him that the Tibetans should let us collect the Customs duties at the new trade-marts, and get the amount of the indemnity from that source. The Ti Rimpoche said that, while he personally saw the wisdom of agreeing to our terms, he could not persuade the National Assembly to be reasonable. I said I quite saw that he was more sensible than the National Assembly, and that he was doing his best to bring them to reason. When, therefore, I used hard words and employed threats, he must consider them as directed at the stupid, obstructive people, and not at himself personally.