Sudden occupation of Korean harbour by Great Britain—Questioned by China, Japan, and Korea—Position condemned by naval authority—Abandoned on guarantee from China against occupation by other Powers.
"In view of potentialities" the British Government on April 14, 1885, sent instructions to Vice-Admiral Dowell to occupy Port Hamilton, an island harbour on the coast of Korea. This high-handed proceeding was justified on the plea of necessity—the necessity, as explained by Lord Granville, of anticipating the "probable occupation of the island by another Power." Naturally the measure disturbed neighbouring States, as well as the Government of Korea itself. China and Japan asked for explanations, and an agreement with the former, as suzerain of Korea, was about to be signed for the temporary use of the harbour by Great Britain, when the Russian Minister at Peking interposed with an intimation that if China consented to the occupation of Port Hamilton by Great Britain, Russia would compensate herself by the seizure of some other point of the Korean littoral. The protest of the Korean Government thus became merged in negotiations with China, but was never withdrawn.
While these pour-parlers were going on, the position of Port Hamilton was unequivocally condemned as a naval station by a succession of three admirals commanding the China Squadron; and as the immediate occasion of the occupation of the harbour had happily passed, there remained no ostensible reason for prolonging it. Before abandoning the island, however, the British Government hoped that some arrangement might be come to for an international guarantee of the integrity of Korea, which being already a bone of contention between certain Powers, and unable to defend its own independence, constituted a constant menace to the peace of the Far East. The proposal met with no favour from the Chinese Government, for the reason probably that it would have involved an organic change in its own relations with Korea. The next proposal came from the Korean Government itself, which suggested a modus vivendi by opening as treaty ports both Port Hamilton and Port Lazareff, which latter was the point Russia would have seized if she had seized anything. This idea was approved of by the British Government, but nothing came of it. Eventually the evacuation was agreed to on the assurance from China that neither Port Hamilton nor any other portion of Korean territory would in future be occupied by any other Power. This pledge China was enabled to give on the strength of an equivalent guarantee which she had received from Russia, that Power being then the only one considered as likely to cherish aggressive designs on the Korean peninsula. These engagements were exchanged in November 1886, eighteen months after the occupation, and the British flag was finally hauled down on the island on February 27, 1887.
The net visible result of the incident was to confirm China in her suzerainty, since the negotiations were made with her and not with Korea, and to obtain a specific pledge from Russia that she would keep her hands off Korea "under any circumstances." It was argued seven years afterwards that Russia had broken her pledge by her interferences in Korean affairs, but in 1895 a new state of circumstances had been brought about. China in that year ceased to be the suzerain of Korea, and obligations which were valid under the old régime necessarily lapsed. A new page of history was turned, and Korea attained the status of a nominally independent kingdom.
IV. TIBET.
Lhassa visited by Babu Sarat Chandra Das—Proposed commercial expedition—Originated by Secretary of State—Envoy sent to Peking to obtain passport—Opposition organised by Chinese and Tibetans—Mission withdrawn.
The year 1885 witnessed the first act in the ill-advised policy—as to its method, not its object—of the Indian Government of opening commercial relations with Tibet. A learned Bengali pandit, versed in Tibetan, had made two successful visits to Lhassa, where he gained the friendship of the lamas, who invited him to come again. A fair prospect of opening commercial relations by gradually disarming prejudices and apprehension was thus presented. Having duly reported his experiences to the Government of India, the babu waited their pleasure as to further developments at Darjeeling, where he occupied the post of Government schoolmaster. An English civilian, making the acquaintance of the babu in that hot-weather retreat, conceived the idea of an official mission to Lhassa, in which the services of the babu might be utilised as guide and interpreter. The Indian Government was averse from the enterprise on economical if on no other grounds, but direct pressure being brought to bear on the India Office in London, the ambitious young statesman who then presided over its counsels is said to have espoused the proposal and overruled the reluctant Government of India.
Of the organisation and procedure of the mission nothing very complimentary can be said. Instead of following the line of least resistance, of driving in the thin end of the wedge, in accordance with the commonplace maxims consecrated by all human experience, the reverse process was followed in every single particular. Sarat Chandra Das had shown the way, and the entry he had effected could have been gradually widened by himself and others of his own class until the obstacles to free commercial intercourse had been overcome. The experience of a hundred years had shown to the world the invincible prejudices of the Tibetan rulers against foreign visitors. The babu had in his own person conquered these prejudices by his mastery of Buddhistic lore, as well as by his gentleness and consummate tact; but the mission, which had its origin in the information he supplied, discarded his methods and proceeded on military lines. Its personnel included politicals and scientists, but no commercial agent, and as Mr Gundry has well said, "The Under Secretary of State, while stating that the object of the mission was to confer with the Chinese commissioners and the Lhassa Government as to the resumption of commercial relations between India and Tibet," added in Parliament that, "looking to the delicate nature of the mission, it had not been thought advisable to appoint a special commercial representative." An armed force of some 300 men sent on a "delicate mission" which, though essentially commercial, yet had nothing commercial in its composition! Could anything be conceived more certain to arouse the sleeping suspicions of the Tibetans? It was but repeating on a larger scale the deplorable fiasco of Colonel Browne's attempted march from Burma to China in 1875.
The first act in this little drama was performed in Peking when the envoy, Macaulay, arrived with his staff for the ostensible purpose of applying for a passport for Tibet. For such a purpose there was no need to have sent a special messenger to Peking at all, as a passport could have been much more easily obtained by the British Minister there and transmitted by post in the ordinary course of business. The passport could not, of course, be refused in plain terms by the Chinese Government, but the personal demand for it gave them the opportunity of cross-examining the intended envoy as to the objects of his proposed mission. It may well be believed, from the self-contradictory explanation of the mission tendered to the British Parliament, that the envoy in Peking failed to allay the suspicions of the Chinese Government. On the contrary, his presence intensified them exceedingly. The sole effect of the preliminary expedition to Peking was, in fact, to forewarn the Chinese Government, so that they, in concert with the rulers of Tibet, should be prepared to interpose obstacles to the advance of the mission, but in such a way as not openly to compromise the good faith of the Chinese Government. The journey of the envoy to Peking, therefore, sealed the fate of his own mission, and at the same time closed Tibet against more judicious advances in the future.
The most interesting episode in connection with this abortive effort was the appearance of the Babu Sarat Chandra Das himself in the Chinese capital. By sheer force of intellect he succeeded in a few days in obtaining the confidence of the inner circle of the lamas there. Having been brought in contact with a certain Manchu official, the pandit showed very unobtrusively a familiarity with the more recondite tenets of Buddhism which captivated the Manchu, whose heart was set on improving his knowledge of the sacred mysteries.[24] The babu could speak no Chinese, but it was not difficult among the thousands of lamas in Peking to find a competent Tibetan interpreter. The fame of the pandit spread rapidly among the ranks of the priesthood, whose chiefs competed for the honour of sitting at the feet of the Indian Gamaliel. In expounding the doctrines, while enjoying the hospitality, of different groups of lamas, the popularity of the pandit grew from day to day, until he was at length constrained to take up his quarters at the great Yellow Temple, outside the north wall of Peking, and live with the brethren. They invested him with the yellow robe and the other ecclesiastical insignia, and treated him altogether as one of the initiated. It required all his acumen to prevent his status as a Buddhist lama from clashing with his position as a subordinate of the Indian envoy, on whom he was in attendance. He had to pay frequent visits to the British Legation, where it would have been impossible for him to appear in his religious vestments without exciting inconvenient gossip, and perhaps incurring the disapproval of his superior officer. The custom of travelling in Peking in closed carts enabled the babu to play the double part of Jekyll and Hyde with perfect success. He would leave the Temple as a lama, drive to a friend's rooms in the city, where his Indian costume was kept ready, in which he proceeded in another cab and in another character to the British Legation, returning to reassume his yellow robes and then repair to the Temple.