its site is one of enchanting beauty. Imagine in a mountain’s side a deep, broad ravine, adorned with fine trees, and harmonious with the cawing of rooks and yellow-beaked crows, and the amusing chattering of magpies. On the two sides of the ravine, and on the slopes of the mountain, rise, in an amphitheatrical form, the white dwellings of the Lamas of various sizes, but all alike surrounded with a wall, and surmounted by a terrace. Amidst these modest habitations, rich only in their intense cleanliness and their dazzling whiteness, you see rising, here and there, numerous Buddhist temples with gilt roofs, sparkling with a thousand brilliant colours, and surrounded with elegant colonnades. The houses of the superiors are distinguished by streamers floating from small hexagonal turrets; everywhere the eye is attracted by mystic sentences, written in large Thibetian characters, red or black, upon the doors, upon the walls, upon the posts, upon pieces of linen floating like flags, from masts upon the tops of the houses. Almost at every step you see niches in form resembling a sugar-loaf, within which are burning incense, odoriferous wood, and cypress leaves. The most striking feature of all, however, is to see an exclusive population of Lamas walking about the numerous streets of the Lamasery, clothed in their uniform of red dresses and yellow mitres. Their face is ordinarily grave; and though silence is not prescribed, they speak little, and that always in an under tone. You see very few of them at all about the streets, except at the hours appointed for entering or quitting the schools, and for public prayer. During the rest of the day, the Lamas for the most part keep within doors, except when they descend by narrow, tortuous paths to the bottom of the ravines, and return thence, laboriously carrying on their shoulders a long barrel containing the water required for domestic purposes. At intervals you meet strangers who come to satisfy a devotional feeling, or to visit some Lama of their acquaintance.
The Lamasery of Kounboum, indeed, enjoys so high a reputation, that the worshippers of Buddha resort thither in pilgrimage from all parts of Tartary and Thibet, so that not a day passes in which there are not pilgrims arriving and departing. Upon the great festivals, the congregation of strangers is immense, and there are four of these in the year, the most famous of all being the Feast of Flowers, which takes place on the fifteenth day of the first moon. Nowhere is this festival celebrated with so much pomp and solemnity as at Kounboum. Those which take place in Tartary, in Thibet, and even at Lha-Ssa itself, are not at all comparable with it. We were installed at Kounboum on the sixth of the first moon, and already numerous caravans of pilgrims were arriving by every road that led to the Lamasery. The festival was in every one’s
mouth. The flowers, it was said, were this year of surpassing beauty; the Council of the Fine Arts, who had examined them, had declared them to be altogether superior to those of preceding years. As soon as we heard of these marvellous flowers, we hastened, as may be supposed, to seek information respecting a festival hitherto quite unknown to us. The following are the details with which we were furnished, and which we heard with no little curiosity:—
The flowers of the fifteenth of the first moon consist of representations, profane and religious, in which all the Asiatic nations are introduced with their peculiar physiognomies and their distinguishing costumes. Persons, places, apparel, decorations—all are formed of fresh butter. Three months are occupied in the preparations for this singular spectacle. Twenty Lamas, selected from among the most celebrated artists of the Lamasery, are daily engaged in these butter-works, keeping their hands all the while in water, lest the heat of the fingers should disfigure their productions. As these labours take place chiefly in the depth of the winter, the operators have much suffering to endure from the cold. The first process is thoroughly to knead the butter, so as to render it firm. When the material is thus prepared, the various portions of the butter work are confided to various artists, who, however, all alike work under the direction of a principal who has furnished the plan of the flowers for the year, and has the general superintendence of their production. The figures, etc., being prepared and put together, are then confided to another set of artists, who colour them, under the direction of the same leader. A museum of works in butter seemed to us so curious an idea, that we awaited the fifteenth of the moon with somewhat of impatience.
On the eve of the festival, the arrival of strangers became perfectly amazing. Kounboum was no longer the calm, silent Lamasery, where everything bespoke the grave earnestness of spiritual life, but a mundane city, full of bustle and excitement. In every direction you heard the cries of the camels and the bellowing of the long-haired oxen on which the pilgrims had journeyed thither; on the slopes of the mountain overlooking the Lamasery arose numerous tents wherein were encamped such of the visitors as had not found accommodation in the dwellings of the Lamas. Throughout the 14th, the number of persons who performed the pilgrimage round the Lamasery was immense. It was for us a strange and painful spectacle to view that great crowd of human creatures prostrating themselves at every step, and reciting in under tones their form of prayer. There were among these Buddhist zealots a great number of Tartar-Mongols, all coming from a great distance. They were remarkable, alike, for their heavy, awkward gait, and for
the intense devotion and scrupulous application with which they fulfilled the exact rules of the rite. The Houng-Mao-Eul, or Long Hairs, were there too, and, their manners being in no degree better here than at Tang-Keou-Eul, the haughty uncouthness of their devotion presented a singular contrast with the fervent, humble mysticism of the Mongols. They walked proudly, with heads erect, the right arm out of the sleeve and resting on their sabre hilts, and with fusils at their backs. The Si-Fan of the Amdo country formed the majority of the pilgrims. Their physiognomy expressed neither the rough recklessness of the Long Hairs, nor the honest good faith and good nature of the Tartars. They accomplished their pilgrimage with an air of ease and nonchalance which seemed to say, “We are people of the place; we know all about the matter, and need not put ourselves at all out of the way.”
The head-dress of the Amdo women occasioned us an agreeable surprise; it was a little bonnet of black or grey felt, the form of which was identical with that of the bonnets which were once all the fashion in France, and which were called, if we remember aright, Chapeaux à la trois pour cent. The only difference was, that the riband by which the bonnet was tied under the chin, instead of being black, was red or yellow. The hair was allowed to fall from under the bonnet over the shoulders, in a number of minute braids, decorated with mother-of-pearl and coral beads. The rest of the costume was like that of the Tartar women, the weighty effect of the great sheepskin robe being, however, mightily modified by the little Chapeaux à la trois pour cent, which communicates a most coquettish air. We were greatly surprised to find among the crowd of pilgrims several Chinese who, chaplet in hand, were executing all the prostrations just like the rest. Sandara the Bearded told us they were Khata merchants, who, though they did not believe in Buddha at all, pretended intense devotion to him, in order to conciliate custom among his followers. We cannot say whether this was calumny on Sandara’s part; but certainly his representation concurred altogether with our knowledge of the Chinese character.
On the 15th, the pilgrims again made the circuit of the Lamasery, but by no means in such numbers as on the preceding days. Curiosity impelled the great majority rather towards the points where preparations were making for the Feast of Flowers. When night fell, Sandara came and invited us to go and see the marvellous butter works of which we had heard so much. We accordingly proceeded with him, accompanied by the Stutterer, the Kitat-Lama, and the Chabi, leaving old Akayé to take care of the house. The flowers were arranged in the open air, before the various Buddhist
temples of the Lamasery, and displayed by illuminations of the most dazzling brilliancy. Innumerable vases of brass and copper, in the form of chalices, were placed upon slight frame-work, itself representing various designs; and all these vases were filled with thick butter, supporting a solid wick. The illuminations were arranged with a taste that would have reflected no discredit on a Parisian decorator.
The appearance of the flowers themselves quite amazed us. We could never have conceived that in these deserts, amongst a half savage people, artists of such eminent merit could have been found. From the paintings and sculptures we had seen in various Lamaseries, we had not in the slightest degree been led to anticipate the exquisite finish which we had occasion to admire in the butter works. The flowers were bas-reliefs, of colossal proportions, representing various subjects taken from the history of Buddhism. All the personages were invested with a truth of expression that quite surprised us. The features were full of life and animation, the attitudes natural, and the drapery easy and graceful. You could distinguish at a glance the nature and quality of the materials represented. The furs were especially good. The various skins of the sheep, the tiger, the fox, the wolf, etc., were so admirably rendered, that you felt inclined to go and feel them with the hand, and ascertain whether, after all, they were not real. In each bas-relief you at once recognised Buddha, his face, full of nobleness and majesty, appertained to the Caucasian type; the artists conforming therein to the Buddhist traditions, which relate that Buddha, a native of the Western Heaven, had a complexion fair, and slightly tinged with red, broad, full eyes, a large nose, and long, curling, soft hair. The other personages had all the Mongol type, with the Thibetian, Chinese, Si-Fan, and Tartar shadings, so nicely discriminated that, without any reference whatever to the costume, you recognised at once to what particular tribe each individual belonged. There were a few heads of Hindoos and negroes, excellently represented. The latter excited a good deal of curiosity among the spectators. These large bas-reliefs were surrounded with frames, representing animals and flowers, all in butter, and all admirable, like the works they enclosed, for their delicacy of outline and the beauty of their colouring. On the road which led from one temple to another, were placed, at intervals, small bas-reliefs representing, in miniature, battles, hunting incidents, nomadic episodes, and views of the most celebrated Lamaseries of Thibet and Tartary. Finally, in front of the principal temple, there was a theatre, which, with its personages and its decorations, were all of butter. The dramatis personæ were a foot high, and represented a community of