Some men carried boards about two feet square, on which were written the Amban’s titles and his commission to supreme authority over the whole of Tibet.[24] Some of these inscriptions were in Chinese, and were carried by Chinamen; others, in the Tibetan language, were carried by Tibetans. The Shape also rode, their advance heralded by two men who warned passers-by to keep out of the way. Each was escorted by three mounted men, one on either side of him, and one marching in front, keeping off the crowd with whips, which they freely used, while two grooms ran behind holding his horse’s tail. There were about three hundred dignitaries and gentlemen of the provinces of U and Tsang, besides the followers and retainers of the Ambans. The Ambans’ sedan chairs were carried by eight Chinese soldiers to each, and some fifty Tibetan soldiers helped to drag them with long cords attached to the bars of the chairs.[25] After paying homage at the sacred chapels and tombs of the departed saints, the procession came out of the monastery by the eastern gate, and, headed by the Shape Bora, marched across the market-place towards Kun-khyab ling. First came the officers of state, then followed the paymaster’s (Pogpon[26]) party, then the Chinese officials, followed by the chief Amban in his state chair. The flags, carried in tasteful array, were all of China silk, those at the point of the lances of the guard being of brocade, and inscribed in Chinese and Tibetan. Throughout the march the Tibetans occupied a subordinate position, and the Chinese displayed their superiority in every possible way. Though the crowd had reason to fear a whipping from the Chinese, who ran on all sides, they did not suffer from the Amban’s guard. The junior Amban, as he followed on horseback, seemed pleased to [[62]]see the heavily chained prisoners, the recently punished headmen groaning under the weight of their cangues. His sedan chair was carried by the same number of soldiers as that of the senior Amban, and his retinue and followers resembled his. Then came the other Shape with their respective retinues. The guards were all armed with Chinese matchlocks and long spears. Following them came the captains and lieutenants of the army, with a hundred men; and behind these marched the yellow and black turbaned officers of Labrang and the Djong. The Ambans were received by his Holiness, the Panchen, with due honours, and they paid him the reverence due to his exalted position and holy character.
In the evening I saw the Tung-chen, who gave me a very valuable manuscript entitled Dsamling gyeshe, or “General account of the world.”[27] I carried it off with me to my house to read.
December 18.—The Tung-chen sent one of his storekeepers, Tsering-tashi by name, to Tondub Khangsar to get a passport (lam-yig) to enable me to send Phurchung to Khamba djong and Lachan, to bring here our heavy luggage. The tailor came at 7 o’clock this morning to begin work on my winter clothes. We kept ready for him a kettle of tea on an earthen stove. A cup, a few pieces of boiled mutton, and a wooden bowl filled with tsamba remained all the time before him, and he drank some tea every hour or so, making also three meals a day. His breakfast consisted of mutton, tsamba, and tea; at noon we gave him a dish of rice and mutton curry, tsamba, and tea; and at 6 o’clock he ate a few balls of tsamba, put on his yellow turban (bakto), and, making a low bow, walked off towards his home at Tashi-gyantsa. I was much pleased with his steady work, which had earned for him the proud title of Uje chenpo, or “head craftsman,”[28] and secured for him a tanka a day wages, exclusive of food.
December 19.—Tsering-tashi was despatched again after the passport. The delay in securing it was occasioned by the Tung-chen not having tipped the clerks and officials who had charge of the [[63]]matter. The senior Amban started to-day for Lhasa viâ Gyantse and Nangartse djong. All the ponies of Shigatse had been requisitioned to supply his numerous retinue with riding and pack animals, so the junior Amban and the Shape could not get off for want of ula, and the local authorities of Gyantse were ordered to supply what they could to them as soon as the senior Amban reached their place. In the meanwhile the Chinese were strolling about the Shigatse market, carrying off the best of everything, paying nothing, or only a nominal price for the things they took. People coming into town saw their ponies seized by the ta-u officers for the Amban’s service, and started off with loads to Gyantse. My men could buy nothing, for most of the people had packed up their wares and fled; but they managed to purchase some mutton and rice inside the monastery, and we found out that good things could be had there at comparatively moderate prices.
December 20.—I passed most of my day reading a collection of hymns, the composition of the second Dalai lama,[29] which I had bought from a Lhasan bookseller. To-day there arrived five men from Gyantse, whose advent was at once detected by the Rogyabas, for these pests are always on the look-out for new-comers, whom they at once surround with clamorous solicitations for alms. Few can escape from their hands without paying them something. As soon as the Rogyabas saw these Gyantse men, they informed all the fraternity of the new prey, on which vulture-like they pounced. Well do they deserve their name, which means “corpse-vultures,” though, to speak the truth, they prey on the living.[30] These Gyantse men brought news about the orders issued by the Lhasa Government stopping the egress and ingress of all traders at the frontier passes. The two Djongpon of Phagri were busy executing these orders; no one, it was said, had eluded their vigilance and reached Darjiling. Even some Bhutanese traders on their way to Lhasa were stopped at Phagri; but another party of these people had started [[64]]out, in defiance of the Djongpon, for Lhasa. The Bhutan Government resented such unusual interference on the part of the Tibetans in a trade which had been carried on from ancient times.
December 21.—To-day is the new moon (nam-gang, or “full night”), one of the holiest days of the month. The conch-shells called loudly the lamas to prayers. From break of day to an hour after sunset large numbers of men and women circumambulated the monastery, some carrying strings of beads, others prayer-wheels. Early in the morning the Nepalese, beating cymbals and chanting Sanskrit mantras, walked around the great monastery.
Towards 10 o’clock my attention was attracted by an unusual scene to the east of the monastery, where the entire space between the great mendong of the market-place and the eastern gateway of Tashilhunpo was filled with beggars, both men and women. Among them were people from Amdo and Khams, whose eyes had been put out for crimes such as murdering lamas; some were cripples and walked with crutches, some in heavy chains and drawn on wheelbarrows, some maimed, others deaf and dumb, others, again, still bearing traces of the torture to which they had been subjected—a vast concourse of misery and pain. In their midst stood the well-known Lhagpa-tsering distributing alms, an anna to each one. For ten years past he had done thus on the first of every moon. The circumstances which led this worthy man to undertake giving alms to the indigent is very remarkable and instructive.
Lhagpa-tsering had been a silversmith, and had by patient work amassed such wealth that he established himself as a jeweller and banker. His business prospered; in his shop were all kinds of goods—fine china, besides pearls, coral, turquoises, and jade; and here came all the great men of the country. He became noted also for his munificent gifts to the lamasery of Tashilhunpo. Some ten years ago there lived at Shang a saintly lama called Chyabtam lama; the purity of his life and his vast learning had made him an object of worship for all classes of people in Tsang. The jeweller Lhagpa, believing that if he made offering to so holy a personage his profits in trade would increase a hundred-fold, went to Shang and offered the lama Rs. 1250, besides numerous objects of value. The saint refused them all, telling him that they represented dishonest earnings, and were the property of a dishonest man. “In a previous existence you were a great sinner, and in your next you will be a crocodile.” [[65]]
On the following morning Lhagpa, filled with horror at his impending fate, came and begged the sage to tell him how he might avert the horrible punishment—what acts of charity, what good deeds would save him; but the lama made no reply. Again the next day he came, and the saint looked in his magic mirror, and said, “If henceforth you give alms to the poor and helpless, of whatever station, creed, or country they may be, on every new moon throughout the year till your death, you will surely get immense wealth, as well as escape from rebirth as a crocodile. There are no other means to save you;” and he sent Lhagpa away without accepting his gifts. Since then he has been in the habit of distributing alms on the first day of the moon. His example has produced a wholesome influence on the merchants of Khams, who now show some hesitation in cheating. A trader, when he cheats others, thinks, as a general rule, if he is a Buddhist, that the amount thus gained was due to him in a previous existence. This is a dangerous principle.
Close to the cemetery of Shigatse, called Kega tsal, is the Chinese graveyard, where there are about three hundred tombs of varying size and very rude construction. At a short distance from this is the parade-ground, about half a mile square, called Jah-hu-tang, and touching it a walled enclosure, used for target practice with bow and gun, in the centre of which is a large house used by the Ambans. On the sides are high towers for the drum-beaters and trumpet-blowers. The headmen of the whole country had assembled here to-day to muster the porters and pack-ponies required by the junior Amban and the Tibetan officials returning to Lhasa. Three hundred ponies were ready, and it was decided that one man should accompany each horse. Orders had been given by the Amban to requisition all the ponies in the province, no matter whether they belonged to subjects, traders, or pilgrims.