We had to halt some days now, while the troops and baggage were being transported across the river, and on the 27th I had a three hours’ interview with this new deputation from Lhasa, which consisted of the Dalai Lama’s Chamberlain, a man of some capacity, with an air of great consequence, who was evidently regarded with much respect; the Ta Lama, the somewhat effete, but genial, old gentleman who had met me at Gyantse; and a Secretary of the Council, a brisk, cheery gentleman, with an ever-ready smile, and very different from the other Secretary who had met us at Khamba Jong, Gyantse, and Nagartse.
They brought with them a letter from the Dalai Lama, and repeated the old request that we should not go to Lhasa. The only new argument they used was that our going to Lhasa would so spoil their religion that the Dalai Lama might die. I told them that I should much regret that our arrival in Lhasa should have any such melancholy result, but I had studied their religion, and could hardly believe it was so weak that it would not stand our presence in Lhasa for a few weeks. The delegates repeatedly urged me to realize the personal inconvenience our presence in Lhasa would be to the Dalai Lama. The Ta Lama explained that the Chamberlain was in constant personal attendance on the Dalai Lama, and enjoyed his fullest confidence, and for that reason had been specially deputed by the Dalai Lama. I was given to understand that this was a very unusual favour, and I was earnestly begged to accede to the Dalai Lama’s personal wishes; the delegates further told me that if I did not accede to them they would themselves be severely punished by the Dalai Lama.
In reply I expressed my inability to accede to the Dalai Lama’s wishes, but trusted they would ask His Holiness to excuse my insistence. They had spoken of the inconvenience our presence in Lhasa would cause the Dalai Lama, but His Holiness would, I felt sure, realize the inconvenience we had already suffered through the delay in the arrival of negotiators. I could assure them that the Viceroy had every desire to consult the feelings of the Dalai Lama, and it was because we knew that His Holiness was averse to the presence of strangers in Lhasa that His Excellency had not sent me there in the first instance, though the capital of a country was the natural and usual place in which to conduct negotiations. It was only after we had found it impossible to effect a settlement anywhere else that I had been ordered to proceed to Lhasa.
I added that after an Envoy had been kept waiting for a year, and had been attacked and shot at for two months, most rulers would have refused to allow their representative to negotiate till the capital had been captured. We were not, however, advancing with that object. They could see that here we were paying for all supplies we took, and the monastery immediately outside the camp was left unmolested. I was prepared to show like consideration on our arrival at Lhasa if we were unopposed, and I trusted His Holiness would appreciate this concession.
The delegates assured me again that the Dalai Lama was really anxious to make a settlement, that they had come in a peaceful manner, and had let the army they had with them a few days ago disperse to their homes. I had little difficulty in believing these assertions, for we had received accounts that the Tibetan army had scattered in a panic, the Kham levies looting in all directions. A peaceful settlement was undoubtedly, therefore, the sincere desire of the Dalai Lama, though turbulent monks might yet create a disturbance in Lhasa. As to the delegates being punished if we advanced to Lhasa, I said that I myself would be punished if we did not.
A discussion afterwards followed on the question of other foreigners coming to Tibet if we were allowed there. I told them it was the usual custom for neighbouring countries to have representatives at each other’s capital, and we would probably have avoided all the misunderstandings which led to the present troubles if we had had a representative at Lhasa and they had had one in Calcutta. We knew, however, their aversion to keeping a British agent at Lhasa; we were not, therefore, pressing the point, and were only insisting upon having trade agents at Gyantse and other marts. There would, however, in any case, have been no reason for other foreigners establishing an agent at Lhasa. Russia had declared that she had no intention of sending an agent to Tibet. The delegates replied that our establishing an agent even at Gyantse would be against their custom, and spoil their religion. I said that I understood, then, that they were not prepared even now to agree to our terms, and they informed me that they were only authorized to discuss them, and they would have to be considered in the National Assembly. “You expect me, then,” I said, “to remain out here in a half-desert place discussing terms. I have already remained for months together in desert places in Tibet, and can now negotiate in no other place than Lhasa.” I begged the Chamberlain as a practical man to accept this as inevitable, and to turn his mind now to insuring that there should be no more useless bloodshed on the way, and that we should be enabled by the speedy conclusion of the settlement to leave Lhasa at an early date.
Before closing the interview, I had some conversation with the delegates on the general question of intercourse between Tibet and India. I said that we should be very glad if they would more frequently accept the hospitality we were always ready to offer them in India. They would find that in India they could travel wherever they liked, and would everywhere be protected and welcomed. They would see, too, that though we were Christians we not only tolerated but protected Buddhists, Hindus, and Mohammedans. We even spent large sums of money in preserving ancient buildings of other religions. In this camp was an officer, Colonel Waddell, who had spent his life in studying the Buddhist religion, and while reading the ancient books had discovered instructions indicating exactly where the birthplace of Buddha could be found. The British Government had spent a considerable amount of money in clearing away forests, and the town in which Buddha was born was actually discovered. We did not believe that every religion except our own was wrong. On the contrary, we believed that the same God whom we all worshipped could be approached by many different roads, and we were ready to respect those who were travelling to the same destination, though by a different road to that which we ourselves were following.
The delegates expressed their satisfaction that we should have studied their religion, but the conversation soon returned to the more pressing question of our advance to Lhasa. The Chamberlain was the most sensible, practical man we had so far met, and I was specially polite to him, as in the event of the flight or murder of the Dalai Lama he might be a possible Regent. But even he had evidently very little power, and while he was nervous throughout the interview, was clearly more nervous of his own people than of us.
After the interview had lasted three and a half hours, I asked them to report my words to the Dalai Lama, and I told them that I should be very glad to see them again whenever they liked, either to discuss further official business, or, putting official matters aside, to pay me a friendly private visit. They took one of my Tibetan Munshis with them, and gave him a special present of silk for Captain O’Connor, and also told the Munshi that the man who had brought all this trouble on Tibet was the Tung-yig-Chembo (the Chief Secretary), who was at Khamba Jong, Gyantse, and Nagartse, but who was not present at this interview. It was satisfactory to find that two such influential men as the Chamberlain and the Ta Lama had discovered this, and I thought that if the man was now cast aside, our chance of getting on terms of friendship with high Tibetan officials would be vastly increased.
I now accepted the silk which the Dalai Lama had sent me through the Tongsa Penlop, but which I had at the time refused to accept unless accompanied by a letter or handed to me by one of the Dalai Lama’s own officials. The present was mentioned in the Dalai Lama’s letter to me, and the Chamberlain also told me the Dalai Lama begged me to accept it. I could therefore accept it without loss of dignity. I sent him in return a large and very handsome silver-gilt bowl.