“My arrival at the gates of the lamasery caused a great hubbub. Hundreds of lamas swarmed on the flat roof of the buildings which composed the square block enclosed by a high wall, while numbers hurried to and fro through the courts and passages in a state of great excitement. Dismounting outside the gate, I left my pony in charge of the gatekeeper, and entered. Scarcely, however, had I passed the inner gate, when a lama, addressing me in Chinese, inquired my business. I informed
him that I was desirous of seeing the building, and, giving him my card, desired him to present it to the chief lama, with a request for permission to view the lamasery. He requested me to remain at the gate until his return, and took my message to the chief lama.... From where I stood I could see but little of the interior building. As much, however, as was visible proved that the fame of the Bathang Lamasery was justly deserved. In the centre of the block of buildings, the roof of the sacred temple was plainly visible, its massive gold covering flashing and gleaming in the sunlight with dazzling brilliancy. On the roofs, and, indeed, everywhere, the place was literally alive with roosters, which kept up an incessant crowing, blending in a chorus with the chants of the lamas. These birds are sacred to Buddha, and number, I was told, more than a thousand. None are ever killed, and their ranks are constantly swelled by the donations of the country people, who bring the chickens to the lamasery as religious offerings. The birds are all capons, and, like the lamas, live a life of celibacy. Not a single hen is allowed to come within the building. Everything in the sacred edifice is dedicated to the worship of Buddha, and supposed to be free from the contamination of the outer world.
“I noticed several nuns about, with shaven heads, but dressed in the ordinary garb of Thibetan women, with this difference, that the color and material of their dress were the same as those of the priestly robes of green stuff. These nuns are the abject slaves of the lamas, performing all the drudgery of the house in common with youthful novices or deacons. They, however, in the outer world enjoy, like the lamas, a superior social position, and command
considerable respect from both sexes of the lay people. They do not shut themselves up entirely in lamaseries, like cloistered nuns of the Romish religion, but often live with their families, and work at the household duties and in the fields. These nuns, like the priests, profess the strictest chastity, dedicating themselves entirely to the worship and service of Buddha. But, from my own observations, and from the openly expressed opinion of the lay inhabitants of Thibet, which I had frequent opportunities of hearing, virtue is a thing unknown among the priesthood, and the lamaseries are little better than dens of debauchery. Just as I had begun to be impatient at his long absence, the lama returned with a message that my presence was not desired within the building, as it would unsettle the priests at their devotions, but if I wished to leave an offering in the shape of money or anything else, it would be accepted. As this concession on the part of the chief lama was meant as an expression of good-will, I gave the messenger a tael of silver, and, with a feeling of disappointment, returned home. I afterward found that I had reason to congratulate myself on my exclusion from the lamasery, as many of its inmates were suffering from small-pox. This fearful disease commits great ravages among the Thibetan population; of whom almost every fourth person is disfigured by its effects.... When cases occur in a town, the lamas compel the families attacked to remove to the mountains, and seal up their houses. Should the sick persons be unable to bear removal, they are shut up in the house, all communication with them being prohibited, and are left to die or recover, as the case may be.”
It was in a great measure to the
lamas that Mr. Cooper owed the non-success of his journey, although, the object of it becoming known, the Chinese government also was interested in preventing its accomplishment, since with a new trade route opened to foreign enterprise, the existing monopolies would of course be destroyed. “Nothing,” says Mr. Cooper, “is more contrary to the policy of the Chinese government and lamas than the introduction of Assam tea. The Chinese on their part dread the loss of their valuable wholesale monopoly, to maintain which they give the lamas the monopoly of the retail supply; who, by this means, hold in absolute subjection the people, to whom tea is a prime necessary of life. The lamas, on their part, fear that, with the introduction of British trade, the teachers of the new religion would come, and free trade and free thought combined would overthrow their spiritual sway.... I myself was destined both now and in a subsequent journey to experience their determination to prevent the intrusion of the detested Palin.”
Nothing would be easier than to extend our quotations from this interesting traveller, every page of whose book is entertaining. On leaving Bathang, the impossibility of inducing a male Thibetan to act as a servant had made it necessary for his interpreter to hire an elderly female as a cook; but Mr. Cooper, while supposing that he was merely assisting at an impromptu picnic, found himself unexpectedly married, with all due Thibetan form, to a pretty little maid, who, her parents were persuaded, would be an excellent substitute for a servant. He soon managed to return her to her relatives, but not until after an amusing compliance with the religious customs of his new bride, which we
must let him relate. They were passing one of those cairns of prayer-stones which the piety of the travelling Thibetans erect along the road. No Buddhist passes them without adding a stone and muttering a prayer:
“Lo-tzung, having contributed her quota of stones and prayers, gave me to understand that, in order to secure our future happiness, she must have a couple of Khatah cloths to attach to the flagstaffs, and there was nothing for it but to unpack one of the baggage-animals and get out the ‘scarves of felicity’(?) Having given them to the young lady, I was inwardly congratulating myself that now, at least, we should be able to continue our march, for the afternoon was wearing, and our station for the night still distant. But my matrimonial embarrassments had not yet ended. It was necessary for me to tie one of the ‘scarves of felicity’ to the flagstaff, and kneel in prayer with my bride. This I peremptorily refused to do; but poor Lo-tzung shed such a torrent of tears, and informed me with such heart-broken accents that, if I did not do this, we should not be happy, and that she especially would be miserable, that there was nothing for it but to comply. And there, on the summit of a Thibetan mountain, kneeling before a heap of stones, my hand wet with the tears of a daughter of the country, I muttered curses on the fate that had placed me in such a position.”
It had been Mr. Cooper’s intention to take this little girl along with him to Calcutta, since to cast her off would have given dire offence to the Thibetans, and there hand her over to the care of the Catholic Sisters. The hatred of the lamas, however, pursued him on his journey, and, by prohibiting the people from sheltering him or selling him food, they so