Himalayan Journals, vol 2 by J. D. Hooker (great reads TXT) 📖

But the first

communication to the Rajah, though it pointed out the heinous nature of his offence, was, through a natural fear of exasperating our

captors, couched in very moderate language. The particulars of our

seizure, and the reasons for it, and for our further detention, were unknown at Dorjiling, or a very different line of policy would have been pursued.] from Dorjiling changed their plans, the Dewan

conveniently fell sick on the spot, and we were thrown back again.

In the meantime, however, we were allowed to write to our friends,

and to receive money and food, of which we stood in great need.

I transmitted a private account of the whole affair to the

Governor-General, who was unfortunately at Bombay, but to whose

prompt and vigorous measures we were finally indebted for our

release. His lordship expedited a despatch to the Rajah, such as the latter was accustomed to receive from Nepal, Bhotan, or Lhassa, and such as alone commands attention from these half-civilized

Indo-Chinese, who measure power by the firmness of the tone adopted towards them; and who, whether in Sikkim, Birmah, Siam, Bhotan, or

China, have too long been accustomed to see every article of our

treaties contravened, with no worse consequences than a protest or a threat, which is never carried into execution till some fatal step

calls forth the dormant power of the British Government.* [We forget that all our concessions to these people are interpreted into

weakness; that they who cannot live on an amicable equality with one another, cannot be expected to do so with us; that all our talk of

power and resources are mere boasts to habitual bullies, so long as we do not exert ourselves in the correction of premeditated insults.

No Government can be more tolerant, more sincerely desirous of peace, and more anxious to confine its sway within its own limits than that of India, but it can only continue at peace by demanding respect, and the punctilious enforcement of even the most trifling terms in the

treaties it makes with Indo-Chinese.]

The end of the month arrived without bringing any prospect of our

release, whilst we were harassed by false reports of all kinds.

The Dewan went on the 25th to a hot bath, a few hundred feet down the hill; he was led past our hut, his burly frame tottering as if in

great weakness, but a more transparent fraud could not have been

practised: he was, in fact, lying on his oars, pending further

negotiations. The Amlah proposed that Campbell should sign a bond,

granting immunity for all past offences on their part, whilst they

were to withdraw the letter of grievances against him. The Lamas cast horoscopes for the future, little presents continually arrived for us, and the Ranee sent me some tobacco, and to Campbell brown sugar and Murwa beer. The blacksmiths, who had been ostentatiously making long knives at the forge hard by, were dismissed; troops were said to be arriving at Dorjiling, and a letter sternly demanding our release bad been received.

The Lamas of Pemiongchi, Changachelling, Tassiding, etc., and the

Dewan's enemies, and Tchebu Lama's friends, began to flock from all quarters to Tumloong, demanding audience of the Rajah, and our

instant liberation. The Dewan's game was evidently up; but the

timidity of his opponents, his own craft, and the habitual

dilatoriness of all, contributed to cause endless delays. The young Gangtok Kajee tried to curry favour with us, sending word that he was urging our release, and adding that he had some capital ponies for us to see on our way to Dorjiling! Many similar trifles showed that

these people had not a conception of the nature of their position, or of that of an officer of the British Government.

The Tchebu Lama visited us only once, and then under surveillance; he renewed his professions of good faith, and we had every reason to

know that he had suffered severely for his adherence to us, and

consistent repudiation of the Amlah's conduct; he was in great favour with his brother Lamas, but was not allowed to see the Rajah, who was said to trust to him alone of all his counsellors. He told us that

peremptory orders had arrived from Calcutta for our release, but that the Amlah had replied that they would not acknowledge the despatch, from its not bearing the Governor-General's great seal!

The country-people refusing to be saddled with the keep of our

coolies, they were sent to Dorjiling in small parties, charged to say that we were free, and following them.

The weather continued rainy and bad, with occasionally a few hours of sunshine, which, however, always rendered the ditch before our door offensive: we were still prevented leaving the hot, but as a great

annual festival was going on, we were less disagreeably watched.

Campbell was very unwell, and we had no medicine; and as the Dewan, accustomed to such duplicity himself, naturally took this for a

ruse, and refused to allow us to send to Dorjiling for any, we were more than ever convinced that his own sickness was simulated.

On the 2nd and 3rd December we had further conferences with the

Dewan, who said that we were to be taken to Dorjiling in six days,

with two Vakeels from the Rajah. The Pemiongchi Lama, as the oldest and most venerated in Sikkim, attended, and addressed Campbell in a speech of great feeling and truth. Having heard, he said, of these

unfortunate circumstances a few days ago, he had come on feeble

limbs, and though upwards of seventy winters old, as the

representative of his holy brotherhood, to tender advice to his

Rajah, which he hoped would be followed: Since Sikkim had been

connected with the British rule, it had experienced continued peace and protection; whereas before they were in constant dread of their lives and properties, which, as well as their most sacred temples,

were violated by the Nepalese and Bhotanese. He then dwelt upon

Campbell's invariable kindness and good feeling, and his exertions

for the benefit of their country, and for the cementing of

friendship, and hoped he would not let these untoward events induce an opposite course in future but that he would continue to exert his influence with the Governor-General in their favour.

The Dewan listened attentively; he was anxious and perplexed, and

evidently losing his presence of mind: he talked to us of Lhassa and its gaieties, dromedaries, Lamas, and everything Tibetan; offered to sell us ponies cheap, and altogether behaved in a most, undignified manner; ever and anon calling attention to his pretended sick leg,

which he nursed on his knee. He gave us the acceptable news that the government at Calcutta had sent up an officer to carry on Campbell's duties, which had alarmed him exceedingly. The Rajah, we were told, was very angry at our seizure and detention; he had no fault to find with the Governor-General's agent, and hoped he would be continued as such. In fact, all the blame was thrown on the brothers of the Dewan, and of the Gangtok Kajee, and more irresponsible stupid boors could not have been found on whom to lay it, or who would have felt less

inclined to commit such folly if it had not been put on them by the Dewan. On leaving, white silk scarfs were thrown over our shoulders, and we went away, still doubtful, after so many disappointments,

whether we should really be set at liberty at the stated period.

Although there was so much talk about our leaving, our confinement

continued as rigorous as ever. The Dewan curried favour in every

other way, sending us Tibetan wares for purchase, with absurd prices attached, he being an arrant pedlar. All the principal families

waited on us, desiring peace and friendship. The coolies who had not been dismissed were allowed to run away, except my Bhotan Sirdar,

Nimbo, against whom the Dewan was inveterate;* [The Sikkim people are always at issue with the Bhotanese. Nimbo was a runaway slave of the latter country, who had been received into Sikkim, and retained there until he took up his quarters at Dorjiling.] he, however, managed

soon afterwards to break a great chain with which his legs were

shackled, and marching at night, eluded a hot pursuit, and proceeded to the Teesta, swam the river, and reached Dorjiling in eight days; arriving with a large iron ring on each leg, and a link of several

pounds weight attached to one.

Parting presents arrived from the Rajah on the 7th, consisting of

ponies, cloths, silks, woollens, immense squares of butter, tea, and the usual et ceteras, to the utter impoverishment of his stores:

these he offered to the two Sahibs, "in token of his amity with the British government, his desire for peace, and deprecation of angry

discussions." The Ranee sent silk purses, fans, and such Tibetan

paraphernalia, with an equally amicable message, that "she was most anxious to avert the consequences of whatever complaints had gone

forth against Dr. Campbell, who might depend on her strenuous

exertions to persuade the Rajah to do whatever he wished!"

These friendly messages were probably evoked by the information that an English regiment, with three guns, was on its way to Sikkim, and that 300 of the Bhaugulpore Rangers had already arrived there.

The government of Bengal sending another agent* [Mr. Lushington, the gentleman sent to conduct Sikkim affairs during Dr. Campbell's

detention: to whom I shall ever feel grateful for his activity in our cause, and his unremitting attention to every little arrangement that could alleviate the discomforts and anxieties of our position.] to

Dorjiling, was also a contingency they had not anticipated, having

fully expected to get rid of any such obstacle to direct

communication with the Governor-General.

A present from the whole population followed that of the Ranee,

coupled with earnest entreaties that Campbell would resume his

position at Dorjiling; and on the following day forty coolies

mustered to arrange the baggage. Before we left, the Ranee sent three rupees to buy a yard of chale and some gloves, accompanying them

with a present of white silk, etc., for Mrs. Campbell, to whom the

commission was intrusted: a singular instance of the insouciant

simplicity of these odd people.

The 9th of December was a splendid and hot day, one of the very few we had had during our captivity. We left at noon, descending the hill through an enormous crowd of people, who brought farewell presents, all wishing us well. We were still under escort as prisoners of the Dewan, who was coolly marching a troop of forty unloaded mules and

ponies, and double that number of men's loads of merchandize,

purchased during the summer in Tibet, to trade with at Dorjiling and the Titalya fair! His impudence or stupidity was thus quite

inexplicable; treating us as prisoners, ignoring every demand of the authorities at Dorjiling, of the Supreme Council of Calcutta, and of the Governor-General himself; and at the same time acting as if he

were to enter the British territories on the most friendly and

advantageous footing for himself and his property, and incurring so great an expense in all this as to prove that he was in earnest in

thinking so.

Tchebu Lama accompanied us, but we were not allowed to converse with him. We halted at the bottom of the valley, where the Dewan invited us to partake of tea; from this place he gave us mules* [The Tibet

mules are often as fine as the Spanish: I rode one which had

performed a journey from Choombi to Lhassa in fifteen days, with a

man and load.] or ponies to ride, and we ascended to Yankoong, a

village 3,867 feet above the sea. On the following day we crossed a high ridge from the Ryott valley to that of the Rungmi; where we

camped at