The Raid Of The Goorkhas
During the past two and a half centuries the great empire of China has
been under foreign rule, its emperors, its state officials, its generals
and trusted battalions, being of Tartar blood, and the whole nation
being forced to wear, in the shaved head and pigtail of every man from
the highest to the lowest, a badge of servitude. The firm position
gained by the Manchu dynasty was largely due to the ability of two
emper
rs, Kanghi and Keen Lung, who stamped out the spirit of rebellion
in China, added Thibet to the empire, and conquered Mongolia, subduing
those restless tribes which for so many centuries had been a sword in
the side of the great empire of the East. Their able administration was
aided by their long reigns, Kanghi being on the throne for sixty-one
years, while Keen Lung abdicated after a reign of sixty years, that he
might not take from his esteemed grandfather the honor of the longest
reign. Keen Lung died three years afterwards, in 1799, thus bringing up
the history of China almost to the opening year of the nineteenth
century. His eventful life was largely devoted to the consolidation of
the Tartar authority, and was marked by brilliant military exploits and
zeal in promoting the interests of China in all directions. It is our
purpose here to tell the story of one of the famous military exploits of
his reign.
The conquest of Thibet had brought the Chinese into contact with the
bold and restless hill-tribes which occupy the region between China and
India. South of the Himalaya range there existed several small mountain
states, independent alike of Mogul and of British rule, and defiant in
their mountain fastnesses of all the great surrounding powers. Of these
small states the most important was Nepal, originally a single kingdom,
but afterwards divided into three, which were in frequent hostility with
one another. West of Nepal was a small clan, the Goorkhas, whose people
were noted for their warlike daring. It is with these that we are here
concerned.
In 1760 the king of Bhatgaon, one of the divisions of Nepal, being
threatened by his rival kings, begged aid from the Goorkha chief. It was
readily given, and with such effect as to win the allies a signal
triumph. The ease of his victory roused the ambition of Narayan, the
leader of the Goorkhas, and by 1769 the three kings of Nepal were either
slain or fugitives in India and their country had fallen under the
dominion of its recently insignificant and little-considered neighbor.
The Goorkhas differed essentially from the Nepalese in character. They
despised commerce and disliked strangers. War was their trade, and their
aggressions soon disturbed conditions along the whole Himalaya range.
The flourishing trade which had once existed between India and Thibet by
way of Nepal was brought to an end, while the raids of the dominant
clan on neighboring powers excited general apprehension. Twenty years
after their conquest of Nepal the incursions of the Goorkhas into Thibet
became so serious as to demand the attention of the Chinese emperor,
though no decided action was taken for their suppression. But in 1790 an
event occurred that put a sudden end to this supine indifference.
The temples and lamasaries of Thibet were widely believed to contain a
great store of wealth, the reports of which proved highly alluring to
the needy and daring warriors of the Goorkha clan. The Chinese had shown
no disposition to defend Thibet, and this rich spoil seemed to lie at
the mercy of any adventurous band strong enough to overcome local
opposition. In consequence, the Goorkhas prepared for an invasion in
force of the northern state, and, with an army of about eighteen
thousand men, crossed the Himalayas by the lofty passes of Kirong and
Kuti and rapidly advanced into the country beyond.
The suddenness of this movement found the Thibetans quite unprepared.
Everything gave way before the bold invaders, and in a short time
Degarchi, the second town of the state, fell into their hands. This was
the residence of the Teshu Lama, ranking next to the Dalai in authority,
and possessed the vast lamasary of Teshu Lumbo, rich in accumulated
wealth, which fell into the hands of the invaders. A farther advance
would undoubtedly have given them the chief city of Lhassa, since the
unwarlike population fled in terror before their advance, but their
success at Degarchi had been so great as to check their march, many
weeks being spent in counting their spoil and subduing the surrounding
country.
Meanwhile urgent petitions were sent to Peking, and the old emperor,
aroused to the necessity for prompt and decisive action, gave orders
that all available troops should at once be despatched to Lhassa and
vigorous preparations made for war. Within a few months a Chinese army
of seventy thousand men, armed with several pieces of light artillery,
had reached Thibet, where the Goorkhas, alarmed by the numbers of their
opponents, made hasty preparations for a retreat. But their spoil was so
abundant and bulky as to delay their march, and the Chinese, who were
well commanded, succeeded in coming up with them before they had crossed
the mountain passes. The movements of the Chinese commander were so
skilfully made that the retreat of the Goorkhas without a battle for the
safety of their treasures became impossible.
Sund Fo, the Chinese general, according to the usual practice of his
people, began by the offer of terms to the enemy, these being the
surrender of all their spoil and of a renegade lama whose tale of the
wealth of Thibet had led to the invasion. Probably also pledges for
better conduct in future were demanded, but the proud chief of the
Goorkhas haughtily refused to accept any of these conditions and defied
his foes to do their worst. Of the battle that followed nothing is known
except its result, which was the defeat and hasty retreat of the
invaders, much of whose baggage was left behind.
The Chinese do not seem to have suffered greatly, to judge from the
promptness of their pursuit, which was made with such rapidity that the
Goorkhas were overtaken and again defeated before they had reached the
Kirong pass, they being now obliged to abandon most of their baggage and
spoil. The pursuit continued with an energy remarkable for a Chinese
army, the Goorkhas, bold as they were by nature, growing demoralized
under this unlooked-for persistence. Every encounter resulted in a
defeat, the forts which commanded the mountain passes and defiles were
taken in succession by Sund Fo's army, and he still pressed relentlessly
on. At a strong point called Rassoa the Goorkhas defended for three days
a passage over a chasm, but they had grown faint-hearted through their
successive defeats, and this post too fell into the hands of their
enemy.
The triumphs of the Chinese had not been won without severe loss, both
in their frequent assaults upon mountain strongholds and a desperate
foe, and from the passage of the snow-clad mountains, but they finally
succeeded in reaching the southern slopes of the Himalayas with an
effective force of forty thousand men. Khatmandu, the Goorkha capital,
lay not far away, and with a last effort of courage and despair the
retreating army made a stand for the defence of the seat of their
government.
Their position was a strong one, their courage that of desperation, and
their valor and resolution so great that for a time they checked the
much stronger battalions of their foes. The Chinese troops,
disheartened by the courage with which the few but brave mountaineers
held their works, were filled with dismay, and might have been repulsed
but for the ruthless energy of their leader, who was determined at any
cost to win. Turning the fire of his artillery upon his own troops, he
drove them relentlessly upon the foe, forcing them to a charge that
swept them like a torrent over the Goorkha works. The fire of the guns
was kept up upon the mingled mass of combatants until the Goorkhas were
driven over a precipice into the stream of the Tadi that ran below. By
this decisive act of the Chinese commander many of his own men were
slain, but the enemy was practically annihilated and the war brought to
an end.
The Goorkhas now humbly solicited peace, which Sund Fo was quite ready
to grant, for his own losses had been heavy and it was important to
recross the mountains before winter set in. He therefore granted them
peace on humiliating terms, though these were as favorable as they could
expect under the circumstances. Any further attempt at resistance
against the overwhelming army of their foes might have ended in the
complete destruction of their state. They took an oath to keep the peace
with Thibet, to acknowledge themselves vassals of China, to send an
embassy with tribute to Peking every five years, and to restore all the
plunder taken from Teshu Lumbo.
Of the later history of the Goorkhas some words may be said. Their raids
into India led to a British invasion of their country in 1814, and in
1816 they were forced to make peace. The celebrated Jung Bahadur became
their ruler in 1846 through the summary process of killing all his
enemies, and in 1857, during the Indian mutiny, he came with a strong
force to the aid of the British, whose friend he had always remained. In
more recent wars the Goorkhas have proved themselves among the bravest
soldiers in the Indian army, and in the late war with the hill-tribes
showed an intrepidity which no part of the army surpassed. The
independence of their state is still maintained.