Secret India: 1
In the autumn of 1930 Paul Brunton embarked upon his voyage to
India, intending primarily to see Meher Baba, but also to seek out and
penetrate the ‘secrets’ of the holy men, yogis and fakirs of that country. But
Brunton’s stay in India
included secrets of quite another kind, and it was these he chose not to
disclose to his readers.
Prior to leaving for India,
by 1929 Paul Brunton already knew of the existence of Meher Baba, probably as a
consequence of the activities of Meredith Starr, one of the earliest Western
pupils of Baba. Born as Herbert H Close (1890–1971) at Prestbury House, in Hampton,
Richmond, Surrey,
he was the son of a wealthy industrialist and his wife. Under the pen name
[Roland] Meredith Starr he later became a minor poet with an interest in
occultism, aromatherapy and homeopathy, describing himself as a ‘constructive
psychologist’. He was also a regular contributor to the Occult Review, a
British illustrated monthly magazine published by Rider & Co under
different names between 1905 and 1951 which contained articles, reviews and
correspondence by well-known occultists and spiritual authors of the day. Starr’s
interest in occultism led him to join, on June 6, 1910, the infamous Aleister Crowley’s Order of the
Silver Star, taking the motto Superna Sequor (‘I follow the gods’). He
began experiments with various drugs, including Crowley’s
drug of choice, the hallucinogen, peyote. After a drug-induced ‘astral journey’
Starr was convinced he had attained a high occult grade, but Crowley
was dismissive of the claim. He later married the Honourable Mary Grey,
daughter of the 8th Earl of Stamford, a man otherwise known as the Rev Harry Grey.
Oxford educated, a scholar of the Classics, including Latin, Greek, Theology
and Philosophy, Rev Grey developed a serious drink and gambling problem and
ended up before his preferment to the title (due to the unexpected death of the
living heir) at the Cape in South Africa—an alcoholic drifter and colonial
remittance man working first as a miner and later as a farm labourer. After his
second wife died he married his housekeeper, Martha Solomon, who was a black
woman. With her he had three children, one of which was Mary, the only legitimate
child.
In 1917, at Paddington Registry Office, the British
poet-occultist married Lady Mary. The two set out with a plan to found an
artists’ colony in West Cornwall, and lived in a cottage
at Treveal near St Ives. It was in Cornwall
that Starr and his wife were introduced to D H Lawrence and his partner Frieda,
who were then renting a sizable farmhouse cottage near Gurnard’s Head.
Lawrence’s associates at that time included the composer Cecil Grey and
musician the Nigel Heseltine. While Heseltine regarded Starr as an occult
adept, his Cambridge friend, the poet Robert Nicols, reacted less warmly, and
wrote: “‘a fellow with long hair, bulbous rings etc, & an infernal
gasbag’” and attributed Heseltine’s interest in ‘black magic’ to the deleterious
influence of Starr. As for Lady Mary, she was described as “‘a bedizened wife or
concubine prophetess, all black and bilious complexion &
muddleheadedness.’” Lawrence
thought Starr was rather odd, and did not like him much. But, “Lawrence,
half-wary, half-intrigued, availed himself of Starr’s esoteric book
collection.… In September 1917, Lawrence described Starr and his wife to Lady Cynthia
Asquith: ‘a pair of herb-eating occultists: they fast, or eat nettles: they
descend naked into old mine-shafts, and there meditate for hours and hours,
upon their own transcendent infinitude: they descend on us like a swarm of
locusts, and devour all the food on shelf or board: they even gave a concert,
and made most dreadful fools of themselves, in St Ives: violent correspondence in
the St Ives Times’” (Newman, 2005: 24, 25). Grey and Heseltine later became involved with
Aleister Crowley, and with drugs, and performed magical rituals with the expectation
that the music they composed would achieve everlasting recognition.
In March 1928, Meher Baba sent one of his Indian Parsi
disciples, Rustom Irani, to London
in search of pupils to attend the multi-national, multi-faith school for boys
attached to Baba’s ashram in Meherabad. At the time no British boys could be
found to attend the school, but in the course of his search Rustom Irani met
Meredith Starr, who along with his mistress, Margaret Ross, and her sister,
Esther Ross, became interested in Baba, with Starr selling all his belongings
before going to India, expecting to live in Meher Baba’s ashram permanently.
But he only spent six months at the Meherashram at Toka. According to Bhal
Kalchuri (1988: Vol. 3, 1071), during his stay Meher Baba told him: “‘I will
work through you in the West. You will work for me directly. I have drawn you
here and will make you perfect in this life.’ Thinking himself to be someone
important, Starr was of course pleased to hear this.” As a consequence Starr remained aloof and
meditated during much of the day. He would narrate his experiences during
meditation to Baba, saying he had experienced bliss. But due to his overbearing
behaviour, along with the temptation of adultery, a ruse was devised to send
him back to England.
After Starr returned to England
he established a retreat centre in Devonshire, where a
small number of westerners became devotees of Baba. Starr is credited with
introducing Meher Baba to the West, though he did not remain a follower for
very long, becoming critical of his former guru. He was divorced from his wife
Lady Mary by decree nisi 10 April
1930, on his admission of an adulterous relationship of four years’
duration with Margaret Ross.
Brunton had also been in correspondence with another of
Meher Baba’s followers (and later critic) Khaikhushru J Dastur, a Parsi devotee
who had been employed as a teacher at the Meherashram School (for boys), and
from 1929 to 1931 edited the Meher Message, the first monthly periodical
dedicated to Meher Baba. Brunton had contributed a poem, “Born
Again,” to the Meher Message, which was published in February 1930.
According to Charles Purdom, “The first number of the Meher Message
appeared on the first month of January 1929. It contained forty pages, with
articles by the editor … the motto on the cover being ‘Mastery in Servitude’.
There were extracts from Baba’s writings, extracts from the editor’s diary, and
other contributions. Baba was referred to by the editor as ‘His Holiness’, and
Dastur described himself as ‘The Disciple of his Divine Majesty’, which was
objected to by the mandali; but the editor did not listen to them, and Baba, as
usual was indifferent to such matters.” After the December 1930 number, Dastur
was obliged to drop the phrase ‘His Divine Majesty’ from all future issues of
the Meher Message, and Purdom further comments: “It appears from the pages of
the magazine that the controversy between the editor and other disciples had
been developing, for the expression of excessive devotion was objected to,
everything being acerbated by the activities of the editor in connection with India
politics, for Baba and his disciples had no part in politics” (1964: 77, 93).
Dastur had also written the earliest independent publication
about Meher Baba in the English language, published in March 1928 as a booklet
titled His Holiness Meher Baba and the Meherashram. A second edition was
released in June of that year, and a third edition in August, under the more
ostentatious title His Divine Majesty Meher Baba and the Meherashram
Institute. A year after his booklet had been published, an article by Dastur,
‘His Holiness Sadguru Meher Baba’, appeared in the Occult Review, the
first article about Meher Baba in the Western press. Following the publication
of that article, correspondence from Meredith Starr, headed ‘Shri Sadguru Meher
Baba’ appeared in the October 1929 edition of the Occult Review. As a
fellow contributor to that magazine, Brunton would certainly have been aware of
Dastur’s article and also Starr’s letter.
With a bachelor’s degree in law, Dastur was one of the more
educated of Meher Baba’s followers, and in addition to his literary activities
he had been elected a co-president of the Meher League, officially formed on 21 April, 1930, with the objective of
promoting Meher Baba and universal brotherhood. His fellow co-president was retired Judge of Kurnaul, C V Sampath Aiyengar (Madras Judicial Service), who
was one of the earliest Hindu followers of Baba from Madras.
Aiyengar had bequeathed his property in Saidapet, Madras,
for Meher Baba’s cause and requested that Baba open it as a ‘Meher Asramam’,
which subsequently occurred. His daughter, V T Lakshmi, charitably conducted a
Baby Welfare Centre, and was approved by Baba as editor of the League’s
quarterly publication the Meher Gazette, much to Dastur’s annoyance. It
certainly appears that Brunton had previously been in contact with the Meher
League (probably via Dastur), and perhaps considered a representative. It has
been noted (Rawlinson, 1997: 197, n. 1)
that he had formed the Meher League in Britain
before departing for India,
and indeed the Meher Message (Vol. 2, No. 8, Aug 1930) contains an
article in which Brunton writes: “The West needs Meher Baba. It needs him even
more than does the East…. We who follow Shri Meher Baba believe … our beloved
Master will come not only as a Light to the West, but as the Light of the whole
world.” In December 1930, it was Bro H Raphael Hurst, alias Paul Brunton, who
stayed at the Meher Asramam as an honoured guest for more than a fortnight.
Brunton arrived in India
late November 1930, docking at Bombay,
where he was met by Adi K Irani and Jal Irani, two of Meher Baba’s Parsi mandali,
and following Baba’s instruction he was charitably lodged in a hotel. Yet in Secret
India his account omits the above and instead presents the reader with a
colourful display of storytelling that could have come straight out of
Brunton’s favourite boyhood occult novel, Zanoni, and which sets the
tone for the rest of the book. In the chapter ‘A Magician out of Egypt’,
Brunton conjures a tale about how on arriving at the ‘Hotel Majestic’ he made a
starling discovery, this being a fellow guest of the hotel, “a member of the
magician’s fraternity, a weaver of strange spells, in short, a wonder-worker in
the flesh!” The narrative continues:
“Not that he is one of those juggling fellows, mind you, who
make their own and theatres’ fortunes by bewildering jaded audiences. He is not
some clever individual attempting to emulate the feats of Maskelyne and Devant
in a less prosaic environment than that of Regent
Street. No! This man belongs to the line of
medieval sorcerers. He engages daily in his commerce with mysterious beings,
invisible to normal human eyes, but plain enough to his own! Such, at least, is
the peculiar reputation which he has created. The hotel staff regard him with
fearful looks and speak of him with bated breath. Whenever he passes by, the
other guests instinctively break off conversation and a puzzled, questioning
look comes into their eyes. He makes no overtures to them and usually insists
on dining alone. What makes him even more intriguing in our eyes is that he
bears neither European nor Indian nationality; he is a traveller from the
country of the Nile; in very sooth, a magician out of Egypt!”
(1934: 35).
The mysterious ‘wonder-worker’ from Egypt
then performs his art in response to the westerner’s request. This involved
Brunton writing a question on a piece of paper and the magician, named as
‘Mahmoud Bey’, providing the answer without looking at the written question. Bey
then informs Brunton how as a young man a “Jew took me with him to a society in
Cairo, which conducted practical investigations into magic, spiritualism,
theosophy and occult …” and he had “studied the musty old books which the Jew
lent me, and practised the magical rituals and other exercises which he taught
me.… At length, I became acknowledged as an expert in these arts.” The feats
that clearly impressed Brunton related to the magician’s command over the jinns
(fabled magical spirits, elementals), of which he had “as many as thirty” at
his command. Afterwards, throughout the night Brunton says his mind sought to
find a logical explanation for what had occurred, and confides to the reader:
“I know my own experience and what I have witnessed with my own eyes. I must
accept the genuineness of the performance, even if I reserve its explanation.
Yes, Mahmoud Bey is a magician, a twentieth-century wizard. My discovery of him
soon after landing in Indian earth seems to herald, apt and prophetic, of even
stranger discoveries yet. Metaphorically, I have cut the first notch in my
stick of Indian experience. Actually, I have put down the first note on the
virgin white sheets of my note-book” (1934: 41, 43, 45).
Meher Baba is known to have frequently expressed a low
rating of the mentality of those who sought occult powers (siddhis) and
wonders. Yet Brunton clearly demonstrates a fascination for such experiences, and
was doubtless anticipating that Baba would provide further occult wonders to
jot down in his untrustworthy notebook.
The following day Adi K Irani and Jal Irani escorted Brunton
to the Meherabad ashram. He had arrived whilst Baba was still in seclusion in
the ‘Panchvati Cave’.
Nevertheless, over the next three days he was allowed to interview Baba, who
communicated via an alphabet board, interpreted by a disciple. Brunton was not
allowed to take notes. The interviews, observations, and summarized version of
Baba’s life form the substance of the chapter controversially headed ‘I Meet a
Messiah’ in A Search in Secret India. After staying for three days, Baba
provided Brunton with a travel itinerary of places to visit in India,
and directed him to meet Hazrat Babajan in Poona,
to see the Tiger Valley
Cave in Panchgani, then Kolhapur
High School and the Madras Centre,
among other stipulated places to visit. In Secret India Brunton gives
the impression that he departed alone and was merely intent upon seeking out
yogis and fakirs. In actual fact he travelled with two men, one of whom was the
Meher Baba’s brother Jal. The other was Frederick Fletcher, an alleged ex-major
of the British Army who was now a Buddhist monk, and known as Bhikkhu Prajnananda.
Prior to meeting Frederick Fletcher in 1930, Brunton had
previously been acquainted with him in London.
He had been a fellow Theosophist, and according Brunton’s son, Kenneth Hurst
(1989: 45): “At the time I was born in 1923 Michael Juste and my father
belonged to a small group of Bohemians who met regularly and were interested in
spiritual matters. Among them was a colourful character known as ‘Bud’
[Frederick Fletcher]. He was the scion of an aristocratic family, and had
served with gallantry in the First World War, but was regarded by his relatives
as a black sheep and was paid a retainer to keep away from his ancestral home.
Bud was easily provoked to anger and possessed a vocabulary more suited to a
military barracks than to a drawing room. For a while Bud came to live with my
parents at their small flat. But his colourful language and indolent habits
brought my mother to the point where she decided he had to go.… Later when he
became a Buddhist monk and went to live in Burma,
my mother continued to correspond with him.”
It may not just have been Fletcher’s language that was
colourful, but also the tale he told to a newspaper reporter regarding his
life. According to the short article ‘British Major, Buddhist Monk: Strange
Career of Frederick Fletcher’ (The Age, Saturday, December 6, 1941, p.
6) by ‘WGB’:
“Born in London
61 years ago, he was a graduate of Oxford
University.… [and] in 1913 had been made associate member of the Institute
of Mechanical Engineers. The First
World War found him in the British Army with the rank of major. He fought in
the great battles at Ypres and on the Somme
…
In 1922, in company with Dr McGovern, and under the
patronage of Annie Besant’s Theosophist Society, he left to try to penetrate
the forbidden land of Tibet,
and got within 60 miles of the Holy City of Lhasa, but they were prevented from
going further. McGovern, with a good knowledge of the language, disguised
himself as a coolie and pushed on to Lhasa, while Frederick Fletcher entered
the great Tibetan Monastery at Shigatse—monastic home of 5000 monks. For 12
months he stayed there, living the life of a simple monk, spending his hours in
meditation, and learning the Tibetan language; while McGovern, whose identity
had quickly been discovered, lay in goal in Lhasa.
Riots broke out in the sacred city, and the monks urged Fletcher to flee back
to India before
the trouble reached Shigatse and he became involved.
To flee was not easy, but with nothing but his begging bowl
and robes he tracked back across the rugged mountains, across rocky passes
16,000 feet high, 400 miles back to India,
staying for some months at Darjeeling
under the shadow of Mt Everest.
Arrived at Calcutta,
he set out on the most strenuous task of his career. He tramped from Calcutta,
across to Bombay and down to Ceylon,
his only possessions staff, robe and begging bowl. Sometimes he never even had
robes. For several months during the 3-year-long pilgrimage he lived with the
sect of the Digambara Sadhus, who went about stark naked with ashes rubbed on
their bodies, He visited the great pundits and oracles, living for nearly 18
months with the Yogi, and studied under Sri Ramana Maharshi, the most famous
living Yogi.”
But
Fletcher’s alleged British Army officer rank, his stay at Shigatse as a monk
and, according to another story (1) his ordination in 1922 at
Shigatse in the Gelugpa Tibetan Buddhist tradition under the name of Lama Dorje
Prajnananda, is questionable in the light of other, more reliable, published
sources.
In a brief book of 79 pages, Intimate Glimpses of
Mysterious Tibet & Neighbouring Countries (1930), the author George E O
Knight, a Fellow of the Royal Geographical Society, informs the reader (1930:
9, 10):
“A casual ride on a bus in London
1921 not only culminated in one of the biggest and most daring adventures in Tibet,
but it was also instrumental in introducing to the notice of the British and
American publics the first moving pictures of [Lhasa].
A lecturing engagement had taken us to Bloomsbury.
The night was damp and foggy, so we occupied a seat inside the bus. A discarded
copy of a trade journal caught our eye, and quite casually we turned over its
leaves. In a rather obscure corner of the publication was a paragraph that ran
to this effect: ‘What a splendid opportunity now exists for securing the first
motion pictures of Lhasa, the
Forbidden City of Tibet!’
… In this manner five male Europeans set out for the ‘Roof
of the World,’ to the accompaniment of questions in the House of Commons as to
the military nature of the Expedition, and the jeers and chuckles of the
London and provincial Press, who one and all declared that the task the
Expedition had set itself was impossible of realisation.”
There were originally only four members of the expedition,
but at the last minute they were joined by Dr William M McGovern (1897–1964),
who had knowledge of Buddhism, Tibetan language and customs, and would famously
write an account of his more successful solo journey, To Lhasa in Disguise
(1924). He later became famous for his travel exploits, and has been described
as a prototype for the fictional film hero ‘Indiana Jones’.
There is no mention in McGovern’s book of being under the
patronage of the Theosophical Society. According to
McGovern, the expedition was assisted by William Dederich, F.R.G.S., who had been a friend of the
late Sir Ernest Shackleton and helped in the organization of Shackleton’s 1914
Antarctic expedition: “By his aid the
idea was soon placed on a stable basis, and active steps could be taken toward
sending out the exploring party” (1924: 11).
Along with McGovern, who would act as scientific adviser,
the expedition comprised of Mr Fredrick Fletcher, who was to act as geologist
and transport officer; Mr George E O Knight, the leader, who would look after
botanical and zoological research; Captain J E Ellam, the co-leader, who was to
devote himself to the study of the political and religious institutions of Tibet;
and Mr William Harcourt, the appointed cinematographer. In July, 1922, the
party set sail for India
with the intent to penetrate Tibet,
take the first moving pictures of the Lhasa,
and meet the Thirteenth Dalai Lama.
McGovern confirms (1924: 11) Frederick
Fletcher was part of the expedition. He is not mentioned by name in Knight’s
book, but there is an interesting reference to him (1930: 24):
“Snow began to fall in places, riders and mules found
themselves in an occasional bog, from which they had to be extricated. Once we
were up to our necks in mud and slime … a mule disappeared over the precipice
several thousands of feet beneath us, and we nearly lost our Transport Officer
in much the same manner. But he was a Sergeant-Major, and just knew how to pull
himself together and address the mule in terms only Sergeant-Majors know how.”
It
appears that Fletcher did not in fact hold the British Army officer rank of
Major. As to the alleged stay at a monastery at Shigatse, this would doubtless
have been in reference to the Tashilhunpo Monastery. The historic and
culturally important monastery is next to Shigatse, the second-largest city in Tibet,
the traditional seat of the Panchen Lama, and home to around 4,000 monks. But
the chances of a westerner gaining admittance at the Tashilhunpo Monastery,
staying there for a year, and also obtaining ordination, are doubtful. Neither Knight nor McGovern (the latter of whom had knowledge of
Tibetan Buddhism and culture, and at the age of 20 earned a divinity degree
from a Buddhist monastery in Kyoto, Japan)
mention that Fletcher had done so. The Panchen Lama, (2) the second
highest dignitary in Tibet, would not have been impressed by Mr Fletcher, nor by the fact that the expedition team, on reaching the city of Gyangste, were
declined permission to enter Lhasa and ordered to return to India. The mission
was a failure—though the enterprising McGovern later managed to enter the
‘forbidden city’ through the back door, so to speak, and also visited Shigatse
along the way. (3) McGovern states (1924: 59): “Consequently Knight, Fletcher,
and Harcourt immediately returned to India by the same way by which we had come
…” McGovern and Ellam “remained in Gyangtse a short time longer in order to
send in a further petition to the Lhasa authorities, asking that they
reconsider their decision and allow us to come to the Forbidden City or,
failing this, that we be permitted to visit Shigatse.” But the requests were
declined and both men returned to India.
Once
back in Darjeeling, William
McGovern revealed to his four English friends his plans to enter Tibet
alone. “This led to tremendous discussion, but in the end the proposition won
favour of all … At first it was proposed that I be accompanied by one of the
other members of the late mission, but eventually it was unanimously agreed
that I should attempt the task of getting to Lhasa alone, insomuch as I was the
only one who could speak Tibetan at all fluently. This meant that I was forced
to spend some time in learning from Harcourt the act of cinematography, as I
was anxious to secure a film of the Sacred
City (1924: 64). Note that Fletcher
did not travel with McGovern, who left Darjeeling
on January 1923, and he therefore never actually visited the city of Shigatse,
let alone remained there for a year as an ordained monk. McGovern again
confirms this on his return (1924: 462): “… The next day, April 17, was a most
memorable one, because it was then that I reached Darjeeling
and rejoined my good friends, Knight, Ellam, and Fletcher.”
Given
the above, I am inclined to conclude that Fletcher’s title of ‘Lama Dorje
Prajnananda’ is sham. He was certainly not ordained at
Shigatse. The likelihood is that Frederick Fletcher returned to England
shortly after McGovern arrived back from his solo journey to Lhasa,
which confirms Kenneth Hurst’s account of him staying with his parents sometime
in 1923. But certainly, in 1926 (some say, 1924) Fletcher was in Burma,
where he received Theravada ordination. He had entered a monastery at Mandalay,
later transferring to Rangoon. He
probably thereafter travelled in India
(was this the ‘3-year-long pilgrimage’ referred to in The Age?) where he
met Brunton again in 1930. Apart from one lecture tour to England,
Canada, and America
in 1931, Bhikkhu Prajnananda is said to have lived in Burma
as a monk until his death.
It is evident that Brunton had kept in contact with
Fletcher, and had arranged to meet him in India,
where the latter acted as guide for his friend, and introduced him to Ramana
Maharshi. Yet Brunton failed to acknowledge Bhikkhu Prajnananda in his book Secret
India, instead preferring to use the character of: a “yellow robed Yogi”
called ‘Subrahmanya’, who for seven years was a soldier of “His Majesty the
King Emperor,” had “served with the ranks in the Indian Army during the
Military campaign,” and who tells Brunton that after the war he was “put into
the Military Accounts Department because of my superior intelligence” (1934:
117). Perhaps Brunton was aware that his friend, like himself, was not all that
he pretended to be.
To be continued …
Notes:
1.
See Graeme Lyall: “Buddhism and the Future of Humanity”, who states that:
“In 1922, a
British expedition set out for Tibet in order to study Tibetan Buddhism.
They reached the southern Tibetan city of Shigatse but were refused permission to
proceed to the capital Lhasa where they had hoped to meet the
Thirteenth Dalai Lama. However, one of their number, Frederic[k] Fletcher,
ordained in the Gelugpa or Yellow Hat tradition under the name of Lama Dorje
Prajnananda.”
2. In 1924 the 9th Panchen Lama, Thubten Choekyi
Nyima, departed for China
“after a dispute with the thirteenth Dalai Lama when he sensed that he might
face a threat after his own monastery’s monks were prohibited from holding any
office in the Central Tibetan government and his officials were locked up in Lhasa. The Dalai Lama was attempting to collect
revenue from the Panchen Lama’s estate to cover a fourth of Tibet's military
expenses, and to reduce the power of the Panchen Lama, who at the time enjoyed
rule over an effectively autonomous region around Shigatse” (Wikipedia).
3. The real star of the expedition was American born William
McGovern. The original expedition had succeeded in entering Tibet,
but was prevented from going to the sacred city of Lhasa.
They all, including Frederick Fletcher, returned to India, arriving in
Darjeeling before January 1923. A few weeks afterwards, the intrepid McGovern,
who had good knowledge of Tibetan language, customs and Buddhism, ventured
again to Tibet, this time alone disguised as a native porter, and succeeded in
entering Lhasa. According to Peter Hopkirk (Trespassers on the Roof of the World, 1982: 227–28): “… Dr William
Montgomery McGovern of the School of Oriental Studies, in London, disguised as
a native caravan porter, had entered Tibet from India and successfully got to
Lhasa. He had to sleep in infested cowsheds with other caravan men, live off
raw meat, and at times struggle chest-deep through snowdrifts. But in Lhasa
illness forced him to drop his disguise and confess his presence to the
authorities. While they were deciding on his fate, word got around that there
was a trespasser in town. Soon a large crowd had gathered outside the house whhe
was lodging, shouting ‘death to the foreigner’ and hurling sticks and stones at
the windows. Fortunately none of the mob knew what he looked like, so before
they could force their way into the house he managed to escape, still
disguised, through a side door. Making his way to the back of the crowd, he
tells us in his book To Lhasa in Disguise, he joined it for a while.
‘Not to be outdone by the others, I occasionally let out a yell myself, and to
make things very realistic picked up a small stone and threw it at my own
window.’ By now the authorities had troops positioned to rescue him if the
crowd broke into the house, but by evening the mob had drifted away and he was
able to return home from the Tibetan official’s house where he had found
shelter.… McGovern was allowed to remain in the holy city under house arrest
for the best part of a month while he recovered from dysentery and what appears
to have been pneumonia.… Finally, after an audience with the Dalai Lama, and
being pardoned by the authorities, he left for India with an armed
escort.” William McGovern states
(1924: 8) it was the “Lhasa monks”
who lead the riot against him, “and the civil government, in an attempt to
protect my person, was forced to declare me a prisoner of the state until the
popular clamour had subsided.”
Copyright © 2013 Stephen J Castro
