CHINA, TIBET AND BURMA
Early in May 1876, William Gill was wondering where next to explore. A friend he met in Trafalgar Square said, ‘Why not China?’ Although not initially convinced, within a fortnight Gill had been persuaded by his friend that it was a good idea. So, after further consideration, he visited the eminent geographer Colonel Henry Yule at the India Office to find out more.
Colonel Yule was well aware of Gill’s work but the two men had never met. Gill explained to Yule that he was contemplating an expedition by way of western China into Tibet or eastern Turkistan and would appreciate advice and guidance. Henry Yule suggested that he ‘make Marco Polo his bosom friend.’ He also introduced William Gill to two important contacts: Baron Ferdinand von Richtofen and Thomas Thornville Cooper.

Baron Ferdinand von Richtofen (left) and Thomas Thornville Cooper
Baron von Richtofen was one of the greatest explorers of his time and in Yule’s view, ‘the most illustrious and accomplished of modern travellers in China’. Cooper was the first European, other than the French Roman Catholic missionaries, to penetrate the mountains west of Sichuan and had unsuccessfully tried to cross via Tibet from Sichuan to India and from Assam to China. William Gill met Cooper in Colonel Yule’s room at the India Office shortly before leaving England.
Then, on 26th June 1876, William Gill took the Ostend steamer from Dover and, armed with a letter of introduction from Colonel Yule, travelled by train to Berlin to consult Baron von Richtofen:
Hour after hour he gave up his valuable time to me, and opened volumes from his rich store of information. … Baron von Richtofen possesses in a remarkable manner the faculty of gathering up the details presented to his view; putting them together and generalising on them with rare judgement; forming out of what would be to a lesser genius, but scattered and unintelligible fragments, a uniform and comprehensive whole … not one hint was given me that did not subsequently prove its value; his kind thoughts for my comfort and amusement were never ceasing, and his refined and cultivated intellect and genial manner rendered the recollections of my stay in the German capital some of the most pleasant of my life.
Unter den Linden, Berlin
From Berlin, Captain Gill travelled to Marseilles and on 30th July was on the French steamer ‘Ava’ as it headed east. It was a rather boring, hot and uneventful journey via the Bay of Naples, Straits of Messina, Suez Canal, Red Sea and Straits of Malacca. He reached Singapore on 26th August and Saigon three days later. The next port of call was Hong Kong, where William Gill was glad to pass a few days with friends. Finally, on 8th September 1876, the ‘Ava’ reached its ultimate destination, Shanghai. There he took the American ship ‘Chih-Li’ to Tianjin (Tien-Tsin), the main port for Beijing, at the junction of the Hai River and the ancient Grand Canal.

Hong Kong harbour (left) and Tianjin
Early on 20th September, William Gill started out for the imperial capital with a Chinese servant called Chin-Tai, a horse-boy and three baggage carts. In the late afternoon of the following day, they arrived at the British Legation in Beijing. Four days later, Captain Gill set off with a legation employee, Mr Carles, for a five week journey to the Great Wall and the coast. They crossed the wall, went northeast towards Inner Mongolia as far as Ta-tzu-kou, then back to the coast, to where the wall meets the sea near Shanhaiguan. They then followed the coast southwest to the Luan estuary, before crossing the flat country back to Beijing and Tianjin, which they reached in November. William Gill found the journey ‘a useful prelude and preparation for the more serious work to follow’ but was less than impressed by the ‘interminable plains’ and ‘filthy though picturesque villages’.

Route of Gill's first expedition in China (left) and (right) the Great Wall of China
The second stage was much more arduous. The original intention was to go through northwest China to Kashi and Kyrgyzstan and thence back to Europe. Unsettled diplomatic relations between Russia and Britain, and the possibility that Gill would be needed for other duties, put paid to this. Instead, he decided to head home by going up the greatest river in Asia, the Yangtze, then across eastern Tibet to Bhamo in Burma (Myanmar), the navigable limit for steamers on the Irrawaddy.
On 21st November therefore, Gill returned to Shanghai and started making preparations for his great expedition. He hired a second servant, Chung-Erh, and started packing provisions. These included such relative luxuries as three types of soap, a box of toothpicks and a bottle of Worcester sauce.
Edward Colborne Baber
Accordingly, on 23rd January 1877, Gill set out from Shanghai with his servants. He was accompanied by Edward Colborne Baber, formerly British vice-consul at Tamsuy, Formosa and shortly to become Chinese secretary of the British Legation at Beijing. Baber was currently the British representative at Chongqing and brought his servants, one of whom had worked with von Richtofen. The party travelled up the Yangtze as far as Hankou (now part of Wuhan) on the steamer Hankow. This was luxuriously appointed and similar to a Mississippi river boat. It took a week to reach the city, where they hired a humbler vessel, commanded by an old woman, to proceed up river. In early March they reached Yichang (I-Cha’ng), which although 600 miles inland as the crow flies, and even further by boat, was open to foreign traders under one of the (in Chinese eyes) ‘unequal treaties’. After a few days there, the party continued upstream, reaching the major city of Chongqing early on 8th April. Gill commented on the old lady captain, who cornered them while disembarking:
Before we left the ship, Old Jezebel came with her child and, kneeling on the ground, burst into a flood of tears declaring that she was the most miserable and unfortunate woman in the world, that she was a lone widow with no one to keep her, that everyone conspired against her, that she was no match for the wicked people with whom she was surrounded, that although she felt how high a distinction she had gained by being allowed to bring our honourable selves up here, still her misfortunes had been many, that she was out of pocket by the transaction and hoped that our noble and honourable selves would not allow her and her orphan child to die of starvation.
As a histrionic performance it was not altogether mean. The old woman having got out of us half as much again as any Chinaman would have paid her, with the fiercest and foulest tongue that inspires awe if not respect, I can imagine no one better able to look after number one.
Captain Gill was not impressed by Baber’s house:
An entrance with folding doors leads into a second court 25 feet by 20 broad. The first half is covered with a roof of tiles and on each side are rooms divided from the court by wooden partitions, the upper half of which is open trellis work (this in winter is covered with paper) opposite the entrance. Three steps lead into the main room 14 feet by 17 feet and 12 feet high. The floor is of stone and mud, the walls of wood, that on the side towards the court does not come to within three inches of the ground and the upper half is open trellis work. On each side of the main room is a bedroom, each of these the same size as the sitting room but with no entrance for light except the door and a little hole in the roof.
On each side of the sitting room are four stiff uncompromising armchairs with a good deal of carving of dragons and between each chair is a little high square table. These are stained like old mahogany and polished.
Imagine the walls and roof to be about as dirty as they well can be and you may have some idea of the house Her Majesty’s representative occupies at Ch’ung Ch’ing [Chongqing].
The Chinese have no idea of convenience or inconvenience, and before our chairs had well let us down, visitors came in and sat talking. The budding magistrate with his perpetual tongue, Mê [a Chinese Christian] and another, and it was past 7 before they all left. I don’t know how Baber felt but I find it exceedingly wearisome to sit by the hour and hear the perpetual wag-wagging of these unknown tongues.
But Gill was obviously amused by a magpie that teased Tib, a brown retriever he had acquired and which had accompanied them up river:
There is a semi-tame magpie in the house which perches on a post in the yard. Tib barks at it and jumps, whereon it flies into the next court and Tib rushes violently after it, upsetting anybody and anything he may meet with in his course. He then begins hunting about the court as if the bird was likely to be underground, the magpie the while calmly sitting over his head and watching him. At last the magpie shouts out ‘here I am, just over your head.’ Tib looks up and makes a futile jump. The magpie flies back to where he came from. Tib bolts after him and the process is renewed. Tib sits watching the magpie by the half hour. In fact, his mind is sorely exercised by this facetious bird which clearly enters into the fun of the thing and delights to tease the foolish dog.
The territory between China and India had been little explored by Europeans. One of the few who had passed that way was Augustus Margary, Gill’s contemporary at Brighton College. Margary was the first Englishman to explore the route between Burma and China, but had been murdered. On 14th April 1877, Gill writes:
Mê owns a house in Ta-li-fu [Dali] and it was with him that Margary stopped on his way through. At this time Margary was well treated and he got on very well but after he was killed this excited the people against him (Margary) and against all foreigners. There is a belief amongst a very large number of Chinamen that a foreigner can come to life again. The people of Ta-li-fu were told this and believing that he was hidden with Mê and being told that he had 4,000 taels with him, the populace stormed Mê’s house and searched for Margary and the money, of course finding neither. [A tael was worth about 6 shillings, equivalent to about £12 today.] They then pulled down the house in revenge. If Baber goes to Ta-li-fu again, Mê wants to go with him to look after his house and property.
Baber has translated the poem that has been written in our honour into poetry also. He heads it: ‘As others see us.’
The sea folk once a tributary Band, in growing
numbers tramp o’er the land
English and French with titulary sounds, as of a nation are the merest
hounds
Nothing they wot [knew] of Gods in earth or sky, nothing of famous
dynasties gone by
One of their virgins, clasped in my embrace, told me last year the
secrets of their race
But all their deeds of darkness are as nought, compared with vileness
by the Fathers wrought
I know their features – goblins of the West, I know the elf
locks on the devils crest
Cunning artificers no doubt but far beneath our potency in peace or war
But now our opportunity is near; learning and valour are assembled here
Let all to the Cathedral doors repair, grapple the dogs and never think
to spare!
I rede [advise] ye right! Shall savages presume to harry China and
escape the doom?
No! Let us all with emulous might combine, to crush the priests and
save the Imperial line
First slay the Bishop, tear away his hide, hack out his bones and let
his fat be fried
And for the rest who have confessed the faith, drag them along and
roast them all to death!
For when these weeds are rooted from the plain, what magic art can give
them life again.
In the second line, the author denies naturality to foreigners. The Chinese generally understand the existence of foreigners as a few savages away in the west, all tributary to their nation. In line 6, he refers to the features of the foreigners which all Chinamen consider worse than hideous. Foreigners are usually credited with red hair which in their eyes is an abomination, hence the reference to elf locks. The author shows an unusual amount of knowledge in crediting us all with being cunning artificers. Usually Chinese think we are ignorant of everything. In line 8 reference is made to the approaching [Chinese military and civil service] examinations. The last line refers to the popular belief that foreigners can come to life again, and once more showing more knowledge that might have been expected, combats this belief. It is extraordinary that the profound and desperate ignorance in which the Chinese are steeped is not more generally recognised among Europeans who consider China as the model of a civilized country.
What a pity it is that Mr Gladstone and others who seem to think it necessary to wage crusades against the oppressors of Christianity in Europe do not turn their attention to this side of the world where Bulgarian atrocities are committed over and over again. [The Ottomans had recently massacred an estimated 30,000 Bulgarian men, women and children.] Not one single argument that has been used with regard to Turkey but would apply to this country, and if we insisted on an effectual guarantee for the protection of Christians, we might combine with Russia and occupy the whole country, including Thibet. And as Mr Gladstone and that lot are so desirous of seeing that humane and Christianizing Russia our next door neighbours, they would then have the cup of their dreams filled to the brim. Not a single speech has been spoken, not one article written that might not be applied to China, but those politicians (Lose the mark!) are devoid of logic, happily for them.
Important news arrived that day from the French Roman Catholic missionaries working in the area. Father Provot had visited Baber and Gill on the morning they arrived, to be followed a few hours later by the genial and pro-British bishop, Monseigneur Desflêches. Father Provot was, wrote Gill, ‘a tall pleasant man, dressed in Chinese clothes, and with an artificial plait, for the missionaries in China invariably discard foreign clothes’:
Père Provot came today to congratulate us on our installation in the house. He told us that the Bishop had again gone to Chen-tu [Chengdu] to see the new governor general of the province. This officer is usually called Viceroy by foreigners but Baber reprimanded us severely for making use of it, so I humbly apologized and I quite agree with him in thinking it a great pity that Europeans should call their Chinese officials by a higher title than they have a right to. To call a man a viceroy is to put him on the same level as the viceroy of India, so henceforward I have promised Baber to use the term Governor General.
Père Provot gave us news of Thibet. In the Cheefoo convention an article was inserted relative to a proposed mission to Thibet and I heard a year ago nearly that Ney Elias was to conduct it. But when we left Shanghai nothing was known of it for certain there and nothing was known of it at Peking when last we heard. It seems impossible that the Indian government are sending an expedition without the co-operation of our minister at Peking. If they have, the expedition must be a failure, if not a fiasco.
The French missionaries, like the Chinese, found it very difficult to believe that Gill was a private individual travelling for his own purposes. Père Provot showed Gill and Baber a letter in French from Monseigneur Chauveau, Bishop of Sebastopol, written at Ta-tsien-lou (also known as Tachienlu, Dajianlu, Dartsedo, Tartsendo or Kangding) on 29th March 1877. It described the concern of the Tibetans now that Russian and English commissions were approaching Tibet, and the reluctance of the Tibetan people, stirred up by the Lamas, to receive foreigners:
Père Provot allowed us to take a copy of the letter, which is exceedingly interesting. I should much like to know more about the mission. An expedition to Thibet undertaken by our government is most wise, but it should be done on such a scale and in such a way as to ensure success. A failure would be disastrous in every way. What a pity that succeeding governors general did not follow up the policy of Warren Hastings, who sent a mission to Lhassa, where Bogle was so well received. Since his day two causes have combined to make the Thibetans dread the approach of Europeans. Firstly, our power in India has so enormously increased that the Thibetans say with much justice, wherever an Englishman comes, he soon possesses the country: once we let an Englishman enter we shall lose our country. The second adverse influence is of the missionaries. In the time of Bogle there had been few, if any, attempts on the part of the missionaries to approach Thibet and in those days the Lamas had no fear of foreigners upsetting their religion. [George Bogle was British envoy to, and a personal friend of, the Lama of Tibet in 1774-5.] But since then there have been so many missionaries on the borders, and these being the only foreigners the Thibetans know, they naturally fear for the supremacy of their religion.
In the days of Bogle and Manning, and even as late as the time of Huc [a French missionary who in 1850 published a book, Voyages dans la Tartarie, le Tibet et la Chine] it appeared that the Thibetans themselves, neither Lamas nor people, offered any objections to the approach of Europeans but that all the opposition, great as it was, came entirely from the Chinese officials. But since that time it would appear from what Desgodins says in his book, and from all I can gather from the missionaries and others who have looked into the question, that even if the Chinese authorities should give bona fide assistance, an expedition would now meet with most obstinate opposition on the part of the Lamas. Nevertheless, it will be disgraceful if England does not manage to effect an entrance. The Russians most certainly will, and as usual, we shall find ourselves cut out by our natural foe.
From what I can gather also, the Russians are assisting Yacoob Beg [for a time the conqueror of all Chinese Turkestan] who appears to have joined the Tunganis against China, we the while placidly looking on while Russia makes one gigantic stride after another towards our Indian frontier. However, no news from that quarter can be considered trustworthy at this distance.
On a lighter note, Gill was having problems with high-tech novelties:
I brought out some musical boxes, thinking they might be useful as presents but out of six, three of the best won’t work. I asked Mê if he thought they could be repaired here. He said he thought so and took one away to see. He tells me you can buy them here for 2 taels!! – about 12 shillings. When I bought these things, I fondly believed I should find some place where they would be novelties, but I could not buy one in London for less than 14 or 15 shillings.
He noted the weather:
The day was the usual dull, cloudy, windless, rainless, negative sort of day, neither hot nor cold. Thermometer 70 at 3 o’clock.
The following day, 15th April 1877, Gill wrote again about the tension between the Europeans and the Chinese:
A huge official placard was stuck up on our door all yesterday and today, which does not quite satisfy the exigencies of the uncompromising Baber. It is to the effect that Baber has come here solely to look after trade, and that he has no connection whatever with the missionaries, that people are to respect him and any rioters will be severely punished, given under our seal, etc, etc. Baber says that England is not written big enough and should be at the top of the placard, but he will, I fancy, complain of this. He has sent a copy of the poem (indeed the original that was torn off the walls, I think) to Peking and is going to tell the Iao Tai he has done so. These incendiary poems are very common and in one place Baber was, he used always to have them framed and glazed and whenever a mandarin came to pay him a visit, they were put up in the most prominent positions on the walls of the room. It is, of course, the business of the officials not to allow these things to be put up. But they always wink at it and in their hearts like to see them, for however friendly in appearance they may be, they simply hate us.
William Gill intended to travel across Tibet with Mr Mesny, a Jersey-born Briton who had long worked for the Chinese. While at Chongqing on 14th April 1877, Gill writes:
Received a letter from Mesny dated 14th March from Knei Gan in which he said he could leave there 4th April at latest for this place direct and he may come any day. Mesny came out here originally with the army, being then an armourer sergeant. He subsequently got into the service of the Chinese government who employ him in their arsenals. He has married a Chinese wife who henpecks him sadly according to the account of the budding magistrate who knows him well, and as far as he can, he has turned Chinaman. Mê asked Baber if Mesny could ever go back to England, as he had now become a Chinaman which he did not quite seem to understand.
Knowing that Mesny would not arrive for some weeks, William Gill left Chongqing on 26th April and journeyed to Chengdu, the capital of Sichuan, about 170 miles north of the Yangtze river. He took not only his servants but Tib the dog, a pony and pony-boy, 20 coolies to carry his luggage, four coolies to carry him in a sedan-chair, and four to carry his servant’s smaller sedan-chairs. But he found travelling Chinese-style by chair neither dignified nor comfortable, and rapidly abandoned it, preferring to walk.
Captain Gill arrived at Chengdu on 9th May. Concluding that Mesny would be some time getting there, Gill decided to make a month-long 400 mile circular journey through the mountains of northern Sichuan, ‘the Min Mountains of the ancient Yü-kung’ to Sungpan (Sung-P’an-T’ing). In Chinese eyes, this was the source of the main stream of the Yangtze. According to Colonel Yule, there was no record of any European visiting this territory.
Route of Gill's later travels in China, Tibet and Burma
Having sought advice from the local Catholic bishop, Monseigneur Pinchon, William Gill set out from Chengdu on 18th May. Eight baggage coolies, his chair coolies and four official messengers provided by the local magistrate, accompanied him. On this journey William Gill encountered the highland races known to the Chinese as Mantzu and Sifan. Colonel Yule later ascribed the success of this expedition to Gill’s ‘indomitable resolution, accompanied by patience, temper, tact and sympathy.’
William Gill returned to Chengdu about 20th June and the following day Mesny arrived there:
Now the very serious question presented itself, whether I could carry out my intention of travelling through Kansu to Kashgar. My whole difficulty lay in European politics. Supposing that I had found myself unable to proceed any further towards Kashgar than Urumchi, I could have passed through Russia, if there had been no danger of England being entangled in a war with that country. But with England and Russia at war, this of course would have been impossible; and if unable to enter Kashgar, I should have had no choice but the dreary journey in mid-winter back to Peking; and even should the road to Kashgar have been clear, the mountain passes would not have been open, and I must have waited north of the Himalayas until the spring. This would not have deterred me for one moment but for the critical state of affairs between our country and Russia; in the event of war it was equally my duty and desire to be somewhere within hail, and I could not feel myself justified in running the risk of being buried for so many months in central Asia.
This was the more disappointing, as I had everything prepared for the journey – provisions, clothes, and about three thousand taels in silver. I was very loth to give it up; but after anxiously reading every word in the scanty items of European news that were available, and after thinking over the matter night and day, sorely against my will, and with a heavy sigh, I at last determined to come home with as much speed as possible, but at the same time by some new road.
Ta-tsien-lou, Dartsedo or Kangding
Gill and Mesny therefore agreed to travel via Batang to northern Myanmar (Burma). They set out on 10th July with 60 coolies – 40 carrying baggage, the rest to carry sedan chairs for Gill, Mesny and their servants. The pair then travelled through Ta-tsien-lou (Tachienlu, Dajianlu, Dartsedo, Tartsendo or Kangding). At an altitude of more than 8,300 feet, this was the ‘Chinese Gate of Tibet’ and the residence of the French Bishop Chauveau of Sebastopol, Vicar Apostolic of Lhasa. The Bishop, whose mother was English, helped Gill exchange silver bullion for lighter gold ingots and provided a home for Gill’s dog Tib, who was no longer fit to travel. From there, they climbed to the Tibetan plateau, which is mostly more than 11,000 feet above sea level. Throughout their entire journey, Gill surveyed the route and measured the altitude with aneroid barometers and a hypsometric thermometer, a device that uses the boiling point of water to determine altitude.
They passed through eastern Tibet via Litang (more than 13,000 feet above sea level) to Batang (more than 8,500 feet), in the valley of a tributary of the Jinsha. This river is what Europeans regarded as the true upper Yangtze. The name Jinsha means ‘golden sand’ and inspired by this, William Gill named his book on the expedition The River of Golden Sand. At Batang they met more French Catholic missionaries, Fathers Desgodins and Biet. The latter succeeded Bishop Chauveau who died the following year.
Map of Tibeto-Chinese Frontier
Crossing the Jinsha, they followed its valley or the ridge between it and the upper Mekong valley for 24 days to Dali (Tali or Talifu), the western capital of Yunnan and about 6,700 feet above sea level. They arrived there in late September and were now re-entering known territory. Baber had surveyed the route from Dali to the Irrawaddy when accompanying the commission investigating the murder of Gill’s schoolmate Augustus Margary.
From Dali, Gill and Mesny headed towards Bhamo, a small stockaded town on the Irrawaddy. They passed the site at Man-Yün, on a tributary of the Irrawaddy about 70 miles northeast of Bhamo, where less than three years earlier Margary had been murdered. Stopping to pay their respects, Gill wrote of the occasion:
It was our fortune to be the humble instruments of thus honouring his name, but any feeling of gratification was lost in the thoughts of the rueful scene that had been enacted on that fatal shore. We had claimed the legacy bequeathed by him, but it was in sorrow that I felt that we had redeemed the right his life had purchased. I uncovered my head as the only tribute of respect that I could pay to the memory of one who will be ever dear to the heart, not only of those who knew him, but of all who value the noble qualities of uprightness, courage, and determination.
Gill and Mesny arrived at Bhamo on 1st November 1877. There the local political agent, Thomas Cooper, greeted them, one of the last people from whom Gill had taken advice before leaving England. The party stayed with Cooper until 6th November, then proceeded swiftly by steamer down the Irrawaddy to Rangoon and thence by sea to Calcutta where the expedition team disbanded.
William Gill’s scientific work, including the Chinese expeditions, was recognised on 26th May 1879, when the Royal Geographical Society awarded him one of its two annual gold medals. The R.G.S. award cited especially ‘the careful series of hypsometrical observations and the traverse survey’ made in western China and Tibet, ‘by which we have for the first time, the means of constructing with considerable accuracy profile sections of those elevated and little known regions. Also for the elaborate Memoir contributed to the Journal of the Society on the subject of his expedition, and for the maps of his route in 42 sheets, on a scale of two miles to the inch.’
Not only had he conducted valuable survey work but he had also brought back much interesting information about the tribes he encountered. These included the Musus and the Lisus, whose women wore costumes similar to the traditional Swiss style. Moreover, from the Musus he brought back to the British Museum a remarkable manuscript. This was in an unknown script, which an expert of the time thought might be a survival of a very ancient ideographic system, a way of depicting ideas via symbols.
The following year, the Geographical Society of Paris awarded William Gill a gold medal and John Murray published Gill’s two-volume account of the journey. Entitled The River of Golden Sand, the narrative of a journey through China and Eastern Tibet to Burmah, it had an introductory essay by Colonel Henry Yule. He subsequently wrote that the book ‘had with the public a fair, though hardly a brilliant success, being perhaps too bulky, though free from anything like padding.’ Baron von Richtofen was deeply impressed by William Gill’s work. He wrote:
Captain Gill’s results have been of the highest interest to me, particularly those of his journey north of Cheng-tu, and of his route between Ta-tsien-lu and Atentze. He is an acute observer of men and nature, and stands very high indeed by the accuracy and persistency with which he has carried through his surveying work … Many a famous traveller might learn in this respect from Captain Gill. The determination of so many altitudes is too a very important part of his work …
What of Gill’s other adviser, Thomas Cooper? Five months after greeting Gill at Bhamo, he was murdered at his home there by one of his sepoy guards.
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