Produced by Al Haines








[Illustration: Cover art]




CHINA'S REVOLUTION


[Frontispiece: GENERAL LI YUAN HUNG, THE LEADER OF THE REVOLUTION
Frontispiece.]


  CHINA'S REVOLUTION

  1911-1912

  A HISTORICAL AND POLITICAL
  RECORD OF THE CIVIL WAR


  BY

  EDWIN J. DINGLE



  WITH 2 MAPS AND 36 ILLUSTRATIONS



  NEW YORK
  McBRIDE, NAST & COMPANY
  1912




(_All rights reserved._)




  TO
  THOSE WHO LAID DOWN THEIR LIVES AND
  TO THE NEW CHINA PARTY
  IN THE HOPE THAT THEIR STRUGGLES FOR FREEDOM
  MAY HERALD THE DAWNING OF A DAY OF
  RIGHT AND TRUTH FOR CHINA
  THIS VOLUME IS INSCRIBED




{7}

AUTHOR'S NOTE

This volume is a popular history of the Revolution in China that
broke out at Wuchang, Hankow, and Hanyang in October of 1911.  The
narrative contains a good deal of new information touching upon
revolutionism in China, and the events leading up to the present
climax.  The magnitude of this Revolution cannot possibly be
understood yet; but this volume is written in the hope that it will
enable the student otherwise untutored to understand much that one
absorbs in Chinese life.

When the Revolution broke out, I was residing in Hankow.  Throughout
the war I remained in Hankow, leaving this centre for Shanghai during
the days when the Peace Conference was held in that city.  I am a
personal friend of the leader of the Revolution, General Li Yuan
Hung, and, by virtue of having all the time been in possession of
much exclusive information from behind the political curtain, am
probably equipped to write of the main doings of the Revolution in
that area where its effects were most marked.  On the very eve of the
Revolution, a book written by myself was published simultaneously in
England and America, which contains some strangely prophetic
utterances, and will give the reader who has not made Chinese
politics a study a general idea of the condition of the country when
the Revolution made the scales drop from the eyes of her teeming
millions.[1]

{8}

I wish gratefully to acknowledge the kind offices of Mr. Thos. F.
Millard, editor of the China Press, for allowing me free use of the
columns of that journal.  Much of my information has been culled from
the C.P., although many of the articles were written by myself for
that newspaper, whilst the war was in progress; but I am largely
indebted to that paper also for many of my general later facts.

Especially also do I wish to thank the Rev. Bernard Upward, of
Hankow, for the assistance he has rendered me whilst this volume was
being prepared.  The chapter entitled "Some Revolution Factors" is
from Mr. Upward's pen, as is also that headed "Yuan Shih K'ai"; many
of the illustrations shown in the volume also are reproductions from
Mr. Upward's splendid collection.  My warm thanks are also due to Mr.
Stanley V. Boxer, B.Sc., for the drawings from which the two maps
embodied in this volume were prepared, and for the explanatory note
accompanying the sketch map of the battlefields.

It should, perhaps, in fairness to myself, be mentioned that, owing
to absence from England, I have not had an opportunity of reading the
proof-sheets before this volume was printed.

EDWIN J. DINGLE.

  HANKOW, HUPEH, CHINA.
      _April_ 1, 1912.


[1] "Across China on Foot: Life in the Interior and the Reform
Movement."  Henry Holt & Co., New York.  $3.50.  J. W. Arrowsmith,
Ltd., Bristol, 16s.




{9}

CONTENTS


CHAPTER

I. THE REVOLUTION

II. THE AFTERMATH

III. GENERAL EXPECTATIONS

IV. GENERAL LI YUAN HUNG'S AMBITIONS FOR THE NEW CHINA

V. A PREMATURE OPENING

VI. THE EARLY HOSTILITIES

VII. THE BATTLE OF KILOMETRE TEN

VIII. THE BURNING OF HANKOW

IX. THE STRONGHOLD OF WUCHANG

X. LI YUAN HUNG SEEKS PEACE

XI. THE FALL OF HANYANG

XII. THE REPUBLIC SEEKS RECOGNITION

XIII. THE PEACE CONFERENCE--A MONARCHY OR A REPUBLIC?

XIV. THE COMING OF SUN YAT-SEN

{10}

XV. YUAN SHIH K'AI'S RETIREMENT

XVI. RECALLED TO SAVE THE MONARCHY

XVII. THE SZECHUEN REVOLT

XVIII. SOME REVOLUTION FACTORS

XIX. THE ABDICATION EDICT

XX. THE OUTLOOK FOR REFORM




{11}

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS


GENERAL LI YUAN HUNG .... Frontispiece

WHERE CHINA'S REVOLUTION STARTED

THE PROVINCIAL ASSEMBLY HALL, WUCHANG

A CAPTURED BOMB-MAKER

A QUEUELESS BRIGADE

TYPICAL REVOLUTIONARIES

THE RAW MATERIAL OF THE REVOLUTIONARY ARMY

THE CENTRAL MART OF THE WORLD

THE FLIGHT OF THE GUN-JUNKS

THE EFFECT OF A NAVAL BOMBARDMENT

PREPARED FOR EVENTUALITIES

FOES MEETING AS FRIENDS

TACHIMEN, WITH IMPERIALISTS IN OCCUPATION

THE BURNING OF HANKOW

THE SING SENG ROAD

THE TOLL OF THE DEAD

ESCAPED FROM WUCHANG

TOMMY ATKINS ON GUARD

{12}

HOW THE IMPERIALISTS CROSSED THE HAN

HUNAN SOLDIER

HUPEH SOLDIER

THE IMPREGNABLE HANYANG HILL

THE THREE-EYED BRIDGE

THE HANDY MAN ASHORE

DISMANTLED IMPERIAL GUN ON PURPLE MOUNTAIN, NANKING

THE UBIQUITOUS BOY

DR. WU TING-FANG

YIN CHANG

TANG SHAO-YI

FENG KUO-CHANG

HWANG HSING

DR. SUN YAT SEN

YUAN SHI-K'AI

A PRE-REVOLUTION GROUP

THE CHILD-EMPEROR OF CHINA

WHAT REMAINS OF HANKOW'S MAIN RIVER GATEWAY



MAPS

HANKOW NATIVE CITY, SHOWING BURNT AREA

WUHAN CENTRE: SKETCH MAP OF THE BATTLEFIELDS




{13}

CHINA'S REVOLUTION

1911-1912



CHAPTER I

THE REVOLUTION

The story of the great Chinese Revolution of 1911-12 will probably
never be told fully or accurately.  China is a continent in its vast
area.  Its population is one-fourth of the whole human race.  The
country is not opened up by roads or railways and travel generally is
arduous and slow; exaggeration among the people, as among all
Orientals, is second nature.  And so it would be at once impossible
for any one man closely to follow up and widely and accurately to
write of the Revolution which broke out at Wuchang last year, tracing
it up to the present moment and getting a clean political and
international outlook whilst doing so.  Although I have endeavoured
by careful study to get into focus with doings all over the Empire, I
confess that I have been unable to secure unimpeachable information
on any part of China other than that in which I was living (I speak
of the interior of China, for it was easy enough to be kept informed
in the main centres and the treaty ports whilst the telegraph lines
were intact).  Had there been roads and railways and communication of
a kind to render it physically possible to move about, even then this
would {14} have been impossible; for soon after the Revolution broke
the anti-foreign spirit and the outlawry shown in many parts of the
country forbade any European going far from the treaty ports--and, of
course, practically all foreigners were ordered to the coast by their
consuls.  Had a man a workable knowledge of the Chinese language in
character, it would have been foolish to form one's opinions from the
rumours that were printed everywhere in the Chinese Press.  And so it
comes about that only upon those things which one saw and did is a
man justified to write.

The reader, if he knows China, will need no further explanation, for
readily will he recognise my meaning.  He will understand by
experience what a mass of inconsistency and incongruity China and her
people are.  But to the Westerner who has never been into China nor
rubbed shoulders closely with this peculiar people it will perhaps be
necessary to add that life in China, in all its forms and phases, is
fraught with such a truly remarkable atmosphere of the unexpected
that to write on any Chinese man, woman, custom, habit, place, or
thing one is able only to generalise--unless he goes into the tedium
of particularising.  To get into line it is necessary so to cut down
and to prune and generally to reinterpret that when one has told his
story there seems to be very little at all in it.  But those who have
lived in China know the conditions.  They will have absorbed this
incomprehensible spirit of the country, will understand what is
written--and what is more important still, will magnetically feel
what is left out which the writer on Chinese affairs would have said.
When in writing upon men and things Chinese you think you have pruned
down all apparent misinterpretation or misrepresentation, you find
there is still a little pruning left to be done; you prune again, and
in the end you find you often are, to the Western mind,
misinterpreting and misrepresenting facts merely because you have
left out that which, to you, with {15} your Chinese eyes, appeared
untrue.  You see a thing in China and you think that you understand
it.  You fix it in your mind and tell yourself that you have absorbed
it, whatever it may be, and that you now have the final thought and
word and correct meaning.  But after a little time you find, by a
peculiar process of Chinese national twisting and shifting, no matter
what you see, hear, think, believe, your final thought and word and
correct meaning are changed completely.

This, perhaps, describes the political atmosphere during the
Revolution.  Into everything there came an exasperating suspense, a
terrible tangle of all national affairs, as there still must be for a
very long time to come.  Therefore to the man who sets out to write a
detailed history of China's Revolution, and correctly to diagnose the
effect of one event upon another in a consecutive and truthful line,
there at once appears a formidable task.

What the author has set out to do in this volume is to tell of what
he saw and understood, and then to put into print carefully
considered opinion on the general situation and a historical survey
of revolutions and main events in China that have led up to the
Revolution of last October.  This Revolution, although outbreaking
prematurely, was all wonderfully planned.  "The movement began to
take definite shape about fifteen or sixteen years ago," says Sun Yat
Sen, the greatest of Chinese revolutionists, though he had been
interested in the movement for a longer time than that.  "Three years
ago we were ready to take over Wuchang, Canton, and Nanking, but we
were waiting to gain control of the Peking soldiers.  We had been
working for some time through the students.  Following the war with
Japan, the Peking Government began to organise its new army, sending
students abroad to be trained to take charge of the army.  It was at
once seen that if the Manchus were able to organise and control a
modern army it would greatly strengthen their position, and the
Revolutionary {16} party set to work to counteract their efforts.
They worked through the students, so that when they returned to China
to take positions as officers in the army they came as
revolutionists.  The outbreak could not have been postponed for more
than a few months, but it did occur before it was expected.  We knew
that we had Wuchang, Nanking, and Canton, but there was a preliminary
outbreak at Canton, then another one last summer.  Then when the
outbreak at Wuchang occurred it was no longer possible to postpone
action, for the Government would have begun to disarm the soldiers
who sympathised with us.  At Canton they scattered our sympathisers
over the province, so that it was very difficult to concentrate them.
If our original plan had been carried out, there would have been very
little fighting.  Canton, Nanking, and Wuchang would have quietly
gone over to us, and then all the troops could have marched on Peking
if necessary.  We have always had half of the Peking troops with us."

Thus declared Sun Yat Sen--and there is little doubt he was right.
The hitherto irremediable suppression of the individual qualities and
national aspirations of the people arrested the intellectual, the
moral, and the material development of China.  The aid of revolution
was invoked to extirpate the primary cause, and China now proclaimed
the resultant overthrow of the despotic sway wielded by the Manchu
Dynasty and the establishment of a Republic.  The substitution of a
Republic for a Monarchical form of government was not the fruit of a
transient passion; it was the natural outcome of a long-cherished
desire for broad-based freedom, making for permanent contentment and
uninterrupted advancement.  It was the formal declaration of the will
of the Chinese nation.

In a manifesto issued to all friendly nations from the Republic of
China, when Sun Yat Sen was appointed Provisional President, it was
declared that "we, the Chinese people, are peaceful and law-abiding.
We {17} have waged no war except in self-defence.  We have borne our
grievances during two hundred and sixty-seven years of Manchu misrule
with patience and forbearance.  We have by peaceful means endeavoured
to redress our wrongs, secure our liberty, and ensure our progress,
but we have failed.  Oppressed beyond human endurance we deemed it
our inalienable right as well as our sacred duty to appeal to arms to
deliver ourselves and our posterity from the yoke to which we have so
long been subjected, and for the first time in our history inglorious
bondage has been transformed to an inspiring freedom splendid with a
lustrous light of opportunity.  The policy of the Manchu Dynasty has
been one of unequivocal seclusion and unyielding tyranny.  Beneath it
we have bitterly suffered, and we now submit to the free peoples of
the world the reasons justifying the Revolution and the inauguration
of our present government.  Prior to the usurpation of the Throne by
the Manchus, the land was open to foreign intercourse, and religious
tolerance existed, as is evidenced by the writings of Marco Polo and
the inscription on the Nestorian Tablet of Sian-fu.  Dominated by
ignorance and selfishness, the Manchus closed the land to the outer
world, and plunged the Chinese people into a state of benighted
mentality, calculated to operate inversely to their natural talents
and capabilities, thus committing a crime against humanity and the
civilised nations almost impossible of expiation."

[Illustration: WHERE CHINA'S REVOLUTION STARTED.  This picture of
Wuchang gives a good idea of the type of buildings seen in a Chinese
city.  Six hundred Manchus perished in Wuchang during the early days
of the slaughter.]

And there can be no doubt that, actuated by a perpetual desire for
the subjugation of the Chinese, by a vicious craving for
aggrandisement and wealth, the Manchus had governed China to the
lasting injury and detriment of the people, creating privileges and
monopolies and erecting about themselves barriers of exclusion in
national custom and personal conduct which were rigorously maintained
throughout the centuries.  They had levied irregular and unwholesome
taxes upon the Chinese without their consent, {18} restricted foreign
trade to treaty ports, placed likin embargoes upon merchandise in
transit, and obstructed internal commerce.  They had retarded the
creation of industrial enterprises, rendered impossible the
development of natural resources, and wilfully neglected to safeguard
vested interests.  They had denied the people a regular system and
impartial administration of justice; inflicted unusual and cruel
punishments upon all persons charged with offences, whether innocent
or guilty; and frequently had encroached upon Chinese sacred rights
without due process of law.  They had connived at official
corruption, sold offices to the highest bidder, and had subordinated
merit to influence.  They repeatedly rejected the Chinese people's
most reasonable demand for better government, and reluctantly
conceded pseudo-reforms under most urgent pressure, making promises
without intention of fulfilling them.

Thus the manifesto showed up the weak spots in the Manchu
governmental policy.  And it continued: "To remedy these evils and
render possible the entrance of China to the family of nations, we
have fought and formed our Government; lest our good intentions
should be misunderstood, we now publicly and unreservedly declare the
following to be our promises:--


    "All treaties entered into by the Manchu Government before the
    date of the Revolution will be continually effective up to the
    time of their termination; but any and all entered into after the
    commencement of the Revolution will be repudiated.

    "All foreign loans or indemnities incurred by the Manchu
    Government before the Revolution will be acknowledged without any
    alteration of terms; but all payments made to and loans incurred
    by the Manchu Government after the commencement of the Revolution
    will be repudiated.

    "All concessions granted to foreign nations or their nationals by
    the Manchu Government before the Revolution will be respected,
    but any and all granted after the commencement of the Revolution
    will be repudiated.

    "All persons and property of any foreign nation within the
    jurisdiction of the Republic of China will be respected and
    protected.

    "It will be our constant aim and firm endeavour to build upon
    {19} a stable and enduring foundation a national structure
    compatible with the potentialities of our long neglected country.

    "We will strive to elevate our people, secure them in peace, and
    legislate for their prosperity."


At this juncture it were idle to investigate how far these ideals
have been reached.  There has as yet been no time for deep national
reforms to have been worked, and it is not the ambition of this
volume to go deeply into political actualities.  But no one,
realising now that the Manchu rule in China has passed for ever, will
doubt that, with such excellent qualities of common sense and eminent
industry as the Chinese possess, we shall see a nation move that may
move the world with it.  The day will assuredly come, perhaps it is
not so very far distant, when the Occidental observer will look
around to see the globe girdled with an indissoluble bond of Chinese
peoples, no longer too weak for aggression, but independent in all
departments of national life.  They will be taken up as equals into
social relations of the white races.  They are now struggling among
themselves, asking merely to be allowed to fight out their own civil
battles and order their own civil affairs.  They will make mistakes,
but probably will profit by them.  The day will come when Chinese
will no longer be elbowed and hustled by their haughtier Occidental
neighbours, but perhaps instead we shall find ourselves entered into
no easy international and commercial competition with people whom not
so long since we looked down upon as servile and considered fit only
to minister to our needs in manual ways.  The problems that loom
across the threshold of the future of this newly emancipated race,
however, surpass in magnitude any that civilisation has hitherto had
to encounter.  There are clear indications of progress, but they are
not yet clear enough.  China has to be remade, and those engaged in
the project may blunder because of the varied and widely varying
patterns they have in stock to choose from.

{20}

Certain phases of development we are sure of.  We are able to place
our fingers upon certain points in China's national propaganda and
say with certainty that such and such a line is bound to be followed,
such and such a thing bound to happen.  But, generally speaking,
China is a land of unintelligibility; the best advice one can give is
to "wait and see."




{21}

CHAPTER II

THE AFTERMATH

One of the almost certain features of the effect of the Revolution,
however, will be China's increased foreign trade--probably 100 per
cent., says Sun Yat Sen.

The year 1913 should mark a stride in commercial progress in China
such as the world never before has seen.  1912 will probably be a
year of unrest and uncertainty.  The formation of a permanent
Government and the election of a Cabinet, the dispatch of competent
officials to outlying places, and the putting down of outlawry in the
provinces will be a big programme for this year--if it is
accomplished.  But 1913 and the following years will probably unfold
a remarkably rapid advance in exports and imports.  China has held
back from all things foreign centuries enough, but during the past
two decades the seed has been sown for such a harvest of trade and
commercial prosperity as shall keep the factories of the West hard at
work to cope with the demands--that is, if the merchants of the West
are quick to seize their chances as they come.  And in this volume
the author feels that it were well at this juncture, when an
opportunity is presented to English and American traders to come in
and take possession of the trade China is prepared to foster, to
speak of the commercial possibilities which the next decade will give.

The reader will probably understand that, despite the enormous
foreign imports which for years have come into China, there is not a
tithe of the trade done yet {22} which will be done with the opening
up of the country, now almost bound to ensue.  China's market is
stupendous.  The possibilities are wider than the average home
manufacturer has any conception of.  From the China Sea to the
British Burma border, from the southern port of Canton up through all
the partially opened Eastern provinces, through the whole of the
wonderful Yangtze Valley to the practically untouched west, and away
into newly touched areas where the inhabitants are all anxious to buy
foreign goods, there is presented an unparalleled opportunity for the
foreign manufacturer.  Any one who has taken an intelligent interest
in China's trade with foreign countries must have been impressed with
the fact that she was not importing one-hundredth part of what she
could easily handle.  And if he had studied closely any particular
district where some foreign import had been taken or foreign industry
had been started and watched the phenomenal commercial growth in that
particular district, he immediately would gather some idea of the
far-reaching possibilities for the expansion of foreign trade in
China.

Even the recent changes in dress wrought by the Revolution have shown
the enormous demand there is for re-dressing the Chinese; with the
passing of the queue they decided against the little round Manchu
hat, an article made almost exclusively in China.  Immediately there
came a cry for the foreign hat; at once a trade was created, into the
country there came all kinds and conditions and shapes of foreign
head-gear--felts, cloth caps, and all sorts; they sold in hundreds of
thousands and had to be supplied by some one.  China, at all events,
could not make them; to her it was something quite new; they had to
come from outside.  Japan was watching.  She collared the trade, and
in two months she had practically re-hatted China.  But this is
merely an instance; many more might be given to show the rapidity
with which commercial {23} changes come.  In over seven thousand
miles of travel in China, mostly far away inland where the effect of
the treaty port is least felt, the writer some time ago made a study
of the commercial aspect of things and how far the modern spirit had
penetrated the interior, with a view specially to ascertain how the
British merchant stands in the business life of the nation.  This
chapter, therefore, should have especial interest so far as it
embodies correct data, gleaned in two years and a half of travel in
many parts of the Chinese Empire where the traveller is still to the
Chinese a wonder of wonders.  In China, even in far interior places,
one finds life, business, prosperity--a strange commingling of
Western ideas with Eastern.  Four hundred millions of people have to
all intents and purposes become civilised.  They are anxious to swing
into line and want the equipment.  Their needs are making China the
greatest market in the world.  They want everything--railways,
machinery, tools, guns, ships, and much else.  That there is an
unprecedented large trade to be done must at once be granted.  During
the last decade, without thinking for the moment of the Revolution,
China's foreign trade has doubled; in the next decade, if peace
prevails, it must be trebled, and although one cannot ignore the fact
that under ordinary conditions of progress China must ultimately
become a serious rival to Western countries as an industrial nation,
that day is not yet at hand.  She must be a stupendous buyer before
she can hope to become a serious competitor.

But the point need not, I think, be pursued farther.  The country has
merely to regain its normal condition, and we shall see trade
increasing by leaps and bounds.  I say merely to regain its normal
condition for this reason: whilst the prevailing uncertainty
continues no permanent increase of trade can be expected, but let
there be some stable form of government and we shall see China
recuperate and begin trade again in a wonderful manner.  No people
have such recuperative power.  {24} No people have such power of
adaptation.  And in the era of trade development upon whose threshold
we are now standing we may confidently look to probably an uneclipsed
season of foreign commercial enterprise in all parts of China.  In
the increased demand for woollen goods, for engineering equipment of
all kinds, especially mining gear, for railroad supplies, for the
thousands of household requirements of daily use, motor-boats and all
the varied paraphernalia required to place an antiquated nation upon
the footing of modern civilisation there will be a demand such as
will make even Japan's era of commercial progress pale into
insignificance.

The trade will come.  Let so much be granted.  The next point is, Who
is to get it, and how is it to be got?

I am not a manufacturer nor a trader, and cannot go deeply into the
detail of how business should be pushed.  But I have seen a good deal
of China, have closely watched the methods adopted by various
internationals in various parts of the Empire, and it may be that my
remarks on the matter may have the effect of awakening British and
American traders to the realisation of the opportunity now before
them.  Some time ago, when placing manuscript for a prospective work
on China, the publisher said: "What people want to know is how to
increase their trade--they don't want to know about the physical
characteristics of the country and the people so much as how to
increase their trade.  Write a book on how trade can be improved, and
your book will sell."  But it is probable that those who would most
readily buy and read such a book would be the Britisher's competitor.

Now, so far as actual trading advantages are concerned, it may be
said of the British that they hold the highest advantage possible
over other nations; that advantage is in the fact that they hold the
confidence of the people.  No foreigner, be he merchant, {25}
missionary, traveller, or official, is trusted in China as is the
Britisher.  I speak with no intention of hurting the susceptibilities
of any one.  In trade the Chinese believe in the British, they
believe in his goods; in the Revolution the soldiers would
congratulate you most heartily if they knew that you were an
Englishman, telling you that there is none better in the world.  They
might be right or wrong, I am merely writing what they were saying,
and it is a fair ensample of the general opinion of the common
people.  But despite this advantage, it is patent to the thoughtful
student of Chinese affairs that a great need exists among British
merchants as a whole to "wake up."  I am a Britisher, am perhaps
naturally quick to notice where British merchants fail, where they
are outrun in the race for trade in this land of great promise.  I
know there will be many who will at once ask me to turn to the
shipping in Shanghai, in Tientsin, in any of the ports, and notice
the predominance of British shipping.  I shall be told that Great
Britain still controls the bulk of the trade of China, and that there
is no need for fear of the future.  But there is another side to the
story.

Go any day to the Bund at Hankow or Shanghai; watch the progress
being made also by Japan.  Go into the godowns and watch the progress
of the little brown men from the land of the Rising Sun and watch
their methods; run your eye along the offices whose men work hardest
and longest--the Germans; keep yourself informed on the doings of the
day in exports and imports, and you will find that, even if he does
hold the volume of trade he has held for years, the Britisher by no
means advances with new trade as rapidly as his competitors.  In the
past no nation has done so much towards the true development of China
as the British.  The British have laid the foundation, have sown the
seed, and it is only their due that they should reap the harvest now
at hand.  But in the period {26} during which the trade of China has
so phenomenally advanced the cry has gone up from all quarters that
the Britisher is not only losing his grip of the increase of China's
trade in her commercial dawn, but literally giving way to the German,
and that but a few years will be necessary to prove that Great
Britain occupies a position relatively nearer the bottom of the list
of nations who have a commercial finger in the pie.

I am not the first writer who has had a wail to make over the loss of
British trade.  But I do not, at the same time, see any reason why
the British merchant should not easily maintain an indefinite
supremacy of trade in China.  It only needs a little more vim, a
keener outlook, a speedier business adaptation to needs, the
maintenance of commercial wakefulness where business has a tendency
to increase.  Competitors of Great Britain hold no advantages; they
cannot in the long run put better goods upon the market--Japan, the
most serious rival, certainly is producing inferior goods in larger
bulk, and is everywhere overrunning the land with cheap and nasty
goods, but the British-made article will always hold its own side by
side with that of any other nation.  And to the British merchant who
in China, as in most other trading commercial spheres, has almost
always absorbed the external trade, it does not matter much whether
people say he is or is not losing the trade--so long as he is not.
It has always been a case of Britain first and the rest nowhere.  The
Britisher makes a good living, has an established connection, is the
life and soul of the social community, keeps up a fair average of
orders with home firms, and is content.  But no right-thinking
Englishman, no matter how optimistically he may view the general
situation of Great Britain's trade in the Chinese Empire, can deny
that British trade does not expand proportionately with what is to be
done and what others are doing.  This is not pessimistic.  Optimism
is the keynote of the British merchant, and Great Britain's {27}
returns of exports and imports in the China trade are beyond that of
any other nation.  But very powerful rivals--Germany and Japan, more
powerful than British merchants will admit to themselves--are in the
field and fighting in a way that we cannot afford to ignore.

Take Germany first.  German success is undeniable.  It is patent to
all beholders.  German merchants are at every port.  In real interior
China, far away from the beaten tracks, I do not remember ever having
met a single British commercial traveller--Germans I have met often.
They go out into the byways, beating up the trade and creating new
trade, putting themselves to inconvenience and exertion to get
orders, and undergoing in many cases greatest physical strain in
travel to get business.  Once I met a man not far from the border of
British Burma; he had come right across China and had been away from
his business house in Shanghai for several months, and was then going
down to Rangoon and around to Shanghai by sea because it was the
easier and quicker way back.  This is perhaps an isolated case, but
one may judge from it that the German merchants, while doing all they
can as importers of the goods the people want to buy, spread their
representatives far away from the buying centres to show the people
what they can do.  In Tientsin, during the past few years, the German
has become a serious rival.  German trade now at that important
northern port is probably equal to British trade.  In Eastern Siberia
German is the business language, as a matter of fact, but to the
German, unlike the nonchalant Britisher, it does not matter where he
is placed in China, the first thing he does is to get a working
knowledge of the language, a factor of far greater importance in
China than appears on the surface.  The German succeeds, not by
political influence, not by tariffs nor underhand methods, but by
sheer business application, and is building up an extensive scheme,
founded on sound principles, to capture {28} the lion's share of the
growing trade which will go to Europe and to wrest from the Britisher
a large proportion of that which has always been his.  The average
German reads about China--its history, of the physical
characteristics of the country, of the people in the interior and the
life they live, what they have and what they want.  The Englishman
does not trouble.  He rarely learns the language, is careless to find
out anything about the country unless it is to get an idea of sport,
and so on.

The other dangerous rival is the Jap.  If one were to go into detail
and write regarding the Japanese methods of business, it is probable
that much of it would subsequently be suppressed.  The Japanese in
business in China is not the soul of honour.  He has to be watched.
It is not possible here to speak at length on the unprincipled and
shady tactics employed in China--and particularly in the north and in
Manchuria--by Japanese traders.  One and all seem to be alike, all
endowed with that secret and clannish spirit permeating all Eastern
nations, with a big dash of some peculiar virtue of unscrupulousness,
and they have brought themselves into a position of the most favoured
nation in the Chinese Empire.  Japan has determined to get the trade
by any means.  Once in a Chinese city in the interior, where doors
were closed to foreign trade, I saw the largest store on the street
was Japanese.  Business is not done there, they say in self-defence,
but a show is maintained so that goods of the same kind may be
secured from Tokio!  The Jap is in everything, he is everywhere--to
be first he cuts under, for he has little reputation to lose.  Yet he
is as good in his own opinion as the best-bred European, and he lets
you know it.  No man, however, unblinded by prejudice, can study the
progress of Japan in China, can look upon its amazing national
advance with either admiration or respect.  I have met him in the
interior, in Yunnan and Szechuen, prospecting {29} quietly for
minerals, tapping goldfields and iron beds that are lying waste,
seeking out the best centres for the opening up of trade, finding out
what there is a demand for, and marking out the strategic centres
from whence his trade may be handled to the disadvantage of every
one.  The Jap, as I have said, is everywhere, in everything--rarely,
however, to be trusted.

But no matter how many the rivals, I should think that no two nations
have better prospects for the securing of China's new trade than
Great Britain and the United States.  It needs alertness, however.




{30}

CHAPTER III

GENERAL EXPECTATIONS

With the opening of China as a Republic the progress to be made in
education will undoubtedly be stupendous.  Missionaries will probably
find an ever-increasing field.  Missionaries and educationists will
have a freer hand and be everywhere more greatly respected.  They
will play more than ever an increasing part in uplifting the people.
Lord William Gascoign-Cecil has pointed out that if the West is to be
saved she must illuminate China, and he says unless that vast country
has attained the same standard as ourselves we must undergo a process
of degradation.  Our civilisation grew up, like our old towns, under
the shadow of the Church; you will see in any country in Christendom
the village clustering round the church, the town round the
cathedral.  Of late years big factory chimneys have been covered with
the smoke of industry; still, they have left their mark as much on
our civilisation as on our landscapes.  But now a country which knows
nothing of church or cathedral is entering into that civilisation,
and the church and the cathedral become things of archæological
interest and nothing more, unless, indeed, the Church will take the
opportunity and conquer the industrial China that threatens the West.

"I do not mean," said Lord William Cecil, "only by sending out
missionaries, but also by teaching the future rulers of this great
industrial people the truth and value of a Christian civilisation.
The pessimist {31} says this is impossible, and thus sounds the knell
of our social legislation; but the Christian says the world is built
for progress, and the acquisition of China to our civilisation is our
opportunity for making the world a happier place.  If we could at
this moment help the Chinese to value the high principles which
underlie our Western thought, China might be rendered happy by the
brilliant light of a Christian civilisation and the world saved from
a disaster of having labour sink from a Christian to a semi-Oriental
status."

And although the fall of the Manchu dynasty will open the pathway
into real progress in this land, we must agree that there is an
infinite pathos in the Child-Emperor, ignorant, innocent, abdicating
the throne which his forefathers had won, a mere pawn in the game
between Chinese and Manchus.  But pathetic as this incident is, we
must not let its pathos obscure in our minds its more important
aspects; it is not only the abdication of an Emperor we have to
consider, but it is also the destruction of the conventional and
artificial Chinese civilisation before the vigorous civilisation of
the West.  Vast China, with its four hundred millions of industrious
population, with its infinite resources of coal, iron, and other
minerals, with its traditions of Confucianism, Taoism, and Lamaism,
has become part, and a very large part, too, of Western civilisation.

We are indeed, during our generation, watching the making of history
wonderful in its possibilities.  The following quotation from the
writer quoted may be intensely prophetic:--

"We are opening a new volume in the history of the world--a volume in
which strange and terrible things may be written; a volume which, on
the other hand, may contain a brighter story than any of us conceive
to be possible.  How one longs to read that volume as it will be
written by the historian a hundred or two hundred years hence!  Will
it run thus: 'From {32} this time the condition of the working class
of Europe began steadily to deteriorate, and though the short-sighted
statesmen of the twentieth century failed to appreciate it, this was
the inevitable result of adding to the working men of the world a
population remarkable for its industry and so inured to poverty that
its workers gladly submitted to conditions which the Western workmen
naturally and with justice refused'?  Or will it run thus: 'The
decadent Christianity of the West, corrupted by luxury, divided by
sectional strife, received new life under the influence of the more
sincere Chinese Christianity, purified in the harsh school of
persecution and stimulated by the great political upheaval which
caused the deposition of the Manchu Emperor'?"

We cannot take down the volume, we cannot read to the end; we must
wait as year after year the pages are turned over, but we shall do
well to appreciate the importance of this page of contemporary
history.

China now will undergo before our very eyes a social and commercial
and educational transformation, and so speedily will events in the
main transpire that if one is to get the historical march of events
fixed in his mind it is necessary to read at once what has passed.
As soon as any national event passes now it falls speedily back into
history.  We cannot keep pace with all that transpires.  Changes pass
even us who live in China for the most part unnoticed.  The face of
China whilst we look upon it takes on a new appearance.

It is well that we should read of the doings leading up to this great
era of transition.




{33}

CHAPTER IV

LI YUAN HUNG'S AMBITIONS FOR THE NEW CHINA


    "We will have no further Manchu rule.

    "China must be a Republic founded on lines laid down by the
    United States of America.  The United States of China must be
    opened up with all speed, and for this purpose there must be a
    combined effort made with Chinese and foreign capital and Chinese
    and foreign labour.

    "Confucianism will probably become the national religion, but I
    personally favour the doctrine of Christianity being proclaimed
    far and wide in China, and of encouraging missionaries to come in
    greater numbers to our country.

    "I am desirous that the form of government, after the Manchu rule
    is abolished, shall not alter very greatly, so that there shall
    be no disruption of trade and commerce and of diplomatic
    connections of China in the Empire and in foreign countries."


This practically covers the main statement made to myself on Monday,
November 20, 1911, by General Li Yuan Hung, leader of the Revolution
of China.  My privilege of interviewing the General was exclusive.  I
was given a special pass, and was granted the privilege of going
where I liked in Wuchang, the city where the Revolution broke out,
and doing almost as I pleased, being the first to secure exclusive
conversation with his Excellency since the Revolution had begun.

China's Revolution is one of the most thrilling epochs in the world's
history.  Had there been no Li Yuan Hung, whose name to-day, is known
in civilisation everywhere, there would probably have been no
Revolution.  History may prove Li Yuan Hung {34} to be the greatest
reformer China has given to the world.  To his remarkably sound
administration and his clean example to the people he was leading are
due the changes that have so speedily ushered the New China to full
prominence on the political stage of the East and the West.  To rise
from total obscurity in the life of a nation to the highest point of
political fame is rarely given to any man.  To change the whole
tendencies of the national life of a people is rarely given to one
man.  But no one man ever in history was able to mould anew the
social and political outlook of a quarter of the whole human race, as
did Li Yuan Hung when he led the Chinese Revolution.  He proved
himself a man unique in the eyes of the world, the most effective
reformer of his generation of any country.

On the day that I set out to have my talk with Li Yuan Hung, Wuchang,
the capital city, of Hupeh, which had revolted to a man, bore every
evidence of victory; and despite the minor reverses that the
Republican Army had for several days been suffering in their
encounters with the Imperial Army, sent down from Peking under
General Yin Chang to quell the rebellion, I found that in the city
there was infinitely greater hope among the people and infinitely
stronger confidence in their leader than in the early days of the
Revolution.  One felt that he was touching the bedrock of humanity,
had come into grips with a people who with one set purpose were going
forward day by day to accomplish the true work of winning back China
for the Chinese.  As one passed through the streets, around the
forts, in and out among the men who were with their lives prepared to
buy freedom for Manchu-ridden China, one realised that this part of
the Chinese nation, hitherto as silent as some great sleeping
monster, had suddenly found its voice, and had set out determinedly
to tell the world what it meant to do.  Around one was waging civil
war that was to decide the enormous {35} stakes.  There had been many
civil wars in the world before--Wars of the Roses and many others
which had had their historical significance--but as one seemed to
gaze out upon a great country like China and a people who go to make
up one-fourth of the human race, slowly was the fact borne in upon
one's mind that this civil war had a significance that perhaps
belonged to none other.  It seemed like a war of belief against
unbelief.  One felt that he had met men who were concerned only with
the real essence of justice and reform which were to regulate the
deep-reaching interests of four hundred millions of men--one must be
understood as talking about the leaders more particularly.  And this
is the most real thing about this people's Revolution--the making of
order and right government.  General Li Yuan Hung seemed to be a
great national carpenter, taking now the rough trees, shaping them
into purpose and real use.  This was my first impression of the man,
for by his extreme calmness, his practical insight into things--it
was almost impossible to conceive a mere military man capable of such
patience in the midst of extreme mental and physical strain--he was
showing the world that he was a leader born.  General Li was a man of
perhaps forty-eight, at first sight giving the impression that he had
developed as an altogether brave and quiet man.  As I conversed with
him I could not help noticing again and again the decisive, practical
eye of this leader of the people, how he drove immediately towards
the practical, and had a genuine insight into what was fact and right
and truth.  He had an eye to see and a heart to dare.  His nature was
strong rather than intense, with his utterances full of sincerity and
of substance.

[Illustration: THE PROVINCIAL ASSEMBLY HALL, WUCHANG.  Where General
Li had his headquarters until after the fall of Hanyang.]

I went direct to the Assembly Hall, where the guard received me and
where my foreign visiting-card was taken first to the Foreign Office,
while I was marched to a waiting-room.  Around the building there was
a flutter of official life, for from that building the whole {36}
channel of China's history was being changed.  Here there were no
tremulous, hesitating, half-hearted men; all was life.  Each man,
from the usual underlings who hung about the doorways to the lowest
soldier on guard, from the lowest clerk on the General staff to the
General himself--all men went about their business with a fixity of
purpose that was new to China.  There was no disorganisation.  All
was quiet and smoothly running.  The new Republican flag from many
towers waved triumphantly in the morning wind.  On the drill-ground
outside one could hear the blowing of bugles and the clatter of arms
as the regiments were being drilled.  Away down in the town, on one,
two, a dozen, twenty pieces of open ground recruits were being licked
into shape.  Over on the hills could be heard the blast of cannon and
field-pieces from all directions.  The slight whistle of a shell
dropping through the air told one that bombarding from both sides was
going on apace.  But in the General's hall no evidence other than the
running hither and thither of dispatch-runners could be seen that war
was waging all around one.  No one could listen to General Li Yuan
Hung without developing a great trust in the man.  Sometimes his face
lit up with radiance bred only of devout determination, and he had
all along succeeded in infusing that spirit into all the people of
the city in which he had been so long an ordinary military officer.
My reader should not, however, understand me to mean, in my
description of the scene where the Revolution broke out, that a China
freed from all corruption and all the usual Chinese incongruities and
official twistings had suddenly come into being.  Any one who has
followed my writings on China generally would, were this the case,
accuse me of the greatest inconsistency.  But during those early days
of the Revolution we certainly saw a Chinese official life we had
never seen before.  Li's court was at that time the cleanest and the
most hard-working and practical that had been {37} seen at any time
in China's history.  That it was not perfect all those who looked on
were quite aware, but it was vastly ahead of the general run of
Chinese civic life.

Soon there came to the waiting-room a smart young officer, wearing
foreign spectacles, in a uniform that had a peculiar mingling of
foreign military and civic dress.  He saluted, then bade me follow
him.  His business was to show me to the Foreign Office.  Here I
decided to make an instant objection, being content with nothing less
than an interview with Li Yuan Hung.  So that when, having arrived
inside a large room at the end of the veranda of the second story of
the rectangular building, a rather stout Chinese gentleman in
military undress accosted me, I explained that I had already made
arrangements for an interview with General Li, that I would be
obliged if the proper wheels of office could be set in motion to
allow me to see him, and that as soon as possible.  Just at this
point the Chinese in military undress smiled, and quietly said, "Yes,
I am General Li."

Addressing me in English, the General, with gentle Chinese suavity,
told me that his time was at my disposal; that with only an imperfect
hold upon my honourable language he would probably find some
difficulty in telling me accurately what was in his mind, but that
whatever question I put to him he would do his best to answer.  Li
Yuan Hung was a handsome Chinese gentleman--about five feet three or
four, queueless, with close-cropped, bristly black hair, eyes
somewhat close set, which at times shone with extraordinary fire, and
a chin that immediately gave evidence of an infinite determination;
were it not for his military bearing, he might readily have been
taken for a prosperous Chinese merchant.  He was keen, a leader of
men who did not hesitate a moment.  So utterly unlike the ordinary
Chinese official, who leaves the vital points of an interview until
he rises to take his {38} leave, General Li, with eyes beaming, and
slightly raising his hand in his enthusiasm, exclaimed: "Yes, now we
have thirteen out of the eighteen provinces, and our Republican party
is formidable.[1]  We have gathered under our new flag many more
provinces in a much shorter time than we had hoped for, an evidence
that China was waiting for the step to be taken to overthrow the
Manchus."

"Why, General Li, did the Revolution break out?  Can you tell me
briefly the specific reason you assign for the outbreak to have taken
place so suddenly?"

He smiled slightly as he looked me straightforwardly in the eyes.
"Well, throughout our Empire there had been for years the feeling
that the Manchus would never give us Chinese any justice.  They were
pressing us down, and although the Revolution took place sooner than
anticipated, all Chinese knew that it was coming sooner or later.  I
personally had formulated no great scheme to take the lead.  As a
matter of fact, although I knew all that was going on in the Hupeh
Model Army, I had no intention of taking the lead, nor of occupying
the position in which you find me to-day.  The time planned for the
Revolution would probably have been later.  China was waiting for the
man to rise up who would strike.  None of the leaders of the
Revolution--of our new Republic--were anxious that there should be
great slaughter--the only wish was that the Manchu rule should be
abolished for ever.  And since I have been the leader of the Republic
I have done my best that as little loss of life as possible might be
incurred."

"Are you quite sure that the Revolution will be permanently
successful, that all China will become loyal to the Republican flag?"

"Loyal!" exclaimed Li, with the joviality of a boy, {39} then his
face was closer knit again.  "There is no doubt whatever.  We have
thirteen provinces, with the armies of all those provinces; we have
the Chinese Navy, part at Hankow, part at Nanking,[2] sent there to
aid in the attack, and part at Shanghai.  We control the Yangtsze."
But the General dismissed the question of loyalty to the Republic as
not being worthy of notice, adding that it was merely a matter of
time for China to be knit together with a great overpoweringly strong
patriotism which would have no equal in the Eastern or Western world.
Then he continued: "My personal desire would be to see every province
a free province, with its own Assembly, but controlled by one great
national governmental body.  We shall take our pattern from the
United States of America, having a President to control our
provincial assemblies--just like America," he added curtly.

"How often would you elect a President?  In China, unopened as it is,
with no communication, do you not think it would be more difficult to
organise elections and matters of a national character than it is in
the States?" I asked.

"Every four, five, six, or even ten years.  Our President, if we got
the right man, might be in office for ten years for that matter.  At
all events, this is my personal opinion, but this, with many other
matters, would come up for decision at the first assembly, and it is
my desire not unduly to influence that body."

"Who do you think you would ask to become the President--Yuan Shih
K'ai perhaps?" I asked.

"Ah, no," came the quick rejoinder.  For some considerable time Li
Yuan Hung had been endeavouring to persuade Yuan Shih K'ai to come
over to the Revolutionary party and assume control of the formation
of {40} the Republic; but his efforts had met only with a stubborn
refusal by Yuan.  "We must push out the Manchus.  Yuan Shih K'ai will
not, I believe, become our President."

His Excellency stopped talking at this point, and I waited in vain to
hear more about Yuan.  After a moment I suggested: "But Yuan Shih
K'ai is one of your great friends, is he not?"

"No, I do not call Yuan Shih K'ai a friend.  He is known to me
personally, but I do not know much about him or of the ambition he
now has with China.  You see, he will not listen to me."

"True, but the foreign newspapers are saying that Yuan Shih K'ai,
because he is your personal friend, will become the first President."

"Are they?  I did not know.  Well, perhaps Yuan Shih K'ai would rise
very high in the Republican party, but he has shown his determination
merely to sit on the fence waiting for the result."  And General Li
held up his hands and rocked to and fro in his chair to make his
meaning clear.

"Who are your political associates at this time?"

His Excellency, at first not seeming to understand my meaning, said
that he had none, but afterwards told me that his _great_ friend was
Admiral Sah.  The subsequent references which he made to the Admiral
were touching.  "He is my _teacher_!" he affectionately exclaimed.
"He is now gone to Shanghai, but after the fighting is over he will
come to advise the Republic on naval matters.  Admiral Sah is a good
man, his heart is very warm."  In further conversation General Li
declared that they had now the strongest men in the country, and the
men who had not turned were hardly worth the having.  He paid
eulogistic references to the statesmanship of Wu Ting Fang, several
of the Ministers of the old Government, whom he hoped to retain in
office, and to Sun Yat Sen especially.

Continuing, the General said his idea was that China's {41} foreign
representatives should be retained, and that in no way was he
desirous of altering the representation anywhere, in China or out of
it, if officials were willing to serve--granted, of course, that
their retention in office gave satisfaction and they were returned by
public vote.  "We wish to retain all who will work conscientiously
for China's welfare, so that there shall be no disruption of trade
and commerce or of China's diplomatic connections all over the world.
Roughly, the scheme that I should favour would be:--

"1. Expulsion of the Manchus outside the Great Wall to Mongolia
(excepting those who are willing to join the Republican party).

"2. Establishment of a Republic on lines after the style of America,
with exclusive government for each State and one great National
Assembly.

"With these points decided, we shall be able to call together all
popular reformers from all the provinces and form our Government.
But this will be the time that I shall resign."

At this juncture of the conversation the General looked wistfully out
of the window, speaking almost to himself.  By then, he said, he
should have accomplished his part for the winning of China back into
the hands of her own people, and he should throw the cloak of control
on to other shoulders.  His quiet, unostentatious manner as he
proceeded humbly to compare his own powers with other men in China
showed a spirit of true greatness.  Here was the hero of China, the
man above all men who had guided her public life into safe channels
and upon whom the eyes of the diplomatic, social, and political world
were riveted--and he was talking of giving way to better men.
Presently, as if coming out of a reverie, he turned towards me again,
smiling heartily, as I suggested that that would probably not be
allowed.  But he was determined.

"No, there can be no place for me; I am a military {42} man, but
China has many better administrators.  We have plenty of men."  And
then he added, as an afterthought, "Of course, if they want me, they
can always have me."  And he smacked the table as if he had joked
unconsciously.

And although I tried to impress upon his Excellency the fact that had
there been no General Li there would probably have been no such
success as was attending the Revolution, he would have none of it.
He preferred to wander on in confidential tones, telling me that his
personal wishes were not to be taken into account at all.  What he
personally was anxious to do was to control the initial stages of
winning over the country; then his part was the planning of the
defences and the organisation of the military; after that whatever
the new Government wished him to do he would endeavour faithfully to
carry out, not for his own sake but for the sake of the country of
which he was proud and which he loved.

He did not seem inclined to enter into conversation much about the
monarchical style of government which many declare more favourable to
China as a country which had always looked to one head, the Emperor,
as the Son of Heaven.  Referring to England and comparing that
country with the United States, Li Yuan Hung said that the style of
the Monarchical Government of England was best for her people, but he
did not believe it to be the best for the Chinese; and now that China
was breaking away from all old systems and customs he thought the
Republican control better suited to China's needs.  In the course of
conversation I attempted to raise several questions which would
probably go against the establishing of a Republic when the Senate
met, but General Li did not pursue the conversation, and seemed
disinclined to talk until I mentioned the religion of the country,
quoting the annual Sacrifice at the Temple of Heaven--how would that
be carried out?  Then again his eyes shone.  He came {43} closer to
me, raised his hand a little as if to convince me in what he was
going to say, and spoke slowly:--

"All sacrifices will probably be stopped, but the religion of the
people will be Confucianism."

"But Confucianism is not a religion.  Do you not think, General Li,
that Christianity will become more popular among the people as the
country is opened up more?"

"Oh, yes, missionaries are our friends.  Jesus is better than
Confucius, and I am strongly in favour of more missionaries coming to
China to teach Christianity and going to interior provinces.  We
shall do all we can to assist missionaries, and the more missionaries
we get to come to China the greater will the Republican Government be
pleased."

The General then went on in very simple language to say that he was
personally very pleased with all the labours of the missionaries, and
that China would not be to-day were it not for the missionaries, who
had gone into out-of-the-way places and opened up the country.

"But as a matter of fact we feel that we want as many foreigners to
come to China as possible.  The opening up of the country can only
properly be accomplished by the united efforts of Chinese and
foreigners, and in this new Republic we realise that it is only by
mingling more freely with the other nations of the world that China
will have her resources developed.  Of our military and navy, our
defences, our schools and colleges I have no fear, but one of the
most important items in our Republican programme is that which will
enable us to develop our wealth."

"Well, will you be in favour of granting concessions to foreign
syndicates for the development of mines and so on?"

"I do not think so.  It is impossible for me to say what will be
done, but my personal wish would be freely to combine foreign capital
with Chinese capital {44} and labour."  But the General, at this
moment turning abruptly towards a staff officer who brought him a
dispatch from the battlefield, announced, "But we shall have foreign
advisers, and all such matters as this would be decided later."  And
he added forcefully, "We must consolidate the whole of China--that is
the main thing."

"You spoke of foreign loans just now.  There will be need for foreign
loans now more than ever?"

"Yes, we shall need more foreign money and more foreigners in the
employ of our Republican Government; but my party is convinced that
there will be no difficulty in getting all the assistance, financial
and otherwise, from the Powers.  Already America has telegraphed her
good wishes, and the time will come when the two greatest republics
in the world will be on the most friendly footing--probably China
will drift more towards America and learn more from her than from any
other country."

"As regards business, do you think that Hankow will benefit in trade
from the Revolution?"

The General pondered for a moment, thoughtfully putting his thumb and
finger to his chin.  He hesitated briefly, then declared straight out
that he thought Hankow would become, perhaps, the biggest city in
Asia.

In concluding our conversation, Li Yuan Hung told me that he had been
to Japan for one year only, that he had five children (two boys and
three girls), that he was a native of Hwangpi in Hupeh, and that when
his children were old enough he would send them away for their
education.

"Where to?"

"To America," came the reply, and a happy smile with it.  After
wishing me goodbye, General Li, still holding my hand, said:--

"One word more before you go."  He placed his left hand on my
shoulder, bent his body slightly towards {45} me.  "Please do not
forget to say that this Revolution took place because the Manchus
were so unfair to the Chinese--for no other reason."

He then bade me farewell, and I departed.

* * * * *

This interview is given _in extenso_ because of its vital bearing
upon the general attitude of the Republican party at the present
moment.  Events have transpired slightly to throw some of Li Yuan
Hung's ambitions to the ground, but the views he held may be taken as
the general aims of the party that is headed by Sun Yat Sen to-day.
As my manuscript goes forward to the publishers it is a matter of
impossibility accurately to predict what the outcome of China's
Revolution will be.  It may be a Republic; it may be a Monarchy.  Be
the form of government what it may, however, there will remain in the
eyes of every patriotic Chinese but one General Li, and his views on
the political situation and the needs of his great country, at the
time when her national pendulum tremulously ticked out issues of the
highest import, will have a permanent interest for all students of
affairs in China.[3]


{46}

[1] This was only a month after the Revolution had broken out.  The
reader will learn later on in this volume of the changes following
along in the ensuing months.

[2] Nanking, the city now planned by the Republican party as the
capital, after a most stubborn resistance, fell to the Revolutionary
Army a fortnight afterwards.

[3] Li Yuan Hung at the time of the Revolution was forty-eight years
old.  His birthplace was a village in the north of Huangpi, not many
miles from the scenes that made him famous.  "Li Yuan Hung" was his
official name; his friends were permitted to address him as "Li Sung
Ching."  His father was a soldier before him--Colonel Li Tsao Hsiang.
In the year 1882, at the age of eighteen, Li the younger passed the
entrance examination of the Tientsin Naval College, and after a
course of six years he graduated.  Soon after the war with Japan he
was engaged by Chang Chih Tung, then Viceroy of Nanking, to fortify
that city with modern guns, and was also made commander of an
important pass near Nanking.  In the year 1894 he followed Chang Chih
Tung to Hupeh, and was commissioned to train the new army with the
aid of a German instructor for three years.  He was then sent to
Japan to gain experience in defence work.  After two years he
returned to Wuchang, and was appointed Major of a Cavalry Brigade.
In 1902 he was in command of the Kiangyin Navy and Army manoeuvres.
Next year he took command of the Infantry Fourth Advance Guard.  Two
years later he became commander of the Second Division.  As soon as
the new army was organised he was promoted to be Colonel of the 21st
Mixed Brigade, superintending the naval forces in the Yangtze Valley,
the Military Academy and four departments of the Hanyang Arsenal, and
the Army College.  In the same year (1905) he was elected Provisional
Commander of the Changte manoeuvres.  He led his Mixed Brigade in the
year 1911 to join the Autumn Manoeuvres at Taihu.  On October 10,
1911, General Li joined the Revolution, as will be seen hereafter,
and was elected Military Governor of Hupeh.




{47}

CHAPTER V

A PREMATURE OPENING

On October 10, 1911, an ordinary military officer in the Hupeh Army
of China stood unflinchingly facing a band of Revolutionists in
Wuchang.  One was Liu King, a student not long back from Japan--a
mere slip of a boy.  He was now practically in charge of the
Revolution of China, now prematurely, quite haphazardly, broken out,
and he sat looking suspiciously at the military man before him.  The
military man was a colonel.  Above his neck glistened half a dozen
narrow swords held by dark-clad men who awaited instructions to send
into eternity the man whom Fate intervened to make the most noted man
in the world-history of our day.

That Colonel was Li Yuan Hung, whose fame within a month reached to
the uttermost ends of the earth.

The Revolution, long planned and still maturing, had prematurely
broken out.  Li Yuan Hung had been chosen as the leader, and now
stood offering his apologies to the men who pressed him into office.
He was not anxious, he was explaining, to take the honour--of course
he was not, for who knew that that small military revolt at Wuchang
was to move the whole of the eighteen provinces of China?  Li thought
it was not worth while.  His fate would be sealed at once, for the
Model Army of China merely cut the heads off of any in its ranks who
rebelled against military discipline.  So he demurred that the honour
was too great for him--he would rather that another, more able and
{48} experienced, should be invited to the leadership.  More heavily
those cold swords were pressed against his neck.  Then it seemed as
if another minute would find his head rolling to the floor.  But he
was given another chance.  He was told in stern tones that he was the
leader of the Revolution, that he must agree or else he would be
decapitated immediately.  But the Colonel still stolidly refused.
Before the order was finally given to strike with those glistening
swords the man was given one more chance.  He agreed.  The swords
were raised, and at that moment the curtain rose and showed China in
revolt to the world.  Li Yuan Hung's behaviour after that fateful
night when he stood so near his grave showed the wisdom of the choice
of the man of all men who in this land of the passing Celestial did
more to free China from the fetters of the past than any other man
dead or living.

[Illustration: A CAPTURED BOMB-MAKER.  One of those responsible for
the premature outbreak of the Revolution.]

It was not until long after the month of October, however, that men
were able accurately to ascertain how the Revolution broke.
Newspaper men with special passes, and on the scent for news, each
buttonholed their man, hoping to get the story of why the revolt
occurred so long before the appointed time.  Every intelligent
onlooker saw that sooner or later a great upheaval would come to
China--some even got to know that it could not take a very great time
before the extensive plans were fully matured--and then the blow
would be struck, and China, tottering against forces far too strong
for her, would be shaken to her very vitals.  But when the signal for
the military to rise was actually given, and when the whole of
Hupeh's Army did rise, almost as one man, the newspaper men and those
who thought they had been watching closely were lifted off their
feet.  And then there started throughout the world a long string of
newspaper hazards as to who was responsible and how the thing had
been done.  But the story did not leak through.  The most careful
guesswork failed to get anywhere near the truth, {49} for the
correspondents of American and European newspapers had not been
behind the scenes, and knew little of what was passing in the early
days of October, They knew nothing of the little affair that had
happened in the Russian Concession of Hankow.  Europeans in Hankow,
as a matter of fact, knew nothing about the affair until the
newspapers wrote up a short story of it, and on the morning it
appeared no one seemed to attach any great importance to what they
read.  They did not realise that what the Revolutionary party of
China had been planning had prematurely fused, and that now there was
nothing to do but for the leaders of the movement to take the
plunge--hit or miss, as might be.  The short newspaper report read as
follows, and was printed modestly alongside other general matter:--

"The detonation of a bomb on the Russian Concession yesterday
afternoon was responsible for the discovery of a revolutionary
element, the existence of which had hitherto not been suspected.  At
4 p.m. the police in the neighbourhood of the Russian Municipal
Building were startled by a loud report which, it was apparent,
emanated from the native houses at the back of the German butchery.
A rush was made to the neighbourhood, and in the compound of No. 14
two Chinese were discovered throwing kerosene around, apparently just
preparing to set fire to the establishment.  These were put quickly
under restraint, and a survey of the premises revealed the fact that
all the elements of a nice little revolutionary club were present.
Bombs already made, acids for their making, revolutionary pamphlets,
and a list of names which bore a strong resemblance to the members'
roll, gave testimony to the use to which the houses and the compound
had been put.  It is surmised that the bomb went off accidentally,
and the inmates, fearing a visit by the police, attempted to set
their place on fire.  That their attempts were frustrated is due to
the promptitude of the police, {50} who, in addition to the two
arrests already mentioned, tried to arrest four men who approached
the place in a suspicious manner soon after the explosion; these,
however, made their escape.  At the Russian police-station, where at
a late hour last evening[1] a representative of the _Hankow Dally
News_ was making inquiries, two Chinese, a man and a woman, were
being examined, they having attempted to gain ingress to a suspected
house.  Like the two men arrested, they, were turned over to the Hsia
Kao Ting,[2] whose representative had been quickly called to the
spot.  The Viceroy had already sent a deputy, a naval officer, from
Wuchang, and together with the local officials he was busy attempting
to unravel the mysteries connected with the revolutionary quarters.
Among the articles seized by the police were revolutionary flags, as
well as maps of Wuchang and plans apportioning various bodies of
revolutionists to their positions for attack on the Wuchang gates.
At a late hour last night everything in the neighbourhood of the
scene was quiet, and not a soul was in sight except the Russian
police, who are to be heartily congratulated on their discovery and
the efficient manner in which they handled the situation."

Now, the man whose carelessness in making the bomb caused the
premature explosion in the Russian Concession and forced the
Revolutionary party to make their coup before they were ready was one
Sun Wu, an expert bomb-maker.  He bears the marks of the explosion to
this day.  Sun Wu was taken away immediately by his friends and
concealed until he was well enough to join his comrades.  One of his
comrades was the aforementioned Liu King, who later became
Inspector-General of the Republican Government of Hupeh.  Liu King's
wife was the woman who had undertaken to throw the bomb with which
the Revolution was to be started.  The story is a most fascinating
{51} one, and nothing better can be done at the moment than to
reproduce the story as told to a newspaper man long after the great
war had seemed to be fairly well settled in favour of the
Republicans.  Liu's personal appearance proclaims him an extremist,
said the report.  He is a young man, about thirty, with unusual
eagerness in his eyes, wears foreign civilian clothes and gold-rimmed
spectacles, has a moustache but, of course, no queue.  He comes from
a family of scholars among the gentry of Siangyang, in North Hupeh.
If he had not gone to Japan, he would probably have been a scholar of
the old Chinese type and an official, also of the old type, with a
boughten office.  In fact, it was whispered that many thousands of
taels which he used in the Revolutionary cause were given him by
relatives in the expectation that he would buy a taotaiship
(magistracy).

In Japan Liu went through both the law course and the military.  It
is ten years since he first took up revolutionary work.  But he did
not claim to have done anything very effective till he met Dr. Sun
Yat Sen.  Here is the story just about as he told it in Chinese:--[3]

"It was about six years ago that Sun Yat Sen came to Japan.  I was
studying at the time in the Tungwen College.  All the Chinese
students welcomed Sun with the utmost enthusiasm.  He organised among
us a Society called the 'Tung Ming Hwei,' of which I was a member.
The aim of this Society was to move the people of China to realise
the shame of being ruled by aliens, and to stir them up to win their
freedom.  We published a weekly magazine, the _People_, in which we
showed how corrupt, tyrannical, and impotent was the Manchu
Government, giving instances of the inhumanity and injustice with
which the Manchus had treated our people in the past.  We urged
reasons why the Chinese people should take revenge on behalf {52} of
their ancestors, thus proving their filial piety.  We urged that the
Chinese should strive to make themselves the equals of other peoples,
who looked down upon them simply because they were enslaved by the
Manchus.  The _People_ became very influential, and nearly all its
readers in China and abroad realised that they were slaves, and
wanted to free themselves.  But the paper did not live long.  The
Manchu Government complained to the Japanese against its publication,
and Japan, wishing to strengthen her friendship with the Chinese
Government, suppressed it.  We then organised another department,
called the _Kung Ching_ (meaning 'Advance together').  The duty of
this department was to send agents to the various provinces to
inspire the soldiers and scholars with revolutionary spirit and
patriotism, and others to Chinese settlements abroad to raise funds.
I was twice elected president of this department while I was studying
at the Tungping Military College.

"The Revolutionary agents had friends among the military officers
throughout China, so that it was easy for them to get into touch with
the soldiers.  Even if the officers refused to help, they were so
friendly with the agents that they would not betray them.  So it was
very seldom that viceroys or governors were successful in arresting
Revolutionists.

"After graduating from the military college and the law college I
returned to Hupeh in the sixth moon (July), 1910.  I came to Wuchang
and found that all the Revolutionary agents had taken flight, owing
to the strict search made for them by Viceroy Jui Cheng.  I was
greatly disappointed.  A little later I became sick, and went to my
home in Siangyang.  The illness was a long one; I was not able to
leave my bed till the third moon (May, 1911).  I came here but found
I was too weak for work, so I returned home for two months.  In the
fifth moon I came back here, bringing ten thousand taels given me by
my family.  I took {53} a house beside the middle school in Wuchang.
We took care to keep everything very secret.  We had various retreats
in Wuchang and Hankow, and our headquarters was in the camp of the
sappers and miners' corps.

"Sun Wu had been working among the soldiers, and we knew that we
could rely on the sappers and miners and the artillerymen.  For some
time the soldiers were timid, and, though they were eager to revolt
against the Manchus, they were unwilling to give a definite promise
to join the Revolution at a fixed time.  We held secret meetings, and
at last we found that the only way to induce some of them was to
threaten that they would be blown up with bombs if they did not join.

"We had planned to begin the Revolution in December--simultaneously
in eight provinces.  We had drawn up lists showing the amount of the
funds in the provincial treasuries, so that we knew the amount we
should probably have to begin operations with.  My wife, who is a
zealous Revolutionist and who recently went to Shanghai to organise a
corps of women soldiers, had undertaken to disguise herself as a poor
pedlar-woman in order that she might throw a bomb at the Viceroy.
That was to be the beginning of the Revolution.  Sun Wu and myself
were experts in the manufacture of bombs.  On the night of October
9th Sun was making a bomb when, by some carelessness, he allowed it
to explode.  This betrayed our plot before we were ready.  That was
at the Russian Concession in Hankow.  Russian policemen came to our
place and seized our plant, together with proclamations we had
prepared, dispatches to the foreign consulates, private letters, a
list of the revolutionists, and a large number of badges.  These
badges had a design like that now used on the Republican military
flag."

[Illustration: A QUEUELESS BRIGADE.  A great feature of the
Revolution was the discarding of the pigtail.  Barbers were kept busy
for many days shearing the revolutionaries.]

Most of the story of that night and the following day is already
known to the world.  Sun Wu's face was badly wounded in the
explosion, and he was concealed {54} by friends, who saw to it that
he got proper treatment until he had recovered sufficiently to rejoin
his comrades.  Liu King's family was then living in the native city
at Hankow.  He had long been suspected, and when the news of the
explosion was received his wife and brother were arrested.  He had
himself escaped from the house in the Russian Concession.  Several
arrests followed during the night, and the following morning four men
were executed.  Liu's brother was not among them, for the reason that
the Viceroy was having him tortured to induce him to reveal Liu's
hiding-place.  Two of the leading agents of the Revolution, Liu
Yao-chen and Run Chung-yung, were among those arrested on the 10th.
Liu King had tried to start the Revolution at midnight on the 9th,
but had failed.

"I saw we should all be ruined if we did not begin at once," said
Liu, "but the soldiers had no badge, so they did not revolt.  The
next morning (October 10th) I wrote to them that if the Viceroy found
the list of their names contained among our papers he would certainly
disarm and execute them all.  They replied that they were not afraid,
and it was only because they had no badges that they had failed to
begin the Revolution.  I then gave instructions that any white band
round the arm should be used as a badge, and that the Revolution
should begin at ten o'clock that night--the time fixed by the Viceroy
for the execution of my brother.

"The sappers and miners did not wait for the appointed time but began
their work at half-past seven.  They sent men at once to watch all
the gates.  The artillerymen, camped outside the city, heard the
firing and realised what had happened.  They entered the city and
occupied the Choawangtai (where the magazine was), the Hwanghwalo
(the promontory overlooking the river), and the Serpent Hill.  They
intended to shell the Viceroy's yamen, but soldiers went to the yamen
and found that the Viceroy had escaped through {55} a hole dug in a
back wall.  As all the gates were held by Revolutionists, he must
have got over the wall by a rope.

"The sappers and miners went to the camps of the other corps and told
the men they must join the mutiny or fight.  Practically all joined,
with the exception of part of the Commissariat Corps and about 250
soldiers, who fled with Chang Piao.[4]

"I had come to Wuchang from Hankow, and we called a meeting at the
magazine.  The Revolutionary agents decided not to elect one of their
own number as commander."

Then followed in the interview a short description of the manner in
which Li Yuan Hung had been raised to the position of Leader of the
Revolution of China.

* * * * *

The following leader, printed in the London _Times_ as soon as the
Revolution broke, shows how great a surprise was given to the world.
It also shows how utterly unprepared China herself seemed in the eyes
of the world to be for the change that so suddenly shook the
fundamentals of her Government:--'

"A rising, which is manifestly very serious," said the _Times_
editorial, "has taken place at Wuchang, the great city in the
province of Hupeh which seemed destined to become the centre of the
Chinese railway system and of the internal trade of the Empire.  How
serious it may prove to be and how serious the movement from which it
springs are matters on which Europeans have but few materials for
judgment.  We have not sufficient information to show whether the
present insurrection is connected with the disturbances in Szechwan
which looked threatening enough a month ago.  If they are their
significance, it need hardly be {56} said, would be materially
increased, but even if they are both altogether local they are
symptomatic of the general instability of the actual situation.  Two
years hence a full Parliament of the Empire is to be convoked, and a
Ministry responsible to it is to be appointed--so at least the
Imperial Edict of last November has promised.  The results of so
tremendous an innovation cannot be looked forward to without
misgivings.  Is China, the oldest, and to all outward seeming one of
the most effete, of Oriental monarchies, fit for so vast a change?
The reception of the Edict of last year does not argue well for the
future.  The National Assembly, which had unanimously demanded this
very reform, denounced it as too tardy the moment it was granted.
Yet surely three years was not too long a time for China to prepare
herself for constitutional government.  There is much that is
admirable in the Young China party.  They realise the absolute
necessity of reform, and many of them desire it out of genuine
patriotism.  But hitherto they have shown no sense of prospective, no
powers of leadership, and no gift of construction.  Last year one of
their number, himself a subordinate official, who would certainly
lose by a change, blurted out to a European in a moment of confidence
that in his opinion nothing could save the country but a bloody
revolution, making a clean sweep of everything.  That was in the city
of Wuchang.  Is the present insurrection an attempt to save China in
this way, and if it is, what popular force is behind it, or will
gather behind it, unless it is immediately quelled?  A good deal for
us and for all European Powers with interests in the Far East depends
on the answer."


[1] October 10, 1911.

[2] A small magistrate.

[3] See _Central China Post_, January 15, 1912.

[4] Chang Piao was the General in command of the Hupeh Army, who took
the field in the first engagement of the war, and who was interviewed
by the author, as printed on page 61.




{57}

CHAPTER VI

THE EARLY HOSTILITIES

Thus did China's Revolution start.  Event followed event during the
first days with such startling rapidity that it became a matter of
difficulty to keep trace consecutively of events.  On October 13th
the Hanyang Arsenal, the largest in the Empire, passed into the hands
of the Revolutionists.  A large body of soldiers indistinguishable
from loyal troops arrived in several units from Wuchang.  They
entered the Hanyang city quietly and, donning the Revolutionary
badge, proceeded with their work.  The powder factory was seized at 1
a.m. and the arsenal fell soon after, only a few shots being fired.
In the arsenal were found no fewer than 140 three-inch guns, about
500,000 rounds of ammunition, and powder sufficient for the
manufacture of 2,000,000 rounds.  This amount, together with
32,000,000 rounds of rifle ammunition and 5,000 rounds of field-gun
ammunition, which were known to be stored near Wuchang, gave the
rebels enough to carry on with for some time.  Hankow native city
soon afterwards fell, and with its fall the Revolutionists found
themselves in possession of three of the finest strategical points in
the whole of China.

Meantime nothing had been heard of the foreigners in Wuchang, and as
the gates were closed and huge conflagrations were seen during the
next couple of days it was thought that the affair might develop into
an anti-foreign rising.  Crowds gathered on the Bund and gazed
anxiously through field-glasses over the river for {58} signs of the
foreigners, but it was not until October 12th that a steam-launch,
conveying Captain Knepper, of the U.S.A. _Helena_, some foreigners
and American blue-jackets, and flying the American flag, left in the
early morning for Wuchang.  In the afternoon the naval officers were
cheered as they steamed alongside the Bund at Hankow, with
practically all the foreigners and about 150 Christian girls from the
various schools.

For the next few days there was the greatest activity on both
sides--among the Revolutionists and the Loyalists.  With wildest
enthusiasm the Revolutionists prosecuted their aims in Wuchang, in
Hanyang, and in Hankow.  The Government banks were ransacked of all
silver and burned to the ground, all Government offices were looted,
Revolutionary troops were stationed in the three cities, and for some
days there was no doubt about the sovereignty of the rebels in this
neighbourhood.  The two armies touched for the first time on October
19th, but even this was a one-sided affair, because General Chang
Piao, the head of the Hupeh army, had but a handful of men, and stood
from the first no chance whatever against the overwhelming numbers of
the enemy.  Foreigners were able only to see in this a local revolt,
but it very soon became apparent that the Revolution had taken hold
of China and that the rebelling forces of Hupeh were soon to gather
many other provinces under their banner.  Such unity was never seen
in China before as the first days of the revolt brought to light.

Then the war began.

After this first slight engagement there was a rare ado with the
Revolutionary army and supporters as the victorious regiments marched
into the city, and this victory over Chang Piao and his men, apart
from having the effect of completely routing the enemy, added a
tremendous stimulus to the fighting line of the Republicans, and they
were then itching for another scrap.  {59} The Loyalists had come
down from Peking.  They were expected to turn over to the
Revolutionists.  But they did not--they intended to fight, and to
fight hard.  In the first engagement, however, after having had taken
from them their bullion with which the troops were to be paid, their
rice and supplies by which the men were to be fed, the ammunition by
which the throne was to be kept secure, and much else in the way of
impedimenta of warfare, they retired crestfallen and moved some
considerable distance down the river.

[Illustration: TYPICAL REVOLUTIONARIES.  Changed by love of country
and passion for freedom from downtrodden coolies to enthusiastic
soldiers.]

Before dawn on the morning of October 20th I took my launch down
towards Kilometre Ten, the Revolutionary base, where the Loyalists
were said to have crept up during the night.  It looked as if they
had regained courage, and were to put up another fight.  I found a
party of Revolutionary recruits and regulars, all having a good time,
whilst lessons were being given to the raw material in the art of
using the rifle.  The target was a couple of pigs, and into the hides
of these two innocent porkers the recruits were endeavouring to
discharge their bullets.  Passing them, I followed on through a road
which at one time had been the main entrance to the station, all
being now in anything but perfect order, into the station, where some
fifteen hundred troops were assembled on the platform and in the
adjoining ground--the scene of the recent battle.

To my companion (representing the _New York Herald)_ and myself the
Revolutionists were most courteous.  Whilst we preferred to stand,
they bade us to be seated, a couple leading us to a point on the
platform where was seated the Commander-in-Chief of the Field Forces,
a portly fellow, full and hearty, typically Chinese, delighted to see
us.  Down below were the field-guns and the dark-clad troops,
battered railway trucks, officers' horses grazing by the line, men
rushing hither and thither, all enthusiastic upon getting {60}
something done and wasting no time.  But here was the
Commander-in-Chief--the Buller of the campaign--calm, quiet,
courteous, extending to me with the simplicity of a boy the usual
Chinese felicities.  He was seated in his official war-chair, had
upon him all the paraphernalia of war, and waited as he talked with
me for his scouts to return before he could make up his mind what the
day's programme was to be.

Allow us to take his photograph?--certainly he would, and stood up
and put on a straight face purposely for the occasion, waving back a
scout who hurriedly came in whilst I snapped a picture.  Then he
attended to the scouting parties, taking careful notes of all that
they told him.  I wished to exchange cards--delighted, he would do it
in a moment, and wrote his full name on the back.  He laughed over
the simplest incident, was exceedingly solicitous on my behalf,
assured me that they would win; when he spoke of battle his face
hardened, his keen eyes sparkled, full of fire.  His aide-de-camp,
quite a youngster, dressed in a foreign tweed suit--queueless, of
course--and bearing no traces whatever that he was an army official,
gave us all the news he could.  He waved his hands to the captured
railroad trucks, containing the captured supplies, and asked us
blandly if we could solve the problem of living without food--because
he couldn't, and he didn't suppose that the Loyalists could.  "And
they won't," he vociferated.  But that was in the early days of the
war.  During those days it was interesting to any fair-minded
foreigner to watch the intensity of feeling displayed by the
Revolutionary Army as opposed to the downhearted attitude of the
small Imperial force which took the field.

On the same morning that I interviewed the Revolutionary Commander of
the Field Forces I was successful in discovering that General Chang
Piao was on board a launch down-river.  I immediately made off by
launch {61} to see him.  As I sat soon afterwards by the side of this
Chang Piao, the man in all Hupeh who had been entrusted with the
authority of the Model Army, and looked at a medium-sized Chinese who
gave no evidence of being a common soldier by anything in his dress,
and as I looked at his unshaven head and bloodshot eyes, I could not
find it in my heart to extend to him anything but genuine pity.  He
recently had been a strong man, high in office, and dazzled with
braid and buttons and all official paraphernalia which to-day is
thought so much of in military China; now he was a crestfallen man,
knowing that he had lost, cut off from all supplies, with a helpless
army on his hands, and himself knowing that fifty thousand Chinese
dollars were being offered for his head.  With some little difficulty
I had jumped on board, asked for Chang Daren, and was shown into the
cabin aft, where I found some dozen or so officers eating their
morning rice.  Towards me came a man dressed in an ordinary teacher's
garb; he extended his nervous hand, and with ceremony bade me enter.
His name he told me was Chang--this, then, was the man, General Chang
Piao, erstwhile Commander-in-Chief of the Hupeh Model Army.

A well-built fellow, some five feet six or seven, with hard,
determined mouth, and a chin of iron, was Chang Piao; his jet-black
eyes looked suspiciously out at us.  By the side of the General as he
sat, one leg up under him in real Chinese fashion, stood a guard of
soldiers with loaded pieces; in front of us as we talked were seated
the dishevelled officers and staff of the General, some on upturned
boxes, some on the settee (which had been the General's
resting-place), some on the floor, all busy with their rice-bowls and
chopsticks.

At first Chang looked at me in apparent unconcern.  Then--

"Where do you come from?  What do you want?  {62} What nationality
are you?"  These questions came from him as quickly as he could put
them.

"I shall not do any fighting at all to-day," he said.  "My scouts are
all around the country-side, and my troops, some three thousand of
them--and all good men, far better than the rebels--are lying in
ambush away at Niekow.  I shall wait for the arrival of Yin Chang,[1]
who is coming with twenty thousand troops, and Admiral Sah, who is
waiting for more ammunition."

Chang Piao made no reference to his adversary, General Li Yuan Hung,
and did not seem inclined to encourage talk about the opposing side.
Later, however, in the midst of the small talk, he referred very
sympathetically to the Revolutionists, and was confident that they
would rue the day when they broke out into rebellion.  He continued:
"It will not be long before we shall be able to win.  There will, at
any rate, not be any serious fighting for four days, but when Sah has
his big guns' ammunition sent to him, and we have ours and our twenty
thousand drilled troops, the position will change speedily."

Imperial troops now began to pour down from the north.  Their
headquarters were made at a place called Niekow, a small village,
situated at the end of a big S bend in the railway leading out from
Kilometre Ten, and about six miles away.  Their first attack was made
on the morning of October 25th, the Revolutionists taking up their
position at the Government Paper Mill, situated below the Kilometre
Ten Station, and near the Seven Mile Creek.  People would point away
in a northerly direction and tell you that over there were the
Loyalists--twelve thousand, fifteen thousand, seventeen thousand,
twenty thousand of them, mobilised for action.  But no one actually
knew; every one merely guessed.  True it was that on the previous day
several hair-brained {63} adventurers went so far forward as to tempt
the Loyalist outposts into shooting at them, and then set the
Concessions talking about their internationality and how the
Loyalists were bent on shooting every foreigner they could catch.

[Illustration: THE RAW MATERIAL OF THE REVOLUTIONARY ARMY.  "Enlisted
on Tuesday, drilled on Wednesday, shot on Thursday," was often the
record of a revolutionary recruit.]

It was some days previous that my launchman had refused point blank
to convey me near the scene of action.  Therefore was it that at dawn
I was astir by the riverside at Hankow hailing a sampan, the men who
were willing to go down-river demanding, in hoarse voices, exorbitant
charges to get me near the fight if there was to be one.  Having
sufficiently argued the point and boarded a boat, however, we soon
came to the firing-line, to the Revolutionary base, having been
questioned by the sentries along the riverside as to who we were and
what our business was.  We rowed down to the Government Paper Mill,
up a tributary to the main river, and landed.  But no one was to be
seen as we walked haphazardly onwards for some minutes, our only
obstacle being a poor, one-eyed wretch trying to sell us some of the
Loyalist ammunition and empty shells, at ridiculous prices as curios
go.

Suddenly, however, there was an enormous explosion, which nearly
broke our eardrums, and we knew that operations were commencing.
Coming to an open space, we discovered small parties of infantry
under cover of undulations in the ground, and slightly to the north,
raised from the ground, were the field-guns.  I was now between the
river and the railway, and, with the other men around me, who told me
to "duck," as they expected a rapid return of the enemy's shells,
waited for the Loyalists' return.  Then, after some minutes, a little
dancing flame, a little column of blue smoke, a dull, heavy boom, and
a continued whistle in the air, told us that the enemy had started.
With my glasses I watched anxiously for the shells, which fell short.
With terrific force they dropped into swampy ground some five hundred
yards in front of us, sending {64} up the water most picturesquely.
There was a laugh from the Revolutionists around me as I reported the
news to them, and they lay still in their positions, waiting, they
hardly knew for what.

Going up to the field-guns, several of which had been brought down by
a train now unloading, I found that there were ten four-inchers, most
of which had the range beautifully.  There were also Rexers, Maxims,
and smaller fry.

Of the Loyalists, even with the aid of good field-glasses, nothing
could be seen.  Their camp at Niekow--some considerable distance to
the north--was plainly visible, and the shooting was directed across
the top of that S bend in the line; and thus it continued for another
half an hour, the Loyalist guns failing to find their range and
falling short.  Ear-pads there were none; other ordinary equipment
war correspondents carry I had none, so lay down as the guns shot and
wrote my copy.  Suddenly there was a sharp, deadly firing of Rexers,
more deadly than the Maxim, and after that no sound.  The rebels fell
to jubilant congratulation, declaring that they had silenced the
enemy, and that they could move forward and chase them.  But they had
misreckoned.  Of officers among the Revolutionary men there were
many.  But of order I saw nothing.  Each man did as he pleased and
went where he pleased and when.  Each gave orders and
counter-suggestions to one another, and none was prepared for
following up the engagement in its several possible turns.

And now their misreckoning was to be forced home.  Dancing high above
the earth, truly denoting danger to come, was the blue flame of the
enemy.  The releasing boom was heard, the whizz-z-z of the shell
became noisier as it sailed through the air towards us; each
instinctively bent his head and waited for the shell to burst.  Then
came the bursting directly above us in mid-air, telling that one gun
at {65} least--certainly the biggest in the field--had got the range.
In and around the firing-line of the Revolutionists there was a
"Hiyah!"  Some of the men rose immediately, slung their rifles over
their backs, looked round anxiously for their comrades, and made to
run; others still stayed on.  But the enemy, now sure of the range,
lost no time.  In deadly succession shell after shell was put into
the men who were fighting for the establishment of the model
Republic.  At the time, however, the Republic seemed far away.

Several shells as I stooped behind some brickwork broke directly in
front of us, tearing up the red earth of the line.  Simultaneously
others broke above our heads, and the shrapnel descended in a deadly
shower.  So far as I could see, no one yet had been wounded,
certainly no one killed.  But at this moment I decided to go,
simultaneously, it appeared, with many scores of the Revolutionist
infantry.  For in a couple of minutes, as I sprinted along the river
bank, making for some decent cover, I found myself perilously running
in the middle of a most disordered rabble of several hundred men,
each doing as he liked.  Some held their rifles high in the air, some
pointed them onward at their fellows, others dragged them after
them--and none was there to give them orders.  Meantime, as we ran,
shells were dropping around us.  We could hear sharp "pings" on the
corrugated roofs of the buildings we were passing, and all were glad
when out of range.

In the village at the foot of the V-shaped ground we met many more of
the Revolutionists, some gunners, some infantry, who had fled.

All decided that they had been routed; some asked whether the guns
had been deserted, and were told that they had; and one, in an
eminently Chinese way, made a small purchase of ten cash worth of
nuts from an old woman by the roadside, arguing in the heat of battle
as to whether he should give her ten or eight cash, and filling his
knapsack, whilst his more {66} excited comrades discussed the plan of
subsequent events.

Thus had the rebels been reversed, completely beaten at the game they
themselves had started.  The reverse, however, or rather the loss of
their position, taught them a valuable lesson.

[Illustration: THE CENTRAL MART OF THE WORLD.  Thus do the Chinese
describe Hankow.  In the foreground is a small section of the Hanyang
Steel and Iron Works.  Across the River Han the city of Hankow is
seen.]


[1] General Yin Chang, President of the Board of War--a man who was
trained in Germany.  He has a German wife.




{67}

CHAPTER VII

THE BATTLE OF KILOMETRE TEN

After these first hostilities men and things began to move with
lightning rapidity.  By October 27th the Loyalists, strongly
reinforced by Imperial troops from the north, held the situation
fairly well, fighting with remarkable persistence.  What passed
during that day and those immediately ensuing should prove a lesson
to the Western world.  Warfare opened at dawn, and the Imperialists,
fighting against a strongly entrenched army of Revolutionists
numerically superior but not so well commanded, won a complete
victory.  The Revolutionists fought bravely, and their losses were
heavy.

As will be seen in detail later in this volume, the Revolutionists
were expecting the Imperial troops to join them as soon as the real
cause of the fighting became known to them, for it was a vital part
of the Imperial policy to keep the northern troops in ignorance of
the nature of the revolt.  The Revolutionists openly declared
themselves disappointed.  But as a matter of fact, even if the
Imperialists had been willing to join, there was no opportunity
presented to them.  The arrangement of their troops was such that the
Honan and Shantung soldiers were in front with the Manchus directly
behind them.  This was a cleverly designed manoeuvre on the part of
the Manchu officers that worked for the success of the Loyalists.
The Honan men could neither lay down their arms nor turn back--even
if they so wished.  An attempt to join the {68} enemy would have
brought upon them the fire of the Manchus, and the steady advance of
the latter prevented any reverse movement.

Foreign military observers who witnessed the battle of Kilometre Ten
unite in saying that the Imperialists made their attack and continued
it in the face of stubborn resistance and in the most scientific
manner, advancing steadily under the cover of their artillery.  From
a position some quarter of a mile south of the Kilometre Ten station,
the Revolutionary base, I watched for some three hours hardest
musketry and artillery fire.  The deadly warfare raged across a wide
stretch of country lying to the north-east of the Revolutionary
headquarters, over swampy ricefields and half-cultivated ground.  Big
four-inchers opened fire just before seven on a cold, grey morning,
and both armies, having moved slightly to the front, were within easy
rifle fire of each other.  The Revolutionary Army had spread itself
in the shape of a right angle, with the bigger guns at either point,
and strong lines of enthusiastic infantry entrenched on the north
side of the railway line and well fortified behind stone embankments
and undergrowth along the river abreast of Kilometre Ten and for some
distance below on towards the oil-tanks of the Asiatic Petroleum
Company, Ltd.

The Imperialists, returning the Revolutionary gun-fire with marked
precision, found their range with the fourth shrapnel, the
Revolutionists taking much longer, and having nothing more than the
ordinary 1¾ and 3 inch explosives--their great need was shrapnel.

Far across the field was one bank of ever-increasing smoke, and of
necessity shooting was vague.  But both armies, with an earnestness
and energy that one was not accustomed to see in Chinese, kept up
smart riflery for two hours, with hardly a moment's lull, showing
that the Chinese Model Army, if boasting little else, can boast of
men who face battle without flinching.  {69} For two hours, at the
very edge of the field, I watched operations through my glasses, and
then saw Admiral Sah's fleet coming up-river slowly--it had been
creeping up for some time.  At first it was thought that the
Revolutionary guns known to be at Kinshan, a point on the other side
of the river almost opposite Yanglo, would open fire upon the fleet,
but this did not happen, and not during the whole of the day was
there any firing from that side of the river.  Shells from both camps
were being sent out at a terrific rate.  Those from the Imperial Army
were seen to be bursting with deadly effect in the Revolutionary
ranks, and the poor fellows who were willing to seal the Republic
with their blood were seen to fall in hundreds.

[Illustration: THE FLIGHT OF THE GUN-JUNKS.  These old-style
revolutionary gunboats scudded away at the Battle of Kilometre Ten
when Admiral Sah opened fire.]

For some half-hour it was impossible in the din and the smoke from
the firing, added to the fact that both armies were magnificently
entrenched, to tell which side was doing the more deadly work, but
for more than two hours the rattle of musketry, of Rexer machine
guns, of Maxims, and three and four inch guns told one that the
death-roll must be tremendous.  Such incessant rattle was not known
even in the Russo-Japanese War.  Suddenly the fleet moved upwards.
No one seemed to take notice of the move or to attach great
importance to it.  A small village below the Japanese Bund was as
peaceful as if battle was removed a thousand miles from it, and the
villagers, preparing their morning rice, paid but little heed to the
gradually nearing musketry.  To myself there came a fear that from my
temporary resting-place I should soon have to shift.  Down behind the
stones at the Kilometre Ten station I could then see the
Revolutionary troops beginning to rise and prepare for a withdrawal.
Simultaneously, from the railway away to the north, three companies
of regular troops, well in command and meaning business, came down,
orderly enough, marched out into the open field, knelt, and prepared
for fire.  But what at?  Eyes had been taken from the {70} gun-boats,
which were now within such distance that their operations could
easily be seen with the naked eye.  They were evidently preparing to
sweep the decks of the cruisers with rifle-shot if they came within
firing distance.  Field-guns appeared to be all forward with the main
fighting line, and this batch of infantry was all that was available.

The Revolutionary army was drawn up over a very wide area, stretching
from the river bank above Kilometre Ten to a point far over away from
the other side of the railway, the whole forming a right angle with
three main fortified points, and in between were companies of
infantry entrenched.  The shells from the Loyalists, put in from
several guns over the whole of the enemy's right angle, were tearing
the ranks to pieces.  This could be seen through the glasses.  But
gradually the fighting came nearer.  The men who were fighting for
the establishment of their Republic were being slowly driven back.
First one company would move a little back, kneel again, and
whole-heartedly recommence musketry fire.  But the moment came, not
much after 9.30 a.m., when it became apparent that the ships were
going to add their quota--and all too deadly a quota as it
transpired--to rout the Revolutionists.  First came a terrific boom,
which rent the air, even though all the firing round about ceased not
for a moment.  There seemed then in the air to be for a single moment
a silence boding terrible evil.  There was another bang; the shell
burst right in the railway--just in the station which had been the
pride of the Revolutionary forces as their formidable base--a flame
was seen to go up from one of the buildings in the front, and the
Admiral saw that he had got his range.

[Illustration: THE EFFECT OF A NAVAL BOMBARDMENT.  This populous
village was burned to the ground in the first engagement of Admiral
Sah's fleet with revolutionary army.]

For an army well trained in the arts of war, old veterans of modern
warfare, it would be a brave thing, perhaps foolhardy, to endeavour
to stand before an army equal to itself and a naval force whose
strength was unknown.  Much more would it be to expect it of {71} an
army, a great percentage made up of raw recruits, who had hardly
handled a rifle before this Revolution broke out.  At the time of
which I am writing this was the position of the Revolutionary Army.
From the land forces they could expect as much as they could tackle
with the forces they had then at their base.  It had been a good
fight, and they had held their ground well, feeling the need of
trained troops.  In addition to that, many of the trained troops were
shot down by their own men--recruits who had been placed in the rear
lines and had shot down the regulars at the front--a most regrettable
feature for the Revolutionists during the whole campaign.

Now that warships began to pelt shells into the Revolutionary camp
with alarming precision, it seemed hopeless for them.  The great
majority, however, with marked coolness stuck to their guns.

Over the land came the whistle of Admiral Sah's shells--their effect
was terrific.  Soon it was seen that the Revolutionists would have to
evacuate.  To stay in their present situation would have meant only
utter disaster, and they saw it was a hopeless task.  Many of them
came slowly from the ranks, all muddy and disordered, tired and
forlorn, and made their way back through the sympathetic villages and
along the railway line towards Hankow native city.  Then they came
away pellmell, and the Imperialists pelted them with shells as they
fled.  Peking men crept up through the trenches with capital skill,
being officered splendidly, and showing by all that they did--gunners
and infantry--that they were a modern army, and to be reckoned with.
They then came away to the Racecourse; were temporarily beaten back
by a ragtail and bobtail crowd of Revolutionists, more ardent than
skilful, who had taken up a fresh stand.  Firing was recommenced, and
the Imperialists, despite the fact that Maxims were turned on them
with terrific force, came up through the trenches.  Their bravery was
one of the wonderful {72} features of the day, and will be handed
down in history.  Hopelessly were they mown down, brutally were they
knocked out by Maxim fire, but they stuck to it and came along in a
style British regiments would not look down upon.

"Brothers!" they would exclaim in their ignorance, "we are fighting a
pack of robbers and hooligans.  We must fight to save our country
from unworthy men."

Towards two o'clock, after scouting parties had been working from
both sides, they again came to close quarters by the side of the
Japanese Concession, and it was feared that the Foreign Concessions
would be rushed on the first day's fight.  These settlements, however
were guarded splendidly--American, Austrian, British, French, German,
and Japanese naval contingents being stationed all over the place,
with the roads all barricaded, and every measure taken to preserve
peace and order.

The number of dead in this battle, as in most of the others, was not
known.

Following on the Imperial success earlier in the day, Admiral Sah
then sent official intimation to British Rear-Admiral Winsloe, who
was nominally in charge of the foreign defences, that he would
commence to bombard Wuchang on the morrow at three p.m.  A consular
circular was sent round to that effect, strongly advising that all
women and children should leave.  It further said that the foreign
gunboats might drop down river, but that full guards would be landed
and kept in the Concessions for defence.  The volunteers also would
remain on duty.

[Illustration: PREPARED FOR EVENTUALITIES.  The Americans on guard at
the Foreign Concession while heavy fighting was going on close by.
It was feared by the foreign community that either side, when beaten,
might make for cover in the Concession.]

It was during these days that Admiral Sah played a remarkable game of
bluff.  The promised bombardment did not come off, and it was
afterwards learned that it had never been intended.  On board the
cruisers there was a shortage of ammunition, among the crew the
greatest dissatisfaction was openly expressed; the Admiral was not
quite sure that if he bombarded {73} Wuchang he would cause a
surrender; he also entertained the feeling that this was a squabble
of the land forces, and told the Imperial leaders he thought they
should be strong enough to end the affair themselves--and so the days
passed by without any serious interference in Wuchang of General Li
Yuan Hung's policy of sitting tight.  The added moral effect of his
holding Wuchang to the Revolution was tremendous: each day brought
news of either provincial capitals or "_fu_" cities throwing in their
lot with the Revolution, and Li, far-seeing and tremendously capable,
held back the attack the Wuchang garrison was anxious to commence,
and concentrated his army on the Hankow side.

Here fighting was being carried on with a pluck which astounded all
beholders.  The Imperial Army was for the first time since the
Chinese Model Army had been organised plunged into real warfare.  The
Revolutionists--a teeming multitude, it is true--were for the most
part raw recruits, men who had never stood before gun-fire, whom one
could reasonably have expected to be "gun-shy."  But their bravery,
because they believed their fight was one for emancipation, from what
very few of the raw recruit element knew probably, would have made
many an Occidental regiment blush with envy.

Truly were those first days of the war a season of intense excitement
and surprise.

By November 1st the Imperialists, already in possession of Kilometre
Ten and the whole line from Peking, by persevering and undaunted
behaviour, excellent discipline, and military common sense, had won
their way to the Tachimen, the railway station behind the French
Concession.  That morning I was in the camp at the station.
Foreigners had been looked upon with suspicion, and as I entered the
station some of the officers looked askance at me.  No other army
would have allowed me to pass the barrier without having seen a pass.
But pass I had none.  As I sat chatting {74} to a crowd of well-knit
northern fellows, who seemed perfectly at ease and to have all they
wished for--except cigarettes, for which they were constantly making
inquiries--it was difficult to believe that one was in the very
centre of the topical world.  The eyes of every one were turned
towards this great struggle between Chinese and Chinese.  Every
newspaper in London and New York was concentrating upon the war.
China's Revolution was on the far political horizon, for what
affected China just then affected the world.  And as those Imperial
fellows at their military base congratulated each other that at least
they had the chance of being actually in war, they had but little
idea of the importance attaching to the conflict.  Shells that
dropped around me, however, were bringing messages of a China that
was to be.

Not a hundred yards from where I sat were four field-guns--deadly
four-inchers, the modern Krupp--sending shells into Hanyang as fast
as the gunners were able to work.  The booming shook the whole city,
sending frightened children to their mothers, themselves at their
wits' ends with fear.  Revolutionary batteries at Hanyang, not yet
silenced or showing any signs of giving up the fight, dropped its
shells sometimes nearer, sometimes farther, never into the battery
here on the railroad.

As an interested spectator, I sat on a few sleepers and watched where
the shells dropped from both sets of guns.  It was a casual pastime,
and no one seemed to mind my being there.  The gunners would, with
highest glee, explain how the four-inchers were worked, would point
away towards Hanyang Hill and tell you they were trying to pot the
temple overlooking the Yangtze, and when a shell from the enemy
dropped anywhere near there was a shout of enthusiastic mirth.  They
would look at one astutely, smile, inquire into one's family
associations in characteristic Chinese style, and {75} were highly
delighted if relevantly one could carry on conversation with them in
Chinese.  The average military observer would probably have declared
the Imperial Army to be a peculiar military force.  Into the daily
routine the extravagant Chinese etiquette was worked in conjunction
with a discipline quite strange to Chinese, and on the face of things
it would not seem, viewed from camp life, that China's army was in
any way a modern army.  But that this Model Army of China is as much
of a myth as some would have us believe, I, now in it all, could not
for a moment endorse.  The foreigner has always looked upon the
Chinese as a man who would not fight him with the weapons of war; his
main attack would be the weapons of commerce, of boycott, or of
trust.  But the Chinese Army to-day is certainly no myth.  It is
strong enough to preserve peace with other countries, if not to enter
into any external strife with the idea of winning.

That the Revolutionists had the numbers I would have been the first
to admit, but the trained fighter is the man who wins in battle.  Not
one-fifth of their troops were trained soldiers; they have been seen
to come out into the fighting line, wearing the uniform of the
military it is true, to put the butts of their pieces upon their hips
and let fly, until they saw their own men falling dead in front of
them, shot from behind.  But with the Northern Army it needed only a
stroll round their camp to convince the most casual of observers that
the Revolutionary's enemy was an army, doing things as an army
should.  The army defending the Throne was the product of twelve
years of strenuous work by a great genius.  The Northern Army was
founded upon principles set down by Yuan Shih K'ai, the genius of
things military in China, and that genius, using his brains but
seeing nothing of the fight, was just then directing the operations
as they proceeded.

Whether the Imperialists were getting to know more about that for
which they were fighting, whether a {76} great many in the rank and
file were anxious to throw up the sponge and go back to their homes,
whether a certain section of them were anxious to change coats and go
over to the other ranks and shoot down those by whose side they had
been trained did not affect the general position.  The Imperialists
were the cogs of the machine, and for their life they could not stop
fighting.  They might have been half-hearted, as many said they were,
but their organisation was almost perfect.

[Illustration: FOES MEETING AS FRIENDS.  A regiment of soldiers
casting in their lot with the Revolutionists against whom they had
lately fought.]

As I sat on the railway sleepers a crowd of soldiers soon gathered.
Some held their rice-bowls up to me, and with their chopsticks as
they ate asked me to _chi-fan_, and when I took a hard piece of bread
from one of the infantry and began to munch at it to show that there
was not the slightest ill-feeling they all screamed with laughter,
and each swore that I was a good all-round sort of fellow.  And then
we fell to talking.  "Ah!" indignantly yelled the officer, when I
asked him why Chinese were fighting Chinese, "these men are
rebels--_ding kuai, ding kuai tih ren!_[1]  They are making it nasty
for the foreign Concessions, and our Government are going to put it
down.  They are not real soldiers.  They are only robbers and wicked
men; they can't fight.  We [and the man stroked himself down] are the
fighters."  And then he invited me to go a little way with him, until
we came in sight of the guns then sending out the shells.  "We have
guns here that would blow those fellows into that great river, and if
they don't give up soon that's what we are going to do.  We are not
going to leave a house standing; it is Yuan Shih K'ai's orders, and
in a few days it will all be over, and we shall all go back to Peking
and have a holiday.  Yuan Shih K'ai," he softly said, "is down at
Kilometre Ten,[2] and {77} he will not come up farther.  He is a
wonderful fellow.  He has his fingers on the situation, and is merely
waiting his time.  The Revolutionists think that he is afraid because
our men are not fighting to-day, but you wait; presently you will see
all the people in this city killed.  We are killing anybody we can
see, and shall kill many, many more yet."

"But don't you think that that's a funny sort of _tao li_ for Chinese
to kill Chinese?"  Then the man turned his head away and did a
half-hearted smile.  "Ah! that's altogether another question.  That
was the old style.  We are a new army, and we are told to fight for a
New China.  We don't want our country to fall into the control of all
those wicked men."

"Yes, I can see that right enough.  But these poor fellows that your
crack shooting is knocking over are good fellows, and are all
fighting for the good of their country too----"

But he interrupted me.  He would have none of it.  He thought that I
was myself a Revolutionist, and ceased talking.  "That's what they
tell you," he finally remarked.  "If they get into power, it will be
totally different."

Again I approached him as he walked from me.  "I'm afraid that you
have not got the truth of the story.  These men think that they are
in the right.  They are not the robbers you think them, surely.
Probably you have been misinformed, and----"

"We're not misinformed.  Our officers are all good men, and our men
are the best that could be sent.  We are the best in the army, and
that is the reason we were sent...."

* * * * *

It soon became evident that a threat of the {78} Imperialists would
be carried out.  Their first threat was that they would get Hankow
the first day, Hanyang the second, Wuchang the third.  Hankow would
soon be taken.  Everybody knew that.  Whether Yuan Shih K'ai would
allow his army to burn it to the ground, as was stated was his
intention, was, however, another matter.  None believed that such
savagery would be allowed; but that was the threat, and, after all,
fires are common in wartime.

[Illustration: TACHIMEN, WITH IMPERIALISTS IN OCCUPATION.  This was
the Imperialist headquarters till the withdrawal of the Northern Army
from the Wuhan centre.]

The Rev. A. J. McFarlane, Headmaster of the Griffith John College,
who remained some distance from Hankow during most of the heavy
fighting, gave me the following account of a somewhat dangerous ride
he had along the road at the back of the city.  It will serve to show
the conditions around the country during the time the fusillading was
hardest:--

"On Sunday, October 29th, the Imperial troops had fought their way
all along the railway line from the Sing Seng Road to the River Han
at Ch'iaokow, and from the College we heard the bark of the Maxims
for the first time on Sunday evening, and that night there were fires
in nine places around the railway line.  But by Monday evening a
counter-attack of Hunan troops seemed to have carried the tide of
battle back again to the Tachimen Station; and local rumours said
that the Imperialists were all cut to pieces, or had surrendered.
Certainly it was evident from the firing that they had fallen back a
long way, and as we had had no news from Hankow for four days, and
were in need of silver for salaries, and for the scholars' food, I
decided on Tuesday to try and get through to the Concessions.  (We
had continued a few classes regularly till Saturday, but on Sunday
the last two Chinese masters left.)

"The three-mile ride to the beginning of the native city was marked
by the signs of recent fighting, and I had to make a detour where
some Imperialists were said to be concealed in a hut, and sniping was
going {79} on.  I got to the Ma-loo, on the old city wall, and found
the whole place deserted; even the mud huts of the beggars were empty
and half-burnt; and in place of the usual crowd of foot-passengers,
bearers, and rickshaws there was not a human being, not even a stray
dog in sight.  Hankow native city seemed like a city of the dead--it
was not burned till the next day, Wednesday--and there must have been
still thousands hidden away in the houses.  After about a mile of the
road, where signs of the stern resistance--shell holes in houses and
strewn cartridge-cases--were on every side, I came to five or six
Hunan soldiers, lying in the shelter of the parapet by the roadside,
waiting for snipe-shots at Imperial soldiers, who were in possession
of the railway bank, running parallel to the Ma-loo, about half a
mile away.  They waved me forward in a friendly way, evidently not
wishing to reveal their presence to the enemy.  So I continued the
lonely ride, and passed the mangled body of a black-coat, covered
with flies, and a heap of unused shells, telling their tale of defeat
and hasty retreat.  The silent air was heavy with the smell of death,
and the odour of burned flesh and wood was everywhere.  Suddenly a
flash and the bang of a rifle from the railway bank, and as I did not
know whether it was meant for me I dismounted and walked forward a
little to show myself as a foreigner, but as nothing more followed I
cycled on again, and soon passed another ten black-coats, lying by
the roadside, waiting for pot-shots at the railway bank, and a few
more in the shelter of a house, firing through the ruined windows.
There were one or two more dead Revolutionists, and a half-burned
pony or cow among some ruined huts, and farther on a dead woman by
the roadside, evidently of the beggar class, lying half-naked in a
pool of blood.  As I neared the Water Tower there were two or three
small stalls open, and a few people about; and I caught the first
glimpse of a squad of {80} grey-coats, moving, some way off, among
the huts.  The Marines, at the end of the Ma-loo, helped my bicycle
over the barrier of sacks and bricks there, and the report of a
cannon firing close by just at that moment emphasised the heavenly
sense of safety and relief as one trod once more on Concession soil,
where all was peace and quiet.

"At 3 p.m. as the conditions seemed much the same, and I had done my
business and secured the needed dollars, I rode back again the same
way without any adventures, save for a jumpy, tightening feeling
round the heart as a few sniping shots passed backwards and forwards
again, till I got beyond the city to the comparative safety of the
deserted countryside, and to a hearty welcome from the School."


[1] "Very bad men" in the literal Chinese.

[2] It was about this time that Yuan Shih K'ai, in compliance with a
strong invitation from the Throne, took office.  He was appointed
Viceroy of the Hu-kwang, and was instructed to quell the rebellion.
The report was that he was now at Kilometre Ten, but he was really at
Siaokan.  Perhaps readers would care to read the chapter dealing with
Yuan at this juncture.




{81}

CHAPTER VIII

THE BURNING OF HANKOW

Have you ever seen a fire--a big fire?  Have you ever stood watching
a wide prairie fire and seen the flames dance and leap upwards,
downwards, wriggle in and out, and menacingly approach you?  If you
have, you will in some measure be able to follow me.  Can you imagine
in that great dancing prairie fire that you have seen thousands of
housetops, minarets, temple spires, roofs of all heights, sizes, and
shapes--can you?  Can you imagine those wild flames, fanned strongly
to one side, and see that mighty belt of flame galloping furiously
onward, then drawing back, then galloping on again and gaining
ground, then settling finally down as if it had its luckless enemy in
its most deadly grasp, slowly to torture it and cruelly to draw from
it its last gasp of life?  Can you see that sea-like, billowy mass of
curling smoke, too thick to be driven by the strong north wind, but
just thick enough slowly to move and to give way now and again to
that enormous force of white-hot, crackling fire that sends up its
deep red flame in anger to the heavens?  And can you see beyond you
through that dense smoke more roofs and spires and curving Chinese
architecture, seeming to dodge up and down, in and out, like a full
disordered regiment of cavalry in awful flight; on and on they seem
to go, yet to get no farther?  Terrific is their endeavour, but
futile.  They gallop never faster, in and out, up and down, and at
last, {82} giving up all hope, are compelled hopelessly to settle
down in the smoke and are lost to sight for ever.

[Illustration: THE BURNING OF HANKOW.  A wave of flame a mile and a
half wide swept through the city and rendered half a million people
homeless.]

But those roofs are not cavalry; they are not men.  The men and
terrified women, and the tiny helpless children, the old fathers and
the mothers, the invalids, the incapacitated, the blind, the halt,
and the maimed had left the city a couple of days before, and now
were around the countryside, rich and poor alike being turned out of
house and home.  Those who doubted, however, or were indifferent were
mixed up in the flaming street, helpless, hopeless, waiting for their
inevitable doom in that great fire, the great fire of Hankow, the
devoted central market of the Chinese world, now lost in doom in the
Chinese war.

No one will ever tell precisely what happened during the firing of
the city.  Europeans gathered on their housetops in the Concessions
to watch and to feel their hearts torn with pity.  One gazed
abstractedly into a boiling cauldron, and expected that behind the
lurid flame thousands were pitifully exchanging their sad farewells
ere they settled down to die.  There seemed to be no escape for the
poor people other than in the grave; all effort seemed to be void of
hope.  As one watched he seemed to feel that underneath those roofs
the saddest scenes possible to enact in history were being recorded
with sad, sad tears.  He seemed to feel that they were huddled round,
those men and women, those little children, those invalids, those
blind, those poor people who were about to die like rats in their
holes.  And there crept into one's soul an infinite pathos.

[Illustration: THE SING SENG ROAD.  The smartest thoroughfare of
Hankow, after the fire.  For over a week fierce fighting was
maintained here.]

But I ask again, Can _you_ imagine all this?  And imagining, think
you that you could describe?  I watch, and watch.  The flames seem to
draw me into their fiery bosom as the phosphorus does in the sea.  I
can see it all, spreading away madly to the right, to the left, then
again meeting in the centre.  It tears cruelly along does this great
belt of jagged flame, and soon will {83} meet its fellow.  They seem
to be racing, each section of that horrid fire appearing to be vieing
with that other section in killing and burning, in slow death, many
peaceable people who were unable to flee.  On it goes again, and
upwards, downwards, in, out, back, forth; sometimes it comes to a
greater mass, which yields less readily, and there it sits, like some
great bird of prey, until its conquest is at hand, and then goes
forward again with a furious glee.  I have asked you whether,
imagining this, you could describe it.  Here am I, seated on a lofty
rooftop, and see it.  It is here, in all its horrible reality,
happening before my eyes as I write, making the history of our time,
and it is my business to describe it; that is why I am here.  And yet
my pen falls helplessly.  It baffles description.  The phraseology
will not come.  The words stick, the pen remains unmoved; I cannot
describe it.  By far the worst thing I have ever known is this savage
razing of a great city to become a city of the dead and a place of
weeping.

[Illustration: Map of Hankow Native City Showing Burnt Area.]

But one thinks as one sees, far away in one corner of that deep,
dense, disordered flaming mass, one small, straight line of smoke
going up to the heavens, that that is the fitting sacrifice to the
hand of Destiny henceforth to guide this downtrodden people into
happier channels.  That, however, will come with the years; now the
fire is with us.  In our own way, we who watched the war had talked
about the burning of the city.  After all, it is nothing much to burn
a city of five hundred thousand souls to the ground.  In China one
walled city is hardly to be reckoned; and what, pray you, is it for
five hundred thousand human beings among four hundred and thirty
millions to be without home or shelter?  When China burns, when she
kills, when she does anything that people who call themselves
civilised shrink from dreaming of, she shows the world that she is
the past mistress in all things that we call savage.  It is, to us,
an act of cruellest {84} savagery.  To us it is a sin against God and
man wilfully to burn a city to the ground, wantonly to destroy
hundreds of thousands of pounds' worth of accumulated wealth; to us
it is all a crime unthinkable.  To China it is a good thing that by
such acts of so-called savagery, of realest barbarism, of grossest,
inhuman tactics the people, the common people, the hewers of national
wood and the drawers of national water, are taught to know that they
must keep their place, that the hand of the Government is strong,
that the place in which Heaven has placed them must honourably be
filled, and that towards Revolution they should have no leanings.  To
China the sweeping into eternity of thousands of fellow-mortals is
for the benefit of those who remain, and the destruction of property
in their national hysteria matters not a moment of passing thought.
So to those of us who know China, and who cannot believe that all
that we see and hear is true of the bewildering reform that is
alleged to have caught the country and its people into its arms, it
was not a great surprise to see the Imperialists carrying out their
threat to burn the city to ashes.  And it is fortunate that scores of
thousands of people, who knew the national spirit and who expected
the horrors of former rebellions to be repeated, packed up what
little belongings they could and cleared out of gunshot by either
land or water.

Throughout the long day the fire burned away, making a sight as
wonderful as it was ghastly.  From the fateful city the frightened
people who had remained behind came in droves; or, at any rate, they
made the attempt, only to be shot down by the soldiers who were
waiting for them.  If no satisfactory explanation was forthcoming
from those terrified people, they were unmercifully bayoneted or shot
dead.  The streets were guarded by Imperialists, who seemed bent on
having blood, and who, with frightful glee, carried out their mission
with impunity.  It is, perhaps, {85} needless to say more.  It was a
sight that Nero might have enjoyed, but to any one with any humanity
left him, even to those people one occasionally meets in China who
have no sympathies for the Chinese, and think that they should not be
helped religiously or socially, but should be left to go on their
ill-appointed way, the sight must have caused the greatest pain.
People would come to the exits of the city hoping to find refuge on
the Foreign Concessions; they had dropped on the way the little gear
they could at the outset carry, and now they were hopeful, at all
events, of saving their lives, and sought to come through the gates.
But no, even this was denied them.  Back they had to go, probably to
their doom.  The British bluejackets stationed at these exits told me
that their hearts bled for the pitiful people, but their instructions
were that none should come out.  One of the greatest menaces
confronting the British authorities was the looting which threatened
the burning city.  One road only separated the city from the British
Concession, and when the people began to flee the looters were in an
Eldorado.  The scoundrels would come out with furs, silks, silver
ware, and every sort and condition of valuable, deposit it in the
Concessions, and go back for more, until it became necessary to
prevent Chinese from coming on the Concessions.  After a time,
however, this rule was modified, and volunteers who could speak the
language were stationed there to inquire the mission of those who
were fleeing; but hundreds must have run from gate to gate, like rats
in their holes, knowing that each moment the fire was encroaching
ominously.  At night the sight was watched by hundreds.  Truly
heartbreaking was it to look on one of the finest cities on the
Yangtze being razed to the ground.  When the darkness came on the
wide expanse of red flame lit up the country for miles around.  At
the London Mission Hospital, adjoining the Concessions, there was a
scare for fear that {86} the place would catch, for the wind veered
slightly.  All the patients were routed from their beds and carried
to other places of refuge.  Europeans and natives formed one large
mutual band in carrying away the valuables.  The sights we saw we
shall never forget.  The pitiable condition of the people, the
indignation of the multitudes, who swore vengeance against the
Government, and much more that one cannot hurriedly think of or
relate, will live long in our memories.

At the time of the fire's outbreak it was thought that thousands must
have perished in that modern Sodom and Gomorra.  The Imperialists
were mad for the lusts of war.  A day or two previous Yuan Shih K'ai
had offered a large reward for the recapture of Hankow, and the men
were hot for the spoils.  Their dead, truckloads piled up
irreverently, were all deposited in the flames, and over the
Concessions on the second day of the fire came the rank smell of
smouldering human flesh.  During those days Europeans witnessed a
hell from their rooftops.  At the back of the British Concession, at
the back of the French, and at the back of the German were batteries;
the Imperialists were winning their way over towards the Han River,
their goal, and from their batteries an incessant shelling was
vigorously kept up.

No one would forget those days.  But lest they should, as it seemed,
the big guns from Tachimen kept hard at it, planking shells into the
city of Hanyang and anywhere else where soldiers were likely to lay
ambushed.  The guns boomed away for an hour, and then there came
again dead silence, disturbed only by those who were still rescuing
the wounded and the helpless.  But the calm lasted not for long.
Soon from the corner of the city nearest the Foreign Concessions
there came fresh wreaths of black smoke, showing that the deadly work
had recommenced.  Soon the flames leaped up again, the wind blew them
farther inwards to the houses still standing, shells inconsequently
{87} fell near by; there was the same pathos and the same panic--the
city was on fire again.  And so it continued for three days, and one
could see all over again what he might imagine in that prairie fire.

[Illustration: THE TOLL OF THE DEAD.  After the heavy fighting round
Tachimen, nearly all the work of collecting the dead for burial fell
to the lot of foreigners.]

The wrath of Hades seemed to be upon the people.  All around the
countryside they were scared--and well they might have been, for in
their fury the Imperialists burned everything as they went along.  In
the midst of the huge conflagration, a general invitation was sent
out to foreigners to go into the city by way of the Maloo--the big
road skirting the city--to bring out eighty blind boys and the
wounded from the Wesleyan Mission Hospital.  First impressions were
that the hospital and school and all that the Mission possessed had
been gutted.  "We have £10,000 in the Mission," I overheard one of
the missionaries say, "but that's not so important as my blind boys."
Meantime permission by the Red Cross authorities had been secured for
the rescue party to go into the city.  Each man as he volunteered
knew he went at great personal risk.  Fighting was still heavy, but
every moment made a difference--and who knew but that those blind
boys were being burnt alive?  By dark they had, however, been
rescued--only those who went knew at what cost.

On November 3rd a significant lull took place.

These lulls are dangerous forerunners of evil in China.

The Imperialists had captured Hankow, and were known to be ready to
forge ahead towards Hanyang, the great stronghold of the
Revolutionists--a city almost impregnable in itself, with a high hill
sheltering the town behind, and reached only after fording a rapid
river some hundred yards wide at the narrowest.  To the north-west a
range of hills literally bristled with Revolutionary big guns; the
Hanyang Hill itself was practically one shell-proof cover, and noses
of guns of all sizes pointed in every direction.  At Wuchang all {88}
the hills were fortified, and along the river-front big guns were
lined for many miles above and below the town.  But in the actual
fighting, as has been said, there came a lull.  That it was a
dangerous lull and that it came before the storm was firmly believed.
No one better than the Chinese can wait--they are all past-masters in
the art of dilly-dallying--and it was believed that a few days would
see either the end of the war and the establishment of a new rule
under Yuan's dictatorship or the re-establishment of Imperial rule
with some modifications, or there would come about a state of affairs
infinitely worse than anything yet seen.

With the Revolutionists repeatedly beaten back, although at
considerable loss to the Imperialists, with two-thirds of Hankow city
nothing but a heap of black, charred ruins, with thousands and tens
of thousands of people wandering with no home and no food, with women
maltreated and ravished, with looting and massacring proceeding at a
devilish pace, the casual onlooker would have concluded that the
Revolutionists had had enough.  They had seen that the Imperial hand
in dealing with them was inclined to come down with extreme force,
and if need be, to crush and totally annihilate them--if it could.
But, strangely, the Revolutionists, despite their sad plight, with
most of their best men killed or wounded, and a haphazard army only
at the command of the new leader, were still more enthusiastic.

Probably the most remarkable feature of the whole Revolution in the
immediate centre of the three cities around which the active
operations were concentrated was the behaviour of the Revolutionary
troops.  This to the Westerner who has never been to China may not be
deemed as important.  But the student of Chinese affairs and the
readers of Chinese history will be aware that in past revolts in this
country the soldiery, such as it had been, had not startled the world
with their clean conduct at any period.  The reverse had been {89}
the case.  Previous rebellions had been made famous for the amount of
looting, stealing, ravishing, and general lawlessness that had
prevailed.  But in the Revolution which was led by General Li there
was none of this.  Throughout, the magnificent manner in which the
troops, both trained and untrained, had behaved was a credit to every
one concerned in the revolt.

The following edict, one of several published during the first days,
will go to show the spirit of the leaders:--


    "Li, commander-in-chief of the Chinese People's Army, by
    authority of the military Government, a special proclamation:

    "By the command of the army administration, I desire you the
    people of my country to know that wherever our patriotic troops
    come you need have no occasion for the least suspicion or
    anxiety.  I come to save you and with no idea of acquiring merit
    or personal profit, but to pull you out of fire and water, and to
    cure you of your cankering maladies.  Hitherto you have been
    bitterly oppressed and drowned in a sea of misery through being
    under the government of an alien race who treat you as bastards
    and not as children.  You must know that the present day Manchu
    slaves do not belong to the family of Han, and we, being animated
    by heaven-high patriotism, will not spare them their
    well-deserved retribution.  On this account I could not but raise
    our patriotic flag in order to give you deliverance by causing
    all the people to unite their strength and drive them out,
    together with the traitorous Chinese robbers whom I will not
    permit to continue long.  These robbers have hitherto eaten our
    flesh and now we will sleep in their skins.  Whoever is animated
    by patriotic sentiments let him quickly come and join our ranks,
    and together gain the glory of delivering the country.  The day
    of the revival of the Han people is arrived with the
    establishment of the Chinese republic with which you my brethren
    will have no cause to be ashamed.  Scholars, farmers, artisans,
    and merchants, let all unite their efforts with ours to drive out
    the Manchu barbarians.  Wherever our army goes it will be under
    perfect control and troops and people will be treated alike
    without the least partiality to either.  I desire you my beloved
    uterine brothers every one to respectfully listen to my
    exhortation.

    "Dated the 18th day of the first year of Hwang Ti, being the
    4609th year of China."


The other side of the question was eloquently put {90} in an Imperial
edict, published about the same time, and which reads:--


    "For over a month the various provinces have been greatly
    disturbed.  The causes for this have not been all alike, and it
    is necessary to discriminate in again proclaiming Our intentions
    to the Empire.  Those who are in favour of reforming the
    Government by revolutionary methods have been making impossible
    demands upon the Throne, yet We recognise that they have been
    called forth by a patriotic love for their country and are
    sincere; and also that the country is thrown into confusion and
    distress because We have failed to make progress in Governmental
    reform.  We have repeatedly proclaimed that a reformed and
    Constitutional Government shall be established, and We have
    granted an amnesty to all who formally have been guilty of
    political crimes, also allowing Revolutionists to form themselves
    into a political party to be used in the service of the State.
    But with regard to those Revolutionists, who ferment race hatred,
    who desire to create a feeling of enmity between the Manchus and
    the Chinese, they are not working for the reformation of the
    Government, but are simply dealing out ruin all round in order to
    gratify their private hate, and for this there is no
    justification.  We are labouring for the prosperity of the
    kingdom and the happiness of the people, and We cannot make the
    Government a constitutional one till the Empire is at peace.  If
    these men are allowed to excite the people with their mischievous
    speeches and pernicious ideas the disturbances will increase, the
    people will be scattered and miserably perish.  When the four
    classes of the people lose their occupation, the whole country is
    thrown into confusion.  There will be no end to the calamities.
    We would, therefore, earnestly and sincerely impress upon you
    scholars, gentry, army and people, the necessity of understanding
    the principle of reforming the Government and repressing
    disturbances.  The Throne loves and respects the people, and
    wishes them to seek after improvement, but as for those who act
    in opposition to this and keep on creating disturbances, they are
    the enemies of the public and a danger to all.  Although they are
    but a minority, My people ought to put them down with a strong
    hand, yet if they will repent their former crimes, they should be
    pardoned and their past offences not brought up against them.
    But bad characters, who seize the opportunity to burn, kill, rape
    and plunder, cannot be allowed to escape by any law of reason.
    They must be rooted out and hunted down with all speed till they
    are utterly exterminated in order that the good and peaceful
    people may be protected.  Therefore, let the Tartar Generals,
    commanders-in-chief, viceroys, governors and all who are in
    military authority respect my will and, discriminating between
    {91} the political parties put down the irreconcilables.  The
    Army and the people will understand this intention, and let all
    above and below with one mind labour for improvement.  Then will
    the country be fortunate and the people enjoy felicity without
    limit.

    "Let this Edict, together with the Edict of the 14th [Nov. 4th]
    be printed on yellow paper and posted, so that all may be
    informed.  Respect this."




{92}

CHAPTER IX

THE STRONGHOLD OF WUCHANG

It was to Wuchang that the country was now looking.  The
Revolutionists knew it.  Urged on by cleverly fashioned
proclamations, they fought as men have rarely fought.  The
Imperialists knew it, and they, too, slept neither day nor night.
The Revolution was spreading.  Unable to ascertain what was to
follow, foreigners from interior provinces came down to the coast and
the treaty ports for safety.  Foreign warships came up one after
another, Japanese predominating in number, and at one time totalled
no less than fifteen, under nominal command of Rear-Admiral
Kawashima.  Foreigners everywhere were doing volunteer duty.
Barricades had been built up, and all tiptoed in expectancy.
Fighting was desultory, with more Revolutionary losses than Imperial,
for several days.  Eleven days after the great battle of Kilometre
Ten, more than the savage burning of the city, very little effective
work had been done.  Firstly, they had not done what they led the
people to believe they would do.  Promise after promise by Admiral
Sah to bombard had been broken, the army had marched on Tachimen and
captured it, Hankow had been shelled and the place left a mass of
charred ruins with five hundred thousand helpless people cruelly
turned adrift to seek shelter where they might--and there the
accomplishment was _in extenso_.  Although they had tried, the
Imperialists had failed to capture Hanyang.  Wuchang still stood {93}
as the stronghold of the Revolutionary party, with ever-brightening
prospects of power.

Those who had closely followed events here had been surprised greatly
by the manner in which the Loyalist Army had worked out this
campaign.  Instead of smashing the Revolutionary Army in a few days,
which at the outset, after the first battle, seemed an easy thing for
them, they had dilly-dallied to such an extent that now they had a
greater task before them than they ever had--partly because of the
fact that trained rebel reinforcements had arrived from Hunan, and
partly because the _esprit de corps_ among the Revolutionists, which,
after their reverse, it would not have taken a great deal to have
knocked entirely out of them, had again wonderfully revived.

Yuan Shih K'ai, cutest of all Chinese in China, probably foresaw
this, and it may have been a part of his wisdom to stay his hand and
wait.  He was waiting, but he hardly knew for what.  He had hoped
probably that the first serious reverse would have knocked spirit out
of the men to such an extent that the Revolutionary Army would soon
have become disorganised, that the leaders would in true Chinese
fashion have been quarrelling among themselves, and that soon,
without money and supplies, the Revolutionary Army would have come
again to its senses.  Meantime, people were saying that General Li,
the Revolutionary leader, was a fool, that he should have marched out
his men and fought a good fight.  They could not see that Chinese had
met Chinese, and that both were playing their own game.  Yuan was
looked upon as being the great man who could make no false moves; Li
was merely a trained soldier, and what could he know?  He may not
have known much, but he knew enough.  He knew, at any rate, how to
play his own game, and each night at sundown he congratulated himself
upon having held the capital city yet another day--for Wuchang was
still the stronghold, {94} and it was from Wuchang, as has been said,
that other places were taking the cue.

At last Yuan saw this.  He also saw that city after city, almost
province after province, was falling into the Revolutionary line, and
he conceived a plan to stop the whole sad business.  He began then to
parley.  He wrote to General Li in most conciliatory terms.[1] {95}
He promised a new Government on constitutional lines; he promised
that the Manchu princedoms should be abolished; he promised free
pardon to all offenders against law and order--he expressed himself
ready to make any concession.  But in his heart he realised that
virtually he was in no position to dictate.  He had to play the
second fiddle, although trying to play thereon the notes of the first.

[Illustration: ESCAPED FROM WUCHANG.  Foreigners taking to the boats
to cross to Hankow after being shut up in Wuchang for many awful
days.]

Li read his communique, smiled, joked about it with his second,
tossed it to the floor, and declared that he would not concede a
fraction.  He did not concede.  He replied that he would not then
talk peace.  Expressing his kindly felicitations, he urged upon Yuan
Shih K'ai the necessity and wisdom of talking terms when the
Revolutionary forces were marching upon Peking--and not before.  He
urged Yuan Shih K'ai to join the Revolutionary party, pointing out
that this would immediately end the strife.  Li Yuan Hung added that
Yuan's previous history was such that no camp would fit him better,
and, if he would come over, he would be made provisional President of
the United States of China.

One must not expect, however, simply because Li would not talk peace
that he was strong enough to enforce peace.  He was not.  As soon as
Li's letter went {96} back to Yuan there was activity in the Imperial
camp, soldiers were to be seen moving away towards Hanyang, batteries
were shifted, trenching went on apace, a pontoon bridge was started
by the Imperialists across the Han and knocked to pieces by the
Hanyang Revolutionary guns, and it seemed as if a battle was
immediately imminent.  And then it commenced again.  One cannot
describe the conditions.  The war was brought to our very doors.
Fellows had bullets whizzing in their bedrooms, shells dropped all
over the Foreign Concessions.  It was never safe to be out on the
Bund or in the roads of the settlement.  Revolutionists were dying in
thousands.  All hospitals were full.  The country was in utter
devastation.

Up to an early hour on November 10th fighting still raged more or
less fiercely.  It was generally stated that the Revolutionists gave
the enemy a thoroughly bad time, and had taken up an advanced
position.  The bombardment of Wuchang was hourly expected.
Immediately behind the British Concession, not more than a hundred
yards from the road dividing British from Chinese territory, three
big guns of the Imperialists had their noses cocked most
threateningly towards the capital city, and every one settled down to
wait.  A peculiar turn of events now was the organisation of night
attacks.  Invariably one's dinner hour was ushered in by the booming
of cannon from either side of the river.  But during these days the
Imperialists again began indubitably to show their superiority as a
fighting force.  The great drawback of the Republican Army was that
it was largely made up of nondescripts, as ignorant of warfare as is
possible to imagine, whilst in the Northern Army there were none but
highly trained men in whom were instilled strongly the absorbing
lessons of the army.  They knew nothing else.  They did nothing else.
They were fighting machines, and they fought on the same principle as
machines in good order work.  In making this {97} statement I am
perfectly aware that there are certain great weaknesses in the
Chinese military organisation that have yet to be removed.  But with
the Northern Army, that army which was founded by Yuan Shih K'ai
himself--and he was looked upon as the greatest military reformer of
the time--it had the minimum of these defects.  The fact that the
army of each province is for all practical purposes a separate body
tells against efficiency.  And it follows that the army that Yuan
created, and which was now mainly engaged in fighting the
Revolutionary enemy, was not so much a branch of the Chinese Army,
but Yuan's Army, moulded as he wanted it.  His soldiers, first of
all, had been taught loyalty.  What other soldiers in the world would
have stood the test of loyalty as did those northern soldiers during
the early days of November, when the only news they received was the
report that a number of cities had gone over to the cause they
themselves were fighting with their lives to quell?

They were primarily loyal--to what, as events later transpired, is
quite another question.  But they were, at any rate, loyal to Yuan.
The photo of Yuan Shih K'ai was in every barrack-room, his name upon
every lip.  Again and again as I moved about among the men was I
impressed with the hero-worship of man towards leader.  Now, in
comparing these armies, one should compare the two Viceroys under
whom they served, for, with the independent provincial armies, the
Viceroy brought his army up to that standard which he considered
best.  That is why the separateness about the branches of China's
Model Army has worked against efficiency.  Any one who knew would be
ready to agree that, side by side and compared as armies, the
Imperialist Army would knock spots off the Revolutionary Army under
equal conditions, whilst the latter would not hit a target once in a
hundred rounds.  But the conditions were not quite equal.  Into the
argument, however, had to be brought another aspect.  That aspect
{98} was of all the most serious, and tended towards the termination
of the war as much as any other factor.  The Imperialists knew now
that, no matter how many battles they would be able to win here, no
matter how great their slaughter of the Revolutionists would be, the
cause of the Revolution was destined to win.  This slowly began to
force itself upon them, and desertions were commonly reported.

Whilst people were talking about the promised bombardment the most
arrant nonsense went the rounds as to the number and the size of the
guns the Imperialists had at their disposal from the north.  There
were twelve-inch howitzers, forty six-inchers, thousands of smaller
fry, such as three and four inch guns, and much more of the same
kind.  Whether just then they had any of their 7.5 Schneider-Canet
guns here no one was in a position to know, but I believe they had
not.  In the Northern Army, however, there were some forty or more of
these enormous guns--weapons so heavy that a team of twelve of the
heaviest American horses would be insufficient to drag one of them.
It is interesting to notice, as an authority recently tells us, in
the Chinese Army there are at least six variety of Krupps, including
1905, 1904, 1888, and 1872 models, with a few 7.5 Japanese guns,
Armstrongs, and Maxims.  But when we come to the smaller arms we find
confusion worse confounded.  There are 1888-model Mausers, 1872-model
Mausers, Mannlichers, and a few Lee-Metfords, and these again have to
be subdivided.  And it was seen throughout this war how the
ammunition for presumably the same gun, captured by the enemy and
used as the same weapon, had been absolutely useless in action; it
wouldn't fit.

The nights were made hideous for foreign residents by the whizzing of
overhead shells and the buzzing of bullets constantly about them.
Several Chinese were shot dead in the streets of the British
Concession, and others more or less seriously wounded, and the wonder
{99} was not that any one was killed but that so many escaped with
their lives in the midst of such danger.  It was the common belief
among the Chinese that the bullets had eyes.  "See," they would yell,
"'tis a heavenly inspiration that the shells do not touch us ... they
have eyes ... they will not strike us!"  And among Revolutionary
admirers this was a common belief of the common people.  They had
never seen modern warfare before.

The Imperialists were now forging ahead towards the Han.  Their task
seemed an altogether impossible one.  It took them three weeks to do
it, and it needed only a stroll out each morning to see the
truckloads of dead being taken along the railway line northward to
realise at what cost their slow progress was being made.  General
Huang Hsuin[2] was now directing military operations against them.
Each day junkloads of men were coming down from Hunan to join the
Revolutionists--trained troops from the Hunan Army--and from them
great things were expected.  Everywhere one went he heard the boom of
cannon, the whizz of shell, the ping of rifle shot.  There was no
escape.  Foreigners were not allowed out of the Concessions, found it
unsafe to go outside their houses, suffered shocks so great that all
were on tenterhooks of excitement.  Never before in any country were
foreigners living as neutral parties to a war so near.  But there is
so much of general interest in the Revolution that much space cannot
be devoted in this volume to battlefield descriptions.  China was
making history.  Wars have often been described in history, but a
Revolution such as this war was heralding had never been known.  It
was moving, and moving at one stroke, a quarter of the whole human
family.

The battlefield was spread from Kilometre Ten to Hanyang on the left
bank of the river, from the Kinshan Forts to Wuchang on the right
side.  One could hardly {100} believe it possible that in a fortnight
such utter devastation could be wrought.  Villages near by, with
their inhabitants either routed or perished in the ruins, were burned
to the ground; fields of crops were all trampled down, rice-beds were
dug out for trenches, and now all was destruction for miles around in
the country.  Little black patches told the sad story of where a band
of happy thriving villagers, once living at peace, was now deserted
and devastated.

When in the early days of the war I used to wander down there and
watch the operations I hardly thought it possible that an army
professedly of forty thousand men could be removed from such an
apparently formidable position.  The railway was at hand, and the
whole of Kilometre Ten was so strategically situated that it seemed
an impossibility for the Imperialists, far away in the middle of flat
country, to remove their enemy from such a strong position.  But they
did.  How and why the Revolutionists left has already been told, and
the commander who ordered the retreat paid the price with his life,
being decapitated by his own men.

Meantime Admiral Sah all this time had been sitting on the fence.  It
was known that Li Yuan Hung, as a younger man, had been a pupil of
the Admiral, and each entertained considerable affection towards the
other.  Sah had declined to reply to Li Yuan Hung's invitation to
take over control and leadership of the Revolution.  He preferred to
sit and wait.  When he received a long communication from the
scholars of Hankow, Hanyang, and Wuchang he is reported to have
become disconcerted, and it is to this appeal, which is given in a
footnote,[3] that his conversion to the Revolutionary cause may be
traced.

{101}

As the Admiral, on November 12th, steamed away his ships were
observed to pull down the Dragon Flag and run up a white one.  It was
taken to mean that the Admiral and his fleet had gone over to the
Revolutionists.


[1] The following is a translation of Yuan Shih K'ai's communication
to General Li:--

"YOUR EXCELLENCY,--I have already written you twice, but, having
received no answer, I am not aware whether the letters reached you or
not.  In accordance with the Imperial instructions I have now to
state that an Edict has been issued offering, first, full pardon for
all past offences; second, that constitutional government will be
established; third, that an amnesty will be granted to political
offenders; fourth, that members of the Imperial Club will not be
employed in high office.

"The above points being granted, in my opinion the government of our
country can be renovated and prosperity be brought back to China.  I
hasten to communicate this to you and desire that a method may be
devised by which the present difficulties may be peacefully settled.
The sooner the war is stopped, the sooner will the people and the
country enjoy peace.  Otherwise, if fighting goes on, whoever is
victorious or whoever is defeated, not only will the people perish
but the resources of the country will be wasted, until, should the
matter be unduly prolonged, affairs will get into such a state that
the country itself will be ruined.  Further, on both sides the
soldiers are Chinese and those who suffer are all Chinese.  Whether
the one side or the other succeeds, it is the Chinese that must foot
the bill.

"Personally I have been a long time dissatisfied with the Government
and therefore went into retirement, never intending to accept office
again.  In leaving my retirement now my only object was to be
instrumental in composing the present differences.  Further, the
Government is now repentant as it never was before.  I admit that but
for your valorous actions, the present proposals would never have
been made.  The merit of them belongs to you, and in my humble
opinion nothing could be better than to take advantage of this
opportunity and, by concluding a peace, secure the realisation of the
Throne's proposals.  We can at least see how the Throne will act,
and, if it is honest, then we will unitedly use our utmost efforts to
promote the reforms.  If it is not honest, we can still in
consultation devise other plans, and, as far as I can see there can
be no failure to secure the full fruition of our hopes.  This is my
view, and I would ask you to send me an answer in agreement with this
so that I may be able to report the matter to the Throne and carry
out the necessary arrangements.

"As regards your associates, who are all men of great ability, not
only will no fault be found with them, but I can guarantee they will
be appointed to high positions to assist in carrying out the reforms.
The Throne trusts me as one whose word can be relied on, and you
also, I hope, believe that I would on no account go back on it with
respect with you and your associates.  I understand that the Throne
is issuing another Edict which will reach you within a few days.  I,
because of the many important affairs which I cannot venture to
neglect, would urge you to send me an early answer by the hand of the
bearer of this letter.

"This is my respectful prayer.  Wishing you peace and prosperity."

[2] General Huang Hsuin was a famous military leader in China at this
time.

[3] The following is a translation of an appeal to Admiral Sah by the
students of Hanyang, Wuchang, and Hankow:--

"SIR,--To such a person as Admiral Sah with world-wide fame and noble
principles, we humbly submit this letter to him asking him to read it
and consider it with patience and wisdom.  China is now in a critical
position.  The people have shown great enthusiasm and determination
for the overthrow of the Manchu yoke and to gain back their
independence.  But the Manchus are sure to oppose the cause of the
people, so war is inevitable.  But is there no way to avert it?  Is
there no way to save the lives and property of millions of people?
Yes, there is, and that way is to be decided by you alone.  To speak
plainly, the salvation of the people depends upon whether you will
join General Li to help in the present operations of the Republican
Army.  Suppose you do not join the Republicans, they are determined
not to submit, but to continue the fight until they have gained their
liberty or met their fate.  The word Revolution can never be effaced
from the minds of Chinese, and there could be no hope for peace.
What a horrible thing it will be if you would refuse to join and
remain indifferent.  On the other hand, if you join them after the
perusal of this letter, things can be settled easily and quietly.
There will be no civil war along the Yangtze Valley.  All that our
brethren will have to do is to march northward to Peking and take
over the control of our Empire from the Manchus.  Our Kingdom will be
managed by our own people.  What a noble heroic and patriotic work
you so great a man have to do for the independence of our country.
On the brink of joining the Republicans perhaps you will be doubting
the behaviour of the soldier.  We can assure you that it is noble and
righteous.  How they have been well treating their brethren and
friendly in protecting foreigners is a thing which has never appeared
in our history during the time of civil war.  All our brethren here
have shown their intense enthusiasm in offering assistance to the
Republican Army and sharing their sympathy with the cause.  Foreign
settlements have approved their action, recognised their right and
yield to their reasonable demands.  This bears an evident witness
that they are not rebels of any kind, but the Army of the sacred
salvation of four hundred millions of their brethren in China.
Again, Sir, perhaps you will hesitate to join the Republicans when
you think it ungrateful to turn disloyal to the Manchus, and it might
be that you will think you have derived much benefit from the
Manchus, but, Sir, the benefit which seems to be derived from them is
in reality obtained indirectly from the Han people, who are the
source of all wealth, prosperity and official honour.  Moreover, your
duty, Sir, is to profit the many, not the few, to save the people,
not to destroy them, to help your own race and not the alien, and to
stand by the righteous and not by the wicked.  The Manchurian yoke
has been the barrier against the growth and development of the Han
people.  It is the Manchus who would not send many students abroad at
an earlier date in order to acquire Western civilisation and
education.  It is the Manchus who will not put the returned students
into proper position.  It was the Manchu that roused the Boxer
Revolt, which has weakened the Empire and made it poor.  And it is
the Manchus who are misappropriating the loans raised from Foreign
Powers.  They have squandered the funds from the imposition of taxes
for their private sensual pleasures, such as the construction of
parks and the building of beautiful residences.  They have encouraged
squeezes, practised villainies, sold offices and brevet ranks, and
demoralised the Customs.  They have decided cases unjustly, and what
not?

"Therefore, Admiral, we appeal to your general sympathy and wisdom
and plead for the safety and welfare of four hundred million souls
for the free growth and development of the Chinese, who, if allowed
to be free, are bound to make a wonderful contribution that will go
to enrich the civilisation of the whole world.  If you would disarm
your gunboats and cruisers and steam up to Hankow, all the people in
these three cities will be enraptured to welcome you with wild
enthusiasm and intense honour."




{102}

[Transcriber's note: In the source book, this page contained the
final portion of what is now this chapter's footnote 3.]




{103}

CHAPTER X

LI YUAN HUNG SEEKS PEACE

"Don't hesitate--act!" wrote Li Yuan Hung to Yuan Shih K'ai, in a
most stirring appeal to Yuan to join the Revolutionary party.  Yuan
had been, as ever, as hard as adamant.  He now claimed to have an
army twenty-four thousand strong at his disposal.  Li claimed to have
at least forty thousand of all sorts, trained and untrained.  Li was
in a conciliatory mood.  Yuan was suffering from a peculiar "sense
of" omnipotence that had attacked him ever since his return to
office.  "Since the slaughter of the reformers," wrote Li Yuan Hung
to his adversary, "the Government has continually promised to
establish constitutional rule and to bring forward the date for the
calling of the first Parliament, but its promises have come to
naught.  The assassination of Erh Ming and Fuchi, the attempt to
destroy the vice-regal yamen at Canton with a bomb, and the mutiny at
Nanking were all bloody protests against the Manchu monarchy, but all
failed to induce the Throne to do more than issue edicts full of
promises.  Everything remains as it was.  The Manchu Government has
tried various tricks to gain a hold on the people's hearts.  But it
has no real intention of altering the system of government.  Turn
your eyes towards those who are presidents of the various boards and
viceroys and governors of provinces, and you will see that all the
principal posts are occupied by Manchus.  What an insignificant part
the Chinese have played in politics!  The national {104} treasury,
and the national army are the foundations of the Empire, and both are
in the grasp of ignorant, childish Manchus.  Surely you cannot bear
with composure to see the property and lives of four hundred millions
of Chinese wasted by a mere handful of Manchus."

The letter continued: "Are you not the most famous and most able man
among the Chinese?  Have you forgotten that, after you had been
relieved of your command of the northern troops and your political
influence had been weakened, you narrowly escaped being murdered as
well as cashiered?  All this is evidence of the Manchu's jealousy of
the Chinese.  Since Hupeh was made independent, many other provinces
have joined the cause with heart and soul.  The Manchu Government has
fallen into a swoon and can no longer stand by its own strength.  So
it is trying the scheme by which it quelled the Taiping
rebellion--using Chinese to kill Chinese.  If you are willing to be
reinstated on such a commission, then you have superhuman patience.

"In your dispatch you state emphatically that the Government must be
constitutional.  In reply I wish to explain that in this age, whether
a government be monarchical or republican, it must ultimately be
founded on constitutionalism, and there is little difference between
a republic and a constitutional monarchy.  The form of the new
government will be settled in the conference of delegates from the
various provinces.  Whatever form it takes, it will not violate
constitutionalism.  It is generally agreed among the people that the
Manchus must not be allowed to have any voice in this conference.  If
we had agreed to your terms, had you any means of compelling the
Manchu Government to fulfil its promises?

"For you to live in retirement for your own enjoyment as you have
done is of no benefit to China.  The success of the present movement
has come by the {105} strength not of man but of God.  What man could
convert Szechuan, Kiangsi, Anhui, Kiangsu, Kwangtung, Kwangsi,
Yunnan, Kweichow, Shansi, and Shensi to republicanism?  Besides all
the gunboats and torpedo destroyers have turned revolutionary.  There
is no Manchu force to hinder us from marching on Peking with the
exception of your little army.  The renaissance of the Chinese and
the maintenance of China's sovereignty depend on you.  If you are
really in sympathy with the Chinese, you should take your opportunity
to turn Republican with your troops and attack Peking.  If you are
hankering after the dignities and honours that the Manchu Government
may confer, then you should pray that the revolutionary army may
hasten its march to the Yellow River.  For, when the Manchus see that
they cannot withstand the revolutionary advance, they will give you
all the higher honours to induce you to fight for them.  If we should
yield now, it is to be feared that the honours bestowed on you would
vanish in a few days.  Remember the proverb, 'When the rabbits are
caught the hounds are cooked.'  Your merit would be so great that you
would not avoid jealousy, and your power would make you liable to
constant suspicion.  It would be impossible for you to retire again
to Changtehfu.  I would remind you that the Empress Dowager is still
living and that she will never forgive the slaughter of the
reformers.  Consider if there is any affection between yourself and
the Manchus.  All of us, working together can complete the
emancipation of the Chinese, and none of us are willing to continue
under the rule of the Manchus.

"As to your suggestion that foreign Powers may seize this opportunity
of bringing about the partition of China we have read many articles
from foreign papers, and we feel sure that none of them will do us
any harm during our civil war.  We have learned from a wireless
telegram to a certain gentleman that {106} Peking is in great
agitation and that the young Emperor has fled.  Should this be true,
the ruling race has already lost its dignity and has no right to
present our territory to any foreign Power.

"It is reported that the Manchu Government has recalled you.  If that
is so, I offer two suggestions for your consideration.  First: It may
be that the Government suspects your loyalty and intends by recalling
you to deprive you of your military authority; in that case, you may
disobey the summons by virtue of the military rule that a general
need not obey an imperial edict when he is on service abroad.
Second: If Peking is actually in a critical condition--I must tell
you a story.  During the Boxer rising, when the international force
entered Peking, they summoned Li Hung-chang.  That was an opportunity
for Li to become Emperor.  But he was stubborn and lost the chance.
You may learn from his experience.  Mencius said that a man with
complete education will protect the people.  I am but a military man
and do not know much.  I have learned largely from Mencius, so that I
have no desire except to protect the people.  It is believed that
your experience and ability are much higher than mine.  Yet I am
sorry for you that you have to consider things so very long before
you can make up your mind.  Remember that we should not hesitate or
delay in doing what is benevolent or righteous.  We should do the
right thing at once.

"All the brethren of this land are waiting for you.  Do not face me
any longer with a mask."

* * * * *

This was Li Yuan Hung's last appeal to Yuan.  All along Li had been
anxious to avoid further bloodshed, but it soon became evident that
the fight was to be to the bitter end.  So after that short-lived
lull, foreigners, with their trade quite paralysed, settled down
again for war.  About the Concessions, in the clubs, {107} in the
houses, in the godowns, wherever foreigners congregated there was a
feeling of deadening suspense hanging over all.  That something
terrible was about to happen every one agreed, but what no one cared
to guess.  In the native city, what of it was left, the abject
desolation which the charred ruins and half-burned-up streets and
shops presented to one, where a cold and hungry lot of people were
endeavouring all too vainly to revivify trade, sunk into one's very
being.  One was glad, if he thus unwisely ventured far from the
Concessions, to get back again and to walk along the Bund and look
out over the unruffled river and hope for better times to come.
There was no shipping, no life, no trade.  The Concessions were in
practically a state of siege, and all were waiting--for what, again,
we knew not.  All that one had to trouble about was the time that the
mails closed and the time the boats were going down-river.

The Imperialists now commenced to draw a cordon around the city of
Hankow.  They were busy trenching, were busy building up their
batteries on the plains from the end of the Sing Sien Road to the
banks of the Han, the way to cross which they could not easily
determine.  No one was allowed out of the city or into the city
unless he had his pass and could give reasonable cause for wanting to
go either way.  Every man, woman, or child without a pass was cruelly
turned back, often with a thrust of the bayonet as a warning not to
attempt it again.  Foreigners who ventured out of the Concessions
were deliberately shot at.

On November 13th the heaviest bombardment that had yet taken place
started suddenly in the late afternoon, but for some time it was a
puzzle whether it was meant to be a bombardment of the British
Concession or of Hankow native city and Wuchang opposite.  Shells
were dropping quite as often in British as in Chinese territory.  The
night was drenching and dreary.  Rain {108} poured down and
overflowed the flat battlefield behind the Concessions and the native
city, and the luck of the Imperialists seemed out.  Their spirits in
the circumstances were damped by the weather, and the fight they were
putting up against the high-spirited Hunanese, now augmenting the
Revolutionary forces to the tune of fifteen thousand men, was but
weak and half-hearted.  The shells could be heard in the peculiar
atmospheric deadness, which the forsaken appearance of the river
seemed to accentuate, sailing through the air above our heads, the
excited natives would yell and swear that they could see them and
that they were coming directly to the spot where we were watching in
the rain, and then would scamper off.  Far away in the Concessions
people were wondering why the Revolutionists had started shelling the
British.  Now the trouble seemed to have come indeed, and many wished
they had left the port when they had the chance.  Holes were being
knocked through heavy walls, shells dropped in the roadway, in
people's gardens, in people's bedrooms.  A Russian naval officer, in
a sick-bed in the Roman Catholic Hospital, wishing that he were well
to watch the bombardment, lay probing for the reason the
Revolutionists had taken this dislike to the British, and wondering
what would happen after the British gunboats had smashed up the
place.  He could find no satisfactory reason.  But suddenly this
naval officer heard a crash; like a bolt of lightning a shell had
entered the window; he felt the plaster of the walls striking him on
the body as he lay there stupefied, watching the ceiling then falling
in.  It was the thirteenth shell that had come into the hospital
compound since the war started, and over it waved peacefully the Red
Cross flag.

In the London Mission Hospital, not far away, a shell came through an
open window, hitting nothing but landing in the yard.  The Mitsui
Bussan Kaisha {109} shipping manager was looking up at his building
and wondering what damage one shell had done as it struck and
shattered some masonry and woodwork, but he found it wise to move,
for another shell suddenly landed not twelve yards from him, tore an
ugly hole in the roadway, and then feebly burst against the walls.
On the British gunboats lying in the river they had got used to
seeing shells fall short in the river, but one of the fellows on
H.M.S. _Woodcock_, in giving impressive vent to his low opinion of
the Revolutionary shelling, explained to me that he didn't mind the
shells so much, but just at the moment when one broke he was sitting
on the deck reading a book which had been loaned to him; the
splashing of the water had spoiled the book, for a shell dropped not
three feet from the bow!  Fellows would come running in telling how
they had seen shells bursting all along the streets in the British
Concession, and as evidence thereof would draw huge pieces from their
pockets, "all hot" as they would declare.  So this continued hotly
for a couple of hours.  The Imperialists at the back, with their
three big guns on Coffin Hill (a mound at the back of the British
Concession), did their best to quiet the enemy, but their efforts at
getting rid of the shells were about one in six.  That the
Revolutionists were in great form was manifest at once by the work
they were doing, but their shells did far more damage to foreign
property than to their enemy's ranks; but although the time had
surely come when the British authorities should have made a
determined effort to stop this sort of thing nothing was enforced.

Thus the battle continued for four days.  The heaviest artillery work
went on from all directions, but the heavy rains interfered with
infantry work.  The cannonading was desperate.  At night, in the
dense darkness, the scene was intensely fascinating.  One, two,
three, four guns would send out their tiny flames from one spot all
in a heap; this would be followed {110} by a heavier gun, with its
brighter flash momentarily lighting up the whole vicinity, the
peculiar whistle of the threatening bomb would come nearer and
nearer, and all the time one's fascination was hampered by this
menace.  Not often is it that foreigners in a strange land have war
brought to their very rooftops to watch.  But such was the case now,
and from flat roofs foreigners in small parties breathlessly watched
the proceedings.  Over the country, among the plains and the lagoons,
one could hear rifle-firing, and knew that somewhere in the dark
Chinese were doing their best to lay low Chinese, but where no one
could say.  In the face of awful riflery the Revolutionists succeeded
in crossing the Han, recaptured Chiaokow, which had been a stronghold
of the enemy for some days, and were bringing a battery of field-guns
near to the Chinese Racecourse, where their enemy had been strongly
entrenched awaiting the assault, and working meantime towards the
Han.  After having captured Chiaokow, the Revolutionists fortified a
well-covered spot with three three-inchers, and began pounding away
whilst the Sing Seng Road Imperialist battery did some excellent
shelling of the Racecourse (Chinese), which they had lost to the
enemy.  Heavy reinforcements then were sent outflanking widely,
whilst the Revolutionists endeavoured to cross over and cut them off.
Those days were devilish days.  Such heavy infantry, at a range of a
hundred yards or so, each opposing line fighting with its very
lifeblood to force back the enemy, could never have happened anywhere
but in China.  The ring of the Maxim was a constant sound, and the
stream of bleeding wounded constantly in the Foreign Concessions told
only too sadly of the heavy losses incurred to both armies.  And
after all the net result of each day's fighting seemed to be of no
advantage to either force.

The most thrilling incident of the war took place on November 19th.
Because we have been repeatedly {111} told that the Chinese are
cowards, we Westerners have come to look on them as a half-hearted
sort of fighters.  Some decades ago people used to think the same of
the Japanese, but, equally as they showed us through their war with
Russia that their courage merely lay dormant, so the Chinese
constantly showed us throughout this war of the Revolution that their
courage was as great and as unflinching as one could imagine in any
people.

Those who had been watching closely had seen some wonderful examples
of heroism, not only by the soldiery but private citizens had shown
splendid heroism in many ways and devotedness to a cause they thought
worthy of fighting for.

Many of the Imperialists were said to be fighting merely because some
of their favourite officers were commanding them, and in the killing
of a general on the field I personally saw no less than four men shot
dead on the spot as they went forward two by two to bring him in
under cover.  All through this war many cases of exceptional bravery
came under my notice, giving one cause to credit the Chinese with
greater patriotism than is wont to be given them, and altering
altogether the general impression that the Chinese as a people are
cowards.  This crowning piece of bravery, to which nothing else in
the campaign can in any way compare, took place on November 19th, and
will long be remembered by the thick line of Europeans and Chinese
who had flocked to the Bund to watch the Chinese naval movement.  For
some days there had been talk that the Chinese Fleet had turned over
their lot with the Revolutionists, and when in the morning its smoke
was seen on the skyline and every one strained his eyes to see where
they would go and what they would do, each having his own particular
theory as to the probabilities of the day, it was an anxious time,
for so much seemed to hang on the movements of the navy.  During the
whole of the {112} morning the two cruisers and one torpedo-boat lay
at anchor, neither interfering or being interfered with.  Their smoke
funnels in the haze certainly showed that they were there; but as to
what the programme was no one knew, and towards midday one began to
doubt what they would do, and whether actually they had come to fight
for the Revolutionists or against them.

Upon the navy in the first great engagement at Kilometre Ten lay the
honours of the day, for no man could stand against its guns, and all
knew that the side to be pounded were in for an extremely heavy
bombardment, which would probably easily spell the total failure of
the enemy.  Therefore, when the big two-funnelled _Hai Yung_ raised
anchor about two o'clock and began majestically to steam full speed
up-river, it was not curious to find every one tiptoeing in
expectancy.  What was she going to do?  Was she drawing up nearer to
bombard Wuchang or was she coming peacefully away to be fired upon by
the strong Loyalist battery on the Kilometre Ten line?  Slowly she
came at first, then steamed full away.  Through my glasses I could
see her flag--the Revolutionary flag--yet when she came within the
battery's firing-line no guns were opened upon her.  The Imperial
gunners could be seen watching her movements through their glasses,
as on she steamed close in to the Wuchang side.  Gradually she came
proudly abreast of the Kinshan forts, then farther up, and farther,
until at last she was abreast of the Japanese Bund line, and out of
danger.  Certainly it seemed strange that the Imperialists did not
attempt to shell her; but they didn't, and away she went up past
Wuchang, dipping to the foreign gunboats, and above the Concessions
turned to rest.  Meantime the other cruiser had cleared off
down-river, and all that remained was the solitary torpedo-boat.  It
was now her turn, and she, thinking that the larger boat had found no
opposition, evidently expected to sail up {113} clear too.  But she
had misreckoned, for as soon as she began to steam the Royalists
opened furiously upon her.

Shell after shell from the three-inch guns were poured around her,
shells dropping about her as peas would drop if one threw a handful
in the air, and she seemed doomed.  But in the thick of the
batteries, within excellent range, with no cover and no hope of
getting clear, she had nothing to do but to keep ahead; and this she
did as hard as her panting engines would take her.  As hard as coal
would steam her she steamed, and for the quarter of an hour during
which she was under fire nothing nobler could be imagined than the
behaviour of her crew as they brought her up.  In front of her,
behind her, falling short of her, shooting far over her came the
shells at the rate of one in three seconds; they whistled around her,
some hit her minor deckwork and glanced into the water; one was seen
to hit her square on the bows, another hit her aft and damaged her
steam gear; but, fleeing from what seemed her death-trap, she steamed
desperately on.  On the Bund the Chinese watched in bewilderment.
Such a thing they had never seen before.  Some of them were looking
on a Chinese torpedo-boat in action for the first time, and a grunt
of keenest satisfaction went up as she came abreast of foreign
territory and the Imperial guns ceased fire.  All the time, however,
the Kinshan forts, at equally rapid a rate as the Kilometre Ten
battery, kept up the return bombardment upon the Imperial base, and
there must have been some heavy damage--what it was impossible to
tell.

But now the torpedo is up opposite the Concessions, and, slowing
down, seems to take breath before she puts in alongside the shore and
drops anchor for a time.  The crew tend their wounded comrades, the
hilarious men shout and yell and tell each other how it was done, and
urge each other on with patriotic sentiment.

{114}

It was a magnificent piece of work--quite remarkable in its way, for
at the point where she was hugging the Wuchang shore there is an
exceptionally strong current running, so that her difficulties were
thus considerably increased.  Foreign naval men who watched the
cannonading declared that they had never witnessed anything quite so
courageous, and as one gazed on it the fact that China is a peculiar
country and the people a peculiar people was slowly borne in upon one
as he realised that all this bravery was being put forward by men who
a month ago had fought against the cause to which they were now so
faithfully espoused.  What the mission of the armoured cruiser, still
lying farther up the river, might have been I do not know, but she
was now seen to move and make for down-river again, and one fancied
that one could see anger writ large upon her iron sides.  Quickly I
doubled to take up a position on the top of a huge heap of coal,
below the Concessions, from which I had a commanding view of the
river and the whole of Kilometre Ten Station.  Down came the cruiser
close inshore on the Hankow side, and it seemed curious that she
should have come so close.  Down she came in a businesslike fashion,
seeming to gird herself for the onslaught.  Every one held his
breath.  Foreign men-of-warsmen admired all that she was doing, and
the gunners on board were itching to open fire.  As soon as she
dropped down beyond the Concessions they did open, and then, as
quickly as one could count, she fired her six big guns--four six-inch
bore.  The first two shells dropped bang inside the station at
Kilometre Ten, the next three fell in among the battery on the
foreshore, the next few--they came so quick that I lost count--set
some buildings burning.  The Imperial batteries, with indomitable
bravado, returned as briskly as they could.  The Kinshan forts sent
over strong cross-fires.  On farther went the _Hai Yung_, seeming
like a big brother to tell the Imperialists that her little brother
had been hit and now her turn had {115} come to do the hitting.  And
this she certainly did.  Whether she hit the things she aimed at I do
not know, but I know that she literally rained in shells among the
enemy's batteries.

In the deepening half-light the flashes brilliantly lit up the deck,
and as the bursting shells dropped they lit up the yellow of the
water with a peculiar grotesqueness.  Over the head of the cruiser
came shells from Kinshan, and with the _Hai Yung_ shelling as fast as
she could discharge her guns, with the Imperial three-inchers working
as hard as the men could work them, and the Revolutionary battery
over across sending shells from four guns, and each party fired with
that spirit which in war makes men work with superhuman activity, it
may well be imagined that the triple bombardment was something that
had never been seen in the Yangtze Valley before.  Chinese were
jumping with excitement the whole way along the Bund, and the Sabbath
peace was broken by a scene which will long remain vividly in the
memories of those fortunate enough to be on the spot at the time.  As
for myself, my position on the coalheap was as good as it was
possible to get.  I was anxious to get down to Kilometre Ten to see
what damage had been done, but I was informed that on no
consideration whatever would any foreigner be allowed outside the
barrier.  Another engagement was expected that night, the guard told
me, and so I came away.  Meantime the _Hai Yung_ had dropped
down-river out of the range of the Imperialist guns, where she still
pounded away with shells that fell in the vicinity of the station.
The reason that she had been allowed to come up-river unmolested was
because the Imperialists had not recognised her flag, mistaking her
for a foreign man-of-war.  When the darkness came on and the
flashlights from the warships lit up the Concessions and the
surrounding neighbourhood, it was slowly borne in upon one that the
Chinese War of the Revolution was by no means {116} overpast.
Fighting in the land lines continued all night.

* * * * *

During these days Li Yuan Hung remained at Wuchang; here drilling was
going on feverishly.  There was organising and preparing for the
great effort which was to strike at the central stronghold of the
Imperialists.  But in Li's heart there was the hope still that Yuan
would show a more reasonable front.  I was in close touch with Li
about this time.  Every one who saw him daily, looked upon a man,
definite to a degree in aim and purpose, free from
self-aggrandisement and selfishness in any form.  His aim first and
last was to uplift his country, to win the throne for the Han people,
and to work with all his might for the downfall of Manchu rule, for
by that alone, he believed, could China forge ahead as such a mighty
nation deserved and as her brightest sons desired that she should.
And now, although others declared that in the new Republican party
there would be dissension and strife when the Government were brought
down to a concrete basis, General Li Yuan Hung declared that he had
sufficient faith in the cause to believe that all his political
associates, far from desiring personal benefit, would readily concede
the highest positions to the men best fitted to fill them.  That was
the keynote of Li Yuan Hung's popularity; he believed in the cause,
and he had faith in his supporters.  When at the start he refused to
take the lead, and, essentially Chinese, tried all sorts of schemes
to test the safety of his position, he nobly declared what his policy
whilst in office would be.  He declared that he would set out to
work, at all costs and no matter what the personal consequences, for
a course that would be straight and true for China and the Chinese.

He declared his ambition would first be concentrated in the
overthrowing of the Manchus; what subsequently {117} would be his
course was to be decided mainly by the trend of resulting
circumstances.  At the gathering of the officers of the Revolutionary
party, who were anxious to make him their leader, I do not think
there was a single man present, even Liu King, who, looking into the
future as far as he then could see, thought that in less than a month
this Japanese-trained officer of the Hupeh Army, with nothing about
him to strike one that he was a born leader of men, would have come
to the very forefront of the platform of the political world.  Liu
King certainly did not believe Li Yuan Hung had so much in him.

It was believed--was there one foreigner in the three cities here who
thought otherwise at the very start of the outbreak?--that the
Revolution would break out, that the Imperial Army would come down in
great force and massacre every manjack in the Revolutionary Army, and
that that would be the end of it all.  At the start there were so
many thousands, not only in this centre but throughout the Empire,
who were merely neutral, who were sitting on the fence, prepared to
dive down either side at the moment it paid them to take the dive.
But the men of the Revolutionary Army were confident.  The units of
the army knew that they had Li at the head, they knew that Li had
always had the name of being the best man in the Hupeh Model Army,
although he was not in supreme command, and they were content to
fight under him.  There was in all circles, however, except the
military circle, a good deal of scepticism.  Every one was on the
look-out for sensations.  No one knew what would happen, and no one
cared to guess.  But behind it all stood Li, looking on and seeing
all.  He had sworn allegiance to his party, and he expected his party
to stand by him.  He was the man who believed in the scheme he was
prepared to pull through, and he believed in the men who were pulling
with him.  Yuan Shih K'ai doubted him, his ability, his political
party, and thought them a set of upstarts.  {118} Therefore was it
that he would not listen to their talk, and took their pleading with
him to join their party as a sign of weakness.  But Yuan, though he
had made few political mistakes himself, never committed a bigger
blunder than this.  For the time he was prepared to hold aloof, and
to fight on still, rather than take the cue of his adversary in
battle and give up fighting for a lost cause.

The situation as it concerned foreigners in the Concessions was now
most acute.  Everybody was abusing the Consuls.  Around the
Concessions, mad with rage and neither side entertaining any
bewildering affection for foreigners, were sixty thousand troops.
The French community, tired of talking, so it seemed, took the bull
by the horns and wired to the French Government over the head of
their Consul, and that the same spirit actuated the greater part of
the international population here will be judged from what comes
hereafter.  The French residents telegraphed from Hankow to Paris as
follows:--


    "French colony and others under the jurisdiction of the French
    consulate request me to ask you to communicate the following to
    the Minister of Foreign Affairs: We consider that we are now in a
    critical situation.  In consequence of the departure of cruisers,
    the international landing force is reduced to five hundred
    marines.  We are surrounded by sixty thousand belligerents.  All
    is to be feared from the Imperialist troops if abandoned to
    themselves, or undisciplined Revolutionary troops.  We are at the
    mercy of every anti-foreign movement.  Insist on immediate
    dispatch of troops from Tientsin or Tonking."


A week previous a message was sent from Hankow by a high British
authority--to be fair to the British Acting Consul-General, he did
not know that the message was sent away--telling the world that with
us all was well, and the next week the French people here wired to
their Government, ignoring the representative here of the French
nation, asking that troops be sent forthwith.  Throughout the war up
to the present time {119} the Concessions had been sufficiently
manned with troops to prevent an onslaught by either army.  When the
first big battle started there seemed to be excellent defence as the
situation then was, but, whilst the scene of action was moving
constantly down at the back of the Concessions towards the native
city and danger each day becoming greater, no one believed it
possible that the Consular Body were taking no steps to ensure
efficient protection of foreign subjects and their interests here.
When the Loyalist big guns were at the back of the Concession
(British as they continued up to the taking of Hanyang) not until the
local Press drew forceful attention to the fact that the British
Acting Consul-General owed it to the British community to get the
guns removed, and thus save the returning fire of the enemy being
drawn into the Concession, was there any action taken.  Again and
again was indignation shown at the "face" the British were losing
with the Chinese over the matter; but it seemed not to disturb
consular authorities.  Protest was made--once only, I believe--and
the promise then was given that the guns should be shifted.  But the
promise was broken, and for weeks one heard the constant boom of the
biggest gun the Imperialists had with them pounding away not three
hundred yards from the British Concession border, in precisely the
same position as the Loyalist officers promised King George's
representative it should be shifted from.  And in addition to that,
on November 17th they again took up their old position with a battery
at Tachimen, from which position they were also asked to remove, thus
having wilfully ignored all British requests.

A study of the map of the field will show immediately that the
position of the Concessions was, to say the least, eminently
dangerous.  The main battery behind the Concessions had guns pointing
towards Wuchang, naturally drawing the Wuchang fire, shells from
which dropped more often {120} in the Concession than out of it when
the aim was taken for Coffin Hill battery; it also had guns pointing
to Hanyang, drawing that return fire, which had the gravest
probability of falling over the Concession border.  I should think
that a mild estimate of shells dropped in the Concessions during that
week would be one hundred.  But there was another danger: in their
flanking movement the Revolutionists were endeavouring to shell the
Coffin Hill battery, meaning at once that their shells were fired,
not by the sides of the Concessions but bang into them.  There was
another danger still: the Imperialists, if they were driven back,
would undoubtedly make for the Concessions, and flee through them.
"It's not human nature," as the British Acting-Consul said a day or
two before to a British subject, "to expect the Revolutionists not to
chase them."

It may easily be left to the reader to answer for himself whether a
complement of five hundred troops--the maximum of a defence force
that could be mustered from the gunboats that moment in the
port--could hold the port against this grave possibility.  It was
surely not too much for international subjects to ask of their
Consuls that troops be sent for and that a fair defence scheme be
inaugurated forthwith for the protection of their lives and their
property.  Again, however, I should like to say that I am not writing
in any carping spirit.  I am among those who, far from anathematising
or criticising, and remembering that it is the easiest thing in the
world to ridicule, realise that at such times of crisis in China each
Consul should be supported by every loyal subject.  But it certainly
seemed to me that the consular body--not one individual only, but the
whole body--by its continued inaction rendered foreigners in Hankow a
bad account of what they were there for.  One could easily write up
what the soldiery might have done if they once had run riot in the
Concession, and such an eventuality {121} to those who know their
China is not without the range of what easily could have transpired;
but it would be sensational and probably useless.

Now, when the French residents of Hankow telegraphed to Paris
demanding that troops be sent forthwith from Tientsin or Tonking
hands went up in horror that French consular control had so far got
into disrepair as to bring about such a step.  But when the British
residents almost immediately followed suit it became patent that the
situation was serious.  Foreigners from the Japanese Concession
(farthest removed from the native city of Hankow) to the British
Concession (divided from the city by a thirty-foot road) were just
then in greater direct danger than they had been since the campaign
started.  Five weeks had now elapsed since the war started, and on
November 18th I think I am right in saying that not one-half of the
protecting force was in the port, at the zenith of the danger, that
was available a week after the Revolution broke out.  That five
hundred men available from all gunboats in port, with the Japanese
largely preponderating, were enough to protect a settlement of
approximately rectangular shape, four miles by one, was absurd on the
very face of things.  Four thousand men from all nations represented
would not have been too many at that time.  When hostilities were
being carried on immediately outside the Concessions, when every day
a man was shot fatally or wounded seriously in the streets of the
British Concession, when shells dropped with startling rapidity into
private houses and broke up the property of British residents, when
the gravest danger was incurred by walking along the waterfront which
extends the whole length of the Concession, when all shipping had to
withdraw from the usual landing hulks, and when the official protests
to remove the batteries from dangerous proximity back of the
Concessions and so cause shelling over the foreign settlement to
cease was persistently refused, surely, {122} again, it was not too
much to expect that the authorities were making due arrangements for
troops to be sent to Hankow to prevent what every one undertook to
believe would be inevitable--namely, the rushing through the
Concessions of the enemy and the chasing of them by the victorious
faction.  The whole thing culminated on November 18th, when a meeting
of British subjects was held.  The following dispatch was the result
of a long discussion on the general situation and what was best to be
done:--


    "HERBERT GOFFE, Esq., H.B.M. Acting Consul-General, Hankow.

    "SIR,--We the undersigned British residents beg respectfully that
    you will forward the following protest to His Majesty's Minister
    with a request that it be forwarded to the proper authorities:

    1. "The _London and China Express_ of October 20 says, It is
    officially stated that the policy of Great Britain in the present
    situation in China will be limited to taking every means
    considered necessary for the protection of the lives and the
    property of her nationals.'

    "Whilst adequate protection had apparently been afforded to
    British subjects in Tientsin and Shanghai, in our opinion the
    reverse was the case in Hankow.  This is proved by the fact that
    at the time when the British Vice-Admiral himself was in chief
    command of all forces at Hankow, his own sailors, and the local
    Volunteers and Police were insufficient properly to guard the
    British Concession, and the kind assistance of the Germans,
    Japanese, French, and Austrians was accepted.  Since then the
    situation had become infinitely more dangerous, and it was found
    that protection was reduced absolutely to a minimum and the force
    of British gunboats was just what foreigners were accustomed to
    see in port in normal times.  This argues that the situation was
    wrongly gauged by those in authority, and if information which
    was at their disposal had been obtained or listened to, this
    should not have occurred.

    2. "We protest against the action taken by the authorities in
    forwarding a wireless message to Shanghai on or about the 17th
    November stating that "there had been no fighting here for some
    days," and "that business was being resumed," as reported in the
    _North China Daily News_ of the 9th November and the _Shanghai
    Mercury_ of 8th November respectively.  Our reasons for so doing
    are that both statements are untrue, and that by sending such a
    message they have caused endless ill-feeling to the British Flag
    and disgust at an action which causes women and children to
    return here when it is undoubtedly {123} unsafe for them to do
    so.  So far from there being no fighting, fighting of a desultory
    nature and sniping have continued ever since the main action, on
    the 27th-28th October, and numerous bullets and shells continue
    daily to fall into the Concession.  Although foreigners have so
    far escaped, numbers of Chinese in the Concession have been
    killed or wounded, and property damaged.  As regards business
    being resumed, it has been at a standstill since the Revolution
    started.

    3. "With the ordinary telegraphic communication completely cut
    off, we protest against the Admiralty regulations which do not
    allow the forwarding of important non-service messages by
    wireless for British subjects in circumstances of this
    description.  On several occasions messages refused by
    Vice-Admiral Winsloe have been courteously received and
    dispatched by wireless by the German Admiral.  We consider that
    these protests are only right and just, as we cannot for a minute
    believe that His Majesty's Government know the true state of
    affairs, and that in the present crisis British prestige and
    British interests have been sadly neglected.  Finally, although
    this is hardly within the province of the British residents of
    Hankow, we would like to point out that at the present moment
    Ichang and Changsha are equally ill-protected.  The urgent
    necessity for the dispatch of troops to this port is emphasised
    by the fact that heaviest fighting is now taking place and shells
    are bursting over our heads.  The situation is most critical, and
    it is sincerely to be hoped that not only the British
    authorities, but the American, the German, the French, and
    Russian Consular bodies will see to it that as many gunboats as
    can reasonably be spared from the China squadrons be brought here
    at once.  The Japanese, the only other nation having a
    Concession, may be relied upon to leave nothing undone."


[Illustration: TOMMY ATKINS ON GUARD.  A detachment of the Yorkshire
Light Infantry protecting the Foreign Settlement at Hankow.]

The following telegram was authorised to be sent to the British
Minister at Peking and the Foreign Office:---


    "Mass meeting British residents Hankow considers battalion
    urgently necessary protection British Concession--Pearce,
    Chairman."


A similar telegram was authorised to be sent to the China Association
in London, asking the Association to urge the Government to send the
help asked for.  There were ninety-five British residents present at
the meeting.

* * * * *

Comment upon the foregoing would only be odious {124} just now.  By
reproducing the correspondence, however, the reader will be able to
ascertain the feelings of the British community when such persistent
official indolence continued.  Had the armies got out of hand, there
might have been a much sadder story to tell.

[Illustration: THE SKETCH MAP OF THE BATTLEFIELDS.]


    It is necessary, in presenting the accompanying sketch map of the
    battlefields, to give some concise information descriptive of the
    sketch.  The following written by my friend Mr. Stanley V. Boxer,
    B.Sc., will therefore be found of especial interest:--

    "The first battle of any importance occurred on October the 18th.
    On that occasion the gunboats decided the issue.  The
    Revolutionists were entrenched behind the Foreign Racecourse, and
    in the afternoon made an attack toward Kilometre Ten.  In
    advancing, they were exposed to a cross fire from the cruisers.
    They fell back again on the Racecourse.  Next day, however, the
    gunboats retired, and the Revolutionists, taking advantage of
    their absence, gained a victory, capturing some truckloads of
    ammunition, &c.  The loyalist army retired to Nie K'ou, to wait
    arrival of reinforcements from the north.

    "A week now elapsed without further fighting.  But the battle
    which resulted in the fall of Hankow commenced on October the
    27th.  The Revolutionists somewhat tamely allowed the bridges
    between Kilometre Ten and Nie K'ou to be captured.  They
    retreated on their base, Kilometre Ten.  A few well-directed
    shots from the gunboats, which had come up to participate in the
    fight, caused a second retreat.  The Imperials advanced steadily
    along the back of the Concessions reaching Ta Chi Men Station.
    The Revolutionists retook this position but were again driven
    back.  They fell back on Sin Shen Road, and fought bravely for
    three days, during which the road changed hands several times.
    On October 30th, also, there was a good deal of fighting between
    the Malu, at the back of Hankow, and the railway embankment.  On
    Tuesday, October 31st, the Revolutionists gained a slight
    advantage, driving the Imperialists back along the railway line.
    Next day, Wednesday, November 1st, commenced the burning of
    Hankow.  The Imperials had brought up their 3-in. guns to the Ta
    Chi Men crossing, about a quarter of a mile nearer Hankow than
    the station and placed them on the railway.  From this position
    they shelled the city, about two thirds of which was destroyed
    this day and the day following.  Though the city was in ashes
    however, frequent fighting took place in its ruined streets,
    greatly endangering the safety of foreigners on the Concessions.
    This desultory fighting went on till the fall of Hanyang.
    Nothing of much importance, however, occurred till November 17th.

    "Much of the sharpest fighting occurred round the Waterworks.
    The gunners on the Heh Shan were kept very busy.  The works
    themselves changed hands several times.  On November 17th, the
    Revolutionists made a determined attempt to drive back the enemy.
    In the early morning they were across the Han in force, and
    advanced inwards from the Viceroy's embankment in one large
    crescent, stretching from near Ch'aeo K'ou to three miles on the
    other side of the Griffith John College.  They even advanced as
    far as the Chinese Racecourse, but later in the day were forced
    to retreat.

    "It should have been stated that the Imperials had moved out
    their guns to positions along the extension of the Sin Shen Road,
    while they had placed three very heavy guns on 'Coffin Hill.'
    From these guns, Tortoise Hill, Mei Tzu Shan, and Heh Shan, were
    in easy range, and constant bombardment ensued.

    "But fresh hope was brought to the Revolutionists by the turning
    over of the fleet to the Republican side.  On Sunday, November
    19th, occurred that memorable engagement, when the torpedo boat
    ran the gauntlet, and the cruiser punished the Imperial batteries
    along the foreshore between the Japanese Concession and the
    Yangtse Engineering Works.  In consequence, these batteries were
    very much strengthened, as shown in the map.

    "At this time the capture of Nanking was momently expected, and
    the Imperials, realising that, if Hanyang was to be captured, it
    must be immediately, did all in their power to take the place.  A
    party of three thousand set off from Siao Kan for Ch'ait'ien,
    intending to approach Hanyang from behind.  What became of this
    detachment is uncertain, but it would appear that they were
    defeated.  Their project was never realized.

    "But the Imperials determined on another course.  They managed to
    cross the Han at T'u Lu K'ou.  Five large shrapnel guns were
    brought up to the Viceroy's embankment, two about a quarter of a
    mile from the Griffith John College.  A heavy fire was directed
    toward the four hills on the other side of the Han, which formed
    the key to Hanyang.  A battery, placed on the waist of the hills
    opposite the College replied.  As the College was in direct line
    of fire, considerable damage was done.  The Imperials, owing to a
    very swift creek, were unable to proceed down the side of the
    Han.  They had therefore to cross the creek at San-Yen Ch'iao
    (Three-eyed Bridge), and take the four hills.  Judging from the
    number of patients brought into Hanyang during the days of this
    fighting (November 21st-26th), and from the number of graves seen
    on a subsequent visit, very heavy fighting must have been carried
    on here.  The hills were well adapted for defence, being covered
    with quarries, but ammunition on the Republican side was poor.
    The hills were eventually taken, though one at least was retaken.
    The whole time, the Revolutionists were assailed from two sides,
    from the Griffith John College battery, and from the Imperials on
    the north-west.

    "It would appear that on Sunday, November 26th, began the
    evacuation.  On Saturday, the Mei Tzu Shan battery had been
    silenced.  On Sunday evening the Imperials effected a crossing
    between the Heh Shan and Tortoise Hill.  Retreat followed from
    the San-yen Ch'iao hills, and so Heh Shan was forced to silence.
    Hanyang was captured on Monday, November 27th, the last place to
    be evacuated being the Tortoise Hill.

    "After the fall of Hanyang, the Imperials retained their strong
    river batteries, but moved up their 'Coffin Hill' guns to a
    position on the railway a quarter of a mile on the other side of
    Sin Shen Road.  They threw two bridges across the Han, one about
    half a mile below the Waterworks, one at the Wu Shen Miao.  They
    also fortified the base of Hanyang Hill, planting their guns, as
    in the case of the Griffith John College battery and 'Coffin
    Hill,' under cover of foreign buildings.  This time it was the
    American Baptist Mission Hospital that was exposed.

    "Evacuation commenced, however, without any more serious
    fighting.  The guns on the railway were removed.  Incidentally
    two shrapnel guns and a quantity of ammunition were taken to the
    old position near the Griffith John College on New Year's Day,
    where they remained three days; but this was probably merely to
    prevent a possible crossing of the Revolutionists into forbidden
    territory.  This ended the fighting in the vicinity of Hankow."




{125}

CHAPTER XI

THE FALL OF HANYANG

Three days before the naval escapade described in the last chapter
started the great struggle made by the "Imps" for the recapture of
Hanyang.  Yuan Shih K'ai, impatient at the dauntless manner in which
the enemy were standing their ground--and even gaining upon the
Imperial Army--made an offer of 3,000,000 taels (some £375,000) for
the recapture of Hanyang.  The Revolutionary Army was now fighting as
never before.

The important news that Shantung had gone over to the Revolutionists
was received on the 16th in a laconic message, stating briefly that
the entire province was now flying the white flag.  This news was all
the more important inasmuch as about ten days before the Government
granted all the demands of the Shantung people, with the exception of
the evacuation of Peking by the Manchus.  This, it was thought, would
be a sufficient sop to Cerberus, but it seemed not so, and the
Shantungites had apparently decided to go the whole hog in the same
manner as their local compatriots.

The real bombardment of Hanyang commenced at night on that date, and
the sight was one never to be forgotten by those who had pluck enough
to go to the high buildings and watch the guns opening.  From a score
of batteries on the Wuchang side of the river, from the big forts on
the main hills inside Wuchang, from perhaps thirty guns raised on
Hanyang Hill and {126} four hills away to the right there came
constant tiny flashes.  The distant boom for hours in the dense
darkness gave one an eerie feeling.  The furious whizz of the shells
as they swept over the foreign houses intensified one's peculiar
fascination.  Bullets sailing through the air bred in one a spirit of
cool bravado.  Around the countryside for miles one could count a
score of fires--the whole population seemed to be burned out of house
and home.  At midnight there came a significant lull.  Waiting and
watching, watching and waiting on the tops of their houses, foreign
civilians looked on to the passing tragedy, and were held spellbound
in the dark.  Those tiny flashes of blue seemed to be the sparks of a
new life, but the morning brought the news that the Revolutionists
had had the worst of it.  When the Northern Army first arrived at
Niekow it was part of their programme to dispatch a force through the
lakes to the Han River at Hankow, from which place they could reach
Hanyang in half a day.  The boats were collected for the expedition,
but for some reason or other it was called off.  The project appears
to have been taken up again, and this time carried through, with the
result that the Imperialists, by November 20th, were in possession of
Tsaitien, a busy market town on the Hanyang side of the Han twenty
miles up.  A foreign traveller, who was there at the time of the
occupation, wrote up the following particulars about the situation
then:--

"After we had passed Hsinkow on the way down by boat we noticed
parties of grey-coated soldiers on the left bank marching down.
There might be twenty in a party and sometimes a hundred.  In
conversation with them we learned that they were Chilhi or Shantung
men, and belonged to Yuan Shih K'ai's army.  Their General was named
Wu, a very friendly man who said that he had a force of three
thousand, and that they were bound for Hanyang.  Our boat outstripped
them, and on reaching Tsaitien we found it still under {127}
Revolutionary control, but with no soldiers there beyond the crews of
some twenty fighting junks at anchor.  There had been a thousand men
in the place, but they had marched up the river before our arrival,
said to be bound for Anluh.  We reached there on Saturday evening,
and at daybreak the following morning the gunjunks got up anchor and
made for up-river.  The Imperialists did not put in an appearance
till Sunday afternoon about two o'clock, when some forty native boats
came in crowded with soldiers.  They had also on board half a dozen
mules and probably guns, but these were not visible.  They had large
supplies of ammunition.  By the time they landed all trace of the
Revolutionists had disappeared.  No one interfered with them, and
they interfered with no one.  There might have been close on a
thousand men in that lot.  All afternoon and evening there was heavy
firing up-river.  The people said it was the Revolutionists attacking
the rear of the party up at Hsinkow, and that they had driven it
back, but the puzzle was how the advance contrived to reach Tsaitien
without either side apparently having seen the other.  We left
Tsaitien about ten o'clock on Monday, at which time the Imperialists
were all in their tents engaged on their breakfast.  There was no
sign that they intended making any further move that day.  It is
impossible to reach Hankow by the Han route, as both parties fired on
every boat seen.  We therefore crossed the Machia Lake, and came out
beyond Hanyang.  Here a large force of several thousand
Revolutionists was setting out by land for Tsaitien, and had the
weather been favourable, they would have reached there last night.
As it is, they will have to wait for fine weather, and then some
further interesting news may be forthcoming from that quarter."

[Illustration: HOW THE IMPERIALISTS CROSSED THE HAN.  One of the
three bridges built on boats across the river while the
revolutionaries were quarrelling among themselves.]

Thus at last had the Imperialists crossed the Han.  And with their
crossing commenced one of the most determined battles in history,
lasting five long days and {128} four frightful nights of heaviest
fighting.  Day after day the close riflery work and Maxim fire was
terrific.  The Revolutionists for some time had the best of it.  The
slaughter among the Imperialists was fearful.  The gunnery was heavy
and deadly on both sides, but with Maxims the Revolutionists mowed
down the enemy in hundreds each day.  The death-roll no one was able
to calculate.  Each night the Imperial dead was taken away by train.
The Imperial wounded were left on the field in the cold to die of
their frightful wounds and hunger.  The pressure did not allow of Red
Cross work being done.  To the left of the advancing Imperialists
already referred to was the rapidly rushing Han, to the right a lake,
in front a creek and high hill, defended by strong forces of
Revolutionists.  The hill in itself was a natural fort, but in the
undulations of the ground and in the long grass the mountain guns and
Maxims were as thick as blackberries.  Every Imperial was fighting
for his life, for he knew, once across the Han, that it was a fight
to kill or be killed.  Such scenes were probably never eclipsed in
any war.  The fusillading and incessant cannonading was harder than
in any war of recent times.  The Imperialists had given up the
endeavour and were downcast at the meagre prospects of their success.
To take Hanyang appeared altogether impossible.  Their idea was to
again make a wide flanking movement towards Siaokan, run a light
railroad up to Siangyang, in North Hupeh, and so draw the
Revolutionists away from the hills to open country.  Certain it
seemed to them that Hanyang would always remain a Revolutionary base.
But as one sets out to write an accurate account of the situation in
those last days in November, he is confronted by innumerable
obstacles that render it almost futile.  On the 26th every man in the
Concessions, except the very few more closely associated with the
happenings on the field, was under the impression that the
Revolutionary Army was forging ahead, that it {129} had by far the
better position in the field, and that the taking of Hanyang was a
task that the Imperialists were not by any means strong enough to
accomplish.  As I have said, the Imperialist officers thought so,
too, but when on Saturday (the 25th) I learned that the Hunan men
were becoming a little disaffected, I foresaw to some extent what
turn events would take if it were proved impossible for General Li
Yuan Hung and Commander Huang Hsuin successfully to handle this new
and somewhat treacherous move on the part of the Hunan Army.  Now the
greatest blow that had yet fallen, and which could fall short of a
complete smash-up, fell to the Republican cause here on November 27th.

Hanyang was captured--how will later be explained.

[Illustration: HUNAN SOLDIER.  One of the men who turned traitor,
causing the disastrous fall of Hanyang.

HUPEH SOLDIER.  From time immemorial at feud with the Hunanese, but
brought into co-operation in the early part of the Revolution.]

One found it the more difficult to write an accurate account of the
situation which would remain true because from now onward it seemed
to change its aspect hour by hour.  Everything seemed to have taken a
change for the worst.  Chinese met in the streets and told each other
the bad news with long faces.  The sight of the dead being brought in
from the field and prepared for burial, under the gaze of all and
sundry, brought a peculiar depression into the very atmosphere.
Foreign and Chinese communities waited hour by hour for what was
coming.  Rumours were wild on the lips of every one.  No one could be
believed, and what one actually saw could scarcely be taken as truth.
The general situation was extremely grave to the Republican military
cause, and the Imperialists were never stronger in numbers, and in
the advantage that they held over their enemy in their positions in
the field.  In possession now of Hanyang Hill, it was expected that
they would bring their big guns into position and blow Wuchang to
pieces in three hours.  There was nothing to stop them.  They were
the military masters of the situation.  All the Chinese could do now
was to sit tight, interfere as little {130} as possible, endeavour to
keep their heads on their shoulders by keeping out of the way of the
executioner's knife, and wait to see what would happen.

Then slowly came the story of the fall of Hanyang.[1]

{131}

Sensational incidents during the day that Hanyang fell, with
picturesque incidents and all the gore that the newspaper-reading
public calls for were provided under the eyes of every one.
Junkloads of helpless, bullet-driven men were drifting down the river
in a ghastly succession.  Have you ever seen a boat drifting on a
rapid river?  Have you ever watched a Chinese junk, ungainly and ugly
perhaps, just going helplessly with the tide?  And have you ever seen
a cargo of human freight not knowing what to do to reach the shore or
any place of safety?  That morning the men had been riddled by
bullets as they attempted to make away in the boats.  They had had
machine-gun fire rained into them, and, scampering like a lot of
frightened birds in their cage, had crept all over to the covered end
in their frenzy, hoping that the wood cover would save them.  Tighter
and tighter they pressed against each other.  They trampled on each
other, threw their rifles out into the river, their cartridge-cases,
their general impedimenta, and then settled down {132} to die as the
boat slowly drifted down-stream.  And there, when they were found,
these thirty, forty, fifty men were sitting huddled grimly together,
their glassy eyes staring upwards into the unknown.  Mercilessly,
with hideous brutality, they had been slaughtered as they sat, and
now were in the sitting posture, dead, wedged in tightly one against
the other.  Some had fallen outward to the side of the boat, and
their bodies now were hanging limply, swaying to and fro with the
dull motion of the junk.  Some, shot through the head, through the
heart, through the limbs, had sunk exhausted to the bottom of the
boat, where the water was fast rushing in through the splintered
bulwarks, and lay, face down, in the water, drowned as they lay.
Another boatload, equally helpless and void of all hope but the
river, had their wounded at the bottom, some of the less seriously
wounded putting their hands through the holes into the water and
endeavouring vainly to get a motion on the boat.  When these junks,
after terrific labour, were brought into the side {133} of the
British Bund, the sight will never be forgotten--men, bleeding from
the throat, from the side, limping as they dragged a shattered leg
behind them up the steps, to fall exhausted at the top and carried
away to the hospitals.  'Twas a bloody conflict that ended the fall
of Hanyang.

[Illustration: THE IMPREGNABLE HANYANG HILL, Shown in the background.
It is the main strategic point on the Yangtse.  At one time it
bristled with revolutionary field-guns.]

For the first time since the beginning of the revolutionary movement
in China the Imperialist cause had scored an undeniable success,
always excepting the savage burning of Hankow.  The success of the
Imperialists was rightly ascribed to their superior equipment and
discipline, and that their loyalty to Peking, as well as their
efficiency, had stood the supreme test of battle was in itself an
event of first-rate importance.  The strong feeling which has grown
up almost all over China against the Manchu had still to be reckoned
with.  At this time it was an amusing diversion to read the opinions
being printed in the home Press.  After referring to the feeling
among the proletariat against the Manchus, a writer in an editorial
in the London _Times_ said that "again a middle {134} term may
conceivably be found in the suggestion that, as an alternative to the
withdrawal of the Court from Peking, the present Regent should resign
his office into the hands of a Chinese Regent or Council of Regency.
The singular ceremony which took place a few days ago in Peking, when
the Regent, in the name of the infant Emperor, made atonement before
the 'heavenly spirits' of the Imperial ancestors for the
responsibility which he has to bear in the present troubles, may be
taken as something more than a mere formal acknowledgment of the
gravity of the crisis.  In the solemn oath of allegiance to the new
constitutional regime taken by the Regent, there is, in so many
words, an admission that the Dynasty is in danger; and so grave an
admission is, we imagine, at least as unprecedented as the
circumstances which have provoked it.  If it truly represents the
chastened spirit of the rulers of China, it can hardly fail to make a
deep impression upon the masses of the Chinese people, whose
traditional reverence for the Throne as a sacred {135} institution
dates back to time immemorial, and has survived numberless
revolutions in the past which, however disastrous to the occupants
for the time being of the Throne, never permanently affected its
inherent prestige."

But in a period of such national travail as China was passing
through, it would have been unwise just then to build too much upon
the claims of mere common sense, even where people in many ways so
eminently sensible as the Chinese were concerned.  Immense forces, of
which we could not yet pretend to estimate the energy, had been set
in motion for better or for worse; and, when once elemental forces
have been set in motion, they cannot easily be arrested.  In pleading
for the maintenance of the Dynasty, Yuan Shih K'ai himself did not
conceal his belief that its overthrow would be followed by a series
of internal convulsions extending possibly over several decades.
Time may prove Yuan to be right.  But though we may hope that the
world may be spared such a calamity, {136} it was now impossible to
look forward to the future without apprehension.  The old order of
things had departed, never to return.  But it would have been then,
and still is, idle to expect that a new and stable order of things
can be immediately evolved by any magic wand out of the existing
chaos.  However rotten the old fabric may have been, it cannot be
destroyed and a new fabric built up in a day.  Japan went through
some fifteen years of internal strife and turmoil before modern Japan
emerged from the ruins of the old feudal Japan.  And Japan not only
had the good fortune to possess an influential class inspired by
great patriotic ideals, ready to lead her in the path of national
regeneration, but she had also, in the restoration of the Imperial
authority, an ancient national tradition round which modern ideas of
reform could crystallise.  Whether China possessed a class equally
competent to steer her through the breakers had yet to be seen--and
has still; but it was only too clear, unfortunately, that the present
Dynasty could never be a rallying point for patriotic enthusiasm such
as the reigning Dynasty proved to be in Japan.  The future alone
could show whether any effective substitute could be found for it.

[Illustration: THE THREE-EYED BRIDGE, Seven miles north of Hanyang,
where some of the hottest fighting took place.  The Revolutionists
held the bridge and the adjoining hills till the fall of Hanyang made
the position untenable.]

The fall of Hanyang gave to the Imperial cause an impetus it was hard
to estimate.  But it had cost the Chinese as a people a lot during
its fall.

* * * * *

During the first two days of December the author formed one of a
party of Europeans whose duty it was to superintend the operations of
a search party of the Red Cross Society around the neighbourhood of
Chiakow and the four hills across the Han River, all of which formed
the scene of one of the great battles.  This was the belt of country
which for days was held by the Revolutionary Army, encamped and
fortified in {137} the many hillocks and surrounding lake country,
which by its very impassable nature was practically a fort.  It was
here that the Revolutionists must have fought with more dauntless
courage than the Russo-Japanese War ever gave record of to the world.
It was here that for days, at closest range, they were driven back by
the Imperial shrapnel and rifle fire from the other side of the Han;
here that they repeated daring onslaughts upon the enemy when it
seemed that the end was near with the speedy cutting-up of the
Imperialists; here that the Peking men again and again endeavoured to
force an entry and were cut down hopelessly and retreated with but a
scanty percentage of their own attacking regiments; here that the
hills bristled with batteries that whistled shells simultaneously by
the dozen into the enemy as they lay encamped in the open country
behind the waterworks.  Altogether those four hills, still looking up
reverently to their Maker, seemed silently to tell forth stories of
heroism that would make the memories of men who were cruelly tortured
immortal among their own people.  But it was here also that the Hupeh
men and the Hunan men had their squabble; and in this was their
downfall, as it could have been in nothing else, for the place was
impregnable.

And as during those two days I rode my pony in and out those
hillocks, through those swamps, around those lakes, and as I stood by
the graves of men who gave their own cause away, I could not help
wondering what might have been had the Revolutionary Army remained
one in spirit.  What would have happened is this: the Imperialists
would never have crossed the Han.  But by December 1st they were in
full possession.  Every man and thing seemed numbered, all was
wonderfully organised; from far away up the Han on both sides down
past the point where the Han bifurcates into the Yangtsze and down
past Kinshan forts the Imperialists were in possession.

{138}

As it was the rebels had lost, the Imperialists had won: but as one
went around the countryside and talked with the country people,
peaceable souls who had only their small cabbage-patch to bring forth
their wherewithal to live, the tales of savagery and cruelty and
devilish treatment which the Imperialists said they found it
necessary to bring into their "military measures" did not make one
wonder that, although compelled at the point of the bayonet to
submit, the whole of the rural population swore vengeance upon the
army that had worked havoc among them.  Such behaviour as the
Imperial soldiers, in their devilry, persisted in was worse even than
one would expect from the worst of Chinese.  We all know that the
Chinese are cruel, that they have no sympathies in the usual Western
sense; we know that they delight in the torture of all things that
have life.  But such grossly inhuman conduct as was countenanced by
the Imperial military authorities in this centre almost compelled one
to exclaim that to the depths of Chinese barbarity one cannot probe.
What one saw made one instinctively draw back, yet one did not see a
tithe of what there was.

Of the searching for the dead I shall have but little to say.  There
were few dead to be found.  We buried 207.  As soon as the military
stationed in command of the captured hill heard that the Red Cross
Society was sending parties to search for the dead and to bury the
corpses, they set about with their own burial parties to remove those
who had been shot in that dreadful battle.  The villages that had
been razed to the ground, and incidentally rid of all the menfolk
with a rifle shot or a few bayonet thrusts, had been made to bury
their own dead; most of it was done by the girls before they were
taken off to be made worse than slaves to the fiendish men who took
them.  But the tale had better be told in sequence.

If one is able to keep his mind free from the gruesome {139} and the
cruel, the fiendish tricks practised everywhere along the Han by the
Imperial soldiers, he cannot but admire the smartness of the military
training and the extremely creditable manner in which this Imperial
Army had been handled.  When it is remembered that from the four high
hills overlooking the Han River the Revolutionists were able
continuously to blow to smithereens anything that was attempted in
the way of bridge-building, the making of the bridge by which the
main body of the enemy passed over the river is little short of a
marvel.  At this point the Han, with no inconsiderable current, is no
less than three hundred and fifty yards wide.  The bridge by which
the Imperialists crossed was composed of some one hundred and fifty
boats of all sorts and sizes, each in its turn tied to an extremely
stout hawser; over this the whole of the attacking force with their
complete equipment was brought.  Then from this point to another
point some twenty li away, at the base of the hills, villages were
indiscriminately scattered, some with twenty families, some with half
a dozen.  All had suffered the same fate and were now but places of
ashes.

To the left was found a Revolutionary soldier, dead, half-eaten,
dressed still in his black uniform.  About the body, which was
huddled in a decomposing heap on the ground, were noticed several
bayonet wounds; it had been brought from a bed, upon which the
wounded man had probably been done to death.  Under the bed was found
a lamp, on and around the bed were found huge chunks of charcoal and
charred firewood; nothing else in the room was burned.  Is it
possible to think that those devils of men, first getting their prey
like the beasts they are, then maiming him, then putting him on a
bed, then getting the fire by which they intended burning him to
death, had fired the lot and literally roasted their victim alive,
and sat down to watch the last agonies?  Such was my theory, and the
{140} circumstantial evidence, with the guarded explanation of the
temple caretaker--who was spared because he could wait upon these
vicious greycoats--made for none other.  And there the body lay; dogs
had come in and eaten off a leg, a part of the neck, a part of the
body; the main bone of the leg had been wrenched off, and a dog near
by still growled with another for possession.  Soon the burial was
made, the wistful onlookers, lucky that they had escaped, remarking
blandly that we were performing _hao si_.  Further gruesome details
of a most gruesome duty it were reasonable not to expect given;
sufficient has been written to show where the great battle took place
and what its effects had been.  Over the hills one came across one,
two, a dozen peaked caps, a dozen uniforms.  Near by were nightsoil
pits and ponds of stagnant water; into these the unlucky victims had
been thrown.  Pools of blood there were everywhere, cartridge-cases
and cartridges there were by the thousand, seven big guns with the
breach-blocks gone, boxes of unopened field-gun cases, piles of 2¼
gun shells alongside the heavy pieces, pieces of bone, bloody
bandages, and much else all too eloquent of the carnage and the
battle.  One man volunteered to show us where the corpse of a
villager lay; he said the body had been hit fair by a big shell and
now there was little left to show for what had been a soldier doing
his duty for a cause of reform; when we came to the place a pool of
blood and a few bones were all that the canine scavengers had left.

[Illustration: THE HANDY MAN ASHORE.  Residents in the British
Concession owe much to the bluejackets.  They are seen here carting
bricks in rickshaws, with which to build barricades.]

Farther on an old woman sat upon a heap of rubbish, which had been
her home for forty years.  She was ill-clad, cold, had had no food
for four days, and thought that she, too, would die.  Her husband,
poor old man, had been killed by stray shots before the Imperialists
made their rush; her sons, four of them--peaceable men, she said, who
offered no resistance--were killed cruelly at sight; their wives had
been carried off.  "But I am not alone," she added; "others in the
{141} village suffered the same fate.  Our young boys had their
queues taken off to make them into rebels so that the soldiers would
have an excuse to shoot them.  And our 'little babies'"--the poor old
lady was now wiping her eye--"our girls of fourteen and fifteen were
carried off across the river.  I wonder whether I shall see them
again."  I wondered, too, as I watched the old woman weeping.  And
the farther I went the more was I impressed with the cruelty of this
war towards the civilian rather than to the military part of the
community.  The devastation was terrific.

Have you ever noticed how soon a Chinese can spoil or totally destroy
things in general?  Whether it be the mechanic in the factory, the
cook in the kitchen, the boy about the house, the gardener, the
boatman, the tinker, tailor, or sailor, it is undeniable that the
Chinese is a pastmaster in the art of spoiling and damaging and
putting things destructively to their wrong uses.  One sees it, not
in one district and among one class of the Chinese; it is universal
in the country and the people.  To go through China one is struck
more than anything else by the manner in which everything is brought
to a general condition of decay and uselessness.  And so in war the
Chinese have been showing us how destructive is their nature, how
vile they are in pillaging and looting and destroying.  For miles
around the city of Hankow long stretches of burned and pillaged
districts stand as painfullest evidences of the ravages of this
horrible civil war.  These northern victors could not have behaved
worse had they specifically endeavoured, and this is much to say.
All the cruelties, all the infamy in its several forms, all the
wanton destruction, the stealing, the ravishing of pure women, the
killing of little children, the kidnapping of young girls, the gross
oppression practised by them all will go down to history as the
conduct unworthy of any civilised nation.  I am aware that in writing
this I may call down {142} considerable criticism, but I fail to see
why such things should be kept back from public knowledge.  China is
making claims, as she long has been, that she is coming line to line
with the civilisation of the West.  She has claimed that she has got
out of the rut of the past, and that now the world may confidently
look for that which in history has made the nations of the world
great--liberty, justice, and other so far unknown virtues in her
present military campaign against those who truly, so far as we can
tell, are urging for real reform.

Another instance before I close this chapter.  Whilst I was riding
round the country I collected a couple of shells from the field, and
asked an old man to put them in his house for me until I should later
return for them.  He agreed and away I went.  Some time after I
returned to find four soldiers yelling at this old man and some of
his neighbours who had foregathered to save him from the common doom.
The soldiers had accused him of harbouring the empty shells for some
rebels they were sure he was sheltering, and already their fingers
were itching on the triggers of their rifles.  "A foreign gentleman
asked me to keep them for him; I am telling you the truth!" shouted
the terrified old fellow.  "You lie! you old blackguard, you'll have
to die for this.  Come out of your house!"  Vainly were his
neighbours endeavouring to mediate on his behalf, and were threatened
with the same treatment if they did not desist at once.  But at the
moment I rode up.  I took the shell-cases quietly, thanked the old
man, asked what the trouble was, and was about to explain when one of
the soldiers, with an eye filled with evil, wished me peace and told
me that they were merely having fun with the old man, and that I
could go on my way resting assured that no harm would be done.  I
went, but I do not know the fate of the old man.

* * * * *

{143}

The reader should understand that probably of all strategic points in
the Chinese Empire there is none more naturally formidable than
Hanyang.  It was the pivot of the whole situation.  With Hanyang
gone, Wuchang was practically gone also--if the enemy had any guns at
all.  At dawn on November 27th the war correspondents brought the
news that the Hunan men had refused to fight at Hanyang, and that the
city was about to be taken.  Bombarding and heavy fusillading had
been going on all the day on the Sunday and throughout the night, but
by midnight the Imperialists were known to be masters of the
situation, and it was only a matter of time for them to march upon
the fortified city of Hanyang.  That city, as will have been
gathered, every one looked upon as impregnable.  There was treachery.
The Hunan men were said to have shot their officers, to have left the
hill, to have boarded junks that were drifting hopelessly down-stream
in an attempt to retreat to Wuchang, only to find that after they had
been shelled in the junks they drifted down-stream in the face of
Maxim fire, placed to greet them at the bend of the river.  What
happened to them has already been described, but can better be
imagined.[2]

{144}

As I was dressing on November 27th my bedroom door was slowly opened.
A smart young Chinese, a man from Yale University and one of the
smartest men of his year, crept in and cautiously closed the door
behind him.

"Man," he said, "it's all up.  We are going to lose Hanyang."

And then he began to tell me the story of the treachery.  'Twas a sad
story, true; but it gave the city away.  Coming over to me, with
sincerity shining in his eyes, he exclaimed: "Come, you're a
journalist; can't you help us?  Can't you stop this dreadful carnage?
The city has fallen completely.  The Imperialists are in control of
the hill and the city, with the arsenal, the powder factory, and much
else."

{145}

In a nutshell it may be said that the Revolutionary military cause in
this immediate centre was with the fall of Hanyang irretrievably
lost.  It will be futile in this volume to go into the way the men
behaved; they fled, many of them cowards, others struck down still
sticking manfully to their duty, others barbarously bayoneted as they
endeavoured to hold their guns on the hill and in the valley on the
river bank; but that they were shamefully routed was borne out by the
fearful misbehaviour of the Imperialists.  On they came like a pack
of maddened animals for the onslaught.  They had no mercy.  Every one
within {146} reach fell at the point of the bayonet or was shot
ruthlessly despite all humane methods brought to bear in surrender in
war.  The boating community, quietly adopting a neutral attitude,
were served in the same heartless manner.  Women, children, old men,
babies--all were shot, and their corpses floated down-river in their
drifting boats.  Some of the sights were too terrible to behold.  Old
men and women were all subjected to the same cruel fate.

But leaving for the moment the fighting, we come to the Bund, in the
afternoon, to watch the Red Cross Association conducting its errands
of mercy.  Out on the Bund--some shot through the head, through the
limbs, through the body, all showing up in ghastly significance the
horror of this war--we see ten, twenty, thirty, forty of the dead
laid out for burial.  Foreigners and Chinese all lend a hand to tie
the bodies in matting, others heave them into the carts, the
pavements are littered with the discarded coats and implements of war
which the dead still held as evidence of this civil butchery; on a
little way farther one finds a group of wounded on the grass plots
waiting for the stretcher-bearers to return to take them to the
hospitals.  One was a mother with a little baby, the baby dying, the
mother mortally wounded; others were civilians who had shown no
fight; others were trained soldiers; others were recruits who had run
at the sound of the machine-guns, shot in the back.  Then there is
the rumble of the wheels as cartload after cartload of the covered
dead are conveyed out of sight, and the police set to work to pick up
the blood-stained uniforms, the money-pouches, the little
knick-knacks of the Chinese soldier's paraphernalia.  All is so sad,
so significant.

Meantime over across the way the shells were falling into the capital
of Wuchang.  The air was rent again and again by the sharp booming of
the Imperial big guns on Coffin Hill.  Men came and went, looked down
at the {147} pools of human blood that were swelling the rivers of
blood through which China has yet to pass before this Revolution
ends.  The river was deserted.  If a sampan ventured out into the
stream rifles were set to work, and a hasty retreat was made.  The
people were downcast.

And this young Chinese, sent specially from General Li, who called
upon me before I was dressed, had come asking whether I could not
send a message from Li Yuan Hung to the world.  "We don't want to
fight any more!" he excitedly exclaimed.  "General Li is genuinely
anxious that peace should be declared, that slaughter on this
wholesale scale should be stopped forthwith.  Although this reverse
has overcome the Revolutionary Army, our cause on the field is not by
any means lost.  Even if we have lost Hanyang, it does not follow
that our fighting strength is gone, and if it becomes necessary
General Li will alter the base of fighting operations, a scheme which
the Imperialists had under consideration before their victory
yesterday.  None were more surprised than the Imperialists themselves
when they were able to march up Hanyang Hill without having to fire a
shot.  But the fact that they are in possession of Hanyang does not
necessarily mean that the military conquest is entirely won, for if
needs be we shall be able continually to augment our army from other
provinces until such time as in the very nature of things the
Imperial Army will have been weeded out, man for man, or two to one,
or three, or four if necessary."

I was sorry I was unable to help him.

I learned subsequently that, just an hour or so before Hanyang
actually changed hands, Yuan Shih K'ai wired from Peking to the
British Acting Consul-General here, asking him to inform General Li
that he was anxious to hear what terms he proposed that peace might
be established.  This was just at the moment that Hanyang was passing.

{148}

What was to be the outcome of this Hunan dissension any one who knew
the Hunanese would not be inclined to say offhand, but the fact that
there has always been some little contempt mutually between the
Hupehese and the Hunanese probably magnified the dissension in the
military that occurred.  One of the first arts of warfare is to cut
off the pursuers.  Now, when the Hunan men were in the city of
Hanyang the Friday previous there was a little teashop squabble
between a couple of dozen men, the Hupeh men being accused of
flinching the hard graft of the front line.  To this squabble is
traced directly the capture of Hanyang by the enemy.

"We are always sent to the front," said the Hunanese; "we are getting
less pay, doing more work, suffering heavier losses in our ranks."

Then one word brought forth another, the party offered to have a
fight on the spot, some picked up their rifles and discharged a few
shots, and one or two men were wounded.  After that the Hupeh men
were placed on the front line.

On the Saturday during a sharp engagement, in which the
Revolutionists got the worst of it, a retreat at the double was made;
the Revolutionary gunners opened with their three-inchers and
endeavoured to cut off the pursuers, but instead dropped their shells
among the first lines of their own men as they retreated.  Upon this
the Hunan men swore vengeance as they saw their comrades falling
thickly around them.  When they got under cover they refused to fight
any more.  They almost at once commenced to go back to Wuchang, where
they declared they were going to talk terms with General Li, and so
they lost one of the most impregnable positions in the whole of
China--a veritable Chinese Gibraltar.  And when the Imperialists were
able to march upon Hanyang they never had such a delightful surprise
in their lives.  In conversation with an Imperial officer, who was
leading the first regiment {149} to get into the city, I was told
that they had almost given up all idea of ever capturing Hanyang.
Had the Revolutionary men been kept under better control while off
duty this never would have happened.  The Imperialists stood a far
greater risk of having dissension creeping in among their men, but
they took great care that no such loophole should be offered to them.
In Wuchang the people, essentially Chinese, talked so wildly about
this Revolutionary reverse that it was found necessary to remove the
heads of several, and war talk became absolutely taboo on the streets.

The Imperialists then directed their attention to Wuchang.  Every
hour the Revolutionists expected a bombardment.  "We shall put up a
bit of a fight, but it will be quite useless to expect to hold the
city," a prominent Revolutionary officer in the Foreign Office told
me; "then our main army will go away at the back of the city and trek
down to Kiukiang, concentrating at Nanking."  But the Imperialists
somehow hung fire.  They did not seem anxious to take Wuchang.  Li
Yuan Hung is reported to have declared that he believed the
Revolution was lost; he told his second that the Imperialists were
sure to come and capture the city, behead him, and kill all those who
had no queues.  That the Imperialists were doing their best to find
out all they could of affairs on the opposite side of the river was
evident.  They collared one of the Revolutionary spies, and he was
promised pardon if he would tell his captors something about the
inside movements of Wuchang.

He set about to tell his story.--how that the whole of the officials,
from General Li downwards, were in a blue funk; how that there were
some ten thousand troops now in Wuchang; how that the intention was
to blaze away with all the bluff in the world on the foreshore whilst
the army was clearing out by the back gates of the city; how that if
the Imperialists cared to march upon Wuchang they could capture it
{150} forthwith.  He then waited for the pardon that did not come.

[Illustration: DISMANTLED IMPERIAL GUN ON PURPLE MOUNTAIN, HANKING.
The author is seen standing in the foreground of the picture.]

"Have you any more to say?" asked the officer to whom he told the
story.

"No, I've told you all I know."

"Well," retorted the officer, "if this man has nothing more to tell
us"--and he turned to a man who commanded the execution
proceedings--"take him outside and have his head off."  In a couple
of minutes the big knife fell, and the head of the best spy in the
Revolutionary official camp rolled to the ground.


[1] The following story as told me by a Red Cross worker who was in
charge of the Emergency Hospital, of what he saw before the
Imperialists took the Hanyang Hill, will be of interest:--

"At 7.30 a.m. our launch made a trip to our Emergency Hospital in
Hanyang.  As the launch was needed for work in Wuchang until ten, I
sent her away as soon as we had landed.  At once we began to notice
that there was a change of some kind about the place.  There were
very few soldiers about, and movement that was being made was in the
direction of Wuchang.  I noticed too, that the ground along the
riverside was pretty liberally sprinkled with unused rifle
cartridges, many in their clips.  These seemed to betoken a somewhat
hurried embarkation at least, but I thought that it might have been
caused by a hurried dispatch of troops in the night.  On arrival at
the hospital, one of the Army Red Cross men said, "You'd better go
back.  It is dangerous to be here."  However, there were one or two
cases awaiting our arrival, so we at once set to work to attend to
them.  A little later we noticed that the servants who had been so
freely helping us had all disappeared, and presently I met one of
them on the street carrying his bundles of goods off to the
riverside.  One of our number had some business inside the city
walls, so we decided to go on with the work for the time being and
await his report as to the state of things.  After about an hour I
had occasion to take a wounded man to the landing-place, some two
hundred yards distant to await the arrival of the launch, and then
found that there was some cause for uneasiness.  All who could secure
a sampan or other boat were hurriedly gathering their bits of goods
together and making off up-stream against the current, all hands in
the boat helping to row.  It was the panic of the populace that
feared the arrival of the enemy.  I also overheard a quiet
conversation between two Chinese coolies and gathered from their
remarks that the Hunan raw recruits had been unable or unwilling to
face the northern guns and had gone off by the regiment.  Just then a
dismantled gunjunk drifted down from somewhere up-stream.  There was
only one man on board, and his unseeing eyes were turned up to the
full glare of the sun.  He had evidently been the helmsman, and had
died at his post.  There were bullet marks on the woodwork, and a cap
or two lay in the bottom of the boat, and I guessed what had become
of the rest of the boatload.  Promptly at ten o'clock I saw the
launch steaming back to us, and almost at the same moment there was a
movement on the part of some troops who had arrived on the Bund and
wished quick transport to Wuchang.  Some of them came down as the
boat drew up, but I was informed that this launch was for wounded men
only, of which there was quite a number now being brought in from the
West Gate first-aid place.  Whilst getting these on board, the
Revolutionary Army Field Hospital Corps, with their stretchers rolled
up and empty and their kit entire, marched up and began to make a
move on our launch, saying that they also were Red Cross workers, but
after a little difficulty I got them safely by to a boat farther up
the river.  They were told of the difficulty we were experiencing in
getting coolies to carry their wounded down from the West Gate and
other places, but they declined to stay any longer in a place that
was "dangerous."  Some field-pieces had been brought in by the
retiring troops, and one gunner, unable to get off his gun, brought
in the breech block.  There was no "scuttle," but a systematic
retreat of all sections of the army.  On my way back to the hospital
(the Baptist Church building) I met a regiment of troops marching up
to the Bund.  These had come from the top of Hanyang Hill immediately
to the north of us, and as an officer had already been to tell us
that the army was in retreat we decided to pack up everything--drugs,
instruments, bandages, and all--and leave not even a splint behind.
All the wounded were taken undressed, or with very rough dressing, to
the launch as soon as we could secure bearers.  Whilst making another
trip to the launch with some gear, stray bullets pinged by my ear and
plopped into the water.  At the same time I heard a noise of firing
at the west side of the city far more distinctly than on the previous
day, and shrapnel began bursting in the city behind us.  It was time
we were off.  Just as we were casting off some bearers were seen
making their way towards us with another casualty, so we came
alongside and took him in and then steamed away.  When off Wuchang we
were stopped by a zealous blackcoat, who presented the wrong end of
his rifle to us and said that he would fire if we proceeded.  We hove
to and cast anchor, and waited for this man's officer, who came up,
gave him a scolding, and made him stand to attention in front of the
field-piece his comrades had got ready to fire.  We hauled up the
anchor and got under weigh once more, but only to be hailed again by
the next guard of soldiers at the battery some fifty yards farther
down-stream.  Once again we hove to.  This time it was to take on a
wounded man, who, they said, was a spy.  I guessed that this was part
of their joke, as we knew perfectly well that a suspicion of being a
spy would have been more than enough to have sealed that man's fate.
Just as we had got under weigh for the third time in our short run to
Hankow, the Imperialists fired a volley at us from somewhere in the
neighbourhood of the China merchant's godown.  Most of the bullets
fell short, some struck the water by the side of the boat just below
where a group of Red Cross workers were standing.  We then realised
that the greycoats had worked their way back to the side of the river
again.  A few moments more, and the waterway between Wuchang and
Hankow had become a veritable hell.  Scores of boats were on the
river, some being full of fleeing soldiers and others crammed with
civilians, trying to get away from the greycoats; but orders had been
given in Wuchang that all deserting Revolutionaries were to be shot,
and so all craft on the river came in for a terrible cross fire from
rifle, machine gun, shrapnel, and shell.  We ran alongside and got
off our thirty wounded, and a little later, when some of the boats
that had weathered the storm of shot and shell began to drift down, I
suggested that we should take the launch out into midstream and pick
up the boats as they came down-river on the chance of finding some
still alive.  In this way we rescued three soldiers unwounded, six
civilians and soldiers wounded, mostly of serious character, and then
towed two boatloads of dead across to the Wuchang side and sent off
the three unhurt soldiers with them.  One of the wounded we had
picked up died almost immediately.  Our attention was next attracted
to a big boat crammed with men, women, and children which was trying
to reach the Wuchang side of the river.  Destitute of oars, the
panic-stricken folk were using the loose floor boards in frantic
attempts to escape.  On our approach they set up terrible cries for
mercy.  By the time we got alongside we were close in to the Wuchang
shore, not far from a huge timber-raft.  The scene was truly piteous.
Women were on their knees imploring us to spare them.  One man was so
beside himself with terror that he jumped into the air and threw
himself on to the deck, evidently under the impression that he was
plunging into the water.  In vain we tried to tell them that we had
come to save and to heal the wounded who were lying about the boat.
Then a new difficulty arose.  Just as we seemed to succeed in calming
the fears of the terrified creatures a company of Revolutionary
soldiers raced down the banks and along the huge raft with their
rifles at "the ready."  One or two dropped down behind the logs,
covering us with their guns, whilst others ordered us to leave the
boat alone or they would fire.  I stood at the bow of the boat
holding up both hands as a signal, but they would not recognise the
large Red Cross flag floating above me or listen to my arguments.
So, after having looked down the other end of the rifle for quite a
time, we gave up the attempt and left the boatload to its fate.  What
that was we soon saw.  Their goods were seized by the soldiery and
they were led up the banks under arrest.  The soldiers were evidently
carrying out their orders to allow no one to retreat from Hanyang.  A
subsequent visit of the Red Cross launch to the creek near by the
raft resulted in the bringing over of many wounded found there.
Some, however, had already been taken into Wuchang for treatment in
the overcrowded hospitals there.  On this journey we learned
something of the awful fate that had befallen the innocent in their
attempt to reach a place of safety.  One was the sole survivor of the
family who had started out on their journey a few hours before.  One
little lassie of some twelve summers as I was carrying her to the
shore told me that all her people had been killed with the exception
of herself and her father, and he was also wounded severely.  A woman
was found who had been shot through the hand as she had tried to
shelter her baby girl--the poor little mite had been shot through the
head.  I carried the child up to the shore, and sent the woman and
her dying babe to the Margaret Hospital."

[2] Startling stories of the cruelty of the Imperial soldiers who
visited the Hanyang battlefields after the retreat of the rebels were
told by every one who went over the battlefields.  One writer said:--

"I went with a party of Red Cross men all over the battlefields after
the capture of Hanyang by the Imperialists.  We went on bicycles,
riding over the Han by the pontoon bridge, going out at eight o'clock
in the morning and not returning until after six.  During that time
we covered a great deal of territory, and saw evidences of almost
incredible cruelty on the part of the Imperial soldiers.  We came up
with a party of four or five of them wearing Red Cross badges, but
carrying arms instead of first-aid kits.  They told us that they were
Red Cross men and thoroughly understood their duties, which were to
bring in any wounded Imperial soldiers and to kill all the wounded
rebel soldiers.  There was plenty of evidence that they had been
carrying out that programme, and they were very indignant when we
interfered and prevented their killing a wounded rebel.  We met
several parties of this kind.

"All over the battlefield there were wounded rebel soldiers and
non-combatants, who had lain for four or five days without food or
water or any kind of attention.  We were passing through one village
when a woman called out to us that there was a wounded man there.  We
got off our bicycles and looked for the man, finding him under a
bunch of straw in the road, where he had lain for several days
without food or water, while hundreds of coolies passed by.  We found
that he had a compound fracture, and called for some of the villagers
to help us carry him inside.  None of them would help, and we had to
carry him into a hut ourselves.  The villagers gave him tea and water
only when we insisted on it.  We asked them why it was they would
allow a wounded man to remain inside their village for such a long
time without giving him any attention, and finally got at the reason.
When the fighting started four wounded rebels and one wounded
Imperialist came into the village, and a woman took them into her
house and gave them food and a place to sleep.  The following day a
band of Imperial soldiers came to the village in search of their
wounded men and were told of this.  They went to the house, removed
the wounded Imperial, then put all of the members of the family in
the house, with the wounded rebels, walled up the doors, and set fire
to the place.  After telling us this story, the villagers took us to
the house and we saw the bodies half burned amidst the ruins.  As the
villagers were afraid to help us in any way or to allow us to place
the wounded rebels in their houses, we carried two to an abandoned
hut in the middle of a field, dressed their wounds, and buried them
down in straw as best we could.  We had no guard to leave over them,
nor did we have any stretcher-bearers with us, so we planned to come
back and get them the following day.  In order to protect them as
much as possible, we pinned on each one a card stating that these
people had been taken charge of by the foreign Red Cross, and asked
all to protect them.  When we went back the following morning, we
found one of the men dead, his face mutilated by bullets fired at
close range.  The other one had not been harmed, though almost dead
with fright.  He said that only half an hour before we came a party
of Imperial soldiers visited them.  The wounded men showed them the
card we had left and pleaded with them for mercy.  The Imperials spat
on them, and then walked just outside the door and fired.  It seems
that all of the guns were aimed at one man, which was the reason the
other escaped, for the Imperials left immediately after the firing.
There were many non-combatants wounded--we treated eight in one small
village.  One of them was a woman who had been shot through her small
foot.  Another had been shot through the leg; one old man,
seventy-six years old, crawled an English mile with a broken leg to
get assistance from us.  All of the wounded people we treated had
been wounded for four or five days and had remained all of that time
without any kind of attention, because of the fear of the people that
the Imperialists would wreak vengeance on any one that aided the
wounded.  The line of retreat was covered with ammunition, arms,
haversacks, and clothing.  I believe that there must have been a full
trainload of ammunition alone.

"The missionaries in Hankow are doing noble work caring for the
wounded.  The seats of the churches have been turned into beds, and
the missionaries risk their lives daily in caring for the wounded and
rescuing them from the battlefields."




{151}

CHAPTER XII

THE REPUBLIC SEEKS RECOGNITION

Although Hanyang had fallen, the Revolution was by no means lost;
this the intelligent reader will easily be able to see.  During the
past six weeks the Reformers had been so hard at work that a Republic
had practically been recognised by the Powers, America being
especially friendly.  The following address by Dr. Wu Ting Fang had
been sent out to the world, and had caused a profound impression:--


    "THE REPUBLIC OF CHINA ASKS RECOGNITION.

    "The Chinese nation born anew in the travail of revolution
    extends friendly greetings and felicitations to the world.

    "As the Republic of China it now asks that recognition by the
    civilised Powers which will enable it, with the assistance of
    their kindly offices, to erect upon the foundations of honest
    government and friendly trade and intercourse with all peoples, a
    peaceful and happy future.

    "The Chinese people are not untried in self-government.  For
    countless ages they ruled themselves; they developed observance
    of the law to a degree not known among other races; they
    developed arts and industries and agriculture and knew a peace
    and contentment surpassingly sweet.

    "Down upon them swept the savage hordes of an alien and warlike
    race.  The Chinese people were conquered and enslaved.  For 270
    years this bondage existed.  Then the Chinese people arose and
    struck a blow for freedom.  Out of the chaos and dust of a
    falling throne emerges a free and enlightened people--a great
    natural democracy of 400,000,000 human beings.

    "They have chosen to set up a Republic and their choice we
    believe is a wise one.  There is no class of nobility among the
    Chinese and they have no recognised royal family to set up in
    place of the departing {152} Manchu Royal House.  This is a great
    democracy.  The officials spring from the people and to the
    people they return.  There are no princes, lords, dukes among the
    Chinese.  With the Manchu throne removed there is left a
    made-to-order Republic.  Already we have provincial assemblies
    and our National Assembly.  Already we have a Republic with a
    full set of competent officials.

    "Within a very few days our constitutional convention will meet:
    arrangements for it were made long ago.  At this convention there
    will be fully authorised delegates from every province in China.
    A constitution of the most enlightened character will be adopted
    and new officers of the provisional government elected.
    Following this will come, under the provisions of the
    constitution, the provincial and national elections.

    "It is imperative that our government be recognised at this time
    in order that business may not be subjected to prolonged
    stagnation.  There is peace everywhere save at Hankow, but
    business cannot proceed until the new Republic shall be welcomed
    among the nations of the world.

    "We ask recognition in order that we may enter upon our new life
    and our new relationships with the great Powers.

    "We ask recognition of the republic because the republic is a
    fact.

    "Fourteen of the eighteen provinces have declared their
    independence of the Manchu Government and promulgated their
    allegiance to the Republic.  The remaining provinces will, it is
    expected, soon take the same course.

    "The Manchu dynasty finds its power fallen away and its glitter
    of yesterday become but a puppet show.  Before going it has
    stripped itself of authority by consenting to the terms of the
    proposed constitution which already have been made public.

    "The most glorious page in Chinese history has been written with
    a bloodless pen.

  "(Signed) WU TING FANG
        "(Director of Foreign Affairs.)"


And towards this end the Revolutionists were working.  During the war
each day had brought news of some province or part of a province
having gone over.  Li Yuan Hung and his associates were never morally
stronger than when Hanyang fell.  The military defeat mattered but
little, for the Chinese are a democratic people, and each day brought
more moral support.

{153}

The dynasty was still left standing, but in all other respects the
desires of the Revolutionists had been sanctioned by the Sovereign.
The Throne itself had been stripped of its power and prestige, and
had been forced to act at the dictation of the National Assembly.
The surrender on paper appeared to be complete, though it must be
steadily kept in mind that in China, less perhaps than in any other
land, are promises and concessions always held to be irrevocable.
Yuan Shih K'ai had been invested with an authority which was
practically supreme.  He was at once Prime Minister and
Commander-in-Chief of the Army and Navy employed against the Yangtsze
Revolutionists.  In the best interests of the Chinese people it was
to be hoped that they had been inspired by an unfeigned desire on
both sides to reach an accommodation without further bloodshed; but
in no country are delusive negotiations more habitually employed than
in China as a means of gaining time, and it was at least conceivable
that in the present crisis each leader would believe that time was on
his side.  In a few days it was expected that Yuan Shi K'ai's party
would show what degree of influence it could exert over the insurgent
provinces.  The number of these provinces continued to grow, and, in
at least some instances, the movement in them seemed to be deeply
tinged with a particularism which tended strongly towards separatism.

The Empire was, indeed, as a writer in the _Times_ put it, "bubbling
like a cauldron," but a good many of the bubbles may subside, under
judicious handling, with surprising rapidity.  What seemed certain,
however, so far as anything is certain in China, was that the old
Monarchy had fallen never to rise again, and that it would drag down
much in China in its fall.  It had long survived its day.  Its
servants, like the servants of Solomon in the Koran, had propped up a
corpse and summoned {154} kings and princes to do it homage.  They
bowed down before it, says the story, so long as it stood upright.
But at last the worms gnawed away the staff on which it rested, it
lay prone in the dust, and the world fell into confusion.

With the fall of Hanyang, millions of people, Chinese and foreigners,
were speaking or thinking chiefly of one question those days, What
would be the fate of the rebellion?  Bound up in this question were
many others, its corollaries.  Would the rebellion be now speedily
crushed, or succumb only after a prolonged civil war which would sap
the already decimated resources of the country, partly suspend and
disorganise business, and cause enormous destruction to life and
property?  Or would the Revolutionary forces quickly defeat the
Government armies, acquire following and resources by success, and
replace the existing Government at Peking with another and, if so,
what kind of Government?

One may understand, and to some extent sympathise with, the motives
and ideals of the Revolutionists without approving their course.  It
was generally agreed that the Government of China wanted reforming,
but there was wide divergence of opinion as to method.  Two general
hypotheses for reform seemed practicable: to impose constitutionalism
upon the present monarchical system and Dynasty, or to wipe them out
and begin anew.

It would profit nothing to change the Government of China unless the
change meant improvement.  If the present Dynasty would be
overthrown, what would replace it?  Another Dynasty, or a Republic?
A new Dynasty would, under existing circumstances, take for its head
some popular leader since none of the Chinese Royal House was fitted
for the place.  This might improve conditions in China, and it might
not.  A successful republic, with conditions as they were, was
practically impossible; and it is questionable if {155} a republican
form of government is suited to the Chinese nation and people.  None
of the elements of genuine republicanism existed in the Empire.  The
course of events, as caused by the Revolutionary party, was being
closely observed.  They had set out to fight for their freedom, and
now, with the fall of Hanyang, the military cause seemed lost.  All
nations were interested in the fate of China.  Already one Power, the
United States, was devising ways and means to safeguard against
abrupt and inharmonious international action, in case any action
became necessary.  The _Times_ expressed the view that the Revolution
would fail.  Present indications were that the opinion was well
founded.  But even if it failed, that revolt was to leave a deep
psychological impression on the reigning Dynasty, the Chinese, and
the world.

But what was happening elsewhere?

On December 2nd the following message was flashed over the wires:
"Nanking city has fallen.  Foreigners safe.  Revolutionists entering
city."  For many days a most determined battle had been going on at
Nanking.  The Revolutionists, fired with a zeal intensified because
of the fall of Hanyang, were endeavouring to get into the city--a
feat which seemed for long impossible.  The capture of the city of
Nanking was the counterpoise to Hanyang's loss.  Every one knows much
more about Nanking.  This city was the old capital of China, and of
more political importance probably than Hanyang--it would be made the
capital--and so the Revolutionists thought they still had the better
part of the bargain.  There is no space to dwell upon all the
terrible blood-shed, of the Manchu decapitations, and much of the
savagery which rendered the days leading up to the capture of Nanking
hideous to one's memory.  But it has so vital a bearing on the
situation that some reference to the city's capture is necessary.

"The long-expected happened this morning at 7 a.m.," said an American
writer on December 2nd, {156} "and the city is gone over.  The first
intimation that the end was near was Friday morning early.  The
previous night there had been very heavy fighting at Hsiakuan,
Taiping Gate, and the South Gate, especially about the fort just
outside the gate (Yu Hua Tai).  General Chang, commanding the
Imperialists, asked the co-operation of the foreigners in the city,
the terms upon which he agreed to the surrender of the city being as
follows:--

"1. No killing of the people in the city, or of the Manchus.

"2. No killing of his soldiers or officers.

"3. Safe conduct for himself out of the city on his way north via
Pukow, together with his own men.

"These were rather staggering for our faith to propose to a
victorious army which had its enemy demoralised, and most of the
officers were only too willing to admit it.  Furthermore, neither
Chang Hsuin nor any one else knew who was in command of the rebels,
nor where he might be found.  However, arrangements were immediately
made for our going out of the South Gate, and within half an hour we
were off, Mr. Tseo, U.S. Vice-Consul Gilbert, and myself, together
with four of the bodyguard of General Chang.  We went through the
South Gate just at twelve noon.  The comparatively few loyal troops
stationed on the South Gate, Tung Tsi Gate, Hung Wu Gate, and the
Chao Yang Gate in turn sent word on ahead down the wall not to fire
on us as we skirted the wall trying to find the rebel forces.  We
carried the American flag and also a white flag.  A few of the
thatched-roof houses along the way were burned, but few other signs
of war could be seen.  As we neared the Chao Yang Gate the shells
being fired from the lower peak of Purple Mt., apparently into the
Imperial or Manchu city, whistled through the air, but far enough
away to be only interesting.  It was not till we got within {157}
sight of the Ming tombs that we could see the rebels, most of whom
were on the top of the mountain, but we made for a small group on the
lower foothills, and about two o'clock came up to them.

"A quiet, self-contained person seemed to be in charge of the group,
and upon asking him where the general in command was, he replied that
he was that person, so we were extremely fortunate, and stated our
errand at once.  The first two propositions were agreed to very
readily, but of course the third was impossible.  We then got his
terms of surrender, which were:--

1. Chang Hsuin must surrender, but could live in any place in the
city he chose, where his life would be fully protected until the
final settlement of China's present difficulties.

2. All of his troops must lay down their arms in a certain
drill-ground in the city, and come out of Taiping Gate empty-handed,
and be permitted to depart one by one.

3. Government funds in the hands of the military authorities,
amounting to about $800,000, must be turned over to the new Power.

4. The above terms must be complied with by eight o'clock on December
2nd--that is, the next morning.

"After a pleasant farewell we returned to General Chang's yamen,
arriving about five p.m.  The General positively refused to consider
the terms, declaring that he would have to fight till death, and
could not be persuaded to alter his mind.  We told him that, such
being the case, we felt no longer safe under his protection, and
would ask for safe conduct out of the city, which was readily
granted, and plans were made for those not absolutely needed for the
Red Cross work to leave the city early the next morning.  However,
about ten o'clock, General Chang's secretary again came over, saying
that the General with a number of {158} his men had fled the city by
the I Feng Gate and were to cross the river at Pukow and try to make
their way northward.  In about an hour we were able to confirm this
rumour as fact, and so Dr. Macklin, who was personally well
acquainted with the highest officer, who had not gone out with his
General, and whose sentiments he knew, found out that he and his
soldiers--about a thousand--were willing to run up the white flag at
daylight, so we decided not to leave the city.  About five o'clock
Dr. Macklin with his officer went to the Taiping Gate, where they
were soon joined also by the American Vice-Consul.  The firing was
quite heavy by this time, it having begun before daylight, but as
soon as the white flag together with the American flag was seen the
General sent a messenger down to see what it meant, and when he knew
it was the peace representative of the day before and that the
soldiers were willing to surrender, he was willing that the loyal
officer with the Vice-Consul, Dr. Macklin, and Mr. Garrett come
outside and arrange the details.  This they did at once, and General
Ling, the rebel leader, and General Chao, the one highest in command
of the loyal troops in the city, stepped aside and made arrangements
that were mutually satisfactory, the character of which was not fully
divulged.  General Chao then made his men stack arms, and they
marched out empty-handed, and the laying down of arms of the
remaining loyal troops had proceeded satisfactorily all day, judging
by all appearances.  It was not long before white flags were flying
on Lion Hill forts, the Drum Tower, and many other places.  The
troops began to pour into the city and were detailed off to their
respective stations according to previously arranged plans
apparently, and the city began to rejoice after its long days of
waiting and uncertainty.  Occasional shots have been heard throughout
the day, but probably nearly all of them are for the moral effect
upon those inclined to take advantage of a possible confusion
to-night to loot."

{159}

Any one entering Nanking the day after would never have known from
the look of things that anything had happened.  Most of the
Revolutionary soldiers had entered the city.  An extra large force of
police were patrolling the streets; the people were going about their
business as usual and perfect order prevailed.  The Revolutionists,
unmoved from Wuchang, had gained Nanking and lost Hanyang: the
Imperialists had lost Nanking and had gained Hanyang.  This was the
position when peace was thought of.  On the last day of November I
was personally asked, as one representing the _China Press_ of
Shanghai, to publish the following statement to the world as
embodying General Li Yuan Hung's wishes:--


    "I desire an armistice in order to communicate with the other
    republican centres, that I may ascertain their views whether the
    conflict will be carried on or whether the Republicans will meet
    in conference with the constitutional monarchists to arrange a
    compromise.

    "I myself have all along desired to put an end to the internecine
    warfare, the bloodshed and suffering, the destruction of
    property, and the dangers of foreign intervention.

    "To this end I now declare my willingness to make any concession
    which will insure an end to the slaughter.  My plan is to have
    the Republicans and the Government proclaim an armistice so that
    the issues can be discussed by proper representatives of both
    parties.

    "If, however, the united Republicans of the nation desire the war
    to continue, I am willing to remain in the field and continue to
    the bitter end."


* * * * *

The issues were now, so it seemed, a Monarchical Government or a
Republican Government--the Manchus, every one believed, had been
eradicated for ever.  And at this juncture it will give the reader a
better idea of the political situation in Peking if I reproduce an
official statement published a few days previous by Yuan Shih K'ai.
It reads as follows:--


    "China has, through centuries, been in a sense loosely governed.
    We have had what might be termed a crude or patriarchal form of
    {160} monarchy, the slackness of the governing body resulting in
    the people developing little respect for government and very
    little understanding of the responsibilities of a people toward a
    government.  The present agitation for a Republic has carried to
    the people as a mass only the idea that popular government means
    no taxes and no government.  I can see in it, under existing
    conditions, no promise of stability, at least not for several
    tens of years.  Among the progressives of the Empire there are
    now two schools of thought, one favouring a Republic and the
    other a constitutional monarchy.  I doubt whether the people of
    China are at the present time ripe for a Republic or whether
    under present conditions a Republic is adapted to the Chinese
    people.  The situation in China is complicated by a number of
    different factors perhaps not understood abroad.

    "In the first place there still exists among the masses a strong
    sectional and provincial feeling.  While this has undoubtedly
    died out among those educated on modern lines, still this is only
    a comparatively small element of the country's vast population.
    In considering the form of government to give stability it is
    necessary to consider the vast majority of the people rather than
    the small minority.

    "It is already manifest that the interests of the different
    sections of the country are very diverse.  We find the advocates
    of Republicanism splitting among themselves.  The educational,
    army, local gentry, and commercial parties have all divergent
    views.  Small groups are being formed and struggling for
    ascendancy.  If that is permitted to develop on a large scale,
    there will be a split-up and this evidently will bring foreign
    interference and partition.  Although the Manchu government has
    done nothing that has drawn to it the hearts of the people, yet
    with the power of the people restricted as provided by the
    nineteen articles forming the constitutional bill of rights, the
    real governing power would be in the hands of the people.

    "The adoption of the limited monarchy would bring conditions back
    to the normal, would bring stability, much more rapidly than that
    end could be attained through any experimental form of government
    unsuited to the genius of the people or to conditions as they are
    found in China.

    "My love for China and the Chinese people is certainly as great
    as that of any of those who are advocating the radical step of
    establishing a Republic.  My sincerity in the cause of reform has
    been demonstrated.  I have undertaken what is really a stupendous
    task, not through any desire for power, nor love of fame but
    solely in the hope of being able to restore order out of chaos
    and to do some good for China.

    "I am still hopeful of reaching some compromise that will satisfy
    all elements of the people sincerely desirous of preserving the
    integrity of the country and restoring peace and stable
    government throughout the {161} land.  I believe the Chinese to
    be a reasonable people and that there is no desire on the part of
    any considerable element to see the country disrupted and
    destroyed.  What I am working for is a compromise with the
    advanced or Republican party with a view to ending the suffering
    and removing the troubles and complications with which this
    country is beset and threatened.

    "With regard to the character and magnitude of the 'independence'
    movements.  I do not regard the situation to have been carried
    beyond the possibility of compromise.  Governmental authority
    has, it is true, been overthrown in the capitals of most of the
    provinces and a few men in each have framed something similar to
    a declaration of independence, but this does not seem to me to
    imply absolute secession of these provinces.  In most of these
    capitals, the control is in the hands of conservative citizens
    who are holding the situation on something like a neutral basis.
    Their object is primarily to keep down anarchy.  They desire to
    preserve order, to protect life and the property of the people.
    While the more radical elements are insisting upon a republic the
    better elements seem to me to be neutral.  I have favoured a
    project to gather together from the different provinces the men
    who enjoy the confidence of the people in order that there may be
    a thorough discussion of the great question of what the form of
    China's government shall be.

    "I believe that question should be discussed sanely and soberly.
    It is too big a question to be discussed in heat and passion.

    "My only reason in favouring the retention of the present Emperor
    is that I believe in a constitutional monarchy.  If we are to
    have that form of government, there is nobody else whom the
    people would agree upon for his place.

    "Of course the reforms wiping out the distinctions between
    Chinese and Manchus must be made effective in any event.

    "The great question, the overshadowing question, is the
    preservation of China.  To accomplish this end all patriots
    should be willing to sacrifice secondary considerations of policy
    and of course all considerations of self.  My sole aim in this
    crisis is to save China from Dissolution and the many evils that
    would follow.  If we are to save China there must be a stable
    Government and at once.  Every day's delay is dangerous.  I hope
    the same progressive thought of the country will see this, and
    will co-operate with me to secure the all-important end.

    "The task I have undertaken is as thankless as it is stupendous.
    I am being subjected to misrepresentation, criticism, attack from
    all sides.  This is to be expected.  I must stand it.

    "But I do not intend to let it swerve me from my endeavour to do
    what I conceive to be my highest duty, which is to labour solely
    for the end of preserving China from disruption and from
    dissolution."


{162}

But about this time it was fortunate that the start of peace came, as
a surprise to us all.  Before Hanyang fell Yuan Shih K'ai had been
endeavouring--so it was reported from Peking--to get peace talk
started.  He was afraid of what was coming.

December 4th should be the day upon which the historian of the
Revolution will fix as the most important moment in the whole of this
war.  For at 8 a.m. a truce for three days commenced, and high
authority on both sides stated that both Imperialists and
Revolutionists hoped strongly that the lull of fighting would be
productive of definite terms of peace.  Sunday, Monday, Tuesday,
Wednesday, till eight o'clock in the morning--after then, what?  And
seeing that in China no thinking person is foolish enough to think
himself a prophet, even of the most truly expected, it seems that to
give a general idea of the situation at the front at this time would
be perhaps the best that one can do.  During these days I had several
conversations with high officers in both camps, and was perhaps
better informed on the possibilities than most folk, but from the
first I made up my mind that a great surprise awaited me if the peace
talk were successful.  I was frequently in the camps of both parties.
As for the Revolutionary party, there was hardly any camp left, if
buildings made it.  For a large fire at the Provincial Assembly Hall
had pretty well ruined that magnificent edifice, and General Li Yuan
Hung and his bewildered associates shifted their offices to a smaller
and more sheltered spot in Wuchang.  But it was very little use going
to them for information, for they themselves were wondering what the
victors intended to do.  They themselves had made full arrangements
for clearing out, had very little hope that Wuchang would be saved,
believed that Yuan's army would now sweep them up, and so had but
scant belief in the sincerity of Yuan Shih K'ai in calling for peace.

[Illustration: THE UBIQUITOUS BOY.  The last to leave the Sing Seng
Road when the Imperialists took possession was a boy, who coolly
blazed off all his ammunition.  The first to return was the small
boy--in search of fun or treasure.]

One morning I called at the office, just below the {163} Tachimen
Railway Station, to interview the secretary of Yuan--a Mr. Wong Kai
Wen--who had full administrative control here.  To be in the presence
of Mr. Wong is to be with a man who makes you feel his deep
thoroughness.  His essential alertness holds you.  His deep,
penetrating eyes look at the thing and take in the vital parts at a
glance.  He is acute, not to be deceived; frankness, touched with a
little Chinese sleekness, looks you straight in the eyes when he
speaks to you, and altogether the man Yuan chose to wait behind and
direct affairs at this end magnificently fills the bill.  About him
there were no signs of the military.  He knows practically nothing
about the way to lead an army into battle, but not a single thing of
official note passed him.  He looked just like a respectable member
of the teacher community.  His long dark-blue wadded gown and his
ordinary round hat, Chinese shoes and socks, his small queue, his
slender moustache, which he thoughtfully pulled at when he talked to
me--all these and many other characteristics told me that he was
typically Chinese.  There was nothing foreign about him in
appearance.  The things he used were Chinese exclusively.  In short,
he was a polished Chinese gentleman.  But when he addressed me he
spoke magnificent English--knows English etiquette as we know it
ourselves.  These were the rough impressions I got of the man when I
found him in a little back room of a private house near to the
Imperial base just after Hanyang had been captured.

About him there were many hangers-on.  With the military camp not a
hundred feet away there was intense excitement, which every one in
front of the foreigner was vainly attempting to subdue.  Men came in
with messages, and were quietly turned aside.  Wong rose several
times from his chair as he spoke with me, and hurriedly went to
listen to some spies who had a story to tell him.  'Twas all hurry,
all was organised capitally and worked smoothly, for there were many
{164} men on hand.  Along the lines carriages of ammunition were
going out towards Hanyang.  From Hanyang captured carriages were
coming, all tied low down with tarpaulins so that nobody could see.
Meantime, there was a rumour in the camp that Yuan had been
assassinated, and that the parties were talking peace.  And here was
Mr. Wong, Yuan's secretary, reading his dispatches and carrying out
his wishes.

Most ardent preparations for further fighting counterbalanced the
peace suggestions.  Was there to be any more fighting?  Ah, who knew?
It was not wise to talk of such things.  All this was exceptionally
difficult business that Chinese should fight Chinese.  But who could
bring forward any way out of it.  No; from Mr. Wong Kai Wen there was
no news to be got, but he let drop little things that led one
immediately to believe that Yuan's party were not in for talking
peace.  They had taken Hanyang, they would soon, so it appeared, have
Wuchang, and that would make the Revolutionary cause lost altogether.

This was the impression which the Imperial camp gave to me.  Then I
went over to the Revolutionary camp, finding that both factions had
many palpable differences.  To go into General Li Yuan Hung's offices
was to enter a semi-Occidentalised yamen.  The staff were dressed in
European clothes, they had no queues, their hats were mostly American
felts, they talked English more or less, many of them had been
trained in American universities.  They treated you in an Occidental
manner, told you their plans frankly, and one could feel that they
were to be believed.  They knew and they confessed that the military
cause here was gone, but when I questioned them as to the ultimate
issue of the Revolution they proudly pointed to certain epochs of
history in my own country and asked me whether I thought it possible
that the country could ever be again what it had been.  The
anti-foreignism of the north and the massacring of the foreigners at
{165} Sianfu in Shensi they deplored sincerely, and felt that it was
in the banditti and the hooliganism in the Empire that they had a
problem difficult of satisfactory solution.

I felt the sincerity of those men.  Their enthusiasm got into me, I
felt that they were a band of young reformers whose only fault lay,
not in their ability, not in their determination, not in their belief
in how things should be done, but in their little lack of stability
and lack of unity.  They believed that China must now change, and
that the change would not be the kind of change that the Manchu
Government would have brought in, but a real reform that would raise
the masses of the people and bring China out into the foreground of
the world.  And as I spoke to those men I felt it, too.  But there
was one failing, that slight lack of stability.  They needed leaders.
Not for one moment wishing to minimise the extraordinary powers of
calm foresight and sound administrative ability of General Li Yuan
Hung, which had kept the whole party together during its most trying
times of defeat, the Revolutionary party needed leaders who had been
in the business before.  They were all apprentices in the art of
administrative and national rebuilding, and they needed a few
master-men to guide them in their political journeyings.  If they
failed, however, it was not because they did not wish to do the right
thing, not because they did not know how to do it; but because of the
lack of downright practical experience; they were not able to give to
current events their current bearing upon their one mutual aim.

Here they were, a strong man at the head of them, and all looking
confidently towards him, like a lot of schoolboys with a teacher to
whom they looked for everything.  Immediately after Hanyang fell, the
Wuchang party were scared for fear the city would be bombarded and
they lose their heads.  Within forty-eight hours, however, they had
regained their courage.  {166} On November 30th, when I went over the
river, as my boat pulled into mid-stream, the boatman told me blandly
that he should expect at least treble rates, as he ran a great risk
in coming at all--the Imperialists were sniping at every boat, he
told me, and he felt it was only wise and fair to let me know.  Just
as he spoke I heard a bullet whizz past me.  In a couple of minutes
the big gun from Wuchang sent a shell away over my head, which drew
fire from a field-piece in the unskilled hands of a very poor gunner
on the Hankow side, the shell of which dropped noiselessly into the
water a few yards in front of my little boat.  Once on the other
side, however, there was no further fear from firing.  Rumours had
been flying round to the effect that Wuchang was being evacuated,
and, although on the river-banks people were building their boats and
mending their nets as usual, it did not take the mind of a Spencer to
take in the remarkable change that had so soon come over the city
since the fall of Hanyang.  A week previous I had been to Wuchang and
was impressed everywhere with the doing and driving of every one in
the streets and in the shops, with briskness of trade, and the
cocksureness of the people.  With their queues discarded they were
then doing a roaring trade in small cloth and silk caps, made after a
foreign pattern, which they wore proudly in defiance to the little
round Manchu hat.  These caps were met with at every turn, hung on
nails in the wall above the street-vendors' stall; they were fetching
as much as seventy cents apiece.  To-day they could be had for
twenty.  Men who had made their purchases now laid aside the foreign
article and fell back to the round hat with the little red knob on
the summit.  In the streets half the shops were closed, the other
half doing a little trade and meanwhile preparing to take away most
of the valuable stocks.  Huge loads were standing outside the doors
ready to be taken away as soon as the busy coolie gangs had time to
attend to them; old men and {167} women, carrying all their
belongings in small baskets, were tiao-ing as hard as they could go;
through the gates, now no longer guarded by a cocksure squad of
military, but thrown wide open, came the constant hurrying stream of
urban residents, who now were removing to the country.  In China at
such times as this one is held almost awestruck with the manner in
which people clear out.  Homes which perhaps had been held together
for many generations were being evacuated in a couple of hours--the
old father and the old mother took the children, the sons shouldered
the heavy family furniture, the wives hobbled along behind with the
babies, and altogether they silently went out of the city in a
mournful procession.  They hardly knew where they were going, but in
the city trouble was brewing, and they were taking no risks of being
shelled or burned out of their little hovels as had been done to
thousands of their race over the river at Hankow.

As I went into the city I must have passed five thousand
people--mostly in little processions of sixes and sevens, wending
their way through the gates out of range of the fire of guns.  I
could not help but look upon them in pity, for disappointment was
writ large upon their faces.  They were some of the great percentage
of the Chinese proletariat who delight to go with the crowd, like to
shout with the majority.  A fortnight earlier the Wuchang Republican
party was on the top, was commanding all that came before it, and
therefore did the thousands of the non-thinking portion of the
community of the capital city delight in being loyal supporters.  But
now the tide for the time seemed to have turned, they were being
bandied about from pillar to post daily, calamity after calamity
seemed woefully to overtake them, and they almost wished, as they
followed each slowly behind the other in common evacuation, that they
had hesitated before plumping for the Revolutionaries.  Tea-shops
were almost deserted, rice-shops did no business, one felt that {168}
the military activity was greatly bluff.  Wuchang had suddenly become
a forlorn city, and the inhabitants disappointed people.  Outside the
Assembly Hall the revolutionary flags flapped in the wind, and there
was little evidence that the conditions of affairs inside had altered
very much, but as I walked up the steps, showed my card, and asked to
see the General the staff officers looked askance at me, asked each
other whether I was of German nationality, and told me that for some
considerable time it would be quite impossible to see General Li.  As
I moved about the offices, however, I confess to some admiration at
the way in which, under all their adverse circumstances and the
consequent disappointment which the re-taking of Hanyang must have
been to them all, the officers were going about their work with a
quiet dignity and assurance that they were working on a thing that
was not soon to pass away.  One of the young fellows, a man of some
four-and-twenty, who one could easily see had been educated in the
States, told me that they, were all as confident as could be that
their present position was as strong as ever it was.

"The taking of Hanyang," he told me, "is decidedly unfortunate, but
we are making a new nation, a new country--we are not fighting
military battles any more.  There is now no further need for the
killing of men.  We are more concerned with the laying down of a new
Government, and are desirous of having peace.  Yuan Shih K'ai"--and
here he paid a fitting tribute to Yuan's power, although he was not
bewilderingly eulogistic of his political squareness--"does not want
to fight, so he says.  If he is true, why does he not withdraw his
army at once and let there be peace?  What we shall do now is to
retire down towards Shanghai, where we shall probably hold our first
delegates' meeting for the establishment of the Provisional
Government, and by so doing we shall show to the world that we are by
no means anxious to win our cause by killing our {169} own
countrymen.  If he wishes to fight, all the world will know now that
it is not merely because we are the Revolutionary party, but because
he will still be the aggressor.  Our policy of evacuating this city
is because we feel it wise to do so, so that fighting may cease, and
it is indirectly an appeal to the world on behalf of humanity--for it
takes two to make a fight."

But this was very far-fetched, for the Revolutionists were equally
keen to show that they had no intention of throwing up the sponge.
Nanking's success subsequently had the effect of firing them with the
fighting spirit again, and the fact that the Nanking troops were
expected to arrive at Wuchang--although this turned out subsequently
to be false--gave a new fillip of enthusiasm to the people.  "They
are not the new men, the recruits, they are the real trained
soldiers," cried the man-in-the-street, "as good as the best that go
to make up the Northern Army."  The news spread rapidly from mouth to
mouth, and the already excited soldiers showed increased anxiety
because it was feared in their ranks that the rival leaders would so
far be successful in their talk about peace that no further fighting
would take place.

But no one could get any definite news of how much nearer we were to
peace.  Meantime at Hanyang and on the Yangtsze above and below that
town strongest fortifications were being made.  That Hanyang was the
stronghold only a visit was needed to convince one; this, however,
was difficult, for only the very privileged were afforded passes to
go across the river.  Things were buzzing at Hanyang; the Imperialist
troops were itching for another battle, the whole place was fitted up
in a most complete manner for further warfare, the Tortoise Hill was
rendered absolutely impregnable, the camps were connected with both
telephone and telegraph, and the Imperial army was going about its
business as a body who understood thoroughly the business it was
following.

{170}

Whatever they may have thought they could do, however, military
experts declared that the Revolutionists had no position at all as
long as the Imperial guns at Hanyang were able to pour shrapnel into
them.  With the railway cut off, the supplies of the Imperial forces
would of course be cut off too, and in that way the Revolutionists
would perhaps have been able to besiege them at Hanyang; but it would
have been infinitely tedious.  The cruisers, even if they had had
ammunition, would under existing circumstances have been of little
use.  The four-point-seven guns at Hanyang would, with such decided
advantage in being able to bang at them from a point where their own
guns could not even been seen, have been able to silence them in a
very short time.  The damage that the Revolutionary guns would have
caused to Hanyang would have been infinitesimal, and altogether the
Imperial army would have held the trump card all the way along.  On
the face of things, it appeared little short of sheer madness for the
Revolutionists to think of fighting so long as Hanyang were made the
main Imperial base.  But the Revolutionists themselves did not think
so lightly of their chances.  They were determined, and among the
rank and file the war fever blinded the sight to all possibilities of
defeat.

Sufficient has been said, perhaps, to show that further fighting
would only take place to gratify the lust for blood of some of the
grossly misguided leaders of the rival armies.  Among the Republican
leaders--General Li Yuan Hung and his party, as distinct from the
military officers--the desire that war should forthwith cease was, I
believe, absolutely sincere.  General Li Yuan Hung had shown the
world that what he said he meant: one could not point to a single
public utterance from him and find that he had not done all that lay
in his power consistently towards working out his promises.  Li Yuan
Hung was a man of political solidarity--not brilliant, but solid,
sound, having an opinion {171} and fearing no one in stating clearly
and openly that opinion.  Not in one thing, but in dozens throughout
this dreadful season of disturbance he had shown that if he failed in
carrying out what he said he meant to carry out, it had not been
because of any inconsistency of his own so much as of treachery among
his army and instability among members of his party.  He had
announced frankly all along what he wanted, and what he would be
prepared to pay for realising sooner or later.

He now stated that he wanted peace--peace at all costs; to
re-establish peace and to ensure that the fearful bloodshed should
stop, he was prepared to make concessions.  The general conduct of Li
Yuan Hung, unmarred as it had been by any unharmonious note with
other members of his party and marked throughout by a stability of
purpose which had surprised the whole world, had been such that his
promises could be relied upon.  He had shown sufficient of himself to
warrant respect from all, friends and enemies alike, for he had acted
cleanly.  And now he wanted peace.

Meantime many of the most influential foreigners in Hankow were doing
all they could to assist in the bringing in of peace.  Merchants,
missionaries, officials, and others were all anxious to assist with
their influence for peace, and if war, with all its carnage and
bloodshed and savagery, were again to come to menace this central
part of China, it would come only as a direct desire from the
Imperial army and with far greater horrors than had yet been seen.

If further war were to come?  So much had been seen during the past
eight slow-moving weeks to show what devastation and utter social
wretchedness could be wrought when men elect to settle their
differences by force of arms.  The killing of men, the burning of
property--these are brutal features, but not the worst by any means.
By the side of the horrors that come along in the wake of these
ghastly battles, these are barely worth consideration.  The slain
are, after all, {172} out of the misery they have helped to make.  It
is those who remain behind--those widows with the hungry, half-clad
or naked children, homeless, foodless, friendless, with no roof above
them at night but the cold, steely sky--these are the ones who
suffer.  The whole countryside, with its homeless and foodless
people, its ruined, burnt-out hamlets and family homesteads, its
ruined rice-crops, its cruel waste so wantonly forced upon it by the
Imperialists, cried aloud in its weary desolation for peace.  If the
war were stopped, one thought that the bloody struggles of the past
few weeks would become powerful agents of civilisation, reshaping and
remoulding the Old China into a new land and a new people.  But
further war in that sad, sad country would tend only to make the
passions of the armies wax fiercer and the hatreds more bitter.

Peace negotiations meantime hung in the balance.  A fifteen-day
armistice was agreed to, and by that time it was hoped that the Peace
Conference would bring matters finally to a peaceful end.

* * * * *

His Excellency Tang Shao-yi is a magnificent fellow.  He is calm, an
infinitely human man, kindly disposed, easily approached, had borne a
character that was clean.  When he was appointed as plenipotentiary
to the Peace Conference for Yuan Shih K'ai, the Revolutionists were
pleased because Tang Shao-yi was known to be a man of extremely
liberal views, sound, and not unsympathetic towards real reform.  He
had spent some considerable time abroad, and, coming with full power
from Yuan Shih K'ai, was hailed with a good deal of pomp when he came
to Hankow.  In the British Municipal Building Tang Shao-yi had a
suite of rooms, and rested in Hankow for a couple of days before
going down to Shanghai, where, with mutual consent, the Peace
Conference was to be held.

It must be made known that, as soon as Hanyang {173} fell, Dr. Wu
Ting Fang, than whom is no better-known Chinese diplomat in the
world, assumed a very prominent position in the ambitious Republican
party.  Dr. Wu Ting Fang was generally recognised to be the best man
suited to carry on peace negotiations from the Revolutionary party,
and he, with several secretaries and advisers, met Tang Shao-yi and
his advisers in Shanghai on December 18, 1911.  This conference was
looked upon throughout the civilised world as an epoch-making event:
it was to be a red-letter day in future histories.  "Peace, peace,"
ran the legend.  Not only was one-quarter of the human race, and all
that country and honour and liberty mean to them, immediately
involved, but if one had the true prophetic eye he was able to look
out upon a change whose effects would spread to the uttermost parts
of the civilised globe.  The effects of this Peace Conference then
about to shape the future of this wonderful land were looked upon as
immeasurable, illimitable.  Dr. Wu Ting Fang, General Li Yuan Hung,
able leaders of a movement shaking Chinese life to its vitals, on the
one hand; Tang Shao-yi, Yuan Shih K'ai, representatives of the oldest
faction of the whole human race, on the other hand--upon these men
rested a world-wide responsibility it has seldom fallen to the lot of
men to have had placed upon them.

"Peace, peace; at all costs let us have peace."  So, sincerely as it
seemed, cried both parties.  That both sides were in earnest there is
every reason to believe.  Those who knew General Li Yuan Hung, the
youngest hero of the world, were able more and more to testify with
increasing knowledge of the man that he wished nothing more than that
China should be freed from the Manchu yoke.  All else he would forego
to establish peace that should bring prosperity, a peace that should
be permanent and knit the whole Empire together as nothing else
could.  Those who knew Dr. Wu Ting Fang realised that, as an able
leader of {174} modern thought and that party whose aim is progress,
he was sincere in all that he did to bring about a China enlightened
and able to stand in line with nations of the East and West.  Tang
Shao-yi was a man whose innate sincerity and true humility in high
places had won the confidence of all who knew him.  He was, as always
he had been, veritably a political prince of peace.  He loved his
country.

And finally Yuan Shih K'ai.  All knew him or of him.  Some praised
him, but it was a penalty of his greatness that some anathematised
him.  China to him also was as dear as his fame or his life.  There
were two pictures: a dawn of peace and tranquillity, a China freed
from all racial bitterness, a China plunging manfully out and in her
plunge being assisted by all the Powers of the world; the other
picture shows a China going down to the deeps of internal despair,
renewed hostilities, further bloodshed.  And all those who knew what
the war had been, those who had seen those twelve thousand mothers'
sons hacked and hewn and blown into eternity by infuriated members of
their own great race entertained merely one common hope.

I went down to Shanghai and remained in that city whilst the Peace
Conference was in progress.  To go from the scene of action in
Central China to Shanghai was to pass at one stroke from the din of
war to the tranquillity of peace and undisturbed civilisation.  Hard
indeed was it for any one who had been through the crisis in Hankow
actually to realise the peace of China's great metropolis--the
contrast was so enormous as to force it upon one's imagination that
the war was over, that peace assuredly had come.  One missed the
cannonading, the utter devastation and universal suffering, the
burnt-out hamlets and the homeless thousands all over the countryside.

Tang Shao-yi, when he called upon Li Yuan Hung, was reported to have
been very surprised at the meagre following that still stood by the
Revolutionary leader--of {175} course, several delegates had already
left for Shanghai, and he predicted that it would be only a matter of
time when we should see the Republicans forced in the very nature of
things to take the monarchical course.  That General Li Yuan Hung and
his supporters had been willing to sink their personal ambitions on
behalf of the general welfare of the country had again and again been
declared by their leader in the press and by other means.  But Tang
Shao-yi seemed, when I interviewed him in Hankow just before he
sailed for Shanghai, to believe that this was mere Chinese bluff; he
declared that they had no other course, and that they did this
because they foresaw that their popularity soon would be greatly
diminished when the gilt from the official gingerbread had rubbed off.

In the Hankow neighbourhood there were thousands who had no food to
eat, no clothes, who had no idea of how they were going to keep body
and soul intact during the coming winter, and some of the older
conservative school were beginning to question whether it was, after
all, worth the candle, and whether it would have been better to have
gone in the same old way, bad as that had been.  The result of the
war in which they took so lively an interest was coming upon them as
a horrible nightmare, and I am of the opinion that, although they
were as much passively in favour of reform as they had been,
four-fifths of the people were horribly tired of waiting for the good
times which then seemed farther off than ever.  All this was
depressing to Tang, coming among it for the first time.  But Tang
Shao-yi was most generous in his references to General Li Yuan Hung.
He thought that the zeal, the disinterestedness, and the abilities
with which Li Yuan Hung had carried out so successfully the general
principles of the Revolution, the persecution he had suffered and the
ignominy that his army had brought to him, and the firmness and
independence that he had shown under all circumstances should have
had a strong claim {176} upon the sympathies of all people.  But the
great preponderance of the common people, those who had been hit
hardest in the burning of their homes and the loss of all they
possessed, were inevitably downcast and wished that it would all pass
away and bring anything else so long as peace came with it.
Therefore, all looked eagerly to the peace delegates.  It was a
season most trying to the Revolutionary party, for they were all
waiting to see what the outcome of the negotiations would be; and
this lull allowed of a little respite for talk.  One department at
Wuchang was suspected of taking away the power from another, one man
from another; some thought that it would be better for General Li to
go away and talk peace, whilst others declared that he could not get
away because the party would not let him.

Tang Shao Yi, however, would not talk much about the general
situation.  He told me that he knew very little, that I should know
much more than he of what had happened, and would be able to make a
fairly good bid as to what would happen in the immediate future, and
in spite of the fact that he was Yuan Shih K'ai's chief peace
delegate he could not tell what was in Yuan's mind.  "And you see,"
he continued softly, "both sides are now so earnestly seeking for
peace that it seems to me that there should not be much trouble about
a complete settlement.  We realise that they [referring to the
Wuchang party] are so strong that we shall have to concede a good
deal.  There surely cannot be any more war, and if every one means
what he says and is prepared to do his best for the best common
interests, I think we shall soon complete the Peace Conference."

Tang Shao Yi then looked into the fire.  For some time neither of us
spoke.  He held his rheumatic-stricken arm under his fur gown, then
looked up and switched off from political theorising to small talk.

The Revolutionary delegates, when this Peace Conference {177} was
arranged, were in a frame of mind determined not to give way.  A
criterion of their attitude and aims for the Conference may be drawn
from the following interview I was privileged to secure as I
travelled down-river to Shanghai on board the same steamer with three
of General Li Yuan Hung's delegates.  The chief man was one Hu Ying,
whose main statement was as follows:--


    "Our attitude towards Yuan Shih K'ai is summed up in a single
    sentence.  If he obstinately upholds the Manchu Dynasty against
    the wishes of the people, then he is doomed for ever.  He may
    succeed in overriding the wishes of the people for awhile, but no
    single man, however able, will be able to stand in the way of the
    people.

    "We do not wish this to be a fight with arms.  We know that it
    would take a good deal of time for us to be able to stand man for
    man with the Imperial Army, but we know that we have half the
    world at our back."


Now, Mr. Hu Ying, this same man, some years ago narrowly escaped
losing his head for being mixed up in an alleged Revolutionary
escapade that cost his more enthusiastic confederate his head.  He
was the President of the Foreign Office of the Hupeh Government when
I interviewed him.  He was a man who to a very large extent had been
the prime mover in the Republican dream of the future.  For many
years a strong Revolutionist, he had, however, been called upon to
study the arts of Revolutionism in prison.  For when the Revolution
broke out he was still behind the prison bars in Wuchang, and under
normal conditions would have passed the remainder of a miserable life
dreaming of the great reforms he now hoped to help forward.  He was a
man who incontestably had the confidence of Li Yuan Hung.  Mr. Hu was
only one of a number of delegates sent down to join with Dr. Wu Ting
Fang in upholding the Republican side of the argument against Tang
Shao Yi and his assistants.  They all represented General Li Yuan
Hung and thoroughly understood his ideas.  Mr. Hu and another of the
{178} delegates--a Mr. C. T. Wang, who was a graduate of an American
University and in China held the responsible position of the National
Secretaryship of the Y.M.C.A. in China--were chosen to assist Dr. Wu
by representatives of the various Revolutionary provinces represented
at Wuchang.  Hu Ying was a short, rather stout Chinese, who told me
frankly that he felt fearfully out of it because he could not speak
my foreign words, and a man who would never be taken seriously at
first sight as one capable of shaping the foreign policy of the
Chinese Empire.  As a matter of fact, he was nervous with
foreigners--it may be, of course, that his long term in prison had
made him so--and looked up rather timidly over the steel rims of his
glasses as he spoke.  He laughed with buoyant candour over his own
jokes, and was somewhat of a caricature in his foreign felt hat that
was the only sign about him that he had ambitions for Occidentalising
his country.

This hat was worn far back over his head in much the same way as he
had been used to wearing the little round one; his glasses were
tilted forward considerably on his little squat nose, his uneven
teeth did not tend to enhance his personal beauty, and as one looked
down upon him the only item in his general appearance that came in
for admiration were his exquisitely furred silk gowns.  'Twas cold,
so he wore three of them, the top one a brilliant flowered blue.  He
was also a little short-sighted, had a slight stoop, endeavoured
vainly to grow a moustache, had a queueless head of outrageously
unkempt hair, and did not look a statesman.  But he was one.  In
those jet-black eyes one could often see the fire of unquenchable
enthusiasm as he spoke of the possibilities of his own country.  He
was, perhaps, what one would be justified in calling a typical
Revolutionist.  There was a cut about them all that was non-Chinese,
and yet at heart, in word, and thought, they themselves were
essentially Chinese.  Perhaps this {179} was not so striking at
Shanghai and other places on the coast, but one could tell in the
Wuchang centre at a glance those who were rampant Revolutionists; the
foreign cap worn on the rough, queueless head, the foreign boot, the
alleged foreign coat sometimes and other desiderata of clothing,
neither foreign nor Chinese, which had become sadly out of
joint--these were the undeniable characteristics.

"Of course, you have been a Revolutionary for some years, have you
not?" I asked Hu Ying.

Well, yes, he had.  Some years ago--and he looked half-ashamedly at
me, as if he were not quite sure whether it were now a fit subject
for review--a very dear friend of his had been beheaded, and he had
expected to be, for being rather outspoken and acting daringly along
the direct line of their thought in regard to the way in which their
country should progress.  His references to prison life were not
enthusiastic, although for sheer helplessness he laughed heartily now
and again during the conversation as he recalled certain epochs of
his years in gaol.  He thought it most unjust, of course, and now
that he was out and had been entrusted with the responsible duties of
partly moulding the foreign policy of a New China, he saw plainly
that his duty lay in working as hard as he could--and this, he
informed me, he fully intended doing.  The man who had lost his head
would have been a good man, too, just at this juncture, but the poor
fellow, a master in the Boone University in his time, had now paid
the price with his head.

"And I think that every man in China who believes in his country and
his own race can be nothing else than a Revolutionist--we are
reformers rather, and no matter whether we belong to the Republican
party, the Monarchical party, or any other party, if we love our
country as we should, we must all be Revolutionists."

His ensuing references to the Manchurian Dynasty, not bubbling over
with praise, could have no purpose {180} were they printed here, save
to show how great was the hatred of the Wuchang party towards the old
rulers of China.  During the conversation he referred to his
companion, Mr. Sun Fa Shu, a portly, aristocratic gentleman dressed
immaculately in latest foreign fashion--a long green tweed overcoat,
a slouch cloth hat, gloves, walking-stick, and all the rest of it.

Mr. Sun all along had been the right-hand man of General Li Yuan
Hung.  Nothing happened in the Revolutionary court without Mr. Sun's
knowledge.  He it was who framed all the Revolutionary edicts that
had awakened the world, and was looked upon as the scholar of the
camp.  To his finger-tips he was an aristocrat.  He spoke low and
slowly, thoughtfully always, gave little gestures now and again to
add to his meaning and to make it clear in Chinese, and showed great
approbation when we caught the drift of his argument.  Both these men
in their conversation were charitable to every member of the
Government, eulogistic of some, and would not have me for a moment
believe that they wished to say anything wrong about any one.  They
were, they said, merely telling me truthfully what they thought.  I
referred to the length of time negotiations would take, and suggested
that people would tire of waiting for the good times supposed to be
coming.  Did they think that the great bulk of the common people of
China actually understood what the issues were?

Mr. Sun, with his gold-rimmed spectacles shining in the sunlight,
looked from my feet straight into my eyes.  He spoke with low
emphasis.  "There is, perhaps, no other nation in the world," he
began, "that loves peace and is so good-natured and patient as the
Chinese.  Yet when they are provoked they strike back with vigour.
The Manchu arrogance and corruption are things which very few nations
could bear.  That we have borne them for over two hundred years shows
our patience, but"--and he raised his delicate finger with {181} a
slight shake to show his feeling on the point--"to everything there
is a limit.  The blow has now been struck, and the hundreds and
thousands of patriots in China will never lay down their arms until
the Manchu Dynasty is wiped out of existence and the Chinese once
more manage their own affairs and in their own way."  Here he
stopped, turned slightly in the indignation which his own thoughts
gave him, and remained looking at his companion, who said nothing.

"But if the Manchu Dynasty has done some harm, surely you must admit
that it has taught the people, no matter in what way, how to preserve
peace and to love it?" I asked perseveringly.

"Much of the backwardness of the Chinese nation, as a nation,"
retorted Sun Fa Shu, "has been due largely to the misrule of the
Manchu Dynasty.  Everybody knows it.  Everybody admits it.  Its first
principle has been how to keep the people of China as ignorant and as
poor as possible.  For knowledge and wealth, when acquired by the
Chinese, cannot but impair the supremacy of the Manchus, which has
been maintained, like highway robbery, by sheer force.  A China
emancipated, therefore, means a China prosperous and enlightened.
Except one or two nations whose principles are not above those of the
Manchus, and who delight in land-grabbing and carnage of warfare, we
feel sure that the world desires China to be a progressive and
enlightened country."

"But do you think the Revolutionary party, as it is, strong enough to
establish conditions which shall permanently make for peace and real
progress?"

At this point Mr. Hu Ying spoke.  He said that he was convinced that
they could, and if at first they could not institute ideal
conditions, they would if they were given time.  "The Anglo-Saxons,"
he continued, "have taught the world the great lesson of government
by representation--the Revolutionary movement aims at what they have
shown us.  We aim at the overthrow {182} of a decadent Court, and the
establishment of a Government which shall respond to the will of the
people.  In the endeavour to bring about such a representative
government, Young China, we know full well, has much to learn.  But
it has been conceded by all people that there is no school so
efficient as the----"

Hu Ying was waiting for a word when the third delegate, a graduate
from one of the American universities and an ardent enthusiast in the
New Government, gave the translation as "the school of experience,
the school of 'hard knocks,'" and thereby caused a smile.

"And," went on Hu, "let us have a chance to learn, and in a decade or
two the world shall see the possibilities and genius of our people
for representative government."

"What do you consider the main point upon which the two parties will
have difficulty in seeing eye to eye about at the Peace Conference?"
I asked of the three.

Simultaneously they spoke, and then the two gave way to Sun Fa Hsu.
With fitting dignity he replied that the one solitary point which the
Revolutionists would never waive was their demand for the abolition
of the Manchu Dynasty.  And so these three representatives of the
Revolutionary party of Wuchang were of one determined mind upon this
vital question; their party would waive anything else, perhaps, but
not that.  They were immovable.  I suggested that perhaps if peace
terms could not be arranged they might be forced to give way even on
this point also.  But they said they would not; "No, if there must be
Manchu rule again, then we must again go to war, much as we do not
wish to.  And there are thousands who will die before they again
submit.

"When that point is settled," said Sun Fa Hsu with some vigour, "then
all other points can easily be adjusted.  Upon that alone everything
hinges.  We are fighting for the freedom of our people from the
Manchu yoke."

{183}

"Do you in Wuchang still hold out so strongly for the Republican form
of government as you did?  I know that General Li Yuan Hung is
anxious for a Republic, but do you think there are many who would
rather see a Republic than anything else?"

"Whether we should have a Constitutional Monarchy or a Republic we
are prepared to leave with the people.  What they want we want, and
we are prepared to leave the matter for a decision by the vote of the
people.  For our part, we advocate a Republican form of government,
as the Chinese are democratic in their nature and their habits.  Even
under an absolute monarch careful observers of the Chinese political
tendency have remarked that the Chinese Government is a democracy
superseded by a monarchy.  In other words, the Imperial rule has not
been a natural outgrowth of the political habits of the Chinese
people, but has been allowed to exist simply because no better
substitute has been found.  We think we have now found the
substitute.  It is in a president who is responsible to the people,
and yet who, at times when emergency demands, could wield powers
greater even than those exercised by a king or an emperor."

"Do you think that Yuan Shih K'ai will be the first President?"

Mr. Sun did not speak for some time.  He waited for me to ask the
question a second time, and even then did not seem inclined to commit
himself.  At length he replied:--

"I do not know.  Our attitude to Yuan Shih K'ai may be summed up in a
single sentence.  If he obstinately upholds the Manchu Dynasty
against the wishes of the people, then he is doomed for ever.  He may
succeed in overriding the wishes of the people for a while, but no
single man, however able, will be allowed to stand in the way of the
people.  On the other hand, the opportunity now presents itself for
Yuan Shih K'ai to earn the everlasting gratitude of the nation {184}
in yielding to their wishes in putting an end to the Manchu Dynasty
once and for all.  If he does this, Yuan Shih K'ai will show himself
a wise man.  We know that it would take some time for us to stand man
for man with the Imperial Army, but we have half a world at our back."

[Illustration: DR. WU TING-FANG.  Minister of Law in the new
Republic.]

The above sentiments may be taken as a fair example of the views held
by the Revolutionary leaders on the point of meeting at the Peace
Conference.  These men, hitherto unknown to the world--always
excepting men of the stamp of Wu Ting Fang and Tang Shao-yi--were now
making history on a gigantic scale, reformers who had just sprung
into being as it seemed, but whose whole past bore testimony to the
manner in which they had been working for China's great era of reform
and progress.

* * * * *

In the following chapter will be found a _résumé_ of the Peace
Conference, unsatisfactory as it was in most respects.




{185}

CHAPTER XIII

THE PEACE CONFERENCE--A MONARCHY OR A REPUBLIC?

The Peace Conference met at Shanghai on December 18th.

Dr. Wu Ting Fang, who was the Chief Commissioner on the Revolutionist
side, is well known.  He was educated in Hongkong, and afterwards
qualified for the Bar in England.  He practised in Hongkong for a
little time, and also acted as Police Magistrate.  Later on he joined
the Chinese Government service under the late Marquis Li Hung-chang.
He became Minister to the United States, Spain, and Peru in 1896, and
was appointed Vice-President of the Board of Commerce and then of the
Waiwupu in Peking.  In 1906 he became Vice-President of the Board of
Punishments, and was engaged in revising the Chinese code of laws.
He retired in that year, and in 1907 went to the United States a
second time to represent China as Envoy.  He is a firm believer in
rational diet.  He originated and was made President of the Rational
Diet Society and anti-Tobacco Movement in Shanghai, which became very
popular.

Of the Revolutionary delegates, Wen Tsung-yao also hailed from
Hongkong, and was educated in the Government Central School in that
colony over twenty years ago.  After that he was engaged in the
Peiyang University in Tientsin.  From 1905 to 1908 he went to Canton
as Secretary to ex-Viceroy Tsen Chuan-hsuan, and in June, 1908, he
was appointed to Lhassa as {186} Assistant-Amban, and was removed
from office after the ex-Dalai Lama was deposed by Edict.  Wang
Chung-hui is a Cantonese student who graduated from college in
America.  He also studied in Europe, and is versed in law.  Wang
Chao-ming is celebrated for his attempt to assassinate the ex-Prince
Regent, for which offence he was sentenced to life imprisonment.  He
was released when the recent pardon was granted to all reformers and
political offenders.  Wang Cheng-ting, who is a returned student from
the United States, and Hu Ying are delegates appointed by General Li
Yuan Hung.

                #Tang              Wu
                Shao-yi         Ting-Fang*
            +------------------------------+
  #Er Kuan  |      o                o      | Wen
  Chan.     | o                          o | Tseng Yao.*
            |                              |
  #Hsu      |                              | Wang
  Ting Lin. | o                          o | Chou Wei.*
            |                              |
  #Chao     |                              | Wang
  Chun Ni.  | o                          o | Chow Ning*
            |                              |
  #Feng     |                              | New
  Ih Tung.  | o                          o | Yung Kee.*
            |               o              |
            +------------------------------+
                     Wang Chen Ting.*

* Republicans.  #Imperialists.


Up to the time my manuscript went forward to the publishers I was
unable to get any special information regarding the Imperial
delegates.  Of Tang Shao-yi, however, much is known.  He had played
many an important part on the political platform of his country, and
was, undoubtedly, a man calculated safely to direct the affairs of
the Imperial side into safe channels.  At the time he was appointed
to represent Yuan Shih K'ai he occupied an important position, and,
because he had {187} had a career most successful as a diplomat, was
chosen as the man of all the men the Imperial body were able to
secure as most likely to commit no political errors.  Tang Shao-yi is
one of the ablest statesmen in China to-day.

The table at the Conference was arranged as on opposite page.

For more than four hours these two Cantonese--Wu and Tang--with their
colleagues, held secret conference in the Town Hall of Shanghai, with
the object of deciding on terms of peace which were expected to
involve a decision as to the future form of government in China.  At
the end of the session the following statement, initialed by both
commissioners, was handed out as a memorandum of the happenings of
the day:--


    "1. Exchange of credentials.

    "2. Commissioner Tang agrees to wire Yuan Shih K'ai conveying the
    demand of the Republicans that the order to stop fighting and
    capturing of places by the Manchu Army should be carried out
    effectively in Hupei, Shansi, Shensi, Shantung, Anhui, Kiangsu,
    and Fengtien, and that no further conference should be held until
    a satisfactory reply from Yuan Shih K'ai has been received.

    "3. Commissioner Wu agrees to wire to General Li Yuan Hung of
    Hupei and the Republican Generals of Shansi and Shensi ordering
    them to discontinue fighting and further attacks upon the Manchu
    troops."


At the opening of the Conference Mr. Tang made a short address.  He
told of his appointment to come to Shanghai for the Conference, and
expressed the hope that it would be successful.  He then presented
his credentials to Dr. Wu.  The latter examined them, and then
expressed a similar hope that the Conference would result in great
good for China.  His credentials were then given to Mr. Tang, and the
Conference was begun.  Although these assistants were admitted to the
meeting they had no voice in its affairs, the two commissioners alone
carrying on the discussion.  No one of Dr. Wu's assistants was
allowed to address Mr. Tang directly, nor were any of Mr. Tang's
assistants allowed to {188} address Dr. Wu.  Instead they could offer
suggestions to their leaders, either by written note or by whispers.
Tang Shao-yi expressed his personal readiness to accept Dr. Wu's
demands for a Republic, but deferred a definite answer until he had
communicated with Yuan Shih K'ai.  With the exception of an agreement
that the armistice should be extended for a week, ending December
31st, this was the result of the Conference, as told in the official
statement given out at the end.  The statement, headed "Authentic
Account of To-day's Peace Conference," was as follows:--


    "1. It is mutually agreed that the armistice should be extended
    for a period of seven days, i.e., from December 24, 8 a.m., to
    December 31, 8 a.m.

    "2. Dr. Wu Ting Fang advocated the necessity of establishing a
    Republican form of government for China.  He believed that China
    is fully prepared to welcome a new Republic.  He said, in
    substance, as follows:

    "The people of China will accept no other form of government than
    a Republic founded upon the will of the people.  Since we can
    appoint delegates to represent us both in the various provincial
    assemblies and in the National Assembly at Peking, why are we not
    qualified to elect a President as the Chief Executive of the
    nation?

    "The Manchus have shown their utter impossibility to govern the
    people for 267 years.  They must go out.  A government may be
    well likened to a trading company: if the manager through
    incapacity or dishonesty causes the failure of the concern, he
    has no business to continue in office.  A new manager must be
    elected by the shareholders.  The Republican Party does not
    intend to drive the Manchus out, nor to ill-treat them.  On the
    contrary, they want to place them on perfect equality with the
    Chinese, enjoying together the blessings of liberty, equality,
    and fraternity."


The official statement of the day's proceedings, as handed out to the
Chinese newspapers, was practically the same as that given to the
foreign papers, except that it contained the following additional
statement as being made by his Excellency Tang Shao-yi:--


    "Personally, I am in favour of a Republic, which is the only
    solution of the present crisis.  But we must not in the
    Conference overlook the integrity of Manchuria, Mongolia, Tibet,
    and other dependencies."


{189}

To which Dr. Wu replied:--


    "The Republic does not denote the integrity and union of the
    eighteen provinces only."


Tang Shao-yi replied to this:--


"I will have to telegraph to Yuan Shih K'ai as regards the Republican
question."


This Conference between the plenipotentiaries of the Peking
Government and the Revolutionary groups was looked upon as a meeting
of tremendous importance to the nation of China.  Indeed, it was not
too much to say that the fate of the Empire was to turn on the issue.
The whole world would observe the proceedings and criticise the
outcome with intense interest.  Tang Shao-yi and Wuting-Fang, chief
plenipotentiaries of the opposing parties, were to either earn the
applause of civilisation or be condemned for having failed to rise to
the opportunity of setting China firmly in the path of progress,
which was to be presented by this extraordinary collocation of
circumstances.

First may be considered what the situation probably would be if
hostilities were resumed.  At present the Yangtze River approximated
a dividing line between territories controlled by the Government and
Revolutionaries.  Some localities north of the river had been in
revolt, but a majority of these had returned to Imperial allegiance,
being apparently satisfied with the concessions granted, and others
showed a disposition to do the same.  It seemed reasonable to assume
that if the nation were to have civil war the country would divide
north against the south, with the Yangtze River as a general line of
demarcation.

The Peking Government had the advantage of being recognised by
foreign nations, a condition which would continue while it remained
in possession of the capital and any considerable region surrounding
it.  It had almost all of the modern drilled army, and a great {190}
majority of the trained officers.  It had better military equipment.
The Government still controlled the Imperial railways of North China,
the Peking-Hankow Railway, and the Tientsin-Pukou Railway over the
greater part.  Thus it would be able to concentrate troops at any
given point along or north of the Yangtze more easily than the
Revolutionists.  Moreover, the Imperial troops were accustomed to and
equipped to endure a cold climate, and winter had the northern part
of the country in its grip.  What forces the Revolutionaries could
put in the field north of the Yangtze River was not definitely known.
Except a few thousand trained troops, any army assembled for the
purpose of advancing upon Peking or resisting an advance of the
Imperial Army would be composed of raw recruits officered in the main
by inexperienced men.  Such an army would be ill provided to
undertake a winter campaign in the north.  Without further analysis
the mooted march of a Revolutionary Army to Peking could be dismissed
as visionary, unless it was assumed that the Imperial Army was
disloyal and would desert the Government.  There was now no very
tangible basis for such an expectation.  Yuan Shih K'ai, the creator
of the new army which had always been loyal to him, still held the
respect of the soldiers.  It was one thing for the new army and its
leaders to be dissatisfied with the old order of things at Peking: it
was quite another to assume that it was dissatisfied with the form of
government proposed by Yuan Shih K'ai, its former and present
commander.  The army knew Yuan, and what to expect from him.  It did
not know the Revolutionary leaders, except one here and there, and it
did not know what treatment it would receive from a Revolutionary
Government after what had happened.  If it were assumed that the
Northern Army would remain loyal to Yuan Shih K'ai, an early
occupation of Peking by the Revolutionists was practically
impossible.  This was a task which would require a campaign of a year
{191} or perhaps more--if it could ever be accomplished.  The
Imperialists might not have been able to penetrate south of the
Yangtze, but they would have had no great difficulty in holding the
territory under their control.  And in the event of schisms and
disintegration of the Republicans, the Government should have been
able in time to recover its dominion in all the provinces.  This was
a phase which the Revolutionists had to consider.  Hitherto the
processes of disintegration and discontent had worked almost
altogether in their favour.

Prolongation of hostilities, therefore, would seem to presage a
temporary, perhaps a permanent, division of the Empire into two
parts, and the subjection of the country and the people to the
horrors and disasters which inevitably attend such internecine
struggles.  The calamities which would befall under these
circumstances were obvious.  Six months of such conditions would
probably create a counter-revolution in the southern provinces.
Conditions in the north would have been somewhat similar, but
probably not so bad, as the Government had a firmer grip on affairs
and would be able to keep outlawry within bounds.  In this discussion
it is assumed, of course, that Chinese would be left to fight it out
among themselves, without foreign intervention.  Foreign
intervention, which it would be difficult to avoid if hostilities
were to be prolonged indefinitely, would bring its own problems and
dangers.  Such aspects were presented by the alternative of war.

These were some of the chief considerations which were to weigh upon
the plenipotentiaries.  There seemed only one point of serious
divergence--whether the new Government would follow the Monarchical
or the Republican form.  If the former were elected, it probably
would mean that the present Dynasty would be retained, although
perhaps reigning under a different name, for neither Revolutionists
nor Monarchists had another emperor to propose.  If a Republic were
to be decided {192} upon, the Government which would be instituted
would differ only in title from a Constitutional Monarchy; therefore,
the argument was more about mere terms than about realities.
Objections to the retention of the monarchy were based upon two
principal theories.  One was that with the Manchu Dynasty on the
throne the liberty of the Chinese would not be secure--that the
Dynasty must be overthrown and the capital removed from Peking in
order to shake off for ever the atmosphere and associations of the
old regime.  Another objection was that, under the monarchical form,
Yuan Shih K'ai would be virtual dictator, and then he would use his
power to place himself on the throne.  In certain quarters Yuan was
certainly credited with having this ambition--as one Chinese put it,
he wanted to be China's Napoleon, not her George Washington.  But it
seemed that if Yuan had this ambition, a Republic such as would of
necessity exist in China would be exactly what he would want.
Napoleon began his rise to power as a Republican.  If Yuan desired to
make himself emperor, he could adopt no more favourable course than
to accept the presidency of a Republic now, biding his time, as
Napoleon did, until the inevitable reaction set in, and the
transition back to an Empire would be comparatively easy.  On the
other hand, continuation of the Dynasty and Imperial forms
constituted a check on such ambition, if it existed, for it provided
a focus for loyalty of the people without in any practical way
hampering administration of the Government on constitutional lines.
Should Yuan Shih K'ai concede the point at issue and assent to a
Republic, what then?  A Republic would have the same difficulties as
a Constitutional Monarchy, difficulties which well might baffle the
ablest statesmanship.  If peace should be established, there still
would remain all the great problems which make China an invalid among
nations, accentuated by famine, and the strain of the Revolution.
Could a Republic solve these offhand?  Or would {193} a republic have
a better prospect?  If there were any difference in favour of either
of the two forms of government a Constitutional Monarchy would have
less difficulty.  A Republic would be handicapped in its attempts to
restore order, and put the administration of the Government back on a
normal basis by expectations of the people which it could not fulfil.
To do this it would be compelled to have money.  It would be
compelled, almost immediately, to make a foreign loan, a policy which
Revolutionists had been denouncing in the Peking Government.  It
would be compelled to continue many forms, conditions, and processes
which Revolutionists had criticised in the Manchu Government, and had
led the people to expect would be abolished immediately.  It would
have to resume collection of taxes in localities where the
Revolutionary Press had led the people to believe they would be
reduced or abrogated altogether.  It would, until a new code be
devised and put into operation, have to administer the existing laws.
In short, a Republican Government would be absolutely compelled to do
many of the things which its leaders had been criticising the Manchu
Government for permitting.  It would have to reckon with a large
number of upstart leaders and their henchmen brought forth by the
Revolution, and who one and all looked forward to securing good
positions in the new Government.  What the immediate future of China
would be under a Republic none could at the time of the Conference
foresee.

And although the issue of the Revolution remains still in doubt, one
was at the start of the Conference in a better position to realise
the nature and strength of its motive forces.  Clearly this
Revolutionary movement in China was not inspired solely or even
mainly by the desire to press through a reform, too long delayed, of
the corrupt Chinese Government.  Nor was the general cry that the
Manchus must be eliminated due solely or even mainly to a
well-grounded disbelief in {194} the will or the power of the Tartar
Dynasty to break with its tradition of misrule.  The movement, which
had spread like wildfire throughout the length of China, from the
province of Chihli in the extreme north to that of Kwangtung in the
extreme south, was clearly a national uprising of the Chinese against
what was regarded as a degrading foreign domination.  It had borrowed
the political cries of the Liberal West; it had clothed itself, in
those centres where it was victoriously established, with the forms
of republican government; but its dynamic force was derived, at least
among the ignorant masses, for whom constitutional government was a
meaningless phrase, from the traditional feelings of a people which
had for three hundred years past been restive under the Tartar yoke.
Nothing could show this more clearly than what had everywhere been
the first act of emancipation--the cutting of the queue, for the
shaven head and queue were imposed in the seventeenth century upon
the Chinese as a symbol of subjection by the conquering Manchus.
Everywhere people had, from the start of the Revolution, been taking
off their queues, and, although an Imperial edict had made it
optional for the people to discard or retain them, the Imperialists
had killed hundreds of peaceable folk merely because they were found
without their queues.  The rebellion thus took its place in a series
of national uprisings against the Tartar rulers, and it was, as will
be seen in the later portion of this volume, not without significance
that it gained its most conspicuous initial successes precisely in
those maritime provinces in which the appearance of the dispossessed
Chinese Ming Dynasty held out longest against the Manchu usurpers.
If the movement had taken on fresh forms, said a writer in a London
journal, this was due to the exigencies of changed conditions.  The
Kwangsi rebels in 1850 set up as Emperor, with the name of Tien-te
("heavenly virtue") a youth said to be the representative of the
{195} last Ming Dynasty.  The movement languished until the
redoubtable Hung Siu-tsuan swept the Pretender aside, courted foreign
favours by declaring himself a Christian, and, after capturing
Wuchang and Nanking, proclaimed himself the first Emperor of the
Taiping Dynasty as Tien Wang ("heavenly king").  His hideous
atrocities, continued the writer quoted, and a too fantastic
description of the physical attributes of the deity--the outcome of a
"vision" intended to impress the missionaries--alienated all foreign
sympathy, and on the eve of his complete success his power was
shattered by the Government troops, organised and led by "Chinese
Gordon."  The secret of his power lay in the absence of the
legitimate "Son of Heaven" of the old Dynasty, in his claim to a new
commission from Heaven itself.

[Illustration: YIN CHANG.  Minister of War of the Manchu Government
at the beginning of the Revolution, and Commander-in-Chief of the
Imperial Troops in Hupeh Province.

TANG SHAO-YI.  Peace Commissioner for the Manchu Government and
Premier of the Provisional Military Government of the United Republic
of China.

FENG KUO-CHANG.  Commander-in-chief of the First Expedition of the
Imperial Troops for the Relief of Hupeh.]

Now, General Li Yuan Hung and those associated closely with him made
no such claim.  The younger Revolutionists were, for the most part,
trained in the schools of the West, and their appeal for Western
sympathy took a new form.  At the time it was impossible to foresee
how, in the long run, the idea of a democratic Republic would appeal
to a people steeped in the political philosophies of Confucius, with
its conception of parental rights and filial duties as the
fundamental basis of government.

So far, indeed, the claim that from Chihli to Kwang-tung, and from
Shantung to Szechuen, the provinces had approved the Republic seems
to have been justified.  It would seem, then, that, no scion of the
old Imperial house being available, the Chinese would have been able
to reconcile themselves to the creation of a United States of China,
under an elected President, in which case it was at the time
interesting to speculate whether a too patent breach with the past
might be avoided by retaining a ceremonial "Son of Heaven," who, like
the King Archon at Athens or the Rex Sacrificulus of Rome, would
continue to offer the traditional sacrifices to the Fountain of
Authority.

{196}

It was to decide this and much more that the Peace Conference of last
December was convened, but nothing but disappointment followed.

The plenipotentiaries, themselves actually agreeable to the main
issue at stake, were overruled by Yuan Shih K'ai.  Day after day
wires were passing frequently between Yuan and Tang, and all looked
anxiously towards Shanghai for the final word of the war.  The
Republic seemed already to have been born, and the five-coloured flag
in Shanghai's streets heralded its dawn.  But Yuan was obstinate,
obdurate as a mule.  In the end, after endless discussions on the
situation, he repudiated Tang Shao-yi's power, declared that Tang
could not finally negotiate upon any question, although his
credentials showed that in him full power had been invested, and in
the end the Conference merely "fizzled out."

The next scene presents Dr. Sun Yat Sen on the Republican platform.
The civilised world then looked to him to solve this political
conundrum--and he was voting plump for the Republic.  He had now
arrived in Shanghai, and his presence totally altered the
situation.[1]


[1] The following article, from the pen of Charles Spurgeon Medhurst,
setting forth the claims of a Republic and a Monarchy, and printed in
the _China Press_ of Shanghai, on December 13, 1911, will be of
interest to the reader at this juncture:--

"Representative government with a scion of the Dynasty, not
necessarily the infant Emperor, as its head, or representative
government without any link with the past, is the problem on which
hangs the issue of peace or war in China, and yet, so far as the
freedom of the country is concerned, the difference between these two
ideals is as the distinction between the good old English russet
grown in the West of England, and a bellflower cultivated on the
western slopes of the Pacific.  Both are good eating apples.  The
preference for one before the other is a matter of taste.  One may,
indeed, almost say that the Imperialists are Republicans, and that
the Republicans are Imperialists, for the Republican insists as
strongly as his brother Imperialist that there must be a strong
central authority, and the Imperialist {197} clasps hands with his
Republican comrade in his anxiety that the control of national
affairs shall be in the hands of the people.  To borrow an expressive
simile recently used by Dr. Wu in reference to something else, the
bottle is different but the brand is the same.  Each side is pledged
to give the nation freedom from all authority, excepting such as the
nation itself imposes upon itself.  Between Imperialist and
Republican the difference is, in reality, one of form and not of
substance.  A general recognition of this fact will clear the
atmosphere, and make it easier to perceive the imperative needs of
the moment.  There is the more urgent demand that this should be
brought about because in their enthusiasm over the prospects of the
new dawning day many of our Chinese friends have mistakenly persuaded
themselves that Democracy is the greatest gift the Occident has for
the Orient.  But the last mail brought us a message from Dr. Inge,
the Dean of St. Paul's in London, that Democracy is perhaps one of
the silliest of modern fetishes.  It is incumbent, therefore, on
those of us in China who agree with the Dean to speak out plainly at
this critical juncture, lest our Chinese hosts blindly step on to a
devious and a dangerous path.  The duty becomes still plainer when we
recall a recent speech by Dr. Sun Yat Sen, in which he hinted that
universal suffrage for men and women would be the note to which the
tune of the new Republic would be keyed.

"For any good result to come from a universal suffrage there must
have been many previous years of universal education, but even with
this advantage Democracy becomes for the most part little more than a
dream, a good catchword but impossible politics.  Constitutional
government has nowhere as yet been perfected.  The best we have is an
adaptation of realities still unrealised.  Like everything else at
this stage of our progress, it is a compromise.  Its methods give no
sign of finality; in all countries it is what must take place in
China, an adaptation to existing circumstances.  None know better
than the Chinese that co-operative compromise with the ideas of
others is the foundation of all order.  What else are the mutations
of the Yin and the Yang?  If these do not harmonise disorder ensues.
In the same way there can be no peace in China until Republicans and
Imperialists work together.  That autocracy has been abused is no
reason why Republicans should seek to replace it by a system which
many residents of democratic countries, as witness the observations
of the London dean, are beginning to regard as false in its premise.
Because a revolution has shown it to be the will of the country that
there should be a change in the administration of Chinese affairs
there is no reason why Imperialists should not unite with Republicans
in friendly conference, and see if between them it be not possible to
evolve an administration better than any now existing, and thus
magnify their proud position of being the oldest nation in the world.
Both sides are Chinese.  Why not meet and set younger civilisations
an example in civics?

"If democracy be a dream, self-government is an illusion.  There
never has been and never will be any society, or any body, which is
self-governed.  We are not even free to wear the clothes our
inclination suggests.  Madame Fashion cuts the cloth and purchases
the material.  Government (to quote a French expression) is always an
'affair of two.'  Like love-making, it is a matter of one yielding to
the other.  In the same way self-respect is not self-respect but the
approbation of my lower to my Higher, the God within me.
Self-control is not self-control, but the obedience of my passional
nature to the Divine enshrined within.  Self-government is not
self-government, but the government of one part by another part, of
the unfit by the fit, of the masses by the classes, of the uneducated
by the educated.  Anything else would be incompetence, injustice, not
liberty.  There cannot be equality and fraternity in government.
There is much truth in Lao Tzu's paradox, 'When the people are
difficult to control it is because they possess too much worldly
wisdom.'  Democracy is an idol many of its worshippers are ceasing to
respect, and facts should be known before a temple to its honour is
erected in China.  What is wanted is an Autocracy in its proper
place, not an autocracy of birth, of money, or of clamour, but an
autocracy of character, of self-sacrifice, and ability.  This is
China's hour, a challenge to her strong men to devise something
characteristic of herself, and not merely to imitate Western
Constitutions.

"If this is to be successfully accomplished, preconceived ideas must
be kept fluid when the peacemakers meet in the coming Conference.
Republicans must remember that to imagine a Democracy without an
oppression is idle.  Imperialists must consider that to interfere
with the rights of another is wrong.  Republicans must not forget
that every democratic government rules by majorities, and that when
the wishes of the minority are overridden an Autocracy in its wrong
place has been substituted for Democracy.  Imperialists must not lose
sight of the truth that the yoke laid on the defeated party is no
easier to bear because the coercion comes from an opposing political
body and not from one or two accredited officials, and that coercion
of any sort invites rebellion.  Let both sides consider that wisdom
does not always dwell with majorities.  History supplies many
instances where the minority of one was right and all the rest wrong.
Being right, he might perhaps efface himself and yield to the general
wish, but he cannot properly be coerced.  If Democracy be right, then
coercion is necessarily wrong, whether the pressure be exercised by
individuals or majorities.

"The proper basis for an orderly arrangement of men's common
interests is that all concerned shall discuss in a friendly way with a

{199} Vacant page?

view to agreement.  If this prove impossible, then as a general rule
(subject to the elastic dictates of common sense) the question
should, if possible, be shelved as being unripe for decision.  If
government by party, such as exists under all Constitutional
Governments be right, if it be right for one party because stronger
to compel the other party because weaker to submit to its ruling,
then might becomes right.  In that case Imperialists and Republicans
should continue their fight until one has crushed the other; in that
case the Powers whose interests are jeopardised by the continuance of
the conflict should step in and apply their might also, that right
may be enthroned.  If, however, Force be always evil, if the
universal practice of Constitutional Governments in regard to
minorities be wrong, it follows that whichever side refuses to
compromise in the present struggle is also wrong, because by such
refusal reliance is placed on the strength of the arm, instead of on
the might of TRUTH.

"In any event it is ironical inconsistency to employ the harsh
arbitrament of war to decide such a question as the supremacy of the
will of the people until, at least, a vote has been taken and the
consent of those who have lived within the area of the fight has been
obtained to the unavoidable destruction of their property.  As there
is no conscription in China the position of the soldier need not be
taken into account.  At present the few have spoken for the many, the
leaders on both sides have imposed their will on their followers, and
the masses are afraid to speak.  I cannot guess what the verdict on
the Revolution would be were every one heard from individually, nor
does it affect the point at issue.  The simple fact remains that
grave wrongs have been inflicted on thousands who have had no chance
to assent or to protest, and that for the rest of their lives they
will be worse off than they would have been under the most tyrannical
government.  If it be argued that this 'evil' was unavoidable, that
the Revolution was a cruel necessity, the answer is that it should be
concluded as speedily as possible and recompense given to those who
have suffered.  Every unrequited wrong committed in its name, or on
its account, will be a weak spot in the new Government's armour.

"If these paragraphs are felt to be mere counsels of perfection, they
at least emphasise the terrible hurt that will be inflicted on
Righteousness should the fighting be resumed.  Conciliation,
submission, compromise are the foundations of Truth and of Liberty,
the binding forces of society everywhere.  It is not strength but
weakness which refuses to swerve from an assumed position.  The
bravest men are not afraid of inconsistency.  As Michael Wood says:
'Humility is the strength of God: the power of everything worth
having.  It does not grovel: it is strong.  It is seeing true: it is
having your values right.  It is knowing what matters and what is
rubbish to be flung away.'  Or as Jacob Boehme put it: 'He to whom
Eternity is as Time and Time as Eternity is free from all strife.'
In a word, Democracy can only succeed where all the people are
aristocrats, and now is the time for the leaders on both sides to
prove their aristocracy and their fitness to rule, by gracefully
yielding each to the other.  China has always set the world an
example in this particular.  She will surely not fail on the eve of
what will doubtless be the most glorious chapter of her memorable
history."

{198}

[Transcriber's note: this page was entirely taken up by part of
footnote 1, which is now on page 196 in its entirety.]

{200}

[Illustration: HWANG HSING.  Generalissimo of the Nanking Provisional
Military Government and Chief of the General Staff of the Republic of
China.

DR. SUN YAT-SEN.  First Provisional President of the Republic of
China]




{201}

CHAPTER XIV

THE COMING OF SUN YAT-SEN

Sun Yat-sen for many years has been known the world over as the most
effective Revolutionary China has ever produced.  For many years he
had been the leader of a revolutionary movement among Chinese abroad,
and his life was practically devoted to travelling to foreign
countries, keeping his exiled countrymen versed upon the latest
political phases of China.

At the time of the Peace Conference the situation had become so
strained, there were so many parties all genuinely anxious to assume
control--out of the best motives probably--that it seemed necessary
for one strong man to come in safely to direct the Revolutionary
cause.  That strong man was Dr. Sun Yat-sen.  It was known on the day
the Conference met that Sun Yat-sen was in Singapore.  For many days
the people had been looking for him, and disappointment was freely
expressed in Shanghai more particularly (where he was best known)
because of his non-appearance.  It seemed that he was now, at the
moment when he could do his country the most good, determined to stay
away.  After the Conference had broken up, however, Sun arrived, and
immediately the people took him to their hearts, recognising in him
the one man who now would be strong enough to establish a stable
Government.

{202}

Sun cannot be called a typical Chinese; he is a typical and extremely
able Chinese of the new school.  He has lived most of his life
abroad, and from his earliest years, when in Canton he attended the
London Mission with his Christian parents, has been constantly in
close touch with men and things foreign.  As has been said,
practically all his life, but particularly since 1895, Sun has been
looked upon as the most active Revolutionary among the Chinese.  His
escapes at the hand of the Chinese Government had been many.  For
years he had been banished, and his head was ever sought after.  His
deliverances had been marvellous.  Newspapermen the world over have
constantly interviewed Sun in his wanderings, and it is felt that so
much is known of President Sun that nothing of a general nature need
be added here.  It will be more interesting to pass on to see what
Dr. Sun has to say, in a remarkably well written story, of the reason
why his country is in revolt.[1]

"The conspiracy in which I took part as a leader at Canton in
October, 1895," wrote Dr. Sun Yat-sen, "was one of a series which
must ultimately triumph in the establishment of a Constitution in our
Empire.  The whole of the people in China, excepting the Imperial
agents, who profit in purse and power by the outrages they are able
to perpetrate, are with us.  The good, well-governed people of
America will not fail to understand that Chinese numbering many
millions in their own land and thousands in exile, could not
entertain such feelings about their Empire without good cause.  Over
each province there is what the English would call a Governor.  There
are no laws, as you know laws.  The Governor of each province makes
his own laws.  The will of each officer is the law.  The people have
no voice.  There is no appeal against the law created for his own
purposes by the officer or the Governor, no matter how unjust, no
matter how cruelly carried {203} out.  These Governors universally
persecute the people and grow wealthy by squeezing them all into
poverty.  Taxes, as taxation is understood by Americans, are unknown.
We pay only a land tax, but the Governors and officers take money
from the masses by innumerable systems of extortion.  Every time a
Governor or magistrate or chief officer takes charge of a district,
the first thing he does is to find out who are the rich, who are
favourably disposed toward him and who against him.  He selects first
one of those whom he has reason to believe dislikes him, forces one
of those on his side to make a criminal charge against the selected
man, and has him arrested on the charge, which is invariably false.
The Governor enriches himself by each case, as the only thing in the
nature of a law he knows is that of the Dynasty, empowering him to
take as his own as much as he likes, usually the whole of the
property of every man whom he arrests and punishes.  The arrested man
has no appeal.  He has no advocates.  He has no hearing.  Only his
accusers are heard.  Then he is barbarously tortured to confess the
guilt he knows not.

"The terrible injustice of this procedure is to be seen in that a
magistrate or chief officer never visits that punishment upon any one
who has Imperial influence.  Yet any man who has influence with the
magistrate or is in any way a creature of his, can arrest, by his own
will, any person against whom he has a grievance, choose any crime he
likes to name for the purpose, drag the person before the magistrate,
accuse him, and ask that he be punished.  Again, the accused person
has no appeal, no defence.  He is merely faced with the accusation,
and if he denies it, is put under torture for three days.  If at the
end of three days the accused refuses to confess himself guilty,
punishment is meted to him in severity according to the influence of
the accuser, and the necessity the magistrate feels of appeasing him.
The punishment {204} for every offence charged, from petty larceny
upward, is almost invariably beheading.  Beheading saves prison
expense, and effectually silences the accused.  So much aloof do the
Mandarins keep from the people that many are usually ignorant of this
terrible work of the officers of the Dynasty, and when told of it,
refuse to believe.  Some Mandarins refuse to believe, out of fear of
incurring the displeasure of officers.  The unhappy masses know the
truth too well.  The intelligent, the most enlightened, know of it.
Exiles in all other parts of the world know of it.  Bitter hatred of
the Dynasty and of the Imperial officers prevails in every province
of the Empire.  There is a great democracy in the Empire, waiting and
praying for the moment when their organisation can be made efficient
and the Dynasty removed and replaced by a constitutional government.

"Our conspiracy to seize Canton failed, yet we are filled with hope.
Our greatest hope is to make the Bible and education, as we have come
to know them by residence in America and Europe, the means of
conveying to our unhappy fellow-countrymen what blessings may lie in
the way of just laws, what relief from their sufferings may be found
through civilisation.  We intend to try every means in our power to
seize the country and create a government without bloodshed.  I think
we shall, but if I am doomed to disappointment in this, then there is
no engine in warfare we can invoke to our aid that we will hesitate
to use.  Our four hundred millions must, and shall, be released from
the cruel tyranny of barbaric misrule and be brought to enjoy the
blessings of control by a merciful, just government, by the arts of
civilisation.

"The conspiracy at Canton, though it failed, was but a momentary
repulse and has in no way damped our ardour.  A brief history of the
conspiracy and my own adventures connected with it may convey some
ideas of the difficulties which still lie before us, yet {205} which
we know we shall in due time surmount.  We have a head, a chief, and
a body of leaders, all earnest, intelligent, courageous men.  They
were elected according to constitutional principles by a body of us,
who met, necessarily, in secret.  We have a branch of our Society in
every province.  Our meetings of the leaders were held at various
houses, the rendezvous being constantly changed.  We had between
thirty and forty centres in the districts of the town, with members
ready to ride at a given moment to the number of at least one
thousand in each centre to take control of the public affairs of the
district.  Communications with each of these districts were made by
the employment of messengers.  Our communications were by word of
mouth.  Our intention was to attack no individual person.

"There is no Government, no organisation, no legal system, no form of
official control except the influential citizens, who, under the
favour of the magistrate or Governor of the province, usurp the use
of the Imperial commissioners and soldiers to carry out their
barbarous tyranny.  We had no ruling body, officials, or officers as
such institutions are understood by Europeans, to seize.  We had
elected bodies of our followers who had been taught a system of
constitutional rule, for each district, all ready to take office at a
given signal and put the system into practice.  The soldiers were
ready to join us.  For the soldiers are as great sufferers from
tyranny as the poor masses.

"Now, herein lay our chief difficulty.  To effect revolution in China
would be easy but for one thing--the great difficulty in controlling
the citizens.  The people, never having known laws, never having been
used to any proper discipline, are utterly demoralised.  Life and
property would be in danger from the masses the moment they became
excited.  From the soldiers, who are of the most degraded class, we
expected trouble.  They would certainly engage in looting the {206}
moment they had discovered a change in the order of things.

"The only problem we had to solve in order to completely succeed was
how to control the people, to make order a certainty, simultaneously
with the establishment of a form of government, and how to check the
excitement and outrages of the inhabitants while they were being
taught to realise the fact that the long-endured tyranny was
overcome.  For months we worked hard completing our plans to this
end, and things had reached that condition that each of the thirty
odd leaders had an armed bodyguard of one hundred men.  This gave us
three thousand armed men on the spot.  Another three thousand were to
join us from another province on a given date.  With this body of
men, armed, not to attack any officials, but to control the masses of
people and make them obey our constitutional laws, we should have in
a few hours reached the dynasty of impotence.

"Unhappily, we had to contend with the possibilities of disloyalty
among our own followers.  So great is the fear of the
torture-chamber.  Into so many tributaries does the main stream of
corruption flow.  However, all was prepared.  A date was fixed--one
day in October, 1895.  We leaders met to receive a telegram from our
agent in Hongkong, who was to inform us that all was right the moment
he knew the three thousand men had set out to our assistance.  At the
same time, he was to dispatch a chartered steamer up the Canton
River, laden with arms for the three thousand men who were to control
the people and keep order, and bringing seven hundred coolies to do
the fetching and carrying, the labourer's work needful to carry out
the scheme of establishing our Government.  We met at the rendezvous
at Canton, runners and every one at hand.  The message arrived to say
that all was right.  We dispatched our runners to let every one be
prepared at every centre, burned our papers, {207} and proceeded to
disband ourselves into units, each to carry out his own allotted
portion of revolution.  The moment before we disbanded a second
message arrived saying, 'Something has happened, the three thousand
men cannot come.'  Our runners were out, and could not be overtaken
and recalled.  We had to trust to the discretion of the centres to
await the men.  The only thing we could do, for the time being, to
divert suspicion, was to wire our Hongkong agent to keep back the
coolies.  He misunderstood.  The coolies arrived.  No one received
them.  They wandered about, not knowing what they were in Canton for.

"So the conspiracy was thwarted.  The runners had accused the people,
and set tongues wagging.  The Viceroy had been told, 'Something is
going to happen.'  He would not believe his informant, and all might
have become quiet, but the arrival of the coolies confirmed the
information.  The Government did not start.  The unhappy coolies were
hunted by the Imperial Commissioner and his staff, and many of them
beheaded.  We leaders dispersed; many fled into the interior.  The
Commissioner and Imperial Guard sought the leaders.  They seized and
beheaded sixteen persons, only seven of whom had anything to do with
the movement.  The remainder were occupants of houses where it was
supposed some of us had met.  The leaders all got away.  I went on
board my own steam-launch and sailed down to Hongkong, where I stayed
a week.  The Imperial officers were seeking me, and I passed them
several times in the street without their recognising me.  At the end
of the week, during which I had made arrangements for my family, my
wife and children and my mother, to follow me, I stepped on board a
steamer under the eyes of my stupid pursuers without their noticing
me.  When I arrived in London, I was captured for the first time,
after having been pursued around the world for one year.  But the
fault was not that of the English people.  Indeed, the noble-hearted
{208} way in which the English people came to my assistance, and
rescued me from the death for which I was assuredly destined, make us
shed tears of gratitude.

"In saving my life the English people have earned the love of every
one of our millions of cruelly ill-used people, and strengthened our
hope of one day soon enjoying the blessing of a just government, such
as that which has made your mighty nation so great and so good."

English friends on this occasion had warned him to steer a wide
course away from the Chinese Legation, for there he would technically
be on Chinese soil and could be arrested, but these friends either
neglected to tell Dr. Sun where the Legation was or he forgot the
directions they gave him.  At any rate, one day as he was walking
through a certain street two Chinese accosted him.  They asked him to
go with them to their lodging, where they could discuss the
Revolution at home.  When he demurred they seized him and pushed him
through the door of a nearby house.  It was the Chinese Legation.

A white man, who was Sir Halliday Macartney, English Secretary of the
Legation, told Sun that he was under arrest and that he would be
secretly taken out of London and back to Canton.  The prisoner was
locked in a room on the top floor of the Legation until arrangements
could be made for the official kidnapping.  Dr. Sun tried throwing
messages out of the window weighted with coins, but one of them was
picked up by one of the Legation servants and shown to the Minister,
and the windows were nailed up.

In his desperation Sun managed to bribe an English servant to carry a
message, telling of his plight, to a Dr. Cantlie, one of his friends.
Dr. Cantlie laid the matter before the Government, which took
immediate action.  The building was hedged about by detectives and
policemen so closely that the prisoner could not be smuggled out to a
steamer.  Finally, seeing the {209} futility of longer holding him,
the Chinese Minister turned Sun loose.

The nervy little doctor went right back to the Far East and began to
hatch another Revolution against his enemies.

This time it was from Japan that he operated.  But because he was not
thoroughly wise in the matter of some Japanese business policies he
was swindled out of all the funds he had raised to buy arms by one
Nakimura.

He left Japan and went to live in Singapore.  He slipped into China
again and started another uprising.  This, too, was ill-timed, and
many patriots lost their heads under the executioner's heavy blade.

Dr. Sun managed to slip across the lower border into Annam disguised
as a blind beggar.  No sooner was he across the border than he began
again, wandering from one Chinese colony to another in Annam, in
Tongkin, down in the Straits Settlements, over in the
Philippines--always preaching revolution.

In 1898 K'ang Yu-wei, one of the reformers whom Sun had been allied
with, travelled too fast in his efforts to win the ear of the puppet
Emperor, was betrayed by Yuan Shih K'ai, so it was said, and had to
flee to save his head.  Then the Empress-Dowager laid a heavy hand
upon all reformers within reach.  Once more Sun escaped.  After the
Boxer uprising, which was not at all of Sun's doing and was entirely
out of sympathy with his schemes, the Empress-Dowager seemed to be
bitten by the general sentiment for reform and she promised much for
China that raised the hopes of the new element.  But like most Manchu
promises, they were not to be depended on.



DRILLED IN THE UNITED STATES.

Back Sun went to America, and he added a new detail to his
propaganda.  He found a young graduate {210} of Leland Stanford
University, Homer Lee, who was military mad and incidentally an
enthusiast on the subject of freedom for China.  Lee was made General
of the Reform Cadets, who were Chinese youths of San Francisco,
fitted out with uniforms and guns and taught to do the hay foot,
straw foot in hired halls night after night.

The idea spread to other cities in the United States and to Manila.
The Reform Cadets became a wide-spread organisation.  American
drillmasters were hired to coach them; they had target practice and
they gave exhibition drills.

Out in San Francisco the agents of the Chinese Government once tried
to prevail upon the city and State authorities to break up the
organisation because it was technically an armed band of aliens on
American soil.  The effort failed.

Such was the man who may become yet the greatest man among the
Chinese in his own country as he has been out of it.  In due course
Dr. Sun Yat-sen was proclaimed President, with a provisional
Government at Nanking.

Sun Yat-sen, revolutionist in the most conservative land under
heaven, fugitive for fifteen years from the keenest and most
relentless trailers of men, hidden spirit of strange secret societies
whose ramifications have made mole tracks through every land where
Chinamen are--this man is now President of the Republic of China by
decree of the Provisional Military Assembly at Nanking.

Out of the underground passages of plot and intrigue the nature of
which no Occidental could hope to understand, and through which this
wiry little man has been wriggling and back tracking for more than a
dozen years, a new national figure suddenly jumps to command the
attention of the world.  During years past the world has occasionally
caught glimpses of the round black head and narrow, ascetic features
of this Dr. Sun, {211} now in Singapore, now in London, now in San
Francisco.

There had been little paragraphs in the world's news about an
agitator, a Radical, who seemed to be tilting with straws at the
impregnable citadel of the Manchu clan in Peking.  The Revolution
began in China and even then, when the name of Sun Yat-sen was
coupled with it people outside of China cracked jokes about a faker,
a charlatan, who was trying to capitalise the upheaval at home for
his own benefit.

Then over night things happened in China.  The next morning the world
learned at its breakfast-table that out of the welter and uproar of
revolution in old China a leader had arisen to gird an ancient land
under new harness of government.  And it also became manifest that
the Revolution, which had started by concerted movements in the heart
of China and spread with the rapidity of a powder-train, and the
little man who had been dodging and twisting through the world for so
many years were closely related--extraordinarily so.

Sun Yat-sen started many revolutions.  Each was stronger than the
last; each achieved a little more.  The final one, striven for and
plotted through channels not yet known, has succeeded.  Sun Yat-sen
was the man of the hour in China.

An odd circumstance that brings an added thrill of romance into the
story of his life is that though President of united China he still
bears upon his head a price totalling about 700,000 taels.  The
rewards for his head offered by provincial governments and the
central authorities in Peking during the last fifteen years have not
been recalled, even though payment upon delivery might be doubtful.

Yet the fact that his head was worth hundreds of "shoes" of silver
during all the latter years of his activity has been one of the
lightest burdens that Dr. Sun has carried about on his narrow
shoulders.  He {212} took long chances, apparently he suffered many
close calls from death, but he persisted.

I believe that when he was a young man he was studying medicine under
the care of an English physician in Hongkong.  Thence he went to
England and after study in a preparatory school he was graduated from
a medical college and returned to China.  He practised the new
medicine, against which there was a violent prejudice on the part of
the Chinese in Macao, in Canton and Hongkong.

Dr. Sun is forty-three now, he was scarcely more than twenty-five
when he began to move for the spreading of a revolutionary spirit in
the hearts of his countrymen.  Just where he began and with what
material nobody but the closest of his associates knows.

It seems that his first idea was for reform through peaceful means,
if it were possible for the Chinese people to penetrate the jealous
conservatism of the Manchu masters.  To this end the little doctor
began to organise clubs of advanced thinkers among the young Chinese
of the south.

For some time during the early part of 1912 things seemed to go
fairly smoothly, and President Sun seemed to have been successful in
winning the confidence of Yuan Shih K'ai, when, like a bombshell, the
press of the world (especially the London _Times_) deprecated one of
the messages Sun sent to Yuan.  This strengthened the Imperial cause.
Abdication of the Court, which had definitely been fixed, did not
take place.  Several of the Manchu princes refused to clear out, for
many days the complex situation at Peking, Shanghai, Nanking, and
Wuchang rendered it impossible for one to see what would eventuate.

The Court, however, did abdicate, and left the ground clear.  There
was a continuous rumpus in Peking during the following three months,
and in March of 1912 the capital was in a big uproar--the soldiers
broke loose, there was much pillaging and looting, {213} Yuan Shih
K'ai seemed entirely to have lost the situation and the whole country
seemed to be lost.  Yuan Shih K'ai meantime had been proclaimed
President, Dr. Sun gracefully withdrawing in his favour.  A big
discussion took place over the site for the capital, and just as Yuan
was about to come down to Nanking to settle matters the outbreak at
Peking quashed the whole affair.  But this was only one of the
political troubles.  Some adjusted themselves: others did not.  There
was a lack of money.  Soldiers, going unpaid, took the law into their
own hands, and looted on a great scale.  The banditti rose up in
formidable strength.  Officialdom was abused.  Decapitations were
rife.  Up to the end of March the interior of China was devoid of all
law and order.  In the coast places and big towns where order was
fairly easy to maintain, officials were busy making laws and drawing
up reforms.  But whilst reforms were being thus aimed at in some
places, in others there was absolute chaos.  The old order had been
taken away, and there was nothing better to put up in its place.

But it is hopeless to give a correct comprehensive estimate of what
was being done.  All we knew was that China was changing--in some
places for the worse, in others for the better, but changing
irrevocably, and it was only in the final balancing could one see how
things were to "pan out."

On March 10, 1912, Yuan Shih K'ai took the Oath, which read as
follows:--

"Since the Republic has been established, many works have now to be
performed.  I shall endeavour faithfully to develop the Republic, to
sweep away the disadvantages attached to absolute monarchy, to
observe the laws of the Constitution, to increase the welfare of the
country, to cement together a strong nation which shall embrace all
five races.  When the National Assembly elects a permanent President,
I shall retire.  This I swear before the Chinese Republic."

{214}

The following is a detailed statement, as translated from the
Chinese, of the conditions of the Provisional Republican
Constitution:--


THE PROVINCIAL REPUBLICAN CONSTITUTION.

_Chapter 1. General._

Article 1.--The Republic of China is established by the people of
China.

Article 2.--The sovereignty of the Republic of China is vested in the
whole body of the people.

Article 3.--The territory of the Republic of China consists of the
twenty-two provinces, Inner and Outer Mongolia, Tibet, and Kokonor.

Article 4.--The Republic of China will exercise its governing rights
through the National Assembly, Provisional President, Ministers of
State and Courts of Justice.



_Chapter II.  People._

Article 5.--The People of the Republic of China will be treated
equally without any distinction of race, class, or religion.

Article 6.--The People will enjoy the following liberties:--

1. No citizen can be arrested, detained, tried, or punished unless in
accordance with the law.

2. The residence of any person can only be entered or searched in
accordance with the law.

3. People have the liberty of owning property and of trade.

4. People have the liberty of discussion, authorship, publication,
meeting, and forming societies.

5. People have the liberty of secrecy of letters.

6. People have liberty of movement.

7. People have liberty of religion.

Article 7.--People have the right of petition to the Assembly.

Article 8.--People have the right of petition to the administrative
offices.

{215}

Article 9.--People have the right of trial at legal courts.

Article 10.--People have the right to appeal to the Court of
Administrative Litigation against any act of officials who have
illegally infringed their rights.

Article 11.--People have the right of being examined to become
officials.

Article 12.--People have the right of election and being elected to
representative assemblies.

Article 13.--People have the duty of paying taxes in accordance with
law.

Article 14.--People have the duty of serving in the army in
accordance with law.

Article 15.--The rights of the people enumerated in this chapter may,
in the public interest, or for the maintenance of order and peace or
upon other urgent necessity, be curtailed by due process of law.



_Chapter III.  National Assembly._

(Tsangyiyuan.)

Article 16.--The legislative functions of the Republic of China are
exercised by the National Assembly or Tsangyiyuan.

Article 17.--The National Assembly is formed of the members of
Tsangyiyuan elected by various districts as provided in Article 18.

Article 18.--Five members in each province, Inner Mongolia, Outer
Mongolia, and Tibet and one member from Kokonor will be elected.  The
measures for the election will be decided by each district.  At the
time of the meeting of the National Assembly each member has one vote.

Article 19.--The official rights of the National Assembly are as
under:--

1. To decide all laws.

2. To decide Budgets and settle accounts of the Provisional
Government.

{216}

3. To decide the measures of taxation, monetary system, and uniform
weights and measures.

4. To decide the amount of public loan and agreements involving any
obligation on the State treasury.

5. To ratify affairs mentioned in Articles 34, 35, and 40.

6. To reply to any affairs referred for decision by the Provisional
Government.

7. To accept petitions of the people.

8. To express views and present them to the Government regarding laws
and other matters.

9. To question Ministers of State and demand their presence at the
Assembly to give reply.

10. To demand the Provisional Government to inquire into cases of the
taking of bribes or other illegal acts of officials of the Government.

11. The National Assembly may impeach the Provisional President if
recognised as having acted as a traitor, by vote of three-fourths of
the members present at a quorum of four-fifths of the whole number of
members.

12. The National Assembly may impeach any of the Ministers of State
if recognised as having failed to carry out their official duties or
having acted illegally, on the decision of two-thirds of the members
present at a quorum of three-fourths of the whole number of members.

Article 20.--The National Assembly may hold its meetings of its own
motion and may decide the date of the opening and the closing of the
same.

Article 21.--The meetings of the National Assembly will be open to
the public, but in case of the demand of any Minister of State or in
case of the majority's decision a meeting may be held in camera.

Article 22.--The matters decided by the National Assembly shall be
promulgated and carried out by the Provisional President.

{217}

Article 23.--When the Provisional President uses his veto against the
decision of the National Assembly his reasons should be declared
within ten days and the matter should be placed before the National
Assembly for further discussion.  If two-thirds of the members
attending re-affirm the former decision that decision shall be
carried out as stipulated in Article 22.

Article 24.--The speaker of the National Assembly will be elected by
open ballot of the members, and if the ballot be one-half of the
total votes he is declared elected.

Article 25.--The members of the National Assembly have no
responsibility to outsiders for the speeches and decisions made in
the Assembly.

Article 26.--Except for flagrant offences or during internal
disturbance or foreign invasion the members of the Assembly cannot be
arrested during the session without the consent of the Assembly.

Article 27.--The standing orders of the National Assembly shall be
decided by the National Assembly itself.

Article 28.--The National Assembly shall be dissolved when the
National Convention comes into existence, which will succeed to all
the rights of the National Assembly.



_Chapter IV.--Provisional President and Vice-President._

Article 29.--Provisional President and Vice-President will be elected
by the National Assembly by vote of two-thirds of the members present
at a quorum of three-fourths of the whole number.

Article 30.--Provisional President represents Provisional Government
and controls political affairs and promulgates laws.

Article 31.--Provisional President executes laws and issues orders
authorised by law and has such orders promulgated.

{218}

Article 32.--Provisional President controls and commands the Navy and
Army of the whole country.

Article 33.--Provisional President decides official organisations and
discipline but such should be approved by the National Assembly.

Article 34.--Provisional President is empowered to make appointments
and dismissals of civil and military officials.  However, the
Ministers of State, ambassadors and ministers accredited to foreign
Powers, should be approved by the National Assembly.

Article 35.--Provisional President declares war, negotiates peace and
concludes treaties with the approval of the National Assembly.

Article 36.--Provisional President declares martial law in accordance
with law.

Article 37.--Provisional President represents the whole country to
receive ambassadors and ministers of foreign countries.

Article 38.--Provisional President presents bills for laws to the
National Assembly.

Article 39.--Provisional President confers decorations and other
honorary bestowals.

Article 40.--Provisional President declares general amnesty, special
amnesty, commutation, and rehabilitation; general amnesty needs the
approval of the National Assembly.

Article 41.--In case Provisional President be impeached by the
National Assembly the judges of the highest court of justice will
elect nine judges to organise a special tribunal to try and decide
the case.

Article 42.--Provisional Vice-President will act for Provisional
President in case Provisional President dies or is unable to attend
to his duties.



_Chapter V.  Ministers of State._

Article 43.--Prime Minister and Ministers of Departments are called
Ministers of State.

{219}

Article 44.--Ministers of State assist Provisional President and
share responsibility.

Article 45.--Ministers of State countersign bills proposed, laws
proposed, laws promulgated, and orders issued by Provisional
President.

Article 46.--Ministers of State and their deputies attend and speak
in the National Assembly.

Article 47.--When any Minister of State is impeached by the National
Assembly, the Provisional President should dismiss him, but the case
may be retried by the National Assembly at the request of the
Provisional President.



_Chapter VI.  Courts of Justice._

Article 48.--Courts of Justice consist of judges to be appointed by
Provisional President and Minister of Justice.  The organisation of
Courts of Justice and qualification of judges will be decided by law.

Article 49.--The Courts of Justice will try and decide cases of civil
litigation and criminal litigation in accordance with law.  However,
administrative litigation and other special litigation will be
stipulated by special laws.

Article 50.--The trials and judgments of the Courts of Justice will
be open to the public, but cases which are considered to be against
peace and order may be held _in camera_.

Article 51.--Judges will never be interfered with by any higher
officials in their offices either during a trial or in delivering
judgment, as judges are independent.

Article 52.--Whilst a Judge holds office his salary cannot be
reduced, and his functions cannot be delegated to another.  Unless in
accordance with law, he cannot be punished or dismissed or retired.
The regulations for the removal of Judges will be stipulated by
special law.



{220}

_Chapter VII.  Annex._

Article 53.--Within ten months of the date of this law being in
force, the Provisional President should convene a National
Convention.  The organisation and the measures for election of such
National Convention will be decided by the National Assembly.

Article 54.--The Constitution of the Republic of China will be
decided by the said National Convention, and before the said
Constitution comes into force this law will have the same force as
the Constitution.

Article 55.--This law will be either added to or revised by
three-fourths of the members of the National Assembly present at a
quorum of two-thirds of the whole number, or by three-fourths of the
members present at a quorum of four-fifths of the whole number, when
the same is proposed by the Provisional President.

Article 56.--This law shall come into force when it is promulgated,
and the rules of provisional government now in force will be
cancelled when this law comes into force.


Recognition of the Powers came slowly.  The Republican fanatics cried
out in great volume and the alleged subsidised press still pursued
the for and against of the national argument.  However, in due
course, with Yuan as President, the Government went ahead in
endeavours to get money.  The reader will probably know the actual
eventualities as they touched the West internationally.  There were
still two parties, however, one with Sun at the head, the other with
Yuan.  Yuan Shih K'ai was a man cast in a distinctly different mould
from Sun.  Before we go on to read his general biographical sketch,
as embodied in the next chapter, it is interesting to note how people
were interesting themselves in him.  The following, from a private
letter {221} published in New York, is culled from an American
daily:--

"In 1884, when I went to China, Yuan was just succeeding the Manchu
General in charge of the Chinese troops sent to Seoul after the
troubles of 1882.  He drove the Japanese out of Korea following the
emeute of 1884, and on October 3, 1885, after visiting his patron, Li
Hung-chang, he returned to Seoul as full Chinese representative,
taking to himself the title of 'Resident' in the sense in which that
title is used by the British in India, implying Chinese suzerainty.

"Yuan was without much education even for a Chinaman.  He knew no
English at all.  Korea is as far as he ever ventured abroad, but the
ten years there were a very valuable school for him.

"He was in my time just a big, brutal, sensual, rollicking Chinaman.
Having vast powers, he frequently cut off the heads of Chinese
gamblers and others, and I was an unwilling witness of some of these
street side pastimes of his.  He would imprison Korean gentlemen who
objected to parting with their ancestral estates in order that they
might be used to enlarge Yuan's palatial legation.  He would not let
a physician save the life of one of his soldiers in the emeute by
amputating his arm, saying, "Of what good would a one-armed soldier
be?"  Yet he kept as a pensioner another soldier whose life was saved
but who was useless as a trooper.  He was extremely quick, quite
fearless, very rash, yet given to consultation with Tang and others,
and therefore inclined to be reasonable.  He was altogether
unscrupulous, but absolutely faithful and devoted to his patron and
largely so to his friends.  He would sacrifice an enemy or one who
stood in his way, but would at the same time sacrifice himself
readily for his patron.

"Nobody understands the meaning of the term 'arrogance' who didn't
know Yuan in those years 1884-94.  He was arrogance personified.  He
would not {222} meet or associate with the Ministers of other Powers
unless he was allowed to occupy a sort of throne and 'receive' them
as though they were vassal envoys.  At a Korean State dinner he
always occupied the foot (one end) of the table, which then became
the head."


[1] The _China Press_, Shanghai, December 8, 1911.




{223}

CHAPTER XV

YUAN SHIH K'AI'S RETIREMENT

Perhaps the one personage in China most impressed by the utter
inability of four hundred million Chinese to stand up against the
forty million Japanese was the Chinese Resident in Seoul.  Formerly
in charge of the Chinese troops in Korea, he had been promoted to be
China's representative at the Court of what was so soon to pass away.
That impact of the new and the old, that utter collapse of the feeble
resistance offered by the proud Imperial troops to the disciplined
modern army of Japan, convinced the Resident that China was tottering
to her fall unless she, like Japan, could absorb the knowledge and
civilisation of the West.  This lesson was--to use a Chinese
phrase--"engraved upon his heart."  That Resident was Yuan Shih K'ai.

[Illustration: YUAN SHI-K'AI.  Prime Minister of the Manchu
Government and subsequently First President of the Provisional
Military Government of the United Republic of China.]

From that time onwards he set his hand to the plough of reform.  And
so straight a furrow did he plough, with never a swerve from his
purpose, that he was everywhere spoken of as Yuan the Reformer.
Discredited by the Japanese, neglected by the Chinese Government,
vegetating for a time in that out-of-the-way port of Wenchow, it was
not until 1898 that Yuan began to come to his own.  As the result of
a personal interview with the Emperor Kwang Hsu, he received his
first military command under the Reform movement, being made
expectant Vice-President of a Board with control of an army corps.
In his new, environment Yuan had the opportunity of his life; he
{224} proved his real greatness by rising to the occasion.  Beginning
with the control of a few modern-trained soldiers, he so entered into
the development of the idea in his brain that China's Model Army was
the result, and their proved superiority over the Wuchang Modern Army
at the engagements near Hankow was the proof that henceforth the
properly trained, armed, and disciplined Chinese soldier is a force
to be reckoned with.  At this stage of his career Yuan united honesty
of purpose with singleness of aim.  He took the attitude of the old
"sea dogs" of the British Navy--he was straight and true with his
men, and worked with them.  Honest himself, he saw to it that his
officers were men of integrity.  Foreigners applauded him, and when
in 1900 he became Governor of Shantung, all the civilised world
recognised that the man who would succeed Li Hung-chang had arrived.
At this juncture Yuan Shih K'ai reached the parting of the ways, and
showed to the world that even a great-minded and strong, purposeful
Chinese statesman, with an intense desire for Reform in the country,
is a Chinese still.  Yuan had aided and abetted the young Emperor in
his pursuit of Reform, but the time came when the military reformer
had to choose whom he would serve--the Reform party and the Emperor
Kwang-Hsu or the Conservative party and their leader the
Empress-Dowager.

To carry out the Reform purpose it was necessary that the Emperor
should have control of the new Northern Army, then under the command
of Jung Lu, Governor-General of Chihli, and in order to obtain this
control Jung Lu had to be put out of the way.  At a secret interview
with the Emperor on the 5th of the 8th moon, 1898, Yuan, after
hearing all details of the Emperor's plan, which included the
beheading of Jung Lu and the capture of the Empress-Dowager by means
of the army, promised implicit obedience.  (He had already assured
the Emperor of his loyalty if placed {225} in command of the troops.
"Your servant," he said, "will endeavour to recompense the Imperial
favour even though his merit be as a drop of water in the ocean or a
grain of sand in the desert; he will faithfully perform the service
of a dog or a horse while there remains breath in his body.")[1]

And with his vows hot upon his lips--went straight away and betrayed
his sovereign.  He was a Chinese, and seemed to choose the side that
would best serve his own ends.  The result is a matter of history.
But it must ever be remembered that Yuan Shih K'ai struck the fatal
blow which paralysed the Reform movement and prepared for the great
humiliation of China in 1900.

Amongst the Chinese Yuan has come to be regarded as a man of doubtful
advantage to his side.  They remember that his arbitrary conduct of
affairs when Resident of Korea had much to do with the bringing in of
that disastrous conflict with Japan, they speak of his action in
betraying the cause of Reform, and point to the fact that all his
great schemes have, sooner or later, brought disaster with them and
plunged his country into disgrace.  Yuan might or might not have been
guilty of these things.  It is difficult for an onlooker to
understand the game of Court intrigue as played by the Chinese
diplomats.  He sees not the things that count, or if he sees them
reckons them as but sidelights, and sees them out of their true
proportions.  Nevertheless when calamity overtook the Empire Yuan's
was the strong hand that held it, that kept the country from going
altogether.  From the time of the return to power of the
Empress-Dowager and her corrupt eunuch-controlled Court, Yuan's star
was in the ascendant.  Specially named in the Imperial Edict which
announced to all China the settlement of the Boxer troubles, promoted
to the Viceregal blue-ribbon--that of Viceroy of Chihli and Guardian
of the {226} Imperial Capital--granted the Order of the Yellow Jacket
and sundry other distinctions--Yuan Shih K'ai became the first man of
the Empire.

For the part he had played in stemming the Boxer tide and in saving
the lives of many foreigners, Yuan commanded the respect and
admiration of the Legations in Peking, and through them, of the
civilised world.

Then came the fall.  A writer in the _National Review_ puts the
matter briefly but succinctly: "In 1908 H.E. Yuan celebrated his
fiftieth birthday.  He held a reception and was the recipient of many
gifts, including some from the Empress-Dowager and the Emperor.  The
great officials of Peking vied with each other in the costliness and
rare choice of the presents they made, but there was a notable
abstention from these courtesies.  Prince Chun had asked for a few
days' leave of absence, and being therefore officially non-existent,
he was saved the necessity of making a present.  The incidents which
led to the dismissal of H.E. Yuan deserve close note.  Very shortly
after the birthday celebration a special meeting of the Grand Council
was held at which the question to be discussed was the appointment of
a successor to H.I.M. Kwang Hsu.  The Empress-Dowager presided, and,
after announcing that the time had come to nominate an heir to the
Throne, she stated that she had already made a choice in her own
mind, but desired the advice of her councillors.  Prince Ching and
Yuan Shih K'ai then suggested the name of Prince Pu Lun, or, failing
him, Prince Kung.  The Empress-Dowager, however, announced that she
had long ago in her own mind intended to make the eldest son of
Prince Chun, whom she had married to the daughter of Jung Lu, the
heir to the Throne, in recognition of Jung Lu's lifelong devotion to
her person.  She heard the Council's views on this proposal, and as
there was general agreement, she made this her final choice.  Though
this agreement was general, it was not unanimous; H.E. Yuan held to
his {227} view of the superior claims of Prince Pu Lun, and, if
precedent is anything to go by, he was right in these views.
However, his views were overruled, with the result that H.I.M. Hsuan
Tung now rules China.

"Shortly afterwards came the death of H.I.M. Kwang Hsu, whose
valedictory Edict stated that for the misery of the past ten years
Yuan Shih K'ai is responsible, and one other....  'When the time
comes I desire that Yuan be summarily beheaded.'  This pious wish was
not fulfilled, but scarcely had the present Regent assumed power than
he propitiated the shade of his brother by a summary dismissal of his
ablest statesman."

Yuan retired to his birthplace, in Honan, and all efforts of foreign
would-be friends to have him recalled were in vain.  Yuan's time of
evening twilight seemed to have come.


[1] "China under the Empress-Dowager," p. 203.




{228}

CHAPTER XVI

RECALLED TO SAVE THE MONARCHY


    "Yuan Shih K'ai is appointed Viceroy of the Hu Kuang provinces
    and to direct the suppressive and pacification operations there.
    Tsen Chun-hsuan is appointed Viceroy of Szechuen and to direct
    suppressive and pacification measures, in that province.  They
    are both commanded to hasten to their posts and need not repair
    to Peking for audiences."


This bald statement in an Imperial Edict issued on October 14,
1911--three days after the Revolution had broken out in Wuchang--told
to the world that the Court in Peking was _in extremis_, yet ever
acute.  There was one man who could deal with the situation, one man
to whom the Northern Army would be leal in a conflict with the Army
of the South; that one man was the neglected Yuan Shih K'ai.  At
first Yuan refused the proffered honour, but afterwards General Yin
Chang, who commanded the troops, interviewed him, and on the 18th
Yuan formally accepted the appointment and proceeded south.  It was a
time fraught with great issues: Yuan the Reformer in close contact
with Li the Revolutionary.  In the battle of brains (as well as of
bullets) who would prove to be the stronger man?  This section of
Yuan's life has already been referred to in an earlier chapter of the
volume.

On November 10th Yuan Shih K'ai was recalled to Peking, and five days
later accepted the position of Prime Minister, which carried with it
the difficult task of trying to pacify the nation and institute a
Reform Government which would be satisfactory to a majority {229} of
both factions.  Writing under that date, a writer in Peking said:--

"According to information received from an exceptionally high
authority, Yuan has adopted a definite plan of procedure.

"First he will endeavour to ascertain the sentiment of the country in
regard to the crucial question whether the Manchu Dynasty will
continue to reign or will be deposed in favour of another form of
government.  To this end he will immediately summon a large number of
prominent and representative men from all parts of the country, in
addition to those to be selected in accordance with the edicts issued
yesterday, to form a national conference.  This conference of
provincials will determine whether the people really desire a
Republic or a Constitutional Monarchy.

"Personally, Yuan Shih K'ai is well satisfied to have a
Constitutional Monarchy, with strict limitations on the powers and
requisites of the Throne, and will use his influence to this end.
However, he will abide by the decision of the people, reached in
accordance with this orderly plan.

"Yuan has been working strenuously ever since his arrival, shaping
his forces and organising his supporters.  There is no doubt that he
feels absolutely secure of the support of the entire Northern Army
and its commanders.  He is also negotiating with General Li Yuan
Hung, with whom two special emissaries are now consulting.

"Last night Yuan reached a thorough understanding with the National
Assembly.  This probably was one reason for his acceptance, because
he did not wish to risk antagonism in that quarter.  Now he has the
full and absolute support of the Assembly without danger of
interference, if promises are kept.  Whatever the final result of his
efforts may be, it seems certain that an extended period of parleying
is at hand.  It can be positively stated that the Government has
decided to {230} abandon all aggressive measures from Peking during
the course of the negotiations.  However, the Imperial troops
naturally will fight if the Revolutionists attack them."

From this time onwards the policy of Yuan Shih K'ai was an enigma
even to those who watched it the most closely.  His most ardent
admirers were puzzled.  During the brief months that had elapsed
since he re-entered the arena his Excellency had gained many titles.
As he seemed to shape his policy, so he was called Yuan the Dictator,
Yuan the Cunctator, Yuan the King-maker--the Chinese Earl of Warwick.
It is conceivable that all along he was true to his ideal, played the
one game, sought only the best interests of the people and country as
a whole.  At any rate, it was admitted the world over that the one
man of strong character and general qualities of leadership in Peking
was Yuan Shih K'ai.

Yuan's first move in Peking was an astute one, but it failed.  His
Cabinet that was to reconcile all parties practically resigned before
it was ever constituted.  Even the National Assembly found itself
powerless to do other than pass resolutions.  The Premier's first
great triumph over the Manchus was in bringing about the resignation
of the Prince Regent, who had so summarily dismissed Yuan a few years
before.  The story of the "resignation" is well told in the China
Press of December 8th:--

"The unheralded edict from the Empress-Dowager, accepting the
'resignation' of the Prince Regent, constitutes one of the most
dramatic of all happenings in this great political upheaval, and
shows the tremendous extent to which the Reform element has gone in
its programme for the relegation of the Manchus.  Aside from its
actual, concrete importance there is in the event an added degree of
interest on account of the relations between Yuan Shih K'ai, who
brought the Regent's retirement about, and the Prince Regent.  If
{231} there is anything of the spirit of revenge in the make-up of
the Premier he must be gloating now, for he has completely vanquished
the man who, three short years ago, was responsible for his dismissal
from office and his retirement to humiliation.

"No one knows--at least, no one will tell--just how this great event
was brought about.  It seems, however, that Yuan Shih K'ai had been
working for it for several weeks.  He was strongly supported by
Prince Ching, and these two told both the Regent himself and the
Empress-Dowager that the Regent's retirement was necessary to a
settlement of the present disturbed state of the Empire.  The Prince
Regent was reluctant but finally yielded to the demand, and
henceforth he will be entirely out of public life.  Yuan Shih K'ai
and his followers and helpers hoped that the step would be of vast
benefit to the Government, and would make a settlement with the
rebels possible.  They say they think this will be the case.  Others,
however, especially some foreigners, feel that this step, like so
many others, has perhaps come too late, and that rebellious elements
to the southward will consider it as an indication of weakness on the
part of the Government, and that they will thus become encouraged to
continue the fight.  The Chinese say that this will not be the case.
Chinese psychology, it appears, enters into the matter to a
considerable extent, and the apparently reasonable view of the
foreigner as to the logical result of the step and its effect upon
rebel minds is not, according to the Chinese argument, justified.

"The edict retiring the Prince Regent makes Yuan Shih K'ai more
powerful than ever, and if the situation is to be saved, he must be
the man to do it.  It is not as clear as it might be, and there is
much speculation here amongst foreigners as to where it leaves the
Empress-Dowager.  A consensus of opinion appears to be that the
Empress-Dowager remains only a figurehead.  The edict at one point
says that {232} hereafter 'the whole responsibility' of appointing
officials and carrying on the Government will rest upon the Prime
Minister and the Ministers of State.  Thus Yuan Shih K'ai is made
supreme, for he is Prime Minister and Cabinet in one, as the Cabinet
is composed of men of his own selection.  The Empress-Dowager will
have nothing to do with the executive or legislative branches of the
new form of Government.  She is apparently limited by these words,
which follow those quoted above: 'When edicts are to be issued the
Prime Minister will ask for the Imperial Seal to be used, and
ceremonial audiences will be held by Us and the Emperor together.'
This, it would seem, leaves the Empress-Dowager and the Emperor as
the symbol of the sovereignty of China, but with none of the
functions of law-making or administration.  It will be the
Empress-Dowager who sits on the throne to receive credentials from
the foreign ministers when they come to the capital, and she will
typify the head of the State to the world at large; but more than
this she will not be."

Yuan Shih K'ai's next problem was to so arrange matters that the
Manchu Court should see fit to "abdicate," and at the same time
temporise with the Republican party by means of the famous but
fatuous Peace Conference.  Here the master-hand revealed itself.  For
a time Yuan seemed trusted yet doubted alike by both sides.  He
succeeded in bringing actual hostilities to an end--and this may have
been his objective.

Under date of January 21, 1912, a Peking correspondent wrote:--

"From time to time since the beginning of the present upheaval in
China the situation has seemed extremely complicated and beyond all
understanding, and to-day it appears more so than ever.  Not only is
the controversy between the Revolutionists and the Government here
still under way and very {233} bitter, but there is trouble and
turmoil within the Manchu camp, due to a decided difference of
opinion amongst the Princes over the important question of
abdication.  It is known that last Friday, January 19th, had been set
as the day for the issuance of the abdication edict.  The Throne was
fully prepared to clear out; Yuan Shih K'ai had obtained the full
approval of the Empress-Dowager and of leading Princes to this move,
and the immediate retirement of the Court to Jehol seemed certain.
Complications, however, set in, and to-day it is not at all certain
that abdication will come at once.  There is fight-talk in the air,
and no one knows what will happen.  Yuan Shih K'ai remains secluded
in his office, on leave of absence, surrounded by more soldiers than
ever before, and evidently in fear of further attempts at
assassination.  There are Manchus of royal blood, and others of red
blood, who declare against abdication and desire to fight it out.
Many of these call Yuan Shih K'ai a traitor, and, if circumstantial
rumours are to be believed, even in part, Yuan Shih K'ai is in as
much danger from a certain Manchu element as from revolutionary bombs.

"It is a tremendous situation to-day, hard to understand and
impossible actually to know, for those who do know what has
transpired will not tell, while those who pretend to know spread
varying and sensational reports.  There is something behind it all,
something that, as far as I can ascertain, no foreigner knows.  Yuan
Shih K'ai is playing a deep game, in the opinion of all, and some say
that he intends that the finale of his incomprehensible regime as
Premier shall be the elevation to the presidency of Yuan Shih K'ai.
The Premier, beyond all doubt, has lost much ground recently with the
foreigners who have thought so highly of him, and he is freely
accused of playing a game.  Perhaps this is unjust to him, but, if
so, he has himself to blame, for beyond doubt he has not made the
most of his opportunities."

{234}

Yuan's striking personality, his military genius, his character, the
magnetic attraction he has for the foreigners around him, must have
had much to do in shaping the end of recent events.  But how much so,
and the whole truth concerning the part he has played in this
Revolution yet remains to be told in a volume that will reveal the
inwardness of the motives and ambitions and achievements of H.E. Yuan
Shih K'ai, perhaps the greatest man in the Chinese Empire of to-day.
How to read the riddle of his recent diplomatic moves is beyond the
powers of the Occidental.  When Admiral Sah fired his few effectual
rounds at Kilometre Ten, and retired down-river instead of
annihilating the routed Republicans, was he acting under Yuan Shih
K'ai's express orders?  When later on Hankow was taken and Admiral
Sah decided to bombard Wuchang and thus bring the campaign to a
close, who prevented him carrying out his effectual proposals?  Was
it Yuan?  And then, on November 27th, when Hanyang fell and Wuchang
seemed at the mercy of the Imperialists, who was it that stayed the
forward move and gave General Li Yuan Hung an opportunity to
reconstruct his plan of campaign?  Was Yuan even then drawing his net
more closely round his Manchu enemies.  And did he, too, cause the
evacuation of the Wuhan centre, leaving it to the Revolutionists to
reoccupy the hardly-won positions without the firing of a shot or the
loss of a single life?  The future still holds the solution of these
riddles.  There are those, however, who see in all these moves the
hand of a statesman, eager and able to hold together his country and
at the same time revenge himself on his enemies in the corrupt Manchu
Court.




{235}

CHAPTER XVII

THE SZECHUEN REVOLT

It was long before the outbreak of the Revolution that Szechuen was
in the throes of a revolt that threatened early to spread to most
dangerous limits from every aspect.  The cause of the trouble was the
building of railroads.  Szechuen demanded exclusion from the scheme
for the nationalisation of the railways.  The literati and the
students took the matter in hand, declared determinedly that the
province should build its own railways, and in a very short time the
province was in an uproar.  We have but little space to deal with the
history of the disturbances, but seeing that when it was at its worst
there existed a serious anti-foreign spirit, it will be well to give
a brief review on the affair.

For several years one had become accustomed to the startling
pronouncements from Peking as to what the Government of China
intended to do with regard to the establishment of railroads
throughout the length and breadth of the land, and what the
consequent opening up of the country would be.  During the past few
years of China's alleged awakening we had, however, waited in vain
for the much-debated new lines.  In each Provincial Assembly one of
the foremost among the matters of agenda had always been the railway
which came no nearer, and the public had grown accustomed to the talk
and instinctively had arrived at the position {236} where they do not
expect any concrete result in the shape of railroad actualities.

The announcement made during the spring of 1911 would seem to have
indicated, however, that that time was past with the coming into
public office of his Excellency Tuan Fang as Director-General of
Railways.  Whilst he held public office Tuan Fang was a man who,
next, perhaps, to Yuan Shih K'ai, was looked upon as the prince of
officials, was famous for the tact and ability with which he
approached all matters having anything to do with the foreigner, was
highly respected by the people, was astute, far-seeing, progressive
in the truest sense, and generally respected as a public pillar in
the coming of the New China.  But one day, when the funeral of the
late Empress was taking place, he was unfortunate enough, as will be
seen in a footnote printed below, to commit one of the greatest
breaches against Imperial etiquette.  The wrath of the Throne was
brought down upon him.  Tuan Fang was dismissed peremptorily, put his
papers in his pocket, and cleared out of the service in apparent
disgrace.  That, however, was in the old days.  China, since then,
had been quickly undergoing a process of mighty change, and Tuan had
changed with the times.  He was now taken into office by the
Government, and among other things that came directly under his
control was the management of the railways proposed to become and
those already under construction.  So that it was now reasonably
expected that some progress would be made--not so speedy as the
programme would indicate, perhaps--but certain was it that no man at
the time in the whole of the Government arena was more capable of
handling that particularly needed adjunct of national progress as the
modern railroad admittedly is in China.  In China the railway
question is one of the most vital importance.  By virtue of size
alone China, it was seen, must seek the aid of every railway-building
nation in the world if she was to complete {237} her proposed
schemes.  The problems of railways here in China only touch the
difficulties of construction and initial expense.  The stage where
the relation of the railways to society and commerce becomes more and
more complicated has not yet arrived.  China is innocently free for
the most part from such vexatious questions as the competition of
rates and fares, the combination of railway systems, the pooling of
traffic, and State or private ownership.  The conditions prevailing
in China are rather the result of historical evolution, and cannot
possibly be regarded as the outcome of any policy.  If a railway has
rails, then in China it can very well be called a railway--and China
has shown us that she has been satisfied, and the Chinese Government
has always been the victim of circumstances, guided wholly by the
golden age in the past rather than an intelligent outlook for the
golden age of the future.  The railways that China possesses had
always been, and still are, the most flagrant examples of how
railways should not be run.  They had been a disgrace to a nation
that has put forward a claim to be making endeavours to get out of
the grip of antediluvianism.  They have lost money, have been allowed
to get into the sorriest state of disrepair that can be imagined, and
altogether have been white elephants.  But the spirit of railway
construction during the last few years took hold of the Government.
In the enlightened provinces of north and east China the people
talked railways, they thought railways, they dreamed railways, and
with the advent of Tuan Fang as the Director-General of Railways they
seemed set upon building railways.  The need of opening up this
wonderful Empire is an oft-repeated tale, not needing to be
reiterated.  In every province in the west of the Empire there is
known to be a wealth in the earth that will in time allow China to
vie with the United States in natural resources.  For her own
intercommunication and exchange of products China's first need is the
railway.  If her exports are {238} to increase in a proportionate
measure with her opportunity of natural development, China must have
a network of railroads to enable her speedily to transport her
products to the coast.  The need is there, and aided by the Great
Four Nation Loan, China (so it seemed at the commencement of 1911)
would be able to move with enormous strides.  She now had the money,
and she had now chosen the man.  It was only to be hoped that his
Excellency Tuan Fang, in entering upon his important mission to the
New China, would not find his hands tied by that unmoving element of
the Old China which still rigidly maintained an attitude of
short-sighted independence.

Early in the scheme which made for the nationalisation of the
railroads it was seen that Szechuen would not pull with the other
provinces--Hunan was another.  It was one of the unaccountable
phenomena of the times in several of the central provinces of China
that the gentry and the _literati_ were impressed in a manner the
reverse of satisfactory over the loaning of money by the Powers to
China.  Several places had been on the verge of a revolt as a result
of the Government's decision, and in some places there was a marked
dislike to the Imperial methods of opening up the country.  The first
thing that impresses the observer of social conditions in China
to-day is the magnitude of the industrial forces that are everywhere
at work--the man who does not work finds little to eat.  In
seven-eighths of this enormous Empire the bulk of the country's work
is performed by the energies of human beings and beasts of burden.
China--that is, the common people of the country--has not learned the
lesson of harnessing to the chariot of industrial progress one of the
great natural forces, and they are taught from the cradle to believe
that when once a labour-saving machine is introduced, that exact
number of people whose combined work is accomplished by the machine
will commence to starve.  The ordinary Chinese looks out of {239} his
almond-shaped eyes, but does not see wherein lies the wealth of the
land.  That the United States of America increased its mechanical
horse-power from two million in 1870 to roughly twelve million in
1900, and has enjoyed greater wealth with its increase--and that his
own country could do the same, mattered not to the ordinary Chinese.
He argues in a very elementary manner.  He has so many mouths to
feed; there is so much work to be done; when all the work that there
is to be done is done by hand labour, even then there are thousands
of mouths that cannot be filled, and if labour-saving machinery is
introduced, what will become of the millions who will be thrown out
of employment?  So argues the ordinary Chinese, and for fear of
making matters worse than they are, he votes plump against the
introduction of foreign machinery.  This was the spirit of the
proletariat towards the opening of the country by railway lines.  But
the change was bound to come, and although the people of Szechuen
showed plainly that they intended tooth and nail to fight against
this that they little understood, the Government seemed to show most
strongly that it intended to push the building of the lines.  The
question was, of course, of thrilling interest to China as a nation,
and of vital importance to the whole of the East and the West.  In
former times the people themselves had had the opportunity to build
their own railways, the same as private companies did in Europe and
America.  They stolidly refused, they believed such an innovation of
the devil to be directly against the welfare of the country.  For
ages the Chinese Government thought the same, but when the
partly-awakened China reached out to grasp its last chance of
swinging commercially into line with other great nations of the
world, there was to be no hesitancy.  China must have railways.  She
could not build them herself--she had no money.  Europe and America
could build them; Europe and America had the money, and {240} were
doing what any other right-thinking nation would characterise as a
gracious act (although not quite free from the loaves and fishes
element), and it was the duty of the Chinese Government to rule with
an iron hand against any hysterical hooligans whose Imperial
short-sightedness rendered them a dangerous element in the country.

There was for several months during the initial trouble no
anti-foreign movement.  A Society boasting the name of the One Aim
Society--the one aim being to get the railway loan rescinded--was
formed, many scholars of repute being the leaders, who prided
themselves upon conducting their campaign in quite a civilised
fashion, and not in the old way of destroying public buildings and so
forth.  Where agitation existed against the missionaries and
foreigners the leaders stepped in, agitated for and subsequently
succeeded in getting many of the commoner ringleaders beheaded.  For
many hundreds of square miles the countryside was pamphleted to the
effect that "not a blade of grass belonging to a foreigner must be
touched," the writer going on to declare that "if we do this, we
shall only injure our own cause and give the foreign nations a
pretext to step in and divide up our country....  This has nothing to
do with the missionaries of any nation.  If foreign nations have
money to lend, and China wishes to borrow, they have a perfect right
to lend upon the very best terms that they can get.  We, therefore,
cannot blame the foreigners, but only our own Government."

Whilst, however, this was the authoritative attitude of the promoters
of the agitation, there were many of the "roughs" of the
country--that party which has been eternally agitating against both
Government and foreigners--who hoped to take advantage of the trouble
to promote its own aims.  Towards this end some curious proceedings
were reported to have transpired.  The press became irrepressible,
the cartoons against {241} foreigners were vile--such things as
Chinese soldiers being tied to branches of trees and shot by foreign
soldiers, with letterpress telling the people that this was the
treatment meted out by the British to the Chinese soldiers at Pienma;
Russian soldiers driving Jews into the sea at the point of the
bayonet; the picture of an Englishman separating husband and wife
with a flaring explanation that this was how the British treated the
people of India, and so on _ad libitum_.  This spirit came gradually.
At the start of the rebellion the people probably thought that to
shield the foreigner would save their reputation in their barbarous
conduct throughout the province, but when they came to see plainly
enough that the Imperial hand was stronger than they had deemed it to
be, they turned their attention to what might have proved a very
dangerous spirit of anti-foreignism--but the foreigners cleared out
of the province luckily before any massacring was generally spoken
of.  At the time I am writing it is not known whether the property of
foreigners was allowed to remain untouched or not.

After the outbreak at Wuchang things in Szechuen took a decided turn
for the worst.  Outlawry became rife everywhere.  Slaughter on a
gigantic scale was carried on; Chengtu, the capital, was besieged for
several weeks; foreigners were ordered out of the province and only
with great difficulty in many cases were able to get away; Chao Erh
Fang (the Viceroy) was killed; from end to end of the province
nothing but anarchy and lawlessness prevailed.  When the trouble was
at its height Tuan Fang was ordered to Szechuen to quell the
rebellion.  He went, but, good man that he was, never came back.
When the killing of the Manchus was in progress, he was killed by his
own men, and his head brought down to Wuchang.

At the time of writing the province of Szechuen is in such a
condition of unrest and complete disorganisation that it is quite
impossible to tell what will occur within {242} a year--that is,
whether there is likely then to be any prospect of real peace.  It is
certain that for many months yet the missionaries will not be able to
return to their stations, and it will probably take many years, even
with the marvellous recuperative powers the Chinese possess, before
the province regains its normal conditions.  For Szechuen is
different from many provinces in China.  The difficulties are
different.  The people--the tribal element, particularly--is a thorn
in the flesh of Chinese officialdom, and at the present juncture in
this volume to ponder upon this element in the national life will be
probably of interest.  Indeed, to read aright the signs of the times
in China were never harder than to-day.

The Revolution, with the hope of a Republic, or some wonderfully
altered system of government, has changed the whole front that China
has been making to the world, and no matter how one may view the turn
of current events and the probable effect of all this change upon the
national life and character of the Chinese, he is wise who tempers
his enthusiastic study of the Revolution and the Reform movement with
a just estimate of the possibilities of the menaces that face Dr. Sun
Yat Sen and his Republican party or Yuan Shin K'ai and his
Monarchical party, in pursuing their respective policies.  Some of
the menaces come from without.  Most, however, come from within, and
at the present time, to those who know their China best, it is
abundantly clear that the New China's greatest hope is in fleeing
from herself.

This Revolution has seemed to bring into being a China that shall be
utterly different from any other China that has gone before.  It is
in very truth a New China, and no one who, with a mildly
understanding heart, watches China to-day can fail to see in all
parts of the Empire that are known to civilisation much which forms a
good augury in the Revolution, the genuineness of a common impulse,
an impulse linked {243} with a dogged persistence of effort to get
out of the shallows of the past into the depths of the future--a
glimpse beyond the garden and cloister of Chinese antiquity into the
wonderful golden age, if the Revolutionary party is blessed.

But this Young China party will be bound to pass through a great home
and foreign political crisis, the eccentricities of whose national
programme may, if the Republican party be guided skilfully, change
the Old China into a powerful participator in the affairs of the
world.  It must now be granted by all the world that the Reform
spirit in China is peculiarly the most real thing in China, and China
herself--by virtue of the Revolution--the most striking feature of
the world's politics to-day.  But what is the sum of it all?  There
are many aspects.  Enjoying all the advantages which have come
naturally to her, China, we must remember, is as old as all history.
One sees the legend of age repeated again and again in the hard
enduring things of time, and equally as much in the great conflict
that had China in its grip for many months.  Every symbol of the
common life, every action of the common people, everything in the
land points with powerful significance to fundamental enduring
things.  China, during the past few years, has been furnishing us
with most things that she has dabbled in--the Revolution itself is
one of the most striking products, with evidence that she will rise
to the position that such a race should.  We are able vividly to
trace, amid the seeming unalterable commonalities of life, the story
of a great overpowering reform.  In many areas this reform reaches
from the minutest details of the ordinary life to the topmost rung of
the political and social ladder; in other parts, through which I have
travelled during the last two years, the general trend of the
people's lives will not allow one to believe for a single moment that
China's chance, even through revolution, will ever come.

But, generally speaking, one has to admit that at {244} one appalling
stroke this mediæval people have come to mingle in the stream of
world politics, behind which they have been lagging for centuries.
In the whirl of her present revolutionary excitement, in the rush of
the commercial torrent which will sweep through the land, the force
of which probably will eclipse even Japan's early activities in the
world's trade, we see a light on the surface of the national life of
this strange people heralding the dawn of a greater day.  Even we who
live in China are lost in wonderment; those at a distance find it
impossible to form a just estimate of its value.  And so vast is the
Empire, and so numerous the people, so great still the incongruities
and absurdities in everyday life in most parts, that we who spend our
lives side by side with the Chinese find difficulty in condensing
concrete opinion on any given subject.  The one thing that is keeping
China back is the Dragon.  We foreigners fail efficiently to
understand China because we do not understand the Dragon.  In China
the Dragon has presided for centuries.  Wrapped intertwiningly into
the private and the national life of the Chinese, this Dragon has
reigned supreme over a make-believe, a show of things, and innate
insincerity and hollowness unparalleled anywhere among civilised
peoples.  The Chinese has, because of the Dragon, cramped himself
into strange shapes all down through history, and the world has not
known what to do with him, so foreign has been his aspect.  But now
the Revolution tells us that China and hundreds of millions of her
people have changed irretrievably--so much must be taken for granted.
The change would probably be quicker and better were it not for the
Dragon, whose fangs, deeply indented into the national life, render
it one great counterpoise to the young Revolutionary party.  Another
counterpoise to that reform which the New China party would institute
at once is the lamentable fact that in a very large proportion of the
Empire's area, in isolated parts far removed from {245} spheres more
easily affected by the Reform movement, there exists not a single
evidence that China is not still in the torpor of the ages.  Here we
find a disorganised condition of society, and see how many forces
work blindly in a wasteful and degenerate manner.  I do not say that
nothing had changed before the Revolution, for certain phases of
reform one could not get away from in even the remotest corners of
China.  But if we discount the military and opium and a certain kind
of popular education, we found little indeed commensurate with the
hue and cry of the reform supposed to have been taking place to
induce those who do not know that the whole Empire was in a desperate
state of eagerness to forge ahead to believe that the Young China had
annihilated the Old China.

And in the times through which we have just passed, it is pardonable
for foreigners, except those who have made the real study of China a
serious matter, to believe that China is getting more and more to
love the foreigner.  I believe that she is--but the love comes
slowly, slowly indeed.

My personal opinion is that to-day, not perhaps less than in 1900,
there are many places in China where the unveneered feeling of the
Chinese towards the foreigner has not changed.  But with that, at
present, I can have nothing to do, and I trust that this Revolution
will not unfold to us further stories--such as had to be told in
Sianfu in Shensi last winter--that will make sad reading.  China has
gained, and is still fast gaining, strength in naval and military
strategy, knowledge in education, in art, in science, in commerce, in
all that she has set her heart upon from outside.  But by the policy
of conservatism, that "China for the Chinese" policy, a great
majority of her _literati_ are weakening her from the inside--and to
such an extent that she may yet have to eat humble bread.  For as the
disturbances in Szechuen have so forcefully proved to the world,
China has not by any means succeeded in {246} putting her own house
in order, and the Revolution has given us another overwhelming truth.

If the reader will turn to a map of China, he will find that perhaps
one-third, certainly one-fourth, of the areas of the provinces of
Western China, and much territory farther north, are marked
"unsurveyed," occupied for the most part by unconquered and
independent and semi-independent tribes of people.  And herein lies
the danger zone of what I would characterise as the greatest of
China's hidden menaces.  Sun Yat Sen's greatest enemy, Yuan Shih
K'ai's greatest enemy--or "the greatest enemies" of any particular
faction of the Government which will become paramount--the
peculiarities of which are not known to a dozen men, it is a menace
which China herself knows little of.  I am fully aware that my
contention will open up entirely new ground.  The question of the
possibility of the Chinese Government having been given such trouble
as she underwent in Szechuen by the aboriginals of interior provinces
has never been broached, so far as my memory serves me, in any of the
literature dealing with China's reform during the last decade.  I am
aware that I shall spring upon the ordinary student of China's
affairs a problem he may wriggle out of by stigmatising as
unimportant, for the world's manner of dealing with China is with
those things seen on the political surface only.  Indeed, this is the
greatest error in literature upon China.  But I am not speaking
without first-hand knowledge.  After having travelled some seven
thousand miles in China, in parts often where no other foreigner has
ever entered, and having lived for several months out in the wilds
where none other than the missionary could have contact--so that none
but the missionary would be able to write about it, which is very
rarely done--it may be granted that an opinion in some definite form
is at least justifiable.  My purpose was to make the subject a
special study.  In most of the country where these {247} tribes
people, ordinary foreign travellers are not allowed to enter.
Officials at the _fus_ or the _hsiens_ where escorts are supplied,
refuse to allow you to start if you are foolish enough to let them
know that you intend starting.  But it is only by actually travelling
in these areas that an accurate impression of existing conditions can
be gathered.  Because a man has travelled from end to end of China by
the main road does not justify him in giving an opinion on the
subject; quite easy it is to travel along the main roads anywhere,
but here one sees comparatively little of the tribal element.  Some
may speak of the patriotism which has grown in China of late years,
and ask if it is possible for any such menace to continue while this
spirit of patriotism thrives.  I admit that a peculiar patriotism has
certainly sprung up among the people of China, but in the places I
have in mind, in the wind-swept savage country of China Far West,
patriotism is not known.  Those who have been watching the trouble in
Szechuen, started long before the Revolution broke out, have been
able to see what sort of patriotism has existed.  It is merely a
common spirit of hooliganism among the common multitudes, and a
spirit of alarming omnipotence among the scholars--little less,
little more.  This exists among the Chinese in these regions, but I
speak here more particularly of the tribal races, among whom this
hatred towards the Government is infinitely more bitter.  These
aboriginal races, or most of them, were, almost without exception, at
one time in the occupation of vast kingdoms, and their first idea is
that the Chinese Government has been built up by a succession of
excessively wicked and unscrupulous men, great commandment breakers,
a peculiarly dangerous type of mankind to which it is unfortunate to
belong.  They know nothing about revolutions or reforms.  They have
it in strong for the Chinese, and are boiling over with a spirit of
revenge.  It is with these people that China will have to deal during
the {248} next decade.  If China were to be engaged in an altercation
with any other Power, this tribal danger would be formidable; if all
becomes peaceful, when the Revolution shall have passed onward, the
task of putting all men and things in China underfoot of the
Government will not be accomplished without effort.

As things stand at present, there looms before China a problem that
will not find solution in being continually shelved.  In conquering
the tribes in her own country, China faces a danger more momentous
than she knows of and greater than the Western world ever dreamed of.

It would be too long a story here to detail the tribes and the
peculiarities of each family--suffice it to say that every tribe in
western China (and their number may be judged from the fact that no
less than twenty are found in Yunnan alone), hate the Chinese and the
Manchus.  In the event of any disturbances arising from the Tibetan
border, the Burma border, the Tonking border, the Mongolian border,
this involved problem of her tribespeople and how to deal with them
would so upset China's calculations that she might lose territory in
China Far West, and history might have to record another rebellion as
terrible, perhaps, as the Mohammedan rebellion in Yunnan of 1855 and
onwards.  Yunnan might then go to France, Tibet to Britain, Mongolia
to Russia.  This would be the zenith of complications, but it is of
this that China has always been afraid, and she will always have
cause for fear so long as this question is ignored.  At the present
moment, when most of the outlying dependencies are declaring their
independence, these fears have a greater significance.  The
non-ability of the officials to grip the situation in these outlying
corners of the Chinese Empire, and to have that local knowledge of
affairs which will come only with local experience, is where China
would feel the pinch in a stand-up combat with unconquered races
within her own dominions.  This feeling of strife has been growing
for years, long before {249} China had an adventurous policy in
Tibet, but however expert China may have been in duping Europe as to
her intentions in Tibet, and maintaining tranquillity in that
country, it is certain that Peking did not, or would not, recognise
the presence of the evil in China Far West, to say nothing of Tibet
for the moment, of many thousands of her nominally governed races
being in a state of lawlessness and social savagery.  Complications
in Tibet are liable, as they have been for many years, to arise at
any time, equally as they are in Kansu, Sinking, Szechuen, or
Yunnan--we have seen them, of course, in Szechuen.  For serious
complications in any of these provinces China has always been
ill-prepared.  It has been extremely doubtful whether her troops
would remain loyal, even after she had got them at the seat of action
after a tortuous march over incomprehensibly difficult country.
There are no railways in Western China to speak of--there are
absolutely none in the areas we have under survey in this
article--and the only West China railway from Tonking into the heart
of the Yunnan province would offer no advantages.

The main trunk lines of China, such as they are, run through country
removed by many days of arduous walking over land from the districts
likely to be first affected.  Suppose, for a moment, that China had
decided to repel the British at Pienma, or that a civil war were to
break out in Yunnan (and neither of these is so unlikely when one
knows the aggressive Yunnanese spirit), the probability is that, were
military assistance necessary, the armies of Szechuen or Hunan would
be mobilised.  But to the provincial capital of Yunnan no less then
thirty-three days would be required from Chengtu (Szechuen's
capital), and to reach Yunnan-fu from Changshu (Hunan's capital) at
least fifty days.  The entire distance in either case would have to
be negotiated on foot and by native boat, and over country ranging
from sea level to say 12,000 feet above, and if complications with
any other Power had arisen in {250} China Far West, with Szechuen in
her fearful ferment one may guess at the sequel.

Generally speaking, the problem of China Far West with the tribes is
akin to that now holding the attention of the world between China and
Tibet.  We all know how, if the Nepaulese had thrown in their lot
with the Dalai Lama there would have been an abrupt interruption to
China's Imperialistic policy there.  With China's awakening in Tibet
and the dispatch of troops to reside there to maintain Chinese
supremacy, we have seen how Great Britain rightly sends her troops a
little farther on the Indian frontier, showing that she intends to
maintain her own _status quo_.  China has Britain to watch there.
And we seem to see in China's activity in Tibet a menace to the peace
of the neighbouring States between Tibet and India.  As Britain
watches China from the Indian side, France, as we have said, watches
China on the Yunnan southern border.  It should be remembered that
the dream of the French in the days of their irresistible impulse for
colonial expansion in the Far West was to annex Yunnan to Indo-China,
and, however many her mistakes, her faith has survived her
disappointment.  Abandoning her dream of territory, she is now going
hard and fast for the trade, and has many thousands of troops to
guard her interests on the Tonking border now that she has her own
railway.  All through Yunnan a strong feeling exists among the
Chinese against the French--the French are not liked, and have been
the bone of contention for many years.  Taking these facts into
consideration, one is inclined to doubt whether China is really the
Power to introduce that government into Tibet which will keep the
country free from internal strife.  So far, it must be admitted, she
has done well, but so many dangers will face her after the Revolution
that it seems a most difficult political task.  Trouble seems
inevitable if the reforming hand is laid too heavily upon the
Tibetans.

{251}

Added to this is the tribal danger.  It may not be generally known
that many of the tribes of this great ethnological garden, stretching
from Burma right away to the north of the Chinese Empire and south as
far as Tonking and Kwangtung, are of Tibeto-Burman origin.  The
Hsi-fan group, the Nou-su group (this is my own theory, for several
other theories are known, and the Nou-su group is placed broadly
under the Lolo, itself a term of opprobrium), and many other tribes
of these great families.  It is safe to say, broadly, that all these
tribes are allied racially or religiously.  It is well known that in
all stages of their civilisation not one tribe has a good word to say
for the Chinese, and in the western provinces these tribes peoples
predominate probably seven in ten.  One cannot pose as a political
prophet.  China's Revolution has shown the world that prophecy in
political possibilities in China is charged with an extraordinary
element of chance, and one may certainly declare that it is not in
the power of any one to say that these non-Chinese peoples could not
be won over to the British.  My personal opinion is that it could be
easily done.

And one is able to imagine that in the revolution of politics in
Eastern Asia which this great Revolution will inevitably bring about,
and it were found necessary for China's regular army to proceed _en
bloc_ to the east of the Empire, the tribes of the west would be able
to create a situation, by civil war and open rebellion against the
Government, of so serious a nature that years would intervene before
China could completely conquer the people and gain their moral
support.

This New China Government--Republican or Monarchical, or both, as may
be--has to find out for herself her own weak points.  No thoughtful
man who has been through these wild regions can doubt that the tribal
danger is one of China's greatest weaknesses, greater as one
understands it more, confronting the new {252} Government with a
problem greater than the Manchu Government was prepared to recognise.

[Illustration: A PRE-REVOLUTION GROUP.  Tuan Fang, the "friend of the
foreigner," is seated.  He was decapitated by his own men in
Szechuen.  General Chang Piao, Commander in Chief of the Hupeh Army,
is standing on his right, in military uniform.  After being routed by
the Revolutionaries, he fled the country.]

In a review of the Szechuen Revolt, the author feels that he has
wandered considerably in his chronicle.  But the information
contained in what has just been written has a most vital bearing upon
the maintenance of peace in Western China.[1]



[1] In 1898 Tuan Fang was a Secretary of the Board of Works; his
rapid promotion after that date was chiefly due to the patronage of
his friend Jung Lu.  For a Manchu, he is remarkably progressive and
liberal in his views.

In 1900 he was Acting-Governor of Shensi.  As the Boxer movement
spread and increased in violence, and as the fears of Jung Lu led him
to take an increasingly decided line of action against them, Tuan
Fang, acting upon his advice, followed suit.  In spite of the fact
that at the time of the _coup d'état_ he had adroitly saved himself
from clear identification with the Reformers and had penned a
classical composition in praise of filial piety, which was commonly
regarded as a veiled reproof to the Emperor for not yielding implicit
obedience to the Old Buddha, he had never enjoyed any special marks
of favour at the latter's hands, nor been received into that
confidential friendliness with which she frequently honoured her
favourites.

In his private life, as in his administration, Tuan Fang has always
recognised the changing conditions of his country and endeavoured to
adapt himself to the needs of the time; he was one of the first among
the Manchus to send his sons abroad for their education.  His
sympathies were at first unmistakably with K'ang Yu-wei and his
fellow-Reformers, but he withdrew from them because of the
anti-dynastic nature of their movement, of which he naturally
disapproved.

As Acting-Governor of Shensi, in July, 1900, he clearly realised the
serious nature of the situation and the dangers that must arise from
the success of the Boxer movement, and he therefore issued two
proclamations to the province, in which he earnestly warned the
people to abstain from acts of violence.  These documents were
undoubtedly the means of saving the lives of many missionaries and
other foreigners isolated in the interior.  In the first a curious
passage occurs, wherein after denouncing the Boxers, he said:--

"The creed of the Boxers is no new thing: in the reign of Chia-Ch'ing
followers of the same cult were beheaded in droves.  But the
present-day Boxer has taken the field ostensibly for the defence of
his country against the foreigner, so that we need not refer to the
past.  While accepting their good intentions, I would merely ask, Is
it reasonable for us to credit these men with supernatural powers of
{253} invulnerability?  Are we to believe that all the corpses which
now strew the country between Peking and the sea are those of
spurious Boxers and that the survivors alone represent the true
faith?"

After prophesying for them the same fate which overtook the
Mohammedan rebels and those of the Taiping insurrection, he delivered
himself of advice to the people which, while calculated to prevent
the slaughter of foreigners, would preserve his reputation for
patriotism.  It is well, now that Tuan Fang has fallen upon evil
days, to remember the good work he did in a very difficult position.
His proclamation ran as follows:--

"I have never for a moment doubted that you men of Shensi are brave
and patriotic and that, should occasion offer, you would fight nobly
for your country.  I know that if you join these Boxers it would be
from patriotic motives.  I would have you observe, however, that our
enemies are the foreign troops who have invaded the metropolitan
province, and not the foreign missionaries who reside in the
interior.  If the Throne orders you to take up arms in the defence of
your country, then I, as Governor of this province, will surely share
in that glory.  But if, on your own account you set forth to slay a
handful of harmless and defenceless missionaries, you will
undoubtedly be actuated by the desire for plunder, there will be
nothing noble in your deed and your neighbours will despise you as
surely as the law will punish you.

"At this very moment our troops are pouring in upon the capital from
every province in the Empire.  Heaven's avenging sword is pointed
against the invader.  This being so, it is absurd to suppose that
there can be any need for such services as you people could render at
such a time.  Your obvious and simple duty is to remain quietly in
your homes pursuing your usual avocations.  It is the business of the
official to protect the people, and you may rely upon me to do so.
As to that Edict of Their Majesties, which last year ordered the
organisation of trained bands, the idea was merely to encourage
self-defence for local purposes, on the principle laid down by
Mencius, watch and ward being kept by each district."

A little later the Governor referred to that decree of the
Empress-Dowager (her first attempt at hedging), which began by
quoting the "Spring and Autumn Classic," in reference to the sacred
nature of foreign envoys, and used it as a text for emphasising the
fact that the members of the several missionary societies in Shensi
had always been on the best of terms with the people.  He referred to
the further fact that many refugees from the famine-stricken
districts of Shansi and numbers of disbanded soldiers had crossed the
borders of the province, and fearing lest these lawless folk should
organise an attack upon the foreigners, he once more urged his people
to permit no violation of the sacred laws of hospitality.  The
province had already commenced to {254} feel the effects of the long
drought which had caused such suffering in Shansi, and the
superstitious lower classes were disposed to attribute this calamity
to the wrath of Heaven, brought upon them by reason of their failure
to join the Boxers.  Tuan Fang proceeded to disabuse their minds of
this idea.

"If the rain has not fallen upon your barren fields," he said, "if
the demon of drought threatens to harass you, be sure that it is
because you have gone astray, led by false rumours and have committed
deeds of violence.  Repent now and return to your peaceful ways, and
the rains will assuredly fall.  Behold the ruin which has come upon
the provinces of Chihli and Shantung; it is to save you from their
fate that I now warn you.  Are we not all alike, subjects of the
great Manchu Dynasty, and shall we not acquit ourselves like men in
the service of the State?  If there were any chance of this province
being invaded by the enemy, you would naturally sacrifice your lives
and property to repel them as a matter of simple patriotism.  But if
in a sudden excess of madness, you set forth to butcher a few
helpless foreigners you will in no wise benefit the Empire, but will
be merely raising fresh difficulties for the Throne.  For the time
being, your own conscience will accuse you of ignoble deeds, and
later you will surely pay the penalty with your lives and the ruin of
your families.  Surely, you men of Shensi, enlightened and
high-principled, will not fall so low as this.  There are, I know,
among you some evil men who, professing patriotic enmity to
foreigners and Christians wax fat on foreign plunder.  But the few
missionary chapels in this province offer but meagre booty and it is
safe to predict that those who begin by sacking them will certainly
proceed next to loot the houses of your wealthier citizens, from the
burning of foreigners' homes the conflagration will spread to your
own, and many innocent persons will share the fate of the slaughtered
Christians.  The plunderers will escape with their booty, and the
foolish onlookers will pay the penalty of these crimes.  Is it not a
well-known fact that every anti-Christian outbreak invariably brings
misery to the stupid innocent people of the district concerned?  Is
not this a lamentable thing?  As for me, I care neither for praise
nor blame; my only object for preaching peace in Shensi is to save
you, my people, from dire ruin and destruction."

Tuan fang was a member of the Mission to Foreign Countries in 1905,
and has received decorations and honours at the hands of several
European sovereigns.  In private life he is distinguished by his
complete absence of formality, a genial, hospitable man, given to
good living, delighting in new mechanical inventions, and fond of his
joke.  It was he who, as Viceroy of Nanking, organised the
International Exhibition.  As Viceroy of Chihli, he was in charge of
the arrangements for the funeral of the Empress-Dowager, and a week
after that impressive ceremony, for alleged want of respect and
decorum, it {255} was charged against him that he had permitted
subordinate officials to take photographs of the cortège, and that he
had even dared to use certain trees in the Sacred Enclosure of the
Mausolea as telegraph poles, for which offences he was summarily
cashiered; since then he has lived in retirement.  The charges were
possibly true, but it is matter of common knowledge that the real
reason of his disgrace was a matter of palace politics rather than
funeral etiquette, for he was a protégé of the Regent, and his
removal was a triumph for the Yehonala clan at a time when its
prestige called for a demonstration of some sort against the growing
power and influence of the Emperor Kwang-Hsu's brothers.




{256}

CHAPTER XVIII

SOME REVOLUTION FACTORS

Revolution is endemic in this land of great movements.  The
particular spirit that sways the feelings of the sensuous populace
manifests itself now in the sporadic riotings that seem to occur
everywhere and everywhen, and from no conceivable cause; again in the
more widespread upheaval to which we give the name of "rebellion"--an
abortive revolution; but ever and anon, gathering momentum from
varying petty upheavals, the torrent of passions aroused bursts all
restraining bounds and the country is swept from end to end by the
onrushing flood.  All erstwhile authority is at an end; fire and
sword are the only "powers that be"; the land drinks deeply of the
life-blood of its sons and daughters; and then, when the torrent of
fury has spent its strength, Nature reclothes herself in a new garb,
new homesteads and teeming villages spring into existence, and a new
authority takes to itself power and grows on to greatness.  Decades
and centuries roll by; and this Dynasty also, like the effete
Government it displaced, totters through a long period of hoary
childishness to its terrible fall.

Even the casual observer realises that the last scene of a last act
is being played out before our eyes.  Full soon the curtain will fall
and the Ta Ts'ing Dynasty exist in history only.  Its "cup of
iniquity" seems long to have been full.

Five hundred years ago there was a somewhat {257} analogous
situation.  The Emperor of the time, Hwei-ti by name, was but a
stripling, and utterly incapable of guiding the ship of state through
the stormy seas of Court intrigue.  His uncle, Prince Yen, the Yuan
Shih K'ai of his age, had for years been drilling his soldiery,
accumulating war stores, and in every way preparing to seize the
reins of power.  In 1400 A.D. the time seemed ripe; and in August of
that year Yen led forty thousand picked men into Shangtung.  No less
than three hundred thousand loyalists were sent to oppose him; but
the better trained and more skilfully led rebels, though numerically
so inferior, utterly routed the badly-placed horde led by General
Ping-Wen.  This was but the beginning of a four-years relentless war,
waged mostly in the northern and eastern provinces--Shangtung,
Chihli, Anhwei and Kiangsu--leading to the flight of Hwei-ti to
Szechuen (where he became a Buddhist priest) and the proclamation of
Prince Yen as Emperor under the title of Ch'eng Tsu.

This Revolution in no way affected the Dynasty, which, in spite of
internal uprisings and external depredations by Mongols and Japanese,
ran for another 250 years in unbroken succession.  Nevertheless
during the whole of this period the history of China is one long
chapter of domestic trouble, corruption and decadence alike of ruler
and ruled, whilst over all Court life the deadly upas-tree of
eunuchdom cast its blasting shadow.  There were always rebellions,
always the argument of the naked sword in the settlement of
differences--and always the emerging from one cloud of trouble to
enter but another, and that of a deeper darkness.  Then came the end.

A rebellion that shook the Empire to its centre and brought about the
end of the Ming Dynasty broke out in Shensi, and quickly spread
through the neighbouring provinces, until not only Shensi, but
Shansi, Honan, and Hupeh were involved.  Like the Revolution that
{258} threatens to be the end of the present Dynasty, and has already
foreshadowed the great and momentous changes to be, this rebellion
was conceived and carried out by a "General Li"--Li Tsi-cheng by
name.  For some few years the Government was able to keep the upper
hand--indeed, in 1634 it seemed as if the generalissimo of the rebel
forces was hopelessly involved in a mountainous cul-de-sac, and that
his extermination was but a question of time.  Not knowing the
strength of the rebel army, the commander of the Imperial forces
granted terms of capitulation.  Li brought away his forces to the
number of thirty-six thousand with only the loss of their arms, much
to the chagrin of the Imperial leader.

There was the great mistake of the Imperialists.  Almost immediately
the Manchus, having been joined by the Mongol forces, harassed the
northern borders of the Empire.  The Ming Dynasty had lost the
confidence of the nation; officialdom was at its weakest through long
years of corruption and misrule; General Li seized his opportunity,
other leaders joined themselves and their forces to the rebel army,
and China for ten years became one great battlefield.[1]  To give but
a solitary instance of the carnage that ensued: Li had unsuccessfully
invested Kaifeng-fu earlier in the year, but having captured Nanyang,
he led his victorious troops before the former city at the close of
1641, only to be repulsed, losing an eye, pierced by an arrow, in the
attempt.  In the following year Li again laid siege to the seemingly
impregnable place; and, finally, enraged by the nine-months
resistance of plucky Kaifeng, turned the waters of the Yellow River
into the doomed city.  The loss of life was fearful--some million
souls, it is said, perishing in the muddy torrent that swept across
the plain, twenty feet high.  Li himself was compelled to beat a
hasty retreat, losing ten thousand men in his flight.  Compared with
such awful {259} carnage and loss of life, the casualties in the war
of the present Revolution seem but trifling.

In the early part of 1644 Li was so far successful that he proclaimed
himself Emperor, called his Dynasty "Tai Shun," appointed various
Boards to control the affairs of the country, granted patents of
nobility and other rewards to all who had faithfully served him, and
generally believed that the Empire, with the throne of it, was his.
The rebel chieftain marched through rivers of blood to Peking,
captured the city, and found that the Emperor (Chwang Lieh-ti) had
hanged himself in his own girdle.  The revolution seemed complete,
and the prize of life within his grasp.

One enemy remained unconquered, but this enemy was one Wu San-kwei,
the commandant of the fortress of Ning Yuen.  His force was not a
large one, and his supplies limited.  To crush him utterly seemed but
the work of a few days to the one who had swept on to Peking in one
victorious career.  Li Tsi-cheng himself led the army--strong in
itself, doubly strong in its sense of reliance born of victory.  Love
is strong; love ruthlessly deprived of its object breeds a hatred
that is stronger tenfold in its thirst for vengeance.  Wu San-kwei's
beautiful mistress, whom he passionately adored, had been ravished by
one of the rebels.  Weak himself, he called in a mighty power to aid
him in wreaking his revenge.  About 270 miles away was the Manchu
host, eagerly awaiting the opportunity to strike the blow they had so
long been preparing.  Wu must have foreseen the consequences.  It was
a deliberate betrayal of his country to her bitterest foes.  Hate had
its way, and called in its only effective instrument.

In the battle that followed the Chinese army was completely surprised
and routed, Li being one of the first to flee.  His power was broken,
his army gone, and the last of the Chinese Emperors had reigned his
reign.  The Manchu had come.

Li's conquest of the Empire was completed with the {260} taking of
Peking; in Peking the subjugation of China by the Manchus was begun.
For thirty-seven years the work of conquest and pacification was
carried on.  Then the Empire had rest for a season.

We quote the following from an interesting article that appeared in
the Central China Post of December 2, 1911: "From this date there was
no serious internal disturbances in China for a hundred and seventy
years.  During the greater portion of the time the administration was
at once strong, able, and enlightened, for two of the first four
Manchu Emperors were great and commanding personalities, while the
length of time they severally occupied the throne did much to
consolidate the position of the Dynasty.  The second Manchu
sovereign, the great Kanghi, proclaimed Emperor at the age of eight,
in 1661, occupied the throne for the long term of sixty-one years,
and his long rule was extremely brilliant and vigorous.  Kanghi's
immediate successor, Yung Ching, was far from being a weak man; but
as his brief reign of thirteen years was characterised by no novel
departure and no startling events, he is much less prominent than
either his father or the son that succeeded him.  The fourth Manchu
sovereign would have had even a longer reign than his grandfather had
if he had not adopted the unusual course of abdicating the throne,
after occupying it sixty years.  In this connection, it may be
remarked that cases of abdication are about as rare in Chinese as in
European history, while in Japan during the last millennium it has
been quite exceptional for a sovereign to die in actual occupation of
the throne.  The second Manchu Emperor, Kanghi (1661-1722), was one
of the greatest and most successful rulers that ever exercised sway
in China.  But his grandson, the fourth Manchu Emperor, Keen-lung
(1735-96), was even greater and even more successful still.
Keen-lung was twenty-five years of age when he ascended the throne in
1735; thus when he abdicated {261} in 1796 he was a patriarch of
fourscore years and six.  Yet even till that date he had retained the
active habits which had characterised his youth.  Much of his
official work was carried on at an early hour of the morning; and
Europeans who had audience with him shortly before his abdication
were greatly surprised to find the patriarch so keen and eager for
business at these early conferences.  Keen-lung did not omit to
train, or at least to try to train, a successor.  He abdicated in
1796, as has just been written; but for three years after that date
he kept a keen watch upon his son and successor, Kia-king, exerting
all his efforts to inculcate in him the right principles of sound
government.  But the results were nothing much to boast of after all.
Half a century after the death of Keen-lung, the account of the state
of China, given by writers notoriously friendly to the Manchus, is
lurid indeed.  The corruption of the public service, we are told, had
gradually alienated the sympathies of the people.  Conscience and
probity had for a time been banished from it.  The example of a few
men of honoured capacity served but to bring into more prominent
relief the faults of the administrative class as a whole.  Justice
was nowhere to be found; the verdict was sold to the highest bidder.
It became far from uncommon for rich criminals sentenced to death to
get substitutes procured for them.  Offices were sold to men who had
never passed an examination, and who were wholly illiterate, the sole
value of the office lying in its being a tool for extortion.
Extortion and malversation ran to extraordinary lengths.  In
Kia-king's early years, when the minister Hokwan was condemned and
executed for peculation, it was found that the fortune he had amassed
amounted to eighty million taels--more than twenty-six million pounds
sterling.  The officials waxed rich on ill-gotten wealth, and a few
accumulated enormous fortunes.  But the administration went on
sinking lower and lower in the estimation of the people, {262} while,
of course, its efficiency was getting steadily crippled.  Now, the
peculiar Civil Service of China is at once the strength and weakness
of the Empire.  It needs to be made to toe the line very strictly by
a stern and upright and ever alert Imperial master.  Keen-lung
himself knew its weak spots, and more than once thought of finding
drastic remedies for them.  But when questioned on the matter, one of
the ablest and most honest of his ministers maintained that there was
no remedy.  'It is impossible; the Emperor himself cannot do it--the
evil is too widespread.  He will, no doubt, send to the scene of
disturbance and complaint mandarins clothed with all his authority;
but they will only commit greater exactions, and the inferior
magistrates, in order to be left undisturbed, will offer them
presents.  The Emperor will then be told that all is well, while
everything is really wrong, and the poor people are being oppressed.'

"Therefore, Keen-lung had to depend almost entirely upon others as
his 'ears and eyes.'  It is all very well to speak of him doing and
seeing everything for himself, but in an Empire such as his the thing
was really entirely out of the question.  However, his untiring and
unceasing energy did much to make his subordinates honest and
attentive to their duties, in spite of themselves.  But his
successor, Kia-king (1796-1821), was neither a strong man nor a great
worker, and under him the debacle began.  Under the weak but
well-meaning Taou-kwang (1821-50) it gathered headway apace, with the
result that within half a century of the great Keen-lung's demise the
Manchu Dynasty had to face a national revolt that put its existence
into direst jeopardy."

Steep was the descent and quick was the pace.  As had been the Ming
Dynasty five centuries ago, so had become their so promising
succeeding race.  "Whom the gods would destroy, they first make mad."
There had been that irritating intercourse with the outside {263}
world, and the war--disastrous to China--consequent upon the proud
Empire's attempt to treat all foreign peoples as vassals of the Son
of Heaven.  But it was hoped that with the signing of the Treaty of
Nanking wiser councils would prevail, and that the Chinese had
learned to respect the foreigners, or at least the thunder of their
guns.  But "such was the gross ignorance of the educated and leading
men of China in regard to foreign nations, it was believed that they
were utterly beneath the contempt of China."  The war had taught them
no lesson.  China's officials were as arrogant as ever.  The civil
administration was equally incapable of dealing with and directing
the affairs of State.

In fact, there was a parallel between the Empire at the time under
review and the conditions that obtained when the storm of Revolution
burst on Wuchang last tenth of October, as will have been seen in
former parts of this volume.

Everywhere there had existed secret societies, or numbers of men
banded together by oath to destroy the "Manchu usurpers," and ever
and again some malcontent or another would set up the banner of
insurrection, and to him would flock all the discontents and bandits
of the neighbourhood.  This is the opportunity of the secret society
men.  The cry of "China for the Chinese" is raised, patriotic
feelings are appealed to, and save for the fact that the secret is
always betrayed at headquarters long before the would-be
revolutionaries are ready, any year of the past century might have
seen a repetition of the scenes which are briefly referred to here.
Ten years after the Treaty of Nanking news came that one Hung
Siu-Chuen, amongst the mountain fastnesses of the south, with a small
band of men known as the Society of Worshippers of God, had placed
himself at the head of the discontented people--driven to rebellion
by official persecution--and was defeating the Imperial troops
everywhere.  He claimed the Throne, called himself the {264}
Tien-wang ("celestial or heavenly king"), and styled his new Dynasty
the Taiping ("Great Peace").  To usher in the Golden Age was the work
to which he dedicated himself.  Threefold was his desire for freedom.
The people groaned under the tyranny of an alien power, and so
desired civil liberty; they were cursed by the superstition and
idolatry to which they had given themselves, and so desired religious
liberty; they saw the craving of opium blighting the lives of their
best, and so were fighting for moral liberty for the nation.  All
Manchus were ruthlessly put to the sword, all temples and idols were
utterly destroyed, and all traffic in or smoking of opium was sternly
prohibited.  In the early stages of the movement the moral forces of
Christianity, the religious opinions that seemed to hold sway in the
minds of the Taipings, and the high aims of the leaders of the
movement made missionaries and Christians at home think that China
was to arise from the ashes of her destroyed paganism, clothed in the
fair garments of Christianity.  Reports to the Dragon Throne informed
the Emperor that the rebels were in full flight.  As a matter of
fact, they were carrying everything before them.  They swept
triumphantly through the provinces of Kwangsi and Hunan, then on to
the busy mart of Hankow in Hupeh; there, freighting a thousand junks
with their spoils, they swept on down the Yangtze to the ancient
capital of the Ming Dynasty--Nanking.  This city fell after a brief
siege, and with its fall the initial work in preparing the way for a
new kingdom was come.  _If_--and in the "if" is perhaps the reason of
the collapse of the movement--if the new-made king had known how to
construct after he had done the work of destruction, there would have
been a lasting revolution instead of an almost forgotten rebellion.
One authority, who was in China at the time, says that the very
success of the movement seems to have not only affected for the worse
the principles of its leaders and the morals of the {265} Taipings,
but also to have attracted a great many of the baser sort to it.  Dr.
Martin, in his "A Cycle of Cathay," says: "He, the Tien-wang,
sanctioned robbery and violence, and himself set the example of
polygamy, an example eagerly followed by his subordinates, who had no
scruple in filling their harems with the wives and daughters of their
enemies."  The opinion of the outside Powers concerning the
insurgents was not improved by the atrocities of a horde of
secret-society men, who belonged to the Triad Society, and were
sometimes called Redheads.  These were regarded as being part of the
Taiping Army, though having really no connection with it or with the
aims of its leaders.  Their awful cruelty and bloodshed in capturing
Shanghai not only induced the French to expel them, but alienated the
sympathies of the foreign Powers from the Taipings themselves.  One
other fact should be mentioned.  The foreign merchants were also
prejudiced against the rebels.  This is easily understandable.  Trade
was at a standstill throughout one-third of the Empire, and that the
part most easily accessible; and at the same time the stringent laws
against the use of opium caused the sympathies of some to be against
the movement.  First, an American, General Ward, organised a force of
foreigners and natives and showed the Chinese Government what a
trained soldiery could do.  Then, General Gordon was lent to the
Imperialists by the British Government.  One by one the cities were
retaken, until at last, with the fall of Nanking, after a protracted
siege and the suicide of the Tien-wang, the rebellion came to an end.

At this juncture of the present Revolution, when so many are
clamouring for foreign intervention, and when individual foreigners
are taking it upon themselves to address the leaders of the parties
in the interests of an early peace, it is well to pause and give due
weight to the arguments of the other side.  From the very beginning
of this struggle the foreign Powers have {266} been firmly but
respectfully asked to keep their hands off.  This is a domestic
matter.  The Chinese wish to be allowed to fight the thing out.  A
premature patching up of so great an upheaval would be far more
disastrous than a peace deferred.  The movement is a people's
movement.  The nation knows its own mind on the matter, and is intent
on seeing its will carried into effect.  That will may be guided into
right and safe channels; but to thwart it by interference from
without would be like attempting to dam up the Yangtze--an operation
fraught with dire disaster to all concerned.

The suppression of a revolution _ab extra_ always reverses the wheels
of progress, and in this instance who can tell by how many centuries
it has postponed the adoption of Christianity by the Chinese? ...
Looking back at this distance of time, with all the light of
subsequent history upon the events, we are still inclined to ask
whether a different policy might not have been better for China.  Had
foreign Powers promptly recognised the Taiping chief on the outbreak
of the second war, might it not have shortened a chapter of horrors
that dragged on for fifteen more years, ending in the Nien-fei and
Mohammedan rebellions and causing the loss of fifty millions of human
lives....  More than once, when the insurgents were on the verge of
success, the prejudice of short-sighted diplomats decided against
them, and an opportunity was lost such as does not occur once in a
thousand years."[2]  Other witnesses of these times and events speak
in a similar strain.  On the other hand, it has to be remembered that
there was no little failure on the part of the Taiping Wang to
realise the need for reconstruction of a new kingdom, and seeming
lack of ability to use the fruits of his victories.  The suppression
of the Taipings took fourteen years (1850-64).  The outside world has
forgotten, if it ever knew, the extent and horrors {267} of that
terrible time.  Not so the Chinese people.  Small wonder is it that
when Li Yuan Hung's army began their terrible slaughter of the
Manchus in Wuchang, young and old, rich and poor, taking only such
clothes as they wore or such goods as they could carry, quietly and
in a sort of unorganised order started, eight hundred thousand of
them, on their flight from doomed Hankow.  For there were many who
still remembered the coming of the dreaded Taipings, and still
shuddered at the thought of that "tomb of the seventy thousand"
outside Wuchang city, and still remembered the similar flight of
fifty years ago.  They knew, too, of the Taiping rebellion, that nine
provinces had been desolated by it.  Towns and cities had been left
mere heaps of ruins (like unto Hankow at this present time), and in
them wild beasts had their dens, while some twenty millions of people
had been sacrificed in that terrible struggle of a nation at war with
itself.

Almost concurrently with the Taiping movement came the great
Mohammedan rebellion, under the leadership of Yakub Beg.  About this
time there was more than one attempt on the part of Islam to avenge
the insults of the arrogant Chinese, a by no means insignificant
rising, occurring in Yunnan, where the Panthays, taking advantage of
the Taiping troubles, captured the western half of Yunnan, and made
Talifu their capital, under Sultan Sulieman.  But by far the greatest
rising, both in duration and effect, was that of the north-west,
which originated in eastern Turkestan, swept over the Tien-Shan
Mountains, into Ili, on through Kansu, and into the province of
Shensi.

If ever a time seemed favourable to the Revolutionary cause, surely
this was the time.  The Taiping rebellion was not yet quelled, China
was embroiled with England, and the rebel chief was able without
serious opposition to hold on his triumphant way.  Yakub Beg was so
brilliantly successful in his "holy war" that he was styled the
"Champion Father" by the {268} Mohammedan world.  At last had arisen
the man who would, under Allah's blessing, purge away the stain of
insult from the "Faithfuls'" escutcheon.  It did really seem as if a
permanent kingdom had been founded in this north-western section of
the Flowery Land, and that a new leader was to be the first of a long
line of Mohammedan kings.  Then one of those unanticipated changes
occurred--that is, unanticipated by the casual observer of things
Chinese.  In little more than a decade from the first raising of the
standard of rebellion, Yakub Beg died, a broken and a beaten man,
away in far distant Korla.  For the army which had been trained in
the hard school of experience of fighting the Taipings was, under the
excellent leadership of General Tso, practically invincible when the
undisciplined fanatic hordes hurled themselves against it.  City
after city was retaken, until in 1878 the rebellion was at an end,
and the times that had been were only a horrible nightmare in the
memories of those who had endured, suffered, and fortunately escaped
with lives.

The last of these great political movements, which must be briefly
referred to here was generally known as the Boxer uprising.  This,
like the Taiping rebellion, had as its origin that spirit of enmity
that has ever been manifested between the north and the south.  Never
was this struggle so manifestly obvious as during this great movement
that is still taking place in China.  The very names of "Northern
Army" and "Southern Army," used by the Hankow populace in everyday
parlance when speaking of the opposing forces under Yuan Shih K'ai
and Li Yuan Hung respectively, vouches for evidence of the truth of
the statement.  In that valuable contribution towards the history of
the inwardness of the Boxer movement, "China Under the
Empress-Dowager,"[3] this eternal quarrel between the north and the
south is well worked out.  We need do {269} no other than refer the
reader to it in passing.  In fact, the cause of the Reform movement
of 1898 was that the versatile scholars of the south had captivated
the mind of the young Emperor, and had led him to issue his
celebrated Reform Edict.  On the other hand, jealous of their
southern opponents, the wily men of the north used their influence
with Jung-Lu and the Empress-Dowager to bring about the _coup d'état_
that practically dethroned the Emperor and was the first of a series
of retrogressive steps culminating in the enlisting of the Patriotic
Harmony Train-bands (Boxers), to Rid China of the Accursed _Presence_
of the Foreigners.

Since the time of the Taipings a new element of contention had crept
into State politics--the foreigner.  Whether as missionary or
merchant, as financier or diplomat, the "foreigner" was now a force
to be reckoned with, and after this brief review we shall note how
all these factors paved the way for perhaps the greatest movement of
all, the Revolution of 1911-12.  Away in the Kwan district of
Shantung there existed a secret society rejoicing in the euphemistic
title of Plum Blossom Fists.  The late Tuan Fang, when issuing his
famous proclamation that all missionaries should be protected in his
province, compared these Boxers to the White Lily Society[4] which
had done so much to {270} bring about the downfall of the Yuan
Dynasty in the fourteenth century.

But in these Plum Blossom Fists there was something more than the
usual spirit animating the secret-society men.  There was the newly
awakened "patriotism"--a word and an idea just taking hold of the
student throughout the country.  The utter defeat of China in her
short, sharp conflict with the Japanese, that hitherto despised
"nation of dwarfs," caused a thrill of indignation throughout the
Empire.  "What are you going to do now?" I asked a young student,
just through his college course.  The answer came pat.  "I am going
to Japan to study military tactics, and so help _save my country_," a
reply pregnant with meaning.  But the Plum Blossom Fists had much to
learn before they could come under the spell of that young student's
idea.  _They_ were the ones to save China.  Themselves invulnerable,
their mission from Heaven itself, their cause righteous, there could
be only victory for them and salvation for their country!

The spirit that animated these fanatical devotees with their blind
belief in incantations and charms[5] was also at work in the more
enlightened Kwang-hsu.  China was being dismembered.  Germany had
practically occupied Shantung.  Russia possessed Liaotung.  Japan
held Formosa by right of treaty.  And the Powers were coolly
discussing "spheres of influence."  They understood the temper of the
Chinese as little as the Chinese had understood that of the
foreigners.  The young Emperor and his advisers realised something of
the power of knowledge.  And as a result of that Reform Edict the
eyes of Young China were turned from the {271} contemplation of a
dead past to the quickening study of all that was best and living in
the colleges of the world.  The _coup d'état_ of September 22, 1898,
for a time put back the hands of the clock of progress, and the
Empress-Dowager entered upon her reactionary career.  The Boxers,
every one of them, had for their objective the expulsion of the
Tartar Dynasty, and the putting of a Chinese emperor on the throne.
Adroitly the clever Empress laid hold of their "patriotic" desires
and turned the machinations of the secret societies against the
Government into a conspiracy for the utter extermination of the
foreigner in China.  Wiser counsels had for a time prevailed, and at
the commencement of Boxerism the Imperial troops in Shantung had kept
the "patriots" in order, overcoming by force of arms a party led by
an abbot.  Although several of these fanatics were shot, and others
executed by the military commander, thus proving their
"vulnerability," the Government was not disposed to do other than to
accept such seemingly powerful allies.  "They may be useless as a
fighting force, but their claims to magic will dishearten the enemy,
whilst their enthusiasm will inspire the soldiers of the regular
army."  Such was the subtle reasoning of the astute Empress.  The die
was cast, and she threw in her lot with those who had but a few short
months previously been thirsting for her own blood.

Such heroes as Jung-Lu, Yuan-Ch'ang, and Hsu-Ching-Cheng tried in
vain to turn the infatuated ruler from her fatal policy.  The two
latter saved the lives of many a foreigner--that of the writer
amongst them--by substituting the ideograph meaning "Protect" for the
one meaning "Slay" in the Imperial Edict telegraphed all over the
Empire, but suffered the extreme penalty themselves when the Empress
found out what they had done.  "Their limbs should be torn asunder,"
she screamed, "by chariots driven in opposite directions.  Let them
be summarily decapitated."

{272}

So the Boxers were let loose upon Chinese Christians and foreign
missionaries alike.  Killing, looting, burning went on apace; but
perhaps the most tragic scene of the horrible time was that enacted
at Taiyuenfu, in the yamen of Yu Hsien, the Nero of Shansi, who
himself helped to do to death fifty-five missionaries--men, women,
and children--on July 9, 1900.

In North China and Manchuria, to say nothing of isolated instances
south of the Yangtze, over two hundred missionaries, Protestant and
Roman Catholic, were massacred, while several thousands of Chinese
Christians followed their foreign pastors to the death.

The events that led to the collapse of the movement need but a
passing mention.  They are matters of history but recently in the
minds of all.  The Taku forts capitulated to the little foreign
gunboats, the army of the allies captured Tientsin, and a composite
force, fifteen thousand strong, marched on Peking.  In less than a
fortnight the work was successfully accomplished; and on the 14th of
August the foreigners, with their Legations, which had been besieged
by a savage horde of Boxers and Imperial troops since the 20th of
June, were relieved.  Peking was taken by assault, and China's
Imperial Court fled by the "Victory" Gate in three common mulecarts
for Sianfu, in far-away Shansi.  The movement ended in a failure as
lamentable as its inception had been a mistake.  It was conceived in
no spirit of mere thirst for blood.  People and Court believed that
the foreign Powers were "swallowing up" China, and in a moment of mad
frenzy believed that the only way of escape for themselves and
salvation for their country lay along the line of utter extermination
of the foreigner and all that belonged to him.

This rapid survey--touching upon the salient features of each of
these great heart-throbs of the nation--shows us the main
contributory factors of the People's Revolution of 1911-12.

[Illustration: THE CHILD-EMPEROR OF CHINA.  Last of the Manchu
Dynasty, that was overthrown by the Revolution.]

{273}

The events leading up to the Taiping Rebellion have shown that the
nation was ripe for a change.  The fruit, rotten at the core, was
dropping from the tree; as was the Ming Dynasty at its fall, so had
become the Tsing Dynasty that supplanted it.  The successful
revolution under General Li Ts'i-chang was brought to naught by the
coming in of an exterior power that snatched the fruits of victory
for itself, and, by putting down the Revolution, put down the Dynasty
also, and seized the whole country.  The rebellion under Tien Wang
was put down in the same way, but this time the "foreign Power"
invoked was not imbued with a lust for conquest.  Yet it brought the
Chinese politics a new force to be reckoned with--the foreigner, with
his law of extra-territoriality.  The awakening of China began with
the utter defeat of the Imperial forces by the troops of Japan, and a
craving to know the reason of it all obsessed the nation's mind.
"Let us go to school with the foreigner; let us study his books"
became the nation's watchword.  Then there began to dawn in China the
thought that far too much national wealth and power and prestige had
been handed over to foreign control.  There was alarm, suspicion,
bitter animosity--and the Boxer movement.  With the putting down of
this movement and the generous treatment--in spite of all criticism
to the contrary--meted out to China by the foreign Powers, came the
consciousness of her real needs.  From this time China put her youth
to school with the "foreigner."  Students went abroad by thousands,
Japan taking by far the greater number.  Already there was the
conviction that the Government was corrupt, inefficient, and
incurable.  The spirit of patriotism had not only been awakened in
the heart of the nation, but possessed the soul of each of her
students, and even the country yokels were full of the idea of it.
From contact with the outside world and from a comparative study of
empires, one with another and each with China, came {274} the third
necessary factor of China--the awakened and trained mind.

It is common opinion that the schools and colleges run by foreigners
in China have contributed in no small measure to this Revolutionary
movement.  It is pointed out that missionary propaganda have also
played their part in creating in the Chinese mind a desire to do away
with make-believe and insincerity.  The charge is a true one.  All
these new forces coming into the life of the young student must have
created an intense dissatisfaction with things as they were.  The
late Empress-Dowager seems to have been by no means unmindful of this
tendency of missionary and educational effort.  To this may be
attributed, partly at least, her attempt to exterminate missionaries
and all they stood for.

It must be the aim and intention of the great body of educationists
throughout the Empire to come to the help of Young China in the time
of its greatest need.  So much depends on the constructive ability of
the student body during the next few years that well-wishers of China
will welcome every honest attempt to help the student life to attain
its ideals; and not only so--to follow out in their after-life the
policy dictated to them by the manifold call of duty of their
enlightened conscience.  For this reason, too, China will assuredly
welcome the efforts of the Occident to lead her into the ways of
higher education, such as may be obtained in the new Hongkong
University and the University that is to be in the Wu-han centre.

"The students of to-day are the masters of to-morrow."  Nowhere is
this more true than in China, and statesmen-missionaries have always
advocated education as the surest means of reaching the heart of the
nation; for the other classes look to the student class for guidance,
and if one can win the heart of the student, the ear of the people is
gained also.  The influence of the student in China has always been
great, {275} but it is likely to be still greater in the future.
Which brings us another problem.  The students rule the people--who
rules the students?  For except in the case of the few who study
abroad, a standard beyond that of an English Sixth Form is seldom
attained, while opportunities for carrying on education at that
critical time when for the first time the student has begun to love
his studies are very few.  China needs her great force of students,
but she needs men of initiative, men who can lead, men whose higher
education has given them a broader outlook.

It is to supply this need that the United Universities Scheme has
been organised.  Space prevents anything but the merest outline of
the scheme.  It is proposed, however, to plant in the Wuhan centre,
that heart of China, a University, that will combine the highest
education, both Western and Chinese, with those forces and influences
that make for the upbuilding of strong Christian character.  The
Universities of Britain and America will supply the University staff,
while various missionary societies will plant hostels on the
University grounds, and in these hostels the students must reside.
As a result, while they are getting an education equal to that of a
Western University, they will, at the same time, be brought in
contact with men of Christian character, while that part of their
being which Chinese students are all too apt to forget will be
strengthened.  It must be clear that, on the ground of expense alone,
for one missionary body to attempt to do this would be impossible.
But the University Scheme, without isolating the student from the
influence of the mission school, will enable him to complete his
education.  Here he will have an opportunity of preparing for his
lifework, for there will be courses both in philosophical and
technical subjects.  Indeed, the University, will aim at giving the
student as thorough an education as he would receive were he to study
abroad, combined, as has been said, with an ennobling Christian
influence.

{276}

China cannot depend for ever on the foreigner.  Indeed, Young China
often shows that she would rather rule herself.  For a few years our
influence will be felt.  And how can we better make our influence
felt than by raising up men who, when we are no longer wanted, will
be able to carry on that influence that we are striving to exert?  It
is a question that is worth while facing.

The lesson had been learned to some effect.  From the outset of this
People's Revolution, the stern measures of General Li Yuan Hung to
safeguard person and property of natives and foreigners alike, and
the fair and impartial spirit shown by the Revolutionists in carrying
these measures out, have astonished the world and won golden opinions
for General Li himself.  The celebrated Edict, the first issued by
the Republican leader, was as follows:--


    "I am to dispel the Manchu Government and to revive the rights of
    the Han people.  Let all keep orderly and not disobey military
    discipline.  The rewards of merit and the punishment of crime are
    as follows:--

    "Those who conceal any Government officials are to be beheaded.

    "Those who inflict injuries on foreigners are to be beheaded.

    "Those who deal unfairly with the merchants are to be beheaded.

    "Those who interrupt commerce are to be beheaded.

    "Those who give way to slaughter, burning, adultery are to be
    beheaded.

    "Those who attempt to close the markets are to be beheaded.

    "Those who supply the troops with foodstuffs will be rewarded.

    "Those who supply ammunition are to be rewarded.

    "Those who can afford protection to the Foreign Concessions are
    to be highly rewarded.

    "Those who guard the churches are to be highly rewarded.

    "Those who can lead on the people to submission are to be highly
    rewarded.

    "Those who can encourage the country people to join will be
    rewarded.

    "Those who give information as to the movements of the enemy are
    to be rewarded.

    "Those who maintain the prosperity of commerce are to be rewarded.

    "The Eighth Moon of the 4,609th year of the Huang Dynasty."


{277}

Those who the most closely scrutinised the consequent conduct of the
Revolutionary troops will be able to testify to the impartial way in
which the terms of the Edict were carried out.  Neither extenuating
circumstances nor official rank saved a transgressor.  Li Yuan Hung
meant what he said, and right throughout the Revolutionary movement
his word was his bond.  From one example learn all.  When Hanyang
went over to the Revolutionists they installed a "_fu_" magistrate in
Hanyang, one Li Ping, who had been charged by the late Government
with being in league with Kang Yu Wei, the famous reformer, and had
been sentenced to ten years' imprisonment.  While in prison he met a
criminal named Cheo, and these two soon struck up a friendship.  On
being released by the Revolutionists Li was placed in office, and
arranged for Cheo to be his secretary.  Cheo was in a position to
receive the incoming money for the Revolutionary Cause.  Thirty
thousand taels in one amount was subscribed, of which Cheo handed in
only twenty thousand, keeping the balance for himself.  This leaked
out subsequently.  Cheo was immediately decapitated, and his head was
hung outside the west gate of the city.  Cheo had only been two and a
half days out of prison.



[1] See "Imperial History of China."

[2] Dr. W. A. P. Martin's "Cycle of Cathay."

[3] "China Under the Empress-Dowager," by J. O. P. Bland and E.
Backhouse.  London: William Heinemann, 1911.

[4] "The ostensible purpose for which numbers enrolled themselves was
the worship of the idols, and more especially of the Goddess of
Mercy.  The real object, however, was a political one.  The agitated
state of the country seemed to Hai-Shan (a conspicuous member of the
White Lily sect) a sufficient reason why the standard of rebellion
should be raised.  At a great meeting of the initiated he declared
that the goddess was about to come to the earth in human form to
deliver them from their oppressors, and that now was the time to
declare themselves against the Mongols.  This proposition was
received with the utmost enthusiasm.  A white horse and a black cow
were sacrificed to Heaven in order to secure its intervention on
their behalf, and having adopted a red scarf to be worn round their
heads as their distinctive mark, they broke out in rebellion against
the Government" (MacGowan's "Imperial History of China").

[5] Each Boxer carried about his mascot or talisman, a piece of
yellow paper on which was printed in red ink a figure of Buddha
without feet but with four halos.  On this paper were ideographs
which were to be repeated at intervals as a charm.  It is said that
the late Empress-Dowager repeated this incantation seventy times a
day, and at each repetition the chief eunuch shouted, "There goes
another foreign devil!"




{278}

CHAPTER XIX

THE ABDICATION EDICT

HANKOW, HUPEH, CHINA, February 13, 1912.

Half an hour ago I was handed a facsimile of the greatest Edict that
has ever been issued in the Chinese Empire.  It will become known as
the Abdication Edict.


    The following is a full text of the Edict which has become known
    as the Abdication Edict.  As intimated in recent dispatches
    concerning the terms agreed upon, it became apparent that there
    was to be no complete abdication.  The Emperor was simply to
    relinquish all political power, a new provisional Government was
    to take charge, which in turn was to be succeeded by a regular
    Government to be named by a National Convention.  The Edict
    reads:--

    "Since the uprising in Wuchang the Throne has complied with the
    people's request and promulgated nineteen articles of
    constitution, vesting in the Ministers of State all
    administrative powers in which the subjects may take part, and
    that members of the Imperial family should not interfere in
    political affairs.  Subsequently an edict was issued calling a
    national convention to decide publicly on the government system,
    thus to show Our intention not to regard the Throne in a selfish
    spirit.  The gentry and the people in the different provinces,
    however, opine that the situation is pressing, and that if the
    holding of a national convention is delayed, it is feared that
    disasters of war may be prolonged and the situation will not be
    saved.  In addition, foreign troubles are threatening and new
    dangers appear daily, and in the present circumstances the
    nineteen articles of constitution are not entirely suited to
    conditions.

    "The authority of the Premier especially is insufficient to rule
    the whole country from within, or to superintend foreign
    relations from without, and in order to adapt the government to
    exigencies, in which it is necessary to expect slight changes,
    the name of Premier {279} is hereby abrogated, and a President is
    created.  All political power shall be vested in control of the
    President, who is to be elected by the people.  But with the
    exception of resignation of all political powers, the majesty of
    the Emperor shall not be much different from what is set forth in
    the nineteen articles formerly adopted.  We have enquired this
    course of the Princes, nobles, officials and gentry in the
    provinces who are agreed in their views.  And it is becoming to
    comply with their request and let it be carried out according.

    "But rumours are widespread, and during our resignation from the
    political government, unless a united organ exists to control
    affairs it is feared that good order may not be maintained.  We
    hereby specially command Yuan Shih K'ai to act in conjunction
    with the officials and gentry of the north and the south and
    temporarily to form a provisional and united government to
    destroy the seeds of trouble.  Once the national convention has
    met and formally elected the President, the provisional
    government will be dissolved, so as to comply with public opinion
    and display full justice.  All our soldiers and people should
    know that in taking this step Our object is solely for the
    benefit of the State, the blessing of the people and to restore
    good order.  All affairs will remain as of old, and they should
    not listen to rumours and create confusion and disturbances.  It
    will thus be fortunate for the country as well as the general
    position."


    Having agreed to abdication in favour of a Republic, the
    Empress-Dowager issued a secret edict commanding Yuan Shih K'ai
    to prepare for the formation of a provisional Government and the
    drawing up of a preliminary scheme to carry it into effect.
    During January Yuan Shih K'ai had several conferences, with the
    result that the following scheme was organized:--

    ARTICLE 1 deals with the necessity of a provisional and united
    government after the Emperor's resignation from government to
    assume all powers in preserving the status quo and to control
    foreign affairs, and it will be dissolved after the national
    convention has elected a President.

    2. After resignation from power the Emperor shall remain in the
    Palace so as to preserve peace in the north.

    3. The President's residence shall be built in Peking, or the
    newly completed Regent's Palace may be converted into a
    presidential house.

    4. Owing to the depletion of the treasuries of the present and
    also the Nanking government since the revolution, while means
    should be devised for the southern provinces, provisions shall be
    made towards meeting administrative expenses in the northern
    provinces after the provisional government has been formed.

    {280}

    5. The northern and southern provinces should remove prejudices
    and assist the central united government and remit reasonable
    amounts of money to it to uphold the situation.  Contributions
    from provinces which have suffered greatly may be deferred.

    6. All official administrative officers in Peking shall remain in
    office, but owing to need of funds for the provisional government
    all salaries will be suspended for six months.

    7. During a few months the pay of the northern and southern
    troops will be provided and the officers will remain in office.

    8. When the provisional united government shall have been
    recognised by the foreign Powers, foreign relations shall be
    directly in charge of that government.

    9. When the government system has been determined all foreign
    loans and indemnities shall be paid when due and the provinces
    should continue to send their usual contributions.

    10. The Edict by which the Emperor surrenders the government
    shall be printed and copies promulgated throughout the country.
    An Edict will also be issued to the soldiery so as to acquaint
    them and prevent mutiny.


And before I commence this concluding chapter, there will be need to
explain that the date of writing is placed at its head because of the
rapidity with which changes are coming to the land and the people.
In a footnote will be seen the Edict referred to.  It stands alone
among all edicts that have ever been issued in China.  Of all
political documents this may be taken as that which will shake the
very centre of the world if it is carried into practical effect.  So
important is it that it were futile for one placed as the author is
in the centre of this Empire to endeavour to analyse just what it may
mean.  What this Imperial Republic of China--for this is what now has
come--will develop into only the future can show.  Not within the
power of any living man is it possible to-day to foretell.  As one
writes his pen tremulously travels lest telling what appears to-day
as unshakable fact will even before this volume is published turn
out, in this land of political elasticity, to be nothing but
absurdity.  But discarding altogether the cloak of the prophet, and
drawing his everyday deductions from everyday experience throughout
{281} out China's Revolution, one may now with confidence declare
unhesitatingly that this country will make international headway as
never before.

The Republic of China is now among the Powers of the world.

The Republicans of China, new-born into a life full of highest
promise to mankind, now have free way.  In them, if they are wise and
good, as wise and good as we believe them anxious to be, we shall
soon see on the horizon of the East a nation whose power will be
ultimately predominant on the earth, upon whose integrity will
undeniably depend the peace of the world.  And whilst, if the
Republicans rise to the best within them, if they are given foreign
support such as their unparalleled political conduct deserves, if
they are successful in keeping from their own ranks a dangerous
spirit of office-seeking and petty jealousy--in short, if they reach
to the zenith of the power that is expected of them by the West, they
will make their country, huge as it is, in perhaps less time than the
changing era took in Japan, the greatest Empire in the Far East.  As
I write the Powers, lynx-eyed as ever, are observing China.  During
the last four months China has been watched as no other nation was
ever watched, and she has rushed through her great national drama
with appalling speed.  She is breathless.  Nervously, with a
wonderful confidence coming from her newly won emancipation, China is
looking questioningly to the West.  She knows that all the Powers are
closely scrutinising her every movement through political eyeglasses.
Having taken the plunge, she knows that they all expect her to break
finally from the furrows of the ages--she is almost out of her
national depths, and looks half-trustingly only to the Powers, lest
she should get out of her depths.  She knows that although not all
show to her an unmingled friendly attitude--for some would prey upon
her speedily, if left alone--it is her duty to herself to watch her
political horizon far away.  {282} The protest by the Chinese over
the Dynasty that has ruled over them for two and a half centuries has
been made in every part of China.  It is not confined to one or more
populous cities or provinces as at first was thought it would be, but
this protest against Manchu ascendancy has received approval wherever
the Chinese reside.  Never in the history of any revolution have the
people been more united in sentiment, or has established authority
more quickly admitted the justice of that sentiment than the one
which has now convulsed China from centre to circumference.  Charles
I. defended his crown on the battlefield, and yielded only to the
genius of Cromwell.  Louis XVI. thought to conciliate his political
foes by concessions of so humiliating a nature as to forfeit national
respect.  Both of these kings lost their heads on a scaffold, the one
by his hypocrisy, the other by his weakness.  Thus far the
Revolutionists throughout the country have manifested no barbaric
desire for blood.  There have been some disgusting acts of brutality
in connection with the execution of their enemies.  Often have they
cut out the hearts and livers of their enemy and, devouring these
human organs, and often drinking the human blood, have thought they
have added to their bravery.  But this sort of thing has been only on
a very comparatively small scale.  Generally speaking, their
behaviour has been good.  In the highest degree were they to be
commended for their respect for personal safety and property, and the
proclamations of their leaders--General Li, Wu Ting Fang, Sun
Yat-sen, and others like-minded--had been worthy of the great end
they professed to have in view.  The United States declared war
against Spain because of cruelties to the inhabitants of Cuba, but
the burning of Hankow and reported butcheries at Nanking and other
places belittle in their inhuman crimes any practised by Spanish
soldiers on Cubans.  But these things were the forerunners of the
Republic {283} of China, and now that Republic has been won.  The
leaders are now more confident than ever of the good days coming.

Lest one should be led to condemn the confidence shown by her leaders
and the makers of the Republic, however, we must remember that into
the most populous nation of the world reform had come in four months
which came to other countries who fought for their liberty only after
years of fearful war.  We are inclined, perhaps, we who expect more
from the Chinese than perhaps we ourselves are capable of, to
ridicule the efforts of this Republican Party, and to believe that
all going on around us is a mere political make-believe.  We are
inclined, perhaps, almost totally to discount the ability of the
members of the Republican party, men who, for the most part, have
risen from the mediocrity of the nation.  And I confess myself to
have been during these months of active war among the number who
pessimistically looked out upon a changing China.  But, now that the
critical days of the Revolution are passed, even the most cautious
European in China--I mean cautious in regard to snatching at
political straws which float down the stream of Chinese national
life--even he must, if he be unbiased, acknowledge that history can
show us no parallel to what is daily going on around us.

I am perfectly aware that many of the ambitions of the Republican
party as it now is are at present unrealisable.  I know that many of
the old-time practices and corruptions against which their leaders so
vehemently proclaimed will in the very nature of things be found
necessary to continue.  I cannot, however, discount the extreme
sincerity of the main leaders, men who with no other motive than that
of benefiting their fellow-nationals, are prepared to work hard and
unostentatiously for the permanent good of their country.  These are
the real reformers.  Many of them for years have been China's real
reformers, but their {284} light has been under the national bushel.
About them little has been known, and as often as not they have been
despised as a dangerous faction in the country.  In the press they
have been cried down.  The Manchu Government have been hunting them
to do them to death--the leaders, at all events.  There have been
thousands of smaller men, however, sent abroad to light the fuse; but
all of them have had their lights under the national bushel.  It has
come, in the main, in the march of education, and this morning,
looking back over the years, it is a wonderful thing to be able to
have in this document the product of the toiling of years of China's
enlightened educated sons.

Since the Reform Edict of 1898 more articles have appeared in both
the English and Chinese Press in China upon the subject of education
than upon any other.  To laud and to praise education has been the
fashion--innumerable sticks of incense have been lit and set up to
education in China.  Education, however, was the means of winning the
Revolution, and now the educated men are to have full sway.  To them,
as never before, the country is looking for right guidance: China has
always looked to her scholars for guidance, but this is a new kind of
scholar, with a new kind of learning.

And education, as has been pointed out by a writer on Chinese
affairs, is a kind of tree which bears two manners of fruit--good and
evil.  It is a kind of petrol which may drive the individual or the
State at a spanking pace along the path of progress, or it may
explode with disastrous results to the car and all on board.  The
general discontent which prevails in so many of the leading nations
may be traced directly to the wider spread of education.  The
industrial classes in the present day are better paid, better fed,
better clad, better housed, and work shorter hours than ever before,
but through education their aspirations for still more favourable
conditions have been tenfold increased, and {285} their efforts to
obtain them are becoming always more and more determined.

"We asked a leading Revolutionist the other day," said the writer
quoted, "where the new men who are being sent to all the inland
cities as magistrates came from.  We supposed they were mostly men of
the old magistrate class who were being reappointed, but he said
'no.'  The bulk of them were young men who had received a modern
education and who on examination proved themselves most fit.  But for
them, he said, there would have been no Revolution.  Some had been
educated at the expense of the Central Government, some by the
provinces, and many at their own expense, but all with a view to
obtaining official employment afterwards.  This they failed to get,
as the offices were only open to those who could afford to purchase
them, so they determined to take them, and they have done it.  It was
not that they desired the spoils of office, but, like Napoleon, they
felt that the tools should go to the workmen, and that they could
serve their country better than the Manchus and Money Bags whom they
wished to supersede."

Education has thus proved in China to be another name for revolution,
and revolution means reform.  The chance of the reformers has now
come: we must wait for their reforms.  Now is not the time to tell
each other whether we shall see all that we may expect to see--that
time will come in due course.  But we know that whilst they have had
their lights under this national bushel, the real reformers have
succeeded in bringing the word "reform" to every one's lips in China.
The assertion is made in a broad sense.  During the past decade and a
half every one has been adjuring some one else to reform, and each
seemed to be pointing out the true way.  This was the result of the
working of the reformers, who were there toiling away under greatest
odds and at some risk to their own lives, but who now have full power
in the land.  But {286} what is the genius of any reform, and what
are the elements which ensure its success?  The celebrated German
philosopher, winner of the Nobel prize, Professor Eucken, writes:
"The kernel of reform usually consists in the establishment of an
essential, original and natural foundation, entailing the elimination
of a network of artificialities, superfluities, and complications."
This is true when we glance at the reformers of olden times who in
turn harked back to a simpler state when elemental principles stood
out more distinctly.  Confucius and Mencius, as all Chinese students
are aware, referred constantly to the three great kings when the
rulers desired only the good of the people.  The American people,
when rebelling against the oppression of Great Britain, sought to
restore the status of citizenship as it was supposed to be in the
Mother Country.  They fought for old-time Saxon freedom.  Then came
their reforms.

And so with the Chinese now.  First, they must get the essential,
original, and natural foundations--of liberty and justice.  To plant
in China ideas and manners and customs and things, however, which for
centuries have held good in the West will not make in China for the
best the people are capable of.  They will be alien.  To give to the
Chinese an education only along lines laid down in the West as the
best for men in the West would not guarantee the best being drawn out
of the Chinese.  There must be a commingling of the best the West has
to offer with that which has been proved best for China unquestioned
through the centuries of her wonderful history.  It may or may not be
a mistake of modern educationists to pound away only with Western
subjects in educating the Chinese, not only not giving any heed to
the preservation of the good in Chinese education, but openly
dissuading its continuance.  This I consider to be one of the weak
points in the Republican propaganda--the excessive out-reaching for
Western education at the {287} expense of all that really matters in
the Chinese national life.  The Republican outlook is everywhere
filled with all things foreign.  Every Revolutionist had shown that
he must have a foreign outlook--and that, perhaps, in time to come
may develop to be an outlook totally unsuited to China's teeming
millions.

So far as the leaders have gone, however, they have made no great
mistakes.  The reformers, at all events, are now given the chance to
show what they can do.  If they are earnest in the declaration in
favour of a Republic, the United States would seem the proper model,
_mutatis mutandis_, to be copied.  As the Emperor has been proved
powerless to hold in subjection the provinces of the Empire, there is
a similarity between them and the American colonies when the latter
separated from the British Government to establish one of their own.

But whatever their pattern, it will be no easy matter practically to
work out immediate reforms in this country--that they will be able to
keep to any one plan, however, seems hardly possible.




{288}

CHAPTER XX

THE OUTLOOK FOR REFORM

And in the political whirl at present it is impossible to foretell
what will be the aim of the Republican party.

As it stands now, however, their aim is not merely to overthrow the
despised Manchu Dynasty and to restore China's former glory.  It may
be said, in a word, that the republican ideal of China is the right
of world citizenship for the nation.  Dr. Wu Ting Fang, in his
masterly address to foreigners, said: "We are fighting to be men in
the world; we are fighting to pass off an oppressive, officious, and
tyrannous rule that has beggared and disgraced China, obstructed and
defied the foreign nations, and set back the hands of the clock of
the world."

It will have been seen in this volume--and, indeed, no student of
Chinese affairs will need to be told--that the nature and extent of
the preparations which the progressive Chinese have been carrying on
during the last twenty years are simply astounding.  They assuredly
are.  China, equally as she has been immovable for so many centuries,
has shown us that now it is not a question of getting her to move so
much as keeping her from moving too quickly.

But, on the other hand, I have been in some parts of interior China
where not a single sign of reform in the common life is noticeable.
Behind in the village, however, there has invariably been found one
or two of {289} the scholarly men who have taken into their being a
certain spirit of reform despite the fact that they could not work
out the Utopian era which had been promulgated in the revolutionary
literature they had been reading and with which the country has for
many years been flooded.  The time now has come when these floodgates
may be opened.  In a considerable amount of travel in various parts
of China I have often been struck with these Revolutionaries, who
appeared, under the then prevailing conditions of government,
misguided fanatics.  It was because of the restraint placed upon them
by the Manchu officials that they were slow in openly pursuing their
revolutionary tactics and working out the reforms which their party
were constantly agitating.  In another work on China, published just
six days before the Revolution broke out,[1] the author in a
concluding note wrote the following: "I had come to see how far the
modern spirit had penetrated into the recesses of the Chinese
Empire....  One must begin again, no matter how dimly, to perceive
something of the causes which are at work.  By the incoming of the
European to inland China a transformation is being wrought, not the
natural growth of a gradual evolution, itself the result of
propulsion from within, but produced, on the contrary, by artificial
means, in bitter conflict with inherent instincts, inherited
traditions, innate tendencies, characteristics, and genius, racial
and individual.  In the eyes of the Chinese of the old school these
changes in the habits of life infinitely old are improving nothing
and ruining much--all is empty, vapid, useless to God and to man.
The tawdry shell, the valueless husk of ancient Chinese life is here
still, remains untouched in many places; but the soul within is
steadily and surely, if slowly, undergoing a process of final
atrophy.  But yet the proper opening up of the country by internal
reform and not {290} by external pressure has as yet hardly commenced
in immense areas of the Empire far removed from the Imperial city of
Peking....  I cannot but admit that whilst in most parts of my
journey there are distinct traces of reform--I speak, of course, of
the outlying parts of China--and some very striking traces, too, and
a real longing on the part of far-seeing officials to escape from a
humiliating international position, it is distinctly apparent that in
everything which concerns Europe and the Western world the people and
the officials as a whole are of one mind in the methods of
procrastination which are so dear to the heart of the Celestial, and
that peculiar opposition to Europeanism which has marked the real
East since the beginning of modern history."

To a large extent were I to go to the places where I formed the above
opinion I should probably be inclined to write to-day the same
opinion--perhaps with one point of difference: that point of
difference would be worked out by the noticeable presence of the
to-day ubiquitous Revolutionary.  He was there before, working
silently; to-day he is working openly and without fear of
decapitation.  And if, standing afar off, we are able to look out
across China, if we are able to see a beaconlight of revolutionism
(which means reform) and are able to estimate rightly the enormous
difference in national opinion which they in their teaching are
constantly bringing about, and if we are able also to look into the
future and imagine a China concentrated towards one final end of
resultant progress, assuredly we shall find a nation great in power
as she is now in numbers.

But shall we?  The reader for himself must answer the question.
Would that I could without hesitancy declare that we shall.  I hope
that we shall; but never, to attain this end, did a nation require
more careful steering.

One cannot conclude this volume, however, without {291} expressing
the hope that the Chinese will not prove themselves their greatest
enemy.  Admiring their many admirable traits of national character,
willing to sacrifice much to uplift them in the truest sense, there
is many a man in China to-day who cannot but see that in the
overbearing attitude of the younger generation is there a great
danger to the common weal.  China needs strong men: her strong men,
many of them young, enthusiastic, inexperienced in great things they
now have in hand, need to remain strong, they need to recognise Truth
first and last.  The responsibility of remoulding the national
character of a quarter of the human race remains with them.  They can
only do this by adhering to Truth and to right principles.  If they
do, they will go from height to height in national reform and
progress of the greatest good.  Without it, they will fall and be
lost.  China's end will then be nearer.[2]



[1] "Across China on Foot: Life in the Interior and Reform Movement."
J. W. Arrowsmith, Ltd.  16s. net.

[2] The following is a newspaper interview with Mrs. T. C. White, the
Princess Der Ling:--

"'What are the causes of the downfall of the Manchu Dynasty?'

"'That is a long story.  This thing was expected long ago.  Of course
a lot of people in Peking didn't know anything about it, but we
did--our family.  My father did, at least, since the China-Japanese
war.  He said: "Within ten or fifteen years there is going to be a
revolution in China, and that will be the end of the Manchus.  In
case they reform the country right away, it may be all right.  But
otherwise they will be finished by that time."  At that time they
didn't want it.  We tried our best to reform the Court in lots of
things.  The Empress-Dowager--at that time she ruled--hated reform.
She was very conservative.  She wouldn't have reform as long as she
lived, but, of course, we hoped that in case of her death the Emperor
Kwang Hsu would reign.  He would have been for reform; but we knew he
probably wouldn't live through; he would die before her.  That Court
is so mysterious in every way--it takes too long to tell.

"'China has been an old, conservative country for so many years.
They kept up the old style and of course the old generations like it
because it is to their advantage.  Just now the young people who have
been abroad and educated want the Western civilisation and freedom.
If they did not see anything better they would not know.  But they
begin to see how nice it is in America and how hard life is in their
{292} country, and I do not blame them for causing the Revolution.  I
would myself.  I hate the old customs.  But our family was one of the
first progressive families.  In fact, I should say probably there are
very few like us among the Manchu families.

"'My father wanted reform.  I remember hearing him talk about it ever
since I was four or five years old.  The first thing he wanted us to
study was English.  We were living at Shasi on the Yangtze River, and
afterwards at Hankow, and he sent us to the missionary school.  All
his friends protested against it and said he was progressive, and
wanted to sell his country to the foreign people, that was why he
wanted his children to have a foreign education.  The people called
him at that time "a rebel."  He was very progressive.  It didn't
bother him a bit.  He wanted us to study and we did.

"'The Government was not fair.  It was all for itself.  It didn't
have good ministers.  The heads of different Boards in Peking were
corrupt.  First the Empress-Dowager, when she was alive--just as she
did--everybody did.  They squeezed.  Every position was bought in
China, every official position--all the Viceroys and Taotais.  It was
like this.  If you are the Prime Minister I come to you with so much
money and want this job.  You say "All right."  You take the money
from me and another person gives a little more and you accept my
money just the same, and his too.  They left the good men without
jobs, and put in the crooked people.  That is the reason of the
Revolution.  They wanted to be treated fairly.  Everybody has an
opportunity or should have, but so long as the Manchu rules, the
Regent rules--in fact, no one can get a chance except those who pay
their money.'

"'Why are the Manchu princes and high officials so inefficient?'

"'The Manchus do not want to study.  They are so grand, they lose
their heads--they think they are, any way.  The old Manchus were not
like that--that is, the Manchus got bad about eighty years ago.
Before that they were all capable men and fair in their judgment.
They do not want to know anything at all now; they are so conceited,
and you cannot talk to them.'

"'What is the chief source of their inefficiency--does it lie in
their characters, training, or habits?'

"'Training, of course.  Everybody praises them, you see.  All they
want is pleasure.  The young princes in the Royal family think only
of pleasure.  The Regent did not want to study when he was a boy, nor
his brothers.  His father used to be very furious, but, of course,
his mother took his part, and instead of sending him to school she
sent him to play.  Another thing, of course, the Regent himself is
weak-minded.  He has not any character at all.  I say this from
personal experience.  I have talked many times with him.'

"'How are they brought up in the palace and what is the influence of
this upon their views about government?'

[Illustration: WHAT REMAINS OF HANKOW'S MAIN RIVER GATEWAY.  The
scene of the Revolutionists' last stand in Hankow.  The ruins above
are part of the Temple of the Dragon King.]

{293}

"'That is the great mistake in China, the way the Emperor is brought
up.  The late Emperor Kwang Hsu deserved a lot of credit.  He was
brought up in the Forbidden City so exclusively that he could not see
anybody who had any education at all, and played all day long with
the eunuchs.  The eunuchs are of the commonest people in China.  In
that way the Emperor could not have any chance to talk to people with
experience so he could make a good governor.  But Emperor Kwang Hsu
was brought up that way and still had the idea of reform and I think
he deserved a lot of credit.  The Manchu law is very strict that
children have to be polite to their parents' servants, so the little
Emperor must be polite to the eunuchs; otherwise they could report to
the Empress-Dowager.  That is a very bad custom.  If this little
Emperor is brought up that way, he will not amount to anything.  The
present Empress-Dowager is a very nice woman.  She, of course, has
some Chinese education.  That would have been all right some years
ago, but we want something new now, something different.  There is no
use to stick to the old books written thousands of years ago.  We
want new civilisation now.  Of course they had the idea at that time
to shut the door and shut out all foreigners so they could not bother
us.  They cannot do that now; we must have something new.'

"'Will you be kind enough to trace and describe the influence of the
Empress-Dowager at the Court, and tell why this personage cuts such
an important figure.'

"'That is according to the Manchu law.  If the Emperor is young and
she rules for him, she has all the power.  He is only the figurehead.
Even if she retires, like the old Empress-Dowager did, the Emperor
has to go to her and consult with her regarding the affairs.  The
outside world thought the Edicts were from the Emperor, but really
they were from her.  In case of something important he had to go to
the Summer Palace and ask her questions.  The late Empress-Dowager
wanted power.  She is the only famous Empress-Dowager in the history
of the Manchu Dynasty.  The present one does not care.  She knows she
cannot run those things and she does not care.'

"'What kind of a woman is the present Empress Dowager?'

"'She is a mild, quiet, unobtrusive person, rather indifferent.  She
knows very well that she cannot compare with her aunt, the late
Empress-Dowager.'

"'What part is she likely to play if the infant Emperor remains upon
the throne under a Constitutional Government and Chinese Regency?

"'Talking from a personal point of view, she would rather retire and
be quiet.  Some things happened while I was at the palace and we
would ask her opinion.  She would say: "I don't want to say anything
because I do not think it is right."  She would say: "I am not
capable of telling you and cannot say anything at all."  She does not
want to run the Government at all.  This I am sure of.  The only
thing she {294} wants is peace.  She certainly has suffered all her
life.  Although she was her niece, the old Empress treated her in a
very mean way.'

"'Has she any real power?'

"'No.  But she doesn't want any.  We were talking one day about
different things.  During one of the Audiences the Old
Empress-Dowager told her to take the foreign ladies to the
refreshments.  After this audience was over I asked her how she would
like to act in the Empress-Dowager's place after the
Empress-Dowager's death.  And she said to me: "It depends on
circumstances.  If I am the Empress of China, I would, but not as the
Empress-Dowager."  That is, if her husband was Emperor and she
Empress.  "If I had a son I would have to depend on him.  I have no
son, and if that was the case, I would have to adopt one and it would
be the same thing as the Empress-Dowager and Kwang Hsu.'

"'Will you please describe the personality and character of the
ex-Regent and his brothers.'

"'Ex-Regent Tsai Feng; he is a very stupid man--a weak-minded
man--very conservative.  No one can talk reform to him.  Some one did
try it once just for fun and he said: "Our ancestors did not do that
and I do not see why we should."  Of course he favours the
Conservative party.  His two brothers are not like that.  They have
both been abroad, in Europe and America too.  But of course they are
not so overloaded with brains either.  They are the three I mentioned
a while ago as being so poor.  All they want, these two brothers, is
pleasure.  There is one thing I want to say; when I was abroad a
young Prince, Tsai Chen--came over to King Edward's coronation.
Passing through Paris he came to see us.  I was very much surprised.
At that time there were very few progressive people.  Four months
after, I returned to Peking and found him just the other way and the
same case with the two brothers of the ex-Regent.  When they were
abroad they got their heads full of reform for China, and of making
China like Europe and America, and as soon as they got back to China
they were satisfied with the way the people live.  I was much
surprised.  I asked him once what was the matter.  He said: "We have
to live in this country and be that way and must be satisfied with
it."'

"'Who is, then, the real power among the Manchu nobility?'

"'That depends now.  Just now no one has power.  It was supposed to
be the ex-Regent because he was the head.'

"'Are the Manchus capable of regeneration?'

"'I doubt it.  They don't want it.  In fact, both my mother and
myself did all that we really dared to bring the Empress-Dowager
around to our viewpoint on the question of reform.  The fact of our
being able to speak more languages than our own naturally made the
people in and out of the Court both jealous and suspicious of us.
They were sure that we were trying to influence the old
Empress-Dowager to {295} adopt some of the foreign ideas that we had
accumulated during our stay abroad, and one particularly good (?)
friend of ours, Prince Na Yung, told everybody that my mother was a
woman Kang Yu-wei.

"'One thing: they must bring up Manchu babies a different way and
send them abroad.  Then probably there would be some hope.  This
younger generation, like the ex-Regent, have common blood in them.
The mother of the Prince Regent and the two brothers was a concubine
of Prince Chung, the ex-Regent's father.  And this woman was a
slave-girl.  She had no education.  Prince Chung died and left the
boys very young and they, of course, had no opportunity.  They have
their mother's blood and they are just like their mother.  That
generation all descends from concubines.

"My idea is, as long as the Chinese will have concubines they will
not progress.  It is common blood.  My idea is that the first reform
should be the abolishment of the concubine business.  Let us say some
officials have daughters.  They do not wish their daughters to be
concubines; they must be proper wives, so the concubines must be
slaves or bad women.  Now how can they bear fine sons?  Their blood
is common.  One thing, however: the Imperial concubines are selected
from the Manchu officials' daughters--the daughters from the first
and second rank, not lower than that.  They consider themselves just
like slaves.  It is an awful life.  The late Empress-Dowager was a
concubine.  She was selected when she was seventeen years old.  She
had a son and gained power that way.  Her son was Emperor Tung Chih,
who died when he was nineteen.  I know the girlhood of the old
Empress, and some day I will write it.  She suffered terribly after
she went to the Court.'

"'What are the first things to be done in China to institute real
reform?'

"'Starting with the family, the very first reform which should be
instituted is to do away with the secondary wives.  The next
important if not the most important, is an entire regeneration of the
official system.  It is a well-known fact that the Government loses
three-fourths of the revenue it is entitled to through the official
system of squeeze, and by diverting the squeeze which now goes into
the pockets of officials to that of the Government's pocket will
immediately place the Government in the position of having sufficient
funds to carry through other reforms they have in mind.  The next is
the putting of China's finances on either a silver or gold basis,
whichever may be thought best for the country, and having an
universal coinage system, thereby doing away with the enormous losses
to the business people of China by way of continual internal
exchange.'

"'Do you think the baby Emperor can be raised to be a capable
sovereign for the nation?'

"'That depends upon the way that they bring him up.  If they bring
{296} him up as they did the old Emperor in the palace and no one to
see him, the eunuchs to keep him company, he will be the same as any
other Emperor--he will not know anything.'

"'What sort of education and surroundings should he have?'

"'Well, you have to start from childhood to train his mind.  They are
so narrow-minded, those people at the Court.  These eunuchs, to gain
favour from the Empress-Dowager, praised the late Emperor, no matter
what he did, and spoiled him.  Raise this one as an ordinary little
boy--a simple education to start with.  He has the idea that he will
be the Emperor, and praised by these people, he will get conceited,
The present Emperor is now five years old; his Chinese age is six.  I
am very much afraid for this little boy.  I will tell you why--his
mother is so common.  His mother's father was all right; he was a big
Manchu official; but his mother's mother was a slave-girl bought from
Yangchow, and that gives bad blood to his mother, the ex-Regent's
wife.  Of course, we talk "blood" a good deal, but if he is brought
up among these people--the family do not know anything--he cannot
gain very much.  They are all so ignorant.'

"'What part will the Manchus of all kinds play in China under a
Constitutional or Republican Government?'

"'Maybe many people will not agree with me, but I know.  The
Republican party is so strong; the Manchus will go somewhere and just
keep quiet.  They haven't the nerve to fight; they will go.  Who
wants to protest against this thing?  It is supposed to be the
ex-Regent and his two brothers.  They make so much noise but do not
dare to do anything.  There is no strong character in the family.
They are all great cowards.  That is why I doubt about the little
Emperor.'

"'What kind of Government do you think is better for the present?"

"'My idea is certainly not a Republic.  I prefer a sort of Limited
Monarchy--a Constitutional Monarchy--for the present.  The only
objection I would have to a Republic is that there are so many
parties--so many provinces.  They are all together now, but after
they get what they want they will split and fight against each other.
That is the character of the Chinese.  By and by after the people,
the younger generation, are all educated, the time will be ripe for a
Republic.'

"'Will you kindly give me the genealogy of the baby Emperor, showing
what part of Chinese blood he has.'

"'He is the son of the ex-Regent.  The ex-Regent is half Chinese,
because his mother was not a Manchu.  The little Emperor's mother is
about three-fourths Chinese; the little Emperor's mother's mother was
full Chinese; her father was half Chinese.  So that would make her
three-quarters.  So the little Emperor has more Chinese blood in him
than Manchu blood.  The blood has been mixed terribly the last forty
years or so, because they all bought concubines.  {297} The
ex-Regent's brother was the Emperor Kwang Hsu.  He was the only son
of the proper wife of Prince Chung, the late Empress Dowager's
sister.'

"'Has Yuan Shih K'ai any reason to love the Manchus?'

"'No.  I do not say he loves the Manchus.  He is a very smart man and
he sees the situation.  He knows what is best for the country.  I
cannot say he loves the Manchus, although he was the late
Empress-Dowager's favourite.  She always trusted him.  She could see
that he was a capable man.  The late Emperor wanted reform, but did
not know how to go at it.  Yuan Shih K'ai knows how to go about it;
he is one of the progressive men.'

"'If the Monarchy is retained, what reforms should be made in the
social life of the Court?'

"'They are not trying for such a purpose.  The Empress-Dowager should
take lessons.  She is a fairly well-informed woman.  She has read
some of the foreign histories translated into the Chinese.  She is
willing to learn and to bring up the Emperor.  My idea is to bring
him up like a foreigner.  You see, in China they do not teach the
Emperor to love his people and his country.  They do not do that.  My
idea is to teach him to love his people and his country, and make him
know that he is responsible for this great nation and that he must do
justice to everybody.  Of course, that is a hard thing, but it is as
should be.  Teach him his duty to his people.  Then it depends much
upon the sort of wife he marries.  I begin to think there is not a
suitable girl to marry him.  He has to marry a Manchu, and the Manchu
girls have no education.  Any Manchu girl would be out of place as
Empress.  My idea is that no matter how they change they must keep
their little old-fashioned law.  They cannot remove that at once.  I
know Manchus who lived in America for years and they even after that
thought that the customs in their own country were best.  How can
they think that?  I am a Manchu, and see things in a different light,
and have since I was ten or twelve years old.  I made up my mind then
that I would not be under anybody.  My father always said to me, "You
are just as good as anybody."

"'The Court is so different from any other Court.  The people are not
used to those things, it will take time.  First of all they must have
proper Court ladies.  Those princesses do not know anything.  All
they want is power--they do not know how to use it.  What can they do
with power?  Any Court ladies with education will not want to stay
with these ignorant women.  They would have to fight all the time.
My life was not at all sweet whilst I was there.  The Government is
just the same as a Chinese family.  There is so much nonsense going
on.  Now these poor girls, they are brought up in the old way, and of
course they are satisfied because they know no better, and when they
marry they go over to their husband's family and get treated badly by
{298} their mother-in-law.  You see, the Chinese teaching is so
different; it always teaches a woman to be patient.  And of course,
in the case of a Chinese whom the parents send abroad, when she comes
back she is a changed girl, and her mother does not like it.  She
will not listen to her mother's nonsense.  Some silly little things
they do in the family; they made the Chinese conservative party
against the progressive.  My friends are like that--the poor girls
just suffer.  I wish they had not had foreign education.'"




{299}

INDEX


Abdication Edict, the (278-87), text, 278-80

Admiralty, inconvenient regulations of, 123

Anti-foreign feeling, 14; reversal of, 43; see Boxer

Artillery, in action, 64-5, 68-9, 71-2, 74, 98

Awakening of China, 273-4



Boxer rising, 209; due to enmity of North and South, 268; directed
against Manchus, yet exploited by the Dowager-Empress, 271-2;
collapse of, 272-3

British authorities, weakness of, 119; letter to Consul, 122-3

British Concession, under fire, 108

British trade in China, 25-8



Cantlie, Dr., and the rescue of Sun Yat-sen from the Chinese
Legation, 208-09

Canton, outbreak at, 16; conspiracy of 1895, 202-07

Cartoons, anti-foreign, 241

Cecil, Lord William, 30-2

_Central China Post_ on Manchu Dynasty, 260-2

Chang Piao, General, 55, 58; interview with, 61-2; surrenders
Nanking, 156-7

Cheng-tu, siege of, 241

Cheo, execution of, 277

China, extent of, 13

"China Under the Empress-Dowager," by Bland and Backhouse, 268

_China Press_, the, 159; on Republic or Monarchy, 196-200, 230

Chinese, future of the, 19, 291

Christianity in China, 30-1; future of, 43

Chwang-Lieh-ti, Emperor, hangs himself (1644), 259

Civil Service, the Chinese, 262

Clothing trade, the, 22

Concessions, position of the, 118

Concubinism, dangers of, 295

Confucianism, 43

Constitutional Monarchy, reasons in favour of, 143, 296

Constitutional Provisional Republic, the, 214-20

Corruption of Manchu Government, 18

_Coup d'état_ of 1898, 271

Courage of Chinese troops, 111

Court, Chinese, the, 297

Courts of Justice, Republican, 219

Cruelty of Imperialist troops, 140-2



Der Ling, Princess, on causes of Reform, 291-8

Dragon, the, 244



Edict, the famous Revolutionary, of General Li, 276; its provisions
carried out, 277

Education, the new, 284-5

Emperor, of China, 31; the child, 295-6

Empress-Dowager, the, 226-32; diverts the Boxers from their original
aim, 271, 274, 291-7

Eucken, Professor, on Reform, 286

Extortion by torture, 203-04; under the Manchus, 261



Fleet, Imperial, at Hanyang, 69, 71

Foreign Concessions, at Hanyang, 72, 119-21

Foreign intervention not desired, 265-6

Foreign Loans, 44; feeling against, 238

French, at Hankow, ask for troops, 118, 121; wish to annex Yunnan, 259



German trade in China, 25-8

Gordon, General ("Chinese"), in the Taiping Rebellion, 195, 265



_Hai Yung_, 112; Chinese cruiser, in action, 114-15

Hankow, 44; premature outbreak in the Russian Concession, 49-50; 53;
the Revolution commences in, 54, 58; the burning of, 81-7; looting
of, 85; ruin of, 267

Hanyang, the arsenal taken, 57-58, 87; threatened with a second
bombardment, 96-8; second battle of, 107-08; final bombardment of,
125-32; fall of, through treachery, 144; 154

Hanyang Hill, captured, 147

Hat trade, captured by Japanese enterprise, 22

_Helena_, U.S.A. launch, 58

Hokwan, peculates twenty-six million sterling, 261

Hsi-fan tribes, 251

Hsuan Tung, H.I.M., 227

Hsu-Ching-cheng, executed for saving Europeans, 271

Hu Ying, Revolutionary delegate to the Peace Conference, 177-84

Hunan, troops from, fate of deserters, 143; refuse to fight, 148

Hung Siu-tsuan, 263

Hupeh, army of, 47-8, 58, 117

Hwei-ti, Emperor, revolution in days of, 257



Imperial Edict, the, 90-1, 153

Imperialists, at Hanyang, 34, 62, 64; victorious, 67; 71; courage of,
71-2; 73; massacre of refugees from Hankow, 85-6; brutal behaviour
of, 88; surround Hankow, 107; attack Hanyang, 128; cruelty of,
138-41; 145-6



Japan, war with, 15; her trade with China, 24-5, 28; revolution in,
130; victory over China, 273

Jung Lu, to be beheaded, 224; 269, 271



Kaifeng, drowned out by Li-Tsi-cheng in 1642, 258

Keen-lung, great Manchu Emperor, 260-2

Kilometre Ten, Battle of, 68-72

Knepper, Captain, 58

_Kung Ching_, the, 52

Kwang Lu, Emperor, in his Valedictory, hopes Yuan will be beheaded,
227; 293-4



Lee, Homer, General of Reform Cadets, 210

Li Tsi-cheng, ends the Ming Dynasty, 258; turns the Yellow River into
the city of Kaifeng (1642), 258; proclaims himself Emperor, 259; his
fall, 259, 273

Li Yuan Hung, statement by, 33-5; interview with, 37-45; details of
life, 45-6; loth to lead the Revolutionists, 47; 55; his policy of
"sit tight," 73; his Edict, 89, 93-5; appeals to Yuan, 103; 107,
116-17; anxious to stop slaughter, 147; 149, 152; asks for an
armistice, 159; 164-5

Ling, General, takes Nanking, 158; desires peace, 170; 195; his
famous Edict, 276, 282

Liu King, 47; his story, 51-4

Liu King, Mrs., to throw a bomb, 53

Liu Yao-chen, 54

Loans, foreign, _literati_ object to, 238

Lolo tribes, the, 251

_London and China Express_, 122

London Mission Hospital, 85, 109



Macartney, Sir Halliday, and Sun Yat-sen's capture, 208

McFarlane, Rev. H. J., 78, 80

Machinery, belief that it takes away work and starves people, 238-9

Manchu Dynasty, shaken, 134; 153; objection to, 188; 192; on trial,
229; character of, 260; China under the, 261; universality of protest
against, 282; causes of downfall, 291

Manchus, 15; policy of, 17; corruption and tyranny of, 17-18, 103-4;
originally called in to revenge a rape, 259; character of, 294-5

Manifesto of the Revolution, 16-19

Marco Polo, 17

Medhurst, C. S., on claims of Republic and Monarchy, 196-200

Ming Dynasty, the last effort of, 194-5

Missionaries, massacres of, 272

Model army, the, 47, _see_ Imperialists

Mohammedan Rebellion, the, 267; apparently successful, 268;
suppressed, 268

Monopolies, Manchu, 17



Nanking, fall of, 39; news of fall, 155; account of, 156; Provisional
Republic proclaimed at, 210; fall of, in Taiping Rebellion, 264;
taken by Gordon, 245

Nanking, Treaty of, 263

National assembly, 215, 229-30

National Convention, 220

Nationalisation of Railways, cause of, Sze-Chuan rebellion, 235

Navy, the, 39

Nestorian tablet, 17

Nou-su tribes, 251

Northern army, the, 75, 97



"One Aim Society," the, 240

Outlawry, 14



Panthays, capture Yunnan, 267

"Patriotic Harmony Bands," _see_ Boxers

Patriotism, in China, 111, 270

Peace Conference, the, 185; disappointment follows, 196; "fizzles
out," 196

Pekin, Government, the, 15; strong position of, 189-91; disorders in
1912, 212-13; taken by Allies (1900), 272

_People, The_, 51-2

"Plum Blossom Fists," 269-70

Powers, European, ignorance of Chinese temper, 270

President of China, the, 39

Privileges, Manchu, 17

Provisional Military Association, the, 210

Provisional Republican Constitution, the, 214-20



Queue, cutting of the, 194



Railways, nationalisation of, 235-7; condition of Chinese, 237

Recognition of the Republic, 220

Redheads, in the Taiping rebellion, 265

Reform, Yuan paralyses, 224-5; 286-7; outlook for, 288-98; inland,
289-90

Reform Cadets, 210

Reform Edict, of 1898, 284

Regent, the, 134; resigns, 230-1

Republic, the, proclaimed, 16; recognition of the, 151; proclamation
by Dr. Wu Ting Fang, 151-2; difficulties in way of, 193; general
support of, 195; established as a world Power, 281; ideal of the, 288

Revolution of 1400, 257

Revolution of 1911-12,13; planned years ago, 15; causes of, 38;
outbreak of, 47-8; plans of, 53; movement abroad, 201; sincerity of
movement, 283

Revolutionary troops, at Hanyang, reversed, 65; courage of, 73;
excellent behaviour of, 89; confidence of, 117; good behaviour at
taking of Nanking, 159; general good behaviour of, 282

Run-chung-yung, 54



Sah, Admiral, 40, 62; at Hanyang, 71; his bluff, 72-3; appealed to by
students of Hanyang and Hankow, he is converted to Revolution, 100-1

Shanghai, Peace Conference of, 174-5, (185-200)

Shantung, goes over to the Revolutionists, 125

Sian-fu, Nestorian tablet of, 17; massacre of foreigners in, 165

Son of Heaven, ceremonial, 195

Students, influence of, 16

Suffrage, universal, proposed by Sun Yat-sen, 197

Sun Yat-sen, 15, 16, 40, 45, 51; arrives in Shanghai, 196; the coming
of, (201-22); character and adventures, 202; the Canton conspiracy,
202; captured in London, 207-8; swindled in Japan, 209; escapes to
Annam and returns to America, 210; proclaimed President at Nanking,
210; the price on his head, 211; studies medicine, 212; retires in
favour of Yuan, 213; his oath, 213; 282

Sun Wu, causes premature outbreak of revolution, 50, 53

Sze-Chuan, revolt of, against nationalisation of railways, 235;
slaughter in, 241; present disorder in, 241-2; tribal element in,
242, 245-6, 252



Ta Ts'ing Dynasty, 256

Taiping Rebellion, 195, 263-5, 267, 269, 273

Tang-Shao-yi, Yuan's delegate at the Peace Conference, 172-6, 186-7;
favours a Republic, 188; his powers repudiated by Yuan, 196

Tartars, reaction against the, 193-4

Tibet, Chinese policy in, 248-9

_Times_, editorial, 55-6; prophesies failure of Revolution, 155

Torpedo-boats at Wuchang, 113-14

Trade, restrictions of, 18; increase to be expected, 21-9

Tribes in Sze-Chuan, 245-6; their hatred of Chinese, 248, 251;
China's great weakness, 251

Tuan-Fang, Director-General of Railways, 236; his disgrace, 236;
reinstated, 236; killed by his men, 241; sketch of, 252-4; disgrace
of, 255; protects missions, 269



United States of America, action of, 155

United States of China, probable, 195

United Universities scheme, 275



Viceroy of Hankow, the, 54-5



Wang-change-hui, 186

Wang-Chao-naing, 186

Wang-Cheng-ting, 186

Ward, General, in the Taiping Rebellion, 265

Wen Tsang-yao, 185

White, Miss T. C. (Princess der Ling), 261

White Lily Society, 269

Winsloe, Rear-Admiral, 72, 123

Women soldiers, 53

Wong, Mr., 163

_Woodcock_, H.M.S., 109

Wounded at Hanyung, 131-3

Wu, General, 126

Wu San-Kwei, calls in the Manchus to avenge his mistress, 259

Wu Ting Fang, Dr., 40, 152, 173, 185, 187

Wuchang, outbreak at, 16, 33-4, 47, 72-3; stronghold of
Revolutionists, 92; fighting round, 98-100, 124; evacuation of,
167-9; modern army of, 224



Yakub Beg, leader of the Mohammedan Revolt, 267

Yangtze River, 189

Yen, Prince (Emperor Ch'eng-Tsu), his rebellion in A.D. 1400, 257

Yin Chang, General, 62

Young China Party, 242-3, 245

Yu Hsien, massacres missionaries, 272

Yuan-Ch'ang, executed for saving Europeans, 271

Yuan-Shih-Kai, 39-40, 75-7, 93; his letter to General Li, 94-5;
promises a Constitutional Government and abolition of the Manchu
princedoms, 95; his army, 97; Li's appeal to him, 103-06; 117-18,
125; his plea for a monarchy, 135; official statement, 159-61;
negotiations at the Peace Conference, 113-15; 190, 196; proclaimed
President, but loses hold in Pekin, 213; character-sketch of, 221-2;
"Yuan the Reformer," 223; forms the Model Army, 224; betrays the
Emperor, 225; the first man in China, 226; his fall, 227; recalled to
Pekin as Prime Minister, 228; to form a Reform Government, 229; in
favour of limited monarchy, 229, 233; an enigma, 234

Yunnan, Mohammedan rebellion in, 248, 267



UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED, THE GRESHAM PRESS, WOKING AND LONDON.











End of Project Gutenberg's China's Revolution 1911-1912, by Edwin J. Dingle