DIPLOMACY FAILS
“I guessed as much!” the pilot cried out, striding forward; the guards
timidly giving way before his menacing revolver. “These men are
Christian converts; it’s but a trick to make us lose face before this
rabble.”
He reached the side of the prisoners and raised one to his feet. Phil
watched with fascinated gaze as Langdon dragged forward excitedly
the chained and terrified men who had been plucked from death by the
timely and unerring shot of the American; there was something strangely
familiar in the ashen features of one of them.
“This man is a mess attendant from the ‘Phœnix!’” Langdon exclaimed,
pointing to the nearer of the two prisoners; “the trick was to execute
them before our eyes before we could interfere.”
Both Commander Hughes and Phil saw at once that the pilot was right;
there was the ward-room servant who had been missing since the day of
the gunboat’s arrival; he was a Chinaman from a distant province and
unable to speak the local dialect, and in consequence had been singled
out as a victim by the scheming officials.
The midshipman feared that all was lost; he could see no avenue of
escape; the viceroy’s attitude was certainly hostile, and how could
they, a mere handful of officers armed with only their revolvers, hope
to cope with the soldiers of the yamen, to say nothing of the hundreds
of thousands of fanatics inside the walled city? A single wave of that
treacherous hand would condemn them to a fate from which his soul
revolted; he had heard of the terrible deaths meted out to foreigners
by these semi-barbarians. The lad glanced anxiously at his companions;
he saw in their faces that they were determined to sell their lives as
dearly as possible, but the unequal struggle could have but one ending.
The naval men were standing together near the table; every eye was
upon the aged mandarin, sitting calmly, and to outward appearances, no
more concerned than if he were witnessing a play on the yamen stage;
Langdon remained beside the prisoners, and not far from the soldiers
stolidly waiting orders from their high chief.
The situation was impressive and one to unnerve the stoutest heart; a
false move, an ill-judged word, and those hundreds of modern rifles
might be turned against the defenseless officers. Phil knew that
nearly two thousand sailors were under arms on board the war-ships,
ready to be landed if the embassy had not returned to the jetty by
eleven o’clock; it was now ten-thirty by the great clock in the
council-chamber; but before the half hour had passed all would be
decided and the landing force would not be necessary. The midshipman
knew that Commander Hughes would not retract a single word uttered in
the conference, and that he would presently give out his ultimatum to
the viceroy, which would either be accepted or else more foreign blood
would be laid at the door of this cruel official, Chang-Li-Hun.
“Be careful, Langdon,” Commander Hughes said in a low voice, in which
no emotion was evident, although Phil could see the involuntary
twitching of his lips; “don’t throw a match into the magazine. Tell him
quietly that we have seen through his treachery and wish safe conduct
through his city back to our vessels; and insist that these prisoners
accompany us.”
Phil shook with excitement as the pilot steadied himself to give his
captain’s words to the viceroy; he understood thoroughly that this was
the only course open to the American commander if he wished to save
the hundreds of foreigners in the province from the insults and scorn
of the Chinese expulsionists, even though the result to him and his
colleagues was death. The lad’s mind dwelt for the fraction of a second
upon the terrible revenge that would be visited upon those responsible
for the killing of the members of the embassy; he thought of Canton and
Peking, and how the despised foreign soldiers had, with fire and sword,
brought home to the defilers of the sacred rights of ambassadors the
terrible consequences of their guilt; yet there was scant encouragement
for him in such recollections.
Langdon had given his captain’s ultimatum in a calm voice from which
all passion had been expunged, and now all waited with breath abated
for the words of the wizened old man, in whose hands the fate of so
many lives rested.
The viceroy at length stirred uneasily in his chair and turning to one
of his ministers uttered a few low gutturals. The spell was broken; a
harsh command rang out, and instantly the soldiers faced about, forcing
with set bayonets the disappointed populace through the outer gates,
which swung shut with a loud rattle behind them. Then the military,
gathering up the two lifeless bodies, sacrifices to the humor of a
viceroy, melted away in all directions, leaving the embassy once more
alone with the yamen officials.
The viceroy raised his teacup to his lips, a signal that the visit
was at an end, and then rising slowly, he bowed coldly, and attended
by his ministers withdrew from the room. In a few minutes the chairs
were brought and the embassy were only too glad to be gone from this
nerve-racking and fruitless council.
Langdon, with his usual energy, saw the liberated prisoners seated in
chairs in the midst of those of the foreigners and near his own, and
then stepped to the captain’s side to report that all was ready to
proceed.
“I don’t think we shall be molested,” he said hopefully; “it seems
plain that the viceroy will do nothing to stop the uprising, but it
appears he is afraid to openly defy you.” Then he raised his voice
admiringly: “Do you know, captain, that you’re the very first foreigner
to make Chang-Li-Hun lose face, and before a crowd of his own people
whom he had deliberately collected to witness your own discomfiture.
You gave us all a close call in doing it, sir; I could hardly believe
my ears when I heard you tell me to shoot the executioner, but there
wasn’t time to allow you to repeat it.”
The return to the jetty was well and safely guarded by hundreds of
well-armed soldiers and the crowds were handled so easily that the
foreigners could readily see that the episode of the morning was
prepared for them by the yamen officials. Commander Hughes realized
that the visit to the viceroy had given ample proof that whatever
injury was done to foreigners by the natives of the province could be
charged to the stand taken by the viceroy; and with this official
backing the hostile movement would spread to insurmountable proportions.
“Why the viceroy permitted us to take those Chinese prisoners I can’t
understand,” the pilot exclaimed to Phil, a half hour having passed
since the return of the embassy.
Phil was silent, but intensely interested. He had just seen the foreign
captains file into the cabin, unsummoned, eager to hear the result of
the mission to the viceroy.
“The two prisoners came to me immediately we got back to the ship,”
Langdon continued excitedly, “and told me of an attack to be made
to-night on the Inland Mission. They claim to have secured this
information from the Chinaman who was beheaded before our eyes; he was
a northern Chinaman, but could speak the local dialect. The soldiers,
knowing these men were to die, did not take the trouble to conceal
their plans. It seems that an army of outlaws have taken Lien-Chow for
their headquarters; it is a small town about seven miles from here on
the To-Yan Lake, and they intend to move in a body upon the mission.
These malcontents have been guaranteed aid from the viceroy, and if
the mission is captured, they hope to gather enough reënforcement to
allow them to march against the forts, and the result would be their
capture, for the soldiers there would not fire a shot against their own
countrymen. The guns of the forts will then be turned upon us and our
escape down the river will be cut off, for these vessels cannot face
heavy ordnance.”
“But why,” exclaimed Phil, after the pilot had finished, “should they
attack a guarded mission when there are so many others scattered over
the country undefended?”
“It seems to show,” returned Langdon, “that the viceroy is directing
the movement. To attack and massacre the inmates of an unguarded
mission could readily be attributed to an uncontrolled mob and would
be a subject for conference and indemnity; but an attack on a defended
mission, and by soldiers in uniform, will show the Chinese that the war
is between the representatives of the foreign governments and their
own, and being successful will stir the whole population of this part
of China to rise and drive out all foreigners. I believe to-night
will be one of blood for foreigners in China, if those away from the
protection of our river gunboats have not already paid the penalty of
their trusting natures.”
“We must not delay an instant in taking this information to the
captain,” Phil declared excitedly, the contemplated movement of the
expulsionists with its possible results flashing through his mind.
The foreign gunboat captains were gathered about the cabin table when
Langdon and Phil were announced by the orderly, and all listened
intently while the pilot gave hurriedly the story brought by the two
Chinese refugees.
A buzz of eager conversation and questions ensued as Langdon finished.
Each of the captains had his own plans to advance, but Commander
Hughes, as the senior, was the first to be heard. He arose, his face
grave, and at once the room was hushed; all recognized and respected
his understanding and fertility of resource.
“We must acknowledge a failure in our diplomatic mission to the
viceroy,” he began, weighing each word carefully; “the cable being
in the hands of the Chinese officials, we are for the present cut
off from instructions from our respective governments. We have here
every available vessel on the river, except those necessary for the
protection of the missions farther up the country; the state of the
river at present will not admit of the battle-ships coming to our aid,
and the two monitors of my government are by last accounts as yet in
the Philippines. We must act here and now; there is no time for calm
and deliberate judgment; our decision must be made quickly, and our
act must be as prompt, if we are to be in time to prevent a general
massacre of foreigners.”
The speaker stopped and glanced earnestly at the faces of his
colleagues; each recognized full well the delicacy of the position.
Would their respective governments sanction their acts, or would they
find themselves disgraced and relieved of their commands, for not
having followed a course of procedure decided upon by their sovereigns
at a great distance from the scene of disturbance and in the light of
events which had not as yet transpired?
“My government,” Commander Hughes resumed, “is one of the most
conservative of those represented here; it has ever been against
striking the first blow. But there has now come a time when humanity
calls for other and more drastic measures. You have just heard from
the lips of one who knows these people far better than we that these
fanatics aided by the viceroy intend attacking a mission guarded by
American sailors.”
Commander Hughes as he spoke spread out a chart upon the table before
him, beckoning Langdon at the same time to his side.
“If we remain anchored here the guns of the forts, if hostile, will
soon drive us from the city,” he began again, his eyes on the chart.
“Before we strike a blow we must first embark all foreigners from the
concession and change our anchorage to one beyond the range of the
forts. With this startling news from the Chinese prisoners, coupled
with the attempt last night to blow up the gates of the mission, the
intention of the Chinese is no longer a matter of conjecture. We have
now to face a condition. This mission, guarded by sailors from my own
ship, is in imminent peril and must be relieved at once. Every moment
is precious. The means only should now be considered by us. I have two
plans in mind: the first one is to move farther up the river to a point
abreast the mission,” placing his finger on the chart; “from the river
it is but three miles to the mission, and we can easily land a force
after dark and march across to its relief.”
As the captain finished he glanced inquiringly at the pilot.
“That would be very difficult, sir,” Langdon said quickly, reading
the question in his captain’s eyes. “True, from there the distance
is short, but we shall have to cross a wide and deep irrigation
ditch. This canal is nearly fifty feet in depth and its sides are
perpendicular.”
“Are there no bridges?” inquired a foreign officer anxiously.
“There are several bamboo bridges,” Langdon answered, “but they are
narrow and frail. Probably even now they have been destroyed.”
“Then we must adopt my second plan,” the American commander declared
stoutly. “We have but two thousand men available for landing, which
depletes our ships to an alarming extent, anchored as they are under
the guns of the batteries; if we wait until the mission is attacked
and then land to the rescue, we might find ourselves at a great
disadvantage against the many thousands of well-armed enemies; besides,
in our absence it might prove too great a temptation for the men of
the forts to open fire on our ships, thus cutting us off from our own
vessels. Lien-Chow, where the Chinese fanatics are massing, is from
here seven miles by land and sixteen by water; the rebels will not
leave the cover of their city before dark.
“My recommendation is therefore to get under way at once from this
anchorage, taking with us all foreigners who wish to leave the foreign
concession, and then steam by the forts and into the To-Yan Lake.
Immediately upon our arrival off Lien-Chow I propose to land and
fearlessly attack the rebels in their headquarters. In routing them we
shall either break the back of the uprising, or else make it incumbent
upon the mandarins, the real offenders, to devise other plans for
encouraging this movement against the lives of the Europeans.
“Are you with me, gentlemen?”