CHAPTER IV.

THE TAEPING REBELLION.

In order to bring before the reader the magnitude of Gordon's

achievements in China it is necessary to describe briefly the course

of the Taeping rebellion, and to show the kind of opponents over whom

he was destined to obtain so glorious and decisive a victory. But as

this would be to tell a thrice-told tale, I content myself with giving

in an abridged form the account I prepared from the papers of General

Gordon and other trustworthy sources, which appears in the last volume

of my "History of China."

As far back as the year 1830 there had been symptoms of disturbed

popular feeling in Kwangsi, the most southern province of China

adjacent to Tonquin. The difficulty of operating in a region which

possessed few roads, and which was only rendered at all accessible by

the West River or Sikiang, had led the Chinese authorities, much

engaged as they were about the foreign question, to postpone those

vigorous measures, which, if taken at the outset, might have speedily

restored peace and stamped out the first promptings of revolt. The

authorities were more concerned at the proceedings of the formidable

secret Association, known as the "Triads," than at the occurrences in

Kwangsi, probably because the Triads made no secret that their object

was the expulsion of the Manchus and the restoration of the old Ming

dynasty. The true origin of the Triads is not to be assigned, but

there seems reasonable ground for the suspicion that they were

connected with the discontented monks of a Buddhist monastery which

had been suppressed by the Government. Between them they seem to have

formed the inception of what became the famous Taeping rebellion.

The summer of 1850 witnessed a great accession of energy on the part

of the rebels in Kwangsi, which may perhaps have been due to the death

of the Emperor Taoukwang. The important town of Wuchow on the Sikiang,

close to the western border of Kwantung, was besieged by a force

reported to number 50,000 men. The governor was afraid to report the

occurrence, knowing that it would carry his own condemnation and

probable disgrace; and it was left for a minor official to reveal the

extent to which the insurgents had carried their depredations. Two

leaders named Chang assumed the style of royalty; other bands appeared

in the province of Hoonan as well as in the southern parts of

Kwantung, but they all collected by degrees on the Sikiang, where they

placed an embargo on merchandise, and gradually crushed out such trade

as there had been by that river. Their proceedings were not restricted

to the fair operations of war. They plundered and massacred wherever

they went. They claimed to act in the name of the Chinese people; yet

they slew all they could lay hands upon, without discrimination of age

or sex.

The confidence of the insurgents was raised by frequent success, and

by the manifest inability of the Canton Viceroy to take any effectual

military measures against them. Two hundred imperial troops were

decoyed into a defile, and slaughtered by an overwhelming force in

ambush. This reverse naturally caused considerable alarm in Canton

itself, and defensive measures were taken. Governor Yeh was sent

against them with 2000 men, and he succeeded in compelling, or as some

say in inducing, them to retreat. Any satisfaction this success may

have occasioned was soon dispelled, for at Lienchow, near the small

port of Pakhoi, the rebels not merely gained a victory, but were

joined by the troops sent to attack them. But these successes at

several different points were of far less significance than the

nomination of a single chief with the royal title of Tien Wang, or the

Heavenly King.

The man on whom their choice fell was named Hung-tsiuen. He was the

son of a small farmer, who lived in a village near the North River,

about thirty miles from Canton. If he was not a Hakka himself, he

lived in a district which was considered to belong exclusively to that

strange race, which closely resembles our gipsies. He belonged to a

degraded race, therefore, and it was held that he was not entitled to

that free entry into the body of the civil service, which is the

natural privilege of every true-born Chinese subject. His friends

declared that he came out high at each of the periodical examinations,

but their statements may have been false in this as in much else. The

fact is clear that he failed to obtain his degrees, and that he was

denied admission into the public service. Hung was therefore a

disappointed candidate, the more deeply disappointed, perhaps, that

his sense of injured merit and the ill-judging flattery of his

admirers made his rejection appear unjust.

Hung was, at all events, a shrewd observer of the weakness of the

Government, and of the popular discontent. He perceived the

opportunity of making the Manchu dynasty the scapegoat of national

weakness and apathy. He could not be the servant of the Government.

Class contempt, the prejudices of his examiners, or it may even have

been his own haughty presumption and self-sufficiency, effectually

debarred him from the enjoyment of the wealth and privileges that fall

to the lot of those in executive power in all countries, but in

Asiatic above every other. To his revengeful but astute mind it was

clear that if he could not be an official he might be the enemy of the

Government and its possible subverter.

The details of his early career have been mainly recorded by those who

sympathised with the supposed objects of his operations; and while

they have been very anxious to discover his virtues, they were always

blind to his failings. The steps of his imposture have therefore been

described with an amount of implicit belief which reflected little

credit on the judgment of those who were anxious to give their

sanction to the miracles which preceded the appearance of this

adventurer in the field. Absurd stories as to his dreams, allegorical

coincidences showing how he was summoned by a just and all-powerful

God to the supreme seat of power, were repeated with a degree of faith

so emphatic in its mode of expression as to make the challenge of its

sincerity appear extremely harsh. Hung, the defeated official

candidate, the long-deaf listener to the entreaties of Christian

missionaries, was thus in a brief time metamorphosed into Heaven's

elect for the Dragon Throne, into the iconoclastic propagator of the

worship of a single God, and the destroyer of the mass of idolatry

stored in the hearts and venerated in the temples of the Chinese

people for countless ages. Whether Hung was merely an intriguer or a

fanatic, he could not help feeling some gratitude to those who so

conveniently echoed his pretensions to the Throne at the same time

that they pleaded extenuating circumstances for acts of cruelty and

brigandage often unsurpassed in their infamy.

If he found the foreigners thus willing to accept him at his own

estimate, it would have been very strange if he had not experienced

still greater success in imposing upon the credulity of his own

countrymen. To declare that he had dreamt dreams which showed that he

was selected by a heavenly mandate for Royal honours was sufficient to

gain a small body of adherents, provided only that he was prepared to

accept the certain punishment of detection and failure. If Hung's

audacity was shown by nothing else, it was demonstrated by the lengths

to which he carried the supernatural agency that urged him to quit the

ignominious life of a Kwantung peasant for the career of a pretender

to Imperial honours. The course of training to which he subjected

himself, the ascetic deprivations, the loud prayers and invocations,

the supernatural counsels and meetings, was that adopted by every

other religious devotee or fanatic as the proper novitiate for those

honours based on the superstitious reverence of mankind, which are

sometimes no inadequate substitute for temporal power and influence,

even when they fail to pave the way to their attainment.

Yet when Hung proceeded to Kwangsi there was no room left to hope that

the seditious movement would dissolve of its own accord, for the

extent and character of his pretensions at once invested the rising

with all the importance of open and unveiled rebellion. After the

proclamation of Hung as Tien Wang, the success of the Kwangsi rebels

increased. The whole of the country south of the Sikiang, with the

strong military station of Nanning, fell into their hands, and they

prepared in the early part of the year 1851 to attack the provincial

capital Kweiling, which commanded one of the principal high roads into

the interior of China. So urgent did the peril at this place appear

that three Imperial Commissioners were sent there direct by land from

Peking, and the significance of their appointment was increased by the

fact that they were all Manchus. They were instructed to raise troops

_en route_, and to reach Kweiling as soon as possible. Their movements

were so dilatory that that place would have fallen if it had not been

for the courage and military capacity shown by Wurantai, leader of the

Canton Bannermen. This soldier fully realised the perils of the

situation. In a memorial to the Throne he spoke plainly:--

"The outer barbarians (Europeans) say that of literature China

has more than enough, of the art of war not sufficient. The whole

country swarms with the rebels. Our funds are nearly at an end,

and our troops few; our officers disagree, and the power is not

concentrated. The commander of the forces wants to extinguish a

burning wagon-load of fagots with a cupful of water. I fear we

shall hereafter have some serious affair--that the great body

will rise against us, and our own people leave us."

The growth of the rebellion proved steady if slow. Although 30,000

troops were stated to be concentrated opposite the Taeping positions,

fear or inexperience prevented action, and the numbers and courage of

the Imperialists melted away. Had the Chinese authorities only pressed

on, they must, by sheer weight, have swept the rebels into Tonquin,

and there would thus have been an end of Tien Wang and his

aspirations. They lacked the nerve, and their vacillation gave

confidence and reputation to an enemy that need never have been

allowed to become formidable.

While the Imperial authorities had been either discouraged or at the

least lethargic, the pretender Tien Wang had been busily engaged in

establishing his authority on a sound basis, and in assigning their

respective ranks to his principal followers who saw in the conferring

of titles and posts, at the moment of little meaning or value, the

recognition of their past zeal and the promise of reward for future

service. The men who rallied round Tien Wang were schoolmasters and

labourers. To these some brigands of the mountain frontier supplied

rude military knowledge, while the leaders of the Triads brought as

their share towards the realisation of what they represented as a

great cause skill in intrigue, and some knowledge of organisation.

Neither enthusiasm nor the energy of desperation was wanting; but for

those qualities which claim respect, if they cannot command success,

we must look in vain. Yet the peasants of Kwangsi and the artisans of

Kwantung assumed the title of "Wang" or prince, and divided in

anticipation the prizes that should follow the establishment of some

dynasty of their own making.

The war dragged on in the Sikiang valley during two years, but the

tide of success had certainly set in the main against the

Imperialists, as was shown by the scene of operations being

transferred to the northern side of that river. The campaign might

have continued indefinitely until one side or the other was exhausted

had not the state of the province warned Tien Wang that he could not

hope to feed much longer the numerous followers who had attached

themselves to his cause. He saw that there would very soon remain for

him no choice except to retire into Tonquin, and to settle down into

the ignominious life of a border brigand. To Tien Wang the thought was

intolerable, and in sheer desperation he came to the resolve to march

northwards into the interior of China. It was not the inspiration of

genius but the pressure of dire need that urged the Taeping leader to

issue his orders for the invasion of Hoonan. He issued a proclamation

on the eve of beginning this march, announcing that he had received

"the divine commission to exterminate the Manchus and to possess the

Empire as its true sovereign."

It was at this stage in the rebellion that the name "Taepings" came

into general use, and various accounts are given as to its origin.

Some say it was taken from the small town of that name in the

south-west of Kwangsi, where the insurrection began; others that the

characters mean "Universal Peace," and that it was the style assumed

by the new dynasty. In seeming contradiction with this is the fact

that some of the Taepings themselves declared that they never heard

the name, and did not know what it meant. At this particular juncture

the rebels were in the heart of Kwangsi, at the district capital of

Woosuen. In May 1851 they moved to Siang, a little north of that

place. They ravaged the country, making no long stay anywhere. In

August they were at Yungan, where 16,000 men were ranged under the

banner of the Heavenly King, and for a moment Tien Wang may have

thought of making a dash on Canton. Respect for Wurantai's military

capacity induced him to forego the adventure, and at Yungan, where he

remained until April 1852, the Taeping leader made his final

arrangements for his march northwards.

At Yungan a circumstance occurred which first promised to strengthen

the Taepings, and then to lead to their disruption. Tien Wang was

joined there by five influential chiefs and many members of the Triad

Society. For a time it seemed as if these allies would necessarily

bring with them a great accession of popular strength; but whether

they disapproved of Tien Wang's plans, or were offended by the

arrogant bearing of the Wangs, who, but the other day little better

than the dregs of the people, had suddenly assumed the yellow dress

and insignia of Chinese royalty, the Triad leaders took a secret and

hurried departure from his camp, and hastened to make their peace with

the Imperialists. The principal of these members of the most

formidable secret society in China--Chang Kwoliang by name--was given

a military command of some importance, and afterwards distinguished

himself among the Imperial commanders. In April 1852 the Taeping army

left its quarters at Yungan and marched direct on Kweiling, the

principal city of the province, where the Imperial commissioners sent

from Peking had long remained inactive. Tien Wang attacked them at the

end of April or the beginning of May, but he was repulsed with some

loss. Afraid of breaking his force against the walls of so strong a

place, he abandoned the attack and marched into Hoonan. Had the

Imperial generals only been as energetic in offensive measures as they

had shown themselves obstinate in defence, they might have harassed

his rear, delayed his progress, and eventually brought him to a

decisive engagement under many disadvantages. But the Imperial

Commissioners at Kweiling did nothing, being apparently well satisfied

with having rid themselves of the presence of such troublesome

neighbours.

On 12th of June the Taepings attacked the small town of Taou in Hoonan

with better success. Some resistance was offered, and one of the

Taeping Wangs, known as the "Southern King," was killed. This was a

great loss, because he was a man of some education, and had taken the

most prominent part in the organisation of the Taeping rebellion.

General Gordon inclined to the opinion that he was the real originator

of the whole rising. His loss was a severe blow to the Taepings, whose

confidence in themselves and their cause was alike rudely shaken. They

could not however turn back, for fear of the force at Kweiling, and to

halt for any time was scarcely less dangerous. Necessity compelled

them therefore to press on, and in August they captured the three

small towns of Kiaho, Ching, and Kweyang. Their next march was both

long and forced. Overrunning the whole adjacent country, they appeared

early in the month of September before the strong and important town

of Changsha, situated on the river Seang, and only fifty miles south

of the large lake Tungting.

At this town, the capital of Hoonan, some vigorous preparations had

been made to withstand them. Not merely was the usual garrison

stationed there, but it so happened that Tseng Kwofan, a man of great

ability and some considerable resolution, was residing near the town

at the time. Tseng Kwofan had held several offices in the service, and

as a member of the Hanlin enjoyed a high position and reputation; but

he was absent from the capital on one of those frequent periods of

retirement to their native province which the officials of China have

to make on the occasion of any near relative's death.

When tidings of the approach of the Taepings reached him he threw

himself with all the forces he could collect into Changsha. At the

same time he ordered the local militia to assemble as rapidly as

possible in the neighbourhood, in order to harass the movements of the

enemy. He called upon all those who had the means to show their duty

to the state and sovereign by raising recruits or by promising rewards

to those volunteers who would serve in the army against the rebels.

Had the example of Tseng Kwofan been followed generally, it is not too

much to say that the Taepings would never have got to Nanking. As it

was, he set the first example of true patriotism, and he had the

immediate satisfaction of saving Changsha.

When the Taepings reached Changsha they found the gates closed and the

walls manned. They proceeded to lay siege to it; they cut off its

supplies, and they threatened the garrison with extermination. They

even attempted to carry it by storm on three separate occasions.

During eighty days the siege went on; but the Taepings were then

compelled to admit that they were as far from success as ever. They

had suffered very considerable losses, including another of their

Wangs, the Western King, and although it was said that the loss of the

Imperialists was larger, they could better afford it. On the 1st

December they accordingly abandoned the siege and resumed their march

northwards. They crossed the Tungting Lake on boats and junks which

they had seized, and secured the town of Yochow on the Yangtsekiang

without meeting any resistance. Here they captured much war material,

including a large supply of gunpowder left by the great Chinese

Viceroy, Wou Sankwei, of the seventeenth century. From Yochow they

hastened down the river. The important city of Hankow surrendered

without a blow. The not less important town of Wouchang, on the

opposite or southern bank of the river, was then attacked, and after a

siege of a fortnight carried by storm. The third town of Hanyang,

which completes the busy human hive where the Han joins the great

river, did not attempt any resistance.

These successes raised the Taepings from the depths of despair to the

heights of hope. The capture of such wealthy places dispelled all

their doubt and discouragement. They were able to repay themselves for

the losses and hardships they had undergone, and the prize they had

thus secured furnished ground for hoping for more. But even now it was

no part of their mission to stand still. They waited at Hankow only

long enough to attach to their cause the many thousands attracted to

Tien Wang's flag by these successes. The possibility of pursuit by

Tseng Kwofan at the head of the warlike levies of Hoonan, where each

brave is considered equal to two from another province, was still

present to their minds. But he unfortunately rested content with his

laurels, while the Taepings swept like an irresistible wave or torrent

down the valley of the Yangtsekiang.

The capture of Kiukiang, a town situated on the river near the

northern extremity of the lake Poyang, and of Ganking followed in

quick succession, and on 8th March the Taepings sat down before

Nanking, the old capital of the Mings. The siege lasted only sixteen

days. Notwithstanding that there was a considerable Manchu force in

the Tartar city, which might easily have been defended apart from the

Chinese and much larger town, the resistance offered was singularly

faint-hearted. The Taepings succeeded in blowing in one of the gates.

The townspeople fraternised with the assailants, and the very Manchus,

who had looked so valiant in face of Sir Hugh Gough's force ten years

before, now surrendered their lives and their honour after a mere show

of resistance to a force which was nothing better than an armed

rabble. The Manchu colony of Nanking, to the number of some 4000

families, had evidently fallen off from its high renown. Instead of

dying at their posts, they threw themselves on the pity of the Taeping

leader. Their cowardice helped them not; of 20,000 Manchus not 100

escaped. The tale rests on irrefragable evidence. "We killed them all

to the infant in arms; we left not a root to sprout from; and the

bodies of the slain we cast into the Yangtse."

The capture of Nanking and this sweeping massacre of the dominant race

seemed to point the inevitable finger of fate at the Tatsing dynasty.

It was no longer possible to regard Tien Wang and his miscellaneous

gathering as an enemy beneath contempt. Without achieving any

remarkable success, having indeed been defeated whenever they were

opposed with the least resolution, the Taepings found themselves in

possession of the second city in the Empire. With that city they

acquired the control of the navigation of the Great River, and they

cut off the better part of the communications between the northern and

southern halves of the Empire. They abandoned Hankow, and confined

their occupation of the river banks to the part between Kiukiang and

Nanking; but they determined to secure the Grand Canal, which enters

the river east of the city. On 1st April 1853 they occupied

Chinkiangfoo, on the southern side of the river, and they held it, but

although they also captured Yangchow on the northern bank, they

evacuated it in a few days. These successes were obtained without any

loss, as all the garrisons fled at the mere approach of the dreaded

Taepings.

The Imperialist authorities seemed paralysed by the rapidity and

success of the rebels, who devoted all their efforts to strengthening

the defences of Nanking and to provisioning it in view of all

eventualities. But the thoughts of Tien Wang and his immediate

advisers were still of offensive and forward measures, and when

Nanking was equipped for defence a large part of the Taeping army was

ordered to march against Peking. At this time it was computed that the

total number of the Taepings did not fall short of 80,000 trustworthy

fighting men, while there were perhaps more than 100,000 Chinese

pressed into their service as hewers of wood and drawers of water. The

lines of Nanking and the batteries along the Yangtsekiang were the

creation of the forced labour of the population which had not fled

before the Taepings.

On the 12th of May an army, stated to consist of 200,000 men, but

probably consisting of less than half that number of combatants,

crossed the Yangtse and marched northwards. It would be uninteresting

to name the many small places they captured on their way, but on 19th

June they reached Kaifong, the capital of Honan, and once of China

itself. They had thus transferred in a few weeks their advanced posts

from the Yangtsekiang to the Hwangho, or Yellow River.

The garrison of Kaifong made a resolute defence, and repulsed the

Taepings, who at once abandoned the siege in accordance with their

usual custom, and resumed their march. They succeeded in crossing the

Yellow River under the eyes of the Kaifong garrison, and they then

attacked Hwaiking, an important prefectural town, where they

encountered a stout resistance. They besieged it for two months, and

then had to give up the attempt. Forces were gathering from different

directions, and it became necessary to baffle their opponents. They

marched westwards for some distance along the southern bank of the

Hwangho, turned suddenly north at Yuenking, and on reaching Pingyang

they again turned in an easterly direction, and secured the Lin

Limming Pass which leads into the Metropolitan province of Pechihli.

The whole of the autumn of 1853 was taken up with these manoeuvres,

and it was on 30th September that the Taepings first appeared in the

province containing the capital. They met with little or no

opposition. They had mystified their pursuers, and surprised the

inhabitants of the districts through which they passed. Having forced

the Limming Pass, the Taepings found no difficulty in occupying the

towns on the south-west border of Pechihli. The defeat of the Manchu

garrison in a pass that was considered almost impregnable gave the

Taepings the prestige of victory, and the towns opened their gates one

after another. They crossed the Hootoo River on a bridge of boats

which they constructed themselves, and then occupied the town of

Shinchow; on 21st October they reached Tsing, about twenty miles south

of Tientsin and only one hundred from Peking; but beyond this point

neither then nor at any other time did the rebels succeed in getting.

The forcing of the Limming Pass produced great confusion at Peking. It

was no longer a question of suffering subjects and disturbed

provinces. The capital of the Empire, the very person of the Emperor,

was in imminent danger of destruction at the hands of a ruthless foe.

The city was denuded of troops. Levies were hastily summoned from

Manchuria in order to defend the line of the Peiho and the approaches

to the capital. Had the Taepings shown better generalship there is no

saying but that they would have succeeded in capturing it, as the

Imperialists had left quite unguarded the approach by Chingting and

Paoting, and the capture of Peking would have sounded the knell of the

Manchu dynasty. But the Taepings did not seize the chance--if it were

one--and they were far from being in the best of spirits. They had

advanced far, but it looked as if it was into the lion's mouth. Their

march had been a remarkable one, but it had been attended with no

striking success. In their front was the Tientsin militia,

strengthened by a large if nondescript force, led by the Mongol chief

Sankolinsin. In their rear the levies of Hoonan, of the vast district

that had suffered from their exactions, were closing up, and soon they

were closely beleaguered in a hastily-fortified camp at Tsinghai. In

this they were besieged from the end of October to the beginning of

March 1854. The Imperial generals, afraid to risk an assault, hoped to

starve them out, and so they might have done had not Tien Wang sent a

fresh army to extricate this force from its peril. Then the retreat

began, but, beset by assailants from every side, it was slow and

disastrous. The struggle went on until March 1855, when Sankolinsin

was able to declare that not a Taeping remained north of the Yellow

River. Only a very small portion of the two armies sent to capture

Peking ever returned to the headquarters of Tien Wang.

While these events, and others that do not call for description as

being of minor importance, were in progress, symptoms of

disintegration were already beginning to reveal themselves in the camp

at Nanking. After its capture Tien Wang himself retired into the

interior of his palace and never afterwards appeared in public. All

his time was passed in the harem, and the opportunity was thus given

his more ambitious lieutenants to assert themselves. Tung Wang, the

"Eastern King," became principal Minister. He, too, claimed to have

communion with Heaven, and on celestial advice he began to get rid of

those of his comrades who opposed his schemes. He even summoned Tien

Wang to his presence and reproved him for his proceedings. A plot was

then formed against Tung Wang, and he was slain with three of his

brothers, in the presence of Tien Wang, by another of the Taeping

chiefs. Nor did the slaughter stop there, for it is alleged, although

the numbers must not be accepted literally, that 200,000 of his

partisans--men, women, and children--were massacred. These internal

dissensions threatened to break up the Taeping confederacy, and no

doubt they would have done so but for the appearance of the most

remarkable man associated with the movement, and one of the most

heroic figures in China's history.

A young officer, rejoicing in the innumerable Chinese name of Li, had

attracted Tung Wang's favourable notice, and was by him entrusted with

a small command. It will be more convenient to speak of him by his

subsequent title of Chung Wang, or the "Faithful King." He

distinguished himself in his first enterprise by defeating a large

Imperial army besieging Chinkiang, and in relieving the garrison when

on the point of surrender. But while engaged on this task the

Imperialists closed in on his rear and cut off his retreat back to

Nanking, whither Tien Wang hastily summoned him to return. He

endeavoured to make his way along the northern bank, but was checked

at Loohoo by the ex-Triad Chang Kwoliang, the same who deserted the

Taepings in Kwangsi. Chang had crossed the river to oppose him, and

Chung Wang, hastily conveying his army over the river, fell upon and

destroyed the weakened force that the Imperial general had left there,

under General Chi, who committed suicide. Chang Kwoliang crossed after

him, but only to suffer defeat, and Chung Wang made his way into

Nanking. He then attacked the main Imperial army before its walls,

under the Emperor's generalissimo Heang Yung, and drove it out of its

entrenchments. Heang took his defeat so much to heart that he also

committed suicide, but Chang Kwoliang made a supreme effort to

retrieve the day, and succeeded in retaking all the lost positions,

with the exception of the Yashua Gate of Nanking.

While these events were in progress in the Taeping capital, some

events that must be briefly referred to happened on a different scene.

The Triads, aided by the mob, rose in Shanghai, overcame the Emperor's

officers and garrison, and on 7th September 1853 obtained complete

mastery of the native city. The foreign settlement was placed in a

state of siege, the men-of-war covered the approaches to the

factories, and a volunteer corps was carefully organised and

constantly employed. Then an Imperial army re-appeared on the scene,

and laid siege to Shanghai, but it was conducted with no skill, and

the situation remained unchanged. After twelve months' delay the

French Admiral, Laguerre, decided to help the Imperialists, and he

began to bombard the walls in December 1854. He combined with them in

an assault, and 400 French sailors and the Imperialists attacked the

walls which had been breached. The assault ended disastrously, for the

rebels defended the houses, and at last drove back the assailants with

much loss. The pressure of famine compelled the besieged some months

later to make a _sortie_, when the Imperialists recovered the town. A

similar rising, with a similar result, occurred at Amoy. The

insurgents caused a great loss of life and property, but in the end

the authorities gained the upper hand. These events compelled the

foreign consuls and their Governments to reconsider their policy,

which had been one of sympathy towards the Taepings, and gradually the

conviction became universal that it would be well for civilization and

trade if a speedy end were put to the Taeping rebellion. But for our

own quarrel and war with the central Government these views would have

borne fruit in acts at an earlier date than they did.

During the campaign of 1858 the Taepings more than held their own

through the courage and activity shown by Chung Wang. He relieved the

town of Ganking when closely pressed by Tseng Kwofan, and although he

could not prevent a fresh beleaguerment of Nanking, it caused him no

apprehension because the Emperor's generals were well known to have no

intention of attacking. Notwithstanding this, it was clearly foreseen

that in time Nanking must fall by starvation. In these straits Chung

Wang proved the saviour of his party. The city was invested on three

sides; only one remained open for any one to carry out the news of

Tien Wang's necessities. In this moment of peril there was a general

reluctance to quit the besieged town, but unless someone did, and that

quickly, the place was doomed. In this supreme moment Chung Wang

offered to go himself. At first the proposal was received with a

chorus of disapproval, but at last, when he went to the door of Tien

Wang's palace and beat the gong which lay there for those who claimed

justice, he succeeded in overcoming the opposition to his plan, and in

impressing upon his audience the real gravity of the situation. His

request was granted, and having nominated trusty men to the command

during his absence, he left by the southern gate. A few days later and

Tseng's last levies constructed their fortified camp in front of it.

The Emperor's generals unfortunately reverted to their old dilatory

measures, because they failed to realise the importance with which the

possession of Nanking still invested the Taepings. Without that city

they would have been nothing but a band of brigands, who could easily

have been dispersed. With it they could claim the status of a separate

dynasty. Yet the capture of Nanking was put off until the last act of

all. These sapient leaders, whose military knowledge was antiquated,

acted with an indifference to the most obvious considerations, that

would have been ludicrous if it had not been a further injury to a

suffering people. In 1858 their apathy was such that it not merely

saved Nanking but played the whole game into the hands of Chung Wang.

That chief succeeded in collecting a small force, with which he at

once began to harass Tseng's army. By transferring his army rapidly

from one side of the river to the other, he succeeded in supplying his

deficiency in numbers; but with all his activity he could make no

impression on the mass of his opponents. He even got the worst of it

in several skirmishes, but by a supreme effort he succeeded in

overpowering the Imperial force north of the river at Poukou, and thus

relieved the pressure on Nanking. But this was only momentary, and

after a doubtful and wearisome campaign throughout the year 1859, the

situation again became one of great gravity for the besieged Taepings

who were now confined to Nanking and a few other towns in the Yangtse

valley.

In this extremity Chung Wang conceived a fresh plan for extricating

his cause from the difficulties that beset it. By January 1860 all

Chung Wang's arrangements were completed. He distributed considerable

sums of money among his men to put them in good humour, and then set

forth. His first movements were directed to misleading his enemy as to

his real object, and having succeeded in this he marched as rapidly as

possible towards the important harbour of Hangchow, in the bay of the

same name, south of Shanghai. On 19th March he succeeded in capturing

the Chinese city, but the Tartar portion held out, and a relieving

army compelled Chung Wang to retire. What seemed an unredeemed

calamity proved a stroke of good fortune, for the Imperialists had

sent their best troops to pursue him, and thus materially weakened the

force before Nanking. Chung Wang saw his chance, and while the

Imperialists were rejoicing in Hangchow at its recovery, he hastened

back by forced marches, and fell upon the besieging army. In the

desperate engagement that followed 5000 Imperialists were slain, and

the remainder were driven ignominiously from the field. Thus, at the

blackest moment of their fortunes, did Chung Wang succeed in

delivering his kinsmen who had so long been shut up in Nanking. This

siege had then continued with more or less interruption for seven

years.

Nor did Chung Wang's success stop here. He fought a battle at Tayan

with his old adversary Chang Kwoliang, and defeated him with a loss of

10,000 men. At the height of the engagement Chang Kwoliang was drowned

while crossing a canal, and this decided the battle. Encouraged by

these successes, and with increased forces--for most of the prisoners

he took were incorporated in his army--Chung Wang assumed the

offensive, and after winning no fewer than three regular engagements,

he succeeded in capturing the important city of Soochow, on the Grand

Canal, and this became his chief quarters during the remainder of this

long struggle. By these successes he obtained fresh supplies, and

commanded the great and hitherto little touched resources of the

wealthy province of Kiangsu. It was thus that he was brought into the

neighbourhood of Shanghai, and made those attempts to acquire

possession of the Chinese city which were set forth in the last

chapter, and which were the true cause of the inception of the

foreign, or foreign-trained force, that began with Ward.

After his repulse at Shanghai, Chung Wang was recalled to Nanking. He

went reluctantly, leaving Hoo Wang, "the Protecting King," as his

deputy at Soochow. He found there everything in confusion, and that

Tien Wang, instead of laying in rice for a fresh siege, was absorbed

in his devotion and amusements, while the other chiefs were engaged in

plundering their own subjects. Dissatisfied with what he saw at

Nanking, Chung Wang again took the field, and transferred the scene of

hostilities to the province of Kiangsi, but although he showed great

activity, and marched 800 miles, he gained little, and, indeed, was

defeated on one or two occasions. Nor could he save Ganking, which,

after being besieged for three years, surrendered to Tseng Kwotsiuen,

and thus all hope of succour from the west, or of retreat there, in

the last resort, was removed from the hard-beset garrison of Nanking.

As some set-off to this reverse, Chung Wang captured the ports of

Ningpo and Hangchow, after a gallant defence by a small Manchu

garrison. The Taepings could scarcely now hope for durable success,

but their capacity for inflicting an enormous amount of injury was

evidently not destroyed. Chung Wang's energy and military skill alone

sustained their cause, but the lovers of rapine and turbulence flocked

in their thousands to his standard.

In the Yangtse valley--in fact, wherever Chung Wang was not--the

Taepings met with many reverses that counterbalanced these successes.

Several Chinese armies approached Nanking from different sides, and

Tien Wang in a state of panic summoned Chung Wang, his only champion,

back to his side. That warrior obeyed the summons, leaving Mow Wang in

charge of Soochow, but he could do no good. He found nothing but

disorder at the Taeping capital, and no troops with which he could

venture to assume the offensive against the powerful army, in numbers

at all events, that the two Tsengs had drawn round Nanking. In this

position his troubles were increased by the suspicion of Tien Wang,

who deprived him of all his honours, and banished him to the province

of Anhui, adjacent to both Kiangsi and Kiangsu, and joined with them

in the same viceroyalty. This order to depart was a relief to Chung

Wang, who was thus able to complete his own measures for the defence

of Soochow and the other places along the Canal that had fallen to his

arms. He saw clearly that the success of the foreigners in keeping him

back at a distance of thirty miles from Shanghai, and in expelling him

from Ningpo, signified his being shut in just as effectively on the

east, as he already was on the west by the fall of every place except

Nanking, and by the miserable inefficiency of the garrison in that

place. He may have really despaired, but this Chinese Frederick was

resolved, if he could, to break his chains. Unfortunately for him, a

new and more formidable antagonist than any he had met appeared on the

scene at this juncture, in the person of Gordon.

This summary of the progress and nature of the Taeping rebellion up to

the 25th March 1863 when Gordon assumed the command will make clear

what follows to the general reader. It would be as great a mistake to

minimise the fighting military strength of the Taepings as it would be

to exaggerate it. There was a moment, years before Gordon came on the

scene, when the Imperial commanders by a little energy and promptitude

might have stamped out the rebellion; but having missed the

opportunity the military skill and daring of Chung Wang had revived

the Taeping cause, and made it more formidable than ever from a

military point of view. The blunders of the Imperial commanders

precluded any confidence as to their superior numbers and resources

effecting their natural result, and although Gordon himself declared

that the Taeping cause was a lost one before he assumed the command,

no cause could be pronounced irretrievable with a leader so expert and

resolute as Chung Wang, and opponents so incapable and craven as his

were. But another thing was certainly incontestable, and that was that

the Taepings could not in any sense be regarded as patriots. Their

regular mode of conduct stamped them at once as undiscriminating

plunderers of all, whether Chinese or Manchu, who had the misfortune

to fall into their hands, and their acts of cruelty surpassed

description and even belief. Some instances of the massacres they

perpetrated have been mentioned, but these were only a few out of the

many that stained, or rather characterised, their usual proceedings.

It will suffice to say that their ordinary way of dealing with their

prisoners was to crucify them, and there will then be no difficulty in

accepting the conclusion that the Chinese population thoroughly

detested them, and regarded them as a scourge rather than as

deliverers.

Nor does a closer examination of the system of administration set up

at Nanking by the leader Tien Wang raise one's opinion of the cause or

its promoters. The foreign missionaries long thought that the Taepings

were the agents of Christianity, and that their success would lead to

the conversion of China. That faith died hard, but at last in 1860 a

missionary had to confess that after visiting Nanking "he could find

nothing of Christianity but its name falsely applied to a system of

revolting idolatry," and out of that and other irresistible testimony

resulted the conclusion that the conversion of China by the agency of

the Taepings was a delusion. The missionaries were not alone in their

belief among foreigners. The Consuls and their Governments entertained

a hope that the Taepings might establish an administration which would

be less difficult to deal with than they had found the existing one at

Peking. They attempted to, and did in an informal manner, establish

some relations with Tien Wang. They acquainted him with the articles

of the Treaty of Tientsin, and they requested him to conform with its

conditions. On a second occasion Sir George Bonham, our head

representative in China, even honoured him with a visit; but closer

acquaintance in the case of our diplomatists, as of the missionaries,

stripped the Taepings of the character with which interested persons

would wish they had been invested. From the first feeling of

friendship and sympathy there consequently ensued a slow but steady

revulsion, until at last the general feeling was that the Taepings

were little more than marauders, and as such a scourge to the country

and a standing injury to the trade and interests of Europeans. Then

came the desire to see the rising suppressed, and finally the

disillusionment culminated in active measures being taken to assist

the Imperial Government in suppressing a rebellion which had defied

all its efforts for more than ten years. Of these measures the

appointment of Major Gordon to the command of the Ever Victorious Army

was both the last and the most effectual in producing the desired

result.

The Life of Gordon, Volume I · 第 4 / 8 章