"CHINESE GORDON"
For a year after his return from Armenia Gordon was at Chatham, as
Field-Work Instructor and Adjutant, teaching the future officers of
Engineers what he himself had learned in the trenches.
While he was there, a war that had been going on for some years between
Britain and China grew very serious.
Gordon volunteered for service, but when he reached China, in September
1860, the war was nearly at an end. "I am rather late for the
amusement, which won't vex mother," he wrote. He found, however, that
a number of Englishmen, some of them friends of his, were being kept as
prisoners in Pekin by the Chinese. The English and their allies at
once marched to Pekin, and demanded that the prisoners should be given
up.
The Chinese, scared at the sight of the armies and their big guns,
opened the gates. But in the case of many of the prisoners, help had
come too late. The Chinese had treated them most brutally, and many
had died under torture.
Nothing was left for the allied armies to do but to punish the Chinese
for their cruelty, and especially to punish the Emperor for having
allowed such vile things to go on in his own great city.
The Emperor lived in a palace so gorgeous and so beautiful that it
might have come out of the Arabian Nights. This palace the English
general gave orders to his soldiers to pillage and to destroy. Four
millions of money could not have replaced what was destroyed then. The
soldiers grew reckless as they went on, and wild for plunder.
Quantities of gold ornaments were burned for brass. The throne room,
lined with ebony, was smashed up and burned. Carved ivory and coral
screens, magnificent china, gorgeous silks, huge mirrors, and many
priceless things were burned or destroyed, as a gardener burns up heaps
of dead leaves and garden rubbish.
Treasures of every kind, and thousands and thousands of pounds' worth
of exquisite jewels were looted by common soldiers. Often the men had
no idea of the value of the things they had taken. One of them sold a
string of pearls for 16s. to an officer, who sold it next day for £500.
From one of the plunderers Gordon bought the Royal Throne, a gorgeous
seat, supported by the Imperial Dragon's claws, and with cushions of
Imperial yellow silk. You may see it if you go some day to the
headquarters of the Royal Engineers at Chatham, and you will be told
that it was given to his corps by General Gordon.
After the sack of the Summer Palace Gordon had a very busy time,
providing quarters for the English troops, helping to distribute the
money collected for the Chinese who had suffered from the war, and
doing surveying and exploring work. On horseback he and a comrade
explored many places which no European had visited before, and many
were their adventures.
But it was in work greater than this that "Chinese Gordon" was to win
his title. While Gordon was a little boy of ten, a Chinese village
schoolmaster, Hung-Tsue-Schuen, who came of a low half-gipsy race, had
told the people of China that God had spoken to him, and told him that
he was to overthrow the Emperor and all those who governed China, and
to become the ruler and protector of the Chinese people.
Soon he had many followers, who not only obeyed him as their king, but
who prayed to him as their god. He called himself a "Wang," or king,
and his followers called him their "Heavenly King." He made rulers of
some thousands of his followers--most of them his own relations--and
they also were named Wangs, or kings. They also had their own special
names, "The Yellow Tiger," "The One-Eyed Dog," and "Cock-Eye" were
amongst these. Twenty thousand of his own clansmen, many of them
simple country people, who believed all that he told them, joined him.
There also joined him fierce pirates from the coast, robbers from the
hills, murderous members of secret societies, and almost every man in
China who had, or fancied he had, some wrong to be put right.
His army rapidly grew into hundreds of thousands.
When this host of savage-looking men, with their long lank hair, their
gaudy clothes and many-coloured banners, their cutlasses and long
knives, marched through the land, plundering, burning, and murdering,
the hard-working, harmless little Chinamen, with their smooth faces and
neat pigtails, fled before them in terror.
The Tae-Pings, as they came to be called, robbed them, slew them,
burned their houses and their rice fields, and took their little
children away from them. They flayed people alive; they pounded them
to death. Ruin and death were left behind them as they marched on.
Those who escaped were left to starvation. In some places so terrible
was the hunger of the poor people that they became cannibals, for lack
of any other food.
In one city which they destroyed, out of 20,000 people not 100 escaped.
"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,"--so
boasted the rebels.
A march of nearly 700 miles brought this great, murdering, plundering
army to Nanking, a city which the Wangs took, and made their capital.
The frightened peasants were driven before them down to the coast, and
took refuge in the towns there. Many of them had crowded into the port
of Shanghai, and round Shanghai came the robber army. They wanted more
money, more arms, and more ammunition, and they knew they could find
plenty of supplies there. So likely did it seem that they would take
the port, that the Chinese Government asked England and France to help
to drive them away.
In May 1862 Gordon was one of the English officers who helped to do
this. For thirty miles round Shanghai, the rebels, who were the
fiercest of fighters, were driven back. In his official despatch
Gordon's general wrote of him:--"Captain Gordon was of the greatest use
to me." But he also said that Gordon often made him very anxious
because of the daring way in which he would go dangerously near the
enemy's lines to gain information. Once when he was out in a boat with
the general, reconnoitring a town they meant to attack, Gordon begged
to be put ashore so that he might see better what defences the enemy
had.
To the general's horror, Gordon went nearer and nearer the town, by
rushes from one shelter to another. At length he sheltered behind a
little pagoda, and stood there quietly sketching and making notes.
From the walls the rebels kept on firing at him, and a party of them
came stealing round to cut him off, and kill him before he could run
back to the boat. The general shouted himself hoarse, but Gordon
calmly finished his sketch, and got back to the boat just in time.
The Tae-Pings used to drag along with them many little boys whose
fathers and mothers they had killed, and whom they meant to bring up as
rebels. After the fights between the English troops and the Tae-Pings,
swarms of those little homeless creatures were always found.
Gordon writes: "I saved one small creature who had fallen into the
ditch in trying to escape, for which he rewarded me by destroying my
coat with his muddy paws in clinging to me."
In December 1862 Gordon, for his good service in China, was raised to
the rank of major.
Very soon afterwards the Chinese Government asked the English
Government to give them an English officer to lead the Chinese army
that was to fight with, and to conquer, the Tae-Ping rebels.
Already the Chinese soldiers had been commanded by men who spoke
English. One of these, an American adventurer, named Burgevine, was
ready to dare anything for power and money.
To his leadership flocked scoundrels of every nation, hoping to enrich
themselves by plundering the rebels.
Before long, Governor Li Hung Chang found that Burgevine was not to be
trusted, and the command was taken from him.
It was then that the Chinese Government asked England to give them a
leader for their untrained army of Chinese and of adventurers gathered
from all lands. This collection of rag, tag, and bobtail had been
named, to encourage it, and before it had done anything to deserve the
name, the "Chun Chen Chün," or the Ever-Victorious Army.
But "The Almost Always Beaten Army" would have been a much truer name
for it, and the victorious Tae-Pings scornfully laughed at it.
The English general in China had no doubt who was the best man for the
post.
He named Major Charles Gordon, and on 25th March 1863 Gordon took
command, and was given the title of Mandarin by the Chinese.
He knew that the idea of serving under any other monarch than his own
Queen would be a sorrow to his father. He wrote home begging his
father and mother not to be vexed, and telling them how deeply he had
thought before he accepted the command.
By taking the command, he said, he believed he could help to put an end
to the sufferings of the poor people of China. Were he not to have
taken it, he feared that the rebels might go on for years spreading
misery over the land. "I keep your likeness before me," wrote this
young Major who had been trusted with so great a thing to do, to the
mother whom he loved so much. "I can assure you and my father I will
not be rash. . . . I really do think I am doing a good service in
putting down this rebellion."
"I hope you do not think that I have got a magnificent army," he wrote
to a soldier friend. "You never did see such a rabble as it was; and
although I think I have improved it, it is still sadly wanting. Now,
both men and officers, although ragged and perhaps slightly
disreputable, are in capital order and well disposed."
Before his arrival, the soldiers had had no regular pay. They were
allowed to "loot," or plunder, the towns they took, and for each town
taken they were paid so much.
At once Gordon began to get his ragamuffin army into shape.
He arranged that the soldiers were to get their pay regularly, but were
to have no extra pay for the places which they took. Any man caught
plundering a town that was taken was to be shot. He replaced the
adventurers of all nations, many of them drunken rogues, who were the
army's officers, by English officers lent by the British Government.
He drilled his men well. He practised them in attacking fortified
places, and he formed a little fleet of small steamers and Chinese
gunboats. The chief of these was the _Hyson_, a little paddle steamer
that could move over the bed of a creek on its wheels when the water
was too shallow to float it.
The army, too, was given a uniform, at which not only the rebels but
the Chinese themselves at first mocked, calling the soldiers who wore
it "Sham Foreign Devils."
But soon so well had Gordon's army earned its name of "The
Ever-Victorious Army," that the mere sight of the uniform they wore
frightened the rebels.
In one month Gordon's army was an army and not a rabble, and the very
first battles that it fought were victories.
With 3000 men he attacked a garrison of 10,000 at Taitsan, and after a
desperate fight the rebels were driven out.
From Taitsan the victorious army went on to Quinsan, a large fortified
city, connected by a causeway with Soochow, the capital of the province.
All round Quinsan the country was cut up in every direction with creeks
and canals. But Gordon knew every creek and canal in that flat land.
He knew more now than any other man, native or foreigner, where there
were swamps, where there were bridges, which canals were choked with
weeds, and which were easily sailed up. He made up his mind that the
rebels in Quinsan must be cut off from those in Soochow.
At dawn, one May morning, eighty boats, with their large white sails
spread out like the wings of big sea-birds, and with many-coloured
flags flying from their rigging, were seen by the rebel garrison at
Quinsan sailing up the canal towards the city. In the middle of this
fleet the plucky little _Hyson_, with Gordon on board, came paddling
along.
By noon they reached a barrier of stakes placed across the creek.
These they pulled up, sailed to the shore, and landed their troops
close to the rebel stockades. For a minute the Tae-Pings stood and
stared, uncertain what to do, and then, in terror, ran before Gordon's
army.
There had been many boats in the creek, but the rebels had sprung out
of them and a left them to drift about with their sails up, so that it
was no easy work for the _Hyson_ to thread her way amongst them. Still
the little boat steamed slowly and steadily on towards Soochow. Along
the banks of the canal the rebels, in clusters, were marching towards
safety. On them the _Hyson_ opened fire, puffing and steaming after
them, and battering them with shells and bullets.
Like an angry little sheep-dog driving a mob of sheep, it drove the
rebels onwards. Many lay dead on the banks, or fell into the water and
were drowned. One hundred and fifty of them were taken as prisoners on
board the _Hyson_.
When they were less than a mile from Soochow, as night was beginning to
fall, Gordon decided to turn back and rejoin the rest of his forces.
Some of the rebels, thinking that the _Hyson_ was gone for good, had
got into their boats again, and were gaily sailing up the creek when
they saw the steamer's red and green lights, and heard her whistle.
The mere glare of the lights and hoot of the whistle seemed to throw
them into a panic. In the darkness the flying mobs of men along the
canal banks met other rebels coming to reinforce them, and in the wild
confusion that followed the guns of the _Hyson_ mowed them down. About
10.30 P.M. the crew of the _Hyson_ heard tremendous yells and cheers
coming from a village near Quinsan, where the rebels had made a stand.
Gordon's gunboats were firing into the stone fort, and from it there
came a rattle and a sparkle of musketry like fireworks, and wild yells
and shouts from the rebels. The gunboats were about to give in and run
away when the little _Hyson_ came hooting out of the darkness.
Gordon's army welcomed him with deafening cheers, and the rebels threw
down their arms and fled. The _Hyson_ steamed on up the creek towards
Quinsan, and in the darkness Gordon saw a huge crowd of men near a high
bridge. It was too dark to see clearly, but the _Hyson_ blew her
whistle. At once from the huddled mass of rebels came yells of fear.
It was the garrison of Quinsan, some seven or eight thousand, trying to
escape to Soochow. In terror they fled in every direction--8000 men
fleeing before thirty. The _Hyson_ fired as seldom as she could, but
even then, that day the rebels must have lost from three to four
thousand men, killed, drowned, and prisoners. All their arms also,
they lost, and a great number of boats.
Next morning at dawn, Gordon and his army took possession of Quinsan.
They had fought almost from daybreak until daybreak. "The rebels
certainly never got such a licking before," wrote Gordon.
The Ever-Victorious Army was delighted with itself, and very proud of
its leader. But they were less well-pleased with Gordon when they
found that instead of going on to a town where they could sell the
things they had managed to loot, they were to stay at Quinsan.
They were so angry that they drew up a proclamation saying that unless
they were allowed to go to a town they liked better, they would blow
their officers to pieces with the big guns. Gordon felt sure that the
non-commissioned officers were at the bottom of the mischief. He made
them parade before him, and told them that if they did not at once tell
him the name of the man who had written the proclamation, he would have
one out of every five of them shot. At this they all groaned, to show
what a monster they thought Gordon. One corporal groaned louder than
all the rest, and Gordon turned on him, his eyes blazing. So sure was
Gordon that this was their leader that, with his own hands, he dragged
him from the ranks.
[Illustration: With his own hands, he dragged him from the ranks]
"Shoot this fellow!" he said to two of his bodyguard. The soldiers
fired, and the corporal fell dead.
The other non-commissioned officers he sent into imprisonment for one
hour.
"If at the end of that time," said he, "the men do not fall in at their
officers' commands, and if I am not given the name of the writer of
that proclamation, every fifth man of you shall be shot."
At the end of the hour the men fell in, and the name of the writer of
the proclamation was given to Gordon. The man had already been
punished. It was the corporal who had groaned so loud an hour before.
This was not the only case that Gordon had in his own army. More than
once his officers were rebellious and troublesome. General Ching, a
Chinese general, was jealous of him. Ching one day made his men fire
on 150 of Gordon's soldiers, and treated it as a joke when Gordon was
angry. At the beginning of the campaign Gordon had promised his men
that they should have their pay regularly instead of plundering the
places they took. His own pay, and more, had gone to do this and to
help the poor. And now Li Hung Chang, the Governor, said he could not
pay the men; and no one but Gordon seemed to mind when Ching broke his
promise to prisoners who had been promised safety, and slew them
brutally.
Disgusted with this want of honour and truth in the men with whom he
had to work, Gordon made up his mind to throw up his command.
Just then, however, Burgevine, the adventurer, who had once led the
Emperor's army, again became very powerful. He gathered together a
number of men as reckless as himself, and joined the rebels. The
rebels made him a Wang, or King, and he offered so much money to those
who would serve under him that crowds of Gordon's grumbling soldiers
deserted and joined Burgevine.
Burgevine and his followers were a grand reinforcement for the rebel
army, and things began to look serious.
Gordon could not bear that the rebels should be allowed unchecked to
swarm over China and plunder and slay innocent people. Instead of
resigning he once more led the Ever-Victorious Army, and led it to
victory.
Soochow, "The City of Pagodas," was besieged. There were twice as many
soldiers in the town as there were besiegers, and amongst them were
Burgevine and his men. In front of the city Gordon placed his guns,
and after a short bombardment that did much damage to the walls, he
ordered his troops to advance. A terrific fire from the enemy drove
them back. Again Gordon's guns bombarded the city, and were pushed
forward as far as possible. Then again the besiegers rushed in, but
found that the creek round the city was too wide for the bridge they
carried with them. But the officers plunged fearlessly into the water
and dashed across. Their men followed them, the Tae-Pings fled, and
stockade after stockade was taken. Gordon himself, with a mere handful
of men, took three stockades and a stone fort.
In this siege, as in many other fights, Gordon had himself to lead his
army. If an officer shrank back before the savage enemy, Gordon would
take him gently by the arm and lead him into the thickest of the
battle. He himself went unarmed, and would lead his troops onwards
with the little cane he nearly always carried. Where the fire was
hottest, there Gordon was always to be found, caring no more for the
bullets that pattered round him than if they were hailstones. The
Chinese soldiers came to look on the little cane as a magic wand.
Gordon's "magic wand of victory," they called it.
During the siege he found men in his own army selling information to
the rebels. One young officer, more out of carelessness, it seemed,
than from any bad wish, had written a letter giving information to the
enemy.
"I shall pass over your fault this time," said Gordon, "if you show
your loyalty by leading the next forlorn hope."
Gordon forgot this condition, but the young officer did not. He led
the next assault, was shot in the mouth, and fell back and died in the
arms of Gordon, who was by his side.
A very wonderful old bridge, one of fifty-three arches, was destroyed
during the siege of Soochow, greatly to Gordon's regret.
One evening he was sitting smoking a cigar on one of the damaged
parapets of the bridge when two shots, accidentally fired by his own
men, struck the stone on which he sat. At the second shot he got down,
entered his boat, and started to row across the creek in order to find
out by whom the shots had been fired. He was scarcely clear of the
bridge than the part on which he had been seated fell crashing into the
water, nearly smashing his boat.
The Chinese were more sure than ever that it must be magic that kept
their general alive. Even when in a fierce fight he was severely
wounded below the knee, they believed that his magic wand had saved his
life.
From Soochow and the rebels he succeeded in rescuing Burgevine and his
miserable followers, even although he knew that Burgevine was ready for
any deed of treachery towards him at any minute.
One rebel stronghold after another fell before Gordon and his army, but
many and fierce were the fights that were fought before Soochow was
taken.
The Wangs gave in at last. They agreed to surrender if Gordon promised
to spare the lives of the leading Wangs--six in all--to treat all the
other rebels mercifully, and not to sack the city. To all these
conditions Gordon, Li Hung Chang, and General Ching gladly agreed, and
that night one of the gates was thrown open, and the Ever-Victorious
Army took possession of Soochow.
As a reward for their brave service, and to make up to them for the
loot they were not to have, Gordon asked Li Hung Chang to give his
troops two months' pay. Li refused, but presently gave them pay for
one month, and Gordon marched his grumbling soldiers back to Quinsan,
unable to trust them in a city where so much rich plunder was to be had.
As Gordon left the city the Wangs, wearing no arms, and laughing and
talking, rode past him on their way to a banquet with Li Hung Chang.
He never saw them alive again.
He had some time to wait for the steamer that was to take him to
Quinsan, so, having seen his army marching safely off, he rode round
the walls of the city. In front of Li Hung Chang's quarters he saw a
great crowd, but so sure did he feel that Li would not break his solemn
promises that he did not feel uneasy. A little later a large number of
General Ching's men entered the city, yelling loudly, and firing off
their guns. This was so unlike the peaceful way that Gordon and Ching
had promised they should behave, that Gordon went and spoke to their
officers.
"This will never do," he said. "There are still many rebels in the
city, and if our men get excited the rebels will get excited too, and
there will be fearful rioting."
Just then General Ching appeared. He had fancied Gordon safely
steaming across the lake, and when he saw him he turned pale.
In answer to Gordon's questions as to the meaning of the disturbance,
he gave some silly answer, which it was easy to see was untrue. Gordon
at once rode to the house of Nar Wang, the chief of the Wangs and the
bravest of them, to find out for himself what was wrong. On his way he
met crowds of excited rebels, and a large band of Ching's soldiers
laden with plunder. Nar Wang's house, he found, had been emptied of
everything by the thieving soldiers. An uncle of Nar Wang begged
Gordon to help him to take the women of Nar Wang's house to his own
home, where they would be in safety. Unarmed as he was, Gordon did so,
but when they got to the house of Nar Wang's uncle they found the
courtyard filled with thousands of rebel soldiers. The doors and gates
were shut at once, and Gordon was a prisoner. During the night more
and more rebels came to the house. They all said that Li Hung Chang
and Gordon had laid a trap for the Wangs and had taken them prisoners,
but none knew exactly what had happened to them. It was well for
Gordon that they did not. Probably they would have tortured him in one
of the many hideous ways the Chinese knew so well, and then put him to
death. At length Gordon persuaded his captors to allow him to send a
messenger to summon his own bodyguard, and also an order to some of his
other soldiers to seize Li Hung Chang, and not to let him go until the
Wangs had safely returned to their own homes.
On the way the messenger met some of Ching's soldiers, who wounded him
and tore up Gordon's message. The rebels then allowed Gordon to be his
own messenger; but on the way he met more of Ching's men, who seized
him, because, they said, he was in company with rebels, and kept him
prisoner for several hours.
When at last he got away and reached his own men, he sent a body of
them to protect the house of Nar Wang's uncle. General Ching arrived
just then. Gordon, furious with him for the looting and bad behaviour
of his men, fell on him in a perfect storm of rage, and Ching hurried
off to the city.
He sent an English officer to explain to Gordon what had happened, but
this officer said he did not know whether the Wangs were alive or dead.
He said, however, that Nar Wang's son was in his boat, and that he
would be able to tell him.
"My father has been killed," said the boy. "He lies dead on the other
side of the creek."
Gordon crossed the creek in a boat, and on the banks lay the dead
bodies of the Wangs, headless, and frightfully gashed. Li Hung Chang
and General Ching had broken their promise, and Gordon's. The guests
of the banquet of Li Hung Chang had been cruelly murdered.
Many were the excuses that the Chinese Governor had to offer; many were
the reasons that he gave for breaking faith so shamefully.
But to none of his excuses or reasons would Gordon listen. It is said
that, in furious anger, he sought Li Hung Chang, revolver in hand, that
he might shoot him like a dog. But Li wisely hid himself, and Gordon
sought him in vain. He wrote to Li, telling him he must give up his
post as Governor, or Gordon and his army would attack all the places
the Chinese held, retake them, and hand them back to the rebels. His
anger and his shame were equally great.
Li Hung Chang did the wisest thing that then could be done. He sent
for Halliday Macartney, a wise and brave English officer, and a friend
of Gordon's, and asked him to go to Gordon and try and make peace
between them. Macartney at once got a native boat with several rowers,
and started for Quinsan. It was the middle of the night when he
arrived, and Gordon was in bed. Very soon, however, he sent Macartney
a message, asking him to come and see him in his room. Macartney went
upstairs and found Gordon sitting on his bedstead in a badly lighted
room. When Gordon saw him, he stooped down, drew something from under
his bed, and held it up.
"Do you see that? Do you see that?" he asked.
Macartney stared in horror, scarcely able, in the dim light, to see
what it was.
"It is the head of Nar Wang, foully murdered!" said Gordon, and sobbed
most bitterly.
Halliday Macartney found it impossible then to get Gordon to forgive Li
for his treachery. For two months Gordon remained in quarters, while
inquiries, made at his demand, were being made about the death of the
Wangs.
During this time the Chinese Government gave Gordon a medal that only
the bravest soldiers ever received, to show how highly they valued his
services as general. The Emperor also sent him a gift of 10,000 taels
(then about £3000 of our money) and many other costly gifts. When the
treasure-bearers appeared in Gordon's quarters, bearing bowls full of
gold on their heads, as if they had walked straight out of the Arabian
nights, Gordon, believing the Emperor meant to bribe him to say no more
about the murder of the Wangs, was in a white-heat of fury. With his
"magic wand" he fell on the treasure-bearers, and flogged the amazed
and terrified men out of his sight.
Although the Government gave Gordon a medal for the way in which he had
fought, it was Li Hung Chang who took all the credit for the taking of
Soochow.
He published a report telling how the army under him had taken it. But
while Gordon was under a daily fire of bullets, and daily ran a hundred
risks of losing his life, the wily Li, who sounded so brave on paper,
was safely sitting in Shanghai, miles away from the besieged city.
Gordon had much cause for anger. There seemed every reason why he
should not forgive Li, and why he should leave China and its people to
the mercy of the rebels.
But Gordon had learned what it means to say "Forgive us our
trespasses." And not only that, but he had taken the sorrows of the
unhappy people of China into his heart. Whatever their rulers might
do, he felt he could not desert them. He must free them from the
cruelties of their oppressors, the Tae-Pings, before he went home to
his own land.
In February 1864 Gordon again took command. From then until 11th May
he was kept constantly fighting, and steadily winning power for the
Emperor of China.
On 10th May Gordon wrote to his mother: "I shall leave China as poor as
I entered it, but with the knowledge that through my weak
instrumentality upwards of eighty to one hundred thousand lives have
been spared. I want no further satisfaction than this."
On 11th May Gordon took Chanchufu, the last great rebel stronghold, and
the rebellion was at an end. "The Heavenly King" killed his wives and
himself in his palace at Nankin, and the other rebel chiefs were
beheaded.
Before Gordon gave up his command, the Chinese Government again offered
him a large sum of money, but again he refused it. But he could not
well refuse the honour of being made a Ti-Tu, or Field-Marshal, in the
Chinese Army, nor the almost greater honour of being given the Yellow
Jacket. To us the giving of a yellow jacket sounds a foolish thing,
but to a Chinaman the Yellow Jacket, and peacock's feathers that go
with it, are an even greater honour than to an Englishman is that plain
little cross that is called "The Victoria Cross," and which is given
for valour. Gordon accepted the yellow jacket, as well as six
magnificent mandarin dresses, such as were worn by a Ti-Tu. "Some of
the buttons on the mandarin hats are worth £30 or £40," he wrote. A
heavy gold medal was struck in his honour and given to him by the
Empress Regent. It was one of the few belongings he had for which
Gordon really cared a great deal, and presently you will hear how he
gave even that up for the sake of other people.
The Chinese Government told the British Government that Gordon would
receive no rewards from the Chinese for the great things he had done
for their country, and asked that his own Queen Victoria would give him
some reward that he would accept. This was done, and Major Gordon was
made a Lieutenant-Colonel and a Companion of the Bath.
Not only in China was he a hero, but in England also. Gordon had saved
China from an army of conquering robbers, "first"--it was written in
the _Times_--"by the power of his arms, and afterwards, still more
rapidly, by the terror of his name."
Li Hung Chang was ready to do anything that the hero wished, and so,
before he said good-bye to his army, Gordon saw that his officers and
men were handsomely rewarded.
It was not wonderful that his army had learned to love him, for even
the rebels who feared his name loved him too. They knew that he was
always true and brave, honourable and merciful.
Of him one of the rebels wrote: "Often have I seen the deadly musket
struck from the hand of a dastardly Englishman (tempted by love of loot
to join our ranks) when he attempted from his place of safety to kill
Gordon, who ever rashly exposed himself. This has been the act of a
chief--yea, of the Shield King himself."
All England was ready to give "Chinese Gordon" a magnificent welcome
when he came home. Invitations from the greatest in the land were
showered upon him.
But when, early in 1865, he returned, he refused to be made a hero of.
"I only did my duty," he said, and grew quite shy and ashamed when
people praised and admired him. He would accept no invitations, and it
was only a very few people who were lucky enough to hear him fight his
battles over again. Sometimes in the evening as he sat in the
fire-light, in his father's house at Southampton, he would tell his
eager listeners the wonderful tale of his battles and adventures in the
far-off land of pagodas.
And to them not the least wonderful part of what they listened to was
this, that the hero who was known all over the world as "Chinese
Gordon" was one who took no credit for any of the great things he had
done, and who was still as simple and modest as a little child.