THE REVOLUTION OF 1911
AND HOW WE WERE AFFECTED BY IT
THE revolution of 1911 burst on us like a bolt from the blue. One day we
were mildly interested at the signs of trouble in far-removed provinces,
and the next, the thing was in our very midst. The first intimation of
local disturbance met me in the shape of a contingent of men, parents of
some of my scholars, who were introduced to my presence with the
startling information that they had come to fetch away their daughters,
not daring to leave them in a marked place such as the girls' school
would inevitably be, and afraid to delay, lest roads should become so
dangerous that their removal would be impossible. I had no option but to
agree, and at earliest dawn the next day a few carts and a string of
donkeys conveyed them from a side door as quietly and unobtrusively as
possible.
Two days later the news of a massacre of the Manchu population of
Taiyueanfu reached us; and in accordance with the request of the parents,
we hastily scattered all the remaining pupils whose homes were nearer at
hand, and the whole city yielded itself to a condition of panic when
every wild report was spread and believed.
The little group of foreigners in this town is popularly supposed to
have access to the most far-reaching sources of information on matters
national and international; therefore when we saw fit to scatter our
resident pupils to their homes, the city concluded that secret
information had been conveyed to us of trouble ahead. That same night,
whilst we slept peacefully in our beds, terror so seized the populace
that every young woman who had a village home to which she could
withdraw, fled to it. Where horse or donkey was not available they
escaped on foot, carrying the bundle which held their clothes, and the
gates being shut at dark, numbers climbed down the steep incline of the
city wall rather than risk the dangers which they feared might threaten
them in the town.
Certainly an anxious time was ahead for all of us. Postal service was
interrupted, and we were completely cut off from intercourse by post or
telegraph with the outer world. It was uncertain whether the movement
would declare itself anti-foreign or anti-Christian, anti-dynastic or
anti-Republican. Such uncertainty was felt on this latter political
point, that it was a difficult time indeed for the large number whose
plain object was to be on the winning side, whichever it might be. Even
the commander of the military forces, sent to restore peace in a
neighbouring city, provided himself with the badge of either party, that
he might, at the city gate, affix that which was representative of the
predominant feeling. The Chinaman has for so long held the view that
politics are no individual concern of his, seeing that statesmen are
paid to give their time and brains to the consideration of such
questions, that it would seem unnatural to be expected to have an
opinion on such a technical matter as to whether the Government of the
land should remain Imperial or become Republican.
On our compound were collected seven foreign women and about a dozen
Chinese girls whose homes were in distant towns, varying from the
borders of Mongolia in the north to places twelve days' journey by road
in the south.
Much anxious thought was devoted to the question of how the various
members of our community could be placed in safe keeping, should it
become imperative for us to leave the place.
Finally, Sir John Jordan's recall of all British women and children
reached us, and feeling it our duty to obey orders, we hastily boarded a
few girls in suitable Christian homes, and left with the others by the
North road. A long line of nine litters swung through the great archways
of the city gates, soon after dawn on 4th December 1911, to convey us to
our nearest point on the railway line, five days' journey away, passing
_en route_ through a city where we knew that a trustworthy Christian
family would take charge, _pro tem_, of some of our Chinese girls.
It was with relief that we saw the distant railway embankment, which
indicated to us that we had reached the end of our litter journey, and
might now expect to be shortly whirled back to the midst of Western
civilisation.
The time-table indicated 9 a.m. as the hour of departure for the morning
train, and long ere this our shivering group assembled on the bleak
platform. We were evidently not to be kept waiting, for the train stood
ready on a siding, and our slight baggage was soon placed in the racks
of the only third-class carriage attached to a goods train. Those who
have spent years away from the sight of a train will understand the
sense of luxury with which we seated ourselves, and waited to hear the
whistle which would be the sign of our departure, and feel the swift,
easy movement which would carry us over so many miles of road almost
without a trace of weariness. Our number had increased to about twenty
foreigners, assembled in response to Sir John Jordan's command from
various stations, and pleasant conversation so engaged the time that
impatience was under control, even though the sun was high in the
heavens and still the train was stationary. Our servants, who had heard
much of the marvels of steam-engines, still sat on patient heels at the
edge of the platform; but doubt of the superiority of this Western
notion gained on their minds as the sun passed the meridian and they,
with twelve miles to walk for their night's lodging, left us still
standing motionless. "A train is a handsome thing to look at, and the
amount of iron used in its manufacture must be immense, but for
practical purposes give me a cart," was the report they brought home to
inquiring friends at Hwochow. In the afternoon we steamed away, under
escort of a young man who had just been appointed Secretary of the
Foreign Office in the provincial capital by the new revolutionary
party. His qualifications for the post consisted chiefly in the fact
that, having been employed by a foreign firm as piano-tuner, he could
make himself understood in the English tongue on simple subjects.
As far as the station of Yangchuen all went well, but here fresh delay
and the unwelcome announcement from our escort that a battle was in
progress farther down the line, the metals were required for the
conveyance of soldiers, and he must beg of us to make ourselves as
comfortable as possible for the night in our compartment. Protest was
useless, and we had to submit to see the engine detached and ourselves
abandoned, a useless derelict, on a rusty siding. The Secretary of the
Foreign Office supplied us with hard-boiled eggs and biscuits, and made
his exit, leaving in charge of the gentlemen of the party a packet of
silver which he begged might be handed to his mother. By morning
stationmaster, guards, porters, and clerks had all vanished from the
scene, for the news had come of a reverse to the Revolutionary forces.
Four days and nights we stuck to our third-class carriage and our
siding; for part of the time, trains thundered past carrying men to the
front, and we were informed that the famous regiment called
"Dare-to-die" had gone to crush the Imperial troops. With a thrill we
saw these brave warriors pass, but a brief period sufficed to dispel
"the great illusion," and twelve hours later the same men were dashing
back to Taiyueanfu, carrying a terrible tale. "Had we stayed longer we
should have been dead men; the bullets were falling in our midst." The
officer, however, gave a different explanation of their return. "Poor
chaps, they are worn out, and I must take them back to get a night's
rest," he said. No one cared for our plight, as cold, hungry, and
deserted we watched the weary day pass to night, and the yet more weary
night give place to a dreary dawn. Such experiences are not to be
desired, for they who know China best, and the anti-foreign feeling
which may at any time manifest itself, are aware how quickly such a
position may become critical.
One thing only besides our miserable carriage had been left on the line,
and that was three trolleys. The hour dawned on the fourth day when our
exhausted patience refused further service, and we determined those
trolleys should be made to carry us and our goods to some inhabited
region, be it friendly or inimical. That day and the next we spent
racing down and crawling up the gradients of the line to Niangtzekwan.
The "Dare-to-dies" boasted of having mined the line, and this did not
conduce to ease of mind in being the first to travel over it, especially
when we rushed through long tunnels. The line is one which taxed the
ingenuity of engineers to the utmost in its construction, and is one
succession of light bridges spanning deep chasms, tunnels, and long
gradients. Luckily for us, we were travelling in the downhill direction,
else our journey had been impossible. If the brave "Dare-to-dies" were
too hurried to leave the line mined, they had taken time to destroy it
in some places, and once a broken-down engine blocked our path. The
fleeing soldiers had found the engine-driver preparing to take in water,
but they would have none of his lagging ways, and compelling him to
drive ahead, were soon forced to abandon the useless locomotive. Each
such obstacle was a lengthy hindrance, and the kind gentlemen of our
party were obliged to organise a breakdown gang to overcome the
difficulty. Our trolleys, with all the baggage, had to be transferred to
another line. Effort and energy were not spared, and the following
midday brought us face to face with the first engine carrying Imperial
soldiery towards Taiyueanfu. At Niangtzekwan Pass we were under the
Dragon flag once more. The houses of the foreigners there were
completely wrecked, and my recollection of that place is a land of
feathers, contents of the beds of the Frenchmen who had left their
homes, and would return to find nothing but a heap of ruins and a litter
of broken glass, china, and furniture, smothered in feathers and
presenting a sad wreckage of what had once been a home. That evening we
reached an inn where food--warm, satisfying food--was to be had, and
twenty-four hours later we steamed into Tientsin station, greeted by a
hearty cheer from a friendly group, for we had been missing and untraced
since we left Yutze.
CHANGED CONDITIONS
"The Master said: The people may be made to follow
a path of action, but they may not be made to
understand it."--CONFUCIUS.
"I have seen a Chinese graduate of a Western
university, dressed in proper Western clothes, in
his dress-suit, with an opera hat crushed under
his arm, beseeching the goddess of mercy in her
temple, with many rich gifts, to give him a male
child."--Rev. C. SCOTT.
"From time to time Jesus was offered a place in
the Pantheon, but Christianity perceived that the
Pantheon was the place for dead gods."--Dr. JOHN
HUTTON.