LI YUAN HUNG SEEKS PEACE
"Don't hesitate--act!" wrote Li Yuan Hung to Yuan Shih K'ai, in a
most stirring appeal to Yuan to join the Revolutionary party. Yuan
had been, as ever, as hard as adamant. He now claimed to have an
army twenty-four thousand strong at his disposal. Li claimed to have
at least forty thousand of all sorts, trained and untrained. Li was
in a conciliatory mood. Yuan was suffering from a peculiar "sense
of" omnipotence that had attacked him ever since his return to
office. "Since the slaughter of the reformers," wrote Li Yuan Hung
to his adversary, "the Government has continually promised to
establish constitutional rule and to bring forward the date for the
calling of the first Parliament, but its promises have come to
naught. The assassination of Erh Ming and Fuchi, the attempt to
destroy the vice-regal yamen at Canton with a bomb, and the mutiny at
Nanking were all bloody protests against the Manchu monarchy, but all
failed to induce the Throne to do more than issue edicts full of
promises. Everything remains as it was. The Manchu Government has
tried various tricks to gain a hold on the people's hearts. But it
has no real intention of altering the system of government. Turn
your eyes towards those who are presidents of the various boards and
viceroys and governors of provinces, and you will see that all the
principal posts are occupied by Manchus. What an insignificant part
the Chinese have played in politics! The national {104} treasury,
and the national army are the foundations of the Empire, and both are
in the grasp of ignorant, childish Manchus. Surely you cannot bear
with composure to see the property and lives of four hundred millions
of Chinese wasted by a mere handful of Manchus."
The letter continued: "Are you not the most famous and most able man
among the Chinese? Have you forgotten that, after you had been
relieved of your command of the northern troops and your political
influence had been weakened, you narrowly escaped being murdered as
well as cashiered? All this is evidence of the Manchu's jealousy of
the Chinese. Since Hupeh was made independent, many other provinces
have joined the cause with heart and soul. The Manchu Government has
fallen into a swoon and can no longer stand by its own strength. So
it is trying the scheme by which it quelled the Taiping
rebellion--using Chinese to kill Chinese. If you are willing to be
reinstated on such a commission, then you have superhuman patience.
"In your dispatch you state emphatically that the Government must be
constitutional. In reply I wish to explain that in this age, whether
a government be monarchical or republican, it must ultimately be
founded on constitutionalism, and there is little difference between
a republic and a constitutional monarchy. The form of the new
government will be settled in the conference of delegates from the
various provinces. Whatever form it takes, it will not violate
constitutionalism. It is generally agreed among the people that the
Manchus must not be allowed to have any voice in this conference. If
we had agreed to your terms, had you any means of compelling the
Manchu Government to fulfil its promises?
"For you to live in retirement for your own enjoyment as you have
done is of no benefit to China. The success of the present movement
has come by the {105} strength not of man but of God. What man could
convert Szechuan, Kiangsi, Anhui, Kiangsu, Kwangtung, Kwangsi,
Yunnan, Kweichow, Shansi, and Shensi to republicanism? Besides all
the gunboats and torpedo destroyers have turned revolutionary. There
is no Manchu force to hinder us from marching on Peking with the
exception of your little army. The renaissance of the Chinese and
the maintenance of China's sovereignty depend on you. If you are
really in sympathy with the Chinese, you should take your opportunity
to turn Republican with your troops and attack Peking. If you are
hankering after the dignities and honours that the Manchu Government
may confer, then you should pray that the revolutionary army may
hasten its march to the Yellow River. For, when the Manchus see that
they cannot withstand the revolutionary advance, they will give you
all the higher honours to induce you to fight for them. If we should
yield now, it is to be feared that the honours bestowed on you would
vanish in a few days. Remember the proverb, 'When the rabbits are
caught the hounds are cooked.' Your merit would be so great that you
would not avoid jealousy, and your power would make you liable to
constant suspicion. It would be impossible for you to retire again
to Changtehfu. I would remind you that the Empress Dowager is still
living and that she will never forgive the slaughter of the
reformers. Consider if there is any affection between yourself and
the Manchus. All of us, working together can complete the
emancipation of the Chinese, and none of us are willing to continue
under the rule of the Manchus.
"As to your suggestion that foreign Powers may seize this opportunity
of bringing about the partition of China we have read many articles
from foreign papers, and we feel sure that none of them will do us
any harm during our civil war. We have learned from a wireless
telegram to a certain gentleman that {106} Peking is in great
agitation and that the young Emperor has fled. Should this be true,
the ruling race has already lost its dignity and has no right to
present our territory to any foreign Power.
"It is reported that the Manchu Government has recalled you. If that
is so, I offer two suggestions for your consideration. First: It may
be that the Government suspects your loyalty and intends by recalling
you to deprive you of your military authority; in that case, you may
disobey the summons by virtue of the military rule that a general
need not obey an imperial edict when he is on service abroad.
Second: If Peking is actually in a critical condition--I must tell
you a story. During the Boxer rising, when the international force
entered Peking, they summoned Li Hung-chang. That was an opportunity
for Li to become Emperor. But he was stubborn and lost the chance.
You may learn from his experience. Mencius said that a man with
complete education will protect the people. I am but a military man
and do not know much. I have learned largely from Mencius, so that I
have no desire except to protect the people. It is believed that
your experience and ability are much higher than mine. Yet I am
sorry for you that you have to consider things so very long before
you can make up your mind. Remember that we should not hesitate or
delay in doing what is benevolent or righteous. We should do the
right thing at once.
"All the brethren of this land are waiting for you. Do not face me
any longer with a mask."
* * * * *
This was Li Yuan Hung's last appeal to Yuan. All along Li had been
anxious to avoid further bloodshed, but it soon became evident that
the fight was to be to the bitter end. So after that short-lived
lull, foreigners, with their trade quite paralysed, settled down
again for war. About the Concessions, in the clubs, {107} in the
houses, in the godowns, wherever foreigners congregated there was a
feeling of deadening suspense hanging over all. That something
terrible was about to happen every one agreed, but what no one cared
to guess. In the native city, what of it was left, the abject
desolation which the charred ruins and half-burned-up streets and
shops presented to one, where a cold and hungry lot of people were
endeavouring all too vainly to revivify trade, sunk into one's very
being. One was glad, if he thus unwisely ventured far from the
Concessions, to get back again and to walk along the Bund and look
out over the unruffled river and hope for better times to come.
There was no shipping, no life, no trade. The Concessions were in
practically a state of siege, and all were waiting--for what, again,
we knew not. All that one had to trouble about was the time that the
mails closed and the time the boats were going down-river.
The Imperialists now commenced to draw a cordon around the city of
Hankow. They were busy trenching, were busy building up their
batteries on the plains from the end of the Sing Sien Road to the
banks of the Han, the way to cross which they could not easily
determine. No one was allowed out of the city or into the city
unless he had his pass and could give reasonable cause for wanting to
go either way. Every man, woman, or child without a pass was cruelly
turned back, often with a thrust of the bayonet as a warning not to
attempt it again. Foreigners who ventured out of the Concessions
were deliberately shot at.
On November 13th the heaviest bombardment that had yet taken place
started suddenly in the late afternoon, but for some time it was a
puzzle whether it was meant to be a bombardment of the British
Concession or of Hankow native city and Wuchang opposite. Shells
were dropping quite as often in British as in Chinese territory. The
night was drenching and dreary. Rain {108} poured down and
overflowed the flat battlefield behind the Concessions and the native
city, and the luck of the Imperialists seemed out. Their spirits in
the circumstances were damped by the weather, and the fight they were
putting up against the high-spirited Hunanese, now augmenting the
Revolutionary forces to the tune of fifteen thousand men, was but
weak and half-hearted. The shells could be heard in the peculiar
atmospheric deadness, which the forsaken appearance of the river
seemed to accentuate, sailing through the air above our heads, the
excited natives would yell and swear that they could see them and
that they were coming directly to the spot where we were watching in
the rain, and then would scamper off. Far away in the Concessions
people were wondering why the Revolutionists had started shelling the
British. Now the trouble seemed to have come indeed, and many wished
they had left the port when they had the chance. Holes were being
knocked through heavy walls, shells dropped in the roadway, in
people's gardens, in people's bedrooms. A Russian naval officer, in
a sick-bed in the Roman Catholic Hospital, wishing that he were well
to watch the bombardment, lay probing for the reason the
Revolutionists had taken this dislike to the British, and wondering
what would happen after the British gunboats had smashed up the
place. He could find no satisfactory reason. But suddenly this
naval officer heard a crash; like a bolt of lightning a shell had
entered the window; he felt the plaster of the walls striking him on
the body as he lay there stupefied, watching the ceiling then falling
in. It was the thirteenth shell that had come into the hospital
compound since the war started, and over it waved peacefully the Red
Cross flag.
In the London Mission Hospital, not far away, a shell came through an
open window, hitting nothing but landing in the yard. The Mitsui
Bussan Kaisha {109} shipping manager was looking up at his building
and wondering what damage one shell had done as it struck and
shattered some masonry and woodwork, but he found it wise to move,
for another shell suddenly landed not twelve yards from him, tore an
ugly hole in the roadway, and then feebly burst against the walls.
On the British gunboats lying in the river they had got used to
seeing shells fall short in the river, but one of the fellows on
H.M.S. _Woodcock_, in giving impressive vent to his low opinion of
the Revolutionary shelling, explained to me that he didn't mind the
shells so much, but just at the moment when one broke he was sitting
on the deck reading a book which had been loaned to him; the
splashing of the water had spoiled the book, for a shell dropped not
three feet from the bow! Fellows would come running in telling how
they had seen shells bursting all along the streets in the British
Concession, and as evidence thereof would draw huge pieces from their
pockets, "all hot" as they would declare. So this continued hotly
for a couple of hours. The Imperialists at the back, with their
three big guns on Coffin Hill (a mound at the back of the British
Concession), did their best to quiet the enemy, but their efforts at
getting rid of the shells were about one in six. That the
Revolutionists were in great form was manifest at once by the work
they were doing, but their shells did far more damage to foreign
property than to their enemy's ranks; but although the time had
surely come when the British authorities should have made a
determined effort to stop this sort of thing nothing was enforced.
Thus the battle continued for four days. The heaviest artillery work
went on from all directions, but the heavy rains interfered with
infantry work. The cannonading was desperate. At night, in the
dense darkness, the scene was intensely fascinating. One, two,
three, four guns would send out their tiny flames from one spot all
in a heap; this would be followed {110} by a heavier gun, with its
brighter flash momentarily lighting up the whole vicinity, the
peculiar whistle of the threatening bomb would come nearer and
nearer, and all the time one's fascination was hampered by this
menace. Not often is it that foreigners in a strange land have war
brought to their very rooftops to watch. But such was the case now,
and from flat roofs foreigners in small parties breathlessly watched
the proceedings. Over the country, among the plains and the lagoons,
one could hear rifle-firing, and knew that somewhere in the dark
Chinese were doing their best to lay low Chinese, but where no one
could say. In the face of awful riflery the Revolutionists succeeded
in crossing the Han, recaptured Chiaokow, which had been a stronghold
of the enemy for some days, and were bringing a battery of field-guns
near to the Chinese Racecourse, where their enemy had been strongly
entrenched awaiting the assault, and working meantime towards the
Han. After having captured Chiaokow, the Revolutionists fortified a
well-covered spot with three three-inchers, and began pounding away
whilst the Sing Seng Road Imperialist battery did some excellent
shelling of the Racecourse (Chinese), which they had lost to the
enemy. Heavy reinforcements then were sent outflanking widely,
whilst the Revolutionists endeavoured to cross over and cut them off.
Those days were devilish days. Such heavy infantry, at a range of a
hundred yards or so, each opposing line fighting with its very
lifeblood to force back the enemy, could never have happened anywhere
but in China. The ring of the Maxim was a constant sound, and the
stream of bleeding wounded constantly in the Foreign Concessions told
only too sadly of the heavy losses incurred to both armies. And
after all the net result of each day's fighting seemed to be of no
advantage to either force.
The most thrilling incident of the war took place on November 19th.
Because we have been repeatedly {111} told that the Chinese are
cowards, we Westerners have come to look on them as a half-hearted
sort of fighters. Some decades ago people used to think the same of
the Japanese, but, equally as they showed us through their war with
Russia that their courage merely lay dormant, so the Chinese
constantly showed us throughout this war of the Revolution that their
courage was as great and as unflinching as one could imagine in any
people.
Those who had been watching closely had seen some wonderful examples
of heroism, not only by the soldiery but private citizens had shown
splendid heroism in many ways and devotedness to a cause they thought
worthy of fighting for.
Many of the Imperialists were said to be fighting merely because some
of their favourite officers were commanding them, and in the killing
of a general on the field I personally saw no less than four men shot
dead on the spot as they went forward two by two to bring him in
under cover. All through this war many cases of exceptional bravery
came under my notice, giving one cause to credit the Chinese with
greater patriotism than is wont to be given them, and altering
altogether the general impression that the Chinese as a people are
cowards. This crowning piece of bravery, to which nothing else in
the campaign can in any way compare, took place on November 19th, and
will long be remembered by the thick line of Europeans and Chinese
who had flocked to the Bund to watch the Chinese naval movement. For
some days there had been talk that the Chinese Fleet had turned over
their lot with the Revolutionists, and when in the morning its smoke
was seen on the skyline and every one strained his eyes to see where
they would go and what they would do, each having his own particular
theory as to the probabilities of the day, it was an anxious time,
for so much seemed to hang on the movements of the navy. During the
whole of the {112} morning the two cruisers and one torpedo-boat lay
at anchor, neither interfering or being interfered with. Their smoke
funnels in the haze certainly showed that they were there; but as to
what the programme was no one knew, and towards midday one began to
doubt what they would do, and whether actually they had come to fight
for the Revolutionists or against them.
Upon the navy in the first great engagement at Kilometre Ten lay the
honours of the day, for no man could stand against its guns, and all
knew that the side to be pounded were in for an extremely heavy
bombardment, which would probably easily spell the total failure of
the enemy. Therefore, when the big two-funnelled _Hai Yung_ raised
anchor about two o'clock and began majestically to steam full speed
up-river, it was not curious to find every one tiptoeing in
expectancy. What was she going to do? Was she drawing up nearer to
bombard Wuchang or was she coming peacefully away to be fired upon by
the strong Loyalist battery on the Kilometre Ten line? Slowly she
came at first, then steamed full away. Through my glasses I could
see her flag--the Revolutionary flag--yet when she came within the
battery's firing-line no guns were opened upon her. The Imperial
gunners could be seen watching her movements through their glasses,
as on she steamed close in to the Wuchang side. Gradually she came
proudly abreast of the Kinshan forts, then farther up, and farther,
until at last she was abreast of the Japanese Bund line, and out of
danger. Certainly it seemed strange that the Imperialists did not
attempt to shell her; but they didn't, and away she went up past
Wuchang, dipping to the foreign gunboats, and above the Concessions
turned to rest. Meantime the other cruiser had cleared off
down-river, and all that remained was the solitary torpedo-boat. It
was now her turn, and she, thinking that the larger boat had found no
opposition, evidently expected to sail up {113} clear too. But she
had misreckoned, for as soon as she began to steam the Royalists
opened furiously upon her.
Shell after shell from the three-inch guns were poured around her,
shells dropping about her as peas would drop if one threw a handful
in the air, and she seemed doomed. But in the thick of the
batteries, within excellent range, with no cover and no hope of
getting clear, she had nothing to do but to keep ahead; and this she
did as hard as her panting engines would take her. As hard as coal
would steam her she steamed, and for the quarter of an hour during
which she was under fire nothing nobler could be imagined than the
behaviour of her crew as they brought her up. In front of her,
behind her, falling short of her, shooting far over her came the
shells at the rate of one in three seconds; they whistled around her,
some hit her minor deckwork and glanced into the water; one was seen
to hit her square on the bows, another hit her aft and damaged her
steam gear; but, fleeing from what seemed her death-trap, she steamed
desperately on. On the Bund the Chinese watched in bewilderment.
Such a thing they had never seen before. Some of them were looking
on a Chinese torpedo-boat in action for the first time, and a grunt
of keenest satisfaction went up as she came abreast of foreign
territory and the Imperial guns ceased fire. All the time, however,
the Kinshan forts, at equally rapid a rate as the Kilometre Ten
battery, kept up the return bombardment upon the Imperial base, and
there must have been some heavy damage--what it was impossible to
tell.
But now the torpedo is up opposite the Concessions, and, slowing
down, seems to take breath before she puts in alongside the shore and
drops anchor for a time. The crew tend their wounded comrades, the
hilarious men shout and yell and tell each other how it was done, and
urge each other on with patriotic sentiment.
{114}
It was a magnificent piece of work--quite remarkable in its way, for
at the point where she was hugging the Wuchang shore there is an
exceptionally strong current running, so that her difficulties were
thus considerably increased. Foreign naval men who watched the
cannonading declared that they had never witnessed anything quite so
courageous, and as one gazed on it the fact that China is a peculiar
country and the people a peculiar people was slowly borne in upon one
as he realised that all this bravery was being put forward by men who
a month ago had fought against the cause to which they were now so
faithfully espoused. What the mission of the armoured cruiser, still
lying farther up the river, might have been I do not know, but she
was now seen to move and make for down-river again, and one fancied
that one could see anger writ large upon her iron sides. Quickly I
doubled to take up a position on the top of a huge heap of coal,
below the Concessions, from which I had a commanding view of the
river and the whole of Kilometre Ten Station. Down came the cruiser
close inshore on the Hankow side, and it seemed curious that she
should have come so close. Down she came in a businesslike fashion,
seeming to gird herself for the onslaught. Every one held his
breath. Foreign men-of-warsmen admired all that she was doing, and
the gunners on board were itching to open fire. As soon as she
dropped down beyond the Concessions they did open, and then, as
quickly as one could count, she fired her six big guns--four six-inch
bore. The first two shells dropped bang inside the station at
Kilometre Ten, the next three fell in among the battery on the
foreshore, the next few--they came so quick that I lost count--set
some buildings burning. The Imperial batteries, with indomitable
bravado, returned as briskly as they could. The Kinshan forts sent
over strong cross-fires. On farther went the _Hai Yung_, seeming
like a big brother to tell the Imperialists that her little brother
had been hit and now her turn had {115} come to do the hitting. And
this she certainly did. Whether she hit the things she aimed at I do
not know, but I know that she literally rained in shells among the
enemy's batteries.
In the deepening half-light the flashes brilliantly lit up the deck,
and as the bursting shells dropped they lit up the yellow of the
water with a peculiar grotesqueness. Over the head of the cruiser
came shells from Kinshan, and with the _Hai Yung_ shelling as fast as
she could discharge her guns, with the Imperial three-inchers working
as hard as the men could work them, and the Revolutionary battery
over across sending shells from four guns, and each party fired with
that spirit which in war makes men work with superhuman activity, it
may well be imagined that the triple bombardment was something that
had never been seen in the Yangtze Valley before. Chinese were
jumping with excitement the whole way along the Bund, and the Sabbath
peace was broken by a scene which will long remain vividly in the
memories of those fortunate enough to be on the spot at the time. As
for myself, my position on the coalheap was as good as it was
possible to get. I was anxious to get down to Kilometre Ten to see
what damage had been done, but I was informed that on no
consideration whatever would any foreigner be allowed outside the
barrier. Another engagement was expected that night, the guard told
me, and so I came away. Meantime the _Hai Yung_ had dropped
down-river out of the range of the Imperialist guns, where she still
pounded away with shells that fell in the vicinity of the station.
The reason that she had been allowed to come up-river unmolested was
because the Imperialists had not recognised her flag, mistaking her
for a foreign man-of-war. When the darkness came on and the
flashlights from the warships lit up the Concessions and the
surrounding neighbourhood, it was slowly borne in upon one that the
Chinese War of the Revolution was by no means {116} overpast.
Fighting in the land lines continued all night.
* * * * *
During these days Li Yuan Hung remained at Wuchang; here drilling was
going on feverishly. There was organising and preparing for the
great effort which was to strike at the central stronghold of the
Imperialists. But in Li's heart there was the hope still that Yuan
would show a more reasonable front. I was in close touch with Li
about this time. Every one who saw him daily, looked upon a man,
definite to a degree in aim and purpose, free from
self-aggrandisement and selfishness in any form. His aim first and
last was to uplift his country, to win the throne for the Han people,
and to work with all his might for the downfall of Manchu rule, for
by that alone, he believed, could China forge ahead as such a mighty
nation deserved and as her brightest sons desired that she should.
And now, although others declared that in the new Republican party
there would be dissension and strife when the Government were brought
down to a concrete basis, General Li Yuan Hung declared that he had
sufficient faith in the cause to believe that all his political
associates, far from desiring personal benefit, would readily concede
the highest positions to the men best fitted to fill them. That was
the keynote of Li Yuan Hung's popularity; he believed in the cause,
and he had faith in his supporters. When at the start he refused to
take the lead, and, essentially Chinese, tried all sorts of schemes
to test the safety of his position, he nobly declared what his policy
whilst in office would be. He declared that he would set out to
work, at all costs and no matter what the personal consequences, for
a course that would be straight and true for China and the Chinese.
He declared his ambition would first be concentrated in the
overthrowing of the Manchus; what subsequently {117} would be his
course was to be decided mainly by the trend of resulting
circumstances. At the gathering of the officers of the Revolutionary
party, who were anxious to make him their leader, I do not think
there was a single man present, even Liu King, who, looking into the
future as far as he then could see, thought that in less than a month
this Japanese-trained officer of the Hupeh Army, with nothing about
him to strike one that he was a born leader of men, would have come
to the very forefront of the platform of the political world. Liu
King certainly did not believe Li Yuan Hung had so much in him.
It was believed--was there one foreigner in the three cities here who
thought otherwise at the very start of the outbreak?--that the
Revolution would break out, that the Imperial Army would come down in
great force and massacre every manjack in the Revolutionary Army, and
that that would be the end of it all. At the start there were so
many thousands, not only in this centre but throughout the Empire,
who were merely neutral, who were sitting on the fence, prepared to
dive down either side at the moment it paid them to take the dive.
But the men of the Revolutionary Army were confident. The units of
the army knew that they had Li at the head, they knew that Li had
always had the name of being the best man in the Hupeh Model Army,
although he was not in supreme command, and they were content to
fight under him. There was in all circles, however, except the
military circle, a good deal of scepticism. Every one was on the
look-out for sensations. No one knew what would happen, and no one
cared to guess. But behind it all stood Li, looking on and seeing
all. He had sworn allegiance to his party, and he expected his party
to stand by him. He was the man who believed in the scheme he was
prepared to pull through, and he believed in the men who were pulling
with him. Yuan Shih K'ai doubted him, his ability, his political
party, and thought them a set of upstarts. {118} Therefore was it
that he would not listen to their talk, and took their pleading with
him to join their party as a sign of weakness. But Yuan, though he
had made few political mistakes himself, never committed a bigger
blunder than this. For the time he was prepared to hold aloof, and
to fight on still, rather than take the cue of his adversary in
battle and give up fighting for a lost cause.
The situation as it concerned foreigners in the Concessions was now
most acute. Everybody was abusing the Consuls. Around the
Concessions, mad with rage and neither side entertaining any
bewildering affection for foreigners, were sixty thousand troops.
The French community, tired of talking, so it seemed, took the bull
by the horns and wired to the French Government over the head of
their Consul, and that the same spirit actuated the greater part of
the international population here will be judged from what comes
hereafter. The French residents telegraphed from Hankow to Paris as
follows:--
"French colony and others under the jurisdiction of the French
consulate request me to ask you to communicate the following to
the Minister of Foreign Affairs: We consider that we are now in a
critical situation. In consequence of the departure of cruisers,
the international landing force is reduced to five hundred
marines. We are surrounded by sixty thousand belligerents. All
is to be feared from the Imperialist troops if abandoned to
themselves, or undisciplined Revolutionary troops. We are at the
mercy of every anti-foreign movement. Insist on immediate
dispatch of troops from Tientsin or Tonking."
A week previous a message was sent from Hankow by a high British
authority--to be fair to the British Acting Consul-General, he did
not know that the message was sent away--telling the world that with
us all was well, and the next week the French people here wired to
their Government, ignoring the representative here of the French
nation, asking that troops be sent forthwith. Throughout the war up
to the present time {119} the Concessions had been sufficiently
manned with troops to prevent an onslaught by either army. When the
first big battle started there seemed to be excellent defence as the
situation then was, but, whilst the scene of action was moving
constantly down at the back of the Concessions towards the native
city and danger each day becoming greater, no one believed it
possible that the Consular Body were taking no steps to ensure
efficient protection of foreign subjects and their interests here.
When the Loyalist big guns were at the back of the Concession
(British as they continued up to the taking of Hanyang) not until the
local Press drew forceful attention to the fact that the British
Acting Consul-General owed it to the British community to get the
guns removed, and thus save the returning fire of the enemy being
drawn into the Concession, was there any action taken. Again and
again was indignation shown at the "face" the British were losing
with the Chinese over the matter; but it seemed not to disturb
consular authorities. Protest was made--once only, I believe--and
the promise then was given that the guns should be shifted. But the
promise was broken, and for weeks one heard the constant boom of the
biggest gun the Imperialists had with them pounding away not three
hundred yards from the British Concession border, in precisely the
same position as the Loyalist officers promised King George's
representative it should be shifted from. And in addition to that,
on November 17th they again took up their old position with a battery
at Tachimen, from which position they were also asked to remove, thus
having wilfully ignored all British requests.
A study of the map of the field will show immediately that the
position of the Concessions was, to say the least, eminently
dangerous. The main battery behind the Concessions had guns pointing
towards Wuchang, naturally drawing the Wuchang fire, shells from
which dropped more often {120} in the Concession than out of it when
the aim was taken for Coffin Hill battery; it also had guns pointing
to Hanyang, drawing that return fire, which had the gravest
probability of falling over the Concession border. I should think
that a mild estimate of shells dropped in the Concessions during that
week would be one hundred. But there was another danger: in their
flanking movement the Revolutionists were endeavouring to shell the
Coffin Hill battery, meaning at once that their shells were fired,
not by the sides of the Concessions but bang into them. There was
another danger still: the Imperialists, if they were driven back,
would undoubtedly make for the Concessions, and flee through them.
"It's not human nature," as the British Acting-Consul said a day or
two before to a British subject, "to expect the Revolutionists not to
chase them."
It may easily be left to the reader to answer for himself whether a
complement of five hundred troops--the maximum of a defence force
that could be mustered from the gunboats that moment in the
port--could hold the port against this grave possibility. It was
surely not too much for international subjects to ask of their
Consuls that troops be sent for and that a fair defence scheme be
inaugurated forthwith for the protection of their lives and their
property. Again, however, I should like to say that I am not writing
in any carping spirit. I am among those who, far from anathematising
or criticising, and remembering that it is the easiest thing in the
world to ridicule, realise that at such times of crisis in China each
Consul should be supported by every loyal subject. But it certainly
seemed to me that the consular body--not one individual only, but the
whole body--by its continued inaction rendered foreigners in Hankow a
bad account of what they were there for. One could easily write up
what the soldiery might have done if they once had run riot in the
Concession, and such an eventuality {121} to those who know their
China is not without the range of what easily could have transpired;
but it would be sensational and probably useless.
Now, when the French residents of Hankow telegraphed to Paris
demanding that troops be sent forthwith from Tientsin or Tonking
hands went up in horror that French consular control had so far got
into disrepair as to bring about such a step. But when the British
residents almost immediately followed suit it became patent that the
situation was serious. Foreigners from the Japanese Concession
(farthest removed from the native city of Hankow) to the British
Concession (divided from the city by a thirty-foot road) were just
then in greater direct danger than they had been since the campaign
started. Five weeks had now elapsed since the war started, and on
November 18th I think I am right in saying that not one-half of the
protecting force was in the port, at the zenith of the danger, that
was available a week after the Revolution broke out. That five
hundred men available from all gunboats in port, with the Japanese
largely preponderating, were enough to protect a settlement of
approximately rectangular shape, four miles by one, was absurd on the
very face of things. Four thousand men from all nations represented
would not have been too many at that time. When hostilities were
being carried on immediately outside the Concessions, when every day
a man was shot fatally or wounded seriously in the streets of the
British Concession, when shells dropped with startling rapidity into
private houses and broke up the property of British residents, when
the gravest danger was incurred by walking along the waterfront which
extends the whole length of the Concession, when all shipping had to
withdraw from the usual landing hulks, and when the official protests
to remove the batteries from dangerous proximity back of the
Concessions and so cause shelling over the foreign settlement to
cease was persistently refused, surely, {122} again, it was not too
much to expect that the authorities were making due arrangements for
troops to be sent to Hankow to prevent what every one undertook to
believe would be inevitable--namely, the rushing through the
Concessions of the enemy and the chasing of them by the victorious
faction. The whole thing culminated on November 18th, when a meeting
of British subjects was held. The following dispatch was the result
of a long discussion on the general situation and what was best to be
done:--
"HERBERT GOFFE, Esq., H.B.M. Acting Consul-General, Hankow.
"SIR,--We the undersigned British residents beg respectfully that
you will forward the following protest to His Majesty's Minister
with a request that it be forwarded to the proper authorities:
1. "The _London and China Express_ of October 20 says, It is
officially stated that the policy of Great Britain in the present
situation in China will be limited to taking every means
considered necessary for the protection of the lives and the
property of her nationals.'
"Whilst adequate protection had apparently been afforded to
British subjects in Tientsin and Shanghai, in our opinion the
reverse was the case in Hankow. This is proved by the fact that
at the time when the British Vice-Admiral himself was in chief
command of all forces at Hankow, his own sailors, and the local
Volunteers and Police were insufficient properly to guard the
British Concession, and the kind assistance of the Germans,
Japanese, French, and Austrians was accepted. Since then the
situation had become infinitely more dangerous, and it was found
that protection was reduced absolutely to a minimum and the force
of British gunboats was just what foreigners were accustomed to
see in port in normal times. This argues that the situation was
wrongly gauged by those in authority, and if information which
was at their disposal had been obtained or listened to, this
should not have occurred.
2. "We protest against the action taken by the authorities in
forwarding a wireless message to Shanghai on or about the 17th
November stating that "there had been no fighting here for some
days," and "that business was being resumed," as reported in the
_North China Daily News_ of the 9th November and the _Shanghai
Mercury_ of 8th November respectively. Our reasons for so doing
are that both statements are untrue, and that by sending such a
message they have caused endless ill-feeling to the British Flag
and disgust at an action which causes women and children to
return here when it is undoubtedly {123} unsafe for them to do
so. So far from there being no fighting, fighting of a desultory
nature and sniping have continued ever since the main action, on
the 27th-28th October, and numerous bullets and shells continue
daily to fall into the Concession. Although foreigners have so
far escaped, numbers of Chinese in the Concession have been
killed or wounded, and property damaged. As regards business
being resumed, it has been at a standstill since the Revolution
started.
3. "With the ordinary telegraphic communication completely cut
off, we protest against the Admiralty regulations which do not
allow the forwarding of important non-service messages by
wireless for British subjects in circumstances of this
description. On several occasions messages refused by
Vice-Admiral Winsloe have been courteously received and
dispatched by wireless by the German Admiral. We consider that
these protests are only right and just, as we cannot for a minute
believe that His Majesty's Government know the true state of
affairs, and that in the present crisis British prestige and
British interests have been sadly neglected. Finally, although
this is hardly within the province of the British residents of
Hankow, we would like to point out that at the present moment
Ichang and Changsha are equally ill-protected. The urgent
necessity for the dispatch of troops to this port is emphasised
by the fact that heaviest fighting is now taking place and shells
are bursting over our heads. The situation is most critical, and
it is sincerely to be hoped that not only the British
authorities, but the American, the German, the French, and
Russian Consular bodies will see to it that as many gunboats as
can reasonably be spared from the China squadrons be brought here
at once. The Japanese, the only other nation having a
Concession, may be relied upon to leave nothing undone."
[Illustration: TOMMY ATKINS ON GUARD. A detachment of the Yorkshire
Light Infantry protecting the Foreign Settlement at Hankow.]
The following telegram was authorised to be sent to the British
Minister at Peking and the Foreign Office:---
"Mass meeting British residents Hankow considers battalion
urgently necessary protection British Concession--Pearce,
Chairman."
A similar telegram was authorised to be sent to the China Association
in London, asking the Association to urge the Government to send the
help asked for. There were ninety-five British residents present at
the meeting.
* * * * *
Comment upon the foregoing would only be odious {124} just now. By
reproducing the correspondence, however, the reader will be able to
ascertain the feelings of the British community when such persistent
official indolence continued. Had the armies got out of hand, there
might have been a much sadder story to tell.
[Illustration: THE SKETCH MAP OF THE BATTLEFIELDS.]
It is necessary, in presenting the accompanying sketch map of the
battlefields, to give some concise information descriptive of the
sketch. The following written by my friend Mr. Stanley V. Boxer,
B.Sc., will therefore be found of especial interest:--
"The first battle of any importance occurred on October the 18th.
On that occasion the gunboats decided the issue. The
Revolutionists were entrenched behind the Foreign Racecourse, and
in the afternoon made an attack toward Kilometre Ten. In
advancing, they were exposed to a cross fire from the cruisers.
They fell back again on the Racecourse. Next day, however, the
gunboats retired, and the Revolutionists, taking advantage of
their absence, gained a victory, capturing some truckloads of
ammunition, &c. The loyalist army retired to Nie K'ou, to wait
arrival of reinforcements from the north.
"A week now elapsed without further fighting. But the battle
which resulted in the fall of Hankow commenced on October the
27th. The Revolutionists somewhat tamely allowed the bridges
between Kilometre Ten and Nie K'ou to be captured. They
retreated on their base, Kilometre Ten. A few well-directed
shots from the gunboats, which had come up to participate in the
fight, caused a second retreat. The Imperials advanced steadily
along the back of the Concessions reaching Ta Chi Men Station.
The Revolutionists retook this position but were again driven
back. They fell back on Sin Shen Road, and fought bravely for
three days, during which the road changed hands several times.
On October 30th, also, there was a good deal of fighting between
the Malu, at the back of Hankow, and the railway embankment. On
Tuesday, October 31st, the Revolutionists gained a slight
advantage, driving the Imperialists back along the railway line.
Next day, Wednesday, November 1st, commenced the burning of
Hankow. The Imperials had brought up their 3-in. guns to the Ta
Chi Men crossing, about a quarter of a mile nearer Hankow than
the station and placed them on the railway. From this position
they shelled the city, about two thirds of which was destroyed
this day and the day following. Though the city was in ashes
however, frequent fighting took place in its ruined streets,
greatly endangering the safety of foreigners on the Concessions.
This desultory fighting went on till the fall of Hanyang.
Nothing of much importance, however, occurred till November 17th.
"Much of the sharpest fighting occurred round the Waterworks.
The gunners on the Heh Shan were kept very busy. The works
themselves changed hands several times. On November 17th, the
Revolutionists made a determined attempt to drive back the enemy.
In the early morning they were across the Han in force, and
advanced inwards from the Viceroy's embankment in one large
crescent, stretching from near Ch'aeo K'ou to three miles on the
other side of the Griffith John College. They even advanced as
far as the Chinese Racecourse, but later in the day were forced
to retreat.
"It should have been stated that the Imperials had moved out
their guns to positions along the extension of the Sin Shen Road,
while they had placed three very heavy guns on 'Coffin Hill.'
From these guns, Tortoise Hill, Mei Tzu Shan, and Heh Shan, were
in easy range, and constant bombardment ensued.
"But fresh hope was brought to the Revolutionists by the turning
over of the fleet to the Republican side. On Sunday, November
19th, occurred that memorable engagement, when the torpedo boat
ran the gauntlet, and the cruiser punished the Imperial batteries
along the foreshore between the Japanese Concession and the
Yangtse Engineering Works. In consequence, these batteries were
very much strengthened, as shown in the map.
"At this time the capture of Nanking was momently expected, and
the Imperials, realising that, if Hanyang was to be captured, it
must be immediately, did all in their power to take the place. A
party of three thousand set off from Siao Kan for Ch'ait'ien,
intending to approach Hanyang from behind. What became of this
detachment is uncertain, but it would appear that they were
defeated. Their project was never realized.
"But the Imperials determined on another course. They managed to
cross the Han at T'u Lu K'ou. Five large shrapnel guns were
brought up to the Viceroy's embankment, two about a quarter of a
mile from the Griffith John College. A heavy fire was directed
toward the four hills on the other side of the Han, which formed
the key to Hanyang. A battery, placed on the waist of the hills
opposite the College replied. As the College was in direct line
of fire, considerable damage was done. The Imperials, owing to a
very swift creek, were unable to proceed down the side of the
Han. They had therefore to cross the creek at San-Yen Ch'iao
(Three-eyed Bridge), and take the four hills. Judging from the
number of patients brought into Hanyang during the days of this
fighting (November 21st-26th), and from the number of graves seen
on a subsequent visit, very heavy fighting must have been carried
on here. The hills were well adapted for defence, being covered
with quarries, but ammunition on the Republican side was poor.
The hills were eventually taken, though one at least was retaken.
The whole time, the Revolutionists were assailed from two sides,
from the Griffith John College battery, and from the Imperials on
the north-west.
"It would appear that on Sunday, November 26th, began the
evacuation. On Saturday, the Mei Tzu Shan battery had been
silenced. On Sunday evening the Imperials effected a crossing
between the Heh Shan and Tortoise Hill. Retreat followed from
the San-yen Ch'iao hills, and so Heh Shan was forced to silence.
Hanyang was captured on Monday, November 27th, the last place to
be evacuated being the Tortoise Hill.
"After the fall of Hanyang, the Imperials retained their strong
river batteries, but moved up their 'Coffin Hill' guns to a
position on the railway a quarter of a mile on the other side of
Sin Shen Road. They threw two bridges across the Han, one about
half a mile below the Waterworks, one at the Wu Shen Miao. They
also fortified the base of Hanyang Hill, planting their guns, as
in the case of the Griffith John College battery and 'Coffin
Hill,' under cover of foreign buildings. This time it was the
American Baptist Mission Hospital that was exposed.
"Evacuation commenced, however, without any more serious
fighting. The guns on the railway were removed. Incidentally
two shrapnel guns and a quantity of ammunition were taken to the
old position near the Griffith John College on New Year's Day,
where they remained three days; but this was probably merely to
prevent a possible crossing of the Revolutionists into forbidden
territory. This ended the fighting in the vicinity of Hankow."
{125}