The south only sang it in parodies. The railway board (Yuchuan Pu) was putting through its nationalization-of-railways scheme, in accordance with the $50,000,000 gold loan from the syndicates of four of the banking nations. To back up arguments, troops were increased under the various generals, Tartar and Manchuized Chinese. Some of these troops were from the federal army, northern divisions, and had been trained by Yuan and General Yin Tchang. Some were provincial viceroys’ troops, trained both under foreign and native systems, like the splendid army of the Yunnan viceroy, Li Chin Hsi. The small railway owners, the small mine owners, the contractors of man-transportation, the noted farmers and river men of Szechuen province, were ordered to consent to the new scheme of a national railway to break across Szechuen province from Ichang to Chingtu, and for other railways in the province. The terms of the foreign loan, the price at which the bankrupt federal government would pretend to buy out the provincial gentry and guilds, the heavy new taxes on the west and south, were all partly explained, and the men of Szechuen (by blood largely Hupeh and Hunan provinces’ emigrants) rebelled and “fired the shot that was heard around the world”.

A noted, partially loyal Chinese general was shortly put in command of the imperial troops in the ancient capital, Chingtu. His name was General Chao Ehr Feng, the famous commander who did the astonishing thing, both from a religious and military point of view, in 1910, of driving the Dalai Lama out of Lhasa and Tibet into Darjeeling, in India, and thus putting Buddhism and its pope at the feet of Confucian China. China also brought up her bloodiest general, Tsen Chun Hsuan, infamous for putting out the last terrific Mohammedan rebellion in mountainous Yunnan province of the clouds, in unnecessary rivers of blood. Foreigners scowled at the employment of this man, and Manchu China was a little uncertain. Promises meant nothing to Tsen. He was a man-eating tiger, the bloodiest man in the world, who pretended and looked to be nothing else, and was descended from as bloody generals. Peking meant business, and the railway policy, which was as much a war policy, seemed to be going through.

It was not long, however, before General Chao’s forces were cooped up in Chingtu, which was besieged by the rebelling province of Szechuen under the leadership of the president of assembly, Pu Tien Chun, and in the engagements General Chao was captured and decapitated. The strategic importance of the railways already built then appeared like the flash of a saber at the bare neck of the victim. Modern troops were hurried down to Hankau by rail in twenty-four hours and up the river to Ichang by steamer, in the rear and on the flank of the besiegers. Then something like thunder happened among the divisions which had been mobilized at the triple cities of Wuchang, Hanyang and Hankau. The Eighth Division, under General Li Yuan Heng, territorial troops of the modern army, hoisted the rebel tri-color sun flag of red, white and blue over the yellow dragon of the Manchus, put white bands on their arms and rebelled for the new-born republic of Han. They captured the leading arsenal, steel and coal plant at Hanyang, the populous commercial city of Hankau, and the luxurious viceregal capital of Wuchang on October 13, 1911. This put a high standard on the rebellion, for Li was a young well-trained general of the new school, a diplomat, a sturdy man in the field, a patriot who could not be bought and who was organizer enough to see that his men were not bought. Admiral Sah, with a fleet of gunboats and small cruisers, aided the imperial divisions under the bloody general, Chang Piao Tuan, which tried to retake the native city of Hankau. Li’s troops, especially his “Dare to Die” (Pu Pa Tsze) Brigade of shaven round-heads, fought bravely, although their artillery was only equipped with percussion shells, as compared with the time-fuse shells brought down from Peking, Tientsin and Kiaochou to supply the imperial troops. When ammunition ran out, the rebel troops used the bayonet charge with reckless daring. It was a new era in fighting in China when yellow men would charge, with only cold steel, across an area swept by machine guns. On October 21st, Generals Li and Hwang, with 15,000 ill-equipped rebels, won the battle of Kwang Shili in Hupeh against General Yin Tchang, the Manchu minister of war and commander-in-chief, with 20,000 finely equipped loyalists. Part of General Li’s force was a section of an army division which had gone over. Others of his new troops were recruited from the most famous boatmen of the world, the Szechuen trackers of the wild rapids and sublime gorges of the glorious Yangtze River, and from the indefatigable, cheerful mountain coolies of Hupeh province, who are as agile as a chamois.

The propaganda of the rebels now bore fruit in rapid succession. On October 22nd the rebels, under the leadership of Tan Yen Kai, president of the Hunan Assembly, took Changsha, the capital of Hunan province. Yale College has a branch in this long forbidden city. Hunan has always been notable for honest, sturdy, independent men. It is the proudest province and the sternest in China. “What way Hunan goes, that way goes China.” It was the last province to permit missionary activity. Nanchang, the capital of Kiangsi province, the land of pottery, was taken on the same day, completing the occupation of the four adjoining central Yangtze provinces, which was all that Sun (Sunyacius) first planned to do, as a beginning and a basis on which to solicit foreign loans. It was rebellion indeed, and not a riot. The Tartars, Manchus and loyalists fled. New provincial governments were set up, each with a popular assembly. Peking was desperate, for China was almost split in half by the political earthquake. Peking felt sure that she held the north, however, with a well-equipped army of about twenty divisions. The reformers, however, had breathed into the ear of the troops, and pay was overdue in the impoverished condition of the central government.

On October 24th, ancient Singan, the capital of the north-western province of Shensi, the original capital of China, where the empress dowager, Tse Hsi, fled in 1900, went over to the rebels, despite the threats of the bloody Mongol governor, General Sheng Yun. This really meant a fifth seceding province, as far as the populace was concerned. On the same day, Kowkiang on the Yangtze went over. Then Kweilin, the capital of Kwangsi province, went over on October 25th. This was the first of the southern provinces to join the movement openly. On October 25th noble Fuchau, the famous seaport capital of old Fukien province, went over, and we have already quoted a wonderful message to the white man from their “Sia Hwei” (reform association). On October 26th, Ngan-king, capital of Nganhwei province, declared for the rebels, and on the same day General Li was suggested as provisional president of the forming republic of Han, with six of China’s twenty-one provinces already seceding. Reform was as hot as a prairie fire, and almost as hard to manage.

On October 29th a remarkable thing occurred among the divisions being massed for an attack on the rebels’ capital at Wuchang. The Twentieth Division was at Lanchow camp, east of Peking, under General Chang Shao Teng. They formed the famous Army League, and made reform demands on the packed National Assembly at Peking, just as Cæsar’s immortal Thirteenth Legion, before the rebellion, sent demands to the Roman Senate, whose orders they were supposed to take. In consternation, the packed National Assembly granted the Nineteen Constitutional Articles, and the Manchu regent, Prince Chun, an able and traveled man (he went to Germany in 1901) daily issued edicts and yellow Peking Gazettes, full of tearful promises, in which, however, the central and southern rebellious provinces had no confidence. They said: “Edicts are like the wings of day and night; it all depends on which side the sun is.” This action of the Twentieth Division halted the government’s war measures, and plans were laid to get loyal divisions near the Lanchow camp, and get rid of General Chang the First. This general was not strong enough to attack Peking on his own account, for there were imperial divisions between him and Generals Li and Hwang of the revolutionists. But he was strong enough to be stubborn, and not move forward. Peking was largely in panic. The railroad station was piled high with household goods, and excursion trains for the flight of the Manchus were running to Tientsin as fast as they could be switched. The streets of Peking were crowded with mule carts, bearing bullion sycee and coins to be stored in the vaults of foreign banks in the legation quarter. No one half guessed before the wealth which the pensioned and privileged Manchus had in cache. Proud princes of the blood were even willing to stand up all the way to Tientsin in open coal cars. Foreigners, legations, railways and banks were popular as never before in the north, as a very present refuge in time of trouble! Marvelous treasures of vases, tapestries, and jade were entrusted to foreigners for safe-keeping, and the treasures of the Mukden and Peking palaces were sacrificed, foreign agents taking advantage of the opportunity. Where could a Manchu take them: to Jehol, to Kalgan where the Russ waited, to Mukden where the Japanese waited? That was only like running from the door to be caught on the roof. Before long, treasures next in wonder to those looted at Peking in 1900 will find their way into the palaces, mansions and museums of the Occident, and artistic China will be robbed bare as a bone; for Peking has long been robbing China of art. The hotels and khans of Peking were crowded to the roofs, and the refugees overflowed into the cellars and stables and moats. Merchantmen were chartered, and held with steam up at Tientsin, ready to afford a refuge for panic-stricken Manchu princes, or disgraced Chinese officials like Sheng. Missionaries in the outskirts trusted the promises of the “Sia Hwei”, and stayed at their posts. Alarmed consuls arrested them in order to bring them into the capital, and the Chinese forgot the dignity due to their arms and laughed at the humorously incongruous situation!

On November 3rd, the Imperial Third Division under General Wong Chou Yuen, with the assistance of Admiral Sah’s fleet, attacked the rebels in native Hankau City. The vast flat city is not adapted for defense, and the loyalists were infinitely better equipped. General Li was short of ammunition. His troops, however, put up a brave fight, time and again charging hopelessly with cold steel against machine guns, and eliciting the unqualified admiration of the foreigners. On that day the Imperial Third Division made a bloody name for itself in the respect of massacre of non-combatants and arson. A prosperous city of nearly a million was reduced to the appearance of nearly a wrecked village. Both rebels and loyalists saved the foreign quarter along the Yangtze Bund, with its palatial consulates and business houses, and the American Episcopal St. Paul’s cathedral and St. Peter’s church, which were turned into hospitals by Doctors Glenton and MacWillie, and nurse Miss Clark of the Red Cross. Across the river at Wuchang, the buildings of the American Episcopal Boone University were turned into a hospital by Doctors Merrins, Paterson and others of the brave. Heroic missionaries held up their hands against the Third Division, and pleaded the rules of the Red Cross, but the Manchus, especially Prince Tsai Tao and others of the Tsai princes, desired by a massacre to induce the rebels to massacre the first time they had a victory, and thus bring on foreign intervention to save the dynasty. A dynasty that can not stand without foreign intervention will never stand, for true strength is in the hearts of the people alone. It was the old Boxer trick of the dowager empress, Tse Hsi, in 1900.

The rebels, however, meant to keep their heads, even under such terrific provocation as that bloody Race Track field of Hankau, over which the machine guns of the Imperial Third Division swept, and those bloody streets, maloos and walls where non-combatants were butchered if they wore a piece of white, or had their queues severed, both of which were hated rebel signs. To and fro the tide of war surged. On November 3rd, a great change occurred, for on that day the rebels’ great misfortune in having no fleet, was to a large degree nullified. Shanghai arsenal, which supplied Admiral Sah’s fleet, and Shanghai’s native walled city, went over to the revolutionists. This was the second great step forward. The rebels secured the well-known Wu Ting Fang as foreign minister of the republic of Han, and their organization spread and strengthened in everything except money and a modern equipped force.

On the same day, the far southwestern capital and province, Yunnan, with its splendid army and police, declared for the red, white and blue sun flag of the republic. Two days after, on November 5th, the famous bore-city, Hangchow, the center of culture, and capital of the coast province of Chekiang, was captured by assault, the Manchu general putting up a strong defense in the Tartar walled section of the city. Ningpo, in the same province, and Suchow, another ancient capital of culture in Kiangsu province, went over on the same day.

On November 6th, Admiral Sah’s sailors handed part of the imperial fleet over to the rebels at Shanghai, and the rebels were now able to reform their center line. This also gave the republicans their first nucleus of a navy. Admiral Sah Chen Ping received his baptism of fire in the battle of the Yalu, under the brave Admiral Ting and Commander Teng. He commanded in suppressing riots at Changsha in 1910, when Yale College branch was barely saved, and he is well known as the host of Admiral Emery’s American fleet at Amoy, when the white squadron was girdling the world under the surprised eyes of Japan, whose mixed-school and emigration “bluffs” were called by President Roosevelt in this significant but quiet way. It was most important to win Kiangsu province, and Chinkiang City was therefore talked over on November 6th. The same day, in the far north, the coaling city and naval base of Chifu in Shangtung province, declared for reform.

Up to this time the cultured old Ming capital of Nanking, the most beloved city in China, had held out under a concentrated force of 12,000 imperialists, who were unusually well equipped. After Wuchang, Hanyang and Shanghai, it was next in importance to capture Nanking on the right wing of the rebels. The imperialists knew that to hold Nanking was worth an army of 200,000 men, and General Chang Hsun (we will call him Chang the Second) was in equipment and temper a man to their minds. His second in command was General Chao, and it was rumored that bloody General Chang Piao was within the walls. The civil viceroy of Nanking was the well known Chang Jen Chung, who instituted the first Chinese industrial exhibition at Nanking in 1910. On the northeast of the walled city are the peaks of Purple Mountain, 1,400 feet high, dominating with its huge Armstrong and Krupp guns the north gate, Ta Ping Men, and the east gate, Chao Yang Men, and the great capital, around which the mighty Yangtze flows, yellow flooded to the brim. This hill, and the Tartar section of the city, Chang the Second fortified, so that it would take a hundred to one to drive him out. On November 8th, the dauntless rebels, led by General Ling, under the protection of fire from the Canton artillery, took the armory, arsenal and powder mills outside the south wall, rushed the outworks, and held part of the southern city with insufficient force. One of the cannon balls went crashing through the “North Pole” pagoda in the Tartar City. On November 9th, the imperialists at the strong south fort (Nan Men) hoisted a white flag of apparent surrender, and as the republicans came up, “near enough to see the white of their eyes,” they opened a treacherous fire upon them. The Manchu troops, under General Tieh Liang, looted their own fine military school in the city. There let us leave the rebel lines and pickets for a few days, while General Li and General Hwang on the far left wing were being appealed to for men, and above all, for siege and machine guns and ammunition.

On November 9th, Fuchau had to be stormed again, for the imperialists had been reinforced. On that same day, Canton, always stanch for a modern China, and mother of nearly all the reformers, went over to the rebels under President of Assembly Wu Hon Man, General Chan Kwang Ming, and Wong Ching Wai, and drove the imperial viceroy to Hongkong near by, where the British government pleaded with the great Chinese body to spare their unwelcome hostage, who had fled in Chinese custom “to a city of refuge”. All over China, as in the Palestine of the Bible, are towers of refuge for this very purpose. The American cruiser New Orleans, Captain Miller, had steamed up to Nanking and taken on board hundreds of foreigners, including seventy-five Americans, and records. On November 10th, bloody Chang the Second gave orders, in the old “Boxer” trick plan, for the awful massacre of Nanking. The aim was first to incite the imperial soldiery with the sight of blood, as tigers baited. On the lovely bright afternoon, the prison was opened and 200 prisoners were sent into the yamen courtyard, “to their freedom,” as they thought. There they were made to kneel in a row, while their necks were stretched out by the queue. An executioner, with a mercury weighted Taifo shortsword, hurried along the long line, using only one practised blow to sever each head. The heads were elevated on bamboo poles. The Manchu troops then tasted the blood in the belief that human blood would make them brave and invulnerable. They even dipped their coarse biscuits in the gory pools. They were then ready for anything that was merciless.

In force, Chang’s trained troops, with machine guns, swept down from Purple Mountain, Tiger fort, Lion fort and the Tartar section of the city, on the small force of republicans, and the innocent population of Nanking the Refined. Shame on the Ninth Division of Shangtung territorial troops and the old-style turbaned “braves”. Every man who had no queue; every woman who had the rebel sign of white in her apparel or hair; every man, woman or child who was a Nankingese was slaughtered without opposition, and the odious Ninth Division waded back to Tiger, Lion and Purple Hills through the bloody shambles. This was not war; not even hell; this was an insane massacre of the innocents. The few republican troops under the indomitable General Ling fought until their ammunition was spent, and then with cold steel set, they awaited the rain of bullets from machine guns across the lead swept spaces of the immense, half-built-up city. It availed nothing. Peking breathed with hope. Chang the Second was a general after the “Boxer” Manchu heart. Manchu princes—yea, even those who had visited America and England, like the dashing Prince Tsai Tao and Prince Tsai Chun, and who should have known better—had been urging massacres, and Chang the Second had apparently understood them. General Chang the Second was heartily backed up by the merciless Tartar general, Tieh Liang.

On November 11th, Amoy, the famous port of Fukien province, where American officers have been so often entertained by Admiral Sah and other Chinese admirals, was taken, the American cruiser Saratoga (the old New York of Santiago fame) and the American gunboat Quiros steaming out of the harbor so as to be non-combatants in fact and in influence. The American monitor Monterey, so as to protect foreigners, later steamed into the harbor, where she was often struck by stray bullets. On November 13th, the most remarkable thing thus far in the revolution occurred, though the impulse was not permanently fixed. Mukden, the home capital of the Manchu race, the mausoleum of their founder, and of many of their dead emperors, under the influence of Chinese immigrants, declared its independence under General Wuh Hsiang Chen, and the reform speaker of the Mukden Assembly, Wu Lun Lien. During all this turmoil, Pechili, Shansi, and Honan provinces were strongly held by Manchu and Mongol “banner” troops, but Foreign Minister Wu Ting Fang of the republicans got a note through to the American minister at Peking, asking him to deliver it to the Manchu regent, Prince Chun. The note requested the Court to abdicate, and retire to Jehol, 200 miles northeast of Peking, where they were promised positive protection, and liberal pensions. In the meantime Yuan Shih Kai returned from exile at Chang Te in Honan province to Peking, and took up the reins of power as provisional premier of a limited Manchu monarchy; began treating with the republicans, solidifying the Manchu army, and soliciting foreign loans, as the empress dowager’s strong-box no longer furnished funds. Only three out of twenty-one provinces, and three territories, were now remitting to Peking, but Peking had the mighty northern army.

On November 17th, the revolutionists under Generals Li and Hwang attacked the imperial lines at Hankau, and despite their poor equipment in machine guns and artillery, led by a regiment of Roundheads called “Dare to Die” (Pu Pa Tsze) men, commanded by Colonel Wen, who graduated from West Point in 1909, they took three of the four parallels by cold steel charges, sapper work and bomb throwing. One of the rebel shells from Wuchang punched a hole in a 2,000,000-gallon tank of oil in Hankau, and the streets were flooded two feet deep with kerosene. It was the first time that Chinese had met Chinese in scientific modern war, and it marked the entrance of China into the modern arena, where Might strikes for Right, instead of only arguing for it. China had begun to find herself. Meanwhile there was distress in Singan in the north, which city had declared for reform on October 24th. The Manchus had retaken the suburbs of the city, for it was in their sphere of control, and had begun, with their mobs, to massacre missionaries, as was expected. The China Inland Mission outside the city was attacked, and the English Baptist, Scandinavian and American missions throughout the province were struck at. Blame was put on the Mohammedans wherever possible.

Let us go down to Nanking for a moment, to see how the war is progressing. To keep Nanking and Shanghai in touch, the Americans had brought up their beautiful cruisers New Orleans and Albany, for the American Vice-consul Gilbert and the intrepid American missionaries, Doctor Macklin, President Bowen, Mr. Blackstone, Mr. Garrett and others were in the city. General Hsu of the imperialists, with the Thirty-fifth Regiment of Infantry, on November 21st, hoisted the red, white and blue flag and left the strong lines of Purple Mountain and the Tartar city to join the rebel ranks, which were being reinforced from Canton and other directions also. Bloody General Chang the Second, the imperial commander, immediately had all General Hsu’s relatives in Nanking murdered in revenge.

In far-away London, Doctor Sun Yat Sen, with an American adviser and friend, “General” Homer Lea, set sail for Shanghai on the same day. He first went to Paris, and then took the liner Martha at Marseilles for Hongkong, from which place he planned safely to reach Shanghai to complete the rebel government. On November 22nd, when the imperialists with all their foreign friendships were unable to consummate their loans, the rebels at Shanghai opened a Republic of Han Central Bank, with a capital of 5,000,000 taels. The title of the bank was the “Chung Hua”, and the first notes were dated in the 4609th year of Huang Ti (august sovereign), he being the mythical first emperor of China, and the inventor of the Chinese ideograph. The notes were printed in English on one side and entitled “The Republican China Military Bank Note”. Other notes were issued by the provincial rebels and read as follows in English and Chinese: “The Chinese Revolutionary Government promises to pay the bearer —— dollars after one year of its establishment in China on demand at the Treasury of the said government in Canton, or its agents abroad. 1st January, 1911. For President (sd.) Sun Wen.” It will be noted that the Christian calendar had now come into effect. The shops immediately took the notes at a premium, something unique in China, the land of financial discounts and chaotic exchange. Enthusiasm grew. For the first time in the history of modern China, a company of women took up arms and advanced with the lines. There were also many Red Cross corps of women, from Canton, Fuchau, Wuchang, Shanghai, etc.

We shall return to Nanking. On November 25th, by hard scraping at Canton, the rebels under General Ling brought up twelve field guns for six hours and fired on the imperial position on Tiger Hill and Lion Hill on the northwest, near the famous Ming tombs, which are outside the walls of Nanking (not to be confounded with the remainder of the Ming dynasty tombs which are at Nankou, northwest of Peking). Then 1,500 troops, led as usual by companies of queueless “Dare to Die” boys, many of whom were students in Nanking Protestant University (American), charged, and drove twice their number of imperialists from the strong lines, which were supplied with heavy Armstrong and Krupp four-point-seven and six-inch guns. Unfortunately, many shots struck the gate of the tombs, behind which the imperialists had also fortified themselves. The rebel navy now came nearer, despite the fire of Lion Hill, and prepared for the attack, as the rebel infantry drew their lines closer around the largest walled city of China. Guns were immediately brought up to breach the heavy walls and high gates and train on the Lion Hill and Tiger forts, which were within the Tartar city, and keeping the navy back.

On the left wing at Hankau the rebels were gaining successes. At an armistice, on November 24th, Yuan Shih Kai’s representatives told General Li (whom they met at the British consulate on the bund) that he had better trust the Manchus, as they could secure the hated Russian or Japanese intervention as in the old notorious days of 1896 and 1900. Li replied that the republicans had no trust any more in Manchu promises of reform or real permanent constitutionalism; that the usual relapse of the “Boxer sickness” would come! At Manila, Hongkong and Singapore, the Americans and British were preparing troops to be ready, as in 1900, to rush them to Tientsin to save the Peking legations and missionaries, if the Manchus, or Hunghutz, or Mongol brigands brought on a massacre to secure foreign intervention. Though America and Britain emphatically stand for non-intervention and non-partition of China, both these nations feared Russia and other powers which were hard to restrain. Britain’s action at this time in restraining ambitious Japan (greedy with the taste of Formosa, Korea and South Manchuria) can not be praised too highly. Wu Ting Fang, Doctor Sun and General Li of the republicans, from Shanghai, London and Wuchang respectively, issued proclamations that foreigners and missionaries were to be respected highly as the best friends of New China. In Shansi province the republicans, separated from their base, were having a hard time against the Imperial Sixth Division under General Sheng Yun, which had every advantage of succor by railway from Peking and the junction at Ching Ting. The imperialists bribed soldiers to assassinate General Wu of the republican forces operating in these northwest provinces. This was a terrible blow to reform.

On November 26th, the rebels, under General Ling Chang, attacked the strong hill forts above Nanking with determination. There was much firing of heavy guns from the river also, as the new navy of fifteen small vessels came up. Dogged charges were made across the open and up the zigzag of Purple Hill. The rebel losses were tremendous, and Chang the Second, of the imperialists, proved himself as grim a defense fighter as he was a ruthless leader of massacre. The rebel attack under General Ling Chang was brilliant and reckless. Who will sing the feats of the new Chinese arms,—yes, the Chinese, who the world said would never make soldiers, even if they had a great cause at heart. The fighting was not as magnificently solid and desperate as Pickett’s gray charge at Gettysburg, the Cuirassiers’ wild ride into the valley of death at Waterloo, Linievitch’s grim defense of Putiloff Hill, the shouting sweep of Oku’s dwarf Japanese up Nanshan Heights, or the silent plunge of Oyama’s ranks into the Liaoyang valley, or against the black Mukden lines. It was as determined, daring and brilliant, however, as any land engagement in the South African or Spanish-American Wars, and far braver and stronger than the theatrical engagements, with air-ship accessories, of the Italy-Tripoli War. The world’s critics must now change their criterions. A strong cause WILL make a strong battle anywhere the world over, no matter what the color of the soldier, or the cut or tint of his battle flag. The fighting now closed in on Nanking, the old capital of the Mings, the high-water city of the Taiping rebellion, and the rebels had a great deal to avenge, and a great deal to gain. To fail in the attack on Nanking meant a tremendous setback to the rebellion. Few reinforcements could come, for the fighting was in half a dozen provinces, and along a broken front extending from Chingtu to Hankau and Nanking, 1,000 miles, with railway transport service, foreign ammunition, money and sympathy, favoring the imperialists; and sea and river transport, and the sympathy of the British and American peoples favoring the rebels, who, of course, had no navy worth counting as yet.

The alarmed Manchu regent, Prince Chun, at Peking, now gave out his oath, in the name of the child emperor, Pu Yi (throne name, Hsuan Tung), sworn before the open heaven to God (Tien), before the Confucian ancestral tablets, and before Buddha’s image, as follows: “My policy and choice of officials have not been wise; hence the recent troubles. Fearing the fall of the sacred Manchu dynasty, I accept the advice of the National Assembly. I swear to uphold the Nineteen Constitutional Articles (demanded by the 20th Army Division at Lanchow) and organize a parliament, excluding the Manchu and Mongol nobles from administrative posts. The heavenly spirits of your forefathers will see and understand.” They understood! The educated Chinese of the central and southern provinces laughed; they had heard the like before, and besides, this oath was taken under compulsion of the Army League. The new rebel government in Kwangtung province, under Wu Hon Man, its president, was as yet unable to police the notorious pirate waters of the Si Kiang (West River), running far up country from Canton, and the large British tonnage, though armed, suffered. Chief Officer Nicholson, of the steamer Shui On, was killed in a private attack at Junction Creek on November 30th, which infuriated British Hongkong, which was holding its gunboats in leash. The large Chinese tonnage in fear tied up to the wharves and bund of Canton and the riverine ports. A trick of the West River pirates was to anchor a deserted stoneboat across the channel, and as the steamer slowed up, the snake boats and motor launches of the pirates dashed alongside from the creeks and cane-brakes. The most daring of these brigand chiefs was the notorious Luk, from whom we shall hear later. Everywhere else, however, as we have shown, for instance at Fuchau, the republicans were splendidly protecting foreign traders and missionaries.

I have said that the revolutionists’ line was too long to defend, with two principal sieges taking place three hundred miles apart. Peking understood this, and while the rebels reinforced their attack on the right flank at Nanking, the imperialists brought down reinforcements by railway to General Feng Kwo Chang, at Hankau, who at once attacked the rebel left flank in force, aiming to cripple the rebels by taking back the essential Hanyang arsenal. Hei Shan, Meit Zu and Tortoise forts were taken by machine and field gun fire and charges, and General Li’s rebel ranks fell back under severe loss. The retreating ranks didn’t carry their bird cages with them as the gentlemen soldiers of Chifu did in the China-Japan War of 1894! General Feng’s and General Wong’s imperialist troops, after breaking through the Tung Chi (East Messenger) gate and looting, now put the torch to the rest of Hankau, destroying the homes of a million people, and burning a hundred million dollars’ worth of property. Such an uncalled for, accursed outrage, such an unjustifiable act of wholesale arson against non-combatants has never been known. What would history have said had the Germans burned Paris, the British, Pretoria or the Americans, Manila? What should be said when the Manchu imperialists burned Hankau? Why didn’t they rather sell its tiles, its silk, its oils, its mountains of tea? They admitted that they needed money. At least there would have been no world’s loss of property. Hankau belonged to the world as much as to China. The Manchu must yet answer for this arson, for arson and murder are unjustifiable world crimes. Arson makes it harder and costlier for an American, a Briton, a German, a Frenchman, to live, as the wave of cost rolls on, as much as it makes it harder for the Chinese to live. In these days of world conservation, no nation should be allowed to put the firebrand to property because men are fighting or arguing over an idea. Shame on the sack and burning of Hankau by the Manchus. The British, Americans, volunteers and jackies, and other foreigners on the long bund, heaped up breastworks of even rice bags, and swept the riverside and race track on either flank in defense of the palatial foreign concessions. Here a blue-jacket, there a marine, and between an ununiformed volunteer clerk, the boys shouldered their Springfields, Lee-Enfields and Mausers, and held brave guard at the thinnest part of the long-stretched line of the white man’s empire of influence and trade.

On the same day the rebels were doing better on the right flank at Nanking, despite their long front of fifteen miles wide. The Ta Ping Men (North) gate of the city, and Tiger Hill fort within the walls were bombarded, and General Ling brought up the rebel guns to bombard General Chang the Second, who had contracted his lines to Purple, Lion, Tiger and Pei Che Kao forts in the northeast of the city, as far away as possible from the rebel fleet, part of which had to be recalled to Wuchang to assist General Li in his extremity. The imperialists held the strong Nan Men gate in the south of the city, and the Chao Yang fort at the east gate, which was fortified with two six-inch, two four-point-seven, and two three-inch guns, as well as Maxims, surely a deadly armament. In wise patience America and Britain still held their troops at Manila and Hongkong, respectively, but Japan was allowed, on the 26th of November, to rush 1,000 more legation and railway guards to Tientsin, and the railway guards along the Japanese railways in Manchuria were reinforced far beyond international conventions. Captain Sowerby, with the newly organized Foreign Frontier Guards, started from Peking to help the harassed missionaries who were being murdered in Singan and Taiyuen in the north. This astonishing expedition was remarkable for its intrepidity and its success. Within a month and a half Captain Sowerby’s men had gone from Taiyuen to Singan, gathered together forty missionaries, and following the course of the Wei and Yellow Rivers through the famous Tongkwan pass, brought his charges safely to Honan City on the Honan railway, from which place they could easily reach Tientsin. Lies began to spread like wildfire. Pirates committed atrocities along the West River section of Kwangtung province, and the Manchus and their sympathizers blamed it on the ineffective rebel organization of Canton. In the north, Hunghutz, Mongol and Boxer brigands murdered missionaries, rebels and non-combatants, and the republican sympathizers blamed it on the ineffective Manchu government. This is certain: the rebels desperately disliked foreign intervention, and only pleaded for time to win and organize, while the Manchus saw that, if driven to the last wall, massacre and lawlessness would help the retention of the dynasty by causing foreign interventions; and the Manchus were willing to lose all Manchuria to Japan and all Mongolia and Turkestan to Russia, to bring this about. The reader will note that none of the many old generals has appeared on the imperial side, as the battles narrowed down to engagements with modern weapons of precision and power, requiring generals trained in modern war. Generals Li and Hwang, of the rebels, opposed Generals Feng and Wong at Hankau, and Generals Ling and Hsu opposed Generals Chang and Tieh of the imperialists at Nanking. More foreign officers, especially Japanese and Germans incognito, served in the loyalist ranks than in the rebel ranks, and German ammunition and guns were freely served to the imperialists. After the battle of Hanyang, two Germans were found among the imperialists’ dead, and two of the imperialists’ wounded were Germans, one of them a colonel in the German army. The Japanese trusts, the princes of the Choshiu and Satsuma clans, who control the House of Peers and the Genro Council, and thus run the government by veto, did not want a republic in China. They feared it would bring about the control of the budget by the House of Representatives and real popular government in Japan, which country is now absolutely controlled by the aristocracy; for the Japanese Diet is no more representative of the overtaxed people than is the Russian Duma. They feared also that if the Chinese pope-emperor could fall, so could the Japanese pope-emperor who was no more holy. The German syndicates were also anxious to maintain their confiscatory privileges in Shangtung province, which were obtained from the Manchus. Dictator Yuan always preferred German instructors in his Pechili, Honan and Shangtung armies.

On November 27th, Yuan Shih Kai, the premier-dictator at Peking, had poured out the treasures of the Manchu empress dowager’s private chest, and well paid and well armed troops were rushed to Hankau. Generals Feng and Wong Chou Yuen had 30,000 modern drilled and equipped men, and the divisions were heavily supplied with precise artillery. Hankau City and Hanyang arsenal across the river were bombarded mercilessly, and the imperialists of Wong’s bloody third division, under cover of this artillery practise, crossed the Han River thirty miles up and flanked the left wing of the rebels, whose old Armstrong artillery, using percussion shells, was no match for the modern three and four-inch guns of the imperialists, who had the arsenals of the north and the Germans at Kiaochou to draw on. Neither was the rebel infantry equal, as half of their regiments had been drawn back to Nanking, 400 miles away, by river. The best the rebels could do was to oppose 15,000 men, with weak artillery, to 30,000 excellently equipped imperialists. The result was that the all-important Hanyang arsenal and world-wide known iron works were lost, and Generals Li and Hwang Hing had to retreat to Wuchang, the rebel capital across the Yangtze River, which is a difficult place to defend, as its flanks and rear are vulnerable. The result of this great reverse was that the lukewarm viceroys in the northern provinces, who had gone over to the rebels’ cause in the first flush of success, began to declare again for the Manchus. Shangtung province went back, and Yuan Shih Kai by the telegraph on this day got his own province of Honan to return to the imperial fold. Both of these are northern provinces. Premier Yuan now began rushing reinforcements down the Grand Canal and railway to Yangchow and Pukow, nearly opposite Nanking, so as to succor redoubtable General Chang the Second at Nanking, and enable him to again occupy Tiger fort. General Feng came over from Hankau to advise Chang. The plan was, by taking back the Hankau cities and Nanking, to turn both the left and right flanks of the revolutionists, rush their capital of Wuchang, and crumple up the rebellion in Shanghai. Everything in equipment, transportation, foreign men, money and artillery favored the imperialists. Everything in daring and enthusiasm favored the rebels, whose American-trained students recited the dictum of Herodotus on republicanism: “The Athenians, when governed by tyrants, were superior in war to none of their neighbors, but when freed from tyrants, became by far the first. This then shows that as long as they were oppressed they purposely acted as cowards, as laboring for a master, but when they were free every man was zealous to labor for the State.”

There was one thing the rebels were weak or uncertain in. If they destroyed China’s religion of aristocracy and king worship, what would they give in its place? Would they give Christianity (their leaders, Doctor Sun and General Li, being Christians), and a permanent satisfaction with the rule of a native president and congress over twenty-one provincial presidents and assemblies? It was a mighty task,—the greatest the world has known,—and few of the old viceroys and Manchuized Chinese literati of the Hanlin were at heart prepared for its radical solution. True, the rebels could staff the twenty-one provinces with advanced Kwangtung, Szechuen, Hupeh, Hunan and Kiangsu province men, but that was not republican home rule.

The aim and difficulty of the rebels was to maintain the new ideas against reverses in the provinces, which had developed few modern thinkers among the officials, who, like the troops, were looking for salary first and country afterward. Yuan, the premier-dictator, who had weighed it all up in Honan, said to himself, according to some southern critics: “Give me money enough for 100,000 splendid, modern-drilled northern men, and give me trunk railways. I’ll find men who will fight for whichever side pays their wages; we must have order, which is civilization’s first law.” Yuan was a believer in that truism that the radical reformers do all the work, and bear all the risk of reform, and that the “standpatters”, the moderate progressives and reactionaries, enjoy all the fruit and political offices. Differently from Sun, Yuan wanted office first and influence afterward. He was now active in soliciting foreign loans, securing $1,000,000 from Russia and Belgium, and the promise of $30,000,000 from Russia, Belgium and Japan, these being the pro-Manchu powers, while America and Britain represented pro-Chinese sympathies. The rebels were just as active in soliciting private subscriptions in America and the Straits Settlements, and 70 per cent. of the Chinese abroad sent a quarter of their fortunes to Sun Yat Sen and Wu Ting Fang at Shanghai for the republican cause.

However, it must be admitted that when the Manchus recruited Yuan Shih Kai, the Honanese, they secured a tower of strength, another Li Hung Chang, to a large degree a dictator, a believer in money, troops, quick trial by drumhead, and decapitation, a good servant of any master who would steadily employ him; a believer in dynasties more than peoples, a modern progressive but not an idealist or natural republican, a man who hated the words “turbulent liberty”, but who loved the word “order”; a statesman more like Diaz, Bismarck or Richelieu than like Washington or Lincoln. He had never traveled abroad like thousands of other Chinese officials. He could not speak or read English, and so knew little of the great documents of liberty and idealism in their first fire of the original. He knew that he was smashing rapid progress for the second time, just as he had gone against the reform Manchu emperor, Kwang Hsu, and the palace reformers from Canton: Kang Yu Wei, Liang Chi Choa, etc., in 1898, and joined the reactionary “Boxer” dowager empress, Tse Hsi. He feared the rebel sympathizers might assassinate him, and he rode as dictator about Peking with a cavalry escort. His headquarters were in the modern Wai Wu Pu Building, which is fitted with steam heat, elevators, electric light, etc. There he gave regular interviews to the foreign press representatives, in emulation of the methods long practised by Sunyacius and Wu Ting Fang at Shanghai. He made the Manchus weak, too, for he matched their troops at Peking with his old Shangtung and Honan territorial troops, man for man. He also sent the turbulent, stubborn twentieth division, shorn of its commander, Chang, far to the eastward. The majority of the National Assembly had fled, and the Manchu princes would not come out of their bedrooms. If the rebels were to win now, they must produce even a stronger man than Yuan. Who was that man; where was he in the making?

It is quite orthodox not to despair ever of immemorial China, and to expect a great man to arise when politics is at its worst, for Confucius arose from the rivalry of sixteen states, and he formulated his political philosophy when he was a persecuted exile from his own state of Lu. When the republicans were most dejected, that great republican, the American Methodist bishop, J. W. Bashford, of Shanghai, in season and out of season, unofficially beseeched them to quit themselves like men. So large-hearted a man could not stand by and see men who were fighting for liberty droop at their guns. He cheered them; he talked to their students; he gave megaphone interviews to the world press and supported the discouraged propaganda, fearing naught the criticism which arose. He was a missionary, but more than that, he was a man, and an American. Some British missionaries, too, came in for criticism because they could not refrain from whispering in the ear of liberty the Cromwellian encouragement: “Be of good cheer.”

By November 29th the lack of money was thinning the lines of the rebel forces, and Dictator Yuan, at Peking, was growing in strength with small foreign loans and arms from Russia, Japan and Germany. The rebels, at Wu Ting Fang’s suggestion, in desperation, threatened to boycott the commerce of any nation making loans to the Manchu government, and a German compradore was shot down at Hankau as he was in the act of delivering arms over to the imperialists. The Manchu Tsai princes sold their art treasures for arms. The rebels melted the idols of the nation to make coin. In accord with the protocol of 1901, America now formally offered the Peking government 2,500 troops to assist in keeping the railway from Peking to Tientsin open to the sea. The Japanese had already landed their quota of this foreign force. Naturally the rebels looked on this landing of foreign troops in the Manchu section of the country as, to a degree, foreign aid to the Manchus, as it increased their prestige and sources of advice in the north. More subtle forces than those of arms began to work now on some of the rebel leaders, and the cause lapsed into darker days because of the lack of money. Dictator Yuan, in Peking, was exultant, and said to one member of the legations: “I give the rebellion eight more days to live; I expect to have 100,000 modern troops and a railway.” Professor E. H. Parker, the eminent sinologue, now of Manchester University, England, when a British consul in Korea, wrote of “Yuan’s Machiavellian character” in his book, John Chinaman. Even some of the Manchus agreed in the cry of the rebels: “Yuan is making himself dictator; he may seek the throne; he may split off Northern China; Peking is too near Russian Siberia.” He had sent the Manchu troops away from Peking, and gathered his old divisions (like Cæsar with his Thirteenth Legion) of Shangtung and Honan troops around him.

Yuan appealed to the provinces to send delegates to Peking to discuss a constitution, but the rebel provinces replied: “No National Assembly can discuss constitutional government with freedom while your troops, pounding their rifle stocks, stand at the door; remember the Parliaments of King Charles.” The rebels cried: “If Yuan and the Manchus win now, it is foreign money that does it. Why can’t we get foreign money; we’re the overwhelming majority of the people.” Some of the foreign governments replied: “We are only interested in trade and order; we can’t wait for you to fight this out, and possibly kill some of our missionaries; you must win quickly or we’ll stand by the powers that be.” The rebels replied: “Cromwell and Washington, Thiers and Grant didn’t win quickly, and if you let us lose now, we’ll fight it out again. You can’t withstand the constitutional rights of 400 million people for the sake of a dynasty of raiders, who seized and entrenched their throne with five million subsidized cavalrymen, who have now grown effete by subsidy. We are opposed to entrenched privilege just as much as you are. In Roosevelt’s words: ‘The land has got to be as good for all of us as it is for some of us.’ These minority Manchus must cease to usurp office, pensions, privileges and concession granting. We of the south are taxed without representation. If America could go to war with this as a cause, why can’t we?”

Yuan, under certain foreign advice, planned to throw a bridge across the Yangtze River at Hankau, and get his railway down into the heart of the southern rebel provinces. He believed in quick facilities for throwing his modern troops against uprisings, for his railway from Peking to Hankau had won him the present turn in the tide of affairs by enabling him to flank the long rebel lines. Oh! at this time, some cried, for an emperor warrior of the real Chinese, a descendant of the Mings; a descendant of the house of Confucius (the Duke Kungs); or a Washington-like president of a Chinese republic, who could get foreign loans. This was the cry that was arising against the return of the Manchu ghost, and the ominous shadow of a dictator. However, something had been won. The agitation and the battles had taught the sweet themes of deathless liberty and a new Chinese nationalism to thousands who had been supine, provincial, or anarchistic in their despair. It was recalled that Tau Sze Tung, the reformer and son of a Hupeh governor, who was beheaded in 1898, said on his way to the place of execution: “Martyrdom must always precede revolution; shall I not be the first martyr?” Liberty is never defeated, for each time she falls she makes her conqueror concede something, for she only falls to her knees and rises again. The reactionary empress dowager, Tse Hsi, after her victory in 1898, conceded reforms from 1900 to 1908, and it would be so with her successors, perhaps, after this lesson of protest. A plan was laid by some foreign bankers, and some Chinese, that if the republican government was not a success, a direct descendant of Confucius, one Kung, an American Presbyterian Christian of Shangtung province, would be backed for the throne in the hope that the Chinese race would flock to his banner.

On November 28th, 29th and 30th, the rebels, under Generals Hsu and Ling, made a master effort on their right wing, for which purpose they had weakened their left wing, allowing the two Hankau cities to go. The Canton bomb throwing levies and artillerymen went into battle singing this new hymn to Liberty, which is certainly rugged poetry of merit: