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Beacon Lights of History, Volume 14: The New Era

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IV.
THE TAIPING REBELLION

In April, 1853, the news reached us that Nanking had fallen into the hands of a body of rebels who, by a curious irony, called themselves Taipings, "Soldiers of Peace."

They were Chinese, not Manchus, and their leaders were all from the extreme south. Starting near Canton, they had proclaimed as their object the expulsion of the Tartars. Overrunning Kwangsi and Hunan, they had got possession of Hankow and the two adjacent cities,–a centre of wealth which may be compared to the three cities that form our Greater New York. Everywhere they put to flight the government forces; but they did not choose to stop anywhere short of the ancient capital of the Mings. Seizing some thousands of junks, they filled them with the plunder of that rich mart, and sweeping down the river, carried by assault every city on its banks until they reached Nanking. Its resistance was quickly overcome; and putting to death the entire garrison of twenty-five thousand Manchus, they announced their intention to make it the capital of their empire, as Hung Wu had done when he drove out the Mongols and restored freedom to the Chinese race.

In a few months they despatched an expedition to expel the Manchus from Peking. But that proved a more difficult task than they expected. Before the detachment had arrived at Tientsin, it was met on the Grand Canal by a strong force under Sengkolinsin, the Mongol prince. Obliged to winter on the way, it was divided and cut off in detail; this defeat making it evident to all the world that the Manchu domination might still hope for a considerable lease of life. The blood and rapine which everywhere marked their pathway alienated the sympathy of foreigners from the Soldiers of Peace. Nor did the new power at Nanking manifest the least anxiety to obtain foreign aid, feeling assured of ultimate triumph. Yet, indifferent as they were to the co-operation of foreigners, the Taipings proclaimed themselves Christians, and appeared to aim their blows no less at lifeless idols than at living enemies. Shangti, the Supreme Ruler, the God of the ancient sages, was the object of their worship. They found his name in the Christian Bibles, and they published the Bible as the source of their new faith. Their faith amounted to a frenzy, giving them courage in battle, but not imparting the self-control essential to Christian morality. Filling their coffers with spoil, they stocked their harems with the wives and daughters of their enemies. If their lives had been more decent, they might have had a better chance to secure the favor of those powerful nations which had now become the arbiters of destiny in China.

The leader of the movement was a Cantonese by the name of Hung Siu Chuen. A copy of the Bible having fallen into his hands, he applied to a Baptist missionary for instruction. How much he learned may be inferred from the fact that he gave his followers a new form of baptism, requiring them to wash the bosom as a sign for cleansing the heart. He had ecstatic visions, and preached a crusade against idolatry and the Manchus. The ease with which the Manchus had been beaten by the British in 1842 had revealed their weakness, and the new faith supplied the rebels with a fresh source of power. They mixed the teachings of the Gospel with new revelations as freely as Mohammed did in propagating the religion of the Koran. The chief called himself the younger brother of Jesus Christ. His prime minister assumed the title of the Holy Ghost; and his counsels were given out as decrees from Heaven. All this had an air of blasphemy that shocked the sensibilities of foreigners, and compelled them to stand aloof or to support the Manchus.

The native authorities were permitted to engage foreign ships and seamen to operate against the rebels, who sustained a siege in Nanking almost as long as the siege of Troy. From Shanghai, Suchau, and other cities the Taipings were driven out by the aid of foreigners, chiefly led by Ward and Gordon, the former an American, the latter a Briton. General Ward was never under the command of Li Hung Chang; but to him more than to any other foreigner belongs the honor of turning the tide of the Taiping Rebellion. A soldier of fortune, he offered to throw his sword into the government scale if it were paid for with many times its weight in gold. Gathering a nondescript force of various nationalities, he recaptured the city of Sungkiang, and followed this up by such a series of successes that his little troop came to be known as the "Ever-victorious Army." Falling before the walls of Tseki, he was interred with pomp at the scene of his first victory, where a temple was erected to his memory, and he is now reckoned among the "Joss" of the Chinese Empire. His force was taken into Li's pay.

General Gordon (the same who fell at Khartoum) acted under the direction of Li Hung Chang; and his chief exploit was the recovery of Suchau. Unable to resist his artillery, the rebel chiefs offered to capitulate. They were assured by him that their lives would be spared. To this Li Hung Chang consented, and the stronghold was at once surrendered. Regardless of his plighted faith, Li caused the five leaders to be beheaded, an act of treachery which filled Gordon with such fury that he went from camp to camp, looking for Li, determined to put a bullet in his head. Li, however, avoided a meeting until Gordon's wrath had time to subside, and that treacherous act laid the foundation of his future fortunes. He was made governor of the province, and for forty years he rose in power and influence.

Not only was this terrible rebellion which laid waste the fairest provinces a sequel to the first war with England, it was prolonged and aggravated by a second war which broke out in 1857. In 1863, the last stronghold of the rebels was recaptured, and the rebellion finally suppressed, after twelve years of dismal carnage. In bringing about this result, no names are more conspicuous than those of Li Hung Chang and General Gordon, whose sobriquet of "Chinese Gordon" ever afterwards characterized him. Li's good fortune served him well in this war. Having won the favor of the Court, he was in command of the forces of eastern Kiangsu, and all the brilliant successes of Ward and Gordon were credited to him. He was not only made governor of the province, but also created an Earl in perpetuity.

V.
THE "ARROW" WAR; THE TREATIES

Never did a smaller spark ignite a greater conflagration. In 1856 a native junk named the "Arrow," sailing under a British flag, was seized for piracy, her flag hauled down and her crew thrown into prison at Canton. On demand of Sir John Bowring, Governor of Hong Kong, they were handed over to Consul Parkes (later Sir Harry); but he refused to receive them because they were not accompanied by a suitable apology. The haughty Viceroy Yeh put them all to death, provoking reprisals on the part of the British, resulting in the occupation of Canton and the capture of Peking after three campaigns to the north.

In this war England had France for ally; as the two powers had been associated in that hugest of blunders, the Crimean War. Nor was the alliance a less blunder on this occasion. Napoleon's excuse for participation was the murder of a missionary in Kwangsi; but his real motive was a desire to checkmate Great Britain, and prevent the conquest of new territory. In the Opium War she had stopped at Nanking, leaving the pride of China unhumbled, and the state of relations so unstable that another war was required to place them on a better footing. England, with unselfish generosity, invited the co-operation of Russia and the United States. Either power might have found as good a pretext for hostile action as that of France; but they chose to maintain an attitude of neutrality, offering only such moral support as might enable them to gather up the apples after the others had shaken the tree. In 1857 Canton was taken and held by the allies. The next spring the envoys of the four powers, each with a considerable naval force, proceeded to the mouth of the Peiho, the gateway to a capital as secluded and exclusive as that of the Grand Lama. The forts made a show of resistance, but they were put to silence in less than half an hour; and negotiations which had been opened by the neutrals were resumed at Tientsin.

Dr. S. Wells Williams was Chinese secretary to the United States minister, Mr. William B. Reed; and I acted as interpreter for the spoken language. An article in favor of Christian missions occasioned some delay; and Mr. Reed, who was vain and shallow, said to us, "Now, gentlemen, hurry up with your missionary article for I intend to sign my treaty on the 18th of June [Waterloo day] with or without that clause." Fancy a mind that could think of a treaty obtained by British guns as entitling him to be associated with Wellington! Yet Mr. Reed had the effrontery to say that he "expected us to make the missionary societies duly sensible of their obligations" to him. That twenty-ninth article was the gem of the treaty; and it had the honor of being copied into that of Lord Elgin, which was signed eight days later.

High-minded, philanthropic, and upright, Lord Elgin made a mistake which led to a renewal of the war. He refused to place Tientsin on the list of open ports, because, as he said, "Foreign powers would make use of it to overawe the Chinese capital,"–just as if overawing was not a matter of prime necessity. He hastened away to India to aid in suppressing the Sepoy mutiny, eventually becoming viceroy after another campaign in China. His brother, Sir F. Bruce, succeeded him as minister in China; and twelve months later (July, 1859) the ministers of the four powers were again at the mouth of the Peiho on their way to Peking for the exchange of ratified copies of the several treaties. The United States minister was John E. Ward, a noble-hearted son of Georgia, and the chief of our little squadron was the gallant old Commodore Tatnall.

 

We were not a little surprised to see the demolished forts completely rebuilt, and frowning defiance. We were told by officers who came down to the shore that no vessel would be allowed to pass; but that the way to Peking was open to us via Peitang, a small port to the north.

To this Mr. Ward made no objection, but the British, who had so recently held the keys of the capital, were indignant to be met by such a rebuff. They steamed ahead between the forts, leaving the Chinese to take the consequences. All at once the long line of batteries opened fire. One or two gunboats were sunk; two or three were stranded. A storming party was repulsed, and Admiral Hope, who was dangerously wounded, begged our American commodore to give him a lift by towing up a flotilla of barges filled with a reserve force. "Blood is thicker than water," exclaimed Tatnall, in tones that have echoed round the globe, and Ward making no objection, he threw neutrality to the winds, and proceeded to tow up the barges. Our little steamer was commanded by Lieutenant Barker, now Admiral Barker of the New York Navy Yard.

Even this failed to retrieve the day, the tide having fallen too low for a successful landing. For the British admiral nothing remained but to withdraw his shattered forces, and prepare for another campaign. For the United States minister a dazzling prospect now presented itself,–that of intervening to prevent the renewal of war. From Peitang we proceeded by land two days. Then we continued our voyage for five days by boat on the Upper Peiho.

At Peking, calling on the genial old Kweiliang, who had signed the treaty in 1858, Mr. Ward was astonished at his change of tone. "You wish to see the Emperor. That goes as a matter of course; but his Majesty knows you helped the British, and he requires that you go on your knees before the throne in token of repentance." "Tell him," said Mr. Ward to me, "that I go on my knees only to God and woman." "Is not the Emperor the same as God?" replied the old courtier, taking no notice of a tribute to woman that was unintelligible to an Oriental mind. "You need not really touch the ground with your knees," he continued; "but merely make a show of kneeling. There will be eunuchs at hand to lift you up, saying 'Don't kneel! Don't kneel!'" The eunuchs, as Mr. Ward well knew, would be more likely to push us to our knees than to lift us up; and he wisely decided to decline the honor of an audience on such terms.

Displeased by his obstinacy, the Emperor ordered him to quit the capital without delay, and exchange ratifications at the sea-coast. A report was long current in Peking that foreigners have no joints in their knees; hence their reluctance to kneel. Thus vanished for Mr. Ward the alluring prospect of winning for himself and his country the beatitude of the peacemaker.

The summer of 1860 saw the Peiho forts taken, and an allied force of thirty thousand men advancing on Peking. The court fled to Tartary, and the summer palace was laid in ashes to punish the violation of a flag of truce, the bearers of which were bound hand and foot, and left to perish within its walls. For three days the smoke of its burning, carried by a northwest wind, hung like a pall over the devoted city, whose inhabitants were so terrified that they opened the gates half an hour before the time set for bombardment. No soldiers were admitted, but the demands of the Allies were all acceded to, and supplementary treaties signed within the walls by Lord Elgin and Baron Gros. Peking was opened to foreign residence. The French succeeded in opening the whole country to the labors of missionaries. Legations were established at the capital, and a new era of peace and prosperity dawned on the distracted empire.

VI.
THE WAR WITH FRANCE

If the opening of Peking required a prolonged struggle, it was followed by a quarter-century of pacific intercourse. China had at her helm a number of wise statesmen,–such as Prince Kung and Wensiang. The Inspectorate of Customs begun under Mr. Lay took shape under the skilful management of Sir Robert Hart, and from that day to this it has proved to be a fruitful nursery of reforms, political and social.

Not only were students sent abroad for education at the instance and under the leadership of Yung Wing, but a school for interpreters was opened in the capital, which, through the influence of Sir Robert Hart, was expanded into the well-known Imperial College. On his nomination the present writer was called to the head of it, and Wensiang proposed to convert it into a great national university by making it obligatory on the members of the Hanlin Academy, the Emperor's "Forest of Pencils," to come there for a course of instruction in science and international law. Against this daring innovation, Wojin, a Manchu tutor of the Emperor, protested, declaring that it would be humiliating to China to have her choicest scholars sit at the feet of foreign professors. The scheme fell through, but before many years the Emperor himself had taken up the study of the English language, and two of our students were selected to be his instructors. One of them is at this present time (1902) Chinese minister at the Court of St. James. Several of our students have had diplomatic missions, and one, after serving as minister abroad, is now a leading member of the Board of Foreign Affairs in Peking. A press opened in connection with the college printed numerous text-books on international law, political economy, physics, and mathematics, translated by the president, professors, and students.

America was fortunate in the choice of the first minister whom she sent to reside at Peking. This was Anson Burlingame, who, after doing much to encourage the Chinese in the direction of progress, was by them made the head of the first embassy which they sent to foreign nations. His success in other countries was largely due to the sympathy with which he had been received in the United States by Secretary Seward, and to the advice and recommendations with which he was provided by that great statesman. So deep an interest did Mr. Seward take in China that he went in person to study its condition before the close of his career. In his visit to Peking he was accompanied by his nephew, George F. Seward, who was United States Consul at Shanghai. The latter has since that date worthily represented our country as minister at Peking; but it may be doubted whether in that high position he ever performed an international service equal in importance to one performed during his consulship, for which he has recently received the cross of the Legion of Honor. In laying out their new concession at Shanghai, the French had excited the hostility of the people by digging up and levelling down many of those graves that occupied so much space outside of the city walls, and where the Chinese who worshipped their ancestors were to be seen every day burning paper and heaping up the earth. A furious mob fell on the French police, chased them from the field, and menaced the French settlement with knife and firebrand. The consuls were appealed to for aid, but no one responded except Mr. Seward, who headed a strong force from one of our men-of-war, dispersed the mob, and secured the safety of the foreign settlement. But for his timely intervention who knows that the French consulate would not have been reduced to ashes? If the consulate had been burned down, a war would have been inevitable, with a chain of consequences that baffles the imagination.

In 1871 a horrid atrocity was perpetrated by Chinese at Tientsin which certainly would have led to war with France if Napoleon III. had not at that very time been engaged in mortal combat with Germany. The populace were made to believe that the sisters at the French hospital had been seen extracting the eyeballs from their patients to use in the manufacture of magical drugs. They were set upon by a maddened multitude, a score or more of them slaughtered, and the buildings where they had cared for the sick and suffering turned to a heap of ruins. Count Rocheschouart, instead of reserving the case to be settled at a later day, thought best to accept from the Chinese government an apology, with an ample sum in the way of pecuniary compensation. That grewsome superstition has led to bloodshed in more than one part of China.

In the summer of 1885 I was called one day from the Western Hills to the Tsungli-Yamen, or Foreign Office, on business of great urgency. On arriving, I was informed that the Chinese gunboats in the river Min had been sunk by the French the day before; that they had also destroyed the Arsenal at the mouth of the river. "This," said the Secretary, "means war, and we desire to know how non-combatants belonging to the enemy and resident in our country are to be treated according to the rules of International Law." While I was copying out the principles and precedents bearing on the subject, the same Secretary begged me to hasten my report, "because," said he, "the Grand Council is waiting for it to embody in an Imperial Decree." True enough, the next day a decree from the throne announced the outbreak of war; but it added that non-combatants belonging to the enemy would not be molested. Two of our professors were Frenchmen, and they were both permitted to continue in charge of their classes without molestation.

Hostilities were brought to a happy conclusion by the agency of Sir Robert Hart. One of his customs cruisers employed in the light-house service having been seized by the French, Mr. Campbell was sent to Paris to see the French President and petition for its release. Learning that President Grévy would welcome the restoration of peace, and ascertaining what conditions would be acceptable, Sir Robert laid them before the Chinese government, putting an end to a conflict which, if suffered to go on, might have ruined the interests of more than one country. In this war and in those peace negotiations the conduct of the Chinese was worthy of a civilized nation. Yet the result of their experience was to make them more ready to appeal to arms in cases of difficulty.

Li's connection with this war was very real, though not conspicuous. Changpeilun, director of the arsenal at Foochow, was his son-in-law. Not only was Li disposed to aid him in taking revenge, he was himself building a great arsenal in the north; and it was, no doubt, owing to efficient succor from this quarter that Formosa was able to hold out against the forces of the French.