Before Gordon captured Taitsan, it
will be remembered, he was on his way to attack the
city of Quinsan. Having accomplished his purpose
of assisting his allies, the Imperial troops, he reverted
to his original object. He wanted to leave Taitsan
to be held by the Imperialists, and at once to march
on Quinsan; but owing to the want of discipline in
his army, he was unable to do this. His men had
taken a large amount of loot from Taitsan, and were
anxious to dispose of it, and their young General,
much against his will, had to accept the inevitable.
With an army such as that which Gordon had under his
control, it does not do to draw tight the reins of
discipline too suddenly. It had for a long time
been in a lax condition, and Gordon saw that he must
gain the men’s confidence before sharply asserting
his authority. With an army well in hand, the
right thing would have been to follow up his victories
immediately, so that the enemy should not have time
to recover themselves. But instead of being able
to go on at once from Taitsan to Quinsan, he had to
return to headquarters, and there wait till the end
of May, reorganising and making preparations.
So bad was the discipline among his officers, that
just before he started for Quinsan, all the majors
commanding regiments resigned, simply because he promoted
his commissary-general, an English officer named Cooksby,
to the rank of colonel. This step was taken because
Gordon found that disputes were always occurring about
rations and quarters between the commissary-general
and the regimental commanders. As the latter had,
and the former had not, military rank, the commissary
was in an awkward position. Gordon therefore
decided that, the commissary being one of his most
important staff officers, he ought not only to have
military rank, but that his rank should be of a superior
kind. It is worthy of note that in this respect
Gordon was just twenty years ahead of the War Office
authorities, for it was not till the year 1884 that
commissariat officers in the English army were accorded
military rank. The amusing part of the outbreak
of insubordination amongst Gordon’s majors was,
that though they resigned their commissions, they asked
that they might be allowed for the sake of loot to
accompany the expedition to Quinsan. Gordon accepted
the resignations, but declined to let the majors take
part in his expedition. But he had to yield this
point; for on the following day, when the “fall
in” sounded, the men supported their commanding
officers, and refused to obey. The majors, however,
seeing that there was only one General, and that he
might be killed, in which event the command would
probably devolve on one of themselves, thought better
of the matter, and fell in with their men as usual.
The only wonder is that, with such an army and such
disorganised material, the young commander should
have been able to accomplish so much against overwhelming
numbers.
When Gordon reached Quinsan, he found
the Imperial troops under Governor Li and General
Ching in a most unfortunate position. They were
supposed to be besieging the city, but the enemy were
practically besieging them. Gordon quickly drove
off the enemy that were seeking to encompass the Imperialists,
and then he found that General Ching was anxious to
attack the eastern gate of the city, a proceeding that
did not at all commend itself to him. He saw
at a glance that the western gate would probably be
the better one to attack, as the enemy would be less
prepared there. Quinsan was an important place,
and was strongly defended; it was held by at least
15,000 men, and the moat round the fortification was
forty feet wide. Before coming to a definite
decision, Gordon made a reconnaissance in a steamer,
taking the Governor and General Ching with him.
Being convinced by personal observation that he was
right in the step he intended to take, he informed
the Chinese General to that effect, and in a letter
written some little time after the event he says,
“General Ching was as sulky as a bear when he
was informed that I thought it advisable to take these
stockades the next day, and to attack on this side
of the city.”
At dawn on the 30th May, having surrounded
the city with his own and the Imperialist troops,
he took a small force by water to a point on the main
line of communication between Quinsan and Soo-chow,
only defended by a weak stockade, which was easily
taken. Gordon then took the celebrated little
steamer the Hyson, and went towards Soo-chow.
Meeting a large force of the enemy on the way to reinforce
Quinsan, he opened fire upon them. Little anticipating
an attack in this direction, they got into confusion
and fled, the steamer following them. Having
inflicted heavy loss on the retreating army and steamed
right up to Soo-chow, he turned round and went at
full speed till he got back to Chunye, where he had
that morning left a small detachment of riflemen.
It was 10.30 P.M. and a rather dark night. His
intention was to wait till the next morning and renew
the conflict by attacking the city. But the rebels
within the walls had been seized with panic, and knowing
that the city was invested on three sides, they made
a rush for Soo-chow. In doing so they met Gordon’s
steamer returning. Again she opened fire and
blew her whistle, the sound of the latter doing much
damage by adding to the noise and increasing the panic
among the rebels. The men were in dense masses,
and each shell mowed them down in large numbers.
Gordon says, “The mass wavered, yelled and turned
back.” The city had fallen, and by 4 A.M.
on May 31st everything was quiet, and it was reckoned
that from three to four thousand of the enemy must
have been killed, drowned, or taken prisoners.
The little steamer had won the day, having fired some
eighty or ninety rounds; the troops had done little
or nothing. Only two men on Gordon’s side
were killed and five were drowned.
Thus in a single day had fallen this
important city, which was the key to the position
of Soo-chow. Indeed, the impetuous young commander
was anxious to dash on and seize Soo-chow itself,
but he could not inspire the Imperialist General with
his spirit. He says, “I have no doubt of
my having been able to take Soo-chow the other day,
if the Mandarins had been able to take advantage of
our success.” The capture of Quinsan was
one of the most brilliant strokes of success Gordon
had during the whole of the campaign, and he attributed
it to the fact that the lines of communication between
that city and Soo-chow were neglected, and that he
was permitted to get his steamer into the canal, which
ran parallel with the only road. Both the armies
which he defeated were compelled to march along the
road, as on each side of the road there was water.
Through the men marching thus in dense masses, the
shot and shell from the steamer carried death and
destruction, creating much confusion. The Taiping
rebels were evidently not prepared to fight such an
amphibious general as Gordon proved himself to be.
It may be well to remark here on the
fertility of resource and the initiative power which
this young commander possessed. It mattered not
what difficulties arose, his fertile brain sooner or
later devised a method by which he could overcome
them. It is said that the best doctor is not
necessarily the cleverest man, but the one who is most
fertile in resource. If disorders of the human
frame refuse to yield to one kind of treatment, another
must be tried, and so on, until at last the right
method is discovered. There can be no question
that this is also true of the military and other callings
in life. The man of a fertile brain, ever ready
to suggest new methods when old ones have failed, is
the most likely to succeed. It was to this cause,
more than to any other, that Napoleon at first owed
his success. When he was a young man, it was
the custom in Europe to imitate blindly the tactics
of Frederick the Great of Prussia, and to rely on
ponderous heavy squares and a slow stiff method of
moving. Napoleon was the first to see that, however
suitable such tactics had been during the time of the
great Prussian general, before the development of
artillery, they were not adapted to the changed circumstances
under which battles were fought in his own time; and
so in 1806 at Jena he smashed to pieces the Prussian
force, which came against him in all the pride of inherited
traditions, handed down from one of the greatest generals
of his age. While it is almost a truism to say
that what is appropriate to one age is not suited
to another, it is only men of the type of Napoleon
and Gordon who are quick enough to see the necessity
for a change of method, and sufficiently resourceful
to adopt new plans. Ninety-nine generals out
of a hundred would never have thought of utilising
a little steamer to destroy a land force, but would
have proceeded in the old-fashioned methods of a siege,
and perhaps have lost an enormous number of men in
the process. The enemy are always more or less
prepared for conventional methods of fighting, but
it stands to reason that they are unprepared for new
ideas. Hence much of Gordon’s success.
In addition to this fertility of resource,
Gordon displayed wonderful courage in carrying out
his ideas. No sooner had Quinsan fallen than he
saw that it would be a good thing to make a change
in his headquarters, and to transfer them thence from
Sung-kiang. With the old centre were associated
all sorts of traditions connected with the army before
his time, in the days when discipline was lax, and
the one idea of the soldiers was that the war was
being carried on for the sake of providing them with
loot. There were loot agents and other means by
which the officers and soldiers could easily dispose
of their booty. All this was demoralising, so
Gordon decided on an immediate change. But the
army looked at the matter from a different standpoint,
and a mutinous spirit arose. Mr. Wilson informs
us that the artillery threatened to blow the officers
to pieces, and a written notification to that effect
was sent to the General. Gordon at once summoned
the non-commissioned officers, who he knew were at
the bottom of the plot, and threatened to shoot every
fifth man if the name of the writer of the notice
were not revealed. Immediately they all commenced
to groan, one corporal making himself specially conspicuous
by groaning very loudly. Whether Gordon had any
suspicions with regard to this particular man, we
are not informed, but he directed him to be seized,
and ordered a couple of infantry soldiers standing
by to shoot him. He then had the others confined,
and again repeated his threat to the effect that one
in every five would be shot if the name of the writer
were not given up. Events proved that the corporal
already shot was the culprit. No doubt many in
this country will judge Gordon harshly with regard
to this summary method of dealing out justice; but
it must be remembered that a civil war was going on
in which thousands of lives were annually sacrificed.
Gordon knew perfectly well that he could suppress
it if he had a disciplined force under him. He
also knew what a frightful scourge an undisciplined
army might become. According to the tradition
of all nations, each man in Gordon’s army had
forfeited his life by disobedience in the presence
of the enemy. What was the life of one man compared
with the thousands of women and children who were
suffering through the horrors of that war? We
in England have been for so long mercifully spared
the misery of war in our own country, that possibly
public opinion has become a little too sentimental.
During the Trafalgar Square riots in 1887, it was suggested
by some that the Fire Brigade should pump cold water
on to the rioters in order to disperse them; and one
writer seriously deprecated such a step, on the ground
that possibly the poor fellows who got the ducking
might catch cold! It is possible to go from one
extreme to another, and, while wishing to avoid harshness
and cruelty in any form, to become too sentimental,
and thus do harm in an opposite direction. Sentimental
people too often forget the sufferings of the many
innocent victims when contemplating those of a few
culprits. War is too stern a thing for us to
trifle with, and those whose duty it is to be engaged
in it must be prepared to suppress with a strong hand
anything in the form of incipient mutiny.
With regard to the threat which Gordon
held out of shooting one man in five, such a form
of punishment is by no means uncommon in countries
more civilised than China. It has been frequently
resorted to in Russia, and as recently as 1876, during
the Russo-Turkish war, on symptoms of a mutiny exhibiting
themselves among the Russian troops, the commander-in-chief
threatened to shoot one in every ten of the men, and
thus quelled the manifestation. There can be no
question that Gordon’s acting as he did was
far more plucky than all the personal exposure to
danger through which he went. Many men who would
be willing to sacrifice their own lives in the path
of duty would have shrunk from taking such a step.
But though Gordon was quite prepared
to fight as long as he could benefit his fellow-creatures
by so doing, he was essentially a man of peace, and
he loathed the horrors of war. On the 29th June
he says: “The rebels remain very quiet,
and we are engaged in organising another attack upon
them. I have, however, sent a letter to the rebel
chiefs, offering my good services towards any arrangements
they may be inclined to enter into with the Imperialists,
by which more fighting may be avoided. I am most
anxious to have as little fighting as possible, and
shall do my best to bring about a pacific solution
of the question.” This was the more magnanimous
when we consider that he was perfectly confident in
the ultimate result of the conflict, and that in the
way of glory acquired by brilliant victories he had
everything to gain in terminating the war by force
of arms instead of by diplomacy.
The rebels at this time had received
a great addition of strength by Burgevine going over
to them, together with upwards of 300 English, American,
and other adventurers. On this subject Gordon
says:
“The fact that Burgevine has joined
the rebels will no doubt very much prolong the
rebellion, which, humanly speaking, would almost have
been put down this year, or at the latest next spring;
but the force at my command is too small to do
everything, and one has to act with great caution.
I feel that I have so many lives intrusted to
me, that these are, as it were, at my disposal, and
I will not risk them in an enterprise I consider
rash. Burgevine is a very foolish fellow,
and little thinks of the immense misery he will cause
this unhappy country, for of the ultimate suppression
of the rebellion I have little doubt.”
In another letter he says, “I
think the rebels will soon get very tired of their
auxiliaries, and the latter of the rebels.”
The worst thing, however, that Gordon
had to fear was treachery on the part of his own officers
and men. Burgevine knew most of them well, and
had managed very skilfully to associate his own dismissal
from the command of the Ever-Victorious Army with
the fact that he was striving for the interests of
the men and officers. Consequently he was to a
certain extent a martyr in their eyes, and he made
the most of this fact in endeavouring to corrupt some
of Gordon’s officers. For Burgevine was
not more successful in alluring Gordon’s army
from its allegiance than in defeating it in open conflict.
Having made one or two unsuccessful attempts, and
discovered that the brilliant young commander was
more than a match for him, he asked Gordon to meet
him at an appointed place, where he told him that
he had determined to desert the rebel cause.
This did not surprise Gordon. What did astonish
him was that Burgevine went on to propose that Gordon
and he should together capture Soo-chow, throw off
all allegiance to either Imperialists or rebels, organise
an army 20,000 strong, and set up an independent kingdom
of their own. Being a mere adventurer himself,
he little understood the man of honour with whom he
had to deal. Gordon at once cut short further
communications. Burgevine and his men, however,
being so disgusted with their masters, decided to leave
them at all costs, and sent to inform Gordon that
at a signal-rocket being fired by him they would rush
out under pretence of a sortie and join him. The
signal was given, the sortie was made, and a good many
got away, but Burgevine and a few others had been
suspected, and detained. When Gordon discovered
this, he generously wrote to the rebel chiefs, explained
to them that it was against their interests to compel
men to fight against their will, and asked for their
release. The messenger who bore the letter was
interrogated as to whether he thought it possible
for Gordon to be bought over, and his reply was of
course in the negative. Strange to say, Gordon’s
request was granted, and Burgevine was released and
handed over to the British Consul. Dr. Wilson
informs us that:
“At the very time Burgevine was
negotiating with Gordon in regard to his relief,
he had proposed to Jones, his lieutenant, a plan for
entrapping the man whose efforts were being directed
toward the succour of him and his followers.
Jones revolted against treachery so base, and
he and Burgevine had a ‘difficulty.’
Jones told the story thus: Burgevine drew
out his revolver, which he cocked and discharged
at my head from a distance of about nine inches.
The bullet entered my cheek and passed upward;
it has not yet been extracted. I exclaimed,
‘You have shot your best friend!’ His
answer was, ‘I know I have, and I wish to
God I had killed you.’”
We hear no more of Burgevine in connection
with Gordon, so we here part company with him.
According to Mr. Wilson, he had subsequently a very
chequered career, and finally was reported to have
been drowned by accident when a prisoner in the hands
of the Imperialists. This writer says, “I
have no reason to suppose that the account of his death
given by the Chinese authorities was untrue; and if
they did drown him purposely, they saved themselves
and the American authorities a good deal of trouble.”
The only wonder is that a scoundrel who so thoroughly
deserved to be hanged should ever have found a watery
grave.
After the Taipings had got rid of
Burgevine and his followers, they began to lose heart,
for they felt that the principal reason why these
men had deserted their cause was that it was a losing
one. They thought that their chances of holding
Soo-chow against the ubiquitous Gordon were slight,
and, as is often the case under such circumstances,
they underrated their own resources, and overrated
those of their opponents. They made sure that
Gordon would soon assault the city, but this he had
no intention of doing. “With the small force
at one’s command,” said he, “I am
not at all anxious to pit myself against a town garrisoned
by seven, or even ten times our number, if it can
be avoided.” Instead of attempting an open
assault, which must have resulted in a desperate loss
of life, Gordon gradually surrounded the city with
his own and the Imperial troops, capturing all the
smaller places around it, so that it might be completely
invested. Here again he exhibited his quick perception
of the weak points in his opponents’ character.
Even the greatest coward amongst our own countrymen
would fight desperately if he felt that all his means
of retreat were cut off; but, strange as it may seem,
this is not a characteristic of all nations. Once
let a Chinaman feel that his means of retreat are
destroyed, and he is filled with panic. Gordon
says, “The great thing in taking stockades from
the rebels is to cut off their retreat, and the chances
are they will go without trouble; but attack them
in front, and leave their rear open, and they will
fight most desperately.”
Interesting as it would be to many,
space does not permit us to follow the details of
the siege, and the severe struggles Gordon had in
different places, when capturing strongholds of the
enemy in order to cut off their supplies. There
are, however, a few personal incidents that occurred
at this time which deserve mention, in order to show
what marvellous escapes he had, and what great personal
danger he was often in. Once when sitting on
the Patachow Bridge, a somewhat celebrated structure
of fifty-three arches and 300 yards long, which he
had captured from the enemy, a couple of shots from
his own camp struck the bridge close to him.
He was alone, and he could not account for the firing.
Leaving his seat to ascertain the cause, he got into
his boat and started to row across the river, when
suddenly an enormous mass of masonry fell from the
very spot where he had been sitting, and nearly struck
the boat. These two accidental or shall
we more correctly call them providential? shots
saved his life. Again, on the assault of Leeku,
he discovered that one of his officers, Lieutenant
Perry, had been in communication with the enemy.
When challenged, this officer made an excuse which
Gordon accepted, saying, “I shall pass over your
fault this time, on condition that, in order to show
your loyalty, you undertake to lead the next forlorn
hope.” But Gordon forgot his decision,
and was leading the forlorn hope himself, when suddenly
an officer next to him was struck down. That
officer was Lieutenant Perry, who fell into the arms
of his commander. Many of Gordon’s officers
were brave men, but not a few of them exhibited the
white feather, and he had, in order to set an example
of personal courage, often to take the lead.
Sometimes he would take one of these timid ones by
the arm, and, in his quiet way, conduct him into the
thick of the fight. His men used to think he
had a charmed life, and they termed the little cane
which he always carried in place of a sword “the
magic wand of victory.”
There is one incident which should
be mentioned here, although the public did not hear
of it for many years after it occurred. When the
Ashantee expedition was contemplated, and speculation
was rife as to whom the command should be offered
to, somebody wrote to the Times, signing himself
“Mandarin,” and, among other things which
he mentioned about Gordon, said that during the month
of September, before the capture of Soo-chow, Gordon
had decided to attack certain detached forts around
that place. For some reason his men again mutinied,
and refused to march off the parade-ground.
“At this juncture General Gordon
arrived on the spot, with his interpreter.
He was on foot, in undress, apparently unarmed, and,
as usual, exceedingly cool, quiet, and undemonstrative.
Directly he approached the leading company, he
ordered his interpreter to direct every man who
refused to embark to step to the front. One man
only advanced. General Gordon drew his revolver
from an inside breast-pocket, presented it at
the soldier’s head, and desired the interpreter
to direct the man to march straight to the barge and
embark. The order was immediately complied
with, and then, General Gordon giving the necessary
word of command, the company followed without
hesitation. It was generally allowed by the officers,
when the event became known, that the success
in this instance was solely due to the awe and
respect in which General Gordon was held by the
men; and that such was the spirit of the troops at
the time, that had any other but he attempted
what he did, the company would have broken into
open mutiny, shot their officers, and committed the
wildest excesses. In less than a week the spirit
of the troops was as excellent as before, and
gradually the whole garrison joined in a series
of movements which culminated in the fall of Soo-chow.”