Read CHAPTER VI - END OF THE REBELLION of General Gordon A Christian Hero , free online book, by Seton Churchill, on ReadCentral.com.

The city of Soo-chow was in the possession of seven rebel generals, each exercising an independent command, but all recognising one of their number, Moh-Wang, as their head. Though the rebels had upwards of 40,000 men in the city, they were badly provided with food, and dissensions broke out among them. Most of the generals were for yielding, but the brave old chieftain, Moh-Wang, opposed such a step. Some of the generals made overtures to Gordon and General Ching, making no other condition than that their lives should be spared. But overtures were of no use so long as Moh-Wang refused to acquiesce. A council of war was summoned, and hot words passed. One general seized the brave old warrior, whose spirit was so invincible, stabbed him, and severed his head from his body. That night, November 29, 1863, Soo-chow, which had been held by the rebels since 1860, was surrendered. In order to prevent his men from looting it, Gordon sent them back to Quinsan, but he asked Governor Li to grant them two months’ extra pay, which was denied, though later on one month’s pay was granted. This meanness on the part of the civil Governor to a body of men who had done so much for the country very nearly led to a mutiny.

The culminating point of the young commander’s grievances against his employers was yet to come. On December 6th, when Gordon visited the captured city, he discovered that the rebel generals who had surrendered had all been killed, in spite of the stipulation that their lives were to be spared. It is said that Gordon was so enraged with this cowardly treachery that he burst into tears, and then went forth, revolver in hand, to seek the Governor, in order to shoot him. It is to be regretted that Sir Henry Gordon, in his biography of his brother, denies this circumstance. Nothing is gained by attempting to screen the faults of a great man. The commander of the Ever-Victorious Army was undeniably a great man, but it is also true that he had his share of human failings, among them a tendency to act on the impulse of the moment. His honour had been touched, he felt that he had been disgraced and would appear in the light of one who could trample on a fallen foe, and there can be no question as to the accuracy of the fact, that in his impulsiveness he did seek the life of Li Hung Chung; though the Governor afterwards became a bosom friend of his. Mr. Wilson, another biographer, who has already been quoted, read his MS. over to Gordon, so that his account is likely to be accurate. In it he says:

“His first impulse, when his two steamers came in sight, was to obtain hold of the Futai (Governor Li) and inflict summary justice on that high official. General Ching, however, gave timely warning of Gordon’s incensed state, and Li very wisely hurried into the city, thus avoiding a meeting. For some days after this Gordon’s anxiety to meet with the Futai was only equalled by that of the Futai to keep out of his way, and this was the only period of his campaign during which the commander of the Ever-Victorious Army burdened himself with carrying arms.”

The last words of this quotation, which I have italicised, clearly indicate what the nature of the summary punishment would have been had the two men met. Gordon had an opportunity of striking out those words, but he was too honest to do so, for he knew they were true. Even though we may blame him for his actions, we cannot but admire the honesty that would not allow the fact to be concealed.

Both as a matter of policy and a matter of honour, Gordon saw what a fearful mistake had been made. He was of opinion that had an honourable understanding been come to with the rebels at this time, every other city in their hands would have yielded, and thus the rebellion would have been terminated. He at once demanded an investigation into the conduct of Governor Li and General Ching, and refused to co-operate with them further. While Gordon was taking action in this matter, Governor Li was sending despatches to Pekin claiming far more credit than was fairly due for the Imperial troops, though he did not forget to praise Gordon as well. The Emperor sent the young commander 10,000 taels (about L3500) in token of his approbation, together with money for the troops and the wounded. The latter was accepted, but the former was indignantly declined, and that in a very few stiff sentences written on the back of the paper containing the order:

“Major Gordon receives the approbation of his Majesty the Emperor with every gratification, but regrets most sincerely that, owing to circumstances which occurred since the capture of Soo-chow, he is unable to receive any mark of his Majesty the Emperor’s recognition, and therefore respectfully begs his Majesty to receive his thanks for his intended kindness, and to allow him to decline the same.”

Writing home he said, “To tell you the truth, I do not want anything, either money or honours, from either the Chinese Government or our own. As for the honours, I do not value them at all, and never did. I should have refused the 10,000 taels even if everything had gone well, and there had been no trouble at Soo-chow.”

Gordon’s army remained at Quinsan till the end of February 1864. They had received L7000 from the Chinese Government, but this, of course, did not compensate them for being prevented from taking their share of loot, and not only were they dissatisfied, but their inaction was doubtless doing them much harm. Moreover, the rebel forces were recruiting rapidly, and all the good work that Gordon had accomplished appeared likely to be undone. Gordon heard all the excuses that Governor Li had to offer, and came to the conclusion that Asiatics must not be judged according to the standard by which Englishmen, with a higher sense of honour, measure themselves. He therefore made up his mind to emerge from his retreat, and, stipulating that in the event of future capitulations nothing should be done without his consent, he once more took the field with the object of terminating the rebellion.

On the 17th February 1864 he had been promoted to the rank of lieutenant-colonel by the War Office authorities. This, of course, made no difference to his position as general in the Chinese army. His resumption of hostilities was marked by similar tactics to those which he had previously found so successful. Blows rapidly struck at distant points appear to have been his aim. Having captured Soo-chow, the next place of importance was Nankin, the second largest city in China, about 100 miles to the north-west. The rebels were in strong force there, and the place was too distant to make it practicable to capture it, at once, as there were several cities en route still in the hands of the rebels. Gordon decided to take these latter in detail, and he commenced with Yesing, which fell easily on March 1st. He then proceeded to Liyang, which yielded even more easily. The horrors witnessed on this march were awful. Gordon said of the inhabitants:

“Those who still remained alive had been driven to eat human flesh, and the unburied bodies of the dead were in a condition which showed that much of this revolting food had been consumed.” “The scenes I have witnessed of misery are something dreadful; and I must say that your wish for me to return with the work incomplete would not be expressed if you saw the state of these poor people. The horrible furtive looks of the wretched inhabitants hovering about one’s boats haunts me.... I hope to get the Shanghai people to assist, but they do not see these things: and to read that there are human beings eating human flesh produces less effect than if they saw the corpses from which the flesh is cut.”

Gordon’s fate was to be hampered by the blunders of his friends. On March 20th he marched on Kintang; but just as he was about to commence operations, an alarming despatch reached him from the Imperial commander. The Imperialists had actually not been able, with their immense force, to hold cities that Gordon with his small one had captured and handed over to their charge. Fushan had fallen, and Chanzu was in danger. However, Gordon thought that as he was so close to Kintang, he might as well take it, and so he made an assault. It did not, however, yield so easily, and Major Kirkham, one of his best officers, was badly wounded. Gordon himself was also wounded below the knee. A soldier who saw him struck was about to proclaim the event, when Gordon stopped him for fear he should discourage the men. He went on fighting till he fainted from loss of blood, and Dr. Moffitt had to carry him out of action.

Sir Frederick Bruce, the British representative, wrote to Colonel Gordon after he was wounded at Kintang:

“Be cautious of yourself. I beg you not to look upon your position merely from a military point of view. You have done quite enough for your reputation as a gallant and skilful leader. We all look to you as the only person fit to act with these perverse Chinese, and to be trusted with the great interests at stake at Shanghai. Your life and ability to keep the field are more important than the capture of any city in China.”

Gordon had to abandon further attempts to take Kintang, and retire on Liyang. Here he took to his steamer, as he could no longer march owing to his wound, the first and last that he ever had. With 1000 men he started on March 24th for Woosieh, to find that the rebels who had been threatening that place had fallen back. On the following day, lying on his back in a steamer, and accompanied by a flotilla, Gordon made a dash with the 1000 men he had right into the midst of the country held by the rebels, in order to ascertain their disposition of troops. Well might Colonel Chesney say, “One scarcely knows here whether most to admire the pluck, or to wonder at the confidence of the wounded commander!” He quickly took in the whole situation, and made up his mind that a place called Waisso, which was held by the enemy in some force, was the point at which to aim. Unfortunately, he was unable to get about himself, yet he could not take the entire force, which had been increased by one more battalion, on board. Consequently he had to divide it, leaving a detachment to go by land. The officers put in charge seem to have fallen into every mistake it was possible for soldiers to make. The attacking regiments did not co-operate, their flanks were left unprotected, and a long gap was permitted to occur between two regiments. To make a long story short, the assault failed, the assailants narrowly escaping annihilation. Unquestionably this signal failure was due to the fact that the commander, being wounded, could not see to details himself, and was obliged to leave his principal arm, the infantry, to the direction of others.

Fortunately the Imperialists with 6000 men came to Gordon’s assistance. The Imperial force had been doing remarkably well in their recent conflict with the enemy, but unfortunately had lost their commander, General Ching. This man, who at first had been so jealous of Gordon, had afterwards learnt to know and respect him, and Gordon had acquired quite an affection for him in spite of his faults. Gordon was deeply grieved to hear of his death, indeed it is said that he burst into tears. It is touching to read an account of the death of this heathen general, who, it will be remembered, had been a leading man among the rebels before they degenerated. Mr. Hake’s account is founded on the statement of Governor Li, who says that even when he knew his wound was fatal, he concentrated his mind on the affairs of the country. He pointed out that though the rebels had been beaten, their strength was not to be despised, and begged his colleague to order his officers to be careful in battle. He remarked that brave men were not easily to be found, and he bitterly regretted his own fate, by which he was prevented from doing his duty to his country. When gradually sinking, he ordered his servant to bring the yellow jacket presented to him by the Emperor, and to assist him on with it. He then bowed his head towards the Imperial Palace, and thus he yielded up his brave patriotic spirit.

After the junction of the Imperialists with Gordon’s force there was little difficulty in the capture of Waisso, and with the fall of that place on April 6th it became evident that the campaign was fast drawing to a close, the only places of any importance remaining in the hands of the rebels being Nankin and Chanchufu. The former Gordon left to the Imperialists, who felt confident of victory, and were very jealous of the successful young soldier. Indeed, it is evident that they could easily have taken Chanchufu also, but they apparently were in no hurry to close the campaign. Many of them were mere mercenaries, who did not want to remove the raison-d’etre for their existence as an army. Strong suspicion exists that an incident which occurred soon after Gordon reached Chanchufu, and when he was making preparations for the attack, was really an attempt on his life. He and Major Tapp, a clever artillery officer, were engaged in the construction of a battery, when suddenly one of the picquets fired a volley at the battery, and the rebels, not knowing the cause, fired also. Gordon and his party were thus between two fires, and Major Tapp and several others were killed.

The first assault on Chanchufu was made by the Imperialists, and defeated. Gordon was then asked to co-operate in another assault, which he did; but not being supported by the Imperialists, he also failed. After this a combined assault was made, and again it failed. Seeing that the place was too strongly defended for an ordinary assault, Gordon taught the Imperialists how to approach it by means of trenches. Another assault was made by the Imperialists, who were on the point of being driven back again, when Gordon came to their rescue, and the stronghold was taken. When the rebel commander was captured he said that, except for the aid of Gordon and his men, he could have defied all the Futai hosts to take the city from him. The garrison was 20,000 strong; the place was skilfully fortified; and the rebels, thinking that they would receive no quarter, fought with great desperation and recklessness of life.

With the capture of Chanchufu ends the list of Gordon’s fights in China. His next care was to break up the Ever-Victorious Army. He knew this to be very important, for he felt that they would be a standing danger to the country. With men like Burgevine about, who were not wanting in skill, and were as unprincipled as they were daring, it was impossible to say what might happen if the command of such an army fell into bad hands. The Chinese Government behaved very generously, giving each wounded officer L900, and others on a similar scale. In a letter written home, Gordon says:

The losses I have sustained in this campaign have been no joke: out of one hundred officers I have had forty-eight killed and wounded; and out of 3500 men, nearly 1000 killed and wounded; but I have the satisfaction of knowing that, as far as mortal can see, six months will see the end of this rebellion, while if I had continued inactive it might have lingered on for six years. Do not think that I am ill-tempered, but I do not care one jot about my promotion or what people may say. I know I shall leave China as poor as I entered it, but with the knowledge that through my weak instrumentality upwards of eighty to one hundred thousand lives have been spared. I want no further satisfaction than this.”

A large sum of money was offered to Gordon and at first declined; but when pressed to accept it, he decided to do so, and divide it among his men. His pay had been good, being over L3000 per annum, but, in his usual generous manner, he had spent it almost entirely on his men, especially in providing comforts for the sick and wounded.

The last fight had taken place on May 11th, and by June 1st Gordon had disbanded his army, his promptness exhibiting itself to the very last. “So parted the Ever-Victorious Army,” says Colonel Chesney in his “Essays on Modern Military Biography,” “from its general, and its brief but useful existence came to an end. During sixteen months’ campaigning under his guidance it had taken four cities and a dozen minor strong places, fought innumerable combats, put hors de combat numbers of the enemy, moderately estimated at fifteen times its own, and finding the rebellion vigorous, aggressive, and almost threatening the unity of the Chinese Empire, had left it at its last gasp, confined to the ruined capital of the usurper.”

Gordon paid a visit to the Imperialists who were investing Nankin, where he interested himself in their mode of conducting the siege, and gave a good deal of useful advice as to the future existence of the Imperial army. Beyond this he took no active part. Nankin fell; the “Heavenly King,” who was the author of the rebellion, committed suicide; and Chung Wang, his celebrated general, was beheaded, permission being given to him at his own request that he might first write his autobiography. One cannot but feel that it would have been an act of policy as well as of clemency had the Emperor spared the life of this noble fellow Chung Wang, more especially as the so-called Heavenly King had committed suicide. As long as he was alive Chung Wang showed a loyalty to him that was worthy of a better cause. He might easily have escaped with his life but that he was anxious to save the life of the son of the Heavenly King, a worthless individual, with all the faults of his father and none of his ability. Chung Wang gave up his fleet-footed horse to the young man, who did not even know how to make use of the chance thus given him. The loyalty Chung Wang displayed to the rebel chief might easily have been transferred to the Emperor. Governor Li we shall hear of again, for when Gordon revisited China in 1880 he found his old friend still alive and active. There can be no doubt that Gordon’s personal influence over this man was considerable, and when we next hear of him it is as standing almost alone among his countrymen, pleading for a peaceable policy. The latter part of the following letter, which he wrote to Gordon when in the Soudan, shows that he had imbibed a good deal of that public spiritedness which made Gordon so willing to sacrifice himself for the good of others. The letter was dated March 22, 1879. Li Hung said:

“I am right glad to hear from you. It is now fourteen years since we parted from each other. Although I have not written to you, I often speak of you, and remember you with very great interest. The benefit you have conferred on China does not disappear with your person, but is felt throughout the regions in which you played so important and active a part. All these people bless you for the blessings of peace and prosperity which they now enjoy. Your achievements in Egypt are well known throughout the civilised world. I see often in the papers of your noble works on the upper Nile. You are a man of ample resources, with which you suit yourself to any kind of emergency. My hope is that you may long be spared to improve the condition of the people among whom your lot is cast. I am striving hard to advance my people to a higher state of development, and to unite both this and all other nations within the four seas under one common brotherhood.”

An amusing circumstance was the utter bewilderment of the Regent of China, Prince Kung, as to how he could reward Gordon. The money offered he had refused for himself, and as for honours and distinctions they had no charms for him. He accepted the yellow jacket, the highest distinction the Chinese Emperor could confer (corresponding to our Knight of the Garter), but this he did only to please his parents, not because he valued it himself. Prince Kung called on the English Minister at Shanghai and said, “You will be surprised to see me again, but I felt I could not allow you to leave without coming to see you about Gordon. We do not know what to do. He will not receive money from us, and we have already given him every honour which it is in the power of the Emperor to bestow; but as these can be of little value in his eyes, I have brought you this letter, and ask you to give it to the Queen of England, that she may bestow on him some reward which would be more valuable in his eyes.”

Gordon had already been awarded a brevet lieutenant-colonelcy in the Royal Engineers, so he was now made a Commander of the Bath; but he was as indifferent to English honours as to those of the Chinese. As for Prince Kung’s letter to Queen Victoria, we are informed by Mr. Hake that he has good reason to believe it never reached the Queen, but was allowed to remain in a pigeon-hole in the Foreign Office! Well may we quote the words of Axel Oxenstiern to his son, to which the late Prince Consort once referred in a letter to the late Emperor of Germany, at that time Crown Prince of Prussia, “Oh, my son, mark how little wisdom goes to the government of states.” Mr. Hake also informs us that when General Gordon presented himself at the War Office, the Secretary of State seemed hardly to have heard his name, and knew nothing of his work in China. Yet this was the man that at the age of thirty had saved from ruin the largest empire of the world! We are indeed a marvellous people. We are always manufacturing sham heroes, and parading them before the world. Yet when we have a real one in our midst we utterly ignore him. When one thinks of the many campaigns in which England has been engaged since the Chinese war was over, the public may well be astonished at a military system which allowed one of its ablest soldiers to live in obscurity, and not even be consulted in the affairs of the nation. Sir William Butler with withering scorn says:

“Nay, he was almost a stranger in his own land, and, when nearly a generation had passed away, and the fruit of many blunders had accumulated in Egypt a load of disaster that seemed too heavy to be borne, Gordon was at last called from the obscurity in which he had been so long consigned he was, his own brother has told us, as a person who was now heard of for the first time.”

A report has been circulated that he was offered the command of the Ashantee Expedition and declined it. This report has absolutely no foundation. The truth of the matter is that he never was offered a command on active service of any kind by the British authorities. Those who manage the affairs of other nations were able to recognise the merits of this remarkable man, and to find opportunities for him to exercise his powers, but our own authorities seem to have been absolutely blind to his qualities. Yet this was he of whom Colonel Chesney, a great writer on military matters, said, “If there is a man in the world who can conduct a war with honour, thoroughness, and humanity, and bring it to a satisfactory close without needless delay or expense, England has that man in ‘Chinese Gordon.’” It is, of course, quite possible that every army has some men of military genius, whose services are never utilised in positions of importance, for the simple reason that they are unknown to the authorities. There is no profession in which it is more difficult to pick out the born leaders than is the case in the army. Plenty of men who promise well when in a subordinate position prove miserable failures when in command. Men who can pass examinations with flying colours are not always able to make use of their knowledge in the field. A foreign power had, however, provided a field in which one of our officers was able to show what wonderful military instincts he possessed. It is therefore all the more difficult to find excuses for those who were responsible for the fact that, as far as England was concerned, Gordon was allowed to live in obscurity, and was never even offered a command of any sort in any of the campaigns in which his countrymen were engaged.