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.