China's Revolution, 1911-1912: A Historical and Political Record of the Civil War

by Edwin John Dingle

On the day that I set out to have my talk with Li Yuan Hung, Wuchang, the capital city, of Hupeh, which had revolted to a man, bore every evidence of victory; and despite the minor reverses that the Republican Army had for several days been suffering in their encounters with the Imperial Army, sent down from Peking under General Yin Chang to quell the rebellion, I found that in the city there was infinitely greater hope among the people and infinitely stronger confidence in their leader than in the early days of the Revolution. One felt that he was touching the bedrock of humanity, had come into grips with a people who with one set purpose were going forward day by day to accomplish the true work of winning back China for the Chinese. As one passed through the streets, around the forts, in and out among the men who were with their lives prepared to buy freedom for Manchu-ridden China, one realised that this part of the Chinese nation, hitherto as silent as some great sleeping monster, had suddenly found its voice, and had set out determinedly to tell the world what it meant to do. Around one was waging civil war that was to decide the enormous stakes. There had been many civil wars in the world before—Wars of the Roses and many others which had had their historical significance—but as one seemed to gaze out upon a great country like China and a people who go to make up one-fourth of the human race, slowly was the fact borne in upon one's mind that this civil war had a significance that perhaps belonged to none other. It seemed like a war of belief against unbelief. One felt that he had met men who were concerned only with the real essence of justice and reform which were to regulate the deep-reaching interests of four hundred millions of men—one must be understood as talking about the leaders more particularly. And this is the most real thing about this people's Revolution—the making of order and right government. General Li Yuan Hung seemed to be a great national carpenter, taking now the rough trees, shaping them into purpose and real use. This was my first impression of the man, for by his extreme calmness, his practical insight into things—it was almost impossible to conceive a mere military man capable of such patience in the midst of extreme mental and physical strain—he was showing the world that he was a leader born. General Li was a man of perhaps forty-eight, at first sight giving the impression that he had developed as an altogether brave and quiet man. As I conversed with him I could not help noticing again and again the decisive, practical eye of this leader of the people, how he drove immediately towards the practical, and had a genuine insight into what was fact and right and truth. He had an eye to see and a heart to dare. His nature was strong rather than intense, with his utterances full of sincerity and of substance.

THE PROVINCIAL ASSEMBLY HALL, WUCHANG.
Where General Li had his headquarters until after the fall of Hanyang.

I went direct to the Assembly Hall, where the guard received me and where my foreign visiting-card was taken first to the Foreign Office, while I was marched to a waiting-room. Around the building there was a flutter of official life, for from that building the whole channel of China's history was being changed. Here there were no tremulous, hesitating, half-hearted men; all was life. Each man, from the usual underlings who hung about the doorways to the lowest soldier on guard, from the lowest clerk on the General staff to the General himself—all men went about their business with a fixity of purpose that was new to China. There was no disorganisation. All was quiet and smoothly running. The new Republican flag from many towers waved triumphantly in the morning wind. On the drill-ground outside one could hear the blowing of bugles and the clatter of arms as the regiments were being drilled. Away down in the town, on one, two, a dozen, twenty pieces of open ground recruits were being licked into shape. Over on the hills could be heard the blast of cannon and field-pieces from all directions. The slight whistle of a shell dropping through the air told one that bombarding from both sides was going on apace. But in the General's hall no evidence other than the running hither and thither of dispatch-runners could be seen that war was waging all around one. No one could listen to General Li Yuan Hung without developing a great trust in the man. Sometimes his face lit up with radiance bred only of devout determination, and he had all along succeeded in infusing that spirit into all the people of the city in which he had been so long an ordinary military officer. My reader should not, however, understand me to mean, in my description of the scene where the Revolution broke out, that a China freed from all corruption and all the usual Chinese incongruities and official twistings had suddenly come into being. Any one who has followed my writings on China generally would, were this the case, accuse me of the greatest inconsistency. But during those early days of the Revolution we certainly saw a Chinese official life we had never seen before. Li's court was at that time the cleanest and the most hard-working and practical that had been seen at any time in China's history. That it was not perfect all those who looked on were quite aware, but it was vastly ahead of the general run of Chinese civic life.

Soon there came to the waiting-room a smart young officer, wearing foreign spectacles, in a uniform that had a peculiar mingling of foreign military and civic dress. He saluted, then bade me follow him. His business was to show me to the Foreign Office. Here I decided to make an instant objection, being content with nothing less than an interview with Li Yuan Hung. So that when, having arrived inside a large room at the end of the veranda of the second story of the rectangular building, a rather stout Chinese gentleman in military undress accosted me, I explained that I had already made arrangements for an interview with General Li, that I would be obliged if the proper wheels of office could be set in motion to allow me to see him, and that as soon as possible. Just at this point the Chinese in military undress smiled, and quietly said, "Yes, I am General Li."

Addressing me in English, the General, with gentle Chinese suavity, told me that his time was at my disposal; that with only an imperfect hold upon my honourable language he would probably find some difficulty in telling me accurately what was in his mind, but that whatever question I put to him he would do his best to answer. Li Yuan Hung was a handsome Chinese gentleman—about five feet three or four, queueless, with close-cropped, bristly black hair, eyes somewhat close set, which at times shone with extraordinary fire, and a chin that immediately gave evidence of an infinite determination; were it not for his military bearing, he might readily have been taken for a prosperous Chinese merchant. He was keen, a leader of men who did not hesitate a moment. So utterly unlike the ordinary Chinese official, who leaves the vital points of an interview until he rises to take his leave, General Li, with eyes beaming, and slightly raising his hand in his enthusiasm, exclaimed: "Yes, now we have thirteen out of the eighteen provinces, and our Republican party is formidable.[[1]] We have gathered under our new flag many more provinces in a much shorter time than we had hoped for, an evidence that China was waiting for the step to be taken to overthrow the Manchus."

"Why, General Li, did the Revolution break out? Can you tell me briefly the specific reason you assign for the outbreak to have taken place so suddenly?"

He smiled slightly as he looked me straightforwardly in the eyes. "Well, throughout our Empire there had been for years the feeling that the Manchus would never give us Chinese any justice. They were pressing us down, and although the Revolution took place sooner than anticipated, all Chinese knew that it was coming sooner or later. I personally had formulated no great scheme to take the lead. As a matter of fact, although I knew all that was going on in the Hupeh Model Army, I had no intention of taking the lead, nor of occupying the position in which you find me to-day. The time planned for the Revolution would probably have been later. China was waiting for the man to rise up who would strike. None of the leaders of the Revolution—of our new Republic—were anxious that there should be great slaughter—the only wish was that the Manchu rule should be abolished for ever. And since I have been the leader of the Republic I have done my best that as little loss of life as possible might be incurred."

"Are you quite sure that the Revolution will be permanently successful, that all China will become loyal to the Republican flag?"