THE IMPREGNABLE HANYANG HILL,
Shown in the background. It is the main strategic point
on the Yangtse. At one time it bristled with revolutionary
field-guns.

For the first time since the beginning of the revolutionary movement in China the Imperialist cause had scored an undeniable success, always excepting the savage burning of Hankow. The success of the Imperialists was rightly ascribed to their superior equipment and discipline, and that their loyalty to Peking, as well as their efficiency, had stood the supreme test of battle was in itself an event of first-rate importance. The strong feeling which has grown up almost all over China against the Manchu had still to be reckoned with. At this time it was an amusing diversion to read the opinions being printed in the home Press. After referring to the feeling among the proletariat against the Manchus, a writer in an editorial in the London Times said that "again a middle term may conceivably be found in the suggestion that, as an alternative to the withdrawal of the Court from Peking, the present Regent should resign his office into the hands of a Chinese Regent or Council of Regency. The singular ceremony which took place a few days ago in Peking, when the Regent, in the name of the infant Emperor, made atonement before the 'heavenly spirits' of the Imperial ancestors for the responsibility which he has to bear in the present troubles, may be taken as something more than a mere formal acknowledgment of the gravity of the crisis. In the solemn oath of allegiance to the new constitutional regime taken by the Regent, there is, in so many words, an admission that the Dynasty is in danger; and so grave an admission is, we imagine, at least as unprecedented as the circumstances which have provoked it. If it truly represents the chastened spirit of the rulers of China, it can hardly fail to make a deep impression upon the masses of the Chinese people, whose traditional reverence for the Throne as a sacred institution dates back to time immemorial, and has survived numberless revolutions in the past which, however disastrous to the occupants for the time being of the Throne, never permanently affected its inherent prestige."

But in a period of such national travail as China was passing through, it would have been unwise just then to build too much upon the claims of mere common sense, even where people in many ways so eminently sensible as the Chinese were concerned. Immense forces, of which we could not yet pretend to estimate the energy, had been set in motion for better or for worse; and, when once elemental forces have been set in motion, they cannot easily be arrested. In pleading for the maintenance of the Dynasty, Yuan Shih K'ai himself did not conceal his belief that its overthrow would be followed by a series of internal convulsions extending possibly over several decades. Time may prove Yuan to be right. But though we may hope that the world may be spared such a calamity, it was now impossible to look forward to the future without apprehension. The old order of things had departed, never to return. But it would have been then, and still is, idle to expect that a new and stable order of things can be immediately evolved by any magic wand out of the existing chaos. However rotten the old fabric may have been, it cannot be destroyed and a new fabric built up in a day. Japan went through some fifteen years of internal strife and turmoil before modern Japan emerged from the ruins of the old feudal Japan. And Japan not only had the good fortune to possess an influential class inspired by great patriotic ideals, ready to lead her in the path of national regeneration, but she had also, in the restoration of the Imperial authority, an ancient national tradition round which modern ideas of reform could crystallise. Whether China possessed a class equally competent to steer her through the breakers had yet to be seen—and has still; but it was only too clear, unfortunately, that the present Dynasty could never be a rallying point for patriotic enthusiasm such as the reigning Dynasty proved to be in Japan. The future alone could show whether any effective substitute could be found for it.

THE THREE-EYED BRIDGE,
Seven miles north of Hanyang, where some of the hottest fighting
took place. The Revolutionists held the bridge and the adjoining
hills till the fall of Hanyang made the position untenable.

The fall of Hanyang gave to the Imperial cause an impetus it was hard to estimate. But it had cost the Chinese as a people a lot during its fall.

* * * * *

During the first two days of December the author formed one of a party of Europeans whose duty it was to superintend the operations of a search party of the Red Cross Society around the neighbourhood of Chiakow and the four hills across the Han River, all of which formed the scene of one of the great battles. This was the belt of country which for days was held by the Revolutionary Army, encamped and fortified in the many hillocks and surrounding lake country, which by its very impassable nature was practically a fort. It was here that the Revolutionists must have fought with more dauntless courage than the Russo-Japanese War ever gave record of to the world. It was here that for days, at closest range, they were driven back by the Imperial shrapnel and rifle fire from the other side of the Han; here that they repeated daring onslaughts upon the enemy when it seemed that the end was near with the speedy cutting-up of the Imperialists; here that the Peking men again and again endeavoured to force an entry and were cut down hopelessly and retreated with but a scanty percentage of their own attacking regiments; here that the hills bristled with batteries that whistled shells simultaneously by the dozen into the enemy as they lay encamped in the open country behind the waterworks. Altogether those four hills, still looking up reverently to their Maker, seemed silently to tell forth stories of heroism that would make the memories of men who were cruelly tortured immortal among their own people. But it was here also that the Hupeh men and the Hunan men had their squabble; and in this was their downfall, as it could have been in nothing else, for the place was impregnable.

And as during those two days I rode my pony in and out those hillocks, through those swamps, around those lakes, and as I stood by the graves of men who gave their own cause away, I could not help wondering what might have been had the Revolutionary Army remained one in spirit. What would have happened is this: the Imperialists would never have crossed the Han. But by December 1st they were in full possession. Every man and thing seemed numbered, all was wonderfully organised; from far away up the Han on both sides down past the point where the Han bifurcates into the Yangtsze and down past Kinshan forts the Imperialists were in possession.