The propaganda of the rebels now bore fruit in rapid succession. On October 22nd the rebels, under the leadership of Tan Yen Kai, president of the Hunan Assembly, took Changsha, the capital of Hunan province. Yale College has a branch in this long forbidden city. Hunan has always been notable for honest, sturdy, independent men. It is the proudest province and the sternest in China. “What way Hunan goes, that way goes China.” It was the last province to permit missionary activity. Nanchang, the capital of Kiangsi province, the land of pottery, was taken on the same day, completing the occupation of the four adjoining central Yangtze provinces, which was all that Sun (Sunyacius) first planned to do, as a beginning and a basis on which to solicit foreign loans. It was rebellion indeed, and not a riot. The Tartars, Manchus and loyalists fled. New provincial governments were set up, each with a popular assembly. Peking was desperate, for China was almost split in half by the political earthquake. Peking felt sure that she held the north, however, with a well-equipped army of about twenty divisions. The reformers, however, had breathed into the ear of the troops, and pay was overdue in the impoverished condition of the central government.
On October 24th, ancient Singan, the capital of the north-western province of Shensi, the original capital of China, where the empress dowager, Tse Hsi, fled in 1900, went over to the rebels, despite the threats of the bloody Mongol governor, General Sheng Yun. This really meant a fifth seceding province, as far as the populace was concerned. On the same day, Kowkiang on the Yangtze went over. Then Kweilin, the capital of Kwangsi province, went over on October 25th. This was the first of the southern provinces to join the movement openly. On October 25th noble Fuchau, the famous seaport capital of old Fukien province, went over, and we have already quoted a wonderful message to the white man from their “Sia Hwei” (reform association). On October 26th, Ngan-king, capital of Nganhwei province, declared for the rebels, and on the same day General Li was suggested as provisional president of the forming republic of Han, with six of China’s twenty-one provinces already seceding. Reform was as hot as a prairie fire, and almost as hard to manage.
On October 29th a remarkable thing occurred among the divisions being massed for an attack on the rebels’ capital at Wuchang. The Twentieth Division was at Lanchow camp, east of Peking, under General Chang Shao Teng. They formed the famous Army League, and made reform demands on the packed National Assembly at Peking, just as Cæsar’s immortal Thirteenth Legion, before the rebellion, sent demands to the Roman Senate, whose orders they were supposed to take. In consternation, the packed National Assembly granted the Nineteen Constitutional Articles, and the Manchu regent, Prince Chun, an able and traveled man (he went to Germany in 1901) daily issued edicts and yellow Peking Gazettes, full of tearful promises, in which, however, the central and southern rebellious provinces had no confidence. They said: “Edicts are like the wings of day and night; it all depends on which side the sun is.” This action of the Twentieth Division halted the government’s war measures, and plans were laid to get loyal divisions near the Lanchow camp, and get rid of General Chang the First. This general was not strong enough to attack Peking on his own account, for there were imperial divisions between him and Generals Li and Hwang of the revolutionists. But he was strong enough to be stubborn, and not move forward. Peking was largely in panic. The railroad station was piled high with household goods, and excursion trains for the flight of the Manchus were running to Tientsin as fast as they could be switched. The streets of Peking were crowded with mule carts, bearing bullion sycee and coins to be stored in the vaults of foreign banks in the legation quarter. No one half guessed before the wealth which the pensioned and privileged Manchus had in cache. Proud princes of the blood were even willing to stand up all the way to Tientsin in open coal cars. Foreigners, legations, railways and banks were popular as never before in the north, as a very present refuge in time of trouble! Marvelous treasures of vases, tapestries, and jade were entrusted to foreigners for safe-keeping, and the treasures of the Mukden and Peking palaces were sacrificed, foreign agents taking advantage of the opportunity. Where could a Manchu take them: to Jehol, to Kalgan where the Russ waited, to Mukden where the Japanese waited? That was only like running from the door to be caught on the roof. Before long, treasures next in wonder to those looted at Peking in 1900 will find their way into the palaces, mansions and museums of the Occident, and artistic China will be robbed bare as a bone; for Peking has long been robbing China of art. The hotels and khans of Peking were crowded to the roofs, and the refugees overflowed into the cellars and stables and moats. Merchantmen were chartered, and held with steam up at Tientsin, ready to afford a refuge for panic-stricken Manchu princes, or disgraced Chinese officials like Sheng. Missionaries in the outskirts trusted the promises of the “Sia Hwei”, and stayed at their posts. Alarmed consuls arrested them in order to bring them into the capital, and the Chinese forgot the dignity due to their arms and laughed at the humorously incongruous situation!
On November 3rd, the Imperial Third Division under General Wong Chou Yuen, with the assistance of Admiral Sah’s fleet, attacked the rebels in native Hankau City. The vast flat city is not adapted for defense, and the loyalists were infinitely better equipped. General Li was short of ammunition. His troops, however, put up a brave fight, time and again charging hopelessly with cold steel against machine guns, and eliciting the unqualified admiration of the foreigners. On that day the Imperial Third Division made a bloody name for itself in the respect of massacre of non-combatants and arson. A prosperous city of nearly a million was reduced to the appearance of nearly a wrecked village. Both rebels and loyalists saved the foreign quarter along the Yangtze Bund, with its palatial consulates and business houses, and the American Episcopal St. Paul’s cathedral and St. Peter’s church, which were turned into hospitals by Doctors Glenton and MacWillie, and nurse Miss Clark of the Red Cross. Across the river at Wuchang, the buildings of the American Episcopal Boone University were turned into a hospital by Doctors Merrins, Paterson and others of the brave. Heroic missionaries held up their hands against the Third Division, and pleaded the rules of the Red Cross, but the Manchus, especially Prince Tsai Tao and others of the Tsai princes, desired by a massacre to induce the rebels to massacre the first time they had a victory, and thus bring on foreign intervention to save the dynasty. A dynasty that can not stand without foreign intervention will never stand, for true strength is in the hearts of the people alone. It was the old Boxer trick of the dowager empress, Tse Hsi, in 1900.
The rebels, however, meant to keep their heads, even under such terrific provocation as that bloody Race Track field of Hankau, over which the machine guns of the Imperial Third Division swept, and those bloody streets, maloos and walls where non-combatants were butchered if they wore a piece of white, or had their queues severed, both of which were hated rebel signs. To and fro the tide of war surged. On November 3rd, a great change occurred, for on that day the rebels’ great misfortune in having no fleet, was to a large degree nullified. Shanghai arsenal, which supplied Admiral Sah’s fleet, and Shanghai’s native walled city, went over to the revolutionists. This was the second great step forward. The rebels secured the well-known Wu Ting Fang as foreign minister of the republic of Han, and their organization spread and strengthened in everything except money and a modern equipped force.
On the same day, the far southwestern capital and province, Yunnan, with its splendid army and police, declared for the red, white and blue sun flag of the republic. Two days after, on November 5th, the famous bore-city, Hangchow, the center of culture, and capital of the coast province of Chekiang, was captured by assault, the Manchu general putting up a strong defense in the Tartar walled section of the city. Ningpo, in the same province, and Suchow, another ancient capital of culture in Kiangsu province, went over on the same day.
On November 6th, Admiral Sah’s sailors handed part of the imperial fleet over to the rebels at Shanghai, and the rebels were now able to reform their center line. This also gave the republicans their first nucleus of a navy. Admiral Sah Chen Ping received his baptism of fire in the battle of the Yalu, under the brave Admiral Ting and Commander Teng. He commanded in suppressing riots at Changsha in 1910, when Yale College branch was barely saved, and he is well known as the host of Admiral Emery’s American fleet at Amoy, when the white squadron was girdling the world under the surprised eyes of Japan, whose mixed-school and emigration “bluffs” were called by President Roosevelt in this significant but quiet way. It was most important to win Kiangsu province, and Chinkiang City was therefore talked over on November 6th. The same day, in the far north, the coaling city and naval base of Chifu in Shangtung province, declared for reform.
Up to this time the cultured old Ming capital of Nanking, the most beloved city in China, had held out under a concentrated force of 12,000 imperialists, who were unusually well equipped. After Wuchang, Hanyang and Shanghai, it was next in importance to capture Nanking on the right wing of the rebels. The imperialists knew that to hold Nanking was worth an army of 200,000 men, and General Chang Hsun (we will call him Chang the Second) was in equipment and temper a man to their minds. His second in command was General Chao, and it was rumored that bloody General Chang Piao was within the walls. The civil viceroy of Nanking was the well known Chang Jen Chung, who instituted the first Chinese industrial exhibition at Nanking in 1910. On the northeast of the walled city are the peaks of Purple Mountain, 1,400 feet high, dominating with its huge Armstrong and Krupp guns the north gate, Ta Ping Men, and the east gate, Chao Yang Men, and the great capital, around which the mighty Yangtze flows, yellow flooded to the brim. This hill, and the Tartar section of the city, Chang the Second fortified, so that it would take a hundred to one to drive him out. On November 8th, the dauntless rebels, led by General Ling, under the protection of fire from the Canton artillery, took the armory, arsenal and powder mills outside the south wall, rushed the outworks, and held part of the southern city with insufficient force. One of the cannon balls went crashing through the “North Pole” pagoda in the Tartar City. On November 9th, the imperialists at the strong south fort (Nan Men) hoisted a white flag of apparent surrender, and as the republicans came up, “near enough to see the white of their eyes,” they opened a treacherous fire upon them. The Manchu troops, under General Tieh Liang, looted their own fine military school in the city. There let us leave the rebel lines and pickets for a few days, while General Li and General Hwang on the far left wing were being appealed to for men, and above all, for siege and machine guns and ammunition.
On November 9th, Fuchau had to be stormed again, for the imperialists had been reinforced. On that same day, Canton, always stanch for a modern China, and mother of nearly all the reformers, went over to the rebels under President of Assembly Wu Hon Man, General Chan Kwang Ming, and Wong Ching Wai, and drove the imperial viceroy to Hongkong near by, where the British government pleaded with the great Chinese body to spare their unwelcome hostage, who had fled in Chinese custom “to a city of refuge”. All over China, as in the Palestine of the Bible, are towers of refuge for this very purpose. The American cruiser New Orleans, Captain Miller, had steamed up to Nanking and taken on board hundreds of foreigners, including seventy-five Americans, and records. On November 10th, bloody Chang the Second gave orders, in the old “Boxer” trick plan, for the awful massacre of Nanking. The aim was first to incite the imperial soldiery with the sight of blood, as tigers baited. On the lovely bright afternoon, the prison was opened and 200 prisoners were sent into the yamen courtyard, “to their freedom,” as they thought. There they were made to kneel in a row, while their necks were stretched out by the queue. An executioner, with a mercury weighted Taifo shortsword, hurried along the long line, using only one practised blow to sever each head. The heads were elevated on bamboo poles. The Manchu troops then tasted the blood in the belief that human blood would make them brave and invulnerable. They even dipped their coarse biscuits in the gory pools. They were then ready for anything that was merciless.
In force, Chang’s trained troops, with machine guns, swept down from Purple Mountain, Tiger fort, Lion fort and the Tartar section of the city, on the small force of republicans, and the innocent population of Nanking the Refined. Shame on the Ninth Division of Shangtung territorial troops and the old-style turbaned “braves”. Every man who had no queue; every woman who had the rebel sign of white in her apparel or hair; every man, woman or child who was a Nankingese was slaughtered without opposition, and the odious Ninth Division waded back to Tiger, Lion and Purple Hills through the bloody shambles. This was not war; not even hell; this was an insane massacre of the innocents. The few republican troops under the indomitable General Ling fought until their ammunition was spent, and then with cold steel set, they awaited the rain of bullets from machine guns across the lead swept spaces of the immense, half-built-up city. It availed nothing. Peking breathed with hope. Chang the Second was a general after the “Boxer” Manchu heart. Manchu princes—yea, even those who had visited America and England, like the dashing Prince Tsai Tao and Prince Tsai Chun, and who should have known better—had been urging massacres, and Chang the Second had apparently understood them. General Chang the Second was heartily backed up by the merciless Tartar general, Tieh Liang.