In the midst of this I had a personal chat with Chen Lu, the Vice-Minister for Foreign Affairs, at an evening reception at the British Legation. I told him of my surprise that the Tuchuns, instead of attending to the urgent business in their provinces, should be gathered here, interfering with the Central Government. I let it be distinctly understood that any movement to overthrow parliament in order to carry out the war policy could not be expected to receive the sympathy of the United States. The vice-minister was in close touch with the Tuchuns. I expected that he would repeat my remarks to them. He did.

As I was leaving the Chancery a few evenings later Mr. Roy Anderson appeared with the news that something was happening and drove me over to the railway station. We went through the Chenmen gate. Along the main street were many carts rapidly driven, loaded with military stores and household goods. Automobiles were rushing by them to the station. On the platform was a turmoil of troops busily transferring the various military possessions to cars. In a parlour car our friends the Tuchuns were assembling. I left Mr. Anderson there to observe and to get information.

It appeared that the Tuchuns had all of a sudden decided to leave Peking for their various capitals, taking their bodyguards with them. Two or three were to remain in Tientsin a little longer to watch developments. Their precipitous exit seemed to indicate that President Li had at last got the upper hand.

As a farewell courtesy to Doctor Willoughby, the American legal adviser, the President had invited him and me to luncheon on the following day. President Li was cheerful. The discomfiture of the Tuchuns filled him with glee. "All danger is passed," he announced; "I will dismiss General Tuan, appoint a new cabinet, and have parliament decide the war question without compulsion."

In order to inform myself as to what was behind the President's confidence, I asked him what he had to put in the place of his cabinet and General Tuan, and whether he believed that the Government could be carried on without the concurrence of that important party.

"Oh, yes," the President assured me, "it is all arranged."

Pressing him a little further, and asking upon whom, in particular, he was relying, to my unspeakable surprise, he said: "General Chang Hsun will assist me."

Now General Chang Hsun was an old-time bandit and militarist. His ideas were devoid of any understanding of representative institutions. It passed my power of imagination to see how reliance could be placed in this general for the vindication of parliament. As I looked dubious, the President repeated: "Yes, you may believe me. I can rely on General Chang Hsun."

It was not what Chang Hsun stood for that the President relied on, but on his enmity to General Tuan. Li Yuan-hung, though quite modern in his conception of government, in this instance followed a strong Chinese instinct which aims to prevail by setting off strong individuals against each other.

After I had heard that the dismissal of General Tuan had been announced, General Chin Yun-peng called on me. He was agitated and much worried. "Do you not think that General Tuan should leave Peking?" he asked. "His enemies will undoubtedly wish to take his life."