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

CHAPTER XII

Chapter 1311,741 wordsPublic domain

THE REPUBLIC SEEKS RECOGNITION

Although Hanyang had fallen, the Revolution was by no means lost; this the intelligent reader will easily be able to see. During the past six weeks the Reformers had been so hard at work that a Republic had practically been recognised by the Powers, America being especially friendly. The following address by Dr. Wu Ting Fang had been sent out to the world, and had caused a profound impression:--

"THE REPUBLIC OF CHINA ASKS RECOGNITION.

"The Chinese nation born anew in the travail of revolution extends friendly greetings and felicitations to the world.

"As the Republic of China it now asks that recognition by the civilised Powers which will enable it, with the assistance of their kindly offices, to erect upon the foundations of honest government and friendly trade and intercourse with all peoples, a peaceful and happy future.

"The Chinese people are not untried in self-government. For countless ages they ruled themselves; they developed observance of the law to a degree not known among other races; they developed arts and industries and agriculture and knew a peace and contentment surpassingly sweet.

"Down upon them swept the savage hordes of an alien and warlike race. The Chinese people were conquered and enslaved. For 270 years this bondage existed. Then the Chinese people arose and struck a blow for freedom. Out of the chaos and dust of a falling throne emerges a free and enlightened people--a great natural democracy of 400,000,000 human beings.

"They have chosen to set up a Republic and their choice we believe is a wise one. There is no class of nobility among the Chinese and they have no recognised royal family to set up in place of the departing {152} Manchu Royal House. This is a great democracy. The officials spring from the people and to the people they return. There are no princes, lords, dukes among the Chinese. With the Manchu throne removed there is left a made-to-order Republic. Already we have provincial assemblies and our National Assembly. Already we have a Republic with a full set of competent officials.

"Within a very few days our constitutional convention will meet: arrangements for it were made long ago. At this convention there will be fully authorised delegates from every province in China. A constitution of the most enlightened character will be adopted and new officers of the provisional government elected. Following this will come, under the provisions of the constitution, the provincial and national elections.

"It is imperative that our government be recognised at this time in order that business may not be subjected to prolonged stagnation. There is peace everywhere save at Hankow, but business cannot proceed until the new Republic shall be welcomed among the nations of the world.

"We ask recognition in order that we may enter upon our new life and our new relationships with the great Powers.

"We ask recognition of the republic because the republic is a fact.

"Fourteen of the eighteen provinces have declared their independence of the Manchu Government and promulgated their allegiance to the Republic. The remaining provinces will, it is expected, soon take the same course.

"The Manchu dynasty finds its power fallen away and its glitter of yesterday become but a puppet show. Before going it has stripped itself of authority by consenting to the terms of the proposed constitution which already have been made public.

"The most glorious page in Chinese history has been written with a bloodless pen.

"(Signed) WU TING FANG "(Director of Foreign Affairs.)"

And towards this end the Revolutionists were working. During the war each day had brought news of some province or part of a province having gone over. Li Yuan Hung and his associates were never morally stronger than when Hanyang fell. The military defeat mattered but little, for the Chinese are a democratic people, and each day brought more moral support.

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The dynasty was still left standing, but in all other respects the desires of the Revolutionists had been sanctioned by the Sovereign. The Throne itself had been stripped of its power and prestige, and had been forced to act at the dictation of the National Assembly. The surrender on paper appeared to be complete, though it must be steadily kept in mind that in China, less perhaps than in any other land, are promises and concessions always held to be irrevocable. Yuan Shih K'ai had been invested with an authority which was practically supreme. He was at once Prime Minister and Commander-in-Chief of the Army and Navy employed against the Yangtsze Revolutionists. In the best interests of the Chinese people it was to be hoped that they had been inspired by an unfeigned desire on both sides to reach an accommodation without further bloodshed; but in no country are delusive negotiations more habitually employed than in China as a means of gaining time, and it was at least conceivable that in the present crisis each leader would believe that time was on his side. In a few days it was expected that Yuan Shi K'ai's party would show what degree of influence it could exert over the insurgent provinces. The number of these provinces continued to grow, and, in at least some instances, the movement in them seemed to be deeply tinged with a particularism which tended strongly towards separatism.

The Empire was, indeed, as a writer in the _Times_ put it, "bubbling like a cauldron," but a good many of the bubbles may subside, under judicious handling, with surprising rapidity. What seemed certain, however, so far as anything is certain in China, was that the old Monarchy had fallen never to rise again, and that it would drag down much in China in its fall. It had long survived its day. Its servants, like the servants of Solomon in the Koran, had propped up a corpse and summoned {154} kings and princes to do it homage. They bowed down before it, says the story, so long as it stood upright. But at last the worms gnawed away the staff on which it rested, it lay prone in the dust, and the world fell into confusion.

With the fall of Hanyang, millions of people, Chinese and foreigners, were speaking or thinking chiefly of one question those days, What would be the fate of the rebellion? Bound up in this question were many others, its corollaries. Would the rebellion be now speedily crushed, or succumb only after a prolonged civil war which would sap the already decimated resources of the country, partly suspend and disorganise business, and cause enormous destruction to life and property? Or would the Revolutionary forces quickly defeat the Government armies, acquire following and resources by success, and replace the existing Government at Peking with another and, if so, what kind of Government?

One may understand, and to some extent sympathise with, the motives and ideals of the Revolutionists without approving their course. It was generally agreed that the Government of China wanted reforming, but there was wide divergence of opinion as to method. Two general hypotheses for reform seemed practicable: to impose constitutionalism upon the present monarchical system and Dynasty, or to wipe them out and begin anew.

It would profit nothing to change the Government of China unless the change meant improvement. If the present Dynasty would be overthrown, what would replace it? Another Dynasty, or a Republic? A new Dynasty would, under existing circumstances, take for its head some popular leader since none of the Chinese Royal House was fitted for the place. This might improve conditions in China, and it might not. A successful republic, with conditions as they were, was practically impossible; and it is questionable if {155} a republican form of government is suited to the Chinese nation and people. None of the elements of genuine republicanism existed in the Empire. The course of events, as caused by the Revolutionary party, was being closely observed. They had set out to fight for their freedom, and now, with the fall of Hanyang, the military cause seemed lost. All nations were interested in the fate of China. Already one Power, the United States, was devising ways and means to safeguard against abrupt and inharmonious international action, in case any action became necessary. The _Times_ expressed the view that the Revolution would fail. Present indications were that the opinion was well founded. But even if it failed, that revolt was to leave a deep psychological impression on the reigning Dynasty, the Chinese, and the world.

But what was happening elsewhere?

On December 2nd the following message was flashed over the wires: "Nanking city has fallen. Foreigners safe. Revolutionists entering city." For many days a most determined battle had been going on at Nanking. The Revolutionists, fired with a zeal intensified because of the fall of Hanyang, were endeavouring to get into the city--a feat which seemed for long impossible. The capture of the city of Nanking was the counterpoise to Hanyang's loss. Every one knows much more about Nanking. This city was the old capital of China, and of more political importance probably than Hanyang--it would be made the capital--and so the Revolutionists thought they still had the better part of the bargain. There is no space to dwell upon all the terrible blood-shed, of the Manchu decapitations, and much of the savagery which rendered the days leading up to the capture of Nanking hideous to one's memory. But it has so vital a bearing on the situation that some reference to the city's capture is necessary.

"The long-expected happened this morning at 7 a.m.," said an American writer on December 2nd, {156} "and the city is gone over. The first intimation that the end was near was Friday morning early. The previous night there had been very heavy fighting at Hsiakuan, Taiping Gate, and the South Gate, especially about the fort just outside the gate (Yu Hua Tai). General Chang, commanding the Imperialists, asked the co-operation of the foreigners in the city, the terms upon which he agreed to the surrender of the city being as follows:--

"1. No killing of the people in the city, or of the Manchus.

"2. No killing of his soldiers or officers.

"3. Safe conduct for himself out of the city on his way north via Pukow, together with his own men.

"These were rather staggering for our faith to propose to a victorious army which had its enemy demoralised, and most of the officers were only too willing to admit it. Furthermore, neither Chang Hsuin nor any one else knew who was in command of the rebels, nor where he might be found. However, arrangements were immediately made for our going out of the South Gate, and within half an hour we were off, Mr. Tseo, U.S. Vice-Consul Gilbert, and myself, together with four of the bodyguard of General Chang. We went through the South Gate just at twelve noon. The comparatively few loyal troops stationed on the South Gate, Tung Tsi Gate, Hung Wu Gate, and the Chao Yang Gate in turn sent word on ahead down the wall not to fire on us as we skirted the wall trying to find the rebel forces. We carried the American flag and also a white flag. A few of the thatched-roof houses along the way were burned, but few other signs of war could be seen. As we neared the Chao Yang Gate the shells being fired from the lower peak of Purple Mt., apparently into the Imperial or Manchu city, whistled through the air, but far enough away to be only interesting. It was not till we got within {157} sight of the Ming tombs that we could see the rebels, most of whom were on the top of the mountain, but we made for a small group on the lower foothills, and about two o'clock came up to them.

"A quiet, self-contained person seemed to be in charge of the group, and upon asking him where the general in command was, he replied that he was that person, so we were extremely fortunate, and stated our errand at once. The first two propositions were agreed to very readily, but of course the third was impossible. We then got his terms of surrender, which were:--

1. Chang Hsuin must surrender, but could live in any place in the city he chose, where his life would be fully protected until the final settlement of China's present difficulties.

2. All of his troops must lay down their arms in a certain drill-ground in the city, and come out of Taiping Gate empty-handed, and be permitted to depart one by one.

3. Government funds in the hands of the military authorities, amounting to about $800,000, must be turned over to the new Power.

4. The above terms must be complied with by eight o'clock on December 2nd--that is, the next morning.

"After a pleasant farewell we returned to General Chang's yamen, arriving about five p.m. The General positively refused to consider the terms, declaring that he would have to fight till death, and could not be persuaded to alter his mind. We told him that, such being the case, we felt no longer safe under his protection, and would ask for safe conduct out of the city, which was readily granted, and plans were made for those not absolutely needed for the Red Cross work to leave the city early the next morning. However, about ten o'clock, General Chang's secretary again came over, saying that the General with a number of {158} his men had fled the city by the I Feng Gate and were to cross the river at Pukow and try to make their way northward. In about an hour we were able to confirm this rumour as fact, and so Dr. Macklin, who was personally well acquainted with the highest officer, who had not gone out with his General, and whose sentiments he knew, found out that he and his soldiers--about a thousand--were willing to run up the white flag at daylight, so we decided not to leave the city. About five o'clock Dr. Macklin with his officer went to the Taiping Gate, where they were soon joined also by the American Vice-Consul. The firing was quite heavy by this time, it having begun before daylight, but as soon as the white flag together with the American flag was seen the General sent a messenger down to see what it meant, and when he knew it was the peace representative of the day before and that the soldiers were willing to surrender, he was willing that the loyal officer with the Vice-Consul, Dr. Macklin, and Mr. Garrett come outside and arrange the details. This they did at once, and General Ling, the rebel leader, and General Chao, the one highest in command of the loyal troops in the city, stepped aside and made arrangements that were mutually satisfactory, the character of which was not fully divulged. General Chao then made his men stack arms, and they marched out empty-handed, and the laying down of arms of the remaining loyal troops had proceeded satisfactorily all day, judging by all appearances. It was not long before white flags were flying on Lion Hill forts, the Drum Tower, and many other places. The troops began to pour into the city and were detailed off to their respective stations according to previously arranged plans apparently, and the city began to rejoice after its long days of waiting and uncertainty. Occasional shots have been heard throughout the day, but probably nearly all of them are for the moral effect upon those inclined to take advantage of a possible confusion to-night to loot."

{159}

Any one entering Nanking the day after would never have known from the look of things that anything had happened. Most of the Revolutionary soldiers had entered the city. An extra large force of police were patrolling the streets; the people were going about their business as usual and perfect order prevailed. The Revolutionists, unmoved from Wuchang, had gained Nanking and lost Hanyang: the Imperialists had lost Nanking and had gained Hanyang. This was the position when peace was thought of. On the last day of November I was personally asked, as one representing the _China Press_ of Shanghai, to publish the following statement to the world as embodying General Li Yuan Hung's wishes:--

"I desire an armistice in order to communicate with the other republican centres, that I may ascertain their views whether the conflict will be carried on or whether the Republicans will meet in conference with the constitutional monarchists to arrange a compromise.

"I myself have all along desired to put an end to the internecine warfare, the bloodshed and suffering, the destruction of property, and the dangers of foreign intervention.

"To this end I now declare my willingness to make any concession which will insure an end to the slaughter. My plan is to have the Republicans and the Government proclaim an armistice so that the issues can be discussed by proper representatives of both parties.

"If, however, the united Republicans of the nation desire the war to continue, I am willing to remain in the field and continue to the bitter end."

* * * * *

The issues were now, so it seemed, a Monarchical Government or a Republican Government--the Manchus, every one believed, had been eradicated for ever. And at this juncture it will give the reader a better idea of the political situation in Peking if I reproduce an official statement published a few days previous by Yuan Shih K'ai. It reads as follows:--

"China has, through centuries, been in a sense loosely governed. We have had what might be termed a crude or patriarchal form of {160} monarchy, the slackness of the governing body resulting in the people developing little respect for government and very little understanding of the responsibilities of a people toward a government. The present agitation for a Republic has carried to the people as a mass only the idea that popular government means no taxes and no government. I can see in it, under existing conditions, no promise of stability, at least not for several tens of years. Among the progressives of the Empire there are now two schools of thought, one favouring a Republic and the other a constitutional monarchy. I doubt whether the people of China are at the present time ripe for a Republic or whether under present conditions a Republic is adapted to the Chinese people. The situation in China is complicated by a number of different factors perhaps not understood abroad.

"In the first place there still exists among the masses a strong sectional and provincial feeling. While this has undoubtedly died out among those educated on modern lines, still this is only a comparatively small element of the country's vast population. In considering the form of government to give stability it is necessary to consider the vast majority of the people rather than the small minority.

"It is already manifest that the interests of the different sections of the country are very diverse. We find the advocates of Republicanism splitting among themselves. The educational, army, local gentry, and commercial parties have all divergent views. Small groups are being formed and struggling for ascendancy. If that is permitted to develop on a large scale, there will be a split-up and this evidently will bring foreign interference and partition. Although the Manchu government has done nothing that has drawn to it the hearts of the people, yet with the power of the people restricted as provided by the nineteen articles forming the constitutional bill of rights, the real governing power would be in the hands of the people.

"The adoption of the limited monarchy would bring conditions back to the normal, would bring stability, much more rapidly than that end could be attained through any experimental form of government unsuited to the genius of the people or to conditions as they are found in China.

"My love for China and the Chinese people is certainly as great as that of any of those who are advocating the radical step of establishing a Republic. My sincerity in the cause of reform has been demonstrated. I have undertaken what is really a stupendous task, not through any desire for power, nor love of fame but solely in the hope of being able to restore order out of chaos and to do some good for China.

"I am still hopeful of reaching some compromise that will satisfy all elements of the people sincerely desirous of preserving the integrity of the country and restoring peace and stable government throughout the {161} land. I believe the Chinese to be a reasonable people and that there is no desire on the part of any considerable element to see the country disrupted and destroyed. What I am working for is a compromise with the advanced or Republican party with a view to ending the suffering and removing the troubles and complications with which this country is beset and threatened.

"With regard to the character and magnitude of the 'independence' movements. I do not regard the situation to have been carried beyond the possibility of compromise. Governmental authority has, it is true, been overthrown in the capitals of most of the provinces and a few men in each have framed something similar to a declaration of independence, but this does not seem to me to imply absolute secession of these provinces. In most of these capitals, the control is in the hands of conservative citizens who are holding the situation on something like a neutral basis. Their object is primarily to keep down anarchy. They desire to preserve order, to protect life and the property of the people. While the more radical elements are insisting upon a republic the better elements seem to me to be neutral. I have favoured a project to gather together from the different provinces the men who enjoy the confidence of the people in order that there may be a thorough discussion of the great question of what the form of China's government shall be.

"I believe that question should be discussed sanely and soberly. It is too big a question to be discussed in heat and passion.

"My only reason in favouring the retention of the present Emperor is that I believe in a constitutional monarchy. If we are to have that form of government, there is nobody else whom the people would agree upon for his place.

"Of course the reforms wiping out the distinctions between Chinese and Manchus must be made effective in any event.

"The great question, the overshadowing question, is the preservation of China. To accomplish this end all patriots should be willing to sacrifice secondary considerations of policy and of course all considerations of self. My sole aim in this crisis is to save China from Dissolution and the many evils that would follow. If we are to save China there must be a stable Government and at once. Every day's delay is dangerous. I hope the same progressive thought of the country will see this, and will co-operate with me to secure the all-important end.

"The task I have undertaken is as thankless as it is stupendous. I am being subjected to misrepresentation, criticism, attack from all sides. This is to be expected. I must stand it.

"But I do not intend to let it swerve me from my endeavour to do what I conceive to be my highest duty, which is to labour solely for the end of preserving China from disruption and from dissolution."

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But about this time it was fortunate that the start of peace came, as a surprise to us all. Before Hanyang fell Yuan Shih K'ai had been endeavouring--so it was reported from Peking--to get peace talk started. He was afraid of what was coming.

December 4th should be the day upon which the historian of the Revolution will fix as the most important moment in the whole of this war. For at 8 a.m. a truce for three days commenced, and high authority on both sides stated that both Imperialists and Revolutionists hoped strongly that the lull of fighting would be productive of definite terms of peace. Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, till eight o'clock in the morning--after then, what? And seeing that in China no thinking person is foolish enough to think himself a prophet, even of the most truly expected, it seems that to give a general idea of the situation at the front at this time would be perhaps the best that one can do. During these days I had several conversations with high officers in both camps, and was perhaps better informed on the possibilities than most folk, but from the first I made up my mind that a great surprise awaited me if the peace talk were successful. I was frequently in the camps of both parties. As for the Revolutionary party, there was hardly any camp left, if buildings made it. For a large fire at the Provincial Assembly Hall had pretty well ruined that magnificent edifice, and General Li Yuan Hung and his bewildered associates shifted their offices to a smaller and more sheltered spot in Wuchang. But it was very little use going to them for information, for they themselves were wondering what the victors intended to do. They themselves had made full arrangements for clearing out, had very little hope that Wuchang would be saved, believed that Yuan's army would now sweep them up, and so had but scant belief in the sincerity of Yuan Shih K'ai in calling for peace.

One morning I called at the office, just below the {163} Tachimen Railway Station, to interview the secretary of Yuan--a Mr. Wong Kai Wen--who had full administrative control here. To be in the presence of Mr. Wong is to be with a man who makes you feel his deep thoroughness. His essential alertness holds you. His deep, penetrating eyes look at the thing and take in the vital parts at a glance. He is acute, not to be deceived; frankness, touched with a little Chinese sleekness, looks you straight in the eyes when he speaks to you, and altogether the man Yuan chose to wait behind and direct affairs at this end magnificently fills the bill. About him there were no signs of the military. He knows practically nothing about the way to lead an army into battle, but not a single thing of official note passed him. He looked just like a respectable member of the teacher community. His long dark-blue wadded gown and his ordinary round hat, Chinese shoes and socks, his small queue, his slender moustache, which he thoughtfully pulled at when he talked to me--all these and many other characteristics told me that he was typically Chinese. There was nothing foreign about him in appearance. The things he used were Chinese exclusively. In short, he was a polished Chinese gentleman. But when he addressed me he spoke magnificent English--knows English etiquette as we know it ourselves. These were the rough impressions I got of the man when I found him in a little back room of a private house near to the Imperial base just after Hanyang had been captured.

About him there were many hangers-on. With the military camp not a hundred feet away there was intense excitement, which every one in front of the foreigner was vainly attempting to subdue. Men came in with messages, and were quietly turned aside. Wong rose several times from his chair as he spoke with me, and hurriedly went to listen to some spies who had a story to tell him. 'Twas all hurry, all was organised capitally and worked smoothly, for there were many {164} men on hand. Along the lines carriages of ammunition were going out towards Hanyang. From Hanyang captured carriages were coming, all tied low down with tarpaulins so that nobody could see. Meantime, there was a rumour in the camp that Yuan had been assassinated, and that the parties were talking peace. And here was Mr. Wong, Yuan's secretary, reading his dispatches and carrying out his wishes.

Most ardent preparations for further fighting counterbalanced the peace suggestions. Was there to be any more fighting? Ah, who knew? It was not wise to talk of such things. All this was exceptionally difficult business that Chinese should fight Chinese. But who could bring forward any way out of it. No; from Mr. Wong Kai Wen there was no news to be got, but he let drop little things that led one immediately to believe that Yuan's party were not in for talking peace. They had taken Hanyang, they would soon, so it appeared, have Wuchang, and that would make the Revolutionary cause lost altogether.

This was the impression which the Imperial camp gave to me. Then I went over to the Revolutionary camp, finding that both factions had many palpable differences. To go into General Li Yuan Hung's offices was to enter a semi-Occidentalised yamen. The staff were dressed in European clothes, they had no queues, their hats were mostly American felts, they talked English more or less, many of them had been trained in American universities. They treated you in an Occidental manner, told you their plans frankly, and one could feel that they were to be believed. They knew and they confessed that the military cause here was gone, but when I questioned them as to the ultimate issue of the Revolution they proudly pointed to certain epochs of history in my own country and asked me whether I thought it possible that the country could ever be again what it had been. The anti-foreignism of the north and the massacring of the foreigners at {165} Sianfu in Shensi they deplored sincerely, and felt that it was in the banditti and the hooliganism in the Empire that they had a problem difficult of satisfactory solution.

I felt the sincerity of those men. Their enthusiasm got into me, I felt that they were a band of young reformers whose only fault lay, not in their ability, not in their determination, not in their belief in how things should be done, but in their little lack of stability and lack of unity. They believed that China must now change, and that the change would not be the kind of change that the Manchu Government would have brought in, but a real reform that would raise the masses of the people and bring China out into the foreground of the world. And as I spoke to those men I felt it, too. But there was one failing, that slight lack of stability. They needed leaders. Not for one moment wishing to minimise the extraordinary powers of calm foresight and sound administrative ability of General Li Yuan Hung, which had kept the whole party together during its most trying times of defeat, the Revolutionary party needed leaders who had been in the business before. They were all apprentices in the art of administrative and national rebuilding, and they needed a few master-men to guide them in their political journeyings. If they failed, however, it was not because they did not wish to do the right thing, not because they did not know how to do it; but because of the lack of downright practical experience; they were not able to give to current events their current bearing upon their one mutual aim.

Here they were, a strong man at the head of them, and all looking confidently towards him, like a lot of schoolboys with a teacher to whom they looked for everything. Immediately after Hanyang fell, the Wuchang party were scared for fear the city would be bombarded and they lose their heads. Within forty-eight hours, however, they had regained their courage. {166} On November 30th, when I went over the river, as my boat pulled into mid-stream, the boatman told me blandly that he should expect at least treble rates, as he ran a great risk in coming at all--the Imperialists were sniping at every boat, he told me, and he felt it was only wise and fair to let me know. Just as he spoke I heard a bullet whizz past me. In a couple of minutes the big gun from Wuchang sent a shell away over my head, which drew fire from a field-piece in the unskilled hands of a very poor gunner on the Hankow side, the shell of which dropped noiselessly into the water a few yards in front of my little boat. Once on the other side, however, there was no further fear from firing. Rumours had been flying round to the effect that Wuchang was being evacuated, and, although on the river-banks people were building their boats and mending their nets as usual, it did not take the mind of a Spencer to take in the remarkable change that had so soon come over the city since the fall of Hanyang. A week previous I had been to Wuchang and was impressed everywhere with the doing and driving of every one in the streets and in the shops, with briskness of trade, and the cocksureness of the people. With their queues discarded they were then doing a roaring trade in small cloth and silk caps, made after a foreign pattern, which they wore proudly in defiance to the little round Manchu hat. These caps were met with at every turn, hung on nails in the wall above the street-vendors' stall; they were fetching as much as seventy cents apiece. To-day they could be had for twenty. Men who had made their purchases now laid aside the foreign article and fell back to the round hat with the little red knob on the summit. In the streets half the shops were closed, the other half doing a little trade and meanwhile preparing to take away most of the valuable stocks. Huge loads were standing outside the doors ready to be taken away as soon as the busy coolie gangs had time to attend to them; old men and {167} women, carrying all their belongings in small baskets, were tiao-ing as hard as they could go; through the gates, now no longer guarded by a cocksure squad of military, but thrown wide open, came the constant hurrying stream of urban residents, who now were removing to the country. In China at such times as this one is held almost awestruck with the manner in which people clear out. Homes which perhaps had been held together for many generations were being evacuated in a couple of hours--the old father and the old mother took the children, the sons shouldered the heavy family furniture, the wives hobbled along behind with the babies, and altogether they silently went out of the city in a mournful procession. They hardly knew where they were going, but in the city trouble was brewing, and they were taking no risks of being shelled or burned out of their little hovels as had been done to thousands of their race over the river at Hankow.

As I went into the city I must have passed five thousand people--mostly in little processions of sixes and sevens, wending their way through the gates out of range of the fire of guns. I could not help but look upon them in pity, for disappointment was writ large upon their faces. They were some of the great percentage of the Chinese proletariat who delight to go with the crowd, like to shout with the majority. A fortnight earlier the Wuchang Republican party was on the top, was commanding all that came before it, and therefore did the thousands of the non-thinking portion of the community of the capital city delight in being loyal supporters. But now the tide for the time seemed to have turned, they were being bandied about from pillar to post daily, calamity after calamity seemed woefully to overtake them, and they almost wished, as they followed each slowly behind the other in common evacuation, that they had hesitated before plumping for the Revolutionaries. Tea-shops were almost deserted, rice-shops did no business, one felt that {168} the military activity was greatly bluff. Wuchang had suddenly become a forlorn city, and the inhabitants disappointed people. Outside the Assembly Hall the revolutionary flags flapped in the wind, and there was little evidence that the conditions of affairs inside had altered very much, but as I walked up the steps, showed my card, and asked to see the General the staff officers looked askance at me, asked each other whether I was of German nationality, and told me that for some considerable time it would be quite impossible to see General Li. As I moved about the offices, however, I confess to some admiration at the way in which, under all their adverse circumstances and the consequent disappointment which the re-taking of Hanyang must have been to them all, the officers were going about their work with a quiet dignity and assurance that they were working on a thing that was not soon to pass away. One of the young fellows, a man of some four-and-twenty, who one could easily see had been educated in the States, told me that they, were all as confident as could be that their present position was as strong as ever it was.

"The taking of Hanyang," he told me, "is decidedly unfortunate, but we are making a new nation, a new country--we are not fighting military battles any more. There is now no further need for the killing of men. We are more concerned with the laying down of a new Government, and are desirous of having peace. Yuan Shih K'ai"--and here he paid a fitting tribute to Yuan's power, although he was not bewilderingly eulogistic of his political squareness--"does not want to fight, so he says. If he is true, why does he not withdraw his army at once and let there be peace? What we shall do now is to retire down towards Shanghai, where we shall probably hold our first delegates' meeting for the establishment of the Provisional Government, and by so doing we shall show to the world that we are by no means anxious to win our cause by killing our {169} own countrymen. If he wishes to fight, all the world will know now that it is not merely because we are the Revolutionary party, but because he will still be the aggressor. Our policy of evacuating this city is because we feel it wise to do so, so that fighting may cease, and it is indirectly an appeal to the world on behalf of humanity--for it takes two to make a fight."

But this was very far-fetched, for the Revolutionists were equally keen to show that they had no intention of throwing up the sponge. Nanking's success subsequently had the effect of firing them with the fighting spirit again, and the fact that the Nanking troops were expected to arrive at Wuchang--although this turned out subsequently to be false--gave a new fillip of enthusiasm to the people. "They are not the new men, the recruits, they are the real trained soldiers," cried the man-in-the-street, "as good as the best that go to make up the Northern Army." The news spread rapidly from mouth to mouth, and the already excited soldiers showed increased anxiety because it was feared in their ranks that the rival leaders would so far be successful in their talk about peace that no further fighting would take place.

But no one could get any definite news of how much nearer we were to peace. Meantime at Hanyang and on the Yangtsze above and below that town strongest fortifications were being made. That Hanyang was the stronghold only a visit was needed to convince one; this, however, was difficult, for only the very privileged were afforded passes to go across the river. Things were buzzing at Hanyang; the Imperialist troops were itching for another battle, the whole place was fitted up in a most complete manner for further warfare, the Tortoise Hill was rendered absolutely impregnable, the camps were connected with both telephone and telegraph, and the Imperial army was going about its business as a body who understood thoroughly the business it was following.

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Whatever they may have thought they could do, however, military experts declared that the Revolutionists had no position at all as long as the Imperial guns at Hanyang were able to pour shrapnel into them. With the railway cut off, the supplies of the Imperial forces would of course be cut off too, and in that way the Revolutionists would perhaps have been able to besiege them at Hanyang; but it would have been infinitely tedious. The cruisers, even if they had had ammunition, would under existing circumstances have been of little use. The four-point-seven guns at Hanyang would, with such decided advantage in being able to bang at them from a point where their own guns could not even been seen, have been able to silence them in a very short time. The damage that the Revolutionary guns would have caused to Hanyang would have been infinitesimal, and altogether the Imperial army would have held the trump card all the way along. On the face of things, it appeared little short of sheer madness for the Revolutionists to think of fighting so long as Hanyang were made the main Imperial base. But the Revolutionists themselves did not think so lightly of their chances. They were determined, and among the rank and file the war fever blinded the sight to all possibilities of defeat.

Sufficient has been said, perhaps, to show that further fighting would only take place to gratify the lust for blood of some of the grossly misguided leaders of the rival armies. Among the Republican leaders--General Li Yuan Hung and his party, as distinct from the military officers--the desire that war should forthwith cease was, I believe, absolutely sincere. General Li Yuan Hung had shown the world that what he said he meant: one could not point to a single public utterance from him and find that he had not done all that lay in his power consistently towards working out his promises. Li Yuan Hung was a man of political solidarity--not brilliant, but solid, sound, having an opinion {171} and fearing no one in stating clearly and openly that opinion. Not in one thing, but in dozens throughout this dreadful season of disturbance he had shown that if he failed in carrying out what he said he meant to carry out, it had not been because of any inconsistency of his own so much as of treachery among his army and instability among members of his party. He had announced frankly all along what he wanted, and what he would be prepared to pay for realising sooner or later.

He now stated that he wanted peace--peace at all costs; to re-establish peace and to ensure that the fearful bloodshed should stop, he was prepared to make concessions. The general conduct of Li Yuan Hung, unmarred as it had been by any unharmonious note with other members of his party and marked throughout by a stability of purpose which had surprised the whole world, had been such that his promises could be relied upon. He had shown sufficient of himself to warrant respect from all, friends and enemies alike, for he had acted cleanly. And now he wanted peace.

Meantime many of the most influential foreigners in Hankow were doing all they could to assist in the bringing in of peace. Merchants, missionaries, officials, and others were all anxious to assist with their influence for peace, and if war, with all its carnage and bloodshed and savagery, were again to come to menace this central part of China, it would come only as a direct desire from the Imperial army and with far greater horrors than had yet been seen.

If further war were to come? So much had been seen during the past eight slow-moving weeks to show what devastation and utter social wretchedness could be wrought when men elect to settle their differences by force of arms. The killing of men, the burning of property--these are brutal features, but not the worst by any means. By the side of the horrors that come along in the wake of these ghastly battles, these are barely worth consideration. The slain are, after all, {172} out of the misery they have helped to make. It is those who remain behind--those widows with the hungry, half-clad or naked children, homeless, foodless, friendless, with no roof above them at night but the cold, steely sky--these are the ones who suffer. The whole countryside, with its homeless and foodless people, its ruined, burnt-out hamlets and family homesteads, its ruined rice-crops, its cruel waste so wantonly forced upon it by the Imperialists, cried aloud in its weary desolation for peace. If the war were stopped, one thought that the bloody struggles of the past few weeks would become powerful agents of civilisation, reshaping and remoulding the Old China into a new land and a new people. But further war in that sad, sad country would tend only to make the passions of the armies wax fiercer and the hatreds more bitter.

Peace negotiations meantime hung in the balance. A fifteen-day armistice was agreed to, and by that time it was hoped that the Peace Conference would bring matters finally to a peaceful end.

* * * * *

His Excellency Tang Shao-yi is a magnificent fellow. He is calm, an infinitely human man, kindly disposed, easily approached, had borne a character that was clean. When he was appointed as plenipotentiary to the Peace Conference for Yuan Shih K'ai, the Revolutionists were pleased because Tang Shao-yi was known to be a man of extremely liberal views, sound, and not unsympathetic towards real reform. He had spent some considerable time abroad, and, coming with full power from Yuan Shih K'ai, was hailed with a good deal of pomp when he came to Hankow. In the British Municipal Building Tang Shao-yi had a suite of rooms, and rested in Hankow for a couple of days before going down to Shanghai, where, with mutual consent, the Peace Conference was to be held.

It must be made known that, as soon as Hanyang {173} fell, Dr. Wu Ting Fang, than whom is no better-known Chinese diplomat in the world, assumed a very prominent position in the ambitious Republican party. Dr. Wu Ting Fang was generally recognised to be the best man suited to carry on peace negotiations from the Revolutionary party, and he, with several secretaries and advisers, met Tang Shao-yi and his advisers in Shanghai on December 18, 1911. This conference was looked upon throughout the civilised world as an epoch-making event: it was to be a red-letter day in future histories. "Peace, peace," ran the legend. Not only was one-quarter of the human race, and all that country and honour and liberty mean to them, immediately involved, but if one had the true prophetic eye he was able to look out upon a change whose effects would spread to the uttermost parts of the civilised globe. The effects of this Peace Conference then about to shape the future of this wonderful land were looked upon as immeasurable, illimitable. Dr. Wu Ting Fang, General Li Yuan Hung, able leaders of a movement shaking Chinese life to its vitals, on the one hand; Tang Shao-yi, Yuan Shih K'ai, representatives of the oldest faction of the whole human race, on the other hand--upon these men rested a world-wide responsibility it has seldom fallen to the lot of men to have had placed upon them.

"Peace, peace; at all costs let us have peace." So, sincerely as it seemed, cried both parties. That both sides were in earnest there is every reason to believe. Those who knew General Li Yuan Hung, the youngest hero of the world, were able more and more to testify with increasing knowledge of the man that he wished nothing more than that China should be freed from the Manchu yoke. All else he would forego to establish peace that should bring prosperity, a peace that should be permanent and knit the whole Empire together as nothing else could. Those who knew Dr. Wu Ting Fang realised that, as an able leader of {174} modern thought and that party whose aim is progress, he was sincere in all that he did to bring about a China enlightened and able to stand in line with nations of the East and West. Tang Shao-yi was a man whose innate sincerity and true humility in high places had won the confidence of all who knew him. He was, as always he had been, veritably a political prince of peace. He loved his country.

And finally Yuan Shih K'ai. All knew him or of him. Some praised him, but it was a penalty of his greatness that some anathematised him. China to him also was as dear as his fame or his life. There were two pictures: a dawn of peace and tranquillity, a China freed from all racial bitterness, a China plunging manfully out and in her plunge being assisted by all the Powers of the world; the other picture shows a China going down to the deeps of internal despair, renewed hostilities, further bloodshed. And all those who knew what the war had been, those who had seen those twelve thousand mothers' sons hacked and hewn and blown into eternity by infuriated members of their own great race entertained merely one common hope.

I went down to Shanghai and remained in that city whilst the Peace Conference was in progress. To go from the scene of action in Central China to Shanghai was to pass at one stroke from the din of war to the tranquillity of peace and undisturbed civilisation. Hard indeed was it for any one who had been through the crisis in Hankow actually to realise the peace of China's great metropolis--the contrast was so enormous as to force it upon one's imagination that the war was over, that peace assuredly had come. One missed the cannonading, the utter devastation and universal suffering, the burnt-out hamlets and the homeless thousands all over the countryside.

Tang Shao-yi, when he called upon Li Yuan Hung, was reported to have been very surprised at the meagre following that still stood by the Revolutionary leader--of {175} course, several delegates had already left for Shanghai, and he predicted that it would be only a matter of time when we should see the Republicans forced in the very nature of things to take the monarchical course. That General Li Yuan Hung and his supporters had been willing to sink their personal ambitions on behalf of the general welfare of the country had again and again been declared by their leader in the press and by other means. But Tang Shao-yi seemed, when I interviewed him in Hankow just before he sailed for Shanghai, to believe that this was mere Chinese bluff; he declared that they had no other course, and that they did this because they foresaw that their popularity soon would be greatly diminished when the gilt from the official gingerbread had rubbed off.

In the Hankow neighbourhood there were thousands who had no food to eat, no clothes, who had no idea of how they were going to keep body and soul intact during the coming winter, and some of the older conservative school were beginning to question whether it was, after all, worth the candle, and whether it would have been better to have gone in the same old way, bad as that had been. The result of the war in which they took so lively an interest was coming upon them as a horrible nightmare, and I am of the opinion that, although they were as much passively in favour of reform as they had been, four-fifths of the people were horribly tired of waiting for the good times which then seemed farther off than ever. All this was depressing to Tang, coming among it for the first time. But Tang Shao-yi was most generous in his references to General Li Yuan Hung. He thought that the zeal, the disinterestedness, and the abilities with which Li Yuan Hung had carried out so successfully the general principles of the Revolution, the persecution he had suffered and the ignominy that his army had brought to him, and the firmness and independence that he had shown under all circumstances should have had a strong claim {176} upon the sympathies of all people. But the great preponderance of the common people, those who had been hit hardest in the burning of their homes and the loss of all they possessed, were inevitably downcast and wished that it would all pass away and bring anything else so long as peace came with it. Therefore, all looked eagerly to the peace delegates. It was a season most trying to the Revolutionary party, for they were all waiting to see what the outcome of the negotiations would be; and this lull allowed of a little respite for talk. One department at Wuchang was suspected of taking away the power from another, one man from another; some thought that it would be better for General Li to go away and talk peace, whilst others declared that he could not get away because the party would not let him.

Tang Shao Yi, however, would not talk much about the general situation. He told me that he knew very little, that I should know much more than he of what had happened, and would be able to make a fairly good bid as to what would happen in the immediate future, and in spite of the fact that he was Yuan Shih K'ai's chief peace delegate he could not tell what was in Yuan's mind. "And you see," he continued softly, "both sides are now so earnestly seeking for peace that it seems to me that there should not be much trouble about a complete settlement. We realise that they [referring to the Wuchang party] are so strong that we shall have to concede a good deal. There surely cannot be any more war, and if every one means what he says and is prepared to do his best for the best common interests, I think we shall soon complete the Peace Conference."

Tang Shao Yi then looked into the fire. For some time neither of us spoke. He held his rheumatic-stricken arm under his fur gown, then looked up and switched off from political theorising to small talk.

The Revolutionary delegates, when this Peace Conference {177} was arranged, were in a frame of mind determined not to give way. A criterion of their attitude and aims for the Conference may be drawn from the following interview I was privileged to secure as I travelled down-river to Shanghai on board the same steamer with three of General Li Yuan Hung's delegates. The chief man was one Hu Ying, whose main statement was as follows:--

"Our attitude towards Yuan Shih K'ai is summed up in a single sentence. If he obstinately upholds the Manchu Dynasty against the wishes of the people, then he is doomed for ever. He may succeed in overriding the wishes of the people for awhile, but no single man, however able, will be able to stand in the way of the people.

"We do not wish this to be a fight with arms. We know that it would take a good deal of time for us to be able to stand man for man with the Imperial Army, but we know that we have half the world at our back."

Now, Mr. Hu Ying, this same man, some years ago narrowly escaped losing his head for being mixed up in an alleged Revolutionary escapade that cost his more enthusiastic confederate his head. He was the President of the Foreign Office of the Hupeh Government when I interviewed him. He was a man who to a very large extent had been the prime mover in the Republican dream of the future. For many years a strong Revolutionist, he had, however, been called upon to study the arts of Revolutionism in prison. For when the Revolution broke out he was still behind the prison bars in Wuchang, and under normal conditions would have passed the remainder of a miserable life dreaming of the great reforms he now hoped to help forward. He was a man who incontestably had the confidence of Li Yuan Hung. Mr. Hu was only one of a number of delegates sent down to join with Dr. Wu Ting Fang in upholding the Republican side of the argument against Tang Shao Yi and his assistants. They all represented General Li Yuan Hung and thoroughly understood his ideas. Mr. Hu and another of the {178} delegates--a Mr. C. T. Wang, who was a graduate of an American University and in China held the responsible position of the National Secretaryship of the Y.M.C.A. in China--were chosen to assist Dr. Wu by representatives of the various Revolutionary provinces represented at Wuchang. Hu Ying was a short, rather stout Chinese, who told me frankly that he felt fearfully out of it because he could not speak my foreign words, and a man who would never be taken seriously at first sight as one capable of shaping the foreign policy of the Chinese Empire. As a matter of fact, he was nervous with foreigners--it may be, of course, that his long term in prison had made him so--and looked up rather timidly over the steel rims of his glasses as he spoke. He laughed with buoyant candour over his own jokes, and was somewhat of a caricature in his foreign felt hat that was the only sign about him that he had ambitions for Occidentalising his country.

This hat was worn far back over his head in much the same way as he had been used to wearing the little round one; his glasses were tilted forward considerably on his little squat nose, his uneven teeth did not tend to enhance his personal beauty, and as one looked down upon him the only item in his general appearance that came in for admiration were his exquisitely furred silk gowns. 'Twas cold, so he wore three of them, the top one a brilliant flowered blue. He was also a little short-sighted, had a slight stoop, endeavoured vainly to grow a moustache, had a queueless head of outrageously unkempt hair, and did not look a statesman. But he was one. In those jet-black eyes one could often see the fire of unquenchable enthusiasm as he spoke of the possibilities of his own country. He was, perhaps, what one would be justified in calling a typical Revolutionist. There was a cut about them all that was non-Chinese, and yet at heart, in word, and thought, they themselves were essentially Chinese. Perhaps this {179} was not so striking at Shanghai and other places on the coast, but one could tell in the Wuchang centre at a glance those who were rampant Revolutionists; the foreign cap worn on the rough, queueless head, the foreign boot, the alleged foreign coat sometimes and other desiderata of clothing, neither foreign nor Chinese, which had become sadly out of joint--these were the undeniable characteristics.

"Of course, you have been a Revolutionary for some years, have you not?" I asked Hu Ying.

Well, yes, he had. Some years ago--and he looked half-ashamedly at me, as if he were not quite sure whether it were now a fit subject for review--a very dear friend of his had been beheaded, and he had expected to be, for being rather outspoken and acting daringly along the direct line of their thought in regard to the way in which their country should progress. His references to prison life were not enthusiastic, although for sheer helplessness he laughed heartily now and again during the conversation as he recalled certain epochs of his years in gaol. He thought it most unjust, of course, and now that he was out and had been entrusted with the responsible duties of partly moulding the foreign policy of a New China, he saw plainly that his duty lay in working as hard as he could--and this, he informed me, he fully intended doing. The man who had lost his head would have been a good man, too, just at this juncture, but the poor fellow, a master in the Boone University in his time, had now paid the price with his head.

"And I think that every man in China who believes in his country and his own race can be nothing else than a Revolutionist--we are reformers rather, and no matter whether we belong to the Republican party, the Monarchical party, or any other party, if we love our country as we should, we must all be Revolutionists."

His ensuing references to the Manchurian Dynasty, not bubbling over with praise, could have no purpose {180} were they printed here, save to show how great was the hatred of the Wuchang party towards the old rulers of China. During the conversation he referred to his companion, Mr. Sun Fa Shu, a portly, aristocratic gentleman dressed immaculately in latest foreign fashion--a long green tweed overcoat, a slouch cloth hat, gloves, walking-stick, and all the rest of it.

Mr. Sun all along had been the right-hand man of General Li Yuan Hung. Nothing happened in the Revolutionary court without Mr. Sun's knowledge. He it was who framed all the Revolutionary edicts that had awakened the world, and was looked upon as the scholar of the camp. To his finger-tips he was an aristocrat. He spoke low and slowly, thoughtfully always, gave little gestures now and again to add to his meaning and to make it clear in Chinese, and showed great approbation when we caught the drift of his argument. Both these men in their conversation were charitable to every member of the Government, eulogistic of some, and would not have me for a moment believe that they wished to say anything wrong about any one. They were, they said, merely telling me truthfully what they thought. I referred to the length of time negotiations would take, and suggested that people would tire of waiting for the good times supposed to be coming. Did they think that the great bulk of the common people of China actually understood what the issues were?

Mr. Sun, with his gold-rimmed spectacles shining in the sunlight, looked from my feet straight into my eyes. He spoke with low emphasis. "There is, perhaps, no other nation in the world," he began, "that loves peace and is so good-natured and patient as the Chinese. Yet when they are provoked they strike back with vigour. The Manchu arrogance and corruption are things which very few nations could bear. That we have borne them for over two hundred years shows our patience, but"--and he raised his delicate finger with {181} a slight shake to show his feeling on the point--"to everything there is a limit. The blow has now been struck, and the hundreds and thousands of patriots in China will never lay down their arms until the Manchu Dynasty is wiped out of existence and the Chinese once more manage their own affairs and in their own way." Here he stopped, turned slightly in the indignation which his own thoughts gave him, and remained looking at his companion, who said nothing.

"But if the Manchu Dynasty has done some harm, surely you must admit that it has taught the people, no matter in what way, how to preserve peace and to love it?" I asked perseveringly.

"Much of the backwardness of the Chinese nation, as a nation," retorted Sun Fa Shu, "has been due largely to the misrule of the Manchu Dynasty. Everybody knows it. Everybody admits it. Its first principle has been how to keep the people of China as ignorant and as poor as possible. For knowledge and wealth, when acquired by the Chinese, cannot but impair the supremacy of the Manchus, which has been maintained, like highway robbery, by sheer force. A China emancipated, therefore, means a China prosperous and enlightened. Except one or two nations whose principles are not above those of the Manchus, and who delight in land-grabbing and carnage of warfare, we feel sure that the world desires China to be a progressive and enlightened country."

"But do you think the Revolutionary party, as it is, strong enough to establish conditions which shall permanently make for peace and real progress?"

At this point Mr. Hu Ying spoke. He said that he was convinced that they could, and if at first they could not institute ideal conditions, they would if they were given time. "The Anglo-Saxons," he continued, "have taught the world the great lesson of government by representation--the Revolutionary movement aims at what they have shown us. We aim at the overthrow {182} of a decadent Court, and the establishment of a Government which shall respond to the will of the people. In the endeavour to bring about such a representative government, Young China, we know full well, has much to learn. But it has been conceded by all people that there is no school so efficient as the----"

Hu Ying was waiting for a word when the third delegate, a graduate from one of the American universities and an ardent enthusiast in the New Government, gave the translation as "the school of experience, the school of 'hard knocks,'" and thereby caused a smile.

"And," went on Hu, "let us have a chance to learn, and in a decade or two the world shall see the possibilities and genius of our people for representative government."

"What do you consider the main point upon which the two parties will have difficulty in seeing eye to eye about at the Peace Conference?" I asked of the three.

Simultaneously they spoke, and then the two gave way to Sun Fa Hsu. With fitting dignity he replied that the one solitary point which the Revolutionists would never waive was their demand for the abolition of the Manchu Dynasty. And so these three representatives of the Revolutionary party of Wuchang were of one determined mind upon this vital question; their party would waive anything else, perhaps, but not that. They were immovable. I suggested that perhaps if peace terms could not be arranged they might be forced to give way even on this point also. But they said they would not; "No, if there must be Manchu rule again, then we must again go to war, much as we do not wish to. And there are thousands who will die before they again submit.

"When that point is settled," said Sun Fa Hsu with some vigour, "then all other points can easily be adjusted. Upon that alone everything hinges. We are fighting for the freedom of our people from the Manchu yoke."

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"Do you in Wuchang still hold out so strongly for the Republican form of government as you did? I know that General Li Yuan Hung is anxious for a Republic, but do you think there are many who would rather see a Republic than anything else?"

"Whether we should have a Constitutional Monarchy or a Republic we are prepared to leave with the people. What they want we want, and we are prepared to leave the matter for a decision by the vote of the people. For our part, we advocate a Republican form of government, as the Chinese are democratic in their nature and their habits. Even under an absolute monarch careful observers of the Chinese political tendency have remarked that the Chinese Government is a democracy superseded by a monarchy. In other words, the Imperial rule has not been a natural outgrowth of the political habits of the Chinese people, but has been allowed to exist simply because no better substitute has been found. We think we have now found the substitute. It is in a president who is responsible to the people, and yet who, at times when emergency demands, could wield powers greater even than those exercised by a king or an emperor."

"Do you think that Yuan Shih K'ai will be the first President?"

Mr. Sun did not speak for some time. He waited for me to ask the question a second time, and even then did not seem inclined to commit himself. At length he replied:--

"I do not know. Our attitude to Yuan Shih K'ai may be summed up in a single sentence. If he obstinately upholds the Manchu Dynasty against the wishes of the people, then he is doomed for ever. He may succeed in overriding the wishes of the people for a while, but no single man, however able, will be allowed to stand in the way of the people. On the other hand, the opportunity now presents itself for Yuan Shih K'ai to earn the everlasting gratitude of the nation {184} in yielding to their wishes in putting an end to the Manchu Dynasty once and for all. If he does this, Yuan Shih K'ai will show himself a wise man. We know that it would take some time for us to stand man for man with the Imperial Army, but we have half a world at our back."

The above sentiments may be taken as a fair example of the views held by the Revolutionary leaders on the point of meeting at the Peace Conference. These men, hitherto unknown to the world--always excepting men of the stamp of Wu Ting Fang and Tang Shao-yi--were now making history on a gigantic scale, reformers who had just sprung into being as it seemed, but whose whole past bore testimony to the manner in which they had been working for China's great era of reform and progress.

* * * * *

In the following chapter will be found a _résumé_ of the Peace Conference, unsatisfactory as it was in most respects.

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