The Yangtze River is navigable for steam vessels for a distance of sixteen hundred miles from the sea. Hankow, six hundred miles inland, can at all seasons of the year take ocean going vessels. Ichang, three hundred and fifty miles further inland, marks the upper limit of ordinary river steamers. Down from this point, the river runs through a vast alluvial plain, in places almost as fickle and capricious as to channel as is our Mississippi. (See map next page.)
Immediately above Ichang, however, ranges of high mountains begin and continue west through to Tibet. Through these ranges descends the Yangtze in a series of wonderfully beautiful gorges and awe inspiring rapids. At the top of these gorges lies Chungking, the commercial capital of the province Szechwan, three hundred and fifty miles above Ichang. Almost exactly half way between Ichang and Chungking is Wanhsien, an ancient, densely populated city built on the side of long, sloping hills a bit above a decided bend of the river. The usual anchorage for gunboats and merchantmen is along the shingle bank opposite the city. The Standard Oil installation is well below the place, and the few missionaries live outside the city and in the hills behind it.
The ascent of the rapids requires small, shallow draft, heavily powered steamers especially fitted with sturdy steering gear and three or four rudders. The result is that cargo must be trans-shipped at Ichang to and from the lower river steamers, for none of them could operate above that point. It is equally prohibitive for any gunboats to operate above Ichang other than those especially constructed for this duty. America
has at present but two which can ascend the rapids, the Palos and the Monocacy. The British had in September but three which could perform this service with any degree of safety, the Widgeon and the Teal, practically sister ships of the Palos and the Monocacy, and the Cockchafer, a large river gunboat carrying one six-inch gun and available for service only during high water season. The French have three upriver gunboats of which one, the Doudart de la Gree, was at Wanhsien in September. The Japanese have several available for this duty and the Italians one.
About fifty merchantmen operate above Ichang, this number considerably reduced during the low water season in winter. Of these fifty steamers, one-fourth are American, one-third fly the British colors, and the remainder are under various flags—French, Italian, Swedish, and Chinese in about the order named.
Less than a hundred miles above Ichang is the eastern border of Szechwan, a province as large as the state of Texas, mountainous, with fertile valleys, a rich and populous state, a country in itself. Since the establishment of the Chinese Republic in 1911, this province has been the scene of one fruitless struggle after another. The military dominate it entirely and for a decade have ruled it to suit their own ruthless tastes. Since 1913, Szechwan has to all intents and purposes been independent of Peking, and the central government has never been strong enough to subdue it and bring it to terms. Thus it is that for a period of some years continual war has raged amongst the various generals.
These Szechwan wars at times are almost amusing in that they frequently resemble nothing so much as chess games with the lesser generals and the various armies as pieces to be moved about at the will of the players. However, collisions are bound to result, a certain amount of actual fighting goes on, and an enormous expenditure of ammunition occurs. The money to support these operations, of course, comes from the civilian section of the populace, most of it from the merchants. There is no object to any of these wars other than the aggrandizement of the generals concerned. None of them stay in power longer than a few months. Not only in Szechwan but throughout China, whenever one general by dint of superior ability or strategy rises above the rest of his kind, all the others combine to produce his downfall, this regardless of whether or not they have been bitter enemies prior to this amalgamation.
Each general controls his own territory through military power alone. His object is solely to enrich himself, and he attains it by whatever means are at hand. He may or may not be allied with the general in control at Chengtu, the capital of the province. It apparently makes little difference. Suffice it to say that each general is a law unto himself and is responsible to no government. But one argument is ultimately convincing insofar as he is concerned. Negotiations are all right as far as they go; money talks very loudly; personalities count considerably; but force, actually or potentially at hand, forms the determining factor in many an argument. And as the turmoil in Szechwan increases year by year, force is rapidly becoming the deciding factor in clashes with these lawless generals.
And so, after this lengthy but necessary preamble, we come to Yang Sen.
Considerably better educated than the other Szechwanese generals, Yang Sen is a man ordinarily of outwardly pleasing personality, a gentleman with many wives and an overwhelming ego, an unreasonable individual all the more annoying because of the politely plausible nature of his arguments. More than a year ago other Szechwanese generals combined against Yang Sen and drove him out of the province. However, negotiations last spring permitted him to return up-river, and he established his headquarters in May at Wanhsien.
In general, foreigners hailed with relief the return of Yang Sen. It was felt that with his superior education and his contact with occidentals he would behave in a fair and impartial manner toward foreign shipping and that many of the existing troubles and annoyances would disappear with his advent upon the scene.
Quite the contrary took place. Of all the annoying, lawless, perverse generals who have ever been in power at Wanhsien, Yang Sen proved to be the worst of the lot—unreasonable, exasperating, and with an absolute disregard of treaty rights and the lives and properties of individuals.
Shipping difficulties at Wanhsien and along the river in that vicinity began coincident with Yang Sen’s return to Szechwan. He asserted the right of search of foreign vessels, alleging that he feared that they were carrying arms, ammunition, and military personnel to his actual and potential enemies further up the Yangtze. American and British gunboats at Wanhsien properly refused this demand, for nothing of this character was being done nor had been attempted by the steamers of these countries.
He sent huge cargoes of opium down river in steamers flying the flags of China and some of the lesser European countries and as a result was in constant difficulties with the customs’ authorities until they finally gave up in despair. He imposed illegal taxes and dues and required every vessel anchoring in the harbor of Wanhsien to pay him a direct bribe of three hundred Yuan dollars. He insisted that all shipping carry his soldiers up and down the river at his and their whims and was profoundly irritated at both Americans and British when the gunboats of these nations refused to permit this unlawful and unneutral practice. Clash after clash occurred between groups of his soldiers and the gunboats, for in many cases it was necessary for armed parties of American and British bluejackets to board merchantmen of their own nationalities and drive these Chinese soldiers off. This was usually done without actual recourse to arms.
In the beginning of June, H.M.S. Cockchafer took over the Wanhsien station and remained there throughout the summer. Constant trouble with Yang Sen occurred from the beginning of the Cockchafer’s stay. Chinese armed troops were time after time placed upon British ships, and the military insisted that they be carried from one place to another, with or without payment of passage. At the beginning, protests usually secured the removal of these troops, although delays of as much as three days frequently resulted to the merchantmen.
Early in August three British vessels, the Wantung, the Wanhsien, and the Fushan went down river from Chungking and on different dates were commandeered at Foochow, a port sixty miles above Wanhsien, by Yang Sen’s soldiers, who forced them to carry hundreds of armed men.
On August 27, the steamer Wanhsien arrived at the port of that name upward bound to Chungking. During the night General Ju, one of Yang Sen’s subordinates, boarded the ship with a hundred armed soldiers. The matter was reported to the Cockchafer at daylight the next morning. The ship was ordered to anchor close abreast the gunboat, and the general was informed that armed troops could not be allowed on British steamers as this was a complete breach of neutrality.
During that day, August 28, General Ju left the Wanhsien, but he gave his soldiers orders that they were on no account to leave the ship. He directed them to barricade themselves in the steel-enclosed after house and to open fire to repel any attempt by the Cockchafer to send an armed guard to eject them. Snipers were posted with orders to fire on the Cockchafer should she attempt to move.
On the evening of the twenty-eighth the chief-of-staff of General Ju came on board the Cockchafer, and the whole matter was explained to him and the impossibility of British merchantmen violating neutrality by consenting to carry troops was stressed. To this the officer replied that three British steamers had during the month carried large numbers of troops from Foochow and that the present refusal to carry his general and bodyguard indicated rank favoritism and discrimination. It was patiently explained that these British ships had not willingly carried the troops but had been commandeered and forced to do the will of the military. The chief-of-staff then left the gunboat, stating that they would inform his general of the matter but would not promise to remove the troops.
On August 29, the Wanliu arrived at Wanhsien flying the signal: “Send an armed guard.” The armed guard was sent, and the officer in charge of it received a disturbing report from the captain.
The ship, while discharging passengers at Yunyang, forty miles below Wanhsien and within Yang Sen’s command, was boarded by sixteen armed troops. At the same time sampans containing armed soldiers approached the ship. The Wanliu proceeded at slow speed to avoid the sampans, but fire was opened from both banks. The troops on board rushed the bridge and the engine room but were driven back by the ship’s officers.
Meanwhile a sampan containing eight soldiers in trying to come alongside fouled another, drifted astern in a sinking condition, and eventually sank. It is not believed that any occupants of this sampan were drowned, for it was closely surrounded by other sampans before it sank.
The Wanliu continued on her way. The sixteen soldiers on board seized and bound the compradore (head Chinese official of the ship). They threatened to kill him and also the captain. However, the British officers kept armed watch on the bridge, and the vessel safely arrived at Wanhsien.
These sixteen soldiers then endeavored to hold up the ship on the excuse that the soldiers in the swamped sampan had drowned and that compensation had to be paid for the loss of their lives. The signal to the Cockchafer was therefore sent. The armed guard from the gunboat promptly disarmed these soldiers and sent them ashore.
The I’ling, an American merchantman, had come into Yunyang on the heels of the Wanliu. She was boarded by the remainder of the troops who had attacked the Wanliu. She perforce carried them to Wanhsien and anchored there half an hour after the arrival of the Wanliu. The troops in the Fling immediately landed and lined the bank abreast the Wanliu, threatening her with their rifles. Eventually by demonstration on the part of the armed guard the Wanliu was able to weigh anchor and proceed for Chungking.
Immediately before the Wanliu sailed upriver the original one hundred soldiers of General Ju, who had barricaded themselves in the Wanhsien, left the ship. Coincident with their departure four hundred armed soldiers belonging to Yang Sen boarded this vessel and took complete charge of her.
Yang Sen personally went on board with these soldiers and informed the captain that he intended arresting all British ships and holding them until full reparation had been made for the swamped sampan at Yunyang. His soldiers then barricaded themselves in the ship and posted snipers with rifles leveled at the Cockchafer. At the same time a large hostile demonstration was made against the gunboat by thousands of troops who lined both banks of the river.
That evening the British merchantman Wantung arrived in port from Chungking and was immediately boarded by three or four hundred armed troops who took complete charge of the ship and barricaded themselves in her.
On August 30, further hostile demonstrations were carried out against the Cockchafer. The three British officers in each captured merchant vessel were made prisoners in their quarters, and they were denied further communication with the gunboat.
On August 31, Yang Sen stopped all communication between the Cockchafer and the shore. Neither food nor fuel was allowed to be supplied. No sampans were permitted to visit the ship. The boatman of a sampan regularly employed by the gunboat, knowing nothing of this order, came alongside the ship early that morning. He was arrested by soldiers the moment he went ashore and was brutally butchered on the bank abreast the ship.
On September 1, an oil steamer arrived from Chungking with the British consul, who went on board the Cockchafer. The oil steamer returned to Chungking without interference as Yang Sen had been informed that she was bringing the consul to negotiate with him.
The consul landed to interview Yang Sen with a view to opening negotiations for the release of the British ships concerned. These negotiations utterly failed, for Yang Sen had now magnified the sinking by the Wanliu of one sampan containing eight soldiers into three junks containing sixty soldiers and eighty-five thousand silver dollars. He refused to listen to the question of removing the troops from the steamers until the matter had been settled. He also declined to agree to the removal of the foreign officers from the ships to the Cockchafer, regardless of the points that they were entirely innocent men and that he had not even made a charge against them. He still refused to release them even when a guarantee was offered that when these foreign officers were placed on board the gunboat the ships would remain at Wanhsien until the matter was settled.
On the morning of September 2, Yang Sen returned the call of the consul at the postmaster’s house in the city. The consul again endeavored to open negotiations, but Yang Sen was defiant and decidedly truculent and refused to listen to any suggestions regarding the release of the ships. During this interview the general stated that he intended to hold the three officers in each ship as hostages to prevent force being used against him, and he threatened immediate execution of these six unfortunate men at the first hostile move of the British.
This hopeless state of affairs was reported to Rear Admiral Cameron, the Commander of the British Yangtze flotilla. He ordered the Ividgcoti to Wanhsien and promptly organized an expeditionary force from the war vessels in the lower river.
To form this expedition the British merchantman Kiawo was chartered by the government and placed in commission as a man-of-war. She was armed and manned by officers and men from the cruiser Despatch and the gunboats Scarab and Mantis. Commander Darley of the Despatch was placed in command of the entire operation. The objects of the expedition were to rescue the six captive merchant officers, to save if possible the Chinese crews of the two seized vessels, to disarm and to clear the troops from these ships, and to bring the vessels back to Ichang. Of necessity, in view of Yang Sen’s threats, the attack had to be in the nature of a surprise lest the six officers be killed before they could be rescued. The expedition proceeded up-river with secrecy. The Kiawo left Ichang looking as usual except for the white ensign. En route to Wanhsien she was repainted a curious camouflage of red, gray, and black.
It has been surmised that a surprise would be possible and that when the Kiawo drew alongside the ships the troops on board would surrender and clear off. However, events developed that Yang Sen knew all about the expedition and laid his plans accordingly.
On the afternoon of September 5, the troops, both on the banks and in the captured ships, became very threatening. The IVanhsien officers had before this barricaded themselves within their armored bridge. They had plenty of food and obtained water by lowering buckets over the side at night. The Wantung officers were not so fortunate, for they were prisoners amidships in their dining saloon. During this afternoon the Widgeon took a position on the port beam of the Wantung, and the Cockchafer took station on the port quarter of the Wanhsien. Great anxiety was felt in the gunboats as to the fate of the six merchant officers, for it was feared that they might be dragged out and executed at any moment.
Late in the afternoon the Kiawo was sighted standing up the river. With her naval personnel under cover, she proceeded straight to the Wanhsien. On board both captured ships no stir of excitement appeared. The soldiers were lolling about the decks, and some were even calmly eating their evening meal. As the Kiawo went alongside the Wanhsien a soldier took a line from the man-of-war and secured it.
Then an inferno exploded.
As the British sailors rushed out on deck to attack and board the enemy, scores of Chinese soldiers ran out from behind concealed positions and opened a withering fire upon the British with rifles and machine guns.
The tars responded valiantly and attempted to board in the face of a terrific fire.
Commander Darley, who was on the bridge with Captain Williamson, the master of the vessel, cried out: “Look after the ship, Captain! We are in for it! My place is with my men.”
He snatched up two revolvers and rushed into the fray.
Followed by his devoted bluejackets he boarded the Wanhsien, but he was bayonet- ted almost immediately, and the boarding party was driven back. Two men volunteered to get his body, which was lying in plain view, but these brave fellows were shot down and the body was not recovered.
Had the people in the Kiawo known that the officers were barricaded in the bridge the operation would have been much simplified, but for some time it was believed that they were held prisoners in the staterooms. The attack was accordingly directed amidships. Furious fighting continued, and repeated attempts were made to board the Wanhsien.
Eventually the naval party found out where the merchant officers were, and they pulled them one by one from the wing shutter of the bridge. The three officers safely rescued, the Kiawo hauled off and poured a hail of bullets into the Wanhsien, raking her fore and aft and killing the soldiers by the scores.
The Kiawo then went for the Wantung, putting her bow alongside the stern of the captured vessel. Here again the fighting was intense. The officers were actually imprisoned amidships expecting death at any moment. Boarding was repeatedly attempted, but it speedily became apparent that it could not be accomplished in the face of the galling fire.
In desperation the captain broke loose from the soldiers, ran over the upper deck of the Wantung, and leaped across to the Kiazvo. He was shot in the neck while jumping, fortunately not a severe wound. The two other officers threw off their captors, rushed to the side, and jumped overboard. The chief officer saved himself by swimming to the Doudart de la Gree. The unfortunate chief engineer was shot while struggling in the current and was drowned.
The Kiawo then shoved clear of the Wantung. In the meanwhile a general engagement was going on.
No sooner did the fight between the Kiawo and the Wanhsien begin than the troops on both banks of the river opened up on the Cockchafer with a very heavy rifle and machine gun fire. Captain Acheson of the Cockchafer gave the order to commence action, mounted the ladder leading to the bridge, and fell helpless to the deck, shot in the back by a sniper on the bank. The bullet fortunately was deflected by the heavy belt he wore and so missed a vital part. For two hours this gallant officer lay on his back, powerless to move his body but directing the fire and ordering the details of the battle. His executive, the only other officer attached to the ship, was killed early in the engagement.
Field pieces opened up upon the Cockchafer from the city and from four separated points about the harbor. The Cockchafer first tried to silence these guns with her lighter battery but was unable to do so. She then opened up with her six-inch gun and managed to do some heavy damage. She was being fired upon from all sides—the city, both banks, the Wanhsien, and the Wantung.
In the meantime the Widgeon was by no means idle. Coming under a heavy fire herself, though the Chinese concentrated on the Cockchafer, the Widgeon endeavored to silence the batteries, both in the city and around the harbor. After the Kiawo was clear of the Wantung, the Widgeon bombarded that vessel, killing many soldiers who were barricaded behind the armor on the bridge.
In silencing the batteries mounted within the city considerable damage was necessarily done, fires springing up here and there. One six-inch shell passed along a narrow street, not hitting anything and the flimsy walls of the houses on both sides collapsed like paper from the terrific suction.
By the time the Kiawo had hauled off from the Wantung, the officers in her were either killed or wounded. So the master of the ship took her down-river and anchored for the night five miles below the city.
The Cockchafer and the Widgeon continued the battle until dusk and then got underway and proceeded down-river, leaving the. Wanhsien and the Wantung floating shambles and the city ablaze in four points.
The two gunboats anchored near the Kiawo, and the expedition drew breath and took account of the casualties. Of the seven officers who participated in the engagement, three were killed and two wounded. Four bluejackets were killed and thirteen wounded. Out of the one hundred and ten naval officers and men engaged in the battle twenty per cent were casualties.
As to the Chinese losses, it will never be known how many were killed and wounded. A conservative estimate would put the number of their casualties as 500, mostly soldiers. It is surprising that this number was not greater.
The captain and the executive officer of the Widgeon were the only remaining officers available for duty. Both the Widgeon and the Cockchafer were almost out of fuel. It was therefore decided to proceed to Ichang.
The executive officer of the Widgeon took command of the Cockchafer, and at daybreak the gunboats and the Kiawo proceeded down-river to Ichang.
Negotiations ultimately came about, and Yang Sen after some delay released the
Wanhsien and the Wantung. New crews were sent up, and the ships finally arrived at Ichang.
The tribulations of the British naval wounded were not yet over. There were insufficient hospital facilities available for them at Ichang, and they were therefore placed on board the British merchant steamer Kiangwo to be sent in her to Hankow. The ship arrived at a point five miles above the destination only to receive a terrific fire from Cantonese soldiers on both sides of the river. Thrice within two days the Kiangwo attempted to run the gauntlet but each time was forced to turn back by heavy rifle and machine gun fire.
Then on the morning of the third day along came a convoy consisting of two merchantmen, two American gunboats, and the American destroyer Stewart. This convoy had just been subjected to heavy fire by the Cantonese, a brisk little engagement which terminated abruptly when the Stewart planted a four-inch shell in the midst of these bolshevistic disturbers from the South.
The convoy stopped long enough for one of the gunboat doctors to take over to the Kiangwo fresh dressings and medical supplies, then proceeded on their way up-river.
The Stewart took the wounded on board and put them below the waterline and behind armor. The destroyer then brought her helpless passengers to Hankow, passing through the lines without a shot being fired. The Kiangwo won through that afternoon in a severe machine gun fire.
The reactions to this Wanhsien affair were many and serious.
Outside of Szechwan the Chinese people in general displayed little interest, although the Cantonese (Red) element promptly seized upon it and played it up as another illustration of “imperialistic policy.”
Anti-British propaganda arose all over Szechwan, and especially at Chengtu and Chungking. Most of the foreign women and children at Chengtu had evacuated. At Chungking foreign bungalows outside the city were wrecked and looted, and anti-foreign demonstrations occurred. An anti- British boycott resulted. All of the women and children evacuated down-river.
Peking made feeble noises indicating displeasure at the affair. However, Szechwan and Peking ordinarily mean about as much to each other as do Alaska and Mexico.