The Soong Sisters

by Emily Hahn

  Sun refused to go. He was suspicious of the invitation, quite naturally. But Chen Chiung-ming, still smarting under his dismissal from the post of Governor, seized his chance to criticize the Doctor; he demanded that Sun resign, claiming that there was no reason for carrying on with an extra President in the South, now that the Peking group was behaving itself and forming a Republican government. Sun did not resign, and Chen felt that he had been given enough excuse to start a revolt.

  The Suns did not suspect until the last moment that the dispossessed Governor would really carry out his plan. It is an interesting point that up until two days before the climax, Eling had been visiting them with Rosamonde, her baby daughter. Everything in Canton seemed quiet. Sun had suggested that Kung come South to help him, and had offered him a portfolio, but Dr Kung was absorbed in his educational program for Shansi and was not eager to take part in public life. His wife, however, had been in Canton for seven weeks, and when she was leaving there was a sisterly argument as to whether she should take little Rosamonde back to Shanghai with her . . . .

  “Leave her here,” Chingling urged. “I’ll take good care of her.”

  Eling almost weakened. If she had left the child, history would have been changed; the Suns would never have been able to manage their escape with a baby. But Madame Kung was not philosophical enough to separate herself from her child. Rosamonde went back to Shanghai in time.

  The flight of Sun and Chingling from Canton is now an important and exciting part of China’s history, but nowhere has it been told more vividly than in Madame Sun’s own words, published in a Chinese magazine.

  THE ESCAPE FROM CANTON

  Seizing his opportunity while Dr Sun and his troops were at the front conducting the Northern Expedition, Chen Chiung-ming had marched his men, without giving us any notice of his intention, into the city of Canton. His troops behaved badly, trying to disrupt communications and destroying peace and order. Dr Sun at last resolved to return to the capital.

  As soon as we arrived, Dr Sun commanded the army to withdraw to their original quarters. Chen promised to carry out these orders, and we had no reason to doubt his sincerity, for to all appearances he was retiring to Hweichow, and all this time he continued to give us assurances of his fidelity. He never ceased corresponding with us. Only a week before the insurrection he telegraphed us, congratulating us upon our victory at the front. He had been co-operating with our Party for years. Certainly he can trace all his own power and position back to his work in the Party.

  Chen’s troops, which numbered about twenty-five thousand still living in the city, were now completely demoralized. Looting went on quite openly, and every day the situation became more aggravated. We had only about five hundred men in the capital; all the rest of our troops were at the front. The disparity between the forces was obvious, and Dr Sun tried by open attack to persuade Chen to remove his men to beyond the city limits.

  About two o’clock on the morning of June sixteenth Dr Sun roused me from my sweet dreams, telling me to hurry and dress, that we were in danger and must escape. He had received a phone call to the effect that Chen’s troops were about to march on us. We must leave immediately for a gunboat, from where we could direct our men in resisting the rebels.

  I thought it would be inconvenient for him to have a woman along with him, and urged him to leave me behind for the time being. There couldn’t, I said, be much danger for me as a private person. At last he saw the sense of my argument, but he would not go even then until he had left all fifty of our bodyguard to protect the house. Then he departed, alone.

  Half an hour after he had gone, at about half past two, rifle shots rang out in the vicinity. Our house was half way up the hill, connected with the President’s Residency at Kuang Ying An by a passage about a li in length, which stretched over the streets and houses like a bridge. It had formerly been the private mansion of Lung Chi-kuang. The enemy fired downhill at us from two sides, shouting, “Kill Sun Wen! Kill Sun Wen!” Pitch darkness covered them completely. Our small defense corps therefore kept quiet. I could just discern the crouching bodies of our guards in the darkness.

  As day broke out men began to reply to the fire with their rifles and machine guns, while the enemy employed field guns. My bath was smashed to bits. One third of our handful of troops had been wiped out, but the remaining men resisted with more determination than ever. One of the servants climbed to a high place and succeeded in killing quite a number of the enemy. By eight o’clock our store of ammunition was running low, so we decided to stop shooting and preserve what was left until the last possible moment.

  There seemed no use in remaining, now. Our Captain advised me to leave and the troops agreed with him, promising for their part to stay there in order to halt any possible pursuit by the enemy . . . . Later, all of the fifty were reported killed.

  Four of us. Colonel Bow who was a foreign attendant of Dr Sun’s, two of the guards and myself, taking with us only the most necessary supplies for every day, crawled along the bridge passage to make our escape. The enemy soon concentrated fire on this passage and flying bullets whistled about our ears. Twice bullets brushed past my temple without injuring me, however, for at that time we were quite well protected by solid rails on both sides of the bridge. Soon, though, we came to a place where the rails had been smashed by the fire, and we were obliged to make a wild dash for it. Suddenly Colonel Bow cried out, and blood began to flow down his leg. He had been shot through the thigh; a large artery was broken. The two men carried him on.

  We were several hours in the passage before we could manage to attain the back garden of the Residency. Half an hour after we had got there we saw a flash of fire, and one section of the bridge was completely demolished. Communication therefore was completely cut off. The enemy’s fire was now concentrated on the Residency, and we could not return it because the building was surrounded by private houses.

  We took Colonel Bow into one of the bedrooms and dressed his wound roughly. The sight of his agony greatly affected me, yet he never stopped consoling me, saying, “The victory will be ours some day!”

  From eight in the morning till four that afternoon we were literally buried in a hell of constant gunfire. Bullets flew in all directions. Once the entire ceiling of a room I had left only a few minutes before collapsed.

  At four o’clock Division-commander Wei Pang-ping, who had until then been neutral, sent down an officer to talk peace with us and to offer conditions of surrender. The first demand made by our guard was for my safety, which the officer refused to guarantee, saying that they had no power over the troops of another man. Even the enemy officers could do nothing with these soldiers, who had by this time gone completely mad. Our iron gates were soon smashed and we were confronted by the bloodthirsty bayonets and revolvers of the soldiers, who rushed, however, not for our persons but for the bundles in our hands. Quickly we seized our chance, and ran toward two currents of wild crowds of troops, rushing into each other’s paths; one was a group of escaping soldiers and the other a batch of enemy looters. I succeeded in making an escape, wearing Colonel Bow’s hat and Dr Sun’s raincoat.

  A rush of enemy troops flashed by, attempting to loot the Ministry of Finance and the Customs Superintendent’s office. We picked our way through the crowd in the savage mob, finding ourselves at last in a small lane, safe so far from the looters. I was absolutely exhausted, and begged the guards to shoot me. Instead they dragged me forward, one on each side supporting me . . . . Corpses lay about everywhere, some of Party people and others of plain citizens. Their chests were caved in, their arms slashed, their legs severed. Once we saw two men squatting face to face under a roof. Closer observation revealed that they were dead, their eyes wide open. They must have been killed by stray bullets.

  Again our way was cut off by a group of the mob running out of a little passage. The whisper ran through our party that we should lie flat in the street, pretending to be dead. In this way we were left unmolested; then we
arose and continued our journey. My guards advised me to avoid looking at the corpses lest I should faint. Half an hour later, when the rifle shots were thinning out, we came to a small farmhouse. The owner tried to drive us out, fearing the consequences of sheltering us; his attempt was forestalled, however, by a timely swoon on my part.

  I woke up to find the guards washing me with cold water, and fanning me. One of them went out to see what he could of the way things were going, when suddenly there came a tattoo of rifle shots. The guard indoors rushed to shut the door; he told me that the other one had been struck by a bullet and was probably dead by this time.

  While the firing subsided I disguised myself as an old countrywoman, and with the guard in the guise of a pedlar we left the cottage. I picked up a basket and a few vegetables on the way, and carried them with me. At last we reached the house of a friend which had already been searched that morning. To go on was absolutely impossible, so we spent the night there. Shelling never ceased the entire night, and our relief was enormous when we heard cannon shots at last from the gunboats. Dr Sun, then, was safe . . . .

  Next morning, still in my countrywoman outfit, I arrived at Shameen with the others, and there another friend, a foundry worker, arranged for a small motorboat for me, by which we got to another house in Linnan. The river was thronged with boats full of booty, both girls and goods. They were being sent away for safety. It was reported that two women unfortunate enough to answer to my description had been thrown into jail. That same afternoon I left Canton, the house in which I had stayed the night was searched again.

  At last, that night, I succeeded in meeting Dr Sun on board ship, after a life and death struggle. We soon went to Hongkong, disguised.

  Chingling managed to reach Shanghai soon after the escape. Dr Sun, however, stayed aboard the ship for almost two months more, waiting for a possible revolution among the troops and hoping for help. Chiang Kai-shek stayed with him, looking after him; the Generalissimo has himself written a history of that period, and his biographers record how he worked, devoting himself to the Doctor and doing all the necessary jobs, from those of a servant to the work of a common sailor, trying to mitigate the trials of life on a Chinese gunboat under the tropical Cantonese sun.

  After waiting as long as they could they gave up hope. Dr Sun also returned to Shanghai, to Rue Molière.

  CHAPTER XII

  Death of a Leader

  It was at this time, after the escape of the Suns from Canton in September of 1922, that the Doctor’s friendly relations with the Soviet became publicized. Sun had naturally been deeply interested in and sympathetic with the Russian Revolution when it took place in 1917, and many of the Chinese who followed him had already gone further than he had in declaring their approval of the direction of events in Russia. Joffe had been sent over by the Russians that summer as ambassador, to see what he could do in the way of cementing friendship between the two countries, and in Peking he promised Russian aid if China should, under certain circumstances, desire it. Many people listened to his promises and made their plans accordingly. The Hongkong strike of 1922, combined with Joffe’s visit, was enough to make the most shortsighted of the “imperialist” tradesmen on the Coast become somewhat nervous of the Russian bogey.

  After his visit to the North, Joffe came to Shanghai in January, 1923, and there he saw and “cultivated” Sun Yat-sen. They soon reached an agreement as to policy, though at that time nothing was done save on a personal basis. Together they published a statement to the effect that Sun believed the Soviet system “cannot actually be introduced into China because there do not exist the conditions for the successful establishment of either communism or Sovietism. This view is entirely shared by Mr Joffe. . . . he has assured Dr Sun Yat-sen that China has the warmest sympathy of the Russian people and can count on the support of Russia.” The Russians moreover, Joffe said, were willing to give up their special privileges in China, inherited from Tsarist days, which accrued to “extra-territoriality.” It was a gesture that went straight to the hearts of a people who for years had been resenting the status of the foreigners trading within their boundaries. Sun’s sympathizers were overjoyed at this concrete proof that he was raising the country to a position of international dignity.

  Enemies of Sun had been grumbling that he was a tool of the Soviet and was now coming into the open with his Communist policy, which he had, they alleged, been pursuing in secret for many years. The statement made jointly with Joffe took the wind out of their sails: Sun had declared himself frankly, and his declaration proved that he was not nearly so extremely leftist as the critics had avowed. A wave of approval for himself and of friendship for Russia swept the Doctor to Canton yet again, the following month. Civil wars had gone round the old circle, war lords fell out, and Canton was leaderless. Sun took his opportunity. His third journey South was successful, ultimately, as the other two had never been.

  Ultimately. In the meantime he was up against the same old problems: uncertain power, threats from war lords and lack of money. Russia came to the rescue. To begin with, he was appointed “Generalissimo,” and there was no doubt that he was leader. Chiang Kai-shek, aided by military advisers from the Soviet, began to remodel the army, and the first time a war lord tried to dislodge the new Government they managed to beat him back. Then Borodin came from Russia to help the Party with reorganization, with advice, and most of all with funds. Once he had arrived, the affairs of the Kuomintang went more smoothly than they had ever done before. It was the real turning point of Sun’s career, though success came almost too late for the old warrior.

  Part of the vigor of this new regime was due to the number of bright young men with whom Sun surrounded himself. Chiang was becoming known as one of the Doctor’s hopes; he was sent to Moscow for a year to study Russian military methods, but even before this he attracted attention with his ability as a commander. He was still young as army officers went in the old Chinese fashion, but the Soviet people had introduced the cult of youth, and it fitted in well with the spirit of reform that permeated Canton.

  Another rising young man was Chingling’s brother, T.V. He had returned to China in 1917, but in all these politically troubled years he had worked in Shanghai as secretary and general adviser to a large coal company there. Now that the Nationalist Government had been formed in Canton, when they saw that they would need expert aid in the practical details of reorganization, they sent for T.V. and made him Director of the Department of Commerce. He was very good at his job, and later when he became General Manager of the Central Bank the most aggrieved protestants against the influence of the Soongs, the most jealous of commentators, were never able to complain that T.V. had not been a most happy choice.

  Madame Kung’s four children were born in rapid succession; David, Jeannette and Louis all first saw daylight in Shanghai. It was an easy journey between that city and Peking, though the times were troubled, and Eling often visited her mother, though her home was in Tientsin at this time. Since T.V. and Chingling were in Canton with Sun, Mayling divided her visits fairly equally between North and South.

  She thus found plenty of opportunity to contrast the milieus and to watch the rival governments at work — the seething excitement of the South, where all development, according to the optimistic Russians, was a thing of the future, and the old order in the North, which meant periods of stagnating calm interrupted now and then by civil war. It was an intensely interesting period. Only a Chinese family could have maintained a safe position in both camps, and only in China could Mayling have traveled about in this manner.

  It was in Shanghai, in Dr Sun’s house, that Chiang Kai-shek first saw her. He made up his mind very shortly that she was the girl he wanted to marry. He had divorced Miss Mao of Fenghua, and one day he informed Dr Sun of this.

  “I have no wife now. Teacher,” he said. “Do you think Miss Soong could be persuaded to accept me?”

  Dr Sun did not, but he consulted his wife. Chingling replied with some hea
t that she would rather see her little sister dead than married to a man who, if he was not married, should have been to at least one or two women in Canton. Gossip had been very busy with Chiang’s name.

  Sun Yat-sen did not bring back this unqualified refusal to Chiang, because he liked the younger man. “Wait a while,” he counseled, and Chiang understood, and waited.

  He was to bring the matter up twice more before Sun’s death, and each time he was told to wait. He did wait, for almost ten years.

  Chingling at this time was finding it necessary to watch the Doctor carefully, for his health was failing and he would not pause to take care of himself. He knew from hard experience how important any detail might be at this period, and he had never been very good at delegating duties to other people. Having worked alone so much of his life, he could not accustom himself to his position; he still carried out many duties in person, not because he did not trust his lieutenants, but because he was sure he could do these things better than anyone else.

  The picturesque General Morris Cohen, who was with him at this time, recalls an incident when he found himself, as he says, in an embarrassing quandary. It was the only time in his life that he was forced to disobey Sun Yat-sen. The Doctor had decided impulsively to go in person and interview a certain war lord whose intentions, he feared, were not strictly honorable. This man, though he kept making the conventional protests of love and loyalty, persisted in keeping his army within the city walls, embarrassingly close to the government headquarters. Sun wished to see him, to persuade him by sheer force of personality to remove his troops to the outskirts of the town. It was a dangerous mission, especially as he wanted to go alone. He ordered General Cohen to stay with Madame Sun in order to protect her if occasion should arise.