‘If I persuade Peng to surrender I will be giving him my solemn word that he and his men will not be harmed in any way.’
‘So? Is your word more sacred than the promise of a Viceroy of Imperial China?’
So indignant was the Viceroy that Kernow thought he must have misjudged him. After all, Li Chau had only recently been appointed to his position. He was not yet used to taking such decisions.
‘I will go to Yaugang to await the surrender of Peng Yu-cheng and his men. He will come to me there and sign a declaration that he is willing to serve the Emperor.’
Yaugang was a small and ancient walled town some four or five miles along the coast from Ning Po.
Without a word of farewell, Li Chau waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal and Kernow was escorted from the Viceregal presence.
Chapter 40
NEWS THAT LI CHAU had accepted Peng Yu-cheng’s surrender was conveyed to the Taiping leader inside Ning Po by the second senior Tartar officer serving with the Chinese army. After discussions between the two, Peng agreed to evacuate the sea port town at noon the following day.
Kernow was not there to oversee the departure of the Taiping rebel leader and his men. He had returned from his meeting with Li Chau to find a fleet of British warships lying at anchor off Ning Po. On board the flagship was Sir Frederick Bruce who, in addition to being the brother of Lord Elgin, was the current British ambassador in Peking.
The arrival of the warships at the time of a possible battle for the possession of Ning Po was no coincidence. There were British interests to be protected in the treaty port – and Bruce also wanted to speak to Kernow.
A message was waiting at the Tartar headquarters for him to repair on board the flagship immediately.
Kernow knew that such a peremptory message boded ill. Bruce did not want him on board the flagship to congratulate him on the victories he had gained fighting with the Tartars. Kernow delayed obeying the summons until he had seen Peng and his men march from Ning Po unmolested by the Tartar soldiers. Then he hired a fisherman to take him out to the anchored warships in a tardy response to the British ambassador’s call.
The twenty-four-hour wait had done nothing to improve Bruce’s temper. As soon as Kernow stepped on board he was hurried to the admiral’s cabin where Sir Frederick Bruce and Admiral Sir James Hope were present with a number of other senior officers.
Only Admiral Hope offered him a greeting and this was so uncharacteristically subdued that Kernow knew he was in trouble.
‘Major Keats, I summoned you yesterday, leaving a message that you were to report to me immediately you returned to the Tartar camp. Am I to understand you returned there only today?’
‘No, Sir Frederick. I came back yesterday, but I have been arranging the surrender of the Taiping garrison in Ning Po. I wished to see it through.’
It was quite apparent to Kernow that his words had taken everyone in the room by surprise. Admiral Hope’s face broke into a delighted smile.
‘You’ve done what?’
‘I met with the Taiping leader some days ago and worked out terms for his surrender. Then I travelled to see the new Viceroy for Chekiang Province and persuaded him to accept the terms. I have just watched the Taiping rebels march out of the town, leaving their arms behind.’
‘What right have you, a British Royal Marine officer, to interfere in the war between China and the Taiping rebels? It is an internal matter, not one to involve British citizens – especially those wearing the Queen’s uniform.’
Kernow was puzzled by the ambassador’s anger and stung by his line of questioning. ‘I was asked by General Grant to accept secondment to the Imperial Chinese army. It was an arrangement that met with Lord Elgin’s approval.’
‘The arrangement was for you to accept attachment to the Chinese army in a training role. It was not intended you should become involved in their battles. Do you deny you have fought against the Taipings on behalf of the Chinese?’
‘I deny nothing. The commander of the Tartar army in this area is a friend. He was in danger of losing his life at the hands of the Taipings. I took my training regiment to his rescue.’
‘And you have continued to play an active role in the war between the two sides, I believe?’
‘I travelled with General Shalonga to Ning Po, yes,’ Kernow prevaricated.
‘Ah!’ Frederick Bruce looked from Kernow to Admiral Hope triumphantly. ‘Do you realise, Major Keats, that by your actions you could have placed the lives of every European in Ning Po in jeopardy?’
‘On the contrary, Sir Frederick. By arranging for the surrender of the Taipings I have undoubtedly resolved a very dangerous situation. Not that they would have come to any harm at the hands of the Taiping commander. I know him for an honourable man. The danger would have come during a battle for possession of the town. I have removed that danger.’
‘Nevertheless,’ Sir Frederick Bruce persisted doggedly, ‘in my opinion you have far exceeded any orders given you by General Grant. I have very strong views about British nationals becoming involved in any dispute of this nature. It is essential that we not only remain neutral, but are seen to be neutral.’
‘I trust you were able to explain this to the satisfaction of the Taipings who were driven back from Shanghai by British and French troops manning the walls of the city, Sir Frederick?’
‘That is an impertinent remark, Major Keats. Whatever happened at Shanghai has no bearing on the matter in hand.’
Turning to Admiral Hope, the ambassador said, ‘Sir James, you are the commander-in-chief of the Far East Station. I strongly recommend that in order to avoid future censure you relieve this officer of his duties immediately. I also recommend that steps be taken to return him to England at the first possible opportunity.’
Admiral Sir James Hope appeared shocked. ‘With all due respect, Sir Frederick, this young man has served his country well during long service in China. To send him home in disgrace would be grossly unfair.’
‘As I said, Sir James, I strongly recommend that you act upon my advice. Whether or not you do is entirely up to you. I will show you a copy of my report before it is despatched.’
‘Then I shall also be forced to place on record my protest at your unduly harsh recommendation. In my view it goes against all the known facts. I will send a copy to Lord Elgin who has first-hand experience of Major Keats’ value to the service of his country. With all due respect, Sir Frederick, you cannot say the same.’
‘Please don’t jeopardise your future career for my sake, Sir James. I am on half pay at present, so I can’t be removed from active duties, and I have no wish to return to full service. I will put my resignation in writing. In the meantime you have sufficient witnesses here to verify my stated intentions….’
At that moment there came an urgent knocking at the door. It opened to admit the officer-of-the-watch. Addressing the admiral, he said, ‘Begging your pardon, sir, I think you should come up on deck. There appears to be something happening along the coast at Yaugang. There’s a whole lot of shooting and what sounds like screaming.’
There was a swift exodus from the admiral’s cabin but while the other officers hurried aft to the quarter-deck to listen to the sounds coming from Yaugang, Kernow hurried to the boom where the duty boat was manned.
‘Coxswain! Take me ashore to Ning Po – and be quick about it.’
The coxswain hesitated. ‘Begging your pardon, sir, but are you one of our officers?’
‘Damn you, man! Do you want to lose your rank? This is an emergency. Can’t you hear the shooting on shore? Get me to Ning Po immediately or you’ll be in irons for the rest of your Far Eastern service.’
The coxswain was used to the threats of officers – but this one sounded deadly serious. Moments later the ship’s boat had been cast off and the coxswain was berating his men for not pulling harder towards the shore.
Kernow found the Tartar camp in a state of confusion. They had heard firing coming from the dir
ection of Yaugang, but without Kernow to direct them they were not sure what they should do.
They were restraining Kau-lin too. When she had first heard the sound of shooting coming from Yaugang she had tried to seize a Tartar pony to ride off and learn what was happening. When she saw Kernow she screamed at him, ‘You’ve sent my brother to his death. The Viceroy has killed him.’
Ordering that she be detained until he returned, Kernow gathered at least half the Tartar army behind him and galloped to Yaugang.
The sounds became frighteningly louder as they drew closer, but the gates in the high wall were closed against them.
Kernow called upon the men inside to open the gate, but there was no response. Not until he ordered the Tartars to fire a volley at the gate did a town official appear on the battlements above the gate. Kernow called to him, demanding to know what was happening inside.
Kernow repeated the question three times before the decidedly nervous official replied, ‘It is said the Taiping prisoners tried to seize the weapons from their guards. They were overpowered and are now being executed.’
‘Those men surrendered because I gave my word they would not be harmed. They are my prisoners. I demand you open this gate immediately.’
The official disappeared hurriedly from the wall and ten minutes later his place was taken by an officer of one of the Imperial bannermen regiments.
‘What is it you want, Fan Qui?’
‘Where is Viceroy Li Chau? I demand that the Taiping prisoners be released immediately.’
‘You demand! I fear you have taken leave of your senses, Fan Qui. Remain there and observe. You will soon be able to pick out the heads of those you seek among the crop to be planted above the gate.’
‘If you don’t open the gate I will bring up cannon and blow the gate open.’
It was an idle threat. The Tartars were cavalrymen. They possessed no cannon. It seemed the officer on the wall was aware of this too.
‘Go and fetch your cannon, Fan Qui, but I doubt if it can match this.’
There was a loud report from the ramparts of the wall and a cannon ball carved a path through the Tartar cavalry, knocking horses and riders to the ground.
There was a roar of anger from the Tartars, but Kernow knew the Viceroy would not be influenced by the anger of horse-warriors from the Vietnamese border region.
He waved the men back from the gate, out of range of the cannon. Leaving a thousand men to picket the gate, he rode back to the main camp with the Tartars who carried their wounded men with them.
Chapter 41
WHEN SHALONGA RETURNED to the Tartar camp a week later the siege of Yaugang was still being maintained. The Tartar general was in a mood of deep sorrow. His father had died within hours of Shalonga’s arrival. Despite his grief, he listened to the story of Li Chau’s treachery with growing anger.
‘It is no more than one would expect from a man of his clan,’ said the Tartar chief. ‘Come, we will find Li Chau.’
‘I doubt if he’ll speak to you,’ said Kernow. ‘He’s not showed his face on the walls since the Taiping prisoners were executed.’
‘He will open the gates to me, or within a week he will be on his knees, begging the executioner for mercy. Come.’
At the gates of Yaugang, Shalonga refused to speak to anyone but the Viceroy, insisting that he come to the wall above the gate. Much to Kernow’s surprise, within fifteen minutes of their arrival the yellow-robed Viceroy stood on the walls above them.
‘Open the gate, Li Chau.’
‘A Viceroy does not take orders from the son of a war lord, no matter how exalted that war lord may be.’
‘My father is dead, Li Chau. I am the war lord now. The remainder of my army will be here by tomorrow night. We will then be fifty thousand strong. We may not have cannon, but we can obtain gunpowder from other towns. If it is necessary to blow down the doors of Yaugang I will allow my men to sack the town. Your execution of the Taiping prisoners will be as nothing compared to what my men will do. Tell me, Li Chau, are your family with you? I trust they are well….’
In another fifteen minutes the gates of the small town of Yaugang swung open. When Kernow, Shalonga and the soldiers of the Tartar army passed through the gate into the streets, there was not an occupant to be seen.
Shalonga gave orders for his men to commence a search. They eventually found a house in which almost a hundred surviving Taiping rebels were being held prisoner.
They were brought to the garden of the magistrate’s house where Shalonga, Kernow and Li Chau sat in silence.
Choosing one of the Taipings who appeared to have some authority, Shalonga asked, ‘What happened?’
The Taiping was frightened but defiant. ‘We came in to Yaugang because the Fan Qui had promised Commandant Peng we would be safe. Suddenly we were rounded up and the executions began.’
‘Li Chau has said you tried to seize guns from his soldiers.’
‘There was no uprising. Why should there be? We had been promised our freedom.’
‘What of Peng Yu-cheng?’ Kernow put the question.
‘He was beheaded because he refused to sign a “confession”.’
‘Very well,’ Shalonga nodded to the man. ‘You have told us what we wished to hear. You and your men are free to go.’
The Viceroy’s protests were cut short by Shalonga. ‘Do not tempt me to separate the evil that is in your heart from the lies that come from your mouth, Li Chau. By your treachery you have brought dishonour upon the Dowager Empress’s name. She is slow to forgive matters of honour.’
‘You overstep your own authority, Shalonga. You will hear more of this.’
‘You will need to send your messages a long way, Viceroy. Now my father is dead I have no stomach to stay in provinces ruled by men like you. My soldiers have been away from their homes for too long. I am taking them home. Come, Englishman. We will leave Yaugang to the dead and those like Li Chau who feed on carrion.’
Escorted by ten thousand Tartars the two men were safe from any treachery Viceroy Li Chau might plan. Soon the other forty thousand Tartar warriors would arrive. There was not an army in the whole of China would dare oppose them.
‘What will you do now, Englishman, you and your She-she? I fancy you have no further stomach for the Imperial cause. Will you return to your own armies?’
‘I am no longer part of either the army or the navy of my country. I was called before the British ambassador soon after you departed from your camp. I have resigned my commission.’
‘Why?’ Shalonga looked at Kernow sharply.
‘Because I led the men of the training regiment into battle. It doesn’t matter. I have no wish to fight for the Chinese any longer.’
‘Nor I. The Dowager Empress came to the royal household from a clan that does not look favourably upon me and mine. It is best that I return to the border country. There I can raise four times as many fighting men as my father brought to fight the Taipings. I will be safe from the treachery of the court there.’
Kernow spent a week at Shalonga’s camp. It was an unexpectedly relaxed period. He enjoyed the company of She-she and they both tried hard not to think of what the future held for them. Kau-lin remained here too, mourning her brother, and spending most of her time with Esme in the quarters of the women.
One evening, as the camp was preparing itself for the long march home, Shalonga called a meeting of his leaders. It was late in the night when Kernow was summoned from the house he shared with She-she. He was told she must come with him to the meeting too.
Arriving at Shalonga’s huge headquarters tent, Kernow and She-she walked in to find the officers of the war lord’s army seated in a circle around their leader. They were a ferocious-looking group of men, tough fighting warriors with a fierce pride in their prowess.
Shalonga looked tired, but smiled up at them as he addressed his words to Kernow. ‘I have done much thinking since my return, Englishman. Before I could put my thoughts into words for yo
u I needed to be confirmed as war lord in my father’s place by all those who served him. It is now done. I am truly war lord of the Vietnamese border lands and as such I put my wishes to them.
‘You have saved my life and the lives of many men here. Your actions found disfavour with your own people and you have sacrificed your future for us.
‘I offer you a new future among our people. You will be given your own lands.’ Shalonga smiled. ‘More than your own ungrateful country would give you. As much as the country you call Wales. There you would be emperor, king, war lord … you may call yourself what you will. All I ask in return is your loyalty and your assistance should someone be foolish enough to wage war against me. I will do the same for you, should you make enemies.
‘It will mean breaking with your own country, your own people, but it will not be without compensations, I think. You will have your She-she and be able to live in a community who will accept you both as their rulers and your sons as your heirs. Indeed, you will be passing on an inheritance that would be impossible in your own country.’
Shalonga was silent for some time but when Kernow looked at his face he realised how much it meant to Shalonga to have him accept his offer.
If Kernow had any doubts about what he should do, one glance at She-she was enough to drive away the last vestige of hesitation. She looked as though she might burst with the joy she felt.
Reaching out, he gripped Shalonga’s hand. ‘I thank you, my very good friend. I thank you from the bottom of my heart. When do we go home?’
Epilogue
THE GREAT ARMY of Shalonga swiftly disappeared in the vastness of China. They were going home. To the mountainous country where China and Vietnam merged.
The Taiping rebellion pursued an increasingly erratic course until it came to an end in 1864. The Tien Wang’s abortive bid to bring ‘Christianity’ to China had failed, at a cost to the country of twenty million lives.
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