But to defend Ward against the charge of working for nefarious masters is unnecessary: He himself knew the nature of the “Rascally officials” who paid his troops and his bonuses and on at least one occasion acknowledged a temptation to “throw them all overboard.” In fact, if many observers are to be believed, Ward grew so dissatisfied with Manchu corruption, brutality, and ineptitude that he gave much thought to turning his army against the dynasty once the Taipings had been defeated and then reforming not only China’s military but its political system. Hayes stated that
[h]ad the operations in which [Ward] was engaged been completed, he would have been made a Prince of the Blood Royal, and Commander-in-Chief of the armies in China. There is no doubt that he had a well-defined and consuming ambition to bring this great empire into line with Eastern nations; and an officer of his staff, with whom I was well-acquainted, told me that if he had never before believed in the Divine direction of earthly affairs, he would have done so after he had seen in Ward’s death a direct interference from on high with a purpose carried on, and to be carried out, with fire and sword.
Ward’s methods were, however, more complicated than fire and sword, and more unique than the kind of religious and political zealotry that drove the Taiping rebellion. Ward succeeded on the battlefield, spread fear among his enemies, antagonized his superiors, and finally achieved some measure of lasting importance not because he was a committed idealist or a simple adventurer but because he was in every sense a free-lance—perhaps the purest example of that breed the modern world has produced. In Ward’s relatively untrained but keen mind everything was up for questioning: family and religion, the authority of superiors, military doctrines, governmental policies, even national loyalty itself. (It is well to remember that his transfer to Chinese citizenship was made without apparent philosophical difficulty, and, while he habitually signed himself “an honest American,” he also criticized his brother for becoming “excessively patriotic” during the American Civil War.) In every endeavor he undertook, Ward displayed this questioning, indeed challenging, attitude, which is such an essential component of the true free-lance. To his own father, to the pompous filibuster William Walker, to the president of Mexico, to his senior officers in the French army in the Crimea, to the Western authorities in Shanghai, and finally to his imperial Chinese superiors he was consistently, irrepressibly forthright and troublesome. The perceptive Prince Kung had indeed been right when he wrote of Ward: “His nature is basically unrestrained and his heart is even harder to fathom.” Ward was an aggressive realist, so determined to hold himself aloof from any person, group, cause, or nation that did not embody or share his own values and goals that it often seemed he would never cease his global wandering or form personal attachments of any real significance.
Yet in his attitude toward his wife, Chang-mei, toward China (as distinct from the Manchus), and toward the men of the Ever Victorious Army there is the distinct suggestion that something had finally touched Ward. Whether or not he actually intended to carve out a warlord domain or replace the Manchus with a native dynasty, there is about his actions and life in Sung-chiang the unmistakable sense that he was building toward a greater achievement than mere profit. Certainly his naive and even foolish management of his own business affairs prevents Ward’s dismissal as a mere mercenary. Rather, his Chinese career suggests a systematic attempt to construct an order in Sung-chiang and around the Ever Victorious Army that would finally embody a military and political style of which he himself would have approved. That style was based on a simple notion: decent treatment of “his people.” If his attempts to achieve this—and, on a larger scale, to propel China toward new methods of fighting and perhaps even governing—were piecemeal, ingenuous, and ultimately ill-fated, they were nonetheless worthy of greater tribute than an empty grave in America, a ransacked grave in China, and the invective of ideologues, against whom Ward always fought with such brilliant determination.
CAST OF CHARACTERS
AMERICAN
Frederick Townsend Ward, American sailing officer and soldier of fortune born in Salem, Massachusetts. In the first twenty-nine years of his life, Ward traveled the world extensively on merchant vessels (making several trips to China) and participated in military campaigns in Mexico and the Crimea before contracting with the imperial Chinese government to undertake the defense of Shanghai against the Taiping rebels in 1860. Starting with foreign mercenaries, Ward later employed Western officers to train Chinese soldiers to use the most modern weapons and tactics. The force he organized along these lines was eventually named the Ever Victorious Army by the imperialist Chinese, but his troops were known as “the devil soldiers” among the rebels.
Henry Gamaliel Ward, called Harry, Frederick’s brother. A shipping merchant, who often acted as agent for arms purchases for his brother’s Chinese army.
Elizabeth Ward, Frederick’s sister and principal correspondent, who kept his letters carefully preserved until her death. These invaluable documents were subsequently destroyed by a group of relatives headed by Harry Ward’s widow.
Henry Andrea Burgevine, of North Carolina. Frederick Ward’s second-in-command. An effective officer with a weakness for alcohol, Burgevine was invaluable in many battles against the rebels, but he eventually became the tragic victim of his own emotional instability.
Edward Forester, third in the line of command of the Ever Victorious Army. An accomplished linguist and efficient officer, Forester also played a vital role in the army’s campaigns, although he revealed a troubling and puzzling tendency toward self-glorification and denigration of his commander’s achievements following Ward’s death.
Charles Schmidt, an American soldier of fortune who first met Ward in South America in the early 1850s and wrote several eyewitness accounts of his service with Ward in China.
Dr. Daniel Jerome Macgowan, an American Baptist missionary and physician who doubled as a correspondent for several English-language publications in China. Macgowan wrote the first relatively complete account of Ward’s exploits, remarkable (given the conflicting sources and reports he had to contend with) for its insight and accuracy.
Anson Burlingame, American minister to China who arrived in Shanghai in 1862. Destined to become a trusted friend and servant of the imperial Chinese government, Burlingame quickly developed an attachment to Ward and his officers and often pleaded their case before officials in both Peking and Washington.
Augustus A. Hayes, a junior partner for one of Shanghai’s larger Western trading firms and a fellow New Englander who knew Ward well during his years of imperial service. Hayes wrote two important magazine pieces as well as private memoranda concerning Ward.
BRITISH
Admiral James Hope, commander of British naval forces in China. Known to his men as Fighting Jimmie, Hope was bellicose and singularly confident. After the Allied march on Peking in 1860, he became a fixture in Shanghai. He headed two missions to negotiate with the Taiping leaders in Nanking for safety of trade on the Yangtze and initially did his best to stop the activities of adventurers such as Ward. Eventually, though, Hope’s hostility toward the rebels, as well as strong similarities of character, made him and Ward friends and allies.
Frederick Bruce, British minister to China during the period of Ward’s operations. Dedicated and capable, Bruce nonetheless embodied the contradictory commitments—to neutrality in the Chinese civil war and active protection of British trading rights—that characterized many British officials. Bruce initially opposed Ward, but impatience with Peking and disgust with the Taipings gradually changed his attitude.
General Sir John Michel, commander of British army forces in China until early 1862. A gifted commander with a real understanding of unconventional warfare, Michel appreciated the work Ward had undertaken, and saw in it the chance for China’s military regeneration. Before leaving China he recommended that heavy assistance be given Ward by the British government.
General Sir Charles Staveley, Michel?
??s successor, a capable but arrogant officer with none of Michel’s appreciation for Ward. Staveley believed that the British should be responsible for training Chinese troops and that Ward was little more than a rogue and an outlaw.
Captain Roderick Dew, one of Admiral Hope’s subordinates who, like Hope, initially tried to stop Ward’s activities but ended up becoming the young American’s friend. Responsible for the unauthorized seizure of Ningpo from the Taipings in 1862, Dew was acting in conjunction with Ward in the Ningpo area when Ward was killed.
Thomas Taylor Meadows, a noted sinologist and Taiping sympathizer who was British consul in Shanghai at the time of Ward’s early operations, which he strongly opposed.
Walter Medhurst, Meadows’s successor, who, while opposed to the activities of adventurers, gradually became less troublesome to Ward as the official position of his government regarding the Ever Victorious Army changed.
Chaloner Alabaster, British consular official and interpreter in Shanghai. Brave and outspoken, Alabaster served as an observer at many of the battles involving joint actions between Ward’s troops and British regulars, leaving several important accounts of them.
Augustus F. Lindley, a British sailing officer who, at the time of Ward’s arrival in Shanghai, traveled up the Yangtze to gain firsthand knowledge of the Taiping movement. Liking what he saw, and eventually marrying a Portuguese girl in a Taiping ceremony, Lindley ran guns to the rebels and trained their soldiers in tactics and the use of modern weapons. On returning to England, he wrote a bitter account of the end of the Taiping rebellion and of the part the British and Ward had played in suppressing it.
Captain Charles George Gordon, General Staveley’s young brother-in-law and chief of engineers. Destined to become one of Victorian England’s greatest heroes, Gordon was emotionally complex but professionally brilliant, capable of absorbing important lessons from his early experiences in China (and especially from his observations of Ward in action). He put these lessons to good use during his tenure as Ward’s most illustrious successor in command of the Ever Victorious Army.
FRENCH
Vice Admiral August Leopold-Protet, commander of French naval forces in China. Like Admiral Hope and General Michel, Protet was a personable and aggressive officer, with appreciable experience fighting unconventional wars. He played a key role in support of Ward’s troops during the early months of 1862, and his death during an action against the Taipings caused his troops to engage in deplorable acts of vengeance.
Adrien Tardif de Moidrey, a French officer who may have originated the idea of using Western officers to train Chinese soldiers. During the winter of 1860-61 he met Ward and Burgevine, and out of these meetings came the idea not only for the Ever Victorious Army but for the Franco-Chinese Corps of Kiangsu, Tardif de Moidrey’s small but potent force of Chinese artillerymen.
Prosper Giquel, a young French officer and the head of the Ningpo office of the Imperial Chinese Customs Service, which was operated for Peking by capable Westerners. Giquel was another careful observer of Ward’s activities, which he emulated in Chekiang province by creating what became known as the Ever Triumphant Army.
Albert Edouard Le Brethon de Caligny, cofounder and battlefield leader of the Ever Triumphant Army, who played a vital role in countering Taiping moves in the Ningpo area in early 1862.
CHINESE
Hsien-feng, emperor of China during the early period of Ward’s operations. A dissipated hedonist, Hsien-feng was controlled by reactionary advisers, most of whom favored a disastrous policy of simultaneously fighting the Taiping rebels and abusing Western representatives. His death in 1861 left imperial governmental matters in immense disarray.
Yehonala (the Empress Dowager Tz’u-hsi), Hsien-feng’s favorite concubine and the mother of his son. Shrewd and manipulative, Yehonala initially favored berating and lying to Western representatives, but she eventually came to see that such a policy would have to take a secondary role—at least temporarily—to the defeat of the Taipings. After Hsien-feng’s death, she emerged as controlling regent for their young son, T’ung-chih.
Prince Kung, Hsien-feng’s half brother and the most capable statesman in Peking at the time. After Hsien-feng’s death Kung served Yehonala and T’ung-chih well by realizing that rather than berating Westerners the Chinese should make treaties with them and then hold the Westerners to the terms of the treaties, thus limiting their aggressions. He established the suppression of the Taiping rebellion as the imperial government’s first goal. Though he distrusted foreign adventurers such as Ward, Kung, like Tz’u-hsi, became willing to make use of them.
Tseng Kuo-fan, the brilliant Chinese bureaucrat and military leader who organized the progressive Hunan Army to fight the Taipings and became the architect of China’s “self-strengthening movement.” By reemphasizing Confucian values and dealing with the rebels in an uncompromising fashion, Tseng became the first imperial leader to check and then turn back the advancing Taiping wave. But, because he was so grounded in antiquated Chinese tradition, Tseng’s determined attempts at military and political reform ultimately amounted to relatively little. Opposed to any foreign involvement in the Chinese civil war, Tseng distrusted Ward but understood that his own strategy of crushing the Taipings at Nanking with two mighty pincers—one moving from the east and one from the west—might not work without the participation of the Ever Victorious Army.
Li Hung-chang, Tseng’s most accomplished student and lieutenant. Destined to become nineteenth-century China’s most famous statesman, Li shared all his tutor’s brilliance but little of his scrupulous honesty. Appointed governor of Kiangsu province by Tseng in 1862, Li was brought into close contact with Ward, whom he admired, if cautiously. The two cooperated in a series of crucial actions against the rebels in 1862, and it was Li who broached to Tseng the idea of Ward’s playing a part in an eventual attack on Nanking.
Hsüeh Huan, governor of Kiangsu at the time of Ward’s arrival in Shanghai. Hsüeh gave initial approval to the idea of Ward’s force, although he did not admit to this approval until the army had demonstrated success. By then, however, his own military incompetence had been revealed, and he subsequently tried to salvage his reputation by discrediting Ward.
Wu Hsü, taotai, or circuit intendant, of Shanghai and Ward’s initial employer. A master of all the forms of corruption that made the Chinese bureaucracy function, Wu was reluctant to reveal publicly his sponsorship of Ward until the latter had proved himself. Though deeply impressed by and fond of the young American, Wu felt no compunction about turning his back on Ward when tact demanded doing so.
Yang Fang, also known as Taki because he headed a financial firm of that name. Wu Hsü’s partner in a variety of official and unofficial undertakings, Yang was the crafty veteran of decades of dealing with foreigners. He took an immediate liking to Ward and worked hard to raise the money that would supply Ward’s men and pay their salaries. Yang and Ward’s relationship became legendary in Shanghai and was sealed in 1862 when Ward married Yang’s daughter.
Yang Chang-mei, Yang Fang’s daughter, twenty-one at the time of her marriage to Ward. Healthy, attractive, and the child of a wealthy family, Chang-mei was nonetheless regarded as bad luck by most Chinese because her first fiancé had died. She survived Ward by just one year; the only known explanation for her death is “extreme grief.”
Hung Hsiu-ch’üan, a peasant whose humiliation at being unable to enter the only path to social advancement open to him—the imperial civil service—led him to illness and madness. Believing himself to be the younger brother of Jesus Christ, Hung organized a band of quasi-Christian followers and set in motion the most savage civil war in world history, the Taiping rebellion (1850-1864), during which somewhere between 20 and 40 million people died.
Li Hsiu-Ch’eng (also known as the Chung Wang, or “Loyal King”), Hung Hsiu-ch’üan’s most talented general. In the Taiping rebellion’s later years, as Hung withdrew into a world of debauchery and mysticism and his advisers
battled among themselves, Li kept the movement alive through a series of brilliant campaigns against the imperialists. His last and most crucial assignment was to seize Shanghai and its rich trade. Had he succeeded, the movement would have gained extended life. The attempt brought him into direct conflict with Ward’s Ever Victorious Army.
This book is dedicated to Simon Carr, Ethan Carr,
C. Daniel Way Schoonover, and David H. Johnson:
“And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered—
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers.”
—Shakespeare, Henry V
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Richard J. Smith of Rice University made this book a practical proposition, not only through his years of groundbreaking research in the field but by generously making his materials and insights available to me at all times. He is a scholar in every sense of the word, and has my heartfelt thanks and respect.
Beatrice Bartlett of Yale University helped me with translation and research at Sterling Library. John K. Fairbank of Harvard University took the time to read the manuscript, for which I am indebted. Needless to say, any errors or misinterpretations that occur in these pages are mine and have nothing to do with any of the above-mentioned distinguished experts.
A talented and warmhearted group of scholars in Shanghai helped me solve (insofar as it is solved) the riddle of what happened to Ward’s memorial hall, as well as his grave and remains, after the Communist revolution. Understandably, they do not wish their names mentioned; but they know who they are, and I hope they take satisfaction from knowing that they made an immense contribution to this work.