Kehidupan Yakoob Beg/Bab 12
CHAPTER XII
YAKOOB BEG'S LAST WAR WITH CHINA, AND DEATH.
Until the close of the autumn of 1876 Yakoob Beg had not devoted much personal attention to his eastern frontier. After the first Tungan war and the capture of Kucha he had confided to his son and his lieutenants, the charge of maintaining order in the annexed districts, and of protecting his dominions against any hostile attempt on the part of the Chinese. About the month of September in that year couriers arrived with strange tidings in Kashgar. The message, we can well imagine, was terrible in its brevity. The Chinese had appeared north of the Tian Shan. They had sacked Urumtsi, and were laving close siege to Manas. Their numbers rumour had magnified to almost a hundred thousand combatants, and they came armed with all the auxiliaries Western science could supply.
Before following the movements of the ruler of Kashgar upon the receipt of this intelligence, it will be necessary to consider what had been the history of this Chinese army which had so suddenly appeared in Jungaria. When in the natural course of events the Chinese government, having solved the Taeping and Panthay difficulties, having restored order where disorder had been supreme, and having created an army where there had been only a disorganized rabble, turned its attention to the question, which it had never lost sight of, of chastising the Tungan rebels beyond Kansuh, the victorious soldiers of Yunnan, instead of being disbanded, were invited to participate in a fresh campaign [Pg 237] in the regions beyond Gobi. It requires no great stretch of imagination to realize the scene when the imperial edict came before these veterans, calling on all true soldiers to vindicate their country's honour and their outraged religion against the Tungan outcasts; how the generals, such as Chang Yao, set an example of enthusiasm which the main body of their soldiers speedily followed. In the presence of such military enthusiasm we are transported back to the days of imperial Rome, when the subjection of one province was only the prelude to some fresh triumph, and when every campaign found in the ranks of the army the veterans of the last. So it was that the victors of Talifoo, by long marches through Szchuen and Shensi, reached Lanchefoo, the capital of Kansuh, where the viceroy of that province was gathering together the munitions of war, and the recruits who were to swell the nucleus of trained soldiers to the proportions suitable to an invading army. Some have considered, and we are far from denying that there is much to support such a view, that there was a political motive at the root of this enterprise, the motive being a desire on the part of the ruling family to give employment to a large disciplined body of men, who if retained in China proper would be at the service of any powerful conspirator or presumptuous aspirant to imperial honours. Whether there is any foundation or not for this supposition, it is certain that those troops who were not required for garrison work in Yunnan were taken by a round-about route at a great distance from the capital to the north-west frontier town of Lanchefoo, there to prepare for the most arduous military enterprise China had undertaken since her conquest of Eastern Turkestan in the last century.
It is not certain when these movements began to be carried out, but there appears to be no reason to doubt that the advanced portion of the Chinese army had commenced its march westward before the end of the year [Pg 238] 1874. In the barren region between Lanchefoo and Hamil, a tract of country some 900 miles as the crow flies, but probably nearer 1,200 by the road followed by the Chinese, such difficulties were encountered that one if not two winters were occupied in overcoming these preliminary obstacles to the advance of the main force. The interval was not passed in complete idleness at headquarters, where magazines of arms and stores were being collected, recruits enlisted and drilled, and the plan of campaign that was to astonish Asia, if not Europe also, was being drawn up by the Viceroy of Kansuh in person and his able lieutenants. At last, with the break of spring upon the desert plains of Gobi, the Chinese army, which numbered in its entirety some 50,000 men, set out on the long road across the desert to the more fertile regions lying north and south of the Celestial Mountains. Of the details of this portion of the enterprise the Pekin Gazette is strangely reticent. The most profound secrecy was observed, and, although it was known that military events were in progress in the north-west, their object and their extent were mysteries. After the delay experienced by the advanced guard, which had to form fixed encampments, or rather settlements, in the desert, and plant the corn that was to enable it to advance in the following spring, no serious check was experienced by the Chinese until they appeared before the walls of Urumtsi, which the Tungan leaders had resolved to defend.
Although several officers in the service of Yakoob Beg happened to be in the city, and several of the leading Tungani resided there, the defence was not prolonged, and after a few days Urumtsi surrendered to the Chinese. Many of the inhabitants had fled to the neighbouring city of Manas, but the garrison was massacred by order of the Chinese generals. There is no mention in this case of what fate befell those of the inhabitants who remained.
Urumtsi surrendered towards the close of August, [Pg 239] 1876, and on the 2nd of September the Chinese sat down before the fortifications of Manas, a much more strongly situated city, and defended with the whole force of the Tungan people. The first panic at the appearance of the Chinese had passed off, and the defenders of Manas recognized that they were not only fighting for their cause and independence, but also for their lives and the honour of their families. The terrible lesson of Urumtsi was not without its effect upon the resolute but despairing garrison of Manas. The capture of Urumtsi was a creditable performance in a military sense, but the campaign had to be decided before the ramparts of Manas. On the 2nd of September the Chinese batteries commenced to play on the north-east portion of the wall, and for two months the bombardment was carried on on all sides with more or less vigour. Several assaults were repulsed, and the Tungani, in face of superior odds and weapons, had behaved like brave men. But the Chinese were as persistent in their attack after an eight weeks' siege as they had been on the first day of their arrival, and the provisions of the Tungani were almost exhausted. With their supplies ebbed also their courage, and, after an unsuccessful sortie, the Tungan general, Hai-Yen, presented himself to the Chinese outposts begging to be accorded an honourable capitulation. Ostensibly, terms were granted—or, rather, to put the matter as it is expressed in the official Chinese report, everything was left vague—and on the 6th of November Hai-Yen and the main body of his fighting men came forth from the city towards the Chinese camp. The subsequent events are not clear, but it seems that the attitude of this body was suspicious. The men were armed, they were in a well-ordered phalanx, and to the Chinese on the hills around it looked as if they were about to attempt to cut their way through. Once the Chinese generals entertained the suspicion, they proceeded to act promptly upon it, as if it were an incontestable fact, and the Tungani, attacked from all sides, by artillery, [Pg 240] horse, and foot, were in a short time annihilated. Such of their chiefs as were not slain were brought before the Chinese generals, and forthwith executed "with the extreme of torture." Every able-bodied man found in the city or its vicinity was massacred; but the report distinctly states that the women, children, and old men were spared, and there is no reason to doubt the veracity of the Chinese. There would, in their eyes, be no need to palliate such strictly just acts of retribution as these.
Not content with having chastised the living Tungani, by annihilating them, as a race capable of self-defence for a generation to come, the bodies of some of the prime movers in the Tungan movement in its infancy, such as To-teh-lin, Heh-tsun, and Han-Hing-Nung, were exhumed and quartered, as an example to all traitors to the Chinese Empire. The fall of Manas struck a blow that resounded throughout Central Asia, and at the intelligence a panic spread among all the peoples of Chinese Turkestan and Jungaria. The enterprise had been conducted with such astonishing secrecy, and the blow had been struck with such rapidity and skill, that the effect was enhanced by these causes, new alike in the annals of China and Central Asia. Not only had the Khitay returned for revenge, but they had brought with them all the auxiliaries that make England and Russia the dominant powers in that continent. The Khitay no longer advanced in the clumsy formation of a long-forgotten age, but in obedience to orders based on the models of France and Germany. Their artillery was not a source of danger to the artillerists alone, but as effective as the workshops of Herr Krupp can supply. But, above all, their generals had made still more astonishing progress. In the sieges of Urumtsi and Manas they had proved themselves to be no mean tacticians; in their next and more extended enterprise they were to show that they must be ranked still higher as strategists.
Before the end of 1870 the Tungani had ceased to be [Pg 241] an independent people. The great majority of them had fallen either in the field or by the hand of the executioner; and with their disappearance the first portion of the task of the Chinese army was completed. The blood of the Khitay massacred in 1862 and 1863 was atoned for, and Chinese prestige restored to as great a height as at any time it had been in the present century. More remained to be accomplished, in its danger as in its result more important, which we have now to consider, before their full task should be consummated; but the Chinese army and its generals had done, even up to this point, a feat of which any country might be proud.
These events appear sudden and strange to us who are far removed from their influence, and who only entertain a languid kind of supercilious interest in matters in which the Chinese are the guiding spirit. But what must they have appeared to Yakoob Beg in his palace at Kashgar, although that palace was 1,000 miles removed from the spot where his victorious enemies lay encamped? It is impossible for us to gauge the feeling of apprehension with which these first triumphs of the Chinese were viewed throughout Eastern Turkestan; and if the bold heart of the Athalik Ghazi did not misgive him, it was not through any light spirit as to the gravity of the danger.
Intelligence of the fall of Manas reached Yakoob Beg, probably, before the end of November, and in consequence of the lateness of the season he had the whole of the winter before him to make his preparations for defence. The surrender of these cities was not generally known in this country until April, 1877, when we also heard of Yakoob Beg's march eastward to protect his menaced frontier. There is very little to be learnt of the internal affairs of Kashgar between March, 1876, and March, 1877; that is to say, between the close of the revolt in Khokand, with the surrender of Abderrahman Aftobatcha, and the mustering of [Pg 242] Yakoob Beg's army round the city of Turfan, or Tarfur. There can be no doubt that in that period some important changes had taken place in the sentiment of the Kashgarian people; these changes may not have been very perceptible to a casual observer, yet in their consequences they were as important as manifest sedition. It is not difficult to suggest what some of these modifications may have been; of what they resulted in there can be no doubt—the weakening of the power of the Athalik Ghazi.
Yakoob Beg's over-caution in November, 1875, when the last rising broke out in Khokand, damaged his prestige more than a lost battle. It damped the ardour of the Khokandian element among his followers, and when we remember that these were his ablest and most devoted partisans, this alone was a serious blow. But there are many tokens that the disaffection was not confined to any special party among his people, but was spread amongst them all. The Tungan wars had never been popular, and had been costly and sanguinary operations. The old trade with Russian territory, that once had been so lucrative, languished for want of a fostering hand, and the difficulties of that northern range of mountains, which the patience and care of the Chinese had for a time pierced through, were made the most of to prevent intercourse with Kuldja and Vernoe. More than all, too, all Yakoob Beg's skill as a "manipulator of phrases" could not conceal the fact that his treaty with England was a failure. It did not give him that British protection which alone he cared for, and it did not provide, through the greater obstacles of nature, his people with that new trade outlet which was the sole object worth securing in their eyes. The Forsyth treaty seemed to bring the relations of England and Kashgar to a sudden termination; and the Kashgari were quite shrewd enough to perceive that the Athalik Ghazi would not be buttressed by English bayonets against [Pg 243] Russian aggression, if that instrument was to be held, as in their eyes it could not be otherwise than held, the only connecting link between the countries. The consequence of this belief was a resignation to a Russian subjection at no distant date.
Yakoob Beg's tenure of power would be morally weakened by the existence of these causes for discontent among his people, and it was at such a moment, when they had perhaps only slightly become clear to his eyes, that the return of the Chinese was heralded. In the face of a great and common danger a well-affected people would have rallied round their head, and in the crisis have found a joint necessity to produce a better understanding than existed before among their component parts. The country east of Kucha, where it was inhabited at all, was inhabited by the few survivors of the massacres ordered by Yakoob Beg's representatives. Amongst these there could be no great amount of affection towards his cause. The garrison of the city of Kashgar consisted in the main of the pardoned Khitay soldiers—Yangy Mussulmans, as they were called—and from them no stanch support could be expected against their Buddhist countrymen (see Appendix). The Tungani of Kucha and Aksu and the neighbourhood were the most numerous recruits in the army, and from them at least it might have been supposed that the Athalik Ghazi would obtain faithful service. Even among them, however, there was discontent. They had everything to dread at the hands of the Chinese. It was they who had massacred the helpless Khitay, a deed from the stain of which Yakoob Beg at least was free; and it was they against whom the wrath of China would in the first place be directed. But they had also their grudges against the ruler. He had beaten them in the field of battle, and had compelled more than he had induced them to join his army. They hated the Mahomedan Andijani only one degree less than the Buddhist Chinaman, and their ambitious [Pg 244] game had been foiled by the military talents of their present ruler. They had run, in the years 1862–65, all the risk attaching to a revolt against China, and when they had accomplished their task they found themselves defrauded of their reward. Therefore, in the face of a Chinese invasion there was disunion in the ranks of the very Mahomedan rebels who had originated all these troubles. The nucleus of Yakoob Beg's army, when these have been struck out as non-efficient, was small indeed; but it was only on that nucleus he could depend in fighting for his crown and his religion.
During the winter of 1876, when he was busy in collecting arms, ammunition, and stores at Yarkand and Kashgar, he must have discovered many of these discordant elements; yet he pushed his preparations resolutely on. He conceived that under the circumstances the boldest policy would be the most prudent, and that if he could but beat the Chinese in the field by superior tactics he might ride triumphant over all his difficulties and dangers. With these views uppermost in his mind he concentrated all his forces, Tungan included, along the southern slopes of the Tian Shan, with his headquarters at Turfan. The Russian officer, Captain Kuropatkine, who had been sent to Kashgar on a mission, and who had journeyed through the whole extent of Kashgaria to meet the Ameer at Turfan, computed Yakoob Beg's army at the following strength, and supplied the accompanying information concerning its disposition along the frontier.
The fort of Devanchi, guarding the principal defile through the mountain range, was garrisoned by 900 jigits, armed with muskets and two guns—one a breech-loader. At Turfan there were with the Ameer 3,500 jigits and 5,000 sarbazes, with 20 guns, mostly of ancient make. Toksoun, a fortified place, some miles nearer Korla, on the main road, was occupied by 4,000 jigits and 2,000 sarbazes with five guns. Hacc [Pg 245] Kuli Beg had command here. At Korla there were also about 1,500 men, who were brought up to the front shortly after Captain Kuropatkine's departure. With these 17,000 men, scattered over a widely extended area, Yakoob Beg had to defend himself against an enemy superior in numbers, and, as the result showed, in generalship as well.
The Russian officer gave, on his return, a very gloomy account of Yakoob Beg's affairs, predicting the speedy disintegration of his state. He also asserted that the Tungani were deserting in great numbers, and that everywhere east of Kucha there was discontent and distrust of the Kashgarian rulers. This disparaging account was confirmed by Colonel Prjevalsky, some months afterwards, upon his return from his adventurous journey to Lob Nor. In a letter, dated from Little Yuldus, May 28, 1877, he said he had been very kindly received, but also suspiciously watched by Yakoob Beg. "All the way from Hoidu Got to Lob Nor he was escorted by a guard of honour, who officiously endeavoured to satisfy his smallest wishes, but would not allow him, or any of his people, to come in contact with the inhabitants. Yakoob Beg somewhat peremptorily asked Colonel Prjevalsky to explain why the Russians had provisioned the Chinese forces arrayed against him; but, in an interview at Korla, he again and again assured the Russian traveller that he was a friend and well-wisher to Russia. Notwithstanding these precautions, Colonel Prjevalsky and the other members of the expedition succeeded in making the natives tell them that they were disgusted with the military despotism of Yakoob Beg, and that they hoped the Russians would soon be coming."
The information contained in this letter refers to the end of April, 1877, or to a time after the first defeat of Yakoob Beg by the Chinese, and his withdrawal to Korla; but it is à propos in this place as confirming Captain Kuropatkine's remarks. [Pg 246]
In addition to the 17,000, more or less, disciplined soldiers whom Yakoob Beg had mustered at the frontier, Captain Kuropatkine mentioned 10,000 Doungans—that is, the Tungani inhabitants of this eastern region. Not only were these notoriously untrustworthy, but they were also badly armed, and were, on the whole, a source of weakness rather than of strength. Before the close of the month of February the Athalik Ghazi was at Turfan, constructing forts at Toksoun and towards the Tian Shan, and endeavouring to inspire his followers with his own indomitable spirit.
In the meanwhile the Chinese had not been idle. They had, after their triumph over the Tungani, established their headquarters at Guchen, near Urumtsi, and had so far secured their communications with Kansuh that a regular service of couriers was organized, and a continual supply of arms, military stores, and men flowed across Gobi to the invading army. For instance, a large arsenal for the storage of arms was erected at Lanchefoo, and on one occasion as many as 10,000 rifles of the Berdan pattern were sent in a single convoy. While Tso Tsung Tang, the Viceroy of Kansuh and Commander-in-Chief, was making these preparations north of the Tian Shan, for forcing the range with the melting of the snow, another Chinese general, Chang Yao, was stationed at Hamil for the purpose of seconding the main attack by a diversion south of the range. In estimating the total number of the Chinese army at 60,000 men—that is, 50,000 round Guchen and 10,000 at Hamil—we would express only what is probable. The total number may have been more or less, but in estimating it at 60,000 men we believe we are as close to exactitude as is possible under the circumstances. In the month of March the Chinese generals had made all their preparations for attacking Yakoob Beg. So far as our geographical information goes there is no direct road from Guchen to Turfan, and consequently the chief Chinese attack was made [Pg 247] from Urumtsi against Devanchi, where Yakoob Beg had constructed a fort. But, although the larger army was manœuvring north of the Tian Shan, the decisive blow was in reality struck by the smaller force advancing from Hamil. If we are to judge from the disposition of the Kashgarian army, the movements of this brigade had not obtained that attention from the Athalik Ghazi which they merited.
General Chang Yao captured the small towns of Chightam and Pidjam in the middle of April without encountering any serious opposition. And from the latter of these places, some fifty miles east of Turfan, commenced that concerted movement with his superior, Tso Tsung Tang, which was to overcome all Kashgarian resistance. A glance at the map will show that Yakoob Beg at Turfan was caught fairly between two fires by armies advancing from Urumtsi and Pidjam, and if defeated his line of retreat was greatly exposed to an enterprising enemy. Upon the Chinese becoming aware of the success of their preliminary movements a general advance was ordered in all directions. It is evident that the Chinese were met at first with a strenuous resistance at Devanchi, and that the forcing of the Tian Shan defiles had not been accomplished when news reached the garrison that their ruler had been expelled from Turfan by a fresh Chinese army. It was then that confusion spread fast through all ranks of the followers of Yakoob Beg; in that hour of doubt and unreasoning panic the majority of his soldiers either went over to the enemy or fled in headlong flight to Karashar. In this moment of desperation the Athalik Ghazi still bore himself like a good soldier. Outside Turfan he gave battle to the invader, and though driven from the field by overwhelming odds he yet once more made a stand at Toksoun, forty miles west of Turfan, and when a second time defeated withdrew to Karashar to make fresh efforts to withstand the invading army. Yakoob Beg probably lost in these engagements not less [Pg 248] than 20,000 men, including Tungani, by desertion and at the hands of the enemy. He consequently conceived that it would be prudent to withdraw still farther into his territory, and accordingly left Karashar, after a few days' residence, for Korla.
Some weeks before the occurrence of these striking events Yakoob Beg had sent an envoy to Tashkent to solicit the aid of the Russians against the advancing Chinese. But the Russians only gave his messenger fair words, and did not interfere with Mr. Kamensky's commercial transactions with the Chinese army. At the moment, too, Russia was so busily occupied in Europe that she had no leisure to devote to the Kashgarian question.
The Chinese had for many years been good friends with Russia, and Yakoob Beg had all his life been a scarcely concealed enemy. Between two such combatants the sympathies of the Russian government must at first have certainly gone with the former; nor had Yakoob Beg's attitude towards Russia of late been as discreet as it might have been. His nephew, the Seyyid Yakoob Khan, was notoriously an agent for some indefinite purpose at Constantinople. His protection of the Bokharan prince, Abdul Melik, or Katti Torah, the most bitter enemy of Russia in Central Asia, was also ill calculated to attract Russian sympathy to his side.
Moreover there was little or nothing to arouse Russian susceptibilities in Chinese victories so far distant as Urumtsi or Turfan. In many respects, too, this Chinese invasion was a relief for Russia. It freed her hands in Central Asia in a manner that perhaps will never be sufficiently appreciated. Buddhist victories in Eastern Turkestan struck a severe blow at Mahomedan vigour throughout the Khanates, and the waning prestige of the Badaulet, or the "fortunate one," acted as a warning of strange significance to all the neighbouring princes.
It is not difficult, therefore, to discover valid reasons [Pg 249] why the Russians declined to negotiate between the combatants, and although Yakoob Beg endeavoured to come to terms with the Chinese, on the understanding that his personal safety should be guaranteed, all his diplomatic overtures were met by categorical refusals.
The Chinese after entering Toksoun came to a sudden halt, for which the causes are not evident. But the terror of their name had gone before them, and the country east of Karashar was hurriedly abandoned by its inhabitants. The Chinese delay may have been caused by the necessity for collecting provisions to enable them to advance further, or perhaps it may have arisen from the outbreak of some epidemic, as asserted by one of the Indian journals. On this point the Pekin Gazette is profoundly silent. The number for the 23rd of June contained a narrative of the operations round Turfan, and also a list of the honours and rewards given to the successful generals; but it and its subsequent issues are silent as to the causes for the Chinese inactivity that then for many months ensued. The most striking sentence in this report is that which says that "the Mahomedans who submitted themselves were permitted to revert to their peaceful avocations;" and if this be true, this is one instance, at all events, of the Chinese exercising moderation. Strange as it may seem, with this preliminary success the vigour of the Chinese invasion appeared to die away, and for five months nothing more was heard of the whereabouts of the Chinese army. In that interval the most important events occurred in Kashgaria, but with these, the Chinese, although the originators of them, had nothing to do. In the closing scene of all of the eventful life we have been in these pages considering the invading Khitay had no part. They were probably not aware of what was taking place some 300 miles from their camp until many weeks after it had happened; and then conceived that their best policy would be to give time for the disintegrating causes at work within the state to [Pg 250] have their full effect before they advanced westward. When Colonel Prjevalsky saw Yakoob Beg it must have been within a very short period of his death. The shadow of approaching events may have been upon the defeated conqueror, who from recent disaster could only presage worse yet to come.
Of the exact manner of Yakoob Beg's death there are various accounts. The most probable is that he was murdered by a party of conspirators, who were led by Hakim Khan Torah. The date given is the 1st of May. That Yakoob Beg should meet with a violent death, considering that he was surrounded by such doubtful followers as the Tungan chiefs, is not to be marvelled at, and that the first reverse in his career should be the signal for fresh disturbances is only what we should expect from a consideration of his country and its peoples in the light of past history. So far, then, as the assertion goes, that Yakoob Beg was murdered, there is nothing improbable about it. But there are many discrepancies in the accompanying narrative. The first intelligence of the death of the Ameer of Kashgar was contained in a telegram published in the Times of July 16 last year. It stated that his death occurred at Korla, after a short illness, and that he had nominated as his successor Hakim Khan Torah, to the express disregard of his own sons. The telegram went on to say that Hakim Khan had declined to accept the gift, and that the Ameer's eldest son, Beg Kuli Beg, had succeeded to the throne. A few days after this telegram Hakim Khan Torah was identified with the ancient dynasty of Kashgar, which Yakoob Beg had first seated on the throne, and then displaced in the person of Buzurg Khan. All this intelligence came from Tashkent. On the 23rd of July we learnt in this country, from the same source, that Beg Kuli Beg had notified his father's death and his own accession to the throne to General Kaufmann. There no longer remained any doubt that Yakoob Beg was really dead. [Pg 251]
For some reason or other Beg Kuli Beg does not appear to have been a favourite with the Russians; but this aversion to him was based on some mistake, for Beg Kuli Beg was certainly unfriendly to England, and was scarcely civil to our envoy, Sir Douglas Forsyth. Moreover, he at once placed himself in communication with the Russian government, asking for advice as to the course he should pursue with regard to the Chinese invasion, and renewing his father's request that Russia should stop the supplies sent to Urumtsi and Turfan from Kuldja. It was reported, but not confirmed, that his latter demand was complied with.
Nothing more was heard of the history of these events until the end of August, when news reached India through Ladakh and Cashmere that Yakoob Beg "had been assassinated by Hakim Khan Torah, the son of Buzurg Khan." This was the first hint that Yakoob Beg had fallen by the hands of discontented partisans. In itself so natural, it threw fresh light on the strange deed he was reported to have done of disinheriting his own family, and it speedily became the accepted version. The question then was, who was Hakim Khan Torah? Two versions were put forward; one was that he was the son of Buzurg Khan, the other that he was a Khoja chief of Kucha. The former was the more plausible, but as his name does not occur in Sir Douglas Forsyth's exhaustive report, it is open to some objection, more particularly when we are told that he bore a principal part in the conquest of Kashgar by Yakoob Beg. The latter suggestion was much more difficult to prove, but was not open to the same objection. Grant that Hakim, or Aali, Khan Torah was a pardoned Kucha chief when that city fell into the hands of the Athalik Ghazi, and there was nothing extraordinary in his having proved a traitor. Assume that he still conceived he had claims upon the governorship of that city, of which the Turkestan Gazette asserts he had been Dadkwah, and there is nothing inconsistent in his [Pg 252] having sought to realize his own ambitious schemes the moment fortune frowned upon his conqueror. That Hakim Khan, if son to Buzurg Khan, should seek to revenge his father's deposition and life of exile is not in itself strange we admit; but if he were a subjected ruler, who regarded Yakoob Beg as an adventurer from Khokand with no claims to his fealty, his plot against and murder of the Kashgarian prince at once appears not only possible, but the true story. As a leading Khoja of Kucha he would also have claims to represent one branch of the old reigning family of Kashgar. In the face, too, of a great and pressing danger from the Chinese, his hereditary enemies, a son of Buzurg Khan would scarcely make confusion worse confounded by murdering the de facto sovereign; whereas a Kucha leader might aspire to play in such a crisis the same part that Amursana did in the last century. It was said that Hakim Khan entered into some negotiations with the Chinese, who gave him little encouragement.
The Turkestan Gazette still adhered to its original statement that Yakoob Beg had died of fever on the 1st of May, after an illness of seven days' duration, and that on the 13th of May the body was brought in state from Korla to Kashgar for the purpose of being deposited in the mausoleum of Appak Khoja. Then, according to the Turkestan Gazette, there ensued one of those atrocious deeds which have so often marked the history of Central Asian states. The second son of the dead Ameer, Hacc Kuli Beg, who had been with him during his last moments, escorted the funeral cortége, and was met at a short distance from the city by his elder brother, Kuli Beg. The elder son at once knelt before his father's coffin, and then rising, without a moment's delay fired a pistol at his brother, who dropped down dead. Not content with this fratricide, Kuli Beg had the whole of the escort put to the sword, and returned to Kashgar with his own followers escorting [Pg 253] the coffin. We know nothing whatever of the reasons for this atrocious act, but the fact of Kuli Beg being in Kashgar, and not in the east, shows how Hakim Khan was able to establish his authority in Kucha and Korla. It will be more convenient to consider in another chapter the further course of these internal troubles, and also the final triumph of the Chinese.
There are, therefore, two versions of how Yakoob Beg met his death, and in support of each view there is a certain amount of evidence. All the information on the subject has been recorded, and it is conflicting. The Chinese reports in the Pekin Gazette ignore the subject altogether. Their personal hatred was directed more against Bayen Hu, a Tungan leader who had fled from Hamil some years before, than against the Athalik Ghazi. Of the main fact that Yakoob Beg died at Korla in May, 1877, there is no doubt, and that the most eventful career that has marked its track in the history of Central Asia for several generations was then brought to a close.
Whatever opinion may be formed of the man from his varied fortunes, there will be few who will deny that he possessed great mental qualities; some will be found, no doubt, to question his action in deposing Buzurg Khan, and with more justice may his earlier life be blamed for his repeated desertion of his friend and patron Khudayar. Others will call to mind his vacillating conduct in 1875, and deny that he possessed that decision of character which is the salient feature in all truly great men. His unnecessary wars with the Tungani, and the short-sighted policy he pursued of extending his empire up to the vicinity of China, were also calculated to lower his claims to be considered a general or a statesman. In extenuation of these acts, which decidedly undermined the fabric of his rule, it may be mentioned that there is one side of Yakoob Beg's character that has never received sufficient attention. It is what was [Pg 254] the secret to his foreign policy. He certainly did not aspire, as many thought, to contest unaided the palm of superiority with Russia in Central Asia. He was far too well informed to dream of that. Nor could he expect to be able to extend his power to the south, where both Afghanistan and Cashmere would resent his presence. The only option left to him as a conqueror was to continue aggrandizing himself at the expense of China. We know not what dreams may have entered the mind of the stanch Mussulman in his palace at Kashgar of uniting in one crusade against China all the followers of the Prophet in Central Asia and of emulating the deeds of some of his predecessors who had carried fire and sword into the border provinces of China, and whom even the Great Wall could not withstand. Over these bright imaginings, arising from tales told of the decadence of China, we know not how much Yakoob Beg may have brooded as he saw his power spread eastward through fifteen degrees of longitude, through Aksu to Kucha, Kucha to Korla, Korla to Karashar, and Karashar to Turfan, until from his far outpost at Chightam he could almost see the rich cities of Hamil and Barkul, cities which are the key to Western China and Northern Tibet, and imagine them to be within his grasp. But the policy of Yakoob Beg will not be clearly appreciated, unless we bear in mind that these ambitious longings were held in check by fear of Russia, and by the hostility of the Tungani, who continued to plot even when subdued. His keen spirit must have chafed greatly under the inability to accomplish that which he conceived to be possible, and despite his numerous triumphs he was at heart a disappointed man.
Moreover, during these later years, when the task he had set before him had been nearly accomplished, and he had leisure to look around, he was no longer young or as energetic as he had been. He was entering, for an Asiatic, upon the evening of life, and had no longer the physical power to essay any protracted and desperate enterprise. [Pg 255] For a "forlorn hope" he was as eager and as effective as ever, but for those undertakings which require not only desperate courage but also forethought and patience he was no longer fit. But the Chinese invasion dispelled all these, and many other illusions. In their eyes and before their power, he was only another Sultan of Talifoo. His great qualities, which attracted sympathy and a certain amount of respect, in India and England were vain in the eyes of a people whose "empire has," in their own tongue, "been planted by heaven." Before Chinese viceroys and Mantchoo chivalry Khokandian soldiers and Mussulman pride must be held vain. So thought the Chinese, if they thought upon the subject at all. And so must we think who view past history by the aid of Yakoob Beg's overthrow. Yakoob Beg's rule in Kashgar was for twelve years a visible fact; it was recognized by England and by Russia. The Central Asian Khans gladly acknowledged the admission of another to their fast dwindling ranks. Even Shere Ali, an ostensibly powerful ruler, honoured Yakoob Beg not so much with his friendship as with his jealousy. Yet it was all fleeting fast away.
In comparison with Chinese power his was as nothing; in comparison with Chinese perseverance his was weakness; in comparison with Chinese tactics, his tactics were those of a school-boy; and even in comparison with Chinese courage his courage had to confess an equal. There was not only the dead weight of numbers against him, but there was also the quick weight of superior intellect. There were superior strategy and superior weapons; greater force and greater determination; no hesitation in action, and perfect unanimity in council; all combined to crush one poor forlorn man, fighting with all the desperation of despair for life, if not for liberty. Worthier of a better fate, and meeting destiny with the calm that is natural to brave men, Yakoob Beg's defeat and death may serve to "point a moral and adorn a tale." The tale has been told in these pages with as close a [Pg 256] regard for fact as the meagre records will supply, and for the personage whose name is the pivot round which the main facts concentrate, it may be claimed that he deserved attention even from Englishmen. It may well be that some future generation may recur to this career with interest as marking the only real break in the Chinese domination in Eastern Turkestan. When the massacres and other atrocities that marked the Khoja invasions and the Tungan outbreak on both sides shall have been forgotten or condoned, then it will be admitted that, despite the great benefits conferred by China on the people in the way of trade-fostering and good government, there was some merit in the administration which a Khokandian soldier had unaided created in this region. High credit, then, let us, who view the subject from an impartial stand-point, pay this departed warrior, who as a soldier met few equals, as a governor none in his long career. Much as we may marvel at, and perhaps impugn, Chinese strength, let us not judge Yakoob Beg harshly, because Chinamen out-manœuvred him, and overthrew him in fair fight. It is an easy gauge to apply, and one which would dispel all the reputation the Athalik Ghazi had secured, if we deny the Chinese the great qualities those who know them best will accord them without hesitation. But in applying so shallow a test to the case before us, we should be wronging our own understanding quite as much as its victim. However much we may blame Yakoob Beg for going out to encounter an enemy whom he ought to have awaited either at Kucha or Aksu, his valour, and also his mistaken contempt for the Chinese, are made all the more clear. We may fairly claim for him that he was the most remarkable man Central Asia in its fullest extent has produced since Nadir Shah; and that he accomplished with insignificant means a task which ordinary men, though born in the purple and ruling a prosperous and thickly populated state, might have [Pg 257] failed to do. What better epitaph could be placed over a courageous and just ruler?
The moral of his career is a short one, but for us full of significance. Those independent rulers who establish themselves for a space on the confines of China are mere ephemeral excrescences; birds of passage who must betake themselves away, if they can, when their little hour has struck. English governments have never understood the vitality of Chinese institutions. They should appreciate it better in the future.