INDISCREET LETTERS FROM PEKING

Being the Notes of an Eye-Witness, Which Set Forth in Some Detail, fromDay to Day, the Real Story of theSiege and Sack of a Distressed Capitalin 1900--the Year of Great Tribulation

Edited by

B. L. PUTNAM WEALE

Author of "Manchu and Muscovite, "and "The Re-shaping of the Far East. "

China Edition

1922

ShanghaiKelly and Walsh, LimitedBritish Empire and ContinentalCopyright Excepting Scandinavian Countriesby Putnam Weale from 1921

CONTENTS

FOREWORD

PART I--THE WARNING

 I FRAGMENTS II MUTTERINGS III OVERCAST SKIES IV OUR GUARDS ARRIVE V THE PLOT THICKENS VI THE LICKING FLAMES APPROACH VII THE CITY OF PEKING AND ALL ITS GLORIES VIII SOME INCIDENTS AND THE ONE MAN IX THE COMING OF THE BOXERS X BARRICADES AND RELIEFS XI SOME MEN AND THINGS XII HELL HOUNDS XIII A FEW CRUMBS XIV THE ULTIMATUM XV THE DEBACLE BEGINS

PART II--THE SIEGE

 I CHAOS II THE RETREAT AND THE RETURN III FIRES AND FOOD IV THE BONDS TIGHTEN V THE MYSTERIOUS BOARD OF TRUCE VI SHELLS AND SORTIES VII THE HOSPITAL AND THE GRAVEYARD VIII THE FAILURE IX AN INTERLUDE X THE GUNS XI SNIPING XII THE GALLANT FRENCH XIII THE BRITISH LEGATION BASE XIV THE EVER-GROWING CASUALTY LIST XV THE ARMISTICE XVI THE RESUMPTION OF A SEMI-DIPLOMATIC LIFE XVII DIPLOMACY CONTINUES XVIII THE UNREST GROWS AND DIPLOMACY CONTINUES XIX THE FIRST REAL NEWS XX THE THIRD PHASE CONTINUES XXI MORE DIPLOMACY XXII THE WORLD BEYOND OUR BRICKS XXIII TRIFLES XXIV DIPLOMATIC CONFIDENCES XXV THE PLOT AGAIN THICKENS XXVI MORE MESSENGERS XXVII THE ATTACKS RESUMEDXXVIII THE THIRTEENTH XXIX THE NIGHT OF THE THIRTEENTH XXX HOW I SAW THE RELIEF

PART III-THE SACK

 I THE PALACE II THE SACK III THE SACK CONTINUES IV CHAOS V SETTLING DOWN VI THE FORBIDDEN FRUIT VII THE FEW REMAINS VIII THE PALSY REMAINS IX DRIFTING X PICKING UP THREADS XI THE IMPOSSIBLE XII SUSPENSE XIII STILL DRIFTING XIV PUNITIVE EXPEDITIONS XV THE CLIMAX XVI THE END

FOREWORD

The publication of these letters, dealing with the startling eventswhich took place in Peking during the summer and autumn of 1900, at thislate date may be justified on a number of counts. In the first place, there can be but little doubt that an exact narrative from the pen of aneye-witness who saw everything, and knew exactly what was going on fromday to day, and even from hour to hour, in the diplomatic world of theChinese capital during the deplorable times when the dread Boxermovement overcast everything so much that even in England the SouthAfrican War was temporarily forgotten, is of intense human interest, showing most clearly as it does, perhaps for the first time in realisticfashion, the extraordinary _bouleversement_ which overcame everyone; theunpreparedness and the panic when there was really ample warning; therivalry of the warring Legations even when they were almost _inextremis_, and the curious course of the whole seige itself owing to thedivision of counsels among the Chinese--this last a state of affairswhich alone saved everyone from a shameful death. In the second place, this account may dispel many false ideas which still obtain in Europeand America regarding the position of various Powers in China--ideasbased on data which have long been declared of no value by thosecompetent to judge. In the third place, the vivid and terribledescription of the sack of Peking by the soldiery of Europe, showing thedemoralisation into which all troops fall as soon as the iron hand ofdiscipline is relaxed, may set finally at rest the mutual recriminationswhich have since been levelled publicly and privately. Everybody wastarred with the same brush. Those arm-chair critics who have been tooprone to state that brutalities no longer mark the course of war mayreconsider their words, and remember that sacking, with all theaccompanying excesses, is still regarded as the divine right of soldieryunless the provost-marshal's gallows stand ready. In the fourth place, those who still believe that the representatives assigned to Easterncountries need only be second-rate men--reserving for Europe themaster-minds--may begin to ask themselves seriously whether the time hasnot come when only the most capable and brilliant diplomaticofficials--men whose intelligence will help to shape events and not beled by them, and who will act with iron firmness when the time for suchaction comes--should be assigned to such a difficult post as Peking. Inthe fifth place, the strange idea, which refuses to be eradicated, thatthe Chinese showed themselves in this Peking seige once and for allincompetent to carry to fruition any military plan, may be somewhatcorrected by the plain and convincing terms in which the eye-witnessdescribes the manner in which they stayed their hand whenever it couldhave slain, and the silent struggle which the Moderates of Chinesepolitics must have waged to avert the catastrophe by merely gaining timeand allowing the Desperates to dash themselves to pieces when theinevitable swing of the pendulum took place. Finally, it will not escapenotice that many remarks borne out all through the narrative tend toshow that British diplomacy in the Far East was at one time at a lowebb. 

Of course the Peking seige has already been amply described in manyvolumes and much magazine literature. Dr. Morrison, the famous Pekingcorrespondent of the _Times_, informs me that he has in his library noless than forty-three accounts in English alone. The majority ofthese, however, are not as complete or enlightening as they might be;nor has the extraordinarily dramatic nature of the Warning, the Siege, and the Sack been shown. Thus few people, outside of a small circle inthe Far East, have been able to understand from such accounts whatactually occurred in Peking, or to realise the nature of the fightingwhich took place. The two best accounts, Dr. Morrison's own statementand the French Minister's graphic report-to his government, were bothwritten rather to fix the principal events immediately after they hadoccurred than to attempt to probe beneath the surface, or to deal withthe strictly personal or private side. Nor did they embrace that mostremarkable portion of the Boxer year, the entire sack of Peking andthe extraordinary scenes which marked this latter-day Vandalism. Aveil has been habitually drawn over these little-known events, but inthe narrative which follows it is boldly lifted for the first time. 

The eye-witness whose account follows was careful to establish with asmuch lucidity as possible each phase of existence during five monthsof extraordinary interest. Much in these notes has had to besuppressed for many reasons, and much that remains may create someastonishment. Yet it is well to remember that "one eye-witness, however dull and prejudiced, is worth a wilderness of sentimentalhistorians. " The historians are already beginning to arise; thesepages may serve as a corrective to many erroneous ideas. Perhaps somealso will allow that this curious tragedy, swept into Peking andplaying madly round the entrenched European Legations, has intensehuman interest still. The vague terror which oppressed everyonebefore the storm actually burst; the manner in which the feeble chainof fighting men were locked round the European lines, and sufferedgrievously but were providentially saved from annihilation; thecurious way in which diplomacy made itself felt from time to time onlyto disappear as the rude shock of events taking place near Tientsinand the sea were reflected in Peking; the final coming of the strangerelief--all these points and many others are made in such a mannerthat everyone should be able to understand and to believe. Thedescription of the last act of the upheaval--the complete sack ofPeking--shows clearly how the lust for loot gains all men, and hand inhand invites such terrible things as wholesale rape and murder. 

The eye-witness attempts to account for all that happened; to makereal and living the hoarse roll of musketry, the savage cries ofdesperadoes stripped to the waist and glistening in their sweat; togive echo to the blood-curdling notes of Chinese trumpets; to limn thetall mountains of flames licking sky high. If there is failure inthese efforts, it is due to the editing. 

The summer of 1900 in Peking will ever remain as famous in the annalsof the world's history as the Indian Mutiny; it was something uniqueand unparalleled. With the curious movements now at work in the FarEast, it may not be unwise to study the story again. And after PortArthur these pages may show something about which little has beenwritten--the psychology of the seige. The seige is still the rudesttest in the world. It is well to know it. 

B. L. PUTNAM WEALE. 

CHINA, June, 1906. 

INDISCREET LETTERS FROM PEKING

PART I--THE WARNING

I

FRAGMENTS

12th May, 1900. 

 * * * * *

The weather is becoming hot, even here in latitude 40 and in the monthof May. The Peking dust, distinguished among all the dusts of theearth for its blackness, its disagreeable insistence in sticking toone's clothes, one's hair, one's very eyebrows, until a grey-browncoating its visible to every eye, is rising in heavier clouds thanever. In the market-places, and near the great gates of the city, where Peking carts and camels from beyond the passes--_k'ou wai_, touse the correct vernacular--jostle one another, the dust has becomedamnable beyond words, and there can be no health possibly in us. ThePeking dust rises, therefore, in clouds and obscures the very sun attimes; for the sun always shines here in our Northern China, exceptduring a brief summer rainy season, and a few other days you can counton your fingers. The dust is without significance, you will say, sinceit is always there more or less. It is in any case--healthy; it chokesyou, but is reputed also to choke germs; therefore it is good. All ofwhich is true, only this year there is more of it than ever, meaningvery dry weather indeed for this city, hanging near the gates ofMongolian deserts--a dry weather spelling the devil for the Northernfarmer. 

Meanwhile, is there anything special for me to chronicle? Not much, although there is a cloud no bigger than your hand in Shantung not athousand miles from Weihaiwei, and the German Legation is consequentlysomewhat irate. It was noticed at our club, for instance, which, bythe way, is a humble affair, that the German military attache, agentleman who wears bracelets, is somewhat effeminate, and plays viletennis and worse billiards, had a "hostile attitude" towards theBritish Legation--that is, such of the British Legation as gathertogether each day at the "ice-shed"--which happens to be the club'speculiar Chinese name. The military attache is somewhat irate, becausethe spectacle of the Weihaiwei regiment, six hundred yellow men undertwelve white Englishmen, chasing malcontents in Shantung, isderogatory to Teutonic aspirations. Germany has earmarked Shantung, and it is just like English bluntness to remind the would-be dominantPower that there is a British sphere and a British colony in theChinese province, as well as a German sphere and a German colony. Butthe German Minister, a _beau garcon_ with blue eyes and a handsomemoustache, says nothing, and is quite calm. 

Meanwhile the cloud no bigger than your hand is quite unremarked bythe rank and file of Legation Street--that I will swear. Chinesemalcontents--"the Society of Harmonious Fists, " particular habitatShantung province--are casually mentioned; but it is remembered thatthe provincial governor of Shantung is a strong Chinaman, one YuanShih-kai, who has some knowledge of military matters, and, betterstill, ten thousand foreign-drilled troops. Shantung is all right, never fear--such is the comment of the day. 

But the political situation--the _situation politique_ as we call itin our several conversations, which always have a diplomaticturn--although not grave, is unhappy; everybody at least acknowledgesthat. Peking has never been what it was before the Japanese war. Inthe old days we were all something of a happy family. There weremerely the eleven Legations, the Inspectorate of Chinese Customs, withthe aged Sir R---- H---- at its head, and perhaps a few favouredglobe-trotters or nondescripts looking for rich concessions. Picnicsand dinners, races and excursions, were the order of the day, andpolitics and political situations were not burning. Ministersplenipotentiary and envoys extraordinary wore Terai hats, very oldclothes, and had an affable air--something like what Teheran muststill be. Then came the Japanese war, and the eternal politicalsituation. Russia started the ball rolling and the others kicked italong. The Russo-Chinese Bank, appeared on the scenes led by the greatP----, a man with an ominous black portfolio continually under hisarm, as he hurried along Legation Street, and an intriguing expressionalways on his dark face--a veritable master of men and moneys, theysay. This intriguing soon found Expression in the Cassini Convention, denounced as untrue, and followed by a perfectly open and frankManchurian railway convention, a convention which, in spite of itsfrankness, had future trouble written unmistakably on the face of it. Besides these things there were always ominous reports of otherthings--of great things being done secretly. 

After the Russo-Chinese Bank and the Manchurian railway business, there was the Kiaochow affair, then the Port Arthur affair, theWeihaiwei and Kwangchowwan affairs, nothing but "affairs" all tendingin the same direction--the making of a very grave political situation. The juniors to-day make fun of it, it is true, and greet each otherdaily with the salutation, "_La situation politique est tres grave_, "and laugh at the good words. But it is grave notwithstanding thelaughter. Once in 1899, after the Empress Dowager's _coup d'etat_ andthe virtual imprisonment of the Emperor, Legation Guards had to besent for, a few files for each of the Legations that possess squadronsin the Far East, and, what is more, these guards had to stay for agood many months. The guards are now no more, but it is curious thatthe men they came mainly to protect us against--Tung Fu-hsiang'sMohammedan braves from the savage back province of Kansu who love thereactionary Empress Dowager--are still encamped near the Northerncapital. 

The old Peking society has therefore vanished, and in its place arehighly suspicious and hostile Legations--Legations petty in theirconceptions of men and things--Legations bitterly disliking oneanother--in fact, Legations richly deserving all they get, some of thecynics say. 

The Peking air, as I have already said, is highly electrical andunpleasant in these hot spring days with the dust rising in heavyclouds. Squabbling and cantankerous, rather absurd and petty, theLegations are spinning their little threads, each one hedged in byhigh walls in its own compound and by the debatable question of the_situation politique_. 

Outside and around us roars the noise of the Tartar city. At night thenoise ceases, for the inner and outer cities are closed to one anotherby great gates; but at midnight the gates are opened by sleepy Manchuguards for a brief ten minutes, so that gorgeous red and blue-trappedcarts, drawn by sleek mules, may speed into the Imperial City for theDaybreak Audience with the Throne. These conveyances contain the highofficials of the Empire. It has been noticed by a Legation stroller onthe Wall--the Tartar Wall--that the number of carts passing in atmidnight is far greater than usual; that the guards of the city gatesnow and again stop and question a driver. It is nothing. 

Meanwhile the dust rises in clouds. It is very dry this year--that isall. 

II

MUTTERINGS

24th May, 1900. 

 * * * * *

We are beginning to call them Boxers--grudgingly and sometimes harkingback and giving them their full name, "Society of Harmonious Fists, "or the "Righteous Harmony Fist Society"; but still a beginning hasbeen made, and they are becoming Boxers by the inevitable process ofshortening which distinguishes speech. 

have been talking about them a good deal to-day, these Boxers, since it has been the birthday of her most excellent Majesty QueenVictoria, and the British Legation has been _en fete_. Her Majesty'sMinister, in fine, has been entertaining us in the vast and princelygardens of the British Legation at his own expense. Weird Chineselanterns have been lighted in the evening and slung around thegrounds; champagne has been flowing with what effervescence it couldmuster; the eleven Legations and the nondescripts have forgotten theircares for a brief space and have been enjoying the evening air and themusic of Sir R---- H----'s Chinese band. Looking at lighted lanterns, drinking champagne cup, listening to a Chinese band--where the devilis the protocol and the political situation, you will say? Not quiteforgotten, since the French Minister attracted the attention of manyall the evening by his vehement manner. I pushed up once, too, andwith a polite bow listened to what he was saying. Ah, the old words, the eternal words, the political situation, or the _situationpolitique_, whichever way you like to use them. But still you listen abit, for it is droll to hear the yet unaccustomed word Boxers inFrench. "_Les Boxeurs_, " he says; and what the French Minister says isalways worth listening to, since he has the best Intelligence corps inthe world--the Catholic priests of China--at his disposal. 

Curiously enough, he was speaking of the arch-priest of priests, renowned above all others in this Peking world, Monseigneur F----, Vicar Apostolic of the Manchu capital--almost Vicar of God tocountless thousands of dark-yellow converts. It is Monseigneur F----'sletter of the 19th May, written but five days ago, and already locallyfamous through leakage, which was the subject-matter of his impromptuoration. Monseigneur F---- wrote and demanded a guard of marines forhis cathedral, his people and his chattels--_quarante ou cinquantemarins pour proteger nos personnes et nos biens_, were his exactwords, and his request has been cruelly refused by the Council ofMinisters on the ground that it is absurd. The Vicar Apostolic, however, gave his grounds for making such a demand calmly andlogically--depicted the damage already done by an anti-foreign andrevolutionary movement in the districts not a thousand miles fromPeking, and solemnly forecasted what was soon to happen. .. . 

The French Minister was irate and raised his fat hands above his fatperson, took a discreet look around him, and then hinted that it wasthis Legation, the British Legation, which stopped the marines fromcoming. 

The French Minister was quite irate, and after his discourse was endedhe slipped quietly away--possibly to send some more telegrams. Thecrumbs of his conversation were soon gathered up and distributed andthe conviviality somewhat damped. As yet, however, the Boxers are onlylaughed at and are not taken quite seriously. They have killed nativeChristians, it is true, and it has been proved conclusively now thatit was they who murdered Brooks, the English missionary in Shantung. But Englishmen are cheap, since there is a glut in the home market, and their government merely gets angry with them when they get intotrouble and are killed. So many are always getting killed in China. 

So the Boxers, with half the governments of Europe, led by England, aswe know by our telegrams, seeking to minimise their importance--infact, trying to stifle the movement by ignoring it or lavishing on ittheir supreme contempt--have already moved from their particularhabitat, which is Shantung, into the metropolitan province of Chihli. Already they are in some force at Chochou, only seventy miles to thesoutheast of Peking--always massacring, always advancing, and drivingin bodies of native Christians before them on their march. Nobodycares very much, however, except a vicar apostolic, who urgentlyrequests forty or fifty marines or sailors "to protect our persons andour chattels. " Foolish bishop he is, is he not, when Christians havebeen expressly born to be massacred? Does he not know his history?

Lead on, blind ministers plenipotentiary and envoys extraordinary;lead on, with your eternal political situations in embryo, youreternal political situations that have not yet hatched out; while onethat is more pregnant than any you have ever conceived is alreadyborn under your very noses and is being sniffed at by you. But nomatter what happens outside, Peking is safe, that is your dictum, andthe dictum of the day. So, yawning and somewhat tired of the evening'sconvivialities, we go our several ways home, in our Peking carts andour official chairs, and are soon lost in sleep--dreaming, perhaps, that we have been too long in this dry Northern climate, and that itis really affecting one's nerves. 

III

OVERCAST SKIES

28th May, 1900. 

 * * * * *

It is only four days since we discussed the Vicar Apostolic's letter, and laughed somewhat at French excitability; but in four days what achange! The cloud no bigger than your hand is now bigger than yourwhole body, bigger, indeed, than the combined bodies of all yourneighbours, supposing you could spread them fantastically in greatlayers across the skies. What, then, has happened?

It is that the Boxers, christened by us, as you will remember, but twoor three short weeks ago, have blossomed forth with such fierce growththat they have become the men of the hour to the exclusion ofeverything else, and were one to believe one tithe of the talkbabbling all around, the whole earth is shaking with them. Yet it is avery local affair--a thing concerning only a tiny portion of ahalf-known corner of the world. But for us it is sufficiently grave. The Peking-Paotingfu railway is being rapidly destroyed; Fentaistation, but six miles from Peking--think of it, only six miles fromthis Manchu holy of holies--has gone up in flames; a great steelbridge has succumbed to the destroying energy of dynamite. All theEuropean engineers have fled into Peking; and, worst of all, the Boxerbanners have been unfurled; and lo and behold, as they floated in thebreeze, the four dread characters, "_Pao Ch'ing Mien Yang_, " have beenread on blood-red bunting--"Death and destruction to the foreigner andall his works and loyal support to the great Ching dynasty. "

Is that sufficiently enthralling, or should I add that theinvulnerability of the Boxer has been officially and indisputablytested by the Manchus, according to the gossip of the day? Proceedingto the Boxer camp at Chochou, duly authorised officers of the Crownhave seen recruits, who have performed all the dread rites, and areinitiated, stand fearlessly in front of a full-fledged Boxer; haveseen that Boxer load up his blunderbuss with powder, ramming down awad on top; have witnessed a handful of iron buckshot added, but withno wad to hold the charge in place; have noticed that the master Boxergesticulated with his lethal weapon the better to impress his audiencebefore he fired, but have not noticed that the iron buckshot trippedmerrily out of the rusty barrel since no wad held it in place; andfinally, when the fire-piece belched forth flames and ear-breakingnoise at a distance of a man's body from the recruit's person, theyhave seen, and with them thousands of others, that no harm came. It isastounding, miraculous, but it is true; henceforth, the Boxer isofficially invulnerable and must remain so as long as the ground isparched. That is what our Chinese reports say. 

There are myriads of men already in camp and myriads more speeding ontheir way to this Chochou camp of camps, while in village and hamletlocal committees of public safety against the accursed foreigner andall his works are being quite naturally evolved, and red cloth--thatsign manual of revolt--is already at a premium. The whole-province ofChihli is shaking; North China will soon be in flames; any one withhalf a nose can smell rebellion in the air. .. . 

This is one side of the picture, the side which friendly Chinese arepainting for us. Yet when you glance at the eleven Legations, placidlyliving their own little lives, you will see them cynically listeningto these old women's tales, while at heart they secretly wonder whatpolitical capital each of them can separately make out of the wholebusiness, so that their governments may know that Peking has cleverdiplomats. Clever diplomats! There have been no clever diplomats inPeking since G---- of the French Legation took his departure, and thatpurring Slav P---- went to Seoul. 

Of course Peking is safe, that goes without saying; but merely becausethere are foolish women and children, some nondescripts, and a goodmany missionaries, we will order a few guards. This, at least, hasjust been decided by the Council of Ministers--a rather foolishcouncil, without backbone, excepting one man. All the afternooneverybody was occupied in telegraphing the orders and reports of theday, and these actions are now beyond recall. 

Guards have been ordered from the ships lying out at the Taku bar. Theguards will soon be here, and when they have come the movement willcease. Thus have the eleven Legations spoken, each telegraphing adifferent tale to its government, and each more than annoyed by thisjoint action. Incidentally each one is secretly wondering what isgoing to happen, and whether there is really any danger. 

It has been directly telegraphed from London by Her Majesty'sSecretary of Foreign Affairs, Lord Salisbury, so gossip says, that asquite enough has been heard of this Boxer business it must cease atonce. Is not the South African War still proceeding, and has Englandnot enough troubles without this additional one? It is almostpathetic, this peremptory order from a vacillating Foreign Office thatnever knows its own mind--this Canute-like bidding of the angry wavesof human men to stand still at once and be no more heard of. People inEurope will never quite understand the East, for the East is ruled bythings which are impossible in a temperate climate. 

Meanwhile, in the Palace, whose pink walls we see blinking at us inthe sun just beyond Legation Street, all is also topsy-turvy, theChinese reports say. The Empress Dowager, shrewdly listening to thisperson and that, must feel in her own bones that it is a bad business, and that it will not end well, for she understands dynastic disastersuncommonly well. She has sent again and again for P'i Hsiao-li, "Cobbler's-wax" Li, as he is called, the reputed false eunuch who ismaster of her inner counsels, if Chinese small talk is to be believed. The eunuch Li has been told earnestly to find out the truth andnothing but the truth. A passionate old woman, this Empress Dowager ofChina, a veritable Catherine of Russia in her younger days they say, with her hot Manchu blood and her lust for ruling men. "Cobbler's-wax"Li, son of a cobbler and falsely emasculated, they say, so that hemight become an eunuch of the Palace, from which lowly estate he hasblossomed into the real power behind the Throne, hastens off once moreto the palace of Prince Tuan, the father of the titular heir-apparent. As Prince Tuan's discretion has long since been cast to the winds, and Lao t'uan-yeh, or spiritual Boxer chiefs, now sit at the princelybanqueting tables discussing the terms on which they will rush theTartar city with their flags unfurled and their yelling forces behindthem, a foolish and irresolute government, made up of the most diverseelements, and a rouge-smirched Empress Dowager, will then have to sidewith them or be begulfed too. Anxiously listening, "Cobbler's-wax" Liweights the odds, for no fool is this false eunuch, who through hismanly charms leads an Empress who in turn leads an empire. Halfsuspicious and wholly unconvinced, he questions and demands the exactnumber of invulnerables that can be placed in line; and is forthwithassured, with braggart Chinese choruses, that they are as locusts, that the whole earth swarms with them, that the movement isunconquerable. Still unconvinced, the false eunuch takes hisdeparture, and then the Throne decrees and counter decrees in agonisedEdicts. It is noticed, too, that the distributors of the officialorgan, the _Peking Gazette_, no longer staidly walk their rounds, pausing to gossip with their friends, but run with their wooden-blockprinted Edicts wet from the presses, and shout indiscreetly to thepassers-by, "Aside, our business is important. " In all faith there issomething in this movement. It is also noticed that roughness andrudeness are growing in the streets; little things that are always theprecursors of the coming storm in the East are freely indulged in, and"foreign devil" is now almost a chorus. The atmosphere is obviouslyunwholesome, but guards have been ordered and it will soon be well. All these other things of which I speak are merely native reports. .. . 

Meanwhile each Legation does not forget its dignity, but walksstolidly alone. Alone in front of the French Legation is there somecommotion almost hourly. It is, however, only the arrival anddeparture of Catholic priests posting to and from the Pei-t'ang aboutthat little business of forty or fifty marines _pour proteger nospersonnes et nos biens_, that is all. A singularly importunate fellowthis Monseigneur F----, our most reverend Vicar Apostolic of theManchu capital. 

IV

OUR GUARDS ARRIVE

31st May, 1900. 

 * * * * *

We had been dining out, a number of us, this evening, with result thatthe good wine and the good fare, for the Peking markets are admirable, left us reasonably content and in quite a valorous spirit. The party Iwas at was neither very large nor very small; we were eighteen, to beexact, and the political situation was represented in all its gravityby the presence of a Minister and his spouse. The former has alwaysbeen pessimistic, and so we had Boxers for soup, Boxers with the_entrees_, and Boxers to the end. In fact, if the truth be told, theBoxers surrounded us in a constant vapour of words so formidable thatone might well have reason to be alarmed. P----, the Minister, was, indeed, very talkative and gesticulative; his wife was sad and sighedconstantly--_elle poussait des soupirs tristes_--at the luridspectacle her husband's words conjured up. According to him, anythingwas possible. There might be sudden massacres in Peking itself--theChinese Government had gone mad. Rendered more and more talkative bythe wine and the good fare, he became alarming, menacing in the end. But we became more and more valiant as we ate and drank. That isalways so. 

It was all the guards' fault. Telegrams despatched in the morning fromTientsin distinctly told us that the guards were entraining; laternews said the guards had actually started; and yet when we were almostthrough dinner, and it was nearly ten o'clock, there was not a sign ofthem. That was the distressing point, and in the end, as it thrustitself more and more on people's attention, the first great valourbegan to ooze. For although the Guardian of the Nine Gates--a speciesof Manchu warden or grand constable of Peking--has been officiallywarned that foreign guards, whose arrival has been duly authorised bythe Tsung-li Yamen, may be a little late and that consequently theCh'ien Men, or the Middle Gate, should be kept open a couple of hourslonger, the chief guardian may become nervous and irate andincontinently shut the gates. This alone might provoke an outbreak. 

This train of thought once started, we busily followed it up, and soonall the wives were sighing in unison more heavily than ever. I shallalways remember what happened at that psychological moment. A strip ofred-lined native writing-paper was placed in somebody's hands with along list of the different detachments which had just passed inthrough the Main Gate. At last the guards had arrived. Speedily webecame very valorous again. P---- afterwards said that he knewsomething which he had not dared to tell any one--not even hissecretaries. 

From this little list, it was soon clear that the British, French, Russian, American, Italian, and Japanese detachments had arrived. TheGermans and the Austrians were missing, but we concluded that theywould arrive by another train within very few hours. The importantpoint was that men had been allowed to come through--that the ChineseGovernment, in spite of its enormous capacity for mischief, could notyet have made up its mind how to act. That consoled us. 

After this, a faint-hearted attempt was made to continue our talk. Butit was no good. We soon discovered that each one of us had beensimulating a false interest in our never-ending discussion. We reallywished to see with our own eyes these Legation Guards who might stillsave the situation. 

Strolling out in the warm night, just as we were, we first came onthem in the French Legation. The French detachment were merely sailorsbelonging to what they call their _Compagnies de debarquement_, andthey were all brushing each other down and cursing the _sacreepoussiere_. Such a leading _motif_ has this Peking dust become thatthe very sailors notice it. Also we found two priests from MonseigneurF----'s Cathedral, sitting in the garden and patiently waiting for theMinister's return. I heard afterwards that they would not move untilP---- decided that twenty-five sailors should march the next day tothe Cathedral--in fact at daylight. 

In all the Legations I found it was much the same thing--the men ofthe various detachments were brushing each other down and exchangingcongratulations that they had been picked for Peking service. It was, perhaps, only because they were so glad to be allotted shore-dutyafter interminable service afloat off China's muddy coasts that theycongratulated one another; but it might be also because they had heardtell throughout the fleets that the men who had come in '98, after the_coup d'etat_, had had the finest time which could be imagined--allloafing and no duties. They did not seem to understand or suspect. .. . 

I found later in the night that there had actually been a littletrouble at the Tientsin station. The British had tried to get througha hundred marines instead of the maximum of seventy-five which hadbeen agreed on. The Chinese authorities had then refused to let thetrain go, and although an English ship's captain had threatened tohang the station-master, in the end the point was won by the Chinese. By one or two in the morning everybody was very gay, walking about andhaving drinks with one another, and saying that it was all right now. Then it was that I remembered that it was already June--the historicmonth which has seen more crises than any other--and I became a littlegloomy again. It was so terribly sultry and dry that it seemed as ifanything could happen. I felt convinced that the guards were too few. 

V

THE PLOT THICKENS

4th June, 1900. 

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No matter in what light you look at it, you realise that somehow--insome wonderful, inexplicable manner--normal conditions have ceasedlong ago--in the month of May, I believe. The days, which a couple ofweeks ago had but twenty-four hours, have now at least forty-two. Youcannot exactly say why this strange state of affairs obtains, for asyet there is nothing very definite to fix upon, and you haveabsolutely no physical sensation of fear; but the mercury of both thebarometer and the thermometer has been somehow badly shaken, and themainsprings of all watches and clocks, although still much as themainsprings of clocks and watches in other parts of theworld--bringing your mind to bear on it you know they are exactly thesame--are merely mechanism, and allow the day to have at leastforty-two hours. It is strange, is it not, and you begin to understandvaguely some of the quite impossible Indian metaphysics which tell yougravely that what is, is not, and that what is not can still be. .. . Inthe crushing heat you can understand that. 

Perhaps it is all because the hours are now split into ten separateand different parts by the fierce rumours which rage for a few minutesand then, dissipating their strength through their very violence, dieaway as suddenly as they came. The air is charged with electricity ofhuman passions until it throbs painfully, and then. .. . You aremerrily eating your _tiffin_ or your dinner, and quite calmly cursingyour "_boy_" because something is not properly iced. Your "_boy_, " whois a Bannerman or Manchu and of Roman Catholic family, as are allservants of polite Peking society, does not move a muscle nor show anypassing indignation, as he would were the ordinary rules andregulations of life still in existence. He, like everyone of thehundreds of thousands of Peking and the millions of North China, iswaiting--waiting more patiently than impatient Westerners, but waitingjust as anxiously; waiting with ear wide open to every rumour; waitingwith an eye on every shadow--to know whether the storm is going tobreak or blow away. There is something disconcerting, startling, unseemly in being waited on by those who you know are in turn waitingon battle, murder, and sudden death. You feel that something may comesuddenly at any moment, and though you do not dare to speak yourthoughts to your neighbour, these thoughts are talking busily to youwithout a second's interruption. For if this storm truly comes, itmust sweep everything before it and blot us all out in a horrible way. Our servants tell us so. 

These servants of polite Peking society are favoured mortals, for theyone and all are of the Eight Banners, direct descendants of the Manchuconquerors of China. And, strangely enough, although they are thusdirectly tied to the Manchu dynasty, and that some of them may be evenRed Girdles or lineal descendants of collateral branches of theImperial house, they are still more tightly tied to the foreignerbecause they are Roman Catholic dating from the early days ofVerbiest and Schall, when the Jesuits were all supreme. On Sundays andfeast days they all proceed to the Vicar Apostolic's own northerncathedral, and witness the Elevation of the Host to the discordant andstrange sound of Chinese firecrackers, a curious accompaniment, indeed, permitted only by Catholic complacency. This they love morethan the Throne. 

Your Bannerman servant is now the medium of bringing in countlessrumours which he barefacedly alleges are facts, and in impressing onyou that everyone must certainly die unless we quickly act. The threeRoman Catholic Cathedrals of Peking, placed at three points of thecompass, are almost strategic centres surrounded by whole lanes anddistricts of Catholics captured to the tenets of Christ, or thatportion deemed sufficient for yellow men, in ages gone by. Everyhousehold of these people during the past few weeks has seenfellow-religionists from the country places running in sorelydistressed in body and mind, and but ill-equipped in money and meansfor this impromptu escape to the capital which everyone vainly hopesgenerally is to be a sanctuary. The refugees, it is true, do notreceive all the sympathy they expect, for the Peking Catholic beingthe oldest and most mature in the eighteen provinces of China, holdshis head very high, and "new people"--that is, those whose familieshave only been baptized, let us say, during the nineteenthcentury--are somewhat disdained. In a word, the Peking cathedrals andtheir Manchu and other adherents are the Blacks; and not even in papalRome could this aristocracy in religion be excelled. But although thenewcomers are disdained, their news is not. Everything they say isbelieved. The servants, therefore, browsing rumours wherever they go, bring back a curious hotchpotch after each separate excursion. Sometimes the balance swings this way, sometimes that; sometimes it isominously black, sometimes only cloudy. You never know what it will beten minutes hence, and you must content yourself as best you can. Yourbody-servant being a Bannerman (my particular one is a Manchu), andbeing reasonably young, is also a reservist of the Peking Field Force, and consorts with other Bannermen who may be actually on guard at oneof the Palace gates. Who passes in and who passes out of the Palacenow spreads like wildfire round the whole city, for the success of theBoxers will depend upon the support the Peking Government intends togive them when the worst comes to the worst. And the Peking Governmentis still fencing, because the Palace cannot make up its mind whetherthe time has really come when it must act. This lack of decision isfatal. 

Late in the afternoon it transpired that the Empress Dowager was notin the Imperial city at all, but out at the Summer Palace on theWan-shou-shan--the hills of ten thousand ages, as these are poeticallycalled. Tung Fu-hsiang, whose ruffianly Kansu braves were marched outof the Chinese city--that is the outer ring of Peking--two nightsbefore the Legation Guards came in, is also with the Empress, for hiscavalry banners, made of black and blue velvet, with blood-redcharacters splashed splendidly across them, have been seen planted atthe foot of the hills. Tung Fu-hsiang is an invincible one, whostamped out the Kansu rebellion a few years ago with such fiercenessthat his name strikes terror to-day into every Chinese heart. As forP'i Hsiao-li--the false eunuch--he is everywhere, they say, sometimeshere, sometimes there, and quite defying search. The eunuch has amighty fortune at stake, and all natives believe that he will betrayhimself. Half the pawnshops and banks of Peking belong to him, and hewill not sacrifice his thirty million taels until he is convinced thathis head is at stake. The Summer Palace lies but a dozen miles beyondPeking's embattled walls, and from the top, straining your eyes to thewest, you can vaguely see the Empress's plaisaunce. A journey in andout is nothing by cart, and this favoured eunuch has the best mules inthe Empire--black jennets fifteen hands high--and is using them nightand day. And so everyone is asking again and again whether theEmpress has arranged with Prince Tuan, since that is the burningquestion; and did this eunuch of eunuchs have his fateful confidentialinterview with the secret Boxer leaders, which was to decide finallyon extermination. 

The families of other palace eunuchs say yes, and the wife of oneeunuch, living near the South Cathedral, is quite positive, myservants inform me. Wife of a eunuch, did I say? You will think memad, but it is nevertheless true, for Chinese eunuchs have wives. Whyhave they wives, you will ask, since they are only half men, andcannot perform the duties of the male? Well, I can only answer as didmy teacher once when I asked him years ago. "Eunuchs are still men, "he said, smiling doubtfully, "insomuch as they like homes of their ownbeyond the Palace walls and desire children to play with. Since theirwives can bear no children they buy children from poor people, andthese duly become their own. Thus when the eunuch dies he has childrento worship at his grave. " In this land of mystery even eunuchs cancorrectly become ancestors. Yet this is a trivial detail which Ishould not speak of. 

So the eunuch's wife living near the South Cathedral, who gossips withher Black Catholic neighbours, and whose gossip gives me news manytimes a day, avers most positively that the chief eunuch has been intown--that the whole matter has been decided--and that every foreignerwill die. And very late in the evening my Manchu servant rushed in onme with his eyes sparkling strangely, and his voice so hoarse withexcitement that he did not speak, but shout. "Master, " he cried, "Ihave seen myself this time; three long carts full of swords and spearshave passed in from the outer city through the Ha-ta Gate. The cityguards stopped and questioned the drivers--then let them go. They hada pass from the Governor of Peking, and the people all say it is nowcoming. " Now do you wonder about our clocks and our watches, and ourtime? Nothing can ever be normal again until this terrible question issolved. 

VI

THE LICKING FLAMES APPROACH

9th June 1900. 

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It is getting desperate, of that there is now no shadow of doubt. TheTientsin trains that have been lately running more and more slowly andirregularly, as if they, too, were waiting on the pleasure of thecoming storm, are going to run no more, and the odds are heavilyagainst to-day's train ever reaching its destination. It is true thesetrains have long ceased running as far as we are personally concerned, for the weariness of living forty-two hours during twenty-four dullsone's perception of everything excepting one's immediate surroundings. And even one's surroundings are somehow shrinking until they will soonbe but the four walls of a courtyard. But about the trains--why arethey stopping? Because the licking flames are approaching so near thatthey will soon overwhelm all who are concerned with the running oftrains unless they disappear very nimbly. One of the Chinese railwaymanagers, an educated man in the Western sense who can quoteShakespeare, has been all over Legation Street yesterday and to-day, pointing out the hopelessness of the general position and almostopenly urging the Legations to call on Europe to take steps. GeneralNieh, an intelligent general, with foreign-drilled troops, has indeedbeen fitfully ordered by Imperial Edict to "protect the railway, " andto keep communication open, but this order has already come tonothing, and the position is worse than it was before. His troops, merely desirous of testing their brand-new Mausers, and as calmlycruel as only Easterns can be, did open a heavy fire a day or two agoon some Boxer marauders who had strayed into a station on theTientsin-Peking line, and proposed to crucify the nativestation-master and beat all others, who were indirectly eating theforeign devils' rice by working on the railway, into lumps of jelly. General Nieh's men let their rifles crash off, not because theirsympathies were against the Boxers, but probably because every livingman armed with a rifle loves to fire at another living man when he cando so without harm to himself. This is my brutal explanation. But inany case these soldiers have now been marched off in semi-disgrace totheir camp at Lutai, a few miles to the north of Tientsin, and toldnever to do such rash and indiscreet things again. That means the endof any attempts to control. For the Boxer partisans in Peking allegethat the soldiers actually hit and killed a good many men, which isquite without precedent, and is upsetting all plans. On such occasionsit is always understood that you fire a little in the air, warwhoop agood deal, and then come back quietly to camp with captured flags andbanners as undeniable evidences of your victory. This has been the oldmethod of making domestic war in China--the only one. 

But all this is many miles from the sacred capital. The cry is stillthat we of Peking are safe, and that even if this is to be a truerebellion we cannot be hurt. The cry, however, is not so lusty as itwas even three or four days ago, and, indeed, has only become anofficial cry--that is, one you are permitted to contradict privatelywhen you meet your dear colleagues in the street and wonder aloudwhat is really going to happen. In the despatches Peking is stillquite safe, although unwholesome. Yet our own private politicalsituations, of which we were so proud and talked so vauntingly, haveall now disappeared, miserable things, and are quite lost andforgotten. No one cares to talk about them. People merely say that allbusiness is temporarily suspended; that we must wait and merely marktime. 

But we discovered something worth knowing at the last moment to-daywhich is, without any doubt, true. The Empress Dowager returned to-dayfrom the Summer Palace, and is now actually in the Forbidden City. Weare at a loss to know exactly as yet what this means, and whether itis an augury of good or of bad. The Winter Palace is so near us; it isjust to the west of us. The fact that the redoubtable Tung Fu-hsiangrode behind his Imperial mistress with his banner-bearers flauntingtheir colours and his trumpets blaring as loudly as possible is, however, not very reassuring. It seemed like defiance and treachery. 

But at first, in spite of the Empress's entry, there were not manyrumours accompanying her; in the late afternoon they came so thick andfast that no one had time to write them down. But of rumours we havehad more than our bellyful. Let me tell some of the facts. 

First and foremost. The racecourse grand-stand where less than a monthago we were all watching the struggles for victory between our variousshort-legged ponies, has gone up in flames and puff--just likethat--the social battle-ground is no more. The Boxers, for everybodywho does anything nowadays is a Boxer, tried to grill our officialcaretakers on the red-hot bricks, but the neighbouring village came tothe rescue and shouted the marauders out of the place. That is thenearest danger which has been heard of. Immediately after this someLegation students, riding out on the sands under the Tartar Wall, wereopenly attacked by spear-armed men, and only escaped by gallopingfuriously and firing the revolvers which everyone now carries. Mostimportant of all, however, to us is that aged Sir R---- H---- ishauling down his colours, and has been rapidly calling in all hisscattered staff who live near the premises of the Tsung-liYamen--China's Foreign Office. Here we are, the Legations of allEurope, with five hundred sailors and marines cleaning their riflesand marking out distances in the capital of a so-called friendlyPower; with our _pro forma_ despatches still being despatched whileour real messages are frightened; attempting to weather a storm whichthe Chinese Government is powerless to arrest. The very passers-by arebecoming sheep-eyed and are looking at us askance. 

Passers-by, did I say? But do not imagine from this that there aremany of these, for the Chinese have been for days avoiding theLegation quarter as if it were plague-stricken, and sounds that wereso roaring a few weeks ago are now daily becoming more and morescarce. A blight is settling on us, for we are accursed by the wholepopulation of North China, and who knows what will be the fate ofthose seen lurking near the foreigner?

And now when we wander even in our own streets--that is, thoseabutting immediately on our compounds of the Legation area--a newnickname salutes our ears. No longer are we mere _yang kuei-tzu_, foreign devils; we have risen to the proud estate of _ta mao-tzu_, orlong-haired ones of the first class. _Mao-tzu_ is a term of somecontemptuous strength, since _mao_ is the hair of animals, and ourbarbarian heads are not even shaved. The _ta_--great or firstclass--is also significant, because behind our own detested classpress two others deserving of almost equal contempt at the hands ofall believers in divine Boxerism. These are _ehr-mao-tzu_ and _sanmao-tzu_, second and third class coarse-haired ones. All good convertsbelong to the second class, and death awaits them, our servants say;while as to the third category, all having any sort of connection, direct or indirect with the foreigner and his works are lumpedindiscriminately together in this one, and should be equally detested. The small talk of the tea-shops now even says that officials having afew sticks of European furniture in their houses are _san mao-tzu_. Itis very significant, too, this open talk in the tea-shops, because inofficial Peking, the very centre of the enormous, loose-jointedEmpire, political gossip is severely disliked and the four characters, "_mo t'an kuo shih_" (eschew political discussions), are skied inevery public room. People in the old days of last month heeded thisfour-character warning, for a bambooing at the nearest police-station, _ting erh_, was always a possibility. Now everyone can do as helikes. 

It is, therefore, becoming patent to the most blind that this is goingto be something startling, something eclipsing any other anti-foreignmovement ever heard of, because never before have the users of foreignimports and the mere friends of foreigners been labelled in a classjust below that of the foreigners themselves. And then as it becamedark to-day, a fresh wave of excitement broke over the city andproduced almost a panic. The main body of Tung Fu-hsiang's savageKansu braves--that is, his whole army--re-entered the capital andrapidly encamped on the open places in front of the Temples of Heavenand Agriculture in the outer ring of Peking. This settled it, I amglad to say. At last all the Legations shivered, and urgent telegramswere sent to the British admiral for reinforcements to be rushed up atall costs. 

But too late--too late; the Manchu servants who have friends among theguards at the Palace gates have said this all the evening. For theChinese Colossus, lumbering and lazy, sluggish and ill-equipped, hasraised himself on his elbow, and with sheep-like and calculating eyesis looking down on us--a pigmy-like collection of foreigners and theirguards--and soon will risk a kick--perhaps even will trample usquickly to pieces. How bitterly everyone is regretting our falseconfidence, and how our chiefs are being cursed!

VII

THE CITY OF PEKING AND ALL ITS GLORIES

11th June, 1900. 

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You do not know this Capital of Capitals, perhaps--that is, you do notknow it as you should if the scenes which may presently move acrossthe stage, now in shouting crowds of sword-armed men, now in pitiableincidents of small account, are to be properly understood, and theirdramatic setting, stirring blood-thrilling, incongruous as they mustbe and can only be. I feel that something will come--I even know it. Ihave been talking vaguely about this and about that; have begunpreparing colours, as it were, in the usual careless fashion withoutexplanations or digressions--until you possibly wonder what it is allabout. For you have not yet seen the barbaric frame which will hedgein the whole--the barbaric frame in all truth, since it is graduallyclosing in on us on every side until, like some mediaeval torture-room, we may have the very life crushed out of us by a cruel pressure. Butenough of fine phrases; while there is time let me write something. 

Peking is at least two thousand years old. Several hundred yearsbefore Christ, they say a Chinese kingdom made the present site thecapital, and began building the outer walls; but the Chinese, thegentler Chinese who had all military spirit crushed out of them fivethousand years before by having to tramp from Mesopotamia to wherethey now are in the eighteen provinces, these Chinese, I say, neverhad in Peking anything but a temporary trysting-place. For Pekingstands for a sort of blatant barbarianism, mounted on sturdy ponies, pouring in from the far North; and the history of Peking can only besaid to begin when Mongol-Tartars, who have always been freebootersand robbers, forced their way in and imposed their militarism on anation of shopkeepers and collectors of taxes. 

Even before the Christian era, the Chinese chronicles tell of thepressure of these fierce barbarians from the North being so much feltand their raids so constant, that Chi Huang-ti, the ruler of thepowerful Chinese feudatory state which laid the foundations of thepresent Empire of China, began to build the Great Wall of China and tofortify old Peking as the only means of stopping these living waves. The Great Wall took ages to build, for the Northern barbarians alwayskept cunningly slipping round the uncompleted ends, and the Mings, thelast purely Chinese sovereigns to reign in Peking, actually addedthree hundred miles to this colossal structure in the year 1547, ornearly two thousand years after the first bricks had been cemented. That shows you what people they were, and what the contest was. 

For hundreds of years the war with the semi-nomadic hordes of theNorth continued. Sometimes isolated bands of Tartars broke through theChinese defence and enslaved the people, but never for very long;instinctively by the use of every stratagem the cleverer Chinesecompassed their destruction. While Attila and his Huns were ravagingEurope in the fifth century, other _Hwingnoo_, or Huns, veritablescourges of God, forced their way into China. In this fashion, whileChina itself was passing through a dozen different forms ofgovernment, and had a dozen capitals--sometimes owning allegiance to asingle Emperor such as those of the T'ang dynasty who added Canton andthe Cantonese to the Empire, sometimes split into petty kingdoms suchas the "Ten States"--this curious frontier war continued and washanded down from father to son. Chinese industrialism and socialism, content to accept whatever form of government Chinese strong mensucceeded in imposing, instinctively kept up an iron resistance tothese Northern invaders. Such was the fear inspired, that a proverbcoined thousands of years ago is still current. "Do not fear the cockfrom the South, but the wolf from the North, " it says. Everybody isalways quoting this saying. I have heard it twice to-day. 

It was not until the tenth century that the Tartars finally brokethrough and established themselves definitively on Chinese soil. TheKhitans, a Manchu-Tartar people, springing from Central Manchuria, then captured Peking and made it their capital. The Khitans were acheerful people, with a peculiar sense of humour and a still greaterconviction of the inferiority of women. To show their contempt forthem, it is still recorded that they used to slit the back of theirwives and drink their blood to give them strength. For two and a halfcenturies the Khitans, under the style of the Liao or Iron dynasty, maintained their position by the use of the sword, and then succumbingto the sapping influence of Chinese civilisation, they in turn wereunable to resist a second Manchu-Mongol horde, the Kins. The Kins, under the style of the Silver dynasty, reigned in Northern China for aterm of years, but there was nothing of a permanent character in theirrule, since they were uncouth barbarians who soon drank themselves todeath and destruction. 

At the beginning of the thirteenth century Genghis Khan, the greatMongol, born in the bleak Hsing-an Mountains, gathered together allthe restless bands of Mongolia, and sweeping down on Peking drove outthe Kins and established the purely Mongol dynasty of the Yuan. Uptill then Peking had consisted of what is to-day the Chinese city, orthe older outer city. Kublai Khan, Genghis's grandson, fixed hisresidence definitively in Peking in 1264, and began building the_Ta-tu_, or Great Residence--the Tartar city of to-day. The Chinesecity is oblong; the Tartar city is squat and square and overlaps anddominates the northern walls of the older city. Kublai Khan, bybuilding the Tartar city on the northern edge of the Chinese city andfortifying it with immense strength, may be said to have fitted thespear-head on to the Chinese shaft, and to have given the key-note tothe policy which exists to this day--the policy of the North of Chinadominating the South of China. 

In time the Yuan dynasty of Mongols passed away--their strength sappedby confinement to walled cities because their power was only on thetented field. Ser Marco Polo, that audacious traveller, never tires oftelling of the magnificence of the Mongol Khans and their resplendentcourts. It requires no Marco Polo to assure us that the thirteenthcentury of the Far East was immeasurably in advance of the thirteenthcentury of Europe. The vast and magnificent works which remain to thisday, weather-beaten though they be; the fierce reds, the wonderfulgreens, the boldness and size of everything, speak to us of an agewhich knew of mighty conquests of all Asia by invincible Mongolhorsemen. .. . 

The Mongols were succeeded by the Mings--a purely Chinese house; butthe Mings, in some terror of the rough North, since for over fourcenturies Tartars or Manchu-Mongols had been the overlords of China, discreetly established their capital on the Yangtsze and called itNanking, or the Southern capital. It was only the third Emperor of theMings who dared to remove the court to Peking. His choice was ill madefor his dynasty, since a century and a half had hardly passed beforefresh hordes--the modern Manchus--began to gather strength in themountains and valleys to the northeast of Moukden. Fightingstubbornly, Nurhachu, the founder of this new enterprise, steadilybroke through Chinese resistance in the Liaotung, then a Chineseprovince colonised from Chihli, and slowly but surely reached outtowards Peking, the goal which beckons to everyone. The Great Wall, built eighteen hundred years before as a protection against otherbarbarians of the same stock, stopped Nurhachu a hundred times, andalthough he captured Moukden and made it a Manchu capital, he diedworn out by half a century of warfare. His son, Tai Tsung, or TienTsung, nothing daunted, took up the struggle, and finding itimpossible to break through the fortifications of the East, nearShan-hai-kwan, adopted Genghis Khan's route--the passes leading infrom the great grassy plains of Mongolia many hundreds of miles to theWest. Allying himself by marriage with Mongols, the Manchu monarchbegan a series of grand raids through their territory in the directionof Peking. Once he actually reached Peking and sat down in front ofits mighty walls to besiege it. But he found his strength unequal tothe task, and once more was forced to retire. Then this second Manchuprince died, and was succeeded by a tiny grandson of five. The regentappointed by the Manchu nobles owed his final success to the fact thathe was called in by the Chinese generals commanding the covetedShan-hai-kwan gates to rescue Peking from the hands of Chineseinsurgents, who had everywhere arisen; and in 1644, after seventyyears of warfare, the Manchus seated themselves on the Dragon Throne, in defiance of the wishes of the people, but backed up by a vastconcourse of Manchus and Mongols, and half the fierce blades ofEastern Asia. 

The history of all these centuries of warfare is eloquently written onall the buildings, the fortifications, the monuments, the palaces andtemples of Peking which surround us. Peking is the Delhi of China, andthe grave of warlike barbarians. Four separate times have Tartarsbroken in and founded dynasties, and four separate times have Chineseculture and civilisation sapped rugged strength, and made the rulersthe _de facto_ servants of the ceremonious inhabitants. In the Tartarcity there are Yellow Lama temples, with hundreds of bare-pated lamapriests, the results of Buddhist Concordats guaranteeing Thibetansemi-independence in return for a tacit acknowledgment of Chinesesuzerainty. Near the Palace walls is a Mongolian Superintendency, where the Mongol hordes still grazing their herds and their flocks onthe grassy plains of high Asia, as they have done for countlesscenturies, are divided up into Banners, or military divisions, showingthe enormous strength in irregular cavalry they possessed two hundredand fifty years ago. Round the Forbidden City are the Six Boards andthe Nine Ministries, the outward signs of those bonds of etiquetteand procedure which bind the Manchu Throne to the eighteen provinces. The walls of the Tartar city heave up fifty feet in the air, and areforty feet thick. The circumference of the outer ring offortifications is over twenty miles. Each gate is surmounted by asquare three-storied tower or pagoda, vast and imposing. Round thecity and through the city run century-old canals and moats withwater-gates shutting down with cruel iron prongs. In the Chinese citythe two Temples of Heaven and Agriculture raise their altars to theskies, invoking the help of the deities for this decaying but proudChinese Empire. Think of the millions of dead hands that fashionedsuch enormous strength and old-time magnificence! On the corner of theTartar Wall is the old Jesuit Observatory with beautifuldragon-adorned instruments of bronze given by a Louis of France. Thereare temples with yellow-gowned or grey-gowned priests in theirhundreds founded in the times of Kublai Khan. There are Mohammedanmosques, with Chinese muezzins in blue turbans on feast days; Manchupalaces with vermillion-red pillars and archways and green and goldceilings. There are unending lines of camels plodding slowly in fromthe Western deserts laden with all manner of merchandise; there arecurious palanquins slung between two mules and escorted by sword-armedmen that have journeyed all the way from Shansi and Kansu, which are athousand miles away; a Mongol market with bare-pated and long-coatedMongols hawking venison and other products of their chase; comelySoochow harlots with reeking native scents rising from their hair;water-carriers and barbers from sturdy Shantung; cooks from epicureanCanton; bankers from Shansi--the whole Empire of China sending itsbest to its old-world barbaric capital, which has now no strength. 

And right in the centre of it all is the Forbidden City, enclosingwith its high pink walls the palaces which are full of warm-bloodedManchu concubines, sleek eunuchs who speak in wheedling tones, and isalways hot with intrigue. At the gates of the Palace lounge bow andjingal-armed Imperial guards. Inside is the Son of Heaven himself, theEmperor imprisoned in his own Palace by the Empress Mother, who is asmasterful as any man who ever lived. .. . 

I beg you, do you begin to see something of Peking and to understandthe eleven miserable little Legations, each with its own particularideas and intrigues, but crouching all together under the Tarter Walland tremblingly awaiting with mock assurance the bursting of thisstorm? If you are so good as to see this you will realise thewonderful stage effects, the fierce Mediaevalism in senile decay, thesuperb distances, the red dust from the Gobi that has choked up allthe drains and tarnished all the magnificence until it is no moremagnificence at all--this dust which is such a herald of the comingstorm--the new guns and pistols of Herr Krupp and the camels of thedeserts and all the other things all mixed up together. .. . 

Oh, I see that we are absurd and can only be made more ridiculous bycoming events. Of course the Boxers coming in openly through the gatescannot be true, and yet--shades of Genghis Khan and all his Tartars, what is that? When I had got as far as this from all sides came atremendous blaring of barbaric trumpets--those long brass trumpetsthat can make one's blood curdle horribly, a blaring which has nowupset everything I was about to write and also my inkpot. I rushedout to inquire; it was only a portion of the Manchu Peking Field Forcemarching home, but the sounds have unsettled us all again, and in thetumult of one's emotions one does not know what to believe and what tofear. Everything seems a little impossible and absurd, especially whatI am now writing from hour to hour. 

VIII

SOME INCIDENTS AND THE ONE MAN

12th June, 1900. 

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Even the British Legation--"the stoical, sceptical, ill-informedBritish Legation, " as S---- of the American Legation calls it--iswringing its hands with annoyance, and were it Italian, and thereforedramatically articulate, its curses and _maladette_ would ascend tothe very heavens in a menacing cloud like our Peking dust. For onEngland we have all been waiting because of an ancient prestige; andEngland, everyone says, is mainly responsible for our present plight. Everybody is lowering at England and the British Legation alongLegation Street, because S---- was not sent for two weeks ago, and thelanguage of the minor missions, who could not possibly expect toreceive protecting guards unless they swam all the way from Europe, issulphurous. They ask with much reason why we do not lead eventsinstead of being lead by them; why are we so foolish, so confident. What has happened to justify all this, you will ask? Well, permit meto speak. 

The day before yesterday several Englishmen rode down to the Machiapurailway station, which is just outside the Chinese city, and is ourPeking station, to welcome, as they thought, Admiral S---- and hisreinforcements, so despairingly telegraphed for by the BritishLegation just fourteen days later than should have been done. Theirpassage to the station was unmarked by incidents, excepting that theynoted with apprehension the thickly clustering tents of Kansu soldieryin the open spaces fronting the vast Temples of Heaven andAgriculture. Once the station was reached a weary wait began, withnothing to relieve the tedium, for the vast crowds which usuallysurround the "fire-cart stopping-place, " to translate the vernacular, all had disappeared, and in place of the former noisiness there wasnothing but silence. 

At last, somewhat downcast, our Englishmen were forced to returnwithout a word of news, passing into the Chinese city when it wasalmost dusk. Alas! the Kansu soldiery, after the manner of allCelestials, were taking the air in the twilight; and no sooner didthey spy the hated foreigner than hoots and curses rose louder andlouder. The horsemen quickened their pace, stones flew, and had it notbeen for the presence of mind of one man they would have been torn topieces. They left the great main street of the outer city in atremendous uproar and seemed glad to be back among friends. 

Yesterday, the 11th, it seemed absolutely certain S---- would arrive, since he must have left Tientsin on the 10th, and it is only ninetymiles by rail. The Legations wished to despatch a messenger, but theKansu soldiery on those open spaces were not attractive, and nobodywas very anxious to brave them. Who was to go? No sooner was itmentioned in the Japanese Legation than, of course, a Japanese wasfound ready to go; in fact, several Japanese almost came to blows onthe subject. Sugiyama, the _chancelier_, somehow managed to prove thathe had the best right, and go he did, but never to return. 

It was dark before his carter turned up in Legation Street, coveredwith dust and bespattered with blood, while I happened to be there. Itwas an ugly story he unfolded, and it is hardly good to tell it. Onthe open spaces facing the supplicating altars of Heaven andAgriculture this little Japanese, Sugiyama, met his death in a horridway. The Kansu soldiery were waiting for more cursed foreigners toappear, and this time they had their arms with them and weredetermined to have blood. So they killed the Japanese brutally whilehe shielded himself with his small hands. They hacked off all hislimbs, barbarians that they are, decapitated him, then mutilated hisbody. It now lies half-buried where it was smitten down. The carterwho drove him was eloquent as only Orientals can be when tragedyflings their customary reserve aside: "May my tongue be torn out if Iscatter falsehoods, " he said again and again, using the customaryphrase, as he showed how it all happened. And late into the night hewas still reciting his story to fresh crowds of listeners, who gapedwith terror and astonishment. Squatting in a great Peking courtyard onhis hams and calling on the unseen powers to tear out his tongue if helied, he was a figure of some moment, this Peking carter, for thosethat thought; for everybody realises that we are now caught and cannotbe driven out. .. . 

This was the 11th. On the 12th, the day was still more startling, forsomehow the shadow which has been lurking so near us seems to havebeen thrown more forward and become more intense. The hero of theaffair is the one really brave man among our chiefs, of course--theBaron von K----, the Kaiser's Minister to the Court of Peking. 

The Baron is no stranger in Peking, although he has been here but atwelvemonth in his new capacity as Minister. Fifteen years ago hishandsome face charmed more than one fair lady in the old pre-politicalsituation days, when there was plenty of time for picnics andlove-making. Then he was only an irresponsible attache; now he is hereas a very full-blooded plenipotentiary, with the burden of a specialGerman political mission in China, bequeathed him by his pompous andmannerless predecessor, Baron von H----, to support. But a man is thepresent German Minister if there was ever one, and it was in the newlymacadamised Legation Street that the incident I am about to relateoccurred. 

Walking out in the morning, the German Minister saw one of theordinary hooded Peking carts trotting carelessly along, with the muleall ears, because the carter was urging him along with many digs nearthe tail. But it was not the cart, nor the carter, nor yet the mule, which attracted His Excellency's immediate attention, but thepassenger seated on the customary place of the off-shaft. For a momentBaron von K---- could not believe his eyes. It was nothing less than afull-fledged Boxer with his hair tied up in red cloth, red ribbonsround his wrists and ankles, and a flaming red girdle tightening hisloose white tunic; and, to cap all, the man was audaciously and calmlysharpening a big carver knife on his boots! It was sublime insolence, riding down Legation Street like this in the full glare of day, with aknife and regalia proclaiming the dawn of Boxerism in the Capital ofCapitals, and withal, was a very ugly sign. What did K---- do--go homeand invite some one to write a despatch for him to his governmentdeprecating the growth of the Boxer movement, and the impossibilityof carrying out conciliatory instructions, as some of his colleagues, including my own chief, would have done? Not a bit of it! He tiltedfull at the man with his walking stick, and before he could escape hadbeaten a regular roll of kettledrums on his hide. Then the Boxer, after a short struggle, abandoned his knife, and ran with somefleetness of foot into a neighbouring lane. The gallant GermanMinister raised the hue and cry, and then discovered yet another Boxerinside the cart, whom he duly secured by falling on top of him; andthis last one was handed over to his own Legation Guards. The fugitivewas followed into Prince Su's grounds, which run right through theLegation area, and there cornered in a house. The mysterious Dr. M----then suddenly appeared on the scenes and insisted upon searching theManchu Prince's entire grounds and most private apartments. But timewas wasted in _pourparlers_, and in spite of a minute inspection, which extended even to the concubine apartments, the Boxer vanished insome mysterious way like a breath, and is even now untraced. Thisshows us conclusively that there are accomplices right in our midst. 

No sooner had this incident occurred and been bandied round withsundry exaggerations, than the life of the Legations and thenondescripts who have been coming in from the country became moreabnormal than ever. For in spite of our extraordinary position, evenup to to-day we were attempting to work--that is, writing three linesof a despatch, and then rushing madly out to hear the latest news. Nownot so much as one word is written, and our eleven Legations areopenly terribly perturbed in body and mind and conscious of theirintense impotence, although we have all the so-called resources ofdiplomacy still at our command, and we are officially still on thefriendliest terms with the Chinese Government. 

This morning, the 12th, there was another commotion--this time inCustoms Street, as it is called. Three more Boxers, armed with swordsand followed by a crowd of loafers, fearful but curious, ran rapidlypast the Post Office, which faces the Customs Inspectorate, and gotinto a small temple a few hundred feet away, where they began theirincantations. It was decided to attack them only with riding-whips, soas to avoid drawing first blood. But when a party of us arrived, wecould not get into their retreat, as they had barricaded themselvesin. So marines and sailors were requisitioned with axes; after a lotof exhausting work it was discovered that the birds had flown. Thiswas another proof that there is treachery among friendly natives, forwithout help these Boxers could never have escaped. 

And now imagine our excitement and general perturbation. Since the 8thor 9th, I really forget which date, we have been acting on a more orless preconcerted plan--that is, as far as our defences are concerned, as we have been quite cut off from the outer world. The commanders ofthe British, American, German, French, Italian, Russian, Austrian andJapanese detachments have met and conferred--each carefully instructedby his own Minister just how far he is to acquiesce in his colleagues'proposals, which is, roughly speaking, not at all. We can have noeffective council of war thus, because there is no commander-in-chief, and everybody is a claimant to the post. There is first an Austriancaptain of a man-of-war lying off the Taku bar, who was merely up inPeking on a pleasure trip when he was caught by the storm, but thishas not hindered him taking over command of the Austrian sailors fromthe lieutenant who brought them up; and everybody knows that a captainin the navy ranks with a colonel in the army. There are no militarymen in Peking excepting three captains of British marines, oneJapanese lieutenant-colonel and his aide-de-camp, and some unimportantmilitary attaches, who are very junior. So on paper the command shouldlie between two men--the Austrian naval captain and the Japaneselieutenant-colonel. But, then, the Japanese have instructions tofollow the British lead, and the senior British marine captain hasorders to follow, his own ideas, and his own ideas do not fancy theunattached Austrian captain of a man-of-war. So the concerted plan ofdefence has only been evolved very suddenly, a plan which has resolveditself naturally into each detachment-commander holding his ownLegation as long as he could, and being vaguely linked to hisneighbour by picquets of two or three men. But about this you willunderstand more later on. The point I wish you now to realise is thatthe counsels of the allied countries of Europe in the persons of theirLegation Guards' commanders are as effective as those of very juvenilekindergartens. Everybody is intensely jealous of everybody else anddetermined not to give way on the question of the supreme command. Ofcourse, if the storm comes suddenly, without any warning, we aredoomed, because you cannot hold an area a mile square with a lot ofmen who are fighting among themselves, and who have fallen too quicklyinto our miserably petty Peking scheme of things. 

IX

THE COMING OF THE BOXERS

14th June, 1900. 

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I had risen yesterday some what late in the day with the oddness anduncomfortableness--I do not mean discomfort--which comes from too muchboots, too much disturbance of one's ordinary routine, too muchlistening to people airing their opinions and recounting rumours, and, last of all, very wearied by the uncustomary task of transporting aterrible battery of hand artillery (for we are at last all heavilyarmed); and consequent of these varied things, I, like everybody else, was a good deal out of temper and rather sick of it all. I began toask myself this question: Were we really playing an immense comedy, orwas there a great and terrible peril menacing us? I could never getbeyond asking the question. I could not think sanely long enough forthe answer. 

The day passed slowly, and very late in the afternoon, when some of ushad completed a tour of the Legations, and looked at their variouspicquets, I finished up at the Austrian Legation and the CustomsStreet. Men were everywhere sitting about, idly watching the dusty anddeserted streets, half hoping that something was going to happenshortly, when suddenly there was a shout and a fierce running of feet. Something had happened. 

We all jumped up as if we had been shot, for we had been sitting verydemocratically on the sidewalk, and round the corner, running withthe speed of the scared, came a youthful English postal carrier. Thatwas all at first. 

But behind him were Chinese, and ponies and carts ridden or drivenwith recklessness that was amazing. The English youth had startedgasping exclamations as he ran in, and tried to fetch his breath, whenfrom the back of the Austrian Legation came a rapid roll of musketry. Austrian marines, who were spread-eagled along the roofs of theirLegation residences, and on the top of the high surrounding wall, hadevidently caught sight of the edge of an advancing storm, and werefiring fiercely. We seized our rifles--everybody has been armed_cap-a-pie_ for days--and in a disorderly crowd we ran down to the endof the great wall surrounding the Austrian compounds to view the broadstreet which runs towards the city gates. The firing ceased assuddenly as it had begun, and in its place arose a perfect storm ofdistant roaring and shouting. Soon we could see flames shooting up notmore than half a mile from where we stood; but the intervening housesand trees, the din and the excitement, coupled with the stern order ofan Austrian officer, shouted from the top of an outhouse, not to moveas their machine-gun was coming into action over our heads, made itimpossible for us to understand or move forward. What was it?

Presently somebody trotted up from behind us on a pony, and, waitinghis opportunity, rode into the open, and with considerable skillseized a fleeing Chinaman by the neck. This prisoner was dragged inmore dead than alive with fear, and he told us that all he knew wasthat as he had passed into the Tartar city through the Ha-ta Gate aquarter of an hour before, myriads of Boxers--those were hiswords--armed with swords and spears, and with their red sashes andinsignia openly worn, had rushed into the Tartar city from the Chinesecity, slashing and stabbing at everyone indiscriminately. Theforeigners' guns had caught them, he said, and dusted them badly, andthey were now running towards the north, setting fire to chapels andchurches, and any evidences of the European they could find. He knewnothing more. We let our prisoner go, and no sooner had he disappearedthan fresh waves of fugitives appeared sobbing and weeping withexcitement. The Boxers, deflected from the Legation quarter, werespreading rapidly down the Ha-ta Great Street which runs due north, and everybody was fleeing west past our quarter. Never have I seensuch fast galloping and driving in the Peking streets; never would Ihave believed that small-footed women, of whom there are a goodlynumber even in the large-footed Manchu city, could get so nimbly overthe ground. Everybody was panic-stricken and distraught, and we coulddo nothing but look on. They went on running, running, running. Thenthe waves of men, women and animals disappeared as suddenly as theyhad come, and the roads became once again silent and deserted. Faraway the din of the Boxers could still be heard, and flames shootingup to the skies now marked their track; but of the dreaded menthemselves we had not seen a single one. 

We had now time to breathe, and to run round making inquiries. Wefound the Italian picquet at the Ha-ta end of Legation Street nearlymad with excitement; the men were crimson and shouting at one another. But there was nothing new to learn. Bands of Boxers had passed theItalian line only eighty or a hundred yards off, and a number of darkspots on the ground testified to some slaughter by small-bore Mausers. They had been given a taste of our guns, that was all; and, fearingthe worst, every able-bodied man in the Legations fell in at theprearranged posts and waited for fresh developments. 

At eight o'clock, while we were hurriedly eating some food, word waspassed that fires to the north and east were recommencing with renewedvigour. The Boxers, having passed two miles of neutral territory, hadreached the belt of abandoned foreign houses and grounds belonging tothe foreign Customs, to missionaries, and to some other people. Pillaging and burning and unopposed, they were spreading everywhere. Flames were now leaping up from a dozen different quarters, everhigher and higher. The night was inky black, and these points of fire, gathering strength as their progress was unchecked, soon met andformed a vast line of flame half a mile long. There is nothing whichcan make such a splendid but fearful spectacle as fire at night. Thewind, which had been blowing gently from the north, veered to theeast, as if the god's wished us to realise our plight; and on thebreeze leading towards the Legations, some sound of the vast tumultand excitement was wafted to us. The whole city seemed now to be alivewith hoarse noises, which spoke of the force of disorder unloosed. Orders for every man to stand by and for reinforcements to be massednear the Austrian quarter were issued, and impatient, yet impotent, wewaited the upshot of it all. Chinese officialdom gave no sign; not asingle word did or could the Chinese Government dare to send us. Wewere abandoned to our own resources, as was inevitable. 

Suddenly a tremor passed over all who were watching the brilliantscene. The flames, which till then had been confined to a broad beltat least three thousand yards from our eastern picquets, began leapingup a mile nearer. The Boxers, having destroyed all the foreign housesin the Tsung-li Yamen quarter, were advancing up rapidly on the TungT'ang--the Roman Catholic Eastern Cathedral, which was but fifteenminutes' walk from our lines. We knew that hundreds of nativeChristians lived around the cathedral, and that as soon as their liveswere threatened they would at once seek refuge in their church, and weknew, also, what that would mean. 

The roar increased in vigour, and then hundreds of torches, dancinglike will-o'-the-wisps in front of our straining eyes, appeared fardown the Wang-ta, or so-called Customs Street, which separates SirR---- H----'s Inspectorate from the Austrian Legation. They were lessthan a thousand yards away. The Boxers, casting discretion to thewinds, appeared to be once more advancing on the Legations. But thencame a shout from the Austrian Legation, some hoarse cries in gutturalGerman, and the big gates of the Legation were thrown open near us. The night was inky black, and you could see nothing. A confusedbanging of feet followed, then some more orders, and with a rattlingof gun-wheels a machine-gun was run out and planted in the very centreof the street. 

"At two thousand yards, " sang out the naval lieutenant unexpectedlyand jarringly as we stood watching, "slow fire. "

I was surprised at such decision. _Tang, tang, tang, tang, tang_, spatthe machine-gun in the black night, now rasping out bullets at therate of three hundred a minute, as the gunner under the excitement ofthe hour and his surroundings forgot his instructions, now steadyingto a slow second fire. This was something like a counter-excitement;we were beginning to speak at last. We were delighted. It was not somuch the gun reports which thrilled us as the resonant echoes which, crackling like very dry fagots in a fierce fire as the bullets speddown the long, straight street, made us realise their destroyingpower. Have you ever heard a high-velocity machine-gun firing downdeserted and gloomy thorough-fares? It crackles all over your body inelectrical shocks as powerful as those of a galvanic battery; itstimulates the brain as nothing else can do; it is extraordinary. 

The will-o'-the-wisp torches had stopped dancing forward now, butstill they remained there, quite inexplicable in their fixity. Weimagined that our five minutes' bombardment must have carried deathand destruction to everyone and everything. And yet what did thismean? The flames, which had been licking round near the cathedral, suddenly burst up in a great pillar of fire. That was the answer; thecathedral was at last alight. At this we all gave a howl of rage, forwe knew what that meant. The picquets had been mysteriously reinforcedby Frenchmen, Englishmen, and men of half a dozen other nationalities, all chattering together in all the languages of Europe. "_Que faire, que faire_, " somebody kept bawling. "Get your damned gun out of theway, " shouted other angry voices, "and let us charge the beggars. " ButCaptain T----, the Austrian commander, was already conferring with adear colleague whom he had discovered in the dark. Even in this stormof excitement the protocol could not be forgotten. Marines, sailors, and Legation juniors groaned; was this opportunity to be missed? Atlast they arranged it; it should be a charge of volunteers. 

"Volunteers to the front, " shouted somebody. Everybody sprang forwardlike one man. A French squad was already fixing bayonets noisily andexcusing their rattle and cursing on account of the dark; theAustrians had deployed and were already advancing. _"Pas de charge, "_called a French middy. Somebody started tootling a bugle, andhelter-skelter we were off down the street, with fixed bayonets andloaded magazines, a veritable massacre for ourselves in the dark. .. . 

The charge blew itself out in less than four hundred yards, and wepulled up panting, swearing and laughing. Somebody had stuck some oneelse through the seat of the trousers, and the some one else wasmaking a horrid noise about this trivial detail. Some rifles had alsogone off by themselves, how, why and at whom no one would explain. Avery fine night counter-attack we were, and the rear was the safestplace. Yet that run did us good. It was like a good drink of strongwine. 

But we had now reached the first torches and understood why theyremained stationary. The Boxers, met by the Austrian machine-gun, hadstuck them in long lines along the edge of the raised driving road, and had then sneaked back quietly in the dark. Every minute weexpected to have our progress checked by the dead bodies of those wehad slain, but not a corpse could you see. The Austrian commander wasnow once again holding a council of war, and this time he urged aprompt retreat. We had certainly lost touch with our own lines, andfor all we knew we might suddenly be greeted with a volley from ourown people coming out to reinforce us. Our commanders wobbled thisway and that for a few minutes, but then, goaded by the generaldesire, we pushed forward again, with a common movement, withoutorders this time. We moved more slowly, firing heavily at every shadowalong the sides of the road. Here it seemed more black than ever, forthe spluttering torches, which cast a dim light on the raised roaditself, left the neighbouring houses in an impenetrable gloom. Wholebattalions of Boxers could have lurked there unmarked by us; perhapsthey were only waiting until they could safely cut us off. It was veryuncanny. 

In front of us the flames of the burning Roman Catholic Cathedral rosehigher and higher, and the shouts and roars, becoming ever fiercer andfiercer, could be plainly heard. Just then a Frenchman stumbled with amuttered oath, and, bending down, jumped back with a cry of alarm. Athis feet lay a native woman trussed tightly with ropes, with her bodyalready half-charred and reeking with kerosene, but still alive andmoaning faintly. The Boxers, inhuman brutes, had caught her, set fireto her, and then flung her on the road to light their way. She was thefirst victim of their rage we had as yet come across. That made usfeel like savages. We were now not more than three hundred yards fromthe cathedral, and in the light of the flames, which were now burningmore brightly than ever, we could see hundreds of figures dancingabout busily. We had just halted to prepare for a final charge whensomething moved in front of us. "Halt, " we all cried, marking ourdifferent nationalities by our different intonations of the word. Asobbing Chinese voice called back to us: "_Wo pu shih; wo pu shih_, "which merely means, "I am not, " leaving us to infer that he wasreferring to the Boxers; and then without waiting for an answer thenight wanderer, whoever he might be, scampered away hurriedly. Theimmediate result was that we opened a terrible fusillade in thedirection he had fled, our men firing at least a hundred shots. Manymocking voices then called back to us from the shadows. There waslaughter, too. It was obviously hopeless trying to do anything in thisdark; so when a bugler trotted up from our lines with stern ordersfrom the French commandant for his men to retire, we all stumbled backmore than willingly We had gone out of our depth. 

Meanwhile the flames spread farther and farther, until half the Tartarcity seemed on fire. All Peking awoke, and from every part confusednoises and a vast barking of dogs was borne down on us. What courseshould we take, if the attack was suddenly carried all round our area?

The French Minister was by this time officially informed that nativeCatholics were being butchered wholesale; that there were plenty ofmen who were willing to go and rescue them, but that no one seemed tohave any orders, and that everyone was swearing at the generalincompetence. Absolute confusion reigned within our lines; thepicquets broke away from their posts; the different nationalitiesfraternised under the excitement of the hour and lost themselves; andit would have been child's play to have rushed the whole Legationarea. We felt that clearly enough. 

It was not until well past midnight, and after several heateddiscussions, that a relief party was finally organised; but when theygot to the cathedral there was hardly anything to see, for thebutchery was nearly over and the ruin completed. Several hundrednative Roman Catholics had disappeared, only a few Boxers were seenand shot and a few converts rescued. 

How well I remember the scene when this second expedition returned, excited and garrulous as only Frenchmen can be. The French Ministerled them in. He explained to us that the Boxers had already absolutelydemolished everything--that it was no use risking one's self so farfrom one's own lines any more--that it was a terrible business, but_que faire_. .. . The French Minister did not hurry away, but stoodthere talking endlessly. It was at once dramatic and absurd. Sir R----H----, in company with many others, stood listening, however, with anawestruck expression on his face. He carried a somewhat formidablearmament--at least two large Colt revolvers strapped on to his thinbody, and possibly a third stowed away in his hip pocket. Frommidnight to the small hours there was a constant stream of our mostdistinguished personages coming and looking down this street andwondering what would happen next. It was not a very valiant spectacle. 

In this curious fashion the memorable night of the 12th passed away, with sometimes one picquet firing, sometimes another, and witheverybody waiting wearily for the morning. We had almost lost interestby that time. 

At half-past four the pink light began chasing away the gloom; theshadows lightened, and day at last broke. At six o'clock nativerefugees from the foreign houses that had been burned came slinkingsilently in with white faces and trembling hands, all quite brokendown by terrible experiences. One gate-keeper, whose case wastragically unique, had lost everything and everybody belonging tohim, and was weeping in a curious Chinese way, without tears andwithout much contortion of features, but persistently, without anybreak or intermission, in a somewhat terrifying fashion. His wife, sixchildren, his father and mother, and a number of relations had allbeen burned alive--thirteen in all. They had been driven into theflames with spears. Moaning like a sick dog, and making us all feelcowardly because we had not attempted a rescue, the man sought refugein an outhouse. Sir R---- H---- was still standing at his post, looking terribly old and hardly less distressed than the wretchedfugitives pouring in. His old offices and residences, where fortyyears before he had painfully begun a life-long work, were all stampedout of existence, and the iron had entered into his soul. A number ofthe officers commanding detachments, and people belonging to variousLegations, attempted to glean details as to the strength of the Boxerdetachments from these survivors, but nobody could give anyinformation worth having. I noticed that no Ministers came; they wereall in bed!

At eight o'clock, still afoot, we heard that there was a deuce of arow going on at the Ha-ta Gate, because it was still locked and thekey was gone. It now transpired that a party of volunteers, led by theSwiss hotel-keeper of the place and his wife, had marched down to thegate after the Boxers had rushed in, had locked it, and taken the keyhome to bed, so that no one else could pay us their attentions fromthis quarter. This is the simplest and the most sensible thing whichhas been yet done, and it shows how we will have to take the law intoour own hands if we are to survive. 

In this fashion the Boxers were ushered in on us. Most of us keptawake until ten or eleven in the morning for fear that by sleeping wemight miss some incidents. But even the Boxers had apparently becometired, for there was not a sign of a disturbance after midnight. Inspite of the quiet, however, the streets remain absolutely deserted, and we have no means of knowing what is going to happen next. 

X

BARRICADES AND RELIEFS

16th June, 1900. 

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We have entered quite naturally in these unnatural times on a newphase of existence. It is the time of barricades and punitiveexpeditions; of the Legations tardily bestirring themselves in theirown defence, and realising that they must try and forget their privatepolitics if they are even to live, not to say one day to resume theirvarious rivalries and animosities. Imperceptibly we are being impelledto take action; we must do something. 

We woke up late on the 14th to the fact that loopholed barricades hadbeen everywhere begun on our streets, as effective bars to the inrushof savage torch-bearing desperadoes, each Legation doing its own work;and that the Chinese Government, with its likes and dislikes, wouldhave to be seriously and cynically disregarded if we wished topreserve the breath of life. So barricades have been going up on allsides, excepting near the British Legation, where the sameindifference and sloth, which have so greatly contributed to this_impasse_, still remain undisturbed. Near the Austrian, French, American, Italian and Russian Legations barricade-builders are atwork, capturing stray Peking carts, turning them over and filling themfull of bricks. So quickly has the work been pushed on, that in someplaces there are already loopholed walls three feet thick stretchingacross our streets, and so cleverly constructed that carts can stillpass in and out without great difficulty. We are still on speakingterms with the Chinese Government, but who knows what the morrow maybring?

But although you may have gathered some idea of the general aspect ofPeking from what I have written, it is more than probable that youhave no clear conception of the Legation quarter and what thisbarricading means. It seems certain that we will have to fight someone in time, so I will try and explain. 

Legation Street, or the _Chiao Min hsiang_, to give it the nativeappellation, runs parallel to the Tartar Wall. Beginning at the westend of the street--that is, the end nearest the Imperial City and thegreat Ch'ien Men Gate--the Legations run as follows: Dutch, American, Russian, German, Spanish, Japanese, French, Italian. Of the elevenLegations, therefore, eight are in the one street, some on one side, some on the other; some adjoining one another, with their enormouscompounds actually meeting, others standing more or less alone withnests of Chinese houses in between. Apart from the eight Legations, there are a number of other buildings belonging to Europeans in thisstreet, such as banks, the club, the hotel, and a few stores andnondescript houses. Taking the remaining three Legations, the Belgianis hopelessly far away beyond the Ha-ta Gate line; the Austrian is twohundred yards down a side street on which is also the CustomsInspectorate; and, finally, the British is at the back of the otherLegations--that is, to the north of the south Tartar Wall. The extentof this Legation and its sheltered position make it a sort of naturalsanctuary for all non-combatants, since it is masked on two sides bythe other Legations, and is only really exposed on two sides, thenorth and the west. Already many missionaries and nondescripts havebeen coming in and claiming protection, and in the natural course ofevents it must become the central base of any defence. Everyone seesand acknowledges that. 

At the two ends of Legation Street, the western Russo-American end andthe eastern Italian end, heavy barricades have already gone up. TheDutch Legation, lying beyond the Russian and American Legations atthis west end of the street, being without any guards and protectors, will, therefore, have to be abandoned immediately there is a rush fromthe Ch'ien Men Gate. The Belgian Legation is naturally untenable, andwill also have to be sacrificed. The Austrian Legation is likewise alittle too far away; but for the time being a triple line ofbarricades have gone up, having been constructed along the roadbetween this Legation and the Customs inspectorate. To-day, the 16th, carts are no more to be seen on these streets; foot traffic islikewise almost at an end. There is a tacit understanding thateverybody must act on the defensive. 

Also every Chinaman passing our barricades is forced to providehimself with a pass, which shows clearly his reason for wanderingabroad in times like this. There has already been trouble on thisscore, for our system has had no proper trial. .. . 

Since the 14th and that dreadful first Boxer night, we have begun totake affairs a good deal into our own hands, and have attempted tostrike blows at this growing movement, which remains so unexplained, whenever an occasion warranted it--that is, those of us who have anyspirit. Thus, on the afternoon of the 14th, Baron von K---- took aparty of his marines on top of the Tartar Wall, pointed out to them aparty of Boxer recruits openly drilling below on the sandy stretch, and gave orders to fire without a moment's hesitation. So the Germanrifles cracked off, and the sands were spotted with about twenty deadand dying. This action of the German Minister's at once created animmense controversy. The timid Ministers unhesitatingly condemned theaction; all those who understand that you must prick an ulcer with alancet instead of pegging at it with despatch-pens, as nearly all ourchiefs have been doing, approved and began to follow the example set. This is the only way to act when the time for action comes in theEast, and the net result is that we have been unendingly busy. Therehave been expeditions, raids, and native Christians pouring in anddemanding sanctuary within our lines. One story is worth telling, asshowing how we are being forced to act. 

Word came to us suddenly that the Boxers had caught a lot of nativeChristians, and had taken them to a temple where they were engaged intorturing them with a refinement of cruelty. One of our leaderscollected a few marines and some volunteers, marched out andsurrounded the temple and captured everybody red-handed. The Boxerswere given short shrift--those that had their insignia on; but in thesorting-out process it was impossible to tell everybody right at firstsight. Christians and Boxers were all of them gory with the bloodwhich had flown from the torturing and brutalities that had been goingon; so the Christians were told to line up against the wall of thetemple to facilitate the summary execution in progress. Then a bigfellow rushed out of a corner, yelling, "I have received the faith. "Our leader looked at the man with a critical eye, and then said to himin his quietest tones, "Stand up against the wall. " The Boxer stood upand a revolver belched the top of his head off. With that quickness ofeye for which he is distinguished, our leader had seen a few redthreads hanging below the fellow's tunic. The man, as he fell with acry, disclosed his sash underneath. He was a Boxer chief. At leastthirty men were killed here. 

But it was at the Western Roman Catholic Cathedral that the mostexciting times up till now have been had, for there, as at the othercathedral, the Boxers have been at work. The first relief expeditionwent out during the night--that is, last night. Headed by some onefrom the French Legation, the expedition managed to bring in all thepriests and nuns attached to the cathedral mission. Old Fatherd'A----, a charming Italian priest, was the most important manrescued. After having been forty years here, he surveys the presentscenes of devastation and pillage with the remark, "_En Chine il n'y ani Chretiens ni civilisation. Ce ne sont la que des phrases_. " That iswhat he said. 

This morning a second relief corps, containing the most miscellaneouselements, tramped away stolidly in the direction of the still smokingcathedral ruins in the hopes of saving some more unfortunates, and ourexpectations were soon realised. After a walk of a mile and a half, werounded a corner with the sound of much wailing on all sides, and ransuddenly full tilt into at least two or three dozen Boxers, who havebeen allowed to do exactly as they like for days. There was a fiercescuffle, for we were down on them in a wild rush before they could getaway, and they showed some fight. I marked down one man and drove anold sword at his chest. The fellow howled frightfully, and just as Iwas going to despatch him, a French sailor saved me the trouble bystretching him out with a resounding thump on the head from his Lebelrifle. The Boxer curled over like a sick worm and expired. There wasnot much time, however, to take stock of such minor incidents as theslaying of individual men, even when one was the principal actor, foreverywhere men were running frantically in and out of houses, shoutingand screaming, and the confusion was such that no one knew what to do. The Boxers had been calmly butchering all people who seemed to them tobe Christians--had been engaged in this work for many hours--and allwere now mixed up in such a confused crowd that it was impossible todistinguish friends and foes. As they caught sight of us, many of themarauders tore off their red sashes and fell howling to the ground, inthe hope that they would be passed by. Dozens of narrow lanes roundthe ruined cathedral, which was still smoking, were full of Christianfamilies hiding in the most impossible places, and everywhere Boxersand banditti, sometimes in groups, sometimes singly, still chased themand cut them down. Numbers had already been massacred, and severallanes looked like veritable shambles. The stench of human blood in thehot June air was almost intolerable, and the sights more than we couldbear. Men, women and children lay indiscriminately heaped together, some hacked to pieces, others with their throats cut from ear to ear, some still moving, others quite motionless. 

Gradually we collected an ever-growing mob of terror stricken peoplewho had escaped this massacre. Some of the girls seemed quiteparalysed with fear; others were apparently temporarily bereft andkept on shrieking with a persistency that was maddening. A youngFrench sailor who did not look more than seventeen, and was splashedall over with blood from having fallen in one of the worst places, kept striking them two and three at a time, and cursing them in fluentBreton, in the hope of bringing them to reason. "_Eh bien, mes belles!Vous ne finissez pas_, " he ended despairingly, and rushed off again tosee whether he could find any more. 

The blood was rising to our men's heads badly by now, and I sawseveral who could stand it no longer stabbing at the few dead Boxerswe had secured. We had none of us imagined we were coming to suchscenes as these; for nobody would have believed that such brutalthings were possible. When we judged we had finished rescuing everyone alive, a man in the most pitiable condition ran out from behindthe smouldering cathedral carrying a newly severed human head ineither hand. He seemed but little abashed when he saw us, but cameforward rapidly enough towards us, glancing the while over hisshoulder. Several sailors were rushing at him with their bayonets, ready to spit him, when he fell on his knees, and, tearing open histunic, disclosed to our astonished eyes a bronze crucifix with asilver Christ hung on it. "_Je suis catholique_, " he cried to usrepeatedly and rapidly in fair French, and the sailors stayed theircold steel until we had extracted an explication. Then it transpiredthat he had used this horrible device to escape the notice of someBoxers who were still at work in a street on the other side of thecathedral. We ran round promptly on hearing this, and caught sight ofa few fellows stripped to the waist, and gory with blood as I havenever seen men before. Instead of fleeing, they met our charge withresolution, and one tall fellow put me in considerable danger of mylife with a long spear, finally escaping before we could shoot himdown. 

On this side the ruins of the cathedral were covered with corpsesburned black from the heat of the flames and exposure to the sun. Onewoman, by some freak of nature, had her arms poised above her head asshe sat dead, shrivelled almost beyond human recognition. It wasprobable that the Boxers had pitched many of their victims alive intothe flames and driven them back with their swords and spears wheneverthey attempted to escape. .. . 

At last we got away with everybody who was still alive, as far as wecould judge. Tramping back slowly and painfully, the rescued lookedthe most pitiable concourse I have ever seen. Somehow it was exactlylike that eloquent picture in "Michael Serogoff, " showing the crowdsof Siberian prisoners being driven away by Feofar Khan's Tartars afterthe capture of Omsk. Among our people there were the same oldgranddames, wrinkled and white haired, supporting themselves withcrooked sticks and hobbling painfully on their mutilated feet; thesame mothers with their children sucking their breasts; the samelittle boys and little girls laden with a few miserable rags; the sameable-bodied men carrying the food they had saved. The older peoplegazed straight in front of them with the stolid despair of thefatalist East, and did not utter a word. A woman who had given birthto a child the very night before was being carried on a single plankslung on ropes, with a green-white pallor of death on her features. Ihave never taken part in such a remarkable procession as this. 

Thus bloodstained and very weary we finally reached our Legationquarter, and once again the energy and resolution of Dr. M----expressed themselves. The grounds of the Su wang-fu, belonging to theManchu prince Su, where the first Boxer we had openly seen had soughtrefuge a few days previously, were commandeered by him, and by eveningnearly a thousand Catholic refugees were crowded into its precincts. All day people were labouring to bring in rice and food for theirpeople, and camp-fires were soon built at which they could cook theirmeals. Several of the _chefs de mission_ were again much alarmed atthis action of ours in openly rescuing Chinese simply because theywere doubtful co-religionists. They say that this action will make uspay dearly with our own lives; that the Legations will be attacked;that we cannot possibly defend ourselves against the numbers whichwill be brought to bear against us; that we are fools. Perhaps we are, but still there is some comfort in discovering that this nest ofdiplomacy still contains a few men. 

Meanwhile there is not a word of news from S----, and there areindications that our despatches to the Chinese Government, which arebeing sent from every Legation more and more urgently, are hardlyread. The situation is becoming more and more impossible, and ourservants say it is useless bringing in any news, as there is suchconfusion in the Palace that nobody knows anything reliable. 

XI

SOME MEN AND THINGS

16th June, 1900. 

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No developments have taken place during the past few hours. So farvery few men have been conspicuous; and as it is these few who havebrought about the only developments, and outlined our position, andthat they are to-day all terribly tired, we have absolute monotony. Ihave not heard what the German Minister has been doing, but it isrumoured that he is engaged in trying to re-establish communicationwith Tientsin and the sea by bribing the Tsung-li Yamen smallerofficials to take down packets of his despatches by pony-express. Itseems doubtful whether this will succeed. For all communication hasabsolutely ceased now, and the Customs postal carriers say that it isimpossible to get through by any stratagem, as all the roads areswarming with Boxers and banditti. The Chinese Government, in its fewdespatches to some of the Legations, is clearly temporising and tryingto save itself. There is no means of knowing what is going on insidethe Palace, or of understanding what the Empress Dowager has decided. Everybody says it is all topsy-turvydom now in the capital, and thatthe most extraordinary reports are coming in from the provinces. OurChinese despatch writers, our Manchu servants, and the few natives whocome through our barricaded streets, all say the same thing--that itis too soon to speak, but that the dangers are enormous. Meanwhile themore timid of these people attached to the Legation area are sendingword that they are sick and cannot come any more. It is a polite wayof saying that they are afraid. I do not blame them, since anythingnow is possible. You cannot surely ask men to sacrifice themselveswhen they are only bound to you by the hire system. Such is theexternal and general situation. 

Within our own quarter things are much the same, developing naturallyalong the line of least resistance. 

Now that Prince Su's palace grounds have been openly converted into aRoman Catholic sanctuary, hundreds of converts are pouring in on usfrom everywhere, laden with their pots and pans, their beds, and theirbundles of rice; indeed, carrying every imaginable thing. The greatNorthern Cathedral and Monseigneur F---- are in no danger, for thetime being at least, since the cathedral and its extensive grounds aresurrounded by powerful walls and the bishop has now got his fiftyguards and possibly a couple of thousand young native Catholics, whocan probably be armed and fight. So although it seems as if the wholeRoman Catholic population of Peking is pouring in on us, we are inreality only getting a few hundred miserables who had no time to flyto their chief priest when the storm caught them; we have to preparefor the worst, as everything is developing very slowly. 

Even in this matter of Chinese refugees the attitude of our foolishLegations is rather inexplicable. Actually up to within a few days agosome of the Ministers were still resolutely refusing to entertain theidea that native Christians--men who have been estranged from theirown countrymen and marked as pariahs because they have listened to thewhite man's gospel--could be brought within the Legation area. Inconsequence of this hardly any Chinese Protestants have as yet comein. Of course circumstance, the force of example, and a timidity inthe face of the growing irritation, have at length broken down thisweak-kneed attitude, but people have not yet finished discussing it. For instance, there is a remarkable story about the well-known S----, who wrote that celebrated book, "Chinese Characteristics. " He turnedup at the British Legation late one evening, long before the Boxersentered the Tartar city, and brought positive proof that unless S----was hurried in we would all be murdered by a conspiracy headed by themost powerful men. S---- was kept waiting for an hour, and then toldthat no time could be spared to see him as everybody was busy writingdespatches! This is indeed our whole situation expressed in a trivialincident; all the plenipotentiaries are trying to save their positionsand their careers by violent despatch-writing at the eleventh hour. They know perfectly well that it is they alone who are responsible forthe present _impasse_, and that even if they come out alive they areall hopelessly compromised. Young O---- told me that in their Legationthey were actually antedating their despatches so as to be on the safeside! This shows how absolutely inexcusable has been the whole policyfor three entire weeks. 

We do not know what is going on around us; we do not know of what thePeking Court is thinking; we do not know by whom S---- has beenstopped. We know nothing now excepting that we are gradually butsurely getting so dirty that our tempers cannot but be vile. Onenever realises how great a part soap and water play in one's scheme ofthings until times like these. With upturned Peking carts blocking theingresses to our quarter; with everything disgruntled and out oforder; with native Christians crowding in on us, sensible heathenservants bolting as hard as they can, ice running short, we, theeleven Legations of Peking, await with some fear and trepidation andan ever-increasing discomfort our various fates under the shadow ofthe gloomy Tartar Wall. What is to be the next thing? I could possiblyimagine and write something about this were I not so tired. 

XII

HELL HOUNDS

Night, 17th June 1900. 

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It is past twelve o'clock at night, but in spite of the late hour andmy fatigue--I have been dead tired for a week now--I am writing thiswith the greatest ease, my pen gliding, as it were, over a surface ofice-like slippiness, although my fingers are all blistered from manualwork. Why, you will ask? Well, simply because my imagination is afire, and taking complete control of such minor things as the nerves andmuscles of my right arm, my eyes and my general person, it speeds mealong with astonishing celerity. Let your imagination be aflame andyou can do anything. .. . 

It began last night. No sooner had the gates which pierce the TartarWall been closed by the Imperial guards, who still remain openlyfaithful to their duties, than there arose such a shouting and roaringas I have never heard before and never thought possible. It was theBoxers. The first time the Boxers had rushed in on us, it was throughthe Ha-ta Gate to the east of the Legations. Last night, after havingfor three days toured the Tartar city pillaging, looting, burning andslaying, with their progress quite unchecked except for those fewhundred rifle shots of our own, the major part of the Boxerfraternity, to whom had joined themselves all the many rapscallions ofPeking, found themselves in the Chinese or outer city after dark, andconsequently debarred from coming near their legitimate prey. (Thegates are still always closed as before. ) Somebody must have told themthat they could do as they liked with Christians and Europeans; for, mad with rage, they began shouting and roaring in chorus two singlewords, "_Sha-shao, "_ kill and burn, in an ever-increasing crescendo. Ihave heard a very big mass of Russian soldiery give a roar of welcometo the Czar some years ago, a roar which rose in a very extraordinarymanner to the empyrean; but never have I heard such a blood-curdlingvolume of sound, such a vast bellowing as began then and there, andwent on persistently, hour after hour, without ever a break, in amaddening sort of way which filled one with evil thoughts. Sometimesfor a few moments the sound sank imperceptibly lower and lower andseemed making ready to stop. Then reinforced by fresh thousands ofthroats, doubtless wetted by copious drafts of _samshu_, it grew againsuddenly, rising stronger and stronger, hoarser and hoarser, moreinsane and more possessed, until the tympanums of our ears were sotortured that they seemed fit to burst. Could walls and gates havefallen by mere will and throat power, ours of Peking would haveclattered down Jericho-like. Our womenfolk were frozen withhorror--the very sailors and marines muttered that this was not to bewar, but an Inferno of Dante with fresh horrors. You could feelinstinctively that if these men got in they would tear us from thescabbards of our limbs. It was pitch dark, too, and in the gloom thetowers and battlements of the Tartar Wall loomed up so menacingly thatthey, too, seemed ready to fall in and crush us. 

For possibly three or four hours this insane demonstration proceededapace. The Manchu guards listened gloomily and curiously from theinside of the gates, but made no attempt to open them, but theyequally refused sullenly to parley with a strong body of sailors andvolunteers we sent with instructions to shoot any one attempting tounlock the barriers. Yet it was evident that the guards had receivedspecial instructions, and that the gates would not be handed over tothe mob. 

A few minutes before midnight the sounds became more sullen, andbeneath the general uproar another note, one of those in distress, began, as it were, like an undercurrent to this pandemonium. The causewe had not long to seek, for presently flames began to shoot up, asight we were by now well accustomed to, though not in this purelytrading quarter of the city. The fire, started with savage disregardin the very centre of the most densely populated street of the Chinesecity, spread with terrible rapidity. Soon both sides of Ch'ien Mengreat street, just on the other side of the Tartar Wall, wereenveloped in raging flames, and a lurid light, growing ever brighterand brighter, turned the dark night into an unnatural day. 

Between the incendiaries and ourselves the great Tartar Wall stoodfirm, but though this ancient defence against other barbarians was aneffective protection for us, it could not long remain immune itself. The _lou_, or square pagoda-like tower facing the Chinese city side, caught some of the thousands and tens of thousands of sparks flyingskywards, and it was not long before the vast pile was burning asfiercely as the rest. The great rafters of Burmese teak, brought byMongol Khans six centuries before to Peking, were as dry as tinderwith the dryness of ages; and thus almost before we had noted thatthe bottom of the tower was well alight the flames were shootingthrough the roof and out through the hundreds of little square windowswhich in olden days were lined by archers. Higher and higher theflames leaped, until the top of the longest tongues of fire, pouringout through a funnel of brick, was hundreds of feet above the groundlevel. Only Vereschagin could have done justice to this holocaust; Ihave never seen anything so barbarically splendid. 

Meanwhile below this in the Chinese city all had become quiet, exceptfor the increasing and growing roar of the all-devouring flames. TheBoxers, as if appalled by their own handiwork and the mournful sightof the capital in flames, had retreated into their haunts and had leftthe unfortunate townfolk to battle with this disaster as they could. From the top of the wall, which I hastily climbed as soon as Iobtained permission to leave my post, thousands and tens of thousandsof figures could be seen moving hurriedly about laden withmerchandise, which they were attempting to save. Busy as ants, thesewonderful Chinese traders were rescuing as much of their investedcapital from the very embrace of the flames as they could at a momentwhen the Boxer patriots, menacing and killing them with sword andspears as _san mao-tzu, _ or third-class barbarians who sold the cursedforeigners' stuffs and products, had hardly disappeared. 

Yet it seemed vain, indeed, to talk of salvage with half the city inflames, for other fires now began mysteriously in other places, which"lighted" the horizon. "_Tout Pekin brule_, " muttered a French sailorto me as I passed back to my post, and his careless remark made methink that this was the Commune and Sansculottism intermixed--theends of two centuries tumbled together--because we foreigners hadupset the equilibrium of the Far East with our importunities and ourcovetousness of the Yellow Man's possessions. .. . 

And what of S----, what of the Peking Government--what is everybody inthe outside world doing--the distant world of which we have sosuddenly lost all trace, while we are passing through such times? Wedo not know; we have no idea; we have almost forgotten to think aboutit. S---- was heard of twice some days ago from Langfang, a stationonly forty miles from Peking, but why he does not advance, why thereis this intolerable delay, we do not know. The Peking Government isstill decreeing and counter-decreeing night and day according to theGovernment Gazettes. The Ministers of our eleven Legations are meetingone another almost hourly, and are eternally discussing, but are doingnothing else. We have blocked our roads with barricades and providedour servants and dependents with passes written in English, French, German, Italian, Russian and Chinese--so that everyone canunderstand. We are now sick of such a multitude of languages and wishall the world spoken Volapuk. 

Thus with our rescued native Christians, our few butchered Boxers, ourscore and more of fires lighting the whole of the horizon, here in themiddle of the night of the 16th of June we are no further forward inour political situation than we were two and a half weeks ago, whenour Legation Guards arrived, and we esteemed ourselves so secure. Twoand a half weeks ago! It seems at least two and a half months; butthat is merely the direct fault of having to live nearly twice theproper number of hours in twenty-four. 

XIII

A FEW CRUMBS

18th June, 1900. 

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It has just transpired that Hsu Tung, an infamous Manchu highofficial, who has been the Emperor's tutor, and whose house isactually on Legation Street some fifty yards inside the lines of theItalian Legation, has been allowed to pass out of our barricadedquarter, going quite openly in his blue and red official chair. Thisis a terrible mistake which we may pay for dearly. 

Hsu Tung is a scoundrel who is at least thorough in his convictions asfar as we are concerned. It is he who has long been boasting--and allPeking has been repeating his boast--that in the near future he isgoing to line his sedan chair with the hides of foreign devils andfill his harem with their women; and it is he, above all other men, who should have been seized by us, held as hostage, and shot out ofhand the very moment the Chinese Government gives its open officialsanction to this insane Boxer policy. Had we acted in this way andtaken charge of a number of other high officials who live just aroundus, we might have shown the trembling government that a day ofretribution is certain to come. And yet listen what happened. Eitheron the 15th or 16th Hsu Tung sent the majordomo of his householdcringing to the French Legation for a _passepartout_. He had alreadytried once to escape by way of the Italian barricades, but had beensternly ordered back, and his house placed under watch. Somehow, through the foolishness of an interpreter of the French Legation, hegot his safe-conduct pass, and started out bold as brass in themorning, seated in his official chair and accompanied by his officialoutriders. He passed a first French barricade and reached an outersecond barrier manned by volunteers, who challenged him roughly andthen refused to let him pass. 

The outriders then tried to ride our men down, and it needed arifle-shot to bring them to their senses. Fortunately nobody was hurt, and presently the youthful volunteers had Hsu Tung himself out of thechair, and kept him seated on the ground while they debated whetherthey should respect the French pass or strap the great man up and sendhim to their own quarters as a prisoner of war. 

In the end, however, one of the secretaries came up and inquired whatit all meant, and then, of course, weak counsels prevailed, and HsuTung was allowed to sneak off unmolested down a side lane. 

This incident is typical as showing the stamp of men who havecommanding voices in our beleagued quarter. 

God help us if any considerable force is sent against us, for we cannever help ourselves. Every proper-minded young man is a naturalsoldier methinks, even in Anno Domini 1900, but every elderly personin the same year of grace is quite valueless--that is what we havealready discovered. 

And yet even to-day all the senior people in our Legation area--thosewho are our guides and mentors--though they be secretly much alarmed, are comforting themselves with a great deal of garrulous talk becausea letter has arrived from Tientsin--in fact, several letters havearrived. This is the first reliable news we have had for many days, and everybody seems now to imagine that we are safe. The chief item inthese fateful missives seems to be that the Roman Catholic Cathedralat Tientsin has also been burned; that this was accompanied bymassacres of native converts; and that the riverine port is swarmingwith Boxers. And there is no news of S----, no news of anything good. What has become of him we cannot imagine. Yet Ministers, secretaries, and elderly nondescripts are somewhat relieved, and go about nervouslysmiling in a very ridiculous way. No one can quite make out why theyare relieved, excepting perhaps, that they are delighted to find thatthe visible world still exists elsewhere, and goes on revolving on itsown axis in spite of our dilemma. Why should the obvious be so oftendiscovered?

Our poor Legation Guards and their commanding officers, with whom wewere so pleased a fortnight ago, are quite as crushed as everyoneelse now--perhaps even more. You see the rank and file are merely acrowd of uneducated sailors, who have not yet made head or tail ofwhat all this Peking _bouleversement_ means. They were suddenlyentrained and rushed up to Peking many days ago; they arrived in thedark; they were crammed into their respective Legations as quickly aspossible; they have done a little patrol and picquet work on thestreets, and have stood expectantly behind barricades which they weretold to erect; but otherwise they are as completely at sea again as ifthey were back to their ships. .. . In all the clouds of dust and smokearound them, how can they understand? It is true I have rather agrudge against some persons of the Legation defenders as yet unknown, and think of them perhaps a little angrily, for, like all soldiery, they loot. They have already taken my field-glasses, an excellentrevolver, and several other things during the confusion of the nights. Of course this is the fortune of war, as all old campaigners will tellyou, but a more decent interval should have been allowed to elapsebefore beginning the inevitable stripping process. .. . 

As for the detachment officers, some of them are very good fellows andsome of them are not; but already they have each of them instinctivelyadopted the old attitude of the Legations towards one another. Theyare mutually suspicious. The detachment officers are also considerablytired and in very bad tempers, for the night has been turned into daywith a regularity which cannot leave anybody very happy. Then dirt isaccumulating, too, sad truth; and in the East you cannot feel dirty inthe summer and be happy. That is quite impossible. .. . 

Thus we are all in a very grunting frame of mind. The British Legationappears to be at length hopelessly crowded with perspiringmissionaries of all denominations and creeds, who have suddenly comein from beyond the barricades. Life must be quite impossible there. The novelty of this experience has been worn off, and I for one wouldwelcome any change, either for better or worse. So long as it is onlya change. .. . 

XIV

THE ULTIMATUM

19th June, 1900. 

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How foolish we can be! Only last night I was bewailing the dulness andthe dirt of it all, and the general absurdity and discomfort, and nowwithout one qualm I confess I would willingly exchange yesterday'suncertainty for to-day's certainty--that we are all going to be madeinto mincemeat. But I do not even feel serious or desperate now; ithas got beyond that. 

I do not know at what hour the ultimatum came to-day; it may have beeneleven in the morning or one in the afternoon; but one thing I do knowis, that here, at four in the afternoon, the great majority of onethousand Europeans are shaking, absolutely distraught. It is evidenttherefrom that there is something impressive and demoralising to mostpeople in the idea of finality, and that on the threshold of thetwentieth century, courage, since it is seldom dealt in, is hardly agreat living force. It makes one realise, too, that with all theirfaults, the aristocrats of France, who, a hundred years ago, werecondemned to the shameful death of the guillotine and went in theirtumbrils through streets filled with cursing crowds of sansculottes, with scorn and contempt written on their features, were ratherexceptional people. Things have changed since then, and the so-calledAmericanisation of the world has not conduced to gallantry. Fortunateare we that there is no white man's audience to watch us impassively, and to witness the effects of this bombshell of an ultimatum which hascome to-day. There is nothing so humiliating as abject fear. Curiouslyenough, the women bear it much better than the elder men, who areopenly distraught; and when I say women, I mean all the women, boththose belonging to the Legations and the dozens of missionary womenwho have crowded in. Nearly everyone of them is better than theelderly men; at least, they try and say nothing so as not to add tothe terrible confusion. .. . 

But the ultimatum--what is it, and against whom is it so summarilydirected? Briefly the ultimatum is a neat-looking document written onstriped Chinese despatch-paper, and comes from the Tsung-li Yamen, oroffice charged with the overseeing of "the outside nations'affairs"--which are the affairs of Europe. After very brieflyreferring to a demand made by the allied admirals for a surrender ofthe Taku forts off the muddy bar of the Tientsin River--about which weknow nothing--it goes on to say that as China can no longer protectthe Legations, the Legations will have to protect themselves byleaving Peking within twenty-four hours, dating from to-day at fouro'clock. That is all. Not another word. Yet in other words thisdocument means this: that the demand of the admirals must have beenrefused; that they would not have made it unless something disastroushad happened to S---- and to Tientsin; that acts of war have alreadybeen committed, and that it will be no longer a Boxer affair, but agovernment affair. This makes our position desperate enough in alltruth. There is to be war. .. . The ultimatum was conveyed to theeleven Legations and the Inspectorate-General of Foreign Customs intwelve neat red envelopes by trembling _t'ing ch'ai_ of the ChineseGovernment, and in spite of some attempt at first to hide its contentswas soon known by everyone. The twelve copies, indeed, were exactlyalike, twelve bombshells, which, bursting in twelve different parts ofour barricaded quarter, finally united their fumes until we were allfairly suffocated. For we have either got to flee now or be butchered. Mechanically all eyes were turned at once to the chiefs of the elevenmissions to China, who have brought things to such a pass, andeverybody demanded frantically that something should be done. Peoplelost control themselves and behaved insanely. It was not long beforethe whole diplomatic body met--in a terrible gloom--at the Legation ofthe Spanish Minister, who is the _doyen_ of the Corps, and soon atremendous discussion was raging. There were mutual recriminations, and proposal after proposal was taken up and rejected as being toodangerous. Nobody had for a moment dreamed that such a menace wouldcome so swiftly. Expectant crowds soon gathered round the gates of theSpanish Legation, and attempted to find out what was being decided, but the only thing I could learn was that brave Von K---- proposed atonce that the Ministers should go in a body to the Yamen and force theChinese Government to agree to an armistice. This was vetoed by all, of course, and one gentleman openly wept at the idea. In the end, atseven o'clock, when it was nearly dark, a joint Note was prepared, saying that the Ministers could only accept the demand made on themand prepare to leave Peking at once, but that twenty-four hours wastoo short a notice in which to pack their trunks, and that, besides, they must have some guarantees as to the ninety miles road toTientsin, which were so swarming with bandits that communication hadbeen completely interrupted. That is to say, the Ministers wereprepared to accept. .. . 

No sooner had this weak reply been despatched than a fresh wave ofconsternation passed over the whole Legation quarter, for we nownumber nearly a thousand white people in all, and we could never marchthat distance to Tientsin unbroken. But beneath that wave ofconsternation a fiercer note steadily rose--the note of revolt againstthe decrees of eleven men. I cannot describe to you what an intensityof passion was suddenly revealed. Muttering first, this revolt becamequite open and almost unanimous. All of us would have a fair fightbehind barricades and entrenchments, but no massacre of a long, unending convoy. For picture to yourself what this convoy would becrawling out of giant Peking in carts, on ponies and afoot, if it wereforced to go; we would be a thousand white people with a vast trail ofnative Christians following us, and calling on us not to abandon themand their children. Do you think we could run ahead, while a cowardlymassacre by Boxers and savage soldiery was hourly thinning out thestragglers and defenceless people in the rear? Never!

Hardly anybody thought of eating all that long evening. Most of uswere trying to find out whether some sensible understanding could notbe arrived at; whether we could not prepare before it was too late. But it was quite in vain to plan anything or attempt to think ofanything. Everything was so topsy-turvy, everybody so panic-stricken. 

But as the night grew later and later, some people began busyingthemselves packing boxes, still deluding themselves that they weregoing to leave comfortably on the morrow as if nothing had happened. Yet the world is really upside down as far as we are concerned, and itis quite absolutely impossible that the situation should end sonormally as to find us quietly retreating down the Tientsin road. Others kept sending out servants to discover at what price carts wouldundertake to drive the whole way down to the sea, or at least toTientsin. Forty, fifty, and even one hundred taels were demanded forthree days' work; and then, although the carters said they would comeif the government sends proper escorts of soldiers as has beenpromised, Heaven only knows if they will ever dare to move near ourstricken quarter. Still in some Legations they ordered fifty carts atany price, with the most lavish promises of reward for those thatcould manage to secure them. All the official servants soon came backtrembling, saying that they had found a few carts, but that it was _puyi t'ing_--not at all sure whether the carters would dare to move whendaylight came. For the whole city is already in a fresh uproar; peopleare flying in every direction in the night. Stories come in ofofficials who have been pulled out of their chairs and forced to_K'et'ou_ to Boxers to show their respect to the new power. PrinceTuan has been appointed President of the Tsung-li Yamen, high Manchushave been placed in charge of the Boxer commands, and rice is beingissued to them from the Imperial granaries. There is no end to thetales that now come in, since everybody has understood that there isno need for concealment and that there is going to be some sort ofwar. At two o'clock I even began to get news of what the EmpressDowager had been doing, and how the Boxer partisans had become sostrong that it was absolutely impossible to hope for anything but theworst. 

Once when I got some details which I thought of importance, I tried tofind my chief in order to communicate it to him. But he was lost inthe middle of the night, conferring unofficially with some of hiscolleagues; and I could but feel immensely amused when in his office Isaw that he had been scribbling some frenzied notes on the back of acompleted despatch, dealing with one of those petty little affairswhich were so important only the other day. 

Ah, where are the dear little political situations of only a few weeksago; those safe little political situations which redounded so much tothe credit of those that made them and did not contain any of thedread elements of our present very real and terrible one! Likesoldiers who have degenerated from the chasing of mere vagabonds ofmediocre importance, so have our Peking Ministers Plenipotentiary andEnvoys Extraordinary fallen from their proud estate to mere diplomaticmake-beliefs full of wind--wind-blown from much tilting at windmills, with their Governments rescuing them Sancho Panza-like at the eleventhhour. .. . 

But though for us there is still some hope, there is very little forthe wretched native Christians quartered in the palace grounds ofPrince Su, whom we have saved from the Boxers. 

They soon heard the news, too, that the foreigner who has once savedthem is going--going away because he has been ordered to. All nightlong there was an awful panic among these people which made one'sheart sick, for they understood better than us how quickly they wouldbe massacred once they left our care. 

I shall never forget the night of the 19th of June, 1900, with all itstragedy and tragi-comedy, though I live to be a hundred. It allowed meto see something of real human nature in momentary flashes; of howmean and full of fear we really are, how small and how easilyimpressed. A hundred times I longed to have the time and the power toset down exactly so that everyone might understand the incidents andthe sudden impulses which took place--all prompted by that master ofhuman beings--FEAR. That is why we worship heroes, or we pretend weworship them, because it is the _culte_. For a moment these people whohave been set on pedestals were not afraid. Is it only the power notto be afraid which makes one a hero?

XV

THE DEBACLE BEGINS

20th June, 1900. 

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It is notorious that in moments of tension, when the mind has beenstimulated to too great an activity by unhealthy excitement, you thinkof the most curiously assorted things--in fact, of absurd things whichare quite out of place. I have been thinking the whole time ofsomething very stupid which is only fiction: That a Zulu, namedUmslopagas, rode and ran one hundred miles in a single night and thenrefreshed himself sufficiently by a couple of hours' sleep to deliverbattle with such vigour at the head of a marble staircase, that hesaved the haggard hero. That is what I have been thinking of. .. . 

We of Peking are, unfortunately, not of the mettle of Zulus, and asfar as I am personally concerned, three hours' sleep is but theappetite-giver for five hours more. And so on this fateful 20th June, with the time limit of our ultimatum expiring at four o'clock, I gotup in no sort of valorous spirit, and with the feeling that tragediesoutside the theatre--at least those that spin themselves out for anindefinite number of days--are quite impossible for us Moderns. But, then, probably everybody has always thought the same thing--even thosewho lived before the Renaissance. 

At eight o'clock everyone was once more afoot, although most havehardly had a wink of sleep. All over our Legation quarter, dusty anddirty men, unwashed and unbathed, now squatted along the edge of thestreets, hanging their weary heads against their rifles, with theirfaces very white from too much sentry-go and too little sleep. Thereis little distinction between sailors and Legation people, for we areall in the same dilemma. On this eventful 20th of June, instead ofbeing resolute and alert, everybody is merely tired and weakened by acouple of weeks' watchfulness against Boxers during an unofficialsemi-siege, a state of affairs which has quite unfitted us for freshstrains. Yet beyond our barricades of upturned carts and stolenbuilding-bricks all was quiet and peaceful, and hardly a thing moves. It seemed as if we had been only dreaming. .. . Wandering down beyondthe eastern end of Legation Street, which gives you the most view ofthe mysterious world around the great Ha-ta Street, which the Boxershave conquered, indeed you find everything practically deserted, thepeople having learned that it is best to stay indoors until thiscrisis is solved in some manner. Occasionally a rag-picker, or somehumble person so little separated from the life hereafter that to pusha trifle closer does not spell much peril, can be seen hooking up ragsand whatnots from the piles of Peking offal. If you speak to him hegives an unintelligent _pu chih tao_--"I do not know"--and movesboorishly on. As my old Chinese writer said a week ago, Peking hasnever been in such a state of topsy-turvydom since the robber whounseated the Ming dynasty rushed in two and a half centuries ago. .. . 

Going on top of the great Tartar Wall and gazing down on the scene ofdevastation and ruin beyond the Ch'ien Men Gate, one can hardlybelieve one's eyes, for where there was once a mighty bustle one nowsees thousands of houses with nothing but their walls standing andcharred timbers strewing the grounds. The great burned tower whichblazed so wondrously a few nights ago is still half standing, itsmighty brickwork too powerful and too proud to succumb totally to theflames' destroying energy. Gaunt and hollow-eyed, the old Tartar towersurveys the scene somewhat contemptuously, as if saying that the pigmymen of to-day are far removed from the paladins of old and theirworks. .. . 

Quiet and perfectly silent it all looks--but below the tower, and, indeed, on all sides as far as the eyes can see, some search showslittle ants of men are at work in the ruins--not moving much, butbobbing up and down with unending energy and regularity. They are thebeggars of Peking in their hundreds and thousands salving what theycan from all this immense destruction by poking deep holes into theruins and pulling out all manner of things from under the mass ofbricks and rubbish. In the conserving hands of the Chinaman nothing isever irremediably destroyed. .. . 

Looking far to the east, even the Ha-ta Gate, where no harm has beendone, does not show much movement. The carts passing in and out arevery few and far between, and the dust which in ordinary times floatsabove the din and roar of the gates in heavy clouds is to-dayseemingly absent. Even our Peking dust is awed by the approachingstorm and nestles close to Mother Earth, so that it may come to noharm. 

The more I looked the more observant I became. The sun lolling up in ared ball, the birds, twittering and flying about while the heat of theday is not severe, showed themselves in a new light; and thus the 20thJune is ushered in so complaisantly, when all the world of men appearmerely tired and watchful, that the contrast makes one wonder, and atnine o'clock once more our Ministers Plenipotentiary and our _Chargesd'Affaires_ gather their eleven estimable persons together at theLegation of the _doyen_. For yesterday's Ministerial reply agreeing tothe Manchu order to vacate the capital, if certain conditions werefulfilled, had begged for an urgent answer by nine o'clock regardingthe little counter-demands for a time-extension, and a definitearrangement concerning the Chinese troops who are to be the safeconduct along the Tientsin road. Nine o'clock has come, but alas! withit there is no neat Chinese despatch on striped paper which would sorelieve our Ministerial feelings. The Chinese Government remainsgrimly silent, for the Chinese Government has spoken plainly once, andnever within the memory of man has it done so on two consecutiveoccasions. So the eleven Ministers meet once more in anything but ahappy frame of mind--eleven sorely tried and wholly fearful persons, except for two or three who vainly try to instill some courage intothe others. All idea of completing the packing commenced last nighthas vanished; even that would demand action and resolution. A proposalto visit the Tsung-li Yamen in a body is set aside with nervousprotestations once more. The meeting thereupon became very stormy, andthe French Minister was kind enough to report afterwards that theBritish Minister became thereafter very red--_il est devenusoudainement tres rouge_, for what reason is unknown. S----, who didthe minutes afterwards, said that the French Minister volunteered togo with the others if they would proceed in a body, and became verypale at the idea, that he confessed himself. Here we have, then, ared Minister and a white Minister, and if we add those who were mostcertainly blue and green, the national flags of the entire assemblycould be fitly made up. The French Minister, although simply a_citoyen_ sent by the Republic to intrigue in times of peace, and aidhis Russian colleague to the best of his ability, is a man withal, although quite unfitted _de carriere_ for wars and sieges. In theFrench Legation he has been receiving such tearful instructions fromhis wife during the past three weeks that it is a wonder he has anybackbone at all. .. . 

The meeting became stormier and stormier as it went on, S---- says, until old C---- argued that the only way to decide was to puteverything to the vote. Every vote put was promptly lost, and after anhour's haggling they had got no farther than at the beginning!

The dramatic moment came when Baron Von K---- got up and stated shortlythat as he had a previous appointment with the Tsung-li Yamen ateleven o'clock, in spite of the ultimatum and a possible state ofwar--in fact, in spite of everything--it was his intention to keep hisappointment, cost what it might. The others urged him not to go, forthey must have been feeling rather ashamed of themselves and theirovervalued lives. But K---- insisted he would go; he had said so once, and did not intend to allow the Chinese Government to say he broke anappointment through fear. 

S----, who told me the whole story a few hours afterwards, said thathe added that as soon as his own personal business was finished, hewould attend to the general question of the Legations' departure fromPeking, if the diplomatic corps would give him authority. As time waspressing they gave it to him promptly enough. I remember everythingthat happened afterwards with a very extraordinary accuracy of detail, because I had just walked past the Spanish Legation when theMinisterial meeting broke up, and I had determined to follow any movein person so as to know what our fate was to be. 

The German Minister turned into his Legation, and after a time hereappeared in his green and red official chair, with C----, thedragonman, in a similar conveyance. There were only two Chineseoutriders with them, as Von K---- had refused to take any of hisguards. I remember Von K---- was smoking and leaning his arms on thefront bar of his sedan, for all the world as if he were going on apicnic. The little _cortege_ soon turned a corner and was swallowedup. I walked out some distance beyond our barricades with Baron R----, of the Russian Legation, and we wondered how long he would take tocome back. We soon knew! How terrible that was! For not more thanfifteen minutes passed before, crashing their Manchu riding-sticksterror-stricken on to their ponies' hides, the two outriders appearedalone in a mad gallop and nearly rode us down. Through the barricadesthey passed, yelling desperately. It was impossible to understand whatthey were saying, but disaster was written in the air. 

At this we started running after these two men, but when we reachedthe corner of the French Legation the people there had alreadyunderstood, and said the German Minister had been shot down and wasstone-dead. Everybody was paralysed. 

Meanwhile the outriders had reached the German Legation and had flungthemselves, disordered, from their sweating ponies. The men of theLegation Guard were swarming round them and questioning them roughlywhen I came up, but there was nothing further to be learned about VonK----. A shot had passed through his chair and he had never movedagain, while other shots struck all round. C----, the dragonman, dripping with blood, had run round a corner closely pursued by Chineseriflemen. What happened to him they cannot say, for they, too, wouldhave been shot had they not fled. The tragedy was so simple, but socrushing, that we all stood dazed. Our one man of character anddecision was dead--lost beyond recall!

A quarter of an hour after this half the German detachment wasmarching rapidly down Customs Street, with fixed bayonets and an airof desperation on their harsh Teutonic faces. They were determined totry and at least save the body. I thought of going with them, too, buta moment's thought told me there were other things which were now morepressing. I went and gave some attention to the contents ofdespatch-boxes which no one else had a right to see. .. . 

The detachment reached the scene of the murder led by a tremblingoutrider. Drops of blood were found on the ground; the Peking dust wasscraped this way and that, as if it had only been made an accompliceunwillingly and with a violent struggle too; but the sedan-chairs, thebearers, the murderous soldiers, and every other trace had vanishedcompletely. To question people was impossible, since everyone waskeeping closely indoors and barred entrances everywhere met the eye. The Peking streets have become so lonely and deserted that not even adog allows himself to be entrapped in the open. Later I heard thatC---- had escaped, although terribly wounded. 

The detachment tramped back stolidly, and would not answer a word whenspoken to, for German despair is very gloomy. The remainingPlenipotentiaries at last understood the nature of the game that wasbeing played, and realised that we were down to the naked and crudefacts of life and death. Their confounded vacillation has alonebrought us to this pass. They do realise it now, and they are made torealise it more and more by the savage looks everyone has been givingthem. .. . 

The departure for Tientsin half-acquiesced in but fifteen short hoursago is no longer thought of, for what the Ministers propose to do nowinterests no one. After impotently attempting to deal with questionsfor which they were in no wise fitted they have resigned themselves tothe inevitable, and have become mere pawns like the rest of us. Fortunately the men who are men begin to work with frenzied energy, rushing about collecting food and materials. S----, the firstSecretary of the American Legation, began it, and soon stood out withsome insistence. He guesses with no one contradicting him that rice isuseful, that flour is still more useful, and that every pound we canfind in the native shops should be taken. The obvious is oftensomewhat obscure in times like these, and the men who act are verylaudable. There is no denying it that on this 20th the Americansshowed more energy than anybody else, and pushed everybody to sendingout their carts and bringing in tons upon tons of food. Every shopcontaining grain was raided, payment being made in some cases and inothers postponed to a more propitious moment. The Americanmissionaries concentrated in a fortified missionary compound a coupleof miles from us, and the last people to remain outside were hastilysent for, given twenty minutes in which to pack their things, andmarched in as quickly as possible by a guard of American marines. There were seventy white men, women and children, and countless herdsof native schoolgirls and converts. Their reports were the last wegot. Vast crowds of silent people had watched them pass through theeastern Tartar city to our Legation lines without comment or withouthostility. Gloomily the Peking crowd must have watched this strangeconvoy curling its way to a safer place, the missionaries armed in adroll fashion with Remingtons and revolvers, and some of the convertscarrying pikes and carving-knives in their hands, for the Peking crowdand Peking itself has been, and is being, terrorised by the Boxers andthe Manchu extremists, and is not really allied to them--of that weall are now convinced. But C----, who was so nearly massacred, came intoo with the American missionaries. He managed somehow, after he wasshot in a deadly place, to half-run and half-crawl until he was pickedup and carried into the American missionary compound. From what Iheard, he knows nothing more about the death of the German Minister. It was only a few hours ago, and yet it already seems days!

All the non-combatants were now rushed into the British Legation, andto the women and children join themselves dozens of men, whose placeshould be in the fighting-line, but who have no idea of being there. Lines of carts conveying stores, clothing, trunks and miscellaneousbelongings were soon pouring towards the British Legation, and longbefore nightfall the spacious compounds were so crowded withimpedimenta and masses of human beings that one could hardly movethere. It was a memorable and an extraordinary sight. 

The few Chinese shops that had been until now carrying on business inour Legation quarter in spite of the semi-siege and the barricades ina furtive way, were soon quietly putting up their shutters--notentirely, but what they call three-quarters shut after the custom ontheir New Year holidays, when they are not supposed to trade, but dotrade all the same. The shop-boys, slipping their arms into their longcoats and dusting off their trousers and shoes after the Peking mannerwith their long sleeves, made one feel in a rather laughable sort ofway that finality had been reached! They had that curious half-laughon their faces which signifies an intense nervousness being politelyconcealed. Up to three o'clock these complaisant shopmen were stillselling things at a purely nominal price, which was not entered in thebooks, but quietly pocketed by them for their own benefit. Havingcompleted my own arrangements, I began idly watching their actions, they were so curious. At three o'clock sharp the last shutters wentup, the last shopman pasted a diamond-shaped Fu, or Happiness, of redpaper over the wooden bars, and vanished silently and mysteriously. Itwas for all the world once again exactly like the telegraph-operatorin "Michael Strogoff, " when the Tartars smash in the front doors ofhis office and seize the person of the hero, while the clerk coollytakes up his hat and disappears through a back door. These Chinese haddone business in the very same way, until the very last moment--thevery last. 

And not only are the few shopmen slipping away, but also numbers ofothers within our lines who had been half-imprisoned during the pastweek by our barricades and incessant patrolling. Men, women, andchildren, each with a single blue-cloth bundle tied across theirbacks containing a few belongings, slip away; gliding, as it were, rapidly across the open spaces where a shot could reach them, andscuttling down mysterious back alleys and holes in the walls, theexistence of which has been unknown to most of us. This time the ratsare leaving the sinking ship quietly and silently, for a quiet wordpassed round had informed everyone of what is coming, and no onewishes to be caught. This is the sort of silent play I love to watch. 

Just before this, however, down beyond the Austrian Legation came aflourish of hoarse-throated trumpets--those wonderful Chinesetrumpets. Blare, blare, in a half-chorus they first hang on a highnote; then suddenly tumbling an octave, they roar a bassoon-likechallenge in unison like a lot of enraged bulls. Nearer and nearer, asif challenging us with these hoarse sounds, came a large body ofsoldiery; we could distinctly see the bright cluster of banners roundthe squadron commander. Pushing through the clouds of dust whichfloated high above them, the horses and their riders appeared andskirted the edge of our square. We noted the colour of their tunicsand the blackness of the turbans. Two horsemen who dismounted for somereason, swung themselves rapidly into their saddles, carbine in hand, and galloped madly to rejoin their comrades in a very significant way. For a moment they half turned and waved their Mannlichers at us, showing their breast-circle of characters. They were the soldiers ofsavage Tung Fu-hsiang, and were going west--that is, into the Imperialcity. The manner in which they so coolly rode past fifty yards awaymust have frightened some one, for when I passed here an hour laterthe Austrian Legation and its street defences had been suddenlyabandoned by our men. We had surrendered, without striking a blow, aquarter of our ground! I remember that I was only mildly interested atthis; everything was so _bouleverse_ and curious that a little morecould not matter. It was like in a dream. Tramping back, the Austriansailors crowded into the French Legation and all round their lines andthrew themselves down. One man was so drunk from lack of sleep that hetumbled on the ground and could not be made to move again. Everybodykicked him, but he was dead-finished and could be counted out. Thiswas beginning our warfare cheerfully. 

On top of the Austrians a lot of volunteers came in at a double, veryangry, and cursing the Austrians for a retreat which was onlydiscovered by them by chance. Like so many units in war-time, thesevolunteers had been forgotten along a line of positions which couldhave been held for days. Nobody could give any explanation exceptingthat Captain T----, the Austrian commander, said that he was not goingto sacrifice his men and risk being cut off, when there was nobody incommand over the whole area. T---- was very excited, and did not seemto realise one thing of immense importance--that half our northeasterndefences have been surrendered without a shot being fired. 

At the big French barricades facing north an angry altercation soonbegan between the French and Austrian commanders. The French line ofbarricades was but the third line of defence here, and only thestreets had been fortified, not the houses; but by the Austrianretreat it had become the first, and the worn-out French sailors wouldhave hastily to do more weary fatigue-work carting more materials tostrengthen this contact point. I remember I began to get interested inthe discussion, when I found that there was an unfortified alleyleading right into the rear of this. It would be easy at night-time torush the whole line. 

Meanwhile nobody knew what was going to happen. All the Ministers, their wives and belongings, and the secretaries and nondescripts haddisappeared into the British Legation, and the sailors and thevolunteers became more and more bitter with rage. A number of youngEnglishmen belonging to the Customs volunteers began telling theFrench and Austrian sailors that we had been _trahis_, in order tomake them swear louder. I know that it was becoming funny, because itwas so absurd when . .. Bang-ping, bang-ping, came three or fourscattered shots from far down the street beyond the Austrian Legation. It was just where Tung Fu-hsiang's men had passed. That stopped ustalking, and as I took a wad of waste out of the end of my rifle Ilooked at my watch--3. 49 exactly, or eleven minutes too soon. I ranforward, pushing home the top cartridge on my clip, but I was toolate. "_A quatre-cents metres_, " L----, the French commander, called, and then a volley was loosed off down that long dusty street--ourfirst volley of the siege. 

Our barricades were full of men here, and it was no use trying to pushin. I postponed my own shooting, for after a brisk fusillade here, urgent summons came from other quarters, and I had to rush away. .. . The siege had begun in earnest. I record these things just as theyseemed to happen. We are so tired, my account cannot seem verysensible. Yet it is the truth. 

PART II--THE SIEGE

I

CHAOS

21st June, 1900. 

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I passed the night in half a dozen different places, assimilating allthere was to assimilate; gazing and noting the thousand things therewere to be seen and heard, and sleeping exactly three hours. Fewpeople would believe the extraordinary condition to which twelve hoursof chaos can reduce a large number of civilised people who have beenforced into an unnatural life. It is indeed extraordinary. Half theLegations are abandoned, excepting for a few sailors; others are beingevacuated, and most people have even none of the necessities of lifewith them. For instance, at eight o'clock I discovered that I had hadno breakfast, and on finding that it would be impossible for me to getany for some hours, I forthwith became so ravenously hungry that Idetermined I would steal some if necessary. What a position for abudding diplomatist!

Fortunately I thought of the Hotel de Pekin before I had done anythingstartling, and soon C----, the genial and energetic Swiss, who is themaster of this wonderful hostelry, had given me coffee. He told methen to go into his private rooms, ransack the place and take what Iliked. I found I was not alone in his private apartments. BaronR----, the Russian commandant, had just come in before me, and hadfallen asleep from sheer fatigue as he was in the act of eatingsomething. He looked so ridiculous lying in a chair with his mouthwide open and his sword and revolver mixed up with the things he hadbeen eating, that I began laughing loudly, and, aroused by this sound, two more men appeared suddenly--Marquis P----, the cousin of theItalian _charge_, and K----, the Dutch Minister. What they were doingthere I did not inquire. The Dutch Minister was in a frightful rage ateverything and everybody, and began talking so loudly that R---- wokeup, and commenced eating again in the most natural way in the world, without saying a single word. As soon as he had finished he went tosleep again. He was plainly a man of some character; the wholeposition was so ridiculous and yet he paid no attention. 

I soon got tired of this, as plenty of other people now came in, allcalling for food, and I was really so weary from lack of sleep andproper rest that I could not remember what they were talking about twoseconds after they had finished speaking. Most of the men were angryat the "muddle, " as they called it, and said it was hopeless going onthis way. One of the Austrian midshipmen told me that there had beenaltogether very little firing, and not more than a few dozen Chineseskirmishers engaged, but that the whole northern and eastern fronts ofour square were so imperfectly garrisoned that they could be rushed ina few minutes. Everybody agreed with him, but nobody appeared to knowwho was in supreme command, or who was responsible for a distributionof our defending forces, which would total at least six hundred orseven hundred men if every able-bodied man was forced into thefighting-line. Fortunately the Chinese Government appears to behesitating again; we have been all driven into our square and can besafely left there for the time being--that seems to be the point ofview. 

I now became anxious about a trunk containing a few valuables, which Ihad sent into the British Legation, and I determined to go in personand see how things were looking there. What confusion! I soon learnedthat it had been very gay at the British Legation during the night. Atfour o'clock of the previous afternoon, when the first shots hadalready been dropping in at the northern and eastern defences, not athing had been done in the way of barricading and sandbagging--thateverybody admitted. The flood of people coming in from the otherLegations, almost weeping and wailing, had driven them half insane. Atthe Main Gate, a majestic structure of stone and brick, a few sandbagshad actually been got together, as if suggesting that later onsomething might be done. But for the time being this Legation, whereall the women and children have rushed for safety, is quitedefenceless. Yet it has long been an understood thing that it was tobecome the general base. It was not surprising, then, that at six inthe evening yesterday a tragedy had occurred within eyesight ofeverybody at the Main Gate. A European, who afterwards turned out tobe Professor J----, of the Imperial University, an eccentric ofpronounced type, had attempted to cross the north bridge, whichconnects the extreme north of Prince Su's palace walls with a roadpassing just one hundred yards from the British Legation northernwall, and perhaps three hundred yards from the Main Gate itself. Itwas seen that the European was running, onlookers told me, and thatafter him came a Chinese brave in full war-paint, with his rifle atthe trail. Instead of charging his men down the street to save thiswretched man, the British officer, Captain W----, ordered the MainGate to be closed, and everybody to go inside except himself and hisfile of marines. He then commanded volley-firing, apparently at thepink walls of the Imperial city, which form a background to thebridge, although he might as well have ordered musical drill. Meanwhile the unfortunate J---- was caught half way across the stonebridge by some other Chinese snipers, who had been lying concealedthere all the time behind some piles of stones. He was hit severaltimes, though not killed, as several people swear they saw himcrawling down into the canal bed on his hands and knees. Volley-firingcontinued at the Main Gate, and the aforesaid British officer cursedhimself into a fever of rage over his men. Even when J---- had finallydisappeared, no steps were taken to see what had become of him; he wascalmly reported lost. This was the opening of the ball at the BritishLegation. 

No sooner was it dark than M----, the chief, appeared on the scenes, smoking a cigarette reminiscent of his Egyptian campaign, and clad inorthodox evening dress. This completed everyone's anger, but the endwas not yet. At ten in the evening a scare developed among the women, and it was decided to begin fortifying some of the more exposedpoints. Everybody who could be found was turned on to this work, butin the dark little progress could be made excepting in removing allpossibility of any one going to sleep. 

But the sublimely ridiculous was reached in an out-of-the-way buildingfacing the canal, an incident displaying even more than anything elsethe attitude of some of the _personnel_ of our missions to China. Sleeping peacefully in his nice pyjamas under a mosquito net was founda sleek official of the London Board of Works, who wanted to know whatwas meant by waking him up in the middle of the night. Investigationselsewhere found other members of this Legation asleep in their beds;everybody said the young men were all right, but those above a certainage. .. !

The night thus spent itself very uneasily. They were only learningwhat should have been known days before. 

When day broke in the British Legation things had seemed moreimpossible than ever. Orders and counter-orders came from every side;the place was choked with women, missionaries, puling children, andwhole hosts of lamb-faced converts, whose presence in such closeproximity was intolerable. Heaven only knew how the matter would end. The night before people had been only too glad to rush frantically toa place of safety; with daylight they remembered that they wereterribly uncomfortable--that this might have to go on for days or forweeks. It is very hard to die uncomfortably. I thought then thatthings would never be shaken into proper shape. 

In this wise has our siege commenced; with all the men angry anddiscontented; with no responsible head; with the one man among thosehigh-placed dead; with hundreds of converts crowding us at everyturn--in a word, with everything just the natural outcome of thevacillation and ignorance displayed during the past weeks by those whoshould have been the leaders. Fortunately, as I have already said, sofar there has been no fighting or no firing worth speaking of. Onlyalong the French and Italian barricades, facing east and north, adropping fire has continued since yesterday, and one Frenchman hasbeen shot through the head and one Austrian wounded. It is worth whilenoting, now that I think of it, that the French, the Italians, theGermans, and, of course, the Austrians, have accepted Captain T----, the cruiser captain, as their commander-in-chief, and that theJapanese have signified their willingness to do so, too, as soon asthe British and Americans do likewise. Thus already there are signsthat a pretty storm is brewing over this question of a responsiblecommander; and, of course, so long as things remain as they are atpresent, there can be no question of an adequate defence. Eachdetachment is acting independently and swearing at all the others, excepting the French and Austrians, for the good reason that as theAustrians have taken refuge in the French lines they must remainpolite. Half the officers are also at loggerheads; volunteers havebeen roaming about at will and sniping at anything they have happenedto see moving in the distance; ammunition is being wasted; there aregreat gaps in our defences, which any resolute foe could rush in fiveminutes were they so inclined; there is not a single accurate map ofthe area we have to defend!

All this I discovered in the course of the morning, and by afternoon Ihad nothing better to do than go over to the great Su wang-fu, orPrince Su's palace grounds, now filled with Chinese refugees, bothCatholic and Protestant, and there watch the Japanese at work. TheJapanese Legation is squashed in between Prince Su's palace groundsand buildings and the French Legation lines, and, consequently, to beon the outer rim of our defences the little Japanese have been shiftednorth and now hold the northeast side of our quadrilateral. Prince Su, together with his various wives and concubines and their eunuchs, hasdays ago fled inside the Imperial city, abandoning this palace withits valuables to the tender mercies of the first comers; and thus theJapanese sailor detachment, reinforced by a couple of dozen Japaneseand other volunteers, has made itself free with everything, and isholding an immense line of high walls, requiring at least five hundredmen to be made tolerably safe. But they have an extraordinary littlefellow in command, Colonel S----, the military attache. He is awkwardand stiff-legged, as are most Japanese, but he is very much inearnest, and already understands exactly what he can do and what hecannot. After a search of many hours, I found here the first evidencesof system. This little man, working quietly, is reducing things toorder, and in the few hours which have gone by since the dreadfuloccurrences of yesterday he has succeeded in attending to the thousandsmall details which demanded his attention. He is organising hisdependents into a little self-contained camp; he is making the hordesof converts come to his aid and strengthen his lines; in fact, he isdoing everything that he should do. Already I honour this little man;soon I feel I shall be his slave. 

But not only is there order within these Japanese lines; attempts arebeing made to find out what is going on beyond--that is, to discoverwhat is being done in this deserted corner of the city, which isabandoned to the European. Although all is quiet without, it is notpossible that everyone has fled, because some rifle-firing is goingon. .. . When I arrived the Japanese had already discovered that aChinese camp had been quietly established less than a quarter of amile away. Half an hour afterwards a breathless Japanese sailorbrought in a report that snipers had been seen stealthily approaching. I was just in the nick of time, as Colonel S---- immediately decided ona reconnaissance in force; any one who liked could go. Would I go?

We slipped out under command of the colonel himself and worked throughtortuous lanes down towards the abandoned Customs Inspectorate and theAustrian Legation. We reached the rear of the Customs compoundswithout a sound being heard or a living thing seen. All along hundredsof yards of twisting alleyways the native houses stood empty andsilent, abandoned by their owners just as they are. Even the Pekingdog, a cur of great ferocity, who in peaceful times abounds everywhereand is the terror of our riding-parties, had fled, as if driven awayby the fear of the coming storm. In the distance, as we stealthilymoved, we could hear an occasional rattle of musketry, probablydirected against the French Legation and the Italian barricade, whereit has been going on for twenty-four hours; but so isolated is onestreet in Peking from the rest by the high walls of the numberlesscompounds and the thick trees which intercept all sounds that we couldbe certain of nothing. Perhaps the firing was not even the enemy atwork, whoever he may be; it might be our men. .. . 

But directly in front of us all was still, and just as we thought ofstealing on, a Japanese whispered "Hush, " and pointed a warningfinger. We flattened ourselves against houses and scurried into opendoors. Suddenly it was getting exciting. Down another lane then came anoisy sound of feet, incautiously pattering on the hard ground to theaccompaniment of some raucous talk. It is the very devil in thisnetwork of lanes and blind alleys which twist round the Legations, andno force could properly patrol them. .. . 

Without any warning two men came round the corner, peering everywherewith sharp eyes and bobbing up and down. Simultaneously with the sobof surprise they gave our rifles crashed off. And this time, owing tothe short range and the Japanese warning, we got them fair and square, and both of them rolled over. But no, one fellow jumped to his feetagain, and before we could stop him was down another lane like a flashof lighting. We promptly gave chase, yelling blue murder in anincautious manner, which might have brought hundreds of the enemy onour heels. But we did not care. Round a corner, as we followed the manup, a high wall rose sheer, but nothing daunted, the fellow took atremendous leap, and by the aid of the lattice-work on a window, climbed to a roof. Then bang, bang, bang, seven shots went at himrapidly, one after another. In spite of the volley the man stillcrawled upwards, but as he reached the top of the low house and passedhis legs over he gave a feeble moan and then. .. . _flopper-ti flop, flopper-ti flop_, he crashed down the other side and ended with a dullthud on the ground. On the other side there he was dead as a door-nailand all covered with blood. It was our first proper work. But he wasnot a soldier, he was a Boxer; and in place of the former incompleteattire of red sashes and strings, this true patriot wore a long redtunic edged with blue, and had his head tied up in the regulation_bonnet rouge_ of the French Revolution. Round his waist he had alsogirded on a blue cartridge-belt of cloth, with great thick Martinibullets jammed into the thumb holes. This we thought very curious atthe time, as the Boxers were supposed to laugh at firearms. Elated bythis little affair, we pushed on, and came upon other men workinground our lines in small bands, and exchanged shots with them. Allwere Boxers in this new uniform; but although we tried to entice themon and corner them in houses, they were too cunning for us, and brokeback each time. In the end we had so stirred up this hornet's nestthat the scattered firing became more and more persistent, and sternorders came for us to fall back. 

We came in feeling elated, but Colonel S---- was looking serious, forhe had discovered that the extent of Prince Su's outer walls, whichhave to be held in their entirety, is so much greater than wasexpected, and every part can be so easily attacked from the outside, that the task is desperate. There are less than fifty men in all forthese long Japanese lines, and if we take more from elsewhere it willbe merely creating fresh gaps. .. . Decidedly it is not enticing. Thewhole line from the north right round to the south, where theJapanese, French, Austrians, Italians and Germans are distributed, ending on the Tartar Wall itself, is terribly weak. And as I began tounderstand this, an hour after this afternoon adventure I became quitegloomy at the outlook. 

Everything, indeed, was upside down. Matters in the British Legationwere not improving, and the fighting air which exists elsewhere is notto be found here. Men, women and children; ponies, mules andpacking-cases; sandbags and Ministers Plenipotentiary--are still allengaged in attempting to sort themselves out and keep distinct fromone another. Already the British Legation has surrendered itself, notto the enemy, but to committees. There are general committees, foodcommittees, fortifications committees, and what other committees I donot know, except that American missionaries, who appear at least tohave more energy than any one else, are practically ruling them. Thisis all very well in its way, but it is curious to see that dozens ofable bodied men, armed with rifles, are hiding away in corners so thatthey shall not be drafted away to the outer defences. Everywhere acontemptible spirit is being displayed, because a feeling prevailsthat there are no responsible chiefs in whom absolute trust can beplaced. A pleasant mess in all truth. It is now everyone for himselfand nobody looking after the others. .. . 

Some of the people, however, have begun dividing themselves up, andnow are billeted, nationality by nationality, in separate quarters. But many persons seem lost and distraught. H----, the great directorof Chinese affairs, was siting on an old mattress looking quiteparalysed; P----, his counterpart in the Russian bank, was stridingabout excitedly and muttering to himself. The Belgian Legation hasdisappeared entirely; whether they have run away or been lost in theconfusion I could not for the life of me tell. What a position, what acondition! Already it is a great feat to be on speaking terms with adozen people, and if we could only instill some of the savageness weall feel towards one another into our defence, it would become sovigorous and unconquerable that not all the legions of the BoxerEmpire, massed in serried ranks, could break in on us. But this verydefence, which should be so determined, is the most half-hearted thingimaginable. It has no real leader, and merely resolves itself intothe old policy of each Legation holding its own in an irregularhalf-circle round the British Legation, which itself is a mass ofdisorder. I feel certain that if we have a night attack at once theChinese will break in with the greatest ease, and then. .. . _Tant pis!_

The last thing I saw in the British Legation was M----, the greatcorrespondent, sitting on a great stack of his books, looking wearilyaround him. His former energy and resolution have all departed, sappedby the spectacle of extraordinary incompetence around him. Of whatgood has all that rescuing of native Christians been--all that energyin dragging them more dead than alive into our lines in the face ofMinisterial opposition, when we cannot even protect ourselves? Butjust when I began this moralising, the hundred and fifty mules andponies that have been collected together all broke loose, frightenedby some stray shots, and went careering madly around us. It was pitchdark and most gloomy before they had been all tied up again, andalthough firing became heavier and heavier as Chinese snipers foundthey could approach our outer lines in safety, I finally sought out aspot for myself and fell asleep with my rifle on my chest--cursingeverybody. It is a sign of the times--my nerves are becomingMinisterial!

II

THE RETREAT AND THE RETURN

23rd June, 1900. 

 * * * * *

Yesterday the inevitable happened, and only Heaven and the foolishnessof the attacking forces, who are only playing with us, and do not seemto have settled down to their work, saved us from completeannihilation. Without a word of explanation, Captain T----, theAustrian commander, suddenly ordered all the French, Italians andAustrians to fall back on the British Legation, sending word meanwhileto the Japanese and the Germans to follow his example. This meant thatthe whole vast semicircle to the northeast and the southeast was beingthrown up. The result was that for ten minutes armed men of allnationalities poured into the British Legation, until everyrifle-bearing effective was standing there, all jabbering in a mass, and not knowing what it was all about. The Americans, who hadestablished themselves on the Tartar Wall as the main point in thewestern defence, guessed they were not going to be left there cut offfrom salvation by a failure to remember their existence; and presentlythey, too, ran in, openly swearing at their officers. These Americanmarines have never quite liked this idea of being planted on theTartar Wall; for with that smartness for which their race isdistinguished, they see it is quite on the cards that they areforgotten up there if a rush occurs while the others are sitting safein the main base. And the Americans are not going to be forgotten--wesoon found that out. They are the people of the future. 

Depict to yourself, if you can, the blind fear of all thePlenipotentiaries, of all the missionaries and their lamb-facedconverts, on seeing the gallant defenders of the outer lines rushingin on them at a fast trot, and then falling into line and standingvery much at ease awaiting the next move. I may be brutal, but Irelished that scene a little; it was a lesson that was sadly needed. It was the British Minister who remained the most calm; perhaps heimmediately understood that the game was now in his hands. But theother Ministers, I wish you could have but seen them! They crowdedround his British Excellency in an adoring and trembling ring, andwithout subterfuge offered him the supreme command; that was exactlywhat we had been expecting. Underneath their manner you could easilysee they meant to say that they knew it was the British Legation inwhich they had taken refuge; that they had had enough of all thesealarums and excursions; and that so long as they were left in peacethey did not care about the rest. What mean little people we are inthis world! The French, the Russian, the Italian and the JapaneseMinisters were the first to act thus, and as they represented amajority of the detachments, the others who had Legation Guards hadpretty well to follow suit, whether they liked it or not, and some didnot like it, as I shall show hereafter. M---- had been hinting veryplainly that he had been in a kilted regiment, and that the BritishLegation was the hub of the defence--the asylum for all; and so with asatisfied smile, he was pleased to accept the proffered appointment. Yet it was one only in name. For just as he was writing out his first_ordre du jour_ the various Plenipotentiaries showed theirappreciation of the office they had conferred on him by ordering, eachone of them separately, their respective detachments to return totheir respective Legations so hurriedly abandoned. So the sailors andthe marines, and the fighting volunteers who bear them company, bundled back to the outer lines and barricades again, finding all justas it had been before, except that the Italian Legation was in flamesand the Italian barricades therefore useless. The snipers had foundthat they could suddenly work in peace, and had thrown blazingtorches. Four Legations are now destroyed and abandoned, for theBelgian, the Austrian and the Dutch have all gone up in flames atdifferent times during the last days. Seven Legations remain and tenMinisters. 

The defence is thus getting into reasonable limits and so long as ourattacks are confined to what they have been up till now, we may reallypull through. Incendiary fires round the outer lines, lighted by meansof torches stuck on long poles, a heavy rifle-fire poured into themost exposed barricades by an unseen enemy, and very occasionally afaint-hearted rush forward, which a fusillade on our part turns into arout--these have so far been the dangers with which we have had tocontend. But the very worst feature of the defence is that no onetrusts the neighbouring detachment sufficiently to believe that itwill stand firm under all circumstances and not abandon its ground;consequently this fear that a sudden breakdown along some barricadeswill allow of an inrush of Chinese troops and Boxers makes men fightall the time with their eyes over their shoulders, which is the veryworst way of fighting I can possibly imagine. And another hardly lessimportant point is that the burden is not evenly apportioned, and thatthe men know it. For instance, the British Legation, which is as yetnot in the slightest exposed, is full of able-bodied men doingnothing--whereas on the outer lines of the other Legations many menare so dead with sleep that they can hardly sit awake two hours. Itcan easily be seen from the rude sketches I have made and re-made, what I mean. I have been over every inch on my own legs; there can beno mistake. 

From the main sketch you will see that the holding of the Tartar Wall, together with the American and Russian Legations, protects the BritishLegation effectively from the south and partially, from the west; thatthe Franco-German-Austrian lines, and the Su wang-fu, with theJapanese, mask the east; and that of the other two sides on which theBritish Legation walls and outbuildings really constitute the actualdefence line directly in touch with the enemy, the Imperial CarriagePark, a vast grass-grown area with but half a dozen yellow-roofedbuildings in it, makes the western approaches very difficult toattack, since they are easily swept by our rifle-fire; and that thenorthern side is so filled with buildings belonging to the ChineseGovernment (which it now seems cannot be destroyed), that I do notapprehend attacks here. The only real dangers to the British Legationin any case are these two corners to the north and the southwest. .. . 

Passing over to the Su wang-fu, you realise the extraordinarydifference between the danger points along the British Legationnorthern and western barricades, and little Colonel S----'s command. Here you are in direct touch with the enemy, for the snipers offorty-eight hours ago have been strongly reinforced, doubtlessattracted by the possibility of loot. 

[Illustration: Map of the siege. ]

Soldiers and all sorts of banditti must have joined hands with theBoxers, for it is clear that every hour is mysteriously adding moreand more men round our lines. You can hear the men talking, and youcan see bricks moving but fifty or sixty yards from where you aresquinting through a loophole as fresh barricades, that are graduallysurrounding us in a vise which may yet crush us to death, are silentlybuilt. The forty or fifty Japanese, and the few volunteers who arewith them, have now been reinforced by all the Italians, who have beengiven a big strip of outer wall and a fortified hillock in Prince Su'sornamental garden--a hillock which commands a great stretch ofterritory, as territory goes in our wall split area. For here in theSu wang-fu the number of walls and buildings is terrible, and Heavenonly knows how seventy or eighty men can even make a pretence ofholding such positions. First there is the great outer wall eighteenfeet high and three feet thick. Then from this outer wall, other thickwalls run inwards at right angles, splitting up the place into littlesquares, in which as likely as not there will be a group of houseswith great dragon-adorned roofs. Further towards the centre of the Fuis Prince Su's own palace and his retainers' quarters; to the south ofthis is an ornamental garden full of trees, a vast and mournfulenclosure, standing in which the crack of outpost rifles can only bedistantly heard. Moving across to the southern side--that is, the sidenear the French Legation and the protected Legation Street--theChristian refugees are found gathered here in huge droves. In onebuilding there are alone four hundred native schoolgirls, rows uponrows of them that never seem to come to an end, sitting on the groundin their sober blue coats and trousers, peacefully combing eachother's hair, or working on sandbags with the imperturbability of theEasterner who is placid under death. Farther on, again, you come onfamilies, sometimes three generations huddling together on a six-footstraw mat. A mother trying to feed a child from her half-dry breaststells you quietly that it is no use, since the meagre fare she isalready getting does not make sustenance enough for her, let alone herchild. Yet everything possible is being done to feed them. All theable-bodied converts have long ago been drafted off forbarricade-building and loophole-making in the endless walls, and herethe curious Japanese passion for order and detail is shown on thecoats of the older men. The boss-shifts, each responsible for so manymen who have to accomplish a given amount of work in a specified time, have big white labels with characters written squarely across them, telling everyone clearly what they are. At a little table near bywriters, who have been carefully sorted out from this incongruousgathering, are provided with brush and ink, and have been set to workmaking up reports and lists of all the people. These are handed to aJapanese Secretary of Legation, who has been evolved into anengineer-in-chief and overseer of native labour, and thus at everyhour of the day the distribution of the barricaders is known. Amidthese crowds of native refugees, who number at least a couple ofthousand people, two or three Japanese occasionally wander to see thatall's well, and give the babies little things they have looted fromPrince Su's palace to play with. Content to be where they are andassured that the European will not abandon them, these natives exhibitin a strange manner that inexplicable thing--Faith. Poor people--theylittle know! Is it always thus with faith?

So the Su wang-fu, which is but the northwestern part of our lines, isnow a city in itself, inhabited by the most unlikely people in theworld. Three days have sufficed to give it an entity of its own. Thenature of the defence and the fighting value of the Japanese ascompared to the Italians, are fitly illustrated by the distribution offorces which little Colonel S---- has already made. The Italians holdperhaps a hundred feet of the outer wall and one hillock of someimportance. The Japanese have at least a thousand feet of loopholedand unloop-holed wall, and are quite ready to take another thousand ifsome one would be kind enough to give it to them. In posts of threeand four men, distant sometimes hundreds of feet apart, the littleJapanese takes his two hours on and his four hours off night and daywithout a murmur or without ever a break. Only at one place are theremore than three or four little men together. At the eastern end of theFu there is a big post grouped round the fortified Main Gate, wherethere are actually eight or nine men under the command of a Japanesenaval lieutenant. 

But the genius who has organised all this system, the little Japanesecolonel, does not waste time walking around. He is at work at aneternal map decorated with green, blue and red spots, which show thedistribution of his forces and their respective strength and fightingvalue. Somehow I could not tear myself away from this quarter. It wasso orderly. .. . 

Behind the commanding hillock in the Italian centre I found LieutenantP----, the Italian naval officer, dining off bread and Bolognasausage, which he was stripping after the Italian fashion, inelegantlyusing his knife both to punctuate his sentences and to assist thepassage of his food. "Look out, " he cried, as soon as I had appeared, "it is very warm here; the bullets are flying low. " The leaves of thetrees under which he was sitting were indeed falling thickly, cut downby snipers' fire. But still I wish he would walk down to a Japanesepost not more than five hundred feet away and watch a little Jap and ahalf dozen Chinese snipers at work against each other. That is where Ihad just been--convoying some supplies. The little Japanese hadostentatiously placed his sailor cap just in front of an emptyloophole twenty feet from where he actually squatted, and where he hadprobably been a few seconds before I had arrived. The snipers saw thisand promptly fired, bang, bang, bang, a long line of shots followingone after the other in quick succession. Hum! they must be reloadingnow, said the little Jap plainly by the expression on his face; andjumping straight on top of the wall in front of him he hastily snappedat one of his enemies. Then down he came again, but hardly quickenough, for bricks were dislodged all around him, and once he receivedone on the head. The little man rubbed his cranium ruefully, shookhimself like a dog to get rid of the sting, and then with a littlemore caution began his strange performance again. This is what isgoing on all round the Japanese posts--men bobbing up and firingrapidly, in some cases only fifty feet away from one another. TheItalians are lying comfortably on their stomachs completely out ofsight, and wildly volleying far too often. Already their ammunitionis running low, although there is hardly any need really to reply atall to our enemies. They have crept closer, it is true, and withoutsurprising any one, or even causing notice, their numbers of riflemenhave grown from hour to hour. Now I come to think of it, there must bemany hundreds of men lying all round us and firing just as theyplease. But they are hidden behind walls and ruined houses; theybelong to our curious state; they are the essential things after all. How foolish one becomes!

Threading your way due south you come suddenly on a French picquet, four Frenchmen and two Austrians behind a heavy barricade. Thisprecious Su wang-fu is merely linked to the French Legation by asystem of such posts audaciously feeble when you consider the dutythey have to undertake--to keep up a connection hundreds of yards longwhich any moment may be broken in a dozen places by a determined rushof the enemy. This first French post is the extreme left of the Frenchdefence, and it is only after some long alleyways that you come on thecentre itself. Here on roofs, squatting behind loopholes, and even ontree-tops, though these are very dangerous, French and Austriansailors exchange shots with the enemy. Half a dozen men have beenalready hit here, but in spite of the strictest orders men arefearlessly exposing themselves and reaping the inevitable result. Itis only at the beginning that one is so unwise. One giant Austrian hadspread himself across the top of a roof near which I passed, with twosandbags to protect his head, and looked in his blue-black sailorsclothes like an enormous fly squashed flat up there by the anger ofthe gods. Now leaning this way, now that, he flashed off a Mannlicherthere towards the Italian Legation, where only one hundred hours agono one ever dreamed that Chinese desperadoes would have made ournormal life such a distant memory. 

As I came up the French commander allowed the remark to drop that theposition did not please him--_ca ne me dit rien_ is the exactexpression he used--and that his defence was too thin to be capable ofresisting a single determined rush. The abandoned Italian barricade, with the Italian Legation still smouldering behind it, is indeed nowfilling up with more and more Chinese sharpshooters, who continuallypour in a hot fire only fifty feet from the French lines. Occasionallya reckless Chinese brave dashes across from the hiding-place he hasselected to cover his advance into the nest of Chinese houses whichare only separated by a twenty-foot lane from the French Legationwall, and coolly applies the torch. Then puff; first there is a smallcloud of smoke, then a volley of crackling wood, and finally flamesleaping skyward. You can see this here at all hours. Aided by fire andrifle-shots the Chinese are pushing nearer and nearer the French. Itis clear that they will have a worse time than the Japanese if thesituation develops as quietly but as rapidly as it has been doing. .. . 

Across Legation Street connection with the Germans is now had by meansof more loopholed barricades; for the Germans link hands with theFrench and Austrians, just as they on their part link up with thelittle colonel of the Su wang-fu. But the Germans are not in force attheir own Legation; they are merely using it as their base, for it isonly by means of the Peking Club, whose grounds run sheer back, thatthey touch the priceless Tartar Wall. Spread-eagled along a veryindifferently barricaded line, the marines of the German Sea Battalionnow lie in an angry frame of mind dangerous for everyone. They havefelt hurt ever since the loss of their Minister, and the men arerecklessly desperate. On the Tartar Wall itself they are exposed to adusting fire from the great Ha-ta Towers that loom up half a mile fromthem, and men are already falling. A three-inch gun commenced firingin the morning--nobody but the Wall posts noticed it at first--and nowoverhead whiz with that odd shaking of the air so hard to explainthese light but dangerous projectiles. Happily it is rather a moderngun, and the Chinese, unaccustomed to the flat trajectory, are firingfar too high. I noticed as I crept along that the shells fellscreaming into the Imperial city a mile or two away. If they only getthe range!

Far along the Tartar Wall, towards the Ch'ien Men Gate, yellow dotscould be indistinctly seen. These were the Americans, in their slouchhats and khaki suits, lying on the ground and facing the enemy's firein the other direction. Held in check by the Germans and Americans intwo feeble posts of a few men each, the Chinese commanders cannot gettheir men along the Tartar Wall, and command the Legations that crouchbelow. Perhaps that is why playing is only going on and no assaults. Now sobbing, now gurgling, the bullets pass thickly enough overheadhere, sometimes in dense flights like angry wild-fowl, sometimesspeeding in quick succession after one another as if they were alllate and were frantically endeavouring to make up for lost time. .. . Iam certain now that this fusillade is increasing from hour tohour--almost from minute to minute. I do not think playing will soonbe the right expression. .. . 

To get to the Russo-American side of the defence, there is no help forit, you have to make a long voyage; to climb down off the Wall, passthrough the German Legation, cross Legation Street into the Frenchlines, and work your way slowly through acres of compounds anddeserted houses. Yesterday I would have made a dash, but afterwatching the four hundred yards of wall between the German andAmerican posts, you are easily convinced that even to sneak along, hugging the protecting parapet, would be an undertaking of utterfoolishness. For as I stood looking, the rank undergrowth, whichChinese sloth has allowed in past years to grow up along the top ofthe Tartar Wall, was apparently alive, now swinging this way, nowswaying that, and sometimes even jumping into the air in pieces as ifgalvanised into madness by the rush of bullets. The number of riflemenis growing fast. So passing into the French Legation, great holes letyou into the next compound, which happens to be that of my friendC----, the Peking hotel-keeper. Here there is a new sight; everybodyis at work quite peacefully, milling wheat, washing rice, slaughteringanimals, barricading windows--doing everything, in fact at once. Thisfellow C---- is an original, who knows how to make his Chinese slavewith the greatest industry and sets them an admirable example himself. A rather desperate lot are these servants, although most of them areprofessed Roman Catholics, and can gabble French learned years ago atMonseigneur F----'s. And that reminds me: no one has thought of thegallant bishop during the past few days. That shows how indifferentthe abnormal makes one; the French Legation has attempted once to getinto communication with the distant cathedral and failed. Since thennobody I have seen has even mentioned the great Catholic mission. 

These lonely and deserted compounds, merely connected with our basesand the outlying works by great holes rudely picked through theirmassive walls, are curiously mournful and passing strange. The housesare absolutely empty and silent; everything has been left exactly asit stood, when the occupants rushed off feverishly to the BritishLegation, where they now sit in idleness relying for protection on thethin outer lines I have described. In these abandoned Legations andresidences you can scarcely hear more than a distant rattle ofmusketry, and when you think how great the distances are it is veryeasy to understand why the panic occurred yesterday morning among themen on the outer lines, at which those smugly safe in the BritishLegation were so indignant. Occupying widely separated positions, imperfectly linked together, and with no responsible commander towatch them with a keen and discerning eye, the defenders of theeastern, southern and western lines could well suppose that theincompetence of the Ministers and the disorders which have reignedduring the past few weeks would culminate in their being abandonedwithout a word of warning being sent them. It is so silly to say thatbecause men are soldiers and sailors they must be prepared to do theirduty everywhere. There must have been times when even the Romansoldier at Pompeii felt like revolting. 

Pushing on, I crossed the southern bridge of stone, in order to reachthe Russo-American lines and the rear of the British Legation, andmarvelled more and more at our good luck. As yet nothing has beendone to protect this very exposed connecting link; and so bending lowyou have once more to sneak rapidly along, using the stone parapet asa traverse to save you from the enfilading fire, which is coming fromheavens know where. The bullets were singing in all manner of toneshere as I ran, the iron ones of old-fashioned make muttering a deepbass; the nickel-headed modern devils spitting the thinnest kind oftreble as they hastened along. It was almost amusing to gauge theirspeed. Some had already travelled so far that with a flop which raisesa little cloud of dust they dropped exhausted at your feet. Thericochets are in the majority, for with the vast number of interveningwalls and trees and the sloping Chinese roofs which pen us in on allsides, the nickel, iron and lead of Mannlicher and Mauser rifles andTower muskets are soon converted into mere discordant humming-birds, whose greatest inconvenience is their sound. Never have I heard such ahumming as these spent ricochets make. 

Fifty feet past this southern stone bridge you meet the first Russianbarricade, with half a dozen tired Russian sailors sleeping on theground and a sleepy-eyed lookout man leaning on his rifle. Thisbarricade faces in both directions in the shape of a V, and under itsprotection this part of Legation Street is supposed to be safe from arush, if the men stand firm. In the Russian and American Legations itis everywhere the same story--barricades and loopholed houses andoutworks, now mostly crowned with sandbags, succeed one another with aregularity which becomes monotonous. But on this western side thebullets are few and far between as yet, and sometimes for a fewseconds a curious quiet reigns, only broken by the distant andmuffled hum of sound and crackling towards the east. Decidedly up todate it is the Japanese and the French and their companions who haveall the honours in the matter of cannonading and fusillading, and theGermans are soon going to be not far behind them. Right up on theTartar Wall I found the American marines once again lying mutinouslysilent. They, too, do not like it, frankly and unreservedly; and as Ilay up there and told them what I had seen elsewhere, an old fellowwith a beard said it was S----, the first secretary, who had insistedon their stopping, and had almost had a fight with everyone about it. The old marine told me that the other men would be damned--he used theword in a wistful sort of way which had nothing profane about it--ifthey stopped much longer. They wanted other people to share thehonours; they did not see why every man should not have a turn at thesame duty. .. . I was glad these Americans were making this fuss, foreverything is just as unbalanced as it was at the beginning, and thereis no sort of confidence anywhere. After three days of siege the onlyclear thing I can see is that there are a lot of bad tempers, and thatthe few good men are saving the situation by acting independently tothe best of their ability and are not trying to understand anythingelse. 

Much depressed, I at last slipped down through the back of the RussianLegation into the British Legation. Yes! the others are right, for onreaching the English grounds you feel unconsciously that you havepassed from the fighting line to the hospital and commissariat base. Here, mixed impartially with the women, crowds of vigorous men, belonging to the junior ranks of the Legations' staffs and to numbersof other institutions, are skulking, or getting themselves placed oncommittees so as to escape duty. I suppose you could beat up ahundred, or even a hundred and fifty, rifle-bearing effectives in anhour. Many of the younger men were furious, and said they were quitewilling to do anything, but that everybody should be turned out. .. . Inthe afternoon some of them fell in with my idea--volunteering underindependent command on the outer lines--and now the Japanese, theFrench and the Germans have got more men. But what I wish to show youin this rambling account is the unbalanced condition. Except in two orthree places we can be rushed in ten minutes. 

III

FIRES AND FOOD

24th June, 1900. 

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I am convinced that not only does everything come to him who knows howto wait, but that sooner or later everybody meets with their deserts. 

The British Legation, allowed to sink into a somewhat somnolentcondition owing to its immunity from direct attack, has been nowrudely awakened. Fires commencing in earnest yesterday, after a fewhalf-hearted attempts made previously, have been raging in half adozen different places in this huge compound; and one incendiary, creeping in with the stealthiness of a cat, threw his torches soskilfully that for at least an hour the fate of the Ministerialresidences hung in the balance, and Ministerial fears assumed alarmingproportions. Again I was satisfied; everybody should sooner or latermeet with their deserts. 

I have already said how the British Legation is situated. Protected onthe east and south entirely by the other Legations and linkeddefences, it can run no risk from these quarters until the defendersof these lines are beaten back by superior weight of numbers. Partially protected on the west, owing to the fact that an immensegrass-grown park renders approach from this quarter without carefullyentrenching and barricading simple suicide, there remain but twopoints of meagre dimensions at which the Chinese attack can besuccessfully developed without much preliminary preparation; thenarrow northern end and a southwestern point formed by a regularrabbit-warren of Chinese houses that push right up to the Legationwalls. It is precisely at these two points that the Chinese, withtheir peculiar methods of attack, directed their best efforts. 

Beginning in earnest at the northern end, after some inconsiderableefforts on the southwestern corner, they set fire to the sacro-sanctHanlin Yuan, which is at once the Oxford and Cambridge, the Heidelbergand the Sorbonne of the eighteen provinces of China rolled into one, and is revered above all other earthly things by the Chinese scholar. In the spacious halls of the Hanlin Academy, which back against theflanking wall of the British Legation, are gathered in mighty pilesthe literature and labours of the premier scholars of the CelestialEmpire. Here complete editions of Gargantuan compass; vast cyclopaediacopied by hand and running into thousands of volumes; essays datingfrom the time of dynasties now almost forgotten; woodblocks black withage crowded the endless unvarnished shelves. In an empire wherescholarship has attained an untrammelled pedantry never dreamed of inthe remote West, in a country where a perfect knowledge of theclassics is respected by beggar and prince to such an extent that toattempt to convey an idea would cause laughter in Europe, all of usthought--even the pessimists--that it could never happen that thisholy of holies would be desecrated by fire. Listen to what happened. 

To the sound of a heavy rifle-fire, designed to frustrate all effortsat extinguishing the dread fire-demon, the flaming torch was appliedby Chinese soldiery to half a dozen different places, and almostbefore anybody knew it, the holy of holies was lustily ablaze. As theflames shot skywards, advertising the danger to the most purblind, everybody at last became energetic and sank their feuds. Britishmarines and volunteers were formed up and independent commands rushedover from the other lines; a hole was smashed through a wall, and themixed force poured raggedly into the enclosures beyond. They had toclamber over obstacles, through tightly jammed doors, under fallingbeams, occasionally halting to volley heavily until they had clearedall the ground around the Hanlin, and found perhaps half a ton ofempty brass cartridge cases left by the enemy, who had discreetlyflown. From a safe distance snipers, hidden from view an untraceable, kept on firing steadily; but they were careful not to advance. 

Meanwhile the flames were spreading rapidly, the century-old beams andrafters crackling with a most alarming fierceness which threatened toengulf the adjacent buildings of the Legation. What huge flames theywere! The priceless literature was also catching fire, so thedragon-adorned pools and wells in the peaceful Hanlin courtyards weresoon choked with the tens of thousands of books that were heaved in bymany willing hands. At all costs this fire must be checked. Dozens ofmen from the British Legation, hastily whipped into action by sharpwords, were now pushed into the burning Hanlin College, abandoningtheir tranquil occupation of committee meetings and commissariat work, which had been engaging their attention since the first shots had beenfired on the 20th, and thus reinforced the marines and the volunteerssoon made short work of twenty centuries of literature. Beautifulsilk-covered volumes, illumined by hand and written by masters of theChinese brush, were pitched unceremoniously here and there by thethousand with utter disregard. Sometimes a sinologue, of whom thereare plenty in the Legations, unable to restrain himself at the sightof these literary riches which in any other times would be utterlybeyond his reach, would select an armful of volumes and attempt tofight his way back through the flames to where he might deposit hisburden in safety; but soon the way was barred by marines with sternorders to stop such literary looting. Some of these books were worththeir weight in gold. A few managed to get through with their spoils, and it is possible that missing copies of China's literature may besome day resurrected in strange lands. 

With such curious scenes proceeding these fires were checked in onedirection only to break out in another. For later on, sneaking inunder the cover of trees and the many massive buildings which pushedup so close, Chinese marauders finding that they could escape, threwtorch after torch soaked in petroleum on the neighbouring roofs andrafters. In some cases they forced our posts to seek cover by firingon them very heavily, and then with a sudden dash they couldaccomplish their deadly work at ease. At one time, thanks to thispolicy, the outbuildings of the British Legation actually caught fire, and the flames, urged on by a sharp north wind, lolled out theirtongues longingly towards the main buildings. Lines of men, women, andchildren were hastily formed to our wells and hundreds of utensils ofthe most incongruous character were brought into play. I came back tofind ladies of the Legations handing even _pots de chambre_ full ofwater to the next person in the long chain which had been formed; andamong all these people who were at length willing to work because ofthe imminent danger of their being smoked out, I found long-lostfaces, including that of my own chief. Where they had all sprung fromI could not make out. But to see Madame So-and-so, a Ministerial wife, handing these delectable utensils, and forced to labour hard, wasworth a good many privations. There are so many elements of thetragic-absurd now to be seen. 

That work on the British Legation lines confined me for some time tothis area, and determined to profit by it, I sought out ViscountT----, who loves delicacies, and offered to exchange champagne for afew tins of preserves. We have mules, we have ponies, and we have evendonkeys, it is true, and a great mass of grain and rice which willlast for weeks. But it is dry and sorrowful food, and I long for a fewdelicacies. To-day my midday tiffin consisted of a rude curry made ofpony meat; and in the evening, because I was busy and had no time tosearch out other things, I ate once again of pony--this time cold! 'Iwill frankly confess that I was not enchanted, and had it not been forthe Monopole, of which there are great stores in the hotel and theclub--thousand cases in all, I believe--I should have collapsed. Foras Monsieur la Fontaine has informed us, even the most willing ofstomachs has certain rights, and there are times when a good deal ofzeal is necessary. It is true we have now a narcotic to feed on whichsupports us at all times almost without the aid of anything else--thenever-ending roll of rifle-fire now blazing forth with grim violenceand sending a storm of bullets overhead, now muttering slowly andcautiously with merely a falling leaf or a snipped branch to showthat it is directed at our devoted heads. You can live on that formany hours, but it is a bad thing to feed on, of course, for it mustleave after-effects more hard to overcome than those of opium. Littled'A----, of the French Legation, swears he never feels hungry at allso long as the firing continues. .. . 

To perform this work of feeding so many mouths, there arecommittees--committees far too big, since everyone is anxious to jointheir safe ranks--committees which, although they number men of allnationalities, are simply standing examples, I opine, of theorganising capacity of the Yankee and his masterfulness over otherpeople. For it is the Yankee missionary who has invaded and takencharge of the British Legation; it is the Yankee missionary who isdoing all the work there and getting all the credit. Beginning withthe fortifications committee, there is an extraordinary man namedG----, who is doing everything--absolutely everything. I believe thereare actually other members of this committee--at least, there are somepeople who assist--but G---- is the man of the hour, and will brook nointerference. Already the British Legation, which at the commencementof the siege was utterly undefended by any entrenchments or sandbags, is rapidly being hustled into order by the masterful hand of thismissionary. Coolies are evolved from the converts of all classes, who, although they protest that they are unaccustomed to manual work, aremerely given shovels and picks, sandbags and bricks, and resolutelytold to commence and learn. Already the discontented in the outerlines are sending for him and asking him to do this and that, and thehard-worked man always finds time for everything. It is a wonder. 

And behind this one man fortifications committee there are many othercommittees now. There is a general committee which no one has yetfathomed; a fuel committee; a sanitary committee; nothing butcommittees, all noisily talking and quite safe in the BritishLegation. Out of the noise and chatter the American missionaryemerges, sometimes odorous and unpleasant to look upon, but whoseexcuse for not shouldering a rifle and volunteering for the front iswritten on his tired face. It is the selfsame Yankee missionary who isgrinding the wheat and seeing that it is not stolen; it is theAmerican missionary who is surveying the butcher at work and seeingthat not even the hoofs are wasted. And I am sad to confess that it ishe who is feeding those thousands of Roman Catholics in the Suwang-fu, while the French and Italian priests and fathers, divorcedfrom the dull routine of their ordinary life, sit helplessly withtheir hands folded, willingly abandoning their charges to these moreenergetic Anglo-Saxons. This Protestantism is not my religion, but formasculine energy there is none other like it. I would not have youthink by this and my constant irritation that there are no Englishmendoing well; it is merely that the ponderous atmosphere of the BritishLegation is such that very few men who live habitually there can shakethemselves free from it even in such times as these. I know that halfof them are much upset at the _role_ they are being forced to play, but who can help them?

We are progressing more quietly now that the big fires are out; butstill there is scant reason for any congratulations. S----, forinstance, is quite forgotten, I assure you, for I mentioned his nameto P----, the French Minister, only an hour ago, and the only reply hemade was to spread out his hands in front of him and give vent to animmense sigh. Then he muttered as he went away, "_II a disparucompletement--entierement; c'est la fin_. ". .. 

All relief is now felt to be out of the question. Men are also beginning tofall with regularity, and are carried in bloodstained, as evidence thatthis is really a serious business. The British Chancery is now thehospital; despatch tables have been washed and covered with surgical cloth;cases are dropping in (seventeen up to date, I hear), and doctors are busy. Already in the night smothered cries burst from the walls of thesetorture-rooms, and make one conscious that it may be one's turn next. Ihave always felt that it is all right up in the firing line, but it is thatdreadful afterwards on the operating-table. .. . But nurses and doctors aredoing valiantly. There is a German army doctor who knows his business verywell, they say; and his reputation has already spread so far among the menof our all-nation sailors and marines that they all ask for him. I haveheard that request in four languages already. 

To me it seems that by incontestable laws each actor is taking hisproper place, and that each nationality is pushing out its best to theproper perspective. Ah! a siege is evidently the testing-room of thegods. If we could only in ordinary life apply the great siege test, what mistakes would be avoided, what reputations would be saved frombeing shattered! Because no weak man would ever be given advancement. 

IV

THE BONDS TIGHTEN

25th June, 1900. 

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On all sides our position has become less secure, less enviable, andthe enemy more menacing, more daring and more intent in breaking in onus. The few dropping shots which opened the ball on the 20th have nowduly blossomed into a rich harvest of bullets that sometimes continuesfor hours without intermission or break. The Japanese, unable to holdtheir huge line, consisting of Prince Su's outer wall, have alreadybeen forced to give way at several points, but in doing so they haveeach time managed to bite hard at the enemy's attacking head. The daybefore yesterday the little Japanese colonel decided he would have togive up a block of courts on the northeast--some of those courts Ihave already described, which, hemmed in by walls almost as high asthe outer monster, itself eighteen or twenty feet high and three feetthick, form veritable death-traps if you can entice any one inside andhammer them to pieces by loophole fire. This is precisely the policyadopted by Colonel S----. 

The battalion of the Peking Field Force which faces the northern fronthad been industriously pushing forward massive barricades until theyalmost touched Prince Su's outer wall. Secure behind thesesharpshooter fortifications a distressing fire was concentrated onthe half a dozen fortified Japanese posts that lined the outer wall. Here on high stagings, crudely made of timber and bamboo poles andprotected by thick wedges of sandbags, Japanese sailors and somemiscellaneous volunteers, grouped in posts of four and five men, layhour after hour unable to show a finger or move a hand. Hundreds ofChinese rifles at the closest possible range poured in a never-endingfire on these facile targets, and the sandbagged positions, literallyeaten away by old-fashioned iron bullets in company with the mostmodern nickel-headed variety, crumbled down to practically nothing. Lying on your back at these advanced posts and looking at the slopingroofs of Prince Su's ornamental pavilions a few hundred feet withinour lines was a droll sight. The Chinese riflemen, being on a slightlylower level and forced to fire upwards at the Japanese positions, caused many of their bullets to skim the sandbagged crest and strikethe line of roofs behind. Many, I say; I should have said thousandsand tens of thousands, for the roofs seemed alive and palpitating withstrange feelings; and extraordinary as it may sound, big holes weresoon eaten into the heavily tiled roofs by this simple riflefusillade. It seemed as if the Chinese hoped to destroy us and ourdefences by this novel method. But there was a more ominous sign thanthis. A Japanese sailor perched high up aloft on a roof five hundredfeet inside these advance positions and armed with a telescope, hadseen two guns being dragged forward. In a few hours at the most, evenallowing for Chinese sloth and indifference as to time, the guns wouldbe in position, and then the outer wall would be demolished, andpossibly a disordered retirement would be the result. So the littleJapanese colonel took the bull by the horns. Setting all the coolieshe could muster from among the converts, he quickly formed a secondline of defence by loopholing and sandbagging all the chess-boardsquares that flank the northern wall. When night came the advancedpositions were quietly abandoned, and as soon as the Chinese scouts, who always creep forward at daybreak, discovered that our men hadflown, their leaders ordered a charge. A confused mass rushed forward, penetrated one of the courtyards, and finding it apparently deserted, incautiously pushed into the next square. Before they could fly, amurderous fire caught them on three sides and wiped out several dozensof them, the rifles and ammunition being taken by our men and thecorpses thrown outside. This has apparently had a chilling effect onthe policy of open charges in this quarter, and now the Chinesecommanders are advancing their lines by means of ingenious parallelsand zig-zag barricades, which will take some time to construct. 

Meanwhile, the Japanese main-gate fort, at the extreme Japanese east, with its outlying barricades, is being slowly reached for by the samemeans. Two or three times the French, who make connection with theJapanese lines a hundred feet to the south, have had to send as manymen as they could spare to hold back a sudden rush. Each time thethreatened Chinese charge has not come off, and the incipient attackhas fizzled out to the accompaniment of a diminishing fusillade. 

The commanding Italian knoll on the northwest corner of the Su wang-furemains firm, but somehow no one has very much confidence in theItalians, and secondary lines are being formed behind them, towardswhich the Italians look with longing eyes. And yet next to theBritish Legation posts the Italians are having the easiest time ofall. Lieutenant P----, their commander, is a brave fellow; but he isbrave because he is educated. The uneducated Italian, unlike theuneducated Frenchman, has little stomach for fighting, and it is easyto understand in the light of our present experiences why theAustrians so long dominated Northern Italy, and why unlucky Baratieriand his men were seized with panic and overwhelmed at Adowa. 

Opposite the French and German Legations, Chinese activity is not sointense as it has been heretofore. Everything in this quarter forthousands of yards is practically flat with the ground, forincendiaries have destroyed hundreds and hundreds of houses, and theChinese commanders are favouring low-lying barricades, which are hardto pick out from the enormous mass of partially burned ruins whichencumber the ground. Just as in South Africa we were reading only theother day, before this plight overtook us, that the hardest thing tosee is a live Boer on the battlefield, so here it is the merest chanceto make out the soldiery that is attacking us. Sometimes dozens of menscuttle across from position to position, and for a moment a vision ofdark, sunburned faces and brightly coloured uniforms waves in front ofus; but in the main, so well has the enemy learned the art of takingcover, and of utilising every fold in the ground, that many, have noteven seen a Boxer or a soldier or know what they look like, althoughtheir fire has been so assiduously pelting us. But some sharp-eyed menof the Legations have learned two things--that the Manchu Banners andTung Fu-hsiang's Kansu soldiery now divide the honour of the attack. Tung Fu-hsiang fortunately has mostly cavalry, and a strong force ofhis dismounted men armed with Mannlicher carbines are on the northeastof the Japanese position, for two have been shot and dragged into ourlines. These cavalrymen are not much to be feared. 

Farther to the south the German position has become exceedinglycurious. While from the American marines on the Tartar Wall round in avast sweep on to the French Legation, each hour sees more defences goup, the Germans have to content themselves with what practicallyamounts to fighting in the open. There has been no time to give themenough coolies, and so they have only lookout men, with the main bodyentrenched in the centre of their position. But yesterday theysurprised some Boxers, who had daringly pushed their way into aChinese house a few yards from one outwork, and who were about to setfire to it, preparatory to calling forward their regular troops. TheGermans charged with a tremendous rush, killed everyone of themarauders, and flung the dead bodies far out so that the enemy mightsee the reward for daring. Being certain that the Chinese commanderswould attempt to revenge this blow, what driblets of men could bespared have been lent to make the German chain more continuous. It isalmost impossible now to follow the ebb and flow of reinforcementsfrom one point to another; but it may be roughly said that thesoutheastern, eastern, northern and northwestern part of oursquare--that is, the Germans, French, Austrians, Japanese andItalians--feed one another with men whenever the rifle fire in anygiven direction along their lines and the flitting movements of theenemy make post commanders suppose a mass attack is coming; and thatthe British Legation and the western Russo-American front, togetherwith the American posts on the Tartar Wall, work together. It is, ofcourse, self-evident from what I have written that the first, orContinental and Japanese lines, are having by far the worst time. For, apart from the American posts on the Tartar Wall, no outposts in thesecond section are as yet in direct touch with the enemy. The strainon those who are within a few yards of Chinese commands is at timesterrible. At night many men can only be held in place by a system ofpatrols designed to give them confidence. .. . 

I have just said that no part of the second half of our irregularsystem was in direct touch with the enemy, but this, although trueenough to-day, was not so yesterday. The Chinese pushed up a gunsomewhere near the dangerous southwestern corner of the BritishLegation, and the fire became so annoying that it was decided to makea sortie and effect a capture if possible. Captain H----, the secondcaptain of the British detachment, was selected to command the sortie, and with a small force of British marines who have been pining attheir enforced inaction and dull sentry-go, and are jealous of thegreater glory the others have already earned by their successfulbutchery of the enemy, a wall was breached and our men rushed out. Being off duty, I witnessed most of the affair. Of course, the sortieended in failure, as every such movement is foredoomed to, when thenature of the ground which surrounds us is considered. There arenothing but small Chinese houses and walls on every side, making itimpossible to move beyond our lines without demolishing and breakingthrough heavy brickwork. The marines went forward as gallantly as theycould, and surprised some of the nests of sharpshooters protecting thegun; but the Chinese, as they retreated, set fire to the houses onall sides, and in the thick flames and smoke it was impossible to movesave back by the way they had come. Under cover of the smoke theChinese soldiery opened a tremendous fire on the sortie party, whowere picking up some of the rifles and swords with which the groundwas strewn, and seeing that our men could not possibly advance, theenemy pushed forward boldly, rapidly firing more and moreenergetically. The British captain received a terrible wound, butrefused to retire; a marine was shot through the groin and died in afew minutes; bullets cut the men's tunics to pieces; and in ahailstorm of fire, poured on them a few yards away, they retreated. H---- covered the retreat all the way, wounded as he was, and shotthree men with his revolver, who were heading a last desperate rush athis men as they made for the hole in the wall. Dripping with blood, this brave man staggered all the way to the hospital alone, refusingall support, and gripping his smoking revolver to the last. Hisbattered appearance so frightened all the miserables who swarm in theBritish Legation that everyone was very gloomy until the next mealhad been eaten, and they had restored themselves by garrulous talk. The German doctor says that H---- will probably die. 

Meanwhile the Americans on the Wall are behaving more erratically thanever. They have retired and reoccupied their position three or fourtimes since the siege began, and the men are now more than mutinous. Yesterday they came down twice--no one could quite make out why--andafter a lapse of an hour or two in each case, they returned. Mattersreached a crisis this morning, and a council of war was called by theBritish Minister, composed of all the officers commandingdetachments. The meeting took place under the American barricade onthe Tartar Wall itself, apparently to give confidence to the men andto make them ashamed of themselves. But the most curious part of itall was that our commander-in-chief excused himself on the diplomaticground that he was sick, and amid the smiles of all, Captain T----, theAustrian, presided and laid down the law. This clearly shows howabsurd is our whole system. Everyone says the Americans were quiteashamed of themselves when the meeting was over, for the general voteof all the detachment officers was that the position was wellfortified, easy to retain, and absolutely essential to hold. They saythe whole reason is that there is internal trouble in the Americancontingent, and that one of the officers is hated. Whether this isreally so or not, I do not know; we never know anything certain now. But although the American has but little discipline, as a sharpshooteron the defensive he is quite unrivalled by reason of his superiorintelligence and the interest he takes in devoting himself to thematter in hand. You only have to see these mutinous marines at workfor five minutes as snipers to be convinced of that. I saw a case inpoint only a few hours ago. Men were wanted to drive back, or at leastintimidate, a whole nest of Chinese riflemen, who had cautiouslyestablished themselves in a big block of Chinese houses across the drycanal, which separates the British Legation from the Su wang-fu. Thisblock of houses is so placed that an enfilading fire can reach anumber of points which are hidden from the Japanese lines; and thisenfilading fire was badly needed, as the Chinese riflemen werebecoming more and more daring, and had already made several hits. Half a dozen of the best American shots were requisitioned. 

The six men who came over went deliberately to work in a verycharacteristic way. They split into pairs, and each pair got, by somemeans binoculars. After a quarter of an hour they settled down towork, lying on their stomachs. First they stripped off their slouchhats and hung them up elsewhere, but instead of putting them a fewfeet to the right or left as everybody else, with a vague idea of RedIndian warfare, within our lines had been doing, they placed them insuch a way as to attract the enemy's fire and make the enemy disclosehimself, which is quite a different matter. This they did by addingtheir coats and decorating adjacent trees with them so far away fromwhere they lay that there could be no chance of the enemy's badshooting hitting them by mistake--as had been the case elsewhere wherethis device had been tried. 

All this by-play took some time, but at last they were ready--one manarmed with a pair of binoculars and the other with the American navalrifle--the Lee straight-pull, which fires the thinnest pin of acartridge I have seen and has but a two-pound trigger pull. Even thennothing was done for perhaps another ten minutes, and in some casesfor half an hour; it varied according to individual requirements. Thenwhen the quarry was located by the man with the binoculars, and theman with the rifle had finished asking a lot of playful questions soas to gain time, the first shots were fired. The marines armed withbinoculars were not unduly elated by any one shot, but merely reportedprogress in a characteristic American fashion--that is, by a system ofchaffing. This provided tonic, and presently the bullets crept in soclose to the marks that all chaff was forgotten. Sometimes it took anhour, or even two, to bring down a single man; but no matter how longthe time necessary might be, the Americans stayed patiently with theirman until the sniper's life's blood was drilled out of him by thesethin pencils of Lee straight-pull bullets. Once, and once only, didexcitement overtake a linked pair I was watching. They had alreadyknocked over two of the enemy aloft in trees, and were attacking athird, who only showed his head occasionally above a roof-line when hefired, and who bobbed up and down with lightning speed. The sole thingto do under the circumstances was to calculate when the head wouldreappear. So the man with the binoculars calculated aloud for thebenefit of the man with the rifle, and soon, in safety below thewall-line, a curious group had collected to see the end. But it was ahard shot and a disappointing one, since it was essential not to scarethe quarry thoroughly by smashing the roof-line instead of the head. So the bullets flew high, and although the sharpshooter was comfortedby the remarks of the other man, no progress was made. Then suddenlythe rifleman fired, on an inspiration, he said afterwards, and lo! andbehold, the head and shoulders of a Chinese brave rose clear in theair and then tumbled backwards. "Killed, by G----; killed, by G----!"swore the man with the binoculars irreverently; and well content withtheir morning's work, the two climbed down and went away. 

You will realise from all these things that everything is still veryerratic, and that the men remain badly distributed. Nor is this all. The general command over the whole of the Legation area is now plainlymodelled on the Chinese plan--that is, the officer commanding doesnot interfere with the others, excepting when he can do so withimpunity to himself. As I have shown, orders which are distasteful aresimply ignored. There is a spirit of rebellion which can only springfrom one cause. People who have read a lot say that every siege inhistory has been like this--with everything incomplete and indisorder. If this is so, I wonder how history has been made! Certainlyin this age there is very little of real valour and bravery. Perhapsthere has been a little in the past, and it is only the glozing-overof time which makes it seem otherwise. 

V

THE MYSTERIOUS BOARD OF TRUCE

25th June, 1900 (night-time). 

 * * * * *

It is always true that the unexpected affords relief when leastawaited. In our case it has been amply proved. 

The sun, which had been shining fiercely all day long until we feltfairly baked and very disconsolate, was heaving down slowly towardsthe west, flooding the pink walls of the Imperial city with a goldenlight and sinking the black outline of the sombre Tartar Wall thattowers so high above us, when all round our battered lines thedropping rifle-fire drooped more and more until single shots alonepunctuated the silence. Our outposts, grouping together, leaned ontheir rifles and gave vent to sighs of relief. Perhaps something hadat last really happened, for though five days only have passed sincethe beginning of the real siege, they seemed to everyone more likefive weeks, or even five months, so clearly do startling eventsseparate one by huge gaps from the dull routine of every-day life. Allof us listened attentively, and presently on all sides the fiercemusic of the long Chinese trumpets blared out uproariously--blare, blare, sobbing on a high note tremulously, and then, boom, boom, suddenly dropping to a thrilling basso profondissimo. Even thechildren know that sound now. Louder and louder the trumpet-calls rangout to one another in answering voice, imperatively calling off theattacking forces. Impelled to retire by this constant clamour, all theChinese soldiery must have retreated, except a few straggling snipers, who remained for a few minutes longer, dully and methodically loosingoff their rifles at our barricades. Ten or fifteen minutes passed, andthen, as if the growing solitude were oppressing them, these lastsnipers desisted, and, coolly rising and disclosing their brightlycoloured tunics and sombre turbans, they sauntered off in full view. Isaw half a dozen go off in this way. Clearly something remarkable washappening and our astonishment deepened. 

Presently the word ran round our half-mile of barricades that a board, with big Chinese characters written across it, had been placed by aChinese soldier bearing the conventional white flag of truce on theparapet of the north bridge, where J----, the first man killed, hadfallen, and that the curious board was exciting everyone'sastonishment. Getting leave to absent myself, I ran into the BritishLegation, and from a scaffolding not a hundred yards from the bridge Isaw the mysterious placard with my own eyes. Already binoculars andtelescopes had been busily adjusted, and all the sinologues musteredin the British Legation had roughly written copies of the message intheir hands and were disputing as to the exact meaning. It was onlythen that I realised what a strange medley of nationalities had beencollected together in this siege. Frenchmen, Russians, Germans, Japanese, English, Americans, and many others were all arguingtogether, until finally H----, the great administrator, was calledupon to decide. The legend ran:

"In accordance with the Imperial commands to protect the Ministers, firing will cease immediately and a despatch will be delivered at theImperial canal-bridge. "

A vast commotion was created, as you may judge, when this newscirculated among the refugee Ministers and all the heterogeneous crowdwho have been behaving so strangely since the serious business began. Not one of us had relished the idea of being massacred after themanner of the Indian Mutiny, but there are different ways of behavingunder such perils; some of those we had witnessed would not bearrelating. 

In a very short time, indeed, a suitable reply had been writtenbriefly in Chinese on another board, but the finding of a messengerwas more difficult. We must send a proper man. A chinaman was atlength discovered, who, after having been invested with the customaryofficial hat and the long official coat, was persuaded to advancetowards the bridge bearing our message and piteously waving a whiteflag to show that he likewise was a harbinger of peace. The manprogressed but slowly towards the Imperial bridge, and twice he gaveunmistakable signs of wishing to bolt; but urged on by cries and afrantic waving, he at last reached the parapet on which leaned ourenemy's placard. Then depositing our own reply, his courage left himcompletely, and he incontinently bolted for our lines as hard as hecould run, casting his dignity to the winds. In his haste he had sethis board all askew, and the enemy could not possibly have understoodit. But no arguments could induce our messenger to return. He swore, indeed, that he had just escaped in time, as the enemy's rifles wereall pointed towards him from a number of positions just beneath theImperial city wall, which we could not see from our lines. So nothingmore was done by our headquarters, and an hour passed away with allthe world waiting, but with no Imperial despatch brought to us. 

The sun was now down only six inches above the pink walls--in anotherhour it would be dark and our position would be exactly the same asbefore. On all sides our fighting line had clambered over theirbarricades and were examining the enemy's silent ones with curiosity. Beyond the fortified Hanlin courtyards, to the north of the BritishLegation courtyards, which had been occupied and heavily sandbaggedafter the big fires there, so as to keep the enemy at a safedistance--the mass of ruins were indeed as silent and as deserted as agraveyard. Cautiously escalading walls and pushing down narrowalleyways, some of us advanced several hundred yards to see what washappening beyond; and presently, standing on the top of an unbrokenwall line, there were the Palace gates and the mysterious pink wallsalmost within a stone's throw of us. The sun had moved still fartherwest, and its slanting rays now struck the Imperial city, under whoseorders we had been so lustily bombarded, with a wonderful light. Justoutside the Palace gates were crowds of Manchu and Chinesesoldiery--infantry, cavalry, and gunners grouped all together in onevast mass of colour. Never in my life have I seen such a wonderfulpanorama--such a brilliant blaze in such rude and barbaricsurroundings. There were jackets and tunics of every colour;trouserings of blood red embroidered with black dragons; greattwo-handed swords in some hands; men armed with bows and arrows mixingwith Tung Fu-hsian's Kansu horsemen, who had the most modern carbinesslung across their backs. There were blue banners, yellow bannersembroidered with black, white and red flags, both triangular andsquare, all presented in a jumble to our wondering eyes. The Kansusoldiery of Tung Fu-hsiang's command were easy to pick out from amongthe milder looking Peking Banner troops. Tanned almost to a colour ofchocolate by years of campaigning in the sun, of sturdy and muscularphysique, these men who desired to be our butchers showed by theiraspect what little pity we should meet with if they were allowed tobreak in on us. Men from all the Peking Banners seemed to be therewith their plain and bordered jackets showing their divisions; but ofBoxers there was not a sign. Where had the famed Boxers vanished to?

Thus we stood for some time, the enemy gazing as eagerly at us as weat them. Strict orders must have come from the Palace, for not ahostile sign was made. It was almost worth five days of siege just tosee that unique sight, which took one back to times when savage hordeswere overrunning the world. Peking is still so barbaric!

We sent back word that it might be possible to parley with the enemy, and to learn, perhaps, the reason for this sudden truce; and soonseveral members of the so-called general committee, whose organisationand duties I confess I do not clearly understand, came out from ourlines and stood waving their handkerchiefs. But it was some timebefore the gaudy-coated enemy would pay any attention to theseadvances, and finally one of our committeemen, to show that he was aman of peace and really wished to speak with them, went slowly forwardwith his hands held high above his head. Then a thin, sallow Chinese, throwing a sword to the ground, advanced from the Palace walls, andfinally these two were standing thirty or forty yards apart andwithin hail of one another. Then a parley began which led to nothing, but gave us some news. The board ordering firing to cease had beencarried out under instructions from Jung Lu--Jung Lu being theGeneralissimo of the Peking field forces. A despatch would certainlyfollow, because even now a Palace meeting was being held. The EmpressDowager, the man continued, was much distressed, and had given ordersto stop the fighting; the Boxers were fools. .. . 

Then the soldier waved a farewell, and retreated cautiously, pickinghis way back through the ruins and masses of _debris_. Several timeshe stopped and raised the head of some dead man that lay there, victimto our rifles, and peered at the face to see whether it wasrecognisable. In five days we have accounted for very many killed andwounded, and numbers still lie in the exposed positions where theyfell. 

The disappearing figure of that man was the end to the last clue wecame across regarding the meaning of this sudden quiet. The shadowsgradually lengthened and night suddenly fell, and around us werenothing but these strangely silent ruins. There was barricade forbarricade, loophole for loophole, and sandbag for sandbag. What hasbeen levelled to the ground by fire has been heaped up once more sothat the ruins themselves may bring more ruin!

But although we exhausted ourselves with questions, and many of ushoped against hope, the hours sped slowly by and no message came. ThePalace, enclosed in its pink walls, had slunk to sleep, or forgottenus--or, perhaps, had even found that there could be no truce. Thenmidnight came, and as we were preparing, half incredulously, to go tosleep, we truly knew. Crack, crack, went the first shots from somedistant barricade, and bang went an answering rifle on our side. Awakened by these echoes, the firing grew naturally and mechanicallyto the storm of sound we have become so accustomed to, and the shorttruce was forgotten. It is no use; we must go through to the end. .. . 

VI

SHELLS AND SORTIES

3rd July, 1900. 

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For a week I have written nothing, absolutely nothing, and have noteven taken a note, nor cared what happened to me or to anybody else. How could I when I have been so crushed by unending sentry-go, by suchan unending roar of rifles and crash of shells, that I merelymechanically wake at the appointed hour, mechanically perform my dutyand as mechanically fall asleep again. My _ego_ has been crushed outof me, and I have become, doubtless, quite rightly so, aninsignificant atom in a curious thing called a siege. No mortal undersuch circumstances, no matter how faithful to an appointed task, canput pencil to paper, and attempt to sketch the confusion and smokearound him. You may try, perhaps, as I have tried, and then, suddenly, before you can realise it, you fall half asleep and pencil and paperare thrice damned. 

For we have been worked so hard, those of us who do not care and areyoung, and the enemy is pushing in so close and so persistently, thatwe have not much farther to run if the signs that I see about me gofor anything. Artillery, to the number of some eight or ten pieces, isnow grinding our barricades to pieces and making our outworks more andmore untenable. Rifle bullets float overhead in such swarms that by acomparison of notes I now estimate that there must be from five tosix thousand infantry and dismounted cavalry ranged against us. Minesare being already run under so many parts of our advanced lines, andtheir dangers are so near that on the outworks we fall asleep ready tobe blown up. .. . 

. .. Nor are the dangers merely prospective. ' They are actual andgrimly disgusting. During the past week the casualty list has gone onrapidly increasing, and to-day our total is close on one hundredkilled and wounded in less than two weeks' intermittent fighting outof a force of four hundred and fifty rifles. The shells occasionallyfly low and take you on the head; the bullets flick through loopholesor as often take you in the back from some enfilading barricades, andthus through two agencies you can be hastened towards the Unknown. Asfar as I am personally concerned, it is largely a matter of foodwhether this affects one acutely or not. If you have a full stomachyou do not mind so much, and even shrug your shoulders should the mannext to you be hit; but at four or five in the morning, wheneverything is pale and damp, and you are stomach-sick, it isnerve-shaking to see a man brutally struck and gasping under the blow. I have seen this happen three times; once it was truly horrible, for Iwas so splashed with blood. .. . 

It is also largely a matter of days. On some days, you think, in acurious sort of a way, that your turn has come, and that it will beall over in a few minutes. You try to convince yourself by silentarguing that such thoughts are the merest foolishness, that you are atheart a real coward; but in spite of every device the feeling remains, and in place of your former unconcern a nervousness takes possessionof you. This nervousness is not exactly the nervousness of yourself, for your outer self surveys your inner depths with some contempt, butthe slight fear remains. You do not know what it is--it isinexplicable. Yet it is there. 

Yesterday I had the experience in full force, just as a line of us inextended order were galloping up to a threatened position. My bootsuntied and twice nearly tripped me. I had to stop, perhaps twoseconds, perhaps five, dropping on my knee with my head low beside it. For some reason I did not finish tying the laces. I sprang up, threwmy right leg forward preparatory to doubling, and then _ping_--I wasspinning on the ground, laughing at my own clumsiness in falling down. Then I glanced to see why my right knee-cap stung me so much. Istopped laughing. A bullet had split across the skin--_rafle_, theFrench call it--and a shred of my trousers, mixed with some shreds ofskin, was hanging down covered with blood. Half a second before myhead had been exactly where my knee was, and had I not moved, spurredby some curious intuition, I would have been dead on the ground. Perhaps one's inner consciousness knows more than one thinks. .. . 

But such personal experiences are trivial compared with what is goingon around us generally. I should not speak of them. For if the Chinesecommands are closing in on us on every side, our fighting line isbiting back as savagely as it can, and is giving them better than theygive us when we get to grips. But in spite of this our position isless enviable than ever, and it requires no genius to see that if theChinese commanders persist in their present policy the Legations mustfall unless relief comes in another two weeks. 

Look at the Su wang-fu and the plucky little Japanese colonel! Youwill, perhaps, remember that I said that the great flanking wall ofthe Su wang-fu was far too big a task for the Japanese command, andthat sooner or later they would have to give way. It has been proveddays ago that what I said was correct, for slowly but surely the fireof two Chinese guns has demolished successively the outer wall, theenclosed courtyards behind it, and then a line of houses linkedtogether by field-works hastily constructed from the rubble lyingaround. It was my duty to be one of a post six men hastily sent hereand entrenched on the fringe of our defence in one of these Chinesehouses. It was a curious experience. It lasted for hours. 

Inside the partly demolished wall of one house we were forced to squaton a staging, peeping at the enemy, who was not more than twenty yardsoff, lying _perdu_ just behind a confused mass of low-lyingbarricades. These riflemen, flung far forward of the main Chinesepositions in this quarter, lay very silent, hardly moving hour afterhour. A couple of hundred yards or so behind them, the main body ofthe enemy, secure behind massive earthen and brick works, poured in anunending fire on our devoted heads with a vigour which never seemed toflag. Our loopholes, which we had carefully blocked up with loosebricks so that the merest cracks remained, spat dust at us as theenemy's bullets persistently pecked at the outside, but could gain noentrance. Sometimes a single missile would slue its way in througheverything and end with a sob against the inside wall. Once one camecrash through and struck the Japanese who was next to me full in theface. It knocked out two teeth, cut his mouth and his cheek so thatthey bled red blood hour after hour, making him hideous to look on;but the Japanese, calmly untying the clout which encased his head, bound it instead across the wound, merely cursing the enemy and notstirring an inch. The rest of us had not time to note much even ofthat which was taking place right alongside of us; for we had ordersto be ready at any moment for a forward rush. If it had come we shouldhave been caught in a trap and lost. That I knew and understood. 

We had stood this storm for a couple of hours, and were beginning torevenge ourselves on the advanced line of skirmishers by winging themwhenever an incautious movement disclosed an arm or a leg, although wehad the strictest orders not to fire except to check a rush, when anew danger presented itself, and was added to our alreadyuncomfortable position. An antiquated gun that had been sendingscreeching shells over our heads, had evidently been given orders todrive us from where we lay, for the shells which had been flying highmoved lower and lower, and buzzed more and more fiercely, until atlast one struck the roof. The aim, however, was still too high, forthe _debris_ of tiles, timber and mortar clattered down the other sideof the house and did us no harm. 

It may have been five or ten minutes when a tremendous blow shook ourstaging, and a vast shower of falling tiles and bricks drowned allother sound. A shell, aimed well and low, had taken the roof full andfair, and brought a big piece in on top of us. For some time we couldsee nothing, nor realise the extent of the damage done, for clouds ofchoking dust filled our improvised fort, and made us oblivious toeverything except a supreme desire for fresh air. Pushing ourloopholes open, regardless of the enemy's fire, we gasped for breath;never have I been so choked and so distressed, and presently, the airclearing a little, a huge rent in the roof was disclosed. On theground behind lay piles upon piles of rubbish and broken tiles, andperilously near our heads a huge rafter sagged downwards, half splitin two. We were debating how long we could stand under suchcircumstances, when a second shock shook the building, and once morewe were deluged with dust and dirt. This time the hanging rafter wasdislodged and fell sullenly with a heavy crash to the ground; and now, in addition to the gap in the roof, a long rent appeared in the rearwall. Our top line of loopholes was obviously, worse than useless, andas it seemed more than likely that with the accurate range they hadgot the Chinese gunners would soon be pitching their shells right intoour faces, we decided to climb down off the staging and man a lowerline of loopholes pierced two feet above the ground line. Here wecould see very little in front on account of the ruins. We were not aminute too soon, for the very next missile struck our front wallfairly and squarely, and showered bricks and ragged bits of segment onto the platform above us. Luckily the planks and timber with whichthis edifice was stoutly constructed saved our heads, and the loosenedbricks, piling up on the improvised flooring above us, made ourposition below even more secure. Seizing the breathing time the clumsyreloading of the gun attacking us gave, we pulled spare rafters andbricks around us in the shape of a blockhouse, and thus apparentlyburied in the ruins of the house, we-were soon in reality quitecomfortably and securely ensconced. Slowly and methodically theartillerymen demolished the upper part of our fort, and brought tonsand tons of bricks and slates rattling about our ears; but with theexception of many bruises impartially distributed among all of us, noone was further hurt. After two hours' bombardment and throwing fortyor fifty shells right on top of us, the enemy apparently tired of theamusement, and we, on our part, seeing no good in remaining where wewere, sallied out of the side of the building and suddenly faced theskirmishers, who were still lying on the sunburned bricks. The Chinesesoldiery, alarmed at this sudden appearance when they must havethought us dead, took precipitously to flight, and in their haste toescape so exposed themselves that we had no difficulty in rolling overa couple. As soon as they had retreated we reoccupied a littleposition slightly in advance of the house, and lay there contentedlymunching biscuit and having a pull at the water bottles. It isextraordinary how callous you become. 

It was not until four or five o'clock in the afternoon that we wererelieved, and then in a fashion that highly flattered our vanity. Thelittle Japanese colonel appeared in person with a small force ofriflemen and some stretcher bearers, and he fell back in astonishmentwhen he saw our occupation. We had pushed forward a lookout a fewyards in advance, and the rest of us were playing noughts and crosseson some broken tiles. In front of us the barricades were silent, andthe Japanese sailor so curiously wounded in the earlier part of theday was fiercely wrangling with an English volunteer, who had taughthim the game and had just insulted him by saying he was cheating. Thecolonel declared he had thought us all dead, but that although he hadsent twice to find out how we were faring, the tremendous storm ofshells and bullets raging round our entire lines had made itimpossible to reinforce us. The French, he said, had been so heavilybeaten that he had had to prepare for a general retreat into theBritish Legation; the Germans had been swept off the Tartar Wall; theAmericans had been shaken and almost driven back; and had not theChinese themselves tired of the game, another hour would have seen ageneral retreat sounded. We were much commended for not having fallenback, but we pointed out that it had been really nothing, since we hadonly had one man slightly wounded. Still, it was an experience hard tobeat to be left in a house practically levelled to the ground byshell-fire, and as I got eighteen hours off duty granted me, duringwhich time I slept solidly without waking once, the whole affairremains most firmly impressed on the tablets of my memory. It is onlywhen you have been through it that you understand what you can endure. 

All this was some days ago, and was really nothing to what we had theday before yesterday, which happened to be the 1st of July. 

The Chinese artillery practice, although poor, the guns and shellsbeing hopelessly ancient, had become so annoying and so distressingthat it was determined to adopt a policy of reprisals, taking the formof sorties, and by bayonetting the gunners and damaging the guns if wecould not drag them off, to induce the enemy to make his offensiveless galling. The ball was opened by an attack which was miserablyconducted on the selfsame gun that had so harshly treated that littlepost I have described a few days before. On the 1st of the month, Lieutenant P----, the commander of the Italian hillock, laid a plan ofsortie before headquarters to which consent was given. Supported byBritish marines and volunteers, the Italians were to make a sortie inforce from their position and seize the gun. The Japanese were toco-operate from their barricades and trenches by opening a heavy fire, and moving slowly forward in extended order as soon as the Italiancharge had commenced. All the morning the Italians were noisilypreparing, and as soon as their attack was delivered, it justified allwe had already thought about them. They issued from their lines with awild rush, but no sooner did the Chinese fire strike them than theybroke and fled, losing several killed and wounded, and fighting likemadmen to escape through a passageway which led back. P---- was veryseverely wounded in the arm, and had to give up his command, and thebodies of the Italians killed were never recovered. A section of theBritish Legation students, who had gone forward with the Italians, hada man badly wounded, and the sight of this young fellow staggeringback with his clothes literally dripping with blood gave the BritishLegation inmates a start it took some time to recover from. Later, itturned out that P----'s sortie plan was based on a faulty map; thatthe whole command found itself being fired on from a dozen quartersbefore fifty yards had been covered; and that there were nothing butimpossible walls and barricades. But still this does not excuse thefact that while the Italians were behaving like madmen the youngstudents stood stock-still and awaited orders to retire. In truth, weare being educated by events. 

The loss of the Italian commander has made the Italian posts moreuseless than ever. These men are now nervous, and have hardly a roundof ammunition left, although they were given some of the capturedChinese Mausers and a fresh stock of cartridges three days ago. Everyshadow is fired at by them at night, and the vague uneasiness whichovercomes everyone when dozens of the enemy are moving in the inklyblack only a few feet off seems more than they can stand. 

Meanwhile the French Legation, thanks to this gun-fire, is now but aruined mass of buildings, a portion of which has fallen into Chinesehands. Alarmed at the progress which has been made everywhere, M----, the British Minister, who is still the nominal commander-in-chief, hasfor days been pestering the French commandant to send him men toreinforce other points. The same stubborn answer has been sent back, that not a sailor can be spared, and that none will be sent. Thiscurious contest between the commander of the French lines and theBritish Minister has ended in a species of deadlock, which bodes illfor us all. The Frenchman believes that the remains of the Frenchlines form a vital part in the defence; the British Minister, investedwith military rank by his colleagues, instead of examining the entirearea of the defence carefully with his own eyes and seeing exactlywhether this is so or not, never ventures beyond the limits of theBritish Legation. At least, no one has ever seen him. Even theso-called chief of the staff, who is the commander of the Britishmarines, does not regularly visit the French lines. Practically, itmay be said that while there is death and murder outside there is onlyarmed neutrality within. It is an extraordinary position. 

In spite of the way they have been treated up to the 1st Of July, theFrench and Austrians still sullenly cling to the ruins of the Frenchbarricades. But on the 1st the Chinese, elated at their success incapturing the eastern half of the French Legation, pushed theirbarricades nearer and nearer, and only one hundred yards behind theiradvanced lines they brought two guns into action, firing segment andshrapnel alternately. Under this devastating bombardment, almost _a boutportant_, as the French say, the last line of French trenches and theirmain-gate blockhouse became untenable. Pieces of shell tore througheverything; men were wounded more and more quickly, and in the mostsheltered part a French volunteer, Wagner, had his entire face blown offhim, dying a horrible death. The French commander, disheartened by thetreatment he had received from the commander-in-chief, and convincedthat all his men would be blown to pieces if they remained where theywere, ordered his bugler to sound the retire. The clarion's notes roseshrilly above this storm of fire, and dragging their dead with them, theFranco-American survivors retreated into the fortified line behindthem--the Peking hotel. Here they manned the windows and barricades ofthe intrepid Swiss' hostelry, which had already been heavily damaged bythe Chinese guns. A determination was arrived at not to be driven out ofthis hotel until the last man had been killed; it was necessary at allcosts to prevent the enemy from breaking in so far. More volunteers werebrought to reinforce this line, and the sinking spirits of the Frenchwere restored; for within half an hour of their retreat the bugler hadsounded the advance again, and with a rush the abandoned positions werereoccupied and the Chinese driven back. Then the guns stopped theircannonade, and a breathing space was given which was sufficient torepair some of the damage done. 

While these stirring events had been following each other in quicksuccession down on level ground, the grim Tartar Wall has been at onceour salvation and destroyer of men. The Germans have been having aterrible time, and although they have borne themselves with soldierycomposure, they have been at last driven clean down withheart-breaking losses. The guns, which the Chinese had been firingfrom the great Ha-ta Gate half a mile off, were advanced during thenight of the 30th June to within a hundred yards of the imperfectGerman defences, and on the 1st of July four marines were killed andsix wounded out of a post of fifteen men with nerve-shaking rapidity. The Chinese soldiers, then swarming forward under the Tartar Wallitself, threatened the little blockhouse at the base, which kept upconnection with the Club and the German Legation line of barricades, and soon there was no help for it, the eastern Tartar Wall posts hadto be abandoned. With the German retirement the Americans abandonedtheir positions facing west and rushed down to safety below. It cannotbe said that the Americans are afraid; they have merely realised fromthe beginning what a few of us have understood. The motley crowdgathered in the British Legation, as well as our commander-in-chief, were much stirred by the American retirement, for they already sawthemselves directly bombarded from the menacing height of the citywalls--a prospect which can enchant no one, as the confusion alreadyreigning would have been worse confounded had all the elderly personsbeen given a taste of what the outworks are experiencing. So a councilof war was hastily convened very much after the style of the Boercommandoes, with everybody talking at once, and it was at once decidedthat the blessed Tartar Wall must be at once reoccupied at any cost. A mixed force, under the command of the American captain, stormed backagain, and with a rush found themselves back in their old quarterswith everything intact. The representation of the American marines hadat last made themselves felt, for British marines took the places ofhalf the Americans, who were given duty elsewhere. We thought thatthat had solved the question. 

But this was on the 1st of the month. To-day, the 3rd of the month, the position became once more untenable, for the Chinese now beingable to attack the wall defences from both sides, were pushing theirbarricades rapidly closer and closer until only a few feet separatedthem from their prey. So more men were called for, and this morning, after a short harangue, a storming-party, numbering sixty bayonets andcomposed of British, Americans and Russians, dashed over into theChinese lines killing thirty of the enemy and driving the rest back ingreat confusion. It was a brilliant little affair and well conducted, but unfortunately Captain M----, who commanded, was wounded in thefoot, and the Americans have no officer now fit to lead them. It is acurious fact worth recording that owing to wounds and staff work, neither the British nor Americans have any good officers left. It isonly many days of this close-quarter fighting that shows you thatwithout good officers no men care for moving out of shelter. Unlessthere are men who will sacrifice themselves, the ordinary rank andfile feel under no obligation to do anything more arduous than to liecomfortably firing at the enemy. You can have no idea how hard it isto get men to make sorties; on the slightest provocation, once theyhave left their own barricades, they rush back to safety. .. . 

Fortunately with all these events, we have been given something elseto think about, and it is a thing of this sort which re-establishesconfidence more than any warlike deeds. I mention it because it is thesimple truth. It is also a pretty commentary on _la bete humaine_. 

You remember the V-shaped barricade garrisoned by Russian sailors, Ispoke about a few days ago? Well, if you do not happen to remember, Imerely need say again, that it is a barricade facing both ways onLegation Street, which now in the fulness of time has blossomed into awhole network of barricades which protect our inner lines and theBritish Legation base from any rush of the enemy which might succeedmomentarily in getting past our outworks. The Russian sailors whofurnish these posts have been having a very easy time with nothing todo but to eat and to sleep, and to mount guard, turn and turn about. Of course, this comparative idleness in all the storm and stressaround us gave them time to look around and to loot the vacant housesnear them. Not content with this, some of them discovered that a largenumber of buxom Chinese schoolgirls from the American missions werelodged but a stone's throw from their barricades. The missionaries, fearing that some scandal might occur, had placed some elderly nativeChristians in charge of the schoolgirls, with the strictest orders toprevent any one from entering their retreat. This was effective forsome time. One dark night, however, when the usual fusillade along theouter lines began, the sailors made tremendous preparations for anattack which they said was bound to reach them. At eleven o'clock theydeveloped the threatened attack by emptying a warning rifle or two inthe air. Then warming to their work, and with their dramatic Slavimaginations charmed with the _mise en scene_, they emptied all theirrifles into the air. Then they started firing volley after volley thatcrashed horribly in the narrow lanes, retreating the while into theforbidden area. Fiercely fighting their imaginary foe they fell backslowly; and as soon as the elderly native converts had sufficientlyrealised the perils to which they were exposed, these cowardly malesfled hurriedly through the passageways which have been cut into theBritish Legation. The sailors then placed their rifles against a walland disappeared. Unfortunately for them a strong guard sent toinvestigate this unexpected firing almost immediately appeared, andpresently the sailors were rescued, some with much scratched faces. The girls, catlike, had known how to protect themselves!

The next day there was a terrible scene, which everybody soon heardabout. Baron von R----, the Russian commander, on being acquaintedwith the facts of the affair, swore that his honour and the honour ofRussia demanded that the culprits be shot. I shall never forget thatabsurd scene when R----, who speaks the vilest English, demanded withterrible gestures that the ring-leaders be identified by the victims. It was pointed out to him that the affair had occurred when all wasdark--that the whole post was implicated--that it was impossible toname any one man. Then R---- swore he would shoot the whole lot ofthem as a lesson; he would not tolerate such things. But the very nextday, when a notice was posted on the bell-tower of the BritishLegation forbidding everyone under severe penalties to approach thisdelectable building, R---- had his _revanche a la Russe_, as hecalled it. Taking off his cap, and assuming a very polite air of doubtand perplexity, he inquired of the lady missionary committee whichover-sees the welfare of these girls, "_Pardon, mesdames_, " he saidpurposely in French, "_cette affiche est-ce seulement pour les civilesou aussi pour les militaires!_"

VII

THE HOSPITAL AND THE GRAVEYARD

5th July, 1900. 

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It depends very much on moments as to whether one has time to laugh orto cry. The last time I wrote, we were nearly all laughing--when wehad the time; to-day most of us are doing the reverse. Be one ever sohardened, it is impossible to go to the humble hospital and the littlegraveyard of our battered lines without tender feelings welling up, and perhaps even a silent tear dropping. We have all been to eitherone or the other place to-day; our losses are mounting up. In thehospital alone there are now fifty sorely wounded and tortured men, groaning and moving this way and that. The bullet and shell woundshave so far been distinguished for their deadliness, probably becauseof the close ranges at which we are fighting. It is a strangeassembly, in all truth, to be mustered within the precincts of adiplomatic Chancery, wherein were prepared only a few short weeks agodry-as-dust documents, which so hastened the storm by not promptlyarresting it. For the Chancery of the British Legation is now thehospital, and on despatch tables, lately littered with diplomaticdocuments, operations are now almost hourly performed and mutteredgroans wrung from maimed men. It is a curious thought this--to thinkthat the vengeance of foolish despatches overtakes innocent men andlays them groaning and bleeding on the very spot where the ink whichframed them flowed. It does not often happen that cause and effectmeet like this. 

It is a wretched hospital, too, even though it is the best which canbe made. Every window has to be bricked in partially; every entrancewhere bullets might flick in must be closed; and in the heat and dustof a Peking summer the stench is terrible. Worse still are the flies, which, attracted by the newly spilt blood of strong men, swarm sothickly that another torture is added. Half the nationalities ofEurope lie groaning together, each calling in his native tongue forwater, or for help to loosen a bandage which in the shimmering heathas become unbearable. And as the rifle cracking rises to the storm italways does every few hours, more men will be brought in and laid onthat gruesome operating table. The very passageways have been alreadyinvaded by men lying on long chairs, because there are no more beds. Even they are happy; they have crept to a place where they can gasp inquiet; that is all they ask for. 

In a hideous little room at the back the dead are prepared for theirlast resting place--prepared in a manner which is shocking, but is thebest that can be done. I cannot describe it. In the cool of theevening, when perhaps the enemy's fire has slackened a little, and thebullets only sob very faintly overhead, and the shells have ceasedtheir brutal attentions, stretcher parties come quietly and carry outthe corpses. That is the worst sight of all. 

There are no coffins, and the dead, shrouded in white cloth, havesometimes their booted feet pushing through the coarse fabric in whichthey are sewn. Never shall I forget the sight of one man, a great, long fellow, who seemed immense in his white shroud. A movement ofthe bearers struggling under his unaccustomed weight burst his windingsheet and his feet shot out as if he were making a last effort toescape from the pitiless grasp of Mother Earth extending her armstowards him in the form of a narrow trench. There was somethinghideous and terrible in these booted feet. One man, unnerved at thesight, gave a short cry, as if he had been struck. That is the brutalside of life--death. 

There is also no room and not time to give each one a separate grave, these our dead; and so, strapped to a plank, they are lowered into theground, a few shovelfuls of earth are hastily dropped in on top, andthen another corpse is laid down. Sometimes there are three or four ina single grave, and when the grave is filled up the dead men's orderis written on rough crosses. That is all. 

At such burials you may see the real truth which is hidden by the maskof every-day life. Men you thought were good fellows turn out to behearts of stone; the true hearts of gold are generally those who aredevil-may-care and indifferently regarded when there is no _Sturm undDrang. _ I, who have never been religious, begin to understand whatsuch phrases mean--"that many are called, but few are chosen. " It isnot possible that the final valuation can be that of the every-dayworld. Then when I think of these things, I long to get away from thisimprisonment; to revalue things in a new light; to see and tounderstand. 

But as you pass away from this torture room and this execution grounda sullen anger seizes you. Why should so many be called--why should wedie thus in a hole?. .. 

VIII

THE FAILURE

6th July, 1900. 

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I have always found that there is a corrective for everything in thisworld. Action is the best one of all, people say. It is not always so. 

The little Japanese colonel stood this morning pulling his thinmoustaches very thoughtfully and looking earnestly ahead of him when Icame on duty with a dozen others. In front was a great mass of ruins, concealing a couple of entrenched posts of our own men, where I wasgoing, and farther on, half masked by the ruins, some of the enemy'sadvanced barricades lay. 

"I think, " said the colonel finally, pronouncing on the situation withinherited Japanese caution, "that it will be very difficult, but wemust try. "

He referred to the wretched Chinese gun belonging to the redoubtableTung Fu-hsiang, as we had discovered from big banners pitched near by, which had been steadily and methodically smashing in the northernfront of our defence, and was fast rendering our lines untenable here. We always went on duty at these posts with little enthusiasm. We couldnot hit back. Another gun, a newcomer, had also been posted somewherenear the ruins of the Chinese Customs, as if encouraged by the successof the other one, and was now playing on the main-gate posts of the Suwang-fu, and rendering even these more and more dangerous for us tohold permanently. 

The newcomer was, however, still, comparatively speaking, far away; itwas our old friend we most dreaded. Well hidden, it pelted us withrusty but effective shells night and day. To make another sortie washighly dangerous for the ill-success of the first one in this quarterhad certainly encouraged the Chinese, and this time we would have tobe prepared for a very vigorous defence, which might bring on a seriesof counter-attacks. Then, too, the wall-split and barricaded groundsbeyond our own feeble defences meant that a single false step wouldlead us into an _impasse_ from which we could not lightly escape. Rifle-fire would pelt us at close quarters, shells would burst rightin our midst; it was not a pleasant prospect even for the biggestfire-eaters of our lines. We had, however, to remember that so long aswe held firm on the outer rim of our ruins would the enormous piles ofbrickwork which lie around, either in the form of ruined houses orwrecked compound walls, act as traverses and make the heavy rifle andcannon fire being poured in nothing very terrible. But as soon as weare forced to abandon our advanced lines the enemy speedily will swarmin, and then no sortie, however well planned, can dislodge him. Hewill make our best defences his parallels--and in a week he will beable to split us in half. These things made immediate action reallyadvisable, and soon the word was passed round that a big sortie was tobe made at once. 

Once more all the morning was spent in making preparations. Marinesand volunteer reserves were brought over from the British Legation toline the trenches and barricades, and cover the advance with a heavyrifle fire; the Italians, who were to co-operate by jumping down offtheir northwestern hillock and rushing forward, were warned for duty, and had fresh ammunition served out to them; and finally volunteerswere called for, and the command of the sortie handed over to aJapanese officer, Captain A----. 

When everything was ready, we stood for a minute massed together whilesome parting instructions were given. We presented a curious andunique spectacle. There were fifteen Japanese sailors in the dirtyremains of their blue uniforms, without caps or jumpers, with brokenboots and begrimed faces; and alongside of them were twenty-fivemiscellaneous volunteers, some with bayonets to their rifles, somewith none--but all determined to get home on the enemy at all coststhis time. There had been sixteen days' incessant work at the trenchesand barricades with next to no sleep. Mud and brickwork clung to usall with an insistence which no amount of rough dusting would remove. We were a tattered and disreputable crowd. 

There was little time to reflect or to cast one's eyes around, however, for no sooner had Captain A---- received his lastinstructions than his bugler sounded the charge, and from the Italianlines, eight hundred feet away, which were hidden from us by walls andtrees, came an answering blast. The Italians were ready. I gripped myrifle and took the flank of my detachment. 

We tumbled forward in silence, forty effectives in all, with a coupledozen native converts behind us, who had been provided with some ofthe captured rifles and swords. As soon as we were clear, CaptainA----, who was a tiny man, even among a tiny race, drew a littlesword, and pointing to the enemy's barricades now looming up veryclose, ordered his bugler to sound the charge once more. The notesripped out, and giving a mixed attempt at a European cheer, wequickened our pace, running as rapidly as we could over the rubbishwhich covered the ground and taking advantage of every piece of cover. A few stray shots pecked at us, but in this quarter, so strange thatit appeared unreal, the enemy gave hardly a sign of life. Behind us, on our left, a tremendous fusillade was in progress, and the crackingof the rifles came back to us in one high-pitched roar. But theintervening trees and the ruins did not allow us to see or understandwhat was the cause. We had completely lost touch with the others. 

Rushing round a corner, we suddenly came on the gun we had been sentto capture; it was perched high on a long, loopholed barricade, andstood quite silent and alone. We gave a shout and pitched forward in amomentary ecstasy of delight, but like a flash the scene around uschanged. Dozens of soldiers jumped up around us, looking every bitlike startled pheasants in their bright uniforms, and retired, firingrapidly. This, as if a preconcerted plan, was the signal for atremendous fire on all sides, which absolutely surprised us. Fromevery adjacent ruin and roof the enemy appeared by magic, and fired atus with ever-increasing vigour. Now just above us the selfsame gunwhich had demolished my outpost house a few days before loomedinvitingly, and determined to have our revenge and stick the gunnerslike pigs if we could only get to grips, a knot of us ran on. Thebugler blew a few sharp notes to rally some of those who were hangingback in confusion, and finally, riflemen in advance and the convertsherded tremblingly behind by a brave Japanese Secretary of Legationin spectacles, we succeeded in climbing up on to the gun platform. Thegunners, who had been lying beside their weapon, fled precipitately assoon as they saw our heads come over the barricade, but to our rightand left the enemy was now swarming forward with frantic yells. Theconverts, who were to drag off the gun while we covered them with ourrifles and bayonets, could not be made to advance, but clung to thewall screaming piteously. We beat some of them over the head with ourrifle-butts and kicked them savagely in a fever of anxiety to put somespirit in them, but nothing could move them forward. It must be alwaysso; the Christian Chinaman face to face with his fierce, heathencountrymen is as a lamb; he cannot fight. Then before we knew it thelittle Japanese captain was on the ground, two or three Japanesesailors fell too, a _sauve qui peut_ began, and everything was ininextricable disorder. The Chinese commanders, seeing our plight, urged their men forward, and soon hundreds of rifles were crashing atus, and savage-looking men in brightly coloured tunics and their redtrouser-covers swinging in the breeze leaped forward on us. It was aterrible sight. There was nothing to do but to retire, which we did, dragging in our wounded with brutal energy. At a ruined wall, half adozen of us made a stand, covering the retreat, which had degeneratedinto a rout, and, firing steadily at a close range, we dropped manafter man. Some of the Kansu soldiers rushed right up to us, and onlyfell a few feet from our rifles, yelling, "Sha, Sha, "--kill, kill, tothe last moment; and one fellow, as he was beaten down, threw a sword, which stabbed one of our men in the thigh and terribly wounded him. 

It must have been all over in a very few minutes, for the next thing Iremember is that we were all inside our lines again, and that my kneeswere bleeding profusely from the scrambling over barricades and ruins. We were completely out of breath from the excitement and the running, and most of us were crimson with rage at our ill-success when we hadpractically had everything in our own hands. Everyone was forshooting a convert or two as an example for the rest, but in the endit came to nothing. Meanwhile the fusillade against us grew enormouslyin vigour. From every side bullets flicked in huge droves. TheChinese, as if incensed at our enterprise, strove to repay us bypelting us unmercifully, and awakened into action by this persistentfiring, the roar of musketry and cannon soon extended to every sideuntil it crashed with unexampled fury. Messages came from half a dozenquarters for the reserves to be sent back, and in the hurry andgeneral confusion we could not learn what had happened to the Italiansor the rest of the enterprise. 

Meanwhile our wounded were lying on the ground, and the news soonspread that the Japanese surgeon had pronounced the little captain'scase hopeless. I went to see him as soon as I could, and seldom have Iseen a more pitiful sight. Lying on a coat thrown one the ground, withhis side torn open by an iron bullet, the stricken man looked like achild who had met with a terrible accident. He could not have beenmore than five feet high, and his sword, which was a tiny blade, aboutthirty inches long, was strapped to his wrist by a cord, which herefused to have released. Beating his arms up and down in the air withthat tiny sword bobbing with them, he struggled to master the pain, but the effort was too great for him, and he kept moaning in spite ofhimself. A few feet from him sat a wounded Japanese sailor, who hadbeen struck in the knee by a soft-nosed bullet. His trousers had beenripped up to put on a field dressing, and never have I before seen amore ghastly wound. The bullet had drilled into his knee-cap in a neatlittle hole, but the soft metal, striking the bony substance within, had splashed as it progressed through, with the result that the holemade on coming out was as big as the knee-cap itself. The sailor borehis wound with a stoicism which seemed to me superhuman. The sweat waspouring off his face in his agony, but he had stuffed a cap into hismouth so that he might not disgrace himself by crying out, and even inhis agony he lay perfectly still, with staring eyes, as he waited tobe carried to the operating table. 

Presently the captain died with a sudden stiffening, and news came infrom a number of other posts that men were falling, and we must detachsome of ours to reinforce threatened points. In utter gloom the dayended, and miserably tired, we got hardly any sleep until the smallhours. 

IX

AN INTERLUDE

8th July, 1900. 

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And yet in spite of such things there are plenty of interludes. For ofthe nine hundred and more European men, women and children besieged inthe Legation lines, many are playing no part at all. There are, ofcourse, some four hundred marines and sailors, and more than twohundred women and children. The first are naturally ranged in thefighting line; the second can be but non-combatants. But of theremainder, two hundred and more of whom are able-bodied, most areshirking. There are less than eighty taking an active part in thedefence--the eighty being all young men. The others have claimed theright of sanctuary, and will do nothing. At most they have beeninduced to form themselves into a last reserve, which, I hope, maynever be employed. If it is. .. . The duties of this reserve consist inmustering round the clanging bell of the Jubilee Tower in the BritishLegation when a general alarm is rung. When the firing becomes veryheavy that bell begins clanging. 

There was a general alarm the other night when I happened to be offduty, and I stopped in front of the bell-tower to see it all. The lastreserve tumbled from their sleeping-places in various stages ofdeshabille, all talking excitedly. The women had too much sense tomove a great deal, although the alarm might be a signal for anything. A few of them got up, too, and came out into the open; but themajority stayed where they were. Presently the commander-in chiefappeared in person in his pyjamas, twirling his moustaches, andlistened to the increasing fusillade and cannonade directed againstthe outposts. The din and roar, judged by the din and roar ofevery-day life, may have been nerve-breaking, but to any one who hadbeen so close to it for eighteen days it was nothing exceptional. Thenight attack, which had been heralded after the usual manner by afierce blowing of trumpets, simply meant thousands of rifles crashingoff together, and as far as the British Legation was concerned, youmight stand just as safely there as on the Boulevard des Italiens orin Piccadilly. There was a tremendous noise, and swarms of bulletspassing overhead, but that was all. The time had not arrived foractual assaults to be delivered; there was too much open ground to becovered. 

The groups of reserves stood and listened in awe, thecommander-in-chief twirled his moustaches with composure, and two orthree other refugee Plenipotentiaries slipped out and nervously waitedthe upshot of it all. It was a very curious scene. Well, the fusilladesoon reached the limit of its _crescendo_, and then with delightedsighs, the _diminuendo_ could plainly be divined. The Chineseriflemen, having blazed off many rounds of ammunition, and findingtheir rifle barrels uncomfortably warm, were plainly pulling them outof their loopholes and leaning them up against the barricades. The_diminuendo_ became more and more marked, and finally, except for theusual snipers' shots, all was over. So the reserves were dismissed andwent contentedly off to bed. As far as the actual defence wasconcerned, this comedy might have been left unplayed. In the densegloom those men could never have been moved anywhere. Such a manoeuvrewould have brought about a panic at once, for there is little mutualconfidence, and nothing has been done to promote it. 

At first, in the hurry and scurry and confusion of the initialattacks, when everything and everybody was unprepared and upset, thisstate of things escaped attention. Now all the fighting line isbecoming openly discontented. There is favouritism and incompetency ineverything that is being done. Two days ago a young Scotch volunteergot killed almost on purpose, because he was sick and tired of thecowardice and indecision. And now, not content with all this, there isa new folly. An alleged searchlight has been seen flickering on theskies at night, and M----, the British Minister, has in a burst ofoptimism declared that it is the relief under S---- signalling to us. Yet there are men who know exactly what it is--the opening of thedoors of a blast-furnace in the Chinese city, which sends up a ruddylight in certain weather. 

Discipline is becoming bad, too, and sailors and volunteers off dutyare looting the few foreign stores enclosed in our lines. Everythingis being taken, and the native Christians, finding this out, have beenpouring in bands when the firing ceases and wrecking everythingwhich they cannot carry away. 

A German marine killed one, and several have been dangerously wounded. In our present condition anything is possible. Still, thefortification work is proceeding steadily, and the appearance of thebase, the British Legation, has been miraculously changed. Enormousquantities of sandbags have been turned out and placed in position, and all the walls are now loopholed. With all this access of strength, we are much more secure, and yet our best contingents are being veryslowly but very continuously shot to pieces. Our casualty list is nowwell into the second hundred, and as the line of defenders thins, themen are becoming more savage. In addition to looting, there have beena number of attempts on the native girl converts, which have beenhushed up. .. . Ugly signs are everywhere, and the position becomes fromday to day less enviable. 

X

THE GUNS

10th July, 1900. 

 * * * * *

Had we a single gun how different it would be! We could parade itboldly under the enemy's nose; sweep his barricades and his advancedlines away in a cloud of dust and brick-chips; bombard his camps whichwe have located; make him sorry and ashamed . .. As it is we can donothing; we have not a single piece which can be called seriousartillery; and we must suffer the segment which the enemy affects inalmost complete silence. Listen to our list of weapons. 

First, there is the Italian one-pounder firing ballistite. It isabsolutely useless. Its snapping shells are so small that you canthrust them in your pocket without noticing them. This gun is merely aplaything. And yet being the best we have, it is wheeled unendinglyaround and fired at the enemy from a dozen different points. It maygive confidence, but that is all it can give. The other day I watchedit at work on a heavy barricade being constructed by night and day bythe methodical enemy. By night the Chinese soldiery work as openly asthey please, for no outpost may waste its ammunition by indiscriminateshooting. But during the day, orders or no orders, it has become rashfor the enemy to expose himself to our view; and even the fleetingglimpse of a moving hand is made the excuse for a hailstorm of fire. This has made excessive caution the order of the day, and you canalmost believe, when no rifles are firing to disturb such aconviction, that there are only dead men round us. Yet with nothing tobe seen, countless hands are at work; in spite of the greatestvigilance barricades and barriers grow up nearer and nearer to us bothnight and day; we are being tied in tighter. These mysteriousbarricades, built in parallels, are so cunningly constructed that ourfiercest sorties must in the end beat themselves to pieces againstbrick and stone; if the enemy can complete his plans we shall bechoked silently. That is why the Italian gun is so oftenrequisitioned. 

I was saying that I watched the one-pounder at work against theenemy's brick-bound lines. Each time, as ammunition is becomingprecious, the gun was more carefully sighted and fired, and each time, with a little crash, the baby shell shot through the barricades, boring a ragged hole six or eight inches in diameter. Two or threetimes this might always be accomplished with everything on the Chineseside silent as death. The cunning enemy! Then suddenly, as the gun wasshifted a bit to continue the work of ripping up that barricade, attention would be distracted, and before you could explain it theragged holes would be no more. Unseen hands had repaired the damage bypushing up dozens of bricks and sandbags, and before the game could beopened again, unseen rifles were rolling off in their dozens andtearing the crests of our outworks. In that storm of brick-chips, split sandbags and dented nickel, you could not move or reply. That isthe Italian gun. 

The next most useful weapon should be the Austrian machine-gun, whichis a very modern weapon, and throws Mannlicher bullets at the rate ofsix hundred to the minute. Yet it, too, is practically useless. It hasbeen tried everywhere and found to be defective. When it rattles atfull speed, it has been seen that its sighting is illusory--that itthrows erratically high in the air, and that ammunition is simplywasted. It cannot help us in the slightest. The value of machine-gunshas been always overrated. 

Then there is a Nordenfeldt belonging to the British marines, and avery small Colt, which was brought up by the Americans. TheNordenfeldt is absolutely useless and now refuses to work; the Colt isso small, being single-barrelled, that it can only do boy's work. Yetthis Colt is the most satisfactory of all, and when we have dragged itout with us and played it on the enemy, it has shot true and straight. They say it has killed more men than all the rest put together. .. . 

There should be a Russian gun, too--a good Russian gun of respectablecalibre. But although the shells were brought, a thousand of them, too, the gun was forgotten at the Tientsin Station! Such a thing couldonly happen to Russians, everybody says. But some people say it wasforgotten on purpose, because De G---- had received absolute assurancefrom the Chinese Government that the Russian Legation would not beattacked under any circumstances, and that sailors were only broughtup to keep faith with the other Powers. .. . 

This miserable list, as you will see, means that we have nothing withwhich to reply to the enemy's fire. We are not so proud and foolish asto wish to silence the guns ranged against us, but, at least, weshould be able to make some reply. In desperation, the sailor-gunnerstried to manufacture a crude piece of ordnance by lashing iron andsteel together, and encasing it in wood. Fortunately it was neverfired, for in the nick of time an old rusty muzzle-loader has beendiscovered in a blacksmith's shop within our lines, and has been madeto fire the Russian ammunition by the exercise of much ingenuity. Itbelches forth mainly flames, and smokes and makes a terrific report. Some say this is as useful as a modern twelve-pounder. .. . 

About the Chinese guns we can find out very little, excepting thatnone, or very few, of the modern weapons which are in stock at Pekinghave been used against us. There are at most only nine or ten inconstant use; perhaps the others have been dragged away down the longTientsin road. But even these nine or ten, if they were workedtogether, would nearly wreck us. Our sorties have pushed some of themback. 

Two of these guns are being fired at us from a staging on the Palacewall--sometimes regularly and persistently, sometimes as if they hadfallen under the influence of the conflicting factors which arestruggling to win the day in the Palace. If they bombarded us withoutintermission for twenty-four hours, they would render the BritishLegation almost untenable. Two or three more guns are on the TartarWall; three or four are ranged against the Su wang-fu and Frenchlines; some are kept travelling round us searching for a weak spot. They have no system or fire-discipline. Some use shrapnel and segment;others fire solid round shot all covered with rust. Silent sometimeswith a mysterious silence for days at a time, they come to life againsuddenly in a blaze of activity, and wreak more ruin in a few minutesthan weeks of rifle fusillade and days of firing on the fringe ofouter buildings. And yet we cannot complain. We have so many walls, so many houses, so many trees, so many obstructions of every kind, that they cannot get a clear view of anything. These singing shells, which might breach any one part, were the guns massed and their firecontinuous, are sneered at by most of us already. Provided you can lielow, shell-fire soon loses even its moral effect. 

XI

SNIPING

 * * * * *

The siege has now become such a regular business with everyone thatthere are almost rules and regulations, which, if not promulgatedamong besieged and besiegers, are, at least, more or less understoodthings. Thus, for instance, after one or two in the morning thecrashing of rifles around us is always quite stilled; the gunners havelong ceased paying us their attentions, and a certain placid calmnesscomes over all. The moon may then be aloft in the skies; and if it is, the Tartar Wall stands out clear and black, while the ruinedentrenchments about us are flooded in a silver light which makes thesordidness of our surroundings instantly disappear in the enchantmentof night. Our little world is tired; we have all had enough; and eventhough they may run the risk of being court-martialled, it is alwaysfairly certain that by three or four in the morning half the outpostsand the picquets will be dead asleep. It was not like that in thebeginning, for then nobody slept much night or day; and if one did, itwas only to awake with a moan, the result of some weird nightmare. 

Now with the weeks which have gone by since we broke off relationswith the rest of the world it is quite different, and we pander to ourlittle weakness of forty winks before a loophole, although orderlyofficers may stumble by all night on their rounds and curse and swearat this state of affairs. By training yourself, however, I have foundthat you can practically sleep like a dog, with one eye open and bothears on the alert--that light slumber which the faintest stirringimmediately breaks; when you are like this you can do your duty at aloophole. 

It is such dull work, too, in front of the eternal loopholes, withnothing but darkness and thick shadows around you, and the rest of apost of four or five men vigorously snoring. The first half hour goesfairly quickly, and, perhaps even the second; but the last hour isdreary, tiresome work. And when your two hours are up, and contentedlyyou kick your relief on the ground beside you, he only moans faintly, but does not stir. Dead with sleep is he. Then you kick him again withall that zest which comes from a sense of your own lost slumbers, andonce more he moans in his fatigue, more loudly this time, but still hedoes not move. 

Finally, in angry despair you land the butt of your rifle brutally onhis chest, and he will start up with a cry or an oath. 

"Time, " you mutter. The relief grumblingly rises to his feet, rubbinghis glued eyes violently, and asks you if there is anything. "Nothing, " you answer curtly. It is always nothing, for although theenemy's barricades rear themselves perhaps not more than twenty orthirty feet from where you stand, you know that it takes a lustystomach to rush that distance and climb your fortifications andditches in the dark in the face of the furious fire which sooner orlater would burst out. For we understand our work now. Experience isthe only schoolmaster. 

So with your two hours on and your four hours off the night spendsitself and dawn blushes in the skies. It is in all truth weary work, those long watches of the night. .. . Sometimes even your four hours'sleeping time is rudely broken into by half a dozen alarms; forseparated sometimes by hundreds of feet from your comrades of the nextpost, the instinct of self-preservation makes you line your loopholesand peer anxiously into the gloom beyond, when any one of the enemyshows that he is afoot. A single rifle-shot spitting off near by is asoften as not the cause of the alarm; for that rifle-shot cracking outdiscordantly and awakening the echoes may be the signal for the dreadrush which would spell the beginning of the end. Once one line isbroken into we know instinctively that the confusion which wouldfollow would engulf us all. There is no confidence. .. . 

When you have time you may relieve his monotony by sniping. 

In the early morning, the very early morning, is the time for thiswork--say, roughly, between the hours of four and six, when thesoldier Chinaman beyond our lines is yawningly arousing himself fromhis slumbers and squats blinking and inattentive before his morningtea. Then if you are a natural hunter, are inclined to risk a gooddeal, and something of a quick shot, you may have splendid chanceswhich teach you more than you could ever learn by months in front oftargets. Baron von R----, the cynical commander of the Russiandetachment, is the crack sniper of us all, because he has not a greatdeal to do in the daytime, and, also, because beyond his lines of theRussian Legation all is generally quiet with a curious and suggestivequietness. At four in the morning R----, with his sailor's habits, generally rises, shakes himself like a dog, lights his eternal Russiancigarette, takes a few whiffs, and then sallies forth with aMannlicher carbine and a clip of five cartridges. His sailors are dulywarned to cover him if he has to retire in disorder, but so far he hasmet with no mishap. Cautiously pushing out beyond his barricades, heclimbs a ruined wall, reaches the top and buries himself in the dustin pleasant anticipation of what will follow. 

Presently he is rewarded. A Chinese brave comes out into the open, selects a corner, and sits down to smoke under cover of a barricade. The Baron pushes his clip of cartridges deliberately into themagazine, shoots one into the rifle barrel through the feed, and thenvery cautiously and very slowly draws a steady bead on the man. I haveseen him at work. Five seconds may go by, perhaps even ten, for theBaron allows himself only one shot in each case, and then bang! thebullet speeds on its way, and the Chinaman rolls over bored throughand through. On a good day the bag may be two or three; on a bad daythe Russian commander returns with his five cartridges intact and apersistent Russian shrug, for he never fires in vain, and there arecertain canons in this sport which he does not care to violatelightly. 

Myself, enamoured with this game, after I had watched the Russiancommander two mornings, I, too, determined that I would embark on it, although I have no such leisure in the early hours. Eleven or twelveo'clock in the bright sunlight has become my hour, when the sun beatsdown hotly on our heads, and everyone is drowsy with the noon-heat. Then you may also catch the Chinaman smoking and drinking his tea onceagain, and if you are quick a dead man is your reward. Every dead manputs another drop of caution into the attackers. It is therefore goodand useful. 

Yesterday I had great luck, for I got three men within very fewminutes of one another; and then when I was fondly imagining that Imight pick off dozens more from my coign of vantage, I was swept backinto our lines under such a storm of fire as I have never experiencedbefore. I should tell you that there are practically only twoshooting-grounds where this curious sport may be had; there are onlytwo areas of brick and ruins where by judicious manoeuvring you maysteal out and get the enemy on his exposed flank where no barricadesprotect him from an enfilading fire. These two areas lie opposite theRussian front, and beyond the extreme Japanese western posts of the Suwang-fu. Since the Russian front is the Russian commander's ownpreserve, it is from the Japanese posts that I work. 

On the day when I made my record bag, half-past eleven found everybodydrowsy and the time propitious. Our northern Peking sun beats downpitilessly from the cloudless skies at such a time, and so I had thefield completely to myself. Firing had ceased absolutely on all sides, and the Chinese had begun to sleep. Crouching low down I scurriedacross from the Japanese post to some ruins fifty feet off, andremained quietly squatting there, panting in the heat, to get myselfbearings. Around me all was silent, and thirty or forty yards fromwhere I lay I could see the brown face of the Japanese sailor laughingat me through a loophole. Presently bringing my glasses into play Iswept the huge pile of ruined houses and streets lying huddled on allsides. 

There was not a twig stirring or a shadow moving. All was dead quiet. The main Chinese camp on this side was placed in H----'s abandonedcompounds--that we had discovered long ago--but the battalions therewere now apparently asleep with not so much as a sentry out. So, gaining confidence, I pushed on, working parallel to Prince Su's outerwalls and about fifty feet beyond them. Suddenly I stopped anddropped, quite by instinct, for although my mind had telegraphed thedanger to my knees, I did not fully realise what it was until I was onthe ground. Just round the corner there was a glimpse of three menstripped to the waist to be seen. Had they seen me? I waited in somesuspense for a few seconds pressed my glasses back into their case, and gripped my rifle. My anxiety was soon set at rest, for with aclatter, which seemed ten times greater than it really was, the menset quickly to work on a structure. They were building something, andnow was my chance. Getting to the corner again I peered cautiouslyaround, and there but seventy or eighty feet from where I lay threestrapping fellows were raising a heavy log. They had pulled off theirred and black tunics, and were only in their baggy breeches and thecurious little stomach apron the Northern Chinaman affects to keephimself from catching cold. 

Their brown backs glistened with sweat in the bright sunshine, andbetween their belts and the loose black turbans, under which theirpigtails were gathered up, an ideal two-feet target presented itself. Carefully I fired. 

In a flash one broad brown back was suddenly splashed with red, afellow sank on his knees with outstretched arms, and at last rolledover without a moan, apparently as dead as dead could be. It wasbrutalising. 

The log the men were carrying crashed down heavily on the ground andthe two remaining soldiers started back in surprise. From whence camethat shot? In front of where they were working lay their advancedposts, which, facing our own, two or three hundred feet away, shouldcompletely cover them. They peered around for a few minutes, anxiouslysearching their front and not looking behind them. At last theyapparently decided that it must have been a stray shot, for, bendingdown, they once more raised the log, paying no more attention to theirdead companion than they would to a dead dog. 

This time I let them advance towards their outposts until they were ahundred feet farther away. Then I fired again. The log came down oncemore with a dull thud, and both the men fell as well. But imagine mydisgust when they both rose to their feet, one man merely showing theother a snipped shoulder which must be bleeding, but was evidentlynothing as a wound. I cursed my government rifle, which always throwsto the right. At less than a hundred yards such practice wasdisgraceful. This time both the men were aroused, and, abandoningtheir log, they disappeared round some ruins, only to reappear withtheir tunics on, their bandoliers strapped round them, and theirMausers in their hands. They meant to have some revenge. I lost sightof them for quite ten minutes, only to have them both out again almosthalfway between myself and the Japanese posts from which I had salliedforth. I was cut off! I would have to wipe those two men out or elsethey would do that to me. 

They were in no hurry, however, for they began by beating the groundcarefully and taking advantage of every piece of cover. They evidentlysuspected that some of our men had come out in skirmishing order andwere still lying hidden; at last one saw something. He had caughtsight of the Japanese sentry who was looking out anxiously to see whathad become of me. So rising hurriedly, the soldier fired at the brownJapanese face. Before he had sunk on his knees again I had drilled himfair with a snapshot--in the head it must have been, because he wentover with a piercing yell and with his hands plucking at his cap. Theother man did not wait to see what would happen, but fled as fast ashe could down a small lane that ran only twenty feet past me. Seeingthe game was played out, I rose and fired rapidly from under the crookof my arm and missed. Reloading as I scrambled after him, I droveanother bullet at him, and he staggered wildly but did not fall. Myblood was now up, and I was determined to get him, even if I had tofollow into the Chinese camp, so I sped along too. The fellow was nowyelling lustily, calling his comrades to his aid, and I seemed to begoing mad in my excitement. I fired again as I ran, and must have hithim again, for he reeled still more; then he turned totteringly into aruined doorway. .. . 

Just as I determined that I must give it up the scene changed like theflash of a lamp. My quarry stumbled and fell flat; dozens ofhalf-stripped men came charging towards me, loading as they ran, andalmost before I knew it, the ground around me was ripped with bullets. 

Then in turn how I raced!

Such was the storm of fire around me that I nearly dropped my rifle soas to improve my pace, and all the moisture left my mouth. Holdinggrimly on I at last cleared the exposed ground, and jumped throughinto the Japanese barricades. In their rage the Chinese soldieryrushed into the open after me, firing angrily all along the line, andbefore the loopholes could be properly manned and the fusilladereturned they were almost up to us. Then, as always happens, theysuddenly became irresolute, and trickled away, and from behind safecover they poured in the same long-range rifle-fire. .. . 

This, however, is only an incident--one which I provoked. Generally weare not so enterprising, but are inclined to accept events as theyunroll. But this escapade proved to me that attacks are thrown againstus only after special orders have been issued by the government, andthat the camps of soldiery established round our lines are as much toimprison us as to slay us. They have bound us in with brickworks, andthey bombard us intermittently with nine or ten guns; but eachbombardment and each attack seems to be conducted quite without anyrelation to the general situation. .. . Fortunately, then, although weare ill organised and badly commanded as a whole, our units are wellled, and we meet the situation as it actually is on the best planpossible for the time being. But will this last? Will not somethinghappen which will fling our enemy against us animated by one desire--a desire to slay us one and all? It requires now but one rush of thethousands of armed men encamped about us to sweep our defence off theface of the earth like so many dried and worthless leaves. 

XII

THE GALLANT FRENCH

14th July, 1900. 

 * * * * *

The post fighting is becoming more desperate, and the French aresteadily losing ground. Is it true that they are losing courage? Ofcourse, everyone knows that they are a gallant race, and thatalthough the Germans, by their relentless science and unendingattention to detail, are rated superior in machine-like warfare, theycan never be quite like the brilliant conquerors of Jena, Austerlitz, and a hundred other battles; and yet no one expected the French weregoing to cling to the ruins of their Legation with the bulldogdesperation of which they complained in the English at Waterloo; adesperation making each house a siege in itself, and only ending withthe total destruction of that house by shells or fire; were going totreat all idea of retirement with contempt, although their shabbytreatment caused them two weeks ago to temporarily evacuate theirlines in a fit of moroseness. .. . This is what has happened until now, for the French have set their teeth, and now everyone almost believesthat nothing--not even mines, shells, myriads of bullets, and foolishorder after order from headquarters ordering men to be sent elsewhere--will beat them back. And yet they cannot keep on this way for ever. All round them the connecting posts and blockhouses are losing moreand more men, and matters are reaching a dangerous point. 

It is now nearly four weeks since the first bullet flicked out thebrains of the first French sailor ten minutes after the opening ofhostilities at barricades far away down Customs Street, and in thesetwenty-five days which have elapsed the French positions have beenbeaten into such shapeless masses that they are quite pastrecognition. I had not been there for a week, and was shocked when Isaw how little remains. The Chinese have, foot by foot, gained morethan half of the Legation, and all that is practically left to thedefenders is their main-gate blockhouse, a long barricaded trench andthe remains of a few houses. These they have sworn to retain untilthey are too feeble to hold. Then, and then only, will they retreatinto the next line behind them, the fortified Hotel de Pekin, whichhas already four hundred shell holes in it. 

Yesterday's losses at the French lines were five men wounded, fourblown up by a mine, of whom two never have been seen again, and twomen killed outright by rifle-fire. Then the last houses were set fireto by Chinese soldiers, who, able to push forward in the excitementand confusion of the mine explosions, attempted to seize and holdthese strategic points, and were only driven out by repeatedcounter-attacks. Such events show that for some occult reason theChinese commands are trying to carry the French lines by everypossible device. .. . It has been like this for a week now. 

For, from the 7th of July, the Chinese commands having prepared theground for their attacks by a heavy cannonade lasting for sixty hours, which riddled everything above the ground level with gaping holes, started pushing forward through the breaches, and setting fire, bymeans of torches attached to long bamboo poles, to everything whichwould burn. No living men, no matter how brave, can hold a glowingmass of ruins and ashes, and the Chinese were showing devilishcunning. Isolated combats took place along the whole French line--in avain effort to drive off the incendiaries, little sorties of two orthree men furiously attacking the persistent enemy, and each timedriving him back with loss, only to find him dribbling in again likemuddy water through every hole and cranny in the imperfect defences. But even this did not do much good. No one could keep an accuraterecord of these curious encounters during the first few days, for theyhave succeeded one another with such rapidity that men have become tootired, too sleepy to wish to talk. They try to act, and some of theiradventures have been astonishing. 

Thus a young Breton sailor, not more than seventeen years old, seeingmen armed with swords collecting one night for a rush, jumped downamong them from the top of an earthwork, and shot and bayonetted threeor four of them before they had time to defend themselves. Then ittook him half an hour to get back to safety by creeping from one holein the ground to another and avoiding the rifle-fire. .. . 

Self-preservation makes it necessary to rush out thus single handedand ease your front. Every man killed is a discouragement, which holdsthe enemy back a bit. 

Exploits of this nature must at length have shown the Chinese soldierythat they have to face men endowed with the courage of despair in thisquarter; and fearing cold steel more than anything else, they havedecided that the only way of reaching their prey is by blowing them uppiecemeal. That is why they have taken to mining--most audaciousmining, carried on under the noses of the French defenders. If youcome here at night, and remain until one of those curious lulls in therifle-fire suddenly begins, you will distinctly hear this curioustapping of picks and shovels, which means the preparation of agallery. 

So as to save time, such mining is not begun from behind the enemy'strenches; it is audaciously commenced in the ruins which litter someof the neutral territory, which neither side holds and into whichChinese desperadoes creep as soon as it is dusk. For a few days theFrench did not dare to make sorties against such enterprises, but someof the younger volunteers, discovering that these sappers were onlyarmed with their tools, have taken to creeping out and butchering inthe bowels of the earth. .. . This is terribly but absolutely true. Thusa young volunteer, named D----, found, after watching for two days, that a number of men crept into a tunnel mouth every night only twentyfeet from his post, and began working on a mine right under his feet. He decided to go out himself and kill them all. .. . He told me thestory. He crept out two days ago as soon as he had seen them go in, and, posting himself at the entrance, called on the men to come out, else he would block them in and kill them in the most miserable way hecould think of. They came out, crawling on their hands and knees, andas each man slipped up to the level he was bayonetted. .. . In the endthirteen were killed like this. Three remained, but D----'s strengthwas not equal to it, and he had to drive them in as captives. Thenthey were despatched and beheaded. They say the French sailors slungback those heads far over into the advanced Chinese barricades withtaunts and shouts. That stopped all work for a few hours. But it wasnot for long enough. 

Yesterday, the 13th, the Chinese had their revenge for the loss of thehundred odd men who have been shot or bayonetted along this frontduring the past week. At six in the evening, when the rifle-fire allalong the line had become stilled, a tremendous explosion shook everyquarter of our besieged area and made everyone tremble withapprehension. Even in the most northerly part of our defences--theHanlin posts beyond the British Legation, which are probably three orfour thousand feet away--the men said it was like an earthquake. Inthe French lines it seemed as if the end of the world had come. TheChinese, having successfully sapped right under one of the remainingfortified houses, had blown it up with a huge charge of blackgunpowder. D----, the French commander, R----, the Austrian _Charged'Affaires, _ the same indomitable volunteer D----, and a picket offour French sailors were in the house, and were buried in the ruins. Hardly had the echoes of the first explosion died away, when a secondone blew up another house, and out of the ruins were lifted, as if thepowers of darkness had taken pity on them all, the defenders who hadbeen buried alive, excepting two. Never has such a thing been heard ofbefore. Providence is plainly helping us. The wretched men thuscruelly treated were all the colour of death and bleeding badly whenthey were dragged out. The two missing French sailors must have beencrushed into fragments. Only a foot has been found. .. . 

That was afterwards; for the mine explosions were the signals for aterrible bombardment and rifle-fire all along the line, from which wehave not yet recovered. The French, more than a little shaken, weredriven into their last trench--the _tranche Bartholin_, which has justbeen completed. They held this to this morning and thencounter-attacked. That is why I have found myself here. Reinforcementswere rushed in by us at daybreak, and after a sleepless forty hoursthe Chinese advance has been fairly held. But for how long? If theyact as earnestly during the next week we are finished!

XIII

THE BRITISH LEGATION BASE

15th July, 1900. 

 * * * * *

Fortunately, startling events of the sort I have just described areconfined to the outposts, and the half a dozen closely threatenedpoints. Our main base, the British Legation, is little affected, andmany in it do not appear to realise or to know anything of thesefrantic encounters along the outer lines. They can tell from thestretcher-parties that come in at all hours of the day and night, andpass down to the hospital, what success the Chinese fire is having, but beyond this they know nothing. They secretly hope, most of them, that it will remain like this to the end; that bullets and shells mayscream overhead, but that they may be left attending to minor affairs. As I look around me, it appears more and more evident thatself-preservation is the dominant, mean characteristic of modernmankind. The universal attitude is: spare me and take all my lessworthy neighbours. In gaining in skin-deep civilisation we have lostin the animal-fighting capacity. We are truly mainly grotesque whenour lives are in danger. 

In the British Legation time has even been found to establish a modellaundry, and several able-bodied men actually fought for the privilegeof supervising it, they say, when the idea was mooted. 

Neither have our Ministers improved by the seasoning process of thesiege. Most of them have become so ridiculous, that they shun thepublic eye, and listen to the roar of the rifles from safe placeswhich cannot be discovered. And yet fully half of them are able-bodiedmen, who might do valuable work; who might even take rifles and shoot. But it is they who give a ridiculous side, and for that, at least, oneshould be thankful. It is something to see P----, the French Minister, starting out with his whole staff, all armed with _fusils de chasse_, and looking _tres sportsman_ on a tour of inspection when everythingis quiet. Each one is well told by his tearful wife to look out forthe Boxers, to be on the alert--as if Chinese banditti were lurkingjust outside the Legation base to swallow up these bravecreatures!--and in a compact body they sally forth. These are themarried men: marriage excuses everything when the guns begin to play. Thus the Secretary of Legation, whose name I will not divulge evenwith an initial, amused me immensely yesterday by calculating how muchmore valuable he was to the State as a father of a family than anunmarried youngster like myself. He tried to prove to me that if hedied the economic value of his children would suffer--what a fool hewas!--and that my own value capitalised after the manner ofmathematicians was very small. I listened to him carefully, and thenasked if the difference between a brave man and a coward had anyeconomic significance. He became suddenly angry and left me. Some ofthe besieged are becoming truly revolting. 

Even P----, who some people think ought to stay in the remains of hisown Legation, is rather disgusted, and as he marches out in anembroidered nightshirt, with little birds picked out in red thread onit, he is not as absurd as I first thought. Poor man, he isattempting to do his duty after his own lights, and excepting two orthree others, he has been the most creditable of all the elderly men, who think that position excuses everything. 

Labouring at the making of sandbags, the women sit under shelter, andkeep company with those men who have not the stomach to go out. And asshells have been falling more and more frequently in and around thissafe base, and rumour has told them that the outer lines may give way, bomb-proof shelters have been dug in many quarters ready to receiveall those who are willing to crouch for hours to avoid the possibilityof being hit. .. . 

Otherwise, there is nothing much to note in the British Legation, forhere the storm and stress of the outer lines come back oddly enoughquite faintly, excepting during a general attack. The dozens of wallsaccount for that. In the evenings the missionaries now gather and singhymns . .. Sometimes Madame P----, the wife of the great Russian BankDirector, takes compassion, and gives an _aria_ from some opera. Sheused to be a diva in the St. Petersburg Opera House, they say, yearsago, and her voice comes like a sweet dream in such surroundings. Aweek ago a strange thing happened when she was giving an impromptuconcert. She was singing the Jewel song from _Faust_ so ringingly thatthe Chinese snipers must have heard it, for immediately they opened aheavy "fire, " which grew to a perfect tornado, and sent the listenersflying in terror. Perhaps the enemy thought it was a new war-cry, which meant their sudden damnation!

Yet we have had so much time to rectify all our mistakes that thingsare in much better working order. Public opinion has made thecommander-in-chief distribute the British marines in many of theexposed positions and thus allow inferior fighting forces to garrisonthe interior lines. Twice last week, before this redistribution hadbeen completed, there was trouble with both the Italian and theAustrian sailors and some volunteers. Posts of them retreated duringthe night. .. . They gave as their excuse that they knew that the looseorganisation would cause them to be sacrificed if the enemy beganrushing. There is much to be said for them; the general command hadbeen disgraceful, especially during the night, when only good fortunesaves us from annihilation. One single determined rush is all that isneeded to end this farce. .. . 

These retreats, which have not been confined to the sailors, haveended by causing great commotion and alarm among the non-combatants, and reserve trenches and barricades are being improved and manned ingrowing numbers. Still, the distribution is unequal. There is a forceof nearly sixty rifles in what is the northern front of the BritishLegation--the sole front exposed to direct attack on this side of thesquare. With difficulty can the command be induced to withdraw asingle man from here. They say it is so close to all those who havesought the shelter of the British Legation, so close to the women andchildren and those who are afraid, that it would be a crime to weakenthis front. And yet there has been hardly a casualty among those sixtymen during four weeks' siege, while elsewhere about one hundred andtwenty have been killed and wounded. .. . 

The fear that fire-balls will be flung far in from here, orfire-arrows shot from the adjacent trenches, has made them institutepatrols, which make a weary round all through the night to see thatall's well. In the thick darkness these men can act as they please, and already the are several _sales histoires_ being sold. One is veryfunny. The patrol in question was composed entirely of Russianstudents, who are not rated as effectives. Beginning at nine o'clockthe day before yesterday, the patrol had got as far as the Japanesewomen's quarters at this northern front of the British Legation, whenthey were halted for a few minutes to communicate some orders. One ofthe volunteers, of an amorous disposition, noticed a buxom littleJapanese servant at work on a wash-tub in the gloom. An appointmentwas made for the morrow. .. . 

The next night duly came. Once more the patrol halted, and once morethe young Russian told his companions to go on. The patrol moved away, and the adventurous Russian tiptoed into the Japanese quarters. Cautiously feeling his way down a corridor, he opened a door, which hethought the right one; then the tragedy occurred. Suddenly a quietvoice said to him in French out of the gloom:

"_Monsieur desire quelque chose? Je serai charmee de donner a Monsieurce qu'il voudra s'il veut bien rester a la porte_. " The wretchedRussian student imagined he was lost; it was the wife of a Minister!He hesitated a minute; then, gripping his rifle and with the perfectRussian imperturbability coming to his rescue, he replied, with a deepbow: "_Merci, Madame, Merci mille fois! Je cherchais seulement de lavaseline pour mon fusil_!"

This phrase has become immortal among the besieged. 

XIV

THE EVER-GROWING CASUALTY LIST

16th July, 1900. 

 * * * * *

And yet one is lucky if one can laugh at all. The rifle and cannonfire continues; barricades are pushing closer and closer, more of ourmen are falling--it is always the same monotonous chronicle. A fewdays ago poor T----, the Austrian cruiser captain, who aspired to beour commander-in-chief with such disastrous results, was killed in theSu wan-fu while he was encouraging his men to stand firm and notrepeat some of their former performances. To-day little S----, theBritish Minister's chief of the staff, has been mortally hit, and hasjust died. It was a sad affair. In the morning a party fromheadquarters was making a tour of inspection of the Su wang-fu posts, in order to see exactly how much battering they could stand, and howsoon the Italian contention that already the hillock works wereuntenable would become an undeniable fact. The Italian defences hadbeen inspected and the little party was crossing the ornamentalgardens, which are always swept by a storm of fire, when suddenlyS---- fell mortally wounded, M----, the correspondent, was badly hitin the leg, the Japanese colonel alone escaping with a bullet-cuttunic. They had drawn the enemy's fire. Great was the dismay when thenews became generally known; it meant that the authority ofheadquarters had received a cruel blow. There is no officer left whocan really perform the duties of the chief of the staff, and all theouter lines will feel this loosening of a control which has reallyonly been complimentary and nominal. Casualties among the officers ofthe other detachments had allowed the British marine commanders toincrease their influence. Now it is finished. The only two good oneshave now been struck off the list. 

All day long men looked gloomily about them, and felt that graduallybut surely things were progressing from bad to worse. Six of the bestofficers have either been killed or so badly wounded that they cannotpossibly take the field again; about fifty of our most daring regularsand volunteers have been killed outright; the number of admittances tothe hospital up to date is one hundred and ten; and thus of the fourhundred and fifty rifles defending our lines, nearly a third have beenplaced out of action in less than four weeks. Excepting for a smallgap across the Northern Imperial canal bridge, a continuous double, oreven treble, line of the enemy's barricades now stretch unbroken froma point opposite the American positions on the Tartar Wall round in avast irregular curve to the city wall overlooking the German Legation. 

These barricades are becoming more and more powerful, and are beingpushed so close to us by a system of parallels and traverses that atthe Su wang-fu and the French lines only a few feet separate some ofour own defences from the enemy's. Already it had twice happened thata fierce and unique deed had taken place at the same loophole betweenone of our men and a Chinese brave, ending in the shooting of one orthe other, forcing a retirement on our part to the next line ofbarricades. Thus, by sheer weight of brickwork they are crushing usin, and if they have only two weeks' more uninterrupted work, it canonly end in one way. Colonel S---- has made two more frantic sorties, in both of which I took part at daybreak, with a few men, whichsucceeded each time in pushing back the enemy for a few days in oneparticular corner at the cost of casualties we cannot afford. But thework and the strain are becoming exhausting, and even the Japanese, who are being driven by little S---- like mules, are showing theeffects in their lack-lustre eyes and dragging legs. The men are halfdrunk from lack of sleep and from bad, overheated blood, caused by aperpetual peering through loopholes and a continual alertness evenwhen they are asleep. The strain is intolerable, I say, and pony meatis becoming nauseating, and fills me with disgust. 

On top of it all the trenches are now sometimes half full of water, for the summer rains, which have held back for so long, are beginningto fall. The stenches are so bad from rotting carcases and obscenedroppings that an already weakened stomach becomes so rebellious thatit is hard to swallow any food at all. 

In the morning it is sometimes revolting. For four days I was at aline of loopholes, with Chinese corpses swelling in the sun under mynose. .. . At the risk of being shot, I covered them partially bythrowing handfuls of mud. Otherwise not I myself, but my rebelliousstomach, could not have stood it. 

Scorched by the sun by day, unable to sleep except in short snatchesat night, with a never-ending rifle and cannon fire around us, we havehad almost as much as we can stand, and no one wants any more. Iwonder now sometimes why we have been abandoned by our own people. Reliefs and S---- are only seen in ghastly dreams. .. . 

And yet there are others near who must be faring worse than we. Faraway in the north of the city, where are Monseigneur F----'scathedral, his thousands of converts, and the forty or fifty men he soardently desired, we hear on the quieter days a distant rumble ofcannon. Sometimes when the wind bears down on us we think we can heara confused sound of rifle-firing, far, far away. They say that JungLu, the Manchu Generalissimo of Peking, whose friendship has beenassiduously cultivated by the French Bishop, is seeing to it that theChinese attacks are not pushed home, and that a waiting policy isadopted similar to that which the Chinese have used towards us. But nomatter what be the actual facts of the case, the besieged fathers mustbe having a terrible time. .. . 

Ponies and mules are also getting scarcer, and the original mobs, numbering at least one hundred and fifty or two hundred head, havedisappeared at the rate of two or three a day as meat. Our remaininganimals are now quartered in a portion of the Su wang-fu, where theyare feeding on what scant grass and green vegetation they can stillfind in those gloomy gardens. Sometimes a humming bullet flies low andmaims one of the poor animals in a vital spot. Then the butcher neednot use his knife, for meat is precious, and even the sick horses thatdie, and whose bodies are ordered to be buried quickly, are not safefrom the clutches of our half-starving Chinese refugees. .. . 

A few days ago a number of ponies, frightened at some sudden roar ofbattle, broke loose and escaped by jumping over in a marvellous waysome low barricades fronting the canal banks. Caught between our ownfire and that of the enemy, and unable to do anything but gallop upand down frantically in a frightened mob, the poor animals excited ourpity for days without our being able to do a single thing towardsrescuing them. Gradually one by one they were hit, and soon theirfestering carcases, lying swollen in the sun, added a little more tothe awful stenches which now surround us. Some men volunteered to goout and bury them, and cautiously creeping out, shovel in hand, justas night fell, once more our Peking dust was requisitioned, and acoverlet of earth spread over them. 

The droves of ownerless Peking dogs wandering about and creeping inand out of every hole and gap are also annoying us terribly. Thesepariahs, abandoned by their masters, who have fled from this ruinedquarter of the city, are ravenous with hunger, and fight over thebodies of the Chinese dead, and dig up the half-buried horses; nothingwill drive them away. In furious bands they rush down on us at night, sometimes alarming the outposts so much that they open a heavy fire. An order given to shoot everyone of them, so as to stop these nightrushes, has been carried out, but no matter how many we kill, morepush forward, frantic with hunger, and tear their dead comrades topieces in front of our eyes. It is becoming a horrible warfare in thisbricked-in battle-ground. 

Inside our lines there are a number of half-starving natives, who werecaught by the storm and are unable to escape. They are poor people ofthe coolie classes, and it is no one's business to care for them. Several times parties of them have attempted to sneak out and getaway, but each time they have been seized with panic, and have fledback, willing to die with starvation sooner than be riddled by theenemy's bullets. The native troops beyond our lines shoot ateverything that moves. A few days ago an old rag-picker was seenoutside the Tartar Wall shambling along half dazed towards theWater-Gate, which runs in under the Great Wall into the dry canal inour centre. The Chinese sharpshooters saw him and must have thoughthim a messenger. Soon their rifles crashed at him, and the old manfell hit, but remained alive. After a while he raised himself on hishands and knees and began crawling towards his countrymen like a poor, stricken dog, in the hope that they would spare him when they saw hiscondition. But pitilessly once more the rifles crashed out, and thistime their bullets found a billet in his vital parts, for the beggarrolled over and remained motionless. There he now lies where he wasshot down in the dust and dirt, and his white beard and his rottingrags seem to raise a silent and eloquent protest to high Heavenagainst the devilish complots which are racking Peking. 

The feeding of our native Christians, an army of nearly two thousand, is still progressing, but babies are dying rapidly, and nothingfurther can be done. 

There is only just so much rice, and the men who are doing the heavycoolie work on the fortifications must be fed better than the rest orelse no food at all would be needed. .. . 

The native children, with hunger gnawing savagely at their stomachs, wander about stripping the trees of their leaves until half PrinceSu's grounds have leafless branches. Some of the mothers have takenall the clothes off their children on account of the heat, and theirterrible water-swollen stomachs and the pitiful sticks of legseloquently tell their own tale. Unable to find food, all are drinkingenormous quantities of water to stave off the pangs of hunger. A manwho has been in India says that all drink like this in famine time, which inflates the stomach to a dangerous extent, and is theforerunner of certain death. 

To the babies we give all the scraps of food we can gather up afterour own rough food is eaten, and to see the little disappointed faceswhen there is nothing is sadder than to watch the wounded beingcarried in. If we ever get out we have some heavy scores to settle, and some of our rifles will speak very bitterly. 

Thus enclosed in our brick-bound lines, each of us is spinning out hisfate. The Europeans still have as much food as they need; the Chineseare half starving; shot and shell continue; stinks abound; rottingcarcases lie festering in the sun; our command is looser than ever. Itis the merest luck we are still holding out. Perhaps to-morrow it willbe over. In any case, the glory has long since departed, and we havenothing but brutal realities. 

XV

THE ARMISTICE

17th July, 1900. 

 * * * * *

The impossible has happened at the eleventh hour. Around us thosehoarse-throated trumpets have been ringing out stentoriously all day. How blood-curdling they sounded! Calling fiercely and insistently toone another, this barbaric cease-fire of brass trumpets has grown tosuch a blood-curdling roar that attention had to be paid, andgradually but surely the rifles have been all stilled until completeand absolute silence surrounds us. At last diplomacy in the far-awayouter world has made itself heard, and we who are placed in the verycentre of this Middle Kingdom of China, being parleyed with by theresponsible Chinese Government. It has been a long and heart-breakingwait, but it is always better late than never. 

This is exactly what has happened, although I have only just learnedthe full details. On the 14th--that is, three days ago--a nativemessenger, bearing our tidings, was sent out in fear and trembling, induced to attempt to reach Tientsin by lavish promises, and by theurgency of missionary entreaties. But instead of even getting out ofthe city, the messenger was captured, beaten, and detained for severaldays at the headquarters of the Manchu commander-in-chief, Jung Lu, inthe Imperial city. Then, finally, when he thought that he was beingled out to be put to death, he was brought back to our barricades, presenting a very sorrowful appearance, but bearing a fateful despatchfrom Prince Ching and all the members of the Tsung-li Yamen. Thisdespatch had nothing very sensational in it, but it marked thebeginning. It merely stated that soldiers and bandits had beenfighting during the last few days; that the accuracy and vigour of ourfire had created alarm and suspicion; and that, in consequence, ourMinisters and their staffs were invited to repair at once to theTsung-li Yamen, where they would be properly cared for. As for therest of the thousand living and dead Europeans and the two thousandnative Christians within our lines, they were not even dignified bybeing mentioned. Most people inferred from this that by some meanseven the extremists of the Chinese Government had realised that if allthe foreign Ministers were killed, it would be necessary for Europe tosacrifice some members of the Imperial family. 

But the despatch, although its terms were trivial and even childish, had a vast importance for us. It showed that something had happenedsomewhere in the vague world beyond Peking--perhaps that armies werearriving. We were reminded that we were still alive. A dignified replywas sent, and the very next day came an astonishing Washington ciphermessage, which has been puzzling us ever since. It was only threewords: "Communicate to bearer. " No one can explain what these wordsmean; even the American Minister has cudgelled his brains in vain, andasked everybody's opinion. But about one thing there is no doubt--thatit comes straight from Washington untampered with, for these threewords are in a secret cipher, which only half a dozen of the highestAmerican officials in Washington understand, and in Peking there is noone excepting the Minister himself who has the key. 

This is absolutely the first authentic sign we have had. If the replymessage ever gets through, public opinion may force our rescue. .. . 

Finding that they could trust us, our own messenger has been followedby Chinese Government messengers, who, tremblingly waving white flags, march up to our barricades hand in their messages, and crouch down, waiting to be given a safe-conduct back. 

There have been several such messages delivered at one point along ourlong front while the rifle duel was continuing elsewhere with the samemonotony. Now those trumpets, gaining confidence, have broughtabsolute silence. 

At first there was only this absolute silence. It seemed so odd andcurious after weeks of rifle-fire and booming of old-fashioned cannon, that that alone was like a holiday. Then, as everyone seemed torealise that it was a truce, men began standing up on their barricadesand waving white cloths to one another. 

Both sides did this for some time, and as no one fired, a mutualinquisitiveness prompted men to climb over their entrenched positionsand walk out boldly into the open. Still the same friendliness. 

By midday friendliness and confidence had reached such a point, thathalf our men were over the barricades, and had met the Chinesesoldiery on the neutral zone of ruins and rubbish extending betweenour lines. All of us left our rifles behind, and stowed revolvers intoour shirts lest treachery suddenly surprised us and found usdefenceless. I placed an army revolver in my trousers pocket, with avague idea that I would attempt the prairie trick of shooting throughmy clothing if there was any need to resort to force. I soon foundthat this was unnecessary. 

Boldly walking forward, we pushed right up to the Chinese barricades. Nothing surprised us so much as to see the great access of strength tothe Chinese positions since the early days of the siege. Not only werewe now securely hedged in by frontal trenches and barricades, butflanking such Chinese positions were great numbers of paralleldefences, designed solely with the object of battering our sortieparties to pieces should we attempt to take the offensive again. Lining these barricades and improvised forts were hundreds of men, allwith their faces bronzed by the sun, and with their heads encased inblack cloth fighting caps. Relieving the sombre aspect of thisheadgear were numbers of brightly coloured tunics, betokening thevarious corps to which this soldiery belonged. What a wonderful sightthey made! There were Tung Fu-hsiang's artillerymen, with violetembroidered coats and blue trousers; dismounted cavalry detachmentsbelonging to the same commander in red and black tunics and red "tigerskirts"; Jung Lu's Peking Field Force; Manchu Bannermen; provinciallevies and many others. All these men, standing up on the top of theirfortifications, made a most brilliant picture, and we looked long andeagerly. I wish some painter of genius could have been there andcaught that message. For there were skulls and bones littering theground, and representing all that remained of the dead enemy after thepariah dogs had finished with them. Broken rifles and thousands ofempty brass cartridge cases added to the battered look of thisfiercely contested area, and down the streets the remains of everynative house had been heaped together in rude imitation of a fort, with jagged loopholes placed at intervals of eight or ten inches, allowing any number of rifles to be brought into play against us undersecure cover. The men who had manned these defences had left theirrifles where they were, and by peering over we could see that themajority of these fire-pieces were tied into position by means ofwooden forks so as to bear a converging fire on the exposed points ofour defences. Only then did I realise how much a protracted resistanceplaces an attacking force on the defensive. We were afraid of oneanother. Sauntering about, some of the enemy were willing to enterinto conversation. A number of things they told filled us withsurprise, and made us begin to understand the complexity of thesituation around us. The Shansi levies and Tung Fu-hsiang's men--thatis, all the soldiery from the provinces--had but little idea of whythey were attacking us; they had been sent, they said, to prevent usfrom breaking into the Palace and killing their Emperor. 

If the foreigners had not brought so many foreign soldiers intoPeking, there would have been no fighting. They did not want tofight. .. . They did not want to be killed. .. . 

Somebody tried to explain to them that the Boxers had brought it allon. But to this they answered that the Boxers were finished, drivenaway, discredited; there were none left in Peking, and why did we notsend our own soldiers away, who had been killing so many of them. Suchthings they repeated time without number; it was their only point ofview. 

The morning passed away in this wise, but there were several_contretemps_ which nearly led to the spilling of blood. In one case, an English marine tried to take a watermelon from a soldier, who wasvery anxious to sell it; but as the latter would not give it upwithout immediate payment, the marine thumped his head and thenknocked him over. Everyone rushed for their rifles, but some of usshouted for silence, and going over to the marine, whispered to him tokeep quiet while we tied up his hands. We told him to march back intoour lines, and informed our audience that he would be beaten, and thatthe man who had been knocked over would get a dollar. We managed bythis crude acting to save an open rupture, but it was plain that therank and file must not be allowed to mix. We managed eventually torestore a semblance of good-fellowship by purchasing at very heavyprices a great number of eggs. The women, the children, and thewounded have been long in want of eggs and fresh food, and we knewthat these would do a great many people good. 

Late in the afternoon, as a result of this extraordinary fraternising, a very singular thing occurred along the French front, where thebitter fighting has rebounded into a hot friendship. A Frenchvolunteer, who is as dare-devil as many of his friends, suddenlyclimbed over the Chinese barricades and shouted back that he was goingaway on a visit. They tried to make him return, but in spite of alittle hesitation, he went on climbing and getting farther and fartheraway. Then he suddenly disappeared for good. Nobody expected to seehim alive again, and everybody put it down to a manifestation of theincipient madness which is affecting a number of men. .. . 

But two hours afterwards a letter came from the French volunteer. Itmerely said that he was in Jung Lu's camp, having an excellent time. Very late in the evening he came back himself. In spite of thefoolhardiness of the whole thing his news was the most valuable we hadreceived. 

It shows us plainly that not only has something happened elsewhere, but that the Boxer plan is miscarrying in Peking itself. 

The young Frenchman had been really well treated, fed with Chinesecakes and fruit, and given excellent tea to drink. Then he had beenled direct to Jung Lu's headquarters, and closely questioned by thegeneralissimo himself as to our condition, our provisions, and thenumber of men we had lost. He had replied, he said, that we werehaving a charming time, and that we only needed some ice and somefruit to make us perfectly happy, even in the great summer heat. Thereupon Jung Lu had filled his pockets with peaches and ordered hisservants to tie up watermelons in a piece of cloth for him to carryback. Jung Lu finally bade him good-bye, with the significant wordsthat his own personal troops on whom he could rely would attempt toprotect the Legations, but added that it was very difficult to do soas everyone was fearful for their own heads, and dare not show toomuch concern for the foreigner. This makes it absolutely plain thatthis extraordinary armistice is the result of a whole series of eventswhich we cannot even imagine. It is like that curious affair of theBoard of Truce, but much more definite. It means . .. What the devildoes it mean? After S----'s mysterious disappearance, when he was onlya day's march from Peking--month ago--it is useless to attempt anyspeculations. How long will this last?. .. In the evening, when wehad exhausted the discussion of every possible theory, somebodyremarked on the silence. I will always remember how, for someinexplicable reason, that remark annoyed me immensely--made me nervousand angry. Perhaps it was that after weeks of rifle-fire and cannonbooming, the colourless monotone of complete silence wasnerve-destroying. Yes, it must have been that; a perpetual, aggravating, insolent silence is worse than noise. .. . But this willmean nothing to you; experience alone teaches. 

XVI

THE RESUMPTION OF A SEMI-DIPLOMATIC LIFE

20th July, 1900. 

 * * * * *

The third phase continues unabated, with nothing even to enliven it. Despatches in Chinese from nowhere in particular continue to drop infrom the Tsung-li Yamen; pen had been put to paper, and the despatcheshave been duly answered, leaving the position unchanged. I have beeneven requisitioned, rebelliously, I will confess, to turn my hand todespatch writing; but my fingers, so long accustomed only torifle-bolts and triggers, and a clumsy wielding of entrenching tools, produce such a hideous caligraphic result, that I have been coldlyexcused from further attempts. It is incredible that one should soeasily forget how to write properly, but it is neverthelesstrue--eight weeks in the trenches will break the best hand in theworld. An ordinary man would think that what I write now is in asecret cipher!

But of diplomatic life. All these despatches which come in are in thesame monotonous tone; they are entreaties and appeals to evacuate theLegations and place ourselves under the benevolent care of theTsung-li Yamen, to come speedily before it is too late. Of course, noteven our Ministers will go. 

But there is more news, although it is not quite cheering or definite. On the 18th the Japanese received a message direct from Tientsin, giving information to the effect that thirty thousand troops wereassembling there for a general advance on Peking. They say that tendays or a fortnight may see us relieved, but somehow the Japanese arenot very hopeful. 

On this same date came a secretary from the Tsung-li Yamen in person, accompanied by a trembling _t'ingoh'ai, _ or card-bearer, franticallywaving the white flag of truce. They must been very frightened, fornever have I seen such convulsiveness. The secretary, walking quicklywith spasmodic steps, held tight to the arm of his official servant, and made him wave, wave, wave that white flag of truce until it becamepitiful. 

Thus preceded, the Tsung-li Yamen secretary advanced to the main-gateblockhouse of the British Legation, where he was curtly stopped, givena chair, and told to await the arrival of the Ministers, or such asproposed to see him. Seated just outside this evil-smellingdungeon--for the blockhouse, encased in huge sandbags, is full of dirtand ruins and has many smells--the feelings of this representative ofthe Chinese Government must have been charmingly mixed. Near by weregrimy and work-worn men, in all manner of attire, with their rifles;in the dry canal alongside were rude structures of brick andoverturned. Peking carts, line upon line, thrown down and heaped up toblock the enemy's long-expected charges; and on all sides were suchstenches and refuse--all the flotsam and jetsam cast up by our sea oftroubles. Until then I did not realise how many carcases, fragments ofbroken weapons, empty cartridge cases, broken bottles, torn clothing, and a hundred other things were lying about. It was a sordid picture. Presently the British Minister, in his capacity of commander-in-chiefand protector of the other Ministers, came out and took his seat bythe side of his guest, an interpreter standing beside him to help theinterview. Then the French Minister approached and insinuated himselfinto the droll council of peace; the Spanish Minister, as _doyen_, also appeared, and one or two others. But those Ministers who arewithout Legations, who so uncomfortably resemble their colleagues athome--those without portfolios--formed a group in the middle distance, humble as men only are who have to rely upon bounty. I saw the BelgianMinister and the Italian Charge for the first time for several weeks. My own chief was also there, rubbing his hands, trying to seemnatural. The interview proceeded apace, and as far as we could judgethere were no noticeable results. 

There were assurances on both sides, regrets, the crocodile tears ofdiplomacy, and vague threats. All our Ministers seemed comforted to feelthat diplomacy still existed--that there was still a world in whichprotocols were binding. And yet nothing definite could be learned fromthis Yamen secretary. He said that everyone would be protected, but thatthe "bandits" were still very strong. After this official interview, other private interviews took place. Buglers and orderlies from theChinese generals around us trooped in on us for unknown reasons. Threecame over the German barricades, and were led blindfolded to the BritishLegation to be cross-questioned and examined. One trumpeter said thathis general wished for an interview with one of our generals at thegreat Ha-ta Gate, where were his headquarters. He wished to discussmilitary matters. Other men came in a big deputation to the littleJapanese colonel, and said they wanted an interview too. It means thetemporary resumption of a species of diplomatic life. I suppose it isin the air, and everybody likes the change. Yesterday, too, came anotherdespatch from Prince Ching and others--as these letters are now alwayscuriously signed, the lesser men hiding their identity in thisway--asking the Ministers once more to do something impossible; and oncemore a despatch has gone back, saying that we are perfectly happy toremain where we are, only we would like some vegetables and fruit. .. . And so, to-day, four cartloads of melons and cabbages have actually comewith the Empress Dowager's own compliments. The melons lookedbeautifully red and ripe, and the cabbages of perfect green after thisdrab-coloured life. But many people would not eat of this Imperial gift;they feared being poisoned. More despatches from Europe have also beentransmitted--notably a cipher one to the French Minister, saying thatfifteen thousand French troops have left France. Evidently a change hastaken place somewhere. 

But while these _pourparlers_ are proceeding, some of us are not atall quieted. Fortification of the inner lines is going on harder thanever. The entire British Legation has now walls of immense strength, with miniature blockhouses at regular intervals, and a system oftrenches. If our advanced posts have to fall back they may be able tohold this Legation for a few days in spite of the artillery fire. French digging, in the form of very narrow and very deep cuts designedto stop the enemy's possible mining, is being planned and carried outeverywhere, and soon the general asylum will be even more secure thanit has been since the beginning. Undoubtedly we are just markingtime--stamping audibly with our diplomatic feet to reassureourselves, and to show that we are still alive. For in spite of allthis apparent friendliness, which was heralded with such an outburstof shaking hands and smiling faces, there have already been a numberof little acts of treachery along the lines, showing that the oldspirit lurks underneath just as strong. 

In the Northern Hanlin posts which skirt the British Legation, ablack-faced Bannerman held up a green melon in one hand, and signalledwith the other to one of our men to advance and receive this gift. Ourman dropped his rifle, and was sliding a leg over his barricade, whenwith a swish a bullet went through the folds of his shirt--the nearestshave he had ever had. The volunteer dropped back to his side, andthen, after, a while, waved an empty tin in his hand as a notice thathe desired a resumption of friendly relations. The Chinese bravecautiously put his head up, and once again, with a crack, thecompliment was returned, and the soldier was slightly wounded, and nowwe only peer through our loopholes and are careful of our heads. Thenovelty of the armistice is wearing off, and we feel that we are onlygaining time. 

Still, we are improving our position. There is a more friendly feelingamong the commands in our lines, and the various contingents are beingredistributed. By bribing the Yamen messenger, copies of the _PekingGazette_ have been obtained, and from these it is evident thatsomething has happened. For all the decreeing and counter-decreeing ofthe early Boxer days have begun again, and the all-powerful Boxerswith their boasted powers are being rudely treated. It is evident thatthey are no longer believed in; that the situation in and aroundPeking is changing from day to day. The Boxers, having shownthemselves incompetent, are reaping the whirlwind. They must soonentirely disappear. 

It is even two weeks since the last one was shot outside the Japaneselines at night, and now there is nothing but regular soldiery encampedaround us. This last Boxer was a mere boy of fifteen, who had strippedstark naked and smeared himself all over with oil after the manner ofChinese thieves, so that if he came into our clutches no hands wouldbe able to hold him tight. The most daring ones have always been boys. He had crept fearlessly right up to the Japanese posts armed only withmatches and a stone bottle of kerosene, with which he purposed to setbuildings on fire and thus destroy a link in our defences. This isalways the Boxer policy. But the Japanese, as usual, were on thealert. They let the youthful Boxer approach to within a few feet oftheir rifles--a thin shadow of a boy faintly stirring in the thickgloom. Then flames of fire spurted out, and a thud told the sentriesthat their bullets had gone home. 

When morning came we went out and inspected the corpse, and marvelledat the terrible muzzle velocity of the modern rifle. One bullet hadgone through the chest, and tiny pin-heads of blood near thebreast-bone and between the shoulders was all the trace that had beenleft. But the second pencil of nickel-plated lead had struck thefanatic on the forearm, and instead of boring through, had knocked outa clean wedge of flesh, half an inch thick and three inches deep, justas you would chip out a piece of wood from a plank. There was nothingunseemly in it all, death had come so suddenly. The blows had been sotremendous, and death so instantaneous, that there had been nobleeding. 

It was extraordinary. 

Meanwhile, from the Pei-t'ang we can still plainly hear a distantcannonade sullenly booming in the hot air. We have breathing space, but they, poor devils are still being thundered at. No one canunderstand how they have held out so long. 

Our losses, now that we have time to go round and find out accurately, seem appalling. The French have lost forty-two killed and wounded outof a force of fifty sailors and sixteen volunteers; the Japanese, forty-five out of a band of sixty sailors and Japanese andmiscellaneous volunteers; the Germans have thirty killed and woundedout of fifty-four; and in all there have been one hundred and seventycasualties of all classes. Many of the slightly wounded have returnedalready to their posts, but these men have nothing like the spiritthey had before they were shot. 

The shell holes and number of shells fired are also being counted up. The little Hotel de Pekin, standing high up just behind the Frenchlines, has been the most struck. It is simply torn to pieces and hashundreds of holes in it. Altogether some three thousand shells havebeen thrown at us and found a lodgment. The wreckage round the outerfringe is appalling, and in this present calm scarcely believable. Another three thousand shells will bring everything flat to theground. 

XVII

DIPLOMACY CONTINUES

24th July, 1900. 

 * * * * *

The situation is practically unchanged, and there is devilish littleto write about. During the last two or three days no Chinese soldiershave been coming in to parley with us, except in one or two isolatedinstances. Cautious reconnaissances of two or three men creeping outat a time, pushing out as far as possible, have discovered that theenemy is nothing like as numerous as he was at the beginning of thisarmistice. 

Some of his barricades seem even abandoned, and stand lonely and quitesilent without any of the gaudily clothed soldiery to enliven them byoccasionally standing up and waving us their doubtful greetings. But, curious contradiction, although some barricades have been practicallyabandoned, others are being erected very cautiously, very quietly, andwithout any ostentation, as if the enemy were preparing foreventualities which he knows must inevitably occur. Sometimes, too, there is even a little crackle of musketry in some remote corner, which remains quite unexplained. A secret traffic in eggs andammunition is still going on with renegade soldiery from TungFu-hsiang's camp; but no longer can these things be purchased openly, for a Chinese commander has beheaded several men for this treachery, and threatens to resume fighting if his soldiers are tampered with. 

But there is another piece of curious news. A spy has come in andoffered to report the movements of the European army of relief, whichhe alleges has already left Tientsin and is pushing back dense bodiesof Chinese troops. This offer has been accepted, and the man has beengiven a sackful of dollars from Prince Su's treasure-rooms. He is toreport every day, and to be paid as richly as he cares if he gives usthe truth. Some people say he can only be a liar, who will trim hissails to whatever breezes he meets. But the Japanese, who havearranged with him, are not so sceptical; they think that something ofimportance may be learned. 

Down near the Water-Gate, which runs under the Tartar Wall, themiserable natives imprisoned by our warfare are in a terrible state ofstarvation. Their bones are cracking through their skin; their eyeshave an insane look; yet nothing is being done for them. They areafraid to attempt escape even in this quiet, as the Water-Gate iswatched on the outside night and day by Chinese sharpshooters. It isthe last gap leading to the outer world which is still left open. Tortured by the sight of these starving wretches, who moan and mutternight and day, the posts near by shoot down dogs and cows and dragthem there. They say everything is devoured raw with cannibal-likecries. .. . 

The position is therefore unchanged. We have had a week's quiet, andsome letters from the Tsung-li Yamen, which assures us of theirdistinguished consideration, yet we are just as isolated and as uneasyas we were before. This solitude is becoming killing. 

XVIII

THE UNREST GROWS AND DIPLOMACY CONTINUES

27th July, 1900. 

 * * * * *

It is not so peaceful as it was. Trumpet calls have been blaringoutside; troops have been seen moving in big bodies with great bannersin their van; the Imperial world of Peking is in great tumult; thesoldier-spy alleges new storms must be brewing. 

In spite of this, however, the Tsung-li Yamen messengers now come andgo with a certain regularity. This curious diplomatic correspondencemust be piling up. Even the messengers, who at first suffered suchagonies of doubt as they approached our lines, frantically wavingtheir flags of truce and fearing our rifles, are now quite accustomedto their work, and are becoming communicative in a cautious, curiousChinese way which hints at rather than boldly states. They tell usthat our barricades can only be approached with some sense of safetyfrom the eastern side--that is, the Franco-German quarter; in otherquarters they may be fired on and killed by their own people. ThePeking troops, who can be still controlled by Prince Ching and theTsung-li Yamen, are on the eastern side of the enclosing squares ofbarricades; elsewhere there are field forces from otherprovinces--men who cannot be trusted, and who would massacre themessengers as soon as they would us, although they are clad inofficial dress and represent the highest authority in the Empire. Thisposition is very strange. 

But more ominous than all the trumpet calls and the large movements oftroops which have been spied from the top of the lofty Tartar Wall, are the tappings and curious little noises underground. Everywherethese little noises are being heard, always along the outskirts of ourdefence. It must be that the mining of the French Legation is lookedupon as so successful, that the Chinese feel that could they but reachevery point of our outworks with black powder placed in narrowsubterranean passages, they would speedily blow us into an evernarrower ring, until there was only that left of us which could becalmly destroyed by shells. We now occupy such an extended area, andare so well entrenched, that shelling, although nerve-wracking, haslost almost all its power and terror. Were Chinese commanders unitedin their purpose and their men faithful to them, a few determinedrushes would pierce our loose formation. As it is, it is oursalvation. In the quiet of the night all the outposts hear thiscurious tapping. It is heard along the French lines, along the Germanlines, along the Japanese lines, and all round the north of theBritish Legation. Were we to remain quiescent the armistice might besuddenly broken some day by all our fighting men being hoisted intothe air. Our counter-action has, however, already commenced. 

For while the enemy is pushing his lines cunningly and rapidly underour walls and outworks, we are running out counter-mines under his--atleast, we are attempting this by plunging a great depth into theearth, and only beginning to drive horizontally many feet below thesurface line. Hundreds of men are on this work, but the Peking soil isnot generous; it is, indeed, a cursed soil. On top there are thicklayers of dust--that terrible Peking dust which is so rapidlyconverted into such clinging slush by a few minutes' rain. Thenimmediately below, for eight feet or so, there is a curious soil fullof stones and _debris_, which must mean something geologically, butwhich no one can explain. Finally, at about a fathom and a half thereis a sea of despond--the real and solid substratum, thick, tightlybound clay, which has to be pared off in thin slices just as you woulddo with very old cheese. This is work which breaks your hands and yourback. Somebody must do it, however; the same men who do everythinghelp this along as well. .. . 

With all this mining going on many curious finds are being made, whichgive something to talk about. In one place, ten feet below thesurface, hundreds and hundreds of ancient stone cannon-balls have beenfound which must go back very many centuries. Some say they are sixhundred years and more old, because the Mongol conqueror, Kublai Khan, who built the Tartar City of Peking, lived in the thirteenth century, and these cannon-balls lie beneath where tilled fields must then havebeen. Are they traces of a forgotten siege? In other places splendiddrains have been bared--drains four feet high and three broad, whichrun everywhere. Once, when Marco Polo was young, Peking must have beena fit and proper place, and the magnificent streets magnificentlyclean. Now . .. !

To-day the soldier-spy has brought in news that the Court is preparingto flee, because of the approach of our avenging armies, and that themoving troops and the hundreds of carts which can be seen pickingtheir way through the burned and ruined Ch'ien Men great street in theChinese city will all be engaged in this flight. Our troops areadvancing steadily, he says, driving everything before them. Still noone believes these stories very much. We have had six weeks of it nowand several distinct phases. Somehow it seems impossible that thewhole tragedy should end in this unfinished way--that thousands ofEuropean troops should march in unmolested and find us as we are. .. . There is practically no day duty now and very easy work at night. Onecan have a good sleep now, but even this seems strange and out ofplace. 

XIX

THE FIRST REAL NEWS

28th July, 1900. 

 * * * * *

Something has again happened, something of the highest importance. Acourier from Tientsin has arrived at last--a courier who slipped intoour lines, delivered his quill of a message which had been rolled upand plaited into his hair for many days, and is now sitting andfanning himself--a thin slip of a native boy, who has travelled allthe way down that long Tientsin road and all the way back again for avery small earthly reward. A curious figure this messenger bringingnews from the outside world made as he sat calmly fanning himself withthe stoicism of his race. Nobody hurried him or questioned him muchafter he had delivered his paper; he was left to rest himself, andwhen he was cool he began to speak. I wish you could have heard him;it seemed to me at once a message and a sermon--a sermon for those whoare so afraid. The little pictures this boy dropped out in jerksshowed us that there were worse terrors than being sealed in bybrickwork. He had been twenty-four days travelling up and down theeighty miles of the Tientsin road, and four times he had been caught, beaten, and threatened with death. Everywhere there were maraudingbands of Boxers; every village was hung with red cloth and pasted withBoxer legends; and each time he had been captured he had been cruellybeaten, because he had no excuse. Once he was tied up and made to workfor days at a village inn. Then he escaped at night, and went onquickly, travelling by night across the fields. Somehow, by stealingfood, he finally reached Tientsin. The native city was full of Chinesetroops and armed Boxers; beyond were the Europeans. There was nothingbut fighting and disorder and a firing of big guns. By moving slowlyhe had broken into the country again, and gained an outpost ofEuropean troops, who captured him and took him into the camps. Then hehad delivered his message, and received the one he had brought back. That is all; it had taken twenty-four days. This he repeated manytimes, for everybody came and wished to hear. It was plain that manyfelt secretly ashamed, and wished that there would be time to redeemtheir reputations. There would be that!

For about then some one came out from headquarters and posted thetranslation of that quill of a cipher message, and a dense crowdgathered to see when the relief would march in. March in! The messagefrom an English Consul ran:

 "Your letter of the 4th July received. Twenty-four thousand troops landed and 19, 000 at Tientsin. General Gaselee expected at Taku to-morrow; Russians at Pei-tsang. Tientsin city under foreign government. Boxer power exploded here. Plenty of troops on the way if you can keep yourselves in food. Almost all the ladies have left Tientsin. "

I suppose it was cruel to laugh, but laugh I did with a few others. Never has a man been so abused as was that luckless English Consulwho penned such a fatuous message. The spy had already marched ourtroops half way and more; even the pessimistic allowed that they musthave started; an authentic message showed clearly that it was follyand imagination. We would have to have weeks more of it, perhaps evena whole month. The people wept and stormed, and soon lost allenthusiasm for the poor messenger boy who had been so brave. 

Two hours afterwards I found him still fanning himself and coolinghimself. He was quite alone; most people had rather he had never come. Yet the message has been heeded. The significant phrase is that wemust keep ourselves in food. Ponies are running short; there is onlysufficient grain for three weeks' rations; so if there is anothermonth, it will be a fair chance that a great many die for lack offood. Lists are therefore being made of everything eatable there is, and all private supplies are to be commandeered in a few days. Peopleare, of course, making false lists and hiding away a few things. Ifthere is another month of it there will be some very unpleasantscenes--yes, some very unpleasant scenes. 

XX

THE THIRD PHASE CONTINUES

30th July, 1900. 

 * * * * *

From the north that dull booming of guns ever continues. The Pei-t'angis still closely besieged, and no news comes as to how longMonseigneur F----, with his few sailors and his many converts, canhold out, or why they are exempted from this strange armistice, whichprotects us temporarily. Nothing can be learned about them. 

And yet our own armistice, in spite of Tsung-li Yamen despatches andthe mutual diplomatic assurances, cannot continue for ever. Barricadebuilding and mining prove that. To-day the last openings have beenclosed in on us for some curious reason, and the stretch of streetwhich runs along under the pink Palace walls and across the Northerncanal bridge has been securely fortified with a very powerfulbarricade. Outside the Water-Gate the Chinese sharpshooters have dugalso a trench. .. . 

This last barricade was not built without some attempt on our part tostop such a menacing step, for we tried with all our might, bydirecting a heavy rifle-fire, and at last dragging the Italian gun anda machine-gun into position, to make the barricade-builders' taskimpossible. But it was all in vain, and now we are neatly encased in avast circle of bricks and timber; we are absolutely enclosed and shutin, and we can never break through. 

Of course this has been a violation of the armistice, for it wasmutually agreed that neither side should continue offensivefortification work, or push closer, and that violation would entail areopening of rifle and gun fire. We reopened our fire for a shortinterval, but little good that did us. We lost two men in theoperation, for an Italian gunner was shot through the hand and madeuseless for weeks, and a volunteer was pinked in both shoulders, andmay have to lose one arm. After that we stopped firing, for thosebleeding men showed us how soon our defence would have melted away hadwe not even this questionable armistice. 

Very soon there was a partial explanation of why this immensebarricade had been built. Late in the afternoon Chinese troops beganto stream past at a trot under cover of the structure. First therewere only infantrymen, whose rifles and banners could just be seenfrom some of our lookout posts on the highest roofs. But presentlycame artillery and cavalry. Everybody could see those, although themen bent low. Unendingly they streamed past, until the alarm becamegeneral. Even in Peking, quite close to us, there were thousands ofsoldiery. When the others were driven in off the Tientsin road itwould be our doom. 

From the top of the Tartar Wall came the same reports. Our outpostssaw nothing but moving troops picking their way through the ruins ofthe Ch'ien Men great street--troops moving both in and out, andaccompanied by long tails of carts bearing their impedimenta. Yet itwas impossible to trace the movements of the corps streaming pastunder cover of the newly built barricade. The flitting glimpses wegot of them as they swarmed past were not sufficient to allow anyidentification. Perhaps they were passing out of the city; perhapsthey were being massed in the Palace; perhaps. .. . Anything waspossible, and, as one thought, imperceptibly the atmosphere seemed tobecome more stifled, as if a storm was about to break on us, and weknew our feebleness. Yet we are strong as we can ever be. Thefortification work has gone on without a break. It has becomeunending. .. . 

XXI

MORE DIPLOMACY

31st July, 1900. 

 * * * * *

More despatches have been sent by our diplomats to the Tsung-li Yamen, complaining about all the ominous signs we see around us, and askingfor explanations. Explanations--they are so easy to give! Everyquestion has been promptly answered, even though the Yamen itself isprobably only just managing to keep its head above the muddy waters ofrevolution which surge around. Listen to the replies. The sound ofheavy guns we hear in the north of the city are due to thegovernment's orders to exterminate the Boxers and rebels, who havebeen attacking the Pei-t'ang Cathedral and harassing the converts. Thegreat barricade across the Northern canal bridge was built solely toprotect the Chinese soldiery from the accuracy of our fire, which isgreatly feared. As for the mining, our ears must have played us false. None is going on. 

Such was the gist of the answers which have been promptly sent in. These answers and this correspondence give our diplomats satisfaction, I suppose, but most people think that they are making themselves moreundignified than they have been ever since this storm broke on us. TheYamen can in any case do nothing; it is merely a consultative ordeliberative body of no importance. Probably exactly the same type ofdespatches are being sent to the commanders of the relieving columnsat Tientsin. 

There being so little for the rank and file to do or talk about at thepresent moment, there is endless gossip and scandal going on. Thesubject of eggs is one of the most burning ones! Great numbers of eggsare being obtained by the payment of heavy sums to some of the morefriendly soldiery around us, who steal in with baskets and sacks, andreceive in return rolls of dollars, and these eggs are beingdistributed by a committee. Some people are getting more than others. Everybody professes tremendous rage because a certain lady withblue-black hair is supposed to have used a whole dozen in the washingof her hair! She is one of those who have not been seen or heard ofsince the rifles began to speak. There are lots of that sort, all wellnourished and timorous, while dozens of poor missionary women aresuffering great hardships. Several people who had relations in Paristhirty years ago tell me it was the same thing then, and that it willalways be the same thing. This story of the eggs, however, has had oneimmediate result. People are hiding away more provisions and markingthem off on their lists as eaten. What is the use of depriving one'sself for the common good later on under such circumstances? What, indeed!

There is another sign which is not pleasing any one. An official diaryis being now written up under orders of the headquarters. It will befull of our Peking diplomatic half-truths. But, worst of all, our onlycorrespondent, M----, who was shot the other day and is gettingconvalescent, has been taken under the wing of our commander-in-chief, and his lips will be sealed by the time we get out--if ever we getout. With an official history and a discreet independent version, noone will ever understand what bungling there has been, and whatculpability. It is our chicken-hearted chiefs, and they alone, whoshould be discredited. With a few exceptions, they are more afraidthan the women, and never venture beyond the British Legation. Everything is left to the younger men, whose economic value issmaller! I hope I may live to see the official accounts. .. . 

XXII

THE WORLD BEYOND OUR BRICKS

2nd August, 1900. 

 * * * * *

A new month has dawned, and with it have come shoals of lettersbringing us exact tidings from the outer world. Yesterday onemessenger slipped in bearing three letters. To-day another has arrivedwith six missives--making nine letters in all for those who have hadnothing at all except a couple of cipher messages for two entiremonths. Those nine letters meant as much to us as a winter's mail bythe overland route in the old days. .. . 

For as each one confirms and adds to the news of the others, we cannow form a complete and well-connected story of almost everything thathas taken place. We even begin to understand why S---- and his twothousand sailors never reached us. There have been so many thingsdoing. 

But all minor details are forgotten in the fact that there is absoluteand definite news of the relief columns--news which is repeated andconfirmed nine times over and cannot be false this time. The columnswere forming for a general advance as the letters were sent off. Theadvance guard was leaving immediately, the main body following twodays later; and the whole of the international forces would arrivebefore the middle of the month of August. That is what the letterssaid. Also, the American Minister's cipher message had got through, and was now known to the entire world. Everybody's eyes were fixed onPeking. There was nothing else spoken of. That made us stronger thananything else. Poor human nature--we are so egotistical!

But there were other items of news. For the first time we learned thatTientsin has had a siege and bombardment of its own; that allManchuria is in flames; that the Yangtse Valley has been trembling onthe brink of rebellion; that Tientsin city has at last been capturedby European troops and a provisional government firmly established;and that many of the high Chinese officials have committed suicide inmany parts of China. It is curious what a shock all this news gave, and how many people behaved almost as if their minds had becomeunhinged. But then we have had two months of it, and in two months youcan travel far. In the hospital it was noticed, too, that all thewounded became more sick. .. . It has been decided that any further newsmust be only gradually divulged, and that despatches which giveabsolute details can no longer be posted on the Bell-tower. .. . 

A network of ruined houses around the old Mongol market have just beenseized and occupied by a volunteer force. This is the last weak spotthere is--a half-closed gap, which could be rushed by bodies of mencoming in from the Ch'ien Men Gate and ordered to attack us. This newangle of native houses are being sandbagged and loopholed. Both sides, defenders and attacking forces, are now as ready as possible. What isgoing to happen? I am mightily tired of speculating and of writing. 

XXIII

TRIFLES

4th August, 1900. 

 * * * * *

There is now, and has been for the best part of the last forty-eighthours, outpost shooting on all sides, which remains quite unexplained. Listen how it happens. 

You are sitting at a loophole, half asleep, perhaps, during thedaytime, when crack! a bullet sends a shower of brick chips and apowder-puff of dust over your head. You swear, maybe, and quietlycontinue dozing. Then come two or three rifle reports and more dust. This time the thing seems more serious, it may mean something; so youreach for your glasses and carefully survey the scene beyond throughyour loophole. To remain absolutely hidden is the order of the day. Sothere is nothing much to be seen. Far away, and very near, lie theenemy's barricades, some running almost up to your own, but quitepeaceful and silent, others standing up frowningly hundreds of yardsoff, monuments erected weeks ago. These latter are so distant thatthey are unknown quantities. Then just as you are about to give it upas a bad job, you see the top of a rifle barrel glistening in the sun. You . .. Bang! perilously near your glasses another bullet has struck. So you pull up your rifle by the strap, open out your loophole alittle by removing some of the bricks, and carefully and slowly yousend the answering message at the enemy's head. If you have greatluck a faint groan or a distant shout of pain may reward your efforts;but you can never be quite sure whether you have got home on yourrival or not. Loophole shooting is very tricky, and the very bestshots fire by the hour in vain. I have seen that often. .. . 

Yesterday I directly disobeyed orders by opening the ball myself. Ihad been posted in the early morning very close to one of the enemy'sbanners--perhaps not more than forty feet away--and this gaudy flag, defiantly flapping so near the end of my nose, must have incensed me;for almost before I had realised what I was doing I was very slowlyand very carefully aiming at the bamboo staff so as to split it in twoand bring down the banner with a run. I fired three shots in tenminutes and missed in an exasperating fashion. It is the devil's ownjob to do really accurate work with an untested government rifle. Butmy fourth shot was more successful; it snapped the staff neatlyenough, and the banner floated to the ground just outside thebarricade. 

This Chinese outpost must have been but feebly manned, as, indeed, allthe outposts have been since the armistice, for it was fully tenminutes before anything occurred. Then an arm came suddenly over andpecked vainly at the banner. I snapped rapidly, missed, and the armflicked back. Another five minutes passed, and then a piece of curvedbamboo moved over the barricade and hunted about. It was no use, however, the arm had to come, too. I waited until the brown handclasping the bamboo was low and then pumped a quick shot at it. A yellof pain answered me; the bamboo was dropped, the arm disappeared. Ihad drawn blood. 

Nothing now occurred for a quarter of an hour, and I heard not asound. Then suddenly half a dozen arms clasping bamboos appeared atdifferent points, and as soon as I had fired six heads swooped out anddirected this bamboo fishing. In a trice they had harpooned the flag, and before I could fire again it was back in their camp. I had beenbeaten! Then, as a revenge, I was steadily pelted with lead for morethan half an hour and had to lie very low. They searched for me withtheir missiles with devilish ingenuity. This firing became sopersistent that one of our patrols at last appeared and crept forwardto me from the line of main works behind. Only by ingenious lying didI escape from being reported. .. . 

Probably incidents like this account for the outpost duels which arehourly proceeding, in spite of all the Tsung-li Yamen despatches andthe unending mutual assurances. Many of our men shoot immediately theysee a Chinese rifle or a Chinese head in the hopes of adding anotherscalp to their tale. In any case, this does no harm. It seems to methat only the resolution of the outposts, acting independently, andsometimes even in defiance to orders from headquarters, has kept theenemy so long at bay. The rifle distrusts diplomacy. 

This diplomatic correspondence with the Yamen is rapidly accumulating. Many documents are now coming through from European Foreign Offices inthe form of cipher telegrams, that are copied out by the nativetelegraphists in the usual way. No one is being told what is in thesedocuments; we can only guess. The Yamen covers each message with aformal despatch in Chinese, generally begging the Ministers to committhemselves to the care of the government. They now even propose thateveryone should be escorted to Tientsin--at once. And yet we havelearned from copies of the _Peking Gazette_ that two members of theYamen were executed exactly seven days ago for recommending a mildpolicy and making an immediate end of the Boxer _regime_. It is thusimpossible to see how it will end. Our fate must ultimately be decidedby a number of factors, concerning which we know nothing. 

This breathing space is giving time, however, which is not beingentirely wasted on our part. At several points we have managed toenter into secret relations with some of the Chinese commands, and toinduce traitors to begin a secret traffic in ammunition and foodsupplies. .. . 

It is curious how it is done. By tunnelling through walls and housesin neglected corners, protected ways have been made into some of thenests of half-ruined native houses. And by spending many bags ofdollars, friendship has first been bought and then supplies. 

The Japanese have been the most successful. Instead of killing thesoldier-spy, who had been selling them false news, they pardoned himand enlisted him in this new cause. He has been very useful, andarranged matters with the enemy. .. . 

The other night I crept out through the secret way to the Japanesesupply house to see how it was done. There were only two littleJapanese in there squatting on the ground, with several revolverslying ready. A shaded candle just allowed you to distinguish the tornroof, the wrecked wooden furniture. Nobody spoke a word, and we alllistened intently. 

A full hour must have passed before a very faint noise was heard, andthen I caught a discreet scratching. It was the signal. One of thelittle men got up and crawled forward to the door like a dog on hishands and knees. Then I heard a revolver click--a short pause, and thenoise of a door being opened. Then there was a tap--tap--tap, like theMorse code being quietly played, and the revolver clicked down again. It was the right man. He, too, crawled in like a dog; got uppainfully, as if he were very stiff, and silently began unloading. Then I understood why he was so stiff; he was loaded from top tobottom with cartridges. 

It took a quarter of an hour for everything to be taken out andstacked on the floor. He had carried in close on six hundred rounds ofMauser ammunition, and for every hundred he received the same weightin silver. This man was a military cook, who crept round and robbedhis comrades as they lay asleep, not a hundred yards from here. Ofcourse, he will be discovered one day and torn to pieces, but I havejust learned that by marvellous ingenuity and with the aid of a few ofhis fellows thousands of eggs have been brought in by him. It is acurious business, and adds yet another strange element to thisstrangest of lives. 

XXIV

DIPLOMATIC CONFIDENCES

6th August, 1900. 

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Firing has been more persistent and more general during the last twodays, although the armistice ostensibly still continues in the sameway as before. A number of our men have been wounded, and two or threeeven killed during the past week. It is an extraordinary state ofaffairs, but better than a general attack all along the line. We haveno right to complain. The day before yesterday several Russians werebadly wounded; yesterday a Frenchman was killed outright and a coupleof other men wounded; to-day three more have been hit. In spite of thedischarges from the hospitals, the numbers _hors de combat_ remain thesame. 

To-day, too, trumpets are again blaring fiercely, and more and moretroops can be seen moving if one looks down from the Tartar Wall. Upon the wall itself, however, all is dead quiet. It has been like thatfor weeks. No men have been lost there. 

Neither is there any news of the thick relief columns which should beadvancing from Tientsin. In spite of the shoals of letters I have dulyrecorded, assuring us of their immediate departure, the majority of ushave again become rather incredulous about our approaching relief. Ithas become such a regular thing, this siege life, and all other kindsof life are somehow so far away and so impossible after what we havegone through, that we look upon the outer world as somethingmythical. .. . Some men have their minds a little unhinged; two areabsolutely mad. One, a poor devil of a Norwegian missionary, who hasbeen living in misery for years in a vain effort to make converts, became so dangerous long ago that he had to be locked up, and evenbound. But one night he managed to escape, climb our defences anddeliver himself up to the Chinese soldiery. They led him also to theManchu Generalissimo, Jung Lu, half suspecting that he was crazy. JungLu questioned him closely as to our condition, and the Norwegiandivulged everything he knew. He said the Chinese fire had been toohigh to do us very much harm; that they should drive low at us, andremember the flat trajectory of modern weapons. After keeping him forsome hours and learning all he could, Jung Lu sent him back. The poordevil, when he lurched in again, vacantly told the people in theBritish Legation what he had said, and a number demanded that he beshot for treason. If they once began doing that an end would never bereached. .. . 

Some go mad, too, during the fighting. It is always those who have toomuch imagination. Thus, during a lull in the attacks against theFrench lines, a Russian volunteer, with rifle and bandolier across hisback and a bottle of spirits in his hand, charged furiously at theChinese barriers with insane cries. No effort could be made to savehim, because hundreds of Chinese riflemen were merely waiting for anopportunity to pick off our men. So the doomed Russian reached thefirst Chinese barricade unmolested, put a leg over, and then fell backwith a terrible cry as a dozen rifles were emptied into his body. Bya miracle he picked himself up even in his dying condition, and madeanother frantic effort to climb the obstacle. But more rifles werethen discharged, and finally the wretched man fell back quitelifeless. Then over his body a fierce duel took place. Chinesecommanders having placed a price on European heads, these riflemenwere determined not to lose their reward. Man after man attempted todrag in that dead body; but each time our men were too quick for them, and a Chinese brave rolled over. In the end they hooked the corpse inwith long poles and it was seen no more. 

A yet more blood-curdling case is that of a British marine, who hasbeen hopelessly mad for weeks now. He shot and bayonetted a man in theearly part of the siege, and the details must have horrified him. Theysay he first drove his bayonet in right up to the hilt through asoldier's chest; and then, without withdrawing, emptied the whole ofthe contents of his magazine into his victim, muttering all the time. Now he lies repeating hour after hour, "How it splashes! how itsplashes!" and at night he shrieks and cries. .. . In that miserableChancery hospital, swept by rifle-fire and full of such cries andgroans, the nights have become dreaded, until it is a wonder thewounded still live. .. . 

Still, with all this, the Yamen messengers continue to come and gowith clockwork regularity. Yesterday the Chinese Government excelleditself, and made some who have still a sense of humour left laughcynically. In an original official despatch--that is, not a merecovering despatch--it politely informed the Italian _Charged'Affaires_ that King Humbert had been assassinated by a lunatic, andit begged to convey the news with its most profound condolences!Perhaps, however, there was a wish to point a moral--a subtle moralsuch as Chinese scholars love. Yes, on second thoughts that was rathera clever despatch; in diplomacy the Chinese have nothing to learn. .. . 

XXV

THE PLOT AGAIN THICKENS

8th August, 1900. 

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Some strange deity is helping the Chinese Government. There is alwayssomething appropriate to write about. Yesterday the Duke of Edinburghdied. We were officially informed to that effect, after the KingHumbert manner, and the condolences were great. Yesterday, also, during the evening, shelling suddenly commenced and the cannon-mouthsthat have been leering at us from a distance in dull curiosity attheir inactivity have barked themselves hoarsely to life again. Thus, while diplomacy still continues, shrapnel and segment are plungingabout. At times it really seems as if the Chinese Government hadsucceeded in dividing us up into two distinct categories. It has triedto save the diplomats from shells and bullets; since they remain withthe others they must share their fate. 

We listened to this cannonade with tightly pressed lips last night foran hour and more, and, lying low, watched the splinters fly; and then, just as the clamour appeared to be growing, it ceased as suddenly asit had commenced, and the uproarious trumpets, that we know so well, once more called off the attacking forces with their stentorianvoices. It seems as if an internecine warfare had begun outside ourlines--that the loosely jointed Chinese Government is also strugglingwith itself. Thus legs and arms thrash around for a while and causechaos; then the brain reasserts its sway, and the limbs become quietedand reposeful for a time. Never will there be such a siege again. I ambeginning to understand something of all its vast complexity, to knowthat everybody is at once guilty and innocent, and that a strangedeity decrees that it must be so. .. . 

For while we are beginning to be attacked fitfully, other strangethings have been observed from the Tartar Wall. There has been somefighting and shooting in the burned and ruined Ch'ien Men great streetdown below, and Chinese cavalry have been seen chasing and cuttingdown red-coated men. A species of Communism may in the end rise fromthe ashes of the ruined capital, or a new dynasty be proclaimed, ornothing may happen at all, excepting that we shall die of starvationin a few weeks. .. . 

The native Christians in the Su wang-fu are already getting ravenouswith hunger, and are robbing us of every scrap of food they can garnerup. Their provisioning has almost broken down, in spite of everyeffort, and the missionary committees and sub-committees charged withtheir feeding are beginning to discriminate, they say. These vauntedcommittees cannot but be a failure except in those things whichimmediately concern the welfare of the committees themselves. Thefeeble authority of headquarters, now that puny diplomacy has been sobusy, has become more feeble than it was in the first days, and, likethe Chinese Government, we, too, shall soon fall to pieces by anungumming process. Native children are now dying rapidly, and twoweeks more will see a veritable famine. The trees are even now allstripped of their leaves; cats and dogs are hunted down and rudelybeaten to death with stones, so that their carcases may be devoured. Many of the men and women cling to life with a desperation which seemswonderful, for some are getting hardly any food at all, and their ribsare cracking through their skin. There is something wrong somewhere, for while so many are half starving, the crowds of able-bodiedconverts used in the fortification work are fairly well fed. Nobodyseems to wish to pay much attention to the question, although manyreports have been sent in. Perhaps, from one point of view, it iswithout significance whether these useless people die or not. Hardlyany of the many non-combatant Europeans stir beyond the limits of theBritish Legation, even with this lull. All sit there talking--talkingeternally and praying for relief, calculating our chances of holdingout for another two or three weeks, but never acting. A roll, indeed, has been made at last, with every able-bodied man's name set down, anda distribution table drawn up. But beyond that no action has beentaken, and the hundred and more men who might be added to our activeforces are allowed to do nothing. 

This might be all right were there not certain ominous signs aroundus, which show that a change must soon come. For the enemy has plantednew banners on all sides of us, bearing the names of new Chinesegenerals unknown to us. Audaciously driven into the ground but twentyor thirty feet from our outposts, these gaudy flags of black andyellow, and many other colours, flaunt us and mock us with theprotection assured by the Tsung-li Yamen. Still, those despatchescontinue to come in, but the first interpreter of the FrenchLegation, who sees some of them in the original, says that their toneis becoming more surly and imperative. 

It is ominous, too, that the Chinese commands, which have been soreinforced and are now of great strength, are so close to our outerline that they heave over heavy stones in order to maim and hurt ouroutposts without firing. All the outer barricades and trenches arebeing hurriedly roofed in to protect us from this new danger. One ofour men, struck on the head with a twenty-pound stone, has beenunconscious ever since, and a great many many others are badly hurt inother ways. The Chinese can be very ingenious devils if they wish, andthe score against them is piling up more and more. 

XXVI

MORE MESSENGERS

10th August, 1900. 

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At last some great news! Messengers from the relief columns haveactually arrived, and the columns themselves are only a few days'march from Peking. What excitement there has been among thenon-combatant community; what handshaking; what embracing; whatfervent delight! This unique life is to end; we are to becomereasonably clean and quite ordinary mortals again, lost among theworld's population of fifteen hundred millions--undistinguished, unknown--that is, if the relief gets in. .. . 

The messengers came to us apparently from nowhere, walking in afterthe Chinese manner, which is quite nonchalantly, and with the sublimecalm of the East. One of the first slid in and out of the enemy'sbarricades with immense effrontery at dawn, and then climbed theJapanese defences, and produced a little ball of tissue paper from hisleft ear. Fateful news contained so long in that left ear! It was acipher despatch from General Fukishima, chief of the staff of therelieving Japanese columns. It said that the advance guard would reachthe outskirts of Peking on the 13th or 14th, if all went well. Heavens, we all said, as we calculated aloud, that meant only three orfour days more. .. . 

This news was soon duplicated, for hardly had the first excitementsubsided when the news spread that a second messenger from theBritish General of the relieving forces had managed to force his waythrough. It was a confirmation, was his message; three or four daysmore. .. . But the messenger, when he spoke, had other things to say. Hehad been sent out by us a week before by being lowered by ropes fromthe Tartar Wall. Forty miles from Peking he had met Black cavalry andRussian cavalry miles in advance of the other soldiery. They hadcharged at him and captured him, and led him before generals andofficers. .. . The roads leading to Peking were littered with woundedand disbanded Chinese soldiery; there had been much fighting, but thenatives could not withstand the foreigner--that is what theircompatriot said. Everybody was terrified by the Black soldiery fromIndia; they had come in the same way forty years before. .. . 

So the relieving armies are truly rolling up on Peking. It seemsincredible and unreal, but it is undoubtedly true, and it must beaccepted as true. .. . 

As if goaded by the terrors conjured up by these avenging armies, which are now so close, the Tsung-li Yamen, in some last despatches, has informed our Plenipotentiaries that it is decapitating wholesalethe soldiery that have been firing on us--that it wishes for personalinterviews with all our Ministers to arrange everything, so that theremay be no more misunderstandings later on. Vain hope! Numbers ofdocuments are coming in, and every Minister wishes to write somethingin return--to show that with the return of normal conditions therewill be a return of importance. Somehow it seems to me that not one ofthem can become important again in Peking. They have been tooridiculous--politically, they are already all dead. 

XXVII

THE ATTACKS RESUMED

12th August, 1900. 

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All thoughts of relief have been pushed into the middle distance--andeven beyond--by the urgent business we have now on hand. For theattacks have been suddenly resumed, and have been continuous, wellsustained, and far worse than anything we have ever experiencedbefore, even in the first furious days of the siege. What stupendousquantities of ammunition have been loosed off on us during the pastforty-eight hours--what tons of lead and nickel! Some of ourbarricades have been so eaten away by this fire, that there is butlittle left, and we are forced to lie prone on the ground hour afterhour, not daring to move and not daring to send reliefs at theappointed intervals. So intense has the rifle-fire been around the SuWang-fu and the French Legation lines, that high above the deafeningroar of battle a distinct and ominous snake-like hissing can beheard--a hiss, hiss, hiss, that never ceases. It is the high-velocitynickel-nosed bullet tearing through the air at lightning speed, andspitting with rage at its ill success in driving home on someunfortunate wretch. They hiss, hiss, hiss, hour after hour, withoutstopping; and as undertone to that brutal hiss there is the roll ofthe rifles themselves, crackling at us by the thousand like dryfagots. At first this storm of sound paralyses you a little; then alust for battle gains you, and you steadily drive bullets through theChinese loopholes in the hope of finding a Chinese face. Whenever theybunch and press forward we wither them to pieces. .. . But men arefalling on our side more rapidly than we care to think--one rolledover on top of me two hours ago drilled through and through--and ifanything should happen to the relieving columns and delay theirarrival for only two or three days, this tornado of fire will haveswept all our defenders into the hospitals. The Chinese guns are alsobooming again, and shrapnel and segment are tearing down trees andouthouses, bursting through walls, splintering roofs, and wrecking ourstrongest defences more and more. Just now one of our few remainingponies was struck, and it was a pitiable sight, giving a bloodyillustration of the deadly force of shell-fragments. The piece thatstruck this poor animal was not very big, but still it simply toreinto his flank, and seemed to burst him in two. With his entrailshanging out and his agonised eyes mutely protesting, the ponystaggered and fell. Then we despatched him with our rifles. 

Our casualty list has now passed the two hundred mark, they say. In afew days more, fifty per cent. Of the total force of active combatantswill have been either killed or wounded. 

During the lulls which occur between the attacks, when the Chinesesoldiery are probably coolly refreshing themselves with tea and pipesand hauling away those who have succumbed, we hear from the north ofthe city the same dull booming of big guns, continuous, relentless, and never-tiring. It is the sound of the Chinese artillery rangedagainst the great fortified Roman Catholic Cathedral. When we have afew moments we can well picture to ourselves this valiant BishopF----, with cross in hand, like some old-time warrior-priest, pointingto the enemy, and urging his spear-armed flocks to stand firm alongthe outer rim. We can also see, in the smoke and dust, the thin fringeof sailors who must be forming the mainstay of the defence. Perhaps, sprinkled along the compound walls, with harsh-speaking rifles intheir hands, they are a sort of human incense, exorcising by theirmere presence the devils in pagan hearts. .. . 

Scant time for thoughts; none for recording, as each hour shows moreclearly what we may expect. Scarcely has the fire been stilled in onequarter than it breaks out with even greater violence in another, andwe are hurried in small reinforcements from point to point. And fromthe positions on the Tartar Wall, which are now also dusted by acontinually growing fire that would sweep our men off in a cloud ofsandbags and brick-chips, the enemy's attacks can be best understood. The growing number of rifles being brought to bear on us; the violenceand increasing audacity; the building of new barricades that presscloser and closer to our own, and are now so near that they almostcrush in our chests--are all clear from the reports sent down. Therelief columns on the Tientsin road are driving in unwieldy Chineseforces on top of us, and this native soldiery is falling back on thecapital to be remarshalled after a fashion--placed on the city wallsor flung against us in a despairing attempt to kill us all, and removethe Thing which is making the relieving columns advance so quickly. Crazy with fear, and with ghosts of the chastisement of 1860 etched onevery column of dust raised by their retreating soldiery, the ChineseGovernment is acting like one possessed. 

To-day I saw it all beautifully, with the aid of the best glasses wehave got. First came bodies of infantry trotting hurriedly in theirsandals and glancing about them. In the dust and the distance theyseemed to have lost all formation--to be mere broken fragments. Butonce a man stopped, looked up at us, a mere dot in the ruined streetshundreds and hundreds of yards away, and then savagely discharged hisrifle at us. He knew we were on the Tartar Wall, and so sent hisimpotent curses at us through a three-foot steel tube. .. . Behind suchmen were long country carts laden with wounded and broken men, anddriven by savage-looking drivers, powdered with our cursed dust anddriving standing up with voice and whip alone. The teams of ponieswere all mud-stained and tired, and moved very slowly away; and theirgreat iron-hooped wheels clanked discordantly over the stone-pavedways. Sometimes a body of cavalry, with gaudy banners in the van andthe men flogging on their steeds with short whips, have also ridden byescaping from the rout. Infantry and horsemen, wounded in carts andwounded on foot, flow back into the city through the deserted andterror-stricken streets, and it is we who shall suffer. So much ofthis has been understood by everybody, that an order has beenprivately given that no one is to be allowed on the Tartar Wall, excepting the regular reliefs. There is in any case no time for mostof us to creep up there and look on the city below; we are tied to thebarricades and trenches down in the flat among the ruins, chained toour posts by a never-ending rifle-fire. 

XXVIII

THE THIRTEENTH

13th August, 1900. 

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It is the 13th, that fateful number, and there are some who aredivided between hope and fear. Is it good to hope on a 13th, or is itmere foolishness to thing about such things? Who knows?--for we havebecome unnatural and abnormal--subject to atavistic tendencies inthought and action. .. . Most people are keeping their thoughts tothemselves, but actions cannot be hidden. You would not believe someof the things. .. . 

There has not been a sign or a word from the relief column for manyhours. The fleeing Chinese soldiery we witnessed in such numbersyesterday entering the city have stopped rushing in, and now from theTartar Wall the streets below in the outer city seem quite silent anddeserted. Last night, too, it was seen that the line of the enemy'srifles packed against us was so continuous, and the spacing so close, that one continuous flame of fire ripped round from side to side anddeluged us with metal. So heavy was this firing, so crushing, that itwas paralysing. Any part broken into would have been irretrievablylost. The bullets and shells struck our walls and defences in greatswarms sometimes several hundred projectiles swishing down at a time. There must have been ten or twelve thousand infantry firing at us andfifteen guns. Where I lay, with a post of sixteen men, there were morethan five hundred riflemen facing us, at distances varying from fortyfeet to four hundred yards. Every ruined house outside the fringe ofour defence has now been converted into a blockhouse by the persistentenemy. Every barricade we have built has a dozen other barricadesopposing it in parallels, in chessboards, in every kind of formation;and from these barricades the fire poured in since the 10th--that is, for sixty long hours--has only ceased at rare intervals. Ourstretcher-parties have been very busy, but how many men we have lostsince the armistice was deliberately broken no one knows. Yesterday aFrench captain, a gallant officer, who feared nothing, was shot deadthrough the head, making the ninth officer killed or severely woundedsince the beginning. Yesterday, also, the new Mongol market defencestrembled on the brink hour after hour, and with them the fate of threethousand heads. New Chinese troops armed with Mannlicher carbines, thehandiest weapons for barricade fighting, had been pushed up behind aveil of light entrenchments to within twenty feet of the Mongol marketposts, and their fire was so tremendous that it drove right throughour bricks and sandbags. God willed that just as the final rush wascoming a Chinese barricade gave way; our men emptied their magazineswith the rapidity of despair into the swarms of Chinese riflemendisclosed; dozens of them fell killed and wounded, and the rest weredriven back in disorder. Ten seconds more would have made them mastersof our positions. The closeness of this final agony was such thatsquads of reserves, who had not fired a shot during the siege, voluntarily went forward to the threatened points and lay there thewhole night. At last it has been driven home on all that our fatehangs in the balance, and has hung in the balance for weeks. But it istoo late now. If a single link in our chain is broken there will be a_sauve qui pent_ which no heroism can stop. 

XXIX

THE NIGHT OF THE THIRTEENTH

14th August, 1900. 

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All yesterday the fire hardly diminished in violence, and more andmore of our men were hit. .. . The Chinese commanders, having learned ofthe loss of a Chinese general and a great number of his men at theMongol market, have been having their revenge by giving us not aminute's rest. Up to six o'clock yesterday evening I had beencontinually on duty for forty-eight hours, with a few minutes' sleepduring the lulls. At six in the evening I stretched out. At half-pasteight the pandemonium had risen to such a pitch that sleep withoutopiates was impossible. All round our lines roared and barked Mausers, Mannlichers, jingals, and Tower muskets, every gun that could bebrought to bear on us firing as fast and as fiercely as possible in alast wild effort. The sound was so immense, so terrifying, that manycould hardly breathe. Against the barricades, through half-blockedloopholes, and on to the very ground, myriads of projectiles beattheir way, hissing and crashing, ricochetting and slashing, until itseemed impossible any living thing could exist in such a storm. 

It was the night of the 13th. Not a word had been heard of the reliefcolumns, not a message, not a courier had come in. But could anythinghave dared to move to us? Even the Tsung-li Yamen, affrighted anew atthis storm of fire which it can no longer control, had not dared orattempted to communicate with us. We were abandoned to our ownresources. At best we would have to work out our own salvation. Was itto be the last night of this insane Boxerism, or merely the beginningof a still more terrible series of attacks with massed assaults pushedright home on us? In any case, there was but one course--not to cedeone inch until the last man had been hit. All the isolatedpost-commanders--I had risen to be one--decided that on us hinged thefate of all. The very idea of a supreme command watching intelligentlyand overseeing every spot of ground was impossible. It had been a warof post-commanders and their men from the beginning; it would remainso to the bitter end. A siege teaches you that this is always so. 

By ten o'clock every sleeping man had been pulled up and pushedagainst the barricades. Privately all the doubtful men were told thatif they moved they would be shot as they fell back. Everywhere we hadbeen discovering that in the pitch dark many could hardly be held inplace. By eleven o'clock the fire had grown to its maximum pitch. Itwas impossible that it could become heavier, for the enemy was manningevery coign of vantage along the entire line, and blazing so fiercelyand pushing in so close that many of the riflemen must have fallenfrom their own fire. From the great Tartar Wall to the Palaceenclosure, and then round in a vast jagged circle, thousands of jetsof fire spurted at us; and as these jets pushed closer and closer, wegave orders to reply steadily and slowly. Twice black bunches of mencrept quickly in front of me, but were melted to pieces. By twelveo'clock the exhaustion of the attackers became suddenly marked. Therifles, heated to a burning pitch, were no longer deemed safe even byChinese fatalists; and any men who had ventured out into the open hadbeen so severely handled by our fire that they had no stomach for amassed charge. Trumpet calls now broke out along the line and echoedpealingly far and near. The riflemen were being called off. 

But hardly had the fire dropped for ten or fifteen minutes than itbroke out again with renewed vigour. Fresh troops lying in reserve hadevidently been called up, and by one o'clock the tornado was fiercerthan ever. Our men became intoxicated by this terrible clamour, andmany of them, infuriated by splinters of brick and stone that brokeoff in clouds from the barricades and stung us from head to foot, sometimes even inflicting cruel wounds, could no longer be held incheck. By two o'clock every rifle that could be brought in line wasreplying to the enemy's fire. If this continued, in a couple of hoursour ammunition would be exhausted, and we would have only our bayonetsto rely on. I passed down my line, and furiously attempted to stopthis firing, but it was in vain. In two places the Chinese had pushedso close, that hand-to-hand fighting had taken place. This gives alust that is uncontrollable. .. . Everything was being taken out of ourhands. .. . 

Suddenly above the clamour of rifle-fire a distant boom to the fareast broke on my ears, as I was shouting madly at my men. I held mybreath and tried to think, but before I could decide, boom! came ananswering big gun miles away. I dug my teeth into my lips to keepmyself calm, but icy shivers ran down my back. They came faster andfaster, those shivers. .. . You will never know that feeling. Then, boom! before I had calmed myself came a third shock; and then tenseconds afterwards, three booms, one, two, three, properly spaced. Iunderstood, although the sounds only shivered in the air. It was abattery of six guns coming into action somewhere very far off. It mustbe true! I rose to my feet and shook myself. Then, in answer to theheavy guns, came such an immense rolling of machine-gun fire, that itsounded faintly, but distinctly, above the storm around us. Greatforces must be engaged in the open. .. . 

I had been so ardently listening to these sounds that the enemy's firehad imperceptibly faded away in front of me unnoticed, until it hadbecome almost completely stilled. Single rifles now alone cracked off;all the other men must be listening too--listening and wondering whatthis distant rumble meant. Far away the Chinese fire still continuedto rage as fiercely--but near us, by some strange chance, thesedistant echoes had claimed attention. 

Again the booming dully shook the air. Again the machine-guns beattheir replying rataplan. Now every rifle near by suddenly was stilled, and a Chinese stretcher-party behind me murmured, "_Ta ping lai taoliao_"--"the armies arrived. " Somebody took this up, and then we beganshouting it across in Chinese to our enemy, shouting it louder andlouder in a sort of ecstasy, and heaving heavy stones to attract theirattention. We must have become quite crazy, for my throat suddenlygave out, and I could only speak in an absurd whisper. .. . Oh, what anight!. .. 

Behind the barricades facing us we could now distinctly hear theChinese soldiery moving uneasily and muttering excitedly to oneanother. They had understood that it must be the last night ofBoxerism, so we threw more stones and shouted more taunts. Then, as ifaccepting the challenge, a rifle cracked off, a second one joined it, a third, a fourth, and soon the long lines blazed flames andear-splitting sounds again. But it was the last night--this did notmatter--assuredly it was the last night, and from our posts wedespatched the first news to headquarters to report that heavy gunshad been heard to the east. .. . 

Presently, going back during a lull to see ammunition brought up, Ifound that inside our lines the women and children had all risen, andwere craning their necks to catch the distant sounds which had been solong in coming. All night long the buildings in the Su wang-fu, whichare packed with native Christians, had been filled with the sound ofpraying. The elders appointed to watch over this vast flock had beenwarned that perhaps they would all have to retreat to the base at thelast minute, and that all must remain ready during the night and nonesleep. As soon as it was possible, they were told that the relief wascoming--that the end was near. .. . What a sight it was to see them allgrouped together, for they had scrupulously obeyed orders! In onegreat hall five hundred Roman Catholic women and children in soberblue gowns were sitting patiently and silently, with their handsfolded--had been sitting so all the long night, waiting to hear anynews or orders that might be brought to them. Relief or retreat, massacre or deliverance--all must be taken with the stoicism of theEast. A single lamp cast its dim rays over these people; and a hundredfeet farther on were other halls and buildings, all filled tooverflowing with these waiting miserables. A word would have sent themsurging back across the dry Imperial Canal--to seek safety for a fewhours in our base. Would it have been safety? An immense flood offeeling overwhelmed me. .. . 

So the night passed uneasily away, but no more distant sounds wereheard, and in the end we began to wonder whether our ears after thisstrain of weeks had not played us false. 

XXX

HOW I SAW THE RELIEF

14th August, 1900. 

 * * * * *

Day broke, after that tremendous night, in a somewhat shambling andodd fashion. Exhausted by so much vigilance and such a strain, wemerely posted a scattered line of picquets and threw ourselves on theground. It was then nearly five o'clock, and with the growing lighteverything seemed unreal and untrue. There was not a sound around us;there was going to be no relief, and we had been only dreaming horriddreams--that was the verdict of our eyes and looks. There was butscant time, however, for thinking, even if one could have thought withany sense or logic. The skies were blushing rosier and rosier; asolitary crow, that had lived through all that storm, came fromsomewhere and began calling hoarsely to its lost mates. We were deadwith sleep; we would sleep, or else. .. . 

I awoke at eleven in the morning sick as a beaten dog. The sun beatinghotly down, and a fierce ray had found its way through the branches ofmy protecting tree and had been burning the back of my neck. TheEastern sun is a brute; when it strikes you long in a tender spot, itcan make you sicker than anything I know of. Arousing ourselves, wegot up all of us gruntingly; reposted the sentries; drank some blacktea; made a faint pretence at washing; and finding all dead quiet andnot a trace of the enemy, sauntered off for news. Not a wordanywhere, not a sound, not a message. Everybody was standing about inuneasy groups, from the French and German lines to the northernoutposts of the British Legation. Where the devil were our relievingcolumns?

From the Tartar Wall we scanned the horizon with our glasses. Not asoul afoot--nothing. Was all the world still asleep, tired from thenight's debauch, or was it merely the end of everything? As time wenton, and the silence around us was uninterrupted, we became more andmore nervous. In place of the storm of fire which had been raging forso many hours this unbroken calm was terrible; for far worse than allthe tortures in the world is the one of a solitary silent confinement. 

At one o'clock I could stand it no longer. Getting leave to take out askirmishing party, I called for volunteer and got six men and twoChinese scouts. At half-past one we slid over the Eastern Su wang-fubarricades--near where the messengers are sent from--and scurriedforward into the contested territory beyond. Working cautiously in along line, we beat the ground thoroughly; approached the enemy'sflanking barricades; peered over in some trepidation, and found theChinese riflemen gone. Every soul had fled. Something had mostcertainly happened somewhere. This quiet was becoming more and moreeloquent. .. . 

We abandoned our cover, and boldly taking to the brick-litteredstreet, climbed over fortifications which had shut us in for so long. Not a sound or a living thing. On the ground, however, there were manygrim evidences of the struggle which had been so long proceeding. Skulls picked clean by crows and dogs and the dead bodies of thescavenger-dogs themselves dotted the ground; in other places werepathetic wisps of pigtails half covered with rubbish, broken rifles, rusted swords, heaps of brass cartridges--all proclaiming thebitterness with which the warfare had been waged in this small corneralone. Eagerly gazing about us, we slowly pushed on, drinking in allthese details with eager eyes. How sweet it is to be an escapedprisoner even for a few short minutes!

In a quarter of an hour we had cleared the ground intervening betweenour defences and the long-abandoned Customs Street--perhaps a coupleof hundred yards; and peering about us, we at last jumped over theFrench barricade, where our first man had been shot dead two monthsago. Two months--it might have been two years! Still there was not asound. Nothing but acres of ruins. Forward. 

Splitting into two sections, we began working down Customs Streettowards the Austrian Legation, tightly hugging the walls and expectinga surprise every moment. Suddenly, as we were going along in thiscautious manner, a tall, gaunt Chinaman started up only twenty feetfrom us, where he had been lying buried in the ruins. Our rifles wentup with a leap, and "Master, " cried the man, running towards me withoutstretched arms, "master, save me; I am a carter of the foreignLegations, and have only just escaped. " He pulled up his blue tunic, this strange apparition, and showed me underneath his scapula. He wasof Roman Catholic family; there was no time to investigate; he was allright. Telling him to join us, we marched on. We progressed anotherfifty yards, and then there was a scuffle. I looked round, and ourCatholic had disappeared. Were we trapped? Just as I was calling out, he reappeared; this time he was bearing a rifle and a bandolier. Thiswas disconcerting. "I saw the man, " he began calmly, "and with myhands I killed him by pulling on the throat--thus. " He made a horridpantomime with his hands. Behind a wall we found the red and blacktunic of a Chinese soldier, the sash and the boots, but of a corpsethere was no sign. I was glad I understood. "What do you mean bydeceiving me?" I sternly asked the carter. "These are yours, and itwas you who were fighting against us. " The man fell on his knees, andconfessed then and there without subterfuge. He had been captured, hesaid and imprisoned weeks ago by a Chinese commander, who hadthreatened to break the bones of his legs unless he enlisted againstus. So he had joined and had been fighting for a month. Last night, assoon as the big guns had been heard, he deserted, and had lain wherewe found him for fifteen hours, waiting for our advances, and may hislegs be broken if he lied. I paused in doubt for a minute; then I madeup my mind--we let him follow! The odds were in any case against him. 

As we moved stealthily forward we came on more and morefortifications. A formidable blockhouse had been constructed bydragging out big steel safes, looted from the various European officesin this abandoned area, and building them into a thick half-moon ofstone and brick, making a shell-proof defence. On the ground brasscartridge-cases and broken straps and weapons were littered more andmore thickly, but of any sign of life there was absolutely none. Absolute stillness reigned around us. We might have been in a cityabandoned for dozens of years. .. . 

Past this blockhouse we crept more and more cautiously, beating theground thoroughly, and wasting many minutes to make sure that noriflemen lurked in the ruins which covered the ground. Our new recruithad shown us how easily we could be trapped. Loopholes squinted at usfrom countless low-lying barricades roughly made by heaping bricks andcharred timbers together. They had feared our sorties evidently asmuch as we had their rushes, had these Chinese soldiers. Theirfortified lines were hundreds of feet deep. 

We were now down near the abandoned Austrian Legation, and, rapidlytrotting forward in Indian file under cover of the high encirclingwall, we at last reached the main entrance. This was debatable ground. I looked round the corner with one cautious eye, and even as I did so, a shadow rushed along the ground. .. . Instantly I snapped off my riflefrom my hip, the others followed suit, and a howl of canine rageanswered us. We had rolled over a wolfish dog searching for deadbodies. Before we had time to realise much, the savage animal was upagain and rushing at us--to escape through the gate. As it passed, weclubbed and bayonetted him with neatness, for we have now some art inclose-quarter work, and with a last howl the animal's life flickeredout. Dogs are highly dangerous, as we knew to our cost; they give thealarm in a way which no living man, even in these civilised days, canfail to understand. We waited in some anguish to see whether thisscuffle had been heard; we were a quarter of a mile away from our ownlines by the circuitous route we had been forced to take, and if wewere ambuscaded, no one would probably go back to tell the tale. .. . 

Still not a sound, not a word. A little encouraged, we crept morevaliantly into the Austrian Legation, and stood amazed at thespectacle. Rank-growing weeds covered the ground two or three feethigh; all the houses and residences had been gutted by fire, everything combustible burned, leaving a terrible litter. But thebrickwork and stonework stood almost intact, and the tall Corinthianpillars with which it had been the architect's fancy to adorn thismission of His Most Catholic Majesty, stood up white and chaste in allthis scene of devastation and ruin; they might have dated fromcenturies ago. Broken weapons, thousands more of brass cartridges, andsometimes even a soldier's bloodstained tunic could be seen among theweeds. This must have been the site of another camp of Chinesesoldiery. Abandoned straw matting showed where rough huts had oncebeen built line upon line. But all these hosts had flown. 

We now held a council of war. What should we do--push on or go back?It seemed highly dangerous, but suddenly making up my mind, I cutshort all deliberations and ordered an advance. To feel for the enemy, to get in touch with the enemy at all costs, and to scratch him ifpossible, is evidently the scout's duty, even when the scout is but asiege amateur, with broken trousers, a mud-stained shirt and abattered rifle. But we must make ourselves secure. We bolted the biggates behind us; we sweatily piled up sufficient bricks to make itsopening a matter of minutes for an enemy's hand, and then we onceagain trotted forward. This time we were irrevocably inside theLegation, and separated, perhaps, for good and all from our ownpeople. .. . 

We rapidly covered the ground until we reached the extreme easterncorner of the vast enclosing Legation wall. Very recently there hadbeen some one just here for a fire was still smouldering on theground, and in some earthenware bowls there was some cold rice. Wemust see what was beyond. .. . 

The big recruit lent me his broad shoulder, and with some struggling Icaught the edge of an outhouse roof and hitched myself astride of themain wall. Still nothing to be seen except ruined and battered houses;again not a soul, not a dog, not a vestige of life. The others cameup, too, and we rapidly improvised a ladder to get down the other sideand back again if necessary. 

We were busily at work completing these preparations when suddenly thebig recruit grabbed me unceremoniously by the shoulder and uttered asingle word in a hoarse tone of excitement. "Look, " he said; "look!" Ilooked, and far down the street below us towards where lay the Palaceand the Imperial city, I saw a figure rapidly moving. A pair ofbinoculars were pulled out and brought to bear. It was a Chinesesoldier!

We flattened ourselves on the top of the wall like so many crawlingsnails, pushed out our rifles in front of us, and at four hundredyards we most foolishly opened on the man. By instinct and experience, we had all learned much in two months; yet in a moment of excitementeverything was being rapidly unlearned. .. . 

It takes some shooting to get home on a flickering figure, dodgingalong a street with irregular lines, at that range, and I confess wedrew no blood. But still loophole shooting must spoil open-air work, otherwise at that range. .. . The man had paused irresolutely as thestream of bullets had hissed past him, and had then run violently intoa doorway. Presently, as we intently watched, his head emerged, thenhis whole body; and, finally dodging quickly in and out, he gained across-road and disappeared. What did this mean?

It did not take long to learn, for just as we had finished swearing atour ill luck, other figures began to appear in the same direction, andas they ran we could see that they were throwing down their things. Itseemed plain now; these must be deserters slipping out of the Imperialcity and the Palace enclosures and fleeing rapidly to escape somefate. Something must have certainly happened somewhere, although therewas still nothing to be heard, except perhaps a distant movement inthe air, which might mean the rattle of musketry. Sometimes we couldhear that faint suggestion of sound, sometimes we could not; it wasimpossible to say what it was. 

Running gives Dutch courage, so we dropped from our wall, and we, too, began running--towards the deserters. Most foolish scouts were webecoming. The first band of fugitives saw us and bolted to the north, one man loosing off his rifle at us as he ran, and his bullet makingan ugly swish in the air just above our heads. It was that Chinesehip-shot which is practised with jingal and matchlock in the nativehunting, and which these Northern Chinese can with difficulty unlearn. As that swish reached us we pressed forward even more eagerly, andsoon had debouched once more on the long Customs Street--this timemany hundreds of yards higher up than we had ever been before. Flattening ourselves on the ground, and barricading our heads withbricks, we waited in silence for more of the enemy to appear. We werenow admirably and safely posted. 

It was some time before any more of them were to be seen, but at last, in twos and threes, other soldiers appeared, running hurriedly, andlooking quickly about them, as if they expected to be shot down. Thistime they were men of many corps, whose uniforms we could almost makeout at this short distance, and as they ran many of them threw offtheir tunics and loosened their leggings. This meant open and flagrantdesertion. Just as I was about to give the order to fire a volley, adense mass of men, in close formation, came out of a great buildingleaning up against the pink Palace walls and started marching rapidlytowards us. Then as soon as they reached a cross-road five hundredyards away, they bent quickly due north and disappeared in a cloud ofdust. What did this fleeing to the north of the city and this ominousquiet mean? What in the name of all that is extraordinary washappening to cause these strange doings?

There was little time for reflection, however, for like some theatreof the gods new scenes began to unroll. Soon other bodies of troopsappeared and disappeared, always heading away there towards the north, always marching rapidly with hurried looks cast around them. Now safein the knowledge that a general retreat was taking place from thisquarter, we started volleying savagely. Bunched together in twos andthrees, the enemy offered an easy mark, and with a callousness born oflong privations we dropped at least fifteen or twenty men in very fewminutes. Lying flat on the ground our angles soon grew fixed on to ourrifle-sights, and at one house-corner four hundred yards away, sixtimes I made the same shot and dropped a deserter. But this heavyfiring must have attracted attention, for lead began to pelt at usfrom hidden places, and soon this little action became very warm. Itwas a curious experience. .. . 

It was now three in the afternoon, and, excepting for this unexplainedmovement of Chinese troops, we had not discovered any sign of ourrelief. Our volleying was becoming nonsensical, for having picked upnumbers of Chinese Mauser cartridges, we amused ourselves firing awayalmost all the ammunition we carried. This could not continueindefinitely. So once more I drew my men together, and once again wescurried away, changing our direction to due east towards the greatHa-ta Gate. We were becoming callous, now that we knew there was smallpossibility of our being cut off, and half a mile from home meantnothing to us. 

We had almost reached the Ha-ta great street, and were beginning tofeel that by some strange chance we had half the city to ourselves, when a furious galloping gave us a timely signal, and made us shrinkinto a native house, the doorway of which had been beaten in bymarauders. We were just in time, for no sooner had we disappeared thana body of Manchu cavalry came rapidly past, flogging their ponies, andshouting excitedly to one another as they passed. At their head were anumber of high officials, and our new recruit whispered in a hoarsevoice that an old man was no other than Jung Lu, the ManchuGeneralissimo, who had command of everything. But whether this wasactually so or not, there could be no doubt about the soldiery. Theywere _ch'in ping_, or body-guard troops, in sky-blue tunics, and thisretirement was the most significant of all. There was now not a shadowof doubt. 

We waited patiently in some trepidation, until the sound of thesegalloping hoofs had died away completely and then peering out andfinding the coast clear, we ran for it as hard as we could leg. Fasterand faster we spun along; we were not as safe as we thought, Threeminutes brought us back again on Customs Street, and, panting sorelyfrom this unaccustomed exertion, we looked around. Here there was nownot a single sound, not the sight of a single man. 

For many minutes nothing again occurred, but at length more Chinesetroops began to appear, all running rapidly in long flights, and atroop of cavalry came out of a side street not more than two hundredyards away from where we lay, and headed away at a furious gallop. Everybody was obviously making for the north of the city; what wasgoing on in the other quarters to cause this exodus? The cavalry, asthey moved in close formation, were so tempting, that withouthesitation once more our rifles rang out in a well-knit volley. Thatcaused a terrible commotion, for cavalry are an easy mark. Poniesbroke away and galloped frantically into side streets; there was awaving and a mix-up which blurred everything, and yet before we hadtime to realise it, bullets were hissing all round us and kicking uplittle spurts of dust a few inches from our bodies; a resolutecommander was in front of us. This firing became so violent that wewere driven to take shelter, and as we ran and were seen the bulletshissed quicker and quicker. Then as suddenly as it had commenced thispelting ceased; we saw our cavalrymen flicker away in the distance, and once more everything was absolutely quiet. It was obvious thatsomething so urgent was taking place, that no one had any time to losein pranks. 

Many minutes elapsed before we noticed any fresh signs of life, and weremained spread across the street on our stomachs, earnestly searchingin vain for some explanation. At last, when I was becoming tired ofit, figures began to move on the long street again--little indecisiveblue dots that jerked forward, halted, appeared and disappeared in amost curious way. They were also coming towards us--jerking about likepeople possessed. Climbing a wall, I brought my glasses to bear; theywere ordinary townspeople, there was not a shadow of doubt about that, men, women, and children, running violently, waving and calling to oneanother, and apparently much distressed. 

I remained on this wall-top idly gazing until my vision began tobecome blurred, and I could no longer see. Then something made meclose my eyes for a second to regain command over them again; and whenI opened them and looked again through that powerful Leiss, my jawdropped. This time, with a vengeance, it was something new. Densebodies of men in white tunics and dark trousers were debouching intothe street, thousands of yards away, and were then marching dueeast--that is, towards the Palace. They came on and on, until itseemed they would never cease. What were these newcomers? Were theywhite troops at last--were they Bannermen of the white Banners?. .. 

They might be anything--anything in the world--but they might be. .. . 

Yes, without a doubt they might be ordinary Russian infantry of theline. Russian infantry of the line! It was imperative to learn. 

I clambered off the wall and decided at once on a grim test. All of uspushed up our flaps to the extreme range and gave four sharpvolleys--the eight rifles crashing off jarringly together. As we werepreparing to give them the last cartridge on the clips, the whitespecks we could just see with the naked eye stopped and flickeredaway. Then as we waited there was a moment's silence; a little vapourspurted up far away, and bang! a shell whizzed, and burst two hundredyards to our rear. That was an immense surprise! But now we had nodoubts; these were European troops; the relief must have come; it wasall over, we must communicate the news. .. . 

Before our ideas had grouped themselves coherently, we found ourselvesbolting home--bolting like madmen. We charged clear down the middle ofthe streets, with a disregard for everything; we headed straight asarrows for the French lines, right through the heart of the mostformidable Chinese works, where but twelve hours before furiousattacks had been developed. We tore through hundreds of feet oftrenches, barricades, saps, half-opened tunnels, where everything wasscored and beaten by the riotous passage of nickel and lead. Wevaguely saw, as we rushed, lines of mat huts, broken walls, charredtimbers, countless brass cartridge cases, gaping holes--all thewreckage left by these weeks of insane warfare. But of living thingsthere was not a trace. 

Beating our way rapidly forward, we at length passed through thosedeath-strewn French Legation lines, and reached our own lastbarricades, where the defence had been driven. Supposing that our menwere still behind them, we violently shouted that we were friends. Nobody answered us. 

Curiously alarmed, we clambered forward more and more quickly, and atlast near the fortified little Hotel de Pekin a confused sound ofvoices arose from a stoutly fortified quadrangle. Then as we drewnearer the voices grew, until they framed themselves intohalf-suppressed cheers--a multitude of men uneasily greeting andcalling to one another. At least, we had not been abandoned I put myleg up to swarm over a wall, and suddenly a thick smell greeted mynostrils, a smell I knew, because I had smelt it before, and yet asmell which belonged to another world. .. . With tremendousheart-beating, I looked over. It was the smell of India! Into thisquadrangle beyond hundreds of native troops were filing and pilingarms. They were Rajputs, all talking together, and greeting some ofour sailors and men, and demanding immediately _pane, pane, pane_ allthe time in a monotonous chorus. I could not understand that word. Therelief had come; this must be some sections of an advance guard whichhad been flung forward, and had burst in unopposed. .. . 

We hurried forward in a sort of daze and looked for officers, to askthem how they had come, and whether it was all right. We found a knotof them standing-together, wiping the sweat from their streamingfaces, and calling for water. They wanted to go to the BritishLegation; not to this place--what was it; where was the BritishLegation? In the heat and smell and excitement those continuousquestions made one confused and angry. This advance guard which hadrushed in could not understand our all-split area; yet it had been thesaving of us. I told them where the British Legation was. I told themto follow me; I was going to run. 

I ran on, once more choking a little, and with a curious desire toweep or shout or make uncouth noises. I was now terribly excited. Iremember I kicked my way through barricades with such energy that oncefor my foolishness I came crashing down, my rifle loosing off of itsown account and the bullet passing through my hat. I did not care;the relief had come. It was an immense occasion and I had not beenthere to see it. 

Along the dry canal-bed, as I ran out of the Legation Street, I notedwithout amazement that tall Sikhs were picking their way in littlegroups, looking dog-tired. But they were very excited, too, and wavedtheir hands to me as I ran, and called and cried with curiousintonations. Pioneers, smaller men, in different turbans, were alreadysmashing down our barricades, and clearing a road, and from the west, the Palace side, a tremendous rifle and machine-gun fire was dustingendlessly. I rushed into the British Legation through the canalopen-cut, and here they were, piles and piles of Indian troops, standing and lying about and waving and talking. A British general andhis staff were seated at a little table that had been dragged out, andwere now drinking as if they, too, had been burned dry with thirst. Around all our people were crowding a confused mass of marines, sailors, volunteers, Ministers--everyone. Many of the women werecrying and patting the sweating soldiery that never ceased streamingin. People you had not seen for weeks, who might have, indeed, beendead a hundred times without your being any the wiser, appeared nowfor the first time from the rooms in which they had been hidden andacted hysterically. They were pleased to rush about and fetch waterand begin to tell their experiences. All that day, I was told, thesehidden ones had taken a sudden interest in the hospital; had rousedthemselves from their lethargy and fright, because the end was coming. Now. .. . 

As we stood about, twisting our fingers and cheering, and trying tofind something sensible to say or to do, there was a rush of peopletowards the lines connecting with the American Legation and the TartarWall This caused another tremendous outburst of cheering andcounter-cheering, and led by C----, the American Minister, columns ofAmerican infantry in khaki suits and slouch hats came pressing in. Inthey came--more and more men, until the open squares were choking withthem. These men were more dog-tired than the Indian troops, and theiruniforms were stained and clotted with the dust and sweat flung onthem by the rapid advance. Soon there was such confusion andexcitement that all order was lost, until the Americans began filingout again, and the native troops were pushed to the northern line ofdefences. In the turmoil and delight everything had been temporarilyforgotten, but the growing roar of rifles had at length calledattention to the fact that there might be more fierce fighting. Everyminute added to the din, and soon the ceaseless patter of sound showedmachine-guns were firing like fury. Somebody called out to me thatthere was a fine sight to be seen from the Tartar Wall, for those whodid not mind a few more bullets; and, enticed by the storm of soundthat rose ever higher and higher, I ran hastily through our linestowards the city bastions. Every street and lane from the Ch'ien MenGate was now choked with troops of the relieving column, all Britishand American, as far as I could see, and already the pioneers attachedto each battalion were levelling our rude defences to the ground inorder to facilitate the passage of the guns and transport waggons. .. . Strange cries smote one's ears--all the cursing of armed men, whosediscipline has been loosened by days of strain and the impossibilityof manoeuvring. One word struck me and clung to me again; everybodyamong the Indian troops was crying it: "_Chullo, chullo, chullo_, "they were calling. 

The general advance, which had been from the outer city, as soon asthe news had been brought through that a way to the Legations had beenopened, had thrown the various units into an immense confusion. Infantry, cavalry, artillery, and the fighting trains, were all mixedin a terrible tangle. Some had come forward so rapidly, in theireagerness not to be left out of it all, that they had passed in underthe walls as soon as the gates had been burst open, and had now gotjammed into our narrow streets and were unable to move. Just under theramp of the Tartar Wall I came on some Indian cavalry--about thirty orforty troopers covered with mud and dirt, and led by a single Britishofficer. As soon as the latter caught sight of me, he shouted an angryquestion as to what all this firing meant, and how in h---- he couldget out of this into the open. .. . He rained his questions at me likethe others had done, never waiting for an answer. The firing, in alltruth, had increased enormously, and now rang out with a mosttremendous roar. It always came from over there to the northwest, round about the Palace entrances. Evidently Chinese troops wereholding all the Palace gates in great force, and for some reasonwished to keep the relief columns at bay at all costs until nightfall. I yelled something of this to my disconsolate cavalry officer, andsuggested that he should follow me up the wall and see for himself. Iknew nothing. "Cavalry can't climb a wall, " he furiously replied as Irushed up above, and as I climbed higher that voice followed me ingusts which became fainter and fainter, "Cavalry can't climb a wall!cavalry can't climb a wall!" Then the road blotted him and his voicecompletely out and a swelling scene was before me. 

For up there I soon understood. A mass of Indian infantry, with somemachine-guns, had established themselves for hundreds of yards alongthis commanding height, among the old Chinese barricades, and were nowfiring as fast as they could down into the distant Palace enclosures. Overhead bullets were passing in continuous streams, and crouching lowin an angle of the buttresses lay a number of wounded men. Of theenemy, however, there was no sign to be seen; that he was firing backmore and more quickly and desperately was certain. All thesebullets. .. . 

As I stood and looked, suddenly the horrid bark of the modernhigh-velocity field-gun began down below in our lines, and the wordpassed along that a British battery had succeeded in getting throughthe jam, and was opening on the enemy from just outside the Legations. The barking went on very rapidly for a few minutes, and then ceased assuddenly as it had begun. The cause was not long to seek; an infantryadvance had followed, for without any warning swarms of Chineseriflemen began running out from the nests of ruined Chinese houses afew hundred yards to the rear of our old lines. They came out in rapidrushes just as flights of startled sparrows dart over the ground, and, although very distant, from the commanding height of the Tartar Wallthey offered a splendid mark. The rifles rattled at them as hard aspossible, but the practice was as poor as ever. Of the first batch adozen fell and began crawling and staggering away; but the next lot, although they ran and halted at first like dazed men under the sleetof nickel, rapidly became more cunning. All fell as if by some suddensignal on the ground, and crawling and jumping forward, they soonmanaged to push through without losing a single man, and immediatelyafter this there was a droll incident such as only occurs at suchtimes as these. 

These bunches of men had ceased falling back in their sudden rout, andthe firing of our men was being concentrated on some distant wallsflanking the Palace enclosures, when a solitary Chinese rifleman, whohad evidently been forgotten in the turmoil, trotted peacefully out. Then, seeing he was almost in the hands of his enemies, he ran like ahunted deer straight across a vast open, which lies directly in frontof the Dynastic Gate--never seeking cover, but running like a madmanin the open. It was wonderful. 

A roar went up from our whole line when he was seen, but the infantrydid not attempt to bring him down. A single machine-gun startedrapping at him. .. . The man ran faster and faster as the swish ofbullets hurtled around him, until his legs were twinkling so rapidlythat he seemed to be fairly flying. The machine-gun went on rappingand clanging ever quicker as it followed him up, and it seemed atlength impossible that he should get through. With a natural impulse, everybody's attention became concentrated on this fugitive: would hereach cover in safety? The answer came almost before one had thoughtthe question, for with sudden disgust the machine-gun stopped dead;the man ran a few seconds longer, and then with a last bound he haddisappeared--a tiny dot of blue and red flicking vaguely away behindsome wall. Instinctively, then, some one began laughing; the next mantook it up, and soon a roar of hoarse-throated laughter came from thehundreds of Indian soldiery who had witnessed the scene. It was likea scene in a theatre from that height, and I remember that thislaughter of free men resounded in my ears for a long time--thelaughter of free men who have never been enslaved in bricks. It camefrom straight off the chest, without any nervous nasal twanging orsudden stopping. .. . 

Soon after this the firing dropped and dwindled away to nothing, as ifby common consent. Everybody was dog-tired, and as night fell bothsides felt that nothing could be gained or materially changed untilanother day had dawned. I wandered round for the last time. Our lines, so carefully and painfully built up during those long never-endingweeks, had crumbled to pieces in half as many hours. The barricadesand trenches obstructing the streets had been thrown all in a lump andsent to join the huge litter which surrounded them. There was hardly asentry or a picquet to be seen, only a hundred of little camp-firestwinkling and twinkling everywhere. Such battalions and units as hadpushed in had bivouacked exactly where they had halted. Far away underthe Tartar Wall, on the long, sandy stretches, there were little woodfires blazing at regular intervals, with countless dots moving around. From a hundred other places there came that confused murmur which, speaks of masses of men and animals. There were faint cries, hoarsecalls, and orders, with always a vague undercurrent trembling in theair. For the time being, they were only British and Americantroops--not a soldier of a single other nationality had been seen. Asthe hours went, other people, whose troops had not come in, beganmaking excuses, and pretending that their generals were very wise inacting as they had done. There were all sorts of theories. Some saidthat they were securing all the gates of the city, and capturing theCourt, and seeing to very important things. It was the politicalsituation of three months ago being suddenly reborn, reincarnated, byall these people, before we had even breathed the air of freedom. Itwas for this that we had been rescued by the main body of the troops:merely because had we been all killed and all recent Peking historymade an utter blank, there would have been a terrible gulf which noprotocols could bridge. It would have meant an end, an absolute end, such as governments and their distinguished servants do not reallylove. We were mere puppets, whose rescue would set everything merrilydancing again--marionettes made the sport of mad events. We had merelysaved diplomacy from an impossible situation. .. . 

As I stood there in the night, thinking of these things, and trying toescape from people with theories, a faint cheering arose, a hurrahingwhich somehow had but little vigour. I knew what it meant; the groundwas being noisily cleared right up to the Palace walls, to make surethat none of the enemy were lurking in the ruins, and that the playcould begin merrily on the morrow. After that cheering came a few dullexplosions, the blowing-up of a few unnecessary walls, and then allwas dead quiet again, excepting for the faint stirring of the soldieryencamped around us, which never ceased. There was not a volley, not ashot. It was all over, this siege, everything was finished. 

With a growing blackness and distress in my heart, which I could notexplain, and sought in vain to disguise, I wandered about. I wantedsome more movement--some fresh distraction to tear my attention awayfrom gloomy thoughts. 

Near the battered Hotel de Pekin officers who had strayed from theircommands and who were hungry had already gathered, and were paying ingold for anything they could buy. Luckily, there were a few cases ofchampagne left and a few tins of potted things, which could now betranquilly sold. I found some French uniforms. Some officers had atlast come in from the French commander, saying that at daylight theFrench columns would march in. At present they were too exhausted tomove. 

All these men, seated at the tables, were noisily discussing therelief. I learned how it had been effected and the moves of the fewpreceding days. They said that the Russians had attempted to steal amarch on the Japanese on the night of the 13th, in order to force theEastern gates, and reach the Imperial city and the Empress Dowagerbefore any one else. That had upset the whole plan of attack, andthere had then simply been a mad rush, everyone going as hard aspossible, and trusting to Providence to pull them through. 

Most of the officers at the tables soon became highly elated. That isthe way when your stomach has been fed on hard rations and you havehad fourteen days of the sun. They then all began shouting and singingand not talking so much. But still they were all devilishly keen toknow about the siege, and who had fought best, and who had beenkilled. 

I left them in what remains of a little barricaded and fortified hoteldisputing away in rather a foolish fashion, because they were more orless inebriate and the sun had burned them badly. And speeding to my_cache_, I drew out my two blankets and my waterproof. While I hadbeen forgetting other things, I had learned two new things--how tosleep and how to shoot--and now since there was no more need topractise the one, I would do the other. 

PART III-THE SACK

I

THE PALACE

16th August, 1900. 

 * * * * *

The next morning (which was only yesterday!) I awoke in much the samestrange despondency. Around me, as the grey light stole softly into mylean-to, everything was absolutely quiet. It was the same in every wayas it had been the morning after the last terrible night; and yet thatwas already so long ago! Almost mechanically, I searched the breastpocket of my soil-worn shirt for the previous day's orders, so as tosee about picquet posting; then I remembered suddenly, with a curiousheart-sinking, that it was all over, finished, completed. .. . It wasso strange that it should be so--that everything should have come sosuddenly to an end. After all those experiences, to be lying on theground like some tramp in Europe, without a thing to one's name, wasto be merely grotesque and incongruous. Yet it was necessary to becomeaccustomed immediately to the idea that one belonged to the ordinaryworld, where one would not be distinguished from one's fellow; whereeverything was quiet and orderly. .. . And I was separated from this bysuch a mighty gulf. I knew so many things now. What! was I no longerto experience that supreme delight of shooting and being shot at--ofthat unending excitement? Oh! was it really over?. .. 

I got up, and shook myself disconsolately, retied what remained of aneckcloth, and then looked in disgust at my boots. My boots! Two and ahalf months' work and sleep in them--my only pair--had not improvedtheir appearance. Yet I had not even suspected that before; the evilfruit of relief had made my nakedness clear. .. . 

Alongside the whole post of ten men was still peacefullyslumbering--regulars and volunteers heaped impartially together. Poordevils! Each one, after the enormous excitement of the relief, hadcome back mechanically to his accustomed place, because this strangelife of ours, imposed by the discipline of events, has become a secondnature, which we scarcely know how to shake off. Like tired dogs, westill creep into our holes. The youngest were moaning and tossing, asthey have done every night for weeks past--shaking off sleep like aharmful narcotic, because the poison of fighting is too strong formost blood in these degenerate days. What sounds have I not heardduring the past two months--what sighs, what gasps, what groans, whatmuttered protests! When men lie asleep, their imaginations betraytheir secret thoughts. .. . 

Day had not broken properly before the murmur and movements of thenight before rose again. This time, as I looked around me, they weremore marked--as if the relieving forces had become half accustomed totheir strange surroundings, and were acting with the freedom offamiliarity. There were bugle-calls and trumpet-calls, the neighingand whinnying of horses, the rumble of heavy waggons, calls andcries. .. . But hidden by the high walls and the barricades, nothingcould be seen. We got something to eat, and, wishing to explore, Imarched down to the dry canal-bed, jumped in, and made for theWater-Gate, through which the first men had come. In a few steps I wasoutside the Tartar Wall, for the first time for nearly three longmonths. At last there was something to be seen. Far along here, therewere nothing but bivouacs of soldiery moving uneasily like antssuddenly disturbed, and as I tramped through the sand towards thegreat Ch'ien Men Gate I could see columns of other men, already inmovement, though day had just come, winding in and out from the outerChinese city. Thick pillars of smoke, that hung dully in the morningair, were rising in the distance as if fire had been set to manybuildings; but apart from these marching troops there was not a livingsoul to be seen. The ruins and the houses had become mere landmarksand the city a veritable desert. 

I wandered about listlessly and exchanged small talk disconsolatelywith numbers of people. Nobody knew what was going to happen, buteverybody was trying to learn from somebody else. The wildest rumourswere circulating. The Russians and Japanese had disappeared throughthe Eastern Gates of the city, and the gossip was that each, in tryingto steal a march on the other, had knocked up against large bodies ofChinese troops, who, still retaining their discipline, had stood theirground and inflicted heavy losses on the rivals. But whether this wastrue or not, there was, for the time being, no means of knowing. Ithought of my last rifle-shots of the siege at those endless white andblack dots, which had suddenly debouched on that long, dusty street, and held my tongue. Idly we waited to see what was going to happen. After so many climaxes one's imagination totally failed. 

It was still very early in the morning when, without any warning, gallopers came suddenly from the American headquarters and set all thesoldiery in motion. I remember that it seemed only a few minutesbefore the American infantry had become massed all round the southernentrances to the Palace, while with a quickness which came as an oddsurprise to me after the deliberation of the siege field-guns suddenlyopened on the Imperial Gates. A number of shells were pitched againstthe huge iron-clamped entrances at a range of a few hundred yards witha horrid coughing, and presently, yielding to this bombardment, with acrash the first line had been beaten to the ground. I understood thenwhy the powerful American Gatlings had been kept playing on the fringeof walls and roofs beyond; for as the infantry charged forward in someconfusion, with their cheering and bugling filling the air, thedusting Chinese fire, which we knew so well, rang out with an unendingrattle and hissing. Thousands of riflemen had been silently lyinginside the Palace enclosures ever since the previous afternoon waitingfor this opportunity. It was the last act. Well, it had come. .. . 

The Chinese fire was partially effective, for as I ran forward throughthe burst and bent gates, panting as if my heart would break, atrickle of wounded American soldiers came slowly filing out. Some werehobbling, unsupported, with pale faces, and some were being carriedquite motionless. On the ground of this first vast enclosure, whichwas hundreds and hundreds of yards long and entirely paved with stone, were a number of Chinese dead--men of some resolution, who had metthe charge in the open and died like soldiers. That, indeed, had beenour own experience. Even with the ambiguous orders which must havebeen given in every command ranged against us, there were always menwho could not be restrained, but charged right up to our bayonets. .. . Now as I ran forward firing was going on just as heavily, and the uglyrush and swish of bullets filled the air with war's rude music. Itseemed curious to me that everyone should be out in the open with nocover; after a siege one has queer ideas. 

The bursting of this first set of gates meant very little, as Ipersonally knew full well, for immediately beyond was a far morepowerful line, with immense pink walls heaving straight up into theair. The Tartar conquerors, who had designed this Palace, had withgood purpose made their Imperial residence a last citadel in the hugecity of Peking--a citadel which could be easily defended to the deathin the old days even when the enemy had seized all the outer walls, for without powerful cannon the place was impregnable. On the sky-lineof this great outer wall Chinese riflemen, with immense audacity, still remained, and as I ran for cover rifles were quickly andfuriously discharged at me. .. . Presently the American guns camerapidly forward, but their commanders were wary, and did not seem tolike to risk them too close. There was a short lull, while immensescaling ladders, made by the Americans for attacking the city walls incase the relief had failed to get in any other way, were rushed up. The idea was evidently to storm the walls and batter in the gates, line upon line, until the Imperial residences were reached and theinmost square taken. It might take many hours if there was muchresistance. The area to be covered was immense. To the north a faintbooming proclaimed that other forces, perhaps the Russians and theJapanese still in rivalry, were at work on this huge Forbidden City, racing once more to see that neither got the advantage of the other. . .. All this meant slow work without startling developments. Everybodywas moving very deliberately, as if time was of no value. A new ideacame into my head. It was impossible to cover such distancescontinually on foot without becoming exhausted. Already I was tiredout. I must seize a mount somewhere before it was too late. I must goback. 

Trotting quickly, I reached the Legation area to find that the scenehad changed. The ruined streets were once again filled with troops. The transport and fighting trains of a number of Indian regiments, which had spent the night somewhere in the outer Chinese city, hadevidently been hurriedly pushed forward at daylight to be ready forany eventualities. Ambulance corps and some very heavy artillery weremixed with all these moving men and kicking animals in hopelessconfusion, and rude shouts and curses filled the air as all tried topush forward. Among these countless animals and their jostling driversit was almost impossible to fight one's way; but with a struggle Ireached the dry canal, and, once more jumping down, I had a road tomyself. I went straight along it. 

Under the Tartar Wall, as I climbed again to the ground-level, I metthe head of fresh columns of men. This time they were whitetroops--French Infanterie Coloniale, in dusty blue suits of torn anddiscoloured Nankeen. There must have been thousands of them, for aftersome delay they got into movement, and, enveloped in thick clouds ofdust, these solid companies of blue uniforms, crowned withdirty-white helmets, started filing past me in an endless stream. Theofficers were riding up and down the line, calling on the men to exertthemselves, and to hurry, hurry, hurry. But the rank and file werepitifully exhausted, and their white, drawn faces spoke only of thefever-haunted swamps of Tonkin, whence they had been summoned toparticipate in this frantic march on the capital. They had always beenbehind, I heard, and had only been hurried up by constant forcedmarching, which left the men mutinous and valueless. Once again theywere being hurried not to be too late. .. . 

I only lost these troops to find myself crushed in by long lines ofmountain artillery carried on mules, and led by strange-lookingAnnamites. In a thin line they stretched away until I could onlydivine how many there were. These batteries, however, were not goingforward, and to my surprise I found the guns being suddenly loaded andhauled to the top of the Tartar Wall up one of the ramparts which hadbeen our salvation. This was a new development, and in my interest, forgetting my pony, I ran up, too. 

Up there I found a mass of people, mostly comprising those who hadbeen spectators rather than actors in the siege. I remember beingseized with strange feelings when I saw their little air of derisionand their sneers as they looked down towards the Palace in pleasurableanticipation. They imagined, these self-satisfied people who had doneso little to defend themselves, that a day of reckoning had at lastcome when they would be able to do as they liked towards thisdetestable Palace, which had given them so many unhappy hours. Itwould all be destroyed, burned. Little did they know!

Soon enough these small French batteries of light guns came intoaction, and sent a stream of little shells into the Palace enclosuresa couple of thousand yards away. The majority pitched on the gaudyroofs of Imperial pavilions far inside the Palace grounds, burstinginto pretty little fleecy clouds, and starting small smouldering firesthat suddenly died down before they had done much damage. But a numberfell short, and swept enclosures where I knew American soldiery hadalready penetrated. I drew my breath, but said nothing. .. . 

The view from here was perfect. The sun had risen and was shiningbrightly. Directly below lay the ruined Legations, with their rudefortifications and thousands of surrounding native houses levelledflat to the ground; but beyond, for many miles, stretched the vastcity of Peking, dead silent, excepting for these now accustomed soundsof war, and half hidden by myriads of trees, which did not allow oneto see clearly what was taking place. The Palace, with its immensewalls, its yellow roofs, and its vast open places, lay mysteriouslyquiet, too, while this punishment was meted out on it. You could notunderstand what was going on. To the very far north a heavy cloud, which had already attracted my attention, now rose blacker andblacker, until it spread like a pall on the bright sky. Cossacks orJapanese, who by this time had swept over the entire ground, must havemet with resistance; they were burning and sacking, and a hugeconflagration had been started. 

For a quarter of an hour and more I watched in an idle, tiredcuriosity, which I could not explain, those little French shellsbursting far away and falling short, and presently, as I expected, theinevitable happened. A young American officer rode up and beganshouting angrily up to the Wall. I knew exactly what he meant, buteverybody was so interested that he remained unnoticed. And so, presently, more furious than ever, he dismounted and rushed up redwith rage. He Was so angry that he was funny. He wanted to know if thecommander of these d---- pop-guns knew what he was firing at, andwhether he could not see the United States army in full occupation ofthe bombarded points. He swore and he cursed and he gesticulated, until finally cease fire was sounded and the guns were ordered down. All the Frenchmen were furious, and I saw P----, the Minster, go downin company with the gaunt-looking Spanish _doyen_, vowing vengeanceand declaiming loudly that if they were stopped everybody must bestopped too. There must be no favouring; that they would not have. Iunderstood, then, why the mountain guns had come so quickly intoaction; they were gaining time for that exhausted colonial infantry toget round to some convenient spot and begin a separate attack. It waseach one for himself. 

Somehow I understood now that it was a useless time for ceremony, andthat one must act just as one wished. So, finding some ponies tetheredto a post below, without a word I mounted one and rode rapidly back tothe Palace. For an instant, as I passed the great Ch'ien Men Gate, Icould see Indian troops filing out in their hundreds, and forcing apath through the press of incoming transport and guns. Evidently theBritish commanders considered that the thing was over; that it was nouse going on. Already they had had enough of our Peking methods. .. . 

I must have ridden nearly a mile straight through the vast enclosuresof the Palace, past lines and lines of American infantry lying on theground, with the reserve artillery trains halted under cover of highwalls, before I saw ahead of me a set of gates which were stillunbroken. General firing had quite ceased now, and excepting for anoccasional shot coming from some distant corner, there was no sound. The bulk of the American infantry had not even been advanced as far asI had come. A skirmishing line, evidently formed only a short timebefore my arrival, was still lying on the ground; but the men werelaughing and smoking, and the officers had withdrawn out of the heatof the sun into a side building, where they were examining a map. Thescaling-ladders were left behind. I was soon told that orders had comedirect from headquarters to stop the attack absolutely, and not toadvance an inch further on any consideration. The inner courts of thePalace and the residences of the Emperor and the Empress Dowager couldnot be approached until concerted action had been taken up by all theAllies. I laughed--it was the hydra-headed diplomacy of Peking raisingits head defiantly less than eighteen hours after the first soldiershad rushed in. .. . 

The massive set of gates in front of me were those just without a mostbeautiful marble courtyard. That I knew from the rude Chinese maps ofthe Forbidden City which are everywhere sold; if this boundary werepassed the Imperial Palaces, with all their treasures, would bereached. I thought, with my mouth watering a little, although I had noactual desire for riches, of General Montauban, created Comte dePalikao, because in the 1860 expedition, when the famous Summer Palacewas so ruthlessly sacked, he had taken all the most splendid blackpearls he could find and had carried them back to the Empress Eugenieas a little offering. If one could only get past this boundary and theprotocol had not stepped in!

Moved a little by such thoughts, I advanced on the central gate, andpeered through a chink near which an infantryman was standing alert, rifle in hand. There were the marble courtyards, the beautiful yellowdecorated roofs. I could see them clearly, and then . .. A rifle fromthe other side was discharged almost in my ear; a bullet hissed past afew inches from my head, too; and I had a flitting vision of a Chinesesoldier in the sky-blue tunic of the Palace Guards darting back on theother side. There must still be numbers of soldiery waiting sullenlybeyond for the expected advance; they would only fall back in rapidflight as our men rushed in, just as they had been doing from thebeginning. I discharged my own revolver rather aimlessly through thechink in the hope that something would happen, but all became quietagain. Everything was finished here. 

But although the advance down this grand approach to the inner hallsand Palaces had been stayed, nothing had been said about piercingthrough the great outer enclosures to the right and left; and, catching my pony, I rode round a corner where a broad avenue led toanother set of entrances. Perhaps here would be something. All along Ifound a sprinkling of American infantrymen, in their sweaty anddust-covered khaki suits, lying down and fanning themselves withanything that came handy, and sending rude jests at one another. Old-fashioned Chinese jingals, gaudy Banners, and even Manchulong-bows, were scattered on the ground in enormous confusion. ThePalace Guards belonging to the old Manchu levies had evidently beensurprised here by the advance of the main body of American troopsthrough the Dynastic Gate, and had fled panic-stricken, abandoningtheir antiquated arms and accoutrements as they ran. The soldiery whohad been doing all the fighting and firing must have been the moremodern field forces engaged in the last attacks on the Legations, orthose driven in on Peking by the rout on the Tientsin road. Still, there was nothing worth seeing, and the miniature Tartar towerscrowning the angles of the great pink walls looked down in contempt, as if conscious that no enemy could hurt them. I must push along. 

I trotted quickly, exchanging chaff with the Americans, who called outto me with curious oaths that they had had no breakfast, and wanted toknow why in h---- this fun was being stopped, and that they were beingleft there. Alas! I could give them no news. I only swore back in thesame playful way. At the end of an immense wall I came on the last ofthis soldiery--a corporal's guard, squatting round a small wicket-gateand looking very tired. They told me that they were still being shotat from somewhere on the inside; and even as I paused and looked acurious _pot-pourri_ of missiles grounded angrily against thegate-top. There were modern bullets, old iron shot, and two arrows--astrange assortment. Somehow those quivering arrows, shot from over theimmense pink walls, and attempting to vent their old-fashioned wrathon the insolent invaders who had penetrated where never before anenemy's foot had trod, made us all stare and remain amazed. It seemedso curious and impossible--so out of date. Then one of the Americansran into a guard-house, bringing out with him a huge Manchu bow, whichhe had secreted there as his plunder. He plucked with difficulty thearrows out of the woodwork in which they had been plunged, and withan immense twanging of catgut sent them high into the air, until theywere suddenly lost to our sight in the far beyond. An answer was notlong in coming. In less than half a minute a crackle of firearms brokeharshly on the air, and a fresh covey of bullets whistled highoverhead. The enemy was plainly still on the alert inside the lastenclosures, where no one might penetrate. What a pity it had beenstopped. .. . 

I rode off, bearing away some flags and swords, and, making due east, as last reached some broad avenues near the Eastern Gates of thisForbidden City. .. . Fresh masses of moving men now appeared. The mainbody of French infantry I had seen a couple of hours before were beingmarched in here, while smaller bodies were tramping off to the north, and sappers were blowing down walls to clear their way. As I ambledalong, seeking a way out, a couple of officers galloped up to me, and, touching their helmets, begged me in the name of goodness to tell themwhat was being done. What were the general orders, they wanted toknow. I explained to them that nobody knew anything; that as far as Icould see, the Americans had stopped attacking for good; that theIndian troops were already marching out into the Chinese city; andthat nothing more was to be done, as the other columns had beencompletely lost touch with. 

"_Toujours cette confusion, toujours pas d'ordres, "_ the Frenchofficers angrily commented, and in a few words they told me rapidlyhow from the very start at Tientsin it had been like this, each columnracing against the others, while they openly pretended to co-operate;with everyone jealous and discontented. Where were the Russians, theItalians, and the Germans? I answered that I had not the slightestidea, and that nobody knew, or appeared to care at all. I personallywas going on; I had had enough of it. .. . 

To my surprise, as I turned to go, I found that the men of theInfanterie Coloniale, in their dirty-blue suits, had pushed up asclose as possible to overhear what was being said, and now surroundedus. One private indeed boldly asked the officers whether they weregoing to be able to enter the Palace at once; and when he got an angrynegative, he and his comrades took to such cursing and swearing, thatit seemed incredible that this was a disciplined army. The men wantedto know why they had been dragged forward like animals in this burningheat and stifling dust, day after day, until they could walk nolonger, if they were to have no reward--if there was to be nothing totake in this cursed country. In the hot air the sullen complaints ofthese sweating men rang out brutally. They wanted to loot; to breakthrough all locked doors and work their wills on everything. Otherwise, why had they been brought? These men knew the history of1860. 

I turned in disgust, and went slowly back the way I had come, only tofind all unchanged. .. . Everything had obviously been stopped byexplicit orders; there was no doubt about that now; diplomacy, afraidto allow any one to enter the inner Palaces for fear of what wouldfollow, and how much one Power might triumph over another, had calledan absolute halt. But no one was taking any chances, or placing toomuch confidence in the assurances of the dear Allies. That was plain!For, even as I had almost finished trotting up to the Dynastic Gate, Icame on a large body of Italian sailors, who had evidently justentered Peking, and who, marching with the quick step of theBersaglieri, were being led by C----, the lank Secretary of Legation, right up to the last line of gates. They were in an enormous hurry, and looked about them with eager eyes. C---- and some others calledout to me as I passed, and wanted to know whether it was true that theAmericans and the French had already got in, and had sacked half theplace, and whether fire had been set to the buildings. I answered withno compunction that it appeared to be so, and that the Russians andthe Japanese had burst in also through the north, and had actuallyfired on the others coming from the south, thinking they were Manchusoldiery. .. . I told them that they were too late; that every point ofimportance had already been seized. That set them moving faster thanever. It was truly comical and ridiculous. Beyond this there were moretroops of other nationalities that had just arrived, and were nowlooking about them in bewilderment. No wonder. With no orders and nomaps, and surrounded by these immense ruins, and still more immensesquares, they could not understand it at all. What confusion!

As I paused, debating what I should do, once again something elsespeedily attracted my attention. This time big groups of Americansoldiery, whom I had not observed before, were gathering like swarmsof flies at the door of one of the Chinese guard-houses, which linethe enclosing walls of the Palace. They were evidently much excited bysome discovery. Wishing to learn what it was, I dismounted and pushedin. Grovelling on the ground lay an elderly Chinese, whose peculiaraspect and general demeanour made it clear what he was. He was aPalace eunuch, left here by some strange luck. The man was in aparoxysm of fear, and, pointing into the guard-house behind him, hewas beseeching the soldiery with words and gestures not to treat himas those inside had been handled. Through the open door I could see aconfused mass of dead bodies--men who had been bayonetted to death inthe early morning--and from a rafter hung a miserable wretch, who haddestroyed himself in his agony to escape the terror of cold steel. Asthe details became clear, the scene was hideous. Never, indeed, shallI forget that horrid little vignette of war--those dozens upon dozensof curious soldier faces framed in slouch hats only halfunderstanding; the imploring eunuch on the ground, the huddled mass ofslaughtered men swimming in their blood in the shadow behind; thatthick smell of murder and sudden death rising and stinking in the hotair; and the last cruel note of that Chinese figure, with a shriek ofagony and fear petrified on the features, swinging in long, looseclothes from the rafter above. In the bright sunlight and the suddensilence which had come over everything, there was a peculiar menace inall this which chilled one. .. . 

Perhaps the eunuch had divined from my different dress that he wouldbe better understood by me than by these rough crowds of rank and filewho crushed him in; for, as I gazed, he had thrown himself at my feet, with muttered words and a constant begging and imploring. I noticedthen that the unfortunate man could not walk, could only drag himselflike a beaten dog. The reason soon transpired: both his legs had beenbroken by some mad jump which he must have essayed in his agony toescape. I quieted the man's fears as best I could, and, tearing asheet from a note-book, wrote a description of him, so that a fieldhospital would dress him. Then, anxious to learn something concretewith this vapour of haziness and confusion blinding us all, I beganquestioning him quickly about the Palace, the numbers of soldierywithin, the strength of the inner enclosures, and the residences ofthe Emperor and the Empress Dowager. The man answered me willinglyenough, but suddenly said it was all no use, that we were too late. The Emperor, the Empress Dowager, indeed, the whole Court, haddisappeared--had fled, was gone. .. . 

Gone!

On my life, I could scarcely believe my ears. After all these weeks ofconfusion and plotting, had the Empress Dowager and her whole Courtfled at the very last moment, and, by so doing, escaped allpossibility of vengeance? Was it really so? One might have known thatthis loose-jointed relief expedition could accomplish nothing, woulddo everything wrong; and still we were acting as if everything was inour hands. Then, suddenly, I fined down my questions, and imperativelyasked when the Court had fled; exactly at what hour and in whatdirection. 

At first I could get no reliable answer, but, pushing my questions andassuming a threatening attitude, the shattered eunuch at lengthcollapsed, and whiningly informed me that the flight had taken placeat nine o'clock exactly the previous night, and had been carried outby way of the Northern Gates of the city. They had left five hoursafter the relief had come in! I calculated quickly. That meant twentyhours' start at four miles an hour--for they would travel franticallynight and day--eighty miles! It was hopeless; they were safe throughthe first mountain-passes, and if they had soldiery with them, as wasmore than certain, these had most certainly been dropped at theformidable barriers which nature has interposed just forty milesbeyond Peking. The mountain-passes would protect them. There could beno vengeance exacted; no retribution could overtake the real authorsof this _debacle_. Nothing. It was a strange end. .. . 

Disconsolately I turned and rode back into the Legation lines, feelingas if an immense misfortune had come. Here I met finally some Japanesecavalry and some Cossacks. After being actually in Peking twenty-fourhours, they had at length formed junction with their Legations. Thecavalrymen were trotting up and down, and trying to discover their ownpeople. Neither did they understand it all. 

I communicated the news I had learned speedily enough to all people ofimportance whom I could find, told it to them all frantically; but itaroused no interest, even hardly any comment. Once or twice there wasa start of surprise, and then the old attitude of indifference. Aspecies of torpor seems to have come over everyone as a crushinganti-climax after the various climaxes of the terrible weeks. No onecares, excepting that the siege is finished. C----, of the BritishLegation, who has practically directed its policy for years (indeed, ever since it has been in the present hands), told me that when theBritish commander had come in, he had simply placed himself at thedisposal of the Legation, and had said that his orders were concernedonly with the relief. He was not to attempt anything else; to donothing more, absolutely nothing. .. . 

Later in the afternoon, at a Ministerial meeting, convened in haste, the Ministers decided that as they did not know what was going tohappen to them or what policy their governments proposed to adopt, inthe absence of instructions they could take no steps about anything. Of course, everyone of importance will be transferred elsewhere, andprobably be sent to South America, or the Balkan States, or possiblyAthens. The confirmation of the news that the Empress Dowager and theCourt had fled concerned them less than the dread possibilities whichthe field telegraphs bring. The wires have already been stretched intoPeking, and messages would have to come through soon. .. . 

That evening, as dusk fell, and I was idly watching some Englishsappers blowing an entrance from the canal street through the pinkPalace walls, so that a private right of way into this precious areacould be had right where the twin-cannon were fired at us for so manyweeks, a sound of a rude French song being chanted made me turn round. I saw then that it was a soldier of the Infanterie Coloniale in hisfaded blue suit of Nankeen, staggering along with his rifle slungacross his back and a big gunny-sack on his shoulder. He approached, singing lustily in a drunken sort of way, and reeling more and more, until, as he tried to step over the ruins of a brick barricade, he atlast tripped and fell heavily to the ground. The English sapperswatched him curiously for a few moments as he lay moving drunkenly onthe ground, unable to rise, but no one offered to help him, or evenstepped forward, until one soldier, who had been looking fixedly atsomething on the ground, said suddenly to his mates in a hoarsewhisper, "Silver! Silver!" He spoke in an extraordinary way. 

I stepped forward at these words to see. It was true. The sack hadbeen split open by the fall, and on the ground now scattered about laybig half-moons of silver-_sycee_, as it is called. The sappers tooka cautious look around, saw that all was quiet and only myself there;and then the six of them, seized with the same idea, went quietlyforward and plundered the fallen Frenchman of his loot as he lay. Eachman stuffed as many of those lumps as he could carry into his shirt ortunic. Then they helped the fallen drunkard to his feet, handed himthe fraction of his treasure which remained, and pushed him roughlyaway. The last I noticed of this curious scene was this marauderstaggering into the night, and calling faintly at intervals, as herealised his loss, "_Sacres voleurs! Sacres voleurs anglais_!" Then Imade off too. It was the first open looting I had seen. I shall alwaysremember absolutely how curiously it impressed me. It seemed verystrange. 

II

THE SACK

18th August, 1900. 

 * * * * *

After these events and the curious entry of our relieving troops, nothing came as a surprise to me. I can still remember as if it hadonly occurred ten seconds ago how, after witnessing those Englishsappers calmly strip that drunken French marauder of his gains, I cameback into the broken Legation Street to find that a whole company ofsavage-looking Indian troops--Baluchis they were--had found their wayin the dark into a compound filled with women-converts who had gonethrough the siege with us, and that these black soldiery were engaged, amidst cries and protests, in plucking from their victims' very headsany small silver hair-pins and ornaments which the women possessed. Trying to shield them as best she could was a lady missionary. Shewielded at intervals a thick stick, and tried to beat the maraudersaway. But these rough Indian soldiers, immense fellows, with greatheads of hair which escaped beneath their turbans, merely laughed, andcarelessly warding off this rain of impotent blows, went calmly onwith their trifling plundering. Some also tried to caress the womenand drag them away. .. . Then the lady missionary began to weep in aquiet and hopeless way, because she was really courageous and onlyentirely over-strung. At this a curious spasm of rage suddenly seizedme, and taking out my revolver, I pushed it into one fellow's face, and told him in plain English, which he did not understand, that if hedid not disgorge I would blow out his brains on the spot. I remember Ipushed my short barrel right into his face, and held it there grimly, with my finger on the trigger. That at least he understood. There wasa moment of suspense, during which I had ample time to realise that Iwould be bayonetted and shot to pieces by the others if I carried outmy threat. It was ugly; I did not like it. At the last moment, fortunately, my fellow relented, and throwing sullenly what he hadtaken to the ground, he shouldered his rifle and left the place. Theothers followed with mutterings and grumbles, and the women being nowsafe, began barricading the entrance of their house against othermarauders. They were green-white with fear. They feared these Indiantroops. .. . 

That same night, very late, a transport corps, composed of Japanesecoolies, in figured blue coats, belonging to some British regiment, came in hauling a multitude of little carts; and within a few minutesthese men were offering for sale hundreds of rolls of splendid silks, which they had gathered on their way through the city. You could getthem for nothing. Some one who had some gold in his pocket got anenormous mass for a hundred francs. The next day he was offered tentimes the amount he had paid. In the dark he had purchased pricelessfabrics from the Hangchow looms, which fetch anything in Europe. Greatquantities of things were offered for sale after that as quickly asthey could be dragged from haversacks and knapsacks. Everybody hadthings for sale. We heard then that everything had been looted by thetroops from the sea right up to Peking; that all the men had gotbadly out of hand in the Tientsin native city, which had been pickedas clean as a bone; and that hundreds of terrible outrages had come tolight. Every village on the line of march from Tientsin had beentreated in the same way. Perhaps it was because there had been solittle fighting that there had been so much looting. 

The very next morning a decision was arrived at to send away allnon-combatants in the Legation lines as quickly as possible from suchscenes--to let them breathe an air uncontaminated by such ruin anddevastation and rotting corpses--to escape from this cursed bondage ofbrick lines. There would be a caravan formed down to Tungchow, whichis fifteen miles away, and then river transport. To provideconveyances for these fifteen miles of road, people would have tosally forth and help themselves; near the Legations there wasabsolutely nothing left. We must hustle for ourselves. .. . The same menwho have done all the work would have to do this. 

I shall never forget the renewed sense of freedom when I went out thenext morning with my men and some others I picked up, this time boldlystriking into the rich quarter in the eastern suburbs of the Tartarcity and leaving the garrisoned area far behind. It was something toride out without having to take cover at every turning. .. . The firstpart of our route was the same as that of my scouting expedition madeso few days before. But this time we went forward so quickly to themain streets beyond the white ruins of the Austrian Legation that itseemed incredible that we should have wasted so much time covering theground before. That shows what danger means. I alone was mounted, riding the old pony I had commandeered the day before; my men were onfoot and ran pantingly alongside. We were so keen!

For half a mile or so we met occasional detachments of Europeantroops, an odd enough _pot-pourri_ of armed men such as few peopleever witness. They made a curious picture, did this soldiery in thedeserted streets, for every detachment was loaded with pickings fromChinese houses, and some German mounted infantry, in addition to thegreat bundles strapped to their saddles, were driving in front of thema mixed herd of cattle, sheep and extra ponies which they hadcollected on the way. The men were in excellent humour, and jested andcursed as they hastened along, and in a thick cloud of dust raised byall these hoofs they finally disappeared round a corner. It was onlywhen they were gone that I realised how silent and deserted thestreets had become. Not a soul afoot, not a door ajar, not adog--nothing. It might have been a city of the dead. After all theroar of rifle and cannon which had dulled the hearing of one's earsfor so many days there was something awesome, unearthly anddisconcerting in this terrified silence. What had happened to all theinhabitants?

I had ridden forward slowly for a quarter of an hour or so, glancingkeenly at the barred entrances which frowned on the great street, whensuddenly I missed my men. My pony had carried me along the raisedhighway--the riding and driving road, which is separated from thesidewalks by huge open drains. My men had been across these drains, keeping close to the houses so that they could soon discover some signof life. Then they had disappeared. That is all I could remember. 

I rode back, rather alarmed and shouting lustily. My voice raisedechoes in the deserted thoroughfare, which brought vague flickers offaces to unexpected chinks and cracks in the doors, telling me thatthis desert of a city was really inhabited by a race madepanic-striken prisoners in their own houses by the sudden entry ofavenging European troops. There were really hosts of people watchingand listening in fear, and ready to flee over back walls as soon asany danger became evident. That explained to me a great deal. I beganto understand. Then suddenly, as I looked, there were several rifleshots, a scuffle and some shouting, and as I galloped back in a sweatof apprehension I saw one of my men emerge from the huge_porte-cochere_ of a native inn mounted on a black mule. My men werecoolly at work. They were providing themselves with a necessaryconvenience for moving about freely over the immense distances. In thecourtyard of the inn two dead men lay, one with his head half blownoff, the second with a gaping wound in his chest. My remainingservants were harnessing mules to carts, and each, in addition, had apony, ready saddled to receive him, tied to an iron ring in the wall. I angrily questioned them about the shots, and pointed to the ghastlyremains on the ground; but they, nothing abashed, as angrily answeredme, saying that the men had resisted and had to be killed. Then, as Iwas not satisfied, and continued muttering at them and fiercelythreatening punishment, one of them went to the door of a gate-house, and flinging it back, bade me look in. That was a sight! It was fullof great masses of arms and all sorts of soldiers' and Boxers'clothing; and tied up in bundles of blue cloth were stacks of booty, consisting of furs and silks, all made ready to be carried away. Thiswas evidently one of the many district headquarters which the Boxershad established everywhere. My men had known it, because these thingsbecome speedily known to natives. They had acted. After all, this wasa vengeance which was overtaking everybody. What could I do?. .. 

I said nothing then, and somewhat gloomily watched them proceed. Withutmost coolness they finished harnessing the carts; drove them withcurses to a point near the gate-house, and silently loaded all thosebundles of booty into them, strapping the swords and rifles on instacks behind. It was evidently to be a clean sweep, with nothingleft. Then, when they had made everything ready, one of themdisappeared for a short time into a back courtyard, and after somefresh scuffling, reappeared, driving in front of him three men in tornclothing and with dishevelled hair, who had been hiding all the while, and were trembling like aspen leaves now that they had been caught. Mymen, without undue explanations, told them that they had to drive, oneto each cart, and that if one tried to escape all would be shot down. With protestations, the captives swore that they would obey; only letthem escape with their lives; they were innocent. .. . Then in a body wesallied forth, this time a fully-equipped and well-mounted body ofmarauders. It was a fate from which it was impossible to escape--mymen had such decision left when every person in authority was alreadydrifting. .. . 

Fitted out in this wise, we now rattled along the streets with fasterspeed, and the clanking cart-wheels, awaking louder and louder echoeswhich sounded curiously indiscreet in these deserted streets, madeheads bob from doorways and windows with greater and greaterfrequency. Down in the side alleys, now that we were a mile or twoaway from our lines, people might be even seen standing in frightenedgroups, as if debating what was going to happen; these melted silentlyaway as soon as we were spied. But finding that they were disregarded, and that no rifles cracked off at them as they half expected, forthwith the groups formed again, and men even came out into the mainstreet and followed us a little way, calling half-heartedly to thedrivers to know if there was any news. .. . The terrible quiet which hadspread over the city after the Allies had burst in from two or threequarters seemed indeed inexplicable; such troops as had passed hadgone hurriedly westwards towards the Palace. This quarter couldscarcely have been touched. .. . 

Our little cavalcade was clattering along midst these strangesurroundings, when my attention was attracted by the similarity of theoccupation which now appeared to be engaging numbers of people on theside streets. The occupation was plainly a doubtful one, since as soonas we were seen everyone fled indoors. All had been standing scrapingaway at the door-posts with any instruments which came handy; and onecould hear this scratching and screeching distinctly in the distanceas one approached. It was extraordinary. Determined to solve this newmystery, on an inspiration I suddenly drove my old pony full tilt upan alleyway before the rest of my men had come in view, and, dashingquickly forward, secured one old man before he could escape. Onceagain I understood: all these people had been scraping off littlediamond-shaped pieces of red paper pasted on their door-posts; and onthese papers were written a number of characters, which proclaimed theadherence of all the inmates to the tenets of the Boxers. In theirfew weeks' reign, this Chinese sansculottism had succeeded in imposingits will on all. Everyone was implicated; the whole city had been intheir hands; it had been an enormous plot. .. . 

Inside the house I had singled out, we found only old women and youngboys--the rest had all fled. Spread on the ground were pieces of whitecloth on which flags were being rudely fashioned--Japanese, English, French and some others. They were changing their colours, all thesepeople, as fast as they could--that is what they were doing; andfarther on, as we came to more remote quarters, we found theseprotecting insignia already flying boldly from every house. Everybodywished to be friends. But my men exhorted me to proceed quickly and toescape from these districts, which, they alleged, were still full ofBoxers and disbanded soldiery; and yielding to their entreaties, weagain dashed onwards quicker and quicker. For half an hour and more wehad, indeed, lost sight of every friendly face. 

The succession of streets we passed was endless. There were nothingbut these deserted main thorough-fares, and the scuttling people onthe side alleys, and in absolute silence we reached an immense streetrunning due north and south. To my surprise, although everything wasnow quite quiet, dead Chinese soldiers lay around here in somenumbers. There were both infantry and cavalry flung headlong on theground as they had fled. One big fellow, carrying a banner, had beentoppled over, pony and all, as he rode away, and now lay inpicturesque confusion, half thrown down the steep slope of the raiseddriving road, with his tragedy painted clearly as a picture. In thebright sunshine, with all absolutely quiet and peaceful around, itseemed impossible that these men should have met with a violent deathsuch a short while ago amid a roar of sound. It was funny, curious, inexplicable. .. . For my men, however, there were no such thoughts;they climbed off their ponies, and, whipping out knives or bayonets, they slit the bandoliers and pouches from every dead soldier and threwthem into the carts. They had become in this short time goodcampaigners; you can never have too much ammunition. 

The big Shantung recruit, whom I had come across so oddly only threedays before, was now once again plainly excited and smelled quarry. Iremembered, then, that there was nothing very strange in the decisiveactions of all my followers; they were being led by this man and toldexactly what to do. He had, after all, been outside all the time, andknew what had been going on and where now to strike hard! Quickly, without speaking a word, he pushed ahead, and arriving at the biggates of another inn, loudly called on some one inside to open. Hecould not have got any very satisfactory answer, for the next thing Isaw was that he had sprung like lightning from his stolen pony, hadthrown his rifle to the ground, and was attacking a latticed windowwith an old bayonet he had been carrying in his hand. With half adozen furious blows he sent the woodwork into splinters, and, springing up with a lithe, tiger-like jump, he clambered through thegap, big man as he was, with surprising agility. Then there was a deadsilence for a few seconds and we waited in suspense. But presentlyoaths and protests came from far back and drew nearer and nearer, until I knew that the some one who had refused to answer had been dulysecured. The gates themselves were finally flung open, and I saw thatan oldish man of immense stature had been driven to do this work--aman who, so far from being afraid, was only held in check by a loadedrevolver being kept steadily against his back. The Shantung man's facehad become devilish with rage, and I could see that he was slowlyworking himself up into that Chinese frenzy which is such madness andbodes no good to any one. I was at a loss to understand this scene. 

Our captured carts were driven in and the gates securely shut; andthen, driving his captive still in front of him, my man led us, with arapidity which showed that he knew every inch of his ground, to a bigbuilding at the side. Then it was my turn to understand and to stare. Within the building a big altar had been clumsily made of woodenboards and draped with blood-red cloth; and lining the wall behind itwas a row of hideously-painted wooden Buddhas. There were sticks ofincense, too, with inscriptions written in the same manner as those wehad seen being scraped so feverishly from the door-posts a few minutesago. Red sashes and rusty swords lay on the ground also. Here therecould be absolutely no mistake; it was a headquarters of that evilcult which had brought such ruin and destruction in its train. TheBoxers had been in full force here. 

The Shantung man, for reasons I could not yet unravel and did not careto learn, had become absolutely livid with rage now, and the others, who were all Catholics, shared his fury. They said that here convertshad been tortured to death--killed by being slit into small pieces andthen burned. Everybody knew it. With spasmodic gestures they called onthe captive to fling to the ground the whole altar, to smash his idolsinto a thousand pieces, to destroy everything. But the man, resoluteeven in captivity, sullenly refused. Then, with a movement ofuncontrollable rage, one man seized a long pole, and in a dozen blowshad broken everything to atoms. Idols, red cloth, incense sticks, bowls of sacrificial rice and swords lay in a shapeless heap. And withugly kicks my men ground the ruin into yet smaller pieces. Somehow itmade me wince. It was a brutal sight; to treat gods, even if they befalse, in this wise. .. . 

As I looked and wondered, scarcely daring to interfere, the Shantungman had pushed his face, after the native manner, close into that ofhis enemy and was muttering taunts at him, which were hissed like thefury of a snake in anger. This could not last--my man was carrying ittoo far. It was so. With a cry his victim suddenly closed on him, seized him insanely by the throat and hair, tried to tear him to theground. I remember I had just a vision of those brown wrestling bodieshalf-bared by the fury of their clutches, and I could hear the quicklydrawn pants which came at a supreme moment, when there was a sharpreport, which sounded a little muffled, a piece of plaster flew out ofthe wall behind the two, and some biting smoke bit one's nostrils. Before I realised what had been done, the giant Boxer was staggeringback; then he tottered and fell on his knees, talking strangely tohimself, with his voice sliding up and down as if it now refusedcontrol. Some blood welled up to his lips and trickled out; he shook abit, and then he crashed finally down. There he lay among the ruins ofhis faith--dead, stone-dead, killed outright. The Shantung man stoodover him with a smoking revolver in his hand. I remembered then thathe had never taken his hand from the weapon. He had been waiting forthis--it was an old score, properly paid. .. . 

I had had enough, however, of this mode of settling up under cover ofmy protection, and angrily I intimated that if there was any moreshooting I should draw too, and pistol every man. I was proceeding toadd to these remarks, and was even becoming eloquent as my righteousfeelings welled up, when a thunder of blows suddenly resounded on theouter gates, and made me realise with a start that this was no placefor abstract morality. Strayed so far from safety, we had taken ourlives into our own hands; at any moment we might have to fight oncemore desperately against superior numbers. Perhaps in the end we wouldtotter over in the same way as the unfortunate who had strayed acrossour path. .. . Indeed, it was no time for morality. .. . 

The thunder on the gates continued, and then with a crash they cameopen suddenly, and a party of French soldiers, with fixed bayonets andtheir uniforms in great disorder, rushed in on us. They did not see meat first, and, charging down on our captured carters, merely yelledviolently to them, "_Rendez-vous! Rendez-vous!_" Before we could moveor disclose ourselves, they had seized some of the carts and weremaking preparations to drive them off without a second's delay. Butthen I made up my mind in a flash, too, and becoming desperate, Ithrew down the gauntlet. The contagion had caught me. Running at themwith my drawn revolver, I, too, shouted, "_Rendez-vous! Rendez-vous!_"and with my men following me, we interposed ourselves between themarauders and their only line of retreat. There was no time forthinking or for explanations; somebody would have to give way or elsethere would be shooting. In a second, a fresh desperate situation hadarisen. 

The marauders, astonished at my sudden appearance and the manner inwhich their _razzia_ had been interrupted, stood debating in loudvoices what they should do, and calling me names. Twice they turned asif they would shoot me down; then one of them made up the minds of theothers by declaring that their object was not to fight, but topillage--these few carts did not matter. With lowering faces theyspeedily withdrew, cursing me with calm insolence as they reached thegates. Outside we saw that they had a number of other carts and mules, all loaded up with huge bundles; and reeling round these capturedthings were other drunken soldiers, whose disordered clothing andleering faces proclaimed that they had given themselves solely up tothe wildest orgies. To-day there would be no quarter. .. . 

We waited until the clamour of these men had died away in thedistance, and then, with a strange double grin, the big Shantung manturned silently back into an inner courtyard, and pointed me outanother building. I did not understand, for the very stables wereempty and deserted here, as if everything had been already looted orcarried away into safety. There appeared to be not a cart, not a pieceof harness, not a stick of furniture, nothing left at all. The bigShantung man still grinned, however, and quickly made for the buildinghe had pointed out. The door was open, as if there was nothing toconceal, and only enormous bins made of bamboo matting half blockedthe entrance. But with a few rough efforts my men sent these soonflying; then there was a mighty stamping and neighing of alarm, and asI looked in I laughed from sheer surprise. The house was full ofponies, mules, and even donkeys, which had been driven in and tetheredtogether tightly behind barricades of tables and chairs. Now seeingus, they stood there all eyes and ears, and with prolonged whinniesand gruntings plainly welcomed this diversion. With glee we drove themout and counted them up--ten more animals!

It was with disgust, however, that I remembered that there was neitherharness nor carts; but to my surprise, now that the animals had beendiscovered, my men were running busily around searching every likelyhiding-place of the huge straggling courtyards. Like rats, they raninto every corner, turned over everything, pulled up loose floorings, and presently the body of a cart was found hidden in a loft in themost cunning way. But it was only the body of a cart; there were nowheels. And yet the wheels could not be far off. Five more minutes'search had discovered them suspended down a well, under a bucket, which itself contained a mass of harness; and then in every impossibleplace we discovered the inn property cleverly stored away. In the end, we had all the animals hitched up, and the carts themselves full offodder. Then, by employing the same tactics as before, just outsidedrivers were discovered and induced to follow us, and now, with aheavy caravan to protect against all comers, we sallied forth. Thistime we would have our work cut out. 

An hour and more had elapsed since we had been on the open streets, and it being near midday, and everything still quiet, we weresurprised to see people of the lower classes moving cautiously abouton the main streets, but disappearing quickly at the mere sight ofother people whose business they could not divine. That, too, wassoon explained; for, seeing one rapscallion trying to run away with asack over his back, we discharged a rifle at him. Straightway the manstopped running, fell on his knees, and whiningly said that he hadbeen permitted to take what he was carrying by honourable foreignsoldiery whom he had been allowed to assist. The bundle contained onlysilks and clothes; with a kick we let him go. Plainly the plot wasthickening on all sides, and it was becoming more and more dangerousto be abroad. Seized with a new thought, I stopped the whole caravan, and giving orders to that effect, we soon had every driver we had sosummarily impressed securely strapped to his cart with heavy rope. Atleast, if we had to cut our way back I had secured that our cartscould not be stampeded with ease. The drivers would make them go on;it would be easier to run forward than to turn back. 

Then, as if we realised the danger of the road, we began drivingfrantically. We wished to carry the carts into safety. It was not longbefore we saw in the distance many groups of people clustering round abig building surrounded by high walls. That made me nervous, for thegroups formed and dissolved continually, as if they were in doubt, andseeking to gain something which was bent on resisting. But no soonerhad they seen this than my men began laughing coarsely, and exclaimedin the vernacular that it was a pawn-shop which the common people weretrying to loot. Of course, it was certain that every pawn-shop wouldgo sooner or later; but the sight of an actual attack in progressseemed strange while the populace was still so terror-stricken. To ourfurther surprise, on coming up we found that a number of marauders andstragglers belonging to a variety of European corps had been haltedby this sight; and as we drew nearer we found a private of the FrenchInfanterie Coloniale groaning on the ground, with a ghastly wound inhis leg. No one was attending to him--they were too busy with theirown business, and had we not tied him roughly with some cloth andrope, he might have lain there bleeding to death. We carried the manto the carts and decided we would take him to safety. But as we madepreparations to start a warning shout in French bade us not to pass infront of the pawn-shop gates, and, looking up, I found that severalother French soldiers, together with some Indians and Annamites, hadclimbed the roofs of adjacent houses, and with their rifles thrown outin front of them, were attempting to get a shot at people inside. Theplace was evidently securely held and refused to surrender. Groupedall round, and armed with choppers, bars of iron and long poles, thecrowd of native rapscallions waited in a grim silence for the_denouement_. It was an extraordinary scene. Everything and everyonewas so silent. I decided to stop and see it through. Such things neverhappen twice in a lifetime. 

A shot fired from the gate at an incautious man, who darted across thestreet, showed that the defenders were both vigilant and desperate, and knew what to expect at the hands of the foreign soldiery and thepopulace once they poured in. Spurred by this sound, the Frenchsoldiers on the roofs pushed down cautiously nearer and nearer totheir prey; but presently, when I thought that they had almost wontheir way, a shower of bricks and heavy stones was sent at them byunseen hands with such savageness and skill that another man wasplaced _hors-de-combat, _ and came down groaning with his head split. His, however, was only a scalp wound, and, discovering that a bandageleft him practically none the worse, he took his place with savagecurses at a corner just beyond the main gate, fixing his bayonet ingrim preparation for the end. Decidedly there would be no quarter whenthat end came. 

But there appeared to be, nevertheless, no means of bringing about thedesired climax. The defenders showed their alertness by occasionalshots that grated harshly on the still air, and the attack could makeno progress. I wondered what would happen. Yet it did not last long, for Providence was at work. Two Cossacks came cantering along thestreet, bearing some message from a Russian command; and althoughwarning shouts were sent at them, too, as they approached, they paidno heed, but rode carelessly by. As they came abreast of the main gatea sudden volley, which made their mounts swerve so badly that lessadept horsemen would have been flung heavily to the ground, greetedthem and sent them careering wildly for a few yards. But here were menwho understood this kind of warfare. First, it is true, they were alittle angry as they pulled up, unslung their carbines and shot homecartridges as if they would act like the rest. .. . But then, when theysaw how things were, they grinned in some delight, and finallydismounting and driving their beasts with shouts off the road, theyprepared to join the fray. With renewed interest I watched them go towork. 

A little inspection showed the newcomers that the pawn-shop was toodifficult to capture by direct assault unless special means wereadopted, for such places being constructed with a view to resistingthe attacks of robbers even in peaceful times, are nearly alwayslittle citadels in themselves. They are the people's banks. For sometime the two new arrivals walked stealthily around, with theircarbines in their hands, peering here and there, and trying to find aweak spot. Then one man said something to the other, and theydisappeared into a neighbouring house, only to emerge almostimmediately with some bundles of straw and some wood. To their mindsit was evidently the only thing to be done; they were going to setfire! Before there was time to protest, the Cossacks had piled theirfuel against an angle of the gate-house, just where they could not beshot at, and with a puff the whole thing was soon ablaze. Thescattered groups of native rapscallions on the street, when they sawwhat had been done, gave a subdued howl of despair, and cried aloudthat the whole block of buildings would catch fire, and thateverything in them would be destroyed. These confident looters hadalready imagined that the pawn-shop was theirs to dispose of--afterthe honourable foreign soldiery had had their fill!

The Cossacks, however, were men of many ideas, and paid not theslightest attention to all this tumult beyond striking two or three ofthe nearest men. They watched the blaze with cunning little eyes, andas the short flames shot across the gate, driven by the wind, andraised blinding clouds of smoke, one of them said it was all right andthat we would be soon inside. On the roofs the French soldiers andtheir companions lay silently watching in amazement the antics of thetwo dismounted horsemen, and from the shouts and curses which now camefrom the pawn-shop compound itself, it was plain that this method ofattack would be productive of some result. It was becoming more andmore interesting. 

My attention was distracted for an instant by seeing one of theCossacks climb up beside two French soldiers and explain to themgravely, with a violent pantomime of his hands, what they should do ina moment or two. When I turned, it was to find that the second haddriven with boot-kicks and some swinging blows from his loaded carbinea number of the street people towards some of those long poles whichcan always be found stacked on the Peking main streets. My own men, understanding now what was to be done, ran forward, too, to help, andin the twinkling of an eye two long poles had been borne forward andlaid in position across the highway. In spite of all modern progress, much the same ways of attack have still to be adopted in siege work. Then, with some further pantomine explaining how it would beimpossible to see or hurt them under cover of that smoke, the Cossacksinduced the crowd to raise the poles again. This time everybody'sblood was up, and, urging one another on with short staccato shouts, dozens of willing men, stripped to the waist, jumped forward, and thetimbers were driven with a tremendous impetus against the gates. Asthey crashed against the wood, and half splintered the stoutentrances, a succession of shots rang out from the roofs, and I sawthe French marauders sliding rapidly down and fall out of sight intothe compound. The defence had been broken down--at least, at thispoint. It seemed quite over. 

It was the work of a moment to hack the gates aside, and through thechoking fumes and charred remains the whole infuriated crowd nowpoured. The little blaze, having met with much brick and stone, wassmouldering out, and so long as it was not kindled anew there was nodanger of the fire spreading. 

Like a rush of muddy waters, the sweating, brown-backed men, now madwith a lust for pillage, tore through the first courtyard. I was bornalong with them perforce like a piece of flotsam on a ragingflood-tide; there was no turning back. Besides, such things do nothappen every day. .. . 

The Frenchmen and their companions had already disappeared inside, andon the ground lay two of the pawn-shop men, dead or dying, swimmingsilently in their own blood. Beyond this there was a first hall, emptyand devoid of furniture, excepting for immensely long wooden counters;and as I jumped through to the warehouses beyond, I saw dimly in thedarkened room those dozens of city rapscallions whom we had unleashedhurl themselves on to the counters and literally tear them to pieces. They knew! Thousands of strings of cash were laid bare by this action, and with the quickness of lightning hundreds of furious hands tore andsnatched, while hot voices smote the air in snarls and gasps. Theywanted this money--would lose their lives for it. In an instant thepawn-shop hall had been turned into a sulphurous saturnalia horrid towitness. That gave you a grim idea of mob violence. I rushed to escapeit. .. . 

In the warehouses beyond I found the Frenchmen and the first Cossack, who had directed the carrying of the place by assault, breaking openwith rude jests chests and boxes, and flinging to the ground thecontents of countless shelves. They cared nothing for the things theyfound; they were hunting for treasure. With curses as theirdisappointment deepened, and always hurling more and more shelves andcupboards to the ground, they soon reduced room after room to aconfusion such as I have never before witnessed. Rich silks and costlyfurs, boxes of trinkets, embroideries, women's head-dresses, andhundreds of other things were flung to the ground and trampled underfoot into shapeless masses in a few moments, raising a choking dustwhich cut one's breathing. They wanted only treasure, these men, goldif possible, something which possessed an instant value forthem--something whose very touch spelled fortune. Nothing else. Insome amazement I watched this frantic scene. From the outer courtyardscame the same roar of excitement as the street crowd fought with oneanother for possession of all that wealth in cash; separated from oneanother by only a few yards, European marauders and Chinese vagabonds, I reflected, were acting in much the same way. I followed theFrenchmen and their companions into the last great rooms, alldust-laden and filled with boxes without number, which were carefullyticketed and stacked one upon another. Some were prized open withbayonets; some had their pigskin covers beaten through by butt-endblows; but whatever their treatment, there were always the same fursand silks. There was no treasure. 

My men had now fought their way through the outer crowd, and rapidlyflinging out coat after coat, suggested that sables were at leastworth the taking and the keeping. They selected two or three score ofthese coats of precious skins, beautiful long Chinese robes reachingto the feet, and tumbling them into emptied trunks, we went out assoon as possible. We had had enough. The explanation of why the crowdhad not rushed through was in front of us. The remaining Cossack hadseated himself, carbine in hand, on the stone ledge at the entrance tothe inner courtyards and held everyone in check; just beyond hundredsand hundreds of men stripped to the waist, glistening in their sweatand trembling in their excitement, were waiting for the signal whichwould let them go. I noticed that now there were old women, too. Thewhole quarter was coming as fast as it could. .. . 

The Cossack grinned when he saw me appear, and looked with a shrug ofhis shoulders at the sables. To him these were not priceless. Then heexplained his unconcerned attitude in a single gesture. He pushed ahand down into his rough riding boots and pulled out one of thoseChinese gold bars which look for all the world like the conventionalyellow finger-biscuits which one eats with ice-cream. The rascal hadelsewhere come across some rich preserve and had his feet loaded withgold--for he pulled out other bars to show me--and he did not care forthis petty pilfering. Then the Frenchmen began coming out, with theAnnamites and the Indians, each man with a bundle on his back, and theCossack, esteeming his watch ended, got up and stepped back. Onceagain, like bloodhounds, the crowd rushed in, an endless stream ofmen, women, and even children, all summoned by the news that thepawn-shop, which was their natural enemy, had fallen. They roared pastus, striking and tearing at one another with insane gestures as ifeach one feared that he would be too late. Inside the scene must havebaffled description, for a clamour soon rose which showed that it wasa battle to the death to secure loot at any price. Shrill cries andawful groans rose high above the storm of sound, as the desperadoes ofthe city, who were mixed with the more innocent common people, struckout with choppers and bar iron and mercilessly felled to the groundall who stood in their way. With conflicting feelings we struggledoutside, and as I mounted my pony, a wretched man covered with bloodrushed forward, and flinging himself at my feet, cried to me sobbinglyto save him. He was the last of the pawn-shop defenders and wasbleeding in a dozen places. Him, too, we roughly tied up and saved, and telling him to mount a cart and to lie concealed inside, at lastwe moved on again. We were gathering odd cargo. 

The day was now waning, for the time had flown swiftly with suchstrange scenes, and people began to slink out from side alleys moreand more frequently, as if they had been waiting for this dusk. Several times we passed bands of men armed with swords andknives--Boxers, without a doubt--who calmly watched us approach, as ifthey were debating whether they should attack us or not. Once, too, aroll of musketry suddenly rang out sharp and clear but a few hundredfeet away from the high road, only to be succeeded by an icysilence--more speaking than any sound. We did not dare to stray awayto inquire what it might be; the high road was our only safety. Eventhat was doubtful. Curious isolated encounters were taking place allover the vast city of Peking; it was now everyone for himself, andnot even the devil taking care of the hindmost. It was no place forinnocents. 

At last, by vigorous riding and driving, which caused a great clatterand drew forth many leering faces from darkened doorways, we debouchedinto that long main street down which I had shot so few days before insuch an agony of doubt. Hurrying homeward in the same direction, wenow met bands of our siege converts in groups of forty and fiftystrong. These men, who had come so near to starving during the siege, were having their own revenge. They had sallied forth with such armsas they could lay their hands on, and had been plundering all daywithin easy reach of the Legations. They had done what they could, andhad gathered every manner of thing in which they stood most in need. Each man had immense bundles tied to his back--it was the revenge forall they had suffered. They had given no quarter either, and beforemany more hours had gone by they would have made up for those longweeks. .. . We soon left these groups behind, and with the wholecavalcade now going at a hand-gallop, it dawned on our companions andbeasts which we had so curiously gathered during the day that we werenearing our destination. 

But here the roadway was absolutely deserted, and in the dusk Irealised that had we been farther from home we would almost certainlybe ambuscaded by some of the many ruffians Boxerism had unloosed onthe city. Here was a sort of neutral belt. At every turning I halfexpected a volley to greet us; at every door-creak I thought therewould be some rush of armed men which would have been impossible forus to meet without losing half the convoy. Yet these fancies were notjustified, for to my immense surprise, at a cross-road I saw numbersof women in their curious Manchu head-dress standing at a big gateway, all dressed in their best clothes. As we passed they caught sight ofme, and, nothing abashed, began immediately calling to me and wavingwith their arms. This was extraordinary and unlocked for. At first Ithought that they were only courtesans, who had been deprived for solong of all custom that they had been rendered desperate, and wereseeking to inveigle me _faute de mieux_; but remembering that suchwomen are confined to the outer city, I reined in my mount, haltedthe whole caravan, and went slowly towards them, half fearing, Iconfess, some ruse. Yet the women greeted me with fresh cries andwords. There were a full dozen of them of the best class, and theyexplained to me that they had been left, absolutely abandoned, twonights before by all the men of the household, who, fearing the worstand hearing that the way out through the north of the city was stillopen, had seized all the draft and riding animals and ridden rapidlyaway, saying that the women would be spared by the foreign soldiery, but that probably every man of rank would be killed. No one hadmolested them so far, because this house lay so close to the foreigntroops, but with so many armed men on the streets, and with thepillaging and the murder that was going on, they did not know how longthey would be spared. They told me this quickly in gasps. I paused indoubt to know what to answer; it was everyone for himself, and thedevil not even looking after the hindmost, as I have just said. Butwomen. .. . I must propose something. 

They saw my hesitation, and women-like, renewed their pleading inchorus. I noticed, also, that two or three of the older ones groupedthemselves close together, and, putting down their heads, beganrapidly discussing in loud whispers, which showed their trepidation. Then they called a tall, splendidly built woman, and, telling hersomething in an undertone, pushed her forward towards me. Unabashed, she advanced on me with a firm step, and laying a white-skinnedhand--for the Manchus can be very white--on my arm, she begged me tostop here myself--to make this my house for the time being--to do as Ipleased with all of them. .. . After all those weeks of privation, thatconstant rifle-fire, that stench of earth-soiled men, this woman soclose seemed strange. .. . I answered, in greater confusion, that Icould not yet say whether it was possible for me to stay so far away;that there might be trouble; that I would see and let them know beforethe night was far advanced. .. . 

Not wholly satisfied and half doubting, they let me draw off withtheir pleadings renewed. Then, as I thought something might happenbefore I could let them know, I gave them two rifles from the store wehad collected, and telling them to bar and bolt their gate, showedthem how a shot or two would probably drive off an attack. Weclattered on and lost them in the gloom. .. . 

It was almost dark as we re-entered the ruined Legation lines andpicked our way slowly though the _debris_ which still stood stacked onthe streets. Fatigue parties of many corps were finishing their workof attempting to restore some order and cleanliness, and clouds ofmurky dust hung heavily in the air. All round these narrow streetsthere was an atmosphere of exhaustion and disorder, crushed on top ofone another, which oppressed one so much after the open streets, thatan immense nostalgia suddenly swept over me. We had had too much ofit; I was tired and weary of it all. It was mean and miserable afterthe great anti-climax. It was like coming back to a soiled dungeon. 

We picked our way right through where two days before no vehiclescould have passed, and I stabled all the animals and carts, and handedthem over to where they were needed. Then I ordered that our capturedthings, our weapons, and my few last belongings should be loaded intoone remaining cart, and ordering my men to follow, without a word ofexplanation I started off again. I had made up my mind. 

We passed rapidly enough out and again sped in the blackening nightdown the long street just as we had returned. Almost too soon wereached that great gate on the corner to find it barred and bolted. Somehow my heart sank within me at this; was it too late?

But there were cries and a confusion of voices. Somebody peeredthrough. Then there was delight. The gate was unbarred by weak women'shands, and the soft Manchu voice which had first begged me to stop wasspeaking to me again. .. . 

Inside I found the courtyards and the lines of rooms which frontedeach square were immense and furnished with richly carved woodwork; itwas a rich house, and there was a profusion of everything which couldbe wanted--only no men! We securely bolted and barred the main gate, and for safety loopholed a little, because that is an art in which wehad become adepts. Then, with candles murkily shedding their light, Iexplored every nook and corner to guard against surprise, always withthat soft voice explaining to me. It was very quiet and soft with thatatmosphere around; it was like a narcotic when a roar of fever stillhangs in one's ears. I became more and more content. After all, we hadbecome abnormals; a shade more or less could make no difference. .. . That night was a pleasant dream. .. . 

III

THE SACK CONTINUES

August, 1900. 

 * * * * *

To rediscover the ease and luxury of lying down, not brute-like, butman-like, seemed to me an immense thing. I had had my first night'ssleep on a bed for nearly three months, and I wished never to riseagain. I wished to be immensely lazy for a long period--not to have tomove or think or act. But that could not be. All sorts of marauderswere sweeping the city and working their wills in a hundred differentways. Half a dozen times, as soon as daylight had come, shots had beenfired through my gateway. European soldiery, who had broken away fromtheir corps, and native vagabonds and disguised Boxers, who had hiddenpanic-stricken during the first hours after the relief, were nowprowling about armed from head to foot. The vast city, which had beengiven over for weeks to mad disorders and insane Boxerism, was in areceptive condition for this final climax. There was no semblance ofauthority left; with troops of many rival nationalities always pouringin, and a nominal state of war still existing, with the possibility ofa Chinese counter-advance taking place, how could there be?. .. Therewas nothing left to restrain anybody. .. . 

I thought of these things lying at my ease, and debated how long Icould stay in that unconcerned attitude. It was not long. For as Ilay, there was a thunder of blows somewhere near, and then a crackleof shots, whose echoes smote so clean that I knew that firearms werepointed in the direction of this house. I jumped up without delay. Iwas not a minute too soon, for as I seized my rifle, one of my men ranin and shouted to me that foreign cavalrymen had burst in, shooting inthe air, and were now driving out all the animals and looting all thecarts as well. Nothing could be done unless I lent my leadership. 

Hastily I ran out, feeding a cartridge into my rifle-chamber as Irushed. This time I was determined to give a lesson and pay back inthe same coin. The marauders were Cossacks again. 

There were only four of them, however, and when they caught sight ofme they tried to stampede my mob and bolt ingloriously with them. Butwe were too quick. I gave the first man's mount my first cartridge ina fast shot, which took the animal well behind the shoulder andbrought the rider instantly down in a heap to the ground. That mixedthem up so that before they could extricate themselves they were allcovered with our rifles and the gates tight shut. Then we calmlydragged the men off their ponies and kept them in suspense for manyminutes, debating aloud what to do. Finally we let them go after someharsh threatening. The man who had lost his mount, nothing abashed, swung himself coolly up behind a comrade, with his saddle and bridleon his arm, without a comment. And as soon as they were in the openstreet they galloped fast away, as if they feared we would shoot themdown from behind. That showed what was going on elsewhere. .. . 

I knew now what to expect unless we made very ready, for surely asharp revenge attack would come as soon as it was dark. So grimly weset to work, with a return of-our old fighting feelings, and rapidlyfortified the main gate against all cavalry raids. We dug a broad moatbehind the gate, and threw up a respectable barricade with the earthwe had gained. Then we brought some timbers and built them in on topwith the aid of bricks and stones, so as to have a line of loopholesconverging on the entrance. We trained some of the many rifles we hadpicked up in the same direction, and strapped them into position, justas the Chinese commands had done all along their barricades during thesiege. In this way we made it so that in a few seconds a dozen of theenemy could be brought to the ground without the defending forceshowing a finger. That would be enough for any Cossacks. .. . 

Before midday we had added a couple of lookout posts to the roofs, andthen, secure in this new-found strength, I determined to go abroadonce more to collect supplies and food. That decision was materiallyhelped by an incident which showed that everyone was acting and thatit was the only way. As we cautiously opened our main gate andprepared to sally out, a cart came by, accompanied by several men fromthe Legations on horseback, who were much excited. Well might they be;they had two of their number inside that cart, both shot and bleedingbadly from flesh wounds. They had been right to the east of the city, they reported, where the Russians and Japanese had come in. It wasterrible there, they said. Nothing but dead people and fires andlooting. Chinese soldiers had still remained there in hiding and weredefending some of the bigger buildings belonging to Manchu princes. Plunderers, also, were everywhere on the road. They advised cautionand told us not to trust ourselves in the alleyways. They had beencaught like that, and their servants and horse-boys had deserted in abody four miles away immediately fire was opened on them from somefortified house. That made me all the more determined. I would go andbe shot, too, if necessary, since it was the order of the day, but Imade up my mind that it would be no easy job to catch me sleeping. Already I understood fully the new methods and the new requirements. 

We rode away, stirrup to stirrup, I, a single white man, with a dozendoubtful adherents, made savage at the idea of loot, as companions, and held to me only by a questionable community of interests. Yet whatdid it matter, I thought. One lives only once and dies only once. Thatis elemental truth. So _tant pis_. 

In our joy at being on those open streets again, with never apasser-by or a vehicle to obstruct one's rapid passage, we went aheadin a whirlwind of dust. We passed street after street with always thesame silence about us we had noticed the day before. Everything wasclosed, tight shut; there was not a cat or a dog stirring abroad. Nearthe Legations and the Palace, where the fear lay the heaviest, itseemed like a city of the dead. 

Yet we knew that there were plenty of living men only biding theirtime and waiting their opportunity. It was only night that thesepeople desired; a good black night so that no one could see them flitabout. You felt in the small of your back as you rode along that uglyfaces were looking at you from the silent houses, and that at anymoment shots might ring out suddenly and bear you to the ground. Butthat was merely a preliminary feeling. Soon it added zest to theentertainment. What, indeed, did it matter? It only made one more andmore reckless. 

We sped swiftly along, only twice seeing men of any sort in severalmiles of streets. Once they were fellows who, on our approach, scuttled so quickly away to hide their identity that we could not besure whether they were white or yellow. But once, without concealment, a band of mixed European soldiery, in terrible disorder, who firstwished to fire on us, and then when they saw me set up a colourlesssort of cheer, appeared suddenly, only to disappear. We never pausedan instant; we kept straight on. 

As we made our way farther and farther to the east and came acrossrich districts of barricaded shops, signs were clear that pillaginghad gone on here already with insane violence, but by whom or at whattime it was impossible to say. Sometimes there were battered-in doorsand windows, with ugly, swollen corpses stretched near by; sometimesthe contents of a rich emporium had been swept, as if by some strangewhirlwind, out on the street to litter the whole driving road manyinches deep with the most heterogeneous things. On the ground, too, were dozens of the rude imitation flags which had been so franticallymade by the terror-striken populace in order to disclaim allassociation with Boxerism and the mad Imperialism being now sosummarily swept away. Jeering looters had torn these things down andcast them in the dirt to show, as a reply, that there was to be noquarter if they could help it. These grim notes limned speakingly oneverything, made it plain that a movement was in the air which couldhardly be arrested. It made one feel a little insane and intoxicatedto see it all; and as one's blood rushed through one's veins, afterthat long captivity, one had, too, the desire to add a little moredestruction, to break down places and to shoot for the amusement ofthe thing. You could not help it; it was in the air, I say. It was asubtle poison which could not be analysed, but which kept on coursingthrough one's veins and heating the blood to fever-pitch. The vastopen streets needed filling up with noise and rapid movements, onethought; the inhabitants must be galvanised to life again, onefelt. .. . 

My men needed every kind of wearing apparel, for they had been in ragsalthrough the siege, and as soon as possible they showed that theyappreciated the situation, and did not intend to stand on ceremony. They set to work as soon as they saw what they wanted. A huge Chineseboot, gaudily painted on a swinging sign-board, proclaimed aboot-shop, where in ordinary times they could buy every kind offoot-covering. But now it was no good attempting such methods. So theytilted straight at the shop-door without hesitation, and beating awild rataplan of blows on the wooden shutters, demanded an entry in aroar of voices. Otherwise they would shoot, they added. In very fewseconds, at this clamour, some shuffling steps were heard andtrembling hands unbarred in haste, fearing a worse fate. We then sawtwo blanched and trembling shopkeepers, whose dirtied clothes anddishevelled hair showed that they had had days and nights of the mostwretched existence. Shakingly they asked what we wanted, adding thatthey had not a piece of silver or yet a string of cash left. TheBoxers had taken everything weeks before; now honourable foreignsoldiery were beating them because they were so poor. My men did nottrouble to answer; they went to work. They wanted boots and shoes, and plenty of them, since there were plenty to take, and so theysearched and picked and chose. But presently one man gave vent to anoath, and them, in his surprise, laughed coarsely. He had discoveredthat there were only boots and shoes for the left foot. There wasnothing for the right foot, not a single boot, not a single shoe! Onceagain they did not trouble to speak, but merely pushing fire-piecesagainst the luckless shopkeepers' heads waited in silence. Immediatelythe men broke down anew and began whining more explanations. It wastrue there were no right feet, they said. The right feet were overthere in a neighbour's shop. That shop had all the right feet; theyhad only left feet. This seemed strange humour. Yet it was a good, ifcrude, device which these cunning shopkeepers had hit on even in theirdistress. For they knew that looters would probably not waste timeattempting to match shoes in such confusion, when so much betterthings were lying near. They hoped at least to save their stock bythis device; and it seemed certain that they would. I said not a word;this was a family affair. 

In the end a bargain was struck; two pairs of shoes for each man, andthe rest to be left untouched. Then the right feet appeared soonenough from hidden places, and the shopmen were saved from furtherloss. With all the other things the same procedure was adopted alongthis shopman's street. A bargain was struck in each case, which savedone side from undue loss and gave the other far less trouble. In thisnew fashion we captured chickens, eggs, sheep, rice, flour, and adozen other necessaries, only taking a quarter of what we would haveseized otherwise, in return for the help given. It was curiousshopping, but everybody was curious now. What you did not take, somebody would seize ten minutes later. 

These occupations were so peaceful and gave so little difficulty, thatit soon seemed to me as if everything was actually settling downquietly in this one corner of the city. Yet it was not so. We wereonly having momentary luck. For presently soldiers of variousnationalities began passing in many directions, some returning fromsuccessful forays, and others just starting out to see what they couldpick up. And on top of them all came a curious young fellow from oneof the Legations, galloping along on a big white horse he must havejust looted. He was accompanied by no one. He had been half-mad forweeks during the siege and now seemed quite crazy as he rode. 

It was he who had again and again volunteered to play the part ofexecutioner to all the wretched coolies engaged in sapping under ourlines who had been captured from time to time, and whose heads had atonce paid the last penalty. This man had done it always with ashot-gun, and he had seemed to gloat over it; and in the end peoplehad taken a detestation for him, and looked upon him for some strangereason as a little unclean. Now he was madly excited, and as soon ashe saw me he called out, in his thick Brussels accent, and made a longbroken speech, which I shall never forget. 

"Have you seen them?" he said, not pausing for a reply. "It is thesight of all others--the best of all. Hsu Tung, you remember, theImperial Tutor, who wished to make covers for his sedan chair with ourhides, and who was allowed to escape when we had him tight? Well, heis swinging high now from his own rafters, he and his wholehousehold--wives, children, concubines, attendants, everyone. Thereare sixteen of them in all--sixteen, all swinging from ropes tied onwith their own hands, and with the chairs on which they stood kickedfrom under them. That they did in their death struggles. Everywherethey have acted in the same way. They call it hanging, but it is notthat; it is really slow strangulation, which lasts for many minutes, because at the last moment the victims become afraid and try to regaintheir footholds. "

The man paused a minute and licked his dry lips. To me there wassomething hideous in this story being told on that sacked street. Hisvoice sounded a little like those Chinese trumpets, whose gurglingnotes make one think instantly of evil things. Then he went on, morefuriously than ever:

"And the wells near the Eastern Gates, have you seen them, where allthe women and girls have been jumping in? They are full of women andyoung girls--quite full, because they were afraid of the troops, especially of the black troops. The black troops become insane, thepeople say, when they see women. So the women killed themselveswherever they heard the guns. Now they are hauling up the dead bodiesso that the wells will not be poisoned. I have seen them take six andseven bodies from the same well, all clinging together, and the menhave tried to kill me because I looked. But I was well mounted; Icould look as long as I liked, and then gallop away so fast that noteven their shots could catch me. The place is full of dead people, nothing but dead people everywhere, and more are dying every minute. "

Then he came up to me and whispered how soldiers were behaving afterthey had outraged women. It was impossible to listen. He said thatour own inhuman soldiery had invited him to stay and see. Yet althoughI swore at the man and told him to go away, I could not drive him fromme. He wanted to talk and he had found some one who had to listen. Indeed, he clung to me all the way home, as if he had been at lengthfrightened by his own stories and by his imagination. Steadily hebecame more and more curious. He watched me eat, he watched me drink, but he would take nothing himself. He wanted to go out again. He musthave movement, he said, and he insisted on riding to MonseigneurF----'s Pei-t'ang Cathedral. He had not been there yet, and acuriosity suddenly seized him to see the place where others hadsuffered in the same way as ourselves. That reminded me, too, thateverybody had almost forgotten about this Roman Catholic cathedral, forgotten completely because they were now at their ease. It had beentwo whole days before troops were even sent there to see that all waswell, and even these only went because a priest had been killed halfway between the Legations and the Cathedral. I decided to go, too. Itwas almost a duty to make this pilgrimage. So we quickly left again. 

For a few minutes after leaving the occupied area we threaded streetswith men from the relief columns in full view, but soon enough wefound ourselves in treacherous roadways, all littered with the ruinsand the inexpressible confusion which come of desultorystreet-fighting spread over long weeks. To me this was a newquarter--one which I had not been near since the month of May, andsoon it was equally clear that it was still a very evil place. Onlyyesterday men who had broken away from the French corps were foundhere, some dead and some horribly mutilated. Yet in spite of this thesame signs of mock friendliness greeted our eyes on every side--thosefluttering little flags of all nations, so rudely made from whatevercloth had been handy. Every building displayed some flag--every singleone; but there now were other signs, too--signs which showed that allthis quarter had been picked so clean that it was of no more value tomarauders. Little notices, some in French, some in English, and a fewin other tongues, were scratched on the walls or written on dirtyscraps of paper and nailed up. Half in jest and half in earnest, thesecurious notices said all manner of things. For the wretched people whohad been plundered or otherwise ill used had already fallen into thehabit of asking from the soldiery for some scrap of writing whichwould prove that they had contributed their quota, and might, therefore, be exempted from further looting. Scrawled in soldiers'hands were such things as, "_Defense absolue de piller; nous autresavons tout pris_"; or, "No looting permitted. This show is cleanedout. " Everywhere these signs were to be seen. Here they must haveworked fast and furiously. .. . 

Riding quickly, at last we reached the famous cathedral, with greattrenches and earthworks surrounding it, and the torn and batteredbuildings showing how bitter the struggle had been. To oursiege-taught eyes a single look explained the nature of the defence, and the lines which had been naturally formed. It was written as plainas on a map. The priests and their allies had now hauled the enemy'sabandoned guns to the cathedral entrances and the spires were nowcrowned with garlands of flags of all nations. But that was all. Therewas no one to be seen. Everybody was away, out minding the newbusiness--that of making good the damage done by levying contributionson the city at large. It was all dead quiet, silent like some desertedgraveyard. The sailors and the priests and their converts, rememberingthat Heaven helps those who help themselves, had sallied out and werereprovisioning themselves and making good their losses. Indeed, theonly men we could find were some converts engaged in stacking upsilver shoes, or _sycee_, in a secluded quadrangle. These had becomethe property of the mission by the divine right of capture; thereseemed at the moment nothing strange about it. 

This silent cathedral, with its vast grounds and its desertedquadrangles torn up by the savage conflict, became to us curiouslyoppressive--almost ghostlike in the bright sunshine. It seemed absurdto imagine that forty or fifty rifle-armed sailors, a band of priestsand many thousands of converts had been ringed in here by fire andsmoke for weeks, and had lost dozens and hundreds at a time throughmine explosions. It seemed, also, equally absurd that the twenty orthirty thousand men who had poured into Peking had already become soquickly lost in the expanses of the city. Where were they all?. .. 

My mad companion had tired, too, of looking, and wanted again to rushoff and discover some signs of life. He wanted, above all, to see theplace where the first companies of the French infantry had suddenlycome on a mixed crowd of Boxers, soldiers and townspeople fleeing inpanic all mixed together, and had mown them down with _mitrailleuses_. There was a cul-de-sac, which was horrible, it was reported. Themachine-guns had played for ten or fifteen minutes in that death-trapwithout stopping a second until nothing had moved. The incident wasonly a day or two old, yet everyone had heard of it. People exclaimedthat this was going too far in the matter of vengeance. But everythinghad been allowed to go too far. .. . 

We rode out at a canter, and wondered more and more as we rode at thesolitude, where so few hours before there had been such a deafeningroar. We plunged straight into the maze of narrow streets, and thensuddenly, before we were aware of it, our mounts were swerving andsnorting in mad terror! For corpses dotted the ground in uglyblotches, the corpses of men who had met death in a dozen differentways. Lying in exhausted attitudes, they covered the roadway as ifthey had been merely _tired to death_. It was awful, and I began tohave a terrible detestation for these Asiatic faces, which, becausethey are dead, become such a hideous green-yellow-white, and whosebodies seem to shrivel to nothing in their limp blue suitings. Suchdead are an insult to the living. 

We picked our way on our trembling mounts, trying vainly to pushthrough quickly to escape it all. But it was no good. We had stumbledby chance on the actual route taken by an avenging column, and the menwho had been mad with lust to loot the Palace, and had been turned offalmost as an afterthought to relieve co-religionists, had vented theirwrath on everything. The farther and farther we penetrated the morehideous did the ruins and the corpses become. There was nothing butsilence once again--death, ruin, and silence; and at last we came onsuch a mountain of corpses that our ponies suddenly stampeded and wentmadly careering away. Frightened more and more by the sound of theirgalloping hoofs, the animals soon laid their legs to the ground andbolted blindly. Vainly we tugged at our bridles; vainly we tried everydevice to bring them to a halt. But again it was no good. It hadbecome a sort of mad gallop of death; the animals had to be allowed torid themselves of their feelings. 

Eventually we pulled up far away to the west of where we had started. We were now near the districts which had only the day before beenproclaimed highly dangerous to everyone until clearing operations hadswept them clean of lurking Boxers or disbanded soldiery. But nowattracted by a roar of flames, and indifferent to any dangers whichmight lurk near by, we followed up the trail of smoke hanging on theskies to see what was taking place. One's interest never ceased, yetit was only the same thing. French soldiers, some drunk and somemerely savage, had found their way here by some strange fate, andbeing quite-alone had evidently looted and then set fire to a big pileof buildings. They were discharging their rifles, too; for as weapproached, bullets whistled overhead, and sobbing townspeople, drivenfrom their hiding-places, began rushing away in every direction. Thiswas strange. 

Our arrival was only the signal for a fresh discharge of rifles, andthen there was no doubt who was attracting the fire. The men weredeliberately aiming at us to drive us away! We halted behind cover, and then with the same callousness as they displayed, we gave them avolley back, as a note of warning. It was my insane companion whodrove us to do that; but, forthwith, on the sound of that well-knitdischarge, there was more firing on every side, some shots coming fromhouses quite close to us and some from the open streets. With thegrowing roar and crackle of the flames these shots made veryinsignificant popping and attracted but little attention. Yet I soonsaw that this continuous firing could not come from the rifles ofEuropean soldiery, unless there were whole companies of them, and thatperhaps we had been mistaken for other people. And soon my suspicionswere confirmed by a confused shouting in the vernacular, and a rush ofmen from lanes not a hundred yards away. Then there were somehalf-suppressed blasts on the hideous Chinese trumpet and--Chinesesoldiery. .. . 

They came out with a mad rush and charged straight at the drunkenFrench marauders, firing quickly as they ran after the old mannerwhich we knew so well. As we gazed, the men from the relief columnsfell back in disorder without any hesitation--indeed, fled madly tothe nearest houses and began pelting their assailants with lead inreturn. Suppressed trumpet-blasts came again, rallying the attackers;more and more men rushed out from all sorts of places, and as this wasno affair of ours, and our retreat would certainly be cut off if wedallied, we retreated at full gallop farther and farther to the west. We were going straight away to where might be our damnation. 

I do not remember clearly how far we rode, or why we galloped, butsoon we arrived almost at the flanking city walls miles away, andfound ourselves among scores and hundreds of the enemy, who were stilllurking on the streets, half disguised and mixed with the townspeople. They fired at us as we rode; they fired at us when we stopped; formany minutes there was nothing to be heard but the hissing of lead andfierce yells. .. . 

Conscious that only a big effort would pull us through, we boldlyturned bridle and galloped to the south--reached a city gate, wentthrough at a frantic pace, and sought safety in the outer Chinesetown. Here it was quieter for a time, but as once more we approachedthe central streets, down which the Allies had marched, we came acrossother marauders. This time they were Indian troops going about inbands, with only their side arms with them, but leaving the samedestruction behind them. Then we came across Americans, again someFrench, then some Germans, until it became an endless procession oflooting men--conquerors and conquered mixed and indifferent. .. . 

It was eight at night before I pulled up on my foundered mount athome. I confess I had had enough. We were dead with fatigue. This wastoo much after one had those weeks of siege. 

IV

CHAOS

August, 1900. 

 * * * * *

The refugee columns have gone at last, and have got down safely to theboats at Tungchow, which is fifteen miles away, and in direct watercommunication with Tientsin. It is good that nearly all the women andchildren and the sick have been packed off. This is, indeed, no placefor them. An Indian regiment sent a band, which played the endlesscolumns of carts, sedan chairs, and stretchers out along the sandsunder the Tartar Wall, until they were well on their way. That madeeveryone break down a little and realise what it has been. They sayit was like India during the Mutiny, and that it was impossible forany one to have a dry eye. Even the native troops, rich in traditionsand stories of such times, understood the curious significance of itall. They talked a great deal and told their officers that it was thesame. 

Thus, winding away over the sands and through the dust, the only_raison d'etre_ of this great relief expedition has passed away. Probably a conviction of this is why the situation in Peking itselfshows no signs of improving. Some say that it has become rather worse, in a subtle, secret way. More troops have marched in, masses of Germantroops and French infantry of the line, and columns of Russians arealready moving out, bound for places no one can ascertain. Nothingbut moving men on the great roads. 

It is the newly arrived who cause the most trouble. Furious to findthat those who came with the first columns have all feathered theirnests and satisfied every desire, they are trying to make up for losttime by stripping even the meanest streets of the valueless thingswhich remain. They say, too, now, that punitive expeditions are to beorganised and pushed all over North China, because these new troops, which have come from so far, must be given something to do, and cannotbe allowed to settle down in mere idleness until something turns up, which will alter the present irresolution and confusion. .. . 

But for the time being there is little else but quiet looting. Evensome of the Ministers have made little fortunes from so-calledofficial seizures, and there is one curious case, which nobody quiteunderstands, of forty thousand taels in silver shoes being suddenlydeposited in the French Legation, and as suddenly spirited away bysome one else to another Legation, while no one dares openly to saywho are the culprits, although their names are known. Silver, however, is a drug in the market. Everybody, without exception, has piles ofit. Also, the Japanese, who are supposed to be on their good conduct, have despoiled the whole Board of Revenue and taken over a millionpounds sterling in bullion. They have been most cunning. The onlycurrency to be had is the silver shoe. These shoes can be bought at anenormous discount for gold in any form, and even with silver dollarsyou can make a pretty profit. The new troops, who have arrived toolate, are doing their best to find some more of this silver by diggingup gardens and breaking down houses. Marchese P----, of the Italians, who always pretends that he has been a mining engineer in someprehistoric period of his existence, calls it "working over thetailings. "

In consequence of this glut of silver and curiosities, a regularbuying and selling has set up, and all our armies are becoming armiesof traders. There are official auctions now being organised, where youwill be able to buy legally, and after the approved methods, everykind of loot. The best things, however, are being disposed ofprivately, for it is the rank and file who have managed to secure thereally priceless things. I heard to-day that an amateur who came upwith one of the columns bought from an Amerian soldier the Grand Crossof the Prussian Order of the Black Eagle, set in magnificent diamonds, for the sum of twenty dollars. It seems only the other day that PrinceHenry was here for the special purpose of donating this mark of thepersonal esteem of the Kaiser after the Kiaochow affair. Twentydollars--it is an inglorious end!

The native troops from India, seeing all these strange scenes aroundthem, and quickly contaminated by the force of bad example, are mostcurious to watch. When they are off duty they now select a good corneralong the beaten tracks where people can travel in safety, squat downon their heels, spread a piece of cloth, and display thereon all thelumps of silver, porcelain bowls, vases and other things which theyhave managed to capture. You can sometimes see whole rows of them thusengaged. The Chinese Mohammedans, of whom there are in normal timesmany thousands in Peking, have found that they can venture forth insafety in all the districts occupied by Indian troops once they put onturbans to show that they are followers of Islam; and now they may beseen in bands every day, with white and blue cloths swathed roundtheir heads in imitation of those they see on the heads of theirfellow-religionists, going to fraternise with all the Mussulmans ofthe Indian Army. It is these Chinese Mohammedans who now largely serveas intermediaries between the population and the occupation troops. They are buying back immense quantities of the silver and silks inexchange for foodstuffs and other things. A number of streets are nowsafe as long as it is light, and along these people are beginning tomove with more and more freedom. But as soon as it is dark the uproarbegins again. The Chinese have had time now, however, to hide all thevaluables that have been left them. Everything is being buried asquickly as possible in deep holes, and search parties now go out armedwith spades and picks, and try to purchase informers by promising agoodly share of all finds made. It is really an extraordinarycondition. .. . 

V

SETTLING DOWN

End of August, 1900. 

 * * * * *

It shows how little is still generally known of what is going on inour very midst, and low disordered things really are, when I say thatI only learned to-day that the whole city--in fact, every part ofit--has been duly divided up some time ago by the Allied Commandersinto districts--one district being assigned to every Power ofimportance that has brought up troops. They are trying to organisemilitary patrols and a system of police to stop the looting, whichshows no signs of abating. Everybody is crazy now to get more loot. Every new man says that he only wants a few trifles, but as soon as hehas a few he must, of course, have more, and thus the ball continuesrolling indefinitely. .. . Nothing will stop it. 

Yesterday, just as a man of the British Legation was telling me thatthe system was really all right, that it was, in fact, a workingsystem which would soon be productive of results, and that the badpart was over, a huge Russian convoy debouched into the street wherewe were standing. It was a curious mixture of green-painted Russianarmy-waggons and captured Chinese country carts, and every vehicle wasloaded to its maximum capacity with loot. The convoy had come in fromthe direction of the Summer Palace, and was accompanied by such asmall escort of infantrymen that I should not have cared to insurethem against counter-attacks on the road from any marauders who mighthave seen them in a quiet spot. A dozen mounted men of resolutioncould have cut them up. 

The carts lumbered along, however, indifferent to every danger, intheir careless disorder. Their drivers were half asleep, and thingskept on dropping to the ground and being smashed to atoms. Just nearus the ropes stretched round one cart became loosened by the rockingand bumping occasioned by the vile road, and the contents, no longerheld in place, began spilling to the ground. As soon as he had seenthis, the Russian soldier-driver became furious. He would have had todo a lot of work to repack his load properly, so he soon thought of ashorter and easier way: he began deliberately throwing overboard hisoverload! Three beautiful porcelain vases of enormous size andpriceless value suffered this fate; then some bulky pieces of jadecarved in the form of curious animals. C---- tried to stop the man, but I only smiled grimly. What did it matter? In Prince Tuan's PalaceI had seen, a couple of days before, the incredible sight of thousandsof pieces of porcelain and baskets full of wonderful _objects devertu_ smashed into ten thousand atoms by the soldiery who had firstforced their way there. They only wanted bullion. Porcelain painted inall the colours of the rainbow, and worth anything on the Europeanmarkets--what did that mean to them!

The convoy at last bumped away, leaving merely a long trail of dustbehind it and those fragments on the ground, and C---- became silentand then left me suddenly. Perhaps the idea had finally entered hisrespectable British head that we had become grotesque and out ofdate, and that we should retreat and make room for other men. Nobodycares for anybody else. Only a few hours before a reliable story hadbeen going the rounds that some Indian infantry had opened fire on aRussian detachment in the country just beyond the Chinese city, pleading that it was a mistake. How could it have been? There is onlyone really sensible thing to do, and now it is too late to do that; toset fire to the whole city and then retreat, as Napoleon did fromMoscow. The road to the sea is too short and the winter too far offfor any harm to come. 

The first cables have at length come through in batches from Europe, by way of the field telegraphs, which are now working smoothly andwell. Everybody of importance is being transferred, but it isimpossible to find out where they are all going. All the Ministers nowpretend that they had asked for transfers before the siege actuallybegan, and that they will be heartily glad to go away and forget thatsuch a horrible place as Peking exists. Yet from the nervousness ofthose who have been told to report for orders in Europe, it cannot beall joy. 

VI

THE FORBIDDEN FRUIT

August, 1900. 

 * * * * *

Fortunately my friend K----, of the Russian Legation, rescued me at amoment when I was prepared only to moralise on this infernalsituation, and to see nothing but evil in everything both around meand in myself. I like to put it all down to the strange stupor andlack of energy which have settled down on everything like a blight, but I believe, also, that there must be a little bit of remorse at thebottom of my feelings. K---- came in gaily enough, pretending that hewas looking for a breakfast and had learned of my retreat by merechance as he rode by. He had heard, I believe, as a matter of fact, that there were a number of women on the premises, and that I wasliving _en prince_. Perhaps, he had a number of reasons for coming. From what he told me, however, it soon appeared that he had knownL----, the commander of the Russian columns, for many years, and hadjust done business with him; and that, in consequence, the Russiancommander, who is a pleasant old fellow, risen from the ranks, hadsaid that he could have a private view of the Palace if he swore onhis honour that he would not divulge the excursion to any one. Hemust, also, not take anything. He did not tell me all at first. Itcame out bit by bit, after I had been sounded on a number of points. Then he asked me if I would like to come, and if I, too, would swear. 

Of course, I duly swore!

Eventually we started on our long ride; for it was necessary for us togo right round the Imperial city, skirting the pink walls so as not tobecome involved in other people's territory, or to be noticed toomuch. That was one of the preliminary precautions, K---- said. All theway round, that ride was a beautiful illustration of the way theInternational Concert (written with capital letters) is now working. At absolutely every entrance into the Imperial city there were troopsof one nationality or another: American, British, French, German, Japanese, and others--all looking jealously at every passer-by, andholding so tight to their precious gates, that it appeared as if allthe world was conspiring to wrest them from their grasp. They thought, perhaps, that this Palace is the magic wand which touches all Chinaand can produce any results; that both in the immediate and dim futurethe obtaining of a good foothold here will mean an immense amount totheir respective countries. What fatuous, immense foolishness! For amoment, as I looked at these guards, I had the insane desire to chargesuddenly forward and call upon the French, in the name of their dearAlly, Czar Nicholas, to hand me their gate, or else take theconsequences; to do the same to the others; to mix them up and confusethem; to tell them that a new war had been declared; that they wouldsoon have to fight for their lives against formidable foes--to tellthem mad things and to add to the rumours which already fill the air. These troops, which had been hurled on Peking in frantic haste, hadonly come because it was a matter of jealousy--that was now clear tome. They themselves did not know why they had come, or with whom theywere fighting, or why they were fighting. They knew nothing and caredless. And yet it does not much matter. It is not really they who areto blame, nor even their officers. I know full well how instructionsare issued and how little the pawns really count. .. . The despatchesfrom the Chancelleries of Europe, how grotesque they can be! Everybodyis always so afraid of everybody else. 

Yet while I was thinking these things, K---- was not. He was secretlyworried, as he rode, whether L----'s promise would materialise, orwhether there would be another _impasse_. Somehow I felt certain thatthere would be more difficulties, in spite of all assurances. _Cen'est pas pour rien qu'on connait les Russes_, as C----, our old_doyen_, always says. .. . 

We passed at length into the Imperial city by the northern entrances, far away from everybody else, and found ourselves in the midst of abig Russian encampment, with rows upon rows of guns ranged in regularformation and lots of tents and horses. All the soldiery here weretaking it very easy on this sunny day; had, indeed, strippedthemselves, and were now engaged in sluicing themselves over withice-cold water from a beautiful marble-enclosed canal. These hundredsupon hundreds of clean white men, with their flaxen hair and theirblue eyes, seemed so strange and out of place in this semi-barbaricPalace and so indifferent. How curious it was to think that only a fewdays ago the Empress and all her _cortege_ had passed here!

We sought out the post commander and told him our purpose. Thedifficulties began quickly enough then, as I had anticipated. Theofficer explained to us that our request was out of order andimpossible; that no one was allowed inside the inner precincts or hadever been there; and hinted, incidentally, that we must be mad. K---- listened to all this in that insulting silence which is a suresign of gentility, and then, ransacking his pockets, brought out aletter and handed it to our man. That produced a change which mighthave been highly amusing at other times. There was the complete_volte-face_ which amuses. The officer suddenly saluted, clicked hisheels, and said in a silky way, like a cat which has tasted milk, thatthis order was explicit and made things different; that, indeed, wemight go at once if we liked, only we must be discreet--highlydiscreet. He would accompany us himself. Such trivial details weresoon arranged. 

We left our ponies and our outriders then and marched forward quicklyon foot. The soldiery around us stared and laughed among themselves assoon as they saw where we were going. This made me understand thatthis excursion had been taken before, probably under the same ordersand in exactly the same way. It was only a well-rehearsed comedy. K----, who is really a bit of a coward, did not appear to relish thecomments made, and now became suddenly reluctant. He told meafterwards that he had overheard the men saying that we might bekilled inside, as there were many people there. So in silence we allmarched on. 

The first gate we reached was a beautiful example of the art of thisNorthern country. There were splendid pillars of teak, marble tigersand marble fretwork beneath, with much glittering colouring around. Astrong post of Russian infantry was on guard here, and sitting insidethe enclosure with the men off duty were a number of Palace eunuchs. They all seemed quite intimate together and were chaffing oneanother--soldiers and eunuchs laughing heartily at some coarse jest. 

We wended our way through a marble courtyard, which wore a ratherdeserted and forlorn look, and which had huge low-lying halls anddwellings for the Palace servants ranged on either side. Theseappeared to be all deserted now, but at regular intervals were Russiansentries standing up on lookout platforms. They were peering over thewalls in every direction, and seemed to be keeping a very sharplookout. The officer said that many guards of other nationalities werewell within rifle-shot from here, and that men were continually tryingto steal their way right into the inner Palace by scaling the walls. He called them robbers!

The next gate was much smaller, and showed from its very appearancethat we were nearing the actual Palaces--the hidden, mysterious abodesof the Tartar rulers who had so ignominiously fled. Here the sentrieshad the strictest orders, for, stopping us short with their loweredbayonet points, they looked askance at us, and politely asked theofficer who we were and why we had ventured here. In the end, to settheir minds at ease, he had to tear a leaf from his pocket-book, writean order, and make us sign our names. Upon this, the non-commissionedofficer in charge of this post detached himself and joined our littleparty. We were not going to be allowed in alone, and imperceptibly theaffair assumed a graver and more consequential aspect. Then, quietlyadvancing, we four were speedily lost in the huge maze of gardens andbuildings. The area covered by the Palaces was enormous. 

Beyond this was a succession of high, picturesque-looking buildings ofa curious Persian-Tartar appearance, with little galleries runninground them, and drum-shaped gateways of stone pierced in unexpectedplaces. There were also flowering trees and beautiful groves. It was, indeed, charming, and over everything there was a refined coolnesswhich to me was something very new. We came on a last sentry, who, ata word from his sergeant, drew a heavy iron key from a wooden boxhanging on the wall and fitted it to a lock. The key turned with afaint screeching, which seemed out of place; the little gate wasthrust open and closed behind us, and . .. At last we were within thesacro-sanct courtyards of the rulers of the most antique Empire in theworld. .. . 

Around us there was now a curious and unnatural quiet, as if the worldwas very old here, and the noises of modern life remained abashed atthe thresholds. I knew well from a study of the curious old Chinesemaps, which the vendors of Peking _objets d'art_ always offer you, where we were, and it was almost with a sense of familiarity that Iturned and made my way to the east. There I knew in ordinary times theEmpress Dowager herself lodged in a whole Palace to herself. Somewherenot very far from us I caught the soft cooing of the doves, whicheveryone in Peking, from Emperor to shopkeepers, delights to keep, inorder to send sailing aloft on balmy days with a low-singing whistleattached to their wings--a whistle which makes music in the air andcalls the other birds. Who has not heard that pleasant sound? Even theEmpress Dowager must have loved it. Here, in her private realm, thedoves were cooing, cooing, cooing, just like the French word_roucoulement_, spoken strongly with the accent of Marseilles. Youcould hear these birds of the Marseilles accent saying continuallythat French word: _Roucoulement, roucoulement, roucoulement_, withnever a break. .. . 

We ran up some flights of marble steps, following these gentle sounds, and walked along a broad terrace adorned with fantastically curveddwarf-trees, set in rich porcelain pots, and made stately withenormous bronze braziers. The Russian officer, and even the Russiansergeant, were agreeably stroked by the contact with all this quietand seclusion and this old-world air, and they murmured in sibilantRussian. It pleased them immensely. 

We hastened to the end of the terrace, going quickly, because we wereanxious to find more delights; and as we turned at the end, withoutany warning there were a few light screams and a little scuffle offeet which died away rapidly. Women. .. . 

We caught a disappearing vision of brilliantly coloured silks andsatins and rouged faces passing away through some doors, and thenbefore we had satisfied our eyes, several flabby-faced men suddenlycame out and called imperatively to us to stop and go away. We couldnot go farther, they said. 

The two men of the Russian army, with the instinct of discipline whichwe lacked, halted as if orders were being disobeyed, and looked atK---- for inspiration. K---- stroked his thin moustaches, and put hishead a little on one side, as if he were debating what to say. I--wellsince I had nothing to lose, and it did not really matter, I wentforward without any delay, asking our interlocutors roughly what theymeant and what they were doing here, and telling them, too, that wewere going on. I knew that they were sexless eunuchs, who wouldstammer as I had heard them stammer in the old days when I had seenthem trafficking things they had been donated by officials desirous ofcultivating their friendship, in the mysterious curio shops beyond thegreat Ch'ien Men Gate. Nor was I wrong. Stammering, they replied byasking how it was that orders had been broken. Stammering, they saidthat all the great generals had promised that the inner Palaces wereto be kept immune; now men were for ever climbing in, and others werecoming openly as we were doing. What did we wish?

I am afraid I was rude, for questions in these times do not sit wellon such folk, and I told them more roughly than ever to go quicklyaway, or else we would hurt them. Perhaps we would even hurt thembadly I insinuated, fingering my revolver, for we had a duty to do. Wewere going to inspect the entire Palace and see that all was well. Andbefore these men had recovered from their surprise we had pushed rightinto the Empress Dowager's own ante-chambers. 

I saw, as I walked in, that a long avenue in the distance led directlyto a high yellow-walled enclosure. That must be the Imperial seraglio, where the hundreds of young Manchu women provided by tradition for theamusement of the Emperor were imprisoned for life. In the haste of theCourt's flight, the majority of them had been abandoned, and only themost valuable taken off. Everybody had heard of that. 

Gently discoursing to the disturbed eunuchs, we went through roomafter room, which even on the hot autumn day seemed cool and peaceful. The _objects de vertu_ which littered the small tables, and thescrolls which hung from the walls, did little to relieve the sombreeffect of those high ceilings and carved wood frescoes. Yet there wasa little air of distinction and refinement which showed that animmeasurable gulf separated the favoured dwellers of this Palace fromeven the greatest outside. Even here Royalty does more than oblige; itcompels. .. . 

With the eunuchs protesting more and more vigorously, and seeking tostay our advance by a curious mixture of suggestion and imploring andresistance which is a quality of the East, we slowly passed throughapartment after apartment. Some now were furnished with luxurious longdivans which eloquently invited graceful repose. What scenes had notthis silent furniture witnessed, and how little could the makers havesupposed, as they cunningly carved and stained and coloured, thatbarbarians from Europe would be one day insolently gazing on theirhandiwork!. .. 

I had lagged somewhat behind, when some curses and imprecationsdragged my wandering attention to the doors beyond. Two eunuchs hadfallen on their knees and were now kowtowing and begging with renewedvigour, while a third was standing more resolutely than his fellowswith outstretched arms, imperatively forbidding any further advance. The most interesting point had been reached; this must be the greatestthing of all. 

But these eunuchs were beginning to fatigue us with their airs of dulyauthorised custodians who could do as they pleased, and going up, wenow told them that unless they went quickly away we would kill themthen and there. We all drew our revolvers, stood over them, and waiteda minute of two. Then, as if they had acted their parts right up tothe end, the men on their knees got up suddenly, shook themselves, bowed to us politely without a trace of feeling, and left. .. . "_Enfin, "_ said K----. 

At last we were in this dear Empress's bedroom, the abode whichshelters for such a considerable number of hours of every twenty-fourthe most powerful woman in Asia. We looked eagerly. At one side of theroom was a large bed, beautifully adorned with embroidered hangings;ranged round there was a profusion of handsome carved-wood furniture, with European chairs upholstered in a style out of keeping with therest; on a high stand there were jewelled clocks noisily ticking; andhidden modestly in one corner was nothing less than a magnificentsilver _pot de chambre_. She was here evidently very much at her ease, the dear old lady. That little detail delighted me. The rest wasrather _banal_. 

_Sans ceremonie_, I seated myself on the Imperial bed--it seemed to bethe most peaceful act of vandalism I could commit in repayment forcertain discomforts occasioned by this old lady's whims during eightweeks of rifle-fire. And as my recollections went back to thoseterrible days, I came down heavily as I could on this august couch. Imust confess that as a bed it was excellent; the old lady must haveslept well through it all, while she caused us our ceaseless vigil. .. . 

This solitude in the most secluded of spots in the whole Palace madeus more and more inquisitive, and soon K---- and myself were hard atwork, rummaging every likely hiding-place. 

Our escort watched our antics and said nothing. It made an odd enoughlittle scene that, and I liked to think of its incongruity--we twosets of men, who had not known of each other's existence an hour ago, now absolutely alone in this retreat, from whence the siege had beenlargely directed. 

K---- continued rummaging, making an extraordinary amount of noise, and exclaiming to himself now and again as he came across trifleswhich interested him. Then I discovered a _compote_, or preserve madeof rose-leaves, which was so sweet and fragrant that we began promptlyeating. There were also Russian cigarettes, _au bonheur des dames_, yet quite fit to smoke, and then just as we were becoming reasonablycontent, K---- gave a tremendous oath and brought out something in hishand. Then I knew that he was lost--that there would be speedycomplications; it was a Louis XV. Painted watch--his greatestweakness. Peking is full of these watches, some genuine enough andmany spurious. They were made the vogue centuries ago by the cleverJesuit priests, when the first disciples of Loyola to come to Chinawere playing for kingly stakes in the capital of Cathay, and were notashamed to use any means which the ingenuity might discover to delightthe Manchu rulers of that day. Many of the most beautiful watches inFrance, with amorous paintings of the most voluptuous kind decoratingthe inside case, were brought to Peking and distributed among the highand mighty. That set up a fashion for such pretty things; more andmore were brought, until Peking became a storehouse, stocked with thisspecialty. Everyone even to-day has an example or two of this art, ifthey can afford it. 

I thought of these things as I saw K---- trifle with that watch andscrutinise it more and more closely. He looked at it for a last timelongingly, and then, without a word, suddenly placed it in his pocket. That was cool. But at once the Russian officer started forwardprotesting; we were breaking our words; we had begun looting; he wouldbe forced to arrest us. As he spoke, the man became so red andexcited, that K----, who pretended at first merely to smileindulgently, became more and more alarmed, and finally replaced thewatch without a word. But still he continued this curious search, andcoming across other things, I noticed vaguely that he seemed to beplacing them all together in little collections, so that he couldeasily get at them again. .. . 

Then we wandered away to other great buildings, and we came on abeautiful set of princely rooms, full of ticking clocks and richtapestries, and with such things as solid gold _bonbonnieres_, studdedwith coarse, uncut stones, lying on the secretaires and small tables. These, I believe, were the Emperor's apartments in normal times. Therewere lots of beautiful things here--vases, enamels, jade, cloisonne, and much wondrous porcelain; and although everyone had been sayingthat Peking was not as rich as in 1860, when those strings ofbeautiful black pearls had been brought home for the Empress Eugenie, still it was clear that these Palaces contained a wealth undreamed ofoutside. Indeed, there were magnificent things. .. . 

Round the corners, as we walked, we saw the eunuchs looking andlurking, and finally disappearing whenever they thought that they wereseen. There were more of them now, too, and, seeing us quite alone, they were beginning to pluck up courage and wished once more tointerfere. I thought for an instant as I looked at their evil faces oftearing down some rich embroidery and fashioning from it a sack justas I had seen those Indian troopers do so few days before; then ofsetting to work and piling everything I fancied into it and making asif I intended to go off. 

Yet such a comedy would not be worth the candle; the officer and thesergeant would have to go through the formality of arresting me, andthe eunuchs would not even be noticed. .. . 

Engrossed with such thoughts, and no longer amused by my surroundings, I must have forgotten myself for a moment in a brown study; for when Icame to, I was surprised to find that we four had drifted somedistance apart, and that K---- was now whispering rapidly to theRussian officer alone, and that the sergeant was standing far away, with his back turned to them, slily fingering the things on thetables. Then the sergeant allowed his hand to linger longer than wasnecessary, and, throwing a sharp look round out of the corners of hiseyes, he suddenly thrust some object into his pocket. He, too, hadsuccumbed! I paid not the slightest attention to these curiousdevelopments, but pretended to be gazing idly at nothing. Still, Ikept my eyes on the alert. K---- was manifestly plotting for thosewatches; it was not my business--what did it matter to me if he tookeverything there was?

The officer, whatever the arguments, was obviously not yet veryconvinced, nor very happy. He shook his head vigorously again andagain, and protested in that thick Russian undertone, which alwaysseems to me to explain what Russians really are. Yet those thick toneswere becoming gradually monotonous and less emphatic, and presentlyslower and slower, until they stopped altogether. Then K---- cametowards me, and said carelessly that he supposed I wanted to wanderaround a little more on my own account to see what else there was. Itwas an invitation to disappear. Very well! I moved off suddenly andsent the eunuchs scurrying back. There was a wish to split up theparty for a few minutes so that no one would know what the otherswere doing. I knew I should immensely annoy the eunuchs by goingtowards the women's quarters. Well, I would not cavil. .. . 

I walked rapidly enough then down that back avenue I had observedbefore, and looked neither behind me nor to the right or left. I wouldgo straight through to the end, _Dieu voulant_! It would beinteresting to have the unique experience of exploring the poorEmperor's most private domains. But then I remembered that the womenhad screamed and run away when they had caught sight of us in thebeginning. Now they would be securely locked in, and it was absurd anddangerous to think of storming a gate by one's self. Farther andfarther I walked away until I became doubtful. .. . 

I suddenly became aware that I was in front of a small door; that thedoor was ajar; and that an amused talking and moving was going on verynear with many ripples of laughter rising clearly in the still air. Itseemed that the fates were helping me for some inscrutable purpose. Imust discover that purpose. Without a quiver I boldly walked in. 

I came on them without any sense of emotion, although nothing couldhave been so novel--a number of groups of young Manchu women, someclothed in beautiful robes, some in an undress which was hardlymaidenly. They were sitting and standing scattered round a largecourtyard, and hidden somewhere above them in the yellow tiled roofswere more of those cooing doves with that strong accent of Marseilles:"_Roucoulement, roucoulement, roucoulement_, " they said very gentlythis time, yet without ever ceasing. Their soft voices made beautifulmusic. .. . For some reason none of the harem were surprised. Two orthree of the younger women ran back a step or two, and clasped thehands of the others with broken ejaculations. Then they all sought myeyes, and somehow we began smiling at one another. All women are thesame; these knew somehow that I would not hurt them. Yet in spite ofthis fact I stood there embarrassed, knowing not what to say or do. Ihad supposed myself inured by now to all the most impossiblesituations--yet it seemed so absurd that I should be here, alone, absolutely alone, among dozens of young women who were the Emperor'smost inviolate property--virgins selected from among the highest andmost comely in the land; forbidden fruit, which had not even beentasted because of the Emperor's lack of masculinity. .. . I thoughtrapidly of the various classes into which these women are dividedaccording to immemorial custom: of the concubines of the first rank, of the second, of the third, and even of the fourth, who are merelyfavoured hand-maidens of the Biblical type. Then I wondered whether itwas true that when the former Emperor Hsien Feng had suddenly died, and the Empress Dowager had selected the child Kuang-shu to succeedhim, she had caused the child to be mutilated, so that the question ofthe next heir should remain in her own hands. .. . The women would know. 

And yet even Imperial concubines must have opportunities which no onesuspects, for I was suddenly relieved of the necessity of breaking theice by their breaking it for me. Without embarrassment they suddenlybegan plying me with questions, and not waiting for replies, theyasked what was going on outside; what was going to happen; who was I;why had I come; why was I not a soldier?. .. The questions came sofast and thick that before I had realised it I had forgotten mysurroundings, forgotten the time, forgotten most things, I am afraid, and was deep in the middle of an astonishing conversation, which neverflagged and which was continually broken with laughter. Then I wasbrought to ominously. I heard a door shut with a thump; I saw thewomen pinch and look at one another and cease talking. What did thatdoor mean?

On purpose I did not turn round; that would have been fatal. I did asI always do now: I gained time to lessen the shock. Some day, when Ihave much leisure, I shall, doubtless, prepare tables speciallyadapted to every situation and to every temperament, which will showexactly the number of seconds, minutes, and hours which are necessaryon an average to accustom one's self to anything. It is possible to doso; it will be astonishing when it is done. For the time being, Ithought of this rather glumly--indeed, without a trace ofenthusiasm--and I wished a little that I had not been so foolish inputting my head inside the lion's mouth. I remembered the story aformer Secretary of the British Legation used to tell us of twoEnglishmen, who, in the unregenerate days in Cairo--or was itConstantinople?--climbed into the harem, and were cruelly mutilatedfor their audacity before they could be rescued. I became so glum asthis flashed through my mind, that my great system of preparation wasin imminent danger of breaking down. So I turned suddenly round on myheel, and looked squarely . .. It was as I had thought. 

The door I had entered had been quietly locked, and now, inside, werestanding, with moving lips and menacing air, those evil-lookingeunuchs. This time there were four of them. Two were the two who hadknelt and prayed that we should not enter the Empress Dowager'sprivate apartments; one was the man who had stood up and been almostthreatening; the last one was so tall that his aspect of strengthalmost gave the lie to the assumption that he had been mutilated forPalace use. These last two would be difficult; the others I couldleave out of my calculations. 

Faithful to my theory, and trusting to this strange ally, I merelyopened my revolver-pocket; then it was with a sense that I wasirretrievably lost that I saw that two of the opponents were armed inthe same way. My theories and preparations were all falling to theground. I would probably follow them in person in a very few minutes. Nobody would be the wiser. .. . 

I stood there waiting while these men muttered at me, as if they nowhated me bitterly, and yet did not know how to commence, and with thewomen behind me chattering affrighted. In vain I tried to work out howmany eunuchs there really were in this vast Palace; whether a greatnumber had gone away with the Court, or whether these four men wouldsummon four more, or perhaps fourteen, and possibly even forty or fourhundred. They always say the Palace contains three thousand. .. . 

It was all no good, however, for it was my turn to play, and without Iplayed we might remain standing there in this manner until it becamedark. Then I could be beaten to the ground and thrown down a wellwithout any one being the wiser. No search could be made for me, andif one was made, nothing would be found. Men were continually missingin Peking, and no one knew how they met their fate. .. . 

I advanced now with my hands empty and my mind fairly made up. Everything depended on a new theory, which I was about to test, a mereChinese theory concerning eunuchs--that their mutilation makes thembestial, but also downtrodden and quite spiritless and peculiarlyweak. That is why the old Empress could thrash them to death wheneverthey displeased her, without their daring to raise their hands or makeone single struggle. Now, as I walked forward, I could see my oldChinese teacher, who had taught me these strange theories concerningeunuchs, sitting in front of me and slowly waving his fan, and showingby an analysis of things I did not clearly understand, how Nature hadlaws and decrees which cannot be violated without bringing heavy andimmediate punishment in their train. As I walked forward I could nothelp seeing that old figure of a Chinese teacher in front of me, andprayed that he was correct. If he was not . .. Then I stopped thinkingand acted. 

I did it neatly, with some brutality, because I had been absolutelysurprised, and had not yet recovered, and, also, because I was morethan a little afraid. Six paces off I threw myself in two savagebounds against the tall man; caught him with my right hand by theoutstretched right arm, hurled him round once by the force of my ownimpetus and the strength of my grasp; and then, as he swiftly swungwith loosened legs, stopped him suddenly short with a mighty up-drivenblow of my right knee, which sang so deep and cruelly into his softflesh, that it grated harshly against his spinal column. Nobody canresist that blow--according to the old man's theory, least of all aeunuch--nobody, nobody. It should be certain as death, once you havethe right grip. With a gurgle my man had sunk to the ground a mereshapeless mass, perhaps really dead; and with by breath coming hotthrough my nostrils at this success I closed fiercely with the second, seized him by the throat, wrenched at him like a madman, and carriedhim staggering back. The other trick demands the six paces and theimpetus; I would have liked to have tried it again, but I had notdared. .. . 

But it was finished with dramatic suddenness, for even as I ran thesecond eunuch, gasping for breath, backwards, the other two rushed tothe door, opened it hurriedly, and then stepped aside with loudimplorings and supplications. I accepted. I let go my grasp andquickly jumped out. I, too, had had enough. As I went through I caughta last glimpse of that curious scene framed by the red gate-posts andthe roofs beyond--the senseless eunuch on the ground, the otherstanding near by, coughing and reaching at his throat, the women ofthe seraglio in their gaily flowered coats pressing curiouslyround. .. . But I had enough. I did not tarry. Rapidly I walked away, with a little prayer in my heart. I felt almost as I had felt oncewhen I was nearly drowning. 

I found K----, five minutes later, sitting on the first marbleterrace, with his pockets bulging out and an expression of ox-likesatisfaction on his face. That was an antidote which speedily soberedme. The officer was farther on, and had also looted by his looks. Thesergeant of the guard--well, I knew about him already. K---- smiledwhen I appeared, and said that I had been very quick and that he didnot expect me so soon. I did not take the trouble to answer;explanations are always apologies. If I had told him the truth, hewould never have believed me, and certainly never have understood. And if I had lied there would have been the same result. So I merelysaid I was ready, and that we had seen enough; and then, in silence, each man thinking of what he had done, we covered the way back veryquickly and mounted our ponies. All the way home during that long rideI was amused by watching the heavy posts of soldiery belonging to theother columns, who were so jealously guarding their own entrances. Howangry they would have been if they had only known!. .. That was anextraordinary day. 

VII

THE FEW REMAINS

End of August, 1900. 

 * * * * *

Imperceptibly, I believe, things are settling down a little andassuming broad outlines which can be more easily understood as thedays go by. Most people who went through the siege have now gone away. A few remaining missionaries and their converts have flowed far awayand quartered themselves in some of the residences of the minor Manchuprinces, and are now selling off what they have found by auction. Theyhave the special permission of the Ministers and Generals to act inthis way. Loot-auctions, indeed, are going on everywhere, and the fewpeople who have managed to get through from other places in China withloads of silver dollars are making fortunes. There are enormous massesof silver _sycee_ in nearly everybody's hands, and I am certain nowthat several of our _chefs de mission_ are in clover. My own chief, who pretends to be virtuous because he is something of a _faineant_, to put it mildly, eyed me very severely the other day and said thateveryone reported that I had developed into a species of latter-dayrobber-chief, and had slain hundreds of people. He said all sorts ofother things, too. I let him exhaust his oratory before I replied. Then I inquired regarding the definition of the term treasure-trove, which has become the consecrated phrase for all our many hypocrites. The generals and many of his colleagues had much treasure-trove, Isaid; I had some, too. Of course, I admitted that if there wereinvestigations, and everyone had to render a strict account, I woulddo the same; but for the time being I wanted to know that there wasgoing to be only one law for everyone. Those were good replies, forsome of the biggest people in the Legations are so mean and so bent oncovering up their tracks that they are using their wives to do theirdirty work. 

I believe my chief thought for a moment that I knew something about anaffair in which he was involved, for he only said one word, "_Bien, "_and looked at me in a strange way. I knew I had frightened him, andthat he must have thought that if I chose to speak later on therewould be trouble. I had no such intention, of course, only I hatedbeing annoyed by a man of little courage. Had he been courageous Ishould never have answered at all, except perhaps to offer him a shareof my private treasure-trove!

Yet with all this settling down it seems to me that people must bebecoming suddenly more and more commercial, and that an inspection oftheir accounts makes them wish for a little more on the profit side. For one morning a young Englishman, who has been living in Pekingrather mysteriously for a number of years, marched in on me at a veryearly hour, accompanied by several Chinese, whom I immediately knewfrom their appearance to be small officials. The Englishman said thathe had a plan and a proposition, and these he unfolded so rapidly thathe made me laugh. It appeared that the men he had brought with himwere _ku-ping_, or Treasury Guards of the Board of Revenue under theold _regime_; and, according to their accounts, they knew exactlywhere the secret stores of treasure were hidden in the secret vaultsof the government. They explained that these stores belonged not onlyto the government, but were also portions of what peculating officialstook from day to day and hid away until they could remove theirplunder in safety after an inspection had been made. They said, didthese informants, that there were millions in both gold and silver. They became very enthusiastic and excited as they talked. 

I waited patiently to see how they proposed to solve this problem--didthey wish a bold, open, frontal attack or an underground plot? Nothingis very astonishing now, and we have all the resourcefulness of_condottieri_, with a certain modern respectability added. But theywere sensible people, and did not dream of the impossible. Theysupposed, they said, that I knew that the Russians had now fullcontrol of the Board of Revenue. Perhaps, if their commander could beapproached in the proper way, the matter could be very rapidlyattended to. The treasure could be seized in the name of the RussianGovernment and everyone could get a share. That is what they said. 

At first I thought of refusing point-blank, for I was rather tired ofthese adventures; but the men were so persistent, and I had been soirritated by the pious insincerity of my own chief, that in the end Itold them that I would see what could be done, although the matter didnot interest me very much. I privately again thought of what our old_doyen_ says, "_Ce n'est pas pour rien qu'on connait les Russes_, " andwondered how long negotiations would last. 

Of course it was a wretchedly long business, and before long Iregretted bitterly that I had not been more hard-hearted. I managed tocommunicate with L---- that same day through R----, and explained tohim as well as I could the whole affair. I found the RussianCommander-in-Chief a sly old fox, for his first idea was to thank mefor the information and have the whole Treasury searched; ifnecessary, to dig down to a depth of twenty feet or so with the helpof a regiment or two of infantry. That was his idea. In the end wemanaged to convince him that this was foolish, and that there must beplaces which his soldiers could not reach even by prodding down withtheir bayonets and spades to great depths. Secret chambers cannot beeasily discovered even in this way, we said. That made L---- veryangry, for no reason apparently but that the affair seemed a hugebother and trouble. He said in reply that the Japanese had takeneverything in any case, and that this was going to be a fool's questif he went on with it. Also, he would not listen to any arrangementsbeing made and put in writing regarding the proportions to be paid toeveryone if a find was actually made. Indeed, this last ideairritated him so much that he angrily said that we were deliberatelyplotting to take away the property of the Russian Government--propertywhich the Russian Government could not afford to lose, and did notintend to lose, either. He even added that this was a city of robbers, and that people would not keep to their own territory, but were alwaystrying to trespass. This made us laugh so much that he suddenlychanged his manner, and said that the whole question was a serious oneand would have to be referred home by telegraph. Otherwise he couldnot authorise any payments. K----, who was present, repliedsarcastically that perhaps he would like to refer the question directto the Czar, and begged him to be cautious in such a very importantaffair!

The last thing which could be got out of the RussianCommander-in-Chief was that he would telegraph at once to Alexieff atPort Arthur and ask his permission to arrange matters. If Alexieffsaid yes, we would go to work at once; otherwise nothing could beattempted. I knew that probably not a single word would be mentionedto any one out of Peking, and that these were mere manoeuvres. However. .. . 

I had almost forgotten the matter when, a few mornings after thisinterview, I was suddenly awakened at daylight and told that therewere several Russian officers in my courtyard who wished to speak tome at once. Their business was urgent. I went out and greeted the men, and they said that L---- would be ready at two o'clock that day to gowith his staff to the Board of Revenue and effect the seizure; andthat a quarter share on all amounts seized would be given by theRussian Government for the information supplied. These officers addedthat they would have to go back at once; but in the end they remainedwith me the whole morning, drinking as hard as they could, andcontenting themselves with despatching a Cossack to say that all wasarranged. 

We started to go to the Russian headquarters at an early hour, but insome mysterious way news must have been conveyed to other people ofthis latest development, for half a dozen men arrived and appearedimmensely surprised to find these Russian officers there with me ontheir horses. They asked me, each in turn, whether everything had beenarranged, and how much everyone was going to get, and where thetreasure was to be stored. There was, indeed, no end to theirquestions, and they said that they estimated that the sum seized wouldamount to about ten or twelve million francs. Later on, each man tookme aside, and explained what he had done to help the thing along, hoping that he would be remembered in the end, as this was a very bigaffair, and the more people in it the better. I confess I did notclearly understand all this; it was like floating a mining company. But I knew that most of these dear friends had been sitting shiveringinside the Legations while the sack was going on, because they had nowish to risk their lives; and now that they thought they could safelyearn an honest penny in a legitimate affair, they would stoop toanything!

We were soon such a huge cavalcade that I became nervous about thereception L---- would give us. The Russian officers, too, became moreand more drunk in the open air, and kept on saying that they hopedthere would be fighting, heavy fighting, for they felt just like it. Acharge was what they wanted, they said. No one could find out withwhom they proposed to fight, as the place we were going to was only astone's throw away, with not a Chinaman near and a couple of strongcompanies of Russian infantry inside. The officers became intenselyangry when everyone laughed, and said that although they were drunk, they were not like many people without stomachs about whom there hadbeen so much talk. That was a nasty home-blow for some of them. 

We found L---- ready enough; indeed, we had kept him waiting. He hadmost of his staff with him, and the usual escort of Cossacks standingby their horses, making it seem very official. Of course, L----became furious when he saw the big crowd of people, and asked whetherit was going to be a picnic. This word tickled one of the drunkenofficers so much, that suddenly he let his loose legs relapse andclapped his spurs into his animal, which reared horribly, and in theend sent him on the ground. I thought I should die of laughter. Theneverybody became more and more fussy, because they were afraid ofL----, but, fortunately, the general started off ahead, muttering tohimself, and we rode after him like some procession. It seemed to mevery absurd, and at that point I lost all confidence in the success ofthe expedition. Everyone had become too sanguine, and I fully believethat you cannot have any luck in such affairs with a crowd of idiots. Other people, who had no business to know of the affair, somehowmanaged to join us on the way, and when we reached the Board ofRevenue we numbered dozens of men, not including the escorts. 

There were about two companies of Russian infantry in occupationthere, as I have already said, and in the first halls we found armedguards superintending hundreds of small Chinese boys at work stringingtogether copper cash. There must have been millions and hundreds ofmillions of these worthless coins either piled up in great mountainsor scattered on the floors, and it would take months to sort them outand market them. It was the only thing the cunning Japanese had openlyleft!

L---- now called the officers of the guard, and explained to them thathe was about to seize secret treasure which had been so well hidden bythe Chinese that the Japanese had not been able to find it. He toldthem to give their assistance. The new officers, when they heardthis, looked so sharply at one another, that everyone began tocomment on it, and say that if there was nothing left they knew whowas guilty. It was becoming delightful. 

We started off in a body with the _ku-ping_, or treasury guards, whowere giving the information, leading us. They took us past a good manyhuge buildings that looked like grimy old warehouses, and then stoppedus short at one that appeared to be still barred and bolted. It tooksome time to open these doors, although the officers of the guard saidthat they had only been closed after they had taken over the placefrom the Japanese; and when we got inside it was so dark and dank thatwe could see nothing and could scarcely breathe. Candles had to belighted, and as they threw feeble flickers of light across the gloom, hideous bats began flying madly about, and dashing to the ground intheir fright great shreds of dusty cobwebs that must have beencenturies old. Nobody minded that, however; it seemed just the sort ofplace where millions could really be found in these prosaic days!

The thing was now interesting, if only from a psychological point ofview. .. . 

The _ku-ping_ advanced, without hesitation, and brought us to a highwooden paling which shut off one half of this immense hall from theother. Inside the paling, as far as we could see, there were justmountains of empty sacks--hundreds of thousands of them, evenmillions, I should think. 

But the paling was impassable. A small gate leading through it wasstill locked with a heavy Chinese padlock, and there was no key. Oneof the officers gave a wave of his hand, and a couple of the soldierswent out and reappeared with axes. In a few blows they had cleared abroad opening; the _ku-ping_ sprang through, and, like bloodhoundsthat scent a trail, ran swiftly up the steep slopes of the greatmasses of empty bags, looking eagerly about them. Then, finallycalculating aloud, they marked down a spot. They had located the exactplace where they would have to begin to work. They stripped themselvesto the waist with great rapidity, and, feeling that their reputationswere at stake, without any warning they were heaving away among thoseempty sacks like so many madmen. Faster and faster they worked, throwing away the sacks. Choking clouds of dust, now rising as if bymagic, filled the whole vast hall and drove us back coughing andgasping for air, until, fairly beaten, we had to stand outside. As ifthrough a thick vapour we could dimly see those men still working moreand more rapidly. I wondered how they could breathe. .. . 

In very few minutes, however, they also had had enough, but as theysprang down, and quickly gasping, sought the open air, they broughtwith them the end of a rope. They had evidently not only located theexact spot they were seeking, but had found the first trace which wasnecessary to make their search successful. Still, it was impossible tocontinue work in this way. It would take hours, at such a slow rate, to dig down beneath those mountains of old treasure-sacks. It wouldtake more hours to excavate or open up chambers beneath. So we held ashort consultation. There was but one thing to do. We must tear downone side of the building, so as to have more light, and to be able toput more men to work. No sooner decided on, than the thing was done, for in this work the Russians are supreme. They called in fatigueparties from the infantry companies in garrison, and telling them insimple language to break down one side of the building, in a fewmoments a wonderful scene began. I had seen some rapid work at shortintervals during the worst agony of the siege, but never have I seenmen who could handle the axe and the crowbar like these rudeinfantrymen. Everything went down under their blows--brickwork, woodwork, stonework, iron stanchions, everything; and with a rapiditywhich seemed incredible, gaping spaces appeared. Soon, standingoutside, from a dozen different points, you could see the Chineseinformants inside at work again, in those clouds of choking dust, thrashing up and down, like men possessed. 

But energy is not sufficient for some things. Three men wereattempting the work of a hundred. We must have more hands. 

This time the dozens of small boys stringing cash in the outercourtyards were called in and told to fall to; and forming lines whichoddly resembled those made by firemen, they were soon bundling out theempty sacks to the open at the rate of thousands a minute. Faster andfaster they worked, as if the same frenzy had spread to them; widerand wider moved the rings of floating dust, until they hung high aboveeverything and made the day seem dull and threatening. Then suddenlythe _ku-ping_ inside gave a shout. They had got low enough for thetime being--they wanted to be able to see. The squads of sweatingsoldiers and the dozens of grimy little boys desisted and stoodopen-eyed to see what was to follow. They were beginning to appreciatethe significance of it all. 

We waited patiently and watched the great clouds melt away and settleon our clothes and silt into our eyes; and then finally, when it wasclearer, a man inside struck a match, lit a candle and handed it downinto a great hole which had been dug through the very centre of thesedecade-old bullion coverings. How deep the hole was I could not see, but the three men slipped in and were entirely lost to our view. 

They seemed a long time down there without giving a single sign ormaking any noise, and we all became a little nervous. Perhaps thething was really miscarrying. Soon I felt certain that it hadmiscarried, and bitterly regretted taking the matter in hand. Then oneman came up gruntingly and began cursing and swearing as soon as hesaw us. He did that because he was afraid. I feared the worst. On hisshoulders there was one single great lump of silver and nothing else, and as he clambered out to where we stood he tilted it with a dullthud to the ground, and said sullenly that that was the only thingleft, and that others had been there before us. He repeated thisseveral times, so that there should be no mistake; there was only thisenormous piece of silver and nothing else. The smile's lefteverybody's face. Never have I seen such a sudden change. However, tome it was _kismet_. .. . 

In some trepidation we at length approached L---- and told him what hadbeen said, and then there was another storm. He said that it wasimpossible--that there must be some mistake--that the men had saidthat the bullion was there, and there it must be. As he spoke hisanger rose again, and coming up and kicking the massive silver ingot, he asked again and again in a few words of French, which I believe hehad learned especially for the occasion, "_Mais ou est l'or? mais ouest l'or?_" It was almost pitiful to hear him repeat these words againand again like a child. He believed we were cheating him. .. . 

The position had now become suddenly ridiculous, and I did not knowwhat to do. Everyone soon took up L----'s attitude, and felt thatthey had been cheated by some one. Indeed, they acted as if they hadlost valued possessions. They all clambered around me, and said thatit was disgraceful, and that something should be done to punish themen who had brought the false information. They became so excited thatit was necessary to create a diversion by going down into that holeourselves to see exactly what it meant. That proved the last straw. 

It was the dirtiest and most uncomfortable descent I have ever made. Sliding down through those piles of sacks led one to a false floor, some planks of which had been forced up by the Chinese informants. Beneath this was a short ladder, and, stepping down, one found one'sself in an immense underground chamber. The air was so thick and dankhere that it was almost impossible to breathe, and in the flickeringlight of the candles we could just see a confused mass of chests andboxes ranged round. Everyone of these had been battered open. Thecunning Japanese must have been there first and taken everything. Alone that big lump of silver had been left because of its weight. 

But there was something I missed. These _ku-ping_ had been emphaticabout the valuable weights we would find hidden--the standard weightsof China in pure gold, which were centuries old, they said, and werethe same as had been used during the Ming dynasty hundreds of yearsbefore. I asked for them--where were they kept? Perhaps we might atleast have these. 

Alas! they led me to a smaller chamber, with a curious little doorformed of a single slab of stone, and pointed once againdisconsolately to more rifled boxes. These outer chests coveredsmaller boxes, which were of the size of the weights themselves. I hadalways heard that the biggest weight of all was a square block of goldequal to the weight of a full-grown man. I would like to have seenthat, but everything was gone. It was useless wasting any more time. 

We came up again carrying some of those silk-lined boxes asexplanations and souvenirs. But our friends were now all standinground some soldiers, who had accidentally knocked aside some flags ofstone, and had found a deep hole underneath. They were now jerkingaway violently at some last obstruction, and finally they swept asideeverything and bared some steep steps. As we stood wondering what hadbeen discovered, and our hopes were almost revived, far down belowappeared a grimy face, and a man at last ran up, rapidly exclaimingfrom surprise, as he mounted to the surface. It was one of our Chineseinformants! Then suddenly we saw the point, and in spite of ourdiscomfiture began laughing. The soldiers of the fatigue parties, slower than us to understand, at length followed our example; then thehundreds of small Chinese boys; then everyone else, until we were alllaughing. For we had been fooled and well fooled by those cleverlittle Japanese. When they had seized the Treasury, they had not onlydiscovered the general stores of silver, but had managed to find thishidden entrance or some other near by. Without any trouble they hadgone down and taken everything, swept the place clean, and left, probably as a supreme sarcasm, that one enormous lump of blackenedsilver. .. . We were indeed well sold. It was immense. 

At that particular moment I do not think any one was very bitter atthis absurd anti-climax after those great expectations. That is, excepting the old general. Somehow, he became convinced by ourpreparations that there would be much gold found as a just reward. Nowonce again he accused us all of making a fool of him, of knowing fromthe beginning that it was a wild-goose chase. I thought sarcasticallyabout his telegram and the desire he had had in the first place tohaggle about the terms; and I let him mutter on. It is always the onewho laughs last who laughs best. I made a little plan. 

We retired from the Chinese Treasury with rather indecent haste. L----did not even look at the guard which turned out as we passed theentrance. When we had entered they had hurrahed him, and hoped thathis health was good, in a chorus after their custom; and he had made alittle speech in return, trusting that his children were also well! Itwas amusing if you happened to be able to appreciate that kind of wit. Most of my companions, however, did not. And yet with the clouds ofdust which had settled on us and covered us from head to food withdirt it was impossible to look even dignified with success. And all myfriends, who had been so cordial and admiring in the morning, how coldand distant they had become! They had not made anything--was not thata sufficient excuse for any behaviour?

Somehow news of this expedition must have leaked out everywherethrough the indiscretion of confident busybodies, until everybody knewabout it, for we kept on meeting men riding across our road as if bychance, and asking what luck we had had. This made the companions Ihad gathered more furious than ever, and at the last moment, as weparted, I could not restrain myself. I rode up to one of the staffofficers who had been the most officious and the most offensive, andbegged him not to forget to remind the general that he had a duty toperform. An account must be telegraphed at once to Alexieff! That wasthe last word--the very last. 

VIII

THE PALSY REMAINS

September, 1900. 

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I have now ridden to every point of the compass in the city, and evenbeyond, and I have inspected everything with a critical eye. It iswonderful how things shape themselves. There are now some portions ofthe city that are reasonably peaceful even at night, and where evenwomen can come forth and walk openly about; others that are quiet onthe surface and yet throw up mad things at all hours; and lastly, there are those where riot and disorder still reign supreme. Somepeople estimate that half or even three quarters of the nativepopulation have fled, and that this accounts for the curious silencewhich now reigns, only to be broken by the noise of marauders ormarching troops. Yet I do not believe that so many of the populationhave really fled; many people remain half hidden in quiet spots, where, packed dozens and dozens in a single house, they tremulouslyawait the return to happier days. The Chinese, I sometimes think, ofall peoples of this earth must have their historic sense enormouslydeveloped. Thousands of years of civil wars and countless endlesssieges have placed them in the dilemma of to-day more often than it ispossible to say. Only fifty years ago the Taipings made wholeprovinces suffer the way Peking has now suffered. .. . Such things mustlive in the blood of a people and never be quite forgotten. .. . 

You muse like this very often when you ride out and meet lumberingmilitary trains going back to Tientsin, laden with countless chests ofloot. What immense quantities of things have been taken! Every placeof importance, indeed, has been picked as clean as a bone. Now thatthe road is well open, dozens of amateurs, too, from the ends of theearth have been pouring in to buy up everything they can. The armieshave thus become mere bands of traders eternally selling orexchanging, comparing or pricing, transporting or shipping. Every manof them wishes to know whether there is a fortune in a collection ofold porcelain or merely a competence, and whether it is true that along robe of Amur River sables, when the furs are perfect and undyed, fetch so many hundreds of pounds on the London market. There areofficial military auctions going on everywhere, where huge quantitiesof furs and silks and other things come under the hammer. Yet it isnoticed that the very best things always disappear before they can bepublicly sold. A phrase has been invented to meet the case. "_Cherchezle general_, " people say. 

Even with these sales the stocks never seem to sink lower. There arealways fresh finds being made--seizures made officially by an officeror two with a few files of men so that there may be some reasonableexcuse to offer to those who persist in remaining mulishly prudish. These new finds are, of course, called treasures-trove. They are goodwords. Looting has officially ceased; is, indeed, forbidden under themost severe penalties. That is why it is being systematised and madeopen and respectable. It is in the blood. You cannot escape it; itstill follows you everywhere, no matter how far away you go. 

Listen to this. I rode some days ago into the Imperial city in orderto climb the famous Mei Shan, or Coal Hill, built, according toancient tradition, so that when some immense disaster overwhelmed theruling dynasty, it might be lighted and consume in its flames thewhole Imperial family. That is the tradition--that the hill is animmense funeral pyre. (Nowadays, however, ruling dynasties are sohuman that they merely run away. ) All the way up that historic hill Iwas followed by the whining voices of disappointed looters. Abattalion of the French troops, which came straight from Europe a weekor so too late for the relief, was in garrison at the base of thiseminence, and French soldiers escorted me to the top, probably underorders to see that I did not try and chip off the gold-leaf which isreputed to line the roofs of the pavilions. You can never be quitecertain for what reason you are watched by rival nationalities now. 

It was a long climb to the top, up winding steps that never ceased andthrough little pavilions which looked out on the scene below. A finalflight of stairs at last introduced you into a structure which crownedthe whole. From here the view was magnificent. Right below youcould see far into the Palace and inspect the marble bridges, thelotus-covered sheets of water and all the other things of the Imperialplaisaunce. Farther on, the city of Peking spread out in huge expanseshemmed in only miles away by the grey tracing of the city walls andthe high-standing towers. Farther again were waving fields with uncutcrops rotting as they stood, because all the country people had fledto escape the vengeance. On the very horizon line were dark hills. Theview was indeed immense and wonderful. 

I stood lost a little in this contemplation, and forgot theattendants who had so persistently followed me, until suddenly theirvoices rose in a dispute which was purposely loud so that it shouldengage my attention. At last, as the stratagem had failed, and I didnot turn, a soldier bolder than his comrades pushed up to me, andsaluting politely enough, said that they had a few things to sell, although they had had hard luck and had found Peking almost empty. Indeed, before showing me anything, they complained bitterly of themen from Tonkin, who were no better than disciplinary battalions andwho got everything because they had come with the first columns. Thisthey called cruelly unjust. Then from their pockets and tunics thesemen began producing their little _articles de vertu_. They made melaugh at first, for they had systematised so much that each man'spossession had a ticket attached, with the price in francs clearlymarked. That was good commercialism brought straight from France. 

They were, however, only the usual things--watches, rings, snuff-boxes, hair-ornaments, curios of minor value, and a few stonesof bad colour. But the men crowded round me and extolled their wareslike the hucksters of Europe, and beseeched me to buy in a mostanxious manner. They would sell cheap, very cheap, they confessed, atthe present moment, because they had just learned that an order hadbeen issued to search all their kits and to turn over the finds to acommon fund. Rumours had spread to Europe, they said--it was the firstI had heard of it--of the dark things which had been going on, and thegenerals were becoming alarmed. .. . 

Fortunately I had with me some gold coin, and for a mere song Ipurchased everything. I did not want to do so, but already experiencehas taught us that it is best to buy when you are alone and no helpnear by, otherwise your pockets may be turned out and everything takenwithout an excuse. That happened to a man in the German Legation. 

I climbed down from the famous Coal Hill, thinking very little of therenowned view. I wondered merely when it was all going to end, and hownormal conditions were going to come. I wandered, thinking in thismanner, over the famous marble bridge, that delicate, delightfultracing of stone which so charmingly crosses an artificial lake thickwith swaying lotus. I turned this way and that, not thinking very muchwhere I was going; and presently, on my way back, walked past theLittle Detached Palace, where, they say, the Emperor was imprisonedafter the 1898 _coup d'etat_. Here there was a curious sight, whichbrought back my wandering attention. French and English soldiersdivided the honour of guarding this Palace entrance. Rival sentriesstood only ten or fifteen feet away from one another and jealouslywatched to see that this prize was not secretly seized. The Britishregiment had the actual gates; it seemed that the French had postedthemselves so close merely to watch. I passed these lines of sentriesand wandered along, only to be accosted once more as soon as I was ina quiet alley. I soon found that this man and his mates were morecunning than those with whom I had had previously to deal and thatsome time must elapse before a bargain could be struck. They wastedtime ascertaining who I was, and only hinted at good things--not theusual watches and rings, they said, but really things worth theirweight in pure gold. Then one man tempted me deliberately with anabrupt movement which reminded me of the way the sellers of obsceneplaying-cards in Paris disclose to the unsuspecting stranger theirwares. He drew from his tunic a little wooden box, opened it quickly, and laid bare a most exquisite Louis XV. Gold belt-buckle, set indiamonds and rubies, and beautifully painted. I, who knew a little ofManchu history, understood that belt-buckle. It must have been one ofthe countless presents made during the early days of the Jesuits inPeking, when they almost controlled the destinies of the Empire. Itwas a priceless relic. 

Of course I succumbed. Such things have an international value, andwere not merely the sordid pickings from deserted private dwellings. Who would not rob a fleeing Emperor of his possessions?

After this we went into the English camp unostentatiously, and by somemeans men came forward from nowhere, and without greeting orsuperfluous words showed me what they had. The English are goodtraders; they never waste their words; and as I looked I thought ofthe anguish which the patrons of the Hotel Drouot or Christie's wouldhave felt could they have seen this marvellous collection. For thesecommon men had made one of such taste and value that there could be nodoubt where the things had been obtained. Every piece was good and acentury or two old. There were enamels and miniatures which must havelain undisturbed for countless years watching the Manchu Emperors comeand go. There were beautiful stones and snuff-boxes, and many otherthings. There might be none of the black pearls of General Monttauban, Comte de Palikao, that had delighted the Empress Eugenie half acentury ago, but there were _objets de vertu_ such as duchesses love. 

In the end, I, too, became commercial and arranged that some menshould come and find me that same evening, bringing as much as theycould carry of the spoils they had amassed. They were to be paid ingold coin or in gold bars just as I pleased, weight for weight, and aquarter in my favour. That was soon settled. In the evening the menduly came, not the few I had supposed, but so many that they filled mycourtyards, yet managing to remain curiously, silent. For them animportant turning-point had been reached; they would make smallfortunes if the thing went through successfully. With scales in frontof me and gold alongside, we weighed and calculated unendingly--weightfor weight, with that one quarter in my favour. It took two hours andmore, for these common men were very careful, and everything had to bewritten down and recorded with strange marks and numbers, denoting theprivate division of profits which would afterwards follow. In the endeverything was finished with and bought. Then the men stood up andshook themselves as if they had been bathed in a perspiration ofanxiety, and the spokesman, a dark man with a quick tongue, whichshowed that he had not always been a soldier, thanked me curtly. Whenthey had drunk, at my request, he explained to me how it was done. There was something dramatic in the way he described. It was sosimple. I recorded what he said so as not to forget. "When it's dark"he said, in a low voice, with no introduction, "there's only thepicquets. They have everything to themselves excepting that theFrenchies are just alongside. The Frenchies watch us close, but wewatch them closer, and there's always a way. Rounds are not kept upthe whole night, for everything is slack now, and when they arefinished the fun begins. The reliefs, lying on the ground, strip offeverything so that they can crawl like snakes and that no one can gethold of them. They crawl in through holes, over walls, with never amatch or a light to show them how. In the end they get inside. " Theman laughed a little hoarsely, spat, and again went on. 

"The palace they call the Little Detached Palace will soon be pickedclean--clean as any dog's bone, with the Frenchies only fifteen feetoff, and you'll get nothing more from there. Sometimes the Frenchiessuspect and want to march right in on us, but our corporals arewaiting, and are ready for them, and our bayonets stop them short. Twice it's happened that their officers march a guard right up to thegates of the Little Detached, and want to stay there all night withour fellows crawling about inside. They suspected. But we bluffed themaway every time, and now that all the good things are gone we arecarrying away the big ones--vases, small tables, carvings, jars, bowls--everything. We wrap them up in a bundle of great-coats andfeed-bags in the morning, and carry them away; no one's ever thewiser. All round the Palace they are doing the same. The Yankees, theRussians, and all of them are in the same boat. All night they climbthe walls to get the swag. Give them another six months and there willbe nothing left. "

Thus spoke the spokesman of the party. It was organised plundering, and everybody winked at it. After they had gone I sat long andreflected. This was the retribution and the vengeance. We were alltarred with the same brush; we were returning to primitive methods. Yet, what could be done--what steps could be taken? It was rather ahopeless tangle, and once more I gave it up. 

IX

DRIFTING

September, 1900. 

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There is not a single scrap of news worth recording, althoughtelegrams are now coming through more and more freely by the fieldtelegraphs from Europe. Still, no one knows what is going to happen. As an appreciation of the astute action of the Court in fleeing at thelast second of the eleventh hour becomes more and more general, peoplebegin to see how absurd we have become with our avenging armies whichwere going to do so much, and are now merely traders collecting andvaluing and slowly taking away the best loot of the capital. Thetroops effected the relief, it is true; but there should have beenother steps. If these are now taken it is too late. Some, indeed, saythat punitive expeditions are going to be sent into the country assoon as a transport service can be organised. Even now nests of Boxersand disbanded soldiers are reported in great numbers only a few milesbeyond Peking. These men seem to understand that they are quite safeeven so close as this to the European corps, and that ample warningwill be conveyed to them directly there is any movement, so as toallow them to escape. They, too, are now pillaging and setting firefar and wide. Cossacks and other cavalry are supposed to be out manymiles beyond Peking, sweeping the country, and blowing up or settingfire to temples and rich country-seats as a warning to others of thefate which may overtake all for harbouring evil-doers. Yet even thisis done on no system. It is irresolute, foolish. A day or two ago, from the top of the Tartar Wall, where I was idly sitting, I saw ahuge pillar of smoke roll up on the horizon ten or fifteen miles away, and gradually spread farther and farther. The air was very still, forthe heat can still be baking in the midday of this autumn month, andthat smoke hung on the skies like some funeral pall. Into the heartsof a whole country-side it must have struck a blind terror, for thepeasants still believe that they are all to die as soon as the troopsmove out. The panic is thus only being added to; and a sort of blindscourging of people who may not be in the least guilty can never be ofuse. There is also still the same palsy on everyone and everything inPeking. No one really knows what is going to happen. No one very muchcares. They say that this is being debated in Europe, and that thereare divided counsels which may bring about a split and really turn thevarious corps now nominally allied to one another into active enemies, as I dream when I see those jealous guards at the Palace entrances. .. . 

Yesterday some Chinese whom I had known in the old days camestealthily to see me, and as soon as they were alone with me, withoutexcuse or warning, they fell on their knees and began bitterlyweeping. How sad, indeed, they were, these respectable people of theChinese _bourgeoisie_--so sad that for a long time I could notpersuade them to speak. Yet even as they wept they were dignified in acurious way, and you felt that you were in the presence of men who hadonly been cruelly wronged. At length they began speaking. They hadlost everything, absolutely everything, they said, what with theBoxers and the sack, all this long, unending Reign of Terror. But thatthey did not mind. They were bitter and beyond consolation becausethey had lost the intangible--their honour. Each one had had women oftheir households violated. One, with many hideous details, told me how. .. Soldiers came in and violated all his womankind, young and old. That account, muttered to me with trembling lips, was no invention. Their blanched and haggard faces showed that it was only the truththey were speaking. About such elemental tragedies no one lies. 

I tried to comfort these poor men as best I could. I told them oldsayings which had once been familiar to me; it was hard to know reallywhat to do. Yet they at length became more philosophic, and said theyunderstood that this was a visitation which the nation had deserved. China had been utterly wrong; it had been madness. Then they remainedsilent, and that silence was like a sermon straight from Heaven, bothfor them and for me. I saw dimly for a few seconds many things, andunderstood that it was useless saying more. But as they werewretchedly poor, I gave them silver from the rich men's houses, whichseemed very Biblical--each man as much as he could carry--and toldthem that they could always come for more. I asked them also to tellall the people I had known to come, too; I would do as much as I couldfor all of them. So all to-day they have been coming, and I haveshowered largesse. A few households have thus some relief, but thelast man who came told me that a Hanlin scholar, who was hisneighbour--a learned man, who in the times of peace was courted byall--is now selling wretched little cakes down the side alleys so asto save himself and his few remaining relations from slow starvation. Such things are the dregs. It is too much. .. . 

X

PICKING UP THREADS

September, 1900. 

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I suppose in some subtle way the conviction is being gradually forcedhome that something must really be done to try and ameliorate thegeneral situation. It could obviously not go on forever in this way, with the commanders of the rival columns almost fighting amongthemselves, and with everybody quietly looting, and our Ministers, whohave lost so much, just twiddling their thumbs and delaying theirdeparture because they are afraid of worse things happening. Sosomebody has been getting into communication with whoever representsthe last vestiges of Chinese authority in this ruined capital, anddiligent search has discovered that there are actually a few highofficials left and a great number of smaller ones. These have allshown a trembling haste to oblige; and after some _pourparlers_, thereis now a faint possibility of a _modus vivendi_ being arranged duringthe next few weeks. 

For it soon transpired, after the confidence of these remainingofficials had been gained, that Prince Ching had been discreetlydropped by the fleeing Court only about fifty miles to the southwestof Peking--dropped just behind the first mountain barriers, so that hewas at once safe and yet within easy call. He had been in waitingthere for weeks, it appears. Sage old man! Those conciliatorydespatches, coming from the officers of the defunct Tsung-li Yamen, have made of this old Manchu prince the natural person to bridge overthe ever-widening gulf the Court has dug by its insanity. Peopleremember now that this procedure of leaving behind a Prince to beginthe first _pourparlers_ is only the precedent of 1860. Then PrinceKung played exactly the same _role_ when the Court had fled to Jehol. 

Prince Ching fenced a long time before he would move forward, or evendisclose his safe hiding-place; but in the end he was prevailed uponby some one. And yesterday he actually entered Peking through the sameNorthern Gates which witnessed the mad flight of the Court a monthago. 

Many rode out to see this entry, half expecting something spectacular, which would give them a change of thought. But they were grievouslydisappointed. Prince Ching merely appeared in a sedan chair, lookingvery old and very white, and with his _cortege_ closely surrounded byJapanese cavalry, whose drawn swords gave the great man the appearanceof a prisoner rather than that of an Envoy. Every Chinese official, large and small, in the city came out on this occasion for the firsttime since the troops burst in; and sitting in what carts they couldfind, and clothed in the remains of their official clothes, they paidtheir Manchu dignitary their trembling respects. What terror thesewretched men exhibited until they actually met the Prince, and sawthat there was going to be no treachery of shooting down by ignorantsoldiery! For a whole month everyone of them had been livingdisguised in the most humble clothes, escaping over back wallsdirectly news was brought that marauders were at their front doors;offering their very women up so as to escape themselves; living inall truth the most wretched lives. Hourly they had expected to bedenounced by enemies to the European commanders as ex-Boxer chiefs, and then to be summarily shot. That is what had happened for milesround Monseigneur F----'s cathedral, it is being whispered. The nativeCatholics, having died in hundreds, and lost whole families ofrelatives, had revenged themselves as cruelly as only men who havebeen between life and death for many weeks do. They had led Frenchsoldiers into every suspected household, and pointing out the man onwhom rumour had fixed some small blame, they had exacted vengeance. Even on this day of Prince Ching's entry this search and revenge wasstill going on; there were so many scores to pay. .. . 

It was plain to me that every official was thinking of these things, for the little convoys that I watched all day wending their way to thenorth of the city represented petrified fear in forms that I hope Imay never see again. I stopped one cart, all bedecked withflags--German flags, English flags, Russian flags, French flags, Japanese flags, every kind of flag, to help to protect from allpossible injury--merely to inquire at what hour precisely Prince Chingwould arrive and where he was going to live. What a result thesequestions had! Instantly he heard my voice, the official inside thecart crawled half out with a deathly green pallor on his face, andwith his whole body trembling so violently that I thought he wouldcollapse for good. As it was, he remained in a sort of strickenattitude, like a man who has been stunned. He was quite speechless. Icalled to him several times that all was well, that he would not behurt, to calm himself. .. . In vain. Every word I spoke only added tohis terror and remained unintelligible because of his panic. He was alost soul--for ever. The iron had entered too deeply. He was sosmitten that he never could be cured. 

His outriders, who had swung themselves from their saddles, at lastbowed to me. They were a little pale, but quite collected. "Excellency, " they said, "forgive him; it is not his fault. He hasbeen frightened into semi-insanity. " "_Hsia hu-tu-lo, "_ they said. Yes, that is the phrase, frightened into semi-lunacy. They areemploying this for everyone. The tragedy has been so immense, thestrain has been endured for so many months, there has been so much ofit, that all minds excepting those of the common people have become alittle unhinged. Half the time you speak to men you are notunderstood; they look at you with staring eyes, wondering whether therifle or the bayonet is to follow the question. It is past curing forthe time being. 

Meanwhile Prince Ching has got in safely, and has been given a bigresidence, which is closely guarded by the Japanese. Perhaps the_modus vivendi_ will after all be arranged. 

XI

THE IMPOSSIBLE

30th September, 1900. 

 * * * * *

Prince Ching has been here a number of days now--I have not even takenthe trouble to note how many--but still nothing has been done. Theysay that half the Powers refuse to treat with him until things arebetter arranged, and that the Russians have already raised insuperabledifficulties because they say the Japanese have the big Manchu intheir pocket. Others argue that expeditions must really be launchedagainst a number of cities in Northern China, where hideous atrocitieshave been committed, and where missionaries and converts werebutchered in countless numbers during the Boxer reign. Until theseexpeditions have marched and had their revenge, there can be notreating. There must be more killing, more blood. That is what peoplesay. 

The fleeing Court has reached Taiyuanfu, it is reliably reported. Thisis three hundred miles away, but the Court does not yet feel safe; itis going farther west, straight on to Hsianfu, the capital of Shensiprovince, which is seven hundred miles away. That is a big gulf tobridge; yet if there is any advance of European corps in thatdirection, already Chinese say that the Empress will flee into theterribly distant Kansu province--perhaps to Langchou, which is anotherfour hundred miles inland; perhaps even to Kanchau or Suchau, whichare five hundred miles nearer Central Asia. These cities, lying atthe very southwestern extremity of the Great Wall of China, look outover the vast steppes of Mongolia, where there are nothing but Mongolsbelonging to many hordes, who live in the saddle and drive theirflocks of sheep and their herds of ponies in front of them, forevermoving. It is nearly two thousand miles in all; no European armiescould ever follow, not in five years. They would slowly melt away onthat long, interminable road. With such a line of retreat open theCourt is absolutely safe, and knows it. It can act as it pleases. 

Prince Ching is so miserably poor, they say, and has so little of thethings he most needs, that he has been forced to borrow looted _sycee_from corps commanders and to give orders on the Southern Treaty portsin payment. It is an extraordinary situation. 

A number of little expeditions have already been pushed out forty, fifty and even sixty miles into the country, feeling for any remnantsof the Chinese armies which may remain. I went with one of these_faute-de mieux_, as Peking has become so gloomy, and there is solittle to do that it fills one with an immense nostalgia to remain andcontinually to contemplate the ruins and devastation, from which therecan be no escape. 

Never shall I regret that little expedition into the rude hills andmountains, where climbs in wonderful manner the Great Wall of China. It was divine. There was a sense of freedom and of openness which noone who has not been a prisoner in a siege can ever experience. In themorning sweet-throated cavalry trumpets sounded a reveille, whichfloated over hill and dale so chastely and calmly that one wished theymight never stop. How those notes floated and trembled in the air, asgrey daylight was gently stealing up, and how good the brown earthsmelt! I almost forget the other kind of trumpet--that cruel Chinesetrumpet which only shrieks and roars. 

Each day we rode farther and farther away, and higher and higher, beating the ground and examining the villages, from which wholepopulations had fled, to see that no enemy was secretly lurking. Travelling in this wise, and presently climbing ever higher andhigher, we came at last to little mountain burgs, with great thickouter walls and tall watch-towers, where in olden days the maraudersfrom the Mongolian plains were held in check until help could besummoned from the country below. It was a wonderful experience totravel along unaccustomed paths and to come on endless ruined bastionsand ivy-clad gates, which closed every ingress from Mongolia. Oncethese defences must have been of enormous strength. 

One night, after journeying for a long time, we camped in one of theselittle mountain burgs, taking full possession, so that there should beno treachery while it was dark. The night passed quietly, for evenfifty miles beyond Peking the terror lies heavy on the land, and inthe morning we wandered to the massive iron-clad gates and the tallwatch-towers which stood sentinel on either side to see if there wasanything to be had. How old these were, how very old! For, mountingthe staircase leading to the towers, we found that, although the ruderooms beneath showed signs of having been recently occupied, the stonesteps which led to the roof-chambers were covered with enormouscobwebs and great layers of dust, showing that nothing had beendisturbed for very many years. That was as it should be. At the verytop of one tower we discovered a locked door, and beating it in amidshowers of dust, we penetrated a room such as a witch of mediaevalEurope would dearly have loved. Nothing but cobwebs, dust, flapping, grey-yellow paper and decay. It was immensely old. 

And yet we found something. For there were some chests hidden away, and prizing these open, we discovered great books of yellow parchment, so old and so sodden that they fell to pieces as soon as one touchedthem. They were in some Mongol or Manchu script. They, too, werecenturies old. But there was something else--a great discovery. Beneath the books we found helmets, inlaid with silver and gold andembellished with black velvet trappings studded with little ironknobs. There were also complete suits of chain armour. It seemed to usin that early morning that we were suddenly discovering the MiddleAges, perhaps even the Dark Ages. For these things were not even earlyManchu; they were Mongol; Mogul--the war-dress of conquerors whosebodies had been rotting in the dust for five, six, seven, eight, oreven nine centuries. These relics had lain there undisturbed for allthis time because China has been merely tilling the fields andneglecting everything else. In a curious mood we donned these suitsand went down below clad as the conquerors of old. 

There were some Indian troopers waiting, and when they saw thesethings they exclaimed and muttered excitedly to one another, castinghalf-startled looks. These were the same trappings and war-dresses asin the days of the Great Moguls at Delhi. The very same. Theconquerors who had swept across high Asia had worn such things, andevery man from Northern India must have understood their meaning andmessage. As they looked the Indian troopers chattered and talked toone another in a growing excitement. It seemed as if we had suddenlydug up some links of the half-forgotten past which showed how thechain of armed men had been tightly bound by Genghis Khan and BatuKhan, and all the other great Khans, from the Great Wall of China allround Northern and Central Asia, until it had reached down over theHimalayas into India. It was very curious. 

When we had finished this reconnaissance, which carried us in everydirection under the shadow of the Great Wall, we turned bridle andmade back towards Peking by another route. A day's march away from thecapital, word was brought us that there were still numbers ofdisbanded soldiery and suspected Boxers hiding in the Nan-Hai-tsu--agreat Imperial Hunting Park, which had fallen into decay during thepresent century. We would have to sweep this park, which was dozens ofmiles broad and quite wild, and scatter any bands we might find. Sostarting after midnight, we marched hard in the gloom for severalhours with native guides leading us, and daylight found us under theencircling wall of the ancient hunting-ground. We halted there a bitand refreshed ourselves quickly, and then galloped in through abreach. There were miles upon miles of beautiful grass stretches, andwe and our mounts were fairly pumped before we saw or heard anything. But towards midday we came on some tiny hills and a few low buildings, which seemed suspicious, and no sooner had we approached than a wholenest of men rushed out on us, firing and shouting as they ran. Somehad only huge lances made of bamboo, fifteen feet and more long, andtipped with iron and with little red pennons fluttering; yet thesewere the most effective of all. Waving these lances violently, andholding them in such a manner that it was impossible to get near, these men scattered our charge before it got home and unhorsed anumber of troopers. Then it became a general _melee_, which ended inthe killing or capture of a few of the enemy and the rapid escape ofthe remainder. 

Very late in the evening we rode into Peking with our helmets and ourcoats of mail and our long lances as trophies. The capital seemedterribly listless and oppressed after the country beyond, and I wasbitterly sorry that expedition had not lasted for weeks and months. 

XII

SUSPENSE

October, 1900. 

 * * * * *

Another month has come and there has been practically no change. Theysay now Prince Ching has no power to treat, and that he is a mereJapanese prisoner. Li Hung Chang is in Tientsin, too, it appears. Heis to be the other plenipotentiary when negotiations really commence, but for the time being he is the Russian captive. The Russians havehim surrounded with their troops, and no one but a favoured few mayeven see him. Already there has been trouble with the British on thisscore at Tientsin, and some people say that some pretext will beseized to bring about an international crisis among the expeditionarycorps. They are fighting about the destroyed railway up to Pekingalready. Various people are claiming the right to rebuild the line, and refuse to give up the sections they have garrisoned. Everywherethere are pretty complications in the air. 

Meanwhile, in Peking itself things have become more and more quiet, and as the policing is slowly improving, confidence is a littlerestored. But still new troops are being marched in all thetime--notably German troops--and as soon as night closes down allthese men fall to looting and outraging in any way they can. They saythat the Kaiser, in his farewell speech to his first contingent, before Peking had been heard of for weeks, told the men to act inthis way. They are strictly obeying orders. Even the officers of thenew troops take a hand in this looting in a modified way. They forcetheir way into the remains of the curio shops, take the few pieceswhich are left, place a dollar or so on the counter and then walk out. This makes a legitimate purchase. 

In the Japanese district, which is now the best policed and the mosttranquil, shops are being reopened, but are now being panic-strickenby this new procedure. It is the refinement of the game, and there isno redress possible. Beyond this I know not of a thing worth thementioning. 

XIII

STILL DRIFTING

October, 1900. 

 * * * * *

There is, after all, to be no immediate peace--that seems now quitecertain. We hear that the Russians have invaded all Manchuria and arestrengthening their hold there by bringing in more and more troopsfrom the Amur districts. They say, too, that the French have crossedthe Tonkin frontier. But really accurately we know nothing very muchof what is being done. With sixty or seventy thousand soldierysuddenly flung down on the ruined stretch of country between Pekingand the sea, everything has been put in the most horrible confusion. You can get nothing, nor hear anything. Telegrams are the only thingswhich are coming through with any regularity, and even these are cutto pieces by the field telegraphs or continually getting lost. Themails, it is true, have at last arrived, but they are all mixed insuch a way, and there is such old correspondence heaped on top of thenew, that general instructions and the proposals made read in this wayseem to be the ravings of madmen. There are hundreds of despatches ofApril, May and June, showing the calibre of some Foreign Offices in anunmistakable way. I sometimes wonder if only the fools are left in thehome offices. 

Still, after a good many headaches, one can begin to appreciate thegeneral plan which was finally settled on by the various_Chancelleries_, and to understand what delayed the relief so much. Most of all it has been the South African war. Also, is seems to me, they wanted Waldersee, the German Field Marshal, to have time to takeover the supreme command for the sake of peace in Asia, and so thatthere should be an enormous massed advance on Peking, which wouldcapture all North China to Christendom and enslave the cunning oldEmpress Dowager, and do everything as arranged in Europe. It was, above all, necessary not to cause an imbroglio in Europe. 

Of course, the very opposite has happened, and everybody is now asdiscontented and jealous as before the siege. Waldersee is in Tientsinand has been there for weeks for some new decision to be made. Thegrand advance is finished and done with, but now some columncommanders wish to push down into the south of the province andisolate the Court, if possible. Meetings are being held the wholetime, but as Waldersee is coming up, nothing is to be done until hisarrival. By one ingenious stroke--the sudden flight of the Court--theChinese have turned the tables on allied Europe and made us allridiculous. Any one might have anticipated something of this--there isa precedent in the histories. Yet history is only made to beimmediately forgotten. 

XIV

PUNITIVE EXPEDITIONS

October, 1900. 

 * * * * *

At length Waldersee has arrived. He made a sort of entry which seemedto me farcical. I only noticed that he was very old, and that the hatsthat have been served out to the special German expeditionary corpsare absurd. They are made of straw and are shaped after the manner ofthe Colonial hats used in South Africa. They have also a cockade ofthe German colours sewn to the turned-up edge. This must be someBerlin tailor's idea of an appropriate head-dress for a summer andautumn campaign in the East. The hat is quite useless, and had it beena month earlier all the men would certainly have died of sunstroke. 

Of course, now with Waldersee in Peking, something more has to bedone, and the rumour is to-day that the Court has begun fleeing yetfarther to the West. The rulers of China are being kept accuratelyinformed of every move by some one, and any indication of a pursuitwill see them penetrate farther and farther towards the vast regionsof Central Asia. It seems to me that it would be almost amusing (wouldnot the consequences be so tragic) to begin this pursuit and really toattempt to push the Court so far away that it finally lost touch withall the rest of China. Then something beneficial to everyone mightcome. An ultimatum, to which attention would be paid, might beserved, and guarantees exacted which would do service for a number ofyears. At present the flight has done no harm whatever to China. TheCourt is not even ridiculous in the eyes of the populace. It is merelyterribly unfortunate--a really luckless Court, which deserves to becommiserated with and wept over rather than upbraided. For it is plainto everyone that the first and last reason for all this is theforeigner and no one else. Everything the foreigner does is always asource of trouble. 

Even the machinery of government has not been disturbed by the factthat vast Peking, the vaunted capital, is in the hands of ruthlessinvaders. At first everyone thought that with the Palace empty, andall the great Boards and offices made mere camping-places forthousands of hostile soldiery, the government of the whole empirewould be paralysed--sterilised. Yet that has not happened. Thegovernment goes on much the same as ever. We know that now. For as theCourt flees it issues edicts, receives reports and accounts, is metwith tribute from provincial governors and viceroys, is clothed andbanqueted, makes fresh appointments, does its day's work while itruns. I cannot understand, therefore, how this is to end. It is beyondthe keenest intellects in Peking, and people are now simply waitingfor things to happen and to accept facts as they may be dealt out bythe Fates. It is an inevitable policy. For you must always acceptfacts when you cannot mould them. 

XV

THE CLIMAX

October, 1900. 

 * * * * *

I am becoming tired of it all once again--inexpressibly tired. Itseems to me at times now as if those of us who remain had been verysick, and then, when we had become convalescent, had been ordered bysome cruel fate to remain sitting in our sick-rooms forever. A siegeis always a hospital--a hospital where mad thoughts abound and wheremad things are done; where, under the stimulus of an unnaturalexcitement, new beings are evolved, beings who, while having theoutward shape of their former selves, and, indeed, most of the oldoutward characteristics, are yet reborn in some subtle way and are nolonger the same. 

For you can never be exactly the same; about that there is no doubt. You have been made sick, as it were, by tasting a dangerous poison. Great soldiers have often told their men after great battles have beenfought and great wars won that they have tasted the salt of life. Thesalt of life! Is it true, or is it merely a mistake, such aslife-loving man most naturally makes? For it can be nothing but thesalt of death which has lain for a brief instant on the tongue ofevery soldier--a revolting salt which the soldier refuses to swallowand only is compelled to with strange cries and demon-like mutterings. Sometimes, poor mortal, all his struggles and his oaths are in vain. The dread salt is forced down his throat and he dies. The veryfortunate have only an acrid taste which defies analysis left them. Ofthese more fortunate there are, however, many classes. Some, becausethey are neurotic or have some hereditary taint, the existence ofwhich they have never suspected, in the end succumb; others do notentirely succumb, but carry traces to their graves; yet others do notappear to mind at all. It is a very subtle poison, which may liehidden in the blood for many months and many years. I believe it is aterrible thing. 

Nobody should have been allowed to stay behind after hearing for somany weeks that ceaseless roar, sustaining that endless strain, enduring so much. They should have been made to forget--by force. 

And yet even this nobody understands or cares to speak of, although anumber of men are still half mad. The newcomers, soldiers andcivilians alike, who never cease streaming in now to gaze and gape andinquire how it was all done, are quite indifferent. Some say that itmust have been an immense farce--that there was really nothing worthspeaking about. Others wish to know curious details which have nogeneral importance. The Englishmen are proud, and want to know whetheryou were inside the British Legation, their Legation, and when theyhave heard yes or no their interest ceases. They little know what theLegation stood for. The Americans march up to the Tartar Wall, talkabout "Uncle Sam's boys, " and exclaim that it requires no guessing totell who saved the Legations. The French are the same, so are theGermans, so even the Italians. Only the Japanese and the Russians saynothing. 

At first I was at some pains to explain to each separate man whatreally occurred. I pulled out my rough map, all thumb-marked anddirtied with brick chips and the soil of the trenches, and showedstage by stage how the drama unrolled. It was no good. Poor me! nobodyquite understood. Some thought possibly that I was a glib liar; othersdid not even trouble to think anything. How much they understood! Theyhad not the background, the atmosphere, the long weeks which werenecessary to teach even us ourselves. They had not tasted the poisonand did not yet suspect its existence. So I gradually desisted. Now Isay nothing, never a word. I listen and understand how history ismade. It is best never to explain or argue if you thoroughlyunderstand. Rhetoric is only the amplification of something longunderstood in one's heart of hearts. 

I am, therefore, tired of it all, inexpressibly tired. I wish toescape from my hospital, to go away to some clean land where theyunderstand so little of such things that their indifference will inthe end, perhaps, convince me and make me forget. 

Yet can one ever forget?

XVI

THE END

November, 1900. 

 * * * * *

Another month, and I have made up my mind quite suddenly. I havefinished with it--at least, in outward form. After waiting a couple ofweeks and wondering what I should do, a last argument brought itabout--an argument with a German which ended by enraging me to animpossible point and making me challenge him to anything he liked. That showed me that my last safe moment had arrived. 

He was a youngish officer sent from the Field-Marshal's staff todiscuss some diplomatic-military details with my chief. The businesspart was soon over, for there was really little to decide, and thenthe man fell to talking about what should be done. He said that werethere not so much rivalry and jealousy, and could Waldersee only actas he wished, they would have proper punitive expeditions which wouldshoot all the headmen of every village for hundreds of miles, and makesuch an example of everybody that the memory would endure forgenerations in every district where there had been Boxers. The officerwas eloquent because he had only just arrived, and understoodnothing--absolutely nothing. For some reason our stars crossed and Ihated him immediately. So I waited until he had finished so that Icould begin. Then I began. 

I cannot even remember all I said, for I was greatly enraged by thebrutality of the man's ideas, but I treated him as he had never beentreated before. As I poured out my lava stream and he slowlyunderstood what I meant, he first became very red, and then very pale, and finally he stood up. I took advantage of that action, and since weall still are armed, I told him he could have satisfaction, at once ifhe wished, and at any number of paces he chose to name. 

My chief then suddenly intervened, and, trembling violently, said thatit could not go on--that it was a mistake. He took the blame on hisshoulders, he said, and would apologise himself later on. For manyminutes he harangued, and in the end the officer went away with hiseyes glittering, but not too reluctantly. He knew that I could havekilled him with my second chamber unless his first shot hit myvitals. .. . 

After that there was a second scene--but one which was much morebrief. My chief attempted to deal with me, and to him I spoke my mind. I am afraid I said many things which were so brusque that modernsociety would have reproved me. I told him that it was well known thathe and every other man of position had been tremulously fearing deathat every turn for weeks, and had been unwilling to do anything whenthey might have really saved the situation; merely because they wereso afraid; that everything had been misstated in the reports, and thatalthough the full truth might not be known for years, eventually itwould be known and people would understand. I said that this pettylife created by men without stomachs had ended by disgusting me, andthat I had finished with it for good and for ever. Then I went out insilence, slamming the door behind me with all the strength of myarms. It was a most enormous slam. It had to be so; it was my lastword. In my commandeered residence I found that the breath ofmisfortune had also come. The rightful owners had managed to stealinto Peking in the train of some big official who had had an escort offoreign soldiery provided him, and now smilingly and cringinglygreeted me, and thanked me for my guardianship during theirunavoidable absence. The Manchu women were grouped round in greatexcitement. They did not relish the change--they did not want it. Thetall and stately one who had first touched my knee on that dark nightduring the sack was not there. 

The rightful owners irritated me intensely with their obsequiousness. I was irritated because they lived: they should have ceased to existlong ago. They were still very much afraid, although they had reachedPeking in safety, for they half thought that I would hand them over tosome provost-marshal as Boxer partisans in order to get rid of them. They were very afraid. The Manchu women were all talking and praisingme, and telling wonderful stories of all I had done. But the mostimportant one of them was absent. I became vaguely conscious that thisalso meant something, that perhaps there was to be another tragedy. Ifound her later wishing to kill herself, to commit suicide, so thatshe, too, need never return to her other life. .. . That was moreterrible than the other scenes. I could do nothing, yet myresponsibility had been great. In the end something was arranged. Ihardly remember what. 

I was soon ready to go; on the same afternoon I had completed all mypreparations. I had so little to prepare. Then I rode out for the lasttime with all my men behind me, and not a single other person. Wepassed down the streets out from the Tartar City, through the ruins ofthe great Ch'ien Men Gate, and then followed straight along the vastmain street, still covered with _debris_ and dirt, and skulls andbroken weapons, as if the weeks and months which had gone by since thefighting had been quite unheeded. Near the outer gates of the city Imet my three cavalrymen of the Indian regiment waiting to bidgood-bye. They joined me with some attempt at gaiety, but that soonfizzled out. I had so plainly collapsed. 

We passed into the country with the tall crops still rotting as theystood, because everyone had fled and no one dared to return. We wenton faster and faster as the roads broadened, and as we galloped we metnew troops marching in on Peking. They were Germans driving captivesof many kinds in front of them. "Damned Germans, " said the smallerofficer, who was the senior, and who had been quite silent for sometime. "Damned Germans, " repeated the two others mechanically, as ifthis was a new creed, and I, approving, faintly smiled. That stirredthem to talk again, and they told me that the expeditions had beensettled on, and that they would have to go, too. Orders had come fromhome that they must not fall out with Waldersee. It was highlyimportant to placate the Germans because of South Africa. But theAmericans would not go, neither would the Russians, nor yet theJapanese. It was to be a new arrangement. They went on talking in thiswise for a long time, and I heard these scraps of conversation vaguelyas in a dream. Cynically I thought that, although I was leaving it allbehind me in company of men who were strangers to Peking, the lastwords would still be concerned with our tortuous diplomacy. Yet mygallant friends were only trying to console me--to make me forget. Such things they understood far better than others. They were fromIndia, where men think a good deal, and sometimes act. They weretreating me as best they could. Then when we came to a sharp rise overwhich the road curled and crawled, they halted suddenly, stretched outtheir hands, and bade me good-bye. They meant it to be a sharpwrench--to be over quickly. Just on the rim of the horizon stretchedthe grey of the fading Tartar Walls with their high-pitched towers. The sun sinking behind the western hills threw some last flames ofgolden fire, but the air remained chill. It was becoming cold, andeven the dust no longer rose in clouds. Everything was pinned to thesoil--tired--finished. .. . 

I rode on abruptly. Then, for the last time, my cavalrymen turnedround and shouted faintly back to me. It was a word which carriedwell. "Chubb, Chubb, Chubb, " they were shouting, to give my thoughts aturn. They knew what I must be thinking. They knew; they had been inIndia. I quickened my horse into a gallop, rode faster and faster, andbefore night had fallen I had gained the river-boats. It was over. .. . 

 * * * * * *

BOOKS BY PUTNAM WEALE

Political

MANCHU AND MUSCOVITE

THE RE-SHAPING OF THE FAR EAST(2 volumes)

THE TRUCE IN THE EAST AND ITS AFTER-MATH

THE COMING STRUGGLE IN EASTERN ASIA

THE CONFLICT OF COLOUR

THE TRUTH ABOUT CHINA AND JAPAN

THE PAGEANT OF PEKING(In collaboration with Donald Mennie)

Romantic

INDISCREET LETTERS FROM PEKING

THE FORBIDDEN BOUNDARY

THE HUMAN COBWEB

THE UNKNOWN GOD

THE ROMANCE OF A FEW DAYS

THE REVOLT

THE ETERNAL PRIESTESS

THE ALTAR FIRE

WANG, THE NINTH