FINDING OUT ABOUT LIFE INSIDE THE PEKING LEGATIONS · FINDING OUT ABOUT LIFE INSIDE THE PEKING...
Transcript of FINDING OUT ABOUT LIFE INSIDE THE PEKING LEGATIONS · FINDING OUT ABOUT LIFE INSIDE THE PEKING...
FINDING OUT ABOUT LIFE
INSIDE THE PEKING LEGATIONS
To set the record for those who consider such exactitude important,
although General Chaffee's force actually entered the city before any other, it was
British troops that arrived first inside the Legation Quarter. The regimental colours
of the 14th Infantry were the first to fly over Peking and the men of the 14th were the
first to set foot inside the city at a little after 2 p.m, but the enemy resistance that we
encountered had held up our advance for some one and a half hours and,
meanwhile, the British had entered the city at the Zua-anmen gate. Without sight of
a single enemy soldier, they had followed a road to a position opposite the legations,
where they set up a temporary headquarters near the Temple of Heaven. Then,
shortly before 3 o'clock that afternoon Captain Pell, A.D.C to General Gaselee;
Lieutenant Keys, a Sikh officer, and four Sikh privates walked into the Legation
gardens.
Some thirty minutes later, the 14th Infantry entered the inner city through the
Water gate, at the same time as Captain Reilly's battery was passing through the
Chien-men gate, which had been opened for them by the American and Russian
marine guards of the besieged Legations. First or second into the city meant nothing,
though, as we were all greeted by a cheering throng of the besieged foreigners, all
decked out in their finery; all wishing to hug us and shake our hands.
All afternoon the allied forces came pouring into the Legation compound in
an endless succession until the lawn was fairly covered with them. Everybody was
dancing for joy, and some could scarcely restrain their tears. Amid this cheering and
jubilation, the confusion was as great as the euphoria and every new troop was
greeted as the bringer of victory and deliverance. As a sharp reminder, however,
that our task was far from over, some Chinese soldiers still in hiding around the
walls of the Legation Quarter kept up an intermittent threat by firing into the
crowds. A Belgian women received a flesh wound to the side of her face; and a Bengal
Lancer, whose troop had been sent out in defence of the barricades was sadly killed
when, looking through a loophole, he was instantly struck by a bullet to his face.
At about 4.30 p.m General Gasalee and General Chaffee met with Minister
Conger and Sir Claude McDonald, the senior US and British Legation diplomats
and, to ensure that the joyous mood of that evening did not get out of hand, the
British decided to maintain their headquarters at the Temple of Heaven and General
Chaffee agreed to withdraw our troops from the Legation quarters and camp just
outside the wall for the night. As the only correspondent with the 14th Infantry,
though, I considered that my place at that time was with the foreigners inside the
Legations so, with Chaffee's permission, I re-entered the quarters and soon found
myself in the company of one Arthur Smith, an American missionary, who summed
up the military situation for me… "It's a miracle that we have survived at all" he
said, "but we can't understand why the Chinese did not extinguish our defences … if
they had been ready to make a sacrifice of just a few hundred lives, we would all be
dead now".
Missionary Smith was an avuncular sort of fellow; one who would hold the
affection and respect of his fellows in any circle of which he was a part. He had
much to tell me and for this report, it is worth repeating his own words …
"Many of the Chinese Christians who have been sheltering here and Chinese soldiers
have been killed, but we have not been able to record how their numbers. What we do
know is that the foreign guards who have been defending the Legations have suffered
heavy casualties. Up to yesterday's count, of the 409 guards, 55 are dead and 135
wounded. It seems odd but our records show that the small Japanese force of one
officer and 24 sailors commanded by Colonel Shiba suffered greater than 100 percent
casualties. This happened because many of the Japanese troops, including Colonel
Shiba, were wounded, entered into the casualty lists, and then returned to the line of
battle only to be wounded once more and again entered in the casualty lists. In
addition, 13 civilians have been killed and 24 wounded, mostly men who took part in
the defence.
Almost everybody helped with some part of the defence effort and we had
committees of all kinds. It was an American idea, and there were about forty
altogether, one a cobbling committee to mend our shoes, another a washing
committee to wash out clothes, a third a milling committee to grind the wheat, and so
forth. The idea was a good one, and some of the committees did valuable work. But
head and shoulders above all others as the most important man in our small
community was an American missionary, Frank Gamewell who was the head of our
fortifications committee. Where he got his ideas about fort and barricade building and
construction I don't know; probably he doesn't know himself, but he had a genius for
the work. No Royal Engineer could have done it better, and he did everything
without a fuss of any kind. "Gamewell," we said, "we want a barricade, here, or a
trench there, or a gun platform somewhere else". Not another word was necessary.
Mr. Gamewell got together his team, known as the 'Fighting Parsons', and his
coolies, you know we had a lot of native Christians in the compound, who did the
labouring work for us, and in less time than most men would have taken talking
about how the job was to be done the thing was complete. He raised no difficulties,
asked no one's opinion, took up nobody's time with questions, simply got the work
done, and surprised us all by the ingenuity and excellence of it. Mr. Gamewell and
Colonel Shiba were our two best men without whom it does not seem possible we
could have won through. I tell you now, after knowing these two men, I am
beginning to lose my blind, unquestioning faith in Englishmen as the solitary salt of
the earth."
Smith and I talked for some hours, until I had to leave and make my way back to my
quarters, or face the post-curfew challenge of the US sentries. As I walked back
through the gathering dark, I thought about the times I had spent with many brave,
outstanding men from foreign lands; and I could not help but agree with him ...
General Albert Gasalee
General Adna Chaffee
Sir Claude McDonald
Minister Edwin Conger
Arthur Henderson Smith
Colonel Shiba Goro
Frank Gamewell and his Fighting Parsons
CONSOLIDATING OUR POSITION
We broke our camp at 5 a.m on the morning of 15th August and moved in
column back towards the Water Gate entrance to the inner city. Upon entering the
Legations, the cheering and glad-handing of the previous day was continued, but
the appearance of the people and their surroundings, buildings, streets and homes,
presented us with clear evidence of how they must have suffered during the siege.
Barricades of every sort of material were built everywhere, topped with sandbags
made from every conceivable sort of cloth, from sheets and pillowcases to dress
materials and brocaded curtains. Most of the Legations had been reduced to piles of
rubble, and those of the British, Russian, and American residents, though standing
and occupied, were riddled with bullet holes from small arms fire and, often, with
larger gaping holes made by shell.
The children presented a pitiable sight, white and wan for lack of proper food,
but the adults, as a rule, seemed cheerful and little the worse for their trying
experience, except from anxiety and constant worry. The Legations had been
ransacked for supplies but food and water were seriously inadequate, with most
living on short rations, a portion of which consisted of a few mouthfuls of horse or
mule meat daily. The Chinese Christians had fared worse than most, being fed upon
whatever scraps could be secured, and often reduced to killing dogs and rats for
meat. American missionaries had taken over the management of sanitation and
health and although medical supplies were also scarce, the doctors and nurses had
managed to operate a field hospital that had saved many lives.
The Legation guards were not well armed and only the American marines
had sufficient ammunition. The defenders had just three machine guns and a small
cannon but, fortunately, an old cannon barrel and ammunition had been found and
from it a serviceable artillery piece with the original Italian carriage and a British
barrel firing Russian shells had somehow been forged. This was manned by marines
of the American guard, who had christened their fearsome weapon "Betsy" - to
everybody else, though, it was known as the "International".
General Chaffee had been informed by Minister Conger that part of the
Imperial City directly in front of the Chien-men gate had been used by the Chinese
as a base to fire on the Legations. Our scouts had reported that this enemy force was
still in position and Chaffee had decided to force the Chinese troops out. It took
some time to prepare our attack but by 7 a.m four guns of Captain Reilly's 5th
Artillery battery had been hauled to the top of the wall above Chien-men gate and
proceeded to sweep the walls to the west, all the way to the next gate, from where
there was some slight opposition supported by poor artillery. At about 8 o'clock, the
Chinese opened fire on us at Chien-men gate, whereupon General Chaffee deployed
a direct attack on the first Imperial City gate, and in a short while Reilly's second-in-
command, Lieutenant Charles P. Summerall had opened the door of this gate. The
14th Infantry and the Marines entered, and were immediately met with severe fire
from the next gate, about 600 yards distant.
Our fire was directed upon this second gate and in less than half an hour the
Chinese guns was silenced. Colonel Daggett led forward the 14th to the base of the
gate and directed Lieutenant Summerall to open this gate with artillery, which he
did. This assault pattern was then repeated for a total of four gates, the Chinese
troops being driven from each one in succession. The fourth gate presented no direct
threat because it was at the rear of the Imperial City, near an area known as the
Palace Grounds, which was only lightly defended by the "Imperial Guards", and it
was here that General Chaffee called a halt to the action.
And then, the news that brought grief to all of us. Captain Henry Reilly had
been killed. At just a few minutes before 9 o'clock, the courageous commander of the
Artillery battery that had supported us and taken a decisive stance in every battle
that we had fought from Tientsin to Peking, had taken a bullet in the mouth and
died almost instantly while standing next to General Chaffee observing the effect of
a shot from one of his guns. With his deep sadness quelled by an innate sense of
duty and responsibility, Lieutenant Summerall immediately assumed the de facto
role of acting battery commander.
We were now in a position to take control of the Imperial City but at a
conference in the afternoon a majority of the Legation Ministers and the alliance
Commanders decided that only the grounds should be occupied. I am sure that
General Chaffee was not in agreement with this, but he nevertheless deployed his
forces accordingly, with the 14th Infantry and some Marines on three sides of the
grounds in cover positions, to provide a full cross-fire defence; the remaining Marine
battalion on the fourth side, protecting the ground back to the Legation Quarters; the
Artillery battery on the wall above the Chien-men gate; and the 9th Infantry at the
gate where our earlier attack had ceased. Thus, by mid-afternoon, we were
embedded and had set up established defence positions against attack from all sides.
There was a general acknowledgement that the battle had probably not yet reached
its conclusion, but it was unlikely that there would be any more fighting today.
Having been in similar positions of conflict on a number of other occasions, I
knew that this was the time at which Generals needed casualty lists for their
despatches. I also knew that all the men were exhausted, so I approached Colonel
Daggett and volunteered myself for this task. He assigned a trooper to accompany
me and we scurried off at half-crouch around the three miles or so that now made
up our perimeter. We took a couple of desultory sniper shots but, unhurt, we were
back in less than two hours with our list which detailed that, apart from the tragic
death of Captain Reilly, our casualties for 14th and 15th August, culminating in our
attack upon the four Imperial City gates, were:
5th Artillery 1 officer and 2 enlisted men killed; 8 enlisted men wounded
9th Infantry 2 officers and 3 enlisted men killed; 4 enlisted men wounded
14th Infantry 3 officers and 6 enlisted man killed; 4 officers and 22 men wounded
US Marines 1 officer and 9 enlisted men killed; 5 enlisted men wounded
Heroes all - and I am certain that nobody in Peking on that day would disagree ...
Legation Guards manning Barricades
"Betsy" or the "International Cannon" in action
Ammunition stores at Chien-men Gate
THE RELIEF OF PEKING - AFTERMATH
It was with strange feelings that we rose on the morning of 16th August.
In less than twenty-four hours the entire experience of our expedition had changed.
The crowds had been greatly excited at our arrival the day before, but now people
rushed to and fro in urgent, animated groups to discuss the latest news or
probabilities. The whole place was in a turmoil; the trappings of battle were
everywhere; guns, ammunition wagons, baggage trains, carts, clogged all the roads
and passageways. The lawns and gardens were crowded with soldiers and civilians,
every yard of space and every corner packed. The arrival of the relief force should
have restored order and a sense of normality; for the moment, though, it seemed as
if confusion and rumour were the orders of the day.
It was widely believed that the Dowager Empress, Cixi, disguised as a
peasant woman, together with the emperor and several members of the court, had
slipped out of the city in three wooden carts at the moment the allies entered. Her
departure, along with the immediate subjugation suffered at the hands of the
alliance forces, had triggered a total breakdown in morale and disciple amongst the
Chinese, and the disintegration of the Boxer movement in the city.
The Chinese forces were in disarray, fleeing the city in their thousands; and
the fire of numerous clearing skirmishes was a constant rumble as the Japanese
worked their way around the north of the Imperial City, while the Americans and
French were shelling the entrance to the Palace from the south by the Chien-men.
The noise of a significant battle taking place some distance to the north could be
heard all over the city, but nobody in our force knew what this was and it came as an
enormous surprise to all of us when two runners came in and reported that the
Catholic Cathedral at Peitang had been relieved by Japanese troops who had
engaged the Boxers surrounding the Cathedral and, after a barrage lasting less than
an hour, had put them to flight. They had then entered the Cathedral but, without a
common language, they and the besieged were both confused. Shortly afterwards,
however, French troops arrived and marched into the Cathedral to the cheers of the
survivors. As the Cathedral was located inside the grounds of the Imperial City,
about two miles from the Legation Quarter, nobody had any idea that during the
siege, almost 4000 people had sought sanctuary within the stone walls, which had
been defended for more than a month by only 41 French and Italian marines, led by
two French officers.
At a conference of the generals on the afternoon of the 16th, the city area was
divided up and sections allocated to the various forces for security and protection of
the inhabitants. The 14th Infantry and the marines were assigned to the west half of
the city, and to that section lying between the Chien-men gate and the south wall of
the Imperial city. I would have been part of this activity but, now that the main
fighting appeared to be behind us, I had other priorities than to continue my
attachment with the US forces. After clearing my departure with General Chaffee,
and bidding my farewells to the brave troops who had become my friends and
brothers-in-arms, I set off with the notion of reporting on the developing situation
inside the Legation quarter.
Making my way through the outer grounds, past the Italian, French, German
and Japanese compounds, I met not a soul but saw that every wall and roof was
down and the whole place levelled to the ground. There was nothing more than a
vast field of smashed brick and rubble, in which it was difficult even to trace the
ground plan of the houses. I passed a well that had been filled in; a dead body
rotting in the drain. Nothing remained standing and not a tree, not a stick, not a
shrub had survived; I was walking in a bare and empty wilderness.
As I neared the larger and better defended American, Russian and British
legations, however, I came across an occasional house or shop that was untouched,
from where a few people came out professing friendliness and welcoming me like a
lost brother, offering me tea and such-like tokens of goodwill. It was not difficult to
see through their thinly veiled hypocrisy, or to guess why they had suffered no
harm. I declined their offers but I did go into a large pawn-shop, where I surmised
that a number of foreigners would have deposited their treasures for safe keeping. If,
indeed, they had done so, their belongings were now lost. The shop was deserted,
empty, looted. Nothing remained except heaps of paper, account books, pawn
tickets, and other rubbish.
More and more people were around as I walked up South Bridge road, the
track that separates the US Legation from the Russian and British compounds.
Dozens of covered wagons, with horses straining at their load, were hurriedly
leaving the US Legation; and in the Russian grounds there was much bartering and
bickering over the price of looted goods. In full and open view of anybody who
cared to look, two peaceable, well-dressed men were surrounded by a dozen or so
Russian soldiers, suffering the crude but simple act of being made to undo their
girdles and hold up their tunics whilst the soldiers felt all around their waists for
watches or money; a blatant example of highway robbery in its most disgusting
form.
I had seen all of this before, of course, in Tientsin where, just a few short
weeks before, the military occupation had turned into an orgy of looting and
violence. Little did I realise, though, that the relief of Peking was about to become a
bloodbath of human atrocity in which soldiers, civilians, diplomats, missionaries,
and journalists all participated ...
Plan of the Legation Quarter
South Bridge Street in the Legation Quarter
THE RELIEF OF PEKING - ATROCITIES
It was a misery to walk the city and see its desolation. Peking had twice been looted
before, by the Boxers, then by the Imperial soldiers, and now it was being ravaged
again by the allies. At each fresh step in this depressing history, the inhabitants had
fled to places where they hoped to find greater peace and safety. Now the place was
a ruin, the restoration of which, if even possible, could only be accomplished over a
long period of time. Peking was no great natural hub of trade, able to recover from
such a disaster through the economic influence of renewed commercial life; it was
simply the fortified home of the Imperial Court, which had attracted the crowds that
always migrate to such places to supply the wants and luxuries of the wealthy. The
moment the Court left, Peking had sunk to the level of a dingy, second-rate market
town.
Lost in this sorry reverie, I hardly noticed General Gasalee, General Chaffee
and their staff officers walking across the compound towards the Russian Legation.
Gasalee ignored me but General Chaffee invited me to join them. I fell into line
alongside the familiar figure of Lieutenant. John Furlong, Chaffee's aide-de-camp,
who informed me that a full conference of all the military Commanders and foreign
Ministers had been called to discuss what action should be taken in respect of the
Imperial City. Shortly before 9.30 a.m. we arrived at the Russian Army Headquarters
where the conference was to be held. Following my earlier failed bid to make contact
with Morrison, I was pleased to see a number of familiar faces. George Lynch, war
correspondent for the London Daily Express was there, as was Emile Dillon, Russian
correspondent for the Daily Telegraph, together with my old friend, Bennet
Burleigh, who had been billeted with the British forces.
There was but one item on the agenda and, after some brief, token discussion,
the representatives of the foreign powers came to their decision. At 10.15 a.m on the
morning of 17th August, they agreed and recommended that ...
"As the advance of the foreign troops into the Imperial and Forbidden Cities has been
obstinately resisted by the Chinese troops, the foreign armies should continue to fight
until the Chinese armed resistance within all the Cities of Peking and the
surrounding country is crushed ... because in the crushing of that armed resistance
lies the best and only hope of the restoration of peace".
This proved to be a fateful time, date and proclamation, for not only did it initiate
the final attack by the allied forces on the Imperial city itself, it was as though the
firm military stance of the allied forces had been perceived by the civilian residents
as a signal for the abandonment of the very rules and mores of society itself. Within
hours, it seemed as though the closeness of community that had been succour to the
besieged just days earlier, had all but disappeared and been replaced by a raw, almost
animalistic survival instinct. Alongside the hundreds already engaged in their brazen
looting of property and person, many of the foreigners packing up and preparing to
leave the Legations with their possessions, now began gathering in small parties,
arming themselves and rampaging out in search of anything valuable that they could
find. Some were bent on robbery and some on revenge, while others sought
satisfaction of even baser impulses. Thus, over the next two or three days, a cascade of
vile atrocity erupted; on all sides fighting, burning, torture, rape and killing.
For some vestige of protection, the four of us stayed together and did what we
could to avoid drawing attention to ourselves. The main battles were now over and
the Boxer forces were in disarray, retreating in all directions. Peking would soon
become a post-war city and we had a responsibility to find out what we could within
this period of transition. As we skulked around the grounds, though, grim and for
the most part, silent, we were witness to an unfolding kaleidoscope of human
behaviour more nightmarish and more brutal than any of us could have believed
possible. We saw prisoners chained and fettered so heavily that many collapsed and
died under a sword, a bayonet or a beating when they could not rise; we saw row
upon row of kneeling captives collapse crumpled into ditches filled with the still-
writhing bodies of their brothers as the bullets from the firing squads smashed their
skulls; we saw hordes of terrified men, accused and instantly guilty on the merest
suspicion of being Boxers, beheaded at the many thickly blooded killing grounds
scattered throughout the city. The Japanese are said to be the most prolific exponents
of these grisly forms of execution, but so many now followed their lead that General
Chaffee wrote "It is safe to say that where one real Boxer has been killed, fifty
harmless coolies or labourers on the farms, including not a few women and children,
have been slain".
This butchery was open and evident to anybody who cared to cast an eye
around the city; and for those preferring to avert their view, accusations, reports and
rumour served as powerful sources of second-hand information. Through his tears, a
young US Marine told us how he could do nothing as he watched French and Russian
troops bayonet women after raping them. American missionaries spoke to us of
Russian soldiers ravishing young girls, of women and children hacked to pieces; and
of men trussed like fowls, with noses and ears cut off and eyes gouged out.
The conduct of the Russian soldiers was generally considered atrocious, the
British and Americans somewhat better, and the French perhaps worse than any.
The Japanese, whose officers had brought along prostitutes to stop their troops from
raping Chinese civilians, despised the Russians and on at least three occasions of
which I was told, executed Russian soldiers caught ravaging local women. It was
also widely believed that a group of US troops had taken upon themselves the role of
vigilante to patrol the city and castrate, then execute, any rapist that they identified.
Nevertheless, many Chinese women chose to commit suicide to avoid rape by allied
forces; and, on one of our darkest days, we began to perhaps appreciate a fraction of
their torment as we witnessed the funeral pyres of the hundreds of mutilated corpses
of women and girls raped and killed by alliance soldiers.
And we saw more, much more; much more that was more inhuman, more
grotesque, more repulsive. As journalists our natural intent was to report all that we
had seen but we knew that this was different. We had all experienced the horrors of
war in different, distant arenas, but not one of us had ever known such an assault on
the senses; not one of us had ever been exposed to such obscene visions of reality. In
our hearts we all knew, but it was Lynch who first voiced our silent understanding
and our shared pledge when he whispered "there are things that we must not write,
and that may not be printed for our readers, which show that this Western
civilisation of ours is merely a veneer over savagery".
That evening, a notice was sent round to collect the names of all those who
wished to travel to Tientsin by the first convoy, which was expected to leave the next
day, Tuesday 21st. I knew that I was done here and that I had to leave this evil place.
Lynch, Dillon and Burleigh understood and, for us, there was no need of a farewell. I
walked slowly back to my quarters and spent the next few hours packing the scraps
that were left of my kit. At midnight, I made my way to the grounds of the Temple
of Heaven, from where the convoy was to depart at 5.30 in the morning. I was there,
ready to leave, at 2 o'clock ...
Men accused of looting and robbery - Peking, August 1900
George Ernest Morrison
London Times Correspondent
William Scott Ament
American Missionary
Herbert Goldsmith Squiers
Secretary at US Legation
Monsignor Pierre Favier
Roman Catholic Bishop
Some scenes that can be displayed - Peking, August 1900
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THE CONVOY - ESCAPE FROM PEKING
We were called at 5 a.m. on 21st August and actually left the compound just before 7
o'clock. There were about eighty people in the convoy, nearly all travelling in Peking
carts, one or two in chairs, whilst a few coolies with sedans followed in case
anybody fell sick by the way. It was a clear day but very hot, and we completed the
journey to Tung Chow in good time considering the number of our carts and the
frailness of many of our number. On the way we passed villages, and scattered
farms, all absolutely deserted. The crops were ripening in the fields, but there was no
one to look after them or to reap, and they were left to rot. At a time in the season
when, in other years, the country would be alive with men, women, and children, all
turned out to bring in the harvest, now not a soul was to be seen.
When we reached Tung Chow the sight that met us was terrible; we had seen
ruin and destruction enough in Peking, but even that was nothing to compare with
Tung Chow. The havoc wrought by this war was appalling; the city had been sacked
by the Russians; the gates destroyed; the main street a mass of debris. In Peking the
Chinese had carried off every stick, every stone which could be used for any
purpose. Here all was left as it had been destroyed. Fires still smouldered on every
side and even to enter some of the temples and houses was dangerous for the
charred timbers could fall at the least movement. In our journey across the city I saw
only two Chinese standing at a place where two roads met, and they simply stood
there, emotionless, staring with unseeing eyes as our convoy passed them by.
We were glad to leave the place behind us and to find ourselves upon the
river bank. Here were a number of grain boats on which had been erected simple
matting shelters. Each boat was to take four or five passengers, their servants, and
four Beloochi tribesmen as guard. I wanted nothing to do with the company of men
at this stage; no conversation of war or killing, and I was pleased that our party,
comprising the Deaconess Ransome and Miss Lambert from the church in the British
Legation, their Chinese charges, a servant, and myself, were allocated a boat to
ourselves. The Deaconess and the other women slept in the mat-shelter, and I slung
a simple hammock outside. We were all on board by three o'clock, expecting to start
at once and accomplish the first stage of our journey before nightfall, but the order
was that we were not to leave until 5 o'clock the next morning.
It was quite chilly at night on the open boat, and it seemed an age before day
broke; and then delay followed delay, so that we did not start until 8 a.m. The boats
were beached high, and some had to be dragged into deeper water, one by one, so
some were a long way ahead before the last had started. The boatmen were for the
most part raw coolies; only a few seemed to be capable of managing the boats, and
there was a general disagreement as to the course. The river was shallow and full of
shoals, so that one boat after another ran aground, and was only pulled off again
with difficulty.
There were no orders to keep the boats together, no one in supreme command
to direct the crowd. The boats with the best boatmen or the lightest draught speedily
forged ahead, and the convoy was soon scattered and divided by great distances;
often we floated along with no other boat in sight, or perhaps only a shadow of one a
mile or so away. Despite my best efforts to keep my mind free from any thoughts of
killing, I could not help thinking how simple it would have been for an enterprising
enemy to have cut that convoy to pieces. The great millet, growing to a height of
twelve or fifteen feet, grew thickly right down to the water's edge, forming a dense
and impenetrable cover, and half a dozen men hidden in the crops could have easily
picked off the guards as the boats passed without our being able to fire a shot in
reply. The enemy would have been invisible. He had only to move a few yards and
lie down, and then a full body of men might have searched for him for hours in vain.
Scattered as we were, our boats could not have supported one another, but happily
we did not have to deal with any such attack. Instead, in an air of peace and calm
that belied the reality, the boats glided gently down stream and, for some precious
hours, I was able to let the quiet motion, the stillness of the atmosphere and the
glistening lights on the water work their soothing effect upon my mind.
The overriding backdrop, though, was that all the way down the river we saw
the same sights that we had seen on the road to Tung Chow. Where there had been
crowds of busy, inquisitive, greedy Chinese, there was now not a living soul. We
saw a few coolies working lazily, but no workmen in the fields, no harvest crops
being gathered; no boats laden with rice or copper for the markets. We seemed to be
the only people abroad in a land of deserted wealth. We saw also the harsh
reminders of war only too frequently; villages in flames, shattered buildings, homes
and communities, dead bodies floating down the river or stranded on the banks.
Thus we journeyed until Tuesday night. We had hoped to reach Tientsin
during the day but had made slow progress and it was 11 p.m. when we reached the
final sweep of the river into the harbour. Instead of anchoring against the bank as we
would normally have done at that hour, the boatmen let her drift and we slid quietly
downstream. There was no moon, but it was a clear starlit night, and we could see
the course of the river perfectly, with all the buildings on either side half-revealed,
then half-hidden in a beautiful soft white light. The stars were reflected in splashes
of gold on the dark water, and the morning star, which shone with a splendid
brilliance, cast a long stream of light on the river. It was difficult to distinguish where
substance ended and shadow began but as we neared the harbour, the star-glow
softened the harsh outlines, hiding the horrors of destruction and the squalor of the
sordid surroundings in a soft mystery.
We drifted towards the harbour's outer swing bridge, which we found closed,
so we had to anchor and wait for the dawn. Slowly the day broke, chill but bright.
Crowds of French soldiers were passing the bridge by the light of great fire- torches
and it seemed as if we might wait for ever. At last they were all over, the bridge was
opened and with some difficulty, for the current was very strong, we passed through
So we arrived at about 7 o'clock in the morning of Wednesday 27th August.
My fellow passengers would soon make their way to the Mission, but for me the
direction was towards the dockside warehouses where I reasoned that I would find
the offices organising the manifests and the movements of the great flotilla of ships
berthed in the waters of Bohai Bay; and, within the hour, this was done. I located the
headquarters of the American Logistics Corps, but a QM Sergeant there told me that
the next ship leaving would be the USS Nashville on 7th September. He directed me
to the British offices and, although I was not over-confident of help from this
quarter, I was pleasantly surprised when, after a somewhat cursory inspection of my
identity papers, a young lieutenant pointed to a supply barge that was being loaded
and said, "If you can be aboard her in the next thirty minutes, you can join the
Surprise, leaving for San Francisco this afternoon".
He was a little taken aback at the effusiveness of my gratitude, thrust my
passage docket into my hand and showed me to the door. I walked - perhaps
skipped might be a more accurate description of my gait - across the quay to the
barge and jumped aboard. Within just a few minutes we were pulling away from
Tientsin harbour, and an hour later I was aboard HMS Surprise. Peking was behind
me - it was over ...
Our convoy from Peking on the River Peiho - 25 August 1900
HMS Surprise moored off Taku preparing
to leave for San Francisco - 27 August 1900