Anticipations of Work--The _Powhattan’s_ Salute--Sail for the
Peiho--Excitement on Board--Arrival of Mr. Bruce--Interview
with the Chinese Commandant--We embark--Advance to the Taku
Forts--Attempt to blow up the Barrier--What old Archie
said--Gun-boats under Way--A Jam--Well done, _Opossum_--The saucy
_Plover_--We join the _Starling_--Aground hard and fast--The Fight
begins--Dodging the Cannon-balls--Well done, _Cormorant_!--Smart
Work--We pull to the Admiral--Death at my Elbow--At it again--Lie
down, Men!--Unlucky Teapot--The Landing-party--We pull to the
Shore--Death in the Mud--Hit by a Shot--The Wounded Officer--Death
in the Rushes--The Don’t-care Feeling--The Retreat--Light-balls--A
terrible Trudge--Don’t care again--A narrow Escape--A Sip of
Life--The Boats at last--Sleepers in the Gun-boat.
We heard on the 5th June that the _Inflexible_ would take our place,
while we sailed on a cruise to the northward. The news was good news
for us, because we thought there would be something to do besides
cruising. The awkward dispute between the English and Chinese
authorities had been talked about for some time, and we thought our
admiral was not the man to stand any nonsense.
On Friday, the 10th, we steamed from Shanghai. It was a miserable
morning, the rain pouring down in torrents; but we were on the move,
and going to see something fresh, and perhaps take part in a brush with
the Long-tails. As we passed the United States steamer _Powhattan_,
anchored at Woosung, her band struck up _God save the Queen_, and she
dipped her ensign. We were not slow in returning the compliment, and
in a few minutes the strains of _Hail, Columbia_! were wafted from our
poop towards the Yankee. We touched at Pecheli and got our letters
from the flag-ship, and sailed with the rest of the squadron to our
appointed anchorage, within sight of the mouth of the Peiho, and of
the Taku Forts; they being about eight miles and a half distant. The
anchorage is wild and gloomy, the waves being of a heavy leaden colour,
and no land visible on account of its extreme lowness. When it comes on
to blow hard, steamers ‘bank fires,’ and stand by to slip and put to
sea.
We were all ready prepared, with our knapsacks, water-bottles, and so
on; and it would be hard to conceive the excitement and talk which the
probable attack caused among us. Visions of imperial gold and satin
passed before our eyes; and never was any subject discussed as we
discussed Pekin and the emperor.
On the 21st, Mr. Bruce arrived, and immediately proceeded to the
mouth of the river, with Admiral Hope and the French captain. As
afterwards appeared, they had a talk with the commandant of the forts,
who informed them that he had been ordered by his superiors to allow
no vessel of any nation to pass up that way; and further, that there
was another place, about three leagues from this, where the emperor
wished Mr. Bruce should ascend to Pekin, and that his Celestial Majesty
had prepared every convenience to facilitate the progress of the
second English ambassador to the court of China. The admiral and his
colleagues, however, mistrusting the commandant’s statements, gave him
to understand that they wouldn’t stand any nonsense.
What the upshot was everybody knows. As for the Highflyers, we rubbed
our hands when we heard that the passage was to be forced whether or
not.
On the 24th, the admiral having determined to wait no longer,
and having given his instructions over-night, we, that is the
landing-party, embarked in our boats, towed by the different gun-boats
attached to each ship, and following the admiral in line of seniority.
One of the gun-boats carried the French blue-jackets, and the American
hired steamer _Toeywan_ came on in our wake. We steamed up to within
three-quarters of a mile of the forts, and lay-to, awaiting further
orders, and looking curiously at the greasy mud before the forts,
the tide having run down. Meanwhile, the admiral steamed round and
reconnoitred the points of attack; and soon after we had orders to
put the marines on board some junks, which had been seized the day
previously for their quarters.
We lay idle all that day, and at night slept on board the gun-boat
_Banterer_. During the night, a party from different ships, in two
whitewashed cutters, and with muffled oars, made an attempt to blow up
the barriers which the Chinese had constructed across the river; but it
did not succeed, and they were fired on from the forts, and obliged to
retire.
The morning of the 25th dawned brightly and summer-like, and so calm
that not a ripple stirred the water. At seven o’clock we had breakfast,
laughing and joking the while. Old Archie “know’d they wouldn’t fight,
and we’d have our suppers inside them forts;” and so, indeed, many of
us thought. The meal over, most of the blue-jackets were distributed to
the different gun-boats, to man and fight the bow-guns.
Meantime, the admiral had advanced in the _Plover_, astern of the
_Opossum_, whose instructions were to find a passage through the
barrier stakes, or, if not, to pull them up by main force. Following
the _Plover_ came the _Cormorant_, _Lee_, _Nimrod_, _Banterer_,
_Kestrel_, and _Starling_. But in advancing, as the water shoaled, they
ran aground and foul of one another; or, as an old salt said, “the
admiral was regularly jammed.” We were now, I should say, about nine
hundred yards from the forts, and in shoal water.
So the morning went by, and we were still in suspense, when the word
was passed for dinner. While we ate ours most of the fouled craft
cleared themselves and got afloat. The forts remained quite silent
all the time; not a soul could we see moving, and but few guns and
embrasures were visible, owing, as we afterwards learned, to the
Chinese having masked them.
Dinner was no sooner over than, as may be imagined, all eyes were
anxiously turned upon the leading boat, _Opossum_: we could plainly
see her drive stem on, and carry away the chain; and afterwards haul
up several of the stakes and steam right inside. The _Plover_, bearing
the admiral’s flag, followed her closely, and just as she was half-way
through, down went the mask from the embrasures; whiz--rush--roar--came
the shot, and the action commenced.
At this time the admiral was standing, a conspicuous mark, upon the
top of the gun-boat’s galley; and as he was a tall man he was plainly
seen by both parties, more especially as he had on white duck trousers.
But many of us noticed what we thought a blunder in the arrangements,
namely, that all the gun-boats were not able to engage the enemy,
owing to their having been placed in wrong positions, where they would
do more mischief to friend than foe; but the shoal water was a great
excuse for this.
It was now about a quarter-past two in the afternoon. A score of
Highflyers, I amongst them, had been shortly before sent to the
_Starling_, and placed under the orders of Captain Villiers, to assist
in fighting the pivot-gun, she being short-handed; but, unfortunately,
in manœuvring to get a good position, she ran aground, and though
we made every effort to get her off, such as jumping her stern till
we were tired, rolling the shot, and transporting the pivot-gun, she
would not stir. Captain G. O. Willes, who acted as aide-de-camp to the
admiral (if I may be allowed the term), happening just then to pass in
his gig, and seeing our critical and comparatively helpless position,
sent two gun-boats to our assistance, and he himself superintended
their operations; but the _Starling_ resisted all efforts, and still
stuck hard and fast. So Captain Willes, after courteously thanking the
lieutenants of the two boats, told our skipper he must do his best; in
pursuance of which advice he ordered us all, rather ingloriously as we
thought, down into the boats lying alongside, in order to be out of
the way of the enemy’s shot. The position of the vessel was such that
there was no possibility of bringing the guns to bear on the forts;
consequently we could be of no use on deck, which was, I suppose,
the captain’s reason for taking care of us. He, however, and the
second-master stuck to the deck. We sat quiet for about ten minutes,
when, growing impatient to see what was going on, I scrambled up to
the deck, and was soon followed by others. Presently a sudden jet of
smoke, followed by the hollow rushing sound of the shot, proclaimed
the intention of the Chinese to keep on fighting, and the probability
of a smart engagement. And then they went to work in earnest, and sent
a storm of shot from their batteries, doing fearful execution among
the gun-boats; whereupon, seeing that the enemy meant mischief, the
crews blazed away at the forts, as if they enjoyed the deadly game of
long bowls. Now and then a shot struck the _Starling_ in her helpless
condition, and it was somewhat laughable to see how we--British
blue-jackets--ducked when a ball chanced to whistle close over us.
However, this paying of respect to the swift iron bullets saved many a
life that day.
I can hardly tell how I felt; for after the firing began such a state
of excitement possessed me that I could scarcely contain my feelings,
and I caught myself several times singing out and clapping my hands,
keeping my eyes all the while rivetted on the forts. With what a burst
of savage joy did I see the enemy’s walls shattered by our shot, and
“Well done, _Cormorant_!” “Bravo, _Lee_!” “Pretty firing!” were cries
in which my emotions found vent. Others exclaimed, “It can’t last
long, the Chinee rascals won’t stand to their guns long. Smart work.”
But they did stand, as shot after shot testified, tearing away our
bulwarks and splintering spars, scattering death on all sides, or
sullenly plunging beneath the water-line of the vessel. So it went on;
furious uproar--frightful crashing--smoke--groans--and death; neither
side showing the least signs of giving in.
After a time we were ordered out of the boats, to do what we could
with small arms, and at it we went, using our muskets with hearty good
will. But the distance was too great, and the smoke too thick for nice
firing. I kept on firing with the others till my musket became so hot
I was forced to cry “spell, ho!” In the midst of our attack, a shot
came ricocheting towards us, making ducks and drakes, as we used to
say at school; splashing the mud with great force in our faces, till
thump--crash--it buried itself in the _Starling’s_ side.
Then a signal went up from the admiral for more assistance, and our
party was ordered into the boat. Just as we shoved off, I turned to
look at the _Starling_, and saw a big shot strike the pivot-gun, knock
away the trunnion, overturn the carriage, scatter the splinters all
around, and finally lodge between the gun and the carriage, where
it remained firmly wedged. “By George, Bill!” said I to one of my
messmates, “that’s smart work!” “Yes, John,” answered he, “and you
mightn’t never see such another go-in like this.”
The _Opossum_ was now flag vessel, the admiral having shifted from
the _Plover_: while we were pulling towards her, the shot struck the
water ahead, astern, and even alongside of us, but never once hit us.
On getting alongside, the first thing which took my attention was the
gallant admiral, badly wounded, sitting on the gunwale, looking very
pale, and bleeding from a wound in the thigh; yet refusing to go below
or have it attended to. He sat watching the firing, and giving orders
with unabated spirit.
I tailed on, as did the rest, to the pivot-gun, and we fired away
briskly with very good effect. And so did the enemy for the matter of
that. A sapper who stood next to me was cut in two, and fell at my
feet. Then and at such-like times it was that I felt more fearful than
before. So long as I was not close to the wounded, or one who fell
killed, I kept my courage, and could do my share of duty at the gun;
but it made me wince to see the man whose shoulder rubbed mine picked
off so suddenly. However, it was for this I had gone through my drill
in the old _Illustrious_, and now or never we had to put our lessons in
practice.
After a while _Opossum_ hauled out of range, giving us time to
fetch breath; and then in we steamed again closer than before, and
directly in front of the forts, as though we intended going stem on,
in which position we could only fire the bow-gun with effect. We of
the pivot-gun, thus having no immediate work to do, stood watching
the firing, when aft came Captain Willes, and cried out, “For God’s
sake, men, lie down! You are too valuable to be shot now. Besides, we
can’t go twenty-two thousand miles every day for men like you.” We of
course obeyed, and while lying at ease we heard many a ball strike
the vessel’s side. One shot came through the quarter, and passed out
at the opposite side, touching no one, but breaking in its passage a
little earthenware teapot, filled with brandy-and-water, belonging to
the lieutenant. By-and-by he came aft to quench his thirst and wash
the powder out of his throat, but on seeing the smash, he dolefully
exclaimed, “I would like to know who broke my little teapot? I didn’t
care for the liquor--the taker was welcome to that--but he might have
left me the pot.” Suddenly turning to me, who stood nearest, he asked,
“Do you know anything about the pot?” “Yes, sir; a shot came through
the quarter and broke it.” “Oh! is that it? I thought by your grinning
you did it.”
We all had a good laugh at him, of course, being by this time once more
on our legs, having got up one by one. It is so hard to lie still where
fighting is going on.
Now the firing from the forts all but ceased, and our people thought
we should make an easy capture. But, alas! for human judgment,
never were chiefs more mistaken; it was only a trick on the part of
the Long-tails, as we afterwards found out to our great cost and
mortification. However, judging from the enemy’s silence, the admiral
decided on landing a party to take the forts by assault. A certain
captain, who had taken a look at the muddy shore, came back and
reported a practicable landing-place. If he had tried it himself,
instead of only looking at it, he would perhaps have sung a different
tune; at least, we all thought so.
The _Toeywan_ generously towed up to the forts the ships’ boats, full
of marines and blue-jackets; the order was conveyed to the French at
the same time; and shoving off from the different gun-boats, with ready
accoutrements and smiling faces, our men gave three hearty cheers and
pulled for the shore.
_Opossum_ had meantime steamed down to the junks for another load of
marines, and when we got up to the forts again, some of the marines
and blue-jackets had already landed. So, as one of our boats came
alongside, I jumped into her with the rest of our party, carrying our
muskets, full water-bottles, empty havresacs, and sixty rounds of
ammunition in our pouches. I sat in the stern-sheets of the boat, and
as we were pulling in shore, one of our party said to me, “Hurrah!
John, the forts are a-fire!” “Can’t be,” says I; “they were as black as
ever ten minutes ago!” It was the setting sun, which, throwing out the
forts in strong relief, and shining through loophole and embrasure, had
produced the appearance which deceived my mate.
No sooner did the Chinese see our boats approaching than they opened
a tremendous fire from every available position, tearing up the boats
and killing many a brave fellow before we could land. Thus was our
hilarity turned into rage, pain, and disappointment, by the want of
good judgment, as we thought, somewhere. The nearer we came to the
landing-place, the nastier it looked. However, as soon as our boat
touched the ground we jumped out, and found ourselves up to the waist
in water and slime; and, what was worse, our ammunition was rendered
useless by the soaking it got. Some poor fellows lost their footing,
and went down so deep into the mud that they were drowned by the jump
from the boat. Others seemed petrified, and crouched into the very
bottom of the boats, so terrible appeared the iron storm that we had to
face.
We were under the charge of an old petty-officer. He was addressing
an order to one of our party, when a shot struck him, and he fell
dead. We moved on: might as well advance as to stand there to be
killed, especially as the forts were pouring on us a murderous fire of
grape-shot and all other conceivable missiles. The sight was sickening
to see so many falling around, and yet no one able to stretch out a
helping hand to save. All at once I felt a sudden numbness in my head,
and my cap was knocked off. I instinctively put up my hand, but felt no
blood, and fortunately kept my footing. My impression was that I had
been accidentally hit by a Frenchman behind me who was firing at the
forts. Dreadful was our struggle through that greasy mud. At length
we reached the outermost trench, where one-half of our number, having
spoiled their ammunition, could not molest the enemy; so we halted
under cover, looking on, and wishing the Chinese, the forts, and the
officer who selected the landing-place, at the devil: anywhere but in
the place they happened to be.
I fired my musket once after landing, and then, in consequence of my
plunge and many falls, which choked the barrel, I could only stand by,
ready for whatever turned up.
Presently we made a push for the inner trench; but had not gone very
far when I saw an officer lying half-buried in the mud, which was by
this time pretty well sprinkled with dead and dying. I went to his
assistance, and found he was wounded in the throat, or I fancied so,
and managed, in spite of balls and bullets, to drag him down to the
water’s edge, and place him in the bottom of a boat.
I once more trudged along in order to regain the mass of seamen and
marines who were struggling gallantly onwards, returning but a feeble
fire to the storm from the walls. I came on the way to a small patch of
rushes, and pretty firm ground: how blessed did it seem to one’s feet,
although sodden! While I stayed here a little to get breath, three or
four blue-jackets and marines approached, one of whom came by my side
and halted, as I had done, to recover breath. I turned to ask him for a
drink from his water-bottle, when a shot struck him in the heart: “Get
you out of it,” he said to me, and fell dead. Another, while advancing
to speak to me, was cut in halves by a ball, and I felt his blood
bespatter me.
And now again that fierce don’t-care feeling came over me. I sprang
up, and tore across the open space, from the rushy patch to the second
trench which was lined with our men; shaking my musket in impotent
defiance, as it were, against the yelling Chinese, who now swarmed
at intervals upon the battlements. The trench was full of water, but
I ran recklessly in, and swam, and waded to the opposite side; still
clutching my musket. Then I sank; but felt some one grip hold of me by
the collar of my frock, and haul me into soundings; at the same time
a shipmate’s familiar voice said, “Nearly gone that time, John! Stand
on that big stone, you won’t be out of your depth.” On looking round,
I found my preserver to be “Snarley-yow,” so called, and that I was
standing close to Captain Shadwell, our own captain, who, though up to
his armpits in water, kept up his spirits wonderfully, and now and then
spoke a word of encouragement to the men, who in their turn gave a
hearty reply.
Darkness was now approaching; and although the work of slaughter was
still going on, and men were falling fast around, an attempt was made
to raise the scaling-ladders to the embrasures; but their supporters
were killed; and after other but ineffectual attempts, Colonel Lemon
thought it prudent for us to retreat. By that time the short twilight
was over, and darkness had set in, to our great relief; but the
enemy threw out light-balls to discover our position, at the same
time endeavouring to rake us from the northernmost battery. These
light-balls were annoying in two ways: they burnt one fearfully, and
had an oppressive and horrible smell; and after every instalment of
these things, a heavy discharge of arrows, ginjalls, and big guns, sped
many a good fellow of our side to his last account.
At length, by general consent, the retreat was sounded, and in a mass
of confusion we scrambled out of the trench, and had the mortification
of doing that which few Englishmen like to do--namely, turn our backs
upon the enemy.
No sooner did the Chinese see us begin the retreat, than they raised
such a succession of fearful yells, as I shall never forget; the sky
above was black, the water we were in was black, and the very Chinese
on the battlements above seemed like black devils, as they uttered yell
after yell, at the same time sending after us a withering fire.
I cannot say how long we were in the trench; but I remember that the
water rose, or perhaps I sank deeper, and I grew more and more benumbed
by my immersion. I would have given anything then for a good drink.
However, I made my way back with the rest, but could hardly drag myself
along from exhaustion, much less lend a helping hand to those who
were wounded. Painfully and slowly we struggled on, but pretty much
together, through the mud and darkness to the water’s edge. Now and
then an iron shower would hurtle round, or a solitary iron messenger
scream over our heads, or strike the water close to us, bespattering us
still more with mud.
But at times worse befel; some poor fellow would sink with exhaustion,
or fall dead struck by the enemy’s shot. Oh! those infernal forts. The
mud too was full of dead bodies, over which it seemed so horrible to
keep tumbling.
Most of the men waded out to their necks or armpits in water, and then
ensued a weary anxious waiting for boats, and we kept shouting till we
were forced to be silent from hoarseness.
By this time I was tottering sadly, so throwing my havresac,
water-bottle, and musket from me, I leaned against some stakes, and a
grim stupor came over me. I didn’t care if they did make a sally from
the forts; I wasn’t afraid to be shot; I wished I had perished in the
first of the fight. These fearful thoughts came into my head; I felt it
was wicked to think so, but I could not help it.
After a while I was recalled to my senses by a shot striking, and
scattering into splinters, the stake next to me. I started, and trudged
along towards some dim forms in the distance, ducking profoundly as I
heard the shot coming in my direction.
I turned once to look at the forts, when a smart twinge in the thigh
caused me to stagger and roll in the mud, and gave me to understand
something had hit me. I suppose it was a spent ginjall ball. Not
heeding this warning, I turned again to the forts, when, just opposite,
and in a line with me as it appeared, I saw the flash of a gun and
heard the iron fiend hissing towards me. It was a moment of agony.
I stooped, and so low that my face was under water, when a sullen
splash about two yards behind me, assured me that for the present I was
spared. If ever any one felt thankful for an escape, I did then; and I
never recal that incident without an earnest feeling of gratitude to
the Almighty for His merciful interposition.
Some one--a marine officer--now approached me, and asked if I were
wounded. Upon my replying in the negative, but that I was so cold I
shook like a leaf, he gave me a sup from his flask, and taking my
hand he almost forced me along; but I scarcely needed help then; that
mouthful of spirit had revived me, and I felt something like myself
again.
When, after what was to us an anxious weary delay, the boats came, they
began taking in men indiscriminately, and the poor fellows were so
eager to get away that there was much overcrowding. This was presently
stopped; some boats only took in a certain few, and in many cases where
an officer wouldn’t take more than his number, the worn-out men were
beaten off, or a pistol was pointed at their heads.
The French boats were the only disinterested ones; they took anybody,
and crammed as full as they could. Many a poor fellow while anxiously
waiting for a boat would suddenly, worn out with fatigue, throw up his
arms wildly, sink under, and be no more seen.
For some time I did not endeavour to get a boat, but watched others
being taken away; at last, when nearly all were gone, I saw a boat
approaching, hailed it, and was taken in; and after a pull well in
shore to look out for more wounded or stragglers, was rowed away from
that fatal mud-flat, and put on board our own gun-boat the _Banterer_.
On getting aboard I threw myself down just as I was, wet clothes and
all, by the warm funnel, and soon slept the deep sleep of fatigue and
exhaustion. Few of us cared whether to-morrow’s sun rose upon us dead
or living. Not one of us had tasted food since noon. It was six in
the evening when we landed, and two in the morning of the 26th before
the last of the survivors were brought off from the mud; no wonder,
therefore, that the combined effect of hunger, toil, disgrace and
disaster produced such a feeling of utter indifference and dejection.
But for that nip of brandy from the marine officer’s flask, I, too,
might have given in before the rescue came.