A walk through the town--Still alive--The Red Cross--A
pandemonium--Dividing loot--A pawnshop--Furs, gold and silk
embroideries.
I took a stroll through the town. The streets were narrow, and
everywhere you could smell dead bodies decomposing in the fearful heat.
You saw plenty of them about. Here you stumbled over a dead Boxer,
there, two or three Imperial soldiers lay in a heap, fearfully gashed
by a shell. Did you not hear a moan? Listen! Yes! That fat Chinaman
lying in a pool of blood was still alive. As I stooped over him to
ask him if he wanted some water--the only assistance one could render
him--he closed his eyes. He did not answer, and held his breath,
pretending to be dead. Many were the poor devils that were left about
to die for want of assistance, as the Red Cross did not extend its work
to the Chinese.
Avoiding the streets where all the houses were on fire, and peeping
into every door--where one saw sights of all kinds--here we were
at last before a large gateway, into and out of which a crowd of
Europeans, Pathans, Americans, and Chinese were madly rushing. The
fellows who violently forced their way in had nothing, those who
were shot out by the people pushing behind them were balancing
with difficulty, on their heads or upstretched arms, large boxes
overflowing with goods, or large bundles, or handfuls of jewellery
or furs. This promised to be an interesting sight. I went in. The
pressure of the crowd was extreme. One ran short of breath almost to
suffocation. Going through the door--the narrowest point, where every
one was trying to get in at once--one felt one’s ribs were giving way
to the pressure in front, behind, and sideways, but at last, when once
inside the building, a large, dark hall, one could breathe freely
again, wipe the copious perspiration running down forehead, cheeks, and
neck, and sit down on the floor for a while to take the needed rest.
[Sidenote: MORE LOOTING]
[Illustration: AN IMPERIAL DEFENDER OF THE CITY]
But what a noise! the buzzing of the crowd fighting its way in and
out, and running through this hall and out into the next portion of
the building, the din of metal being tested on the stone floor, the
wild cries and yells of looters who in their turn were looted by
neighbouring looters, crossed and mingled with one another. Coming from
the brilliant sun, your eyes needed to become accustomed to the light
of this first hall; then you saw to your right a number of European
soldiers squatting down, counting silver coins, of which they had a
pile, sorting out jewellery, of which they had another pile, and big
lumps of silver, of which they had a third pile. There were about
eight of them, and according to the general idea I suppose they ought
to have quarrelled, even fought with revolvers in hand, over the fair
division of the stolen property, but they did not. They were as quiet,
as well-behaved, as matter-of-fact over their employment as so many
honest men! One might have thought that they were carrying on a legal
brotherly trade, of which they were now sharing the due profits.
Once in the human current, one pushed his way through the next door.
One was lifted right off one’s feet, and, if one was fortunate enough
to avoid being jammed against either pillar of the door, one found
oneself in a spacious courtyard crammed with people, empty trunks,
boxes, baskets, clothes, hats, broken furniture and china, pewter
candlesticks, bronzes and goods of every description scattered
pell-mell everywhere. Apparently the chief point of interest was
yet further on. All the people were forcing their way into the next
building. Gradually working one’s way, one succeeded in penetrating
into a huge room, but so dark that it took some time before one could
see anything at all, though there was plenty to hear!
What pandemonium! and how the eyes smarted and ached from the dust
and dirt with which the air seemed thick, while throats were dry and
coughing. Eventually, when my eyes got accustomed to the dim light, I
stooped to see where I was putting my feet, for priceless brocades,
bronze candlesticks, furs, and other such things, were underfoot. A
large box dropped from close to the ceiling, some thirty feet above,
and came within an inch of striking me on the head. I say that it came
from near the ceiling, for on looking up to remonstrate I perceived
a Pathan, who had climbed to the top of the bamboo scaffolding that
served as shelves, into which the room had been divided, leaving
narrow passages between scaffold and scaffold. This man, regardless
of the safety of his fellow beings standing below, dropped another
large box, no less than four feet square and two deep, which, like the
preceding one, burst right open on striking the ground. Here a dozen
arms outstretched from all sides pulled at valuable furs, such as
silver fox, otter, white wolf, seal, squirrel, all lining gaudy coats
of magnificent brocade or silk. Some were embroidered in gold, others
in delicate silks, and were the patient work of years.
[Sidenote: EMBROIDERIES, FURS, ETC.]
The Pathan, climbing down with the agility of a monkey from his
high point of vantage, was just in time to snatch out of the box a
bundle containing silver coins, a gold comb, several gold rings, two
bracelets, and various other trinkets. He now threw the empty box aside
and proceeded to inspect the contents of the first box, which was below.
I never saw such lovely furs. Here were two most beautiful long coats
of yellow brocade, lined with white Persian unborn lamb, and yet
another coat of the best Tibetan goat. As the Mahommedan dived further
and further into the box, out came more sealskin, more silver fox,
astrachan, more magnificent embroideries.
“They are beautiful,” I remarked in Hindustani to the Pathan.
“_Neh, Sahib, bura crab!_” (“No, sir, they are very bad!”) he answered,
with a disappointed air. He, too, cared for nothing but gold and
silver. Everything else was of no value to him. He threw all aside and
proceeded to undo the numberless bundles that were stacked on the tall
shelves to his right. These too, to his disgust, contained only silks
and brocades, or rolls of silk crape.
The noise, dust, and heat inside the room were unbearable, and when to
all this was added the sight of several prominent Tientsin residents,
of no mean rotund proportions, climbing overhead to the top shelves
(the lower ones having already been looted), I thought it was high
time for me to depart. I forced my way out of the pawnshop--for it was
a pawnshop--and when I got out into the open the stifling air seemed
quite cool and refreshing by comparison with the foul temperature
indoors. It is well known that pawnshops in China do not exactly
correspond to ours, but are used more as storehouses by all the
natives, rich and poor alike. In winter all the summer clothes, jewels,
&c., are stored in them for safe keeping and preservation, and in
summer all the furs and warm clothing. Money and valuables not needed
are also left in safe keeping of these pawnshops, which are under
Government supervision.