_REFLECTIONS, INCIDENTS, AND MEMORANDA WRITTEN DURING SIEGE_
[Illustration: WANG
Minister Conger’s head servant]
ONE OF the most noticeable effects of siege-life has been to bring
out into prominence all the mean and selfish characteristics of the
individual, as well as the heroic and self-sacrificing. People who
in times of peace pass for very nice, sociable individuals, with no
particularly mean tendencies, when subjected to deprivation in the
food-supply, and their nerves become a bit shattered with the sound of
whistling bullets, the shrieking of flying shells, or the dull thud
followed by the crashing and grinding of solid shot, show up in their
true bedrock character, and are meanness to the core.
It has been most interesting to observe the dissolution of previous
friendships, often of years’ standing, and the making of new ones
between individuals formerly more or less at variance. This has come
about sometimes from a man or woman with a sick child, or sick member
of his or her family having no supplies of their own, begging a tin
of milk or a can of soup or some little delicacy or necessity from a
friend having abundance of stores. Upon a flat refusal on the ground
that he has none he can spare, the aforetime friend realizes the depth
of the former friendship and has no wish to continue it.
Again, another instance: A gentleman has gone to inquire of a person
in authority in a certain establishment, where he is to move another
gentleman, a mutual friend, ill and unable to take care of himself,
to a place of safety, from quarters no longer tenable, and is told:
“If you have been near the sick man, keep away from me. Do what you
please with him, only keep away from me and mine, as we are fearful
of contagion.” “But what do you advise?” persists the inquirer of his
quondam friend and superior. “I don’t advise anything,” is the reply.
“Is he to be left alone to die or be captured, where he is?” still
persists the anxious friend. “That is none of my business,” is the
heartless answer, destroying a friendship which had existed for twenty
years.
Then, too, it has been an interesting study to watch the effects on the
optimistic man and the pessimistic man of the various rumors that have
drifted in through occasional reports from captives or deserters from
the enemy’s troops.
The optimist believes that our enemies are discouraged, are short of
ammunition, are fighting among themselves, are firing high purposely
not to injure us; that the relief force is very near, that flashes of
heat lightning are search-lights of our friends, etc.
The pessimist believes the powers are fighting among themselves to
prevent relief until no one power has more troops in the relief than
any other; scouts the idea of search-lights; says that the provisions
are nearly exhausted; sees new barricades erected by the enemy every
night; recounts the fatal casualties, increasing each day, and notes
the diminishing strength of the remainder, and, moreover, fully
believes and constantly asserts that we are only staving off for a
little while an inevitable general massacre.
One must admit that to know that eleven of the powers of the world are
kept away, or are staying away, from relieving their ministers, with
their families and nationals, for two months, at a distance of only
eighty miles from navigation by large vessels, is a circumstance rather
calculated to increase pessimism.
[Illustration: A WOMAN OF NORTH CHINA
It is not easy to obtain pictures of the women of the upper classes of
China. The beautiful cape with the elaborate embroidery, the little
feet mounted upon pedestals, and that sign of high nobility, the long
finger nails, shown by nail protectors on the third and fourth fingers
of the left hand, are evidences that this woman is of China’s “four
hundred.”]
Before the siege began I heard the United States minister say that if
the Boxers destroyed a single station on the Peking-Hankow railroad,
known popularly as the Lu Han road, they would have a horde of Cossacks
protecting the line within a fortnight. Yet of the 15,000 Russians
reported to have been in Port Arthur, when the entire Lu Han line
and the Peking-Tientsin railroad was destroyed, not a man has as yet
(August 13th) reached Peking. The Boxers are still seen from our
loopholes, and make our nights hideous with their horn-blowing and
incessant rifle-fire.
We were also told by those wiseacres, the foreign ministers, that
Japan could and would have 50,000 men in Peking if one member of their
legation was injured. Their second and third secretaries have been
killed, their legation guard has been almost annihilated, and we see,
as yet, no new Japanese faces.
Again, Captain Myers assured us the Americans could easily spare 10,000
men from the Philippines, who could reach Peking in, at longest, two
weeks; but two months have now gone by, and they have not materialized.
The people who have, on the whole, stood the siege best are the
missionaries. They have been more crowded than any others, all the
Americans being compelled to occupy the British legation chapel, where
they are, indeed, closely packed, while the English missionaries occupy
part of the first secretary’s house.
The Americans have formed into two messes, the Presbyterians and
Methodists eating at one time, the Congregationalists, who are in the
majority, at another. They brought in with them considerable provisions
in the way of tinned stores, but have been compelled to draw from their
commissariat their supply of rice and cracked wheat every day.
The foreign ministers guaranteed the three shopkeepers of Peking,
Messrs. Krueger, of Kierullf & Co., Imbeck, and Chamot, the amount
of their stock if they would turn it into a commissary’s hands for
distribution to the entire community as needed. This was at once done,
and a commissary department appointed to take charge.
Many of the besieged owned ponies or mules, which were also placed
under a committee, consisting of Messrs. Dering, Allardyce, and
Brazier. One or two of these animals have been killed each day, and
each person (foreigner) has been allowed to draw half a pound of meat.
Many at first could not be persuaded to even taste horse-meat or
mule-meat; but after several weeks of siege-life there were very few
who did not daily go to the butchery for their supply.
The meat has been inspected every day by a physician, and a certificate
of healthy flesh given to the butcher before the meat was allowed to
be dispensed. One of the British marines, William Betts, of the Royal
Marine Light Infantry, had been a butcher previous to enlistment, and
his services have been most valuable to the entire community.
The Chinese coolies are fed with soup made from the bones, the head,
and cleaned entrails. Not an ounce of the flesh has been wasted.
[Illustration: A PEKING BELLE
Perhaps, after looking at this picture, there will not be so much
wonder that occasionally a Caucasian selects a Chinese girl for a wife.
That there are very attractive Chinese girls this picture evidences.
The clothing, the ornaments, and the surroundings are all typical.]
Many of the ponies that took part in the Peking spring meeting as
racers, last May, have since served us with juicy steaks or toothsome
sausages. The mule-meat is considered to be better, on the whole, than
horse-meat, and in this opinion I fully concur. As we have only one
donkey in the compound, none of us has as yet tried donkey-flesh; but
the Chinese assure us it is even better than the larger animals.
Several days since one of the two cows in the compound, having gone
dry, was killed for food, and a notice was placed on the bulletin board
at the bell-tower that applications for portions of the meat would be
received from all women and children, but that only such men as were
wounded or ill could, upon a physician’s certificate, receive a portion.
Every one wanted some, expecting to highly enjoy a taste of fresh beef
and a change from horse. The result was most disappointing. The cow was
old and tough, and her flesh infinitely inferior to the regular ration
of horse or mule.
The Chinese Christians, supported by us in the Su Wang Fu, having been
for weeks upon nothing but cracked wheat or “hao liang” gruel, were
longing for some animal food, and begged they might be given some of
the dogs that continued to come from all over the city to feed each
night upon the refuse in the moat between the Su Wang Fu and the
British legation.
A few foreigners with shotguns, therefore, sallied forth yesterday
and killed eight good-sized specimens of the canine race, that were
forthwith handed over to the hungry converts for their consumption.
Dog-hunting as a food supply will not be neglected in the future.
As after July 18th the shelling ceased, and some of the enemies’
soldiers, with an eye to business, brought a few eggs to the Japanese
barricade for sale, a market department was established and placed
under the care of Messrs. A. D. Brent and J. M. Allardyce, where eggs
could be obtained _pro rata_ for numbers of women and children in a
household, compared with the supply on hand. These eggs were sold at
four cents each. But often the supply only admitted of one egg being
sold to a household of women or children. At other times an egg each
could be obtained daily. But alas! the Chinese soldiers soon found out
what their soldiers were doing, and promptly stopped it, so that after
August 6th the market was obliged to close from lack of eggs.
On July 20th, two days after the shelling ceased, the tsung-li-yamen
sent a present to the ministers of one hundred watermelons, seventy
eggplants, sixty vegetable squashes, and one hundred cucumbers. Some
few of the besieged, besides the diplomats, thus obtained the first
taste of fresh vegetables they had enjoyed for a month.
The ministers’ request to the yamen that vegetable-venders be allowed
to come to the barricades or the great gate, however, was denied,
and we have since had no further supply. It is hard to know that
within half a mile of us in any direction there is an abundance of
fresh fruits and vegetables, and yet, owing to the closeness of our
investment by the hostile troops, we cannot obtain a cent’s worth.
On August 5th, while I was standing talking with a Japanese sentry,
on an outpost barricade of the Su Wang Fu, a Chinese soldier in full
uniform walked quickly up the narrow lane our barricade commanded
toward us. I called on the Japanese to fire on him, but he remarked:
“Let him come on; he has no gun, and may want to sell something.”
True enough, just before reaching us he held up his hand in front of
his face to indicate that he wished to speak, and so was allowed to
come around the corner of the barricade. He was a young man of not over
twenty-five, but showed the marks of being a confirmed opium-eater.
“I have brought you some eggs,” he remarked, hastily exposing ten of
the precious ovules to view. The Jap counted out forty cents and gave
him, and advised him to clear out, which he speedily did, remarking as
he left: “I will lose my head if I am caught at this.” As he could buy
the eggs in the market for five cents, his percentage of profit was
very handsome.
[Illustration: Chinese gentleman entertaining a friend with an opium
pipe]
After the so-called truce of July 18th, the native soldiers occupying
the wall to the east of the American marines’ barricade strictly
observed the terms of the truce, and never either enlarged their
barricade nor fired another shot.
These were the only ones, however, who did so. From all the other
barricades we were frequently fired on, and every night or two a
vigorous attack would be made upon us, during which the Chinese would
expend many hundred rounds of ammunition, firing their rifles into our
barricades or the roofs of our houses, and scarcely doing any damage,
as we would all seek shelter until the enemy were tired out.
Only once or twice did they actually come out from behind their
barricades with the intention apparently of rushing us; but upon
receiving a volley, and having several killed or wounded, they would
hastily bolt back again to cover.
One night the author was selected by Adjutant Squiers to lead a company
of ten coolies in an attempt to remove the stinking carcasses of two
mules that had been lying festering in the rays of the summer sun
for several days, directly under the noses of the American marines
entrenched at foot of the city wall. The stench they emitted was
overpowering, but there seemed to be no way to remove them, as to show
a head, even, at the barricade was certain to bring a volley from the
Chinese on the wall to the east, just beyond the moat. The situation
having grown unendurable, it was necessary to risk life even to remove
them, and had to be attempted.
[Illustration: A corner in the reception room of a wealthy Chinese
gentleman, in Peking]
Mr. Squiers formed the plan to have ten coolies, under a foreigner,
go quietly at night through the alley-ways and court-yards that had
been cut through to communicate with the American legation, to the moat
directly under the Chinese on the wall. From thence we were to crawl
forward toward the barricade, where our men were warned not to fire
upon us, tie a rope around a mule, slip back toward the moat, and drag
the mule after us, and down into the moat, where it could subsequently
be covered with kerosene oil and burned.
With ten volunteer coolies, all dressed in dark clothes, and warned not
to speak or even whisper, I undertook the task.
We reached the position on the wall street without incident, and I was
congratulating myself we would succeed without the Chinese discovering
us, when one of the coolies unfortunately struck his foot against a tin
can and sent it rattling across the road. Instantly a volley was fired
upon us from the Chinese barricade, only some fifty yards distant, and
a perfect hail of bullets struck all about us.
“Drop on your faces and lie still,” I commanded in a hoarse whisper,
which was promptly obeyed.
We lay still for about fifteen minutes. Then I sent one coolie crawling
on toward the nearest mule, only ten yards away, and he soon had the
noose slipped over his head and returned.
We dragged the animal quietly enough, until just at the corner of the
bridge, where a lot of tins, bottles, and refuse had been dumped in
the early days of the siege, and before the Chinese had obtained their
present position by driving the Germans from the wall in the rear of
their legation.
When the animal passed over these obstacles a loud grating, rattling
noise was made, and a second volley poured down from the wall. But this
time the corners of the stone bridge protected us and we were in no
danger.
After another wait of fifteen minutes, during which time all became
quiet again, we returned and repeated the operation on the second
mule, dragging his fragrant (?) carcass alongside the first, and
completing our work under a third volley, equally harmless.
[Illustration: SOUTHERN WALL OF TARTAR CITY
This picture gives an idea of the vastness of the ancient defenses of
Peking and of the unhygienic character of its surroundings. Across the
canal are to be seen the straggling buildings of a Tartar village.
Immediately in the foreground lie the stagnant waters of the canal and
piles of reeking filth.]
I received the thanks of Mr. Squiers and the entire marine guard
for this service, as it rendered their position much more bearable
thereafter, and their gratitude fully repaid me for the danger incurred.
Directly across a moat leading from the Imperial city wall to the
southern wall of the Tartar city of Peking, opposite to the British
legation, is a large square compound, known in the local mandarin
tongue as Su Wang Fu, or in plain English as the palace of Prince Su.
This prince inherited the title from his father only two years ago. He
is a young man of rather pleasant appearance, about thirty years of
age. I have dined with him twice at the residence of his next younger
brother, who was a patient of mine last winter.
This compound is surrounded by a stout brick wall from twelve to
fifteen feet high. Lying, as the place does, in between the British and
Austrian legations, it was decided to take possession of it for the
thousand-odd Christian refugees, mostly Catholics, who had claimed the
protection of their teachers, the missionaries, when the cathedrals and
mission premises were burned.
The idea of doing this originated with Mr. F. H. James, who was killed
on the bridge by Kansu soldiers a few days after the occupation. Dr. G.
E. Morrison warmly seconded it, and the plan was carried out without
opposition from Prince Su or his retainers, as actual warfare had not
yet broken out.
This palace consists of a lot of rather fine (for Chinese buildings)
edifices, all of one story, arranged in a series of courts, with a
considerable park on the west side facing on the moat dividing the
palace from the British legation.
As less than a hundred yards’ space is taken up by the width of the
moat and the roadway on either side, it will be readily seen that to
hold this compound was to protect the entire east side of the British
legation from the Chinese fire.
Colonel Shiba, the Japanese commandant, with his twenty-five soldiers,
was first placed in charge, but later on he was reinforced from time to
time by detachments from the Austrians, Italians, British, and French
marines, and by the young men of the customs service, known as the
Customs volunteers.
The most determined efforts of the siege have been made by the Chinese
troops and Boxers to obtain possession of the palace—first, doubtless,
because it commanded the entire east wall of the British legation
at short range, and secondly, because they desired to exterminate
the thousand-odd refugees—men, women, and children—harbored there.
Consequently, the loss of life of our defenders and the number of
wounded brought from the Su Wang Fu into the hospital has greatly
exceeded that of any other one place.
To Colonel Shiba, its heroic defender, is due the greatest credit,
inasmuch as he has held the place for weeks, after the other commanders
had prophesied it would have to be given up in twenty-four hours.
This he has been enabled to do by building barricade after barricade
in the rear of his first line of defense, at often less than fifty
yards’ distance, and when one barricade was shelled until absolutely
untenable, retreating to the next strong position in his rear.
Colonel Shiba also enlisted all the Japanese civilians in the city,
and even trained twenty-five of the native Catholic converts into very
steady soldiers, arming them with rifles taken from the bodies of dead
soldiers of the enemy.
In addition to the military officers who arrived with the legation
guards, there happened to be in Peking at the commencement of the siege
two English captains, one to study Chinese, the other representing
a concession syndicate—Captains Poole and Percy Smith. Both of the
gentlemen have rendered efficient and valuable service, and, since the
death of Captain Strouts, have been on regular duty.
A curious fact, interesting alike to English and Americans, is that on
the Fourth of July, after Captain Myers had been wounded in the sortie
on the city wall the previous night, Captain Percy Smith commanded the
American marines in the trench on the wall all day, under hot fire from
cannon and rifles, and the marines speak in the highest terms of his
bravery and coolness, and his care for their comfort and safety.
Mr. E. von Strauch, formerly first lieutenant in the German army, but
now a member of the customs service, has also rendered valuable service
in relieving the officer in charge at all the various posts, such as
the city wall, held by the Americans; the Su Wang Fu, held by Colonel
Shiba; the Hanlin Yuan, held by the British, and other points outside
the legation. The men also express the highest regard for him.
So much for the outside officers. Among civilians deserving credit are
many who have daily and faithfully done the work apportioned to them
in capacities where they have been unnoticed, but where their work has
contributed much to the general comfort, and some of them at least
should be mentioned.
Messrs. Allardyce and Brazier in the meat supply department, Mr. S. M.
Russell in the commissary department, Mr. Stell in the coolie supply
department, Dr. Chauncey Goodrich and Messrs. Walker and Whiting in the
coolies’ food supply, together with Messrs. Tewkesbury, Hobart, and
Norris, all have steadily worked for the common good, often both day
and night.
It has been noticed by a great many Englishmen and others that the
Russians besieged with us have been of uniformly gentlemanly and
courteous bearing. They have won golden opinions from all, with the
exception, perhaps, of one intensely biased newspaper correspondent,
who reads in the most commonplace saying some deeply-concealed meaning,
and some unkind intention toward the British interests. A Russian
gentleman is a perfect gentleman, and uniformly a marvelous linguist.
I have several times been present in a room with a Frenchman, a
German, and an Italian, with whom several Russians carried on animated
conversations, addressing each man in his own language, and apparently
with equal fluency.
From M. de Giers, down through his whole legation, the professors of
Russian in the Imperial University and Tung Wen Kuan, the officers and
clerks of the Russo-Chinese bank, one can find none who are not perfect
gentlemen and most agreeable companions.
Baron von Radew, the captain in charge of the Russian marines, has been
a most devoted officer, and every point of his defenses has had his
constant personal supervision. He has never undressed to sleep in the
last two months, but has taken the broken rest he has obtained lying
in a steamer chair in one of his barricades. He has lost greatly in
flesh, and is but a skeleton of his former self, but remains the same
courteous officer and gentleman under circumstances that have altered
the dispositions of not a few.
[Illustration: HOUSE BOATS
Used for interior travel on Chinese rivers. Families pass their entire
existence on these boats. Some are fitted very comfortably.]
If the diplomatic corps in Peking could only have heard the many and
varied contemptuous remarks made about them by their own nationals,
both before and during the siege, they would perhaps have a new idea
of what their titles of “envoys extraordinary” meant. As I heard one
gentleman remark: “After this lot are disposed of, I hope they will
send us a set of ‘envoys ordinary’—common-sense kind of men, who have
eyes and ears.”
It is certainly marvelous that with the information so readily
obtainable as to the Boxer movement, its aims and intentions, and after
having it forced almost upon them, as the British, American and French
ministers certainly have had by their missionaries and others, the
diplomatic corps should have blindly allowed themselves to be penned
up in Peking with only a handful of guards, to endure treatment as
disgraceful as it has been unpleasant.
True, M. Pichon urged his colleagues early to send for legation
guards, and wanted them in larger numbers, but even he, after constant
assurances from Bishop Faner (who was perfectly informed as to the
gravity of the movement and the Imperial sanction), declined to act
independently and allowed the situation to proceed to the utmost
extremity before he believed the priest true and the tsung-li-yamen
false.
A very blue lot they have been during the siege. Although better fed
than the unfortunates—the results of their credulity—compelled to
suffer with them, they have not been pleasant company, and have been
allowed to flock together as birds of a feather, and discuss at length
the utter neglect of their home governments in not speedily rescuing
them.
The rest of us poor mortals have long since come to the conclusion that
our governments have found out their true value, and have decided they
are not worth a rescue.
The Belgian minister having arrived only a few weeks before the siege
began, is not to blame for the position, and he wonders as much as the
ordinary mortal how his colleagues could have allowed it to come to
pass.
Is it possible that England and America, if they had been informed of
the true state of affairs by their representatives, would not have
requested their ministers to notify all the foreign women and children
to leave the country?
When a foreign war is inevitable, even in a civilized country, it is
a necessity for non-combatants to leave. In a barbarous country it
means murder, often with torture, to remain; yet our missionaries
in Paotingfu and places inland were not warned that their district
troubles were not local, but general, and that they should hasten to
the coast, to be nearer protection.
Some of the wiser English people among us assert that “so far from
being blamed by their government for the siege, and loss of life
accompanying it, their minister will be praised for bringing us safely
through it, and receive a higher decoration if not a baronetcy; just as
he was rewarded before for failing to keep his government informed of
the Russians being the real owners of the Fu Haw railroad, receiving at
that time some alphabetical additions to his signature.”
John Brown is much improved by being called Sir John Brown, P. I.
G.—which may mean “perfectly independent gentleman.”
Posterity, however, will read of this siege with amazement, and wonder
how so many blind and deaf men came to be appointed to the same post at
one time. Truly a remarkable coincidence.