During the days between June 8th and August 14th, 1900 A.D., many brave
deeds were seen and applauded by the foreigners shut within the walls
of Peking. They will go down in history and make fascinating the story
of the siege of Peking. The world will never tire of reading of the
charges made to capture cannon that were sending their shells into the
British Legation, and of the bravery of the Japanese who held the
Prince’s palace through fire, shot, and shell: Only twenty-five in
number when they entered the city, by August 14th only three had not
been killed or wounded. The brave British soldier went to his dangerous
post not knowing when a stray bullet would pick him off. Only those who
held the outposts can know what bravery it required during some of
those awful night attacks. Those who worked in the hospital know what
courage it required in the poor wounded men to keep on their beds when
it seemed as if the enemy were breaking in. The experiences of the
brave messengers have been given to the world; and the story of the
rescue party, headed by Dr. Morrison of the London Times, by which
several hundred Catholic Christians were saved, has also stirred the
hearts of many.
The brave deed to which the writer calls attention is known to but few,
will probably never be recorded in song or story, and yet it took the
truest courage, and reveals as true heroism as was ever heralded
abroad. Those who have read the events of the past summer carefully
will remember that the missionaries and many hundreds of converts were
in semi-siege at the M. E. Mission for twelve days before going to the
British Legation. We had a guard of twenty American marines. The chapel
there had been barricaded and was to be the place of retreat in case of
an attack from Boxers. Captain Hall had asked some of the foreign
ladies to have charge of getting the Chinese women and children into
the chapel when the order was given. He also had told us we must
impress upon the women the necessity of keeping the children perfectly
quiet. In case of an attack the crying of children would not only annoy
the soldiers, but might interfere with their hearing commands, and
would also give a range to the enemy. Much was said to the poor mothers
along this line because Chinese women, as a rule, have little thought
and less method in training their children.
June 13th, about half-past six, we were startled by the news that the
front chapel was in flames; a moment or two after came the word for all
women to get to the chapel. The Boxers had started down the street
toward the place we were in, but had been charged and driven back by
the marines, under Captain Hall. It was feared that they might rally
for another attack and come with a stronger force. We were given five
minutes to get the women and children into the chapel. They came along
very quietly and without any disturbance.
After we were all in we asked the soldiers on guard to let us go once
more through the house set aside for the Chinese. We feared some might
have been left behind. At first they said no, but finally gave us five
minutes, and we fairly flew from court to court and room to room. At
last we reached one of the schoolrooms, and there in the dark, crouched
among the seats, were two women and four little children. “Why are you
here, did you not get the message? Hurry, hurry, or we shall be too
late!” were our questions and exclamations. “Yes,” they said, “we did,
but we were afraid our children would cry and endanger all the others.
Our babies are sick and cry all the time and we thought it better that
we die outside than to make others suffer with us.” It took but a
moment to get the story, get them out from under the seat, and on the
way to the chapel. We promised to help them with their little ones and
their look of gratitude was most touching. The fathers of these
children were out protecting the courts, and the two brave women were
ready to die rather than seek shelter when in so doing they might
endanger and bring disaster upon others. When they decided to stay
outside they were as true martyrs as any who went to the block. They
gave up their lives in order, as they thought, to save others. “Greater
love hath no man than this.”
“For such Death’s portal opens not in gloom,
But its pure crystal, hinged on solid gold,
Shows avenues interminable—shows
Amaranth and palm quivering in sweet accord
Of human, mingled with angelic, song.”