The general advance, which had been from the outer city, as soon as the news had been brought through that a way to the Legations had been opened, had thrown the various units into an immense confusion. Infantry, cavalry, artillery, and the fighting trains, were all mixed in a terrible tangle. Some had come forward so rapidly, in their eagerness not to be left out of it all, that they had passed in under the walls as soon as the gates had been burst open, and had now got jammed into our narrow streets and were unable to move. Just under the ramp of the Tartar Wall I came on some Indian cavalry—about thirty or forty troopers covered with mud and dirt, and led by a single British officer. As soon as the latter caught sight of me, he shouted an angry question as to what all this firing meant, and how in h—— he could get out of this into the open.... He rained his questions at me like the others had done, never waiting for an answer. The firing, in all truth, had increased enormously, and now rang out with a most tremendous roar. It always came from over there to the northwest, round about the Palace entrances. Evidently Chinese troops were holding all the Palace gates in great force, and for some reason wished to keep the relief columns at bay at all costs until nightfall. I yelled something of this to my disconsolate cavalry officer, and suggested that he should follow me up the wall and see for himself. I knew nothing. "Cavalry can't climb a wall," he furiously replied as I rushed up above, and as I climbed higher that voice followed me in gusts which became fainter and fainter, "Cavalry can't climb a wall! cavalry can't climb a wall!" Then the road blotted him and his voice completely out and a swelling scene was before me.

For up there I soon understood. A mass of Indian infantry, with some machine-guns, had established themselves for hundreds of yards along this commanding height, among the old Chinese barricades, and were now firing as fast as they could down into the distant Palace enclosures. Overhead bullets were passing in continuous streams, and crouching low in an angle of the buttresses lay a number of wounded men. Of the enemy, however, there was no sign to be seen; that he was firing back more and more quickly and desperately was certain. All these bullets....

As I stood and looked, suddenly the horrid bark of the modern high-velocity field-gun began down below in our lines, and the word passed along that a British battery had succeeded in getting through the jam, and was opening on the enemy from just outside the Legations. The barking went on very rapidly for a few minutes, and then ceased as suddenly as it had begun. The cause was not long to seek; an infantry advance had followed, for without any warning swarms of Chinese riflemen began running out from the nests of ruined Chinese houses a few hundred yards to the rear of our old lines. They came out in rapid rushes just as flights of startled sparrows dart over the ground, and, although very distant, from the commanding height of the Tartar Wall they offered a splendid mark. The rifles rattled at them as hard as possible, but the practice was as poor as ever. Of the first batch a dozen fell and began crawling and staggering away; but the next lot, although they ran and halted at first like dazed men under the sleet of nickel, rapidly became more cunning. All fell as if by some sudden signal on the ground, and crawling and jumping forward, they soon managed to push through without losing a single man, and immediately after this there was a droll incident such as only occurs at such times as these.

These bunches of men had ceased falling back in their sudden rout, and the firing of our men was being concentrated on some distant walls flanking the Palace enclosures, when a solitary Chinese rifleman, who had evidently been forgotten in the turmoil, trotted peacefully out. Then, seeing he was almost in the hands of his enemies, he ran like a hunted deer straight across a vast open, which lies directly in front of the Dynastic Gate—never seeking cover, but running like a madman in the open. It was wonderful.

A roar went up from our whole line when he was seen, but the infantry did not attempt to bring him down. A single machine-gun started rapping at him.... The man ran faster and faster as the swish of bullets hurtled around him, until his legs were twinkling so rapidly that he seemed to be fairly flying. The machine-gun went on rapping and clanging ever quicker as it followed him up, and it seemed at length impossible that he should get through. With a natural impulse, everybody's attention became concentrated on this fugitive: would he reach cover in safety? The answer came almost before one had thought the question, for with sudden disgust the machine-gun stopped dead; the man ran a few seconds longer, and then with a last bound he had disappeared—a tiny dot of blue and red flicking vaguely away behind some wall. Instinctively, then, some one began laughing; the next man took it up, and soon a roar of hoarse-throated laughter came from the hundreds of Indian soldiery who had witnessed the scene. It was like a scene in a theatre from that height, and I remember that this laughter of free men resounded in my ears for a long time—the laughter of free men who have never been enslaved in bricks. It came from straight off the chest, without any nervous nasal twanging or sudden stopping....

Soon after this the firing dropped and dwindled away to nothing, as if by common consent. Everybody was dog-tired, and as night fell both sides felt that nothing could be gained or materially changed until another day had dawned. I wandered round for the last time. Our lines, so carefully and painfully built up during those long never-ending weeks, had crumbled to pieces in half as many hours. The barricades and trenches obstructing the streets had been thrown all in a lump and sent to join the huge litter which surrounded them. There was hardly a sentry or a picquet to be seen, only a hundred of little camp-fires twinkling and twinkling everywhere. Such battalions and units as had pushed in had bivouacked exactly where they had halted. Far away under the Tartar Wall, on the long, sandy stretches, there were little wood fires blazing at regular intervals, with countless dots moving around. From a hundred other places there came that confused murmur which, speaks of masses of men and animals. There were faint cries, hoarse calls, and orders, with always a vague undercurrent trembling in the air. For the time being, they were only British and American troops—not a soldier of a single other nationality had been seen. As the hours went, other people, whose troops had not come in, began making excuses, and pretending that their generals were very wise in acting as they had done. There were all sorts of theories. Some said that they were securing all the gates of the city, and capturing the Court, and seeing to very important things. It was the political situation of three months ago being suddenly reborn, reincarnated, by all these people, before we had even breathed the air of freedom. It was for this that we had been rescued by the main body of the troops: merely because had we been all killed and all recent Peking history made an utter blank, there would have been a terrible gulf which no protocols could bridge. It would have meant an end, an absolute end, such as governments and their distinguished servants do not really love. We were mere puppets, whose rescue would set everything merrily dancing again—marionettes made the sport of mad events. We had merely saved diplomacy from an impossible situation....

As I stood there in the night, thinking of these things, and trying to escape from people with theories, a faint cheering arose, a hurrahing which somehow had but little vigour. I knew what it meant; the ground was being noisily cleared right up to the Palace walls, to make sure that none of the enemy were lurking in the ruins, and that the play could begin merrily on the morrow. After that cheering came a few dull explosions, the blowing-up of a few unnecessary walls, and then all was dead quiet again, excepting for the faint stirring of the soldiery encamped around us, which never ceased. There was not a volley, not a shot. It was all over, this siege, everything was finished.

With a growing blackness and distress in my heart, which I could not explain, and sought in vain to disguise, I wandered about. I wanted some more movement—some fresh distraction to tear my attention away from gloomy thoughts.

Near the battered Hotel de Pekin officers who had strayed from their commands and who were hungry had already gathered, and were paying in gold for anything they could buy. Luckily, there were a few cases of champagne left and a few tins of potted things, which could now be tranquilly sold. I found some French uniforms. Some officers had at last come in from the French commander, saying that at daylight the French columns would march in. At present they were too exhausted to move.

All these men, seated at the tables, were noisily discussing the relief. I learned how it had been effected and the moves of the few preceding days. They said that the Russians had attempted to steal a march on the Japanese on the night of the 13th, in order to force the Eastern gates, and reach the Imperial city and the Empress Dowager before any one else. That had upset the whole plan of attack, and there had then simply been a mad rush, everyone going as hard as possible, and trusting to Providence to pull them through.

Most of the officers at the tables soon became highly elated. That is the way when your stomach has been fed on hard rations and you have had fourteen days of the sun. They then all began shouting and singing and not talking so much. But still they were all devilishly keen to know about the siege, and who had fought best, and who had been killed.

I left them in what remains of a little barricaded and fortified hotel disputing away in rather a foolish fashion, because they were more or less inebriate and the sun had burned them badly. And speeding to my cache, I drew out my two blankets and my waterproof. While I had been forgetting other things, I had learned two new things—how to sleep and how to shoot—and now since there was no more need to practise the one, I would do the other.



PART III-THE SACK

I

THE PALACE

16th August, 1900.

* * * * *

The next morning (which was only yesterday!) I awoke in much the same strange despondency. Around me, as the grey light stole softly into my lean-to, everything was absolutely quiet. It was the same in every way as it had been the morning after the last terrible night; and yet that was already so long ago! Almost mechanically, I searched the breast pocket of my soil-worn shirt for the previous day's orders, so as to see about picquet posting; then I remembered suddenly, with a curious heart-sinking, that it was all over, finished, completed.... It was so strange that it should be so—that everything should have come so suddenly to an end. After all those experiences, to be lying on the ground like some tramp in Europe, without a thing to one's name, was to be merely grotesque and incongruous. Yet it was necessary to become accustomed immediately to the idea that one belonged to the ordinary world, where one would not be distinguished from one's fellow; where everything was quiet and orderly.... And I was separated from this by such a mighty gulf. I knew so many things now. What! was I no longer to experience that supreme delight of shooting and being shot at—of that unending excitement? Oh! was it really over?...

I got up, and shook myself disconsolately, retied what remained of a neckcloth, and then looked in disgust at my boots. My boots! Two and a half months' work and sleep in them—my only pair—had not improved their appearance. Yet I had not even suspected that before; the evil fruit of relief had made my nakedness clear....

Alongside the whole post of ten men was still peacefully slumbering—regulars and volunteers heaped impartially together. Poor devils! Each one, after the enormous excitement of the relief, had come back mechanically to his accustomed place, because this strange life of ours, imposed by the discipline of events, has become a second nature, which we scarcely know how to shake off. Like tired dogs, we still creep into our holes. The youngest were moaning and tossing, as they have done every night for weeks past—shaking off sleep like a harmful narcotic, because the poison of fighting is too strong for most blood in these degenerate days. What sounds have I not heard during the past two months—what sighs, what gasps, what groans, what muttered protests! When men lie asleep, their imaginations betray their secret thoughts....

Day had not broken properly before the murmur and movements of the night before rose again. This time, as I looked around me, they were more marked—as if the relieving forces had become half accustomed to their strange surroundings, and were acting with the freedom of familiarity. There were bugle-calls and trumpet-calls, the neighing and whinnying of horses, the rumble of heavy waggons, calls and cries.... But hidden by the high walls and the barricades, nothing could be seen. We got something to eat, and, wishing to explore, I marched down to the dry canal-bed, jumped in, and made for the Water-Gate, through which the first men had come. In a few steps I was outside the Tartar Wall, for the first time for nearly three long months. At last there was something to be seen. Far along here, there were nothing but bivouacs of soldiery moving uneasily like ants suddenly disturbed, and as I tramped through the sand towards the great Ch'ien Men Gate I could see columns of other men, already in movement, though day had just come, winding in and out from the outer Chinese city. Thick pillars of smoke, that hung dully in the morning air, were rising in the distance as if fire had been set to many buildings; but apart from these marching troops there was not a living soul to be seen. The ruins and the houses had become mere landmarks and the city a veritable desert.

I wandered about listlessly and exchanged small talk disconsolately with numbers of people. Nobody knew what was going to happen, but everybody was trying to learn from somebody else. The wildest rumours were circulating. The Russians and Japanese had disappeared through the Eastern Gates of the city, and the gossip was that each, in trying to steal a march on the other, had knocked up against large bodies of Chinese troops, who, still retaining their discipline, had stood their ground and inflicted heavy losses on the rivals. But whether this was true or not, there was, for the time being, no means of knowing. I thought of my last rifle-shots of the siege at those endless white and black dots, which had suddenly debouched on that long, dusty street, and held my tongue. Idly we waited to see what was going to happen. After so many climaxes one's imagination totally failed.

It was still very early in the morning when, without any warning, gallopers came suddenly from the American headquarters and set all the soldiery in motion. I remember that it seemed only a few minutes before the American infantry had become massed all round the southern entrances to the Palace, while with a quickness which came as an odd surprise to me after the deliberation of the siege field-guns suddenly opened on the Imperial Gates. A number of shells were pitched against the huge iron-clamped entrances at a range of a few hundred yards with a horrid coughing, and presently, yielding to this bombardment, with a crash the first line had been beaten to the ground. I understood then why the powerful American Gatlings had been kept playing on the fringe of walls and roofs beyond; for as the infantry charged forward in some confusion, with their cheering and bugling filling the air, the dusting Chinese fire, which we knew so well, rang out with an unending rattle and hissing. Thousands of riflemen had been silently lying inside the Palace enclosures ever since the previous afternoon waiting for this opportunity. It was the last act. Well, it had come....

The Chinese fire was partially effective, for as I ran forward through the burst and bent gates, panting as if my heart would break, a trickle of wounded American soldiers came slowly filing out. Some were hobbling, unsupported, with pale faces, and some were being carried quite motionless. On the ground of this first vast enclosure, which was hundreds and hundreds of yards long and entirely paved with stone, were a number of Chinese dead—men of some resolution, who had met the charge in the open and died like soldiers. That, indeed, had been our own experience. Even with the ambiguous orders which must have been given in every command ranged against us, there were always men who could not be restrained, but charged right up to our bayonets.... Now as I ran forward firing was going on just as heavily, and the ugly rush and swish of bullets filled the air with war's rude music. It seemed curious to me that everyone should be out in the open with no cover; after a siege one has queer ideas.

The bursting of this first set of gates meant very little, as I personally knew full well, for immediately beyond was a far more powerful line, with immense pink walls heaving straight up into the air. The Tartar conquerors, who had designed this Palace, had with good purpose made their Imperial residence a last citadel in the huge city of Peking—a citadel which could be easily defended to the death in the old days even when the enemy had seized all the outer walls, for without powerful cannon the place was impregnable. On the sky-line of this great outer wall Chinese riflemen, with immense audacity, still remained, and as I ran for cover rifles were quickly and furiously discharged at me.... Presently the American guns came rapidly forward, but their commanders were wary, and did not seem to like to risk them too close. There was a short lull, while immense scaling ladders, made by the Americans for attacking the city walls in case the relief had failed to get in any other way, were rushed up. The idea was evidently to storm the walls and batter in the gates, line upon line, until the Imperial residences were reached and the inmost square taken. It might take many hours if there was much resistance. The area to be covered was immense. To the north a faint booming proclaimed that other forces, perhaps the Russians and the Japanese still in rivalry, were at work on this huge Forbidden City, racing once more to see that neither got the advantage of the other. ... All this meant slow work without startling developments. Everybody was moving very deliberately, as if time was of no value. A new idea came into my head. It was impossible to cover such distances continually on foot without becoming exhausted. Already I was tired out. I must seize a mount somewhere before it was too late. I must go back.

Trotting quickly, I reached the Legation area to find that the scene had changed. The ruined streets were once again filled with troops. The transport and fighting trains of a number of Indian regiments, which had spent the night somewhere in the outer Chinese city, had evidently been hurriedly pushed forward at daylight to be ready for any eventualities. Ambulance corps and some very heavy artillery were mixed with all these moving men and kicking animals in hopeless confusion, and rude shouts and curses filled the air as all tried to push forward. Among these countless animals and their jostling drivers it was almost impossible to fight one's way; but with a struggle I reached the dry canal, and, once more jumping down, I had a road to myself. I went straight along it.

Under the Tartar Wall, as I climbed again to the ground-level, I met the head of fresh columns of men. This time they were white troops—French Infanterie Coloniale, in dusty blue suits of torn and discoloured Nankeen. There must have been thousands of them, for after some delay they got into movement, and, enveloped in thick clouds of dust, these solid companies of blue uniforms, crowned with dirty-white helmets, started filing past me in an endless stream. The officers were riding up and down the line, calling on the men to exert themselves, and to hurry, hurry, hurry. But the rank and file were pitifully exhausted, and their white, drawn faces spoke only of the fever-haunted swamps of Tonkin, whence they had been summoned to participate in this frantic march on the capital. They had always been behind, I heard, and had only been hurried up by constant forced marching, which left the men mutinous and valueless. Once again they were being hurried not to be too late....

I only lost these troops to find myself crushed in by long lines of mountain artillery carried on mules, and led by strange-looking Annamites. In a thin line they stretched away until I could only divine how many there were. These batteries, however, were not going forward, and to my surprise I found the guns being suddenly loaded and hauled to the top of the Tartar Wall up one of the ramparts which had been our salvation. This was a new development, and in my interest, forgetting my pony, I ran up, too.

Up there I found a mass of people, mostly comprising those who had been spectators rather than actors in the siege. I remember being seized with strange feelings when I saw their little air of derision and their sneers as they looked down towards the Palace in pleasurable anticipation. They imagined, these self-satisfied people who had done so little to defend themselves, that a day of reckoning had at last come when they would be able to do as they liked towards this detestable Palace, which had given them so many unhappy hours. It would all be destroyed, burned. Little did they know!

Soon enough these small French batteries of light guns came into action, and sent a stream of little shells into the Palace enclosures a couple of thousand yards away. The majority pitched on the gaudy roofs of Imperial pavilions far inside the Palace grounds, bursting into pretty little fleecy clouds, and starting small smouldering fires that suddenly died down before they had done much damage. But a number fell short, and swept enclosures where I knew American soldiery had already penetrated. I drew my breath, but said nothing....

The view from here was perfect. The sun had risen and was shining brightly. Directly below lay the ruined Legations, with their rude fortifications and thousands of surrounding native houses levelled flat to the ground; but beyond, for many miles, stretched the vast city of Peking, dead silent, excepting for these now accustomed sounds of war, and half hidden by myriads of trees, which did not allow one to see clearly what was taking place. The Palace, with its immense walls, its yellow roofs, and its vast open places, lay mysteriously quiet, too, while this punishment was meted out on it. You could not understand what was going on. To the very far north a heavy cloud, which had already attracted my attention, now rose blacker and blacker, until it spread like a pall on the bright sky. Cossacks or Japanese, who by this time had swept over the entire ground, must have met with resistance; they were burning and sacking, and a huge conflagration had been started.

For a quarter of an hour and more I watched in an idle, tired curiosity, which I could not explain, those little French shells bursting far away and falling short, and presently, as I expected, the inevitable happened. A young American officer rode up and began shouting angrily up to the Wall. I knew exactly what he meant, but everybody was so interested that he remained unnoticed. And so, presently, more furious than ever, he dismounted and rushed up red with rage. He Was so angry that he was funny. He wanted to know if the commander of these d—— pop-guns knew what he was firing at, and whether he could not see the United States army in full occupation of the bombarded points. He swore and he cursed and he gesticulated, until finally cease fire was sounded and the guns were ordered down. All the Frenchmen were furious, and I saw P——, the Minster, go down in company with the gaunt-looking Spanish doyen, vowing vengeance and declaiming loudly that if they were stopped everybody must be stopped too. There must be no favouring; that they would not have. I understood, then, why the mountain guns had come so quickly into action; they were gaining time for that exhausted colonial infantry to get round to some convenient spot and begin a separate attack. It was each one for himself.

Somehow I understood now that it was a useless time for ceremony, and that one must act just as one wished. So, finding some ponies tethered to a post below, without a word I mounted one and rode rapidly back to the Palace. For an instant, as I passed the great Ch'ien Men Gate, I could see Indian troops filing out in their hundreds, and forcing a path through the press of incoming transport and guns. Evidently the British commanders considered that the thing was over; that it was no use going on. Already they had had enough of our Peking methods....

I must have ridden nearly a mile straight through the vast enclosures of the Palace, past lines and lines of American infantry lying on the ground, with the reserve artillery trains halted under cover of high walls, before I saw ahead of me a set of gates which were still unbroken. General firing had quite ceased now, and excepting for an occasional shot coming from some distant corner, there was no sound. The bulk of the American infantry had not even been advanced as far as I had come. A skirmishing line, evidently formed only a short time before my arrival, was still lying on the ground; but the men were laughing and smoking, and the officers had withdrawn out of the heat of the sun into a side building, where they were examining a map. The scaling-ladders were left behind. I was soon told that orders had come direct from headquarters to stop the attack absolutely, and not to advance an inch further on any consideration. The inner courts of the Palace and the residences of the Emperor and the Empress Dowager could not be approached until concerted action had been taken up by all the Allies. I laughed—it was the hydra-headed diplomacy of Peking raising its head defiantly less than eighteen hours after the first soldiers had rushed in....

The massive set of gates in front of me were those just without a most beautiful marble courtyard. That I knew from the rude Chinese maps of the Forbidden City which are everywhere sold; if this boundary were passed the Imperial Palaces, with all their treasures, would be reached. I thought, with my mouth watering a little, although I had no actual desire for riches, of General Montauban, created Comte de Palikao, because in the 1860 expedition, when the famous Summer Palace was so ruthlessly sacked, he had taken all the most splendid black pearls he could find and had carried them back to the Empress Eugenie as a little offering. If one could only get past this boundary and the protocol had not stepped in!

Moved a little by such thoughts, I advanced on the central gate, and peered through a chink near which an infantryman was standing alert, rifle in hand. There were the marble courtyards, the beautiful yellow decorated roofs. I could see them clearly, and then ... a rifle from the other side was discharged almost in my ear; a bullet hissed past a few inches from my head, too; and I had a flitting vision of a Chinese soldier in the sky-blue tunic of the Palace Guards darting back on the other side. There must still be numbers of soldiery waiting sullenly beyond for the expected advance; they would only fall back in rapid flight as our men rushed in, just as they had been doing from the beginning. I discharged my own revolver rather aimlessly through the chink in the hope that something would happen, but all became quiet again. Everything was finished here.

But although the advance down this grand approach to the inner halls and Palaces had been stayed, nothing had been said about piercing through the great outer enclosures to the right and left; and, catching my pony, I rode round a corner where a broad avenue led to another set of entrances. Perhaps here would be something. All along I found a sprinkling of American infantrymen, in their sweaty and dust-covered khaki suits, lying down and fanning themselves with anything that came handy, and sending rude jests at one another. Old-fashioned Chinese jingals, gaudy Banners, and even Manchu long-bows, were scattered on the ground in enormous confusion. The Palace Guards belonging to the old Manchu levies had evidently been surprised here by the advance of the main body of American troops through the Dynastic Gate, and had fled panic-stricken, abandoning their antiquated arms and accoutrements as they ran. The soldiery who had been doing all the fighting and firing must have been the more modern field forces engaged in the last attacks on the Legations, or those driven in on Peking by the rout on the Tientsin road. Still, there was nothing worth seeing, and the miniature Tartar towers crowning the angles of the great pink walls looked down in contempt, as if conscious that no enemy could hurt them. I must push along.

I trotted quickly, exchanging chaff with the Americans, who called out to me with curious oaths that they had had no breakfast, and wanted to know why in h—— this fun was being stopped, and that they were being left there. Alas! I could give them no news. I only swore back in the same playful way. At the end of an immense wall I came on the last of this soldiery—a corporal's guard, squatting round a small wicket-gate and looking very tired. They told me that they were still being shot at from somewhere on the inside; and even as I paused and looked a curious pot-pourri of missiles grounded angrily against the gate-top. There were modern bullets, old iron shot, and two arrows—a strange assortment. Somehow those quivering arrows, shot from over the immense pink walls, and attempting to vent their old-fashioned wrath on the insolent invaders who had penetrated where never before an enemy's foot had trod, made us all stare and remain amazed. It seemed so curious and impossible—so out of date. Then one of the Americans ran into a guard-house, bringing out with him a huge Manchu bow, which he had secreted there as his plunder. He plucked with difficulty the arrows out of the woodwork in which they had been plunged, and with an immense twanging of catgut sent them high into the air, until they were suddenly lost to our sight in the far beyond. An answer was not long in coming. In less than half a minute a crackle of firearms broke harshly on the air, and a fresh covey of bullets whistled high overhead. The enemy was plainly still on the alert inside the last enclosures, where no one might penetrate. What a pity it had been stopped....

I rode off, bearing away some flags and swords, and, making due east, as last reached some broad avenues near the Eastern Gates of this Forbidden City.... Fresh masses of moving men now appeared. The main body of French infantry I had seen a couple of hours before were being marched in here, while smaller bodies were tramping off to the north, and sappers were blowing down walls to clear their way. As I ambled along, seeking a way out, a couple of officers galloped up to me, and, touching their helmets, begged me in the name of goodness to tell them what was being done. What were the general orders, they wanted to know. I explained to them that nobody knew anything; that as far as I could see, the Americans had stopped attacking for good; that the Indian troops were already marching out into the Chinese city; and that nothing more was to be done, as the other columns had been completely lost touch with.

"Toujours cette confusion, toujours pas d'ordres," the French officers angrily commented, and in a few words they told me rapidly how from the very start at Tientsin it had been like this, each column racing against the others, while they openly pretended to co-operate; with everyone jealous and discontented. Where were the Russians, the Italians, and the Germans? I answered that I had not the slightest idea, and that nobody knew, or appeared to care at all. I personally was going on; I had had enough of it....

To my surprise, as I turned to go, I found that the men of the Infanterie Coloniale, in their dirty-blue suits, had pushed up as close as possible to overhear what was being said, and now surrounded us. One private indeed boldly asked the officers whether they were going to be able to enter the Palace at once; and when he got an angry negative, he and his comrades took to such cursing and swearing, that it seemed incredible that this was a disciplined army. The men wanted to know why they had been dragged forward like animals in this burning heat and stifling dust, day after day, until they could walk no longer, if they were to have no reward—if there was to be nothing to take in this cursed country. In the hot air the sullen complaints of these sweating men rang out brutally. They wanted to loot; to break through all locked doors and work their wills on everything. Otherwise, why had they been brought? These men knew the history of 1860.

I turned in disgust, and went slowly back the way I had come, only to find all unchanged.... Everything had obviously been stopped by explicit orders; there was no doubt about that now; diplomacy, afraid to allow any one to enter the inner Palaces for fear of what would follow, and how much one Power might triumph over another, had called an absolute halt. But no one was taking any chances, or placing too much confidence in the assurances of the dear Allies. That was plain! For, even as I had almost finished trotting up to the Dynastic Gate, I came on a large body of Italian sailors, who had evidently just entered Peking, and who, marching with the quick step of the Bersaglieri, were being led by C——, the lank Secretary of Legation, right up to the last line of gates. They were in an enormous hurry, and looked about them with eager eyes. C—— and some others called out to me as I passed, and wanted to know whether it was true that the Americans and the French had already got in, and had sacked half the place, and whether fire had been set to the buildings. I answered with no compunction that it appeared to be so, and that the Russians and the Japanese had burst in also through the north, and had actually fired on the others coming from the south, thinking they were Manchu soldiery.... I told them that they were too late; that every point of importance had already been seized. That set them moving faster than ever. It was truly comical and ridiculous. Beyond this there were more troops of other nationalities that had just arrived, and were now looking about them in bewilderment. No wonder. With no orders and no maps, and surrounded by these immense ruins, and still more immense squares, they could not understand it at all. What confusion!

As I paused, debating what I should do, once again something else speedily attracted my attention. This time big groups of American soldiery, whom I had not observed before, were gathering like swarms of flies at the door of one of the Chinese guard-houses, which line the enclosing walls of the Palace. They were evidently much excited by some discovery. Wishing to learn what it was, I dismounted and pushed in. Grovelling on the ground lay an elderly Chinese, whose peculiar aspect and general demeanour made it clear what he was. He was a Palace eunuch, left here by some strange luck. The man was in a paroxysm of fear, and, pointing into the guard-house behind him, he was beseeching the soldiery with words and gestures not to treat him as those inside had been handled. Through the open door I could see a confused mass of dead bodies—men who had been bayonetted to death in the early morning—and from a rafter hung a miserable wretch, who had destroyed himself in his agony to escape the terror of cold steel. As the details became clear, the scene was hideous. Never, indeed, shall I forget that horrid little vignette of war—those dozens upon dozens of curious soldier faces framed in slouch hats only half understanding; the imploring eunuch on the ground, the huddled mass of slaughtered men swimming in their blood in the shadow behind; that thick smell of murder and sudden death rising and stinking in the hot air; and the last cruel note of that Chinese figure, with a shriek of agony and fear petrified on the features, swinging in long, loose clothes from the rafter above. In the bright sunlight and the sudden silence which had come over everything, there was a peculiar menace in all this which chilled one....

Perhaps the eunuch had divined from my different dress that he would be better understood by me than by these rough crowds of rank and file who crushed him in; for, as I gazed, he had thrown himself at my feet, with muttered words and a constant begging and imploring. I noticed then that the unfortunate man could not walk, could only drag himself like a beaten dog. The reason soon transpired: both his legs had been broken by some mad jump which he must have essayed in his agony to escape. I quieted the man's fears as best I could, and, tearing a sheet from a note-book, wrote a description of him, so that a field hospital would dress him. Then, anxious to learn something concrete with this vapour of haziness and confusion blinding us all, I began questioning him quickly about the Palace, the numbers of soldiery within, the strength of the inner enclosures, and the residences of the Emperor and the Empress Dowager. The man answered me willingly enough, but suddenly said it was all no use, that we were too late. The Emperor, the Empress Dowager, indeed, the whole Court, had disappeared—had fled, was gone....

Gone!

On my life, I could scarcely believe my ears. After all these weeks of confusion and plotting, had the Empress Dowager and her whole Court fled at the very last moment, and, by so doing, escaped all possibility of vengeance? Was it really so? One might have known that this loose-jointed relief expedition could accomplish nothing, would do everything wrong; and still we were acting as if everything was in our hands. Then, suddenly, I fined down my questions, and imperatively asked when the Court had fled; exactly at what hour and in what direction.

At first I could get no reliable answer, but, pushing my questions and assuming a threatening attitude, the shattered eunuch at length collapsed, and whiningly informed me that the flight had taken place at nine o'clock exactly the previous night, and had been carried out by way of the Northern Gates of the city. They had left five hours after the relief had come in! I calculated quickly. That meant twenty hours' start at four miles an hour—for they would travel frantically night and day—eighty miles! It was hopeless; they were safe through the first mountain-passes, and if they had soldiery with them, as was more than certain, these had most certainly been dropped at the formidable barriers which nature has interposed just forty miles beyond Peking. The mountain-passes would protect them. There could be no vengeance exacted; no retribution could overtake the real authors of this debacle. Nothing. It was a strange end....

Disconsolately I turned and rode back into the Legation lines, feeling as if an immense misfortune had come. Here I met finally some Japanese cavalry and some Cossacks. After being actually in Peking twenty-four hours, they had at length formed junction with their Legations. The cavalrymen were trotting up and down, and trying to discover their own people. Neither did they understand it all.

I communicated the news I had learned speedily enough to all people of importance whom I could find, told it to them all frantically; but it aroused no interest, even hardly any comment. Once or twice there was a start of surprise, and then the old attitude of indifference. A species of torpor seems to have come over everyone as a crushing anti-climax after the various climaxes of the terrible weeks. No one cares, excepting that the siege is finished. C——, of the British Legation, who has practically directed its policy for years (indeed, ever since it has been in the present hands), told me that when the British commander had come in, he had simply placed himself at the disposal of the Legation, and had said that his orders were concerned only with the relief. He was not to attempt anything else; to do nothing more, absolutely nothing....

Later in the afternoon, at a Ministerial meeting, convened in haste, the Ministers decided that as they did not know what was going to happen to them or what policy their governments proposed to adopt, in the absence of instructions they could take no steps about anything. Of course, everyone of importance will be transferred elsewhere, and probably be sent to South America, or the Balkan States, or possibly Athens. The confirmation of the news that the Empress Dowager and the Court had fled concerned them less than the dread possibilities which the field telegraphs bring. The wires have already been stretched into Peking, and messages would have to come through soon....

That evening, as dusk fell, and I was idly watching some English sappers blowing an entrance from the canal street through the pink Palace walls, so that a private right of way into this precious area could be had right where the twin-cannon were fired at us for so many weeks, a sound of a rude French song being chanted made me turn round. I saw then that it was a soldier of the Infanterie Coloniale in his faded blue suit of Nankeen, staggering along with his rifle slung across his back and a big gunny-sack on his shoulder. He approached, singing lustily in a drunken sort of way, and reeling more and more, until, as he tried to step over the ruins of a brick barricade, he at last tripped and fell heavily to the ground. The English sappers watched him curiously for a few moments as he lay moving drunkenly on the ground, unable to rise, but no one offered to help him, or even stepped forward, until one soldier, who had been looking fixedly at something on the ground, said suddenly to his mates in a hoarse whisper, "Silver! Silver!" He spoke in an extraordinary way.

I stepped forward at these words to see. It was true. The sack had been split open by the fall, and on the ground now scattered about lay big half-moons of silver-sycee, as it is called. The sappers took a cautious look around, saw that all was quiet and only myself there; and then the six of them, seized with the same idea, went quietly forward and plundered the fallen Frenchman of his loot as he lay. Each man stuffed as many of those lumps as he could carry into his shirt or tunic. Then they helped the fallen drunkard to his feet, handed him the fraction of his treasure which remained, and pushed him roughly away. The last I noticed of this curious scene was this marauder staggering into the night, and calling faintly at intervals, as he realised his loss, "Sacres voleurs! Sacres voleurs anglais!" Then I made off too. It was the first open looting I had seen. I shall always remember absolutely how curiously it impressed me. It seemed very strange.



II

THE SACK

18th August, 1900.

* * * * *

After these events and the curious entry of our relieving troops, nothing came as a surprise to me. I can still remember as if it had only occurred ten seconds ago how, after witnessing those English sappers calmly strip that drunken French marauder of his gains, I came back into the broken Legation Street to find that a whole company of savage-looking Indian troops—Baluchis they were—had found their way in the dark into a compound filled with women-converts who had gone through the siege with us, and that these black soldiery were engaged, amidst cries and protests, in plucking from their victims' very heads any small silver hair-pins and ornaments which the women possessed. Trying to shield them as best she could was a lady missionary. She wielded at intervals a thick stick, and tried to beat the marauders away. But these rough Indian soldiers, immense fellows, with great heads of hair which escaped beneath their turbans, merely laughed, and carelessly warding off this rain of impotent blows, went calmly on with their trifling plundering. Some also tried to caress the women and drag them away.... Then the lady missionary began to weep in a quiet and hopeless way, because she was really courageous and only entirely over-strung. At this a curious spasm of rage suddenly seized me, and taking out my revolver, I pushed it into one fellow's face, and told him in plain English, which he did not understand, that if he did not disgorge I would blow out his brains on the spot. I remember I pushed my short barrel right into his face, and held it there grimly, with my finger on the trigger. That at least he understood. There was a moment of suspense, during which I had ample time to realise that I would be bayonetted and shot to pieces by the others if I carried out my threat. It was ugly; I did not like it. At the last moment, fortunately, my fellow relented, and throwing sullenly what he had taken to the ground, he shouldered his rifle and left the place. The others followed with mutterings and grumbles, and the women being now safe, began barricading the entrance of their house against other marauders. They were green-white with fear. They feared these Indian troops....

That same night, very late, a transport corps, composed of Japanese coolies, in figured blue coats, belonging to some British regiment, came in hauling a multitude of little carts; and within a few minutes these men were offering for sale hundreds of rolls of splendid silks, which they had gathered on their way through the city. You could get them for nothing. Some one who had some gold in his pocket got an enormous mass for a hundred francs. The next day he was offered ten times the amount he had paid. In the dark he had purchased priceless fabrics from the Hangchow looms, which fetch anything in Europe. Great quantities of things were offered for sale after that as quickly as they could be dragged from haversacks and knapsacks. Everybody had things for sale. We heard then that everything had been looted by the troops from the sea right up to Peking; that all the men had got badly out of hand in the Tientsin native city, which had been picked as clean as a bone; and that hundreds of terrible outrages had come to light. Every village on the line of march from Tientsin had been treated in the same way. Perhaps it was because there had been so little fighting that there had been so much looting.

The very next morning a decision was arrived at to send away all non-combatants in the Legation lines as quickly as possible from such scenes—to let them breathe an air uncontaminated by such ruin and devastation and rotting corpses—to escape from this cursed bondage of brick lines. There would be a caravan formed down to Tungchow, which is fifteen miles away, and then river transport. To provide conveyances for these fifteen miles of road, people would have to sally forth and help themselves; near the Legations there was absolutely nothing left. We must hustle for ourselves.... The same men who have done all the work would have to do this.

I shall never forget the renewed sense of freedom when I went out the next morning with my men and some others I picked up, this time boldly striking into the rich quarter in the eastern suburbs of the Tartar city and leaving the garrisoned area far behind. It was something to ride out without having to take cover at every turning.... The first part of our route was the same as that of my scouting expedition made so few days before. But this time we went forward so quickly to the main streets beyond the white ruins of the Austrian Legation that it seemed incredible that we should have wasted so much time covering the ground before. That shows what danger means. I alone was mounted, riding the old pony I had commandeered the day before; my men were on foot and ran pantingly alongside. We were so keen!

For half a mile or so we met occasional detachments of European troops, an odd enough pot-pourri of armed men such as few people ever witness. They made a curious picture, did this soldiery in the deserted streets, for every detachment was loaded with pickings from Chinese houses, and some German mounted infantry, in addition to the great bundles strapped to their saddles, were driving in front of them a mixed herd of cattle, sheep and extra ponies which they had collected on the way. The men were in excellent humour, and jested and cursed as they hastened along, and in a thick cloud of dust raised by all these hoofs they finally disappeared round a corner. It was only when they were gone that I realised how silent and deserted the streets had become. Not a soul afoot, not a door ajar, not a dog—nothing. It might have been a city of the dead. After all the roar of rifle and cannon which had dulled the hearing of one's ears for so many days there was something awesome, unearthly and disconcerting in this terrified silence. What had happened to all the inhabitants?

I had ridden forward slowly for a quarter of an hour or so, glancing keenly at the barred entrances which frowned on the great street, when suddenly I missed my men. My pony had carried me along the raised highway—the riding and driving road, which is separated from the sidewalks by huge open drains. My men had been across these drains, keeping close to the houses so that they could soon discover some sign of life. Then they had disappeared. That is all I could remember.

I rode back, rather alarmed and shouting lustily. My voice raised echoes in the deserted thoroughfare, which brought vague flickers of faces to unexpected chinks and cracks in the doors, telling me that this desert of a city was really inhabited by a race made panic-striken prisoners in their own houses by the sudden entry of avenging European troops. There were really hosts of people watching and listening in fear, and ready to flee over back walls as soon as any danger became evident. That explained to me a great deal. I began to understand. Then suddenly, as I looked, there were several rifle shots, a scuffle and some shouting, and as I galloped back in a sweat of apprehension I saw one of my men emerge from the huge porte-cochere of a native inn mounted on a black mule. My men were coolly at work. They were providing themselves with a necessary convenience for moving about freely over the immense distances. In the courtyard of the inn two dead men lay, one with his head half blown off, the second with a gaping wound in his chest. My remaining servants were harnessing mules to carts, and each, in addition, had a pony, ready saddled to receive him, tied to an iron ring in the wall. I angrily questioned them about the shots, and pointed to the ghastly remains on the ground; but they, nothing abashed, as angrily answered me, saying that the men had resisted and had to be killed. Then, as I was not satisfied, and continued muttering at them and fiercely threatening punishment, one of them went to the door of a gate-house, and flinging it back, bade me look in. That was a sight! It was full of great masses of arms and all sorts of soldiers' and Boxers' clothing; and tied up in bundles of blue cloth were stacks of booty, consisting of furs and silks, all made ready to be carried away. This was evidently one of the many district headquarters which the Boxers had established everywhere. My men had known it, because these things become speedily known to natives. They had acted. After all, this was a vengeance which was overtaking everybody. What could I do?...

I said nothing then, and somewhat gloomily watched them proceed. With utmost coolness they finished harnessing the carts; drove them with curses to a point near the gate-house, and silently loaded all those bundles of booty into them, strapping the swords and rifles on in stacks behind. It was evidently to be a clean sweep, with nothing left. Then, when they had made everything ready, one of them disappeared for a short time into a back courtyard, and after some fresh scuffling, reappeared, driving in front of him three men in torn clothing and with dishevelled hair, who had been hiding all the while, and were trembling like aspen leaves now that they had been caught. My men, without undue explanations, told them that they had to drive, one to each cart, and that if one tried to escape all would be shot down. With protestations, the captives swore that they would obey; only let them escape with their lives; they were innocent.... Then in a body we sallied forth, this time a fully-equipped and well-mounted body of marauders. It was a fate from which it was impossible to escape—my men had such decision left when every person in authority was already drifting....

Fitted out in this wise, we now rattled along the streets with faster speed, and the clanking cart-wheels, awaking louder and louder echoes which sounded curiously indiscreet in these deserted streets, made heads bob from doorways and windows with greater and greater frequency. Down in the side alleys, now that we were a mile or two away from our lines, people might be even seen standing in frightened groups, as if debating what was going to happen; these melted silently away as soon as we were spied. But finding that they were disregarded, and that no rifles cracked off at them as they half expected, forthwith the groups formed again, and men even came out into the main street and followed us a little way, calling half-heartedly to the drivers to know if there was any news.... The terrible quiet which had spread over the city after the Allies had burst in from two or three quarters seemed indeed inexplicable; such troops as had passed had gone hurriedly westwards towards the Palace. This quarter could scarcely have been touched....

Our little cavalcade was clattering along midst these strange surroundings, when my attention was attracted by the similarity of the occupation which now appeared to be engaging numbers of people on the side streets. The occupation was plainly a doubtful one, since as soon as we were seen everyone fled indoors. All had been standing scraping away at the door-posts with any instruments which came handy; and one could hear this scratching and screeching distinctly in the distance as one approached. It was extraordinary. Determined to solve this new mystery, on an inspiration I suddenly drove my old pony full tilt up an alleyway before the rest of my men had come in view, and, dashing quickly forward, secured one old man before he could escape. Once again I understood: all these people had been scraping off little diamond-shaped pieces of red paper pasted on their door-posts; and on these papers were written a number of characters, which proclaimed the adherence of all the inmates to the tenets of the Boxers. In their few weeks' reign, this Chinese sansculottism had succeeded in imposing its will on all. Everyone was implicated; the whole city had been in their hands; it had been an enormous plot....

Inside the house I had singled out, we found only old women and young boys—the rest had all fled. Spread on the ground were pieces of white cloth on which flags were being rudely fashioned—Japanese, English, French and some others. They were changing their colours, all these people, as fast as they could—that is what they were doing; and farther on, as we came to more remote quarters, we found these protecting insignia already flying boldly from every house. Everybody wished to be friends. But my men exhorted me to proceed quickly and to escape from these districts, which, they alleged, were still full of Boxers and disbanded soldiery; and yielding to their entreaties, we again dashed onwards quicker and quicker. For half an hour and more we had, indeed, lost sight of every friendly face.

The succession of streets we passed was endless. There were nothing but these deserted main thorough-fares, and the scuttling people on the side alleys, and in absolute silence we reached an immense street running due north and south. To my surprise, although everything was now quite quiet, dead Chinese soldiers lay around here in some numbers. There were both infantry and cavalry flung headlong on the ground as they had fled. One big fellow, carrying a banner, had been toppled over, pony and all, as he rode away, and now lay in picturesque confusion, half thrown down the steep slope of the raised driving road, with his tragedy painted clearly as a picture. In the bright sunshine, with all absolutely quiet and peaceful around, it seemed impossible that these men should have met with a violent death such a short while ago amid a roar of sound. It was funny, curious, inexplicable.... For my men, however, there were no such thoughts; they climbed off their ponies, and, whipping out knives or bayonets, they slit the bandoliers and pouches from every dead soldier and threw them into the carts. They had become in this short time good campaigners; you can never have too much ammunition.

The big Shantung recruit, whom I had come across so oddly only three days before, was now once again plainly excited and smelled quarry. I remembered, then, that there was nothing very strange in the decisive actions of all my followers; they were being led by this man and told exactly what to do. He had, after all, been outside all the time, and knew what had been going on and where now to strike hard! Quickly, without speaking a word, he pushed ahead, and arriving at the big gates of another inn, loudly called on some one inside to open. He could not have got any very satisfactory answer, for the next thing I saw was that he had sprung like lightning from his stolen pony, had thrown his rifle to the ground, and was attacking a latticed window with an old bayonet he had been carrying in his hand. With half a dozen furious blows he sent the woodwork into splinters, and, springing up with a lithe, tiger-like jump, he clambered through the gap, big man as he was, with surprising agility. Then there was a dead silence for a few seconds and we waited in suspense. But presently oaths and protests came from far back and drew nearer and nearer, until I knew that the some one who had refused to answer had been duly secured. The gates themselves were finally flung open, and I saw that an oldish man of immense stature had been driven to do this work—a man who, so far from being afraid, was only held in check by a loaded revolver being kept steadily against his back. The Shantung man's face had become devilish with rage, and I could see that he was slowly working himself up into that Chinese frenzy which is such madness and bodes no good to any one. I was at a loss to understand this scene.

Our captured carts were driven in and the gates securely shut; and then, driving his captive still in front of him, my man led us, with a rapidity which showed that he knew every inch of his ground, to a big building at the side. Then it was my turn to understand and to stare. Within the building a big altar had been clumsily made of wooden boards and draped with blood-red cloth; and lining the wall behind it was a row of hideously-painted wooden Buddhas. There were sticks of incense, too, with inscriptions written in the same manner as those we had seen being scraped so feverishly from the door-posts a few minutes ago. Red sashes and rusty swords lay on the ground also. Here there could be absolutely no mistake; it was a headquarters of that evil cult which had brought such ruin and destruction in its train. The Boxers had been in full force here.

The Shantung man, for reasons I could not yet unravel and did not care to learn, had become absolutely livid with rage now, and the others, who were all Catholics, shared his fury. They said that here converts had been tortured to death—killed by being slit into small pieces and then burned. Everybody knew it. With spasmodic gestures they called on the captive to fling to the ground the whole altar, to smash his idols into a thousand pieces, to destroy everything. But the man, resolute even in captivity, sullenly refused. Then, with a movement of uncontrollable rage, one man seized a long pole, and in a dozen blows had broken everything to atoms. Idols, red cloth, incense sticks, bowls of sacrificial rice and swords lay in a shapeless heap. And with ugly kicks my men ground the ruin into yet smaller pieces. Somehow it made me wince. It was a brutal sight; to treat gods, even if they be false, in this wise....

As I looked and wondered, scarcely daring to interfere, the Shantung man had pushed his face, after the native manner, close into that of his enemy and was muttering taunts at him, which were hissed like the fury of a snake in anger. This could not last—my man was carrying it too far. It was so. With a cry his victim suddenly closed on him, seized him insanely by the throat and hair, tried to tear him to the ground. I remember I had just a vision of those brown wrestling bodies half-bared by the fury of their clutches, and I could hear the quickly drawn pants which came at a supreme moment, when there was a sharp report, which sounded a little muffled, a piece of plaster flew out of the wall behind the two, and some biting smoke bit one's nostrils. Before I realised what had been done, the giant Boxer was staggering back; then he tottered and fell on his knees, talking strangely to himself, with his voice sliding up and down as if it now refused control. Some blood welled up to his lips and trickled out; he shook a bit, and then he crashed finally down. There he lay among the ruins of his faith—dead, stone-dead, killed outright. The Shantung man stood over him with a smoking revolver in his hand. I remembered then that he had never taken his hand from the weapon. He had been waiting for this—it was an old score, properly paid....

I had had enough, however, of this mode of settling up under cover of my protection, and angrily I intimated that if there was any more shooting I should draw too, and pistol every man. I was proceeding to add to these remarks, and was even becoming eloquent as my righteous feelings welled up, when a thunder of blows suddenly resounded on the outer gates, and made me realise with a start that this was no place for abstract morality. Strayed so far from safety, we had taken our lives into our own hands; at any moment we might have to fight once more desperately against superior numbers. Perhaps in the end we would totter over in the same way as the unfortunate who had strayed across our path.... Indeed, it was no time for morality....

The thunder on the gates continued, and then with a crash they came open suddenly, and a party of French soldiers, with fixed bayonets and their uniforms in great disorder, rushed in on us. They did not see me at first, and, charging down on our captured carters, merely yelled violently to them, "Rendez-vous! Rendez-vous!" Before we could move or disclose ourselves, they had seized some of the carts and were making preparations to drive them off without a second's delay. But then I made up my mind in a flash, too, and becoming desperate, I threw down the gauntlet. The contagion had caught me. Running at them with my drawn revolver, I, too, shouted, "Rendez-vous! Rendez-vous!" and with my men following me, we interposed ourselves between the marauders and their only line of retreat. There was no time for thinking or for explanations; somebody would have to give way or else there would be shooting. In a second, a fresh desperate situation had arisen.

The marauders, astonished at my sudden appearance and the manner in which their razzia had been interrupted, stood debating in loud voices what they should do, and calling me names. Twice they turned as if they would shoot me down; then one of them made up the minds of the others by declaring that their object was not to fight, but to pillage—these few carts did not matter. With lowering faces they speedily withdrew, cursing me with calm insolence as they reached the gates. Outside we saw that they had a number of other carts and mules, all loaded up with huge bundles; and reeling round these captured things were other drunken soldiers, whose disordered clothing and leering faces proclaimed that they had given themselves solely up to the wildest orgies. To-day there would be no quarter....

We waited until the clamour of these men had died away in the distance, and then, with a strange double grin, the big Shantung man turned silently back into an inner courtyard, and pointed me out another building. I did not understand, for the very stables were empty and deserted here, as if everything had been already looted or carried away into safety. There appeared to be not a cart, not a piece of harness, not a stick of furniture, nothing left at all. The big Shantung man still grinned, however, and quickly made for the building he had pointed out. The door was open, as if there was nothing to conceal, and only enormous bins made of bamboo matting half blocked the entrance. But with a few rough efforts my men sent these soon flying; then there was a mighty stamping and neighing of alarm, and as I looked in I laughed from sheer surprise. The house was full of ponies, mules, and even donkeys, which had been driven in and tethered together tightly behind barricades of tables and chairs. Now seeing us, they stood there all eyes and ears, and with prolonged whinnies and gruntings plainly welcomed this diversion. With glee we drove them out and counted them up—ten more animals!

It was with disgust, however, that I remembered that there was neither harness nor carts; but to my surprise, now that the animals had been discovered, my men were running busily around searching every likely hiding-place of the huge straggling courtyards. Like rats, they ran into every corner, turned over everything, pulled up loose floorings, and presently the body of a cart was found hidden in a loft in the most cunning way. But it was only the body of a cart; there were no wheels. And yet the wheels could not be far off. Five more minutes' search had discovered them suspended down a well, under a bucket, which itself contained a mass of harness; and then in every impossible place we discovered the inn property cleverly stored away. In the end, we had all the animals hitched up, and the carts themselves full of fodder. Then, by employing the same tactics as before, just outside drivers were discovered and induced to follow us, and now, with a heavy caravan to protect against all comers, we sallied forth. This time we would have our work cut out.

An hour and more had elapsed since we had been on the open streets, and it being near midday, and everything still quiet, we were surprised to see people of the lower classes moving cautiously about on the main streets, but disappearing quickly at the mere sight of other people whose business they could not divine. That, too, was soon explained; for, seeing one rapscallion trying to run away with a sack over his back, we discharged a rifle at him. Straightway the man stopped running, fell on his knees, and whiningly said that he had been permitted to take what he was carrying by honourable foreign soldiery whom he had been allowed to assist. The bundle contained only silks and clothes; with a kick we let him go. Plainly the plot was thickening on all sides, and it was becoming more and more dangerous to be abroad. Seized with a new thought, I stopped the whole caravan, and giving orders to that effect, we soon had every driver we had so summarily impressed securely strapped to his cart with heavy rope. At least, if we had to cut our way back I had secured that our carts could not be stampeded with ease. The drivers would make them go on; it would be easier to run forward than to turn back.

Then, as if we realised the danger of the road, we began driving frantically. We wished to carry the carts into safety. It was not long before we saw in the distance many groups of people clustering round a big building surrounded by high walls. That made me nervous, for the groups formed and dissolved continually, as if they were in doubt, and seeking to gain something which was bent on resisting. But no sooner had they seen this than my men began laughing coarsely, and exclaimed in the vernacular that it was a pawn-shop which the common people were trying to loot. Of course, it was certain that every pawn-shop would go sooner or later; but the sight of an actual attack in progress seemed strange while the populace was still so terror-stricken. To our further surprise, on coming up we found that a number of marauders and stragglers belonging to a variety of European corps had been halted by this sight; and as we drew nearer we found a private of the French Infanterie Coloniale groaning on the ground, with a ghastly wound in his leg. No one was attending to him—they were too busy with their own business, and had we not tied him roughly with some cloth and rope, he might have lain there bleeding to death. We carried the man to the carts and decided we would take him to safety. But as we made preparations to start a warning shout in French bade us not to pass in front of the pawn-shop gates, and, looking up, I found that several other French soldiers, together with some Indians and Annamites, had climbed the roofs of adjacent houses, and with their rifles thrown out in front of them, were attempting to get a shot at people inside. The place was evidently securely held and refused to surrender. Grouped all round, and armed with choppers, bars of iron and long poles, the crowd of native rapscallions waited in a grim silence for the denouement. It was an extraordinary scene. Everything and everyone was so silent. I decided to stop and see it through. Such things never happen twice in a lifetime.

A shot fired from the gate at an incautious man, who darted across the street, showed that the defenders were both vigilant and desperate, and knew what to expect at the hands of the foreign soldiery and the populace once they poured in. Spurred by this sound, the French soldiers on the roofs pushed down cautiously nearer and nearer to their prey; but presently, when I thought that they had almost won their way, a shower of bricks and heavy stones was sent at them by unseen hands with such savageness and skill that another man was placed hors-de-combat, and came down groaning with his head split. His, however, was only a scalp wound, and, discovering that a bandage left him practically none the worse, he took his place with savage curses at a corner just beyond the main gate, fixing his bayonet in grim preparation for the end. Decidedly there would be no quarter when that end came.

But there appeared to be, nevertheless, no means of bringing about the desired climax. The defenders showed their alertness by occasional shots that grated harshly on the still air, and the attack could make no progress. I wondered what would happen. Yet it did not last long, for Providence was at work. Two Cossacks came cantering along the street, bearing some message from a Russian command; and although warning shouts were sent at them, too, as they approached, they paid no heed, but rode carelessly by. As they came abreast of the main gate a sudden volley, which made their mounts swerve so badly that less adept horsemen would have been flung heavily to the ground, greeted them and sent them careering wildly for a few yards. But here were men who understood this kind of warfare. First, it is true, they were a little angry as they pulled up, unslung their carbines and shot home cartridges as if they would act like the rest.... But then, when they saw how things were, they grinned in some delight, and finally dismounting and driving their beasts with shouts off the road, they prepared to join the fray. With renewed interest I watched them go to work.

A little inspection showed the newcomers that the pawn-shop was too difficult to capture by direct assault unless special means were adopted, for such places being constructed with a view to resisting the attacks of robbers even in peaceful times, are nearly always little citadels in themselves. They are the people's banks. For some time the two new arrivals walked stealthily around, with their carbines in their hands, peering here and there, and trying to find a weak spot. Then one man said something to the other, and they disappeared into a neighbouring house, only to emerge almost immediately with some bundles of straw and some wood. To their minds it was evidently the only thing to be done; they were going to set fire! Before there was time to protest, the Cossacks had piled their fuel against an angle of the gate-house, just where they could not be shot at, and with a puff the whole thing was soon ablaze. The scattered groups of native rapscallions on the street, when they saw what had been done, gave a subdued howl of despair, and cried aloud that the whole block of buildings would catch fire, and that everything in them would be destroyed. These confident looters had already imagined that the pawn-shop was theirs to dispose of—after the honourable foreign soldiery had had their fill!

The Cossacks, however, were men of many ideas, and paid not the slightest attention to all this tumult beyond striking two or three of the nearest men. They watched the blaze with cunning little eyes, and as the short flames shot across the gate, driven by the wind, and raised blinding clouds of smoke, one of them said it was all right and that we would be soon inside. On the roofs the French soldiers and their companions lay silently watching in amazement the antics of the two dismounted horsemen, and from the shouts and curses which now came from the pawn-shop compound itself, it was plain that this method of attack would be productive of some result. It was becoming more and more interesting.

My attention was distracted for an instant by seeing one of the Cossacks climb up beside two French soldiers and explain to them gravely, with a violent pantomime of his hands, what they should do in a moment or two. When I turned, it was to find that the second had driven with boot-kicks and some swinging blows from his loaded carbine a number of the street people towards some of those long poles which can always be found stacked on the Peking main streets. My own men, understanding now what was to be done, ran forward, too, to help, and in the twinkling of an eye two long poles had been borne forward and laid in position across the highway. In spite of all modern progress, much the same ways of attack have still to be adopted in siege work. Then, with some further pantomine explaining how it would be impossible to see or hurt them under cover of that smoke, the Cossacks induced the crowd to raise the poles again. This time everybody's blood was up, and, urging one another on with short staccato shouts, dozens of willing men, stripped to the waist, jumped forward, and the timbers were driven with a tremendous impetus against the gates. As they crashed against the wood, and half splintered the stout entrances, a succession of shots rang out from the roofs, and I saw the French marauders sliding rapidly down and fall out of sight into the compound. The defence had been broken down—at least, at this point. It seemed quite over.

It was the work of a moment to hack the gates aside, and through the choking fumes and charred remains the whole infuriated crowd now poured. The little blaze, having met with much brick and stone, was smouldering out, and so long as it was not kindled anew there was no danger of the fire spreading.

Like a rush of muddy waters, the sweating, brown-backed men, now mad with a lust for pillage, tore through the first courtyard. I was born along with them perforce like a piece of flotsam on a raging flood-tide; there was no turning back. Besides, such things do not happen every day....

The Frenchmen and their companions had already disappeared inside, and on the ground lay two of the pawn-shop men, dead or dying, swimming silently in their own blood. Beyond this there was a first hall, empty and devoid of furniture, excepting for immensely long wooden counters; and as I jumped through to the warehouses beyond, I saw dimly in the darkened room those dozens of city rapscallions whom we had unleashed hurl themselves on to the counters and literally tear them to pieces. They knew! Thousands of strings of cash were laid bare by this action, and with the quickness of lightning hundreds of furious hands tore and snatched, while hot voices smote the air in snarls and gasps. They wanted this money—would lose their lives for it. In an instant the pawn-shop hall had been turned into a sulphurous saturnalia horrid to witness. That gave you a grim idea of mob violence. I rushed to escape it....

In the warehouses beyond I found the Frenchmen and the first Cossack, who had directed the carrying of the place by assault, breaking open with rude jests chests and boxes, and flinging to the ground the contents of countless shelves. They cared nothing for the things they found; they were hunting for treasure. With curses as their disappointment deepened, and always hurling more and more shelves and cupboards to the ground, they soon reduced room after room to a confusion such as I have never before witnessed. Rich silks and costly furs, boxes of trinkets, embroideries, women's head-dresses, and hundreds of other things were flung to the ground and trampled under foot into shapeless masses in a few moments, raising a choking dust which cut one's breathing. They wanted only treasure, these men, gold if possible, something which possessed an instant value for them—something whose very touch spelled fortune. Nothing else. In some amazement I watched this frantic scene. From the outer courtyards came the same roar of excitement as the street crowd fought with one another for possession of all that wealth in cash; separated from one another by only a few yards, European marauders and Chinese vagabonds, I reflected, were acting in much the same way. I followed the Frenchmen and their companions into the last great rooms, all dust-laden and filled with boxes without number, which were carefully ticketed and stacked one upon another. Some were prized open with bayonets; some had their pigskin covers beaten through by butt-end blows; but whatever their treatment, there were always the same furs and silks. There was no treasure.

My men had now fought their way through the outer crowd, and rapidly flinging out coat after coat, suggested that sables were at least worth the taking and the keeping. They selected two or three score of these coats of precious skins, beautiful long Chinese robes reaching to the feet, and tumbling them into emptied trunks, we went out as soon as possible. We had had enough. The explanation of why the crowd had not rushed through was in front of us. The remaining Cossack had seated himself, carbine in hand, on the stone ledge at the entrance to the inner courtyards and held everyone in check; just beyond hundreds and hundreds of men stripped to the waist, glistening in their sweat and trembling in their excitement, were waiting for the signal which would let them go. I noticed that now there were old women, too. The whole quarter was coming as fast as it could....

The Cossack grinned when he saw me appear, and looked with a shrug of his shoulders at the sables. To him these were not priceless. Then he explained his unconcerned attitude in a single gesture. He pushed a hand down into his rough riding boots and pulled out one of those Chinese gold bars which look for all the world like the conventional yellow finger-biscuits which one eats with ice-cream. The rascal had elsewhere come across some rich preserve and had his feet loaded with gold—for he pulled out other bars to show me—and he did not care for this petty pilfering. Then the Frenchmen began coming out, with the Annamites and the Indians, each man with a bundle on his back, and the Cossack, esteeming his watch ended, got up and stepped back. Once again, like bloodhounds, the crowd rushed in, an endless stream of men, women, and even children, all summoned by the news that the pawn-shop, which was their natural enemy, had fallen. They roared past us, striking and tearing at one another with insane gestures as if each one feared that he would be too late. Inside the scene must have baffled description, for a clamour soon rose which showed that it was a battle to the death to secure loot at any price. Shrill cries and awful groans rose high above the storm of sound, as the desperadoes of the city, who were mixed with the more innocent common people, struck out with choppers and bar iron and mercilessly felled to the ground all who stood in their way. With conflicting feelings we struggled outside, and as I mounted my pony, a wretched man covered with blood rushed forward, and flinging himself at my feet, cried to me sobbingly to save him. He was the last of the pawn-shop defenders and was bleeding in a dozen places. Him, too, we roughly tied up and saved, and telling him to mount a cart and to lie concealed inside, at last we moved on again. We were gathering odd cargo.

The day was now waning, for the time had flown swiftly with such strange scenes, and people began to slink out from side alleys more and more frequently, as if they had been waiting for this dusk. Several times we passed bands of men armed with swords and knives—Boxers, without a doubt—who calmly watched us approach, as if they were debating whether they should attack us or not. Once, too, a roll of musketry suddenly rang out sharp and clear but a few hundred feet away from the high road, only to be succeeded by an icy silence—more speaking than any sound. We did not dare to stray away to inquire what it might be; the high road was our only safety. Even that was doubtful. Curious isolated encounters were taking place all over the vast city of Peking; it was now everyone for himself, and not even the devil taking care of the hindmost. It was no place for innocents.

At last, by vigorous riding and driving, which caused a great clatter and drew forth many leering faces from darkened doorways, we debouched into that long main street down which I had shot so few days before in such an agony of doubt. Hurrying homeward in the same direction, we now met bands of our siege converts in groups of forty and fifty strong. These men, who had come so near to starving during the siege, were having their own revenge. They had sallied forth with such arms as they could lay their hands on, and had been plundering all day within easy reach of the Legations. They had done what they could, and had gathered every manner of thing in which they stood most in need. Each man had immense bundles tied to his back—it was the revenge for all they had suffered. They had given no quarter either, and before many more hours had gone by they would have made up for those long weeks.... We soon left these groups behind, and with the whole cavalcade now going at a hand-gallop, it dawned on our companions and beasts which we had so curiously gathered during the day that we were nearing our destination.

But here the roadway was absolutely deserted, and in the dusk I realised that had we been farther from home we would almost certainly be ambuscaded by some of the many ruffians Boxerism had unloosed on the city. Here was a sort of neutral belt. At every turning I half expected a volley to greet us; at every door-creak I thought there would be some rush of armed men which would have been impossible for us to meet without losing half the convoy. Yet these fancies were not justified, for to my immense surprise, at a cross-road I saw numbers of women in their curious Manchu head-dress standing at a big gateway, all dressed in their best clothes. As we passed they caught sight of me, and, nothing abashed, began immediately calling to me and waving with their arms. This was extraordinary and unlocked for. At first I thought that they were only courtesans, who had been deprived for so long of all custom that they had been rendered desperate, and were seeking to inveigle me faute de mieux; but remembering that such women are confined to the outer city, I reined in my mount, halted the whole caravan, and went slowly towards them, half fearing, I confess, some ruse. Yet the women greeted me with fresh cries and words. There were a full dozen of them of the best class, and they explained to me that they had been left, absolutely abandoned, two nights before by all the men of the household, who, fearing the worst and hearing that the way out through the north of the city was still open, had seized all the draft and riding animals and ridden rapidly away, saying that the women would be spared by the foreign soldiery, but that probably every man of rank would be killed. No one had molested them so far, because this house lay so close to the foreign troops, but with so many armed men on the streets, and with the pillaging and the murder that was going on, they did not know how long they would be spared. They told me this quickly in gasps. I paused in doubt to know what to answer; it was everyone for himself, and the devil not even looking after the hindmost, as I have just said. But women.... I must propose something.

They saw my hesitation, and women-like, renewed their pleading in chorus. I noticed, also, that two or three of the older ones grouped themselves close together, and, putting down their heads, began rapidly discussing in loud whispers, which showed their trepidation. Then they called a tall, splendidly built woman, and, telling her something in an undertone, pushed her forward towards me. Unabashed, she advanced on me with a firm step, and laying a white-skinned hand—for the Manchus can be very white—on my arm, she begged me to stop here myself—to make this my house for the time being—to do as I pleased with all of them.... After all those weeks of privation, that constant rifle-fire, that stench of earth-soiled men, this woman so close seemed strange.... I answered, in greater confusion, that I could not yet say whether it was possible for me to stay so far away; that there might be trouble; that I would see and let them know before the night was far advanced....