FINDING OUT ABOUT LIFE

INSIDE THE PEKING LEGATIONS

To set the record for those who consider such exactitude important,

although General Chaffee's force actually entered the city before any other, it was

British troops that arrived first inside the Legation Quarter. The regimental colours

of the 14th Infantry were the first to fly over Peking and the men of the 14th were the

first to set foot inside the city at a little after 2 p.m, but the enemy resistance that we

encountered had held up our advance for some one and a half hours and,

meanwhile, the British had entered the city at the Zua-anmen gate. Without sight of

a single enemy soldier, they had followed a road to a position opposite the legations,

where they set up a temporary headquarters near the Temple of Heaven. Then,

shortly before 3 o'clock that afternoon Captain Pell, A.D.C to General Gaselee;

Lieutenant Keys, a Sikh officer, and four Sikh privates walked into the Legation

gardens.

Some thirty minutes later, the 14th Infantry entered the inner city through the

Water gate, at the same time as Captain Reilly's battery was passing through the

Chien-men gate, which had been opened for them by the American and Russian

marine guards of the besieged Legations. First or second into the city meant nothing,

though, as we were all greeted by a cheering throng of the besieged foreigners, all

decked out in their finery; all wishing to hug us and shake our hands.

All afternoon the allied forces came pouring into the Legation compound in

an endless succession until the lawn was fairly covered with them. Everybody was

dancing for joy, and some could scarcely restrain their tears. Amid this cheering and

jubilation, the confusion was as great as the euphoria and every new troop was

greeted as the bringer of victory and deliverance. As a sharp reminder, however,

that our task was far from over, some Chinese soldiers still in hiding around the

walls of the Legation Quarter kept up an intermittent threat by firing into the

crowds. A Belgian women received a flesh wound to the side of her face; and a Bengal

Lancer, whose troop had been sent out in defence of the barricades was sadly killed

when, looking through a loophole, he was instantly struck by a bullet to his face.

At about 4.30 p.m General Gasalee and General Chaffee met with Minister

Conger and Sir Claude McDonald, the senior US and British Legation diplomats

and, to ensure that the joyous mood of that evening did not get out of hand, the

British decided to maintain their headquarters at the Temple of Heaven and General

Chaffee agreed to withdraw our troops from the Legation quarters and camp just

outside the wall for the night. As the only correspondent with the 14th Infantry,

though, I considered that my place at that time was with the foreigners inside the

Legations so, with Chaffee's permission, I re-entered the quarters and soon found

myself in the company of one Arthur Smith, an American missionary, who summed

up the military situation for me… "It's a miracle that we have survived at all" he

said, "but we can't understand why the Chinese did not extinguish our defences … if

they had been ready to make a sacrifice of just a few hundred lives, we would all be

dead now".

Missionary Smith was an avuncular sort of fellow; one who would hold the

affection and respect of his fellows in any circle of which he was a part. He had

much to tell me and for this report, it is worth repeating his own words …

"Many of the Chinese Christians who have been sheltering here and Chinese soldiers

have been killed, but we have not been able to record how their numbers. What we do

know is that the foreign guards who have been defending the Legations have suffered

heavy casualties. Up to yesterday's count, of the 409 guards, 55 are dead and 135

wounded. It seems odd but our records show that the small Japanese force of one

officer and 24 sailors commanded by Colonel Shiba suffered greater than 100 percent

casualties. This happened because many of the Japanese troops, including Colonel

Shiba, were wounded, entered into the casualty lists, and then returned to the line of

battle only to be wounded once more and again entered in the casualty lists. In

addition, 13 civilians have been killed and 24 wounded, mostly men who took part in

the defence.

Almost everybody helped with some part of the defence effort and we had

committees of all kinds. It was an American idea, and there were about forty

altogether, one a cobbling committee to mend our shoes, another a washing

committee to wash out clothes, a third a milling committee to grind the wheat, and so

forth. The idea was a good one, and some of the committees did valuable work. But

head and shoulders above all others as the most important man in our small

community was an American missionary, Frank Gamewell who was the head of our

fortifications committee. Where he got his ideas about fort and barricade building and

construction I don't know; probably he doesn't know himself, but he had a genius for

the work. No Royal Engineer could have done it better, and he did everything

without a fuss of any kind. "Gamewell," we said, "we want a barricade, here, or a

trench there, or a gun platform somewhere else". Not another word was necessary.

Mr. Gamewell got together his team, known as the 'Fighting Parsons', and his

coolies, you know we had a lot of native Christians in the compound, who did the

labouring work for us, and in less time than most men would have taken talking

about how the job was to be done the thing was complete. He raised no difficulties,

asked no one's opinion, took up nobody's time with questions, simply got the work

done, and surprised us all by the ingenuity and excellence of it. Mr. Gamewell and

Colonel Shiba were our two best men without whom it does not seem possible we

could have won through. I tell you now, after knowing these two men, I am

beginning to lose my blind, unquestioning faith in Englishmen as the solitary salt of

the earth."

Smith and I talked for some hours, until I had to leave and make my way back to my

quarters, or face the post-curfew challenge of the US sentries. As I walked back

through the gathering dark, I thought about the times I had spent with many brave,

outstanding men from foreign lands; and I could not help but agree with him ...

General Albert Gasalee

General Adna Chaffee

Sir Claude McDonald

Minister Edwin Conger

Arthur Henderson Smith

Colonel Shiba Goro

Frank Gamewell and his Fighting Parsons

CONSOLIDATING OUR POSITION

We broke our camp at 5 a.m on the morning of 15th August and moved in

column back towards the Water Gate entrance to the inner city. Upon entering the

Legations, the cheering and glad-handing of the previous day was continued, but

the appearance of the people and their surroundings, buildings, streets and homes,

presented us with clear evidence of how they must have suffered during the siege.

Barricades of every sort of material were built everywhere, topped with sandbags

made from every conceivable sort of cloth, from sheets and pillowcases to dress

materials and brocaded curtains. Most of the Legations had been reduced to piles of

rubble, and those of the British, Russian, and American residents, though standing

and occupied, were riddled with bullet holes from small arms fire and, often, with

larger gaping holes made by shell.

The children presented a pitiable sight, white and wan for lack of proper food,

but the adults, as a rule, seemed cheerful and little the worse for their trying

experience, except from anxiety and constant worry. The Legations had been

ransacked for supplies but food and water were seriously inadequate, with most

living on short rations, a portion of which consisted of a few mouthfuls of horse or

mule meat daily. The Chinese Christians had fared worse than most, being fed upon

whatever scraps could be secured, and often reduced to killing dogs and rats for

meat. American missionaries had taken over the management of sanitation and

health and although medical supplies were also scarce, the doctors and nurses had

managed to operate a field hospital that had saved many lives.

The Legation guards were not well armed and only the American marines

had sufficient ammunition. The defenders had just three machine guns and a small

cannon but, fortunately, an old cannon barrel and ammunition had been found and

from it a serviceable artillery piece with the original Italian carriage and a British

barrel firing Russian shells had somehow been forged. This was manned by marines

of the American guard, who had christened their fearsome weapon "Betsy" - to

everybody else, though, it was known as the "International".

General Chaffee had been informed by Minister Conger that part of the

Imperial City directly in front of the Chien-men gate had been used by the Chinese

as a base to fire on the Legations. Our scouts had reported that this enemy force was

still in position and Chaffee had decided to force the Chinese troops out. It took

some time to prepare our attack but by 7 a.m four guns of Captain Reilly's 5th

Artillery battery had been hauled to the top of the wall above Chien-men gate and

proceeded to sweep the walls to the west, all the way to the next gate, from where

there was some slight opposition supported by poor artillery. At about 8 o'clock, the

Chinese opened fire on us at Chien-men gate, whereupon General Chaffee deployed

a direct attack on the first Imperial City gate, and in a short while Reilly's second-in-

command, Lieutenant Charles P. Summerall had opened the door of this gate. The

14th Infantry and the Marines entered, and were immediately met with severe fire

from the next gate, about 600 yards distant.

Our fire was directed upon this second gate and in less than half an hour the

Chinese guns was silenced. Colonel Daggett led forward the 14th to the base of the

gate and directed Lieutenant Summerall to open this gate with artillery, which he

did. This assault pattern was then repeated for a total of four gates, the Chinese

troops being driven from each one in succession. The fourth gate presented no direct

threat because it was at the rear of the Imperial City, near an area known as the

Palace Grounds, which was only lightly defended by the "Imperial Guards", and it

was here that General Chaffee called a halt to the action.

And then, the news that brought grief to all of us. Captain Henry Reilly had

been killed. At just a few minutes before 9 o'clock, the courageous commander of the

Artillery battery that had supported us and taken a decisive stance in every battle

that we had fought from Tientsin to Peking, had taken a bullet in the mouth and

died almost instantly while standing next to General Chaffee observing the effect of

a shot from one of his guns. With his deep sadness quelled by an innate sense of

duty and responsibility, Lieutenant Summerall immediately assumed the de facto

role of acting battery commander.

We were now in a position to take control of the Imperial City but at a

conference in the afternoon a majority of the Legation Ministers and the alliance

Commanders decided that only the grounds should be occupied. I am sure that

General Chaffee was not in agreement with this, but he nevertheless deployed his

forces accordingly, with the 14th Infantry and some Marines on three sides of the

grounds in cover positions, to provide a full cross-fire defence; the remaining Marine

battalion on the fourth side, protecting the ground back to the Legation Quarters; the

Artillery battery on the wall above the Chien-men gate; and the 9th Infantry at the

gate where our earlier attack had ceased. Thus, by mid-afternoon, we were

embedded and had set up established defence positions against attack from all sides.

There was a general acknowledgement that the battle had probably not yet reached

its conclusion, but it was unlikely that there would be any more fighting today.

Having been in similar positions of conflict on a number of other occasions, I

knew that this was the time at which Generals needed casualty lists for their

despatches. I also knew that all the men were exhausted, so I approached Colonel

Daggett and volunteered myself for this task. He assigned a trooper to accompany

me and we scurried off at half-crouch around the three miles or so that now made

up our perimeter. We took a couple of desultory sniper shots but, unhurt, we were

back in less than two hours with our list which detailed that, apart from the tragic

death of Captain Reilly, our casualties for 14th and 15th August, culminating in our

attack upon the four Imperial City gates, were:

5th Artillery 1 officer and 2 enlisted men killed; 8 enlisted men wounded

9th Infantry 2 officers and 3 enlisted men killed; 4 enlisted men wounded

14th Infantry 3 officers and 6 enlisted man killed; 4 officers and 22 men wounded

US Marines 1 officer and 9 enlisted men killed; 5 enlisted men wounded

Heroes all - and I am certain that nobody in Peking on that day would disagree ...

Legation Guards manning Barricades

"Betsy" or the "International Cannon" in action

Ammunition stores at Chien-men Gate

THE RELIEF OF PEKING - AFTERMATH

It was with strange feelings that we rose on the morning of 16th August.

In less than twenty-four hours the entire experience of our expedition had changed.

The crowds had been greatly excited at our arrival the day before, but now people

rushed to and fro in urgent, animated groups to discuss the latest news or

probabilities. The whole place was in a turmoil; the trappings of battle were

everywhere; guns, ammunition wagons, baggage trains, carts, clogged all the roads

and passageways. The lawns and gardens were crowded with soldiers and civilians,

every yard of space and every corner packed. The arrival of the relief force should

have restored order and a sense of normality; for the moment, though, it seemed as

if confusion and rumour were the orders of the day.

It was widely believed that the Dowager Empress, Cixi, disguised as a

peasant woman, together with the emperor and several members of the court, had

slipped out of the city in three wooden carts at the moment the allies entered. Her

departure, along with the immediate subjugation suffered at the hands of the

alliance forces, had triggered a total breakdown in morale and disciple amongst the

Chinese, and the disintegration of the Boxer movement in the city.

The Chinese forces were in disarray, fleeing the city in their thousands; and

the fire of numerous clearing skirmishes was a constant rumble as the Japanese

worked their way around the north of the Imperial City, while the Americans and

French were shelling the entrance to the Palace from the south by the Chien-men.

The noise of a significant battle taking place some distance to the north could be

heard all over the city, but nobody in our force knew what this was and it came as an

enormous surprise to all of us when two runners came in and reported that the

Catholic Cathedral at Peitang had been relieved by Japanese troops who had

engaged the Boxers surrounding the Cathedral and, after a barrage lasting less than

an hour, had put them to flight. They had then entered the Cathedral but, without a

common language, they and the besieged were both confused. Shortly afterwards,

however, French troops arrived and marched into the Cathedral to the cheers of the

survivors. As the Cathedral was located inside the grounds of the Imperial City,

about two miles from the Legation Quarter, nobody had any idea that during the

siege, almost 4000 people had sought sanctuary within the stone walls, which had

been defended for more than a month by only 41 French and Italian marines, led by

two French officers.

At a conference of the generals on the afternoon of the 16th, the city area was

divided up and sections allocated to the various forces for security and protection of

the inhabitants. The 14th Infantry and the marines were assigned to the west half of

the city, and to that section lying between the Chien-men gate and the south wall of

the Imperial city. I would have been part of this activity but, now that the main

fighting appeared to be behind us, I had other priorities than to continue my

attachment with the US forces. After clearing my departure with General Chaffee,

and bidding my farewells to the brave troops who had become my friends and

brothers-in-arms, I set off with the notion of reporting on the developing situation

inside the Legation quarter.

Making my way through the outer grounds, past the Italian, French, German

and Japanese compounds, I met not a soul but saw that every wall and roof was

down and the whole place levelled to the ground. There was nothing more than a

vast field of smashed brick and rubble, in which it was difficult even to trace the

ground plan of the houses. I passed a well that had been filled in; a dead body

rotting in the drain. Nothing remained standing and not a tree, not a stick, not a

shrub had survived; I was walking in a bare and empty wilderness.

As I neared the larger and better defended American, Russian and British

legations, however, I came across an occasional house or shop that was untouched,

from where a few people came out professing friendliness and welcoming me like a

lost brother, offering me tea and such-like tokens of goodwill. It was not difficult to

see through their thinly veiled hypocrisy, or to guess why they had suffered no

harm. I declined their offers but I did go into a large pawn-shop, where I surmised

that a number of foreigners would have deposited their treasures for safe keeping. If,

indeed, they had done so, their belongings were now lost. The shop was deserted,

empty, looted. Nothing remained except heaps of paper, account books, pawn

tickets, and other rubbish.

More and more people were around as I walked up South Bridge road, the

track that separates the US Legation from the Russian and British compounds.

Dozens of covered wagons, with horses straining at their load, were hurriedly

leaving the US Legation; and in the Russian grounds there was much bartering and

bickering over the price of looted goods. In full and open view of anybody who

cared to look, two peaceable, well-dressed men were surrounded by a dozen or so

Russian soldiers, suffering the crude but simple act of being made to undo their

girdles and hold up their tunics whilst the soldiers felt all around their waists for

watches or money; a blatant example of highway robbery in its most disgusting

form.

I had seen all of this before, of course, in Tientsin where, just a few short

weeks before, the military occupation had turned into an orgy of looting and

violence. Little did I realise, though, that the relief of Peking was about to become a

bloodbath of human atrocity in which soldiers, civilians, diplomats, missionaries,

and journalists all participated ...

Plan of the Legation Quarter

South Bridge Street in the Legation Quarter

THE RELIEF OF PEKING - ATROCITIES

It was a misery to walk the city and see its desolation. Peking had twice been looted

before, by the Boxers, then by the Imperial soldiers, and now it was being ravaged

again by the allies. At each fresh step in this depressing history, the inhabitants had

fled to places where they hoped to find greater peace and safety. Now the place was

a ruin, the restoration of which, if even possible, could only be accomplished over a

long period of time. Peking was no great natural hub of trade, able to recover from

such a disaster through the economic influence of renewed commercial life; it was

simply the fortified home of the Imperial Court, which had attracted the crowds that

always migrate to such places to supply the wants and luxuries of the wealthy. The

moment the Court left, Peking had sunk to the level of a dingy, second-rate market

town.

Lost in this sorry reverie, I hardly noticed General Gasalee, General Chaffee

and their staff officers walking across the compound towards the Russian Legation.

Gasalee ignored me but General Chaffee invited me to join them. I fell into line

alongside the familiar figure of Lieutenant. John Furlong, Chaffee's aide-de-camp,

who informed me that a full conference of all the military Commanders and foreign

Ministers had been called to discuss what action should be taken in respect of the

Imperial City. Shortly before 9.30 a.m. we arrived at the Russian Army Headquarters

where the conference was to be held. Following my earlier failed bid to make contact

with Morrison, I was pleased to see a number of familiar faces. George Lynch, war

correspondent for the London Daily Express was there, as was Emile Dillon, Russian

correspondent for the Daily Telegraph, together with my old friend, Bennet

Burleigh, who had been billeted with the British forces.

There was but one item on the agenda and, after some brief, token discussion,

the representatives of the foreign powers came to their decision. At 10.15 a.m on the

morning of 17th August, they agreed and recommended that ...

"As the advance of the foreign troops into the Imperial and Forbidden Cities has been

obstinately resisted by the Chinese troops, the foreign armies should continue to fight

until the Chinese armed resistance within all the Cities of Peking and the

surrounding country is crushed ... because in the crushing of that armed resistance

lies the best and only hope of the restoration of peace".

This proved to be a fateful time, date and proclamation, for not only did it initiate

the final attack by the allied forces on the Imperial city itself, it was as though the

firm military stance of the allied forces had been perceived by the civilian residents

as a signal for the abandonment of the very rules and mores of society itself. Within

hours, it seemed as though the closeness of community that had been succour to the

besieged just days earlier, had all but disappeared and been replaced by a raw, almost

animalistic survival instinct. Alongside the hundreds already engaged in their brazen

looting of property and person, many of the foreigners packing up and preparing to

leave the Legations with their possessions, now began gathering in small parties,

arming themselves and rampaging out in search of anything valuable that they could

find. Some were bent on robbery and some on revenge, while others sought

satisfaction of even baser impulses. Thus, over the next two or three days, a cascade of

vile atrocity erupted; on all sides fighting, burning, torture, rape and killing.

For some vestige of protection, the four of us stayed together and did what we

could to avoid drawing attention to ourselves. The main battles were now over and

the Boxer forces were in disarray, retreating in all directions. Peking would soon

become a post-war city and we had a responsibility to find out what we could within

this period of transition. As we skulked around the grounds, though, grim and for

the most part, silent, we were witness to an unfolding kaleidoscope of human

behaviour more nightmarish and more brutal than any of us could have believed

possible. We saw prisoners chained and fettered so heavily that many collapsed and

died under a sword, a bayonet or a beating when they could not rise; we saw row

upon row of kneeling captives collapse crumpled into ditches filled with the still-

writhing bodies of their brothers as the bullets from the firing squads smashed their

skulls; we saw hordes of terrified men, accused and instantly guilty on the merest

suspicion of being Boxers, beheaded at the many thickly blooded killing grounds

scattered throughout the city. The Japanese are said to be the most prolific exponents

of these grisly forms of execution, but so many now followed their lead that General

Chaffee wrote "It is safe to say that where one real Boxer has been killed, fifty

harmless coolies or labourers on the farms, including not a few women and children,

have been slain".

This butchery was open and evident to anybody who cared to cast an eye

around the city; and for those preferring to avert their view, accusations, reports and

rumour served as powerful sources of second-hand information. Through his tears, a

young US Marine told us how he could do nothing as he watched French and Russian

troops bayonet women after raping them. American missionaries spoke to us of

Russian soldiers ravishing young girls, of women and children hacked to pieces; and

of men trussed like fowls, with noses and ears cut off and eyes gouged out.

The conduct of the Russian soldiers was generally considered atrocious, the

British and Americans somewhat better, and the French perhaps worse than any.

The Japanese, whose officers had brought along prostitutes to stop their troops from

raping Chinese civilians, despised the Russians and on at least three occasions of

which I was told, executed Russian soldiers caught ravaging local women. It was

also widely believed that a group of US troops had taken upon themselves the role of

vigilante to patrol the city and castrate, then execute, any rapist that they identified.

Nevertheless, many Chinese women chose to commit suicide to avoid rape by allied

forces; and, on one of our darkest days, we began to perhaps appreciate a fraction of

their torment as we witnessed the funeral pyres of the hundreds of mutilated corpses

of women and girls raped and killed by alliance soldiers.

And we saw more, much more; much more that was more inhuman, more

grotesque, more repulsive. As journalists our natural intent was to report all that we

had seen but we knew that this was different. We had all experienced the horrors of

war in different, distant arenas, but not one of us had ever known such an assault on

the senses; not one of us had ever been exposed to such obscene visions of reality. In

our hearts we all knew, but it was Lynch who first voiced our silent understanding

and our shared pledge when he whispered "there are things that we must not write,

and that may not be printed for our readers, which show that this Western

civilisation of ours is merely a veneer over savagery".

That evening, a notice was sent round to collect the names of all those who

wished to travel to Tientsin by the first convoy, which was expected to leave the next

day, Tuesday 21st. I knew that I was done here and that I had to leave this evil place.

Lynch, Dillon and Burleigh understood and, for us, there was no need of a farewell. I

walked slowly back to my quarters and spent the next few hours packing the scraps

that were left of my kit. At midnight, I made my way to the grounds of the Temple

of Heaven, from where the convoy was to depart at 5.30 in the morning. I was there,

ready to leave, at 2 o'clock ...

Men accused of looting and robbery - Peking, August 1900

George Ernest Morrison

London Times Correspondent

William Scott Ament

American Missionary

Herbert Goldsmith Squiers

Secretary at US Legation

Monsignor Pierre Favier

Roman Catholic Bishop

Some scenes that can be displayed - Peking, August 1900

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THE CONVOY - ESCAPE FROM PEKING

We were called at 5 a.m. on 21st August and actually left the compound just before 7

o'clock. There were about eighty people in the convoy, nearly all travelling in Peking

carts, one or two in chairs, whilst a few coolies with sedans followed in case

anybody fell sick by the way. It was a clear day but very hot, and we completed the

journey to Tung Chow in good time considering the number of our carts and the

frailness of many of our number. On the way we passed villages, and scattered

farms, all absolutely deserted. The crops were ripening in the fields, but there was no

one to look after them or to reap, and they were left to rot. At a time in the season

when, in other years, the country would be alive with men, women, and children, all

turned out to bring in the harvest, now not a soul was to be seen.

When we reached Tung Chow the sight that met us was terrible; we had seen

ruin and destruction enough in Peking, but even that was nothing to compare with

Tung Chow. The havoc wrought by this war was appalling; the city had been sacked

by the Russians; the gates destroyed; the main street a mass of debris. In Peking the

Chinese had carried off every stick, every stone which could be used for any

purpose. Here all was left as it had been destroyed. Fires still smouldered on every

side and even to enter some of the temples and houses was dangerous for the

charred timbers could fall at the least movement. In our journey across the city I saw

only two Chinese standing at a place where two roads met, and they simply stood

there, emotionless, staring with unseeing eyes as our convoy passed them by.

We were glad to leave the place behind us and to find ourselves upon the

river bank. Here were a number of grain boats on which had been erected simple

matting shelters. Each boat was to take four or five passengers, their servants, and

four Beloochi tribesmen as guard. I wanted nothing to do with the company of men

at this stage; no conversation of war or killing, and I was pleased that our party,

comprising the Deaconess Ransome and Miss Lambert from the church in the British

Legation, their Chinese charges, a servant, and myself, were allocated a boat to

ourselves. The Deaconess and the other women slept in the mat-shelter, and I slung

a simple hammock outside. We were all on board by three o'clock, expecting to start

at once and accomplish the first stage of our journey before nightfall, but the order

was that we were not to leave until 5 o'clock the next morning.

It was quite chilly at night on the open boat, and it seemed an age before day

broke; and then delay followed delay, so that we did not start until 8 a.m. The boats

were beached high, and some had to be dragged into deeper water, one by one, so

some were a long way ahead before the last had started. The boatmen were for the

most part raw coolies; only a few seemed to be capable of managing the boats, and

there was a general disagreement as to the course. The river was shallow and full of

shoals, so that one boat after another ran aground, and was only pulled off again

with difficulty.

There were no orders to keep the boats together, no one in supreme command

to direct the crowd. The boats with the best boatmen or the lightest draught speedily

forged ahead, and the convoy was soon scattered and divided by great distances;

often we floated along with no other boat in sight, or perhaps only a shadow of one a

mile or so away. Despite my best efforts to keep my mind free from any thoughts of

killing, I could not help thinking how simple it would have been for an enterprising

enemy to have cut that convoy to pieces. The great millet, growing to a height of

twelve or fifteen feet, grew thickly right down to the water's edge, forming a dense

and impenetrable cover, and half a dozen men hidden in the crops could have easily

picked off the guards as the boats passed without our being able to fire a shot in

reply. The enemy would have been invisible. He had only to move a few yards and

lie down, and then a full body of men might have searched for him for hours in vain.

Scattered as we were, our boats could not have supported one another, but happily

we did not have to deal with any such attack. Instead, in an air of peace and calm

that belied the reality, the boats glided gently down stream and, for some precious

hours, I was able to let the quiet motion, the stillness of the atmosphere and the

glistening lights on the water work their soothing effect upon my mind.

The overriding backdrop, though, was that all the way down the river we saw

the same sights that we had seen on the road to Tung Chow. Where there had been

crowds of busy, inquisitive, greedy Chinese, there was now not a living soul. We

saw a few coolies working lazily, but no workmen in the fields, no harvest crops

being gathered; no boats laden with rice or copper for the markets. We seemed to be

the only people abroad in a land of deserted wealth. We saw also the harsh

reminders of war only too frequently; villages in flames, shattered buildings, homes

and communities, dead bodies floating down the river or stranded on the banks.

Thus we journeyed until Tuesday night. We had hoped to reach Tientsin

during the day but had made slow progress and it was 11 p.m. when we reached the

final sweep of the river into the harbour. Instead of anchoring against the bank as we

would normally have done at that hour, the boatmen let her drift and we slid quietly

downstream. There was no moon, but it was a clear starlit night, and we could see

the course of the river perfectly, with all the buildings on either side half-revealed,

then half-hidden in a beautiful soft white light. The stars were reflected in splashes

of gold on the dark water, and the morning star, which shone with a splendid

brilliance, cast a long stream of light on the river. It was difficult to distinguish where

substance ended and shadow began but as we neared the harbour, the star-glow

softened the harsh outlines, hiding the horrors of destruction and the squalor of the

sordid surroundings in a soft mystery.

We drifted towards the harbour's outer swing bridge, which we found closed,

so we had to anchor and wait for the dawn. Slowly the day broke, chill but bright.

Crowds of French soldiers were passing the bridge by the light of great fire- torches

and it seemed as if we might wait for ever. At last they were all over, the bridge was

opened and with some difficulty, for the current was very strong, we passed through

So we arrived at about 7 o'clock in the morning of Wednesday 27th August.

My fellow passengers would soon make their way to the Mission, but for me the

direction was towards the dockside warehouses where I reasoned that I would find

the offices organising the manifests and the movements of the great flotilla of ships

berthed in the waters of Bohai Bay; and, within the hour, this was done. I located the

headquarters of the American Logistics Corps, but a QM Sergeant there told me that

the next ship leaving would be the USS Nashville on 7th September. He directed me

to the British offices and, although I was not over-confident of help from this

quarter, I was pleasantly surprised when, after a somewhat cursory inspection of my

identity papers, a young lieutenant pointed to a supply barge that was being loaded

and said, "If you can be aboard her in the next thirty minutes, you can join the

Surprise, leaving for San Francisco this afternoon".

He was a little taken aback at the effusiveness of my gratitude, thrust my

passage docket into my hand and showed me to the door. I walked - perhaps

skipped might be a more accurate description of my gait - across the quay to the

barge and jumped aboard. Within just a few minutes we were pulling away from

Tientsin harbour, and an hour later I was aboard HMS Surprise. Peking was behind

me - it was over ...

Our convoy from Peking on the River Peiho - 25 August 1900

HMS Surprise moored off Taku preparing

to leave for San Francisco - 27 August 1900