Indiscreet Letters From Peking: Being the Notes of an Eye-Witness, Which Set Forth in Some Detail, from Day to Day, the Real Story of the Siege and Sack of a Distressed Capital in 1900—The Year of Great Tribulation
History
Indiscreet Letters From Peking: Being the Notes of an Eye-Witness, Which Set Forth in Some Detail, from Day to Day, the Real Story of the Siege and Sack of a Distressed Capital in 1900—The Year of Great Tribulation
Beijing (China) -- History -- Siege, 1900 -- Personal narratives; Putnam Weale, B. L. (Bertram Lenox), 1877-1930 -- Correspondence
In the end a bargain was struck; two pairs of shoes for each man, and
the rest to be left untouched. Then the right feet appeared soon
enough from hidden places, and the shopmen were saved from further
loss. With all the other things the same procedure was adopted along
this shopman's street. A bargain was struck in each case, which saved
one side from undue loss and gave the other far less trouble. In this
new fashion we captured chickens, eggs, sheep, rice, flour, and a
dozen other necessaries, only taking a quarter of what we would have
seized otherwise, in return for the help given. It was curious
shopping, but everybody was curious now. What you did not take,
somebody would seize ten minutes later.
These occupations were so peaceful and gave so little difficulty, that
it soon seemed to me as if everything was actually settling down
quietly in this one corner of the city. Yet it was not so. We were
only having momentary luck. For presently soldiers of various
nationalities began passing in many directions, some returning from
successful forays, and others just starting out to see what they could
pick up. And on top of them all came a curious young fellow from one
of the Legations, galloping along on a big white horse he must have
just looted. He was accompanied by no one. He had been half-mad for
weeks during the siege and now seemed quite crazy as he rode.
It was he who had again and again volunteered to play the part of
executioner to all the wretched coolies engaged in sapping under our
lines who had been captured from time to time, and whose heads had at
once paid the last penalty. This man had done it always with a
shot-gun, and he had seemed to gloat over it; and in the end people
had taken a detestation for him, and looked upon him for some strange
reason as a little unclean. Now he was madly excited, and as soon as
he saw me he called out, in his thick Brussels accent, and made a long
broken speech, which I shall never forget.
"Have you seen them?" he said, not pausing for a reply. "It is the
sight of all others--the best of all. Hsu Tung, you remember, the
Imperial Tutor, who wished to make covers for his sedan chair with our
hides, and who was allowed to escape when we had him tight? Well, he
is swinging high now from his own rafters, he and his whole
household--wives, children, concubines, attendants, everyone. There
are sixteen of them in all--sixteen, all swinging from ropes tied on
with their own hands, and with the chairs on which they stood kicked
from under them. That they did in their death struggles. Everywhere
they have acted in the same way. They call it hanging, but it is not
that; it is really slow strangulation, which lasts for many minutes,
because at the last moment the victims become afraid and try to regain
their footholds."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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