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 very few minutes, however, they also had had enough, but as they
sprang down, and quickly gasping, sought the open air, they brought
with them the end of a rope. They had evidently not only located the
exact spot they were seeking, but had found the first trace which was
necessary to make their search successful. Still, it was impossible to
continue work in this way. It would take hours, at such a slow rate,
to dig down beneath those mountains of old treasure-sacks. It would
take more hours to excavate or open up chambers beneath. So we held a
short consultation. There was but one thing to do. We must tear down
one side of the building, so as to have more light, and to be able to
put more men to work. No sooner decided on, than the thing was done,
for in this work the Russians are supreme. They called in fatigue
parties from the infantry companies in garrison, and telling them in
simple language to break down one side of the building, in a few
moments a wonderful scene began. I had seen some rapid work at short
intervals during the worst agony of the siege, but never have I seen
men who could handle the axe and the crowbar like these rude
infantrymen. Everything went down under their blows--brickwork,
woodwork, stonework, iron stanchions, everything; and with a rapidity
which seemed incredible, gaping spaces appeared. Soon, standing
outside, from a dozen different points, you could see the Chinese
informants inside at work again, in those clouds of choking dust,
thrashing up and down, like men possessed.
But energy is not sufficient for some things. Three men were
attempting the work of a hundred. We must have more hands.
This time the dozens of small boys stringing cash in the outer
courtyards were called in and told to fall to; and forming lines which
oddly resembled those made by firemen, they were soon bundling out the
empty sacks to the open at the rate of thousands a minute. Faster and
faster they worked, as if the same frenzy had spread to them; wider
and wider moved the rings of floating dust, until they hung high above
everything and made the day seem dull and threatening. Then suddenly
the _ku-ping_ inside gave a shout. They had got low enough for the
time being--they wanted to be able to see. The squads of sweating
soldiers and the dozens of grimy little boys desisted and stood
open-eyed to see what was to follow. They were beginning to appreciate
the significance of it all.
We waited patiently and watched the great clouds melt away and settle
on our clothes and silt into our eyes; and then finally, when it was
clearer, a man inside struck a match, lit a candle and handed it down
into a great hole which had been dug through the very centre of these
decade-old bullion coverings. How deep the hole was I could not see,
but the three men slipped in and were entirely lost to our view.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account