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
It was a long climb to the top, up winding steps that never ceased and
through little pavilions which looked out on the scene below. A final
flight of stairs at last introduced you into a structure which crowned
the whole. From here the view was magnificent. Right below you
could see far into the Palace and inspect the marble bridges, the
lotus-covered sheets of water and all the other things of the Imperial
plaisaunce. Farther on, the city of Peking spread out in huge expanses
hemmed in only miles away by the grey tracing of the city walls and
the high-standing towers. Farther again were waving fields with uncut
crops rotting as they stood, because all the country people had fled
to escape the vengeance. On the very horizon line were dark hills. The
view was indeed immense and wonderful.
I stood lost a little in this contemplation, and forgot the
attendants who had so persistently followed me, until suddenly their
voices rose in a dispute which was purposely loud so that it should
engage my attention. At last, as the stratagem had failed, and I did
not turn, a soldier bolder than his comrades pushed up to me, and
saluting politely enough, said that they had a few things to sell,
although they had had hard luck and had found Peking almost empty.
Indeed, before showing me anything, they complained bitterly of the
men from Tonkin, who were no better than disciplinary battalions and
who got everything because they had come with the first columns. This
they called cruelly unjust. Then from their pockets and tunics these
men began producing their little _articles de vertu_. They made me
laugh at first, for they had systematised so much that each man's
possession had a ticket attached, with the price in francs clearly
marked. That was good commercialism brought straight from France.
They were, however, only the usual things--watches, rings,
snuff-boxes, hair-ornaments, curios of minor value, and a few stones
of bad colour. But the men crowded round me and extolled their wares
like the hucksters of Europe, and beseeched me to buy in a most
anxious manner. They would sell cheap, very cheap, they confessed, at
the present moment, because they had just learned that an order had
been issued to search all their kits and to turn over the finds to a
common fund. Rumours had spread to Europe, they said--it was the first
I had heard of it--of the dark things which had been going on, and the
generals were becoming alarmed....
Fortunately I had with me some gold coin, and for a mere song I
purchased everything. I did not want to do so, but already experience
has taught us that it is best to buy when you are alone and no help
near by, otherwise your pockets may be turned out and everything taken
without an excuse. That happened to a man in the German Legation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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