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
Prince Ching is so miserably poor, they say, and has so little of the
things he most needs, that he has been forced to borrow looted _sycee_
from corps commanders and to give orders on the Southern Treaty ports
in payment. It is an extraordinary situation.
A number of little expeditions have already been pushed out forty,
fifty and even sixty miles into the country, feeling for any remnants
of the Chinese armies which may remain. I went with one of these
_faute-de mieux_, as Peking has become so gloomy, and there is so
little to do that it fills one with an immense nostalgia to remain and
continually to contemplate the ruins and devastation, from which there
can be no escape.
Never shall I regret that little expedition into the rude hills and
mountains, where climbs in wonderful manner the Great Wall of China.
It was divine. There was a sense of freedom and of openness which no
one who has not been a prisoner in a siege can ever experience. In the
morning sweet-throated cavalry trumpets sounded a reveille, which
floated over hill and dale so chastely and calmly that one wished they
might never stop. How those notes floated and trembled in the air, as
grey daylight was gently stealing up, and how good the brown earth
smelt! I almost forget the other kind of trumpet--that cruel Chinese
trumpet which only shrieks and roars.
Each day we rode farther and farther away, and higher and higher,
beating the ground and examining the villages, from which whole
populations had fled, to see that no enemy was secretly lurking.
Travelling in this wise, and presently climbing ever higher and
higher, we came at last to little mountain burgs, with great thick
outer walls and tall watch-towers, where in olden days the marauders
from the Mongolian plains were held in check until help could be
summoned from the country below. It was a wonderful experience to
travel along unaccustomed paths and to come on endless ruined bastions
and ivy-clad gates, which closed every ingress from Mongolia. Once
these defences must have been of enormous strength.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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