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
pink walls of the Imperial city, which form a background to the
bridge, although he might as well have ordered musical drill.
Meanwhile the unfortunate J---- was caught half way across the stone
bridge by some other Chinese snipers, who had been lying concealed
there all the time behind some piles of stones. He was hit several
times, though not killed, as several people swear they saw him
crawling down into the canal bed on his hands and knees. Volley-firing
continued at the Main Gate, and the aforesaid British officer cursed
himself into a fever of rage over his men. Even when J---- had finally
disappeared, no steps were taken to see what had become of him; he was
calmly reported lost. This was the opening of the ball at the British
Legation.
No sooner was it dark than M----, the chief, appeared on the scenes,
smoking a cigarette reminiscent of his Egyptian campaign, and clad in
orthodox evening dress. This completed everyone's anger, but the end
was not yet. At ten in the evening a scare developed among the women,
and it was decided to begin fortifying some of the more exposed
points. Everybody who could be found was turned on to this work, but
in the dark little progress could be made excepting in removing all
possibility of any one going to sleep.
But the sublimely ridiculous was reached in an out-of-the-way building
facing the canal, an incident displaying even more than anything else
the attitude of some of the _personnel_ of our missions to China.
Sleeping peacefully in his nice pyjamas under a mosquito net was found
a sleek official of the London Board of Works, who wanted to know what
was meant by waking him up in the middle of the night. Investigations
elsewhere found other members of this Legation asleep in their beds;
everybody said the young men were all right, but those above a certain
age...!
The night thus spent itself very uneasily. They were only learning
what should have been known days before.
When day broke in the British Legation things had seemed more
impossible than ever. Orders and counter-orders came from every side;
the place was choked with women, missionaries, puling children, and
whole hosts of lamb-faced converts, whose presence in such close
proximity was intolerable. Heaven only knew how the matter would end.
The night before people had been only too glad to rush frantically to
a place of safety; with daylight they remembered that they were
terribly uncomfortable--that this might have to go on for days or for
weeks. It is very hard to die uncomfortably. I thought then that
things would never be shaken into proper shape.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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