THE LAST DAYS OF PEKIN [Illustration: _Copyright, 1901, by J. C. Hemment_ EMPEROR'S THRONE IN THE FORBIDDEN CITY] The Last Days of Pekin _Translated from the French of Pierre Loti_ _By_ MYRTA L. JONES _Illustrated from Photographs, and Drawings by Jessie B. Jones_ Boston Little, Brown, and Company 1902 _Copyright, 1902_, BY LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY. _All rights reserved_ Published November, 1902 UNIVERSITY PRESS · JOHN WILSON AND SON · CAMBRIDGE, U. S. A. DEDICATION TO VICE-ADMIRAL POTTIER _Commander-in-Chief of the Squadron of the Far East_ ADMIRAL:-- The notes which I sent to the "Figaro" from China are to be collected in a volume which will be published in Paris before my return, so that it will be impossible for me to look it over. I am therefore a little uneasy as to how such a collection may turn out; it will doubtless contain much repetition. Yet I beg that you will accept this dedication as a token of the profound and affectionate respect of your first aide-de-camp. You will be more indulgent than any one else, because you know under what conditions it was written,--from day to day during a painful campaign in the midst of the continual excitement of life aboard ship. I have restricted myself to noting the things which have come under my own observation while undertaking the missions to which you assigned me, and in the course of the journey which you allowed me to take into a certain part of China hitherto almost unknown. When we reached the Yellow Sea, Pekin had been taken, and the war was over. I could, therefore, only observe our soldiers during the period of peaceful occupation. Under these circumstances I have seen them always kind and almost fraternal in manner toward the humblest of the Chinese. May my book contribute its small part toward destroying the shameful stories published against them! Perhaps you may reproach me, Admiral, for saying almost nothing of the sailors who remained on our ships, who were constantly toiling with never a murmur or a loss of courage during our long and dangerous sojourn in the waters of Petchili. Poor sequestered beings living between steel walls! They did not have, to sustain them, as their superiors had, any of the responsibilities which make up the interest of life, or the stimulus that comes from having to decide serious questions. They knew nothing, they saw nothing, not even the sinister coast in the distance. In spite of the heat of a Chinese summer, fires were burning day and night in their stifling quarters; they lived bathed in a moist heat, dripping with perspiration, coming out only for exhausting drill-work in small boats, in bad weather, and often in the dead of night and on boisterous seas. One needs but a glance at their thin pale faces now, to understand how difficult their obscure rôle has been.