It now became impracticable for the German and Russian troops to continue their advance along the right of the line, as they would have been in the open, with a hostile force of three times their number operating on their right flank, as well as being subjected to the fire from the field guns in the arsenal; so they covered the advance of the rest of the force who were engaged with the enemy in some entrenched villages in front. The Chinese were in force and under excellent cover, when suddenly the red ensign was distinguished flying over the Tientsin town hall, the sight of which proved to be a magnificent stimulant to the allies. Several men fell in the open, but the village was rushed without heavy loss, and the work of clearing the streets was begun. For some time it was warm work, and two companies of our sailors were placed in a difficult position from which they were cleverly extricated. As the men passed through the village it was burnt, which completely nullified the possibility of an attack in the rear, and as the houses began to grow fewer, and the open country appeared, the Imperial troops broke and fled. The few last streets were like a battue, and in this instance the much vaunted fearlessness of the Boxers, who at last had the courage to remain to the end, was severely tested. Some fanatics certainly “came” for the companies with swords, and one man had the temerity to hurl a ‘stinkpot’ at a lieutenant, but these were quite the exceptions, and were quickly dispatched. For the most part the Boxers had remained only to run at the last, or die; often the former, more often both. Quarter was neither asked for nor given, for in the Boxer proclamations were passages relating to European women and children which put them on a par with incarnate devils without human feelings. At length the work was finished, and once more the men left the village for the open. But before departing two incidents happened, one pathetic, the other weird. An old man was led right down the fire-swept street towards one of our companies by a little boy aged about four. The poor old fellow was blind, and his grandson seemingly preferred to trust our men rather than any one else. Who knows? perhaps he was right. Needless to say he was unharmed, and led out of the burning village safely. In the other case, a bluejacket just about to bayonet a man in the back, who had rushed at him with a sword and then fled, remarked, “No, I’m blowed if I do, it’s a dirty way of doing it,” and shot him instead.