Indiscreet Letters From Peking Part 24
You’re reading novel Indiscreet Letters From Peking Part 24 online at LightNovelFree.com. Please use the follow button to get notification about the latest chapter next time when you visit LightNovelFree.com. Use F11 button to read novel in full-screen(PC only). Drop by anytime you want to read free – fast – latest novel. It’s great if you could leave a comment, share your opinion about the new chapters, new novel with others on the internet. We’ll do our best to bring you the finest, latest novel everyday. Enjoy!
IX
DRIFTING
September, 1900.
There is not a single sc.r.a.p of news worth recording, although telegrams are now coming through more and more freely by the field telegraphs from Europe. Still, no one knows what is going to happen.
As an appreciation of the astute action of the Court in fleeing at the last second of the eleventh hour becomes more and more general, people begin to see how absurd we have become with our avenging armies which were going to do so much, and are now merely traders collecting and valuing and slowly taking away the best loot of the capital. The troops effected the relief, it is true; but there should have been other steps. If these are now taken it is too late. Some, indeed, say that punitive expeditions are going to be sent into the country as soon as a transport service can be organised. Even now nests of Boxers and disbanded soldiers are reported in great numbers only a few miles beyond Peking. These men seem to understand that they are quite safe even so close as this to the European corps, and that ample warning will be conveyed to them directly there is any movement, so as to allow them to escape. They, too, are now pillaging and setting fire far and wide. Cossacks and other cavalry are supposed to be out many miles beyond Peking, sweeping the country, and blowing up or setting fire to temples and rich country-seats as a warning to others of the fate which may overtake all for harbouring evil-doers. Yet even this is done on no system. It is irresolute, foolish. A day or two ago, from the top of the Tartar Wall, where I was idly sitting, I saw a huge pillar of smoke roll up on the horizon ten or fifteen miles away, and gradually spread farther and farther. The air was very still, for the heat can still be baking in the midday of this autumn month, and that smoke hung on the skies like some funeral pall. Into the hearts of a whole country-side it must have struck a blind terror, for the peasants still believe that they are all to die as soon as the troops move out. The panic is thus only being added to; and a sort of blind scourging of people who may not be in the least guilty can never be of use. There is also still the same palsy on everyone and everything in Peking. No one really knows what is going to happen. No one very much cares. They say that this is being debated in Europe, and that there are divided counsels which may bring about a split and really turn the various corps now nominally allied to one another into active enemies, as I dream when I see those jealous guards at the Palace entrances....
Yesterday some Chinese whom I had known in the old days came stealthily to see me, and as soon as they were alone with me, without excuse or warning, they fell on their knees and began bitterly weeping. How sad, indeed, they were, these respectable people of the Chinese _bourgeoisie_--so sad that for a long time I could not persuade them to speak. Yet even as they wept they were dignified in a curious way, and you felt that you were in the presence of men who had only been cruelly wronged. At length they began speaking. They had lost everything, absolutely everything, they said, what with the Boxers and the sack, all this long, unending Reign of Terror. But that they did not mind. They were bitter and beyond consolation because they had lost the intangible--their honour. Each one had had women of their households violated. One, with many hideous details, told me how ... soldiers came in and violated all his womankind, young and old.
That account, muttered to me with trembling lips, was no invention.
Their blanched and haggard faces showed that it was only the truth they were speaking. About such elemental tragedies no one lies.
I tried to comfort these poor men as best I could. I told them old sayings which had once been familiar to me; it was hard to know really what to do. Yet they at length became more philosophic, and said they understood that this was a visitation which the nation had deserved.
China had been utterly wrong; it had been madness. Then they remained silent, and that silence was like a sermon straight from Heaven, both for them and for me. I saw dimly for a few seconds many things, and understood that it was useless saying more. But as they were wretchedly poor, I gave them silver from the rich men's houses, which seemed very Biblical--each man as much as he could carry--and told them that they could always come for more. I asked them also to tell all the people I had known to come, too; I would do as much as I could for all of them. So all to-day they have been coming, and I have showered largesse. A few households have thus some relief, but the last man who came told me that a Hanlin scholar, who was his neighbour--a learned man, who in the times of peace was courted by all--is now selling wretched little cakes down the side alleys so as to save himself and his few remaining relations from slow starvation.
Such things are the dregs. It is too much....
X
PICKING UP THREADS
September, 1900.
I suppose in some subtle way the conviction is being gradually forced home that something must really be done to try and ameliorate the general situation. It could obviously not go on forever in this way, with the commanders of the rival columns almost fighting among themselves, and with everybody quietly looting, and our Ministers, who have lost so much, just twiddling their thumbs and delaying their departure because they are afraid of worse things happening. So somebody has been getting into communication with whoever represents the last vestiges of Chinese authority in this ruined capital, and diligent search has discovered that there are actually a few high officials left and a great number of smaller ones. These have all shown a trembling haste to oblige; and after some _pourparlers_, there is now a faint possibility of a _modus vivendi_ being arranged during the next few weeks.
For it soon transpired, after the confidence of these remaining officials had been gained, that Prince Ching had been discreetly dropped by the fleeing Court only about fifty miles to the southwest of Peking--dropped just behind the first mountain barriers, so that he was at once safe and yet within easy call. He had been in waiting there for weeks, it appears. Sage old man! Those conciliatory despatches, coming from the officers of the defunct Tsung-li Yamen, have made of this old Manchu prince the natural person to bridge over the ever-widening gulf the Court has dug by its insanity. People remember now that this procedure of leaving behind a Prince to begin the first _pourparlers_ is only the precedent of 1860. Then Prince Kung played exactly the same _role_ when the Court had fled to Jehol.
Prince Ching fenced a long time before he would move forward, or even disclose his safe hiding-place; but in the end he was prevailed upon by some one. And yesterday he actually entered Peking through the same Northern Gates which witnessed the mad flight of the Court a month ago.
Many rode out to see this entry, half expecting something spectacular, which would give them a change of thought. But they were grievously disappointed. Prince Ching merely appeared in a sedan chair, looking very old and very white, and with his _cortege_ closely surrounded by j.a.panese cavalry, whose drawn swords gave the great man the appearance of a prisoner rather than that of an Envoy. Every Chinese official, large and small, in the city came out on this occasion for the first time since the troops burst in; and sitting in what carts they could find, and clothed in the remains of their official clothes, they paid their Manchu dignitary their trembling respects. What terror these wretched men exhibited until they actually met the Prince, and saw that there was going to be no treachery of shooting down by ignorant soldiery! For a whole month everyone of them had been living disguised in the most humble clothes, escaping over back walls directly news was brought that marauders were at their front doors; offering their very women up so as to escape themselves; living in all truth the most wretched lives. Hourly they had expected to be denounced by enemies to the European commanders as ex-Boxer chiefs, and then to be summarily shot. That is what had happened for miles round Monseigneur F----'s cathedral, it is being whispered. The native Catholics, having died in hundreds, and lost whole families of relatives, had revenged themselves as cruelly as only men who have been between life and death for many weeks do. They had led French soldiers into every suspected household, and pointing out the man on whom rumour had fixed some small blame, they had exacted vengeance.
Even on this day of Prince Ching's entry this search and revenge was still going on; there were so many scores to pay....
It was plain to me that every official was thinking of these things, for the little convoys that I watched all day wending their way to the north of the city represented petrified fear in forms that I hope I may never see again. I stopped one cart, all bedecked with flags--German flags, English flags, Russian flags, French flags, j.a.panese flags, every kind of flag, to help to protect from all possible injury--merely to inquire at what hour precisely Prince Ching would arrive and where he was going to live. What a result these questions had! Instantly he heard my voice, the official inside the cart crawled half out with a deathly green pallor on his face, and with his whole body trembling so violently that I thought he would collapse for good. As it was, he remained in a sort of stricken att.i.tude, like a man who has been stunned. He was quite speechless. I called to him several times that all was well, that he would not be hurt, to calm himself.... In vain. Every word I spoke only added to his terror and remained unintelligible because of his panic. He was a lost soul--for ever. The iron had entered too deeply. He was so smitten that he never could be cured.
His outriders, who had swung themselves from their saddles, at last bowed to me. They were a little pale, but quite collected.
"Excellency," they said, "forgive him; it is not his fault. He has been frightened into semi-insanity." "_Hsia hu-tu-lo,"_ they said.
Yes, that is the phrase, frightened into semi-lunacy. They are employing this for everyone. The tragedy has been so immense, the strain has been endured for so many months, there has been so much of it, that all minds excepting those of the common people have become a little unhinged. Half the time you speak to men you are not understood; they look at you with staring eyes, wondering whether the rifle or the bayonet is to follow the question. It is past curing for the time being.
Meanwhile Prince Ching has got in safely, and has been given a big residence, which is closely guarded by the j.a.panese. Perhaps the _modus vivendi_ will after all be arranged.
XI
THE IMPOSSIBLE
30th September, 1900.
Prince Ching has been here a number of days now--I have not even taken the trouble to note how many--but still nothing has been done. They say that half the Powers refuse to treat with him until things are better arranged, and that the Russians have already raised insuperable difficulties because they say the j.a.panese have the big Manchu in their pocket. Others argue that expeditions must really be launched against a number of cities in Northern China, where hideous atrocities have been committed, and where missionaries and converts were butchered in countless numbers during the Boxer reign. Until these expeditions have marched and had their revenge, there can be no treating. There must be more killing, more blood. That is what people say.
The fleeing Court has reached Taiyuanfu, it is reliably reported. This is three hundred miles away, but the Court does not yet feel safe; it is going farther west, straight on to Hsianfu, the capital of Shensi province, which is seven hundred miles away. That is a big gulf to bridge; yet if there is any advance of European corps in that direction, already Chinese say that the Empress will flee into the terribly distant Kansu province--perhaps to Langchou, which is another four hundred miles inland; perhaps even to Kanchau or Suchau, which are five hundred miles nearer Central Asia. These cities, lying at the very southwestern extremity of the Great Wall of China, look out over the vast steppes of Mongolia, where there are nothing but Mongols belonging to many hordes, who live in the saddle and drive their flocks of sheep and their herds of ponies in front of them, forever moving. It is nearly two thousand miles in all; no European armies could ever follow, not in five years. They would slowly melt away on that long, interminable road. With such a line of retreat open the Court is absolutely safe, and knows it. It can act as it pleases.
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.
One night, after journeying for a long time, we camped in one of these little mountain burgs, taking full possession, so that there should be no treachery while it was dark. The night pa.s.sed quietly, for even fifty miles beyond Peking the terror lies heavy on the land, and in the morning we wandered to the ma.s.sive iron-clad gates and the tall watch-towers which stood sentinel on either side to see if there was anything to be had. How old these were, how very old! For, mounting the staircase leading to the towers, we found that, although the rude rooms beneath showed signs of having been recently occupied, the stone steps which led to the roof-chambers were covered with enormous cobwebs and great layers of dust, showing that nothing had been disturbed for very many years. That was as it should be. At the very top of one tower we discovered a locked door, and beating it in amid showers of dust, we penetrated a room such as a witch of mediaeval Europe would dearly have loved. Nothing but cobwebs, dust, flapping, grey-yellow paper and decay. It was immensely old.
And yet we found something. For there were some chests hidden away, and prizing these open, we discovered great books of yellow parchment, so old and so sodden that they fell to pieces as soon as one touched them. They were in some Mongol or Manchu script. They, too, were centuries old. But there was something else--a great discovery.
Beneath the books we found helmets, inlaid with silver and gold and embellished with black velvet trappings studded with little iron k.n.o.bs. There were also complete suits of chain armour. It seemed to us in that early morning that we were suddenly discovering the Middle Ages, perhaps even the Dark Ages. For these things were not even early Manchu; they were Mongol; Mogul--the war-dress of conquerors whose bodies had been rotting in the dust for five, six, seven, eight, or even nine centuries. These relics had lain there undisturbed for all this time because China has been merely tilling the fields and neglecting everything else. In a curious mood we donned these suits and went down below clad as the conquerors of old.
There were some Indian troopers waiting, and when they saw these things they exclaimed and muttered excitedly to one another, casting half-startled looks. These were the same trappings and war-dresses as in the days of the Great Moguls at Delhi. The very same. The conquerors who had swept across high Asia had worn such things, and every man from Northern India must have understood their meaning and message. As they looked the Indian troopers chattered and talked to one another in a growing excitement. It seemed as if we had suddenly dug up some links of the half-forgotten past which showed how the chain of armed men had been tightly bound by Genghis Khan and Batu Khan, and all the other great Khans, from the Great Wall of China all round Northern and Central Asia, until it had reached down over the Himalayas into India. It was very curious.
When we had finished this reconnaissance, which carried us in every direction under the shadow of the Great Wall, we turned bridle and made back towards Peking by another route. A day's march away from the capital, word was brought us that there were still numbers of disbanded soldiery and suspected Boxers hiding in the Nan-Hai-tsu--a great Imperial Hunting Park, which had fallen into decay during the present century. We would have to sweep this park, which was dozens of miles broad and quite wild, and scatter any bands we might find. So starting after midnight, we marched hard in the gloom for several hours with native guides leading us, and daylight found us under the encircling wall of the ancient hunting-ground. We halted there a bit and refreshed ourselves quickly, and then galloped in through a breach. There were miles upon miles of beautiful gra.s.s stretches, and we and our mounts were fairly pumped before we saw or heard anything.
But towards midday we came on some tiny hills and a few low buildings, which seemed suspicious, and no sooner had we approached than a whole nest of men rushed out on us, firing and shouting as they ran. Some had only huge lances made of bamboo, fifteen feet and more long, and tipped with iron and with little red pennons fluttering; yet these were the most effective of all. Waving these lances violently, and holding them in such a manner that it was impossible to get near, these men scattered our charge before it got home and unhorsed a number of troopers. Then it became a general _melee_, which ended in the killing or capture of a few of the enemy and the rapid escape of the remainder.
Very late in the evening we rode into Peking with our helmets and our coats of mail and our long lances as trophies. The capital seemed terribly listless and oppressed after the country beyond, and I was bitterly sorry that expedition had not lasted for weeks and months.
XII
SUSPENSE
October, 1900.
Indiscreet Letters From Peking Part 24
You're reading novel Indiscreet Letters From Peking Part 24 online at LightNovelFree.com. You can use the follow function to bookmark your favorite novel ( Only for registered users ). If you find any errors ( broken links, can't load photos, etc.. ), Please let us know so we can fix it as soon as possible. And when you start a conversation or debate about a certain topic with other people, please do not offend them just because you don't like their opinions.
Indiscreet Letters From Peking Part 24 summary
You're reading Indiscreet Letters From Peking Part 24. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: B. L. Putnam Weale already has 725 views.
It's great if you read and follow any novel on our website. We promise you that we'll bring you the latest, hottest novel everyday and FREE.
LightNovelFree.com is a most smartest website for reading novel online, it can automatic resize images to fit your pc screen, even on your mobile. Experience now by using your smartphone and access to LightNovelFree.com