``One day about noon, we reached a village from which most of the people had fled, and entering a home of wealth found there only a man about fifty or sixty years old who received us very courteously. Immedi- ately the Major demanded money, and the old man replied that though he had money it was not at hand. The Major then commanded his soldiers to bind him, while he himself went into the house to search for money. He found several weapons, among them a revolver and a sword with a red scarf bound on the handle. So he insisted that the old man must be a Boxer, and shot him with his own hand as he lay bound. As usual he impressed ten or more young men in the village to carry his loot, then compelled the strongest of them to remain and drag his boats…. Later, my brother told me in detail how some Sikhs had come to the village one day, and, seizing him and several neighbours, had tied a rope to their queues, then stringing them together like mules, with men leading in front and driving behind, had taken them to the river bank to drag boats. My brother had never done such work before. Wading in mud and water, sometimes up to his waist, with the whip lash to urge him on, he had dragged until nightfall, and then, not being allowed to sleep on the boat, had lain down on the wet river bank.''[93]
[93] ``Two Heroes of Cathay,'' pp. 154, 155, 158.
During my own visit in north China in the summer of 1901, I visited the hospital of the London Mission in Tien-tsin, immortalized by John Kenneth Mackenzie. I found that it was being used as a hospital for British soldiers who were suffering from venereal diseases. What a spectacle for the Chinese! What a coarse travesty of the religion of the pure Nazarene that the land from which the great British missionary came should crowd with foul white men the hospital that he had built with faith and love and prayer! In the same city, the fine Y. M. C. A. building was almost deserted by the Chinese because it was so situated that to reach it they would have to pass through the Taku Road in the Foreign Settlement, a street which was a cesspool of vice, lined with saloons, dance halls and gambling hells, and its sidewalks so crowded with fast women—French, German, American and Japanese—and with drunken, quarrelling foreign soldiers, that no respectable Chinese, or for that matter no decent foreign woman, could traverse it without fear of insult or abuse.
In Peking for several months after the relief of the legations, even respectable American ladies, to say nothing of Chinese women, could not prudently ride out except in closed carts, so great was the probability of indignity at the hands of foreign soldiers; while at the entrance of famous palaces, the ``public is politely requested not to kick the Chinese attendants because they decline to open doors which they are forbidden to unlock'' —a request that the conduct of foreigners had shown to be far from unnecessary.
In the pillaging of property, savages could not have been more lawless than the white men from ``the highly civilized nations of the West.''
``It is not literally true that every house in Peking was looted. There were some places in obscure alleys, and in many of the innumerable and almost impenetrable cul-de-sacs with which the capital abounds, that escaped. But persistent inquiry appears to leave no doubt of the fact that practically every yamen in the city has been rummaged, and practically there is nothing left of the contents of any of them.''[94]
[94] North China Daily News.
Words fail me to describe the beauties of the famous Summer Palace outside the city. With its gardens, temples, pagodas, bridges, lotus-ponds, statues, colonnades, walks and drives, it would do credit to the most highly civilized nation of Europe. A barbarous people could never have made such a paradise. The British and French in 1860 burned a considerable part of it, but the enclosure is so vast (twelve square miles) and the buildings are so numerous that the destroyed section appears almost insignificant. Within the grounds is a beautiful lake, fed by great springs and bordered by temples and avenues of trees and the yellow-roofed palaces of the Emperor, while near by rise the Western Hills.
This Palace is the favourite residence of the Empress Dowager and she spends long summers there. Here, too, the Emperor loves to come during the heated term and both have followed the example of their imperial predecessors in lavishing great sums upon its adornment.
After the siege the Russians occupied it at first, and when they left, the British and Italians took possession. Between the three so little was left that I found devastation reigning in that once splendidly-furnished Palace. All the rare and costly bric-a-brac had been carried away, the mirrors had been broken and the permanent ornaments defaced. A noble bronze statue of Buddha, in the temple crowning the summit of the hill, was lying ignominiously on the floor among a pile of debris, one dark hand stiffly pointing into the air. In a stately pavilion, I saw two superb golden statues of Buddha standing upright and looking unusually dignified, but on going behind them, I found that great holes had been punched in their backs.