Underneath the bridge nearest to the arsenal, the Chinese had placed two 500lb. observation mines, upon which two tired American marines thought fit to sit; but the Chinese did not explode them, and the wires were cut before any damage was done.

Tientsin Town Hall.

[page 108.

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.

When clear of the village the settlements were in full view, and the intervening mile or so was soon passed. Some of the staff crossed the river in sampans, while the rest of the force made their way up the bank, and arrived at the ruined military college, just in time to catch the last of the Imperials, who were by this time in full flight from our extreme right, where they had attempted to rally on deserting the left and centre. A raft of logs was swung over the river, and the tired but elated men scrambled over into the relieved town, amid cheers and general congratulations. The pleasure of the meeting was mutual, for it was doubted if the garrison could hold out so long, in addition to which, the gratification of the relieving force, at meeting old shipmates and friends, was quite as keen as that of the defenders. The twelve miles had been traversed in eight hours, which seems an unconscionably long time, when the fact of the fighting, not having been very severe, is taken into consideration. But it must be remembered that the ground over which the march had taken place was mainly sand, that a blinding sand-storm had been blowing in the men’s faces, and that the opposing force was greatly superior in point of numbers and position. Only those who have experienced a heavy sand-storm in the middle of a hot summer day, can sufficiently appreciate the second cause of our tardy march.

In view of the after events, “The relief of Tientsin” seems almost a misnomer, but by this action much-needed guns and reinforcements had been brought in, and the communications to Taku had been cleared, and henceforth, through the military incapacity of the Chinese generals, they remained open.

The Russians encamped on the left bank of the river, and, in consequence of their presence, the station could in future only be attacked from two sides instead of three. Instead of the terrible uncertainty which the Allies had felt about themselves on the day before, there was now a conviction that the eventual relief of Pekin was only a matter of time. But as Seymour was still unheard of, and his whereabouts unknown, his relief would evidently have to be their next task.