On being apprised of the state of affairs, entreaty and invective held the ring in turn against all comers for quite a time. Some, more wily, who possessed a knowledge of French, tried to palm themselves off as Frenchmen. About this is a curious story to be told, first mentioning that a similar story is current, which had quite a different ending, but which, in all other respects, tallies with this one. Several rickshaws came along under the charge of two or three men, who, when stopped by a military picket, jabbered away in French, shrugged their shoulders, lifted their hands, and twirled their moustachios to such an extent that they were allowed to pass; but, unfortunately, they “struck” a naval picket, under the command of a very small, but very officious midshipman, who considered it to be nothing less than sinful to allow such a haul to escape his clutches, so he ordered the party to barracks for investigation. They didn’t want to go a bit, and at last their French broke down when they had got half-way, and found that, owing to the young officer having but an imperfect knowledge of the language, it was impossible—quite impossible—to persuade him to alter his mind by arguing in French. Finally, the loot and its erstwhile owners parted company, the latter swearing volubly, but in English. And yet there are people who say that the British Naval Officer’s greatest failing is his want of knowledge in foreign tongues! Incidents of the same sort followed each other in quick succession, and by the night of the 15th the looting of Tientsin was at an end.

CHAPTER X
A SUMMARY OF WORK DONE. PREPARATIONS FOR FINAL ADVANCE. FIGHTING AROUND TIENTSIN DURING THE SAME.

Much had now been done towards ensuring the safety of European life and property in the North, but much yet remained to do. To begin with, the fate of the Legations in Pekin was still unknown, and all the last runners to get through were the bearers of more and more hopeless messages, which contained prayers for a speedy relief; and as the safety, or rather want of safety, of the Ministers had been responsible for every move on the part of the Allies, it will be seen that, even apart from political considerations, and they were many, the relief of Pekin was now a matter of the greatest importance; in fact, it was merely the end to which all other operations had been the means. The Taku Forts had been taken, not because a rising at Tientsin was feared, but because it was necessary to have a base resting on the sea, from which supplies and men could be sent to Admiral Seymour, who, of course, had the safety of the Ministers almost solely at heart, when he at first commenced his splendid but unavailing attempt to reach the capital.

After that first success, we have seen how Tientsin settlements were attacked by the enemy, and how, after a gallant defence, they were relieved by the column from the forts, who had been reinforced from Port Arthur and Hong-Kong. Immediately after—in fact, at the same time as all this was taking place—we have followed Seymour’s march and ultimate retirement, and the relief of Tientsin brings us to his relief, which followed on the next day. Then comes the second siege of Tientsin, with its extraordinary aggressive defence, during which all outlying Chinese arsenals and positions were stormed and taken, until at last Tientsin city alone remained. This stronghold itself was attacked and fell, and there seemed likely to be a prolonged rest on both sides, for it had already been proved that to advance on Pekin with anything but an overwhelming force was useless, and it may be confidently asserted that the Chinese would not have resumed offensive tactics for some time, on account of extreme exhaustion—the word being used in the sense in which it is applicable to an army, rather than in its physical meaning. But all the operations had taken time, and during the month that had elapsed from the commencement of the war, troops were hurrying from Kiel, Marseilles, Spezzia, Fiume, India, the Philippines, Japan, and Port Arthur, and a number of these had already landed at Taku.

It became evident that the sailors’ work as infantrymen had finished, and they once more found themselves employed as “Handymen,” mounting two 4-in. Q.F. on field carriages, getting junks ready for the army, unloading lighters, doing all the fatigue work—in fact, tidying up, so that the soldiers might have a flying start. This kind of thing represents the dregs of active service, but the men had the satisfaction of knowing that they were going to be represented by six guns and a battalion of marines, and they worked to such purpose that it may be doubted whether any army corps has ever landed to find such a perfect preparation, or their initial task in such a nearly finished condition. As many men as could be spared went down to their ships to recruit their health for the fortnight before the advance was to commence, but a company were shortly recalled to Tientsin, and received orders to construct a battery on the south face of the settlements, to ward off a possible attack from the south-westward, where it was reported the enemy were massing in great numbers. Work was commenced on the night of arrival, and by the next evening, by dint of much labour, the following guns were in position, ready for use: seven 6-pr. Q.F., three 9-pr. M.L. field guns, three Maxims, and a five-barrelled Nordenfelt. It might be termed a scratch pack, but such was their position, that they were capable of holding off any number of infantry, and might have successfully dealt with artillery up to three thousand yards.

The first British troops to arrive were the 7th Rajputs, and some of the 1st Bengal Lancers; they caused a great impression by their soldierly bearing, and were eyed with curiosity by the other European soldiers. After them came Sikhs, Bengal cavalry, Madras pioneers, and Baluchis, all of whom impressed the onlooker as preferable allies rather than antagonists. The troops of other nations were quickly on the scene, and Tientsin gradually became a huge camp of armed men. The life was not an unenjoyable one; fresh food in plenty was again obtainable, the native hawkers came back in small numbers with fruit and vegetables, and in the evenings two bands played for about an hour. There was also a prospect of some perfectly quiet nights, which had been the great exception for some time past, and which remained in the prospective stage even now, for the mosquitoes worried one more than the sound of a rifle or shell fire; and while one can get used to the latter evil in but a short time, it is next to impossible to accustom oneself to the attacks of myriads of the former, whose bites are irritable for days. An interesting piece of work was the discovery and reclaiming of Seymour’s 9-pr. M.L. guns, which had been thrown into the river during the retirement. They were found in an arsenal inside the city when it fell, and were dragged back in triumph to the settlement, where they were painted Khaki colour and placed on the steps of the Town Hall, which they still adorn. It is not to be supposed that the troops had an easy time; they were constantly drilling, the horses were being got into condition after their voyages, portable filters were made from congues and sand and charcoal, the former being obtained and prepared—in fact, everything possible was done to ensure a start at the first moment that the Allies’ numbers would reach the required total, said by some to be 25,000, by others 40,000 at least. The British went a long way ahead in the matter of junks, for they secured a junk yard with about eighty new junks in it—an extraordinary capture, considering the way in which other nations usually forestalled us in matters of this sort. As a matter of fact, only about half the junks were available for use, owing to the fact that they, being new, opened their seams and sank immediately they were floated; however, the ones which had been taken on the river provided ample accommodation for the British contingent. The work of collecting junks off the river was a task not looked forward to by either officers or men, consisting, as it did, of turning whole families out into the banks, from what had been their sole living place; but the orders were to get junks, and empty ones are not found floating about in war-time even in China. One certainly was seen floating by itself, and, being of a suitable nature and size, it was immediately boarded. It was, however, tenanted by eight corpses of people who had met violent deaths,—and was therefore allowed to go on floating. Sights like this, and others yet more horrible, were only too common, and it is not to be wondered at that the “junk parties,” as they were called, were glad when their labours finished, and a sufficient number had been collected.

The allied Commanders usually met every day to discuss their plans, and to fix the probable date of starting, when an event happened which altered all existing arrangements. A message arrived, which again urged the necessity of the utmost despatch, or it would be too late. This, at least, showed that things were fearfully critical inside the Capital, and it found a responsive echo in the Commanders’ breasts, so that it was decided to leave Tientsin on August 5th, which date was afterwards altered to the 4th.

Of course the advance had been preceded by a reconnaissance to ascertain where the enemy intended making his first stand, to discover his numbers, and to make him, if possible, disclose the strength of his position. This had all been done by the Japanese on the 21st of July, and when at last the little army moved out of the settlement, it was felt that everything possible had been done to ensure the success of the enterprise.

When the relief force had left, the troops in the settlement, consisting of Japanese, Indians, and a few Americans, French, and Russians, and a small Naval detachment, still had plenty to do; scares began again immediately, and a new system of defence had to be arranged. The British were busily employed in perfecting the south battery, and all the other nations were working at similar tasks.