From his commanding position on the top of the wall, Gilbert could now see a sight the like of which he had never before witnessed, and which, he felt, he should never see again. As far as eye could reach, the streets below, crooked, narrow, and filthy, were filled with Chinese soldiers and citizens, women and children, rushing hither and thither, shouting, crying, and pushing each other out of the way. Many men and women carried their household effects on their backs; and they tramped heartlessly over those who had gone down, wounded or killed. The discharge of artillery had set fire to scores of buildings, and the swirling smoke and the crackling of the flames added to the horror of the spectacle. Over by the Temple of Heaven some British cavalry and Punjab infantry were scattering the crowds which had come there hoping to find a place of safety, the cavalry literally riding over the masses when they refused to move. Further on was another British detachment, making for the water-gate opposite to the legations in the Tartar City.
But now was no time to view even such a fascinating sight; and, leaving the wall, Gilbert ordered his company to rejoin the remainder of the battalion, which was following the British troops through the gate. Soon the grounds of the Temple of Heaven were gained; and the company stopped for a brief rest, the Chinese having in the mean while fled in all directions.
The English, followed by the Americans, were now making for the central gate of the Tartar City, the gate nearest to the legations; for from the wall here the Celestials could command both the legations and the forces of the approaching Allies.
But this attack was anticipated by the Americans and the Russians in the British compound; and a daring rush by the American marines, followed by the soldiers of the Czar, speedily put the Chinese to flight, with the loss of many men. Some of the flying Chinese were confronted by Major Morris’s command, and another skirmish resulted; but this was of short duration. As soon as the gate had fallen, two field-pieces were brought in, and taken to the British compound. Other field-pieces were taken to the grounds of the Temple of Heaven, which afterward became a camping-spot for the British and for some of the Americans.
Arriving at the Tartar wall opposite the legations, the American troops were told to follow the British through the canal gate, and were soon at the entrance to the compound. Here men, women, and children ran out to greet them, some fairly embracing the soldiers who had suffered so much in order to get to their relief.
“We have waited for you for fifty-six days,” exclaimed the Rev. Mr. Wells. “God be thanked that you have come!”
“Americans, cheer your flag!” shouted Mr. Tewksbury, the missionary; and then came a loud hurrah, in which not only the Americans, but many others joined. Then came more cheering, for the English, French, Germans, and others; and, as night drew on, camp-fires were lit in honor of the occasion, and the missionaries and others gathered around and sang the Doxology, and praised God that the long and perilous siege was a thing of the past.
But the work for the troops was not yet over, and Gilbert was allowed to remain at the compound only a short time. Yet he managed to hunt up the Rev. Mr. Wells.
“Larry Russell wrote to me about you,” he said. “I am glad that you are well.”
“I am thankful to have you come to our aid,” replied the missionary. “It is a glorious victory. What are you going to do next?”