Whose business ’tis to die?”
the interrupted revelry was renewed.
Between us and the sea lay the strong and well‐armed forts that had fallen before the audacious challenge of the little Pigmy. From their walls floated the flags of the Allies; and Cossacks, German, Japanese, and Indian troops could be seen upon their ramparts. Behind us lay the ruins of what must have been a large fortified camp just inside the Wall.
To the left the town of Shanhaikwan lay penned in by its lofty but antiquated fortifications. Past it the Great Wall ran away to the west until lost to our sight among the slopes of a range of hills. Here and there the climbing line was seen topping the summit of a steep eminence, and one could appreciate the magnitude of the task of its builders when they set themselves to fence China from the ravaging hordes of the unknown lands.
And away north and south stretched the thin shining line of the railway, along which the soldiers of the Czar hope to swarm one day to plant their eagles once more in Pekin, never again to be removed. As we stood on the Great Wall flocks of snipe and duck flew past us to the south, already fleeing before the approach of the dread winter of Northern Asia.
We went on to pay a visit to the forts, which, when they were held by the Chinese, had been armed with powerful and modern guns. Concerning one of these forts an amusing story, illustrative of foreign guile, was told. The place was occupied by one Power, who had quartered in it a battery of artillery. In the re‐arrangement of the garrison of Shanhaikwan, at a council of the allied commanders, it was decided that this fort should be handed over to the English. But although the foreign General agreed at the time, all the subsequent endeavours of the British to induce him to name a day for the evacuation and transfer were fruitless. Regrets, excuses, indefinite promises were freely made; but some unexpected and insurmountable obstacle invariably intervened. At length when the surrender of the fort could no longer be refused, a certain date for the foreign troops to march out and the place to be handed over to the English was fixed. The day arrived. The relieving British garrison marched up to the gate. There they were met by the apparently bewildered foreign commander, who expressed considerable astonishment at their presence. When reminded that this was the day agreed upon, he smiled politely, and assured the British officers that they had made a mistake. He pointed out that they had apparently calculated by the modern style calendar, forgetting that the old style was still in vogue in some countries and had been adopted by him in his reckoning. Consequently the day had not yet come. Lost in unwilling admiration at this clever instance of duplicity, the British were obliged to withdraw.
On the eve of the day on which he declared that the fort would really be evacuated, the battery garrisoning it marched out with much pomp and publicity. The British smiled as they watched them go, well pleased at having got rid of them at last. They plumed themselves on their moral victory; and they marched up next morning to the fort in triumph. But the other flag was still flying, and inside they saw the same battery whose departure they had witnessed the evening before. They stared in bewilderment. They could recognise some of the officers and men. Then an explanation was angrily demanded. It was readily forthcoming. This was not the same battery as before. Far from it. That was by this time well on its way to the North. But by an extraordinary coincidence another battery had suddenly and most unexpectedly arrived during the night to the foreign General’s utter astonishment, as no intimation of their coming had been vouchsafed him. And as he had no other place to quarter them in but the fort, he had been obliged most reluctantly to send them there. He was desolated at the unfortunate necessity. He offered his profoundest regrets, and trusted that his dear allies would realise that he was helpless. So the outwitted British had again to withdraw. As a matter of fact the battery had simply marched out of sight in the evening and come back during the night. So with baffling ingenuity the foreign General contrived to retain the fort for some time longer in his hands; though he was forced to surrender it in the end.
After inspecting several of the forts, some of our party went off to pay a visit to the town, while others walked down to the shore and gazed out at the Japanese fleet and the long hull of H.M.S. Terrible, which was lying at anchor. As we looked at the water sparkling in the bright sunlight, it was difficult to realise that in the winter the sea here is frozen for several miles out from the shore. From this fact one can form some idea of the intense cold of the winter months in North China. And yet the Indian troops, natives of a warm climate, suffered comparatively little and the percentage of admissions into hospital from our contingent was remarkably small, so well were they looked after by their officers and so generous was the free issue of warm clothing by the Indian Government.
In the afternoon some of us attended a cricket match between the crew of the Terrible and the British garrison. Hardly had the stumps been drawn and the players gone into the refreshment tent when some snipe settled on the pitch. An officer quartered in a fort close to the cricket ground sent for his gun, and secured a couple then and there.
I dined that night with the Russian Railway Staff Officer in his quarters in the station. They consisted of two or three large and comfortable rooms. The furniture, which had been supplied to him by his Government, was almost luxurious, in marked contrast with the indifferent tables and the camp chairs with which Lieutenant Kell had to provide himself. All through the combined occupation the Continental Powers endeavoured to enable their officers to present a good appearance among the other nationalities. The Germans were especially generous in the pay and allowances they gave to the commissioned ranks of their expeditionary force.