We were compelled by circumstances to remain a few days at Shanghai, and almost every hour begat new rumours. Sunday itself was no day of rest for the Spirit of Conjecture; she was busier than ever, and whether on the Bund or on the concession road, where everybody met all the world and his wife and family, the speculations were numerous and important. Only the ugly Amas (Chinese "ayahs"), and their usually pale European charges, were exempted from the general discussions. The Chinese, too, were quite quiet, but also perfectly alive to the situation. Those of the settlers who played lawn tennis or other games, or cycled,—as most of the "foreign" men did,—paused to discuss late events on the grounds, or on the Marine Parade. The Chinese drove, or perhaps walked, but did not "go in for games" as the "foreign devils" do; it is better, they think, to pay people to do all this to amuse them.
The steamer quitted Shanghai, and made her way into the Yellow Sea, which is beautifully blue, and derives its name from the Ho, or Yellow River. Near the land it is more muddy, but steaming at sea through the ocean depths the water is blue as an Italian sky. We made our way up to Taku, or Tien Tsin, the well-known port of Northern China. We passed close by Yung Cheng, and rounded Wei-hai-Wei, passed the islands, and steamed through the Gulf of Pechili to Taku at the mouth of the Pei-Ho.
I was very much interested in this place because a cousin of mine had been engaged in the expedition against the Taku forts in 1859, and I recollect my admiration when my cousin returned with some beautiful Chinese robes, and other articles, which he had purchased, or found, in Pekin after the capture of the capital. These spoils still exist in the possession of my cousin's family.
While embarking Chinese soldiers for Corea, we heard many reports of the Chinese fleet, the attack of Japanese in Seul, and such intelligence, which confirmed my captain in his impression that war had already virtually been declared, and that the struggle would be fought out by sea and land, between China and Japan, in the Yellow Sea and in Corea. So he made haste to embark the soldiers,—some twelve hundred men with twelve guns,—and, when they were settled on board, the steamer followed the other transports, of which nine had already sailed. There were two other English steamers employed in the service, but we didn't think that any fuss would ensue, because we trusted to the "red ensign."
"Well, Julius," said the mate to me, when we had crossed the bar at Taku, "here we are on service."
"Yes," I replied; "but it is only transport service. There will be no fighting. We can't fight, and no one will harm a British ship."
"Let us wait till we reach Corea. When we reach Asan, and land the troops, we shall be able to sing 'Rule Britannia.'"
"What do you mean?" I asked, looking at the mate intently in the dim light. "There is no danger, is there?"
"I suppose you know that the Japanese warships are out in this sea, and they expect to meet some Chinese vessels?"
"But we're not Chinese; we're English."