The advance of the allies, indeed, was like a triumphal march; for we reached the rear of the Taku Forts on the night of the 20th August and took the formidable works by storm on the following morning, putting the defenders to flight and revenging our bloody defeat a year and two months after that tragic event.
The English and French forces then pursued their victorious march towards Tientsin, with the intention of penetrating to the capital of the emperor, should their just demands not be conceded without any further delay, as well as a heavy indemnity paid for the expense we had been put to by the evasions and treachery of the Manchurian monarch; but, I am not able to speak of my own knowledge of the further progress of the expedition after they had blown up the old forts and thrown open the entrance to the Peiho.
An adventure happened to me, which not only prevented me from sharing in the campaign, but very nearly put a stop to any possibility of my ever telling this yarn.
This adventure I will now relate. As soon as the obstructions across the mouth of the river, which had previously foiled us, had been removed by working parties of sailors from the fleet, several gunboats went up to Tientsin by water to make provision for the arrival of the main body who were marching thither by land; and, amongst other officers of the Candahar, Ned Anstruther and I were detailed for this duty, proceeding to the port in question with a battery of artillery and military stores, which we had to see to the landing of near the close of the month.
Ned and I were glad of the outing, besides escaping from the routine of the ship, and when we got to Tientsin we strolled about having a look round at the queer-looking shops and shanties, the like of which we had never seen before.
Presently we got to some tea-gardens, where a funny old man, with a yellow hat and a pigtail the size of a small hawser, accosted us.
By signs he invited us to enter a rather nice-looking building, built just like one of those little pagodas resembling card-houses that you see in the right-hand corner of a willow-pattern plate.
“What a rum old joker!” exclaimed Ned, as the old fellow came up to us. “Chin, chin, Johnny, what you wantchee, no stoppee can do.”
I laughed at Ned’s “pijin English,” which the Chinaman evidently did not understand: but he bowed courteously and smiled very amiably, throwing open the door of the card-house in such a pressingly hospitable way all the while that I could not stand out any longer.
“Hang it all, Ned!” said I, “let us go in. An old chap like that can’t do us any harm; and, besides, we’ve got the cutter’s crew within hail!”