Besides this outpost, the American, Russian, German, Japanese, and French legations also were held, as was the Hôtel de Pékin of M. Charnot and his brave American wife. It was strongly fortified with sand-bags, and sent out to its guests, who had taken refuge in the British Legation, three meals a day with unbroken regularity during the siege. A large portion of Legation Street also was included within the foreign lines. On it stood a grain-shop, in which were found eight thousand bushels of wheat and several tons of rice, together with eleven one-mule mills, ready for grinding. As there were in all some three thousand persons to be fed, this food supply proved invaluable.
At first an Austrian captain, named Thomann, by virtue of seniority, assumed command of the defending force; but on the second day of the siege, he having proved himself incapable, the supreme command was, by unanimous consent, given to Sir Claude Macdonald, the British minister. Captain Thomann was killed a few weeks later during an attack on the Su Yamen, and now one of the streets of Pekin bears his name.
Under Sir Claude's intelligent supervision all the details of housing and feeding three thousand people, of preparing and placing fifty thousand sand-bags, of hospital and sanitary arrangements, and a thousand other things, were quickly systematized and placed in the hands of carefully selected committees. The work of fortifying the legations was given over to a young American missionary engineer, while the actual duty of defence was distributed according to nationality.
The British Legation compound, including the northwest angle of the whole line, was left to the resident inmates—ministers, attachés, missionaries, etc. The Su Yamen and northeast angle were intrusted to the Japanese, aided by Italians and Austrians. At the southeast angle were French and Germans, the latter occupying a section of the great city wall, from which, however, they ultimately were driven. On the southwest were the Americans and Russians, in their own legations, with the former holding their own section of city wall. This position, in spite of continuous shelling and repeated assaults, was held by American marines to the end; and, commanding, as it did, the entire legation area, it proved the key to the situation.
On the 1st of July, or after ten days of siege, during which time the Chinese fire of rifle-bullets, solid shot, and shell had been maintained almost without intermission from one quarter or another, thirty-five of the defenders had been killed and nearly twice that number were in the hospital. The Germans had been driven from their section of the wall, the French Legation had been destroyed, and several sorties, made for the purpose of capturing or at least silencing certain particularly annoying Chinese guns, had proved unsuccessful. In all this time no news had been received, nor had it proved possible to send any out; and it was not probable that the desperate plight of the Pekin legations was even known to the outside world.
The bright spots in this gloom were that there still was plenty to eat and to drink within the lines, the defences were constantly being strengthened by additional sand-bags, which the ladies and Chinese women were turning out by the thousand, the plucky Japanese still held the Su Yamen, and American marines still maintained their position on the wall. Also, very early in the siege the latter, dragging their Colt's automatic gun up to their elevated post, had made a raid along the top of the wall for a quarter of a mile, driving the Kwang-su troops in wild confusion before them, and mowing them down by hundreds.
Now, however, the Chinese, profiting by this sad experience, had advanced a series of brick and sandbag approaches, against which the Colt proved ineffective. At the end of the last one the Chinese had erected a small tower, only a few feet from the American barricade, and commanding it. From this, while protected against a return fire, they hurled down huge bricks upon the defenders, who were unable to reply. At the same time the American position, isolated since the Germans on the east had been driven from their wall, was exposed to a galling fire from both directions. The situation thus had become critical in the extreme; for, if the Chinese could succeed in forcing this position, the legations would lie at their mercy.
The top of the wall at this point was reached from the inside by two ramps, or sloping walks, that led upward like the two legs of a letter A. One of these was controlled by the Americans, whose barricades were at its upper end, while the other was in possession of the Chinese.
From the outset Rob Hinckley had cast his lot with the American marines, largely on account of his liking for Turner, the sharp-shooter, whose acquaintance he had made on that first memorable day of the siege. On the morning of July 3d these two had come down from the danger post for a much-needed rest after a forty-eight-hour tour of duty on the wall. At sunset they were to return to the almost untenable barricades. In the mean time, they slept like logs until late in the afternoon, when they were awakened to partake of a meal of cold boiled mule "beef," rice, hard bread, and tea.
"Look here, young man," said Turner, pausing for a moment in his hearty eating, "I don't see why you should go up on that old rockery again to-night. You ain't 'listed, and don't have to."