May 27.
To-day we started off on a long tramp, making first the ascent of Mount Bruce, which was so difficult at times that we could scarcely accomplish it, and had we not had the help of a young house-servant, known to us as “Number Three Boy,” I doubt if we could have reached the summit. The wind whistled round the high peaks of Mount Bruce to such an extent that Mrs. Squiers and I had to hold on to each other to keep from being blown off our feet.
From here we could see the Empress-Dowager’s summer palace and grounds, spread out below us like a toy garden, with its wonderful landscape effects and its series of artificial waterways. Then, perched high up on a mountain, we could see a white temple belonging to the eunuchs of the palace, and reserved solely for their use during the summer months; and to the west the Feng-tai station of the Peking-Paoting-fu Railway, winding through the valleys below us like a piece of grey thread. We then walked through the enclosure of the temple occupied by the Russian Legation, and in passing through a half shrine, half summer-house, most unexpectedly came to a wall upon which was drawn a rough but cleverly executed head of a lovely young girl. It was done in coloured pastels, and had been drawn by some artist diplomat. The subject was the Countess Marguerite Cassini, niece of the Russian Minister, who had been stationed in Peking some years previous. It was a beautiful bit of work, and was especially startling when seen surrounded by the hideous, grinning faces of Buddhist gods.
Heading for our own temple of Linqua Su, we walked miles, keeping to the top of a ridge, where the views were gorgeous and the air wonderful, and quite suddenly came upon a shepherd and his flock. Fancy it, a Chinese shepherd tending his Chinese sheep! His expression was gentler and happier by far than that of men leading a like monotonous existence in the mountains of Switzerland or elsewhere in the West. Could it be that there the shepherd longs to return to the life in the villages, while here the life of the poorest classes in the village communities is so hopeless a struggle that individual members are glad to leave the hopelessness of it and tend their flocks alone upon the mountains? This fascinating China! you have been here, and you know it. I must not bore you with my impressions, for if I attempted such a thing these letters to you would assume the proportions of an encyclopædia.
May 27 (continued).
Mr. Squiers returned to the American Legation this morning. He only gets out to the hills twice a week in time to dine and returns to Peking the following morning. He tells us that the Boxers daily become more daring, but the diplomats and people in general put these things down to the usual spring riots which yearly seize Peking, and are due to hunger and disease, prevalent among the poorer classes after a long, hard winter. Nevertheless, it was deemed wise to inform the Tsung-li Yamen (the Foreign Office) that we were in the hills at the temple of Linqua Su, and would expect official protection from all rioters or malcontents who might be in this region, and a guard of twelve Chinese soldiers was promptly detailed to protect “nos personnes et nos biens.” But such soldiers!—opera-bouffe mannikins in a Broadway theatre would frighten one with their martial air compared to these ridiculous apologies for soldiers, which were sent to us for our protection, their only weapons being dull-pointed rusty spears!
Clara, the German governess, returned from Peking to-day, where she had gone to do some shopping, and tells us that all the natives she passed seemed to be armed, and that in all the temple enclosures companies of Chinese were being drilled.
Our servants, mostly native Christians, assure us that these people are all Boxers, most of them flaunting the red sash, the insignia of that Society, and that they are preparing for a general uprising when the time shall be ripe—an uprising that has for its watchword, “Death and destruction to the foreigner and all his works, and loyal support to the great Ching dynasty.”
May 28.
The peace that settles on one after a long tramp in the mountains was rudely broken up for us a short while after our return from our walk yesterday, when we found ourselves thrown into the midst of a most exciting situation, from which we knew the chances were about even whether we should escape with our lives.