The remainder of that day, and the whole of the next, were spent in complete rest. After the events of the last week, it seemed difficult to realise that anything out of the ordinary was afoot. There was no shelling, no attack on the outposts—in fact nothing but the everlasting sniping during the hours of darkness, which merely ensured the watchfulness of the sentries. Women were again seen about the streets, and a few little children walked about with the air of supreme indifference to their strange surroundings. Every one knew that this was only a lull before the storm of the bombardment, and another siege; but it was felt that the worst was over, and that the Chinese blockade would never again be as effective as heretofore. Relievers and relieved met and exchanged experiences at the bar of the German club, which was still open, and of which all officers became honorary members. Dinner parties were given by the lucky ones whose stores of tinned luxuries had not already vanished, it being rightly held that it was well to make the most of the impromptu truce, which existed only that the Chinese might collect enough morale to again assume the offensive. In the evening the “Terrible” 12-pr. came in, escorted by a small body of the Hong-Kong regiment, who arrived at the relieving force’s last camp only a few hours after the commencement of the advance. This regiment is composed almost entirely of Pathans, who were enlisted in India for service at Hong-Kong. Their arrival at this stage of the operations enabled them to claim to be the first Indian troops on the spot; but as a matter of fact there were twelve Sikh policemen in Tientsin, who all volunteered for military service, and took part in the recent defence.
On the 24th June a native runner got through from the Commander-in-Chief, and his news was to the effect that the Admiral was in Hsi-Ku arsenal, hard pressed, and with many wounded. He requested a force of 2000 men to extricate him. This message was more cheering than many had dared to hope for. Nearly every one had given the Admiral’s party up for lost, the best that they had hoped for being that he might be shut up in Pekin with his force, and in all probability be undergoing the same kind of mental anxiety that had lately befallen themselves. However, Hsi-Ku was only six miles away, and it was believed to be a defensive position of great strength. A force of the required strength was immediately raised and organised, it was composed as follows: Russians 1000, with three Maxims and two guns; British 600, with two Maxims; and 300 Americans, Germans, Japanese, and Italians, making the total within a hundred of 2000. Colonel Shirinsky, a Russian officer of some distinction, was in command of the whole force, and he decided that the various contingents should rendezvous at his camp at midnight, intending to make a night march and attack the enemy, who were expected to offer a stern opposition at dawn. In the evening the 12-pr. and a 6-pr. shelled the western arsenal, known as the Hi-Kuan-Su, and set it on fire, several unimportant explosions taking place in consequence of the proximity of houses containing ammunition. The departure of the column took place from the town hall at 11.15 p.m., and was quite affecting, the British moving off first, amid feminine cheers and cries of “Good luck,” “Mind you bring him back,” closely followed by the Americans.
Some difficulty was experienced in crossing the river, for the bridge, which the Russians had promised to have ready, was not nearly finished, and it proved to be a risky business getting over the half planked-in junks in the darkness. Another delay was caused on the other side by the stupidity and carelessness of the guide, who lost his way at the very beginning of the march, and took some time to correct his mistake. However, the rendezvous was reached about 1 a.m., and fortunately the Russians had themselves only just taken up their positions. From their camp the rays of the gunboats’ searchlights were plainly visible in the mouth of the river thirty miles away, and a bluejacket remarked laughing, that it showed fellow-feeling “for them chaps to try and light us on our way.” In a quarter of an hour the combined force moved forward, and for about a mile and a half skirted the mud wall, when they turned off into the country in the supposed direction of the bridge over the Lutai Canal. After marching in this direction for some time without finding it, it became evident something was wrong, so a halt was called, and the Russian colonel sent out a reconnaissance party to ascertain its whereabouts. It turned out that it had been passed unnoticed on the left flank, and was about half a mile in rear of the force, so the men had to retrace their steps. But on reaching it, it was found to have been made almost impassable for infantry, and it was soon evident that the Russian guns would have to remain behind; in fact there were grave doubts about the practicability of getting even the Maxims over. Search parties immediately moved up and down the canal banks, and returned with two sampans, which solved the difficulty of the men’s passage, and it was found that the two together were capable of transporting the Maxims also. The Russian sappers, too, helped to replace planks and sleepers on the wrecked iron frames of the bridge itself, and the passage did not occupy more than an hour altogether. It was not, however, effected quite peaceably, for the force was spotted by two of the little land forts near the river, about two miles away, and these promptly opened fire on the bridge with four guns. Their shooting, however, was high, and the shrapnel were bursting in a cemetery to the rear. If the Chinese had known this they would have probably ceased firing, as the spirits of their ancestors are nearly sacred to them. As it was, such ancestral spirits as were in that cemetery must have rested uneasily that morning, and bemoaned their fate at this unlooked for visitation of the “great north wind,” or some other similar fantasy.
An interesting incident happened when the crossing was about half finished. The torpedo lieutenant of H.M.S. “Endymion” rode towards the forts to find out if possible something about the strength and position of the enemy, when suddenly some twenty Chinamen fired at him from behind cover at a distance of not more than 30 yards. Their nerves, however, must have been in a wretched condition, for he was not even touched, and the only thing for him to do seemed to be to ride straight at them, which he did, whereupon they straightway bolted, leaving one man a prisoner in his hands.
Here of course was a fund of information ready to hand, but there was no interpreter nearer than the main body, now some 600 yards away behind a massive embankment. Accordingly this young officer made it clear to his prisoner in a way that naval officers can do, even without an interpreter, that he wished him to run by his stirrup or take the consequences, and then started to canter slowly back. But the Chinese who had fled recovered from their fright, and proceeded to open fire on him as he retired. For some minutes there was no result, when suddenly they managed to hit their comrade, who fell shot through the leg, the officer safely regaining shelter under a brisk fire. The wounded Chinaman after this, one can imagine, did not hold the prowess of his fellow soldiers in much respect, and who can blame him. War is sufficiently exciting at all times, without any necessity for being shot by one’s friends, to render it more so.
When the whole column had crossed the canal, the men rested under cover of the railway embankment, while the Russian scouts reconnoitred the country ahead. No reply was made either to the enemy’s shell fire or to their now pretty heavy musketry fire, both of which were harmless to our perfectly invisible companies; but the two Russian guns, which had to remain behind, were ordered to find a position from which to knock out some of the hostile guns. After a short “stand easy,” the scouts returned with the news that the road was open, with the exception of a strong body of cavalry, who were slowly retiring about 2 miles away. Advancing about 300 yards further, the head of the column came to a gap in the embankment which exposed it to a warm fire. The Russians crossed first, the British next, and then the Germans and Americans. There were several casualties, but surprisingly few considering the range—only some 500 yards. Another half mile and the cover again came to an end, the British arriving at the dried-up river bed just in time to see the final retreat of the Chinese cavalry, and to hear stentorian cheers from the Russians, who had discovered that the cluster of trees on the plain on the left front was no other than our lost Admiral’s position. This was indeed good news. Some excitement was caused by the appearance of seven Chinese mounted scouts in an osier bed on the left, who, however, on being discovered, galloped safely off with the exception of one man, who together with his horse was shot after an enormous expenditure of ammunition. On leaving the river bed the force marched in five long lines towards the arsenal, the intervals between the men being about five paces. The Chinese gunners, who had expended a quantity of ammunition with no effect whatever, now entirely failed to grasp the situation, and instead of shelling the necessarily large target in the open plain, proceeded to turn their guns on to Seymour’s arsenal with some result. In a few minutes, however, the British, German, and Italian ensigns were plainly distinguishable, and it became apparent that the least half of the relieving party’s arduous mission, that of reaching the besieged Admiral, was practically accomplished. By ten o’clock the two forces were exchanging cheers across the river to the accompaniment of segment shell from the Chinese, and five minutes later the commanding officers of the various contingents were conversing with their Nationals among the besieged force, while the commanding officers of the two columns were already arranging for the withdrawal.
Meetings such as these are rather overpowering, there is so much to be said, such a lot of hand-shaking, which is all the worse because of the amount of real pleasure put into the grip, and such numbers of friends to be congratulated, that the conversation rarely gets beyond “Hallo, old man. Awfully glad you’re still going,” from the reliever; and from the relieved, “Thanks, old chap, very pleased to see you; but I say, have you got a cigarette on you? I’ve not had a smoke for days!” And having lighted up, they proceed, by some tacit understanding, to discuss any other subject in the world except the past and future slaying of Chinamen. It had been hoped to get back to Tientsin before dusk, but this was found to be out of the question, owing to the lack of transport for the wounded, and other difficulties which could not be overcome on the spur of the moment; so it was decided to commence the retirement at 2.30 a.m. next morning.
It was soon seen that, although the enemy had allowed the relieving column to arrive almost without opposition, they were not going to allow the Europeans to effect all the necessary preparations for their coming departure, without making themselves as objectionable as possible. The arsenal was shelled without ceasing by the hostile guns in the land forts and native city, and at eleven o’clock a hitherto unnoticed force commenced a most harassing long-range fire from a position on the railway embankment. An attempt was made to dislodge them by Maxim fire, and with this object three Russian Maxims each deliberately fired a long belt of ammunition without stopping, at an invisible object about 2000 yards away, needless to say without having the desired effect. So a mixed force, mostly British, were sent out to dislodge the intruders, which was promptly done. Unfortunately there were several casualties among the Russians and the Royal Welsh Fusiliers, who had to advance across half a mile of perfectly flat plain before the Chinese took themselves off. After this, strong pickets were posted all along the railway line, and the work of making a pontoon bridge, to allow the passage of the wounded, was quietly proceeded with.
In the meantime the Russian Colonel sent back word that he desired a force should be sent out if possible to keep the country open on the other side of the canal, to minimise the risk of being attacked on the return march on the morrow. Not only was this done, but our 12-pr. in Tientsin succeeded in silencing two guns which, it was seen, might harass the retirement. The effect of this was excellent. While the wounded were being conveyed across the river to be put under the friendly shelter of an enclosed graveyard close by, other parties were shelling the surrounding villages and forts, in order to ensure a quiet night from sniping; while yet a third party under the gunnery Lieutenant of H.M.S. “Centurion” were making plans for the demolition of the arsenal on leaving. It was decided to destroy everything, even the valuable guns and ammunition, because the fighting force would only be the same size as it was on the day of the relief, and it would have to protect a large convoy. Nearly the whole of the Admiral’s party were needed to carry the stretchers, and so, although armed, were scarcely to be considered as fighting men on that occasion. As it became gradually dark more pickets were sent out, those on the railway embankment were strengthened, and as the whole of the wounded had crossed the river, the men began to make themselves as snug as possible for the night. It proved to be one of the most indescribably comfortless nights that it is possible to imagine. The sky was filled with a dull red glare from the immense numbers of burning houses; and this sight, with the monotonous sounds of howling curs, and distant gun fire, was so uncanny as to arouse all the superstition in one’s mind. In addition to this it was very damp and very cold, and as the men of the relieving column had not even their blankets with them, they suffered severely from the chill night air, and the miasma which rose in mists from the tainted river. The weirdness and the personal discomfort in fact were so great, that another possible reason for the restlessness which prevailed need hardly be taken into consideration. But there were very few there that night who did not expect that the Chinese would attack the camp in force before morning; and, indeed, it says but little for their general’s military knowledge and initiative, that they should have let pass such a chance of attacking so comparatively small a force, which was in the open, and much hampered with wounded. Interesting as it would be to assign to them a reason for this and similar disastrous errors of judgment, it is outside the pretension of this little sketch to do so, though it would be most instructive to talk over this and other events of the campaign with an intelligent and truthful Chinese staff officer.
After this weird and restless night, at 2.30 a.m. the camp was roused, and the men were allowed to light their fires and brew their cocoa. There was no need for secrecy—the Chinese knew our position and intentions perfectly already, and the plain was soon alight with camp fires around which clustered the damp and shivering men. The arrangements as to the stretchers and carriers worked without a hitch, and at 3 a.m. the retirement commenced. Two officers belonging to H.M.S. “Centurion” stayed behind to start the fires, which it was hoped would entirely destroy the immense stores of ammunition and small arms, unfortunately but necessarily to be left. This somewhat hazardous duty was successfully performed, and before dawn broke, the column saw huge clouds of smoke rising from the Arsenal, which had proved to be Seymour’s salvation. Fires had been lit in five different places, and, from the apparent fierceness of the conflagration, it seemed as though its destruction must have been complete. We now know, however, that this was not quite the case; the heavy-gun ammunition and the field guns having escaped.
The march to Tientsin proved to be extremely tiring and tedious, the men of the Admiral’s force being naturally unable to keep up any great pace in their wretched condition, and with their comrades to carry. When the retirement started, most of the stretchers had a looted rifle or two beside the occupant, but very few of them ever got into Tientsin; the only thing of interest which was kept being one of the new captured Maxims, which has since been given to the officers and men of H.M.S. “Endymion.” Had fighting not been expected, of course the men of the relieving column would probably have dragged back some of the many useful guns from the arsenal; but under the circumstances it would have been inadvisable to add to the impediments of the already heavily encumbered force. The order of march was as follows: The advance guard of Russians, several hundred yards ahead of any one, then another strong body of the relieving force, next came the long straggling line of stretchers with the sick and wounded, round which were the “reliefs” for the carriers, and last of all came the rear-guard, composed entirely of British and Americans. The convoy moved at a snail’s pace, and it was seven o’clock before the bridge over the canal was reached. Here was evidence that the Russian sappers had been busy; for the bridge, which had only been roughly repaired on the previous crossing, now presented a thoroughly mended and passable appearance. From here, too, the settlement had been kept clear of any disturbing element by the Russians from Tientsin, so that all anxiety ceased at this point, and once more the allies were able to marvel at the extraordinary mixture of acuteness and imbecility which the Chinese leaders possessed in such a marked degree.
A shorter, and not so circuitous, route was taken on the return journey, and the badly battered station was reached about 11 a.m. Once again the force was within easy range of hostile guns, but so demoralised were the enemy at the allies’ run of success, that they preferred to sulk behind their city walls, rather than renew the attack.
The enthusiasm among the Europeans was immense, and both columns were cheered to the echo; the excitement only abating as it became apparent that heavy losses had been suffered by the Admiral’s force. On the whole, the inhabitants had reason to be much more gay than sad, for during the last three days the garrison had been trebled, the place itself and Seymour’s column, had both been rescued from exceptionally tight corners, and the Chinese had tasted the bitter humiliation which follows defeat. From another aspect the outlook was not so bright. Nearly all the Admiral’s men were in sore need of a prolonged rest, which was evident from the way the men collapsed, now that the strain was over. Collapse is perhaps rather too strong a word; what is meant is that, whereas before, the men had scorned to utter complaint, they now felt it a duty to themselves to consult the doctor about the stomachic complaints from which they were nearly all suffering, and which had been brought on by precarious food supply, and the impure water which they had been compelled to drink. In addition to this, there were many more mouths to feed, a matter not to be lightly dismissed from mind at that time; and lastly, the Chinese would be able to concentrate their whole efforts on the capture of the settlements, without having two large forces employed; one in trying to keep out the relief force, the other in endeavouring to overwhelm the Admiral.
Sir Edward Seymour was now the senior officer in Tientsin, and took over the command of the place. Affairs in Tientsin since the relief force had started, had not been altogether devoid of interest. The Commissioner of Customs had received a note from Sir Robert Hart to say that the Legations had been commanded to leave Pekin in twenty-four hours, and the letter was dated the 19th. This very naturally caused the greatest alarm about the persons of the Ministers and the Legation Guards; for after Seymour’s experiences, every one knew what the order meant. If the command had been obeyed it simply spelt disaster, for once outside the city walls an army of 30,000 men would have slain them to a man! Another item of interest had been the arrival of a further detachment of the Chinese regiment. A fine, well set up, smart body of men, who seemed to have about as much objection to slaying their brother Chinese, as had the rest of the Allies, who were by this time getting rather bitterly disposed. A few shells were fired into the settlement towards evening, and it was noticed that the rifling of one of the heaviest was getting worn, for his projectiles used to turn over and over, making a most weird noise as they did so. But even these idiosyncrasies were insufficiently alarming to drive away sleep from the weary men of Seymour’s column.