With the Allies to Pekin: A Tale of the Relief of the Legations. Henty George Alfred
am sorry I am not going to return after this term, but my time is up. I have been nearly four years away from my people now, and I shall be glad to be at work.”
“I suppose it is not a bad life out there?”
“Not at all. Of course it is hot, but one is indoors most of the day, and they do all they can to make the houses cool. The office shuts up early. After that one takes a bath and puts on flannels, and goes for a ride or a row on the river. Of course I could not do much that way then, but I have been so much on the water here that it will be much jollier now.”
“I suppose you donʼt have much to do with the Chinese?”
“They work as porters and that sort of thing, but otherwise we do not see much of them. The native town is quite separate from the British portion, and it is not often that Europeans enter it. I expect that they do so even more seldom now, for my fatherʼs last letter tells me that there is a general feeling of disquiet, and that letters from missionaries up the country say the same thing. But our officials at Pekin do not seem to be at all uneasy. My father says that you might as well try to drive a wooden peg into a stone as to get the officials at Pekin to believe anything that they donʼt want to believe. That is one reason why I want to be off as soon as I can, for if things look more serious my father might write and say that I had better stay here for a time to see how matters turn out, and naturally if there is a row I should not like to miss it.”
“It would be very hard,” the other said approvingly, “if there was a row and you were kept out of it. Of course it would be soon over, the Chinese would never stand against European troops.”
“I donʼt suppose they would, Milton; but they are plucky enough in their way, and they are not a bit afraid of death. My uncle says that he hears they have got no end of rifles and guns – good ones, you know; not the old gimcrack ones they used to have.”
“Look how the Japs thrashed them, Bateman.”
“Yes, but it was from no want of pluck on the part of the Chinese. The Japs were well disciplined, while the Chinese had no discipline at all. Besides, what was worse, they had no officers worth anything. All appointments there are given by exams, and as everyone who is not an ass knows, a fellow who is awfully good at books may be no good whatever as a soldier. Look at our sixth form. Why, among the captains and monitors, how many of them would make an officer? Peebles is short–sighted, Johnstone is lame, and there is not one of them who is any good at football or cricket; while many fellows who are not so high would make infinitely better officers. Well, it is like that with everything in China. The great thing there is for a man to acquire what is called a classical style – something the same, you know, as Cicero writes in and Demosthenes talked. The Romans and Greeks were both pretty longheaded, but they never thought of appointing either of these men as generals in the field. Why, look at our head; he is choke–full of learning. Well, if he had lived in China he would have been made either an admiral or a general. Just fancy him with his spectacles, a skull–cap with a peacockʼs feather, and flowing robes, peering vaguely about him on the look–out for an enemy. How can you expect fellows to fight who are officered by men of that sort?”
“But our army is officered by men who have passed exams.”
“Yes, but at any rate the exams for the army are not very difficult, and there is time for them to play as well as work. Still, I know my uncle thinks that it is about the worst way that could have been chosen for the selection of officers, and that in the next war we get into there will be no end of blunders.”
“It is likely enough that there will be; but there is one thing you must remember, and that is that, fortunately, the fellows who ʻmuzʼ at school are not the sort of fellows who go in for army examinations. They go into the church, or to the bar, or as masters in schools, or things of that sort. Look at us here. Lots of the fellows in the cricket and football teams are intended for the army, and I suppose it is the same in other schools, as it is from them that the officers are drawn. I donʼt say that there maynʼt be a few of what you may call the grinders; still, certainly the bulk of them are not the sort of men who would ever set the Thames on fire if it came to only brain work.”
“Have you ever thought of going into the army, Bateman?”
“No, because I have a line ready cut out for me. I think a fellow is a fool who wants to take up a fresh line for himself instead of taking that where he is certain, if he is steady and so on, to do well; and in the next place, when one is an only son, as I am, I think that, even putting aside the question of doing well, it is his duty to help as far as he can to take the burden of the work off his fatherʼs shoulders as he gets on in life.”
“There is no doubt that you are right, Bateman. That is the way to look at it, though it isnʼt everyone who has the sense to do it. As I have got two elder brothers I am free to choose my own line, and shall, if I can pass, go into the army; if not, I shall emigrate. I have got grit and muscle enough to do as well as most fellows in that way, and it seems to me that with good health and spirits it would not be a bad sort of life at all. If I manage to pass we may possibly meet out in China some day. There are rows in that part of the world every few years, and although from all descriptions of the country campaigning there must be unpleasant work, at least it would be a change and an interesting experience.”
“Well, Milton, if you are out there we shall be very likely to meet, for any force going towards Pekin would be sure to pass through Tientsin, and if that were the case I should try to go with it as interpreter. However, I hope there wonʼt be any rows, for though in the treaty towns we should no doubt be all right and the troops would be certain to lick the Chinese, the missionaries all over the country would be certain to have an awful time of it. We should be very anxious about that, because my motherʼs sister married a missionary and is settled a long way up the country.”
“Is your Chinaman going back with you?”
“Yes; I should be awfully sorry to leave him behind. He has been with me as long as I can remember. My uncle only brought him over here in order that I might keep up my Chinese. I am sure that he would go through fire and water for me. It is a good thing to have a man like that, for, putting aside the fact that I like him tremendously, I would trust myself anywhere with him, for he is very strong, and, as he showed when he attacked those two fellows who upset the boat soon after I came here, there is no doubt that he is plucky. I expect he will be very glad to be home again. He has got accustomed to European clothes now, but I have no doubt that he would prefer his own; and then, of course, his family are there, and in China family ties are very strong. Families always stick together, even to distant relations. My uncle says that the population should be counted by families and not by individuals. Of course I did not think of such matters before I came away, but he says that it is like the old Scotch clans: the State deals with the families and not with the different members of it. If a man commits a crime and gets away, the family are held responsible for it, and one of them has to suffer penalties and pays either a large money fine or is executed.”
“That would be very rough on a family that happens to have one scamp among the sons.”
“Yes, I suppose so; but it helps to keep them all straight. A fellow who committed a crime, for which his father or any of his near relations had to suffer, would be considered not only as a disgrace to the family but as a man altogether accursed and beyond the pall of pity whatever fate might befall him. My uncle says crime is very rare in China, and that this is very largely due to the family ties.”
“But there are pirates on the coast and, as I hear, robbers on many of the rivers?”
“Yes; uncle says these men are fellows who have left their native villages and have banded together, so that if they are caught it is never known to what families they belong. They are beheaded, and there is an end of them, and their family never know anything about their case. The Chinese are a very peaceable lot, except that they sometimes get tremendously stirred up, as in the case of the Taiping insurrection. The people hear stories that the foreigners are trying to upset their religion or to take some of the land. Hideous stories go about that they have killed and eaten children or sacrificed them in some terrible way. Then they seem to go mad; they throw down their hoes and take up swords and muskets, if they have them, and