CHAPTER XX
THE BOMBARDMENT OF TIEN-TSIN
The first half of the month of July was a busy time for all the allied forces operating in and around the foreign section of Tien-Tsin.
In round figures the Allies did not number on July 10 more than sixteen thousand effective men. How many Boxers and Chinese government troops there were to oppose them will probably never be known, but they certainly footed up to forty or fifty thousand.
The enemy were located in the walled native city, where they had over fifteen thousand troops and four heavy guns; across the Pei-Ho, where they had several field-pieces, with more coming up every day; and on the great plain to the west of Tien-Tsin, where it was feared that an army was forming so vast that the Allies would be swept out of existence by the mere force of numbers.
The bombardment of the foreigners continued almost night and day; and property to the value of millions of dollars was destroyed, including many ancient and beautiful buildings which can never be replaced. The regular railroad bridge over the Pei-Ho was already gone, and the pontoon bridges erected were subjected to such a constant and accurate fire that to cross any of them involved a great risk. On one of these bridges a Hong Kong English detachment was caught, and almost cut to pieces.
The bombardment called for many deeds of daring; for communications with Taku were kept open only with the utmost difficulty, and the re-enforcements coming up had literally to fight their way through miles of hostile country to reach the real battlefield. All telegraph wires had been cut, and the engineering corps could not repair them until the fall of the native quarter of Tien-Tsin was almost assured.
There was a great rivalry between the English, Russians, and Germans over the control of the railroad; and many were the trials made for opening the line to Tongku, the Chinese ripping up the rails almost as fast as they were put down. Two locomotives were stationed near the battered round-house, and one day some Russian troops went out to man them. The detachment divided into two parts; and, while one engaged the attention of the enemy, the other leaped aboard the engines and several box cars, and went off at the best rate of speed of which the old locomotives were capable. As soon as the Chinese discovered what was up, they trained their guns on the locomotives, and nearly knocked one off the track. Nevertheless, the rolling stock was saved; and to-day the engines are running on the Taku-Tien-Tsin line as before the war.
During the first days of the bombardment the Allies suffered greatly for the want of siege guns. The majority of the troops had come from the Gulf in the notion that they were to march directly upon Pekin, with the guns to follow later on. Only the Japanese had a few small pieces, which could not reach the larger pieces of the Chinese.
But all this was changed with the coming of some British artillery, guns which had done duty in South Africa against the onslaughts of the plucky Boers, and which were appropriately labelled, "From Ladysmith to Pekin." These guns were stationed close to the west wall, where the Chinese artillerists could not see them; and they were aimed by the aid of flag signals from the top of Gordon Hall.
On the morning of July 9 it was felt that the position regarding communications with Taku was growing critical. The Chinese were well planted with their guns on the north bank of the Pei-Ho; and their troops on the western plain were gradually circling southward and to the east, in order to reach the other bank of the stream, thus cutting off the Allies' connection with the outside world.
"Something is up to-day, sure," remarked Captain Banner to Gilbert. "The Chinese are enfilading our twelve-pounders, and the British gunners can't hold their position unless relief is given."
"I see that our marines are getting ready to move," replied the young lieutenant. "I wish we were going with them. I am tired of doing nothing but guard duty."
"Don't fret. We have still plenty of fighting before us," was the captain's reassuring answer.
Early that morning a detachment of the Allies, including a hundred American marines, with two thousand Japanese, English, and Russians, marched to the Taku gate of the outer city, and then down the bank of the Pei-Ho. They soon came in sight of the Chinese force on the plain; and a battle at long range started, lasting for several hours. Gradually the Chinese were forced around to the West Arsenal, and then they fled. They were pursued by the cavalry; and a party of six hundred Boxers were cut to pieces almost to a man, the Japanese horsemen riding over them rough-shod. In this fight the arsenal was captured, also four field-pieces, and over a score of Chinese banners, including the dreaded head-spear flag of the Boxers. A head-spear flag is one of black, mounted on a bamboo pole, topped with a human skull.
Gilbert's company was stationed close to the river still, and was under more or less fire all the time. The pickets often indulged in "sniping," as it is termed; and many a Boxer who exposed himself was laid low most unexpectedly. But the Cliinese also did some sharpshooting; and the soldiers soon found it expedient to keep out of sight of the enemy, even at long range.
The weather was most disagreeable. When it was not raining, the sun shone down with the fury of a fiery furnace; and, during the middle of the day, working at anything was out of the question for all but the Japanese, who never seemed to mind the heat in the least. What these little men from the Mikado's domain could do and endure was a constant source of wonder and astonishment to the rest of the Allies. "They are the backbone of this whole movement," said Gilbert; and Major Morris agreed with him.
"They used to jeer at the Japanese, just as they jeer at the Chinese," said the major. "But Mr. Jap is all there every time."
It was not until several days later that Gilbert managed to get away, in order to call again upon Amos Bartlett and his family. He had heard of a serious fire in that neighborhood, and wondered if it had reached the tea-merchant's residence.
He found the house untouched, although in much disorder, with the wreck of the back porch and the fallen tree still littering the enclosed garden. The fire had found the huge warehouse; and a back addition had been consumed, while the contents of the main building had suffered much from smoke and water.
"I am glad to see you, lieutenant," said Mrs. Bartlett, as she shook him by the hand. "You said you would do what you could for us, and now I wish you to do me a favor."
"Anything I can do, I'll do willingly," was Gilbert's prompt reply. "But how is your husband?"
At once the smile that had come into Mrs. Bartlett's face for a moment faded away. "He is not doing so well," she said lowly. "He does not seem to be able to get back to his right mind. And the fire has set him back, too."
"What does the doctor say?"
"He says it is a peculiar case, and that my husband must have rest as much as medicine. But how can he have rest here?" And the woman wrung her hands.
Jennie Bartlett now appeared, and also shook hands. She said her father had heard Gilbert's voice, and wished the young officer to come to him.
"Be careful of what you say to him," whispered Mrs. Bartlett. "He is easily excited, and excitement is the worst possible thing for him."
"I will be careful," answered Gilbert, and followed her into the sick-chamber. He found Amos Bartlett lying on a wide bed in the centre of the room, and the Chinese servant was fanning him. The sufferer looked years older than when Gilbert had seen him before.
"So it is you, Pennington?" said Amos Bartlett, in a strangely unnatural voice. "I am glad to see you. I have been wanting to talk over that Importing Company's affair with you. We have millions at stake, and—"
"Amos, please do not speak of that now," interposed Mrs. Bartlett, soothingly. "I am sure Lieutenant Pennington will wait until you are better."
"Yes; but, Viola, Ramsey Polk is a black-hearted swindler. He would ruin us all, sweep away our millions, and leave us beggars. And the fire, too! We shall be penniless, starving in the streets! Pennington can save us. I have thought it all over. He must fight a duel with Polk; and, being a soldier, he can easily run his man through. And then—ah, then we will be saved! Is it not an easy plan, Pennington?" And the sufferer turned his white and haggard face to the young Southerner.
Gilbert started, for he had not anticipated such a turn of affairs. Clearly, Amos Bartlett was out of his head, perhaps on the verge of insanity. What should he do? He looked at the sorrowful faces of the wife and the daughter, and that decided him.
"Mr. Bartlett, everything is all right," he said, as he took the sick man's hand and held it. "Ramsey Polk will be brought to justice without my staining my hands with his blood. He cannot touch what belongs to you, and what is coming to me will soon be in my possession. So you can afford to take it easy, and not bother your head about these matters."
At these words Amos Bartlett stared again at Gilbert. Then his eyes fell. "You are sure of this? Sure he cannot make me a beggar?" he muttered.
"Yes, I am sure."
"And that fire? The warehouse was full of valuable tea. They will not let me get up to see how much damage was done."
"The main warehouse was not touched, so your loss will not be heavy. Just take it easy for a week or so, and everything will straighten itself out. I have got Polk where I want him, and I know what I am doing."
"Thank you, Pennington. You are a wonderful young man. And we shall not be beggars! I am so thankful, for the sake of my wife and Jennie!" And here the sufferer fell back exhausted, closed his eyes, and went off into a doze.
Mrs. Bartlett motioned Gilbert out of the room; and he followed her, on tiptoes. "Is it not awful?" she burst out, when the door was closed behind them. "What shall I do? What can I do?"
"I don't know of anything, excepting to keep him quiet. Has he been this way long?"
"Ever since the fire. Every shot near the house seems to affect him."
"Then he ought to be removed from Tien-Tsin."
"But would that be safe? I understand every boat coming or going on the river is under fire."
"That is true. But I think this bombardment will soon come to an end. More of our troops are arriving, and we will soon make an attack on the native city in force. Once we have cleaned out that section, I think the whole Chinese army will retreat toward Pekin."
"I trust the relief comes soon," put in Jennie. "This cannon-firing day after day is enough to drive one mad! And to have poor papa down sick—" Her throat choked up, and she could not go on.
Gilbert was affected, but did not dare to show it. "I am sorry. I will do what I can for you," he murmured, and gave her a look which meant a good deal. Then he turned to the mother. "What favor did you wish of me?"
"I wanted you to ask at the consulate for a marine or two to guard the warehouse. Ever since the fire the looters have been out in force, and I am afraid that what was not burned will be stolen."
"I will do what I can in the matter. And is that all?"
"I wished to find out about getting to Taku. If the bombardment grows worse, we cannot remain here."
"Would you care to remove to Gordon Hall?"
"If my husband was not sick, I would go. But that would be no place for him; and the hospital would be still worse. If we could get him down the river in secret, that would be best of all."
"Then I will find out for you when the next large boat goes down to Taku, and what the chances will be of getting through without harm."
"If you will do that, lieutenant, I shall be very glad," said Mrs. Bartlett. And then she added in a lower voice, "I am sorry that you, too, are disappointed."
"How do you know I am disappointed?"
"You were in hopes that my husband was better, and could give you more information about Ramsey Polk. Is that not so?"
"To tell the truth, it is. But—well, we will drop that now, and hope everything comes out right in the end."
The Bartletts wished Gilbert to wait and have some refreshments; but his time was limited, and he soon took his departure. As he hurried back to camp, he fell into a brown study.
"Matters don't look as bright as they did," he soliloquized. "Even if Mr. Bartlett gets well physically, his mind may be affected; and in that case his evidence in my favor won't count. And, if he gets down to Taku and Nuggy Polk finds him, that rascal will probably do all he can to worry the poor man to death."