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CHAPTER V

RAMBLES IN PEKIN

WHEN the treachery of the EmpressDowager and the mad fanaticism of the Chinese ringed in the Legations with a circle of fire and steel, all the world trembled at the danger of the besieged Europeans. When Pekin fell and relief came, the heroism of the garrison was lauded through every nation. But few heard of a still more gallant and desperate defence which took place at the same time and in the same city-when a few priests and a handful of marines in the Peitan, the Roman Catholic cathedral of Pekin, long held at bay innumerable hordes of assailants. Well deserved as was the praise bestowed on the defenders of the Legations, their case was never so desperate as that of the missionaries, nuns, and converts penned up in the church and schools. On the Peitan fell the first shock of fanatical attack; no armistice gave rest to its weary garrison, and to it relief came last of all. For over two months, with twenty French and eleven Italian marines, the heroic Archbishop, Monseigneur Favrier, and his priests-all honour to them!-held an almost impossible position against overwhelming numbers.

The enceinte of the defence comprised the cathedral, the residences of the priests, the schools, and the convent, and contained within its straggling precincts, besides the nuns and the missionaries, over 3,000 converts-men, women, and children. The buildings were riddled with shot and shell. Twice mines were exploded within the defences and tore away large portions of the protecting wall, besides killing or wounding hundreds.

The Chinese occupied houses within a few yards of the cathedral, and on one occasion brought a gun up within forty paces of its central door. A few rounds would have laid the way open to the stormers. All hope seemed lost; when the dauntless old Archbishop led out ten marines in a desperate sally, drove off the assailants, and, capturing the gun, dragged it back within the church. A heroic priest volunteered to try to pierce the environing hordes of besiegers and seek aid from the Legations, not knowing that they, too, were in deadly peril. In disguise he stole out secretly from the defences, and was never heard of again. One shudders to think what his fate must have been. It is still a mystery. Under a pitiless close-range fire the marines and priests, worthy of their gallant leader, stood at their posts day and night and drove back the mad rushes of the assailants. Heedless of death, the nuns bore water, food, and ammunition to the defenders, nursed the wounded and sick, and soothed the

alarm of the Chinese women and children in their care. Disease and starvation added their grim terrors to the horrors of the situation.

Desirous of seeing the scene of this heroic defence, I set out one day to visit the cathedral in company with some officers of the Fusiliers and of my own regiment. The ground being dry, we chose rickshas for our vehicles in preference to Pekin carts, which are as uncomfortable a form of conveyance as any I know. Our coolies ran us along at a good pace, for the Pekinese ricksha-men are exceedingly energetic; indeed, the Chinaman is the best worker I have ever seen, with the possible exception of the Corean boatmen at Chemulpo. The Hong Kong dock labourers are a model that the same class in England would never copy. One day in Dublin I watched three men raising a small paving-sett a few inches square from the roadway. Two held the points of crowbars under it while the third leisurely scratched at the surrounding earth with a pickaxe, pausing frequently to wipe his heated brow and remark that "hard work is not aisy, begob!" I wondered what a Chinaman would have said if he had seen that sight.

Close to the Peitan we found ourselves in a broad street which was being re-made by the French, who had named it "Rue du General Voyron" after their commander-in-chief. In it were many newly-opened cafés and drinking-shops,

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placarded with advertisements of various sorts of European liquors for sale within. Turning off this road into a narrow lane, we suddenly came upon the gate of the Peitan.

The cathedral is a beautiful building of the graceful semi- Gothic type of modern French churches, lightly constructed of white stone. It is crowned by airy pinnacles and looks singularly out of place among the squalid Chinese houses that crowd around it. At first we could not discern any marks of the rough handling it had received, and marvelled at its good preservation. But on approaching closer, we saw that the masonry was chipped and scarred in a thousand places. Scarce a square yard of the front was without a bullet or shell-hole through it. The walls were so thin that the shells had passed through without exploding; and it seemed almost incredible that any being could have remained alive within them during the hellish fire to which they had so evidently been subjected.

We were met at the entrance by Monseigneur Favrier's courteous coadjutor-bishop, who received us most hospitably, took us over the cathedral and round the defences, and explained the incidents of the siege to us. He showed us the enormous hole in the compound and the breach in the wall caused by the explosion of one of the Chinese mines, which had killed and wounded hundreds. The ground everywhere was strewn with large iron

bullets and fragments of shells, fired by the besiegers. The Bishop smiled when we requested permission to carry off a few of these as souvenirs, and remarked with truth that there were enough to suffice for visitors for many years. We inspected with interest the gun captured by the Archbishop. Then, as he spoke no English, and I was the only one of the party who could converse with him in French, he handed us over to the care of an Australian nun, who proved to be a capital cicerone and depicted the horrors they had undergone much more vividly than our previous guide had done. Her narrative of the sufferings of the brave sisters and the women and children was heartrending. Before we left we were fortunate enough to have the honour of being presented to the heroic prelate, whose courage and example had animated the defenders. A burly, strongly built man, with genial and open countenance, Monseigneur Favrier is a splendid specimen of the Church Militant and reminded one of the old-time bishops, who, clad in armour, had led their flocks to war, and fought in the forefront of battles in the Middle Ages. His bravery was equalled by his modesty, for he resolutely declined to be drawn into any account of his exploits during the siege. Long may he flourish! A perfect specimen of the priest of God, the soldier, and the gentleman. As we parted from him we turned to look again on the man so modestly