ON TO PEKIN

OR

Old Glory in China

BY EDWARD STRATEMEYER AUTHOR OF “UNDER DEWEY AT MANILA,” “A YOUNG VOLUNTEER IN CUBA,” “FIGHTING IN CUBAN WATERS,” “UNDER OTIS IN THE PHILIPPINES,” “THE CAMPAIGN OF THE JUNGLE,” “SHIP AND SHORE SERIES,” “BOUND TO SUCCEED SERIES,” “BETWEEN BOER AND BRITON,” ETC.

ILLUSTRATED BY A. B. SHUTE

BOSTON LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.

Copyright, 1900, by Lee and Shepard.

All Rights Reserved.

On to Pekin.

PREFACE

“On to Pekin” relates the adventures of a young lieutenant of the regulars, who is sent from Manila to Taku, China, to participate in the campaign of the allied forces of the United States, England, France, Germany, Austria, Italy, Russia, and Japan against the Chinese order of the Boxers and those government troops of the Province of Shantung who aided in the great rebellion against all foreigners.

In the story are related, first, the bombardment of the Taku forts and the capturing of Taku and Tongku; next the history of the ill-fated expedition under Vice-Admiral Seymour, R.N., to relieve Pekin, and the bombardment and capture of Tien-Tsin; and, lastly, that bold dash of the Internationals for Pekin and the relief of the consuls, missionaries, and other foreigners who had been besieged for fifty-six days.

It may be that some of my readers will think Gilbert Pennington an unusually clever officer, and one quite young to be occupying the position of lieutenant[iv] of the regulars. But it must be remembered that Gilbert had served in Cuba with the Rough Riders, and in the Philippines under General MacArthur and General Lawton, and that he took to army service as naturally as a duck takes to water. He was one of those soldiers of whom Grant declared, “They are born, those fellows, not made.”

The campaign in China has been as short as it was brilliant; and, with Earl Li Hung Chang and others empowered to treat for peace upon almost any terms, it is to be hoped that a permanent settlement will be made, which will insure both foreigners and China against all further trouble. War, at its best, is a terrible thing; and the less our country has of it, the better it will be for our people.

Once more thanking my young friends for the interest they have shown in my previous stories, I place this volume in their hands, trusting they will find its perusal both pleasurable and full of profit.

EDWARD STRATEMEYER.

Newark, N.J., Oct. 4, 1900.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

ON TO PEKIN

CHAPTER I INTRODUCING THE YOUNG LIEUTENANT

“I say, Lieutenant Pennington, have you heard the news?”

“That depends upon what the news is, major. Do you mean that we are ordered back to Manila?”

“I mean a good deal more than that, lieutenant. We are ordered to China.”

“China!” And Lieutenant Gilbert Pennington, formerly of the volunteers and now of the regulars stationed on the island of Luzon, leaped up from the camp stool upon which he had been sitting, and gazed at his old friend, Major Morris, as if he had not heard aright. “Who told you such a fairy tale as that?”

[2]“It’s the truth, Pennington. I got it direct from the colonel. We are to proceed to Manila without delay, and there take the Logan or some other transport direct for China.”

“And what are we going to do in China? Has Uncle Sam declared war on the heathen?”

“Hardly that, I imagine. But you know the missionaries and other foreigners are having a lot of trouble with the Boxers, as they are called; and I reckon our government wants some soldiers on hand in case matters get worse.”

“Yes, I’ve heard about the Boxers, although I don’t exactly know what they are.”

“They call themselves a band of Patriots, but in reality they are a secret society having for its object the extermination of all foreigners in the Celestial Kingdom. They are the worst cut-throats in China, so I have been told.”

“Well, this is certainly news,” mused Gilbert Pennington. “I had an idea that my fighting days were about over for the present. I never dreamed I should be sent away from the Philippines excepting it would be back to the States.”

“I hope the prospect doesn’t displease you,” went[3] on Major Morris, earnestly. “For myself I am thoroughly delighted. I am getting tired of hanging around Tarlac. We haven’t had a brush with the Filipino guerillas for three weeks, and that last engagement didn’t amount to anything.”

“Major, you are a fighting man through and through!” laughed the young lieutenant. “I believe you would rather fight than eat.”

“Hardly that, Pennington; but I must confess to a weakness for an occasional engagement.” The major of the first battalion twisted his mustache meditatively. “Between you and me, privately speaking, I think we have a long, hard campaign before us.”

“I can’t understand it. If the Chinese government isn’t in with the Boxers, why doesn’t it suppress the society, and protect our citizens and the citizens of other nations?”

“That’s the conundrum, lieutenant. I was talking to the colonel about it; and he says his opinion is that the Chinese government, instead of suppressing the Boxers, is secretly aiding them. The Chinese don’t want any foreigners in China, and this outbreak was bound to come sooner or later.”

[4]“If they don’t want any foreigners, why did they allow them in the country in the first place?”

“I presume they didn’t imagine the foreigners would pour in so rapidly, or that they would advocate so many changes in business, religion, and other things. You see, the Chinaman sticks to ancient things, and wants to do just as his father, his grandfather, and his great-grandfather did.”

“Has there been any fighting there yet?”

“I can’t say as to that. But the other nations are hurrying troops to the scene; and, when we get there, we are to form part of an Allied Army, composed of English, German, French, Japanese, and other nations.”

“Then it will be China against the world.”

“That’s about the size of it. If we fight side by side with the other nations, it will be rather a new experience for our troops.”

“Right you are, major.” The young lieutenant gazed doubtfully at his dirty and ragged khaki uniform and the shoes which had been patched until there was hardly any of the original leather left. “But we ought to have new outfits before we go.”

“No doubt General MacArthur will see that we[5] get them. He will want Uncle Sam’s boys to look as well as the soldiers of any other nation.”

“Are any of the volunteers going?”

“Not for the present. But there is no telling how many of the troops will have to go before the trouble in China is over,” concluded Major Morris, as he walked on, to spread the news among his other brother officers.

Gilbert Pennington was a young man of Southern blood who had drifted into the army more because of his intense patriotism than for any desire to become a fighter of men. He was from Richmond, Virginia; and, upon the death of his parents and several near relatives, he had wandered around from one place to another, made a trip to the West Indies, and then gone to New York to settle down in business as a book-keeper.

While in New York, the War with Spain broke out; and along with his intimate friend, Ben Russell, Gilbert joined the volunteer service, and served in Cuba as one of Roosevelt’s Rough Riders, as related in one of my previous books, entitled “A Young Volunteer in Cuba.”

Shortly after his return from Cuba the troubles in[6] the Philippines broke out; and once again Gilbert enlisted, this time in the infantry, and, accompanied by Ben Russell and his brother Larry, journeyed to Luzon, there to serve under Generals Otis and MacArthur and the much-lamented General Lawton. Many of his adventures of those stirring times will be found set forth in “Under Otis in the Philippines” and later volumes of my “Old Glory Series.”

But the rebellion in the Philippines was now practically over, and all the soldiers had to do was to guard against the wandering bands of insurgents who carried on a sort of guerilla warfare whenever the opportunity offered. The season had been a very rainy one, and roads and fields were so covered with water and liquid mud that passage from one district to another was well-nigh impossible. The tiny mountain streams were swollen to rushing torrents, and in many places to bridge them over seemed impossible.

Gilbert had been mustered into the regular service several months before; and, for bravery performed in the capture of the Filipino leader, General Adoz, he had been promoted to the rank of first lieutenant of Company A, of the first battalion. Major Morris had[7] come into the regulars at the same time, and now commanded the battalion, although really holding the rank of captain. To my young readers let me explain that this meant that, while he commanded as a major, he received as yet only the pay of a captain.

The news that his regiment was going to China filled Gilbert with interest, and for several reasons. In the first place, he was rather tired of the Philippines, and had thought more than once that he had made a mistake by joining the regulars instead of embarking for home, as many of his fellow-soldiers had done. He had campaigned in intense heat until ready to faint with exhaustion, and the heavy rains of the wet season had found the camp literally drowned out more than once. He had been shot, and had lain in the hospital for weeks, so it was small wonder that he occasionally sighed for a bit of ordinary life again. Following the flag is not all glory.

But now something new was promised. He was to visit a strange country, and perhaps fight side by side with soldiers from other parts of the world. More than this, he might have a chance to find Mr. Amos Bartlett.

[8]Years previous to the opening of this story, Mr. Amos Bartlett had been in business with Jefferson Pennington, Gilbert’s father. The two had owned several extensive tobacco warehouses in Richmond, and later on had branched out into the tea and coffee trade. The business had grown to such proportions that it was formed into a stock concern called the Richmond Importing Company. At the time the company had been formed, Mr. Pennington had died; and shortly after this Mr. Amos Bartlett had gone to Tien-Tsin, China, to live, taking with him his wife and his little daughter, Jennie.

When it came to a settlement of Jefferson Pennington’s affairs, no satisfactory accounting could be obtained from the Richmond Importing Company, and a lawsuit instituted by Gilbert’s mother fell through for the lack of evidence. Amos Bartlett had been written to, but was down with the fever in Tien-Tsin, and could give no evidence. The men at the head of the newly formed company were sharpers from New Orleans; and in the end Mrs. Pennington had received only two thousand dollars in cash for her stock, while she was fully satisfied in her own mind that the amount due her husband’s[9] estate had been twenty to thirty thousand dollars. She had no other money than that received from the company, and this was not enough to support her for long; and she died two years later, poor and broken-hearted, leaving Gilbert, then a lad of twelve, to the care of an aged aunt, with whom he lived for four years, when he left home to strike out for himself.

Gilbert had often thought to hunt up Mr. Amos Bartlett, and see if something could not be done toward getting the balance of the money due his father’s estate. But China was a long way off; and from some friends he learned that Mr. Bartlett had left Tien-Tsin, and gone into the interior, and that his present whereabouts was unknown. Moreover, the war in Cuba and in the Philippines had driven everything else out of his head, and he had taken matters as they had come.

“But, if I get the chance, I’m going to hunt him up,” said the young lieutenant to himself. “And, if I find him, I’ll make him tell me all about the doings of the Richmond Importing Company or else know the reason why. I’m bound to have that money, if there is any of it coming to me.”

CHAPTER II CLOSE QUARTERS IN THE JUNGLE

“Boys, we leave to-day for Manila.”

It was Captain Banner of Gilbert’s company who spoke, addressing a dozen or more of his command, who were squatting around a camp-fire built near the shelter of an overhanging cliff. Close to the camp-fire were half a dozen rude shacks which the regulars had erected for comfort while stopping in the neighborhood, they preferring the rude huts to their own torn and dilapidated tents.

“Und how soon vos ve goin’ py China, captain?” asked Carl Stummer, a German volunteer who had enlisted in Company A soon after his old friend Gilbert had become lieutenant.

“Just as soon as orders come from headquarters, Stummer. Are you anxious to get on new fighting ground?”

“Vell, captain, I ton’t vos barticularly anxious for new fightin’ ground; but I vos anxious for ground vot ain’t vet a foot deep all der dime,” answered[11] Stummer, with a broad grin. “Last night I dream me I vos in Noah’s ark, und der ark got sunk, und I vent overboard. Ven I vake up, I vos on mine pack in vater most a foot teep.”

“I hope you swam for your life, Carl,” put in Gilbert, while a laugh went up.

“He can’t swim, bedad,” added Dan Casey, an Irish soldier, who had been a friend to Stummer for years. “Don’t ye remimber how Captain Ben Russell—he was only a common sodger thin—hauled him out av the waters av New York Bay, an’ was arristed fer doin’ it, bekase the colonel thought he was afther tryin’ to desert whin he jumped overboard.”

“I vos learn me how to schwim since den,” replied Stummer, gravely. “Of I didn’t learn, I vos drown more as fifty dimes ofer here alretty.” And again a laugh went up.

Tents were to be struck at noon, sharp; and soon the camp was a busy place, as the soldier boys began to gather together their few belongings. Although it was raining lightly, guns had to be cleaned, swords polished, and uniforms brushed up as much as possible.

[12]The news had travelled swiftly that the regiment was ordered to China; and many of the officers and men of other commands close by came in to verify the report, and to say good-by to their friends. Several came to see Gilbert and wish him the best of luck, for he had always been popular.

“I thrust we’ll be afther seein’ Captain Russell in Manila,” said Dan Casey to the young lieutenant. “I wouldn’t loike to go away widout sayin’ him farewell.” Casey and Stummer had both been members of Ben Russell’s company of volunteers before joining the regulars.

“Yes, I hope we do see him, and Larry, too,” answered Gilbert. “I would give a good deal to have the Russells go along.” But this was not to be, as the duty of the Russell boys lay elsewhere.

The colonel of the command was a stickler for military discipline; and promptly at twelve the regiment moved, or at least the two battalions which were located in that neighborhood. The third battalion had gone up in the mountains to the southward, and a special message had been sent to it to rejoin the main command at the earliest opportunity.

[13]The light rain soon gave way to a steady downpour, which threatened to become a deluge before nightfall; and in many spots the soldiers had to leave the road and take to the paddy fields, the thin crust of ground and growth of the one being preferable to the oozy, sticky mud of the other. The caribao carts, piled high with the camping outfit, lumbered along with difficulty; and at every quarter of a mile one or another got stuck, and had to be helped out of its difficulty.

“This is hardly a march to victory, lieutenant,” observed Captain Banner, as he ranged alongside of his second in command.

“I don’t believe any of us will want a bath for a month after this rain stops,” returned Gilbert grimly, “at least, not from the knees up.”

“It is well you qualified your first remark,” said the captain, who was a West Point graduate, a well-read officer, and a first-rate fellow. “From my knees down I feel as if I had been wandering around in an ocean of filthy pitch. It seems to me the natives ought to be able to make bricks of this sticky mud without half trying.”

“We are going to have some fun when we reach[14] the river a mile below here,” put in Major Morris, who had also come up. “Captain Anderson came over last night, and he said it was running at a fearful rate then.”

“And what about that new bridge we worked so hard to put up?” asked the young lieutenant.

“It’s completely swept away. The captain thought the storm had done it, but I think the guerillas helped matters along. They hate us worse than they hate poison.”

“I suppose they reckon we have kept them from a good deal of booty,” said Gilbert. “Well, we have, for a fact.”

The storm now became so violent that conversation could be carried on only with difficulty, and presently the party relapsed into silence. The route step had been ordered at the very start; and all of the regulars were marching to suit themselves, although keeping something of a semblance to a column of fours.

At last the river was gained, and a halt was ordered,—an unnecessary command, since none of the troops could go forward. The stream was running two feet deep over its ordinary banks, and swirling along with[15] the rapidity of a mill-race. It was fully sixty feet wide, and just deep enough in the middle to be dangerous.

As the bridge was gone, it was determined to look for a suitable fording-place, and Gilbert was placed in command of a detachment to ascend the river-bank for that purpose. The course of the soldiers, six in number, lay over a series of rough rocks, and then through a small jungle opening upon an abandoned rice field.

“If the guerillas destroyed that bridge, we want to keep our eyes open,” was Gilbert’s comment to his men, as they scrambled over the rocks, in Indian file. “They don’t travel far in the rain, and they may be close at hand.”

“I dink I see me somepoddy chust ahead!” exclaimed Carl Stummer, in a low voice. He was in the lead of the privates, and carried his rifle, ready for use. “Look!” he cried suddenly.

Gilbert gazed in the direction, and made out several forms; but all disappeared before he could get a good view of them.

“Thim was th’ Dagoes!” cried Dan Casey, using the common soldier’s term for Filipinos. “I wisht I’d[16] got a bead on ’em! I’d a-laid wan of thim low, I’ll bet me nixt wages!”

“To cover!” shouted Gilbert, and pointed to the nearest bit of jungle. The little party ran at once in the direction, but before the shelter of the brush was gained several shots rang out, the bullets clipping the branches of the nearest trees.

The attack came as a surprise; but the young lieutenant was not sorry that the volley had been fired, since it would notify his comrades in arms that something was wrong. Scarcely had the volley ended when Dan Casey fired in return; but, if he hit any one, the enemy gave no sign.

The jungle gained,—it was a small patch less than an acre in extent, facing the river,—Gilbert ordered his men to lie down and keep strict watch on all sides, while he himself moved close to the water’s edge. A sudden idea had popped into his head, and he wished to learn if his surmise was correct.

In order to obtain a clear view of the river, he had to wade into the water overrunning the bank to the depth of a foot and more, in the mean time breaking his way through vines and creepers, which formed a perfect network amid the tropical trees. He advanced[17] as cautiously as he could, and, reaching an opening at last, peeped forth with care.