04 Peking Nightmares (The Earl’s Other Son Series, #4) Read online




  The Earl’s Other Son Series

  BOOK FOUR

  Peking Nightmares

  ANDREW WAREHAM

  Digital edition published in 2019 by

  The Electronic Book Company

  A New York Times Best-seller

  Listed Publisher

  www.theelectronicbookcompany.com

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  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This ebook contains detailed research material, combined with the author's own subjective opinions, which are open to debate. Any offence caused to persons either living or dead is purely unintentional. Factual references may include or present the author's own interpretation, based on research and study.

  Peking Nightmares

  Copyright © 2019 by Andrew Wareham

  All Rights Reserved

  Contents:

  Introduction

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  By the Same Author

  Introduction

  Peking Nightmares: In the final book of the series, Magnus and his men are sent north to help put down the deadly Boxer Rebellion. The atrocities he witnessed when the Boxers were finally defeated appalled him. Later in the book he received news from Britain that would change his life forever.

  Best read in series order

  Chapter One

  Editor’s Note: This book was written, produced and edited in the UK where some of the spellings, punctuation and word usage vary slightly from U.S. English.

  The Earl’s Other Son Series

  Peking Nightmares

  Obelisk and Brave tied up to the pontoons on the Bund, the crew, officers and men alike, silent as they watched Magnus walk to the brow and then wait for Captain Hawkins to join him from Brave. The pair strolled off to the Senior Naval Officer’s cabin side by side, making a show of comradeship.

  There was none of the ebullience that normally accompanied homecoming after a successful action. The men had watched the destroyer run down and drown the score or so of survivors in the water as King Yuan sank. They had heard the official word that Brave had been trying to turn away and did not believe it. The drowned men had only been Chinese, many of them agreed, but even so, the Navy did not kill survivors – it was not right.

  They would say nothing – or not for years, they might suffer in their consciences as old men and open their mouths then – for the Navy did not advertise its shame. They were not pleased. Most wanted nothing more than to get ashore and wipe the whole episode clean with too much beer followed by a night in the brothels, which were plentiful in Shanghai. A few were more upset, although not sufficiently to cause their mouths to flap.

  Lieutenant Knowles was one of those who considered himself to be little more than an accessory to murder. He had been silent, withdrawn, on the return voyage. He had almost decided to send in his papers, to resign his commission, and to seek work in Shanghai. He had already discovered that the great hongs were always short of senior Englishmen, and would have a place for a naval officer who wanted to earn a living wage rather than the pittance paid by the Navy. He would no longer be a gentleman, perhaps, but he would have clean hands and far more money.

  The trouble was, there was a war almost upon them. The Boxers were up and the Navy would be into them within a very few days. To resign now would smack of cowardice. He must play his part in the coming unpleasantness - and do it well. There would be a better paid job for a man who came out from the fighting with a good name, and, besides, he, like most Victorian officers, had never fought in a war. He had not trained and practised for years to miss this one, the first since the Crimea, apart from the ongoing shambles in South Africa. This would be the Navy’s war - there were no soldiers available other than the Wei-Hai-Wei Chinese Battalion, who would no doubt be present and would be expected to match the sepoys who had been their inspiration.

  Knowles would fight, but he was finished with the Navy after that. He wondered how his captain felt.

  Magnus was sickened by the whole business and had no hesitation in informing Captain Hawkins that his actions – for Magnus had no doubt he had given the orders – were tantamount to murder.

  “I shall not open my mouth, sir – how could I, being an accessory?”

  “Exactly. What needs doing must be done, Eskdale. No choice in the business. The Empire comes first. What’s a few dead Chinks compared to the Empire on which the sun never sets, eh? You need to cultivate a sense of proportion in this business, my boy!”

  “Sorry, sir. I only have a sense of right and wrong.”

  “Pity! Still, we agreed the Trade is not for you, Eskdale. I’ll see to it that you’re looked after when this Boxer affair is dealt with. For the while, you know what to say.”

  “Of course, sir. Nothing.”

  Captain Parker listened and then read the copy of the official report, forwarded to him as a courtesy as a ship under his command had been used.

  “You intercepted an old French cruiser sailing under the false name of King Yuan. On challenging her, she fired her main armament and Brave and Obelisk responded with torpedoes and guns and sank her with all hands. Obelisk suffered no casualties while Brave lost the three men of a gun crew. Brave will require a dockyard for repairs.”

  “That is correct, Captain Parker.”

  “Then there is no more to be said other than to regret the loss of good men. I shall send in my report of Obelisk’s actions, sir. That will be to the force gathering in the Gulf of Pechihli, gentlemen. The whole of the China Station is gathering there. My latest orders from Admiral Seymour demand that all ships in Shanghai, other than one nominated to aid the gunboat on river patrol, will join the fleet. We are to carry any experienced volunteers in addition to our full complements and as many bodies as can be released from duty onshore here. I presume you will send Brave to Hong Kong, sir?”

  “No choice, Captain Parker. Too much damaged and with men and a gun lost; she needs the dockyard. Damned revolving Hotchkiss gun – one pound explosive shells made a mess of the gun and the plating as well as the men. The new destroyers in the building need a tougher skin than the existing twenty-six knotters. Five inch guns would be useful as well. Four inchers are too light. Bigger torpedoes would make sense. Twenty-one inch rather than eighteen. Don’t learn these things except bloodily!”

  Captain Parker made no bones about noting Hawkins’ comments for his own use.

  “That will go into my reports as well, sir. The more people say the same thing, the better. What was your opinion, Lord Eskdale?”

  “We need fast protected cruisers, sir. Oil-fired and good for twenty-five knots at least. Six six inchers in twin turrets; a dozen of half-inch Maxims and pompoms; four or even eight of torpedo tubes, twenty-one inch. Besides that, I would recommend very light cruisers – or heavy destroyers, whichever – to carry a pair of five inchers and as many Maxims as can be fitted aboard as well as four tubes an
d to make at least thirty knots, preferably more. In flotillas, sir, one cruiser to protect five or six destroyers from gunboats and to attack enemy destroyers as well.”

  “Oil-fired and expensive, Eskdale.”

  “Cheaper than battleships, sir, and far more useful.”

  “Possibly, but the Admiralty will not accept that. Big battleships with big guns, that is all Their Lordships want.”

  “A pity, sir. Thing is, battleships cost so much that they cannot be lost – the politicians will weep at so much money going to the seabed. They will make the Navy too cautious, sir. Flotillas of fast, small ships will win the next war at sea, sir. Battleships won’t.”

  “Stay in China, Eskdale. Say those words in London and they will cost you your career. How long before you can sail?”

  “Coal; ammunition; rations; water, sir. Twenty-four hours at most.”

  “Good. You will sail in company with the sloops, all except Beagle which is to remain on the River with the gunboat, which is too ancient to go to sea. You can take one officer, a mid and no more than ten men from Beagle. There will be a detachment of Volunteers from Shanghai as well – how many, I do not know. Make the best speed the sloops can maintain. You will be senior officer.”

  “Sir. I shall call all commanding officers together tomorrow morning.”

  “Do that. Sleep off your ship tonight – you won’t be back here for some little time. Don’t know how many of these Boxers there may be, but the missionaries who have managed to come in are talking of millions. That’s an exaggeration, but there’s more than a few of them and all reported to be converging on Peking.”

  “Plenty for all of us, sir. No need to ration them.”

  They laughed, mildly amused.

  “What’s the word from your father, my love? Has Blantyres heard just what is going on? Are these Boxers all they seem or are they cover for the Dowager Empress’ plans?”

  Ellen could not answer him – there a great cloud of obfuscation, of deliberate refusal to permit the truth to be given out in China. None of the parties involved - the Qing, the hongs, the English and Germans particularly – wanted the simple truth to be revealed. In any case, they did not know it themselves.

  “We cannot tell, husband. We have not the slightest inkling of the reality of northern China. As always, there is a plethora of informers but no two of them can agree. The Boxers are to an extent a popular movement – that is a certainty. The peasantry in the north and west of China is at starvation point due to the drought and there is a belief that the old gods are unhappy and can best be placated by libations of foreign blood. The missionaries are a target for the peasants’ ire – and not entirely unjustifiably so. But on top of that, over and above, one might say, the Qing see a chance to regain power, to both expel the foreigners and to put down their own unruly warlords. Cutting across is another motivation, that of the reformers who believe they can use the Boxers to get rid of the Qing and introduce modern government to China; many of the better generals truly wish to bring their country into the modern world, which will mean expelling the foreigners, especially the Japanese. Simultaneously, there is a fourth factor, that of the provincial warlords who wish to increase their autonomy and to conquer their immediate neighbours while the country is in chaos. Finally, and not to be disregarded, there are the foreigners – us especially – who are in the process of expanding our commercial and political empires in China and to whom the Boxers are a godsend. If the Boxers or the Chinese army break the power of the Qing, then the foreigners may step into the power vacuum resulting.”

  Magnus sat back and tried to assimilate the conflicting set of theses his lady offered.

  “All simultaneous, you say. Five separate and autonomous sets of actors on the Chinese stage, fighting each other and all comers for the chance to create the China they want?”

  She shook her head.

  “Too positive an outlook, sir! They are more concerned to destroy the China they don’t want and in the process do harm to the most disliked foreigners.”

  Entirely negative then; Magnus seized upon the point that puzzled him most.

  “Are some foreigners disliked less than others?”

  “Oh, most definitely, sir! The Americans are generally viewed as less harmful than the rest. The Japanese are hated by all Chinese of every party – but that animosity goes back for centuries. The Russians are feared, for having a reputation for irrational brutality, while the Germans are disliked for being unwilling to pay proper bribes. The French are detested for their willingness to kill whole villages in response to the least provocation.”

  “The French seem to keep to the policies they practiced at the beginning of the century in Spain.”

  She nodded, having read her history.

  “That leaves us, Ellen. What is the feeling of the Chinese for the Empire?”

  “Distrust. They know of India and are aware that those who cooperate may make their fortunes. Many of the merchants here in Shanghai are Indians, Parsees especially, and they are very rich. The Chinese also know that the gun and whip will come out for any who offer the least resistance to the Queen’s forces. The Chinese of Hong Kong are generally better off than their compatriots elsewhere in the country, but they do not have to like being regarded as inferiors by the sahibs. They will take the chance to kill a good few of the British while they can, do not doubt that, Magnus. We are not loved as a race – though there are individuals for whom they have respect and affection, Sir Robert Hart as an example.”

  “No gain in calling out ‘Don’t shoot, I’m British’?”

  “None at all, sir! There might be a substantial profit in offering a future reward for an alliance, however. We do have a reputation for keeping our word.”

  “So we should! No excuse for telling lies!”

  They ate their dinner and retired, with many a joke about Ellen’s size and its limitation of other activities.

  Breakfast was a quiet meal, both aware that they would not be together at the table for some months, possibly a year and more.

  “My father tells me that Admiral Seymour believes the whole business can be dealt with in two weeks, Magnus. A daring stroke will so discomfit the Boxers that they will flee into the agricultural depths of the country and be seen no more. So the admiral says.”

  Magnus listened to her words, and to what she did not say.

  “Your father does not agree?”

  “The plan is for an expeditionary force to progress up the railway line from Taku to Tientsin and then the seventy or so miles to Peking. The availability of rolling stock says five or six trains and no more than three thousand men…”

  “To make a lightning strike against a million Boxers and perhaps fifty thousand of trained soldiers of the Qing’s forces.”

  “Exactly.”

  They considered that particular bolt of lightning.

  “At absolute most a thousand of sailors from the fleet. To obtain three thousand will demand a mass of German, Russian, American, and Japanese tars. I doubt the French will make any great contribution.”

  “There will be some Italians, I think. There are Italian ships present with the fleet at Pechihli. Perhaps some Austrians as well.”

  “Not easily commanded, so heterogeneous a mass. Not all of them with modern repeating rifles and smokeless powder. The Chinese regular troops are equipped with the most modern of weaponry, sold to them very recently.”

  Magnus stood from the table, started the slow and reluctant process of farewell.

  “Keep me informed of all the latest rumours, my love. I suspect that we shall hear very little in the fleet. Look after yourself – keep well. I wish I could be here with you, but I must go. We are to sail inside two hours.”

  “Well, Mr Knowles, what is the latest on our flotilla?”

  “We are joined by two merchant steamers, sir. Empire Dawn is a storeship and Yangtse Dreamer is carrying one hundred of volunteer riflemen and fifty of seamen from the base facilities here, si
r.”

  “Storemen, provosts and general layabouts who have graced a shore posting these past twenty years, I have no doubt, Mr Knowles.”

  “Yes, sir. I saw them trail aboard an hour ago – a more woebegone mob I have never set my eyes on, sir! Distinguished mainly by the size of their beer bellies and their flat feet, carrying rifles that were almost too heavy for them to lift. The volunteers were all keen and youthful, sir, off to defeat the Boxers single-handed, but the sailors were no more than a bad joke!”

  “Then we must be sure to have the last laugh on them, Mr Knowles. What speed can the flotilla make?”

  “Eight knots, sir. The old sloops are very slow, as you know, sir. I have pencilled in Gannet to lead us out, sir, followed by the other two sloops and then the merchantmen, ourselves and the destroyer Fearless to bring up the rear.”

  “Make it so, Mr Knowles. We are ready in all respects to sail, I presume?”

  “Fully, sir. Took on ammunition overnight, sir; the yard not best pleased at working after sundown but just surviving the strain. All men aboard, sir, except the postman. Two pieces of private mail on your desk, sir. Both from London.”

  That was unusual, Magnus thought; he would have expected all correspondence to be addressed to the house. Presumably the letters were of a business nature, from those who did not know his shore location.

  “Sailing in seventy-five minutes, Mr Knowles?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Very good. Call me five minutes before sailing time.”

  Magnus went below, happy to show confidence in Knowles.

  He called for coffee and sat to his desk, opening the letters.

  The family lawyers were an old firm of solicitors-at-law, very staid and of impeccable reputation. They regretted that the Earl was not at all well and that they had applied for power of attorney from the High Court to manage his affairs. Lord Eskdale was to be assured that his interests were fully protected and that attempts which had been made to sell the unentailed family estates and expend monies invested in Consols had been brought to nothing.

 

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