Part 4 (2/2)

”Column resumed its advance on both banks of the river. Three Chinese field-guns observed moving in the direction of Peitsang. Sounds of heavy firing in the direction of Tientsin again heard all the morning.

Natives report it is General Nieh fighting Boxers.

”8.15, large body of cavalry seen on our left flank which were at first taken for Russians; but a sh.e.l.l pitched unpleasantly near our flanking parties from the left of the village the cavalry had just pa.s.sed, convinced us that they must be Nieh's cavalry. Our guns were soon in action, replying to the enemy's fire, and the rattle of musketry became general.”

It was the mistaking this large body of enemy cavalry for a relieving force of Cossacks that nearly cost Jellicoe his life. The Chinese Cavalry was hailed, and replied with a volley. Jellicoe rallied his men and boldly charged them.

He helped clear them out, but fell shot in the chest. Mr. Whittall made the following brief entry in his diary at the time:

”Flag-captain Jellicoe, _Centurion_, dangerously wounded in the chest; feared mortally. Lieutenant Bamber, also of the _Centurion_, and Mids.h.i.+pman Burke also both wounded. The enemy's fire throughout the day was also terrific, and for the most part fairly well aimed.”

He pays a high compliment to Captain Jellicoe, for he says that it was owing to the splendid way in which the British troops were handled that the casualties were no heavier than they were.

The response of the men was splendid, and their behaviour under a terrific fire excellent.

But Mr. Whittall acknowledges that ”it was a shocking business.”

CHAPTER VI

THE SPIRIT OF DRAKE

In a recent issue of the _Pall Mall Gazette_ Mr. Whittall paints a very good pen portrait of Captain Jellicoe at this time.

”It was to him that I was referred for permission to accompany the relieving force, and I can see him now as he put a few terse, direct questions to me before granting the required permit. A man below middle height, alert, with that in the calm, grey eyes which spoke of decision and a serene confidence in himself, not the confidence of the over-sure, but that of the real leader of men. A man whose features would have been unpleasantly hard but for the lurking humour of the eyes and for certain humorous lines about a mouth that on occasion could take the likeness of a steel trap. A man to trust instinctively and one to like from the beginning. Those were my first impressions of him as he stood that June morning watching the troop trains discharge their freights on to a dusty North China platform. Later when I came to know him he inspired me with the same feeling of affection with which he was regarded by every one with whom he had occasion to come into close contact. There was, and is, the magnetism about the man which stamps the personality of him who is indeed a commander rather than one who commands.”

Mr. Whittall was with him after he was wounded and while the allied forces were retiring on Tientsin. What Jellicoe must have suffered then no one will ever know. He was first of all placed for safety in a native house and later on moved into a small native boat. His wound must have pained him terribly. His case was considered hopeless, as the bullet had reached one of his lungs and recovery seemed impossible. Moreover, he knew that now Pekin would not be relieved; the mission had failed.

But his superb vitality pulled him through. He would not go under.

Mr. Whittall describes how he sent for him and asked to be told how things were progressing. ”Foolishly perhaps,” says Mr. Whittall, ”I tried to make the best of affairs and said that I thought we should cut our way back to Tientsin or even to the coast if the foreign settlements had fallen.

”I don't think I shall ever forget the contemptuous flash of the eyes he turned on me, or the impatient remark:

”'Tell me the truth. Don't lie.'

”I had thought to lessen the anxiety I knew he must have been feeling, but if I had known him as I learnt to do later on, I should have told him the plain truth straight out. He thanked me and, indicating his wounded shoulder with his eyes, remarked:

”'Hard luck just now!'”

Captain Jellicoe, as all the world knows, completely recovered and has, we believe, lived to fight the battle of his life, the battle of the world. Nevertheless the doctors told him at the time that he would never regain the use of his left arm.

It would have been rather remarkable if this false prophecy had come true; it could scarcely have made any difference to his career--for Jellicoe was _the_ man and he was bound to reach his present position no matter the obstacles in his way--but the loss of his arm would have added yet another remarkable point of resemblance to the hero of Trafalgar.

And it may not be out of place here to give a story, which is almost a creed with many sailors and their folk in the South of England: the story so beautifully told by Alfred Noyes in his poem ”The Admiral's Ghost.”

This is what the simple Devons.h.i.+re sea folk will tell you when Jellicoe's name is mentioned--if you have gained their confidence.

They do not talk about it to strangers; it has become a faith with them and is sacred.

<script>