href="@public@vhost@g@gutenberg@html@files@49121@[email protected]#frontispiece" tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}a">Frontispiece

French Cavalry Orderly with Despatches Facing Page 11 Transports on the Pei-Ho " 21 The Great Wall surrounding the Outer City     of Pekin " 57 Chen-Mun Gate to Pekin " 73 The Temple of Heaven " 79 Marble Bridge over Moat before Southern     Gate of the Forbidden City " 85 The Big Tower or Wall Entrance of Tartar City " 103 The Executive Palace of the Emperor in     the Forbidden City " 145 An Imperial Palace " 167 Priceless Porcelains and Bronzes in the     Third Palace, Forbidden City " 181 The Mouth of the Pei-Ho " 202 Chinese Village Carts, the only Vehicle used         in the North of China " 230 Non-commissioned Officers and Men of     French Artillery and Marines " 235 Chinese Peasants cultivating Rice Fields     with Native Plow " 246 The Lake and Southern View of Summer Palace " 275

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I
THE ARRIVAL IN THE YELLOW SEA

Very early morning, on a calm sea and under a starry sky. A light on the eastern horizon shows that day is about to break, yet it is still night. The air is soft and moist.—Is it the summer of the North, or the winter of a warm climate? Nothing in sight on any side, no land, no light, no sail, no indication of any place—just a marine solitude in ideal weather and in the mystery of the wavering dawn.

Like a leviathan which conceals itself in order to surprise, the big iron-clad advances silently with determined slowness, its engines barely revolving.

It has just covered five thousand miles almost without pausing to breathe, constantly making forty-eight turns of the screw to a minute, accomplishing without stopping and without damage of any sort, and without much wear and tear of its substantial machinery, the longest journey, at the highest rate of sustained speed, that a monster of its size has ever undertaken, thus defeating in this important test ships reputed to be faster, and which at first sight might be thought superior in speed.

This morning it has arrived at the end of its journey, it is about to reach a part of the world whose name but yesterday was unknown, but toward which the eyes of Europe are now turning. This sea, where the morning light is calmly breaking, is the Yellow Sea, it is the gulf of Petchili, from which one reaches Pekin. An immense fighting squadron must already be assembled very near us, although as yet nothing indicates its vicinity.

We have been two or three days crossing this Yellow Sea in beautiful September weather. Yesterday and the day before, junks with sails of matting have crossed our route, on their way to Corea; shores and islands more or less distant have appeared, but at the present moment the entire circle of the horizon is empty.

Since midnight we have been moving slowly, in order that our expected arrival in the midst of this fleet of ships—which is to be attended with obligatory military pomp—should not take place at too early an hour.

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Five o'clock. Out of the semi-obscurity sounds the music of the reveille, the gay trumpeting, which each morning arouses the sailors. It is earlier than usual, so that there may be ample time to perform the toilet of the iron-clad, which has lost some of its freshness during forty-five days at sea. We still see nothing but empty space, and yet the lookout, from his post aloft, reports black smoke on the horizon. This small cloud of coal smoke, which from below looks like nothing, betokens a formidable presence; it is produced by great steel ships, it is the breath of this unprecedented squadron which we are about to join.

Before the ship's toilet comes that of the crew. Barefooted and bare-chested, the sailors splash in the water in the dawning light. In spite of continual hard work, they are no more tired than the ship that carries them. The Redoutable is, of all the ships that departed so suddenly, the only