On 5th of that month a state of great electric tension in air was indicated by our registers. As in India, that condition heralded change in weather, its seasonal recurrence so regular that it is reckoned on to a day. The crews of a Russian gunboat and of an English schooner, frozen up through the winter, at once began the work of preparation for sea. On the 11th the ice suddenly broke up; in massive blocks grating against and rolling over each other, it floated along the stream. Next day, bridges of boats were re-established, ordinary traffic by boat resumed; within a few hours all traces of ice had disappeared. On the 14th the gunboat _Drake_ arrived from Taku, bringing for us thirteen weeks’ letters from home, none having been received while cut off from the world as we had been for so long. Orders were at the same time received directing Mr. Bruce to proceed to Pekin, and our force to remain at Tientsin, pending the manner of reception given to His Excellency at the Imperial capital. By April 6 the temperature rendered the exercise of walking unpleasant. By the middle of June, in the absence of tatties and other Indian appliances, resource was had to large blocks of ice supported over a tub in our apartments; close to and half embracing these we sat, in the airiest of costume, in our endeavours to keep ourselves cool under the circumstances.
Everywhere in and around the city, steps were taken to maintain due observance of respect towards buildings dedicated to purposes of “religion” or philosophy. In the early days of occupation, some of the Asiatics with us treated a few of those buildings in a manner that they would have violently resented if directed against their own in India; but the employment of stringent measures put an end to such demonstrations. In one of those temples, namely that dedicated to “Oceanic Influences,” at a short distance beyond the city walls, the Treaty of Tientsin of 1859 was signed, the ratification of that deed being the actual cause of the present war.
Invited to a Chinese hunting and hawking party, the “meet” to take place at a distance of a few miles from the city, we proceeded to the appointed rendezvous under guidance of men sent for the purpose by our hosts. In early morning of a bitterly cold day in January we started, our steeds, shaggy, unkempt-looking Tartar ponies. Arrived at the appointed ground, several falconers, all on foot, each bearing on his wrist a peregrine, hooded, awaited us; the hounds of the kind known in India as the rampore, all under charge of a mounted whipper-in. All around us a dead flat plain extended, to all appearance interminably, all crops removed, the surface frozen hard, but without snow. Soon the pack was scouring the plain in full chase of an unfortunate hare, the hounds being slipped as the quarry started; the falcons, unhooded, take wing. Away went our ponies at full speed, their pace a run, not a gallop. First one falcon and then another swooped down upon and rolled over the hunted animal; the dogs fast gain upon her; she disappears, for in this forestless region holes in the earth and burrows are so taken advantage of by ground game. A huntsman bares his arm; he reaches into one such opening; the hare is drawn out, crying in its terror like a child; it is dispatched by a blow on the nape. This we are told is “sport.” To some of us it would be more appropriately called barbarous and unmanly cruelty. Further details of what proved to be “a successful day” need not be related.