Wed. Ap 30. Dearest Father. There is a Russian mail out tomorrow so I must send a word by it. Peking [Beijing] continues to be most entertaining. On Monday morning I went out photographing early and fell in with the biggest funeral procession known coming down one of the main streets. It was a mile long I should think. Troops and troops of banner bearers and pole bearers and people beating gongs and carrying huge sedan chairs and dragons made out of fir branches - fir trees, possibly, for they train their growing trees even more skilfully that the Japanese. Perhaps there were to burn that the dead man might have them where he was going - I daresay a Chinaman would find a few dragons come in handy in the next world. It was impossible to photograph from the street in the crowd of people, so I went to a shop and intimated by signs that I wished to go up to the roof to take pictures. The kind gnomes were all smiles, tumbled over one another in their haste to show me a remarkably dark ladder by which I might climb up and stood round with eager, but most polite, interest while I photographed. It would be impossible to imagine better manners than theirs - when they are not boxing. It was most charming, the procession. Their processions look just like something on a seven coloured vase of the best period - as if they had stepped out of the China into the dusty streets of Peking. White robed mourners - who imperfectly understood their functions, for they cracked jokes all the way as they went - threw up from time to time handfuls of white paper disks for which the people scrabbled. I signed to them to throw some up in front of me and they laughed and tossed a cloud into the air. It was the day of the full moon, which is an important occasion, so after lunch H [Hugo] and I went off to see a big fair that was being held in one of the streets. Unfortunately it had clouded over and a dust storm began accompanied by the usual few drops of rain, so there wasn't much to see. We went however to a big temple outside the E. wall which was crowded with people buying and selling and saying their prayers. There is a bronze mule in that temple which if you go and touch on a certain day you are free of all pain for the whole year. But as I never have any pain anyway, I thought I would just as soon not stroke him, though my boy was very anxious that I should. We dined that night with the Cockburns. Dr Morrison [see also Morison] was there among other people and he took me in. Everyone, I needn't tell you, is agog over the Russian claim on Manchuria. Dr M. thinks Japan will fight; he says she ought to fight now, every year makes Russia stronger, already she can carry 20,000 men a day on her railway etc. He has always thought that 1903 would be the year of the great struggle out here: "I hurried back on purpose for it" he said. It's awfully interesting, but I wonder if Japan will fight - and I doubt. The Cockburns are pleasant people. She had just married and had been out here 6 weeks when the siege began and her baby was born a few months after. Tuesday was a most delicious day, fresh and dustless after the rain, quite clear, a bright sun and snow on the distant hills. We went out to the Yellow Lama Temple outside the north wall, miles away. It's a beautiful place, courts and courts of yellow pavilions, but the Lamas seemed to be all out for we scarcely saw any. There's rather an interesting 17th century marble monument to a Dalai Lama who came from Thibet [Tibet] and died here under very suspicious circumstances. His body was carried back to Thibet but his clothes are buried here under most imposing arches and spires, all carved with the history of his life in low relief. The Japanese troops, not liking Dalai Lamas, broke off the heads of all the figures in the carvings. Then we went to see the famous great Bell - it's the third largest in the world. On our way we skirted along a huge mound of mud which makes an angle just here and turns down to the city. It is part of the enclosing wall of Marco Polo's time, for the Cambalee of the Great Khans was even bigger than the Peking of today. I believe it is to be traced on the S side a mile beyond the present walls. The Great Bell Temple, said our boy, "belong 4 devils." I didn't see any of them and I can't tell you anything more about them, for the rest of his statements were most confusing. But it's nice to think of a temple to 4 devils. I went to tea with the Russells who have come back from an expedition to the hills and were most friendly, as they always are. This morning, Wed, it was again delicious. I went to see the Examination Hall, an astonishing place. It consists of acres of little passages of tiny cells in which the unfortunate candidates sat to write their papers - they are so small that a large Chinaman must have been considerably cramped in one of them. But they can endure anything. Everything is ruined, half the walls fallen down, and the roofs knocked in. Then I went to see the Observatory from which the Germans carried off the famous astronomical instruments - all ruined too. So I rickshawed along the top of the wall, which was very delightful, and went out by an eastern gate to see the Altar of the Sun, a charming place set in pine trees with blue irises growing in masses between the paving stones. We lunched with the Russells. Prince Mirsky, of the Russian Legation (very agreeable) and Mr Kidstone were there. It was blowing a furious dust storm, in spite of which Mr Kidstone and I went shopping together after, in a modest way, and were vastly amused. He's an excellent shopper. The Russells took me to a garden party at Sir Robert Hart's. My host was most kind and I'm going in to photograph him tomorrow. But he is extrordinarily unlike anything you would expect, a little feeble old man with a straggly beard, anecdotal, ramolli - I'm only judging hastily by his outside. Everything he had was destroyed in the siege - except the suit of clothes he was wearing, by its appearance! - so that the house is quite bare. He has been 50 years in China and 25 without revisiting England - and that's what he looks like. A Chinese band was playing - he had trained it himself and was very proud of it. I walked round the garden (which was not looking its best in a duststorm) and talked to Mr Townley. He thinks Japan won't fight - that seems to be the general opinion, but you'll know before you get this. It's quite possible the Russells' journey across Siberia may be stopped for anyway the Russians are probably sending troops as hard as they can.
Goodbye - how nice it will be to have news of you again! Ever your affectionate daughter Gertrude

This is interesting: Dubail did not know of the Russian note till Mr Townley told him he had seen it! The Russians assured the French they had made no conditions at all till they were confronted with the English revelations. Then they admitted. Entre amis - ! so much for the Russo French alliance.