Meanwhile the Japanese engineers were resolutely and industriously pushing their saps ever closer up to the Russian forts, in the progress of which task the most furious and sanguinary hand-to-hand fighting with bayonet and bomb was of daily, nay hourly, occurrence. The slaughter was appalling, few of the combatants on either side surviving such encounters.
Yet, although the advantages were all on the side of the defenders, the patience and heroism of the Japanese steadily told, and on 4th October they attacked a work at Yenchang, near Takhe Bay, and destroyed the two machine-guns with which it was armed. This success was followed up by the capture, on 16th October, of an immensely strong Russian position on Hashimakayana Hill. Ten days later, the Japanese troops stormed and took, after hours of sanguinary fighting, the two important positions of Erhlung and Sungshushan, on the northern and north-western salients of the old Chinese Wall; and these successes were considered to have cleared the ground for the general assault which had been ordered from headquarters in Japan.
For four days—27th, 28th, 29th, and 30th October—the Russian works were subjected to such a terrific bombardment as, up to then, mortal eyes had certainly never beheld. It reached its height about eight o’clock on the morning of the 30th, and continued until about one o’clock in the afternoon, during which the din was terrific and indescribable. Shell and shrapnel fell upon the Russian works at the rate of one hundred per minute, the forts resembled volcanoes in eruption, from the continuous explosions of the shells which fell upon them, and the entire landscape became veiled in a thick haze of smoke. At one o’clock the preparation was thought to be complete; and ten minutes later the great assault began—to end in complete and disastrous failure! The Russian forts, supposed to have been silenced by those four days of terrific bombardment, were as formidable as ever; and as the stormers dashed forward they were met by so furious a rifle and artillery fire that they were literally annihilated. The second grand assault upon Port Arthur had failed, as completely and tragically as the first!
To have incurred such tremendous losses for such insignificant results was a terribly depressing experience for Japan; but the benumbing effect of the blow began to pass away when, in the first week of November, the news arrived of General Oku’s splendid success upon the Shaho; and with renewed hope, and that indomitable patience and courage which is so marked a feature of Japanese character, the troops before Port Arthur set to work to repair their disasters.
Their first success was achieved in the middle of the month of November, when they gained possession of the little village of Kaokiatun, thus securing the command of Pigeon Bay. This success was followed, on the 23rd of the month, by an attempt on the part of the Japanese to capture the Russian trench on East Kikwan Hill. The attempt resulted in failure, with a loss of some three hundred slain, to say nothing of wounded. This was followed, on the 26th, by an attack upon Q Fort, North Kikwan, Erhlung, and Sungshushan. This too resulted in failure for the Japanese, with awful slaughter; the failure in this case, however, being tempered by the capture of the trench on East Kikwan Hill. This capture was of very great importance to the Japanese, from the fact that it commanded the approach to the fort on the summit of the hill; and the Russians, recognising this fact, fought madly to regain possession of the trench, finally succeeding toward midnight. The fighting on this occasion was most disastrous for the Japanese, their wounded alone totalling over 6000, while it was estimated that in dead their losses must have exceeded 10,000!
The result of all this sanguinary fighting was to convince the Japanese Staff, at last, that the defences on the eastern slope were impregnable to assault, and must be captured by other means. They accordingly next turned their attention to 203 Metre Hill, which was the key to the eastern defences of Port Arthur, and determined to take it by assault.
This was a particularly tough proposition, and after the tremendous losses which Nogi’s army had already suffered in its disastrous assaults upon the eastern defences, the Staff might well have been excused had it hesitated to undertake such a herculean task. For the position was so immensely strong that the Russians regarded it as impregnable. The merely natural difficulties of the adventure were great, for, as its name indicates, it was a lofty hill, with steep, almost precipitous slopes, to scale which, even unopposed, was no light task. But when to this difficulty was added the further one that the hill had two summits, each crowned by very strong earthworks constructed of sand-bags, timber and steel rails, connected by tunnels with bomb-proof works on the rear slope, and that it was further protected by two lines of trenches, themselves protected by strong barbed wire entanglements, and that the works on the summit mounted several machine-guns and some heavier pieces of artillery, the reader may be able to form some slight idea of the obstacles which the Japanese undertook to surmount, as well as the indomitable courage which possessed them to make the attempt.
It must not be supposed, however, that the attack was about to be made on the spur of the moment and without any previous preparation. On the contrary; for two whole months the Japanese had been steadily sapping from the north and north-west, day and night, in face of the most vigorous and determined opposition on the part of the Russians, first constructing a parallel about a hundred yards from the first line of Russian trenches, and, from this parallel, driving saps which pierced the wire entanglements and in two places reached to within fifty yards of the Russian line. And while this was being done, four of the new Japanese 11-inch howitzers concentrated their fire upon the works on the twin summits of the hill.
The assault was ordered for the evening of 27th November. Supported by a heavy bombardment from the howitzers and batteries in their rear, the troops chosen for the assault broke cover and rushed the first line of Russian trenches, bayoneting the occupants almost before the latter had time to open fire upon them. Then followed hand-to-hand fighting of the most ferocious and sanguinary character, which lasted all night. Morning found the assailants still in possession of the trench which had been won; and now, strongly reinforced, the Japanese proceeded to push forward to attack the summit and Akasakayama battery. Immediately, the Russian guns in the neighbouring forts opened fire upon the stormers with shrapnel and heavy shell, and in a very few minutes the entire scene was so completely veiled in powder smoke that it was impossible for anyone to tell exactly how the fight was going. Four times the Japanese stormed the crest and were beaten back; and it was not until three o’clock in the afternoon, when they delivered their fifth assault, that they at last burst through the wire entanglements and reached the crest. For a time they held it; but the Russian fire was too hot for them, and at length they were not only driven off the crest but also out of the trench which they had won on the previous night.
The attack was resumed the next day, and again resulted in failure.
Then the Japanese Staff put its foot down and declared that both hills must be taken, at all costs! The cruisers Sai-yen and Akagi were ordered round to Pigeon Bay to co-operate with the troops by covering the assault with their fire; but, unfortunately, as the Sai-yen was getting into position on the 30th, she struck a mine and sank, not far from where the old Hei-yen disappeared some two months earlier. This put an end to the plan for naval assistance, and the land forces were obliged to rely entirely upon themselves. Fighting of the most desperate and sanguinary character proceeded all through the afternoon and night of 30th November, but it was not until the next day that the indomitable courage and persistence of the Japanese were rewarded with success; the western summit of 203 Metre Hill being taken by them and held all day, despite the most desperate efforts on the part of the Russians to retake it.
This was the beginning of the end, so far as Port Arthur was concerned. On 5th December the eastern summit of the hill also fell into the hands of the Japanese, and next day they secured possession of Akasakayama, thus obtaining command of the entire Metre range.
These important positions in their possession, the tide of war at once turned in favour o
f the Japanese, for the heights commanded not only the town but the harbour of Port Arthur; and the big 11-inch howitzers, as well as a battery of naval 6-inch and 47-inch guns, were at once brought up, and the bombardment of the Russian warships was begun. On 6th December the Poltava was sunk by the Russians to save her from destruction by the Japanese fire. Next day the Retvisan met a like fate, while a fire broke out aboard the Peresviet, and on the 8th she and the Pobieda were at the bottom of the harbour, while the Pallada was obviously following them. On the following day the Bayan was hit no less than twenty-two times, bursting into flame shortly before noon and burning until shortly after four o’clock in the afternoon, while the Sevastopol was seriously damaged. The mine-laying ship Amur was also hit and sunk. The dockyard sustained serious damage, yet, strangely enough, all through this bombardment the Russians did little by way of reply; they seemed overwhelmed and paralysed at the misfortunes which were now befalling them—or else, as some of us began to shrewdly suspect, their ammunition was at last exhausted. On the 9th of the month the Sevastopol—the only Russian battleship still remaining afloat in the harbour—moved from her moorings and sought refuge behind a big boom under the guns of Mantushan fort, on the Tiger peninsula, where, a few nights later, she was energetically attacked by our destroyers. These attacks were repeated nightly, with considerable loss to our side, until the night of 15th-16th, when the ship was successfully torpedoed. Her end was so evidently near now that we ceased our attacks; but nothing could save her, and on the 20th of the month her captain took her out into deep water, opened her Kingston valves, and sank her, so that she might not fall into the hands of the Japanese.
Meanwhile, North Kikwan fort was captured by our troops on the night of the 18th, after a fight which cost us close upon a thousand men. Two days later, we took a battery close to it; and on the 28th, the formidable Erhlung became ours after a tremendous fight. Success after success on our part now followed each other rapidly, each additional capture firing our troops with renewed courage and determination. The last day of the year saw Sungshushan fort fall to us, and the first day of 1905 saw the New Panlung and H batteries in our hands, the Chinese Wall breached, and the Japanese flag planted well within the Russian defences. Wangtai fort was stormed and taken on the afternoon of the same day, and as twilight was closing down upon the scene a Cossack, bearing a large white flag, was seen riding out of the Swishiying valley, followed by a Russian officer.
The officer was the bearer of a letter from General Stoessel to General Nogi, inviting the latter to open negotiations with the writer “to determine the conditions of surrender” of Port Arthur. Needless to say, the Japanese general gladly, yet without undue haste, acceded to Stoessel’s proposal; and at noon of 2nd January 1905, Major-General Ijichi met Major-General Reiss at Plum Tree Cottage, a miserable little hovel situated in the village of Swishiying, and the negotiations were opened which resulted in Port Arthur passing into the possession of the Japanese on the evening of that day, although the Russian evacuation did not take place until the 5th of January.
Chapter Twenty.
THE BATTLE OF TSUSHIMA.
Meanwhile, what had become of the Japanese navy, after the battle of the Yellow Sea?
So far as the Yakumo was concerned, we were in the very thick of the fight when it was at its hottest, and when at length the battle came to an end with the flight of the Retvisan and Pobieda, we were one of the ships which had been so severely mauled that extensive repairs were necessary before we could undertake further service. Accordingly, we were ordered to proceed forthwith to Sasebo to refit; and since we were by no means alone in our plight, we had to await our turn. Hence it was the middle of January 1905 before the Yakumo was again ready for sea; and in the meantime I had ample opportunity to cement my friendship with the members of the Boyd family, who had acted the part of Good Samaritan to me when I first made acquaintance with Sasebo.
The day before the Yakumo left Sasebo for our rendezvous at the Elliot Islands, news arrived that the long talked-of Baltic Fleet had reached Madagascar and was at anchor in Passandava Bay, refitting, provisioning, and generally enjoying the hospitality of the French nation. This, of course, was not the first news that we had received of it; we had been duly apprised of its departure from Libau on 15th October and had also heard—with surprise on the part of the Japanese, and with bitter mortification and shame on my own part—of its subsequent unprovoked and unpunished attack upon the Gamecock fleet of British trawlers; but nobody was in the least disturbed by the news that this formidable fleet was at last actually at sea, for as a matter of fact we in Japan regarded its departure as nothing more than a move on the part of the Russian Government intended to encourage the garrison of Port Arthur to continue its resistance. For, to speak the plain truth, nobody seriously believed that the voyage would ever be continued far beyond the western extremity of the English Channel, for we could not see how it was going to be done. But now, when it was apparent that France was openly ignoring and outraging all the laws governing neutral nations, in favour of Russia, it behoved Japan to take serious notice of what was happening, and she not only protested vigorously against France’s violation of neutrality, but set to work in earnest to prepare for the new menace which was gradually creeping closer to her shores.
For a month after the arrival of the Yakumo at the Elliots, I and half of my crew formed a portion of that busy multitude who toiled in Port Arthur harbour to raise the sunken ships which cumbered it, and to clear the entrance channel; but on the 10th of February the naval contingent rejoined its ships, and on the 14th the Japanese battle fleet disappeared from human ken, and for three whole months was no more seen, save by a few who were made clearly to understand the vital necessity to remain absolutely silent.
Not so, however, the Japanese cruisers. It was our mission to generate a feeling of uneasiness and anxiety in the mind of Admiral Rojdestvensky and those of his officers and men; and with that object squadrons and single ships were directed to show themselves suddenly and mysteriously, and as suddenly to disappear again, in those waters through which the Russian fleet would have to pass on its voyage to Vladivostock. And we did this so effectually and with such excellent judgment that very soon the various telegraph cables grew hot with the number of messages transmitted through them, telling the most marvellous stories of enormous Japanese fleets seen in various parts of the world at the same moment, and of huge and incredibly strong fortifications erected on the Formosan coast and elsewhere.
“Bluffing” was not confined to our side, however; French newspapers were permitted to fall into our hands, in which the news was circumstantially set forth that, in consequence of the fall of Port Arthur, Admiral Rojdestvensky had been recalled, and that he was taking his entire fleet back to Europe by way of the Suez Canal—with the exception of four of his best battleships, which, it was hinted, had foundered at sea. On 20th March, however, reliable information reached Japan that the 1st and 2nd Divisions of Rojdestvensky’s fleet had left Madagascar on the 16th of the month, steering north-east. Two days later, news reached us that the Russian fleet had been sighted in the Indian Ocean, still steering north-east; and a week later the first of our scouts—a smart and fast steam yacht, flying German colours—apparently bound westward, passed within four miles of the armada, took careful count of it, and reported by wireless its exact position and the fact that it consisted of forty-three ships, seven of which were battleships, while of the rest, ten were cruisers and seven were destroyers.
From that moment our scouts, under every conceivable guise except that of warships, never for a moment lost touch with the Russians. We knew that they passed Singapore on 8th April; we knew that they touched at the Anamba Islands and coaled there before the Dutch warships could arrive to prevent them; and we knew that on 14th April the fleet arrived in Kamranh harbour, in French Indo-China, where, while awaiting the arrival of Admiral Nebogatoff’s squadron,—which was coming out via the Suez Canal,—the Russians proceeded
to make good defects and generally prepare for the fight which they knew awaited them.
Of course the Japanese Government vigorously protested against this flagrant violation of the law regulating the conduct of neutrals, and France replied with polite assurances that such violation should not be repeated. This was followed by an order to the Russians to leave Kamranh harbour, which they obeyed at their leisure, moving on first to Port Dayot and then—when ordered from there in response to fresh Japanese protests—to Hon-koe Bay. Thus, with the connivance of the French authorities, a very pretty game of hide-and-seek was played by Rojdestvensky, until 8th May, when Nebogatoff joined with his nine craft, and the now completed fleet entered Hon-koe Bay and calmly proceeded to complete the task of refitting, coaling, and provisioning prior to its great attempt to force its way through to Vladivostock. As for the Japanese Government, it speedily recognised that France had quite made up its mind to ignore the laws of neutrality in favour of Russia, and accordingly ceased to lodge any further useless protests.
A week later—on 14th May, to be exact—the entire Russian fleet left Hon-koe Bay, steering northward; and although the French authorities suppressed the news of the departure for two whole days, Togo, who was now with his fleet in Chin-hai Bay, on the southern coast of Korea, received the news by wireless the same night. Thenceforward its progress was carefully watched and reported daily, so that at any moment Togo could put his finger upon the chart and indicate the position of the enemy, within a few miles.
Under the Ensign of the Rising Sun Page 29
