Chapter X

PREPARING FOR BATTLE.

To associate violence and death with the valley of the Yalu seemed a

sacrilege, so tranquil it looked and so beautiful. The sun lighted

up the dark ridges and gilded the tawny sand through which flowed

rivers that separated the broad plain into islands. Away to the East

lay a wild forest country given over to hunters. Westward, as the

estuary opened its arms to the embrace of the sea, rose the smoke of

a city in the shadow of receding hills. Between city and forest were

scattered hamlets and homesteads that sheltered a race of white-robed

peasants. A strange stillness brooded over the valley: the air was

charged with mystery: and mountain and river were heavy with portent.

The great heart of nature had ceased to beat and life in the delta was

suspended. With furled sails the junks rested in the yellow creeks: no

oxen wandered in the fields or bemoaned their burden of rice straw: no

husbandman made ready for seed time. The whole scene looked and felt

like painted canvas.

[Illustration: JAPANESE PONTOONS

BATTLE OF YALU

DRAWN BY A JAPANESE OFFICER]

This was the valley of the Yalu, which from its source to the sea

forms the frontier between Korea and Manchuria. The black specks that

crawled like insects over ridge and flat were men awaiting the word

of command that was to make these silent hills resound with the

thunders of battle. Our horses picked their way through the squalid

streets and halted at the head-quarters of the Guards. A wooden gate,

shaped like a temple, told us in Chinese characters that this was

Wiju--“The Stronghold of the West.” Through the walls of the city have

poured again and again the invading armies of China, for Wiju is the

ford of the Yalu, and along the track that resumes its march among the

mountains has been borne for centuries the tribute paid by the Emperor

of Korea to his suzerain in Pekin. Most of the inhabitants had fled and

the mean lanes of thatched hovels had a depressing aspect.

Passing through the North Gate we came to a steep hill crowned with a

temple--Toguntai, or “The place from which to command an Army”--and saw

far below us a splendid panorama of mountain and river. In bands of

green and gold the delta meandered seaward among streams of dark blue

and tawny brown. Rugged heights, seamed with deep gorges, reached down

to the Northern shore. Against the blue sky beyond, range after range

of hills purpled in the distance. The slopes were scored with passes

through which rode Russian horsemen. Westward the mountains recede and

are less precipitous, leaving ample space for the group of houses known

as Chiu-lien-cheng, which is not a walled town as the name implies.

Near slate-roofed barracks stood a few Cossacks: others rode slowly

down towards the river Ai that flows within two thousand mètres of

the hamlet. On the hills above Chiu-lien-cheng could be traced earth

works and trenches that commanded the highway along which an army from

the South must pass. Seaward, in the shadow of low receding hills,

lay the Manchurian town of Antung with a population of 150,000 and a

considerable trade in nankeens, oil, iron, and timber, as the junks in

the creek testified.

This was the Russian position on the North bank of the estuary of the

Yalu. In physical aspect it bore a strong resemblance to the position

that confronted General Buller on the Tugela. There was the plain

of the delta with the unfordable river beyond, and behind that were

the rugged heights in which the Russians were entrenched. Their left

flank rested on mountains that appeared inaccessible to large bodies

of troops and unsuited to any operations other than those of guerilla

warfare; their right wing was covered by a broad deep river, while

their front must be approached over a network of streams and flat

country. According to the rules of war the position was impregnable.

The only vulnerable point seemed to be on the right, where the Yalu is

navigable by ships of shallow draft, and a cultivated plain stretches

to the foot of receding hills that diminish in height as they draw

nearer to the mouth of the estuary.

On Friday, April 22nd, the Russians made their first effort to discover

the strength of their adversaries and to ascertain at what point an

attempt would be made to force the passage of the river. Four junks

manned by infantry crossed over from the West of Antung. They were

driven back by rifle fire and returned to the Manchurian side under

cover of guns on a hill to the North-west of Antung. About the same

time a thousand Cossacks were despatched to feel for the Japanese

right flank. Fording the Yalu at Piek-tung, they disarmed some Korean

soldiers and left three hundred troopers to occupy the place until

the 28th, when they fell back across the river to Tcho-san before the

advance of a Japanese battalion.

The Japanese completed their preparations on April 24th; their pontoons

were ready and in their appointed places; their troops were massed in

Wiju and behind the hills to the South; their gun positions had been

well chosen to cover pioneers and landing parties and were artfully

masked. But before the streams could be bridged the enemy must be

driven from the islands of Kulito and Chonchagtai as well as from Tiger

Hill. On the evening of the 25th, two gunboats, two torpedo boats, and

two armed launches entered Yongampo and made a demonstration in the

direction of Antung with the object of deceiving the enemy as to the

direction of the real attack.

At half-past three o’clock on the morning of the 26th, our camp, two

miles South of Wiju, was roused by Captain Okada with a message from

Head Quarters. We were to witness the operation of driving the Russian

outposts from the islands. At eight o’clock the sound of rifle fire on

the East told that the landing had begun and that the enemy had not

been taken by surprise. Several boats manned by infantry and sappers

put off from Kontonto across the main stream. They met with but feeble

resistance and after a few casualties secured a footing on the island.

The Russian infantry from the cover of Tiger Hill kept up a show of

opposition while some Cossacks were sent to reinforce, but came too

late. Their retirement was covered by a Hotchkiss gun on Tiger Hill

which afterwards opened fire on Wiju, burning two houses and killing

several natives. The Japanese guns remained silent and refused to

disclose their position. Next day the enemy’s cannonade was resumed,

being directed mainly against the bridge in course of construction West

of the town.

On the 28th, two companies of Guards crossed the branch of the Yalu to

Tiger Hill and drove the Russians from the promontory. At 4 p.m. on

the following day a Russian battalion, with four guns, attacked the

position and compelled the Guards to retire to Kulito, leaving the

enemy again in possession of Tiger Hill. This temporary occupation of

Tiger Hill caused the Russians to abandon Chonchagtai on the 28th. They

accordingly set fire to the buildings, sparing only the temple, and for

several hours smoke and flame stretching for nearly a mile across the

island masked the movements of the enemy.

Meanwhile preparations were made for the flanking movement. The mixed

brigade, which had marched from Anju through Yusan to Shojo, collected

material for bridging, and floated it down the river to Suikochin,

thirteen miles North-east of Wiju, where the Twelfth Division were to

cross. At first it was proposed to despatch a force from Shojo to the

other side of the river with the object of drawing the Russians in that

direction and relieving the pressure on the Japanese front. But lack

of bridging material and ignorance of the conditions North of the Yalu

over-ruled this project as dangerous. The mixed brigade accordingly

retired on April 29th, and rejoined the Twelfth Division at Suikochin,

leaving only a few men to guard against surprise on the extremity

of the right flank. There was, however, little fear that the enemy

would attempt to cross at Shojo, where they would find themselves in

mountainous country, and have difficulty in obtaining supplies.

The general plan of attack was made known in an army order issued at

ten o’clock on the morning of April 28th. Some changes were afterwards

made, but they did not materially affect the scheme.

The Twelfth Division were to cross the Yalu at Suikochin on the night

of the 29th, and by the evening of the 30th were to hold the line from

Tiger Hill to Litsuyen. On the following day they were to advance

to Santowan. The duty of this Division was to cover the crossing of

the main army. If possible, General Inouye was to send a detachment

to Altaokau to threaten the left wing and rear of the enemy who were

entrenched at Makau and Yushukau on the north bank of the Ai-ho.

The Second Division, which formed the left flank, were to assemble at

Shasanton, South-east of Wiju, at ten o’clock on the morning of the

30th, and to march at midnight to Wonfuaton, where four bridges spanned

two branch streams of the Yalu. From the island of Kulito they were

to pass by way of Tiger Hill to a position in front of the Ai-ho. The

Second Regiment of artillery (Second Division) were to be stationed on

the left bank of the main stream at Chonchagtai, and were to be ready

to open fire at daybreak on the 30th.

The Guards Division, having fewer difficulties to overcome, were to

follow the same route as the Second Division on the night of the 30th,

and to take up a position between the Twelfth and Second Divisions.

The howitzer regiment was to occupy a position on Kontonto island on

the 29th. One reserve battalion was posted near the howitzers to guard

them and the field guns.

The reserve, which consisted of four infantry battalions and five

squadrons of cavalry, were to muster at four o’clock on the morning of

May 1st on the island of Kulito.

From the Yalu to Port Arthur · 第 10 / 46 章