ATTACK ON MOU-TIEN-LING.
At dawn, on the 18th of July, we were roused by the sound of rifles and
the hurrying feet of armed men. A dense mist lay over the valley of
Lien-chen-kwan, and out of the darkness beyond came the solemn booming
of volleys. The little stone house on the other side of the river
slept soundly. Nothing of importance could be happening as long as
the General was within those silent walls. We went back to our tents,
but not to slumber. Minutes passed and still the volleys echoed among
the cloud-capped hills. The little house woke with a start. Officers
dropped in by twos and threes; orderlies came and went, and the
hitching posts at the door held a mob of screaming horses. Something
more than an affair of outposts?
We dressed and made ready to ride to the front. But the Japanese were
as careful of us as if they were our mothers. They had set their faces
firmly against risk on our part. “You must wait,” said our mentor, and
he meant it this time. So we waited, booted and spurred--waited and
watched troops hastening forward, wiping the sweat from their brows as
they ran: waited and watched ammunition wagons rumble by: waited and
heard the volleys drowned in the roar of artillery, sharp and solemn
as thunder peals among the mountains. To our impatience was the same
answer: “You must wait.”
The crowd before the little house grew. Foreign _attachés_, eager
for their first battle, came riding up. For them was the same order:
“Wait.” Importunity avails not with a Staff officer whom you must
approach through an interpreter. Near and more near boomed the cannons.
They knocked at our very door. But the Staff officer was unmoved.
“You must wait.” Chinese women and girls seized their bundles and
fled into the mountain whence they had come after the retreat of the
Russians--they did not like the soldiers of the Czar. In the little
house over the river orderlies packed up and prepared for a flitting.
Was it so serious as that? A telegraph section crossed the stream and
ran a wire up the hill where three men stood like statues in the mist.
We breakfasted and waited and watched more soldiers mopping their
foreheads as they doubled past and more ammunition wagons rolling to
the front. At last came release, and at a canter we started for the
scene of action, Mou-tien-ling once more.
For days there had been unwonted activity in the enemy’s camp West of
the Pass. Reinforcements arrived and preparations were made to renew,
on a grand scale, the attack of the 4th of July. Meanwhile, the
Japanese had strengthened their advance post and awaited the assault.
A strict vigil was kept, and for two nights men slept fully armed.
Shortly after midnight on the 16th the officer commanding the brigade
on the North of the Pass was informed that a body of the enemy was
moving on his front. The attack was about to be delivered. He sent
warning to the head quarters of the brigade West of Mou-tien-ling, and
measures were taken to repel the enemy. At half-past two o’clock on the
morning of the 17th a squadron of cavalry and a large force of infantry
appeared in the valley that debouches on the road to Liao-yang, and
reaches by a gradual ascent the road over the Pass. Three thousand five
hundred yards from Mou-tien-ling--on the road to Liao-yang--stands
a white tower, conspicuous on the lower spur of a hill. West of the
To-wan--the name given to this locality--the road approaches the
Pass between hills, and enters a narrow valley in which are two tiny
hamlets--Kinki-hotsu at the Western end, and Lika-hotsu in the middle.
The sides of the valley run North and South and are steep. Leaving the
valley the road ascends past an isolated conical hill to a sharp low
ridge, which closes the Eastern end of the defile. Upon this road,
commanding the valley and its approach from the West is a trench--the
farthest point reached by the Russians on the 4th of July. At the back
of the trench is some scrub, and to the left of it, facing West, is
a small plantation, and behind that again a shrine, from which the
road dips into a gorge, and then ascends to a broad ridge. From the
centre of this ridge, which is like a bow bent between broad backed
hills, rises a temple, large and solidly built--the head quarters
of the post. East of the temple the ridge tumbles into a V-shaped
valley, the Western slope of which rises abruptly to the summit of
Mou-tien-ling--the Japanese line of defence.
Orders had been given that picquets and posts were not to resist
the enemy if he appeared in force. They were to fall back upon the
defensive line on the summit. The Russians advanced “like dark waves
of the sea,” and picquet and post withdrew from the hamlet in the
valley and from the trench and the temple, firing a few random shots as
they retired. Not being accustomed to so gentle a reception the enemy
became suspicious and advanced very cautiously toward the temple. Here
they seemed inclined to halt, and a few Japanese skirmishers were sent
forward to discover their position. When day broke the Russians were in
possession of the Western slopes, ridges and valleys of Mou-tien-ling;
their right wing rested on a broad hill eight hundred yards from the
Japanese trenches below the summit of the Pass: on their right rear was
a plantation filled with riflemen; their left flank occupied a trench
on a hill fronting the summit, while their centre held the ridge about
the temple. In the V-shaped valley were more troops who had marched
by the road South of the Pass and in front of the white tower--three
thousand five hundred yards away on the Liao-yang road--was posted a
field battery of eight guns. Seven Russian regiments or nearly thirty
thousand fighting men were engaged, for the attack was not confined
to Mou-tien-ling but covered a front of fifteen miles. Three Japanese
regiments and one field battery held the Pass. Their left wing was
secure, close to it lay a division, but the right was weak and might
have suffered but for the magnificent courage of a single company at an
isolated post six or seven miles to the North.
The dispositions were made under cover of night, and at dawn the two
forces confronted each other across a steep and narrow valley. Though
the mist still shrouded the mountain the fight began. At twenty minutes
before five o’clock a steady fusilade was opened from both sides. The
road from the temple to the crest has a gradual ascent, and on one side
the ground rises to a height of two or three feet. Under this cover a
few daring Russians pressed forward but they could not hope to reach
the summit. The bend in the path was quickly strewn with dead. And now
was approaching the moment for energetic action. The Russian guns must
remain silent; they could do nothing without endangering their comrades
in front. The Japanese were anxious not to unmask their artillery too
early in the encounter, for they had on the crest only one battery of
field guns. Soon after six o’clock this caution was laid aside, and
the Japanese guns began to speak. The air was now clear, and below the
guns, at a range of fifteen hundred yards, lay a splendid target--the
enemy massed in the V-shaped valley. A hail of shrapnel tore gaps in
the close ranks and strewed the valley with dead and dying. To this
destructive bombardment was added the distant fire of a battalion of
rifles on the extreme right.
Notwithstanding these losses in the valley the Russians were secure
on the ridge about the temple, and there appeared no reason why they
should not remain there until turned out by the bayonet. Their right
was pushed well forward in trench and wood, from which the Japanese
advance could be enfiladed and taken in the rear; their left was
strongly posted in a trench commanding the steep decline down which the
Japanese must come from the right, and their centre had the shelter of
the solidly built temple, with a compound surrounded by a high stone
wall. Any attempt on the part of the Japanese to rush the position
must have been attended with great loss, and might easily have proved
disastrous. That General Nishi fully realised the danger was shown by
the rapidity with which the reinforcements were hurried forward.
At nine o’clock the enemy began to retire. The cause of this unexpected
determination to abandon an obvious advantage was obscure. It might
have been due to the action of a reconnoitring party from the division
on our left. At any rate the story was that on the morning of the 17th
a patrol from our left encountered a body of Russians, and was driven
back. Returning with one battalion and a battery they renewed the
combat and put the Russians to flight. Not content with this success,
the commander of the force resolved to push forward in the direction
of Mou-tien-ling, whence he heard heavy firing. Having faith in the
old maxim of “marching to the cannon,” he abandoned the road, led his
battalion over the mountains and suddenly appeared in the rear of the
Russians, about three miles beyond To-wan.
General Keller, who was in command, may have imagined that this was a
counter attack on his right flank, and that his line of retreat was
seriously menaced. Whatever the cause the result was before us when we
arrived at Mou-tien-ling.
The retirement began on the left, the men falling back steadily to the
shelter of the plantation. Hard upon their heels came the Japanese,
firing into the scrub and young timber, out of which flew thick and
fast the bullets of the hidden foe. Twice the pursuers tried to
penetrate the wood, and twice they fell back. It was impossible to
take aim, for though the trees and undergrowth were not strong enough
to afford cover they were dense enough for concealment. When at last
the Japanese succeeded in entering, the greater part of the enemy had
descended into the valley and were taking up a position on the right to
cover the retirement of the centre. A few, however, remained, and these
the Japanese officer invited by a gesture to lay down their arms and
surrender. Five immediately dropped on their knees and fired, without
effect. So the combat in the wood was renewed, and as we passed
through we saw many a grim evidence of the struggle. The centre retired
slowly and in good order, covered by a flanking fire from the hills on
the left. A small rear guard remained at the temple, around which lay
several dead and wounded. Left and centre were now in retreat, taking
up positions from which they checked any disposition on the part of the
Japanese to come to close quarters.
In the plantation near the shrine, and on the conical hill, the
Russians remained for some time, but they made no attempt to recover
the lost ground. Meanwhile, the Russian right had withdrawn from the
slopes to the crests of the hills north of the temple, whence they
opened a cross fire upon the pursuit before they streamed away into the
valley and the Liao-yang road. A fine target they afforded on the green
hill side, but the Japanese guns were silent. Hour after hour went by
as we followed the firing line and watched the slow and deliberate
retirement of the enemy. A strong force had secured the hills close to
the entrance of the valley on the North, and here they remained firing
volley after volley whenever a forward movement was threatened by the
Japanese. One battalion that ventured too far into the valley tempted
the Russian gunners to open fire, and a dozen soldiers were quickly
stretched on the grass by one shell. Another battalion pressed along
the South slope toward the mouth of the valley, but could not descend
without exposing itself to a ruthless fusilade.
Thus the position remained until late in the afternoon. From the trench
in front of the shrine, and from the conical hill we saw the enemy in
retreat toward To-wan. A long line of ambulance wagons stretched beyond
the white tower; behind them marched infantry and cavalry in close
order; and in the rear waited a strong force of infantry and cavalry
with half a battery. They were guarding the exit from the valley along
which strolled an occasional soldier with a gait as leisurely and a
manner as indifferent as though these were manœuvres instead of war. At
any sign of advance by the Japanese, the infantry at the entrance to
the valley formed up to oppose them, and the guns were unlimbered and
trained. This sufficed; the Japanese were not strong enough to force an
attack home. Here was the moment when one realised the importance of
horse artillery. A single battery well handled would have turned this
deliberate retirement into a stampede. The pursuit was not pressed, and
the army of General Keller drew off with a final cannonade directed
against our right.
Away on our right flank was enacted a dramatic episode that might
have been a tragedy. In order to avoid the Pass the Russians had made
a road which sweeps round the North spur of the mountain, following
the plain from a point near Lien-chen-kwan to the road leading to
Am-ping. By this way came a force of the enemy. At a point six miles
north of Mou-tien-ling they met a Japanese outpost of one company.
Though greatly outnumbered, the outpost realising the importance of
its position, withstood the onslaught. Hemmed in by six companies they
fought as Japanese soldiers always fight--with the coolness and skill
of veterans, and the courage of fanatics. Closer and closer drew the
enemy until the struggle was almost hand to hand. Numbers could not
avail against courage so desperate. The Russians retreated, leaving
their dead and wounded, and our right flank was safe. But the cost was
great to this gallant company. All the officers were killed or wounded,
and of the rank and file twenty were killed and forty-five wounded.
There was a moment when the position on our left flank in the Pass
looked not less critical, for the enemy came within eight hundred yards
and had good cover. But reinforcements arrived and that interval was
soon a glacis of bullets across which no troops, however desperate,
could have passed.
It is not easy to understand this repeated effort to capture a position
which was abandoned without firing a shot. The explanation has been
offered that Mou-tien-ling was evacuated without the knowledge
of General Kuropatkin and on the rumour that two divisions were
threatening to outflank the position. A more probable explanation is
that General Kuropatkin, finding it necessary to withdraw his force
from the Liao-tung Peninsula, and to fall back on Liao-yang, determined
to recover the Pass, in the hope of delaying the advance of General
Kuroki, who was seeking to effect a junction with General Oku in front
of Liao-yang.