THE RUSSIAN ARMY RETIRES ON LIAO-YANG.
Although the centre of their right flank had been forced, there
appeared no urgent reason for the Russians to withdraw beyond the
river. There were hills in front capable of defence, and our losses
had been heavy. For the explanation we must look to the right, where
the Twelfth Division was driving back the enemy upon the Tang-ho and
menacing his flank near Am-ping. At dawn on the 26th our right wing
made connexion with the centre and opened its attack on Hanyaling.
The country is furrowed with narrow ravines, out of which spring
precipitous heights, on which the enemy were strongly entrenched.
Moreover, the Russians fought with splendid courage, and with
determination born of the knowledge that this Pass was the key to the
first line of their Eastern defence. East and South-east of Am-ping
were field batteries that gave great assistance in checking our
advance.
[Illustration:
BATTLE
--OF--
LIAO-YANG
DRAWN BY A JAPANESE OFFICER.]
“Do you think you will take the position to-day?” asked a foreign
_attaché_, speaking to a private.
The soldier hesitated, after the manner of the Japanese.
“Yes; I think so. But to-day the Russians are very obstinate!”
Dense fog hid the enemy late in the afternoon, and the movement
was suspended. Yet through the night a fierce struggle went on for
possession of a ridge on which the Russians, deeming the height
unassailable, had posted a field battery. It was rash, however, to set
limits to the capacity of mountaineers like those in General Inouye’s
command. The hill was stormed; was defended with stones and avalanches
of rock, and was captured. From the summit the victors hurled stones
upon the enemy, whose energies were concentrated on flight, and both
slopes were quickly strewn with dying men. The wounds inflicted by
the rocks were terrible, and the mortality was greater than it could
have been from rifle fire. Two counter attacks were made and repulsed,
and seven field guns of the latest pattern fell into the hands of the
Japanese. When darkness put an end to the fight this was the state of
affairs:--The Russian centre and left were withdrawing to their second
line beyond the Tang-ho, leaving a force among the lower hills to cover
the retirement, and their right was falling slowly back along the Pekin
road. Our right was pressing hard on the enemy’s flank; our centre
occupied the position evacuated by the Russians, and our left was
preparing to follow up the advantage with a vigorous bombardment, when
rain and mist descended upon the battlefield.
At eleven o’clock next morning the enemy began to retire across the
Tang-ho under cover of guns posted South-east of Am-ping. The movement
was cleverly made, and the spectacle was one of the most remarkable
witnessed during the war.
For five long months we had lived in the mountains. Day after day we
had toiled and sweated up the hillsides, and always our vision had been
bounded by a narrow horizon. We had grown weary of prison ranges and a
world that was a tumultuous sea of green. We panted for the freedom of
the plains, for a distant horizon and unfettered vision. And here they
lay before us. It was on the morning of August 27th that we had our
first glimpse of the great plain that stretches North to the fringe of
the Gobi desert. It looked unreal--a mirage of yellow and green fading
into infinite space. The mountain on which we stood, among gruesome
evidences of the combat, was veiled in mist that rolled aside like a
curtain and revealed the panorama of hill and valley. Bending like
a bow to the East the river Tang gleamed like an opal set in narrow
bands of emerald and gold. Along the near bank moved dark lines of
men and horses and wagons, stretching for miles till they vanished
behind the spur of a hill, and crossing over by a bridge, reappeared
on the plain beyond. In an unbroken stream they flowed past the white
tents in the bed of the river and vanished once more among the trees
of a village on the plain. From the mountains about Am-ping descended
tributary rivulets of men and horses, and away to our right tiny clouds
of white vapour on the dark slopes and crest showed that the Japanese
were encouraging them to flight. What a target they made, and what
havoc might have been wrought by a few well-placed guns of long range!
How great would have been the spoils! How complete the victory! Again
and again did the Japanese bemoan the fate that had given them guns
of short range and light projectile. Pursuit was out of the question,
for the enemy, conscious of immunity from shell fire, concentrated his
force with exasperating deliberation, being fully alive to the fact
that in their present formation the Japanese would never venture to
follow. All we could do was to look upon the spectacle, and moralise on
the subject of long range artillery.
We had driven the enemy across the Tang-ho, but they still held the
heights North and West of Am-ping and had a second line of defensive
works beyond the river. A great change, however, had come over the
whole situation. The armies of the West and South had encountered the
Russians at Anshantien and found them loth to venture on a decisive
issue. At half-past six o’clock on the evening of August 27th, General
Kuroki received the following message from Field Marshall Oyama:--“The
enemy at Anshantien has begun to retire. This may be the effect of the
First Army’s attack on its flank. I have given orders to the Second
and Fourth Armies to pursue.” Upon this came another communication
from Grand Head Quarters:--“The retreat of the enemy is confirmed. The
Second and Fourth Armies are pursuing.” Before the advancing legions of
Japan the enemy were fleeing toward Liao-yang and their last defences.
The news was startling, for it had long been known that the Russians
had made defensive works at Anshantien, where they were expected to
offer a stubborn resistance. That they should abandon this strong
position without a struggle was proof that the First Army had done its
work well, and had inspired the enemy with fear lest Anshantien might
be turned. The situation called for prompt and energetic action. If
the Russians had made up their minds to evacuate Liao-yang and to fall
back upon Mukden without striking a blow there was imminent risk that
all our schemes and sacrifices of the last three months would come to
naught and that our prey would escape the net spread for him. Liao-yang
without Russian guns and captives would be a poor reward at the end
of five months’ successful campaigning. Two alternatives presented
themselves. By overtaking the enemy we might compel him to accept
battle at Liao-yang, or we might engage him in a rear guard action and
detach a strong force to cross the Tai-tsu and strike North at his
communications. The position demanded a General of daring and resource.
Having withdrawn to their entrenched line at Shou-shan the Russians
were content with holding the defences North of the Tang-ho only
long enough to ensure the orderly retirement of their forces in the
neighbourhood of Am-ping. General Kuroki gave instant orders for the
occupation of the line from the North-east of Sobyoshi to Kosanshi
through Daisekimon. This advance met with feeble opposition. Our work
on the 28th of August was comparatively easy. We were in possession of
the South bank of the river, with our centre a little way to the West
of Am-ping, and our left wing established across the Pekin road.
On the morning of the 28th I rode toward Am-ping to witness the passage
of the Tang-ho and found myself within fifteen hundred yards of the
Russian trenches. In the valley behind me, sheltered by a precipitous
mountain slope, was a Japanese field battery, and half a mile in front
of it, among some trees near a rocky mound, were two batteries, the
fire of which was directed against a bold ridge on the opposite side of
the river. No enemy was visible, though the trenches could be seen, and
an officer on the hill before me signalling to the batteries. By the
way, the Japanese have many things to learn in the art of communication
on the battle field. They never use the heliograph, and only twice
have I seen signalling by flags. The range and direction of the guns
were shouted along a line of men posted at regular intervals on the
slope and in the valley--a slow and cumbersome process. The shelling
continued, and suddenly out of the trenches rose a considerable number
of the enemy, who fled up the hill pursued by shrapnel that did little
harm. Away on the left front a similar incident happened, though in
this case nearly a battalion was dislodged and had to climb slowly up
a precipice, where they offered a splendid target. Once more shrapnel
demonstrated how ineffective it can be even at close range. A single
common shell would have done more damage than scores of rounds of
shrapnel.
Before noon our troops had marched through Am-ping and crossed the
Tang-ho at a deep ford. Am-ping is a type of all Chinese towns and
has a very prosperous appearance. The houses are substantially built,
and those of the merchants are surrounded with high walls, loop-holed
and crennelated for defence against bandits and raiders. General
Kuropatkin had lodged in the largest of these houses two or three days
before and drank tea in the courtyard surrounded by flowers. The town
escaped occupation by the Japanese, for at noon General Kuroki received
the following orders:--“First Army sweep the enemy from its front
and prepare to cross to the right bank of the Tai-tsu as quickly as
possible. Second and Fourth Armies expect to attack Liao-yang, taking
the positions Sofanton, Otoen, Shaka, and eight kilometres North-west
of Shaka.”