THE ASSAULT ON LIAO-YANG.
On the morning of August 30th, when we looked down upon Liao-yang we
believed that this city of the plain would be the Sedan of Manchuria.
A crescent of steel was drawn about it, and armed men were threatening
on every side. Yet Liao-yang, unconscious of impending doom, lay silent
and unmoved. We had climbed a mountain on the East and saw the plain--a
great expanse of brown fields and grass with dark patches of wood. On
the North ran the broad river, in whose embrace nestled the city. Grey
walls, five miles in circumference, enclosed much cultivated land and
many houses, above the dark roofs of which towered a pagoda dedicated
to eight incarnations of Buddha. And beyond the walls was another and
a newer city--European in aspect--an ugly straggling line of brick
houses and stores, with a railway station, towards which a train moved
leisurely from the North over a bridge across the river. In five months
this was our first evidence of permanent Russian occupation. Upon the
flats South of the town were lines of earthworks and two redoubts that
looked like fortresses, and further South was a line of low hills--the
entrenched position or Shou-shan. From the centre of this line rose
a grey mass of rock broken and precipitous, and separated from it on
the East by the main road to Hai-cheng was a low hill with three broad
peaks that was to be the scene of one of the most bloody encounters in
the war.
The stillness that brooded over city and plain was charged with
portent. A struggle--among the most terrific in a quarter of a
century--was about to shake the mountains and devastate the plain
as with some mighty convulsion of nature. Yet only to the eye of
experience was any sign revealed. Save for a column of smoke near the
base of the pagoda the town looked deserted. Over the plain wandered
small bodies of men and horse, and on the river flats, where the Tang
joins the Tai-tsu, was a force of infantry and artillery guarding the
approach from the East. The hills were too far off to betray their
occupants, yet we knew that on the crescent line of ridges was a great
Russian army, and that on the plain and in the hills beyond were the
legions of the Mikado.
The strength of the enemy was estimated at six army corps or two
hundred thousand men. General Kuropatkin’s reason for withdrawing
to the defences about Liao-yang is clearly stated in his official
despatch to the Czar. His line of retreat along the Tang river was
threatened by General Kuroki, while his left flank at Anshantien was
endangered by another turning movement. “In order to save time and
inflict severe losses on the enemy, I withdrew all the army corps from
advanced positions to Liao-yang.” The retirement was attended with many
difficulties. “In consequence of the mountainous nature of the country
on our front and the bad condition of the roads toward the South, the
two days’ march toward Liao-yang was of the most difficult kind, and
only the devotion of all the troops on the East front enabled it to be
carried out in good order. Only after incredible difficulties was it
found possible to drag all the guns, without exception, and all our
baggage through the passes. Some of the guns were carried through the
mountains by infantry. Difficult as was the retreat through the passes
under pressure from the enemy, the march across the open country was
still more arduous. The left and centre columns succeeded in getting
all their artillery and baggage to Liao-yang. The march of the right
column, which was obliged to cross Westward to the railway, where
the country had suffered more severely from rains, was especially
difficult. Considerable forces of the enemy followed the rear guard,
which maintained a stubborn resistance. The guns of one of the retiring
batteries began to sink in the mud. Every effort was made to save them.
Twenty-four horses were hitched to each piece, companies of infantry
assisting with ropes. The horses and men, however, sank so deep that
it was necessary for the comrades of the latter to haul them out.
General Rutkovsky remained so long covering the extrication of the
guns, that his forces lost heavily, and the General himself and Colonel
Raben, commanding the Fourth Regiment of East Siberian Sharpshooters,
were killed. Notwithstanding all efforts, it was finally necessary to
abandon the guns. On August 29th, the army concentrated at Liao-yang.
One corps took a position on the right bank of the Tai-ten river, while
another held the left bank.”
The strongest point in the Russian defences was Shou-shan, a rocky
eminence 300 feet high, four miles South-west of the city, on the
summit of which stands a beacon tower built by the Chinese in olden
times. Along its North-eastern foot winds the main road to Liao-yang,
while the railway passes under the Western slope. The South side of the
hill is enclosed by rugged heights, and on the East are three hills
on which the enemy had constructed triple lines of trenches connected
with a covered bomb-proof way. In front of the position stretched a
perfect maze of defensive works--barbed wire entanglements, _trous
de loups_, deep pits with a sharp stake to impale any unfortunate,
_chevaux de frise_, and all the strange and terrible devices of
the military engineer.
The attack opened at dawn with a prolonged artillery duel, the details
of which were unfolded before us like a panorama, and recalled that
volcanic valley through which you pass to the King country in New
Zealand. All day long shells charged with death moaned through the
air; the angry snarl of shrapnel mingled with the roar of common shell;
tiny clouds of white appeared in the heavens and dissolved in a hail
of bullets; and slope and crest and plain spurted fountains of black
earth. Liao-yang seemed to have become the centre of every form of
volcanic activity. Hundreds of guns were engaged, including many of
long range and heavy calibre. Several Russian batteries were posted on
the plain in strong and well-masked emplacements. From a semi-circle of
earthworks to the South-east darted tongues of white flame, revealing
the position of sixteen guns; further South near a grove were more
batteries; in a ravine at the foot of the grey mass of rock were eight
guns; Westward, on the plain, sixteen pieces were in vigorous action.
So much could be seen from our mountain, yet it was but a small part
of the artillery with which the enemy strove to silence our guns and
to check our advance. On their left alone the Russians were reported
to have one hundred guns. Their fire was directed mainly to the hills
on our right, where some of our batteries were posted, and battalions
of infantry were waiting the order to advance. On the plain in front
of the range of hills that formed the enemy’s defence are three
hamlets sheltered by dark groves. Here was the first line of Japanese
infantry, and to these points also the shells flew fast and furious.
The cannonade was maintained without pause, and grew in intensity till
it seemed as if all the powers of Hell had broken loose and were
wrecking the world with fire and thunder. After a time the Japanese
gunners began to locate the enemy’s batteries, and their fire became
more concentrated; but the shells fell short and not a gun was silenced.
Again, and again, and again, sharp tongues of flame darted out of the
brown plain, and the hills were wreathed in smoke. Late in the day
a little progress seemed to have been made, for the hurricane swept
nearer and nearer to the city, which looked so peaceful amid all the
turmoil and strife.
Despite this tremendous bombardment our infantry was unable to
advance. The army of the South, under General Nozu--a famous
fighting General--strove to drive back the Russian left flank. Three
divisions--one in the centre drawn from the army of the West--opened
fire on the positions at Heinytchoan and Shinryuton, where the enemy
had forty guns behind strong earthworks. Again and again the infantry
tried to move forward under cover of the artillery, but were met by a
fierce cannonade from front and flank, and had to seek the shelter of
the hills. Our right and centre succeeded in advancing a few hundred
yards, but they lacked the support expected from the division detached
from General Kuroki’s army, which had not yet gained its appointed
place. Occupying the lower ground, and fronting nearly one hundred
guns--some of them fifteen centimetre guns--they suffered severely.
Our left took the position near Tsuafauton, but came under direct and
enfilading artillery fire, and was compelled to fall back after dark,
notwithstanding that the whole of the reserve went to its aid. At five
o’clock General Nozu’s batteries were reinforced from the left, and the
Russians were subjected to a concentrated and continuous bombardment.
But the enemy fought with skill and determination, and the situation
was unchanged. At midnight the cannonade was renewed, and continued at
intervals, lighting the dark hours with lurid fires.
The battle began again at dawn. Finding it impossible to move forward,
the division on our right had made trenches and sungars, where they
awaited reinforcements from General Kuroki. This supporting force had
great difficulties to overcome, and, after a night attack against
superior numbers North of Muchapoa, ran short of ammunition, and
could not move. Meanwhile a battery was posted near Sauchazui, and
opened fire on the enemy. On our left General Oku met with desperate
resistance; the supply of ammunition was rapidly running out; the men
could not advance, and help was sought from the centre. Two divisions
co-operated in a determined attack, the left moving steadily forward in
a hurricane of shot and shell that destroyed nearly a whole battalion.
Still the enemy held fast to the main position, and, making shelter
trenches, our men waited anxiously for darkness.
During all this struggle the city lay calm and undisturbed. Clouds of
smoke again rose near the base of the pagoda, and on the North-west a
village was on fire. Trains crossed the railway bridge and steamed
into the station or Northward across the plain. On the flats East of
the town and close to the river, Russian infantry and cavalry still
guarded the approach from Am-ping. It was clear that the enemy expected
some movement in that direction, for in the afternoon a battery of
field guns with a force of cavalry and riflemen made a reconnaisance
toward the road. Advancing cautiously in two files the cavalry appeared
on the bank of the river and drew rein; the guns took position
among the trees near a village, and the infantry halted behind. But
nothing could be discovered to arouse suspicion, and presently they
returned. Had they been better informed they might have been bolder,
for the hills were held by a few military _attachés_ and foreign
correspondents, and in the ravines were only some strong picquets.
But they were content with searching our mountain with shrapnel, and
driving us from the sky line, where we had no business. As the shadows
lengthened, the cannonade, which had been desultory and comparatively
feeble in the earlier hours, burst forth with violence.