THE SINKING OF THE “PETROPAVLOVSKI”
While the Japanese troops in Korea were preparing to attack the
Russians at the Yalu River news came to the front of the destruction of
a large warship stationed in Port Arthur harbor.
This was the Russian battleship _Petropavlovski_, the flagship of
Admiral Makaroff. She was one of the largest ships in the Russian navy
and carried between seven hundred and eight hundred men.
The destruction of this magnificent vessel came about in rather a
peculiar manner. For a long while the Russian fleet had remained in
the harbor at Port Arthur, refusing to come out and fight the Japanese
fleet on the high seas, away from the protection of the land batteries.
As a ruse the Japanese admiral sent forward, one misty morning, a small
squadron of fighting ships of the second class, which began a vigorous
but rather useless bombardment. In the meantime the big Japanese
battleships kept entirely out of sight.
Seeing no ships but the little ones, the Russian admiral lost no
time in going forth to meet the enemy. At once the Japanese warships
retreated, but did it so slowly that the Russian ships were led on
and on, until they were about fifteen miles out to sea. As soon as
this was accomplished a wireless message to the big Japanese ships was
forwarded, and they at once put on all steam, to get behind the enemy,
and thus cut the Russians off from the harbor, in which case they would
no longer have the aid of the land batteries, and would have to face,
in the open sea, a force considerably larger than their own.
The plan was well laid and would have succeeded had it not been for a
sudden change in the weather. Quite unexpectedly a stiff breeze sprang
up, blowing the mist away. As soon as the sun began to peep through
the clouds the Japanese warships trying to get behind the Russians
were discovered, and Admiral Makaroff at once signaled to his fleet to
return to the harbor with all speed.
Disappointed at being unable to surround his enemy, Admiral Togo put on
all steam and went in pursuit and then began a chase such as has not
been seen since Admiral Cervera was followed by our own warships from
out of Santiago harbor. Back for Port Arthur went the Russian vessel,
battleships, cruisers, and all, steaming as they had never steamed
before.
In coming out of the harbor the Russian ships had carefully avoided
the numerous mines planted there. But they knew little about the
Japanese torpedoes placed to do them harm, and without warning the
_Petropavlovski_ came upon one of these.
A dull report was heard, and a great cloud of greenish-white water and
smoke arose in the air. Then, as the big battleship was seen to lurch
to one side, came another report, louder than the first, and once more
the water flew in all directions, while this time a heavy cloud of
black smoke arose in the air, mingled with wreckage and the forms of
officers and sailors.
An instant later the battleship gave another lurch, swayed unsteadily
for a moment, and then burst into flames from stem to stern. As the
horrified onlookers gazed at the spectacle the ship swayed again,
turned over on her side, and then, with a strange hissing and roaring,
disappeared beneath the waves, carrying her gallant admiral and over
six hundred officers and sailors with her.
For the time being there was utter confusion in the Russian squadron
and the other vessels scarcely knew what to do. One ship, the
_Poltava_, put out several small boats and succeeded in saving seven
officers, seventy-three sailors, and also the Grand Duke Cyril, who
chanced to be on board.
The Russian squadron was now close to a place of safety, but their
troubles were not yet over. Only a few minutes later, a mine exploded
close to the side of the _Pobieda_, tearing a great hole in the
battleship. But as good fortune would have it, this explosion failed to
set off any of the magazines, as had been the case with the flagship,
and with her bulkheads tightly closed, the crippled vessel managed to
get to her anchorage without further mishaps.
The loss of the great battleship _Petropavlovski_ was a great blow
to Russia, and when the news of the disaster reached that country
everybody went into mourning. Many officers of reputation happened to
be on board of the ship when she sank, and some of the bodies have
never been recovered. It may be mentioned here that the battleship also
had on board the famous Russian artist, Verestchagin, well known the
world over for his war paintings. Just before the first explosion came
he was seen on the deck, sketch-book in hand, making a pencil drawing.
It was his last bit of work, for he went down with the ship.
“That must have been a horrible sight,” said Gilbert, to Ben, when they
were discussing this bit of news. “Think of the hundreds of officers
and sailors that were drowned.”
“It puts me in mind of the sinking of our battleship _Maine_, in Havana
harbor,” returned Ben.
“Somehow, the Russians don’t seem to be able to do a thing on the
water,” went on Gilbert. “They have sunk or disabled a few small
Japanese ships, but that is all, while they have lost some of the very
best warships they possessed.”
“I take it that the Japanese gunners are well trained, Gilbert. They
have sent their young naval officers to America and to Europe to learn
all they possibly could, and being ambitious to make a record they are
doing their level best—while the Russians seem to be satisfied to rest
on laurels gained years ago. If the Czar wants to do anything he has
got to wake up.”
“I see the Japanese warships are keeping right at Port Arthur. The
bombardments must be something terrific.”
“No doubt they are. More than likely some of the residents of that town
wish they were out of it.”
“I’d like to know what has become of that Captain Barusky and Ivan
Snokoff.”
“Barusky likely has his hands full at the port. A sneak like Snokoff
will probably keep as far from danger as he can. Such rascals have no
use for fighting.”
Early the following morning Major Okopa’s command moved forward once
more, along with over four thousand of the Japanese troops, infantry
and artillery. It was an inspiring sight, and despite the bad weather
that had been experienced, and the awful condition of the roads, the
majority of the troops were in good spirits.
“This is like a touch of old times in the Philippines,” observed
Gilbert, as the command swung along through a side road, cut through a
heavy forest. “The jungle isn’t quite as bad, but it is bad enough.”
“Wonder how soon we’ll get to some real fighting,” came from Ben.
“Perhaps before we know it,” answered his chum.
Gilbert was right—the fighting came that very day, just before sundown.
Shots were heard ahead, and soon the advance guard came running back
with the news that a Russian regiment had taken a stand on a small hill
half a mile away.
This news acted like magic on the Japanese soldiers. As tired as they
were from the day’s tramp, and despite the fact that they had had only
a lunch at midday, and wanted their suppers, they set up a ringing
shout, in which the young American officers readily joined.
“Forward!” was the cry, in Japanese, and forward went one command after
another, Major Okopa’s battalion with the rest. The latter was ordered
to move to the left, where some timber had been cut down the season
before, leaving a field that was about half cleared and one studded
with stumps and rocks.
“I see the Russians!” yelled Gilbert presently, and he was right.
Almost at the same moment the enemy opened fire, and two of the
University Corps went down badly wounded.
It was the “baptism of fire,” as it is called by old soldiers, but the
corps stood the shock well. Without wavering it swept along, among the
stumps and rocks until the order came to halt and lie down. From this
position volley after volley was discharged at the Russian infantry,
which was lodged behind a row of trees at the edge of a thick patch of
timber.
“They’ve got an advantage over us,” said Gilbert. “Those trees are a
great protection.”
“Wait until Koshama’s battery gets here,” answered Major Okopa. “It
will make a hornet’s nest of the woods for them.”
The battery was already in position, and soon one of the guns was
brought into play. The havoc along the edge of the timber patch was
terrific, and in consternation the Russians fled.
“Hurrah! they are retreating!” shouted Ben, and leaped up, as did all
those around him. Once more the Japanese soldiers swept forward and in
a few minutes were as deep into the forest as were the Russians. Here
something of a hand-to-hand encounter took place, lasting probably
fifteen minutes.
By this time Gilbert’s fighting blood was thoroughly aroused and
with dreams of victories won in Cuba, Luzon, and in China, he rushed
forward, sword in one hand and pistol in the other. Scarcely had he
covered a distance of fifty yards when he found himself in the midst of
the battle, with several Russians directly in front of him.
It was a moment of peril and nobody could have realized it better than
did the young American captain. He discharged his pistol point-blank
at one of the Russians and saw the fellow go down with a wound in his
side. Then a gun was discharged close to his ear, the bullet fairly
clipping his hair. He turned and with his sword made a lunge at the
shooter, giving him a slight wound in the shoulder. As he did so one of
his own men leaped to the front and shot the Russian through the throat
killing him instantly.
The battle was now a hot one on all sides. But the Russians knew they
could not hold their ground, and they began slowly to retreat over the
top of a hill, where, some days before they had had a battery planted.
But orders had come to take the battery to the north side of the Yalu,
and this order had been obeyed. There was some confusion, and in one
instance twenty Russians were surrounded and taken prisoners. On the
other hand six Japanese were killed and ten badly wounded.
Near the end of the engagement Gilbert found himself at the edge of a
small brook which, some miles away, flowed into the Yalu. Ben’s command
was not far away, and both young Americans were fighting almost side
by side. It was growing dark, so the enemy could be seen only with
difficulty.
“Wonder how long this is going to last?” Gilbert asked himself. “We
shall have to call it off pretty soon.”
These thoughts had just crossed his mind, when without previous
warning, three Russian soldiers came at him in a bunch.
“There is the American!” shouted one, in his native tongue. “Down with
him! Such as he has no right to fight with the Japanese!”
A shot was fired, and Gilbert felt himself struck lightly in the left
arm. Another shot whistled past his face. He tried to dodge to one
side, but hitting a rock, stumbled and fell. Then a Russian lieutenant
saw his plight and leaped forward, sword in hand, to run him through
and through.