CHAPTER II

We reached Tientsin without further mishap, and turned over our cargo

to Mr. H----'s agent, who disposed of it at a handsome profit, though

hardly sufficient, I thought, to warrant the risking of so valuable a

ship as the _Columbia_. We lay in the port about a week, to effect

the repairs rendered necessary by the Japanese gun practice.

At Tientsin a war council was sitting, and one morning Mr. Mac----, the

agent, came on board and informed us that he had received a

proposal for the _Columbia_ to be chartered as a transport to convey

troops to the Corea. It was only, he said, for an immediate special

service, and the terms being exceedingly advantageous he had resolved

on his own responsibility to accept the offer, as the work would not

occupy us more than a few days. We were to be one of a convoy of

transports which, sailing at different times from different ports,

were to rendezvous in Talienwan Bay on the east coast of the Liaotung

Peninsula, where the troops were to be embarked under protection of

an armed squadron. There was no time to be lost, and we were to weigh

anchor and make for the bay as soon as possible.

On the afternoon of the same day two Chinese emissaries came to make a

visit of inspection, and in the evening we steamed out of the port,

flying the American colours, with nothing of course to fear at the

moment. On arriving at Talienwan we found the bay full of shipping.

Four large transports were already engaged in the work of embarkation,

and another arrived after we did. The warships presented a gallant

array, twelve in all, belonging, with two or three exceptions, to the

North Coast Squadron. There were four torpedo-boats in addition. The

most powerful vessels were the _Chen-Yuen_ and the _Ting-Yuen_,

barbette ships, English-built, I think, of 7280 tons. The _King-Yuen_

and _Lai-Yuen_ were two barbette ships of smaller tonnage--2850. Then

came the _Ping-Yuen_, of 2850 tons, a coast-defence armour-clad; a

turret-ship, the _Tsi-Yuen_, of 2320 tons; the _Chih-Yuen_,

_Ching-Yuen_, _Kwang-Kai_ and _Kwang-Ting_, all of 2300

tons, deck-protected cruisers; and the _Chao-Yung_ and

_Yang-Wei_, each of 1400 tons, unprotected cruisers.

I have forgotten to say that we took a Chinese agent on board at

Tientsin for the trip. He was alleged to be able to speak English,

but rarely indeed was his jargon intelligible. I asked him to

translate the names of the Chinese warships, but this was a task far

beyond the linguistic capacity of my friend Lin Wong. I understood him

to say that it would require "too muchee words" to render in our

prosaic tongue the amount of poetic imagery concentrated in the

expressions "Chih-Yuen," or "Kwang-Kai." Of what the names mean I am

in ignorance still.

We were speedily boarded by a boat from the flagship, to the officer

of which Lin Wong gave an account of his stewardship, and we received

directions to draw up to the landing-stage in turn and receive our

human freight. The troops were still arriving from the roads to Talien

and Kinchou. They seemed for the most part an undisciplined lot, and

came streaming on board in no particular order; here and there a

mounted officer directing with shouts, gestures, and blows too, the

movements of the surging masses that crowded along the water-side. The

number embarked I reckoned at about 18,000. There was also a large

quantity of military stores to be shipped, and busy enough we were. In

the evening I had a glimpse of Admiral Ting, who had been ashore and

was returning to his ship. His barge passed close alongside the

_Columbia_. I saw a young-looking man, very pleasant in expression

and manner; altogether what we should call highly gentlemanly in

appearance. It is well known that he expiated his failures by suicide

after the final ruin of Wei-hai-wei.

All was complete on the second day after our arrival, and shortly

before noon the flagship signalled us to weigh anchor. I may remark

that the Chinese Navy is English trained, and the duty is carried on

in English, owing to the intractable character of the Chinese

language, the fact that officers and men have thus practically to

learn a foreign tongue in order to work their ships being an obvious

disadvantage. The transports were grouped together and the warships

disposed in sections abreast and ahead, with the active torpedo-boats

in the rear. Our destination was the estuary of the Yalu, the large

river which divides China from the Corea. We left Talienwan on

September 14, and reached the river on the afternoon of the 16th. The

work of disembarkation commenced immediately, although rumours reached

us from Wi-ju of the disastrous defeat of the first Chinese army at

Ping-Yang in the Corea the day before. It illustrates the ridiculous

inefficiency of the Chinese measures from first to last, that troops

should thus have been landed at hap-hazard far from any point of

communication with the interior of the Peninsula, the very day after

an action which extinguished their prospect of maintaining their

ground in the Corea.

The warships anchored across the mouth of the river, whilst the

transports proceeded some distance up the stream. Wi-ju is the only

settlement of any size in this little-known region, though there are

numerous fishing-hamlets scattered about. The soldiers improvised

their camps along the bank. A wild scene was presented when night fell

on the 16th--the glare of the bivouac, extending far along the

desolate water-side; the concourse of savage figures in the lurid

gloom, with here and there in the distance the gigantic shape of an

illuminated warship. We worked well into the night, and were at it

again when the sun rose--a glorious sunrise, pouring over everything

floods of crimson splendour.

The first accounts which reached England of the action miscalled the

battle of Yalu, categorically stated that it was fought off the mouth

of the river whilst the work of landing the soldiers was proceeding.

This story I fancy to have been invented by the Chinese as a sort of

excuse for their defeat, by representing themselves as fighting at a

great disadvantage in covering the disembarkation. However this may

be, the fact is that the work was completed by about seven o'clock on

the morning of the 17th, when no enemy was in sight. When the

_Columbia_ weighed and stood out of the river, after breakfast, about

nine o'clock, we found that the main body of the fleet had departed,

though three or four cruisers and the torpedo-boats still remained in

the bay. We and the other transport masters had received an intimation

that we were at liberty to return to our respective ports upon the

conclusion of the work of disembarkation. As to the _Columbia_, Chubb

had had instructions from Mr. H----'s agent to make straight from the

Yalu to San Francisco, report to our owner, and take his further

orders. We had, however, to deal with the Chinese supercargo, if I may

so term him, Lin Wong, who still remained on board, and wanted to be

re-conveyed to the Gulf of Pechili. We proposed to put him on board

one of the warships, but as they were already under weigh when we

steamed down, there was no immediate opportunity of doing so. They

were following in the wake of the main squadron towards Port Arthur,

steering south by west from the mouth of the river. We held on with

them, only one other transport ship doing the same.

For three hours we steamed on thus, at about twelve knots. Towards

noon we saw dense smoke all along the horizon ahead, and a heavy,

dull, rumbling sound reached us which soon made itself unmistakable

as the roar of artillery. We immediately guessed that the squadron

preceding us had been attacked by the enemy. Our escort, if I may so

term it, drew inshore, and I at first thought from their demeanour

that they were going to shirk entering the engagement. If such was

their intention, however, they changed it, and stood boldly on with

the torpedo-boats. We came to a stop, undecided how to proceed. The

other transport which had accompanied us was already in full retreat,

and Lin Wong, in whom discretion seemed very unduly proportioned to

valour, advised a similar course on our part. Chubb and I, however,

felt a strong desire to see the fight, and as we were not now under

the Chinese flag, there seemed no reason why we should not stay to

witness it, particularly as there was no need to let the _Columbia_

be seen.

We therefore, in spite of the unintelligible protests of Lin Wong,

cast anchor, having hoisted American colours, in one of the numerous

bays that indent the rocky coast of the Liaotung. Then Chubb and

myself, leaving Webster in charge, pulled off in a small boat towards

the scene of action. We kept close to the shore, and had about a mile

and a half to pull before we came abreast of the conflict. With its

deepening thunders bellowing in our deafened ears, we landed where the

ground was high, and ascending the most elevated point we could

perceive, had, with the aid of powerful glasses, a good view of the

scene. Terrific indeed it was--a wide, dense pall of smoke, which

there was little wind to carry off; through the haze the huge reeling

shapes of the fighting vessels, looming indistinctly, vomiting flame

like so many angry dragons, and several of them burning in addition,

having been set on fire by shells; and above all the appalling

concussion of the great guns, like the bursting of incessant

thunder-bolts.

By this time it was half-past two p.m., and the battle had been in

progress nearly three hours. Not having seen the commencement of the

affair, we were for some time unable to make head or tail of it. The

ships were mixed up and scattered, and we could perceive little sign

of plan or combination on either side. The first thing that began to

make itself evident as we watched was that the struggle was nearing

the coast. At first the nearest ships had been fully a league and a

half seaward; before we had occupied our position three-quarters of an

hour, many were well within two miles of the coast. So evident was

this that Chubb remarked that half of them would be ashore before the

fighting was over. This of course enabled us to distinguish the

vessels better, and we began to make out evident signs that John

Chinaman was getting much the worst of it. The Japanese vessels,

working in concert and keeping together, as we began to perceive,

seemed to sail round and round the enemy, pouring on them an incessant

cannonade, and excelling them in rapidity of fire and manoeuvring.

Some of the Chinese vessels appeared to me to present an appearance of

helplessness, and there was no indication of combination as amongst

their opponents. Not but what they blazed away valiantly enough, and

some of them had evidently given as good as they got, for more than

one Japanese vessel was in flames. Of course we could not identify

these ships, but we could make out that in numbers and armament they

were a fair match for the Chinese squadron. They appeared to pay

special attention to the two great Chinese ironclads, the _Chen-Yuen_

and _Ting-Yuen_, one of which at least had had her big guns, 37-ton

Krupps, silenced, though still contributing to the entertainment with

the quick-firing armament. Shortly after three, the _King-Yuen_, fired

by shells, began to burn fiercely; she showed through the smoke like a

mass of flame, and was evidently sinking, settling down on an even

keel. Three or four of the enemy circled round, plying her with shot

and shell. Finally, with a plunge she disappeared, and the immediate

darkening, as the smoke-clouds rolled in where the fierce blaze of

the burning wreck had been, was like the sudden drawing of a veil

over the spot where hundreds of men had met their simultaneous doom.

The cannonade slackened, but soon broke out again fiercely as ever.

About this time it seemed as if the Japanese flagship, _Matshushima_,

was about to share the same fate. She looked all in a blaze forward.

The fire, however, was got under, and later on she was taken out of

the action.

Meanwhile the Chinese ships had been forced still nearer to the land,

and the _Chao-Yung_, an absolute ruin, drifted helplessly ashore,

half a league from where we stood. By the aid of our glasses we could

perceive her condition clearly--her upper works knocked to pieces; her

decks, strewn with mutilated bodies, an indiscriminate mass of wreck

and carnage. Her crew were abandoning her, struggling to land as best

they could. Subsequently the _Yang-Wei_ went ashore similarly battered

to pieces and burning. She was much further off, and we made her out

less distinctly. On the Japanese side not one ship had sunk as far as

we had seen, and though the flagship and some of the smaller craft

were in an unenviable state, the attack was kept up with immense

spirit, and prompt obedience was paid to signals, which were frequent,

whereas we looked in vain for any sign of leadership on the part of

the Celestials. Later in the action another of their best ships, the

_Chih-Yuen_, came to grief. She had evidently been for long in

difficulties, labouring heavily, with the steam-pumps constantly in

requisition, as we could tell by the streams of water poured from her

sides. Bravely she fought on unsupported, and her upper deck and top

guns were served until she sank. At length her bows were completely

engulfed; the stern rose high out of water, disclosing the whirling

propellers, and bit by bit she disappeared. We could hear distinctly

the yelling sounds of triumph that rose from the Japanese ships as she

went down. The _Chen-Yuen_ and _Ting-Yuen_, which seemed to

fight together during the action, tried when too late to assist her.

At five o'clock, as darkness came on, the firing rapidly decreased,

and the opposing squadrons began to separate. Some of the Chinese

vessels were out of sight in the gloom to the southward, and the

Japanese slowly drew off seaward. We thought it now high time to

regain the _Columbia_, and took to our boat, discussing the fight and

speculating on the probable renewal of it. We felt little surprise

that the Chinese should have had the worst of it, for we had had good

reason to suspect that their fleet had greatly fallen off from the

state of unquestionable efficiency to which English tuition had

brought it. Whilst ashore in Talienwan I had a conversation with Mr.

Purvis, an English engineer on board the _Chih-Yuen_. I asked him what

he thought would be the result of an encounter with an equal Japanese

force. He said the Chinese would have a good chance if well handled,

expressing on that head distinct doubts.

"They are very brave," said he--and I can answer for it that there was

no perceptible flinching on their part during the action--"and I

believe Ting to be a good man, but he is under the thumb of Von

Hannecken"--meaning Captain or Major Von Hannecken, a German _army_

officer, one of the foreign volunteers in the fleet. The significance

of the remark is apparent when we consider the statements made to the

effect that it was he who was really in command on the day of the

engagement, Admiral Ting deferring to his suggestions. I am in no

position to affirm whether this is really the truth or not, but if it

be indeed the fact, it cannot be held to be astonishing that disaster

should have overtaken a fleet manoeuvred by a _soldier_! I recollect

that Mr. Purvis also informed me that the boilers of two or three of

the vessels (instancing the destroyed _Chao-Yung_) were worn-out and

unfit for service. Laxity of discipline, too, seems to have resulted

in disobedience or disregard of orders. As an instance of this, it is

alleged that instructions telegraphed from the conning-tower of the

flagship were varied or suppressed by the officer at the telegraph,

and that a subsequent comparison of notes with the engineer afforded

proof of this.

I was forcibly struck by the comparatively unimportant part played in

this action by that "dark horse" of modern naval warfare, the dreaded

and much-discussed torpedo. Both squadrons had several torpedo-boats

present, though, as I have shown, those on the Chinese side did not

enter the action until it had been proceeding more than an hour. The

Japanese allege that they did not use the torpedo at all during the

action, and however this may be, there is nothing to show that the

weapon made on either side a single effective hit. I drew the

impression from what I saw, that it would be apt to be ineffectual as

used by one ship against another, an antagonist in the evolutions of

the combat, as the prospect of hitting, unless the ships were very

close together, would be small. The specially-built boat, running

close in, and making sure of the mark, would of course be dangerous,

although the storm of shot from the quick-firing guns ought even in

that case to be a tolerably adequate protection. The torpedo

undoubtedly was not given a fair chance at the battle of Yalu, but the

result seems to indicate that its terrors have been overrated, that

artillery must still be reckoned the backbone of naval warfare.

Probably the torpedo will turn out to be most effective in surprise

attacks on ships and fleets at anchor. The experience of Wei-hai-wei

seems to point to this.

Under the dragon flag · 第 2 / 7 章