Produced by Al Haines
[Illustration: Cover art]
[Frontispiece: "I ALSO DROPPED IN THE BLUE SEA BEHIND HIM." _See page_
121.]
In The Yellow Sea
HENRY FRITH
LONDON
HENRY FROWDE,
HODDER & STOUGHTON
[Illustration: Title page]
PREFACE
Perhaps a few words of explanation as regards this volume may be
permitted. The following extract from a letter, from a relative who
addresses me as "Uncle Harry," will suffice at first. His letter is
dated "Shanghai, November 1897":--
"Here are all the papers, with manuscript. Some of the latter is
translated by a friend, and some is newspaper work. But I daresay you
will be able to work up the matter. Do it as you like best; but don't
give me away, please. You will find some additional information in
Vladmir's work, and in the _Mail_, etc. etc. But I am only sending you
my experiences and adventures. Call them what you like.
"JULIUS."
Here then is the narrative, in which the writer does not spare himself.
He certainly has had adventures by land and sea, between China and
Japan--"'twixt Jack and Jap"--during the late war. I have used his
papers and extracts in the compilation of the story; with gleanings
from _Heroic Japan_ and newspapers, which I have examined, with
history, for my own benefit, and to verify my "nephew's" account of his
adventures during that stirring time in the Far East.
HENRY FRITH.
UPPER TOOTING, S.W.,
_March_ 1898.
CONTENTS
CHAP.
I. A DISAPPOINTMENT--I ESCAPE MY FORETOLD DESTINY--THE
_OSPREY_--THE STORM
II. A TERRIBLE POSITION--A PROPHETIC VISION--SINKING!
III. THE STEAMER _FENG SHUI_, FOR CHINA--CAPTAIN
GOLDHEUGH--DISCIPLINE AND A ROPE'S END!
IV. BOUND TO CHINA--THE VOYAGE AND MY EXPERIENCES--_CASH_ IN HONG
KONG--RUMOUR OF WAR
V. A SECRET MISSION--KIDNAPPED!--THE SCHOONER--THE ASSASSIN
VI. SHANGHAI: ITS IMPRESSIONS--MURDER!--A RESCUE, AND A HAPPY
ENCOUNTER
VII. THE _FENG SHUI_ CHANGES HER NAME FOR LUCK--THE TRANSPORT--THE
JAPANESE MAN-OF-WAR--SURRENDER OF THE _KOWSHING_
VIII. THE END OF THE _FENG SHUI_--CAPTURED AND PRESSED!
IX. THE BATTLE IN THE YELLOW SEA--THE EVIL GENIUS OF "FENG SHUI"
X. A TRANSFORMATION SCENE--I BECOME A "CHINESE"
XI. CHINESE LANGUAGE--"HELD UP"--BETRAYED!
XII. ABANDONED!--I FALL AMONG THIEVES, BUT FIND SOME "GOOD
SAMARITANS"
XIII. KINCHOW--ARRESTED BY CHINESE SOLDIERS--CAPTURE OF THE CITY
XIV. THE SACK OF KINCHOW--RELEASED--"CASTLED"--A CHECK
XV. AN ADVENTURE ON THE HILLS--THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW OF
DEATH--TALIEN-WAN
XVI. PORT ARTHUR--THE MASSACRE IN THE TOWN--RELEASE
XVII. EXPLANATIONS--ON BOARD THE _NANIWA_ AGAIN--THE BLOCKADE OF
WEI-HAI-WEI--ON SERVICE
XVIII. ON BOARD THE TORPEDO-BOAT--BREAKING OF THE BOOM--CAPTURE OF
WEI-HAI-WEI--CONCLUSION
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
I ALSO DROPPED IN THE BLUE SEA BEHIND HIM
(_see p._ 121) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . _Frontispiece_
"THE RAIN'S A-COMIN' THICK"
WE PROCEEDED TO THE CONSULATE
I SAW THE UNLUCKY _FENG SHUI_ PLUNGE DOWN BY THE STERN SUDDENLY
ONE CHINESE VESSEL WAS MOST FEARFULLY PUNISHED
THEY LAUGHED AT THE STONES I THREW AT THEM
THE CHINESE WERE LYING ANYHOW
THE DEED WAS DONE! TORPEDO-BOAT NO. 6 SPED AWAY
IN THE YELLOW SEA
CHAPTER I
A DISAPPOINTMENT--I ESCAPE MY FORETOLD DESTINY--THE _OSPREY_--THE STORM
"There, that settles the matter," said my stepfather irritably. "The
lad's no good for the navy!"
"Why not?" asked my mother, pausing in the act of pouring out the
breakfast tea for me,--my parents preferred coffee.
"Because they say his sight is defective--that's all," replied my
stepfather. "That's a pretty ending to his career!"
Mr. Bentham was a persistent grumbler. I had already remarked that
trait in his disposition, and it annoyed me.
"I am quite sure his eyes are all right," said mother.
"Then perhaps you'll kindly tell the Admiralty so," said my stepfather
("Daddy," I called him). "There's the medical decision. He's been
plucked on sight."
"And _I_ am certain there's nothing the matter," said my mother. "I
will take him to Mr. Jones, an old friend of his. You will find he is
perfectly sound."
"My dear Emily, what is the use of discussing the matter? Julius is
deficient. There's the letter, read it for yourself. It's a great
nuisance. I suppose he'd better go to Granding and Smith's now.
Granding will take him"--
"Granding and Smith's!" I exclaimed suddenly. "To the warehouse in St.
Paul's? Oh, why? I _can't_ go into a shop."
Hitherto I had been silent, but when this terrible fate was presented
to me I spoke out. The very idea of a warehouse was abhorrent to me.
"My dear Julius, you must learn obedience. We have been educating you
for the Royal Navy, you have failed, and"--
"For no fault of his own," interrupted mother quickly.
"My dear, _did_ I say it was for any fault of his? I wish you would
not introduce irrelevant remarks. He has failed to satisfy the
examiners in eyesight, so"--
"I don't believe it!" exclaimed mother firmly.
My stepfather made no reply. He silently folded the report in its
official folds, finished his coffee,--still in silence,--rose quietly,
and deliberately left the room.
"Where are you going, Mark?" asked my mother anxiously.
"To my study, until you have settled the question with the Admiralty,"
he answered satirically, as he closed the door.
We were silent for a while. At length I said timidly--
"Mother, _must_ I go to Granding's? I hate it! Why can't I go to sea?"
"We shall manage something, I daresay, dear," she replied. "I am
afraid your father is vexed about this. He was anxious for you to
succeed, and he is disappointed."
"But, mother, _I_ can't help it if my eyes are bad. They don't look
weak. Shall I go to old Jones, the oculist?"
"We will go by and by; meantime, let me see your father. I am sure
Granding's warehouse will not suit you. The confinement will be most
trying to your disposition. There may be some mistake about your
eyesight; though I fear, even if so, it cannot be amended. Wait here
until I return. Ring the bell, and tell Ellen to clear the breakfast
things away, dear."
My loving mother left the breakfast-room, and I seated myself at the
window to await her return. I was very much upset,--savage, in
fact,--and considered that the doctors had spun me on purpose. My eyes
were perfectly sound, I knew, at least I thought I knew, and it was
"favouritism." I had heard of such a thing; and the medical board
were, in my angry estimation, stupid! There was nothing the matter!
When my mother returned to the breakfast-room she found me silent and
cross. The idea of giving up all my wishes for the navy, just because
a doctor chose to say my eyes were not sound, was absurd! But even
then I could not help myself; and, however ridiculous I fancied the
decision to be, I was compelled to accept it. I had failed! The
medical gentlemen--one, rather--had decided against me. I was most
indignant, and inclined to be sulky, when mother had explained all this
to me. For some days I was greatly upset, and went about "like a bear
with a sore head."
Perhaps I had better not dwell upon that period during which, I now
must confess, I behaved badly. My parents were most kind and
indulgent. They perceived my disappointment, and made allowances for
me in all ways, including pocket-money. They did not worry me, but let
me find my level while openly discussing the question of my prospects.
During these weeks I continued my boating and sailing trips. I was
well known on the beach; the sailors, with a tender regard for me and
my pocket,--which they did not wish to see either too heavy or too
light,--indulged me to the top of my bent; and I believe had I
suggested a voyage to France, or the Channel Isles, old Murry and his
son Tim would have carried me off in their boat, which I called a
"yacht" when describing her.
The _Osprey_ was a tidy little "ship," and many a splendid sail we had.
I had already learned a good deal respecting ships and shipping, could
handle a boat, and steer fairly well. Thus weeks passed. I grew a
tall lad; my face was browned by sun and sea, and I quite forgot
business,--had even been reconciled to my disappointment as regards the
navy, and was repairing my eyesight. Alas! I was just too old for the
service then, and my stepfather began to make some arrangements for my
future.
I heard the names of Granding and Smith of St. Paul's mentioned, and
shuddered. A counting-house and confinement in place of liberty and
fresh air! What had I done to deserve this prison fate? It was not my
fault that my eyes had been weak; and even mother had thought that
"business" was not suited to me. But the blow fell!
The decision had evidently been made. My fate was fixed. I began to
be restless, but made no inquiry, and kept away from home as much as
possible. But one day, late in summer, the hammer fell upon my
"lot"--I was knocked down to the drapers!
Mother came in and told me my fate. "Daddy" had determined it! It was
Granding and Smith, or a local bank,--I was generously permitted to
take my choice.
Then I arose in wrath, and made some unkind, not to say rude, remarks
concerning my stepfather and Granding and Smith. Naval surgeons and
examiners also "caught it," and, indeed, my expressions pained my fond
mother deeply. Till I had apologised for my violence she declined any
assistance on my behalf in future.
Of course, I said I was "sorry," and kissed her penitently. She
perceived my repentance was sincere, and forgave me.
"Run away now, Julius, there's a good boy. Take a boat, and sail about
until this ill-feeling has subsided. Your father only means it for
your good, remember that."
"Yes, I daresay he _means_ all right, mother, but that does _me_ no
good! I want to go to sea--I mean in the navy--and I shall do no good
any other way, I tell you plainly!"
"My dear boy, that is just nonsense! You have plenty of ability, and
will, in time, be very glad to reflect that you were induced to go into
business. Business is really the best career, your father says."
"_You_ said it wouldn't suit me, and I know it wouldn't!"
"My dear Julius, your father thinks it best for you."
"_He_ isn't my father, and I _won't_ go to Granding. There!"
With this defiance I rushed from the room, took my straw hat, and
hurried away into the bright warm sunlight in search of the sea.
I had not far to travel. We lived then within two miles of the
Channel, and close to a tiny station, at which a few branch trains
stopped during the day. Perceiving that one of these tiny trains was
approaching, I hastened on and caught it. In five minutes afterwards I
was crunching the shingle, near the boats, on the beach. Several
boatmen accosted me; I knew them well. They humoured me,--I liked them.
"Mornin', sir! Fine mornin' for a sail," said Murry, a queer, old,
weather-beaten salt, who had served in the merchant marine. "Goin'
out, sir?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied shortly. "How's the tide?"
"Young gentleman's arskin' for the tide, Tim," remarked another salted
fellow. "As if he wasn't a sailor now!"
"I am no sailor," I replied savagely. "I'm plucked!"
"Plucked! What d'ye mean? Thrown overboard? Who's been pullin' your
leg, sir?"
"It's true. My eyes are bad, the doctor says," I muttered. "He's an
ass."
"Your eyes bad? Well, that beats! Why, I wish I'd one o' them at your
age! It's a mistake, whoever said it, I say that much."
"Well, anyway, I'm not to be a sailor--not in the navy, anyhow.
Perhaps never at all. But let's shut it up. Where's the boat?"
"Yonder she swims," said Murry. "Ye can go where ye like to-day, if
you're not venturesome too much."
"Why, do you expect a storm?" I asked, looking at the blue above.
"Well, I wouldn't say it mightn't squall a bit. There's thun'er about
too. Better take a hand with ye."
"Better take a second hand," added Tim; "them mare's tails is
subspicious. How far d'ye think o' goin'?"
"Round Ratcham Head, and away to Greystones. I suppose we can fetch
that?"
"Ay, ay; tide's makin', and we can come back with a flowin' sheet agin'
it, proper. Here's my lad, Tim; he can go for the prog. Suppose
you'll want somethin'?"
"Of course. Here's the money. Get anything you like, and some beer.
Look slippy, Tim. Come back as soon as you can."
Tim touched his cap, took the money, and set off rapidly in the
direction of the main street--the only one--of Beachmouth, which was
then a small, almost unknown, watering-place. Now it is growing
rapidly. Our house and grounds have already been purchased for
building purposes, and in the few years which have elapsed since my
disappointment the changes have been many and various.
I waited with impatience for Tim's return. The sea was calm. The
breeze, which was off-shore, was gentle from the north-west, westing,
and the sky was deep blue, with a haze hanging about, indicative of
heat in the future hours. The distant vessels--not steamers--were
lazily dipping in the offing, not making much way, but still
progressing, so we could hope for a breeze outside.
The dirty, chalky cliff sheltered us, and accentuated the rays of the
sun, which, reflected from the water, burned and blistered us that
summer more than usual, but as I was so much on the sea perhaps I felt
it more then. At anyrate, that August day I felt the heat greatly, and
became impatient for Tim's return with the "grub," so that we might get
away, and sail down Channel, away into the west perhaps.
After what seemed an hour, but was really twenty minutes, we sighted
Tim carrying a parcel and a jar, three tumblers being hung around his
neck, and his jacket pockets bulging. One glance satisfied me, and I
called to Murry to come along.
"I'm a-comin'! I'm a-comin'! We'm goin' alongside in Bill's skiff, ye
know. The boat's all ready--ballast and all. Don't ye worrit
yourself, Mister Jule; Tim's comin' on, hand over hand."
Tim was certainly very warm when he stepped into the small boat, and
when he was seated old Murry sculled us over to the _Osprey_, a small
"yacht," if one may say so--a fore and aft sailing-boat, boasting a
little recess which was covered by a hatch, and called the cabin.
There was room for ten or twelve people, and she could accommodate
more. She carried the usual fore and aft sails, with a mizzen, and
sailed very fast. In fact, she was a rather smart boat, and easily
handled, being stiff and strong, with pretty lines; she looked smaller
than she really was because of her fine shape and slender appearance.
The _Osprey_ could stand rough weather, as I well knew, and when we
hauled up the mainsail, and set the jib and foresail, I felt happy for
the first time that day.
"Here's the change," said Tim, handing me a small sum, in which
sixpence shone proudly in a nest of coppers.
"Pouch it, Tim, please. Now, Murry, what's the course, eh?"
"Well, I should say, keep her close hauled myself. Keep your luff,
sir, that's what it is, and then you'll have all your run back. But as
you like."
"I want to make Greystones, though," I said, as I glanced ahead.
"Well, ye can tack in. Ye see, it's this way: the tide's agin' ye, and
when ye weather the Ratcham ye'll want all the luff ye can find to
fetch Greystones this wind, anyway--and it's a squally bit down that
gully."
"Yes, that's true; but we can fetch in. So you think I'm a sailor,
Murry?" I continued, referring to our previous talk.
"That ye be," he said. "Eyes, indeed! as if ye couldn't see like a
cat. Why, I've see ye make out the rig of a coaster when Tim couldn't,
and he's been at sea since afore you come."
"How old is Tim?" I asked, with my despised eyes watching ahead.
"Why, about your age, I should say. Fifteen, ain't it?" he shouted to
his son.
"Fifteen what?" called back the lad, from forward behind the jib.
"Years, ye donkey-foal!" replied his father. "Your age, I says."
"You oughter know, _dad_! But I believe I'm thereabouts. What
then--what of it?"
"Nothin'--don't you think it," was the reply. "Mind you keep your eyes
to windward, seems a change like."
"I've been thinking o' that cloud yonder, dad; seems like to spread.
What d'ye think o' standin' in a bit?"
"Nonsense!" I exclaimed sharply. "We can't weather the point if we
keep in. As it is the tide seems sucking us into the cliffs."
"There's no call for hurry," said Murry. "But when ye can lay a point
inside--well, half a point--do it. The sky's getting kind o' hazy."
We had run well down the coast, slipping over the small waves, and
darting merrily along. The boat was sailing well up in the wind, close
hauled; and every now and then, with all my care, I could not prevent
the sail shaking a bit. This back lift required me to keep away
farther out, and then we found the wind coming more abeam, and fresher
at times. Again it died away, and luffed up once more.
All this time the sun was blazing hot, like a furnace heat in its
effects. Even the wind was warm, and appeared as if from a stove-pipe.
It was nearly midday, and the heat was tremendous. So I suggested
lunch.
"Suppose we stand out a while, Murry, and pipe to dinner."
"Ay, ay," he replied, with a grin at my assumption of phrase. "It's
eight bells, ain't it? Then make it so!"
"We don't want any 'observations,' Murry, I think," said I, smiling.
"No, sir; I ain't going to offer any except 'Hands, splice the
mainbrace!'"
Tim laughed, and handed out the beer jar, and a quantity of slices of
beef and bacon, some bread and condiments, pickled onions in a bottle,
and a huge piece of strong cheese. Altogether it was a splendid
dinner, and we fell to, lying gently over to the wind, and enjoyed the
fare, the "ship" almost steering herself.
"Well, that's good catering, Tim. I think you are a splendid steward
for a small craft," I said, after an interval, during which our
attentions had been directed to the thwarts, on which our food was
spread. "Now I think we may clear up, and keep our course."
"The weather don't seem so willing to clear up, though," said Murry.
"That big, black cloud is sailing up hand over fist. That's a thun'er
squall, sir, and we'd better reef the mainsail."
"For a summer squall like that!" I exclaimed. "Why, we shall be under
shelter of the cliff before it comes up; and its coming off shore, you
see, not on shore."
"Exactly," replied Murry, rising. "Bear a hand, Tim, my lad. Get in a
couple of reefs. Lower the foresail afore ye come aft."
"Oh, come, Murry! I believe you're frightened. Why, it's only a puff
off shore, anyway."
"That's just it, sir. Tie them reefs, Tim, smart. The squall will
catch us out here unless ye luff up, Mister Jule."
"I am luffing up all I can," I replied. "The beastly ship won't stand
up to it, somehow! What's the matter?"
"It's the thun'er in the air does it. Ye see the breeze is backin' and
fillin'. Give me the tiller, and go ye forward with Tim. Now, just be
easy."
Murry did not often interfere with my sailing, and, therefore, I made
no further objection to vacate the post of honour. He loosed the
sheet, and held it in his left hand while steering the boat. Ever and
anon he cast a glance above the cliff in the direction of which we were
running obliquely to save all possible wind, but we did not make so
much headway, as we wished to reach beneath the point of Ratcham Head
for shelter.
"There she comes," cried Tim. "What a black 'un! Whiz! that's
lightnin', sure."
"Yes, certainly. We're in for it, I think," I replied.
"Father don't like it, I can see. He's allus skeered in a big storm.
Mother, she was struck that-a-way," he whispered.
"How dreadful! In a boat you mean?"
"In this very boat it was. They was out lookin' after nets. Father he
was stoopin' forrad, a'most in the water, and mother she was steerin',
when _smack_ come the lightnin' and kill her stone dead, settin' up
like a statoo, she was; and when father shouted at her to keep up, she
set, and set, until he went on savage, and then found her struck.
There it is again!"
It was! Behind the cliff, which showed up whiter than ever, an immense
bank of cloud was extended as far as we could see landwards, but only
occupying a portion of the sky on both sides. To east, west, and south
the horizon was clear, but great hanging tendrils were seeking to grip
the blue below, and were curling up and retreating or advancing by
turns; but apparently also always gaining ground, though the movement
of the mass was imperceptible to us. Nevertheless, the blackness
increased, and at length the rumbling of the thunder became distinctly
audible.
The wind rose, and came rushing across the waters, taking up the little
waves in spin-drift, and indicating a bad quarter of an hour for any
craft caught unprepared. The boat's head was necessarily put more
west, and so, with the wind more on the beam, the rate of sailing
increased. The clouds came up steadily, the wind began to bluster
suddenly, and to roughen the edges of the waves more and more.
The old fisherman hauled on the sheet, and sat over more to the weather
side. He made no remark for a few minutes, then he cried--
"Get in under the hatch there, forward, and haul a tarpaulin over ye.
The rain's a-comin' thick. Hear that!"
[Illustration: "THE RAIN'S A-COMIN' THICK"]
A tremendous burst of thunder came crashing upon our bowed heads as it
seemed. Tim routed out a tarpaulin, and he and I rolled each other in
it. It was a covering for the sails, which the old man used at times
much to his friends' amusement. However, on this occasion we did not
complain, for the rain, and, I fancied, even hail, came down with
fearful force, and ran out of the lee scuppers, though with difficulty
it escaped.
Notwithstanding all our protection we were getting wet. The wind rose,
the thunder roared, the lightning flashed past us, the little yacht
bounded and dipped. At length a fearful burst of flame struck us, and
we actually screamed in terror.
Then the next moment the wind caught the sail, and flapped it with a
terrible noise which mingled with the thunder. The boat careened over,
righted, and flew before the wind like a frightened gull. I felt Tim
rise, and go astern; I heard a cry of pain and anguish. Then I
subsided upon the seething deck blinded and helpless!