It was not until nearly a fortnight later that the full results of the
battle of Tsushima became known; then, tabulating the intelligence that
came to hand from various points, we were at last in a position to
realise the surprising character of the Japanese Navy's achievement.
Briefly and baldly summarised, it amounted to this: Of the eleven
Russian battleships which went into action on that memorable 27th May,
four were captured, while the remaining seven were sunk. Of nine
cruisers, five were sunk. Of nine auxiliary cruisers, four were sunk
and one was captured; while, of nine destroyers, one, the _Biedovy_, was
captured with Admiral Rojdestvensky, seriously wounded, on board, and
four were sunk. Twenty-six of the thirty-eight craft which composed the
much-vaunted Baltic Fleet were thus accounted for. Of the remaining
twelve, three--the small cruiser _Almaz_ and the _Grosny_ and _Bravy_,
destroyers, succeeded in making their way to Vladivostock, while the
remainder escaped to Manilla, Shanghai, and Madagascar, where--with the
exception of the auxiliary cruiser _Anadyr_, at Madagascar--they were
duly disarmed and interned.
I had fully made up my mind that with the destruction of the Russian
Baltic Fleet the war must of necessity come to an end. But I was
mistaken; no overtures of peace were made by Russia, and it was not to
be expected that, after her signal triumphs on land and sea, Japan would
jeopardise her prospects of securing a satisfactory settlement by being
the first to open negotiations; therefore, in pursuance of their land
campaign, it was decided to attack the Russians from the north by way of
the great river Amur, which the Japanese had ascertained was navigable
by light-draught vessels for at least a thousand miles during the late
spring, when the thaw and the spring rains caused the river to run full.
But in order to utilise the Amur it was imperatively necessary that
Japan should have control of the island of Sakhalin; accordingly, on
24th June a fleet of warships, under Admirals Kataoka and Dewa,
assembled at Yokohama, from whence a few days later they sailed,
convoying a fleet of transports, aboard which were one of the newly
raised army divisions, under the command of General Haraguchi.
My ship, the _Yakumo_, was one of the warships detailed for this
expedition, and naturally I went with her. Space does not permit of my
giving the details of this expedition, which was not at all of an
eventful character; suffice it to say that it attained its object,
Sakhalin becoming ours on 31st July 1905.
Meanwhile, however, after the result of the battle of Tsushima became
known, President Roosevelt decided that the time had arrived when the
friendly intervention of a perfectly disinterested Power, such as the
United States of America, might be welcome to both belligerents;
accordingly, on 8th June, he opened negotiations by dispatching an
identical Note to the Emperor of Japan and the Tsar of Russia, offering
his services as mediator. His offer was accepted by both; and on 9th
August the plenipotentiaries of the two nations met at Portsmouth, in
New Hampshire, U.S.A. The negotiations were of a protracted nature, and
were several times in danger of falling through in consequence of the
uncompromising attitude of Russia's representatives. Ultimately,
however, thanks to President Roosevelt's masterly diplomacy and the
conciliatory spirit of the Japanese, an agreement was arrived at, and
the Treaty of Peace between Japan and Russia was signed on 5th September
1905.
Of the terms of the treaty it is not necessary for me to speak here,
since they in nowise affect the fortunes of the present historian. The
conclusion of the treaty, however, of course put a stop to all
hostilities on both sides; and the end of September found me and my ship
back in Sasebo, where the latter, among other ships, was paid off.
Previous to the paying-off, however, Togo had sent for me, and at the
interview which followed, inquired most solicitously what were my plans
for the future, at the same time assuring me that if I cared to remain
in the service of Japan I might absolutely rely upon continuous
employment and further promotion. I had, however, long before this
quite made up my mind as to the course of action I would pursue upon the
conclusion of the war; namely, to return to England and endeavour to
secure my rehabilitation in the British naval service, and I explained
this to him at length. When he had heard all that I had to say, he
admitted that what I had decided upon was undoubtedly the right thing to
do. Then, learning that I proposed to return home by way of San
Francisco and New York, he dismissed me for the time being, only to
inform me, two days later, that, learning I was about to resign my
commission as Captain in the Japanese Navy, the Emperor had expressed a
desire to see me prior to my departure from his dominions, in order that
he might personally thank me for the services I had rendered to Japan.
The interview took place four days later, in the Imperial Palace at
Tokio, with most satisfactory results, so far as I was concerned; for
His Majesty, after making the most flattering references to my
services--full particulars of which he seemed to have at his fingers'
ends--was graciously pleased to decorate me with the Star of the Grand
Order of the Rising Sun, and to present me with a magnificent naval
sword, the hilt of which and the mountings of the sheath being of solid
gold, exquisitely worked.
The afternoon of the first Sunday in December witnessed my arrival in
the Mersey; and somewhat late the same night I found myself once more in
London.
I was, of course, anxious to see Uncle Bob and Aunt Betsy again without
delay; but, being in London, I could not deny myself the pleasure of
calling upon my friends the Gordons. In the first place I paid my
respects to Sir Robert at his office. As it chanced, he was so
overwhelmingly busy that he could only spare me a bare ten minutes of
his time, just to welcome me home again and insist upon my dining with
him and his wife that evening. I did so, and received such a welcome as
went far to compensate me for many a lonely hour among the storms and
fogs and bitter cold of the Japan and Yellow Seas. To my amazement, I
then learned that my name had become tolerably familiar to such Britons
as had been taking more than a merely superficial interest in the
progress of the Russo-Japanese War, some kindly-disposed newspaper
correspondent having kept the British public pretty well posted as to my
doings. The result of this, I was informed, was that, in the event of
my choosing to make application for restoration to my former position in
the British Navy, the authorities would undoubtedly be willing to regard
such application with considerable favour.
This I soon afterwards found to be true; for although there were several
formalities to go through, while the onus of proving my innocence of the
charge which brought about my dismissal rested entirely upon me, I had
no sooner done this than I received the intimation that the Lords
Commissioners of the Admiralty, having given due consideration to my
representations, had been pleased to reinstate me as Midshipman in the
British Navy!
It was not long, however, before I received my commission as
Sub-Lieutenant; and now I am a full-blown Commander aboard a
super-Dreadnought, eagerly looking forward to the dawn of a certain Day
which, unless appearances are curiously deceptive, cannot be very far
distant.