In the Yellow Sea

The day was beautifully fine, with a calm, almost quiet, blue sea, over which twenty vessels at least were approaching each other. In the arrangements I was in a measure overlooked, and kept out of sight of the officers as much as possible, watching ahead. All the ships had cleared for action and beat to quarters. Eight bells, – noon.

There's a signal! I wondered what it meant, but I soon saw the object of it. The flagship Matsushima was quickly making the arrangements, and our ship, with three others, was commanded to proceed to attack the Chinese. These "flyers" steamed ahead, the Yoshino in advance, against the great Chinese ironclads, ten or twelve immense vessels, of different sizes and speed, like the Japanese, but two of the Chinese ships, named Lai-yuen and Ching-yuen, came first, the rest extending behind them like wildfowl.

As the four Japanese vessels went on they did not fire. Then a most fearful roar arose in front, a mile off, and the sea became alive with spray and jets of water.

"Shell-fire," whispered my friend as he passed, carrying an order below astern. Shells! I had heard of shell-firing, but never had expected to see it. The sea was torn up all around the Japanese as they steamed swiftly on, but certainly our vessel was not hit, and I did not see any man touched.

But soon after all the vessels began, and such a fearful din and such a pall of smoke it is impossible to describe properly. The concussion of the big guns deafened me, the spitting of the smaller ones irritated me; and yet we passed the enemy with little damage to the Naniwa, and without a single casualty amid the crew. If anyone had told me at the time that the ship would escape serious injury I would have derided him.

Now, how shall I describe this naval battle, as I am not one of those wonderful correspondents who see everything at once, and that amid the smoke and thunder and crashing of shot and guns and shells, 'mid the shouts and cries of victory and the shrieks of the dying, or the more ghastly wounded? I could see the other ships coming up behind us in our wake, the Naniwa was the last ship of the leading squadron, and the Chinese phalanx advanced, firing steadily and punishing us. I heard fearful thuds and crashes beside me, and saw, amid the white and murky smoke of the guns, flames shooting up and flashes from the broadsides and tops of our opponents.

I sheltered myself as much as possible, and waited while the heavy smoke drifted away slowly. We could see signals above it, astern, from the flagship, and I was thankful when our speed carried us on beyond the Chinese vessels, though the din and the smoke became more fearful each moment. I had no real idea, or rather had no idea of the reality, of war. I had read of sailors seeing cannon-shot coming towards them, and of others ducking before shells; but I saw no missiles, and, until I saw the result, did not know where to look for them.

After passing the Chinese ships, and firing like demons until the ship actually quivered on the glassy water, we all – I mean the first four vessels – left the enemy on the starboard quarter, and turned to port. We had passed thus along in front of, and to the starboard side of, the Chinese, and now, in response to signals, rounded back, starboarding the helm, and came behind the advancing Chinese, having driven the small vessels away to the north.

Then the conflict began again for us, while the main squadron were attacking in front. I could perceive that some of our ships were getting badly hurt. One of the Japanese vessels came through the Chinese line most bravely, but came out shattered and in flames. Her bulwarks were smashed, and her deck shambles enveloped in fire, as she had met two Chinese dragons, veritable monsters, iron-cased.

Then we came in behind the main squadron, as the Chinese swept on and round to starboard to cut off our stragglers, and the main line of our ships came on on their quarters and gave them none. The "Rising Suns," their rayed naval ensigns, blowing out in the draught – for there was little wind – advanced with deadly intent, the flags floating proudly amid the smoke and flames.

Close came the fire, and still closer, as the Japanese "circled" in two divisions, and in opposite directions, around the Chinese ships. Shells crashed and shot thundered, bullets whizzed and sang in all directions, and over all the flame-streaked smoke of guns and furnaces poured out and hung upon the scene, as if to conceal man's awful passions and fierce conflicts. Through this Gehenna we rushed at great speed, tossing the water upon our sterns and bows, to leave it seething astern jotted with plunging shot.

One Chinese vessel, in particular, I noticed, which was most fearfully punished. We dosed her well, and passing on saw her sinking slowly, certainly, her decks battered and bathed in blood, her dead and wounded left, and her living crew shouting for the aid which never could come, as the ship heeled over and sank helplessly, the cries of the doomed Chinese being audible even above the fearful roar of the opposing guns.

We, the Naniwa's, continued our chase of two Chinese ships for a while longer, and would have destroyed them willingly had not our captain seen a signal of recall. As he had both eyes – and not one blind side – he was compelled by discipline to return to the main squadron. It was then about half-past three p.m. In all these encounters the Naniwa, being last in the line, did not receive any damage, nor did I see a dead or severely injured man.

But when we came near the flagship I learned what war was.

We had come back as ordered at full speed to the main body, and found them all in full conflict, the terrible effects of the heavy guns being visible to the unaided eye, and the shells were still causing flames to break out in the opposing ships. One of the big Chinese ships tried to ram us, and we had a narrow escape. I ran forward to my young Japanese friend, and stood by him. But the ships made such a tremendous attack upon her that she was almost helpless.

"Suppose she had rammed us?" I said nervously to my friend.

"We should have been picked up," he replied carelessly; and this cool reply from a Japanese lad is deserving of mention. It was worthy of a young Nelson, who in such surroundings could quietly contemplate the sinking of the ship, in full assurance that his mates would pick up all they could even in the midst of the battle.

This faith was justified in some degree, for the great Chinese ship was shot through. Time after time the Japanese shot and shell struck her, battered her, splintered and dinted her. Her inner fittings must have been shattered, and her guns dismounted. Still she persevered. She pluckily retaliated until we perceived she was listing to starboard more and more, her port-side being less exposed. She was sinking.

Sinking! Yes, I could see she was settling amid the smoke, and she herself in flames. An awful sight! We, with other ships, kept our circular course around the poor vessel; it seemed cowardly. She was burning fiercely; great masses of smoke rose up and drifted over the ships, and yet she did not strike, but fought it out, until at length, blazing, she plunged suddenly down, and slowly disappeared, hissing at her enemies, shrouding them in what seemed a deep shadow after the brightness of flame. It was like the sudden sunset on the sea.

Then I felt almost sick and angry with my friends. The fearful destruction of life which I had witnessed made me feel "bad," and savage too. I was curiously placed, and was debating with myself, when a great shell, and then another, from the big guns of the Chinese flagship came plump upon the Japanese flagship. No one, I think, who has not witnessed the effect of modern artillery can conceive of the destruction which these two shells caused in the ship attacked. My reflections were suddenly banished.

Fancy a mass of metal discharged into a warship's steel armour, and bending it, shattering it, smashing the gun behind the shield, and dashing on almost unchecked, plunging almost into the magazine, exploding the ammunition near it, and killing all there. Then, not satisfied, it set fire to the ship, which burned for a long time. The other shell apparently had made a big hole in the port-side, by the lower deck, struck upwards to the opposite side, and sent a gun overboard, or tumbled it below. The loss of life was tremendous; about eighty killed and wounded by these two discharges alone, besides the other damage done by the explosion of the quick-firing ammunition which lay around. Had the fire thus caused reached the magazine, the Matsushima's career must have ended then and there, and the Japs would have had to lament a terrible loss in their admiral. As it was the guns had to be manned by marines and recruits afterwards.

But the Ping-yuen, which had done this damage, was also seriously injured and "fired." Had not other ships come to her assistance, I think she must have been destroyed. Thus the battle raged until the Chinese, outmanoeuvred, separated themselves from their enemy and dispersed.

The evening was by this time closing in. It was already five o'clock. The great Chinese ironclads continued the contest as long as possible, their action being directed by the German officer – the same, I was given to understand, who had been released with the passengers in the Kowshing. Why this German soldier was intrusted with the control of the Chinese squadron was one of the topsy-turvy "Celestial" decisions which happen in China, where the admiral himself had served in a military capacity.

The firing slackened. The Japanese ships had quite outmanoeuvred their opponents, and at length they steamed away from the fatal circle on which the "Rising Suns" threw a lurid light. The circling vessels moving to the attack in opposite directions gave the Chinese no quarter; the latter became confused and fought independently, while the Japanese, as I can testify, kept touch with each other, and implicitly obeyed the signals of Admiral Ito.

So the Chinese fleet was crumpled up, the great ironclads alone displayed confidence, and they, at dusk, retreated, followed by the Japanese at a respectful distance, fearing torpedoes, of which the Japs had not one in action, having left their boats in harbour.

At six o'clock the battle was ended. Then, while slowly pursuing the enemy, the doctor's report was presented. To my unbounded astonishment the Naniwa had absolutely not one man reported dead or even wounded. No doubt there were some contusions, but the hands assembled later, and not a man was missing at quarters.

As soon as I could, I joined my young Japanese friend and engaged him in conversation.

"Have the Chinese cut and run?" I asked, after some few remarks and congratulations had passed. "What shall we do now?"

"Pursue them. You perceive we are following them in a parallel course. They will take shelter in Wei-hai-Wei."

"But has not some change taken place in the ships. I see the flagship has been doing something."

"Your eyes are pretty smart," he replied. "The admiral has transferred the flag to the Hashidate. The Matsushima requires repair, and is lying up for Japan. We have gained a victory."

As if to accentuate his declaration, at that moment the admiral appeared upon the deck of the Hashidate, amid lights, and cheering, marines presented arms, and all the crew uncovered dark heads in the dying daylight. From ship to ship the cheering spread, and speeded many brave souls to heaven in the excitement attendant upon the martial strains of the solemn "Kimi-ga-yo," the National Anthem. Far over the now quiet sea, and amid the still evening air, the music died away in the distance. The lusty singing accompanied by the band made all pulses beat as fiercely as in action; and as a good omen a falcon flew down and perched upon the Takachiho.

"Look, look!" cried my friend. "The falcon alights. He rests upon the main topsail-yard of the ship. Surely someone will capture it?"

"Not very likely," I replied, "unless it is tired or tame it will quickly escape. We shall not be able to ascertain at anyrate till the morning. What a curious incident!"

"It means good luck," said my friend. "For hundreds of years our philosophers have agreed that the falcon brings good fortune to the Japanese. So this is a splendid omen for us, and a bad one for our enemies."

"I am pleased that I am a friend, then," I replied, laughing. "The bird, I hope, has nothing evil in store for a volunteer."

"I do not think so," he replied, joining in my humour. "But here's something to interest us both," he continued, as a marine approached and saluted.

A few sentences were exchanged, and my young friend turned to me, saying —

"Here's an opportunity for a volunteer. Do you understand the Chinese language?"

"I can make myself understood in it, a little," I answered. "Why do you ask?"

"Because someone has suspected you of being a spy," he replied. "You must see the captain at once, and explain matters to him. One of the officers has sent me the message; I must speak to the lieutenant. Wait here for me; someone has been talking about you. Wait a while."

Then he went aft, leaving me to think of this new misfortune. The trail of "Fêng Shui" was over it all.

CHAPTER X

A TRANSFORMATION SCENE – I BECOME A "CHINESE"

While I ruminated upon this most unexpected incident, my ears were almost insensible of the shouts and singing, the cries of "Nippon Banzai!" – Japan for ever! – the music, and the general enthusiasm. Who had been so base as to state that I was a Chinese spy? Perhaps one of the crew who had rescued me from the sinking steamer, and had noticed me in the company of the German officer, a well-known adherent of the Chinese. If so, my fate was sealed. The yardarm on which the falcon had perched appeared to me to be my ultimate destination, or to suggest it. The more I ruminated upon my prospects, the less I liked them.

Meantime the Naniwa pursued her course, the lookouts keeping a most careful watch for torpedoes. I kept an equally anxious watch for the midshipman.

At length he returned, having had an interview with the captain. His expression puzzled me, because it gave me no assurance of relief, and yet did not suggest despair.

"Well?" I asked, as soon as he came within speaking distance. "Am I to be boiled in oil?" This was an attempt at levity which my heart did not respond to.

"No, not yet," was the alarming answer. "But you will have to leave the ship."

"Leave the ship? Why?"

"Because you must. A rumour has arisen about you, and the men do not regard you with favour. An opportunity will occur to put you ashore, and then you will be landed with others."

"Then you think me a traitor!" I exclaimed. "I swear I am not! Why, you must know yourself that I an Englishman and honest."

"Yes; I said so."

"Won't the captain believe you, then? What can he think of you?"

"He believes me, certainly."

"Hang me if I understand you!" I exclaimed irritably. "What is the fuss about? What is to be done? Let me know the worst?"

"The fact is as I said: you will be sent ashore. You understand some Chinese?"

"But the dialects differ. Surely your clever captain knows that?"

"Yes; and there lies the point. Four men – our men – are going ashore. They are interpreters of the fleet. The men have an idea that you are mixed up with the Chinese. So the captain thinks it better to send you ashore with the interpreters, who intend to search the places and report upon the country."

"Really, your captain is very kind, but I can't travel in China as a Japanese, or perhaps as an Englishman in your service."

"No," replied my friend calmly. "You must go as a Chinese."

"A Chinese? Play the spy, you mean? Never!"

"Then you may be shot; because the impression amongst the crew, as reported, is hostile to you."

"But the captain can settle that. What's the use of his being captain if he can't quench this falsehood – if he wishes?"

"His wishes are not concerned, his ship is; and his orders are to land you with the explorers from the fleet. No one will harm you in our service, because you shall have a permit. When you meet the army you will be safe."

"But why not put me aboard a British vessel? There are several in these seas. That is the most sensible plan. Ask the captain that?"

"I am afraid his mind is made up on the subject. If you had not been suspected of Chinese inclinations, you might have got sent away easily. You rather favoured the Chinese, you remember?"

I then recalled some expressions I had used after my release on board the Naniwa respecting the conduct of the Japanese ships in respect of the steamer Kowshing. These remarks must have been heard and commented upon. I felt annoyed, and said —

"Then I quite believe there are Japanese spies on board. When am I to clear out?"

"When opportunity occurs," the young man replied, rather coldly. "You need not think you are under arrest meanwhile."

"Thank you," I said; "I will try to deserve the clemency."

Then he left me to my reflections, and I remained staring at the sea, and thinking of the future, until the hour and the change of the watch warned me to seek my hammock.

We had sighted nothing during the night, and in the morning the smoke of the retreating warships was all we discerned. Whether the Japanese squadron had had enough fighting I cannot say. At anyrate, the admiral did not hasten the pursuit, he returned in the direction of Talien Bay.

The combined squadron now discovered some remnants of the encounter of the day before, at which "all hands" gazed with satisfaction and interest. As we advanced to Hai-yang Island the distant smoke of some steamer caused the admiral to despatch a cruiser to intercept the vessel, but whatever she was she escaped. My interest in the chase, and in the general surroundings, was keen, because I knew not what fate might befall me; and if the steamer had been a Britisher I might have been transferred to her.

But no such luck was mine. As I gazed around the ship, and realised the effects of the action, and recalled the remembrance of it, I felt depressed. The roar, the smoke, the flames, and the rattle of the great fight had all died away and disappeared. The heavy black pall of smoke which had shrouded the vessels had been lifted long before, and nothing but a stranded Chinese vessel and fragments of the encounter remained.

A signal fluttered, and the Chiyoda was sent upon its ghoulish errand to destroy the wreck of the stranded ship. This proved to be the Yang Wei, which had run aground. A torpedo effected the desired result, and shattered the vessel to atoms, after which brilliant episode the Chiyoda came pelting up to the squadron again. Then the whole array proceeded to the anchorage, where some of the disabled Japanese ships had repaired. There we ascertained that the falcon which had flown on board the Takachiho had been easily secured, and placed in a cage; and when, later, one of the imperial chamberlains came to convey the Mikado's congratulations to the admiral and the fleet, the bird was committed to his charge for conveyance to the Emperor. I heard, long afterwards, that the bird was named after the cruiser, and was then living in the imperial aviary at Tokio.

However, this is by the way. My personal adventures were at the time much more interesting to me, and yet I was neither kept in bondage nor for a while put ashore. But one day the verdict was delivered, the sentence pronounced, and my farewell was made. The circumstances were as follows: —

A lieutenant came into the berth with my friend, and by him I was informed that I must prepare for departure. We had been acting as escort to a number of transports in Japanese waters, and any chance of escape had been carefully prevented. So when the lieutenant came in with his interpreting junior, I was almost pleased to meet them and hear my fate, though it was tinged with despair. Anything then appeared to me better than submission to the polite suspicions to which I had lately been enduring, and even thus my position as an Englishman and a sailor preserved for me a greater degree of toleration than would have been granted to most other foreigners. The recital of my adventures and training, particularly my rescue of the young Japanese officer, pleaded in my favour; but the rumours from the forecastle, which had penetrated to the ward-room, compelled attention, and in war-time any underhand practices, if only suspected, always bring disaster.

The fleet, as I have said, had for some time patrolled the Manchurian coast, seeking for a landing-place for the lately raised army, of which Marshal Oyama was appointed general-in-chief. The division had landed in Corea near the Taidong River, and thither the men-of-war proceeded when the arrangements for the disembarkation had been concluded.

It was on the 23rd October that the whole array of transports, escorted by a number of warships, left the river; and next day, an eventful day for me, they anchored off the Manchurian coast at some little distance from shore, in thick and misty weather. All hands were alert, though nothing had occurred to alarm us, but when the vessels became discernible from the shore some excitement was manifested, because the natives had never seen such an array of force, and could not believe in its advance. They knew the water was shallow, and though their junks could come in, and lie at ease under the shadow of the hills, the great vessels would be wrecked, they knew.

The Naniwa had anchored when the two officers came to the berth in search of me, and made the final proposition, as I anticipated. My young friend interpreted the decision.

"The captain and officers," he said, "have no alternative in this matter, though I am instructed to say that in their opinion you have not willingly transgressed nor plotted against his Imperial Majesty. Therefore they offer you the opportunity to go ashore with our scouts, and to act with them. Will you accept the offer?"

"Pray accept my thanks for the courtesy. But what if I decline it?"

"Then you will be dealt with in a more severe manner."

I paused before I replied to this. My temper rose, and I felt that any dispute was to be avoided. Still I could not withhold a protest.

"Your captain can, of course, hang me, but I am perfectly innocent. Cannot he send me aboard some American or British ship?"

"We have no means of doing so," he replied, when this renewed demand had been translated. "You must decide at once, and, if you do accept the offer, make your preparations."

"Well then, I must accept, I suppose. What preparations do you refer to?"

"You must appear as a Chinese, and accompany the interpreters ashore, and bring back the intelligence to the Commander-in-Chief."

I was staggered. My heart beat loudly. Was this Japanese method? Then the punishment was really intended to fit the supposed crime. I was accused of being a spy. The Japanese would make me one in fact! This was carrying the war into the enemy's country with a vengeance.

"Impossible!" I gasped. "I cannot. You surely will not compel me to play the spy?"

The lieutenant perceived my indignation, and said something to the junior officer.

"You must decide quickly," he said. "The troops will soon be landed."

This was a form of speech which I discounted. The vessels were miles away from shore.

"Who will be my companions? and shall I be treated well?"

"Certainly. One of your associates can speak French, you can also speak a little Chinese. They will be told that you are an English correspondent of a newspaper. You sketch?"

"A little."

"Then your arrangements will be easily made. You will go as a traveller, as many of your compatriots have already done in Asia-Minor and farther East. Put aside the idea of 'spy,' sir; think of your safety only. You will be a traveller, and can move as you please."

"You do not expect me to return?"

"No, indeed! Pardon me, we want to get rid of you."

I smiled faintly. "Very well," I said. "How can I find the dress?"