THE PETROPAVLOSK LURED TO HER DOOM.
The explanation of the Russian cruisers’ pertinacity was soon made plain to Admiral Dewa by a wireless message which he picked up, addressed to the captain of the Novik, which, decoded, ran thus: “Keep in touch with enemy but do not attack until I join you. Two battleships and Askold following to support you. Signed Makarov.”
Of course I did not know anything about this until afterward, the Koryu not being fitted with a wireless installation; but Dewa at once made a code signal to me instructing me to continue my present tactics; and while this was being done his wireless operators were busily engaged in transmitting a code message to Admiral Togo, who was at that moment lurking, enveloped in mist, some thirty miles away, near the Miao-tao Islands, with his whole battle squadron and the new cruisers Nisshin and Kasuga.
Makarov, however, was evidently ignorant of that fact; the atmosphere in the neighbourhood of Port Arthur was now quite clear, and to the lookouts on the highest points about the fortress no Japanese ships were visible, save the cruiser squadron, which was undoubtedly in full retreat from the pursuing Russian ships, which it was perfectly evident they were afraid of. It was the moment and the opportunity for which the Russian Admiral had long been pining, the moment when a weak Japanese force, entirely unsupported, lay at his mercy, and now he would smash them!
Accordingly, he hurried aboard the Petrofiavlosk and signalled the Poltava and Askold —both of which, like the flagship, had steam up—to weigh at once and proceed to sea. This was done, with marvellous smartness, considering that the craft were Russian, and presently out they came, their funnels belching immense volumes of black smoke and the water leaping and foaming about their bows as they pounded after us at their utmost speed, which, after all, was only about fourteen knots.
Meanwhile, Dewa, who was bringing up the rear in the Asama,—by the speed of which ship the rest of the squadron regulated theirs,—was very cleverly allowing the Russians to slowly overtake him, while the Russians were straining every nerve to do so, stoking up furiously and wasting their coal in the most reckless manner.
Then came an order from the Admiral to me to increase speed and pass ahead of the squadron, out of harm’s way, as he was about to open fire upon the Russians. Of course there was nothing for it but to obey, which I did forthwith; but when I had got about a mile ahead, I gradually slowed down again; if there was any fun toward, I was not going to miss it. Besides, it was just possible that I might be of use, for, following the Russian battleships and cruisers, there was now coming up, hand over hand, a crowd of destroyers, against which the Koryu’s Hotchkisses might be brought into play.
Admiral Dewa only allowed me just bare time to get ahead of his squadron, when he made the signal to open fire upon the pursuers with our cruisers’ 8-inch turret guns; and the signal, which had been awaited with the utmost impatience, was promptly responded to with a steady and deadly deliberate fire upon the Bayan, which was leading the Russian line. Before her officers had time to realise what was happening, shells were hurtling all about her and raining against her bows and upon her deck, punishing her so severely that they had to stop her engines and allow the rest of the fleet to pass ahead. The Russian fleet, which had thus far been coming on in line ahead, now hurriedly formed line abreast, the two battleships opening fire upon our cruisers with their 12-inch guns. Luckily for us, although the water was smooth the Russian aim was bad, and their shells flew over and on either side of us, but none hit us. Then Dewa, who was far too good a tactician to pit his cruisers against battleships, gave the order to increase speed, and we ran out of range, undamaged.
But only just out of range; for we wanted to draw the Russian ships so far away from Port Arthur that Admiral Togo might have a chance to come up, slip in between them and the fortress, cut off their retreat, and force them to fight. And without a doubt we should have been successful, had not the capricious weather played us a scurvy trick at a critical moment when the Russians were some eighteen miles off the land in a south-easterly direction from Port Arthur. For it was at this moment that the fog, which had hitherto hidden Togo’s approaching fleet, suddenly cleared, revealing to the Russian lookouts on the Liau-ti-shan heights, the Japanese warships, racing up from the south-west.
The approach of the Japanese was instantly frantically signalled to the wireless station, which in turn wirelessed the alarming intelligence to the Russian Admiral. A few moments’ study of the chart revealed to Makarov the precariousness of his situation. If he turned and retreated at once, he might possibly escape by the skin of his teeth and get back into harbour before Togo’s ships could get up to cut him off, and he did not hesitate a moment. Up went the signal to retire, over went the Russians’ helms, and away they scuttled back toward their lair, even faster than they came out, while our cruisers, keenly on the watch for some such movement, also wheeled sharply in pursuit, keeping up a steady fire upon the Bayan and the Novik, the rearmost ships in the Russian line. Naturally, the Koryu turned when our cruisers did, following them up at full speed until we were close in their rear, while Dewa was far too busy attending to the pursuit to spare any attention to me and my doings.
It was at this juncture that the Russian destroyers made a gallant effort to check our pursuit by distracting our attention from their big craft to themselves. Believing that they held an important advantage over us in point of speed, they boldly slowed down, dropped astern, and, in two divisions, made a determined demonstration on our two flanks, repeatedly threatening to make a dash, close in, and use the torpedo.
There was one exceptionally audacious craft, the pertinacity of which caused me to take particular notice of her, and keep a specially watchful eye upon her, because I speedily came to the conclusion that she was doing more than merely demonstrate, she was bent upon mischief. She was making a dead set at the Asama, our most valuable ship, getting right to windward of her, and pouring dense volumes of black smoke from her four funnels, so forming a screen for herself, under cover of which she was evidently trying to edge in to within effective torpedo range. Of course the Asama and one or two of the other cruisers opened fire upon her with their light guns, but we, who had crept up to windward, saw that the smoke screen was serving its purpose admirably, and that although the projectiles were falling all round her, she was not being hit. It occurred to me that now was the time when we in the Koryu might be able to render a little useful service, our own destroyers having been unfortunately ordered to return to their rendezvous, some time before, and were now out of sight. Accordingly I gave orders for the gunners to stand by their Hotchkisses, and rang for full speed, also calling down to the engineer for the very last ounce of steam he could get out of his boilers.
Like an arrow shot from a bow, the Koryu started forward and, edging well out to windward of the destroyer, opened a brisk fire upon her with our Hotchkisses, aiming at her deck tubes, round which I had seen some men busily clustering. And it was well that I did so, for the Russians were in the very act of launching a torpedo at the moment; indeed they actually did launch it, but by one of those extraordinary flukes that sometimes happen, and are so difficult to describe convincingly, one of our shots struck the weapon at the instant that it issued from the tube, wrecking its propeller and rudder and sending it to the bottom.
Evidently the destroyer’s crew had been so completely absorbed in their attempt upon the Asama that they had been oblivious to our approach; but now, seeing us bearing menacingly down upon her, her skipper suddenly shifted his helm and would fain have beaten a retreat. As it happened, however, we had by this time drawn up abreast and were between him and his friends, so he evidently came to the conclusion that there was nothing for it but to fight his way out; accordingly he made a dash to cut out across our bows, at the same time turning his whole battery of guns upon us. I instantly ordered my men to leave their guns and get away aft, out of the way of the shot, dismissing the quartermaster also, and taking the wheel in his stead.
At such short range, his shots could not possibly miss, and in less than a minute our bows and fore deck showed a very pretty “general average,” a 6-pound shell blowing a hole through our plating and wrecking the topgallant forecastle, while several 4-pound projectiles pierced our funnel, blew away our fore topmast, and knocked one corner of the wheelhouse to smithereens. But I did not care; the purpose which I had in mind was fully worth all the damage and more, and I knew now that unless I personally was hit and disabled, I should be able to accomplish it. For I meant to give that impudent destroyer the stem, to run her down and sink her, knowing that our stout bows would shear through her thin plating as though it were paper. And the Koryu had the speed to do it, the destroyer having lost much of her speed by the barnacles and weed on her bottom, which she exposed at every roll.
Evidently the Russian did not realise my purpose until it was too late; he seemed to think I was a fool who was giving him a chance to inflict a deadly raking upon me as he crossed my bows; and it was not until I suddenly shifted my helm, rendering a collision inevitable, that what was going to happen dawned upon him. Then there arose a sudden outcry as the crew forsook their guns and made a mad dash at the two small boats slung to the davits, there was a frantic jangling of bells down in the destroyer’s engine-room, an officer on her bridge snatched a revolver from his belt and snapped off five shots at me in as many seconds—none of which took effect—and then we were upon her. With scarcely any perceptible shock we struck her fair and square amidships, right in the wake of where I judged her boiler-room would be; there was a horrible crackling and rending of wood and iron as our stem sheared into and through her deck, a clamour of yells from the crew as they fought with each other in their mad haste to lower the boats, and the destroyer heeled over until she was almost on her beam-ends, a volleying succession of deep, heavy booms, accompanied by a tremendous outburst of steam, proclaimed that her boilers had burst, and at the same instant she seemed to crumple up and break completely in two, her bow-half sweeping along our port side, while her stern-half drove past to starboard, the crew, unable to get the boats afloat, leaping desperately overboard. A moment before striking the craft, I had rung down an order to the engine-room to stop the engines, and shouted for my crew to stand by with ropes’ ends; and now several of these were hove, by means of which we managed to drag three Russians up on to our deck; and then we backed astern and fished up eight more, all of whom we marched below and locked up securely. The other poor fellows, including the captain of the boat, must have gone down with her, for we saw nothing more of them. But we had taught the destroyers a lesson, for thenceforth they kept their distance.
Examining into our own condition, we discovered that our injuries arising out of the collision amounted to about as much paint scraped off as might be replaced by the contents of a 10-pound tin, while all other damage was so high above the waterline as to make it of no practical account. And we had not a man injured; so I considered that we had emerged from the encounter very cheaply.
It was just half-past nine o’clock, by my watch, when, bursting through the curtains of haze, our battle fleet hove in sight in the south-west quarter, with flags flying, the water leaping and foaming about their cutwaters, and a fine “white feather” of steam playing on the top of their waste-pipes, indicating that the stokers were maintaining a full head of steam in the boilers. But—Japanese luck again—they were just too late; for at that moment the Russian fleet entered the protective zone of their shore batteries and, with a very poor attempt at bravado, slowed down to a speed of about six knots, while the Sevastopol, Pobieda, and Peresviet came steaming out to meet them. They had managed to escape by the skin of their teeth; and now, in accordance with the instructions given to the Admiral not to risk his ships by pitting them against the shore batteries, we also were obliged to slow up, and finally to stop our engines. As a matter of fact, the time had come for us to retire; but evidently everybody was curious to see what would be the result of my mine-laying operations of the preceding night, and by common consent we all lay-to.
We had not long to wait. We saw some signalling going on between the flagship and the three craft that had come out to meet the fleet; saw the trio fall into line in rear of the retreating fleet; and then, while our glasses were glued to our eyes as we watched the procession of great ships sweeping majestically toward the harbour’s mouth—from which they were then little more than a mile distant—we suddenly beheld a tremendous flash of fire envelop the bows of the Petropavlosk, the flagship, which was leading the way into the harbour. The flash was accompanied by the upheaval of a gigantic cone of water and an outburst of thick yellow smoke which at once told us that one of our mines had got in its deadly work. Instantly a great exultant roar of “Banzai Nippon!” burst forth from the throats of the eagerly watching Japanese, but it was as instantly checked when they began to realise the full magnitude of the disaster that had befallen their enemy. For even before the sound of the shattering explosion reached our ears we saw her fore topmast fall, saw long tongues of flame leap up from her decks, saw her-two funnels whirl over and fall, one after the other, while her bridge, pilot-house, and foremast soared high into the air; and so tremendous was the force of the explosion that actually one of her 6-inch gun turrets was torn bodily from its strong fastenings and hurled some twenty feet aloft, to crash downward again upon the hapless ship’s deck, while a great burst of flame, probably due to the explosion of her boilers, shot up where her two funnels had stood a moment before. A series of heavy explosions followed, seeming to indicate the explosion of her magazines, and then the doomed ship became enveloped in a thick haze of green smoke, in the midst of which played great streams of fire. Through that terrible green haze we were just able to see that she had taken a heavy list to starboard; then her bows dipped, her stern rose until her two propellers were lifted out of the water, a great mushroom-shaped pillar of smoke shot up from her, and—she was gone! And all this had happened in the short space of two minutes, during which shells from our battleships were falling thick and fast about the Russian ships, which had stopped their engines when the explosion occurred, while some of them lowered boats, in the hope of being able to render assistance to the unfortunate flagship.
With the disappearance of the flagship, the Russian fleet resumed its way toward the harbour, the Pobieda now being at the head of the line. But scarcely had she started her engines when an enormous pillar of flame, water, and smoke enveloped her amidships. She, too, had come into contact with one of our mines, but, fortunately for her, with much less disastrous results than those attending the destruction of the Petropavlosk. She instantly listed, showing that she was severely damaged, but beyond that nothing further happened, so far as we could see, except that the second explosion appeared to have created a perfect panic among the Russians, who immediately opened a terrific fire with every gun, big or small, apparently at random, for we could see the shots throwing up great jets of foam in the water all round them. Later, we learned that when the second explosion occurred, some one aboard one of the ships yelled that the fleet was surrounded by Japanese submarines, discharging torpedoes; hence the frantic firing at the water. Of course the assertion was groundless, since, as a matter of fact, the Japanese had no submarines; but it is not very surprising that, with two disasters, one following so closely upon the heels of the other, the Russians should jump to the conclusion that they had been attacked by submarines; for it must be remembered that we had carefully educated them into the belief that our mines were quite harmless.
The loss of the Petropavlosk was a terrible misfortune for the Russians, for she was one of their most formidable ships; being armed with four 12-inch guns of the most recent design, mounted in pairs in her two big turrets; with, as a secondary battery, twelve 6-inch quick-fire guns, eight of which were mounted in pairs in four small turrets placed, two on either beam, behind 5-inch steel armour, while the other four were in casemates similarly protected. She had six torpedo tubes, and we conjectured that she probably had a torpedo in each tube which exploded at the time of the disaster.
As for the Pobieda, our spies were able to ascertain that the mine which damaged her had breached three of her big compartments and some smaller ones, so that it was only with the utmost difficulty she was got into harbour and beached in time to save her. Also one set of her Belleville boilers was so severely damaged as to be rendered useless. Consequently she, too, was put out of action for a considerable period.
Thus, at one fell swoop, the Russian fleet was reduced in strength by two battleships. But their worst loss was their Admiral; for it is indisputable that Makarov was the most able, energetic, and enterprising naval leader they possessed.
Two days later, more mines were laid in Port Arthur roadstead, and another attempt was made to entice the Russian fleet to come out and fight us; but the attempt was a failure. As a matter of fact, it afterwards transpired that, upon receipt of the report announcing the loss of the Petropavlosk and the damage to the Pobieda, the authorities at Petersburg had telegraphed orders to the effect that the Port Arthur fleet was on no account whatever to leave the harbour until the arrival of Admiral Skrydloff, Makarov’s successor.
Failing in this, Admiral Togo dispatched the cruisers Nisshin and Kasuga to Pigeon Bay, to make a high-angle fire attack upon the fortress and the ships in the harbour. I was not engaged in either of these attempts, the Admiral considering that I had well earned and was deserving of a few days’ rest. Besides, he very properly wished to give some of his other officers a chance to distinguish themselves. But I understood that, with the exception of silencing a new battery which the Russians had built commanding the bay, the bombardment was not attended with any very important results.
On the following day our little Admiral, whom some have named the Japanese Nelson, dispatched a squadron of ten cruisers, accompanied by a torpedo flotilla, to attempt to bring the Vladivostock squadron to battle. This squadron was accompanied by a cargo steamer named the Kinshiu Maru, loaded with coal and spare stores for the use of the squadron while away from its base; and the expedition was placed under the command of Vice-Admiral Kamimura, with the cruiser Idzumi as his flagship. I had now had a little rest, and as there seemed to be no immediate prospect of serious fighting at Port Arthur, I volunteered for the expedition, and was temporarily attached to the Idzumi as a supernumerary.
We left our base among the Elliot Islands on the 16th of April; and after an uneventful cruise of a week’s duration arrived at the port of Gensan, on the eastern coast of Korea, about two-thirds of the distance from the Elliots to Vladivostock.
There was a Japanese consul at this place, and upon our arrival off the port he and the Commandant came off in a steam launch and, boarding the Idzumi, requested an interview with the Admiral, which was at once granted, and the pair were conducted to Kamimura’s cabin, where they remained for the best part of an hour. At the close of the interview the visitors entered their steam launch and returned to the shore. Some ten minutes later, Kamimura sent for me; and when I entered the cabin I found him poring over a chart of the east coast of Korea. He welcomed me with the usual elaborate courtesy of the Japanese in their intercourse with each other as well as with strangers, and invited me to approach the table.
“I am particularly glad that it is my good fortune to have the pleasure of your honourable company, Captain Swinburne,” he began; “for an occasion has just arisen upon which I think your services may prove of the utmost value. You see this little place—Iwon—on the chart. The two honourable gentlemen who have just visited me—the Commandant of Gensan and our Japanese consul stationed here—inform me that rumours have reached their ears of certain suspicious occurrences at Iwon which seem to point to the possibility that the Russian Government may be contemplating the dispatch of a large body of troops to Vladivostock by rail, their embarkation there for Iwon, at which spot they may land, march across Korea, and take our troops at Port Arthur in the rear. To tell you the truth, I have not much faith in the idea, the only point in its favour being that such a movement would be wholly unanticipated by us. But in view of the information which I have just received, it is my bounden duty to investigate the matter; and I therefore propose to dispatch the Kinshiu Maru on a reconnoitring expedition to Iwon, to ascertain what foundation, if any, there may be for the suspicion. As of course you are aware, she carries a small detachment of troops, who may be very useful, should any opposition be met with. These troops will, of course, be commanded by their own officers, while Captain Yago will continue to command the ship. But, being a merchant seaman, he has had no experience of landing troops; and that is where your services will prove of value, especially should any resistance be offered. I therefore want you to change over temporarily to the Kinshiu, still as a supernumerary, but with my authority for you to take charge of and superintend the landing and subsequent embarkation arrangements. I am afraid this will mean a certain amount of disappointment for you, since as soon as you have started I shall proceed in search of the Vladivostock fleet. But you must endeavour to console yourself with the reflection that I may not find them, or be able to entice them to come out and fight me.”
It was true, I certainly did feel a bit disappointed, for I most earnestly desired to see what it was like to be engaged in a regular pitched battle, even though it were only between a couple of hostile squadrons; but I was where I was, to lend a hand where required, not to pick and choose what I would or would not do; in any case I was not going to make occasion for it to be said that an Englishman had unwillingly accepted any duty offered to him; therefore with as much cheerfulness as I could muster, I expressed my perfect readiness to do my best; whereupon Kamimura gave me my written instructions and dismissed me to pack up such few of my belongings as I thought I might need. However, as I had only brought a very limited kit aboard the Idzumi, I decided to take everything, since it would all go into a small portmanteau.
Meanwhile, the skipper of the Kinshiu had been signalled to have a cabin prepared for me, and for him and Captain Honda, the officer in command of the troops, to repair on board the Idzumi to receive their instructions. They of course came at once, had a short interview with the Admiral, and we all left together, Honda doing the honours of the ship, welcoming me on board the transport, and introducing his fellow-officers, all of whom seemed very jolly fellows, with but one desire, namely, to get to grips with the Russians.
We left Gensan that afternoon, escorted by the 11th torpedo-boat flotilla under the command of Commander Takebe; the cruisers weighing at the same time and heading east, in the hope of seeing or hearing something of the Russians.
Unfortunately for us, we had not been under way a couple of hours before we ran into a dense fog which delayed our progress to such an extent that we did not reach Iwon until the morning of the 25th. We found there a long, roughly constructed wooden jetty running far enough out from the shore to give a depth of about six feet alongside its head, at low water, which greatly facilitated our landing; and, ashore, we discovered certain artfully concealed field-works of such a character that, armed with a few heavy guns, they might have pretty effectually covered a landing, unless interfered with by a very powerful force. But our visit was evidently quite unexpected, for we only found a small body of Russian troops—about a hundred or so, with a squadron of Cossacks—in possession; and a few shells from our torpedo-boats sent them to the right-about in double-quick time. We destroyed the earthworks, and the jetty, as a precautionary measure, and, having reconnoitred the country for several miles in every direction without discovering anything very alarming, returned to the ship the same night, without casualties of any kind.
It was now about six o’clock in the evening. During the greater part of the day the weather had been beautifully fine; but toward three o’clock in the afternoon a heavy bank of dark, slate-coloured cloud had gathered in the eastern quarter of the sky, so quickly rising and spreading that, by five o’clock, the entire firmament had become obscured, the wind dropped to a dead calm, the light dwindled to a murky, unnatural kind of twilight, there were a few flickerings of sheet lightning, low down on the horizon, occasionally accompanied by a low muttering of distant thunder, and the mercury was dropping with rather ominous rapidity.
I confess that, for my own part, I felt a bit puzzled; I did not quite know what to make of the weather indications. It might be that nothing worse than a violent thunderstorm was brewing; but against this theory there was to be set the sudden and ominous decline of the barometric pressure. We had fulfilled our task, and were preparing to get under way, when Takebe, who was in command of the torpedo flotilla, came aboard to consult with our skipper as to the advisability of going to sea, in the face of such threatening conditions.
Unfortunately, our escort was composed entirely of torpedo-boats; and although they were staunch enough little craft of their kind, they were nothing like such good sea boats as our destroyers. The latter were, under able management, capable of riding out practically any weather, but with the torpedo-boats it was rather a different story. Some of those that we had with us were small and rather ancient, their engines were not to be too implicitly relied upon, and their boilers were nearly worn-out; indeed, they would never have been detailed for the service, had it been thought that there would be any likelihood of real righting. If by any chance they should happen to be caught at sea in anything like a heavy gale, and anything should go wrong with either their engines or their boilers, the probability was that they would founder, taking all hands with them.
It was these considerations that were weighing upon Commander Takebe’s mind when he came aboard the Kinshiu to consult with Captain Yagi; and it was evident from his first words that he was all in favour of adopting the prudent course, and staying where we were until it could be seen how matters were going to turn out. But Yagi and he looked at things with different eyes. In the first place, Yagi did not believe that the portents indicated anything more serious than, at worst, a sharp thunderstorm, while at the same time his instructions from Kamimura were that the reconnaissance was to be executed with the utmost dispatch, and that, this done, he was to immediately return to Gensan, so that he might be on the spot in the event of the cruisers needing to re-bunker. And in any case, should it come on to blow, as Commander Takebe seemed to fear, he had no apprehensions concerning the Kinshiu; she was a good sturdy little ship, and would weather out the worst that was at all likely to happen.
The two discussed the matter together for quite half an hour, occasionally referring to me for my opinion; but both of them were considerably older than I, and had had a much more varied experience than myself of the somewhat peculiar weather conditions of the Sea of Japan; I therefore said as little as possible, and did not attempt to offer a word of advice to either of them. Finally, the matter ended by each of them having his own way—that is to say, Yagi decided to leave for Gensan forthwith, unescorted, taking such trifling risk as there might be—which, they both agreed, amounted practically to none at all—while Takebe determined to study the safety of his command by remaining where he was and awaiting developments. Accordingly, as soon as the Commander had gone, the order was given to get the anchor; and about seven o’clock we steamed out to sea.