THE COUNCIL IN THE MIKASA’S CABIN.
As we entered the roadstead we found there, at anchor, a small Chinese junk of such a dilapidated and weather-beaten appearance that she seemed as though she might go to pieces at any moment. She was flying the Japanese mercantile flag, a white flag with a red ball in the centre—which is also the Japanese “Jack,” and I soon learned that in her case, as in many others, appearances were deceptive, for I was assured that she was as staunch as staunch could be. She was officered and manned by a Chinese crew, and she was ostensibly loaded with bricks; but surrounded by these bricks, which were only a blind, was a sturdy little closed-in engine and boiler, the smoke from the latter issuing from the unusually big chimney of her galley stove, while the engine worked a small but powerful set of pumps which strongly sucked in water through her bows and discharged it equally strongly from her stern, under water, of course, giving her a speed of seven knots in smooth water. And when I sought further information with regard to this mysterious craft, I was informed by Ito, who seemed to know all about her, that she had been purchased by the Japanese Secret Service Department, fitted with her engine, boiler, and pumps by an ingenious Japanese engineer, and that her business was to go to and fro between Port Arthur and “a certain place,” ostensibly as a trader, but in reality that her skipper, a particularly bold and clever spy, might obtain information for the Japanese.
The spy’s name, it appeared, was Hang-won,—a rather ominous name, I thought, under the circumstances,—while the name of the junk was Chung-sa. She had arrived from Port Arthur about midday, and this was Hang-won’s first essay in Japan’s service. But he had brought from Port Arthur two items of news that were likely to prove most valuable to us; one of them being, that the Russian destroyers were being sent to sea every night to reconnoitre, and that upon their return they always showed a white light above a red, to indicate that they were Russian; while the second item was to the effect that that day, 8th February, happened to be the name-day of Madame Stark, the wife of the Russian Admiral, and that in honour of the day a great banquet was to be given at nine o’clock that night, at the Admiral’s house, which was to be followed by a special performance at a circus which chanced to be in the town.
The moment that this information was communicated to Togo, he recognised the magnificent possibilities offered by the occasion. For it was morally certain that, between the banquet and the circus, most of the officers, and possibly also a good many of the men, of the Russian fleet would be ashore, that night; and what better opportunity for an attack upon it was likely to offer? The chance was very much too good to be missed, and a signal was at once made for the captains of all craft, destroyers included, to repair on board the Mikasa.
I was one of the last to reach the flagship, for the destroyers were anchored outside the rest of the fleet, and when I arrived the Admiral’s cabin was full of men, as many of them as could find room being seated round the table, while the rest were accommodated with chairs. All were talking indiscriminately together, for the council had not yet begun; but it was characteristic of Togo that he saw me the instant I entered the cabin, and rose to shake hands with me, exclaiming, “Ah! here comes our young British giant.” Then, pointing to a chair near himself, he motioned me to be seated, saying as he did so with a humorous smile:
“Well, Mr Swinburne, I hope you find the Kasanumi a nice, steady, comfortable ship. Is there room enough in her for you to stretch yourself, or shall we have to lengthen her a few feet?”
“She is a splendid little craft, sir,” I said heartily, “far better than the British boat in which I saw some service. She is a magnificent sea boat, and came through the wild weather of yesterday and last night without turning a hair. True, she is a bit cramped between the beams, and I have already raised a few bumps on my head while trying to stand upright in my cabin; but I’m ready to go anywhere and attempt anything in her.”
“That’s right,” remarked Togo; “you show the true Nelson spirit, sir—the spirit which we expect to find in every Briton; the spirit which we so greatly admire, and which we are humbly striving to imbue our Japanese seamen with. So you are ‘ready to go anywhere and attempt anything,’ eh? Excellent! I hope to afford you the opportunity to show us what you can do before you are many hours older.”
Then, turning to where Captain Ijichi stood near the cabin door, he said, in Japanese:
“Are all present, Ijichi?”
Some half a dozen officers had followed close upon my heels, and I noticed that, as each entered, the Mikasa’s skipper had ticked off something on a list which he held in his hand.
“All present, sir,” answered Ijichi, referring to his list.
“Good!” remarked the Admiral. “Then, be so good as to tell the sentry that we are on no account to be interrupted. Then close the door and find a seat for yourself.”
With the closing of the cabin door the general conversation that had been proceeding came to an abrupt termination and a tense silence ensued. Togo looked round the cabin, as though taking stock of us all; then in a few terse words he communicated to us the information which he had just learned from Hang-won, who, by the way, was still in the cabin, ready to answer any questions that might be put to him.
“Now, gentlemen,” he continued, “there is no need for me to enlarge upon the splendid opportunity which Madame Stark’s celebration of her name-day offers us to strike a heavy blow at the enemy’s fleet; I am sure that you will all see it for yourselves. The only question is: In what way can we best avail ourselves of the opportunity? What form is the blow to take?
“So far as we are concerned, we are seventeen ships strong, apart from our destroyers, while our friend, Hang-won, informs me that the Russian fleet consists of fourteen ships, again apart from destroyers. We are therefore three ships to the good. But, of those fourteen Russian ships, seven are battleships, while we muster only six; furthermore, the whole fleet is anchored under the protection of the Port Arthur batteries, a further tremendous advantage to them. Notwithstanding this, however, the opportunity is such a splendid one that, were my hands free, I should be strongly disposed to take my whole fleet into Port Arthur roadstead, engage the Russian ships at close quarters, trusting to find them unprepared; do them as much damage as possible with our heavy guns; and trust to our destroyers to complete their destruction while the confusion of the surprise was at its height. But, gentlemen, I cannot do this. My orders from the Cabinet and the Elder Statesmen are clear and precise, and under no circumstances whatever am I to disobey them. They are, that I am never to risk my ships, especially my battleships, by exposing them to the fire of the Port Arthur batteries; and if I do not myself obey orders, how may I expect that my orders will be obeyed? Strict and unquestioning obedience to orders is, as you all know, almost an article of faith with us; therefore, sorely tempted though I am, to disobey just this once, I dare not set an example which might be fraught with the most disastrous consequences. Hence, gentlemen, I have summoned you this afternoon, to assist me with your counsels. I may mention that, keeping in view the fact that my superiors, the Government, have given me certain orders which I must obey, the only thing I can see for it is to send in our destroyers, and let them do their best. Can any of you suggest a better plan?”
For a full minute or more a tense silence reigned in the cabin, everybody apparently waiting for somebody else to speak first. Then a young officer in lieutenant’s uniform (whom I subsequently learned was no less a personage than Prince Kasho, one of the Mikasa’s officers), rose and, bowing first to the Admiral and then to the rest of us, said, in Japanese of course:
“Do I understand, Admiral, that your question carries with it your permission to us to express our candid opinion?”
“Assuredly,” answered Togo.
“Good!” returned the Prince. “Then, since no one else appears to have a suggestion to offer, perhaps I may be permitted to do so, though I happen to be the junior of most of the honourable officers present. You told us just now, sir, that, were your hands free, you would be strongly disposed to take your entire fleet into Port Arthur roadstead, where, I understand, almost every Russian ship of importance in Eastern waters now rides at anchor, and make an end of them.”
The speaker was here interrupted by a low murmur of applause from many of the officers present, who seemed to have a shrewd suspicion of what was coming. Togo held up his hand for silence, the Prince bowed smilingly to his audience, who he felt he had with him, and resumed:
“But you tell us, sir, that you are not free to exercise your own discretion, that your hands are tied by certain orders which you have received; and you have reminded us that implicit obedience is the supreme virtue, almost an article of religious faith, with the Japanese.
“With that sentiment, sir, I am, I scarcely need say, in perfect, whole-hearted agreement. But there is a point which I wish to make, and it is this. The Cabinet and the Elder Statesmen are, as their designation indicates, statesmen; they are neither soldiers nor sailors. And while I will not attempt to dispute either their wisdom or their right to formulate certain general rules for the guidance of their Generals and Admirals, I feel that I should not be doing my full duty to my country, in the circumstances which now confront us, if I did not boldly declare my fixed conviction that such general rules as I have just alluded to ought to be regarded and accepted by us merely as guides, and not as definite, imperative orders which are under no circumstances whatsoever to be disobeyed.”
Here another little murmur of applause, more general and decided than the first, ran round the cabin. As it died away, the speaker resumed:
“I cannot believe, sir, that the orders laid upon you were intended to deprive you of the power to exercise your own discretion under such exceptional circumstances as the present; and I therefore take upon myself the responsibility of saying, here in the presence of all your officers, that I believe you would be amply justified in acting in the manner that you indicated a few minutes ago.”
There was no mistaking the meaning of the applause that rang through the cabin now; it was perfectly evident that—with the solitary exceptions of the Admiral and myself—the Prince had every man present heartily with him.
“I have but a very few more words to add, sir,” the speaker resumed, when the applause died away, “and they are these. What you have told us concerning to-night’s projected happenings in Port Arthur seems to indicate that an opportunity, such as may never occur again, now offers for us to strike such a blow at the enemy that it will be impossible for him ever to recover from it; and if the striking of that blow does indeed involve actual disobedience of precise orders, I venture to assert that the result will amply justify the deed.”
The Prince resumed his seat amid thunders of applause which rang through the cabin for at least a couple of minutes. When at length it died down, Togo rose to his feet.
“Gentlemen,” he said, “I gather from your plaudits that you all fully agree with Prince Kasho’s honourable speech, for which I beg to most heartily thank him, although it places me upon the horns of a dilemma. Let that pass, for the moment, however. What I want, now, is that each of you should, in as few words as possible, express your opinion upon the Prince’s suggestion that I should take the whole of my ships into Port Arthur roadstead and engage the enemy in a pitched battle.”
In response to this appeal, the officers rose, one after the other, apparently in the order of their seniority; and each man expressed his hearty concurrence with Prince Kasho’s proposal, the concurrence being accompanied in many cases by the expression of sundry lofty and beautiful sentiments extolling the virtues of patriotism and valour. At length everybody had spoken except myself, and I was heartily hoping that I should be passed over as a person of so little account that my opinion would not be considered worth having. Not so, however. The Admiral turned to me and said, with a smile:
“And now at last we come to our honourable English friend, the captain of the Kasanumi. What has he to say upon the matter? You have heard what has been said; and although you have perhaps been unable, through your restricted knowledge of our language, to grasp the full meaning of it all, you may possibly have understood enough to enable you to comprehend the way in which this momentous question appeals to the Japanese heart and intellect. Now, kindly favour us with the view which you, as a hard-headed Englishman, take of it.”
“Really, sir,” I said in English, springing to my feet in some confusion, “I would very much prefer to be excused, if you will kindly allow me. It would be the most rank presumption on my part to—”
“No, no,” cried several voices, among which I distinctly recognised that of Prince Kasho; “let us hear what the honourable Englishman has to say.”
“Quite right, gentlemen,” said Togo. “I fully agree with you. I know something of the English; and even though Mr Swinburne may differ from us all, I’ll warrant that he will not suggest any action that is not consonant with our honour, as seamen, or our loyalty to the Emperor. Pray proceed, Mr Swinburne.”
“Very well, then, Admiral, and gentlemen, since you do me the honour to insist, I will,” said I. “But you must permit me to begin by reminding you that I am only a boy, and that this is my first experience of actual warfare; therefore if I venture to express an opinion on what has been justly described as a most momentous question, I do so with the utmost diffidence. At the same time, although I have had no previous experience of war, I should like to say that I have studied the subject deeply and with intense interest. And it is with equal interest that I have listened to the expression of your views on the question now under consideration. I am filled with admiration of the noble and patriotic sentiments which have to-day been spoken within the walls of this cabin—sentiments with which I most cordially agree, since they happen to accurately coincide with my own.
“But, gentlemen, may I dare venture to remind you that patriotism and valour, splendid and admirable as they are, are not the only qualities that should distinguish the soldier or sailor who fights for his country? Inspired by them, a man may no doubt accomplish great things, wonderful things; but we Britons have a proverb which declares that discretion is the better part of valour, and in my humble opinion—which, I repeat, I advance with the utmost diffidence—the present is one of those occasions when valour, as heroic and self-sacrificing as you will, should go hand in hand with discretion.
“With your kind favour I will briefly mention the picture that arose in my mind while Prince Kasho was advocating the plan of taking the entire fleet into Port Arthur roadstead and engaging the Russians in a pitched battle.
“I readily grant you that the information communicated to the Admiral by Hang-won seems to indicate that to-night, or the small hours of to-morrow morning, will afford a magnificent opportunity for such a coup; but—let us consider all the consequences which that coup would entail. It may be that we should be able to take the Russians by surprise; it is exceedingly probable that some of the officers—perhaps a good many of them—will be ashore to-night; but, recognising the fact that Russia and Japan are at war, do you, gentlemen, as reasonable, sensible men, really believe for a moment that the Russian fleet will be left defenceless in an open roadstead, or that the vigilance of the lookouts will be relaxed? I do not. And, if not, the approach of such a formidable array as ours would assuredly be detected, and the alarm given, long before we could arrive within effective striking distance. Then what would be the ultimate result? I have not a doubt that we should be victorious, but at what cost? We must remember, gentlemen, that we should be not only engaging a fleet but slightly inferior in strength to our own, but the batteries as well; and it is in the batteries that our danger lies. I know not what the armament of those batteries may be, but I think we may safely assume that it will consist of weapons heavy enough to sink many of our ships while we are doing our best to sink theirs. With all submission, I think it would be the height of folly for us to assume that we could fight such a battle without serious loss to ourselves. And the point which I wish to emphasise is this: How are we going to make good those losses? The Russians can make good theirs by sending more ships out from Europe; but where are we to get more? I need not labour this question, gentlemen; I am sure you will all see what I mean, and therefore understand why I say that, altogether apart from the question of slavish obedience to orders, or otherwise, I think the Admiral is fully justified in his decision not to risk his ships in such an exceedingly hazardous enterprise.”
“Thank you, Mr Swinburne,” said Togo, offering me his hand as I sat down. “You have spoken pretty much as I expected you would.” Then, turning to one of the officers who had been busily writing all the time that I was speaking, he said:
“Captain Matsumoto, am I correct in supposing that you have been taking down Mr Swinburne’s remarks?”
“Quite correct, sir,” answered the skipper of the Fuji.
“Then,” said Togo, “do me the favour to read them over aloud, in Japanese, for the benefit of those officers who have been unable to closely follow Mr Swinburne’s English.”
This was done; and when Matsumoto sat down there was silence for a few moments, succeeded by a faint murmur of applause. Then the Admiral rose.
“Gentlemen,” he said, “you have now all spoken; and I tender you my most hearty thanks for the frank expression of your several opinions. I have listened with the greatest interest and satisfaction to everything that has been said, but you must pardon me if I say at once, frankly, that you leave me as unconvinced as ever. Or, no; not unconvinced; on the contrary, I am more convinced than ever that, apart, as Mr Swinburne has remarked, from any question of slavish obedience to orders, I should be guilty of a serious, even disastrous, error of judgment, were I to take my battleships and cruisers into Port Arthur roads and give battle to the Russian fleet. The only alternative is to employ the destroyers; and I shall be glad of any suggestions you may be pleased to offer as to the best method of attack.”
Nobody spoke. It was easy to see that the officers of the battleships and cruisers, deeply imbued with the somewhat fantastic and high-flown ideas of the Japanese with regard to the almost divine virtue of heroism and self-sacrifice, were profoundly disappointed that they were not to be afforded an opportunity to display their possession of those virtues.
“Has no one a suggestion to offer?” demanded Togo, in a tone of surprise. “What say you, Swinburne?” turning to me.
“It would greatly help us, sir,” I said, “if Hang-won could give us even an approximate idea of the position of the Russian ships in the roadstead.”
“You are right, sir; it would,” answered the Admiral. And turning to the Chinaman, he addressed to him a question in what I imagined to be Chinese. The man was replying at some length when Togo interrupted him and turned to the skipper of the flagship.
“Captain Ijichi,” said he, “a chart of Port Arthur, if you please.”
The chart was brought, and Hang-won, after poring over it awhile, took a pencil and with meticulous care jotted down certain marks upon it. When he had finished, Togo turned to me and said:
“Here we are, Mr Swinburne. These marks indicate the positions of some of the Russian ships, as nearly as Hang-won can remember them. As you see, they are moored in wedge-shaped formation, the point of the wedge to seaward; and that point is occupied by the Tsarevich, a battleship. Next her, inshore, comes the Poltava, also a battleship, then the Sevastopol, another battleship, and abreast of her, in the second line, the battleship Pobieda. Of the positions of these he is certain, he says, having taken particular notice of them as he came out; but of the rest he is not so sure, except that there are thirteen of them, exclusive of the Askold, all anchored inside the Tsarevich. The Askold is a cruiser, and according to Hang-won she is performing patrol duty to and fro, outside the rest of the fleet. You will readily recognise her from the fact that she is the only craft with five funnels.
“There is another point in favour of our employing destroyers. It appears that Admiral Stark sends out a destroyer flotilla every night to patrol the coast as far as Dalny—there it is, about twenty miles north-east of Port Arthur. If, upon approaching the roadstead, our boats show the lights usually exhibited by the Russian destroyers—a white light above a red—on their return from Dalny, they ought to be able to get right in among the Russian fleet and do a tremendous amount of damage before their identity is discovered, and I shall confidently look for important results accordingly. Now, gentlemen, I have my own idea as to how the attack should be conducted; but I have heard it said that in many councillors there is wisdom, therefore I should be glad to have your views on the subject.”
And, one after the other, the officers present gave them, the general opinion being that the destroyers ought to approach to within about five miles of the shore at a moderate speed, showing no lights; then dash in at top speed, discharging torpedoes right and left, and continue to do so, regardless of consequences, until every Russian ship was destroyed.
Finally, I was called for to give my opinion; and again I found myself obliged to differ from the others.
“If I were leading the attack, sir,” I said, “I should time myself to arrive at about eleven o’clock, that being the time, I imagine, when the banquet and the special performance will both be at their height. At the distance of about five miles from the shore I should slow down, instead of increasing speed, because I should then have no fear of flames escaping from my funnels and so betraying my approach. I should then divide my force into two, one of which should sweep well away to the nor’ard, while the other sheered off toward the south, my object being to get my boats well into the concealment of the shadow of the high land east and west of the roadstead. Under the cover of this shadow I should creep close along shore until I was well inside the enemy’s fleet, when I should wheel outward, get good way on my boats, and torpedo the enemy, ship after ship, as I came out. By this plan I should be heading seaward, ready to make good my escape as soon as the alarm was given, which I believe will be within a few seconds after the first torpedo is fired. Then I should run for it out to sea, at top speed; for I am convinced that, once the alarm is given and the searchlights are turned on, we shall be afforded no further opportunity to do mischief; and I see no sense in sacrificing ships and lives uselessly. I have heard the remark made, more than once, that it is a glorious thing to die for one’s country and one’s Emperor. So it is—when the sacrifice of one’s life is necessary to secure a certain object; but I maintain that it is still more glorious to live for one’s country. One live man can render more useful service to his country than a hundred dead ones.”
Again there was a little half-hearted murmur of applause.
But Togo expressed his approval in no half-hearted manner. Dashing his fist upon the table he exclaimed:
“By Hachiman Sama!” (the Japanese god of War), “you are right, Mr Swinburne. You told us, a little while ago, that you are only a boy, but you have the brains and wisdom of a man, sir. Your plan of attack is the right one—cannot you see that it is, gentlemen?—and it shall be followed. By attempting the other plan, we should in all probability lose every boat and every man, with no better result; while, by adopting Mr Swinburne’s plan, we may save at least two-thirds of them. Now, gentlemen, before we terminate the council, has any one a better plan to propose?” And he glanced round the cabin, inquiringly.
No one answered. Then Captain Matsumoto, commanding the battleship Fuji, rose.
“As one whose knowledge of the august English language is perhaps superior to that of most present—your honourable self, sir, excepted,” he said, addressing the Admiral, “I should like to say that I have listened to the remarks of the honourable commander of the Kasanumi with profound interest. His doctrine, that it is more glorious to live than to die for one’s Emperor, is a new one to us Japanese, and I confess that for the moment it shocked me, as I saw that it shocked most of us. But, if one comes to reflect, one sees that there is sound sense in it; therefore I should like to record my entire approval of the projected plan of attack upon the enemy’s fleet. For, by adopting it, there is a good prospect that many lives and many craft, which would otherwise be uselessly sacrificed, may be preserved to render further valuable service to Japan and its Emperor.”
The applause this time was real and hearty enough, and several of the officers who were sitting near me offered me their hands and smilingly complimented me.
“Very well, then, gentlemen, that matter is settled, and most satisfactorily, too, in my humble opinion. And, now, as to details. Divisions 1, 2, and 3 of the destroyer flotilla will attack the fleet at Port Arthur; Divisions 4 and 5 will proceed to Dalny in quest of the Russian destroyers said to reconnoitre in that direction nightly; and all will inflict as much damage as possible upon the enemy. Captain Matsunaga of the Asashio will command Divisions 1, 2, and 3; while Captain Nagai will command Divisions 4 and 5. The flotilla will start at five o’clock this evening. You are dismissed, gentlemen. I thank you for your honourable attendance, and the assistance which you have rendered me.”