Chapter XVII: Introduction (15)

The foreigners resident in Peking and Tien-tsin became very restless under the impending invasion of China by the Japanese. Assaults on foreigners in Peking and its environs, which have been of constant occurrence during the last ten years, increased in frequency and gravity. Several English and American families withdrew to Shanghai because of the prevalence of street rowdyism. Tien-tsin was full of troops from the interior, but nearly all of them were the merest rabble, wretchedly clad, mutinous through lack of pay and insufficient rations, and useless for real war because of their antiquated weapons. Their continued presence in Tien-tsin was a distinct danger alike to Chinese and Europeans. An imperial edict published in Peking assumed full responsibility for the protection of foreign residents, denounced rowdyism, and ordered the punishment of certain culprits who had assaulted travelers. It assured the strangers the protection of their persons and their property, and was especially favorable to missionaries. The whole tone of the edict was considered highly satisfactory, and yet the government had failed to punish those who were responsible for the assaults and had taken no cognizance of the murder of a missionary, except to permit the governor of the province where the crime was committed to retain his high position.

A rebellion broke out in the district of Jeho, in the province of Chihli early in October, consequent on the rumored invasion of the Japanese. The imperial summer residence was in this city. Another Chinese rebellion broke out in the province of Hoopih about one hundred miles from Hankow. The local authorities attempted to quell the first rising but failed. Some of their soldiers were killed and others joined the rebels. Two mandarins lost their lives. In consequence of the urgent demands of the imperial authorities the province had been quite denuded of troops and there was practically no means at the command of the authorities to keep them in check. The Europeans at Hankow were seriously alarmed and many of them withdrew to Shanghai.

The emperor of China, early in October, began to take the initiative, attempting to infuse new energy into the national defense. It was indeed reported that he had disguised himself, and in person visited Tien-tsin, accompanied only by a few trusted servants, in order to see for himself what was going on, and particularly to learn the truth as to the alleged incapacity of Li Hung Chang to carry on the arrangements for the war. It was not, however, the emperor who made the journey in disguise, but his former tutor and trusted adviser Weng Toung Ho, the President of the Board of Revenue, or Finance Department. He also went to Port Arthur, Wei-hai-wei, and other places, and thoroughly informed himself of the state of affairs, civil, naval, and military. On returning to Peking he made an exhaustive report to the emperor, upon which the latter immediately began to take more interest in public affairs. He declined to sign documents until they had been previously read and explained to him, and called for special reports from the naval and military commanders. His next act was to summon to Peking the viceroys and governors of provinces, to receive from them accounts of the steps taken to comply with the demands of the imperial government, and to obtain from them their views as to the state of affairs. It was believed however by foreigners most able to judge that throughout all these actions the dowager empress of China was the active power in control. It was also believed that she was really a friend to Li Hung Chang, and that he would not suffer ultimate destruction unless she turned against him.

Another important action taken by the emperor was to confer the highest grade of the Order of the Double Dragon upon Captain Von Hannecken for his services at the naval battle of the Yalu River and to place him under practically sole control of the naval forces of China.

Constantine von Hannecken, the German officer who was put in supreme control of what was left of the Chinese navy, had already seen a great deal of service in the war with Japan before his promotion to that post. He was on board the Kow-shing when she was overhauled and sunk by the Japanese cruiser Naniwa-Kan, with a loss of more than a thousand Chinese soldiers. Von Hannecken was left struggling in the water when the Kow-shing sank, but had the rare good fortune to be picked up by a boat. Still more recently he was high in command of the Chinese fleet at the disastrous battle of the Yalu River. He was slightly wounded but was soon ready for action again. This brave man was born in Wiesbaden, Germany, in 1854, and was a son of the late Lieutenant-General von Hannecken. He served the usual term in the German army, and in 1879 went to China, where he was soon high in favor with Li Hung Chang. He mastered the Chinese language in a single year. His technical military knowledge, amiability, and tact, gained for him the position of personal adjutant to Li Hung Chang, with a large salary. He devoted much of his time to the construction of bridges and forts, and the fortifications at Port Arthur and Wei-hai-wei were built under his personal direction. He was rapidly promoted to the highest military places within the gift of Li Hung Chang and the government, and received buttons, feathers, and jackets galore.

About a year before the outbreak of the war, having grown rich in the service of the dragon throne, he resigned from the Chinese army and returned to his home in Germany. After a stay of a few months he sailed again for China with the intention of settling his affairs there and retiring to Germany. The war with Japan changed this plan, and he promptly reëntered the service of China.

THE ATTACK ON PORT ARTHUR.
Japanese Drawing.
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Admiral Ting and Captain Von Hannecken visited Wei-hai-wei to examine its defenses, and satisfied themselves that the harbor was practically impregnable from the sea. Japanese war vessels continually patrolled all parts of the Gulf of Pechili, and were frequently seen from Port Arthur, Chefoo and Wei-hai-wei. The Japanese fleet was also sighted several times ten miles off Shan-hai-kwan, less than two hundred miles from Peking.

The main body of the Chinese army was now entrenched in a strong position protected by a line of rectangular forts newly constructed across the northeast border of the province of Chihli. The Manchoos were held in reserve nearer Tien-tsin than Peking. Sung Kwei, the emperor’s father-in-law, was in command of five thousand picked Manchoo soldiers at Shan-hai-kwan, which was a city of great strategic importance, the starting point of a great highroad to Peking from the coast.

General Sung, formerly commander of Port Arthur, was appointed to be Generalissimo of the Pei-Yang army corps in manchooria and Chief Commander of the Manchoo levies, with the exception of the Kirin division, which remained under the command of the Tartar general. The Chinese headquarters were established at Chiu-lien-tcheng. Generals Yeh and Wei were degraded by imperial edict.

On the 15th of October the newly-elected Japanese Diet met for a short preliminary session at Hiroshima, where the mikado had established his headquarters. The election of officers was immediately proceeded with, Mr. Kusumoto being chosen president, and Mr. Shimada vice-president. The formal opening of the Parliament took place two days later. The mikado in his speech announced that he had decided to convene an extraordinary session, and had given direction to his ministers to submit for the deliberation of the Diet a bill providing for increased expenditure for the army and navy, which was an important matter. His Majesty declared that he was greatly pained that China should have forgotten her duties in regard to the maintenance of peace in the east in conjunction with Japan, she having brought about the present state of affairs. “However,” proceeded the emperor, “as hostilities have begun we shall not stop until we have obtained our utmost objects.” In conclusion, His Majesty expressed the hope that all subjects of the empire would co-operate with the government, in order to promote the restoration of peace by means of the great triumph of the Japanese arms.

The president of the two chambers of the Diet presented an address in reply to the speech from the throne, thanking the mikado for advancing the imperial standard and for personally assuming the direction of the war. The victories which had been secured by the Japanese arms by land and sea were the natural result. The address in conclusion said: “His Majesty rightly considers China the enemy of civilization. We will comply with the imperial desire to destroy the barbarous obstinacy of that power.”

In the House of Peers, on October 19, Count Ito, the premier, made an elaborate speech in support of the government measures for meeting the expenses of the war, and defended Japan against the charge of having precipitated the hostilities. He narrated in detail the circumstances which had led up to the war, and read the correspondence which had passed between the mikado’s government and the authorities at Peking, before the rupture of diplomatic relations. The premier’s statement made a great impression, and intensified the keenly patriotic feeling manifested by the members of the Diet, not a dissenting voice being raised against the ministerial bills. The following day the war budget of 150,000,000 yen passed both houses unanimously. This was the most important part of the proceedings of Parliament. The two houses fully demonstrated that they desired to hold up the hands of the government, and grant everything which might be asked to insure the success of the Japanese arms.

Simultaneously with the opening of Parliament an important diplomatic move was made by the Japanese. Now that Japan was practically in undisputed possession of Corea, the moment was considered opportune for the carrying out of those thorough reforms in the internal government of the country, to which Japanese statesmen looked forward as the best guarantee against foreign influence in the future. In order to strengthen the hands of Mr. Otori, the Japanese minister at Seoul, the emperor selected Count Inouye, minister of the interior, to proceed to the Corean capital to act as special adviser to Mr. Otori.

The Japanese Parliament had occasion to welcome an important Corean messenger. The second son of the peninsular monarch left Chemulpo on the day the session began, as a special envoy to the mikado, returning the visit made to the king by the Marquis Sainonji. The young prince and his embassy, consisting of eight leading nobles, were received by the mikado and his principal ministers, being welcomed most cordially.

Just prior to the opening of the session, the British government addressed a circular note to the ministers of the great powers, suggesting intervention in the affairs of the east. The Chinese were in readiness to make terms of peace, conscious of the enormous sacrifices and risks which would have to be incurred before she could bring her immense reserves of strength into action, and being devoid of military ambition. The British cabinet council which decided upon this letter met on October 4, and three days later it was generally known, in spite of government denials, that the action had been taken. The reception of it was not cordial. In reply to the proposals put forward by England, the German government formally intimated that it was not prepared to join in any measures for circumscribing the political results of the conflict between China and Japan. The French government shared the same view, and the United States was earnest in the same expression. Russia, too, decided to avoid interference in connection with other nations, preferring to retain the opportunity of individual interference. On the part of Russia, the military commanders in the Amoor province were ordered to hold troops in readiness, in view of the fact that the situation in China might make intervention necessary. There seems to be good ground for believing true the rumor, oft repeated after the battle of the Yalu, that China had made to Japan overtures for peace, on the basis of an acknowledgment of Corea’s independence, and payment of an indemnity for the losses and expenses of the war. The proposal was rejected by Japan as inadequate. Altogether it seemed that the initiative taken by the British foreign office was premature to say the least.

The mikado, in his address to Parliament, made no allusion to the proposals for peace, but seemed rather to look on the prosecution of the war to the end as the sole means of insuring lasting tranquility. With England’s effort for European intervention in mind, Parliament adopted a resolution that, “No foreign interference will be suffered to obstruct the great object of the national policy, to secure a guarantee of permanent peace in the orient.” A renewed offer of mediation in the interest of peace was made to China and Japan in the name of some of the European powers, after the adjournment of Parliament. China declared her willingness to conclude an armistice or a peace on any reasonable terms; Japan refused to consider the proposal until it should be made directly at Hiroshima “From a quarter formally accredited and empowered to offer it.”

The movements of troops, both Japanese and Chinese, were now multiplying to such an extent, that except for one familiar with the geography of eastern Asia, they were very confusing. Almost every day it was reported that some Japanese force had made a landing on the Chinese coast, rumor after rumor of this sort being circulated and denied. Chinese troops massed in the vicinities already named, their numbers constantly increasing. An army of five thousand Japanese was taken by transports along the east coast of Corea to Possiet harbor, near the boundary of Siberia, and five thousand Russian troops were posted on the other side, facing them, to guard the Siberian frontier. Corea was being steadily cleared of Chinese stragglers, deserters from the late army and others, who if allowed to be at large might develop into bandits or spies. The restlessness of the natives in the province of Chulla was difficult to restrain, and a combined force of Japanese and Corean troops was despatched to the district to quell the outbreak. Rumors of land battles in the north of Corea, on the lower Yalu, were circulated every day, but for a time were foundationless. Towards the end of October, troops began to pour into Tien-tsin in large numbers daily, and were disposed for the defense of the capital. Most of the new arrivals were infantry, the bulk of the cavalry being sent to the Manchoorian provinces to the northeast.

SURRENDER OF CHINESE GENERAL AND STAFF.

The fleets of the two nations were now again in fighting condition, although the loss of many vessels suffered by the Chinese at the Yalu had left them in strength far inferior to the Japanese. The Chinese fleet was concentrated at Port Arthur and Wei-hai-wei, where it was believed to be safe from attack or favorably situated for offensive operations. The Japanese squadron under Admiral Ito was concentrated at Ping-Yang. On October 18 the last of the transports carrying the second Japanese army steamed out of the harbor of Ujina on their way to Hiroshima, where they were held in readiness for active operations.

The extraordinary session of the Japanese diet at Hiroshima was closed October 22, all the bills submitted by the government having passed unanimously. Before separating, the Diet voted a memorial urgently requesting the officers of the government to execute the desires of the Mikado, in order that Japan might achieve a complete victory over the Chinese, whereby peace would be restored in the east and the glory of the Japanese nation increased. A resolution was passed unanimously, placing upon record the thanks of the nation to the army and navy, for the gallantry and patriotism displayed by all ranks, and for the splendid success which had attended the Japanese arms.

On October 24 Count Yamagata, commander-in-chief of the Japanese forces in Corea, threw a small force across the Yalu, thus invading Chinese territory. In order to understand the subsequent operations, a brief topographical explanation is here necessary. At a little distance below Wi-ju, the Yalu, flowing west, receives a tributary, the Ai, coming from the northeast. Chiu-lien lies in the western, or obtuse-angled corner formed by the junction of the two rivers, some distance back from their banks. Within the eastern, or acute-angled corner the land rises to an eminence called Hu-shan. A traveler by the main road from Wi-ju to Chiu-lien, having crossed the Yalu, must pass on the left or to the west of Hu-shan, which overlooks the highway, and thus reaching the Ai must cross it also to Chiu-lien. The Chinese had intrenched Hu-shan, and posted there a force estimated by the Japanese at three thousand five hundred, but subsequently alleged by prisoners to have aggregated seven or eight thousand.

The plan pursued by Field-Marshal Count Yamagata was to occupy a long stretch of the Yalu River, so that his point of passage would remain to the last uncertain, and any flanking movement on the east by the cavalry, of which the enemy possessed a large force, was rendered impossible. Having rested his troops and completed his arrangement for a final advance, he threw a battalion across the river under Colonel Sato, at Shai-ken-chau, a place ten miles up stream from Wi-ju. The passage was made by wading and was unopposed. The detachment was composed entirely of riflemen, no cavalry or artillery accompanying them. A Chinese earthwork had been thrown up at this point to oppose a landing, but a slight deviation enabled the detachment to cross without interference. An attack was immediately opened on the Chinese position, which was garrisoned only by a few artillerymen and infantry. They fled after the first two or three rounds had been fired, and the Japanese captured the works with a rush. A regiment of Manchoorian cavalry arrived as the little garrison fled, and covered their retreat. The Chinese made for the batteries constructed lower down the river, the infantry throwing away their arms in their flight. The Chinese loss was about twenty killed and wounded, while on the Japanese side not a man was hit. The Japanese force now moved down the river and captured the Chinese fortifications at the Suckochi ferry, where they passed the night. The Japanese engineers had pontoons in readiness for passage across the river.

During the night of the 24th, the Japanese pontoon men threw a bridge across the Yalu at the ferry, and at dawn the main body of the army, having passed over unopposed, commenced an attack against Hu-shan, Colonel Sato’s brigade coming into action simultaneously from the other side. The battle began at 6:30 A.M., and lasted until a few minutes past 10. At first the Chinese held their ground with tolerable firmness, but presently, finding their position swept by rifle and artillery fire from a hill on their right flank, of which possession had been taken by a brigade under Major-General Osako, they broke and fled across the Ai to Chiu-lien. The reserves, however, did not join the rout. Posted advantageously, they preserved their formation and maintained a resolute fire, until thrown into confusion by a flanking movement, which placed a large force under Major-General Tachimi to the rear of their left. Then they too gave way, and retreated in confusion across the Ai, so hotly pursued that they had to abandon ten pieces of artillery. The Japanese had lost twenty killed and eighty-three wounded; the Chinese two hundred and fifty killed and a somewhat large number of wounded. Two divisions of the army then crossed the Ai and encamped on the east of Chiu-lien, the brigades of Major-General Tachimi and Colonel Sato posting themselves on the same side of the Ai, but further north, so as to menace the same road from Chiu-lien northward to Feng-hwang. Field Marshal Yamagata and Lieutenant-General Nodzu took up their quarters in a farmer’s house to the northeast of Hu-shan. Thus with all the advantages of elevated ground, a position fortified at leisure, and a force ample for defensive purposes, the feebleness and faulty strategy of the Chinese converted into a mere skirmish what ought to have been a sanguinary battle.

The following morning, October, 26, before dawn, a general advance was commenced against Chiu-lien. It was supposed that the enemy would make an obstinate stand there, since after Feng-hwang the fortified town of Chiu-lien ranks as a position of eminent importance in the defense of southwestern Manchooria. Moreover, throughout the night a cannonade had been kept up from the town against the Japanese camp, and though the invading columns were posted so that the enemy’s missiles passed harmlessly over them, this resolute service of guns seemed to promise stout fighting on the following day. But in truth the artillery was employed merely in the vain hope of intimidating the assailants, or in order to cover the flight of the garrison. The Japanese encountered no resistance whatever. At eight o’clock in the morning they entered Chiu-lien. The enemy had decamped in the direction of Feng-hwang before dawn, leaving behind him almost everything, twenty-two guns, three hundred tents, large stores of ammunition and quantities of grain and forage.

The series of defeats following the crossing of the Yulu River by the Japanese seemed to complete the Chinese demoralization in that vicinity. The defeated forces probably numbered more than twenty thousand men, the victorious army was considerably inferior in numbers, the batteries were well built, and the position was a strong one. The continuous loss of artillery, and throwing away of muskets and rifles wherever the Chinese made retreat, was gradually depleting the stores of arms possessed by the forces in Manchooria, leaving them unable to fight even if they had desired to. A little fighting evidently went a long way with them. Did they carry away their artillery and stores, these precipitate retreats might possess some strategical character, but they simply saved their own lives, leaving all their material of war behind them. The troops at Chiu-lien were not ill-disciplined or badly armed from a Chinese point of view. Coming from Port Arthur, from Taku, and from Lu-tai, they ranked among the best soldiers China could put into the field. If such men proved themselves so conspicuously invertebrate, it was to be questioned whether or not the addition to their number of a few thousand Tartars would make them stand more stiffly in a subsequent conflict. It seemed even to the friends of China that her capacity for resisting the invasion of Manchooria in the face of well-organized and resolute attack, was simply contemptible.

The second invasion of Chinese territory was made by the second Japanese army corps, twenty-two thousand strong, under the command of General Count Oyama. These forces sailed in transports from Hiroshima, and on October 24 commenced landing in a little cove northeast of Talien-wan Bay and protected by the Elliot islands from the open sea. Talien-wan Bay was avoided because the Chinese were known to have made some preparations to resist a landing there. The peninsula which juts out southwestward between the Gulf of Liao-Tung and Corea Bay is known variously as the Liao-Tung peninsula and the Kwang Tung peninsula. Every yard of it was familiar to the Japanese military staff, and had been included in their system of minute cartography, so that whatever point they selected was well chosen. Up to the last moment it had been supposed by the general public that Port Adams, on the west of the peninsula, would be the port of debarkation, but as that would have involved the passing of a great flotilla of transports into Pechili Gulf, it was considered too hazardous an operation. The last of the flotilla of fifty transports left Hiroshima October 18, and the fleet having assembled at Shimonoseki, steamed westward on the morning of the 19th. A distance of eight hundred miles had to be traversed, and in this case as in all previous operations everything worked with smoothness and success. On the evening of the 23rd the great flotilla reached its destination, and on the following morning the landing was commenced.

There was no resistance. The Pei-yang squadron did not show. Had there been any ordinary exercise of vigilance on the part of Admiral Ting’s war ships they must have sighted the Japanese flotilla in ample time to strike at it. That they would have effected nothing in the face of the convoying squadron may be taken for granted, but if the prospect of failure deterred them from making any effort to protect their own headquarters, China’s only dockyard and really important naval station in the north, they certainly deserved the indifference with which the Japanese treated them. From the time of the naval battle of September 17, the Pei-yang squadron played no part in the war. Many attempts were made to prove that it had not been vitally hurt in the encounter, and that a few days would suffice to put it in a thorough state of repair. But whether repaired or not it disappeared from the scene, and the Japanese cruisers thenceforth roamed at will along the Chinese coasts.

With the move towards the investment of Port Arthur, and the crossing of the Yalu, the war entered upon a new phase. In selecting Port Arthur as an objective point, the Japanese were well advised. By such an attack a dockyard of the first importance was threatened, and full advantage of naval superiority could be taken. The Kwang Tung peninsula, or “Regent’s Sword,” was peculiarly inaccessible by land, while a power in command of the sea could land men at pleasure at several points within a short distance of Port Arthur, and with a small force only could isolate it from the mainland.

Two days after the landing of troops on the peninsula, the collection of a third army at Hiroshima commenced. This force was to number twenty-four thousand, and be under the command of Lieutenant-General Viscount Takashima. At the same time another revolt of some little magnitude arose in the south of Corea, and two thousand rebels attacked the quarters of the Japanese commissary at Anpo. The malcontents were afterwards dispersed by a military force though not without difficulty.

We have now reached the end of October. The first Japanese army is safely installed on the north bank of the Yalu River in Manchoorian territory, threatening the road to Mukden, Niuchwang and the intervening cities. The second army is safe on shore on the Kwang Tung peninsula, threatening China’s proudest naval station. The next month will see the fall of Port Arthur and the practical destruction of all Chinese hopes of ultimate success.

REVIEW OF THE PROGRESS OF THE WAR TO THE
FIRST OF NOVEMBER.

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Characteristics of the two Nations in War—China’s Ignorance of the Coasts of Corea—Japan’s Knowledge of Chinese Topography and Climate—Patriotism in the Two Countries—Bad Judgment of China in Methods of Conducting the War—The Governmental Weather-Vane and its Revolutions—No Commander-in-Chief for the Chinese Army—Official Corruption in Civil as Well as Military Officials—The Battles of Ping-Yang and the Yalu River—Handling the Forces of the Enemies.

At this period in the war, occurs a lull which makes it possible and wise to take a glance at the whole course of affairs during the hostilities, since the declaration three months earlier. The war has advanced far enough to prove the mettle of both combatants, and to furnish data for judging of the probable issue of the struggle, at least from a purely military point of view. At the beginning of November, prophets were quite well equipped with material for predictions that were surely not to be disappointed, and it is from the aspect at this date that the present chapter takes its view. On the one side there is little but praise to be offered. The Japanese have proved themselves assiduous students of all modern armaments, and have in many points bettered their European instruction. They have made good their claim to be the rising power of the Orient.

Of the Chinese a diametrically opposite account must be given. From a military standpoint nothing favorable can be said of them, and the only palliation of their failure is that they were wholly unprepared for an unexpected aggression. The course of the war has brought out in strong relief what has not always been clearly recognized, the essential differences between the two belligerent nations. A stronger contrast is scarcely imaginable than that between China and Japan, though they are so near and have been nursed on a common literature. With passionate effort the Japanese have ransacked the western world for its treasures of knowledge, and have vigorously applied what they have learned. The Chinese, on the other hand, have set their faces against the science of other nations, and with an unhappy mixture of apathy and contempt have rejected the teaching which has pressed upon them. In the same spirit they have spurned the knowledge of their own country and of their own forces, while the Japanese have been for years making a minute study of both, and possess maps and details which the Chinese themselves have not and do not care for. The Chinese have carried on a large trade with the Yalu river, but the government knew nothing of the coast. Captain Calder of Port Arthur made a holiday expedition to the Manchoo-Corean coast, found the country beautiful, and recommended the naval authorities to let the cadets go and improve themselves by surveying it. Nothing was done, the sole reason being that the incidental expenses of the ships would be increased by being at sea, and the captains would not save so much of their monthly allowance. Now the only survey the Chinese admiral possesses even of the scene of the late naval battle, is the outline made by Captain Calder himself. The Japanese navy has complete charts both of the Corean and the Chinese coasts. In the summer of 1893 a small expedition of Japanese disguised as Chinese, in a native boat surveyed the islands and coasts of the Gulf of Pechili, spending eight days in the immediate neighborhood of Port Arthur. The topography and physiography of North China have been their study for years.

A Japanese physician even devoted a whole year to the climate and pathology. With his headquarters in Tien-tsin, where he plied the foreign doctors incessantly with queries, this Japanese investigator thoroughly explored the province of Chihli, and probably knows more of the climatic conditions of North China than any other living man. He pretended he had the intention of practicing among the Chinese, as possibly he may in the not distant future. The Chinese have started exotic medical schools, but they have not overcome the elementary difficulty about dissection, and the enterprise is but half hearted. As for employing competent men to gather knowledge, the whole idea is foreign to the Chinese official mind, and they only accept ungraciously as a gift the results of the explorations of enthusiasts for science. It is not, therefore, the accident of being a little earlier in the field, or quicker in movement to seize the benefit of an opportunity, that gives the Japanese such crushing advantages over the Chinese, but rather a deep-seated, congenital love of improvement on one side and hatred of it on the other.

Another essential difference between the people is their exhibition of patriotism. The Japanese are saturated with it, while the Chinese have none. The instinct of loyalty is there, and it can be called out by any man, native or foreign, who is worthy of it, but in the sense of nationality the Chinese have no capacity for enthusiasm, and the people as a whole are indifferent as to who rules them, so long as they are left to cultivate their gardens. For want of a patriotic focus, what would elsewhere be treachery is in China a commonplace of official practices; every man to the limit of his small ability selling his country for his private benefit, and no one able to cast a stone at his neighbor. In Japan it would be impossible to get a man to betray his fatherland; in China where is the man who would not? From the same root springs the incredible difference between the peoples in their treatment of soldiers and sailors. In the one country they are made heroes of, the people at home send delicacies to the troops abroad, honor the dead, and nurse the wounded. In the other the men are treated worse than dogs, robbed of their small pay, deserted, discarded, or grossly neglected by their leaders whenever they can be dispensed with and their monthly pay saved. Attachment between men and officers in China is a rare, though not an unknown thing, for the Chinese are, after all, human at heart, if one can but penetrate the pile of hereditary corruption which has covered up the divine spark.

The foregoing are but examples which might be multiplied indefinitely, of the antitheses of Chinese and Japanese character and mode of action. If to all this is added the fact that the Japanese are a people who delight in war, while the Chinese abominate it, no further search is needed for explanation of the actual result. It is simply ignorance overcome by science, indifference by energy.

The Chinese have conducted the campaign in the manner those best acquainted with them would have predicted, doing on most occasions the utterly wrong thing, or stumbling on the right thing at the wrong time in the wrong way. But the most pessimistic prophet could hardly have predicted the utter inaptitude of the Chinese military movements. It is not only that they have failed to learn the modern art of war, but that they have forgotten the old methods. It was thought that Chinese troops, though deficient in enterprise, might at least make a respectable defense. They were advised never to risk a pitched battle, but to retreat slowly, giving trouble to the enemy by night attacks on his baggage, and compelling him to use up an army corps to keep open his line of communication. They failed in every point, and allowed themselves to be chased and caught like sheep, losing stores, guns, and munitions. When all else failed, it was said that winter would come to their assistance, as the Japanese could never stand the cold, while the Chinese and Manchoos were inured to it. But when the cold came it was found that it was not the Japanese but the Chinese who suffered, having abandoned their warm clothing in precipitate flight. Their heart was never in the business, and nothing therefore could go right with the Chinese conduct of the war.

While the war was incubating, China had to make up her mind how she was to meet the aggression of the Japanese in Corea. Candid friends, who knew well that her inchoate forces could never be a match for any organized army whatsoever, commended strictly defensive strategy. She was caught in the false position—in a military sense, though it was politically correct—of having a small force isolated in southern Corea, while the Japanese were occupying the capital in strength. The fighting value of the respective fleets was as yet an unknown quantity, but on the Japanese side there was confidence in their own superiority, and on the part of the Chinese a tacit acquiescence in that estimate. Under such circumstances an over-sea campaign was an absurdity for China, and the commonest prudence dictated that the small garrison at Asan be withdrawn before the outbreak of war.

This crisis in affairs was met, as crises usually are in China, by divided counsels; moral cowardice on the part of those who knew, blind rage on the part of those who did not know, and the submission of the judgment of the informed to the arbitrary decrees and even the insidious advice of the uninformed. To speak plainly, Li Hang Chang, on whom the burden of the war would in all cases rest, and who knew something, though very little, of the power of discipline and organization, and who from the first was strongly opposed to the intervention in Corea, which was forced on him by pressure applied from Peking, was for withdrawing the garrison from Asan. In answer to his memorials to the throne, he had obtained the imperial authority and had hired transports to bring the troops over into Chinese territory. But other counsels supervened, and Li Hung Chang refrained from giving effect to his own views. As the Japanese were by imperial fiat to be driven out of Corea, it followed that the garrison at Asan must be strengthened, and China committed herself to the conditions of war dictated by the enemy, an offensive war oversea, which was entirely beyond China’s capacity.

There were still discussions and hesitations up to the moment of dispatching troops by sea to Corea. When the expedition of troops was seen to be inevitable, the Chinese were advised to take at least the precaution of having the transports escorted by a strong naval squadron. This was decided to be done, and the ill-fated Kow-shing left Taku on the clear understanding that an escort of warships would join her outside Wei-hai-wei, which was two hundred and twenty miles distant, and roughly half way to Asan. But before the transport had got so far on her voyage, the official weathercock had set in another direction. The diplomatic Yuan-si-Kai, former resident in Corea, where he had done so much to irritate the Japanese, now advised that the appearance of warships with the transports might give umbrage to the Japanese, and in deference to this opinion, before the pendulum had time to swing back, the Kow-shing with twelve hundred men on board, was sent unprotected to the Bay of Asan. The Japanese consular establishment, with its wonderfully organized intelligence department, was still in Tien-tsin, perfectly informed of everything that was being said and done in the most secret places, and making free use of the telegraph wires.

With the tragic destruction of the Kow-shing, the war was begun most disadvantageously to the Chinese. Being by one and the same stroke deprived of the expected re-enforcements and cut off from the sea, the small force at Asan had either to fight to the death, surrender, or make good their retreat by a long and dangerous flank march. This last course was adopted, and after making sufficient stand to cover their retreat, not without inflicting loss on the enemy, they succeeded in joining the Chinese army which had entered Corea from the north-west. The numbers of the retreating force were given as four thousand, but they were certainly less.

The simultaneous engagements by land and sea on the same day, July 25, proved that the Japanese had determined to begin the war in earnest. The naval action in which two Chinese ships were waylaid as they were leaving the Corean coast, served to prove that the Chinese ships could both fight and run away, and that the Japanese ships were very ably manœuvred, but the affair had little other significance.

Enraged by the sinking of the transport in time of nominal peace, the emperor of China ordered the fleet, over the head of Li Hung Chang, to pursue the enemy to destruction. In obedience to the imperial mandate, the Pei-yang squadron, in the early days of August, steamed for the Corean coast, but before sighting it steamed back again. The viceroy Li then interested himself to obtain a modification of the decree, and the fleet was commanded to remain on the defensive for the special protection of the Gulf of Pechili, which instruction held good until the middle of September, when the fleet was forced to accept battle off the Yalu river.

August 1st, troops were ordered to enter Corean territory from the Manchoorian side, and in the course of the month a considerable force had filtered its way to the city of Ping-Yang, the strongest strategical point in western Corea, and even to a considerable distance beyond. The massing of these troops was conducted in the old rough-and-tumble, half-hearted Chinese fashion. There was no head, but separate and rival commands, each general looking only to the viceroy, Li Hung Chang for orders and supplies, and receiving more of the former than of the latter.

These Chinese generals are an old world curiosity, scarcely conceivable in our age. They might be described as army contractors rather than fighting agents, for like the civil mandarins they buy their posts as an investment. The battalion or camp is farmed, as regards its expenses, by the general, who draws from government a lump sum for the maintenance of the force, and makes his economies according to his conscience, by falsifying his muster roll and defrauding his men. At the battle or rout of Ping-Yang there were soldiers who were three, four, and even five months in arrears of pay, some generals deliberately calculating on the casualties of war to reduce the number of eventual claimants on the pay fund. The most notorious offender, General Wei of Ping-Yang notoriety, who had less than half the troops he drew pay for, and these mostly untrained coollies, hustled into the ranks to take the place of unpaid deserters, and in whose program fighting had no place, had paid certain influential persons liberally for his command. Desertion, it may be observed in passing, is not regarded as a calamity by an avaricious Chinese general.

Chinese officers are however by no means all abandoned to money making. Some are liberal with their funds, just as some are brave and loyal, and are backed by equally brave and loyal soldiers. The efficiency of a force depends altogether on the personality of the general, and as in feudal times in Europe, it is to their chief rather than to any government or country that the troops feel the ties of allegiance. As the leader is, therefore, so are the men. General Tso-pao-kwei for example, who bore to his grave the honors of the fight at Ping-Yang, was a man well known to many foreigners of different classes, missionary and others, and the unanimity of good opinion of him is quite remarkable. He was not only brave, but a courteous and kindly gentleman who gained the affections of all around. A Mohammedan himself, all his soldiers were of the same faith, and they stood shoulder to shoulder like heroes in the face of overpowering odds.

During the month of August, while the Japanese forces were advancing upon Ping-Yang in three columns, there were outpost skirmishes in which the Japanese were frequently worsted. These affairs were naturally enough reported by the Chinese commanders concerned, according to their lights, as victories, and when it is remembered how the view of each is bounded by the horizon of his own camp, it is easy to see how they could deceive themselves as to the significance of such apparent success. The truth seems to be that the Chinese commanders in and about Ping-Yang did not realize that they were surrounded, each perhaps thinking it was the other’s business. They had sent out no scouts, nor posted videttes to watch the mountain passes to the north of them. These elementary military precautions had been pressed on Li Hung Chang, who sent repeated orders to the front to have them seen to; but nothing was done, for according to the vicious tradition of the Chinese service, the word is taken for the deed, and orders which are either impracticable or inconvenient are simply ignored or forgotten, without the delinquent being ever called to account. Spacious but wholly fictitious excuses would in any case serve the turn in a system whose fetich is universal sham. Perhaps, as there was no commander-in-chief, but a number of independent commands, duties which concerned the army at large fell within the sphere of no one in particular. But in whatever manner it came about, the result was that the Chinese remained in comatose ignorance of the intentions of the enemy, until the only thing left was precipitate retreat.

The affair of Ping-Yang was observed by one military expert, a Russian, who speaks in high terms of the precision and completeness of the Japanese equipment and organization, but the opposition had been so contemptible throughout the war that the military qualities of the Japanese have not been seriously put to the proof. They remain a theoretical quantity. So far as the campaign had gone, to November 1, the chief obstacles encountered had been bad roads, standing crops, and sickness.

The second day after the flight from Ping-Yang, September 17, the naval battle off the Yalu River was fought. The collision of the fleets seems to have been somewhat unpremeditated. The Chinese were engaged in disembarking troops for the re-enforcement of the army at Ping-Yang, and it is a characteristically haphazard proceeding that they should have been landing troops one hundred and twenty miles from the front, to strengthen a position already abandoned. The battle which ensued, and which raged for five hours, has been described with as much fullness as the limits of this volume permit, but the ultimate truth about it will perhaps never be fully known except of course to the Japanese government. From the Chinese side it will be impossible to obtain a consistent account, not because of intentional concealment, but because of the simple reason that no one in the Chinese fleet was able to observe accurately what was going on, except near his own vessel. Nevertheless the salient points of the battle stand out clear enough. The sea fight was but a repetition of the land fight, with two important differences. The first of these was that as the nature of the cause rendered it impossible to sail modern ships of war at all by two-thousand-year-old tactics, the mere possession of a fleet required a European organization. But the organization was imperfect, and would have been unable to sustain itself in action, but for the presence of another element in which the Chinese land forces were entirely lacking, competent foreign direction. This factor also was most imperfect. The foreign officers had been extemporized hastily, the leader of them being not even a seaman. They were of various nationalities and were enlisted about the middle of August. Three engineers, two German, one English; two gunnery officers, one English, one German; had been for some years in the fleet, and volunteered for war service. One American engaged for many years in the Chinese naval college also volunteered for active service during the war. Captain Von Hannecken, bearing now the rank of Chinese general, commissioned as Inspector General of Fortifications, was entrusted with the anomalous office of adviser of the admiral, thus giving him the real command of the fleet. An English civilian with naval training also joined.

On entering on their duties, these officers found the fleet honeycombed with abuses requiring patient reform, but they set themselves to make the best of things as they were, and to get the ships as quickly as possible into action, as the thing most needful in order to brace up officers and men. Von Hannecken urged unceasingly an offensive policy. He would seek out the Japanese and attack them wherever found, fall on their convoys, and generally assert the supremacy of China in Corean waters, from the Yalu eastward. In particular he urged the occupation of Ping-Yang inlet, so important for the support of the army which held the city of that name, and, if necessary, to fight to the death for the possession of a harbor at once so valuable and so easily defended. His prescience was indicated in the sequel, but to all such suggestions Admiral Ting replied with the imperial edict which forbade him to move out of Chinese waters. The convoying service for which the fleet was eventually told off in the middle of September was a sort of compromise, which, without transgressing too flagrantly the imperial restrictions, yet committed the fleet to an engagement on conditions not of its own choosing.

The handling of the respective fleets showed the great superiority of the Japanese professional training, and critics have commented on the weakness of the Chinese manœuvring, but the first consideration was to get the Chinese to fight at all. The government had satisfied itself that without foreigners to lead them, the Chinese commanders would rather lose their ships in trying to escape than stand up to the enemy. The man, the only man available, who possessed the requisite qualities, personal and professional, including a competent knowledge of Chinese, happened to be a soldier, but he at least made the fleet fight, not as a trained admiral would have done with a trained fleet, but in a manner to inspire the Chinese with some confidence in themselves, in which till then they were greatly lacking. That is perhaps the most important result of the baptism of fire of the Chinese navy.

As regards the technical bearings of the action off the Yalu, the Chinese admiral and captains adopted the formation which they said had been taught them by Captain Lang as the most advantageous for attack. But obviously a plan communicated four years ago by an officer whom these same men had intrigued out of their navy, when he had taken it through only half its course of training, could not be considered an infallible weapon with which to meet the thoroughly efficient navy of Japan.

The fight brought out several of the weak points of the Chinese naval organization, and taught the officers many lessons. Most conspicuously was the fatuous economy of ammunition exposed. The most formidable ships for offense and defense were of course the two iron clads Ting-Yuen and Chen-Yuen, with their twelve and one-half inch guns. These guns throw a shell three and one-half calibres long, charged with forty pounds of powder. It is a projectile of low initial velocity, but a most destructive explosive, as the Japanese have testified. There were but four of these shells in the fleet, all being on board the Chen-Yuen. Of a smaller, and of course cheaper shell for the same guns two and one-half calibres long, used for target practice, there were in all fourteen in the two iron clads, and they were fired off in the first hour and a half of the engagement, after which only steel shot was left with which to continue the fight. From the condition of the flag ship and her consort, may be inferred that of the other vessels in the fleet. They were at once however, after the battle, well supplied with shell except of the larger size.

The Chinese fleet was at a disadvantage in manœuvring from inferior speed, but a greater difficulty even than that was the perversity of the personnel. Even on board the flag ship orders were not carried out, but varied or suppressed at the discretion of the officers. In telegraphing from the conning tower to the engine room, the plans of the admiral were frustrated, by the officer who moved the telegraph signalling a low speed when the admiral was ordering a high speed, in order to close with the enemy. This trick was only discovered after the battle, by comparing notes with the German engineer who was below. How many other ways of cheating the commanding officer were resorted to during those critical hours, no one can tell. As for the other ships of the fleet, it is acknowledged that after the first round they kept no formation, each ship fighting her own battle, except the two ironclads with the foreign officers on board, which kept moving in concert till the close. The flagship lost all her signal halyards and a number of signal men in the beginning of the action, and thereby lost touch with the rest of the squadron.

From the capture of Ping-Yang, to the first of November, the progress of the war attested the circumspection of the Japanese, who from first to last resolved to risk nothing by land or sea. There was practically no resistance, and the Chinese government was tolerably aware that there would be none, either at the Yalu or at Feng-hwang-tcheng. What the government reckoned on, if they can be said to have made any reckoning at all, was that the forces assembled at Chiu-lien-tcheng would delay the advance of the enemy till something turned up, or till the winter should come to the aid of the invaded. Well, winter came, and lo it was the Chinese and not the Japanese who were its first victims. Poor General Sung, driven out of Kiu-lien-tcheng, and falling back on Feng-hwang-tcheng, was followed up so sharp that, with the remnant of his force, he had to retreat to the mountains, without extra clothing or baggage. The cold set in, and snow was falling on these shivering wretches, while the enemy was enjoying the comparative luxury of the towns and villages.