In the Yellow Sea

At length the three doomed forts were reached by the rear approach, and the only mode of capture was by climbing the thirteen feet walls! This was a feat in any case, but when the attempt was made amid a continuous fire, the situation seems impossible. The Japanese, however, succeeded by fixing their bayonets into the wall, and climbing by those impromptu steps to the top of the parapet, where they engaged the Chinese hand to hand. Others, again, were hoisted up by means of a rope, which a private soldier had let down after climbing up to the top by the inequalities in the masonry of the wall. These acts of heroic bravery were to be seen frequently, and at different points.

The assailants fell by hundreds at a time, but as soon as the survivors gained the advantage, and reached the platforms, the Chinese fled helter-skelter out of the forts, down the hills, in the direction of the sea, and the Japanese dashed after them, firing, or bayoneting the stragglers. Here were mandarins, officers, and soldiers, armed and unarmed, flying for dear life, and in numerous instances losing that.

As soon as the Chinese had evacuated the defences on the western side I essayed to climb up, but was forced to pause, not only from physical weakness, but because of mental disturbance. Already the Red Cross was in evidence tending and succouring the wounded and dying, and despatching the former to Kinchow, and subsequently to the Port Arthur Hospital. The Chinese, who did not understand, or certainly did not practise this humanity, frequently fired at the devoted bands, who thus suffered for their devotion.

As I advanced I rendered some assistance, I am pleased to think, but the numbers requiring aid were beyond expectation. The Japanese suffered greatly. Tens and dozens of dead bodies lay in groups in many places, and this slaughter was all around one. When the forts were stormed the Chinese became the victims and paid heavily for the Japanese dead. A terrible revenge was taken, and when the Pine Tree fort blew up there was a loud shout of victory. Thenceforth the invaders had all their own way.

And such a way! Midday had struck, as the phrase is, when the first forts were taken – Inland, and then the remaining forces came on to reduce the coast line of forts and redoubts, including the large Golden Hill fort already named, which by its cannon turning in all directions had caused much loss in the distant Japanese ranks. Preparations were made to storm this place late in the afternoon. The Chinese were still resisting under all possible cover in rifle-pits and trenches and redoubts, but all the time the Japanese were encircling them and the town – their usual method. I noticed that at sea the fleet circled round the Chinese ships, and now on land the soldiers came up on three sides.

Following the troops I watched them from a distant height forming a cordon around the devoted town, which contains about a thousand houses built Chinese fashion (usually in one storey), two theatres, temples, hotels, and banks, besides the extensive docks fitted with all modern appliances, torpedo factory, a railway, cranes, workshops, and basins for ships and boats. The place is well supplied with water, and later I witnessed a curious scene in those docks.

When I had struggled as near as I deemed prudent, armed with a Japanese rifle, cartridges, and a cap, I fancied I could hear a band playing. A musical welcome from the Chinese was perhaps the most curious of the many curious and contradictory things in China, but it was certainly a military band in the town, while the brigade beyond was storming the forts. I made inquiry as well as I could, and ascertained that the Japanese had already occupied the town, and the band was playing them in with their National Anthem, which I recognised as having already heard on board ship in the hour of victory.

The day was now coming to a close. Golden Hill remained in Chinese hands, and the fighting was for a while suspended. Still Port Arthur was in possession of the Japanese, and the remaining fort when attacked next morning was found empty. The garrison had deserted it in the night.

That night of the 21st November 1894 will be remembered by all who live to think of it. Why? you may ask. Simply because the Chinese were slain in the most savage and unrelenting way in the town. On the hill a chill and piercing wind rose that night, and the sufferings of the wounded must have been terrible. I made my way at dusk, under shelter, behind the hill I had scrambled up before, and found the Japanese lying on their faces still, thickly. The Chinese were lying anyhow on that hill, and on the other slope; half-clothed, nearly always unarmed, and seldom in any "uniform" dress.

These are common instances which indicate the temperaments and courage of the two nations. The Japanese shot in the forehead or chest falls forward and dies. The Chinese I saw were fugitives who had cast away their weapons and clothing the more easily to escape and to be mistaken for civilians. I must add that the Japanese wounded never seemed to complain or cry out. Their fortitude under the most deplorable conditions, amid terrible injuries and wounds, was Spartan-like – heroic.

That cold night, for which all were unprepared, found those on the hills badly off, though wearied to death they lay, some beside watch-fires some in the darkness, dead asleep; while the soldiers in the waking town conducted themselves like absolute fiends. As already stated, the soldiers were exasperated by the brutality of the Chinese, but that was scarce a reason for the wholesale and deliberate murder of civilians, women, and children in cold blood.

Next morning, under the guidance of a soldier and the interpreter, I essayed to reach the town. We descended the hill, my companions looking triumphantly upon the devastation and the evidences of death, which, though now familiar to me, were none the less terrible.

The town was reached, and we entered it near the dock where is a reservoir of water, a kind of lake, one may say, at the foot of the sloping ground. There even my callous companions halted. The pool was full of dead bodies floating in all kinds of attitudes, head downwards, or extended on the back or face bleeding or bloodless, many women, and even young children. There they lay, some floating, as I have said, some pressed down by others, some lying half in and half out of the bloodstained water, all killed by violence, by the rifle-shot or bayonet, and hacked as savages would not have thought of doing.

And this was the act of the merciful Japanese! I turned sick and faint with horror, rushed away into the town to escape from this most fearful scene. Presently I was compelled to seat myself in sheer illness, my companions were also ashamed I believe.

After a while I rose and made my way through the streets, but here again were horrors piled up even if possible more awful than the first experience. Houses, shops, inns were pillaged, fired, plundered! Men and women dead – mutilated – every possible shame had been inflicted, and even then, in daylight, the Japanese soldiers were looting and killing all in their way, binding up bundles of plunder, or chasing an unfortunate Chinaman to death amid the laughter of his fellows. Fortunately I was properly protected, else my doom had been sealed, for the dead lay so thickly in the streets and passages, that one had to tread carefully for fear of stepping upon a body; and if a Chinese was discovered seeking his dead friend, relative, wife, or child, the first Japanese butcher would kill him, and then slash him into slices with his sword.

For true barbarity the inflamed Japanese countenance in a passion of killing is the most repulsive. What the night had witnessed I tremble now to think. Of what we witnessed of the awful results it is impossible even to do more than name, the details are quite unfit to describe. The dismemberment of the bodies even of children and women will always remain a stain upon the Japanese, on the soldiers for executing such awful rapine and murder, on the officers for not stopping such scenes of bestial violence.

Amid such scenes in the docks next day the field-marshal presided at a grand luncheon, where hundreds of officers attended, and numerous newspaper correspondents assisted, and drank the health of the Emperor of Japan. Whom of those hundreds who stood at the long tables spread in the dockyard, and feasted upon potted and tinned food, thought of the massacred Chinese? Even then, perhaps, dark and silent murder was being done while the bands played stirring airs, and officers congratulated each other upon their own successes while the curses of the dying natives were heaped upon the savage soldiery.

"Find me a way from this fearful place," I begged at last, when I had vainly sought escape by boat. "Is there no junk, no vessel, in the bay which will shelter me and carry me to Chefoo?"

My despairing appeal was carried to the ears of the officer who had already befriended me. He came towards the ruined inn, where I was resting, and inquired what I wanted.

"Means to leave this horrible place," I said briefly. "The Naniwa is in the harbour. Cannot you manage to communicate with your brother? He may assist me to reach the opposite shore."

"Is that all? Why, there are several British vessels in the gulf." He then quickly said a few words to my companions in their own tongue, and left me. I am glad to think that he and some other officers had been staying the massacre of the night. "I will follow you," he added. "Wait beyond."

As we made our way through the narrow streets westward to the Port, the natural harbour, the sights were beyond description. Even there dead lay in the streets and shops, which, still hung with the Chinese signs and open as in a fair-ground, were wrecked and dabbled with blood. Fortunately the weather was cold, and when we reached the harbour, or West Port, the soldiers were dragging dead bodies from the water, where they lay thickly.[6] Men, women, and children had been hunted down and slain in the water. The few junks on shore were also filled with dead bodies of fugitives and crews.

My interpreter shook his head. He could do nothing. Remembering his former conduct, I began to fear that he had some sinister object in his mind's eye. I asked him what I should do, and then as he paused in his reply, I demanded why he had robbed me before. My fears were then allayed, because I saw the Japanese officer, Tomi's brother, approaching. But the interpreter remained perfectly calm to all appearance. He merely deprecated any reference to such an unpleasant incident, by a shrug of the shoulders, and an appealing movement of his hands.

"Then you intended to destroy me!" I exclaimed. "What do you propose now? May I ask you, sir, to question this man about his conduct while in my society, when, as I have told you, I was robbed by him and left alone to find my way across the isthmus."

The interpreter's nimble tongue was at a loss for once. He could not advance any excuse.

"Did this man rob you?" asked the officer. "Speak, sir."

"Yes," I replied. "Let him deny it if he can."

The Japanese officer turned to the interpreter and said something to him, motioning to the soldier who had accompanied me to advance.

The traitor fell upon his knees, Chinese fashion, but what he said I could not understand. He produced the revolver, however, and some papers.

"He declares he was instructed to take these from you, for fear of your safety if they were found upon you by the natives. Is that so?"

"Not at all. I was given the pistol and money by your brother for my protection. He had already defended me, and the captain of the ship urged my departure as a scout, knowing some Chinese. They hoped I would remain with the army, reach Port Arthur, and so get away."

"Then you were suspected on board?" he asked sharply.

"Yes, because I was sailing in the Chinese transport, I think. Your honourable brother assisted me, and intended to send me to the British fleet."

"He had no authority to do so. But I am sure the captain would have landed you at Chemulpo had you desired it."

"I did not want to be landed. I am a sailor, and wished to continue on board until I could be sent to Shanghai or Chefoo."

"It appears to me now that you did wrong. You had better have landed and made your way, with the assistance of your consul, to China. But matters seem also to have been against you. As for this man's statement respecting the robbery, I do not believe it. He has traduced my brother."

Then followed a few sentences in the Japanese language, which sounded particularly harsh. I saw the man seized by the soldier, and cried out. The officer turned to me inquiringly.

"What do you intend?" I asked. "What punishment?"

"I shall strike off his thievish hand."

"Oh no!" I pleaded. "There has been slaughter and hacking enough! Let him go free!"

"He has lied concerning my brother. He deserves to die! I shall only prevent his robbing in future. Take him, and keep him in guard."

The soldier tied the man's hands together with his belt, and drove him away before him, leaving me with the officer. My appeal had been in vain. As a fact, I had no energy to continue the question, because my bodily strength was waning fast. The excitement which had so far sustained me was already disappearing, and the disgust which had replaced it did not tend to keep me up.

The Japanese officer perceived this, and beckoned me to accompany him. I saw he was anxiously looking at my pallid face. What would have become of me had he not come to my rescue I did not venture to think. I followed him closely, and retraced my bloodstained steps through the lately prosperous-looking streets, then well furnished with shops, now a terrible line of dismantled houses; goods lying upon the ground amid the dead, and accentuating the desolation.

My conductor took me to an inn, or hotel, in which resided, temporarily, several Japanese. These gentlemen, I ascertained, were journalists and artists employed by the newspapers and others, for the Japanese people took the greatest interest in the struggle with China. Two of these men spoke English quite sufficiently for conversational purposes, and they made me welcome by request of the officer.

"When opportunity occurs," he said, "we will send you home. Perhaps we may despatch you to one of your men-of-war vessels. Farewell!"

I had only time to thank him for the idea of such a happy despatch, when I felt faint and sick. My new friends immediately removed me to an upper chamber, – a rather unusual thing in China, – and laid me upon the couch or bench which was then being warmed by the hot air from the fire or "furnace." Handing me a thick counterpane, which the increasing cold made acceptable, my friend left me to recover myself – my strength and my self-possession.

It was long before I was able to rise. The day passed. Food was repugnant to me. My brain reproduced all the horrors I had witnessed, and I shuddered as with ague. The night was still more dreadful, as my solitude was invaded by three of the company, and I was thankful when morning again dawned and left me alone, if listless and ailing.

I must pass rapidly on, for nothing occurred to alarm me. I lay quiet, eating and sleeping and thinking. My new companions amused me by telling me their adventures, and listening to mine. They taught me some of their language, and I imparted to them some English. The weather grew worse, frost and snow set in, with bitter winds; and I learned that the headquarters of the army had been fixed at Kinchow, till the second army – Port Arthur force – made northward for Kai-ping. The Japanese fleet was in Talien Bay. Winter had set in in earnest, and transport was very difficult.

Christmas passed. Such a Christmas it was, too. I felt like the boy who had been left at school while all the other fellows went home for the holidays. Most of my companions had scattered, but two stayed, one for some Government business, and the other awaiting orders as to the disposal of the quantities of plunder and stores, before leaving to join the fleet. We conversed in a mixture of Japanese and English, a dialect which did more to keep up my spirits than anything save release, because we laughed at each other's mistakes all day. The weather became very cold, and as the year came to an end I began to feel "hipped," and really uneasy. But the New Year caused a change in the troops' quarters, and indirectly in mine, for when the second army advanced, or rather a portion of it advanced, to the north, to join the Yalu army, I was very agreeably surprised by a visit from the officer I knew as Tomi's brother, and, best of all, he was accompanied by Tomi himself. This visit was paid in the month of January 1895, when I was feeling extremely "low."

My astonishment was great as my pleasure at the meeting, and in my delight, being also conceited about my new attainments, I exclaimed in "dog" Japanese —

"Tenno Heika Banzai! Nippon Yüsen Kabushiki Kaisha! So glad to see you again!"

Somewhat to my astonishment the two officers touched their caps, and, looking at each other, burst into a hearty peal of laughter. I stared. What had I said? I felt guilty and nervous, then annoyed at the laughter.

"Well, gentlemen, what's the joke?" I said. "Have I in any way offended you? Pray accept my excuses – in English. I assure you" —

"Please excuse us," said the naval officer, seizing my hand. "We are delighted to learn that you have mastered Japanese as well as Chinese and French. Thank you for Emperor and Company."

"I think you do not quite understand," remarked my military friend. "Do you know what you did say?"

"Yes – at least I think so. I intended to cheer your Emperor and you, and to wish success to the Japanese united arms. I suspect I made a little mistake."

"No, no!" cried the young lieutenant Tomi. "It was beautiful! Splendid! It sounded so well, too. Didn't it?" he asked, turning to his brother.

"Yes; and so exactly to the point," added the captain, laughing again. "You are already an interpreter, Mr. Julius."

I felt rather "at sea" at this renewal of the merriment, but the officers quickly subdued their laughter, though it occasionally burst out in spasms while they alternately announced their business.

"We have another mission for you, Julius," said the younger. "A pleasant little trip to an English man-of-war perhaps."

I leaped to my feet in delight. "Really?" I said. "You mean that?"

"Oh yes, certainly. We understand English," he said, laughing.

I blushed, and felt annoyed with Tomi. But I dare not show this.

"When you and your brother have quite finished laughing" – I began.

But this attempt at dignity set them off again, and though really angry, I was compelled to join them. The whole business seemed so ridiculous.

"Pray pardon us," gasped the elder officer. "This is really business – from the admiral."

"The admiral!" I exclaimed. "Does he know anything about me?'

"Of course, certainly; and when you talk to him in Japanese" —

This caused another explosion, and I made condemnatory remarks concerning the native smile.

"Well," I asked coldly, "any further joke?"

"This is no joke, indeed," said the sailor. "The Admiral Ito wants a letter conveyed to the Severn – what you call it – cruiser, for conveyance to Admiral Ting, the Chinese naval commander. The little difficulty arose about the messenger being a Japanese, and then I reminded my captain that you were in Port Arthur, and trustworthy. My brother had already told me so much. The immediate result has been our presence here, and our request to bring you to the admiral. Will you come? we will fit you out again."

"And I am to join the Severn?"

"Perhaps. At anyrate if you carry the letter, and bring back an answer or not, you can act as an ambassador."

"With pleasure," I cried, delighted to think I was again to be restored to British protection, and to see English faces. "I will accompany you at once."

I made some few – very few – changes in my appearance, which was a bit remarkable for an English youth, or "man." My stubbly hair, my thick wadded costume, —a la Chinois, – for your Chinaman pads his garments until his bulk, in winter, vies with Mr. Daniel Lambert, of pious memory. Thus, something like a clean scarecrow, crossed with the Fat Boy in Pickwick, I accompanied my deliverers.

As we quitted my quarters, I said as pleasantly as possible —

"Tell me the mistake I made when you came in?"

They smiled at the recollection, and the sailor-boy said, nodding at me —

"It was all right, really. You only said, Hurrah for the Emperor! and" (here he choked) – "and called out for the 'Japan Mail Steam Company.' That's all."

I laughed aloud at the connection. What I intended to say I have now no idea, and my Japanese friends never enlightened me.

This was my last attempt at Asiatic languages – on service.