CHAPTER III.

OPERATIONS FOR COVERING THE SEIZURE OF SEOUL. THE HOLDING ATTACK ON PORT ARTHUR.

[Chart B 1.]

IN accordance with the old British practice for combined operations Admiral Togo had arranged for all sections of his force to assemble on the brink of the theatre of operations. One of the presumptions upon which he was going, it will be remembered, was that in no case would the Port Arthur fleet come as far as the south of Korea. The point of concentration chosen therefore was Single Island which lies midway in the channel between the Mackau Group and the Naju Group in which lay the Hakko base. There by three o’clock in the afternoon of February 7th the force was gathered. One destroyer alone was missing. Escorted by the Third Division the two flotillas had gone to the First Rendezvous to coal and water, and in taking up her berth one of the destroyers destined for Port Arthur had fouled her parent ship and been disabled. It was a bad beginning but its moral effect was discounted by the fact that two Russian merchantmen had been captured the same morning by the fleet on its way to Single Island and it was taken as an exhilarating omen that one of them was called the Rossiya.

These captures, however, were not the first acts of hostility. The Third Squadron had already been busy. Leaving Kuré on the 5th, Admiral Kataoka had taken his two cruiser divisions and his four divisions of torpedo-boats to Takeshiki, which was to be his base, and there he proceeded to arrange a disposition of his force in order to keep up a constant watch of the Straits against an intrusion of the Vladivostok squadron. At the same time Admiral Hosoya with the Seventh or Coast-Defence Division had proceeded direct “to the south coast of Korea and there did what circumstances required.” The war, in fact, had opened significantly enough at the point around which everything turned. During the afternoon of the 6th, four ships—presumably Admiral Hosoya’s—entered Fusan Harbour, while at the same time a party of Japanese took possession of Masanpho on Sylvia Basin.1

Since Korea was neutral territory these acts did not in themselves constitute operations of war, but the Japanese quickly converted the movement into a complete act of hostility. Early on the 6th, the Saiyen which was at Takeshiki was called by cable to cruise for the Ekaterinoslav, a fine ship of 5,600 tons belonging to the Russian Volunteer Fleet which was known to have left Vladivostok for Odessa on the 5th. By 9.0 a.m. she had captured her a little north of Fusan and, as the Japanese contended, just outside the three mile limit. Another, the Mukden of 1,500 tons, which had cleared from Nagasaki early on the 5th for Vladivostok, was taken in the port itself, and her capture the Japanese justified on the ground that the locus in quo was no longer neutral territory.2

Meanwhile, at Single Island Admiral Togo was issuing his final instructions. The object of the assembly there was that these instructions might be given on the latest intelligence and it was the furthest point at which he would be in direct communication with the information centre at Tokyo. The cable to Hakko was now working and the Akashi which he had sent forward the night before came in with intelligence that the Port Arthur squadron after going round to Dalny had returned to the outer anchorage and that three battleships were reputed to have left again the previous afternoon. They had not, however, appeared at Chemulpho. The Varyag and Koreetz were the only ships in the port besides the neutral cruisers.

On receipt of this intelligence which left the situation in some uncertainty the Admiral issued instructions which considerably modified his last plan of operations. By the orders delivered at Sasebo to the conference of officers two nights before, his whole force was to proceed direct to the Fifth Rendezvous, that is to a point just south of Soi-chong-do, the most southerly island of the Sir James Hall Group. The various squadrons were to reach it together at 8.0 a.m. on the 8th, and thence they were to carry on with the flotilla to the point from which it was to deliver its attacks against Port Arthur and Dalny the same evening. This arrangement was in accordance with the final Staff decision that the Combined Squadron was to support the flotilla attack. It would look, however, as though the reported restlessness of the Russian squadron induced the Admiral to revert, so far as his instructions permitted, to his own idea of covering the military expedition close to its objective, and not to trust entirely to the counter-attack till he had made sure the Russians had not put to sea.

In any case what he now did was to order Admiral Dewa to take his cruiser division forward alone to the Fifth Rendezvous and to search the neighbourhood of the Sir James Hall Group. The idea presumably was that if the Russians intended an offensive movement in the direction of Chemulpho, this would be their most likely rendezvous. The four cruisers parted company at 4.15. A quarter of an hour later Admiral Uriu with the transports in charge of his squadron, which now included the armoured cruiser Asama, was given the word to proceed direct to Baker Island. For some distance they would be screened by Admiral Dewa, who had orders to proceed by Clifford Island before he laid a direct course for his destination. At 5.0 the two armoured divisions followed with the five destroyer divisions, and their orders were to proceed not for the Fifth Rendezvous, but for the Fourth, that is Rooper Harbour.

No explanation is given of the change. All we are told is that the Admiral intended to leave at this point his ship-borne torpedo-boats, a reason scarcely sufficient to account for the departure. The position of Rooper Harbour would suggest something more weighty. Lying as it does about 30 miles to the eastward of the Fifth Rendezvous it was only some 60 miles from Admiral Uriu’s rendezvous (No. 2). As this was then regarded as effective wireless range he would be in touch with the Chiyoda and be able to hear the last word from her. The occupation of such a position was thus to some extent a reversion to the Admiral’s own plan. The Staff plan was based on the principle of “Seeking out the enemy’s fleet,” an excellent maxim when contact is certain, and there is no chance of the enemy evading and striking behind the back of the “seeking” fleet at the zone it is charged to defend. Otherwise it may lead to serious strategical error as it did in the case of Admiral Sampson’s false movement to Puerto Rico in the Spanish-American War. In such cases it has proved to be a sounder course to hold the fleet back in its true defensive position, and so make certain of getting contact if the enemy attempts to interfere with the operation that has to be covered. We have seen the diplomatic exigencies which rendered it necessary for the Staff to adopt the more hazardous plan against Admiral Togo’s judgment. It cannot have been palatable to the man on whom the responsibility rested; and what he now did was to adopt a disposition which, while conforming to his instructions, permitted him to make sure of affording the transports close cover until the last moment. Weak as wireless then was, at Rooper Harbour he would at least be in sure touch with his own cruisers searching the Sir James Hall Group, and with Admiral Uriu as he made for Asan, and if the Russians did mean to interfere he would be certain to get in contact with them either before they could deliver their attack or while it was proceeding. The fact that he intended to drop his ship-borne torpedo-boats at this point is a further indication that he was at least contemplating the possibility of an action.

Soundly in accord with the combined problem as these precautions were they proved unnecessary. At half-past ten the following morning the flagship took in a message from Admiral Dewa, who by this time had completed his search of the Islands, to say that no enemy had been seen. There was, moreover, no word of distress from the transport squadron and the Admiral decided to carry on at once for his last rendezvous off Round Island. The ship-borne torpedo-boats were not dropped after all. The reason given is that there was too heavy a swell running, but it is also obvious that the prospect of an action was now too remote to render the precaution necessary.

Had the Japanese opening been less well timed from the political point of view, it is conceivable that Admiral Togo’s penetration might have received a striking manifestation. It will be remembered that the last instructions received at Port Arthur from St. Petersburg were that the fleet was not to interfere unless the Japanese attempted to land in the north of Korea. The only possible point from which it could carry out these instructions with effect would have been from the neighbourhood of the islands which the Japanese cruisers had just been searching. Whether or not this movement was intended, the Viceroy, as we have seen, felt he could issue no definite orders until he had received a more precise definition of what the north of Korea meant. On January 31st he had ordered the squadron into the outer anchorage, and on February 4th it had gone for the short cruise which had given such alarm at Tokyo. On its return to the anchorage next day he felt the best he could do was to keep it there ready to sail at a moment’s notice. The danger of the position was fully realised at headquarters; for on February 7th Admiral Makarov had frankly warned the Minister of Marine what to expect. “Supposing,” he wrote, “that the Japanese fleet possessed no closed roadsteads, and were fated to lie in full strength off an exposed shore, our tactics ought to consist in carrying out on the first night after the rupture of negotiations the most energetic attack on their fleet. The Japanese will not allow so unparalleled an opportunity to pass of striking us a damaging blow.”3

At Port Arthur, as we have seen, opinion halted between the need of securing the fleet from surprise and the desire to strike promptly if the Japanese appeared. The result was hesitation and delay, which resulted merely in inadequate defence. “Our precautionary measures,” says the Russian Official Naval Journal, “consisted in disallowing communication with the shore at sunset, having quick-firing guns and torpedo-tubes loaded, causing lights (but not in all ships) to be extinguished, and keeping part of the guns’ crews at their guns throughout the night. A patrol service was also organised—two duty destroyers were sent 20 miles to sea each night, and one gunboat 10 miles. Two duty cruisers had steam up in case of its being necessary to send them out to reconnoitre, and two duty ships were to show up the sea near the squadron with their searchlights. No other measures were taken.”4

Unfortunately, such as they were, they were rendered almost nugatory by the Tsar’s orders that the Japanese were to be left to fire the first shot. The orders for the duty ships were merely to keep vessels approaching the port under their beams and to send an officer on board to examine them. There was no authority given to fire. Similarly the destroyers which were to search to seaward were to return if they met with anything suspicious and report to the flagship. They were to carry the usual lights and not to clear for action without orders. The Viceroy indeed left nothing undone to prevent a breach of the peace, and in his eagerness to obey his master’s order it would seem he could not trust loaded guns not to go off by themselves. When Admiral Stark a few days before had begged permission to make all preparations for war in the fleet he was answered by the Signal “This is premature.” The Admiral, however, had taken upon himself each night to make the Signal “Prepare to repel torpedo attacks.” But in the fleet the order seems to have been taken merely as a peace exercise and in the lax condition of discipline that existed the evolution was never carried out thoroughly. In some ships, the gun crews did not even sleep at their stations, and though the nets were made ready we have seen how the Naval Staff hesitated to cripple the mobility of the fleet by having them spread. Even when it was known that diplomatic relations had been broken off no further precautions were promptly taken. The coast batteries were not warned for action, the Liau-ti-shan light was kept burning, and the combined effect of the political exigencies and conflicting counsels was that the fleet lay exposed with merely the semblance of protection.

Such then was the state of affairs at Port Arthur as Admiral Togo was making the last stage of his approach. He was not unprepared to find the Russians on their guard. For some weeks past information had been coming in that precautions were being taken to detect and resist a surprise attack, and in the Japanese fleet all details had been arranged in anticipation of an alert reception. Most remarkable of these was an instruction for destroyers in the event of their being so severely handled as to be unable to keep afloat. They were to endeavour to beach themselves at the low neck of land which connects the Tiger peninsula, west of the Port Arthur entrance, with the mainland. Small arms, rations in haversacks and gun spikes were all to be in readiness for an immediate landing. As soon as possible the whole crew was to abandon ship and endeavour to seize the nearest battery.

It was with this exciting prospect before them that during the afternoon they received the Admiral’s final orders for the attack. Till 6.0 p.m. they would go ahead at 13 knots for the Sixth Rendezvous, 10 miles S.E. of Round Island; then the two flotillas would part company for the attack and the fleet would turn away 16 points in succession, and at intervals of 3,000 metres (3,300 yards), the several divisions would steam back for two hours at 10 knots, the Third Division leading. They would then at 8.0 p.m. turn eight points to starboard and head for Shantung Promontory until 10.0 p.m. when they would change to N. 85° W. on a course approximately parallel to the north coast of Shantung. This would bring them at 5.0 o’clock next morning about south of Port Arthur when they were to turn N. 15° W. and head for the Liau-ti-shan Promontory, in which the Kwangtung Peninsula terminates.

They were not, however, able to keep these times accurately. By 6.0 p.m. they had not quite reached the rendezvous, their position being still 30 miles S.E. by E. of Round Island. Nevertheless, the Admiral signalled to the flotilla “Proceed and attack as arranged. I pray for your complete success.” Then as the fleet turned back 16 points all ships manned the side in salute and three rousing banzais were given to speed the destroyers on their desperate venture.

It will be observed that in Admiral Togo’s carefully drawn scheme, there was one remarkable omission. The destroyers went away alone without so much as a despatch vessel to keep touch with them or even to meet them after the attack at the assigned rendezvous off Round Island. He thus threw them off without any means of learning the result of the attack at the earliest possible moment. Since by his instructions the action of the squadron was to depend on the result of the attack, the omission is difficult to understand, and as we shall see it led to errors of the gravest kind.

It was presumably owing to the false information of three Russian battleships having put to sea after the squadron’s return to Port Arthur on the 5th that the destroyers were to act as two flotillas, one consisting of the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd divisions, now only ten boats, for Port Arthur, and the other consisting of the 4th and 5th divisions with their full eight boats for Dalny. It was an unlucky arrangement by which nearly half the weight of the attack was lost, and ill luck pursued it from the first. The general plan as we have seen, had been worked out by the Staff at Tokyo, but the officers commanding divisions in each flotilla settled in concert the final details independently. Captain Asai, senior officer of the first flotilla, and his colleagues agreed that on reaching the entrance of Port Arthur they would quietly examine the position of the enemy’s ships and would seize the first opportunity for attack between midnight and 1.40 a.m. when the moon would rise. On Captain Asai making the signal to begin they would steer straight for the buoy outside the entrance, the 1st division to port and the 2nd and 3rd to starboard. At the proper distance the 1st division would turn to port and the other two to starboard and range along the Russian line to fire their torpedoes. Nothing, however, seems to have been arranged as to the relative courses of the two flotillas to prevent confusion. Still the sea had gone down, there was very little mist and it was in short, save for the bitter cold, an almost perfect night for the operation. On arriving, however, five miles S.E. of Round Island the first flotilla was suddenly aware that the second was crossing its bows. Captain Asai was forced to decrease speed and his line was thrown into confusion. As soon as it was restored and the second flotilla was clear he held on again to make the Liau-ti-shan light. About 10.30 a searchlight began to appear and disappear on the starboard bow which told them their information was correct and that the enemy were on their guard. Still they held on for Liau-ti-shan, but as luck would have it in a few minutes a mist came rolling up from right ahead and the light was obscured. At the same time they had a further indication that the enemy were not asleep.

Lights were seen moving on the port bow. There could be little doubt it was the Russian patrol and to confirm the suspicion they were seen to alter course direct for the Japanese. Captain Asai instantly reduced speed and as the lights drew quickly nearer they were found to be two of the enemy’s destroyers steaming N.W. They were in fact the seaward patrol, and slender as it was it proved a serious interruption. To avoid them Captain Asai was forced to lead a little to starboard and as they were heading to pass astern of him he extinguished his stern lights. It was all done quite smoothly and he passed on his way apparently undetected. The second division were not so successful. The leader followed Captain Asai’s example, turned to starboard and extinguished his lights. But as the Russian patrol was passing through the line ahead of him he had to go dead slow. In the dense darkness the effect was serious confusion. The second boat apparently held on and being out of station to starboard suddenly found her leader athwart her bows. Both boats went astern but a collision was inevitable. The effect was that the stem of the second boat was so badly damaged that she was practically disabled. The leader who was struck on her anchor-bed was, however, able to proceed, and disappeared in the darkness. The last boat in consequence entirely lost touch, but eventually found and stood by her damaged next ahead. The whole 3rd division was equally thrown out. To avoid the Russian destroyers it had stopped altogether, with the result that by the time they had passed clear there was no trace of the other divisions, and being unable to recover station it was compelled to proceed independently.

Fortunately, a few minutes later the Liau-ti-shan light became visible and their position could be fixed. It was now a little after 11.0. The night was still calm and clear, though bitterly cold. The conditions were in fact as favourable to success as anyone could hope in mid-winter and all promised well. For another half-hour Captain Asai held on with the four boats he had left, till shortly before midnight the enemy’s searchlights became plainly visible bearing N. W., and turning towards them he drew slowly on to seek his opportunity. The lights were working vigorously far and near, but shortly after midnight they stopped, and shone steadily on the flotilla. For a while it seemed certain they were discovered but after a few minutes the beams moved away again. This Captain Asai decided was his moment; it was now or never and without further hesitation he made the preconcerted signal to attack.

In ten minutes they were close enough to make out the ships in the Russian lines through the intense darkness and even to guess at their class by their funnels and lights. Judging the distance to be 600 (660 yards) metres Captain Asai turned to port as arranged and dropping to dead slow for greater accuracy discharged a torpedo from each of his tubes; then putting his helm hard over he went away to the southward at full speed. The other three boats of his division did the same, and in spite of the fact that they saw the fleet start into life each held on till between them they had fired five more torpedoes at ranges estimated at from 500 (550 yards) to 400 metres (440 yards). Several seemed to take effect and five minutes after the first had struck the fleet opened fire. Though some of the boats were hit all got away without loss or serious injury. They were followed closely by the solitary leader of the 2nd division who had found her way independently, and turning to starboard as arranged fired two shots at 1,000 metres (1,100 yards) without visible effect and got away unhit.

As for the 3rd division, after the confusion caused by the Russian patrol only two of its three destroyers were together. The rear one was nowhere to be seen, but the others soon found themselves close to the damaged destroyer of the 2nd division with her next astern standing by. Finding she was in no danger of sinking the officer in command ordered the uninjured destroyer to take station in his rear and then held on with her and his own two. By this time the Russian guns and searchlights were well in play, and the Japanese had a more difficult task before them. Still at this period their torpedo men had unshaken faith in the power and accuracy of their weapon even at extreme ranges, and on getting within 1,500 metres (1,600 yards), as they judged, they did not hesitate to fire. In making the attack the leading boat turned, for some reason, to port and the other two to starboard. All three got in two shots but without any apparent effect, and by a quarter to one they were all making off to Round Island. The affair had lasted just over a quarter of an hour and 15 torpedoes had been fired. The second flotilla had found Dalny empty, except for a steamer full of Japanese refugees, whose indentity they only discovered just as they were about to torpedo her. Thus these eight units were entirely thrown away, and of the 19 destroyers which Admiral Togo had available only eight had taken part in the real attack.

Still it was not yet quite over. There remained the Oboro, the damaged second boat of the 2nd division, and the Sazanami, the lost rear unit of the same division, and their plucky behaviour is well worth recording. The reason of the Sazanami getting lost was that in the confusion caused by the Russian destroyers she had followed the enemy’s lights in mistake for those of her consorts. When she discovered the truth she turned back only to find herself completely thrown out and alone. Still she was not to be baulked and determined to attack on her own account. At first the searchlights were so active that she was continuously in their beams, but about half past one they were suddenly all thrown upwards and seeing her opportunity she darted in for the centre of the fleet. At 700 metres (770 yards) she fired two torpedoes, and then turned away at full speed. Half an hour later the Oboro, who had patched up her injuries, also managed to find her way in. At 1 a.m. she met the other boats returning, but in spite of her helm not acting properly she determined to carry on independently. As the searchlights were now less active she was able to creep in, and just before 2.0 managed to fire both her tubes at about 1,200 metres (1,300 yards). She then made off, and in spite of having the undivided attention of all the Russian searchlights and guns she got away untouched to the southeast. The Russians, indeed, made no serious attempt to retaliate. Of all the cruisers the Novik alone pursued, and after chasing 30 miles to seaward she returned empty-handed. So the whole operation ended. Most of the destroyers made for the appointed rendezvous under the lee of Round Island and thence at 5.0 a.m. cleared off for Rooper Harbour well satisfied with their work.

Considering the favourable circumstances the results might well have been much greater. The Russians received no warning of the enemy’s presence till the last moment. The patrol destroyers did not get in till after the 3rd division had attacked. At least they were seen making for the entrance by the last boat as she made off. “The attack,” wrote Admiral Stark, “was so unexpected and so inconsistent with the latest reassuring information that in my vessel the conviction at first prevailed that one of the Retvizan’s torpedoes had exploded accidently, since on this day they had been made ready for firing.” He had just taken leave of the Chief of the Staff and the Port Commandant, who had been on board the flagship for a conference, and all seemed quiet for the night. The 16 ships that were in the roadstead were anchored in four lines, with the best ships furthest to seaward. The ships detailed for searchlight duty were the Retvizan and Pallada, with the result that they were the first to be hit. The Askold and Diana were the duty cruisers, and they alone had steam; all the destroyers except the patrol were inside, and the duty gunboat was not out. Thus no warning was received till at 12.30 (Japanese time) the Retvizan noticed two destroyers in the Pallada’s beam. The officer of the watch immediately gave the order “Repel torpedo attack,” but the ship was struck before she could open fire. The Pallada saw nothing till ten minutes later (12.41). She sounded the “Alarm,” but hesitated to fire lest the destroyers were the patrol, and it was not till a torpedo was seen coming at her that she began. Seven torpedoes, her officers say, were fired at her, and only one hit. All the ships that were not masked by others took up the firing, and it lasted, they say, till nearly 2 a.m. The Askold reports that, being furthest to seaward, she had a very narrow escape. Her story is that a torpedo passed close under her stern, and that only by going ahead just in time she avoided another which passed within 10 yards. Thus, of the 19 torpedoes fired only three took effect, and all three vessels struck remained afloat. They were able to get under way at once, but all took the ground in endeavouring to enter the harbour.5

Such was the first great torpedo attack in naval history, made with all the advantages of weather as perfect as winter could offer, and at the outbreak of war by a high-spirited and devoted personnel against an enemy at anchor, demoralised, ill-prepared, and exposed as much as a fleet could be. Why then were the effects so small? If we seek an answer certain points assert themselves conspicuously. In the first place, owing mainly to inaccurate information about the objective, less than half the available destroyers arrived, and such inaccuracy is likely to be an almost constant factor. Secondly, the patrol defence which the Russians provided, wholly inadequate as it was, availed to throw the approach into confusion, although the patrol was not allowed to fire. Thirdly, no hits were made after the fleet began to fire and had got its searchlights into play.6 Fourthly, as these difficulties increased each division fired at a greater range than the last. It is even possible that in the confusion of the glare and the shot-splashes and in the numbing cold no division except the first fired within effective range at all. In circumstances of such intense excitement the human factor—on which almost everything depends in such cases—can scarcely be counted on to preserve its normal qualities.

To draw a general deduction from this particular case would be unsafe, for with the exception of the attack on Wei-hai-wei in 1895, it was the first of its kind, and torpedoes were still of moderate power. With regard to the relative strength of attack and defence all that we can assert with safety is that in this case the most perfunctory precautions did avail to break the force of an attack, for which the conditions were highly favourable, and it did so to a degree that no one would have then expected. On the other hand, there is the fact that the attack was not pressed so closely as riper experience enjoins even with weapons of greatly increased accuracy and power. That the attack was not pressed home does not necessarily imply a lack of offensive spirit in the Japanese torpedo men. It appears to have been due to two causes: first, the power of defensive fire and searchlights to prevent the just estimation of range; and, secondly, the exaggerated belief of the officers in the efficiency of their torpedoes. The Japanese torpedo service was a close one. The officers had served for years in torpedo craft, and had inevitably come from target experience and esprit de corps to believe that their special weapon had a power and range that the test of war did not justify. The belief that very close action was unnecessary was natural enough, and it was no doubt encouraged by the fact that destroyers were given long range as well as short range torpedoes. On the whole, then, the Port Arthur case is far from conclusive as to what is likely to happen in a similar attack made under present conditions.

To the battle fleet, since no precautions had been taken to preserve communication with the flotilla, the results of the first great experiment were quite unknown. By 5.0 o’clock in the morning of the 9th, when the reconcentrated flotillas were clearing away from Round Island for Asan, Admiral Togo was some 20 miles to the northward of Chifu, well out of the destroyers’ field of action. It was now time for the fleet to play its part, and he altered course for Liau-ti-shan. The first step must be to ascertain the result of the torpedo attack, and accordingly at 8.0 a.m., about 20 miles south of the cape, Admiral Dewa was sent ahead with his four cruisers to look into the Port Arthur anchorage. He was given no special instructions as to how closely he was to press the reconnaissance, but was merely told that if he met a strong force at sea he was to try to draw it towards the armoured divisions which would steer for a point south of the Encounter Rock (about 20 miles S.E. of Port Arthur).

Gradually increasing his speed of 13 knots, Admiral Dewa was near enough shortly after 9.0 to make out the Russian fleet through the morning mist. There were 12 battleships and cruisers, with some gunboats, destroyers, and mining vessels lying outside, apparently huddled together in no order. Three or four ships seemed to have a bad list or to be ashore and there was no sign of activity, except that two cruisers and a few destroyers were “moving feebly in the neighbourhood.” He held on to within 7,500 metres (8,200 yards), but no notice was taken of him. Drawing in another 500 metres (560 yards) he leisurely made his reconnaissance. Still, not a shot was fired nor any movement made that he could see. With this he was satisfied. Although, since he had his whole division with him, the movement was in principle a reconnaissance in force, he made no effort to press it till he drew the enemy’s fire, but convinced by what he was able to observe that the attack had been a success and that the Russians were thoroughly demoralised he sped back for Encounter Rock. Since he had pushed in no nearer than 3 miles it is small wonder that his conclusion was wrong. The Russians had steam and were lying ready for action with battle flags flying; the Askold and Boyarin were patrolling to seaward, and the squadron did get under way as soon as they saw they were being watched, but when the Japanese cruisers were seen to be making off at high speed they returned to their anchorage.7

Unaware of this movement Admiral Dewa shortly before 10.0 called up the Commander-in-Chief and gave him the result of his reconnaissance, urging that the moment was “extremely advantageous for the First and Second Divisions to come up quickly and bombard the enemy outside the port.” Just then a Russian merchantman appeared to the eastward. She was promptly captured, and confidence was increased by the good omen that she proved to be called the Manchuria. Half-an-hour later he was up with the Admiral, and with fresh exhilaration renewed his strenuous advice, “They have very little spirit left,” he signalled, “and I consider that an attack delivered at once would be very effective.”

Such an attack was no part of the settled plan. The armoured ships were only to hazard a blow under the batteries in the event of the destroyers failing. Clearly they had not failed. “But Admiral Togo,” says the Japanese history, when he received the Third Division’s Report of the reconnaissance thought to himself if the enemy are in this state it will be worth while attacking them, even if I expose my fleet to the fire of the forts.” Accordingly his answer was to order the Third Division to take station in the rear in order of battle, and with his own division in the van he led on for Port Arthur. At 11.0 he turned direct for the enemy, and increasing to 15 knots, he signalled “We are now on the way to attack the enemy’s main force. Go to dinner. The rendezvous is Clifford Island.” It is clear that at this time he had made up his mind, at any reasonable risk, to stake the issue on a full decision. A cruiser was seen which began firing at extreme ranges upon the Flagship Mikasa. She was the Boyarin, which had been sent to scout two hours before when the fleet returned to the anchorage and she was now running back, firing her stern guns to give warning of the enemy’s approach. Admiral Togo at once made the signal to engage, adding this message to the fleet, “Victory or defeat will be decided by this one action. Let every man do his utmost.”

Shortly before, the forts and signal stations had also sighted the enemy and had given warning, but as Admiral Stark had gone ashore to “receive instructions” from the Viceroy there was some delay in getting under way. To the Japanese, who were now about 10,000 metres (11,000 yards) away, the squadron appeared a “huddled mass of the enemy” and as soon as the distance was reduced to 8,500 metres (9,300 yards) a five point turn was made to the westward so as to pass along the Russian line which was just beginning to form. The day was clear with a slight shore mist, and the sea smooth with a gentle breeze from the south. At noon at a range of 8,000 metres (8,700 yards) the Mikasa tried a sighting shot, and eight minutes later the whole Russian fleet advancing in line abreast opened fire. The Mikasa at once replied with all her guns of six-inch and upwards that would bear at ranges varying from 7,500 metres (8,200 yards) to 6,800 metres (7,400 yards), and the rest of the fleet took it up in succession. The Russians then turned into line ahead to the eastward so that the fleets were approaching each other on opposite courses. Two cruisers, the Bayan and Novik, which had been steaming out independently, now turned back, the Bayan taking station in rear of the line, but the little Novik, a third-class cruiser of 3,000 tons, was soon seen steaming boldly out again towards her enemy.8

As the Japanese got the range, hits began to come quickly, and the dense smoke that resulted soon made it difficult to distinguish one Russian ship from another. Quickly too it was evident the enemy were not so much demoralised as Admiral Dewa had believed. The forts were now within range and their fire increased rapidly in intensity. In the first five minutes the Mikasa was hit by a heavy shell that ricochetted, and bursting over her wounded the Engineer-in-Chief, the Flag-Lieutenant and five other officers and men, and wrecked the after bridge. For the Japanese it was the first battle hit of the war and others came quickly for all the First Division, on which the Russians appear to have concentrated. In two minutes the casualties were two officers killed and 17 officers and men wounded. The enemy’s fire which at first had been wild was growing more and more accurate and the Japanese aim in consequence more difficult. Nor could they any longer mark the fall of their projectiles; “our shells,” says the Japanese History, “were bursting alongside the enemy and raising columns of water or hitting the ships and sending out black smoke all round. Volumes of it so concealed the enemy that it was extremely difficult to tell the range.” The whole Japanese line was now in hot action. They had developed their utmost intensity of fire, the ships choosing their opponents independently and shifting from one to the other as they deemed expedient or got a clearer view, but the Russian fire was in no way dominated.

By this time, about 12.20, the flagship was drawing near Liau-ti-shan and the Admiral decided to turn eight points in succession to seaward. It was a critical moment and the Russians were fully alive to their chance. Directly the Mikasa put her helm over the whole of the western batteries concentrated on the turning point, while the rest directed their attention to the armoured cruisers. In spite of the concentrated fire the First Division performed the evolution without damage and rapidly withdrew out of range. The Russian fire now slackened a little and the Japanese thought it was being dominated. But as Admiral Kamimura at the head of armoured cruisers reached the turning point it intensified again and the sea was churned with a storm of projectiles. Several hits were made, but only a dozen men were wounded and no serious damage done to the ships before they were out of range in the wake of the First Division. Still it seemed more by luck than judgment. The Novik, in order to get within range, had been steaming boldly for the enemy through the heavy fire that was turned on her. As the armoured cruisers began to alter course she had reached within 3,000 metres (3,300 yards) and was believed to have fired one or more torpedoes into the mass, which narrowly missed. Then she received a severe hit below the water line which forced her to beat a hasty retreat.9

So far little harm had been done, but to expose the un-armoured division to the ordeal through which the armoured ships had passed was more than the Admiral cared to do. Everything was now concentrated upon it and “shells fell like rain all round them.” By the time the Second Division had got round, their peril was so great that, instead of permitting them to go on, the Admiral signalled they were to turn together out of action. This was done and they escaped with only trifling damage. But according to Russian accounts they were for a time in danger of being cut off; for on seeing the Japanese movement to seaward Admiral Stark had turned 16 points and was coming back, in order, he says, to renew the action. But as the enemy continued to retire he resumed his anchorage.

So after about 40 minutes the engagement ended. The Japanese losses all told amounted to no more than 90 killed and wounded and no ship was seriously damaged. Yet it was obvious that Admiral Dewa, having failed to press his reconnaissance closely enough, had quite underestimated the Russian power of resistance, and that Admiral Togo’s objection to engaging the enemy under their batteries at that time was fully justified. The small result of the storm of fire upon the enemy, had they known it, further endorsed his view. The Russian losses were not above 150 killed and wounded and no ship was injured except the four cruisers Bayan, Askold, Diana, and Novik, who being under way in front of the line, had drawn most of the fire, and even the little Novik, whose brilliant intrepidity had brought her the severest punishment of them all, was repaired in ten days.

In the circumstances Admiral Togo decided to revert to his original programme and return to his base. Apart from the danger of attempting to renew the action it was necessary to draw off at once in order to get the fleet out of reach of the Russian destroyers before dark. It was in vain Admiral Kamimura protested. He urged that his division had suffered very little and was for attacking again in the early morning. But the Admiral held firm. The function with which he had been charged was fulfilled. He had seen the damaged ships being taken into the harbour, he knew there was no longer any fear of the fleet attempting to interfere with the military operations for some time, and he assured his second that by the morrow the Russians would be all safe in port and out of his reach. In his view, therefore, his duty was to return in his base “to start,” as he said, “a fresh course of action.” The first blow had been struck and the idea of returning to the centre to permit the Imperial Staff to adjust their dispositions to its consequences had much good precedent behind it. Accordingly he continued on for his base, steering false courses to throw off the enemy’s destroyers should they pursue. Sending the Third Division direct to the rendezvous off Asan he took both armoured divisions towards Shantung. Thirty-five miles N. by W. of Weihaiwei he altered course in the south-easterly direction and after three or four more changes of course made for Clifford Island. There he arrived about 8.0 next morning and then proceeded to Asan Bay.

In the fleet his decision seems to have been very badly received. There was talk of what Nelson would have clone, and the disgrace of breaking off an action once begun. But in the circumstances such criticism was beside the mark. The real error lay much deeper. Through the neglect of certain fundamental principles of war, both in the design and the execution of the operation, mistakes had been made which were irreparable. They condemned the attack to failure, and when the truth was realised the best that could be asked of the Commander-in-Chief was the moral courage to break off.

It will be remembered that as originally designed by Admiral Togo the operation was to take the form of a holding attack with his flotilla, and that he had no intention of exposing a fleet without reserves to the hazard of batteries. It was to be a preventive operation to cover the passage of the troops. Owing, however, to the political exigencies attending the commencement of hostilities his reluctance to expose the Combined Squadron unnecessarily was overriden and a half-measure was forced upon him. He was ordered to take his battle squadron off the enemy’s port, not with a definite view to “seeking out the enemy’s fleet” but in order to attack with it if the destroyers failed. The operation was thus given an offensive form without a true offensive intention. The underlying idea of destroying the enemy’s naval force was half merged in the original idea of covering a military operation. It was not seen that if the whole fleet was to be concentrated off the enemy’s port the utmost positive results should have been sought which that concentration could be made to give. The battle squadron, if it went there at all, should have been instructed to seize the favourable moment to press its offensive movement home. That moment would come immediately after the flotilla attack. Yet to no one does it seem to have occurred that the success of the destroyers was the best reason for attacking with the squadron and not a reason for its holding off. It is true that at that time there was a widely spread tendency to exaggerate the possibilities of the new naval weapon. It was not so well understood that where a decisive blow is looked for the torpedo must only be regarded as preparatory or complementary to an attack with the ships. Still the well-known principle of sustained and continuous effort in offence should have suggested that the destroyer attack must be followed up and the whole force present developed in due progression. Had that principle been applied by the Staff to their plan they must have seen how radically unsound was the compromise they were forcing on the Admiral. It was a compromise between attack and defence; and like most strategical compromises it was almost bound to result in action that was neither the one thing nor the other.

With so faulty a departure decisive success was not to be hoped for, unless the Admiral took a high hand with his instructions. But this Admiral Togo was unable to do. Clogged with the half measure, he could not rise to the height of casting himself free from it and taking the course which sound doctrine should have dictated. Obviously, if he was committed to supporting the flotilla with the battle squadron, he should have been in a position to follow up a successful attack instantly. There had been nothing to prevent his taking such a position at the right moment, nothing, indeed, except the neglect of ordinary measures to secure it. Had he detailed a cruiser to keep touch with the flotilla or even to meet it at Round Island after the attack he might have received information of the result by wireless in time to be in position an hour or two earlier than Admiral Dewa had appeared off the port. Had he even made the reconnaissance with his whole fleet instead of with a single cruiser division there would yet have been time to attack while the enemy’s squadron was still demoralised by the shock of the destroyers’ success and the shore batteries were unready for action. In the opinion of the Russians themselves such an attack made soon after dawn must have been fatal. “Admiral Togo,” they say, “should also have followed up the destroyer attack by hurling the whole of his forces upon the Port Arthur squadron, which had been taken by surprise. Instead of waiting till the following day, he should have closed two or three hours afterwards, and brought his fire to bear at short ranges. This fire would probably have destroyed our squadron before the coast batteries could have offered any serious resistance. By the morning not only was the Russian squadron ready for action, but the coast batteries were also ready.”10 The Russians in fact were given, for no apparent reason, three or four hours to recover their equilibrium, and the attack was made, not only when the psychological moment was past, but late in a short winter’s day when there would be no sufficient time to complete the business before the fear of a destroyer counter-attack would force it to be broken off.

Nor did the tale of error end here. The decision to attack with the squadron was an after-thought—a sudden resolution which had not been duly considered nor prepared for adequately in the scheme of operations. It was known to involve the highest risk—it was admitted that the whole issue of the war might turn upon its result. Yet it was made hastily at the suggestion of a subordinate who had reported on insufficient grounds after a perfunctory reconnaissance not pushed home. Admiral Dewa was undoubtedly to blame for expressing himself with a certainty which the imperfect work he had done did not warrant. The Commander-in-Chief was no less in error for treating the impression of his subordinate as though it were a certainty properly arrived at. The operation to which he committed himself was vital and hazardous in a high degree and it was not justified unless made upon the highest certainty which the regular methods of obtaining information could give. It was Admiral Togo’s misfortune that the impression upon which he acted was false, but acting on a false impression is only to be excused when every possible precaution has been taken to ascertain the real situation, and this neither he nor Admiral Dewa had done.

The consequences of the two errors—the neglect to attack at the right moment and the decision to attack on imperfect information—were of the most serious kind. At the outset of the struggle the naval service was made to feel that it was falling back from the high standard it had set itself; and, apart from the moral effect, the missed opportunity was to make itself felt in months of disheartening work, marked by losses to the fleet, which, if the Russian fears were well grounded, a prompt attack with all its hazards could scarcely have involved, and by untold waste of life in the Army to whose lot it fell to repair the original mistake.’

1 No details of these operations are available. The above facts are taken from a despatch from our own Commander-in-Chief (China Station), and one from Mr. Jordan, our Minister at Seoul, February 7th, but mainly from the Opérations Maritimes de la Guerre Russo-Japonaise Historique Officiel publié par l’êtat Major Général de la Marine Japonaise, Vol. II, page 160. This is the French Staff translation of the Official Published Naval History of the War, and is cited as Japanese Published History.

2 Hist de la Guerre Russo-Japonaise, by Noga Arigo, Admiralty Prof, of International Law at Tokio, page 31.

3 Morskoi Sbornik June, 1912.

4 Ibid.

5 The details of the damage are given by the Morskoi Sbornik as follows:—

“The Retvizan was struck on the port side forward, and the electric light instantly went out. She took a list to port, to right which the starboard magazines were flooded. The list of 11 degrees was reduced to 5 degrees. The electric light was restored and in 45 minutes steam was raised and she was ready to move. It was 3 hours before high water and she grounded on a shoal in the gullet, narrowing the channel considerably. Five men in the submerged torpedo flat were killed by the explosion.

“The Tzesarevich at first listed to starboard and then to port. The starboard lobbies were flooded to rectify the list, which reached 18 degrees. The electric light went out. Steam was raised and at 12.50 (1.45 Japanese time) she got under way and steaming round the squadron to the westward—steering by her engines—she entered the gullet. She was met by tugs which took her in tow, but she grounded before reaching the basin. One man in the steering engine compartment was drowned.

“The torpedo which struck the Pallada was running almost on the surface of the water and burst in a coal bunker, filled with coal. The bunker was flooded and the ship listed 4 degrees. It was due to the presence of the coal that the magazine beyond did not explode. But the force of the gases broke a door of one of the ammunition hoists, and the flame rushed through it to the battery deck and to the wardroom. A fire broke out, and the stifling and poisonous gas of the explosive spread over the living deck and engine room. It was 10 minutes before the fire was extinguished. All six turbines were started, the water pumped out and the hole temporarily repaired. Steam was raised and the ship got under way, steaming to a shallow spot off the lighthouse, where she dropped anchor. Seven men on board the Pallada perished, all having been poisoned by the gases. Moreover, 32 men suffered from the same poisonous gases, the majority going on the sick list on the 2nd and 3rd day after the attack.”

6 In the official reports of the Japanese destroyers, hits are claimed by the 1st Division only. “In examining the operations of this night’ says the Morskoi Sbornik, “we see that it was due to our searchlights that the Japanese destroyers found our vessels. We see also that the three vessels damaged were hit by torpedoes discharged before we opened fire. The rest of the attack was ineffective. The Japanese torpedoes were fitted with net-cutters which diminished their speed and accuracy. They were moreover fired from a very great distance, although the range, according to the Japanese reports, was only a few cables.”

7 Morskoi Sbornik and Captain Bubnov.

8 This is the Russian account from the Morskoi Sbornik. The Japanese Confidential History says, “The enemy did not stir from their anchorages,” and that, three cruisers alone were in motion; Askold, Novik, and Bayan.

9 The Japanese Confidential History mentions only one torpedo, which passed just ahead of the Iwate. But Admiral Kamimura and Captain Kato, his Chief of Staff, told our attaché that two passed 30 yards from the Idzumo, one ahead and one astern. Lieutenant Steer of the Novik however gives us to understand that no torpedoes were fired. See The Novik, p. 25, but the book is quite untrustworthy.

10 Morskoi Sbornik.