In the Yellow Sea Part 29

Investigation at once discovered the reason. We had not proceeded far under the star-shower of sh.e.l.ls when the report was made. The wire was cut! cut by a fluke of the anchor, which had chafed through it. There was no alternative, we must return.

In a few moments the boat was heading back, careless of the meteoric display around us. The skipper sprang up from the wheel-shelter and refastened the wire, unheeding the increasing storm of projectiles, which flew around us and pitted the icy water like hail. But again he was met by failure. The charge refused to ignite, and there was no other chance now save handwork,--that is, by doing it himself, amid the greatest danger of death by shot or sh.e.l.l, or drowning from the boom, or explosion,--and all this in the black darkness, relieved only by the gleams of murderous sh.e.l.ls. The crew worked well and bravely, excited, as one may say, perhaps, by the coolness of their chief. The shot came leaping, ricochetting over the harbour; the sh.e.l.ls screamed most unpleasantly in our ears; fingers were numbed, and our breathing was like steam amid those exertions. But the skipper landed on the boom, fixed three very destructive charges, and resumed his post at the wheel, ready, when the engines were moved full speed ahead. The deed was done!

Then the line was pulled taut, the detonator exploded, the three charges flared, the boom was rent, and the torpedo-boat No. 6 sped away over the sea, past the staring flotilla at a distance, keeping her perilous course, past the narrow entrance, amid such a cannonade as I had had never dreamed of,--a duel now between the victors and the victims of the outrage. But the boat returned, unharmed, in the darkness, and in a short time showed her lights in the offing, out of reach of the hail of shot and flaming sh.e.l.l, to enjoy the rest which the gallant crew had fairly earned when the report had been received.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE DEED WAS DONE! TORPEDO-BOAT NO. 6 SPED AWAY]

This was an expedition conducted with great intrepidity, and crowned with immediate success, the results of which proved most disastrous to the defence. Next night two flotillas penetrated the harbour through the wider breach No. 6 had made, and a fearful engagement ensued. In this two torpedo-boats were lost, and in No. 6 the tubes were frozen, so the torpedoes were not discharged. One of the first two boats referred to was blown up by a sh.e.l.l, but the great man-o'-war, _Ting-yuen_, was scuttled by a torpedo or torpedoes, and next day sank slowly in sight of the fleet. The j.a.panese had had two boats lost and two injured. The latter were sent to Port Arthur to repair. The boat I was in was struck fifty times, once by a sh.e.l.l.

This was "warm" work, but next night it became warmer still, for the leader of the expedition reported that the admiral, with tears in his eyes, had told him of the necessity of destroying the rest of the fleet, and the danger of it. On that second night, the 4th, we knew that many men had been killed by shot, that many besides had been scalded, and many actually frozen to death in the water, even under comparatively fortunate circ.u.mstances. The admiral and his captains knew the danger, and the latter fully appreciated it when next day a further attack was determined upon.

"You may be unable to return through the breach," said the admiral.

"The Chinese will be prepared and alive to the danger."

"I am quite ready," replied the officer addressed, calmly.

"I am grieved to order the attack. But there is no help for it. It must be done for our country's sake. Do your best, as I am sure you will, and emblazon your name upon the scroll of fame."

With these words the admiral dismissed the commander of the flotilla, and with a touching farewell. They "could scarcely have expected to meet again," says the narrator of the interview.

When the officer rejoined his boat he communicated his orders, and did not hide the danger. Death was almost certain, there were no lanterns, no plans, no orders, no signals. The boats cast off everything not necessary for the attack, as a forlorn hope goes into action unfettered.

"Our boats and our bodies are the enemy's." This was the signal. But little hope, and less alarm, was displayed. At a quarter to three a.m.

(February 6th) the boats left the fleet to destroy Chinese ships, but our torpedo-boat came back, having collided with the boom in the dark.

So I returned unharmed.

We, outside, could not see the results until daylight, but the roar of the cannon, the flashing of the sweeping search-lights, and the bursting of the sh.e.l.ls could be perceived in the darkness. We saw rockets signalling in the harbour, but until the boats returned great anxiety was felt. At daybreak they all returned safely, and reported three ships sunk. These were the _Wei-yuen_, _Lai-yuen_, and _Pao-Hwa_.

On the 5th I had rejoined the _Naniwa_, by permission, and saw that the contest could only end in one way soon. When the news came on the 6th February that the three ships had been sunk there was great rejoicing, and many congratulations were exchanged in the squadron. On the 7th we all took part in "the ball," sh.e.l.ling the forts and firing for a couple of hours until my head seemed splitting, and I was perfectly deaf for a while after.

We were in the middle of the smoke and din when a signal was made high above the vapour that the Chinese torpedo-boats were escaping by the western pa.s.sage in the direction of Chefoo. The First Flying Squadron was ordered to pursue them--the _Yoshino_ leading us. She is a very fast cruiser, her speed being twenty-three knots, the rest being not much more than eighteen. We spun along, full speed, and some alarm was caused in the _Naniwa_ by a sh.e.l.l which plumped into the coal-bunker.

Fortunately the protection afforded by the coal prevented any serious damage being done, and the Chinese boats were all destroyed save two, which managed to elude the pursuers, though crippled, and to reach the treaty port--Chefoo.

I was anxious to go there too, as I believed I could find protection, but of course the _Naniwa_ could not land me at that time. The ship returned to the blockade; the attack and bombardment was resumed on the 8th February, when the combined squadrons, having silenced the fort on Sih Island, destroyed some hundreds of yards of the terrible boom, and cut it up.

These tactics were continued during the next three days, when the ships attacked with flags flying as if in antic.i.p.ation of victory. The severe bombardment was continued, the Chinese pluckily replied; they did considerable damage to the enemy; and the attack was continued until night. Still the Chinese admiral resisted, though the losses he had sustained in ships and boats were most serious. The once large and formidable Peiyang Fleet had dwindled away, and now only four ships and a few gunboats represented the former powerful array. The end was at hand.

We heard afterwards some particulars of the concluding days of the contest, which must have been severely trying for the Celestials. In our fleet the termination of the war was everywhere discussed. Port Arthur captured, its forts denuded of guns, Kinchow, and other places inland in j.a.panese hands; Wei-hai-Wei on the brink of destruction--what chance had the Chinese admiral and generals? Better had they accepted the offer of the j.a.panese and surrendered at first.

We were all awake early in the morning of the 12th February, because experience told us that the enemy must either resist to the death that day or capitulate. The blockade was so close, the odds against the Chinese so great, that we had already wondered at the sustained resistance, The extreme limit of Celestial endurance had been reached, though we did not antic.i.p.ate the result as it actually happened.

As the grey winter day rose out of the sea to port, all eyes were fixed upon the batteries and the ships in harbour. Telescopes swept the hills and platforms, the traces of the wrecked boom, the almost deserted islands, the shattered forts. As men gazed in silence, broken only at intervals by duty orders, a sense of depression fell upon me, as if something unpleasant awaited us. Yet precautions had been taken--nothing could harm us. Nevertheless one _felt_ something was approaching. The snowclad hills lay silent and cold over all--a shroud spread over dying Wei-hai-Wei. Surely that small Chinese gunboat cleaving the lumpy water had nothing to do with the _denouement_. One boat amongst so many ironclads and torpedo-boats could not do any harm.

It was only eight o'clock then. "What do you say, Tomi? A _white flag_! Surrender! Never! never!"

"Yes it is," said Tomi, laughing. "Hurrah! you would say in England.

The admiral has surrendered. There goes the message of peace. He is making for the _Matsushima_. We win! we win!"

We looked again. All the ships' companies were on the alert, but though every mind had at once grasped the position, scarce a mouth yet betrayed the feelings of delight and satisfaction that must have been experienced. What would the admiral's reply be? Three torpedo-boats at once came to escort the stranger, and to make inquiry concerning her business--at least so we interpreted the conversation which seemed, judging from gestures, to be proceeding. A boat left the Chinese vessel, and the messenger was carried on board the j.a.panese flagship.

The message must have been important, because some officers were quickly summoned from other of our fleet. Subsequently a steamer quitted the squadron for the eastern sh.o.r.e, presumably to acquaint the Commander-in-Chief of the army of the incident, but these were only surmises at the time, though afterwards verified.

That afternoon the news ran through the ships that the Chinese had surrendered, and Admiral Ito had accepted the offer. He trusted fully to Admiral Ting to act as he desired, promising safe-conduct. But when next day the gunboat again appeared she carried her flag "half-mast."

Ting and his generals had committed suicide. They could not face the disgrace,--a disgrace which they knew would be visited upon all their families, for in China retribution is exacted from all the family for the fault of one. Ting had taken opium.

The melancholy signal to the fleet was received with honest regret.

There was no exultation over the fallen enemy, no music brayed out triumphal strains of victory, only the wailing notes of funeral marches in saddened plaints echoed across the water. The gunboat was returned to the Chinese so that it might convey the admiral's body to China, and the place surrendered with all its contents, its troops, sailors, ships, and material, to the j.a.panese, who will retain it till the English come.

Thus fell the fortunes of Wei-hai-Wei, the details of which may be read in many published books and Eastern newspapers.

The Chinese troops were sent to Chefoo or to other places of safety; and the ships captured, not including the released gunboat, ten in all, were manned by j.a.panese sailors, and proceeded under these prize-crews to j.a.pan. The released boat, _Kw.a.n.g Tsi_, was employed as a transport, and in this way I found safety at last.

As soon as the arrangements had been concluded, I made application to be sent to Chefoo, where I antic.i.p.ated to meet Captain Goldheugh. I had had no messages from home for some time save those delivered to friend Tomi, and now that the excitement of war and adventure had subsided I was anxious to leave. Perhaps had I made application to the British commander he would have given me a pa.s.sage to Shanghai, but I had been expecting to meet my captain at Chefoo, and determined to proceed thither. As the gunboat was sailing I requested a "lift" in her, but was warned not to go.

"Your life would not be safe," said one of the officers. "Try a junk, the distance is nothing, and a junk is safe enough. You pay him when he returns with a letter saying you are safe."

"But I have no money--at least, hardly any."

"Quite so," replied Tomi cheerfully. "That is my affair. You will see your captain, no doubt, and he will a.s.sist you. We will signal a junk somehow--presently. The fleet is returning westward."

I thanked my kind entertainers heartily, and protested against their thus paying the piper. But Tomi was a favourite, and the captain's nephew. The captain himself at once "shut me up," good-naturedly, and though he could not send me in one of his boats to Chefoo, he managed to procure me transport to the port, and sent a sailor with me as surety for my safety.

Having taken a regretful farewell of my kind friends I embarked on a junk in the harbour, such a queer craft she seemed. Tomi was in command of the ship's boat which put me on board, and we had quite an affecting parting. But both hoped to meet again, promising to write,--a promise since kept up, when newspapers do not sometimes take the place of letters. (Tomi has sent me much information since, and has translated several articles accompanied by pictures.[1]) However, we parted rather sadly, and on the 19th February I lost sight of the fleet, and reached Chefoo before dark.

[1] These are mentioned in the Preface.--H.F.

A cruise in a junk is not unpleasant, but she seems to a European a very queer boat. The size varies, of course, from a thousand tons downwards; the particular craft I engaged was about half that burden, or perhaps less, teak-built, and carrying a high p.o.o.p; she had two masts, the mainmast with a large sail was very lofty indeed; and she carried a crew of, I think, twenty men--I believe there are more at sea. At anyrate she suited me, and so I came to Chefoo in the _Ching King_, and was landed near the English houses.

Chefoo or Chifu is the name of the treaty port, which is in fact the "European" settlement as distinguished from Yen Tai the native town.

The port is open all the year, and being also a healthy place is more or less frequented by others than business men. The English settlement is on the left, the Chinese town on the right, and in the centre rises the "signal hill" which divides them. When we reached the "stranger"

town we found several vessels sheltered there, and numerous junks, boats, and small craft lying darkly in the water, while the hills above were thickly covered with snow, giving quite an Alpine aspect to the surroundings. Chefoo is a kind of "suburb" of Shanghai, though "outside the radius," and hither come the ships to their haven under the hill, to the sandy sh.o.r.e, to deal in cottons and "shirtings" with the Celestial inhabitants of the (as usual) dirty Chinese town.

My heart beat more rapidly than usual when I stood upon the p.o.o.p-deck of the junk and surveyed the harbour. The signal was greatly in evidence, but the trim, even, respectable houses of the English quarter fixed my attention first, and then my eyes wandered to the shipping, particularly to the agitated red ensigns, which made me thrill with the hope of seeing English faces and clasping English hands, speaking the familiar language,--very familiar in ships,--and of once more meeting Captain Goldheugh late of the _Feng Shui._

I was landed safely, and sent my acknowledgment by the junk, which at once made her way back. As I watched her gradually disappearing, now lost, now evident, amid the vessels, I reflected upon my late adventures, and made up my mind to write them down, and, in the familiar words of the hymn, to make "Bethel" out of "my stony griefs,"

to improve the occasion and to profit by the trouble I had endured.

Then I turned half sadly to the hotel, and was almost immediately hailed loudly in unmistakably British accents.

"Young Julius! ahoy! Hallo there, ye half-bred j.a.p!--come alongside and speak me, or I'll run ye down. My stars! here's a caper. By the powers o' Moll Kelly! is it yourself? It is so!"

The speaker was standing behind me. Had I not sheered off to port I must have collided with him. I had gone ahead and left him in my wake, when I was suddenly brought up all standing. My a.s.sailant was Goldheugh himself. Good Paddy Goldheugh! I was truly delighted, though not greatly surprised, because I had been expecting to find him at Chefoo. Still the meeting was most cordial. We shook hands in the most hearty manner, and when, after some moments of this exercise, we adjourned to the hotel, I told all my news, and awaited his--after I had made a few inquiries for letters, and for Tim, who had gone home.

No black edges! Thank goodness! No ill news? No! In fact, the contrary. My captain was in command of a tidy steamer belonging to his old company, and temporarily on the coast. He had the berth of first mate for me with him, and a "lump of compensation," he said, for shipwreck. He had been satisfied, and hoped I would be. I was!

When he reached his ship he handed me a batch of letters and papers of domestic interest, and a welcome draft upon the Shanghai Bank. All these composed a sort of pastoral symphony which made me feel contented and happy amid the voices and murmurs of congratulation and admiration at my experience. Three days pa.s.sed in perfect peace, reading, writing, and adding up my ideas--and funds. Then we quitted Chefoo, and steamed past Wei-hai-Wei, then in j.a.panese hands, toward Shanghai, and my war experience 'twixt Jack and j.a.p--'twixt China and j.a.pan--was ended.