In the Yellow Sea

CHAPTER XIV

THE SACK OF KINCHOW—RELEASED—"CASTLED"—A CHECK

When my scattered senses returned, I could not quite understand my position. Had I been wounded? Yes, I remembered something striking me on the head. Whatever it was it had grazed my temples, and my hand sought the wound involuntarily. My fingers came away tinged with blood, my head felt very uncomfortable and dizzy, but after a while I sat up and began to wonder what was the matter.

The Chinese soldiers—all those left alive, I mean—had disappeared. Dead or wounded men lay around me, but few of the latter moved, and I began to suspect that the victors had killed most of them. My own escape from death seemed marvellous, for I lay almost helpless. The shouts, shots, and shrieks below in the town told me of the fearful scenes, the pursuit of the vanquished, the death of the fugitives. I attempted to rise to my feet, and had just supported myself by the parapet, when a Japanese picket approached. The men were almost savage, their weapons were bloodstained, their dress disordered and dusty, and splashed with blood; they were shouting, and indulging in what seemed to me fiendish merriment; they were drunken with excitement and the spirit of slaughter; they bayoneted the few living Chinese within reach, and then levelled their rifles at me, laughing still.

Holding up my hands, I called out the few words I had heard on board the Naniwa, "Long live Japan!" and added in English, "I am no enemy. Look! I am a friend."

Whether the appeal touched their hearts or they recognised the English tongue, they certainly perceived that I was not a native Chinese or Manchu. They examined my appearance closely, saw my stained and painted face, through which spots of white British skin appeared, and my blackened features, which could not belong to any Celestial being, and they looked surprised. One fellow, in sheer brutality, as he intended, seized my pigtail and wrenched me round to torture me, when, behold, it came away in his hand!

A shout of laughter succeeded at the expense of the brutal soldier, whose face was a study for a caricaturist, and his profound surprise saved my life. At this juncture I recalled the badge and permit which the captain and officers had given me. In a moment I had grasped them, and even as the angry soldiers advanced with sanguinary threats to bayonet me, the priceless permit, and, even more than it, the badge of the naval officer, arrested my would-be murderers.

I was saved! The levelled rifles were shouldered, and when the men had talked together, they intimated to me that I must accompany them—to their officer, I presumed. Securely guarded, I proceeded, taking care not to exhibit any of my disgust at the many terrible scenes I noticed, until we met an officer who was wearing white gloves, and appeared almost a dandy in the midst of slaughter and destruction.

My "pass" and badge were shown to him, and finding I could not understand his language, nor even "Corean-Chinese," he bade me accompany him to the general's quarters. I paced the streets, closely followed by my original captors, the observed of all those by whom we passed, maddened soldiers triumphant, Chinese civilians despairing, and dead heaps of fugitives, who received no quarter. It is true, as a Japanese told me, "We do not kill our prisoners, as the Chinese do." No, they do not kill prisoners in cold blood—but they leave as few as possible to survive the battle.

We passed through the narrow streets, now thronged with Japanese, past the shops with their suspended lanterns and long scrolled signs, but had not reached the officer's destination, when a Japanese saluted, and, glancing at me, said a few words to my leader. I gazed at the man in surprise, and some diluted pleasure, because I recognised him as my former associate Hoko, the scout with whom I had been travelling, and by whom I had been robbed.

Our eyes met in mutual recognition. He made signs to me, and uttered a few sentences in French, asking whether I had presented my permit, and how I came to Kinchow. He informed the officer; and the man being an accredited interpreter and trustworthy, the officer dismissed my unruly escort, and bade the interpreter take care of me pending his own arrival at headquarters.

We exchanged few remarks during our passage to the general. I was stiff and sore, aching in head and limbs, weary and dishevelled. Besides I had a grudge against the interpreter, and anxious for release. He seemed quite careless of my feelings. In this manner I accompanied my preserver to headquarters, where as an interpreter he was welcome, and in a few minutes I was introduced into the presence of the general. My conductor briefly explained matters, mentioning the fact of my having been rescued from the Naniwa, and the manner in which I had been received by the officer as an English gentleman and a seaman. A Japanese officer, who spoke English fluently, was able to confirm this statement by my interpreted account, and thenceforward all was plain sailing.

"What did the general wish me to do?" I asked the officer in English.

"He will send you to Port Arthur when we go there, and when we take the place he will no doubt permit you to find your way to an English ship."

"Then I am again a prisoner?"

"Not at all, you can proceed whither you please. There is not the least objection to your getting shot, if you prefer that end."

"I understand; you think the Chinese will oppose your forward movement?"

"Certainly they will. The fleet is at Talien Bay, though, and we have the enemy in a sack. They may resist, but they must be beaten; there is no cohesion. We are united, firm, and drilled. The Chinese cannot stand against us."

I acquiesced, but continuing, I said—

"Suppose any Power comes to the assistance of the Chinese?"

"Then we shall still fight," he replied.

"Even Russia or Germany?" I asked quickly.

"Ah, that is a different matter! Russia is dangerous—she wants so much. But, unless she is too intrusive, we shall not oppose her. We do not fear her even, though she intends to rule the East some day. She shall never rule Japan. Come with me, I have the pleasure to convoy you."

"You think the Chinese will not resist you?" I continued as we proceeded to his quarters—or rather, to the house where he had temporarily taken up his lodgings by right of sword.

"No, I do not say they will not resist; I say they will not win. We have had a very simple and easy task hitherto."

"Port Arthur is almost impregnable, I hear." He smiled,—the Japanese frequently smile.

"Ah, the Chinamen will not stay. Our preparations are already being made. In less than a week we shall secure Port Arthur. You shake your head? You will see."

When we reached the house which the officer had made his own, by conquest, temporarily, he gave orders to a soldier, who I supposed was a tailor, for he came and took my measure with his eye, and walking round me made his notes in his mind. When he had departed, my kind military friend caused me to rest, sent me food, and had my clothes removed and sent me a supply of fresh water, in which I revelled. My shaven hair caused him some amusement, but he supplied me with a cap which the useful tailor had procured, and when I awoke from my sleep next morning I found a new semi-European suit awaiting me, with some underclothing.

My thanks, and some suggestions respecting remuneration to the tailor, were laughed aside, and the officer then informed me that he knew my acquaintance the sailor Tomi well, and the interpreter had informed him of my first meeting with him, as had been related on board the Naniwa. On further inquiry, I ascertained that my military host was Tomi's brother, and this quite accounted for the manner in which he had received me. The brother had been in London, and had met much kindness there, so they had in my case repaid it in full towards me.

This officer, whose kindness I shall ever remember, sent me a note to say that the army was advancing, and the interpreter would accompany me towards Port Arthur. I was pleased to hear this, and anxious to interview the man again, but he did not appear till evening on the 7th, when he brought the news that the army from Kinchow had taken the forts above Talien, and the Japanese fleet had arrived in the bay.

This seemed to me incredible, but I ascertained subsequently that the Chinese garrison had retired, and the fleet had fired at empty forts until the troops displayed their flags upon the deserted ramparts.

"Is the Naniwa in the bay?" I asked.

"Yes, she and the other vessels are there now.

"Can you send me away from there?" I said. "Can Lieutenant Tomi" (I called him lieutenant) "find a passage for me to Chefoo?"

"Will ascertain," was his reply. But he came no more that evening.

Meantime I made my plans for escape. I had had enough of war and battles in strange countries amid strangers. With my own countrymen a campaign would have been comparatively pleasant, but under my present circumstances the adventure was not very enjoyable, and though I had been singularly fortunate in my cruise, I considered prudence the better part of valour, and a timely retreat was advisable, so I determined to elope at the first opportunity.

Provided with clothes, and possessing cash; furnished with a permit like a special correspondent, I made my way about the cantonments and bivouacs of the Japanese army, and heard a great deal respecting their exploits, yet in no boasting manner. Certainly the officers and men were elated, but that was but natural under the circumstances. It is true they were very much incensed at the Chinese, and swore fearful vengeance upon them when they again attacked; but that was not surprising when one saw the Chinese proclamations for so much for the head of a Jap—as if for a savage wolf in Old England—and an increased reward for the body of a prisoner.

Mind, these placards were displayed upon the walls, printed in character, in yellow, and signed by the chief of the district in the name of the Emperor of China. Japanese soldiers were decapitated, and hacked when dead. Even the trees were bearing ghastly fruits of savage warfare at times. So one can hardly wonder if the Japanese retaliated upon their foes, however much we may regret their subsequent vengeance. When one sees prisoners hanging by the feet to the branches of a tree, and fearfully and horribly mutilated besides by the Chinese; and, when dead, pelted by lads "for fun" as the bodies swing in the wind, one hesitates to dub the Chinaman a decent savage! But this is Chinese warfare, and must end in clearing away the nation from the earth which advocates and practises such barbarities.

The army was under the command of Marshal Oyama. The general who had released me was General Yamaji, a rather sleepy-looking man, wearing a moustache and long goatee upon a rather fat face; his hair was thick and long, and his ears appeared to me very long and big. He wore medals and stars, one in the centre of his chest; he had a profusion of lace in curling cords, so to speak, upon his sleeves, epaulets and shoulder-knots. The marshal, when I saw him, was decked with stars—quite a galaxy. He had rather a humorous face, and it was quite devoid of hair. Some of the other officers appeared as well set up and "groomed" as British officers, their short hair, shaven cheeks, and trim moustaches, all aiding the resemblance, with bright keen expression and smartness of manner.

While making these observations, which I have recorded as they occurred to me, I lost no opportunity to escape to the sea, but though I was permitted to wander about, and even assisted in my searches, I found no opening for retreat. There were correspondents of European, and even Japanese, newspapers and illustrated periodicals, but though they were most polite and sympathetic, none of them assisted me in the way I desired. Whether they credited my narrative or not one cannot say, but they—perhaps wisely—did not seem actually anxious to get me away by stratagem. On the other hand, they were not unkind.

On that memorable 7th November the guns of the Japanese warships were heard outside, and speculation was rife. The troops had already advanced to Talien Bay, where forts protect the peninsula of the "Regent's Sword," as the narrow isthmus is called. If the invaders captured these forts, the road to Port Arthur would be open, and Shing-Ching would be at the mercy of the Japanese. They did not hesitate to advance against these strongholds. Three detachments marched bravely on, supported by artillery and cavalry, and I followed as a spectator, well in the rear, but not out of range.

The troops advanced full of determination, and were received with an equally decided fire—for a short time. The assailants took no notice of these rounds, but, dropping a few of their number, rushed on; I, surprised at myself, followed, keeping under shelter as much as possible from fragments of soaring shells, which were few and far between. The troops reached the forts, and with a volley mounted to the walls, protected by their artillery. Then came a pause, then a distant cheer, renewed again and again. The Japanese flag was waving over the forts, and the Chinese, pursued by bullets and shell-fire, were running away as fast as their feet could carry them. The fugitives had quitted their guns—in many cases undischarged—and were "cutting away" to Port Arthur, their flying forms looking as unlike soldiers as possible to European eyes, their heads being bound up as with silk handkerchiefs—perhaps to keep the pigtail out of harm's way, for I noticed this head-dress was almost general with Chinese.

The Talien forts were thus captured, to my extreme surprise. I climbed up the hill and reached one of them afterwards; and while seeking a way to the seaside, considerating which path I had best pursue to escape to the outlying fleet in the bay, a friendly hand was placed upon my shoulder firmly, and held me. I turned suddenly, startled by the sudden arrest. Five Japanese soldiers had come upon me, bringing two unfortunate Chinese prisoners. They bound me in silence, and led me away, making no reply even by gesture to my complaints.

CHAPTER XV

AN ADVENTURE ON THE HILLS—THE VALLEY OF
THE SHADOW OF DEATH—TALIEN-WAN

For a while I was passive. Then, realising the danger of this new situation, I made violent efforts to escape my captors. A prod of a sword-bayonet was the only reply, and the sharp steel point caused a cry of pain to escape me. What had I done? I looked at the men who had captured me. They did not appear to be regular soldiers. They were armed indeed, but they lacked the uniform, the gaiters, and the knapsacks, so heavy to be borne, which the Japanese regular infantry wear. Where were the white-crowned caps or the white bands of the regiments I had seen? nor was the grenade-star of the engineers visible. Then I guessed that these men were camp-followers—coolies—robbers, perhaps, who had got out of hand and intended to kill or torture the Chinese. Finding me in the fort, and a stranger, they had seized me too. No one amid all the hurrying soldiers took any notice of my escort save to glance at us. The spectacle of Chinese prisoners was too common then.

"The Japanese never kill their prisoners." These soothing words came into my mind as the party of camp-followers descended the hill—not in the direction of the camp which I had quitted, but in that of the seaside. As we advanced I could see the warships shelling the villages along the coast, punishing the innocent natives. My captors also saw them, and gesticulated savagely. Then the idea struck me that I was in the power of banditti! Men who made war equally upon both sides, and in Japanese garb or in Chinese dress plundered or murdered all alike. The two Chinese, my companions in misfortune, wore buttons on their hats. They were perhaps mandarin officers. The buttons seemed to me to be of glass or crystal, and the men were perhaps of moderately high rank. The coral button is the highest token, and descends to blue and lapis-lazuli, to crystal and gilt buttons.

These officers made no reply to the remarks which I supposed were addressed to them, if they understood them. But when we had reached a retired ravine amongst the twisted hills which bound that coast, our captors raised their pistols and evidently demanded money, tearing at our dress, and searching our garments and persons. All this time the Chinese gentlemen submitted to the insults with a truly Christian, or Chinese, patience. But one could discern the flash of the eye and the movement of the face which spoke of the passion within. When we had been robbed, we were bound by our ankles and made to stand against the slope of the hill, half-naked, wholly chilled, and destitute. Verily, between Jack and Jap I was having a cheerful season.

My belt and all my money, my "pass" and badge, which I prized most highly, were confiscated. The Chinese officers were even worse treated—their clothing was appropriated, their rings and distinctions. All this time no one had taken any trouble about us. Everyone apparently was occupied in fighting or pursuing the fugitives, of whom a number had been taken to the rear.

When the robbers had completed their work, and prevented our escape, they slowly retired to the end of the ravine, covering us with their purloined rifles as they went backward. At times these pleasant gentlemen halted, aimed at us, and again retired, till I began to think they would leave us, bound, to die there of cold and hunger. Then again I fancied they intended to shoot at us as targets, and practise upon us, and this idea was almost confirmed by the way in which they separated into a line; they took up positions apart, and looked to their arms. The suspense was torture!

I looked at my fellow-prisoners of olive complexion, they were perfectly passive, and apparently unconcerned by these manoeuvres. But I was not. After the first glance at them I concentrated my gaze upon the robbers, who evidently wished to put us away to the place where no tales can be told. I watched the levelled rifles, I heard a voice say something, I saw five faces laid upon the gun-stocks, and uttering a cry fell flat on my face as a heavy body came hurtling down the ravine and kicked up a furious dust beyond us. The roar and the detonations arose simultaneously. Then more guns, but perhaps blank—at least they did no visible harm; and then, after a while, silence: deadly, thick silence in the solitary ravine near the village on the cliff!

I lay still, half-suffocated, breathing with great difficulty, but quite afraid to move. The shells had ceased, the "blank shots" had stopped resounding amid the hills, the robbers had fled—for I could not hear them, and the Chinese I knew were habitually silent. But the silence was particularly impressive after the late uproar, and even though I was glad to lie unmolested I began to wish for a change from the death-like silence of the now gloomy ravine. The sun was disappearing into the clouds beyond the farthest hills, and still no one came. I determined to rise. I moved, and felt rather dizzy; perhaps I had been asleep! I sat up. What had happened?

I gazed around me in all directions, unable to comprehend the result of the adventure. The first objects which met my wondering eyes were the five camp-followers lying in all sorts of attitudes, dead and mutilated; their rifles lay at their feet or rested upon the bodies. They had been instantly killed; and, indeed, partly destroyed.

Turning my head seaward I beheld the ships at a distance, and close by me the Chinese officers resting limp and lifeless against the rocks, wearing the same stolid expression upon their now pale-yellow features, their eyes being nearly closed altogether. Again I asked myself what had happened? What—who—had killed all these men and yet spared me?

My first movement was directed to my feet. I managed to unbind my ankles, and after a while was able to walk steadily. Then, moved by curiosity first—not by compassion, I regret to say—I advanced cautiously towards the camp-followers, still clad in the leggings and loose blouses, a kind of undress uniform. I went up and stood over them. They were dead, blown to pieces by a shell, I decided; their rifles lying upon their chests, or beside them. But what had killed the Chinese officers, then? They, too, were dead. It was not possible that the shell would have slain them also and left me alone alive!

I took up one of the rifles and examined it. It had been discharged. Another, and another! Yes, all five were empty! Then the fellows had fired at us as I had anticipated. Anticipated is the correct expression. I had anticipated the discharge by one second, when I beheld the flying body—the shell—in the air dark against the sky and flaming. I had fallen flat: the bullets had struck above me; the fiery message had completed the tragedy of the day.

That was all! By some impulse I had flung myself on my face, no doubt in fear you will say—perhaps. I was very young, and did not wish to pose as a hero when there was no gain in bravado and no dishonour in stooping. I have read of soldiers "ducking" at a cannon-ball, and why is it blameworthy in me—a lad almost—if I winced at the bullet of the assassin? At anyrate I didn't see the good of being killed, and I "ducked" to the shell, and to the expected bullets.

What could I do now? Evening was closing in, and to wander amid those hills alone would be to woo death once more. Yet to remain there with the dead was worse. So I took a look at the robbers, and ventured to search the pockets of the leader of the party, from which I took my precious "passes" and the money, which were still in my belt. Then, having secured them as before, I quitted the scene of slaughter, and made my way across the darkening hills, thankful to the Providence which had preserved me from a horrible death.

All the night I wandered aimlessly—fancying that I was near the camp and the fires, but finding deep and black ravines between myself and them. At length I gave way, and seating myself in a deserted spot, not without qualms concerning wild animals, and commending myself to Heaven, I slept and dreamed.

My dream figured a kind of Robinson Crusoe incident. The savages were preparing their feast on the desert island, I thought, and were passing back and forward in front of the flames. Even in my dream the air "bit shrewdly"—and I shivered and looked on. A vivid dream indeed! I could almost fancy I was awake. I could see the men and the fire, and distinguished dark forms carrying others and throwing them into the flames. My senses were leaving me. Was this a dream or a vision of the fiend's concoction? Was I mad? Had my trouble unhinged my mind?

I shut my eyes and tried to think. I pinched myself, and thumped my chest. I was awake! Opening my eyes I sat up. Still the same weird scene: the black mountain glade, the bright, cold sky studded with stars, the great leaping flame surmounted by thick vapour which rose slowly and crawled along the hill inland. What could it be? I lay for a while, and then crept nearer and nearer to attempt to distinguish the actors in this Walpurgis night-drama enacted on the Manchurian Brocken.

Nearer and nearer I came, lying still a while and then proceeding. The actors were men: I decided that; but their occupation? I lay and looked.

It seemed to me very astonishing that these funereal figures should be thus occupied in such a stealthy manner in an outlying spot amid the hills. What they were destroying I could not discern, because all the surroundings beyond the glare of the fire were more intensely dark than the atmosphere, but I could see, time after time, that the men carried burdens, and cast them into the flames. Then the fearful reflection came into my mind—

These men, Japanese, were thus disposing of their prisoners by torture! Yet I heard no cries, nor saw any resistance.

Again I crawled nearer, nearer. I was then within the circle of leaping light, and lay as still as possible.

Two men appeared near me. They looked around them, and, horror of horrors! saw me extended upon the coarse herbage, my staring eyes reflecting the glare of the flames, no doubt. They at once came towards me, their blackened faces and untidy dress causing them to appear absolutely repulsive. They might have posed, in such surroundings, for fiends incarnate.

Without a word they raised me by shoulders and below the knees; in a careless, rough manner they advanced towards the fire, which was blazing fiercely at a little distance. I could feel the heat of it, but so upset was I, and so perplexed, that I could not utter a sound. My tongue was a piece of dry stick in my mouth, my lips were parched and cracked, and I was almost in a fever. The whole seemed a horrible nightmare—the fire and smoke, the blackness of the more distant surroundings, the black inquisitors, like the assistants pictured in illustrations of the burnings under Queen Mary, which I had seen in the Tower of London—a favourite book of mine. All the accessories were frightful, stupefying, maddening! yet I could utter no complaint, nor was I able to resist my captors.

But fortunately this hypnotic trance did not continue. The smell of oil (petroleum) penetrated my half-conscious brain, and aroused me from my stupor. The oil was blazing in the fire, the receptacles—and bodies, I had fancied them also—were steeped in oil, the pungent smell of which had aroused my faculties. I wriggled in my bearers' hands, and they let me fall suddenly and heavily with some loud exclamations.

Other assistants in this holocaust came up at this, and all of them chattered and stared, but I understood none of their remarks or exclamations. Left to myself, I rose to my feet, and stood there in the circle as if the victim of some usury game. To my requests for information they only replied in the Japanese language,—so far I could understand,—and then again the pass and badge proclaimed my identity. These relics were passed from hand to hand, and I felt what perhaps a custodian of the Bank of England feels when he first sees a lump of uncoined gold passing from hand to hand amongst privileged spectators to the door of the vault, and wonders whether the precious sample will return to him. Thus was my attention directed to my credentials. They did come back; and when the men had burned all the bodies and coffins they took me to the camp again.

Then I understood the scene I had witnessed. The Japanese habit is to burn the bodies of the dead after an engagement, for sanitary reasons. The coffins are steeped in oil, and then burned in some remote place, after certain rites performed. I had wandered into this Gehenna, and had been rescued from the fire into which I had been so nearly cast.

When we returned to the camp my identity was firmly established. My acquaintance, Hoko, the interpreter, was summoned, and he again constituted himself my guardian. Well it was that he did, for in twelve hours I was in a high fever. My brain had been overtaxed, and my body so reduced, that recovery seemed almost hopeless, as I afterwards was informed. But the attack was sharp and short. In less than two weeks I was on my legs again, tottering indeed, but useful, and my first question asked of the officer who spoke English was—

"Can I get away from Port Arthur?"

"Perhaps. We have not taken it yet."

"Ah!" I said, "then it is different from what you imagined?"

"No; we have been compelled to await the heavy guns."

"When will they arrive?"

"They are expected immediately. When they are planted we shall assault the forts and seize the port."

"Has there been fighting?"

"Yes; outposts and pickets have been engaged frequently."

"Is that artillery now? I hear firing."

"Yes; there is another attack developing. We do not fear."

There was a pause, then I asked—

"What day is it, pray?"

"In your calendar it is the twentieth of November."

"The twentieth! Then I have been here ill for thirteen days? How can I ever repay this kindness and care? Most heartily I thank you, sir, and"—

"But say no more, please. I am glad. Farewell."

He hastened away, leaving me overwhelmed with gratitude, and highly appreciative of the courtesy and kindness of the Japanese officers both of army and navy.

CHAPTER XVI

PORT ARTHUR—THE MASSACRE IN THE TOWN—RELEASE

When the Japanese officer had retired so modestly from my outburst of gratitude, I made up my mind to see all I could of the affairs of the war, and to reach a place of safety. I soon found that I was premature in this, because, though an engagement was actually taking place then, I had no chance of seeing it. The afternoon was advancing, and, as a matter of fact, the fight lasted in all only a couple of hours altogether—chiefly a matter of artillery.

During the same evening, and part of the night, the rumbling of the heavy guns was audible. These had been actually dragged by bands of coolies across the hill-paths and tracks for two successive days and nights incessantly; and when these fellows, whose pay is infinitesimal, were regaled with little bags of rice and some fish rations, wrapped carefully in paper, they waited in the most disciplined manner patiently, until their turns came. Their dress was not uniform, but here again, I must say, the Japanese are wonderfully amenable to discipline in all services.

I had already made some observations about Port Arthur, and subsequently I was enabled to supplement them. The defences of the place were, and are now, doubtless, almost impossible to surmount. It is the "Gibraltar of the East." Around, and high above the harbour, which has a narrow and difficult entrance, are forts, on the mutual assistance principle of chained defence, on the hills from west to east on the northern shore there are, in all, thirteen forts of heavy guns, including the two near the shore. Again, at the west, is Huang-chin-shan, or Golden Hill, a fort which can sweep its guns in all directions. "Shan" is "hill," so Chi-huan-shan is Cock's-comb Hill, and I-tzee-shan, Chair Hill. The first three by the west (northern side at Chair Hill) are very important forts.

If we cross the strip of water at the mouth we reach the Tiger's Tail,—a piece of land, long and narrow, just opposite the West Port (the East Port is the dock-basin, or harbour, as contrasted with the ordinary harbour, West Port). On this Tail of the Tiger stand eight more forts, and all these twenty-two important defences were armed with large and quick-firing guns, perhaps more than three hundred in all, with an army behind them of twenty thousand Chinese nominally, but most likely many thousands less in fact, perhaps not more than twelve thousand or fifteen thousand effectives—if one may describe the Chinese as "effective."

The Japanese had one hundred cannon, and these were quietly placed in position during the evening and night of 20th November, on high ground. The forts to be assaulted were those by Chair Hill on the land side (north of harbour), and then those more eastward—Pine Hill, Dragon and Cock's-comb Hills. These forts were really the most important from the land side assault, and when we consider that the elevation of the land is great,—from 350 to 1500 feet, though, of course, less a great deal near the shore,—the difficulties of the assault can be imagined.

I awoke early, about midnight, and "dressed," which means wrapped myself up, and stepped out to listen to the tramping of the battalions, which were already taking up positions for the assault. As the morning advanced, the moon rose up, and shone clearly. The Japanese soldiers had no doubt of results, and the forts were to be attacked in a specified order, while a counter demonstration was threatened at the farther side.

It was impossible to rest, so I staggered to the limits of the camp in the darkness, the lanterns shining like fireflies as the troops advanced. They were all in readiness at two o'clock a.m., and just as dawn was due the artillery opened the attack, and awoke the slumbering Chinese in the town. If the men in the forts were asleep, they quickly arose, and replied in kind from all directions, and the flashing of the guns indicated the fearful fire which was being directed at the Japanese artillery, the camp, and the troops,—the last now just seen climbing up the hills, or crawling in the grass, to the attack, by ravines and slopes and gullies.

The roar was simply awful! The thunder was incessant. The shells came blazing across the sky, tore lines in the advancing troops, and ploughed the hillsides in all directions. This cannonade continued for quite an hour; it really seemed as if the fearful firing, noise, and thick smoke, would never cease around us. Daylight came, and then the Chinese played havoc with the assailants, who fell fast. But the Japanese guns were silencing the Chinese by degrees, and the men crept up to the forts, compelled to halt at times and take breath,—the last which many of them ever drew,—for the fire was fearful, and no command could be heard.

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."