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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

By this time in the history of the war, it seemed certain that in such a conflict as was to be anticipated, China would not entrust the ultimate defense of the empire to such loose levies as had been in the field. From the time of their organization, these troops under arms have constituted a danger to the peace of China, whether in victory or defeat, and perhaps there was a certain cynical calculation in the release by the Japanese of prisoners, that they might swell the ranks of brigands. It was believed by many friends of China that the dispersion of these troops would make room for an army built up on a different system, should the government be at last aroused to a sense of the necessity for military reform.

Until this time, the government of China properly so called, had not been able to bring its intelligence to bear on the question of imperial defense. That had been left in the hands of the imperial viceroy Li Hung Chang, who has for many years conducted the foreign as well as the naval and military affairs of the empire. But during the fall the Peking government was gradually gathering the reins into its own hands. The return of Prince Kung to the counsels of the emperor was a marked expression of the new resolution. The summoning of Von Hannecken by imperial edict to Peking was another indication of the suspension of Li Hung Chang’s function of general middleman between the empire and the world. Whether this new born energy for affairs was to have staying power sufficient to launch the government on the unknown sea of foreign science, and save the empire from disruption was problematical, but the war still raged on, and out of its immediate issues, it was predicted by many, was to arise a state of thing which would mock the slow progress of mere evolutionary reform, by a cataclysm which might do in one day what a century of deliberation could not accomplish.

Landing of the Second Japanese Army at Kwa-yuen-ken—Capture of Kinchow—Taking of Talien-wan—Flight of the Chinese to Port Arthur—General Nodzu’s Force and its Action—Pekin Authorities Despondent—Prince Kung Asks Foreign Intervention—Propositions for Peace Fail—Contractors Want to Destroy Japanese Fleet—Foreigners in Chinese Service—The Emperor Receives Visitors—Drawing Near to Port Arthur—People of the Peninsula—Skirmishes on the Way—The Night Before the Battle.

The troops of the second Japanese army landed at a place called Kwa-yuen-ken near the mouth of the Pili River, northeast of Talien-wan Bay. From the mouth of the Pili to Kinchow, the principal town in the peninsula, the distance is fifty-four miles. The debarkation was completed without interruption, and the march southwestward began. The capture of Kinchow, at the narrowest point in the Adams Isthmus, was made without difficulty, and the victorious forces continued on their way. November 7 the Japanese occupied Talien-wan. The more the captured Chinese position here was examined, the greater became the astonishment at the poor defense made. The defensive works were excellent in design. Six large and strongly constructed forts commanded Talien-wan bay, mounting all together eighty guns of various sizes and patterns. Many of them were comparatively modern and excellent of their kind. All of these guns, as well as large stores of ammunition, fell into the hands of the Japanese.

Beside the forts on the bay, the Chinese had constructed across the narrow neck of the peninsula, which was here about seven miles wide, a series of earthworks of an elaborate kind. The whole system had evidently been planned by an engineer of high skill. It was completely fitted with telephones and other modern appliances for communication. The works had been designed to facilitate a concentration of troops at any threatened point in the shortest possible time. The batteries were powerfully constructed and well armed. The greatest strength of the forts on the bay was on the side facing the sea. Some successful reconnoitering revealed weakness upon the land side. An intimation was conveyed to Count Ito that the seaward forts were of such strength that a bombardment from the Japanese fleet would assuredly result in serious damage to some of the ships. Marshal Oyama informed his colleague that he believed a land attack would be attended with success, and that idea was therefore put into effect.

The Japanese fleet took a station off the bay, and opened a tremendous bombardment of the forts on the 6th of November. For many hours the firing scarcely ceased, and on the following day it was resumed. On the 7th, covered by the bombardment, the land force attacked Talien-wan at daybreak by a general assault, and the success was complete. The Chinese, taken by surprise, fled panic-stricken towards Port Arthur.

The losses in the capture of these two fortifications, Kinchow and Talien-wan, were not great on either side. The Chinese garrison at the former place consisted of one thousand infantry and one hundred cavalry. They fled to Talien-wan, which was defended by three thousand infantry and one hundred and eighty cavalry, and all together retreated thence towards Port Arthur. On the Japanese side the losses were only ten killed and wounded, and the losses of the Chinese, who offered practically no resistance, were not much greater. As in previous retreats, the Chinese threw away their arms in their flight, and reached Port Arthur with nothing but the clothes they wore.

During these days of action by the force under Oyama, General Nodzu’s troops had not been idle. Immediately after the capture of Chiu-lien, the Japanese headquarters’ staff moved there from Wi-ju. Two columns were sent after the fleeing Chinese. Colonel Sato moved upon An-tung, which was taken without fighting. General Tachimi, with the first division, moved upon Feng-hwang on October 27, and on the 31st the town surrendered. No prisoners were taken by the Japanese. The orders were to disarm and scatter the enemy wherever found, and this was done with vigor. By Marshal Yamagata’s orders, the peaceable inhabitants were treated with the utmost consideration. All food purchased was paid for and laborers were paid for any extra help required. As a result the Japanese camp was thronged with Chinese peasants offering produce, and more Chinese laborers asked for work than could be engaged.

The enemy divided in flight from Feng-hwang, some going to Mukden, others to Hai-tcheng, and others to Taku-shan. Most of the generals fled to Mukden. As the last fugitives left Feng-hwang it was set on fire, and the flames wrecked the village before the Japanese could extinguish them. Cold had set in among the Manchoorian hills by this time and some snow had fallen. The victorious army therefore took pains to make itself as comfortable as possible, advancing slowly, living off the country, and driving all enemies before it.

In Peking at this time the authorities were busy attempting to devise means of safety for their armies, and to provide for their own escape from threatening danger. Li Hung Chang was deprived of all his decorative honors. Liu Kunyi, viceroy of Nanking, was made viceroy of Tien-tsin. Chang Chi Stung, viceroy of Wu-chang, was appointed viceroy of Nanking. Hu Yuff, a judge of Kwang-hsi, and Captain Von Hannecken were ordered to enlist and equip a force of troops after the German model, as the nucleus of a new grand army of China. Finally Prince Kung was appointed Chief Controller of Military Affairs, with Prince Chung to assist him, thus further centralizing the power.

Another imperial edict gave executive effect to the sentence passed by the military courts upon General Wei. It declared that by his withdrawal from the battle of Ping-Yang he caused the defeat of the entire army. Furthermore, he was adjudged guilty of embezzling public funds entrusted to him for the specific purpose of paying his soldiers, and of gross incompetence and violation of duty in that he permitted the troops with whom he retreated to maltreat and rob the people along the line of route, thereby lowering the national character. For these offenses General Wei was degraded from military rank and deprived of all his honors. It was also announced that Admiral Ting kept from the knowledge of the throne many important matters connected with the naval battle of the Yalu, and that while losing some ships and getting others crippled he inflicted scarcely any damage upon the enemy. The admiral was therefore deprived of all the honors recently bestowed upon him under a misapprehension of the facts.

How despondent was the view of the situation held by the Chinese authorities may be judged by the first action taken by Prince Kung after his promotion. On Sunday, November 4, before the news of the Japanese success at Talien-wan had reached the Chinese, owing to the cutting of the telegraph wires, he invited the representatives all the powers to assemble at the Tsung-li Yamen to hear what the Chinese government had to say respecting the critical situation. At this audience Prince Kung calmly avowed the complete impotence of his country to withstand the Japanese attack, and appealed to the powers to intervene. He made an appeal for their assistance in bringing about some agreement for the termination of the war, indicating as a basis of negotiation a willingness of China to abandon her claim to the suzerainty of Corea, and to pay a war indemnity to Japan. This appeal was made formally and officially, and marked for the first time the fact that China recognized her utter defeat.

Having concluded his speech, Prince Kung handed to each minister a note embodying his remarks. The ministers were favorably impressed, and they applauded the frankness of China’s confession. They promised to support her appeal to their respective governments, with a view to the restoration of peace, and in order to avert the dangers threatening all interested. Simultaneously with this action of Prince Kung, the Chinese minister to Great Britain and France endeavored to enlist the assistance of the foreign offices of those countries, but again the effort to secure peace for China by the intervention of western nations met with little encouragement.

A diplomatic complication arose between Japan and France early in November which had an element of comedy in it and is of interest here. Two American citizens, John Brown and George Howie, of British extraction, offered their services to the Chinese government in the capacity of torpedo experts. They claimed to be in possession of an invention capable of most destructive effects in naval warfare, and having succeeded in convincing a Chinese agent of the validity of their claim, they were engaged to employ the invention against the Japanese navy, in consideration of a payment of $100,000 down, $1,000,000 for each naval squadron destroyed, and a proportion of the value of each merchantman sent to the bottom. With their contract in their pocket, they sailed from San Francisco, and at Yokahama transferred themselves to the French steamer Sydney. Meanwhile the Japanese authorities, having obtained intelligence of the two men’s proceedings, telegraphed instructions to Kobe, and in that port the alleged inventors were taken off the ship, together with their Chinese companions. The French minister inclined to push the case in their favor, but diplomacy and international law was so clearly on the side of the Japanese that he withdrew his efforts. After their arrest however, the two men signed a stringent guarantee binding themselves not to assist the Chinese during the present war, and this with the representation of the American minister secured their release.

The Japanese forces occupying Talien-wan used their time to advantage in strengthening their positions, completing the telegraph line along the north shore of Corea Bay, to a junction with the line which had already been built across the Yalu River from Corea, and in preparing for their investment of Port Arthur. Admiral Ito’s sailors and marines destroyed all the torpedoes placed by the enemy in the bay and its approaches. They also captured several torpedo boats and apparatus. The fleet and the transports all entered the bay, and there remained to act in harmony with the land forces. A few days after the occupation of Talien-wan, the advance column of the first Japanese army, pursuing from Feng-hwang that portion of the divided fugitive Chinese who were seeking Port Arthur, met the outposts of the second invading army, and communication was thereby established, both by telegraph and by messenger service, through Japanese garrisons, in a chain extending the full length of the Corean peninsula and around Corea Bay to Talien-wan.

Consternation was caused in Peking by the discovery, which one would have supposed not difficult, that the Pei-yang squadron was caught in a trap at Port Arthur. Li Hung Chang had made efforts to bring all the damaged war ships out of that harbor, ordering the squadron to keep within range of the guns of Wei-hai-wei. But on account of somebody’s violation of orders, a dozen Chinese vessels of war were now within the Port Arthur harbor, hemmed in by the neighboring Japanese fleet. The responsible Chinese officials appeared to be callous to the fate of the empire, giving their chief attention to matters of personal interest and gain.

Port Arthur was now effectively invested and threatened, and to provide for their personal safety, Kung, the taotai of the place, together with several military leaders, abandoned Port Arthur as hastily as possible. The effort made by one Englishman, anxious to preserve some Chinese dignity, to save Port Arthur, was received with considerable surprise and not by any means appreciated.

The position of foreigners in the employ of the Chinese government has always been anomalous, but the exigencies of the war have shown up the relationship between Chinese and foreigners in a vivid and highly instructive light. Their rooted aversion to foreigners, which springs from fear, does not withhold the Chinese from flying to seek foreign aid in their extremity. On these occasions they betray a superstitious feeling towards the foreigners, regarding him as a sort of medicine man who can see through a millstone or work any other miracle. Their idea is to hire him by the job, and when the job is done cast him off as any other laborer. When war came upon them, the Chinese fleet was in a quandary, scuttling about from one snug harbor to another, the officers knowing nothing of their enemy, his movements, or his capacities. Though they were told they had the strongest fleet, they would have preferred not to put its presumed superiority to too severe a test, yet they had the imperial order to destroy the enemy unconditionally. In this extremity, the authorities cast about for extemporized foreigners to help them.

A hardy Scandinavian came first to the rescue, offering to scout, pilot, or fight for them, run a torpedo boat, or do anything that youthful daring might legitimately venture. Only he stipulated for a twenty-knot steamer, performing, however, in the meantime, the emergency service in a common tugboat of less than half that speed. The promise of a fast steamer was broken, as every promise of every Chinese official, with few exceptions, from the beginning of time has been broken, and until the end of the war the hardy Norseman had to content himself on the deck of that same wet and lively tugboat. Comical indeed were the adventures he had with his convoys of troops, munitions, and stores, which never would follow the program laid down for them, sometimes bolting from the smoke of their own escort, andand he chasing them back into their own ports whose forts would open fire on him. This was the uniform experience of Europeans who served the Chinese. The zeal and loyalty were all on the side of the aliens, whose hearts were broken in hopeless efforts to make the Chinese do their duty to their own country. Every foreigner who served China, no matter in what capacity, unless he belonged to the class which is content to draw pay and say nothing, had the same strenuous battle with his employers to compel them to interest themselves in their own service. The Chinese, on their part, failed to comprehend the folly of the foreigner who was not content to draw his pay and keep quiet.

At Port Arthur there were some half dozen rival generals, but no one in command, each caring only for his own camp, and all at loggerheads with the others. The head of the port, the poor taotai, of the literary graduate order, was a brother of the present minister to England. There was also the admiral of the Pei-yang squadron, the most likely man to assume the responsibility of a general command; but for fear of getting himself disliked by Taotai Kung or the generals, he kept his hands out of mischief. Finally, the English harbor master at Port Arthur went to Tien-tsin, and showed the condition of affairs to the viceroy. The result was that the viceroy sent instructions to Kung, which the latter ignored, flying from Port Arthur at the first chance. The collapse of Chinese resistance was proceeding at a rate which more than astonished the Japanese themselves. With Kinchow and Talien-wan captured almost without a blow, although amply supplied with the means of making a vigorous and protracted defense, and all the soldiers joining in an ignominious rush for Port Arthur, it seemed that the Chinese were exhibiting all that reluctance to make trouble which characterized Crockett’s famous 'coon, demonstrating their willingness to come down to any required extent if Marshal Oyama would only consent not to shoot.

The force under Yamagata, advancing from Feng-hwang in two divisions, one towards Port Arthur and one on the road to Mukden, met no resistance that was strong enough to intercept their advance, although there was some fighting at two or three stands. The right division advanced northwestward and entered the Manchoorian highlands by the Mo-thien-ling pass where a force was gathered to oppose it. The left division marched towards Siu-Yen where another Chinese force was encamped. It was the outpost of this division, pursuing the Chinese fugitives through Taku-shan, which made junction with the second army and completed the chain of communication.

On the 9th of November the Japanese advanced and attacked Namquan pass, a strongly fortified neck between Society Bay and Talien-wan. There was no concerted defense, and each Chinese detachment was separately routed. Some thousands of refugees from Kinchow, who were flying towards villages in the vicinity, were mistaken for the enemy and were fired upon from the rear of the defenses, many being killed.

Again the Chinese authorities in Peking decided to seek peace through the influence and intervention of western powers between herself and Japan. On the morning of November 15 the emperor gave an audience to the diplomatic representatives in Peking, and all the ministers were present. His Majesty’s action in thus receiving the diplomatists caused considerable stir in high Chinese circles, such a violation was it of imperial Chinese etiquette. This audience was granted on the occasion of the presentation of letters of congratulation by the ministers, on the sixtieth birthday of the dowager empress. For the first time in Chinese history the audience was held in the imperial palace itself. As an especial mark of courtesy the foreign ministers entered by the central gate, the gate through which the emperor only is usually allowed to pass.

The ministers had audience with the emperor separately, and the reception was of a distinctly formal character, lasting but a few minutes. The audience took place in the hall where His Majesty was accustomed to hear the Confucian classics expounded. He was seated cross-legged on the Dragon Throne, surrounded by a numerous body of princes and officials. In front of His Majesty was placed a small table covered with yellow satin, which concealed the lower half of his person. In the short interviews with each minister, who stood some ten feet from His Majesty, Prince Kung and Prince Ching acted alternately as masters of the ceremonies, and interpreted the speeches. The emperor spoke entirely in the Manchoo tongue. He appeared small and delicate, possessing a fine forehead, with expressive brown eyes, and an intellectual countenance. The emperor’s position, surrounded as he was by the dignitaries of his court, gave him an imposing appearance, although to a close observer he looked and spoke like a lad of sixteen or seventeen years. His Majesty did not indulge in any social conversation with the visitors, but spoke formally to all. The interview was granted in the hope that western sympathy would be secured for the threatened orientals.

Now that the approach to Port Arthur has brought the Japanese army almost to the walls, let us take a brief retrospect of the operations of the month. On the 24th of October the debarkation of the second army on the Liao-Tung peninsula began, to the northwest of the Elliot islands, at Kwa-yuen. No opposition of any kind was encountered, but natural difficulties such as shallow beaches and great range of tides impeded the operation, so that all the stores were not landed until the evening of the 30th. The troops however were put in motion at once, and on October 28th the advance guard reached Pitszwo, a place of some importance at the junction of the Niuchwang, Port Arthur, and Taku-shan road. This place was twenty-five miles from the port of debarkation. Forty-five miles farther southwest, the troops came upon Kinchow, at the point where the two post roads of the peninsula met. On November 6 the Japanese captured this town without difficulty, and the next day Field Marshal Oyama’s troops, pressing close on the heels of the flying enemy, reached the formidable isthmus a couple of hours after them, and to the accompaniment of a thunderous bombardment from the fleet, seized the defenses without a struggle. After such a singular display of blundering and cowardice on the part of the Chinese, what followed was not astonishing. The troops passing the isthmus, found themselves on the shore of Talien-wan Bay, one of the best harbors in North China. Ample preparations for defense had indeed been made, but they were not utilized by the cowardly soldiers. The Japanese themselves were taken by surprise. They had not contemplated such a fiasco.

Meanwhile the army had continued its march towards Port Arthur. Their line of communication to the rear, both by land and sea, was perfect. The commissariat was in the best condition for service. The hospital corps was active and modern in its manner of work. Nurses of the Red Cross Society, both men and women, accompanied the army and were provided with everything in the power of the commander to grant, being shown every courtesy. On the other hand, efforts made by hospital corps to reach the Chinese wounded from the Chinese side of the lines, met with utter failure. Two Red Cross nurses were turned back by the Chinese authorities at Tien-tsin, they declining to be responsible for the safety of non-combatants. The Taotai Sheng said, “We do not want to save our wounded. A Chinaman cheerfully accepts the fates that befall him.”

More than a fortnight had Marshal Oyama’s army been marching in two divisions, eastern and western, down the peninsula to Port Arthur. The distance was less than fifty miles, but the country was a difficult one, there being practically no roads available except in the cultivated valleys. As the army approached the objective point, there were occasional brushes with the enemy. At Ye-jo-shu on November 18, the army was more than half way from Kinchow to Port Arthur, and almost within sight of the goal. The next day’s march was expected to bring the forces to camp on the safe side of the hills, within an hour’s ride of Port Arthur, unless the Chinese should prevent. The next day was to be devoted to rest and to making sure that everything was properly arranged and ready for the fray; and it was confidently asserted that on the evening of the day after, November 21, the Japanese army would sleep peacefully in Port Arthur with Dragon Flags for bed quilts.

On the morning of the 18th the Chinese made a reconnoissance in force, but retired without discovering much except a Japanese scouting party, which had a narrow escape. The army was moving along steadily with General Nishi leading the vanguard, General Yamaji, his staff, and the war correspondents all with the main body, and General Nogi bringing up the rear. The field marshal and his staff were also behind, and General Hasegawa was on the left wing, with his forces practically covering the country down to the south coast. In front and on the right as far as the not very distant north coast, small bodies of cavalry and infantry were thrown out along the valleys. The country was magnificent for defensive purposes, studded with moderately steep hills, ranging from low undulations up to huge crags two thousand feet high, with hundreds of rocky ravines and gulleys; broad fertile valleys never very level, intersected by winding water courses, like a labyrinth, almost dry at this season.

Every two or three miles there were small villages roughly built of stone, nestling in hollows, with a few trees here and there. In and about the villages scores of natives crowded, curious to see the foreigners they feared; on the hilltops were the more timorous ones, watching awhile and then hurrying away perhaps to tell the Chinese army what they had seen, but no attempt was ever made to stop them, except occasionally to ask a question or two. The road was the military road connecting Port Arthur with Kinchow, Niuchwang and Peking. There was not the least sign of anything having been done to keep it in repair since it was first cut a quarter of a century ago, the soft parts were deep rutted, and would be well-nigh impassable after heavy rain, while the rocky parts were jagged and strewn with stones of all sizes and shapes. Over the plains dust drove in black clouds which enveloped the column, suggesting the great dust storms of North China. There was bright sunny weather, but the nights were cold during the march down the peninsula.

The day’s march which had begun at seven in the morning, was to end at Ye-jo-shu, a big village near the sea, about ten miles northeast of Port Arthur. Before entering the village General Yamaji was met by an aid-de-camp with news of fighting ahead, half way to Port Arthur. After a little hesitation the general granted the request of two of the correspondents to permit them to go forward, and they galloped off to the left in a southwesterly direction. Five miles away, among the hilltops, they caught a glimpse of a small, square, stone building, like a fort or watchtower, and all around it could be discerned figures moving amidst clouds of smoke. The road was lined many yards on either side with men and animals, all racing in the same direction, spurting to be first at a ford or a narrow defile, urging and helping each other, and only afraid the enemy might retire too soon.