Under the Ensign of the Rising Sun

must certainly have resulted in disaster had not poor, unhappy Admiral Kamimura been morally chained down, and prevented from taking effective measures against the raiders, by a stringent order that he was to hold the Strait of Korea at all costs. Yet, such is human inconsistency, notwithstanding the above stringent order, which bound the unfortunate admiral hand and foot, and effectually precluded his pursuit of the raiding ships, he was so severely blamed by “the man in the street” for the damage done that a mob actually attacked and wrecked his house! This, of course, was most unjust and cruel treatment of a thoroughly capable and zealous man who, hampered though he was, did all he could to bring the raiders to book, and indeed, but for a sudden change of weather at a critical moment, would probably have brought them to action and given them a severe punishing.

Then, there was the abortive sortie of the Port Arthur fleet, three days after the destruction of the Kasanumi. True, the ships were only at sea for about twenty-four hours, and did nothing, narrowly escaping capture only by Togo’s over-eagerness to engage them, thus discovering himself to the Russians in time to allow the latter to make good their retreat back to Port Arthur; but, all the same, I felt that I was losing much in not being present. To me it seemed that our plucky little Admiral had missed a splendid chance over this last event; for we did the enemy no perceptible damage, and only succeeded in driving him back to his lair. As a matter of fact the only injury sustained by the Russians was that which happened to the battleship Sevastopol, which struck one of our mines as she was returning to Port Arthur anchorage, and was only got into the harbour with the utmost difficulty.

Chapter Seventeen. UNEXPECTED PROMOTION.

Among other naval customs which the Japanese had copied from the British, was that of trying by court martial all officers who were so unfortunate as to lose their ships; and on the day when I first received permission from the doctors to take a short turn in the open air, I also received an intimation that my trial for the loss of the Kasanumi would be held, a week from that date, on board the flagship Mikasa, which would then be in harbour.

Of course I was still very much of an invalid, for although the ghastly wound in my chest had so far healed that it no longer needed dressing, I was warned that even very trifling exertion might cause it to burst open again, while I had by no means recovered my former strength. Nevertheless, on the day appointed, I made shift to walk down to the beach, supported by the arm of an orderly, and, with the same assistance, to climb the flagship’s side ladder when I arrived alongside her in the steam launch which had been sent ashore to fetch me.

There is no need for me to describe at length the proceedings of a naval court martial; it has been admirably done by Captain Marryat; and as it was in his day, so it is to-day, in all essentials. Of course the trial was the merest formality, for there could not be the slightest shadow of doubt that the craft had been lost through collision with a mine, while under way in a dense fog, and that it was one of those incidents of war for which nobody but the enemy can be held responsible; and accordingly I was honourably acquitted, and my sword was returned to me amid the congratulations of the Admiral and the officers who had constituted the court.

Five days later I received a visit from Togo himself, who seemed to have conceived rather a liking for me. After making most friendly inquiries as to my health and the progress which I was making toward convalescence, he repeated his congratulations upon my acquittal by the court martial, and then asked me how much longer I thought it would be before I should again be fit for active service. I was happily able to assure him that, unless anything quite unforeseen happened, I hoped to be quite ready for duty in a fortnight, or even less if my services were urgently required, and I remember that I gave the answer with considerable eagerness, for there was a certain subtle something in the tone of the Admiral’s question which somehow suggested that events of importance were in the air.

“Good!” ejaculated Togo. “That is excellent news, my friend, for if what I hear be true, it would appear that the time is drawing near when I shall be in urgent need of all the assistance which my officers can give me. I will say no more at present—except that I hope you will take the utmost care of yourself, and get quite well again as quickly as possible—for at present my information is too vague to permit me to make a definite statement. Meanwhile,”—putting his hand into his breast pocket and producing a long, official-looking document—“it affords me the utmost pleasure to hand you this, which is your appointment to the command of the Yakumo. It has been my pleasant duty to mention your name in my dispatches, in connection with many services meritoriously rendered, the latest having reference to the very valuable assistance rendered by you prior to and during the battle of Nanshan; and this appointment is the outward token of the authorities’ appreciation of those services. I am looking forward with much interest to the moment when you will take up this new command, for, as you know, the Yakumo is a very fine ship, and under a smart and enterprising captain I shall expect great things of her.”

“And by Jove! sir, you shall not be disappointed if I can help it,” I exclaimed, springing to my feet in a paroxysm of delight and grasping the hand which the Admiral kindly extended to me. “I don’t know how to find words in which to express my profound gratitude to you, sir, for all your kindness to me, from the moment when I presented myself before you, an utter stranger,” I continued huskily; but Togo interrupted me, reaching up and patting my shoulder in a very kind, fatherly way.

“There, there,” he murmured, soothingly, “say no more about it, my dear boy; say no more about it. I want no wordy expressions of gratitude; you should know that by this time. And if you really feel grateful to me for anything I have done for you, you shall show your gratitude in deeds, rather than words, when the strenuous times arrive which I already see looming in the distance.”

And therewith, affording me no opportunity to reply, the fine little fellow, well named “the Nelson of Japan,” hastily shook me by the hand and effected his escape, while I sank into a chair, almost overwhelmed at the extent of my good fortune.

Captain of the Yakumo! I could scarcely credit it. As the Admiral had said, the Yakumo was a very fine ship; she was indeed one of the finest armoured cruisers which Japan at that time possessed. Her waterline was protected by a belt of Krupp steel seven inches thick amidships, tapering off to five inches thickness at bow and stern; she mounted four 8-inch quick-fire guns in her two turrets, and fourteen 6-inch guns on her broadsides; she could steam twenty-one knots, when clean; and she carried a crew of five hundred officers and men! A rather different craft from the little Kasanumi, with her single 12-pounder and five 6-pounders, eh? I felt that, in command of such a ship as that, I could dare and do almost anything. My delight must have proved an important factor in aiding my recovery, for from the moment when I received my appointment, my strength came back to me so rapidly that, instead of the fortnight which I had allowed myself in my conversation with the Admiral, I took only nine days to qualify for my discharge from the hospital, and to report for duty.

It was a proud moment for me when I stood on the spacious quarter-deck of my new command and, in the presence of all hands, mustered for the occasion, read my commission appointing me to the command of the ship. The vacancy had occurred in consequence of the death of her previous captain, and when I boarded the craft, I did so fully prepared for a certain coldness of reception on the part of the officers, for naturally, in the ordinary course of events, the command ought to have gone to the senior officer, one Commander Arisaka. But not so; on the contrary, as I finished reading my commission, folded it up, and put it in my pocket, the Commander approached, shook hands in the most friendly way, expressed the extreme gratification felt by himself and the rest of the officers of the ship at finding themselves under the leadership of one who—as they were kind enough to put it—“had so brilliantly distinguished himself”; and then proceeded to present to me the rest of the officers in rotation, in strict accordance with their rank, all of whom found something pleasant and complimentary to say. By way of response, I made a little speech to all hands, crew as well as officers, in which I expressed my gratification at finding myself in command of so fine a ship, manned by so fine a crew, and voiced the hope that, not only should we be able to all work comfortably and harmoniously together, but also that the Admiral would speedily afford us an opportunity to add fresh laurels to the Yakumo’s fame; a speech which elicited a quite enthusiastic storm of “Banzais.”

Agreeable relations with my officers and crew being thus satisfactorily established, I took up my quarters onboard, and forthwith proceeded to “learn” the ship—that is to say, I made myself intimately acquainted with the