Under the Ensign of the Rising Sun

Chapter Twenty.

THE BATTLE OF TSUSHIMA.

Meanwhile, what had become of the Japanese navy, after the battle of the Yellow Sea?

So far as the Yakumo was concerned, we were in the very thick of the fight when it was at its hottest, and when at length the battle came to an end with the flight of the Retvisan and Pobieda, we were one of the ships which had been so severely mauled that extensive repairs were necessary before we could undertake further service. Accordingly, we were ordered to proceed forthwith to Sasebo to refit; and since we were by no means alone in our plight, we had to await our turn. Hence it was the middle of January 1905 before the Yakumo was again ready for sea; and in the meantime I had ample opportunity to cement my friendship with the members of the Boyd family, who had acted the part of Good Samaritan to me when I first made acquaintance with Sasebo.

The day before the Yakumo left Sasebo for our rendezvous at the Elliot Islands, news arrived that the long talked-of Baltic Fleet had reached Madagascar and was at anchor in Passandava Bay, refitting, provisioning, and generally enjoying the hospitality of the French nation. This, of course, was not the first news that we had received of it; we had been duly apprised of its departure from Libau on 15th October and had also heard—with surprise on the part of the Japanese, and with bitter mortification and shame on my own part—of its subsequent unprovoked and unpunished attack upon the Gamecock fleet of British trawlers; but nobody was in the least disturbed by the news that this formidable fleet was at last actually at sea, for as a matter of fact we in Japan regarded its departure as nothing more than a move on the part of the Russian Government intended to encourage the garrison of Port Arthur to continue its resistance. For, to speak the plain truth, nobody seriously believed that the voyage would ever be continued far beyond the western extremity of the English Channel, for we could not see how it was going to be done. But now, when it was apparent that France was openly ignoring and outraging all the laws governing neutral nations, in favour of Russia, it behoved Japan to take serious notice of what was happening, and she not only protested vigorously against France’s violation of neutrality, but set to work in earnest to prepare for the new menace which was gradually creeping closer to her shores.

For a month after the arrival of the Yakumo at the Elliots, I and half of my crew formed a portion of that busy multitude who toiled in Port Arthur harbour to raise the sunken ships which cumbered it, and to clear the entrance channel; but on the 10th of February the naval contingent rejoined its ships, and on the 14th the Japanese battle fleet disappeared from human ken, and for three whole months was no more seen, save by a few who were made clearly to understand the vital necessity to remain absolutely silent.

Not so, however, the Japanese cruisers. It was our mission to generate a feeling of uneasiness and anxiety in the mind of Admiral Rojdestvensky and those of his officers and men; and with that object squadrons and single ships were directed to show themselves suddenly and mysteriously, and as suddenly to disappear again, in those waters through which the Russian fleet would have to pass on its voyage to Vladivostock. And we did this so effectually and with such excellent judgment that very soon the various telegraph cables grew hot with the number of messages transmitted through them, telling the most marvellous stories of enormous Japanese fleets seen in various parts of the world at the same moment, and of huge and incredibly strong fortifications erected on the Formosan coast and elsewhere.

“Bluffing” was not confined to our side, however; French newspapers were permitted to fall into our hands, in which the news was circumstantially set forth that, in consequence of the fall of Port Arthur, Admiral Rojdestvensky had been recalled, and that he was taking his entire fleet back to Europe by way of the Suez Canal—with the exception of four of his best battleships, which, it was hinted, had foundered at sea. On 20th March, however, reliable information reached Japan that the 1st and 2nd Divisions of Rojdestvensky’s fleet had left Madagascar on the 16th of the month, steering north-east. Two days later, news reached us that the Russian fleet had been sighted in the Indian Ocean, still steering north-east; and a week later the first of our scouts—a smart and fast steam yacht, flying German colours—apparently bound westward, passed within four miles of the armada, took careful count of it, and reported by wireless its exact position and the fact that it consisted of forty-three ships, seven of which were battleships, while of the rest, ten were cruisers and seven were destroyers.

From that moment our scouts, under every conceivable guise except that of warships, never for a moment lost touch with the Russians. We knew that they passed Singapore on 8th April; we knew that they touched at the Anamba Islands and coaled there before the Dutch warships could arrive to prevent them; and we knew that on 14th April the fleet arrived in Kamranh harbour, in French Indo-China, where, while awaiting the arrival of Admiral Nebogatoff’s squadron,—which was coming out via the Suez Canal,—the Russians proceeded to make good defects and generally prepare for the fight which they knew awaited them.

Of course the Japanese Government vigorously protested against this flagrant violation of the law regulating the conduct of neutrals, and France replied with polite assurances that such violation should not be repeated. This was followed by an order to the Russians to leave Kamranh harbour, which they obeyed at their leisure, moving on first to Port Dayot and then—when ordered from there in response to fresh Japanese protests—to Hon-koe Bay. Thus, with the connivance of the French authorities, a very pretty game of hide-and-seek was played by Rojdestvensky, until 8th May, when Nebogatoff joined with his nine craft, and the now completed fleet entered Hon-koe Bay and calmly proceeded to complete the task of refitting, coaling, and provisioning prior to its great attempt to force its way through to Vladivostock. As for the Japanese Government, it speedily recognised that France had quite made up its mind to ignore the laws of neutrality in favour of Russia, and accordingly ceased to lodge any further useless protests.

A week later—on 14th May, to be exact—the entire Russian fleet left Hon-koe Bay, steering northward; and although the French authorities suppressed the news of the departure for two whole days, Togo, who was now with his fleet in Chin-hai Bay, on the southern coast of Korea, received the news by wireless the same night. Thenceforward its progress was carefully watched and reported daily, so that at any moment Togo could put his finger upon the chart and indicate the position of the enemy, within a few miles.

Meanwhile, Togo was busily engaged in the preparation of his plans for the great battle toward which we had all been looking forward for so long. In this work he was of course hampered by his lack of knowledge as to the intentions of the Russians. There were two routes by which they could reach Vladivostock: one—much the shorter of the two—by way of Korea Strait and up through the Sea of Japan; and the other, via the east coast of Japan and La Perouse Strait. Also, should Rojdestvensky choose the shorter route, he could pass either to the east or to the west of Tsushima Island. Togo solved the problem by preparing a plan of battle for each of the three alternative routes.

On 26th May the Russian fleet was reported as being south-west of Quelpart Island, off the entrance of Korea Strait, and its position rendered it practically certain that it was Rojdestvensky’s intention to take the shorter route up through the Sea of Japan.

It was shortly before sunset, on 26th May, that the fateful wireless message—“Enemy in sight, fifty miles west of Torishima,”—came in from one of our scouting cruisers; and two minutes later a signal was flying from the Mikasa, summoning the Japanese admirals to a council of war.

The council was a brief one, lasting barely a quarter of an hour; then the admirals returned to their respective flagships, and the latter at once signalled the captains of the several squadrons to meet in the cabin of the admiral of that squadron. The Yakumo formed part of the armoured cruiser division, under the command of Admiral Kamimura, and accordingly it was in the cabin of the Idzumo that the six captains of that division presently assembled to receive our instructions.

These were concise enough, and of such a character as to indicate that Togo had given this long-expected battle a tremendous amount of consideration, and had finally settled all the details with almost mathematical precision. In the first place, for good and sufficient reasons, the battle was to be fought in the eastern strait, and, as nearly as possible, off the northern extremity of the island of Tsushima. To ensure this, the old Chin-yen, the Itsukushima, Matsushima, and Hashidate, of the protected cruiser squadron, accompanied by one division of destroyers, were to act the part of lures, approaching the Russian fleet on the following morning, as it neared the Straits, alternately attacking and retiring in the direction of the eastern strait, thus inveigling Rojdestvensky into a pursuit in that direction. The ships told off for this duty were to proceed to sea at once, as the Chin-