AN INCIDENT OF THE CHINO-JAPANESE WAR.
BY AN AMERICAN NAVAL OFFICER.
here exists no more disagreeable place for a winter's anchorage than the so-called harbor of Che-foo, China, just north of the Shan-tung Promontory, in the Yellow Sea. During the winter of 1895-6 a powerful fleet of some twenty war-vessels, representing the flags of seven nationalities, was there gathered together. The Chino-Japanese war was then in progress, and the active operations of the Japanese, in the investment of Wei-hai-wei, had been going on for some time. From Wei-hai-wei, Che-foo was distant about thirty-five miles, and this latter port, having been one of those originally opened by treaty, had acquired importance as a commercial centre for the north of China. In the immediate vicinity of this place, and for miles in the interior, were scattered hundreds of missionaries of different sects and nationalities, the Americans forming a large majority.
To guard the interests of foreigners in general, and incidentally to take advantage of such lessons as were to be learned from the war then in progress, the several nations had assembled in the East as many vessels as should best serve the interests involved.
Probably a combination of finer war-vessels, representing all types, has seldom been seen than the international fleet of that winter. An agreement had been entered into by the commanders-in-chief representing Great Britain, Russia, France, Germany, and the United States, for the protection of citizens. The best of feeling existed among the officers and men, and all hands were keenly alert for such service that might be required.
The trials of that winter were numerous; the weather was inclement, provisions were scarce, and recreation!—there was none. Gale followed gale with great frequency. Storm-tossed, the vessels rode at their moorings with steam up, rigging and decks covered with snow, sides and pipes covered with ice. Communication with the shore, except by signal, was shut off for days at a time, and with these conditions obtaining, the life on shipboard was not all that could be desired. The ice made out from shore for nearly two miles, and some attempts to land proved disastrous to the boats, with corresponding discomforts for the crews.
Occasionally the monotony for those on the Charleston and Yorktown was varied by being sent on hazardous trips to rescue missionaries, or to watch the operations of the belligerents off Wei-hai-wei. For those on the flag-ship, however, there was no such good fortune. We held the end of the cable, directing the movements of the vessels of the squadron, informing the Department of the progress of events, and keeping a watchful eye over the small body of troops that had been landed to prevent anticipated disorders among the Chinese, being also prepared to throw ashore at any moment a large body of re-enforcements.
Watching had become wearisome, and many were the longings for the end to come that a temporary respite might be ours. The doom of Wei-hai-wei was sealed. Count Oyama with his perfectly appointed army, manœuvred with a master's hand, had captured the forts on the east and west sides; the sledge-hammer blows struck by the ships of Admiral Ito had resulted in mortal wounds, so that all that remained of the once magnificent stronghold of Wei-hai-wei were the islands of Leu-kung, behind which the remnant of the once vaunted Chinese fleet had sought refuge, and Channel Island, with its still powerfully offensive battery.
The Chinese battle-ships Ting-Yuen and Chen-Yuen remained sullenly defiant—a menace to the Japanese. It was not, therefore, the policy of Admiral Ito to bring his lighter vessels within too close quarters of solid fortifications and ironclads. The Chinese could not escape; why, then, risk the lighter ships when a little patient waiting would produce the desired result? The dashing torpedo-boat attacks of the Japanese on the nights of February 4th and 5th had brought havoc and destruction to the Chinese fleet, sinking four of their ships, and giving the much-overwrought nerves of the Celestials a bad shaking up.
Information came to the American commander-in-chief that it was probably the intention of Admiral Ito to finish the work on February 7th.
In that latitude at that season of the year day is late in breaking, but the date in question proved to be an ideal winter's day. Not even a gentle breeze was blowing; the air was clear, crisp, and cold, with the thermometer at 6° Fah., while the bay showed no movement of the closely packed cakes of floating ice.
The harbor of Che-foo is such in name only; it consists of a small indentation in the coast, with two small islands, on one of which is the light-house, about four miles from shore; to the northward the anchorage is limited by a narrow neck of land that rises to a bluff, the latter facing the sea. Beyond the bluff and outside the harbor limits is a half-moon bay, which on this occasion was filled with ice extending out about two miles, and closely packed by the recent gales.
Shortly after eight o'clock on the morning of February 7th, from the direction of Wei-hai-wei came the reverberations of heavy cannonading, and the decks of the vessels at the Che-foo anchorage were soon peopled with officers and men impatiently awaiting developments.
Within an hour unusual activity was observed among the Chinese soldiers in the fort of Che-foo, and it was noted that the heavy Krupp guns had been given extreme elevation.
Far to the southward appeared a speck on the water, and with glasses it was soon made out to be a torpedo-boat under full steam coming toward the port of Che-foo. It was seen that the boat was trimmed by the stern, all the crew being on deck aft, the better to immerse the screw. From the stream of smoke that piled from the pipe it was evident that the little craft was being urged to its utmost speed. Owing to the fact that the torpedo-boats of both belligerents were painted a neutral color, it was not easy to decide upon the nationality of the stranger, for naturally no flag was displayed. Following at a distance of about half a mile came a second boat, but as no firing was going on, it was concluded they were friends. The mystery was soon explained by the appearance, further out at sea, of two Japanese cruisers—the Yoshino, the speediest and handsomest ship of their navy, and the Tachachiho, the prototype of our Charleston. It could be seen that they were in pursuit of the two torpedo-boats. Their sharp prows were cutting the water like knives, and through the glass the officers and crew could be observed anxiously watching the chase.
There is something in a race, be it great or small, that stirs the blood of every man, and when the race is one for life and liberty the interest becomes more intense, particularly if the observer's safety is not involved.
The scene was one never to be forgotten. The day was all that could be desired for speeding a torpedo-boat; not a ripple to mar progress; outside the islands the sea was clear of ice, while the cold crisp air was most favorable for the draught.
With the approach of the vessels grew the excitement of the observers; the cold was forgotten, gloves and coats were thrown aside, and officers and men mounted the icy rigging the better to view the chase. Those that were fortunate enough to possess glasses reported incidents that could not be seen by the less fortunate. Admiral and staff, officers and men, elbowed one another, forgetful of all but the excitement of the moment. Each little gain or loss was carefully noted, and brought forth breathless remarks from the interested spectators. Some of the crew, more sharp-sighted than the others, reported the progress of the race, and as the cruisers closed more and more upon the torpedo-boats the excitement grew intense. "Now the big ones gaining!" "No, the little one's holding her own!" etc. Gruff observations of this sort were heard on every side.
The little torpedo-boats were game, and fought on manfully, one might say, foot by foot.
From the pipes of pursuer and pursued poured forth columns of smoke that trailed behind like dense black streamers, seemingly to portend the tragedy that was to follow; while, as if by contrast, the water parted by the rapidly speeding vessels broke in waves that glistened and scintillated in the sunlight in spectacular magnificence.
It was estimated that the Yoshino was making nineteen knots and over, and it was evident that a heavy forced draught was being carried. The first torpedo-boat was holding its own, or doing a trifle better, but the second and smaller of the two was slowly but surely losing distance.
One was strangely reminded of the coursing of hares by large and powerful hounds, only in this case the lives of human beings were involved, and the chances for the torpedo-boats, if caught, were about equal to those of the hares under like conditions. Whatever may have been the unofficial sympathies of the on-lookers in regard to the war then going on, it seemed to be the universal wish that "the little fellows" might escape.
For a moment, off the harbor, the course of the leading boat deviated, as if to take refuge behind the shipping. That moment was the signal for unusual activity for the vessels at anchor; capstans were started and preparations made for a hurried departure, for had the Chinese boats entered they would have been followed by the cruisers, and it would have required lively work on the part of the neutrals to get out of range.
THE RACE WAS OVER.
The Chinese Lieutenant who commanded the torpedo-boat evidently concluded not to be a disturbing element to the fleet at anchor; the course was renewed, and, rounding the bluff, an attempt was made to reach the shore by ramming the ice. The floe was found to be too heavy for the light craft, so, skirting the edge of the ice, the boat stranded in shoal water; the occupants made a hurried exit and took to the woods. The second boat likewise tried the ice, but finding that no impression could be made thereon, sought to escape, as its principal had done, by skirting the pack until shoal water could be reached. But there was no time; the Yoshino was too close, and that powerful vessel ploughed through the ice at a tremendous rate of speed. When the nearest point to the runaway was reached, we heard the ugly quick bark of the Yoshino's three-pounders, and the race was over. With a mighty roar the safety-valves of the big cruiser were lifted, and for security the vessel headed seaward. There was no time to lower boats; the water was intensely cold, and it was never learned that any of the crew of the riddled boat escaped. The guns of the Yoshino sang the only requiem over the watery graves of those that went down with their ship.
The stranded boat was hauled off the next day by boats from the Tachachiho, and was taken to the Japanese navy-yard at Yekesuka. Several months later this trophy of the war was shown to the writer by a Japanese naval officer, the latter little suspecting that his visitor had witnessed the interesting episode of its capture on that eventful winter's morning in the Yellow Sea.
The great development of various kinds of athletics within recent years has been to the detriment of certain kinds of sport that men and boys ten years ago or more used to devote more time to. Nowadays there are so many who wish to go into athletics that the popular games are those in which the greatest number of contestants may take part. It is probably for this reason that we see so much attention given to track athletics, even as a winter in-door sport, to the subordination of almost all other games.
FIG. 1.—TRYING FOR A HOLD.
Before these events became popular American men and boys, as English men and boys had done for years before them, especially those who lived in the country, used to devote more of their time to the simpler branches of sport, one of which is wrestling. But as only two men may take part in one wrestling bout, while the rest must stand around and look on, this sport has more or less fallen from popularity. Nevertheless, like boxing, it is one of the best kinds of exercises, and will do more toward building up a strong constitution and developing a deep chest, broad shoulders, and strong arms, than any other kind of exercise.
Wrestling is one of the oldest sports of the world, and doubtless came into being as early as foot-racing. It is probably because of its age, simplicity of equipment, and natural use of strength that it has failed to receive the consideration given to other and more elaborate games of skill. Fortunately, however, there has always been a number of enthusiasts the world over who have kept awake the interest in wrestling, and by their enthusiasm have steadily advanced its standard of skill.
It is very probable that if wrestling had required intricate machinery for its expansion and a broad outlay of paraphernalia it would long since have become as generally popular as those games which hold places of favor to-day. In America there are three distinctive styles of wrestling—Catch-as-catch-can, Græco-Roman, and Collar-and-elbow. There seems to be no doubt that catch-as-catch-can is the style that has to-day reached the highest development. It certainly is second to none as a means of exercise, and is superior to most as a means of defence.
In the first place, it is the most natural style of wrestling and of using one's strength, because it allows of any hold, and the contestants are at liberty to exercise all means at their power, as the name indicates, to bring down the opponent—methods that a man must adopt when the struggle is in earnest. Abroad, I believe, no hold lower than the waist is permitted, but here in amateur contests one may catch wherever he can, the only restrictions being what are technically known as the full nelson and the strangle hold. To the average man who has taken up the sport of wrestling, the idea of developing his body has been the first, the idea of using his skill for personal defence is naturally secondary. But, as a matter of fact, wrestling is one of the best of the defensive arts, and has proved serviceable in a number of critical occasions.
FIG. 2.—ON HANDS AND KNEES.—A SAFE POSITION.
In cases of emergency, speaking now of self-defence, a number of holds which would not be considered proper in sport may very well be used to protect one against an attack. And especially if a knowledge of wrestling is added to a slight familiarity with boxing, the combination of the two arts makes a man a very formidable opponent. It should always be remembered by those who go into the development of these athletic arts that whenever it becomes necessary to use them in self-defence the style will be found to be very different on the highway from what it is in the gymnasium.
No matter how good a boxer a man may be, if it ever becomes necessary for him to defend himself with his fists, the boxing will soon degenerate into a rough-and-tumble fight; and here is where the science of wrestling becomes most important. But all this is merely incidental to the benefits of exercise to be derived from the sport, and I have only mentioned these possibilities to show that there is an advantage to be gained beyond the mere increase of muscle and agility.
As an exercise, as a tissue-making, blood-stirring sport, there is nothing in-doors to equal wrestling. It stretches every muscle, it expands the chest, strengthens the legs and arms, and gives coolness, determination, and quickness. The qualities necessary in football, those qualities which make the game such an excellent developer of the human body, are the same essentials to the successful wrestler. Furthermore, there is no game of skill to which the adage that "practice makes perfect" may more justly be applied than to wrestling.
FIG. 3.—TRYING FOR FARTHER ARM AND NEAR LEG.
Any one who has not had practical experience in the matter can have no idea of the immense advantage that trained skill has over mere brute strength. Of course one cannot expect any man or boy, be he ever so skilful, to put on his back an opponent weighing a hundred pounds more than himself, yet it is surprising to see what weight and strength may be defeated by skill and quickness. To become an expert, one ought to begin to learn the elements of wrestling at an early age, say at sixteen or seventeen, and it is important to have a well-trained, careful instructor.
Wrestling is by no means an easy game, and a great deal of harm may be done to growing boys if their work is not supervised by a teacher who combines with his technical instruction an intelligent appreciation of his pupil's physique. On the other hand, no exercise, when carefully conducted, is better calculated to build up and fill out a frail physical structure. It is not well, after one has learned the rudiments of this sport, to wrestle always with the same man, for this will surely limit the novice's range of action.
Two men, too, who wrestle continually with each other become so familiar with their capabilities that they derive little advantage from the practice, since the secret of success in wrestling is to keep the opponent busy wondering what you are going to do next, and to deceive him as to your own intentions as much as possible. This of course is impossible when every move of your opponent's body has become familiar to you by months of practice with him. Many advise beginners to drop on all-fours at the earliest possible opportunity in a wrestling-match, but I do not believe that this is the best principle for young men, whose muscles are not yet trained to sustain such severe work.
FIG. 4.—TRYING FOR HALF-NELSON.
It is well to learn to do as much wrestling as possible standing on the two feet, and never to go down unless some decided advantage is to be gained by so doing. The advantages of doing the work on the feet are twofold. In the first place, it is a wonderful developer of strength, and gives great steadiness to the body; in the second place, it is of the most practical benefit. For instance, if you are called upon to put your knowledge of wrestling into service against an attack, you would find the ability to stand upon your feet of inestimable value; whereas, if you have trained yourself to do your best work by lying down, the chances in a rough-and-tumble scramble would doubtless be against you. It is true, nevertheless, that the majority of the wrestlers of the present day, as soon as time is called by the umpire, begin to dance about as if the floor burned their feet, and then attempt to secure a wrist hold, following this immediately by falling to the floor.
The man who wishes to do his wrestling on his feet should try to get a head hold (Fig. 1), and then make an effort to back-heel his man, which is done by jerking him forward, and as he steps in with his right leg, to put your left leg behind it on the outside and bend him over backwards. If you are strong enough, or have the slightest skill at this, your opponent is bound to go over. A still better hold perhaps for this back-heeling, but a more difficult one to secure, is an under-body hold, and then if you are successful and active you are certain to throw your man.
Two other very valuable, probably the most valuable, holds to be secured in wrestling on your feet are the buttock and the cross-buttock. They are both hard to get on a good man, and require the utmost skill in execution, for they are not to be bungled. For the cross-buttock hold, turning your left side to your opponent, get your hip partially underneath and in front of him, and then, with your arms held tightly around his neck and shoulder, quickly cross both his legs by your left, and lift him and bring him down; you will also go, but you will go down on top.
FIG. 5.—HALF-NELSON—NO HELP FOR HIM.
The buttock hold is a more difficult matter, but probably the most serviceable one for self-defence in an unsought contest. It is begun very much like the cross-buttock, except that you get your hip further under your opponent, and then bending over, with a powerful jerk on your arm about his neck, you shoot him into the air and over your back. It requires quickness and some strength.
There are of course a number of emergencies in which it is best to drop to the floor, and in this case the first principle that should always be observed is to keep your arms spread well apart (Fig. 2), in order to prevent your opponent from getting a farther arm and leg hold (Fig. 3). The next thing to do—or really it should be the first—is to keep the opponent from securing the half-nelson and back-hammer, as the top man is shown to be doing in Fig. 4. A hold of this kind means a certain fall.
Another important principle to observe is to keep the head well back, so that in case you are called on to spin out of a quarter or a half-nelson you will be able to bridge. One of the most eagerly sought-for holds among wrestlers is the half-nelson (Fig. 5); when this is secured, the lucky man rises to his feet, and stepping forward, falls on his prostrate opponent to keep him from forming a bridge.
The principal thing to keep in mind in wrestling is always to watch for an opening. Practice will soon teach you to guess your opponent's intentions by his movements. Always seek an opportunity to get away, for you are at a disadvantage when underneath. These are but a few suggestions toward this most interesting and valuable sport, for any amount of description might be written about the many holds and tricks of the game. The real knowledge of them is only to be obtained from practice, and the man who wishes to become a skilful wrestler must work daily and conscientiously in the gymnasium, and he will be surprised to see how very soon he will obtain a certain skill, quickness, and proficiency of which he had never even dreamed himself capable.