“Really, sir,” I said in English, springing to my feet in some confusion, “I would very much prefer to be excused, if you will kindly allow me. It would be the most rank presumption on my part to—”
“No, no,” cried several voices, among which I distinctly recognised that of Prince Kasho; “let us hear what the honourable Englishman has to say.”
“Quite right, gentlemen,” said Togo. “I fully agree with you. I know something of the English; and even though Mr Swinburne may differ from us all, I’ll warrant that he will not suggest any action that is not consonant with our honour, as seamen, or our loyalty to the Emperor. Pray proceed, Mr Swinburne.”
“Very well, then, Admiral, and gentlemen, since you do me the honour to insist, I will,” said I. “But you must permit me to begin by reminding you that I am only a boy, and that this is my first experience of actual warfare; therefore if I venture to express an opinion on what has been justly described as a most momentous question, I do so with the utmost diffidence. At the same time, although I have had no previous experience of war, I should like to say that I have studied the subject deeply and with intense interest. And it is with equal interest that I have listened to the expression of your views on the question now under consideration. I am filled with admiration of the noble and patriotic sentiments which have to-day been spoken within the walls of this cabin—sentiments with which I most cordially agree, since they happen to accurately coincide with my own.
“But, gentlemen, may I dare venture to remind you that patriotism and valour, splendid and admirable as they are, are not the only qualities that should distinguish the soldier or sailor who fights for his country? Inspired by them, a man may no doubt accomplish great things, wonderful things; but we Britons have a proverb which declares that discretion is the better part of valour, and in my humble opinion—which, I repeat, I advance with the utmost diffidence—the present is one of those occasions when valour, as heroic and self-sacrificing as you will, should go hand in hand with discretion.
“With your kind favour I will briefly mention the picture that arose in my mind while Prince Kasho was advocating the plan of taking the entire fleet into Port Arthur roadstead and engaging the Russians in a pitched battle.
“I readily grant you that the information communicated to the Admiral by Hang-won seems to indicate that to-night, or the small hours of to-morrow morning, will afford a magnificent opportunity for such a coup; but—let us consider all the consequences which that coup would entail. It may be that we should be able to take the Russians by surprise; it is exceedingly probable that some of the officers—perhaps a good many of them—will be ashore to-night; but, recognising the fact that Russia and Japan are at war, do you, gentlemen, as reasonable, sensible men, really believe for a moment that the Russian fleet will be left defenceless in an open roadstead, or that the vigilance of the lookouts will be relaxed? I do not. And, if not, the approach of such a formidable array as ours would assuredly be detected, and the alarm given, long before we could arrive within effective striking distance. Then what would be the ultimate result? I have not a doubt that we should be victorious, but at what cost? We must remember, gentlemen, that we should be not only engaging a fleet but slightly inferior in strength to our own, but the batteries as well; and it is in the batteries that our danger lies. I know not what the armament of those batteries may be, but I think we may safely assume that it will consist of weapons heavy enough to sink many of our ships while we are doing our best to sink theirs. With all submission, I think it would be the height of folly for us to assume that we could fight such a battle without serious loss to ourselves. And the point which I wish to emphasise is this: How are we going to make good those losses? The Russians can make good theirs by sending more ships out from Europe; but where are we to get more? I need not labour this question, gentlemen; I am sure you will all see what I mean, and therefore understand why I say that, altogether apart from the question of slavish obedience to orders, or otherwise, I think the Admiral is fully justified in his decision not to risk his ships in such an exceedingly hazardous enterprise.”
“Thank you, Mr Swinburne,” said Togo, offering me his hand as I sat down. “You have spoken pretty much as I expected you would.” Then, turning to one of the officers who had been busily writing all the time that I was speaking, he said:
“Captain Matsumoto, am I correct in supposing that you have been taking down Mr Swinburne’s remarks?”
“Quite correct, sir,” answered the skipper of the Fuji.