In the Yellow Sea

by Henry Frith

The roar was simply awful! The thunder was incessant. The shells came blazing across the sky, tore lines in the advancing troops, and ploughed the hillsides in all directions. This cannonade continued for quite an hour; it really seemed as if the fearful firing, noise, and thick smoke, would never cease around us. Daylight came, and then the Chinese played havoc with the assailants, who fell fast. But the Japanese guns were silencing the Chinese by degrees, and the men crept up to the forts, compelled to halt at times and take breath,—the last which many of them ever drew,—for the fire was fearful, and no command could be heard.

At length the three doomed forts were reached by the rear approach, and the only mode of capture was by climbing the thirteen feet walls! This was a feat in any case, but when the attempt was made amid a continuous fire, the situation seems impossible. The Japanese, however, succeeded by fixing their bayonets into the wall, and climbing by those impromptu steps to the top of the parapet, where they engaged the Chinese hand to hand. Others, again, were hoisted up by means of a rope, which a private soldier had let down after climbing up to the top by the inequalities in the masonry of the wall. These acts of heroic bravery were to be seen frequently, and at different points.

The assailants fell by hundreds at a time, but as soon as the survivors gained the advantage, and reached the platforms, the Chinese fled helter-skelter out of the forts, down the hills, in the direction of the sea, and the Japanese dashed after them, firing, or bayoneting the stragglers. Here were mandarins, officers, and soldiers, armed and unarmed, flying for dear life, and in numerous instances losing that.

As soon as the Chinese had evacuated the defences on the western side I essayed to climb up, but was forced to pause, not only from physical weakness, but because of mental disturbance. Already the Red Cross was in evidence tending and succouring the wounded and dying, and despatching the former to Kinchow, and subsequently to the Port Arthur Hospital. The Chinese, who did not understand, or certainly did not practise this humanity, frequently fired at the devoted bands, who thus suffered for their devotion.

As I advanced I rendered some assistance, I am pleased to think, but the numbers requiring aid were beyond expectation. The Japanese suffered greatly. Tens and dozens of dead bodies lay in groups in many places, and this slaughter was all around one. When the forts were stormed the Chinese became the victims and paid heavily for the Japanese dead. A terrible revenge was taken, and when the Pine Tree fort blew up there was a loud shout of victory. Thenceforth the invaders had all their own way.

And such a way! Midday had struck, as the phrase is, when the first forts were taken—Inland, and then the remaining forces came on to reduce the coast line of forts and redoubts, including the large Golden Hill fort already named, which by its cannon turning in all directions had caused much loss in the distant Japanese ranks. Preparations were made to storm this place late in the afternoon. The Chinese were still resisting under all possible cover in rifle-pits and trenches and redoubts, but all the time the Japanese were encircling them and the town—their usual method. I noticed that at sea the fleet circled round the Chinese ships, and now on land the soldiers came up on three sides.

Following the troops I watched them from a distant height forming a cordon around the devoted town, which contains about a thousand houses built Chinese fashion (usually in one storey), two theatres, temples, hotels, and banks, besides the extensive docks fitted with all modern appliances, torpedo factory, a railway, cranes, workshops, and basins for ships and boats. The place is well supplied with water, and later I witnessed a curious scene in those docks.

When I had struggled as near as I deemed prudent, armed with a Japanese rifle, cartridges, and a cap, I fancied I could hear a band playing. A musical welcome from the Chinese was perhaps the most curious of the many curious and contradictory things in China, but it was certainly a military band in the town, while the brigade beyond was storming the forts. I made inquiry as well as I could, and ascertained that the Japanese had already occupied the town, and the band was playing them in with their National Anthem, which I recognised as having already heard on board ship in the hour of victory.

The day was now coming to a close. Golden Hill remained in Chinese hands, and the fighting was for a while suspended. Still Port Arthur was in possession of the Japanese, and the remaining fort when attacked next morning was found empty. The garrison had deserted it in the night.

That night of the 21st November 1894 will be remembered by all who live to think of it. Why? you may ask. Simply because the Chinese were slain in the most savage and unrelenting way in the town. On the hill a chill and piercing wind rose that night, and the sufferings of the wounded must have been terrible. I made my way at dusk, under shelter, behind the hill I had scrambled up before, and found the Japanese lying on their faces still, thickly. The Chinese were lying anyhow on that hill, and on the other slope; half-clothed, nearly always unarmed, and seldom in any "uniform" dress.