These tactics were continued during the next three days, when the ships attacked with flags flying as if in anticipation of victory. The severe bombardment was continued, the Chinese pluckily replied; they did considerable damage to the enemy; and the attack was continued until night. Still the Chinese admiral resisted, though the losses he had sustained in ships and boats were most serious. The once large and formidable Peiyang Fleet had dwindled away, and now only four ships and a few gunboats represented the former powerful array. The end was at hand.
We heard afterwards some particulars of the concluding days of the contest, which must have been severely trying for the Celestials. In our fleet the termination of the war was everywhere discussed. Port Arthur captured, its forts denuded of guns, Kinchow, and other places inland in Japanese hands; Wei-hai-Wei on the brink of destruction—what chance had the Chinese admiral and generals? Better had they accepted the offer of the Japanese and surrendered at first.
We were all awake early in the morning of the 12th February, because experience told us that the enemy must either resist to the death that day or capitulate. The blockade was so close, the odds against the Chinese so great, that we had already wondered at the sustained resistance, The extreme limit of Celestial endurance had been reached, though we did not anticipate the result as it actually happened.
As the grey winter day rose out of the sea to port, all eyes were fixed upon the batteries and the ships in harbour. Telescopes swept the hills and platforms, the traces of the wrecked boom, the almost deserted islands, the shattered forts. As men gazed in silence, broken only at intervals by duty orders, a sense of depression fell upon me, as if something unpleasant awaited us. Yet precautions had been taken—nothing could harm us. Nevertheless one felt something was approaching. The snowclad hills lay silent and cold over all—a shroud spread over dying Wei-hai-Wei. Surely that small Chinese gunboat cleaving the lumpy water had nothing to do with the dénouement. One boat amongst so many ironclads and torpedo-boats could not do any harm. It was only eight o'clock then. "What do you say, Tomi? A white flag! Surrender! Never! never!"
"Yes it is," said Tomi, laughing. "Hurrah! you would say in England. The admiral has surrendered. There goes the message of peace. He is making for the Matsushima. We win! we win!"
We looked again. All the ships' companies were on the alert, but though every mind had at once grasped the position, scarce a mouth yet betrayed the feelings of delight and satisfaction that must have been experienced. What would the admiral's reply be? Three torpedo-boats at once came to escort the stranger, and to make inquiry concerning her business—at least so we interpreted the conversation which seemed, judging from gestures, to be proceeding. A boat left the Chinese vessel, and the messenger was carried on board the Japanese flagship.
The message must have been important, because some officers were quickly summoned from other of our fleet. Subsequently a steamer quitted the squadron for the eastern shore, presumably to acquaint the Commander-in-Chief of the army of the incident, but these were only surmises at the time, though afterwards verified.
That afternoon the news ran through the ships that the Chinese had surrendered, and Admiral Ito had accepted the offer. He trusted fully to Admiral Ting to act as he desired, promising safe-conduct. But when next day the gunboat again appeared she carried her flag "half-mast." Ting and his generals had committed suicide. They could not face the disgrace,—a disgrace which they knew would be visited upon all their families, for in China retribution is exacted from all the family for the fault of one. Ting had taken opium.
The melancholy signal to the fleet was received with honest regret. There was no exultation over the fallen enemy, no music brayed out triumphal strains of victory, only the wailing notes of funeral marches in saddened plaints echoed across the water. The gunboat was returned to the Chinese so that it might convey the admiral's body to China, and the place surrendered with all its contents, its troops, sailors, ships, and material, to the Japanese, who will retain it till the English come.
Thus fell the fortunes of Wei-hai-Wei, the details of which may be read in many published books and Eastern newspapers.