The Admiral is a Satsuma man, born in the castle town of Kagoshima on the 6th of December 1847, and comes of Samurai stock, his father being one of the retainers of the daimio Shimadzu Saburo. When only sixteen he was placed aboard one of the small war vessels then owned by the principality, and was in the engagement with Admiral Kuper’s Squadron when the British bombarded Kagoshima in 1863. As is elsewhere explained, the Satsuma men realised that modern Western appliances gave great power to those who wielded them as weapons of warfare, and with the conviction uppermost that they had made as good a fight as could have been expected with rather antiquated guns, they forthwith prepared to be good friends with their late antagonists, and to learn all they could with the object of making the Satsuma clan a tower of strength in view of the Restoration of Imperial rule.
In 1868 Togo Heihachi was an officer aboard one of the three Satsuma ships that then came to Kobé, and fought with Admiral Enomoto’s squadron in January in Awa Bay. She was the Kiang-Su, later named Kasuga-Kan, and she routed her enemy, the Kwai-Ten. The Kasuga-Kan had originally been Admiral Sherard Osborn’s flagship when the “Lay flotilla” was taken out to China, and as the Chinese did not want her, she was sold to the prince of Satsuma. She was a fairly fast vessel of the paddle-wheel type, and did good service for the Imperial Government after the Restoration. In the year 1871 Togo Heihachi came to England and was for the ensuing seven years in H.M.S. Worcester at Greenhithe, and the Royal Naval College at Greenwich. In 1878 the Kon-go Kan and Hi-yei Kan composite corvettes were completed in Great Britain for the Japanese Government to the designs of Sir Edward Reed, and Togo Heihachi went out in the Hiyei.
From that time nothing was heard of him until the famous affair of the Kowshing, at the commencement of the Japan and China War, in 1894, when he commanded the Naniwa Kan, a Second-class Cruiser built at Elswick-on-Tyne in 1885. During the long interval he had been steadily climbing the ladder, and had gone through all the stages to the attainment of the rank of Commander. A thorough seaman, he did not disdain to personally instruct those under him in the most ordinary duties, translating naval technicalities from English text-books into Japanese for the puzzled junior officers who had not been out of Japan for their education. Later, the Naniwa was one of the flying squadron of four ships under Admiral Tsuboi that preceded the main squadron under Admiral Ito into action with the Chinese fleet off Hai-Yang Island, the engagement being known as the Naval Battle of the Yalu. After the fight was over the Naniwa was sent westward to reconnoitre Wei-Hai-Wei, Chifu, and Port Arthur.
When the prospect of war with Russia in 1903 necessitated much preparation at Tokio, Togo was summoned by Admiral Yamamoto, his old friend and schoolfellow, to the Capital, and he rose from a sick-bed to go, replying to his wife’s remonstrances, “I shall be well the moment I set foot on deck and drink in the salt-laden air.” It is recorded of him that while stationed at Maizuru, the naval depot on the west coast of the main island, facing Korea, he practically lived in his office, and scarcely spoke to any of his officers, merely saluting as he passed in and out. His taciturnity is proverbial, yet children in Japan find nothing forbidding in him and crowd round him with delight. He resides in an exceedingly modest dwelling-house in a Tokio suburb, its furniture and decorations being of the simplest kind. So imperturbable is he that had he been aboard his flagship the Mikasa when she went down recently in harbour at Sasebo it is certain that he would not have lost his self-possession for an instant, and to those who know him best he is the “silent one,” who loves to be alone with his tiny silver tobacco pipe. His recreations are hunting game with his breech-loader and his dogs, or trout-fishing in some mountain stream. Madame Togo has said that when he went to join the United Squadrons a short time prior to the outbreak of hostilities in 1904, he merely asked her to be kind enough to take care of his dogs.
Even for a Japanese the Admiral is short, and rather stout, of figure, and people marvel when they see him that he can be “the great Togo, the Nelson of Japan.” But the energy of the man is revealed in his quick, piercing glance. He is a strict disciplinarian, and a hater, above all things, of display, or of public homage. A story is current at Sasebo that before the fleet sailed for Port Arthur he called all his officers on board the Mikasa and briefly addressed them to the effect:—“We sail to-night, and our enemy flies the Russian flag.” On a tray in front of him lay one of those short daggers which in former times were used to commit Seppuku. As the officers filed past him he looked each one in the eyes, and all of them understood his meaning. None would have survived the disgrace of a defeat. It is his practice, it may be added, as showing his indifference to danger, to direct operations during an engagement entirely from the bridge, and he has had some narrow escapes.
The incidents of the Naval campaign of 1904-5 are so fresh in everyone’s memory that it would be tedious to go into minute details. On the night of the 8th of February 1904, the Russian fleet, which lay conveniently for Admiral Togo’s purpose outside the harbour of Port Arthur, found itself attacked. Two Russian battleships and one cruiser were torpedoed, and next day the assault was renewed with the result that another battleship and three more cruisers were badly damaged. Five days later Admiral Togo sent his destroyers to the attack in a snowstorm, and another Russian cruiser was torpedoed. On the 24th of the month an attempt was made to seal Port Arthur by sinking steamers which officers of Admiral Togo’s fleet navigated, and on the 9th and 10th March there was another destroyer attack, followed by a bombardment on the 21st and 22nd.
Five days later another desperate effort was made to block Port Arthur by sinking steamers, and on the 13th of April a Russian Squadron was decoyed out of harbour and the Petropavlovsk, with the Russian Admiral Makharoff on board, was sunk by a mine. At last on the 3rd of May Port Arthur was at all events temporarily blocked, for battleships and cruisers, but on the 15th Admiral Togo had the misfortune to lose two of his finest battleships, the Hatsusé and Yashima, both built on the Tyne, having run upon drifting torpedoes. There was a naval sortie on the 23rd June, which was easily repulsed by the Japanese fleet, and on the 10th of August took place the memorable battle in the Yellow Sea, when the Russian fleet, issuing from Port Arthur, was defeated and dispersed, some of the ships getting back to harbour at the fortress, but others making for neutral ports, where they were interned until the conclusion of the war. On this occasion the Russian Admiral Vitoft was killed in action. There was a long running fight in which the Mikasa greatly distinguished herself, and at 6.12 P.M. a 12-inch shell came aboard her and burst close to her bridge on the port side. Admiral Togo, with his Chief of Staff, and the captain of the ship, with five others, were on the bridge at the time, and four of the eight persons were hit by fragments, but the admiral was untouched. He had been on the bridge throughout the action, from the first exchange of shots at one o’clock, but his subordinates were resolved that he should stay there no longer, and by efforts little short of an application of physical force, he was induced to enter the conning-tower. At 8 P.M. the Russian ships had fallen into inextricable confusion, and it was left to the Japanese torpedo craft to continue the fight, with what result was never precisely ascertained. The Russian vessels at Port Arthur were ultimately sunk by their Commanders prior to the Capitulation of the 2nd January 1905, but most of them have since been raised and taken over to Japan.
On the 12th of April Admiral Rojdestvensky arrived at Kamranh Bay in Indo-China, and on the 22nd left there under pressure from France after Japanese protests had been lodged against infractions of neutrality. The battle of the Sea of Japan was fought on the 27th and 28th of May 1905, and Admiral Togo succeeded in annihilating the Russian Baltic Fleet.
After peace was made the Japanese vessels remained for a time at Sasebo, where an explosion occurred on board the Mikasa and she sank at her moorings, but was not wholly submerged, the work of refloating her being one that it was fully expected would be completed early in 1906. In October the Combined Fleet was reviewed by the Japanese Emperor at its moorings, drawn up in seven lines, in the bay of Tokio, extending from the mouth of the Rokugo river at Kawasaki to the vicinity of Hommoku Point, near Yokohama. Prior to the fleet’s arrival in Tokio Bay it had paid a visit to Isé Bay, which opens out of the Pacific in lat. 34° 30´ North, and was formerly known as Owari Gulf. The assembly of the combined squadrons in the bay was an imposing spectacle, and Admiral Togo, with his staff-officers, visited the sacred shrines of the Imperial ancestors, at Yamada, which is near Toba harbour. Hundreds of thousands of the people had assembled from far and near. Admiral Togo was the recipient of the greatest honours that his admiring countrymen could pay, both there and afterwards at Tokio, where they gathered absolutely to the number of a quarter of a million to bid him welcome on his safe return to his home.
On the 29th of October he visited the beautiful Cemetery at Aoyama, in the Capital, to take part in an impressive Shinto Ceremony in honour of the departed naval heroes of the war, the spot chosen being close to that where lies Captain Hirosé, the officer who lost his own life while trying to succour a subordinate in the second attempt to block Port Arthur. The central figure of the gathering was Admiral Togo, who was escorted by a detachment of his sailors, unarmed. After the religious rites had been solemnly performed, he moved to the altar, and standing alone while all the officers and men present came to the salute, he read an address to the spirits of the dead. It ran somewhat as follows:—