To the northeast of Osino Island lies a dangerous little archipelago known as the Liancourt Rocks, and with his battleships and heavily armored cruisers the Japanese admiral stood out in crescent form across the Korean Strait and drove the enemy toward this dangerous running.
Keeping together in some semblance of order, five Russians, consisting of the battleships Nicolai I and Orel and the coast defence vessels Senyanin and Apraxine and the protected cruiser Izumrud, were heading bravely for the Sea of Japan. Seeing a possibility of their escape, Togo, who was personally conducting the pursuit, signaled to close in and attack.
With their forward turrets blazing and roaring, the Japanese squadron dashed on. The Russians replied vigorously for a time, but the gunnery of the Japanese was too deadly and accurate; shells were carrying death and destruction into the fleeing five, and the fight went out of the Russians.
Admiral Nebogatoff Surrenders
One after another flew surrender signals, the Japanese ceased firing, and the Nicolai I, Orel, Senyanin and Apraxine were added to the Mikado's navy. Only the Izumrud got away. Fleeter than her sisters, she steamed boldly to the northwest. But she was doomed. Swift pursuing Japanese cruisers followed, hurling after her tons of metal, much of it taking effect. The end came when the Russian ship, entering Vladimir Bay, went fast on a reef. The Russian captain blew up the ship.
So practically ended the second day's fight, and here again the apparently impossible happened—Togo's captains all reported, "No damage to men or ships."
Togo's captains, had, however, other things to report, for while the main force of the combined squadron was hammering the four Russians into subjection off the Liancourt Rocks others of the cruisers were chasing scattered Russian ships, while still others were completing the work of destruction around Osino Island. Two special service ships and a destroyer were captured, and so was the armored cruiser Monomach, but she foundered soon after transference of flags.
And there were prisoners to report, 3,000 of them, including the unhappy Nebogatoff, while up and down the seas the fight between pursued and pursuer still went on.
Battles at sea are necessarily fought away from the eyes of neutral observers. The active participants are unable to know of more than the immediate scene of the drama in which their own ship is engaged. Even the admiral of the fleet is unable to see all that occurs. Hence detailed, continuous accounts of such occurrences rarely, if ever, are written until years later the disconnected stories of here one, there another, can be assembled, corrected, dovetailed. Sufficient time has not elapsed since this remarkable battle to permit of such assembling of facts. But both Japanese and Russians have told of individual experiences. These have a graphic interest, coming hot from the scene of the great events which, perhaps, a more finished narrative might lack. First in interest, come the actual reports from the admiral himself. Few great fighters have been men of fewer words than this Togo. His reports, and, indeed, all of the Japanese reports, have been in marked contrast to the elaborate, verbose messages sent to the Emperor of Russia.
The story of the battle, as told by Admiral Togo, follows: