A cavalry patrol of seven went forward and followed cautiously along the main road until dusk, turning back at a village just under the hills. They saw the bodies of the seven Japanese who had been left dead on the field, hacked, stripped, beheaded, and in two cases minus the right hand; they saw the cavalryman’s horse lying partly flayed with the skin turned back where two large pieces of flesh had been carved out and carried away. They saw traces of the Chinese every few yards, but no bodies; they must have been removed, for the men of Satsuma had not died for nothing. They saw no signs of life except the patrols and men with stretchers for the dead, as they rode back slowly into camp at Ye-jo-shu, over ten miles of wretched roads, the horses nearly dead with the fatigue of a long day’s work, stumbling at every step, and finally having to be left with the coolies while the riders walked most of the way. These coolies were simply wonderful in their endurance; after the helter-skelter race for the monument they came up smiling only a few minutes behind, in spite of their forty pound pack on their shoulders.
JAPANESE SOLDIERS REMOVING DEAD BODIES.
The advance was slow during the 19th and 20th, the desire being to give the soldiers as much rest as possible before the hard work of the assault. On arriving at Dojoshu, a village at the foot of the hills near Port Arthur, about noon on the 20th, the troops were halted. Oyama had gone around to survey the field, and was expected back every minute, so the time of waiting was passed in a hurried midday meal. Suddenly the boom of heavy guns was heard, and the Chinese were seen advancing in two columns, the right one by Suishiyeh, under the eyes of the troops who held the hill where the army had halted, and the left by way of the west side of the valley, out of sight behind the foot hills. They had at last learned that the invading armies had almost surrounded them, and must be dislodged if possible. But it was not possible now. It was too late.
As soon as the advancing left column got within a mile, a portion of the Japanese artillery opened with shrapnel. The forts replied as soon as the positions were revealed. About 3:00 o’clock the Chinese column got within short range of the Japanese batteries, and was struck fairly in the center by the first two shells. The foolish banners dropped at once, and the column lay down. Bravely the line was reformed twice, but the shelling was too hot and too accurate. The Chinese got their field guns into position but could do nothing for practically none of the Japanese were exposed to them or to the forts. There was a little musketry fire on both sides, but of no importance. The artillery settled the affair, and by 5:00 o’clock the whole of the Chinese army had marched back into camp. The forts away on the sea-front got into action before dusk, and dropped a few 12-inch shells uselessly on the hilltops a mile beyond the Japanese; but when the last streak of daylight had disappeared, all was quiet. During the rest of the night there was no sound nor sign on either side.
THE CAPTURE OF PORT ARTHUR AND THE MASSACRE.
Description of the Great Chinese Naval Station—Strength of its position—The Defenses—Arrangement of Japanese Troops, and Plan of Attack—The First Assault—Attack and Counter-Attack—Fall of the Chinese Forts—Action of the Fleet—The Japanese in the Streets of Port Arthur—Massacre of Fugitives—Japanese Red Cross Society and Its Previous Good Work—Shocking Details of the Atrocities Committed After the Taking of the Town—Four Days of Violence and Cruelty—Stories of Eyewitnesses—Japanese Explanations and Excuses—Effects of the Capture of Port Arthur on the War.
Port Arthur, or to give it its native name, Lu-shun-kou, was the largest naval station possessed by the Chinese. Situated at the extreme southern end of the Liao-Tung peninsula, Port Arthur in its earlier days afforded convenient shelter for winter-bound junks employed in carrying timber from the Yalu River to the ports westward. At that period it was merely a small village consisting of less than one hundred mud houses, an occasional shop, and three or four inns. The prosperity of the town began with the determination of the authorities in 1881 to establish a naval dockyard at the port. At first the work was entrusted to native contractors, who however proved to be quite incapable of carrying out so extended an undertaking, and in 1887 a French company took up the contract, completing the work in three years. The port then boasted of a large basin with a depth of twenty-five feet at low water. Spacious wharves and quays bordered this basin, and were connected with the workshops by a railroad. Two dry-docks were built ready for repairing ships of all sizes, from iron clads to torpedo vessels. Foundries and workshops were constructed on the most improved models, and containing the best modern machinery. The fact that the harbor was always free from ice, even in the coldest of winter, added to its value. By the time of the beginning of the war, the number of houses had multiplied until they were able to contain a population of about six thousand, exclusive of the garrison. There were also two large temples, two theatres, and several banks, besides the necessary stores and warehouses.
Such land defenses as this important dockyard possessed when the war broke out, were limited to nine small redoubts, connected by mud walls in some cases, on the north and northeast, and three redoubts on the southwest. On the north side a range of hills from three hundred and fifty to six hundred and fifty feet high, running from the sea to a shallow inlet of the harbor, enclosed the position. The tops of these hills were not more than two thousand five hundred yards from the dockyard and town. The original line of defenses was still closer to the town, and on the northern side was only about one thousand yards in advance of the vital point. The strongest part of the position was a group of three coast batteries surrounded by a continuous mud wall, and crowning a hill on the right of the entrance to the harbor. The works all appeared to be designed for the protection of the narrow harbor mouth, which at the entrance was only a few hundred yards wide.