The rescript of the Japanese emperor was a formal declaration of war, which may be read in connection with the similar document issued in 1894 at the beginning of the Chinese war. The rescript ran as follows: "We, by the grace of Heaven, the Emperor of Japan, seated on the throne occupied by the same dynasty from time immemorial, do hereby make proclamation to all our loyal and brave subjects:
"We hereby declare war against Russia. We command our army and navy to carry on hostilities against her with all their strength, and we also command all our officials to make effort, in pursuance of their duties and in accordance with their powers, to attain the national aim, with all the means within the limits of the law of nations.
"We deem it essential to international relations, and make it our constant aim, to promote the pacific progress of our empire in civilization, to strengthen our friendly ties with other states, and thereby to establish a state of things which would maintain enduring peace in the East, and assure the future security of our empire without injury to the rights and interests of other powers. Our officials also perform their duties in obedience to our will, so that our relations with all powers grow steadily in cordiality.
"It is thus entirely against our wishes that we have unhappily come to open hostilities against Russia.
"The integrity of Korea has long been a matter of the gravest concern to our empire, not only because of the traditional relations between the two countries, but because the separate existence of Korea is essential to the safety of our empire. Nevertheless, Russia, despite her explicit treaty pledges to China and her repeated assurance to other powers, is still in occupation of Manchuria, and has consolidated and strengthened her hold upon it, and is bent upon its final absorption. Since the possession of Manchuria by Russia would render it impossible to maintain the integrity of Korea, and would, in addition, compel the abandonment of all hope for peace in the Far East, we expected, in these circumstances, to settle the question by negotiations and secure thereby a permanent peace. With this object in view, our officials by our order made proposals to Russia, and frequent conferences were held during the last half year. Russia, however, never met such proposals in a spirit of conciliation, but by her prolonged delays put off the settlement of the pending question, and, by ostensibly advocating peace on the one hand, and on the other secretly extending her naval and military preparations, sought to bring about our acquiescence. It is not possible in the least to admit that Russia had from the first a sincere desire for peace. She has rejected the proposals of our empire; the safety of Korea is in danger; the interests of our empire are menaced. At this crisis, the guarantees for the future which the empire has sought to secure by peaceful negotiations can now only be sought by an appeal to arms.
"It is our earnest wishes that, by the loyalty and valor of our faithful subjects, peace may soon be permanently restored and the glory of our empire preserved."
Night attacks by the Japanese destroyers were repeated several times during the first two months of the war, and succeeded in inflicting some damages on the Russian destroyers and gunboats. The Japanese also made three attempts, on the nights of February 23-24, March 21-22, and May 2-3, to force a few old stone-laden steamers up to the mouth of the harbor, in order to sink them there and thus block the entrance. The glare of the Russian searchlights and the fierce fire from the shore batteries and war vessels made it impossible for these heroic attempts to be completely successful, and the channel remained partially open to large vessels at high tide.
The indirect attacks and the laying of machine mines by the Japanese were, however, much more successful. The former proved so damaging to the Russian warships in the harbor that the lately arrived Vice Admiral Makarov, whose spirited discipline had already begun to inspire the squadron with courage and confidence, often steamed out with a few vessels, and returned fire with fire. Mines were laid by the Japanese at points where the brave Makarov always moved about. On the morning of April 13 his squadron of seven vessels, including the flagship Peteropavlovsk, was tempted by Japanese blockaders to a distance of fifteen miles from the harbor, where it was suddenly encountered by another Japanese detachment. Turning about and pursued by the enemy, the Russian vessels retreated toward the harbor, when the Peteropavlovsk struck a mine, at 10.32 A. M., and, after a terrific explosion, turned turtle and immediately sank. Makarov and 600 men, with the artist Vereshchagin, went down with the vessel, but the Grand Duke Cyril was rescued. The Japanese fleet also lost, on May 15, the cruiser Yoshino by collision, and the battleship Hatsuse by twice striking Russian mines. Other Japanese vessels sunk during the entire period of the war by contact with the enemy's mines were: the battleship Yashima, the cruisers Takasago, Saiyen, and Miyako, and two destroyers and three gunboats.
After the disaster of April 13 the Russian vessels seldom ventured out of the harbor in a large force. Realizing, however, that the Baltic fleet might be unable to reach the eastern waters before the gradual fall of the land forts at Port Arthur would expose the vessels to the Japanese fire from the shore, the Russian squadron made two desperate attempts, on June 23 and August 10, to force its way through the blockading line and effect a junction with the Vladivostok squadron. On the former occasion the Vladivostok vessels had just started on one of their raiding expeditions, and torpedoed and sank three Japanese transports, carrying 1400 soldiers. The entire Port Arthur squadron, led by the gallant cruiser Novik, made a sortie in the morning at high tide, and, toward the evening, was met by the Japanese fleet. Returning toward the harbor, and finding that the tide was now too low at the entrance for their larger vessels, the Russians anchored them bow out and stern to the shore, and, under the protection of the shore batteries, stood at bay over night. Admiral Tōgō gave an order for night attack to his torpedo boats and destroyers, which, he reported later to his government, "dashed ahead like a swift wind." Balancing themselves amid the columns of waterspouts raised by the falling shells from the enemy, the little boats made charge after charge against the narrow front of the Russian vessels. It was seen the next morning that the battleship Pereviet had disappeared and two other vessels were towed into the harbor.
The sortie of August 10 proved even more desperate and far more disastrous to the Russians. Rear Admiral Witthoeft led out six battleships and three protected cruisers southward in a hazy, but calm, sea, and at noon was nearly thirty miles off the harbor. A little after one o'clock began the first serious battle of the war, in which modern armored vessels met on nearly equal terms. The battle was renewed a few hours later, and on each occasion the Russians suffered from the heavy shells from the 8-inch guns of the Japanese, aided by the latter's superior gunnery and highly explosive powder. At 6.40 the flagship Cesarevich lost its steering gear, and the commanding Admiral Witthoeft was also killed. Then the Russian vessels began utterly to lose unity of command and action, and, under the withering fire of the Japanese from three different directions, were completely routed and scattered. The flagship and two cruisers reached Tsing-tau in battered condition. One of the latter, the Novik, was later found off Sakhalin and there sunk by Admiral Kamimura's squadron, and the other, the Askold, and a gunboat reached Shanghai. The Ryeshitelni arrived at Chifu. The rest of the squadron hastened back toward Port Arthur, where they were subjected to a night attack of the Japanese torpedo craft. Of the vessels which finally retired into the harbor, not one was uninjured, while the fire from the advancing land forces of the Japanese was soon to make the position of these ships insufferable. The Japanese fleet sustained no heavy injury on any of the vessels, and lost only 170 in killed and wounded. Of the Russian vessels which found shelter in neutral ports, the Cesarevich at Tsing-tau was promptly disarmed at the request of the German governor of Kiao-chow, but those at Shanghai neither were disarmed nor left the port for more than two weeks. The Diana reached Saigon, French Indo-China, and was there dismantled without much delay. The Ryeshitelni at Chifu, which was said to have sent telegraphic messages to Vladivostok and St. Petersburg, and was imperfectly disarmed, was finally forcibly captured by two Japanese cruisers, which action caused wide criticism.