In these latter days the world seems
overturned. Events of startling interest are
every year taking place, new discoveries are made,
new inventions produced, new explorations completed,
peoples and tribes formerly not even known by name
are becoming prominent in daily history, and nations
which seemed sunk in a death-like slumber are awakening
and claiming a place among the leading powers of the
world. And of all these events perhaps the most
astounding is that which took place in September,
1894, the battle of iron-clads in the Yellow Sea.
About forty years before there had
begun among Western nations a remarkable revolution
in naval warfare, the substitution of the iron-clad
for the wooden man-of-war. During the interval
this evolution of the iron-clad had gone briskly on,
until by 1894 the nations of Europe and America possessed
fleets of such wonderful powers of resistance that
the naval artillery of the past would have had no more
effect upon them than hailstones upon an iron roof.
But a revolution in artillery had also taken place.
The old smooth-bore guns had been replaced by great
rifled cannon capable of sending a heavy ball for ten
or twelve miles and of piercing through steel plates
of moderate thickness as through so much paper.
With these came the quick-fire guns, from whose gaping
mouths cannon-balls could be rained like the drops
of a rapid shower, and the torpedoes, capable of tearing
ruinous holes in the sides and bottoms of the mightiest
ships.
Such was the work that was doing in
the West while the East slept calmly on. But
no occasion had arisen for putting to the proof these
great floating engines of war. Theories in abundance
were offered of the probable effect upon one another
of two modern fleets, but the dread of terrible results
had a potent influence, and fear of the destructive
powers of modern ships and armies had proved the strongest
of arguments in keeping the nations of the world at
peace.
The astounding event spoken of is
the fact that the iron-clad battle-ship of the present
day was first put to proof in the waters of the Yellow
Sea, in a war between two nations which half a century
before were hardly beyond the bow-and-arrow stage
of warfare, and were still novices in the modern art
of war. The naval inventions made in Europe and
America had their first trial in a conflict between
China and Japan, and the interest with which maritime
nations read of the doings of these powerful engines
of war in those far-off waters was intense.
Japan had been alert in availing itself
of all the world knew about war, providing its army
with the best modern weapons and organizing them in
the most effective European method, while purchased
iron-clads replaced its old fleet of junks. China,
though doing little for the improvement of its army,
had bought itself a modern fleet, two of its ships,
the Ting-yuen and Chen-yuen, having fourteen inches
of iron armor, and surpassing in size and strength
anything that Japan had to show. These vessels
were all armed with the most effective of modern weapons,
were handled by men trained in the theories of European
war, and seemed capable of the most destructive results.
On the 17th of September, 1894, an
epoch-making battle of these iron-clads took place.
It was a remarkably different event from the first
engagement of this sort, that between the Monitor and
the Merrimac in Hampton Roads, for the guns now brought
into play would have pierced the armor of those vessels
as if it had been made of tin. The Japanese squadron
had just convoyed a fleet of transports, bearing ten
thousand troops and thirty-five hundred horses, to
Chemulpo, near the Corean capital. The Chinese
squadron had similarly convoyed four thousand troops
to the Yalu River. These were landed on the 16th,
and on the morning of the 17th the fleet started on
its return. On the same morning the Japanese
fleet reached the island of Hai-yang, leaving their
torpedo-boats behind, as there was no thought of fighting
a battle. About nine o’clock smoke was
seen in the distance, and at eleven-forty the Chinese
fleet came into sight.
The Japanese fleet consisted of ten
vessels, the First Flying Squadron, consisting of
four fine cruisers of high speed, and the Main Squadron,
composed of six vessels of lower speed. There
were two smaller ships, of no value as fighting vessels.
The Chinese fleet was composed of twelve vessels and
six torpedo-boats, though two of the vessels and the
torpedo-boats were at a distance, so that the effective
fighting force on each side was composed of ten ships-of-war.
The Chinese fleet included the two great ships already
named, the Ting-yuen and Chen-yuen. The latter,
as has been said, were heavily armored. The other
Chinese ships were lightly protected, and some of
them not at all. None of the Japanese vessels
had external armor, their protection consisting of
steel decks and internal lining down to the water-line.
On perceiving the enemy’s ships,
Admiral Ito, of the Japanese fleet, at once gave orders
to his captains to prepare for action. Ting, the
Chinese admiral, did the same, drawing up his fleet
in a single line, with the large ships in the centre
and the weaker ones on the wings. Ito, who proposed
to take advantage of the superior speed of his ships
and circle round his adversary, drew up his vessels
in a single column with the Flying Squadron at the
head.
The action began at 1 P.M., the Chinese
opening fire at about six thousand yards, the Japanese
reserving their fire until at half that distance.
Ito headed his ships straight for the centre of the
Chinese line, but on drawing near they swerved so
as to pass the Chinese right wing, their speed being
at the same time increased. As the Yoshino, which
led the movement, came up, she became a target for
the whole Chinese fleet, but her speed soon carried
her out of danger, the Flying Squadron sweeping swiftly
past the Chinese right wing and pouring a deadly fire
on the unprotected vessels there posted as they passed.
The stream of shells from the rapid-fire guns tore
the wood-work of these vessels into splinters and
set it on fire, the nearest ship, the Yang Wei, soon
bursting into flames.
The Japanese admiral, keeping at a
distance from the large central vessels with their
heavy guns, and concentrating his fire on the smaller
flanking ships, continued his evolution, the Main Squadron
following the Flying Squadron past the Chinese right
wing and pouring its fire on the second ship in the
line, the Chao-yung, which, like its consort, was
soon in flames. This movement, however, proved
a disadvantage to the slower vessels of the Japanese
fleet, which could not keep pace with their consorts,
particularly to the Hiyei, which lagged so far in the
rear as to become exposed to the fire of the whole
Chinese fleet, now rapidly forging ahead. In
this dilemma its commander took a bold resolve.
Turning, he ran directly for the line of the enemy,
passing between the Ting-yuen and the King-yuen at
five hundred yards’ distance. Two torpedoes
which were launched at him fortunately missed, but
he had to bear the fire of several of his antagonists,
and came through the line with his vessel in flames.
The Akagi, a little Japanese gunboat, hurried to his
aid, though seriously cut up by the fire of the Lai-yuen,
which pursued until set on fire and forced to withdraw
by a lucky shot in return. Meanwhile the Flying
Squadron had wheeled to meet the two distant Chinese
ships, which were hastily coming up in company with
the torpedo-boats. On seeing this movement they
drew back and kept well out of reach. Somewhat
later these vessels took part in the action, though
not an important one. At 2.23 P.M. the Chao-yang,
which had been riddled by the fire of the Main Squadron,
sank, the cries of the drowning men sounding above
the roar of the cannon as she went down.
As a result of the Japanese evolution,
the two squadrons finally closed in on the Chinese
fleet on both sides and the battle reached its most
furious phase. The two flag-ships, the Japanese
Matsushima and the Chinese Ting-yuen, poured the fire
of their great guns upon each other with terrible
effect, the wood-work of the Chinese iron-clad being
soon in flames, while a shell that burst on the Matsushima
exploded a heap of ammunition and killed or wounded
eighty men. Fire broke out, but it was soon extinguished.
Almost all the Japanese gunners were killed, but volunteers
pressed forward to take their place, among them even
the band-players.
On the Chinese flag-ship the flames
drove the gunners from their pieces, and she would
probably have been destroyed had not the Chen-yuen
come bravely to her aid. The fire was finally
extinguished by the aid of some foreigners who were
on board. It may be said here that the fire-drill
of the Japanese was far superior to that of their
foes.
The Japanese continued their circling
movement around their slower antagonists, pouring
a concentrated fire upon the weaker vessels, of which
the Chih-yuen was sunk at about 3.30 P.M. and the King-yuen
at 4.48. By this time the Chinese fleet was in
the greatest disorder, its line broken, some of its
vessels in full flight, and all coherence gone.
The fire of the Japanese fleet was now principally
directed against the two large iron-clads, but the
fourteen-inch armor of these resisted the heaviest
guns in the Japanese fleet, and, though their upper
works were riddled and burnt, they were able to continue
the battle.
In the fight here described the Japanese
had shown a discipline and a skill in naval tactics
far superior to those of their foes. They had
kept at a distance of about four thousand yards from
their antagonists, so as to avoid their heavy fire
and make the most advantageous use of their larger
number of rapid-fire guns and also of their much better
marksmanship. The result of the battle was not
due to greater courage, but to superior skill and
more effective armament.
At nightfall, as the torpedo-boats
had now joined the Chinese fleet, the Japanese drew
off, not caring to risk the perils of a battle at night
with such antagonists, both sides being also exhausted
by the long fight. The next morning the Chinese
fleet had disappeared. It had lost four vessels
in the fight, and a fifth afterwards ran ashore and
was blown up. Two of the Japanese ships were
badly damaged, but none were lost, while the total
loss in killed and wounded was two hundred and eighteen,
nearly half of them on the flag-ship. The Chinese
lost far more heavily, from the sinking of a number
of their ships.
Thus ended the typical battle of modern
naval warfare, one whose result was mainly due to
the greater speed and rapid evolutions of the Japanese
ships and the skill with which they concentrated a
crushing fire on the weak points of the enemy’s
line. The work of the quick-firing guns was the
most striking feature of the battle, while the absence
of torpedo-boats prevented that essential element
of a modern fleet from being brought into play.
An important lesson learned was that too much wood-work
in an iron-clad vessel is a dangerous feature, and
naval architects have since done their best to avoid
this weak point in the construction of ships-of-war.
But the most remarkable characteristic of the affair
is that the battle was fought by two nations which,
had the war broken out forty years before, would have
done their naval fighting with fleets of junks.
It may be said in conclusion that
the Chinese fleet was annihilated in the later attack
on the port of Wei-hai-wei, many of the vessels
being destroyed by torpedo-boats, and the remainder,
unable to escape from the harbor, being forced to
surrender to the Japanese. Thus ended in utter
disaster to China the naval war.