Battles of the Nineteenth Century,

Page 285

The Chino-Japanese War

             In the summer of 1894 the long standing rivalry between China and Japan ended in a war, the immediate cause of which was a dispute about the conflicting claims of the two Governments in Korea.  The Japanese landed troops at Chemulpo, the port of Seoul, seized the palace of the Korean King, and obtained from the new ministry they placed in power an order to expel the Chinese from the country.  The Japanese fleet prevented the arrival of Chinese reinforcements, the transport Kowshing being sunk at sea by a Japanese cruiser even before the war was declared.  On July 29^th General Oshima drove the Chinese from Asan.  The remnant of their army escaped northwards to Ping-yang.  Although fighting had taken place by land and sea, war was not formally declared till August 1^st.

             War having been declared, the Japanese Government began to despatch large reinforcements to Korea, not merely with a view to holding Seoul against the Chinese, but with the object of driving them out of the country and carrying the war into Manchuria.

             A Chinese force, the numbers of which were enormously exaggerated by current report, had advanced from the Yalu River to Ping-yang, where it had reinforced by troops sent across the sea from Taku, and by the detachment that Yeh had saved from the lost battle near Asan.  Ping-yang, a walled city of about 20,000 inhabitants, was a place famous in the history of Korea.  It had once been the capital of the country in the days before Seoul became the residence of the Court.  When the Japanese invaded Korea at the end of the sixteenth century, they had captured Ping-yang, but this had marked the furthest limit of their conquests.  In 1592 they had been attacked and defeated by a mixed Chinese and Korean army on the hilly ground about Mount Mok-tan, “the Hill of Peonies,” just outside the northern walls of the city.

             Ping-yang stands on the right or west bank of the Tatung River, a wide and deep stream which makes a deep bend and almost in closes it on three sides.  The shape of the walled city is flattened oval, the one of the longer sides lying along the riverbank.  At the north end the ground rises sharply to Mount Mok-tan, but all round the country is hilly.  The Chinese did not rely for the defence of the city on its ancient fortifications, which consisted of a high embattled wall, with numerous gates, each crowned by a pagoda-like ornamental structure of painted and gilded woodwork.  They had erected a number of square earthwork forts on and around Mount Mok-tan, and on the lower ground between the wall and the river at the south end of the town.  There was a bridge of boats across the river, and at the further end of this they had erected another group of forts, with two advanced works to watch the high road to the south and to Seoul.  Several Krupp guns, mostly of small calibre, were mounted in these new fortifications.

             The best troops in the force assembled for the defence of the city were 3,000 partly drilled Manchus under General Tso.  Besides these, there was another corps of 1,500 men from Moukden city, 6,000 men from the province of Pe-ch-li under General Wei, 2,000 from Port Arthur, and about 1,000 more whom General Yeh had brought from Asan.  On the strength of his alleged success over the Japanese, Yeh was given the chief command. 

             Meanwhile, the Japanese army in Korea had been largely reinforced.  At the beginning of the crisis a small detachment had been landed at Fusan in the extreme south of the peninsula to protect the Japanese trading colony in the port.  On august 6^th General Nodzu arrived there with the greater part of the 5^th Division, and next day began to march northwards to Seoul, which was held by Oshima’s brigade.  Nodzu’s force could have reached the Korean capital much more quickly by going by sea to Chemulpo; but at this stage of the war, while the Chinese fleet was still intact, it was not considered advisable to send all the transports into the Yellow Sea.  Besides, it was felt that a march through Southern Korea would discourage the local adherents of the Chinese faction and establish Japanese influence in the district.  Nodzu reached Seoul on the 19^th, and took over the supreme command of the Japanese forces.  Two other small detachments were landed at Gensan on the east coast.  One of these pushed on to Seoul.  The other marched towards Ping-yang to co-operate from the eastward in the coming attack on that place.

            Oshiima had sent two of his officers with a small party of cavalry northwards to reconnoitre Ping-yang.  These were cut off and killed to a man by a much stronger detachment of Chinese sent out from the city by General Yeh, who reported the incident as a great victory over a large force of the invaders.

            By the end of August General Nodzu was ready to begin active operations against Yeh and the Ping-yang garrison.  Two roads, or rather tracks, run through the hilly country from Seoul to Ping –yang, one near the sea, the other further inland through the town of Sakriong.  A column of all arms under General Tachimi had already been pushed forward to Sak-riong by the inner road.  Nodzu’s plan was that Tachimi should continue his advance by this line, while he with the main body marched by the other road.  A third column under Colonel Sato was to advance from Genson.  All three columns were to be in the neighbourhood of Ping-yang by September 14^th.  Nodzu would then leave Oshima to make an attack next day on the southern defences of Ping-yang, while he with the main body, having crossed the Tatung below the rown, would attack the place from the eastward, and Sato would attack from the north, assisted by Tachimi, who was to cross the river above the town.  He hoped that he would thus not merely get possession of Ping-yang, but also captures the whole of Yeh’s army.  

              Against a better organised and better trained force than that which held Ping-yang this combined movement of several columns converging by widely separated roads upon the fortress would have been a risky business.  If Yeh had been a European commander, he would have fallen upon Sato’s column before Nodzu and Tachimi were able to give it any help.  But in adopting this pan the Japanese commander acted on the knowledge he possessed of his opponents character, and his daring acceptance of a theoretical risk was justified by the result.

              Yeh pushed some small detachments along the roads towards Seoul to delay the Japanese advance, and there were consequently some unimportant skirmishes in which Oshima’s brigade played the chief part.  It occupied Chung-hua on September 10^th, Nodzu with the main body turning to the left at Hwang-ju, ten miles further south, in order to cross the Tatung River near its mouth.  As Oshima’s men approached Chung-hua they found the road strewn with the oilpaper cap covers worn by the Chinese troops in wet weather.  The Korean peasants explained that a Chinese force, which had just retreated towards Ping-yang after a night alarm, in which the various regiments in camp had fired into each other in the dark, had thrown these and other minor articles of equipment away.

             On the 12^th Oshima’s brigade came in slightly of the southern forts of Ping-yang, and during this and the next two days it did its best to mislead the Chinese into the belief that it had the main body behind it and was preparing to rush the southern defences and force the crossing of the river just below the town.  Reconnaissances were pushed close up to the enemy’s works, and there was some sharp skirmishing.  The artillery opened on the forts in order to draw their fire and ascertain how they were armed, and a party of daring volunteers swam the river under fire and brought back five large junks from the other side.  Thus the attention of the Chinese was riveted on the immediate neighbourhood of Ping-yang, and they knew nothing of the passage of the river near its mouth by the main body.  This was a tedious operation extending over three days, for the river was 1,000 yards wide, its muddy banks were not easy of access, and the number of boats available was insufficient for rapid transit.

             The small column, advancing from Sak-riong under General Tachimi, crossed the Tatung River some miles above Ping-yang on the 13^th after dispersing by long-range rifle volleys a Chinese detachment that tried to hold the opposite bank.  On the 14^th Tachimi’s vanguard came in sight of Ping-yang, but he kept his men concealed in the hills to the north of the town.  Colonial Sato, with the Gensan column, was near at hand on Tachimi’s right.  During his advance, Sato had only encountered some small cavalry detachments of the enemy.  On the evening of the 14^th the Japanese forces were thus close in to Ping-yang; but the Chinese system of outposts was so hopelessly bad that they were only aware of the presence of Oshima’s brigade, which they took to be the vanguard of the main attack, coming as they expected from the south.

             On the night of the 14^th, the eve of the battle, the position and strength of the Japanese forces were: -

(A)  Southeast of Ping-yang on the left bank of the Tatung-General Oshima’s brigade (five battalions of infantry, a squadron of cavalry, and two batteries of artillery; the infantry of this brigade had not yet received all their reserve men); total strength 3,500 men and twelve guns.

(B)   On the right bank, north of Ping-yang (i) On the left, general Tachimi’s column (two battalions, one battery, two troops of cavalry); total strength, 2,160 men and six guns.  (2) On the right, Colonel Sato’s column (three battalions, one troop, two batteries); total strength 3,640 men and twelve guns.

(C)  On the right bank, southwest of Ping-yang-General Nodzu with the main body (four battalions, two squadrons, two batteries); total strength, 5,400 men and twelve guns.

              Thus then entire force available for the attack amounted to about 14,000 men with forty-two guns.  But on account of the long delay in the crossing of the Tatung River the greater part of General Nodzu’s column was so far away that it could not hope to come into action till late on the 15^th, the day originally fixed for the attack.  On the afternoon of September 14^th Nodzu sent orders to Oshima to continue to engage the enemy’s attention during the following day, but to postpone the real attack till the 16^th.  Unfortunately there was no means of communicating this counter order to Sato and Tachimi.  Though they were so close at hand, connection had not been established with them either by messengers or signallers.  The commanders of the other columns only knew that they must be not far off of the northward.  With a more enterprising enemy than the Chinese this want of connection between the columns might have had fatal consequences.  As it was, General Oshima saw the obvious danger of deferring the attack, and, “in acknowledging the receipt of the order, pointed out that, in all probability, The Gensan and Sak-riong detachments would attack on the 15^th as previously arranged, and that if this was the case he would feel bound to give them all the assistance he could, especially as the main column would be unable to co-operate.”

              The night was fine and clear, the full moon shining brightly in the sky.  An hour before sawn Oshima, who was eager to attack at all hazards, had got his men ready to advance, and at half past four his guns renewed the bombardment of the southern forts.  From the hills to the northward beyond the river could be heard the booming of another cannonade.  Tachimi and Sato were in position, and as soon as Oshima’s guns opened fire they had brought their batteries into action, and had begun to from their infantry for the attack.  Oshima in his turn, on hearing their fire, ordered his brigade to advance against the Chinese forts, and so in the grey dawn of September 15^th the battle of Ping-yang began.

             As soon as the firing commenced, General Yeh and his staff went to the gaily-painted pagoda at the north gate.  His banner, of bright crimson clothe, twelve Feet Square, and bearing his name in huge characters, hung over the outer wall.  Close by he had a large body of Manchu cavalry ready to charge out on the Japanese if they failed in their attack.  He had about 2,500 men in the works on the left bank, 3,600 in the northern defences, and about 6,000 of Li Hung Chang’s drilled troops holding the town wall and the southern defences near the river.

             Oshima’s attack on the forts of the left bank was intended to be mere feint, but such was the eagerness of both men and officers that they pushed it home, and actually got possession of some of the outworks, in the first dash made before the sun rose.  But for hours they made no further progress.  The Chinese, armed with Mausers and well supplied with cartridges, kept up a heavy fire, and only for the advantage that their well-served artillery gave them they would have been driven back.  At it was, they were barely able to hold their ground, and at one moment the outlook was so doubtful that one of the regiments buried its colours lest they should fall into the hands of the Chinese.  The only portion of Oshima’s command that obtained any decided success was a detachment of two companies under Major Okuyama, which crossed the river below the town, in order to get in touch with Nodzu the main attack, and succeeded in setting fire to the straw roofed houses of the southern suburbs of Ping Yang.

             Meanwhile, Tachimi and Sato’s columns had been more successful in their attack on the northern forts, five in number, three in the outer line and two others crowning the Mount of Peonies, famous as the scene of Konishi’s defeat three hundred years ago.  The first fort was rushed in the twilight; the second, after being heavily bombarded, was stormed at half past seven, and the third was taken half an hour later.  Covered by their artillery, which was well placed among the pines on the ridges to the north of the city, the Japanese now advanced against the two inner forts.  The Chinese abandoned the smaller of them, and the Peony Fort was stormed at half past eight, the Japanese, to use their own expression, swarming up three sides of the hill like ants.  The guns were then brought up to the Mount of Peonies and opened on the city wall and the northern gate, the infantry pouring in a heavy rifle fire wherever the defenders attempted a reply.

            It was not till near eight o’clock that General Nodzu had enough troops in hand to begin the attack on the southwest end of Ping-yang.  After a brief bombardment of the outworks he deployed his infantry for the attack.  The Manchu cavalry, who came rushing out from one of the gates, gallantly charged them but these daring horsemen were received with such a fire that few of them escaped.  Of these the greater part gained the open country, and rode away northwards to join the army on the Yalu.  One by one the outlying works were abandoned, and the Chinese gradually concentrated their defence on the high wall of the city.

            The sky had become over clouded since early morning, and about noon a storm burst over Ping-yang.  Then ensued a curious scene.  “Shortly after midday,” wrote the Standard correspondent, “the dense fog of smoke, which had been slowly drifting eastward, was broken up by an almost tropical downpour.  The Chinese troops put up their oiled-paper umbrellas and resolved to keep their bodies dry as well as their powder.  This seems almost too grotesque to be true, but it is a fact.  Their spacious umbrellas, sticking above the walls of their trenches, formed excellent targets for the Japanese sharpshooters.  Chinese soldiers are miserable, depressed creatures in the rain, and this unfortunate downpour had not a little to do with the success of the Japanese attack at this period.”  The forts on the high ground at the south of the city were captured, and then the Chinese hung out white flags, and the firing ceased for awhile, and a Chinese officer with a flag of truce came out in front of Nodzu’s attack.  To quote the Standard correspondent, Mr. Villiers, again:

             “Some Japanese officers left their lines and met him halfway.  They found the Chinese asked for a suspension of hostilities pending an arrangement to surrender.  The Japanese pointed out that this could easily be done.  The Chinese had simply to lay down their arms, and the Japanese would march in and take possession.  The Chinese general sent word to say that they could not very well surrender in such rainy weather.  His men would get drenched, and things would be generally uncomfortable.  Would they wait, say, for twelve hours?  The rain might lift by then.  But the Japanese would not listen further to the parley, and hostilities recommenced.”

                The cavalry attempted another sortie, probably in the hope of clearing a way for a general retreat.  There were about five hundred of them.  They rode gallantly down on Nodzu’s infantry, but were swept away almost to a man by the Japanese rifles.  On the north side of the city the fire had ceased from the wall, and the great gate seemed to be abandoned.  But this might be only a trick of the wily Chinese, and after an attempt to open the gate from the outside, which drew a fire from some of the neighbouring loopholes, a gallant soldier, a private named Hirada, volunteered to climb the wall and reconnoitre.  His comrades watched him anxiously as he scrambled up the high wall beside the pagoda-crowned gateway, from which the dragon flag still flew.  He found the parapet deserted, got down and unbolted the gate, and the Japanese infantry rushed in.  The Chinese retired to some houses at a distance inside the gate.  They had fired at Hirada as he was opening it, and they now exchanged a sharp fire with the advancing Japanese.  Beyond this point the Japanese made no progress during the afternoon; and as the walls and towers on the right and left were held by the Chinese, and they were rallying in the streets, Tachimi decided to fall back on the Peony Mount, and hold on there till the main attack had made further progress.  This retirement after the gate had been forced shows that the Japanese had still a good deal of respect for their opponents.  But the next day was to bring a surprise.

              “When morning dawned,” writes the correspondent we have already quoted, “Ping-yang was silent.  No reveille from the Chinese line heralded the day.  Down by the western gate was a village smouldering.  Here and there a hut was struggling to burst into flame, for the rain had now ceased, and the pull of smoke still hung over the valley.  The saddened turf, the fields of millet, beans, and corn, wore the imprint of a great host having passed over the country.  The roads, the trails through the fields, were strewn with bright and gaudy uniforms.  Flags, quaint spears, curious old time muskets, swords, pots and pans, a several curiously carved carriage chairs were sticking in the mud.  The Japanese army awoke to this strange sight, rubbed it eyes and wondered, then sounded the advance, and closed upon the city.  The earthworks, the redoubts, and the city itself were empty.  The Chinese army had disappeared.  Some 12,000 men had stolen away in the night.  He who fights and runs away lives to fight another day.  So, I believe, runs the old adage.  These are the tactics the Chinese have followed since the beginning of the campaign.  It was so at Asan, where General Yeh stole out of the clutches of the Japanese with one thousand troops.  These very men, after a splendid march through the roughest and most inhospitable part of Korea, reached Ping-yang to meet the Japanese again, and, with, the rest of Ping-yang garrison, succeeded in again carrying out the tactics they followed at Asan.”

             On the Japanese side 633 men had fallen in the attack.  Of these 8 officers and 154 men were killed.  Oshima’s brigade suffered most severely.  Fully three-fourths of the loss fell upon it, and the general himself was slightly wounded.  The Chinese loss cannot be so accurately stated.  It was certainly over a thousand, besides more than six hundred prisoners.  The Japanese acknowledge that the Chinese fought bravely.  They give especial praised to the Chinese general Taso.  During the defence of the Peony Hill Fort he was badly wounded, but tearing off a strip of his long robe he bound up his wound and continued to encourage his men.  Another bullet struck him down dead, and on this his men gave way.  To his fall the Japanese attribute their easy capture of the fort.  A few of the prisoners who tried to escape were beheaded, the rest were well treated.  At trophies of the fight the Japanese had thirty-five Krupp guns, about 500 Mauser repeating rifles, and as many good modern breech-loaders, quantities of older weapons, flags, cartridges and money.

             The collapse of the Chinese defence has been explained by two facts.  In the first place the defences were on such an extensive scale that not one of them were fully manned.  Instead of twelve or fourteen thousand men, the forts and lines of Ping-yang would have needed thirty-five thousand.  Again, the Chinese had expanded all their energy on fortification, and made little or no efforts to clear the front of their works.  Trees were left standing in the dense pine woods on the ridges that came close up to the works, and thus the Japanese as they marched on the place were screened almost entirely from view, and had a good deal of cover from fire.