“Quite correct, sir,” answered the skipper of the Fuji.
“Then,” said Togo, “do me the favour to read them over aloud, in Japanese, for the benefit of those officers who have been unable to closely follow Mr Swinburne’s English.”
This was done; and when Matsumoto sat down there was silence for a few moments, succeeded by a faint murmur of applause. Then the Admiral rose.
“Gentlemen,” he said, “you have now all spoken; and I tender you my most hearty thanks for the frank expression of your several opinions. I have listened with the greatest interest and satisfaction to everything that has been said, but you must pardon me if I say at once, frankly, that you leave me as unconvinced as ever. Or, no; not unconvinced; on the contrary, I am more convinced than ever that, apart, as Mr Swinburne has remarked, from any question of slavish obedience to orders, I should be guilty of a serious, even disastrous, error of judgment, were I to take my battleships and cruisers into Port Arthur roads and give battle to the Russian fleet. The only alternative is to employ the destroyers; and I shall be glad of any suggestions you may be pleased to offer as to the best method of attack.”
Nobody spoke. It was easy to see that the officers of the battleships and cruisers, deeply imbued with the somewhat fantastic and high-flown ideas of the Japanese with regard to the almost divine virtue of heroism and self-sacrifice, were profoundly disappointed that they were not to be afforded an opportunity to display their possession of those virtues.
“Has no one a suggestion to offer?” demanded Togo, in a tone of surprise. “What say you, Swinburne?” turning to me.
“It would greatly help us, sir,” I said, “if Hang-won could give us even an approximate idea of the position of the Russian ships in the roadstead.”
“You are right, sir; it would,” answered the Admiral. And turning to the Chinaman, he addressed to him a question in what I imagined to be Chinese. The man was replying at some length when Togo interrupted him and turned to the skipper of the flagship.
“Captain Ijichi,” said he, “a chart of Port Arthur, if you please.”
The chart was brought, and Hang-won, after poring over it awhile, took a pencil and with meticulous care jotted down certain marks upon it. When he had finished, Togo turned to me and said:
“Here we are, Mr Swinburne. These marks indicate the positions of some of the Russian ships, as nearly as Hang-won can remember them. As you see, they are moored in wedge-shaped formation, the point of the wedge to seaward; and that point is occupied by the Tsarevich, a battleship. Next her, inshore, comes the Poltava, also a battleship, then the Sevastopol, another battleship, and abreast of her, in the second line, the battleship Pobieda. Of the positions of these he is certain, he says, having taken particular notice of them as he came out; but of the rest he is not so sure, except that there are thirteen of them, exclusive of the Askold, all anchored inside the Tsarevich. The Askold is a cruiser, and according to Hang-won she is performing patrol duty to and fro, outside the rest of the fleet. You will readily recognise her from the fact that she is the only craft with five funnels.
“There is another point in favour of our employing destroyers. It appears that Admiral Stark sends out a destroyer flotilla every night to patrol the coast as far as Dalny—there it is, about twenty miles north-east of Port Arthur. If, upon approaching the roadstead, our boats show the lights usually exhibited by the Russian destroyers—a white light above a red—on their return from Dalny, they ought to be able to get right in among the Russian fleet and do a tremendous amount of damage before their identity is discovered, and I shall confidently look for important results accordingly. Now, gentlemen, I have my own idea as to how the attack should be conducted; but I have heard it said that in many councillors there is wisdom, therefore I should be glad to have your views on the subject.”
And, one after the other, the officers present gave them, the general opinion being that the destroyers ought to approach to within about five miles of the shore at a moderate speed, showing no lights; then dash in at top speed, discharging torpedoes right and left, and continue to do so, regardless of consequences, until every Russian ship was destroyed.
Finally, I was called for to give my opinion; and again I found myself obliged to differ from the others.
“If I were leading the attack, sir,” I said, “I should time myself to arrive at about eleven o’clock, that being the time, I imagine, when the banquet and the special performance will both be at their height. At the distance of about five miles from the shore I should slow down, instead of increasing speed, because I should then have no fear of flames escaping from my funnels and so betraying my approach. I should then divide my force into two, one of which should sweep well away to the nor’ard, while the other sheered off toward the south, my object being to get my boats well into the concealment of the shadow of the high land east and west of the roadstead. Under the cover of this shadow I should creep close along shore until I was well inside the enemy’s fleet, when I should wheel outward, get good way on my boats, and torpedo the enemy, ship after ship, as I came out. By this plan I should be heading seaward, ready to make good my escape as soon as the alarm was given, which I believe will be within a few seconds after the first torpedo is fired. Then I should run for it out to sea, at top speed; for I am convinced that, once the alarm is given and the searchlights are turned on, we shall be afforded no further opportunity to do mischief; and I see no sense in sacrificing ships and lives uselessly. I have heard the remark made, more than once, that it is a glorious thing to die for one’s country and one’s Emperor. So it is—when the sacrifice of one’s life is necessary to secure a certain object; but I maintain that it is still more glorious to live for one’s country. One live man can render more useful service to his country than a hundred dead ones.”
Again there was a little half-hearted murmur of applause.
But Togo expressed his approval in no half-hearted manner. Dashing his fist upon the table he exclaimed:
“By Hachiman Sama!” (the Japanese god of War), “you are right, Mr Swinburne. You told us, a little while ago, that you are only a boy, but you have the brains and wisdom of a man, sir. Your plan of attack is the right one—cannot you see that it is, gentlemen?—and it shall be followed. By attempting the other plan, we should in all probability lose every boat and every man, with no better result; while, by adopting Mr Swinburne’s plan, we may save at least two-thirds of them. Now, gentlemen, before we terminate the council, has any one a better plan to propose?” And he glanced round the cabin, inquiringly.
No one answered. Then Captain Matsumoto, commanding the battleship Fuji, rose.
“As one whose knowledge of the august English language is perhaps superior to that of most present—your honourable self, sir, excepted,” he said, addressing the Admiral, “I should like to say that I have listened to the remarks of the honourable commander of the Kasanumi with profound interest. His doctrine, that it is more glorious to live than to die for one’s Emperor, is a new one to us Japanese, and I confess that for the moment it shocked me, as I saw that it shocked most of us. But, if one comes to reflect, one sees that there is sound sense in it; therefore I should like to record my entire approval of the projected plan of attack upon the enemy’s fleet. For, by adopting it, there is a good prospect that many lives and many craft, which would otherwise be uselessly sacrificed, may be preserved to render further valuable service to Japan and its Emperor.”