Chapter XXVII
THE RUSSIAN ARMY RETIRES ON LIAO-YANG.
Although the centre of their right flank had been forced, there appeared no urgent reason for the Russians to withdraw beyond the river. There were hills in front capable of defence, and our losses had been heavy. For the explanation we must look to the right, where the Twelfth Division was driving back the enemy upon the Tang-ho and menacing his flank near Am-ping. At dawn on the 26th our right wing made connexion with the centre and opened its attack on Hanyaling. The country is furrowed with narrow ravines, out of which spring precipitous heights, on which the enemy were strongly entrenched. Moreover, the Russians fought with splendid courage, and with determination born of the knowledge that this Pass was the key to the first line of their Eastern defence. East and South-east of Am-ping were field batteries that gave great assistance in checking our advance.
[Illustration:
BATTLE --OF-- LIAO-YANG
DRAWN BY A JAPANESE OFFICER.]
“Do you think you will take the position to-day?” asked a foreign _attaché_, speaking to a private.
The soldier hesitated, after the manner of the Japanese.
“Yes; I think so. But to-day the Russians are very obstinate!”
Dense fog hid the enemy late in the afternoon, and the movement was suspended. Yet through the night a fierce struggle went on for possession of a ridge on which the Russians, deeming the height unassailable, had posted a field battery. It was rash, however, to set limits to the capacity of mountaineers like those in General Inouye’s command. The hill was stormed; was defended with stones and avalanches of rock, and was captured. From the summit the victors hurled stones upon the enemy, whose energies were concentrated on flight, and both slopes were quickly strewn with dying men. The wounds inflicted by the rocks were terrible, and the mortality was greater than it could have been from rifle fire. Two counter attacks were made and repulsed, and seven field guns of the latest pattern fell into the hands of the Japanese. When darkness put an end to the fight this was the state of affairs:--The Russian centre and left were withdrawing to their second line beyond the Tang-ho, leaving a force among the lower hills to cover the retirement, and their right was falling slowly back along the Pekin road. Our right was pressing hard on the enemy’s flank; our centre occupied the position evacuated by the Russians, and our left was preparing to follow up the advantage with a vigorous bombardment, when rain and mist descended upon the battlefield.
At eleven o’clock next morning the enemy began to retire across the Tang-ho under cover of guns posted South-east of Am-ping. The movement was cleverly made, and the spectacle was one of the most remarkable witnessed during the war.
For five long months we had lived in the mountains. Day after day we had toiled and sweated up the hillsides, and always our vision had been bounded by a narrow horizon. We had grown weary of prison ranges and a world that was a tumultuous sea of green. We panted for the freedom of the plains, for a distant horizon and unfettered vision. And here they lay before us. It was on the morning of August 27th that we had our first glimpse of the great plain that stretches North to the fringe of the Gobi desert. It looked unreal--a mirage of yellow and green fading into infinite space. The mountain on which we stood, among gruesome evidences of the combat, was veiled in mist that rolled aside like a curtain and revealed the panorama of hill and valley. Bending like a bow to the East the river Tang gleamed like an opal set in narrow bands of emerald and gold. Along the near bank moved dark lines of men and horses and wagons, stretching for miles till they vanished behind the spur of a hill, and crossing over by a bridge, reappeared on the plain beyond. In an unbroken stream they flowed past the white tents in the bed of the river and vanished once more among the trees of a village on the plain. From the mountains about Am-ping descended tributary rivulets of men and horses, and away to our right tiny clouds of white vapour on the dark slopes and crest showed that the Japanese were encouraging them to flight. What a target they made, and what havoc might have been wrought by a few well-placed guns of long range! How great would have been the spoils! How complete the victory! Again and again did the Japanese bemoan the fate that had given them guns of short range and light projectile. Pursuit was out of the question, for the enemy, conscious of immunity from shell fire, concentrated his force with exasperating deliberation, being fully alive to the fact that in their present formation the Japanese would never venture to follow. All we could do was to look upon the spectacle, and moralise on the subject of long range artillery.
We had driven the enemy across the Tang-ho, but they still held the heights North and West of Am-ping and had a second line of defensive works beyond the river. A great change, however, had come over the whole situation. The armies of the West and South had encountered the Russians at Anshantien and found them loth to venture on a decisive issue. At half-past six o’clock on the evening of August 27th, General Kuroki received the following message from Field Marshall Oyama:--“The enemy at Anshantien has begun to retire. This may be the effect of the First Army’s attack on its flank. I have given orders to the Second and Fourth Armies to pursue.” Upon this came another communication from Grand Head Quarters:--“The retreat of the enemy is confirmed. The Second and Fourth Armies are pursuing.” Before the advancing legions of Japan the enemy were fleeing toward Liao-yang and their last defences.
The news was startling, for it had long been known that the Russians had made defensive works at Anshantien, where they were expected to offer a stubborn resistance. That they should abandon this strong position without a struggle was proof that the First Army had done its work well, and had inspired the enemy with fear lest Anshantien might be turned. The situation called for prompt and energetic action. If the Russians had made up their minds to evacuate Liao-yang and to fall back upon Mukden without striking a blow there was imminent risk that all our schemes and sacrifices of the last three months would come to naught and that our prey would escape the net spread for him. Liao-yang without Russian guns and captives would be a poor reward at the end of five months’ successful campaigning. Two alternatives presented themselves. By overtaking the enemy we might compel him to accept battle at Liao-yang, or we might engage him in a rear guard action and detach a strong force to cross the Tai-tsu and strike North at his communications. The position demanded a General of daring and resource.
Having withdrawn to their entrenched line at Shou-shan the Russians were content with holding the defences North of the Tang-ho only long enough to ensure the orderly retirement of their forces in the neighbourhood of Am-ping. General Kuroki gave instant orders for the occupation of the line from the North-east of Sobyoshi to Kosanshi through Daisekimon. This advance met with feeble opposition. Our work on the 28th of August was comparatively easy. We were in possession of the South bank of the river, with our centre a little way to the West of Am-ping, and our left wing established across the Pekin road.
On the morning of the 28th I rode toward Am-ping to witness the passage of the Tang-ho and found myself within fifteen hundred yards of the Russian trenches. In the valley behind me, sheltered by a precipitous mountain slope, was a Japanese field battery, and half a mile in front of it, among some trees near a rocky mound, were two batteries, the fire of which was directed against a bold ridge on the opposite side of the river. No enemy was visible, though the trenches could be seen, and an officer on the hill before me signalling to the batteries. By the way, the Japanese have many things to learn in the art of communication on the battle field. They never use the heliograph, and only twice have I seen signalling by flags. The range and direction of the guns were shouted along a line of men posted at regular intervals on the slope and in the valley--a slow and cumbersome process. The shelling continued, and suddenly out of the trenches rose a considerable number of the enemy, who fled up the hill pursued by shrapnel that did little harm. Away on the left front a similar incident happened, though in this case nearly a battalion was dislodged and had to climb slowly up a precipice, where they offered a splendid target. Once more shrapnel demonstrated how ineffective it can be even at close range. A single common shell would have done more damage than scores of rounds of shrapnel.
Before noon our troops had marched through Am-ping and crossed the Tang-ho at a deep ford. Am-ping is a type of all Chinese towns and has a very prosperous appearance. The houses are substantially built, and those of the merchants are surrounded with high walls, loop-holed and crennelated for defence against bandits and raiders. General Kuropatkin had lodged in the largest of these houses two or three days before and drank tea in the courtyard surrounded by flowers. The town escaped occupation by the Japanese, for at noon General Kuroki received the following orders:--“First Army sweep the enemy from its front and prepare to cross to the right bank of the Tai-tsu as quickly as possible. Second and Fourth Armies expect to attack Liao-yang, taking the positions Sofanton, Otoen, Shaka, and eight kilometres North-west of Shaka.”