Part 16

Tokyo, capital of Japan, lies at the head of Tokyo Bay, in the south-east of Nippon. Its two million inhabitants are distributed among houses and streets which present curious intermixtures of Japanese and European architecture, customs, or science. The jinrikisha notably has been displaced largely by tramcars which, carrying all passengers at a uniform rate of four sen, make it possible to travel ten miles for a penny. It is an industrial city, but on account of occasional earthquakes no very large buildings line the thoroughfares. The traveller can here observe to advantage the strange characteristics of the most stoical race upon earth, or can contrast, if he will, the courteous, imperturbably serene disposition of the most martial nation of the East with the present disposition of the most rabidly bellicose nation of the West. When Japanese and German, indeed, met in conflict before Tsing-tao in the autumn of 1914, there was seen, in the Japanese soldier, during a campaign of peculiar hardship and difficulty, a revival of the qualities of the old Samurai, with his quiet courage, his burning patriotism, his patience, his habitual suppression of emotional display singularly distinct from those of the modern Goth. Nor was the statesmanship which brought about that conflict less admirable. Japan's alliance with Great Britain was at once a solemn pledge and the guiding principle of her foreign policy. August 1914 found British interests and the vast trade that centred at Hong-kong in danger: German armed vessels prowled the seas, and the German naval base of Tsing-tao was busy with warlike preparations. Great Britain appealed to Japan to free their joint commerce from the menace. The Japanese Prime Minister, Count Okuma, might well hesitate, however, before recommending intervention. Was he the right minister to direct a war? He was nearer eighty than seventy years old, and recently had been for seven years in retirement: his Government had a minority in the Diet, and to the Genro his name was anathema: he claimed the allegiance of no party, and the powerful military and naval clans, Choshiu and Satsuma, were openly hostile. He had been raised to power a few months before by public demand for progressive government. There were considerations other than domestic or personal, indeed, which might have tempted some statesmen to hold their hands. To temporize while events revealed themselves in Europe would be safer than immediate action; while to remain neutral might lead to the transference to the Japanese of much trade with China now in British hands, inevitably hampered by the menace of German commerce-destroyers. Nevertheless, Count Okuma's Cabinet came to a bold and loyal decision. Baron Kato, the Foreign Minister, reassured Great Britain of active Japanese aid, and on August 15 sent an ultimatum to Germany. The latter was requested to withdraw at once all German armed vessels from Eastern waters, and to deliver to Japan before September 15 the entire leased territory of Kiao-chau, with a view to its eventual restoration to China. The ultimatum was timed to expire at noon on August 23. That day arrived without satisfaction having been given to Japan. Within a few hours the 2nd Japanese squadron steamed off towards Tsing-tao.

[Sidenote: German Pacific squadron sails.]

[Sidenote: Tsing-tao's importance.]

[Sidenote: Germans prepare defense.]

[Sidenote: Japanese warships approach.]

Before the outbreak of hostilities with Great Britain, Vice-Admiral the Graf von Spee, who commanded the German Pacific squadron, had steamed away from Tsing-tao with most of his ships. To use Tsing-tao as a naval base while engaging in commerce-raiding seemed a sound and a practicable plan, since the British and Australian naval forces, though superior, were hardly strong enough simultaneously to blockade the harbour and to search the seas. The plan was, however, rendered impossible by the Japanese ultimatum, and the Admiral, after having lingered for some weeks in the Western Pacific, departed for other seas and other adventures. Such was the result of Japan's action, and thus dangerous were the tactics that Japan's action had frustrated. For Tsing-tao, situated upon one of the two peninsulas, divided by two miles of waterway, enclosing the bay of Kiao-chau, with its safe and spacious anchorage for vessels of any size, constituted one of the most important naval bases on the Chinese coast. It had, indeed, been described as the key to Northern China. Dominating the eastern coast of the Shantung peninsula, the port formed the centre of the semicircular area known as Kiao-chau, extending on a radius of 32 miles around the shores of the bay, with a population of 60,000. This area was, under the Chinese German agreement as to Tsing-tao, influenced and controlled by Germany, though not strictly subject to her, and regarded as neutral territory. Its surface was mainly mountainous and bare, though the lowlands were well cultivated, but in parts it was rich in mineral wealth, large but undeveloped supplies of coal being present. In winter the port, connected to the junction of Tsi-nan by a German-built railway, was the natural outlet for the trade of Northern China. The heights which surrounded the bay offered admirable sites for fortification, while the land-approaches to Tsing-tao were guarded by formidable defences stretched across its peninsula. In many quarters the stronghold was regarded as a second Port Arthur. The Germans had paid particular attention to defence, so much so, indeed, that over five-sixths of the white inhabitants were engaged in military occupations. Five thousand German marines constituted the normal garrison, though the outbreak of war in August called about a thousand more men--volunteers, reservists, and sailors--to the colours. The complement of the _Kaiserin Elizabeth_, an Austrian cruiser sheltering in the harbour, left for Tientsin, having received orders to disarm their ship, but returned in time to join the defenders. The garrison was amply provisioned for five or six months, and well provided with weapons, stores, and munitions. Most of the German ships off the Chinese coast at the outbreak of war, indeed, had made immediately for Tsing-tao, and discharged upon its wharves many thousand tons of cargo. When war with Japan became inevitable, therefore, the defenders could anticipate a successful resistance, provided the expected instantaneous victories in Europe materialized. Elaborate preparations were made for the defence. The harbour mouth was blocked by three sunken vessels, enabling only small craft to enter. Chinese villages within the leased territory, and the bridge where the railway crossed the boundary, were destroyed, partial compensation being paid to the inhabitants. Native labourers were engaged to throw up earthworks to strengthen the town fortifications. Many foreigners, women, children, and non-combatants, meanwhile, had left the town. On Friday evening, August 21, at roll-call, the Governor, Captain Meyer-Waldeck, read out a message from the German Emperor exhorting the garrison to defend the town to their utmost, and to do their 'duty to the last'. It was listened to stoically. The following day a diversion occurred which opened hostilities propitiously for the Germans. The British destroyer _Kennet_, encountering the German destroyer _S. 90_ off the coast, gave chase. The _S. 90_ immediately made for port, and the _Kennet_, in the ardour of pursuit, closed in unawares within range of the German land batteries. The latter opened fire, and before she could draw off the _Kennet_ sustained ten casualties, though little material damage. Next day the term of the Japanese ultimatum expired. It was doubtful at what point the Japanese would begin operations, or what tactics they would adopt. The fear was prevalent among Germans that the enemy would enter Chinese territory to reach the town from the land: newspapers under German influence, indeed, circulating in Chinese coast towns, started a press campaign with the object of stirring the Chinese Government to oppose by force any Japanese landing in her territory. Outposts were placed by the Germans along the shores of the neutral zone to watch for developments: they descried, on August 24, the approach of Japanese warships.

Vice-Admiral Sadakichi Kato, who commanded the approaching squadron, immediately upon arrival took measures to protect himself against danger from mines. Seven islets clustering round the mouth of Kiao-chau Bay were occupied, to form a convenient local naval base, while mine-sweepers swept the surrounding seas. No less than a thousand mines were taken from the water. A blockade of the whole Kiao-chau coast was declared, as commencing from 9 a.m., August 27, and war vessels patrolled the shores, some seventy miles long. Action soon began, and continued during ensuing days, with shells that at intervals screamed towards the town. The position was, however, reconnoitred carefully. Japanese airmen went up frequently to scan the fortifications and to drop bombs. All protruding structures, spires and factory-chimneys, had been levelled to the ground by the Germans so as to afford no mark for fire. Bombs were dropped on the railway station and on one of the numerous barrack buildings. The operations continued spasmodically into September, while Kato was awaiting the approach by land of a co-operating army, which had now disembarked on the northern coast of the Shantung peninsula, about 150 miles due north of Tsing-tao.

[Sidenote: Landing effected.]

[Sidenote: Floods hinder advance.]

The landing was effected on September 2, without hindrance or opposition on the part of the Chinese. The Government, following the precedent of the Russo-Japanese War, immediately published a declaration refusing to hold itself responsible for the obligations of strict neutrality in areas that formed, within Lung-kow, Lai-chau, and the neighbourhood of Kiao-chau Bay, passage-ways essential to the belligerent troops. It was, of course, incumbent upon the Powers involved to respect Chinese property and administrative rights. Japan, therefore, was permitted to make use of the main roads to transport an army to the rear of Tsing-tao. The forces landed composed a division numbering 23,000, and commanded by Lieutenant-General Mitsuomi Kamio. An advance-guard was sent forward without delay, but soon found its way rendered impassable by torrential floods which at this time swept down upon and devastated the province of Shantung, bridges, roads, and even villages being submerged and destroyed, with great loss of life, largely owing to Chinese official incompetence. The Japanese, after covering 20 kilometres in two days, reached a stream so swollen that crossing was impossible. The artillery had to return to Lung-kow. German diplomacy, meanwhile, exasperated at its inability to prevent a Japanese landing, had not been inactive.

[Sidenote: Chinese neutrality.]

[Sidenote: Rivalry of British and Japanese.]

[Sidenote: Japanese advance.]

The German and Austrian ministers at Peking, on hearing of the Japanese landing, protested strongly. China, it was claimed, ought to have forestalled and resisted the landing, but instead had deliberately extended the war-zone in order to facilitate Japanese movements. She would be held responsible for any injury to the German cause or property. To this China replied that, if it was incumbent upon her to prevent by force Japan operating in her territory, it was equally her duty to prevent by force Germany fortifying and defending Tsing-tao. China had endeavoured, indeed, but unsuccessfully, to preclude belligerent operations in her territory: only after the Japanese landing, when she was powerless to do otherwise, had she extended the zone of war. As to the responsibility, she reiterated her previous declaration. The baffled Germans fell back on threats: the right was reserved to visit upon China dire consequences for her alleged breach of neutrality. The incident, thrown into striking contrast with Germany's offer to Belgium, marked the unscrupulousness of German diplomacy, but stirred also many doubts among the foreign communities in China, in which the British, allied as they were to the Japanese, formed a predominating element. An anomaly of the situation was that British local interests had long conflicted with Japanese national interests. Japan's activities had, at every stage of her recent history, reduced British opportunities. Japanese trader competed with British trader for the markets of China, and Japan's share of the annual trade expansion was increasing, that of Great Britain decreasing. High tariffs and preferential rates had closed Corea and Manchuria to British enterprise. It is easy to estimate in what commercial jealousy and rivalry such circumstances had resulted. While the expediency of the British-Japanese alliance was fully recognized, and its consequences admitted to be the freedom of the China seas from menace of commerce-destroyers, nevertheless the fact remained that the hostilities against Tsing-tao would constitute a fresh impulse to Japanese expansion. The operations in Shantung were watched with critical eyes by many British in the foreign settlements of China. The floods had, meanwhile, subsided considerably, and on September 12 Japanese cavalry reached Tsimo, ten miles outside the Kiao-chau zone. No trace of the enemy north of the Pai-sha River had been seen, beyond a German aeroplane that occasionally passed overhead on reconnoitring flights. On the following day a number of sharp skirmishes with outposts occurred, and one Japanese patrol found its way to the small town of Kiao-chau, situated at the head of the bay, some 22 miles from Tsing-tao itself. The brushes with the Germans became of daily occurrence, and in one of them a high official of the German Legation at Peking, who had volunteered for service, was killed. On September 17 the Japanese attacked Wang-ko-huang, 13 miles from Tsimo, the enemy being in a fortified position and provided with machine-guns. At sunset, however, they abandoned the village and withdrew under cover of darkness, leaving behind quantities of equipment and supplies. A little later a development came about that brought the dissatisfaction of British traders to a head. About September 18, after hostile patrols had been driven away from the shore by the fire of destroyers, Japanese artillery and troops were landed at Laoshan Bay, north of Tsing-tao, just within the leased territory. Why was it necessary that troops should have been landed on the northern shore of the peninsula of Shantung, 150 miles from their objective, when guns could be disembarked with perfect safety on the eastern shore, not 40 miles from the objective, and within the German zone?

[Sidenote: A British force co-operates.]

The British were not as critical of Japan's strategy as they were suspicious of her policy. Dark suggestions got afoot that she had ulterior designs upon the whole Chinese province of Shantung. Such views could not but have reached the ears of the British authorities at Wei-hei-wei and elsewhere, nor could they have been deaf to previous murmurs. Diplomatic circles, however, could extend little sympathy to the critics. Nevertheless, it was undeniable that the latter were aggrieved, and that their attitude might produce unfortunate effects. If Great Britain herself took some share in the Tsing-tao operations, greater sympathy with their purpose might be induced, and a better state of feeling in the Orient between the two peoples might possibly result. It must have been some aim such as this that prompted the dispatch of a British force to the Tsing-tao area to co-operate with General Kamio, a step which the earlier symptoms of the British discontent cannot but have influenced. On September 19, however, 1,000 of the 2nd South Wales Borderers, a force so small as to be nominal, under Brigadier-General Barnardiston, left Tientsin and proceeded to Wei-hei-wei. Transport mules having here been taken on board, the expedition on September 22 coasted down the eastern shore of Shantung, and next day landed at Laoshan Bay. A month later, as will be seen, they were joined by 500 of the 36th Sikhs.

[Sidenote: Faint opposition.]

[Sidenote: Artillery battle.]

Meanwhile, it was probably about this time, or shortly after, that the _Triumph_, a British battleship of nearly 12,000 tons displacement, 19-1/2 knots speed, and four 10-inch guns primary armament, joined the Japanese squadron off Tsing-tao. A spasmodic bombardment had been maintained during the preceding weeks, and seaplanes had been busy, bombing and range-finding. The wireless station, the electric-power station, and several ships in harbour were damaged by explosive missiles. Little could be done, however, from the sea alone, and the attack by land, owing largely to transport difficulties, had still to develop. But the weather was now improving considerably. Another set-back to Japanese military ardour was, indeed, constituted by the marked reluctance of the Germans to form a line of resistance. German outposts, upon encountering hostile patrols, invariably retired after offering faint opposition. When the British troops, after a circuitous march of 40 miles, much hampered by bad roads, came up in the rear of the Japanese, then preparing to assault the enemy's advanced positions on high ground between the rivers Pai-sha and Li-tsun, the part that it had been arranged they should take in the Japanese attack, on September 26, fell through owing to a disinclination of the Germans to fight. Their resistance was so meagre that the Allies were hardly engaged, and next day gained without difficulty the easterly banks of the Li-tsun and Chang-tsun rivers, only seven miles north-east of Tsing-tao. The enemy at all points fell back, and the advance upon the town continued. The Japanese had now drawn their lines across the neck of the narrow peninsula upon which Tsing-tao stands. There were indications that the main forces were now in contact. The only obstacle, but a formidable one, between the invaders and the forts themselves was constituted by the dominating height of Prince Heinrich Hill, from whose crest, rising some five miles from the town, all the forts could be bombarded. General Kamio estimated that three days of fighting would be required for its capture: it was as all-important to the defence as to the attack, and was sure to be strongly held. The forts themselves, of the latest type, were elaborately constructed, and equipped with concrete and steel cupolas, mounting high calibre pieces. They commanded both landward and seaward approaches to the town, those nearest the invading Japanese being situated upon, and named Moltke Berg, Bismarck Berg, and Iltis Berg. Earth redoubts and trenches between formed the German line of defence. Plans for the most considerable engagement, the assault of Prince Heinrich Hill, that had so far taken place, to begin on Sunday, September 27, were made by the Japanese General. It developed more speedily than had been expected. German artillery opened a terrific cannonade upon the Japanese lines, while three warships shelled the attacking right wing from the bay. The German fire was heavy and accurate. Japanese warships and aeroplanes, and also the British battleship _Triumph_, however, created a diversion that relieved the assaulting forces. Two of the forts were shelled from the sea, and suffered serious injury, a barrack-house and other buildings being, moreover, damaged. For many hours the great guns, thundering their challenges from sea and land and estuary, maintained continual uproar. Darkness began to gather. Fighting continued into the night, and early next morning was renewed. But the defenders seemed to lack enthusiasm. It is doubtful, indeed, whether their forces were sufficiently numerous to hold with strength their advanced positions, and at the same time to man adequately their main fortified positions. During the morning of the 28th the Germans withdrew from Prince Heinrich Hill, leaving fifty of their number and four machine-guns in Japanese hands, and many dead upon the slopes. The Japanese casualties numbered 150. By noon the whole position was in the attackers' hands, and the beleaguered town, visible from the height, was now face to face with siege. German officers who knew all the points, weak and strong, of the defences, could not but realize their inability to withstand the siege guns which Japan would sooner or later bring to the attack. But the heavy artillery was yet far away. A month was to elapse before the pieces could be dragged across the difficult country, and emplaced in prepared positions on Prince Heinrich Hill.

[Sidenote: The siege continues.]

[Sidenote: Gunboats sunk.]

This month, which covered the whole of October, saw many interesting incidents, and betrayed no signs of idleness on the part of besiegers or besieged. The Germans, indeed, proved extraordinarily prodigal in ammunition, firing on an average 1,000 to 1,500 shells daily, a fact which lent support to the current view that, while undesirous of incurring their emperor's displeasure, they realized the hopelessness, so far as Tsing-tao was concerned, of their emperor's cause. Warships in the bay assisted the cannonade from the forts, and Lieutenant von Pluschow, the airman of the single aeroplane the town possessed, ventured forth at intervals to reconnoitre or to bomb. Life in the town itself continued to be quite normal. Japanese and British, meanwhile, drew their lines closer and closer to the fortress by sap and mine, though hindered greatly by terrible weather, and occasionally having slight encounters with the enemy. In one of these, on October 5, a German night-attack was heavily repulsed, forty-seven dead being left behind by the attackers. At sea the operations were also spasmodic. At the end of September a landing force occupied Lao-she harbour, in the vicinity of Tsing-tao, where four abandoned field-guns were taken possession of. Mine-sweeping had constantly to be maintained, under fire from the shore, and proved a dangerous task. Several vessels thus engaged were sunk or damaged, though with comparatively few casualties, through coming into contact with mines. Some German gunboats, however, among them the _Cormoran_ and the _Iltis_, were apparently sunk about this time, either deliberately by the Germans, or from the fire of the Japanese guns. A torpedo flotilla bombarded one of the barracks, moreover, to some effect, while Japanese aeroplanes were also active. Von Pluschow twice attempted to attack vessels of the blockading squadron, but unsuccessfully, and on one occasion a Japanese aeroplane pursuing him gave a German balloon, floating captive above the town, some critical moments before it could be hauled to safety. A few days later, about October 7, the rope which held this balloon was, during the spasmodic firing, severed by a shot, and the great bag floated away, apparently across the bay in the direction of Kiao-chau town and the railway line inland. In this quarter, indeed, over the line itself, serious friction had arisen between the Japanese and the Chinese authorities.

[Sidenote: Railway seized.]

[Sidenote: China protests.]