At the present time, when in our morning papers and in the monthly reviews we find such frequent comparisons between the fleets of the Powers, comparisons almost invariably based only on questions of ships, armour, guns, and horse-power, and leaving the all-important human factor out of account, it will be interesting to compare the relative strength—on paper—of the Austrian and Italian fleets in 1866, before telling the story of Lissa.

Austria had only seven ironclads. All were of the earlier type of armour-clad ships, modelled on the lines of the old steam frigates, built of wood, and plated with thin armour. The two largest—ships of 5000 tons and 800 horse-power—mounted a battery of eighteen 48-pounder smooth bores. They had not a single rifled gun in their weak broadsides. These were the "Ferdinand Max" and the "Hapsburg." The "Kaiser Max," the "Prinz Eugen," and "Don Juan de Austria" were smaller ships of 3500 tons and 650 horse-power, but they had a slightly better armament, sixteen smooth-bore muzzle-loading 48-pounders, and fourteen rifled guns, light breech-loading 24-pounders. The "Salamander" and the "Drache" were ships of 3000 tons and 500 horse-power. They mounted sixteen rifled 24-pounders and ten smooth-bore 48-pounders. These five smaller ironclads were the only ships under the Austrian flag at all up to date. There were an old wooden screw line-of-battle ship and four wooden frigates, but these had neither rifled guns nor armour, and the naval critics of the day would doubtless refuse to take them into account. Then there were some wooden unarmoured gunboats and dispatch vessels.

Now turning to the Italian Navy List, we find that these six ironclads, two of them without a single rifled gun, would have to face no less than twelve armoured ships, every one of them carrying rifled guns. One of them was a thoroughly up-to-date vessel, just commissioned from Armstrong's yard at Elswick, the armoured turret-ram "Affondatore" (i.e. "The Sinker"). A correspondent of "The Times" saw her when she put into Cherbourg on the way down Channel. He reported that she looked formidable enough to sink the whole Austrian ironclad fleet single-handed. She was a ship of 4000 tons and 750 horse-power, iron-built, heavily armoured, and with a spur-bow for ramming. She carried in her turret two 10-inch rifled Armstrong guns, throwing an armour-piercing shell of 295 pounds—say 300-pounders, and let us remember the heaviest rifled gun in the Austrian fleet was the little 24-pounder. Then there were two wooden ironclads of 5700 tons and 800 horse-power, the "Re d'Italia" and the "Re di Portogallo." The "Re di Portogallo" carried 28 rifled guns, two 300-pounders, twelve 100-pounders, and fourteen 74-pounders. The "Re d'Italia" mounted thirty-two rifled guns, two 150-pounders, sixteen 100-pounders, fourteen 74-pounders, and besides these four smooth-bore 50-pounders. On paper these three ships, the two "Kings"[19] and the "Affondatore," ought to have blown the Austrian ironclads out of the sea or sent them to the bottom. Let us compare the number of rifled guns and the weight of metal. There is no need to count the smooth-bores, for the "Merrimac-Monitor" fight had proved how little they could do even against weak armour. Here is the balance-sheet:—

AUSTRIANS. ITALIANS. Rifled Projectile. Rifled Projectile. Ships. Guns. lbs. Ships. Guns. lbs. Ferdinand Max none Affondatore 2 300 Hapsburg none { 2 150 Kaiser Max 14 24 Re d'Italia {16 100 Prinz Eugen 14 24 {14 74 Don Juan 14 24 { 2 300 Drache 16 24 Re di Portogallo {12 100 Salamander 16 24 {14 74 - Total 74 guns Total 62 guns throwing 1776 lbs. of metal. throwing 6372 lbs. of metal.

[19] "Re d'Italia" (King of Italy); "Re di Portogallo" (King of Portugal).

Even the "Affondatore" was supposed to be what the "Dreadnought" is to older ships in these paper estimates. What would she be with the two "Kings" helping her? But this was not all; the Italians could place in line nine more ironclads. Here is this further list:—

Weight of Ship. Tonnage. Horse- Rifled Guns. Broadside. power. lbs.

Ancona 4250 700 {22 100-pounders} 2274 { 1 74-pounder }

Maria Pia 4250 700 {18 100-pounders} 2096 { 4 74-pounders}

Castelfidardo 4250 700 {22 100-pounders} 2274 { 1 74-pounder }

San Martino 4250 700 {16 100-pounders} 2044 { 6 74-pounders}

Principe di Carignano[20] 4000 700 {12 100-pounders} 1644 { 6 74-pounders}

Terribile 2700 400 {10 100-pounders} 1444 { 6 74-pounders}

Formidabile 2700 400 {10 100-pounders} 1444 { 6 74-pounders}

Palestro 2000 300 2 150-pounders 300

Varese 2000 300 { 2 150-pounders} 500 { 2 100-pounders}

Total: nine ships carrying 146 rifled guns throwing 14,020 lbs. of metal.

[20] The "Principe di Carignano" was wooden built; all the rest iron.

What could the seven Austrian ironclads with their 74 little guns throwing 1776 pounds of metal do against these nine ships with double the number of guns and nearly ten times the weight of metal in their broadsides? But add in the three capital ships before noted on the Italian side, and we have:—

12 ironclads against 7. 208 rifled guns against 74. 20,392 pounds of metal in the broadsides against only 1776.

Clearly it would be mad folly for the Austrian fleet to challenge a conflict! It would be swept from the Adriatic at the first encounter!

Here, then, are our calculations as to the command of the Adriatic at the outset of the war of 1866. They leave out of account only one element—the men, and the spirit of the men. Let us see how the grim realities of war can give the lie to paper estimates.

Wilhelm von Tegethoff, who commanded the Austrian fleet with the rank of rear-admiral, was one of the world's great sailors, and the man for the emergency. He had as a young officer taken part in the blockade of Venice during the revolution of 1848 and 1849; he had seen something of the naval operations in the Black Sea during the Crimean War, as the commander of a small Austrian steamer, and during the war of 1864 he had commanded the wooden steam frigate "Schwarzenberg" in the fight with the Danes off Heligoland. Besides these war services he had taken part in an exploring expedition in the Red Sea and Somaliland, and he had made more than one voyage as staff-captain to the Archduke Maximilian, whose favourite officer and close friend he had been for years. When the Archduke, an enthusiastic sailor, resigned his command of the Austrian fleet to embark for Mexico, where a short-lived reign as Emperor and a tragic death awaited him, he told his brother, the Emperor Francis Joseph, that Tegethoff was the hope of the Austrian navy.

The young admiral (he was not yet forty years of age) had concentrated his fleet at Pola, the Austrian naval port near Trieste. He had got together every available ship, not only the seven ironclads, but the old line-of-battle ship and the wooden frigates and gunboats. The Admiralty at Vienna had suggested that he should take only the ironclads to sea, but he had replied: "Give me every ship you have. You may depend on my finding some good use for them." He believed in his officers and men, and relied on them to make a good fight on board anything that would float, whether the naval experts considered it was out of date or not. Among his officers he had plenty of men who were worthy of their chief and inspired with his own dauntless spirit, and the crews were largely composed of excellent material, men from the wilderness of creek and island that extends along the Illyrian and Dalmatian shores, fishermen and coasting sailors, many of them so lately joined that instead of uniform they still wore their picturesque native costume. The crew looked a motley lot, but, to use Farragut's phrase, "there was iron in the men."

Twenty-seven ships in all, small and large, were moored in four lines in the roadstead of Fasana, near Pola. But they did not remain idly at their anchors. Every day some of them ran out to sea, to fire at moving targets or to practise rapid turning and ramming floating rafts. The bows were strengthened by cross timbers in all the larger ships, and in the target work the crews were taught to concentrate the fire of several guns on one spot. But Tegethoff knew he had not a single gun in his fleet that could pierce the armour of the Italian vessels. He told his officers that for decisive results they must trust to the ram. He had painted his ships a dead black. The Italian colour was grey. "When we get into the fight," said Tegethoff, "you must ram away at anything you see painted grey."

War was declared on 20 June. Tegethoff had been training his fleet since 9 May, and was ready for action. He at once sent out the "Stadion" (a passenger steamer of the Austrian Lloyd line, employed as a scout and armed with two 12-pounders) to reconnoitre the Italian coast of the Adriatic. The "Stadion" returned on the 23rd with news that though war had been expected for weeks the Italian fleet was not yet concentrated. A few of the ships were at Ancona, but the greater part of it was reported to be at Taranto, with Admiral Count Persano, the commander-in-chief, who from the first displayed the strangest irresolution.

Tegethoff was anxious to attempt to engage the division at Ancona before it was joined by the main body from Taranto, but he was held back by orders from his Government directing him to remain in the Northern Adriatic covering Venice. It was not till 26 June that he obtained a free hand within limits defined by an order not to go further south than the fortified island of Lissa.

He left Pola that evening with six ironclads, the wooden frigate "Schwarzenberg," five gunboats, and the scouting steamer "Stadion." He had hoisted his rear-admiral's flag on the "Erzherzog Ferdinand Max."[21] He made for Ancona, and was off the port at dawn next day. The first shots of the naval war were fired in the grey of the morning, when three of the Austrian gunboats chased the Italian dispatch vessel "Esploratore" into the port, outside of which she had been on the look-out. The Austrians were able clearly to see and count the warships under the batteries in the harbour. Besides other craft, there were eleven of Persano's twelve ironclads, the squadron from Taranto having reached Ancona the day before. Only the much-vaunted "Affondatore" had not yet joined.

[21] This was one of his least powerfully-armed ironclads, but Tegethoff seems to have selected her as his flagship because she was named after his old friend and chief, the Archduke Ferdinand Maximilian, who was at that time Emperor of Mexico, and involved in the final stage of the struggle that ended in his capture and execution by the Republican Juarez.

Tegethoff cleared for action, and steamed up and down for some hours, just beyond the range of the coast batteries. It was a challenge to the Italians to come out and fight. But Persano did not accept it. He afterwards made excuses to his Government, saying he had not yet completed the final fitting out of his ships. The moral effect on both fleets was important. The Austrians felt an increased confidence in their daring leader and a growing contempt for their adversaries. On the 24th the Austrian army, under the Archduke Albert, had beaten the Italians at Custozza, and the Austrian navy looked forward to the same good fortune. The Italians were depressed both by the news of Custozza and the hesitation of their admiral to risk anything.

Early in the day Tegethoff started on his return voyage to Fasana, where he arrived in the evening, and found the ironclad "Hapsburg" waiting to join his flag, after having been refitted in the dockyard of Pola. As there were now persistent rumours that the Italians were going to attempt an attack on Venice, Tegethoff remained in the Fasana roadstead, continuing the training of his fleet. On 6 July he again took it to sea, practised fleet manoeuvres under steam, and showed himself in sight of Ancona. But the Italian fleet was still lying idly in the harbour, and Tegethoff once more returned to Fasana in the hope that Persano would attempt some enterprise, during which he would be able to fall upon him in the open.

The Italian admiral was meanwhile wasting time in lengthy correspondence with his Government, and sending it letters which revealed his irresolution and incompetence so plainly that they ought to have led to his immediate supersession. He complained he had not definite orders, though he had been directed to destroy the Austrian fleet, if it put to sea, or blockade it, if it remained in harbour. He explained now that he was mounting better guns in some of his ships, now that he was waiting for the "Affondatore" to join. Once he actually wrote saying that some new ironclads ought to be purchased from other powers to reinforce him. At last he was plainly told that if he did not at once do something for the honour of the Italian navy he would be relieved of his command. With the Austrians victorious in Northern Italy, a raid on Venice would have been too serious an operation, but he proposed as an alternative that a small land force should be embarked for a descent on the fortified island of Lissa, on the Dalmatian coast. His fleet would escort it, and co-operate by bombarding the island batteries. The plan was accepted, and he proceeded to execute it.

It was about as bad a scheme as could be imagined. It is a recognized principle of war that over-sea expeditions should only be undertaken when the enemy's fleet has been either rendered helpless by a crushing defeat or blockaded in its ports. Before sending the transports to Lissa Persano should have steamed across to Pola and blockaded Tegethoff, fighting him if he came out. But Persano had a delusive hope that he could perhaps score a victory without encountering the Austrian fleet by swooping down on Lissa, crushing the batteries with a heavy bombardment, landing the troops, hoisting the Italian flag, and getting back to his safe anchorage at Ancona before Tegethoff could receive news of what was happening, and come out and force on a battle.

Lissa was defended by a garrison of 1800 men, under Colonel Urs de Margina. This small body of troops held a number of forts and batteries mounting eighty-eight guns, none of them of large calibre. The works were old, and had been hurriedly repaired. Most of them dated from the time of the English occupation of the island during the Napoleonic wars.[22] Persano expected that Lissa would be a very easy nut to crack.

[22] Some of the forts were still known by English names, such as Wellington Tower, Bentinck Tower, and Robertson Tower.

On 16 July the Italian fleet sailed from Ancona. Even now Persano carried out his operations with leisurely deliberation. On the 17th he reconnoitred Lissa, approaching in his flagship under French colours. Early on the 18th the fleet closed in upon the island, flying French colours, till it was in position before the batteries.

The commandant had cable communication with Pola by a line running by Lesina to the mainland. He reported to Tegethoff the appearance of the disguised fleet, and then the opening of the attack on his batteries. At first the Austrian admiral could hardly believe that the Italians had committed themselves to such an ill-judged enterprise, and thought that the attack on Lissa might be only a feint meant to draw his fleet away from the Northern Adriatic, and leave an opening for a dash at Pola, Trieste, or Venice itself. But cablegrams describing the progress of the attack convinced him it was meant to be pressed home, and he telegraphed to Colonel de Margina, telling him to hold out to the last extremity, and promising to come to his relief with all the fleet. This message did not reach the colonel, for just before it was dispatched an Italian ship had cut the cable between Lissa and Lesina, and seized the telegraph office of the latter island. Tegethoff's message thus fell into Persano's hands. He persuaded himself that it was mere bluff, intended to encourage the commandant of Lissa to hold out as long as possible. He thought Tegethoff would remain in the Northern Adriatic to protect or to overawe Venice.

The attempt to reduce the batteries of Lissa by bombardment during the 18th proved a failure. In the evening Persano was in a very anxious state of mind. He had made no arrangements for colliers to supply his fleet, and his coal was getting low. It was just possible that Tegethoff might come out and force him to fight, and he thought of returning to Ancona. But if he did he would be dismissed from his command. At last he made up his mind to land the troops next morning, and try to carry the forts by an assault combined with an attack from the sea. His second in command, Admiral Albini, with the squadron of wooden ships and gunboats that accompanied the ironclads, was directed to superintend and assist in the landing of the troops. They were to be embarked in all available boats, and to land at 9 a.m. During the night the ram "Affondatore" joined the fleet, and Persano had all his twelve ironclads before Lissa.

On the morning of the 18th the sea was smooth, and covered with a hot haze that limited the view. The soldiers were being got into the boats, and the ships were steaming to their stations for the attack, when about eight o'clock the "Esploratore," which had been sent off to scout to the north-westward, appeared steaming fast out of a bank of haze with a signal flying, which was presently read, "Suspicious-looking ships in sight." Tegethoff was coming.

He had left Fasana late on the afternoon of the 18th, with every available ship, large and small, new and old, wooden wall and ironclad. He would find work for all of them. All night he had steamed for Lissa, anxious at the sudden cessation of the cable messages, but still hoping that he would see the Austrian flag flying on its forts, or if not, that he would at least find the enemy's fleet still in its waters.



He had organized his fleet in three divisions. The first under his own personal command was formed of the seven ironclads. The second division, under Commodore von Petz, was composed of wooden unarmoured ships. The commodore's flag flew on the old steam line-of-battle ship "Kaiser," a three-decker with ninety-two guns on her broadsides, all smooth-bores except a couple of rifled 24-pounders. With the "Kaiser" were five old wooden ships ("Novara," "Schwarzenberg," "Donau," "Adria," and "Radetzky") and a screw corvette, the "Erzherzog Friedrich." The third division, under Commandant Eberle, was composed of ten gunboats. A dispatch-boat was attached to each of the leading divisions, and the scout "Stadion," the swiftest vessel in the fleet, was at the immediate disposal of the admiral, and was sent on in advance.

The fleet steamed during the night in the order of battle that Tegethoff had chosen. The divisions followed each other in succession, each in a wedge formation, the flagship of the division in the centre with the rest of the ships to port and starboard, not in line abreast, but each a little behind the other. The formation will be understood from the annexed diagram.

It was an anxious night for the Austrian admiral. For some hours there was bad weather. Driving showers of fine rain from a cloudy sky made it difficult at times to see the lights of the ships, and it was no easy matter for them to keep their stations. The sea was for a while so rough that the ironclads had to close their ports, and there was a danger that if the weather did not improve and the sea become smoother they would not be able to fight most of their guns. But Tegethoff held steadily on his course for Lissa. On sea, as on land, there are times in the crisis of a war when the highest prudence is to throw all ordinary rules of prudence aside, and take all risks.

The admiral had resolved from the outset that, whatever might be the result, the Austrian fleet should not lie in safety under the protection of shore batteries, leaving the Italian command of the Adriatic unchallenged. He felt that it would be better to sink in the open sea, in a hopeless fight against desperate odds, rather than ingloriously to survive the war, without making an effort to carry his flag to victory. So he steamed through the night, followed by his strange array of ships that another leader might well have considered as little better than useless encumbrances, and in front the handful of inferior ironclads that might well be regarded as equally doomed to destruction when they met the more numerous and more heavily armed ships of the enemy. But he had put away all thoughts of safety. He was staking every ship and every man and his own life against the faint chance of success. The coming day might see his fleet destroyed, but such a failure would be no disgrace. On the contrary, it would only be less honourable than a well-won victory, and would be an inspiration to the men of a future fleet that would carry the banner of the Hapsburgs in later days. So he rejoiced greatly when, as the day came, the weather began to clear, and the "Stadion" signalled back that Lissa was still holding out and the enemy's fleet lay under its shores.

As soon as he read the "Esploratore's" signal, Persano had no doubt that Tegethoff was upon him. He countermanded the attack on Lissa, ordered Albini to re-embark the troops, and proceeded to form his ironclads in line of battle, intending to engage the enemy with these only. The ironclads were standing in to attack the batteries of San Giorgio at the north-east end of the island. Persano formed nine of them in three divisions, which were to follow each other in line ahead, the ram "Affondatore" being out of the line and to starboard of the second division. The formation was as follows:—

FIRST DIVISION.

{ Principe di Carignano. Rear-Admiral Vacca { Castelfidardo. { Ancona.

SECOND DIVISION.

{ Re d'Italia. Affondatore. Rear-Admiral Faa di Bruno { Palestro. (to starboard of the { San Martino. line).

THIRD DIVISION.

{ Re di Portogallo. Rear-Admiral Ribotti { Maria Pia. { Varese.

The two other Italian ironclads, the "Formidabile" and the "Varese," were not in the line, and took no part in the coming battle. The "Formidabile" had suffered heavily in the attack on the shore batteries, numerous shells entering her port-holes and making a slaughterhouse of her gun-deck. She had been ordered to Ancona, and had left Lissa in the early morning. The "Varese" had been detached to assist in operations on the other side of the island, and joined Albini's squadron of wooden ships while the fight was in progress. Persano's battle line first steered west along the north side of Lissa. About ten o'clock the driving mist on the sea cleared, and the Austrian fleet was then seen approaching on a S.S.E. course. Persano altered his own course, and, led by Vacca in the "Principe di Carignano," the Italian ironclads turned in succession on a N.N.E. course. Thus as the Austrians closed on them the fleet in a sinuous line was steering across the bows of the attacking ships.

It was at this moment that Persano changed his flag from the "Re d' Italia" to the "Affondatore," the former ship slowing down to enable the admiral to leave her, and thus producing a wide gap between Vacca's and Faa di Bruno's divisions. The result of this sudden change of flagship was confusing, as most of the Italian ships were unaware of it, and still looked to the "Re d' Italia" for guidance, and did not notice signals made by the "Affondatore."

Tegethoff had given the successive signals as the mist dispersed, "Clear for action—Close order—Look-out ships return to their stations—Full speed ahead." As the last of the fog disappeared and the sun shone out, he saw to his delight the Austrian flag still flying on the hill-side batteries of Lissa, and close in front between him and the island shores the enemy's fleet crossing his bows. Out fluttered his battle signal, "Ironclads will ram and sink the enemy!" A final signal was being prepared, "Muss Sieg von Lissa werden!" ("There must be a victory of Lissa!"), but the close encounter had begun, and the ships were wrapped in clouds of powder-smoke before it could be hoisted.

While Persano was passing from the "Re d' Italia" to the ram "Affondatore," Vacca had begun the fight by firing his broadside at the advancing Austrians. The "Castelfidardo" and the "Ancona" followed his example. But Tegethoff held his fire, waiting for close quarters. One of these first shots killed Captain Moll of the "Drache" on the bridge of his ship. A young lieutenant took command of her. He was Weiprecht, who in later years became famous as the commander of the Austrian exploring ship "Tegethoff" in the Arctic regions.



As the fleets closed the Austrians opened fire, aiming, not at the armoured sides of the enemy, which no gun of theirs could penetrate, but at their port-holes and bridges. Tegethoff in his flagship the "Ferdinand Max" was looking for something to ram, but in the dense mass of smoke he passed through the wide gap between Vacca's division and the "Re d'Italia," then finding no enemy in his front, he turned and went back into the battle fog of the Italian centre. The three ironclads on his left ("Hapsburg," "Salamander," and "Kaiser Max") were engaged with Vacca's division, the van of the Italian fleet. The three others, "Don Juan," "Drache," and "Prinz Eugen," had flung themselves on Faa di Bruno's ships in the centre. Von Petz coming up with the wooden ships gallantly attacked Ribotti's rearward division, any one of which should in theory have been able to dispose of his entire force. The gunboats hung on the margin of the fight, which had now become a confused melee. And while the Austrian wooden ships were thus risking themselves in close action, Albini's Italian division of wooden ships looked on from a safe distance.

One can only tell some of the striking incidents of the battle, without being able even to fix the precise order of time in which they occurred. When the "Merrimac" sank the "Cumberland" with one blow of her ram in Hampton Roads, the Federal ship was at anchor. But even in the confusion and semi-darkness of the melee at Lissa it was found that it was not such an easy matter to ram a ship under way. The blow was generally eluded by a turn of the helm. Von Petz's flagship, the old three-decker "Kaiser," towering amid the battle-smoke, attracted the attention of Persano in the "Affondatore," and seemed an easy victim for his ram. But the big ironclad was unhandy, and took eight minutes to turn a full circle, and twice Petz eluded her attack. The two 300-pounders of the "Affondatore" did much damage on board the "Kaiser," but the wooden ship's broadside swept the upper works of the ram as the two vessels passed each other, and strewed her deck with wreckage. The fire of the heavy rifled guns on the Italian ironclads did severe execution on the Austrian wooden ships. The captain of the "Novara" was killed; the "Erzherzog Friedrich" and the "Schwarzenberg" were badly hulled, and leaked so that they were only kept afloat by their steam pumps. The "Adria" was three times on fire. But Petz and the wooden division did good service by keeping the rearward Italian ships fully occupied.

Meanwhile Tegethoff, standing on the bridge of the "Ferdinand Max," all reckless of the storm of fire that roared around him had dashed into the Italian centre. He rammed first the "Re d'Italia," then the "Palestro," but both ships evaded the full force of the blow, and the Austrian flagship scraped along their sides, bringing down a lot of gear. The mizzen-topmast and gaff of the "Palestro" came down with the shock, and the gaff fell across the Austrian's deck, with the Italian tricolour flying from it. Before the ships could clear an Austrian sailor secured the flag. It would seem that the glancing blow given to the "Re d'Italia" had disorganized her steering gear, and for a while she was not under control. Two other ships joined the flagship in attacking her, all believing she was still Persano's flagship. The "Palestro," fighting beside her, was set on fire by shells passing through her unarmoured stern. The fire made such rapid progress that she drew out of the fight, her crew trying to save their ship.

Von Sterneck, the captain of the "Ferdinand Max," had gone half-way up the mizzen-rigging, to look out over the smoke; he reported that the "Re d'Italia" was not under full control, and Tegethoff once more dashed at his enemy. The bow of the "Ferdinand Max" this time struck the "Re d'Italia" full amidships, and simply forced in her side, making an enormous gap, crushing and smashing plates and frames. As the "Ferdinand Max" reversed her engines and drew her bows out of her adversary's side, the "Re d'Italia" heeled over and sank instantly, carrying hundreds to the bottom and strewing the surface with wreckage and struggling men.

The Austrians, after a moment of astonished horror at their own success, cheered wildly. The "Ferdinand Max" tried to save some of the drowning men, and was lowering her only boat that remained unshattered by the fire, when the Italian ironclad "Ancona" tried to ram her. The Austrian flagship evaded the blow, and the "Ancona," as she slid past her, almost touching her gun-muzzles, fired a broadside into her. The powder-smoke from the Italian guns poured into the port-holes of the "Ferdinand Max," and for a few moments smothered her gun-deck in fog, but it was a harmless broadside. In their undisciplined haste to fire the Italians had loaded only with the cartridge, there was not a shot in the guns. This tells something of the confusion on board.

Another Austrian ironclad and two of the gunboats made plucky efforts to save some of the survivors of the "Re d'Italia," but they, too, were driven off by the fierce attacks of Italian ships.

Meanwhile Petz with his wooden ships had fought his way through the Italian rear. With his old three-decker he boldly rammed the "Re di Portogallo." The Italian ship evaded the full force of the blow, but the tall wooden vessel scraped along her side, starting several of her armour plates, carrying away port-hole covers and davits, dragging two anchors from her bows, smashing gun-muzzles and jerking four light guns into the sea. But the "Kaiser" herself suffered from the close fire of the "Re di Portogallo's" heavy guns and the shock of collision. Her stem and bowsprit were carried away, the gilded crown of her figure-head falling on her enemy's deck. Her foremast came crashing down on her funnel, and wrecked it, and the mass of fallen spars, sails, and rigging was set on fire by sparks and flame from the damaged funnel, the collapse of which nearly stopped the draught of the furnaces and dangerously reduced the pressure on the boilers and the speed of the engines.

The "Re di Portogallo" sheered off, but her consort, the "Maria Pia," came rushing down on the disabled "Kaiser." Petz avoided her ram, and engaged her at close quarters, but the shells of the "Maria Pia" burst one of the "Kaiser's" steam-pipes, temporarily disabled her steering gear, and did terrible execution in her stern battery. Petz himself was slightly wounded. With great difficulty he extricated his ship from the melee, and cutting away the wreckage, and fighting the fire that was raging forward, he steered for San Giorgio, the port of Lissa, to seek shelter under its batteries. His wooden frigates gallantly protected his retreat and escorted him to safety, then turned back to join once more in the fight. This was the moment when Albini with the Italian wooden squadron might easily have destroyed Petz's division, but during the day all he did was to fire a few shots at a range so distant that they were harmless.

Persano, in the "Affondatore," had for a moment threatened to attack the "Kaiser," as she struggled out of the melee. He steamed towards her, and then suddenly turned away. He afterwards explained that, seeing the plight of Petz's flagship, he thought she was already doomed to destruction, and looked upon it as useless cruelty to sink her with her crew.

The fleets were now separating, and the fire was slackening. In this last stage of the melee the "Maria Pia" and the "San Martino" collided amid the smoke, and the latter received serious injuries. As the fleets worked away from each other there was still a desultory fire kept up, but after having lasted for about an hour and a half the battle was nearly over.

Tegethoff, having got between the Italians and Lissa, reformed his fleet in three lines of divisions, each in line ahead, the ironclads to seaward nearest the enemy; the wooden frigates next; and the gunboats nearest the land. Every ship except the "Kaiser" (which lay in the entrance of the port) was still ready for action. Some of them were leaking badly, including his flagship, which had started several plates in the bow when she rammed and sank the "Re d'Italia." The fleet steamed slowly out from the land on a north-easterly course, the ironclads firing a few long-ranging shots at the Italians.

Persano was also reforming his fleet in line, and was flying a signal to continue the action, but he showed no determined wish to close with Tegethoff again. On the contrary, while reforming the line he kept it on a northwesterly course, and thus the distance between the fleets was increasing every minute, as they were moving on divergent lines. Gradually the firing died away and the battle was over. Albini, with the wooden squadron, and the ironclad "Terribile," which had remained with him, and taken no part in the fight, ran out and joined the main fleet.

Persano afterwards explained that he was waiting for Tegethoff to come out and attack him. But the Austrian admiral had attained his object, by forcing his way through the Italian line, and placing himself in a position to co-operate with the batteries of Lissa, in repelling any further attempt upon the island. There was no reason why, with his numerically inferior fleet, he should come out again to fight a second battle.

But though the action was ended, there was yet another disaster for the Italians. The "Palestro" had been for two hours fighting the fire lighted on board of her by the Austrian shells. Smoke was rising from hatchways and port-holes, but as she rejoined the fleet she signalled that the fire was being got under and the magazines had been drowned. Two of the smaller ships, the "Governolo" and the "Independenza," came to her help and took off her wounded. To a suggestion that he should abandon his ship, her commander, Capellini, replied: "Those who wish may go, but I shall stay," and his officers and men remained with him, and continued working to put out the fire. But the attempt to drown the magazines had been a failure, for suddenly a deafening explosion thundered over the sea, the spars of the "Palestro" were seen flying skyward in a volcano of flame. As the smoke of the explosion cleared, the heaving water strewn with debris showed where the ship had been.

The Austrian fleet was steaming into San Giorgio, amid the cheers of the garrison and the people, when the explosion of the "Palestro" took place. Persano drew off with his fleet into the channel between Lissa and the island of Busi, and when the sun went down the Italian ships were still in sight from the look-out stations on the hills of Lissa.

The Austrians worked all night repairing damages, and preparing for a possible renewal of the fight in the morning. But at sunrise the look-outs reported that there was not an Italian ship in sight. Persano had steered for Ancona after dark, and arrived there on the 21st.

He was so unwise as to report that he had won a great naval victory in a general engagement with the Austrians in the waters of Lissa. Italy, already smarting under the defeat of Custozza, went wild with rejoicing. Cities were illuminated, salutes were fired, there was a call for high honours for the victorious admiral. But within forty-eight hours the truth was known. It was impossible to conceal the fact that Lissa had been unsuccessfully attacked for two days, and that on the third it had been relieved by Tegethoff dashing through the Italian fleet, and destroying the "Re d'Italia" and the "Palestro," without himself losing a single ship. There were riots in Florence, and the cry was now that Admiral Persano was a coward and a traitor. To add to the gloom of the moment the ram "Affondatore," which had been injured in the battle, sank at her anchors when a sudden gale swept the roadstead of Ancona.

Three of the twelve Italian ironclads had thus been lost. Three more were unavailable while their damages were being slowly repaired. Peace was concluded shortly after, and the Italian navy had no opportunity of showing what it could do under a better commander.

In the sinking of the "Re d'Italia" some 450 men had been drowned. More than 200 lost their lives in the explosion of the "Palestra," but the other losses of the Italians in the Battle of Lissa were slight, only 5 killed and 39 wounded. The Austrians lost 38 killed (including two captains) and 138 wounded. These losses were not severe, considering that several wooden ships had been exposed to heavy shell-fire at close quarters, and one must conclude that the gunnery of the Italian crews was wretched. The heaviest loss fell on Petz's flagship, the "Kaiser," which had 99 killed and wounded. Some of the gunboats, among which were some old paddle-ships, though they took part in the fighting, had not a single casualty.

Persano was tried by court-martial and deprived of his rank and dismissed from the navy. Tegethoff became the hero of Austria. His successful attack on a fleet that in theory should have been able to destroy every one of his ships in an hour, will remain for all time an honour to the Austrian navy, and a proof that skill and courage can hope to reverse the most desperate disadvantages.



CHAPTER XII

THE BATTLE OF THE YALU

1894

One result of the victory won by Tegethoff at Lissa was that an exaggerated importance was for many years to come attached to the ram as a weapon of attack. In every navy in the world ships were built with bows specially designed for ramming. The sinking of the "Re d'Italia" had made such an impression on the public mind, that it was in vain for a minority among naval critics to urge that the ram was being overrated, and to point out that even at Lissa for one successful attempt to sink an enemy by running her down there had been an untold number of failures. It was very gradually that the majority was brought to realize that a ship under full control could generally avoid a ramming attack, and that it could only be employed under exceptional circumstances, and against an already disabled enemy.

Then the progress of invention and armaments introduced features into naval warfare that made it extremely difficult and dangerous for a large ship to come to such close quarters as an attempt to ram implies. First the introduction of the Whitehead torpedo as part of the auxiliary armament of battleships and cruisers gave the ship attacked a means of sinking the aggressor as she approached, and the increase in the power of guns led naval tacticians to accept as a principle that fleet actions must be fought at ranges which were regarded as too distant for any effective action in earlier days.

But for nearly thirty years after Lissa there were no fleet actions. Ships, armour, guns, were all improved, and the great naval Powers built on a larger and larger scale. Steel took the place of iron as the material for shipbuilding and armour. Naval gunnery became a precise science. Torpedoes were introduced, and with them such new types of ships as the swift torpedo boat and the "destroyer." But there was very little fighting on the sea, though in the same period there were colossal conflicts on land.

Hundreds of armour-clads were built that became obsolete, and were turned over to the shipbreaker, without ever having fired a shot in action. Theories of tactics for fleet actions were worked out on paper, and tested to some extent at naval manoeuvres, but the supreme test of battle was wanting. In the Franco-German War of 1870 the French navy had such a decided superiority that the few German warships of the day were kept in their harbours protected by batteries and sunken mines. The only naval action of the war was an indecisive duel between two gunboats. In the second stage of the war the officers and men of the French navy fought as soldiers in the defence of France. Guns were taken from the ships to be mounted on land fortifications. Admirals commanded divisions, formed largely of naval officers and bluejackets.

Again in the war of 1878 between Russia and Turkey the Russians had only a few light craft in the Black Sea, and the Turkish fleet under Hobart Pasha, weak as it was, held the undisputed command of these waters, and had only to fear some isolated torpedo attacks. In South American civil wars and international conflicts there were duels between individual ships, and some dashing enterprises by torpedo boats, but nothing that could be described as a fleet action between ironclads. The only time a British armoured fleet was in action was against the batteries of Alexandria on the occasion of the bombardment in July, 1882. The forts, badly armed and constructed, and inefficiently defended, were silenced, but a careful examination of them convinced experts that if they had been held by a better-trained garrison, the victory would not have been such an easy matter. This and subsequent experiences have led to the general acceptance of the view that it will be seldom advisable to risk such valuable fighting machines as first-class battleships and armoured cruisers in close action against well-constructed and powerfully armed shore defences.

It was not till the summer of 1894 that at last there was another pitched battle between fleets that included a large proportion of armoured vessels. That action off the mouth of the Yalu River will be always remembered as the event that heralded the coming of a new naval power.

A long rivalry between China and Japan for the control of Korea had resulted in an outbreak of war between the two empires of the Far East. For an island state like Japan the command of the sea was a necessary condition for successful operations on the mainland of Asia, and for some years she had been building up a powerful fleet, the ships being constructed in foreign yards, as the Japanese yards were not yet in a position to turn out large warships.

In the memory of living men the Japanese fleets had been made up of primitive-looking war-junks. After failures to build ships in Japan on the European model, the Government had in the middle of the nineteenth century purchased some small steamships abroad, but it was not till 1876 that the first Japanese armour-clad, the "Fuso," was constructed in England from designs by the late Sir Edward Reed. Naval progress was at first very slow, but solid foundations were laid. Young naval officers were attached to the British and other navies for professional training, and on their return to Japan became the educators of their fellow-countrymen in naval matters. A serious obstacle to the acquisition of a numerous and powerful fleet was the financial question. Japan is not a rich country. At first, therefore, the Japanese did not venture to order battleships, but contented themselves with protected cruisers. They thought that these would be sufficient for the impending conflict with China, which possessed only a fleet of weak, protected cruisers of various types and a couple of small coast defence ironclads, that might be counted as inferior battleships.

When war broke out between China and Japan in 1894, the fleet of the latter consisted of older ships of miscellaneous types, and a number of new protected cruisers, some of them armed with quick-firing guns, a type of weapon only lately introduced into the world's navies. Of these modern cruisers most had been built and armed in French yards, but the best and swiftest ship was a fine cruiser delivered not long before from Armstrong's yard at Elswick.

The following lists give some details of the Japanese and Chinese fleets, only the ships engaged at the Yalu battle being included. But these ships represented almost the entire strength of the two rival navies, and no really effective ship was absent on either side, while to make up the two squadrons ships were sent to sea that in a European navy would have been considered obsolete and left in harbour (see pages 256-7).

A comparison of these two lists brings out some interesting points. The advantage in gun power was clearly on the side of the Japanese. Of the heavier class of guns they had seventy to fifty-five, and there were no weapons in the Chinese squadron equal to the long 12 1/2-inch rifled breech-loaders of French make, carried by four of the Japanese cruisers. But there was a further gain in gun power for the Japanese in the possession of 128 quick-firers, some of them of fairly heavy calibre. The quick-firing gun was then a new weapon. It is really a quick loader, a gun fitted with a breech action that can be opened and closed by a rapid movement, and so mounted that the recoil is taken up by mechanism in the carriage which at once automatically runs the gun back into firing position, while the process of loading is further accelerated (for the smaller calibre guns) by making up the ammunition like that of a rifle, with projectile and charge in a big brass-cased cartridge, so that the gun can be loaded up by one movement, and the cartridge contains its own means of ignition, and is fired by pulling off a trigger. The lighter quick-firers are further mounted on pivots, so that they can be easily moved through an arc of a circle by one man, who keeps his eyes on a moving target and his finger on the trigger ready to fire. The storm of shells that poured from the Japanese quick-firers was even more terrible for the Chinese than the slower fire of the heavy guns, and of these new quick-firing guns the Chinese only had three on the little "Kwang-ping."

JAPANESE FLEET -+ + + -+ -+ Tonnage. Heavy Guns. Quick-firers. Machine Guns. Ships. Notes. -+ + + -+ -+ N {Yoshino 4150 44 Swiftest ship in either fleet: e { speed 23 knots; 2-inch w c{ steel protective deck. Built r{ by Armstrong. p u{ { 2-inch steel protective deck. r i{Matsushima } { 12 16 6 { Barbette forward covered o s{Ikitsushima }4277{ 12 16 6 { with 12-inch armour, and t e{Hashidate } { 12 16 15 { armed with a long Canet e r{ { 12 1/2-inch gun. c s{ t {Takachico }3650{ 8 12 { 3-inch steel protective deck. e {Naniwa Kan } { 8 12 { Speed 18 knots. d {Akitsushima 3150 1 12 10 2 1/2-inch steel protective deck. One long 12 1/2-inch Canet gun. Chiyoda 2450 24 13 Small partly armoured cruiser; 4 1/2-inch armoured belt over two-thirds of length; 1-inch steel protective deck. Fuso 3718 6 8 4 1/2-in. armour belt } amidships. } Old Hiyei 2200 9 { 7-in. armour belt. } ironclads { 9-in. armour on } launched { battery. } 1877-8. Akagi 615 2 2 Gunboat. Saikio Maru 600 (?) Armed merchant steamer carrying only a few small quick-firers. - - 70 128 84 -+ + + -+ -+

CHINESE FLEET -+ + + -+ -+ Tonnage. Heavy Guns. Quick-firers. Machine Guns. Ships. Notes. -+ + + -+ -+ A {Chen-yuen }7430{ 6 12 { Coast-defence battleships, 14-inch r {Ting-yuen } { 6 12 { armour belt. Four 12-inch guns m { { on each ship, mounted in pairs o { { in turrets with 12-inch armour. u { r {Lai-yuen }2850{ 4 8 { Armoured cruisers, 9 1/2-inch e {King-yuen } { 4 8 { armour belt. 8-inch armour on d { { barbettes forward. {Ping-yuen 2850 3 8 Armoured cruiser, 8-inch armour belt; 5 inches on barbette. U n {Tsi-yuen 2355 3 10 a {Ching-yuen }2300{ 5 16 { Quickest ships in the fleet: r {Chi-yuen } { 5 16 { speed 18 knots. m { o {Yang-wei }1350{ 6 7 u {Chao-yung } { 6 7 r {Kwang-chia 1300 7 8 e {Kwang-ping 1030 3 8 d { 4 torpedo-boats and 3 small gunboats. - - 55 3 120 -+ + + -+ -+

The Chinese fleet had more armour protection. The two coast-defence battleships were heavily armoured, and there were three other less completely protected ironclads, although seven other ships had no armour whatever. In the Japanese fleet the only armoured vessels were the two old ironclads, belonging to an obsolete type, and the armour-belted "Chiyoda." The real fighting force of the fleet was made up of the seven new protected cruisers. Some of these had armour on the barbettes in which their long bow-guns were mounted, but their "protection" consisted in a deck plated with steel covering the "vitals" of the ship, boilers, engines, and magazines, all placed as low as possible in the hull. There was some further protection afforded by the coal-bunkers placed along the water-line amidships. The theory of the protected cruiser was that everything below the water-line was safeguarded by this armoured deck, and as the over-water portion of the ship was further divided by bulk-heads into numerous water-tight compartments, the danger of the ship being sunk was remote. The protected cruiser is no longer regarded as having a place in the main fighting-line. But the Japanese cruisers gave such good results in the Yalu battle that for a while an exaggerated value was attached to it.

But in one point, and the most important of all, the Japanese had an overwhelming advantage. The Chinese officers and men were mostly brave enough, but almost entirely unskilled. The only really efficient officers and engineers they had were a few Englishmen and Americans and two Germans. The Japanese, from Admiral Count Ito, who commanded, down to the youngest of the bluejackets, were not only brave with the inherited recklessness of death and suffering, which is characteristic of their race, but were also highly trained in every branch of their profession, first-rate sailors, excellent gunners. And the fleet had for years been exercised in manoeuvres, so that the ships could work together as an organized whole. The spirit which animated it was that of "No surrender—Victory at any cost." It is a standing order of the Japanese navy that if a ship should strike her colours, the first duty of her consorts is not to try to recapture her, but to endeavour to sink her and her crew.

The Mandarin Ting, who commanded the Chinese fleet, was more of a soldier than a sailor, but he had some sea experience, and was a thoroughly brave man. As soon as war was declared he was anxious to go in search of his enemy. He urged upon the Pekin Government that the first step to be taken was to use the Chinese fleet to attack the Japanese transports, which were conveying troops to Korea. This would, of course, lead to a battle with the enemy's fleet, but Ting was quite confident that he would defeat the Japanese if he met them. In giving this advice the Chinese admiral was reasoning on correct principles, even if his confidence in his own fighting power was not justified by facts. To keep the fleet idle at Port Arthur or Wei-hai-wei would be to concede the command of the sea to Japan, without an effort to dispute it.

But the mandarins at Pekin would not accept their admiral's view. In the first place they were alarmed at the fact that in a minor naval engagement off the Korean coast, at the very outset of the conflict, the weak Chinese force in action had fared very badly. The quarrel in Korea had begun without a regular declaration of war. On the coast there were the Chinese cruiser, "Tsi-yuen," and a small gunboat, the "Kwang-yi." On 24 July the two ships had gone to sea to look for, and give their escort to, some transports that were expected with reinforcements from China. In the grey of the morning on the 25th they fell in with, and were attacked by, three of the swift protected cruisers of the Japanese fleet, the "Yoshino," "Akitsushima," and "Naniwa Kan." The fight was soon over. The gunboat was sunk, and the little cruiser was attacked at close quarters by the "Naniwa Kan," whose shells riddled her weak conning-tower, killing all within it. The "Tsing Yuen" fled, pursued by the "Naniwa," whose commander, by the way, was Captain Togo, famous afterwards as the victorious admiral of the Russo-Japanese War. The "Tsing Yuen" made good her escape, only because the chase brought the "Naniwa Kan" on the track of the transport "Kowshing," and Togo stopped to dispose of her by sending her to the bottom.

This incident made the Pekin Government nervous about the fighting qualities of their ships. And then they were afraid that if Ting went to sea with all his ships, the Japanese fleet would elude him, and appear with an expeditionary force at the mouth of the Pei-ho, capture the Taku forts, and land an army to march on Pekin. They therefore ordered Admiral Ting to collect his fleet at Port Arthur, and watch the sea-approach to the capital.

The Japanese were therefore able to land their troops in Korea without interruption, and soon overran the peninsula. When they were advancing to capture Ping-yang, the Chinese began to concentrate a second army to defend the crossing of the Yalu River, the entrance into Southern Manchuria. It was now evident even to the Pekin mandarins that the Japanese plans did not at this stage of the war include a raid on the Pei-ho and the Chinese capital, so Admiral Ting was at last allowed to go to sea, in order to protect the movement of transports along the western shores of the Korean Bay to the mouth of the Yalu.

On 14 September five large steamers crowded with troops left Taku under the convoy of six Chinese cruisers and four torpedo boats, bound for the mouth of the Yalu River. Next day, as they passed Talienwan Bay, near Port Arthur, they were joined by Ting with the rest of the fleet. On the second day they safely reached their destination, and the troops were disembarked. And early on the 17th Ting again put to sea with his fleet to return to Port Arthur.

He had expected to have to fight the Japanese on his outward voyage, and he knew that there was a still greater chance of meeting them on his way back down the bay. He had a few white officers with him. On board his flagship, the armour-clad "Ting-yuen" was a German artillery officer, Major von Hanneken. On the other battleship was Commander McGiffen, formerly of the United States navy, nominally second in command to the Chinese captain of the "Chen-yuen," but practically acting as her commander. On some of the other ships there were a few British-born engineer or gunnery officers, and some of the latter had been petty officers in the English navy. By the advice of these non-Chinese officers Ting had done something to remedy the defects of his fleet.

A good deal of woodwork had been cut away and thrown overboard, though far too much of it still remained, and on several ships there was a dangerous quantity of carved ornamental wood on the upper works, much of it all the more inflammable because it was gilded and lacquered in bright colours which it was the practice to clean with oiled rags. The thin steel roofs of barbettes, and the shields of many of the guns, had been removed, as the "Tsi-yuen's" experiences in the fight with the "Naniwa Kan" had shown that such light steel did not keep out the shells of the Japanese quick-firers, but served only to ensure their bursting with deadly effect. Sometimes a gun-shield had burst a shell, which if there had been no such attempt at protection would perhaps have passed harmlessly over the heads of the gunners. Round the barbettes of the ships sacks of coal were stacked as an emergency method of strengthening these defences. Of coal the fleet had an abundance, but it was woefully short of ammunition, and much of what was on board was old and defective. If Ting had had more professional knowledge and training, he would have been more anxious as to the probable result of a battle.

Where were Admiral Ito and the Japanese fleet? Early in August he had crossed the Yellow Sea with his cruiser squadron, and shown himself before Port Arthur and Wei-hai-Wei. He drew the fire of the seaward forts at long range, and replied with a few shots, but he made no attack. He was engaged only in a reconnaissance, and was quite satisfied when he ascertained that the Chinese ships were remaining in harbour. He then returned to the Korean side of the Yellow Sea, and till nearly the middle of September was employed in escorting the convoys of transports from Japan, and protecting the disembarkation of the reinforcements they were bringing to Korea.

On Friday, 14 September—the same day on which the Chinese convoy with the reinforcements for Manchuria left Taku—Ito had completed his work in connection with the transport of Japanese troops, having landed the last detachments at Chinampo in the estuary of the Ta-tung River. Higher up the river General Nodzu's army was attacking the Chinese walled town of Ping-yang. Ito sent his gunboats up the Ta-tung to co-operate with Nodzu, and leaving his torpedo boats at the river mouth, went to sea with his fleet. He steered for the mouth of the Yalu River, intending to reconnoitre the Chinese positions there, and obtain information as to the reported concentration of troops near the river mouth, but under the belief that the enemy's fleet was still at Port Arthur, Admiral Ting was just as ignorant of his enemy's position and movements. Early on the morning of Monday, 17 September, he had expended some ammunition in practice at floating targets off the mouth of the Yalu. The fleet had then anchored, and the men were given a rest while the cooks got dinner ready. This was about 11 a.m. A little later there was unexpected news, that interrupted the cooking. The look-outs at the mastheads of the anchored fleet reported that the smoke of many steamers was rising above the horizon far away to the south-westward. It was a bright sunny day, with a perfectly smooth sea, clear air, and a blue sky, and the look-out men could easily make out that the smoke rising above the skyline came from a long line of funnels. Admiral Ting had no doubt it was the Japanese fleet, and he gave orders to weigh anchor and clear for action.

Early that morning Admiral Ito had heard from coasting craft that the Chinese fleet was at sea, and one trader retailed to him a rumour that the fleet was anchored behind Hai-Yang island, where there was a sheltered roadstead. But on reaching Hai-Yang he found only a few fishing-boats lying behind the island. He continued his voyage towards the Yalu, now anticipating a meeting with Ting, unless the Chinese admiral had already run down the other coast of the bay, and so passed him at a distance during the previous night.

Ito's fleet was steaming in line ahead, and was organized in two squadrons. The van squadron was led by his second in command, Admiral Tsuboi, who had hoisted his flag on the fast cruiser "Yoshino." After her in succession came the cruisers "Takachico," "Akitsushima," and "Naniwa Kan." Then there was a considerable interval between the van squadron and the leading ship of the main squadron, the cruiser "Matsushima," flying Count Ito's flag. Next to her came the armoured cruiser "Chiyoda"; then the "Matsushima's" two sister ships, the cruisers "Ikitsushima" and "Hashidate." The four ships of the van squadron and the four leading ships of the main squadron represented the chief strength of Ito's fleet, his eight modern cruisers. After them came the two old ironclads "Hiyei" and "Fuso," the gunboat "Akagi," and the small armed merchant steamer "Saikio Maru." The long line of warships steaming swiftly through the sunlight must have looked more like a fleet arrayed for some festive occasion than squadrons prepared for imminent battle, for every ship was painted a brilliant white, with the gilded device of the chrysanthemum forming a broad golden shield on her bows, and the red-and-white sun flag of Japan flew from every masthead.

At half-past eleven, half an hour after the Chinese had perceived the approach of the Japanese fleet, the "Yoshino," which was leading the advancing line of the van squadron, signalled that there was a dense mass of black smoke on the horizon inshore. This was the smoke produced by Ting's furnaces, as his ships hurriedly stoked their fires to get full pressure on the boilers. Then the Chinese fleet was seen coming out and forming in line of battle.

Admiral Ting formed his ships in line abreast, that is side by side with every bow towards the enemy. In the centre were the two little battleships, with the armoured cruisers, "Lai-yuen" and "King-yuen," to right and left of them. On each flank of these four heavy ships there was a group of three unarmoured cruisers—the "Ching-yuen," "Chao-yung," and "Yang-wei"—on the right; and the "Chi-yuen," "Kwang-chia," and "Tsi-yuen," on the left. These were the ten ships on which he relied to bear the brunt of the fighting. Away to the left flank and rear of the line, and nearer the shore, was the small, armour-clad "Ping-yuen," the corvette "Kwang-ping," and four torpedo boats. The Chinese fleet was under easy steam. The ships were painted a dull black, but had a large amount of gilding and colour on their bows, upper works, and deck-houses, and they were all dressed with flags. The decks had been strewn with sand, to prevent accidents by men slipping, and flooded with water from the fire hose to minimize the danger of fire.





The fleets were now rapidly closing. McGiffen, the American officer of the "Chen-yuen," was impressed with the "holiday aspect" of the scene. "The twenty-two ships," he wrote in an account of the battle, "trim and fresh in their paint and their bright new bunting, and gay with fluttering signal flags, presented such a holiday aspect, that one found a difficulty in realizing that they were not there simply for a friendly meeting."

When the range of the leading Japanese ship—the "Yoshino"—was just 5400 metres, or something less than 3 1/2 miles, the Chinese admiral fired one of his heavy barbette guns at her from the "Ting-yuen." The shot fell short, throwing up a great fountain of foaming water. The guns of the other Chinese ships roared out, and the line was wrapped in smoke, but the gunners had not the range in most cases, and their shooting was everywhere bad. Untouched by the hostile fire, the Japanese fleet came silently on.

At first the Japanese line had been heading directly for the Chinese centre. It now altered its course, ship after ship, the "Yoshino" leading the line so that it would pass obliquely across the right front of the enemy, and beyond the extreme right of his line, the wing of Ting's fleet that was furthest from the shore. At a range of about two miles, the "Yoshino" began replying to the Chinese fire with her bow guns and her starboard battery, and the other ships opened as they reached the same range. Thanks to McGiffen's narrative, we know what was the impression made on the few skilled observers in the Chinese fleet. The advancing line of hostile cruisers was wrapped in a dense cloud of smoke, out of which rose their tall masts. Through the smoke came a continual flicker of the long red flashes of the Japanese quick-firers. To men used to the old guns the rapidity of the fire was something startling. But the Japanese had just missed getting the range. The showers of shells were falling ahead of the Chinese ships. The sea in front of their bows was a mass of spurting columns and fountains of foam, and some of these geysers of sea-water shot up so close ahead that they splashed over the Chinese ships, and numbers of men on their forward-decks were drenched to the skin.

But as the range shortened the rain of shells began to find its target, and fell crashing and exploding on the hulls and upper-works of the Chinese line. It had now lost something of its first formation. The centre had surged forward, the wings had hung back, and it had become slightly convex. Ito in his report stated that Admiral Ting had adopted a crescent formation, but this was only the result of his ships not keeping station correctly. His order had been to fight in "line abreast." Presently the line became so irregular that some of the Chinese ships were masking each other's fire. The slow fire of the Chinese guns, ill directed as it was, did little damage to the Japanese cruisers. But the Chinese ships were already suffering from the shower of shells. The Japanese found themselves faced with an unexpected difficulty of detail. In the older type of guns the silk cartridge-case was burned when the shot was fired. But with the quick-firers the solid drawn brass case of the cartridge, a thing like a big metal can, is jerked out by an extractor as the breech-block is swung back after firing, and these brass cases began to accumulate in heaps at the gun positions. Extra men were sent to the batteries to throw them overboard.

The "Yoshino" was now on the extreme flank of Ting's right, about a mile away from the "Yang-wei." Count Ito signalled from the "Matsushima" for the van squadron to circle round the enemy's fleet by changing its course to starboard. This would bring the weaker ships of the hostile squadron under a cross-fire from the van squadron, sweeping round astern of them, and the main squadron crossing their bows obliquely. At the same time the ships on the Chinese left had most of their guns masked by their consorts, and could only fire at relatively long range with their bow guns at the rearward ships of the Japanese main squadron. Ting was out-generalled, and was paying the penalty of a bad formation. His weak right wing was in imminent danger of being crushed by superior numbers and weight of fire.

The two ironclads in the Chinese centre had been made the target of the heaviest guns in Ito's fleet. Theoretically these guns should have been able to pierce even the heavily armoured plating of the barbettes, but no projectile penetrated the armour of the two ships, though shot after shot came thundering against them. Their unarmoured parts were pierced again and again, the shells bursting as they entered, and lighting several fires that were extinguished with difficulty.

But the unarmoured ships on the Chinese right were suffering terribly under the cross-fire of the enemy's van and main squadrons. The two outer ships on this flank were the "Chao Yung" and the "Yang-wei." Each of these ships had a barbette armed with a 10-inch gun fore and aft. Amidships was a raised structure carrying machine guns on its roof, and having on each side of it a passage, off which opened a range of wooden cabins, oil-painted and varnished. Under the rain of bursting shells these masses of dry, inflammable woodwork were soon ablaze; the fire spreading rapidly made it impossible to bring up ammunition for the guns, and the two cruisers drifted helplessly out of the line, each wrapped in clouds of black smoke, through which long tongues of red flame shot up into the air.

On the other flank practically no damage had been done by the few shots fired by the Japanese in this direction. But here there was a miserable display of cowardice on the part of the Chinese. The ship on the extreme left was the "Tsi-yuen," which still bore the marks of her encounter with the "Naniwa Kan," in the first days of the war. The experiences of that adventure had evidently got on the nerves of Captain Fong, who commanded her. As the Japanese line swung round the other flank, he suddenly left his station and steamed at full speed away from his admiral, crossing astern of the Japanese, at what he thought a safe distance, and heading for Port Arthur. The rearmost Japanese cruiser, the "Chiyoda," sent a shell after him, that dismounted one of his guns, and added wings to his flight. The "Kwang-chia," the next ship in the Chinese line, followed his bad example, and leaving the battle raging behind them, the two cruisers soon disappeared over the south-western horizon. Fong, with the "Tsi-yuen," reached Port Arthur. He said he had been in the thick of the fight, and only left it when the day was lost. But the evidence of his own crew was against him. He was promptly tried by court-martial and beheaded. The other ship, the "Kwang-chia," never reached Port Arthur. She was wrecked during the night after the battle, with much loss of life, on a reef outside Talienwan Bay.

There were some other instances of half-heartedness or worse among the Chinese as the fight developed, but on the whole they fought bravely, and many showed the most self-sacrificing courage.

While the large Japanese cruisers of the two squadrons kept perfect station and distance, and enveloped the Chinese right wing with as much precision as if they had been carrying out a fleet exercise in peace manoeuvres, the older ships in their line, less speedy and handy, had dropped astern, and were under fire from Ting's two ironclads in the centre. The "Fuso" was at one time so close to them that one of the ironclads made an attempt to ram her, but the Japanese ship evaded it, and running along the broken front of the enemy, rejoined the main cruiser squadron. The other of the old Japanese ironclads, the "Hiyei," boldly steamed between the Chinese battleships, amid a storm of fire. Two torpedoes were discharged at her, but both missed, and she joined the van squadron in the Chinese rear. The little "Akagi" was for a while the target of many of the Chinese guns, and one of her masts went over the side. Ito had signalled to her, and to the armed merchantman, "Saikio Maru," that they might keep out of the fight, but Japanese courage would not allow of this. The "Saikio Maru" had a narrow escape. As the two burning cruisers drifted away from the Chinese right, making for the Yalu, the "Saikio" pursued them, firing her light guns. Two Chinese gunboats opened upon her and four torpedo boats steamed out to attack her. But she turned her fire on them, and some of the Japanese cruisers helped her by accurate shooting at long range. The Chinese flotilla, which had expected an easy prey, turned back, and gunboats and torpedo boats disappeared in the Yalu estuary.

But in the brief encounter the "Saikio Maru" had received a good deal of damage from the light guns of the hostile flotilla. Her funnel was riddled, and several steam-pipes cut through. She retired from the engagement. With her went the "Hiyei," which had been seriously damaged in her dash through the Chinese centre. The "Akagi" also withdrew to clear her decks, which were encumbered with wreckage. The fall of her mast had killed her captain, Sakamoto, and her two lieutenants were badly wounded.

So far Ting had lost four of his unarmoured cruisers, and Ito had sent out of the fight three of his ships, the old ironclad "Hiyei," the gunboat "Akagi," and the armed steamer "Saikio Maru." But none of these were fighting units of serious value. His two squadrons of protected cruisers were intact, and it was on these he counted for victory.

The second phase of the battle was a prolonged cannonade at a range of from one to two miles. Thanks to the superior speed of the Japanese fleet, Ito could choose position and distance, and the training of his officers and men enabled him to concentrate his fire now on one part, now on another, of the straggling Chinese line. His ships poured out a steady shower of shells, whose heavy bursting charges not only scattered hurtling fragments of steel among the Chinese crews, but also had a tendency to light a hot fire wherever they exploded. The Chinese had a very poor supply of inferior ammunition, most of it armour-piercing projectiles, that were practically solid shot. Their fire was slow and ill-directed, and even when it found its target the damage done was seldom serious.

Two more Chinese ships were soon disposed of. The cruiser "Chi-yuen" had been pluckily fought by her Chinese captain, Tang, and her English engineer, Purvis. She had received several shots between wind and water, and was leaking badly. Tang knew she could not be long kept afloat, and he made a desperate resolution to attempt to ram a Japanese ship before he went down. As the enemy's van squadron, headed by the "Yoshino," came sweeping to closer range with the Chinese left the "Chi-yuen" made a dash for the leading cruiser. Even if she had not been half-sinking already, the Chinese ship had neither the speed nor handiness to ram the swiftest ship in the enemy's line. As the "Chi-yuen" came on, the guns of the van squadron were concentrated on her. She was enveloped in a fierce storm of bursting shells, and suddenly her bows plunged in the sea, her twin screws whizzed for a moment in the air, and then all that was left to show where she had sunk was floating wreckage and drowning men. Purvis went down with his ship. Tang was seen swimming on an oar for a few minutes, with a big dog—a pet of his—paddling near him. Then the dog put its paws on his shoulders, and he was forced under and drowned.

Another Chinese cruiser, the "Lai-yuen," which lay in the line to the right of the two armour-clads, was now seen to be burning fiercely. On board this ship the Chinese engine-room staff showed devoted courage. While the fire spread through the upper works, so that after the fight many of the iron deck beams were bare and twisted out of shape, not one of the brave men below quitted his post. Stokers, engineers, mechanics worked almost naked, in heat like that of a furnace. Some died, all were in the doctor's hands after the fight, but they kept the engines going, obeyed orders, and brought the half-burnt ship out of action.

More than half of the Chinese fleet had now been destroyed or beaten off, without any loss to the main fighting force of the Japanese. Disregarding the Chinese cruisers, which were now badly cut up and firing harmlessly at long range, Ito concentrated his attack on the two armour-clads. Though each ship was hit more than four hundred times, their armour was never pierced. Yet the Japanese had some guns that theoretically should have penetrated it. Battle results are, however, often very different from experimental work on the testing range.

Early in the fight a Japanese shell had cut down the foremast of the Chinese flagship, sending overboard and drowning seven men who manned the top—carrying away also the signal yards, so that no orders could for some time be conveyed to the fleet. But for more than an hour Admiral Ting was in no condition to give orders. Almost at the outset he had carelessly taken a position that brought him within the danger arc of the blast from his own big barbette guns. He was stunned, and for a while it was thought that he was dead. The ship was fought by two European officers, Herr Albrecht, a German, and Mr. Nicholls, who had formerly been a petty officer in the British navy. Albrecht distinguished himself by more than once going to terribly exposed positions, and personally handling the hose with which he extinguished the fires lighted by the Japanese shells. Nicholls directed the barbette guns with a cool courage worthy of the service in which he had been trained, until he was killed by a bursting shell.

Two other white men, the German soldier, Captain von Hanneken, and the American commander, McGiffen, took a prominent part in the fighting on board the other armour-clad, the "Chen-yuen." Both had more than one narrow escape. Von Hanneken was stunned for a while by an explosion, and slightly wounded while at the barbette guns. When the lacquered woodwork of the bow burst into flame and smoke, and none of the Chinese would go forward to extinguish it, McGiffen, who was in command of the ship, dragged the fire-hose to the danger point. Just as he had drowned the fire he was wounded in two places and stunned by a bursting shell. He had told the men in the barbette not to reopen fire till he rejoined them, but, to his horror, as he recovered from the shock he saw the guns swing round and point directly over the bow. He escaped being blown to pieces by dropping through an open hatchway. Altogether during the fight the "Chen-yuen" was on fire eight times.

Most of the Chinese crew fought pluckily, but there were some skulkers. McGiffen tells how once, when there was something wrong with the revolving gear of the barbette guns, and he went down into a recess under the barbette to clear it, he saw a group of frightened men huddled in the semi-darkness, and heard the voice of a Chinese officer saying: "You can't hide down here. There are too many of us already." But he tells also of the courage of others. The captain of one of the guns was killed as he prepared to fire, the man's head being shattered by a shell, and his brains scattered over the gun. Another man dragged the corpse away, took the lanyard, looked along the sights, and fired without a moment's hesitation. Tsao-kai, the gunnery lieutenant, was badly wounded and taken below. He had brought his brother, a mere boy, on board for a holiday, and had him beside him in the barbette. The boy remained there to the end, helping to pass up ammunition, and apparently regarding the fight as an interesting game, though he was the only unwounded individual in the barbette when the battle ended.

McGiffen asserts that when the fight began the "Chen-yuen" had in her magazine, besides a quantity of armour-piercing (almost solid) shot, only three really effective shells for the 12-inch guns. Two of these were fired early in the day. In the afternoon, in handling the ammunition, a third was discovered. It was fired at the "Matsushima," Ito's flagship, and did terrible execution. Ito, in his report, says that the incident occurred at 3.26 p.m., and that the shell came from the "Ting-yuen," but this appears to have been a mistake. The shell dismounted a 5-inch gun, seriously damaged two more, and exploded a quantity of quick-firing ammunition that was lying ready near the guns. According to the Japanese official report, forty-six men were killed or badly wounded. Unofficial narratives make the loss even greater. One officer was simply blown to pieces. The flame of the explosion set the ship on fire, and she was for a while in imminent danger of destruction.

"The crew," writes Mr. H. W. Wilson, "with unabated gallantry and courage, divided their attention between the fire and the enemy. The bandsmen went to the guns, and, though the position of the ship was critical, and her loss appalling, there was no panic. The fire was on the lower deck, just above the magazine. In charge of the magazine were a gunner's mate and a seaman. The shell had apparently dented the plating over the powder, and the red glow through the crevices showed the danger. But these brave men did not abandon their post. Stripping off their clothes, they crammed them into the cracks, and saved the 'Matsushima'; though nearly a third of the men above the waterline had been put out of action, the remnant got the fire under."

While the fire was still burning the "Matsushima" steamed out of the fight, and Ito transferred his flag to the cruiser "Hashidate." This was really the second narrow escape the "Matsushima" had experienced during the battle. Early in the fight a 10-inch shell had passed through her side, killed four men in her torpedo-room, narrowly missed a loaded torpedo, smashed up an oil-tank, and then broke into pieces. Examination of the fragments showed there was no trace of a fuse, and a plug of cement filled the place where the bursting charge should have been. It was really a bad specimen of a solid shot. If it had been a live shell, it might well have destroyed the "Matsushima." It was thanks to the wretched ammunition supplied by swindling contractors to the mandarins that the Japanese were able to fight the battle with such trifling loss.

After the transfer of Ito's flag to the "Hashidate" the battle became a cannonade at an increasing range. The Chinese ammunition was running low, and Ito, after having had his quick-firers in action for hours, had also his magazines nearly empty. The heavy fire of the afternoon had failed to destroy the two little "battleships" that represented the only remaining effective units of the Chinese fleet. Ito had accomplished enough in the destruction of the Chinese cruisers, and he had no intention of giving their torpedo boats a chance, by spending the night near the mouth of the Yalu River. At half-past five he broke off the engagement.

Shortness of ammunition supply and exhaustion of officers and men were probably his real reasons, for the explanation he gave in his official report is not very convincing. "About 5.30 p.m.," he writes, "seeing that the 'Chen-yuen' and the 'Ting-yuen' had been joined by other ships, and that my van squadron was separated by a great distance from my main force, and considering that sunset was approaching, I discontinued the action, and recalled my main squadron by signal. As the enemy's vessels proceeded on a southerly course, I assumed that they were making for Wei-hai-wei; and having reassembled the fleet, I proceeded upon what I supposed to be a parallel course to that of the enemy, with the intention of renewing the engagement in the morning, for I judged that a night action might be disadvantageous, owing to the possibility of the ships becoming separated in the darkness, and to the fact that the enemy had torpedo boats in company. However, I lost sight of the Chinese, and at daylight there were no signs of the enemy."

There really were no ships of any importance available to join the Chinese ironclads, so one is puzzled to imagine what Ito saw. It was only when the firing died away that Admiral Ting sent orders to the "Kwang-ping," the transports, gunboats, and torpedo craft to come out. Only the "Kwang-ping" and the torpedo boats obeyed. As the sun went down he formed line ahead, and steered for Port Arthur. First came the two ironclads; then the "Lai-yuen," with her upper works still on fire in places; then the "Ching-yuen," "Ping-yuen," "Kwang-ping," and the torpedo boats. Far astern the abandoned "Chao-yung" blazed like a bonfire in the twilight. Ting honestly believed he had beaten off the Japanese fleet, and on his arrival at Port Arthur reported a victory. But though Japanese opinion was not quite satisfied, Ito had so damaged the Chinese fleet that henceforth he held command of the sea. He had won his success with comparatively small loss. Of all the units of his fleet his flagship, the "Matsushima," had suffered most. She had two officers killed and three wounded, and 33 men killed and 71 wounded, a total of 109, and about a third of the losses in the entire fleet. The "Hiyei" came next in the casualty list, with 56 killed and wounded. The losses of the other ships were trifling. The "Ikitsushima" had 31 killed and wounded; the "Akagi," 28; the "Akitsushima," 15; the "Fuso," 14; and the "Yoshino" and "Saikio," each 11. The "Takachico" had an officer and two men wounded; the "Naniwa Kan" (Captain Togo's ship) one man wounded. The "Chiyoda," which lay next to the "Matsushima," in the main squadron, had not one single casualty. The official return of losses gave these totals:—