Emperor of Japan: Meiji and His World, 1852’1912 (110 page)

Japan’s success on land was followed by a major victory at sea. On September 17, the day after the fall of Pyongyang, a battle was fought in the Yellow Sea between the Japanese Combined Fleet and the Chinese Northern Sea Fleet, the first naval battle fought between ships using steam power. The Japanese fleet, consisting of eleven warships, was under the command of Vice Admiral It
ō
Sukeyuki aboard the flagship
Matsushima
. The Chinese fleet of twelve ships had somewhat smaller tonnage and was slower than the Japanese, but two of the ships (the flagship,
Ting-yüan
, and the
Chen-yüan
) were ironclads and said to be the most powerful ships in the East.
¹⁸
German, British, and American officers were aboard some of the Chinese ships.

On the morning of the battle, a column of smoke was detected on the horizon, and soon many similar columns made it clear that the Chinese fleet had been encountered. At about one in the afternoon the
Ting-yüan
opened fire at a distance about 10,000 feet. The Japanese fleet responded with intense fire. The Japanese ships suffered severe damage, including a hit on the
Matsushima
, but not a single Chinese ship escaped damage, and three were sunk. Although the two ironclads managed to retreat to Port Arthur, control of the seas around not only Korea but also north China had passed into the hands of the Japanese.
¹⁹

This naval battle also produced a hero, a sailor aboard the
Matsushima
who had been badly wounded by a shell from a Chinese ironclad. With his dying breath he asked the officer who comforted him, “Hasn’t the
Ting-yüan
sunk yet?” Sasaki Nobutsuna composed a poem using these words which, set to music, became the most haunting of the many songs that came out of the war. It concludes:

“Hasn’t the
Ting-yüan
sunk yet?”

These words, though brief,

Will long be engraved in the hearts

Of loyal subjects who strive for Our Country.

“Hasn’t the
Ting-yüan
sunk yet?”

These words from a sincere heart

Will be recorded in the burning breasts

Of loyal subjects who love Our Country.
²⁰

The sailor, like the bugler and the wall climber, was a humble member of the Japanese armed forces. Their elevation to immortality made the victory over China seem that of the entire Japanese people rather than (as in earlier Japanese warfare) a victory won by samurai swords.

Although the emperor was the supreme commander, he did not intervene in the conduct of the war. His reason for being in Hiroshima was to reassure the fighting men that he was with them in spirit and to inspire them to perform deeds of valor and patriotism.
²¹
This was why he insisted on enduring discomfort, not permitting himself any luxury denied to men at the front. He refused to have the empress or court ladies serve him because there were no women helping the men at the front, and he depended instead on chamberlains who performed household duties awkwardly.
²²

When not reading dispatches from the front, the emperor occasionally amused himself by playing
kemari
(kickball) or archery. In an attempt to relieve the tedium, members of his staff showed him swords and objects of art from different parts of the Hiroshima region. Sometimes the emperor had members of his staff with a reputation for skill at drawing paint pictures on subjects he assigned. Once in a while he himself drew pictures. Hinonishi Sukehiro, a chamberlain, recalled, “His pictures were not very good, but I thought if I were given one it would be a treasure for my house. But he would tear up a picture at once and I never received one.”
²³

It is surprising that the emperor did not compose more poetry during his stay in Hiroshima.
²⁴
He did, however, compose the war song “The Battle of Song-hwan,” which contains such lines as

Our dauntless warriors

Stepping over the corpses of friend and foe,

Advance, their spirits high.
²⁵

The poem, set to music, on October 26 was sung to the accompaniment of a military band while the emperor had his dinner. The music, however, did not please the emperor, and two days later it was sung to the music of “The Sound of Bugles” by Kat
ō
Yoshikiyo, a piece the emperor liked so much that he had it played after dinner almost every evening.
²⁶
The emperor also composed a n
ō
play called
The Battle of Song-hwan
. He asked an official of the Interior Ministry to add musical notation, and the resulting work was sung in his presence.
²⁷

The emperor’s life in Hiroshima was enlivened by the special session of the imperial Diet that met in Hiroshima from October 18 to October 22. Minister of Communications Kuroda Kiyotaka and Interior Minister Inoue Kaoru had proposed to It
ō
Hirobumi that the Diet meet in Hiroshima, arguing that it would have a more powerful effect on the Diet members if the emperor himself read his rescript on opening the session, rather than if somebody else read it in T
ō
ky
ō
, and it was so arranged. The emperor’s message expressed regret that China, having forgotten its duty to maintain peace in the Orient, had brought about the present situation. Now that hostilities had broken out, Japan would not stop until its goals had been attained. He hoped that subjects of the empire, joining their efforts behind him, would achieve complete victory, speedily restoring peace in the Orient and enhancing the national glory.
²⁸

The Diet session was given over largely to discussions of how to finance the war. It was agreed to issue 100 million yen in bonds to meet the deficit. The points of view of the Diet members differed somewhat, but all were determined to see the war to a successful conclusion, and all expressed gratitude to the emperor for personally commanding the armed forces.

Even as the Diet was debating in Hiroshima, Japanese First Army troops had advanced to the banks of the Yalu River and on October 24 crossed the river. Chinese resistance was stiff, but the Japanese continued to be victorious in every clash between the two armies. On November 2 the emperor attended a banquet at the temporary Diet building to celebrate the victories. The walls were decorated with pictures depicting the boastful Yüan Shih-k’ai, the weeping Li Hung-chang, the death in battle of Tso Pao-kuei, and similar subjects. Later that day, there were performances of n
ō
and
ky
ō
gen
.
²⁹
On the following day, the emperor’s birthday, there was a party at which the emperor himself sang
Yuya
.
³⁰

On November 8 the American minister to Japan, Edwin Dun, sent the foreign minister, Mutsu Munemitsu, this message from his government:

The deplorable war between Japan and China endangers no policy of the United States of America in Asia. Our attitude toward the belligerents is that of an impartial and friendly neutral, desiring the welfare of both. If the struggle continues without check to Japan’s military operations on land and sea, it is not improbable that other powers having interests in that quarter may demand a settlement not favorable to Japan’s future security and well-being. Cherishing the most friendly sentiments of regard for Japan, the president directs that you ascertain whether a tender of his good offices in the interests of a peace alike honorable to both nations would be acceptable to the government of Japan.
³¹

Behind these words we can sense the usual American mistrust of England and the desire to have the Japanese recognize America as a friend with no territorial or other ambitions in East Asia. But Mutsu, though expressing appreciation for the American offer to mediate, replied (with the consent of the government and the emperor): “The universal success which has thus far during the conflict attended the arms of Japan would seem to relieve the imperial government of the necessity of invoking the cooperation of friendly powers to bring about a cessation of hostility.” Mutsu believed that “unless the Chinese were subjected to further military attacks, they would not feel truly repentant or sincerely desirous of peace. Also, considering that war fever in Japan continued to be rampant, we concluded that any commencement of peace talks would be premature.”
³²

Mutsu assured Dun that Japan had no wish to “press its victories beyond the limits that will guarantee to Japan the just and reasonable fruits of the war,” but other Japanese had more ambitious plans. Yamagata submitted to the emperor a memorandum on the future of Korea in which he expressed the conviction that it would be extremely difficult to guarantee the independence of Korea and to keep China from interfering. He mentioned the existence of a secret agreement to build a railway between Pusan and Seoul but said that this would be insufficient, that Japan would surely regret it later if the railway did not go all the way to Uiju, north of Pyongyang. This was a strategic area, and Japanese should be encouraged to settle there in order to minimize Chinese influence. The way between Pusan and Uiju was a highway that extended to India, and if Japan were to gain hegemony in Asia, it would have to start building the railway immediately.
³³

Yamagata’s recommendation was not acted on, but ever since the Second Army had taken Chin-chou-ch’eng on November 6, Yamagata had urgently pressed for Japanese expansion on the continent. The Chinese, unable to prevent incursions by Japanese forces deep into their territory, were desperately eager to end the war as quickly as possible. It was reported that Li Hung-chang had decided to make peace with Japan, regardless of the reparations that might be demanded. He asked various countries, including Germany and Russia, to ascertain Japanese conditions for peace. The German foreign minister refused to mediate, recommending instead that negotiations be undertaken directly with the Japanese government. The Russian foreign minister made a similar response.

The next major battle was at Port Arthur, the strongly defended home port of the Chinese North Sea Fleet. The Chinese had been building up the fortifications at great expense for more than ten years, and it was reputed to be one of the three strongest fortresses in the world. More than 10,000 troops
³⁴
manned the many gun emplacements. The Japanese commenced their assault at 1:30
A.M.
on November 22. The first line of defense was difficult to penetrate, but once these positions were taken, Chinese resistance crumbled, almost all the defenders running from the scene. Port Arthur, despite its vaunted fortifications, had fallen to the Japanese.
³⁵

On November 22, the same day that Japan and the United States concluded a new treaty of commerce and navigation, Charles Denby, the American minister in Peking, sent a cable to Edwin Dun in T
ō
ky
ō
stating that the Chinese government had authorized and requested him to make “direct overtures for peace talks.” The terms offered by the Chinese were recognition of Korea’s independence and the payment of a reasonable indemnity for military expenditures.
³⁶
The Japanese interpreted the offer (which they termed “minimal”) as meaning that the Chinese were not seriously desirous of peace. They replied that if the Chinese really wished for peace, they should appoint plenipotentiary envoys who would be informed of the Japanese conditions for ending the war.

Everything seemed to be going favorably for the Japanese when reports sent by foreign newspaper men who had witnessed the occupation of Port Arthur not only horrified readers abroad but for a time threatened Japan’s reputation as a modern, civilized country.

The first report on the Japanese troops’ actions after conquering Port Arthur was made by Thomas Cowen, a foreign correspondent of the
Times
of London. After leaving Port Arthur, he reached Hiroshima on November 29 and had an interview the following day with Foreign Minister Mutsu. Cowen astonished Mutsu with his detailed descriptions of the ghastly scenes he had witnessed. That night Mutsu sent a telegram to Hayashi Tadasu:

Today I met with a
Times
correspondent who has returned from Port Arthur. He says that after the victory the Japanese soldiers behaved in a outrageous manner. It seems to be true that they murdered prisoners who had already been tied up, and they killed civilians, even women. He said that this situation was witnessed not only by newspaper men of Europe and America, but also by officers of the fleets of different countries, notably a British rear admiral.
³⁷

Cowen asked Mutsu what Japan proposed to do to remedy the situation. Mutsu replied that if the report was true, it was most deplorable but that he could not answer until he had heard from General
Ō
yama, the commander of the Second Army. He found it difficult to believe that Japanese soldiers, who always maintained discipline, could have committed such acts, but if in fact they had occurred, there must have been some cause, and if the cause were known, it might diminish the offense somewhat. Mutsu asked Hayashi to inform him of any information that reached him.

Cowen’s first dispatch on the fighting appeared in the
Times
of December 3. It opened by giving the official Japanese view of what had occurred: Chinese soldiers, discarding their uniforms, had put on civilian clothes and carried hidden weapons, including bombs. Civilian snipers had also participated in the fighting, firing from inside the houses. The Japanese military had therefore judged that it was necessary to exterminate them. The Japanese army was further aroused by the sight of the bodies of Japanese prisoners who had been burned alive or had had their hands and feet cut off.