Emperor of Japan: Meiji and His World, 1852’1912 (112 page)

In the meantime, the First Army, under the command of General Yamagata Aritomo, had advanced beyond the Yalu River into China. His supply lines were extremely extended, and he was faced with a difficult decision—whether to continue the advance or to go into winter quarters. Imperial headquarters favored the latter, believing it was advisable at this point to shift from the attack to defense, but hoping to rival the victory of the Second Army at Port Arthur and fearful that a protracted period of waiting might seriously impair morale, the senior officers of the First Army were eager to penetrate deeper into Chinese territory. Yamagata had already (on November 3) submitted three possible plans of future action to the imperial headquarters and expressed his readiness to carry out whichever one they chose. The plans were (1) landing in the vicinity of Shanhaikuan and securing a base for an attack on Peking, (2) massing his forces in the Port Arthur peninsula and establishing a supply base at an ice-free port on the coast, or (3) marching to the north and attacking Feng-t’ien (the present Hsien-yang).
³

Imperial headquarters rejected all three plans, but Yamagata, dissatisfied with this response, on November 25 issued an order to the Third Division to attack Hai-ch’eng, a strategic communications junction. It
ō
Hirobumi, enraged by Yamagata’s disregard of imperial headquarters, persuaded the emperor to issue a rescript on November 29 recalling him to Japan. The official line was that Yamagata was suffering from a stomach ailment and that the emperor was concerned about his health, but the central message was the command that Yamagata return to Japan at once, ostensibly so that the emperor might hear from him personally about the situation at the front.
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By this time, however, the First Army had already reached the area of Hai-ch’eng, where it encountered the stiffest Chinese resistance to date. Japanese troops occupied Hai-ch’eng on December 13, but the Chinese, in sharp contrast to their actions after earlier battles of the war, did not resign themselves to losing the city. They tried five times to take back Hai-ch’eng,
⁵
and it was with the utmost difficulty that the Japanese repelled these attacks. For a time it even seemed that the Chinese might reverse the tide of the war.
⁶
The most serious threat came toward the end of February when the Chinese commanding general, Liu K’un-i, drew up a plan to mobilize 100,000 men and use this force to encircle and destroy the Japanese army at Hai-ch’eng. The plan was opposed by the Chinese imperial headquarters, and permission from the emperor was not obtained. The failure of the Chinese high command to implement Liu’s plan may have saved the Japanese from a disastrous battle.

The Japanese troops at the front suffered more from the cold than from enemy action. Hundreds of soldiers were stricken with frostbite. On December 19 troops of the Third Division left Hai-ch’eng at dawn to attack Chinese forces heading toward Niu-chang. There was more than a foot of snow on the roads, which severely hampered their movements. The Japanese fought well, taking several fortified places, but Chinese resistance was strong, and by the end of the day the Japanese were exhausted by the fighting and the cold. As it grew dark, the commanding officer, Katsura Tar
ō
, ordered the troops to return to Hai-ch’eng at once, but they were so worn out that it was not until the next morning that they straggled back to Hai-ch’eng.

Among the innumerable
nishikie
executed during the Sino-Japanese War, the most affecting are those that show soldiers in the intense Manchurian cold and snow, sometimes gathered around a fire, sometimes lying in the snow as they aim their rifles, sometimes mounted on horses that are suffering as much as the men from the cold.
⁷
At first the Japanese troops, despite the intense cold, were dressed in summer uniforms because winter uniforms had not caught up with them, and the feet of horses that carried men over the icy surfaces were not protected by horseshoes. But the advance continued.

After Detring’s failure to meet with It
ō
, the Chinese sent messages through the American minister to China, Charles Denby, and the American minister to Japan, Edwin Dun, asking for a summary of Japanese peace terms and saying that they could not appoint an envoy without this knowledge. The Japanese reply stated that they would not state their terms until after they had met with a plenipotentiary delegate equipped with the proper credentials.
⁸
Once again using American ministers as their intermediaries, the Chinese informed the Japanese that they would follow the Japanese suggestion and appoint plenipotentiaries, and they requested a meeting with Japanese delegates in Shanghai. The Japanese replied that the meeting must take place in Japan. The Chinese proposed Nagasaki as the site because of its proximity to China, but the Japanese insisted on Hiroshima. They promised that a meeting would take place within forty-eight hours after the arrival of the Chinese.
⁹

Despite the urgency of Chinese appeals to end the war, their representatives did not reach Hiroshima until January 31. The Japanese government appointed It
ō
Hirobumi and Mutsu Munemitsu to meet with their opposite numbers, but from the outset there were complaints that the Chinese delegates were of comparatively minor office and rank, giving rise to doubts as to whether the Chinese were sincerely interested in negotiating. It was further discovered that they did not bear certificates of investiture with full powers but only what they called an official paper and an order from the Chinese emperor appointing the two men to the mission. The powers of these men to negotiate were not plainly stated. The Chinese emperor clearly expected them to report by telegram each development and to await his commands before proceeding. The Japanese asked the Chinese to reply in writing whether they in fact possessed plenipotentiary powers in conducting negotiations for peace. In the note they submitted on February 2, they admitted that they lacked the authority to make decisions on their own. It
ō
thereupon declared that further negotiations were not possible.
¹⁰

Even while these meetings were taking place, Japanese troops, which had landed January 20 at Ying-ch’eng Bay on the northern coast of the Shantung Peninsula, were advancing on Weihaiwei, the last stronghold of the Chinese fleet. On February 2 the Second Army occupied the city of Weihaiwei without resistance, and the Japanese Combined Fleet succeeded in bottling up the remainder of the Chinese North Sea Fleet in the bay.
¹¹
There was still severe shelling from Chinese batteries on Liu-kung Island, hampering action against the Chinese fleet. Japanese torpedo boats managed to sneak past the island on the night of February 5 and, approaching to 150 or 300 feet of their targets, were able to sink or heavily damage three of the principal Chinese warships.
¹²
Another attack, carried out on the night of the sixth, damaged two more warships. On the seventh, Japanese warships bombarded two islands in the bay, Liukungtao and Jih-tao. The ammunition depot on Jih-tao was hit and exploded. This disaster seems to have destroyed the Chinese will to resist.
¹³

About noon on February 9, a Japanese shell hit the magazine of the warship
Ching-yüan
, causing it to explode. When the captain of the
Ting-yüan
saw this happen, he ordered his ship (which had been damaged) to be scuttled and then turned his pistol on himself. On the following day the captains of the surviving Chinese warships urged Admiral Ting Ju-chang to surrender. Ting sent word commanding them to fight to the finish, but not one officer concurred. Admiral Ting, having no choice, sent word to Admiral It
ō
Sukeyuki (1843–1914) asking to surrender. Earlier, Admiral It
ō
had proposed surrender to Admiral Ting. His letter, written in English in order to permit Admiral Ting’s foreign advisers to participate in the discussions for surrender, read in part:

Honored Sir: The unfortunate turn of events has made us enemies; but as the warfare of today does not imply animosity between each and all individuals, we hope that our former friendship is still warm enough to assure Your Excellency that these lines, which we address to you with your kind permission, are dictated by a motive higher than that of a mere challenge to surrender.
¹⁴

When Admiral It
ō
received the message from Admiral Ting indicating that he wished to surrender, he sent back wine, champagne, and dried persimmons in a gesture of consolation and
politesse
. On the morning of February 12, the Chinese gunboat
Chen-pei
, raising a white flag, approached the
Matsushima
, flagship of the Combined Fleet, with a message from Admiral Ting to Admiral It
ō
formally asking to surrender. He sought a guarantee of safety for the Chinese troops and foreign advisers in exchange for the surrender of ships and arms in the Weihaiwei area. On the sixteenth, Admiral Ting composed a poem in which he took responsibility for the loss of the Chinese navy and then drank poison.

Admiral Ting’s final gesture earned him the respect of the Japanese. His last moments before drinking the poison were depicted sympathetically by artists of the
nishikie
. In Mizuno Toshikata’s print, Admiral Ting, holding the glass of poison in his hand, looks out on the ships burning in the harbor; Migita Toshihide’s print of the same moment shows a much heavier man, slumped in his chair, a vial of poison on a nearby table, as he reads over his final testament.

On learning of Admiral Ting’s death, Admiral It
ō
ordered the ships of his fleet to display flags of mourning and to refrain from playing music except for ceremonies. He asked a Chinese officer who was arranging details of the surrender which of the Chinese ships could carry the most men. The officer replied that because all but the
Kuang Chi
were warships, they were not intended to carry troops; however, the
Kuang Chi
was originally a transport and could probably carry 2,000 men. It
ō
then revealed that he had been discussing with other Japanese officers what should be done with Admiral Ting’s coffin. They suggested that it be loaded aboard a Chinese junk with other coffins and taken out to sea, but Admiral It
ō
replied, “He was the supreme commander of the Northern Sea Fleet…. Even though he has been defeated, a son of Japan could not bear to allow the coffin of a commodore to be loaded aboard a mere junk. As a mark of my esteem for his soul, I will exempt the
Kuang Chi
from impounding and will allow you to dispose of it as you see fit. After the commodore’s coffin is loaded aboard, if there is room for others, I will not prevent you from taking aboard other military personnel.”
¹⁵

A foreign observer reported, “The Japanese fleet paid a touching tribute to the memory of a brave opponent. As the ship steamed out of the harbor, all the vessels had their flags at half-mast, and from Count It
ō
’s flagship minute guns were fired for some time after the vessel sailed. The European warships at Weihaiwei also lowered their flags, as a testimony to the bravery exhibited by the late admiral.”
¹⁶

Admiral It
ō
was extraordinarily generous to his fallen foe. He not only authorized the Chinese to evacuate as many soldiers as could be accommodated aboard the
Kuang Chi
but permitted civilians to leave Weihaiwei if that was their choice. The battle for Weihaiwei had ended not only in a Japanese victory but also with a vindication of the Japanese code of the samurai after the horrors of Port Arthur.

As commander in chief, the emperor undoubtedly learned of the victory soon afterward, but his days seem otherwise to have been passed monotonously. He attended many policy sessions, but (as was true of his presence at meetings at which the constitution was hammered out), he apparently never said a word. On New Year’s Day 1895, none of the usual palace ceremonies was performed, but the emperor watched others play
kemari
¹⁷
and had an officer read to him passages from the
Tale of the Heike
. This was probably the first time the traditional lecture delivered before the emperor at the beginning of the year consisted of a work of his own choice.

In December, Prince Taruhito was stricken with typhoid fever. Again and again he seemed to be recovering, only for the illness to return. He left Hiroshima to recuperate at his villa on the coast at Maiko, but the change of air did him no good. The emperor bestowed decorations on the dying man, including the Order of the Golden Kite; Taruhito was the first recipient of this award. Despite the medical attentions showered on him, Taruhito died on January 15. His illness had been kept a secret, for fear it might have an adverse effect on the troops, but on the twenty-third, it was officially announced that he was in critical condition. His body was sent back to T
ō
ky
ō
, but not even the emperor was informed that Taruhito was dead. On the twenty-third an officer he sent to inquire after Taruhito’s health first learned of his death. A state funeral was held on January 29. The emperor sent a pair of
sakaki
branches to the funeral, the first time this gift was made to a person who was not an imperial prince or princess.
¹⁸

The emperor’s emotions on learning of Taruhito’s death are not known, but surely it was a blow to lose another of the figures who had been by his side at the time of the Restoration. Taruhito’s successor as chief of the general staff was Prince Akihito.
¹⁹