CHAPTER XXXVII. Destruction of the Petropavlovsk Togo Mines the Channel of Port Arthur-Decoys the Russians from the Harbor-The Pursuit-Loss of the Strashni-Silence Before the Tragedy-Petropavlovsk Blown up and Sunk-Alexieff Reports the Disaster to the Czar. N the morning of Wednesday, April 13th, the Russian navy suffered the most signal single catastrophe which occurred during the early period of the war. Admiral Makaroff, the man to whom all Russia looked as the one who would retrieve the first disasters and re-establish Slavonic supremacy on the Eastern sea, went down to his death on his flagship Petropavlovsk, which struck a Japanese mine and sank in two minutes within full view of the Japanese fleet and the Russian garrisons. This appalling disaster threw the whole of Russia into gloom and brought out many expressions of admiration from neutrals and foes of the courageous sea-fighter and his sterling qualities. Admiral Togo who had made the harassing of Port Arthur the subject of his special study for the preceding two months, conceived the ruse of countermining the harbor and decoying the Russian ships over these engines of destruction. He divided his fleet into three divisions and steamed thirty miles away, leaving two divisons on the scene. During the night of April 12th, the mine-laying transport, Koryu Maru, escorted by two divisions of destroyers, entered the harbor mouth and let down a number of floating mines directly in the open channel. Though the shore batteries opened a heavy fire on her, she managed to finish her work and get away without being hit one lucky shot might have exploded her cargo and blown her to atoms. After this exploit she rejoined her fleet, and the Russians were ignorant of what she had done. Morning dawned misty, but the Russians were all alert, owing to the firing of the previous night. At 8 A. M. Admiral Makaroff, seeing only a weak squadron menacing Port Arthur, put to sea with the following force: The battleships Petropavlovsk, Poltava and Pobieda, and the cruisers Diana, Askold, and Novik. These were joined outside by the cruiser Bayan, which had been engaged with a number of Japanese destroyers during the night. The cruiser squadron, seeing that the Russian warships had cleared the harbor, steamed out to sea with the Russian ships at full steam following after them. The Russians opened rapid fire at long range, the Japanese replying at intervals. When the Japanese had drawn the Russians out some fifteen miles they communicated the situation to Admiral Togo by wireless telegraph. Immediately on receipt of the message he signaled to the cruisers Kasaga and Niasin to join the battleship squadron and went forward at full steam. By a piece of bad luck for him the wind freshened at this moment, dispelling the mist, and Makaroff, descrying the smoke, guessed the ruse and put about at full steam for Port Arthur, all the Japanese ships pursuing him at their utmost speed. The magnificent spectacle which presented itself can not be better told than in the words of an eye-witness who, from one of the promontories of Port Arthur harbor, saw, not only the trap laid for Makaroff, but also the desperate fight of the destroyers which occurred early that morning At daybreak I made out through the light haze to the southward, about five miles from shore, six torpedoboats strung out in line, all firing. In the lead, and outstripping the others, was a boat heading at full speed directly for the entrance of the harbor. The last in line was beclouded in steam and lagging. She had evidently been hit. It was difficult to distinguish our boats, but finally, through my glasses, I saw that the leader and the laggard were Russian, and that the four others were Japanese. The torpedoboat from which steam was escaping was firing viciously. The four centre craft drew together, concentrating their fire upon her, but the crippled destroyer poured out her fire and was successfully keeping off her assailants. The signal station flashed the news to the men of the batteries that the vessel was the Strashni. The unequal combat was observed with breathless interest but the net drew close around the doomed boat. The four Japanese vessels formed a semi-circle and poured in a deadly fire. The steam from the Strashni grew denser, covering her like a white pall. Still she fought like a desperately wounded animal brought to bay. Running straight for the adversary, barring her way to safety, she passed the Japanese astern and fired at them. At this stage Vice-Admiral Makaroff, who had been observing the progress of the conflict through a telescope, signaled to the cruiser Bayan, lying in the inner harbor, to weigh anchor and go out to the rescue. The Japanese destroyers clung to their victim like hounds in a chase. They had become separated, but again resumed their formation. Small jets of flame and smoke were spurting from the light rapid-firers, varied by denser clouds, as torpedoes were discharged against the Strashni. It was the end. The stricken boat loosed a final round, but it was as if a volley had been fired over her own grave, for she disappeared beneath the waves, only a little cloud of steam marking the place where she went down. By this time the entire Russian squadron was in the outer harbor. Besides the Petropavlovsk, I saw the battleships Peresviet, Poltava, Pobieda and Sevastopol, the cruisers Novik, Diana and Askold, and the torpedoboats. The flags announcing the Admiral's approbation of the Bayan were hauled down and replaced by another signal. Immediately the torpedoboats dashed ahead, and the heavier ships began to spread out. Seeing the flight of the Japanese cruisers, the Petropavlovsk opened fire with her great guns, but the enemy was out of range and soon disappeared. Our squadron continued the chase, finally fading from view. I waited anxiously for its reappearance, and in about an hour it came in sight. Far beyond it, the number of points from which smoke arose, announced the presence of the enemy. Nearer and nearer came the vessels, and at last I made out behind our squadron a fleet of fourteen, of which six were battleships and the remainder armored and unarmored Unable to get within effective range of ViceAdmiral Makaroff's ships, the enemy stopped eighteen versts from shore. cruisers. Our squadron, with the Petropavlovsk leading, arrived at the entrance to the harbor and drew up in line of battle. Another signal was floated from the flagship and the torpedoboats at once proceeded through the entrance into the inner harbor. Vice-Admiral Makaroff was evidently unwilling to risk his vulnerable craft to the heavy projectiles of the enemy's armored ships. I watched the Petropavlovsk closely as she steamed toward Electric Cliff; the frowning marine monster, whose guns were ever turning toward the enemy, was prepared to send huge messengers of death against him. All was quiet. It was the hush before a battle-the hush when every nerve is strained to get into impending danger. I looked for the Japanese ships, but they were without movement, save that caused by the heaving sea. My glance returned to our squadron. The Petropavlovsk was almost without headway, when suddenly I saw her tremble. She seemed to rise out of the water, a tremendous explosion rent the air, then a second and then a third. Fragments flew in all directions, and wreckage and men were mixed up in a terrible mass. I was hardly able to realize the horror of it when the ship began to list. In a moment the sea seemed to open and the waters rushed over her. The Petropavlovsk had disappeared. Floating woodwork and the few men struggling in the water were all that was left to recall the splendid fighting machine which a few hours before had sailed out of the harbor. The same shock experienced by the observers on Golden Hill paralyzed for a moment the men on the ships, but when it passed torpedoboats and small boats hastened to the rescue of the survivors. Eager to ascertain what had occurred on board the sunken ship, I hastened to a landing where a small remnant of the gallant crew were being put ashore and conveyed to a hospital. Signalman Pochkoff, who was slightly wounded, was able to give me a remarkably clear statement of the disaster. said: He "We were returning to the harbor, the Petropavlovsk leading. Some of our cruisers which had remained in the harbor came out and steamed toward the enemy, firing sixteen shots at him with their bow guns. They then retired. The enemy numbered fourteen heavy ships, nearly all armored, while ours were nine. Against their armored cruisers we had only the Bayan. I stood in the wheel-house on the bridge of the Petropavlovsk looking up the signal book. The admiral's last signal had been for the torpedoboats to enter the harbor. "The Petropavlovsk slowed speed and almost stood still. Suddenly the ship shook violently. I heard a fearful explosion, immediately followed by another, and then another. They seemed to me to be directly under the bridge. I rushed to the door of the wheel-house, where I met an officer, probably a helmsman. I could pass him, and I sprang to the window and jumped out. The ship was listing, and I feard that every moment she would turn over. On the bridge I saw an |