Season 13, Episode 12: The First Sino-Japanese War

The Meiji government did not consider war with China to be a small, inconsequential matter. While the Japanese Imperial Army had developed into a capable, modern fighting force, it had yet to be tested against a power which could be considered an equal. The 1870s witnessed some of their first engagements, especially the invasion of Taiwan and the Satsuma Rebellion, but in both cases the Japanese army was able to rely on overwhelming force against opponents using outdated weapons or suffering from tremendous supply shortages.

The justifications for seizing control of the Korean government and using war to make that control permanent were varied among the Meiji leaders. Fear of encroachment by Russia was a factor, as the Russian Empire had already been expressing an interest in using Korea’s access to the warmer waters of the pacific ocean. Russia’s southernmost pacific port was Vladivostok, which was perfectly serviceable as a pacific port during the warm summer months but its tendency to freeze solid throughout winter greatly limited Russia’s future potential mobilization. If Russia chose to engage in a war against China and won, they might become Korea’s new overlord.

Top brass of Japan’s army and navy surmised, rightfully, that to win a war against China required establishing naval superiority in both the Sea of Japan and the Yellow Sea. A few episodes ago, we discussed the fact that China had just rolled out the Beiyang Fleet -- a state of the art group of large battleships featuring the finest German engineering of the day. The Meiji leaders were certainly concerned about how their much smaller ships would fare in battle against the larger vessels and the naval leaders in particular set about finding and implementing a strategy which could lead their forces to victory.

Although the Japanese fleet had been organized along somewhat similar lines to the British Royal Navy, they looked instead to the French for inspiration. In particular, they studied a strategy which the French had spent the better part of the 1800s developing - a strategy named Jeune Ecole, meaning “Young School.” The central tenet of Jeune Ecole was that larger battleships could be defeated by deploying large numbers of smaller, faster, more agile vessels.

On paper, the Japanese leaders certainly believed that they had a more-than-decent chance at triumphing in a war against China. However, one never really knows the outcome of a war until after it has been fought. In late July of 1894, shortly after seizing control of the Joseon government, the imperial army initiated the first battle of what would later be called “The First Sino-Japanese War.”

In the early morning hours of July 25, 1894, a transport vessel containing Chinese troops approached the port of Asan, along with an escort of two cruisers and a large gunboat. When they neared Pungdo Island, which lies at the mouth of the large Asan Bay, the fleet was intercepted by three Japanese cruisers. For a few minutes the fleets tensely observed one another. One of the Japanese ships then opened fire on the large gunboat and shortly afterward the other two Japanese vessels followed suit.

The initial strike of Japanese artillery against one of the Chinese cruisers, named the Jiyuan, was fairly devastating. Although the vessel was not yet in danger of sinking, its conning tower had been destroyed, its steering apparatus was damaged, and many of its own guns so badly damaged that they were unable to return fire. Fires also broke out throughout the ship, rendering the vessel unable to support its fellow escorts.

The initial Japanese volley also struck the Jiyuan’s fellow armored cruiser, a torpedo boat named the Kwang-yi. This vessel was much more severely damaged by enemy artillery, including one hit which struck below the water line and another which destroyed their boiler room. The ship beached under the captain’s orders and the crew abandoned ship as soon as they landed, all while enduring a persistent artillery barrage from the Japanese.

As all of this was unfolding, the transport ship, called the Kowshing, came into view along with the Tsao-kiang, a large gunboat. However, upon spotting its own smoking ships and the three intact Japanese cruisers approaching, the Tsao-kiang changed course and fled to Weihaiwei, a port on the northeastern coast of China from where they had just embarked. The Kowshing, however, continued on course to Asan.

While the Japanese ships attempted to pursue the Tsao-kiang, the Jiyuan’s crew effected enough repairs on the ship to make it mobile. They attempted to flee in the midst of the battle and although they were pursued and fired upon by one of the Japanese cruisers, the ship managed to make port at Weihaiwei along with the Tsao-kiang. This left only the Kowshing, a large transport vessel.

There were some diplomatic complications in the events that followed. The Kowshing was not a Chinese vessel but sailed under a British flag. It had been contracted by the Qing dynasty to transport troops but the ship’s officers were Europeans. The Japanese ordered the Kowshing to follow them and the captain submitted a formal protest, since they were under a British flag, but nonetheless agreed. The Chinese soldiers on the boat, however, demanded that the captain turn the ship around and head back to Weihaiwei. The captain and his officers spent hours trying to convince the soldiers on board that surrender was the only reasonable course of action, but to no avail. At some point the Chinese officers became distracted - allegedly when a Japanese cruiser fired a torpedo that struck the hull but failed to explode - and the European officers took the opportunity to abandon ship, jumping into the ocean and swimming for their lives as the Chinese soldiers shot at them from the deck of the ship.

The Japanese ships responded by firing upon the Kowshing, which was soon set ablaze and began to sink. Most on board were soon swimming for their lives and those who managed to get aboard the lifeboats were fired upon by the Japanese. The battle of Pungdo, as it was later dubbed, was a complete success for the imperial navy. Only one of their three vessels took any damage, and it was minor and mostly cosmetic. The losses for the Chinese were massive - an armored cruiser completely destroyed, another badly damaged, and nearly every soldier aboard the Kowshing drowned or killed. All told, casualties on the Chinese side were a little over a thousand killed or wounded while on the Japanese side there were only a few minor injuries.

The loss of the Kowshing was nearly a diplomatic disaster for the Japanese. The ship was, after all, sailing under a British flag and they had utterly destroyed it. However, a British court later ruled that the destruction of the Kowshing and even firing upon the lifeboats full of Chinese soldiers was permissible for one very significant reason: the Chinese soldiers, by threatening the British officers manning the Kowshing, were engaging in mutiny.

The Chinese government was furious over the incident, but had little time to craft a response before it was followed up by another battle. Now that the Chinese soldiers stationed in Asan could no longer count on reinforcements by sea, the Japanese army in Hanseong marched against them under orders to expel the Qing army by force.

The Chinese forces dug in at Seonghwan, which is ten miles northeast of Asan. There were around 3,800 defenders in this engagement while the Japanese army that attacked was numbered around 4,000. However, the Imperial army had one considerable advantage: four artillery pieces. The defenders had none.

In the dark morning hours a few days after the naval engagement at Pungdo, the Japanese army attacked the defenders at Seonghwan with a diversionary vanguard. As the shooting commenced, the artillery and cavalry divisions crossed the nearby Ansong River and managed to outflank the Chinese defenders. The defense quickly crumbled and the defenders attempted to withdraw and hold the line at Asan but were overwhelmed very soon afterward as the Japanese attacked. Some Chinese soldiers managed to flee and made their way to Pyeongyang to the north, but many surrendered and were taken prisoner. 500 Chinese soldiers were killed or wounded, but the Japanese suffered only 34 killed and 54 wounded.

On August 1, 1894, just a few days after the Battle of Seonghwan, both China and Japan exchanged mutual official declarations of war. That’s right, the first two battles of the First Sino-Japanese war happened without any official declaration. Said declarations starkly contrasted one another in ways that are worth briefly exploring.

The Japanese declaration was, naturally, attributed to Emperor Meiji and included his affixed signature. It featured rather lofty sentiments aimed at the international community, citing philosophical doctrines like the “Law of Nations,” and citing the fact that Korea was first connected to the international community with Japan’s so-called “guidance” -- a reference to the kingdom’s opening to trade. The document unironically declared that Korea was an independent state and that its government had repeatedly sought Japan’s aid in reforming and modernizing, and accused China of undue interference. The recent Battle of Pungdo was cited as evidence of China’s warlike intentions, specifically their decision to transport reinforcements to their army in Asan.

 In radical contrast to Japan’s rather lofty, statesmanlike approach to declaring war, the Qing Dynasty’s declaration was imperious, melodramatic, and resurrected an ancient slur against the Japanese. The document began by proclaiming Korea’s status as a tributary and noted that the last two decades on the peninsula had been tumultuous and difficult. Any troops they sent to Joseon were intended as aid, not as a means of bullying their precious tributary friend. They accused the Japanese of bullying the Korean government and cited the sinking of the transport ship Kowshing as a just cause for seeking war against their island neighbor. Throughout the somewhat-pompous document, the word used to refer to Japanese people is Wojen, a pejorative term which means “dwarf barbarians.”

The dispositions of the two peninsular forces in the immediate wake of the mutual declarations of war were not entirely unequal. The Japanese held the capital of Hanseong, with King Gojong and his wife Queen Min in their custody, but a Chinese army 13,000 strong firmly held the city of Pyeongyang to the north, a fortified metropolis which had served as the capital of dynasties past and also occasionally as a backup capital in times of emergencies. In addition to the troops themselves, they controlled a significant amount of field artillery which, in addition to the considerable natural defenses of the city, could make an assault very difficult on would-be attackers.

The objective for the Chinese was to hold Pyeongyang until reinforcements could arrive overland from the north. The army holding Pyeongyang, and working like crazy to build extra redoubts and other fortifications as the First Sino-Japanese War progressed, was the Huai Army which was one of China’s most modernized forces. They were trained with rifles and field guns and exercised western-style military drill and discipline.

Because their gambit in facing off against Chinese reinforcements at the Battle of Pungdo was successful, the Japanese military began large-scale transport operations, swelling the troop numbers of the Japanese Imperial Army on the Korean Peninsula.

In mid-September, with the entirety of Korea’s south under their firm control, the Japanese Imperial army began their march on Pyeongyang, a coordinated advance that involved several divisions approaching the Chinese headquarters from four different directions and, if everything went to plan, arriving at roughly the same time. Things did indeed go to plan and a total of 23,800 Imperial troops converged upon Pyeongyang in the dark morning hours of September 15.

The attackers had a significant numerical advantage as well as an advantage of mobile artillery. The massive defense works of Pyeongyang unfortunately meant that the city’s defenders were stretched somewhat thin, especially now that the city was surrounded on four sides with four potential vectors of imminent attack. The Imperial army was cunning and, it should be noted, exceedingly well-coordinated. While oftentimes well-laid battle plans do not survive contact with the enemy, in this particular instance it is hard to imagine a scenario which results in a more favorable outcome for the Japanese army.

The force to Pyeongyang’s south launched an assault, which the defenders rushed to push back. However, this was a decoy meant to draw the defenders’ attention away from the north. Focusing their main attack on the northern part of the city was a smart move: the north was less defensible and was easily taken. From their newly-seized fortifications in the north, the Japanese deployed artillery which launched shells over the city walls with ease. By the evening of the 15th, the commander of the Chinese forces had offered surrender. The Japanese troops agreed to wait until morning to actually seize the city and the bulk of the surviving Chinese forces fled under the cover of night. Snipers in the Imperial army killed many during this flight, but by morning Pyeongyang was deserted and the Japanese army took up occupation. Two thousand Chinese soldiers had been killed and seven hundred taken prisoner.

After the Battle of Pyeongyang, The remaining Chinese soldiers evacuated the Korean peninsula by striking north hard and fast. They joined with comrades occupying fortifications north of the Yalu River, the geographic boundary which separates Manchuria from the Korean peninsula. In addition to the significant Chinese army presence on the Manchuria side of the river, the formidable Chinese Beiyang fleet was guarding the northern stretch of the Yellow Sea nearby. The outcome of their confrontation with the Beiyang fleet would determine the course of the rest of the war.

On the 17 of September, the day after the fall of Pyeongyang, an Imperial fleet of twelve ships arrived in the northern Yellow Sea and engaged the Beiyang fleet. You may recall we discussed the Beiyang fleet in passing in episode 10. Composed of thirteen vessels  - three battleships, eight cruisers of various subtypes, a gunboat, and two torpedo boats -  the Beiyang fleet represented the very best of China’s naval modernization. However, while the ships themselves were top-of-the-line military craft, their crews and commanders left much to be desired. In naval engagements, discipline aboard ship is usually of paramount importance but those crewing the Beiyang fleet appear to have had little training and just as little respect for the chain of command.

Another factor which would come into play during the coming battle was the proper use of various shipbound weapons. The many guns on the large battleships had extremely limited arcs of fire, their short barrels meant that the payloads themselves did not achieve high enough velocity to ensure hull penetration, and to top it all off, the pitiful level of discipline throughout the fleet meant that the ships themselves had been poorly maintained during their time at sea. The advantages which the Chinese were believed to have possessed before the coming “Battle of Yalu River” were purely on paper; the grim realities of naval warfare were about to become readily apparent to the unprepared Beiyang fleet.

The opening phases of this battle featured a series of communication errors on the part of the Chinese. The flagship ordered the rest of the fleet into a defensive formation to meet the impending Japanese attack. However, those interpreting the signal commands apparently confused them because the ships instead formed up in a wedge formation, which really only makes sense if they were planning to attack. As the Japanese ships approached, prepared to utilize the jeune ecole tactic of rapid ships overwhelming larger battleships, the Beiyang fleet opened fire too soon, long before the enemy vessels were in range.

The Imperial fleet split into two squadrons, which caused confusion to spread throughout the Chinese fleet as they were uncertain which squadron to concentrate fire upon. The Imperial fleet executed a series of maneuvers which circled round the Chinese fleet, cut through their middle, attacked their flanks, and generally dominated the watery battlefield.

The Chinese ships were not completely idle throughout the engagement and repeatedly scored broadside barrages against their foes. However, by sunset five of the Beiyang Fleet’s cruisers were sunk, over a thousand were killed or wounded, and the badly-damaged surviving vessels fled. Several of the Japanese vessels suffered significant damage, but none had sunk. Japanese casualties were around two hundred wounded and a little less than that killed. The Battle of Yalu River, as it would later be called in spite of the fact that it occurred in the Yellow Sea, ended with a resounding, decisive Japanese victory.

Meanwhile, the Imperial army on the peninsula was preparing to engage with the Chinese army which occupied fortifications north of the Yalu River. Japanese engineers and scouts had busied themselves surveying the river and laying telegraph lines which stretched to Pyeongyang throughout much of September but in late October, the main body of Japanese troops arrived and prepared for a difficult, bloody assault on the Chinese position which would require them to construct a pontoon bridge to cross the river.

Japanese commanders devised a similar strategy to their assault on Pyeongyang. A vanguard would assault the front of the fortifications while a separate division would cross the Yalu farther north and then flank the defenders. However, they soon found that their ruse was unnecessary. The vanguard constructed their pontoon bridge seemingly without the notice of the defenders and when the flanking division assaulted the side of the fortifications, they found only a rearguard force of 500 who put up a lackluster defense before trying to flee. The Chinese army, which numbered around 23,000, had withdrawn.

Now firmly planted in Manchuria, the Imperial army moved to seize Lushunko, an oceanside city which is known in the west as Port Arthur. Residing on the very tip of the Liaodong Peninsula, Lushunko was being utilized as a repair facility for the badly damaged Beiyang fleet, thanks to the fortified city’s drydock facilities. 

Lushunko, and indeed, much of the Liaodong Peninsula, featured heavy fortifications and would prove a difficult target. However, its close proximity to Beijing as well as the fact that it was the only place where large ships like those of the Beiyang fleet could be repaired made it a critical target for the Japanese.

The Imperial army marched onto the Liaodong Peninsula but their progress was hampered by both guerilla-style attacks by local irregulars and also by the onset of winter. The coldest season is especially harsh in the icy climate of Manchuria. The Chinese government, hoping to rally its common citizens to its defense, announced a generous bounty for anyone who killed Japanese soldiers, on a per-soldier basis. Thus many imperial scouts were picked off and their bodies brought to Lushunko for their killers to receive their reward. The defenders of Lushunko decapitated many of the Japanese and stuck their heads on pikes along the road which led to the city, hoping to provoke fear in the invaders.

The navy assisted with transporting ground troops to the area around Lushunko, and soon the Japanese had captured the port town of Dalian which had been completely abandoned. Among the emptied homes and offices, they discovered an intelligence treasure trove - diagrams revealing the locations of minefields around Lushunko and specific information about the city’s defenses. The Beiyang Fleet, still being repaired at the drydock in Lushunko, were ordered to withdraw to Weihaiwei, leaving the city without any naval support in the coming struggle.

On November 20, 1894, the Imperial army began engaging with the outer defenses of Lushunko. The defenders, demoralized by the departure of the fleet and panicking at the approach of the Japanese, began looting the town. As the Imperial army neared, most of the Chinese officers boarded boats and escaped by sea. The remaining defenders were disorganized and terrified, which led to a short and ineffective defense. On November 21, the Imperial army finished taking the city and now enjoyed a fully-supplied port from which they could strike at the heart of China.

However, the end of the battle did not end the bloodshed. According to some accounts, Chinese soldiers dressed in civilian plainclothes and shot at Japanese soldiers from inside houses. The Imperial army took the precaution of entering every home and killing any man they found inside. Once the city was secure, the Japanese soldiers, still outraged at seeing their comrades’ heads displayed on the city’s outskirts, engaged in a massive killing spree across Lushunko.

The full details did not emerge immediately; the foreign reporters attached to the Imperial army waited until they had direct contact with their superiors overseas via telegram to file the full account, fearing censorship from Japanese officials otherwise. The “Massacre of Port Arthur,” as it came to be known in the west, confirmed in the minds of western chauvinists that the Japanese were just another East Asian people group who was, at their core, savage and uncivilized. The massacre’s death toll is highly disputed even today, though it’s generally agreed that it was at least 2,600 within the city limits, though many in the surrounding area may have also been mercilessly slaughtered. The figure may be as high as 60,000, though even the modern Chinese Communist Party fixes the number at 20,000. Whatever the number, it was a horrific war crime against civilian non-combatants which harmed Japan’s contemporary diplomatic goals. The US had been entertaining the idea of replacing their unequal treaty with something more equitable but the Massacre of Port Arthur brought those negotiations to a swift halt.

As 1895 began, the Imperial armed forces moved against their next logical target: the port city of Weihaiwei. Situated on the easternmost point of the Shandong Peninsula almost directly opposite of Liaodong, Weihaiwei harbored the remnant of the Beiyang Fleet, which had managed to recover some of its strength with fresh reinforcements. The battle for Weihaiwei began at Dengzhou, a port city on the Shandong Peninsula’s western tip. The Imperial navy bombarded the town in an attempt to draw the Beiyang fleet toward them while transport boats landed troops in the vicinity of Weihaiwei. This ruse worked, and soon two columns of Japanese soldiers were making their way to the city. Although their progress was slowed by a seasonal blizzard, they were aided by the fact that China was presently celebrating the lunar new year, which meant they encountered no armed resistance on the road to Weihaiwei.

The fighting was fierce as the two columns reached the city on January 29 but after a full day of battle the Chinese troops abandoned the outer fortifications. On the evening of the first of February, the remaining garrison fled from the city and Imperial troops entered without resistance the next morning. Meanwhile, their possession of the landborne artillery gave them a big advantage against the Beiyang Fleet, which was utterly destroyed in a naval engagement soon after with the help of support from Weihaiwei’s own cannons.

It was at this point that the Qing government finally admitted that they were losing this war and decided to try and mitigate the damage. Negotiations soon began but the Imperial army did not halt their ongoing advance. The Japanese army on the Liaodong Peninsula, fresh from their seizure of Lushunko, marched north to the fortified city of Yingkou, where some of the fiercest and most desperate fighting of the war took place.

Yingkou was reinforced by fresh Chinese troops, who took the fight to the enemy and a few times even managed to gain the upper hand. However, some of those assaults proved too costly for the Chinese, and Japanese counterattacks were soon punishing their initiative. Casualties mounted, mostly for the Chinese, and after almost two months of fighting, Yingkou fell to the Imperial army on March 9.

China pressed for a mutual ceasefire and Japan agreed, but only for certain theaters, namely Manchuria and northern China. While negotiations were underway, on March 15 the Imperial army launched an expedition aimed at seizing Taiwan and its outlying islands. Although there was a significant garrison on these islands, the Japanese succeeded in both cutting them off from potential reinforcements and also outmaneuvering them on the battlefield. Cholera spread among the Japanese troops, however, taking the lives of around one thousand five hundred, but nonetheless they maintained their hold on Taiwan and its neighboring islands.

Finally, on April 17, 1895, officials from Japan and China signed the Treaty of Shimonoseki, which included a declaration that Korea was an independent nation, that China would pay a hefty war indemnity to Japan, that several more Chinese ports would be open to Japanese trade and ceded Taiwan and its outlying islands to Japan. The treaty also ceded the Liaodong Peninsula to Japan, a stunning concession that shocked the other world powers.

Thus the First Sino-Japanese war ended with an overwhelming Japanese victory. However, they would soon find that it was one thing to win territory and quite another thing to hold onto it. Next time, we’ll discuss the backlash against the Treaty of Shimonoseki by Qing loyalists in Taiwan, as well as a cadre of western powers who wanted the Liaodong Peninsula for themselves.