mile and a half to pull before we came abreast of the conflict. With its deepening thunders bellowing in our deafened ears, we landed where the ground was high, and ascending the most elevated point we could perceive, had, with the aid of powerful glasses, a good view of the scene. Terrific indeed it was—a wide, dense pall of smoke, which there was little wind to carry off; through the haze the huge reeling shapes of the fighting vessels, looming indistinctly, vomiting flame like so many angry dragons, and several of them burning in addition, having been set on fire by shells; and above all the appalling concussion of the great guns, like the bursting of incessant thunder-bolts.

By this time it was half-past two p.m., and the battle had been in progress nearly three hours. Not having seen the commencement of the affair, we were for some time unable to make head or tail of it. The ships were mixed up and scattered, and we could perceive little sign of plan or combination on either side. The first thing that began to make itself evident as we watched was that the struggle was nearing the coast. At first the nearest ships had been fully a league and a half seaward; before we had occupied our position three-quarters of an hour, many were well within two miles of the coast. So evident was this that Chubb remarked that half of them would be ashore before the fighting was over. This of course enabled us to distinguish the vessels better, and we began to make out evident signs that John Chinaman was getting much the worst of it. The Japanese vessels, working in concert and keeping together, as we began to perceive, seemed to sail round and round the enemy, pouring on them an incessant cannonade, and excelling them in rapidity of fire and manoeuvring. Some of the Chinese vessels appeared to me to present an appearance of helplessness, and there was no indication of combination as amongst their opponents. Not but what they blazed away valiantly enough, and some of them had evidently given as good as they got, for more than one Japanese vessel was in flames. Of course we could not identify these ships, but we could make out that in numbers and armament they were a fair match for the Chinese squadron. They appeared to pay special attention to the two great Chinese ironclads, the Chen-Yuen and Ting-Yuen, one of which at least had had her big guns, 37-ton Krupps, silenced, though still contributing to the entertainment with the quick-firing armament. Shortly after three, the King-Yuen, fired by shells, began to burn fiercely; she showed through the smoke like a mass of flame, and was evidently sinking, settling down on an even keel. Three or four of the enemy circled round, plying her with shot and shell. Finally, with a plunge she disappeared, and the immediate darkening, as the smoke-clouds rolled in where the fierce blaze of the burning wreck had been, was like the sudden drawing of a veil over the spot where hundreds of men had met their simultaneous doom. The cannonade slackened, but soon broke out again fiercely as ever. About this time it seemed as if the Japanese flagship, Matshushima, was about to share the same fate. She looked all in a blaze forward. The fire, however, was got under, and later on she was taken out of the action.

Meanwhile the Chinese ships had been forced still nearer to the land, and the Chao-Yung, an absolute ruin, drifted helplessly ashore, half a league from where we stood. By the aid of our glasses we could perceive her condition clearly—her upper works knocked to pieces; her decks, strewn with mutilated bodies, an indiscriminate mass of wreck and carnage. Her crew were abandoning her, struggling to land as best they could. Subsequently the Yang-Wei went ashore similarly battered to pieces and burning. She was much further off, and we made her out less distinctly. On the Japanese side not one ship had sunk as far as we had seen, and though the flagship and some of the smaller craft were in an unenviable state, the attack was kept up with immense spirit, and prompt obedience was paid to signals, which were frequent, whereas we looked in vain for any sign of leadership on the part of the Celestials. Later in the action another of their best ships, the Chih-Yuen, came to grief. She had evidently been for long in difficulties, labouring heavily, with the steam-pumps constantly in requisition, as we could tell by the streams of water poured from her sides. Bravely she fought on unsupported, and her upper deck and top guns were served until she sank. At length her bows were completely engulfed; the stern rose high out of water, disclosing the whirling propellers, and bit by bit she disappeared. We could hear distinctly the yelling sounds of triumph that rose from the Japanese ships as she went down. The Chen-Yuen and Ting-Yuen, which seemed to fight together during the action, tried when too late to assist her.

At five o'clock, as darkness came on, the firing rapidly decreased, and the opposing squadrons began to separate. Some of the Chinese vessels were out of sight in the gloom to the southward, and the Japanese slowly drew off seaward. We thought it now high time to regain the Columbia, and took to our boat, discussing the fight and speculating on the probable renewal of it. We felt little surprise that the Chinese should have had the worst of it, for we had had good reason to suspect that their fleet had greatly fallen off from the state of unquestionable efficiency to which English tuition had brought it. Whilst ashore in Talienwan I had a conversation with Mr. Purvis, an English engineer on board the Chih-Yuen. I asked him what he thought would be the result of an encounter with an equal Japanese force. He said the Chinese would have a good chance if well handled, expressing on that head distinct doubts.

"They are very brave," said he—and I can answer for it that there was no perceptible flinching on their part during the action—"and I believe Ting to be a good man, but he is under the thumb of Von Hannecken"—meaning Captain or Major Von Hannecken, a German army officer, one of the foreign volunteers in the fleet. The significance of the remark is apparent when we consider the statements made to the effect that it was he who was really in command on the day of the engagement, Admiral Ting deferring to his suggestions. I am in no position to affirm whether this is really the truth or not, but if it be indeed the fact, it cannot be held to be astonishing that disaster should have overtaken a fleet manoeuvred by a soldier! I recollect that Mr. Purvis also informed me that the boilers of two or three of the vessels (instancing the destroyed Chao-Yung) were worn-out and unfit for service. Laxity of discipline, too, seems to have resulted in disobedience or disregard of orders. As an instance of this, it is alleged that instructions telegraphed from the conning-tower of the flagship were varied or suppressed by the officer at the telegraph, and that a subsequent comparison of notes with the engineer afforded proof of this.

I was forcibly struck by the comparatively unimportant part played in this action by that "dark horse" of modern naval warfare, the dreaded and much-discussed torpedo. Both squadrons had several torpedo-boats present, though, as I have shown, those on the Chinese side did not enter the action until it had been proceeding more than an hour. The Japanese allege that they did not use the torpedo at all during the action, and however this may be, there is nothing to show that the weapon made on either side a single effective hit. I drew the impression from what I saw, that it would be apt to be ineffectual as used by one