Chapter Forty-One: Returning Home in Triumph

A few days later, rumors began to spread. The Imperial Navy’s “Emperor Wilhelm” and the newly constructed “Crown Prince Wilhelm” had already left Wilhelmshaven and were heading at full speed to the Far East. In addition, the Russian Tsar had also ordered the mobilization of troops in the Far East, and the army was preparing for war. Although France’s military presence in the Far East was not strong, it remained highly proactive, with a fleet heading north to join the German Second Empire’s Far East fleet.

On May 10th, Hirobumi Ito convened a secret meeting.

Faced with the joint intervention of Russia, France, and Germany, Ito was almost at a loss. Although Japan had just secured a victory, its military strength was still weak compared to the great powers. If war did break out, Japan would be lucky not to be invaded, let alone gain any advantage.

Naturally, there were still those who refused to accept this.

After Feng Chengqian proposed that Japan return the Liaodong Peninsula, Weihaiwei, and Taiwan, some admirals in the Japanese Navy advocated for a preemptive strike against the German Second Empire’s Far East fleet, to nip the threat in the bud and strip Germany of its ability to interfere in Far Eastern affairs.

However, Hirobumi Ito was highly rational, as was Admiral Ito Sukeyuki, commander of the Combined Fleet.

Japan’s victory at the Battle of the Yellow Sea had been pure luck; if the Beiyang Fleet had been more competent, the outcome would have been entirely different. Germany’s Far East Fleet was no Beiyang Fleet, and even a single capital ship could pose a grave threat. With rumors spreading, especially news that the German Grand Fleet was en route, Admiral Ito had no confidence at all.

One must remember, compared to “Emperor Wilhelm” and “Crown Prince Wilhelm,” all Japanese warships appeared obsolete.

According to Admiral Ito’s estimate, these two exceptionally fast capital ships alone could wipe out the Combined Fleet, without giving the Japanese so much as a chance to fight back.

The consideration extended beyond Germany, to Russia and France as well.

Even if France’s influence could be disregarded, Russia could not be underestimated. Not only did Russia possess a powerful Pacific fleet, it also had hundreds of thousands of troops in the Far East. Russia was the true threat, and stood to gain the most.

In this scenario, any real conflict would be decided on land.

Put simply, even if the Combined Fleet defeated Germany’s Far East fleet and crushed Russia’s Pacific fleet, Japan could not secure final victory, for Russia’s powerful army could easily overpower the Japanese army and drive them from the Asian continent.

According to Admiral Ito’s judgment, if war broke out, Japan couldn’t even hold Korea.

The secret meeting lasted several hours. After securing the support of most cabinet members, Hirobumi Ito made his final decision.

On May 12th, Hirobumi Ito formally notified the plenipotentiaries of Russia, France, and Germany, expressing willingness to return the Liaodong Peninsula, Taiwan, and Weihaiwei, but requested seventy million taels of silver as ransom from the Qing, rather than the fifty million proposed by Feng Chengqian on behalf of Germany.

In fact, Feng Chengqian had not expected Japan to settle for only fifty million.

After urgent consultations with the Russian and French envoys, Feng Chengqian accepted Ito’s terms, proposing instead that the ransom be repaid through the lease of the Liaodong Peninsula, Taiwan, and the Shandong Peninsula to the three powers, rather than direct payment by the Qing. The term was to be twenty years.

With Japan persuaded, the rest was straightforward.

Entrusted by Russia and France, Feng Chengqian, as the joint representative of the three powers, went to Beijing on May 15th and formally proposed to Li Hongzhang the lease of the Liaodong Peninsula, Shandong Peninsula, and Taiwan.

Would Li Hongzhang object?

The answer was obvious: no.

Though Li Hongzhang was somewhat reluctant, feeling that leasing to Russia, France, and Germany was no different from ceding to Japan, Feng Chengqian made it clear that, nominally, the land would still belong to the Qing, preserving face. Moreover, if the Qing refused, the three powers would simply send troops to occupy the territories.

Clearly, the initiative was out of Li Hongzhang’s hands.

On May 25th, after ten days of negotiations, Li Hongzhang signed the “Secret Treaty of Beijing” with Feng Chengqian and the plenipotentiaries of Russia and France, stipulating that the Liaodong Peninsula be leased to Russia, the Shandong Peninsula to the German Second Empire, and Taiwan to France. The lease payments from these powers would, over twenty years, be paid to Japan, and the three countries would enjoy administrative and diplomatic privileges in the leased territories.

Feng Chengqian knew that from this moment, the history he was familiar with had changed.

Without Taiwan, would Japan still become the Japan of later years? With early control of the Shandong Peninsula, the German Second Empire’s power in the Far East would be greatly enhanced.

One thing was certain: Japan and Russia were now mortal enemies.

Though Feng Chengqian acted with more initiative and was the main negotiator in the later stages, it was Russia who first took action and mobilized the powers, and Russia who gained the most. After all, Japan had never intended to seize the Shandong Peninsula, so the Qing leasing it to Germany cost Japan nothing. As for Taiwan, it was still a backward region, far less important than the Liaodong Peninsula.

It could be predicted that after receiving three hundred and seventy million taels of silver in indemnities, Japan would certainly regard Russia as its primary enemy.

Thus, Feng Chengqian’s Far Eastern mission reached a conclusion.

Before returning home to report, Feng Chengqian telegraphed the Kaiser, requesting the appointment of Baron Richthofen as Minister for Far Eastern Affairs, granting him full authority over the region, and recommending Rear Admiral Tirpitz remain commander of the Far East Fleet, responsible for exploration in the Far East and Western Pacific.

With the appointment confirmed, Feng Chengqian boarded a steamer back to the Empire.

What he did not expect was that the Kaiser had held open the post of Minister of Naval War for him, appointing only a deputy during his Far Eastern assignment.

On July 15, 1895, Feng Chengqian returned to Berlin and resumed his post as Minister of Naval War.

Though the war between the Qing and Japan was fought thousands of miles away, its impact was felt across Europe, especially the lessons of the Battle of the Yellow Sea.

Shortly after his return, Feng Chengqian received news that Fisher had been promoted within the Royal Navy.

Many found this surprising, since Fisher was not yet fifty-five, and in the star-studded Royal Navy he hardly stood out. Appointing him as First Sea Lord was considered premature. Yet Feng Chengqian was not surprised; the Battle of the Yellow Sea had already validated Fisher’s theory: that speed advantages in capital ships conferred the initiative in naval battles, allowing them easily to outmaneuver slower opponents.

Was it really so?

Feng Chengqian had a deeper understanding. Speed was important, but not all-important; only well-balanced warships could truly gain the upper hand in battle.

The most direct evidence was that, although the Japanese Combined Fleet enjoyed every advantage, it failed to sink any of the Beiyang Fleet’s capital ships, and instead suffered heavy damage to several of its own. Had the Beiyang Fleet been more capable and used its ammunition wisely, it was not impossible the Japanese might have been defeated.

Under Fisher’s insistence, the Royal Navy began constructing fast battleships.

Feng Chengqian did not follow suit, for he knew that these so-called “fast battleships” would soon be obsolete, and the German Empire had no need to waste money on them.

At year’s end, Feng Chengqian submitted a revised shipbuilding plan to the Kaiser.

In his first five-year plan for the Empire’s navy, three ships were already under construction, with two more scheduled for 1896 and 1897. Although both ships’ designs had already begun, with the one codenamed “f” (the 1896 ship) already complete and awaiting government funding, Feng Chengqian decided to start over, cancelling the 1896 capital ship and scheduling both ships for 1897, making them of the same class and design.

Neither the Kaiser nor Bismarck objected.

By this time, Feng Chengqian was no longer without influence. After his Far Eastern mission, his status in the Empire had soared. Not only did he have the Kaiser’s trust, but even Bismarck deferred to him. This was unsurprising—after all, the German Empire had spent decades in the Far East with little result, unable even to lease tiny Kinmen Island at first, yet Feng Chengqian had secured the Shandong Peninsula in just over a year.

More importantly, the Empire’s capitalists now favored Feng Chengqian.

Through arms trade with the Qing and expanding influence in Shandong, German capitalists had reaped enormous profits in the Far East.

Grateful for his achievements, upon Feng Chengqian’s return to Berlin, he was invited to banquets almost daily.

With power comes a stronger voice.

Not only could he alter the building schedule for two warships, even if he proposed expanding the fleet, neither the Kaiser nor Bismarck would object.

Of course, Feng Chengqian remained rational, not rushing into a shipbuilding race with Britain.

His guiding principle was always quality over quantity. Furthermore, the Empire’s industrial base was not yet strong enough, nor its science as advanced as the established powers; it needed time to accumulate strength. There was no need for a huge fleet—better to improve performance step by step, and only build in quantity once technology and industry had matured.

Still, building only one ship per class was somewhat wasteful.

Moreover, Feng Chengqian had to consider that, as shipbuilding capacity grew, constructing only one capital ship per year would lead to idle shipyards that would eventually close down. Thus, moderate expansion of the building program was necessary.

The problem was that a massive battleship program would inevitably alarm Britain, souring Anglo-German relations.

With these issues in mind, Feng Chengqian began drafting the Navy’s second five-year plan. Besides increasing capital ship production by fifty percent, he focused on auxiliary vessels, such as cruisers, destroyers, and the newly emerged submarines.