[Illustration: A FACSIMILE OF THE AUTHOR’S INSTRUCTIONS.]
A SECRET AGENT IN
PORT ARTHUR
BY
WILLIAM GREENER
LONDON
ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE & CO LTD
16 JAMES STREET, HAYMARKET
1905
PREFATORY NOTE
No one who has seen anything of the fighting between the Russians and
the Japanese needs to make any apology when presenting to the public
a truthful account of any events of which he was an eye-witness. Very
little was actually seen by any newspaper correspondent, and every
history of the war, and even of each campaign, must depend for many
particulars upon official reports, with which the public are familiar.
I do not profess to have attempted to compile anything like a detailed
story of the siege. Instead, I have preferred to give merely my own
experiences in Port Arthur and elsewhere in Manchuria and the Far East;
to describe what I saw, to repeat something of what was told to me, to
say what I thought of such happenings as interested me, and to write of
the people whom I met when in quest of information. Some of the things
I have set down may throw sidelights upon certain phases of the war,
and if what I have written induces readers to think for themselves what
ought to be the policy in the Far East of Great Britain and the United
States, then my object will have been attained.
CONTENTS
I SECRET AGENTS, CORRESPONDENTS AND SPIES 1
II RUSSIA AND MANCHURIA BEFORE THE WAR 18
III LIFE AT PORT ARTHUR 39
IV WAR 58
V HIDING IN PORT ARTHUR 78
VI LAST DAYS IN PORT ARTHUR 114
VII THE DAY’S WORK 136
VIII IN NEUTRAL TERRITORY 158
IX CONSULS, CORRESPONDENTS AND OTHERS 179
X THE BATTLE OF TASHICHIAO 204
XI THE JAPANESE AS CONQUERORS 222
XII CONTRASTS AND COMPARISONS 233
XIII THE ATTACK ON PORT ARTHUR 249
XIV THE DEFENCE OF PORT ARTHUR 268
XV JAPAN’S REQUIREMENTS AND CHINA’S FUTURE 295
ILLUSTRATIONS
Facsimile of Author’s Instructions _frontispiece_
Facsimile of an order in the Chinese
Telegraph Office at Tientsin. _to face_ 190
The Battle of Tashichiao. 207
The Russian Retreat 216
The Fortress of Port Arthur. 269
Addendum
In order to avoid misapprehension the Author wishes to
state with reference to the notice re-produced at page 190
that he is satisfied that the notice was issued without the
knowledge or authority of Reuter’s Agency Limited, or the
Associated Press of America, and that none of the telegrams
were communicated to them.
CHAPTER I
Secret Agents, Correspondents and Spies
Secret agents as practical workers in the field of journalism are
little known to the public. The character and scope of my operations
may be gathered from these pages, but it is not my intention to
disclose here any details of the inner workings of newspaper offices.
Much of the information which reaches the editorial offices of a great
journal is neither published nor intended for publication. A foreign
correspondent may desire the suppression of news he sends, yet require
leading articles and the policy of the paper to be shaped upon a
knowledge such as he possesses of events of no immediate concern to the
public. Special circumstances and extraordinary conditions sometimes
require services which cannot be rendered adequately by resident
foreign contributors, or known special correspondents. In my case the
instructions were simple and definite. I was to journey through Russia,
Siberia and Manchuria; make myself acquainted with certain facts;
obtain what information I could on the subjects specified; communicate
same to my paper in the manner directed; and report myself at Peking
for further instructions at a given date.
War between Russia and Japan was believed to be imminent; much of the
information I sought related more or less closely to military affairs,
but reports on these matters were neither published nor divulged.
The _Times_ office wished to obtain the truth, and to be the best
informed--in that following a policy which has grown into a custom.
The status of the secret agent is that of a special correspondent
travelling incognito. Amongst men of our own race whom I met on
terms of absolute equality the chief were: officers of the British
Intelligence Department; inquiry agents of the State Department,
Washington; reporter-detectives of the U.S. Customs; paid spies of
foreign governments, and tourists. Those of us who had a common object
cultivated most the society of Russian naval and military officers and
their associates; the Custom’s agents sought the shippers of contraband
goods and immigrants intended for the United States, and the tourists
all places of interest. When war began, the Intelligence officers
withdrew to neutral territory; the secret agents and spies became
avowed newspaper correspondents, and the tourists disappeared.
In the earlier stages of the war the distinction between spies and
newspaper correspondents was a fine one. The difference consisted
chiefly in the nature of the employment, but it mattered little to the
power spied upon whether the reporter was paid by a newspaper or by
the enemy. It was important that naval and military movements should
be kept secret, and a plan was marred if a fleet were reported seen by
a press despatch-boat or tramp steamer, or one of the enemy’s scouts.
The presence of all newspaper men, and most civilians, was irksome to
commanders. It is not surprising that newspaper correspondents were
denied the facilities they expected, before an adequate censorship
had been established; for, as a matter of fact they not infrequently
acted as spies without intending to do so. For instance, in June, a
correspondent landed at Port Arthur from a junk; he saw little there,
and was sent back to Chifu at the first opportunity. He stated,
amongst other things, that fresh provisions were not scarce in the
besieged fortress, and immediately afterwards the junk supplies there
appreciably diminished, for the Japanese watched the coast with greater
vigilance.
The spies who acted as newspaper representatives do not call for
special condemnation, since a spy is expected to do whatever will
effect his purpose; and although his presence and behaviour may
hamper the genuine correspondent, it is the newspaper which the spy
pretends to represent that alone has a substantial grievance. Spies and
correspondents are equally eager to obtain every item of information
that has any interest, and in order to succeed one takes the same risks
as often as does the other.
The treatment which would be accorded a spy and a correspondent by
the military authorities would differ, but the difficulty has been to
detect the spy and exculpate the correspondent. By the Russians it was,
at first, deemed most satisfactory to regard both as though all were
spies.
Some weeks after hostilities were commenced the Viceroy’s staff drew up
regulations which were approved at St. Petersburg, and enforced. Their
object was to lessen the number of newspaper representatives with the
Russian army at the theatre of war, and to control them effectually
apart from the restraint exercised by the censorship which was then
established. The conditions imposed cannot be too widely known, as
they show exactly some of the difficulties with which accredited
correspondents had to contend.
Art. IV. Each war correspondent on arrival at the scene of
action must sign a written compact binding himself:
(i.) Not to interfere in any way with preparations for
war, or with the plans of the Staff, nor to divulge
anything which should be kept secret, such as, _the
result of the action of the enemy_, damages done to
fortifications, losses of guns, etc.
(ii.) Not to communicate any information about the enemy,
which, not being proved, nor having any foundation in fact,
could awaken public uneasiness.
(iii.) Not to insert in any correspondence _any criticism
whatever_ concerning the decisions, or acts, of members of
the Staff, but limit reports to facts.
(iv.) To carry out exactly all orders of the higher
military authorities given through the officers appointed
to explain to correspondents, and of those in charge of the
censorship.
Art. V. The violation of any of the above published
regulations, the non-observance or the disregard of the rules
issued by the military authorities, immodesty, (indiscretion)
lack of tact, will entail a caution in minor cases, or
expulsion from the scene of military activity if serious,
providing always that the correspondence or conduct does not of
itself constitute a criminal offence.
Art. VI. Correspondents are bound to fulfil absolutely all the
requirements specified in Arts. IV. and V., with regard to
the acts, movements, and work of the fleet, during which all
correspondents, without exception, are forbidden absolutely
to enter the Admiralty, the docks, workshops, and other
buildings of the Marine Administration, or _be in boats_ in the
harbour, or roads of the ports of Vladivostok and Port Arthur.
Correspondents _must not apply_ to the Admirals in command for
any relaxation of this rule.
Art. VIII.... Each correspondent must be furnished with
written permission to keep horses, vehicles, and servants,
and these also must have a written certificate of identity.
Correspondents are responsible for themselves and also for
their servants.
Art. IX. Correspondents are bound to apply to the Chief of
a detachment for permission to remain with that corps. In
case the chief may find the presence of the correspondent
undesirable for military considerations, the correspondent is
bound to leave without delay.
Art. XI. Correspondents must carry always on their person their
permits and those for their servants.
Art. XII. Correspondents must wear always on the left arm a
broad red band with the letters B.K. in black.
Art. XV. Correspondence is permitted (_a_) in telegram form;
(_b_) as separate articles, with marks and signs as intended
for publication. Cipher messages are prohibited.
Art. XVI. Correspondents must endeavour to supply without delay
to the Viceroy’s Staff two copies of each newspaper in which
their correspondence is printed.
Some correspondents, following the instructions of their papers,
signed the above conditions and more or less conscientiously adhered
to them. Others were unwilling to forgo the privileges of the
ordinary correspondent, and, in preference to being formally attached
to the Russian army, awaited developments and remained within the
Russian lines near the border of the neutral territory, where they
were tolerated. No foreign correspondents were permitted to remain
at Port Arthur. At Newchwang those who made a practice of dodging
the censorship, and in their messages betrayed an unintelligent
anticipation of events, were requested to leave. The newspaper
free-lances for the most part frequented the territory between the
Great Wall and the river Liao, and the treaty ports of Chifu and
Newchwang, where the newspapers and news agencies already had their own
permanent resident representatives.
The free correspondents might telegraph as news accounts of things
seen, reports of things heard, and statements of imagined events. They
were in a better position during the early stages of the war than
the accredited correspondents accepted by either the Russian or the
Japanese authorities, who were restricted to official communications.
Of the actual fighting, most of these saw nothing at all until the
battle of Liaoyang at the end of August; there were only Reuter’s
representative, Lieut.-Col. Norris-Newman of the _Daily Mail_, and
myself at Port Arthur on the occasion of the first bombardment, and
only the _Daily Mail_ representative, Col. Emerson and myself, at the
battle of Tashichiao. Neither Etzel, who was shot, nor Middleton, who
died, ever saw an engagement between the Russians and Japanese, only
guerilla encounters of Russians and Chinese, which were of almost daily
occurrence.
The treatment of the war correspondents by the authorities on both
sides indicates that their presence on the field of battle is not only
undesired but will not be tolerated. The men who wish to study the
human side of the war at first hand, those who wish to witness how the
soldiers advance under fire, carry a position, waver, or retreat, will
have only accidental opportunities, as their views are not wanted by
commanders any more than are the criticisms of independent military
experts present at the engagements. In a word, the occupation of the
war correspondent has gone. The foreign military _attachés_ do not
appear to have been afforded facilities denied to correspondents,
and their accounts also must be based largely upon what they hear,
supported by topographical knowledge gained by subsequent visits to the
lines where the real fighting took place.
An American correspondent on the Japanese side informed me that he
estimated the newspaper representatives there to have cost their papers
in the aggregate over half a million yen, and it is certain that those
on the Russian side cost theirs a quarter of a million roubles, in all
£75,000--an outlay quite disproportionate to the value received.
It must be remembered that the expenses of a correspondent are very
heavy, and that ordinarily he is well remunerated for his services.
Even in the China coast ports, for instance Chifu, where there is
no likelihood of attack and war prices consequently do not rule, the
out of pocket expenses of a news-gatherer exceeded £300 in one month,
and this exclusive of the cost of telegraphing. The remuneration of
a correspondent at the port--not a man sent out specially, but a
merchant’s clerk appointed in lieu of a journalist of experience--is
£50 a month. This may seem high pay, but in North China salaries are at
a higher level than at home and a well educated, competent, trustworthy
man, if a British subject, rarely expects less, for even a soldier
appointed as a railway guard receives from £15 to £18 a month, and has
free quarters at each end of his day’s run and free meals whilst on his
train.
In the war area, at Yingkow for instance, within the Russian
lines, although Newchwang is a treaty port, provisions and all
necessaries were at war prices, owing to the Russians buying all
they could secure for transmission to Liaoyang. The cost of living
was double and treble that current at Tientsin and Chifu, or even
the much nearer Shanhaikwan--all being outside the war area. Some
correspondents--indeed most--received the salaries of correspondents
at the theatre of war, usually upwards of £100 a month, whilst the
representatives of American newspapers, weekly periodicals, and even
monthly magazines, received very much more.
The American newspapers are sending out additional men for the
approaching campaign, but judging from the results already obtained it
would appear at first sight that for the accounts of events the public
must depend upon the official telegrams and the reports given by the
news agencies’ services. This should not be so. I have proved that the
official notifications can be beaten in time to even such near points
as the China Treaty ports, and official messages to America and Europe
require so much longer for transmission that the difference in point of
time would be even more appreciable.
It is pardonable of Admiral Sir J. C. D. Hay to congratulate the
shareholders of Reuter’s Telegram Company on the valuable character of
the company’s news, and to instance what it has achieved, but it must
not be presumed that perfection has yet been reached. Mr. John Cowen,
of the _China Times_, which throughout the war has had the best service
of any paper, remarks that, “Sir John Hay might have added, if he had
prophetic vision, that Reuter’s Agency would first record, as it did
on June 23, the capture of Liaoyang by the Japanese (not taken until
September 3); also that Kaiping has been captured three times by the
Japanese according to the same authority. The fact remains however,
that without such services we should be very badly off.”
The war correspondents who had been through several campaigns,
well-known authorities such as Mr. Bennet Burleigh, Mr. E. F. Knight,
Mr. George Lynch, Mr. Douglas Story and Mr. H. F. Wigham, are to be
counted amongst the smartest and most enterprising Britons it has
ever been my fortune to meet, and their inability to surpass their
former achievements is due entirely to the official restrictions they
had no choice but to accept. Amongst the Americans, Mr. J. Archibald,
Mr. R. H. Little, and Mr. F. Palmer are in the fore front as news
correspondents, and they have the knowledge, the abilities, and the
energy requisite to keep there. Of the other men, it may be said that
most were of more than average ability, though some could not ride,
others not write, and one was unable even to distinguish between the
national flags of France and Russia. They lacked most a competent
knowledge of the technics of their profession. Even those who did
send perfect messages probably had learnt the knack from practical
study of the best cables arriving at their offices, and knew not why
they were cast in a particular form. This was a point on which the
representatives of American newspapers had full knowledge.
If the reader imagines that a correspondent having seen an engagement,
rushes to a telegraph office, scribbles out an account and straightway
hands it in for transmission, he is very much mistaken. The man who
acted in that way would be beaten by the expert every time. Mr. Bennet
Burleigh drafts his messages with the greatest care, and accurate and
precise though he is, he never fails to revise in a quite wholesale
fashion before dispatching what may appear to be only a hurried
account after all. Dr. Morrison writes and rewrites, and revises and
rewrites and weighs the value of every word--the use of the exact word
characterizes his style--then when he is finished the draft is usually
type-written by his secretary. Even then, by the time the Chinese
telegraph operators have completed their work upon it, the message may
be in such a state as to need its reconstruction almost before it is
fit to be forwarded to the next relay station. Hours are often spent by
competent correspondents in drafting even a moderately long telegram,
and the time required to write a serviceable message a column in length
is much more than proportionately greater. The longest message I wired
was immediately after my return from Port Arthur, and it consisted of
only two hundred words--many correspondents rarely send important news
in any telegram of more that half that length.
Possibly one of the most interesting personalities in the journalistic
world of to-day is that of Dr. G. E. Morrison, the _Times_
correspondent at Peking. He is an Australian by birth and education,
a doctor of medicine by profession, an investigator by nature and a
diplomat by predilection. Every one knows that he was born at Geelong
in 1862, that he has walked across Australia and China, practised
medicine in Spain, and is fond of shooting. In appearance he is unlike
the average North China resident, though he is of medium height and
build, is clean shaven and wears his ashen grey hair cropped short.
There is something distinguished about Dr. Morrison, something he
does not derive from his immaculate attire, from the nabob stick with
which he toys as he walks, or from the forward inclination of his
head, characteristic of thinkers. Indeed his manner at first suggests
the pedagogue, but when you see the man you know you have something
more; you have a man who can and does think for himself, a man who can
scheme, and with dogged pertinacity peg away until that upon what he
has set his heart upon having is obtained. He is hard as a Manitoba
winter; a man of resolution and of power, a man devoted to an idea,
or a principle, or a rule of life; a man who will go long lengths to
gain a point, who will find out means with which to accomplish his
self-set task, who will get at the right people and use them; a man who
is unlikely to be generally loved, but may be esteemed, and cannot
but be admired for what he is; a man who may not possess many real
friends, but is certain to have enemies, and himself be an implacable
foe. Though he has a nature which certainly is not running over with
sweetness, there is probably no one in China for whom British residents
there have more genuine respect, or one whom they understand so little.
Dr. Morrison delights to puzzle the ordinary person, so that by some
his commonest talk is regarded as a cryptic utterance, to be treasured
and studied lest its true inner meaning escape observation. He is not
a sinologue and has only a nodding acquaintance with Chinese, but is
better informed than most people, has a trained power of observation
and the gift of insight. Accustomed also to think, and being of a
contemplative temperament, he reads signs which are to others without
significance, so is able to surprise them, and cause them to ask
of each other what it is he means. He is credited with having had
a share in the work of bringing about the Anglo-Japanese alliance,
and throughout the Far East the present hostilities are known as
“Morrison’s War.” He cannot be said to be popular at Peking, and his
visits to the Legations are so quickly followed by matters of moment,
that he is regarded there as a very harbinger of unrest.
Dr. Morrison lives alone in a large, rambling, quaint Chinese house
situated off the great boulevard and about midway between the east wall
of the Forbidden City and the Telegraph Office. As do all the houses
in Peking, his home faces south, and occupies the greater portion of a
small and cheerless compound. There is a little room at the extremity
of the west wing which serves as a study. In the main building there
is a dining-room hung with Chinese built-up pictures, and crowded with
curios and black-wood furniture. The larger part of the ground floor
is devoted to his library, which is one of the finest collections of
books on China in private hands. There are books on shelves, books
in cases, books covered up, and books loose; there are rows and rows
of books, and book tables and indexes and library fittings without
end. Never until amongst them did I realize how cold, cheerless, and
uninviting too many books render a dwelling house, how completely they
destroy its homeliness. A near neighbour of Dr. Morrison, who is also a
literary man living in a Chinese house, has improvised from even less
promising media originally, a home suggesting cosiness, luxury, and
real loveliness. The difference is that he has books everywhere in his
home, whilst the other cannot find his home for the books. But books
are to Dr. Morrison merely tools; he is not inordinately proud of his
library; still less does he love it; but is full of regard for it as
the means to an end.
Dr. Morrison speaks rapidly, using short words and somewhat long
sentences, and there is an evenness in the tone of his voice which
betrays that sentiment is lacking in his temperament. His address is
somewhat stiff, but his phrases are never without point, and have the
saving grace of being pertinent. I met him one day unexpectedly as he
stepped from the train at Yingkow, and this was his salutation: “Hallo,
Greener, what are these Cossacks doing here? How many are there of
them? How’re you?”
People think that Dr. Morrison takes himself too seriously, and is too
devoted to his work--it is that for which he lives--but none doubt his
sincerity, and all admire his patriotism, which is deep, genuine, and
predominant. The one trait in his character which makes him close kin
with all is his sincere and undisguised liking for young children.
The infants of his serving-men run loose about his rooms and are sure
that he will pet them. Occasionally he will treat himself to real
entertainment. He gives a children’s party, to which all are welcome.
The courtyard is roofed over with sun-mats; there are flowers and
sweets, music and games, jugglers, conjurers, tumblers and tricksters,
and not one of the merry party enjoys the romp more than does the
staid journalist who thus momentarily forgets his cares, his Chinese
pictures, his curios, and even himself--a mandarin entitled to have
twelve bearers for his chair and several clangs on the gong at the
entrance gate.