Hiding in Port Arthur
The morning after the first bombardment was a rough snowstorm and
blizzard. It was impossible in the forenoon to distinguish any living
form across a narrow street, and useless to attempt to inspect the
harbour. The wind blew in from the sea, and when the storm had
moderated a little and the snow fell thickly in large flakes it was
ideal weather for a torpedo attack. Relying upon fictitious advice
Japanese friends had given me that their forces would follow up every
attack with another quickly, and take Port Arthur--town, forts and
harbour--within a fortnight, I wandered round the shore looking eagerly
for, and expecting momentarily, the torpedo attack which was never
attempted. It was during these hours of watching that I met the British
officer--also peering seaward for some sign of an invading squadron.
On a subsequent occasion, when we also met by accident, being on
the same quest, we went together round the town and as far as
possible made the circle of the inner line of fortifications. In this
peregrination I asked him to choose for me the safest quarter in which
to reside during future bombardments, and he pointed out a somewhat
thickly populated district immediately behind the town gravel pits, to
the north of the Bund. Later I secured a room in a Chinese house in
that vicinity. It opened on to the Poyarova, and had on the opposite
side an exit still nearer the shelter of the quarry. About the same
time also, I was offered the use of rooms in the flat of a foreigner,
who had left them in order to be nearer his work.
The torpedo attack and the subsequent bombardment had astonished the
Russians; the only word which expresses adequately the condition of the
authorities is “flabbergasted,” for they were rendered defenceless by
their unlimited bewilderment. A few well-armed, daring troops landed
immediately after the torpedo attack, or simultaneously, would have
captured the town, the staff and the heads of the naval and military
departments, and might have carried at least one of the forts. At any
time within the first week the Russians would have been surprised
by an attack, and probably would have succumbed to a vigorous and
well-organized offensive movement. At every hour we two were expecting
to hear the rattle of rifle fire from the direction of Pigeon Bay, and
as the days went by could scarcely credit that no invasion had even
been attempted.
At first everything in Port Arthur was in hopeless confusion. The
defence of the place had to be organized, and even a special staff got
together for the direction of the general plan. The naval and military
authorities did not work together harmoniously, and General Stoessel,
who in a sense was outside both factions, did not succeed in getting
the unlimited authority the duties of his position necessitated until
after the Viceroy had departed north accompanied by the staff. The town
was in a state of chaotic confusion. All the Chinese servants left; the
Chinese tradesmen and coolies tried to leave. The trains were closed to
them, but the ships in the harbour gave them room and were overcrowded.
Sampan men asked and obtained from five to fifteen dollars for ferrying
a passenger from the wharf to the ship--a service for which as many
cents was ample reward ordinarily. The public carriage drivers were
equally extortionate, and demanded fifteen dollars for a journey
between the old and the new town; the jinricksha men disappeared,
their vehicles too, and the melting snow and deep mud made the roads
impassable.
Leading merchants and the heads of firms had sudden important business
calls to visit Newchang or Harbin, and _they_ secured places on the
trains which left more or less regularly every day. The retailers
thought the present the best opportunity to make a fortune by realizing
their stock at famine prices. On some goods the retail prices were
doubled in a day, and quadrupled within a week.
Having trusted to Chinese workmen for their preparation, at once
provisions ran short when their services could not be obtained. There
were no bakers and no butchers at work, until the masters organized
fresh staffs from among the troops. Within the first week I had to
buy half a loaf at the Saratoff restaurant in order to have bread for
breakfast the next day. Two days afterwards I had purchased the whole
stock of plain biscuits the storekeepers possessed. There was plenty of
water in the wells, but no coolies to carry it; the public baths were
closed because there were no Chinese to keep the fires going; coals
were cheap enough at the compounds but, again, no means of getting
them home. All the horses and carts which had not been requisitioned
by the authorities were earning double their cost each day in taking
the more valuable household effects of residents to the wharf, the
station, or by road to Dalny. There were no boys to wait on one, or to
do housework; cooks were at a premium; restaurant waiters and carriage
drivers were in the army reserve, and doing their turns of sentry go.
The sanitary corps broke down completely. Laundries ceased to exist.
Never in so short a time did the social organization of a civilized
community go so completely to pieces. To make matters worse, there
was a dearth of ready money. The Russo-Chinese bank, the only bank
permitted in the town, had been damaged during the bombardment, and was
removed to fresh premises in the New Town. When finally it was duly
installed there and opened its doors for business, it would receive
money only, and pay none away! It was long weeks before it again got
into proper working order; when that was accomplished most of the staff
were transferred north to Newchang, Mukden and Harbin, and disorder was
again manifest.
The confusion and disorder in the town were not worse than the
derangement of routine and subversion of order in the official
departments. When the Post Office reopened, one could scarcely get
within its doors so great was the crush. Inside there was little chance
of getting even a stamp delivered to one, or to get a letter accepted
for registration.
The guns in the forts were fired in desultory fashion night and day at
almost every object seen moving on the water. It was unsafe to take
a boat in the harbour, for there rifle fire at people in sampans and
ship’s gigs was both frequent and disastrous.
Of all the departments those connected with the administration of the
affairs of the commercial port were undoubtedly in the most hopeless
state of muddle and remained so. In the private houses everything was
topsy-turvy owing to all of the assistants being absent from duty. In
the official departments the confusion was often due to there being
too many engaged in each division, as every department worked its full
staff overtime or obtained additional hands. The departments were on a
war footing. There were many zealous persons without sufficient duties
assigned to them to keep them fully employed who interfered in matters
outside their own business, and there were some who insisted upon doing
other people’s work and only attempting to do their own.
All matters connected with mercantile shipping were now helplessly
mixed. After the torpedo attack no vessels were allowed to move in
the harbour, but the _Columbia_ escaped from the quarantine station
and sailed away unnoticed and unchallenged. We were informed that she
was sunk at sea by the enemy--quite untruly. The _Foxton Hall_ was
abandoned within the inner harbour and allowed to drift; the _Wenchow_
was detained once because she had Japanese on board, next because she
had no Japanese on board; the _Pleiades_, with many thousand sacks of
flour for a consignee who had run away, was allowed to sail, conveying
from the port provisions all needed.
One knew not what to do. The first vessel given full permission to
leave port, papers granted after the bombardment and after official
inspection and all other formalities and requirements had been complied
with absolutely, was fired upon by the guardship as soon as the captain
attempted to obey the Port Admiral’s commands. The shells from the
guardship killed two of the Chinese passengers, a girl had both legs
blown off by the shot, and several Chinese were wounded severely.
All these vessels were British-owned steamers sailing under the
protection of the British flag. The _Fuping_ was fired upon in broad
daylight, when she was within the harbour, and had her flag and
signals flying. The firing was just as much a mistake or an outrage
as was the unprovoked attack upon the Dogger Bank fishermen by
Admiral Rojdestvensky’s fleet nine months later. It was unnecessary,
unwarrantable, and only explicable by assuming that each bungler
holding office disregarded every authority but himself, and acted as he
thought best for the defence of the port according to his own lights
and on his own responsibility.
The British officer was highly indignant at the incident, and wished
me to make the most of what had happened, informing me that he was
forwarding a strongly worded report of the proceeding to his chief for
transmission to the Foreign Office. I was astonished subsequently that
so little importance was attached to the affair at home, and I am of
the opinion that if the incident had been handled diplomatically by our
Government, the _Knight Commander_ and the _Hipsang_ would not have
been sunk, our Indian mail would not have been tampered with between
Brindisi and Port Said, the North Sea trawlers would not have been
molested, and the British flag would be regarded by Russia with the
same respect that it used to receive from people of other nationality.
The guardship _Razboinik_--“razboinik = robber, highwayman, cut-throat,
moss-trooper, scourer, ruffian, bandit, brigand.--_Alexandrov_”--was
commanded at Port Arthur by Prince Lieven, an experienced officer,
whose culpability for the affair must not be assumed, as I was not
able to ascertain for certain whether or not he was on board his ship
at the time of the attack upon the _Fuping_. Prince Lieven was a
well-known figure in society, and typical of a small but worthy section
of the Russian navy. A Baltic Russian by race, he had little of the
impetuosity of the Slav and much of German staidness; his brain was
contemplative rather than initiatory. He was a devout Lutheran, and
scrupulously conscientious, able to give a reason for every act he
committed, even though that reason would not suffice to convince any
one but himself of its absolute righteousness. He was sober, frugal,
and plodding The gallant captain had fascinating manners, and though
a ladies’ man was essentially of the domestic type, but his life was
far from being devoid of romance, as every one in Port Arthur knew. For
some reason or other the Prince was chary always of being left alone,
and was nervous when in the presence of strangers. It was rumoured that
he was one of the “watched,” that he feared he was being followed by
some one who had determined to take his life. This feeling is of course
too common among a certain class of officials in Russia to be mistaken
for hallucination, as there is often good grounds for the assumption
that they have bitter enemies. In this case the haunting was due to
an old romance. The Prince has been twice married--and one of his
admirers, a sprightly, dashing, intelligent woman--whom I saw sometimes
when I was wandering through the almost deserted town--follows him
everywhere. Subsequently I saw her in different treaty ports, which she
left for Japan, hoping from thence to reach Port Arthur at its fall.
When Prince Lieven escaped on the _Diana_, she sailed for Saigon, where
the crew is interned. Upon this man many important duties devolved--for
some of which possibly he had no time.
Another trouble arose through the ships in harbour being unable to get
supplies of water, and for days the unfortunate passengers had neither
water nor food--but the position of the civilians in town was not much
better.
Of all the Government departments, the best managed during this trying
period was the railway. The staff was less affected by the war than
were some others. Trains ran regularly, and for one day only was
communication with Russia interrupted. Many trains were requisitioned
for military use, nevertheless some passengers were forwarded each day,
and General Stoessel ordered the people to be patient in attempting
to get away, as 20,000 seats were wanted, but the station-master had
only one train with which to meet the demand. On the military side the
railway was used to the full extent and much was accomplished. Troops
were sent to guard inland positions, stores were brought in, heavy guns
were sent to the outlying fortifications, and everything was worked
without any show of haste.
The outgoing passenger trains were at first crowded to their fullest
carrying capacity, and people even stood outside the cars on the
platforms between them. Only first and second class tickets were
issued, and the greater part of the accommodation was third class. No
Chinese were conveyed by train at all.
Port Arthur recovered from the first shock of war in a comparatively
short time. The restoration of calm was due chiefly to non-molestation
on the part of the enemy. Sixteen days elapsed after the first
bombardment before another serious attack was attempted. In the
meanwhile the defence had been organized; a more careful watch was
kept seaward; the batteries were fully manned, big guns were got into
position, the damaged cruisers were docked and repaired, and the fleet
utilized to some extent in supporting the fire from the forts. And the
morale of the citizens improved; the bombardment had injured but a few
personally, the damage to property was not so very serious, and people
found courage, being more confident of immunity from immediate danger.
In the town there was an amelioration of the conditions which ensued
when the Chinese servants absconded. For one thing, just as the
Port Arthur Chinese made haste to reach Dalny, the Dalny Chinese
simultaneously sought safety at Port Arthur. Servants were less scarce,
and the Russian soldiers were engaged upon all kinds of necessary work,
both in houses, and at the docks and on the wharves.
The extent to which the Russian soldiers invaded every domestic domain
with their useful services was astonishing. It was excellent training,
too, for the long siege which followed, as when there was really little
at stake, beyond the sanitary conditions, if the ordinary work were
not done for a time, they filled the places formerly occupied by the
Chinese and so made the defending force absolutely independent of the
assistance to which the coolie immigrant had accustomed the town.
One snowy morning I turned into a short street formerly occupied almost
exclusively by Japanese barbers. Their shops were closed, but I saw
that one of the Russian houses was open. I entered, and found the place
empty. The soldier who had been patrolling the now unfrequented street
followed me into the shop. I explained to him that I had only intended
to get a shave. “Si-chas,” he answered quickly, putting his rifle,
with bayonet still fixed, in a corner. Then he unwound the bashlik
from about his head, took off his great-coat and cap, hung them up,
and--shaved me. When he had finished, pocketed the half rouble, and put
away the tackle, he again donned his uniform, shouldered his rifle,
followed me into the street and resumed his turn of sentry go, until
the next customer should appear.
An advance was made in restoring public confidence with the return
of business men to the direction of their affairs in the port. There
were sinister rumours respecting some of them. It was said that the
authorities, during their absence, had whilst guarding their offices
discovered evidence of the payment of secret commissions to Government
officials, and one statement affirmed that a “monthly pension list”
of premiums regularly paid by one firm to certain naval officers had
been seized and delivered to the Viceroy. No credence was attached to
these stories, for it was incredible, not that payments were made, but
that the businesslike people who paid them kept any written record of
their secret transactions. Another side really merits publicity. From
my own knowledge I can write of the great generosity of the head of
the firm of Ginsburg & Co., a firm of whom I never asked or received
any favour. Mr. Moses Ginsburg was willing and seemed able to help
any one in need. Those who wished to leave Port Arthur and had not
the means to do so went to him for assistance, and he advanced money
without security to all sorts and conditions of people. He took over
and paid cash for stores he did not need, in order that foreigners and
others might close out of business quickly and without loss. He was
a good man of affairs who had made a fortune by commerce, and might
easily have made another in this time of stress, but he was not sordid
by nature and his conduct was exemplary. It contrasted favourably with
that of some men in responsible positions, whose every care was for
themselves. They sacrificed the goods of their firms in order to obtain
ready money, went away with all they could obtain, and left their
clerks and menials without friends or goods to shift for themselves as
well as they could. Nor must it be supposed that the men who acted so
meanly were invariably Russians. Some foreigners are not wholly free
from blame in this particular, though others behaved as became men when
heavily embarrassed with difficulties not of their own creation.
The first brunt of war brought out character. On the whole the Russians
stood the test well: stood to their duties manfully and without
complaining, seemingly inured to hard fortune, and capable of winning
through the troubles with which they were beset. And there is much
that is good in the Slav character, and best is their ever-ready and
eager response to the goodness inherent in human nature, a trait so
marked that if only the Tsar, or his advisers, knew how to appeal to
the people every true Slav would rally to the call. At Port Arthur the
common people, when they realized the position, knew the need there was
for their services, almost without exception accepted the inevitable
with excellent grace and rendered what aid they could. Port Arthur
would beat off the enemy; until victory was really theirs they must
make the best of what fortune had in store for them. The proprietor of
the Saratoff restaurant, a rough fellow with many faults, in harmony
with the spirit of the day advanced his prices--for one day only. On
reflection he went back to his old prices, did his utmost to cater
successfully for his customers, and when you asked for something not
on the bill of fare and he was able to serve it, his gratification was
pleasing to witness. It said, as plainly as if spoken, “Maskee the
enemy, I give you what you want.” It manifested the spirit of defiance,
was earnest money of the victory that was to come.
One of the first important orders given by the Viceroy fixed the prices
of the necessaries of life in the town. The rise in prices had not
been justified by what had happened, there was in truth but a slight
change in the exact value as the result of the war, and the retailers
who thought to benefit by making exorbitant charges were checked at
the very outset. The legitimate prices of bread, flour, rice, salt,
tea and such commodities were but slightly in excess of those current
in January, and any one could go into the market, or any shop in which
such provisions were on sale, and insist upon having a quantity at the
price scheduled.
The Commandant, General Stoessel, was very busy interesting himself
not only in strengthening the defences but in the welfare of the
inhabitants. He issued orders almost every day: their general purport
may be judged from the following specimens, all promulgated on February
3 o.s. (16th).
GENERAL STOESSEL’S COMMANDS
ORDER No. 61
RECENTLY I saw on the pavement two or three men, and trotting,
notwithstanding that this is forbidden, as every soldier knows.
Therefore, on and after the 5th inst., everyone so offending
will have the horses transferred and himself be subjected to a
fine.
ORDER No. 62
THIS DAY I saw in the street two or three drunken men, and all
of them our people. _Notice_ is therefore given that from the
6th inst. every drunken person found on the street will be
arrested and taken to the lock-up, and set to hard labour on
the fortress. It is impossible for anything to be done now with
drunkenness allowed.
ORDER No. 63
THE STAFF COMMANDER will institute performances of high-class
MUSIC on the Boulevards from 3 until 5 p.m. twice a week.
H.E. The Viceroy, Admiral Alexeiev, was not so much in evidence;
occasionally he drove through the town, and with him always were many
of his staff. His notices were of the usual Court order; official
acknowledgments of congratulatory telegrams, and notifications of the
receipt of Imperial commands. The Tsar’s manifesto was not published
until Valentine day.
The Commandant knew how to revive the patriotism of the
inhabitants. His appeal for volunteers to the militia was answered
immediately--nearly every one capable of bearing arms was enrolled.
Later, when the investment was complete, and full military duty was
required, the service became irksome. As one of them told me, fourteen
days in the trenches, alternating with ten days off in which to attend
to private business was unbearable, as the military service unfitted
him for any rôle but that of patient in a hospital. So he left Port
Arthur, as did many others.
It must be borne in mind that for five days after the first attack
the inhabitants were without news of any sort from the outside world.
On Saturday evening the _Novy Krai_ published a bulletin containing
the Tsar’s manifesto, and an account of the torpedo attack and first
bombardment. After that date bulletins were issued regularly for
some weeks, but the news allowed to become public did not truthfully
represent the progress of the war.
There were many optimistic rumours current, in addition to the fanciful
statements respecting Japanese losses published in the bulletin. For
days every one believed that as the result of the Russian cannonade on
the first day six Japanese vessels were damaged; that three Japanese
warships were ashore at Chifu, and one officer informed me in good
faith that although in all twelve Russian ships were lost or damaged,
at that date sixteen Japanese war vessels had been put out of action by
the Russian fire. Again, although on February 11 the _Enisee_ had been
lost at Dalny, I was informed four days after by an officer who had
just arrived from Dalny, that he had seen her the day before, that no
accident had happened, and that the story of her loss was an infamous
concoction.
The Russian loss of life at Port Arthur was invariably understated.
Every one could see the lines of stretcher bearers conveying the
wounded, knew of the funerals of twenty corpses at a time in trenches,
could follow to the graves the remains of officers killed in action,
yet the published totals of the dead, wounded and missing numbered less
than the bodies interred that same day. Possibly this manipulation
of figures helped to allay public uneasiness, and the town certainly
recovered its accustomed gaiety very quickly. The places of public
amusement attempted to reopen, but it was merely the last flicker of
the burnt-out candle. With a town in total darkness after nightfall,
and a rapidly decreasing attendance, paying performances even at small
music-halls became impossible, and the artistes left the town.
The circus horses were requisitioned by the authorities; the circus
became a Red Cross emergency hospital; some of the minor performers and
the attendants became drivers of public carriages, their horses being
those rejected from military service on veterinary examination. As long
as they could run, or haul any sort of load, they were worth more
to their owners than those accepted, for these were all taken at one
price, an order for 125 roubles, a sum any horse in private hands could
earn in a few days.
An Englishman, very fond of riding, managed to retain a saddle horse
long after all others had been taken, by the simple method of riding
about on it all day, and housing it in a different stable every night.
Another foreigner secured a donkey and cart, which earned him a
livelihood for weeks. The donkey was seized in the stable, but three
men could neither coax nor coerce that donkey into making a journey to
the examination depôt, so they themselves decided that such a beast was
of no value to the military authorities.
The destitute Chinese gave considerable trouble to the possessors of
stores lying on the wharves.
One afternoon, just as it was growing dusk, on a day when there had
been some firing from the forts, a loud report was heard near Signal
Hill. At once people rushed that way, and the attention of all the
watchmen was directed to the same quarter. It was merely a preconcerted
signal. From every nook and corner, as though by magic, a crowd of
coolies appeared, and proceeding to a stack of flour on the Bund they
took off the mats, and with their accustomed ejaculations started to
carry away the whole parcel just as if they had been ordered to remove
the flour to one of the go-downs up town. The ruse succeeded for a
short time, when the bold theft was discovered, the gang dropped the
flour and ran. Some of the bags were recovered half a mile from the
Bund, and some were never seen more.
But the Chinese were not the only people ready to loot. Some of the
deserted Japanese shops contained goods of considerable value. Of
these the police took charge, and they employed soldiers to pack and
convey them to a place of safety. More than one attempt was made by
well-to-do foreigners to secure an object of art at first cost, and I
have a recollection of a smart young American careering fearfully along
a street with soldiers in close pursuit. Some valuable effects were
also left behind by rich Chinese merchants who abandoned their homes.
The foreigners mostly shipped their valuables to one of the China
treaty ports, or deposited them at the Russo-Chinese bank, where they
doubtless remain.
It is common knowledge that throughout the East the Chinaman is treated
by Europeans everywhere as an inferior. Possibly the Russians do not
offend more grossly than others, but to those who are not Russians
their cruelties seem more barbarous. Port Arthur was not an exception
to the rule. The lower classes, the coolies, were regarded as slaves.
Once, a Russian, who habitually treated the jinricksha men with
unusual harshness and occasional ferocity, was taken by men he had
abused to a deserted part of the town, and there fearfully and cruelly
mutilated. The perpetrators of this outrage were never discovered. The
authorities were so enraged at being baulked in their attempt to find
the criminals that they sentenced _all_ the ’ricksha men in the port
to a long term of imprisonment, but in order to avoid inconvenience to
the public, the men were divided into two lots, each of which went to
prison alternate weeks.
A few days after the bombardment most of the respectable Chinese had
left the port; there remained many improvident coolies and some Chinese
of the worst type. There is no doubt that they broke the laws and
offended in many ways, but I doubt if they committed any crime which
justified the severity with which they were treated. Persons merely
suspected of wrongdoing were most brutally handled by the military
police. I have seen men cruelly kicked because they could not lift
heavy loads no man could carry; I have seen them beaten and mauled
for no other offence, that I could discover, than that they were
Chinamen. I have seen ears torn, and queues lugged until the scalp
has been ripped--preliminary punishment by the street police when
conveying unresisting coolies to prison, there to answer a charge.
And these assaults were common, in even the leading and most thronged
thoroughfares of the town, and were so usual as rarely to collect a
crowd or call for remark from an officer or any other disinterested
person.
One heard of Japanese spies being captured, but I never saw one taken.
In fact, I saw but few Japanese in the town, except refugees in charge
of a guard, but there was one at least who remained long and escaped
without detection. There was also a Japanese _amah_ at large about the
town for weeks; she wore Russian clothes of loud colour, and rather
unusual fashion, but herself seemed not to attract attention; when last
I spoke to her she said she was in the service of a Russian officer’s
wife.
As a check upon the admittance or sojourn of undesirable persons the
passport system is useless, even in a fortress town such as Port
Arthur, where the regulations are strictly enforced. Otherwise I had
been discovered and notified to leave the town forthwith. Simply
by living quietly and unostentatiously, moving hither and thither
unobtrusively, and keeping quiet, I was allowed every liberty within
the town limits. It was impossible to photograph; the mere possession
of a camera, if known, would have led to inquiry and arrest--and
Russian officers even were arrested for being found with a camera in
hand in the street. It was not easy to use binoculars, for no sooner
were they levelled at a ship in the harbour, than some sentry would
inquire of you what it was attracted your attention.
Nor was it so difficult to get news--of an unimportant kind--or
to get that news away. Several ships left for Chifu; the German
cruiser _Hansa_ called to take away German subjects, and women of all
nationalities, who wished to leave; one passenger train left almost
every day, and was never without passengers--or letters and dispatches.
At the very outset I was informed curtly by the telegraph clerk that
the cable to Chifu was cut--a statement I had then no reason to doubt.
A week or so later, messages for Russia were accepted by the railway
company, and for Manchuria at the town office, but neither was of use
to me.
Much of the ordinary life of the town continued as usual. The war
seemed to make little difference immediately. Even at the time of the
first bombardment there was a wedding at the cathedral; a Russian
wedding is a tedious ceremony, and this one lasted longer than the
bombardment. The same night the bridegroom left with his regiment for
the Yalu. That indicates how little change war made with regard to some
matters, and how greatly altered other relations were by the state
of war. As long as I kept to the streets and open ground I could go
anywhere; at any and every hour of the day and night I have walked
between the old and the new towns. I never approached so near to any
of the forts as to be challenged by the sentries, but in the daytime
I walked into and through the Admiralty dockyard, inspected the ships
undergoing repairs, and even saw into the workshops. On the last
occasion I was stopped at the gates as I left the Admiralty enclosure,
but a word satisfied the officer, and, of course, the sentry, that I
had been on permissible business. I said that I would return later,
but found it inadvisable to keep the promise. Without going into the
yard at all one could see which ships were in dock, what progress was
being made with the repairs, and which ships were lying in the basin
waiting to be docked, for the hill near the Viceroy’s house commands
an uninterrupted view. If one did not recognize the ship, or could
not read her name, one had only to ask either the naval sentry, or
some passing sailor, to be told, and given full particulars. Such
information had no news interest, and I certainly was not sufficiently
concerned to pass it out for the enlightenment of the enemy. There were
things which, as long as I was in Port Arthur, I liked to know.
Once only was I accosted by a soldier. It was in the very early hours
of the morning, the night dark and cloudy with some snow falling. I had
passed the railway when a Cossack, leading his pony, came to me to ask
if I knew where the telegraph office was. He had been looking for the
steps up the cliff for more than an hour without success. And this was
the Cossack! The scout of scouts, the man who could go direct to any
spot at any time--and I, a foreigner and a stranger, had to conduct him
to the town telegraph office!
It was open for any one to see the troops who left the fortress, to
note the regiment, number of companies, and the physique of the men; it
was as easy to go to the railway station and check the number of trains
arriving and departing, to find the military trains and ascertain
what they brought and what they took away. There was no secret made
of anything. Then one could go to the drill ground and see the troops
being exercised, and the recruits put through barrack-yard evolutions
and parade-ground displays. The march past in review order, wheeling in
line, forming into columns, and the simplest manœuvres seemed to be the
usual order of the day. Woe to the man who failed to keep his dressing,
who advanced too rapidly, or fell behind. A running kick from the
drill sergeant was the first notification he had of his error. As in
every drill yard of Russia in time of peace the troops rehearsed their
cheers. At Port Arthur, and elsewhere in Manchuria, there as in Russia,
the cheer was the performance of an order, done as mechanically and
precisely as the movement of shouldering arms, or turning right about;
and it was always given in the same tone of voice, jerked out in sharp,
staccato fashion, a succession of disconnected syllables; not, “Long
live the Tsar! Horray!” but: “Da--zdrav--stouett--nash--obo--jamie
--goc--u--dap--im--per--at--or--ura!”
During the whole of my stay at Port Arthur I heard but one genuine,
spontaneous cheer in connexion with the war. It was on the first day
when the little cruiser _Novik_ returned from being under fire from
the enemy. The crowd of Government employees on the Admiralty quay to
greet the vessel, cheered lustily and long. The _Askold_ also received
an ovation, and so did some of the torpedo-boat destroyers. Captain
Essen, of the _Novik_, was one of the most dashing officers of the
Russian navy, and was repeatedly mentioned in dispatches. Another
fighting commander was Zalyesski of the _Askold_, and Lieutenant
Kouzmin-Korovaiev, of the _Serditi_, both of whom distinguished
themselves on the occasion.
The small cruisers and boats of the torpedo flotilla were soon
repaired, but large ships like the _Pallada_ had long to wait, and the
injuries to the battleships were very severe.
The _Retvizan_, torpedoed, had a hole on the port side over forty
feet in length, and twenty in depth. Seven compartments were full of
water, and as she lay beached the tide rose and fell in her holds. The
bodies of a number of drowned sailors were in the filled compartments,
and not recovered until after many days. The Russian engineers put a
patch of wood over the hole, covered it with tarpaulins, and started
to pump out the ship. When the depth of water inside had been reduced
several feet, the pressure outside was so great that the patch burst
in, and the ship filled again. The services of a Scotch engineer were
then requisitioned. He found the appliances at Port Arthur primitive
in design and wanting in quantity. The port was even short of hose.
The authorities also opposed the suggestions he made for salving the
ship. He wanted to make a hole in the side of the vessel above the
water line, so that instead of having to pump up the water thirty
feet, five would suffice. This proposal was negatived, as was also one
for removing the turret guns, the anchors, cables, and other heavy
gear forward in order to lighten the ship. Ultimately some of his
suggestions were tried, and the ship was refloated.
The _Tesarevich_ had been torpedoed on the starboard quarter, had lost
the propeller and boss, and though not sunk was kept afloat only by
constant pumping. There was no dock at Port Arthur large enough to
take the big warship, and but for the advice of a Hollander she could
not have been repaired at all. He suggested that a deep hole should
be excavated on a mud bank in the harbour, the vessel backed into
the hole, then mud walls built up amidships, and the water from the
excavated hole pumped out, thus leaving that half of the vessel which
needed repairs in a dock of mud, and the fore part in the shallow water
of the harbour. This plan was tried with success. A new propeller was
sent by railway from St. Petersburg and the vessel repaired, seaworthy,
and in good fighting trim eventually escaped to Kiaochow, where the
German authorities detained her until the war should end.
So far the war had proved several things; one was that a modern
battleship is practically indestructible both by torpedoes and shell
fire unless sunk in deep water. The tremendous poundings some of the
ships received caused damage which made the vessel resemble a wreck,
but in a few days, or weeks at most, the ship would be out of dock,
spick and span, in fine fighting trim, and to all appearances equal to
new. Even the _Retvizan_, lying beached and waterlogged, used her guns
with effect at that time, and was ultimately patched up and made as fit
as any ship of the fleet.
Some experts contended that with the fleet Port Arthur would prove
invulnerable. The ships were to manœuvre outside where protected
by the guns of the forts, and snatch advantages from the attacking
fleet of the enemy. As it turned out the naval guns of the Japanese
were better than the fortress guns of the Russians, and were used to
better purpose. From the first the fleet, instead of being an aid to
the defence of the fortress, was an immovable incubus, an inert dead
weight, a crushing load which the forts had to protect always.
If Russia had possessed a fighting navy in the Far East, the plan of
campaign might have been different, or, if the same, the results might
have been otherwise than they are. But a fighting navy Russia does not
possess. I have already expressed the surprise I experienced when this
was told to me; that surprise was equalled by the proof I subsequently
received of its accuracy. I have overheard Russian naval officers state
that they did not intend to fight, that they could not take this risk,
or that, or some other. It has been on other occasions a subject of
conversation amongst officers when I, a foreigner, was present; and I
have even been told by certain officers that, at least, so far as they
themselves were concerned, dying or being wounded in the defence of
their country was just the last thing they intended to risk.
These men had a different conception of their duties, their calling,
and their status to that possessed by officers of our navy. In fact,
some seemed to think it was wrong that their navy should ever have been
called upon to fight, that fighting was a purpose for which it was
never founded, and that, like a British gunboat, it was intended for
diplomatic uses only. I do not assert that the officers who thought
and spoke and acted in this way were a majority of the Russian navy,
or even that they were fairly representative of the whole service;
but I do believe they were as numerous as were the men who were keen
for fighting, who were ready for battle, and wished to be engaged in
struggling against the enemy’s fleet. The bulk of the sea-forces, so
far as the officers are concerned, were more or less indifferent,
inclining to prefer peace, and always to avoid personal risks.
The men, like the soldiers of the Russian armies, are just simple
fellows, doing their duty in war and peace because they are ordered to
do certain things. The engineers and the gunners both were, I think,
more inclined to shirk the risks, and to find excuses for absence on
particular occasions, than anxious to distinguish themselves by gallant
conduct in battle. Such men do not merit praise, but they must not be
condemned too hastily, nor are they necessarily cowards.
Men who have risked their lives in battle, men who have been actually
under fire, are affected by the circumstance in different ways.
When the excitement of the fight is over, I think there are few who
are really anxious for a renewal of the risks for the sake of the
excitement, but they may be willing to engage again as bravely as
before for other reasons--patriotism, for instance. If there is a
certainty, or even probability, of those same or like risks being run
again, or many times, then, in the intervals of repose, men see other
things and other circumstances than the war and their own immediate
surroundings out of proper focus. Self-preservation being the highest
law, secondary laws, including all moral obligations, suffer a seeming
decrease in value. The man whose life has been and at any moment may
again be risked in battle, is not likely to consider that he owes the
ten shillings in his pocket to some person far away, and that he ought
to remit, but his one idea is the value of that ten shillings to him
just then, where he is. What pleasure will it obtain for him at the
moment, seeing that sooner than he can realize its value he may be
dead? Quickly recurring risks of sudden death cause a deterioration of
what may be called the moral fibre of the individual, and at the same
time produce a marked hardening of character. The man whose life is
in jeopardy, or soon may be, wants to find a way out into safety. He
whose whole being is in danger of immediate extinction is unlikely to
have any particular care for his reputation. Life is worth more than
reputation; the latter may be retrieved if the former is saved, and at
the moment life seems better worth saving than honour.
Another feature is the growth of recklessness due to the greatness
or number of the risks run. The man who has faced bullets with grim
determination not to waver, will skate over the thinnest ice with a
glad smile on his face. The greater excludes the less. The respectable
man who has been forced to commit a murder for which he will be hanged,
is not going to be deterred from assaulting a policeman through fear of
incurring seven days’ imprisonment.
Now the individual units which constitute the Russian navy are not
drawn chiefly from a true fighting race. In the aggregate _esprit de
corps_ means to them something else than it does to the members of a
fighting regiment, and is concerned chiefly with matters of etiquette
and other little things. Then they are not imbued with the traditions
of a glorious past, as are, say, men of the British navy. There is not
much reputation to lose, and the glory of achievement they have never
experienced. Worse than all, the Japanese delivered the first blow,
a heavy blow, one that damaged and for a time paralyzed the navy--it
showed that fortune was with them. From the very first the Russians
were disheartened--too badly beaten to retrieve their position.
In the circumstances it is not surprising that some of them--from one
or other of the causes already explained--in order to find distraction,
turned to such allurements as Port Arthur possessed. There were
carousals, wild parties intent on devilment; there was shirking of
duty, courting of pleasure; there was dissipation, debauchery, and
degrading licentiousness, a disregard of warnings, of orders, and of
restraint. Some places of amusement were closed; those which remained
open were thronged with boisterous, distraught, and reckless men of
every rank, and although naval officers were the worst offenders, they
had as company their equals from other services. Port Arthur after the
commencement of hostilities was in these particulars far worse than
the somewhat gay but always enjoyable town in the days of peace. As
time wore on the men of the services became more and more suspicious of
civilians, particularly of foreigners, and most of all of British and
Americans. One of the foreign firms, intent upon possessing a competent
stevedore, had engaged a British master mariner in that capacity. He
attended to his duties assiduously, was so successful, so resourceful,
and moreover so quiet and entirely wrapped up in the heavy work upon
which he was engaged, that they became sure he was a spy. For so good
a man to be a simple stevedore was incredible; his like should be of
admiral’s rank at least. So he had to go.
Their dislike sometimes took an offensive direction. A quiet young
American, a clerk in the employ of one of the firms, was struck by
a naval officer in the Saratoff restaurant for no other reason than
that he was an American. There was no apology asked, nor was one ever
tendered. That man also had to go.
A chinovnik, one of my best-informed newsmongers, told me that the
officers of high rank were no longer sure of the superiority of
Russia’s power. They thought Russia might be beaten on land as well
as at sea, even that she might lose Port Arthur. Later this change of
opinion permeated through the lower ranks of officers, and to the men.
The commandant had to issue an order that workmen and others must not
be allowed to leave the town without written authority. My informant
thought it best to go.
Some of the foreign firms closed out rapidly; their clerks were ordered
to go. One of them, a Russian subject, of the type that assumes to
know everything, made up his mind to stay on in the town. In order
to obtain the necessary permission he interviewed General Stoessel,
proffering him a plan for strengthening the fortifications of the
fortress. General Stoessel thought him a most dangerous man to have in
the town. Forthwith he had to go.
It became increasingly difficult to obtain trustworthy information
concerning anything of importance, and not easy to meet one’s
informants, as though by accident, at the time when they had
information, and were willing to communicate it. The results of the
desultory firing day by day were not distinguishable, and the _Novy
Krai_ became a newsless sheet.
Between the naval and military authorities the dissensions long
existing, and bitter even before the war, suddenly became acute.
Differences were discussed openly, the army and navy were at variance,
and the diplomatic body seemed unable to make peace between them.
Matters were not much improved when it was known that the Viceroy
would leave Port Arthur, placing Admiral Stark in full command, and
take the diplomatic corps and executive of the Administration to new
headquarters at Mukden.
General Stoessel was to be in chief command of the land defences;
General Smirnov to be his assistant, and in full charge of the
southernmost forts, both east and west. From the beginning the two
did not work well together, and as the enemy gained advantage after
advantage by their attacks on the land side, whilst General Smirnov’s
forts escaped serious injury from different bombardments by the enemy’s
fleet, this lack of harmony changed into discord, and later developed
into something of the nature of mutual antagonism. General Stoessel
strengthened the outer line of fortifications by every means devisible.
Land mines innumerable were sunk below the soil of all the slopes; the
workshops were working night and day preparing fougades from lengths
of any iron tubing procurable, wire entanglements were erected, German
firms and others having foreseen the possible need, and laid in large
stocks in anticipation of the demand, and, last of all, a trench was
dug all round the outer line; its length was seven miles, and its depth
twenty feet, and width in some places nearly fifty feet.