The armies of the Tsar had by the middle of September established so
firm a foothold upon Austrian territory, and so remote were the chances
of their being dislodged from it, that little surprise was felt at
the issue of a manifesto addressed by the Grand-duke Nicholas to the
inhabitants of the invaded country. It was circulated in all the nine
languages of that wonderfully polyglot population, and the text of it
was as follows:
“PEOPLES OF AUSTRIA-HUNGARY,--The Government of Vienna declared
war on Russia because the great Empire, faithful to its historic
traditions, could not abandon inoffensive Servia or permit her
enslavement.
“Peoples of Austria-Hungary,--In making my entry into the territory
of Austria-Hungary I declare to you, in the name of the great Tsar,
that Russia, who has often shed her blood for the emancipation of
nations from a foreign yoke, seeks only the restoration of right and
justice. To you peoples of Austria-Hungary Russia also brings liberty
and the realisation of your national hopes.
“During long centuries the Austro-Hungarian Government sowed among
you discord and hostility, for she knew that your quarrels were the
basis of her empire over you. Russia, on the other hand, only aims
at enabling each of you to develop and prosper, while preserving the
precious heritage of your fathers, your language, and your faith, and
allowing each of you, united to his brethren, to live in peace and
harmony with his neighbours, respecting their national rights.
“Being sure that you will all lend your strength to the realisation
of this end, I appeal to you to welcome the Russian troops as
faithful friends who are fighting for your best dreams.
(Signed) “NICHOLAS, Commander-in-Chief and Aide-de-Camp General.”
The present may be a convenient opportunity for pausing to consider
briefly a few of the more picturesque “sidelights” of the war, while
vast armies are mustering to the onslaught in Poland, in East Prussia,
and in Austro-Hungary. A good impression was created throughout
the world, as showing the spirit animating the Russian people and
government in the prosecution of the struggle, by the prohibition of
the sale of vodka “for ever” in the Tsar’s dominions. Russia would
henceforth be a sober country, and in the spirit of clear-minded
cheerfulness and serenity would see this world-contest through to
the bitter end. About the same time another Imperial edict seemed to
imply that the Tsar was so well satisfied with the numbers of troops
already mobilised, and with the steady progress being effected by the
field-armies, that Russia’s last line of men was not to be called to
the colours.
Yet the masses of troops still available by the half-beaten Austrians
were remarkable in the extreme. The calling up of their Landsturm gave
them a million of fresh men with which to recoup the enormous wastage
of the earlier battles. To this new million, an estimate of the astute
Colonel Shumsky adds the further resources of the German allies. He
reminds us that “On the list of the German Minister of War there are
4,300,000 trained men. Supposing that the Germans have lost 800,000 in
the fields of Belgium, France, Eastern Prussia, and Galicia, then they
must have 3,500,000 trained men, of whom 1,000,000 are in France. The
remaining 2,500,000 are not occupied with France, and consequently can
operate on the east front. But it must be remembered that if Austria
and Germany have a population of 110,000,000 from which to derive
their troops, their antagonists have not less than 220,000,000. In the
battles of the present war strategy and tactics are playing a secondary
part. All that counts is the numbers and the spirit of the soldier.”
An Italian estimate of about the same date stated that by the month of
October Russia would have fully three millions of men actively engaged
in this complicated theatre of operations--an overwhelming avalanche
of troops, flushed with victory and confident of the ultimate result.
The general reader derived some idea of what the preparation for fight
of the units of such an embattled host really means from a vivid
account in the _Daily Telegraph_ by Mr. Alan Lethbridge, who had been
deputed by that journal to attend the headquarters of the world’s most
gigantic mobilisation. Mr. Lethbridge records, with many human touches,
the gathering together of 30,000 Cossacks within four days after the
outbreak of hostilities. He makes one realise the significance, to the
mind of the local Muscovite peasant, of what is to him very essentially
a holy war, because his “Little Father” the Tsar orders it. He tells,
with rare lucidity and wealth of detail, how he saw the green-and-gold
vested priests, with their ikons and huge crosses borne before them,
blessing the great masses of men amid the prayers and tears of their
womenkind, and solemnly impressing upon their auditors that this was
no war of aggression into which their Tsar had felt himself forced to
enter. He describes how one Siberian township alone (Omsk) contributed
its quota of 75,000 conscripts, and how in a single day he saw at
least a hundred thousand more being transported over one small section
of the Siberian railway. He emphasises the extreme “teetotal” aspect
of all that he saw and heard, remarking that perhaps nothing brought
home to one as much as this the realities and possibilities of the
true awakening of Russia. Incidentally, he gossips amusingly as to a
rumour of Japanese troops passing through Russian townships _en route_
for “the front”--first cousin, this, to the equally fantastic story of
Cossack soldiers having passed through England. The following brief
extract from this correspondent’s account may serve to illustrate the
quiet, business-like aspect of the mobilisation:
“A galloping Cossack with a red pennon fluttering from his lance
was our first intimation that Russia was at war. From the bridge of
a steamer on the river Irtish we could watch him. His stout little
pony easily kept abreast of our boat, and his method of operating was
clearly visible. He would accost a group of his brethren garnering
their harvest--for this is Cossack territory--there would be some
gesticulation, horses would be seized and mounted, and within
five minutes the harvest-fields of the great Siberian steppe would
be denuded of their manhood. Such action was repeated with almost
monotonous precision during that long summer day, and it was thanks
to this organisation that on our arrival at Semipalatinsk, a steppe
town some 600 miles from railhead, we found no less than 30,000 fully
armed and equipped Cossacks. This within four days of the outbreak of
hostilities.”
Side by side with this may be read the testimony of Professor Pares of
the Liverpool University, whose intimate knowledge of the country and
its language admirably qualified him for the work of a correspondent
with the Tsar’s headquarters. Dr. Pares is just as emphatic as the
correspondent just quoted on the subject of the enthusiasm and
unanimity pervading all classes of the community with whom he came in
contact. He pays a passing tribute to the high efficiency of Russia’s
hospital arrangements, to the fine and self-sacrificing labours of all
from the highest to the lowest, and to the serenity and confidence
manifested on every side. He saw the Grand-duchess Olga, sister of
the Emperor, working as a Sister of Mercy, “under all the ordinary
discipline and conditions,” and heard how hard she had had to labour
after the early battles of the campaign, when hospitals designed for
the accommodation of 200 patients were compelled to accommodate at
least 300 each. “One feels it is a great wave rolling forward with one
spirit driving it.”
Dr. Pares was present when the Tsar in person visited Vilna, riding
through the streets quite unguarded. Vilna has for the most part a
Polish population, and from all sides the Tsar was greeted with
an enthusiasm that must have deeply touched and moved him. In the
hospitals the Professor conversed with many of the wounded belonging
to both sides. On the part of most of the Austrians, he says, he
found a general disposition to believe that they had been thoroughly
overmatched on the battle-field. A Russian lad of nineteen or twenty,
who had been sent back home, not on account of wounds but because of
physical overstrain, remarked almost with tears, “They are firing on my
brother and not on me. That is not right--I ought to be where they all
are.”
A story worth interpolating here on account of its military
significance has reference to a rumour that the German Emperor had
addressed a letter to the Dowager-Empress of Russia, calling her
“cousin,” in an attempt to induce her to use her good offices with the
Tsar in order to bring about peace. This missive eventually reached the
headquarters of the Grand-duke Nicholas, who is said to have returned
it to the Tsar with the laconic comment: “If you do, our armies will
mutiny, and there will be a revolution in all the Russias.” It is only
a soldier’s story, but it explains, especially in the final sentence,
why Russia has beaten the Austrian, German, and Austro-German armies
successively.
Nothing could be more noteworthy as emphasising the Russian record
of initial difficulties triumphed over than the preponderance of
Austro-German railway power in the vast war-area. General Kuropatkin,
the Tsar’s Commander-in-Chief in the war with Japan, had as far back
as 1900 called attention to this marked superiority in the Central
Powers’ means of transport. Doubtless upon his initiative, the Russian
railway lines along the Polish frontier were improved to a certain
extent. But, as Austria and Germany were correspondingly busy,
doubtless much of what Kuropatkin had written more than a dozen years
before remained true in 1914--indeed, the celerity with which the enemy
were enabled to rush masses of troops to all their frontiers must have
been one of the earliest things to impress any student of the struggle.
This is how Kuropatkin phrased his plea for a good deal more energy in
the matters of railway development:
“By the expenditure of vast sums of money, Germany has made ready
in the most comprehensive sense to march rapidly across our borders
with an army of one million men. She has seventeen lines of railway
(twenty-three tracks) leading to our frontiers, which would enable her
to send to the front more than five hundred troop-trains daily. She can
concentrate the greater part of her armed forces on our frontier within
a few days of the declaration of war; while, apart from this question
of speedy mobilisation, she has at her command far greater technical
resources, such as light railways, artillery, ordnance, and engineering
stores, particularly for telegraphs, mobile siege parks, etc., than
we have. She has also made most careful preparation for a determined
defence of her own border provinces, especially those of Eastern
Prussia.
“The first-class fortresses of Thorn, Königsberg, and Posen are
improved yearly, entrenched camps are built at the most important
junctions, and material lies ready stacked for the rapid semi-permanent
fortification of field positions. The crossing-places on the Vistula
have been rapidly placed in a state of defence, as have also the
various towns and large villages. The whole population, indeed, is
making ready for a national struggle.
“In the matter of railway development the Austrians have also left
us far behind. While they, by means of eight lines of rail (ten
tracks), can run two hundred and sixty trains up to the frontier every
twenty-four hours, we can only convey troops up to the same point on
four lines. As any of their troops on the frontier would be in advance
of the Carpathians, this range was formerly looked upon as an obstacle
to retirement, and to communication between Galicia and the rest of
Austria. But in the last ten years it has been pierced by five lines of
railway, and preparations have been made to lay three more.”
It will be perceived that General Kuropatkin cherished no optimistic
illusions as to the ultimate aims and aspirations of Germany, neither
did he believe that the shock could be much longer delayed, having
regard to the immense burden of armaments.