Chapter V: 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.