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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d171e73 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #56038 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/56038) diff --git a/old/56038-0.txt b/old/56038-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index e9e185f..0000000 --- a/old/56038-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7215 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Port Arthur, by Richard Barry - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Port Arthur - A Monster Heroism - -Author: Richard Barry - -Release Date: November 23, 2017 [EBook #56038] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PORT ARTHUR *** - - - - -Produced by John Campbell and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE - - Italic text is denoted by _underscores_. - - Some minor changes are noted at the end of the book. - - - - -PORT ARTHUR - - - - -[Illustration: _From a painting by Massanovich_ - -_From Everybody’s Magazine, by permission_ - -GOING INTO ACTION - -Out from the maize, on a dog trot, springs a battalion, pushing -across the winnowed terraces, over the stubble. Scientific -fanatics, they, pressing on up to the griddle of death.] - - - - - PORT ARTHUR - - A MONSTER - HEROISM - - BY - RICHARD BARRY - - _Illustrations from Photographs - taken on the field by the Author_ - - NEW YORK - MOFFAT, YARD & COMPANY - 1905 - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1905, BY - MOFFAT, YARD & COMPANY - - _Published April, 1905_ - - - - - TO - FREMONT OLDER - - - - - Grateful acknowledgment of permission to reprint some of the - articles and photographs which enter, with additional new - material, into the redaction of this volume is made to the - Century Magazine, Everybody’s Magazine, Collier’s Weekly, - the Saturday Evening Post, the Scientific American, the - London Fortnightly Review and Westminster Gazette, the Paris - L’Illustration and Le Monde Illustre, and the London Illustrated - News, Black and White, Sphere and Graphic, in which journals they - in part originally appeared. The reproduction of the frontispiece - in oils by Mazzanovich, redrawn from Mr. Barry’s snapshot on the - field, is here made by courtesy of Everybody’s Magazine. - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PREFACE - - PAGE - THE SIEGE AT A GLANCE 15 - - - INTRODUCTORY - - THE INVESTMENT, SIEGE, AND CAPTURE OF PORT ARTHUR 17 - - - CHAPTER I - - THE CITY OF SILENCE 33 - - - CHAPTER II - - THE INVISIBLE ARMY 40 - - - CHAPTER III - - TWO PICTURES OF WAR--A GLANCE BACK 67 - - - CHAPTER IV - - THE JAPANESE KITCHENER 81 - - - CHAPTER V - - CAMP 108 - - - CHAPTER VI - - 203-METER HILL 118 - - - CHAPTER VII - - A SON OF THE SOIL 142 - - - CHAPTER VIII - - THE BLOODY ANGLE 152 - - - CHAPTER IX - - A BATTLE IN THE STORM 164 - - - CHAPTER X - - THE CREMATION OF A GENERAL 183 - - - CHAPTER XI - - THE GENERAL’S PET 191 - - - CHAPTER XII - - COURTING DEATH UNDER THE FORTS 198 - - - CHAPTER XIII - - FROM KITTEN TO TIGER 211 - - - CHAPTER XIV - - SCIENTIFIC FANATICS 234 - - - CHAPTER XV - - JAPAN’S GRAND OLD MAN 253 - - - CHAPTER XVI - - THE COST OF TAKING PORT ARTHUR 276 - - - CHAPTER XVII - - A CONTEMPORARY EPIC 289 - - - CHAPTER XVIII - - THE NEW SIEGE WARFARE 316 - - - EPILOGUE - - THE DOWNFALL 339 - - - - -LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - - - OPPOSITE - PAGE - - Going into Action. From a Painting by Massanovich. - Out from the maize, on a dog trot, springs a - battalion, across the terraces, over the stubble, - these Scientific Fanatics press on, up the Griddle of - Death Frontispiece - - Richard Barry and Frederick Villiers. They were mess-mates - during the siege. Mr. Villiers, the veteran - war artist of seventeen campaigns, was dean of the - War Correspondents at Port Arthur. The photograph - shows them before their Dalny home 34 - - Starting for Port Arthur. Reserve regiment leaving - Dalny for the firing line, eighteen miles away 46 - - General Baron Nogi, Commander of the Third Imperial - Japanese Army, studying the Defenses of Port - Arthur in his Manchurian Garden in the Willow - Tree Village 62 - - General Baron Kodama, Chief of the Japanese Staff, - standing on his door step 84 - - Bo-o-om! Discharge of the Japanese 11-inch mortar - during the Grand Bombardment of October 29th. - This gun stood a mile and a half from Port Arthur - and is shown firing into the Two Dragon Redoubt. - The vibration made a clear photograph impossible 112 - - The Hyposcope. Lieutenant Oda looking from 203-Meter - Hill through the hyposcope at the Russian - fleet in the new harbor at Port Arthur 120 - - Orphans. Driven from home by shells which killed - their father and mother, these brothers tramped - from camp to camp selling eggs 148 - - Human Barnacles. Clinging to the bases of the - forts, like barnacles to a ship, these sturdy Japanese - existed in wretched quarters throughout the summer, - autumn and half the winter 160 - - Ammunition for the Front 180 - - How They Got in. Eighteen miles of these terminal - trenches were dug through the plain before the - Russian forts 202 - - The Last Word. The officer is giving last instructions - to his men before the Grand Assault of September - 21st. This photograph was taken in the front - Parallel, 300 yards from the Cock’s Comb Fort 222 - - Preparing for Death. A superstition holds that the - Japanese soldier who dies dirty finds no place among - the Shinto shades; so, before going into action, every - soldier changes his linen, as this one is doing 241 - - A map of Port Arthur. Showing the defenses and - the direction of the Japanese attack 281 - - Home. The shack, 800 yards from the firing line, - occupied for three months by the fighting General - Oshima, Commander of the Ninth Division 290 - - Plunder. Showing Adjutant Hori, Secretary to General - Oshima, standing near plunder taken from the - captured Turban Fort 290 - - In action. Loading a 4.7 gun of the ordinary field - artillery during the assault of September 20th 312 - - The Osacca Babe. Loading the 11-inch coast defense - mortar during the general bombardment of October - 29th, two miles from Port Arthur 332 - - - - - Cloud girt among her mountains, - Nippon, in wrath as of old, - Unleashes her young warrior; - Lo, the world’s champion behold! - - He comes abysmal as chaos, - A boy with the smile of a girl, - Tumbles his man with a handshake, - And spits him up with a twirl. - - Nourished on rice and a dewdrop, - He fans him to sleep with a star, - Believing the fathers of Nippon - Created things as they are. - - So up and across the short ocean - He sails to the land of can’t, - To keep up the name of his fathers - And smash down the things that shan’t. - - Ah! What a freshet of glory - When into the noisy fray - Against a shaggy old giant - Comes this youth asmile and gay! - - - - -PREFACE - -THE SIEGE AT A GLANCE - - -The sea attack on Port Arthur began on February 9th, 1904, at noon. -The land isolation occurred on May 26th, when the Second Army, -under General Oku, took Nanshan Hill. Four grand series of Russian -defenses from Nanshan down the peninsula were then taken by the -Japanese. The capture of Taikushan on August 9th, of Shokushan -two days later, and of Takasakiyama the following day, drove the -Russians into their permanent works. The real siege of Port Arthur -began, thus, on August 12th, and continued for four months and -nineteen days. - -The failure of the first grand assault, continuing seven days -from August 19th, forced Nogi and his army to go slowly about the -terrific job of digging a way into the fortress. In the following -four months there occurred six more grand assaults, the periods -between them being occupied in mining, sapping, and engineering. -What was known as the second assault was made from September 19th -to 25th; the third from October 29th to November 1st; the fourth -from November 28th to 30th; the fifth from December 4th to 9th; the -sixth from December 18th to 20th; the final assault from December -28th to 31st. The morning of January 1st, 1905, General Stoessel, -the Russian commander, asked for terms of capitulation, and the -following day these terms were submitted and ratified. - -The grand strategy of the Japanese operations was simple. It -comprehended one brief design: to demonstrate on the west, where -203-Meter Hill is, while the infantry and the heavy ordnance -smashed the Russian right center, where are located the principal -Russian forts, Keekwan (Cock’s Comb), Ehrlung (Two Dragons), and -Panlung (Eternal Dragon). Four and a half months of sapping, -mining, bombarding, and hand-to-hand fighting, than which history -holds no record of more desperate contest, won the forts of the -Cock’s Comb and the Two Dragons for the Japanese. The fall of the -Two Dragons on December 31st brought Stoessel to his knees. - - - - -INTRODUCTORY - -THE INVESTMENT, SIEGE, AND CAPTURE OF PORT ARTHUR - - -In all the long history of military exploits, there is not one -that can compare, in point of difficulties surmounted, with the -reduction of Port Arthur. That this fortress should have been taken -by assault entitles the Japanese operations to rank with the finest -work done by any army in any age; that it should have been taken in -five months from the day on which the investment was completed (the -day on which the Russians were driven into their permanent works) -is an exploit which has never been approached. For Port Arthur’s -defenses had been laid out on the most modern plan. Nature, -moreover, has cast the topographical features of the place on lines -that are admirably suited to defense. The harbor is surrounded by -two approximately concentric ranges of hills, the crests of which -are broken by a series of successive conical elevations. The -engineers took the suggestion thus offered, and ran two concentric -lines of fortification around the city, building massive masonry -forts on the highest summits, and connecting them by continuous -defensive works. The inner line of the forts lay at an average -distance of one mile from the city, and constituted the main line -of permanent defense; the outer line, at an average distance of -a mile and a half from Port Arthur. Beyond these again were the -semi-permanent defenses. The positions of the various forts were -chosen in such a relation to each other that they were mutually -supporting--that is to say, if any one were captured by the enemy, -it could not be held because it was dominated by the fire from the -neighboring forts; and, indeed, it often happened that the Japanese -seized positions from which they were driven in this way. - -In the majority of cases the slope of the hills was very steep, and -what was even worse for the Japanese, smooth and free from cover; -so that if an attempt were made to rush the works, a charge would -have to be made over a broad glacis, swept by the shrapnel, machine -gun, and rifle fire of the defenders. Once across the danger zone, -the attack was confronted by the massive masonry parapets of the -fort, over which the survivors, cut down to a mere handful, would -be powerless to force an entrance. - -The defense of Port Arthur, however, did not stop at the outer -line of fortifications, but extended no less than eighteen miles -to the northward, to a point where the peninsula on which Port -Arthur is situated narrows to a width of three miles. Here a range -of conical hills, not unlike some of those at Port Arthur, reaches -from sea to sea; and these had been ringed with intrenchments for -troops and masked (or hidden) emplacements for artillery. Between -Nanshan and Port Arthur the Russians had built four more lines -of intrenchments, reaching from sea to sea, all very strong and -admirably suited for defense. Now it must be borne in mind that all -this wonderful net-work of fortifications, strong by nature of the -ground, strong by virtue of the great skill and care with which it -had been built, was distinguished from all other previous defensive -works by the fact that in this fortress, for the first time, were -utilized all those terrible agencies of war which the rapid -advance of science in the past quarter of a century has rendered -available. Among these we may mention rapid-fire guns, machine -guns, smokeless powder, artillery of high velocity and great -range, high explosive shells, the magazine rifle, the telescopic -sight giving marvelous accuracy of fire, the range-finder giving -instantaneously the exact distance of the enemy, the searchlight, -the telegraph and the telephone, starlight bombs, barbed-wire -entanglements, and a dozen other inventions, all of which were -deemed sufficient, when applied to such stupendous fortifications -as those of Port Arthur, to render them absolutely impregnable. - -The Russians believed them to be so--certainly the indomitable -Stoessel did. And well he might; for there was no record in history -of any race of fighters, at least in modern times, that could face -such death-dealing weapons, and not melt away so swiftly before -their fury as to be swept away in defeat. - -But a new type of fighter has arisen, as the sequel was to tell. - -On February 8, 1904, the first blow fell upon Port Arthur in that -famous night attack by the torpedo boats. On February 9th occurred -the engagement between the remnant of the Russian fleet and the -Japanese fleet under Admiral Togo which ended in the Russian -retreat into the harbor and the closing of Port Arthur by sea. - -On May 26th the Japanese Second Army, which had been landed at -Petsewo Bay, attacked the first line of defense at Nanshan, -eighteen miles north of Port Arthur, and gave an inkling of the -mettle of the Japanese troops by capturing the position in a -frontal attack. The Japanese pushed on to Port Arthur and there -followed, in quick succession, a series of bloody struggles at the -successive lines of defense in which the Japanese would not be -denied. The fiercest fight took place at the capture of a double -height, Kenshan and Weuteughshan, which Stoessel re-attacked -vainly for three days, losing three times as many men as were lost -originally in the attempt to hold the position. - -On May 29th Dalny was occupied, and became the base of the -besieging army. A railway runs from Dalny for three miles to a -junction with the main line from the north to Port Arthur. - -On August 9th to 11th the outlying semi-permanent works Taikushan -and Shokushan, lying about three and one-half miles from Port -Arthur, were taken, and the Russians driven in to their permanent -positions. - -The army detailed for the capture of Port Arthur was 60,000 strong; -Stoessel at the date of the battle of Nanshan probably had 35,000 -men. - -Encouraged by their uninterrupted success in capturing Russian -intrenchments by dashing frontal attack, the Japanese, particularly -after their brilliant success of August 9th to 11th, believed that -they could storm the main defenses in like manner. They hurled -themselves against the Russian right center in a furious attack -upon the line of forts stretching from the railway around the -easterly side of the town to the sea. For seven days they battled -furiously. But the wave of conquest that had flowed over four lines -of defense, broke utterly against the fifth; and after a continuous -struggle, carried on day and night, beneath sunlight, moon, and -searchlight, they retired completely baffled, with an awful -casualty list of 25,000 men. - -On September 1st the Japanese, finding that they could not take -Port Arthur by assault, settled down to reduce it by an engineering -siege. This latter was carried on by means of “sapping and mining,” -supported by heavy bombardment, its object being to shake the -defense by terrific artillery fire, blow up the parapets and -other defenses by subterranean mines, and capture the fortress by -fierce assaults delivered from concealed trenches close to the -fortifications. Sapping and mining may be described as a method -of attack by tunneling. The Japanese found that they could not -get into the forts by a rush above ground, so they determined to -burrow in below ground. The main attack was directed against the -line of forts to the east of the city, or the Russian right center. -The first operation was to cut a deep trench, not less than six -feet in depth and a dozen or more feet in width, roughly parallel -with the line of forts, and at a distance of about 1,000 yards -therefrom. From this trench three lines of zigzag trenches were -dug in the direction of the principal forts of Ehrlung, Keekwan, -and Panlung. These trenches were about six feet deep (deep enough -to hide the sappers from view) and eight feet wide (wide enough -to allow the troops to march to the assault four abreast). The -zigzag consisted of an alternate approach and parallel, the former -extending diagonally toward the fortification, the latter parallel -with it. The angle of the diagonal approaches was always carefully -mapped out by the engineers, and was so laid with reference to -the enemy’s forts that it could neither be seen nor reached by -shell fire. The digging was done chiefly at night, and the soil -was carried back through the excavated trenches in gabions and on -stretchers, and dumped out of sight of the enemy. As the parallels -were advanced across the valley or level spaces, they were roofed -at intervals, with planks covered with soil and grass, so that as -the Russians looked out toward the ravine in which the army was -supposed to be encamped, there was nothing to indicate that the -enemy was cutting a series of covered roadways, right up to the -base of the forts themselves. Of course in many cases the trenches -were located, and desperate night sorties were made in the endeavor -to break up the work. But it went remorselessly forward. When the -foot of the fortified slopes was reached, a second great parallel, -extending around the whole face of the fortified eastern front, -was cut--this latter for the purpose of assembling the troops for -the final dash upon the forts. From this parallel the Japanese cut -tunnels straight through the hills until they found themselves -immediately below the massive parapets of such forts as they wished -to reach. Here cross tunnels were cut, parallel with the walls and -immediately below them, in which tons of dynamite were placed and -the wires laid ready for the great explosion--much of this being -done, it must be remembered, entirely unknown to the Russians, -secure in their great fortifications overhead. The work of the -sappers and miners was now complete. - -It must not be supposed that while this slow work was being carried -on, the garrison at Port Arthur, or the city itself, or even the -fleet in the harbor, was being left in peace, or had any respite -from the harassments of the siege. For as soon as the investment -was complete, the Japanese erected hidden batteries in various -carefully-selected positions, until they had no less than 300 -guns trained against the city. All the furious assaults that -failed so disastrously were preceded by bombardments, the like of -which had never been witnessed in the history of the world. These -batteries consisted of regular siege guns of from 5 inches to 6 -inches caliber, a large number of naval guns of 4.7-inch and 6-inch -caliber, and the regular field ordnance of the three divisions and -two independent brigades composing the Third Imperial Army. - -By far the most formidable pieces used in the bombardment, however, -were the powerful 11-inch mortars, which were mounted in batteries -of from two to four in various positions behind the ranges of hills -which effectually screened the Japanese from Russian observation. -The pieces are the Japanese latest type of coast-defense mortars, -such as are used along the Straits of Shimoneseki and about the Bay -of Yezo. They were brought by sea to Dalny, carried by railroad -for a distance of fifteen miles to the end of the track, and from -thence were hauled by hand over special tracks laid direct to the -emplacements. In some cases, indeed, the guns were dragged on -rollers through the sand, as many as 800 men being required to -haul a single mortar; for the mortar barrels, without the carriage, -weigh eight tons apiece. This task was accomplished under fire, in -rainy weather, and in the night, to the accompaniment of bursting -shrapnel and other discouragements which would have daunted a less -dauntless race. Even when the selected site of the batteries was -reached, every one of the eighteen mortars had to be placed upon -a concrete foundation eight feet in depth and eighteen feet in -diameter. In each case an excavation had to be dug, the concrete -prepared and rammed into place, the heavy foundation plates, -traversing racks, and the massive gun carriage, weighing much -more than the gun itself, erected and adjusted, and the whole of -the heavy and costly piece put together with the greatest nicety. -All through the long months in which the sappers and miners were -cutting their trenches, the engineers were putting in place these -huge mortars, which were not originally intended, be it remembered, -for such field operations as these; but were designed for permanent -sea-coast fortifications around the harbors of Japan. - -The mortar itself has a bore of 28 centimeters, or 11 inches. -The shells are designed to burst on contact. They are loaded -with a high explosive designed by the Japanese Dr. Shimose, and -corresponding in its terrific bursting effects to the English -lyddite, the French melinite, and our own maximite. Each shell -weighs 500 pounds. Its cost is $175, and the cost of each -discharge, including that of the impelling power, is about $400. -During the heavy bombardments, each gun was fired once every eight -minutes, and as the grand bombardment lasted in every case about -four hours, the cost for these mortar batteries alone must have -been over $200,000, and for the whole of the batteries, including -naval guns, machine guns, etc., the cost of each bombardment was -approximately half a million dollars. The 11-inch mortar has a -maximum range, with a moderate degree of elevation, of seven or -eight miles; but as none of these batteries were more than three -miles distant from the point of attack, they were fired at angles -of as great as sixty degrees, the huge shells hurtling high into -the heavens, passing over two ranges of hills, and falling like -thunderbolts out of the blue sky, vertically upon the devoted city. - -But if the batteries were located behind hills that entirely shut -out the object of attack from view, how, it will be asked, could -the guns be aimed with such accuracy, to sink, as they did, a whole -fleet of warships, one by one? It was in this way: For the attack -of stationary objects such as forts, docks, buildings, ships at -anchor, etc., the artillery officers were provided with a map of -the whole area of bombardment, which was laid out in squares, each -square having its own number. The Japanese having, at the close -of the Chinese war, been in possession of Port Arthur themselves, -and having possessed during the past few years an excellent bureau -of intelligence, knew the exact location of every building or -object of importance in and around the city. Consequently, when -the artillery officers were directed to attack a building in a -certain square, or a particular fort, they knew exactly what angle -of elevation to give their gun, and how far to traverse it, so as -to cause the shell to fall with mathematical accuracy upon the -particular object to be hit. - -The attack upon the warships, however, was another proposition, -for they could be, and were, shifted, from time to time. To make -sure of hitting them, it was necessary to have some direct line -of vision. The Japanese knew that such a line of vision could be -obtained from the top of a hill to the west of the city known -as 203-Meter Hill--the Russians knew it, too. Hence that awful -struggle for possession of this hill, which cost so many thousands -of lives. The Japanese won the position. When they had taken it, -they placed observers provided with the hyposcope--a telescope that -enables the observer to observe the surrounding country with out -exposing himself above the surrounding parapet--upon the summit, -in suitable positions, and held the hill with sufficient force to -prevent its being retaken. The batteries were then trained at the -individual warships, and the effects of the shells was telephoned -from 203-Meter Hill to the various batteries, and the errors -corrected, according as they were long, short, or wide, until the -huge shells commenced to drop with unerring accuracy down through -the decks and out through the bottom of the doomed warships. The -ships tried to escape observation by hiding on the outside of the -harbor behind the Tiger’s Tail hills, and in a cove behind Golden -Hill; but there was no escape, and ultimately every ship of the -squadron was sunk. - -That was the beginning of the end. The 11-inch batteries when -directed at the forts tore gaping holes in the parapets, and -according to the testimony of General Stoessel, they were simply -irresistible. One by one, after furious bombardments, the -walls of the great forts were blown up by the explosion of the -subterranean mines that had been laid by the sappers and miners, -and the Japanese massed in readiness for the attack in the inner -parallels swept in through the wide gaps thus formed, and seized -the fortifications, from which, a few months before, they had been -swept back in terrible and crushing defeat. - - - - -PORT ARTHUR - - - - -Chapter One - -THE CITY OF SILENCE - - -Dalny, August 3d: Guns have blown their thunder to us distantly -all the afternoon. The sounds boom a low thud with monotonous -distinctness. Lounging on the taffrail of a small cargo steamer in -Dalny Bay they strike those of us who are innocent of war, who have -never felt the thrill, the halt and the plunge of battle as tame; -almost without interest. In a California cottage, a summer’s night, -a mile from the seashore I have listened before now to the surf -climb up and lay down upon the beach with the same heavy lust. - -This sound has in it, too, something of nature’s immanence and -majesty; an elemental force of decay and a primal grandeur of -progress. Yet it is ominously deadly. The sky above is a perfect -azure, the sea below a perfect turquoise, the town beyond a haze -of tranquil ocher. We are lying among warships, but they are -silent. Beyond us a troopship is unloading a thousand conscripts -for the trenches, but they are silent. The city of Dalny is -beautiful--and silent. Silence everywhere. Then comes that -boom--silence--boom--boom--boom! The captain steps up and speaks a -few words. We begin to realize that we are listening to siege guns -pounding the life out of a doomed city. The captain waves an arm -toward a point of land to be seen faintly through a glass. Only -half a day’s walk that way and beyond--to the southeast--lies Port -Arthur. - -We are ten. Yesterday there landed here eight military -observers--four British, one Spaniard, one German, one Chilean and -one American. These eighteen have been assigned by the Japanese -Government to the army now operating against Port Arthur. The -eighteen are the only Occidentals who will see the siege. - -[Illustration: WAR CORRESPONDENTS - -Richard Barry and Frederic Villiers. Mr. Villiers (in -knickerbockers) the veteran of seventeen campaigns, was Dean of the -War Correspondents before Port Arthur.] - -Four days ago we left Moji in a transport steamer, the _Oyomaru_. -The ship’s name tells of the trip--“The prosperous ocean -ship.” We might have come across a millpond so placid was our -journey. Yesterday afternoon we sighted a line of sand piles and -verdure-covered rocks rising out of the ocean. We were about to -steam past when a flash of sunlight, like a gay salute from a boy’s -pocket mirror, struck our bow. It was the heliograph. The _Oyomaru_ -put to port and slid in under the lee of the islands. As we came up -an old gray battleship veered on her anchor to give us room and as -we turned her bows we floated in among the fleet, dragging at its -chains, steam up, waiting to dash at the word to Port Arthur, four -miles away. - -We were at the Elliot Islands, inhabited by fisher folk and seized -by the Japanese for a naval base. Around us lay the silence of -death, though twenty men-of-war were within gun shot. Only the -spiral upshoot of smoke from fifty stacks and the heave and push -of tide-driven fighting craft gave evidence of the tensity we were -in. From the highest hill a thin shaft, like a straw in the wind, -cut against the sunset. There lay the wireless-telegraph station -to which are flashed signals from the torpedo craft and cruisers -guarding the mouth of Port Arthur. - -At dawn we left the fleet, silent, with that lazy curl of smoke -uplifting its ragged fringe. On for five hours we came at ten knots -until we rounded a cape and turned into Talienwan Bay. In the -farther curve, as a pebble in a sling, lay Dalny. - -“It looks like Greece; the Piraeus with Marathon in the distance,” -said Frederic Villiers. I thought of another place; San Diego Bay -with Point Loma curving a crescent out of the Pacific. - -The Russians came here to stay; that is plain. We can see miles of -brick buildings, some five stories high. The great brick chimney -of an electric light plant towers above the city. The public -buildings, hospitals, schools and railroad station are as fine as -those of Los Angeles. Costly villas with spacious grounds, coolie -covered, stretch back under the hillsides. A zoological garden of -several dozen acres can be seen off at the left. There are miles -of new wharves cemented and built with stone. Two piers strike out -four hundred yards into the harbor, locked down by solid masonry. -A breakwater half a mile long stretches at our stern. - -Ten years ago could the Romanoff seated in the Winter Palace at -Petersburg, placing a finger on the map of western Asia, as he -said: “Let there be a Russian city here;”--could he possibly have -foreseen to-day?--the Russians gone, half of the magnificent -city burned, the safe and beautiful harbor filled with Japanese -transports and men-of-war, the railway held for a Japanese line of -advance and Russian prestige on the Manchurian littoral smashed -like a rotten egg! - -This afternoon we have found how desperate the silence is. For mere -movement after three days on shipboard and five months solitary -confinement in Tokyo we asked to launch the ship’s boat and row -about the harbor. The captain assented. Eight of us got in and -started off among the transports. Next to us was a hospital ship -painted white with a green stripe running across her middle like -an abdominal bandage round an invalid. “Looks as enticing as a -cocktail before dinner,” said one of the boys. It did have a cool -glance that must be grateful to a wounded man just in from the -battlefield. We but turned her bows when we ran into a warship--a -gunboat of the third class. She was in black, with red stripes -about her portholes and stanchions. The gun carriages were outlined -in red--stuff put on to keep off rust. Just beyond the gunboat lay -a torpedo destroyer--the most devilish craft that floats--long, -thin, low, with four thick funnels above engines like a bull’s -lungs. - -As we passed the gunboat a bugle piped “to quarters” and several -officers turned their glasses on us. But on we went, gay with -the freedom of the lark, and stretching our ship-bound muscles -against the buffeting of the choppy sea. Yonder lay the torpedo -boats and brother destroyers and beyond an armored cruiser of the -second class. The cruiser piped “to quarters” and more glasses were -leveled on us. - -About this time the coxswain turned her nose to the _Oyomaru_, but -before we got there the ship’s sampan glided alongside, the mate in -her alive, jabbering Nipponese and gesticulating toward the ship. -We hurried back. - -As we climbed on board Villiers yelled: “You’ve spoiled it now. -You’ll never see Port Arthur.” - -Then we found we had created a sensation--this strange boat manned -by eight foreigners, appearing in broad afternoon in the harbor -of the nearest naval base to the scene of the fleet’s activities. -Two warships had prepared to fire on us at word of command and -signaling from the fleet to the shore had only found that it was -“supposed” we were “neutral allies,” but that officially we could -not be recognized. The captain was reprimanded and we were told to -keep close to the ship until released. Tokyo had said nothing of us -to Dalny. To-morrow we will be released. But we will not again go -about the harbor. We will go on shore. We will have ears and eyes, -but no legs or tongues. - - - - -Chapter Two - -THE INVISIBLE ARMY - - -Ho-o-zan, (the Phœnix Mountain) three miles from and looking into -Port Arthur, Sept. 14th: Here we are with the Third Imperial Army -waiting for Russia’s downfall in the Far East. With her fleet gone, -Russia’s sea power has vanished. With Kuropatkin smashed it will be -another year before she can have a great army in the field. So now -there remains only impregnable Port Arthur to say that Russia but -eight months ago held all Manchuria. - -Ten of us are privileged to follow the fortunes of the army of -investment. We alone of eighty-four war correspondents who entered -the field are here to record the details of a siege that promises -to go down in history with Plevna and Sebastopol. At the present -time I may tell you only of how the army lives and works, and what -sensations engulf one in the midst of this elemental contest at -the apex of a world, where two civilizations are in life and death -throes. - -Impregnable is the word for the line of forts confronting us. -Military authorities innumerable have predicted it would never -be taken from a white soldiery, although Japan ten years ago did -take it, in a single day of fierce assault, from the weakly armed -and poorly trained Chinese. But through seven years Russia has -been preparing for what she faces to-day--a great army of veteran -troops from a warlike nation, equipped for scientific fighting and -officered by men trained in the best schools in the world. She has -repaired and rebuilt the old Chinese Wall till it lies across the -back of the city, from sea to sea, a buttress of protection and -menace, plentifully loopholed for rifles and hung at intervals, -like huge fobs on a gigantic chain, with forts. Every natural -elevation is commanded by a battery, and every weak depression -built up for similar defense. Six miles from sea to sea, convex -into the valley, and cutting off the apex of the Liaotung peninsula -as a conical cake might be cut by a spoon, lies this bristling -line. Looking at it, and what confronts it from above, this -appears as grand a battlefield as the mind can conceive. - -The mere names of some of the forts bring gleams of the situation. -To our right, in the center, lie Anzushan and Etzeshan, the Chair -and Table Mountains. Some giant might hang his legs over Anzushan -and sup from Etzeshan, but were he built in proportion he would -be nearly two thousand feet high, for they rise from the valley -precipitously half that distance. It was here, the key to the -center, that the Japanese pierced the line ten years ago, but -they have tried no such move this time; a different foe confronts -them now. Far beyond the Chair and Table Mountains, the key to -the outer, we see Golden Mount, the key to the inner defenses, at -once a sea and land fort. It shines glorious and confident in the -sunlight, the model of a conventionally built fortification, rising -square and solid from the hills, buttressed with sod and sand bags -and parapeted on a bevel. - -After all the outer seventeen forts have fallen and after that -terrible Chinese Wall has been pierced, there still remains Golden -Mount, the Tiger’s Tail and Liaotishan. Just below Golden Mount, -to be seen only from a certain angle in the valley in front of -us, lie the shattered remnant of the Russian fleet--three gray -old battleships, four tarnished cruisers and a half dozen torpedo -boats, smashed and done by Togo’s fleet, whose smoke curls -irregularly over the sky line as it tugs warily there on perpetual -watch, a watch uninterrupted for seven months, in which the -monotony has been varied by three great naval battles. - -To the right of Golden Mount and still below it lies the new town -of Port Arthur built by the Russians. Hid behind a hill is the old -town of frame houses. There is not a living thing to be seen on the -streets, lying in plain view through a strong glass, as though in -miniature on the palm of your hand. It is unharmed and spotless, -seemingly in fresh paint. Four sticks piercing the sky line tell -of the wireless telegraph station. To the right a huge crane can -be seen sticking up to indicate the dock yards and a patch of -blue, landlocked water, the west harbor. Nearest us the arsenal -and railroad shops are plain. Then comes the railroad mockingly -deserted in the sunlight. Then a high embankment shuts the view, -but we know that under the embankment nestles a series of barracks. -Far out on the plain, between the two armies, and between us on -the mountain and the Russian forts, two miles off, a lone factory -chimney up-slants to the blue; though bursting shells have been -thick about there it is unharmed, and, so far as we can see, Port -Arthur is unharmed. So far the Japanese have not shelled it at all. -But we are told the navy has wrecked the Russian quarter. The army -scorns to destroy the city which now lies at the mercy of its siege -guns, just as it scorns to starve out the beleaguered garrison. It -is a civilized game the Japanese are playing, one of strategy and -force. - -Far down in the plain called the Mariner’s, or the Shuishiying -Valley, a little to the left and back of the lone chimney, is a -great fort known as the Two Dragons, a most difficult place to take -because of its long approaches. It is the advance guard of the -Russian line; only eight hundred yards from the Japanese trenches. -Far out to the right, resting on the northern arm of Pigeon Bay, -is a bald-headed peak some eight hundred feet high. This is -Liaotishan, the extreme left of the Russian position. Behind the -town are great peaks, the highest hereabouts, and on them, in the -early morning, four brass cannons can be seen glittering. They are -thought to be dummy cannon, for they have not yet spoken. - -To the left of the town, with its Golden Mount, begin the really -great forts, scenes of carnage destined for history’s brightest -page, and about which have taken place the battles I am about -to describe. The Eternal Dragon and the three batteries of the -Cock’s Comb are the essential. Far behind this Eternal Dragon and -the wall, a few hundred yards from the sea, is a wooded driveway, -leading to a mountain called Wangtai, or “the watch tower.” Up -this, of an afternoon, a carriage can sometimes be seen drawn by -white horses. Prisoners tell us it is General Stoessel’s carriage -and that he thus goes to his headquarters. Why is he not fired -upon? Because he is out of close rifle range and the Japanese never -waste a shell on a single man or on even a group. - -Occasionally we can see men moving a heavy gun about, or walking in -squads through the town. The Japanese wait to concentrate their -fire; they never harass the enemy. On the contrary, the Russians, -now when they should hoard every shell, waste hundreds each day. -They will fling a six-inch screamer at a mule or an umbrella, and -no part of the Japanese rear is safe, though distances are so great -that the chances of being hit are one in a thousand. - -[Illustration: OFF FOR PORT ARTHUR - -A reserve regiment leaving Dalny for the firing line eighteen miles -away.] - -All is quiet except that now and then a Russian shell whizzes. -The sound can no longer be called the “boom of cannon,” so savage -and rending is the detonation of these mighty modern charges. To -hear one explode even half a mile off sets every fiber of the -body in action, so angry is the report. Infantry popping can be -heard, oftenest in the night, as the outposts come together, or the -sentries chaff each other by showing dummy heads or arms. But over -beyond that ragged line we know that twenty thousand men, driven -into a corner--and what a corner it is!--are fighting like rats -in a hole, that they are of the same blood that defeated Napoleon -when on the defense a century ago, the same that half a century -ago stubbornly contested Sebastopol, the same that a quarter of -a century ago, at appalling loss of life, reduced the marvelous -Plevna. They sit thus hunted, at bay, well ammunitioned and -provisioned, determined to sell every ounce of blood dearly. - -To take Port Arthur seems impossible. It takes men drunk with -victory and strong in ancient might to dare the task. It is only -looking at what the Japanese have already taken that makes one have -faith in their ability to do what they are now trying; otherwise, -looking across at that six-mile line, one would say as he might -have said of the ridges lying behind us: human energy and prowess -cannot force them; only madmen would attempt it. But the Japanese -have already forced at least five positions, seemingly as difficult -as Port Arthur. First, they took Nanshan, which was even worse than -this, for the approaches were gradual for two miles, while here -precipitous heights and deep ravines give shelter. Nanshan the -Japanese took in a single desperate day; Kenzan, where they had to -climb hand over hand, they scaled in a night; Witozan, where they -broke in over parapets built on rocks seven hundred feet above the -sea, they reduced at high noon; Anshirey, where the road climbs -up a spiral for a mile, and is raked at every yard, they enfiladed -and took in two days; and Taikushan, a saddle of malachite and -granite straddling the main road to Port Arthur, they shelled out -in thirty-six hours. Thus it is we have faith that some morning the -world will wake to hear that the Rising Sun flies over Port Arthur, -which the military experts of the Powers have declared impregnable. - -Bitter as the contest is, war has not touched the bowels of the -land. Looking into the plain behind me I can see a score of busy -and peaceful villages serene in a sea of golden harvest. Maize and -buckwheat, beans and millet, cabbage and barley alternate green -and russet over the meadows. Springless bullock carts, ancient as -Jerusalem, helped by tiny donkeys and naked children, painfully -garner the grain. Women sing in low monotones at the primitive -stone mills where blindfolded donkeys travel all day in a circle, -grinding out the seed and flour. Lines of coolies wend through -the footpaths, spring-kneed with huge weights on limber poles. -Shells at the rate of four or five an hour drop into this great -area, separated from the field of battle by a range of mountains, -plowing up a hill, shattering a house, tearing a road, killing a -donkey, wounding a coolie, but of no great damage. No one minds. -The harvest goes on. The glorious, golden September continues. The -women sing, the naked children play, the tiny donkeys labor. - -It is the plain in front, under the Cock’s Comb and the Golden -Mount, guarded by the Two Dragons that has desolate quiet. There -the maize is untouched and the heavy heads of the millet fall from -sheer weight, while the cabbages are crushed by infantry passing in -the night. Fires have blackened the villages, the Manchurians have -fled, and in ragged lines from sea to sea the two armies hold their -hostile trenches, from which, through the twenty-four hours, goes -up the intermittent ping and pop of rifle bullets. - -What of the army? You cannot see it; much less can you hear it. An -army of a hundred thousand men is here, around us, among us, but -we do not know it, we can hardly guess it. Little would one think, -were it not for the firing, that so much as a company were idling -along that plain. A machine gun rattles, a low, deep boom comes -from the sea; the forts reply, a flash streaks the air, we see a -puff of smoke, then a cloud of earth is thrown up; finally, after -a long while, as we are about to turn away, the angry shriek of a -shell comes over and we hear it burst a thousand yards below in -the valley. Only our ears tell us that war is on. The Japanese are -as invisible as the Russians. It will take days and weeks to spy -out the labyrinthine ways of this great army as it toils among the -hills, into the valley and up the ravines, mounting its guns, and -digging its way up to the parapets, where its units will cling, -like barnacles to a ship, until the monstrous hulk founders. - -But getting down into the rear plain, traveling the road, taking -a different one each day, passing among the villages and through -the hills, one begins to realize that the country is honeycombed -by grim activity. Back and forth, from the front to Cho-ray-che, a -railroad station halfway from Port Arthur to Dalny, travel lines of -transport. Each line has from one to five dozen light wagons drawn -by single small shaggy horses, each guided by a small dust-visaged -soldier. - -“There is the strength of our army,” said an officer to me one -day as a company of them passed, grimed, heated, menial. They are -the flower of Japanese youth, clerks, professional men, students, -exiled on rice and pickled plums, getting none of the glory of war. -They are the unnamed and unknown but all-powerful commissary. - -As the transport passes in, loaded with bags of rice, there comes -out another line, this time of coolies, paired, and well burdened -with human freight. They are bearing the wounded, in bamboo -stretchers that do not jolt the piteously shattered frames, to -the railroad station, whence they go by train to Dalny, thence by -hospital ship to Japan. Every day comes this dribble of wounded, -some days only a score, but after a battle the ways are thick with -them--hundreds, thousands. - -Occasionally, but very seldom, a battalion or a regiment of -infantry will be seen moving in, with compact lines, knapsacks on -back, bearing rifles with the barrel holes brass covered. The -other night over by the western sea I suddenly came upon a troop -of cavalry racing along the sands in the sunset. They rode their -horses well, considering that the Japanese is not a horseman. Each -had an extra mount. They frolicked like plainsmen till the coves -rang. I had not seen so much gayety before in all the Japanese -army. But what can cavalry do at a siege? - -For the sublime we need not go to the firing line where men risk -their lives and lose them. At the front of our mountain lies a deep -rutted road, at the end of which, hid well among the hills, is -the hole for a concrete gun-emplacement, redoubted with sandbags, -the glacis slippery with shale. Along this road as the sun sinks -we see what looks like a gigantic snake, its tail pulling an ugly -head slowly backward, its dust-covered belly squirming laboriously. -Descending we find a cable thick as a man’s thigh stretched between -two long lines of men, each of whom has hold and is pulling -that ugly head--a siege gun--nose and breech clap-boarded, and -wallowing, without its carriage, on wooden rollers. We count the -men--300. Men alone can do the work, for they alone can move in -unison, quietly, at the word of command. There is no noise. The -commands cannot be heard five hundred yards away. The three hundred -bend their backs as one and the Pride of Osacca bunts her nose -through the dust a rod nearer emplacement. They toil there a week -to get that monster into position, pygmies moving a power that -will rend the mountains, as tradition has it that Hendrick Hudson -and his crew moved the ships’ cannon into the Catskills for the -eternal generation of Knickerbocker thunder. To look upon that gun, -helpless but disputatious in the hands of the three hundred, to -realize that a week hence its bulk, into which one of these naked -Manchurian children can easily creep, will toss five hundred weight -of shell five miles through the air into one of those Russian forts -where it will shatter the skill, labor, and life of an Empire--ah, -that is sublime! Is it not also terrible? - -The same scientific skill with which the gun is handled is seen -throughout the army. Even after a battle, in the disorder of -regiments, the search for the wounded, the burial of the dead, -there is no confusion. All moves quietly and quickly. No officer -swears, for the simple reason that the Japanese language hasn’t -the words. Only the interpreters, who know English, swear. They, -however, can be excused; they handle the correspondents, to whom -they can’t speak, as the soldiers do to the Russians, with lead. -You read of “the confusion and bustle of an army” and “the terrors -of war.” There is no confusion, no terror here. No shrieks, no -shouts, no hurrying. Once, as a regiment, after losing half its -men, scaled the top parapet of one of those lower forts across the -way, it gave out three rapid “Banzais.” Just that triple cry in the -early dawn, from troops drunk with victory and mad with fatigue, -is about the only evidence I have that the army possesses nerves. -It rings in my ears yet and will always ring there--a wild shriek -of samurai exultation floating out of the mist of the valley above -the voice of rifle and cannon. “The officers lost control for a -few minutes, but not for long,” explained a certain general to me -later, apologetically. He didn’t countenance such enthusiasm. War -is business here--the most superb game of chess ever played upon -the chequered board of the world. - -One thing that relieves the situation of much of the evident hurry -that once made war picturesque is the absence of the orderly. The -mounted officer, riding for life, dispatch in breast-pocket or -saddle bag, from the general to his brigadiers and his colonels, -is food for reminiscence. The telephone rang his knell. This -is the first time in history that the field telephone has come -successfully into extensive active use. General Nogi can sit in -his headquarters, four miles from Port Arthur, and speak with -every battery and every regiment lying within sight of the doomed -forts. Little bands of uniformed men, carrying bamboo poles and -light wire frames on transport carts, and armed with saws and -shovels, have intersected the peninsula with lines of instantaneous -communication. It is the twentieth century. Yet, as I walked over -the hills near the headquarters of the commander of artillery -yesterday, I saw, hanging from one of the bamboo poles and all -along a wire leading from it to the artillery commander’s tent, -strips of white cotton cloth called “goheis.” You can see the same -before all the Shinto shrines in Japan. They are offerings of -supplication to the spirits of the fathers. Some simple linesman, -garbed in khaki and wearing an electric belt, not content with -telephonic training, would thus guard his general. “Oh, ye who -have watched over Japan, in peril and in safety, from the age of -Jimmu, even to the present day,” he cries, “now, in a foreign land, -faithfully guard this, our talisman and signal!” - -I have said there are no sounds in the Japanese army. But there -are--a few. At night, from far back on the rear plain, comes -the monosyllabic sound of singing, several companies in unison, -interspersed with light laughter--nothing hilarious, nothing loud, -only an overflow of happy spirit into the night--never in the -daytime, always at night. The song is a long one by Fukishima, a -Major-General now in the north with Marshal Oyama, with a refrain: -“Nippon Caarte, Nippon Caarte; Rosen Marke-te.” (Russia defeated -is, Japan victorious.) The laughter comes from the game they play, -something like our fox and geese, an innocent sport with nothing -rough about it. Of late the Osacca band has been here, playing -for the generals at luncheon and for the convalescents in the -field hospitals, but very quiet music--The Geisha, some Misereres, -waltzes from Wang, and Sir Arthur Sullivan’s tunes. They avoid -the military, the dramatic, and the inspiriting. The music is -taken to soothe, just as their surgeons use opium when necessary. -How different from the Russian, of whom each regiment has a band -busy every day with the pomp and circumstance of conflict! One -day, a week before we came here, the Russians made a sortie into -the plain, parading for several hundred yards in front of the Two -Dragons. That was before the lines were as closely drawn as they -are now and the Japanese looked with amusement on the show-off. -At the head marched two bands, brassing a brilliant march. Then -came the colors flashing in the sun. The officers were dashingly -decorated, and the troops wore colored caps. It was a rare treat -for the Japanese, for they had never seen anything such as that in -their own army. Like a boy bewildered at the gay plumage of a bird -he might not otherwise catch, the simple and curious Japanese let -the foe vaingloriously march back into the town. So here they sit, -playing children’s games, to the chamber music of women, as gentle -as girls--but you should see them fight! - -The transport camps are sheltered by mountains so high and steep -that Russian shells cannot be fired at an angle to drop in behind -them. Through one of these nooks I came one morning, unable to -find the main road, and pushed among the horses. As I emerged at -the farther end a soldier rushed at me with a bayonet and slashed -at my legs. The bayonet was sheathed and I had a stout stick, so -no damage was done. I soon explained who I was. He sullenly let me -pass and his comrades began chaffing him. Some officers across the -ravine also laughed. I thought they were laughing at me. Almost any -human nature laughs at the foreigner. That was the first evidence -of violence and the first evidence of rudeness I had seen in the -Japanese soldier. I passed the day off in the regiment and, as -night fell, came back through the horses, where I went without -comment. Round a corner, out of sight of the camp I suddenly came -upon the same soldier apparently waiting to see me. I grasped -my stick tightly, but he was weaponless, and advanced smiling, -cigarette box in hand. He wanted to apologize and be friends. His -comrades had been laughing at him, not at me, and had taunted -him till he felt so ashamed of himself that unless I smoked with -him and returned for some tea he would never stand right with -them again. We had the tea and the whole mess joined in. That was -a private soldier--a hostler. The courtesy of the officers is -embarrassing, it is so continuous and exacting. Everywhere, from -general to private, it is real and delightful, especially toward -an American. I have heard many say that it is only a crust, that -underneath the Japanese is a devil and a dastard. But a very nice -crust. Let us enjoy it; as to the pie underneath, let the Russians -testify. - -For the essence of courtesy and thoughtfulness there is General -Nogi. James Ricalton and I went to call on him two days ago. He -spent half an hour with us at his headquarters in the village of -Luchufong, which is Chinese for Willow Tree Apartment. It is one of -the prettiest villages in the great plain, on the edge of a brook, -fringing the zone of fire. Everything shows seclusion and quiet, -though there is located the brain that directs these gigantic -operations, the girth of which Nogi alone comprehends. “Do you -understand the situation?” I asked weeks ago of Frederic Villiers, -the veteran English war artist, survivor of seventeen campaigns, -present ten years ago at the other fall of Port Arthur, and dean of -the war correspondents. - -“No,” said he, “I was at Plevna with the Russians, but that -was jackstraws to this game of go. I know nothing of go. Ask -the military attachés.” In turn I asked the different military -attachés--the German, French, English, Chilean, Spanish, Swedish, -and finally the young lieutenant here for the United States. They -all understood all about Port Arthur, but the trouble was, no two -knew it the same. So I went back to Villiers. “Nogi is the only man -that knows,” said he; “Nogi alone can tell you how the batteries -are placed, how the divisions and regiments are to be deployed -and played, what forts are the keys, what Russian batteries the -weakest, the reserve force, the commissary and hospital supplies.” - -So, naturally, coming to meet such a man we must have some awe, -some curiosity and some respect for the master strategist, -commander of the army which drove the Russians down the peninsula -and which holds it now in a death trap. We expected to meet a man -of iron, for Nogi is the General whose eldest son, a lieutenant in -the Second Army, was killed at Nanshan; who has under his command -a second son, a lieutenant, and who wrote home after the first -disaster: “Hold the funeral rites until Hoten and I return, when -you can bury three at once.” - -The General received us in his garden. He was at a small table, -under a willow, working with a magnifying glass over a map. He wore -an undress blue uniform with the three stars and three stripes of -a full general on the sleeve--no other decoration, though once -before I had seen him wearing the first class order of the Rising -Sun. His parchment-crinkled face, brown like chocolate with a -summer’s torrid suns, beamed kindly on us. His smile and manner -were fatherly. It was impossible to think that any complicated -problem troubled his mind. A resemblance in facial contour to -General Sherman arrested us. Lying near, in his hammock, was a -French novel. He reads both French and English, but does not trust -himself to speak in either. Miki Yamaguchi, Professor of languages -in the Nobles School, Tokyo, for seven years resident in America, -and graduate of the Wabash college, was the interpreter. - -“Look after your bodies,” the General said after greeting us. “I -was out to the firing line the other day and came back with a touch -of dysentery, so take warning. I do not want any of you to be sick. -At the first sign of danger consult our surgeons. We have good -surgeons.” - -“We are of little account, General,” said Ricalton, “but it is a -very serious thing for a man on whom the world’s eyes are centered -to have dysentery.” - -The General smiled. “I am quite well now,” he said; “but how old -are you?” he asked, looking at Ricalton’s gray hairs. They compared -ages. Ricalton proved to be three years the older. - -[Illustration: _From Stereograph, Copyright 1904, by Underwood & -Underwood, New York_ - -GENERAL BARON NOGI - -The photograph shows the Commander of the Third Imperial Japanese -Army studying the defenses of Port Arthur in his garden in the -Willow Tree Village, Manchuria] - -“The command of the army, then, belongs to me,” said Ricalton. “I’m -your senior.” - -“Ah,” said the General, “but then I should have to do your work -and I fear I could not do it as well as you do.” - -That night a huge hamper came to Ricalton’s tent in charge of the -headquarters orderly. It contained three huge bunches of Malaga -grapes, half a dozen Bartlett pears, a peck of fine snow apples, -and bore a card reading: “The General sends his compliments to his -senior in command.” - -“He is a great man,” said Ricalton, “who can so notice, in the -midst of colossal labors, a passing old photographer.” - -But, as Nogi goes, so go the other generals, and so goes the -army. Villiers and I went yesterday to call on a certain -Lieutenant-General who commands the most important third of the -forces. His division has borne the brunt of the fighting, and -he doesn’t live as Nogi does, on the edge of the zone of fire, -but close under the guns within a mile of the Russian forts, so -close that in his lookout two of his staff officers were recently -killed. His home is a dugout in the side of a mountain. It is large -enough for him to lie down in and turn over. He had a heavy white -blanket, a rubber pillow to be inflated with lung power, a fan, -an officer’s trunk that carries sixty pounds, and a small lantern -of oiled silk--this was his furniture, his complete outfit. On a -peg hung his sword, and outside, on the ground, lay his boots. Some -member of his staff had fixed up an iron bedstead and a water bowl, -but they were lying off at the side of the dugout, untouched. He -came to meet us in a thin pair of rubber slippers, his uniform a -bit worn, the string on his breast, where the order of the Rising -Sun is usually worn, barren, his eyes kindly, his manner fatherly -and his hospitality generous; he spread a lunch bountiful as Nogi’s. - -“I know the Russians,” said Villiers that night. “I was with them -all through the Russo-Turkish War. I remember Skoboleff, their -great cavalry leader, a magnificent type of man, a soldier to the -ground, but fiery, emotional, vivacious, vain, fond of orders, -jewels, wine and women, looking on war as a lark, dashing and -brilliant, the scourge of Europe! He was not this type of man--a -scientific chap, sober, full of business to the chin, no lugs to -him, and as unemotional as a fish. Kuropatkin was Skoboleff’s -Chief of Staff and you see what these fellows have done with him. -The day of cynical dash and reckless valor has gone by in war, my -boy. We are living in an age of modesty and gentleness, of science -and concentration; Japan is the master.” - -We lay under the searchlights, which were turning the night valley -into a noontide halo, as Villiers spoke. Every light came from -the Russian side, which lay wary and restless beyond us. From the -Japanese side came no light, no sound. All was secrecy and silence. -Yet we knew those hills were alive with toiling brown figures, -that a ten-mile line of rifle pits was guarded at every rod by a -sleepless soldier watching for the Rising Sun and that the tents -of those Generals blinked unceasingly with the steady glow of the -oiled silk lanterns, quivering cabalistically with ideographs. - -As I looked upon swaying and heavy searchlights, I could think only -of the Indian cobra and his mortal enemy, the mongoose. Silently, -rolled in a ball, alert for a fatal spring, the little mongoose -watches, and the hooded cobra swings ponderously, more nervous -with each move. All other enemies he can crush; none other he -fears; his body is murderous, his fangs deadly, his stealthy glide -noiseless and sure. How well he knows his power! Despot of the -jungle, why should he fear? And yet, since the world dawned his -tribe has done well to avoid the mongoose. - -Steadily swings the cobra; viciously he lunges. Now look! In the -folds of the cobra’s neck those incisive teeth, those death-dealing -claws! With the fury of whirlwinds lashes the cobra. With eternal -calm cling the teeth and claws. Hour after hour goes the unequal -struggle. The huge coils relax, the great head falls. Then the -beady eyes twinkle. The mongoose slips off in the darkness; prone -lies the cobra. Who sheds tears? - - - - -Chapter Three - -TWO PICTURES OF WAR--A GLANCE BACK - - -Tokyo, June 1st:--Who pays for the war? Here are a few telling -one another that they are the bankers. It is at a Sunday concert -in the fifth city of the world, a wilderness of sheds flimsy over -two million human beings. In the midst rise vast acres of country -solitude and rest. A tangle of cryptomeria and fir shade puzzled -paths winding through furse of elderberry and hawthorn. Haze and -vista spread away past hills and forests, past hothouses and -lawns of firm packed earth. A lake dimples a vale, as a smile the -cheek of a lovely woman, and its pebbly bed reflects the laughter -of the sun. About it fluttering flags, new and gay, festoon the -sentiment of all nations, one--Russia--excepted. Thousands, tens of -thousands, dot the paths, are merry with the lake, instill from the -greenery a quiet joy. Hundreds of voices, atune with instruments, -filter the fragrant air with music. Beyond the fence is squalor so -dense three sen a month pays for a dwelling; here is leisure so -luxurious the senses float in dreams. In a corner a moldy Diabutsu, -the calm of Nirvana on his face, nods on a leaf of lotus; “out of -the slime itself spotless the lotus grows.” - -Tokyo is beautiful--brunette and beautiful. This first day of June -she has risen past the cherry blossom, past the wistaria, through -the freshness of spring to the full radiance of summer. Pink, like -the fleece of clouds in the sky, and heliotrope, like the first -flush of sunrise, are past. Now green, rich and deep from a soil of -winnowed sustenance, mantles her in Oriental splendor--a splendor -simple and elegant with the wealth of the east, shadowy and sunny -with the blow of Japan. It folds her about with the assuring clasp -of a lover, and she responds with the shy, voluptuous acceptance of -a maid o’erwon. - -This is a summer of content, a dream of gayety, of insouciance. -A million babies gurgle with the baby glory of it. A million -mothers coo and coddle at the eternal freshness of it. But here, -to-day, in this wilderness of terraced garden, in this bouquet of -smiling East, have assembled the daintiest mothers in the land--the -peeresses. The son of one is a major-general. Others have captains, -colonels, aides-de-camp to tug their heartstrings with fear, to -inflate their pulses with pride. Have we not penetrated to the very -viscera of war’s nature when we find the mothers of its heroes thus -assembled? - -One of these mothers, a Princess, passes. Should she buy that -delicate lace and lingerie, so charming with all that’s feminine, -from boxes labeled and graded, she would choose misses’ sizes, -so tiny is she. A toy of a woman, demure and pretty; yet put -up by the finest of Parisian makers. The dotted mulle of her -veil sweeps slightly away, scallop-like, from a face thin with -aristocratic aquilinity. Behind that face, with wax complexion and -eyes of bead-like purity, scintillates a mind bred on intellectual -fashions. She speaks with the cultured English of Vassar. She knows -Omar Khayyam as well as any. The major-general is her son. Beside -her walks another son, his gold-rimmed spectacles completing a -fine picture of esthetic pride. His silk tie is the envy of every -Japanese not bred abroad, for his clothes are from Piccadilly. -The garden is full of these and such as these. They are giving a -concert for the relief fund. - -The music! It is the choicest that the sensuous imagination of -man has built out of rules and dreams. “William Tell” thunders -its diapason from the hid footholds of the earth. The audacious -march of Leroul spits out its song of triumph. “America” murmurs a -swelling hymn. A Weber overture sparkles, ascends, leaping crags, -whirling diaphanous gayety through cloud and shadow. - -Then a Japanese aria, weird with the rapt genius of the land, -molten with Malay poise, floats a mystery of ancient longing -through the broad day’s haze. It weaves through fir and -cryptomeria, assaults the hearts of thousands, and, triumphant, -storms the heavens; is lost in the faint sky, a sky blue with the -dreaminess Whistler would have etched in immortal phantasy. - -The Relief Fund gets fifty sen apiece from these peeresses with -Piccadilly sons, brothered by major-generals. And all other manner -of folk, down to the little sister, carrying on her back a future -soldier of the emperor, daughter of a rice cleaner in a three-sen -dwelling beyond the gate, thus while the pleasant hours away. - -On the heights of Tokyo they are paying for the war. - - * * * * * - -Here are the heights of Nanshan on the 27th of May. It is 5.20 -o’clock in the morning and seas of sunlight are hid in a fog across -Korea Bay. The fog lifts, and as the day bursts in along the -whole line the banner of the Rising Sun is planted on the Russian -ramparts of Kinchow. Since midnight the artillery of the third -division has been hammering from the right, off toward Talienwan. -At intervals the infantry of the first and fourth divisions charge -from the front whence they have been advancing for two days. It -is the second army of 60,000 Japanese and the investment of Port -Arthur has begun. The railway has long been cut. Now Kinchow is -taken and the Russians are helter-skelter Dalnyward. - -Here, then, is the theater, scene of such sublime assault and -conquest as the eye of history has not looked upon since Grant -stood on Orchard Knob and watched his thin blue line scale -Missionary Ridge; the hill of Nanshan, key to the advance on -Port Arthur. Turned in its lock Nanshan confronts the Japanese, -impregnable, ghastly grim in the fresh sunlight. We may well -pause to inspect the position. It rises, formidable, the height -of a church steeple, from a narrow plain. The edges of this -plain dip sheer down a hundred feet of slippery rock to the two -bays--Talienwan and Kinchow. From bay to bay is scarce three miles. -From Nanshan we may see, through a glass, the bay of Kinchow. -Riding on it are four of the enemy’s gunboats. Their shells are -flying over our heads. They have not yet found the range. To the -left in Talienwan, a Russian gunboat, guarding four transports, is -enfilading the third Japanese Division and supporting a regiment -of its own men flanking the base of the hill. The hill has been -cleared of underbrush and terraced, divided into four intervals -and on these intervals trenches built. One hundred and ten cannon -are there manned. At the bottom are barbed-wire fences, Spanish -trocha, not like the fences of a cow pasture, but dovetailed and -doubled so that if a man breaks through one he stumbles into the -oblique, bloody arms of another. - -This the Japanese are to assault before noon. There is no timber, -only a few bushes and rock the size of a bull’s head, hard things -to wade through, but no defense. They must cross the open plain, -500 yards, in full range of those one hundred and ten cannon, -smash the barbed wire, climb the terraced plateaus where they will -be picked off like rabbits in a shooting gallery, assault the -trenches and finally take the heights. To take one trench seems -heroic achievement, four an impossibility. Impossible but for -one thing--orders. The navy was ordered at the outset of the war -“to exterminate” the Russian fleet, this Second Army went out to -“take Port Arthur.” And they obey orders--these Japanese. So why -contemplate that to attempt that Hill of Nanshan is folly, to take -it madness? - -The Russians wait. All is silence--the awed hush preceding carnage, -terror, death. Waiting they sing, not light tunes heard so bright -and gay on the heights of Tokyo to-day; chansons of France, -Italy’s peerless compositions, America’s solemn new-born hymn or -Japan’s flute note weird and penetrating. From deep bass throats -and barytones majestic rolls organ music of fierce, wild grandeur, -as through some vast forest aisle the harmonies of winds and -woods and waves unite in mighty pæans, celebrating to the august -fastnesses glories yet fresh to man. Schools, traditions, customs -civilized have not touched the fiber of that central gauntness, -shining up through the spirit of the singers, like dreamland on a -tragedian’s afterglow. Siberia with all its wildness, with all its -immensity, where aback the mammoth wallowed; the Caucasus tossing -aloft primeval ecstasy the long slant of the steppes, and Russia, -bold, defiant, revengeful; all rolled in one, are in that note. -The clothes of the men are heavy, ungainly, ill-made, nothing -serviceable but the boots, which are well adapted for running away. -The faces--sodden with ignorance and vice--reflect only stolid -endurance; no initiative, no individuality. Only through the song -shines the soul. - -The singing ceases. There is a dreadful hush. It is eleven -o’clock. Off toward Kinchow, which is hid by a fringe of low -fir trees, something is moving. Soon hunchbacked dabs can be -seen bobbing across the furze, leaping over the stones, pausing, -searching, then onward dashing. The firing begins. Two machine -guns--only ten of the one hundred and ten are quick-firers--lead -off. You can easily tell them. The sound is little, like the -popping of a dozen beer bottles in quick succession. Then silence. -The strip of cartridges is torn aside, another inserted, again a -dozen pops. So it goes until the ten are brought into action and -there is no intermission. Flicks of dust are kicked up by the -shells, most falling short, a few passing on through the trees. One -of the bobbing dabs falls, the rest press on. Now the gunners are -getting the range; the shells pick off more hunchbacks. - -But there is no stop. This is not reconnoisance; it is battle. -The skirmishers deployed and well up, now the main line advances. -Out from the trees on a dog-trot springs a battalion. It is going -to try that griddle of death. The men dash valiantly on, agile -fellows, intense as fanatics. Now the hundred field cannon come -into play. Most are Chinese of ancient date, some are modern, -rim-firing. Smoke fills the plain. It is difficult to see. The -torrent of lead is on. Snatched through the noise of firing you -can hear great cries; they grow spasmodic, then cease. The firing -slows. Soon only the automatic pops are heard. The smoke drifts -off. The foremost man is there on the wire, gutted. He hangs, a -frightful mass, limp on the barbs. Here and there a poor fellow is -crawling, as you have seen some worm trodden on vainly seek its -hole. Not a man of the battalion has survived. A thousand brave, -faithful soldiers are gone. So this is civilized warfare! - -Yes. They now see it was folly to attempt the hill of Nanshan. So -they open up with artillery, a whole regiment of it, infinitely -superior to the sixty antiquated cannon, the forty Canet pieces -and the ten quick-firers. For an hour they rain that leaden taunt -back at dubious Nanshan, who austerely barks out a thin reply, -coughs a wheezy growl and ceases. Meanwhile the thousands in leash, -battle inflamed, recall that the dead battalion are Osacca men, -and, being merchants from the Japanese Chicago, had been hailed as -cowards by sons of samurai. A company of Osaccans went down, stuck, -like pigs, in the _Kinshu Maru_. But after Nanshan the pork packers -of Osacca will hold their heads decently high with the boldest. - -Toward three o’clock the second advance is ordered. Half the third -division and a part of the first, nearly 15,000 men, close in. They -get across the plain, dropping a few hundreds, and smash the wire. -Drunkenly dizzy, flaring with the lust of battle, the vanguard -tears clothes, limbs, and tosses on the treacherous barbs. - -They have no scissors, no choppers, no axes. Worse, they have -no time. They keep on at the fence, gashing shins, stripped of -impediments, down to the instincts and passions, all discipline -gone, every vestige of civilization lost. Now they are through, -half-naked, savage, yelling, even Japanese stoicism gone. Up to the -very muzzles of the first entrenchment they surge, waver and break -like the dash of angry waves against a rock-bound coast. It seems -no tide or wind can melt that precipitous front. But only seems. -A rest, a terrible breathing spell, the slow, wounded gasp of an -animal in pain, and again the intrepid Japanese lash their haggard -forms against that low trench. Glory! They win! The Rising Sun -glares in the afternoon as it greeted the sun of that morning above -Kinchow. - -Yet only a quarter of the battle is won. Another rest. Another -assault. Again and again they go up. Nine times they hammer away, -muskets to jowl, heads down like bulls in the ring, with one -thought; nay! not a thought, an instinct--to win or die. - -The officers are picked off by sharpshooters, as flies are -flicked from a molasses jug. Two colonels are killed, the list -of done captains swells. Then, through the haze, commanding the -first division, looms a prince of the blood, the general whose -peeress-mother is but this afternoon smiling serene on Tokyo -heights. He below Kinchow, smoke-stained, grimed with death, hears -the artillery report that ammunition is about gone, but one round -left and Nanshan still Russian. Defeat stares Prince-General in -the face. Retreat, disgrace seems right ahead. And orders were to -“take Port Arthur.” Smiling, he tells the gunners to wait. “Charge -again,” he says. - -So up they go, for the tenth and last time. At the top more -civilized warfare. Spottsylvania Court House was no more savage. -Japanese bayonets clash with Russian sabers. Bayonets struck from -hands they grasp knives carried suicidally in belts. Thus, hand -to hand, they grapple, sweat, bleed, shout, expire. The veneer of -centuries sloughed, as a snake his cast-off skin, they spit and -chew, claw and grip as their forefathers beyond the memory of man. - -The Prince-General waits, ready to fire his last round, and -retreat, hopeless. It has been a desperate fight--yes, reckless, -unparalleled. If lost he loses nobly. “Are you through, General?” -his aide asks. “I have just begun my part of the fighting,” he -answers. His name is Fushimi--remember it. As he speaks a weak cry -goes up--weak because even victory cannot rouse spirits so terribly -taxed. - -It was a bloody sun going down in Korea Bay that night, but it saw -its rising counterpart flaunting above Nanshan, while the Russians -were making use of the best part of their apparel, sprinting -towards the Tiger’s Tail. - -The cost! The fleeing ones left five hundred corpses in the four -trenches. The others paid seven times that price--killed and -wounded--to turn across the page of the world’s warfare that word -Nanshan, in company with two others, perhaps above them--Balaklava -and Missionary Ridge. - -Now who pays for this war? - - - - -Chapter Four - -THE JAPANESE KITCHENER - - -Headquarters, Third Imperial Army, Before Port Arthur, Oct. 12th: - -“Goddama’s here!” - -“Who?” - -“General Goddam--what’s his name?” - -“Kodama?” - -“That’s it. Who is he? They couldn’t do more for the -Emperor--special train, guard mounted, and all that. He came while -I was in the staff tent--a mite of a fellow in a huge coat.” - -Thus Villiers two weeks ago announced the advent to the army of the -Chief of the General Staff. Who is he? The soldiers know, for they -have a verse in their interminable war song: - - “On with Nippon, down with Russia - Is the badge of our belief; - The Son of Heaven sends us saké, - And Kodama sends us beef!” - -But who is he? A poor, unlettered samurai of the famous Censhu -clan who to-day, at fifty-two years of age, rules Japan and guides -her armies. Many will dispute this. They will tell you that the -illustrious Mutsuhito, member of the oldest dynasty in the world, -rules Japan. They believe that the Marshal Marquis Oyama and the -Marshal Marquis Yamagata, veteran spirits, great warriors, shrewd -in counsel, valorous in conflict, guide their armies. They forget, -perhaps they do not know, that Gentaro Kodama, whose rank is that -of Lieutenant-General, his title Baron, his position Assistant -Chief of the General Staff, thinks while the others sleep and works -while the others eat; that the “illustrious ones” may “guide” and -“rule.” People seldom know the boss behind the President, the power -behind the throne, or the advisor at the general’s ear. - -Most public men in Japan will tell you that Kodama is an unsafe -person of second-rate capacity. That is what the Directorate said -of Napoleon, it is what Halleck and his staff said of Grant, it is -what the Crown Prince said of Von Moltke. They will tell you that -his charge of the commissary and transport in the China war was -an accident. That is what the Directorate said of Napoleon after -Egypt, what Halleck said of Grant after Donelson and Henry, what -the Crown Prince said of Von Moltke before the Franco-Prussian war. - -The public men sent Kodama to Formosa to get rid of him, as -Napoleon was sent to Italy, as Grant was sent to Pittsburg Landing, -as Von Moltke was shipped from Metz. Kodama went and raised Formosa -from savagery to commerce and prosperity. He could have been Prime -Minister. “No,” he said. “I would rather pull strings than be one -of the strings to be pulled. Russia is peeking up over the border. -Let us prepare. Give me a desk in the War Office.” - -The public men shook hands, grateful that the unsafe upstart was -out of the way. Only soldiers and seers foresee war. Kodama is not -a seer. The public men reveled in peace and wondered occasionally -that Kodama should bury himself in that dry hole of a war office. -They were grateful because the unsafe upstart kept out of the way. - -Then the war came and what a scrimmage there was as the public men -scrambled for place! One had his finger on things; this only one -knew just where, when and how to strike. He alone knew where every -merchant steamer in Japan was and how quick each could be turned -into a transport. He alone knew the points in the Korean coast -where an army could be landed and how quick it could be gotten -there. Above all he had audacity--the audacity of genius. His name -was Gentaro Kodama, sometime military governor of Formosa, sometime -chief of the etape bureau. - -[Illustration: _From Stereograph, Copyright by H. C. White Co., N. -Y._ - -GENERAL BARON KODAMA - -The photograph shows the Chief of the Japanese Staff on his -doorstep.] - -How shameful for the upstart to command! He had never left his -native land. He spoke only Japanese. He had a most vulgar way -of pitching into things, of living on the tick of the watch, of -showing people in and out minus ceremony, of laughing as a boy -might at the things he liked and of frowning ingenuously at what -displeased him. More horrors! He scorned a frock coat for ordinary -wear and stuck to a kimono. Only upstarts defy the fashions. -Sometimes, however, the upstart happens to be a great man--a -Socrates barefoot, a Grant without his shoulder straps. Now -there were plenty of men who had been abroad, who could speak -French and English perfectly, who could crease their trousers and -who could add the proper dignity to a function. Besides, Kodama was -only a lieutenant-general, of whom the realm had a dozen others, -to say nothing of four full generals, two field marshals and an -emperor. Why should he run the war? - -But Yamagata and Oyama knew and the Emperor knew. They were too -keen not to see and they were too patriotic to let Japan suffer. -They could not give Kodama the place, but they crowned him with -power. So to-day he has the only coach on the Japanese end of the -Trans-Siberian railway and is the first to pass over the rebuilt -road from Liaoyang to within sight of Port Arthur. - -Yamagata stays in Tokyo, one foot in the grave, holding himself to -work with will and prayer, snowed with seventy years, in counsel -with the Emperor; Oyama, loved by the people, always a figurehead, -goes to command the northern armies, and Nogi is given the glory -of reducing the “Gibraltar of the East,” but Kodama, with his -hands on everything, the brains of all, unifies the whole. I saw -him leave Tokyo, cheered by the coolies of the streets, who, like -the Emperor and his marshals, know. Already the campaign was in -his hands. He went straight to Liaoyang and saw the first great -blow struck at Kuropatkin. Then he came here, stayed two days, -saw his plans being effected to his satisfaction and got back to -Liaoyang before the battle of the Shaho. It was on his way back, -during the day’s rest in Dalny, that I saw him for the second time, -when he granted me an interview, in which he made his first public -utterance. - -Certain names flash across an age as meteors across a sky. Cæsar -and Napoleon are such names to the student of history, Bernhardt -and Irving to the lover of the stage, Shakespeare to the man of -books. Their mere pronouncement has a mysterious power, some occult -influence to startle and make dumb. Like a searchlight’s flare they -throw one into a hopeless sense of insignificance and awe. So it -was with me, a student of the war, when Villiers uttered that word, -“Goddama,” two weeks ago. I recalled the months in Tokyo when we -stormed the war office in vain, how London, Washington and Berlin -brought their influences to bear, how the cabinet was assembled, -how the ministers pleaded that correspondents, creators of that -vast, indefinable power called “public opinion” have some rights. -Kodama said they had no rights; they might have privileges, but -no rights. One day a grave-faced official announced: “I am very -sorry, gentlemen, but you will have to wait the pleasure of General -Kodama. We have done all we could for you. The question now is, -shall the ministers or Kodama run the war? I much fear Kodama is -the man of the hour.” - -Thus the name rose over me as a symbol of power and hauteur. Three -days ago I started to Dalny from the front to lay in stores. There -was a four- or five-mile walk to Cho-ray-che, the field base where -acres are covered with rice and ammunition cases and where a -shattered Russian station is being used by the Japanese commissary. -On the siding lay the train of flat cars we were to take. In the -center was the first coach seen on the Liaotung since the battle of -Nanshan, May 26th. It was an ordinary Japanese third-class coach, -with paneled doors for each compartment, and hard seats. Out of -the corner chimney rose a whirl of smoke and it was easy to see -what an improvement even those hard seats would be over the tops of -ammunition cases where there was a three-hour ride to be made in -the face of a sleet Manchurian wind. - -“Back to civilization,” I cried. - -“Not for us,” said Gotoh, my interpreter. “That is General Kodama’s -coach. It was transported especially for him and he has just -brought it down from Liaoyang.” - -Then I saw him, with his salient, pointed chin, and his goatee like -a French noble, bent over an improvised table, scanning papers. -Five or six members of his staff gazed lazily out at a company -of soldiers doing fatigue duty with the empty ammunition cases, -swarming up over the track and back again, human ants. They had -heard the captain say the eyes of Kodama were upon them and they -worked feverishly, with rhythmical precision. The General never saw -them. His staff did, but he had work to do, and he knew the men -were doing theirs. - -As we lay shivering on that jolty ride into Dalny, day dying out -with bursts of grand color and night coming in to the orchestral -music of battle opening in our rear, Gotoh snuggled among the empty -cases at my feet, pulled his overcoat about his head, and hummed a -song composed by the biwa players of Kioto: - -“As a slender boat alone in a great storm,” it ran, “so Japan -sails the sea of modern civilization; does she not then need great -leaders for her forty million souls!” - -The mudflats of the bay were chocolate brown in late sunset as we -turned south and slid into the city, shivering, crouched low on the -pouches kept huge for bullets anon. Two kerosene lamps in the coach -and the sparks from the engine streaked the night as we tooted into -the revamped station of spruce and corrugated tin which stands -where the hole in the ground was out of which the Russians blew -their beautiful Byzantine architecture. We slipped to the ground, -cold, hungry, tired, and slouched under the two arc lights that -make Dalny a brilliant metropolis after our six weeks around camp -fires and tallow dips. - -Hurrying along I suddenly found myself in a group of officers -bound the same way. All but one instinctively fell back and left -me ahead with a tub of a man in a fur coat and a red cap with two -braid stripes which told him to be a lieutenant-general. Swathed -to his ankles in an overcoat of thick martens he looked huge, -but the two red braids and the star of Nippon were level with my -armpit. When he shook hands he lost all the clumsiness of the fur. -As his fingers grasped mine in real earnest there passed from them -the spirit of the island empire--its tininess, its audacity, its -febrile intensity--for the grip was sinuous and sure as the clasp -of a wild thing, hearty and elegant as a comrade’s. He walked with -the stately swing of a star actor, poised his cigar with the air -of a gentleman of leisure and smiled roguishly on me as he talked. -A word brought a thin man in spectacles--his secretary--from the -group behind. Through him the General said he had not seen a -foreigner in three months, he remembered me from a chance word over -a tiffin in the Shiba detached palace last May, and would I be kind -enough to call on him to-morrow when he would have a day of rest -before his trip north toward the Shaho. We parted at the first -corner and he walked on with his stately swing, which his enemies -call the strut of a turkey cock, his staff grouped artistically -behind. - -Dalny bristled with the military. The base now of all the armies, -it had become a huge supply depot through which passed the food and -ammunition for a third of a million men, and to which poured the -dribble of wounded. Every house in the Russian quarter, including -two magnificent churches and the fine hotel, were used for -hospitals, in which four thousand patients then were. A hospital -ship left every day for Japan, carrying from 200 to 1,000 wounded -and prisoners. Each day a transport came in bearing twice as many -fresh troops. A brigade had just landed and was to be sent north at -dawn to take the place of the lost in the Liaoyang battle. There -was no barrack room, and though the general wore a fur coat his men -stacked arms on the curbs and slept on the pavements. It was two -days after the arrival of the advance guard of the civic invasion -of Manchuria. Fifteen Tokyo and Osacca merchants had left home -with all their fortunes to try luck in a new land. In a Chinese -restaurant that night I met one of them, an old Tokyo friend who -spoke English. It was a great moment in his life, he said, this -parting with the old and taking on of the new. He had already been -given a house in the old Russian quarter at a nominal rental, -which he expected later to acquire from his government at a low -figure. In a few days he expected to open a store. He asked me to -call on him and gave me his card with an address in “Nogimachi.” -Thus I learned that all the town has been re-christened. The old -Russian names attached to the elegant streets which looked more -like roads among fashionable English villas were changed. Japanese -generals had been honored. The chief hospital was in Oyamamachi, -the etape office on Yamagatamachi, the reserve detail bivouacked on -Fukishimamachi and I slept on Kurokimachi. - -In Kodamamachi Gotoh and I the next day called on General Kodama, -who was living in the Russian Mayor’s house. In a side room where -the secretary ushered us we waited for the General, then in his -bath. This gave us time to examine the house. The Mayor was the -engineer who laid out Dalny, and, naturally, he spread himself on -his own home. Three stories high, with a wide balcony, a yard full -of flowers and a big brick fence, it looks out on the convergence -of the two main streets. It is built like the early palaces on what -is now Tar Flat in San Francisco, with casements two feet thick, -buttressed by solid masonry. The walls are thick enough to harbor -great Russian stoves and bear evidence to the coming cold. The -ceilings are enormously high, the double windows stained glass, the -balustrades massive, the flooring of matched hardwood polished, -all conveniences in the latest modern style. I know of no house -in all Japan so fine. The panels were scratched in places where -the Chinese bandits had sacked, and there was little furniture. -Otherwise, all was in good condition. In scorn of the place the -Japanese guard had slipped his neat, low futon into an alcove, -but in respect he stood at “present arms,” his rifle loaded, to -prevent outlawry. The silence was deep, the dispatch of business -swift. Occasionally a messenger passed through the hall, with no -hurry and with no dignity. It would have been difficult to persuade -Sherlock Holmes that the army was about. - -Presently the secretary announced that the General was ready, -and led us down a corridor to a side room on the west, which the -sunlight, falling through the stained windows, dyed purple and -gold. As we advanced I could not but think of the superb setting -Mansfield gave the throne room scene in “Richard III,” and how he -knelt by the dais as the light died out, whispering to himself, -“Richard, to thy work!” - -Here there was no false splendor, only the light of purple and -gold--and a great character. I felt his presence before he advanced -to meet me with a lithe stride. He shook hands with the intensity -of the night before and again I felt that clasp as of a palm all -sinew and nerves. But there was gayety in his gesture as he threw -his hands out, palms up, like a Frenchman, and bade me welcome. -He wore a kimono and slippers--nothing more. I could see the bare -V sloping in to his chest, thin and skin-drawn, and it was plain -where the brown of sun-tan shaded into the clothes-covered white. -He stepped back around a table and, dropping the slippers, climbed -into a great chair, against whose russet leather he nestled the -kimono and became lost, curling his bare toes under, whence, from -time to time, they peeked and wiggled. - -Overwhelmed by his littleness, for the swivel armchair could easily -have held three generals like him and have had room left, top and -bottom, for several colonels and a major, I thought of the huge -overcoat of the night before and remembered what Lincoln said to -Grant when the two met Alexander H. Stephens in a similar greatcoat -on the _River Queen_ in the fall of ’64: “That certainly is the -littlest ear out of the biggest shuck that ever I did see.” - -Gotoh and the General plunged into the labyrinths of the impossible -Japanese language and left me to the joy of studying the toes and -mustaches of this remarkable personality. He did not touch his -mustaches, which, though long, had none of the ordinary poise and -polish. No. They partook of the nature of the man and seemed the -superficial ganglia of his sensitive alertness. Three single hairs -from each side, twisted in a loose wisp, glimmed the air furiously -like the whiskers of a cat, as the General’s salient, pointed chin -chopped out the sentences. Then I noticed a phenomenon. While the -body of the mustache and the whiskers on one side were as black as -my coat, untouched by time, the right wisp was white with hoary -snow. It was as if the Genius of his time had selected him from -among the common race of men and touched him there. - -“The General wishes to apologize for receiving you this way--in -a kimono.” At last the interpreter spoke, after the two had been -chattering several minutes. Could it really be the great General -familiar with a mere man of words like Gotoh, so insinuating -the smile, so comradely the gossip? Yet, doubtless, in that few -minutes he got from Gotoh every pertinent rag of information the -interpreter had about me. “But he has been a long time without the -luxury of a good bath, and the Russian Mayor left a fine one----” - -“Tell the General,” I interrupted, “that he is the first man -I have met in six months who has given me the satisfaction -of appearing as he is. This is his finest tribute to Western -civilization--informality.” - -Then they went at it again--chattering. The General, thrusting his -elbows on the table, banged his chops into his palms, and, with -his eyes, pierced first me, then Gotoh, a roguish twinkle lighting -up his face for an instant to be replaced by the curl of irony on -his lips. Could this be the man of lightning decision, and of iron -will, who gave the order on February 8th to attack Port Arthur -before a declaration of war? I looked at his head, round and small -like a bullet, yet singularly long from nose bridge to dome. The -absence of excess tissue, skin stretched tight over parietal bones -and neck scrawny from spirited strain, together with a peculiar -atmosphere of concentration and mastery which invested him, said -it was as full of meat as an Edam cheese. Not a statesman, the -ministers say, but a giant of organization, a master of detail, the -brains of new Japan. - -Is he not also the greatest editor in the history of journalism? -Because it is he who for six months has cornered the news market of -the world, so that, until the present time, not a single authentic -account has come from the field except those issued in the official -reports of his own generals. He has controlled the news as he -has controlled the armies--noiselessly, perhaps clandestinely, -but nevertheless absolutely. If the telegraph announces Japanese -victories, he reasoned, the public will not listen to the wail of -the special correspondent. He has substituted fact for criticism, -and, like the Duke of Wellington, announces his victories first, -his reverses afterward. Now that the campaign is outlined and all -can see what he is driving at, the time for speech has come; so he -speaks. - -“You have seen Port Arthur. You may think it easy to take,” he went -on through Gotoh. I protested. - -“It is not easy,” he continued. “It is quite difficult to take.” - -“Of course--of course--thirty forts--ten years of -engineering--impregnable natural defenses--a stubborn army of great -fighters--clever officers to face----” - -“But----” he reached halfway across the table, not waiting for -Gotoh to tell him what I said, and I had no need of an interpreter -to know the five words he uttered: - -“I hold Port Arthur there!” I looked into the hollow of his hand, -twitching nervously, and saw the palm that is without bones, the -palm all nerves and sinew. - -“But where will the army winter? You are not building barracks. -You have only shelter tents, flimsy as paper, which the Manchurian -winds would laugh at.” - -“Do not worry. You shall winter inside. We will take it soon. I -hesitate to use the big guns for fear of hurting noncombatants.” - -Then the tea came, via a soldier whose shoulder straps bearing the -figure 9 showed him to be one of the few survivors of the famous -9th regiment, which lost 94 per cent. of its men in repeated -unsuccessful assaults on the Cock’s Comb forts during the three -days battle from August 21st to 23d, and I saw that Kodama, like -Nogi, rewards the heroism of private soldiers by relieving them -from duty on the firing line and giving them honorable work as body -servants. - -The General fondled his tea, delicious in a lacquered cup; Giokuro -it was, the best Japan grows, and bits of the leaf glittered in the -bottom like particles of steel. The steam curled about his face. -He lit a cigar, puffed vigorously, and smoke wreathed with steam. -Through the haze his whiskers, twisted in a loose wisp, bobbed -spasmodically as his pointed chin spat out the sentences. He pulled -himself further together, tying his legs acrobatically, and made -room in the great chair for still another general. I wondered if he -would disappear entirely, wizard-like, in a cloud of smoke. Then I -thought of that criminal condemned to capital punishment, executed -in experiment by the tea expert, who drank and drank until he -shriveled and shrunk to powdery fiber. Plainly Giokuro, Havana and -hot baths had helped hard work in drying up this tiny great man. - -“We can’t tell what damage the big guns will do,” went on the -aspirate voice out of the smoke. Gotoh was turning over the -sentences now as fast as they came. “This is the first time in -history that coast defense guns have battled with each other. We -have brought ours from Japan. As the Russians cannot use theirs -against our navy they have turned them landward.” - -“Why not against your navy?” - -“Because--” he quickly drew from a drawer a brass tube attached -to a pot of India ink. Out of the tube he drew a brush and began -sketching nervously on a piece of blotting paper. The brass tube -was a yatate, the first one I have seen in the army. Generations -before siege artillery Japanese warriors who took arrow holders -from the enemy disgraced them by converting them into ink pots and -brush holders, for to soil a thing with business in those days was -to disgrace it. But merchants found the device a neat invention -and made arrow holders in miniature. The idea spread and soon all -the men of business in the empire carried yatates in their belts. -The army discarded them in disgust. Now Kodama comes, oblivious of -tradition, satisfying his caprice and comfort, and to his work, as -a samurai of old, introduces the yatate. When he finds the samurai -superstition concerning the gaining of eternal life by a soldier -killed in battle of value in his chess game of war he cherishes the -belief, but when the silly prejudice against business gets in his -way he cuts acquaintance with the samurai. - -Quickly, under the yatate brush, there grew a sketch of Port Arthur -and the peninsula--curves for the east and west harbor, a cross -for the town, fuzz for Liaotishan, a loop for the Tiger’s Tail. -Then from east to west of the Liaotung he drew a dotted line in a -semicircle and paralleled it with another dotted line. - -“Our mines,” he said, pointing to the outer; “their mines,” -pointing to the inner. “We have laid a series of electric mines -counter to theirs, which, if firing at, they explode, will ignite -their series and damage their coast defenses and harbor. Locked in -this mutual mining our navy and their coast defense must remain -inactive, as neither cares to take an initiative. So they have -turned not only their coast defense, but their navy guns landward. -We, in reply, have landed our navy guns and brought from Japan -our coast defense artillery. So you will see the spectacle of two -great naval equipments fighting on land. I wish I could bring all -the tacticians in the world to witness. There will be much to -learn for future warfare.” He puffed vigorously. The whiskers -poised themselves. His eyes, looking at the sketch, were lost in -introspection. He was reveling in the situation. - -“You think it, then, a battle of strategists?” - -“Only that. This is entirely a game of strategy. The chief question -is: are our naval and siege guns, reinforced by field artillery, -more powerful than their naval and coast defenses reinforcing the -forts? Lesser questions concern the individual generalship of -divisions and brigades.” - -“But the boy in khaki--is he not the deciding force?” My mind ran -back to those terrible August days when I lay in the broiling sun -watching the soldiers hurled against the barbed wire, under the -machine guns, onto the parapets, only to melt away like chaff -before the wind. I thought of the night in the storm when the -general in command gave the order to retreat, but before his -aide could deliver it to the colonel in the field, the soldiers, -impatient, went in and took the opposing trenches. I thought of -all the sights in that mighty game I had just left; great guns in -the shock of battle peppered by shrapnel but holding to their -work like bulldogs on the grip, the sappers creeping with pick and -shovel through the night hounded by shells, the pioneers going up -with pincers to nip the wire met by the death sprinkle of Maxims, -the infantry in a thin brown line following, the men popped out -as expert drivers flick off flies with a whiplash, but advancing, -advancing, till a handful out of a host creeps up, and flings -itself, fanatical with the lust of battle, worn in the gory charge -so that life never can be the same again in sweetness and in peace, -into the redoubt paid for a dozen times with blood, and which even -then is but curtain raiser for drama still more heartrending, -because, beyond, rising tier on tier, series after series, are -redoubts and forts, trenches and barbed wire, moats and gorges, -rifles and cannon until the soul grows sick with the thought that -Port Arthur must be bought with sacrifice so great, agony so -monstrous. - -“No,” said Kodama. “This is a question of military strategy.” He -thrust the yatate from him, stretched back into his chair and -puffed cigar wreathings into the air. They looked like the smoke of -a volley from a battery of howitzers. As he settled down to the -talk again, sometimes his eyes flashing, sometimes his mustaches, -one black, the other white with a venerable sign, twitching, his -bare toes twisting with suppressed energy, I thought I saw a huge -black spider serene in the Russian chair. - -“Will you bring any more reserves?” - -“No. We have an army large enough to take Port Arthur. The enemy -has about 20,000 men, we about 60,000. Three to one makes the -odds about even when you consider the defenses. More men are not -necessary. It is not a question of men now, but of ammunition and -generalship.” - -“How about food? It has been reported that you let junks and even -transports run the blockade, that you won’t starve them out, but -want the glory of forcing them to surrender?” - -His eyes snapped as he answered: “That is absolutely false. We have -them entirely hemmed in and maintain a perfect blockade.” - -“Do you find the forts stronger than you expected?” - -“They are very well built--on the Belgian model, I believe. They -are like the forts on the Belgian frontier where the lay is -similar. Toward the sea side they are iron plated, but toward us -there is only earth, with some concrete and masonry. It is the -arrangement that puzzles us. A very clever engineer must have -devised them, for we find an absolute change from the Chinese war -of ten years ago when we took Port Arthur in a day. Then, one fort, -Issusan, taken the others fell. That was the key to the position. -Now, one cannot say that any single fort is the key. All are so -arranged we must take them in detail. The capture of one means -only the capture of an individual fort, not of a series as in the -old days. Study as we may we find it difficult to minimize their -strength. They have even carried the fortifications to such an -extent that the sea escarpments jut over and they bathe there with -ease and safety.” - -He looked so cosy in his kimono, redolent of the bath, that I -ventured: “You envy them, then. Aha! This is the secret of Japanese -persistence. The Russians have such a fine place to bathe.” - -He gurgled and continued: “We began yesterday to shell with our new -guns--the Osacca mortars. It will be most interesting to watch -their effect on the earth forts.” - -The General paused. It was time to go. We had taken the better part -of an hour from him. We rose. He slipped from the chair, tickled -his toes into his slippers, and threw his shoulders back jauntily, -giving himself the air that a little man does unconsciously when a -sense of the physical is borne in upon him. - -Then I felt that creepy clasp as of a boneless hand. When I closed -the door he crept back to his perch. So I left him, noiseless -leader of forty millions, swathed in the great Russian chair, lost -in the Mayor’s Byzantine house, withered to essence like a tea leaf. - -And his salary is the same as that of a congressman of the United -States. - - - - -Chapter Five - -CAMP - - -Before Port Arthur, Headquarters Third Imperial Army, Oct. 9th: We -have left the mountain--the Phœnix--where by day we saw artillery -duels and by night flashes of lightning illumining the big guns, -while the plains stood out under the searchlights. There we could -step from our lunch table and, down the cliff, look into the -upturned ecstasy of a victorious army, or feel the dull weight of -its despair surge in and close upon us. - -Now we are with the army, part of it. From the Manchurian hut, -where we live in insect powder, on tinned beef, biscuit and jam, -we go a few rods to a plateau and look into Port Arthur. The path -of the army can be traced by beer bottles--Asahi, Yebisu, Kabuta -and Saporo--but in all the army there is not a guardhouse. If the -company has a man who doesn’t smoke cigarettes he is pointed out -as a curiosity; the empty boxes--Peacock, Tokiwa, Pinhead, Old -Rip, Cherry and Star--dot the fields thick as the beer bottles; -the price of a box is two days’ pay; there is no way to have money -sent from Japan to the front, but a field savings bank to take it -back; and yet, into this field bank, from the three cents a day -pay, in spite of the beer and the cigarettes, over $10,000 has gone -since the opening of the campaign. Approach a battery and find a -lot of uncouth boys, gentle and friendly as children, curious as -savages, as lacking in assertion as a comedian off the stage; you -take them for menials, for most Americans in such a place would -carry mountains of dignity and be covered with placards, “hands -off.” These are expert gunners, handling scientific instruments, -and yet simple. Generals the same! It is an unaccountable thing, -this naturalness and modesty, like the morality of a man of genius. -A paradox? Yes; when you think of what fighters they are! But how -does a hen know when to turn her eggs, and where does a girl carry -her powder puff? - -But to us, of whom there are three--Frederic Villiers, the war -artist, James Ricalton, the war photographer, and myself. The -public knows about Villiers, hero of Plevna and the Soudan, -discoverer of artistic Abyssinia, decorated by seven governments, -veteran of seventeen campaigns, dean of the war correspondents, -who has traveled the world round lecturing, sketching, writing. -The public knows less of Ricalton, one of its obscure great men. -He has gone through a long life with his nose to his work, like a -dog to a scent, heedless of fame and money. He is original, alone, -and has done things no other man has done. It was he that Thomas -A. Edison sent into all the tropical jungles twenty years ago to -search for a vegetable fiber for the electric lamp. He took most -of the photographs for John H. Stoddard’s lectures. He was the -first foreigner to walk through northern Russia, 1,500 miles from -Archangel to St. Petersburg. He has traveled through every country -on the globe, exposing 75,000 negatives, and has photographed most -of the great men of his generation. Of late years he has become -one of the most expert of war photographers. In the Philippines -he was the only man to get troops actually firing on the foe. At -the battle of Caloocan a soldier near him was winged; Ricalton -picked up the useless rifle, grabbed the cartridge belt and went -up with the skirmishers. At the siege of Tien Tsin he stood on the -walls and photographed Americans as they were dropped by Chinese -bullets. Little the public knows when it sees photographs of war -how few of them come from the front. Ricalton is one of the few -who gets the real thing. He is sixty years old, yet he tramps ten -and twenty miles a day with a thirty-pound camera under his arm, -for he sneers at the snap shot and will carry a tripod. Yet he -outlasts the young men on the march. Here he goes everywhere--into -captured forts while the corpses are still about, through the most -dangerous artillery positions, among reserves waiting for battle, -into the actual fighting if they would let him. To-day he is off to -gratify one of his few remaining ambitions, for he is sighing like -Alexander at already exhausting the world. He wants to get one of -the new siege shells, 500 weight, as it leaves the gun on its trip -to the battleships in the bay. Four of these shells were dropped -yesterday into the _Retvizan_ and _Pallada_. To-day the gunners -will try to put in another. Ricalton plans to have his camera all -set and tilted at the proper angle behind. Then as the gunner -pulls the lanyard he presses the bulb. He has stuffed his ears -with cotton so the shock will not break the drums, for a gunner -yesterday was deafened for life. He will probably be hurled to -the ground and his camera may be smashed, but he wants that shell -hurtling through the air, no bigger than a bee, while the dust of -the recoil curls up over the emplacement and all the grand tensity -of power and motion is about the place. - -“Why take the risk?” say I, “when you can so easily take the gun -at rest and then paint in a little dust and that wee dot up in the -air.” - -[Illustration: BO-O-OM! - -Discharge of the Japanese 11-inch Mortar during the Grand -Bombardment of October 29. The gun is a mile and a half away, and -is firing into the Two Dragon Redoubt. The vibration made a clear -photograph impossible.] - -“But it wouldn’t be the real thing,” said he, as he started off. -Then I saw why he is Ricalton and not some faker at his ease over -a chemical tray in the city. Just now, looking out of the window -under which I write, I can see the battery where he has gone. It -lies snug among the hills, two great guns cocked on concrete and -flanked by howitzers aloft on peaks. The Russians have the range -and are pumping shells in, two or three a minute. It looks as if -nothing could live there, but I know that probably not a man is -injured, for I was there yesterday and saw how safe the dugouts -are. Villiers looks up from his sketching and watches the firing -through his glasses. A ten-incher plunges into the hillside and the -earth boils up as if the foundations were ripped away. - -“I hope dear old Ricalton is out of that,” he exclaims. - -“Don’t fear for him. He has gone through too much to be rapped by -that,” I reply. I remember how he walked there yesterday, his eye -always on a dodgehole. A ten-incher came just as this one to-day. -He threw himself flat on his stomach, hugging his machine, tenderly -as though it were a baby, in a ditch by the roadside. Ten yards off -the shell exploded. The pieces flew over and clods of earth fell on -him. Hardly had the pieces stopped before he was up and after them, -for he is as great a curio hunter as he is a photographer, and he -has a house in Maplewood, New Jersey, converted into a museum, -which the natural history experts declare is the finest private -collection in America. But enough of Ricalton. - -Along a deeply rutted road in front of our village we gaze in awe -at the big guns and their accouterment spread beside a narrow-gauge -track. A pile of empty shells with points like needles and thick -as a telephone pole, so heavy two men can hardly lift one, lies -scattered down the slopes. A recoil vamp lumbers a truck. An -ungainly steel thing nestles belly deep in the sand while a company -of human ants sweats and wrestles with it. Then suddenly we come -upon the beautiful breech, delicate as clockwork, dazzling as a -jeweler’s case, gleaming in the sun, and Ricalton exclaims: - -“The only thing that gives one respect for man--his achievement--is -to look at such a piece of mechanism. It has the power of a jungle -of elephants, yet is as sensitive as a little girl!” - -Some days we take trips off to the various divisions and get close -in for a big battle, feel the pitch and pallor of war, see heights -assaulted, won and lost, hear the adventure of conflict from heroic -mouths and get in close upon the red anathema. Then we visit the -hospitals and know the slow agony of it--the suffering, endurance, -silent sacrifice. Two weeks ago I saw the same operation that was -performed on President McKinley--laparotomy. A soldier’s stomach -was pierced, as McKinley’s was. The surgeons took it out, sewed it -up and replaced it. To-day I was told the man would recover. He is -a strong, hardy chap, a peasant boy, who lives on rice, fish and -tea, which was not McKinley’s diet. The soldier at the same time -lost his right arm by amputation. Visiting him again yesterday I -asked how he was getting on. - -“Well enough,” he replied. “The hard thing is not to think about -it. You’re all right if you only don’t think. It’s the mind that -rips one up, sir, the doctor says.” - -Our village shelters most of the impedimenta that an army -headquarters must carry. Band-musicians are our neighbors. The -interpreters, next door, swap tea, cigarettes and news with us. -The Russian interpreter, who lived in Moscow three years, sketches -so well, Villiers says he will take him to Paris and make him the -fashion. Behind us are the Japanese correspondents, so clandestine -in their ways that even a Manchurian farmer must know they are -yellow journal reporters. Of a morning we see a curious pair -strolling off over the hills, one with a fowling-piece, looking for -snipe, the other with a camera watching for a chance to get a shell -as it explodes. One is Mr. Arriga, the expert on international law, -who will adjudicate all property rights as soon as Port Arthur -falls; the other is the official photographer. - -Then there are the war correspondents, who have a camp three miles -off. In bargaining for junks to take the news out, two of the cable -men have become so bitter in rivalry that they go around with -Mauser pistols, each threatening to shoot the other if he tells how -the censor was evaded. There is the Norwegian nobleman with the -eyes of a viking who is writing serials for one of Harmsworth’s -London dailies. Finally, there is what Villiers calls “The Bartlett -pair”--A. Bascom Bartlett, Esq., son of the Hon. E. Bascom -Bartlett, M. P., who came out to see the fun and what Villiers -calls the Tossup, because it was a toss-up whether or not he should -come, and who is here to make fun. It was he, who recently, after -hearing a general tell of the desperate charge of a brigade, -patted the officer on the back and said: “A very noble act, sir. I -shall relate that in Tossup Hall.” - -The elder Tossup is a country brewer in Yorkshire. The younger -insists that he is an officer and a gentleman and knows how to -conduct himself. But a few days ago he was caught, while visiting -an outpost with an officer, in a crossfire, and ducked into a -trench. The officer tried to reassure him by following into the -trench. There, while a battle was raging beyond, and in the -presence of all the sublime panorama that surrounds us here the -Tossup said: “I hope you will come and visit me in England. We will -go to the autumn maneuvers.” - -The officer, not expert with English, pulled out his dictionary and -ran his thumb down the “ma’s.” “man--man--manur” he read. “Ah,” -he cried at last, “the autumn manuring! I see, sir, yours is an -agricultural country.” - - - - -Chapter Six - -203-METER HILL - - -What Blaine’s unfortunate “three R’s” were to his Presidential -campaign “203-Meter Hill” was to the siege of Port Arthur. Risen to -the dignity of key to the situation, it had, in an ordnance sense, -little to do with the case. It was but one of seven advance posts -for final assault. A pimple of progress to the engineer, it was -not permanently fortified, did not belong to the primary scheme of -defense, and was dominated by three of the finest forts--Etzeshan, -Anzushan, and Liaotishan: mountains of the Chair, the Table, and -the Lion’s Mane. For three reasons heavy guns could not be mounted -there. First, the cost in energy and life would be too vast, -because rifles whose barrels alone weigh from two to eight tons -each would have to be hauled by hand up 680 feet of rock, a task -heroic even in peace. In war, wedged among three magnificently -intrenched hostile positions, this would be impossible. Second, -even if these heavy guns--only of any value against forts or -fleets--had been gotten there, they would have been pounded to -pieces within an hour of arrival by the more numerous and better -emplaced artillery of the Chair, the Table, and the Lion’s Mane. -Finally, heavy guns are never emplaced on mountain peaks in an -offensive campaign. - -“203” had one value--a great one. It was the best point of -observation the Japanese had yet had. Line of vision, not line of -fire, was what they needed. From “203” they could look into all -portions of the harbor that could float a warship, but, what was -more essential, they could look around the promontory of Golden -Hill into the cove, where the hunted remnant of the Russian fleet -had been hiding, at loose anchor, since the disastrous attempt to -escape on August 10th. They had no need for better artillery posts -than the positions which they had held for four months and from -which they had been able to place shells in any spot on the Russian -side. - -[Illustration: - - _Copyright, 1905, by Collier’s Weekly_ - -THE HYPOSCOPE - -Showing Lieutenant Oda looking from 203-Meter Hill through the -hyposcope at the Russian fleet in the New Harbor of Port Arthur] - -“Any spot,” that is, if they knew where the spot was. To locate -the spot had been the difficulty. “203” gave the line of vision, -but it was so wedged in among commanding batteries that its value -depended upon an instrument new to warfare--the hyposcope. This -is merely a telescope cut in half--the front half elevated above -the other, like the head of an ostrich above the body, and the two -connected by a further length of scope. In the joints thus formed -mirrors are placed. Thus a view of the interior of Port Arthur was -brought over the topmost trench of “203” to the eyes and brain of -the Japanese lookout, protected there by the rocks. Through the -hyposcope a lookout could observe the effect of every shot from his -own batteries, located not on “203” or anywhere near “203,” but -distant, most of them, two or three miles. While he operated the -hyposcope with his left hand, with his right he held to his ear -the receiver of a telephone connected directly with each of these -firing batteries. These batteries were emplaced, not on mountain -peaks, not on the front of the mountain range from which their -operations were being directed, but entirely behind this range, -which was parallel to the coast range, forming the permanent -line of Russian defense. From these points, scattered in the rear -of the Japanese position, distant from the Russians, the nearest -half a mile, the farthest three miles, the work of the bombardment -went on. The firing was what the military man calls “high angle” or -“plunging”; that is, the shell traveled in the line of a parabola -over two mountain ranges, which separated the Japanese batteries -from the Russian ships. The gunners never had a sight of what they -were firing at, the officers in command of the batteries never had -a sight of what they were firing at. Only the lookout on “203” -knew where the shells went, and he got his knowledge through a -mirror. This knowledge was used by the artillery officer, who found -the range by means of a quadrant. The hyposcope, the telephone, -the quadrant--these were the scientific ganglia that wiped the -mountains from the map of the Liaotung Peninsula, and brought the -operations, in the mind’s eye, to the level of a billiard table. -“203” was the cushion needed for successful caroming. It would be -useless to lug heavy guns up there; the hyposcope was carried up, -but not artillery. - -Dispatches have said that the capture of “203” gave the besiegers -command of the town. Such dispatches concerning other captured -positions were published repeatedly. Their effect was to keep -the world continuously expecting the fall of Port Arthur. Let it -once be comprehended that none of the positions captured up to -December 15th was permanent, that none was a part of the grand -scheme of defense perfected by the Russians through the past seven -years; that there still remained seventeen primary and twenty-five -secondary positions on the land side in addition to the finest -forts which are on the sea side, and it will be apparent that this -expectation was not, until General Stoessel decided that further -resistance was useless, justified by the actual conditions. - -Commanding the town meant little. The Japanese navy put shells into -the town on the 8th of February, and had been able to put them in -ever since; the army put them in on the 11th of August, and had -been qualified for destruction ever since. They wanted to save the -town. They looked upon it as their property. Why smash up what they -would have to rebuild? The fleet had been their chief objective. -Though inert for four months, it was a menace until sunk; that -out of the way, they need not worry. Of course their shells had -searched about for arsenals and storehouses; if the town got in the -way of the search--well, so much the worse for the town, but the -Japanese effort had been to save their own. It was not Port Arthur, -but Stoessel and his forts, that Nogi was after, just as it was not -Richmond, but Lee and his army, that Grant was after. - -As for the strategic position, no one can say that any one fort -at Port Arthur is the key. Nature assisted expert engineers in -devising those forts. All are so arranged that each is commanded -by two or three, and, in some cases, by a dozen others; thus when -one was taken it drew Russian fire from its fellows until it became -untenable. Such was the situation at “203-Meter Hill.” The Japanese -had driven the Russians out, but they were unable to mount guns of -large caliber there, or do aught but locate a farther station from -which to direct final assaults. Ten years ago, when the Japanese -took Port Arthur from the Chinese in a day, one fort, Etzeshan, -taken, the others fell. That was the key. To-day no single fort is -so important. “203” is dominated by the Table fort, the Table fort -by the Chair fort, the Chair fort by Golden Hill, and Golden Hill -by the Lion’s Mane. And after all this was taken, there would still -remain the east forts. Yet, the capture of “203” was decisive. On -September 19th, the Japanese lost two thousand men in trying to -take it. The attempt failed. The division with the job in hand sat -down, waited, and worked. Two months and a half of sapping, and one -day of assault, on December 4th, turned the trick. Though it did -not mean the fall of Port Arthur, it meant the beginning of the -end. This for the reason that every contraction in the Russian line -meant a gain in Japanese strength. The smaller the circumference -the less the capacity for resistance. And, after all, the physical -fact of the fall was simply a question of mathematics. The loss -of life appalls, the spectacle attracts, the glory inthralls, but -the intellect, backed by whatever impulse it is that gives man -resolution for the supreme sacrifice, commands. A chessboard and -two master minds--such was Port Arthur, Nogi, and Stoessel. The -checking move was made as long ago as May 26th, when the battle of -Nanshan was fought. The fate of Port Arthur was sealed then just as -it was sealed again when “203” was taken. - -Let us look at that September assault on “203,” of which the one in -December was but a repetition, and glimpse what it meant to storm -Port Arthur. Could all the bloody story of the siege be told, “203” -would be forgotten, a detail lost in vista, swamped in gigantic -operations, veiled in the mist of vast sacrifices. Yet the mind, -puny as it is, must grasp an incident and cling tight, as a poet to -the fringe of metaphor, for comprehension even distant. - -Passing from the rear of the army to the front, you might realize -something of the tricky skill used to move those pawns over that -vast chessboard. To the eye of an eagle all would have been -invisible. The sum of his sight would have been a tongue of land -making faces at the sea, ridged with deep blotches from whose -recesses thin pricks of smoke slipped to the crack and roar of -great guns. - -Yet lively work was seen. Close to the right rear was the first -battery, a six-gun emplacement of field four point sevens. At one -o’clock in the afternoon the telephone rang, the lieutenant in -command called, and instantly the redoubt swarmed with figures -that sprang like ants from the earth. Busy as ants, they answered -the order from brigade headquarters for the signal shot to open -the grand bombardment. They had come from their bomb-proofs, into -which they would dodge again as soon as the shot was fired. There -was much pride in the chief gunner as he took a cartridge from its -bomb-proof shell chest, ran to his gun, threw open the cordite -chamber, pulled out the breech block, rammed in the shell, snapped -the block, and stepped back to signal the lanyard man; more pride -than is usual in the Japanese gunner, a timid, simple being, -dexterously handling his delicate instrument with as little vanity -as he would handle a potato hoe. - -Hurrying on the road to escape the shock, and looking back, the -battery was invisible. The bewilderment of the eagle, if told that -danger lurked there, would be overwhelming. A shell spat out, -revealing the battery behind a mass of earth forming a natural -redoubt. This was in a narrow valley with only a small range of -foothills between it and the sea, a place later called “The Valley -of the Shadow of Death.” Behind every mountain shoulder, and up -every gorge, firing high angle over the eminence in front, was -a battery nestled in its redoubt, with bomb-proofs for the men -and bomb-proofs for the ammunition. It was hardly a valley, but -a ravine, barren of grass, a torrential place through which, in -spring, huge rains tore. Soon other rain--red rain, powdery and -leaden--was to pour there. - -Directly in front, out of the west, loomed “203,” flanked by its -gigantic brothers, granite-tossed, the Chair and the Table and the -Lion’s Mane. Bone of the world’s vertebræ, Russia had capped them -with science and determination. Their cordoned batteries, cunning -and intricate, spoke not a word in reply to the Japanese taunts -hurled in upon them, savage and vain. Why reply? They knew their -strength. Before “203” lay a height down on the map, like the -disputed key itself, under figures to denote in meters its reach -skyward; “176” they call it, lacking more intimate speech, but the -soldiers quickly dubbed the hill “Namicoyama,” for they saw its -resemblance to a flying fish abundant in these waters, called by -us the trepang, by Japanese the namico. The mongers of Kamikura, -after disemboweling, inflate this fish for hanging lamps. There -it lay--the namico--its slopes spread finwise, its two peaks, -furze-capped, rising above the mists of the valley as incandescents -struggle through the fog of the night. Ringed with barbed wire was -each peak and close about the top were lines of loopholed rock. -As the following step of a stair, “203” rose beyond, fortified -likewise. From the nearer peak the tardy glint of the sun caught -the brass muzzles of two cannon. From the farther, down the slope, -ran a trench continued to the sea. - -The battle was on. Before the Russian outlook knew it the Japanese -advance was at the base of Namicoyama. Each man was stripped to -his khaki uniform, his cartridge belt and his rifle. Four hundred -rounds of ammunition were in the four leather boxes at his belt, -and in his hip pocket was a ration, dubbed with a soldier laugh, -“iron”--three hard biscuits with a piece of salt fish the size of -his palm. - -Up they went cautiously, a squad of twenty at a time, slinking -along the ravines, their rifle-butts dragging the ground; one file -of twenty, then another and another, until the slopes were dotted -with figures colored like the earth--silent, nimble, tiny. - -Now the artillery was at it heavily. Beginning with the battery we -had seen go into action, the pieces spoke up, one by one, until -near a hundred guns were spitting fire from the nooks behind; -astonishing to an eagle, but the Russians seemed not to mind. -The shots increased, the din augmented. A shell appeals to the -imagination--snarls like a wild beast, flings fierce shrieks into -unwilling ears, rends tooth and claw at fear. The place might have -been a nest of demons with the old devil hen hatching them out. -The Japanese kept those two ridges so hot with shrapnel that not -a man dared show himself. For twenty yards below the parapet the -slope bubbled as does a pot boiling above the kettle’s brim. Not a -sound from the nearer Russians. From Anzushan, from Etzeshan, from -“203,” and even from far-off Liaotishan the replies spoke distant -and absurd, but Namicoyama, slated for assault, was silent, silent -as though no brass cannon were mounted in the sight of all men, as -though no twenty companies of sharpshooters were lying low with -Maxims and repeating rifles waiting to receive the final charge. -Were there cowardly Japanese it was a secret shared by no man with -his neighbor. Sound to the core or not, they went on with the -precision of a clock. As the infantry advanced, occasionally a -huddled figure, inert, was grouped here and there with others who -moaned piteously. At times a squad, sinking, would lose itself in -a hollow, only to climb presently up the opposite slope, there to -sink on one knee, rifles at fixed bayonets, while the lieutenant -in command reconnoitered to right or left, searching for the line -of best deploy. Then on, skurrying another few rods, to another -halt, until they came to the precipitous rocks up which it seemed -a goat would have skinned his shins in climbing. Here, hugging the -mountain proper, having lost but few, considering the advance made, -they waited for night. - -Meanwhile, aloft, hell reigned. Shells constantly bursting -apparently shattered guns and killed gunners, but when the dust -cleared all was instantly life again, the gnomish figures -busy--busy as ants with eggs. For a minute thus, then all would -drop back into the earth simultaneously with the reply, and at the -very moment that another Russian shell was in upon them. - -Was it the same beyond in Namicoyama and in “203”? Doubtless the -Russians were as safe, though with them the shells must have -been multiplied by twenties, because the space of a few rods, -lying exposed to every range, received the constant fire of every -Japanese gun. The Russians had a wider target, a range of hills -from which occasionally they could see smoke curling upward. It was -far more difficult to hit than the Japanese target, for nothing -was plain, all was guesswork. The Russians could not see a thing -they were aiming at. A range of hills, seared with autumn, bare -of husbandmen, innocent of apparent defense, alive with hissing -venom, confronted them. They lashed it desperately as they could, -frantically as a boy beset with nightmare. The little men had a -plain target, parapets outlined against the sky, trenches clear and -distinct. Yet the Japanese were often covered with dust from bursts -on the slope beyond, and through the Valley of the Shadow the -diabolic screeches mounted with the dying of day. Night came with -the wild clamor on in full fury, the little brown squads still at -the base of Namicoyama, the reserves creeping around toward “203.” - -Could they climb it--that six hundred feet of almost perpendicular -rock, where, in daytime, with sticks and hobnailed boots, the -best of mountain climbers would have found an adventure? And -they must go up dragging rifles, shrapnel dropping among them, -shells bursting overhead, bullets mowing them down, not to rest at -the top, but, once there, to plunge against troops well rested, -superbly intrenched. - -The reserves threw up shelter tents and staked down the flaps with -heavy rocks, but the wind, howling across from the inlet, flung -them to the laugh of the rising equinoctial. Some sought rest on -bean straw, under blankets, the September moon streaming in, but -there was no rest. - -A flash in the eyes and the mountain is thrown into a silhouette of -fire, then plunged into blackness. From the extreme Russian left -the searchlights are wheeling into position, one by one, until the -whole seven are out, playing day over the battlefield, throwing -suspicious investigation into the little squads of brown. Science -has intensified war. Formerly men could get their fill of fighting -by day, but now they needs must flare the candle at both ends. Like -Joshua, these generals are deciding their empires’ fates under -light of their own ordering. - -The second searchlight comes out of the right. In between, -the others dance, now a minuet, now a tarantella. Then a red -line streaks the air, parabola-like, and its end breaks into -molten balls, illumining the Valley of the Shadow of Death as -by candelabra of stars. Its path is crossed by another. Still a -third leaps into life till the night is frightful with fireworks. -Processions peaceful and gay have danced through the cities to such -salvoes fostered by Pain. You have seen them on Coney Island, you -have watched for them on Manhattan Beach, you have romped through -merry summer nights canopied by their dazzle; you have seen them -split into golden bursts and rain diamonds of child joy; but do not -wish to see them bred by the Russians, grisly and deadly, laying -bare every joint of action and throwing into ghastly relief every -hope of surprise. - -A growl among the mountains rolls into power, and a naval shell -from our left has burst in “203.” The forts respond, the mountains -reply. The small arms open up, the machine guns rattle, the pompoms -clatter in. Pitch, fuzz, dingle and pop are drowned. Crash, roar, -hurtle and boom are out. The devil is loose. - -A clatter on the stones below comes nearer, steadily, rhythmically. -Listen! The tread of soldiers marching! Soon an indistinct line -wavers into sight. A low whistle and it turns square across the -Valley of the Shadow toward that terrible din. Another whistle and -it twists up from single to double file. Each man has his full -kit on his back, an extra pair of hobnailed boots, the pick, the -shovel, the rifle. The steel is hooded with brass caps, a challenge -to the dew. Officers’ swords, sheathed in dull cloth, defy the -glitter of sunlight and of searchlight. It is the reserve regiment -advancing to reinforce at dawn. Company by company it passes, and -at the end marches the gray-haired colonel, stumbling in the dark, -peering off at the searchlights, blinking at their bravado. The -troops enfile into the farther ravine and deploy by battalions. The -din lessens not. So another grist is fed into the mill of war. - -The reserves’ echo dies to the incoming of crunches on the stones -as of a wagon lumbering--a heavy wagon. Then out of the mists -a caisson rolls behind six horses, the mounts walking, calmly, -slowly. Another caisson and another, then the guns--one, two, -three, four, five, six in all--while overhead whistles the shot and -beyond gleams the searchlight. The rear battery is going forward, -past the front battery, almost to the base of Namicoyama, where, -at a sixty-degree angle, it can reinforce the infantry as the sun -comes up. - -Sleep is fitful when blaze is flirting with blackness and sentries -with death. Long before light the trench guards on the front ridge -are waiting for the big guns to salute the morn. The fire has -slackened. There is fair quiet. When one has heard the wild gabble -of a thousand guns he is _blasé_ before the chatter of a dozen. -Down the Valley of the Shadow a shell sometimes wings a nasty way -and the searchlights hold vigil, but the infantry sleeps. - -Then a little light fades the immense shadows, and soon over -the rim of the world peers a new day. Peace, beauty, tingling -health--this for another moment--when off to the right a shell -wheezes. The snap is touched. The army wakes. Again it is on--the -fearful din, the unendurable bombardment. So it has been for two -months; so it will be until the end. Again and again. - -But what is that under the crest of Namicoyama where it rises, -furze covered, its incandescent struggle fighting fog? A patch of -brown, then a patch of blue, then a flag--yes, a flag--a white -flag, with a red sun in the center, the most legible flag in the -Volapük of bunting, the Rising Sun of Japan! - -In the night they have done it because they have slipped the thongs -of civilization and risen triumphant to the hold of rice paddy and -sacred mountain. What they did was simple--they changed shoes; -rather, they threw away shoes. If one asks how the Japanese took -“203” the answer is in terms of feet. - -Such heights had been attacked before with scant success. Boots, -though the nails be hobbed, help no man trained as the chamois -to nature’s aid. Yet boots were all they had. The government in -flirting with the ways of white men recognized nothing but leather -and thread as proper footgear for Mikado worshipers. But that -was before “203.” Here, at last, the soldiers knew more than the -officials of state. They knew enough to toss aside a weapon made -for pavement fighting when they went against precipice and moss. -Reduced to essentials, fighting for life, they forgot the ambitious -new ways. Instead of boots they tied on their feet waraji, the -Japanese straw sandal. Having none of proper make, they improvised -from the rough rice sacking brought by the commissary. Since then -the government has been compelled to officially supply waraji. - -Barefooted, but for the tight cling of the straw, hid from the -searchlights by the shadows of Namicoyama and “203,” in the night -they had climbed the heights and are now waiting the introduction -of Mr. Bombshell before they reel audaciously across the parapet. - -The brown is khaki-covered men, the blue those with overcoats. Far -down at the lower left is a gray-haired figure standing apart--the -colonel. He makes no effort to shield himself. The artillery of two -armies have concentrated their fire above his head. That is their -business, no concern of his, so he hazily observes the unfurling of -day beyond the Tiger’s Tail as he would dwell upon the empurpling -of a convolvulus. At Nanshan he led the victorious charge. Three -bullets went through his coat and two through his hat. He wears -Shinto emblems and believes he was not born to be killed in battle. -He has been in forty-seven engagements without a wound. His name is -Tereda, and he commands the first regiment of the first division; -in rank but a lieutenant-colonel, his colonel slain May 26th. - -Shrapnel begins bursting above. The Russians are far from sleep, -farther from death. It being high time for business, the white -flag with the red sun in the center waves once to the left, once -to the right, and twice to the front. It is the artillery signal. -Again the ridge falls under the terrific fire of the day before. -But this time the infantry is 150 yards nearer, and this 150 yards -is in a direction similar to that pursued by a telephone lineman -when he follows his calling. The men crouch low, their own shells -bursting less than fifty yards above them. - -The introduction is long. The Russians are saucy hosts. They parley -and talk back with their big guns, and that bluster of the day -before is repeated. All day long Tereda and his men emulate the -furze, for when they take the fort they want night handy to help -them intrench, to give them a bit of cover despite the searchlights -and star bombs. Besides, one climb of that sort is enough for -twenty-four hours. They must have the cumulation of another -twenty-four for the final charge. Yet it is costly recuperation. -Blood spurts frequently. Wounded wilt under the sun, the dead lie -untouched. - -At half-past four in the afternoon Tereda orders the final charge. -Three cheers go up--Banzai! Banzai! Banzai! With bayonets fixed the -squads deploying as before, the khaki-covered spots begin to move. -In advance the men crawl hand over hand, helped by blessed waraji. -Twenty feet from the parapet they pause and fling something that -leaps through the air like balls from catcher to second base. -These hand grenades of gun-cotton explode on and in the parapet, -introduction more intimate. The brilliant bursts play off the fast -settling evening as the khaki-covered ones go in, Tereda pausing -and peering with his glass. The entire battalion tumbles over the -parapet. Then the reserves begin climbing from the base. - -Silence. All is over. What has happened? Five, ten minutes pass, -then the firing recommences, but now the object is changed; all the -Japanese shrapnel is playing over the road leading to the Chair -fort and all the Russian fire is directed against Namicoyama. The -Russians are retreating, throwing their rifles as they run. Over -Namicoyama floats the white flag with the red sun in the center. - -Two hours later a fat old man with a heavy beard and baggy -trousers is brought in--a prisoner. An officer, originally in -the commissary, he had been called into the line, business being -dull in his department. He commanded six companies on Namicoyama. -Wounded in the arm and sullen, he has no greeting for us. - -“The pigs,” he cried; “I stood at the end of the trench with my -pistol ready to shoot every bolter, but it was no use. The beasts! -Ah, my poor Russia.” - -He had a son in a Siberian regiment shot four days previously -before his eyes. For a year he had had no word from his wife and -two younger children in the Trans-Baikal, but he was well fed. -Bearded, tanned, deep-eyed, he loomed with dignity and might above -his captors. There was no consoling him. - -“The beasts,” he cried, “papa disowns them. Why didn’t I use the -pistol?” - -There was plenty of flour and small-arm ammunition over there, he -said. The troops were in good morale, but needed bucking up by the -officers. What could be done for him? - -“Nothing,” he replied. “My boy is dead, my wife, my children, where -are they? And Russia, ah, Russia, where is she!” - -To him Port Arthur had fallen. - - - - -Chapter Seven - -A SON OF THE SOIL - - -Headquarters Third Imperial Army, Before Port Arthur, Oct. 9th: -Often we dine with the Army’s leaders. To-day all the temporary -occupants of the headquarters village, which include the human -impedimenta of an army, such as the expert on international law, -the official photographer and the correspondents, were called to -the General’s house. My invitation read: - - “Sir: I am desired by General Baron Nogi to write to you, and - tell you, with his compliments, that he will be happy if you will - favor him with your company at tiffin on Sunday, the 9th inst., - at one o’clock. He wishes to become well acquainted with you by - having chit-chats. I have the honor to be, sir, - - “Your Obedient Servant, - - “Y. YOSHIOKA, Major Aide-de-Camp: - - “By Order.” - -We went. There were some long tables peppered with aluminum ware, -fruit and wine under the pear trees of a Manchurian back yard. -We stood up to the cold luncheon, partly foreign, partly native, -charmingly served by soldiers. There was a crowd of dignitaries -distinguished by uniforms. They were of all ranks, from the three -stars and three stripes of the General of the forces to the single -star and stripe of the sub-lieutenant, who is commissary adjutant. -But it was not an affair of dress, so out of the crowd rose two -personalities who burned themselves into my consciousness, where -they hang yet, resplendent in energy. There was about them a -native dignity, a primal force, that indefinable something that -distinguishes great men. - -One wore a pair of yellow boots and might have stepped from an -American fashion plate. There was American vitality and freshness -in him, too. He dispensed with ceremony, spoke keenly, decisively, -almost brusquely, and looked you square in the eye with a twinkle -that said he appreciated all the social gayety and yet kept back -his own opinion. He had a square jaw, thick neck, broad shoulders, -massive palms and a head long from chin to crown--all unusual -for a Japanese. This was Major Yamaoka, the _parliamentaire_ who -recently rode into Port Arthur with the Emperor’s offer of safety -to noncombatants. He is one of General Nogi’s most trusted aides, -a popular orator, a man of decision. He walks like a thoroughbred. -Had Cæsar seen Major Yamaoka walk across that Manchurian garden he -would surely have put him on his staff. - -The other wore a pair of Pomeranian top boots, elegant and -serviceable as Yamaoka’s were fresh and hardy. They were pulled -snugly over his knees to keep out the bitter Manchurian wind. Above -were a pair of white kersey breeches, spectacular as Napoleon’s. -He was fond of rising on the toes of these boots and writhing -sinuously in them, like an acrobat testing, as he responded to -a toast or applauded the music and fun. Everything about him -indicated the strong man of action--the tensity of his muscles, -the flex of his waist, the sure set of his heels, the poise of his -head, the ease and power of his bearing, his well-knit mouth, his -regular, beautiful teeth, the clarity of his eyes, the sincerity -of his smile, even the straight, tough fiber of his hair. In -physique the opposite of Yamaoka, for he is five feet nine in -height, exceedingly tall for a Japanese, slender, and with delicate -hands, the two yet have the same vivacity and shrewdness, the same -kindliness touched with hauteur. But the second man is chief of the -army, not only in rank, for it was General Nogi, but in worth as -well. His mastery was easily felt to-day. He stands at the pinnacle -of a wonderful career and the world’s eyes center on him. How -handsome he was--and how simple and friendly, how easily pleased, -how innately courteous! Is he not also that ideal philosopher whom -the Roman Emperor Aurelius wrote about as bethinking him always -of his enemy’s comfort? I asked him how he would like to exchange -places with General Stoessel. - -“I think often of General Stoessel,” he replied. “To be frank I -think of him every day. When I go to bed at night and when I get -up in the morning, and often between times I wonder about him, how -hard his position must be, and how well he defends it, and if he -is really injured as we have heard. Sometimes I put myself in his -place and imagine what I should do. Then I try to think that some -day I might be in just his position. And so I fight the battles all -over again from his side and from mine.” - -“Does it teach you much?” - -The General laughed heartily. “We have learned much from the -Russians. I am always pointing them out to my soldiers as model -fighters.” He took from the ground a pick whose handle had been -splintered by a shell, evidently found on the battlefield. Both -nose and heel had been worn half away, rounded with dullness and -rust. It was not like the Japanese picks, which are small and -short-handled. - -“I assembled all the battalion commanders a few days ago,” he -continued, “and showed them this pick as an object lesson. It has -turned over many a hundred weight of earth and shows how expert -the Russians are at trench-making. Our soldiers do not like to dig -trenches. Many of them are of gentle blood and think it is coolie -work. Besides, they say: ‘We are going forward in the morning. Why -dig trenches to-night?’ The Russians have taught us tactics, too.” - -Here Villiers interrupted. “Men who, like the Russians, build -trenches so they must show themselves on the skyline to shoot can’t -teach tactics,” he said. The talk slid on to the bonzais, mutual -promises to dine together next in Port Arthur, and au revoirs. - -But I started to write of the Manchurian. He knows not, neither -does he learn. Yet you can scarcely ask who let down that shaggy -jaw and who sloped that head away, for he has a magnificent, -strong, clean jaw and his head is handsome and high. That he bathes -only once a year and cares not who owns the land so long as he -tills it; and that his wife and daughter sit on the stone fence -of his donkey stable picking the lice from one another’s heads, -doubtless has nothing to do with the question propounded by our -sociological poet. - -Nor is the Manchurian uncivilized. He has, indeed, reached quite -a state of development, for he is the abject slave of fashion--at -least his wife and daughter are. They bandage their feet until -where a No. 8 boot should go they wear baby 6’s. This, I dare -say, is a less harmful fashion than that other silly one of -corsets, for surely the organs beneath a shoe lace are not so -vital as those under a waistband, but it looks sillier. To see -women in the harvest fields, by the roadside washing clothing, -cleaning the donkey stable, baking bread, spanking boys, suckling -babies, attending husbands, all the time balancing themselves as -a _première danseuse_ on her toes, is to think of stake and rack! -They say that this is not real Manchuria, that up North, where -the other army is, the women do not bind their feet. The present -Dowager Empress of China, considered by many the most remarkable -living woman, is a native of northern Manchuria. In all this vast -country the women are noted for modesty and virtue. Ten years -ago, during the China-Japan War, many committed suicide to escape -expected ravishment. But it was well learned then that the Japanese -never outrage a woman. An incident of such atrocity by Japanese, in -either war, has yet to be recorded. It is said that the Russians -are different, though it is difficult to see how any Westerner -could look with more than curiosity on a Manchu woman. Certain -it is that they go about their lives here in complete freedom and -security. Not only do the Japanese respect women; they respect -property also. Here is a fertile country with rich crops sustaining -a vast army, yet no farmer has lost a bushel of grain, except when -the chance of battle has substituted shot for scythe. - -[Illustration: ORPHANS - -Driven from home by shells which killed their father and mother, -these brothers tramped from camp to camp selling eggs.] - -A son of the soil is the Manchurian, but not a friend of nature, -with whom he wars valiantly for his daily bread. He fights terrible -suns in summer and ghastly winds in winter. When the winds and -snows drive out the flies that eat him up, the lice come in until -the sun and flies can have another turn. So can you blame him -for being a money grabber? He thinks only of this season’s maize -crop and of next spring’s plowing. Whether the Russians or the -Japanese or the Chinese rule the land is much the same to him. He -will put his tax into the Governor’s coffer and go on with his -toil. Why should he bother? He remembers that Confucius was born -on the Liaotung and that Confucius taught to resist no violence -and remember the fathers. Consequently he fills the country with -tombstones and babes while other men fill it with war and nameless -graves. Over in the valley is a granite monolith erected in the -memory of one who honored his father and mother. A Russian shell -has struck it in the pit of the stomach and Japanese bullets have -shattered its back. - -Patriotism? No. But he has his religion and it is this: to remember -the fathers and owe no man. - -Recently the master of our house went out with us for a day to -carry supplies. A stray shell passed over us, perhaps twenty feet -above. We all ducked, but as soon as the coolie recovered he ran. -We called him, for we were without other help. He kept running. We -sent a soldier. The coolie came back grudgingly. Finally we gave -him a yen. But he shook the yen impudently in our faces, and fell -back simulating death, crying out: “Coolie dead, yen no good.” - -He should be used to danger now. His neighbors are. The shells -and bullets are to them what blowsnakes and mosquitoes are to an -American country district. To-day I saw children playing among -corn stubble while three shells burst within a hundred yards. The -children did not look up. For three months the Russians were in the -land; now for three months the Japanese have been in the land. For -three months the Manchurian nonchalantly carried Russian wounded -into Port Arthur and buried Russian dead by the roadside for fifty -kopeks a day. For three months he has nonchalantly carried Japanese -wounded into Dalny and buried Japanese dead in the fields for fifty -sen a day. What concern is it of his which survivor he gives up sen -and kopek to afterwards? - - - - -Chapter Eight - -THE BLOODY ANGLE - - -General Nogi’s Headquarters Before Port Arthur, Oct. 22d: To-day -we went to the Eternal Dragon, and looked in on the bloody angle. -D’Adda was with me--the Marquis Lorenzo D’Adda of Rome, naval -expert, military engineer, designer of the _Niishin_ and _Kasuga_, -which, even now, on clear days, our spyglasses can discern held in -leash, ten miles off, by Togo. - -Yesterday, from the Phœnix, D’Adda looked on the fortress--its two -mountain ranges, its stone wall, its chain of twenty forts, its -concrete glaces, its barbed wire morass, its artillery pregnant -with repose, its infantry hideous with secret might--and said: - -“Eemposseebl! Eet ees eemposseebl--absolutelee. Zee Japonaise -can nevaire take. Eet ees stronger zan Sevastopol--stronger zan -Gibraltar--absolutelee.” - -To-day, from the foot of the Dragon, he looked down into a plain -lost to the husbandman who bears on his arm no red cross, yet -furrowed far deeper with vast and terrible furrows, its creased and -aching joints curled into the glaring sun. Up, he looked under the -muzzles of Russian cannon, useless now that the plain they were -wont to fill with dead is lost to them. - -“Extraordinaire--colossal!” he cried. “Port Art--eet will be one -smoke puff zee nex attac.” - -We had left the siege parallels and were climbing into the fort, -our backs bent low so that no Russian sharpshooter might give -his government cause to decorate the forgotten names of two -noncombatants. We had wormed our way, zigzag, a mile and a half -through the valley along a trench that a division might foot with -equal safety, four abreast. Lives precious, toil enormous, and -brains cunning and quick had hid their army from the enemy as -prairie dogs hide their spring litters. A clever attaché with the -Boers had shown how they who learned the tricks from the Kafirs, -hid vulnerable turnings with maize stalks. Another, schooled with -D’Adda in the arts that Julius Cæsar taught the legions in Gaul -and which have not been improved on to this day, had outlined the -most economic angles of advance, had shown how to take advantage of -every gully, how to hide behind every terrace tuft, how to cross -sodded planks above at equal distances until the way resembled the -weave of an Indian basket. All of this that we had passed was but a -sixth of the work of one division, of which the army holds three. -And it has been done in less than two months. - -The Marquis continued to exclaim that since the invention of -gunpowder there has been no such engineering. “I know zee historee -well,” he said, “veree well. I know Plevna, Sevastopol, Dantzig, -Paris, Vicksburg, Metz, Ladysmith. Zay are no-thing. Port Art--eet -ees zee greatest. Zee world cannot comprehend.” - -Halfway back we had passed a Chinese village, shattered by shells, -blackened by smoke, its tumbling walls utilized for the trench. -Earthen wine pots had been filled with shale and placed on the -sandbags to deceive the gunners beyond. Two days before there was -rain and in one part the trench was filled with muddy water. We -had to pick our way on submerged stones and planks. As I hurried -along, looking at my feet, I noticed that the water grew dull red -as though the wine pots above had burst. At that moment I stumbled -and caught the wall for steadiness. My hand struck something -flabby. I drew it back in horror and found sticking to the palm -a white piece of flesh dented with convolutions--a bit of human -brain. A pace away he lay, his feet toward me. A stray shell had -blown him off from brain base to nose bridge. He was still warm and -the officer called back shrilly for a soldier to come with pick and -shovel. Then we took notice of the shells bursting, some five miles -off, some a thousand yards away. This had happened within the hour. - -As we came closer to the Dragon a stretcher was borne down by two -red cross men. A bullet had picked a private through a peephole. -Just ahead of us two soldiers were walking, one with his full -kit, rifle and shovel on his back, the other bareheaded and -barebacked. Both wore on their sleeves the two yellow stripes of -the distinguished soldier. The finger of the one who was to go was -held by the hand of the one who was to stay. Neither spoke. They -walked silently and slowly in the full sunlight. He of the full kit -was ordered into the thirty-minute trench to take the place of the -one who had passed out on the stretcher. He, too, is almost sure -to pass, ere long, the same way. As the two comrades walked toward -the place of death I saw how true Dickens is, for it was precisely -thus--finger in palm--that he sent Sydney Carton and the seamstress -to _la guillotine_ in “The Tale of Two Cities”; the one who was to -go clasping the finger of the one who was to stay, the one who was -to stay looking with kind, brave strength calmly into the face of -the one who was to go. - -“Ah! Tragique!” cried D’Adda. - -The officer said we might one at a time go into the front trench. -I started. It was a short climb over shale and debris of sundered -shells and of a sudden I hobbled into a hollow space, girt with -bags and silent, silent as is the place of execution the morning -of capital punishment. It was the redoubt, thrust into the air -like the maw of a dragon. The sun beat in beautiful and sure. The -rocks, with deadly glare, spat up their challenge. An occasional -bullet sang as a ripsaw tears through a pine knot. Then a machine -gun rattled and the shale beyond pattered. I was carried back to -a boiler factory and an automatic riveter. Of all war sounds that -of the machine gun is least poetic, is the most deadly; it has the -ring of business. - -Silence, blankness, death. At first I could see no life, but the -officer spoke a low word--here all words are whispers as they are -beside the couches of those about to leave this world--and four -spots on the wall that had seemed monotonous and brown as the shale -moved. Four simple, peasant faces with the star of Nippon above -looked at me. Then one, attracted by something beyond, suddenly -kneeled, seized the rifle beside him, leveled it through a chink -and pulled the trigger. That deadly rip sawed its knot. - -Boldened by the presence of soldiers kneeling as I was, I began -to look around. A groan, first aspirate, then low, as of an -asthmatic man snoring, brought my eyes across the bag-protected -dragon’s mouth and I saw two figures kneeling above a third. -Presently the two lifted the third into a stretcher and filed -past me with it. I saw a face blood-dabbed, the lips piteously -moving. A bandage across the eyes saved me the worst. The officer -beckoned for me to peek through the farther hole. The incident -was but a bit of the day’s work for him. I followed and saw a -shattered field glass under the parapet. It told the story. He -was--had been--a non-commissioned officer in charge of the sentry -squad and was looking across at the Russians when a sharpshooter -spotted the glass. I felt that I was hurt more than he, for I lay -awake thinking of it much of that night, only to remember that -the surgeon-general had told me that a man shot through the brain -is instantly unconscious, though his lips move and he moans for -minutes. - -“Each day--how many?” I asked the officer. - -“Twenty.” - -“And how many days?” - -“Fifty-nine.” - -“How many to take the fort?” - -“Four thousand six hundred and fifty-three.” - -“With each night a battle to resist a sortie?” - -“Yes. Each night a sortie, each night a battle.” - -“Thus--by night--how many to hold this awful place?” - -“Since the beginning? Perhaps a regiment, perhaps a few more.” - -He motioned me to the corner hole--the hole through which a -minute before the bullet had sped into the officer’s eye. I -emulated neither bullet nor officer, but at a respectful two -feet glimpsed a ridge ghastly and glimmering in the sun like any -other ridge in this hell hole. Quite near enough to reach in a -short dash--200 yards, the officer said--a row of sandbags were -backed business-like toward me. Between us were five heaps of blue -clothes, four in a huddle and one a bit off--Russian dead killed -in the battle of Hatchimakiyama four days ago in the zone where -nothing lives. Grass withers there. Vermin alone germinate. - -Behind those sandbags and behind these men crouch and have crouched -every minute for two months hunting game the most lordly and the -most cunning, the most deceitful and the most contemptible, the -boldest and the fiercest, the most inspired and the most depraved -this earth can boast. - -The Russians on three sides held us in a vise. The bottom of the -crater was paved with empty cartridge shells and bullets flattened -on the rocks. Constantly more knots were being ripped by the saw -above. Except for that rasp--a rasp that bore in with crescendic -violence on the nerves--the silence was profound. Life was -everywhere--intelligence at the keenest pitch, ingenuity the most -diabolical, agility the most intense, sacrifice heroic, daring, -sublime--but not a sound, not a motion. Everywhere the silence -kept--the unendurable silence of the Eternal Dragon. Its insatiable -maw thrust up there in the ghastly sunlight, drenched in blood, yet -cried for more. - -[Illustration: HUMAN BARNACLES - -Clinging to the bases of the forts, like barnacles to a ship, -these sturdy Japanese existed in miserable quarters throughout the -summer, fall and half the winter.] - -Sick with the thought that through this bloody angle, bought at so -dear a cost, held at so terrible a price, there must yet be fought -the supreme fight that will eventually reduce the citadel I turned -to go. At the top of the downward trench I paused, kneeling, where -three soldiers stood with rifles waiting to relieve the sentry on -duty. Down through the plain swept the ten-mile front of the -two armies--the might of Russia and the might of Japan, locked -in a struggle so desperate there was no sound but the asthmatic -wheeze of the ripsaw buzzing above. It was very close to the -other world--yet the resources of two empires centered there, the -heartthrobs of great people, raging like the wind in from two seas, -swept it all into a typhoon of gore and grief. - -I felt my hand clasped by a palm moist and gentle with feeling, -friendly with comradeship. The eyes I looked into were not those -of a beast of prey. They were quite pleasant eyes, even lovable. -The face was touched with soil. I could see it came from the rice -paddies, yet it had sympathy, and pity, and much capacity for -happiness. Was there not also capacity for suffering? The low -word came and he went off, food for powder. Will he be one of the -twenty? The sun was quite as devilish as ever in the Dragon’s maw -as he stepped into it. As I scrambled into safety I saw him propped -against the wall, his rifle against a chink, his cheek to the -breech, “sniping.” It was a salute and an appeal that he pressed -into my hand, a reproach and a challenge. I was a white man, he a -yellow, and he was killing white. What difference was there between -us? Could I not also have found friends two hundred yards farther -on? Still the ripsaw buzzed the knots. Again the machine gun -rattled, without poetry, business-like and deadly. - -“Tragique!” whispered D’Adda, as he came back from the same journey -and sat beside me. “Zis ees zee focal point--most eentense, most -sublime. Perhaps here Port Art will be taken--and by surprise. I -know zee historee. I study Plevna, Sevastopol, Metz, Gibraltar, -Vicksburg, Ladysmith. Always by surprise. Zee physical is but -zee one aspect of zee situation. Zere are zee three aspect--zee -physical, zee mental and zee moral. Zee moral aspect will -be--what you call it? zee final decidence. When what you call zee -psychologique mo-ment come--in zee wind, zee rain, zee storm, zee -quick rush--zen zee high spirit go low--phwaat! like zat--zen Port -Art fall. By a surprise. One sergeant he take Dalny, one private -soldier he will take Port Art.” - -We loiter along the parallel on our way back. The ripsaw strikes -a knot above our heads and we shy to windward. D’Adda reminds -me that once when Skoboleff, greatest of all Russian soldiers, -thus ducked in giving way to a purely physical reflex action, he -immediately leaped to the parapet, and walked along in full view of -the enemy, until two members of his staff dragged him down as he -sputtered out his disgust with himself. - -We stop, winded. Again the ripsaw. Again the shrink. Then, content -with what breath we have, fearful we may have no more, we hurry on, -our knees sprung, our heads drawn in, like turtles slinking through -the mud. We have no troops to encourage, no reputations to sustain. -We are not Skoboleffs. - - - - -Chapter Nine - -A BATTLE IN A STORM - - -Ho-o-zan (the Phœnix Mountain), Manchuria, August 28th:--Ninety-six -hours of almost incessant fighting--from sun to moon, from moon -to searchlight and from searchlight to dawn--is more than human -endurance, backed though it be by Japanese pluck, can stand, and -there was nothing to do last night but rest. Only an occasional -sentry pop or the roll off to the right of a wheezy cannon whose -shot traveled on wheels in need of grease, told us that the sublime -panorama of mountains and valleys lying before us hid a hundred -thousand armed and warring men. - -Until last night the weather has been all sun and moonlight, with -dawns and sunsets tinted persimmon russet, and the valleys bright -twenty hours out of the twenty-four; fighting conditions ideal for -the defense, whose searchlights and star bombs made the other four -hours bright and left surprise as difficult as to a poker student -playing with his back to a mirror. But mirror or no mirror the -Japanese attacked. Night was day to them and daytime hell, as they -hurled themselves against that iron chain of forts, only to break -as the waves of the sea climb up to shatter upon the rocks. The -rocks disintegrate. Yes. Yet hard on the waves--and slow. - -Losses? Officially it was admitted that more than twenty-five -thousand were done for. Not since Grant hurled his inefficient -brigades on Cold Harbor has there been such a slaughter against -a fortress. In the Ninth division, which lay in our immediate -front and which formed the center of the army, two regiments were -entirely decimated and a battalion and a company of artillery put -out of action, to a man. For a week the roads at the bases of our -mountain dribbled stretchers loaded with masses of flesh, clothes -and blood. The soldiers’ “bandaging places” overflowed, and the -living were so busy helping others to live, and still others to -die, there was no time to bury the dead. - -And all for nothing. Not a single permanent fort had been taken, -not a prisoner, not a gun from the enemy was in our hands. The -opposing mountains, responsive with explosives to the touch, where -no art of the engineer was lost, held before us as always, grim, -monstrous, calm in mighty strength. On their under-features, -between the opposing outposts, lay thousands whom no first aid -dared reach, and other thousands whom no burial squad came near. -The men of words argued long that week. They could not agree -whether it was a reverse or a repulse. The anti-Japanese contended -that as we had not gained one point the action was a “reverse.” The -lenient were certain that as we had not been driven back no one -vain of military technique could call it more than a “repulse.” -The fifty thousand interested parents in Japan knew not if it was -victory or defeat; presently they are to find that it is death. -“Reverse” or “repulse” the commander cared not: he had disobeyed -an Imperial order, for the instructions were to enter Port Arthur -on the 21st of August. And the caterers of the treaty ports, -what cared they of “reverse” or “repulse”? The banquets had been -ordered, the five-dollar tickets sold, the day fireworks stored -for the fall of the eastern Gibraltar on this pre-ordained day. And -now the eggs were no longer strictly fresh, the vegetables were -stale, the meats off-color, while the back of Port Arthur was still -game and careless in all that brilliant weather. - -With us, to meet an officer was to see a face drawn and grave. -Useless to utter sympathy, superfluous to express confidence. They -had underestimated a great foe, miscalculated his strength, and -were paying the price--a fearful one--with the “two o’clock in -the morning” courage of desperately determined men. They did not -waver or complain, but it was terrible to see them, calm, patient, -silent, suffering, still resolute to go on, meeting each salutation -with a hollow smile, ghastly with ache. - -“What fine weather,” we say, wanting better speech. - -“For him--yes. Bad for us.” “Him” is the enemy, on whom the sun -shone gayly and for whom the new moon was a few hours off. - -Clouds came with last evening. Slowly the houses on the edge of the -old town disappeared against the murky hills. Then the new town -went. The huge cranes that marked the western harbor, where lay the -hunted warships, evaporated, the docks faded away, the stone quarry -was lost. At length the tall factory chimney on the outskirts, -which for days had been our chief landmark, went out in the haze. -That was the last we saw of the complete Port Arthur, whose -beleaguered, respected front had mocked us for eight desperate days. - -The moon had a hard time. She came up with a huge cigar in her -face--shocking in a lady moon!--which choked her till she spewed -and sputtered and went out. She was a new moon and died gamely, -filling the air with impudence and bravado, so it was some time -after midnight before the rain pattered her off about her business -with that silly cigar behind the clouds, and filled the valley -with mist. Thus, the rain was our friend and we welcomed it, -casting happy and fragrant remarks into the rising storm, singing -the mountain to sleep with our lullaby of content, for we knew -that “his” searchlights could do little, perhaps nothing, against -our soldier boys, already sore and tired, but valiant down there -in the huge night. Foiled in the light, we looked for them to do -something in the dark. - -But even before that we knew the night was big with promise, for -eight officers climbed up at dusk to stay the night with us. We lay -at length under rubber blankets and rough oiled paper used in Japan -for cart covers, with our noses stuck between the rocks, scenting -for excitement as deer are fire-stalked in the great woods. - -This mountain, the Phœnix, is directly in the rear center of Nogi’s -army and about a mile from his advance posts. Thus, with little -danger, we command as grand a battlefield as the world has yet -produced. From here we have seen, at the same time, exasperating as -a three-ring circus, two infantry assaults, three artillery duels, -and a naval engagement. The human impetus we knew not until last -night. Until then we knew only the sound and color of battle, and -its wild glory. So we fell asleep, the rain pattering. - -Past midnight and only stray sentry shots have carried out that -promise of something big. With difficulty we keep awake, yet the -officers behind lie expectant and the night is young. The fresh -rain dapples delicious coolness and filters mosquitoes--tiger -mosquitoes--more terrible than war. I hear deep breathing--then -quiet--and dreamland. - -Rain pelting in my face wakes me to greet a flash of lightning. -I tuck in the rubber blanket, reach for my watch and by the next -flash see the hands at seven minutes past three. I snuggle myself -into a ball and crunch the rocks closer. Another flash behind and -I spasmodically close my eyes, but open them in time to see the -mountain side and road below livid. Two horses are lying in the -road, killed, I suppose, by the flash. But, no, I remember that a -shell laid them out yesterday. Ricalton cries: - -“They’ve begun.” - -“No,” I yell, “it’s the storm,” and my voice is lost in the thunder. - -Is it thunder? Is it cannon? Who can tell? The vivid flashes, too -great for artillery, lighting up the whole mountain, come in now on -all sides and as fast as the lanyards of a battery could be pulled. - -The horrid grandeur rises. Prayerfully thankful to be in it I -desperately resolve not to run. How the molten sheets drag me -from that hole in the rocks! Surely every glass in Port Arthur is -leveled here! The next instant the Russian fire will concentrate -on the Phœnix. Yes. There it is--a flash from Golden Mount, like a -dynamic spark from one electrode to another, pointed this way, lost -in the ink of night. - -A double fear--the fear of shame and the fear of death--consumes -me. I shiver. But I grow brave, for I am not alone. Ricalton leaps -to his feet, wrapped in the trailing cart cover. - -“Sublime!” he cries, waves his arms aloft, laughs at the storm. - -More flashes from the Russian hills, the Japanese answer. The vast -night is hideously alive. Artillery flicks as fireflies spark, -spits tongues of flame, answering thunder with thunder, lightning -with lightning. The rain beats down a torrent. - -In the intermittent flashes the ugly eye of the searchlight looks -in, licks phosphorus about us and ambles off into the valleys, as -a cow might run the fur of her tongue over a cocklebur and calmly -go to grass. No taste for rocks over there. They are out for softer -game. Six more fling their deviltry from the head of Cyclops and -down in the valley struggle with mist and rain. - -Then, ’mid the sky’s and cannon’s belch, as a fairy into the land -of demons, a thin red line is tossed gracefully over the valley -from the Russian side. It reaches high over the mountains from -the sea forts and above the center of the great plain falls, as a -sailor casts a halyard over the yardarm on to the deck beyond. In -mid-air bursts the _feu de joie_, the delight of fireworks, in war -a spy. On other nights this deathly star bomb revealed all secret -movements, but now the Japanese have allies in the mist and rain. -Neither searchlight nor star bomb can penetrate the storm veil. - -Now comes the crackle of infantry, followed by the pop, pop, pop, -of quick-firers, the clatter of Hotchkiss howitzers, the more -sprightly click of Maxims. Another assault--and they have had -eleven in a week! Will they win this time? They are going for the -Cock’s Comb, whose crest stands out ominously against the sky. - -Boom! Bo-o-o-m! Far out of the distance a deep voice. - -“The navy. That’s a twelve-inch gun. Togo’s with us to-night!” -Ricalton ought to know, but who can tell? Is it a Japanese siege -mortar, a Russian coast defender, field artillery, star bomb, -machine gun, howitzer, or that grand bombardment from the heavens? -They are all in action to-night. Is it defeat or victory? Can they -take the fort? - -I can answer none of these questions. I only know that “a child -could understand the De’il had business on his hand.” - -As the crashes increase, the wind rising, the furor mounting, I -throw the cart cover aside wrap the blanket more closely about me -and run down the mountain. Ricalton calls, but I hear him not. The -reality of this din must be known. Over my shoulder as I run the -Phœnix looms up monstrous, haughty, wise and terrible, silhouetted -as she was born, anon in fire. - -At the foot a regiment is drawn along the road, the men squatting -on their heels, ponchos over heads, their rifle barrels, -brass-capped, peeping from the corners. I make for the valley. - -Seeking a trench where I have been before, between the lines of -fire, I hurry for the village of Shuishiying, the location two days -before of our outposts. No living thing is to be seen, but overhead -the big bullets crash from behind and lumber in from the front. -Down here between the two lines of batteries the way grows long, -the village distant, the desire to return manifold. The artillery -of two armies centers on me; not a pleasant sensation! Not on me, -of course, but I am not a Christian Scientist--nor yet a veteran! -It gets on my nerves. I turn back. Then through the dark I feel a -file of soldiers near and go on. - -Starting at every sound, in the purest darkness, not knowing -whether we or the enemy occupy the village, and yet so far by this -time I cannot return, I enter the village. A dull light around -the first corner shows me the headquarters of the infantry line -officers commanding the reserves--a place I had been two days -before. I go up. Only a sergeant is there answering the telephone. - -“My friends? Where?” - -He waves an arm toward the front. I tumble out of the village and -there are the advanced reserves drawn up, squatting on heels, -poncho-covered, rifles uncapped. A movement is beginning. I fall -in with the young lieutenant I know. The regiment quickly breaks -into charging formation--squads of twelve, and deploys single file -into the mealie fields to the left. I am discovered, ordered to -the rear. I protest. The sentry orders arms, bayonets fixed. I -go--back. The regiment goes--ahead. - -But why be foiled? Why come halfway round the globe to be turned -back at the summit? There is another way--to the right. I hurry -along it as day begins to break. The mists are heavy, the rain -drizzling, the first light struggling. I find the conical hill in -the center of the plain, quite detached from the fortress proper, -taken by our troops the day before and called the Kuropatkin -battery. I struggle through battered abattis and entanglement -for the elevation. The foss is filled with water--the only moat -before Port Arthur that has the traditional morass. The place is -deserted and if I can reach the front trench the whole action will -lie before me like a chessboard. Across the parapet lies a line -sergeant, his head gone. There has been no time for the dead. The -trail is thick with khaki bodies. Picking my way slowly forward, -halting at each yard to be sure that I am not in range of the -musketry whose wild rattle is now filling the air, I at length find -myself near a bombproof partially splintered by shells. The plain -now luminous, I pause for rest and safety, the din not lessening. - -But no sooner do I look around than I scramble quickly on--into -danger. Two figures are rigid there in the half-light of the -bombproof, one in khaki uniform, one in blue blouse and marengo -pants. The one in khaki has his teeth in the throat of the other, -whose eyes, popped like peas from the pod, peer over, rakishly -curious, at his limp hand dropped over the khaki back and holding a -pistol. The khaki hip is drenched with blood, partially dried. The -sun is come and gone and is now here again since that happened. The -faces are ghastly with bloat. I leave the half-light of the shelter -and go out where bullets are. - -The star bombs cease, the searchlights die away, the artillery -flags, the infantry grows noisier. Then I see the reserves falling -back, the squads of twelve escaping from one terrace to another, -in good formation, continually firing, but still falling back. -This Kuropatkin battery may see other dramas like the bombproof -duel. I hasten down. In the village I find the lieutenant busy with -trenches, improvising the defense. He throws all his English at me -as I come up: - -“The Russians--they come--I fix them. They are very wild. Our men -are very wild. Ah, it is a wild war.” The telephone rings. He runs -to speak with the general. Then the sergeant informs me. - -They had attempted an assault in the rain and dark. Beginning with -shrapnel they had tried to find the searchlights. Charges burst -above two of them nearest the Cock’s Comb, and they expired, as -if hit. The guileless infantry then went in, supposing the way -clear. Halfway up the glacis every searchlight, including the -two apparently hit, converged on them, throwing them out, in -spite of the rain, clearly against the red earth. More. They -carried nippers able to cut wire theretofore found before Russian -positions, but here the wire was as thick as the little finger, not -cutable with their weapons. Thus, instead of a lump of dough to be -bowled over the first dark night the advance regiment had found, -even in the rain, that the Cock’s Comb stood out intact as a racing -yacht stripped for her tryout. - -Yet another Russian dodge, for a battlefield is as full of -intrigue as a ballroom, completed the disaster. Under our fire of -the afternoon which preceded the rivalry with the storm Stoessel -had his batteries reply, but when we opened up with the storm he -ordered his guns to cease, one by one, battery by battery. Soon our -forces thought that like the searchlights the artillery was done -for. So when the advance, after creeping through the nipper-defying -barbed wire, expecting their job done, was about to leap with a -“Banzai” over the parapet, they were met by light and fire. Turning -to look for their comrades of the second regiment they found these -deep in the dunga, attempting, not to come on, but to cut their way -back, for a battery of pompoms and a regiment of sharpshooters -had sortied, almost segregating them from the command. The whole -brigade was threatened with annihilation and at this moment the -reserves I had joined were ordered to the relief. - -The regiment under fire of the machine guns retreated -precipitately, leaving one-half its number on the slope. Turmoil -again through the barbed wire and plump into the rear of the -second regiment, also retreating, not into its own lines, but into -the Maxims and Nordenfeldts. Overwhelmed on all sides, tricked, -defeated, two-thirds of the men killed or wounded, grimy with sweat -and powder and almost fainting in the muggy August, the decimated -brigade, its regiments back to back, fought as Custer fought on the -Little Big Horn, with a coolness that comes to men in the supreme -hour. - -Most of them died as Custer died, for out of that brigade of 6,000 -men there are to-day uninjured but 640. These were saved by the -reserves from Shuishiying, my lieutenant and his comrades, who, as -dawn came in, hammered the Russian rear and drove the Siberians, -sullen with the joy of successful trickery, up into their trenches. - -Wandering back toward Ho-o-zan, the forenoon well on, the rain -almost finished, I wondered was it “reverse” or “repulse”? Coming -to a place where the rear guard had been at my descent of the -mountain before dawn I looked for them in vain. Instead of the -greeting I expected from the side of the road the dust about me, -here and there, was flicked up, as if stones were thrown at me. - -“Is this a bit of soldier fun?” The pelting kept up. One of the -stones struck a few inches from my toe, when I heard the well-known -voice of Ricalton yelling from behind a shoulder of rock: - -“Here--out of that, you young ass!” - -Then I saw him frantically waving, from behind his shelter. But why -should he look for shelter there? The artillery fire was down. All -I could hear was a counter-attack of infantry a mile and a half in -my rear. But as soon as I got near him he ran out and dragged me -into the ditch at his side. - -[Illustration: AMMUNITION FOR THE FRONT] - -“Where are the soldiers?” I asked. Then I saw his fun. “You were -tossing things at me,” I cried. - -“Those! Spent bullets! You ----!” - -At this moment an orderly galloping along fell from his horse -several hundred yards up the road, and crawled into the ditch ahead -of us. We wormed up to him and found a slug had traveled from -shoulder to trunk under his ribs and into his thigh. - -They were fighting down the reverse slope of the Eternal Dragon, -an outwork of the Cock’s Comb, and the Russian bullets, aimed at -the foe above, cut a parabola in the air, and came down with their -initial velocity two miles off across the plain--where we stood. -The Russians on the reverse, the Rising Sun must be above the -Eternal Dragon. - -It is now noon. We are back on Ho-o-zan, looking out to sea. Twelve -warships are on the horizon. From one, the nearest in, comes an -occasional puff of white smoke, then a low, long bo-o-om! A shell -drops into the town. The eye follows. - -Now we see how the brigade is avenged. The houses of the old town -are charred and broken. The new town is gutted and smoldering. A -shell has carried away the factory chimney. One leg of the crane is -demolished and the other sags. The rain has put out the flames and -a dirty brown smoke fills the gap from Golden Mount to Tiger’s Tail. - -Between sun and sun the navy, brother of the army, has laid a heavy -paw upon the place. Its claws away, the deep scratches show where -Port Arthur bleeds. - - - - -Chapter Ten - -THE CREMATION OF A GENERAL - - -Before Port Arthur, Sept. 27th.--Major-General Yamamoto was shot -and instantly killed two days ago. The brigade he commanded--one -leading the right wing of the Army--had captured the outworks of -“203.” This mountain had been long in dispute and was dominated by -certain Russian forts, which made it, while Japanese territory, yet -untenable by our forces. Yamamoto’s brigade, however, clung under -the reverse ridges and occupied trenches at the top, keeping the -foothold secure until artillery could be advanced to reduce the -opposing positions. In this critical situation the General thought -it best to be on the ground in person and advanced his headquarters -to the base of the mountain, which exists on the map only under -the figure “176,” denoting its height in meters, but which his -soldiers had cherished “Namicoyama,” because of its resemblance -to the trepang or namico, a long angular fish abundant in eastern -waters. - -The night of the move Yamamoto climbed the mountain and crept -into the trenches for a look at the contested heights opposite. -He came before he was expected and his engineers had not had time -to prepare a bombproof shelter through whose chinks he could look -in safety. He would not wait, but put his glasses through a rift -in the trenches and settled into a comfortable seat to study the -situation. There was no regular firing, but only the desultory -popping that is heard night and day along the whole ten-mile front, -where sharp-eyed pickets are keen and cautious. The General became -bold, raised his head--whit--a bullet through his brain. - -Neither officers nor men can be said to be reckless, or even -incautious. The army is devoid of that extravagance expected of -war, when each man’s courage seems in question and cowardice -impels bravado. Evidently, there is not a coward in the army, -for the bravery of each soldier and of each officer seems taken -for granted. All make of war a serious business, in which lives -are units to be kept for the Emperor and skillfully used, as -a go-player advances his pawns, saving all he can for final -victory. The labor done in a week to build cover would gather all -the harvests of Manchuria, which just now are mellow ripe and -gloriously beautiful in the keen sunlight. Whole mountains are -tunneled, in some places through solid rock; in others through -slanting shale, to afford covered ways. At each divisional -headquarters, of which the army has three, the lookout has two -bombproofs dug in the solid rock on commanding heights, buttressed -by three layers of sand bags, covered with two feet of earth, -all supported by poplar poles, with the loophole for lookout -cunningly slanted so the sun will not show behind and indicate to -the enemy--perhaps only 500 yards away--the precious eyes behind. -These bombproofs sometimes are made quite comfortable with rugs -and improvised stools, but mostly knees suffer and the wretched -correspondent traveling from post to post comes to complain not of -“writer’s cramp,” but of “general’s stoop.” A month ago on the left -wing of the army two staff officers were killed in a bombproof -by a bursting shell. The army was scared, for a staff officer is -valuable freight. Since then care has been redoubled; sand bags -have been laid a layer deeper on all lookouts, ramparts have been -heightened, and now venerable, curious heads sink lower as they -turn up for a view. - -The death of the General, Yamamoto, was another warning. It -was also a severe blow. He was one of the most competent men -in the army, commanded a star brigade and was slated for early -advancement. Last night his memory received a most distinguished -honor: the corpse was cremated on the battlefield where he lost his -life. - -To appreciate how great the honor was it will be necessary to -explain two conditions: First, wood on the peninsula here is worth -its weight in cash. The country is not wooded to begin with, which -is the cause of another difficulty the army has to face--scarcity -of water. About the villages there are usually a few poplars, but -the mountains have nothing but Scotch heather and the plains only -Ventura County bean pods and San Joaquin wheat fields. Then two -great armies have boiled water and savagely wrangled here for three -months, until all the rotten timber of old Manchurian dwellings -has gone for firewood. As a consequence a frequent sight is a -transport cart with some stubs of spruce tied to the whiffletree, -being carried from Dalny, twenty-two miles away. Dried maize stalks -are the universal fuel. Cracker boxes sell for a dollar apiece and -the other day I found my servant brushing the pencil whittlings -from the floor to use for kindling. Second, it was the samurai’s -belief that a warrior who sacrificed his life in combat should be -honored by cremation on the spot of his vicarious atonement. And -the difference between the army of to-day and a samurai clan of a -generation ago is far less than the difference between cuirass and -bombproof; you can’t wipe out the clinging beliefs of generations -in forty years--not in the Orient. It may take hyposcopes and -searchlights, wireless telegraphy and machine guns to win -victories, but only funeral pyres and Shinto sacrifices will pay -for them. - -Wood-impoverished, the army cannot honor its humble dead; _i. e._, -not immediately; wait till Port Arthur falls--but of that later. -It is different with generals. As a daimyo in feudal times received -the forehair of all his clan as a final offering, so to-day a -general gone gets the camp fires of his soldiers. Last night the -brigade which had lost its intrepid head ate its rice dinner cold -and went without hot water for its tea. All the mess fires were -contributed to make a pyre worthy the deceased. - -Just as the sun went down, at the bottom of Namicoyama, whose -heights war had swept but a day before, in sight and sound of the -grim proofs of his last victory--emplaced batteries and occupied -field hospitals--the body of the major-general was given to the -flames, while his men in the trenches above sternly held the -Russians at bay. Occasional cannon rent the air, infantry popping -cracked in the stillness, myriad tent lights twinkled up into the -moonlight; the blaze shot up, waned, crackled and died down. The -midnight shift of sentries presented silent arms. A donkey brayed -out of the valley. Miles to the left a howitzer boomed. The ocean -lay black like ink beyond a fringe of shore gray under the moon. A -line of coolies passed with bamboo stretchers carrying piteously -mangled forms--the day’s harvest to which the coolies had been -called from their maize and their millet. Embers gleamed from the -brigade’s mess fire. Two orderlies stepped up with a wooden box, -kicked the embers away, and placed in it some ashes. - -A week hence a family in Tokyo--a quiet, dry-eyed Japanese lady -with two half-grown boys--will receive the wooden box. It will be -borne a few days later through the streets of the capital on a gun -carriage to Aoyama Cemetery. There, after two white-robed priests -have said a few words over it, a long shelf in a narrow vault will -receive the wooden box. The widow will have notification by special -messenger that his August Highness, the Emperor, sees fit to -remember the illustrious deeds of the departed by conferring upon -him--who is not dead, but who has passed on to wait--the order of -the Rising Sun, and, in the absence of the husband the wife will be -permitted to receive the pension attached thereto. Japanese history -will record that Major-General Yamamoto, after a valiant career -in the service of his Emperor, gave up his life at the Battle of -Namicoyama, in Manchuria, Sept. 24th, 1904. - -Last night the brigade bivouacked in joyous envy. Had not its -general received what every soldier longs for--death before the -enemy; had he not also received the soldier’s apotheosis--cremation -on the scene of his exaltation? This is as near religion as these -people get. But the staff and the new major-general, educated -in Europe and living in the twentieth century, when they climb -Namicoyama to spy upon Port Arthur will wait until the engineers -have safe-marked the heights with bombproofs. - - - - -Chapter Eleven - -THE GENERAL’S PET - - -He was small, like all his race, and he looked as harmless as a -musician. In fact, his eyes had the dreaminess of a musician’s, -and the clasp of his hand was like that of a woman. He touched -me on the arm one day as I came out of the staff tent at General -Nogi’s headquarters, and asked me in fairly good English if I knew -San Francisco. Together, with a crooked stick, we traced out a -map of the city on the sand at our feet. He knew it as well as I -and he pointed to his former home, near the corner of Washington -and Mason streets. Then he pulled from his breast pocket a letter -sweat-stained and travel-worn, which, read: - - “To whomever this may concern, I wish to say that the bearer, - George, is the most faithful servant I have ever had, that he is - a good cook, and that he has a lovely character. I will consider - it a favor to myself if his next employer treats him generously. - - “MRS. H. L. HEVENER, - - “1180 Mason Street - - “San Francisco.” - -His real name was Eijiro Nurimiya. He had seen me the day before at -the General’s tiffin and had read the word, “San Francisco,” on my -arm band, but had not ventured to speak to me when in the General’s -presence. He was one of Nogi’s bodyguard, and I immediately knew he -must be a man of some distinction, for throughout the camp it was -well understood that Nogi had about him only those private soldiers -who had become eminent for service in the field. That day and the -following days when Nurimiya came to my bean shed, we had long -talks over the tea and cakes. Thus his story is here set down: - -He left the Hevener home nearly a year before the war began and -worked in a watchmaker’s shop on Jackson Street in San Francisco. -Like all of his countrymen he had ambition and desired to rise -above the kitchen. But he was a reserve conscript, subject, as such -reserves are, to the call of the Emperor at any crisis similar to -the one that his country is now in. So he responded to this call -March 23d, sailing on the _Korea_ from San Francisco to Kobe, -twenty miles from which his home lay in the Ugi Provinces. - -His father, a mender of broken barrels, is separated from his -mother, who keeps a tea house in Kioto. There is one sister at the -tea house with his mother. He had three days with his parents, -the first time he had seen them in six years. Then he sailed for -Manchuria, where he joined the famous Ninth Regiment, the Black -Watch of Japan, a part of the Ninth Division of the Third Army -chosen to conduct the operations against Port Arthur. This same -regiment had a number of other American Japanese. - -The campaign had progressed two months, when Nurimiya saw his first -great battle. It was the grand assault against the permanent forts -of Port Arthur, lasting through seven frightful August days. He is -one of the fifteen survivors of Company C of this Ninth Regiment, -which marched into the Seven Days’ Battle three hundred and fifty -strong. - -The first day Nurimiya went with his comrades against the north -battery of the Cock’s Comb Fort, which was finally captured on -December 18th. Thus, it took the Japanese four months of desperate -work to accomplish that for which Nurimiya’s comrades were lost -those seven days in August. Most of the regiment was wiped out -in front of the Cock’s Comb. What was left, including Nurimiya, -was ordered to reinforce the Seventh Regiment, operating to the -right against the fort of the Eternal Dragon. Against the Cock’s -Comb Nurimiya fought in the front line. He also had the same -good fortune in the fight against the Eternal Dragon, for to the -Japanese such an opportunity is considered good fortune. More of -his comrades were lost here, including all that came from America. -The following two days he lay with a few others hugging the base of -the fort in the broiling sun, cut off from provisions. About this I -asked him: - -“Were you thirsty?” - -He replied: “By-m-by very much want to drink, so I make water--red -water.” - -With that he struck his wrist mimically showing that he had slit -one of his veins to slake his thirst. - -But the great act of Nurimiya’s life came on the 25th of August, -when he made the ninth assault he had participated in during the -seven days--and the first successful one. Each Japanese infantryman -carries in his breast a linen flag--a cheap affair that you might -pick up in a department store for a few pennies--a red sun on a -white field. The first man into an opposing trench or redoubt waves -this flag above his head. It is a signal to his own artillery, -showing them where they must not fire, and also acquaints the -commanding officer, viewing the action from some eminence in the -rear, with the situation. Nurimiya was the first man to wave his -little flag over the Eternal Dragon. The Eternal Dragon was the -only fort which the Japanese held in that permanent Russian line -through the three months of August, September and October, and it -was the object essential to the engineers in outlining their vast -siege operations across the plain. Thus it was the San Francisco -watchmaker who planted the flag of the Rising Sun on the key fort -at Port Arthur. - -General Nogi chose Nurimiya and his fourteen comrades for body -servants and relieved them for the rest of the campaign from active -duty on the firing line. - -This is how I found him at the General’s house. I asked if he -wanted to go back to America. He replied: - -“War all finish I go. Nogi-San need me I stay.” - -Then with great eagerness he told me how he wanted to get back into -the fight and for the first time in all our acquaintance his eyes -lost their dreaminess and the clasp of his hand became taut with -energy. - -I did not tell him how I that morning had learned from the General -himself that never again should Nurimiya be subjected to the -supreme test. - -“Is it not pleasant here at headquarters, with the band, and the -foreigners, and the nice cooking, and the easy work?” I asked. - -He was not interested in what I said. He waved an indefinite arm -toward the front and replied: - -“By-m-by they make plenty die off there. Then I go back.” - -He had not yet learned that he was the General’s Pet. - - - - -Chapter Twelve - -COURTING DEATH UNDER THE FORTS - - -Willow tree village, Headquarters Third Imperial Army, Manchuria, -four miles from Port Arthur, Oct. 5th: - -It was in August that the Japanese took the Eternal Dragon, -advanced their outposts beyond its walls, threw up trenches, and -settled down this inch nearer the coveted goal. In this fearful -fight a certain part of the field was taken and retaken seven -times, and finally, for strategic reasons, though the fort which -was the bone of contention rested with the victors, a piece of dead -ground beyond, over which these repeated charges had occurred, -lay partly within the Russian lines and partly within our own. -Dead bodies mingled with wounded--Russians jowl by cheek with -Japanese--lay over it so thick that a man might have walked from -one trench to another without touching the earth. The wounded could -not be succored, the dead could not be buried except when they -lay behind the opposing trenches. Between, no living thing could -exist. The lines were but three hundred yards apart--a distance at -which even a poor marksman could shoot fatally, and through all the -twenty-four hours the two trenches were lined by sharpshooters a -rod apart and on the constant lookout. - -The weather was perfect. By day the sun shone; by night the moon, -assisted by searchlights and star shells, kept the plain of death -as light as day. The light showed the loopholes of the trenches so -well that they could not be used, for the moment a shadow appeared -behind one a marksman from the other side would put a bullet -through it. The men sighted the hyposcope--an instrument first -used extensively at this siege--which is a telescope arranged with -mirrors at a reflex angle, so the scope goes over a wall while -the eye sees in perfect safety twelve inches below. At occasional -places, carefully shadowed, they kept chinks covered by stones, -which, when the sun sank to the proper angle, or at dawn, could be -uncovered to make a peephole large enough for a man’s eye. - -Now for a month, under a torrid sun, unmarred by a day of rain -or scarce a fleck of cloud, hundreds of dead have lain rotting -in that compact space. A flag of truce to bury them was out of -the question. The Japanese had far the worst of it, as their -lines, drawn in a lunette, partly surrounded the charnel house -below which they lay, steeped in its noisome drains. Moreover, -in hastily throwing up their trenches the night of the battle, -corpses, loosely covered; had been used to improvise the walls, -so bodies and stones together formed a shelter which in life the -men thus commandeered could not have made. Well the Russians knew -of the disease the sun was breeding, and refused a truce, for the -dead played well into their hands. Stench could be a weapon more -effective than bullets or strategy. So, day after day they held the -Japanese there, as a dog’s nose is rubbed in his own mess. - -Watch on sentry posts was cut from four hours to two, and at the -worst portion of the line to one hour. The pickets swathed their -thin brown faces in towels and the commissary supplied smelling -salts. An officer who served on that picket line twelve days told -me that the sun alone was enough to defeat an ordinary man in four -hours. Added to that the slightest zephyr bore a fetid breath more -foul than the lowest of a city’s sewers. - -During the first day groans could be heard occasionally from the -contested ground. Wounded--no one could guess how many--lay there -dying. To have attempted succor would have been suicide. The -pickets did all they could. They threw rations of biscuits beyond -the trenches, scattering them along the ground, blindly, of course, -but carefully as a farmer strews a field. A company divided itself; -one part sacrificed its water bottles, slinging across their -shoulders beer bottles, instead of the handy and handsome aluminum -ones furnished by the army. Then the aluminum bottles, that would -stand the shock of striking, which might shatter a beer bottle, -were tossed over to the starving, thirsty wretches. - -The second morning there came some desultory groans from the -farther side. The groans suddenly ceased. Successive rifle pops -told that the Russian sharpshooters had picked off the wounded. -Picket duty in the trenches became more deadly. The army had -settled, with quiet determination, into a siege. One night, as the -moon rose over another division of the army, two thousand yards -to the west, there appeared above the trenches a cap. A bullet -pierced it instantly, but it was only a feint cap on the end of a -stick. The picket nearest saw it was a Japanese cap, and called his -challenge, “Who goes there?” - -“Tomodachi!” (a friend) came the response. - -“Show your arm.” - -A small grimed hand on an emaciated forearm was thrust above the -parapet. The picket grasped it and pulled sharply. With a groan of -agony and relief a bundle of rags, dirt and clotted blood tumbled -into the trench. The picket forgot his duty as he knelt over his -comrade, for, ground in filth and caked as it was with dried blood, -he could not mistake the universal brown khaki, and under an arm -was slung a bit of cotton-incased wood--a Shinto emblem, for this -time, at least, triumphant. The wounded soldier fainted. - -[Illustration: - - _Copyright, 1905 by Collier’s Weekly_ - -HOW THEY GOT IN - -Eighteen miles of these trenches were dug through the plain before -the Russian forts.] - -In a field hospital this afternoon I was privileged and honored -in looking upon and talking with this hero. He is a distinguished -soldier of the famous Ninth Regiment, the Black Watch of Japan, -which lost all but ten per cent. of its forces in that illustrious -assault under the Chinese wall. So marvelous is the recovery of the -wounded that the soldier smiled as he lay, speaking occasionally -a few words in response to my interpreted questions. His head -and legs were swathed in bandages and he was sipping saké--a -present from his Emperor. How these soldiers love their Emperor! -Well they may, for a week ago there sailed into Dalny harbor -a transport laden with presents from His Majesty to his sick -soldiers. All the privates got saké, all the officers brandy. In -addition, every private received a present of three yen in cash, -the non-commissioned officers from three to ten yen, and the -commissioned officers from ten to sixty yen each. - -Here is the soldier’s remarkable account: - -“I was one of the few who reached the Chinese wall that terrible -August afternoon. There were but a few of us left, scarce half a -company out of a regiment, when the Captain in command ordered -us to scale the wall. I had but reached for the stones when my -legs went from under me--melted away. A shell fragment had smashed -them as a bamboo pole is smashed under a hammer. The pain was -little, but it gradually spread over my body. I became numb, then -unconscious, and though shells were busy all about me, lay for -hours with no further hurt. I came to, under the stars.” - -The soldier told little of what he felt and saw, but it can -be imagined; the vast plain, silent but alive with hostile -trenches; the gloomy fortress above, bristling with cannon, but -silent; the concealed batteries--his own--miles beyond, from -which an occasional boom and whiz startled the gaunt and shivery -searchlights in their fantastic pencilings; then his sense of -comrades lost, of dear ones perhaps dead within sound of his voice, -with memories of home and better days; then desolation at defeat, -the foe victorious, pride alone resolute, triumphant to the last. - -He could hear sounds of pick and spade scratching the chilly earth, -clamping into the shale. Only a few rods away the reinforcements -were hastily throwing up earth-works to hold the hard-won ground. -He saw indistinct forms groping in the dusk, pulling about other -forms, inanimate ones, and hastily covering them with earth. The -dead were being used to more quickly fill in the embankments. In a -few days those carcasses--rotting--would charge usurious toll for -all the improvised help they were this fatal night. - -The soldier tried to crawl toward his comrades, but he could move -only a few inches at a time, so intense was the agony in his legs, -for the cool of night and renewed circulation had brought back his -senses in full keenness. - -Soon dawn came and with it hell. The battle was on again, this -time in other parts of the field, but the shells and bullets so -often passed over him that he came to think of himself as a dead -man and lived on only because nature exerted her just law. Like an -opossum he feigned death. Within his sight were more than a hundred -dead and twice as many wounded. Groans welled up like bubbles from -a pot. Arms tossed feverishly. Backs writhed in despair. Then -biscuits began falling from his own trenches; one fortunately fell -near him. He also managed to get a tossed-over water bottle. To -reach it he was obliged to crawl a few feet and as his hand touched -it he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder and the blood trickled. A -bullet had pinked him. Instinctively he fell as if dead. - -It was then that there occurred the thing which has inflamed -the army as tow is inflamed on bonfire nights. The whole vast -amphitheater was quiet. It was sundown. Nature was in her most -gorgeous raiment. Both armies were at supper and an involuntary -truce seemed to still the hills and valleys so lately fire-ringed. -In the midst of this peace and beauty a desultory firing rang from -the Russian trenches nearest the bloody angle in which lay the -soldier with his comrades--dead and worse than dead. The bullets -were directed, not into the opposing trenches, but into the wounded -in the bloody angle. - -“Stand to your guns, men!” came from the Japanese trenches, and the -men sprang as though to resist a sortie. - -But there was no sortie. The Russians were killing the wounded, -that the bodies might rot and drive their comrades from below. - -The moving ceased, the groans ceased, the sun went down, the stars -and searchlights came. Impelled by the first law of nature the -soldier dragged on, wearily, as he supposed, toward his friends. -But the ground was level and he must have gone laterally. Toward -dawn he tumbled into a deserted trench and found a sort of -sheltered dugout. It was a covered passage to the Russian fort -and untenable now by either side. In it were two Japanese so -desperately wounded they could not move and could barely speak. He -shared his last drop of water with them. - -As they were drinking a figure slouched along the trench and -blocked the doorway. It wore a black-visored cap, shiny with -celluloid--a Russian cap. Searching the gloom the Russian found -the three wounded soldiers. Then he poked his rifle in and fired -three bullets--one at the brain of each. Two died instantly. The -third--the soldier who had already survived as by a miracle--passed -into what he thought was the rigor of death. All grew black before -his eyes. Never from that moment to this--seventeen days later--has -he seen even a glimmer, nor will he ever see again. The bullet -passed across his eyes as he lay side down and shattered the optic -nerve. - -The Russian thought his work complete. Leaving his rifle outside he -passed into the dugout and emptied the pockets of the two dead men -and the third, whom he believed to be dead. Then sneaking back up -the passage, the Russian regained his own lines. - -For five days the soldier lay in the dugout, unable to move, -unable to see, numb from long suffering. Almost crazed by thirst -and hunger, he at length severed the arteries of one of his fallen -comrades, newly dead, and lived on. He found worms crawling in the -wounds of his legs. He tore up the shirt of a corpse and bound them. - -Then began as memorable a journey as man ever made, as heroic a -combat for life as pioneer or warrior ever underwent. He started -to crawl to the Japanese lines. Blinded, paralyzed, his legs -shattered, one arm useless, half dead with fatigue, his tongue -swollen with thirst, and starving, he made his piteous way a few -yards each night. - -Directions were useless. Seeing nothing he could not tell whether -firing came from friend or foe. He only knew that his way -was down. So down he crawled. Bullets and shells passing over -him became so common he lost all sense of them. By a terrible -mistake--an error that cost twelve days of agony, for otherwise he -might have traveled the few essential yards in a night--he missed -the captured fort which marked the apex of the wedge driven into -the Russian lines. And so his fearful, sublime crawl was for a -thousand yards along the front of his own lines, into which at any -time, had he turned straight along the face of the hill, he might -have come and found sound legs and new, clear eyes. But down was -his direction and down he went--a thousand yards in twelve nights. -He found a few new dead with biscuit in their pockets and blood in -their veins--this saved him. - -So history repeats itself. Ten years ago--to the month--the -Japanese lay without Port Arthur as they do to-day. Instead of -Russians, Chinese were inside. But as the Japanese advanced along -the western wall they suddenly at a bend in the way came upon ten -bodies--no more--of their own comrades, stripped and mutilated, the -heads grinning from pikes above. The Chinese had visited their -own vengeance on successful enemies. But the act lost them Port -Arthur. The Japanese became an army of fanatics, a tribe of solemn, -righteous men, inflamed with the zeal of retribution, blazing with -revenge, as did once that ancient civilization founded on the -prophetic watchword, “An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.” The -next day Port Arthur fell. Those ten bodies cost the Chinese a -province, a fortune and an island kingdom. - -How will the Russians pay? I asked this of a certain -Lieutenant-General, who told me some of the details I have just -related. He raised his arm and pointed beyond the bombproof in -which we sat to where the western harbor, with its magnificent -Russian stone dwellings rising beyond could be plainly seen. - -“We have a proverb in our country,” said he, “like this, ‘Once won, -well won; twice won, never lost.’” - - - - -Chapter Thirteen - -FROM KITTEN TO TIGER - - -Headquarters, Third Imperial Army, Before Port Arthur, Sept. -30th:--We went yesterday to the foremost firing line, where all the -venom of war is concentrated in a score of yards among a dozen men. -There we saw how the besiegers of Port Arthur are besieging it, how -they live, what manner of men they are, and some of the facts of -modern warfare which those who want to know about the humanity of -science had better not read. Before we went an officer led us to a -bombproof on the Japanese side of the great valley across which we -were to go to gain the captured fort. - -“Look!” said he, turning over his hyposcope, “the way is about a -mile and a half. The real danger is in the fort itself, but if -you are very careful to crawl with your heads low you are safe. -If you decide to go you must relieve our authorities from all -responsibility for your lives.” - -Across the valley a puff of white spat out a tongue of flame; a -shell crashed into the escarpment below us. From across the valley -came the intermittent puffing of outposts. A mis-shot bullet lapped -up a patch of dust twenty paces to our right. - -“Well, gentlemen, will you go? It’s a quiet morning. We had better -start soon if at all, for the sun is in their eyes now; soon it -will be against us and then they can pick us off like flies.” - -Villiers was with me. “What do you say?” he asked. “It’s time to -measure risks. Think what you’ll get out of it. A correspondent -dead is of no use to his paper, and people remember him as a fool -who got shot in some reckless venture. Remember, you’re going into -bullet fire for the first time. You’ve had shell fire only, up to -now, and shell fire is to bullets what a bluebottle fly is to a -tiger mosquito. Forbes used to have a supreme contempt for shell -fire and a supreme respect for bullets. A shell buzzes and blows--a -bullet flits in quietly, spits through an artery, the heart, the -head--and it’s all over. Their rifles fire point blank at 200 yards -and up where you want to go the lines are but forty yards apart. -They can pick off a ten-cent piece at that distance. Remember, if -your head shows so much as an inch above that parapet, you’re only -good to sniff at when the wind blows from you, for these people -have no extra stretcher for your useless carcass.” Villiers can say -these things. Somewhere in his London studio is his order of St. -George which the Czar gave him for audacity at Plevna. Also some -seven other governments have decorated him for fit war behavior, so -he is an expert on battlefields. - -“But,” said I, “think of what there is up there: the bloody angle, -scene of the death of 3,000 men, heaps of unburied slain, trenches -made of corpses, sentries firing, the living sleeping, eating, -working among their dead comrades, the enemy on three sides, with -this single line of supply and retreat down which only four men can -march abreast. This captured fort is to the siege of Port Arthur -what Nanshan is to the campaign--its decisive battle. It is the -wedge Japan is driving into the heart of Russia and we’ll be on its -tip. When the nations hear the truth about this fort--the assault -that captured it, the odds against which it was fortified and held -for six weeks--it will be the marvel of the age. Think! Would you -miss standing on the apex of the world?” - -“I was a youngster myself once and I’m not old now,” replied -Villiers. “They fake these things in London almost as well as I -can do them in the field, so why risk my bones? But I’m as good -as a Japanese officer or an American reporter. Up to now we’ve -been chaperoned scribblers; here we become war correspondents. It -smells of the old days: Forbes, Cameron, Pierce, McGahan, Jackson, -Burleigh--and that crowd of gay devils. Lead on.” Perhaps you will -be more interested in Villiers to know that he is supposed to be -the original of Kipling’s character, Dick the Artist, in “The Light -that Failed.” - -So we went into the chipmunk’s burrow, up through the cornfields, -frowned on by a hundred thousand guns, menaced by two armies, -until we nestled in the ragged hole Japan has torn in Russia’s -impregnable last stand. Laterally down the line of our advance, but -high over our heads, shells often rammed their harsh bewilderment -and we could hear them strike, sometimes rods, sometimes miles -away. How like a live thing a shell snarls--as some wild beast, in -ferocious glee thrusting the cruel fangs in earth and rock, rending -livid flesh with its savage claws, and its fetid breath with poison -powder scorching the autumn wind! ’Most always it fizzes and funks -in shameful waste. Bullets are the nasty things; a who-whit, a dry -spat, a thin hole drilled in a frightful way, as snakes sling their -venom in sly and easy scorn. When we got halfway up, and into the -angle, so that Russian trenches were on three sides, a number sped -about us. Hardly a minute but one passed over our heads. - -The situation looks well in print. Yet we were in little danger. -Our wits kept--we were safe. For this let us profoundly thank the -engineer who built that siege parallel--a cunning masterful Yankee -of the East, whose name as a military engineer must be handed -down to future generations of technical students. He had taken -advantage of every rise in the ground and of every depression. Of -corn stubble he made a drapery, of hillocks a screen, of ravines an -ambuscade, until Nature so aided him that she and not the Japanese -infantry was the assaulting force against those heights beyond. - -We walked twenty meters apart, for, should we by any chance lift -our heads together and be sighted in a party, the Russians could -drop a bit of shrapnel over us. Otherwise we might be off for a -morning stroll down a country lane. We crouched as we walked, for -the trench was built for Japanese, who average a few inches less in -height than a foreigner. The distance as the crow flies was little -over half a mile; we went nearly a mile and a half. At one side -ran a telephone wire, staked down at intervals with broken, rusty -rifles. At every angle a sentry saluted, stepping forth grimly -from a dugout. Halfway up we passed a stretcher bearing a body, -the face covered with coarse matting, sewn roughly--a corpse of -the night before. Farther on came a soldier with his arm in a wet, -crimson sling. Half an hour before, feeling secure after days in -the ominous place, he had passed into a ravine he thought safe, -but out of the path chosen by the clever engineer. He was in the -Russian fire zone and presently a shell fragment smashed his arm. -From a dozen to fifteen are lost that way every day. - -Across the valley we halt at the foot of a hill and then turn -into the fort. Chloride of lime is sprinkled here over the human -effluvia that nowhere else can be deposited, but a bone sticks -out of the trench wall. I look closely. It is a human femur. From -it projects a heavy coil of rubber-insulated cable. The officer -explains that this formed the electric communications with the -barbed wire entanglements through which we are passing, and that -on the day of the fight it was charged so that when the Japanese -pioneers tried to cut the wire with pincers they were prostrated -with the shock and had to wait for glove-handled tools. Beside it -is a long strip of bamboo, torn and shattered. This was carried to -the attack by two soldiers who with it tossed into the fort a short -strip of bamboo stuffed with gun cotton. This, exploding, tore a -hole through which the men could charge. It was a more effective -bombardment than the shells. As we turned the corner we came upon -the men and at last we saw the besiegers of Port Arthur, where they -were living, 200 yards from the Russian trenches, in the famous -redoubt where enough men have been killed to cover the place four -deep with corpses. - -The officer took up a pick lying in the trench. “Look!” said he, -“the point was sharp as a grindstone could make it to begin with, -but in some places, you know, the rock is hard and--” he would -apologize. He was very sorry we should find the picks in such bad -condition. He was always apologizing. He apologized for the length -of the way, the heat of the sun, the annoyance of the shells. But -the boys in khaki smiled on. Word passed as to who we were and they -greeted us dumbly, spread out their pitiful small blankets, pulled -from obscure coats and corners their precious sweetmeats, advanced -the cigarettes that mean more than beef to a soldier, offered us -their still more precious tea. All over them was written their joy -in being recognized, in having someone share their hardships. - -Death on the battlefield is the height of this soldier’s ambition. -But not uncleanliness on the battlefield, and all the time we -sat there I was aware of a pervasive, sickening odor, something -strange, something frightfully offensive. - -“What can it be?” I said as it bore in upon me and I felt suddenly -nauseated. - -“Well, in the hurry of building these trenches, in the night, -under fire, a few dead bodies--only a few--were rolled into the -escarpment. We very much regretted it----.” The officer apologized -profusely, but they had been under fire ever since and the trenches -could not be torn down. So they stood--human walls. “But I can -assure you there is no smell now. The first week, in the hot -sun--Ah! then I should not have liked to bring you here.” As I -leaned against the wall something crushed, like the snap of a -pencil, under my back. I leaped, in alarm, to my feet. As I turned -around a blue coat, which I had pushed back in my fatigue, fell -over the skeleton of a hand, and at my feet dropped the joint of a -forefinger. Villiers pulled me to my knees. - -“Look over there,” he said and pointed beyond the trench. I saw -fresh earth heaped up. “It is the brow of the Russian works,” he -said, “but look in between--that pit of uniforms.” A mound of -soiled, tattered clothes, higher than a man could stand, and longer -than a company street, lay before us, not fifty feet away. At the -base, facing me, detached from the rest, a hideous skull leered. -“Unburied dead,” Villiers said, “hugging the ground, sent back into -the earth from whence they came.” - -Then the officer apologized. Yes, there was no chance to bury the -dead. Under constant fire for six weeks, between hostile lines, -they slowly rotted away until only bones and rags remained--Russian -and Japanese inextricably together on the scene of the last -desperate Russian stand, where was concentrated all the machine gun -fire of both sides. - -Wounded and dying had been mixed with dead. No succor was possible. -A general must count his men as fighting units and he could not -afford to pay a dozen good lives for one injured. We turned to -go--stomach and heart sick, but the boys in khaki smiled. They -were used to it. Just then the postman passed. He had a handful of -cards, scrawled over with loving messages. - -As we saw how complete the service was--mail delivered under the -shadow of guns, and as a man goes on to the firing line to offer -up his life--we suddenly came to the telephone which made us think -how near we were to all we held dear. That line was connected with -headquarters, headquarters with Tokyo, Tokyo with New York and -London. I suddenly saw myself ringing up the editor to catch an -edition. - -“Hello! just arrived at the Eternal Dragon. Quiet this morning. -Russian sortie last night. Repulsed. One Japanese, eighteen -Russians lost--three wounded between the lines calling for -water----” - -“Hold on, what’s that?” - -“Wait a minute till I stop this infernal racket.” Down with the -receiver. To the Colonel: “Can’t you stop that battery a minute? -I’m at the ’phone.” - -“All right, editor. Wounded man says--Hold on a minute. It’s that -blasted volley firing. All right. I was saying, a wounded--Hell, -here comes a shell!” - -We turned another corner and came upon the commander of the -regiment--a lieutenant-colonel, stern-faced, with that eternal -smile, a countenance nationally characteristic. He welcomed us to -his shelter between two walls--which the Russians had built and -which our shells destroyed. His staff--a captain and a major--sat -crosslegged on one side. We sat on a red-blanketed bench on the -other. Crosslegged, on his red blanket, he was no better fitted -than his men. At his side on a nail hung his sword and cap. Behind -him suspended from two wires was the regimental flag, in a plush -case. It is 30 years old, has been in 18 battles, and is all but -gone from bullet fire. To the regiment it is a sacred emblem. This -is the illustrious Seventh Regiment which captured the Eternal -Dragon, after losing all but ten per cent. of its number and -which now, after a month with the reserves when its ranks were -replenished, is back for a week on sentry duty. So intense is the -service there, one week in four is all a single regiment can stand. -We were served with tea in daintily lacquered cups and then the -lieutenant-colonel passed saké and tea, asking permission to drink -our health. - -[Illustration: - - _Copyright, 1905, by Collier’s Weekly_ - -THE LAST WORD - -An officer giving final instructions to his men before the Grand -Assault of September 21. This photograph was taken in the front -parallel, 300 yards from the Cock’s Comb Fort.] - -“Where is the Colonel?” I asked the officer. Then he apologized -again. He was sorry he couldn’t oblige me, but unfortunately the -Colonel had been killed about twenty yards from where I then -sat. His body had been cremated within three paces of my present -seat. Just beyond the tent I could see his grave, should I look. -I leaned out and in a niche of the wall saw a plain white stick -ideographed in black. At the base was a bottle of flowers and a -Chinese pumpkin. It contained the ration a soldier calls “iron,” -and some sweetmeats beside a can of water. Then we knew what some -living soldier had done. The ghost might come wandering back in the -night and be hungry. It should not suffer. We went on to more tea -with the new live Colonel and some sweetmeats which we utilized -differently than the ghost had evidently utilized his. “How was he -killed?” I asked. Then we heard the story of the capture of the -Eternal Dragon. - -“It was a hot August afternoon,” said the officer, our interpreter, -“and the general of this division, a very determined man, resolved -that the time had come to pierce the Russian center. So he chose -the Seventh Regiment for the honor. It is the regiment to which -the young Captain, wounded, and rescued by the Russian prisoner, -of whom you were talking this morning, belonged. The Colonel made -his plan of attack to have his command advance in three battalions, -one on each flank and one in the front, the flanks to be the real -attack, the front to be a feint. He, himself, commanded the feint, -and, as usual, stayed in the rear. He sent his pioneer corps ahead -to cut the barbed wire entanglements. They came back with the -report of electric charge. They went forward again with insulated -pincers and the regiment followed. All the way to the base of the -hill, where we now are, they were almost unmolested, when they had -expected to meet a fierce shell fire. This made them confident. -But the Russian general, as we afterward learned, had ordered his -men to reserve their fire till we got within close range, and then -to give it to us with machine guns. So the two side battalions got -safely well up to the slope, only to meet a terrible rain of steel -from the top. The aim was so sure and the firing so heavy that -nearly two-thirds of the command was mowed down at once. And the -surprise we found was in their construction of the fort. Where we -supposed our shells had opened gaps in it, we found it intact and -our assaulting party unable to gain foothold, for the Russians had -placed boiler plates under two feet of earth and the shells had had -little or no effect on it. - -“When the Colonel learned all this he got mad, and instantly -ordered the third Battalion to assault the front in force. He -led the charge. A few of the men got in and fought hand to hand -with the Russians. By that time another regiment had arrived with -reinforcements, charged through the breach and overwhelmed the -Russians, driving them out of the place. Though we are dominated -by six of their batteries and have been assaulted by them eighteen -times in attempts to recapture, we have ever since held it. -The Colonel’s body was found under a heap of slain. In it were -twenty-four bullet holes. His sword was broken at the hilt. His cap -was missing and we searched for it a long time without success, -until one day our lookout spied it between the lines. Certain death -seemed the price for a man to try to get it, but as soon as the -Colonel’s servant, a soldier, learned where it was, he volunteered -and succeeded one dark night in regaining it, so the cremation -could take place properly. If you wish now, follow the Captain into -the fort and you will see the foremost trenches. Keep your heads -low.” - -Then we saw the kitten become a tiger. We passed from the -hospitable soldier, with his sweetheart’s letters, his welcoming -smile, his innocent and friendly telephone, his harmless tea and -cakes, to the firing line, to death, and to worse than death. - -It was hands and knees into the fort and the front trenches. This -is the tip of the bloody angle, with the enemy on three sides. -Bullets passed over us continually. Shells were bursting far -away. Twice we passed half ruined chambers built of timber below -ground--Russian food and ammunition shelter. It was high noon. At -length we lay, panting, under a pile of sapling poplars; above us -were sand bags six deep. - -“We are perfectly safe here,” said the officer, and we looked out. - -“Except from ricochet bullets,” added Villiers. “The zone of fire -of those chaps yonder is away from us and as long as they exchange -we’re all right. Shells can’t reach us, even shrapnel would be -nullified by this covering, but when those bullets strike a stone -no one can tell how they will come. They can shoot around a corner -from a flat stone as easily as in the open through a loop-hole.” - -I heard nothing. Standing up, secure, my eyes came upon him -suddenly--the soldier of the Emperor, the boy who does the -trick--at work. He was crouched under the parapet in front, rifle -to cheek, its steel nose through a loophole, his finger on the -trigger. The tensity of his muscles and his eyes glancing down -that barrel in deadly aim made me think of nothing but a great cat -pausing for a spring. One leg was drawn up, his cap was pulled down -viciously over his eyes, the sun beat upon him and he lay, venomous -with pent-up passion, cut in silhouette against the trenches, a -shade darker than the shale. A minute before he had offered me tea -and a cigarette; now he was dealing out hot lead. Yet, who could -suspect danger, with all so still and clear! But life most intense -and death the most terrible and swift dwelt all about us. Through -chinks in the wall a row of sand bags on a mound of earth could be -seen. They marked the Russian trenches behind which the enemy lay -as silent and deadly as the boys on our side. Not a minute passed -without its bullet. Forty meters was the distance, the officer -said, the closest place in the whole ten-mile front of the two -armies. By day, when the Russians stay quiet, sentries stand three -yards apart, by night, shoulder to shoulder. They are changed every -thirty minutes so intense is the strain. A regiment can stay in the -fort only seven days because the Russians are above and on three -sides, and they must keep them out, while they stew in their own -juice and their comrades rot beyond the wall. When a sortie is made -neither side asks for quarter nor expects it. The Russians know -that unless they regain their trenches they will not live, for to -be wounded and fall in the bloody angle means slow death where -no aid can come; to meet the Japanese line means instant death. -The Japanese know their chances, if wounded, are the same, and if -they reach the Russian lines they accept only two things--victory -or death. So it is that here through long weeks the siege has -concentrated its bitterest essence, living has come to be a burden -and death a joy. - -Then came the thud of a bullet. It was a different thud from any -we had had up to that time, and though I had never before heard a -bullet strike flesh, I could not mistake the sound. It goes into -the earth wholesome and angry, but into flesh ripping and sick with -a splash like a hoof beat of mud in the face. - -I turned to look. I saw the nearest sentry sinking to his knees. -His rifle had dropped and was leaning against the wall, butt down. -He sank together all in a heap and his head hung limp, his chin -against his breast. - -“Poor chap,” said Villiers, “he was looking at us and got in -front of the loop hole. I suppose we are so great a novelty in -his strained existence that he could not resist the temptation to -neglect his duty for a minute.” - -We crawled back and out silently and quickly, bade a hurried -good-by to the Colonel, hastened past the smiling, oblivious -men--they are used to it--and over a mile and a half of chipmunk -burrow. The General was waiting tiffin for us in his tent. There -was a jar containing strawberry jam like grandmother used to -make. With a flash it brought back all the comforts of home. An -empty shell in the center of the table held some field daisies -and wild chrysanthemums. All the fragrance of the fields and the -beauties of nature came with them. At my mess plate lay an American -newspaper, just delivered by this incomprehensible field post. With -it civilization, its myriad passions and joys, floated in. As the -cigars were passed I opened the paper. I found an interview with -Dr. Nicholas Senn, of Chicago, in which he said: - -“All the talk of inhumanity which some correspondents are sending -out from the Orient is foolish. Statements of soldiers being -wounded in the mouth and reports of all similar acts of atrocity -can be set down as being without foundation. Russia has the best -Red Cross Society in the world and the Russians are an extremely -humane people. Likewise, this war is going to be a humane war. As -for the Japanese, the worst that can be said of them is that they -are a proud people.” I read this aloud. It was translated and the -officers, Lieutenant-General Oshima and his staff, listened. None -of them replied. Finally Villiers said: - -“The question is not: Are the Japanese or the Russians a humane -people, or not a humane people? It is: Are individual men, under -conditions the most terrible the imagination can devise, Christians -or savages? Both Japanese and Russians socially are delightful -people. I’ve lived with the armies of both nations and their -soldiers are delightful and humane. But that is not the question. - -“Now, is it possible for soldiers living as we saw them to-day--in -their own filth, unable to succor the wounded, preyed on by -stenches from the dead, until battle in which they neither ask nor -give quarter is a welcome relief--can the word ‘humane’ be uttered -in speaking of lives such as theirs? Or can it be uttered of the -Russians--driven into a trap, half-starved, night and day in the -trenches, confronted by overwhelming numbers, with certainty of -no relief, yet defending a lost hope with lives easier lost than -lived? Would you be ‘humane’ under such conditions? I am sure I -would not. - -“No. The truth about war cannot be told. It is too horrible. The -public will not listen. A white bandage about the forehead with -a strawberry mark on the center is the picture they want of the -wounded. They won’t let you tell the truth and show bowels ripped -out, brains spilled, eyes gouged away, faces blanched with horror. -The only painter fellow who ever told the truth about war was -Verestchagin, poor chap, drowned over there in the harbor. He in -paint and Zola in words told the truth and they were howled down -and ostracized all their lives, simply because the theorists, like -this surgeon, fed up with themselves, nursed in the belief that -science is all powerful, will always assure the public that modern -war is humane. - -“Scientific warfare! Let me tell you the facts about science. -Archibald Forbes predicted twenty years ago that the time would -come when armies would no longer be able to take their wounded -from the field of battle. That day has come. We are living in it. -Wounded have existed--how, God alone knows--on that field out -there, without help, for twelve days, while shell and bullets -rained above them, and if a comrade had dared to come to their -assistance his would have been a useless suicide. The searchlight, -the enginery of scientific trenches, machine guns, rifles point -blank at 200 yards with a range of 2,000--these things have helped -to make warfare more terrible now than ever before in history. - -“Red Cross societies and scientific text-books--they sound well and -look pretty, but as for ‘humane warfare’--was there ever put into -words a mightier sarcasm!” - -This was translated. The officers--Lieutenant-General Oshima and -three of his staff--listened, gravely. No one said anything. -Finally, we walked home silently as the sun went down. - - - - -Chapter Fourteen - -SCIENTIFIC FANATICS - - -Noon found me well up toward the firing line, assured by the -staff that it would be the day of days. To get there I passed a -mile and more of batteries--the Osacca guns vomiting balls of -fire, puff-balls of smoke and fat, heavy balls of steel; the -howitzers--coyotes of artillery--spitting from peaks, snapping, -louder than the monsters growl below; the naval six-inch turret -firers, rakishly sunk in valleys, their greyhound noses dappled -with mud, baying out reverberations at which even the sulking sun -might have shuddered; the field four-point-sevens, bag-redoubted, -conventional as pictures, flinging forth the business barks of -house dogs; then, finally, the hand one-pounders, hauled well up -the parallels, their bodies angled half-wise and as forlorn amid -such colossal music as a penny whistle before a symphony orchestra. -To be in it, to pass through it, to feel this whiz and boom people -the air above with demon gossip, to sniff from ravines the gusts -seeped with cordite and with phosphorus, while in the far-stretched -vistas bluecoat files wind through the fierce, vain taunts hurled -in among them--ah, this is the atmosphere--the grand, the fearful, -the unspeakably sublime atmosphere of war. - -Cloudy! Yes, but what day could smile in the face of such a row -as this? The grand bombardment has been on for five days. We call -it the “grand” bombardment, to distinguish it from that other -trifling bombardment of a few hundred field guns that was on for -nearly three months. Now the big coast defense mortars from Osacca, -hurling shells the size of donkeys, are ripping the lining from the -doomed fortress. We cry for rest, but there is no rest. Night and -day the fearful din keeps up. The paper windows of the Manchurian -house where we live, two miles away, have been blown out twice by -concussions. The mountains tremble. If you get within a hundred -yards of the guns, you must wear cotton batting in your ears and -walk tiptoe to save ear-drums. This for a ten-mile front, with -infantry and regular artillery hammering the spaces out, was enough -to discourage the sun. Sun, however, is an incident. War waits for -no weather. - -Halfway in among the batteries I paused for guidance. There were -certain lines between our batteries and the Russian batteries which -were called “lines of fire,” and these lines were good places to -avoid. Soon two soldiers, each with a rice bag on his back, came -along, and I picked up their trail. There was a narrow valley which -led to the Ninth Division, whose firing line was to be the center -of the attack and for which I was bound. Along the center of this -valley seemed to me the right way, but the soldiers headed straight -across it, business-like, stolid, as if they knew where to go, and -I followed. We were fair in the midst of it then. In ravines on -both sides the Osacca mortars were hid. From behind and directly -over our heads a naval battery was firing, and in front of us -there were four or five batteries of field artillery, opening the -engagement. There was never a moment without two or three shells -in the air directly over our heads. So long as they were friendly -shells--imagine a shell being friendly!--no one seemed to mind. -(That “seemed” is a good word to describe my state.) But directly -they came viciously from across the valley--look out! Presently one -did come that way. I knew it was coming. How? I felt it. So the -ground in front found my stomach and my nose sniffed the gravel. -It could not have passed very far above our heads--this shell--for -when it exploded behind the dust showered over us, and I thanked -myself for lying down, else a fragment might have rapped me so I -would have cared nothing for dust or dirt of stale encampments. Of -course, the soldiers must have lain down, too--they surely must -have known the danger. I looked up to laugh with them, but they -were trudging on stolidly, as if they were carrying a pound of meat -home from the butcher’s. When the dust came they blinked--that was -all. I was so ashamed I hardly dared show myself; yet I needed my -legs to get on out of the line of fire, and there are times one -forgets his pride. I ran; but no need to be ashamed; they had not -seen me fall, had neither quickened nor lessened pace, had turned -not so much as an eyelash to left or right. They had orders to -take that rice to the battery, and to the battery they were going. -So I paused--amazement surviving fear--and looked at them, cogs -of the machine, secret of an army’s strength, of its indomitable -bravery. As well expect the shafts of an engine to cry quits when -the trucks spring a hot box! - -At length I found myself where the pewit of bullets beat a -quickstep for the inferno aloft. It was on the crest in front of -the farthest field artillery, at the rear of the parallels in which -the infantry lay, huddled masses of blue dabbed above with glints -of bayonet steel, waiting for the assault. Occasionally the sun -came out and sent a heliograph message from those bayonets to me, -and then, like myself, sought cover again. The four forts slated -for attack by the two divisions in my view lay directly in front, -about a mile and a half by parallels and approaches, but, as my -vision went, eight hundred yards for the nearest, fifteen hundred -for the farthest. From the rear that assorted pack of war-dogs -flung suspense and agony, surprise and death, over my head. Beyond, -the forts, hung like a corona of barbarous gems on the brow of the -mountain range, gushed forth pain and disgust. - -The Pine Tree fort (Shodzuzan) on the extreme right was afire, had -been for two hours, and the smoke from it, blown by a northwest -wind, lifted raggedly square across the field. Through the slight -haze each explosion opposite could be seen, as it tore out, now -a chunk of a mountain and now a crater from a parapet. About -half-past twelve the star bomb chamber of the south battery, the -one nearest, was struck, and for ten minutes an explosion of day -fireworks held the line. On the north battery two guns hung across -the parapet, their backs broken, useless. On the two smaller forts -between, the P and M redoubts, men could be seen feverishly working -at a rear intrenchment. Evidently they were preparing to retire -from the front line, where they already scented danger. But they as -evidently showed determination to fight to the last ditch--which -they did. All four of these forts, spread fanwise halfway down this -mountain slope, formed the group called the Cock’s Comb (Keikan, -Japanese; Keekwan, Chinese), and above them on the skyline the -comb could be plainly seen, lacking only the dab of red, later -to be given its approaches, to give it the cock color. It was on -the Cock’s Comb that half of the great losses in August occurred. -Some ten thousand Japanese had already been mowed down there, for -every slope was prepared for enfilading by two batteries, the moats -were deep, the fortifications of masonry and the glacis sheer -and slippery. Yet the Cock’s Comb once taken, the Russians must -yield, for it was to the siege of Port Arthur what Nanshan was to -the campaign--the decisive position. Once driven from there, the -enemy’s back would be broken. The fall of the Cock’s Comb and the -Two Dragons, on December 31st, forced Stoessel’s surrender. - -[Illustration: - - _Copyright, 1905, by Collier’s Weekly_ - -PREPARING FOR DEATH - -A superstition holds that the Japanese soldier who dies dirty finds -no place among the Shinto Shades; so before going into action every -soldier changes his linen, as this one is doing, preceding the -battle of October 29.] - -At one o’clock the bombardment seemed to have reached a climax -of intensity. The parapets of the four forts were alive with -bursting shrapnel. A hundred a minute were exploding on each (at -fifteen gold dollars apiece). The air above them was black with the -glycerine gases of the mortar shells, and the wind blowing toward -the sea held huge quantities of dust. Timber splinters were in the -air and rocks were flying. Not a fort replied, and from the -entire eight-and-one-half-mile front of the Russian line there were -few answers. Once about every ten minutes a wheezy battery off on -the Liaotishan Peninsula sent a shell promiscuously into our vast -field, apparently to show that the defense was yet at least gasping -for breath. - -In the front parallels the infantry seemed on the move. There was -a shifting of rifles, and in three of them, from end to end, a man -could be seen running. The night before I had been up there to find -all of the soldiers changing their linen and sponging themselves -off as best they could with old towels and soiled handkerchiefs. -They were purifying themselves for death. A superstition as old -as Japan says that a man who dies dirty finds no place among the -Shinto shades. Now they were waiting calmly, each with an overcoat -and spade across his back. Why the spade? Will it be necessary -to hastily intrench for the night far up the slope? Each had an -“iron” ration in his pocket, and a pint of cold tea in his flask. -Two hundred rounds of ammunition in his three leather pouches go -to help the bayoneted rifle that he slings by its strap, its butt -dragging as he goes up the hill. What a job it is, this, of living -in a pocket handkerchief, on compressed air, giving and receiving -death, for three cents a day! - -At one-fifteen our fire changes. The four forts are left to their -silence and devastation, and the fat balls travel westward to the -Pine Tree and the Two Dragons. For a moment the slopes stand out, -ghastly with smoke, pitted like strawberries, each pit a shell hole -deep enough to give a man shelter. - -Before anyone knows it the assault is on. The four get it at once. -From the bottom of each, out of the approach sapped there in the -night, a handful of men is fed, as corn might drop, grain by grain, -ground from a hopper. They get a few rods up when another handful -is fed, then another, until the whole face of the hill is swarming -with tiny figures, their blue turned in the distance to black, the -space between each at no place less than two yards, at none more -than two rods. Not in battalion phalanx, as the picture books show, -shells dismembering, arms thrown aloft, faces wild with battle’s -glory, terror, agony, but steadily, sanely seeking every cover, -deploying with skirmish formation, they go on and up, into the jaws -of death, into the mouth of hell. Not a life is thrown away, not a -precious head wasted. - -Not fifty yards up the Russian lookout scouts them, and then we -see we are not facing a beaten foe, but a waiting one. Until that -moment no sound came from the enemy. No shells chucked away at -hidden batteries, no rifle ammunition plumped into the sandbags of -parallels, no shrapnel sent hit-or-miss over the fields searching -for an unseen foe--not any of that stupid, wild game for them. -They have let the preparation go on, all the fuss and fury, the -bombardment, the sapping, and now we see what they are up to. It is -all hit with them, no miss, they have no ammunition to waste. Their -backs are to the wall. Their defense is determined, great. Deadly -purpose is in that silence. - -The sun is out for a moment, the smoke has lifted. Through my -glass I see it all as perfectly as though on a chessboard; the -sprawling blue ants creeping up, rifle-butts dragging, the line -officers ahead, the field behind. Far in advance of the squad on -the P fort a young lieutenant is running, carried out of himself -in passion, foolish in zeal, waving his sword. Almost fifty yards -behind him, his nearest file-sergeant lumbers stolidly on, as -stolidly as my two companions of the morning lumbered with their -bags of rice. At that moment they meet what they changed their -linen for the night before. From all the Russian batteries, from -silent nooks, from huge, open emplacements, from mountain recesses, -from the entire line of parapets, it comes--the Russian reply. So -here is the why of that previous ghostly silence. Every shot must -tell. Bursts directly above send vitreous blue shoots of smoke -as of strata sidewise, then curl voluminously upward, the edges -unfolding to the breeze; the deadly shrapnel downward shooting bits -of lead and steel. Enfilading from all crests, over the shoulders -of the slopes, come shells, plowing the ground, hurling stones and -fragments. From above rattle the Nordenfeldts and Maxims, spraying -bullets into the advancing ants as kerosene is sometimes sprayed -from a hose nozzle on the tribe of real pests. - -It was to be expected. Not a man lives. The fire ceases. They -all lie prone--some hid in the shell holes, some lost in the -gullies, some face down bare on the open sand. Most of them lie -lengthwise, their heads upward, shot apparently as they stumbled -forward. On the second slope in one place the legs and trunk of -a man are sprawled, armless, headless. An entire shell must have -met him halfway. Occasionally the figures are huddled, piteously -deprived of action, sending upward the silent, unanswerable appeal -that death makes. But most of them have that curious upward slant, -bodies rigid, as of determined men hugging the ground. Were they -bulleted straight? Anyway, it is a glorious death--this of the -infantry soldier storming Port Arthur, lifted on the crest of the -world’s fiercest passion, puffed into vapor as the crest of a -storm-tossed wave! Painless, too. A touch and all is over. But can -they all be dead, all of those figures slanted curiously upward? -There must have been remarkable sharpshooters above to pick every -man off, for shells are notoriously extravagant of bravado and -bluff. - -Ten minutes pass--fifteen--twenty--and only the giant shells -wheezing through the sky to distant, unseen marks remind one that -here is indeed a battlefield. - -Then suddenly those figures with the curious upward slant come to -life. Another handful of war corn is fed from the human hopper -below. The young officer waves his sword. The line-sergeant -stolidly climbs. The deploying lines curl their microbe grip more -firmly into the slope. There was a hitch in the machine. Now it -moves, slow, inexorable. - -The piteously huddled figures remain. The comrades go on, with -never a look down, never a look behind, half-stooped, rifle-butts -dragging, laboring with the terrific climb. Ten paces from the -fresh start, and that hail of bursting steel meets them again. They -struggle on, perhaps a hundred feet, perhaps a hundred and fifty, -then commence dropping one by one, by the dozen, fifteen at a time, -two by two. They rest again. Again the time drags. Again the fresh -start, with more piteously huddled figures. So it goes, the hopper -below supplying every loss. - -At length the young officer pauses. Just for a moment he lingers -and then digs his boots into the crater that one of those friendly -shells tore out for him an hour before. Without waiting for his -men, fifty yards beyond the nearest, he leaps to the parapet, reels -for an instant on the skyline, then plunges out of sight. I never -see him again. What must have been his fate inside there, alone, -before his men came up? Was he shot down as he entered? Did he keep -the Russians at bay till his supports came up? Dear, foolish boy, -did you think that, single-handed, with that bit of toy steel, you -could take Port Arthur? - -It seems ages and ages before the line-sergeant and his deploying -figures leap to the skyline, reel for an instant, and disappear. -The grist from the hopper below hastens and the rifle-butts spring -from ground to shoulders. It was the first man who was needed. Now -that the charm is broken, they no longer skulk, but run eagerly to -the crater and tumble in. The hopper has fed well-eared corn into -the mill, and it has come out ground meal. The grits lie scattered -all along the slope. Some move. The most lie still, their battle -with cold nights in exposed trenches finished, sentry duty done. -And in many a thatched cot among the rice paddies across the sea -the old hataman will tell to his gray wife how their boy helped -take Port Arthur, and both will make a little journey to the sacred -mountain to assure the fathers they are thankful to have bred brave -stock. - -At a quarter-past one the young lieutenant started on his mad -errand, supported by the same mechanism. At a quarter-past two -the flag of the Rising Sun floated from both north corners of the -P fort. At a quarter-past three the stretcher-bearers are on the -slope searching among the huddled figures. They move swiftly along, -turning a figure over, giving it a quick look and dropping it with -business precision; to another, dropping it; to another, pausing, -out with the lint, perhaps the hypodermic needle, perhaps a sip -from the tea flask, the arms of one bearer hastily passing under -the arms of the figure of the other under the knees, dropping it -on the stretcher, passing in and out among the shell holes, down -the hill, while back on the slope the carrion figures lie with the -slant of the setting sun struggling through the clouds to flash -over the bayonets beside them! - -Meanwhile, over the rest of the vast field, of which the P fort -was but a fragment, the assault had been continuing. The Russian -fire had not abated. As soon as they saw the P fort was gone they -turned their shells into the redoubt itself, and cut up our forces -where they were seeking cover in the very places their own shells -had previously destroyed. But the slopes of the other three forts -were kept just as hot as in the beginning. The moment the thin line -advanced, that moment the hail commenced, and it ceased only when -the line ceased; nor did it entirely cease then, for shrapnel was -dropped above the forms, those huddled and those lying curiously -straight. - -Suddenly, on the farther slope, where near a battalion of men had -crawled almost two-thirds of the way up the glacis, a panic seemed -to have seized them. The whole crowd ran down and to the right. -They disappeared over the scruff of the hill, toward their own -trenches, brushed off as a handful of flies might be blown away -from a heel of bread. The cowards! to run like that when their -comrades are valiantly struggling up the nearer heights! - -But no. It is not a panic. Halfway to their trenches they all drop -into the ground. Shell holes and gullies swallow them up. As they -disappear the scruff of the hill from which they ran is blown into -the air, the flame shooting from the center of the rocks and dirt, -and the white smoke rising above. A mine has gone off there. - -The pioneer ahead found the contact signal--clever fellow--ran back -to the advance officer, who led his men in their retreat. So it was -not a panic, but a well-ordered movement. Soon the advance goes on, -up the nearer angle of the slope, the men deploying carefully as -before, the hell shooting down from above, the hopper feeding from -below. So I learn to criticise nothing on a field of battle. Who -but the commanding officer can ever disclose motives? Not a word of -authentic news leaks from this place. Once the citadel is down, say -the generals, let criticism rage. Port Arthur will have been taken. -Meanwhile, let us have silence, concentration, determination! - -Then, under the middle parapet, I find a squad of men hanging, -having survived the ordeal below. With no leader so headstrong as -the young officer, they halt for supports to go in and capture the -fort, for they are but twenty, or at most thirty. No supports come. -The shrapnel plays over them, the bullets rain through. - -Into the crater torn on the parapet of the fort opposite by one of -our Osacca shells, and which with an enfilading fire can command -the squad, there marches a company of Russian soldiers, four -abreast. The hole accommodates four at a time, and they stand as if -on parade, an officer to the left rear, his sword drawn, giving the -word of command. Still farther in behind is another officer, pistol -in hand, holding the men to their work. They order arms, prepare, -aim, fire, wheel to the left, defile, the next squad takes their -places, and again comes this drill in manual of arms. A splendid -sight; men in the crux of action as if on parade; an object lesson -for discipline to the whole Russian army. The Japanese need no -such object lesson. Each man is an individual, though he is part -of the machine; he has a brain to think, eyes to see, legs and -arms to act. Just below the firing squad, within twenty yards, a -company of our boys has crawled up and is lying face down waiting -for the word to make the final charge. Hid by the angle of the -parapet, neither squad nor company sees the other, and the Russians -above fire directly over the heads of the Japanese below into the -assaulting party on the opposite slope, distant some four or five -hundred yards. When the last four have emptied their rifles, the -crater becomes again black with emptiness. Evening is falling. The -assaulting party creeps on up. - -Under the parapet of the north battery, where the forsaken squad -was left, I now see the why of the inaction. The twenty or thirty, -in half an hour, have thrown up a shallow trench. So this is the -meaning of the spade that each man carries at such cost, up those -terrific heights. They are fixing themselves for the night. Under -cover of darkness the supports will come up, and before dawn -the way from valley to parapet will be entirely protected with -trenches, so that a whole regiment can be poured up for the final -assault without losing a man. As the price of it on the slope there -lie thousands of huddled figures. - - - - -Chapter Fifteen - -JAPAN’S GRAND OLD MAN--AN INTERLUDE - - -The Itos are the Smiths of Japan. There is one President of the -Privy Council, one the chief naval authority and head of the naval -board. There are two generals named Ito and statistics alone know -how many private soldiers are thus made still more common. The -Asahi to-day told of an Ito hanged for a triple murder. In the -adjoining column account was made of another Ito decorated by the -Portuguese government. The reason, not stated, was that the king -of that decrepit monarchy, wishing to assimilate some stray rays -of good fortune from this rising sun, chose three men in Japan on -whom to bestow his ribbons of mark. These were the Emperor, the -Emperor’s son and an old man by the universal name of Ito. - -A strange circumstance permitted me to ride for an hour one morning -in a railway coach with this other Ito--the only Ito. Ambitious -of that smartness which can save where any simpleton can spend I -procured a second-class ticket from Yokohama to Tokyo, a run that -covers some twenty-eight miles in twice as many minutes. The ticket -cost fifty-three sen, and as the rate of exchange for American -gold here now is 213 you will see that the ride cost less than a -quarter. I could have gone first class for seventy-four sen, or ten -more American cents--hardly worth the saving. Still, it is more -interesting second class. Only foreigners, and Japanese who ape -foreigners, ride first class. - -Japanese railway coaches are of three classes. It is not necessary -to experience the third to know it. A look is enough. Red, like the -emperor’s, they are the antithesis of imperial. Only in an imperial -land, dyed in the ancient belief that certain men are by birth -superior to other men, could these third-class coaches exist. They -are for the common people. Small as the dummy cars of an intramural -railway they are boxed off in sections similar to continental -compartments. These are loaded with as many of the riffraff as the -station guards can crowd in. Hard seats and plain company with -transportation at the mere cost of hauling is the rule there. The -fare is thirty sen (fifteen cents). The government, which owns the -railway, conducts its business on the theory employed by Japanese -merchants--sell to the poor at cost and let the rich pay the -profits. - -The difference between the first and second class is twofold. One -is the color--white for the first class, blue for the second. The -accommodation is just the same--leather and plush upholstering of -seats plenty large enough, with washstand, toilet and drinking -water handy and clean midway of the car. The chief difference is -sociologic, tinged with political, economic and moral degrees. -First class is for the nobility, second for the bourgeoisie. Though -the first-class carriage is lawfully open to anyone possessing -seventy-four sen, no second-class Jap ever dares aspire to it. -So secure are the officials in the _morale_ of the people that -tickets are never examined. You show your pasteboard at the gate -as you enter the platform at the beginning of the journey, again -as you leave the platform at the end, but not on the train. A -third-class fare could easily ride in a first-class coach. No one -but a foreigner would ever think of this. I tried it one day and -succeeded, getting seventy-four sen worth of nobility for thirty -sen. It is an axiom that all foreigners are noble; hence all -foreigners should travel first class. Some day Japan will really be -civilized. - -This morning the first-class coach was filled with London tiles -and Paris frocks, all silked and diamonded. It was the day of the -imperial garden party and all foreigners of note in Yokohama were -on their way to the palace in Tokyo. There was a crush of German, -French and English. I detected one pair Castilian in suavity of -accent. All were agog with gossipy gayety. The men, sleek on -Oriental dining as fresh pork packers, plumped seats unusually -commodious quite full of broadclothed avoirdupois. The women were -agush with scents, mowed from the four quarters. Feminine with -suggested lingerie, they left the men to the papers, for the London -mail was just in, and toasted some stale diplomatic scandal whose -drift I vainly strove to get. Between silk tiles and be-birded -bonnets there was not a vacant seat left in the first-class coach. - -I found a seat in the rear of the second-class coach, which was -but half filled. The occupants were Japanese, evidently business -and professional men of note, perhaps fifteen all told. Except -for the complexions, the upward slant of the eyes and the uniform -small stature they might have passed for the occupants of the nine -o’clock car downtown any American morning. The dress was the same, -the average of intelligence the same. Before I began my paper I -studied each face. The Japanese countenance is inscrutable. From -coolie to Mikado exists the same placid, patient, nearly always -alert expression of canny indifference. Before such uniformity, -such hidden power, purpose and weird beginning toothed in the husk -of time the most expert western physiognomist is baffled. The -geography alone of these humanists of hardy strife can be sketched. -Of their history, legends, poesy, knowledge and aspiration little -may be said at the outward glance. - -In the far corner sat a man whose personality attracted with an -unmistakable potency. Sensitive to what psychologists call the -aura, I instinctively felt that he was a person of distinction, -a distinction genuine in that it must be inherent, for nothing -obvious indicated his difference from the other Japanese. He wore -a frock coat which had seen use and a beaver hat, apparently of -English make, as it had a Piccadilly smugness found nowhere else. -None of his countrymen in the car wore cuffs like his, which were -links. The others were old-fashioned in plain roundness. His tie -was ample and of heavy silk, four-in-hand with a certain regality -of flourish. His shoes were wide, short, homely, well-furnished. -Only two items of his apparel were unlike those of anyone else. One -was the pendant from his watchchain, a superb head of polished onyx -on which I could make out the square and compass of the Masonic -regalia. The other was a button the size of an American copper cent -which he wore in his left lapel. It looked like the button of the -Legion of Honor. Later I learned that it was the insignia of the -first-class order of the Rising Sun. Only twenty-two men in the -world have the right to wear that. I also noticed that his left leg -was slightly bent. He appeared to be bow-legged. - -The unknown held a newspaper in front of his face. When the train -had been two minutes out of Yokohama he put the paper down and -looked out upon the landscape. Then I recognized the Marquis Ito, -who was born a poor boy of ordinary family in an imperial land, and -who is now known before the world as the father of the New Japan. - -Some historian has written that the Nineteenth Century produced -four constructive statesmen of the first rank; two--Bismarck and -Cavour--in the west, and two--Li Hung Chang and Ito--in the east. -Another puts him down as the greatest of the four because he is the -most humble. - -Of Ito’s place in history it is not the purpose here to speak. This -is but the record of a chance hour when I saw him this morning -take a second-class carriage to Tokyo that he might escape the -crowd of foreigners whom he doubtless felt would annoy him with -attention, when he wishes to be undisturbed. He has one sure mark -of the prophets, that of being unhonored in his own country. The -people say that he is proud, which is their interpretation of his -aloofness, and that he does things unbecoming a gentleman. By this -they mean his fondness for geisha, which he makes no attempt to -conceal, despising public opinion and thus calling upon his head -that which he despises. He is the antithesis of Disraeli, of whom -Gladstone could say that he was the only public man in England, -unmarried, who could live his maturity without being mixed up with -a petticoat. Ito makes no secret of his feminine promiscuity. - -The Marquis can well afford to ignore public opinion. With what -monarch of what age would he trade places? He has no position, no -titles and no responsibilities. Yet he is the most powerful person -in Japan. He is simply referred to as the chief of the “genro,” or -elder statesmen. What a benign reference! He is general utility -man for the government, and with that self-effacement which marks -the Japanese of whatever station he accepts his duties with as -unswerving a fidelity as the meanest gunner at his post. - -When the Emperor wanted a delicate mission to Korea executed he -sent Ito with absolute diplomatic power. Ito went, conducted the -business with entire success and returned home quietly. He has -political enemies, of course, but these in the great hour of need -stand aside and recognize his voice for what it is, the guiding -genius of the nation. Emperor, ministers and generals come to him -for final advice. He is not bothered with the routine of an office -or the social duties of a position. He lives as obscurely as I saw -him this morning in the second-class coach, yet on such significant -occasions as that presentation by the Portuguese King he is the one -man selected. - -Ito is now sixty-two years old. In this magnificent prime of a -great life he is at one of the ideal positions of all time--the -real dictator of the glorious future of a coming people. What a -contrast to petty jealousies and inefficient systems of western -races, who have so ill disposed of men of similar stamp! At the -same age Bismarck was hurling his thunders of wounded pride from -Friedrichsruhe at the young William. Cavour, momentarily anxious, -was tottering in an insecure seat; Grant, honored by the nations, -had to submit to the humiliation of a defeat at the hands of his -own party; Gladstone, hoary in public service, wavered between the -fires of an outraged public and an obtuse monarch; Cleveland and -Harrison, whose service may be said to compare with that of the -Japanese, at the very moment when their experience, their age and -their disinterestedness would be of most service to the state, are -relegated, like broken horses, to quiet pastures. Ito alone holds -his rightful power--unchecked, supreme at the helm of state where -alone the joy of the soul of such a man can find a vent. - -His appearance! Of the cryptogram of that typical Oriental -countenance only stray ideographs can be learned. Like them all it -is inscrutable. The skin, old and yellow with the impenetrable age -and the hoary toughness of parchment, lay in sleek, well-grained -folds across a dome of brow. The eyes gazed out with reserve, -incisive, mild from a flat setting. The iris--as what Japanese is -not?--was brown-black, the white yellow with the musty haleness of -yellow marble. The look was simple and quiet. Yes. It was profound. -Yet it was alert. - -I realized that I was looking on that which was older than the -saber-toothed tiger or the mausoleums of time, as old as the -riddle of the Sphinx. I was gazing upon the oldest thing in the -world--the spirit of progress. - -When the train reached the last station, Shinegawa, eight minutes -from Shimbashi, which is to Tokyo what the Grand Central station -is to New York, there were but two vacant seats left in the car, -one beside the Marquis, one next myself. Two Japanese entered. -The first was well dressed, foreign style, and, without looking, -plumped into the seat near the Marquis. I was, apparently, the only -one in the car who had recognized the great man. - -The second newcomer was one of those queer specimens of the hiatus -from old to new which may be seen in the streets of the large -cities. He wore the wooden Japanese geta and a half-caste kimono, -but on his head was a dinky derby hat so low in the crown that -the ticket he had stuck in the band was as tall as the hat. He -halted in the door, abashed. Plainly he had taken the wrong coach. -He should have gone third class. He was in a land where caste is -everything and he felt out of his element. His limp attitude told -his embarrassment and even his inscrutable face showed his pain. -But the train had started and he could not get out. - -Marquis Ito touched the man on the arm and pointed out the seat -at the farther end of the car. The poor fellow was only more -embarrassed. He looked like a street tramp who might have stepped -into a Fifth Avenue prayer meeting. At one shrewd glance the -Marquis Ito saw the situation. He rose from his seat, offered it to -the stranger with a simple gesture and himself walked the length of -the car to the vacant place. - - * * * * * - -Know a nation’s great men and you know the nation, says the spirit -of biography. Marquis Ito is to Japan what Count Tolstoi is to -Russia, with this difference: Ito is in power, Tolstoi all but -exiled. You may say that one is a statesman, the other a writer, -and that hence they are not comparable. Yet, each stands before the -world as the most significant intellectual figure among his people. - -There are other differences between the two. Ito is silent, Tolstoi -has a clarion voice; Ito is omnipotent, Tolstoi powerless; Ito -has no ostensible followers, Tolstoi counts his by the tens of -thousands. Again you will say this is the difference not between -men, but between statesman and prophet. Granted. But a curious -fact lessens the force of that truth. Ito and Tolstoi are working -for the same ends. Both seek the enfranchisement of men. The true -difference between them is this: Ito sinks his personality in the -cause he champions, satisfying Tolstoi’s own definition of the -great man as being one too great to tell of his own goodness, while -Tolstoi stalks his stalwart way to the limelight and focuses upon -himself the attention of an age. - -Hundreds have written of Marquis Ito, and the only reason for -writing of him again is that he may thus be seen in some new -light. He is not the only interesting man in Japan, nor the only -great one, but he is certainly a dominating figure which fills -the horizon with a mighty presence. He is not popular. The papers -make only formal announcements of his movements. He passes to and -from his country residence and the Imperial Palace without escort -or demonstrations. He has no official position, Katsura being the -prime minister, except the titular one of President of the Privy -Council, which carries with it neither stated duties nor salary. He -may be easily approached and is seen by all who have the desire. He -is as free from pose as it is possible for man to be. He doesn’t -chop trees like Gladstone or pet great danes like Bismarck or walk -in melancholy solitude like Disraeli. As a picturesque personality -he is disappointing. He is more like Ben Harrison leaving the -White House to practice law in Indianapolis; or, imagine Abraham -Lincoln surviving the war and settled quietly in a side street in -Washington and you will have Marquis Ito as he is to-day. Only add -to that the absolute confidence of an all-powerful emperor and the -support of all politicians, even those of life-long enmity. - -Yet, in spite of seclusion, in spite of a simplicity possible only -to men of the very first rank, Ito charms and holds attention. One -finds traces of him, hears accounts of him, feels his pervading -influence everywhere. When I told of riding in the second-class -coach with him from Yokohama to Tokyo the day of the imperial -garden party, I did not tell of the talk I had with him after he -had given up his seat to the abashed countryman and had taken -one next to mine. After a minute and when I saw that he was not -occupied I had the temerity to say: - -“Your Excellency, I am an American, and as I see you are unoccupied -would be glad if you might say a few words that I could repeat to -my countrymen.” The never-to-be-forgotten way in which he turned -to me replying, “Certainly,” was at once benign and shrewd. There -was something of the fatherly old priest about him. Yet through -his naïve simplicity there shone a canny alertness such as critics -say the French landscapist, Corot, preserved in all his idealist -vagaries. - -The way in which the old statesman interviewed me was masterly, yet -as gracious and lovable as any of the compelling things produced by -any of the artists of these forty million. I had before then been -sent on newspaper embassies to famous interviewers of the west. Of -these J. Pierpont Morgan is of the roughest squeeze, ripping the -marrow from a scribe with one smash of his lion paw. Elihu Root -glances through one like a rapier, gashing incisive questions into -the very pith of the attempt. But you leave such knights of power -and purpose dismayed and disheartened. You have been baffled and -beaten, the door slammed in your face; you have been caught up by -a strong wind and flung blindly to the ground. You need not cry. -It is only the wing of destiny clipping a wee mortal as it hurls -skyward in its flight. - -Not so with Ito. He is all gauzy silk over his shimmering steel. I -left him satisfied, enthusiastic about his priceless simplicity, -jubilant over his grave dexterity, worshipful at his fatherly -equality. Surely, he was a great man worthy of the name. - -What had he told me? Nothing. - -What had I told him? Everything. - -Do not laugh, thinking mine the joy of one self-pleased at his own -prattle. No. It was sheer delight in the knowing of one who towers -above the greatest without conscious effort, and who reaches to the -lowest without condescension. When I shook hands with him I felt -that I had known him all my life. When I saw him into his carriage -ten minutes later I felt that I should call him brother through all -the lives that Buddha promises. - -How did he do it? By flattery? How vain! By subtlety? How futile! -There were a few details of person to note--a slim flex of the -wrist as it dangled majestically across his lap, the weatherly gray -old look of battles fought and conquered and of tempests braved -and won; then always that inscrutable squint of the brown-black -eyes with their yellow whites. For the rest you must seek it in -that alchemy which the world, in spite of poets and prophets -innumerable, seems still to overlook. - - * * * * * - -In the last quarter century the Marquis Ito has made the same -change in his attitude toward the Japanese house of peers that -Gladstone made in his lifetime on the slavery question. In the -beginning he believed--or at least contended--that it should hold -but one allegiance--toward the Emperor. Now he believes that it -should owe a duty to the people, as well. Count Ogura, leader of -the opposing political party, has had the honor of bringing him -around. Ogura from the first has been a stanch democrat. Ito has -been neither imperialist nor democrat; he has been both. Like every -successful constructive statesman he has been an opportunist, -taking things as they existed and improving them as he could. And -he has had as phenomenal a success as any man that ever lived. His -attitude on the peers question alone will illustrate the manner of -his policy. In the beginning he feared to make too great a breach -from the old ways, not sure that either people or peers would stand -it. Slowly he released the old beliefs, educating his countrymen, -by other innovations, to the new. Now when he finds that neither -peers nor populace will stampede at so complete a revolution he -forsakes that consistency which is the weakness of little minds. - - * * * * * - -Again to-day I came across Marquis Ito--his mark. In this Japanese -room made of a roof on pegs, with walls of paper shutters, and -its floor ten blanketed mats, there are three decorations. They -belong to a hotel of the second class. First is a spray of lordly -wistaria, leaning slender and dainty from a majolica vase. Next -is a bronze statue of a Chinese prophet, sword-habited and -tiara-coiffured. The third faces me, leaning above the sliding -paper doors. It is a motto in Chinese characters, two yards long -and a yard wide. At the left end is a signature and below the -signature two seals, one an ochrish yellow, the other vermilion. -For days that motto has stared at me its baffling puzzle. Were it -the conventional lettering of any language but that of the East -I would not be so much concerned. But in the dreamy half light -of evening or in filmy moonbeams these ideographs dance; they -cry aloud; they gesticulate; they demand utterance. Each stroke -is masterly; each separate character a picture--more a poem! I -am haunted by their blazing signals. Are they of appeal, or of -warning, or of blessing? I try to study them out and fancy I -can make a tortoise of the first. The last is a straight dash, -the exclaimer of a prodigious font of type, clasped by two -crossbeams. Perhaps this ideograph shows a man embraced by welcome -arms--appropriate for a bedroom. At last my curiosity bubbles over -and I drag Kato in to translate. - -“It is very difficult to explain the meaning,” he says. “It is -simple to a Japanese, but impossible to a foreigner. The first -character is a tortoise, which to us is the symbol of wisdom -and eternity. The next means to pray. The last shows pilgrims -climbing the sacred mountain, Fujiyama. That straight dash with the -cross-beams is the crater with clouds floating about it.” - -“The motto thus means, ‘Pray that you may be as a tortoise on the -sacred mountain.’” - -“Yes. It means to wish eternal wisdom and happiness to the dweller -in this room.” - -“And the signature?” - -Kato looks again. “Hiburimo Ito,” he spells. “The Marquis Ito.” - -“The Marquis Ito,” I cry. - -“There is only one,” says he. - -“The motto was given by him to the master of this house. See! the -yellow and red seals are his. He did the work himself. This is the -mark of his brush.” - -“Is he a friend of the master?” - -“No. But the master has a friend who came from the same province, -Tosa, in the south. It is called the Statesman Province, for Ogura -and Komura also came from there, while Satsuma in the west, from -which Yamagata, Oyama and Hirose came, is called the Warrior’s -Province. This friend went to school with the Marquis Ito when they -were both poor and now that the Marquis is rich and powerful his -friend asked him for some motto of good fortune. And he was given -this. It is a custom.” - - * * * * * - -The Marquis Ito says but little. Of whatever subjects he speaks he -illumines, and he never hesitates to break into a conversation if -it interests him. Some time ago he rivaled that unknown New Yorker -who achieved fame for a single toast of nine words: - -“The new woman, once our superior, now our equal.” - -It was at a reception and the Marquis interrupted a discussion of -the difference between American and Japanese women to say to an -American: “When I marry I take on a head servant; when you marry -you become one.” - -It was only last week at a banquet that Mrs. Wood, wife of the -United States Military Attaché at the legation here, was asking -Baron Komura, Minister of Foreign Affairs, if it was true that the -Japanese government had made an appropriation to buy back the -heirlooms which needy Japanese of good family had sold abroad. - -“No,” said Komura, “we are too poor. What is gone is gone. It -may be that some private parties are buying them up, but not the -government. I have heard that even some of the temple relics, their -most prized bronzes and lacquers, have gone. The people forsake the -old gods, the priest gets poor, the curio man comes with gold and -away go the musty monuments of centuries.” - -At this moment, with an almost sinister frown the Marquis Ito -interrupted. “What’s that?” he called. The conversation was -repeated. The inscrutable eyes closed, then he opened them with a -squint and said to Mrs. Wood: - -“America can have all the relics Japan has--her bronzes, gilts, -ivories, lacquers, silks, her temples, everything but the land and -the people--for gold. We want American gold.” - -“Couldn’t America buy Japan?” asked Mrs. Wood, playfully. - -The old man mused a while. Finally he said: - -“I have no doubt that America has the enterprise to build a ship -large enough to float our island to the Golden Gate and anchor it -there, but if you do that I bid America beware that we do not annex -her!” - - - - -Chapter Sixteen - -THE COST OF TAKING PORT ARTHUR - - -Port Arthur stood formidable and haughty on the night of February -8th, when Togo first saluted it with his turret six-inchers. That -salute of the shell was lengthy and costly. For ten months it kept -up from nearly seven hundred guns, approximately two hundred and -forty in the navy and three hundred and fifty in the army. Each gun -fired its weight in metal twenty times over. About two thousand -tons of bursting shell went into that proud and mighty citadel, -cordoned with its cunningly hung and ingeniously intrenched forts. -Each firing cost an average of twenty-four gold dollars. Thus -the moneyed treasure hurled against the fortress exceeded thirty -millions. And men--but of the human later. - -What bait lured and what force repelled that money and blood? To -comprehend we must review briefly Port Arthur, its fortification, -and its siege. Nature there was the greatest ally the Russians -ever had. Topographically, Port Arthur was fitted with a defense -that taught tricks to the most skillful engineers. Two ranges of -hills, almost concentric, surrounded the harbor. The crests of -these were broken by a series of successive conical elevations. -Here was a suggestion that the mightiest engineer--an Archimedes -or a Michelangelo--would have seized. The Italians who helped the -Russians in laying out their defenses, taking these concentric -ranges for the primary grand scheme, ran completely about the -city two concentric lines of fortifications. Massive masonry -forts were built on the shoulders of the high summits, and were -connected by continuous defensive works. Hugging the city close, -distant from one thousand yards to a mile and a half, lay the -inner line of permanent defense, whose backbone was an old Chinese -wall, broadened, deepened, and loopholed. Beyond, and filling the -interstices between these forts, were semi-permanent works. The -forts were so related to each other that they gave mutual support. -Each one was dominated by fire from neighboring heights, and it -often happened that the Japanese seized positions, which, though -untenable for the Russians, they were unable to hold themselves. -The slopes of the hills were steep. Also, they were smooth and free -from cover. To rush the works charges had to be made over a broad -glacis, swept by the shrapnel, machine gun, and rifle fire of the -defenders. Should the assault survive the scientific deathtraps -of this danger zone, the valiant few were confronted by massive -masonry parapets, through which they could not force an entrance. - -This wonderful network of fortifications, strong by nature, strong -by virtue of the skill and care with which it had been built, was -distinguished from all previous defensive works by the fact that -here for the first time were used all those terrible agencies of -war which science in the last century has rendered available. There -were steel shields to protect skirmishers, machine guns, smokeless -powder, artillery of high velocity and great range, high explosive -shells, the magazine rifle, the telescopic sight, giving marvelous -accuracy of fire; the range-finder, giving instantaneously the -exact distance of the enemy; the searchlight, the telegraph and -the telephone, starlight bombs, barbed-wire entanglements, and a -dozen other diabolic inventions, the sum of which, allied to this -stupendous fortification of nature by man, enabled the military -authorities of the world to pronounce upon Port Arthur that -superlative word, impregnable. - -Reducing the scale of this fortress, we might see in miniature -its intricate construction if we looked upon the hair-clippers -of a barber. The forts were the teeth, the murderous scientific -apparatus the death blades of this monstrous clipper. For five -months they shaved clean everything that approached them. - -At the beginning of the operations, in the War Office at Tokyo, the -plan of campaign against Port Arthur was laid out as all Japanese -campaigns are laid out--by the General Staff. With a passion for -detail and a mania for precision, the fortress was plotted and the -operations against it mathematically separated into stages. Now -that Port Arthur calls on history for an answer, the exact nature -of this plan, and how rigidly it was adhered to, may be for the -first time disclosed. - -There were to be four stages in the reduction of the fortress. -The work was divided into stages, because the Japanese are so -practical that they must plainly see on paper what they project. -They live by system. They have reduced accomplishment to a problem -of economics. They believe that the most successful man is he who -makes the closest analysis. It was fore-ordained that they would be -successful, for they analyzed Port Arthur. - -[Illustration] - -The first of the four stages laid out comprehended the capture -of the Chinese wall, which is the main line of permanent Russian -land defense on the east, and its protection of twelve forts; -three permanent, four semi-permanent, and three redoubts. The -second stage comprehended the taking of Etzeshan and Anzushan (the -Table and Chair forts), which are considered the keys to the west -defenses, with the lunettes, batteries, and redoubts which formed -their out and in works. The third stage comprehended the capture of -the town of Port Arthur, and the great sea forts located on the -Tiger’s Tail and Golden Hill. The fourth and final stage, in which -it was expected that the desperation of defense would mount to the -height of a fierce guerrilla warfare, comprehended the taking of -the tip of the peninsula, called Liaotishan. - -The first stage was the most vital military move, for once -accomplished it meant the crumbling of the Russian line, though the -defense might linger after that for months. - -The second stage was politically the great essential, for not until -it was well accomplished could the world be told that Port Arthur -had fallen. Through this Chair fort the town was taken ten years -ago, but now it rises so formidably that the Japanese have not even -dared to attack it. It looks like the crater of an extinct volcano, -bulwarked with loose sand at a seventy-five degree angle, so that -on assault men sink to their knees and lie inert under merciless -fire. “203” was but a semi-permanent outwork of this Chair fort, -which dominated it. - -Such was the project. Execution needed only Stoessel and his -defenders to make the plan of the Tokyo War Office precise. They -failed on the defense of the last three stages, so that when the -Japanese accomplished the first stage, Port Arthur fell. Nogi’s -original intention was to pierce the Russian right center through -the line of forts from Keekwanshan and Ehrlungshan, while he -demonstrated on the left, where lie “203” and Etzeshan. He pursued -this plan to the end and was consistent through a bitter, costly -half-year. He planned to enter Port Arthur, through Keekwanshan -and Ehrlungshan, on August 21st. He entered Port Arthur through -Keekwanshan and Ehrlungshan, January 2d--four months and a half -late--but he got there, as he originally planned. - -It was predicted that if the Russian line could be broken at any -one point, the fortress would fall. No one but the mathematical -heads in the War Office took stock in the idea of the four grand -stages. But Nogi and his generals held to the plan by foreseeing -beyond the actual defense, by checkmating it at every point that -might possibly have bearing upon these various stages, and as a -chess player surveys every possibility of defeat, counting on -consummate ability in the opponent. Then they finally got what -they were after, even before they expected it. - -Had Nogi met what his foresight led him to expect--a consistently -determined defense--his capture of Ehrlungshan and Keekwanshan in -the last days of December would have left him only with one-quarter -of his work finished. But as a general giving full credit to his -adversary, he could not count on the Russian failure in the two -vital respects which spelled the final surrender. These two vital -things were ammunition and _morale_. If the Russians had had plenty -of ammunition and had been pervaded, rank and file, with Stoessel -spirit, they would have fought on while they held Anzushan and -Etzeshan, and all of that great chain of forts from Golden Hill -through to Liaotishan. - -The siege of Port Arthur presents many phases--military, political, -ethnical, scientific, spectacular, and dramatic--in short, all the -great vital phases of human life. About the siege of Sebastopol the -libraries hold thirty volumes--about Plevna twenty. Port Arthur -surpasses both. Politically, vaster interests were at stake. In -a military sense the operations were more extensive; so we cannot -hope to cover the ground delved into by hundreds of writers about -former sieges. - -We can but pick the grand salient features that seared themselves -into the memory of the few who lived through it. Of these the chief -is the proof that human tenacity and valor are as great to-day as -at any time in the world’s history. The great guns at Port Arthur -were marvelous. They impressed one with that power seen in a jungle -of elephants, yet they were sensitive and delicate as a little -girl. The battling under searchlights was as grand a spectacle -as the imagination can devise. The ingenuity and precision of -the movements outlined by generals bred in all the duplicity and -culture of the schools, and reared through every vicissitude of -camp and march, were astounding. The ingenious, quiet deviltry of -the engineer puzzled the brain. But all would have been useless -without the private soldier. The boy in khaki--he did the trick. - -And after all the story of Port Arthur has been thrashed out, its -questions settled, that soldier of Nippon, with a calm, plain -face, stamped with the soil, rises supreme, saluting his equally -glorified yokel brother from the Trans-Baikal. - -Shells make a lot of noise and led the hotel correspondents many -miles away to see blood on the face of the moon, but at Port Arthur -their damage was out of all proportion to their cost. Only one out -of four hundred of the Russian shells was effective in the Japanese -camp. It is not likely that more than twice that ratio--namely, one -out of two hundred--would cover the proper statistics of Japanese -effectiveness. Of course, the Japanese had the great advantage of a -plain target. - -Bullets did the harm. There were about forty million discharged -during the five months of the siege, and forty million bits of -steel flying with cutting velocity are bound to hit some hearts in -Japan and other hearts in Russia. The weight of the total number -of men killed at Port Arthur on both sides, if compared with the -weight of the steel sent from the large and small guns of both -armies, will show that the death of every soldier cost his weight -in metal. - -But the deaths were not frightful. It was life that was frightful. -In the contested redoubt of the Eternal Dragon, where the Japanese -drove the tip of their wedge into the Russian right center in -mid-August, and which they held against numberless sorties for -three months, the Japanese soldiers lived in conditions that would -be impossible to men of any other race. The enemy was within forty -yards of them on three sides. Their way back to their base of -supplies was across half a mile of valley, every yard of which -was swept by the enemy’s fire. Few prisoners were taken on either -side. Through the four chief months of the siege only seventy-one -Russians were captured, and the number of Japanese found alive in -Port Arthur at the time of its surrender was less than one hundred. - -There are a few instances on record of mutual devotion between the -enemies, which is vastly heightened by the other frightful record -of mutual unswerving hatred. One day a Russian sergeant appeared -in front of a Japanese trench, bearing over his shoulder a wounded -Japanese lieutenant, whom he had picked up with a shattered leg -under the parapet of one of his own forts. This sergeant had been -on the point of thrusting his bayonet through the brain of the -Japanese lieutenant, when the other man moved, moaned, opened his -eyes, and from his pocket took a bit of biscuit, offering it to the -other. The Russian dropped his bayonet, bound the shattered leg, -hoisted the Japanese to his shoulders, and walked by moonlight that -night to the opposing trenches. - - - - -Chapter Seventeen - -A CONTEMPORARY EPIC - - -That Port Arthur would fall on the 21st of August was believed by -every man in the Japanese army; the island nation was sure of it; -the world thought it certain. And the Japanese did try. They lacked -neither the bravery, nor the numbers, nor the skill. They failed -because Nature stood in their way. Nature built the mountains, -and without the mountains the Russians could not have defended -Port Arthur as they did. The forts were so arranged that each was -commanded by two or three others, and some by ten or twelve. One -taken, the others immediately concentrated fire there and made -it untenable. One thing only could be done--take all the forts -simultaneously. Since there were seventeen permanent, forty-two -semi-permanent, and eighteen improvised fortifications, two miles -of fortified Chinese wall, and a triple line of trenches eight and -a half miles long, defended by a stubborn foe, this was impossible. - -“Impossible?” That is an English word. The Japanese do not -understand it. “You are expected to do the impossible things,” read -the first imperial order their troops received. They have done -impossible things. So have the Russians done impossible things. -The ordeal has raised the story of the siege of Port Arthur into -an epic. Without the perspective of Troy, it has some of Troy’s -grandeur. The glory, to us, is that we have touched shoulders with -an age that has produced men as willing as any ever have been to -fight nobly and die heroically. - -[Illustration: HOME - -The Shack occupied for three months (800 yards from the firing -line) by General Oshima, Commander of the Ninth Division.] - -[Illustration: PLUNDER - -Adjutant Hori, Secretary to General Oshima shown standing amid a -quantity of plunder from one of the captured Forts.] - -Skill and bravery had their value, of course, but to take Port -Arthur a man was needed--a man like Grant, who could fight it out -on one line all summer and all winter. This man was Nogi; with a -face parchment-crinkled, brown like chocolate, with beard gray, -shaded back to brown where it met the skin, so that he seemed a -monotone in sepia, with eyes small and wide apart, perfect teeth, -tiny, regular nose, and a beautiful dome of a head flaring out from -the temples in tender and eloquent curves. He stands five feet ten, -unusually tall for a Japanese, showing the loose power of a master -in his joints and in that mighty jowl shaded by the gray-brown -beard. He has had to weather fierce storms of public indignation -in Japan for two reasons--because he did not take Port Arthur as -scheduled; and because he sacrificed so many lives. Turn over -the pages of our history and read the story of Grant’s campaign -from the Wilderness, through Cold Harbor and Spottsylvania, to -Petersburg and Richmond, and you will read the story of Nogi’s -campaign against Port Arthur. In northern Virginia the mighty -battle-ax cut down the keen Damascene sword. On the Liaotung Thor’s -hammer smashed the straying fasces of an overripe empire. The North -cried out that the man who felt himself an agent of Destiny in -conquering northern Virginia was a butcher; just so Japan cried -“butcher” against the iron man who reduced Port Arthur. - -In 1894 Nogi saw the Chinese besieged and Port Arthur taken by a -feint. He saw the big Japanese demonstration then made against -the front while the bulk of the army slipped along the coast to -the west and south, enveloping the enemy’s left wing and driving -the silly Chinese into a net where they were caught fast under -the great forts, which speedily fell. Again, apparently, the -same strategy was about to be repeated. But instead of making -the real attack in the rear of the Russian left flank, Nogi made -only a demonstration there, where “203” is on the west, and drove -his straight, hard blow into the eastern line of permanent land -defense. To pierce the Russian right center, enfilade its left -flank, and stand Port Arthur on end--this was the plan. Gloriously -it was attempted, gloriously it failed. Regiment after regiment -went in, regiment after regiment went down. Corpses lay eight deep -in the creek which ran red to the sea. - -This grand assault--the first--began August 19th. For seven days -and nights without cessation the battle raged, in the vain endeavor -to pierce that right center. It is said that the Japanese are all -heroes--that none are cowards. Some are also sensible. There was -the Eighth Regiment, which, when ordered in to the assault where -the regiment before it had been swept down, sent back through its -commanding officer the word that the way was impossible. This word -was so new to the Brigade-General that he ordered the regiment -to the rear for fatigue duty, the worst punishment that can come -to Japanese soldiers in an army where there are no guard-houses. -Another regiment, the immortal Ninth, was ordered to cross the -field to the foot of the slope on which lay, dead and dying, many -of the men of the regiment which had gone before. The Colonel, -Takagagi, surveying the task set for his regiment, sent back a -report that it was not feasible. The Brigade-General Ichinobe -replied hotly that one regiment was enough to take one battery. -Takagagi stepped out of the ravine, in which he had been seeking -shelter, at the head of his command. Before, he had been marching, -as colonels usually do, in the rear, while his line officers led -the advance. Now, he leaped forward up the slope, out in front of -his men. A dozen paces from the ravine he fell with four bullets -through his breast. The Lieutenant-Colonel took up the lead and -was shot a few yards farther on. The majors were wiped out. Every -captain but one went down. The last Captain, Nashimoto, in charge -of D Company, found himself, at length, under the Chinese Wall -with seventeen men. Looking down upon the shell-swept plain, -protected for the moment from the sharpshooters above, with that -handful of heroes, a mile and a half in advance of the main body of -the Japanese army, he grew giddy with the success of his attempt. -Of a sudden he concluded that he could take Port Arthur with his -seventeen men. He started in to do it. There was only the wall -ahead--the wall and a few machine-guns--beyond, the city itself--a -five minutes’ run would have brought him to the citadel. He scaled -the wall and fell across it--his back bullet-broken. Eight of his -men got over, scaling the height beyond, called Wangtai or the -Watch Tower, a place to which the Russian generals formerly rode -on horseback to survey the battlefield. On this slope, for three -months, in full sight of both armies, the eight lay rotting. The -Russians referred to them as “The Japanese Garrison.” - -This was the high tide of the advance made in August. Nogi paid a -frightful price to learn his terrible lesson--that he could not so -quickly wipe out a foe thus allied with Nature. The lesson cost him -twenty-five thousand men. After the first ghastly assault he sat -down with his army and went sensibly and slowly at the enormous -task. Instead of storming Port Arthur with his army, he and Kodama -saw that he must dig into it. Realizing that Nogi was sure to pass -into the fortress through the earth where he had failed to enter -above ground, Kodama might well have chuckled as he said that he -held the besieged city in the hollow of his hand. - -Yet both Kodama and Nogi thoroughly realized what they had to -face. The permanent forts of the Russians were built on the -advantageous shoulders that projected two-thirds of the way down -the slopes. The mountains, fortunately for the Russians, were so -situated that, though irregular in detail, yet their line formed -a complete semicircle enveloping the city. Making use of these -natural advantages, they were able to build a grand fortress with -seventeen locks, for every one of which they held the key. The -Japanese might spring one of the locks, but the fortress could -be instantly closed with any or all of the other sixteen. Each -depression between the main shoulders of the mountains was used for -the emplacement of a battery. Batteries and forts were connected -with barbed-wire entrenchments, and the glaces were made sheer and -slippery. Some were formed of concrete, some were built crater-like -of a sliding sand, so that a man advancing found himself slipping -to the knees and quagmired. Around the great forts moats of -unknown depth and width were built. In these moats caponieres were -placed to enfilade daring assaulters. Some of the barbed wire was -electrically charged, so that men attempting to cut it with nippers -were electrocuted. Down the forward slopes of the mountains mines -were sunk in the earth; some were exploded by contact with an -electric button on the surface, others by direct contact from some -tripping man as he passed over the spot. Around two of the forts -torpedoes taken from the ships were buried, and their finlike stems -were turned into contact flanges projecting from the earth. All -these defenses were connected with a network of covered ways; in -two places deep tunnels ran from fort to fort, and from all of the -principal forts back to the Chinese Wall was a deep tunnel. Behind -the wall lay machine guns, the most deadly weapons in modern -warfare, sprinkling bullets as a hose sprinkles water. - -The very names of these forts characterized the forms of the -granite of which they were built and out of which they rose. The -Eternal Dragon, the Two Dragons, the Chair, the Table, the Lion’s -Mane, and that flippant old rooster, who is the grimmest and -sauciest of them all, the Cock’s Comb, stood out defiant in Chinese -hoariness. - -To get across the plain, up the slopes, and into those forts by -digging trenches and tunnels was the problem, and the Japanese were -able to solve it. In those two months one hundred men at a time did -the job, for only that number could work at once in the tunnels. -Often shells found them out; rifle-fire harassed them every hour. -The loss was many companies, but they never lacked the one hundred -to do the work, always by night, always silently; crawling through -the night, pick and shovel in hand, came that antlike hundred, the -individuals constantly varying, as figures in a kaleidoscope where -death is at the handle, but never quitting its terrible task. - -In darkness a company begins its labor in unison. Guided by clever -engineers, the picks advance through the blackness; the shovelers -smartly after. The Russian searchlight swings menacingly to play -upon the little group. A shell hurtles in. A dozen men fall, -some never to rise again. Up with the first aid, down with the -stretchers, to the rear with the victims. Advance another squad--on -goes the hundred. So for two months--and then through the finished -trenches the rest of the army walked impudently in the broad sun, -laughing at those useless bullets singing so saucily overhead. - -The plain lay overripe with harvests, but not a living thing was -on its surface. The autumn sun hung indolent and golden. Blackened -villages were deserted. Among the chain of forts, bristling with -cannon, there lay one with its nearest side completely honeycombed. -All the other forts were silent and bare on their near sides. -That honeycomb was made by the gridironing of Japanese trenches. -Between it and the line of mountains, parallel to the Russians on -the north, the ground was ridged with mounds of fresh earth, as if -some gigantic mole had zigzagged across the plain. From neither -army was there the slightest evidence of life, except that between -the two lay that telltale fresh earth, as though a huge animal had -been busy in the night. Yet, behind the northern parallel range, -the distance of a rifle-shot from the Russians in Port Arthur, -ominously silent, monstrously at work in preparation, was the -Japanese army--siege-mortars cocking their twenty tons of steel on -solid masonry as a Mauser pistol cocks on a man’s fist; monster -naval guns, rakish devils, buried in the earth, with frightful -noses menacing the blue; howitzers perched on peaks; lines of -transport laden with rice and biscuit; hospitals brilliant as the -sunlight and quiet as its stillness; regiments of men receiving -instructions--how to escape beri-beri, how to keep nightdews from -the rifle-barrels, how to bind a fractured leg, how to scupper an -adversary in a hand-to-hand fight--but on the field of battle, -on the opposite sides of which the opposing hosts were held like -hounds in leash, there was nothing human--only silence, beauty, -sublimity. - -From September 19th to the 25th occurred what is known as the -second assault, although it might more properly be described as a -reconnaissance in force. As an assault it failed. Then on the last -day in October the war-demon awoke again to his full ferocity. -Where the twenty-five thousand had been lost in August, a division -could now be poured right up to the parapets of the Russian forts -without losing a man. Coast-defense guns had been brought from -Japan to battle against the Russia coast-defense guns, which -had been turned landward. The Japanese had hauled their guns by -hand, eight hundred men to a gun, through mud, up the mountains, -in the dark, under fire, and had placed them in silence on solid -concrete foundations. But after they had crossed the valley the -Japanese still had a frightful obstacle to face. There was but one -way to get to the forts--up the slopes. Every inch of these was -commanded by guns trained carefully through three months of actual -use against a real foe and through four previous years against an -imaginary one. The Russians lay confident and calm above their -terrible fortress. They did not have to bluster with bombardments. -They knew their strength. They merely waited until the Japanese -advance reached a certain spot on the slopes. It was not a question -of aiming the guns, as it is where troops are constantly fighting -over fresh ground. All that was necessary was to pull the triggers. -There was about the proceeding little of the sport of war. The -order to advance was as certainly fatal as the hangman’s signal in -an execution-chamber, and when the Japanese did advance the few who -survived the murderous fire found behind those superb entrenchments -men just as brave, just as cunning, just as strong as they -themselves. If it is ever asked which is the braver, Japanese or -Russian, no answer can be given. No one nation distinguished itself -at Port Arthur. The glory belongs to both. - -It was in the third grand assault, when the final operations -commenced, that General Ichinobe, the commanding officer who -had ordered the sacrifice of Takagagi and his immortal Ninth -Regiment and who had summarily sent the sulking regiment to the -rear, became the Japanese Marshal Ney. Two battalions under his -command succeeded in entering the P redoubt, an outwork of the -great Cock’s Comb fortification. Ichinobe left his battalions -after midnight, secure in the conviction that his work had been -successful. Toward three o’clock in the morning he was roused by -an orderly, who reported that the men had been driven from the P -redoubt. Ichinobe was then half a mile as the crow flies, nearly -one and a half miles as the trenches lay across the valley, from -the slope of the redoubt. Leaping from his couch, he called about -him his staff-officers, issued hurried orders to the reserves, and, -at the head of his immediate followers, ran through the zigzag -trenches. Reaching the foremost line, now under the fire of Russian -machine-guns, he found his men not demolished, but surprised, -outnumbered, and being driven sullenly back. Drawing his saber, -Ichinobe thrust the ranks aside, passed through, and charged up the -slope, leading his heroes for the second time into the contested -fort. With his own hand he killed three Russians. When dawn came -his brigade occupied the P redoubt. His immediate commander, -General Oshima, had an account of the exploit telegraphed to the -Emperor at Tokyo. That afternoon an Imperial order reached the -army, christening the fort “Ichinobe.” - -In the assault of August 19th to 26th, the few men who reached the -parapets had received in their faces storms of what the Chinese -call “stinkpots”; that is, balls of fresh dung. This assault -wholly failed. The dead were left to rot, and the wounded were -shot as they lay, the stench of the corpses being used as a weapon -of offense against the Japanese, who were trying to maintain -the advantage they had gained at the foot of the slope. The -demonstration of September 19th, which also failed, was met with -hand-grenades of guncotton. In the third assault on October 29th, -halfway up the Cock’s Comb, the advance stumbled over a mine, and -the entire lower shoulder of the mountain was blown into the air, -taking with it some twenty-five men, heads awry, legs and arms -twisted, trunks shattered. Nevertheless, new volunteers advanced -through the crater thus formed, up the glacis of the redoubt, until -they reached a new and dangerous obstruction. This was a moat so -cunningly concealed under the very edge of the parapets that an -observer below could gain no hint of its existence even with -the most powerful field-glasses. The ditch was so deep that once -in, a man could not get out even by climbing over another man’s -shoulders. To fall in was certain death, for in every turn of the -concealed moat was a masonry projection called by the cunning men -who devise such traps, a caponiere. These caponieres were built -of stone and covered with earth. They were tiny forts, concealing -and protecting four or five Russian riflemen and a machine-gun. -Consequently, under perfect protection and with their foe in -limited area, trapped like woodchucks in a hole, unable to escape, -the Russians merely had to deal out whistling steel at their -leisure. The Japanese did not falter. The first men who leaped into -that moat knew that they were leaping to certain death, but they -knew, too, that the men in the caponieres could be overwhelmed by -the force of the numbers to come after. The two caponieres were -captured at once. - -Under the parapets of this fort, dominated by all the artillery -of the two armies, occurred some of the grimmest fighting that -history records. It was at midnight of the second day of final -occupation. The black mountains lay behind, the black forts in -front, the blacker plain below. A Japanese lieutenant, Oda, asked -for a volunteer _Keissheitai_, or certain-death party. Thirty -_Keissheitai_ men came forward. Oda put himself at their head and -ventured along the bed of the moat toward the rearmost caponiere, -with the idea of capturing it. The fort is very long--about one and -a half times the length of an ocean liner--so he found room and -time for adventure. There was no moon, and the moat was too close -to the Russians for them to depress their searchlights sufficiently -to illuminate it. In the blackness, halfway down the moat, Oda -and his men met a Russian lieutenant prowling with a squad of men -behind him, bent on the recapture of the two caponieres which the -Japanese had seized. They had it out, not with bullets, but bayonet -to bayonet, fist to fist, and even teeth and nails. Oda and the -Russian, in locked embrace, reeled back and forth, falling, rising, -scratching, first one on top and then the other, each losing sight -and control of his men, all of whom were engaged in individual -combats just as savage. - -The two leaders, grappling for an opportunity that each sought, -bumping against the walls of the narrow moat, reached, without -knowing it, an embrasure which led to the rear of the fort and into -the gorge. Tripping over this, not knowing where they were going, -the two plunged headlong down the slope. Above frowned two Russian -batteries. Beyond rose the great red-capped sky line of the Cock’s -Comb. A hundred yards, scratched by the stones, smashed by the -shale, they slipped and writhed, until they struck a tiny plateau -halfway down the mountain. Here the two, clinched, stopped as might -a dislodged stone toppling from its socket. In the struggle Oda had -been able to get his right arm free, which he reached over across -his enemy’s back, grasping the hilt of his straight, samurai sword. -Pulling it halfway out of the scabbard, which was tightly lashed to -his waist, he sawed and pulled until the slender, tapering steel -had gashed through the Russian’s clothing, full to his backbone. - -Late the following night, after the sun had gone, Oda crawled into -his own trenches at the base of the mountain. His men had been -repulsed by a second party of Russians who had made a sortie to -relieve the first. But, still the Japanese held the two caponieres -in front and the Russians the two in the rear. Oda got no medals -nor applause. Two days later a breast-wound which sent him to a -hospital in Japan saved his life, for had he stayed he would have -certainly gotten himself killed. - -The Japanese during the first two nights hastily dug out approaches -and had a partially covered way from the base of the mountain to -the moat. This gave them their vital hold on the north battery of -the Cock’s Comb. So resolute were the Russians in holding every -inch of ground that it was a full month and a half after that -before the Japanese could take the complete fortification. And when -the complete fortification was taken it availed but little, for it -was but one of three great batteries which formed the series known -as East Keekwan, which was itself but a portion of the eastern line -of permanent defenses. - -To see how the rest of the great Northeast Keekwan (Cock’s Comb) -Battery was taken is to see how Port Arthur was taken, for all -the forts were reduced in the same way. 203-Meter Hill, the Two -Dragons, the Eternal Dragon, Quail Hill, Wangtai, and the Pine Tree -fell as did the Cock’s Comb. The only difference lay in incident. - -It must be remembered that the fight was never over with the taking -of the outer parapet. Inside the forts, beyond the parapets, well -protected by moats and caponieres, was a sheltering earthwork -called the contrascarp, crossing which, storming parties met a -close and unerring fire from men concealed beyond, in ways formed -of timber balks and sandbags, and called traverses. Below these -traverses were galleries where the garrison lived; and below the -galleries were the bombproofs protecting the ammunition. Under the -traverses, covering the galleries and bombproofs, was heavy masonry -from two to three feet thick. - -To undertake the capture of the whole chain of fortifications by -such sacrifices as those which gained a single one of the Keekwan -forts might have entailed the extermination of the whole besieging -army and of all the reinforcements which could have been sent to -its support. But with one fortress in the chain in Japanese hands -there was another way--sapping. - -Through November the Japanese engineers were busy digging -underground from the advantageous hold they had on the north -battery. They started straight down through the solid rock. Only -a few men could work at a time, and these could dig only while -the trench protecting them, which was a few yards in advance, -was held by their comrades, vigorously firing, to keep down the -Russian garrison, now not more than a hundred feet away. Moreover, -sometimes when the Japanese sappers were half concealed in the -earth, sometimes when they were wholly underground, companies of -desperate Russians would suddenly break forth on them, spurred by -Stoessel’s promise of the Cross of St. George and a money prize to -whoever should break up any Japanese work. Thus at night, hounded -by shells, sleuthed by searchlights, and harassed by heroes from -across the way, the hole was dug. Forty feet down it had to go -to get below the level of the galleries and bombproofs, then -another twenty feet forward to find a spot under the vitals of the -fortification. - -Stupendous as the task was, the tunnels were finished at last, -and on December 18th a quarter of a ton of dynamite was placed -in two such mines, and the galleries and bombproofs of the north -battery were blown into the air, with the demolished bodies of some -forty-five men of the garrison. - -And even this was only the beginning of the end. Already the -Japanese had accomplished a herculean task. They had sweated, -endured, writhed in agony, died, and they had taken only one -battery. Ahead of them still rose, tier on tier, forts and -batteries, moats and walls, until the soul grew sick to think -that Port Arthur must be bought with sacrifice so vast. But the -Japanese did not turn back, did not weep, showed no despair. They -came to work, to meals, as cheerfully as ever they had done in the -rice paddies. And this, notwithstanding that winter was on them, -that the keen, equinoctial gales blew in from both seas, that the -thermometer fell to zero and below. They were surrounded by charnel -houses of their own making, and protected only by miserable, hasty -dugouts shielded from cold and wind by a few broken boughs, light -shelter-tents, and hastily packed earth. Death was preferred to -a wound, for the wounded had small hope of succor; yet life was -cherished and fostered. - -Meanwhile the Russians were busy. They devised a new scheme of -defense. Kerosene was taken through a subterranean gallery of the -Two Dragons into a moat and there poured on piles of straw. Then -they waited. - -At the fifth grand assault, when the north battery of the East -Cock’s Comb was taken, the Two Dragons were simultaneously -attacked. A company of Japanese headed for the moat. The kerosene -and straw were set on fire and the men who leaped into the moat, -expecting to find caponieres as they had found them in the Cock’s -Comb, were caught by flame. Many perished miserably. Some valiantly -fought the flames, but few survived. These few--that is, the few -who do the work in warfare--the few who accomplish that for which -the thousands die--made possible the Japanese advance. Through, -over, and beyond these few, the Japanese finally entered Port -Arthur. - -Science is well, up to a certain point. Then it becomes useless -and cruel. The genius of the engineer helps the soldier across -the valley and to the parapet, but there leaves him in an agony -of suspense, over electric mines, under dynamite batteries, -crisscrossed by machine guns. If the nerves of this marvelous -soldier survive the ordeal, and if his body escapes the flying -chunks of steel, he is reserved for the extremity of modern -torture--hand-to-hand fighting in scientific warfare. At a moderate -distance he tosses balls of guncotton; he closes with stones and -stinkpots; he parleys with the bayonet, and finishes with teeth and -fists. - -[Illustration: IN ACTION - -Loading a 4.7 gun of the ordinary field artillery during the -assault of September 20.] - -By chance, one morning in September, as the dawn came in, there -was revealed in a captured bombproof one little instance of the -hideousness of the conflict. The arm of a Japanese boy in khaki -hung limply across the back of a huge blond fellow in baggy -trousers. From the hand of the boy had fallen a pistol, which had -caught in the blouse of the big one; it had not fallen too soon, -for just below the muzzle the blouse was matted thick with the -life stream that had welled out in response to the death call. -The big teeth were clinched deep and tight into the little -jugular. On the boy’s slant-eyed face, good-natured, yet stamped -with the strange pathos of a people close to the soil, was written -a mute appeal for mercy. To that appeal there was no answer. The -boy’s dead face stared into the unresponsive block timber of the -bombproof. - -In the bloody angle of the Eternal Dragon, the most fiercely -contested zone at Port Arthur, you might have seen these boys -any day of those three frightful midsummer months, when the slim -wedge was being driven inch by inch into the Russian right center. -Everything was covered with the white powder of dried mud. All was -wrecked. The path lay through a series of shell holes, connected -rudely with pick and spade. Up to that point the ground had been -neatly cut, but here it became rough and crude. No inch of dirt -had been unnecessarily touched, because the enemy lay within forty -yards on three sides. The _débris_ of battle was all about--torn -Russian caps, conical and heavy, mingled with the light brown of -Japanese uniforms, cartridge pouches half filled, shattered rifles, -demolished sabres, a gun carriage smashed till the wheel spokes -splintered the breech, rocks pounded by bullets as by a hammer, -and, over the wall, seen as you stole by the chinks, khaki bags, -loose over rotting bones. - -All through the night when this bloody angle was first taken and -after it had been protected with trenches from recapture, Oshima, -the general commanding the division, sat in his tent without sleep. -He was shaken by sobs, for he had been compelled to order that the -entrenchments be made of the bodies of the dead and wounded. Only -rock was there and to hold the place a quick shelter was essential. -The half-dead men whose bodies were used by comrades to stop the -steel hail smiled in approval at the work; they knew it was done -for the best, but Oshima could not sleep; he wept bitterly all -night. - -Along that bloody angle and through all the eight-mile front for -many months lay on duty the soldier of the Emperor, the boy who -won the victory. He crouched under the parapet, rifle to cheek, -its steel nose through a loophole, his finger on the trigger. The -tensity of his muscles and his eyes glancing down the barrel in -deadly aim, made him look like a great cat pausing for a spring. -One leg was drawn up and his cap was pulled viciously over his -eyes. The sun beat upon him as he lay, venomous with pent-up -passion, cut in silhouette against the trench, a shade darker than -the shale. A minute before he had offered tea and cigarettes; now -he dealt out hot lead. He might be a university student, or a -merchant, or a professional man. Wherever he came from he was the -pride of his neighborhood. Physically he was superb--perfect eyes -and teeth, digestion hardy and fit as clockwork; this must have -been so or he would not have been allowed to enlist. Moreover, he -was a veteran of four months’ severe campaigning, seven pitched -battles, and two months’ hard siege. Here he stood, far out on the -firing line, clashed between two civilizations, hurled into the -pallor of conflict, tossed by the greed of nations. Yes. Down there -in the ditches lived the real besieger of Port Arthur. Not science, -nor generalship, nor race bravery reduced Port Arthur; it was done -by men who could live and die with the simple heroism of cavemen -and vikings. - - - - -Chapter Eighteen - -THE NEW SIEGE WARFARE - - -One morning in August General Nogi stood before his battalion -commanders at Port Arthur with a pick in his hand. Its nose and -heel had been worn away until the shank of rusted iron resembled -an earth-dappled cucumber. Fondling it, the General said: “Take -a lesson from this Russian pick. Your men must dig. They are too -eager to ask, ‘Why intrench to-night when we are going forward in -the morning?’” - -Nogi here went to the heart of his problem. It had cost him -25,000 men to learn that the military engineer must precede siege -assaults, as his brother, the civil engineer, precedes rapid -transit in New York. The lesson, taught by Julius Cæsar to the -legions in Gaul nineteen hundred years ago, Nogi and his heroes -re-learned before Port Arthur in 1904. The advance in that cycle -of time has been not in digging, but in ways of digging. The -Japanese had to cross a valley a mile wide and six miles long, -dominated at all points by every degree of hostile fire. This did -not appall them. They accepted the problem, grappled with it, and -mastered it. - -They honeycombed the valley, in the classic manner, with eighteen -miles of trenches and tunnels. The chief element in the problem -was to hide these from an enemy with lookouts above the plain. -“Till Birnam wood do come to Dunsinane,” the prophecy that sounded -Macbeth’s doom, had already been heeded by the Russians before -Kuroki’s northern operations. Here the witch, whispering in -Stoessel’s ear, might have warned him of his end when “maize-stalk -fields shall climb the Dragon’s front”; for it was under the -protection of maize-stalks, twisting through a shell-swept plain, -that the sappers crept on their slow but inevitable advance. - -The Japanese attaché in South Africa had seen the Boer commandos, -under fire, suddenly vanish in waving stalks of corn, projected, -screen-like, across a telltale front. It was a savage trick, -learned by the Boers from the Kaffirs; and though school-bred -British minds sneered at a ruse apparently so childish, yet many -times their game was lost through such maneuvers. The Boers used -their maize in wholesale fashion, covering their front with deep -layers of whole sheaves. The Japanese improved on this. Students -of nature, disciples of nature, they gave no gross imitations. In -late autumn, over a field battle-tossed for three months, trampled -by two armies, and sickled by the husbandman Death, they advanced, -resurrecting the corn-fields as they went, till the Russian eye -beyond could not guess the point where maize standing by chance -left off and maize erected by besiegers began. Each angle of -advance was concealed by these brown, withered sheaves. - -But maize was only the screen, and could not hide the thousands -of tons of earth which had to be taken from the plain. To throw -the earth beside the trenches, thus bringing into Russian sight -a furrow like that of a gigantic plow, would have revealed -the Japanese position as clearly as a blue pencil could have -diagrammed it on white paper. - -To hide the earth of this digging was the appalling task. It was -done gloriously. The advance sappers threw their first trickle of -mole-like progress backward between their legs from the furious -indent of their tiny spades. Helpers behind immediately deepened -and widened the rivulet of shelter thus begun. The infantrymen, -closing in at daybreak throughout the hot sun, perfected it, but -the reserves accomplished the new thing. As fast as the earth was -displaced they carried it with gabions and bamboo stretchers back -through the zigzag lines behind the mountain range which concealed -their own heavy guns. Here, parallel with the Russian defense, -mile after mile of fresh-smelling mounds slipped up through the -cautious, industrious months following that frightful August. -Passing across the valley through these tunnels, deep enough to -shelter regiments, three months after the Aceldama of midsummer, -one could, in safety, be frowned on by hostile batteries, distant -three hundred yards, or look into the plain gridironed with cunning -trenches, and, like the foe above, see no evidence of life. The -maize-stalks hid the trench turnings, and though the plain was -alive with its thousands of armed men, even the practiced eye that -had just been among them could not tell where they lay. Where had -the output of that enormous digging gone? As well ask the chipmunk -where he puts the dirt from his hole. It was a new experience for -the Russians to fight a foe who could wiggle through the earth as -easily as he could cross it, and, underneath, escape the death that -he met on top. - -Both sides had sailors on land. The Japanese emplaced the navy -six-inch guns in the bottom of a valley. The army field guns were -perched along the peaks in front, from which they could bark down -like noisy house-dogs. But the savage bite came from the big guns, -a quarter of a mile behind, the location of which was mistaken by -the Russians as identical with that of the blustering field-pieces -on the ridge. The sailors did not trust alone to the improbability -of their hiding-place. They cut out earth the size of a ship’s -hull, mended the broken crust with timber balks, and thrust the -noses of the six-inchers out of two square openings that might -have been turret-holes. Thus, entirely protected, though within -easy range of the enemy, they escaped serious injury. This was the -most effective Japanese battery; it has become famous for tenacity. - -For the first time coast-defense guns battled with each other. -The Russians turned most of theirs landward. The Japanese learned -that field artillery was useless against either the fleet or the -permanent forts. Such knowledge prompted the assignment of a -naval brigade to the initial bombardment, which, with the first -grand assault, failed. Then they immediately turned to home for -heavier ordnance. Mortars for coast-defense along the Straits of -Shimonoseki and on the Bay of Yezo were all but completed in the -military shops at Osacca. Twenty-six of them were immediately sent -by transport to Dalny, and thence by rail over the tip of the -mended Trans-Siberian to the last station outside the zone of the -Russian fire. - -The shipment of these great guns, the mortar-barrel of one -weighing eight tons, up to that point where cranes, steamships, -and locomotives of the finest type were available, was a gigantic -undertaking. Arrived at the shattered station in the night--for -day work was impossible--the task was only begun. From there the -guns were hauled by hand, for horses or Manchu oxen could not be -used where silence and concerted intelligence were essential. Eight -hundred men were detailed to each gun, which was mounted on skids -such as lumbermen use in the North Woods. Four abreast, with hemp -thongs across their shoulders, and all attached to a long cable as -thick as a man’s leg, the men labored on through the mud, after -dark, with the Russian shells flinging out searching challenge over -their heads, occasionally a quart of shrapnel bullets spurting -promiscuously into their ranks. Of the positions to which the -guns were thus taken the nearest were a thousand yards and the -farthest three and a half miles away. Once they were there, no -emplacement of shale or earth, such as sufficed for field artillery -and for naval guns, would do. So under each gun was laid eight -feet of concrete, firm and deep; and when it had hardened the gun -was emplaced. All this was done under fire, in the night, the -men being spat upon frequently by the glare of the searchlight, -pelted sometimes by wind and rain, and, toward the end of autumn, -seared by the winds howling in from two seas. It was prodigious -toil, obscure heroism unbelievable. But it was successful, for -it was this coast-defense artillery that sank the Russian fleet. -None other could have done it. The monster labor of placing these -guns on the bleak Manchurian hills, from which they have contested -with the finest defenses in the world, is one of the thrilling -engineering feats of modern times. - -For the first time in history armies battled under searchlights. -There had before been fights at sea, and at Kimberley a few -skirmishes under searchlights; but in front of Port Arthur they -have lighted up decisive engagements, extensive maneuvers, and vast -losses. Science has intensified war. It has limited numerical loss, -but it has increased individual suffering; and, as in modern city -life, it strains brain and nerves to the breaking-point. - -In August, for seven days and seven nights without cessation, a -great battle was fought--the first grand assault, which failed -and failed and failed until Nogi learned his lesson. Maneuvers as -intricate and almost as extensive as those in the north at Liaoyang -were conducted alternately under sun, moon, and searchlight. -The crux of this action rested on one of Stoessel’s searchlight -tricks, played on the night of the seventh blow of Nogi’s hammer, -desperately driving a wedge into the fortress. All the afternoon -the Japanese artillery had been fiercely bombarding the ridges -of the Cock’s Comb, the Eternal Dragon, and the Two Dragons. One -by one the Russian batteries ceased firing. It seemed that they -were silenced. Night fell, with prospects fair for assault. A -rising storm increased the Japanese hope, for in wind and rain -the searchlights would be nullified. Then, as night and rain came -down together, the searchlights struggling with both, the Japanese -shrapnel opened up against the lights. They had tried before, -unsuccessfully, to reach the dynamos hidden in the hills. This time -the attempt apparently succeeded. The man behind the light waited -until a Japanese shell burst in the line of vision between him and -his foes, and then turned off the switch, giving the Japanese the -impression that the light had been shattered. In this manner, one -after another, three of the searchlights playing over the center -of the field were “shattered.” With lights and guns apparently out -of the contest, and favored by the storm and the night, Japanese -expectation rose higher. - -After midnight the most desperate of the eleven assaults conducted -through the seven days was made against the Cock’s Comb and the -Eternal Dragon. Halfway up the slope of the Cock’s Comb the three -“shattered” lights, converging at one point, threw the advance out -in silhouette against the red earth and the white shale. At the -same moment the “shattered” batteries opened up, every gun alive. -Simultaneously a regiment of Siberian sharpshooters sortied from -the Two Dragons, caught the flanks in their onslaught, and all but -annihilated the two regiments in front. Reinforced, bringing to the -task that dour pluck that has given the Anglo-Saxon his hold on -his big corner of earth, a quality the possession of which by the -Japanese was once questioned, the reserves hammered the Siberians -into their trenches; and though the assault against the Cock’s Comb -failed, shortly after dawn the Eternal Dragon fell. This was the -tip of the wedge, driven at fearful cost into the Russian right -center, and was the objective needed by the engineers to outline -across the valley the vast mining operations of those three months. - -Between the hostile lines, held all summer and autumn with -desperate determination, lay a zone on which the dead were not -buried or the wounded succored. To send Red Cross men into this -field was to lose two fighting units for every one saved, and no -general would be guilty of such folly. The intensity of scientific -conditions, the forces of which are the searchlight and the star -bomb, the military engineer and the hyposcope, thus brought the -fulfillment of Archibald Forbes’s prophecy, made twenty years ago. -The time has come, as he said it would, when the wounded cannot be -rescued from a battlefield. - -Kimberley saw the dawn of the fireworks branch of warfare. It was -left for Port Arthur to bring into permanent use this _feu de joie_ -of holiday nights, a delight in peace, in war a spy. Rockets, -such as we use on the Fourth of July, bursting above the plain, -threw phosphorus over the advancing sappers and lighted up acres as -though by candelabra of stars. The Russians used three batteries of -such star bombs, and their dazzle added spectacle to horror. Some -Japanese officers contended that they caused no annoyance, but my -observation of the results was that they gave annoyance, but were -not a decisive factor. By lying low, advancing troops could always -escape being seen when the light came their way. - -It was to be expected that a people like the Japanese, inventive, -versatile, and industrious, would develop extraordinary resources -when confronted with such a problem as Port Arthur, the reducing -of which has caused them great agony and cost vast treasure. -Archimedes would have rejoiced to know Colonel Imazawa. Major -Yamaoka of General Nogi’s staff once said: “The world makes too -much fuss over the unreasoning bravery of the private soldier. It -pays too little attention to the obscure effort of the engineer, -who risks as much, but with full realization of what it means.” -Yamaoka was speaking of Imazawa. The two are friends. - -Imazawa’s most effective device was the wooden grenade gun, an -invention to save assaulters from death by their own explosives. He -found that a soldier carrying hand-grenades of guncotton up a slope -under fire, if properly hit, became a more frightful menace to his -comrades than an opposing mine. So he made a wooden barrel three -feet long, erected it at an angle of forty-five degrees on a wooden -upright, and by a catch-spring tossed the balls of guncotton from -it several hundred yards into the Russian parapet. - -After the taking of Hatchimakiyama (the Turban Fort), Imazawa found -his men for the first time on a height above the Russian trenches. -Then he invented the dynamite wheel. This is a steel cylinder -containing five hundredweight of dynamite, with a projecting shield -for soldiers who roll it forward under fire until it reaches the -declivity down which it is hurled. The opposing trench precipitates -the explosion. - -Imazawa also improved the saphead shield, used by besiegers since -the Middle Ages. Formerly it was a heavy log of wood, protected by -armor-plate, behind which pioneer soldiers advanced their trenches -when close to the enemy and under outpost fire. A solid log was too -heavy for the Japanese purposes, so Imazawa contrived a framework -of kiri-wood, both light and tough, over which he built a steel -shield such as Maxim put on his machine-gun. The shield stuck out -in advance of the framework like a cow-catcher on a locomotive. It -was rolled out of the saphead one or two feet toward the enemy. -Behind it two sappers, on their bellies, dug out from under their -legs the beginning of a wide, safe trench in which, two days later, -a regiment could find shelter. Nervous work this, with bullets -raining overhead like hail on a tin roof; but Imazawa made it -practicable. - -Before he finally hit on his grenade gun, Imazawa employed a -bamboo grenade lift, his first device to let assaulters hurl their -explosives into redoubts without danger to themselves. These were -twenty-foot lengths of heavy bamboo, to the ends of which balls of -guncotton were tied. Two soldiers carried one of these lifts up a -slope, projected the grenade over a trench or a parapet, and let -the furious Russians smash it and themselves into destruction. - -The last thing Imazawa did was a mistake--not his, but still a -mistake. In preparing for the third grand assault on October 29th, -after the sapheads had been worked to within a hundred yards of the -parapet on the Two Dragons redoubt, it was found that a dry moat -separated the Japanese from their prey. The width and depth of this -moat were difficult to determine. In the most fiercely contested -zone, and on a plateau so situated that it could not be accurately -seen from any of the heights possessed by the Japanese, its exact -nature remained a mystery. Scouting was difficult, for it was -commanded not only by the batteries of the Two Dragons, but also by -the batteries of the greatest forts at Port Arthur--the Chair, the -Table, the Cock’s Comb, and Golden Hill. To reach it a scout would -have to cross several hundred yards of red earth, bare to every -sight, and commanded by sharpshooters. Of those who went in for -information about that mysterious dry moat, for a week none came -back. Finally one scout, more cautious than the rest, returned and -reported to Imazawa, “Ten meters.” Thirty-nine feet is big width -for a moat, and no one could wonder that, sneaking along there in -the dark, with momentary fear of searchlights and sharpshooters, -the scout, finding a hole wider than his imagination, thought the -distance great if it was ten meters. So Imazawa made his bamboo -ladders fourteen meters long. On the day of the assault, everything -having progressed favorably up to that point, the bombardment and -the flank work against forts on each side being successful, the -advance went in with Imazawa’s fourteen-meter ladders. Under fierce -fire nearly half of the men dropped from the ranks, and only enough -were left to handle three ladders, the glacis of the redoubt being -littered with four others whose bearers had been slain. The hardy -scaling party at last placed their ladders securely on one edge -of the moat and dropped them across, expecting the next moment to -dash across them to victory, leaving the reserves crouched in the -trenches, waiting for the word to follow. Judge of their dismay -when the ladders fell from the perpendicular to horizontal, from -the horizontal to the perpendicular again! They failed to touch -the other side, failed to touch bottom, and disappeared. The moat -was fourteen meters wide. The dismayed assaulters hastened back to -Imazawa. That night a party advanced and dropped a thousand bags, -at one point, into this terrible moat. These sand bags disappeared, -and not a ripple of their indent could be seen. This sunken road of -Ohaine baffled the army and was the chief reason that Port Arthur -did not fall on the Emperor’s birthday. Had they passed it, the -Two Dragons redoubt would have fallen and the town could have been -entered. - -Those who charge the Japanese with suicidal folly should remember -that when confronted with this crack in the earth they did not -emulate emotional Frenchmen at Waterloo. They sat down and gave -Imazawa a chance to study. They did not die in a climax of frenzy. -Their sacrifice is for a grand and patriotic idea. Sensational -despatches about losses spread the belief that they die like flies. -The truth is, they never waste a life. - -[Illustration: - - _Copyright, 1905, by Collier’s Weekly_ - -THE OSACCA BABE - -Loading the 11-inch Coast Defense Mortar during the general -bombardment of October 29. Two miles from Port Arthur.] - -The use of many successful inventions showed the Japanese equal to -all the progress of the age. The hyposcope enabled them to observe -what went on in the town, and from 203-Meter Hill revealed the -fleet. This is a telescope cut in half, the front elevated two feet -above the rear by a further length of scope, and the line of vision -between made straight past the angles by two mirrors. It gives a -lookout within a few hundreds yards of the enemy’s line a chance to -explore calmly at his leisure. - -Bombproofs for the generals were cut in the solid rock a thousand -yards in advance of the artillery and overtopping the firing-line. -Thus commanding officers could get the traditional bird’s-eye view -of the battlefield. Instead of sitting at headquarters, miles in -the rear, as the generals in the North were compelled to do, and -directing the action from an office desk, as a train-despatcher -regulates his system, the divisional, brigade, and regimental -commanders with their own eyes could observe all that was going on. -The commander-in-chief had a fine lookout in the rear center of -his army, two and a half miles from the town of Port Arthur. From -there his eye glanced over as grand a battlefield as the world has -yet produced, for within an area of ten square miles was brought -every possibility of modern warfare. Even cavalry maneuvered. While -his optic vision was extraordinary, his mental horizon was vast -and comprehensive. Telephones centering to a switchboard in the -next bombproof connected him with every battery and every regiment -under his command. He was in instant touch with the most outlying -operations, and, almost with the ease and certainty of Napoleon at -Austerlitz could march and countermarch, enfilade and assault. - -Telephone and post office follow the flag. In the advance of the -Japanese army down the peninsula, telephone linesmen bearing -on their shoulders coils of thin copper wire, not much larger -and of no more weight than a pack-thread, followed through the -kaoliang-fields on each side of the commander. The moment he -stopped, a table was produced, a receiver was snapped on the wire, -and a telegrapher stood ready. More remarkable was the advance of -the telephone into the contested redoubt of the Eternal Dragon, -where a station was placed and operated for four months, with the -Russians holding trenches only forty meters distant and on three -sides. At this station, along the front of which twenty men a day -were slain by sharpshooters, mail was delivered every time that a -transport arrived, which was almost daily. Men on the firing-line -received postal cards from their sweethearts and mothers an hour -before death. - -Telephone and post office followed the flag; the Red Cross preceded -it. The medical corps came, not in the wake of the army, but close -on the heels of the pioneers. Before even the infantrymen entered a -Chinese village it was explored, the water of its wells analyzed, -its houses tested for bacteria, and the lines of encampment -laid down. This unusual sanitation is looked upon by surgical -authorities as perhaps the chief cause of Japanese success. - -But one could find another cause of Japanese success, if the -analytical probe is to be used and the mystic impulse which gives -men resolution for supreme sacrifice ignored. This great cause may -be called originality. The record of superficial observers of her -recent advance is that Japan to-day selfishly and slavishly reaps -the values wrung from time and chance through many centuries by -other nations. If this be true, she is original enough to survive -the ordeal of imitation. Had a single person shown the qualities -displayed at Port Arthur he would be charged with having the -audacity of genius. This audacity did not hesitate to make use -of anything, new or old, possible or impossible, conventional or -unconventional, which might win success from desperate conditions. - -Let me give an instance: the problem that faced Japan’s soldiers -when they had dared to capture a minor position in the fortress’s -line of defense. Audacity won it, originality held it. The -trench-line of this bloody angle of the Eternal Dragon lay down -the slope and thus beneath the opposing Russian trench-line. The -maxims of assault declared it untenable unless the contiguous -positions to which it was subsidiary could be immediately taken; -wise generalship seemed to dictate that it be abandoned. To hold it -would be hardly worth the cost. Napoleon thus laid down in general -treatise and Von Moltke specifically so dictated; but not Nogi. -Give him an inch and he keeps it. Besides, he needed this inch for -his engineers. - -In the bloody angle the ordinary sand-bag redoubt would not do. -There was no opportunity to erect the permanent masonry or even the -semi-permanent timber redoubt. The men must have some protection -that would let their heads be sheltered a foot or more below the -top of the trench, and yet give them loopholes for firing. Any -conventional trench built from experience or laid down in the -text-books was impracticable. A French, a German, an English, a -Russian soldier would have thrown up his hands because his father -and his grandfather knew no medicine for such a hurt. The American, -had he been far enough away from red tape, might have improvised. -The Japanese did not hesitate. Around the bloody angle he raised -a trench modeled on the medieval bulwarks of his samurai fathers. -It was built with ingenious quickness due to his twentieth-century -training. He erected a front of rock, like the turret of a -castle, and through the deep embrasures of this turret fired his -machine-guns, while the ragged skyline overtopped and kept him -safe. On the spot he married old with new. He was following the -destiny of his race--to tie the ages together. - - - - -Epilogue - -THE DOWNFALL - - -D’Adda--the Marquis D’Adda of Rome--had studied history well, -and he declared that the end would come at “ze psychologique -mo-ment--in ze wind, ze rain, when ze high spirit go low.” - -D’Adda was wrong. Port Arthur did not fall--it capitulated. It was -not stormed and won. It was worn out. The military critics of the -world were right. Port Arthur is impregnable, and well may some -other power some day learn this, when it is defended by Japanese -soldiery, properly provisioned, properly officered, and properly -supplied with ammunition. It was because the Japanese were ever -vigilant and never lost an opportunity to push their victorious -arms onward that they entered the city as soon as they did. - -The end came unexpectedly with the new year. There was nothing -dramatic about it--nothing spectacular, and he who wanted -excitement would have required excess imagination to find in the -event the dramatic climax of a great war. When Port Arthur was -taken ten years before, it collapsed in a day, and the unspeakable -carnage before and after furnished one of the lurid chapters of -history. Chinese were massacred, the town was plundered, and the -world rang with outrage. When Plevna fell, thirty years before, -the Turkish prisoners marched through the snow, across the Volga, -dropping thousands of starved, scurvy-ridden, frozen comrades by -the ebbing mile stones. When Metz went down a vast army came to -the victor, and hemisphere-resounding was the scandal. Nothing -of the sort distinguished the surrender of Port Arthur on the -morning of January 2d, 1905. A stalwart, grim-visaged soldier in -Turkoman cap rode on a white charger out of the town to a little -village on the plain, saluted his victorious adversary, and -presented him the beautiful white horse. The adversary, Nogi, with -exquisite courtesy, refused the gift. On being pressed by Stoessel, -in the Turkoman cap, he accepted it on behalf of his army. -Complimented upon his achievement he replied: “I see no reason -for exaltation--the cost has been too great.” The next day this -courteous soldier, Nogi, the soul of chivalry, a prince of leaders, -marched in at the head of his worn but marvelous followers. The -Russians marched out, some to honorable parole, and some to tender -care among their enemies. There was no massacre, no spectacle, no -great dramatic incident. War had become a business. It was thus -that these two great men--Nogi and Stoessel--wrote “finis” at the -close of the first chapter of this interesting new volume, called -“Civilized Warfare.” - -It is less than fifty years since Sebastopol fell, and not forty -since Lee abandoned the trenches at Petersburg. Yet the weapons -used at these memorable sieges are now as obsolete as the catapult -and the crossbow. And yet Port Arthur was won as were Tyre, and -Carthage, and Constantinople. Men will charge on machine guns as -readily as on crossbows. Apparently no defensive works or engines -can stop first-class soldiers. Nothing so well describes the last -few days of the great siege as this letter which came to me in New -York a month after Stoessel started on his way to St. Petersburg. -It was written by a man whose whole knowledge of English came from -his own countrymen. His position is that of Adjutant of the Ninth -Division of the Third Imperial Japanese Army; his service that of -private secretary to Lieutenant-General Oshima, who commands the -division. - -The letter is transcribed, spelling and all, as it was written: - - “NEAR PORT ARTHUR, - - “_Jan._ 3d, 1905. - - “_Dear Sir_: - - “At last Port Arthur strongly defended and well known in the - world came to the end quite late yesterday. Let me tell you - a little about it. After you left here we took front part of - Niryuzan as far as to the ditch which was 14 meters wide and - deep. We made two roads into the ditch destroying two caponires - and reaching the other side of the ditch, we dug four holes under - the Russian bom-proof--the holes were about 14 meters deep. Then - we filled them up with gun cotton to blow it up. On the 28th of - last month we blew that up using 2.700 kirogram of gun cotton, - at the same time our soldiers made an asolt, and took hold of it. - By that explosion many Russians, large stones, and sand went up - high into air. It was just like a volcano. The Russians increased - and threw out many hand granates and very hard fighting went on. - But about 5:30 of that evening the whole fort was occupied by our - men, after six hours of continual fighting. After that we opened - the road to push out beyond Niryuzan. On the 31st the first - division captured Shojuzan greatly helped by our men in Niryuzan. - Before the dawn of the 1st of this month this division took hold - of all Russian line from H. peak to Banryuzan new fort, except - Bodai. By a severe attack of the 35th regiment at 4:20 of that - afternoon, Bodai was taken by us. Though we had a good battle - on the happy new years day, yet the rest of the army did not - have any. Early next morning General Stoessel sent in an officer - and had the letter of surrend sent to General Nogi. On the 2nd - negociation took place and the battlefield began to be entirely - calm, by and by no sound of a rifle. I felt something. - - “I really wished you could stay here till this time to walk in - together to Port Arthur. I got slightly wounded after you left - and lost hearing of one ear. Wishing to see you at Mukden and - with best regards, - - “Yours faithfully, - - “LIEUT. K. HORI, - - “9th Division.” - - -THE END. - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE - - Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been - corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within - the text and consultation of external sources. - - Except for those changes noted below, all misspellings in the text, - and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been retained. For example, - bomb-proof, bombproof; machine gun, machine-gun; firing-line, - firing line; hyposcope; tensity; deviltry; diapason. - - Pg 12, ‘defense motar’ replaced by ‘defense mortar’. - Pg 17, ‘SEIGE, AND CAPTURE’ replaced by ‘SIEGE, AND CAPTURE’. - Pg 23, ‘subterreanean mines’ replaced by ‘subterranean mines’. - Pg 46 (caption), ‘leaving Dalney’ replaced by ‘leaving Dalny’. - Pg 61, ‘parchment-krinkled’ replaced by ‘parchment-crinkled’. - Pg 68, ‘the fragant air’ replaced by ‘the fragrant air’. - Pg 70, ‘His silk tile’ replaced by ‘His silk tie’. - Pg 74, ‘primeval ectasy’ replaced by ‘primeval ecstasy’. - Pg 136 ‘rice paddie’ replaced by ‘rice paddy’. - Pg 160, ‘reduce the catidel’ replaced by ‘reduce the citadel’. - Pg 203, ‘commssioned officers’ replaced by ‘commissioned officers’. - Pg 221, ‘To the Colenel’ replaced by ‘To the Colonel’. - Pg 230, ‘wild crysanthemums’ replaced by ‘wild chrysanthemums’. - Pg 240 (caption), ‘the Jananese soldier’ replaced by ‘the Japanese - soldier’. - Pg 240 (caption), ‘preceeding the battle’ replaced by ‘preceding the - battle’. - Pg 303, ‘chistening the fort’ replaced by ‘christening the fort’. - Pg 319, ‘have diagramed it’ replaced by ‘have diagrammed it’. - Pg 325, ‘guns apparenly’ replaced by ‘guns apparently’. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Port Arthur, by Richard Barry - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PORT ARTHUR *** - -***** This file should be named 56038-0.txt or 56038-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/6/0/3/56038/ - -Produced by John Campbell and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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margin-bottom: 0em;} -.poetry .verse2 {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 4em; - margin-top: 0em; margin-bottom: 0em;} - -@media handheld { - .poetry {display: block; margin-left: 4.5em;} -} - -/* Transcriber notes */ -.transnote { - background-color: #E6E6FA; - color: black; - font-size: 90%; - padding: 0.5em; - margin-top: 5em; - margin-bottom: 5em; - font-family: sans-serif, serif; -} - -.transnote p {text-indent: 0em;} - - </style> - </head> - -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Port Arthur, by Richard Barry - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Port Arthur - A Monster Heroism - -Author: Richard Barry - -Release Date: November 23, 2017 [EBook #56038] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PORT ARTHUR *** - - - - -Produced by John Campbell and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - - -<div class="transnote"> -<p><strong>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE</strong></p> - -<p>Some minor changes are noted at the <a href="#TN">end of the book.</a></p> -</div> - - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter pg-brk"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="600" alt="" /> -</div> - - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p class="p6" /> -<p class="pfs135">PORT ARTHUR</p> -<p class="p6" /> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<div class="figcenter"> -<a name="FP" id="FP"></a> -<img src="images/i004.jpg" width="550" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> - -<span class="fs80"><em>From a painting by Massanovich</em> -<span class="pad6"><em>From Everybody’s Magazine, by permission</em></span></span><br /> - -GOING INTO ACTION<br /> - -Out from the maize, on a dog trot, springs a battalion, pushing -across the winnowed terraces, over the stubble. Scientific -fanatics, they, pressing on up to the griddle of death.</div> -</div> - - -<div class="bbox pg-brk"> -<div class="bboxx"> - -<h1>PORT ARTHUR<br /> -<br /> -<span class="fs60 lsp0">A MONSTER<br /> -<span class="lsp2">HEROISM</span></span></h1> - -<p class="p2" /> -<p class="pfs80">BY</p> -<p class="pfs120">RICHARD BARRY</p> - -<p class="p2" /> -<p class="pfs80"><em>Illustrations from Photographs<br /> -taken on the field by the Author</em></p> - -<p class="p10" /> -<p class="pfs80 lsp2">NEW YORK</p> -<p class="pfs100">MOFFAT, YARD & COMPANY</p> -<p class="pfs100 lsp2">1905</p> -</div> -</div> - - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p class="p6" /> - -<p class="pfs80"> -<span class="smcap">Copyright, 1905, by<br /> -Moffat, Yard & Company</span></p> - -<p class="pfs70"><em>Published April, 1905</em></p> -<p class="p6" /> - - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p class="p6" /> - -<p class="pfs90"> -TO<br /> -FREMONT OLDER</p> -<p class="p6" /> - - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p class="p6" /> - -<div class="blockquotx"> - -<p>Grateful acknowledgment of permission to reprint some -of the articles and photographs which enter, with additional -new material, into the redaction of this volume is made to -the Century Magazine, Everybody’s Magazine, Collier’s -Weekly, the Saturday Evening Post, the Scientific American, -the London Fortnightly Review and Westminster -Gazette, the Paris L’Illustration and Le Monde Illustre, -and the London Illustrated News, Black and White, Sphere -and Graphic, in which journals they in part originally appeared. -The reproduction of the frontispiece in oils by -Mazzanovich, redrawn from Mr. Barry’s snapshot on -the field, is here made by courtesy of Everybody’s Magazine.</p> -</div> -<p class="p6" /> - - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> - -<div class="center smcap"> -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr><td class="tdcx"><h2 class="lsp2 no-brk"><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS</a></h2></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdc">PREFACE</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl"></td><td class="tdr fs60">PAGE</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">The Siege at a Glance</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_15">15</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdcx">INTRODUCTORY</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">The Investment, Siege, and Capture of Port Arthur</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_17">17</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdcx">CHAPTER I</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">The City of Silence</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_33">33</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdcx">CHAPTER II</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">The Invisible Army</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdcx">CHAPTER III</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Two Pictures of War—A Glance Back</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_67">67</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdcx">CHAPTER IV</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">The Japanese Kitchener</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_81">81</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdcx">CHAPTER V</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Camp</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_108">108</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdcx"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[8]</a></span> - CHAPTER VI</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">203-Meter Hill</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_118">118</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdcx">CHAPTER VII</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">A Son of the Soil</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_142">142</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdcx">CHAPTER VIII</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">The Bloody Angle</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_152">152</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdcx">CHAPTER IX</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">A Battle in the Storm</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_164">164</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdcx">CHAPTER X</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">The Cremation of a General</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_183">183</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdcx">CHAPTER XI</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">The General’s Pet</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_191">191</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdcx">CHAPTER XII</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Courting Death Under the Forts</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_198">198</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdcx">CHAPTER XIII</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">From Kitten to Tiger</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_211">211</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdcx">CHAPTER XIV</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Scientific Fanatics</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_234">234</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdcx"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span> - CHAPTER XV</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Japan’s Grand Old Man</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_253">253</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdcx">CHAPTER XVI</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">The Cost of Taking Port Arthur</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_276">276</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdcx">CHAPTER XVII</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">A Contemporary Epic</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_289">289</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdcx">CHAPTER XVIII</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">The New Siege Warfare</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_316">316</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdcx">EPILOGUE</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">The Downfall</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_339">339</a></td></tr> -</table></div> - - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[10]</a></span><br /> - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span></p> - -<div class="center"> -<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> -<tr><td class="tdcx" colspan="2"><h2 class="no-brk lsp0">LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl"></td><td class="tdr fs60">OPPOSITE<br />PAGE</td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Going into Action. From a Painting by Massanovich. Out from the maize, on a dog trot, - springs a battalion, across the terraces, over the stubble, these Scientific Fanatics press on, - up the Griddle of Death</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#FP">Frontispiece</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Richard Barry and Frederick Villiers. They were mess-mates during the siege. - Mr. Villiers, the veteran war artist of seventeen campaigns, was dean of the - War Correspondents at Port Arthur. The photograph shows them before their - Dalny home</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_34">34</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Starting for Port Arthur. Reserve regiment leaving Dalny for the firing line, - eighteen miles away</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_46">46</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">General Baron Nogi, Commander of the Third Imperial Japanese Army, studying the - Defenses of Port Arthur in his Manchurian Garden in the Willow Tree Village</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">General Baron Kodama, Chief of the Japanese Staff, standing on his door step</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Bo-o-om! Discharge of the Japanese 11-inch mortar during the Grand Bombardment - of October 29th. This gun stood a mile and a half from Port Arthur and is shown - firing into the Two Dragon Redoubt. The vibration made a clear photograph impossible</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_112">112</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">The Hyposcope. Lieutenant Oda looking from 203-Meter Hill through the hyposcope - at the Russian fleet in the new harbor at Port Arthur</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_120">120</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> - Orphans. Driven from home by shells which killed their father and mother, these - brothers tramped from camp to camp selling eggs</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_148">148</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Human Barnacles. Clinging to the bases of the forts, like barnacles to a ship, - these sturdy Japanese existed in wretched quarters throughout the summer, - autumn and half the winter</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Ammunition for the Front</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_180">180</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">How They Got in. Eighteen miles of these terminal trenches were dug through the - plain before the Russian forts</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_202">202</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">The Last Word. The officer is giving last instructions to his men before the - Grand Assault of September 21st. This photograph was taken in the front Parallel, - 300 yards from the Cock’s Comb Fort</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_222">222</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Preparing for Death. A superstition holds that the Japanese soldier who dies dirty - finds no place among the Shinto shades; so, before going into action, every soldier - changes his linen, as this one is doing</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_241">241</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">A map of Port Arthur. Showing the defenses and the direction of the Japanese attack</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_281">281</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Home. The shack, 800 yards from the firing line, occupied for three months by the - fighting General Oshima, Commander of the Ninth Division</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_290">290</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">Plunder. Showing Adjutant Hori, Secretary to General Oshima, standing near plunder - taken from the captured Turban Fort</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_290">290</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">In action. Loading a 4.7 gun of the ordinary field artillery during the assault - of September 20th</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_312">312</a></td></tr> -<tr><td class="tdl">The Osacca Babe. Loading the 11-inch coast <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'defense motar'">defense mortar</ins> during the general bombardment - of October 29th, two miles from Port Arthur</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_332">332</a></td></tr> -</table></div> - - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span></p> -<p class="p6" /> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<div class="stanza"> -<p class="verse">Cloud girt among her mountains,</p> -<p class="verse2">Nippon, in wrath as of old,</p> -<p class="verse">Unleashes her young warrior;</p> -<p class="verse2">Lo, the world’s champion behold!</p> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<p class="verse">He comes abysmal as chaos,</p> -<p class="verse2">A boy with the smile of a girl,</p> -<p class="verse">Tumbles his man with a handshake,</p> -<p class="verse2">And spits him up with a twirl.</p> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<p class="verse">Nourished on rice and a dewdrop,</p> -<p class="verse2">He fans him to sleep with a star,</p> -<p class="verse">Believing the fathers of Nippon</p> -<p class="verse2">Created things as they are.</p> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<p class="verse">So up and across the short ocean</p> -<p class="verse2">He sails to the land of can’t,</p> -<p class="verse">To keep up the name of his fathers</p> -<p class="verse2">And smash down the things that shan’t.</p> -</div> -<div class="stanza"> -<p class="verse">Ah! What a freshet of glory</p> -<p class="verse2">When into the noisy fray</p> -<p class="verse">Against a shaggy old giant</p> -<p class="verse2">Comes this youth asmile and gay!</p> -</div></div></div> -<p class="p6" /> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span><br /> - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[15]</a></span></p> - - <div class="chapter"> -<h2><a href="#CONTENTS">PREFACE</a><br /> -<span class="fs60 lsp0">THE SIEGE AT A GLANCE</span></h2> - </div> - - -<p>The sea attack on Port Arthur began on -February 9th, 1904, at noon. The land isolation -occurred on May 26th, when the Second -Army, under General Oku, took Nanshan Hill. -Four grand series of Russian defenses from -Nanshan down the peninsula were then taken -by the Japanese. The capture of Taikushan on -August 9th, of Shokushan two days later, and of -Takasakiyama the following day, drove the Russians -into their permanent works. The real siege -of Port Arthur began, thus, on August 12th, and -continued for four months and nineteen days.</p> - -<p>The failure of the first grand assault, continuing -seven days from August 19th, forced Nogi -and his army to go slowly about the terrific job -of digging a way into the fortress. In the following -four months there occurred six more -grand assaults, the periods between them being -occupied in mining, sapping, and engineering.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> -What was known as the second assault was made -from September 19th to 25th; the third from -October 29th to November 1st; the fourth from -November 28th to 30th; the fifth from December -4th to 9th; the sixth from December 18th to -20th; the final assault from December 28th to -31st. The morning of January 1st, 1905, General -Stoessel, the Russian commander, asked for -terms of capitulation, and the following day -these terms were submitted and ratified.</p> - -<p>The grand strategy of the Japanese operations -was simple. It comprehended one brief -design: to demonstrate on the west, where -203-Meter Hill is, while the infantry and the -heavy ordnance smashed the Russian right center, -where are located the principal Russian -forts, Keekwan (Cock’s Comb), Ehrlung (Two -Dragons), and Panlung (Eternal Dragon). -Four and a half months of sapping, mining, -bombarding, and hand-to-hand fighting, than -which history holds no record of more desperate -contest, won the forts of the Cock’s Comb and -the Two Dragons for the Japanese. The fall of -the Two Dragons on December 31st brought -Stoessel to his knees.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span></p> - - <div class="chapter"> -<h2><a href="#CONTENTS">INTRODUCTORY</a><br /> -<span class="fs60 lsp0">THE INVESTMENT, <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'SEIGE, AND CAPTURE'">SIEGE, AND CAPTURE</ins> OF -PORT ARTHUR</span></h2> - </div> - - -<p>In all the long history of military exploits, -there is not one that can compare, in point of -difficulties surmounted, with the reduction of -Port Arthur. That this fortress should have -been taken by assault entitles the Japanese operations -to rank with the finest work done by any -army in any age; that it should have been taken -in five months from the day on which the investment -was completed (the day on which the -Russians were driven into their permanent -works) is an exploit which has never been approached. -For Port Arthur’s defenses had been -laid out on the most modern plan. Nature, -moreover, has cast the topographical features of -the place on lines that are admirably suited to -defense. The harbor is surrounded by two approximately -concentric ranges of hills, the crests -of which are broken by a series of successive<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[18]</a></span> -conical elevations. The engineers took the suggestion -thus offered, and ran two concentric -lines of fortification around the city, building -massive masonry forts on the highest summits, -and connecting them by continuous defensive -works. The inner line of the forts lay at an -average distance of one mile from the city, and -constituted the main line of permanent defense; -the outer line, at an average distance of a mile -and a half from Port Arthur. Beyond these -again were the semi-permanent defenses. The -positions of the various forts were chosen in -such a relation to each other that they were -mutually supporting—that is to say, if any one -were captured by the enemy, it could not be held -because it was dominated by the fire from the -neighboring forts; and, indeed, it often happened -that the Japanese seized positions from -which they were driven in this way.</p> - -<p>In the majority of cases the slope of the hills -was very steep, and what was even worse for the -Japanese, smooth and free from cover; so that -if an attempt were made to rush the works, a -charge would have to be made over a broad -glacis, swept by the shrapnel, machine gun, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> -rifle fire of the defenders. Once across the danger -zone, the attack was confronted by the massive -masonry parapets of the fort, over which -the survivors, cut down to a mere handful, would -be powerless to force an entrance.</p> - -<p>The defense of Port Arthur, however, did not -stop at the outer line of fortifications, but extended -no less than eighteen miles to the northward, -to a point where the peninsula on which -Port Arthur is situated narrows to a width of -three miles. Here a range of conical hills, not -unlike some of those at Port Arthur, reaches -from sea to sea; and these had been ringed with -intrenchments for troops and masked (or hidden) -emplacements for artillery. Between Nanshan -and Port Arthur the Russians had built -four more lines of intrenchments, reaching from -sea to sea, all very strong and admirably suited -for defense. Now it must be borne in mind that -all this wonderful net-work of fortifications, -strong by nature of the ground, strong by virtue -of the great skill and care with which it had -been built, was distinguished from all other -previous defensive works by the fact that in this -fortress, for the first time, were utilized all those<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> -terrible agencies of war which the rapid advance -of science in the past quarter of a century -has rendered available. Among these we may -mention rapid-fire guns, machine guns, smokeless -powder, artillery of high velocity and great -range, high explosive shells, the magazine rifle, -the telescopic sight giving marvelous accuracy -of fire, the range-finder giving instantaneously -the exact distance of the enemy, the searchlight, -the telegraph and the telephone, starlight bombs, -barbed-wire entanglements, and a dozen other -inventions, all of which were deemed sufficient, -when applied to such stupendous fortifications -as those of Port Arthur, to render them absolutely -impregnable.</p> - -<p>The Russians believed them to be so—certainly -the indomitable Stoessel did. And well -he might; for there was no record in history of -any race of fighters, at least in modern times, -that could face such death-dealing weapons, -and not melt away so swiftly before their fury -as to be swept away in defeat.</p> - -<p>But a new type of fighter has arisen, as the -sequel was to tell.</p> - -<p>On February 8, 1904, the first blow fell upon<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> -Port Arthur in that famous night attack by the -torpedo boats. On February 9th occurred the -engagement between the remnant of the Russian -fleet and the Japanese fleet under Admiral Togo -which ended in the Russian retreat into the harbor -and the closing of Port Arthur by sea.</p> - -<p>On May 26th the Japanese Second Army, -which had been landed at Petsewo Bay, attacked -the first line of defense at Nanshan, eighteen -miles north of Port Arthur, and gave an inkling -of the mettle of the Japanese troops by capturing -the position in a frontal attack. The -Japanese pushed on to Port Arthur and there -followed, in quick succession, a series of bloody -struggles at the successive lines of defense in -which the Japanese would not be denied. The -fiercest fight took place at the capture of a -double height, Kenshan and Weuteughshan, -which Stoessel re-attacked vainly for three days, -losing three times as many men as were lost originally -in the attempt to hold the position.</p> - -<p>On May 29th Dalny was occupied, and became -the base of the besieging army. A railway runs -from Dalny for three miles to a junction with -the main line from the north to Port Arthur.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span></p> - -<p>On August 9th to 11th the outlying semi-permanent -works Taikushan and Shokushan, -lying about three and one-half miles from Port -Arthur, were taken, and the Russians driven in -to their permanent positions.</p> - -<p>The army detailed for the capture of Port -Arthur was 60,000 strong; Stoessel at the date -of the battle of Nanshan probably had 35,000 -men.</p> - -<p>Encouraged by their uninterrupted success -in capturing Russian intrenchments by dashing -frontal attack, the Japanese, particularly after -their brilliant success of August 9th to 11th, -believed that they could storm the main defenses -in like manner. They hurled themselves against -the Russian right center in a furious attack upon -the line of forts stretching from the railway -around the easterly side of the town to the sea. -For seven days they battled furiously. But the -wave of conquest that had flowed over four lines -of defense, broke utterly against the fifth; and -after a continuous struggle, carried on day and -night, beneath sunlight, moon, and searchlight, -they retired completely baffled, with an awful -casualty list of 25,000 men.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span></p> - -<p>On September 1st the Japanese, finding that -they could not take Port Arthur by assault, settled -down to reduce it by an engineering siege. -This latter was carried on by means of “sapping -and mining,” supported by heavy bombardment, -its object being to shake the defense -by terrific artillery fire, blow up the parapets -and other defenses by <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'subterreanean mines'">subterranean mines</ins>, and -capture the fortress by fierce assaults delivered -from concealed trenches close to the fortifications. -Sapping and mining may be described as -a method of attack by tunneling. The Japanese -found that they could not get into the forts by -a rush above ground, so they determined to burrow -in below ground. The main attack was -directed against the line of forts to the east of -the city, or the Russian right center. The first -operation was to cut a deep trench, not less -than six feet in depth and a dozen or more feet -in width, roughly parallel with the line of forts, -and at a distance of about 1,000 yards therefrom. -From this trench three lines of zigzag trenches -were dug in the direction of the principal forts -of Ehrlung, Keekwan, and Panlung. These -trenches were about six feet deep (deep enough<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> -to hide the sappers from view) and eight feet -wide (wide enough to allow the troops to march -to the assault four abreast). The zigzag consisted -of an alternate approach and parallel, the -former extending diagonally toward the fortification, -the latter parallel with it. The angle -of the diagonal approaches was always carefully -mapped out by the engineers, and was so laid -with reference to the enemy’s forts that it could -neither be seen nor reached by shell fire. The -digging was done chiefly at night, and the soil -was carried back through the excavated trenches -in gabions and on stretchers, and dumped out of -sight of the enemy. As the parallels were advanced -across the valley or level spaces, they -were roofed at intervals, with planks covered -with soil and grass, so that as the Russians -looked out toward the ravine in which the army -was supposed to be encamped, there was nothing -to indicate that the enemy was cutting a -series of covered roadways, right up to the base -of the forts themselves. Of course in many cases -the trenches were located, and desperate night -sorties were made in the endeavor to break up -the work. But it went remorselessly forward.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span> -When the foot of the fortified slopes was -reached, a second great parallel, extending -around the whole face of the fortified eastern -front, was cut—this latter for the purpose of -assembling the troops for the final dash upon -the forts. From this parallel the Japanese cut -tunnels straight through the hills until they -found themselves immediately below the massive -parapets of such forts as they wished to -reach. Here cross tunnels were cut, parallel -with the walls and immediately below them, in -which tons of dynamite were placed and the -wires laid ready for the great explosion—much -of this being done, it must be remembered, entirely -unknown to the Russians, secure in their -great fortifications overhead. The work of the -sappers and miners was now complete.</p> - -<p>It must not be supposed that while this slow -work was being carried on, the garrison at Port -Arthur, or the city itself, or even the fleet in the -harbor, was being left in peace, or had any respite -from the harassments of the siege. For as -soon as the investment was complete, the Japanese -erected hidden batteries in various carefully-selected -positions, until they had no less<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> -than 300 guns trained against the city. All the -furious assaults that failed so disastrously were -preceded by bombardments, the like of which -had never been witnessed in the history of the -world. These batteries consisted of regular -siege guns of from 5 inches to 6 inches caliber, -a large number of naval guns of 4.7-inch and 6-inch -caliber, and the regular field ordnance of -the three divisions and two independent brigades -composing the Third Imperial Army.</p> - -<p>By far the most formidable pieces used in the -bombardment, however, were the powerful 11-inch -mortars, which were mounted in batteries -of from two to four in various positions behind -the ranges of hills which effectually screened the -Japanese from Russian observation. The pieces -are the Japanese latest type of coast-defense -mortars, such as are used along the Straits of -Shimoneseki and about the Bay of Yezo. They -were brought by sea to Dalny, carried by railroad -for a distance of fifteen miles to the end of -the track, and from thence were hauled by hand -over special tracks laid direct to the emplacements. -In some cases, indeed, the guns were -dragged on rollers through the sand, as many<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> -as 800 men being required to haul a single mortar; -for the mortar barrels, without the carriage, -weigh eight tons apiece. This task was accomplished -under fire, in rainy weather, and in the -night, to the accompaniment of bursting shrapnel -and other discouragements which would -have daunted a less dauntless race. Even when -the selected site of the batteries was reached, -every one of the eighteen mortars had to be -placed upon a concrete foundation eight feet in -depth and eighteen feet in diameter. In each -case an excavation had to be dug, the concrete -prepared and rammed into place, the heavy -foundation plates, traversing racks, and the massive -gun carriage, weighing much more than -the gun itself, erected and adjusted, and the -whole of the heavy and costly piece put together -with the greatest nicety. All through the long -months in which the sappers and miners were -cutting their trenches, the engineers were putting -in place these huge mortars, which were not -originally intended, be it remembered, for such -field operations as these; but were designed for -permanent sea-coast fortifications around the -harbors of Japan.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span></p> - -<p>The mortar itself has a bore of 28 centimeters, -or 11 inches. The shells are designed to burst -on contact. They are loaded with a high explosive -designed by the Japanese Dr. Shimose, and -corresponding in its terrific bursting effects to -the English lyddite, the French melinite, and -our own maximite. Each shell weighs 500 -pounds. Its cost is $175, and the cost of each -discharge, including that of the impelling -power, is about $400. During the heavy bombardments, -each gun was fired once every eight -minutes, and as the grand bombardment lasted -in every case about four hours, the cost for these -mortar batteries alone must have been over -$200,000, and for the whole of the batteries, including -naval guns, machine guns, etc., the cost -of each bombardment was approximately half -a million dollars. The 11-inch mortar has a -maximum range, with a moderate degree of -elevation, of seven or eight miles; but as none of -these batteries were more than three miles distant -from the point of attack, they were fired at -angles of as great as sixty degrees, the huge -shells hurtling high into the heavens, passing -over two ranges of hills, and falling like thunderbolts<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[29]</a></span> -out of the blue sky, vertically upon the -devoted city.</p> - -<p>But if the batteries were located behind hills -that entirely shut out the object of attack from -view, how, it will be asked, could the guns be -aimed with such accuracy, to sink, as they did, -a whole fleet of warships, one by one? It was in -this way: For the attack of stationary objects -such as forts, docks, buildings, ships at anchor, -etc., the artillery officers were provided with a -map of the whole area of bombardment, which -was laid out in squares, each square having its -own number. The Japanese having, at the close -of the Chinese war, been in possession of Port -Arthur themselves, and having possessed during -the past few years an excellent bureau of intelligence, -knew the exact location of every -building or object of importance in and around -the city. Consequently, when the artillery -officers were directed to attack a building in a -certain square, or a particular fort, they knew -exactly what angle of elevation to give their -gun, and how far to traverse it, so as to cause -the shell to fall with mathematical accuracy -upon the particular object to be hit.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span></p> - -<p>The attack upon the warships, however, was -another proposition, for they could be, and -were, shifted, from time to time. To make sure -of hitting them, it was necessary to have some -direct line of vision. The Japanese knew that -such a line of vision could be obtained from the -top of a hill to the west of the city known as 203-Meter -Hill—the Russians knew it, too. Hence -that awful struggle for possession of this hill, -which cost so many thousands of lives. The -Japanese won the position. When they had -taken it, they placed observers provided with the -hyposcope—a telescope that enables the observer -to observe the surrounding country with -out exposing himself above the surrounding -parapet—upon the summit, in suitable positions, -and held the hill with sufficient force to prevent -its being retaken. The batteries were then trained -at the individual warships, and the effects of the -shells was telephoned from 203-Meter Hill to -the various batteries, and the errors corrected, -according as they were long, short, or wide, until -the huge shells commenced to drop with -unerring accuracy down through the decks and -out through the bottom of the doomed warships.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> -The ships tried to escape observation by hiding -on the outside of the harbor behind the Tiger’s -Tail hills, and in a cove behind Golden Hill; -but there was no escape, and ultimately every -ship of the squadron was sunk.</p> - -<p>That was the beginning of the end. The -11-inch batteries when directed at the forts tore -gaping holes in the parapets, and according to -the testimony of General Stoessel, they were -simply irresistible. One by one, after furious -bombardments, the walls of the great forts were -blown up by the explosion of the subterranean -mines that had been laid by the sappers and -miners, and the Japanese massed in readiness -for the attack in the inner parallels swept in -through the wide gaps thus formed, and seized -the fortifications, from which, a few months before, -they had been swept back in terrible and -crushing defeat.</p> - - -<hr class="chap pg-brk" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span><br /> - <span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span></p> - -<p class="p2 pfs180 lsp3">PORT ARTHUR</p> -<p class="p2" /> - - <div class="chapter"> -<h2 class="no-brk"><a name="Chapter_One" id="Chapter_One"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">Chapter One</a><br /> -<span class="fs70 lsp0">THE CITY OF SILENCE</span></h2> - </div> - -<div><img class="drop-cap" src="images/035.jpg" width="75" alt="" /></div> - -<p class="drop-cap">Dalny, August 3d: Guns have blown -their thunder to us distantly all the -afternoon. The sounds boom a low -thud with monotonous distinctness. -Lounging on the taffrail of a small cargo -steamer in Dalny Bay they strike those of us who -are innocent of war, who have never felt the -thrill, the halt and the plunge of battle as tame; -almost without interest. In a California cottage, -a summer’s night, a mile from the seashore -I have listened before now to the surf climb up -and lay down upon the beach with the same -heavy lust.</p> - -<p>This sound has in it, too, something of nature’s -immanence and majesty; an elemental force of -decay and a primal grandeur of progress. Yet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> -it is ominously deadly. The sky above is a perfect -azure, the sea below a perfect turquoise, the -town beyond a haze of tranquil ocher. We are -lying among warships, but they are silent. Beyond -us a troopship is unloading a thousand conscripts -for the trenches, but they are silent. -The city of Dalny is beautiful—and silent. -Silence everywhere. Then comes that boom—silence—boom—boom—boom! -The captain -steps up and speaks a few words. We begin to -realize that we are listening to siege guns pounding -the life out of a doomed city. The captain -waves an arm toward a point of land to be seen -faintly through a glass. Only half a day’s -walk that way and beyond—to the southeast—lies -Port Arthur.</p> - -<p>We are ten. Yesterday there landed here -eight military observers—four British, one -Spaniard, one German, one Chilean and one -American. These eighteen have been assigned -by the Japanese Government to the army now -operating against Port Arthur. The eighteen -are the only Occidentals who will see the siege.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/i037.jpg" width="550" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> - -WAR CORRESPONDENTS<br /> - -Richard Barry and Frederic Villiers. Mr. Villiers (in knickerbockers) -the veteran of seventeen campaigns, was Dean of the -War Correspondents before Port Arthur.</div> -</div> - -<p>Four days ago we left Moji in a transport -steamer, the <i>Oyomaru</i>. The ship’s name tells<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> -of the trip—“The prosperous ocean ship.” -We might have come across a millpond so placid -was our journey. Yesterday afternoon we -sighted a line of sand piles and verdure-covered -rocks rising out of the ocean. We were about to -steam past when a flash of sunlight, like a gay -salute from a boy’s pocket mirror, struck our -bow. It was the heliograph. The <i>Oyomaru</i> -put to port and slid in under the lee of the -islands. As we came up an old gray battleship -veered on her anchor to give us room and as we -turned her bows we floated in among the fleet, -dragging at its chains, steam up, waiting to -dash at the word to Port Arthur, four miles -away.</p> - -<p>We were at the Elliot Islands, inhabited by -fisher folk and seized by the Japanese for a naval -base. Around us lay the silence of death, -though twenty men-of-war were within gun -shot. Only the spiral upshoot of smoke from -fifty stacks and the heave and push of tide-driven -fighting craft gave evidence of the tensity we -were in. From the highest hill a thin shaft, -like a straw in the wind, cut against the sunset. -There lay the wireless-telegraph station to which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> -are flashed signals from the torpedo craft and -cruisers guarding the mouth of Port Arthur.</p> - -<p>At dawn we left the fleet, silent, with that -lazy curl of smoke uplifting its ragged fringe. -On for five hours we came at ten knots until we -rounded a cape and turned into Talienwan Bay. -In the farther curve, as a pebble in a sling, lay -Dalny.</p> - -<p>“It looks like Greece; the Piraeus with Marathon -in the distance,” said Frederic Villiers. -I thought of another place; San Diego Bay with -Point Loma curving a crescent out of the -Pacific.</p> - -<p>The Russians came here to stay; that is plain. -We can see miles of brick buildings, some five -stories high. The great brick chimney of an -electric light plant towers above the city. The -public buildings, hospitals, schools and railroad -station are as fine as those of Los Angeles. -Costly villas with spacious grounds, coolie covered, -stretch back under the hillsides. A zoological -garden of several dozen acres can be seen -off at the left. There are miles of new wharves -cemented and built with stone. Two piers -strike out four hundred yards into the harbor,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[37]</a></span> -locked down by solid masonry. A breakwater -half a mile long stretches at our stern.</p> - -<p>Ten years ago could the Romanoff seated in -the Winter Palace at Petersburg, placing a -finger on the map of western Asia, as he said: -“Let there be a Russian city here;”—could he -possibly have foreseen to-day?—the Russians -gone, half of the magnificent city burned, the -safe and beautiful harbor filled with Japanese -transports and men-of-war, the railway held for -a Japanese line of advance and Russian prestige -on the Manchurian littoral smashed like a rotten -egg!</p> - -<p>This afternoon we have found how desperate -the silence is. For mere movement after three -days on shipboard and five months solitary confinement -in Tokyo we asked to launch the ship’s -boat and row about the harbor. The captain -assented. Eight of us got in and started off -among the transports. Next to us was a hospital -ship painted white with a green stripe running -across her middle like an abdominal bandage -round an invalid. “Looks as enticing as a -cocktail before dinner,” said one of the boys. -It did have a cool glance that must be grateful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> -to a wounded man just in from the battlefield. -We but turned her bows when we ran into a -warship—a gunboat of the third class. She was -in black, with red stripes about her portholes -and stanchions. The gun carriages were outlined -in red—stuff put on to keep off rust. Just -beyond the gunboat lay a torpedo destroyer—the -most devilish craft that floats—long, thin, -low, with four thick funnels above engines like -a bull’s lungs.</p> - -<p>As we passed the gunboat a bugle piped “to -quarters” and several officers turned their -glasses on us. But on we went, gay with the -freedom of the lark, and stretching our ship-bound -muscles against the buffeting of the -choppy sea. Yonder lay the torpedo boats and -brother destroyers and beyond an armored -cruiser of the second class. The cruiser piped -“to quarters” and more glasses were leveled -on us.</p> - -<p>About this time the coxswain turned her nose -to the <i>Oyomaru</i>, but before we got there the -ship’s sampan glided alongside, the mate in her -alive, jabbering Nipponese and gesticulating toward -the ship. We hurried back.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span></p> - -<p>As we climbed on board Villiers yelled: -“You’ve spoiled it now. You’ll never see Port -Arthur.”</p> - -<p>Then we found we had created a sensation—this -strange boat manned by eight foreigners, -appearing in broad afternoon in the harbor of -the nearest naval base to the scene of the fleet’s -activities. Two warships had prepared to fire -on us at word of command and signaling from -the fleet to the shore had only found that it was -“supposed” we were “neutral allies,” but that -officially we could not be recognized. The captain -was reprimanded and we were told to keep -close to the ship until released. Tokyo had -said nothing of us to Dalny. To-morrow we -will be released. But we will not again go -about the harbor. We will go on shore. We -will have ears and eyes, but no legs or tongues.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span></p> - - <div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="Chapter_Two" id="Chapter_Two"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">Chapter Two</a><br /> -<span class="fs70 lsp0">THE INVISIBLE ARMY</span></h2> - </div> - -<div><img class="drop-cap" src="images/044.jpg" width="75" alt="" /></div> - -<p class="drop-cap">Ho-o-zan, (the Phœnix Mountain) -three miles from and looking into -Port Arthur, Sept. 14th: Here we -are with the Third Imperial Army -waiting for Russia’s downfall in the Far East. -With her fleet gone, Russia’s sea power has vanished. -With Kuropatkin smashed it will be -another year before she can have a great army -in the field. So now there remains only impregnable -Port Arthur to say that Russia but eight -months ago held all Manchuria.</p> - -<p>Ten of us are privileged to follow the fortunes -of the army of investment. We alone of -eighty-four war correspondents who entered the -field are here to record the details of a siege that -promises to go down in history with Plevna and -Sebastopol. At the present time I may tell you -only of how the army lives and works, and what -sensations engulf one in the midst of this elemental<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> -contest at the apex of a world, where two -civilizations are in life and death throes.</p> - -<p>Impregnable is the word for the line of forts -confronting us. Military authorities innumerable -have predicted it would never be taken from -a white soldiery, although Japan ten years ago -did take it, in a single day of fierce assault, from -the weakly armed and poorly trained Chinese. -But through seven years Russia has been preparing -for what she faces to-day—a great army -of veteran troops from a warlike nation, -equipped for scientific fighting and officered by -men trained in the best schools in the world. -She has repaired and rebuilt the old Chinese -Wall till it lies across the back of the city, from -sea to sea, a buttress of protection and menace, -plentifully loopholed for rifles and hung at intervals, -like huge fobs on a gigantic chain, with -forts. Every natural elevation is commanded -by a battery, and every weak depression built -up for similar defense. Six miles from sea to -sea, convex into the valley, and cutting off the -apex of the Liaotung peninsula as a conical cake -might be cut by a spoon, lies this bristling line. -Looking at it, and what confronts it from above,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> -this appears as grand a battlefield as the mind -can conceive.</p> - -<p>The mere names of some of the forts bring -gleams of the situation. To our right, in the -center, lie Anzushan and Etzeshan, the Chair -and Table Mountains. Some giant might hang -his legs over Anzushan and sup from Etzeshan, -but were he built in proportion he would be -nearly two thousand feet high, for they rise from -the valley precipitously half that distance. It -was here, the key to the center, that the Japanese -pierced the line ten years ago, but they have -tried no such move this time; a different foe -confronts them now. Far beyond the Chair and -Table Mountains, the key to the outer, we see -Golden Mount, the key to the inner defenses, at -once a sea and land fort. It shines glorious and -confident in the sunlight, the model of a conventionally -built fortification, rising square and -solid from the hills, buttressed with sod and sand -bags and parapeted on a bevel.</p> - -<p>After all the outer seventeen forts have fallen -and after that terrible Chinese Wall has been -pierced, there still remains Golden Mount, the -Tiger’s Tail and Liaotishan. Just below Golden<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> -Mount, to be seen only from a certain angle in -the valley in front of us, lie the shattered remnant -of the Russian fleet—three gray old battleships, -four tarnished cruisers and a half dozen -torpedo boats, smashed and done by Togo’s -fleet, whose smoke curls irregularly over the sky -line as it tugs warily there on perpetual watch, -a watch uninterrupted for seven months, in -which the monotony has been varied by three -great naval battles.</p> - -<p>To the right of Golden Mount and still below -it lies the new town of Port Arthur built by the -Russians. Hid behind a hill is the old town of -frame houses. There is not a living thing to -be seen on the streets, lying in plain view through -a strong glass, as though in miniature on the -palm of your hand. It is unharmed and spotless, -seemingly in fresh paint. Four sticks piercing -the sky line tell of the wireless telegraph -station. To the right a huge crane can be seen -sticking up to indicate the dock yards and a -patch of blue, landlocked water, the west harbor. -Nearest us the arsenal and railroad shops -are plain. Then comes the railroad mockingly -deserted in the sunlight. Then a high embankment<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> -shuts the view, but we know that under the -embankment nestles a series of barracks. Far -out on the plain, between the two armies, and -between us on the mountain and the Russian -forts, two miles off, a lone factory chimney up-slants -to the blue; though bursting shells have -been thick about there it is unharmed, and, so -far as we can see, Port Arthur is unharmed. So -far the Japanese have not shelled it at all. But -we are told the navy has wrecked the Russian -quarter. The army scorns to destroy the city -which now lies at the mercy of its siege guns, -just as it scorns to starve out the beleaguered -garrison. It is a civilized game the Japanese are -playing, one of strategy and force.</p> - -<p>Far down in the plain called the Mariner’s, -or the Shuishiying Valley, a little to the left -and back of the lone chimney, is a great fort -known as the Two Dragons, a most difficult place -to take because of its long approaches. It is the -advance guard of the Russian line; only eight -hundred yards from the Japanese trenches. Far -out to the right, resting on the northern arm of -Pigeon Bay, is a bald-headed peak some eight -hundred feet high. This is Liaotishan, the extreme<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> -left of the Russian position. Behind the -town are great peaks, the highest hereabouts, -and on them, in the early morning, four brass -cannons can be seen glittering. They are -thought to be dummy cannon, for they have not -yet spoken.</p> - -<p>To the left of the town, with its Golden -Mount, begin the really great forts, scenes of -carnage destined for history’s brightest page, -and about which have taken place the battles I -am about to describe. The Eternal Dragon and -the three batteries of the Cock’s Comb are the -essential. Far behind this Eternal Dragon and -the wall, a few hundred yards from the sea, is -a wooded driveway, leading to a mountain -called Wangtai, or “the watch tower.” Up this, -of an afternoon, a carriage can sometimes be seen -drawn by white horses. Prisoners tell us it is -General Stoessel’s carriage and that he thus goes -to his headquarters. Why is he not fired upon? -Because he is out of close rifle range and the -Japanese never waste a shell on a single man or -on even a group.</p> - -<p>Occasionally we can see men moving a heavy -gun about, or walking in squads through the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> -town. The Japanese wait to concentrate their -fire; they never harass the enemy. On the contrary, -the Russians, now when they should hoard -every shell, waste hundreds each day. They will -fling a six-inch screamer at a mule or an umbrella, -and no part of the Japanese rear is safe, -though distances are so great that the chances of -being hit are one in a thousand.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/i051.jpg" width="600" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> - -OFF FOR PORT ARTHUR<br /> - -A reserve regiment <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'leaving Dalney'">leaving Dalny</ins> for the firing line eighteen -miles away.</div> -</div> - -<p>All is quiet except that now and then a Russian -shell whizzes. The sound can no longer -be called the “boom of cannon,” so savage and -rending is the detonation of these mighty modern -charges. To hear one explode even half a -mile off sets every fiber of the body in action, -so angry is the report. Infantry popping can -be heard, oftenest in the night, as the outposts -come together, or the sentries chaff each other -by showing dummy heads or arms. But over -beyond that ragged line we know that twenty -thousand men, driven into a corner—and what -a corner it is!—are fighting like rats in a hole, -that they are of the same blood that defeated -Napoleon when on the defense a century ago, -the same that half a century ago stubbornly contested -Sebastopol, the same that a quarter of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> -century ago, at appalling loss of life, reduced -the marvelous Plevna. They sit thus hunted, -at bay, well ammunitioned and provisioned, -determined to sell every ounce of blood -dearly.</p> - -<p>To take Port Arthur seems impossible. It -takes men drunk with victory and strong in ancient -might to dare the task. It is only looking -at what the Japanese have already taken that -makes one have faith in their ability to do what -they are now trying; otherwise, looking across -at that six-mile line, one would say as he might -have said of the ridges lying behind us: human -energy and prowess cannot force them; only -madmen would attempt it. But the Japanese -have already forced at least five positions, seemingly -as difficult as Port Arthur. First, they -took Nanshan, which was even worse than this, -for the approaches were gradual for two miles, -while here precipitous heights and deep ravines -give shelter. Nanshan the Japanese took in a -single desperate day; Kenzan, where they had -to climb hand over hand, they scaled in a night; -Witozan, where they broke in over parapets -built on rocks seven hundred feet above the sea,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> -they reduced at high noon; Anshirey, where the -road climbs up a spiral for a mile, and is raked -at every yard, they enfiladed and took in two -days; and Taikushan, a saddle of malachite and -granite straddling the main road to Port Arthur, -they shelled out in thirty-six hours. Thus -it is we have faith that some morning the world -will wake to hear that the Rising Sun flies over -Port Arthur, which the military experts of the -Powers have declared impregnable.</p> - -<p>Bitter as the contest is, war has not touched -the bowels of the land. Looking into the plain -behind me I can see a score of busy and peaceful -villages serene in a sea of golden harvest. Maize -and buckwheat, beans and millet, cabbage and -barley alternate green and russet over the -meadows. Springless bullock carts, ancient as -Jerusalem, helped by tiny donkeys and naked -children, painfully garner the grain. Women -sing in low monotones at the primitive stone -mills where blindfolded donkeys travel all day -in a circle, grinding out the seed and flour. -Lines of coolies wend through the footpaths, -spring-kneed with huge weights on limber poles. -Shells at the rate of four or five an hour drop<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> -into this great area, separated from the field of -battle by a range of mountains, plowing up a -hill, shattering a house, tearing a road, killing -a donkey, wounding a coolie, but of no great -damage. No one minds. The harvest goes on. -The glorious, golden September continues. The -women sing, the naked children play, the tiny -donkeys labor.</p> - -<p>It is the plain in front, under the Cock’s Comb -and the Golden Mount, guarded by the Two -Dragons that has desolate quiet. There the -maize is untouched and the heavy heads of the -millet fall from sheer weight, while the cabbages -are crushed by infantry passing in the -night. Fires have blackened the villages, the -Manchurians have fled, and in ragged lines from -sea to sea the two armies hold their hostile -trenches, from which, through the twenty-four -hours, goes up the intermittent ping and pop of -rifle bullets.</p> - -<p>What of the army? You cannot see it; much -less can you hear it. An army of a hundred -thousand men is here, around us, among us, but -we do not know it, we can hardly guess it. Little -would one think, were it not for the firing, that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> -so much as a company were idling along that -plain. A machine gun rattles, a low, deep boom -comes from the sea; the forts reply, a flash -streaks the air, we see a puff of smoke, then a -cloud of earth is thrown up; finally, after a long -while, as we are about to turn away, the angry -shriek of a shell comes over and we hear it burst -a thousand yards below in the valley. Only our -ears tell us that war is on. The Japanese are as -invisible as the Russians. It will take days and -weeks to spy out the labyrinthine ways of this -great army as it toils among the hills, into the -valley and up the ravines, mounting its guns, -and digging its way up to the parapets, where -its units will cling, like barnacles to a ship, until -the monstrous hulk founders.</p> - -<p>But getting down into the rear plain, traveling -the road, taking a different one each day, -passing among the villages and through the -hills, one begins to realize that the country is -honeycombed by grim activity. Back and forth, -from the front to Cho-ray-che, a railroad station -halfway from Port Arthur to Dalny, travel -lines of transport. Each line has from one to -five dozen light wagons drawn by single small<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> -shaggy horses, each guided by a small dust-visaged -soldier.</p> - -<p>“There is the strength of our army,” said an -officer to me one day as a company of them -passed, grimed, heated, menial. They are the -flower of Japanese youth, clerks, professional -men, students, exiled on rice and pickled plums, -getting none of the glory of war. They are the -unnamed and unknown but all-powerful commissary.</p> - -<p>As the transport passes in, loaded with bags -of rice, there comes out another line, this time -of coolies, paired, and well burdened with human -freight. They are bearing the wounded, -in bamboo stretchers that do not jolt the piteously -shattered frames, to the railroad station, -whence they go by train to Dalny, thence by hospital -ship to Japan. Every day comes this dribble -of wounded, some days only a score, but after -a battle the ways are thick with them—hundreds, -thousands.</p> - -<p>Occasionally, but very seldom, a battalion or -a regiment of infantry will be seen moving in, -with compact lines, knapsacks on back, bearing -rifles with the barrel holes brass covered. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span> -other night over by the western sea I suddenly -came upon a troop of cavalry racing along the -sands in the sunset. They rode their horses well, -considering that the Japanese is not a horseman. -Each had an extra mount. They frolicked like -plainsmen till the coves rang. I had not seen -so much gayety before in all the Japanese army. -But what can cavalry do at a siege?</p> - -<p>For the sublime we need not go to the firing -line where men risk their lives and lose them. -At the front of our mountain lies a deep rutted -road, at the end of which, hid well among the -hills, is the hole for a concrete gun-emplacement, -redoubted with sandbags, the glacis slippery -with shale. Along this road as the sun -sinks we see what looks like a gigantic snake, -its tail pulling an ugly head slowly backward, -its dust-covered belly squirming laboriously. -Descending we find a cable thick as a man’s -thigh stretched between two long lines of men, -each of whom has hold and is pulling that ugly -head—a siege gun—nose and breech clap-boarded, -and wallowing, without its carriage, on -wooden rollers. We count the men—300. Men -alone can do the work, for they alone can move in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> -unison, quietly, at the word of command. There -is no noise. The commands cannot be heard five -hundred yards away. The three hundred bend -their backs as one and the Pride of Osacca bunts -her nose through the dust a rod nearer emplacement. -They toil there a week to get that monster -into position, pygmies moving a power that -will rend the mountains, as tradition has it that -Hendrick Hudson and his crew moved the -ships’ cannon into the Catskills for the eternal -generation of Knickerbocker thunder. To look -upon that gun, helpless but disputatious in the -hands of the three hundred, to realize that a -week hence its bulk, into which one of these -naked Manchurian children can easily creep, -will toss five hundred weight of shell five miles -through the air into one of those Russian forts -where it will shatter the skill, labor, and life of -an Empire—ah, that is sublime! Is it not also -terrible?</p> - -<p>The same scientific skill with which the gun -is handled is seen throughout the army. Even -after a battle, in the disorder of regiments, the -search for the wounded, the burial of the dead, -there is no confusion. All moves quietly and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> -quickly. No officer swears, for the simple reason -that the Japanese language hasn’t the words. -Only the interpreters, who know English, swear. -They, however, can be excused; they handle the -correspondents, to whom they can’t speak, as the -soldiers do to the Russians, with lead. You read -of “the confusion and bustle of an army” and -“the terrors of war.” There is no confusion, no -terror here. No shrieks, no shouts, no hurrying. -Once, as a regiment, after losing half its -men, scaled the top parapet of one of those -lower forts across the way, it gave out three -rapid “Banzais.” Just that triple cry in the -early dawn, from troops drunk with victory and -mad with fatigue, is about the only evidence I -have that the army possesses nerves. It rings in -my ears yet and will always ring there—a wild -shriek of samurai exultation floating out of the -mist of the valley above the voice of rifle and -cannon. “The officers lost control for a few -minutes, but not for long,” explained a certain -general to me later, apologetically. He didn’t -countenance such enthusiasm. War is business -here—the most superb game of chess ever played -upon the chequered board of the world.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span></p> - -<p>One thing that relieves the situation of much -of the evident hurry that once made war picturesque -is the absence of the orderly. The -mounted officer, riding for life, dispatch in -breast-pocket or saddle bag, from the general -to his brigadiers and his colonels, is food for -reminiscence. The telephone rang his knell. -This is the first time in history that the field telephone -has come successfully into extensive -active use. General Nogi can sit in his headquarters, -four miles from Port Arthur, and speak -with every battery and every regiment lying -within sight of the doomed forts. Little bands -of uniformed men, carrying bamboo poles and -light wire frames on transport carts, and armed -with saws and shovels, have intersected the peninsula -with lines of instantaneous communication. -It is the twentieth century. Yet, as I -walked over the hills near the headquarters of -the commander of artillery yesterday, I saw, -hanging from one of the bamboo poles and all -along a wire leading from it to the artillery -commander’s tent, strips of white cotton cloth -called “goheis.” You can see the same before -all the Shinto shrines in Japan. They are offerings<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> -of supplication to the spirits of the fathers. -Some simple linesman, garbed in khaki and -wearing an electric belt, not content with telephonic -training, would thus guard his general. -“Oh, ye who have watched over Japan, in peril -and in safety, from the age of Jimmu, even to -the present day,” he cries, “now, in a foreign -land, faithfully guard this, our talisman and -signal!”</p> - -<p>I have said there are no sounds in the Japanese -army. But there are—a few. At night, -from far back on the rear plain, comes the -monosyllabic sound of singing, several companies -in unison, interspersed with light laughter—nothing -hilarious, nothing loud, only an overflow -of happy spirit into the night—never in -the daytime, always at night. The song is a long -one by Fukishima, a Major-General now in the -north with Marshal Oyama, with a refrain: -“Nippon Caarte, Nippon Caarte; Rosen Marke-te.” -(Russia defeated is, Japan victorious.) -The laughter comes from the game they play, -something like our fox and geese, an innocent -sport with nothing rough about it. Of late the -Osacca band has been here, playing for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> -generals at luncheon and for the convalescents -in the field hospitals, but very quiet music—The -Geisha, some Misereres, waltzes from Wang, -and Sir Arthur Sullivan’s tunes. They avoid -the military, the dramatic, and the inspiriting. -The music is taken to soothe, just as their surgeons -use opium when necessary. How different -from the Russian, of whom each regiment -has a band busy every day with the pomp and -circumstance of conflict! One day, a week before -we came here, the Russians made a sortie -into the plain, parading for several hundred -yards in front of the Two Dragons. That was -before the lines were as closely drawn as they -are now and the Japanese looked with amusement -on the show-off. At the head marched two -bands, brassing a brilliant march. Then came -the colors flashing in the sun. The officers were -dashingly decorated, and the troops wore colored -caps. It was a rare treat for the Japanese, for -they had never seen anything such as that in their -own army. Like a boy bewildered at the gay -plumage of a bird he might not otherwise catch, -the simple and curious Japanese let the foe vaingloriously -march back into the town. So here<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[58]</a></span> -they sit, playing children’s games, to the chamber -music of women, as gentle as girls—but you -should see them fight!</p> - -<p>The transport camps are sheltered by mountains -so high and steep that Russian shells cannot -be fired at an angle to drop in behind them. -Through one of these nooks I came one morning, -unable to find the main road, and pushed -among the horses. As I emerged at the farther -end a soldier rushed at me with a bayonet and -slashed at my legs. The bayonet was sheathed -and I had a stout stick, so no damage was done. -I soon explained who I was. He sullenly let -me pass and his comrades began chaffing him. -Some officers across the ravine also laughed. I -thought they were laughing at me. Almost -any human nature laughs at the foreigner. -That was the first evidence of violence and -the first evidence of rudeness I had seen in -the Japanese soldier. I passed the day off -in the regiment and, as night fell, came back -through the horses, where I went without comment. -Round a corner, out of sight of the camp -I suddenly came upon the same soldier apparently -waiting to see me. I grasped my stick<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> -tightly, but he was weaponless, and advanced -smiling, cigarette box in hand. He wanted to -apologize and be friends. His comrades had -been laughing at him, not at me, and had -taunted him till he felt so ashamed of himself -that unless I smoked with him and returned for -some tea he would never stand right with them -again. We had the tea and the whole mess -joined in. That was a private soldier—a hostler. -The courtesy of the officers is embarrassing, it -is so continuous and exacting. Everywhere, -from general to private, it is real and delightful, -especially toward an American. I have heard -many say that it is only a crust, that underneath -the Japanese is a devil and a dastard. But a -very nice crust. Let us enjoy it; as to the pie -underneath, let the Russians testify.</p> - -<p>For the essence of courtesy and thoughtfulness -there is General Nogi. James Ricalton and -I went to call on him two days ago. He spent -half an hour with us at his headquarters in the -village of Luchufong, which is Chinese for -Willow Tree Apartment. It is one of the prettiest -villages in the great plain, on the edge of -a brook, fringing the zone of fire. Everything<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> -shows seclusion and quiet, though there is -located the brain that directs these gigantic -operations, the girth of which Nogi alone comprehends. -“Do you understand the situation?” -I asked weeks ago of Frederic Villiers, the veteran -English war artist, survivor of seventeen -campaigns, present ten years ago at the other -fall of Port Arthur, and dean of the war correspondents.</p> - -<p>“No,” said he, “I was at Plevna with the -Russians, but that was jackstraws to this game -of go. I know nothing of go. Ask the military -attachés.” In turn I asked the different military -attachés—the German, French, English, -Chilean, Spanish, Swedish, and finally the young -lieutenant here for the United States. They all -understood all about Port Arthur, but the -trouble was, no two knew it the same. So I went -back to Villiers. “Nogi is the only man that -knows,” said he; “Nogi alone can tell you how -the batteries are placed, how the divisions and -regiments are to be deployed and played, what -forts are the keys, what Russian batteries the -weakest, the reserve force, the commissary and -hospital supplies.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p> - -<p>So, naturally, coming to meet such a man we -must have some awe, some curiosity and some -respect for the master strategist, commander of -the army which drove the Russians down the -peninsula and which holds it now in a death -trap. We expected to meet a man of iron, for -Nogi is the General whose eldest son, a lieutenant -in the Second Army, was killed at Nanshan; -who has under his command a second son, a -lieutenant, and who wrote home after the first -disaster: “Hold the funeral rites until Hoten -and I return, when you can bury three at -once.”</p> - -<p>The General received us in his garden. He -was at a small table, under a willow, working -with a magnifying glass over a map. He wore -an undress blue uniform with the three stars and -three stripes of a full general on the sleeve—no -other decoration, though once before I had seen -him wearing the first class order of the Rising -Sun. His <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'parchment-krinkled'">parchment-crinkled</ins> face, brown like -chocolate with a summer’s torrid suns, beamed -kindly on us. His smile and manner were fatherly. -It was impossible to think that any complicated -problem troubled his mind. A resemblance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> -in facial contour to General Sherman -arrested us. Lying near, in his hammock, was a -French novel. He reads both French and English, -but does not trust himself to speak in -either. Miki Yamaguchi, Professor of languages -in the Nobles School, Tokyo, for seven -years resident in America, and graduate of the -Wabash college, was the interpreter.</p> - -<p>“Look after your bodies,” the General said -after greeting us. “I was out to the firing line -the other day and came back with a touch of dysentery, -so take warning. I do not want any of -you to be sick. At the first sign of danger consult -our surgeons. We have good surgeons.”</p> - -<p>“We are of little account, General,” said -Ricalton, “but it is a very serious thing for a -man on whom the world’s eyes are centered to -have dysentery.”</p> - -<p>The General smiled. “I am quite well now,” -he said; “but how old are you?” he asked, looking -at Ricalton’s gray hairs. They compared -ages. Ricalton proved to be three years the older.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/i069.jpg" width="525" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="fs80 right"><em>From Stereograph, Copyright 1904, by Underwood & Underwood, New York</em></p> - -GENERAL BARON NOGI<br /> - -The photograph shows the Commander of the Third Imperial Japanese -Army studying the defenses of Port Arthur in his garden -in the Willow Tree Village, Manchuria</div> -</div> - -<p>“The command of the army, then, belongs to -me,” said Ricalton. “I’m your senior.”</p> - -<p>“Ah,” said the General, “but then I should<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> -have to do your work and I fear I could not do -it as well as you do.”</p> - -<p>That night a huge hamper came to Ricalton’s -tent in charge of the headquarters orderly. It -contained three huge bunches of Malaga grapes, -half a dozen Bartlett pears, a peck of fine -snow apples, and bore a card reading: “The -General sends his compliments to his senior in -command.”</p> - -<p>“He is a great man,” said Ricalton, “who -can so notice, in the midst of colossal labors, a -passing old photographer.”</p> - -<p>But, as Nogi goes, so go the other generals, -and so goes the army. Villiers and I went yesterday -to call on a certain Lieutenant-General -who commands the most important third of the -forces. His division has borne the brunt of the -fighting, and he doesn’t live as Nogi does, on -the edge of the zone of fire, but close under the -guns within a mile of the Russian forts, so close -that in his lookout two of his staff officers were -recently killed. His home is a dugout in the -side of a mountain. It is large enough for him -to lie down in and turn over. He had a heavy -white blanket, a rubber pillow to be inflated<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> -with lung power, a fan, an officer’s trunk that -carries sixty pounds, and a small lantern of oiled -silk—this was his furniture, his complete outfit. -On a peg hung his sword, and outside, on -the ground, lay his boots. Some member of his -staff had fixed up an iron bedstead and a water -bowl, but they were lying off at the side of the -dugout, untouched. He came to meet us in a -thin pair of rubber slippers, his uniform a bit -worn, the string on his breast, where the order -of the Rising Sun is usually worn, barren, his -eyes kindly, his manner fatherly and his hospitality -generous; he spread a lunch bountiful as -Nogi’s.</p> - -<p>“I know the Russians,” said Villiers that -night. “I was with them all through the Russo-Turkish -War. I remember Skoboleff, their -great cavalry leader, a magnificent type of man, -a soldier to the ground, but fiery, emotional, -vivacious, vain, fond of orders, jewels, wine and -women, looking on war as a lark, dashing and -brilliant, the scourge of Europe! He was not -this type of man—a scientific chap, sober, full -of business to the chin, no lugs to him, and as -unemotional as a fish. Kuropatkin was Skoboleff’s<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> -Chief of Staff and you see what these fellows -have done with him. The day of cynical -dash and reckless valor has gone by in war, my -boy. We are living in an age of modesty and -gentleness, of science and concentration; Japan -is the master.”</p> - -<p>We lay under the searchlights, which were -turning the night valley into a noontide halo, as -Villiers spoke. Every light came from the Russian -side, which lay wary and restless beyond -us. From the Japanese side came no light, no -sound. All was secrecy and silence. Yet we -knew those hills were alive with toiling brown -figures, that a ten-mile line of rifle pits was -guarded at every rod by a sleepless soldier -watching for the Rising Sun and that the tents -of those Generals blinked unceasingly with the -steady glow of the oiled silk lanterns, quivering -cabalistically with ideographs.</p> - -<p>As I looked upon swaying and heavy searchlights, -I could think only of the Indian cobra -and his mortal enemy, the mongoose. Silently, -rolled in a ball, alert for a fatal spring, -the little mongoose watches, and the hooded -cobra swings ponderously, more nervous with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> -each move. All other enemies he can crush; -none other he fears; his body is murderous, his -fangs deadly, his stealthy glide noiseless and -sure. How well he knows his power! Despot -of the jungle, why should he fear? And yet, -since the world dawned his tribe has done well -to avoid the mongoose.</p> - -<p>Steadily swings the cobra; viciously he lunges. -Now look! In the folds of the cobra’s neck -those incisive teeth, those death-dealing claws! -With the fury of whirlwinds lashes the cobra. -With eternal calm cling the teeth and claws. -Hour after hour goes the unequal struggle. The -huge coils relax, the great head falls. Then -the beady eyes twinkle. The mongoose slips off -in the darkness; prone lies the cobra. Who -sheds tears?</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span></p> - - <div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="Chapter_Three" id="Chapter_Three"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">Chapter Three</a><br /> -<span class="fs70 lsp0">TWO PICTURES OF WAR—A GLANCE BACK</span></h2> - </div> - -<div><img class="drop-cap" src="images/075.jpg" width="75" alt="" /></div> - -<p class="drop-cap">Tokyo, June 1st:—Who pays for the -war? Here are a few telling one -another that they are the bankers. It -is at a Sunday concert in the fifth city -of the world, a wilderness of sheds flimsy over -two million human beings. In the midst rise -vast acres of country solitude and rest. A tangle -of cryptomeria and fir shade puzzled paths -winding through furse of elderberry and hawthorn. -Haze and vista spread away past hills -and forests, past hothouses and lawns of firm -packed earth. A lake dimples a vale, as a smile -the cheek of a lovely woman, and its pebbly bed -reflects the laughter of the sun. About it fluttering -flags, new and gay, festoon the sentiment -of all nations, one—Russia—excepted. Thousands, -tens of thousands, dot the paths, are merry -with the lake, instill from the greenery a quiet -joy. Hundreds of voices, atune with instruments,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> -filter <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'the fragant air'">the fragrant air</ins> with music. Beyond -the fence is squalor so dense three sen a -month pays for a dwelling; here is leisure so -luxurious the senses float in dreams. In a corner -a moldy Diabutsu, the calm of Nirvana on -his face, nods on a leaf of lotus; “out of the -slime itself spotless the lotus grows.”</p> - -<p>Tokyo is beautiful—brunette and beautiful. -This first day of June she has risen past the -cherry blossom, past the wistaria, through the -freshness of spring to the full radiance of summer. -Pink, like the fleece of clouds in the sky, -and heliotrope, like the first flush of sunrise, are -past. Now green, rich and deep from a soil of -winnowed sustenance, mantles her in Oriental -splendor—a splendor simple and elegant with -the wealth of the east, shadowy and sunny with -the blow of Japan. It folds her about with the -assuring clasp of a lover, and she responds with -the shy, voluptuous acceptance of a maid -o’erwon.</p> - -<p>This is a summer of content, a dream of gayety, -of insouciance. A million babies gurgle -with the baby glory of it. A million mothers coo -and coddle at the eternal freshness of it. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> -here, to-day, in this wilderness of terraced garden, -in this bouquet of smiling East, have -assembled the daintiest mothers in the land—the -peeresses. The son of one is a major-general. -Others have captains, colonels, aides-de-camp to -tug their heartstrings with fear, to inflate their -pulses with pride. Have we not penetrated to -the very viscera of war’s nature when we find -the mothers of its heroes thus assembled?</p> - -<p>One of these mothers, a Princess, passes. -Should she buy that delicate lace and lingerie, -so charming with all that’s feminine, from -boxes labeled and graded, she would choose -misses’ sizes, so tiny is she. A toy of a woman, -demure and pretty; yet put up by the finest of -Parisian makers. The dotted mulle of her veil -sweeps slightly away, scallop-like, from a face -thin with aristocratic aquilinity. Behind that -face, with wax complexion and eyes of bead-like -purity, scintillates a mind bred on intellectual -fashions. She speaks with the cultured -English of Vassar. She knows Omar Khayyam -as well as any. The major-general is her son. -Beside her walks another son, his gold-rimmed -spectacles completing a fine picture of esthetic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> -pride. <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'His silk tile'">His silk tie</ins> is the envy of every Japanese -not bred abroad, for his clothes are from Piccadilly. -The garden is full of these and such as -these. They are giving a concert for the relief -fund.</p> - -<p>The music! It is the choicest that the sensuous -imagination of man has built out of rules -and dreams. “William Tell” thunders its diapason -from the hid footholds of the earth. The -audacious march of Leroul spits out its song -of triumph. “America” murmurs a swelling -hymn. A Weber overture sparkles, ascends, -leaping crags, whirling diaphanous gayety -through cloud and shadow.</p> - -<p>Then a Japanese aria, weird with the rapt -genius of the land, molten with Malay poise, -floats a mystery of ancient longing through the -broad day’s haze. It weaves through fir and -cryptomeria, assaults the hearts of thousands, -and, triumphant, storms the heavens; is lost in -the faint sky, a sky blue with the dreaminess -Whistler would have etched in immortal -phantasy.</p> - -<p>The Relief Fund gets fifty sen apiece from -these peeresses with Piccadilly sons, brothered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> -by major-generals. And all other manner of -folk, down to the little sister, carrying on her -back a future soldier of the emperor, daughter -of a rice cleaner in a three-sen dwelling beyond -the gate, thus while the pleasant hours away.</p> - -<p>On the heights of Tokyo they are paying for -the war.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Here are the heights of Nanshan on the 27th -of May. It is 5.20 o’clock in the morning and -seas of sunlight are hid in a fog across Korea -Bay. The fog lifts, and as the day bursts in -along the whole line the banner of the Rising -Sun is planted on the Russian ramparts of Kinchow. -Since midnight the artillery of the third -division has been hammering from the right, off -toward Talienwan. At intervals the infantry -of the first and fourth divisions charge from the -front whence they have been advancing for two -days. It is the second army of 60,000 Japanese -and the investment of Port Arthur has begun. -The railway has long been cut. Now Kinchow -is taken and the Russians are helter-skelter -Dalnyward.</p> - -<p>Here, then, is the theater, scene of such sublime<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[72]</a></span> -assault and conquest as the eye of history -has not looked upon since Grant stood on -Orchard Knob and watched his thin blue line -scale Missionary Ridge; the hill of Nanshan, -key to the advance on Port Arthur. Turned in -its lock Nanshan confronts the Japanese, impregnable, -ghastly grim in the fresh sunlight. -We may well pause to inspect the position. It -rises, formidable, the height of a church steeple, -from a narrow plain. The edges of this plain -dip sheer down a hundred feet of slippery rock -to the two bays—Talienwan and Kinchow. -From bay to bay is scarce three miles. From -Nanshan we may see, through a glass, the bay of -Kinchow. Riding on it are four of the enemy’s -gunboats. Their shells are flying over our -heads. They have not yet found the range. To -the left in Talienwan, a Russian gunboat, guarding -four transports, is enfilading the third Japanese -Division and supporting a regiment of its -own men flanking the base of the hill. The hill -has been cleared of underbrush and terraced, -divided into four intervals and on these intervals -trenches built. One hundred and ten -cannon are there manned. At the bottom are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> -barbed-wire fences, Spanish trocha, not like the -fences of a cow pasture, but dovetailed and -doubled so that if a man breaks through one he -stumbles into the oblique, bloody arms of -another.</p> - -<p>This the Japanese are to assault before noon. -There is no timber, only a few bushes and rock -the size of a bull’s head, hard things to wade -through, but no defense. They must cross the -open plain, 500 yards, in full range of those one -hundred and ten cannon, smash the barbed wire, -climb the terraced plateaus where they will be -picked off like rabbits in a shooting gallery, assault -the trenches and finally take the heights. -To take one trench seems heroic achievement, -four an impossibility. Impossible but for one -thing—orders. The navy was ordered at the -outset of the war “to exterminate” the Russian -fleet, this Second Army went out to “take Port -Arthur.” And they obey orders—these Japanese. -So why contemplate that to attempt that -Hill of Nanshan is folly, to take it madness?</p> - -<p>The Russians wait. All is silence—the awed -hush preceding carnage, terror, death. Waiting -they sing, not light tunes heard so bright and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> -gay on the heights of Tokyo to-day; chansons of -France, Italy’s peerless compositions, America’s -solemn new-born hymn or Japan’s flute note -weird and penetrating. From deep bass throats -and barytones majestic rolls organ music of -fierce, wild grandeur, as through some vast -forest aisle the harmonies of winds and woods -and waves unite in mighty pæans, celebrating -to the august fastnesses glories yet fresh to man. -Schools, traditions, customs civilized have not -touched the fiber of that central gauntness, shining -up through the spirit of the singers, like -dreamland on a tragedian’s afterglow. Siberia -with all its wildness, with all its immensity, -where aback the mammoth wallowed; the Caucasus -tossing aloft <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'primeval ectasy'">primeval ecstasy</ins> the long slant -of the steppes, and Russia, bold, defiant, revengeful; -all rolled in one, are in that note. The -clothes of the men are heavy, ungainly, ill-made, -nothing serviceable but the boots, which are well -adapted for running away. The faces—sodden -with ignorance and vice—reflect only stolid endurance; -no initiative, no individuality. Only -through the song shines the soul.</p> - -<p>The singing ceases. There is a dreadful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> -hush. It is eleven o’clock. Off toward Kinchow, -which is hid by a fringe of low fir trees, something -is moving. Soon hunchbacked dabs can -be seen bobbing across the furze, leaping over -the stones, pausing, searching, then onward dashing. -The firing begins. Two machine guns—only -ten of the one hundred and ten are quick-firers—lead -off. You can easily tell them. -The sound is little, like the popping of a dozen -beer bottles in quick succession. Then silence. -The strip of cartridges is torn aside, another -inserted, again a dozen pops. So it goes until -the ten are brought into action and there is no -intermission. Flicks of dust are kicked up by -the shells, most falling short, a few passing on -through the trees. One of the bobbing dabs -falls, the rest press on. Now the gunners are -getting the range; the shells pick off more -hunchbacks.</p> - -<p>But there is no stop. This is not reconnoisance; -it is battle. The skirmishers deployed -and well up, now the main line advances. Out -from the trees on a dog-trot springs a battalion. -It is going to try that griddle of death. The -men dash valiantly on, agile fellows, intense as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> -fanatics. Now the hundred field cannon come -into play. Most are Chinese of ancient date, -some are modern, rim-firing. Smoke fills the -plain. It is difficult to see. The torrent of lead -is on. Snatched through the noise of firing you -can hear great cries; they grow spasmodic, then -cease. The firing slows. Soon only the automatic -pops are heard. The smoke drifts off. -The foremost man is there on the wire, gutted. -He hangs, a frightful mass, limp on the barbs. -Here and there a poor fellow is crawling, as you -have seen some worm trodden on vainly seek its -hole. Not a man of the battalion has survived. -A thousand brave, faithful soldiers are gone. -So this is civilized warfare!</p> - -<p>Yes. They now see it was folly to attempt the -hill of Nanshan. So they open up with artillery, -a whole regiment of it, infinitely superior -to the sixty antiquated cannon, the forty Canet -pieces and the ten quick-firers. For an hour -they rain that leaden taunt back at dubious Nanshan, -who austerely barks out a thin reply, -coughs a wheezy growl and ceases. Meanwhile -the thousands in leash, battle inflamed, -recall that the dead battalion are Osacca men,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> -and, being merchants from the Japanese Chicago, -had been hailed as cowards by sons of -samurai. A company of Osaccans went down, -stuck, like pigs, in the <i>Kinshu Maru</i>. But after -Nanshan the pork packers of Osacca will hold -their heads decently high with the boldest.</p> - -<p>Toward three o’clock the second advance is -ordered. Half the third division and a part of -the first, nearly 15,000 men, close in. They get -across the plain, dropping a few hundreds, and -smash the wire. Drunkenly dizzy, flaring with -the lust of battle, the vanguard tears clothes, -limbs, and tosses on the treacherous barbs.</p> - -<p>They have no scissors, no choppers, no axes. -Worse, they have no time. They keep on at the -fence, gashing shins, stripped of impediments, -down to the instincts and passions, all discipline -gone, every vestige of civilization lost. Now -they are through, half-naked, savage, yelling, -even Japanese stoicism gone. Up to the very -muzzles of the first entrenchment they surge, -waver and break like the dash of angry waves -against a rock-bound coast. It seems no tide or -wind can melt that precipitous front. But only -seems. A rest, a terrible breathing spell, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> -slow, wounded gasp of an animal in pain, and -again the intrepid Japanese lash their haggard -forms against that low trench. Glory! They -win! The Rising Sun glares in the afternoon -as it greeted the sun of that morning above -Kinchow.</p> - -<p>Yet only a quarter of the battle is won. -Another rest. Another assault. Again and -again they go up. Nine times they hammer -away, muskets to jowl, heads down like bulls in -the ring, with one thought; nay! not a thought, -an instinct—to win or die.</p> - -<p>The officers are picked off by sharpshooters, -as flies are flicked from a molasses jug. Two -colonels are killed, the list of done captains -swells. Then, through the haze, commanding -the first division, looms a prince of the blood, -the general whose peeress-mother is but this -afternoon smiling serene on Tokyo heights. He -below Kinchow, smoke-stained, grimed with -death, hears the artillery report that ammunition -is about gone, but one round left and Nanshan -still Russian. Defeat stares Prince-General -in the face. Retreat, disgrace seems right -ahead. And orders were to “take Port Arthur.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> -Smiling, he tells the gunners to wait. “Charge -again,” he says.</p> - -<p>So up they go, for the tenth and last time. At -the top more civilized warfare. Spottsylvania -Court House was no more savage. Japanese -bayonets clash with Russian sabers. Bayonets -struck from hands they grasp knives carried -suicidally in belts. Thus, hand to hand, they -grapple, sweat, bleed, shout, expire. The -veneer of centuries sloughed, as a snake his -cast-off skin, they spit and chew, claw and grip -as their forefathers beyond the memory of -man.</p> - -<p>The Prince-General waits, ready to fire his -last round, and retreat, hopeless. It has been a -desperate fight—yes, reckless, unparalleled. If -lost he loses nobly. “Are you through, General?” -his aide asks. “I have just begun my -part of the fighting,” he answers. His name is -Fushimi—remember it. As he speaks a weak -cry goes up—weak because even victory cannot -rouse spirits so terribly taxed.</p> - -<p>It was a bloody sun going down in Korea Bay -that night, but it saw its rising counterpart -flaunting above Nanshan, while the Russians<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> -were making use of the best part of their -apparel, sprinting towards the Tiger’s Tail.</p> - -<p>The cost! The fleeing ones left five hundred -corpses in the four trenches. The others paid -seven times that price—killed and wounded—to -turn across the page of the world’s warfare that -word Nanshan, in company with two others, -perhaps above them—Balaklava and Missionary -Ridge.</p> - -<p>Now who pays for this war?</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span></p> - - <div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="Chapter_Four" id="Chapter_Four"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">Chapter Four</a><br /> -<span class="fs70 lsp0">THE JAPANESE KITCHENER</span></h2> - </div> - -<div><img class="drop-cap" src="images/044.jpg" width="75" alt="" /></div> - -<p class="drop-cap">Headquarters, Third Imperial -Army, Before Port Arthur, Oct. 12th:</p> - -<p class="noindent">“Goddama’s here!”</p> - -<p class="noindent">“Who?”</p> - -<p>“General Goddam—what’s his name?”</p> - -<p>“Kodama?”</p> - -<p>“That’s it. Who is he? They couldn’t do -more for the Emperor—special train, guard -mounted, and all that. He came while I was -in the staff tent—a mite of a fellow in a huge -coat.”</p> - -<p>Thus Villiers two weeks ago announced the -advent to the army of the Chief of the General -Staff. Who is he? The soldiers know, for -they have a verse in their interminable war song:</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"><div class="poetry"> -<p class="verseq">“On with Nippon, down with Russia</p> -<p class="verse2">Is the badge of our belief;</p> -<p class="verse">The Son of Heaven sends us saké,</p> -<p class="verse2">And Kodama sends us beef!”</p> -</div></div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span></p> - -<p>But who is he? A poor, unlettered samurai of -the famous Censhu clan who to-day, at fifty-two -years of age, rules Japan and guides her armies. -Many will dispute this. They will tell you that -the illustrious Mutsuhito, member of the oldest -dynasty in the world, rules Japan. They believe -that the Marshal Marquis Oyama and the -Marshal Marquis Yamagata, veteran spirits, -great warriors, shrewd in counsel, valorous in -conflict, guide their armies. They forget, perhaps -they do not know, that Gentaro Kodama, -whose rank is that of Lieutenant-General, his -title Baron, his position Assistant Chief of the -General Staff, thinks while the others sleep and -works while the others eat; that the “illustrious -ones” may “guide” and “rule.” People seldom -know the boss behind the President, the -power behind the throne, or the advisor at the -general’s ear.</p> - -<p>Most public men in Japan will tell you that -Kodama is an unsafe person of second-rate -capacity. That is what the Directorate said of -Napoleon, it is what Halleck and his staff said -of Grant, it is what the Crown Prince said of -Von Moltke. They will tell you that his charge<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> -of the commissary and transport in the China -war was an accident. That is what the Directorate -said of Napoleon after Egypt, what Halleck -said of Grant after Donelson and Henry, what -the Crown Prince said of Von Moltke before -the Franco-Prussian war.</p> - -<p>The public men sent Kodama to Formosa to -get rid of him, as Napoleon was sent to Italy, -as Grant was sent to Pittsburg Landing, as Von -Moltke was shipped from Metz. Kodama went -and raised Formosa from savagery to commerce -and prosperity. He could have been Prime -Minister. “No,” he said. “I would rather -pull strings than be one of the strings to be -pulled. Russia is peeking up over the border. -Let us prepare. Give me a desk in the War -Office.”</p> - -<p>The public men shook hands, grateful that the -unsafe upstart was out of the way. Only soldiers -and seers foresee war. Kodama is not a -seer. The public men reveled in peace and -wondered occasionally that Kodama should bury -himself in that dry hole of a war office. They -were grateful because the unsafe upstart kept -out of the way.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span></p> - -<p>Then the war came and what a scrimmage -there was as the public men scrambled for place! -One had his finger on things; this only one knew -just where, when and how to strike. He alone -knew where every merchant steamer in Japan -was and how quick each could be turned into a -transport. He alone knew the points in the -Korean coast where an army could be landed -and how quick it could be gotten there. Above -all he had audacity—the audacity of genius. -His name was Gentaro Kodama, sometime military -governor of Formosa, sometime chief of -the etape bureau.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/i093.jpg" width="525" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="fs80 right"><em>From Stereograph, Copyright by H. C. White Co., N. Y.</em></p> - -GENERAL BARON KODAMA<br /> - -The photograph shows the Chief of the Japanese Staff -on his doorstep.</div> -</div> - -<p>How shameful for the upstart to command! -He had never left his native land. He spoke -only Japanese. He had a most vulgar way of -pitching into things, of living on the tick of the -watch, of showing people in and out minus -ceremony, of laughing as a boy might at the -things he liked and of frowning ingenuously -at what displeased him. More horrors! He -scorned a frock coat for ordinary wear and stuck -to a kimono. Only upstarts defy the fashions. -Sometimes, however, the upstart happens to be -a great man—a Socrates barefoot, a Grant without<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> -his shoulder straps. Now there were plenty -of men who had been abroad, who could speak -French and English perfectly, who could crease -their trousers and who could add the proper dignity -to a function. Besides, Kodama was only -a lieutenant-general, of whom the realm had a -dozen others, to say nothing of four full generals, -two field marshals and an emperor. Why -should he run the war?</p> - -<p>But Yamagata and Oyama knew and the -Emperor knew. They were too keen not to see -and they were too patriotic to let Japan suffer. -They could not give Kodama the place, but they -crowned him with power. So to-day he has the -only coach on the Japanese end of the Trans-Siberian -railway and is the first to pass over the -rebuilt road from Liaoyang to within sight of -Port Arthur.</p> - -<p>Yamagata stays in Tokyo, one foot in the -grave, holding himself to work with will and -prayer, snowed with seventy years, in counsel -with the Emperor; Oyama, loved by the people, -always a figurehead, goes to command the northern -armies, and Nogi is given the glory of reducing -the “Gibraltar of the East,” but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> -Kodama, with his hands on everything, the -brains of all, unifies the whole. I saw him leave -Tokyo, cheered by the coolies of the streets, who, -like the Emperor and his marshals, know. Already -the campaign was in his hands. He went -straight to Liaoyang and saw the first great blow -struck at Kuropatkin. Then he came here, -stayed two days, saw his plans being effected to -his satisfaction and got back to Liaoyang before -the battle of the Shaho. It was on his way back, -during the day’s rest in Dalny, that I saw him -for the second time, when he granted me an -interview, in which he made his first public -utterance.</p> - -<p>Certain names flash across an age as meteors -across a sky. Cæsar and Napoleon are such -names to the student of history, Bernhardt and -Irving to the lover of the stage, Shakespeare to -the man of books. Their mere pronouncement -has a mysterious power, some occult influence -to startle and make dumb. Like a searchlight’s -flare they throw one into a hopeless sense of insignificance -and awe. So it was with me, a student -of the war, when Villiers uttered that word, -“Goddama,” two weeks ago. I recalled the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> -months in Tokyo when we stormed the war -office in vain, how London, Washington and -Berlin brought their influences to bear, how the -cabinet was assembled, how the ministers -pleaded that correspondents, creators of that -vast, indefinable power called “public opinion” -have some rights. Kodama said they had no -rights; they might have privileges, but no rights. -One day a grave-faced official announced: “I -am very sorry, gentlemen, but you will have to -wait the pleasure of General Kodama. We -have done all we could for you. The question -now is, shall the ministers or Kodama run the -war? I much fear Kodama is the man of the -hour.”</p> - -<p>Thus the name rose over me as a symbol of -power and hauteur. Three days ago I started to -Dalny from the front to lay in stores. There -was a four- or five-mile walk to Cho-ray-che, the -field base where acres are covered with rice and -ammunition cases and where a shattered Russian -station is being used by the Japanese commissary. -On the siding lay the train of flat cars we -were to take. In the center was the first coach -seen on the Liaotung since the battle of Nanshan,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> -May 26th. It was an ordinary Japanese third-class -coach, with paneled doors for each compartment, -and hard seats. Out of the corner -chimney rose a whirl of smoke and it was easy -to see what an improvement even those hard -seats would be over the tops of ammunition cases -where there was a three-hour ride to be made in -the face of a sleet Manchurian wind.</p> - -<p>“Back to civilization,” I cried.</p> - -<p>“Not for us,” said Gotoh, my interpreter. -“That is General Kodama’s coach. It was -transported especially for him and he has just -brought it down from Liaoyang.”</p> - -<p>Then I saw him, with his salient, pointed chin, -and his goatee like a French noble, bent over an -improvised table, scanning papers. Five or six -members of his staff gazed lazily out at a company -of soldiers doing fatigue duty with the -empty ammunition cases, swarming up over the -track and back again, human ants. They had -heard the captain say the eyes of Kodama were -upon them and they worked feverishly, with -rhythmical precision. The General never saw -them. His staff did, but he had work to do, and -he knew the men were doing theirs.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span></p> - -<p>As we lay shivering on that jolty ride into -Dalny, day dying out with bursts of grand color -and night coming in to the orchestral music of -battle opening in our rear, Gotoh snuggled -among the empty cases at my feet, pulled his -overcoat about his head, and hummed a song -composed by the biwa players of Kioto:</p> - -<p>“As a slender boat alone in a great storm,” it -ran, “so Japan sails the sea of modern civilization; -does she not then need great leaders for -her forty million souls!”</p> - -<p>The mudflats of the bay were chocolate -brown in late sunset as we turned south and slid -into the city, shivering, crouched low on the -pouches kept huge for bullets anon. Two kerosene -lamps in the coach and the sparks from the -engine streaked the night as we tooted into the -revamped station of spruce and corrugated tin -which stands where the hole in the ground was -out of which the Russians blew their beautiful -Byzantine architecture. We slipped to the -ground, cold, hungry, tired, and slouched under -the two arc lights that make Dalny a brilliant -metropolis after our six weeks around camp -fires and tallow dips.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p> - -<p>Hurrying along I suddenly found myself in -a group of officers bound the same way. All -but one instinctively fell back and left me ahead -with a tub of a man in a fur coat and a red cap -with two braid stripes which told him to be a -lieutenant-general. Swathed to his ankles in -an overcoat of thick martens he looked huge, but -the two red braids and the star of Nippon were -level with my armpit. When he shook hands -he lost all the clumsiness of the fur. As his -fingers grasped mine in real earnest there passed -from them the spirit of the island empire—its -tininess, its audacity, its febrile intensity—for -the grip was sinuous and sure as the clasp of a -wild thing, hearty and elegant as a comrade’s. -He walked with the stately swing of a star actor, -poised his cigar with the air of a gentleman of -leisure and smiled roguishly on me as he talked. -A word brought a thin man in spectacles—his -secretary—from the group behind. Through -him the General said he had not seen a foreigner -in three months, he remembered me from a -chance word over a tiffin in the Shiba detached -palace last May, and would I be kind enough to -call on him to-morrow when he would have a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> -day of rest before his trip north toward the -Shaho. We parted at the first corner and he -walked on with his stately swing, which his -enemies call the strut of a turkey cock, his staff -grouped artistically behind.</p> - -<p>Dalny bristled with the military. The base -now of all the armies, it had become a huge supply -depot through which passed the food and -ammunition for a third of a million men, and to -which poured the dribble of wounded. Every -house in the Russian quarter, including two -magnificent churches and the fine hotel, were -used for hospitals, in which four thousand -patients then were. A hospital ship left every -day for Japan, carrying from 200 to 1,000 -wounded and prisoners. Each day a transport -came in bearing twice as many fresh troops. A -brigade had just landed and was to be sent -north at dawn to take the place of the lost -in the Liaoyang battle. There was no barrack -room, and though the general wore a -fur coat his men stacked arms on the curbs -and slept on the pavements. It was two days -after the arrival of the advance guard of -the civic invasion of Manchuria. Fifteen Tokyo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span> -and Osacca merchants had left home with -all their fortunes to try luck in a new land. -In a Chinese restaurant that night I met one of -them, an old Tokyo friend who spoke English. -It was a great moment in his life, he said, this -parting with the old and taking on of the new. -He had already been given a house in the old -Russian quarter at a nominal rental, which he -expected later to acquire from his government -at a low figure. In a few days he expected to -open a store. He asked me to call on him and -gave me his card with an address in “Nogimachi.” -Thus I learned that all the town -has been re-christened. The old Russian -names attached to the elegant streets which -looked more like roads among fashionable -English villas were changed. Japanese generals -had been honored. The chief hospital -was in Oyamamachi, the etape office on Yamagatamachi, -the reserve detail bivouacked on -Fukishimamachi and I slept on Kurokimachi.</p> - -<p>In Kodamamachi Gotoh and I the next day -called on General Kodama, who was living in -the Russian Mayor’s house. In a side room -where the secretary ushered us we waited for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> -General, then in his bath. This gave us time -to examine the house. The Mayor was the -engineer who laid out Dalny, and, naturally, he -spread himself on his own home. Three stories -high, with a wide balcony, a yard full of flowers -and a big brick fence, it looks out on the convergence -of the two main streets. It is built like the -early palaces on what is now Tar Flat in San -Francisco, with casements two feet thick, buttressed -by solid masonry. The walls are thick -enough to harbor great Russian stoves and bear -evidence to the coming cold. The ceilings are -enormously high, the double windows stained -glass, the balustrades massive, the flooring of -matched hardwood polished, all conveniences in -the latest modern style. I know of no house in -all Japan so fine. The panels were scratched -in places where the Chinese bandits had sacked, -and there was little furniture. Otherwise, all -was in good condition. In scorn of the place -the Japanese guard had slipped his neat, low -futon into an alcove, but in respect he stood at -“present arms,” his rifle loaded, to prevent outlawry. -The silence was deep, the dispatch of -business swift. Occasionally a messenger passed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> -through the hall, with no hurry and with no -dignity. It would have been difficult to persuade -Sherlock Holmes that the army was about.</p> - -<p>Presently the secretary announced that the -General was ready, and led us down a corridor -to a side room on the west, which the sunlight, -falling through the stained windows, dyed purple -and gold. As we advanced I could not but -think of the superb setting Mansfield gave the -throne room scene in “Richard III,” and how -he knelt by the dais as the light died out, -whispering to himself, “Richard, to thy -work!”</p> - -<p>Here there was no false splendor, only the -light of purple and gold—and a great character. -I felt his presence before he advanced -to meet me with a lithe stride. He shook hands -with the intensity of the night before and again -I felt that clasp as of a palm all sinew and -nerves. But there was gayety in his gesture -as he threw his hands out, palms up, like -a Frenchman, and bade me welcome. He wore -a kimono and slippers—nothing more. I could -see the bare V sloping in to his chest, thin and -skin-drawn, and it was plain where the brown<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> -of sun-tan shaded into the clothes-covered white. -He stepped back around a table and, dropping -the slippers, climbed into a great chair, against -whose russet leather he nestled the kimono -and became lost, curling his bare toes under, -whence, from time to time, they peeked and -wiggled.</p> - -<p>Overwhelmed by his littleness, for the swivel -armchair could easily have held three generals -like him and have had room left, top and bottom, -for several colonels and a major, I thought -of the huge overcoat of the night before and remembered -what Lincoln said to Grant when the -two met Alexander H. Stephens in a similar -greatcoat on the <i>River Queen</i> in the fall of ’64: -“That certainly is the littlest ear out of the biggest -shuck that ever I did see.”</p> - -<p>Gotoh and the General plunged into the labyrinths -of the impossible Japanese language and -left me to the joy of studying the toes and mustaches -of this remarkable personality. He did -not touch his mustaches, which, though long, -had none of the ordinary poise and polish. No. -They partook of the nature of the man and -seemed the superficial ganglia of his sensitive<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> -alertness. Three single hairs from each side, -twisted in a loose wisp, glimmed the air furiously -like the whiskers of a cat, as the General’s -salient, pointed chin chopped out the sentences. -Then I noticed a phenomenon. While the body -of the mustache and the whiskers on one side -were as black as my coat, untouched by time, the -right wisp was white with hoary snow. It was -as if the Genius of his time had selected him -from among the common race of men and -touched him there.</p> - -<p>“The General wishes to apologize for receiving -you this way—in a kimono.” At last the -interpreter spoke, after the two had been chattering -several minutes. Could it really be the -great General familiar with a mere man of -words like Gotoh, so insinuating the smile, so -comradely the gossip? Yet, doubtless, in that -few minutes he got from Gotoh every pertinent -rag of information the interpreter had about me. -“But he has been a long time without the luxury -of a good bath, and the Russian Mayor left a -fine one——”</p> - -<p>“Tell the General,” I interrupted, “that he -is the first man I have met in six months who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> -has given me the satisfaction of appearing as he -is. This is his finest tribute to Western civilization—informality.”</p> - -<p>Then they went at it again—chattering. The -General, thrusting his elbows on the table, -banged his chops into his palms, and, with his -eyes, pierced first me, then Gotoh, a roguish -twinkle lighting up his face for an instant to be -replaced by the curl of irony on his lips. Could -this be the man of lightning decision, and of -iron will, who gave the order on February 8th -to attack Port Arthur before a declaration of -war? I looked at his head, round and small like -a bullet, yet singularly long from nose bridge -to dome. The absence of excess tissue, skin -stretched tight over parietal bones and neck -scrawny from spirited strain, together with a -peculiar atmosphere of concentration and mastery -which invested him, said it was as full of -meat as an Edam cheese. Not a statesman, the -ministers say, but a giant of organization, a master -of detail, the brains of new Japan.</p> - -<p>Is he not also the greatest editor in the history -of journalism? Because it is he who for six -months has cornered the news market of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> -world, so that, until the present time, not a -single authentic account has come from the field -except those issued in the official reports of his -own generals. He has controlled the news as he -has controlled the armies—noiselessly, perhaps -clandestinely, but nevertheless absolutely. If -the telegraph announces Japanese victories, he -reasoned, the public will not listen to the wail -of the special correspondent. He has substituted -fact for criticism, and, like the Duke of -Wellington, announces his victories first, his reverses -afterward. Now that the campaign -is outlined and all can see what he is driving -at, the time for speech has come; so he -speaks.</p> - -<p>“You have seen Port Arthur. You may think -it easy to take,” he went on through Gotoh. I -protested.</p> - -<p>“It is not easy,” he continued. “It is quite -difficult to take.”</p> - -<p>“Of course—of course—thirty forts—ten -years of engineering—impregnable natural defenses—a -stubborn army of great fighters—clever -officers to face——”</p> - -<p>“But——” he reached halfway across the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> -table, not waiting for Gotoh to tell him what I -said, and I had no need of an interpreter to know -the five words he uttered:</p> - -<p>“I hold Port Arthur there!” I looked into -the hollow of his hand, twitching nervously, and -saw the palm that is without bones, the palm all -nerves and sinew.</p> - -<p>“But where will the army winter? You are -not building barracks. You have only shelter -tents, flimsy as paper, which the Manchurian -winds would laugh at.”</p> - -<p>“Do not worry. You shall winter inside. -We will take it soon. I hesitate to use the big -guns for fear of hurting noncombatants.”</p> - -<p>Then the tea came, via a soldier whose -shoulder straps bearing the figure 9 showed him -to be one of the few survivors of the famous 9th -regiment, which lost 94 per cent. of its men in -repeated unsuccessful assaults on the Cock’s -Comb forts during the three days battle from -August 21st to 23d, and I saw that Kodama, like -Nogi, rewards the heroism of private soldiers -by relieving them from duty on the firing line -and giving them honorable work as body -servants.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p> - -<p>The General fondled his tea, delicious in a -lacquered cup; Giokuro it was, the best Japan -grows, and bits of the leaf glittered in the bottom -like particles of steel. The steam curled about -his face. He lit a cigar, puffed vigorously, and -smoke wreathed with steam. Through the haze -his whiskers, twisted in a loose wisp, bobbed -spasmodically as his pointed chin spat out the -sentences. He pulled himself further together, -tying his legs acrobatically, and made room in -the great chair for still another general. I wondered -if he would disappear entirely, wizard-like, -in a cloud of smoke. Then I thought of -that criminal condemned to capital punishment, -executed in experiment by the tea expert, who -drank and drank until he shriveled and shrunk -to powdery fiber. Plainly Giokuro, Havana -and hot baths had helped hard work in drying -up this tiny great man.</p> - -<p>“We can’t tell what damage the big guns will -do,” went on the aspirate voice out of the smoke. -Gotoh was turning over the sentences now as -fast as they came. “This is the first time in history -that coast defense guns have battled with -each other. We have brought ours from Japan.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[101]</a></span> -As the Russians cannot use theirs against our -navy they have turned them landward.”</p> - -<p>“Why not against your navy?”</p> - -<p>“Because—” he quickly drew from a drawer -a brass tube attached to a pot of India ink. Out -of the tube he drew a brush and began sketching -nervously on a piece of blotting paper. The -brass tube was a yatate, the first one I have seen -in the army. Generations before siege artillery -Japanese warriors who took arrow holders from -the enemy disgraced them by converting them -into ink pots and brush holders, for to soil a -thing with business in those days was to disgrace -it. But merchants found the device a neat invention -and made arrow holders in miniature. -The idea spread and soon all the men of business -in the empire carried yatates in their belts. The -army discarded them in disgust. Now Kodama -comes, oblivious of tradition, satisfying his caprice -and comfort, and to his work, as a samurai -of old, introduces the yatate. When he finds the -samurai superstition concerning the gaining of -eternal life by a soldier killed in battle of value -in his chess game of war he cherishes the belief, -but when the silly prejudice against business<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> -gets in his way he cuts acquaintance with the -samurai.</p> - -<p>Quickly, under the yatate brush, there grew -a sketch of Port Arthur and the peninsula—curves -for the east and west harbor, a cross for -the town, fuzz for Liaotishan, a loop for the -Tiger’s Tail. Then from east to west of the -Liaotung he drew a dotted line in a semicircle -and paralleled it with another dotted line.</p> - -<p>“Our mines,” he said, pointing to the outer; -“their mines,” pointing to the inner. “We -have laid a series of electric mines counter to -theirs, which, if firing at, they explode, will -ignite their series and damage their coast defenses -and harbor. Locked in this mutual mining -our navy and their coast defense must remain -inactive, as neither cares to take an initiative. -So they have turned not only their coast defense, -but their navy guns landward. We, in reply, -have landed our navy guns and brought from -Japan our coast defense artillery. So you will -see the spectacle of two great naval equipments -fighting on land. I wish I could bring all the -tacticians in the world to witness. There will -be much to learn for future warfare.” He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> -puffed vigorously. The whiskers poised themselves. -His eyes, looking at the sketch, were -lost in introspection. He was reveling in the -situation.</p> - -<p>“You think it, then, a battle of strategists?”</p> - -<p>“Only that. This is entirely a game of strategy. -The chief question is: are our naval and -siege guns, reinforced by field artillery, more -powerful than their naval and coast defenses -reinforcing the forts? Lesser questions concern -the individual generalship of divisions and -brigades.”</p> - -<p>“But the boy in khaki—is he not the deciding -force?” My mind ran back to those terrible -August days when I lay in the broiling sun -watching the soldiers hurled against the barbed -wire, under the machine guns, onto the parapets, -only to melt away like chaff before the -wind. I thought of the night in the storm when -the general in command gave the order to retreat, -but before his aide could deliver it to the -colonel in the field, the soldiers, impatient, went -in and took the opposing trenches. I thought of -all the sights in that mighty game I had just -left; great guns in the shock of battle peppered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> -by shrapnel but holding to their work like bulldogs -on the grip, the sappers creeping with pick -and shovel through the night hounded by shells, -the pioneers going up with pincers to nip the -wire met by the death sprinkle of Maxims, the -infantry in a thin brown line following, the men -popped out as expert drivers flick off flies with -a whiplash, but advancing, advancing, till a -handful out of a host creeps up, and flings itself, -fanatical with the lust of battle, worn in the gory -charge so that life never can be the same again -in sweetness and in peace, into the redoubt paid -for a dozen times with blood, and which even -then is but curtain raiser for drama still more -heartrending, because, beyond, rising tier on -tier, series after series, are redoubts and forts, -trenches and barbed wire, moats and gorges, -rifles and cannon until the soul grows sick with -the thought that Port Arthur must be bought -with sacrifice so great, agony so monstrous.</p> - -<p>“No,” said Kodama. “This is a question of -military strategy.” He thrust the yatate from -him, stretched back into his chair and puffed -cigar wreathings into the air. They looked like -the smoke of a volley from a battery of howitzers.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> -As he settled down to the talk again, sometimes -his eyes flashing, sometimes his mustaches, one -black, the other white with a venerable sign, -twitching, his bare toes twisting with suppressed -energy, I thought I saw a huge black spider -serene in the Russian chair.</p> - -<p>“Will you bring any more reserves?”</p> - -<p>“No. We have an army large enough to take -Port Arthur. The enemy has about 20,000 men, -we about 60,000. Three to one makes the odds -about even when you consider the defenses. -More men are not necessary. It is not a question -of men now, but of ammunition and generalship.”</p> - -<p>“How about food? It has been reported that -you let junks and even transports run the blockade, -that you won’t starve them out, but want the -glory of forcing them to surrender?”</p> - -<p>His eyes snapped as he answered: “That -is absolutely false. We have them entirely -hemmed in and maintain a perfect blockade.”</p> - -<p>“Do you find the forts stronger than you expected?”</p> - -<p>“They are very well built—on the Belgian -model, I believe. They are like the forts on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> -Belgian frontier where the lay is similar. -Toward the sea side they are iron plated, but -toward us there is only earth, with some concrete -and masonry. It is the arrangement that -puzzles us. A very clever engineer must have -devised them, for we find an absolute change -from the Chinese war of ten years ago when we -took Port Arthur in a day. Then, one fort, Issusan, -taken the others fell. That was the key to -the position. Now, one cannot say that any -single fort is the key. All are so arranged we -must take them in detail. The capture of one -means only the capture of an individual fort, not -of a series as in the old days. Study as we may -we find it difficult to minimize their strength. -They have even carried the fortifications to such -an extent that the sea escarpments jut over and -they bathe there with ease and safety.”</p> - -<p>He looked so cosy in his kimono, redolent of -the bath, that I ventured: “You envy them, -then. Aha! This is the secret of Japanese persistence. -The Russians have such a fine place -to bathe.”</p> - -<p>He gurgled and continued: “We began yesterday -to shell with our new guns—the Osacca<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> -mortars. It will be most interesting to watch -their effect on the earth forts.”</p> - -<p>The General paused. It was time to go. We -had taken the better part of an hour from him. -We rose. He slipped from the chair, tickled -his toes into his slippers, and threw his shoulders -back jauntily, giving himself the air that a -little man does unconsciously when a sense of -the physical is borne in upon him.</p> - -<p>Then I felt that creepy clasp as of a boneless -hand. When I closed the door he crept back to -his perch. So I left him, noiseless leader of -forty millions, swathed in the great Russian -chair, lost in the Mayor’s Byzantine house, -withered to essence like a tea leaf.</p> - -<p>And his salary is the same as that of a congressman -of the United States.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span></p> - - <div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="Chapter_Five" id="Chapter_Five"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">Chapter Five</a><br /> -<span class="fs70 lsp0">CAMP</span></h2> - </div> - -<div><img class="drop-cap" src="images/118.jpg" width="75" alt="" /></div> - -<p class="drop-cap">Before Port Arthur, Headquarters -Third Imperial Army, Oct. 9th: -We have left the mountain—the -Phœnix—where by day we saw artillery -duels and by night flashes of lightning -illumining the big guns, while the plains stood -out under the searchlights. There we could -step from our lunch table and, down the cliff, -look into the upturned ecstasy of a victorious -army, or feel the dull weight of its despair surge -in and close upon us.</p> - -<p>Now we are with the army, part of it. From -the Manchurian hut, where we live in insect -powder, on tinned beef, biscuit and jam, we go -a few rods to a plateau and look into Port -Arthur. The path of the army can be traced by -beer bottles—Asahi, Yebisu, Kabuta and Saporo—but -in all the army there is not a guardhouse. -If the company has a man who doesn’t smoke<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> -cigarettes he is pointed out as a curiosity; the -empty boxes—Peacock, Tokiwa, Pinhead, Old -Rip, Cherry and Star—dot the fields thick as -the beer bottles; the price of a box is two days’ -pay; there is no way to have money sent from -Japan to the front, but a field savings bank to -take it back; and yet, into this field bank, from -the three cents a day pay, in spite of the beer and -the cigarettes, over $10,000 has gone since the -opening of the campaign. Approach a battery -and find a lot of uncouth boys, gentle and -friendly as children, curious as savages, as lacking -in assertion as a comedian off the stage; you -take them for menials, for most Americans in -such a place would carry mountains of dignity -and be covered with placards, “hands off.” -These are expert gunners, handling scientific -instruments, and yet simple. Generals the same! -It is an unaccountable thing, this naturalness -and modesty, like the morality of a man of -genius. A paradox? Yes; when you think of -what fighters they are! But how does a hen -know when to turn her eggs, and where does a -girl carry her powder puff?</p> - -<p>But to us, of whom there are three—Frederic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> -Villiers, the war artist, James Ricalton, the -war photographer, and myself. The public -knows about Villiers, hero of Plevna and the -Soudan, discoverer of artistic Abyssinia, decorated -by seven governments, veteran of seventeen -campaigns, dean of the war correspondents, -who has traveled the world round lecturing, -sketching, writing. The public knows less of -Ricalton, one of its obscure great men. He has -gone through a long life with his nose to his -work, like a dog to a scent, heedless of fame and -money. He is original, alone, and has done -things no other man has done. It was he that -Thomas A. Edison sent into all the tropical -jungles twenty years ago to search for a vegetable -fiber for the electric lamp. He took most -of the photographs for John H. Stoddard’s lectures. -He was the first foreigner to walk -through northern Russia, 1,500 miles from -Archangel to St. Petersburg. He has traveled -through every country on the globe, exposing -75,000 negatives, and has photographed most of -the great men of his generation. Of late years -he has become one of the most expert of war -photographers. In the Philippines he was the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> -only man to get troops actually firing on the foe. -At the battle of Caloocan a soldier near him was -winged; Ricalton picked up the useless rifle, -grabbed the cartridge belt and went up with the -skirmishers. At the siege of Tien Tsin he stood -on the walls and photographed Americans as -they were dropped by Chinese bullets. Little -the public knows when it sees photographs of -war how few of them come from the front. -Ricalton is one of the few who gets the real -thing. He is sixty years old, yet he tramps ten -and twenty miles a day with a thirty-pound camera -under his arm, for he sneers at the snap shot -and will carry a tripod. Yet he outlasts the -young men on the march. Here he goes everywhere—into -captured forts while the corpses -are still about, through the most dangerous artillery -positions, among reserves waiting for battle, -into the actual fighting if they would let him. -To-day he is off to gratify one of his few remaining -ambitions, for he is sighing like Alexander -at already exhausting the world. He wants to -get one of the new siege shells, 500 weight, as it -leaves the gun on its trip to the battleships in the -bay. Four of these shells were dropped yesterday<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> -into the <em>Retvizan</em> and <em>Pallada</em>. To-day the -gunners will try to put in another. Ricalton -plans to have his camera all set and tilted at the -proper angle behind. Then as the gunner pulls -the lanyard he presses the bulb. He has stuffed -his ears with cotton so the shock will not break -the drums, for a gunner yesterday was deafened -for life. He will probably be hurled to the -ground and his camera may be smashed, but he -wants that shell hurtling through the air, no -bigger than a bee, while the dust of the recoil -curls up over the emplacement and all the -grand tensity of power and motion is about -the place.</p> - -<p>“Why take the risk?” say I, “when you can -so easily take the gun at rest and then paint in a -little dust and that wee dot up in the air.”</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/i123.jpg" width="650" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> - -BO-O-OM!<br /> - -Discharge of the Japanese 11-inch Mortar during the Grand Bombardment of October 29. The gun -is a mile and a half away, and is firing into the Two Dragon Redoubt. -The vibration made a clear photograph impossible.</div> -</div> - -<p>“But it wouldn’t be the real thing,” said he, -as he started off. Then I saw why he is Ricalton -and not some faker at his ease over a chemical -tray in the city. Just now, looking out of -the window under which I write, I can see the -battery where he has gone. It lies snug among -the hills, two great guns cocked on concrete and -flanked by howitzers aloft on peaks. The Russians<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> -have the range and are pumping shells in, -two or three a minute. It looks as if nothing -could live there, but I know that probably not a -man is injured, for I was there yesterday and -saw how safe the dugouts are. Villiers looks -up from his sketching and watches the firing -through his glasses. A ten-incher plunges into -the hillside and the earth boils up as if the foundations -were ripped away.</p> - -<p>“I hope dear old Ricalton is out of that,” he -exclaims.</p> - -<p>“Don’t fear for him. He has gone through -too much to be rapped by that,” I reply. I remember -how he walked there yesterday, his eye -always on a dodgehole. A ten-incher came just -as this one to-day. He threw himself flat on -his stomach, hugging his machine, tenderly as -though it were a baby, in a ditch by the roadside. -Ten yards off the shell exploded. The pieces -flew over and clods of earth fell on him. -Hardly had the pieces stopped before he was up -and after them, for he is as great a curio hunter -as he is a photographer, and he has a house in -Maplewood, New Jersey, converted into a -museum, which the natural history experts declare<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> -is the finest private collection in America. -But enough of Ricalton.</p> - -<p>Along a deeply rutted road in front of our village -we gaze in awe at the big guns and their accouterment -spread beside a narrow-gauge track. -A pile of empty shells with points like needles -and thick as a telephone pole, so heavy two men -can hardly lift one, lies scattered down the slopes. -A recoil vamp lumbers a truck. An ungainly -steel thing nestles belly deep in the sand while -a company of human ants sweats and wrestles -with it. Then suddenly we come upon the -beautiful breech, delicate as clockwork, dazzling -as a jeweler’s case, gleaming in the sun, -and Ricalton exclaims:</p> - -<p>“The only thing that gives one respect for -man—his achievement—is to look at such a piece -of mechanism. It has the power of a jungle of -elephants, yet is as sensitive as a little girl!”</p> - -<p>Some days we take trips off to the various -divisions and get close in for a big battle, feel -the pitch and pallor of war, see heights -assaulted, won and lost, hear the adventure of -conflict from heroic mouths and get in close -upon the red anathema. Then we visit the hospitals<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> -and know the slow agony of it—the suffering, -endurance, silent sacrifice. Two weeks ago -I saw the same operation that was performed on -President McKinley—laparotomy. A soldier’s -stomach was pierced, as McKinley’s was. The -surgeons took it out, sewed it up and replaced it. -To-day I was told the man would recover. He -is a strong, hardy chap, a peasant boy, who lives -on rice, fish and tea, which was not McKinley’s -diet. The soldier at the same time lost his right -arm by amputation. Visiting him again yesterday -I asked how he was getting on.</p> - -<p>“Well enough,” he replied. “The hard -thing is not to think about it. You’re all right -if you only don’t think. It’s the mind that rips -one up, sir, the doctor says.”</p> - -<p>Our village shelters most of the impedimenta -that an army headquarters must carry. Band-musicians -are our neighbors. The interpreters, -next door, swap tea, cigarettes and news with us. -The Russian interpreter, who lived in Moscow -three years, sketches so well, Villiers says he will -take him to Paris and make him the fashion. -Behind us are the Japanese correspondents, so -clandestine in their ways that even a Manchurian<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> -farmer must know they are yellow journal -reporters. Of a morning we see a curious pair -strolling off over the hills, one with a fowling-piece, -looking for snipe, the other with a camera -watching for a chance to get a shell as it explodes. -One is Mr. Arriga, the expert on international -law, who will adjudicate all property -rights as soon as Port Arthur falls; the other is -the official photographer.</p> - -<p>Then there are the war correspondents, who -have a camp three miles off. In bargaining for -junks to take the news out, two of the cable men -have become so bitter in rivalry that they go -around with Mauser pistols, each threatening -to shoot the other if he tells how the censor was -evaded. There is the Norwegian nobleman with -the eyes of a viking who is writing serials for -one of Harmsworth’s London dailies. Finally, -there is what Villiers calls “The Bartlett pair”—A. -Bascom Bartlett, Esq., son of the Hon. -E. Bascom Bartlett, M. P., who came out to -see the fun and what Villiers calls the Tossup, -because it was a toss-up whether or not he -should come, and who is here to make fun. It -was he, who recently, after hearing a general<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> -tell of the desperate charge of a brigade, patted -the officer on the back and said: “A very noble -act, sir. I shall relate that in Tossup Hall.”</p> - -<p>The elder Tossup is a country brewer in -Yorkshire. The younger insists that he is an -officer and a gentleman and knows how to conduct -himself. But a few days ago he was -caught, while visiting an outpost with an officer, -in a crossfire, and ducked into a trench. The -officer tried to reassure him by following into the -trench. There, while a battle was raging beyond, -and in the presence of all the sublime panorama -that surrounds us here the Tossup said: -“I hope you will come and visit me in England. -We will go to the autumn maneuvers.”</p> - -<p>The officer, not expert with English, pulled -out his dictionary and ran his thumb down -the “ma’s.” “man—man—manur” he read. -“Ah,” he cried at last, “the autumn manuring! -I see, sir, yours is an agricultural country.”</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span></p> - - <div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="Chapter_Six" id="Chapter_Six"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">Chapter Six</a><br /> -<span class="fs70 lsp0">203-METER HILL</span></h2> - </div> - -<div><img class="drop-cap" src="images/130.jpg" width="75" alt="" /></div> - -<p class="drop-cap">What Blaine’s unfortunate “three -R’s” were to his Presidential campaign -“203-Meter Hill” was to the -siege of Port Arthur. Risen to the -dignity of key to the situation, it had, in an ordnance -sense, little to do with the case. It was -but one of seven advance posts for final assault. -A pimple of progress to the engineer, it was not -permanently fortified, did not belong to the -primary scheme of defense, and was dominated -by three of the finest forts—Etzeshan, Anzushan, -and Liaotishan: mountains of the Chair, the -Table, and the Lion’s Mane. For three reasons -heavy guns could not be mounted there. First, -the cost in energy and life would be too vast, because -rifles whose barrels alone weigh from two -to eight tons each would have to be hauled by -hand up 680 feet of rock, a task heroic even in -peace. In war, wedged among three magnificently -intrenched hostile positions, this would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> -be impossible. Second, even if these heavy -guns—only of any value against forts or fleets—had -been gotten there, they would have been -pounded to pieces within an hour of arrival by -the more numerous and better emplaced artillery -of the Chair, the Table, and the Lion’s -Mane. Finally, heavy guns are never emplaced -on mountain peaks in an offensive campaign.</p> - -<p>“203” had one value—a great one. It was -the best point of observation the Japanese had -yet had. Line of vision, not line of fire, was -what they needed. From “203” they could -look into all portions of the harbor that could -float a warship, but, what was more essential, -they could look around the promontory of -Golden Hill into the cove, where the hunted -remnant of the Russian fleet had been hiding, at -loose anchor, since the disastrous attempt to escape -on August 10th. They had no need for better -artillery posts than the positions which they -had held for four months and from which -they had been able to place shells in any spot on -the Russian side.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/i133.jpg" width="500" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="fs80 right"><em>Copyright, 1905, by Collier’s Weekly</em></p> - -THE HYPOSCOPE<br /> - -Showing Lieutenant Oda looking from 203-Meter Hill through the -hyposcope at the Russian fleet in the New -Harbor of Port Arthur</div> -</div> - -<p>“Any spot,” that is, if they knew where the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> -spot was. To locate the spot had been the difficulty. -“203” gave the line of vision, but it was -so wedged in among commanding batteries that -its value depended upon an instrument new to -warfare—the hyposcope. This is merely a telescope -cut in half—the front half elevated above -the other, like the head of an ostrich above the -body, and the two connected by a further length -of scope. In the joints thus formed mirrors are -placed. Thus a view of the interior of Port -Arthur was brought over the topmost trench of -“203” to the eyes and brain of the Japanese lookout, -protected there by the rocks. Through the -hyposcope a lookout could observe the effect of -every shot from his own batteries, located not on -“203” or anywhere near “203,” but distant, -most of them, two or three miles. While he -operated the hyposcope with his left hand, with -his right he held to his ear the receiver of a telephone -connected directly with each of these firing -batteries. These batteries were emplaced, -not on mountain peaks, not on the front of the -mountain range from which their operations -were being directed, but entirely behind this -range, which was parallel to the coast range,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> -forming the permanent line of Russian defense. -From these points, scattered in the rear of the -Japanese position, distant from the Russians, the -nearest half a mile, the farthest three miles, the -work of the bombardment went on. The firing -was what the military man calls “high angle” -or “plunging”; that is, the shell traveled in -the line of a parabola over two mountain ranges, -which separated the Japanese batteries from the -Russian ships. The gunners never had a sight of -what they were firing at, the officers in command -of the batteries never had a sight of what they -were firing at. Only the lookout on “203” -knew where the shells went, and he got his -knowledge through a mirror. This knowledge -was used by the artillery officer, who found the -range by means of a quadrant. The hyposcope, -the telephone, the quadrant—these were the -scientific ganglia that wiped the mountains from -the map of the Liaotung Peninsula, and brought -the operations, in the mind’s eye, to the level of -a billiard table. “203” was the cushion needed -for successful caroming. It would be useless -to lug heavy guns up there; the hyposcope was -carried up, but not artillery.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[122]</a></span></p> - -<p>Dispatches have said that the capture of “203” -gave the besiegers command of the town. Such -dispatches concerning other captured positions -were published repeatedly. Their effect was to -keep the world continuously expecting the fall of -Port Arthur. Let it once be comprehended that -none of the positions captured up to December -15th was permanent, that none was a part of the -grand scheme of defense perfected by the Russians -through the past seven years; that there still -remained seventeen primary and twenty-five -secondary positions on the land side in addition -to the finest forts which are on the sea side, and it -will be apparent that this expectation was not, -until General Stoessel decided that further -resistance was useless, justified by the actual conditions.</p> - -<p>Commanding the town meant little. The -Japanese navy put shells into the town on the 8th -of February, and had been able to put them in -ever since; the army put them in on the 11th of -August, and had been qualified for destruction -ever since. They wanted to save the town. -They looked upon it as their property. Why -smash up what they would have to rebuild?<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> -The fleet had been their chief objective. -Though inert for four months, it was a menace -until sunk; that out of the way, they need not -worry. Of course their shells had searched -about for arsenals and storehouses; if the town -got in the way of the search—well, so much the -worse for the town, but the Japanese effort had -been to save their own. It was not Port Arthur, -but Stoessel and his forts, that Nogi was after, -just as it was not Richmond, but Lee and his -army, that Grant was after.</p> - -<p>As for the strategic position, no one can say -that any one fort at Port Arthur is the key. -Nature assisted expert engineers in devising -those forts. All are so arranged that each is -commanded by two or three, and, in some cases, -by a dozen others; thus when one was taken it -drew Russian fire from its fellows until it became -untenable. Such was the situation at “203-Meter -Hill.” The Japanese had driven the -Russians out, but they were unable to mount -guns of large caliber there, or do aught but -locate a farther station from which to direct final -assaults. Ten years ago, when the Japanese -took Port Arthur from the Chinese in a day, one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> -fort, Etzeshan, taken, the others fell. That was -the key. To-day no single fort is so important. -“203” is dominated by the Table fort, the Table -fort by the Chair fort, the Chair fort by Golden -Hill, and Golden Hill by the Lion’s Mane. -And after all this was taken, there would still -remain the east forts. Yet, the capture of “203” -was decisive. On September 19th, the Japanese -lost two thousand men in trying to take it. The -attempt failed. The division with the job in -hand sat down, waited, and worked. Two -months and a half of sapping, and one day of -assault, on December 4th, turned the trick. -Though it did not mean the fall of Port Arthur, -it meant the beginning of the end. This for the -reason that every contraction in the Russian line -meant a gain in Japanese strength. The smaller -the circumference the less the capacity for resistance. -And, after all, the physical fact of the -fall was simply a question of mathematics. The -loss of life appalls, the spectacle attracts, the -glory inthralls, but the intellect, backed by whatever -impulse it is that gives man resolution for -the supreme sacrifice, commands. A chessboard -and two master minds—such was Port<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span> -Arthur, Nogi, and Stoessel. The checking -move was made as long ago as May 26th, when -the battle of Nanshan was fought. The fate of -Port Arthur was sealed then just as it was sealed -again when “203” was taken.</p> - -<p>Let us look at that September assault on -“203,” of which the one in December was but a -repetition, and glimpse what it meant to storm -Port Arthur. Could all the bloody story of the -siege be told, “203” would be forgotten, a detail -lost in vista, swamped in gigantic operations, -veiled in the mist of vast sacrifices. Yet the -mind, puny as it is, must grasp an incident and -cling tight, as a poet to the fringe of metaphor, -for comprehension even distant.</p> - -<p>Passing from the rear of the army to the front, -you might realize something of the tricky skill -used to move those pawns over that vast chessboard. -To the eye of an eagle all would have -been invisible. The sum of his sight would -have been a tongue of land making faces at the -sea, ridged with deep blotches from whose -recesses thin pricks of smoke slipped to the crack -and roar of great guns.</p> - -<p>Yet lively work was seen. Close to the right<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> -rear was the first battery, a six-gun emplacement -of field four point sevens. At one o’clock in the -afternoon the telephone rang, the lieutenant in -command called, and instantly the redoubt -swarmed with figures that sprang like ants from -the earth. Busy as ants, they answered the order -from brigade headquarters for the signal shot to -open the grand bombardment. They had come -from their bomb-proofs, into which they would -dodge again as soon as the shot was fired. -There was much pride in the chief gunner as he -took a cartridge from its bomb-proof shell chest, -ran to his gun, threw open the cordite chamber, -pulled out the breech block, rammed in the shell, -snapped the block, and stepped back to signal -the lanyard man; more pride than is usual in the -Japanese gunner, a timid, simple being, dexterously -handling his delicate instrument with as -little vanity as he would handle a potato hoe.</p> - -<p>Hurrying on the road to escape the shock, and -looking back, the battery was invisible. The -bewilderment of the eagle, if told that danger -lurked there, would be overwhelming. A shell -spat out, revealing the battery behind a mass of -earth forming a natural redoubt. This was in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> -a narrow valley with only a small range of foothills -between it and the sea, a place later called -“The Valley of the Shadow of Death.” Behind -every mountain shoulder, and up every gorge, -firing high angle over the eminence in front, -was a battery nestled in its redoubt, with bomb-proofs -for the men and bomb-proofs for the -ammunition. It was hardly a valley, but a -ravine, barren of grass, a torrential place through -which, in spring, huge rains tore. Soon other -rain—red rain, powdery and leaden—was to -pour there.</p> - -<p>Directly in front, out of the west, loomed -“203,” flanked by its gigantic brothers, granite-tossed, -the Chair and the Table and the Lion’s -Mane. Bone of the world’s vertebræ, Russia -had capped them with science and determination. -Their cordoned batteries, cunning and -intricate, spoke not a word in reply to the Japanese -taunts hurled in upon them, savage and -vain. Why reply? They knew their strength. -Before “203” lay a height down on the map, like -the disputed key itself, under figures to denote -in meters its reach skyward; “176” they call it, -lacking more intimate speech, but the soldiers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> -quickly dubbed the hill “Namicoyama,” for -they saw its resemblance to a flying fish abundant -in these waters, called by us the trepang, by Japanese -the namico. The mongers of Kamikura, -after disemboweling, inflate this fish for hanging -lamps. There it lay—the namico—its slopes -spread finwise, its two peaks, furze-capped, rising -above the mists of the valley as incandescents -struggle through the fog of the night. Ringed -with barbed wire was each peak and close about -the top were lines of loopholed rock. As the -following step of a stair, “203” rose beyond, -fortified likewise. From the nearer peak the -tardy glint of the sun caught the brass muzzles -of two cannon. From the farther, down the -slope, ran a trench continued to the sea.</p> - -<p>The battle was on. Before the Russian outlook -knew it the Japanese advance was at the -base of Namicoyama. Each man was stripped -to his khaki uniform, his cartridge belt and his -rifle. Four hundred rounds of ammunition -were in the four leather boxes at his belt, and in -his hip pocket was a ration, dubbed with a soldier -laugh, “iron”—three hard biscuits with a piece -of salt fish the size of his palm.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span></p> - -<p>Up they went cautiously, a squad of twenty -at a time, slinking along the ravines, their rifle-butts -dragging the ground; one file of twenty, -then another and another, until the slopes were -dotted with figures colored like the earth—silent, -nimble, tiny.</p> - -<p>Now the artillery was at it heavily. Beginning -with the battery we had seen go into action, -the pieces spoke up, one by one, until near a -hundred guns were spitting fire from the nooks -behind; astonishing to an eagle, but the Russians -seemed not to mind. The shots increased, the -din augmented. A shell appeals to the imagination—snarls -like a wild beast, flings fierce shrieks -into unwilling ears, rends tooth and claw at fear. -The place might have been a nest of demons with -the old devil hen hatching them out. The Japanese -kept those two ridges so hot with shrapnel -that not a man dared show himself. For twenty -yards below the parapet the slope bubbled as -does a pot boiling above the kettle’s brim. Not -a sound from the nearer Russians. From Anzushan, -from Etzeshan, from “203,” and even from -far-off Liaotishan the replies spoke distant and -absurd, but Namicoyama, slated for assault, was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> -silent, silent as though no brass cannon were -mounted in the sight of all men, as though no -twenty companies of sharpshooters were lying -low with Maxims and repeating rifles waiting to -receive the final charge. Were there cowardly -Japanese it was a secret shared by no man with -his neighbor. Sound to the core or not, they -went on with the precision of a clock. As the infantry -advanced, occasionally a huddled figure, -inert, was grouped here and there with others -who moaned piteously. At times a squad, sinking, -would lose itself in a hollow, only to climb -presently up the opposite slope, there to sink on -one knee, rifles at fixed bayonets, while the lieutenant -in command reconnoitered to right or left, -searching for the line of best deploy. Then on, -skurrying another few rods, to another halt, until -they came to the precipitous rocks up which -it seemed a goat would have skinned his shins in -climbing. Here, hugging the mountain proper, -having lost but few, considering the advance -made, they waited for night.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, aloft, hell reigned. Shells constantly -bursting apparently shattered guns and -killed gunners, but when the dust cleared all was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> -instantly life again, the gnomish figures busy—busy -as ants with eggs. For a minute thus, then -all would drop back into the earth simultaneously -with the reply, and at the very moment that -another Russian shell was in upon them.</p> - -<p>Was it the same beyond in Namicoyama and -in “203”? Doubtless the Russians were as safe, -though with them the shells must have been multiplied -by twenties, because the space of a few -rods, lying exposed to every range, received the -constant fire of every Japanese gun. The Russians -had a wider target, a range of hills from -which occasionally they could see smoke curling -upward. It was far more difficult to hit than -the Japanese target, for nothing was plain, all -was guesswork. The Russians could not see a -thing they were aiming at. A range of hills, -seared with autumn, bare of husbandmen, innocent -of apparent defense, alive with hissing -venom, confronted them. They lashed it desperately -as they could, frantically as a boy beset -with nightmare. The little men had a plain -target, parapets outlined against the sky, trenches -clear and distinct. Yet the Japanese were often -covered with dust from bursts on the slope beyond,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> -and through the Valley of the Shadow the -diabolic screeches mounted with the dying of -day. Night came with the wild clamor on in -full fury, the little brown squads still at the base -of Namicoyama, the reserves creeping around -toward “203.”</p> - -<p>Could they climb it—that six hundred feet of -almost perpendicular rock, where, in daytime, -with sticks and hobnailed boots, the best of mountain -climbers would have found an adventure? -And they must go up dragging rifles, shrapnel -dropping among them, shells bursting overhead, -bullets mowing them down, not to rest at the top, -but, once there, to plunge against troops well -rested, superbly intrenched.</p> - -<p>The reserves threw up shelter tents and staked -down the flaps with heavy rocks, but the wind, -howling across from the inlet, flung them to the -laugh of the rising equinoctial. Some sought -rest on bean straw, under blankets, the September -moon streaming in, but there was no rest.</p> - -<p>A flash in the eyes and the mountain is thrown -into a silhouette of fire, then plunged into blackness. -From the extreme Russian left the searchlights -are wheeling into position, one by one,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> -until the whole seven are out, playing day over -the battlefield, throwing suspicious investigation -into the little squads of brown. Science has -intensified war. Formerly men could get their -fill of fighting by day, but now they needs must -flare the candle at both ends. Like Joshua, these -generals are deciding their empires’ fates under -light of their own ordering.</p> - -<p>The second searchlight comes out of the right. -In between, the others dance, now a minuet, now -a tarantella. Then a red line streaks the air, -parabola-like, and its end breaks into molten -balls, illumining the Valley of the Shadow of -Death as by candelabra of stars. Its path is -crossed by another. Still a third leaps into life -till the night is frightful with fireworks. Processions -peaceful and gay have danced through -the cities to such salvoes fostered by Pain. You -have seen them on Coney Island, you have -watched for them on Manhattan Beach, you -have romped through merry summer nights -canopied by their dazzle; you have seen them -split into golden bursts and rain diamonds of -child joy; but do not wish to see them bred by -the Russians, grisly and deadly, laying bare<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> -every joint of action and throwing into ghastly -relief every hope of surprise.</p> - -<p>A growl among the mountains rolls into -power, and a naval shell from our left has burst -in “203.” The forts respond, the mountains reply. -The small arms open up, the machine -guns rattle, the pompoms clatter in. Pitch, -fuzz, dingle and pop are drowned. Crash, -roar, hurtle and boom are out. The devil is -loose.</p> - -<p>A clatter on the stones below comes nearer, -steadily, rhythmically. Listen! The tread of -soldiers marching! Soon an indistinct line -wavers into sight. A low whistle and it turns -square across the Valley of the Shadow toward -that terrible din. Another whistle and it twists -up from single to double file. Each man has -his full kit on his back, an extra pair of hobnailed -boots, the pick, the shovel, the rifle. The steel -is hooded with brass caps, a challenge to the -dew. Officers’ swords, sheathed in dull cloth, -defy the glitter of sunlight and of searchlight. It -is the reserve regiment advancing to reinforce at -dawn. Company by company it passes, and at -the end marches the gray-haired colonel, stumbling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> -in the dark, peering off at the searchlights, -blinking at their bravado. The troops -enfile into the farther ravine and deploy by battalions. -The din lessens not. So another grist -is fed into the mill of war.</p> - -<p>The reserves’ echo dies to the incoming of -crunches on the stones as of a wagon lumbering—a -heavy wagon. Then out of the mists -a caisson rolls behind six horses, the mounts -walking, calmly, slowly. Another caisson and -another, then the guns—one, two, three, four, -five, six in all—while overhead whistles the shot -and beyond gleams the searchlight. The rear -battery is going forward, past the front battery, -almost to the base of Namicoyama, where, at a -sixty-degree angle, it can reinforce the infantry -as the sun comes up.</p> - -<p>Sleep is fitful when blaze is flirting with -blackness and sentries with death. Long before -light the trench guards on the front ridge are -waiting for the big guns to salute the morn. -The fire has slackened. There is fair quiet. -When one has heard the wild gabble of a thousand -guns he is <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">blasé</i> before the chatter of a -dozen. Down the Valley of the Shadow a shell<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> -sometimes wings a nasty way and the searchlights -hold vigil, but the infantry sleeps.</p> - -<p>Then a little light fades the immense shadows, -and soon over the rim of the world peers a new -day. Peace, beauty, tingling health—this for -another moment—when off to the right a shell -wheezes. The snap is touched. The army -wakes. Again it is on—the fearful din, the unendurable -bombardment. So it has been for two -months; so it will be until the end. Again and -again.</p> - -<p>But what is that under the crest of Namicoyama -where it rises, furze covered, its incandescent -struggle fighting fog? A patch of brown, -then a patch of blue, then a flag—yes, a flag—a -white flag, with a red sun in the center, the most -legible flag in the Volapük of bunting, the -Rising Sun of Japan!</p> - -<p>In the night they have done it because they -have slipped the thongs of civilization and risen -triumphant to the hold of <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'rice paddie'">rice paddy</ins> and sacred -mountain. What they did was simple—they -changed shoes; rather, they threw away shoes. -If one asks how the Japanese took “203” the -answer is in terms of feet.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span></p> - -<p>Such heights had been attacked before with -scant success. Boots, though the nails be -hobbed, help no man trained as the chamois to -nature’s aid. Yet boots were all they had. The -government in flirting with the ways of white -men recognized nothing but leather and thread -as proper footgear for Mikado worshipers. But -that was before “203.” Here, at last, the soldiers -knew more than the officials of state. They -knew enough to toss aside a weapon made for -pavement fighting when they went against precipice -and moss. Reduced to essentials, fighting -for life, they forgot the ambitious new ways. -Instead of boots they tied on their feet waraji, -the Japanese straw sandal. Having none of -proper make, they improvised from the rough -rice sacking brought by the commissary. Since -then the government has been compelled to -officially supply waraji.</p> - -<p>Barefooted, but for the tight cling of the straw, -hid from the searchlights by the shadows of -Namicoyama and “203,” in the night they had -climbed the heights and are now waiting the -introduction of Mr. Bombshell before they reel -audaciously across the parapet.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span></p> - -<p>The brown is khaki-covered men, the blue -those with overcoats. Far down at the lower -left is a gray-haired figure standing apart—the -colonel. He makes no effort to shield himself. -The artillery of two armies have concentrated -their fire above his head. That is their business, -no concern of his, so he hazily observes the unfurling -of day beyond the Tiger’s Tail as he -would dwell upon the empurpling of a convolvulus. -At Nanshan he led the victorious charge. -Three bullets went through his coat and two -through his hat. He wears Shinto emblems and -believes he was not born to be killed in battle. -He has been in forty-seven engagements without -a wound. His name is Tereda, and he commands -the first regiment of the first division; in rank -but a lieutenant-colonel, his colonel slain -May 26th.</p> - -<p>Shrapnel begins bursting above. The Russians -are far from sleep, farther from death. -It being high time for business, the white flag -with the red sun in the center waves once to the -left, once to the right, and twice to the front. It -is the artillery signal. Again the ridge falls -under the terrific fire of the day before. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> -this time the infantry is 150 yards nearer, and -this 150 yards is in a direction similar to that -pursued by a telephone lineman when he follows -his calling. The men crouch low, their own -shells bursting less than fifty yards above them.</p> - -<p>The introduction is long. The Russians are -saucy hosts. They parley and talk back with -their big guns, and that bluster of the day before -is repeated. All day long Tereda and his men -emulate the furze, for when they take the fort -they want night handy to help them intrench, to -give them a bit of cover despite the searchlights -and star bombs. Besides, one climb of that sort is -enough for twenty-four hours. They must have -the cumulation of another twenty-four for -the final charge. Yet it is costly recuperation. -Blood spurts frequently. Wounded wilt under -the sun, the dead lie untouched.</p> - -<p>At half-past four in the afternoon Tereda -orders the final charge. Three cheers go up—Banzai! -Banzai! Banzai! With bayonets fixed -the squads deploying as before, the khaki-covered -spots begin to move. In advance the men -crawl hand over hand, helped by blessed waraji. -Twenty feet from the parapet they pause and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> -fling something that leaps through the air like -balls from catcher to second base. These hand -grenades of gun-cotton explode on and in the -parapet, introduction more intimate. The brilliant -bursts play off the fast settling evening as -the khaki-covered ones go in, Tereda pausing -and peering with his glass. The entire battalion -tumbles over the parapet. Then the reserves -begin climbing from the base.</p> - -<p>Silence. All is over. What has happened? -Five, ten minutes pass, then the firing recommences, -but now the object is changed; all the -Japanese shrapnel is playing over the road -leading to the Chair fort and all the Russian -fire is directed against Namicoyama. The Russians -are retreating, throwing their rifles as they -run. Over Namicoyama floats the white flag -with the red sun in the center.</p> - -<p>Two hours later a fat old man with a heavy -beard and baggy trousers is brought in—a prisoner. -An officer, originally in the commissary, -he had been called into the line, business being -dull in his department. He commanded six -companies on Namicoyama. Wounded in the -arm and sullen, he has no greeting for us.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span></p> - -<p>“The pigs,” he cried; “I stood at the end of -the trench with my pistol ready to shoot every -bolter, but it was no use. The beasts! Ah, my -poor Russia.”</p> - -<p>He had a son in a Siberian regiment shot -four days previously before his eyes. For a -year he had had no word from his wife and two -younger children in the Trans-Baikal, but he -was well fed. Bearded, tanned, deep-eyed, he -loomed with dignity and might above his captors. -There was no consoling him.</p> - -<p>“The beasts,” he cried, “papa disowns them. -Why didn’t I use the pistol?”</p> - -<p>There was plenty of flour and small-arm ammunition -over there, he said. The troops were -in good morale, but needed bucking up by the -officers. What could be done for him?</p> - -<p>“Nothing,” he replied. “My boy is dead, my -wife, my children, where are they? And Russia, -ah, Russia, where is she!”</p> - -<p>To him Port Arthur had fallen.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span></p> - - <div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="Chapter_Seven" id="Chapter_Seven"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">Chapter Seven</a><br /> -<span class="fs70 lsp0">A SON OF THE SOIL</span></h2> - </div> - -<div><img class="drop-cap" src="images/044.jpg" width="75" alt="" /></div> - -<p class="drop-cap">Headquarters Third Imperial -Army, Before Port Arthur, Oct. 9th: -Often we dine with the Army’s leaders. -To-day all the temporary occupants -of the headquarters village, which include -the human impedimenta of an army, such as the -expert on international law, the official photographer -and the correspondents, were called to -the General’s house. My invitation read:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“Sir: I am desired by General Baron Nogi -to write to you, and tell you, with his compliments, -that he will be happy if you will favor -him with your company at tiffin on Sunday, the -9th inst., at one o’clock. He wishes to become -well acquainted with you by having chit-chats. -I have the honor to be, sir,</p> - -<p class="right"> -<span class="padr4">“Your Obedient Servant,</span><br /> -<span class="padr2">“<span class="smcap">Y. Yoshioka</span>, Major Aide-de-Camp:</span><br /> -“By Order.”</p> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span></p> - -<p>We went. There were some long tables peppered -with aluminum ware, fruit and wine under -the pear trees of a Manchurian back yard. We -stood up to the cold luncheon, partly foreign, -partly native, charmingly served by soldiers. -There was a crowd of dignitaries distinguished -by uniforms. They were of all ranks, from the -three stars and three stripes of the General of -the forces to the single star and stripe of the sub-lieutenant, -who is commissary adjutant. But it -was not an affair of dress, so out of the crowd -rose two personalities who burned themselves -into my consciousness, where they hang yet, resplendent -in energy. There was about them a -native dignity, a primal force, that indefinable -something that distinguishes great men.</p> - -<p>One wore a pair of yellow boots and might -have stepped from an American fashion plate. -There was American vitality and freshness in -him, too. He dispensed with ceremony, spoke -keenly, decisively, almost brusquely, and looked -you square in the eye with a twinkle that said he -appreciated all the social gayety and yet kept -back his own opinion. He had a square jaw, -thick neck, broad shoulders, massive palms and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> -a head long from chin to crown—all unusual for -a Japanese. This was Major Yamaoka, the -<i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">parliamentaire</i> who recently rode into Port -Arthur with the Emperor’s offer of safety to -noncombatants. He is one of General Nogi’s -most trusted aides, a popular orator, a man of -decision. He walks like a thoroughbred. Had -Cæsar seen Major Yamaoka walk across that -Manchurian garden he would surely have put -him on his staff.</p> - -<p>The other wore a pair of Pomeranian top -boots, elegant and serviceable as Yamaoka’s were -fresh and hardy. They were pulled snugly over -his knees to keep out the bitter Manchurian -wind. Above were a pair of white kersey -breeches, spectacular as Napoleon’s. He was -fond of rising on the toes of these boots and -writhing sinuously in them, like an acrobat testing, -as he responded to a toast or applauded the -music and fun. Everything about him indicated -the strong man of action—the tensity of -his muscles, the flex of his waist, the sure set of -his heels, the poise of his head, the ease and -power of his bearing, his well-knit mouth, his -regular, beautiful teeth, the clarity of his eyes,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> -the sincerity of his smile, even the straight, tough -fiber of his hair. In physique the opposite of -Yamaoka, for he is five feet nine in height, exceedingly -tall for a Japanese, slender, and with -delicate hands, the two yet have the same vivacity -and shrewdness, the same kindliness touched -with hauteur. But the second man is chief of -the army, not only in rank, for it was General -Nogi, but in worth as well. His mastery was -easily felt to-day. He stands at the pinnacle of -a wonderful career and the world’s eyes center -on him. How handsome he was—and how -simple and friendly, how easily pleased, how -innately courteous! Is he not also that ideal -philosopher whom the Roman Emperor Aurelius -wrote about as bethinking him always of -his enemy’s comfort? I asked him how he -would like to exchange places with General -Stoessel.</p> - -<p>“I think often of General Stoessel,” he replied. -“To be frank I think of him every day. -When I go to bed at night and when I get up in -the morning, and often between times I wonder -about him, how hard his position must be, and -how well he defends it, and if he is really injured<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> -as we have heard. Sometimes I put myself -in his place and imagine what I should do. -Then I try to think that some day I might -be in just his position. And so I fight the -battles all over again from his side and from -mine.”</p> - -<p>“Does it teach you much?”</p> - -<p>The General laughed heartily. “We have -learned much from the Russians. I am always -pointing them out to my soldiers as model fighters.” -He took from the ground a pick whose -handle had been splintered by a shell, evidently -found on the battlefield. Both nose and heel -had been worn half away, rounded with dullness -and rust. It was not like the Japanese picks, -which are small and short-handled.</p> - -<p>“I assembled all the battalion commanders a -few days ago,” he continued, “and showed them -this pick as an object lesson. It has turned over -many a hundred weight of earth and shows how -expert the Russians are at trench-making. Our -soldiers do not like to dig trenches. Many of -them are of gentle blood and think it is coolie -work. Besides, they say: ‘We are going forward -in the morning. Why dig trenches to-night?’<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> -The Russians have taught us tactics, -too.”</p> - -<p>Here Villiers interrupted. “Men who, like -the Russians, build trenches so they must show -themselves on the skyline to shoot can’t teach -tactics,” he said. The talk slid on to the bonzais, -mutual promises to dine together next in -Port Arthur, and au revoirs.</p> - -<p>But I started to write of the Manchurian. -He knows not, neither does he learn. Yet you -can scarcely ask who let down that shaggy jaw -and who sloped that head away, for he has a -magnificent, strong, clean jaw and his head is -handsome and high. That he bathes only once -a year and cares not who owns the land so long -as he tills it; and that his wife and daughter sit -on the stone fence of his donkey stable picking -the lice from one another’s heads, doubtless has -nothing to do with the question propounded by -our sociological poet.</p> - -<p>Nor is the Manchurian uncivilized. He has, -indeed, reached quite a state of development, for -he is the abject slave of fashion—at least his wife -and daughter are. They bandage their feet until -where a No. 8 boot should go they wear<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> -baby 6’s. This, I dare say, is a less harmful -fashion than that other silly one of corsets, for -surely the organs beneath a shoe lace are not so -vital as those under a waistband, but it looks -sillier. To see women in the harvest fields, by -the roadside washing clothing, cleaning the -donkey stable, baking bread, spanking boys, -suckling babies, attending husbands, all the time -balancing themselves as a <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">première danseuse</i> on -her toes, is to think of stake and rack! They -say that this is not real Manchuria, that up -North, where the other army is, the women do -not bind their feet. The present Dowager -Empress of China, considered by many the most -remarkable living woman, is a native of northern -Manchuria. In all this vast country the -women are noted for modesty and virtue. Ten -years ago, during the China-Japan War, many -committed suicide to escape expected ravishment. -But it was well learned then that the -Japanese never outrage a woman. An incident -of such atrocity by Japanese, in either war, has -yet to be recorded. It is said that the Russians -are different, though it is difficult to see how -any Westerner could look with more than curiosity<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> -on a Manchu woman. Certain it is that -they go about their lives here in complete freedom -and security. Not only do the Japanese -respect women; they respect property also. -Here is a fertile country with rich crops sustaining -a vast army, yet no farmer has lost a -bushel of grain, except when the chance of battle -has substituted shot for scythe.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/i163.jpg" width="500" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> - -ORPHANS<br /> - -Driven from home by shells which killed their father and mother, -these brothers tramped from camp to camp selling eggs.</div> -</div> - -<p>A son of the soil is the Manchurian, but not a -friend of nature, with whom he wars valiantly -for his daily bread. He fights terrible suns in -summer and ghastly winds in winter. When the -winds and snows drive out the flies that eat him -up, the lice come in until the sun and flies can -have another turn. So can you blame him for -being a money grabber? He thinks only of this -season’s maize crop and of next spring’s plowing. -Whether the Russians or the Japanese or the -Chinese rule the land is much the same to him. -He will put his tax into the Governor’s coffer -and go on with his toil. Why should he bother? -He remembers that Confucius was born on the -Liaotung and that Confucius taught to resist no -violence and remember the fathers. Consequently -he fills the country with tombstones and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> -babes while other men fill it with war and nameless -graves. Over in the valley is a granite -monolith erected in the memory of one who honored -his father and mother. A Russian shell -has struck it in the pit of the stomach and Japanese -bullets have shattered its back.</p> - -<p>Patriotism? No. But he has his religion -and it is this: to remember the fathers and owe -no man.</p> - -<p>Recently the master of our house went out -with us for a day to carry supplies. A stray -shell passed over us, perhaps twenty feet above. -We all ducked, but as soon as the coolie recovered -he ran. We called him, for we were without -other help. He kept running. We sent a -soldier. The coolie came back grudgingly. -Finally we gave him a yen. But he shook the -yen impudently in our faces, and fell back simulating -death, crying out: “Coolie dead, yen no -good.”</p> - -<p>He should be used to danger now. His -neighbors are. The shells and bullets are to -them what blowsnakes and mosquitoes are to -an American country district. To-day I saw -children playing among corn stubble while three<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> -shells burst within a hundred yards. The -children did not look up. For three months the -Russians were in the land; now for three months -the Japanese have been in the land. For three -months the Manchurian nonchalantly carried -Russian wounded into Port Arthur and buried -Russian dead by the roadside for fifty kopeks a -day. For three months he has nonchalantly -carried Japanese wounded into Dalny and buried -Japanese dead in the fields for fifty sen a -day. What concern is it of his which survivor -he gives up sen and kopek to afterwards?</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span></p> - - <div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="Chapter_Eight" id="Chapter_Eight"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">Chapter Eight</a><br /> -<span class="fs70 lsp0">THE BLOODY ANGLE</span></h2> - </div> - -<div><img class="drop-cap" src="images/168.jpg" width="75" alt="" /></div> - -<p class="drop-cap">General Nogi’s Headquarters Before -Port Arthur, Oct. 22d: To-day -we went to the Eternal Dragon, and -looked in on the bloody angle. -D’Adda was with me—the Marquis Lorenzo -D’Adda of Rome, naval expert, military engineer, -designer of the <i>Niishin</i> and <i>Kasuga</i>, which, -even now, on clear days, our spyglasses can discern -held in leash, ten miles off, by Togo.</p> - -<p>Yesterday, from the Phœnix, D’Adda looked -on the fortress—its two mountain ranges, its -stone wall, its chain of twenty forts, its concrete -glaces, its barbed wire morass, its artillery pregnant -with repose, its infantry hideous with secret -might—and said:</p> - -<p>“Eemposseebl! Eet ees eemposseebl—absolutelee. -Zee Japonaise can nevaire take. Eet -ees stronger zan Sevastopol—stronger zan Gibraltar—absolutelee.”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span></p> - -<p>To-day, from the foot of the Dragon, he -looked down into a plain lost to the husbandman -who bears on his arm no red cross, yet -furrowed far deeper with vast and terrible furrows, -its creased and aching joints curled into -the glaring sun. Up, he looked under the muzzles -of Russian cannon, useless now that the -plain they were wont to fill with dead is lost to -them.</p> - -<p>“Extraordinaire—colossal!” he cried. “Port -Art—eet will be one smoke puff zee nex attac.”</p> - -<p>We had left the siege parallels and were -climbing into the fort, our backs bent low so -that no Russian sharpshooter might give his government -cause to decorate the forgotten names -of two noncombatants. We had wormed our -way, zigzag, a mile and a half through the valley -along a trench that a division might foot -with equal safety, four abreast. Lives precious, -toil enormous, and brains cunning and quick had -hid their army from the enemy as prairie dogs -hide their spring litters. A clever attaché with -the Boers had shown how they who learned the -tricks from the Kafirs, hid vulnerable turnings -with maize stalks. Another, schooled with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> -D’Adda in the arts that Julius Cæsar taught -the legions in Gaul and which have not been -improved on to this day, had outlined the most -economic angles of advance, had shown how to -take advantage of every gully, how to hide behind -every terrace tuft, how to cross sodded -planks above at equal distances until the way -resembled the weave of an Indian basket. All -of this that we had passed was but a sixth of the -work of one division, of which the army holds -three. And it has been done in less than two -months.</p> - -<p>The Marquis continued to exclaim that since -the invention of gunpowder there has been no -such engineering. “I know zee historee well,” -he said, “veree well. I know Plevna, Sevastopol, -Dantzig, Paris, Vicksburg, Metz, Ladysmith. -Zay are no-thing. Port Art—eet ees -zee greatest. Zee world cannot comprehend.”</p> - -<p>Halfway back we had passed a Chinese village, -shattered by shells, blackened by smoke, its -tumbling walls utilized for the trench. Earthen -wine pots had been filled with shale and placed -on the sandbags to deceive the gunners beyond. -Two days before there was rain and in one part<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> -the trench was filled with muddy water. We -had to pick our way on submerged stones and -planks. As I hurried along, looking at my feet, -I noticed that the water grew dull red as though -the wine pots above had burst. At that moment -I stumbled and caught the wall for steadiness. -My hand struck something flabby. I drew it -back in horror and found sticking to the palm a -white piece of flesh dented with convolutions—a -bit of human brain. A pace away he lay, his -feet toward me. A stray shell had blown him -off from brain base to nose bridge. He was -still warm and the officer called back shrilly for -a soldier to come with pick and shovel. Then -we took notice of the shells bursting, some five -miles off, some a thousand yards away. This -had happened within the hour.</p> - -<p>As we came closer to the Dragon a stretcher -was borne down by two red cross men. A bullet -had picked a private through a peephole. Just -ahead of us two soldiers were walking, one with -his full kit, rifle and shovel on his back, the other -bareheaded and barebacked. Both wore on -their sleeves the two yellow stripes of the distinguished -soldier. The finger of the one who<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> -was to go was held by the hand of the one -who was to stay. Neither spoke. They walked -silently and slowly in the full sunlight. He of -the full kit was ordered into the thirty-minute -trench to take the place of the one who had -passed out on the stretcher. He, too, is almost -sure to pass, ere long, the same way. As the -two comrades walked toward the place of death -I saw how true Dickens is, for it was precisely -thus—finger in palm—that he sent Sydney Carton -and the seamstress to <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">la guillotine</i> in “The -Tale of Two Cities”; the one who was to go -clasping the finger of the one who was to stay, -the one who was to stay looking with kind, brave -strength calmly into the face of the one who was -to go.</p> - -<p>“Ah! Tragique!” cried D’Adda.</p> - -<p>The officer said we might one at a time go into -the front trench. I started. It was a short -climb over shale and debris of sundered shells -and of a sudden I hobbled into a hollow space, -girt with bags and silent, silent as is the place -of execution the morning of capital punishment. -It was the redoubt, thrust into the air like the -maw of a dragon. The sun beat in beautiful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[157]</a></span> -and sure. The rocks, with deadly glare, spat -up their challenge. An occasional bullet sang -as a ripsaw tears through a pine knot. Then -a machine gun rattled and the shale beyond pattered. -I was carried back to a boiler factory -and an automatic riveter. Of all war sounds -that of the machine gun is least poetic, is the -most deadly; it has the ring of business.</p> - -<p>Silence, blankness, death. At first I could see -no life, but the officer spoke a low word—here -all words are whispers as they are beside the -couches of those about to leave this world—and -four spots on the wall that had seemed monotonous -and brown as the shale moved. Four -simple, peasant faces with the star of Nippon -above looked at me. Then one, attracted by -something beyond, suddenly kneeled, seized the -rifle beside him, leveled it through a chink and -pulled the trigger. That deadly rip sawed its -knot.</p> - -<p>Boldened by the presence of soldiers kneeling -as I was, I began to look around. A groan, -first aspirate, then low, as of an asthmatic -man snoring, brought my eyes across the bag-protected -dragon’s mouth and I saw two figures<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> -kneeling above a third. Presently the two lifted -the third into a stretcher and filed past me with -it. I saw a face blood-dabbed, the lips piteously -moving. A bandage across the eyes saved -me the worst. The officer beckoned for me to -peek through the farther hole. The incident -was but a bit of the day’s work for him. I followed -and saw a shattered field glass under the -parapet. It told the story. He was—had been—a -non-commissioned officer in charge of the -sentry squad and was looking across at the Russians -when a sharpshooter spotted the glass. I -felt that I was hurt more than he, for I lay awake -thinking of it much of that night, only to remember -that the surgeon-general had told me that a -man shot through the brain is instantly unconscious, -though his lips move and he moans for -minutes.</p> - -<p>“Each day—how many?” I asked the officer.</p> - -<p>“Twenty.”</p> - -<p>“And how many days?”</p> - -<p>“Fifty-nine.”</p> - -<p>“How many to take the fort?”</p> - -<p>“Four thousand six hundred and fifty-three.”</p> - -<p>“With each night a battle to resist a sortie?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Yes. Each night a sortie, each night a -battle.”</p> - -<p>“Thus—by night—how many to hold this -awful place?”</p> - -<p>“Since the beginning? Perhaps a regiment, -perhaps a few more.”</p> - -<p>He motioned me to the corner hole—the hole -through which a minute before the bullet had -sped into the officer’s eye. I emulated neither -bullet nor officer, but at a respectful two feet -glimpsed a ridge ghastly and glimmering in the -sun like any other ridge in this hell hole. Quite -near enough to reach in a short dash—200 yards, -the officer said—a row of sandbags were backed -business-like toward me. Between us were five -heaps of blue clothes, four in a huddle and one -a bit off—Russian dead killed in the battle of -Hatchimakiyama four days ago in the zone -where nothing lives. Grass withers there. -Vermin alone germinate.</p> - -<p>Behind those sandbags and behind these men -crouch and have crouched every minute for two -months hunting game the most lordly and the -most cunning, the most deceitful and the most -contemptible, the boldest and the fiercest, the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> -most inspired and the most depraved this earth -can boast.</p> - -<p>The Russians on three sides held us in a vise. -The bottom of the crater was paved with empty -cartridge shells and bullets flattened on the -rocks. Constantly more knots were being -ripped by the saw above. Except for that rasp—a -rasp that bore in with crescendic violence on -the nerves—the silence was profound. Life was -everywhere—intelligence at the keenest pitch, -ingenuity the most diabolical, agility the most -intense, sacrifice heroic, daring, sublime—but not -a sound, not a motion. Everywhere the silence -kept—the unendurable silence of the Eternal -Dragon. Its insatiable maw thrust up there in -the ghastly sunlight, drenched in blood, yet cried -for more.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/i177.jpg" width="650" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> - -HUMAN BARNACLES<br /> - -Clinging to the bases of the forts, like barnacles to a ship, these sturdy Japanese existed in miserable -quarters throughout the summer, fall and half the winter.</div> -</div> - -<p>Sick with the thought that through this -bloody angle, bought at so dear a cost, held at so -terrible a price, there must yet be fought the -supreme fight that will eventually <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'reduce the catidel'">reduce the -citadel</ins> I turned to go. At the top of the downward -trench I paused, kneeling, where three soldiers -stood with rifles waiting to relieve the sentry -on duty. Down through the plain swept<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> -the ten-mile front of the two armies—the might -of Russia and the might of Japan, locked in a -struggle so desperate there was no sound but the -asthmatic wheeze of the ripsaw buzzing above. -It was very close to the other world—yet the resources -of two empires centered there, the heartthrobs -of great people, raging like the wind in -from two seas, swept it all into a typhoon of gore -and grief.</p> - -<p>I felt my hand clasped by a palm moist and -gentle with feeling, friendly with comradeship. -The eyes I looked into were not those of a beast -of prey. They were quite pleasant eyes, even -lovable. The face was touched with soil. I -could see it came from the rice paddies, yet it -had sympathy, and pity, and much capacity for -happiness. Was there not also capacity for suffering? -The low word came and he went off, -food for powder. Will he be one of the twenty? -The sun was quite as devilish as ever in the Dragon’s -maw as he stepped into it. As I scrambled -into safety I saw him propped against the wall, -his rifle against a chink, his cheek to the breech, -“sniping.” It was a salute and an appeal that -he pressed into my hand, a reproach and a challenge.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> -I was a white man, he a yellow, and he -was killing white. What difference was there -between us? Could I not also have found friends -two hundred yards farther on? Still the ripsaw -buzzed the knots. Again the machine gun -rattled, without poetry, business-like and deadly.</p> - -<p>“Tragique!” whispered D’Adda, as he came -back from the same journey and sat beside me. -“Zis ees zee focal point—most eentense, most -sublime. Perhaps here Port Art will be taken—and -by surprise. I know zee historee. I -study Plevna, Sevastopol, Metz, Gibraltar, -Vicksburg, Ladysmith. Always by surprise. -Zee physical is but zee one aspect of zee situation. -Zere are zee three aspect—zee physical, -zee mental and zee moral. Zee moral aspect -will be—what you call it? zee final decidence. -When what you call zee psychologique mo-ment -come—in zee wind, zee rain, zee storm, -zee quick rush—zen zee high spirit go low—phwaat! -like zat—zen Port Art fall. By a surprise. -One sergeant he take Dalny, one private -soldier he will take Port Art.”</p> - -<p>We loiter along the parallel on our way back. -The ripsaw strikes a knot above our heads and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> -we shy to windward. D’Adda reminds me that -once when Skoboleff, greatest of all Russian -soldiers, thus ducked in giving way to a purely -physical reflex action, he immediately leaped -to the parapet, and walked along in full view -of the enemy, until two members of his staff -dragged him down as he sputtered out his disgust -with himself.</p> - -<p>We stop, winded. Again the ripsaw. Again -the shrink. Then, content with what breath we -have, fearful we may have no more, we hurry -on, our knees sprung, our heads drawn in, like -turtles slinking through the mud. We have no -troops to encourage, no reputations to sustain. -We are not Skoboleffs.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span></p> - - <div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="Chapter_Nine" id="Chapter_Nine"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">Chapter Nine</a><br /> -<span class="fs70 lsp0">A BATTLE IN A STORM</span></h2> - </div> - -<div><img class="drop-cap" src="images/044.jpg" width="75" alt="" /></div> - -<p class="drop-cap">Ho-o-zan (the Phœnix Mountain), -Manchuria, August 28th:—Ninety-six -hours of almost incessant fighting—from -sun to moon, from moon to -searchlight and from searchlight to dawn—is -more than human endurance, backed though it -be by Japanese pluck, can stand, and there was -nothing to do last night but rest. Only an occasional -sentry pop or the roll off to the right of a -wheezy cannon whose shot traveled on wheels -in need of grease, told us that the sublime panorama -of mountains and valleys lying before us -hid a hundred thousand armed and warring -men.</p> - -<p>Until last night the weather has been all sun -and moonlight, with dawns and sunsets tinted -persimmon russet, and the valleys bright twenty -hours out of the twenty-four; fighting conditions -ideal for the defense, whose searchlights and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> -star bombs made the other four hours bright and -left surprise as difficult as to a poker student -playing with his back to a mirror. But mirror -or no mirror the Japanese attacked. Night was -day to them and daytime hell, as they hurled -themselves against that iron chain of forts, only -to break as the waves of the sea climb up to shatter -upon the rocks. The rocks disintegrate. -Yes. Yet hard on the waves—and slow.</p> - -<p>Losses? Officially it was admitted that more -than twenty-five thousand were done for. Not -since Grant hurled his inefficient brigades on -Cold Harbor has there been such a slaughter -against a fortress. In the Ninth division, which -lay in our immediate front and which formed -the center of the army, two regiments were entirely -decimated and a battalion and a company -of artillery put out of action, to a man. For a -week the roads at the bases of our mountain -dribbled stretchers loaded with masses of flesh, -clothes and blood. The soldiers’ “bandaging -places” overflowed, and the living were so busy -helping others to live, and still others to die, -there was no time to bury the dead.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span></p> - -<p>And all for nothing. Not a single permanent -fort had been taken, not a prisoner, not a -gun from the enemy was in our hands. The -opposing mountains, responsive with explosives -to the touch, where no art of the engineer was -lost, held before us as always, grim, monstrous, -calm in mighty strength. On their under-features, -between the opposing outposts, lay -thousands whom no first aid dared reach, and -other thousands whom no burial squad came -near. The men of words argued long that -week. They could not agree whether it was a -reverse or a repulse. The anti-Japanese contended -that as we had not gained one point the -action was a “reverse.” The lenient were certain -that as we had not been driven back no one -vain of military technique could call it more -than a “repulse.” The fifty thousand interested -parents in Japan knew not if it was victory or defeat; -presently they are to find that it is death. -“Reverse” or “repulse” the commander cared -not: he had disobeyed an Imperial order, for -the instructions were to enter Port Arthur on -the 21st of August. And the caterers of the -treaty ports, what cared they of “reverse” or -“repulse”? The banquets had been ordered,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> -the five-dollar tickets sold, the day fireworks -stored for the fall of the eastern Gibraltar on -this pre-ordained day. And now the eggs were -no longer strictly fresh, the vegetables were stale, -the meats off-color, while the back of Port -Arthur was still game and careless in all that -brilliant weather.</p> - -<p>With us, to meet an officer was to see a face -drawn and grave. Useless to utter sympathy, -superfluous to express confidence. They had -underestimated a great foe, miscalculated his -strength, and were paying the price—a fearful -one—with the “two o’clock in the morning” -courage of desperately determined men. They -did not waver or complain, but it was terrible to -see them, calm, patient, silent, suffering, still -resolute to go on, meeting each salutation with -a hollow smile, ghastly with ache.</p> - -<p>“What fine weather,” we say, wanting better -speech.</p> - -<p>“For him—yes. Bad for us.” “Him” is -the enemy, on whom the sun shone gayly and for -whom the new moon was a few hours off.</p> - -<p>Clouds came with last evening. Slowly the -houses on the edge of the old town disappeared<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> -against the murky hills. Then the new town -went. The huge cranes that marked the western -harbor, where lay the hunted warships, evaporated, -the docks faded away, the stone quarry -was lost. At length the tall factory chimney on -the outskirts, which for days had been our chief -landmark, went out in the haze. That was the -last we saw of the complete Port Arthur, whose -beleaguered, respected front had mocked us for -eight desperate days.</p> - -<p>The moon had a hard time. She came up -with a huge cigar in her face—shocking in a -lady moon!—which choked her till she spewed -and sputtered and went out. She was a new -moon and died gamely, filling the air with impudence -and bravado, so it was some time after -midnight before the rain pattered her off about -her business with that silly cigar behind the -clouds, and filled the valley with mist. Thus, -the rain was our friend and we welcomed it, -casting happy and fragrant remarks into the rising -storm, singing the mountain to sleep with -our lullaby of content, for we knew that “his” -searchlights could do little, perhaps nothing, -against our soldier boys, already sore and tired,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> -but valiant down there in the huge night. -Foiled in the light, we looked for them to do -something in the dark.</p> - -<p>But even before that we knew the night was -big with promise, for eight officers climbed up -at dusk to stay the night with us. We lay at -length under rubber blankets and rough oiled -paper used in Japan for cart covers, with our -noses stuck between the rocks, scenting for excitement -as deer are fire-stalked in the great -woods.</p> - -<p>This mountain, the Phœnix, is directly in the -rear center of Nogi’s army and about a mile -from his advance posts. Thus, with little danger, -we command as grand a battlefield as the -world has yet produced. From here we have -seen, at the same time, exasperating as a three-ring -circus, two infantry assaults, three artillery -duels, and a naval engagement. The human -impetus we knew not until last night. Until -then we knew only the sound and color of battle, -and its wild glory. So we fell asleep, the rain -pattering.</p> - -<p>Past midnight and only stray sentry shots -have carried out that promise of something big.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> -With difficulty we keep awake, yet the officers -behind lie expectant and the night is young. -The fresh rain dapples delicious coolness and -filters mosquitoes—tiger mosquitoes—more terrible -than war. I hear deep breathing—then -quiet—and dreamland.</p> - -<p>Rain pelting in my face wakes me to greet a -flash of lightning. I tuck in the rubber blanket, -reach for my watch and by the next flash see the -hands at seven minutes past three. I snuggle -myself into a ball and crunch the rocks closer. -Another flash behind and I spasmodically close -my eyes, but open them in time to see the mountain -side and road below livid. Two horses -are lying in the road, killed, I suppose, by the -flash. But, no, I remember that a shell laid -them out yesterday. Ricalton cries:</p> - -<p>“They’ve begun.”</p> - -<p>“No,” I yell, “it’s the storm,” and my voice -is lost in the thunder.</p> - -<p>Is it thunder? Is it cannon? Who can tell? -The vivid flashes, too great for artillery, lighting -up the whole mountain, come in now on all -sides and as fast as the lanyards of a battery could -be pulled.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span></p> - -<p>The horrid grandeur rises. Prayerfully -thankful to be in it I desperately resolve not to -run. How the molten sheets drag me from -that hole in the rocks! Surely every glass in -Port Arthur is leveled here! The next instant -the Russian fire will concentrate on the Phœnix. -Yes. There it is—a flash from Golden Mount, -like a dynamic spark from one electrode to -another, pointed this way, lost in the ink of -night.</p> - -<p>A double fear—the fear of shame and the fear -of death—consumes me. I shiver. But I grow -brave, for I am not alone. Ricalton leaps to -his feet, wrapped in the trailing cart cover.</p> - -<p>“Sublime!” he cries, waves his arms aloft, -laughs at the storm.</p> - -<p>More flashes from the Russian hills, the Japanese -answer. The vast night is hideously alive. -Artillery flicks as fireflies spark, spits tongues of -flame, answering thunder with thunder, lightning -with lightning. The rain beats down a -torrent.</p> - -<p>In the intermittent flashes the ugly eye of the -searchlight looks in, licks phosphorus about us -and ambles off into the valleys, as a cow might<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> -run the fur of her tongue over a cocklebur and -calmly go to grass. No taste for rocks over -there. They are out for softer game. Six more -fling their deviltry from the head of Cyclops and -down in the valley struggle with mist and rain.</p> - -<p>Then, ’mid the sky’s and cannon’s belch, as a -fairy into the land of demons, a thin red line is -tossed gracefully over the valley from the Russian -side. It reaches high over the mountains -from the sea forts and above the center of the -great plain falls, as a sailor casts a halyard over -the yardarm on to the deck beyond. In mid-air -bursts the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">feu de joie</i>, the delight of fireworks, -in war a spy. On other nights this deathly star -bomb revealed all secret movements, but now -the Japanese have allies in the mist and rain. -Neither searchlight nor star bomb can penetrate -the storm veil.</p> - -<p>Now comes the crackle of infantry, followed -by the pop, pop, pop, of quick-firers, the clatter -of Hotchkiss howitzers, the more sprightly click -of Maxims. Another assault—and they have -had eleven in a week! Will they win this time? -They are going for the Cock’s Comb, whose -crest stands out ominously against the sky.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span></p> - -<p>Boom! Bo-o-o-m! Far out of the distance -a deep voice.</p> - -<p>“The navy. That’s a twelve-inch gun. -Togo’s with us to-night!” Ricalton ought to -know, but who can tell? Is it a Japanese siege -mortar, a Russian coast defender, field artillery, -star bomb, machine gun, howitzer, or that grand -bombardment from the heavens? They are all -in action to-night. Is it defeat or victory? Can -they take the fort?</p> - -<p>I can answer none of these questions. I only -know that “a child could understand the De’il -had business on his hand.”</p> - -<p>As the crashes increase, the wind rising, the -furor mounting, I throw the cart cover aside -wrap the blanket more closely about me and run -down the mountain. Ricalton calls, but I hear -him not. The reality of this din must be -known. Over my shoulder as I run the -Phœnix looms up monstrous, haughty, wise and -terrible, silhouetted as she was born, anon in -fire.</p> - -<p>At the foot a regiment is drawn along the -road, the men squatting on their heels, ponchos -over heads, their rifle barrels, brass-capped,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> -peeping from the corners. I make for the -valley.</p> - -<p>Seeking a trench where I have been before, -between the lines of fire, I hurry for the village -of Shuishiying, the location two days before of -our outposts. No living thing is to be seen, but -overhead the big bullets crash from behind and -lumber in from the front. Down here between -the two lines of batteries the way grows long, -the village distant, the desire to return manifold. -The artillery of two armies centers on me; not a -pleasant sensation! Not on me, of course, but -I am not a Christian Scientist—nor yet a veteran! -It gets on my nerves. I turn back. Then -through the dark I feel a file of soldiers near -and go on.</p> - -<p>Starting at every sound, in the purest darkness, -not knowing whether we or the enemy occupy -the village, and yet so far by this time I -cannot return, I enter the village. A dull -light around the first corner shows me the headquarters -of the infantry line officers commanding -the reserves—a place I had been two days -before. I go up. Only a sergeant is there -answering the telephone.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span></p> - -<p>“My friends? Where?”</p> - -<p>He waves an arm toward the front. I tumble -out of the village and there are the advanced -reserves drawn up, squatting on heels, poncho-covered, -rifles uncapped. A movement is beginning. -I fall in with the young lieutenant I -know. The regiment quickly breaks into charging -formation—squads of twelve, and deploys -single file into the mealie fields to the left. I -am discovered, ordered to the rear. I protest. -The sentry orders arms, bayonets fixed. I go—back. -The regiment goes—ahead.</p> - -<p>But why be foiled? Why come halfway -round the globe to be turned back at the summit? -There is another way—to the right. I -hurry along it as day begins to break. The -mists are heavy, the rain drizzling, the first light -struggling. I find the conical hill in the center -of the plain, quite detached from the fortress -proper, taken by our troops the day before and -called the Kuropatkin battery. I struggle -through battered abattis and entanglement for -the elevation. The foss is filled with water—the -only moat before Port Arthur that has the -traditional morass. The place is deserted and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> -if I can reach the front trench the whole action -will lie before me like a chessboard. Across the -parapet lies a line sergeant, his head gone. -There has been no time for the dead. The trail -is thick with khaki bodies. Picking my way -slowly forward, halting at each yard to be sure -that I am not in range of the musketry whose -wild rattle is now filling the air, I at length find -myself near a bombproof partially splintered by -shells. The plain now luminous, I pause for -rest and safety, the din not lessening.</p> - -<p>But no sooner do I look around than I scramble -quickly on—into danger. Two figures are -rigid there in the half-light of the bombproof, -one in khaki uniform, one in blue blouse and -marengo pants. The one in khaki has his teeth in -the throat of the other, whose eyes, popped like -peas from the pod, peer over, rakishly curious, at -his limp hand dropped over the khaki back and -holding a pistol. The khaki hip is drenched -with blood, partially dried. The sun is come -and gone and is now here again since that happened. -The faces are ghastly with bloat. I -leave the half-light of the shelter and go out -where bullets are.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span></p> - -<p>The star bombs cease, the searchlights die -away, the artillery flags, the infantry grows -noisier. Then I see the reserves falling back, -the squads of twelve escaping from one terrace -to another, in good formation, continually firing, -but still falling back. This Kuropatkin battery -may see other dramas like the bombproof duel. -I hasten down. In the village I find the lieutenant -busy with trenches, improvising the defense. -He throws all his English at me as I -come up:</p> - -<p>“The Russians—they come—I fix them. -They are very wild. Our men are very wild. -Ah, it is a wild war.” The telephone rings. -He runs to speak with the general. Then the -sergeant informs me.</p> - -<p>They had attempted an assault in the rain and -dark. Beginning with shrapnel they had tried -to find the searchlights. Charges burst above -two of them nearest the Cock’s Comb, and they -expired, as if hit. The guileless infantry then -went in, supposing the way clear. Halfway -up the glacis every searchlight, including the -two apparently hit, converged on them, throwing -them out, in spite of the rain, clearly against<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> -the red earth. More. They carried nippers -able to cut wire theretofore found before Russian -positions, but here the wire was as thick as -the little finger, not cutable with their weapons. -Thus, instead of a lump of dough to be bowled -over the first dark night the advance regiment -had found, even in the rain, that the Cock’s -Comb stood out intact as a racing yacht stripped -for her tryout.</p> - -<p>Yet another Russian dodge, for a battlefield -is as full of intrigue as a ballroom, completed -the disaster. Under our fire of the afternoon -which preceded the rivalry with the storm -Stoessel had his batteries reply, but when we -opened up with the storm he ordered his guns -to cease, one by one, battery by battery. Soon -our forces thought that like the searchlights the -artillery was done for. So when the advance, -after creeping through the nipper-defying -barbed wire, expecting their job done, was about -to leap with a “Banzai” over the parapet, they -were met by light and fire. Turning to look for -their comrades of the second regiment they -found these deep in the dunga, attempting, not -to come on, but to cut their way back, for a battery<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> -of pompoms and a regiment of sharpshooters -had sortied, almost segregating them -from the command. The whole brigade was -threatened with annihilation and at this moment -the reserves I had joined were ordered to the -relief.</p> - -<p>The regiment under fire of the machine guns -retreated precipitately, leaving one-half its -number on the slope. Turmoil again through -the barbed wire and plump into the rear of -the second regiment, also retreating, not into its -own lines, but into the Maxims and Nordenfeldts. -Overwhelmed on all sides, tricked, defeated, -two-thirds of the men killed or wounded, -grimy with sweat and powder and almost fainting -in the muggy August, the decimated brigade, -its regiments back to back, fought as Custer -fought on the Little Big Horn, with a coolness -that comes to men in the supreme hour.</p> - -<p>Most of them died as Custer died, for out of -that brigade of 6,000 men there are to-day uninjured -but 640. These were saved by the reserves -from Shuishiying, my lieutenant and his comrades, -who, as dawn came in, hammered the Russian -rear and drove the Siberians, sullen with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> -the joy of successful trickery, up into their -trenches.</p> - -<p>Wandering back toward Ho-o-zan, the forenoon -well on, the rain almost finished, I wondered -was it “reverse” or “repulse”? Coming -to a place where the rear guard had been at -my descent of the mountain before dawn I -looked for them in vain. Instead of the greeting -I expected from the side of the road the dust -about me, here and there, was flicked up, as if -stones were thrown at me.</p> - -<p>“Is this a bit of soldier fun?” The pelting -kept up. One of the stones struck a few inches -from my toe, when I heard the well-known voice -of Ricalton yelling from behind a shoulder of -rock:</p> - -<p>“Here—out of that, you young ass!”</p> - -<p>Then I saw him frantically waving, from behind -his shelter. But why should he look for -shelter there? The artillery fire was down. -All I could hear was a counter-attack of infantry -a mile and a half in my rear. But as soon as I -got near him he ran out and dragged me into -the ditch at his side.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/i199.jpg" width="525" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> - -AMMUNITION FOR THE FRONT</div> -</div> - -<p>“Where are the soldiers?” I asked. Then I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> -saw his fun. “You were tossing things at me,” -I cried.</p> - -<p>“Those! Spent bullets! You ——!”</p> - -<p>At this moment an orderly galloping along -fell from his horse several hundred yards up the -road, and crawled into the ditch ahead of us. -We wormed up to him and found a slug had -traveled from shoulder to trunk under his ribs -and into his thigh.</p> - -<p>They were fighting down the reverse slope of -the Eternal Dragon, an outwork of the Cock’s -Comb, and the Russian bullets, aimed at the foe -above, cut a parabola in the air, and came down -with their initial velocity two miles off across -the plain—where we stood. The Russians on -the reverse, the Rising Sun must be above the -Eternal Dragon.</p> - -<p>It is now noon. We are back on Ho-o-zan, -looking out to sea. Twelve warships are on the -horizon. From one, the nearest in, comes an -occasional puff of white smoke, then a low, long -bo-o-om! A shell drops into the town. The -eye follows.</p> - -<p>Now we see how the brigade is avenged. The -houses of the old town are charred and broken.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> -The new town is gutted and smoldering. A -shell has carried away the factory chimney. -One leg of the crane is demolished and the other -sags. The rain has put out the flames and a -dirty brown smoke fills the gap from Golden -Mount to Tiger’s Tail.</p> - -<p>Between sun and sun the navy, brother of the -army, has laid a heavy paw upon the place. Its -claws away, the deep scratches show where Port -Arthur bleeds.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span></p> - - <div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="Chapter_Ten" id="Chapter_Ten"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">Chapter Ten</a><br /> -<span class="fs70 lsp0">THE CREMATION OF A GENERAL</span></h2> - </div> - -<div><img class="drop-cap" src="images/118.jpg" width="75" alt="" /></div> - -<p class="drop-cap">Before Port Arthur, Sept. 27th.—Major-General -Yamamoto was shot -and instantly killed two days ago. The -brigade he commanded—one leading -the right wing of the Army—had captured the -outworks of “203.” This mountain had been long -in dispute and was dominated by certain Russian -forts, which made it, while Japanese territory, -yet untenable by our forces. Yamamoto’s brigade, -however, clung under the reverse ridges -and occupied trenches at the top, keeping the -foothold secure until artillery could be advanced -to reduce the opposing positions. In this -critical situation the General thought it best to -be on the ground in person and advanced his -headquarters to the base of the mountain, which -exists on the map only under the figure “176,” -denoting its height in meters, but which his soldiers<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> -had cherished “Namicoyama,” because of -its resemblance to the trepang or namico, a long -angular fish abundant in eastern waters.</p> - -<p>The night of the move Yamamoto climbed the -mountain and crept into the trenches for a look -at the contested heights opposite. He came before -he was expected and his engineers had -not had time to prepare a bombproof shelter -through whose chinks he could look in safety. -He would not wait, but put his glasses through -a rift in the trenches and settled into a comfortable -seat to study the situation. There was no -regular firing, but only the desultory popping -that is heard night and day along the whole ten-mile -front, where sharp-eyed pickets are keen -and cautious. The General became bold, raised -his head—whit—a bullet through his brain.</p> - -<p>Neither officers nor men can be said to be -reckless, or even incautious. The army is devoid -of that extravagance expected of war, when -each man’s courage seems in question and cowardice -impels bravado. Evidently, there is not -a coward in the army, for the bravery of each -soldier and of each officer seems taken for -granted. All make of war a serious business,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> -in which lives are units to be kept for the Emperor -and skillfully used, as a go-player advances -his pawns, saving all he can for final victory. -The labor done in a week to build cover would -gather all the harvests of Manchuria, which -just now are mellow ripe and gloriously beautiful -in the keen sunlight. Whole mountains are -tunneled, in some places through solid rock; in -others through slanting shale, to afford covered -ways. At each divisional headquarters, of which -the army has three, the lookout has two bombproofs -dug in the solid rock on commanding -heights, buttressed by three layers of sand bags, -covered with two feet of earth, all supported by -poplar poles, with the loophole for lookout cunningly -slanted so the sun will not show behind -and indicate to the enemy—perhaps only 500 -yards away—the precious eyes behind. These -bombproofs sometimes are made quite comfortable -with rugs and improvised stools, but mostly -knees suffer and the wretched correspondent -traveling from post to post comes to complain -not of “writer’s cramp,” but of “general’s -stoop.” A month ago on the left wing of the -army two staff officers were killed in a bombproof<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> -by a bursting shell. The army was scared, -for a staff officer is valuable freight. Since then -care has been redoubled; sand bags have been -laid a layer deeper on all lookouts, ramparts -have been heightened, and now venerable, -curious heads sink lower as they turn up for a -view.</p> - -<p>The death of the General, Yamamoto, was another -warning. It was also a severe blow. He -was one of the most competent men in the army, -commanded a star brigade and was slated for -early advancement. Last night his memory received -a most distinguished honor: the corpse -was cremated on the battlefield where he lost -his life.</p> - -<p>To appreciate how great the honor was it -will be necessary to explain two conditions: -First, wood on the peninsula here is worth its -weight in cash. The country is not wooded to -begin with, which is the cause of another difficulty -the army has to face—scarcity of water. -About the villages there are usually a few poplars, -but the mountains have nothing but Scotch -heather and the plains only Ventura County -bean pods and San Joaquin wheat fields. Then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> -two great armies have boiled water and savagely -wrangled here for three months, until all the -rotten timber of old Manchurian dwellings has -gone for firewood. As a consequence a frequent -sight is a transport cart with some stubs of -spruce tied to the whiffletree, being carried -from Dalny, twenty-two miles away. Dried -maize stalks are the universal fuel. Cracker -boxes sell for a dollar apiece and the other day -I found my servant brushing the pencil whittlings -from the floor to use for kindling. Second, -it was the samurai’s belief that a warrior -who sacrificed his life in combat should be honored -by cremation on the spot of his vicarious -atonement. And the difference between the -army of to-day and a samurai clan of a generation -ago is far less than the difference between -cuirass and bombproof; you can’t wipe out the -clinging beliefs of generations in forty years—not -in the Orient. It may take hyposcopes and -searchlights, wireless telegraphy and machine -guns to win victories, but only funeral pyres -and Shinto sacrifices will pay for them.</p> - -<p>Wood-impoverished, the army cannot honor -its humble dead; <em>i. e.</em>, not immediately; wait<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> -till Port Arthur falls—but of that later. It is -different with generals. As a daimyo in feudal -times received the forehair of all his clan as a -final offering, so to-day a general gone gets the -camp fires of his soldiers. Last night the brigade -which had lost its intrepid head ate its rice -dinner cold and went without hot water for its -tea. All the mess fires were contributed to make -a pyre worthy the deceased.</p> - -<p>Just as the sun went down, at the bottom of -Namicoyama, whose heights war had swept but -a day before, in sight and sound of the grim -proofs of his last victory—emplaced batteries and -occupied field hospitals—the body of the major-general -was given to the flames, while his men in -the trenches above sternly held the Russians at -bay. Occasional cannon rent the air, infantry -popping cracked in the stillness, myriad tent -lights twinkled up into the moonlight; the blaze -shot up, waned, crackled and died down. The -midnight shift of sentries presented silent arms. -A donkey brayed out of the valley. Miles to the -left a howitzer boomed. The ocean lay black -like ink beyond a fringe of shore gray under the -moon. A line of coolies passed with bamboo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> -stretchers carrying piteously mangled forms—the -day’s harvest to which the coolies had been -called from their maize and their millet. -Embers gleamed from the brigade’s mess fire. -Two orderlies stepped up with a wooden box, -kicked the embers away, and placed in it some -ashes.</p> - -<p>A week hence a family in Tokyo—a quiet, -dry-eyed Japanese lady with two half-grown -boys—will receive the wooden box. It will be -borne a few days later through the streets of the -capital on a gun carriage to Aoyama Cemetery. -There, after two white-robed priests have said -a few words over it, a long shelf in a narrow -vault will receive the wooden box. The widow -will have notification by special messenger that -his August Highness, the Emperor, sees fit to -remember the illustrious deeds of the departed -by conferring upon him—who is not dead, but -who has passed on to wait—the order of the Rising -Sun, and, in the absence of the husband the -wife will be permitted to receive the pension -attached thereto. Japanese history will record -that Major-General Yamamoto, after a valiant -career in the service of his Emperor, gave up his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> -life at the Battle of Namicoyama, in Manchuria, -Sept. 24th, 1904.</p> - -<p>Last night the brigade bivouacked in joyous -envy. Had not its general received what every -soldier longs for—death before the enemy; had -he not also received the soldier’s apotheosis—cremation -on the scene of his exaltation? This -is as near religion as these people get. But the -staff and the new major-general, educated in -Europe and living in the twentieth century, -when they climb Namicoyama to spy upon Port -Arthur will wait until the engineers have safe-marked -the heights with bombproofs.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span></p> - - <div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="Chapter_Eleven" id="Chapter_Eleven"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">Chapter Eleven</a><br /> -<span class="fs70 lsp0">THE GENERAL’S PET</span></h2> - </div> - -<div><img class="drop-cap" src="images/044.jpg" width="75" alt="" /></div> - -<p class="drop-cap">He was small, like all his race, and he -looked as harmless as a musician. In -fact, his eyes had the dreaminess of a -musician’s, and the clasp of his hand -was like that of a woman. He touched me -on the arm one day as I came out of the staff -tent at General Nogi’s headquarters, and asked -me in fairly good English if I knew San Francisco. -Together, with a crooked stick, we -traced out a map of the city on the sand at our -feet. He knew it as well as I and he pointed -to his former home, near the corner of Washington -and Mason streets. Then he pulled from -his breast pocket a letter sweat-stained and -travel-worn, which, read:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p>“To whomever this may concern, I wish to -say that the bearer, George, is the most faithful -servant I have ever had, that he is a good cook,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> -and that he has a lovely character. I will consider -it a favor to myself if his next employer -treats him generously.</p> - -<p class="right"> -<span class="padr4">“<span class="smcap">Mrs. H. L. Hevener</span>,</span><br /> -<span class="padr2">“1180 Mason Street</span><br /> -“San Francisco.”</p> -</div> - -<p>His real name was Eijiro Nurimiya. He had -seen me the day before at the General’s tiffin and -had read the word, “San Francisco,” on my arm -band, but had not ventured to speak to me when -in the General’s presence. He was one of -Nogi’s bodyguard, and I immediately knew he -must be a man of some distinction, for throughout -the camp it was well understood that Nogi -had about him only those private soldiers who -had become eminent for service in the field. -That day and the following days when Nurimiya -came to my bean shed, we had long talks -over the tea and cakes. Thus his story is here -set down:</p> - -<p>He left the Hevener home nearly a year before -the war began and worked in a watchmaker’s -shop on Jackson Street in San Francisco. -Like all of his countrymen he had ambition and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span> -desired to rise above the kitchen. But he was a -reserve conscript, subject, as such reserves are, -to the call of the Emperor at any crisis similar -to the one that his country is now in. So he responded -to this call March 23d, sailing on the -<i>Korea</i> from San Francisco to Kobe, twenty -miles from which his home lay in the Ugi Provinces.</p> - -<p>His father, a mender of broken barrels, -is separated from his mother, who keeps a tea -house in Kioto. There is one sister at the tea -house with his mother. He had three days with -his parents, the first time he had seen them in six -years. Then he sailed for Manchuria, where -he joined the famous Ninth Regiment, the -Black Watch of Japan, a part of the Ninth -Division of the Third Army chosen to conduct -the operations against Port Arthur. This same -regiment had a number of other American Japanese.</p> - -<p>The campaign had progressed two months, -when Nurimiya saw his first great battle. It was -the grand assault against the permanent forts of -Port Arthur, lasting through seven frightful -August days. He is one of the fifteen survivors<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> -of Company C of this Ninth Regiment, which -marched into the Seven Days’ Battle three hundred -and fifty strong.</p> - -<p>The first day Nurimiya went with his comrades -against the north battery of the Cock’s -Comb Fort, which was finally captured on -December 18th. Thus, it took the Japanese -four months of desperate work to accomplish -that for which Nurimiya’s comrades were lost -those seven days in August. Most of the regiment -was wiped out in front of the Cock’s Comb. -What was left, including Nurimiya, was -ordered to reinforce the Seventh Regiment, -operating to the right against the fort of the -Eternal Dragon. Against the Cock’s Comb -Nurimiya fought in the front line. He also -had the same good fortune in the fight against -the Eternal Dragon, for to the Japanese such an -opportunity is considered good fortune. More -of his comrades were lost here, including all that -came from America. The following two days -he lay with a few others hugging the base of the -fort in the broiling sun, cut off from provisions. -About this I asked him:</p> - -<p>“Were you thirsty?”</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span></p> - -<p>He replied: “By-m-by very much want to -drink, so I make water—red water.”</p> - -<p>With that he struck his wrist mimically showing -that he had slit one of his veins to slake his -thirst.</p> - -<p>But the great act of Nurimiya’s life came on -the 25th of August, when he made the ninth -assault he had participated in during the seven -days—and the first successful one. Each Japanese -infantryman carries in his breast a linen -flag—a cheap affair that you might pick up in -a department store for a few pennies—a red sun -on a white field. The first man into an opposing -trench or redoubt waves this flag above his head. -It is a signal to his own artillery, showing them -where they must not fire, and also acquaints -the commanding officer, viewing the action from -some eminence in the rear, with the situation. -Nurimiya was the first man to wave his little flag -over the Eternal Dragon. The Eternal Dragon -was the only fort which the Japanese held in -that permanent Russian line through the three -months of August, September and October, and -it was the object essential to the engineers in outlining -their vast siege operations across the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> -plain. Thus it was the San Francisco watchmaker -who planted the flag of the Rising Sun -on the key fort at Port Arthur.</p> - -<p>General Nogi chose Nurimiya and his fourteen -comrades for body servants and relieved -them for the rest of the campaign from active -duty on the firing line.</p> - -<p>This is how I found him at the General’s -house. I asked if he wanted to go back to -America. He replied:</p> - -<p>“War all finish I go. Nogi-San need me I -stay.”</p> - -<p>Then with great eagerness he told me how he -wanted to get back into the fight and for the first -time in all our acquaintance his eyes lost their -dreaminess and the clasp of his hand became -taut with energy.</p> - -<p>I did not tell him how I that morning had -learned from the General himself that never -again should Nurimiya be subjected to the -supreme test.</p> - -<p>“Is it not pleasant here at headquarters, with -the band, and the foreigners, and the nice cooking, -and the easy work?” I asked.</p> - -<p>He was not interested in what I said. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> -waved an indefinite arm toward the front and -replied:</p> - -<p>“By-m-by they make plenty die off there. -Then I go back.”</p> - -<p>He had not yet learned that he was the General’s -Pet.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span></p> - - <div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="Chapter_Twelve" id="Chapter_Twelve"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">Chapter Twelve</a><br /> -<span class="fs70 lsp0">COURTING DEATH UNDER THE FORTS</span></h2> - </div> - -<div><img class="drop-cap" src="images/130.jpg" width="75" alt="" /></div> - -<p class="drop-cap">Willow tree village, Headquarters -Third Imperial Army, Manchuria, -four miles from Port Arthur, -Oct. 5th:</p> - -<p>It was in August that the Japanese took the -Eternal Dragon, advanced their outposts beyond -its walls, threw up trenches, and settled down -this inch nearer the coveted goal. In this fearful -fight a certain part of the field was taken and -retaken seven times, and finally, for strategic -reasons, though the fort which was the bone of -contention rested with the victors, a piece of -dead ground beyond, over which these repeated -charges had occurred, lay partly within the Russian -lines and partly within our own. Dead -bodies mingled with wounded—Russians jowl -by cheek with Japanese—lay over it so thick that -a man might have walked from one trench to -another without touching the earth. The -wounded could not be succored, the dead could<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> -not be buried except when they lay behind the -opposing trenches. Between, no living thing -could exist. The lines were but three hundred -yards apart—a distance at which even a poor -marksman could shoot fatally, and through all -the twenty-four hours the two trenches were -lined by sharpshooters a rod apart and on the -constant lookout.</p> - -<p>The weather was perfect. By day the sun -shone; by night the moon, assisted by searchlights -and star shells, kept the plain of death as -light as day. The light showed the loopholes of -the trenches so well that they could not be used, -for the moment a shadow appeared behind one -a marksman from the other side would put a -bullet through it. The men sighted the hyposcope—an -instrument first used extensively at -this siege—which is a telescope arranged with -mirrors at a reflex angle, so the scope goes over -a wall while the eye sees in perfect safety twelve -inches below. At occasional places, carefully -shadowed, they kept chinks covered by stones, -which, when the sun sank to the proper angle, -or at dawn, could be uncovered to make a peephole -large enough for a man’s eye.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span></p> - -<p>Now for a month, under a torrid sun, unmarred -by a day of rain or scarce a fleck of -cloud, hundreds of dead have lain rotting in -that compact space. A flag of truce to bury them -was out of the question. The Japanese had far -the worst of it, as their lines, drawn in a lunette, -partly surrounded the charnel house below -which they lay, steeped in its noisome drains. -Moreover, in hastily throwing up their trenches -the night of the battle, corpses, loosely covered; -had been used to improvise the walls, so bodies -and stones together formed a shelter which in -life the men thus commandeered could not have -made. Well the Russians knew of the disease -the sun was breeding, and refused a truce, for -the dead played well into their hands. Stench -could be a weapon more effective than bullets -or strategy. So, day after day they held the -Japanese there, as a dog’s nose is rubbed in his -own mess.</p> - -<p>Watch on sentry posts was cut from four -hours to two, and at the worst portion of the line -to one hour. The pickets swathed their thin -brown faces in towels and the commissary supplied -smelling salts. An officer who served on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> -that picket line twelve days told me that the sun -alone was enough to defeat an ordinary man in -four hours. Added to that the slightest zephyr -bore a fetid breath more foul than the lowest of -a city’s sewers.</p> - -<p>During the first day groans could be heard -occasionally from the contested ground. -Wounded—no one could guess how many—lay -there dying. To have attempted succor would -have been suicide. The pickets did all they -could. They threw rations of biscuits beyond -the trenches, scattering them along the ground, -blindly, of course, but carefully as a farmer -strews a field. A company divided itself; one -part sacrificed its water bottles, slinging across -their shoulders beer bottles, instead of the handy -and handsome aluminum ones furnished by the -army. Then the aluminum bottles, that would -stand the shock of striking, which might shatter -a beer bottle, were tossed over to the starving, -thirsty wretches.</p> - -<p>The second morning there came some desultory -groans from the farther side. The groans -suddenly ceased. Successive rifle pops told that -the Russian sharpshooters had picked off the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> -wounded. Picket duty in the trenches became -more deadly. The army had settled, with quiet -determination, into a siege. One night, as the -moon rose over another division of the army, -two thousand yards to the west, there appeared -above the trenches a cap. A bullet pierced it -instantly, but it was only a feint cap on the end -of a stick. The picket nearest saw it was a Japanese -cap, and called his challenge, “Who goes -there?”</p> - -<p>“Tomodachi!” (a friend) came the response.</p> - -<p>“Show your arm.”</p> - -<p>A small grimed hand on an emaciated forearm -was thrust above the parapet. The picket -grasped it and pulled sharply. With a groan of -agony and relief a bundle of rags, dirt and -clotted blood tumbled into the trench. The -picket forgot his duty as he knelt over his comrade, -for, ground in filth and caked as it was -with dried blood, he could not mistake the universal -brown khaki, and under an arm was slung -a bit of cotton-incased wood—a Shinto emblem, -for this time, at least, triumphant. The wounded -soldier fainted.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/i223.jpg" width="525" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="fs80 right"><em>Copyright, 1905 by Collier’s Weekly</em></p> - -HOW THEY GOT IN<br /> - -Eighteen miles of these trenches were dug through the plain before -the Russian forts.</div> -</div> - -<p>In a field hospital this afternoon I was privileged<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> -and honored in looking upon and talking -with this hero. He is a distinguished soldier of -the famous Ninth Regiment, the Black Watch -of Japan, which lost all but ten per cent. of its -forces in that illustrious assault under the Chinese -wall. So marvelous is the recovery of the -wounded that the soldier smiled as he lay, speaking -occasionally a few words in response to my -interpreted questions. His head and legs were -swathed in bandages and he was sipping saké—a -present from his Emperor. How these soldiers -love their Emperor! Well they may, for a week -ago there sailed into Dalny harbor a transport -laden with presents from His Majesty to his sick -soldiers. All the privates got saké, all the -officers brandy. In addition, every private received -a present of three yen in cash, the non-commissioned -officers from three to ten yen, and -the <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'commssioned officers'">commissioned officers</ins> from ten to sixty yen -each.</p> - -<p>Here is the soldier’s remarkable account:</p> - -<p>“I was one of the few who reached the Chinese -wall that terrible August afternoon. There -were but a few of us left, scarce half a company -out of a regiment, when the Captain in command<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> -ordered us to scale the wall. I had but -reached for the stones when my legs went from -under me—melted away. A shell fragment had -smashed them as a bamboo pole is smashed under -a hammer. The pain was little, but it gradually -spread over my body. I became numb, -then unconscious, and though shells were busy -all about me, lay for hours with no further hurt. -I came to, under the stars.”</p> - -<p>The soldier told little of what he felt and saw, -but it can be imagined; the vast plain, silent but -alive with hostile trenches; the gloomy fortress -above, bristling with cannon, but silent; the concealed -batteries—his own—miles beyond, from -which an occasional boom and whiz startled the -gaunt and shivery searchlights in their fantastic -pencilings; then his sense of comrades lost, of -dear ones perhaps dead within sound of his -voice, with memories of home and better days; -then desolation at defeat, the foe victorious, -pride alone resolute, triumphant to the last.</p> - -<p>He could hear sounds of pick and spade -scratching the chilly earth, clamping into the -shale. Only a few rods away the reinforcements -were hastily throwing up earth-works to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> -hold the hard-won ground. He saw indistinct -forms groping in the dusk, pulling about other -forms, inanimate ones, and hastily covering them -with earth. The dead were being used to more -quickly fill in the embankments. In a few days -those carcasses—rotting—would charge usurious -toll for all the improvised help they were -this fatal night.</p> - -<p>The soldier tried to crawl toward his comrades, -but he could move only a few inches at -a time, so intense was the agony in his legs, for -the cool of night and renewed circulation had -brought back his senses in full keenness.</p> - -<p>Soon dawn came and with it hell. The battle -was on again, this time in other parts of the field, -but the shells and bullets so often passed over -him that he came to think of himself as a dead -man and lived on only because nature exerted -her just law. Like an opossum he feigned death. -Within his sight were more than a hundred dead -and twice as many wounded. Groans welled up -like bubbles from a pot. Arms tossed feverishly. -Backs writhed in despair. Then biscuits -began falling from his own trenches; one fortunately -fell near him. He also managed to get<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> -a tossed-over water bottle. To reach it he was -obliged to crawl a few feet and as his hand -touched it he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder -and the blood trickled. A bullet had pinked -him. Instinctively he fell as if dead.</p> - -<p>It was then that there occurred the thing -which has inflamed the army as tow is inflamed -on bonfire nights. The whole vast amphitheater -was quiet. It was sundown. Nature was in her -most gorgeous raiment. Both armies were at -supper and an involuntary truce seemed to still -the hills and valleys so lately fire-ringed. In -the midst of this peace and beauty a desultory -firing rang from the Russian trenches nearest -the bloody angle in which lay the soldier with -his comrades—dead and worse than dead. The -bullets were directed, not into the opposing -trenches, but into the wounded in the bloody -angle.</p> - -<p>“Stand to your guns, men!” came from the -Japanese trenches, and the men sprang as though -to resist a sortie.</p> - -<p>But there was no sortie. The Russians were -killing the wounded, that the bodies might rot -and drive their comrades from below.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span></p> - -<p>The moving ceased, the groans ceased, the sun -went down, the stars and searchlights came. Impelled -by the first law of nature the soldier -dragged on, wearily, as he supposed, toward his -friends. But the ground was level and he must -have gone laterally. Toward dawn he tumbled -into a deserted trench and found a sort of sheltered -dugout. It was a covered passage to the -Russian fort and untenable now by either side. -In it were two Japanese so desperately wounded -they could not move and could barely speak. -He shared his last drop of water with them.</p> - -<p>As they were drinking a figure slouched along -the trench and blocked the doorway. It wore -a black-visored cap, shiny with celluloid—a -Russian cap. Searching the gloom the Russian -found the three wounded soldiers. Then he -poked his rifle in and fired three bullets—one -at the brain of each. Two died instantly. The -third—the soldier who had already survived -as by a miracle—passed into what he thought -was the rigor of death. All grew black before -his eyes. Never from that moment to this—seventeen -days later—has he seen even a glimmer, -nor will he ever see again. The bullet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> -passed across his eyes as he lay side down and -shattered the optic nerve.</p> - -<p>The Russian thought his work complete. -Leaving his rifle outside he passed into the dugout -and emptied the pockets of the two dead -men and the third, whom he believed to be dead. -Then sneaking back up the passage, the Russian -regained his own lines.</p> - -<p>For five days the soldier lay in the dugout, -unable to move, unable to see, numb from long -suffering. Almost crazed by thirst and hunger, -he at length severed the arteries of one of his -fallen comrades, newly dead, and lived on. He -found worms crawling in the wounds of his legs. -He tore up the shirt of a corpse and bound them.</p> - -<p>Then began as memorable a journey as man -ever made, as heroic a combat for life as pioneer -or warrior ever underwent. He started to -crawl to the Japanese lines. Blinded, paralyzed, -his legs shattered, one arm useless, half -dead with fatigue, his tongue swollen with thirst, -and starving, he made his piteous way a few -yards each night.</p> - -<p>Directions were useless. Seeing nothing he -could not tell whether firing came from friend<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span> -or foe. He only knew that his way was down. -So down he crawled. Bullets and shells passing -over him became so common he lost all sense of -them. By a terrible mistake—an error that cost -twelve days of agony, for otherwise he might -have traveled the few essential yards in a night—he -missed the captured fort which marked the -apex of the wedge driven into the Russian lines. -And so his fearful, sublime crawl was for a -thousand yards along the front of his own lines, -into which at any time, had he turned straight -along the face of the hill, he might have come -and found sound legs and new, clear eyes. But -down was his direction and down he went—a -thousand yards in twelve nights. He found a -few new dead with biscuit in their pockets and -blood in their veins—this saved him.</p> - -<p>So history repeats itself. Ten years ago—to -the month—the Japanese lay without Port -Arthur as they do to-day. Instead of Russians, -Chinese were inside. But as the Japanese advanced -along the western wall they suddenly at -a bend in the way came upon ten bodies—no -more—of their own comrades, stripped and -mutilated, the heads grinning from pikes above.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> -The Chinese had visited their own vengeance on -successful enemies. But the act lost them Port -Arthur. The Japanese became an army of -fanatics, a tribe of solemn, righteous men, inflamed -with the zeal of retribution, blazing with -revenge, as did once that ancient civilization -founded on the prophetic watchword, “An eye -for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.” The next day -Port Arthur fell. Those ten bodies cost the -Chinese a province, a fortune and an island -kingdom.</p> - -<p>How will the Russians pay? I asked this of -a certain Lieutenant-General, who told me some -of the details I have just related. He raised his -arm and pointed beyond the bombproof in which -we sat to where the western harbor, with its -magnificent Russian stone dwellings rising beyond -could be plainly seen.</p> - -<p>“We have a proverb in our country,” said -he, “like this, ‘Once won, well won; twice won, -never lost.’”</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span></p> - - <div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="Chapter_Thirteen" id="Chapter_Thirteen"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">Chapter Thirteen</a><br /> -<span class="fs70 lsp0">FROM KITTEN TO TIGER</span></h2> - </div> - -<div><img class="drop-cap" src="images/044.jpg" width="75" alt="" /></div> - -<p class="drop-cap">Headquarters, Third Imperial -Army, Before Port Arthur, Sept. -30th:—We went yesterday to the foremost -firing line, where all the venom -of war is concentrated in a score of yards among -a dozen men. There we saw how the besiegers -of Port Arthur are besieging it, how they live, -what manner of men they are, and some of the -facts of modern warfare which those who want to -know about the humanity of science had better -not read. Before we went an officer led us to a -bombproof on the Japanese side of the great -valley across which we were to go to gain the -captured fort.</p> - -<p>“Look!” said he, turning over his hyposcope, -“the way is about a mile and a half. The real -danger is in the fort itself, but if you are very -careful to crawl with your heads low you are -safe. If you decide to go you must relieve our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> -authorities from all responsibility for your -lives.”</p> - -<p>Across the valley a puff of white spat out a -tongue of flame; a shell crashed into the escarpment -below us. From across the valley came the -intermittent puffing of outposts. A mis-shot bullet -lapped up a patch of dust twenty paces to our -right.</p> - -<p>“Well, gentlemen, will you go? It’s a quiet -morning. We had better start soon if at all, for -the sun is in their eyes now; soon it will be -against us and then they can pick us off like -flies.”</p> - -<p>Villiers was with me. “What do you say?” -he asked. “It’s time to measure risks. Think -what you’ll get out of it. A correspondent -dead is of no use to his paper, and people -remember him as a fool who got shot in some -reckless venture. Remember, you’re going into -bullet fire for the first time. You’ve had shell -fire only, up to now, and shell fire is to bullets -what a bluebottle fly is to a tiger mosquito. -Forbes used to have a supreme contempt for -shell fire and a supreme respect for bullets. A -shell buzzes and blows—a bullet flits in quietly,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> -spits through an artery, the heart, the head—and -it’s all over. Their rifles fire point blank -at 200 yards and up where you want to go the -lines are but forty yards apart. They can -pick off a ten-cent piece at that distance. Remember, -if your head shows so much as an inch -above that parapet, you’re only good to sniff at -when the wind blows from you, for these people -have no extra stretcher for your useless carcass.” -Villiers can say these things. Somewhere in his -London studio is his order of St. George which -the Czar gave him for audacity at Plevna. Also -some seven other governments have decorated -him for fit war behavior, so he is an expert on -battlefields.</p> - -<p>“But,” said I, “think of what there is up -there: the bloody angle, scene of the death of -3,000 men, heaps of unburied slain, trenches -made of corpses, sentries firing, the living sleeping, -eating, working among their dead comrades, -the enemy on three sides, with this single -line of supply and retreat down which only four -men can march abreast. This captured fort is -to the siege of Port Arthur what Nanshan is to -the campaign—its decisive battle. It is the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> -wedge Japan is driving into the heart of Russia -and we’ll be on its tip. When the nations hear -the truth about this fort—the assault that captured -it, the odds against which it was fortified -and held for six weeks—it will be the marvel of -the age. Think! Would you miss standing on -the apex of the world?”</p> - -<p>“I was a youngster myself once and I’m not -old now,” replied Villiers. “They fake these -things in London almost as well as I can do -them in the field, so why risk my bones? But -I’m as good as a Japanese officer or an American -reporter. Up to now we’ve been chaperoned -scribblers; here we become war correspondents. -It smells of the old days: Forbes, -Cameron, Pierce, McGahan, Jackson, Burleigh—and -that crowd of gay devils. Lead on.” -Perhaps you will be more interested in Villiers -to know that he is supposed to be the original of -Kipling’s character, Dick the Artist, in “The -Light that Failed.”</p> - -<p>So we went into the chipmunk’s burrow, up -through the cornfields, frowned on by a hundred -thousand guns, menaced by two armies, -until we nestled in the ragged hole Japan has<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> -torn in Russia’s impregnable last stand. Laterally -down the line of our advance, but high over -our heads, shells often rammed their harsh bewilderment -and we could hear them strike, -sometimes rods, sometimes miles away. How -like a live thing a shell snarls—as some wild -beast, in ferocious glee thrusting the cruel fangs -in earth and rock, rending livid flesh with its -savage claws, and its fetid breath with poison -powder scorching the autumn wind! ’Most -always it fizzes and funks in shameful waste. -Bullets are the nasty things; a who-whit, a dry -spat, a thin hole drilled in a frightful way, as -snakes sling their venom in sly and easy scorn. -When we got halfway up, and into the angle, -so that Russian trenches were on three sides, a -number sped about us. Hardly a minute but -one passed over our heads.</p> - -<p>The situation looks well in print. Yet we -were in little danger. Our wits kept—we were -safe. For this let us profoundly thank the engineer -who built that siege parallel—a cunning -masterful Yankee of the East, whose name as a -military engineer must be handed down to -future generations of technical students. He<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> -had taken advantage of every rise in the ground -and of every depression. Of corn stubble he -made a drapery, of hillocks a screen, of ravines -an ambuscade, until Nature so aided him that -she and not the Japanese infantry was the assaulting -force against those heights beyond.</p> - -<p>We walked twenty meters apart, for, should -we by any chance lift our heads together and be -sighted in a party, the Russians could drop a -bit of shrapnel over us. Otherwise we might -be off for a morning stroll down a country lane. -We crouched as we walked, for the trench was -built for Japanese, who average a few inches -less in height than a foreigner. The distance as -the crow flies was little over half a mile; we -went nearly a mile and a half. At one side ran -a telephone wire, staked down at intervals with -broken, rusty rifles. At every angle a sentry -saluted, stepping forth grimly from a dugout. -Halfway up we passed a stretcher bearing a -body, the face covered with coarse matting, -sewn roughly—a corpse of the night before. -Farther on came a soldier with his arm in a wet, -crimson sling. Half an hour before, feeling -secure after days in the ominous place, he had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> -passed into a ravine he thought safe, but out of -the path chosen by the clever engineer. He was -in the Russian fire zone and presently a shell -fragment smashed his arm. From a dozen to -fifteen are lost that way every day.</p> - -<p>Across the valley we halt at the foot of a hill -and then turn into the fort. Chloride of lime is -sprinkled here over the human effluvia that nowhere -else can be deposited, but a bone sticks -out of the trench wall. I look closely. It is a -human femur. From it projects a heavy coil of -rubber-insulated cable. The officer explains -that this formed the electric communications -with the barbed wire entanglements through -which we are passing, and that on the day of the -fight it was charged so that when the Japanese -pioneers tried to cut the wire with pincers they -were prostrated with the shock and had to wait -for glove-handled tools. Beside it is a long -strip of bamboo, torn and shattered. This was -carried to the attack by two soldiers who with -it tossed into the fort a short strip of bamboo -stuffed with gun cotton. This, exploding, tore a -hole through which the men could charge. It -was a more effective bombardment than the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> -shells. As we turned the corner we came upon -the men and at last we saw the besiegers of Port -Arthur, where they were living, 200 yards from -the Russian trenches, in the famous redoubt -where enough men have been killed to cover the -place four deep with corpses.</p> - -<p>The officer took up a pick lying in the trench. -“Look!” said he, “the point was sharp as a -grindstone could make it to begin with, but in -some places, you know, the rock is hard and—” -he would apologize. He was very sorry we -should find the picks in such bad condition. He -was always apologizing. He apologized for the -length of the way, the heat of the sun, the annoyance -of the shells. But the boys in khaki smiled -on. Word passed as to who we were and they -greeted us dumbly, spread out their pitiful small -blankets, pulled from obscure coats and corners -their precious sweetmeats, advanced the cigarettes -that mean more than beef to a soldier, offered -us their still more precious tea. All over -them was written their joy in being recognized, -in having someone share their hardships.</p> - -<p>Death on the battlefield is the height of this -soldier’s ambition. But not uncleanliness on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> -battlefield, and all the time we sat there I was -aware of a pervasive, sickening odor, something -strange, something frightfully offensive.</p> - -<p>“What can it be?” I said as it bore in upon -me and I felt suddenly nauseated.</p> - -<p>“Well, in the hurry of building these trenches, -in the night, under fire, a few dead bodies—only -a few—were rolled into the escarpment. -We very much regretted it——.” The officer -apologized profusely, but they had been under -fire ever since and the trenches could not -be torn down. So they stood—human walls. -“But I can assure you there is no smell now. -The first week, in the hot sun—Ah! then I -should not have liked to bring you here.” As I -leaned against the wall something crushed, like -the snap of a pencil, under my back. I leaped, -in alarm, to my feet. As I turned around a blue -coat, which I had pushed back in my fatigue, -fell over the skeleton of a hand, and at my feet -dropped the joint of a forefinger. Villiers -pulled me to my knees.</p> - -<p>“Look over there,” he said and pointed beyond -the trench. I saw fresh earth heaped up. -“It is the brow of the Russian works,” he said,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> -“but look in between—that pit of uniforms.” A -mound of soiled, tattered clothes, higher than a -man could stand, and longer than a company -street, lay before us, not fifty feet away. At the -base, facing me, detached from the rest, a hideous -skull leered. “Unburied dead,” Villiers -said, “hugging the ground, sent back into the -earth from whence they came.”</p> - -<p>Then the officer apologized. Yes, there was -no chance to bury the dead. Under constant fire -for six weeks, between hostile lines, they slowly -rotted away until only bones and rags remained—Russian -and Japanese inextricably together -on the scene of the last desperate Russian stand, -where was concentrated all the machine gun -fire of both sides.</p> - -<p>Wounded and dying had been mixed with -dead. No succor was possible. A general must -count his men as fighting units and he could not -afford to pay a dozen good lives for one injured. -We turned to go—stomach and heart sick, but -the boys in khaki smiled. They were used to it. -Just then the postman passed. He had a handful -of cards, scrawled over with loving messages.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span></p> - -<p>As we saw how complete the service was—mail -delivered under the shadow of guns, and -as a man goes on to the firing line to offer up his -life—we suddenly came to the telephone which -made us think how near we were to all we held -dear. That line was connected with headquarters, -headquarters with Tokyo, Tokyo with New -York and London. I suddenly saw myself ringing -up the editor to catch an edition.</p> - -<p>“Hello! just arrived at the Eternal Dragon. -Quiet this morning. Russian sortie last night. -Repulsed. One Japanese, eighteen Russians lost—three -wounded between the lines calling for -water——”</p> - -<p>“Hold on, what’s that?”</p> - -<p>“Wait a minute till I stop this infernal -racket.” Down with the receiver. <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'To the Colenel'">To the Colonel</ins>: -“Can’t you stop that battery a minute? -I’m at the ’phone.”</p> - -<p>“All right, editor. Wounded man says—Hold -on a minute. It’s that blasted volley firing. -All right. I was saying, a wounded—Hell, -here comes a shell!”</p> - -<p>We turned another corner and came upon the -commander of the regiment—a lieutenant-colonel,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> -stern-faced, with that eternal smile, a countenance -nationally characteristic. He welcomed -us to his shelter between two walls—which the -Russians had built and which our shells destroyed. -His staff—a captain and a major—sat -crosslegged on one side. We sat on a red-blanketed -bench on the other. Crosslegged, on -his red blanket, he was no better fitted than his -men. At his side on a nail hung his sword and -cap. Behind him suspended from two wires -was the regimental flag, in a plush case. It is -30 years old, has been in 18 battles, and is all -but gone from bullet fire. To the regiment it -is a sacred emblem. This is the illustrious Seventh -Regiment which captured the Eternal -Dragon, after losing all but ten per cent. of its -number and which now, after a month with the -reserves when its ranks were replenished, is -back for a week on sentry duty. So intense is -the service there, one week in four is all a single -regiment can stand. We were served with tea -in daintily lacquered cups and then the lieutenant-colonel -passed saké and tea, asking permission -to drink our health.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/i245.jpg" width="650" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="fs80 right"><em>Copyright, 1905, by Collier’s Weekly</em></p> - -THE LAST WORD<br /> - -An officer giving final instructions to his men before the Grand Assault of September 21. -This photograph was taken in the front parallel, 300 yards -from the Cock’s Comb Fort.</div> -</div> - -<p>“Where is the Colonel?” I asked the officer.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> -Then he apologized again. He was sorry he -couldn’t oblige me, but unfortunately the Colonel -had been killed about twenty yards from -where I then sat. His body had been cremated -within three paces of my present seat. Just beyond -the tent I could see his grave, should I -look. I leaned out and in a niche of the wall -saw a plain white stick ideographed in black. -At the base was a bottle of flowers and a Chinese -pumpkin. It contained the ration a soldier calls -“iron,” and some sweetmeats beside a can of -water. Then we knew what some living soldier -had done. The ghost might come wandering -back in the night and be hungry. It should not -suffer. We went on to more tea with the new -live Colonel and some sweetmeats which we -utilized differently than the ghost had evidently -utilized his. “How was he killed?” I asked. -Then we heard the story of the capture of the -Eternal Dragon.</p> - -<p>“It was a hot August afternoon,” said the -officer, our interpreter, “and the general of this -division, a very determined man, resolved that -the time had come to pierce the Russian center. -So he chose the Seventh Regiment for the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> -honor. It is the regiment to which the young -Captain, wounded, and rescued by the Russian -prisoner, of whom you were talking this morning, -belonged. The Colonel made his plan of -attack to have his command advance in three -battalions, one on each flank and one in the front, -the flanks to be the real attack, the front to be a -feint. He, himself, commanded the feint, and, -as usual, stayed in the rear. He sent his pioneer -corps ahead to cut the barbed wire entanglements. -They came back with the report of electric -charge. They went forward again with -insulated pincers and the regiment followed. -All the way to the base of the hill, where we -now are, they were almost unmolested, when -they had expected to meet a fierce shell fire. -This made them confident. But the Russian -general, as we afterward learned, had ordered -his men to reserve their fire till we got within -close range, and then to give it to us with machine -guns. So the two side battalions got safely -well up to the slope, only to meet a terrible rain -of steel from the top. The aim was so sure and the -firing so heavy that nearly two-thirds of the command -was mowed down at once. And the surprise<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> -we found was in their construction of the -fort. Where we supposed our shells had opened -gaps in it, we found it intact and our assaulting -party unable to gain foothold, for the Russians -had placed boiler plates under two feet of earth -and the shells had had little or no effect on it.</p> - -<p>“When the Colonel learned all this he got -mad, and instantly ordered the third Battalion to -assault the front in force. He led the charge. -A few of the men got in and fought hand to -hand with the Russians. By that time another -regiment had arrived with reinforcements, -charged through the breach and overwhelmed -the Russians, driving them out of the place. -Though we are dominated by six of their batteries -and have been assaulted by them eighteen -times in attempts to recapture, we have ever -since held it. The Colonel’s body was found -under a heap of slain. In it were twenty-four -bullet holes. His sword was broken at the hilt. -His cap was missing and we searched for it a -long time without success, until one day our -lookout spied it between the lines. Certain death -seemed the price for a man to try to get it, but as -soon as the Colonel’s servant, a soldier, learned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> -where it was, he volunteered and succeeded one -dark night in regaining it, so the cremation -could take place properly. If you wish now, -follow the Captain into the fort and you will -see the foremost trenches. Keep your heads -low.”</p> - -<p>Then we saw the kitten become a tiger. We -passed from the hospitable soldier, with his -sweetheart’s letters, his welcoming smile, his innocent -and friendly telephone, his harmless tea -and cakes, to the firing line, to death, and to -worse than death.</p> - -<p>It was hands and knees into the fort and the -front trenches. This is the tip of the bloody -angle, with the enemy on three sides. Bullets -passed over us continually. Shells were bursting -far away. Twice we passed half ruined -chambers built of timber below ground—Russian -food and ammunition shelter. It was high -noon. At length we lay, panting, under a pile -of sapling poplars; above us were sand bags six -deep.</p> - -<p>“We are perfectly safe here,” said the officer, -and we looked out.</p> - -<p>“Except from ricochet bullets,” added Villiers.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> -“The zone of fire of those chaps yonder -is away from us and as long as they exchange -we’re all right. Shells can’t reach us, even -shrapnel would be nullified by this covering, but -when those bullets strike a stone no one can tell -how they will come. They can shoot around a -corner from a flat stone as easily as in the open -through a loop-hole.”</p> - -<p>I heard nothing. Standing up, secure, my -eyes came upon him suddenly—the soldier of -the Emperor, the boy who does the trick—at -work. He was crouched under the parapet in -front, rifle to cheek, its steel nose through a -loophole, his finger on the trigger. The tensity -of his muscles and his eyes glancing down that -barrel in deadly aim made me think of nothing -but a great cat pausing for a spring. One leg was -drawn up, his cap was pulled down viciously -over his eyes, the sun beat upon him and he -lay, venomous with pent-up passion, cut in silhouette -against the trenches, a shade darker than -the shale. A minute before he had offered me -tea and a cigarette; now he was dealing out hot -lead. Yet, who could suspect danger, with all -so still and clear! But life most intense and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> -death the most terrible and swift dwelt all about -us. Through chinks in the wall a row of sand -bags on a mound of earth could be seen. They -marked the Russian trenches behind which the -enemy lay as silent and deadly as the boys on -our side. Not a minute passed without its bullet. -Forty meters was the distance, the officer said, -the closest place in the whole ten-mile front of -the two armies. By day, when the Russians stay -quiet, sentries stand three yards apart, by night, -shoulder to shoulder. They are changed every -thirty minutes so intense is the strain. A regiment -can stay in the fort only seven days because -the Russians are above and on three sides, and -they must keep them out, while they stew in -their own juice and their comrades rot beyond -the wall. When a sortie is made neither side -asks for quarter nor expects it. The Russians -know that unless they regain their trenches they -will not live, for to be wounded and fall in the -bloody angle means slow death where no aid -can come; to meet the Japanese line means instant -death. The Japanese know their chances, -if wounded, are the same, and if they reach -the Russian lines they accept only two things—victory<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> -or death. So it is that here through long -weeks the siege has concentrated its bitterest -essence, living has come to be a burden and -death a joy.</p> - -<p>Then came the thud of a bullet. It was a different -thud from any we had had up to that -time, and though I had never before heard a -bullet strike flesh, I could not mistake the sound. -It goes into the earth wholesome and angry, but -into flesh ripping and sick with a splash like a -hoof beat of mud in the face.</p> - -<p>I turned to look. I saw the nearest sentry -sinking to his knees. His rifle had dropped and -was leaning against the wall, butt down. He -sank together all in a heap and his head hung -limp, his chin against his breast.</p> - -<p>“Poor chap,” said Villiers, “he was looking -at us and got in front of the loop hole. I suppose -we are so great a novelty in his strained -existence that he could not resist the temptation -to neglect his duty for a minute.”</p> - -<p>We crawled back and out silently and quickly, -bade a hurried good-by to the Colonel, hastened -past the smiling, oblivious men—they are -used to it—and over a mile and a half of chipmunk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> -burrow. The General was waiting tiffin -for us in his tent. There was a jar containing -strawberry jam like grandmother used to make. -With a flash it brought back all the comforts of -home. An empty shell in the center of the table -held some field daisies and <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'wild crysanthemums'">wild chrysanthemums</ins>. -All the fragrance of the fields and the beauties -of nature came with them. At my mess plate -lay an American newspaper, just delivered by -this incomprehensible field post. With it civilization, -its myriad passions and joys, floated -in. As the cigars were passed I opened the -paper. I found an interview with Dr. Nicholas -Senn, of Chicago, in which he said:</p> - -<p>“All the talk of inhumanity which some correspondents -are sending out from the Orient is -foolish. Statements of soldiers being wounded -in the mouth and reports of all similar acts -of atrocity can be set down as being without -foundation. Russia has the best Red Cross Society -in the world and the Russians are an -extremely humane people. Likewise, this war -is going to be a humane war. As for the Japanese, -the worst that can be said of them is that -they are a proud people.” I read this aloud. It<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> -was translated and the officers, Lieutenant-General -Oshima and his staff, listened. None of -them replied. Finally Villiers said:</p> - -<p>“The question is not: Are the Japanese or the -Russians a humane people, or not a humane people? -It is: Are individual men, under conditions -the most terrible the imagination can -devise, Christians or savages? Both Japanese -and Russians socially are delightful people. I’ve -lived with the armies of both nations and their -soldiers are delightful and humane. But that -is not the question.</p> - -<p>“Now, is it possible for soldiers living as we -saw them to-day—in their own filth, unable to -succor the wounded, preyed on by stenches from -the dead, until battle in which they neither ask -nor give quarter is a welcome relief—can the -word ‘humane’ be uttered in speaking of lives -such as theirs? Or can it be uttered of the Russians—driven -into a trap, half-starved, night -and day in the trenches, confronted by overwhelming -numbers, with certainty of no relief, -yet defending a lost hope with lives easier lost -than lived? Would you be ‘humane’ under -such conditions? I am sure I would not.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span></p> - -<p>“No. The truth about war cannot be told. -It is too horrible. The public will not listen. -A white bandage about the forehead with a -strawberry mark on the center is the picture -they want of the wounded. They won’t let you -tell the truth and show bowels ripped out, brains -spilled, eyes gouged away, faces blanched with -horror. The only painter fellow who ever told -the truth about war was Verestchagin, poor chap, -drowned over there in the harbor. He in paint -and Zola in words told the truth and they were -howled down and ostracized all their lives, simply -because the theorists, like this surgeon, fed -up with themselves, nursed in the belief that -science is all powerful, will always assure the -public that modern war is humane.</p> - -<p>“Scientific warfare! Let me tell you the facts -about science. Archibald Forbes predicted -twenty years ago that the time would come when -armies would no longer be able to take their -wounded from the field of battle. That day has -come. We are living in it. Wounded have existed—how, -God alone knows—on that field out -there, without help, for twelve days, while shell -and bullets rained above them, and if a comrade<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> -had dared to come to their assistance his would -have been a useless suicide. The searchlight, the -enginery of scientific trenches, machine guns, -rifles point blank at 200 yards with a range of -2,000—these things have helped to make warfare -more terrible now than ever before in -history.</p> - -<p>“Red Cross societies and scientific text-books—they -sound well and look pretty, but as for -‘humane warfare’—was there ever put into -words a mightier sarcasm!”</p> - -<p>This was translated. The officers—Lieutenant-General -Oshima and three of his staff—listened, -gravely. No one said anything. Finally, -we walked home silently as the sun went down.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span></p> - - <div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="Chapter_Fourteen" id="Chapter_Fourteen"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">Chapter Fourteen</a><br /> -<span class="fs70 lsp0">SCIENTIFIC FANATICS</span></h2> - </div> - -<div><img class="drop-cap" src="images/258.jpg" width="75" alt="" /></div> - -<p class="drop-cap">Noon found me well up toward the firing -line, assured by the staff that it -would be the day of days. To get -there I passed a mile and more of batteries—the -Osacca guns vomiting balls of fire, -puff-balls of smoke and fat, heavy balls of steel; -the howitzers—coyotes of artillery—spitting -from peaks, snapping, louder than the monsters -growl below; the naval six-inch turret firers, -rakishly sunk in valleys, their greyhound noses -dappled with mud, baying out reverberations -at which even the sulking sun might have -shuddered; the field four-point-sevens, bag-redoubted, -conventional as pictures, flinging -forth the business barks of house dogs; then, -finally, the hand one-pounders, hauled well up -the parallels, their bodies angled half-wise and -as forlorn amid such colossal music as a penny -whistle before a symphony orchestra. To be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> -in it, to pass through it, to feel this whiz and -boom people the air above with demon gossip, to -sniff from ravines the gusts seeped with cordite -and with phosphorus, while in the far-stretched -vistas bluecoat files wind through the fierce, -vain taunts hurled in among them—ah, this is the -atmosphere—the grand, the fearful, the unspeakably -sublime atmosphere of war.</p> - -<p>Cloudy! Yes, but what day could smile in -the face of such a row as this? The grand bombardment -has been on for five days. We call it -the “grand” bombardment, to distinguish it -from that other trifling bombardment of a few -hundred field guns that was on for nearly three -months. Now the big coast defense mortars -from Osacca, hurling shells the size of donkeys, -are ripping the lining from the doomed fortress. -We cry for rest, but there is no rest. Night and -day the fearful din keeps up. The paper windows -of the Manchurian house where we live, -two miles away, have been blown out twice by -concussions. The mountains tremble. If you -get within a hundred yards of the guns, you must -wear cotton batting in your ears and walk tiptoe -to save ear-drums. This for a ten-mile front,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> -with infantry and regular artillery hammering -the spaces out, was enough to discourage the sun. -Sun, however, is an incident. War waits for no -weather.</p> - -<p>Halfway in among the batteries I paused for -guidance. There were certain lines between -our batteries and the Russian batteries which -were called “lines of fire,” and these lines were -good places to avoid. Soon two soldiers, each -with a rice bag on his back, came along, and I -picked up their trail. There was a narrow valley -which led to the Ninth Division, whose firing -line was to be the center of the attack and -for which I was bound. Along the center of -this valley seemed to me the right way, but the -soldiers headed straight across it, business-like, -stolid, as if they knew where to go, and I followed. -We were fair in the midst of it then. -In ravines on both sides the Osacca mortars were -hid. From behind and directly over our heads -a naval battery was firing, and in front of us -there were four or five batteries of field artillery, -opening the engagement. There was never a -moment without two or three shells in the air -directly over our heads. So long as they were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> -friendly shells—imagine a shell being friendly!—no -one seemed to mind. (That “seemed” is -a good word to describe my state.) But directly -they came viciously from across the valley—look -out! Presently one did come that way. -I knew it was coming. How? I felt it. So -the ground in front found my stomach and my -nose sniffed the gravel. It could not have -passed very far above our heads—this shell—for -when it exploded behind the dust showered over -us, and I thanked myself for lying down, else a -fragment might have rapped me so I would -have cared nothing for dust or dirt of stale encampments. -Of course, the soldiers must have -lain down, too—they surely must have known -the danger. I looked up to laugh with them, -but they were trudging on stolidly, as if they -were carrying a pound of meat home from the -butcher’s. When the dust came they blinked—that -was all. I was so ashamed I hardly dared -show myself; yet I needed my legs to get on out -of the line of fire, and there are times one -forgets his pride. I ran; but no need to be -ashamed; they had not seen me fall, had neither -quickened nor lessened pace, had turned not so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> -much as an eyelash to left or right. They had -orders to take that rice to the battery, and to the -battery they were going. So I paused—amazement -surviving fear—and looked at them, cogs -of the machine, secret of an army’s strength, of -its indomitable bravery. As well expect the -shafts of an engine to cry quits when the trucks -spring a hot box!</p> - -<p>At length I found myself where the pewit of -bullets beat a quickstep for the inferno aloft. -It was on the crest in front of the farthest field -artillery, at the rear of the parallels in which -the infantry lay, huddled masses of blue dabbed -above with glints of bayonet steel, waiting for -the assault. Occasionally the sun came out and -sent a heliograph message from those bayonets -to me, and then, like myself, sought cover again. -The four forts slated for attack by the two divisions -in my view lay directly in front, about a -mile and a half by parallels and approaches, but, -as my vision went, eight hundred yards for the -nearest, fifteen hundred for the farthest. From -the rear that assorted pack of war-dogs flung -suspense and agony, surprise and death, over my -head. Beyond, the forts, hung like a corona of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> -barbarous gems on the brow of the mountain -range, gushed forth pain and disgust.</p> - -<p>The Pine Tree fort (Shodzuzan) on the extreme -right was afire, had been for two hours, -and the smoke from it, blown by a northwest -wind, lifted raggedly square across the field. -Through the slight haze each explosion opposite -could be seen, as it tore out, now a chunk of a -mountain and now a crater from a parapet. -About half-past twelve the star bomb chamber -of the south battery, the one nearest, was struck, -and for ten minutes an explosion of day fireworks -held the line. On the north battery two -guns hung across the parapet, their backs -broken, useless. On the two smaller forts between, -the P and M redoubts, men could be -seen feverishly working at a rear intrenchment. -Evidently they were preparing to retire from -the front line, where they already scented danger. -But they as evidently showed determination -to fight to the last ditch—which they did. -All four of these forts, spread fanwise halfway -down this mountain slope, formed the group -called the Cock’s Comb (Keikan, Japanese; -Keekwan, Chinese), and above them on the skyline<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> -the comb could be plainly seen, lacking only -the dab of red, later to be given its approaches, -to give it the cock color. It was on the Cock’s -Comb that half of the great losses in August occurred. -Some ten thousand Japanese had already -been mowed down there, for every slope -was prepared for enfilading by two batteries, the -moats were deep, the fortifications of masonry -and the glacis sheer and slippery. Yet the -Cock’s Comb once taken, the Russians must -yield, for it was to the siege of Port Arthur what -Nanshan was to the campaign—the decisive -position. Once driven from there, the enemy’s -back would be broken. The fall of the Cock’s -Comb and the Two Dragons, on December 31st, -forced Stoessel’s surrender.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/i265.jpg" width="650" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="fs80 right"><em>Copyright, 1905, by Collier’s Weekly</em></p> - -PREPARING FOR DEATH<br /> - -A superstition holds that <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'the Jananese soldier'">the Japanese soldier</ins> who dies dirty finds no place among the Shinto Shades; -so before going into action every soldier changes his linen, as this one is -doing, <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'preceeding the battle'">preceding the battle</ins> of October 29.</div> -</div> - -<p>At one o’clock the bombardment seemed to -have reached a climax of intensity. The parapets -of the four forts were alive with bursting -shrapnel. A hundred a minute were exploding -on each (at fifteen gold dollars apiece). The -air above them was black with the glycerine -gases of the mortar shells, and the wind blowing -toward the sea held huge quantities of dust. -Timber splinters were in the air and rocks were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> -flying. Not a fort replied, and from the entire -eight-and-one-half-mile front of the Russian line -there were few answers. Once about every ten -minutes a wheezy battery off on the Liaotishan -Peninsula sent a shell promiscuously into our -vast field, apparently to show that the defense -was yet at least gasping for breath.</p> - -<p>In the front parallels the infantry seemed on -the move. There was a shifting of rifles, and in -three of them, from end to end, a man could be -seen running. The night before I had been up -there to find all of the soldiers changing their -linen and sponging themselves off as best they -could with old towels and soiled handkerchiefs. -They were purifying themselves for death. A -superstition as old as Japan says that a man who -dies dirty finds no place among the Shinto -shades. Now they were waiting calmly, each -with an overcoat and spade across his back. -Why the spade? Will it be necessary to hastily -intrench for the night far up the slope? Each -had an “iron” ration in his pocket, and a pint -of cold tea in his flask. Two hundred rounds of -ammunition in his three leather pouches go to -help the bayoneted rifle that he slings by its strap,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> -its butt dragging as he goes up the hill. What a -job it is, this, of living in a pocket handkerchief, -on compressed air, giving and receiving death, -for three cents a day!</p> - -<p>At one-fifteen our fire changes. The four -forts are left to their silence and devastation, and -the fat balls travel westward to the Pine Tree -and the Two Dragons. For a moment the slopes -stand out, ghastly with smoke, pitted like strawberries, -each pit a shell hole deep enough to give -a man shelter.</p> - -<p>Before anyone knows it the assault is on. The -four get it at once. From the bottom of each, -out of the approach sapped there in the night, a -handful of men is fed, as corn might drop, grain -by grain, ground from a hopper. They get a -few rods up when another handful is fed, then -another, until the whole face of the hill is -swarming with tiny figures, their blue turned in -the distance to black, the space between each at -no place less than two yards, at none more than -two rods. Not in battalion phalanx, as the picture -books show, shells dismembering, arms -thrown aloft, faces wild with battle’s glory, terror, -agony, but steadily, sanely seeking every<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> -cover, deploying with skirmish formation, they -go on and up, into the jaws of death, into the -mouth of hell. Not a life is thrown away, not -a precious head wasted.</p> - -<p>Not fifty yards up the Russian lookout scouts -them, and then we see we are not facing a beaten -foe, but a waiting one. Until that moment no -sound came from the enemy. No shells chucked -away at hidden batteries, no rifle ammunition -plumped into the sandbags of parallels, no -shrapnel sent hit-or-miss over the fields searching -for an unseen foe—not any of that stupid, -wild game for them. They have let the preparation -go on, all the fuss and fury, the bombardment, -the sapping, and now we see what they are -up to. It is all hit with them, no miss, they have -no ammunition to waste. Their backs are to -the wall. Their defense is determined, great. -Deadly purpose is in that silence.</p> - -<p>The sun is out for a moment, the smoke has -lifted. Through my glass I see it all as perfectly -as though on a chessboard; the sprawling -blue ants creeping up, rifle-butts dragging, the -line officers ahead, the field behind. Far in advance -of the squad on the P fort a young lieutenant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> -is running, carried out of himself in -passion, foolish in zeal, waving his sword. Almost -fifty yards behind him, his nearest file-sergeant -lumbers stolidly on, as stolidly as my two -companions of the morning lumbered with their -bags of rice. At that moment they meet what -they changed their linen for the night before. -From all the Russian batteries, from silent nooks, -from huge, open emplacements, from mountain -recesses, from the entire line of parapets, it -comes—the Russian reply. So here is the why -of that previous ghostly silence. Every shot -must tell. Bursts directly above send vitreous -blue shoots of smoke as of strata sidewise, then -curl voluminously upward, the edges unfolding -to the breeze; the deadly shrapnel downward -shooting bits of lead and steel. Enfilading from -all crests, over the shoulders of the slopes, come -shells, plowing the ground, hurling stones and -fragments. From above rattle the Nordenfeldts -and Maxims, spraying bullets into the -advancing ants as kerosene is sometimes -sprayed from a hose nozzle on the tribe of -real pests.</p> - -<p>It was to be expected. Not a man lives. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> -fire ceases. They all lie prone—some hid in the -shell holes, some lost in the gullies, some face -down bare on the open sand. Most of them lie -lengthwise, their heads upward, shot apparently -as they stumbled forward. On the second slope -in one place the legs and trunk of a man are -sprawled, armless, headless. An entire shell -must have met him halfway. Occasionally the -figures are huddled, piteously deprived of -action, sending upward the silent, unanswerable -appeal that death makes. But most of them -have that curious upward slant, bodies rigid, as -of determined men hugging the ground. Were -they bulleted straight? Anyway, it is a glorious -death—this of the infantry soldier storming Port -Arthur, lifted on the crest of the world’s fiercest -passion, puffed into vapor as the crest of a storm-tossed -wave! Painless, too. A touch and all -is over. But can they all be dead, all of those -figures slanted curiously upward? There must -have been remarkable sharpshooters above to -pick every man off, for shells are notoriously extravagant -of bravado and bluff.</p> - -<p>Ten minutes pass—fifteen—twenty—and only -the giant shells wheezing through the sky to distant,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> -unseen marks remind one that here is indeed -a battlefield.</p> - -<p>Then suddenly those figures with the curious -upward slant come to life. Another handful of -war corn is fed from the human hopper below. -The young officer waves his sword. The line-sergeant -stolidly climbs. The deploying lines -curl their microbe grip more firmly into the -slope. There was a hitch in the machine. Now -it moves, slow, inexorable.</p> - -<p>The piteously huddled figures remain. The -comrades go on, with never a look down, never -a look behind, half-stooped, rifle-butts dragging, -laboring with the terrific climb. Ten paces -from the fresh start, and that hail of bursting -steel meets them again. They struggle on, perhaps -a hundred feet, perhaps a hundred and -fifty, then commence dropping one by one, by the -dozen, fifteen at a time, two by two. They rest -again. Again the time drags. Again the fresh -start, with more piteously huddled figures. So -it goes, the hopper below supplying every loss.</p> - -<p>At length the young officer pauses. Just for -a moment he lingers and then digs his boots into -the crater that one of those friendly shells tore<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> -out for him an hour before. Without waiting -for his men, fifty yards beyond the nearest, he -leaps to the parapet, reels for an instant on the -skyline, then plunges out of sight. I never see -him again. What must have been his fate inside -there, alone, before his men came up? Was he -shot down as he entered? Did he keep the Russians -at bay till his supports came up? Dear, -foolish boy, did you think that, single-handed, -with that bit of toy steel, you could take Port -Arthur?</p> - -<p>It seems ages and ages before the line-sergeant -and his deploying figures leap to the skyline, reel -for an instant, and disappear. The grist from -the hopper below hastens and the rifle-butts -spring from ground to shoulders. It was the -first man who was needed. Now that the charm -is broken, they no longer skulk, but run eagerly -to the crater and tumble in. The hopper has -fed well-eared corn into the mill, and it has -come out ground meal. The grits lie scattered -all along the slope. Some move. The most lie -still, their battle with cold nights in exposed -trenches finished, sentry duty done. And in -many a thatched cot among the rice paddies<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> -across the sea the old hataman will tell to his -gray wife how their boy helped take Port -Arthur, and both will make a little journey to -the sacred mountain to assure the fathers they are -thankful to have bred brave stock.</p> - -<p>At a quarter-past one the young lieutenant -started on his mad errand, supported by the same -mechanism. At a quarter-past two the flag of -the Rising Sun floated from both north corners -of the P fort. At a quarter-past three the -stretcher-bearers are on the slope searching -among the huddled figures. They move swiftly -along, turning a figure over, giving it a quick -look and dropping it with business precision; -to another, dropping it; to another, pausing, out -with the lint, perhaps the hypodermic needle, -perhaps a sip from the tea flask, the arms of one -bearer hastily passing under the arms of the figure -of the other under the knees, dropping it on -the stretcher, passing in and out among the shell -holes, down the hill, while back on the slope the -carrion figures lie with the slant of the setting -sun struggling through the clouds to flash over -the bayonets beside them!</p> - -<p>Meanwhile, over the rest of the vast field, of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> -which the P fort was but a fragment, the assault -had been continuing. The Russian fire had not -abated. As soon as they saw the P fort was gone -they turned their shells into the redoubt itself, -and cut up our forces where they were seeking -cover in the very places their own shells had -previously destroyed. But the slopes of the -other three forts were kept just as hot as in the -beginning. The moment the thin line advanced, -that moment the hail commenced, and it ceased -only when the line ceased; nor did it entirely -cease then, for shrapnel was dropped above the -forms, those huddled and those lying curiously -straight.</p> - -<p>Suddenly, on the farther slope, where near -a battalion of men had crawled almost two-thirds -of the way up the glacis, a panic seemed -to have seized them. The whole crowd ran -down and to the right. They disappeared over -the scruff of the hill, toward their own trenches, -brushed off as a handful of flies might be blown -away from a heel of bread. The cowards! to -run like that when their comrades are valiantly -struggling up the nearer heights!</p> - -<p>But no. It is not a panic. Halfway to their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> -trenches they all drop into the ground. Shell -holes and gullies swallow them up. As they disappear -the scruff of the hill from which they -ran is blown into the air, the flame shooting from -the center of the rocks and dirt, and the white -smoke rising above. A mine has gone off there.</p> - -<p>The pioneer ahead found the contact signal—clever -fellow—ran back to the advance officer, -who led his men in their retreat. So it was not -a panic, but a well-ordered movement. Soon -the advance goes on, up the nearer angle of the -slope, the men deploying carefully as before, -the hell shooting down from above, the hopper -feeding from below. So I learn to criticise -nothing on a field of battle. Who but the commanding -officer can ever disclose motives? Not -a word of authentic news leaks from this place. -Once the citadel is down, say the generals, let -criticism rage. Port Arthur will have been -taken. Meanwhile, let us have silence, concentration, -determination!</p> - -<p>Then, under the middle parapet, I find a squad -of men hanging, having survived the ordeal -below. With no leader so headstrong as the -young officer, they halt for supports to go in and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> -capture the fort, for they are but twenty, or at -most thirty. No supports come. The shrapnel -plays over them, the bullets rain through.</p> - -<p>Into the crater torn on the parapet of the fort -opposite by one of our Osacca shells, and which -with an enfilading fire can command the squad, -there marches a company of Russian soldiers, -four abreast. The hole accommodates four at a -time, and they stand as if on parade, an officer to -the left rear, his sword drawn, giving the word -of command. Still farther in behind is another -officer, pistol in hand, holding the men to their -work. They order arms, prepare, aim, fire, -wheel to the left, defile, the next squad takes their -places, and again comes this drill in manual of -arms. A splendid sight; men in the crux of -action as if on parade; an object lesson for discipline -to the whole Russian army. The Japanese -need no such object lesson. Each man is -an individual, though he is part of the machine; -he has a brain to think, eyes to see, legs and arms -to act. Just below the firing squad, within -twenty yards, a company of our boys has crawled -up and is lying face down waiting for the word -to make the final charge. Hid by the angle of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> -the parapet, neither squad nor company sees the -other, and the Russians above fire directly over -the heads of the Japanese below into the assaulting -party on the opposite slope, distant some four -or five hundred yards. When the last four have -emptied their rifles, the crater becomes again -black with emptiness. Evening is falling. The -assaulting party creeps on up.</p> - -<p>Under the parapet of the north battery, where -the forsaken squad was left, I now see the why -of the inaction. The twenty or thirty, in half an -hour, have thrown up a shallow trench. So this -is the meaning of the spade that each man carries -at such cost, up those terrific heights. They -are fixing themselves for the night. Under -cover of darkness the supports will come up, and -before dawn the way from valley to parapet will -be entirely protected with trenches, so that a -whole regiment can be poured up for the final -assault without losing a man. As the price of it -on the slope there lie thousands of huddled -figures.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span></p> - - <div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="Chapter_Fifteen" id="Chapter_Fifteen"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">Chapter Fifteen</a><br /> -<span class="fs70 lsp0">JAPAN’S GRAND OLD MAN—AN INTERLUDE</span></h2> - </div> - -<div><img class="drop-cap" src="images/075.jpg" width="75" alt="" /></div> - -<p class="drop-cap">The Itos are the Smiths of Japan. -There is one President of the Privy -Council, one the chief naval authority -and head of the naval board. There -are two generals named Ito and statistics alone -know how many private soldiers are thus made -still more common. The Asahi to-day told of -an Ito hanged for a triple murder. In the adjoining -column account was made of another -Ito decorated by the Portuguese government. -The reason, not stated, was that the king of that -decrepit monarchy, wishing to assimilate some -stray rays of good fortune from this rising sun, -chose three men in Japan on whom to bestow -his ribbons of mark. These were the Emperor, -the Emperor’s son and an old man by the universal -name of Ito.</p> - -<p>A strange circumstance permitted me to ride -for an hour one morning in a railway coach -with this other Ito—the only Ito. Ambitious<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> -of that smartness which can save where any simpleton -can spend I procured a second-class ticket -from Yokohama to Tokyo, a run that covers -some twenty-eight miles in twice as many -minutes. The ticket cost fifty-three sen, and as -the rate of exchange for American gold here -now is 213 you will see that the ride cost less -than a quarter. I could have gone first class -for seventy-four sen, or ten more American -cents—hardly worth the saving. Still, it is more -interesting second class. Only foreigners, and -Japanese who ape foreigners, ride first class.</p> - -<p>Japanese railway coaches are of three classes. -It is not necessary to experience the third to -know it. A look is enough. Red, like the emperor’s, -they are the antithesis of imperial. Only in -an imperial land, dyed in the ancient belief that -certain men are by birth superior to other men, -could these third-class coaches exist. They are -for the common people. Small as the dummy -cars of an intramural railway they are boxed -off in sections similar to continental compartments. -These are loaded with as many of the -riffraff as the station guards can crowd in. -Hard seats and plain company with transportation<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> -at the mere cost of hauling is the rule there. -The fare is thirty sen (fifteen cents). The -government, which owns the railway, conducts -its business on the theory employed by -Japanese merchants—sell to the poor at cost -and let the rich pay the profits.</p> - -<p>The difference between the first and second -class is twofold. One is the color—white for -the first class, blue for the second. The accommodation -is just the same—leather and plush -upholstering of seats plenty large enough, with -washstand, toilet and drinking water handy and -clean midway of the car. The chief difference -is sociologic, tinged with political, economic and -moral degrees. First class is for the nobility, -second for the bourgeoisie. Though the first-class -carriage is lawfully open to anyone possessing -seventy-four sen, no second-class Jap -ever dares aspire to it. So secure are the officials -in the <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">morale</i> of the people that tickets are -never examined. You show your pasteboard at -the gate as you enter the platform at the beginning -of the journey, again as you leave the platform -at the end, but not on the train. A third-class -fare could easily ride in a first-class coach.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> -No one but a foreigner would ever think of this. -I tried it one day and succeeded, getting seventy-four -sen worth of nobility for thirty sen. It is -an axiom that all foreigners are noble; hence -all foreigners should travel first class. Some -day Japan will really be civilized.</p> - -<p>This morning the first-class coach was filled -with London tiles and Paris frocks, all silked -and diamonded. It was the day of the imperial -garden party and all foreigners of note in Yokohama -were on their way to the palace in Tokyo. -There was a crush of German, French and English. -I detected one pair Castilian in suavity -of accent. All were agog with gossipy gayety. -The men, sleek on Oriental dining as fresh pork -packers, plumped seats unusually commodious -quite full of broadclothed avoirdupois. The -women were agush with scents, mowed from the -four quarters. Feminine with suggested lingerie, -they left the men to the papers, for the -London mail was just in, and toasted some stale -diplomatic scandal whose drift I vainly strove -to get. Between silk tiles and be-birded bonnets -there was not a vacant seat left in the first-class -coach.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span></p> - -<p>I found a seat in the rear of the second-class -coach, which was but half filled. The occupants -were Japanese, evidently business and -professional men of note, perhaps fifteen all -told. Except for the complexions, the upward -slant of the eyes and the uniform small stature -they might have passed for the occupants of the -nine o’clock car downtown any American morning. -The dress was the same, the average of -intelligence the same. Before I began my paper -I studied each face. The Japanese countenance -is inscrutable. From coolie to Mikado exists -the same placid, patient, nearly always alert expression -of canny indifference. Before such -uniformity, such hidden power, purpose and -weird beginning toothed in the husk of time the -most expert western physiognomist is baffled. -The geography alone of these humanists of -hardy strife can be sketched. Of their history, -legends, poesy, knowledge and aspiration little -may be said at the outward glance.</p> - -<p>In the far corner sat a man whose personality -attracted with an unmistakable potency. Sensitive -to what psychologists call the aura, I instinctively -felt that he was a person of distinction,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> -a distinction genuine in that it must be -inherent, for nothing obvious indicated his difference -from the other Japanese. He wore a -frock coat which had seen use and a beaver hat, -apparently of English make, as it had a Piccadilly -smugness found nowhere else. None of his -countrymen in the car wore cuffs like his, which -were links. The others were old-fashioned in -plain roundness. His tie was ample and of -heavy silk, four-in-hand with a certain regality -of flourish. His shoes were wide, short, homely, -well-furnished. Only two items of his apparel -were unlike those of anyone else. One was the -pendant from his watchchain, a superb head of -polished onyx on which I could make out the -square and compass of the Masonic regalia. -The other was a button the size of an American -copper cent which he wore in his left lapel. It -looked like the button of the Legion of Honor. -Later I learned that it was the insignia of the -first-class order of the Rising Sun. Only twenty-two -men in the world have the right to wear -that. I also noticed that his left leg was slightly -bent. He appeared to be bow-legged.</p> - -<p>The unknown held a newspaper in front of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> -his face. When the train had been two minutes -out of Yokohama he put the paper down and -looked out upon the landscape. Then I recognized -the Marquis Ito, who was born a poor boy -of ordinary family in an imperial land, and who -is now known before the world as the father of -the New Japan.</p> - -<p>Some historian has written that the Nineteenth -Century produced four constructive -statesmen of the first rank; two—Bismarck and -Cavour—in the west, and two—Li Hung Chang -and Ito—in the east. Another puts him down as -the greatest of the four because he is the most -humble.</p> - -<p>Of Ito’s place in history it is not the purpose -here to speak. This is but the record of a chance -hour when I saw him this morning take a second-class -carriage to Tokyo that he might escape the -crowd of foreigners whom he doubtless felt -would annoy him with attention, when he -wishes to be undisturbed. He has one sure mark -of the prophets, that of being unhonored in his -own country. The people say that he is proud, -which is their interpretation of his aloofness, -and that he does things unbecoming a gentleman.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> -By this they mean his fondness for geisha, -which he makes no attempt to conceal, despising -public opinion and thus calling upon his head -that which he despises. He is the antithesis of -Disraeli, of whom Gladstone could say that he -was the only public man in England, unmarried, -who could live his maturity without being -mixed up with a petticoat. Ito makes no secret -of his feminine promiscuity.</p> - -<p>The Marquis can well afford to ignore public -opinion. With what monarch of what age -would he trade places? He has no position, no -titles and no responsibilities. Yet he is the most -powerful person in Japan. He is simply referred -to as the chief of the “genro,” or elder -statesmen. What a benign reference! He is -general utility man for the government, and -with that self-effacement which marks the Japanese -of whatever station he accepts his duties -with as unswerving a fidelity as the meanest -gunner at his post.</p> - -<p>When the Emperor wanted a delicate mission -to Korea executed he sent Ito with absolute -diplomatic power. Ito went, conducted -the business with entire success and returned<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> -home quietly. He has political enemies, of -course, but these in the great hour of need stand -aside and recognize his voice for what it is, the -guiding genius of the nation. Emperor, ministers -and generals come to him for final advice. -He is not bothered with the routine of an office -or the social duties of a position. He lives as -obscurely as I saw him this morning in the -second-class coach, yet on such significant occasions -as that presentation by the Portuguese -King he is the one man selected.</p> - -<p>Ito is now sixty-two years old. In this magnificent -prime of a great life he is at one of the -ideal positions of all time—the real dictator of -the glorious future of a coming people. What a -contrast to petty jealousies and inefficient systems -of western races, who have so ill disposed -of men of similar stamp! At the same age Bismarck -was hurling his thunders of wounded -pride from Friedrichsruhe at the young William. -Cavour, momentarily anxious, was tottering -in an insecure seat; Grant, honored by -the nations, had to submit to the humiliation of -a defeat at the hands of his own party; Gladstone, -hoary in public service, wavered between<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span> -the fires of an outraged public and an obtuse -monarch; Cleveland and Harrison, whose service -may be said to compare with that of the -Japanese, at the very moment when their experience, -their age and their disinterestedness would -be of most service to the state, are relegated, like -broken horses, to quiet pastures. Ito alone holds -his rightful power—unchecked, supreme at the -helm of state where alone the joy of the soul of -such a man can find a vent.</p> - -<p>His appearance! Of the cryptogram of that -typical Oriental countenance only stray ideographs -can be learned. Like them all it is inscrutable. -The skin, old and yellow with the -impenetrable age and the hoary toughness of -parchment, lay in sleek, well-grained folds -across a dome of brow. The eyes gazed out -with reserve, incisive, mild from a flat setting. -The iris—as what Japanese is not?—was -brown-black, the white yellow with the musty -haleness of yellow marble. The look was simple -and quiet. Yes. It was profound. Yet it -was alert.</p> - -<p>I realized that I was looking on that which -was older than the saber-toothed tiger or the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> -mausoleums of time, as old as the riddle of the -Sphinx. I was gazing upon the oldest thing in -the world—the spirit of progress.</p> - -<p>When the train reached the last station, Shinegawa, -eight minutes from Shimbashi, which is -to Tokyo what the Grand Central station is to -New York, there were but two vacant seats left -in the car, one beside the Marquis, one next -myself. Two Japanese entered. The first was -well dressed, foreign style, and, without looking, -plumped into the seat near the Marquis. I -was, apparently, the only one in the car who -had recognized the great man.</p> - -<p>The second newcomer was one of those queer -specimens of the hiatus from old to new which -may be seen in the streets of the large cities. He -wore the wooden Japanese geta and a half-caste -kimono, but on his head was a dinky derby hat -so low in the crown that the ticket he had stuck -in the band was as tall as the hat. He halted in -the door, abashed. Plainly he had taken the -wrong coach. He should have gone third class. -He was in a land where caste is everything and -he felt out of his element. His limp attitude -told his embarrassment and even his inscrutable<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> -face showed his pain. But the train had started -and he could not get out.</p> - -<p>Marquis Ito touched the man on the arm and -pointed out the seat at the farther end of the -car. The poor fellow was only more embarrassed. -He looked like a street tramp who might -have stepped into a Fifth Avenue prayer meeting. -At one shrewd glance the Marquis Ito -saw the situation. He rose from his seat, offered -it to the stranger with a simple gesture and himself -walked the length of the car to the vacant -place.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Know a nation’s great men and you know the -nation, says the spirit of biography. Marquis -Ito is to Japan what Count Tolstoi is to Russia, -with this difference: Ito is in power, Tolstoi all -but exiled. You may say that one is a statesman, -the other a writer, and that hence they are not -comparable. Yet, each stands before the world -as the most significant intellectual figure among -his people.</p> - -<p>There are other differences between the two. -Ito is silent, Tolstoi has a clarion voice; Ito is -omnipotent, Tolstoi powerless; Ito has no ostensible<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> -followers, Tolstoi counts his by the tens of -thousands. Again you will say this is the difference -not between men, but between statesman -and prophet. Granted. But a curious fact -lessens the force of that truth. Ito and Tolstoi -are working for the same ends. Both seek the -enfranchisement of men. The true difference -between them is this: Ito sinks his personality in -the cause he champions, satisfying Tolstoi’s own -definition of the great man as being one too -great to tell of his own goodness, while Tolstoi -stalks his stalwart way to the limelight and -focuses upon himself the attention of an age.</p> - -<p>Hundreds have written of Marquis Ito, and -the only reason for writing of him again is that -he may thus be seen in some new light. He is -not the only interesting man in Japan, nor the -only great one, but he is certainly a dominating -figure which fills the horizon with a mighty -presence. He is not popular. The papers make -only formal announcements of his movements. -He passes to and from his country residence and -the Imperial Palace without escort or demonstrations. -He has no official position, Katsura -being the prime minister, except the titular one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> -of President of the Privy Council, which carries -with it neither stated duties nor salary. He may -be easily approached and is seen by all who have -the desire. He is as free from pose as it is possible -for man to be. He doesn’t chop trees like -Gladstone or pet great danes like Bismarck or -walk in melancholy solitude like Disraeli. As -a picturesque personality he is disappointing. -He is more like Ben Harrison leaving the -White House to practice law in Indianapolis; -or, imagine Abraham Lincoln surviving the -war and settled quietly in a side street in Washington -and you will have Marquis Ito as he is -to-day. Only add to that the absolute confidence -of an all-powerful emperor and the support of -all politicians, even those of life-long enmity.</p> - -<p>Yet, in spite of seclusion, in spite of a simplicity -possible only to men of the very first -rank, Ito charms and holds attention. One finds -traces of him, hears accounts of him, feels his -pervading influence everywhere. When I told -of riding in the second-class coach with him -from Yokohama to Tokyo the day of the imperial -garden party, I did not tell of the talk I -had with him after he had given up his seat to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> -the abashed countryman and had taken one next -to mine. After a minute and when I saw that -he was not occupied I had the temerity to say:</p> - -<p>“Your Excellency, I am an American, and as -I see you are unoccupied would be glad if you -might say a few words that I could repeat to -my countrymen.” The never-to-be-forgotten -way in which he turned to me replying, “Certainly,” -was at once benign and shrewd. There -was something of the fatherly old priest about -him. Yet through his naïve simplicity there -shone a canny alertness such as critics say the -French landscapist, Corot, preserved in all his -idealist vagaries.</p> - -<p>The way in which the old statesman interviewed -me was masterly, yet as gracious and -lovable as any of the compelling things produced -by any of the artists of these forty million. -I had before then been sent on newspaper -embassies to famous interviewers of the west. -Of these J. Pierpont Morgan is of the roughest -squeeze, ripping the marrow from a scribe with -one smash of his lion paw. Elihu Root glances -through one like a rapier, gashing incisive questions -into the very pith of the attempt. But you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> -leave such knights of power and purpose dismayed -and disheartened. You have been baffled -and beaten, the door slammed in your face; you -have been caught up by a strong wind and flung -blindly to the ground. You need not cry. It is -only the wing of destiny clipping a wee mortal -as it hurls skyward in its flight.</p> - -<p>Not so with Ito. He is all gauzy silk over his -shimmering steel. I left him satisfied, enthusiastic -about his priceless simplicity, jubilant -over his grave dexterity, worshipful at his -fatherly equality. Surely, he was a great man -worthy of the name.</p> - -<p>What had he told me? Nothing.</p> - -<p>What had I told him? Everything.</p> - -<p>Do not laugh, thinking mine the joy of one -self-pleased at his own prattle. No. It was -sheer delight in the knowing of one who towers -above the greatest without conscious effort, and -who reaches to the lowest without condescension. -When I shook hands with him I felt that -I had known him all my life. When I saw him -into his carriage ten minutes later I felt that I -should call him brother through all the lives -that Buddha promises.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span></p> - -<p>How did he do it? By flattery? How vain! -By subtlety? How futile! There were a few -details of person to note—a slim flex of the -wrist as it dangled majestically across his lap, -the weatherly gray old look of battles fought -and conquered and of tempests braved and won; -then always that inscrutable squint of the brown-black -eyes with their yellow whites. For the -rest you must seek it in that alchemy which the -world, in spite of poets and prophets innumerable, -seems still to overlook.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>In the last quarter century the Marquis Ito -has made the same change in his attitude toward -the Japanese house of peers that Gladstone -made in his lifetime on the slavery question. In -the beginning he believed—or at least contended—that -it should hold but one allegiance—toward -the Emperor. Now he believes that it -should owe a duty to the people, as well. Count -Ogura, leader of the opposing political party, -has had the honor of bringing him around. -Ogura from the first has been a stanch democrat. -Ito has been neither imperialist nor democrat; -he has been both. Like every successful<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> -constructive statesman he has been an opportunist, -taking things as they existed and improving -them as he could. And he has had as phenomenal -a success as any man that ever lived. His -attitude on the peers question alone will illustrate -the manner of his policy. In the beginning -he feared to make too great a breach from the -old ways, not sure that either people or peers -would stand it. Slowly he released the old beliefs, -educating his countrymen, by other innovations, -to the new. Now when he finds that -neither peers nor populace will stampede at -so complete a revolution he forsakes that -consistency which is the weakness of little -minds.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Again to-day I came across Marquis Ito—his -mark. In this Japanese room made of a roof -on pegs, with walls of paper shutters, and its -floor ten blanketed mats, there are three decorations. -They belong to a hotel of the second -class. First is a spray of lordly wistaria, leaning -slender and dainty from a majolica vase. Next -is a bronze statue of a Chinese prophet, sword-habited -and tiara-coiffured. The third faces me,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> -leaning above the sliding paper doors. It is a -motto in Chinese characters, two yards long and -a yard wide. At the left end is a signature and -below the signature two seals, one an ochrish -yellow, the other vermilion. For days that -motto has stared at me its baffling puzzle. Were -it the conventional lettering of any language but -that of the East I would not be so much concerned. -But in the dreamy half light of evening -or in filmy moonbeams these ideographs -dance; they cry aloud; they gesticulate; they -demand utterance. Each stroke is masterly; -each separate character a picture—more a poem! -I am haunted by their blazing signals. Are they -of appeal, or of warning, or of blessing? I try to -study them out and fancy I can make a tortoise of -the first. The last is a straight dash, the exclaimer -of a prodigious font of type, clasped by two -crossbeams. Perhaps this ideograph shows a -man embraced by welcome arms—appropriate -for a bedroom. At last my curiosity bubbles -over and I drag Kato in to translate.</p> - -<p>“It is very difficult to explain the meaning,” -he says. “It is simple to a Japanese, but impossible -to a foreigner. The first character is a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> -tortoise, which to us is the symbol of wisdom -and eternity. The next means to pray. The last -shows pilgrims climbing the sacred mountain, -Fujiyama. That straight dash with the -cross-beams is the crater with clouds floating -about it.”</p> - -<p>“The motto thus means, ‘Pray that you may -be as a tortoise on the sacred mountain.’”</p> - -<p>“Yes. It means to wish eternal wisdom and -happiness to the dweller in this room.”</p> - -<p>“And the signature?”</p> - -<p>Kato looks again. “Hiburimo Ito,” he spells. -“The Marquis Ito.”</p> - -<p>“The Marquis Ito,” I cry.</p> - -<p>“There is only one,” says he.</p> - -<p>“The motto was given by him to the master -of this house. See! the yellow and red seals are -his. He did the work himself. This is the mark -of his brush.”</p> - -<p>“Is he a friend of the master?”</p> - -<p>“No. But the master has a friend who came -from the same province, Tosa, in the south. It -is called the Statesman Province, for Ogura and -Komura also came from there, while Satsuma in -the west, from which Yamagata, Oyama and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> -Hirose came, is called the Warrior’s Province. -This friend went to school with the Marquis -Ito when they were both poor and now that the -Marquis is rich and powerful his friend asked -him for some motto of good fortune. And he -was given this. It is a custom.”</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The Marquis Ito says but little. Of whatever -subjects he speaks he illumines, and he never -hesitates to break into a conversation if it interests -him. Some time ago he rivaled that unknown -New Yorker who achieved fame for a -single toast of nine words:</p> - -<p>“The new woman, once our superior, now our -equal.”</p> - -<p>It was at a reception and the Marquis interrupted -a discussion of the difference between -American and Japanese women to say to an -American: “When I marry I take on a head -servant; when you marry you become one.”</p> - -<p>It was only last week at a banquet that Mrs. -Wood, wife of the United States Military -Attaché at the legation here, was asking Baron -Komura, Minister of Foreign Affairs, if it was -true that the Japanese government had made an<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> -appropriation to buy back the heirlooms -which needy Japanese of good family had sold -abroad.</p> - -<p>“No,” said Komura, “we are too poor. What -is gone is gone. It may be that some private -parties are buying them up, but not the government. -I have heard that even some of the temple -relics, their most prized bronzes and -lacquers, have gone. The people forsake the -old gods, the priest gets poor, the curio man -comes with gold and away go the musty monuments -of centuries.”</p> - -<p>At this moment, with an almost sinister frown -the Marquis Ito interrupted. “What’s that?” -he called. The conversation was repeated. The -inscrutable eyes closed, then he opened them -with a squint and said to Mrs. Wood:</p> - -<p>“America can have all the relics Japan has—her -bronzes, gilts, ivories, lacquers, silks, her -temples, everything but the land and the people—for -gold. We want American gold.”</p> - -<p>“Couldn’t America buy Japan?” asked Mrs. -Wood, playfully.</p> - -<p>The old man mused a while. Finally he -said:</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span></p> - -<p>“I have no doubt that America has the enterprise -to build a ship large enough to float our -island to the Golden Gate and anchor it there, -but if you do that I bid America beware that we -do not annex her!”</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span></p> - - <div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="Chapter_Sixteen" id="Chapter_Sixteen"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">Chapter Sixteen</a><br /> -<span class="fs70 lsp0">THE COST OF TAKING PORT ARTHUR</span></h2> - </div> - -<div><img class="drop-cap" src="images/302.jpg" width="75" alt="" /></div> - -<p class="drop-cap">Port Arthur stood formidable -and haughty on the night of February -8th, when Togo first saluted it -with his turret six-inchers. That -salute of the shell was lengthy and costly. For -ten months it kept up from nearly seven hundred -guns, approximately two hundred and forty in -the navy and three hundred and fifty in the army. -Each gun fired its weight in metal twenty times -over. About two thousand tons of bursting shell -went into that proud and mighty citadel, cordoned -with its cunningly hung and ingeniously -intrenched forts. Each firing cost an average of -twenty-four gold dollars. Thus the moneyed -treasure hurled against the fortress exceeded -thirty millions. And men—but of the human -later.</p> - -<p>What bait lured and what force repelled that -money and blood? To comprehend we must<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> -review briefly Port Arthur, its fortification, and -its siege. Nature there was the greatest ally -the Russians ever had. Topographically, Port -Arthur was fitted with a defense that taught -tricks to the most skillful engineers. Two -ranges of hills, almost concentric, surrounded -the harbor. The crests of these were broken by -a series of successive conical elevations. Here -was a suggestion that the mightiest engineer—an -Archimedes or a Michelangelo—would -have seized. The Italians who helped the Russians -in laying out their defenses, taking these -concentric ranges for the primary grand scheme, -ran completely about the city two concentric -lines of fortifications. Massive masonry forts -were built on the shoulders of the high summits, -and were connected by continuous defensive -works. Hugging the city close, distant from -one thousand yards to a mile and a half, lay the -inner line of permanent defense, whose backbone -was an old Chinese wall, broadened, deepened, -and loopholed. Beyond, and filling the -interstices between these forts, were semi-permanent -works. The forts were so related to each -other that they gave mutual support. Each one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> -was dominated by fire from neighboring -heights, and it often happened that the Japanese -seized positions, which, though untenable for -the Russians, they were unable to hold themselves. -The slopes of the hills were steep. -Also, they were smooth and free from cover. -To rush the works charges had to be made over -a broad glacis, swept by the shrapnel, machine -gun, and rifle fire of the defenders. Should -the assault survive the scientific deathtraps of -this danger zone, the valiant few were confronted -by massive masonry parapets, through -which they could not force an entrance.</p> - -<p>This wonderful network of fortifications, -strong by nature, strong by virtue of the skill -and care with which it had been built, was distinguished -from all previous defensive works by -the fact that here for the first time were used all -those terrible agencies of war which science in -the last century has rendered available. There -were steel shields to protect skirmishers, -machine guns, smokeless powder, artillery of -high velocity and great range, high explosive -shells, the magazine rifle, the telescopic sight, -giving marvelous accuracy of fire; the range-finder,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> -giving instantaneously the exact distance -of the enemy; the searchlight, the telegraph and -the telephone, starlight bombs, barbed-wire entanglements, -and a dozen other diabolic inventions, -the sum of which, allied to this stupendous -fortification of nature by man, enabled the military -authorities of the world to pronounce upon -Port Arthur that superlative word, impregnable.</p> - -<p>Reducing the scale of this fortress, we might -see in miniature its intricate construction if we -looked upon the hair-clippers of a barber. The -forts were the teeth, the murderous scientific -apparatus the death blades of this monstrous -clipper. For five months they shaved clean -everything that approached them.</p> - -<p>At the beginning of the operations, in the War -Office at Tokyo, the plan of campaign against -Port Arthur was laid out as all Japanese campaigns -are laid out—by the General Staff. With -a passion for detail and a mania for precision, -the fortress was plotted and the operations -against it mathematically separated into stages. -Now that Port Arthur calls on history for an -answer, the exact nature of this plan, and how<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> -rigidly it was adhered to, may be for the first -time disclosed.</p> - -<p>There were to be four stages in the reduction -of the fortress. The work was divided into -stages, because the Japanese are so practical that -they must plainly see on paper what they project. -They live by system. They have reduced accomplishment -to a problem of economics. -They believe that the most successful man is he -who makes the closest analysis. It was fore-ordained -that they would be successful, for they -analyzed Port Arthur.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/i307.jpg" width="650" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p>The first of the four stages laid out comprehended -the capture of the Chinese wall, -which is the main line of permanent Russian -land defense on the east, and its protection of -twelve forts; three permanent, four semi-permanent, -and three redoubts. The second stage -comprehended the taking of Etzeshan and Anzushan -(the Table and Chair forts), which are -considered the keys to the west defenses, with -the lunettes, batteries, and redoubts which formed -their out and in works. The third stage comprehended -the capture of the town of Port -Arthur, and the great sea forts located on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a><br /><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> -Tiger’s Tail and Golden Hill. The fourth and -final stage, in which it was expected that the desperation -of defense would mount to the height -of a fierce guerrilla warfare, comprehended the -taking of the tip of the peninsula, called Liaotishan.</p> - -<p>The first stage was the most vital military -move, for once accomplished it meant the -crumbling of the Russian line, though the defense -might linger after that for months.</p> - -<p>The second stage was politically the great -essential, for not until it was well accomplished -could the world be told that Port Arthur had -fallen. Through this Chair fort the town was -taken ten years ago, but now it rises so formidably -that the Japanese have not even dared to -attack it. It looks like the crater of an extinct -volcano, bulwarked with loose sand at a seventy-five -degree angle, so that on assault men sink to -their knees and lie inert under merciless fire. -“203” was but a semi-permanent outwork of -this Chair fort, which dominated it.</p> - -<p>Such was the project. Execution needed only -Stoessel and his defenders to make the plan of -the Tokyo War Office precise. They failed on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> -the defense of the last three stages, so that -when the Japanese accomplished the first stage, -Port Arthur fell. Nogi’s original intention was -to pierce the Russian right center through the -line of forts from Keekwanshan and Ehrlungshan, -while he demonstrated on the left, where -lie “203” and Etzeshan. He pursued this plan -to the end and was consistent through a bitter, -costly half-year. He planned to enter Port -Arthur, through Keekwanshan and Ehrlungshan, -on August 21st. He entered Port Arthur -through Keekwanshan and Ehrlungshan, January -2d—four months and a half late—but he -got there, as he originally planned.</p> - -<p>It was predicted that if the Russian line could -be broken at any one point, the fortress would -fall. No one but the mathematical heads in the -War Office took stock in the idea of the four -grand stages. But Nogi and his generals held -to the plan by foreseeing beyond the actual defense, -by checkmating it at every point that -might possibly have bearing upon these various -stages, and as a chess player surveys every possibility -of defeat, counting on consummate -ability in the opponent. Then they finally<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> -got what they were after, even before they -expected it.</p> - -<p>Had Nogi met what his foresight led him to -expect—a consistently determined defense—his -capture of Ehrlungshan and Keekwanshan in -the last days of December would have left him -only with one-quarter of his work finished. But -as a general giving full credit to his adversary, -he could not count on the Russian failure in the -two vital respects which spelled the final surrender. -These two vital things were ammunition -and <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">morale</i>. If the Russians had had plenty of -ammunition and had been pervaded, rank and -file, with Stoessel spirit, they would have fought -on while they held Anzushan and Etzeshan, and -all of that great chain of forts from Golden -Hill through to Liaotishan.</p> - -<p>The siege of Port Arthur presents many -phases—military, political, ethnical, scientific, -spectacular, and dramatic—in short, all the -great vital phases of human life. About the -siege of Sebastopol the libraries hold thirty volumes—about -Plevna twenty. Port Arthur surpasses -both. Politically, vaster interests were -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span>at stake. In a military sense the operations -were more extensive; so we cannot hope to -cover the ground delved into by hundreds of -writers about former sieges.</p> - -<p>We can but pick the grand salient features -that seared themselves into the memory of the -few who lived through it. Of these the chief -is the proof that human tenacity and valor are as -great to-day as at any time in the world’s history. -The great guns at Port Arthur were marvelous. -They impressed one with that power seen in a -jungle of elephants, yet they were sensitive and -delicate as a little girl. The battling under -searchlights was as grand a spectacle as the -imagination can devise. The ingenuity and -precision of the movements outlined by generals -bred in all the duplicity and culture of the -schools, and reared through every vicissitude of -camp and march, were astounding. The ingenious, -quiet deviltry of the engineer puzzled -the brain. But all would have been useless -without the private soldier. The boy in khaki—he -did the trick.</p> - -<p>And after all the story of Port Arthur has -been thrashed out, its questions settled, that soldier -of Nippon, with a calm, plain face, stamped<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> -with the soil, rises supreme, saluting his equally -glorified yokel brother from the Trans-Baikal.</p> - -<p>Shells make a lot of noise and led the hotel -correspondents many miles away to see blood on -the face of the moon, but at Port Arthur their -damage was out of all proportion to their cost. -Only one out of four hundred of the Russian -shells was effective in the Japanese camp. It is -not likely that more than twice that ratio—namely, -one out of two hundred—would cover -the proper statistics of Japanese effectiveness. -Of course, the Japanese had the great advantage -of a plain target.</p> - -<p>Bullets did the harm. There were about -forty million discharged during the five months -of the siege, and forty million bits of steel flying -with cutting velocity are bound to hit some -hearts in Japan and other hearts in Russia. The -weight of the total number of men killed at Port -Arthur on both sides, if compared with the -weight of the steel sent from the large and small -guns of both armies, will show that the death of -every soldier cost his weight in metal.</p> - -<p>But the deaths were not frightful. It was -life that was frightful. In the contested redoubt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> -of the Eternal Dragon, where the Japanese -drove the tip of their wedge into the Russian -right center in mid-August, and which they held -against numberless sorties for three months, the -Japanese soldiers lived in conditions that would -be impossible to men of any other race. The -enemy was within forty yards of them on three -sides. Their way back to their base of supplies -was across half a mile of valley, every yard of -which was swept by the enemy’s fire. Few -prisoners were taken on either side. Through -the four chief months of the siege only seventy-one -Russians were captured, and the number of -Japanese found alive in Port Arthur at the time -of its surrender was less than one hundred.</p> - -<p>There are a few instances on record of -mutual devotion between the enemies, which is -vastly heightened by the other frightful record -of mutual unswerving hatred. One day a Russian -sergeant appeared in front of a Japanese -trench, bearing over his shoulder a wounded -Japanese lieutenant, whom he had picked up -with a shattered leg under the parapet of one of -his own forts. This sergeant had been on the -point of thrusting his bayonet through the brain<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> -of the Japanese lieutenant, when the other man -moved, moaned, opened his eyes, and from his -pocket took a bit of biscuit, offering it to the -other. The Russian dropped his bayonet, -bound the shattered leg, hoisted the Japanese to -his shoulders, and walked by moonlight that -night to the opposing trenches.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span></p> - - <div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="Chapter_Seventeen" id="Chapter_Seventeen"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">Chapter Seventeen</a><br /> -<span class="fs70 lsp0">A CONTEMPORARY EPIC</span></h2> - </div> - -<div><img class="drop-cap" src="images/075.jpg" width="75" alt="" /></div> - -<p class="drop-cap">That Port Arthur would fall on the -21st of August was believed by every -man in the Japanese army; the island -nation was sure of it; the world -thought it certain. And the Japanese did -try. They lacked neither the bravery, nor the -numbers, nor the skill. They failed because -Nature stood in their way. Nature built the -mountains, and without the mountains the Russians -could not have defended Port Arthur as -they did. The forts were so arranged that each -was commanded by two or three others, and -some by ten or twelve. One taken, the others immediately -concentrated fire there and made it -untenable. One thing only could be done—take -all the forts simultaneously. Since there were -seventeen permanent, forty-two semi-permanent, -and eighteen improvised fortifications, two miles -of fortified Chinese wall, and a triple line of -trenches eight and a half miles long, defended -by a stubborn foe, this was impossible.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span></p> - -<p>“Impossible?” That is an English word. -The Japanese do not understand it. “You are -expected to do the impossible things,” read the -first imperial order their troops received. They -have done impossible things. So have the Russians -done impossible things. The ordeal has -raised the story of the siege of Port Arthur into -an epic. Without the perspective of Troy, it -has some of Troy’s grandeur. The glory, to us, -is that we have touched shoulders with an age -that has produced men as willing as any ever -have been to fight nobly and die heroically.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/i317a.jpg" width="550" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> - -HOME<br /> - -The Shack occupied for three months (800 yards -from the firing line) by General Oshima, -Commander of the Ninth Division.</div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/i317b.jpg" width="548" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> - -PLUNDER<br /> - -Adjutant Hori, Secretary to General Oshima -shown standing amid a quantity of plunder -from one of the captured Forts.</div> -</div> - -<p>Skill and bravery had their value, of course, -but to take Port Arthur a man was needed—a -man like Grant, who could fight it out on one -line all summer and all winter. This man was -Nogi; with a face parchment-crinkled, brown -like chocolate, with beard gray, shaded back to -brown where it met the skin, so that he seemed -a monotone in sepia, with eyes small and wide -apart, perfect teeth, tiny, regular nose, and a -beautiful dome of a head flaring out from the -temples in tender and eloquent curves. He -stands five feet ten, unusually tall for a Japanese, -showing the loose power of a master in his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> -joints and in that mighty jowl shaded by the -gray-brown beard. He has had to weather -fierce storms of public indignation in Japan for -two reasons—because he did not take Port Arthur -as scheduled; and because he sacrificed so -many lives. Turn over the pages of our history -and read the story of Grant’s campaign from the -Wilderness, through Cold Harbor and Spottsylvania, -to Petersburg and Richmond, and you -will read the story of Nogi’s campaign against -Port Arthur. In northern Virginia the mighty -battle-ax cut down the keen Damascene sword. -On the Liaotung Thor’s hammer smashed the -straying fasces of an overripe empire. The -North cried out that the man who felt himself -an agent of Destiny in conquering northern Virginia -was a butcher; just so Japan cried -“butcher” against the iron man who reduced -Port Arthur.</p> - -<p>In 1894 Nogi saw the Chinese besieged and -Port Arthur taken by a feint. He saw the big -Japanese demonstration then made against the -front while the bulk of the army slipped along -the coast to the west and south, enveloping the -enemy’s left wing and driving the silly Chinese<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[292]</a></span> -into a net where they were caught fast under -the great forts, which speedily fell. Again, apparently, -the same strategy was about to be -repeated. But instead of making the real attack -in the rear of the Russian left flank, Nogi -made only a demonstration there, where “203” -is on the west, and drove his straight, hard blow -into the eastern line of permanent land defense. -To pierce the Russian right center, enfilade its -left flank, and stand Port Arthur on end—this -was the plan. Gloriously it was attempted, -gloriously it failed. Regiment after regiment -went in, regiment after regiment went down. -Corpses lay eight deep in the creek which ran -red to the sea.</p> - -<p>This grand assault—the first—began August -19th. For seven days and nights without cessation -the battle raged, in the vain endeavor to -pierce that right center. It is said that the Japanese -are all heroes—that none are cowards. -Some are also sensible. There was the Eighth -Regiment, which, when ordered in to the assault -where the regiment before it had been swept -down, sent back through its commanding officer -the word that the way was impossible. This<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> -word was so new to the Brigade-General that he -ordered the regiment to the rear for fatigue -duty, the worst punishment that can come to -Japanese soldiers in an army where there are no -guard-houses. Another regiment, the immortal -Ninth, was ordered to cross the field to the foot -of the slope on which lay, dead and dying, many -of the men of the regiment which had gone before. -The Colonel, Takagagi, surveying the -task set for his regiment, sent back a report that -it was not feasible. The Brigade-General Ichinobe -replied hotly that one regiment was -enough to take one battery. Takagagi stepped -out of the ravine, in which he had been seeking -shelter, at the head of his command. Before, he -had been marching, as colonels usually do, in -the rear, while his line officers led the advance. -Now, he leaped forward up the slope, out in -front of his men. A dozen paces from the ravine -he fell with four bullets through his breast. The -Lieutenant-Colonel took up the lead and was -shot a few yards farther on. The majors were -wiped out. Every captain but one went down. -The last Captain, Nashimoto, in charge of D -Company, found himself, at length, under the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> -Chinese Wall with seventeen men. Looking -down upon the shell-swept plain, protected for -the moment from the sharpshooters above, with -that handful of heroes, a mile and a half in advance -of the main body of the Japanese army, -he grew giddy with the success of his attempt. -Of a sudden he concluded that he could take -Port Arthur with his seventeen men. He started -in to do it. There was only the wall ahead—the -wall and a few machine-guns—beyond, the city -itself—a five minutes’ run would have brought -him to the citadel. He scaled the wall and fell -across it—his back bullet-broken. Eight of his -men got over, scaling the height beyond, called -Wangtai or the Watch Tower, a place to which -the Russian generals formerly rode on horseback -to survey the battlefield. On this slope, for -three months, in full sight of both armies, the -eight lay rotting. The Russians referred to them -as “The Japanese Garrison.”</p> - -<p>This was the high tide of the advance made -in August. Nogi paid a frightful price to learn -his terrible lesson—that he could not so quickly -wipe out a foe thus allied with Nature. The lesson -cost him twenty-five thousand men. After<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[295]</a></span> -the first ghastly assault he sat down with his -army and went sensibly and slowly at the enormous -task. Instead of storming Port Arthur -with his army, he and Kodama saw that he must -dig into it. Realizing that Nogi was sure to -pass into the fortress through the earth where -he had failed to enter above ground, Kodama -might well have chuckled as he said that he held -the besieged city in the hollow of his hand.</p> - -<p>Yet both Kodama and Nogi thoroughly realized -what they had to face. The permanent -forts of the Russians were built on the advantageous -shoulders that projected two-thirds of -the way down the slopes. The mountains, fortunately -for the Russians, were so situated that, -though irregular in detail, yet their line formed -a complete semicircle enveloping the city. Making -use of these natural advantages, they were -able to build a grand fortress with seventeen -locks, for every one of which they held the key. -The Japanese might spring one of the locks, but -the fortress could be instantly closed with any -or all of the other sixteen. Each depression between -the main shoulders of the mountains was -used for the emplacement of a battery. Batteries<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> -and forts were connected with barbed-wire -entrenchments, and the glaces were made -sheer and slippery. Some were formed of concrete, -some were built crater-like of a sliding -sand, so that a man advancing found himself -slipping to the knees and quagmired. Around -the great forts moats of unknown depth and -width were built. In these moats caponieres -were placed to enfilade daring assaulters. Some -of the barbed wire was electrically charged, so -that men attempting to cut it with nippers were -electrocuted. Down the forward slopes of the -mountains mines were sunk in the earth; some -were exploded by contact with an electric button -on the surface, others by direct contact from -some tripping man as he passed over the spot. -Around two of the forts torpedoes taken from the -ships were buried, and their finlike stems were -turned into contact flanges projecting from the -earth. All these defenses were connected with a -network of covered ways; in two places deep -tunnels ran from fort to fort, and from all of the -principal forts back to the Chinese Wall was a -deep tunnel. Behind the wall lay machine -guns, the most deadly weapons in modern<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[297]</a></span> -warfare, sprinkling bullets as a hose sprinkles -water.</p> - -<p>The very names of these forts characterized -the forms of the granite of which they were built -and out of which they rose. The Eternal Dragon, -the Two Dragons, the Chair, the Table, -the Lion’s Mane, and that flippant old rooster, -who is the grimmest and sauciest of them all, -the Cock’s Comb, stood out defiant in Chinese -hoariness.</p> - -<p>To get across the plain, up the slopes, and -into those forts by digging trenches and tunnels -was the problem, and the Japanese were -able to solve it. In those two months one hundred -men at a time did the job, for only that -number could work at once in the tunnels. Often -shells found them out; rifle-fire harassed them -every hour. The loss was many companies, but -they never lacked the one hundred to do the -work, always by night, always silently; crawling -through the night, pick and shovel in hand, -came that antlike hundred, the individuals constantly -varying, as figures in a kaleidoscope -where death is at the handle, but never quitting -its terrible task.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span></p> - -<p>In darkness a company begins its labor in -unison. Guided by clever engineers, the picks -advance through the blackness; the shovelers -smartly after. The Russian searchlight swings -menacingly to play upon the little group. A -shell hurtles in. A dozen men fall, some never -to rise again. Up with the first aid, down with -the stretchers, to the rear with the victims. Advance -another squad—on goes the hundred. So -for two months—and then through the finished -trenches the rest of the army walked impudently -in the broad sun, laughing at those useless bullets -singing so saucily overhead.</p> - -<p>The plain lay overripe with harvests, but not -a living thing was on its surface. The autumn -sun hung indolent and golden. Blackened villages -were deserted. Among the chain of forts, -bristling with cannon, there lay one with its -nearest side completely honeycombed. All the -other forts were silent and bare on their near -sides. That honeycomb was made by the gridironing -of Japanese trenches. Between it and -the line of mountains, parallel to the Russians -on the north, the ground was ridged with -mounds of fresh earth, as if some gigantic mole<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span> -had zigzagged across the plain. From neither -army was there the slightest evidence of life, -except that between the two lay that telltale -fresh earth, as though a huge animal had been -busy in the night. Yet, behind the northern parallel -range, the distance of a rifle-shot from the -Russians in Port Arthur, ominously silent, monstrously -at work in preparation, was the Japanese -army—siege-mortars cocking their twenty -tons of steel on solid masonry as a Mauser pistol -cocks on a man’s fist; monster naval guns, rakish -devils, buried in the earth, with frightful noses -menacing the blue; howitzers perched on peaks; -lines of transport laden with rice and biscuit; -hospitals brilliant as the sunlight and quiet as -its stillness; regiments of men receiving instructions—how -to escape beri-beri, how to keep -nightdews from the rifle-barrels, how to bind a -fractured leg, how to scupper an adversary in a -hand-to-hand fight—but on the field of battle, -on the opposite sides of which the opposing -hosts were held like hounds in leash, there was -nothing human—only silence, beauty, sublimity.</p> - -<p>From September 19th to the 25th occurred<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span> -what is known as the second assault, although -it might more properly be described as a reconnaissance -in force. As an assault it failed. Then -on the last day in October the war-demon awoke -again to his full ferocity. Where the twenty-five -thousand had been lost in August, a division -could now be poured right up to the parapets -of the Russian forts without losing a man. -Coast-defense guns had been brought from -Japan to battle against the Russia coast-defense -guns, which had been turned landward. The -Japanese had hauled their guns by hand, eight -hundred men to a gun, through mud, up the -mountains, in the dark, under fire, and had -placed them in silence on solid concrete foundations. -But after they had crossed the valley the -Japanese still had a frightful obstacle to face. -There was but one way to get to the forts—up -the slopes. Every inch of these was commanded -by guns trained carefully through three months -of actual use against a real foe and through four -previous years against an imaginary one. The -Russians lay confident and calm above their -terrible fortress. They did not have to bluster -with bombardments. They knew their strength.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> -They merely waited until the Japanese advance -reached a certain spot on the slopes. It -was not a question of aiming the guns, as it is -where troops are constantly fighting over fresh -ground. All that was necessary was to pull the -triggers. There was about the proceeding little -of the sport of war. The order to advance was -as certainly fatal as the hangman’s signal in an -execution-chamber, and when the Japanese did -advance the few who survived the murderous -fire found behind those superb entrenchments -men just as brave, just as cunning, just as strong -as they themselves. If it is ever asked which is -the braver, Japanese or Russian, no answer can -be given. No one nation distinguished itself at -Port Arthur. The glory belongs to both.</p> - -<p>It was in the third grand assault, when the -final operations commenced, that General Ichinobe, -the commanding officer who had ordered -the sacrifice of Takagagi and his immortal -Ninth Regiment and who had summarily sent -the sulking regiment to the rear, became the -Japanese Marshal Ney. Two battalions under -his command succeeded in entering the P redoubt, -an outwork of the great Cock’s Comb<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span> -fortification. Ichinobe left his battalions after -midnight, secure in the conviction that his work -had been successful. Toward three o’clock in -the morning he was roused by an orderly, who -reported that the men had been driven from the -P redoubt. Ichinobe was then half a mile as -the crow flies, nearly one and a half miles as the -trenches lay across the valley, from the slope of -the redoubt. Leaping from his couch, he called -about him his staff-officers, issued hurried orders -to the reserves, and, at the head of his immediate -followers, ran through the zigzag -trenches. Reaching the foremost line, now under -the fire of Russian machine-guns, he found -his men not demolished, but surprised, outnumbered, -and being driven sullenly back. Drawing -his saber, Ichinobe thrust the ranks aside, -passed through, and charged up the slope, leading -his heroes for the second time into the contested -fort. With his own hand he killed three -Russians. When dawn came his brigade occupied -the P redoubt. His immediate commander, -General Oshima, had an account of -the exploit telegraphed to the Emperor at -Tokyo. That afternoon an Imperial order<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[303]</a></span> -reached the army, <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'chistening the fort'">christening the fort</ins> “Ichinobe.”</p> - -<p>In the assault of August 19th to 26th, the few -men who reached the parapets had received in -their faces storms of what the Chinese call -“stinkpots”; that is, balls of fresh dung. This -assault wholly failed. The dead were left to -rot, and the wounded were shot as they lay, the -stench of the corpses being used as a weapon of -offense against the Japanese, who were trying -to maintain the advantage they had gained at -the foot of the slope. The demonstration of -September 19th, which also failed, was met -with hand-grenades of guncotton. In the third -assault on October 29th, halfway up the Cock’s -Comb, the advance stumbled over a mine, and -the entire lower shoulder of the mountain was -blown into the air, taking with it some twenty-five -men, heads awry, legs and arms twisted, -trunks shattered. Nevertheless, new volunteers -advanced through the crater thus formed, -up the glacis of the redoubt, until they reached -a new and dangerous obstruction. This was a -moat so cunningly concealed under the very -edge of the parapets that an observer below<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> -could gain no hint of its existence even with the -most powerful field-glasses. The ditch was so -deep that once in, a man could not get out even -by climbing over another man’s shoulders. To -fall in was certain death, for in every turn of the -concealed moat was a masonry projection called -by the cunning men who devise such traps, a -caponiere. These caponieres were built of -stone and covered with earth. They were tiny -forts, concealing and protecting four or five -Russian riflemen and a machine-gun. Consequently, -under perfect protection and with their -foe in limited area, trapped like woodchucks -in a hole, unable to escape, the Russians merely -had to deal out whistling steel at their leisure. -The Japanese did not falter. The first men who -leaped into that moat knew that they were leaping -to certain death, but they knew, too, that the -men in the caponieres could be overwhelmed by -the force of the numbers to come after. The -two caponieres were captured at once.</p> - -<p>Under the parapets of this fort, dominated by -all the artillery of the two armies, occurred -some of the grimmest fighting that history records. -It was at midnight of the second day of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> -final occupation. The black mountains lay behind, -the black forts in front, the blacker plain -below. A Japanese lieutenant, Oda, asked for a -volunteer <em>Keissheitai</em>, or certain-death party. -Thirty <em>Keissheitai</em> men came forward. Oda put -himself at their head and ventured along the -bed of the moat toward the rearmost caponiere, -with the idea of capturing it. The fort is very -long—about one and a half times the length of -an ocean liner—so he found room and time for -adventure. There was no moon, and the moat -was too close to the Russians for them to depress -their searchlights sufficiently to illuminate -it. In the blackness, halfway down the moat, -Oda and his men met a Russian lieutenant -prowling with a squad of men behind him, bent -on the recapture of the two caponieres which -the Japanese had seized. They had it out, not -with bullets, but bayonet to bayonet, fist to fist, -and even teeth and nails. Oda and the Russian, -in locked embrace, reeled back and forth, falling, -rising, scratching, first one on top and then -the other, each losing sight and control of his -men, all of whom were engaged in individual -combats just as savage.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span></p> - -<p>The two leaders, grappling for an opportunity -that each sought, bumping against the walls -of the narrow moat, reached, without knowing -it, an embrasure which led to the rear of the -fort and into the gorge. Tripping over this, -not knowing where they were going, the two -plunged headlong down the slope. Above -frowned two Russian batteries. Beyond rose the -great red-capped sky line of the Cock’s Comb. -A hundred yards, scratched by the stones, -smashed by the shale, they slipped and writhed, -until they struck a tiny plateau halfway down -the mountain. Here the two, clinched, stopped -as might a dislodged stone toppling from its -socket. In the struggle Oda had been able to -get his right arm free, which he reached over -across his enemy’s back, grasping the hilt of his -straight, samurai sword. Pulling it halfway -out of the scabbard, which was tightly lashed to -his waist, he sawed and pulled until the slender, -tapering steel had gashed through the Russian’s -clothing, full to his backbone.</p> - -<p>Late the following night, after the sun had -gone, Oda crawled into his own trenches at the -base of the mountain. His men had been repulsed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> -by a second party of Russians who had -made a sortie to relieve the first. But, still the -Japanese held the two caponieres in front and -the Russians the two in the rear. Oda got no -medals nor applause. Two days later a breast-wound -which sent him to a hospital in Japan -saved his life, for had he stayed he would have -certainly gotten himself killed.</p> - -<p>The Japanese during the first two nights hastily -dug out approaches and had a partially covered -way from the base of the mountain to the -moat. This gave them their vital hold on the -north battery of the Cock’s Comb. So resolute -were the Russians in holding every inch of -ground that it was a full month and a half after -that before the Japanese could take the complete -fortification. And when the complete fortification -was taken it availed but little, for it -was but one of three great batteries which -formed the series known as East Keekwan, -which was itself but a portion of the eastern line -of permanent defenses.</p> - -<p>To see how the rest of the great Northeast -Keekwan (Cock’s Comb) Battery was taken is -to see how Port Arthur was taken, for all the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span> -forts were reduced in the same way. 203-Meter -Hill, the Two Dragons, the Eternal Dragon, -Quail Hill, Wangtai, and the Pine Tree fell as -did the Cock’s Comb. The only difference lay -in incident.</p> - -<p>It must be remembered that the fight was -never over with the taking of the outer parapet. -Inside the forts, beyond the parapets, -well protected by moats and caponieres, was a -sheltering earthwork called the contrascarp, -crossing which, storming parties met a close and -unerring fire from men concealed beyond, in -ways formed of timber balks and sandbags, and -called traverses. Below these traverses were -galleries where the garrison lived; and below -the galleries were the bombproofs protecting the -ammunition. Under the traverses, covering the -galleries and bombproofs, was heavy masonry -from two to three feet thick.</p> - -<p>To undertake the capture of the whole chain -of fortifications by such sacrifices as those which -gained a single one of the Keekwan forts might -have entailed the extermination of the whole -besieging army and of all the reinforcements -which could have been sent to its support. But<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span> -with one fortress in the chain in Japanese hands -there was another way—sapping.</p> - -<p>Through November the Japanese engineers -were busy digging underground from the advantageous -hold they had on the north battery. -They started straight down through the solid -rock. Only a few men could work at a time, -and these could dig only while the trench protecting -them, which was a few yards in advance, -was held by their comrades, vigorously firing, -to keep down the Russian garrison, now not -more than a hundred feet away. Moreover, -sometimes when the Japanese sappers were half -concealed in the earth, sometimes when they -were wholly underground, companies of desperate -Russians would suddenly break forth on -them, spurred by Stoessel’s promise of the Cross -of St. George and a money prize to whoever -should break up any Japanese work. Thus at -night, hounded by shells, sleuthed by searchlights, -and harassed by heroes from across the -way, the hole was dug. Forty feet down it had -to go to get below the level of the galleries and -bombproofs, then another twenty feet forward -to find a spot under the vitals of the fortification.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span></p> - -<p>Stupendous as the task was, the tunnels were -finished at last, and on December 18th a quarter -of a ton of dynamite was placed in two such -mines, and the galleries and bombproofs of the -north battery were blown into the air, with the -demolished bodies of some forty-five men of -the garrison.</p> - -<p>And even this was only the beginning of the -end. Already the Japanese had accomplished -a herculean task. They had sweated, endured, -writhed in agony, died, and they had taken only -one battery. Ahead of them still rose, tier on -tier, forts and batteries, moats and walls, until -the soul grew sick to think that Port Arthur -must be bought with sacrifice so vast. But the -Japanese did not turn back, did not weep, -showed no despair. They came to work, to -meals, as cheerfully as ever they had done in the -rice paddies. And this, notwithstanding that -winter was on them, that the keen, equinoctial -gales blew in from both seas, that the thermometer -fell to zero and below. They were surrounded -by charnel houses of their own making, -and protected only by miserable, hasty dugouts -shielded from cold and wind by a few broken<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span> -boughs, light shelter-tents, and hastily packed -earth. Death was preferred to a wound, for -the wounded had small hope of succor; yet life -was cherished and fostered.</p> - -<p>Meanwhile the Russians were busy. They devised -a new scheme of defense. Kerosene was -taken through a subterranean gallery of the Two -Dragons into a moat and there poured on piles -of straw. Then they waited.</p> - -<p>At the fifth grand assault, when the north battery -of the East Cock’s Comb was taken, the -Two Dragons were simultaneously attacked. A -company of Japanese headed for the moat. The -kerosene and straw were set on fire and the men -who leaped into the moat, expecting to find caponieres -as they had found them in the Cock’s -Comb, were caught by flame. Many perished -miserably. Some valiantly fought the flames, -but few survived. These few—that is, the few -who do the work in warfare—the few who accomplish -that for which the thousands die—made -possible the Japanese advance. Through, -over, and beyond these few, the Japanese finally -entered Port Arthur.</p> - -<p>Science is well, up to a certain point. Then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span> -it becomes useless and cruel. The genius of -the engineer helps the soldier across the valley -and to the parapet, but there leaves him in an -agony of suspense, over electric mines, under -dynamite batteries, crisscrossed by machine -guns. If the nerves of this marvelous soldier -survive the ordeal, and if his body escapes the -flying chunks of steel, he is reserved for the -extremity of modern torture—hand-to-hand -fighting in scientific warfare. At a moderate -distance he tosses balls of guncotton; he closes -with stones and stinkpots; he parleys with the -bayonet, and finishes with teeth and fists.</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/i341.jpg" width="650" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> - -IN ACTION<br /> - -Loading a 4.7 gun of the ordinary field artillery during the assault of September 20.</div> -</div> - -<p>By chance, one morning in September, as the -dawn came in, there was revealed in a captured -bombproof one little instance of the hideousness -of the conflict. The arm of a Japanese boy -in khaki hung limply across the back of a huge -blond fellow in baggy trousers. From the hand -of the boy had fallen a pistol, which had caught -in the blouse of the big one; it had not fallen -too soon, for just below the muzzle the blouse -was matted thick with the life stream that had -welled out in response to the death call. The -big teeth were clinched deep and tight into the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[313]</a></span> -little jugular. On the boy’s slant-eyed face, -good-natured, yet stamped with the strange -pathos of a people close to the soil, was written -a mute appeal for mercy. To that appeal there -was no answer. The boy’s dead face stared into -the unresponsive block timber of the bombproof.</p> - -<p>In the bloody angle of the Eternal Dragon, -the most fiercely contested zone at Port Arthur, -you might have seen these boys any day of those -three frightful midsummer months, when the -slim wedge was being driven inch by inch into -the Russian right center. Everything was covered -with the white powder of dried mud. All was -wrecked. The path lay through a series of -shell holes, connected rudely with pick and -spade. Up to that point the ground had been -neatly cut, but here it became rough and crude. -No inch of dirt had been unnecessarily touched, -because the enemy lay within forty yards on -three sides. The <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">débris</i> of battle was all about—torn -Russian caps, conical and heavy, -mingled with the light brown of Japanese uniforms, -cartridge pouches half filled, shattered -rifles, demolished sabres, a gun carriage<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span> -smashed till the wheel spokes splintered the -breech, rocks pounded by bullets as by a hammer, -and, over the wall, seen as you stole by the -chinks, khaki bags, loose over rotting bones.</p> - -<p>All through the night when this bloody angle -was first taken and after it had been protected -with trenches from recapture, Oshima, the general -commanding the division, sat in his tent -without sleep. He was shaken by sobs, for he -had been compelled to order that the entrenchments -be made of the bodies of the dead and -wounded. Only rock was there and to hold the -place a quick shelter was essential. The half-dead -men whose bodies were used by comrades -to stop the steel hail smiled in approval at the -work; they knew it was done for the best, but -Oshima could not sleep; he wept bitterly all -night.</p> - -<p>Along that bloody angle and through all the -eight-mile front for many months lay on duty -the soldier of the Emperor, the boy who won -the victory. He crouched under the parapet, -rifle to cheek, its steel nose through a loophole, -his finger on the trigger. The tensity of his -muscles and his eyes glancing down the barrel in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span> -deadly aim, made him look like a great cat pausing -for a spring. One leg was drawn up and -his cap was pulled viciously over his eyes. The -sun beat upon him as he lay, venomous with -pent-up passion, cut in silhouette against the -trench, a shade darker than the shale. A minute -before he had offered tea and cigarettes; now -he dealt out hot lead. He might be a university -student, or a merchant, or a professional man. -Wherever he came from he was the pride of his -neighborhood. Physically he was superb—perfect -eyes and teeth, digestion hardy and fit as -clockwork; this must have been so or he would -not have been allowed to enlist. Moreover, he -was a veteran of four months’ severe campaigning, -seven pitched battles, and two months’ hard -siege. Here he stood, far out on the firing line, -clashed between two civilizations, hurled into -the pallor of conflict, tossed by the greed of -nations. Yes. Down there in the ditches lived -the real besieger of Port Arthur. Not science, -nor generalship, nor race bravery reduced Port -Arthur; it was done by men who could live and -die with the simple heroism of cavemen and -vikings.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span></p> - - <div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="Chapter_Eighteen" id="Chapter_Eighteen"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">Chapter Eighteen</a><br /> -<span class="fs70 lsp0">THE NEW SIEGE WARFARE</span></h2> - </div> - -<div><img class="drop-cap" src="images/346.jpg" width="75" alt="" /></div> - -<p class="drop-cap">One morning in August General Nogi -stood before his battalion commanders -at Port Arthur with a pick in his -hand. Its nose and heel had been -worn away until the shank of rusted iron resembled -an earth-dappled cucumber. Fondling -it, the General said: “Take a lesson from -this Russian pick. Your men must dig. They -are too eager to ask, ‘Why intrench to-night -when we are going forward in the -morning?’”</p> - -<p>Nogi here went to the heart of his problem. -It had cost him 25,000 men to learn that the military -engineer must precede siege assaults, as his -brother, the civil engineer, precedes rapid -transit in New York. The lesson, taught by -Julius Cæsar to the legions in Gaul nineteen -hundred years ago, Nogi and his heroes re-learned -before Port Arthur in 1904. The advance<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span> -in that cycle of time has been not in -digging, but in ways of digging. The Japanese -had to cross a valley a mile wide and six miles -long, dominated at all points by every degree of -hostile fire. This did not appall them. They -accepted the problem, grappled with it, and -mastered it.</p> - -<p>They honeycombed the valley, in the classic -manner, with eighteen miles of trenches and tunnels. -The chief element in the problem was to -hide these from an enemy with lookouts above -the plain. “Till Birnam wood do come to -Dunsinane,” the prophecy that sounded Macbeth’s -doom, had already been heeded by the -Russians before Kuroki’s northern operations. -Here the witch, whispering in Stoessel’s ear, -might have warned him of his end when -“maize-stalk fields shall climb the Dragon’s -front”; for it was under the protection of maize-stalks, -twisting through a shell-swept plain, that -the sappers crept on their slow but inevitable -advance.</p> - -<p>The Japanese attaché in South Africa had -seen the Boer commandos, under fire, suddenly -vanish in waving stalks of corn, projected,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span> -screen-like, across a telltale front. It was a -savage trick, learned by the Boers from the -Kaffirs; and though school-bred British minds -sneered at a ruse apparently so childish, yet -many times their game was lost through such -maneuvers. The Boers used their maize in -wholesale fashion, covering their front with -deep layers of whole sheaves. The Japanese -improved on this. Students of nature, disciples -of nature, they gave no gross imitations. In -late autumn, over a field battle-tossed for three -months, trampled by two armies, and sickled by -the husbandman Death, they advanced, resurrecting -the corn-fields as they went, till the Russian -eye beyond could not guess the point where -maize standing by chance left off and maize -erected by besiegers began. Each angle of advance -was concealed by these brown, withered -sheaves.</p> - -<p>But maize was only the screen, and could not -hide the thousands of tons of earth which had -to be taken from the plain. To throw the earth -beside the trenches, thus bringing into Russian -sight a furrow like that of a gigantic plow, -would have revealed the Japanese position as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span> -clearly as a blue pencil could <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'have diagramed it'">have diagrammed it</ins> -on white paper.</p> - -<p>To hide the earth of this digging was the -appalling task. It was done gloriously. The -advance sappers threw their first trickle of mole-like -progress backward between their legs from -the furious indent of their tiny spades. Helpers -behind immediately deepened and widened the -rivulet of shelter thus begun. The infantrymen, -closing in at daybreak throughout the hot -sun, perfected it, but the reserves accomplished -the new thing. As fast as the earth was displaced -they carried it with gabions and bamboo -stretchers back through the zigzag lines behind -the mountain range which concealed their own -heavy guns. Here, parallel with the Russian -defense, mile after mile of fresh-smelling -mounds slipped up through the cautious, industrious -months following that frightful August. -Passing across the valley through these tunnels, -deep enough to shelter regiments, three months -after the Aceldama of midsummer, one could, -in safety, be frowned on by hostile batteries, distant -three hundred yards, or look into the plain -gridironed with cunning trenches, and, like the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span> -foe above, see no evidence of life. The maize-stalks -hid the trench turnings, and though the -plain was alive with its thousands of armed men, -even the practiced eye that had just been among -them could not tell where they lay. Where had -the output of that enormous digging gone? As -well ask the chipmunk where he puts the dirt -from his hole. It was a new experience for the -Russians to fight a foe who could wiggle -through the earth as easily as he could cross it, -and, underneath, escape the death that he met -on top.</p> - -<p>Both sides had sailors on land. The Japanese -emplaced the navy six-inch guns in the bottom -of a valley. The army field guns were -perched along the peaks in front, from which -they could bark down like noisy house-dogs. -But the savage bite came from the big guns, a -quarter of a mile behind, the location of which -was mistaken by the Russians as identical with -that of the blustering field-pieces on the ridge. -The sailors did not trust alone to the improbability -of their hiding-place. They cut out earth -the size of a ship’s hull, mended the broken -crust with timber balks, and thrust the noses of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span> -the six-inchers out of two square openings that -might have been turret-holes. Thus, entirely -protected, though within easy range of the -enemy, they escaped serious injury. This was -the most effective Japanese battery; it has become -famous for tenacity.</p> - -<p>For the first time coast-defense guns battled -with each other. The Russians turned most of -theirs landward. The Japanese learned that -field artillery was useless against either the fleet -or the permanent forts. Such knowledge -prompted the assignment of a naval brigade to -the initial bombardment, which, with the first -grand assault, failed. Then they immediately -turned to home for heavier ordnance. Mortars -for coast-defense along the Straits of Shimonoseki -and on the Bay of Yezo were all but -completed in the military shops at Osacca. -Twenty-six of them were immediately sent by -transport to Dalny, and thence by rail over the -tip of the mended Trans-Siberian to the last station -outside the zone of the Russian fire.</p> - -<p>The shipment of these great guns, the mortar-barrel -of one weighing eight tons, up to that -point where cranes, steamships, and locomotives<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span> -of the finest type were available, was a -gigantic undertaking. Arrived at the shattered -station in the night—for day work was impossible—the -task was only begun. From there -the guns were hauled by hand, for horses or -Manchu oxen could not be used where silence -and concerted intelligence were essential. -Eight hundred men were detailed to each gun, -which was mounted on skids such as lumbermen -use in the North Woods. Four abreast, with -hemp thongs across their shoulders, and all -attached to a long cable as thick as a man’s leg, -the men labored on through the mud, after dark, -with the Russian shells flinging out searching -challenge over their heads, occasionally a quart -of shrapnel bullets spurting promiscuously into -their ranks. Of the positions to which the guns -were thus taken the nearest were a thousand -yards and the farthest three and a half miles -away. Once they were there, no emplacement -of shale or earth, such as sufficed for field artillery -and for naval guns, would do. So under -each gun was laid eight feet of concrete, firm -and deep; and when it had hardened the gun -was emplaced. All this was done under fire, in<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span> -the night, the men being spat upon frequently -by the glare of the searchlight, pelted sometimes -by wind and rain, and, toward the end of -autumn, seared by the winds howling in from -two seas. It was prodigious toil, obscure heroism -unbelievable. But it was successful, for it -was this coast-defense artillery that sank the -Russian fleet. None other could have done it. -The monster labor of placing these guns on the -bleak Manchurian hills, from which they have -contested with the finest defenses in the world, -is one of the thrilling engineering feats of modern -times.</p> - -<p>For the first time in history armies battled -under searchlights. There had before been -fights at sea, and at Kimberley a few skirmishes -under searchlights; but in front of Port Arthur -they have lighted up decisive engagements, extensive -maneuvers, and vast losses. Science has -intensified war. It has limited numerical loss, -but it has increased individual suffering; and, -as in modern city life, it strains brain and nerves -to the breaking-point.</p> - -<p>In August, for seven days and seven nights -without cessation, a great battle was fought—the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[324]</a></span> -first grand assault, which failed and failed -and failed until Nogi learned his lesson. -Maneuvers as intricate and almost as extensive -as those in the north at Liaoyang were conducted -alternately under sun, moon, and searchlight. -The crux of this action rested on one of Stoessel’s -searchlight tricks, played on the night of the -seventh blow of Nogi’s hammer, desperately -driving a wedge into the fortress. All the afternoon -the Japanese artillery had been fiercely -bombarding the ridges of the Cock’s Comb, the -Eternal Dragon, and the Two Dragons. One -by one the Russian batteries ceased firing. It -seemed that they were silenced. Night fell, -with prospects fair for assault. A rising storm -increased the Japanese hope, for in wind and -rain the searchlights would be nullified. Then, -as night and rain came down together, the -searchlights struggling with both, the Japanese -shrapnel opened up against the lights. They -had tried before, unsuccessfully, to reach the -dynamos hidden in the hills. This time the attempt -apparently succeeded. The man behind -the light waited until a Japanese shell burst in -the line of vision between him and his foes, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span> -then turned off the switch, giving the Japanese -the impression that the light had been shattered. -In this manner, one after another, three of the -searchlights playing over the center of the field -were “shattered.” With lights and <ins class="corr" title="Transcriber's Note—Original text: 'guns apparenly'">guns apparently</ins> -out of the contest, and favored by the -storm and the night, Japanese expectation rose -higher.</p> - -<p>After midnight the most desperate of the -eleven assaults conducted through the seven days -was made against the Cock’s Comb and the -Eternal Dragon. Halfway up the slope of the -Cock’s Comb the three “shattered” lights, converging -at one point, threw the advance out in -silhouette against the red earth and the white -shale. At the same moment the “shattered” -batteries opened up, every gun alive. Simultaneously -a regiment of Siberian sharpshooters -sortied from the Two Dragons, caught the flanks -in their onslaught, and all but annihilated the -two regiments in front. Reinforced, bringing -to the task that dour pluck that has given the -Anglo-Saxon his hold on his big corner of earth, -a quality the possession of which by the Japanese -was once questioned, the reserves hammered the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span> -Siberians into their trenches; and though the -assault against the Cock’s Comb failed, shortly -after dawn the Eternal Dragon fell. This was -the tip of the wedge, driven at fearful cost into -the Russian right center, and was the objective -needed by the engineers to outline across the valley -the vast mining operations of those three -months.</p> - -<p>Between the hostile lines, held all summer and -autumn with desperate determination, lay a -zone on which the dead were not buried or the -wounded succored. To send Red Cross men -into this field was to lose two fighting units for -every one saved, and no general would be guilty -of such folly. The intensity of scientific conditions, -the forces of which are the searchlight -and the star bomb, the military engineer and -the hyposcope, thus brought the fulfillment of -Archibald Forbes’s prophecy, made twenty -years ago. The time has come, as he said it -would, when the wounded cannot be rescued -from a battlefield.</p> - -<p>Kimberley saw the dawn of the fireworks -branch of warfare. It was left for Port Arthur -to bring into permanent use this <i lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">feu de joie</i> of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span> -holiday nights, a delight in peace, in war a spy. -Rockets, such as we use on the Fourth of July, -bursting above the plain, threw phosphorus over -the advancing sappers and lighted up acres as -though by candelabra of stars. The Russians -used three batteries of such star bombs, and their -dazzle added spectacle to horror. Some Japanese -officers contended that they caused no -annoyance, but my observation of the results -was that they gave annoyance, but were not -a decisive factor. By lying low, advancing -troops could always escape being seen when the -light came their way.</p> - -<p>It was to be expected that a people like the -Japanese, inventive, versatile, and industrious, -would develop extraordinary resources when -confronted with such a problem as Port Arthur, -the reducing of which has caused them great -agony and cost vast treasure. Archimedes -would have rejoiced to know Colonel Imazawa. -Major Yamaoka of General Nogi’s staff once -said: “The world makes too much fuss over -the unreasoning bravery of the private soldier. -It pays too little attention to the obscure effort -of the engineer, who risks as much, but with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span> -full realization of what it means.” Yamaoka -was speaking of Imazawa. The two are -friends.</p> - -<p>Imazawa’s most effective device was the -wooden grenade gun, an invention to save -assaulters from death by their own explosives. -He found that a soldier carrying hand-grenades -of guncotton up a slope under fire, if properly -hit, became a more frightful menace to his comrades -than an opposing mine. So he made a -wooden barrel three feet long, erected it at an -angle of forty-five degrees on a wooden upright, -and by a catch-spring tossed the balls of guncotton -from it several hundred yards into the Russian -parapet.</p> - -<p>After the taking of Hatchimakiyama (the -Turban Fort), Imazawa found his men for the -first time on a height above the Russian trenches. -Then he invented the dynamite wheel. This is -a steel cylinder containing five hundredweight -of dynamite, with a projecting shield for soldiers -who roll it forward under fire until it -reaches the declivity down which it is hurled. -The opposing trench precipitates the explosion.</p> - -<p>Imazawa also improved the saphead shield,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span> -used by besiegers since the Middle Ages. -Formerly it was a heavy log of wood, protected -by armor-plate, behind which pioneer soldiers -advanced their trenches when close to the -enemy and under outpost fire. A solid log was -too heavy for the Japanese purposes, so Imazawa -contrived a framework of kiri-wood, both light -and tough, over which he built a steel shield -such as Maxim put on his machine-gun. The -shield stuck out in advance of the framework -like a cow-catcher on a locomotive. It was -rolled out of the saphead one or two feet toward -the enemy. Behind it two sappers, on their -bellies, dug out from under their legs the beginning -of a wide, safe trench in which, two days -later, a regiment could find shelter. Nervous -work this, with bullets raining overhead like -hail on a tin roof; but Imazawa made it practicable.</p> - -<p>Before he finally hit on his grenade gun, -Imazawa employed a bamboo grenade lift, his -first device to let assaulters hurl their explosives -into redoubts without danger to themselves. -These were twenty-foot lengths of heavy bamboo, -to the ends of which balls of guncotton were tied.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330">[330]</a></span> -Two soldiers carried one of these lifts up a -slope, projected the grenade over a trench or a -parapet, and let the furious Russians smash it -and themselves into destruction.</p> - -<p>The last thing Imazawa did was a mistake—not -his, but still a mistake. In preparing for -the third grand assault on October 29th, after the -sapheads had been worked to within a hundred -yards of the parapet on the Two Dragons -redoubt, it was found that a dry moat separated -the Japanese from their prey. The width and -depth of this moat were difficult to determine. -In the most fiercely contested zone, and on a -plateau so situated that it could not be accurately -seen from any of the heights possessed by -the Japanese, its exact nature remained a -mystery. Scouting was difficult, for it was commanded -not only by the batteries of the Two -Dragons, but also by the batteries of the greatest -forts at Port Arthur—the Chair, the Table, -the Cock’s Comb, and Golden Hill. To reach -it a scout would have to cross several hundred -yards of red earth, bare to every sight, and commanded -by sharpshooters. Of those who went -in for information about that mysterious dry<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span> -moat, for a week none came back. Finally one -scout, more cautious than the rest, returned and -reported to Imazawa, “Ten meters.” Thirty-nine -feet is big width for a moat, and no one -could wonder that, sneaking along there in the -dark, with momentary fear of searchlights and -sharpshooters, the scout, finding a hole wider -than his imagination, thought the distance great -if it was ten meters. So Imazawa made his bamboo -ladders fourteen meters long. On the day -of the assault, everything having progressed -favorably up to that point, the bombardment and -the flank work against forts on each side being -successful, the advance went in with Imazawa’s -fourteen-meter ladders. Under fierce fire -nearly half of the men dropped from the ranks, -and only enough were left to handle three ladders, -the glacis of the redoubt being littered with -four others whose bearers had been slain. The -hardy scaling party at last placed their ladders -securely on one edge of the moat and dropped -them across, expecting the next moment to dash -across them to victory, leaving the reserves -crouched in the trenches, waiting for the word to -follow. Judge of their dismay when the ladders<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span> -fell from the perpendicular to horizontal, -from the horizontal to the perpendicular -again! They failed to touch the other side, -failed to touch bottom, and disappeared. The -moat was fourteen meters wide. The dismayed -assaulters hastened back to Imazawa. That -night a party advanced and dropped a thousand -bags, at one point, into this terrible moat. -These sand bags disappeared, and not a ripple -of their indent could be seen. This sunken road -of Ohaine baffled the army and was the chief -reason that Port Arthur did not fall on the -Emperor’s birthday. Had they passed it, the -Two Dragons redoubt would have fallen and -the town could have been entered.</p> - -<p>Those who charge the Japanese with suicidal -folly should remember that when confronted -with this crack in the earth they did not emulate -emotional Frenchmen at Waterloo. They sat -down and gave Imazawa a chance to study. -They did not die in a climax of frenzy. Their -sacrifice is for a grand and patriotic idea. Sensational -despatches about losses spread the belief -that they die like flies. The truth is, they never -waste a life.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/i363.jpg" width="650" alt="" /> -<div class="caption"> - -<p class="fs80 right"><em>Copyright, 1905, by Collier’s Weekly</em></p> - -THE OSACCA BABE<br /> - -Loading the 11-inch Coast Defense Mortar during the general bombardment of October 29. -Two miles from Port Arthur.</div> -</div> - -<p>The use of many successful inventions showed -the Japanese equal to all the progress of the age. -The hyposcope enabled them to observe what -went on in the town, and from 203-Meter Hill -revealed the fleet. This is a telescope cut in -half, the front elevated two feet above the rear -by a further length of scope, and the line of vision -between made straight past the angles by -two mirrors. It gives a lookout within a few -hundreds yards of the enemy’s line a chance to -explore calmly at his leisure.</p> - -<p>Bombproofs for the generals were cut in the -solid rock a thousand yards in advance of the -artillery and overtopping the firing-line. Thus -commanding officers could get the traditional -bird’s-eye view of the battlefield. Instead of -sitting at headquarters, miles in the rear, as the -generals in the North were compelled to do, and -directing the action from an office desk, as a -train-despatcher regulates his system, the divisional, -brigade, and regimental commanders -with their own eyes could observe all that was -going on. The commander-in-chief had a fine -lookout in the rear center of his army, two and -a half miles from the town of Port Arthur.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span> -From there his eye glanced over as grand a battlefield -as the world has yet produced, for within -an area of ten square miles was brought every -possibility of modern warfare. Even cavalry -maneuvered. While his optic vision was extraordinary, -his mental horizon was vast and -comprehensive. Telephones centering to a -switchboard in the next bombproof connected -him with every battery and every regiment under -his command. He was in instant touch with -the most outlying operations, and, almost with -the ease and certainty of Napoleon at Austerlitz -could march and countermarch, enfilade and -assault.</p> - -<p>Telephone and post office follow the flag. In -the advance of the Japanese army down the peninsula, -telephone linesmen bearing on their -shoulders coils of thin copper wire, not much -larger and of no more weight than a pack-thread, -followed through the kaoliang-fields on -each side of the commander. The moment he -stopped, a table was produced, a receiver was -snapped on the wire, and a telegrapher stood -ready. More remarkable was the advance of -the telephone into the contested redoubt of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span> -Eternal Dragon, where a station was placed and -operated for four months, with the Russians -holding trenches only forty meters distant and -on three sides. At this station, along the front -of which twenty men a day were slain by sharpshooters, -mail was delivered every time that a -transport arrived, which was almost daily. Men -on the firing-line received postal cards from -their sweethearts and mothers an hour before -death.</p> - -<p>Telephone and post office followed the flag; -the Red Cross preceded it. The medical corps -came, not in the wake of the army, but close on -the heels of the pioneers. Before even the infantrymen -entered a Chinese village it was explored, -the water of its wells analyzed, its houses -tested for bacteria, and the lines of encampment -laid down. This unusual sanitation is looked -upon by surgical authorities as perhaps the -chief cause of Japanese success.</p> - -<p>But one could find another cause of Japanese -success, if the analytical probe is to be used -and the mystic impulse which gives men resolution -for supreme sacrifice ignored. This great -cause may be called originality. The record of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span> -superficial observers of her recent advance is -that Japan to-day selfishly and slavishly reaps -the values wrung from time and chance through -many centuries by other nations. If this be true, -she is original enough to survive the ordeal of -imitation. Had a single person shown the qualities -displayed at Port Arthur he would be -charged with having the audacity of genius. -This audacity did not hesitate to make use of -anything, new or old, possible or impossible, -conventional or unconventional, which might -win success from desperate conditions.</p> - -<p>Let me give an instance: the problem that -faced Japan’s soldiers when they had dared to -capture a minor position in the fortress’s line of -defense. Audacity won it, originality held it. -The trench-line of this bloody angle of the Eternal -Dragon lay down the slope and thus beneath -the opposing Russian trench-line. The -maxims of assault declared it untenable unless -the contiguous positions to which it was subsidiary -could be immediately taken; wise generalship -seemed to dictate that it be abandoned. -To hold it would be hardly worth the cost. Napoleon -thus laid down in general treatise and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[337]</a></span> -Von Moltke specifically so dictated; but -not Nogi. Give him an inch and he keeps it. -Besides, he needed this inch for his engineers.</p> - -<p>In the bloody angle the ordinary sand-bag redoubt -would not do. There was no opportunity -to erect the permanent masonry or even the -semi-permanent timber redoubt. The men must -have some protection that would let their heads -be sheltered a foot or more below the top of the -trench, and yet give them loopholes for firing. -Any conventional trench built from experience -or laid down in the text-books was impracticable. -A French, a German, an English, a Russian -soldier would have thrown up his hands because -his father and his grandfather knew no -medicine for such a hurt. The American, had -he been far enough away from red tape, might -have improvised. The Japanese did not hesitate. -Around the bloody angle he raised a trench -modeled on the medieval bulwarks of his samurai -fathers. It was built with ingenious quickness -due to his twentieth-century training. He -erected a front of rock, like the turret of a castle, -and through the deep embrasures of this turret<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[338]</a></span> -fired his machine-guns, while the ragged skyline -overtopped and kept him safe. On the spot -he married old with new. He was following -the destiny of his race—to tie the ages -together.</p> - - -<hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</a></span></p> - - <div class="chapter"> -<h2><a name="Epilogue" id="Epilogue"></a><a href="#CONTENTS">Epilogue</a><br /> -<span class="fs70 lsp0">THE DOWNFALL</span></h2> - </div> - -<div><img class="drop-cap" src="images/035.jpg" width="75" alt="" /></div> - -<p class="drop-cap">D ’Adda—the Marquis D’Adda of -Rome—had studied history well, -and he declared that the end would -come at “ze psychologique mo-ment—in -ze wind, ze rain, when ze high spirit -go low.”</p> - -<p>D’Adda was wrong. Port Arthur did not fall—it -capitulated. It was not stormed and won. -It was worn out. The military critics of the -world were right. Port Arthur is impregnable, -and well may some other power some day learn -this, when it is defended by Japanese soldiery, -properly provisioned, properly officered, and -properly supplied with ammunition. It was because -the Japanese were ever vigilant and never -lost an opportunity to push their victorious arms -onward that they entered the city as soon as they -did.</p> - -<p>The end came unexpectedly with the new year. -There was nothing dramatic about it—nothing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[340]</a></span> -spectacular, and he who wanted excitement -would have required excess imagination to find -in the event the dramatic climax of a great war. -When Port Arthur was taken ten years before, -it collapsed in a day, and the unspeakable carnage -before and after furnished one of the lurid -chapters of history. Chinese were massacred, the -town was plundered, and the world rang with -outrage. When Plevna fell, thirty years before, -the Turkish prisoners marched through the -snow, across the Volga, dropping thousands of -starved, scurvy-ridden, frozen comrades by the -ebbing mile stones. When Metz went down -a vast army came to the victor, and hemisphere-resounding -was the scandal. Nothing of the -sort distinguished the surrender of Port Arthur -on the morning of January 2d, 1905. A stalwart, -grim-visaged soldier in Turkoman cap -rode on a white charger out of the town to a -little village on the plain, saluted his victorious -adversary, and presented him the beautiful -white horse. The adversary, Nogi, with exquisite -courtesy, refused the gift. On being -pressed by Stoessel, in the Turkoman cap, he -accepted it on behalf of his army. Complimented<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</a></span> -upon his achievement he replied: “I -see no reason for exaltation—the cost has been -too great.” The next day this courteous soldier, -Nogi, the soul of chivalry, a prince of leaders, -marched in at the head of his worn but marvelous -followers. The Russians marched out, some -to honorable parole, and some to tender care -among their enemies. There was no massacre, -no spectacle, no great dramatic incident. War -had become a business. It was thus that these -two great men—Nogi and Stoessel—wrote -“finis” at the close of the first chapter of this -interesting new volume, called “Civilized -Warfare.”</p> - -<p>It is less than fifty years since Sebastopol fell, -and not forty since Lee abandoned the trenches -at Petersburg. Yet the weapons used at these -memorable sieges are now as obsolete as the catapult -and the crossbow. And yet Port Arthur -was won as were Tyre, and Carthage, and Constantinople. -Men will charge on machine guns -as readily as on crossbows. Apparently no defensive -works or engines can stop first-class soldiers. -Nothing so well describes the last few -days of the great siege as this letter which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</a></span> -came to me in New York a month after Stoessel -started on his way to St. Petersburg. It was -written by a man whose whole knowledge of -English came from his own countrymen. His -position is that of Adjutant of the Ninth Division -of the Third Imperial Japanese Army; his -service that of private secretary to Lieutenant-General -Oshima, who commands the division.</p> - -<p>The letter is transcribed, spelling and all, as -it was written:</p> - -<div class="blockquot"> - -<p class="right"> -“<span class="smcap padr2">Near Port Arthur,</span><br /> -“<em>Jan.</em> 3d, 1905.</p> - -<p class="noindent">“<em>Dear Sir</em>:</p> - -<p>“At last Port Arthur strongly defended and -well known in the world came to the end quite -late yesterday. Let me tell you a little about it. -After you left here we took front part of Niryuzan -as far as to the ditch which was 14 meters -wide and deep. We made two roads into the -ditch destroying two caponires and reaching the -other side of the ditch, we dug four holes under -the Russian bom-proof—the holes were about -14 meters deep. Then we filled them up with gun -cotton to blow it up. On the 28th of last month -we blew that up using 2.700 kirogram of gun<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343]</a></span> -cotton, at the same time our soldiers made an -asolt, and took hold of it. By that explosion -many Russians, large stones, and sand went up -high into air. It was just like a volcano. The -Russians increased and threw out many hand -granates and very hard fighting went on. But -about 5:30 of that evening the whole fort was -occupied by our men, after six hours of continual -fighting. After that we opened the road -to push out beyond Niryuzan. On the 31st the -first division captured Shojuzan greatly helped -by our men in Niryuzan. Before the dawn of -the 1st of this month this division took hold of -all Russian line from H. peak to Banryuzan new -fort, except Bodai. By a severe attack of the -35th regiment at 4:20 of that afternoon, Bodai -was taken by us. Though we had a good battle -on the happy new years day, yet the rest of the -army did not have any. Early next morning -General Stoessel sent in an officer and had the -letter of surrend sent to General Nogi. On the -2nd negociation took place and the battlefield -began to be entirely calm, by and by no sound of -a rifle. I felt something.</p> - -<p>“I really wished you could stay here till this<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[344]</a></span> -time to walk in together to Port Arthur. I got -slightly wounded after you left and lost hearing -of one ear. Wishing to see you at Mukden and -with best regards,</p> - -<p class="right"> -<span class="padr4">“Yours faithfully,</span><br /> -<span class="padr2">“<span class="smcap">Lieut. K. Hori</span>,</span><br /> -“9th Division.”</p> -</div> - - -<p class="p6 pfs90">THE END.</p> - - -<div class="transnote pg-brk"> -<a name="TN" id="TN"></a> -<p><strong>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE</strong></p> - -<p>Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been -corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within -the text and consultation of external sources.</p> - -<p>Except for those changes noted below, all misspellings in the text, -and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been retained. For example, -bomb-proof, bombproof; machine gun, machine-gun; firing-line, -firing line; hyposcope; tensity; deviltry; diapason.</p> - -<p> -<a href="#Page_12">Pg 12</a>, ‘defense motar’ replaced by ‘defense mortar’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_17">Pg 17</a>, ‘SEIGE, AND CAPTURE’ replaced by ‘SIEGE, AND CAPTURE’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_23">Pg 23</a>, ‘subterreanean mines’ replaced by ‘subterranean mines’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_46">Pg 46</a> (caption), ‘leaving Dalney’ replaced by ‘leaving Dalny’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_61">Pg 61</a>, ‘parchment-krinkled’ replaced by ‘parchment-crinkled’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_68">Pg 68</a>, ‘the fragant air’ replaced by ‘the fragrant air’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_70">Pg 70</a>, ‘His silk tile’ replaced by ‘His silk tie’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_74">Pg 74</a>, ‘primeval ectasy’ replaced by ‘primeval ecstasy’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_136">Pg 136</a> ‘rice paddie’ replaced by ‘rice paddy’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_160">Pg 160</a>, ‘reduce the catidel’ replaced by ‘reduce the citadel’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_203">Pg 203</a>, ‘commssioned officers’ replaced by ‘commissioned officers’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_221">Pg 221</a>, ‘To the Colenel’ replaced by ‘To the Colonel’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_230">Pg 230</a>, ‘wild crysanthemums’ replaced by ‘wild chrysanthemums’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_240">Pg 240</a> (caption), ‘the Jananese soldier’ replaced by ‘the Japanese soldier’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_240">Pg 240</a> (caption), ‘preceeding the battle’ replaced by ‘preceding the battle’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_303">Pg 303</a>, ‘chistening the fort’ replaced by ‘christening the fort’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_319">Pg 319</a>, ‘have diagramed it’ replaced by ‘have diagrammed it’.<br /> -<a href="#Page_325">Pg 325</a>, ‘guns apparenly’ replaced by ‘guns apparently’.<br /> -</p> -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Port Arthur, by Richard Barry - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PORT ARTHUR *** - -***** This file should be named 56038-h.htm or 56038-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/6/0/3/56038/ - -Produced by John Campbell and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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