Chapter XLI

THE SURRENDER

The first day of the New Year was drawing to a close when a Russian officer came riding toward our outposts. A Cossack mounted on a shaggy pony carried before him a flag of truce. Their appearance at such a moment not less than the grave looks of the young soldier betokened business of importance. Halting at some distance from the enemy’s lines the Cossack sounded a parley, and a Japanese officer whose keen eye had followed every movement of the strangers went out to meet the envoy of the besieged fortress. He returned with a letter in his hand, and the Russian ensign rode back to Port Arthur.

[Illustration: Russian Warship on Fire, Port Arthur.]

New Year’s Day is a Japanese festival, and even in the camp of the investing army custom held revel. Visits were made and hospitalities exchanged, while comrades fought their way up Bodai and looked down from the shattered peak into the quivering heart of the city. None dreamed that the long struggle was ended, and that the gallant defenders were preparing to lay down their arms. At dawn a strange stillness descended upon the narrow peninsula. Under the burden of silence, hills that for months had been charged with volcanic energies shrank into mounds of brown earth, and valleys and gorges that had pulsated with the sound of Titanic combat became mute as the grave. It was a new land in which we awoke--a land of unnatural silence that seemed full of portent. What had happened? Was this weird calm the precursor of a hurricane or was it the end? We wondered as we walked to the village where General Nogi had his Head-quarters.

“Port Arthur has fallen!”

That was the greeting. Not a trace of exultation! The Staff Officer might have been announcing a fall in the temperature. “Port Arthur has fallen!” The words sounded incredible. Even the most hopeful had looked forward to one more month of sapping and mining, and had seen in his mind’s eye the last glorious stand of the garrison sworn to make the fortress its tomb. But the silence was convincing. The end had come with amazing suddenness, and the walls of the “impregnable fortress” had fallen, like the walls of Jericho, at the blast of a trumpet.

The letter brought to the Japanese lines under the flag of truce made known General Stoessel’s decision:

“Having regard to the state of affairs at the seat of war generally, I find that further resistance in Port Arthur is useless, and with a view to avoid fruitless loss of life I would like to negotiate for the capitulation of the fortress. If your Excellency agrees to this proposal I beg you to appoint delegates to discuss the order and conditions of surrender, and to name a place where my delegates may meet them.”

General Nogi received this message at eight o’clock on New Year’s night. He read it with astonishment, for he, too, believed that the garrison would not surrender until the last fort had been taken and the last shot had been fired. Only three days before General Stoessel had convened a council of naval and military officers of the highest rank, and had laid before them the true state of affairs. The council was attended by twenty-two officers, and nineteen of them insisted on continuing the struggle. Three were in favour of making terms with the enemy. Among these was Col.--now General--Reiss, Chief of General Stoessel’s Staff, who feared that if the resistance was prolonged and the city was carried by assault there would be a repetition of the incidents of 1894, and the remnant of the garrison would be massacred. General Reiss was not popular with his comrades, and his fears were denounced as a slander on a brave foe. The council separated under the impression that its decision was final and that the conflict would be continued with vigour.

It was with amazement and consternation that the officers received orders on New Year’s day to destroy the ships in the harbour and to blow up one of the forts. General Stoessel had resolved to surrender.

General Nogi knew nothing of this council of war. He was, however, not ignorant of the fact that since the death of General Kondrachenko resistance had weakened and dissention was rife among the leaders of the garrison. Nor did it escape his notice that the proposal to discuss the terms of capitulation was undated, and had probably been written some days before. Next morning at four o’clock the answer was sent to the Russian lines under a flag of truce. General Nogi agreed to negotiate, and appointed as delegate the Chief of his Staff, General Kosuke Ijichi, with whom were associated Major Yamaoka, Chief of the Intelligence Section, Captain Tsunoda, Commander Iwamura, Dr. Ariga and Mr. Kowazu. The conference was to be held at noon on the second of January in the village of Suishiyei. “The delegates on both sides are to be invested with full powers to sign the capitulation, which shall take place immediately after signing and without waiting for further approval.”

From camp to camp ran the rumour of this momentous decision, and was received with shouts of “Banzai!” But the dominant note was relief rather than exultation. A great burden had been lifted, and men breathed more freely when they realised that the long struggle was over, and that Port Arthur had surrendered without a last and bloody sensation.

Suishiyei was once a prosperous Chinese village between the fort ridges and the mountains on the North. Twixt the hammer of Japan and the anvil of Russia it had been pounded into a heap of stones, out of which rose blackened gables and one solitary group of thatched cottages.

To this ruined and deserted hamlet came the delegates of General Stoessel and General Nogi. They passed through a broad gateway--which bore in Japanese characters the legend, “The road to peace”--and vanished from the gaze of a few casual spectators. Plum Tree Cottage--named after its owner--was a straw-thatched hovel consisting of two small rooms, which until a few days before served as a field hospital. Here the delegates met at noon. General Reiss, who represented the Russians, rode from Port Arthur with a small escort of Cossacks, and was accompanied by three colonels, the captain of the Retvisan, Count Ballascehoff, head of the Red Cross Society, a lieutenant and a midshipman. General Ijichi and General Reiss having shaken hands and exchanged compliments, presented their comrades, who conversed through interpreters. At twenty minutes after one o’clock the terms of capitulation were handed to General Reiss, who was invited to remain with his colleagues and to read over the documents. One hour was allowed for their perusal. Before the Japanese delegates retired to the adjoining room they were asked if the conditions were final. General Ijichi replied that they were final, but that he would gladly listen to any suggestions. The delegates then separated.

The conference was renewed at half past two o’clock, when General Reiss made several proposals and inquiries. He asked that the soldiers and sailors might be allowed to return to Russia; that the horses in Port Arthur should not be handed over to the Japanese; that each officer should be allowed one orderly; that the buildings of the Red Cross Society should remain the property of the Society and should not be changed; that a telegram might be sent to the Czar requesting leave to accept parole; and that a certain amount of personal baggage should be permitted to each officer. The battle ships and cruisers, he said, had been destroyed, and the regimental colours had been burned, so that none of these could be surrendered.

General Ijichi replied that the soldiers and sailors must be treated as prisoners of war; that the horses must be handed over; that each officer would be allowed one orderly; that the buildings of the Red Cross Society would remain untouched; that a telegram would be sent to the Czar provided it was written in English; that officers would be allowed to take with them personal baggage equal in amount to that of Japanese officers of the same rank.

While these points were under discussion a message arrived by telephone from General Nogi’s Head-quarters to the effect that a serious fire had broken out in Port Arthur, and that some deserters from the forts had passed beyond the enemy’s lines. General Ijichi warmly protested against such conduct, and threatened to break off negotiations if there was any further attempt at destruction of property in Port Arthur. A letter was accordingly written and despatched to General Stoessel, who immediately took steps to prevent any further acts of incendiaries. At half past four o’clock the conference ended, and messages were despatched to General Nogi and General Stoessel asking for a suspension of hostilities. The armistice began at thirty-five minutes after four o’clock on the second day of the month; five hours later a telegram was sent to the Czar, the delegates dined together, and fair copies of the terms of capitulation were made in English and Japanese.

The negotiations were conducted in English, the midshipman who accompanied General Reiss acting as interpreter for the Russians. At a quarter to ten o’clock on the same night General Reiss and General Ijichi signed the articles of capitulation, and Port Arthur passed out of Russian control.

Committees of Russian and Japanese officers were appointed to carry out the conditions of capitulation, and to attend to details concerning the persons and properties of residents in the city. On the following day Captain Tsunoda called upon General Stoessel to invite him to meet General Nogi, and to inform him of the message sent by the Mikado commanding that the garrison should be treated with generous consideration, and that officers should be permitted to retain their swords.

General Stoessel was anxious to know the whereabouts of General Kuropatkin, from whom on October the 6th he had a letter saying that he would soon come to the relief of Port Arthur. Toward the end of the same month he received another communication to the effect that General Kuropatkin had made his attempt and failed. Chinese spies none the less reported that the relieving force was already in the Kinchaw peninsula.

“Where is Kuropatkin?” asked General Stoessel.

Captain Tsunoda replied that he did not know, though he believed him to be somewhere in the neighbourhood of Mukden.

Thereupon the General took out a map, and pointing to the Sha-ho remarked that General Kuropatkin must be near that river. “Is it not so?” he asked.

Captain Tsunoda replied: “Yes. He was defeated by the army of Field-Marshal Oyama near the Sha-ho, and was compelled to retire after losing between fifty and sixty thousand men. Russians and Japanese are now facing one another on the banks of that river.”

General Stoessel’s next inquiry was after the Baltic fleet. Where was that?

Captain Tsunoda replied that according to newspaper accounts the fleet had not yet passed the Cape of Good Hope.

At this news General Stoessel looked grave and said with emphasis: “Now that Port Arthur has fallen it is useless for the Baltic fleet to come.”

Invited to state what had caused the greatest loss and inconvenience to the defenders, General Stoessel immediately declared that it was undoubtedly the shells of the eleven inch howitzers. Since the arrival of these guns the defence works were practically useless. Speaking of men the General said that he had strongly opposed General Sakaroff’s plan of constructing a harbour and dockyard at Dalny before the fortification of Port Arthur was completed. When the Japanese fleet attacked in February last he was filled with alarm, as the forts were only half ready and the garrison was between two and three thousand men. If the Japanese had known they might have walked into Port Arthur at that time.

General Kondrachenko was killed by a shell in North Fort. According to every naval and military officer with whom I have spoken, General Kondrachenko was the heart and soul of the defence. He was everywhere, and his influence was felt on all sides. In devising schemes of defence his ingenuity and energy were unfailing. He was to be found always in the thick of the fight, yet no detail escaped his vigilance and his resource, while his industry and his contempt of danger appeared boundless. With Kondrachenko’s death the story of the brave defence of the fortress ended. There was none to take his place. General Stoessel might well speak of him as a hero.

Referring to the origin of the war, General Stoessel declared that from the first he was opposed to hostilities. “Some people,” he added, “believe that Admiral Alexieff was the real cause of the war. I deny it. Alexieff never wanted war. We were both in China during the Boxer trouble and knew the qualities of the Japanese troops. In that expedition the lion’s share of the work was done by the Japanese and by my Third Division.”

The real cause of the war, in General Stoessel’s opinion, was the ignorance of the Russian people (_sic_), who knew nothing of the fighting capacity of the Japanese. As for himself, he remarked that he ought to be in the North with his division. He praised highly the pluck and patience of the Japanese soldiers. The artillery he did not consider good at first, though he had since recognised its excellence, especially in concentrated fire. The General went on to speak of his own experiences. “I have served in three wars--in the Turkish war as a captain and Staff officer, in the Boxer expedition, and at Port Arthur. I have been thrice wounded. This time a splinter of a shell wounded me slightly on the forehead. I have served my country well, and desire nothing more than to end my days in the country with the members of my family.”