Stern winter was kind as a mother to Port Arthur. She covered his scars and wrinkles with a mantle of snow, so that sometimes he became marvellously beautiful. This was especially the case in the early morning when the red sun rose behind Golden Hill, throwing a long bridge of light across the blue-green sea, when 203-Metre Hill wore a spotless robe of white, and Liao-Tau-Shan's scarred summit, crowned with a diadem of snow, stood out clear-cut against a cloudless sky. Towards Christmas the water along the sea shore was frozen hard, a cutting wind had set in from the north, and nobody ventured out without a greatcoat. The days became gloomy, but not so gloomy as the political horizon, which was now as black as Erebus. In fact, from the day I landed in Port Arthur, the clouds, which afterwards burst in such a terrific tempest, slowly began to gather; but, in some manner that I cannot quite explain, we were all blinded to the logical outcome of the situation, and believed till the very last that there would be no war. The fatal October 8 came, and Alexeieff celebrated it by combined naval and military manoeuvres, whose meaning was emphasised by an editorial which he caused to be written in the Novi Krai. In this editorial Artemieff — or rather Alexeieff — declared that the Russians would never leave Manchuria, and made use in this connection of MacMahon's famous phrase, fy suis; fy reste.
The manoeuvres were followed by a naval review off Talienwan, after which Alexeieff went on board each ship and made an appropriate speech to the officers and men.
On the Sevastopol, for instance, he spoke of the brave defence which the city of Sevastopol had made against the English and French, and declared that, if necessary, the Russians of to-day would fight as well as their fathers had done.
On Sunday, October 11, there was a great review in the Suwarov Parade-ground, on which occasion Alexeieff, addressing the officers, hinted that they might soon be called upon to prove their devotion to the Tsar and to Russia. The Russians told me that there were about 40,000 men at that review, and I accordingly said so in my wire to the Herald, but I afterwards discovered that 15,000 or 20,000 was nearer the mark. Mr. Davidson, an American Consul, who was present, was told that the number was 75,000, and I understand that he believed it, and wired the American Government accordingly.
The Novi Krai came out next day with a most enthusiastic account of this function and of the appearance of the troops, and inveighed at the same time against Japanese spies, who were, it declared, getting infromation of every military movement that was taking place in Manchuria. This was, I think, on account of the presence at the review of a number of Japanese, who seemed too absorbed in the enumeration of the forces and the examination of the soldiers' shoulder-straps to pay any attention to the indignant glances that were levelled at them by the Russians. As a result of this incident, perhaps, all the Japanese workmen employed at the new naval dock were discharged on October 16.
About this time (October 19), the Novi Krai scolded America for insisting on Mukden being opened to international commerce; and on October 19 I saw Alexeieff in his house, and, among other things, asked him about this Mukden business. But he responded airily, with the observation:
" We shall settle that matter easily, without impairing our old friendship with America. International commerce must have its way."
When I told him what the Japanese and English papers were saying about Yongampho, he said: " These stories are all fabricated with the object of causing a sensation. There's no fort, no cannon, not a single Russian bayonet at Yongampho."
He spoke about the trouble he had with the bandits in Manchuria. " Outside the railway zone," said he, " and especially in the east of Manchuria between Harbin and Vladivostock, we have trouble with them all the time. Manchuria is a robber-ridden country. I often receive petitions from the Chinese begging me to retain my troops in the country, and I should receive many more such petitions were it not that the people are terrorised by the Mandarins."
In November there was a lull, but in December the clouds began to thicken, and the air was filled with rumours of war. On December 20 we heard of an assembly of military transports in Hiroshima. A few days after we learned that 2000 picked recruits had passed the Dardanelles in the Kazan.