The generals appearance was strictly in keeping with the severity of his surroundings. He was a medium-sized unpretentious gentleman, with a greyish moustache and thick greyish hair. He greeted me very naturally and pleasantly, and, after the Japanese custom, continued smiling all the time I remained with him. He asked me to excuse him for being seated, as he was in his stockinged feet; and he talked only in Japanese through an interpreter, Captain T. Okada, I think. As his back was to the window, I could not get a very good view of his face, but I carried away with me the impression of a plain, firm, grey-toned, friendly physiognomy, that could, however, be terrible if it liked. It was unmistakably military, but in the crowds at Shimbashi Station or Uyeno Park it would have attracted no special attention. You could only say, " That's some officer," but it might be a major, a captain in the navy, or somebody connected with the transport service. Yet this unimposing man dwarfs all the ancient heroes of Japan — Nobunaga, Hideyoshi, I eyasu, Kato Kiy emasu, K onishi, and all the rest of them. If Japan's religious customs do not alter he will yet be a god like I eyasu, like the Soga brothers. Other countries look back through the mists of years for their greatest captain. In the person of General Kuroki, Dai- Nippon has got hers in the flesh to-day. He may not be Japan's greatest general, but Europe will never forget his name, for he is the first Yellow leader who has beaten white men with modern weapons.
The general did not ask me any leading questions regarding the Russians (he seemed to leave all this sort of thing to the astute Fuji, to whom, however, I refused to give any information that could do harm to Kuropatkin), but he wanted to know how long I had been with them. " Since the outbreak of the war," I replied.
" Then," said he, casting a keen glance at my Russian coat, hat, and top-boots, " you have been so long with them that you have almost become a Russian yourself — so far at least as your dress is concerned."
I explained that there had been no other kind of warm clothing to be had in Mukden, and that, besides, it was better for me to wear Russian garments, since if I looked too foreign, I might have had frequent difficulties with sentinels and patrols.
He laughingly admitted the truth of this. When I asked him what he thought of the Russian generals he first turned the question by a compliment. "If they were as brave as the correspondents," he said, " they might do better."
I thanked him on the part of the correspondents, but remarked that I thought the Russian generals were often too brave and exposed themselves too recklessly. I mentioned the case of Count Keller, who had been killed, and of Generals Mishchenko, Rennenkampf, Tserpitsky and others who had been wounded.
General Kuroki did not seem impressed, however. He thought that the Russian generals were none of them capable men.
" But hasn't some one of them given you more trouble than the others? " I asked.
"No," he replied, laughing. "They're all on the same level."
He admitted, however, that the Russian soldiers were good fighters. Like General Fuji, he seemed anxious to know if the Russians were aware of the domestic troubles in their own country, and laughed pleasantly when he heard that they were. As a matter of fact, the Japanese had taken particular pains to keep the Russians well informed on this point. For some time they used to sendsoldiers with a flag of truce and a bundle of literature regarding the trouble in Russia to places near the Russian outposts; but, as after a while the Russians threatened to fire on any one who came on such an errand, other means for the propagation of information were resorted to.
When I asked General Kuroki if the Japanese would be satisfied with the capture of Mukden and if there was any chance of the war ever coming to an end, he paused for a moment, like a man in deep thought, and then answered impressively: " The war must go on." In fact, the impression made on me at that time frail the Japanese officers and men was that they would mutiny almost if the war were brought to a termination before the capture of Harbin and Vladivostock. Instead of being tired, they seemed to be only warming to their work.
It is a Japanese custom to give presents of trifling value to visitors, and, on my leaving his room, General Kuroki presented me with a box of Turkish cigarettes. I then returned to my prison, where I was visited during the rest of the day by a number of very sympathetic Japanese correspondents and English-speaking Japanese civilians employed at Kurokis headquarters as censors and so forth.