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THE RUSSIAN ARMY AND THE
JAPANESE WAR

THE RUSSIAN ARMY AND
THE JAPANESE WAR,

BEING HISTORICAL AND CRITICAL COMMENTS ON
THE MILITARY POLICY AND POWER OF RUSSIA
AND ON THE CAMPAIGN IN THE FAR EAST,

BY GENERAL KUROPATKIN.

TRANSLATED BY

CAPTAIN A. B. LINDSAY,

2ND KING EDWARD’S OWN GURKHA RIFLES
TRANSLATOR OF “THE BATTLE OF TSU-SHIMA”; “THE TRUTH ABOUT PORT ARTHUR,” ETC.

EDITED BY

MAJOR E. D. SWINTON, D.S.O., R.E.,

AUTHOR OF “THE DEFENCE OF DUFFER’S DRIFT”;
AND EDITOR OF “THE TRUTH ABOUT PORT ARTHUR.”

WITH MAPS AND ILLUSTRATIONS

IN TWO VOLUMES: VOL. I.

NEW YORK
E. P. DUTTON AND COMPANY
1909

Printed in Great Britain

TRANSLATOR’S PREFACE

“The General stands higher than any other Russian officer, not only in Russian opinion, but in that of professional soldiers all the world over, and if any human agency can change the deplorable situation to Russia’s advantage, Kuropatkin may be the man to do it.”[1] This sentence, written by the military correspondent of the Times in February, 1904, well expresses the sentiment that predominated when General Kuropatkin’s appointment to command the Russian army in Manchuria was announced.

“It may be that a military genius would have overcome the moral and physical difficulties we had to encounter. Possibly; but an Alexeieff, a Kuropatkin, a Linievitch, a Grippenberg, a Kaulbars, and a Bilderling were unable to do so,”[2] were the words used by the General himself two years later when reporting to his Sovereign.

Though these two quotations epitomize the raison d’être and tendency of this book, they by no means afford a complete description of its scope. Were it nothing but an apologia, not even the former reputation and position of its author would save it from the neglect which invariably awaits the excuses of the man who has failed. But it is no mere apologia. For, apart from its tone of disappointment, apart from the dominant note of failure which is current throughout, and the explanations and reasons repeated on almost every page, the work is one long-continued protest. It is a protest from first to last that the war was not—as far as Russia was concerned—fought to anything like a finish; that it was brought to a premature conclusion; that peace was declared at the moment when victory lay within Russia’s grasp, when her strength was at its greatest, and that of her enemy had begun to ebb. Whether true or otherwise, this view should not be rejected without consideration as the natural cry of an unsuccessful party. These pages give food for thought; they, moreover, contain much that has hitherto rested in obscurity with regard to the attitude of the Russian War Ministry, its efforts to prevent the war, its general policy, and other matters.

The author endeavours to drive home his protest by marshalling an array of facts, and by analogy from the military history of his country for more than two centuries. Whether he proves his case is for the reader to judge. Be that as it may, his book must claim attention as being the absolute opinion of the one man on the Russian side best qualified to throw light upon the causes and course of the greatest world-disturbing international struggle that has taken place for more than a third of a century. It has also a sentimental interest in that it is the utterance of one who, after a long and meritorious career in his country’s service, and after holding the highest appointments his profession offered, has failed and retired discredited into the depths of the country. Whether he will reappear in public life or not is unknown; but when his distinguished services for Russia are called to mind, and a few of the stupendous difficulties with which he had to contend in this last campaign are realized, it is impossible to withhold sympathy.

The son of a Russian provincial official, Alexei Nicolaevitch Kuropatkin was born on March 17, 1845. After being educated in the cadet corps and the Pavlovsk War School, he was, at the age of eighteen, posted as a Lieutenant to the 1st Turkestan Rifle Battalion, with which he saw active service in Central Asia. Having passed with success through the Staff College, and being graded as Staff Captain, he in 1874 accompanied a French expedition into the Sahara. In 1876 he took part in the Central Asian Campaign of that year, being on Skobeleff’s staff, winning many laurels, and being wounded. During the Turkish War of 1877–78 he was Chief of the Staff, and was again wounded. In the Akhal Tekhe Expedition of 1880–81 he once more distinguished himself, commanding the Turkestan Rifle Brigade, and being twice wounded at the storming of Geok-Tepe. From 1883–90 he was General in Charge of strategical questions on the great General Staff. In 1890 he reached the rank of Lieutenant-General, and from that year till 1898 did valuable service as Commander-in-Chief of the Trans-Caspian Military District. In 1898 he received his portfolio as Minister of War, which position he filled until February 20, 1904, when he was appointed Commander-in-Chief of the Manchurian Army of Operations (having been promoted to General of Infantry in 1900). On March 27, 1904, he reached Liao-yang to take up his duties, and after several battles, in which the Russians were almost invariably defeated, he was, in March, 1905, superseded in the chief command by General Linievitch. Henceforward he continued to serve on in a subordinate position in command of the 1st Army until the end of the war. After peace was concluded, he remained in Manchuria superintending the demobilization of the Russian forces, proceeding, on the completion of this duty, to his country seat in Russia, where he has since remained in retirement. It was during his stay in Manchuria, after hostilities had ceased, and later at his home, that he wrote this book, with the assistance acknowledged by him in the introduction. Its publication in Russia was suppressed almost as soon as the book appeared, and it is believed that the subject-matter of this translation was never printed in Russia. Of the four volumes of the original work, the fourth has alone been translated, and is now presented to the British public in these pages.[3]

Among the many facts presented to us by the author there are some which call for special reference. The first point to claim our attention is the fact that though General Kuropatkin was Commander-in-Chief of an army engaged in active operations in the field, he was for a long time not supreme. Indeed, from the day he arrived at Liao-yang until October 25, 1904, he was subordinate to an officer not actually at the front, being appointed as assistant (the italics are ours) to the Viceroy—Admiral Alexeieff—whose headquarters were at Harbin. Curiously enough, General Kuropatkin says very little upon this subject. He merely points out that he was really in supreme command only for four and a half months of the war—between Admiral Alexeieff’s departure and his own supersession by General Linievitch—and incidentally mentions various actions and orders of the Viceroy which forced him to act against his own judgment. How detrimental such control must have been to the conduct of operations needs no emphasis. It is not within the scope of this preface to attempt criticism or justification of the Russian strategy or conduct of the war—be it that of General Kuropatkin or another—but such a vicious system of command may account for much that has hitherto appeared inexplicable. Other points which stand out are: the absolute unreadiness of Russia, the causes which led her into hostilities in spite of this unreadiness, the overwhelming nature of the advantage gained by Japan with the command of the sea, the drag upon Russia’s strategy constituted by the fortress of Port Arthur, and the fear of complications on the western frontier, which forced her to retain her best troops in Europe. The handicap that her inferior railway communications were to her arms is obvious, and less remarkable than the immense improvement in them effected during the course of hostilities.

Of the author’s opinions, that of most interest to his own countrymen is probably the one we have already mentioned—that the war was, for Russia, prematurely concluded. To us, however, the value attached by him to a “national” war as opposed to an “army” war is instructive while the forethought and care with which the possible price of Empire in the twentieth century was worked out by the Russian War Ministry is enlightening, for who has estimated the probable cost in blood and treasure of the expansion or maintenance of the British Empire during the next hundred years? His views also as to the correct policy to be pursued by Russia on the Afghan and Persian frontiers, and generally with regard to Great Britain in India and the Middle East, are certainly important.

One last point, and one which is much to the credit of General Kuropatkin, is that he was able to follow where he had once led, and after having been in supreme command, was content to accept a subordinate position, and do his duty in it, rather than return to Russia before the war was over. It is refreshing to find no word of repining over his supersession, nor any direct or indirect complaint of his treatment by his Sovereign.

These pages are an exact translation of the portion of the work comprised within them. The only liberty that has been taken with the original is that some of the frequent repetitions—of which the author is a past master—and certain passages which are nothing but long lists of names and places, have been eliminated. There is still much repetition in the translation, but this has been allowed to remain, in order that the English version might adhere as closely as possible to the shape of the original. As the translation had to be made mostly from a faint carbon copy of typescript, the work was attended with considerable difficulties. The many faults in style and arrangement can perhaps be explained by the fact that the original had evidently not been corrected in proof by the author. The fact, also, that no copies of the maps referred to by the writer (if such exist) have been available has added very much to the difficulty of the cartography of this translation. As the Russian system of transliterating the place-names in Manchuria differs considerably from that used by the English, French, German, or Japanese, it has been impossible without large-scale Russian maps to identify every village or locality mentioned in the narrative. Those that have been fixed are shown on the maps that have been prepared, and in all cases, whether a place has been located or not, the name has—as far as possible—been spelled according to “Wade’s System of Transliteration.”[4] By this means it is hoped that, when better English maps become available, some of the places not at present identifiable may be located. The large map is a reprint of that issued with vol. ii. of the “Official History of the Russo-Japanese War,” and has been used by the permission of the Controller of H.M. Stationery Office. A list of the most important actions, showing their names spelled according to the Russian and English methods, has been added.

In order to elucidate certain references to the Russian troops and to the mobilization of the military districts, it may not be out of place to give briefly the system of mobilization which existed in Russia in 1904. The law of universal military service has existed in that country for many years, and when war broke out with Japan recruits were enlisted from the age of twenty for twenty-three years’ service in the army, of which five were passed in the regular army, thirteen in the reserve, and five in the militia. The period in the reserve was divided into two “categories.” The 1st Category comprised those recently passed into the reserve, and the 2nd the older men. If a “general” mobilization were ordered, the 1st Category reservists of all districts were the first to be summoned to rejoin the colours. In case of a “partial” mobilization, however, the mobilization was by districts instead of categories, and in such a case men of both categories were to be ordered up from certain districts. The latter was the system employed in the war against Japan. The authorities, for reasons explained in the book, hesitated to employ the system of general mobilization, and so denude European Russia of all the 1st Category reservists. They therefore drew largely on the older men. The unfortunate results of this action are made clear by General Kuropatkin. Again, as regards the troops sent from European Russia, a distinction must be made between “reinforcements” and “drafts.” The former term has been used to signify formed units sent to the front; the latter term is applied to bodies of men despatched to make good the wastage as required.

A. B. L.
E. D. S.

London,

March 1, 1909.

AUTHOR’S INTRODUCTION

In the first three volumes[5] of my work accounts are given of the three principal battles of the war—Liao-yang, the Sha Ho, and Mukden. Though compiled from the best information obtainable, it is impossible for such a book to be entirely free from inaccuracies; for not only is our knowledge of what was done by the Japanese extremely limited, but it is derived from unofficial sources. At the time these volumes were written, moreover, there were few reports available from our own individual corps and armies, and what we had were sketchy in character. The most complete information, on the whole, was that given in the regimental reports, upon which we almost entirely depended; but even these were far from perfect. Commanding officers naturally have a soft spot in their hearts for their own troops, and the separate narratives gave very different accounts of what was done by units of one and the same division or army corps. Great importance has therefore been attached to such documents as copies of written orders for operations, dispositions and marches, casualty lists, and ammunition returns. Not that the latter could be accepted without careful scrutiny, as the ammunition lost on the march was often included in the total rounds fired. But, in spite of the admitted incompleteness and the partiality of the sources of information, the facts narrated in my first three volumes present ample material whereby to gauge the moral, the tactical fitness, and the armament of our troops—in short, to judge of the readiness of our army for war.

The account of the battle of Liao-yang was written in Manchuria by Colonel Ilinski, of the General Staff, who was then on my staff, and was sent in November, 1904, to headquarters in St. Petersburg. This narrative, supplemented by additional material from the pen of the author, forms the first volume. The second, “The Battle of the Sha Ho,” was drawn up under my guidance in Manchuria by Colonel Bolkhovitinoff, of the General Staff. The third, “The Battle of Mukden,” and the fourth, “The Summary of the War,” I wrote myself, the former in Manchuria and the latter at my country home. For the collection of material, the compilation of statistics, and most of the cartography for the third volume, I am indebted to Colonel Sivers and Lieutenant-Colonel Havrilits, of the General Staff, whilst Lieutenant-Colonel Krimoff, of the same branch, has undertaken this work for the fourth volume. Without the able and unremitting efforts of these officers, the completion and printing of this book, consisting of 2,000 pages, with plates, maps, and plans, would have dragged on for years.

Although the ordeal of war through which our country and our army passed in 1904–1905 is now a matter of history, the materials so far collected are insufficient to enable us to estimate fairly the events which preceded the war, or to give a detailed and complete explanation of the defeats that we sustained. It is essential, however, that we should take immediate advantage of our recent experience, because it is only by ascertaining the nature of our mistakes and the failings of our troops that we can learn how to improve.

In times past, when wars were carried on by small standing armies, defeat did not touch the everyday interests of the whole nation so profoundly as it does now, when the obligation to render military service is general, and most of the soldiers are drawn from the great mass of the people. If a war is to be successful in these days, it must not be carried on by an army, but by an armed nation. In such a contest all classes are seriously affected, and failure is more acutely felt than it was formerly. When the national pride has been humiliated by defeat, attempts are usually made to ascertain the causes and persons responsible. Some attribute failure to general, others to specific, reasons; while some blame the system or the régime, others blame the individual. Discontented political factions are quick to make use of a national disaster as a weapon against the Government, and so with us the party hostile to the Russian Government not only strove to injure it after the war, but did so—much to the disadvantage of our arms—during the actual course of military operations. This party would indeed have been genuinely glad to see us suffer defeat, as there would then have been a hope of undermining the prestige of the Government, and so bringing about a revolution. Their motto was, “The worse things are—the better,” and hundreds of thousands of proclamations were distributed among the troops going to the front—especially those from the west—urging the soldiers on to defeat, not victory. In Russia many journals, though not the organs of the above party, contributed materially to its success by abusing both the army and the Government. Again, many of the correspondents at the front, ill-informed as to our own operations, and worse informed as to the enemy’s, did not scruple to despatch reports founded on entirely unreliable information, and so, by exaggerating the importance of every reverse, shook public confidence still more. Many officers, too, wrote home from the field,[6] and tried to show their smartness by hasty criticism, by making inaccurate statements, and by discussing affairs in a pessimistic tone. Little was written of what really happened in the actual fighting-line—of the deeds of those many heroes who lay face to face with the enemy for months together, and fought on without losing confidence in eventual victory. The gallant private soldiers, modest young officers, commanders of companies, squadrons, batteries, and regiments, did not write—they had no time to scribble of their labours and exploits—and there were few pressmen who elected to witness their deeds: it would have entailed sharing their hardships and their dangers.

Of course, there were brave men among the correspondents, and men who were genuinely desirous of rendering assistance; but, lacking as they were in the most elementary military knowledge, their efforts were, not unnaturally, of little value where complicated operations were concerned. The persons really most capable of forming a judgment upon what they saw, and of putting matters in their proper light before the reading public, were the foreign military attachés. Many of them were in every sense picked men. They were interested in our soldiers, shared all their dangers and hardships, and, in return, gained their affection and respect. But while none of their reports were seen in Russia for a long time, many of our Press correspondents, who stayed in the rear and saw only the reverse side of war, revelled in harrowing accounts of the orgies and dissipation that went on in Harbin, and presented to the public an absolutely distorted picture of the life of the army. The result was that our Press to a great extent played into the hands of our foreign and domestic enemies; instead of which, it might have called into being with the news of our first defeats a wave of patriotism and self-sacrifice, and, as the difficulties at the front grew thicker, might have appealed to the Fatherland for fresh efforts, cheered the faint-hearted, and summoned all the best of the country’s manhood to fill the gaps in our ranks caused by the enemy. What it did accomplish was to instil a hatred of the war into the masses, depress those departing for the front, undermine the private soldier’s confidence in his officers, and weaken the authority of those in command. Truly the army had little encouragement to issue victoriously from its difficulties. On the contrary, the troops sent forward from Russia carried with them the seeds of fresh disaster in the seditious proclamations with which they were loaded.

A large number of valuable works upon different subjects suggested by the late war have appeared, many of them written with a sincere desire to do justice to the army; but, owing to ignorance of what really happened, they contain numerous and serious mistakes. Passions are now calming down, and it is possible to separate into different categories the charges levelled at our forces and their representatives during and after the war. These accusations, in so far as they refer to the War Department, were mainly as follows:

That the army was not ready for war with Japan.

That, having taken insufficient steps to prepare for war, the War Department did not attempt to prevent it.

That the leaders of the army did not make the best use of the men and material placed at their disposal during its course.

I shall endeavour in my fourth volume both to refute these accusations conclusively and to emphasize the principal lessons for our future guidance to be drawn from the campaign.

The work of the War Ministry of an Empire like ours ought not to be of a haphazard nature. Its success must depend on the amount of money allotted to military needs and the manner of expenditure of these funds. The country spends large sums on the army, thus starving numerous other urgent demands, and an unsuccessful war naturally leads to the conclusion that this expenditure has been thrown away. But, before forming any judgment, it is necessary to be in possession of full details of what had to be undertaken, and of the financial means available. The problems which confronted our War Department were the inevitable result of the policy pursued by it in former years; they were, so to speak, the legacy of the nineteenth century to the twentieth. That the size and cost of an army must be in direct proportion to the growth of a nation and the military activity of its neighbours, is a fact that cannot be ignored if we wish to rest assured of the safety of our Empire. To us, in our comparatively immature state of civilization, the burden of the armed peace necessitated by the immense growth of armaments in Europe seems almost unbearable, and our available funds are inadequate to meet all the initial and recurring financial demands. It has only been possible to satisfy the most urgent. To decide which were most important among such things as the re-armament of the artillery, the construction of fortifications and barracks, the accumulation of reserves, and the improvement of the condition of the troops, etc., was a complicated and difficult enough matter for the War Department; but the decision upon larger questions, such as which frontiers were most in danger of attack or on which side our policy of expansion called for another forward step, was beyond its scope. The solution was dependent on the general political programme, and this was, in its turn, the result of the policy followed in former centuries, and the outcome of the internal condition and needs of the Empire.

On January 1, 1898, when I took over the duties of War Minister, I found many schemes actually in progress, and numerous others—worked out and marked as urgent—for the execution of which money had not been available. Thanks to the ability and energy of my predecessor, the army was in a high state of efficiency as compared with former years, and I thus found myself in a favourable position to draw up a scheme of work for the next quinquennium.[7] But, as has been explained, the policy of my department was bound up with that of the Ministries of the Interior, of Finance, and of Foreign Affairs, and there had been a difference of opinion between the late War Minister and his colleagues on some most important points. As there was no co-ordinated programme between the War and Navy Departments, I was forced to spend my first two years in office in framing an exhaustive statement for our guidance. In this I traced out and summarized the achievements of Russian arms and what the tasks before them had been in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, showed which had been finished and which had been left over for completion to the twentieth century, and pointed out the sacrifices made by the nation towards this result. I reviewed the condition of each of our frontiers, indicated the numbers and organization that would be necessary for military operations in the different probable theatres of war, and estimated the power of offence of our most likely adversaries. Having thus arrived at some logical conclusions as to what had to be faced in the coming century, it remained to draw up definite proposals for the improvements necessary in the organization for war of the army.

The General Staff Academy assisted me in my work, Colonel Mishlaivski helping in the history, Major-General Zolotareff in the military statistics, and Colonel Gulevitch in the administration. Information on strategical matters was furnished by the General Staff. This analysis was completed and submitted to the Tsar in the spring of 1900, and a few copies—with the secret strategic matter omitted—were, with his permission, sent to the Ministers of Finance, Foreign Affairs, and the Interior, to the State Comptroller, and a few selected officials. The programme for the period 1898–1902 was framed by me upon the conclusions drawn from this statement. In 1903 a general report of all that had been carried out by my department during the previous five years was printed and submitted to the Tsar. This document showed the funds available, the total requirements which had been carried out, and those left undone owing to the lack of money. Later on in the same year a programme for the period 1904–1908 was submitted and approved. Thus, for the twelve months immediately preceding hostilities work was carried out according to a strictly defined programme, from the printed record of which the results attained can be judged. In the same way that we in the War Ministry were forced to have recourse to the lessons of the past when framing our programme for the future, so in this work is it necessary, in order to explain properly what was done in the years 1898–1904, to refer to the conclusions upon which the programme for this period was based.

My fourth and last volume consists of twelve[8] chapters. In the first chapters I shall include some necessary extracts from my analysis of 1900, and my report of 1903 upon the work of the War Ministry for the quinquennium 1898–1902, omitting, of course, confidential matter. The last chapters will be based on papers relating to the recent war, on my diaries, and on articles that appeared in the Press.

I have been so intimately connected with the important events in the Far East, and have been so largely responsible for the failure of our military operations, that I can hardly hope to take an entirely dispassionate and objective view of the men and matters that I shall deal with in the present work; but my object is not so much to justify myself by replying to the charges that have been brought against me personally, as to furnish material that will make it easier for the future historian to state fairly the reasons for our defeat, and thus enable us to avoid similar misfortunes in the future.

CONTENTS TO VOL. I

PAGES

[CHAPTER I]

An historical résumé of the problems which confronted the Russian War Department during the past two centuries 1–39

[CHAPTER II]

Russia’s frontiers in Europe and Asia—Conclusions as to their suitability to the needs of the Empire40–77

[CHAPTER III]

The expansion in numbers of our army in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the suitability of our peace and war establishments, and the growth of our neighbours’ forces—The growing complication of our defence problems towards the end of the last century 78–95

[CHAPTER IV]

Deductions drawn from the work of the army in the past 200 years, which may serve as some guide for the line our military policy should take in the beginning of the twentieth century 96–110

[CHAPTER V]

The work before the War Department in the concluding years of the last, and the early years of the present, century—Money allotted to it from 1898–1903—Inadequacy of these sums to meet the demands—Measures which it was possible to undertake—Steps taken to improve and consolidate our position in the Far East 111–144

[CHAPTER VI]

The War Minister’s opinion on the Manchurian and Korean questions from the year 1900 to 1903—What he did to avoid a rupture with Japan145–198

[CHAPTER VII]

Why the Japanese were successful 199–228

[CHAPTER VIII]

Reasons for our reverses: The minor part played by the fleet—The small carrying capacity of the Siberian and Eastern Chinese Railways—Absence of any diplomatic arrangements to permit of the unhampered despatch and distribution of our forces—Delay in mobilization of reinforcements—Disadvantages of “partial mobilization”—Transfer during the war of regulars from military districts in European Russia into the reserve—Delay in the arrival at the front of drafts—Weakening of the disciplinary powers of commanders as to the punishment awarded to private soldiers—Delay in promoting those who distinguished themselves on service—Technical shortcomings 229–309

ILLUSTRATIONS TO VOL. I

MAPS

THE RUSSIAN AND ENGLISH NAMES OF THE
PRINCIPAL ACTIONS

TABLE OF EQUIVALENTS USED

THE RUSSIAN ARMY AND THE
JAPANESE WAR

THE SUMMARY OF THE WAR

CHAPTER I

An historical résumé of the problems which confronted the Russian War Department during the past two centuries.

During the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries the chief work accomplished by our armed forces was that necessitated by the expansion of our Empire towards the north, west, and south, in her struggle to reach the shores of the Baltic and Black Seas. During the first years of the twentieth century our forces have been similarly engaged in an approach towards the ocean, for, some years before the recent war with Japan—but after she had defeated China—we occupied Manchuria and pushed forward our advanced troops into the Kuan-tung Peninsula and on to the shores of the Pacific. During the war we had to repel Japan’s advance while we maintained the position taken up by us as far back as 1897. In the event we have lost both Kuan-tung and Southern Manchuria, and have been driven back in the Far East, with the result that we are now in immediate contact on the mainland with Japan, who is in military occupation of Korea, Kuan-tung, and Southern Manchuria. For Russia this has been more than a surprise. It has been a disaster. But now that the first outburst of natural grief has subsided, there is some possibility of being able to trace the various causes to which our military misfortunes are due, of drawing attention to the most important, and of appreciating at their correct value the many hasty judgments pronounced upon military events by the Press. The complexity of the chain of circumstances which led up to hostilities, and the intricacy of the military operations which followed, demand some detailed investigation into the nature of the peculiar conditions which denied success to our arms in Manchuria. A proper understanding of the difficulties will, I think, be materially assisted by a review of certain events in our past military history.

It was only after a severe struggle and a violent upheaval that Russia became one united Empire in the seventeenth century. At the commencement of the eighteenth there were, in our immense expanse of territory amounting to some 265,000 square miles (of which 79,000 were in Europe), only 12,000,000 inhabitants; and our frontiers, though only partially defined, were already 9,333 miles in length. Our army was about 150,000 to 200,000 strong, but was unreliable as a fighting force owing to inferior organization and training. Of the total State Budget—some £1,200,000—half was taken up for the maintenance of this force. The proper defence of our long frontier necessitated an immense army, for our boundaries were not strengthened by any natural features, while our neighbours were powerful kingdoms, such as Sweden, Poland, and Turkey, nomad Tartars, Caucasian mountaineers, and the Chinese, about whom little was known.[9]

In the eighteenth century, besides creating a regular army, we had to carry on the following work, handed to us as a legacy from the preceding hundred years:

In the north-west we had to continue the efforts of Tsars John III. and IV. to drive Sweden from the Baltic littoral, and so push forward our frontier to the coast-line.

In the west, to proceed with the work of Tsar Alexie-Michaelovitch, and wrest White Russia and Little Russia from Poland.

In the south, to follow the course indicated by the Grand Dukes Sviatosloff and Oleg, of advancing to the Black Sea coast and creating unrest in Turkey, as a preparation for our further move forward.

In the south-east, to carry on the struggles of Tsar Theodore-Ivanovitch and Boris Godunoff to convert the Caspian into a Russian inland sea, and obtain a firm foothold on the ridge of the Caucasus. In Asia, to extend the Empire in two directions—towards Central Asia, for protection against raids, and towards Russia’s natural outlet in the East, the Pacific Ocean.

During this century it was only the first three of these projects that we really set ourselves to carry out. Our attempt in 1717 to gain possession of Khiva ended in complete failure, which for a long time arrested our advance in Central Asia; while in Siberia, thanks to the peaceful attitude of the Chinese and Japanese, and to the weakness of the Kirghiz, we were enabled to protect our 6,000-mile Chinese frontier with an insignificant number of men. Of the three tasks seriously attempted, the first—that of gaining possession of the Baltic sea-board—was the most difficult. For twenty-one years had that able commander, Charles XII. of Sweden, fought with a small but veteran army against the might of Russia led by Peter the Great. Even the genius of the latter did not avail to avert our complete defeat at Narva in 1700, but his determined efforts to create an army well trained and numerically superior to the enemy were crowned by our victory at Poltava just nine years later. This struggle—the Great Northern War—only came to an end in 1721 with our annexation, under the Treaty of Nishtabtski, of Ingermanland (the province of St. Petersburg), Esthonia, Livonia, and a small part of Finland, altogether 3,500 square miles. The reasons of our defeat at Narva were that we put too few men—50,000—in the field in the first instance, and that they were unreliable. During the course of the war the army was increased in numbers to 136,000, and at Poltava Peter the Great had a very large superiority in numbers, besides the assistance of experienced subordinates and veteran troops. During the whole war we put in the field a total of 1,700,000 men. Our access to the Baltic cost us 120,000 killed and wounded, excluding missing, and 500,000 invalided, but in gaining it Russia won a place among the great Powers of Europe. Our progress towards the Black Sea proved almost as difficult, and necessitated four wars with Turkey. In the first—in 1711—we again committed the same initial error as we had against Sweden, and started operations with insufficient numbers, with the result that, in spite of the presence of Peter the Great, we were surrounded on the Pruth. Not only did we fail in our object, but we were forced by the Turks to surrender Azov, and to raze our fortifications on the Lower Dnieper; but we brought up our total numbers during the fourth war (1787 to 1791), by gradual increases, to 700,000 men, and eventually defeated the Turks. Our maximum number in any one campaign was 220,000. By the Treaty of Jassy[10] we obtained the Crimea and the area between the rivers Bug and Dniester. This final four years’ struggle cost us 90,000 killed, wounded, and missing, and about 300,000 invalided; the total number of men put in the field during the century in order to gain access to the Black Sea being 1,500,000. The prosecution of the third task—namely, that of regaining Little Russia and White Russia—was the cause of three struggles with Poland, after the last of which she ceased to be an independent State. In these campaigns the largest army taking the field on our side was 75,000 strong. The total numbers on our side taking part in the three wars were 400,000, our casualties being 30,000 killed, wounded, and missing, and 75,000 invalided. It is plain, therefore, in which directions our efforts at expansion during the eighteenth century proved most costly. The brunt of these struggles was borne by our army, though our fleet, under Peter the Great—its founder—played a conspicuous and gallant part in the conflict with Sweden.

The commencement of the nineteenth century found Russia a strong Power as compared with her condition a hundred years before. During the past hundred years the Empire had extended in area from 265,000 to 331,000 square miles, and the population had increased to 37,000,000. The revenues had also grown considerably, from £1,200,000 to £5,500,000; but the finances of the State had been severely shaken by incessant warfare. Though £2,200,000 had been spent on military requirements, the whole frontier was still in an unsettled state, and required special watchfulness on account of the many politico-military questions which might arise with Sweden, Prussia, Austria, the Caucasus, and Central Asia.[11] The efforts which had been made during the latter part of the preceding century to develop our army had not been fruitless. It had improved in quality and in professional knowledge, had produced such men as Rumantsieff and Suvoroff, and had grown in numbers; but still its size was out of all proportion to the country’s financial position. Economy was unknown in military affairs. The administration was defective, there was no higher tactical organization than the regiment, and the training given was not uniform. The steps taken by the Emperor Paul II. to rectify these defects were without success, and the war establishment was reduced from 500,000 to 400,000. Theoretically, the army was distributed over twelve inspection areas or military districts; but when the western districts became incorporated in the Empire, and we thereby became directly involved in the political problems of Europe, the greater portion of our troops was required to garrison the country west of the Dnieper. In 1799 about 100,000 men were stationed across the frontier,[12] approximately 130,000 formed two armies in the south-western districts,[13] and in the north some 50,000 were distributed around the capital; the rest were scattered throughout the country, about 25,000 being on the Siberian and Caucasian frontiers. Though a continuation of what had gone before, the military problems of the nineteenth century had to be faced under more complicated conditions. In the north-west Russia had still to put the finishing touch to her effort towards an outlet on the Baltic by gaining possession of the northern shores of the Gulf of Finland and the eastern shores of the Gulf of Bothnia. In the west the Poles had to be kept in subjection, and our frontier defended from Prussia and Austria. We had to maintain the position we had won, and also to oppose Napoleon’s army of a million men. In the south we had to make permanent our footing on the shores of the Black Sea, and to guard its coasts from oversea attack. In the Caucasus and the Far East everything remained to be done. The consolidation of our position in the two latter directions, so as to protect, before all else, the Russian population of the southern districts, demanded an energetic advance.

It was upon the army that a large share of the execution of these projects naturally fell. Firstly, the beginning of the century was remarkable for our colossal struggle with France, of which Suvoroff’s campaign in 1799 was the commencement. We advanced against Napoleon as the ally of Austria and Germany, whom he was in the process of destroying; but the campaigns ended in our utter defeat at Austerlitz in 1805, and Friedland in 1807. The war in our country of 1812–14 was a continuation of the first two Napoleonic wars, and, notwithstanding the invasion of Russia by an immense army, and the fact that our troops were driven back beyond Moscow, Napoleon was defeated, Europe was freed from his yoke, and Poland became an integral portion of the Russian Empire. The determination with which Peter the Great and Alexander I. conducted their struggles against such opponents as Charles XII. and Napoleon is in the highest degree instructive. In both cases we commenced hostilities with inadequate numbers, suffered complete initial defeat at Narva, Austerlitz, and Friedland, but nevertheless continued the contest. In both cases our troops were reinforced, and gradually became trained and seasoned; leaders were created by the war itself, and our numbers increased until we obtained superiority over the enemy, and finally ended the struggle victoriously by winning the battle of Poltava in the one case, and by marching into Paris in the other.

One result of these wars was the final definition of our present boundary with Poland, which will soon have been established for one hundred years. Any alteration of it, as will be shown later, would not only be distinctly detrimental to our interests, but could only be brought about by a European conflict, which would entail such appalling sacrifices that any change would be on the whole as disadvantageous to Germany and Austria as to Russia. Thus we can at once dismiss the defence of our present Polish frontier from the probable tasks of the twentieth century. Still, the Poles, split up as they are amongst three great Powers, with their well-known national aspirations, have not up till now become reconciled to their fate, and the internal pacification and administration of Poland will doubtless prove one of the problems of this century.

Though our most difficult piece of work in the eighteenth century had been the attempt to gain an outlet on the Baltic, the completion of this task in the nineteenth met with little opposition from Norway and Sweden. The campaign with the latter country in 1808–09 lasted fifteen months, and ended with our annexation of Finland. During its progress the army was never stronger than 44,000 men, the total number put into the field amounting to 65,000. Our casualties were 7,000 killed, wounded, and missing, and 9,000 invalided; total, 16,000. It is interesting to note that we were in superior strength in forty-three engagements, of which we won twenty-nine and lost fourteen. Although after this war we annexed Finland as an integral part of our Empire, we paid too little attention to its internal affairs, the result being that there grew up close to our capital a large hostile country, of which the population, though small in number, was stubborn and independent in character, and was imbued with ideals entirely differing from our own. The final incorporation of Finland in the Empire has been left for our statesmen of the present century.

The consolidation of our position on the Black Sea, which we had gained in 1791, was proceeded with energetically, but was not completed, in spite of three wars waged with Turkey—in 1806–12, 1828–29, 1877–78. The first ended in our annexation of a portion of Bessarabia. By the second we acquired the mouths of the Danube and a strip of the Black Sea littoral, 370 miles long. The interference of the European Powers in Russian affairs, in order to weaken us in the Near East, led to the Crimean War of 1854–56, which resulted unfortunately for us, as we lost our Black Sea fleet and the possession of the mouths of the Danube. At the time of the Crimean War we had a numerically strong army, and much excellent material both among the officers and the rank and file. A great number of the former were of the nobility; the men were long-service soldiers (twenty-five years); while the warrant and non-commissioned officers were experienced men, and wielded considerable authority. But after the successful wars we had waged earlier in the century the army had deteriorated in war-training and fallen behind in armament. All ranks had been deeply bitten by Arakcheeff’s views of military science, the senior ranks being specially weak. That an army was intended for war was quite forgotten. Spit and polish and parade smartness were considered far more than battle efficiency, and more attention was paid to the “manual exercise” and to ceremonial movements than to anything else. The best proof of the views held at this period was the way in which commanding officers of all arms permitted the rifles to be filed and burnished, so that, in performing rifle exercises, a thousand rifles would flash and ring together as smartly as one. An officer’s military career depended on the interest behind him. Without influence only those got on who most slavishly performed the wishes of their commanders, however cruel or barbarous. The national movement towards greater personal freedom, initiated by Emperor Alexander I. after the Napoleonic wars, had penetrated to the rank and file of the army, but had now been replaced by an Administration which paralyzed every activity or impulse towards initiative throughout the country, and acted like a blight on every grade of the population, civil as well as military. Everyone was, so to speak, dressed in a tunic buttoned right up to the chin, and looked as if he had “swallowed a poker.” The whole country, army included, could say nothing but “Very good,” “Quite so,” and “All correct.” The private soldier was treated with cruelty, and was badly fed; peculation and dishonesty of all kinds were rampant. Not only did commanding officers largely augment their pay from the money granted for the purchase of forage, but this was winked at as being only natural. As had always been the system, the commands of regiments were given to the younger sons of the nobility, to enable them to exist, while the favouritism shown to the Guards was the curse of the service. Any display of initiative by soldiers was punished, and the Press was afraid to speak; a discussion in a military paper of questions of dress even was considered to be harmful “free-thinking.” The result was that while we were outdistanced in matériel by the armies of Europe, we made no progress in moral, despite our large numbers. Holding such views as, for instance, that the main use of a rifle was to make a pleasant noise in the “manual exercise,” we naturally did not worry about re-armament, and entered upon the war of 1854–56 armed with smooth-bore weapons against our opponents’ rifles. The spirit of our fleet, fresh from its victory at Sinope, and having such men in command as Lazareff, Nakhimoff, Korniloff, and Istomin, was excellent, and its numbers were strong; but, technically, it was even more behind the other fleets of Europe than our army was behind the land forces of our neighbours, and against our sailing-ships in the Black Sea the Allies brought a fleet of steam-vessels. The peace strength of the standing army in 1850–60 was more than 1,100,000 men, but the greater part of it was stationed in the western frontier districts, in the Caucasus, and in the large cities. The peace strength of the Allied armies amounted to: France, 400,000; Great Britain, 140,000; Turkey, 450,000. Only a portion of these forces took part in the war, but nevertheless Russia was beaten.

As regards our preparedness in our first campaign on the Danube, an officer who took part writes in his recently published Memoirs:[14]

“The conflict with the West in the Crimean War of 1854–56 ought not to have taken us by surprise. Rumours of war were prevalent in the summer of 1852; and, on account of these rumours, particular anxiety was felt concerning the inefficiency of our transport and military equipment generally. Indeed, the late Emperor Nicolai-Pavlovitch, at his autumn inspection at Elisavetgrad, personally warned the troops of the proximity of hostilities. Finally, in June, 1853, our troops crossed the Pruth and occupied the Danube Principality, and in October Turkey declared war. Our brilliant victory and the total destruction of the enemy’s fleet at Sinope aroused the enthusiasm of the whole nation, but gave France and great Britain a casus belli against us. Then began the long series of sad and scandalous disasters to the Russian arms. The Danube campaign of 1853–54 could not possibly have been successful, for it was carried out with no definite object. Either because we did not fathom Austria’s real intentions, or else believed that she would remain neutral, we tried to meet her demands, and by so doing tied our own hands. Our defence of the left bank of the river was not favoured by one single piece of good fortune, and our offensive operations were soon abandoned under pressure from Austria. The campaign brought us neither honour nor gain, and while once more confirming the gallantry of the Russian soldier, it exposed the criminal incapacity of his commanders and the many abuses which had crept into the Service. In June, 1854, we returned with shame and anger to our own country from the walls of undefeated Silistria, and the Allies turned their glances towards the Crimea.”

The disembarkation of the allied armies, only 50,000 strong, seemed madness in face of our force of 1,000,000 men and our strong fleet. However, Prince Menshikoff, the Commander-in-Chief, and a professional sailor into the bargain, allowed the landing to take place without hindrance at Eupatoria on September 14 and 15, though he had at his disposal sixty vessels, amongst them some steamers. Though the fleet could not, of course, have counted with absolute certainty on victory, we had it in our power then to wreck the enemy’s plan of operations by dispersing their convoys of transports. The Allies were on the sea from September 8 to September 14 between Varna and Eupatoria, but we were unable to find them. At the Alma we had 33,000 men (42 battalions, 16 squadrons, 84 guns), and offered a determined resistance; but though we were operating in our own country, we did not know the locality, and General Boskey, leading his column by a path of whose existence we were ignorant, fell upon our left flank. This attack decided the day, and our troops were routed.[15] Then on September 26 began the eleven months’ struggle for Sevastopol. Our exhausted fleet landed a number of guns and lent some experienced commanders to the army—chief of all, Nakhimoff, Korniloff, and Istomin. Operations now assumed the character of siege warfare, in which our troops played their part most nobly; but it must be remembered that the army of the Crimea was twice severely beaten: on November 5, 1854, at Inkerman, and on August 17, 1855, at the Tchernaya. Regarding the Battle of Inkerman, the above-quoted writer says:

“Prince Menshikoff, with the arrival of the remaining two divisions of the 4th Infantry Corps, had, in addition to the Sevastopol garrison, an army of 40,000 men under him, but he lost the great battle of Inkerman on November 5, 1854. Its object was to seize Sapun Ridge, as a first step to raising the siege of the town, after which he would have driven the Allies towards Balaclava and then out of the Crimea. The battle was well planned, every arrangement was made to insure victory, but the result was, owing to the incomprehensible mistakes of individual commanders, a bloody and decisive defeat.

* * * * *

“Ten thousand casualties, a loss of moral among the troops—the soldiers’ lack of confidence in their leaders, as well as Prince Menshikoff’s distrust of the army under his command—were the results of this disaster which for so long doomed our force to play a passive rôle. The ultimate issue of the Crimean campaign was really settled by this; the moment for the relief of Sevastopol had been missed, and our field operations lost every trace of initiative. A moral deterioration set in which led to unheard-of irregularities in our army.”

Menshikoff was replaced by Prince Gorchakoff, but things became no better. The troops at the Alma[16] were commanded just as they had been at Inkerman. While individual commanders did not help one another, the attack delivered from Sevastopol did not support the operations on the Alma. On September 8 the Allies delivered an assault, and seized Malakhoff Hill. Though they were driven back with great loss from other portions of the position, we were compelled to withdraw from the northern side during the night of the 10th. This retirement was decisive, and peace was declared—a peace dishonourable to us, for by it we were deprived of the right to maintain a fleet on the Black Sea, and lost the mouths of the Danube. This result was all the more painful as the Allies were inferior to us in strength, and, had we been determined to continue the war at all costs, would have been obliged to make up their minds to conquer the Peninsula. Even had they succeeded in taking it, we ought, remembering Peter the Great’s counsel in the Northern War, and Alexander I.’s example in the war of the Fatherland, to have continued the struggle.

Our weak points were the incapacity of our seniors and of our staff, and particularly the inefficiency of the supply services. Of the different arms, the infantry, artillery, and sappers were the most reliable, while the cavalry, despite its numbers, played a small and inglorious part. It was very difficult to maintain communication with our own country in the rear, especially in the winter, when the roads were bad. The transport of supplies to the front encountered such great obstacles, and was so badly arranged, that the troops had not only to undergo great hardships, but were often in actual want of food. The medical services also were shockingly organized. Drunkenness and gambling amongst both officers and men, especially at a distance from the advanced positions, were of everyday occurrence, and looting and robbery of every kind became universal. But this was the seamy side of affairs, and did not imply that the whole army or the whole nation were rotten, for, despite all the mistakes of our commanders, the men kept up their spirit, and were quite ready to fight on until victory should eventually crown their efforts. The war produced Nakhimoff, Korniloff, and Istomin, who met heroic deaths, whilst amongst the survivors stood out the names of Khruleff, Todleben, Sabashinski, and others. Of the regimental commanders, most proved in every way fitted for their duties, and many junior officers of all arms became seasoned veterans whom the private soldiers would follow anywhere. The men were patient, enduring, brave, and ignorant.

The finances of the country, moreover, were not crippled by this war. Throughout the operations only two loans were raised, amounting to £10,000,000; £43,000,000 of paper-money were issued, and £19,000,000 taken in State banks. Altogether the war cost us £72,000,000. Even in 1856 general belief in our power and resources was not shaken, and our credit stood high, in spite of our disasters in the field. We, therefore, could and ought to have continued the struggle. If we had done so, the Allies would, as I have said, have been obliged to undertake the conquest of the Crimea. In proportion as they advanced from the coast their difficulties would have increased, while our army, gaining numbers and experience, would have become more and more formidable, and would in the end have hurled them back into the sea. In his notes on the war our historian, Solovieff wrote as follows:

“At the time of the accession of the new Emperor, the minds of all were full of the painful ending of the Crimean War. Alexander II. was forced to begin his reign with the conclusion of a peace such as no Russian Emperor had accepted since the peace after the Pruth, and the new Emperor felt to the full the weight of the burden imposed upon him. Foreign affairs were by no means in so critical a state that an energetic ruler could not have emerged from the war without loss of dignity or material advantages. In the interior of Russia there was no exhaustion; the nation was by no means driven to extremities. The new Tsar, whom everyone desired to love, could undoubtedly, if he had appealed to this feeling and to the national patriotism, have aroused a tremendous enthusiasm which would have supported any action he chose to take. The Allies not only felt the burden of the war, but were desperately anxious for its close, and a firm announcement by the Tsar to the effect that he intended to continue fighting until an honourable peace was concluded would undoubtedly have compelled them to fall back.

* * * * *

“... But for this course of action, breadth of view, daring, capability, and energy were necessary—qualities which the new Emperor did not possess. It would even have been sufficient if he had had round him advisers who would have lent him some support, but there was not a man of any moral or intellectual strength in his entourage. He was surrounded by those who, haunted by the groundless fear of having to fight the whole of Europe, had been partly responsible for Nicholas’s retreat. The only voices to be heard now were those that cried: ‘Peace! peace at any price!’ And so, after the fall of Sevastopol, peace was concluded at a moment when that place might have played the same rôle as Moscow did in 1812. After the sacrifice of the fortress we should have announced that, far from being over, operations were only just beginning! With the Allies would have then remained the onus of finishing the war.”

Dissatisfaction with the results of the campaign was universal, and penetrated all grades of society. The root of the evil was seen to lie in our serfdom, so the Tsar Alexander II., the most humane of men, himself headed a movement for the emancipation of the serfs. They received their freedom. This event was of extraordinary importance, constituting, in truth, an epoch in Russian life, which affected all spheres of activity, not excluding that of the War Department. A new language was heard on all sides. Indeed, it is difficult now to realize the animated, convincing, and liberal tone of the articles which appeared in the Voenni Sbornik. But, alas! everything soon returned to its former state. The Polish rebellion of 1863, the attempt to assassinate the Tsar, and the open conspiracies of a few evil-minded people, served as a pretext for the adherents of the old régime to strive for the reduction of the rights that had been granted. Their efforts were crowned with success, and a reaction set in which was particularly violent as regards educational and agrarian affairs. The War Department, however, was under the enlightened guidance of General Milutin, who, as far as possible, reduced the effect of this reaction upon the army; the department, indeed, was on this account for some time looked upon with suspicion. Though the Crimean War did arouse to some extent the latent patriotism of the masses, it was waged at too great a distance from the heart of the people to have earned the title of a national struggle.

It is unthinkable that any great nation could ever have become reconciled to the terms of such a peace as that signed by Russia in 1856, when she engaged to abstain from maintaining a fleet in the Black Sea, and to give up the mouths of the Danube, won by her in 1828–29. However involved, therefore, its causes may appear, the war of 1877–78 was in reality but a continuation of our two-hundred-year-old struggle towards the Black Sea, on this occasion complicated by the necessity of assisting our kindred in the Balkans—the Servians and Bulgarians. Though we did not make the most of our opportunities, the time for preparation allowed us by the Turko-Servian War really decided the issue of that between ourselves and Turkey. It is true we mobilized and concentrated the army in Bessarabia before the declaration of war, but we delayed so long in making this declaration that the Turks also had time for preparation. The severe reverses we suffered after our initial successes showed that our opponents, who were now armed with the breech-loading rifle and organized on the European model, were no longer the foe that we had faced in 1828, whose mobs of armed men were easily routed by small bodies of our troops. As usual, we put too few men in the field at first; but the Emperor, upon the advice of General Milutin, pressed masses of reinforcements to the front, among them the Guards and the Grenadiers, the flower of our army. Our comparatively short line of communication enabled this to be done with considerable rapidity. It was at Plevna, in August, 1877, that we suffered our last heavy reverse, and by October the Guards and Grenadiers had arrived at the front. Including the Roumanian, Servian, Montenegrin, and Bulgarian militias, we succeeded in placing superior numbers in the field, our armies amounting altogether to some 850,000 men in both theatres of operations, and in spite of the enemy’s gallant opposition, we advanced up to the very walls of their capital. But it was not a lightly-won victory. To break down the stubborn defence of the Turks, who were ably commanded at Plevna, we were forced to put thrice their number into the field. Dubniak Hill, which was very weakly fortified, was only taken by the Guards, who were five or six times as strong as the enemy at that particular point, after a desperate fight. Though their earth-works were mostly of field profile, and without any obstacles, such as wire entanglement, mines, and abatis; though the defenders had no bomb-proof shelters; and though we were three to one in men, and put many more guns in action, we were unable to seize Plevna by assault, but had to resort to a blockade. Our Commander-in-Chief, however, was ably supported on the European side by such distinguished leaders as Gurko, Skobeleff, Radetski, and Todleben, whose troops soon became seasoned, and brought victory to our arms. In the theatre of operations in Asia the Grand-Duke Michael Nicolaeff was assisted by Lazareff, Heyman, Ter-Gukasoff—all energetic and able soldiers. Under them our Caucasian force did gallant service. While the force under Kridner and Zotovi was being driven back from the weak Plevna position, they were engaged in night assaults on the fortress of Kars. The defence of the Shipka Pass and of Bayazet, on the Turkish side, are among the most brilliant achievements in our military history.

This war again showed up many blots in our organization. The supply and medical services were very inefficient. The work of the cavalry and artillery on the European side was not up to expectation. The whole burden of the campaign was borne by the infantry, and right well did this Arm issue from the ordeal. In some engagements units lost as much as one-third or even half their strength, and yet were able to re-form and continue the action. Nor was there anything to complain of as regards the reservists. Their long halt at Kishineff enabled them to shake down and to amalgamate with the serving soldiers. Certain units, however, just brought up to strength with reservists, and sent into action before they had had time to be properly trained and disciplined, were not on every occasion as steady as they should have been; but, generally speaking, our troops upheld their reputation for gallantry, steadiness, endurance, and discipline. But we were stronger in defence than in the attack. Although this campaign—our first experience after the introduction of the law of universal military service—ended successfully, it emphasized the inferiority of our arrangements for rapid mobilization and concentration as compared with those of our western neighbours. The men were called up upon no regular mobilization scheme or system, and the reserve units were formed haphazard, and, owing to the inefficiency of the railways running to Roumania, the general concentration was slow. Our information about the enemy was insufficient and unreliable—it was due to our ignorance of their strength that we took the field with such weak numbers. Our re-armament was not completed owing to lack of funds, and we started operations with three different patterns of rifle. We did not have enough maps, and the reconnaissance sketches which had been made—of the Shipka position, for instance—were left behind in St. Petersburg. Our artillery matériel was technically inferior to the enemy’s, our 4-pounder gun in particular being useless. The engineer services and stores were insufficient, and their distribution was bad. Thus, in the fights at Plevna on September 12 and 13, when Skobeleff and Imeretinski led the main attack on the enemy’s fortified position, with an army corps consisting of twenty-two battalions, there was only a detachment of some thirty sappers, which I myself had by chance been able to collect! Siege material was not forthcoming in sufficient quantity, and what there was was of obsolete pattern. I have touched upon the cavalry duties on the European side, which were, with few exceptions, unsatisfactorily and selfishly performed throughout the war. The work of the artillery, which on the Caucasian side was splendid and self-sacrificing, in Europe often left much to be desired. There were instances of batteries retiring because a few men had been wounded. Many of the most senior commanders were unfit for their positions, and capable artillery or cavalry leaders were few and far between. The staff work, particularly that of the General Staff, was seldom good. There was far too much correspondence before a battle, while to report the most important events, or to inform subordinates of what was happening, was a duty frequently forgotten in the stress of action. During the actual combat touch was not properly maintained either laterally or to the rear, and as a result there was little co-operation between the different arms, the brunt of the fight being thrown almost entirely on the infantry. The light railway communication (via Roumania) was inadequate in capacity and badly organized. There were no rest-camps along the line, and in winter, when the roads were cut up, the transport of every kind of supplies was almost impossible. The attitude of our troops in Bulgaria towards the inhabitants was not always humane or just. Payment for produce brought in was made irregularly, or not at all, owing to the improper system whereby forage allowance was treated as the perquisite of a commanding officer. Away from the front disorder and debauchery were common. Owing to our hurried advance in insufficient strength, we were obliged to evacuate areas of the country once occupied, and the people who had at first received us with open arms as liberators were forced either to retire with us or be slain by the returning Turks. Consequently, for a time there was a general revulsion of feeling; the Bulgarians lost all faith in us, and began to turn towards the enemy. Up to a certain point it was the Crimea over again. Strong in defence, we were weak in power of manœuvre, and our attacks consequently suffered from clumsiness: this was notably the case at Plevna. On the other hand, there is no doubt that we were greatly assisted by the comparative unreadiness of the Turks for any offensive operations; otherwise our cordon in Bulgaria might have easily been broken in August or September, before reinforcements reached us. We should then have been obliged to fall back behind the Danube. Only the jealousy and incompetence of the Turkish leaders, and the interference from Constantinople, saved us from misfortune. In spite, however, of all our want of organization, in spite of all our shortcomings, we defeated the Turks, capturing whole army corps at Plevna, Shipka, and Kars, and finally marched victoriously to the walls of Constantinople itself. This was the last great war in which we were engaged in the nineteenth century, and immediately after it, in 1879, our military self-esteem received a severe blow in Central Asia. Repeated raiding by the Turcomans, carried out even in the neighbourhood of Krasnovodsk, necessitated a special expedition into the Turcoman Steppe. The experienced and veteran leader, General Lazareff, was appointed to its command, but at his death, on the eve of the departure of the force from the line of the Artek towards Geok Tepe, the command unfortunately passed to the next senior—General Lomakin—who was quite unfitted for such responsibility. The expedition ended in disaster. The force reached Geok Tepe, the weakly fortified Turcoman stronghold, and made an attempt to storm it which was unsuccessful, though our troops consisted of the magnificent Caucasian regiments. We were forced to abandon several hundred breech-loading rifles, and to retire with great loss to the fortified posts on the line of the Artek. We had to make greater efforts, and had to organize quite a large force—measured by the standard of Asiatic warfare. General Skobeleff, an especially able and energetic man, was given the command of it, and after a severe fight he defeated the Turcomans and seized Geok Tepe. We twice met with reverses in the different night attacks made by the enemy, being overwhelmed by sheer numbers after desperate hand-to-hand fighting; we lost three guns and the standard of one of the most distinguished of our Caucasian regiments.[17] But Skobeleff succeeded in instilling into the minds of all that, whatever the loss or sufferings, they should continue to fight to the bitter end. So we won. This expedition showed, however, that the time had passed when columns composed of a few companies, like those under the command of Generals Cherniaeff and Kaufmann, could defeat greatly superior numbers of natives. Besides being very brave, the Turcomans were armed with captured Berdan rifles, with which they managed to inflict severe loss upon us. Of the small force of under 5,000 which attacked Geok Tepe, we lost about 1,000 in killed and wounded. The very last action in which our troops took part in the nineteenth century was the affair at Kushk in 1885,[18] when a small Russian force defeated the Afghans at the expense of forty-three men.

The result of the Turkish War of 1877–78 was that we regained the mouths of the Danube, and obtained possession of Batoum and Kars. In our contests with Turkey in the nineteenth century our primary object was the freeing of the various Balkan nationalities still subject to Turkey. But this question touched too closely the interests of the other nations of Europe, who opposed us, by force at Sevastopol, and diplomatically at the Berlin Congress. The lack of simplicity in our aims also militated against our success, for in our anxiety over the fate of the minor nationalities we lost sight of our own material interests. Consequently, the results attained in this century on the Black Sea did not on the whole correspond to the sacrifices we made. In the three wars with Turkey we put 1,700,000 men into the field (bringing the strength of the army up to 850,000 men in 1878), and lost in killed, wounded, and missing 126,000; sick, 243,000; a total of 369,000. If we take into account that we put 1,300,000 men into the field during the Crimean War, and that our casualties in killed, wounded, and missing were 120,000, and in sick 220,000, it appears that the acquisition of the Black Sea littoral, the mouths of the Danube, and the right to maintain a war fleet on the Black Sea, cost us 3,000,000 men put into the field, a loss in battle of 250,000, and 460,000 invalided. Yet, in spite of all these sacrifices, the gateway out of the Black Sea remained closed to us and open to our possible foes. In 1878 we were virtually in possession of this gateway, but now it is guarded against us not only by the Turks, but by the Germans. The task of preserving our position on the Mediterranean from the Black Sea has passed to the twentieth century.

To obtain possession of the Caucasus we had to fight twice with Persia in the nineteenth century, and were at war for sixty-two years with the mountaineers of the Caucasus. Before arriving at our present frontier in Central Asia we had been making expeditions for thirty years. Our operations both in the Caucasus and in Central Asia were productive of many gallant feats. Though in the former we crossed swords with a particularly brave opponent, and had to contend against extraordinary natural difficulties, we were in greatly superior numbers and far better organized than the enemy, and from a purely military point of view the contest did not present at all the same difficulties as the wars against the Turks. During our operations in Central Asia, from 1847 to 1881, we never had more than 15,000 men in the field at one time. The total number sent out was some 55,000, of whom we did not lose as many as 5,000 killed and wounded, and 8,000 sick. Our work in these two directions can be said to have been completed in the nineteenth century, for, as will be shown later, not only is no realignment of our present frontier necessary, but no change is possible without risking serious conflicts with Turkey, Persia, Afghanistan, and, probably, Great Britain. But the character of the Caucasian and Central Asian peoples will demand constant watchfulness and a strong hand in order to prevent racial and religious risings.

In spite of the small force maintained in Siberia, we considerably altered our frontier line in the east during the nineteenth century, and in the twentieth century we must be careful to preserve the peaceful relations which have lasted for 200 years between the Chinese and ourselves.

During that period we lost our possessions in America by making them over to the United States for a small sum of money. We also practically forced the Japanese to give us the southern portion of Saghalien in exchange for the Island of Kurile, and annexed Kamchatka, the Amur and Ussuri districts, and finally the Kuan-tung Peninsula. The Ussuri district was awarded to us by the Peking Treaty of 1860, more or less as a reward for the assistance we gave China in the drafting of the Peking Treaty with the French and British after their capture of Peking. Similarly, our movement in Manchuria was, so to speak, a quid pro quo for our mediation and intercession on China’s behalf after her unsuccessful war with Japan. Thus, while our advance to the Baltic and Black Seas cost two centuries of work by the army and many lives, we were able to reach the Pacific seaboard in 1897 without any bloodshed. But the success so easily gained was pregnant with the seeds of disaster.

During the last two centuries the expansion of the Empire implied a gradual realignment of all our frontiers, except on the greater part of that between us and China, which, from the valley of the Katuna to the mouth of the Schilka, remained unchanged for 200 years. The western frontier had moved from a distance of 300 miles from Moscow in 1700 to one of 670 miles. In the north-west and south we had reached natural boundaries in the Baltic and Black Seas. In the same period we had pushed forward our confines a considerable distance from the Caucasus and in Central Asia. The following figures show us roughly what the two main struggles, between the years 1700 and 1900, have cost us in men: In our efforts to reach the Black Sea we lost 750,000 out of 3,200,000[19] men put in the field against Turkey, while the conflict with Sweden for an approach to the Baltic cost us 700,000 out of the 1,800,000 combatants employed. This is sufficient to convey some idea of what sacrifices we must expect from our army in any attempt on our part to reach the shores of the Pacific and Indian Oceans during the present century. Moreover, the growth of our territory has forced us to include within it many and different foreign and even hostile races, and our frontier is to-day (1900),[20] from a military point of view, therefore less soundly established than it was in 1700. Though the population of the Empire has increased from 12,000,000 to 130,000,000, it must be remembered that we have now on and within our borders more than 40,000,000 who are only partly connected to us by racial ties, but are more or less alien both by religion and by their historical past.

Within the same period peace reigned in Russia for 71²⁄₃ years. During the remaining 128¹⁄₃ years there were thirty-three foreign and two internal wars, which can be classified, according to the political objects for which they were fought, in the following order:

1. For the expansion of the Empire—twenty-two wars, lasting about 101 years.

2. In defence of the Empire—four wars, lasting 4¹⁄₄ years.

3. In the interests of general European politics—seven wars and two campaigns, taking 10 years.

4. Civil wars—two wars, lasting 65 years.

5. For the suppression of revolts—6 years of military operations.

These conflicts exposed to the horrors of war some 10,000,000 of people, of whom about one-third were lost to the nation, nearly 1,000,000 being killed and wounded.

The gradual change in the war establishment of the army (excluding militia, second line troops, and reserve) can be traced from the following figures:

In 1700, with a population of 12,000,000, we had a war strength of 56,000 men—i.e., 0·47 per cent. of the population. In 1800, with a population of 35,000,000, we had a war strength of 400,000—i.e., 1·14 per cent. In 1900, with a population of 132,000,000, we had 1,000,000—i.e., 0·75 per cent. It must, however, be noted that the army had only just been formed in 1700, and that very shortly afterwards its war strength rose to 150,000—i.e., 1·3 per cent. Thus, notwithstanding the introduction of a new system of recruiting our forces (the law of universal military service), and their gradual growth, the proportionate burden imposed upon the nation in keeping the ranks filled was at the beginning of the twentieth century about one-half of what it had been 100 and 200 years before. This is all the more remarkable, as in 1700 and 1710 the army had not been properly developed, and was considerably below its strength in 1800, owing to the reforms of the Emperor Paul Petrovitch. The great difference between the peace and war establishments first arose in 1855, on account of the Crimean War, but it became permanent upon the introduction of universal military service.

As regards the work that would probably fall to the Russian armed forces in the twentieth century, I wrote the following in a report I made, as War Minister in 1901:

“With the limitations of human understanding, it is not possible to look ahead a hundred years, and we cannot, therefore, lay down what our army will have to undertake in the twentieth century; but by analyzing the past and reviewing our present position among the great Powers of the world, it is both possible and essential to estimate the nature of the work that will come before our army in the next few years at least. In the last two centuries Russia’s main work was connected with the expansion of the Empire. From this it seems that the matter of our frontiers is still the most urgent. It is, therefore, important to answer the following vital questions: Are we content with our present frontier? If not, where and why are we not? This is a matter which must not be considered only from our own point of view. If we are content with our position, and are not anxious to advance or retire our frontier, it is certainly improbable that we shall undertake any wars of aggression in the twentieth century; but in arriving, by great efforts and the immense sacrifices of 200 years, at a position satisfactory to ourselves, we have, perhaps, so placed our neighbours that it may be their object in the coming century to regain the territory of which they have been deprived. If so, the danger of war will not have been removed; it will have been changed in nature from that of an offensive to a defensive struggle.”

[CHAPTER II]

Russia’s frontiers in Europe and Asia—Conclusions as to their suitability to the needs of the Empire.

The second chapter of a report, made in 1900, when I was Minister for War, contained a strategical review of our frontiers. The general conclusions arrived at may be summarized as follows:

1. Swedish Frontier.[21]—This is 1,000 miles long, and traverses a rugged, inaccessible, and sparsely populated country. Starting from the extreme northern point of the Gulf of Bothnia, and running due north, it acts as a sharply defined ethnographical line between the Scandinavians on the west and the Finns on the east. The southern portion quite corresponds to our requirements, but the northern is too artificially drawn, and is disadvantageous to us, as it cuts Finland off from the Arctic Ocean, and gives all the coast to Norway. We would naturally like to see a realignment of this portion, but the advantages to be gained are too insignificant to warrant our quarrelling about them. Still, the situation on this section of our border cannot be considered to be all that is to be desired.

It has been shown in the preceding chapter what efforts and sacrifices have been made by Russia in order to gain access to the Baltic Sea and the Gulfs of Finland and Bothnia. We had to fight four wars with Sweden, and put 1,800,000 men into the field, and only won at last after losing some 130,000 men in killed and wounded. The main factor in our success was the influence on events exercised by Peter the Great, for it was his victory at Poltava which opened the way for us. At the beginning of the eighteenth century the Viborg province was, to a certain extent, Russianized: Russian villages and churches were to be found in it, and our language was the predominant tongue. In 1809, by the peaceful Treaty of Friederichsham, Finland passed for ever into the Empire. All that then remained to be done was to take advantage of our victories, and quietly but firmly incorporate the conquered province with the rest of Russia. But we did not do this. Being fully occupied elsewhere—in fortifying our foothold on the Black and Caspian Seas, in advancing towards the Pacific, in a long struggle in the Caucasus, in wars with Poland and in Central Asia—we paid little attention to what was going on in Finland, and rested content with the outward peacefulness, order, and submission of its people. The Finns took advantage of this, and from 1810 to 1890 unceasingly worked against us, hoping always to succeed in obtaining complete autonomy. In 1811 the Viborg province, won by us at so great a cost, was again made over to them, though they have not to this day completely obliterated in it all traces of Russian citizenship. Then, with the assistance of certain of our statesmen, we learned by degrees to forget that Finland had ever really been an integral portion of our Empire; we were gradually taught to feel that she ought to be administered according to the Swedish Constitution of 1772, and, finally, that she was not really a Russian province, but an autonomous State. In 1880 the law of universal military service was enacted. This gave Finland a national army—not a large one, it is true, but one which, by a well-thought-out system of reserves, enabled her to put in the field an armed force of 100,000 men near the Russian capital. Thus the Finns, without shedding a drop of blood, but by working cautiously, continuously, and systematically for eighty years, have succeeded in again shutting us out from the Gulfs of Finland and Bothnia, and have, to a great extent, robbed us of the fruits of our victories. Therefore, as the kingdom[22] of Norway and Sweden is weak, and as Finland, which stretches almost to the walls of the Russian capital, and screens not only it, but the whole of Northern Russia, is of immense importance to us, we ought, instead of planning any rectification of the Swedish frontier, to think how best to remove the causes of friction between the two countries. Sweden could only hope to take Finland from us if the Finns’ dream of independence came true; she could only risk operations against us in that country if the inhabitants joined her or were at least sympathetic. Consequently, to insure our safety on that frontier, it is our duty to smooth the way as much as possible for the early unification of Finland and Russia.

The following is a quotation from my report:

“However just our claims to the possession of Finland may be, it must be acknowledged that our mistaken policy with regard to her, lasting for eighty years, cannot be rectified all at once. Hasty action in dealing with matters which touch the domestic life of a people can only irritate and intensify difficulties. A firm and, at the same time, cautious attitude, extending, perhaps, over many years, is essential in order that we may be able in the end to take our proper place on the shores of the Gulfs of Bothnia and Finland. We must be particularly careful how we introduce any change into the people’s mode of life, and must frankly admit that Finland has reached a more advanced state of civilization than many of our provinces, although this has been done mainly at the expense of the Russian people. We should respect Finnish culture, in the hope that when Finland is united to us it will assist and not harm us.”

2. Western Frontier.—From Cape Polangen on the Baltic Coast to the mouth of the Danube in the Black Sea Russia marches for 738 miles with Germany, 761 with Austro-Hungary, and 467 with Roumania.

The northern and southern extremities of this frontier line are fairly straight. In the middle, from Raigrod to Litomerj, it runs due west, and bending round, continues for 390 miles to Myslowitz, along the southern and eastern frontiers of Germany, and thence for 213 miles along the northern frontiers of Austro-Hungary. It juts out into these States, forming our Warsaw Military District, important both by its position and its strategic significance. This area, formerly the kingdom of Poland, was joined to Russia by the Treaty of Vienna in 1815. By holding this area we can envelop the southern frontier of Eastern Prussia and the northern frontier of Galicia. Operating from this theatre, we can cut off those provinces from their neighbours by advancing towards the Baltic Sea on the north, or the difficult Carpathian range on the south. On the other hand, the district is itself liable to be cut off by offensive movements from north and south, directed on the fortress of Brest-Litovsk. Its position, therefore, makes it of decided importance. Were we more ready for war than our neighbours, it might constitute a source of strength to us. If, on the other hand, Germany and Austria together are able to throw greater numbers into the field, and can concentrate more rapidly than we can, it will merely be a weak spot.

The German frontier, 738 miles in length, follows no natural feature. Beyond it lies our nearest neighbour—a nation with whom we have been in close social and economic relationship ever since we got into touch with European life. At the present time (1900) five separate lines of railway connect different parts of Russia with Germany’s Baltic ports and with Berlin; our annual trade with her amounts to £32,200,000 (the average of the five years from 1893 to 1897), or, in other words, to 26·5 per cent. of all our foreign trade. The yearly exports (five-years average) amount to £16,400,000, or 25·1 per cent. of all our exports; the imports to £15,800,000 (28·6 per cent. of our imports). In 1897 alone our German exports totalled £17,520,000, and our imports £17,980,000. Thus the economic connection between the two countries is very close. Our interests are reciprocal, and, consequently, economic reasons alone necessitate a preservation on our part of the present friendly relations. But it is of no use disguising the fact that the part played by the German Government at the Berlin Congress gave us reason to change a policy which had always been favourable to Germany, and her entry into the Triple Alliance, which was directed against us, was the origin of our rapprochement with France. The whole of the frontier is artificial, and quite exposed to invasion from either side. From the Baltic to Filippovo it acts as an ethnographical dividing-line between the Lithuanian races in the east and the Germans, German Lithuanians, and Poles on the west, and separates our Poles from the German Poles. Though there exists no obvious natural boundary between us and Germany, the racial one has the same effect as a natural boundary. By a systematic policy Germany has succeeded in so Teutonizing the one Slav country of Eastern Prussia that it now constitutes one of the most loyal provinces of the House of Hohenzollern. The same policy, with less successful results, however, is being applied to Posen. On our side we are making great efforts to colonize the Warsaw Military District and the north-western countries bordering on Germany, so as to bind them closer to us. If we have not been so successful in our efforts as our neighbours, it is mainly due to the backward state of our civilization. Our vacillations, also, as to the best policy whereby to attain the desired result are responsible for the slow progress made.

By the expenditure of vast sums of money, Germany has made ready in the most comprehensive sense to march rapidly across our borders with an army of 1,000,000 men. She has seventeen lines of railway (twenty-three tracks) leading to our frontiers, which would enable her to send to the front more than 500 troop-trains daily. She can concentrate the greater part of her armed forces (fourteen to sixteen army corps) on our frontier within a few days of the declaration of war; while, apart from this question of speedy mobilization, she has at her command far greater technical resources, such as light railways, artillery, ordnance, and engineering stores, particularly for telegraphs, mobile siege-parks, etc., than we have. She has also made most careful preparation for a determined defence of her own border provinces, especially those of Eastern Prussia. The first-class fortresses of Thorn, Königsberg, and Posen are improved yearly, entrenched camps are built at the most important junctions, and material lies ready stacked for the rapid semi-permanent fortification of field positions.

The crossing-places on the Vistula have been placed in a state of defence, as have also the various towns and large villages. The whole population, indeed, is making ready for a national struggle. Since the Crimean War we also have worked hard to prepare the Vilna and Warsaw areas for hostilities; but as Germany has done considerably more in thirty years than we have in fifty, she has outdistanced us. Her principal and most overwhelming superiority lies in her railways; to her seventeen lines running to our frontier we can only oppose five. This advantage is overwhelming, and gives to her and Austria a superiority which can be counterbalanced neither by large numbers nor bravery. The fact remains that Germany, by spending milliards—part of which were supplied by the war indemnity of 1871—has prepared for hostilities, both in the shape of an energetic offensive and also a determined defensive. If a war should happen to go against us, she might attempt to annex the whole of the Warsaw Military District, or even part of the Vilna District (on the left bank of the Dwina), for the peoples of these countries might considerably augment her military strength. On the other hand, those who analyze the possible consequences of such a war cannot see what advantage Germany would derive from such expansion. It is incredible that 100,000,000 Russians would ever become reconciled to the loss of territory which is bound to the Fatherland by historical ties, and which has cost so much Russian blood. Such thinkers are convinced, on the contrary, that we should concentrate ourselves on winning it back at the very first chance. If we were better prepared for war, or in a case where Germany’s main forces were diverted in another direction, the Warsaw Military District would constitute a place d’armes, cutting deep in between her and Austria, whence we might, with equal ease, advance rapidly on either Berlin or Vienna. The former is 200 and the latter 213 miles from our frontier; St. Petersburg and Moscow are 533 and 733 miles respectively from the German, and 900 and 800 from the Austrian, frontier. If, however, we were successful in such a campaign, and sought to expand the Empire further, military considerations would point to the annexation of the whole of Eastern Prussia up to the Vistula. Astride this river, with possession of both its banks and of its mouths and of the River Niemen, we should hold a very commanding position as regards Germany, and should have considerably improved our military frontier. But these advantages of position would be more than outweighed by the many disadvantages attending such an increase of territory. There would arise for us a question of lost provinces comparable to that of Alsace-Lorraine; but it would be of a more acute nature, for the German nation would always be watching for an opportunity to regain—by war if necessary—territory with which the ruling dynasty was so intimately connected. It may be assumed, therefore—

That, taking the armed forces of both nations as they exist to-day, and making allowance for their comparative readiness, an invasion of our territory by German armies is more probable than a Russian invasion of Germany;

That an invading German army would meet with fewer difficulties than ours if we marched into Prussia;

That certain territory might be taken from us;

That we might take Prussian territory from Germany, but that the population of the conquered provinces would always be hostile to us, on account of the difference in their state of civilization, national ties, and traditional sentiment;

That both Russia and Germany are such great nations that neither could possibly accept a loss of territory nor rest until it had been regained; and

“That, taking everything into consideration, it would not suit Germany, and it would certainly not suit us, to go to war for the sake of altering the existing frontier.”

3. Austro-Hungarian Frontier.—Austro-Hungary, 243,043 square miles in area, is larger than Germany, and in 1900 its population was 45,600,000; but while the German nation is exceedingly homogeneous and patriotic, the people of Austro-Hungary consist of many races. Of its population, 24·1 per cent. is German; the numerous Slav groups comprise 47 per cent. (Bohemians, Moravians, and Slovaks, 16·9 per cent.; Croatian-Servians, 11 per cent.; Poles, 8 per cent.; Rusins, 8 per cent.; Slavonians, 3 per cent.); Hungarians, 16·2 per cent.; Roumanians, 6·6 per cent.; Jews, 4·5 per cent.; and Italians, 1·6 per cent. As regards the feeling of these various races towards Russia, the Germans who live at a distance from our frontiers are not hostile; the Hungarians, if not open enemies, are, at any rate, unfriendly on account of the part we took in suppressing the rebellion of 1849, and their latent dislike is fanned by the greatest of the Slav groups, the Poles. The rest of the Slavs are sympathetic with their kinsmen in Russia, but the main motive for this sentiment is fear lest they should be absorbed by the Germans or Magyars.

The Austrian frontiers are nowhere simple, but ever since the conclusion of the Triple Alliance she has turned her attention—in a military sense—almost exclusively to her Russian frontier. On glancing at the map, one’s first thought is that the natural boundary between the two countries should run along the Carpathian range, but the actual frontier is a long way on the Russian side of it. Galicia forms, so to speak, a glacis of this main obstacle (the Carpathians) running down towards Russia, and it has recently grown up into a splendidly prepared entrenched camp, connected to the other provinces of Austro-Hungary by numerous roads across the Carpathians. It is strongly fortified and stocked with supplies of every nature, both for a protracted defence or an advance in force into Russia. Austria can now concentrate 1,000,000 men in this area within a very short space of time. For 760 miles we have a common frontier, and the upper reaches of the Vistula—from Nepolomnitsa to Zavikhost—and a small stretch of the Dniester, with its tributary, the Zbruoz, form a natural boundary in this direction. These rivers, however, possess no strategic value. The frontier is crossed by four lines of railway:

(a) At Granitsa, on the Warsaw-Ivangorod line.

(b) At Radziviloff.

(c) At Volochisk.

(d) At Novoselits.

Our economic relations with Austro-Hungary are not so important as those with Germany. For the five years 1893–97 the average value of our trade has amounted to only £5,800,000 per annum, or 4·5 per cent. of our total trade; of this, the exports are £3,500,000, and the imports £2,320,000 (4·8 and 4·2 per cent. of the respective totals). In 1897 our exports were £3,900,000, and imports £19,000,000. Though almost half the races of Austro-Hungary come of kindred stock to our people, and though much of our blood was shed in the nineteenth century in order to maintain the reigning house of Austria on the throne, war between the two nations is by no means impossible in the event of a general European conflagration, for brothers by blood and religion will march against brothers. Such a war, which would, except in the imagination of a few Polish dreamers, be a calamity for all the Slav races, could not be popular with the Austrian-Germans, however much their interests may be opposed to ours. In Austro-Hungary it is the Hungarians and Poles alone who hate us, having, as is well known, many and good reasons for siding with our possible foes. Upon the subject of a change of our frontier after war with Austria, I wrote in my report of 1900 as follows:

“In the event of a successful war with us, the Austro-Hungarian Government—under pressure from the Poles—would probably insist on the annexation to Galicia of those Russian border-lands where the Poles predominate. Some of the Polish and Hungarian patriots even aspire to moving the Russian frontier back to Brest and the Dnieper.

“It is certain that Russia would never accept any loss of territory, even after defeat, and would do her utmost to win back as quickly as possible any which had been taken. On the other hand, after a successful war against Austro-Hungary, and the probably ensuing break-up of that Empire, Russia will be confronted with the problem of whether she should take more territory, and if so, what? There would then recur the cry for the ‘rectification of the frontier.’ The Carpathian Mountains seem formed by Nature for a boundary, so that the whole of Galicia might become part of Russia.

“But we must put the position before ourselves clearly and in good time. Is such an increase of land and population necessary to us? Should we be the stronger for such annexation, or, on the other hand, should we be creating a source of weakness and anxiety for ourselves? Seventy or a hundred years ago a transfer of Galicia might very likely have been of advantage and have added to our strength, though even that is problematical, for it is by no means certain that Austria would not have tried to win it back; she would have had an excellent opportunity in 1855. But now, after Galicia has for so long existed apart from us, it could only be torn from Austria by force, and therefore unwillingly. Neither the Poles of Galicia nor its Russian population are anxious to become Russian subjects. We must not lose sight of the fact that for the Slavs of Austria, including the Rusins, we can only be a means to an end (emancipation), not an end in ourselves. Even the Bulgarians and Servians might turn against us. Nor are the Austrian Slavs in real need of our help. Every year they are gaining, by persistency and peaceful methods, more and more civil rights, which are gradually placing them on an equality with the Germans and the Hungarians. Notwithstanding their grave economic position; notwithstanding the grip the Jews are getting on the land, or the taxes, which are heavier than in Russia, and the inequality of rights of Poles and Rusins, the people of Galicia consider themselves far more advanced than their Russian neighbours. In their opinion it would be a retrograde step to become Russian subjects. This is also a point we must always keep clearly in our minds, lest we imagine that we have only to move into Eastern Galicia for the people to rise against the Austrians—their eternal oppressors. If, on the contrary, we allow ourselves to be led away by the prospect of rounding off our possessions by means of natural boundaries, we shall certainly lay up endless trouble and expense for ourselves in the future. Joined to Russia, Galicia might in a lesser degree become an Alsace-Lorraine for us, just as Eastern Prussia would be.”

In the matter of railway development the Austrians also have left us far behind. While they, by means of eight lines of rail (ten tracks), can run 260 trains up to the frontier every twenty-four hours, we can only convey troops up to the same point on four lines! As any of their troops on the frontier would be in advance of the Carpathians, this range was formerly looked upon as an obstacle to retirement and to communication between Galicia and the rest of Austria. But in the last ten years it has been pierced by five lines of railway, and preparations have been made to lay three more. Notwithstanding our unreadiness, the Austrians, even if egged on by the Germans, would not lightly attack us, for they well know that they would meet a determined foe and be committed to a national war. On the other hand, we must not deceive ourselves with any idea that we could easily defeat the Austrians. Their army, which is of great size and splendidly equipped, would base itself upon the strong entrenched camp in Galicia, and could, if properly commanded, throw superior numbers into the field against us. I recorded the following conclusions upon the Austrian frontier in my report of 1900:

“It would be advantageous to neither Austria nor Russia to engage in war in order to bring about an alteration of the existing frontier.

“It is satisfactory to be able to draw such conclusions regarding our frontiers with these two powerful States. Having no desire for our neighbours’ land, and being at the same time quite prepared to make any sacrifice for the defence of our own country, we may hope that if we on our side have no reason to force on a war, our neighbours will, on their side, use every means to avoid beginning one with us.”

4. Roumanian Frontier.—For 466 miles south of Austro-Hungary we march with Roumania. The frontier runs along the River Pruth and the northern branch of the delta of the Danube. It is there formed by a natural line of water; it fully meets our requirements, political and military, and therefore calls for no change. The young kingdom of Roumania, consisting of some 51,000 square miles, with a population of 5,000,000, is one of the second-class Powers of Europe. Our trade with her amounts roughly (taking the average from 1893–97) to £1,020,000 per annum, constituting O·8 per cent. of our foreign trade. Our exports amount, on the average, to £750,000 per annum (1·3 per cent. of our total exports). Two lines of railway run to the frontier from our side: one to Ungens, whence it continues on to Jassy; the other to Reni, whence communication extends to Galatz by road, there being no bridge across the Pruth. Although Roumania owes her very existence to Russia, the close relations into which she has entered with Germany, and still more with Austro-Hungary, and her evident anxiety to develop her army and fortify her frontier on our side, point in no uncertain manner to the possibility of her taking up arms against us in a European war. The reason may be that she wishes, in the event of such a conflict, to wrest from us Bessarabia, half the population of that province being Roumanian.

5. In Trans-Caucasia we march for 325 miles with Turkey and 465 with Persia. The territory of the former is in three continents, and amounts to 1,581,400 square miles, with a population of 40,000,000. Our trade with her (taking the same years as before) reaches £2,110,000 per annum, or 2·1 per cent. of our total foreign trade. The frontier was fixed after our victorious campaign of 1877–78. As it runs for the most part along natural boundaries, such as watersheds, it not only effectually guarantees the integrity of our possessions from any Turkish attempt at aggression, but it gives us an advantageous route by which to advance on Erzeroum, the most important point in Asia Minor, and the only fortress of any strength nearer than Scutari. Thus, the present frontier may be accepted as being quite satisfactory from our point of view, and no change is necessary.

In Europe we have no long land frontier with Turkey, as Roumania and Bulgaria lie between us. The only point at which we are in direct touch with her on the mainland is in the Caucasus, and this is the only point where we can engage her by a direct advance across the frontier. But though we are content with our position, we must not forget that Turkey, given a favourable opportunity, might make an effort to regain the territory we have taken from her. To make our position on her frontier safe, we should pacify the Caucasus, improve the conditions of the people and our organization of troops there, and strengthen our command of the Black Sea.

6. East of Turkey we march with Persia for 465 miles in Trans-Caucasia, to the east again for 275 along the Caspian Sea, and further still to the east on land for 593 miles up to Zulfikar on the Heri Rud. Including the Caspian shore, we have a common frontier with Persia of 1,333 miles.[23] Our trade with her has gradually increased in the last ten years from £2,000,000 in 1888 to £3,500,000 in 1897. Of all our land-borne commerce, this is only exceeded by our trade with Germany, Austria, and China. In nine years our exports have risen from £900,000 to £1,600,000, and our imports from £1,100,000 to £1,900,000. Our exports have, however, been artificially stimulated by very heavy rebates on the export tax on sugar and cotton, and the imports diminished by the high taxes on tea brought through Persia (from China and India) and an almost prohibitive tariff on foreign manufactured goods. Her situation on the Indian Ocean, upon the shortest route to India from Europe, combined with the undeveloped state of her resources and her military weakness, makes Persia the natural arena for any struggle between the great Powers for predominance in the Middle East. Hitherto Russia and Great Britain have been the principal competitors, but Germany is now apparently ready to join in the race, for she is making serious efforts to establish her footing in Asia Minor. The fact that we are neighbours over an immense length; our long-standing peaceful relationship;[24] the privileges we enjoy from the Treaty of Gulistan, which give us a word in the internal administration of the country, and permit us to maintain exclusive supremacy on the Caspian, which washes the defenceless shores of Northern Persia; and, finally, our complete military superiority, can be said to confer at present on Russia an effective political predominance in the country. As regards economic predominance, we have in our hands only the trade of the three northern provinces; throughout the rest of the country it does not belong to us. In the southern provinces it is almost entirely in the hands of Great Britain. By seizing points on the coast of the Indian Ocean, by constructing railways[25] and developing her trade with Persia, Great Britain apparently aspires not only to make certain of supremacy in the south, but gradually to capture the trade of the central provinces, and even to compete with us in the north. Germany will also soon be a serious competitor of ours; she already controls the important trade route from Trebizond to Tabriz. The following is the conclusion I recorded in the report I have quoted from above:

“Our Persian frontier has been settled and delimitated along its whole length, and neither for strategic nor other reasons is any change desirable; nor do we wish to obtain any further concessions of land from Persia. On the contrary, not only would the acquirement of fresh districts filled by alien peoples, and the consequent expense of administration, be of no advantage to us, but any action likely to undermine the friendly feelings now underlying all our dealings with the Persians would be distinctly detrimental to our interests. From the military standpoint, there appears to be no need to realign the frontier. It separates kindred races only for a short distance—i.e., the Persians and Turkomans in Lenkoran and along the Artek. Following natural landmarks for the rest of its length, it acts as a racial division—in Trans-Caucasia between the Armenians and Turks; in Azerbaijan between the Persians, Turko-Tartars, and the Kurds; in Central Asia between the Turkomans and Russians of Trans-Caucasia, and the Kurds and Persians of Khorasan. For the last fifty years our trade with Persia, taking imports and exports, has increased enormously, and it is now our duty to preserve and develop it, and to take every step in order that the northern markets may, year by year, become more completely dominated by us; but a further growth of trade is only possible if the people of the country feel secure and internal order is maintained. By the conquest of the Turkomans twenty years ago we guaranteed peaceful development to the people of Khorasan, and we are now reaping the fruits of our victory at Geok Tepe, for our trade in Khorasan alone amounts to about £10,000,000 a year. If, therefore, the necessity should arise in the future, it will certainly be our duty to assist the Persian Government to maintain order in those portions of country nearest to our border. Consequently, our most urgent duties in Persia are, at present, the maintenance of order in the provinces nearest us, and of our command of the markets in the north of the country.”

7. Eastwards again from the Persian frontier runs that of Afghanistan, which has not long been delimitated. It is 1,259 miles long, and traverses a desert as far as the Oxus, and then runs along that river. This frontier is satisfactory, and well defined.

Bounded on the west by Persia, on the south and east by Baluchistan and the Indian Empire, Afghanistan contains the immense range of the Hindu Kush Mountains, with their numerous ramifications. In size it is some 217,800 square miles, with a population of 5,000,000 to 6,000,000, of which 56 per cent. are Afghan and 44 per cent. non-Afghan tribes. As it lies between our territory in Central Asia and Great Britain’s Indian Empire, it has long been an object of interest to the British, who have desired to establish in it an exclusive supremacy. Being afraid of an attempt on our part to march on India, they have followed our every move in Central Asia with a vigilant eye. So long ago as 1873 they tried to arrive at an agreement with us whereby, if they refrained from interference in Bokhara, we, on our side, should undertake to abstain from any intervention in Afghanistan. Since then they have moved forward several steps on the frontiers of the country, and have even annexed a portion of it. But in proportion as they have advanced beyond the Indus, they have, instead of assuring more peace upon the border, met greater difficulties, with the result that their present position on the north-west frontier of India is unsettled and unsatisfactory. Afghanistan has not only not become British, but under twenty years of Abdur Rahman’s energetic administration has become stronger—so much so that it is now really an independent empire,[26] with a sound military organization. As regards the country’s sentiments, it is as hostile to us as it is to the British.

Since 1873 we also have greatly added to our possessions in Central Asia. We conquered Turkomania and the Khanate of Khokand, defeated the inhabitants of Khiva, and turned it into a trading centre; and although we did not annex Bokhara, by running a railway through it and including it within our fiscal area we secured absolute supremacy. In this way we pushed our frontiers on to Persia and Afghanistan, and, having drawn our boundary along natural features, we now possess a clearly defined line along the whole of which we are blessed with peace. The conclusion I came to regarding the Afghan frontier was expressed as follows in my report of 1900:

“If we compare the success of British policy in India since 1873 with the results of our progress in Central Asia, we have reason to congratulate ourselves. We are at present better and more peacefully established than they are. There would not be any advantage in changing our present position for a worse one, which we would certainly do if we annexed part of Afghanistan. Since the non-Afghan peoples of Northern Afghanistan wish to be taken over by us, it would seem natural that we should annex Afghan Turkestan and the Herat province. Such annexation would bring us over 2,000,000 new subjects, of whom the majority are industrious and skilled tillers of the soil; would advance our frontier to the Hindu Kush, which has long been the dream of many Russians; and would give us possession of the far-famed Herat, a place most undoubtedly of great strategical importance. At first sight the gain seems indisputable; but from a closer study of the subject, it is clear that the result of the realization of these schemes would be to create for ourselves immense difficulties in the present and possible danger in the future. In the first place, the geographical boundaries would not coincide with the ethnographical. For, in moving our frontier up to the edge of the Hindu Kush, we should be forced to take over tribes of Afghan descent, and yet at the same time exclude some non-Afghan races kindred to those we had already taken over. This in itself bristles with difficulties. Where the inhabitants of the valleys are peasants, Uzbegs, and Tajiks, they would probably submit to us without opposition, but the hillmen, even those of non-Afghan descent, would fight fiercely for their liberty. Even after conquering them, we, like the British in India to-day, would have no peace. Continual risings would take place along our new frontier, the hillmen from Afghanistan proper would begin to raid just as the tribes do on the Indian border, and continual expeditions would be necessary. We should be compelled in the end, just as the British have been, to move the frontier forward repeatedly, and to absorb more territory. So it would go on until our frontier eventually coincided with that of British India. Immense sums of money would be required for the organization and administration of the country taken over, for the construction of roads and fortified positions for large numbers of troops, and to meet the cost of expeditions, etc. Finally, it must be remembered that the people of Afghan Turkestan and Herat, who now look on us as their liberators from Afghan oppression, might, when taken over, change their feeling towards us. The consequence would be that, instead of keeping neighbours well disposed towards us, and ready to assist us when called upon, we should be acquiring fresh responsibilities in the shape of discontented subjects, who would require military garrisons for their control.”

In 1878—i.e., twenty-seven years ago—when I was in the Asiatic Section of the Headquarters Staff, I was convinced of the necessity for Russia and Great Britain to work together harmoniously in Asia, and I was opposed to every plan of offensive operations towards India. After our brush with the Afghans at Kushk in 1885, when relations with Great Britain became very strained, and a rupture might have occurred at any moment, we made preparations to concentrate an army in Central Asia in case the British should declare war. I was nominated for the appointment of Chief of the Staff to this force, and at the committee meetings, over which General Vannovski presided, I expressed my opinion openly as to the necessity for a peaceful agreement with Great Britain. I pointed out that the interests of the two Powers on the continent of Asia were identical, for both had to reckon with the natural desire of conquered nationalities to overthrow their masters, and that it would therefore be far more rational for our troops in Central Asia to assist Great Britain in her struggle with the local peoples than for us to advance towards India with the object of raising it against the British. When I was in command of the Trans-Caspian district from 1890 to 1898, I did everything within my power to maintain peace on the Afghan border, and, after I had succeeded in obtaining the construction of a railway to Kushk, I urged the necessity of coming to an agreement with Great Britain, so that, by joining up the railway systems of India and Turkestan, we might once for all put an end to our rivalry in the Middle East. I still continued to advocate an agreement after becoming War Minister, and my résumé on the Afghan frontier in the report already quoted concluded with the following words:

“I cannot but express my firm conviction that the connection of the Indian and Central Asian railway systems by a line from Chaman to Kushk, via Kandahar and Herat, would create a line of international importance. Such a line would in the future assist the peaceful delimitation of our sphere of influence in Afghanistan, and if Great Britain will abandon her policy of everywhere putting impediments in our path, would facilitate a rapprochement[27] based upon the mutual interests of the two nations. Absolutely convinced as I am that the possession of India would in twenty years’ time be a misfortune and an insupportable burden for Russia, I consider it both natural and right that we should establish an entente with Great Britain, so that in case of any great rising in India we should be on the side of the British. The twentieth century must see a great conflict between the Christian and the other nationalities in Asia. It is essential for the welfare of humanity that we should in such case be allied with the Christian Power against the pagan races.”

My opinions on the Chinese, Korean, and Japanese frontiers I will, on account of their importance, quote verbatim, where possible, from my report:

“From the Pamirs almost to the Pacific, we march with China for 6,074 miles. China is about 4,267,000 square miles in extent, and contains about 400,000,000 inhabitants, so that it has the largest population in the world. The great mass of the people are Buddhists, about 20,000,000 are Mohammedans, and about 1,150,000 Christians. Our trade with China, which has been gradually increasing during the last ten years, has risen from £3,100,000 in 1888 to £4,560,000 in 1897.

“Notwithstanding the immense length of this frontier, our exports are insignificant; but it is to be hoped that the railway-line through Manchuria, with its branch to Port Arthur, will alter this unprofitable state of affairs in our favour.[28] Although we have had relations with China for two centuries, and although our frontiers are identical for over 6,000 miles, they have not once been violated by military operations. The number of troops kept in Siberia has always been exceedingly small. This has been due to the generally peaceful disposition of the Chinese, to the position of the River Amur, and other natural obstacles—lofty mountain ranges and vast steppes—and to the absence of any really close tie between China and her subject races nearest to our frontier.

“Our occupation of the Ussuri district necessitated raising new bodies of troops for garrison purposes. Finally, the Chino-Japanese War and its consequences compelled us to take further and rapid action to strengthen our forces in the Far East. This war showed up the extreme political weakness of China on the one hand, and the great power and energy of Japan on the other—facts of immense significance in East Asian affairs. Our frontier with China is of such length that we naturally cannot remain indifferent to this development. Japan betrayed an intention of taking possession of Korea, our neighbour; we were therefore compelled, by force of circumstances, to establish a sort of temporary protectorate over it, and, by an agreement with Japan, Korea was declared to be independent, and was ostensibly left to itself. But we did not confine ourselves to this. For the great services we had rendered China in the war, we obtained on commercial pretexts a concession for a railway through Manchuria from Trans-Baikalia to Vladivostok, and as the immediate consequence of this, we found it necessary to try and get a concession of part of the Kuan-tung Peninsula, with the ports of Dalny and Port Arthur.[29] This forward policy compelled us to augment our forces in the east with troops withdrawn from European Russia, thereby weakening, to a certain extent, our position in the west.[30] Notwithstanding the more active line we have taken up, and the inclusion of the whole of Manchuria within our sphere of influence, we must remember that we are at present quite content with our frontier, and that to change it by the annexation of any portion of Manchuria, for instance, would be in the highest degree undesirable.

“On the extreme western side our boundary, running along the lofty spurs of the Tian-Shan Mountains, is so strong by nature that, although the people of Kashgaria on one side of it are racially akin to our native population in Eastern Turkestan on the other, there would be no gain in altering the boundary. Further north the border-line bisects the basin of the Ili, peopled partly by tribes of the same race. Annexation of the fertile province of Kuldja, projecting like a strong bastion to the east, would, on the contrary, have been of some advantage to us, as it would have facilitated defence, and would have acted as a menace to the Chinese. Such an advantage is of minor importance, however, and not enough to warrant impairing our relations with China. All the way to Manchuria the boundary-line runs across the Mongolian steppes, where its position is sufficiently strong for us to cope both with local conditions and with China’s lack of control over her border tribes. Finally, in the extreme east—in Manchuria—the frontier is less assured, and, owing to the construction of a line of railway to connect the Ussuri district with Trans-Baikalia by the shortest route through Manchuria, our position has become disquieting.

“As regards the position of the Chinese province between the Amur district on the north, the Ussuri district on the north-east, and the Kuan-tung Peninsula on the south, the question naturally arises: What shall we do with it in the future? To annex it would be very unprofitable, not to mention the fact that the seizure of this—one of the most important provinces of China—would for ever destroy the ancient peaceful relationship between China and ourselves. It would result in many Manchurians settling in our territory, in the Amur and Ussuri districts, which now are only thinly peopled by Russians, and our weak colonies would be swamped by the flowing tide of yellow. Eastern Siberia would become quite un-Russian, and it must be remembered that it is the Russians alone who form, and will form in the future, the reliable element of the population. Such an inrush of Chinese into the Pri-Amur district would undoubtedly improve the standard of its agriculture and convert its deserts into flowering gardens; but, at the same time, surplus land in Siberia, every acre of which we ought to preserve for our own people, would be passing into the hands of non-Russian races. The population of Russia of the twentieth century will need it all. As this will probably amount to some 400,000,000 in the year 2000, we must begin now to set aside land for at least a quarter of this number. It would, therefore, be preferable if Manchuria remained an integral part of China. But if we decide against its annexation, we ought undoubtedly to take every means to obtain absolute commercial control, consolidating our position by constructing lines through it, such as the Trans-Baikal-Vladivostok and Port Arthur railways. We should not obtain any further concessions from China, but our policy towards her in the near future should be—

“1. Not to permit any increase in, nor development of the training of, her armed forces, particularly in the north, and to forbid the presence of foreign military instructors in that quarter.

“2. To develop our social and commercial relations with her as much as possible, in the northern provinces to commence with.

“3. To avoid as far as possible any dispute on her soil with other European nations, to insure which we should confine our attentions to North China, and undertake no railway enterprises south of the Great Wall, more especially in the Yang-tsze Valley.

“The last portion of our frontier marches with Korea, a country with an area of 80,000 square miles, and containing a population of at least 11,000,000, amongst whom are only some 2,000 to 10,000 Chinese, 45,000 to 55,000 Japanese, and some 300 Europeans.[31] The position of Korea is peculiar; she is subordinate both to China and Japan, and yet, since 1897—by the agreement between ourselves and the latter Power—her independence has been acknowledged. Extreme caution is therefore demanded in our dealings with and our policy concerning her. Though we feel no necessity to annex the country ourselves, we can under no circumstances consent to the establishment in it of an energetic Japan or any other Power. For the present, a Korea, weak, independent, but under our protection, is for us the simplest solution of the question. The immediate establishment of a Protectorate would not only necessitate all sorts of expense, but might drag us unprepared into war. And so in this case, just as in Persia and in North China, we must work systematically towards gradually acquiring absolute economic control of the country. The occupation of the Kuan-tung Peninsula, the permanent fortification of our position there, and the completion of the roads running through Manchuria, are steps in advance, and important ones, in this problem of the future. At present we are in no way ready to take an active line in Korea, and must, at any cost, avoid stirring up a conflict with Japan on account of Korean affairs.

“We are certain to encounter Japan’s strenuous opposition in our endeavour to obtain control of the Korean markets, even if it be only in the shape of political or mere trade competition, and if we cannot altogether avoid a conflict, we shall in all probability have to fight her in the beginning of the twentieth century.”

From this very brief survey of our frontiers it is seen how we are for over 11,000 miles in touch with nine States, and nowhere wish any realignment of our frontier. This is highly satisfactory, and if we are content with our present boundaries, and concern ourselves in the present century solely with the consolidation of the position we have gained during the past 200 years, the danger of war with our neighbours seems remote. For the present generation such a course is absolutely essential. Immense were the sacrifices made by our forebears in adding to our great Empire, but the struggle which is even now necessary to preserve the existence of our frontier regions is so severe that it is retarding still further the naturally slow economic development of the mass of the people in Russia itself. Our border districts exist, in fact, at the expense of the interior of the country, and have up to the present been a source of weakness rather than of strength to the Empire at large. So over-burdened is the present generation with the many requirements necessary for their administration and defence, that to undertake at the same time any fresh foreign enterprises may soon become quite beyond our powers. But with a growing population, will our Empire be content with the existing frontiers, or will Russia have to solve further problems of expansion? And what will they be? Such was the question I put to myself in submitting my report. I considered it natural that Russia, “without increasing her extent either in Europe or Asia,” should try in the twentieth century to gain access to warm seas, which are ice-free all the year round, such as the inner Mediterranean seas and the outlets which are open all the year round into the Pacific and Indian Oceans. As regards the difficulties and dangers in undertaking these schemes I said:

“However natural our wishes may be to possess an outlet from the Black Sea and access to the Indian or to the Pacific Oceans, such aims could not be realized without inflicting grave injury upon the interests of almost the whole world. In fact, so much is this the case, that in the pursuit of such aims we must be prepared to fight combinations of any of the following nations: Great Britain, Germany, Austria, Turkey, China, and Japan. It is not the actual move on our part to any of the above-mentioned places that is feared by others, but the consequence of such a move—if successful. The possession of the Bosphorus and the passage into the Mediterranean would enable us to take decisive action as regards the Egyptian question, and to make the Suez Canal international,[32] and our presence on the Indian Ocean would be a continual menace to India. But the chief disturbing element in the minds of the more advanced nations of Europe and America (which are now the factories and workshops of the whole world) would be the fear of our competition in the marts of the world. Having in our hands the main lines of railway connecting the Pacific Ocean and the Baltic Sea, with feeder lines from the Bosphorus, the Indian and Pacific Oceans, we could, with our inexhaustible natural wealth, control the industry of the globe.”

Such has been the recent growth of armaments among all nations that the difficulties which will confront us in any effort to reach warm seas in this century will absolutely put into the shade any faced by us in the past, and the powers of the present generation may well prove unequal to the effort required to gain what is, after all, only necessary for our children’s children. Indeed, a comparison of fighting strengths leads to the inevitable conclusion that not only is the present generation too weak to undertake fresh tasks to secure what is necessary for the existence of the 400,000,000 of our future population, but that the relative greater power of our probable enemies makes it extremely difficult to guarantee the integrity of the Empire. The following is the reference to this point in my report:

“Within the last fifty years the military resources of our neighbours have so increased, and Germany and Austria, more especially, are so much better prepared to invade us, that our western frontier is now exposed to greater danger than it has ever been in the whole of our history.

“Our military position on the Turkish frontier also is no longer as favourable as it was in the beginning of the nineteenth century. This is particularly the case now that Germany seems to be taking so much interest in Turkish affairs. Again, the defence of the Caucasus has also become difficult. So, too, on the Afghan frontier we now have powerful neighbours, who in organization and armament are more on a level with our troops in Turkestan than they were in the beginning of the last century. An Afghan invasion of our territory is by no means an impossibility, a fact which complicates considerably the defence of Turkestan.

“China is at present alone in having no army worthy of serious consideration, and she is impotent against us in the Pri-Amur[33] or Kuan-tung districts. But in the place of a weak China has arisen a powerful Japan, whose armed forces may prove a danger to our troops in the Far East until sufficient reinforcements can be sent out.

“Still, notwithstanding our great length of frontier to be defended and the immense development in the military power of our neighbours, the difficulties in the way of defeating us on our own soil are so obvious and so great that, if we confine our actions to self-defence, no enemy will be likely to attack us.”

Finally, an analysis of the strength and resources of our nearest neighbours forced me to the conclusion that “our western frontier has never in the whole history of Russia been exposed to such danger in the event of a European war as it is now, and that accordingly the attention of the War Department in the first years of the present century should be confined to strengthening our position on that side, and not diverted to aggressive enterprises elsewhere.”

[CHAPTER III]

The expansion in numbers of our army in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, the suitability of our peace and war establishments, and the growth of our neighbours’ forces—The growing complication of our defence problems towards the end of the last century.

In the year 1700 our forces numbered 56,000; in 1800, 400,000; while in 1894 our war strength amounted to 2,000,000; but the growth in the nineteenth century was attended by great fluctuations as compared with the gradual increase in the previous 100 years. The universal dissatisfaction with the results of the Crimean War first brought about the awakening of public feeling which ended in the emancipation of the serfs, and the great efforts in the direction of economy made at that time led directly to the reduction of the army. Even while the guns were booming at Königgrätz in 1866, our standing army in Europe was cut down from 600,000 to 372,000 men. It was not long, however, before the Franco-German War opened our eyes to possible dangers from the west. Up to that time we had been living upon tradition, upon experiences of the days when war was waged by standing armies, and did not call for the mobilization of the whole of a nation’s forces; when armies moved by road, and several months elapsed between the declaration of war and the first decisive engagement. By her rapid concentration and by her ability to throw an immense army so quickly across the French frontier in 1870, Germany showed also what she would be capable of doing in our direction. We had for a long time neglected to keep up the fortifications on our western frontier, lest we should give Germany cause to suspect that we distrusted the long-standing traditional good feeling between the reigning Houses. The speed, however, with which she disposed, first of Austria, then of France, her immense increase in power, and her evident ambition not only to protect herself, but to gain the hegemony of Europe, together formed a menace against which we were forced to take strong measures. Accordingly our army was again increased as quickly as possible, and between the years 1869 and 1880 the peace strength of the forces in European Russia rose from 366,000 to 535,000 men, arrangements at the same time being made for the mobilization of a field army of 1,500,000. But during the same period our neighbours were able to perfect their own arrangements still more, both in the number of men mobilized and the speed of their concentration. From a force whose strength was the same in peace and war our war army now became so large that it merited the title of “national.” But even a national army is not enough nowadays. For the successful conduct of a conflict against a powerful opponent, a struggle which calls for the exertion of every effort—moral, mental, and physical—the whole nation itself must take part. In other words, to achieve success with an army mainly composed of men called up for actual operations, the people must be in sympathy with it, must recognize the importance and magnitude of its task, and must back it up unreservedly.

The war of 1870–71 was prosecuted by the Germans in a truly national spirit. The attitude of all grades of society towards the racial struggle entered upon by their Government was one of the highest patriotism. The good tone and unselfish devotion of the troops was well supported by the wave of patriotic feeling which, starting with the Prussians, ran through all the German nationalities from King down to peasant. It is a platitude that the German school-teacher was the real victor in the war of 1870–71. This figure of speech can perhaps be more truthfully expressed in another way: the French were not conquered by the German troops, but by the German nation, which gave to the army both its sons and its moral support. There was no such close union between the French Emperor, the French army, and the French people. It was not France which fought Germany, but the French army. The result we know. When the country was overrun by the invader, the people, with few exceptions, did not exhibit a proper patriotic spirit, nor did they assist the soldiers to wage a national war. Some of the intelligent sections of the populace, indeed, thought fit to carry on an internal strife directed towards the overthrow of their Government whilst the war was actually in progress, and as soon as the Imperial forces were beaten and the Emperor taken prisoner, they succeeded in their effort.

In this sense we fought against Turkey under favourable conditions in 1877–78. The sympathies of our people for the closely related Slav races in the Balkan Peninsula had been aroused by the preceding struggle of the Servians against the Turks, and we were, moreover, fighting our traditional enemy. Consequently, many volunteers and large sums of money found their way from Russia into Servia. Society, worked up by the Press, was deeply moved, and brought pressure upon the Government to declare war, while active operations were of course the one desire of our soldiers. The eventual declaration of hostilities was hailed with acclamation. As has been explained, the slowness of our concentration in Bessarabia permitted the further training of our troops, especially of the reservists, and of the selection of the best men for command, and we consequently moved into Turkey fairly well prepared. Our troops were in the best of spirits, and their belief in victory boundless. But valuable time had elapsed, and the resistance of the Turks was far more determined than anything we had expected. However, we reinforced rapidly, broke down all opposition, and eventually reached the walls of Constantinople. It really seemed as if we were on this occasion about to take full advantage of what had been done by our army, and place the protection of our Black Sea coast on a permanent basis. But we hesitated and delayed operations in front of the enemy’s capital, and so allowed the fruit of our military success to be snatched from us by the ill-timed action of diplomacy. Great Britain’s incorrect appreciation of the Eastern Question in 1877, combined with our distrust of Austria, and, most important of all, the fact that we were tired of war in high quarters, led to results quite out of proportion to the sacrifices we had made. When the Agreement of San Stefano was replaced by the Treaty of Berlin, the national feeling of optimistic patriotism gave way to general dissatisfaction. Victors in war, we had been beaten in politics.

Within twenty-five years Russia waged two European wars, which were prematurely concluded. In 1850 at Sevastopol we acknowledged ourselves beaten at a moment when our enemies were themselves powerless to proceed. In 1878, though we had reached the very walls of Constantinople, we did not occupy it, and though we had conquered the country, we acknowledged that we alone were not strong enough to guarantee the peaceful development even of those districts of the Black Sea littoral which had belonged to us before. But these results, though surprising and disappointing to the army and the nation at large, brought their compensations. It was the Berlin Congress that proved to us in unmistakable terms that we were alone on the Continent of Europe, and showed how necessary it was for us to set our house in order on the western border, if we did not wish to be taken unawares by neighbours already prepared. But it was no simple matter to improve our military position on that side—especially towards Germany—so that it might be on a level with that of our possible adversary. It meant large expenditure in the construction and improvement of fortresses, the making of roads, and the collection of reserves of supplies, at a time when our financial resources had been crippled, and the War Department, instead of having increased funds at its disposal, was receiving a smaller grant than before the war. In our generosity we had taken so small an indemnity from Turkey, and had allowed payment to be spread over so long a period, that it could not be used—as was France’s indemnity to Germany—as an “iron fund” towards the expenses of the war and the betterment of the army. About this time, also, the feeling of disquiet caused by the state of our western frontier was increased by fresh complications arising on the Asiatic side of the Empire.

The first time we made any effort to use our position in Central Asia indirectly in furtherance of our general policy was in 1878, when we sent a force to Djam (near Samarkand), with the object of causing embarrassment to Great Britain, then at war with Afghanistan. This attempt to force Great Britain to give us a free hand in the Near East by means of pressure applied elsewhere (on the Afghan frontier) was not successful. By Stolietoff’s mission to Kabul the Afghans were assured of Russian assistance against Great Britain, but when the British marched into their country in force we held aloof. When the Amir Shere Ali died, the country was again thrown into complete disorder. From Samarkand Abdur Rahman went into Afghanistan, and endeavoured to enlist the sympathies and obtain the assistance of some of the tribes in his attempts to gain the throne; he also tried hard to obtain our support. But it was the British who gave him assistance, and, whether for good or evil, he remembered this fact during the whole of his reign, and was our enemy. In 1877–79 we might easily have converted Afghanistan into a friendly “buffer State” between us and India, but in spite of General Kaufmann’s representations we failed to seize the psychological moment, and the “buffer” subsequently created by Great Britain was one hostile to us. Thanks to this short-sighted policy of ours with regard to this country, we lost prestige in Central Asia for some time, and numerous English emissaries charged with the task of stirring up the warlike Turkomans against us penetrated into the steppes of Turkestan. Raids by Turkomans into our territory on the eastern shores of the Caspian became more frequent and more daring, eventually reaching even as far as Krasnovodsk. We could no longer hold our hand, and decided to send an expedition into the steppes to seize Geok Tepe. The failure of the first expedition under Lomakin, and the heavy losses suffered at Geok Tepe under General Skobeleff, were signs that we might expect serious trouble in Central Asia, and would therefore have to increase our garrisons there, and also—which was more important—to improve the communications with Russia. The example of what happened to the Italians in Abyssinia showed what even pastoral tribes, if patriotic and well led, can do against European regular troops. It became increasingly clear that to leave our districts in Central Asia, 1,335 miles by road from Orenburg—Russia’s outpost—with such small garrisons as they then had, was, under the then complicated conditions, to court disaster. We therefore began the construction of the Central Asian railway system, which reached completion only two years ago.[34] These lines cost a large sum, which had to be provided at the expense of our preparations on the western frontier and in the Far East; but the wisdom of our action was amply proved in 1885 during the frontier trouble, ending in the defeat of the Afghan troops at Kushk.[35] After negotiations with Great Britain, which at some periods became almost critical, a modus vivendi was reached, and our present frontier with Afghanistan, delimitated by a special mixed Boundary Commission, has not been violated for the twenty years of its existence. I repeat that it is my firm conviction that this frontier is in every way satisfactory to us, and to alter it by advancing to Herat[36] would in no way be beneficial. The period of small expeditions, always ending in some slight increase to our territory, ceased with the delimitation of this frontier. Of the two nations who now march with us in Central Asia—the Persians and the Afghans—the latter possesses such large armed forces that we should need a considerable army to carry out any advance into their country, irrespective of any assistance that might be given to them by Great Britain. On the other hand, the defence of our own extensive territory has become a very difficult matter, chiefly owing to the spread of the Pan-Slav[37] propaganda, and were the Afghans to attempt an invasion on the pretext of liberating our subject races, partial risings of the population are quite possible. We must, therefore, maintain sufficient troops in those regions, not only in case of war, but also to prevent internal trouble. In this way our position in Central Asia has become more complicated during the last forty years—in fact, ever since we took Tashkent. Now, instead of the five or six battalions with which we conquered the country, we have two whole army corps in Turkestan.

Just as had been the case when the Emperor Alexander II. came to the throne, a great effort in the direction of military economy was made after the accession of Alexander III., and the army was reduced by 28,000 men; but the conclusion of the Triple Affiance and the rapid growth of our neighbours’ armaments brought about a fresh increase in the army, as well as a rapprochement between ourselves and France, who was equally menaced. To the creation of new units by Germany and Austria we replied by raising fresh troops or by transferring men from the Caucasus and the interior to the western frontier. In this severe race of preparation for war we were unable to keep up with our western neighbours, not so much in point of mere numbers as in necessary organization. We were too poor and too backward, for modern mobilization entails heavy drafts upon the whole reserve forces of a State, and is deeply felt by the whole nation. This is what that distinguished German writer, Von der Goltz, implied when he wrote that modern wars must be waged by armed nations, not by armies. Other things being equal, success is assured to the side which can quickest concentrate superior numbers in the field. These forces must not only be under competent leaders, but must be well supplied, reinforced, and equipped. It was chiefly in this respect that we soon felt our inferiority. By forming cadres without any strength, or with a very small strength, we are able, thanks to our large population, our numerous reserves and militia, to mobilize an immense number of troops of sorts—regulars, reservists, reserve units, and militia. But owing to the shortage of officers and lack of supplies, these units would vary much in their value for war. While our advanced troops only could be concentrated as quickly as those of our neighbours, the reserve troops could be mobilized but slowly, the reserve units would be quite inadequate, and, finally, the militia would not be embodied at the same time as the others, and even then only with great difficulty. But though we had plenty of men and horses, matériel—particularly technical stores—was insufficient (telegraphs, telephones, balloons, pigeon post, light railways, explosives, tools, wire, etc.). Owing to the constant advances in scientific knowledge, and to the continual demands made for increased strength in construction, fortresses are no sooner built than the whole of their masonry has to be remodelled. We could not, therefore, keep our armaments and defences up to date, and they were largely obsolete. Though our siege artillery had received a certain number of good and modern guns, it was not equal to our neighbours’ in mobility, and we did not possess nearly enough technical troops, such as sappers, and mining and railway companies. There was no organization either for peace or war of the auxiliary services for the line of communications; the depôt troops it was proposed to form would not have been sufficient; and there were no means of keeping up the numbers of officers and doctors. But our greatest danger lay in the inferiority of our railways.

After 1882 we made great advances in efficiency, but only arrived at such a point that we were able to carry out a concentration on the frontier in double the time it would have taken our neighbours, so that not only were we condemned to the defensive, but our forces coming up in succession would be destroyed in detail. Since the lesson of 1870–71, we had become reconciled to the fact that we should never be able to catch up Germany in speed of mobilization, but we had flattered ourselves that in this respect we were ahead of Austria. Some ten or eleven years ago we were undeceived on this point also. The Austrian War Department had succeeded in working wonders in preparing the probable area of operations on our side for both attack and defence, and, owing to the many strategic lines of rail constructed through the Carpathians, this range had ceased to be a dangerous obstacle in rear of their advanced position.[38] Besides the sums allotted for the ordinary expenditure on the army, both the Austrians and the Germans had had recourse to extraordinary and special grants; thus their storehouses were filled, their fortresses well built and equipped, and their roads constructed. Not only did our lack of funds handicap us in these directions, but our backward state of development proved an insuperable bar, especially as regards the construction of railways. With our neighbours, the directions in which strategic lines of rail were required coincided generally with their economic alignment. With us the two requirements were at variance, and each strategic line proposed on our side met with the opposition of the Finance Department as being economically unsound.

In the Far East we had little trouble for many years. Though our frontier with China was 6,000 miles long, it was not till 1880—twenty-seven years ago—that the increase in Japan’s military power and the awakening of China compelled us to think about strengthening our position in that quarter.

In 1871, when the western provinces of China[39] were convulsed by the Mohammedan rebellion, we occupied the province of Kuldja in order to safeguard our own borders. The inhabitants—the Dunganites and Taranchites—who had previously completely defeated the Chinese and some of the Kalmuits, gave us very little trouble, and laid down their arms on our definite promise to make them Russian subjects. But while our soldiers were doing their work on the spot, our diplomats in their offices miles away, without consulting any of those with local knowledge, such as Kaufmann or Kolpakovski, thought fit to promise the Chinese that as soon as they quelled the revolt and arrived as far as Kuldja, that province could be restored to them. As a matter of fact, we hoped, of course, that they would be unable to defeat Yakub Beg, and so would never gain possession of Kashgaria, and yet we were helping them towards this very object. The position was a curious one, and in 1876, when I, as Russian envoy, was in Yakub Beg’s camp near Kurlia[40] negotiating as to the delimitation of the boundary of Fergana, just conquered by us, he himself remarked on it. He very justly reproached me with the fact that while I was dealing with him, another officer of the General Staff, one Lieutenant-Colonel Sosnovski, was, with the knowledge of the Russian authorities, supplying the Chinese troops moving against him. His statement was absolutely correct. After Yakub Beg’s sudden death the Chinese quickly got possession of the whole of Kashgaria, advanced up to the southern edge of Kuldja, and asserted their rights to that province also. While Kaufmann urged most strenuously that we ought not to return the province to them, we procrastinated. In 1878, when I was at the head of the Asiatic Section of the General Staff, I put a memorandum before my Chief, Count Heyden, in which I pointed out the great strategic value of Kuldja to us. I also stated that, if we felt bound by our loosely given engagement to return this province to China, we should most certainly be justified in demanding compensation for the expenses incurred by us during our eight years’ occupation. I suggested a sum of £10,000,000 in gold, as being suitable and also opportune for the construction of the Siberian Railway. My contention was supported by Kaufmann, but our diplomatists were against it. A special committee, consisting of M. Giers, Minister for Foreign Affairs; Admiral Grieg, Minister of Finance; Generals Kaufmann, Obrucheff, and myself, under the presidency of Count Milutin, was appointed to go into the question by the Emperor Alexander II. M. Giers and Admiral Grieg were in favour of returning Kuldja to China without demanding any compensation. Admiral Grieg asserted that Russia was in no particular need of money, and both Ministers held that we were bound by the promise to China—a promise lightly made by our diplomats without the knowledge of the men on the spot—while the other engagement made with the Dunganites and Taranchites in 1871 could be forgotten. After prolonged discussions, it was decided to return Kuldja to China, and to ask for £500,000 as compensation. The member who was most opposed to obtaining a large sum of money from China was, of all people, the Finance Minister; he apparently overlooked the possibility that would be conferred by this sum of carrying out the construction of the Siberian Railway ten years sooner. For this oversight we paid later. Meanwhile the Chinese assumed a stiff attitude, and threatened to seize Kuldja, moving troops towards it to Urumchi, Manas, Kunia-Turfan, and other points. We, in reply, hastily strengthened our position by sending up troops from Tashkent towards Kuldja. In 1880 we fortified the Barokhorinski ridge, separating it from parts of Chinese Turkestan in the occupation of the Chinese. I was in command of our advanced guard, and saw how gladly our troops would have obeyed the order to advance. They were disgusted at the thought of having to abandon the splendid country of which we had been in occupation for nearly ten years, and at the idea of breaking faith with the people to whom we had promised protection, who were even then crowding round our camps in alarm at the rumour that we were going to hand them over to the Chinese. Of course, at the time this question was decided we entertained a very exaggerated idea of the value of the Chinese troops themselves, and also of China’s military resources.

Events afterwards moved rapidly. We commenced the construction of the railway through Manchuria, and occupied the Kuan-tung Peninsula, thus alarming not only China, but Japan.

Thus, during the last quarter of the nineteenth century matters became more involved on all sides. Not only did we have to meet the preparations of Austria and Germany on the west, and threatened trouble in our frontier districts near Roumania, Turkey, and Afghanistan, but from 1896 to 1900 we had, in addition, to face the problem of safeguarding the position we had suddenly—and, for the War Department, unexpectedly—taken up in the Far East in our advance to the Pacific Ocean. The magnitude of the task of protecting 11,000 miles of frontier, and of keeping up forces so as to be in a position to fight different combinations of no less than nine adjacent States, conveys some idea of the colossal expense involved.

[CHAPTER IV]

Deductions drawn from the work of the army in the past 200 years, which may serve as some guide for the line our military policy should take in the beginning of the twentieth century.

During the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries the energies of the country were mainly absorbed in expansion and consolidation. In the prosecution of these objects we were engaged in many wars, and the experience thereby gained should help to indicate what is in store for the War Department in the future. The following appear to be the principal deductions that can be drawn from the past:

1. The duties in connection with our movement towards the shores of the Baltic and Black Seas, the expansion of Russian territory to the west (White Russia, Little Russia, Poland), to the south (Caucasus), to the east (Central Asia), were carried out by the army. From the analysis of our frontiers already made in [Chapter II.], it will be seen that, thanks to what has been done, Russia is in no need of any further increase of territory. This conclusion is in the highest degree important and satisfactory. At the same time, our military position does not now compare so favourably as formerly with that of our neighbours, principally owing to our lack of railways, and our western frontiers are exposed to great danger through the perfect state of preparation of Germany and Austria.

2. For only seventy-two years in the preceding two centuries did we enjoy peace; during the remaining time Russia was engaged in thirty-three external and two internal wars. On an average, therefore, wars occurred every six years. They were particularly frequent during the first half of the nineteenth century, while in the latter portion, if the campaigns in the Caucasus and in Asia be excepted, we were only twice engaged in hostilities—in 1853–55 and in 1877–78. We entered the present century after twenty-two years’ continuous peace, a longer interval than had occurred for 200 years; but during this time many possible causes for hostilities had arisen on all sides. Not only had the Empire become oppressed with the burden of armed peace, but the strain was so tense that there were grounds for fearing lest “guns should begin to shoot of their own accord.” The commencement of each of the three past centuries are full enough of sad memories for Russia; it might, therefore, have been expected, taking into consideration the military forces which were straining at the leash, that the beginning of the twentieth century would not be free from war clouds. It only needed a spark on one part of the frontier to kindle conflagration everywhere. Serious potential causes for hostilities existed on the western, Turkish, and Afghan frontiers, and in 1895 there was an actual casus belli on the Chinese border. In such circumstances international affairs required the most delicate handling, in order to avoid creating any additional excuses for war.

3. If the Caucasus be excluded, we were engaged on our own soil in only six campaigns, lasting for six and a half years, out of all the struggles during this period, the remainder being waged beyond our frontiers. This conferred great advantages on us, and showed the high state of our preparation in those days as compared with that of our enemies. The offensive has such immense advantage over the defensive that we should always strive, by being as ready as our neighbours, to be in a position to attack.

4. In the twenty-six battles of the nineteenth century, the casualties out of 1,500,000 combatants amounted to 323,000—i.e., almost 22 per cent. The heaviest were at Austerlitz—21,000 out of 75,000 engaged; at Borodino—40,000 out of 120,000 engaged; and at Sevastopol—85,000 out of 235,000 engaged. The following table shows our total losses in the two centuries:

PROBABLE LOSSES IN THE FUTURE

While the numbers engaged, therefore, were practically the same in both centuries, the losses in killed and wounded in the nineteenth were almost double those in the eighteenth; this indicates the more deadly character of war in the former period, and shows also that the losses became greater as weapons became perfected.[41] If we assume that Russia will probably have to put the same number of men in the field in the twentieth century as in the past, and that the growth of casualties will be in the same proportion, we must be prepared to face losses amounting to 2,000,000 killed and wounded—i.e., 40 per cent. of those engaged.

5. To keep pace with our neighbours’ continually improving preparation, there is no doubt Russia will be compelled to increase her war establishment. In our victorious combat with Turkey in 1827–29, the greatest strength to which our army ever rose in one campaign was 155,000 men, while in 1877–78 the highest figure reached was 850,000. Our maximum in the Prussian War of 1756–62 was only 130,000. I am thankful to say we have lived at peace with our western neighbour for 150 years; but if we were to fight in the west without allies now, ten times that number would be insufficient to defeat the German army, and—what is the main thing—crush the patriotism of the armed nation behind it. It follows, therefore, that we must not only be prepared in the present century to take the field with forces that are huge in comparison with those of former days, but also to face the colossal initial expenditure and recurrent cost demanded by their creation and maintenance.

6. In the eighteenth and in the first half of the nineteenth century our army was a long-service one, formed on the European model, well armed, and in spite of its lack of training, quite equal to the forces of Sweden, France, or Prussia, while we were superior in organization, armament, and training to our chief foe—Turkey. About the middle of the last century we began to fall behind the western nations in equipment and in all the technical means of destruction. At the battle of Borodino our firearms were not inferior to those of the French, but at Sevastopol we had only smooth-bore muskets, excellent for making a noise, for performing rifle exercises or bayonet fighting, but inaccurate, and of short range.

7. It became only too clear during our last wars—in 1853–55 and 1877–78—that many of our senior officers were unfit for their work under modern and complicated conditions. The juniors were brave and active within the limits of their duties, but insufficiently educated. Officers commanding units were, with some brilliant exceptions, quite incapable of making the most out of the fighting qualities of their troops; but weakest of all were our generals—our brigade, division, and army corps commanders. The majority were incapable of commanding all three arms in action, and knew neither how to insure cohesion among the units under them, nor to keep touch with the forces on either side. The feeling of mutual support was therefore with us quite undeveloped. Indeed, it often happened that while one of our forces was being destroyed, the commander of some other force close by remained inactive under the plea of not having received any orders.

8. Generally speaking, at the time of the Crimea and Turkish War (of 1877–78) our troops had practically no tactical training, and we did not know how to attain the best results with the minimum of loss. In the attack we advanced almost in column, and suffered heavily; while very little use was ever made of the auxiliary arms—cavalry, artillery, and sappers—indeed, they were almost forgotten. But we had one strong point: we were not afraid to die, and only asked to be shown in which direction sacrifice was required of us.

9. Judging by the experiences of the wars of these two centuries, in order to insure success in the future we must be prepared to concentrate a superior force. Without superiority in numbers our troops were unable, especially in the attack, to defeat Swedes, Frenchmen, or, in the last war, Turks.

10. But, quite apart from the grave question of how best to make ready to oppose the armies of our western neighbours, 2 millions strong, the War Department has to take into account the 40,000,000 of non-Russian subjects, many of whom live in our Asiatic frontier districts and in the Caucasus, for their attitude really determines the number of men we must leave for the defence of those frontiers in case of a European war.

11. Finally, the work of the Department became still more complicated in the concluding years of the last century, owing to the greater frequency of the calls upon the troops to take part in the suppression of civil disorder in Russia itself. The discontent of all grades of the population has increased of recent years, and revolutionary propaganda have found in this dissatisfaction their most favourable soil; even the army has not escaped infection. It therefore appears that the maintenance of order in the interior of our country will not be the smallest task of the War Department in the coming century.

12. In the last twenty-five years not only Germany and Austria, but our other neighbours, have perfected the organization of their forces, and have arrived at a pitch of excellence which will enable them either to take up a strong defensive, or rapidly to carry the war into our territory; consequently, we have to face greater expenditure, and arrange for larger concentrations also on the Roumanian, Turkish, and Afghan frontiers. We were at peace for nearly two hundred years on the Chinese border, but events occurred within the last fifteen years of the last century which forced us to begin increasing our insignificant forces then in the Far East, although we quite realized that our best policy was to keep peace with China, and to avoid rupture with Japan. Thus the chief duty of the War Department in the first years of the present century is the defence of our frontiers. Of these, our Austrian and German borders, being the most dangerous, should receive our particular attention.

There is no doubt that to carry on an energetic offensive is our best protection. But our power to do this does not depend upon the action of our War Department alone: it depends upon the relative national efficiencies. The more fully developed and efficient a nation is, the more numerous are its war resources of every sort. But the one factor which nowadays determines more than all else the nature and direction of operations is the railways. In this connection we have noted the large number of lines at the disposal of our neighbours in the west, and that is precisely the front upon which we are handicapped almost to actual impotence by our backwardness. There are so many other urgent calls for the expenditure of money that the construction of purely strategic and economically unremunerative lines seems wasteful and the cost prohibitive. For this reason our strategy on this side calls for the greatest care and thought in order that we may conduct as active a defence as possible. The next thing to do after admitting our present disadvantages is to realize that it is upon this frontier that the largest portion of the funds available for military purposes should be spent, while the remainder can be apportioned between all our other frontiers. It is clear that we were in no position to spend money on the Far East, and after the forward moves made in that direction from 1896–1900, it was realized that in that quarter the purely defensive was our best policy. The communiqué of our Government of June 24, 1900, informed the whole world of our intention not to annex the territory we were then occupying in Manchuria, and gave us every reason to suppose that if we kept our engagements no trouble with China and Japan was likely.

13. Even in the concluding years of the last century Russia was not preparing for any further advance in the Far East, but was fully occupied with the defence of her western front and with the maintenance of internal order. Thus, our unexpected forward movement, first in Manchuria and then to the shores of the Pacific Ocean, found the War Department as surprised as it was unprepared. In such circumstances our promise not to annex Manchuria was a very necessary one, not only on account of our desire not to disturb our friendly relations with China, but because we were aware of our military unreadiness in that part of the world. In the report I submitted in 1900 regarding the duties of the Department in the early future, I said:

“While we must be prepared to defend our interests upon the Pacific Ocean, in Afghanistan, Persia, and Turkey, and also to fight at sea, we cannot afford either the men or the money to be at the same time equal in power to our western neighbours. We have given to Germany and Austria a decided advantage by directing our attention to the Far East. This disturbance of the balance of power menaces the integrity of the Empire, and I sincerely believe that it will not be permitted to continue by the Tsar. As the War Department’s first task, therefore, I propose to develop the efficiency of our forces on the western frontier, and to formulate a definite plan of operations for them.”

From our Ally’s point of view, also, it was only right to attend to this at once, for our comparative weakness on this side would in case of war allow the Powers of the Triple Alliance to contain us with quite a small force on our frontier and to crush France by overwhelming numbers.

14. Our land forces bore the brunt of the national struggles during this period. After Peter the Great’s time the rôle of the Russian fleet in all the wars in which we were engaged was insignificant. In the last two great wars of the last century we particularly needed the co-operation of the fleet, but our sailors at Sevastopol fought on land, owing to our naval inefficiency. In the war of 1877–78 the Turks had no fleet on the Black Sea. Russia is undoubtedly a land Power; the small part played in the past by the fleet, therefore, was not accidental, but natural. If we had spent large sums in this period on our navy, we should only have made our position worse, for it was only by immense expenditure on the army that we were able to win. History has taught us that we should follow in our fathers’ footsteps, and, considering the army as Russia’s right arm, spend upon it the larger part of the sums allotted by the Ministry of Finance for general military needs. But our active ventures in the Far East forced us into naval expenditure, which was arranged for in the last years of last century by starving the army finances. The result is alarming. On this point I wrote in my report of 1900:

“If in the future the fleet is to be increased at the expense of the army, and if the increase of our forces on the eastern frontier is to be made at the expense of those stationed on the western, then our already weak position in regard to Germany and Austria will become still worse. With the growth of our navy will arise questions of coaling stations and ports, and as our expenditure on these as well as on our ships grows heavier, it will entail retrenchment on our most important frontier—that in Europe. Once our fleet had destroyed the Turkish sailing fleet at Sinope, it became impotent, despite its high moral, for it then had to contend against steam, against which it was powerless.”

15. In the war of 1877–78 we had an unfortunate experience. The Turks, whom we had conquered previously, although we had to fight against huge odds, were on this occasion organized on the European system by European instructors, and were better armed than we were. Their firearms had been made in the workshops of Germany and England, and were far superior to ours.[42] Now, other conditions being equal, not only does the better weapon tend to victory, because it causes greater loss, but because—and this is far more important—the knowledge of being better armed bestows confidence. Possessed of a weapon even but little inferior to that of an enemy, men are inclined to ascribe their own faults to the superiority of the enemy’s armament. There was in this respect no such difference between us and the Turks in 1877–78 as had existed in 1853–55; but still, after our first misfortune at Plevna, our army lost confidence in its rifles and guns, and ascribed its misfortunes to the superior armament of the Turks. Everything, therefore, points to the necessity of keeping up to date in armament. In the past our difficulty in keeping pace with the various improvements so rapidly introduced was increased by the fact that we not only had to re-arm the regular army, but had to create an immense stock of weapons for the reserve troops, militia, depôt troops, and again as a reserve for the whole of the forces.

16. In our wars with minor enemies (such as Turks, Caucasians, and Central Asians) we were victorious, owing to our great numerical superiority. In meeting nations of a higher civilization than our own (such as the Swedes and the French), we generally suffered very heavily at first, but won in the end, in spite of our comparative lack of skill, owing to our dogged bravery and determination. Peter the Great carried on the struggle for nine years from Narva to Poltava, and Alexander I. fought for the same period between Austerlitz and the entry of our troops into Paris. The objects of these wars were clear to our troops, and the men were inspired to fight on to the end at all costs. As a result, our troops did win. In the Crimea, and in 1877–78, not only was our object in fighting vague, but the wars were prematurely finished before the army or the nation had really put out their strength, and in spite of our sacrifices and losses, we were in both cases unsuccessful. Every war brings in its train much unhappiness to both sides, and the loss of a campaign is for a great nation a supreme misfortune and one overwhelming the machinery of government. Therefore, strive as it may against commencing hostilities, when once a country takes up arms it should continue to fight until it wins; otherwise it will lose the right to be considered a great nation, and will become a “collection of mere ethnographical material,” from which other nationalities may be strengthened. The following words of my report of 1900 are as applicable to-day as when I wrote them:

“Crises of world-wide importance arise suddenly, and are not prevented by the unpreparedness of a nation for war. On the contrary, the knowledge of unreadiness in any quarter only leads to a desire to take advantage of it in others. Therefore a struggle such as has never been seen in the world may come sooner than we think. It may burst forth even contrary to the wish of the Tsar, and against the interests of Russia. This would be a great calamity for the whole world. But particularly calamitous for Russia would be any cessation by her, before complete victory was achieved, of a war once started.

“In the event of disaster in the first campaign, and after the first and serious consequences of war—famine, disease, paralysis of trade, and, above all, heavy losses—have made themselves felt, the Russian monarch’s character will need to be of iron to enable him to resist the universal clamour that will be raised to accept defeat and make peace.”

[CHAPTER V]

The work before the War Department in the concluding years of the last, and the early years of the present, century—Money allotted to it from 1898–1903—Inadequacy of these sums to meet the demands—Measures which it was possible to undertake—Steps taken to improve and consolidate our position in the Far East.

In the Russki Invalid (No. 143 of 1895) an article appeared in reply to one by Demchinski, which had been published in the Slovo under the title of “Were we Ready for War?” Demchinski endeavoured to prove that we spend more than other countries on national defence; that the amounts allotted for this purpose in Russia are ample; that the measures brought forward as necessary in order to prepare our army for war are merely a cloak for extortion; and that lack of financial control in our administration allows great openings for the misappropriation of funds. In replying, the article in the Russki Invalid quoted from the standard works of Professor Maksheeff upon the army estimates of Germany and Russia from 1888 to 1900. During these thirteen years the expenditure amounted to £358,100,000 in Germany, and £347,900,000 in Russia. Therefore Germany, with half our peace strength, spent in that period £10,000,000 more than we did. The enormous length of our frontiers, amongst other things, forces us to maintain twice as many men in peace as Germany. Even of the lesser sum for greater numbers that we spend, we are obliged to allot almost the whole to meet maintenance charges (food, uniform, etc.). So that not only do we spend less money than Germany on the whole, but we can afford proportionately less on “special or extraordinary services,” which include those of preparing the army for war. On this important question the writer of the article in the Russki Invalid expresses himself much to the point:

“As the ordinary expenditure is urgent, and cannot be postponed, it calls for no comment, being allotted, in fact, to measures to which we are already committed. With regard to the measures which come under the head of extraordinary expenditure, the case is different. They are not urgent in the sense that we are absolutely committed to them, and they are, therefore, as a matter of course, not urgent in the opinion of those unversed in military matters. Consequently these persons are inclined to refuse sanction to such measures, to postpone them, or, under the most favourable circumstances, to spread their execution over a considerable period. The result is bad for national defence and for the preparation of the army for war. Our forces might suddenly be called upon to take the field with inferior armament, with insufficient and unserviceable supplies, and without well-organized communications. Upon analyzing the German army estimates, one is struck with the comparative magnitude of the initial and extraordinary expenditure, which shows that, although her army is half the strength of ours, she spends vastly more money on it than we do on ours.”

Our comparative unreadiness for war, in spite of our possessing a large standing army, first became evident, as I have mentioned, as far back as 1870, when the Germans were able to throw an immense army across the French frontier in a fortnight, and conduct a victorious campaign with extraordinary speed. The Turkish War of 1877–78, again, exposed our weak points in organization and mobilization, and profiting by its lessons, many measures towards improvement were undertaken during Count Milutin’s régime at the Ministry of War. The new grouping of the Powers and the formation of the Triple Alliance, also, were events which emphasized the necessity for us to set our house in order as regards defence. During the sixteen years from 1882 to 1898 Generals Vannovski and Obrucheff, guided by the opinions of the leading generals in command of troops, managed to increase the efficiency of the army and at the same time to strengthen our defences. On the western frontier a system of fortified positions was organized, and reserves of supplies collected at strategic points; but, owing to the inadequate development of our railway system, it became necessary, in addition, to increase the number of troops permanently stationed in the western military districts. Steps were also taken for the defence of the Baltic and Black Sea coasts. But our attention was chiefly, and quite rightly, confined to the west, and as small appropriations as possible were made for the Caucasus, Turkestan, and the Siberian Military Districts. Thus, in Siberia, from the Pacific to the Ural Mountains, we only had a few battalions, and not a single fortress; nor did we have any fortified posts in Turkestan. To strengthen the troops on the western frontier, indeed, we took troops from the Caucasus, and to find money for the formation of new units, we had to reduce the strength of those in Turkestan. This was done on the supposition that if we were strong on the German side, no one would attack us in the Caucasus or in Asia. In other words, our efforts were concentrated upon the most dangerous frontier. But even then, taking into consideration the many wants of the army, the sum available for our western side, though large, was insufficient to place us in all respects on a level with both Germany and Austria. Though great results were obtained as regards the acceleration of our mobilization, and some very useful strategic lines of railway were constructed, our speed of concentration could not be compared to that of our neighbours, with their better-developed railway systems. However economically the War Ministry treated those measures which were unessential, and could therefore be shelved temporarily, progress with the urgent services was not as rapid as could be desired. Confronted as it was, therefore, with many demands of the western frontier still unsatisfied, the Department, on the whole, could not but be a convinced opponent of a forward policy in the Far East, in Afghanistan, or in Persia. This practically represents the state of affairs and the feeling of the Department right up to the outbreak of the Chino-Japanese War in 1894.

In 1898 I succeeded General Vannovski as War Minister, General Sakharoff taking the place of General Obrucheff.[43] We fully recognized the necessity, when framing the estimates, of pursuing the same policy as our predecessors, and of placing first and foremost the improvement of our military position on the west, but we had by this time taken steps in the Far East which made it impossible to confine our expenditure in that quarter to the small amount of previous years. Events out there had moved rapidly, and were such as called for expenditure of men and money in Kuan-tung, Manchuria, and in the Pri-Amur region.

A schedule is drawn up for the allocation of the expenditure of the sum allotted to the War Ministry. In this, with the previous consent of the Finance Branch, the War Minister frames a general estimate for five years, in which the services are divided up according as the expenditure is to be capital or recurring. The estimates for new and important services entailing initial expenditure are, after being examined by the Military Council, scrutinized by a special committee before being approved. This committee is presided over by the President of the Department of State Economy, and the Finance Minister and the State Comptroller are members. The final list of measures to be undertaken during the five-year period are then submitted to the Tsar for sanction. The exposition of all the army’s requirements constitutes one of the most important duties of the War Minister. Firstly, all general officers in command of districts[44] submit to the Tsar statements as to their requirements for the troops under their command, as well as those for works, such as fortresses, railways, etc. The heads of the chief departments—commissariat, artillery, engineers, etc.—draw up their estimates as to buildings, mobilization, and educational requirements, etc. These are classified according as they demand initial or recurring expenditure, and many of the more important items are examined in the Military Council or by special committees. This was the complicated procedure necessary in 1897 and 1898 to fix the total sum required by the War Department during the five years 1898 to 1903 for the maintenance of the army and the improvement of its military efficiency. The very limited amount allotted during the twenty years preceding this period had literally been doled out, not according to the needs of the army, but according to the amount available in the Treasury; consequently the need of money had gone on increasing cumulatively, until in 1898 we were face to face with a situation which demanded greater sacrifices than ever.

Early in 1898 a general statement had been drawn up by my predecessor’s orders to show our urgent requirements. By this it was clear that, in order to satisfy all our wants, a supplementary allotment of £56,500,000 was absolutely necessary beyond the sum required for the five-year schedule. This amount included expenditure on two items of a very special nature: the re-armament of the field artillery with quick-firing guns (£9,000,000), and the increase of house allowances (£2,000,000). It must be remembered that the measures now put forward by General Vannovski did not even dispose of our many really important needs, for in his supplementary statement were included only those things that could not be postponed, or which had long ago been sanctioned, but not carried out for want of funds. Amongst the most important of these were the following:

1. The improvement of the organization of the army and increases to its establishment, including additions to the troops in the Asiatic districts, especially in Pri-Amur.

2. The betterment of the conditions of service of all ranks, particularly as to an increase to the officers’ pay and house allowance, and the introduction of field kitchens.

3. The augmentation of reserve supplies in the Pri-Amur and Turkestan districts.

4. An increase in the artillery in the Siberian Military District.

5. The formation of extra engineer units and strengthening of fortresses.

The Finance Minister, to whom this demand for a further allotment of £45,500,000[45] additional to the schedule for the period of 1898 to 1902 was submitted, replied that the state of the country’s finances would not permit of the money being given. After much discussion he agreed to grant £16,000,000 instead of £45,500,000, and this lesser sum was finally approved. So we actually received for this five-year period about £30,000,000 less than was required, or a deficit of £6,000,000 per annum. Such a policy could have only one result, that of placing us further behind our western neighbours in the military race, as in many directions it compelled the cessation of work necessary for the strengthening of our position both on our European and Asiatic frontiers. Besides this, large sums were required for the general improvement of the status of our troops on the peace establishment. In the first place, in order to obtain greater efficiency among the senior officers, it was essential to treat the whole body of officers in a more liberal spirit, so that zealous and capable men should be content to remain in the Service, and not wish to leave; to modernize and add to the number of our military educational establishments, so that as large a number of officers as possible should receive a general training of a standard equivalent to that given in the middle-class educational establishments. Our private soldiers were decidedly worse off than those of other armies as regards ready-money, food, dress, and equipment, and the expenditure required to improve their condition would of course be heavy. Again, our horses were not of a sufficiently good class, especially in the Cossack regiments and the transport. These were only the most pressing of the army’s many needs.

Thus the legacy left to me when I assumed the duty of War Minister on January 1, 1898, was no pleasing one. The immense needs of the army were clear at a glance, but not clearer than the lack of funds wherewith they might be met. Consequently I had to examine all proposals most carefully in order to settle which could be carried out, and which must be indefinitely postponed. I have already expressed my views on the importance of our western frontier, but to carry out what was necessary for our military position on that side would have absorbed the whole of the additional £16,000,000 allowed on the supplementary estimate for all purposes during five years. Meanwhile there was the long list of almost equally pressing demands for the improvement in the senior ranks and for the consolidation of our position in the Far East, etc. The housing of our troops was in many cases so extremely bad that it was difficult to train the men, and this necessitated the construction of barracks at various stations. Finally, those services which had been started in the preceding five years had to be completed, particularly those touching the organization of reserve units. The Tsar investigated the relative urgency of these matters, and approved a scheme for 1899 to 1903, which, with the exception of the reorganization of the reserve troops and the further increase to our troops in European Russia, was carried out completely. The services approved by the Tsar were noted by the War Ministry. The following are a few, and show the form in which they were officially recorded:

1. With a view to possible complications in the Far East, the Tsar gave orders that our military position there should be strengthened.

2. The War Minister’s recommendations as to the necessity of improving the general conditions under which officers served, in order to get greater efficiency among the seniors, were warmly supported by the Tsar, who issued orders that the matter should be taken in hand at once.

3. The Tsar was also pleased to order that the conditions of service of the soldiers should be made more liberal. Better quarters were to be constructed, and the issue of a tea ration was to be gradually introduced.

4. The Tsar was pleased to recognize the particular importance of the re-armament of the artillery, and instructed the Minister of Finance to provide funds for it by a supplementary grant.

The measures carried out by the War Department from 1899 to 1903 can be described in a few words:

The Pri-Amur Military District as at present defined had only been formed in 1883. Its garrison originally consisted of 12 battalions, 10 squadrons, 2½ Cossack battalions, 5 batteries, a sapper company, and 1 company of fortress artillery. Ten years later, in 1894, it had risen to 20 battalions of infantry. From 1895 we began to increase the troops in the Far East with some rapidity. Between 1898 and 1902 they were increased by 840 officers, 37,000 men, and 2,600 horses. Altogether in that period our forces had grown to 31 battalions, 15 squadrons, 32 guns, 1 sapper battalion, and 3 battalions of fortress artillery. Moreover, 5 railway battalions had been formed for work on the Eastern Chinese Railway, and the Frontier and other guards had been increased from 8,000 to 25,000. The general total increase in numbers in the Pri-Amur district, in Manchuria and in Kuan-tung, amounted to 60,000 men. The idea of the scheme of 1899 was to enable us to bring as soon as possible the establishment of the troops in these districts of the Far East up to 48 Rifle and 48 reserve battalions, 57 squadrons, 236 guns, and 3¾ sapper battalions, organized in three corps. Compared with the few battalions in Siberia and the Pri-Amur district only a short time before, this was a large force, and its organization at so great a distance was most difficult. It depended to a great extent on the amount of money available and local conditions, and took some years to complete. As this force could be rapidly concentrated, the idea was that it should constitute a strong advance-guard, under cover of which the reinforcements from Russia would be able to concentrate. The fate of a first campaign must obviously depend to a great extent on the rapidity with which these reinforcements could be transported, and yet in 1900 the Siberian Railway was not constructed as a first-class line, and the Eastern Chinese line was not finished. I reported in 1900:

“To bring our forces up to the total specified[46] will take six to seven years. This fact, coupled with the incapacity of our railways to cope with any heavy traffic, calls for the greatest care in our external relations, lest we permit ourselves to be drawn into war at a disadvantage, with an insufficient number of troops which could be only very slowly concentrated.”

For various reasons, too complicated to explain, this advice was not acted on; the necessity for extreme care was not appreciated, and we were suddenly plunged into war when we were not ready. In 1902 our military position was good, and having begun to carry out our promises as to the evacuation of Manchuria, we had every reason to count on a continuance of peace in the Far East. But towards the end of that year there were signs of a possible rupture with Japan. The War Department was not blind to these, and the measures enumerated above, which, with the money then available, were to have been completed by 1906 or 1907, were, by the aid of a supplementary allotment, carried out within a year.

While hoping for peace, we steadily prepared for hostilities, and increased our troops in the Far East in 1903 by 38 battalions, and in the same year formed 32 new battalions in European Russia; so that by adding one to each of the East Siberian two-battalion[47] regiments, and thereby converting them into three-battalion regiments, all the 9 East Siberian Brigades could be expanded into 9 East Siberian Rifle Divisions, with 12 battalions apiece. The allotment of artillery and sappers to these divisions was carried out under a special scheme. Thus the force of 19 battalions which we had in the Pri-Amur district at the time of the Chino-Japanese War should have swollen in 1903 into one of 108 rifle and 20 reserve battalions. Behind these stood 40 more reserve battalions, held in reserve in the Siberian Military District. Altogether our Siberian possessions were to have contained in 1903 an army of 168 battalions of infantry, with a due proportion of other arms. The railway, however, did not permit us to transport these additional units until the spring of 1904, when hostilities had commenced. Yet they were eventually received, and the force in the Pri-Amur—which was practically defenceless at the time of the Chino-Japanese War—had grown into an army of four Siberian corps and two independent divisions, which received the first blows in the Japanese War. Though hastily improvised between 1895 and 1903, thanks to the great efforts made to render them reliable, to the fortunate selection of their commanders, and to their strong peace establishments, they proved to be our best troops. The principle upon which they were formed was the transference to them of complete companies chosen by ballot from the corps in Europe, and only under exceptional circumstances were the company officers permitted to be transferred from these new units. Each of the 32 battalions was formed from one of the army corps in Russia, one company being taken from each brigade, and picked officers were placed in command of each battalion. The soundness of the scheme upon which these units were created is borne out by the fact that at the Ya-lu the 3rd Battalions of the 11th and 12th Regiments, which had only just arrived to join their regiments, fought most gallantly. The 3rd Battalion of the 11th Regiment in particular, by making a counter-attack with the bayonet, inflicted severe loss on the enemy. In the spring of 1905 the regiments of all 7 East Siberian Rifle Divisions were turned into four-battalion regiments. In the 1st Manchurian Army, which I had the honour to command, were 5 of these East Siberian Rifle Divisions, and their 90[48] battalions were acknowledged to be the pick of all three armies. But to form all these new units we had to denude our German frontier to an alarming extent.

Besides increasing the number of men in the Far East between 1896 and 1903, we formed supply depôts, and hastily fortified Vladivostok and Port Arthur. Indeed, one quarter of the total sum allotted to all our fortress construction and maintenance from 1898 to 1902 was spent upon these two fortresses. Only on Kronstadt,[49] of all our land and sea strongholds, was more money spent than on Port Arthur. Many other difficulties besides those of finance confronted us in the provision of armament. It was vitally necessary that both Vladivostok and Port Arthur should have coast guns of the latest pattern, but it took a long time to get them delivered by the factories owing to the heavy orders already being executed for the Navy Department. As a temporary measure we were obliged to mount old-pattern guns. In a short time more than 1,000 pieces of ordnance were transported from European Russia to these two places. Progress was greatly delayed when the railway was interrupted during the rising in Manchuria in 1900, while work at Port Arthur itself was for a long time stopped by Admiral Alexeieff’s order. Had it not been for these delays, the place would have been much better prepared in 1904 than it was. But to appreciate properly what was accomplished there in a short time two circumstances should be remembered:

A. Owing to our fleet being shut up in Port Arthur, the Japanese possessed the command of the sea, and were able to remove the armament from several of their naval fortresses to Kuan-tung for the siege operations; against these coast guns even masonry defences were of little use.

B. The delivery of these heavy howitzers and the landing of other siege material was greatly facilitated by the existence of Dalny, a place which had been created entirely at the instance of M. de Witte, without any reference having been made to the War Ministry or the officer commanding the Kuan-tung district, under whose control the locality actually was.

A large quantity of food-supplies was collected in Port Arthur, and even at the time of its premature surrender there was enough in the place to last for one and a half months. Moreover, the authorities on the spot were empowered to purchase locally, and as the resources of flour, barley, rice, and cattle in the district were unlimited, there was nothing to prevent them doing this. Many unreasonable reproaches have been hurled upon the War Department on account of the inadequate strength of the fortifications, but in the creation of this fortress great difficulties had to be overcome in a very short time. In estimating the ultimate strength of the place, it must not be forgotten that we only took possession of it at the end of 1897; that during 1898 and 1899 we had a very weak temporary armament on the sea-front; and that the cumbrous official procedure then in force made it impossible to spend quickly large sums on new fortress works. Firstly, the scheme had to be drawn up by the engineers on the spot, then it had to be sent to St. Petersburg to be examined by the Engineer Committee, and afterwards to be approved by the Tsar. In the case of Port Arthur, in order to accelerate this routine, special authority was deputed to the local authorities; while Major-General Velichko, a gifted and energetic Engineer officer, was sent to the Far East as the representative of the Headquarter Engineer Administration. Indeed, when the scheme of fortifications at Port Arthur was put before the Emperor for his approval, a large portion of the works had, contrary to the usual procedure, been commenced in anticipation of sanction. As everything was stopped by Admiral Alexeieff, who was commanding the Kuan-tung district, during the rising in Manchuria in 1900, we only had three years (1901, 1902, and 1903) to finish these tremendous permanent works. Considering the time available and the rocky soil, much indeed was done.

The armament, also, could not well have been provided more quickly. The ordnance had first to be made, and the orders for coast guns could only be executed slowly, as the Obukhoff factory was full of work for the Navy Department. The 10-inch and 11-inch Canet guns and large-calibre mortars ordered by the War Department were required simultaneously in all the Russian naval fortresses, especially in Libau, Kronstadt, and Vladivostok; but, as a matter of fact, Port Arthur and Vladivostok received most of them at the expense of our strength in the Baltic and Black Seas. While awaiting the demands for new ordnance to be complied with, we robbed other places, so as to bring up the Port Arthur armament to some hundreds of guns. In the first years of its occupation, also, everything for this place had to be sent round by sea. Notwithstanding all these difficulties, in four years (1899 to 1903) we succeeded in making Port Arthur so strong that the armament of its sea-front kept the whole Japanese fleet at a respectful distance, while the batteries on the land side withstood a severe test under the most unfavourable conditions. Not only were the enemy numerous and possessed of technical troops and material for the destruction of our defences, but being presented with a ready-made base in Dalny, they were able to land monster siege-guns. Once again, as at Sevastopol, our fleet was more useful on land than on its proper element. Yet the enemy lost twice as many men as the garrison, and Port Arthur held out almost twelve months from the commencement of the war. Even then its fall was premature.

Much attention was also paid to economy, and Treasury interests were by no means overlooked. The rapid concentration of troops, the large number of buildings that had to be constructed and the collection of supplies and stores for the commissariat and engineer departments, afforded ample scope for malpractices; but the appointment of selected officers at the head of these two great branches of the army, and of picked men as their assistants, was naturally productive of good results, and the reputation of these branches in no way suffered in the war.

I am confident that if future historians take into consideration the enormous distance of the theatre of war from the centre of Russia, they will not only be amazed at the results achieved by the War Department in strengthening our position there between the years 1895 and 1903, but will see how unfounded was the accusation that adequate steps were not taken to prepare for war. I repeat that, with such money as was available, and with the limited time at our disposal, a great and responsible work was accomplished, so much so that the Pri-Amur district, which was defenceless in 1895, was in 1903 so strong that a whole armed nation, in spite of its own great efforts and the entire uselessness of our fleet, was unable to touch our territory anywhere, with the exception of Saghalien. In 1900 I recorded my opinion that the Japanese would be able, in the event of war, to put into the field about 400,000 men with 1,100 guns. Of course, it was not possible for us to pour such a number of men into Manchuria and Pri-Amur. This would have necessitated many years, and the expenditure of millions, as well as the earlier construction of railway connection with the Far East.

The extent to which our strength in the Far East directly depended on railway efficiency is apparent from the fact that in our schemes of July, 1903, for the transport of troops, we could only count on two short military trains per diem. When instructions were given to carry four Rifle and one sapper battalions, two batteries, and 1,700 tons of military stores as quickly as possible to Port Arthur, it was calculated, according to the mobilization schemes, that it could not be done in less than twenty-two days, and we were unable to make use of the full carrying capacity of the newly built Eastern Chinese line for six months after the opening of the war. To improve it an immense amount of work in laying sidings and crossings, arranging for water-supply, ballasting the track, and the construction of buildings, was necessary. All this implied railing up a large number of sleepers, rails, building materials, and rolling-stock; construction trains were also required. During 1902 and 1903 the greater the number of troop-trains that ran, the less was the progress in the construction and improvement of the line. During the latter year the War Department took every advantage of the railway in order to increase our forces in the Far East, and it was only owing to the immense exertions of all the railway personnel that it was possible to transport the troops and military stores without stopping construction altogether. Notwithstanding the danger of such a course, we used the sea for the transport of troops as well as stores, and the great risk that we ran in doing so during the second half of 1903, after the viceroyalty had been formed, is illustrated by the fact that some of the consignments of preserved meat sent for Port Arthur fell into the hands of the enemy a few days before war was declared. It is clear, therefore, to what extent Bezobrazoff’s project for the rapid concentration of an army of 75,000 men in Southern Manchuria [sent to me in the summer of 1903] could be carried out. The scanty population and the absence of local resources in the Pri-Amur prohibited the maintenance of a large force there in peace-time. Over the wide stretch of territory from Lake Baikal to Vladivostok there are only about a million souls, and of this total only 400,000 are in the Amur and Maritime districts. From this can be gathered what an impossible burden to the State it would have been to attempt to maintain a large army in such a desert. Consequently we endeavoured to keep in Siberia and Pri-Amur only such a number as would be sufficient, in the first instance, to contain the enemy, and to form a screen, under cover of which the reinforcements could be concentrated. The conditions are the same on the western, Caucasian, and Afghanistan frontiers: the local troops form, so to speak, an impenetrable veil, under cover of which the main forces can be concentrated.

Though this screen consisted, in the Far East, of 172[50] battalions, of which more than 100 could take the field, it was never, of course, intended that the issue of the war should hang upon their efforts alone; but our difficulty lay in bringing up our main forces soon enough, for, as the enemy could concentrate quicker than we could, our reinforcements might be destroyed in detail as they arrived. So poor was the traffic capacity of the railway that we were neither able to send drafts to the advanced troops nor to support them in time with adequate reinforcements. If the arrangements had been such as I shall detail later on, we should have had double the number of men at Liao-yang and Mukden that we did have, and the issue of the battles must have been different. But the Ministries of Ways and Communications and of Finance were unable to carry out their promises, and our army only succeeded in concentrating eight months later than it should have done. By September, 1905, we were at last able to collect an army 1,000,000 strong, ready in every respect to commence a second campaign, with troops and material of a nature to guarantee success. We had received machine-guns, howitzers, shells, small-arm ammunition, field railways, wireless telegraphy, and technical stores of all sorts, and the senior officers were mostly fresh. The War Department had, with the co-operation of other departments, successfully accomplished a most colossal task. What single military authority would have admitted a few years ago the possibility of concentrating an army of a million men 5,400 miles away from its bases of supply and equipment by means of a poorly constructed single-line railway? Wonders were effected, but it was too late. Affairs in the interior of Russia for which the War Department could not be held responsible were the causes of the war being brought to an end at a time when decisive military operations should really have only just been beginning.

The re-armament of the artillery was accomplished as follows. Owing to the introduction of the quick-firing gun in other armies, we were compelled to adopt it. The superiority of the quick-firer over the old pattern was obvious, for, apart from its greater range and accuracy, each quick-firing battery, by reason of the greater number of shells it fires, can cause destruction equal to that of a much larger number of non-quick-firing guns. After prolonged and exhaustive trials of different patterns, amongst which were those submitted by the French factories of St. Chamond and Schneider, the German firm of Krupp, and the Russian Putiloff, preference was given to the Russian design, and in the beginning of 1900 the first lot of 1,500 guns was ordered, further trials being also arranged for. Not everybody was convinced of the undoubted superiority of the new type of weapon, and General Dragomiroff, who had always been opposed to quick-firing artillery, still remained a strong opponent of its adoption. In 1902 an order for a second lot of guns of a modified and improved pattern was given. To test the weapon thoroughly and under war conditions, the 2nd Battery of the Guards Rifle Artillery Division, armed with this new 3-inch quick-firer, was sent, in August, 1900, to the Far East, where the Boxer campaign was then in progress. The division took part in four expeditions, two in the valley of the Pei-chih-li, one in the hills and sandy steppes of Mongolia, and one in the hills of Eastern Manchuria. It covered altogether about 2,400 miles of different sorts of country, under variations in temperature of from 35° to 22° Réaumur. Most of the marches were as much as forty miles in length. The battery came into action eleven times, and fired 389 rounds at cavalry, infantry, buildings, and fortifications at ranges from point-blank to 2,500 yards. The results attained were quite satisfactory, particularly if the arduous nature of the campaign, the season of the year, and the haste with which the battery was formed, be taken into account. Unfortunately, the test of shelling houses and field works was made against an enemy who made little resistance, so that faults in the ammunition which have recently come to light were not then discovered. Wishing to have as simple an equipment as possible, we adopted one pattern of shell, which was efficient with time-fuze against troops in the open, and could be used with percussion-fuze against troops under cover; but we omitted to take into account the weakness of the explosive employed as burster. The projectile which did splendidly against exposed targets was of little use for destroying such cover as buildings, timber, or breastworks. In March, 1902, the necessary grant was made for re-arming batteries of the 2nd Category, and the orders were carried out in our arsenals. The re-armament made such progress that at the time of the outbreak of the Russo-Japanese War the whole of our artillery, with the exception of some Siberian batteries, was armed with quick-firers. At this time a quick-firing mountain-gun was also invented, which proved very effective. Generally speaking, the re-armament of the artillery was quickly and skilfully carried out.

But besides the four points above mentioned,[51] to which the Tsar was pleased to give his particular attention, the War Ministry had to make great efforts in other directions connected both with the life of the army and its efficiency. Amongst these tasks was that of improving our communications by building strategical roads and railways. These were constructed in order of urgency, according to a special scheme, as funds became available. Great efforts were made to push on with both the Bologoe-Siedlce and Orenberg-Tashkent lines, which were of particular strategic importance; and in 1899 considerable improvements were carried out in the Krasnovodsk-Kushk line.

In 1902 we began to consider what would be required in the five years 1904 to 1909, and in 1903 I submitted to the Finance Minister a demand for a supplementary grant of £82,500,000 in addition to the ordinary Budget for these five years. He only found it possible to grant £13,000,000. Numerous pressing measures which had been already postponed in 1899 had again to be put off with a hope that perhaps in 1910 Russia would be able to find means for the safeguarding of her most vital interests—in other words, for the defence of the Empire.

In submitting his annual report on the War Ministry in 1904—the first year of the new five-year period—Lieutenant-General Rediger, in his capacity of War Minister and as an acknowledged authority, made the following true and important observations:

“The existing defects in organization and equipment of our army are the direct result of the inadequate financial grants made ever since the war with Turkey. The sum allotted has never corresponded either to the actual requirements of the army or to the work it has had to do, but has been fixed entirely by the amount of money which seemed available. It has been made clear, in drawing up the scheme for the coming five years, that to satisfy only the most pressing needs a supplementary sum of £82,500,000[52] is required. Only £13,000,000 has been allotted. Thus the estimates for the current five years afford no hope of improving the existing situation.”

Owing to the large requirements of a peace army of 1,000,000, and the necessity for protecting frontiers stretching for over 11,000 miles, the Ministry of Finance had undoubtedly great difficulty in meeting the demands of the War Department. The requirements of the navy were also continually growing, with the result that less was available for the land forces. But if the Minister of Finance[53] had confined himself to his rôle of collector of revenue whereby to satisfy all the needs of the State, it could never have been suggested that the money so collected was spent except in accordance with actual requirements, for the decision as to which demands were the most urgent would not have been within this official’s province. As a matter of fact, our finances were managed in so curious a manner that the Finance Minister was not only the collector, but also the greatest expender of State moneys! Besides having to bear the ever-increasing outlay in his own department—for establishment, for expenses connected with the collection of taxes and the sale of Government liquor—he formed in his own Ministry subsections of the other Ministries, such as Ways and Communications, War, Navy, Education, Interior, Agriculture, and Foreign Affairs. So equipped, he planned, built, and administered the great Eastern Chinese Railway without any reference to the Minister of Ways and Communications; organized and commanded two army corps, one of Frontier Guards, and the other of guards for the railway, and actually chose the type of gun for their armament without reference to the Minister of War; initiated and managed a commercial fleet on the Pacific Ocean, and ran a flotilla of armed river steamboats, which might be regarded as the duty of the Naval Ministry. As regards the work of the Department of Education, the Finance Minister founded the higher technical institutions; as regards the sphere of Ministries of Interior and Agriculture, the Finance Minister had the most important administration—the so-called “alienated” strip of land set aside for the Eastern Chinese Railway—and the building of towns and villages, and the decision of questions concerning the taking up of land and its cultivation; as regards the Department of Foreign Affairs, the Finance Minister conducted negotiations with the highest representatives of the Chinese Administration, concluded treaties, and maintained his commercial and diplomatic agents in different parts of China and Korea. There is, I believe, a proverb to the effect that “charity begins at home.”[54] Is it to be wondered at, therefore, that the grants for the pet projects of the Finance Minister were more liberal than those for corresponding services required by the other Ministries? The appropriations for public education were cut down, but many millions were spent in constructing huge buildings for polytechnic institutes in St. Petersburg and Kieff, magnificent blocks for the Excise Department, and perfect palaces for officials. Immense sums were spent on the creation of the town of Dalny, on the Eastern Chinese Railway and its palatial offices in Harbin, and on the services connected with it. For this latter enterprise, which was both a commercial and State proposition (private as regards management, and official as regards the supply of funds), the money was mostly obtained from the so-called “surpluses.” These “surpluses” expanded in a manner unprecedented in the financial records, not only of our own country, but probably of the world, and in our case much to the detriment of the most pressing needs of all departments. The idea underlying the creation of a surplus was simplicity itself. While all demands for money made by the different departments were cut down, the estimated receipts from revenue were also reduced. The results were amazing. The excess of receipts over expenditure at a time when the most pressing requirements for national defence could not be met for lack of funds amounted in some years to over £20,000,000. The following table gives the “errors” in estimating made by the Finance Minister in calculating the revenue between 1894–1905: