Stössel's influence was not confined to the question of slaughter cattle. As the armies in the north gradually concentrated, a horde of officers turned up in Port Arthur trying to purchase supplies of every sort, and whole vans of sugar, flour, salt, tinned milk, green foods, preserved fish and meat, etc., were actually allowed to be taken from this important fortress--a fortress separated by many thousands of miles from Russia, blockaded by sea, and expecting, according to the natural course of events, to be blockaded also by land. General Stössel, who wrote in his order No. 126, of February 27, that there could be no retirement, since the sea was on three sides and the enemy on the fourth, allowed--nay, encouraged--the export of articles of vital importance. There was, consequently, in October, November, and December a shortage, which brought on an epidemic of scurvy. To all protests he replied that Kuropatkin would never allow us to be cut off, and, if we were cut off, it would only be for a very brief period. When the protests were repeated he 'came the senior officer,' and said that, as Commandant of the besieged Fortress, he would stand no interference. The civil authorities, who were under him, watched with silent indifference the melting away of our reserves. Several of the shopkeepers, indeed, hearing that supplies of every kind were badly wanted by the army in the north, themselves began to despatch truckloads. The state of affairs was almost a burlesque. Port Arthur, instead of being a fortress preparing itself for a siege, might have been a sort of general market, a principal supply depôt for the main army, to which every one came to do business, or to gamble, and dissipate, for although Stössel allowed only three restaurants for general use and closed the gambling hells, rowdyism was rampant and money flowed like water. Never in my life have I witnessed such orgies as I saw that February in Arthur before the arrival of General Smirnoff, and this in spite of the most severe efforts at prevention. Whenever I passed by the fire-brigade station in the morning I heard the swish of whips and the heartrending shrieks of men being flogged for drunkenness, for permission had been given to the Chief of the Police to correct drunkards with some 'homely treatment.' The usual procedure was as follows: The men to be corrected--workmen, cab-drivers, Chinamen--were drawn up in the prison courtyard. The inspector presented the charge-sheet, and the police-officer stopped in front of each prisoner. 'What have you to say?' 'Sir, yesterday----' 'One hundred lashes, two weeks' cells. Next. What have you to say?' 'Yesterday, sir----' 'One hundred lashes, to-day and to-morrow.'