The China Station (The Earl’s Other Son Series, Book 1)

by Wareham, Andrew

  “Yes, sir, I should have realised… Why, sir?”

  “Because China is going to erupt, Mr Roberts. Not in this year of 1897, with luck. But quite possibly next year, almost certainly by ’99. The touch paper has been laid, you might say – all that is lacking is the spark to light it.”

  Hanshan was in disorder when they arrived. There was smoke and the evidence of recent fires and the crowds in the streets were long on men and very short of women and children.

  “Either riot or Chinese New Year, sir. What’s the date?”

  “Damned if I know, Mr Roberts. Hold to anchor, all guns manned.”

  One twelve pounder and five six pounders was not a massive display of strength, Magnus thought. The Krupp battery he had so casually given away to Ping Wu seemed far more respectable by comparison.

  “Can you place the location of the fires, Mr Roberts?”

  “Waterfront, as is obvious, sir, but I cannot remember there was an awful lot of importance over in that particular part. Very marshy, and I remember it being described as a ‘bad joss’ area.”

  Magnus nodded thoughtfully.

  “Was there a mention of leprosy, by any perchance, Mr Roberts?”

  “That’s it, sir! Knew there was something about the place.”

  “I believe it was granted to the German Mission that wanted to set up here, Mr Roberts. I would suggest that they have just been found surplus to the local people’s requirements.”

  The bridge lookout interrupted their conversation.

  “Shoreboat, sir. One sampan. Big and official, sir.”

  Magnus put his Carl Zeiss of Kowloon binoculars to his eyes.

  “Young Mr Ping, Mr Roberts. Please to make him welcome… He is more formally attired, in the robes of a mandarin; he has risen in the world, I must imagine. Pipe him aboard, if you please.”

  “Pipes, sir? As if he was a real person, not just a Chink?”

  “Yes, Mr Roberts. He is a powerful man, and probably does not realise just how strong he is. If we can pander to him now, we may be able to sweep him along in our wake later. If the whole of China flares up, Mr Roberts, then Admiral Seymour says there might be ten million men under arms. Even if those arms are no more than bamboo spears, for the most part, they will be able to do us a lot of no good. So, some of the Chinese must be ours, must be able to see a greater advantage in aiding us than in destroying us. If Ping Wu comes to believe that he might become warlord of a province twice, or thrice, as large as Hanshan is today, then he will support us. Young Mr Ping has been promoted, by the looks of his robes, and that is probably because he has done well in bringing us to further Ping Wu’s interests. He must continue to believe that he will profit from us, in the same way that we profit from him.”

  The boatswain’s mates lined the side and blew upon their Spithead Nightingales, the thin shrilling familiar to any man who had watched a senior officer boarding a naval ship. Mr Ping knew their significance and, almost despite himself, was pleased by the gesture – which observers would report to his father before he returned ashore. He hoped his father might not feel that he was becoming too important, was stepping above his place…

  “Captain Lord Magnus, I had heard you were to be aboard a ship passing to the north, to Shanghai. I believe, sir, that I must presume upon my station so far as to offer my congratulations on the well-deserved Order that has been granted you, sir. My father was also gratified to hear of the decoration, sir.”

  “Thank you, Mr Ping. I am inclined to believe that the DSO also recognises the fine service of the officers and men of Bustard. I must hope that General Li’s soldiers did not suffer great casualties when the guns and fort were destroyed?”

  “Very few, Lord Magnus, sir. At most a handful. General Li has given orders for the creation of a few of far smaller forts along the creek and coast and to protect our borders in that area. Mere earthen walls, sir, and no higher than a man, but very thick, as you may imagine.”

  Very difficult targets for large naval guns, and fairly much impervious to small. Magnus smiled and commended General Li’s wisdom.

  “It will be wiser, sir, for the sailors and officers, and your good self, to remain aboard ship for the remainder of today, sir. Tomorrow, it will be possible to take a mooring at the wharves – ‘wharfside’, I believe, the word you use?”

  “Wharfside indeed, Mr Ping. I never fail to be amazed at your mastery of my tongue – not merely English, but the naval jargon as well.”

  “I loved the study, sir. I could have dwelt in a room in London for the rest of my life, Lord Magnus, reading at the University and listening to the ordinary people, and perhaps writing a book or two… But, I must serve my family, sir.”

  “Duty first, Mr Ping, as I am coming to discover. I shall be based at Shanghai for the next year or two, I believe, and will see little of Hanshan. I must make my thanks to you, sir, for your willing aid and friendship.”

  “I am sure you will travel to Hong Kong to speak to your Admiral, sir, at frequent intervals. Please be sure that your Racoon will be very welcome here.”

  Magnus made his thanks, mind racing – the damned fellow knew he was appointed to Racoon. How? Telegraph, or fast boats, perhaps – and flapping mouths, of a certainty. Anything said in Hong Kong was listened to – he must remember that.

  “Thank you, Mr Ping.”

  Mr Ping responded with a small bow of the head.

  “We were most glad, Lord Magnus, to hear that you had confounded your German enemies. Forged gold coins, indeed, sir!”

  “Unacceptable, Mr Ping. Yet I must venture to correct you, sir. Germany is not our enemy, I hope never will be. A sometimes misguided friend, perhaps. The Kaiser is, after all a close relative of the Queen-Empress.”

  “I stand corrected, Lord Magnus.”

  Mr Ping made a play of peering shorewards.

  “I do believe I see my father’s judicial arm at work, sir.”

  He pointed to a procession marching along the wharves, a mixture of men in rich robes and soldiers and the familiar figures of the two huge executioners.

  There were figures stumbling along in the middle, stripped to the waist and wearing the cangue, a wide and heavy board not unlike the mediaeval pillory, but carried horizontally on the shoulders.

  “The judges must have heard – and refused – the appeals of the wicked creatures, Lord Magnus.”

  Magnus used his binoculars again, confirmed that the figures were white and not all male.

  “Who may they be, Mr Ping? Not British, I very much trust?”

  “No, Lord Magnus. German. So-called missionaries, false Men of God, shown to be impostors by the crimes they certainly committed against poor Chinese people.”

  Magnus was certain that Mr Ping cared not at all for the fate of lesser people among his countrymen. He bowed his head gravely.

  “Buying children, Mr Ping? It happens so often, I am told.”

  “Exactly so, Lord Magnus. Vile slavery. They claim, falsely of course, to reward those who bring street orphans to them for succour. We know what the truth of the matter is.”

  Magnus nodded – he thought that he might well do so. He also knew that he was not about to take any action to save the lives of German missionaries – sadly, there had to be losers in the Game.

  “I presume the ordinary people discovered what was happening and rose in righteous anger against them, Mr Ping? Your soldiers hastened to restore the peace and, discovering evidence, took them into custody and then placed them before a court of justice?”

  It was Mr Ping’s turn to bow and agree.

  “It is justice that they must suffer the penalty for their crimes at the location at which they occurred, Lord Magnus. Have you heard from Westminster of late, sir? I am told by acquaintances I still retain that the good Lord Eskdale is to take a wife to his bosom. A daughter to the Hoare’s Banking House, one understands.”

  “Ah, that I had not heard, Mr Ping. Perhaps the wisest decision of my brother’s life, M
r Ping. He must marry, of course, there has to be an heir. To marry into wealth is an act that must be commended!”

  “One can only agree, Lord Magnus.”

  Mr Ping said nothing about the downgrading of Magnus’ status when his brother fathered an heir.

  They watched as the procession halted at the burned-out ruins of the mission and the cangues were removed and the men were forced to kneel to the swords. The women were whipped and driven towards a junk; they were pushed aboard unceremoniously.

  “The females cannot be held wholly responsible for the wickedness of the men, Lord Magnus. They are to be transported south to Macao, where there is a ship of the German Navy, we are told. They may be transported back to Germany.”

  “That is an act of some generosity, Mr Ping. I shall report to Admiral Seymour that the women were treated with some respect.”

  “I doubt that is the words I would use, Lord Magnus, after they have been three days in the hands of the gaolers. Not my business, however, sir. I should go ashore now, sir. May I beg the pleasure of your company at the wharf at nine o’clock of the morning, sir?”

  “I am entirely at your disposal, Mr Ping.”

  “Stage-managed, Mr Roberts. A statement that they are our allies, for the next few months, probably. They have offended the Germans very thoroughly and will not be forgiven before Christmas at least.”

  Mr Roberts had not yet grown a shell of cynicism; he was inclined to be outraged.

  Mountjoy was guided into the wharf at dawn, the town returned to normality and all quiet and busy, to the amusement of all.

  Magnus took his seat in his carrying chair and was taken to his audience with Ping Wu; he was treated with respect and almost a degree of affection.

  “The little affair with the fortress, Lord Magnus, has pleased my father greatly. No less than a battleship appearing to come to his assistance, as all observers will note; one might have expected an armoured cruiser, but the most generous gesture was made. It does state that Hanshan is a dear friend of Her Gracious Majesty Victoria, Queen-Empress of Britain and India, and that is truly an honour for any man of China. It makes very clear that those neighbours who might have thought of offering even a little hostility must now send gifts and express friendship to Ping Wu. The first such offerings have already arrived.”

  Magnus smiled and announced just how happy he was that such should be the case. He had been used, he knew, manipulated and put into a position where he had been forced to call for aid from Hong Kong, to turn a commonplace and minor action by a sloop into a full-blooded naval intervention. He had been very lucky – winning brought forgiveness for most sins.

  “For convenience, Lord Magnus, Ping Wu has sent a little box by way of the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank to your esteemed brother at Westminster. It is easier than to carry such yourself and then make the arrangements in Shanghai, and is perhaps also more discreet.”

  “That is very good of you, Mr Ping. Please to express my most sincere thanks to your good father.”

  Nothing was a secret in Hong Kong, it seemed, including details of one’s banking transactions. He wondered just how big a box it might have been – possibly one that might not have fit comfortably in his pocket.

  “You may have heard of friendly brotherhoods that we have in China, Lord Magnus, sometimes referred to by the rather quaint name of ‘Triad’.”

  Magnus had heard of the triads, understood them to be wicked and evil manifestations of all that was worst in the Chinese Empire. Admiral Seymour had in fact stated that Ping Wu was ‘having trouble’ with a triad. He cautiously said that he had met with the name but did not really know what it signified.

  “Many of the compradors are leaders of triads, Lord Magnus, and as such share their undoubted power with them. They are in many ways societies that seek to aid the transition of China from the Dark Ages to the Modern World. The Empress Cixi has little love for the whole idea of modernity, so the triads must remain in essence secret. It is very likely that a leader of a triad that has much influence in Hanshan might wish to suggest ways in which there could be a mutual cooperation in Shanghai. The triads hear much, and could perhaps place useful information in your hands…”

  Magnus knew that Captain Hawkins would demand that he accepted the offer. He wondered what he would be forced to offer in exchange as he smiled and said how delighted he must be to continue in close contact with his dear friends in Hanshan. Presumably Ping Wu had been able to use the prestige the Navy had lent him to gain a degree of influence in the Triad in question – he might even be the leader of that Triad now, and that, from all Magnus had heard, would give Ping Wu some degree of authority in the whole of China.

  Mountjoy remained another twenty-four hours in Hanshan, enjoying the hospitality of the generous folk there. The crew were much in favour. Their previous captain had been of the strait-laced variety, had disapproved of the bulk of sailors’ amusements; the new man seemed very promising. Perhaps their time in Shanghai would be equally enjoyable.

  Shanghai was two cities, having very little to do with each other despite sharing the same few square miles of China.

  On the one hand there was the Bund, the wharves and the broad, open working area to their rear, and the streets of tall brick and stone European buildings; the area also comprised of banks, offices and warehouses. There was a plethora of hotels, rich shops, grand residences and even a few well-manicured green parks. This was the land of the foreign masters, Chinese present in their thousands, but permitted because they were useful, not there by any right. The Sikh police were omnipresent, and rigorous in their duty, saluting the Europeans and driving the Chinese to their work. In stark contrast, at the shoulder of the Bund, literally touching, was the Chinese town. It was a mixture of ancient buildings and more recently built shanties. The place was swarming with people anxious to make a living – to earn the very few pennies they needed to keep their families alive. The Chinese supplied labour, often highly skilled, and sought to keep their jobs. A man employed even menially by one of the Hongs was far better off financially than he would have been in his home village, while a foreman or senior clerk kept servants of his own. The Chinese to a great extent supported and valued the Europeans of the Bund, and would have been horrified at any attempt to evict them; they also partly hated the gwailos, naturally, but saw them as a necessary evil.

  Mountjoy tied up at the naval pontoons – the tides ran high and vessels did not use the wharf directly – and decanted Magnus into the alien land of the Europeans of Shanghai – a strange breed even by the standards of Hong Kong.

  A glance showed six vessels of the Royal Navy, and a German, two French and a Russian as well, sloops and cruisers, mostly ocean-going rather than riverine.

  Racoon was there, in good condition, smart, awnings scrubbed white and set taut, fore and aft. Her conning tower showed brightly white, fresh painted and gleaming. Set on the old quarterdeck and astern of the funnel, that would be smoke-stained and would need scrubbing and regular repainting by an alert boatswain. The two Albacores were there, old-fashioned, even more so than Bustard had been, but they looked tidy. He spotted two sloops, wondered which was his.

  Magnus had been told that the Senior Naval Officer on station had offices ashore, would be found there rather than on a flagship. He looked about him for the Ensign, spotted the flag just a few yards away.

  “Captain Erskine? I am Magnus Campbell, due to take over on Racoon.”

  “So you are, Lord Magnus, I am very pleased to see you again.”

  Erskine had been the Commander of the battleship Trafalgar, when Magnus had been a junior lieutenant on the admiral’s staff. The two had established a deep dislike for each other; being on the staff, Magnus had been untouchable, had been free to sneer and mock, which he had done, gleefully. Erskine was a short man, and one who ran to flesh aboard ship where exercise was so limited; he had not enjoyed the nickname ‘Fatty Foreskin’ that Magnus had bestowed upon him.

  “I share yo
ur sentiments, sir. As well as Racoon, I understand I am to have Mountjoy, Gannet, Shearwater and an ‘ancient sloop’, name unknown to me.”

  “Mutine, Lord Magnus. She is yours for a year but must return Home early in ’98. She is slow under steam but is a good sea boat, and she will return under canvas.”

  “How is she armed, sir? I remember her class as being a product of the early eighties, when they re-gunned from muzzle-loaders, I think.”

  “She is heavily armed, Lord Magnus – ten of five-inch, and as many machine guns. The Gardners have been replaced by Maxims, a mixture of half-inch and rifle calibre. She has four Nordenfelts.”

  “Useful, sir. My recent experience has biased me in favour of the machine gun. Will it be possible to put machine guns aboard the Albacores?”

  “No. None to hand.”

  “Pity. Who do I relieve as captain of Racoon, sir?”

  “You do not. Her captain went missing a few miles upriver. Disappeared in the night. He left a note which unfortunately could not be suppressed – it reached the hands of Naval Intelligence by way of the First Lieutenant. It should have come to me, and I can assure you it would have gone no further! Black mark on his personal record!”

  “What did the note say, sir? The First must have read it, to know that it must go to Intelligence.”

  “Woman trouble – damned fool had somehow become involved with a Russian female – married, of course. He had been discovered in bed with her and the detail was to be published if he did not give certain information about our intentions in case of war. He has a wife, with money, who returned to England last year, taking the boys to school – all the normal stuff, he had a family to lose. He gave a little of information, wrote it, in his own handwriting, would you believe! Needless to say, they demanded much more of him. He took the ‘honourable’ way out.”

  “Damned fool – never give those people anything. He would have been better to have gone straight to Intelligence himself. What state is the ship in?”