by Amitav Ghosh
But what does that mean, Bahram-bhai?
It means we have to find a way Zadig Bey, our own way. We have to move our businesses to places where the laws can’t be changed to shut us out.
What places?
I don’t know. Maybe England itself. Or elsewhere in Europe. Perhaps even China. Or perhaps – here Bahram flashed Zadig a sly smile – perhaps we could have a place of our own. With enough money we might be able to buy a country, no? A small one?
Zadig burst out laughing. Bahram-bhai – it sounds as if you’re preaching sedition!
Sedition? Bahram laughed too, but mostly in astonishment. Arré, what bakwaas! I am the most loyal of the Queen’s subjects …
Before he could say any more, the door flew open.
Patrão!
Vico had climbed the stairs so fast he had to stop and catch his breath.
Patrão – a runner has just come! From Mr Wetmore. A meeting has been called. You must go at once!
*
March 21
Once again, Puggly dear, I find myself resuming an interrupted letter – and I cannot say I am at all sorry for never was an interruption more welcome than this last! Suffice it to say that shortly after I responded to the knock on my door, I found myself in a boat with Charlie King, sailing towards French Island!
French Island lies behind Honam, in the direction of Whampoa: it is a considerable body of land, with hills, valleys and plains, all thickly cultivated. The foreigners’ cemetery lies on a wooded slope, a short distance from the river. It is a tranquil spot and seems all the more so because the busy waters of the Pearl River are so close by, scarcely a mile away. A stream runs past the cemetery and its shores are lined with tall trees that throw their shadows upon the graves. The scene has something of the clouded melancholy that haunts the rural landscapes of Mr Constable: some of the headstones are tilted and overgrown, and some are cocooned in moss. To read the inscriptions is a piteous thing, for like James Perit, many of those who lie there were snatched away when scarcely past their boyhood – I could not help reflecting that were I to be laid there now, I would be older than many.
Mr Perit’s grave is among the few that are well-tended (Charlie pays a nearby villager to look after it). He had brought flowers with him, and when he knelt to say a prayer I saw a tear escape his eye and go rolling down his cheek.
I must not dwell too long on this, Puggly dear, or else I too will not be able to restrain my tears: I shall content myself with saying merely that it was as tender a scene as I have ever witnessed (and you may be sure that I was not as composed then as I am now – indeed my handkerchief was quite ruined).
Afterwards, when we were making our way back, Charlie spoke at some length about his departed Friend, and I understood that this loss is in no small part responsible for his deep attachment to China. Mr Perit’s grave has become for him an anchor, as it were, tying him to this land. For that reason, and many others, it is impossible for him to think of the Chinese as a race apart: he sees them as a people who have their virtues and their failings, as do people everywhere – but to exploit the more feeble-minded among them by pandering to their weaknesses seems to him just as unconscionable here as it would be anywhere else. And the worst of it, in his view, is that the foreign trade has created, in the eyes of the Chinese, an inseparable linkage between opium and Christianity. Since many of the men who peddle the drug are loud in proclaiming their piety it is inevitable that the Chinese should draw the inference that there is no conflict between trafficking in opium and the strict observance of Christianity. It is intolerable to Charlie that a simple moral principle should be clearer to pagans than to Christians.
In speaking of these things Charlie’s mien became so troubled that I knew some event of recent provenance was weighing on him – and I was right.
Jacqua and I have been so sequestered of late, Puggly dear (and so happily so), that I had but little notion of all that has been happening in Fanqui-town – although it must be said that I doubt it would have been much different had I been out and about (for I am scarcely the kind of fellow who is likely to be included in the deliberations of Serious Men). But unlike me, Charlie is absolutely in the thick of it, largely by virtue of his membership in the Committee. What he told me about the most recent developments came as a complete revelation (and I cannot conceal from you, Puggly dear, that I find it rather thrilling to be taken into his confidence on such weighty matters).
It appears that the Chamber of Commerce has recently received an edict from the newly arrived Commissioner demanding that they surrender all the opium that is currently stored in their ships; they have also been asked to furnish bonds, pledging that they will never again smuggle opium into China. This has caused, as you may imagine, quite a flutter in the Committee: many of them have enormous cargoes of opium stored in their ships, and they are not the kind of men who will tamely surrender vast quantities of wealth in response to a mere edict, no matter how sternly couched. At their last meeting Charlie exerted himself to explain to the others that their losses would only be temporary and could be quickly offset by trading in other articles – his own firm, Olyphant & Co., has demonstrated for all the world to see that it is perfectly possible to make substantial profits even without dealing in opium.
But, of course, no man can see reason if he is blindfolded by his wallet. Charlie was brushed rudely aside and the Committee decided instead to follow Mr Dent’s advice, which was to send a letter to the Consoo House saying that the Chamber was giving due and respectful consideration to the Commissioner’s edict, but the matter would require several more days of deliberation, investigation, consultation &c. &c.
Charlie was not at all in accord with Mr Dent’s letter – yet such were the circumstances that he found himself in the unfortunate position of having to accompany the delegation that delivered it to the Consoo House. It so happens, you see, that Charlie is from Brooklyn, the same city as the President of the Chamber, Mr Wetmore. Their families are acquainted with each other and Mr Wetmore has known Charlie since he was a boy. He has always had a fondness for Charlie and has often gone out of his way to be of help to him. This was why Charlie could not refuse Mr Wetmore when he asked him to go with him to the Consoo House.
On arriving there they were met by Howqua, Mowqua and several other members of the Co-Hong guild, including Punhyqua (who has at last been set free). These men are all old friends of theirs, so it was with heavy hearts that they communicated to them the contents of the Chamber’s letter – but their regrets were as nothing compared to the shock and grief of the Co-Hong merchants.
Howqua, Mowqua and their colleagues are all shrewd businessmen, of course, but they are perhaps overly trusting of their foreign friends: evidently they had persuaded themselves that the foreigners would not fail to take account of the great danger they were in. When they understood that the Chamber had decided, in effect, to deliberately disregard the Commissioner’s deadline, they were utterly stricken: they are certain that the Commissioner will execute some of their number and it was unimaginable to them that the foreigners would put their lives in jeopardy for a sum of money that is, in the context of the fortunes they have all earned over their lifetimes, quite small. Their lamentations were terrible to behold, said Charlie; and the worst of it was to observe the grief of their sons and retainers, many of whom wept unashamedly.
As if this were not trying enough, the delegation was then taken to meet with a group of mandarins: Commissioner Lin was not present himself, but several of his most trusted deputies and lieutenants were there. When informed of the contents of the Chamber’s letter they too were utterly shocked – they understood at once that the Chamber’s intention was to delay and prevaricate, and they warned the foreigners that Commissioner Lin was not a man who would yield to such tactics. They then proceeded to question the delegates closely – yet at no point, said Charlie, were the foreigners subjected to the least discourtesy: indeed, when the meeting finally ended they were all g
iven presents – silk and tea!
This is perhaps the most telling part of it, says Charlie; throughout this affair the behaviour of the Chinese has been absolutely exemplary: they have made the most reasonable of requests – that the foreign merchants surrender their contraband and pledge never to smuggle opium again, which is not much to ask. The foreigners, on the other hand, have conducted themselves in such a fashion as to utterly discredit their claims of belonging to a Higher Civilization: they know full well that if any Chinese were to attempt to smuggle drugs into their countries, they would be sent instantly to the gallows.
But all is not lost: Charlie was able to retrieve one small victory from the ashes of the day. On being released from the Consoo House Mr Wetmore, who was in a great state, fairly begged Charlie to accompany him to his house. This he agreed to do, and a very good thing it turned out to be. Now that Mr Jardine’s baneful influence has been removed, Mr Wetmore has become much more malleable (at one point he broke into tears and absolutely clung to Charlie!). After several hours of persuasion and many appeals to his conscience Charlie was able to bring him around to his own point of view! Right there they drew up a letter formally acceding to Commissioner Lin’s demands! It is to be presented to the Committee today so Mr Wetmore has spent the whole morning with Mr Fearon, the translator, so that a copy may be dispatched to the Commissioner as soon as it is signed by the rest of the Committee. But of course there is no knowing whether they will indeed agree to sign it. There will be quite a battle, Charlie thinks, but now that he has Mr Wetmore on his side he feels that victory may be within his grasp! The outcome will depend on one or two members and Charlie is hopeful of being able to sway at least one of them – Mr Bahram Moddie. He is, at heart, a good man, says Charlie – he went to see him a few weeks ago, and he seemed to be utterly haunted by the events of the last few months. At the very mention of the opium-dealer who was executed on December 12th he started as if he had seen a ghost! This is a sign, Charlie claims, that Mr Moddie’s conscience has been touched: it is not impossible therefore that at the moment of decision he will choose to do what is right.
I confess, Puggly dear, that I cannot but marvel at the unflinching way in which Charlie has stepped into the battle. When I look at his face I see the delicately cast countenance of the young Géricault – but this is, I think, utterly deceptive: he is at heart the fiercest of warriors. When I ask him where he finds the strength to stand alone against all his tribe, he quotes a line of Scripture: Thou shalt not follow a multitude to do evil! If ever any man was an army of one, it is he.
… and I do believe the drums of war are about to sound! I can see from my window the members of the Committee, heading towards the Chamber of Commerce! There is Mr Wetmore, flanked by Charlie – and there is Mr Slade, on the warpath as usual, and there, in the van, is Mr Moddie!
Who would ever have thought that a Chamber of Commerce could be the scene of such storms and convulsions? Unlike Charlie I am neither a sepoy nor a bawhawder but this is one instance in which I would dearly love to ride beside him, shoulder to shoulder (or should it be saddle to saddle?). Can you imagine the scene, Puggly dear: your poor Robin charging into a boardroom to do battle with a paltan of banyans?
And speaking of drama, my sweet Puggli-billi, you are certainly well enough acquainted with me to know that I would save the best for the last – and so I have but I must get to it now for Baburao is leaving for the Islands this afternoon and he has promised to make sure that this letter gets to you tomorrow!
You will understand, I am sure, that my memory of what passed between me and Mr Chan is obscured just a little by the fumes of that shared pipe. But I do recall that he told me, as I was leaving, that he is eager to see your plants and has put together a collection that will also be of interest to you. Unfortunately there is very little time, for Mr Chan fears that he may soon have to travel again – and besides, the situation here is so uncertain that no one knows how long the river will remain open. In sum the exchange must be done at once if it is to happen at all.
Since neither you nor Mr Penrose are able to travel to Canton at this time, I fear you have no choice but to trust me to conduct this exchange on your behalf. I suggest you send a set of five or six plants to me with Baburao, and I will undertake to obtain for you the best bargain I can get. I should warn you, however, that I do not know whether I will be able to procure your golden camellias – I did ask Mr Chan whether he had succeeded in obtaining a specimen, but as I recall, he was very evasive about this matter.
In any event, Your Puggliness, you must make haste!
*
Bahram was among the last to enter the boardroom. Mr Wetmore was already in his seat, at the head of the table: his grooming, Bahram noticed, was as fastidious as ever, but his face was lined and weary, and at one end of his mouth an odd little tic had appeared, tugging his lips into spasmodic grimaces.
Bahram went to his usual place and was surprised to see that the chair beside his was still empty. He leant over to Mr Slade and whispered: ‘Where is Dent?’
Mr Slade shrugged. ‘Probably detained by some urgent business – it’s not like him to be late.’
With everyone else present, Mr Wetmore waited for only a minute or two before asking for the doors to be closed. ‘Gentlemen,’ he began, ‘I am sorry Mr Dent is not here yet, but I fear we cannot wait any longer: our time is short and I am sure you are all eager to know the outcome of our recent visit to the Consoo House. I beg your indulgence if I have tried your patience in this regard, but as you will see, certain documents needed to be translated before we could meet. These I will presently circulate, but let me begin by providing you with a brief account of what transpired. On entering the Consoo House we were met by several of our friends from the Co-Hong, among them Mowqua, Punhyqua, Mingqua, Puankhequa and others. They were, I might add, in a state of extraordinary perturbation – something akin to terror. I think Mr King will bear me out on this.’
Charles King was seated at the other end of the table; turning to look at him Bahram saw that his face too was drawn with fatigue. His voice, however, was firm and clear: ‘I have had the misfortune before of looking into the eyes of men who have been seized by mortal fear. I cannot convey to you, gentlemen, how painful it was to see that very look in the eyes of these old friends of ours – friends at whose tables we have supped, friends who have made us rich and to whom we owe the comforts we enjoy.’
These words were still hanging in the air when the door opened to admit Dent.
‘Gentlemen, my apologies – please excuse my tardiness.’
‘You have come in good time, Mr Dent,’ said Mr Wetmore. ‘I am sure you will be interested in the document I am about to read out.’ He picked up a sheet of paper and looked around the table. ‘This is the edict the Imperial Commissioner has served upon the Co-Hong guild: it is this document that has struck terror into their hearts. I think it behoves us, gentlemen, to give our attention to the Commissioner’s own words.’
Mr Wetmore looked around the table: ‘With your permission, gentlemen?’
‘Go ahead.’
‘Let’s hear what he has to say.’
‘ “While opium is pervading and filling with its poisonous influence the whole empire, the Hong merchants still continue to indiscriminately give sureties for foreign traders declaring that their ships have brought none of it. Are they not indeed dreaming, and snoring in their dreams? What is this but to ‘shut the ear while the jingling bell is stolen?’ The original Co-Hong merchants were men of property and family and would never have descended to this stage of degradation; yet all now are equally involved in the stench of it. Truly I burn with shame for you, the present incumbents of the Co-Hong: with you there seems to be no other consideration than that of growing rich.
‘ “The utter annihilation of the opium trade is now my first object and I have given commands to the foreigners to deliver up to the government all the opium which they have on board their warehousing vessels. I
have called on them also to sign a bond, in Chinese and in foreign languages, declaring that henceforth they will never venture to bring opium into China again; and if any should again be brought, their property shall be confiscated by the government. These commands are now given to you Co-Hong merchants, that you may convey them to the foreign factories and plainly make them known. It is imperative that the forceful character of the commands be made clearly to appear. It is imperative for you Co-Hong merchants to act with energy and loftiness of purpose to unite in enjoining these commands upon the foreign merchants. Three days are prescribed within which you must obtain the required bonds and merchandise. If it is found that this matter cannot be resolved by you immediately, then it will be inferred that you are acting in concert with foreign criminals, and I, the High Commissioner, will forthwith solicit the royal death warrant and select for execution one or two of you. Do not claim you did not receive timely notice.’
