by Robert Wang
Meanwhile, Special Emissary Lin Tse-Hsu was engaged in some diplomacy of his own. He appealed directly to Queen Victoria to put a stop to the British smugglers who were bringing an illegal drug into the Celestial Empire. His letters were never delivered.
When the debates commenced on April 7, 1840, the House of Commons heard arguments on the merits of dispatching the navy in the name of British honor and the moral imperative of restraint. It wasn’t long before the Tory minority transformed the debates into a platform to decry the incompetent handling of the China situation by the Whigs. Both parties argued passionately on the subject for three consecutive nights, and in the end, the vote was 271 to 262 to authorize an attack on China by the Royal Navy. It was Britain’s patriotic duty, the winners maintained, to defend her honor against insults perpetrated by China, although Lord Palmerston had happened to read a petition from representatives of important British trading firms in China that stated “unless measures of the government are followed up with firmness and energy, the trade with China can no longer be conducted with security to life and property, or with credit or advantage to the British nation.” The first signature at the bottom of this petition was William Jardine’s.
When the matter was brought up in the House of Lords, Prime Minister William Lamb, Lord Melbourne, remarked that opium “was probably not as dangerous an article as spirits.” The Duke of Wellington praised Captain Charles Elliot and declared that in fifty years of public service, he had not “seen insults and injuries to equal those heaped upon the English in Canton.” The measure to descend upon a reclusive nation and its antiquated defenses with the full might of the greatest naval force in the world passed easily in the House of Lords.
Lord Palmerston, in anticipation of victory in Parliament, was already preparing for deployment. Using intelligence from Jardine, he organized a two-pronged expedition force—by sea and then by land—with enough firepower to blast its way to Peking, if necessary. Powerful gunships were called in from Australia and other territories. The invasion force would include the elite sepoys of the Thirty-Seventh Regiment and thousands of soldiers and marines from the home countries. If Jardine’s reports were correct, Palmerston knew, the Chinese defenses would crumble within days.
“Peculiar weather this year, sir,” Higgins commented as he watched the skies from the upper deck of the Scaleby Castle.
“That’s a fact, Mr. Higgins. We had early typhoons, and now we’ve nearly missed the winds home.” Captain Robertson was relieved that his first officer had made it back from his rescue mission just in time to sail the Castle home. The seas were uncommonly rough, and Robertson needed a competent man to keep her on course and out of danger. He never brought it up, but he was also relieved that Higgins had come on board alone. The Chinese wife of an English sailor was no easy billet, he reckoned, alone in a foreign country with her husband at sea.
When the Scaleby Castle dropped anchor in London, Higgins received a month of leave while Jardine was busy soliciting government and popular support for an attack on China and the Jardine and Matheson Company waited to see which way the political winds would blow. Higgins took this opportunity to return home to Yorkshire. He was excited to visit his parents and announce his engagement.
Emmett and Josephine Higgins were already enormously proud of their son, who had done so well for himself that he could provide a comfortable home for them and pay for his father’s medicines, and the only thing that would make them happier, he knew, was if he married a nice girl and started a family. In fact, Josephine had already spoken with the mothers of several charming young ladies who were quite interested in that bookish lad Travers now that he was a first officer on a merchant ship with a very respectable income and good prospects.
Higgins received a hero’s welcome. He was flooded with invitations to tea and supper with local families—even the ones without marriageable daughters—who were eager to hear tales of his adventures overseas, and Higgins was happy to oblige. He regaled his hosts with the exotic sights, sounds, and smells of India: the elephants and bulls roaming the streets, the jewel-bright colors of the women’s frocks, the queer calls from the mosques, and the strange but delectable spices in the food.
Noble Chinese ladies, he told his friends and neighbors, had feet the size of a pony’s hooves and were carried everywhere. The women wore trousers, and the men wore their hair in a long plait down their back like a schoolgirl. You could buy stupendous dumplings filled with pork from a cart on the street for pennies. The beautiful silk and porcelain that was all the rage in London was offered in every shop, along with pounds of the highest quality tea—samples of which he had brought with him and distributed generously to the village ladies, which only made him more eligible in their eyes.
When the ladies retired and Higgins took a dram of whiskey with the men, he told them the stirring tale of his adventure in Macau, how a typhoon forced him and his mates to take shelter in a Chinese inn, where he inadvertently stabbed a maidservant in a drunken brawl and then saved the life of a Chinese lord when an uprooted tree fell on him. He elected to reserve the more complicated details of that night for another time.
After a week of such suppers, Higgins began to feel like a liar and summoned the courage to tell his parents about Su-Mei. He was already having difficulties fending off the attentions of the young ladies and their mothers, and it was time everyone knew he was no longer an eligible bachelor.
He would do it the next morning at breakfast, he decided. This wasn’t a conversation to have after a few whiskies. They want me to be happy, he convinced himself. They will love Su-Mei as I do when they meet her and see how beautiful and kind and intelligent she is. And she’ll be a fine, dutiful daughter-in-law, keeping the old ones company when I’m at sea.
“Mother, Father, I’ve something to tell you,” he announced the following morning as he sat down to breakfast. His parents looked up from their porridge bowls, curious. A gleam of expectation appeared in his mother’s eyes.
“Oh, Travers, let me guess—it’s the Sturgess girl, isn’t it? Or dear Abigail Marsden? Such a lovely complexion she has!”
“Well, Mother, it’s true that I have a sweetheart,” Higgins said, “and we are engaged to be married. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I met her in Macau, which is a sort of European district of China.”
“Good heavens, lad, but ye have been busy on your travels!” His father clapped him on the shoulder. “How did ye meet an English lass in China? Is her father one o’ your employers?”
“No, Father, she’s not British.”
Emmett Higgins frowned slightly. “A Continental bride, eh? Surely not American?”
Higgins straightened his spine and spoke rapidly without looking at either of his parents. “She’s Chinese, actually. Her name is Su-Mei Lee, and she is from a very noble family, quite wealthy, in fact, although her parents are dead now.” The clock above the fireplace ticked loudly in the suddenly still cottage. “She was staying in a convent in Macau—she’s a very respectable girl, raised with the utmost propriety.” He blushed briefly, thinking of their nights alone. “And she’s learning English. In fact, that’s how I got to know her. I won her in an auction.”
His father stared. “The hell you say!”
“I mean, I won Chinese lessons from her, in a church auction. She taught me Chinese, and I taught her English, and we—we fell in love.” He realized he was rambling and fell silent.
His father ignored him. “This, madam, is what comes of raisin’ up our son to be summat he ain’t. Schoolin’ and going off to sea.” He slapped the table, making the cups rattle in their saucers. “And now he’s gone off and forgot he’s bloody English!”
“Father, please—”
“Not a word, lad, not a bloody word!” Emmett jabbed a gnarled forefinger at the newspaper folded on the corner of the table. “Do ye not read the papers? These heathen yellow buggers steal Crown property and insult us and hold our people hostage, and you’ve ‘fallen i
n love’ wi’ one of ’em, eh?”
“Sir, no! I don’t know what the papers are saying, but the Chinese people mean us no harm. They only want us to stop bringing opium into their country. They say too many of their people are getting addicted.” Higgins recalled the cold, dead face of Chu Sing on the ground in a foul-smelling alley.
“How is that our bloody problem? Nation o’ drug addicts, and ye want to marry one! Do ye not know we’re at war with ’em?”
Higgins dropped the spoon he’d just lifted. “War?”
“Aye, war! And not a moment too soon. So I’ll not hear any more bloody talk of ye marryin’ one o’ them China ladies. Bloody murderers and thieves and drug addicts, like to kill us all.”
“Och, Travers, what’s wrong with a nice Yorkshire girl, eh?” his mother asked. “This Sue May Leigh, she won’t know at all how to keep house for you, and she’ll be so lonely when you’re gone to sea. And think of the children, lad—schoolboys can be so cruel.”
Schoolboys aren’t the only ones, thought Higgins. “If you’ll excuse me, Mother, I’m off for a bit of a walk.” As he passed his father, he snatched the newspaper, folded it, and stuffed it in his pocket. He needed a moment alone to collect his thoughts and corral his emotions before bringing up the subject again.
The newspaper echoed all of his father’s sentiments in high-flying rhetoric about insults to the Crown and malicious undermining of the British economy. The Chinese were painted as a race of traitorous, vicious cowards, somehow both uncivilized thugs and effete, manipulative aristocrats who detested foreigners and yet craved their money to support their hedonistic, depraved lifestyle. They had desecrated British symbols, held British subjects hostage, and stolen the property of honest British merchants. They were liars and xenophobes, and they had outlawed the good works of pious Christian missionaries, preferring to wallow in sin and worship their ancestors instead of the Lord. Higgins shook his head sadly. Of course his father would be outraged at the idea of bringing one of these savages into the family. No doubt Parliament, fed on a diet of such lies, would authorize a show of force to protect the British economy and uphold the honor of queen and country. He would have felt even more dejected had he known that these lies were sown by his own employer, Mr. Jardine.
By the time he returned to the empty cottage, Higgins had realized he would never be able to make his parents understand his decision to marry Su-Mei. There was nothing left to do but find a way back to China so he could be with her. He left a quick note for his parents, packed his kit, and set off, hoping to hitch a ride with a farmer to the newly built railway station in York. If he hurried, he could just make it to London before the Jardine and Matheson offices closed for the day.
“All ships are on hold pending Mr. Jardine’s instructions, First Officer Higgins,” the clerk informed him. “Particularly now that war may break out.”
“What about other ships sailing for China?” Higgins asked.
“Plenty of navy ships preparing for action, and I expect Jack would welcome someone with your China experience and navigational skills. Your packet won’t be nearly as fat, but if it’s action you’re after, Jack’s your man. Wait a moment!”
The clerk searched his desk briefly before coming up with a sheet of manila paper. “Here it is. The Wellesley—that’s Admiral Maitland’s ship—is in need of skilled officers, and you’re more than qualified as an India and China hand, but she’s in India just now for repairs. If you’re interested, report to Naval Headquarters and enlist.”
“But I’m still on the rolls with Jardine and Matheson; I can’t just bugger off to join the navy, can I?” said Higgins.
“Sir, Mr. Jardine is promoting this war, and Parliament will soon vote to authorize it—it’s the only way to save his business. And considering the merchant ships are lying to for the foreseeable future, I expect he wouldn’t object. Why are you so on fire to get back to China anyway, sir?”
Higgins considered explaining but decided against it. “Supposing I do enlist, how shall I get to India to meet the Wellesley?”
“No trouble there, sir! Jack is sending dozens of supply ships to the Orient in anticipation of war.”
Higgins had heard of the Wellesley. Seventy-four guns, and she’d seen action in Karachi in an eerily similar skirmish in which the East India Company had used her to attack a mud fort to induce the locals to enter into a contract they didn’t want. The Wellesley was a fine example of the muscle the Royal Navy could flex when colonists and heathens needed some convincing.
Upon enlisting Higgins found himself almost immediately an officer of Her Majesty’s Royal Navy, first lieutenant on loan from Jardine and Matheson. His duties were to be assigned by Admiral Maitland as soon as he boarded the Wellesley in India. Four months to the day after he stepped off the Scaleby Castle in London, he was reporting to the naval office in Bombay.
“Damned nuisance that you weren’t told, Lieutenant!” blustered the mustachioed clerk. “Admiral Maitland is deceased. Tropical fever or some damned thing—lost a number of good officers in a matter of days.”
Higgins removed his cap as a show of respect. “Where is the Wellesley now?”
“Sailed for Trincomalee for refitting. She’ll be picking up new officers there as well. You’ll be reporting to Rear Admiral Sir George Elliot, if you can get there in time.”
When Higgins arrived in Trincomalee and finally boarded the Wellesley, he was stunned at the size of her. For the past four years, he had sailed on agile, fast opium schooners. This was a warhorse.
“Lieutenant Higgins,” said the rear admiral. “Your record as first officer on Jardine’s fleet is exemplary, but do you think you’re cut out for the Royal Navy?”
“Yes, sir, Admiral, sir. I’m eager to serve Her Majesty. The merchant navy was a fine career, but it’s wartime now, sir, and I want to use my skill for queen and country.”
“Good lad, all fine, but I dare say you’ll find we do things a bit differently in the Royal Navy.”
“Yes, sir. I shall not disappoint you, sir.”
For two months Higgins worked hard all day and studied manuals at night. He knew why he was there, and it wasn’t for queen and country. Deep down, he felt conflicted. If England attacked China, he might very well have to execute orders that would kill Su-Mei’s people. I can’t think about that now, he told himself. I’ll know what to do when the time comes.
One thing he knew for sure was that he would resign his commission with Jardine and Matheson as soon as his military service was over. It was Jardine, he learned, who had mounted the campaign to convince England to go to war, and not for honor or even economic stability, but for profit. Higgins swore to himself that no matter what happened, he would never work on an opium ship again.
The Wellesley set sail for Singapore, another British enclave in Asia and the designated rendezvous point for the British expeditionary force bound for China. Rear Admiral George Elliot happened to be first cousin to Chief Superintendent of China Trade Charles Elliot, and he was the supreme commander of the China expedition; he passed command of the Wellesley to Captain Sir Gordon Bremer. When the full battle group had arrived, Rear Admiral Elliot asked a few officers, including Higgins, to oversee an inventory of their supplies to ensure the group was sufficiently provisioned. The supply ships were loaded with two months’ worth of drinking water, medical supplies, salted meat, flour, sugar, rum, lime juice, tea, and tobacco. They also carried over six thousand tons of coal so the steamers wouldn’t run out of fuel. Munitions included hundreds of barrels of gunpowder, thousands of cannonballs, canisters, and shells, and tens of thousands of musket cartridges, with balls and flints.
The marines practiced their landings on the beaches of Singapore, and Rear Admiral Elliot put his men, including Higgins, through their paces. Highly trained military personnel and the most modern and deadly military hardware in the world were at the ready to take on anything China could muster. When a supply ship arrived in Singapore with the offici
al news from Parliament, Elliot called a meeting of all the senior officers of his battle group, including the captains of every warship and supply ship and senior ranking officers of the ground force.
“Gentlemen,” he began, “the use of force has been authorized by Parliament, which means we set sail for China as soon as weather permits. We will show the Chinese empire the meaning of British resolve and that we are not to be trifled with. We will teach them a lesson they shall not forget, and they will come to learn that no one threatens the safety of British subjects and confiscates British property without facing the consequences of their actions. We all recognize that our trade with China represents a meaningful part of our economic well-being, and we will not allow the Chinese empire to jeopardize that.”
“Hear, hear!” echoed through the hall. Higgins’s heart sank when he heard those words.
“Gentlemen, we have amassed a military force that I believe will easily defeat the Chinese,” continued the rear admiral, “thanks to intelligence provided by our merchants; but it will still require a vigorous effort to get the Chinese to submit to our terms for fair and equitable commerce in the future. We will resume trade on our terms, gentlemen, whether the Chinese like it or not. May God be with all of you, and may God save our queen.” Soldiers and sailors pounded their fists on the tables in agreement and began singing “God Save the Queen.”
Jardine had advised Lord Palmerston that the expeditionary force needed to threaten the safety of the emperor, so Canton should not be the first target. He suggested a blockade along the coast from Hainan in the southernmost part of China to the Great Wall in the north. He also suggested capturing and occupying Chusan and a few other islands, just to show off British military prowess. A total display of force, he believed, would intimidate the emperor into capitulating, which would serve his interests. Future diplomatic relations were not his concern.