Magnus smiled politely while making his greeting.
“My name is Hawkins, Lord Magnus, in charge of the Office in Hong Kong. Let us first establish what we have discovered, and then discuss what we need to find out, with your permission, Admiral Seymour.”
Captain Hawkins’ attitude made it clear that he did not expect the admiral to refuse his permission, and did not give a damn whether he gave it.
“Now then, we have four gentlemen from Germany, two civilians from Berlin and two military gentlemen from Potsdam. One of the soldiers was a gunner by trade, the other, interestingly, commissioned in a cavalry regiment. No horse soldiers in China – he must really have been Intelligence. The pair of civilians seem to have been engineers and surveyors. Possibly to consider a railway line? We cannot be sure.”
Admiral Seymour interrupted briefly.
“All four definitely German, Hawkins? No involvement of the Austro-Hungarians?”
“None, sir. Their alliance seems to be frail, in China at least. The four had some involvement with the war in Indo-China, it would seem, assisting in the attempt – almost successful – to defeat the French. When the Qing army pulled back, they retired with it, in company with the battery of guns they had brought to the scene. It appears that the French managed to destroy the limbers with counter-battery fire in one of their final battles. The lost ammunition was replaced by a load brought through Canton by junk – and that will demand an amount of explanation in itself. There will be a thorough investigation of the circumstances that permitted tons of artillery rounds to pass through the port. Bribes, obviously, but from who, to whom, is yet to be known.”
“Did the Germans record all of this in their papers, Captain Hawkins?” Magnus was openly amazed, could not imagine why they should have done anything so foolish.
“They required records for the office in Berlin, Lord Magnus. I suspect there has been some successful defrauding of the department there in recent years and they are watching the pennies. It is the great failing of all intelligence departments – so many agents fill their own pockets from the secret monies they must be provided with. How often is a bribe of a thousand recorded which in reality is five hundred to the agent and as much to the bribe-taker!”
“I suppose one must not be surprised, Captain Hawkins. Intelligence is not the province of the gentleman, after all.”
Belatedly, it occurred to Magnus that that might not have been the most tactful of comments.
“Not to worry, Lord Magnus. The German gentlemen kept their accounts and lost them to your capable hands. They received orders – from whom is unclear – to turn their attentions to the mainland north and east of Hong Kong, to take a port on a river that might eventually be alienated from China and become a German equivalent of the base here. This was to be done initially by conquering a warlord and bringing his lands more and more into the overt German interest. They therefore brought their little army against the warlord of Hanshan, intending to install their own puppet and fortify his harbour, in the first instance with the battery they brought with them, soon with bigger guns to be delivered from Germany. I suspect there would have been six or eight of coastal guns in place by the end of ’97, had they been successful.”
Admiral Seymour was grateful that the German threat had been thwarted – had a rival to Hong Kong been created under his nose then his career prospects would have been much impaired.
“Well done, Lord Magnus. I would wish you to keep a close eye on events around Hanshan, sir. The Prussians may well return to the scent, you know. Unlikely to give up without a second try. Missionaries next, Captain Hawkins?”
Magnus was surprised that missionaries might be used by a government; both senior men assured him that their use was a commonplace for the German, French and Belgians, and the Italians, although they counted for very little.
“In that case, it would be logical, sir. To establish a mission station in the town would be a useful step. Difficult to oppose as well.”
Captain Hawkins could see very few difficulties.
“Let them set up and establish their little church and larger medical centre and orphanage, give them three months, and then the cry can go up that the gwailos are buying Chinese children. They commonly offer a small reward to any person who brings a waif to them – that can be presented as purchasing slaves. Many of the children come half-starved, diseased, broken and abused from the streets – their death-rate is inevitably high. It leads often to the accusation of human sacrifice – the missionaries buying them to ritually kill them on their altars, having first abused their bodies. Very many of the people will believe the accusations, and, of course, we must admit that missionaries are not always of the finest in their dealings with little girls and boys – there is some slight justification for the Chinese opinion of them. Three months, as I say, and they can be burned out and floating in the river.”
Admiral Seymour did not approve of such measures; he also preferred to know nothing.
“Well, Captain Hawkins, we must accept that one way or the other, German missionaries will not be tolerated in Hanshan. I leave that in your hands, sir. Lord Magnus, you will take care not to be in the harbour when the riots erupt. You would be expected to come to the rescue, was you to be there; that must not be.”
“I am sure that I can be well distant, sir. Young Mr Ping, the interpreter, and probably far more, will no doubt keep me informed. He is a younger son, I believe, educated in London and speaking good English. I have a suspicion that he probably has more scholarly English than me – I noticed more than once that he took pains to be music-hall Chinee in his speech, presumably to make me comfortable. He was aware of the distinction between my courtesy title and a peerage, and that I am the heir while my brother remains unwed.”
Captain Hawkins made a quick note about Mr Ping.
“Is he pro-British, Lord Magnus?”
“Probably not, Captain Hawkins. If you were a Chinaman who had spent five years in London, would you be pro-British?”
“Well said, I am afraid, Lord Magnus. Let us note him as pro-Chinese.”
Admiral Seymour could not understand their comments – the man had been exposed to the best of British civilisation – what more could be asked for?
“He will have been offered contempt, sir, for not being white. He cannot have an affection for those who will have insulted him.”
“Hardly an insult, Lord Magnus, just pointing out the obvious.”
“The Americans refer to ‘The Yellow Peril’, I believe, sir, stating all Chinese to be degenerate. He will have heard that expression used in London – it has certainly spread there, sir”, Captain Hawkins offered.
“Ah, well, yes, to be sure… The thing is you know, Hawkins, there are just so damned many of them!”
“Yes, sir. That might be seen as a good reason to be polite to them. Not to worry, sir. What is, must be – we can do nothing about the way in which the poor fellow was treated in past years.”
Captain Hawkins turned back to Magnus.
“When do you return to Hanshan, Lord Magnus?”
“Not for two weeks at least, sir. Bustard is in the yard to change her old guns for modern quick-firers.”
“Excellent. They will be recognised as modern, powerful weapons.” He turned to Admiral Seymour, attempting to be properly deferential as he gave what were in effect orders. “It might not be a bad thing, sir, to take Centurion off on a visit as well. Ceremonial salutes and all that – very impressive to the local people.”
Admiral Seymour did not quite comprehend all that was implied, or perhaps hoped that he did not understand.
“Salutes? Exchanging guns, as if to show our respect, each for the other? To a Chink warlord? Bad enough to treat their navy as if it was real, but giving gun salutes to some local chief? You’ll have us bowing to fuzzy-wuzzies next!”
“They know that the Germans will offer them the gun and the whip, the Russians even more so, sir. If we show willing to offer more
courtesy and less brutality, then they may well prefer to work with us. Very useful, sir, to keep a monopoly of trade throughout the whole of Southern China – be popular back in London if everything that goes through Canton and a hundred miles on either side uses our merchants and shipping. Jardine Matheson will appreciate it especially, and you know what it’s like in the Foreign Office – if Jardines cough, the China Desk has a choking fit.”
Admiral Seymour shook his head – it was wrong, would encourage the Chinks to step out of their place, but if it would keep Jardines happy, then perhaps it should be done.
“Poke our nose, in. Anchor in deep water, send in a boat to ensure they will reply properly and then give them what, eight guns?”
“Thirteen, sir. Do the job thoroughly.”
“Thirteen guns to some bloody Chink - never heard the like in me life! I’ll send Centurion out, but stay behind in Honkers meself. Can’t give them too much of a show.”
Captain Hawkins settled for that compromise. Most of the ordinary people in Hanshan would be satisfied that they had been offered a mark of respect, which was as it should be and would make a change from the arrogance of other nations. Captain Hawkins glanced across at his new minion.
“I shall look to see you in my office before you sail, Lord Magnus.”
“My pleasure, sir.”
Magnus turned back to Admiral Seymour.
“Point just occurred to me, sir. Do I sleep aboard Bustard while she’s in the hands of the yard?”
“No. You can take a room in the quarters here, if you wish, or enjoy greater comfort and better food in one of the hotels. The yard says a fortnight to do the job? Take a hotel room for three weeks, Lord Magnus. You won’t want to eat the food they knock out in the Mess here.”
The Star Hotel, Carter recommended, probably because they kept comfortable servants’ quarters where he would spend most of the three weeks in idleness, the Chinese boys doing almost all of his work. Magnus took a suite – because that was what the management considered correct for a ship’s captain, irrespective of his actual rank and pay scale – and settled in for twenty days of overindulgence.
The food was excellent in Cantonese, Army Indian, English and French styles – among those that Magnus recognised. He avoided the curries, recognising the trademark of the army cook – a great mass of the hottest spices immediately to hand dumped on at random to hide the otherwise total absence of taste. A number of Indian Army officers, always in plentiful supply in Hong Kong, assured him he didn’t know what he was missing.
“I can guess, sir,” he replied in the most courteous tone, leaving the army puzzled for his meaning.
The wine list was more than adequate for his palate, and the beer, the ubiquitous India Pale Ale, found everywhere in the Empire and making fortunes for London breweries, was familiar, and not bad. There was a bar full of the best single-malt whiskies, and second-rate cognacs, which satisfied all of the military.
The hotel was, in fact, ideal for the single officer, supplying as well company for the night in any age, size and permutation of gender that the individual might reasonably, and occasionally quite unreasonably, require.
The cost was perhaps one tenth of a comparable institution in London.
Magnus decided that he could understand why many of his peers regarded Hong Kong as very nearly paradise on Earth.
A week and he was bored.
He called at the yard and inspected progress on Bustard. Mr Whyte was surprised to see him but showed him all that had been done and was to be completed.
“The yard has installed an electrical generator in the engine room, sir, in order to place new magazines low in the hold space with hoists to the deck.”
Magnus tried to visualise the hold space – where rations and water were stored in crates and tanks next to all of the spares and consumable supplies the ship required.
“There is unused space both fore and aft of the water, is there not?”
“No longer, sir. The howitzer rounds will be stored forward, sir, with their own small hoist direct to the guns. The QF munitions will be stowed in a new magazine aft, sir – in effect an extension of the original five-inch magazine – with a hoist to the deck. It will be necessary to run the shells to the guns, sir, but no more so than was the case for the five-inch.”
“If we come under small-arms or machine gun fire then we will lose those men, I fear, Mr Whyte. I could wish we had some sort of cover for them, or that they could run the shells below decks. Not possible, I know… How big are the ready-use lockers?”
“Eight rounds, sir.”
“Is there space to extend them?”
“Midships, yes, sir. The forward and after pairs, sir, probably not.”
“I will speak to the yard master – something might be possible.”
“Is it likely that we will ever be in such a position as to need them, sir?”
“No. But in the unlikely event that we do, we will be most annoyed if our guns are silenced for lack of rounds to fire.”
Magnus found the yard master, explained his concerns and found him very willing to consider possible solutions.
“Coming up to the end of the financial year, Lord Magnus. Any money not spent will be clawed back by the Treasury, and next year’s allocations will be reduced by the same amount on the grounds that we don’t need it. Very necessary to spend the contingency reserve at this time of year, sir. Spending it on a ship means that I don’t have to hide the funds elsewhere, and might be useful, too.”
The generator installed was large enough to give electric lighting to some of the cabins and to provide a signalling lamp and a small searchlight, much to Magnus’ pleasure. He had not enjoyed the lack of civilised comfort of electricity.
Magnus enquired and discovered that the yard master was a civil servant, not a military officer. He was told that all of the civil service operated under the same constraints – they could not keep reserves from one year to the next and needed, ideally, to overspend each year, so as to prove that they needed more next.
“Prices go up every year, you see, Lord Magnus, and the Treasury don’t notice the fact – they expect everything to cost the same for all eternity. Got to fiddle somehow if the job is to be done at all.”
Admiral Seymour was amused when Magnus mentioned the matter before he took Bustard out on her first patrol with the new guns.
“If you ever sit at a desk like this, Lord Magnus – not that you are in any way likely to, of course, with your record – then you will discover that no matter what the problem is, what the war you may be fighting, the real enemy sits in Whitehall wearing collar and tie and top hat. If you are not destroyed by the clerks in the Admiralty, then the Treasury will get you. They are themselves no more than half-men – sitting in offices and never mixing with the people who do things – and they are bitterly envious of every soldier and sailor who is not as they and so they do their best to cripple the real men who have made the Empire and preserve it for them to profit from. The sort they admire is a man like your brother, Lord Magnus – never had a thought in his life or done anything either. They do their damnedest to make sure those are the sorts who get promotions, as well. You only reach the top in their England if you are fairly stupid, desperately dull and remarkably boring.”
Magnus admitted that seemed to describe the bulk of senior officers he had ever met.
“That’s why they hated Disraeli, you know, and why they loved Gladstone – couldn’t find a duller man. Intelligent, which was a drawback, but rarely used his brain and never took a risk – just what they wanted. Salisbury is the same, if not more so. Never a hope of the most senior offices if you are intelligent and attempt to do things.”
Magnus agreed and took his leave and made his way to Captain Hawkins’ office.
“The Old Man just been passed over for promotion, sir?”
“Just so, Lord Magnus. Add to that it’s pretty clear that Jacky Fisher’s in the ascendant and Charlie B’s going nowher
e – shouting his mouth off in Parliament while Jacky’s turning the Mediterranean Fleet inside out and upside down. Ten years, I would guess before Jacky makes First Lord.”
“And Charlie B, sir?”
“Will probably make the lunatic asylum instead. Getting to show just the least little bit erratic, is Charlie B – runs in his family, you know – as they get older, so the brain goes soft. Pity, in its way, because Britain would do far better allied to Germany than to France, or, even worse, Russia. Still, nothing to be done about that!”
Magnus nodded and said nothing – newly made commanders did not have opinions on matters of high policy, not if they were wise.
“Written to Cecil yet, have you?”
Magnus wondered how Hawkins knew about that, but said simply that he had sent a first missive only a week previously.
“Very wise. Good man to keep on the right side of. Honest, as well. He don’t forget men who do him a favour. He’ll be in Shanghai for another few days, then it’s back to London for him. Going by way of Japan and San Francisco, then the railway to New York and a fast Cunarder. He’ll see more and spend a bit less time on the journey. Makes you think, don’t it?”
It didn’t, in fact, but Magnus agreed that it certainly should.
“Want you to go back to Hanshan first thing, Lord Magnus. Spend three or four days there and then patrol the coast as far as Amoy, get the feel of it, then return to Hanshan and Ping Wu. He’s a useful man, potentially. Keep him sweet. Drop the word that we will be able, probably, to pick up some rounds for those seventy-fives you gave him. Might be able to lay hands on a pair of Maxims, rifle-calibre, on field carriages – we have them here, in fact, but he can think that we have to work the oracle to get hold of them, and will only go to the effort if it’s worthwhile. We can’t rely on him to stay bought, of course, but we might be able to get him to demand a far higher price of the Germans for his support, more than they will be able to cough up without reducing their activities elsewhere.”
Magnus appreciated then the subtleties of the Game, and wondered if perhaps the Germans had introduced the battery of field guns in order to force the British to pay a higher price in the first instance.
The China Station (The Earl’s Other Son Series, Book 1) Page 13