“I can arrange a tonga, old boy. What’s the time? Too late today, be dark within a couple of hours, you don’t want to go through town after nightfall. Tomorrow morning, say eleven o’clock at the steps here. Two pony carriages, one for you, one for your guard. Half an hour to the Club, a couple of hours doing the pretty there and then back before high tide – not that you need to worry about tides in Bustard, but it gives you an excuse to come away.”
Two-wheeled carriages of Indian origin, the tongas were more or less decrepit – there was no money in the town, too few paying passengers to spend out on new paint or springs. The light horses or ponies that pulled the tongas were equally neglected…
They bounced and bumped across the island to the Club, originally built imposingly in Victorian brick on the outskirts, a salubrious location that would, one day, provide recreation for the whole, flourishing community and their wives and children. That day had never come and the building was now far too large for the few who used it, for ‘standards’ were strictly maintained and only the whiter than white were permitted entry.
There was a bar, and a recreation room possessed of a full-size billiards table and little else, and a lounge where ladies were permitted. Rather to Magnus’ surprise there was a lady there.
“Good morning, Miss Blantyre. I did not know you were in Amoy.”
“I am not ‘in’ Amoy, Lord Magnus. I am but passing through, delayed here on a tour of inspection of the missions recently established by my father and uncle. The boat taking us along the coast has experienced some sort of mechanical failure, rather annoyingly, and can go no further until spare parts are obtained. The engineer seems somewhat uncertain of the exact nature of the problem.”
Magnus was not surprised – the sort of person who became an engineer on the China coast was often uncertain of many things, he suspected.
“Might I offer the services of my Lieutenant Burton, ma’am? He is a very competent steam engineer.”
“That may well make a pleasant change, sir. I have no desire to remain in this so-called ‘Club’ for longer than must be. Its chief guests seem to be cockroaches of the most immense dimensions!”
“The Asiatic roach, ma’am. Said to reach lengths in excess of the width of the palm of one’s hand. In themselves, harmless, one is told, but not the most pleasant of companions. I regret that I cannot offer accommodation aboard Bustard – but she is too small a sloop for such to be practical other than in an extreme emergency. On a cruiser or battleship, a very different matter, but not on a Nymphe class sloop. If you would send a note to your manager, to expect a naval party, then I shall make your repairs as a matter of urgency, ma’am – though, of course, it may still be the case that we must send to Hong Kong or Shanghai for parts. I did not observe a large steamer in harbour, ma’am?”
“The mission tender is little more than a fifty-ton launch, sir! It has two cabins and very little else to recommend it.”
Magnus kept a straight face – the missionary life probably involved worse hazards, but he was not about to mention them, or seem unsympathetic.
“Your lady companion is with you, I presume, ma’am?”
“She has a headache at the moment and is laid down in her room.”
“She has my sympathy. It will be best if I return to Bustard, ma’am, and personally ensure immediate attention to your needs. It would be possible to take a launch in tow if necessary, as far as the yards in Hong Kong. I understand that Shanghai is less well equipped for ship repairs. If I am present, I will be able to make the decisions.”
“Would it be possible to transport me to the missions I wish to inspect, Lord Magnus?”
“Not in Bustard, ma’am. We draw too much water for the local estuaries and inland rivers. There are some river gunboats on the Yangtze, ma’am, but Bustard is a sea-going ship. Our boats are quite ineligible, ma’am, being open pulling boats with no cabins, no privacy.”
It was very inconvenient, but she could see no alternatives to repair or a tow. Magnus left the Club, was carried back to the wharf, passing through wide but neglected streets. Old houses had been cleared to build a road inland, that happened to pass the front gate of the Club; newer and expensive properties lined the road, but they were all showing slight disrepair – the money was no longer there to keep them in perfect condition.
“Amoy is set up for trouble’, Magnus mused – it was a riot waiting to happen, at the very least. It would be a fertile recruiting ground for any troublemaker, too many of its younger men without an income, drifting hopelessly in the streets.
He stepped down from the tonga, waved across to the ship for a boat, and entered Mr Patterson’s office for a final few words.
“The Blantyre launch is broken down. We shall give assistance.”
Patterson made a note of the date and time on which he had been informed of the problem.
“No yard here, Lord Magnus.”
“If the need arises we shall take her under tow. Have you telegraph links to Shanghai and Hong Kong?”
“To both, provided the wires have not been cut. Useful stuff, copper wire.”
“If possible, sir, please inform Blantyre in Shanghai of the problem. I may need to send messages to Hong Kong. Do you know which is Blantyre’s boat and where?”
“Tied up, at their wharf. They still trade here, though not in much. An amount of porcelain, I believe, is their biggest item. Two hundred yards seaward, my lord. They have a golden flag with some sort of castle on it.”
Less than an hour later Bustard tied up at the Blantyre wharf. Magnus and Lieutenant Burton discovered the manager there and were greeted as saviours. It seemed that inability to make the repairs for the daughter of the house was jeopardising the young gentleman’s whole career.
“It appears that bearings have overheated and melted, my lord.”
“Damned carelessness if that be so, sir,” Lieutenant Burton responded. “It should be possible to grease and oil the bearings on so small a craft, provided the engineer is awake.”
“I much suspect that he was drunk, sir, the watch being kept by a single Chinese stoker. He is trying now to discover just what the extent of the problem is, and what he must do by way of repairs.”
Magnus grimaced – it was as he had expected.
“With your permission, sir, my engineering officer will assist.”
“Please do, sir. Take over, in fact, rather than offer assistance. I would wish to dismiss the villain, but have no replacement for him. The other crew members are unskilled Chinese deckhands.”
“No doubt something can be done, sir.”
Lieutenant Burton reported to Magnus on Bustard, two hours later.
“White metal in two bearings melted, sir, and the bearings have seized. They must be replaced, cannot be repaired. There appears to be no oil in the engine room – the three cans are empty. Presumably they were not checked before sailing. All other bearings show evidence of running hot, oil levels permitted to fall too low. The engine is old, and the firebox is rusted, and may be unsafe. I would expect to discover the boiler tubes to be in poor condition because there is salt in the water – cooling water has leaked, sir. The effect is that repairs are hardly possible, and would almost certainly be inadequate – the engine is finished, in my opinion.”
“Action, Mr Burton?”
“Scrap the launch here, sir, would be the ideal. The cost of somehow purchasing, transporting and then installing a new engine would be greater than that of purchasing a new vessel. If not here, sir, then the launch could be towed to Hong Kong. It would be a most uncomfortable passage, sir, bouncing at the end of a tow rope.”
“Good point. Miss Blantyre would not be amused, as the good Queen once said. Can you make a temporary repair to the engine, sufficient to get it to turn for a few more miles?”
“I could, sir. It would take a month, by the time parts had been ordered and delivered, would cost several hundreds of pounds, and would be unreliable.”
“So be
it. I shall speak to the Blantyre manager here.”
Burton left and Magnus called Carter to him.
“Can you make up two bunks in my cabin, Carter? Suitable for a lady and her companion? I will share the facilities of the wardroom for the passage.”
Carter smiled his best, said that it could be done, had been in the past when Bustard had had to convey fleeing missionaries to Hong Kong.
“I shall make the arrangements, Carter. First I need to revisit Miss Blantyre at the Club.”
Miss Blantyre had no wish to discover herself beholden to Lord Magnus; she had less desire to be stranded indefinitely in Amoy.
“You would have exclusive use of my dining and sleeping cabins, ma’am, and the facilities attached. I must, of necessity, retain my working cabin, but the internal doors have locks, the keys on your side. I would hope to make the passage in two nights, ma’am. It really must be to Hong Kong, but there will be more convenient transport for you there, as goes without saying. The launch, ma’am, is beyond repair. It would cost more to do a temporary job on the engine than to buy a new ship.”
“And the engineer, Lord Magnus?”
“He is to be dismissed, ma’am. He is an unreliable drunk.”
“What will he do, unemployed in Amoy?”
“A penniless gwailo, ma’am? He will throw himself on the consul’s tender mercies, as DBS – a distressed British seaman – and will be found passage away to a British port – Hong Kong, probably, Singapore or Brisbane perhaps, even as far as India. He can expect to be no more than a stoker or junior oiler in the engine room. If, as I much suspect, he is unable to survive in a sober state, then he will likely die on passage, for he will be denied all alcohol.”
She grimaced – she did not like to hear death so casually discussed.
“You have very little mercy in you, Lord Magnus.”
“Not for that sort, ma’am. None, in fact. The engine failed when he tried to raise steam after a day in port. You are lucky. What if it had stopped turning the screw at sea, or in the approaches to a small station in rock-filled waters, ma’am? The launch would have sunk, of a certainty, and you with it, ma’am. The engineer might well have killed you, ma’am. I have no sympathy for a drunk who places lives in jeopardy. I would add that your manager is equally contemptuous of him; my first lieutenant had to take action to prevent him from giving the engineer the beating he deserves. There some other crew members, ma’am – each of them a life that he could have lost.”
Miss Blantyre had not considered that aspect of the business – she had noticed that there were underlings on the launch, but they had not really impinged on her attention. It occurred to her that as an exemplar of Christian charity, she might have done better. Naturally, such self-blame immediately made her angry.
“Quite, Lord Magnus. When may I board Bustard, sir?”
“At your early convenience, ma’am. I shall return to the harbour and then send tongas and an escort for you. You will have been told that the streets of Amoy are dangerous, I believe.”
“Told, yes, but I have seen no evidence of that fact.”
“So I should hope, ma’am. I would be deeply displeased had you been subjected to criminal annoyance for lack of a proper escort.”
It occurred to her that she had just said something very silly. That added to her anger.
“I shall pack and make myself ready to join the ship, sir.”
She left for her room.
Magnus laughed and shook his head. She was a strikingly attractive woman, no doubt, but he did not need proximity to that degree of habitual irritability – heiress to however much, she might be. He returned to the ship and sent Sub-lieutenant Hawkes to command her escort. It would do the boy good to drool at the sight of her, he did not doubt. Midshipman Ayres was far too inexperienced yet to take such a duty, though he did seem to be coming on well.
“Mr Whyte, what are we doing with Ayres at the moment?”
“Assisting the officer of the watch, sir. He is learning, sir.”
“Good. Is he ready for more than simply to understudy the man on duty?”
“Possibly, sir. But he will not be ready for a watchkeepers certificate for some months yet, sir.”
No officer could command a watch except he was formally assessed by his seniors and given a written statement of competence.
“Quite right. Six months before I could trust any officer with conduct of the ship. What about the howitzer? Could he be given the gun, to work up their crews, command them in action?”
“Certainly, sir. Mr McGurk will be pleased to train up a youngster, especially now that he has his gunner’s mate. Mr Sheldrick seems very competent – he is Whale Island, of course.”
“Good. Mr Ayres to the thirty-hundredweight howitzer. I must inspect his journal, as well – a damned nuisance, I remember from my own days as a mid. Warn him, quietly, that I shall call for him in a few days.”
The officers shifted cabins to make space for Magnus in place of Mr Whyte, who had the largest of the wardroom places and now moved into Mr Roberts’ cabin; they each shifted one step, leaving the mid with no place at all other than a mattress on the floor in the officer’s mess galley. They smiled their kindest as Miss Blantyre joined them for dinner, assuring her that she was no inconvenience at all and apologising for the sparseness of their fare. Bustard was not a rich ship and their mess fees were kept low, resulting in Spartan meals and thin wines, which she, properly, did not notice or comment on. Cruisers especially frequently selected their officers to an extent, and dined as well as the Brigade of Guards, and battleships, often blessed with the presence of an open-handed admiral, were able to maintain a lavish table. Lesser ships fed adequately, and no more, even on the China Station.
“Your companion is not eating tonight, ma’am?”
“No, Lord Magnus, she regularly misses meals at sea.”
They all tried to seem sympathetic, before asking her just how much she enjoyed China.
“To be frank, gentlemen, not at all. China seems designed for the benefit of the male sex exclusively. The female is an afterthought, it appears.”
They shook their heads gravely and feared that she was right – China was similar to India in the previous century, the home of the trader and the soldier but with no expectation that the white lady would ever grace the country with her presence.
“It is still a dangerous location in many ways, ma’am. The possibility of an uprising is ever present, perhaps more now than in recent years, or so I am told in Hong Kong. It seems that the Empress is increasingly nervous of the end of her power, and perhaps the creation of a republic in place of the Empire. She will, it is said, take any measure, however extreme, that might preserve her power.”
“Understandable perhaps, Lord Magnus.”
“Possibly so, ma’am, but she abuses her power so wantonly that one can have little sympathy for her. The funds she has raised overtly for her creation of a new navy, have been spent primarily on rebuilding the Summer Palace, as an example. When her ministers have endeavoured to build a modern and strong army, she has had them killed, for fear that the new army might be used against her. When provincial governors have appealed for aid against the spread of foreign influence, her reaction has been to have them assassinated, for being a possible source of power outside of Peking. She has encouraged warlords to destroy the countryside by fighting each other, so that none can gain strength in the Empire. She is the greatest enemy the Chinese people face at the moment.”
“She is, however, the rightful ruler of China. Surely it is not for us to query an Empress.”
Magnus laughed, said that it seemed to him that the bulk of the world’s emperors were either insane or incompetent.
“Look at Russia, as an example, ma’am!”
“Russia is ruled by the anointed of God, my lord. We cannot afford, surely, to query his rightful power.”
“He is a remarkably foolish man, ma’am, whose stupidity has crippled his country. Po
wer resides in shipyards and gun foundries, and those are few indeed in Russia, because he will not encourage the ignoble to become wealthy by creating industry. How well off would Britain be without our great ironworks and coalmines and mills?”
She knew nothing of such things, but was utterly certain that God had created the order of the aristocracy and it ill-became mortal man to query the Divine disposition.
“Should it come to war, ma’am, then our guns will do more than query such a disposition, of that I am quite certain.”
She shook her head condescendingly – it was impossible that Queen Victoria’s Empire might come to war with Imperial Russia, or Imperial Germany, or the Austro-Hungarian Empire – the four great political entities were ordained by Heaven to rule in perpetuity.
“What of the Empire of the Rising Sun, ma’am? Or, appalling though it is to mention the vulgar beasts, the United States of America?”
“Aberrations, Lord Magnus, certain to fall before too many years have passed.”
Miss Blantyre withdrew from the table soon after that final, crushing statement.
Chapter Eigh
t
The China Station
“I could not see it as appropriate, sir, to leave Miss Blantyre effectively stranded in Amoy. It is a broken-down backwater of a town now, sir. It might have taken several days, weeks perhaps, to arrange a ship from Shanghai to pick her up, and, from all you have told me, the Blantyre Hong has a sufficiency of power these days to cause the whole Navy embarrassment. Letters of complaint to London, sir, might lead to any sort of response from the government.”
Admiral Seymour was forced to agree – they could not afford to offend the powerful when there had so recently been a change of Prime Minister and political party.
“Bit of an unknown, Salisbury, you know, Lord Magnus. One presumes he will support the Navy – and we need more ships, more money – but one cannot be certain of him yet. Blantyre expects to pick up his peerage from him, so he must have influence. You were right not to risk offending the Blantyre interest. We would neither of us be popular with Their Lordships of the Admiralty if we trod on the wrong toes this year. Where is the young lady at the moment?”
The China Station (The Earl’s Other Son Series, Book 1) Page 16