There was a square of sand to the side, ten feet of it, looking out of place in the great hall. I could not imagine that the Lord’s children played there. A man was brought out from somewhere to the rear and was hauled to the middle of the sand. He was wearing silk robes, dirtied by captivity, and gave the impression of an aristocrat of sorts.
Five coolies trotted in, carrying a thick, twelve feet long pole which they inserted into a hole in the sand, a socket one might say. They took wooden wedges and forced them down at the sides, holding the timber rigid. There was a length of rope dangling from the top. Guards stripped the prisoner and tied his hands high over his head, lifting him so that his feet dangled inches above the sand.
“This was their so-called King, Mr Jackson.”
I swallowed and watched, trying to maintain a casual and uncaring air as a pair of men larger than the guards at the gate came in carrying bundles of thin bamboos, dry yellow canes of about four feet, split to give razor edges.
The first guard gave a sharp slap with a single cane to the pirate’s back, not too hard but drawn down, flaying his skin. The second man crossed the lacerations. Over the space of fifteen painstaking minutes they worked down from his shoulders to his ankles, the strokes perhaps a quarter of an inch apart. Then they turned him and repeated the process starting at his upper chest. The dying man began to scream as they reached his lower belly.
It took nearly half an hour to complete the job. The executioners were sweating by the end of it and well-spattered by the blood flicking off their canes. I decided I had no wish ever to offend the Lord. Captain Marker was well and truly revenged, I thought.
Fong spoke for the first time since the execution had commenced.
“The Lord believes that you will not be further discommoded while about his business.”
I bowed again before replying.
“Please express my thanks that he has permitted us to serve him, Mr Fong. I am honoured by his concern for my interests.”
A delay for translation and I was congratulated again on my courtesy, rare, it would seem, among gwailos. I could not imagine being rude to that particular gentleman.
We were escorted out, taken back to the wharf where we saw a pair of lighters alongside Jenny Dawes and cargo being run aboard.
Fong left us and I spoke to the men behind me.
“That one was responsible for Captain Marker’s death, lads. That was why they let us see him die.”
“Rewarding us, was they, sir?”
“You might say so, Maneater. From what I’m told, which ain’t much, the old fellow on the throne was leader of what they call a triad. A big gang, I suppose, but it might be more of another sort of government. I don’t know what, but I ain’t poking my nose into their business either. You’ve all seen that Mr Fong now. You see him again, tell me or Captain Partridge as quick as you can and in the meantime, do what he says. We ain’t arguing with those people. I think they’ll pay us good money while we’re obedient; I know exactly what they’ll do if we step out of line!”
They nodded and grunted their agreement. They had been deeply impressed by the performance.
“So they reckoned that poor bugger was some sort of king, did they say, Mr Giles?”
“King of the pirates that we had the run-in with.”
“So this triad had men enough to burn them out and take their boss-man prisoner and split their ships up the way they wanted, Mr Giles? Why do they need us, then?”
I shook my head. I did not know of a certainty.
“I think, at a guess, more or less, that the Honourable Company is bigger still and has the trade they want. They can’t talk direct to the Company – that has to be done by this Hoppo fellow that the Factor talked about. So they use country traders, like Mr Ainslie, as their go-betweens. They can make a big profit out of opium, but they’ve got to use us or people like us. They’ll want us to get stuff out of China for them and to bring in the cargoes they want.”
Maneater agreed with my estimation, and he was a thinking man, despite his little habits, and much respected by the crew.
“We’ll get aboard now, lads. Tell all the others what you saw. Give them the message – don’t play silly buggers with the Chinese here. Too big a risk.”
We were called into the wharf next morning and were provided with water and firewood and stores, all loaded quickly, efficiently and almost silently by Chinese longshoremen. It was unnerving to see the work done as well as we could have managed and more quickly and without a shout; it was not our habit.
Captain Partridge went ashore and returned within the hour, accompanied by Mr Fong.
“We sail on the tide. Mr Jackson, please to settle Mr Fong into the first mate’s cabin.”
I escorted Fong below and watched as the first mate ran with his belongings, dumping them into the space Jerry had used when the Markers had the ship.
Fong had the second largest cabin in the ship, a statement of his importance, reinforcing the understanding I had slowly gained of his place in the world.
“It is requested by my Lord, Mr Jackson, that you will explain all things to me as I need. When we reach the port of Bombay, you will arrange escort for me, as necessary.”
I was not best pleased to be given orders by a Chinaman; I had no intention of displaying the least resentment. If I was to remain in the Orient, which was my wish, then I was not to be so unwise as to argue with the wishes of the triad.
“Yes, sir! I shall be pleased to assist. I must point out that I am no sailor, sir. I work with the fighting part of the crew.”
Mr Fong knew that, he said. He had been told that despite my age, I had been involved in more than one fight. I must explain to him how the men aboard the gwailo ships fought their battles and particularly how it came about that we had defeated a number of the most ferocious junks.
“Discipline, Mr Fong. The men to stand in their ranks and to fire upon command, following the lead of their officers. Volley fire, sir, will defeat most enemies. We practice every day at sea. That is the other necessity, sir, repetition, so that the men know exactly what they must do and when.”
Fong said nothing, then or later, but did not seem entirely convinced that I had told him all.
There were some eyebrows raised when Fong sat to table with us on that first day, but he remained quiet and ate in a civilised fashion and no objection was raised.
We made the quickest possible passage to Bombay, making no diversion through the islands of the South Pacific as had been our original intention. The value of the cargo we carried forbade us to take any risks at all.
Offloading in Bombay was carried out safely, but not so silently, and the cargo was shifted to the Ainslie warehouses over the space of three days, the boxes of jade last of all and surrounded by all of the boarders, coincidentally, it appeared, as we were off to collect our pay for the voyage.
“The little Indian men walk like soldiers, Mr Jackson.”
“They were, Mr Fong. The Honourable Company employs many tens of thousands of Indian soldiers. They call them sepoys. Very fierce men. These sepoys had come to the end of their contract with the Company and were permitted to serve Mr Ainslie. They fight well.”
“Do they fight in India Mr Jackson? Against their own people?”
I laughed and told him that the Company relied upon them quite wholly. Without them, the Company could not have conquered the lands it had taken.
He was much struck by this.
Thinking on it, I am not surprised. The parallels between the state of India and the collapsing Qing Empire are obvious to us, looking on from England, but must have come as a shock to a Chinaman who, despite being intelligent and very able, had believed that China was the centre of the universe and the most powerful state in it. I see the same thing happening in England today – horrible, arrogant little youths spewed out of these new schools and all convinced that Britain is the greatest country the world has ever known and that they have a mission to civilise the rest
of humanity and turn the poor sambos into imitation Englishmen. The Chinese differed only in that they knew it was impossible for the barbarians to achieve their status.
They’ll go the same way as China, see if they don’t! I won’t be here to see it, but it will happen. Bound to. Nasty little buggers! Serve ‘em right.
Where was I?
Ah, yes, just reaching Ainslie’s compound with the men and the important part of the cargo. And Mr Fong.
Mr Ainslie greeted us in person, as did little Sunitra who came running to greet us and remained to stare big-eyed in the background as I made the introductions.
“Mr Ainslie, this is Mr Fong who has come from Canton to see how we do things, and to accompany the special cargo for his master.”
“The red cargo, Mr Fong?”
“That is the one, Mr Ainslie.”
“Come into my office, if you would be so good, Mr Fong.”
“Mr Jackson as well, if you please, sir. My Lord has decreed that the young gentleman shall take a part in our future trade, being able to show himself in Bombay without causing the upset that a Chinese man might.”
“That was not as we first agreed, Mr Fong.”
“It is as my Lord has decided, sir.”
Mr Ainslie was not best pleased by that arbitrary decision but had the wisdom to accept that he could do nothing about it if he wished to remain in the China trade.
He opened the door to both of us and shooed his daughter away when she went to enter as well.
“You have a friend there, Master Giles! She has asked repeatedly when you were due back.”
“A bright little girl, your daughter, sir. I must bring her a present of some sort when I next come back from Canton.”
I thought no more of her than that, then or for some few years.
Mr Fong produced a set of papers, bills of lading for the silks and porcelain, and agreed them with Mr Ainslie while I watched. They turned then to the boxes of jade.
“These are to go to Persia, Mr Ainslie. They will fetch a good price at court there. There is a Parsee merchant who will make the arrangements. He has ships running to the north and the Gulf, but none from Bombay to Canton. It will be well for Mr Jackson to remain with his people on guard here and to convoy the boxes to the ship when they are collected. That may be some weeks, though I hope less. Arrangements have been made by message overland, which is a slow and hazardous process. Letters are often lost on the Silk Road and I must establish what is currently known here in Bombay, and possibly wait for a fast ship to make contact with Persia.”
Ainslie objected that he had understood the jade was to be taken from him immediately after it had arrived. It was dangerously valuable.
“My Lord has been forced to vary his initial intentions, Mr Ainslie. I do not doubt that you will wish to accommodate him in this minor matter. Your reward will be adjusted to allow for the inconvenience this causes you.”
Mr Ainslie smiled his best and gave his thanks.
“Where are you to be accommodated, Mr Fong?”
I stepped back a few inches, out of Fong’s line of sight and mouthed ‘here’, carefully and slowly.
“Ah, yes… If you have no other, prior arrangements, Mr Fong, I would be honoured if you would take a guest room in my house.”
Mr Fong bowed and said how delighted he would be to do so.
“Mr Jackson is to be found where, Mr Ainslie?”
“Mr Jackson remains aboard ship, Mr Fong, that being his proper place. If you wish, of course, sir, then he may take another room in my bungalow. I have several spare, as you will appreciate.”
“It would suit the wishes of my Lord if you would do so, Mr Ainslie. Mr Jackson is to be my companion. He is to explain to me much that I do not understand of how you behave in Bombay.”
And there I was, stuck as companion and guide to a Chinese gentleman in a city that had very little use for any sort of Chinaman.
Perhaps the first thing I had to explain to Fong was that Bombay was not an orderly city. The Indians were a great heterogenous mass of religions and races and languages, none of them with any great love for or tolerance of aliens, who were very broadly defined. It seemed to me that the dwellers in Bombay were villagers in their mentality. In the English village, the man who lives three miles away is a foreigner, not to be trusted and to be taken advantage of if at all possible. In Bombay that habit of thought extended to the family that lived three doors distant.
Canton had been busy but essentially orderly – the people knowing that there were rules and laws and seemingly content to obey them. Their criminals, if the triad were such, were organised and circumscribed by their own set of rules. Mr Fong would probably have been appalled by the idea that he was a menace to organised society – I did not choose to ask him but had the impression that he was a very respectable man.
Bombay differed in every way possible. There were no laws, or none that were known to the people. To a great extent, that was why John Company flourished – it divided and ruled a great mass of people who had no concept of working together. The sepoys were proof positive of this – they were happy to oppress their own people and could see no reason why they should not.
The traders and businessmen of Bombay knew no law other than self-interest. They would not cheat a customer who might supply them with another profit next week but would rob blind any man who lacked the power to object and who might have sailed away within a short while.
Mr Fong could not quite comprehend so alien a society.
“But, Mr Jackson, what of the judges?”
“John Company has courts and legal luminaries who sit in them, Mr Fong. It is less than wise to cheat the Honourable Company. But they care little for the well-being of any other folk on Earth. The Company’s courts exist for the Company’s benefit. The Company’s armies will enforce the ruling of their courts in disputes between the Company and any others, but they will not intervene in squabbles between Indian people. They will do little for the protection of country merchants either, unless the Company can gain an advantage from using a dispute.”
Mr Fong was amazed, and most displeased.
“What, Mr Jackson, will happen in Canton if the Company believes it might be better served by taking control of the city?”
“If, Mr Fong, the Company can persuade the British government to send out ships and men, and pay the bills for them, they will take Canton as they have taken so many states in India. They will pay local men to sit in their offices and will rule through them.”
I was young, but it was not difficult to understand the situation in India.
“There are French and Swedes and Dutch in Canton as well as English, Mr Jackson, as well as other small countries and private firms.”
“As an Englishman, I can say nothing to that, Mr Fong. I believe there have been a number of wars in Europe in the last century and I am told there will be more before too long, Mr Fong. England has the largest navy and owns the western seas. To spend money on the Dutch and the French might be to lose that money, sir.”
“The French have colonies still in India, do they not?”
“Not for long, when the next war starts, Mr Fong. They are small and the government has its eye on them.”
Fong spent some time in the next few weeks away from me, probably confirming my opinions with Mr Ainslie. Very often when he was not present, I sat at ease in one of the comfortable lounges in Ainslie’s vast house, reading some of the many books he had there or talking with Sunitra, who seemed almost inevitably to appear at my side soon after I sat down. The little girl had few friends of her own age to play with and enjoyed talking of England, which she had never seen and could not hope to go to, or explaining much that she knew of the behaviour of the servants and why they did certain things.
I enjoyed talking with her, had many a long chat over those few weeks of idleness.
The Parsee merchant sent word that his ship was to sail and we began the process of shifting the jade to his car
e. I spoke with Jamadar Rao and brought his men and mine to form a guard over the single wagon that carried the valuable boxes. Fred appeared at my back, fully armed.
“Your pistol belt, Mr Giles. I’ve loaded ‘em. Put it on.”
“Where have you been these last weeks, Fred?”
“With the men, Mr Giles. We set up in a little place down by the waterfront, all our own. Maneater arranged it. Handed over half our pay to ‘im, so we did, and got fed and all the booze we wanted and a different girl every night, if that was what you fancied. Bloody good run ashore, Mr Giles!”
I looked properly envious and said nothing. Two of the housemaids had been looking after my personal needs, all on the quiet, and I was perfectly content. I had probably spent a little more than Fred on various presents, but there were worse ways of getting rid of one’s money.
I shrugged on the pistol belt and found that I had to let the buckle out two notches. In part that was because I was still growing, particularly on the chest and shoulders, but I had sat back in idleness and grown fleshy as well. Not a good idea! I had noticed that Mr Fong performed a regimen of exercises each day, and he was a well-muscled man despite being lean. I resolved to copy him. He was happy to show me what to do and how, and managed to laugh at my stiffness; he laughed at very little, generally.
Kept to that resolution, too. Still do a few stretches and jogs of a morning, but not too much these days. Lets me fool myself that I’m still active. At my age, I seem to spend a lot of time fooling myself that I ain’t decrepit yet. Silly old bugger! I’m getting ahead of myself – in a hurry, time being short at my age.
We formed up and marched down to the waterfront and onto a landing stage in a muddy sort of inlet, the nearest thing there was to a dock in those days when Bombay was still an island. There was a lighter waiting, maybe thirty feet long in the hold and with a dozen long sweeps on either side, a man on each. Not the sort of thing you would see on London’s river, but men cost a penny a day in Bombay – workers were cheap and begged for the chance to sweat eighteen hours a day for a bowl of rice. The alternative was no rice at all, of course.
Nobody’s Child Page 19