Flood of Fire (71 page)

But Zachary was careful to keep his voice level. ‘It must have been pleasant to be in Macau,' he said. ‘I'm told the town is filled with convalescing military men.'

She was silent for just long enough that he knew he had rattled her. Then, recovering herself she continued: ‘Were there many military men about in Macau? I didn't see any, but then I hardly left the house.'

‘Really?'

Zachary had been waiting for this moment and he knew exactly what he was going to say. Mimicking the silky tone that she herself often used, he said: ‘As it happens I was in Macau myself for a couple of days and I could swear I saw you going into a milliner's shop one afternoon, down the street from the St Lazarus Church. As a matter of fact, I even saw you coming out after an hour or two, with Captain Mee. I'm told this milliner sometimes has a room to rent.'

‘Mr Reid!' Mrs Burnham had gone white. ‘What on earth are you implying?'

A bark of laughter broke from Zachary's throat. ‘Oh come, Mrs Burnham, there's no need to pretend with me. You forget that I am perfectly familiar with your play-acting.'

‘What on earth … what do you mean, Mr Reid?' she said, stumbling over her words.

Zachary saw from the corner of his eye that Mrs Burnham's face had disappeared behind her parasol. ‘Captain Mee is the one, isn't he, Mrs Burnham? The lieutenant you told me about?'

This set the parasol twirling in agitation so he softened his tone. ‘There's no need to hide your face, Mrs Burnham.'

Now at last she answered, in a faltering, breathless rush. ‘Oh please, Mr Reid. All we did was talk – you will not speak of it to anyone, will you?'

Her capitulation softened Zachary a little. Without quite meaning to he voiced the question that had been circling in his head ever since the night of the levée.

‘Why him, Mrs Burnham? What do you see in that clodhopping dingleberry?'

‘I can't tell you,' she said softly. ‘I don't know the answer. All I can say is that if it were in my hands I would not have chosen him.'

‘And why is that?'

‘Because we're different, he and I. He is utterly without calculation, without guile; he is ruled entirely by his sense of duty. It is strange to say so, but I do not think I have ever known anyone so completely selfless.'

A thin smile rose to Zachary's lips. ‘You are either deluded or naive, Mrs Burnham,' he retorted. ‘There is nothing selfless about these military men. They are all drowning in debt; they can be bought for fifty dollars apiece. You should ask your husband about it – he has plenty of them in his pocket.'

‘Not Neville,' she said with calm certainty. ‘He is not that kind of man.'

Zachary noticed now that her eyes had strayed to the other end of the parade ground, where Captain Mee could be seen, leaning against the hilt of his sword as he chatted with some other officers.

‘Is that what you believe?' said Zachary. ‘That Captain Mee is immune to the inducements that tempt other men?'

‘Yes,' she said. ‘I am sure of it.'

He permitted himself a smile. ‘Well,' he said, ‘we shall see.'

To grease the captain's palms would not be easy, Zachary knew, but he was certain that it could be done: it was certainly a challenge worth rising to. And the more he thought about it the more important it seemed that he should succeed in the endeavour – for would it not thwart the design of the world if one man were allowed to flout the law of cupidity, that great engine of progress that matched needs to gains, supply with demand, and thereby distributed the right rewards to those who most deserved them?

*

Compton was visiting the
Cambridge
the day the gun salute was fired at Hong Kong.

The sound was heard clearly at the Tiger's Mouth, where the
Cambridge
was still at anchor. Everybody understood that the shots were being fired by the English to celebrate their acquisition of
the island; this aroused revulsion and sadness among all aboard but most of all in Compton.

Yet he knew very well that there was nothing to be done about it: Governor-General Qishan was in the impossible position of having to reconcile his instructions from the Emperor – to drive out the invaders at all costs – with the realities of the situation, which was that the British already had effective possession of the island; to wrest it from them was impossible without a change in the balance of firepower. If the Governor-General had not conceded the demands the British might have pushed on to Guangzhou, inflicting even greater losses. The best hope now was that the Emperor, on receiving the governor's dispatches, would perceive the wisdom of following a policy of limiting the damage.

But the Emperor was unpredictable; there was no knowing how he would respond. And until word came from Beijing, what else was there to do but prepare for another British attack? This indeed was why Compton had come to the
Cambridge
: he was bearing orders for the vessel to move up to the First Bar of the Pearl River.

The First Bar was a feature that Neel knew well: it was a kind of cataract, only a few li from Whampoa. There were two such bars, or cataracts, on the Pearl River; at these points in the river's course the water ran shallow and the channel was broken up by shifting shoals and sandbars. The navigable lanes changed from week to week and deep-draughted ships had to hire specialized pilots to guide them past the obstacles.

Neel had grown familiar with the First Bar during his time at Whampoa: the terrain there was flat and green, the river being flanked on both sides by rice-fields, orchards and scattered villages. In normal times the landscape was reminiscent of the Bengal countryside, lush, bucolic and sleepy.

But when the
Cambridge
arrived at the First Bar now, Neel saw that there had been dramatic changes in its surroundings. In the last month thousands of troops and workers had set up camp on either side of the river. A mud-walled fort had risen on the east bank: extending outwards from it was a gigantic raft, built with massive timbers; it stretched from shore to shore and was so solidly built that it looked like a dam. Hundreds of acres of forest had been cut down for the construction of the raft; the cost had been
borne by the merchants of the Co-Hong: they were rumoured to have spent thousands of silver taels on the timber alone.

One section of the raft was moveable, to allow traffic to go through when necessary. The
Cambridge
crossed over to the other side and dropped anchor just abaft of the raft, across the river from the fort. The
Cambridge
was to serve as the fort's counterpart, a floating gun-emplacement: her mission was to protect the raft's moorings on the western bank of the river.

After experimenting with various angles it was decided that the
Cambridge
would be tethered with her bows pointing in the direction from which the invaders' warships were expected to come. The advantage of this was that it narrowed the ship's profile, presenting a smaller target to the attackers; the disadvantage was that it reduced the number of guns that could be brought to bear on the stretch of river that lay ahead: in the event of an attack only the guns in the
Cambridge
's bows would be in play. To remedy this more gun-ports were created in the ship's nose, on all decks. The forward guns being of critical importance, great care was invested in their manning. A dozen of the ship's most competent sailors were chosen to be golondauzes and they were given free rein to pick their own men. Jodu was one of the first to be appointed: much to Neel's joy, Jodu picked him for his gun-crew, giving him the job of
sumbadar
or rammer-man.

For the next fortnight the gun-crews spent their time devising and practising drills. The officers could provide little guidance, being unaccustomed to Western-style ships, so the crewmen had to draw up their own protocols, from memory. A Macahnese lascar who had served on a Portuguese naval vessel took the lead: it was he who drew up the drill for clearing the deck and summoning the crew to battle-stations.

Through this time Compton continued to visit the
Cambridge
regularly, bearing news. Talks were still under way, he said, between the British and Chinese; Compton himself often translated for the Governor-General's emissaries. But as for progress there was little to report: so far as the British were concerned there was nothing to be discussed except the ratification of the convention of Chuenpee. They would not be satisfied unless the Emperor conceded all their demands.

For his part, Compton was convinced that the Daoguang Emperor would not make any concessions. And sure enough he returned to the
Cambridge
one morning with the news that the Emperor had indeed repudiated the treaty in its entirety. Not only that, he had severely reprimanded Governor-General Qishan for making concessions to the British. His instructions to the authorities in Guangdong remained unchanged: no compromise was possible and the invader had to be repelled at all costs. But this time the Emperor had done more than issue exhortations: he had personally sanctioned funds for the rebuilding and strengthening of all the Pearl River fortifications. In addition thousands of troops from Hunan, Sichuan and Yunnan were to be sent to Guangdong to reinforce the province's defences.

Over the next few days a great number of fresh troops poured into the area around the First Bar. Beside the
Cambridge
a fortified encampment arose, manned by a battalion-strength unit of tough, seasoned troops from Hunan.

It was evident from these preparations that the raft had become a key element in the safeguarding of Guangzhou: in effect it was the city's last line of defence. Past this point the river branched off into many channels; there were so many of them that it was impossible to effectively block them all. This meant that if British warships succeeded in breaking through at the First Bar then Whampoa and Guangzhou would be at their mercy.

One night, looking at the campfires that were burning on both shores of the river, Neel burst into laughter.

Why are you laughing? said Jodu.

It just occurred to me, said Neel, that the responsibility for defending Canton has fallen on a motley crew of ‘black-aliens'.

*

Towards the middle of February Mr Burnham accompanied the expedition's commanders on one of their periodic expeditions to meet with Qishan. On his return, he told Zachary that the Plenipot was losing hope of having the treaty ratified by the Emperor. At the most recent meeting Qishan had seemed very much cast down, not at all his usual polished self; his manner had been strangely evasive as though he were concealing something. Captain Elliot had garnered the impression that the Emperor had already made
his decision: the agreement that he and Qishan had negotiated at Chuenpee had been repudiated.

As for Commodore Bremer, he and several other officers had long believed that Captain Elliot was on a fool's errand; it was clear to them that the mandarins were just playing for time in order to shore up their defences. Of late many signs of a military build-up had been observed around the Tiger's Mouth. Information had also been received that the Celestials were taking steps to block the river's navigable channels with chains, stakes and rafts.

These preparations had caused much outrage among the British leadership: they were seen as a clear sign of Chinese perfidy, offering vindication to those who believed that the victory at Chuenpee should have been consolidated with an attack on Canton. These officers were now urging swift action: if the Chinese were given more time to prepare then it would only make their own job harder in the end. Many were pressing for an immediate attack leading to the seizure of Canton itself.

Yielding to the pressure, Captain Elliot had agreed to issue an ultimatum to Qishan: if the ratified treaty were not received within four days then Guangzhou would face attack.

Few were those, said Mr Burnham, who entertained any hope of a peaceful resolution. Preparations for the renewal of hostilities were already under way. Word was out that merchant ships would be needed to serve as support vessels for the British attack force.

At this a thought leapt to Zachary's mind. ‘Is there any chance, sir,' he said, ‘that the
Ibis
might be used by the expedition? She is sitting idle after all and there is nothing I would like more than to support our brave soldiers and sailors.'

Mr Burnham smiled and patted Zachary on the back. ‘Your enthusiasm does you credit, Reid! That thought had occurred to me too. I will try to put a word in the commodore's ear – I cannot promise anything of course. Everyone is clamouring to lend their ships to the fleet, even the Parsis, so it will not be easy.'

The next few days passed in great anxiety for Zachary. Such was his eagerness to join the expedition that he found it hard to keep
his mind on the construction of Mr Burnham's godown. Only on the day that Captain Elliot's ultimatum expired was the matter resolved: a beaming Mr Burnham came striding up to the work site, to announce that he had good news: the British attack would be launched in a day or two and the
Ibis
had been included in the list of six support vessels that were to sail with the fleet. Her job was to carry supplies of munitions and to serve as a holding-ship for the badly wounded.

Zachary was overjoyed: to witness a seaborne attack at first-hand seemed to him as great an adventure as he could ever have wished for.

‘And what about you, sir? Will you be sailing with the fleet too?'

‘So I shall,' said Mr Burnham proudly. ‘I'll be on the
Wellesley
again with Commodore Bremer. He has invited me to join him on his flagship. It is a signal honour.'

‘Indeed it is, sir, but it is no more than your due. But what about the
Anahita
? Will she remain here at Hong Kong?'

‘Yes,' said Mr Burnham. ‘My wife has decided that she would like to remain here. The commodore has advised the merchant fleet to move to Saw Chow but I think he is being overly cautious. I cannot imagine that there will be any danger.'