My Splendid Concubine (67 page)

It was frustrating to see the Chinese being victim
ized by the British and French, and he was ashamed of his own people.

“
The demands that the British and French are making is one-sided,” Robert said, “It is wrong.”

“
It is best to flow with the river’s current, Master. As evil as the opium trade is, the Imperial Dynasty should not have resisted. It would be unwise to protest.”

Robert realized
Guan-jiah was right. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I will guard my tongue around the British and French.”

“
Do not trust the Chinese either,” the eunuch said. “Loose lips are capable of spreading a plague.”

Working on the treaty was challenging. Robert felt trapped b
etween fundamental cultural differences and his values. He still remembered the time he’d been searching for Ward in Shanghai and ended in one of Boss Takee’s opium dens. China would be better off without the drug, yet here he was helping the trade expand.

The final treaty favo
red the British opium merchants and the opium trade was legalized, the collie trade grew, and the British merchants were exempt from paying internal transit duties for their imports. The Dynasty had to pay two million silver taels to the British merchants for the opium confiscated and burned early in the war, and another two million taels went to the British and French governments for the cost of the war.

“
I will not be silent if this happens again,” Robert said. “If there is another unjust war as this one was, I will speak my mind. I will not stand by and watch China be raped and robbed.”

“
Master, one voice is easily lost in the crowd’s noise. I have learned that all wounds may heal, and only those who feel like victims suffer. The dead feel nothing.”

The days were long, and he often finished working late at night. As was his habit, he walked home alone but kept a hand on his revolver in a jacket pocket. On a dark and empty street, just a block from his house, he sensed a movement to his left.

The moment he saw the knife in the man
’s hand, he felt a rush of energy. Everything around him slowed while he moved at lightning speed. He brought out the revolver and fired a round into the assailant. He fired a second shot for good measure.

There was a grunt of surprise. The man staggered back with a stunned look on his face.

When he was on his back and appeared not to be a threat, Robert stood over him. When he saw the knife was still in the man’s hand, he kicked the blade away and looked around to make sure they were alone. Once he was satisfied there were no other threats, he knelt and examined the man, who was dressed like a common sailor.

“
Who sent you?” he said. Obviously, the man was not going to live long. Blood gushed from both wounds.

The assailant laughed.
“You’re a marked man, governor,” he said in a dry cockney accent, which marked him as a man of the docks from Plymouth or London. He coughed and blood bubbled from his mouth. “You made the wrong man angry.”

Was Patridge behind this? That made sense. After all, Ro
bert had spurned the captain’s offer, and Patridge had many sailors working for him in the opium trade.

“
I never expected it to turn out this way,” the man said. “I thought I would finish the job as I’ve done before and collect the rest of my pay and be done with it.” He coughed and blood bubbled from his mouth.

Robert searched the man
’s pockets. The assailant tried to fend him off but was too weak. He found a hundred-pound Bank of England note. “Is this what Patridge paid you?” he said. “I’d think I was worth more than that.”

“
Who is Patridge?” the man asked. Then he coughed and sprayed blood on Robert’s jacket. “There would have been more when I finished the job,” the assassin said.

When he discovered the other pockets were empty, Robert
slapped the man’s face. “Tell me who paid you to do this? Was it the same man who was after me in Ningpo? Was it General Ward? Was it Hollister?

“
Don’t know them,” the man said, as he wheezed and spit up more blood.

Robert looked around. None of the local Chinese had come out of the surrounding houses at the sound of the shots. That was not unusual. If a small child were being swept away by a river and drowning, most Chinese would continue about their business as if no
one was screaming for help a few yards away. The child would surely die.

He focused h
is attention back on the assassin to discover the man’s mouth hung open and his eyes looked empty. Robert listened for a heartbeat and found none. The man was dead.

His hands started to shake, and he
searched the clothes again for any evidence that might tell him who had sent the man to kill him. When he found nothing, he left the body and hurried home feeling ill as if he were going to throw up.

After that day, he never traveled the streets without guards. Next time there was an attempt on his life he might not be so fortunate. It bothered him that he didn’t know who his enemy was and might be anyone even the Taipings.

His only clue was the one hundred-pound note and the fact that the man was British. It didn
’t make sense that a Chinese would pay a foreigner to kill him. If the Chinese had sent an assassin, Robert would have suffered a horrible and painful death from poisoning. He was sure of that.

Chapter 41

One morning in March 1861, Robert was at work when a dispatch arrived. After opening it, he gasped, and said, “Good Lord!”

Gerard, o
ne of the clerks, a Frenchman at a nearby desk, said, “What is it, Monsieur Hart? You look as if you saw a ghost.”

Robert
’s hand trembled and the paper fluttered.

“
Is it about your family in Ireland?” Gerard asked, staring at the shaking hand.

“
No. Horatio Lay was walking down a major Shanghai street without guards when a riot broke out around him and an unidentified assailant attacked him with a knife. Horatio was stabbed in the back and several times in his abdomen.”

“
Are you talking about the inspector general in Shanghai?” Gerard asked, as if he didn’t believe what he was hearing.

“
Yes.” Robert held out the dispatch. “Read for yourself.”

“
It says Monsieur Lay is fortunate to have survived,” the clerk said, and his face turned pale. “Two Germans armed with pistols saw Monsieur Lay go down, and they fired shots to scare off the Chinese mob. Then they carried him to the nearest consulate where he was provided with immediate medical care.”

Gerard handed the dispatch back.
“Monsieur Hart, this is a most horrible tragedy. You may be called to Shanghai to manage Customs until the inspector general recovers. Pardon me for being outspoken, but Monsieur Lay doesn’t have your diplomatic skills. He is too abrupt with the Chinese and does not show them the proper respect and courtesy. I don’t like speaking ill of someone who just came so close to death, but it is true.”

“
I appreciate your words.” He was pleased at the loyalty Gerard demonstrated, but he was careful not to smile thinking it would be inappropriate to agree even though he did. “We must get back to work.”

Gerard returned to his desk. Robert reread the words at the end of the dispatch.
‘He was fortunate to still be alive’. What had happened to Horatio could happen to any foreigner. He looked from the dispatch to Gerard. The Frenchman was going over numbers in a ledger. He made the right decision hiring Gerard. More than a dozen had applied for the position, but Gerard, besides having the skills needed, had been the only applicant who felt as Robert did about China.

Most of the interviews ended quickly.
However, he had spent more than an hour with Gerard talking about Taoism and Confucianism and how both influenced the culture. The others applicants had expressed no interest.

In fact, Robert
made it a point to reject anyone that thought like Horatio Lay or people like Parkes or Sir Bruce.

“
Monsieur Hart,” Gerard had said during the interview, “I’ve read Confucius in the original Chinese and was impressed at what he said about the ‘first of all virtues’.”

“
Go on.” Robert already knew about the positive and negative aspects of Confucius and his teachings, but he wanted to hear what Gerard had to say.

“
Confucius said that the reason for filial piety is not because it is to be seen in the home and not everyday life. The central idea behind filial piety was so man respects all those who are fathers in the world, and younger brothers should respect all those who are older brothers.”

“
And what did Confucius mean?”

“
That those who love their parents dare not show hatred to others and that those who respect their parents dare not show rudeness to others.” Gerard’s green eyes were full of light. “After I read Confucius, I felt ashamed, because I have often taken my father and my three older brothers for granted. I vowed I would never do so again.”

“
Do you see a similarity between filial piety and the Fifth Commandment: ‘Honor thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long’?” Robert asked.

“
Yes, it seems Confucius agreed with God about honoring parents. Do you think that Confucius knew about the Ten Commandments?”

“
The possibility exists. After all, Moses led the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt between thirteen and sixteen hundred years before Jesus Christ was born, and Confucius lived about five hundred years before Jesus. It would be safe to say that a thousand years would be sufficient time for knowledge of the Ten Commandments to reach China.”

That interview had taken place months ago.

He was still staring at Gerard, who was engrossed in his work. Robert closed his eyes and rubbed them. He had been getting only a few hours sleep at night, and his eyes were dry and itched. There was much to be done and never enough time.

The dispatch about the assault on Ho
ratio was folded and filed. He was pleased with his Frenchman, because Gerard was honest, loyal and hardworking. Best of all, he had an inquisitive mind and respected other cultures.

Robert
felt guilt. After all, Lay was older than he was. To Confucius, it didn’t matter that Horatio was someone Robert did not respect or like. Robert had to show respect no matter what. He was not allowed to be rude. He understood what Confucius meant. On the other hand, he was not Chinese.

When he thought about Horatio in mixed company with the Ch
inese, he saw a clumsy vulture blundering among peacocks. For that and other reasons, Robert could not always be courteous, as Confucius had taught— to forgive and look the other way as if nothing had happened.

He had been in China long
enough to see that as one of the flaws of Chinese culture. It automatically allowed unworthy people to gain positions of respect and power just because they were older.

Horatio saw China through a different lens. What Gerard had said about Lay was true. Horatio did not have a grasp of the Chinese mind or their culture. He spoke Mandarin fluently but saw China as another outlet for the British Empire to expand its power and add to the profits of its merchants.

What baffled Robert was why the Dynasty trusted Horatio. After all, Horatio did not believe that the Manchu or the Han should rule China. He felt Britain should be in charge as they were in India.

The only explanation was that Horatio had learned to keep his opinions to himself, at least around the Manchu royalty.

After t
he news got out, the subject of most conversations in Canton’s foreign community focused on Horatio Lay’s assault. Robert avoided getting involved, but he heard what others had to say.

“
I dread taking a walk even with a pistol,” one merchant said. “Who can be trusted in China besides our kind?”

“
I’ve had similar thoughts,” his companion replied. “What if China’s population suddenly goes over to the Taipings and defeats the Manchu? If the Ch’ing Dynasty falls, we will be sitting on a mountain of gunpowder ready to explode. It wouldn’t take long for the natives to be at our throats.”

“
From now on, if one of them gets too close, I’m going to give that Chinaman a thrashing he won’t forget,” the first merchant said.

That kind of talk worried Robert. If the foreign merchants and diplomats continued to treat the Chinese without respect, it would be like lighting the fuse to that pile of gunpowder. He saw that his job as a
‘cultural-go-between’ was going to become more of a challenge.

Chapter 42

A request to attend a private meeting with Lao Ch’ung-kuang, the governor-general of Canton, arrived a few weeks after Horatio had been wounded. Robert went to the governor’s palace and met Lao in his private office next to the formal audience hall. The office was twice as wide as it was deep. To the left sat a desk.