Mr King looked up and smiled: ‘I had hoped to discuss this at a public meeting but unfortunately nobody came; nor did the pledge garner a single signature other than mine. But I think in light of recent events, many will be willing to reconsider the matter.’
Bahram had been shifting uncomfortably in his seat, and now he said: ‘But the matter is not in our hands, Charles. Surely you do not think the traffic in opium would stop if we signed a pledge? Others will step in – because it is not we but the Chinese who are responsible for the trade. It is they who love opium after all.’
‘I cannot agree with you, Barry,’ said Mr King. ‘It is the ready availability of opium that makes it attractive; it is the inflow of the drug that creates the addict.’
‘But what do you propose we do Charles? There are thousands of crates of opium lying in ships offshore. What is to become of all this merchandise?’
‘Well not to mince words, Barry, I feel that all existing stocks must be surrendered.’
‘Really, Charles?’
Only for a moment did Bahram entertain the thought that the young man was joking – the glow of sincerity in his dark-browed face was enough to instantly dispel that notion.
Bahram cleared his throat cautiously and put his fingertips together. ‘But Charles! What you are recommending is a very extreme step, no? You are aware I am sure, that many merchants have stocked opium only because there were indications that the Chinese government might legalize the trade. Some mandarins had circulated memorials recommending this, as you must know.’
‘You are right, Barry,’ said King. ‘When the proposition to legalize the opium trade was first brought before the Chinese government we at Olyphant amp; Co. also thought that matters were fast tending to that result. But such has not proved to be the case. The memorials have been rejected and the Imperial opposition to the use of the “vile dirt” continues unabated. Whatever doubt there was on that score was settled, surely, on the morning of 12th December?’
‘What do you mean?’ said Bahram.
‘You must be aware, Barry, that the governor had a very specific intent in mounting the execution of Ho Lao-kin in the heart of our enclave.’
Bahram dropped his eyes and withdrew his hands into his choga: ‘What was that intent, Charles?’
‘You will surely have seen the Governor’s letter on this subject? It was written in answer to the Chamber’s accusation that he had disrespected the foreign flags. He said: The penalty of death to which Ho Lao-kin had subjected himself, was the result of the pernicious introduction of opium into Canton by depraved foreigners; his execution, in front of the foreign factories was designed to arouse reflection amongst the foreigners – for foreigners, although born and brought up beyond the pale of civilization, have yet human hearts.’
Suddenly Bahram remembered how he – the condemned man – had turned to look in the direction of his window. He shuddered and his hand instinctively sought the reassurance of his kasti.
‘Did you know, Barry, that the authorities are rumoured to have extracted an extensive confession from Ho Lao-kin? He is said to have told them that he had been inducted into the opium trade at a very young age, by a merchant who gifted him a ball of the drug. I have heard that when Ho Lao-kin learnt of his sentence he himself begged to be executed in the square.’
Bahram could not bear to listen any more. With a great effort he brought a smile to his face. ‘Well Charles, this is all very interesting,’ he murmured. ‘I will certainly give your suggestions due consideration. But regretfully this is a rather busy time… I am sure you will understand.’
‘Of course. I understand.’
Charles King left, looking rather puzzled, and Bahram went to his bedroom and lay down, with his hand resting on his kasti.
The next morning, there was an ominous piece of news: on stepping into his daftar Bahram discovered that Lin Tse-hsu was on his way to Canton.
Sethji, it has been confirmed, said the munshi. Lin Tse-hsu was given his appointment on the night of December the 31st, by the Son of Heaven himself.
So he is to be the next Governor, is he?
No, Sethji. He will be much more powerful than the present Governor. His position is that of ‘Imperial High Commissioner’ – ‘Yum-chae’ in Cantonese. He will be more like a Viceroy than a Governor – he will be above the admirals, the generals and all other officials.
What is the reason for that?
Sethji, it is because the Emperor has specifically entrusted him with the job of ending the opium trade. Apparently when the Emperor gave Lin Tse-hsu the appointment he told him, with tears in his eyes, that after his death he would not be able to face his father and grandfather if opium smoking had not been eradicated from the land.
Bahram came to a halt by the window: Are you sure this is not just gossip, munshiji?
Ji, Sethji. The outgoing Governor and Lieutenant-Governor have issued a joint notice. A very stern proclamation, addressed to foreign merchants. I’ve picked out some bits.
Go on.
‘ “In times past edict after edict has been directed against opium, and we, the Governor and Lieutenant-Governor, have often reiterated our commands and admonitions. But even to the last, gain alone has been your aim, and our words have filled your ears as the empty wind. At this time, the great Emperor, in his bitter detestation of the evil habit, has his thoughts hourly bent on washing it clean away. In the capital he has commanded the ministers of his court to deliberate and to draw up plans. Besides all this the Emperor has just now appointed a high officer as his special Commissioner, to repair to Canton in order to examine and adopt measures in reference to the affairs of the sea-port. The Commissioner is now not far off; his arrival is expected shortly. His purpose is to cut off utterly the source of this noxious abuse, to strip bare and root up this enormous evil; and though the axe should break in his grip or the boat should sink from beneath him, he will not stay his hand till the work is accomplished.”’
‘Does he say anything about what measures the Commissioner has in mind?’
Ji, Sethji.
‘ “We have already received, with the deepest respect, an edict commanding the admirals of every station, along with the commanders of the different garrisons and military stations, to dispatch squadrons of warships to seize the native smuggling boats and drive out the loitering foreign ships. It appears that several hundred seizures have already been made. As for those villains who have grown grey in this nefarious traffic, to them shall be awarded the most awful penalty of the law, as was the case with the criminal Ho Lao…”’
This time the munshi interrupted himself, without Bahram’s having to say a word.
Maaf karna, Sethji; please excuse me.
Perversely, the apology only deepened Bahram’s disquiet: what did the munshi know? Had the staff been discussing these matters below stairs?
His head began to throb and he decided to lie down for a bit.
That’s enough for now, munshiji. I’ll call you when I’m ready.
Ji, Sethji.
Not long after this there was a rare piece of good news: foreign-owned boats were once again being issued permits to leave and enter Canton. But when the traffic resumed it was learnt that the opium fleet, still at anchor off the outer islands, had been joined by several more vessels, recently arrived from Bombay and Calcutta.
Soon there was a slew of letters; among them were some that commented on the state of the markets in India. Bahram discovered to his shock that the poppy harvest of the last year had turned out to be the most bountiful ever; the markets of Calcutta and Bombay were awash with opium and the price of the drug had crashed. A great number of would-be merchants were now leaping into the trade.
For Bahram, the news was disastrous on many counts: it was galling enough to know that he could have purchased his cargo at half the price if only he had waited a few months; it was worse still that he no longer had the option of taking his consignment back to Bombay, in the event of its remaining unsold – the Indian prices were now so low that he would not recoup even a fraction of his costs.