Amitav Ghosh - Flood of Fire

Now Mr Burnham turned to Captain Mee, who was standing beside him. Raising a hand, he placed it on the captain’s epaulette.

‘On shoulders such as these will fall the task of freeing a quarter of mankind from tyranny; of bestowing on the people of China the gift of liberty that the British Empire has already conferred on all those parts of the globe that it has conquered and subjugated.’

Mr Burnham paused to gesture at all the young officers who were assembled on the quarter-deck.

‘It is you, gentlemen, who will give to the Chinese the gifts that Britain has granted to the countless millions who glory in the rule of our gracious monarch, secure in the knowledge that there is no greater freedom, no greater cause for pride, than to be subjects of the British Empire. This is the divine mission that the Almighty Himself has entrusted to our race and our nation. I do not doubt for a moment, gentlemen, that you shall once again prove yourselves to be worthy of it.

‘Let no one say that our government has voluntarily sought this conflict. To the contrary we have been exemplars of patience; we have suffered insults, indignities and oppression with unmoving fortitude; we have sent mission after mission to parlay with the godless tyrant who calls himself the Son of Heaven — but all our efforts at diplomacy have come to nothing. Our ambassadors — representatives of the most powerful nation on earth — have been insulted or turned away; epithets like “barbarian eye” have been hurled at them; they have been told that they must prostrate themselves before the despot who claims to enjoy a divine mandate. All our efforts at conciliation and compromise have been unavailing; the Manchu oppressor has rebuffed them all. It is he, who, through his vainglorious ignorance, has brought upon himself the dreadful reckoning that shortly awaits him and his cohorts. It is he who bears the ultimate responsibility for the intolerable affronts that Commissioner Lin has inflicted on us, culminating as they did in an act of the grossest thievery — the seizure of our cargoes. But let it not be said for a moment that our present crusade is motivated by a desire for monetary restitution. This was a predestined conflict, as inevitable as the struggle between Cain and Abel. On one side stands a race that is mired in depravity, tyranny, self-conceit and evil; ranged on the other side are the truest, most virile representatives of freedom, civilization and progress that history has ever known.’

Here a burst of applause interrupted Mr Burnham; he raised a hand to acknowledge it before resuming.

‘Let us not forget that at the heart of this conflict lie two precious and inviolable values, freedom and dignity. This war will be fought not only to liberate the Sons of Han from Manchu tyranny, but also to protect our own dignity, which has suffered greater outrages in this land than in any other.’

This was answered by a spontaneous chorus of ‘Shame! Shame!’

Mr Burnham let the shouts die down before continuing: ‘Is it conceivable that we should forever swallow the insults that are hurled at white men in this land? Shall we always permit ourselves to be vilified as “barbarians”, “foreign devils”, “red-haired demons” and the like?’

The gathering responded with a roar: ‘No! Never!’

‘Is it conceivable,’ said Mr Burnham, ‘that we, who stand under the proudest, most warlike flag on earth, should not seek satisfaction for repeated and heinous affronts to the representatives of our most gracious Sovereign?’

Again he paused and again the gathering answered with a roar: ‘No!’

‘So be it,’ said Mr Burnham. ‘Let the Celestials taste the retribution they have invited upon themselves and let us hope that it will make them turn towards the path of redemption — for does not the Good Book say, “If ye endure chastening, God dealeth with you as sons; for what son is he whom the father chasteneth not?” Indeed I envy the Chinese their good fortune in that the rod of their chastening will be wielded by hands like these.’

Reaching for Captain Mee’s wrist, Mr Burnham held up his arm, drawing cheers from the audience.

Now, with the last rays of the setting sun shining directly on him, Mr Burnham’s face reddened, as if in exaltation: ‘I have not the least doubt, gentlemen, that God will bless and aid you in your endeavour, for it is His work that you will be doing. When the task is finished China will be changed beyond recognition: this will be your legacy to history. Future generations will read with wonder of the miracle that you have wrought. Truly will it be said that never in the history of the world was so great a transformation brought about by so small a company of men!’

As cheers erupted around him, Mr Burnham raised a hand: ‘And now, gentlemen, let us say a prayer.’

*

Paulette was murmuring the words of the prayer, with her head lowered, when she caught another glimpse of Zachary and realized that he was still hovering nearby. She would make her escape as soon as the prayer was over, she decided — but before she could slip away she was distracted by another announcement: ‘And now, ladies and gentlemen, a salute to our flag, by our fine Bengal sepoys.’

Even as Kesri was calling out the first command, Zachary was whispering in Paulette’s ear: ‘There is something I need to say to you …’

Escape being impossible now, Paulette headed aft, to the far end of the deck, where there was no danger of their being overheard. At every step she felt that she was being pushed literally to her limit; when she reached the bulwark she turned on Zachary, eyes blazing: ‘No, Mr Reid!’ she hissed. ‘There is nothing that you need to say to me. Was your letter not enough? I know you now for what you are — a liar and betrayer. You are a person whose words are without worth or value. There is nothing you can say that would be of the least interest to me.’

These words, and the vehemence with which they were spoken, stung Zachary so deeply that his carefully composed apology wilted on his tongue. He could not think why he had indulged Mrs Burnham’s hopes of a reconciliation: why should he be saddled with the task of making amends for a misunderstanding on her part? He had done more than enough for Paulette in the past and had never had anything but grief for his pains: his chief impulse now was to make Paulette eat her words, even the least of them — and at just that moment a shouted command drew his eyes to Kesri, who was standing at attention, at the far end of the maindeck, with his sword ceremonially upraised.

Suddenly Zachary knew exactly what he had to say.

‘Did you mean it, Miss Lambert,’ he said, ‘when you said that I have nothing of interest to say to you?’

‘Yes I did.’

‘Very well then — I shall undertake to prove you wrong.’

Zachary turned to point to Kesri who was now shouting a command at the squad of sepoys.

‘You see the havildar over there?’ said Zachary. ‘That tall sepoy? Well, I think it will be of great interest to you, Miss Paulette, to know who he is.’

‘Why? Who is he?’

Zachary paused so that his revelation, when it was made, would have the maximum effect: ‘He is the brother of your friend from the Ibis — Ditty.’

Paulette drew back, in shock. ‘I do not believe you, Mr Reid,’ she said, in a wavering voice. ‘You have misled me many times before — why should I repose any trust in what you say?’

‘Because it is true, Miss Lambert. The havildar and I travelled here on the same ship, the Hind . Somehow he found out that I had been on the Ibis . He came to speak to me about his sister and I told him what I knew. He asked me not to tell anyone about it, and I have respected his request, till today. But you at least should know who he is — for perhaps it will help you to remember that it was because of Ditty that you came to my cabin that night, on the Ibis ; it was for her sake that you begged me to let her husband escape, along with the other fugitives. I did as you asked, and for that I have had to spend many months in confinement, sleeping on cold stone floors, while you’ — now, as the memories of all his old grievances came flooding back, Zachary’s tone sharpened — ‘while you were lying on a bed of flowers and roses, having been adopted by a rich man.’