Amitav Ghosh - Flood of Fire

As a bonus, instead of having to march all the way back to Calcutta, Kesri returned on a ship: the first steam-powered vessel ever seen in the East — the Enterprize .

After returning to Barrackpore Kesri went to see Hukam Singh at the cantonment hospital. He found him so changed that it was as though he had become a different man. He was walking now, but with a pronounced limp; he was also much thinner, and looked as if the flesh of his face had wasted away. But the changes in his speech and demeanour were even greater than the alterations in his appearance. A look of resigned melancholy had replaced the malice that had so often lurked in his eyes before. He seemed almost gentle, like a man who had found some kind of inner peace.

Over the next few years, the men of the Pacheesi were almost continuously in the field, fighting in Assam, Tripura and the Jungle-Mahals. Occasionally sepoys would go home on leave, and since many of them were related to Hukam Singh, Kesri would occasionally get news of him. He learnt that Hukam Singh had gone back to his village, near Ghazipur, and that Bhyro Singh had got him a good job at the opium factory.

Then one day, some three years after the Arakan campaign, Kesri was summoned by Bhyro Singh, who was now at the very top of the ladder of sepoy ranks — a subedar. His brother, Nirbhay Singh, now a jamadar, was also with him.

Was it true, they wanted to know, that Kesri had a younger sister who was still unmarried?

This was completely unexpected but Kesri gathered his wits together and said yes, it was true that his youngest sister, Deeti, was still unmarried.

They explained to him that they had received a letter from Hukam Singh: he and his brother Chandan had gone to the mela near Nayanpur, and had learnt about Deeti from the sadhus. Hukam Singh was keen to marry her and had asked Kesri to intercede with his parents.

But is Hukam Singh well enough to get married? said Kesri. He wasn’t in good health when I last saw him.

Bhyro Singh nodded: Yes, Hukam Singh has recovered his health, although he will always walk with a limp. He wants nothing more than to marry.

Seeing that Kesri was still unconvinced, Bhyro Singh added: What is to lose? I hear your sister’s stars are not good, and she is already of an age when it will be hard for her to find a husband. Hukam Singh has a good job and several bighas of land. Isn’t this a good offer?

The truth of this could not be denied: Kesri knew that his parents were worried about Deeti’s marital prospects and he did not doubt that they would be overjoyed by the proposal. And nor would Hukam Singh, in his present state, make an objectionable husband: he was a changed man now; no longer was he the vicious bully he had been in the past.

Yet, something in Kesri jibbed at the thought of handing his beloved Deeti to a member of Bhyro Singh’s family.

Bhyro Singh must have read his reluctance on his face, for he said: Listen, Naik Kesri Singh, there is another thing you should consider: this marriage would link your family to ours and it would make you one of us. And if you were one of us, we would see to it that you were quickly promoted to havildar. What do you say? Why don’t we settle it right now? I am going home on leave soon, and I would like to see Hukam Singh settled and married while I am there.

Kesri realized then that this was not just an offer but also a threat. A promotion had been due to him for a while and he knew that the only reason he had not received it was because Bhyro Singh, as the battalion’s subedar, had not supported it. If he turned down this offer now another promotion might never come his way.

He took a deep breath.

Hokhe di jaisan kahtani , he said. Let it be as you say; I will send a letter home.

Within a few months the marriage was arranged. Kesri was unable to attend the wedding but he heard about it from Bhyro Singh, who told him that everything had gone exactly as it was meant to and the marriage had been duly consummated on the wedding night. Deeti had been found to be a virtuous woman, a virgin.

At the end of the year, he heard from his family that Deeti had given birth to a daughter, by the name of Kabutri.

The next year Kesri went on leave again, for the fourth time in his twelve years of service. He was now the father of three children, one boy and two girls. His second daughter had been born after his last visit and he had yet to see her.

During his stay in Nayanpur, Deeti came to visit, with her daughter. She had looked a little careworn and had stayed only a couple of nights: but as far as Kesri could tell she was content with her lot — she had certainly made no complaint and just before leaving she had painted a picture of Kabutri and given it to Kesri. He still had it in his keeping.

It grieved Kesri now to think of his little sister as a widow already. He could not understand why his family had not written, or sent word of what had happened.

November 4, 1839

Honam

Two days ago an urgent letter arrived from Zhong Lou-si, who is away in another county, touring with Commissioner Lin. The letter said that Compton and I were to leave immediately for Whampoa, to catch a passage-boat. We were to travel to Humen, which is the location of a customs house where every incoming ship has to obtain clearance to proceed to Canton.

Apparently a British-owned vessel, the Royal Saxon , had just come in from Java; the captain, an Englishman, had indicated that he wanted to proceed to Canton with his goods. The captain had even indicated that he was willing to sign a bond, forswearing the opium trade, on penalty of his life. This was good news for us, because Captain Elliot has for the last several months prevented British merchants from coming to Canton because he did not want them to sign the bond. But here at last was a sign that British merchants were at last willing to defy the Plenipotentiary himself — this was exactly what Commissioner Lin has been hoping for. One other English vessel had already broken Captain Elliot’s embargo: if the Royal Saxon too was able to proceed to Canton then many others would surely follow — it would be a great victory for Commissioner Lin!

Our instructions were to serve as translators for the customs house officials who’d be dealing with the captain and crew: our job was to make sure that there were no misunderstandings. The sailors were mainly lascars, which was why it was necessary for me to be present. Since I’m classified as a yi , a foreigner, Zhong Lou-si had enclosed a special chop, to make sure that I encountered no official difficulties.

Humen overlooks the channel that Europeans call the Bogue or Bocca Tigris — the ‘Tiger’s Mouth’. It is about one hundred and eighty Chinese li from Guangzhou — about sixty English miles — and the journey, by boat, usually takes a day and a half.

We had no time to waste: the tide had just crested at Guangzhou and Compton said that the passage-boats would depart when the current turned. I went home to pack a few things, and we met again at Jackass Point, in the foreign enclave. From there a ferry took us to Whampoa where we caught a passage-boat for Humen.

The se boats are long, caterpillar-like vessels, crowded with passengers, livestock, cargo and vendors. Our official chop was a big help and we were able to find a quiet corner in which to settle in for the night.

We reached Humen in the late afternoon, on the second day. The town is of modest size, but it adjoins the largest defensive field-works of the Pearl River. There is a fort there with a massive battery of guns; it serves as the channel’s gatekeeper — foreigners call it the fort of Anunghoy. Behind the fort, the shore slopes steeply upwards, to form a crested ridge. At the top of this hill there is another fortified gun-emplacement with a powerful battery of cannon.