Amitav Ghosh - Flood of Fire

Kesri assumed that it was only a matter of time before the sepoys too were trained in the handling of the new guns. But many weeks went by and when there was still no sign of any moves in that direction he decided to dispense with discretion: he confronted Captain Mee, asking if he knew about the new guns and whether they were to be issued to the sepoys or not.

Captain Mee was evasive at first, but after some prodding it became apparent that he too was indignant about the matter: he had been pressing to have the gun issued to the Bengal Volunteers, he said, but had been told that too few of them had been sent out from England. Besides, the new muskets had been introduced very recently and were still on trial, which was why the high command had decided that they would be issued only to British regiments.

‘It’s always the same story, isn’t it, havildar?’ said the captain, in a tone of embittered resignation. ‘They send us to fight with old equipment and then they complain that sepoys don’t match up to white troops.’

One day, with Sarjeant Maggs’s help, Kesri was able to observe a training session with practice ammunition, in the Instruction Shed. He noticed that when the new musket was fired there was no puff of smoke, like those that always preceded a shot from a flintlock like his own. Later, when he examined the gun more closely he found an even more important difference — the new guns did not have powder pans like the old Brown Besses. The significance of this was immediately evident to him: unlike the flintlocks, which were difficult to fire in wet or damp conditions, the new percussion guns were all-weather weapons.

That night he asked Captain Mee: ‘Sir, there is much rain in China, sir?’

Captain Mee knew exactly what he was getting at. ‘Let’s hope we get to fight when it’s dry, havildar — there’s not much else we can do about it.’

Kesri was careful not to mention the new musket to his own men, knowing that their morale would be further eroded if they learnt that they were to be sent overseas with inferior weapons. But it was impossible to conceal something like that indefinitely. The sepoys found out soon enough — and the effect on morale was just as Kesri had feared.

Zachary’s brief encounter with Mr Burnham, at the opium auction, made him impatient to be done with all his commitments in Calcutta. His debts to the Harbourmaster’s office he had already paid off and his mate’s licence had been duly restored to him. The work on the budgerow was also close to completion: he had finished with the deck-planks and other parts that needed replacing; the vessel’s head-works and upper stem had been retouched and repointed; the cabins had been cleaned and repolished; all that remained now was the carving of the stem-cheeks and some final finishing touches.

A few days of hard work brought the refurbishment to a close. Once it was done Zachary wasted no time in sending a chit to the Burra Sahib, to tell him that his vessel was ready to be inspected.

Mr Burnham came over the next morning and spent a good hour looking over the budgerow. At the end of it he thumped Zachary on the back — ‘Good job, Reid! Well done!’ — bringing a flush of pride to his face.

Zachary was eager now to hear about the proposition that Mr Burnham had mentioned at the auction, but he had to contain his impatience for a while yet: the Burra Sahib seemed to be in no hurry to get to it. Seating himself in a large armchair, Mr Burnham ran a hand over his lustrous beard.

‘It gladdened my heart, Reid,’ said Mr Burnham pensively, ‘to hear that the spirit of enterprise has stirred in you. A new age is dawning, you know — the age of Free Trade — and it’s men like you and I, self-made Free-Traders, who will be its heroes. If ever there’s been an exciting time for a venturesome white youth to seek his destiny in the East, then this is it. You are aware, I hope, that a military expedition is soon to be sent to China?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Good. In my view it is but a matter of months before the largest market in the world is forced open by the troops that are now being assembled in this city. When that happens China’s Manchu tyrants, who are the last obstacles to the universal rule of freedom, will also be swept aside. After their fall we will see the birth of an epoch when God’s design will be manifest for all to see. Those who have been predestined to flourish will come into their own and to them will be awarded custody of the world’s riches. You are singularly fortunate to have been presented with what might well be the greatest commercial opportunity of this century: now if ever is the time to discover whether you too are among the elect.’

‘Indeed, sir?’ said Zachary in some puzzlement. ‘I’m not sure I understand.’

‘I am speaking, Reid, of the China expedition …’

This venture, Mr Burnham proceeded to explain, was itself an opportunity of unmatched dimensions. Not only would vast profits be created when the markets of China were opened to the world, but the expedition would also establish a new pattern of war-making, in which men of business would be involved in the entirety of the enterprise, from the drafting of strategy to dealing with Parliament, informing the public, and providing logistical support. This conflict would be nothing like the wasteful and destructive campaigns of the past; here all the hard-earned lessons of commerce would be applied to the full and the emphasis throughout would be on minimizing losses for Great Britain, of money as well as life.

To a degree unheard of before, said Mr Burnham, the expedition would rely on private enterprise for support, and this itself would open up innumerable avenues for profit, in matters ranging from the chartering of vessels to the procurement of supplies for the troops. Moreover, as the expedition advanced northwards along China’s eastern coast it would provide access to many hitherto unexploited markets. Under the protection of the Royal Navy’s warships, British merchant vessels would be able to sell their goods offshore, near heavily populated areas where the demand for opium was sure to be huge, because of the recent disruptions in the supply of the drug. Every chest would fetch a fortune.

‘Make no mistake, Reid: although this expedition is trifling in size, it will create a revolution. Mark my words: it will change the map of this continent!’

So great would be this change, Mr Burnham predicted, that the very locus of commerce would shift eastwards. One of the expedition’s chief aims was to force the Chinese to cede an island off the China coast: a new port, embodying all the ideals of Free Trade, would be created there. His old friend and colleague, Mr Hugh Hamilton Lindsay, the former president of the Canton Chamber of Commerce, had been advocating such a course for many years, especially in relation to one perfectly placed island, Hong Kong. Thanks to the influence of Mr Jardine, it appeared that the government had at last decided to heed Mr Hamilton’s sage advice. Come what may, a new port would be created in China, one that would be safe from the oppressions of that empire’s Manchu despots. No longer would tyrants be able to stamp the label of ‘smuggler’ upon honest opium traders like Mr Burnham: from this new bastion of freedom, the products of Man and the word of God would alike be directed, with redoubled energy, towards the largest, most populous nation on earth.

There could be little doubt, Mr Burnham continued, that the new port would soon waylay much of the trade that now went to Canton. This was why several tycoons, including Mr Lancelot Dent and Mr James Matheson were already manoeuvring to be the first out of the gate when the island was seized. This indeed was why he himself had decided to move his own operations eastwards, to the China coast.