River of Smoke(181)
The reference to Jardine seemed to rattle Mr Wetmore, and his voice grew a little shaky. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘our letter explains, of course, that there was, in the past, some ambiguity in regard to the Chinese government’s position on the opium trade. At one time it was widely believed that the government might even legalize the trade. But whatever doubts may have existed in the past have certainly been removed by the Commissioner’s deeds and words. There is no reason now to hesitate in providing the pledge that he demands.’
‘Oh really?’ said Dent with silky smoothness. ‘And what of the ships that are already anchored around Hong Kong and the other outer harbours? Are we to meekly empty their holds and send the contents to the Commissioner?’
‘Not at all,’ said Wetmore. ‘Our letter explains that while the ships might belong to us, their cargoes do not. They are in effect the property of our investors, in Bombay, Calcutta and London. To surrender the cargoes is impossible: what we will do instead is send the ships back to India.’
For Bahram, this was the prospect most to be feared. ‘Send our cargoes back to India?’ he cried in alarm. ‘But you know, no Mr Wetmore, the price of opium has fallen to the floor in Bombay? And production has increased like anything. Where will our cargoes go? Who will buy? To send them to India will bring ruin.’
Bahram looked around the table and it seemed to him that many eyes had narrowed at the sound of the last word: if there was one thing he knew about the English language it was that nothing was more harmful to a merchant’s credit than the word ‘ruin’. He hastened to undo the damage. ‘I don’t mean any of us here, of course. We are all amply supplied with capital and will manage to get by. But what about small investors? We have to think of them, no? Many have put in whole life-savings. What of them?’
‘Exactly!’ cried Slade. ‘It seems to me from the sentimental tenor of what I have heard here that the vision of the Hongists’ blood spilt on the ground has blinded some of us from contemplating the consequences of surrendering our cargoes. Mr King and Mr Wetmore are so considerate of the sufferings of the Chinese that they are willing to drag down all those engaged in the opium traffic. But what of the ruination and destitution of those who have invested their savings in our shipments? What of their fall in station and society, leading perhaps to debtor’s prison, to workhouse alms and probably death by starvation?’
‘But surely, Mr Slade,’ interjected Mr King, ‘you are not suggesting that your investors are people of meagre means, who are in danger of being packed off to debtor’s prison? Why would a man who is on the brink of poverty sink his last few pennies into a speculation in a commodity such as opium? In my experience, no one invests in such ventures unless they have capital to spare – they are no more likely to be forced into the workhouse than you or I. This is indeed the cruellest aspect of this trade – that a few rich men, in order to grow richer, are willing to sacrifice millions of lives.’
Slade threw up his hands. ‘It is exactly as I suspected: Mr King’s heart bleeds for his Celestial friends, but he is utterly indifferent to the sufferings of his fellow merchants and their investors. And for what this readiness to plunge his fellow merchants into certain and immense loss of property? Why forsooth! Because Howqua has said at a private meeting at the Consoo Hall that his head would be taken off if we did not do his bidding. But Howqua, as we well know, is a consummate businessman, and he will say whatever is necessary to protect his own profits.’
Mr Wetmore broke in wearily: ‘I assure you, Mr Slade, Howqua believes with all his heart that his will be the first head to roll. It wrung my heart to see him at the Consoo House – I have never seen a more piteous picture.’
‘Oh please, Wetmore!’ snapped Mr Slade. ‘Spare us these Bulgarian vapours! You must remember that you are the President of this Chamber, and not some old biddy presiding over a congress of dowagers.’
‘Your language, Mr Slade, is unbecoming of a member of the Committee,’ said Mr Wetmore stiffly. ‘But I will let it pass because of the urgency of the matter at hand. But of this you should have no doubt – that Howqua, Mowqua and several other Hongists were indeed utterly struck down with fear when we saw them at the Consoo House.’
‘Howqua?’ Dent interrupted with a shrill, somewhat forced laugh. ‘But I saw Howqua this very morning, on Old China Street: that was what delayed me in coming to this meeting. He said that he and his colleagues of the Co-Hong had received certain threats from the Yum-chae, but these were just threats and no more than that. Howqua is an uncommonly shrewd man and I suspect he greatly exaggerated his fears for the benefit of Mr King and Mr Wetmore, knowing them to be, shall we say, somewhat softer in nature than most men. He would not of course attempt anything like that with me, or indeed most of us. When I ran into him a short while ago he appeared to be in perfectly good spirits – this Committee has my word on that.’