China by Edward Rutherfurd (historical books to read TXT) 📕

The carnage was terrible. He saw men cut in half. There were probably thirty men down, writhing in agony on the deck. The lucky ones were already dead.

He caught sight of Mr. Singapore. The interpreter was tottering by the edge of the deck, one hand gripping the rigging. The other arm had been almost completely torn off and dangled loosely from his shoulder, which was spouting blood. He stared openmouthed towards Shi-Rong with a look of strange sadness before he fell over the side of the ship into the sea.

Admiral Guan was still standing by the big mast, immovable as a statue.

And then Shi-Rong felt ashamed. He hadn’t meant to throw himself down on the deck. It had happened without his even thinking. A survival instinct. But the admiral had not moved at all, and he was surveying the awful scene now with a stoic face.

Had the admiral seen him? Did he think him a coward? Had he disgraced himself, his family, shamed his father? Better he should have died than that. In agony of mind, he struggled up and found the admiral watching him calmly.

“I am sorry, Lord…” he began, but Guan cut him short.

“Are you wounded?”

“No, Lord.”

“Good. Stand by me.”

—

And that was all the admiral said to him. As the two British ships continued up the line, their tactics remained the same, and there was nothing the Chinese crews could do about it. All hope of closing and grappling was gone. The British frigate was not a fortress full of men, but a floating gun battery; and the British Navy gunners were the best in the business. After the shock of seeing the huge explosion so early on, the men on the war junks realized that they were sitting targets. They loosed their arrows and fired their few guns, but always high at the rigging, for that was how they had been trained. And if many dived into the water to save their lives, it was hard to blame them.

But then, having reached the end of the line, the Volage and the Hyacinth came about and gave the gunners on the other side of their vessels some action. The Hyacinth, being smaller and nimbler, weaved her way up the line again, blasting the Chinese ships at point-blank range and sinking several of them.

Twice more the admiral’s flagship came under fire, once with cannon at the waterline, once with grapeshot to the deck. Each time Shi-Rong gritted his teeth, braced himself, and, though all color drained from his face, stood fast beside the admiral. At least, he reasoned, if I am to die, they can tell my father that I died standing firm, beside Admiral Guan himself. And his only fear was that the admiral might also be killed, and no witnesses survive to tell the tale.

At the end of this second run, the British ships did not return, but sailed away down the gulf towards Macao, while the admiral, his flagship almost foundering, led his remaining vessels back to their former anchorage.

By late afternoon Shi-Rong, bearing a note from the admiral, was being conveyed by Nio and his oarsmen upriver to Commissioner Lin.

—

“The question is,” Lin said to him that night as he sat at his writing table, “what exactly can I say to the emperor?” He gave Shi-Rong a cautious glance. “The report from the admiral is very brief, but he says that you will be able to give me a full and accurate account.”

“Yes, Excellency,” said Shi-Rong, “I can.”

It took him some time to recount all that he saw. And if he was careful to select the most promising information, he said nothing that was not true.

“So, to summarize,” Lin said, going through the list at the end, “Elliot refused yet again to sign the bond. Not only that, but he shot across the bow of a British ship that was coming, in a proper and lawful manner, to sign the bond and proceed to Whampoa.”

“Thus proving that he is a pirate.”

“Indeed. The admiral did not attack the pirates unprovoked. They attacked him. Their gun ships are formidable—this must be admitted—and they damaged some of our war junks. One junk was blown up.”

“A lucky shot from the pirates, Excellency. They happened to hit a magazine. It was a huge explosion, but the admiral and his men did not flinch and continued to fire.”

“We may say that throughout the engagement our men fought bravely, and that the admiral conducted himself with the utmost skill and coolness.”

“There is no question, Excellency. I saw it all. I was at his side.”

“Not only this, but our ships fired back with success, and even knocked the figurehead off one of the pirate vessels.”

“Correct.” Shi-Rong longed to say that it was he himself who accomplished this, but calculated that it would be even better if, in due course, Commissioner Lin were to learn it from the admiral himself.

“After this, the barbarians retreated down the gulf.”

“They did, Excellency. They seemed to be heading first for Macao.”

“I think that will do.” Lin looked up at him approvingly. “By the way, the admiral says that you were most helpful to him, and that you are to be commended.”

“I thank him, Excellency.” Shi-Rong bowed deeply. Might this mean that his name would go in the report to the emperor himself? Perhaps. But he knew he mustn’t ask.

“I think this means war.” Lin frowned. “The barbarian ships are fearsome.”

“They fight in a different way, Excellency. They rely on their guns, and they carry many more of them.”

Lin was silent for a few moments. “Well,” he said finally, “they’ll never get past the forts.”

Shi-Rong slept well that night. Whatever the terrors of the day and the weakness of the Chinese navy they had exposed, he had survived. And it surely had been good for his career.

The next morning, Lin told him to take a message across to the admiral. So he went to summon Nio to bring him a boat. But he couldn’t find the young