The 'Rose' subsequently foundered in a taiphoon,[45] on July 21, 1841, only one of her crew being saved, a Portuguese Sea-cunnie,[46] who was for three days on a plank. He was picked up by my old friend and shipmate, Captain Fraser, in the 'Good Success,' thirty miles from the Grand Ladrone.
This tedious review of the opium traffic, as existing during the first fifteen years of my residence at Canton, will give the reader a correct idea of the mode in which it was carried on. The confiscation of 20,052 chests by the Imperial Commissioner Lin, in 1839, checked the local trade for a time, but did not do away with it. Up to this period it had indeed been an easy and agreeable business for the foreign exile who shared in it at Canton. His sales were pleasantness and his remittances were peace. Transactions seemed to partake of the nature of the drug; they imparted a soothing frame of mind with three per cent. commission on sales, one per cent. on returns, and no bad debts! To the agent each chest was worth 20l. sterling, one year with another.
Consequent upon the seizure of the English-owned opium, the city of Canton, lying at the mercy of Sir Hugh Gough, was ransomed, as has been said, for $6,000,000, and this sum was afterwards appropriated by the British Government to indemnify its owners, who had delivered it up, either directly, or indirectly through their Canton agents, in obedience to the command of Captain Elliot, 'for surrender to the Imperial Commissioner on behalf of Her Majesty's Government.'
The amount of the ransom was much below the ordinary market value, even of its cost; on the other hand, no one could foresee to what a low price it might fall, through the measures which were being taken by the Pekin authorities to 'put an end for ever' to 'opium smoking' in their dominions, and the whole arrangement was, under the circumstances, a very reasonable one.
The largest quantity surrendered by any one house was 7,000 chests; we came, I think, third on the list, with 1,500 chests; the remainder was principally in the hands of English, Parsee, and other native of India firms. The appointment and approaching arrival of the Imperial Envoy became known at Canton in the latter months of 1838. The local Mandarins therefore began a system of harshness towards dealers in order to appear vigilant and active in the carrying out of old decrees. This led to much cruel punishment, to the execution of one man in the Square in front of the Factories, in December 1838 (by way of casting obloquy upon the foreigners), and an attempt to strangle another one there in February 1839. This latter caused an unprecedented riot, led to an attack upon all foreigners who happened to be out of their residences, several of them being injured, and to the Factories being besieged by many thousands of vagabonds, who kept up an incessant attack on windows and gates with stones and brickbats.
They tore down and used as 'battering rams' the heavy posts of which the small enclosures in front of each Factory were constructed, yelling and shrieking like so many wild animals. We were rather anxious that some should force their way in, as we had distributed broken bottles in great quantities up and down the main entrance to our own Factory, No. 2 Suy-Hong, our enemy being a barefooted crowd, while against the other great casks of coal had been rolled; we were not gratified by seeing the efficacy of the first protection. The mandarins had brought an 'opium dealer' to the Square about noon, in order to strangle[47] him there. The Cross was already driven in the ground, and in a few minutes it would have been all over, when an unusual hubbub of something extraordinary being about to take place attracted the attention of some foreigners who were on the Square at the time. Instantly the news flew from Factory to Factory, when all we could muster, perhaps seventy to eighty, rushed out to stop the proceeding. I acted as spokesman on behalf of all present, and protested against the Square being turned into an execution ground. The Mandarin in charge said that the orders he had received must be carried out, that the Square was a portion of His Celestial Majesty's Empire. He was told that might be, but it was leased to us as a recreation ground, and that we would not permit its desecration by a public execution! This was a bold thing to say. During this short interval the scene was a most extraordinary one. There was the cross, and close to it the victim with a chain about his neck, held by two gaolers, all looking on with a quiet curiosity. The servants of the mandarin were supplying him with constantly renewed pipes; his attendants, a few soldiers, and his chair-bearers, seemed more amused than anything else. There is no telling what might not have taken place had it not been for a boat's crew who happened to come from Whampoa that morning. They belonged to the old East India Company's ship 'Orwell,' Captain 'Tommy' Larkins, formerly of that Company's service, and a well-known and general favourite in the community. These sailors had been wandering about the Square, but gradually approached the spot and looked on. Seeing the drift things were taking, suddenly they seized the cross, smashed it in pieces, and began to lay them over the heads and shoulders of the executioners and any Chinamen within reach. The gaolers dragged the prisoner away. Jack tore down a tent that had been pitched for the mandarin, capsized the chairs, the table, with the teapot and cups, and would next have attacked the mandarin himself had we not interfered to protect him. We were much relieved when his Excellency and his aids were carried away and no harm done to them, and we found ourselves in possession of the ground. Then cried out one of the sailors to another, 'I say, Bill, we don't get such a lark as this every day!'
The siege of the Factories by the mob was continued throughout the afternoon, the guards at the corner of the American Factory were obliged to retreat after ineffectual efforts to clear the ground of our assailants, and things looked very serious. In the 'Imperial' Factory, Captain St. Croix, of the 'Alexander Baring,' had collected all the inmates, armed with such weapons as they had amongst them, revolvers and fowling-pieces, and proposed a rush out, but happily no demonstration was made. There were without doubt eight or ten thousand of the vilest of the population seemingly bent on the destruction of the 'foreign devils.' Towards five o'clock some one suggested that it might be worth while to get notice of our situation to Houqua. It looked as if the Mandarins had left us at the mercy of the mob, while the streets were completely blocked, and no Chinaman probably thought of going on such a mission. Mr. G. Nye (an American gentleman) and myself undertook to go and see him. Getting on the roof of No. 4 'Suy-Hong' we managed to cross to that of a shop in Hong Lane, through which we descended, and after some exertion reached the street in the rear of the Factories, called the 'Thirteen Factory Street,' which led to Houqua's Hong. We found the old gentleman in some trepidation from the news that had been already brought to him, but he seemed quite ignorant of the Square and the Factories being at the mercy of the crowd. He at once despatched a messenger to the 'Kwang-Chow-Foo,' the chief magistrate of the city, and we returned the way we had come. About half-past six o'clock, to our great relief we heard the approaching sound of the gong, denoting the coming of the officers, and witnessed from our verandah the immediate dispersion with whips of the rabble. No one was spared, the sight of the numerous soldiers in attendance on the Mandarins caused a rush towards every outlet from the Square, and even to the river, where several were drowned, not a boatman offering them the least assistance. Wide open flew the Factory gates, and in an instant their imprisoned occupants appeared with looks of relief indescribable. The Mandarins passed the night on the ground, chairs were procured for them, official lanterns were lighted, and, conscious of the entire safety which we now enjoyed, and without being disturbed by the hourly beating on gongs of the different watches of the night, we all turned in. The next day everything reassumed its normal state of comfort and safety. The 'victim' had been strangled at the public execution ground, to which he was taken from the Square. Approaching the Mandarins in the morning to thank them for their timely assistance (rather a 'cool' thing to do, as some one remarked, seeing we had taken the law in our own hands and had driven away the officer of justice the day before!), they received us very courteously, and assured us we had 'nothing to fear!'
This was the most serious of many provocations inflicted by foreigners upon the authorities. We treated their 'chops,' their prohibitions, warnings, and threats, as a rule, very cavalierly. We often spoke of their forbearance and wondered at the aid and protection they extended to us; in fact, they considered us more as unruly children, people who had never had an opportunity of becoming acquainted with 'Taou-Le,' or 'reason.'
When the Imperial Government took the unlooked-for measure of seizing the English-owned opium and punishing the native dealers, the day seemed to have arrived when the trade in it would really cease. The Canton houses had been forcibly deprived of their stocks; the supply on the East Coast, under the control of very few of them, was diminishing, with no fresh supplies to look forward to. Quantities which were on their way from India were being landed at Singapore or sent over to Manila, while further shipments from the former country were entirely suspended. On all sides a complete darkness existed as to what would be the result. Holders were offering to sell at Singapore for next to nothing; the article was in reality a drug indeed. Even as low as $150 to $200 per chest became its nominal value in the Straits. This was the condition of the 'opium question' which quickly followed the confiscation. The foreign community, with the exception of the Americans, had all left Canton, and at first took up their quarters on board of ships at 'Kow-Lung;' but having been bombarded out of that anchorage by the mandarins, 'Toon-Koo,' at the mouth of the 'Capshuymun,' became the general rendezvous. One day a clipper schooner got under way and stood seaward, and some time elapsed before she was heard from again. She had taken on board a few chests of opium that had arrived since the seizure. At the moment of sailing a letter was handed to the captain, directing him to open one of two others enclosed, after he should have got clear of the land. On doing so he found that he was ordered to make the best of his way to Singapore, to land the opium he had on board, and deliver the unopened letter to his consignee there, by whose instructions he would be subsequently governed. The schooner consequently proceeded on her voyage, the captain not having the slightest intimation of the object of it. Simply, he was directed to reply to any enquiries on arrival that he had brought down opium. The twenty chests were landed at a moment of the day when the Bund was crowded with Moormen, Jews, Parsees, and Chinese, all opium holders or brokers. No letters had of course been received by them, but at the unprecedented sight of twenty chests being landed they concluded that now indeed 'God was great and Mohammed was his prophet,' and that China had at last resolved to permit no more poisonous drug to be landed on its shores. Before twenty-four hours had passed, so adroitly had the agent made his plans, that, aided by clever brokers, he secured nearly 700 chests, quietly, here a little and there a little, at prices 'dirt cheap.' Opium had been unsalable at Singapore, many of the holders were unable to hold, and some were under orders to sell for whatever they could get, and 'have done with it;' the average of the purchase in question was $250 per chest. The twenty chests were re-shipped to the schooner, the newly purchased were taken on board, and after a very short detention she sailed, whither no one knew. She was bounding up the China Sea. Her destination was the East Coast, and there her cargo was readily disposed of at an average of $2,500 per chest.
Inside of the city of Canton, as we heard from Chinese, the price rose to $3,000, while the sale of it or the smoking of it was almost a matter of life and death—the latter was the penalty threatened and even carried out against those who were known to indulge in it. The Imperial Commissioner was on the spot; he was inexorable, consternation prevailed throughout the Chinese community, but we heard from good authority that the number of the beheaded was not large.