authorities believed that opium did to their people.
Even Macaulay advocated this
shameful imposition. China had
to
submit, and pay into the
bargain four and a half millions
sterling to prove themselves in the wrong. Part of this went
as prize money. My share of it - the DOUCEUR for a middy's
participation in the crime - was exactly 100L.
To return to Amoy. When off the mouth of the Canton river we
had taken on board an
interpreter named Thom. What our
instructions were I know not; I can only tell what happened.
Our entry into Amoy harbour caused an immediate
commotion on
land. As soon as we dropped
anchor, about half a mile from
the shore, a number of troops, with eight or ten field-
pieces, took up their position on the beach, evidently
resolved to prevent our
landing. We hoisted a flag of truce,
at the same time cleared the decks for action, and dropped a
kedge astern so as to moor the ship broadside to the forts
and invested shore. The officer of my watch, the late Sir
Frederick Nicholson, together with the
interpreter, were
ordered to land and
communicate with the chief mandarin. To
carry out this as inoffensively as possible, Nicholson took
the jolly-boat, manned by four lads only. As it was my
watch, I had
charge of the boat. A
napkin or towel served
for a flag of truce. But long before we reached the shore,
several mandarins came down to the water's edge waving their
swords and shouting
angrily to warn us off. Mr. Thom, who
understood what they said, was frightened out of his wits,
assuring us we should all be sawed in half if we attempted to
land. Sir Frederick was not the man to
disobey orders even
on such a
penalty; he, however, took the
precaution - a very
wise one as it happened - to
reverse the boat, and back her
in stern foremost.
No sooner did the keel grate on the
shingle than a score of
soldiers rushed down to seize us. Before they could do so we
had shoved off. The shore was very steep. In a moment we
were in deep water, and our lads pulling for dear life. Then
came a storm of
bullets from matchlocks and jingals and the
bigger guns,
fortunately just too high to hit us. One
bulletonly struck the back-board, but did no harm. What, however,
seemed a greater danger was the fire from the ship. Ere we
were halfway back broadside after broadside was fired over
our heads into the poor devils massed along the beach. This
was kept up until not a living Chinaman was to be seen.
I may mention here a curious
instance of
cowardice. One of
our men, a ship's
painter, soon after the firing began and
was returned by the fort's guns, which in truth were quite
harmless, jumped
overboard and drowned himself. I have seen
men's courage tried under fire, and in many other ways since;
yet I have never known but one case similar to this, when a
friend of my own, a rich and
prosperous man, shot himself to
avoid death! So that there are men like 'Monsieur
Grenouille, qui se cachait dans l'eau pour eviter la pluie.'
Often have I seen timid and
nervous men, who were thought to
be cowards, get so excited in action that their timidity has
turned to rashness. In truth 'on est souvent ferme par
faiblesse, et audacieux par timidite.'
Partly for this reason, and
partly because I look upon it as
a
remnant of our predatory antecedents and of animal
pugnacity, I have no
extravagantadmiration for mere
combativeness or
physical courage. Honoured and rewarded as
one of the noblest of manly attributes, it is one of the
commonest of qualities, - one which there is not a
mammal, a
bird, a fish, or an
insect even, that does not share with us.
Such is the
esteem in which it is held, such the ignominy
which punishes the want of it, that the most
cautious and the
most timid by nature will rather face the
uncertain risks of
a fight than the certain infamy of imputed
cowardice.
Is it likely that courage should be rare under such
circumstances, especially
amongstprofessional fighters, who
in England at least have chosen their trade? That there are
poltroons, and plenty of them,
amongst our soldiers and