River of Smoke - Amitav Ghosh [202]
‘Hou leng. And where are you going to so fitee-fitee Compton?’
‘Jackass Point-mé. To rent sampan.’
‘Sampan? Why?’
‘Don’t you know a-ma? Yum-chae coming Guangzhou tomorrow.’
‘Who?’
‘High Commissioner Lin. All Guangzhou people are renting boats to watch. You want come too maah? Can come with us. Be Jackass Point tomorrow, first part of dragon-hour.’
‘Seven?’
‘Yes; come there. Dak mh dak aa?’
‘I don’t know: I may have to work.’
Compton laughed. ‘Oh don’t worry-wo. No one work tomorrow; not even tai-pan.’
Somewhat to Neel’s surprise Compton’s prognosis was proved correct: later that evening Vico announced that the entire staff was being given the morning off. The Seth would not be breakfasting in his daftar as usual; he had been invited to observe the Commissioner’s entry into the city from the veranda of the Consulate.
The next day it became clear very early that the city was in a mood of high expectation: drums and fireworks were heard in the distance, and at the morning hazri, in the mess, Mesto reported that the markets were deserted and not a shop was open on Thirteen Hong Street. Everyone, even the vendors and vagabonds, had rushed off to catch a glimpse of the Yum-chae.
By the time Neel stepped out on the Maidan, the verandas of the British and the Dutch Hongs were already abuzz with spectators. On reaching Jackass Point, he found it choked with people – it took him a good half-hour to locate Compton, who was herding a band of children along the ghat and into a waiting sampan.
Three of the boys were his sons, said Compton, and the rest were their friends. They had all evidently been warned against any wi-wi-woy-woy for they were on their best behaviour with Ah Neel: not one of them was heard to mutter the words ‘Achha’ or ‘Mo-ro-chaa’ or ‘Haak-gwai’. They kept their eyes shyly lowered as they said their chin-chins, scarcely glancing at Neel’s turban or angarkha. When the sampan began to move they were even heard to admonish children in other boats nearby, reproving them for staring or making rude comments.
…jouh me aa … ?
… mh gwaan neih sih!
Progress along the river was very slow because it was choked with boats; they inched along, gunwale to gunwale.
Neel was astonished by the size of the crowd. ‘Why, it’s like a festival day!’ ‘Does this always happen when a high official comes to the city?’
Compton laughed. ‘No! Is usually not like this at all – people go to hide. But Lin Zexu different – not like others …’
Commissioner Lin’s arrival had been preceded, Compton explained, by a steady flow of reports about his southwards journey. These accounts had created an extraordinary ferment in the province. The stories being told were such as to make people wonder whether the Yum-chae might not be the last of a breed of men that had long been thought to be extinct: an incorruptible public servant who was also a scholar and an intellectual – a state official like those memorialized in legend and parable.
While other mandarins travelled with enormous entourages, at public expense, the Yum-chae was travelling with a very small retinue – a half-dozen armed guards, a cook, and a couple of servants – all paid out of his own purse. While the retainers of other officials freely extorted money from all who wanted access to their bosses, Commissioner Lin’s men had been warned they would face arrest if they were found to be taking bribes. At inns and resthouses his orders were that he was only to be served common fare – expensive luxuries, like birds’ nests and sharks’ fins, were banned from his table. On the road, instead of fraternizing with other high officials the Yum-chae had sought out scholars and knowledgeable men, asking their advice on how to deal with the situation in the southern provinces.
‘My teacher also called to meet Yum-chae,’ said Compton proudly.
‘And who is he?’
‘His name Chang Nan-shan,’ said Compton, ‘but-gwo I call him “Chang Lou-si” because he is my teacher. Chang Lou-si know everything about Guangdong. He write