The Empire Trilogy - J. G. Farrell [412]
In his mind’s eye Walter saw a splendid procession of dragons, effigies and floats representing the commercial successes of Blackett and Webb winding through Chinatown to the thump of brass bands and the crackle of fireworks, then up the hill after dark carrying flaring torches to file past Government House where Sir Shenton Thomas would take the salute from the verandah. A Roman triumph indeed! And yet it had to be admitted that so far the response of those Europeans he had approached to take part in a democratic ‘parade of all nations’ had not been encouraging. Not that Walter would have expected them to leap at the opportunity … but given the fact that there was a war on, in Europe if not out here, one might have expected a little more support. Walter paused for a moment, having explained this to the Major, in order to give him time to volunteer either for the organizing committee or for the parade itself. But the Major, though he looked oppressed, contented himself with clearing his throat and mutely fingering his moustache.
‘Of course, the presence of Europeans in the parade isn’t absolutely necessary. We could probably make do with Eurasians, perhaps with chalk on their faces in a pinch. After all, such a parade deals in symbols, not in the real thing. We do need Europeans to help in the organization, though.’ Again Walter paused and again the Major fingered his moustache and hung back.
‘Absolutely indispensable,’ declared Walter vigorously, sensing that the Major was weakening.
‘Well, I suppose …’ the Major began reluctantly. But at this moment he was saved by a Eurasian newspaper reporter in an ill-fitting white suit who presented himself to interview Walter about his firm. Notebook and pencil in hand the reporter, who was from the Straits Times, fell into step with the two men as they paced up and down. Walter, abandoning for the moment his pursuit of the Major, began discoursing fluently on the early days of the company.
When Walter had assumed full command of Blackett and Webb in 1930 he had been faced with grave difficulties, given the Depression. He himself believed that it was precisely the catastrophic decline in business activity which had given him the opportunity to display his ability.
‘When trade is booming,’ he explained, more to the Major than to the reporter, ‘anyone can make money for the simple reason that most things you do turn out to be right. It takes a depression to show you what’s wrong with your business.’
‘Chairman overcomes early snags,’ wrote the young man from the Straits Times in his notebook without breaking his stride.
Because of the haphazard way in which Blackett and Webb had grown up the complexity of the business which Walter had to prevent from foundering was such as to numb the mind of an ordinary mortal. But Walter made light of it, insisting that his partner’s early exploits should be regarded as the firm’s golden age. When old Mr Webb had started out in business in 1890 it had been simply as a merchant in tropical produce. Rice, tea, copra, spices, pineapples, even opium had passed through his hands in those early days. And human beings, too, of course, for like everyone else he had shipped coolies from South China to Malaya and Java, usually as deck cargo. But his principal concern had been with the rice trade in Burma. There, thanks to an agreement with the other Rangoon merchants to keep down the prices paid to