THE first time I 'smelt powder' was at Amoy. The 'Blonde' carried out Lord Palmerston's letter to the Chinese Government. Never was there a more iniquitous war than England then provoked with China to force upon her the opium trade with India in spite of the harm which the Chinese 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 bullet only 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 extravagant admiration 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 amongst professional fighters, who in England at least have chosen their trade? That there are poltroons, and plenty of them, amongst our soldiers and sailors, I do not dispute. But with the fear of shame on one hand, the hope of reward on the other, the merest dastard will fight like a wild beast, when his blood is up. The extraordinary merit of his conduct is not so obvious to the peaceful thinker. I speak not of such heroism as that of the Japanese, - their deeds will henceforth be bracketed with those of Leonidas and his three hundred, who died for a like cause. With the Japanese, as it was with the Spartans, every man is a patriot; nor is the proportionate force of their barbaric invaders altogether dissimilar.
Is then the Victoria Cross an error? To say so would be an outrage in this age of militari**. And what would all the Queens of Beauty think, from Sir Wilfred Ivanhoe's days to ours, if mighty warriors ceased to poke each other in the ribs, and send one another's souls untimely to the 'viewless shades,' for the sake of their 'doux yeux?' Ah! who knows how many a mutilation, how many a life, has been the price of that requital? Ye gentle creatures who swoon at the sight of blood, is it not the hero who lets most of it that finds most favour in your eyes? Possibly it may be to the heroes of moral courage that some distant age will award its choicest decorations. As it is, the courage that seeks the rewards of Fame seems to me about on a par with the virtue that invests in Heaven.
Though an anachronism as regards this stage of my career, I cannot resist a little episode which pleasantly illustrates moral courage, or chivalry at least, combined with physical bravery.
