Chapter 28: The Slave Trade
“Hmm.” Li Luoyou thought to himself that the imperial court probably lacked the ability. Regardless of how sharp the Australians’ firearms were, given their fortifications at Bopu and the fast ships in the strait, the court would need to mobilize tens of thousands of troops and one or two hundred warships just to get the Australians to spare them a glance.
“There’s no need to worry about that. The Australians have strong ships and powerful cannons; moving against them won’t be easy,” Li Luoyou said, intentionally not lowering his voice, to gauge his nephew’s reaction. Seeing no fear in him, he felt even more certain about his plan.
“Even if there’s any trouble, Baocheng, you can abandon the shop and leave immediately. I will never blame you. As long as the green hills remain, there’s no fear of running out of firewood. There’s no shame in that.”
“Yes, nephew will remember Master’s teachings.”
The three of them discussed further who to send to Lingao to assist, how to run the business of this branch, what goods to prepare, how to escape if trouble arose, and how Guangdong would provide support. They settled all the details before retiring for the night.
While Li’s household was in discussion, Quark was quietly invited to Liu San’s office in Runshitang.
Led by a servant carrying a lantern, he passed through dark service alleys and deserted corridors. After a series of dizzying twists and turns, he was brought to a brightly lit courtyard. Liu San, who had just been negotiating with him, was waiting in front of the room.
Quark was welcomed into a side room and was immediately astonished. How was the light in here so bright? In the courtyard where Li Luoyou was staying, the Yang family had provided their utmost, with more than four candlesticks in the room, but even when all were lit, the light was still dim. This room, however, was as bright as if dozens of candles were lit.
The source of the light was a lamp on the desk. Under a glass cover, a small flame danced, illuminating the entire room brightly.
The room was simply furnished with a Chinese-style desk and a few beautiful rattan chairs. Besides Liu San, there was another young man in the room whom he had never seen before. He was of medium build, slightly plump, with an ordinary face and a scholarly look. He wore a frame on his face with two pieces of glass set in it. Quark knew these were eyeglasses, but it was the first time he had seen them worn directly on the face, and he couldn’t help but look a few more times with curiosity.
This person sat in a chair, silent, merely looking him up and down.
“Mr. Quark, please have a seat,” Liu San said with a smile. “We have another business deal to discuss. I’m sure you’ll be very interested.”
“Very well,” Quark thought. A deal discussed with him alone was clearly not going to be something ordinary.
Liu San got up, closed the door, and drew the curtains tightly. Seeing Liu San’s cautiousness, Quark grew uneasy, not knowing what was about to happen.
“Mr. Quark, for us to sit down and talk business with peace of mind, we must be careful,” the young man in the rattan chair with glasses suddenly spoke, and in English.
Quark was startled. In this era, English was neither the language of academia nor the language of the nobility; it was just one of the many languages in Europe. Few people outside of England could speak it.
His greatest pain in coming to the Great Ming was the near-total absence of English speakers, forcing him to learn Chinese himself. Although he had learned some Chinese, there was still a barrier, and he sometimes found it difficult to express his meaning. Now, hearing someone speak English, he felt a great sense of relief.
The difference between Early Modern English and modern British English was still significant, but the two could at least communicate without obstruction.
The English speaker was Xu Tianqi, a university student majoring in languages, fluent in English and German. After D-Day, his skills were of little use, and he had been relegated to the general labor pool. It wasn’t until Ma Qianzhu wanted to create a mechanical card data management system that he was temporarily transferred to the Great Library to translate technical documents. After the translation was done, he became a general laborer again.
After the Second Plenary Session, the masses of general laborers excitedly declared, “Our spring has finally come.” Xu Tianqi was formally transferred to the Foreign Affairs Department. There wasn’t much to do in the department; the main work was still translating technical documents. This time, he finally had a formal job.
“Mr. Quark, have you ever traded in slaves?”
Quark shook his head. “That’s a very dangerous business!”
Slave trading was a business of immense profit. A shipload of slaves could still yield a profit of several hundred percent even if half of them died on the way. But the risks were enormous. Ships had to wait at African slave trading posts for inland slave traders to deliver their cargo, during which time many would contract terrible fevers and die. The profits were so high that pirates and rivals were everywhere; attacks on slave ships and trading posts were frequent. If captured by the Spanish on the way to South America, everyone from the captain to the sailors could be hanged, or handed over to the Inquisition. Even if one renounced their faith and converted to Catholicism, they would have to endure years of slave-like hard labor for a chance at freedom.
Those who dared to engage in this trade were the boldest, most ruthless, and most unscrupulous people. Even at his most desperate, Quark had never considered this line of business.
“Now there is an opportunity—” Liu San, through Xu Tianqi, explained the business of transporting Southeast Asian natives to Sanya. “…We will pay for the natives you transport to Sanya with sugar, tea, or raw silk.”
Quark hesitated before saying, “I understand you need slaves. But why these natives? They are small, lazy, and very fierce. They are not good material for work.”
“Are there slaves who aren’t lazy and fierce?” Xu Tianqi said.
Quark nodded. “Alright. But capturing and transporting them will be somewhat difficult.”
“That will be calculated into your costs,” Liu San said. “I believe that British merchants are vexed by their inability to find a suitable trading port with China.”
British merchants had no foothold in the South China Sea and had to operate in Dutch territory. The Dutch wanted a monopoly on trade with China, first causing friction in Banten, then killing eight Englishmen in Ambon. The British held a grudge, constantly crying “Ambon Massacre,” wanting to use this righteous pretext to retaliate fiercely against the Dutch, but their strength in East Asia was insignificant, no match for the Dutch. As for the Portuguese and Spanish, they were deeply entrenched in East and Southeast Asia, and even the Dutch couldn’t dislodge them, let alone the British.
“You mean—”
“Please look.” Liu San opened a map of the South China Sea.
“Did you draw this map?” Quark was greatly surprised. The map was exquisitely drawn. Not only was it beautiful, but it also depicted many coastlines that had never been surveyed before and were purely speculative.
“That’s right,” Liu San said. Maps were a top-level controlled item, and he didn’t want to dwell on this issue. “This is Qiongzhou Prefecture.” He pointed to Hainan Island.
“We are here.” He pointed to the location of Lingao County.
“Are you planning to open this place as a free trade port?” Quark asked.
“No, not here. Lingao is still lacking as a trading port,” Liu San said. “To be precise, it’s here.” He pointed to the southern tip of Hainan Island.
“There’s nothing there,” Quark said.
“No, we have a port there,” Liu San said. “You just need to transport the slaves there, and we will pay you with the best white sugar and rock sugar, as well as raw silk.”
“You have a port there?!” Quark exclaimed dramatically. Although he didn’t know the name of the place, from its geographical location, it was on the direct route from mainland China to Southeast Asia, a very strategic position. Compared to Formosa, which the Dutch occupied, this place was closer to the Chinese mainland. It would be very convenient for British merchant ships to dock here.
If a trading post were established in this place… gold coins began to dance before Quark’s eyes again.
“I want to see it for myself. As for the slaves…” Quark was still hesitant. While slave trading was immensely profitable, it was quite difficult to get started. Unlike the African slave trade, which already had an established supply chain, there was no such thing in Southeast Asia. If Quark wanted to do it, he would have to build a chain himself.
Following the African model, he would have to bribe a few local chieftains to capture slaves, exchange goods for captives, and establish a trading post to store the slaves. This trading post would need considerable defensive capabilities to avoid attacks from envious competitors or local chieftains who might stab him in the back at any moment.
This was a huge expense. Quark calculated the approximate costs and finally shook his head.
“I can’t do this business. The initial investment is more than I can bear.” To show he wasn’t lying, he listed all the necessary investments for Liu San.
“I need to build or buy ships, and I need to hire enough men to handle various affairs. The trading post needs to be fortified, so I have to buy cannons and weapons to equip a small garrison. I also have to give expensive gifts to the local chieftains, otherwise they won’t bother capturing slaves for me, let alone give me a place to build a trading post.”
“We will issue you a patent certificate for the slave trade,” the Commerce and Foreign Affairs departments had already considered this. “It will grant you a five-year monopoly on the slave trade to Sanya.”
A patent certificate! Quark’s eyes lit up. With this certificate, he could organize a joint-stock company, raise shares, and bring in more merchants to participate in this business. The financial problems would be solved.
“How about it? With this, you can go and form a joint-stock company,” Liu San said, as if he knew what he was thinking.
“Yes, with such a patent, the funding problem will be much easier to solve.” Quark was no longer interested in Li Luoyou’s cannon factory—what could be faster at making money than the slave trade!
“But this will take a considerable amount of time,” Quark said. “I need to go to Surat to raise shares, buy ships, and recruit men. The earliest I can deliver the first batch of slaves is the end of this year.”
The end of the year would be just when the basic infrastructure at Tiandu was completed and mining was about to begin. The arrival of the first batch of slaves would be perfect timing.
“That’s acceptable, but you must hurry. If you cannot deliver the first batch of slaves by the end of December this year, the patent will be void.”
Seeing the money right in front of him but having to wait for more than half a year, Quark was burning with impatience. He immediately agreed, “Alright, I promise I will deliver them.”
“This patent only covers Southeast Asian natives. You are not allowed to transport any other slaves here, unless we request it,” Liu San warned. “If we find you smuggling other people even once, the patent will be void.”
“I demand to establish a trading post in this… San… Ya,” Quark then made his request.
“You may. Since this is a trade port, merchants are welcome, as long as you abide by our laws.”
At the same time that night, a State Council meeting was held in Bairen City to discuss whether to sell arms to Li Luoyou.
Most people were against selling arms. The danger of selling high-quality weapons to a potential enemy was self-evident. If the Ming came to attack, the transmigrators did not want to taste their own 12-pound Napoleon cannonballs. If Li Luoyou resold them to Liaodong, the consequences would be even more severe—a serious disruption of the continental balance. Historically, the Guanning Army was a transport brigade, losing many firearms to the Later Jin. Furthermore, the Dengzhou Mutiny, which would happen in a few years, would cause a large number of firearms, soldiers who used them, and technicians to fall into the hands of the Manchus, allowing the Later Jin to start producing their own Hongyi cannons. If Li Luoyou resold them, the firearms advantage would shift to the Later Jin even earlier. The Ming’s reliance on firearms for defense might just collapse as a result.
A minority believed they could produce inferior cannons, with performance slightly better than the Hongyi cannons, and also sell better-quality matchlocks in bulk. They proposed setting up a dedicated workshop to supply weapons to the Ming.
“Comrades, making weapons requires metal. Our iron and copper still rely on imports and are strategic materials. How much pig iron or bronze does one cannon use? Has anyone calculated? Guangzhou Station works hard to buy it, and we make it into cannons to sell—this practice is too strange! We don’t need this money,” Ma Qianzhu said. “Moreover, producing cannons and muskets also consumes energy, whether it’s electricity or coal, neither of which is abundant yet.”
“What about processing with supplied materials? For one cannon, Li Luoyou provides a certain amount of copper, iron, and coal, and an excess amount at that…”
“It’s not very meaningful,” Zhan Wuya said. “Don’t forget that making cannons also consumes workers’ man-hours and machine wear and tear. These are all costs.”
Thus, the matter of exporting weapons was rejected. Someone suggested exporting the Lingao-produced Type 30 revolver. This gun consumed very little metal and man-hours, and neither the Ming nor the Later Jin could produce the ammunition. To use it, they would have to buy ammunition from Lingao, making it easy to control them through the supply.
“Besides, revolvers can’t be used for pitched battles. To the natives, they are just curious toys. It would surely be popular for generals and civil officials to have one for self-defense.”
“That’s a possibility, but they might not want it. You know it’s a curious toy; Li Luoyou isn’t stupid and naturally knows it’s not of great use. He wouldn’t buy many.”
“Also, I’m very afraid that one day, while a certain council member is watching a play, a Jinyiwei agent will sneak up from behind and put a .30 caliber round in his head,” said Wu Mu, who was attending the meeting as a representative of the Political Security General Bureau to assess the political security of selling arms.
The final decision was not to sell arms. However, Wu De suggested that they could consider helping Li Luoyou establish a cannon factory.
“Not selling cannons, but selling a cannon factory?” Cheng Dong couldn’t understand. “I feel like this is putting the cart before the horse.”
“Strictly speaking, we’d be selling some simple equipment and appropriately disseminating technology,” Wu De’s suggestion was to use Li Luoyou’s desire to open a cannon factory to sell him simple industrial processing equipment.
“For example, boring and smoothing the cannon bore. This is absent in traditional Chinese cannon-making technology. If we sell a few specialized cannon boring machines, we can significantly improve their ability to imitate Hongyi cannons. The power will increase, but the increase will be limited and won’t affect our own security or have a major impact on the continental balance.”
Besides cannon boring machines, he also suggested providing iron mold casting technology. This technology could increase the yield of finished cannons, making the cannon bodies more durable and increasing production efficiency.
“Iron mold casting is not an advanced technology in the field of cannon production. We ourselves will mainly use the Rodman gun process and the integral casting deep-drilling method for our future cannon production. Giving iron mold casting technology to Li Luoyou will not affect our technological advantage at all.”
In addition, there were bellows, which could also increase production efficiency.
“What about power? Are we going to provide steam engines as well?”
“For now, we can supply water turbines or windmills,” Wu De said. “Of course, we’ll need to provide gearboxes, otherwise neither of them can be used.”
“What benefits do we get from selling this equipment?” Ma Qianzhu didn’t quite understand. “Selling cannons and arms consumes resources, but selling machinery and equipment also consumes resources, right?”
“We could sell services. Given the quality of our manufactured parts, Li Luoyou would probably go mad when he sees the maintenance and repair bills,” Zhan Wuya said.
“We can’t just think about making money. As for consuming resources, we should look at it this way: selling cannons to Chongzhen is a net consumption; selling machines is a form of blood transfusion,” Wu De said. “We can’t rely on producing everything ourselves forever, right? That’s not economical. Sooner or later, we have to open up some production areas to the private sector. Since we’re opening them up, we certainly don’t want them to continue using traditional manual methods. Otherwise, our equipment manufacturing industry will never develop—it will lack sufficient orders.”
Anyone who had seen the transmigrators’ factories was impressed by the efficiency of industrial production. Yang Shixiang was already eager to mechanize his pharmacy, but Lingao’s local economic strength was too weak. There were very few people with the capital to invest in industry. Industry also required a large population. With the labor force already tight, adding the demand from private industry would make the population bottleneck even more prominent.
If the nearby Pearl River Delta, with its vast capital and population, could also join this industrialization process, Lingao’s equipment manufacturing industry could develop significantly. Moreover, it would create a dependency on Lingao’s industry. The supply, maintenance, and upgrading of machinery and equipment would all have to rely on Lingao’s industry.