Chapter 183: The Furious Portuguese

With the Municipal Council and the Portuguese merchant groups sharply divided, the negotiations had stalled. Macau had no formal naval detachment; most of the armed vessels in the harbor were merchant ships. Except for a few light vessels belonging to the Municipal Council and the Governor of Macau, nearly all were privately or collectively owned. The interests involved were too numerous, and the details to be decided were even more so: shipowners were unwilling to serve the Municipal Council for free, and even if they were, the compensation for casualties, ship repairs, and ammunition expenditure had to be clearly defined.

The Jesuit Society, whose opinion held significant weight in the final decision, had yet to express its view. However, everyone knew they favored the Australians, who had provided immense help to their missionary work in China, achieving what could be called a breakthrough.

With the Jesuits’ ambiguous stance and the Municipal Council and Chamber of Commerce engaged in daily, inefficient, long-winded debates, Li Luoyou waited anxiously. Though they were called negotiations, there was little to negotiate. Most of his time was spent waiting for the Portuguese to conclude their own internal meetings.

His access to information, however, was better in Macau. News of the Australians’ military patrols along the Pearl River constantly arrived. Li Luoyou understood clearly: the Australians were conducting continuous small-scale military operations but avoiding a direct attack on Guangzhou’s gateway, Wuyong. They were pressuring the Guangdong officials to negotiate peace as soon as possible—using war to force peace.

Synthesizing the various pieces of information he gathered in Macau, Li Luoyou became more certain of his assessment. He learned that over a month ago, some Australians had come to Macau to try and establish contact with the Guangdong authorities. These Australians were still in Macau, seemingly waiting for something.

They must have conveyed their request for peace talks to Guangzhou or Zhaoqing through some channel, but the local Guangdong authorities had not responded. That was why they had launched their campaign into the Pearl River’s inner waterways.

Li Luoyou couldn’t help but wring his hands in frustration. If only the local high officials had reacted in time and secretly sent someone to negotiate, this matter might have been settled without escalating to this point.

Once the Australians had drawn their swords, they would not sheathe them empty-handed. By the time a peace agreement was reached, who knew how many more orphans and widows, how many lonely souls, and how much property would be consumed by fire.

He decided to find an opportunity to secretly meet with the Australian representatives to hear their specific conditions and thoughts. This way, once negotiations began, a great deal of time could be saved.

In his usual tone, Geronimo said softly, “My child, do not be anxious. Speak slowly.”

“Yes, Your Excellency.” Lando peeked at the President from the corner of his eye. The man’s composure was feigned; his hand had been trembling just moments ago. Lando felt confident.

“Your Excellency, I have obtained some astonishing news in Lingao,” Lando said, feigning great urgency. “The Chinese court will soon revoke the trading rights of the merchants here to enter Guangzhou. They will also blockade the entire Pearl River estuary, forbidding foreign merchant ships from entering or leaving. They even plan to stop the local Chinese merchants from supplying Macau with grain, vegetables, and meat.”

Geronimo had long heard rumors of a trade ban. Such rumors had been circulating in Macau for several months. At first, they were vague, like “I hear they’re going to ban trade.” The President, of course, paid no heed to such baseless talk. But the rumors had slowly become more concrete, with more and more details, until recently he had learned that the one advocating the ban was Guangdong’s highest judicial official.

Now, Lando not only repeated the rumor but also stated its specific contents. It seemed more than eighty percent true and could no longer be dismissed as baseless.

“My child, is your information reliable? There are at least thirty or forty such rumors in the city every day.”

“Your Excellency, it is absolutely reliable,” Lando said with a bow. “I have already reported to the two priests, and they both believe it necessary for me to report to you personally. Here is their letter.” He presented a letter written by Ruggieri, which not only confirmed Lando’s words but also specifically stated that the source of the information was a “high-ranking and influential” Catholic elder among the Australians. This person had expressed great concern for the safety of Macau, this “beacon of the Church in the Far East,” and hoped the Portuguese in Macau would prepare in advance.

Lando said the Australians had not only learned the specific details but also possessed direct evidence.

Seeing the letter, Geronimo frowned. Was this an attempt to sow discord? The Australians probably knew that the Guangdong government was trying to seek their help. If the Portuguese sided with the Ming, it would be very detrimental to the Australians’ military operations in the Pearl River. Perhaps that was why they had leaked the information to the missionaries in Lingao.

He pondered. If the news was proven true, there was no way the Portuguese would help the Guangdong government. The purpose of helping the Chinese maintain security on the Pearl River was to protect trade, not to protect the people of the Ming. If trade was cut off by the Chinese government, then the lives of the Chinese people and the security and navigability of the Pearl River would have nothing to do with the Portuguese.

The fact that the Australians had so casually revealed this information to the Jesuits meant they had enough evidence to prove it, so much so that they didn’t need to beat around the bush to establish their credibility.

Geronimo felt sweat begin to form on his back. If Guangdong’s highest judicial official really did petition the Chinese emperor to cut off trade, Macau’s future would be in grave danger. Not to mention whether the Chinese would use various means to force the Portuguese to leave Macau, if this city, built on circulation and sea transport, lost its main, and practically only, trading partner, what future would it have?

Geronimo thought of the commercial cities he had visited in Italy and the Netherlands that had declined due to changes in geography. Once-thriving streets were overgrown with weeds tall enough to feed horses, the population had dwindled to a tenth of its former size, and beautiful merchant houses and mansions stood empty, boarded up, presenting a desolate and bleak scene.

If such a thing happened to Macau, he couldn’t imagine how it could survive. It was just a small island on a cape, unable to even sustain itself. Once trade was cut off, the city would immediately fall into decline and ruin.

The Jesuit Society would have to abandon its best missionary base at the gateway to Southern China and move to the distant, Spanish-controlled Philippines.

The thought sent a shiver down his spine. He hated the Spanish—and openly so. He could only imagine the treatment he would receive in Manila.

“My child, do you have any other evidence? A single piece of news like this will not satisfy the gentlemen.”

“The Australian who revealed this to me said that if Your Excellencies are interested, they will provide all the evidence to prove it.”

“I understand. You may go and rest,” Geronimo said with a nod.

After Lando left, Geronimo immediately ordered Li Luoyou to be brought to his residence.

“Jacob,” Geronimo called him by his Christian name, getting straight to the point. “I have heard from a well-informed source that the judicial commissioner of Guangdong has submitted a memorial to the court, requesting a complete ban on trade with Macau. Do you know if this is true?”

“I am not sure, Your Excellency.” Li Luoyou, startled by the sudden summons, tried to maintain his composure as he heard the question he most dreaded. “You know, this rumor has been circulating for a long time. I am not an official, so I cannot judge its authenticity.”

“And what about your insight and logic?” Geronimo pressed.

“This…” Li Luoyou hesitated. He felt that saying either “possible” or “impossible” would be hard to justify later. Geronimo’s sudden summons clearly indicated he had important information. He decided not to hide it any longer.

“In my opinion, it is highly likely to be true,” Li Luoyou said with a heavy nod. “Censor Gao has always been dissatisfied with the Portuguese and the Holy Church. It’s just that until now, it has only been rumors, with no concrete news.”

“The Australians say they have sufficient evidence,” Geronimo said, looking him in the eye. “Do you think they do?”

Li Luoyou was speechless. He realized his mission was likely to fail. He thought for a moment. “Your Excellency, I would like to draw your attention to the fact that even if this is true, and Censor Gao did indeed write this memorial, it does not mean it will become an imperial decree. After this memorial is sent to the capital, it must not only receive the Emperor’s sanction but also be discussed by the Grand Secretariat and the Six Ministries. If any one of these bodies disagrees, Censor Gao’s memorial will remain just that—a memorial. It cannot be considered a law. It is equivalent to a ‘petition’.”

Li Luoyou deliberately used the weakest possible European term.

Geronimo knew he was right. He pondered for a moment. “You know, I have great respect for you…”

“Thank you, Your Excellency.”

“…but I don’t quite trust the words of Chinese officials. Before this, several elders of the Municipal Council had inquired about this matter with various powerful Chinese officials in Guangzhou and Xiangshan, and they all flatly denied it. Now it seems they were likely lying.”

Li Luoyou didn’t know what to say. He knew it must have been an order from above, most likely from Li Fengjie himself.

“…If this is true, I can only advise the Municipal Council not to provide any form of assistance to the Guangdong government. I believe that if you were in our position, you would not agree to help either,” Geronimo said. “If the merchants cannot trade, what does the security of the Pearl River have to do with the Municipal Council?”

Li Luoyou replied painfully, “Yes, I completely understand your meaning.”

“…Unless the Guangdong government can provide a definite clarification on the future of Macau,” he continued, “including guarantees for trade.”

Li Luoyou knew that without a definite guarantee, the talks for borrowing troops would yield no results. It was clear the Australians had sabotaged it from within, though he didn’t know what they had used to convince the famously suspicious Jesuits. He sat in his residence, deep in thought. Given that the officials had offered no concrete solutions and had simply played dumb, it was no wonder the Jesuits trusted the Australians instead.

A few days later, the Macau Municipal Council was in an uproar. A set of carefully organized documents was released through the Jesuit Society. These included a draft of Gao Shunqin’s memorial and translated copies of his correspondence with the Six Ministries, the Grand Secretariat, the Censors, and other officials in the capital discussing the matter.

The translations caused great fear among the Municipal Council and the Portuguese merchants. Many of them had lived and done business in Macau for years, some were even born there. Their property, careers, and families were all on this small piece of land. Now they were suddenly told they could lose it all.

When they learned that the Guangdong government was asking for their military assistance while simultaneously petitioning the emperor to expel them, the fury of the Municipal Council and the Chamber of Commerce erupted. No matter how Li Luoyou tried to explain the workings of the Chinese bureaucracy—that Li Fengjie was only the governor and had no authority to interfere with what Gao Shunqin said to the emperor, and that Gao Shunqin’s memorial might not be approved—he was still cursed at. Many told him to “get lost!”

Li Luoyou cursed his luck. Not only had his mission failed, but he, as the representative, had become collateral damage—his credibility severely harmed.

He was summoned to the Governor’s Palace, where the Governor made his position clear:

Unless the Guangdong government could provide official documents clearly guaranteeing that trade would not be interrupted, that the Portuguese would not be banned from entering Guangzhou for trade, and that supplies would not be cut off to force them to leave Macau, they would only then consider sending warships to patrol the Pearl River estuary to help the Ming expel the Australian detachment. Otherwise, the Portuguese would not interfere in any actions between the two sides.

Li Luoyou knew, of course, that Li Fengjie would not provide this. In the past, threats of expulsion and trade bans might have made the Portuguese submit. But now that expulsion and a trade ban were imminent, such threats were useless.

“Bastards! A bunch of corrupt, incompetent scoundrels! Disciples of the sages! Bullshit! A bunch of shameless villains! This great country will be ruined by your hands sooner or later!” In Li Luoyou’s Macau residence, a Chenghua porcelain cup shattered as he roared in anger. Tea seeped into the expensive Persian carpet, leaving a large, conspicuous stain.

The servants were too frightened to enter—they had never seen their master so furious. Li Luoyou stared at a painting of the Madonna and Child, trying to suppress his rage. He was too angry. Although he had anticipated this outcome before he set out, the events of the past few days, combined with what he had seen and heard in Guangning years ago, made him deeply question this government, this system, and the people in power.

A wave of dizziness washed over him. Li Luoyou knew he was about to have another attack. He quickly drank some medicinal wine—a special brew given to him by Liu San, which was very effective—and tried to calm himself.

His mission in Macau was a complete failure. There was no point in returning to Guangzhou; Li Fengjie was probably the type who wouldn’t shed a tear until he saw the coffin. He decided to stay in his residence and play dumb. This time, Governor Li, in order to completely distance himself, had not sent any of his own men, which saved him a lot of trouble hiding and evading.

With the failure to borrow troops, he became more determined to find an opportunity to contact the Australians and discuss peace terms. He dispatched his most capable servants to inquire about the Australians’ whereabouts and activities in Macau.

With Li Luoyou’s mission thwarted by the Intelligence Bureau, the Pearl River Estuary Task Force no longer had any worries. The navy was not afraid of the Portuguese galleons, but their current target was the Ming. There was no need to make too many enemies and disperse their forces for now.

After receiving the intelligence report, Chen Haiyang moved most of the warships from the detachments stationed outside the Pearl River estuary into the river channel, assembling them at Humen. At the same time, the marine detachment concluded its month-long grand tour of the Pearl River Delta and returned to base for rest and repairs, preparing to break through Wuyong in one fell swoop and enter the Guangzhou waterway, known as the “Provincial River.”

The waterway to Guangzhou went upstream from Wuyong to Huangpu Island—the site of Guangzhou’s old port. After Huangpu Island, the Pearl River was split into two channels by Henan Island. Following either of these channels upstream would lead to the Bai’e Tan (White Swan Pond).

The Bai’e Tan was located to the southwest of the Ming-era Guangzhou city, where three rivers converged: the Northwest River, the West River, and the Pearl River. The tides flowed freely here, siltation was not severe, and the river surface was wide and vast, with rippling waves. It was more than spacious enough to anchor the entire task force.

Chen Haiyang’s ultimate destination was the Bai’e Tan, to create a posture of besieging the city.

Of course, to lead the fleet to the Bai’e Tan, they had to break through a series of obstacles. Besides Wuyong and Huangpu, several hastily constructed forts had been erected on Henan Island, equipped with Hongyi cannons. The river channels had also been blocked in many places. Three lines of iron chains and wooden rafts had been laid across the waterways to intercept ships.

Compared to the main channel of the Pearl River, the Provincial River was much narrower, with a shallower draft and numerous sandbars. These were relatively easy to deal with. Chen Haiyang’s biggest concern was the sections of the river that had been completely blocked. Although his common sense told him that blocking a major river was usually unsuccessful—whether it was blocking the Pearl River during the Opium Wars or the Yangtze River during the Second Sino-Japanese War, most attempts were futile.

To be cautious, he decided to specially equip and modify a vessel for clearing the river channel. The “Great Whale,” despite its large tonnage and size, had a shallow draft, a wide deck, and a steam engine. It was more than adequate to be converted into a temporary obstacle-clearing ship.