Chapter 727 - The Angry Portuguese
The Municipal Council and the Portuguese merchant guild held sharply opposing positions, and so the negotiations stalled. Macau lacked anything resembling an organized "Spanish Naval Detachment"—the armed vessels crowding the harbor were merchantmen, not warships. Save for a handful of light craft belonging to the Council and the Governor, nearly every ship in port was privately or corporately held. With so many competing interests, the logistical questions alone seemed endless: shipowners balked at serving the Council without compensation, and even those willing to help demanded ironclad arrangements for casualty payments, hull repairs, and ammunition costs.
The Jesuits, whose influence would ultimately prove decisive, had yet to declare their position—though everyone understood they favored the Australians. The assistance these newcomers had rendered to Catholic missionary work in China represented nothing short of a breakthrough.
With the Society's stance still ambiguous and the Municipal Council and Chamber of Commerce mired in their interminable debates, Li Luoyou could only wait. He was nominally in Macau to negotiate, but there was nothing to negotiate; he spent most of his days idling while the Portuguese haggled amongst themselves.
His intelligence network, however, grew increasingly active. Reports flowed in daily of Australian military demonstrations along the Pearl River—continuous small-scale operations that conspicuously avoided a direct assault on Wuchong, the gateway to Guangzhou. Li Luoyou understood perfectly: the Australians were forcing peace through war, applying just enough pressure to compel the Guangdong authorities into rapid negotiations.
Synthesizing the various dispatches reaching him in Macau, Li Luoyou became increasingly certain of his theory. He learned that over a month prior, several Australians had come to Macau seeking contact with Guangdong officials. They were still here, lingering as if waiting for something.
They must have offered peace talks through some channel, he reasoned. And the provincial authorities simply never responded. That silence is why their warships now prowl the Pearl River's inland waters.
Li Luoyou privately wrung his hands in frustration. Had the senior officials in Zhaoqing and Guangzhou reacted promptly—had they quietly dispatched someone to negotiate—this entire crisis might have been resolved before it escalated to this point.
But the Australians had already drawn their swords. They would not sheathe them without blood. By the time peace was finally negotiated, how many more widows and orphans would there be? How many wandering ghosts? How much wealth reduced to ash, how many homes consumed by fire?
He resolved to secretly contact the Australian representatives at the earliest opportunity. If he could learn their specific conditions and intentions now, precious time could be saved once formal negotiations began.
Gelaazzini spoke in his customary measured tone: "My child, do not rush. Speak slowly."
"Yes, Your Grace." Lando glanced sidelong at the Superior. Only the old fox's composure was feigned—his hand had trembled moments ago. Lando felt confident about the news he bore.
"Your Grace, I obtained astonishing intelligence in Lingao." Lando affected an air of great anxiety. "The Chinese court will soon revoke Macau's trading privileges. Merchants here will be forbidden from entering Guangzhou. The entire Pearl River estuary will be blockaded against foreign shipping. They supposedly intend to order local Chinese merchants to cease all supply of grain, vegetables, and meat to this city."
Gelaazzini had heard such rumors before—they had circulated through Macau for months. At first they were nothing but vague whispers: I heard trade might be banned. The Superior naturally dismissed such formless speculation. But the rumors had gradually accumulated substance and specificity, until recently he'd learned that the advocate for this ban was Guangdong's highest judicial official.
Now Lando not only repeated the rumors but supplied concrete details. The intelligence's credibility rose to better than eighty percent—this no longer seemed groundless.
"My child, is your news reliable? This city produces thirty or forty such rumors daily."
"Your Grace, absolutely reliable." Lando bowed. "I have already reported to the two Fathers, and both believed it necessary for me to bring this directly to you. Here is their letter."
He presented a letter from Father Trigault. It not only confirmed Lando's account but specifically noted that his source was a "high-ranking" Catholic Senator among the Australians—one who expressed great concern for the safety of Macau, which he called "the Church's lighthouse in the Far East." The Senator hoped the Portuguese would prepare accordingly.
Lando added: "The Australians not only know the details—they possess direct evidence."
Gelaazzini frowned as he read. Was this an attempt to sow discord? The Australians surely knew the Guangdong authorities sought Portuguese military assistance. If the Portuguese sided with the Ming, it would severely disadvantage the Australian campaign in the Pearl River. Perhaps that was precisely why they had revealed this intelligence to the Lingao mission.
He considered carefully. If the news proved true, there was absolutely no possibility of the Portuguese helping the Guangdong government. They maintained Pearl River security to protect trade, not to protect Ming subjects. If the Chinese government itself severed that trade, then the lives of Chinese subjects and the safety of the Pearl River meant nothing to the Portuguese.
That the Australians disclosed this so casually to the Jesuits suggested they held irrefutable proof—they needed no roundabout methods to verify their credibility.
Gelaazzini felt sweat prickling his back. If Guangdong's Provincial Inspector had truly petitioned the Emperor to cut off trade, Macau's future was precarious indeed. Setting aside the various means by which the Chinese might force the Portuguese out, what future did a city built entirely on commerce and shipping have if it lost its primary—its sole—trading partner?
He thought of several commercial cities he'd visited in Italy and the Netherlands, cities that had declined after their geographical advantages shifted. Streets once teeming with prosperity now stood overgrown, grass tall enough to feed horses. Populations reduced to a tenth of their former numbers. Beautiful merchant houses and mansions stood empty, their doors boarded shut. Scenes of utter desolation.
He could not imagine Macau surviving such a fate. It was merely a small island on a cape, incapable of feeding itself. If trade were severed, the city would collapse into ruin almost immediately.
The Jesuits would have to abandon their best missionary base at the gateway to South China—and relocate to the distant Philippines, under Spanish control.
The thought made him shudder. He detested the Spanish—openly so. He needed no imagination to know what treatment awaited them in Manila.
"My child, do you have other evidence? This news alone will not satisfy the gentlemen."
"The Australian who revealed this said that if the Lords are interested, they will provide all evidence to prove it."
"I understand. Go and rest." Gelaazzini nodded.
After Lando departed, the Superior immediately summoned Li Luoyou.
"Jacob," Gelaazzini used his baptismal name and spoke without preamble, "I have learned from a well-informed source that Guangdong's Provincial Inspector has submitted a memorial to the court requesting a complete ban on trade with Macau. Do you know if this is true?"
Li Luoyou started, unsure why he had been suddenly summoned. Hearing the question he least wanted to answer, he forced himself to maintain composure.
"I am not certain, Your Grace. You know this rumor has circulated for some time. I am not an official and cannot judge its veracity."
"And based on your insight and logic?" Gelaazzini pressed.
Li Luoyou hesitated. Whatever he said might prove impossible to justify later. Gelaazzini's sudden interrogation clearly indicated he possessed important intelligence. He decided not to conceal any further.
"In my view, it is highly likely true." He nodded gravely. "Inspector Gao has always been dissatisfied with the Portuguese and the Holy Church. However, until now there were only rumors—no confirmed news."
"The Australians say they have sufficient evidence." Gelaazzini fixed him with a steady gaze. "Do you believe they do?"
Li Luoyou had no answer. He realized his mission was likely about to fail. After a moment's thought, he spoke carefully:
"Superior, I wish to draw your attention to something. Even if this matter is true—even if Inspector Gao did write such a memorial—it does not constitute an imperial decree. After the memorial reaches the capital, it must receive not only the Emperor's sagely decision but also deliberation by the Grand Secretariat and the Six Ministries. If divergent opinions appear at any stage, Inspector Gao's memorial remains merely that—a memorial. It cannot be treated as a decree. It is, in essence, no more binding than a... petition."
Li Luoyou deliberately chose the weakest European equivalent.
Gelaazzini knew the man was technically correct. He pondered for a moment.
"You know I respect you..."
"Thank you, Superior."
"...But I do not entirely trust the words of Chinese officials. Before this, several members of the Municipal Council made inquiries with various powerful Chinese officials in Guangzhou and Xiangshan. All of them categorically denied it. Now it appears they were likely lying."
Li Luoyou said nothing. He knew the denials had likely come from above—probably from Li Fengjie himself.
"If this matter proves true, I can only advise the Municipal Council not to provide any form of assistance to the Guangdong authorities. I think if you stood in our position, you could not agree to help either." Gelaazzini folded his hands. "If merchants cannot trade, what relation does Pearl River security bear to the Municipal Council?"
Li Luoyou answered heavily: "Yes, I fully understand your meaning."
"...Unless the Guangdong authorities can provide concrete clarification regarding Macau's future," the Superior continued, "including guarantees for trade."
Li Luoyou understood that without concrete guarantees, these troop-borrowing negotiations would yield nothing. The Australians were clearly playing some clever game—he simply couldn't fathom what they had used to sway the famously suspicious Jesuits. Returning to his residence, he racked his brain: given that the provincial authorities had taken no concrete measures and employed only feigned ignorance to delay, it was hardly surprising the Jesuits trusted the Australians instead.
A few days later, the Macau Municipal Council erupted into uproar.
A cache of carefully organized documents was released through the Jesuits. These included drafts of Inspector Gao Shunqin's memorial and translated copies of his correspondence with the Six Ministries, the Grand Secretariat, Supervising Secretaries, and Censors in the capital.
The translations struck terror into the hearts of the Municipal Council and Portuguese merchants. Many had lived and traded in Macau for years; some had been born there. Their property, their livelihoods, their families—everything they possessed existed on this tiny patch of land. Now they learned they might lose it all.
When they discovered that the Guangdong authorities were simultaneously requesting their military aid and petitioning the Emperor to expel them, the fury of the Council and Chamber of Commerce exploded. No matter how Li Luoyou explained the intricacies of Chinese bureaucracy—that Governor Li Fengjie had no authority to interfere with what Inspector Gao said to the Emperor, that the memorial might never be approved—he was roundly cursed. Many told him flatly to "Get out!"
Li Luoyou groaned inwardly. Not only had his mission failed, but he himself had suffered collateral damage—his reputation was severely compromised.
He was summoned to the Governor's Palace, where the Governor stated his position with cold clarity:
Unless the Guangdong authorities provided official documents explicitly guaranteeing no interruption of trade, no ban on Portuguese entering Guangzhou for commerce, and no use of supply cutoffs to force Portuguese departure from Macau, the Portuguese would only then consider dispatching warships to patrol the Pearl River estuary to help the Ming expel the Australian detachment. Otherwise, the Portuguese would not interfere in either side's actions.
Li Luoyou knew Li Fengjie would never provide such guarantees. If threats of expulsion and trade severance had once been used to make the Portuguese submit, those threats had now become imminent realities—and they no longer held any power.
"Bastards! A pack of corrupt, incompetent villains! Sage's disciples! What utter filth! A horde of despicable, shameless scoundrels! This great land will be ruined in your hands sooner or later!"
In Li Luoyou's Macau residence, a Chenghua porcelain cup shattered against the wall with his furious cry. Tea soaked into the expensive Persian carpet, spreading into a large, glaring stain.
The servants and maids dared not enter—they had never seen the Master so enraged. Li Luoyou stood before a painting of the Madonna and Child, struggling to master his fury. He was truly too angry. Though he had anticipated such an outcome before departing, the experiences of recent days—combined with everything he had witnessed years ago at Guangning—had generated immense doubt in his heart regarding this government, this system, and the men who wielded power within it.
A wave of dizziness struck. Li Luoyou recognized his illness flaring again. He quickly drained some medicinal wine—a special gift from Liu San, remarkably effective—and fought to steady his mind.
His activities in Macau had been a total failure. Returning to Guangzhou was pointless; Li Fengjie was likely another who wouldn't shed a tear until he saw the coffin. He decided to remain in his residence and feign complete deafness and muteness. Since Governor Li hadn't sent even a single subordinate—clearly hoping to dissociate himself entirely—it saved Li Luoyou the effort of concealment and dealing with others.
With the troop-borrowing mission a failure, his resolve to contact the Australians and discuss peace terms solidified. He dispatched capable servants to inquire about the Australians' residence and activities in Macau.
Li Luoyou's mission had failed under the Intelligence Bureau's intervention, leaving the Pearl River Estuary Task Force with no concerns about their rear. The Navy had never feared the Portuguese galleons, of course, but their current target was the Ming—there was no need to make unnecessary enemies and disperse their forces.
After receiving the Intelligence Bureau's situation report, Chen Haiyang transferred most of the warships still stationed outside the estuary into the Pearl River channel, assembling them at Humen. Meanwhile, the Marine detachment—having completed its month-long grand tour of the Pearl River Delta—returned to base for rest and reorganization, repairing ships and guns in preparation to breach Wuchong in one decisive stroke and enter the Provincial River leading to Guangzhou.
The waterway to the provincial capital ran upstream past Wuchong to Huangpu Island, site of Guangzhou's old port. Beyond Huangpu, the Pearl River divided around Henan Island into two channels; following either upstream led to Bai'etan—the White Goose Pool.
Bai'etan lay southwest of the city of Guangzhou, at the confluence of three great rivers: the West, the North, and the Pearl. Here the tides ran smooth, siltation remained light, and the broad, misty expanse of water offered ample room to anchor the entire Task Force.
Chen Haiyang's campaign would culminate at Bai'etan—there they would posture a siege upon the city.
Of course, reaching Bai'etan required breaching a series of obstacles. Beyond Wuchong and Huangpu, the government had erected multiple emergency batteries on Henan Island, armed with Red Barbarian Cannons. Many channels had been blocked, and three lines of iron chains and timber rafts stretched across the waterway to intercept ships.
Compared to the broad Pearl River channel, the Provincial River ran much narrower and shallower, studded with sandbars. These were manageable obstacles, but what concerned Chen Haiyang most were the thoroughly blocked sections. Common sense told him that such blockages rarely succeeded—whether clogging the Pearl River during the Opium War or the Yangtze during the War of Resistance, most such efforts had proven futile.
Still, prudence demanded preparation. He ordered a vessel specially equipped and modified for clearing river channels. The Great Whale, despite her high tonnage and bulk, was a shallow-draft ship with a wide deck and steam engine power. She could be modified to serve as a temporary clearing vessel more than adequately.
(Note: The Portuguese throne at this time was held concurrently by the King of Spain.)
(End of Chapter)