He paused.
‘This is where you, Dr. Watson, come in.’
‘How can I be of help?’ I asked, perplexed.
General Yuán beckoned me to join him at the table where Sir Edward was pouring the tea. He dipped his finger in a cup and began to draw maps on the dusty table-top.
‘My aim is to build up a modern army. Divisions will be stationed here, here, and here - Manchuria and Shantung, Chihli and Nanyuán, Paoting and Peking - enough to hold all foreign armies at bay, including the Russian Bear. We must standardise the drilling, the equipment, the instruction and finance, and the organization of the Army –but even if I had half a million trained men under my command, their numbers would be meaningless unless they stay in good condition. Napoleon Bonaparte said an army marches on its stomach. I say an Army depends just as much on the health of its soldiery. I plan the establishment of half a dozen Imperial Army Medical companies. That’s where you come in. We need your advice and expertise.’
He nodded at the two attentive politicians.
‘Our friends here brought to my attention your stint as a medical officer with the 5th Northumberland Fusiliers in Afghanistan back in 1880. Sir Edward tells me you are a man of impetuous courage. Come out to High Asia, Doctor. Help me form the first of those Medical companies, a prototype.’
He ended poetically, ‘If you carry out this mission, China’s gratitude will endure until the T’ai Mountain shrinks to the size of a grindstone, and the Yellow River becomes a mere seasonal rivulet.’
‘This request is somewhat of a surprise,’ I stammered hesitantly, darting a look at Grey and Haldane. ‘Where would I...?’
‘...begin?’ the General broke in. ‘The Chinese philosopher Laozi points out a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. It would be best to go to my country overland, by the least likely, therefore the most hazardous route. Once you touch the soil of France follow your nose east for 5,000 miles to Kashgar.’
He nodded towards Grey and Haldane.
‘With the Ministers’ permission, I’ll have orders left for you at the British Mission there.’
He added, ‘You will end the assignment at the Forbidden City. I’m sure you would like to meet our famous Regent of the Empire, the Divine Mother Empress Dowager Cixi, our ‘Good Queen Bess’, our She-Dragon.’
The General continued, ‘Our people say she has a secret army of women hidden in nearby forests. The troops are so numerous they are named ‘the Purple Cloud’. Each is clad in purple hue and carrying a bow and arrows of the same colour. They have bound feet yet move with preternatural speed. It is said they can leap great distances into the air, and rise under the bellies of galloping horses. Their leader is known as Jade Woman or ‘the divine-shouldered bowman’ because of the immense power of her bow and the distance and accuracy she shoots her arrows.’
I needed no more to make my decision. I got to my feet and once again shook his hand, offering my services. Haldane brought him the long silk coat. As the General turned to leave I asked, ‘Where do you go from here?’
‘I’m already late for a chat with Mr. Marconi at The Wireless Telegraph & Signal Company. I may have work for him in China. Tomorrow I shall do the rounds of your famous teaching universities, starting with the University of London. China needs teachers, professors. Astronomy, navigation, mechanics, geography, trigonometry, engineering and so on. I shall poach them.’
He nodded towards the watchful Foreign Secretary and smiled.
‘Then Brighton. I have the offer of a tour of a famous palace there.’
Grey intervened.
‘The Royal Pavilion. I want General Yuán to know we have buildings as fine as the ones we hear of in Peking.’
The General resumed, ‘Afterwards I shall take in a performance of a play on the Palace Pier, by your famous Mr. Shakespeare - my first. Then I shall be driven to Sherborne. My three sons are in school there. The eldest is playing in the last cricket match of the season, against their great rivals Canford School. I plan to attend it.’
His expression became serious.
‘Dr. Watson, you will have to arm yourself for the journey. My enemies are many. They will become your enemies too. Any trespasser in the mountain badlands is regarded as fair game by the local tribesmen. You will face physical hardship. The winters are cruel, the summers sweltering. You will need mules and ponies, cooks and coolies. You will cling dizzily to mountain ledges. There are sections where if you stray you will - when you are already past the point of no return - be informed of your drift by a continuous line of bones and bodies.
Above all, until you get to Peking, do not readily reveal you are a member of the medical profession. The only western doctors in China are missionaries. In much of China’s hinterland, if you are mistaken for a Christian missionary, I cannot guarantee your life. I have no idea whether you are a man of religious faith or entirely without, but I simply state the truth when I say the Chinese people suffer as much from the missionary onslaught as from all of Europe’s and America’s standing armies combined.’
He paused, then with a slight air of apology explained, ‘If I may speak bluntly, these missionaries are forcing their faith ever deeper into my country. They build their churches all over the place with no heed to our deep belief in Feng-shui. Not even our graves are dug until the geomancer has determined the exact spot, its orientation and design, yet with reference to nothing your Christians erect buildings of stone, with arches and tall spires pointing straight towards Heaven. Are you surprised these outposts of your Empires get blamed when the next outbreak of disease strikes the surrounding peasantry? The next famine? The next invasion of locusts? The next drought? Is it surprising that to the Chinese every foreigner is fair game?’
He continued, ‘They seek the overthrow of our traditional religions, Buddhism, Confucianism and Taoism. They even vilify each other in their scramble for Chinese souls. Do we send our priests wandering over the earth to destroy the gods of other peoples? The foreign prelates seem to believe we Chinese are an immoral, cruel and degraded race; that we are utterly dishonest opium-eaters and in every way depraved; and that only a forcible diffusion of Christianity can save our Empire from speedy and overwhelming ruin. They say our people believe more in ghosts, fox spirits, immortals and demons than a Creator, more in fate and destiny than either heaven or the soul.’
The indignant outburst was followed by a swift grin and pleasant nod in my direction. His eyes twinkled.
‘Dr. Watson, on rather more mundane matters. I ask your advice.’
He gestured at my Morning Suit.
‘It will be my first visit to Sherborne School. I wish to emulate an English gentleman. What attire should I arrive in to attend a cricket match?’
Tongue-in-cheek I replied, ‘If you wish to amuse the schoolboys, a black top-hat, frock-coat, high gaiters and a hunting-crop. However, something quieter might confound the young beggars. The weather’s still warm enough. I suggest flannel trousers and a blazer. Blue, green and red stripes are the fashion.’
I had only the day before purchased a fine boater for summer visits to the Gatwick Races, a ‘skimmer’ crafted from stiff sisal straw and finished with a smart black Petersham ribbon.
I continued, ‘As to a hat, a Panama boater. A stylish fino. Like the American President Theodore Roosevelt. I recommend the cool summer weave.’
‘Where would I acquire such a thing?’ he inquired.
‘Nowhere better than my own hatters, Lock & Co, St. James’s Street,’ I responded. ‘Also, while you’re making Englishmen of your sons, when you’re in Brighton you might pop into Blackwell’s Bookshop and buy the latest Wisden’s, the Cricketers’ Almanack. Wisden’s is the ‘bible’ for every player of the British Empire’s favourite game.’