The controversial supreme court decision in the United States known as Citizens United v. Federal Election Commission is infamous for equating corporations with individuals. Does that make business history a form of biography? Richard Grace does not take such an extreme position, but in this biographical business history, he looks at the people behind the corporation of Jardine Matheson. If biography is often dismissed in academic circles, it remains a popular form of history for both writer and reader. Moreover, if adroitly done, biography can afford insights that other methodologies do not. Here, biography provides a vivid picture of the formation and growth of Jardine Matheson in the nineteenth century by drawing deeply from the correspondence of its founders and other primary sources. One could not call the annals of a global trading company a microhistory yet, Grace’s characterization of his work as ‘a microcosm of the imperial experience’ (vii) is apt because it offers the advantages of microhistory such as the humanization of historical processes, but at the same time gives a sense of how genuinely global these trading companies were, their complexity and how this company managed to thrive when others did not.
After a prelude that paints a backdrop of Scottish history in the mid-eighteenth century, in the first chapter, Origins, we are introduced to the youthful circumstances of our protagonists. Chapter 2 gives some background on the English East India Company in the context of William Jardine’s experiences as a medical officer on an East India Company ship. It includes a useful discussion of the Company shipping fleet. Chapter 3 interweaves the biographies of Jardine and Matheson through their meeting in India. Chapter 4 is a discussion of opium, the China trade and the formation of the Jardine Matheson trading house. In the next chapter, Jardine Matheson and the Canton trade are examined.
From Chapter 6 onward, the book veers away from a strictly biographical approach to provide a close examination of one of the most impactful events of the nineteenth century—the First Opium War (1839-1842). In hands less deft, this transition might have been jarring, but instead, the reader is treated to a fascinating view of events from the viewpoint of the merchant. It is distinctly different from the political or diplomatic view offered in most histories. As such, it serves to expand our understanding of this pivotal event. Chapter 6 is the preamble, examining the failed mission headed by Lord Napier in 1834 that was an attempt to develop British trade with China further. The following chapter is a Jardine Matheson perspective on Lord Napier’s mission. The next three chapters cover the prelude and impact of the Opium War. This account is not as Eurocentric as one assume from the subject matter. Specifically, despite a reliance on English language sources, the Chinese official at the centre of the events, Lin Zexu, is given careful treatment rather than as a totality of his most famous acts: writing to Queen Victoria and dumpling all the confiscated opium in the ocean. These chapters are especially valuable because they provide a sense of the commercial logic of opium and how intertwined the tea trade was with this far more addictive substance. William Jardine died in 1843, shortly after the opium war, so the final chapter reverts to biography, detailing the last years of James Matheson’s life as a laird in Scotland.
The sole venture into the theoretical is a brief ‘Postlude’ on ‘Gentlemen Capitalists’, a phrase formulated by P.J. Cain and A.G. Hopkins which attributed the advent of laissez-faire capitalism to the end of colonialism and the rise of imperialism.Footnote 1 Grace breaks down their dense argument in such a way that it becomes entirely accessible for even the most casual reader. Grace concludes that despite relatively humble origins, Jardine and Matheson are prime examples of gentlemen capitalists. Grace’s narrative of these two ‘gentlemanly capitalists’ seems a bit old-fashioned, almost as if it is from the time of ‘gentlemanly history’ rather than the rough-and-tumble world of postmodernism and post-postmodernism. The writing is smooth, pellucid and jargon-free, with a sense of narrative. Chapters proceed like a novel without summaries or conclusions, a style that is appreciated by readers academic and non-academic alike, which is probably why the publisher decided to issue a paperback edition. This style makes the book a pleasure to read, but to move the story along Grace is at times prone to speculative statements. For example, in discussing why Jardine might have made a visit to his nephew Andrew Johnstone who lived at Halleaths on the River Annan, ‘he must have sought the quiet of the riverbank to escape his preoccupation with the compensation issue, which had been dogging his steps and his thoughts for a year’ (272) This does not seem to have been a purposeful venture into creative nonfiction, but instead is more likely the result of the biographer identifying with his subjects. For some readers, historical figures such as Lord Napier or Henry Palmerston could perhaps have used a little more introduction, but these omissions are easily remedied by a quick trip to google.
By choosing a narrative framework, the discussion of empire and imperialism is implicit in the case study rather than presented as a theoretical exploration of their structures and meanings. Likewise, opium is for the most part considered as a commodity like any other rather than as an examination of social impacts or the role it played in forming an empire. But if the reader is looking for insight into nineteenth-century trading firms, the Opium War, or even just a pleasurable foray into Scottish, Indian and Chinese history, Grace has provided an excellent reference for these explorations.
