by Drew McGunn
Hays whistled appreciatively. “That would be one humdinger of a command, General. But, if I may ask, why?”
Will pointed at the map on the desk. “Captain, while the Comanche have been pushed out of Texas, by and large, we’d be fools to simply give them the benefit of the doubt. Also, Mexico will, no doubt, test us again, if for no other reason than to distract their people from their own government’s failures. When that time comes, I want a small force that can ride anywhere, fight anyone and whip everyone.”
Hays chuckled at the evocative image before replying. “Hell’s bells, General. That’s a tall order. How are we going to do that?”
Will’s smile slid into a malevolent grin, as he opened another drawer and pulled out the new 1840 .44 caliber Trinity revolver and set it in front of Hays. The captain picked the heavy weapon up and examined it. After cocking the pistol, he slid the loading lever out and watched the cylinder slip out of the frame. “Hot damn, General, you can reload this gun quicker than greased lightning.”
“You ain’t seen nothing yet, Captain,” Will said as he stood and retrieved a rifle, wrapped in a blanket. He unwrapped the weapon and hefted it. “The Trinity Gun Works just started producing this one here. We’re going to call it the Model 1841 Sabine Rifle. We’ve fixed the gas leakage and it is accurate out to five hundred yards. I believe a trained rifleman will be able to fire up to eight aimed rounds a minute. I’ll leave it up to your men to prove me right.”
Captain Jack Hays, all of twenty-three years of age was giddy as he thought of the firepower which would be at his command with these weapons. “Sign me up, General.”
Chapter 22
Will was impressed by how much Galveston had grown in the five years since the founding of the Republic. The ship’s pilot who had brought him across from the mainland said there were more than four thousand souls on the island. Judging by the ships’ masts alongside the docks, more were arriving weekly. As he’d ridden his horse away from the docks and into the town, he must have heard at least a dozen languages.
As he came to a wide crossroad, a white-painted wooden sign proclaimed he was looking at Broadway. He chuckled as he urged his mount to head to the west. By the time he was past twenty-fifth, or Bath Avenue, he was leaving the city proper behind. It was a far cry from what he remembered, as every time his horse’s hoofs struck the dirt, little puffs of dust kicked up, carried along by a cool, southerly-blowing breeze.
“Not an unpleasant day for February,” he thought.
He rode along, enjoying the cool breeze, blowing from the gulf. It reminded him of the last time he had been to Galveston. He and President Crockett had toured the two coastal forts, which covered Boliver Roads, the narrow channel between Galveston Island and Bolivar Peninsula. While he wish Congress had chosen a different name for the fort on the eastern tip of Galveston, he was growing used to seeing Fort Travis on the maps and charts of the area. Despite it’s name, he couldn’t help but be impressed by the development of the fort.
Battery C of the 1st Texas Artillery was garrisoned there, along with Galveston’s contingent of Marines. The fort also served duty for the navy as a storage facility for equipment and supplies.
In addition to the two company-sized regular military units, Fort Travis also served as the muster location for General McCulloch’s national guard units on the island. When fully manned, including the reserve units, it could hold as many as four hundred men and twenty-four large coastal artillery pieces. As Will came to another cross street, which was in fact a dirt trail, he dismissed thoughts of the fort from his mind as the dirt trail became little more than a meandering foot path, which he followed until he came to another large, white-painted road sign, declaring to any and all who passed it by that he was at the intersection of Avenue P and 33rd Street. As he sat atop his horse, looking down two tracks which could only charitably be called streets, he thought it pretentious to go to such expense labeling cow paths with street posts. But he then recalled in his own time, the entire eastern end of the island was fully developed. The town developers, Mr. McKinney and Mr. Williams motto might as well have been, “Go big or go home.”
He reined in his horse as he arrived at his destination. He was outside a large story and a half, white house. Will had been amused when he had read in a newspaper Thomas McKinney had shipped in two pre-fabricated houses from Maine, but now as he stood in front of one of them, it was clear prefabricated housing in 1840s meant something entirely different than in 2008. There must have been nearly a thousand homes built on the island over the past few years, but without a doubt, this was one of the nicest.
A man appeared from around the side of the house. His skin was as dark as ebony, and he walked with a pronounced limp using a walking stick. When he saw Will, still sitting on his horse, he hobbled over and after bobbing his head, in what must have passed for a bow, asked, “You be Gen’ral Travis, sir?”
As he dismounted, Will swallowed the bile which rose in his throat and handed the reins to the slave. “Yes, I am. Mr. Williams is expecting me.”
Will sighed unhappily, as he followed the slave. He felt angrier at that moment than he had felt five years earlier, as slavery had continued to expand its tendrils across the Republic. While things were better than in the history he knew, because no master was required to seek permission from the government to free a slave, he wouldn’t be satisfied until the whole horrid practice was consigned to the ash heap of history.
He stuffed aside his misgivings, as he followed the elderly slave up the stairs, where he expected another slave to hold the door open. But when the door flew open, he saw a young, tow-haired boy standing, with his eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape, staring at him. As Will made as if to enter, the boy grinned and stepped aside, while hollering, “Pa, General Travis is here!”
As Will followed the lad into a large sitting room, at the front of the house, he was struck by the number of shelves, lined with books, which ringed the room. A large, wooden desk was at one end of the room and two men sat there. From their looks, Will guessed his arrival had interrupted a conversation. Samuel Williams stood as Will followed the boy. “General Travis, it is indeed a pleasure to meet you.”
Will strode up and took Williams’ outstretched hand and shook it. “It is I who am indebted to you and Mr. McKinney for agreeing to meet with me.”
Will sat down in front of the desk, in the chair offered to him. As he was about to speak, he noticed the boy was hanging back, toward the door. Samuel Williams said, “General, if you’ll indulge my son, Austin for a moment, he has positively been bouncing off the walls when he found out who our visitor would be. I believe he has a question for you.”
As the boy approached Will’s chair, he asked, “General, sir, is it true that you and President Crockett whipped Santa Anna’s army single-handedly. My friend, Josh, he said it was just you swinging your sword and President Crockett swinging his rifle at the Mexicans until they retreated in fear.”
Will hid his laughter in a realistic sounding cough until he could respond. “Ah, Austin, I’m afraid your friend, Josh has been telling tales out of school. The truth is far less glamorous. The president and I were only two of more than six hundred men who defeated the Mexican army that day. Had it only been the two of us, well, let’s just say you and your friend might have been having your conversation in Spanish.”
Williams pulled a pocket watch from his waist coat and said, “It’s time to stop bothering the General, Austin. Close the door on your way out.”
As Williams shooed the boy out and closed the door, he said, “General, I confess my surprise at receiving your letter requesting a meeting between me, my partner and yourself. I’m afraid, your arrival interrupted our speculation as to why you wish to meet with us.”
Will allowed a moment of suspense to build as he watched the two men. Williams was dressed in a fine, but ruffled jacket. His waistcoat and pants were black, but his shirt was white. His prematurely graying hair appeared to defy
familiarity with a comb and Will would have been forgiven for thinking the merchant cum banker was not concerned with his presentation. In appearance, McKinney was William’s opposite. His black hair was slicked down, as though no hair would dare be out of place. His Jacket and pants were dark blue, tailored from expensive wools, and he wore his clothing in a careful manner.
The suspense was enough, Will gaged as he said, “The Banco de Commercia y Agricultura.”
As he spoke, Will carefully watched their expressions. Dapper McKinney spoke first. “Had it not been for what came from it, that particular enterprise would have been more trouble than it was worth, General. The only thing keeping that carcass of an idea alive is it holds more than one-hundred-fifty thousand dollars in government bonds. Had it not been for that, Sam and I would have dissolved it.”
Williams nodded his agreement. “We started with some grand ideas before the revolution, but our other commercial interests, here in Galveston and on the mainland, have actually turned out better for us, than a bank that Jacksonian politics has soured our fellow Texians on. If I may, what is your interest in it?”
Will weighed how much to share with the two men regarding the sizable loan he had received from the mysterious Merrill Taylor. Better to reveal a little to test the waters.
He leaned in and without realizing he had done so, spoke in a hushed tone, “What I am about to share with you, I share in the strictest of confidences, gentlemen.” Will waited until both had acknowledged him with their assent. “As you may be aware, I own a sizable stake in the Gulf Farms Corporation in West Liberty. Recently, I have received a sizable personal investment which I intend to use to make an additional purchase of stock in the company. Because of several factors, I wish to have the money invested through a bank and have the bank hold any additional stock. I worry what some politicians might say if they were to learn the general of the army was a money grubbing mercantilist. Personally, I don’t think they like the competition.”
Williams laughed. “No fear of that here, General. The grubbier the money the better. But, how much of your loan are you interested in passing though such a bank?”
As Will looked between the two men, he decided to reveal his hand slowly. He said, “What is the current value of your bank, gentlemen. Before I talk about numbers, knowing the solvency of the financial institution would be helpful to me.”
Both Williams and McKinney were silent for a moment, as Will watched the two men trade looks of concern. Will added, “As I mentioned, this conversation is held in the strictest of confidence, nothing you share with me will leave this room.”
Eventually, McKinney said, “While it’s been a few months since either of us have worked on the commercial bank’s books, as I last recall, the bank’s assets are one-hundred-fifty thousand dollars in Texas bonds. Our liabilities are the debt instruments from other banks totaling more than one-hundred-sixty-five thousand dollars.”
Williams nodded and added, “Nearly all of the bank’s liabilities were added during the revolution, when we acted as its officers and used our lines of credit to outfit ships for the navy back in ’36 as well as to secure gunpowder and other munitions.”
Will nodded sagaciously as he listened to the men. This was information he had obtained over the previous month. He frowned, as though taking in the information. Then he said, “I’m concerned as things now stand, your bank lacks the solvency to act for my interests, but let me ask, what would it cost to buy your interests in the bank, gentlemen?” There, he had done it. He asked the question which had brought him to Galveston.
Both men rocked back in their chairs, absorbing the new development. This wasn’t what they had expected to hear. McKinney was the first to break the silence. “I might be of a mind to part with my interest in the bank. Austin is now the nation’s capital and there is a lot of growth going on there. I have a league of land near there and my instincts tell me there’s a future to be had ranching in the hill country to the west now that the Comanche are no longer a threat. It might be a good time to not have my interests divided, provided the right set of circumstances presented itself.”
Williams smiled at his partner, “I’m probably more optimistic than Thomas is. I have no interest in selling my ownership in the bank. I’d like to think its future could be bright.”
Will was pleased at what he was hearing. “For a company with liabilities at least fifteen thousand more than assets, what would you consider to be a fair price for your part in the bank, Mr. McKinney?”
After a long, thoughtful pause, McKinney said, “I would consider my half of the enterprise worth twenty-five thousand dollars, provided you assume my portion of the liabilities.”
“My ass,” Will thought.
Over the past few years, Will had learned more about business than he could have imagined before the transference had happened. He saw McKinney’s bluff and decided to call it.
“Mr. McKinney, I thought Sam was the optimist,” Will said, indicating toward Williams. “I’m not sure how a company with fifteen thousand dollars in liabilities in excess of its assets could possibly be worth twenty-five thousand between both of you, let alone yourself. I readily concede the two of you have expended your effort and expense during the revolution and such a sacrifice merits recompense. Now correct me if I am wrong, but aren’t some of those liabilities held by the bank actually debt instruments to the two of you?”
McKinney shrugged and said, “A debt is a debt, regardless of who it is to, General. You asked me what I thought it was worth. We obviously have different ideas, but it would be churlish of me to not consider a reasonable offer.”
Will decided if McKinney could demand the moon, he would low-ball his own offer. “I’m prepared to offer the fair price of ten thousand dollars to you for your share of the bank.”
McKinney wore a studied frown as he considered Wil’s offer. “That would hardly compensate me for the past five years’ worth of effort. Given my contribution to the war effort, my half of the business can scarcely be worth less than twenty-five thousand dollars, but as I am eager to see to new opportunities in Austin, I would accept an offer of twenty thousand.”
A thin smile creased Will’s face as he said, “I happily acknowledge your significant contribution to our recent revolution, Mr. McKinney. Where it not for the powder and balls that you and Mr. Williams shipped to Texas, our victory on the Rio Grande and the Nueces might not have been possible.”
At the less than subtle reminder of Will’s own contribution to the revolution, Williams gave a knowing smile at McKinney before saying, “Tom, why don’t you accept the general’s offer? Everyone in the room knows that as it stands today, the stock’s nearly worthless.”
McKinney glowered at his partner and then relented. “Fine, I accept your offer, General. Ten thousand dollars it is. Somehow, I strongly suspect, you’re getting a much better deal than that which is apparent.” He reached out his hand and Will took it, sealing the deal.
Will gave his best impression of a Teddy Roosevelt smile and said, “Mr. Williams, it looks to me like we’re now business partners. Would you do the honors of drafting the document for Mr. McKinney’s stock sale?”
Williams agreed. “I’ll have the contract ready tomorrow afternoon, if that’s acceptable to you both?”
After another round of handshakes, McKinney took his leave and left with a spring in his step, as Will imagined the other man mentally spending his money on anything of value between Galveston and Austin. He caught the thought, and reminded himself that neither McKinney nor Williams were spendthrifts. Both men had robust business acumen and he would do well to remember that.
After McKinney’s departure, Williams asked Will to join him and his family for lunch. Will recognized the repeated looks Sam traded with his wife, Sarah, as it was the same look Will traded with Becky. Williams’ family was young, there were four children, all below the age of twelve. Organized chaos was the word which came to Will’s mind, as he saw Williams’
three sons clowning around and being silly. The tired smile of an apology from Sarah was one Will recognized from his own childhood, having frequently seen it on his own mother’s face.
With lunch behind them, Sam Williams and Will were alone in the room and the other man asked, “General, after reading about Señor Garza’s success with the Gulf Farms Corporation, my own sources have told me you are an instrumental member of the board. After watching you and Tom haggle over the bank, I’m inclined to think my sources were right. What are your plans here?”
Will said, “Sam, my friends call me Buck. Don’t discount Señor Garza’s own business skills. Much of the growth and success of the corporation belong to him. Let’s talk about the bank. My goal is to add an infusion of capital into the bank, and as mentioned earlier, make a sizable capital and land acquisition loan or stock buy to Gulf Farms.”
Intrigued, Williams asked, “Just how much of a capital infusion do you have in mind, ah, Buck?”
Will stared at Williams, thinking about how much he would be able to trust his new partner. His thoughts drifted back to the old slave he had seen earlier, and he asked, “A question for you, Sam. I noticed when I arrived, you have a slave working for you. I had heard you were a Rhode Island man. I’m curious about how you found yourself owning a slave.”
Williams raised a curious eyebrow. “That’s an odd question, General. Nevertheless, the short answer is that after my wife and I married, I guess it’s been thirteen years ago now, our family grew as nature has a way of doing, and my wife wanted help around the house. Around that time, I found Billy, who you saw out there. He was for sale by his master, who had let him get grievously injured in a farming accident. If I recall correctly, I paid around a hundred dollars. You haven’t seen her, but we also have another slave, Chastity. I guess it was after Austin was born. One of our neighbors had this young slave woman who was barren. We inquired about it and bought her.”