Triangle Trade

by Geoff Woodland

  ‘No milk, Sorr, spoil taste. Ayeee-yah!’

  Drinking the tea, William laughed at the expression on Sang’s face when he asked for milk. Sang was correct. It did taste fine without milk.

  He placed the cup down on the table and straightened his coat.

  ‘Hat!’ he said in a mock stern voice.

  Sang passed his captain the hat, and watched him place it on his head and check the angle in the shaving mirror.

  As William stepped onto the poop deck, First Mate Austin saluted and said, ‘Anchor hove short, Sir.’

  ‘Thank you, Mister. Good morning, Pilot.’

  ‘Morning, Captain, weigh anchor, if you please.’

  ‘Weigh anchor, Mr Austin, and make sail. I want to enter the wet dock before the tide turns and the current becomes too strong.’

  ‘Aye, aye, Sir.’

  Even the weather was on their side. The Albatross slowly drifted in the slack water waiting for its final link with the land to be broken. The snow had stopped and a light grey sky gave the impression that the whole world had changed from coloured to black and white.

  ‘Anchor’s aweigh!’ came the cry from the bosun on the forecastle.

  ‘Make sail,’ called Austin to the crew in the rigging. ‘Take the strain, Bosun!’

  ‘Take the strain!’ repeated the bosun to the coxswains of the two boats attached, via cables, to the Albatross.

  William could feel her come alive. A puff of wind found the few sails set, and pushed her head around.

  ‘Meet her, Helmsman!’ called the pilot.

  Slowly the distance from Birkenhead increased and the Liverpool side of the Mersey became more distinct. They drew closer to the area of the old Pool, and the entrance to the wet dock.

  ‘Going well, Mr Austin,’ commented William.

  ‘Aye, Sir, much better than I expected considering our raw crew, and the recent bad weather.’

  ‘God favours the righteous, Mr Austin, and our venture is righteous.’

  ‘Aye, Sir.’

  The Albatross glided into position at the end of slack water. The tide turned and she slipped quietly through the gates into the dock.

  The two boats released their charge at the last moment and now lay astern of the Albatross, ready to follow her into the dock. Each boat’s crew lay across their oars, gasping for breath. Steam from their bodies rose in the still air. The trip across the Mersey had been a little over a mile, and the cry of ‘Let go the boats’ was a welcome relief. The Albatross slowly entered the inner dock, where lines were passed ashore to make her fast.

  ‘When will you sail, Captain?’ queried the pilot.

  ‘All being well, tomorrow afternoon. Will you be the pilot?’

  ‘Aye, Captain, I will. Just let the dock office know, and I will be down to see you on your way.’

  ‘I’ll do that, thank you, Pilot.’

  William turned to his first mate. ‘Secure, Mr Austin, if you please.’

  ‘Aye, aye, Sir. Bosun, hoist the boats and secure!’

  ‘I am off ashore, Mr Austin. When the cargo arrives, have it loaded, please. It is my desire to sail on tomorrow afternoon’s tide.’

  ‘Aye, Sir.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  Farewell

  Christmas Eve 1805

  William King walked slowly up the small hill from North Pier, past George’s Dock, towards the Pen and Wig for the final meeting with his partners. He was ready to do so and felt a little frustrated that he could not sail that evening. His partners had arranged a small celebration of farewell for him, and the Albatross at the start of their new life.

  The others were already in attendance, along with a few selected guests. Owen’s aunt, the dowager, Mrs Johnston, held court as usual amongst the ladies, none of whom appeared to be younger than forty years of age. Her voice was in full flight as she announced how pleased her family was to sell goods to anyone who wished to buy. She did not mind if they were sold for slaves, or for cotton or timber, just as long as her family made a profit.

  ‘Aunt, I am sure the ladies don’t wish to hear this,’ whispered an embarrassed Owen Johnston.

  ‘Perhaps the ladies would like to see the Albatross,’ said William, coming to Owen’s rescue.

  ‘Would it be possible?’ asked the old dowager.

  ‘If you look out of the window over the small rise, you will see a ship in the wet dock. That is the Albatross.’

  The old lady craned her neck. ‘She is very small, Captain.’

  ‘Distance distorts, Ma’am, but if you look closely you will see she is working cargo, the same cargo we purchased from your company.’

  The old lady raised her lorgnette spectacles and peered at the distant vessel. ‘Oh, I see,’ she said without much conviction. Turning to speak to her nephew, she asked absent-mindedly, ‘Where is the boy?’ The Albatross was already forgotten.

  William glanced around to see if he could see Owen, who was speaking to Edward Rushton. William was about to point him out, but felt sorry for Owen.

  He turned and faced the dowager. ‘I am sorry, Mrs Johnston, I cannot see Owen at the moment, but when I do, I will let him know you wish to speak with him. Would you excuse me please, I have a few last minute duties?’ William bowed and left the old lady to harangue her female friends once again. Not just Nelson used the blind eye, reflected William with a smile.

  As he walked across the room he felt a tug on his sleeve and heard a soft voice whisper to him, ‘Will you show me the Albatross, Captain?’

  William turned and saw a familiar face with large blue-green eyes.

  ‘Miss Charlotte!’ he exclaimed, ‘I didn’t know you would be here tonight.’

  ‘Mrs Johnston asked me to accompany her, because Owen would be busy.’

  ‘I am indebted to Mrs Johnston.’

  Charlotte flicked open her fan and fluttered it across her face. She managed a maidenly blush and looked down.

  William took her free hand and kissed it gently. ‘I am very pleased to see you again.’

  ‘Thank you, Captain.’

  He held her hand just a little longer than necessary before releasing it. Charlotte had not made any effort to remove it from his light grasp.

  ‘Will you show me the Albatross, Captain?’ she asked again, in the same soft voice.

  William sensed uncharted waters ahead, but the pleasure of seeing Charlotte again, and the excitement of the last few hours ashore, caused him to disregard his natural caution. This evening was a celebration, and a beautiful young woman was smiling at him.

  Charlotte had met Mrs Johnston and heard that William had been appointed captain of the Albatross. A word in the dowager’s ear and she had arranged an invitation to the farewell celebration. She managed this without being accompanied by her parents, as Mrs Johnston would be her chaperone.

  ‘We cannot leave,’ said William.

  ‘Why not, William? You are the captain. Why can’t I visit your ship with you?’

  ‘We would have to organise a chaperone.’

  ‘But you will sail tomorrow and I will not have a chance to wish the ship goodbye.’

  ‘It would be better if on my return I arranged for you and your mother to visit the Albatross.’

  ‘I thought you liked me?’ sniffed Charlotte as she peered into his eyes, allowing her own to fill with tears.

  ‘I do like you, Charlotte, but I can see a problem if just you and I visit the ship without a chaperone.’

  ‘Your crew and the other officers will be on board.’

  The look in her eyes unsettled him, as she now appeared distressed.

  If she started to cry, it would be difficult to explain. People might get the wrong idea, which could taint the evening. What harm could there be if he took her to the ship and showed her quickly around, then returned to the festivities. It would take less than an hour.

  He glanced around and realised that however simple it may seem, it could be a problem for the future. His resolve strengthened. H
e would not compromise his future for the sake of keeping this young woman happy. She was very attractive, but an unchaperoned visit could become a major problem.

  He took Charlotte’s hand once again and studied her downcast face. ‘Charlotte, you are a beautiful woman, and any man would be very happy to show you around his ship without a chaperone, but it is because you are so beautiful I must refuse your request. I cannot allow you to be placed in a position of compromise.’

  Charlotte gazed into his face.

  William saw the look in her eyes. She hated him. Her eyes were as hard as stone. Perhaps other men gave in to her wants and demands, but he would ignore her little girl charms, even if by doing so, it made an enemy of her. She would be a woman to watch in the future.

  ‘Upon my return, Charlotte, I will be happy to show you and your mother around the Albatross, and perhaps take tea afterwards.’

  ‘Ah! There you are, William,’ called Thomas Clarkson with a happy smile on his face, quite unaware of the tension. ‘Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.’

  In a controlled voice that mocked the tears so recently shown, Charlotte said, ‘Thank you, Captain King. We will see what the future brings. It may not be convenient at a later date to visit your small ship. My father has a number of vessels and I have been around them most of my life. It seems to me that one ship is the same as the next. Would you excuse me please, I think Mrs Johnston has indicated she wishes to speak to me. My hand, if you please, Captain.’

  William released his light grip and she pulled her hand free. Without a backward glance, Charlotte flicked open her fan once more and wended her way past the other guests towards Mrs Johnston.

  He was sorry that their short friendship had ended so abruptly, but hoped in time she would realise what he had proposed was the best for them both.

  ‘This is a good moment to give you your orders, William,’ said Thomas. ‘They contain letters of introduction to people in Boston and also in New Brunswick, in Canada. Read them later and if there are any questions you may have or suggestions that you’d wish to make, please discuss them with me. We have all signed the instructions and the letters of contact. There is a copy of each for you, and the original is for the recipient. Are you looking forward to sailing?’

  William accepted the sealed package and placed it inside his uniform jacket. ‘Thank you, Thomas, and yes, I am looking forward to sailing. I have had enough of the land and am keen to take the next step. I think I may leave shortly and get back to the Albatross. There is so much to do before we sail.’

  ‘Poppycock, my boy, enjoy yourself this evening. I am sure Mr Austin can handle the cargo. After all, didn’t you pick him?’ laughed Thomas. ‘Is it good luck or bad luck to sail on Christmas Eve?’

  ‘I never gave it a thought. Some would say good and others bad, but the North Atlantic is not a pleasant place in the middle of winter. If all goes well, we should be in Boston around the end of January.’

  Edward Rushton addressed the guests.

  ‘Captain King will sail early tomorrow afternoon, Christmas Eve, to help in our small way to liberate our black brethren from slavery. We will show Parliament that to trade in goods other than black slaves can make good profits for Liverpool. Under William Wilberforce, I am sure we will see the anti-slavery bill ratified. It may not be next year or the year after, but it will happen, and we will be a light to the world. Slavery is wrong, and is contra to the wishes of God. The day after tomorrow is Christmas Day, which is the day God set foot in the world to save us and show us the way to live. That great act was meant to include the black man as well as the white man, and it is only proper that, on Christmas Eve, our small enterprise under Captain King will demonstrate to England that we can make profit by trade rather than profit by the misery of our fellow man. A toast to Captain King and the crew of the Albatross. May they always sail with a fair wind behind them – and let us remember our effort is seed sown and we trust it will grow and multiply anew.’

  ‘Captain King!’ The shouts of good wishes and raised glasses brought a lump to William’s throat, the road to the future now set.

  William raised his glass in acknowledgment and toasted each group in turn. He noticed Charlotte did not drink to the toast, nor did she smile when he raised his glass to the group of guests with whom she stood. The look on her face made her quite shrewish as she squandered her external beauty to her flawed ego.

  Donald Nicholson flicked his coat tails to let the heat of the fire warm his back while he watched his son place a glass of brandy on the small table near his chair.

  ‘You have heard of the farewell party for William King?’

  ’Yes, Father. Charlotte told me of it this morning. I believe he sails on Christmas Eve.’

  ‘So I understand. This enterprise of the abolitionists is a concern to me. It might just work.’

  ‘Never. How can you make a good profit by not carrying slaves?’

  ‘Don’t underestimate anyone, Henry, especially William King. He is not like his father, you know. I can twist his father to my way of thinking, but after I heard the speech from young William at his father’s house, I will not take any chances with our future.’

  ‘Did George King attend the farewell?’

  ‘I have heard he hasn’t seen William since the argument in his house after the dinner.’

  ‘If George is not involved in his son’s venture, what do you propose?’ asked Henry as he sipped his drink.

  ‘I have a little plan to ruin this little enterprise. By the time I have finished, the anti-slavers’ reputation will smell worse than the river on a hot day.’

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘I have spoken to Lawyer Snelgrove and he has arranged to seize the Albatross. Snelgrove should be able to tie the anti-slavers in court for years. If he succeeds, the ship will not sail and the cost of defending their scheme will ruin them. I have heard that William King intends to take a share of the profits. If their ship doesn’t sail, they will not be able to make any profits.’

  ‘Are you confident that Snelgrove will be able to stop the Albatross?’

  ‘If Snelgrove fails to hold King in Liverpool, I propose that you follow him and observe. I will have you try a little trade with our American cousins without the help of slaves. Two can play at being the gentleman.’

  ‘Not carry slaves? What ship? Surely not the Liverpool Lass? She is rigged for the African trade and I am to sail in a few days. We are loading trade goods now. You have other competent captains who can be sent to watch William King!’

  Donald Nicholson paused flicking his coat tails and stopped rocking on his heels. He gazed at his son, his eyes cold. He wore an expression Henry recognised as the non-negotiable face from his childhood.

  ‘Henry, you are my son and one of my captains. I want you to always remember I am captain of the company. You will follow my orders.’

  The words came at Henry like the sharp stabs he received from his father when he was a child. Nicholson used to poke him in the chest with his finger to emphasise a point. The memory was so real that he felt the physical sensation of his father’s finger stabbing him now. His eyes roamed from his glass to his chest and then to his father, who still stared at him.

  ‘Yes, Sir,’ he whispered, feeling a child again.

  ‘It will only be for one trip, so consider it a holiday,’ said Donald in an effort to lighten the cloud that had descended.

  ‘I want you to be his shadow and to find out what he does, where he goes and who he sees. I don’t want him to make a success of this venture. I doubt he will, but just in case, I don’t want to be without information I can use to stop him and his abolitionist friends. The only person I can trust to do this correctly is you, Henry, which is why I am sending you and not somebody else. Who else in the company will have the same desire to make sure the family and the company are protected?’

  Henry nodded, already planning the voyage to Boston. He emptied his glass in a single swallow and proceeded to t
he decanter for a refill.

  ‘Henry, I have contacts in Boston through one of our slave buyers, so you will be well cared for. The contact’s name is Leather. This voyage will not resemble the regular African trade. It will be easier, so relax a little, but don’t let King know you are watching him.’

  Henry sipped his fresh drink, turned to his father, a smile on his lips, and said, ‘Don’t worry, I know what is required, and William King has failed before he sails.’

  ‘That’s my boy.’

  Henry’s mind was now on the girls in town. He had less time to have a farewell romp. Abstinence between Liverpool and Africa was bearable because he knew he would have the use of any female slave on the Middle Passage. Now he would find it difficult to obtain a woman who would allow his special requirements. Boston would be similar to Liverpool. Where the women were concerned, they would not allow his special needs, unless they were old and worn out, where a few extra guineas usually sufficed.

  William felt the light wind touch his cheek. The air was cold and clear, and for once the clouds had fled Liverpool to leave a clear pale blue sky. A watery sun struggled to warm the air. He didn’t really care about the weather as long as he had wind enough to sail from Liverpool. His new venture had begun and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so happy.

  ‘A beautiful day, Captain.’

  ‘Aye, Pilot, a great day.’

  The Albatross had passed through the lock in to the river and was now off the Perch Rock Light on the northern tip of the Wirral Peninsula. William focused his telescope on the Rock Light and could see children playing in the sand at the foot of the framework that supported the beacon. It would not be long before the pilot would leave and he would be on his own.

  He lowered the telescope, turned to check the Liverpool side of the river and saw a small sailing boat approaching. Its occupants were gesticulating and shouting, though he was unable make out what. He focused his glass on the boat and could see men in uniform.

  ‘What do you make of that, Pilot?’ asked William, handing the glass to the pilot, who focused on the boat and studied the people.