‘I think they want us to heave to, Captain.’
‘Is it safe to anchor here if we need to?’
‘Aye, we can anchor just ahead, near the start of the Liverpool side of the channel.’
‘They may be from my associates. Heave to Pilot. Mr Austin, prepare to anchor.’
‘Aye, aye, Sir.’
The watch made ready to take in sail and anchor. The small boat drew closer.
‘Anchor ready, Sir,’ called the bosun.
‘Pilot, are you happy for us to anchor here?’
‘As good a place as any.’
‘Let go!’
The small boat dropped its sail and drifted slowly to the anchored ship. A Jacob’s Ladder was let down. A top-hatted man in a dark blue uniform climbed over the side and dropped lightly to the deck.
‘Captain King?’ asked the man as he glanced around.
‘I am the captain,’ said William, and walked towards the stranger. ‘Who are you?’
‘I am Pilcher, of the sheriff’s office.’
‘What can I do for you, Mr Pilcher?’
‘Sorry, Captain, but your ship is under arrest.’ As he spoke, Pilcher took a roll of paper from his pocket and a small hammer and some small nails. At the mainmast he hammered nails through each corner of the paper.
‘Your ship cannot sail until it is released by a court.’
‘What the bloody hell do you think you are doing?’ shouted William.
‘I am an officer of the sheriff and have been instructed to arrest your ship. Good day, Sir.’
William studied the paper and read: The sailing ship Albatross under arrest, together with her captain, and crew, for trading in slaves.
‘This is ridiculous. We are the one ship out of Liverpool who will not trade in slaves. We are on our maiden voyage to prove a profitable trade can be conducted without recourse to the slave trade. Who issued this warrant?’
‘All I can say, Sir, is that Lawyer Snelgrove of Liverpool swore out a statement that you have aboard a black slave, which you took by force in Liverpool.’
‘By force? You mean that I am accused of forcing a slave to join this ship?’
‘I have been told you have taken a slave, by force, in Liverpool, and you will try and sell him in America. Now I must leave as I have other warrants to issue. Pilot, can I give you a lift ashore? I bid you good day, Captain.’
‘Look around, man! You can see all my crew are white, all men from Liverpool, except for the Chinaman, who is listed on the muster as my steward.’
William’s mind raced with the sudden change in his circumstances. To think anyone would accuse him of being a slaver was inconceivable. He knew it was illegal to force a man on board a ship with the intention of selling him in the West Indies. A court case in 1772 had shown it to be illegal.
He turned from the notice to see the pilot swing his leg over the bulwark in preparation to climb down the rope ladder to the boat below.
‘Pilot, can I not persuade you to stay?’
‘I am sorry Captain King, but your vessel has been seized, and there is nothing I can do. I have other ships to pilot in and out of Liverpool.’
William watched the sheriff’s boat pick up the wind and head towards the Liverpool shoreline.
Chapter Fourteen
Stowaway
Anchored in the River Mersey
William paced the poop deck, deep in thought. The conversation with Pilcher went round and round in his mind. Why would anyone wish to swear out a warrant for the arrest of the Albatross? What did they have to gain? They would have to prove that he had abducted someone to be sold as a slave. The authorities would require a witness to prove such a crime had taken place. Without a witness, the only way to prove a crime had been committed was to produce evidence.
Suddenly William realised how the plot must have been implemented.
‘Mr Austin, rouse out the crew!’
‘All hands, all hands muster aft,’ yelled the mate, responding to the urgency in William’s voice.
When the crew had assembled, William addressed them. ‘Lads, you know the sheriff’s office has arrested our ship. While we sit here we cannot earn money, which means I cannot pay you.’
Murmurings of discontent ran through the crew. They didn’t mind sitting at anchor anywhere, if they were being paid. If they were not to be paid, they would wish to be put ashore. ‘Hold on, lads, I said I cannot pay you. I didn’t say I wouldn’t pay you. As long as you are with me you will be paid. I guarantee your wages.’
The muttering stopped. Smiles returned to some of their faces.
‘I want this ship searched from top to bottom. I don’t know what we will find, but my guess is that we will find a stowaway. If we do find someone, I still want the remainder of the Albatross searched. There may be more than one. Keep your eyes open and check for anything that appears to be out of place. Mr Austin, take the larboard watch and start the search from the bow to the stern. Mr Fuller, you and the starboard watch search from stern to stem. The weather is calm, so open the hatches and search the cargo. I’ll be in my cabin.’
William acknowledged the salutes of his first and second mates and went below. A germ of an idea had come to him. He sat at his small desk and dragged out his chart of Liverpool Bay. He studied the chart in detail.
It wasn’t long before he heard a commotion on deck. The crew had found something. He replaced the chart in the desk drawer and made his way to the deck.
‘We found this black fellow in amongst the cargo, Sir.’
‘Thank you, Bosun.’
The bosun and a crewmember held the man as William studied him. He was large, with arms that bulged from his sleeveless shirt. His round head was covered in closely packed hair, which showed grey in parts. His eyes didn’t show any fear. His canvas duck trousers were held up by a piece of rope that was neatly back-spliced. William noticed that each loose strand had been whipped with fine twine. Whoever made the stowaway’s rope-belt was a seaman.
‘What are you doing on my ship?’ demanded William.
The black man’s large round eyes flitted from William’s face to the shore.
‘Look at the captain when you are spoken to!’ demanded the bosun.
The black man’s head turned as if he had just heard something.
‘Can you speak English?’ asked William.
The man’s eyes still cast about as he looked at the shore longingly.
‘He don’t speak English, Captain,’ said the bosun.
William watched the black man’s eyes. The expression in them convinced him that the man understood the bosun.
‘I have enough trouble at the moment, Bosun, I don’t need any more, and this fellow is trouble. I’ll not feed anyone who doesn’t earn his keep. The Albatross has been arrested, but we are not obliged to keep stowaways until we get to land. We have not yet left the river, so he is not my responsibility.’
William’s voice rose in anger. ‘Bosun, reave a block at the end of the yard and make a noose.’
‘A noose, Sir?’
‘Are you deaf? I said a noose, damn your eyes, do as you are ordered!’
‘Aye, aye, Sir,’ said the bosun, and turned to the first mate for support. Austin stepped forward between the black man and his captain.
‘I trust, Sir, you do not intend to carry out what I suspect.’
‘Mr Austin, you will carry out any order you are given, or I will have you for mutiny.’
William turned away from the little group and walked back towards the stern. He clasped his hand behind his back to give the impression he was deep in thought. Half turning, he stared at the group and the now trembling black man. He watched the man’s eyes as he walked slowly back towards him. The man was on the edge of panic.
‘Hang him, Bosun, and when he’s dead, slide his body overboard when the tide is on the ebb. It will be lost in the Irish Sea by the morning.’
‘Ayeeee,’ cried the black man, ‘no, Mister, no hang.’
‘So it appears, Sir,’ said the bosun, a nervous tone in his voice. He was not really sure if he was still required to carry out the order.
William allowed his body to rock back and forth as he studied the stowaway. ‘Why are you on my ship?’
‘Mister, I be told to come onboard and hide. I be told you sailin’ to Africa and I could go home.’
‘Who told you we were bound for Africa? You will refer to me as Sir, understood?’
‘Mr Henry, Sir.’
‘Mr Henry? Who is Mr Henry?’
‘I only know him as Mr Henry, Boss.’
‘What did he look like?’
‘He a big man, a mean face with wide eyes.’
‘Wide eyes?’
‘Yes, Boss, the bit of face between one eye and the other is very big.’
‘Are you speaking about Henry Nicholson?’ asked William, the reason for the Albatross’s arrest now becoming clear.
‘Yes, Sir.’
William slowly walked back again to the stern. His mind was in turmoil.
The black man’s existence was the evidence required to condemn William. If William was convicted, he would be ruined, and his partners would lose all credibility in their efforts to make slavery illegal.
‘Lock him in the cable locker, Mr Austin, until I decide what to do with him.’
William flopped into his chair at his desk and pulled out the chart of Liverpool Bay to study it once again. A knock on his cabin door broke his concentration. ‘Come in.’ William relaxed when he saw his first mate. ‘James, come in and take a seat.’
‘Thank you, Captain.’
‘What can I do for you?’
‘I would like to know if your anger was real? I don’t know if you meant what you said, or if you meant to scare the black man. Would you have hanged him if he hadn’t decided to speak English?’
‘That is something I cannot tell you, because I don’t know.’
‘Pardon me for saying this, Captain, but I don’t know when you are really angry or if you’re just acting for the benefit of the crew. They don’t know if you mean it or not either.’
‘James, they don’t have to know if I mean it or not, all that matters is whether I know if I mean it or not.’
‘Thank you, Captain, I will return to my duties.’
‘Stay a while, James, I have something to discuss with you.’
James waited.
‘I think we can weigh anchor and cross the bar this evening on the ebb. I have sailed it many times with a pilot, when I was first mate on the Irish immigrant run, and believe I have enough knowledge to navigate the channels.’
‘But, Sir, we are under arrest.’
‘Aye, we are, and I am sure it’s because of the black man. If I take him back to Liverpool and hand him over, we will have ruined our chances of sailing. The courts will take their time, and we will be tied up with lawyers for months, which also means the crew, and you, will be on the beach again – without pay.’
‘I have been thinking on that, Sir. I need the money. To be correct, my wife needs the money. We have three children.’
‘Are you willing to bend the rules a little?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Are you willing for us to take a chance over the bar, without a pilot?’
‘It’s your ship, Captain. What do you have in mind?’
‘Bring the stowaway to me.’
***
It wasn’t long before the stowaway stood in front of William. James Austin stood near the door. The two crewmen who accompanied the stowaway were dismissed.
‘What is your name?’
‘I been told my name is Ben Liverpool.’
‘I’ve told you before to address me as Sir. How long have you been in Liverpool?’
‘I brought here when I a young child. I been with Mr Henry’s family for about twenty years, Sir.’
‘Would you like to be free?’
‘Mr Henry tol’ me I free if I hid on this boat, Sir.’
‘You did hide, Ben, which means you are now a free man.’
‘But I been caught by you, Mister.’
William stood and stared at the black man.
‘Sir,’ added Ben quietly.
‘You have a choice. Go back to Mr Henry, and perhaps he will beat you, or sign on my ship. We will not beat you and you will be free.’
‘Lawyer Snelgrove needs to be told we don’t have a slave aboard, Sir,’ said the first mate.
‘We have done nothing illegal, James, so we will not return to Liverpool.’
‘But …’ William held up his hand to silence any more comments.
‘Ben Liverpool, you are a free man, and as a free man, I can offer you a berth on the Albatross as a seaman.’
‘Where we goin’, Sir?’
‘To America, and then the West Indies.’
‘Is they near Africa?’
‘No, Ben, they’re not, but on our return to Liverpool I will guarantee that you do not have to go back to Mr Henry, so he will not be able to beat you. As a free man, Ben, nobody can beat you.’
‘Nobody?’
‘As a free man, nobody can beat you. You told me that Mr Henry said you would be free if you hid on my ship?’
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘Have you sailed with Mr Henry before?’
‘Yes, Sir, I sailed with him to Africa, but he would lock me up while we waited for the slaves. He thought I would run.’
‘I will help you to remain free, Ben, if you sign on to my ship as a seaman.’
‘What happens when we in America? They keep black men as slaves?’
‘As a British seaman, nobody can touch you. Can you write?’
‘I make my mark, Sir.’
William flipped open the muster book, dipped a pen in ink, and handed it to the black man.
‘Sign alongside my finger.’
Ben accepted the pen and concentrated on making his mark. When he finished, he stood back with a smile on his face.
‘Mr Austin, will you witness the signing on of our latest crew member?’
‘A pleasure, Sir.’
‘Thank you, James, will you now take this seaman and allocate him to a watch.’
‘Aye, aye, Sir.’
The door closed behind the first mate and the new seaman. William let out a long sigh. He felt he had held his breath for the past half hour. If Ben had refused to sign, he was unsure what he would have done. The last thing he wanted was to return to Liverpool. The court case would allow the Nicholson family to gloat, and prove that he was unfit for command. He checked his watch and realised it would be dark in less than an hour. The ebb tide would start in about forty minutes. If he waited for morning he knew the lawyer would be back, to either order the Albatross back to Liverpool, or arrest him and remove him from command.
William waited while Teng Sang fastened the clasp of his boat cloak. The course of the river, and the sandbanks, were embedded in his mind after hours of studying the chart.
‘It will be a cold night, Sang.’
‘Aye, Sorr.’
‘Mr Austin, two good men in the chains, each with a lead line. I want soundings both sides.’
Night closed in as William watched two of the crew climb on to the small platforms extending from the deck out over the water. The ‘chains’ were just aft of the bow, one on each side of the ship. The men’s experience and a small length of chain, waist high, were all that would stop them falling overboard. William watched as each made practice casts with their seven-pound lead line. They were finding how high they were from the water. When the Albatross began her slow movement down the channel, each man would hang in the chains and cast his lead line ahead of the vessel on their side of the ship. As the ship passed over the vertical line, the men would sing out the depth of the water. It would be dark, so each must know how high he was above the water and deduct this from the reading on the lead line. If it were daylight
, it would not be a problem, as they would see the marks on their lines indicating the depth.
Each man plumbed his lead up and down, to test for the bottom. They then touched the line with their tongue or lips, so as to feel the marks. The marks could be linen, bunting, leather or two knots tied together. William knew that their fingers would become useless after a few minutes of handling freezing wet lines. Their lips and tongue would become their fingers to ascertain the marks on the line.
‘Bosun, make sure they use plenty of tallow on the base of the leads. I want to know the type of bottom, along with the depth.’
‘Aye, Sir.’
‘If we stay in the channel, Captain, surely we will not need to worry about the bottom,’ commented Second Mate Fuller.
‘Mr Fuller, you may be the newest second mate in Liverpool, but believe me, I want to know the type of bottom on each cast. If it is mud, we will be in the channel, but if it is sand, we will be too far over. There are sandbanks on both sides of the channel. Didn’t you take notice of the buoy about three cables ahead?’
‘Yes, Sir, but I’m not sure which one it is, because you were using the chart.’
‘Point taken, Mr Fuller. The buoy is Crosby Point buoy. Over there is Crosby Chapel, so we have a reasonably accurate knowledge of our position. When we weigh anchor, I want you to set the jib and foresail only. Your course will be north, and make sure the helmsman is experienced, because if we run aground, we will lose the masts. The ebb should carry us down the channel, during which we will pass another buoy, so keep your eyes open for that marker. We stay on course until we reach the next buoy. That buoy will be the Formby Point boathouse buoy. We will steer due west at that point.’
William checked the sky and observed that heavy grey clouds had gathered. ‘Mr Austin, weigh anchor.’ He walked slowly to the stern and watched the water. It was still, but he could sense the Albatross was about to swing and face up river as the tide turned.
‘Anchor aweigh,’ came the cry from the forecastle.
The jib rose from the deck like a white shroud. The foresail banged as it filled in the wind.
‘By the deep six, muddy bottom,’ cried the starboard leadsman.
Six fathoms or thirty-six feet of water, and the Albatross drew two and a half fathoms. He still had plenty of water under the keel.
Triangle Trade Page 14
