Triangle Trade

by Geoff Woodland

  ‘Do you plan another visit to Senor Cardenas?’

  ‘Yes, tomorrow. I have agreed to carry his hides and some sacks of dried beef. He has an agent in Boston. Mr Leather. I would value your help tomorrow. I want you to come with me when I visit Cardenas. Mr Fuller is capable of supervising the unloading of the last of the cotton.’

  The two officers approached Senor Cardenas’ building and stopped a short distance away to study the layout of the area.

  ‘Mr Austin, I’ll go in the front door and engage Senor Cardenas in conversation. I would like you to explore the area and then join me and make out you have a problem. This should allow us both to leave.’

  ‘Aye, Sir.’

  Before entering the building, William closed his eyes for a few seconds until they adjusted to the low light within the office. He scanned the clerks’ area for the Negro he thought he had recognised.

  ‘Captain King, how nice to see you again,’ said the familiar voice of Senor Cardenas.

  ‘Senor Cardenas, good morning, I called in to confirm our arrangements of yesterday.’

  ‘But I thought all was arranged. Is there a problem?’

  ‘No, no problem, but as you know, I wish to make a fast turnaround, so perhaps we could use an extra gang to speed up the loading.’

  ‘I have arranged for two gangs to load your vessel when she has finished discharging the cotton. I was under the impression you wished to keep your costs down. If I am mistaken …’ said Cardenas, and smiled with his mouth but not his eyes, ‘if you wish an extra gang, it will not be a problem. I will arrange one immediately.’ He turned and spoke in rapid Spanish to the man who had greeted William the previous day. The man’s head bobbed up and down as he acknowledged Cardenas’ words

  ‘Si, comprender, Senor.’

  While Cardenas issued his instructions, William casually glanced around the office and spied the black man from the previous day. The Negro was writing what appeared to be a ship’s manifest. He raised his eyes and met William’s gaze. His mouth twitched as if he was about to smile, but changed his mind and resumed his work.

  ‘All arranged, Captain.’

  William quickly looked around in case Cardenas saw him staring at the Negro. His mind tried to place where he had seen the black man before. Some sixth sense warned him not to ask a direct question to Cardenas.

  ‘I am obliged, Senor, and thank you for your help.’ William offered his hand to close the conversation. Cardenas gripped and held it longer than required.

  ‘If there is anything else you wish, you have only to ask, my friend.’

  There was no sign of friendship in Cardenas’ eyes. William pulled his hand free and turned to leave. At that moment the outer door burst open and James Austin stood in the frame.

  ‘Mr Austin, is there a problem?’

  ‘Aye, Sir, may I speak to you outside?’

  ‘Isn’t it strange, Captain, how problems can manifest themselves in such a short time? Don’t tell me you need a fourth gang to work your vessel,’ said Cardenas.

  ‘Thank you for your time, Senor. I will return to my ship.’

  The captain and his mate walked quickly away from Cardenas’ building towards the wharf.

  ‘What have you to report?’

  ‘I think we have found the missing blacks from Boston, Sir.’

  William stopped and grabbed his first mate’s arm. ‘That’s it, James, I remember now. Inside the office is a black man making out a manifest and he recognised me. I couldn’t remember where I’d seen him before. He must be one of the clerks who were on the Albatross to check the paperwork when we left on the first voyage from Boston. He is one of the four that went missing.’

  ‘I think I have found the other three, Sir.’

  ‘Tell me, man, tell me.’

  ‘After you entered the Cardenas’ building, I wandered around the back and found a large warehouse near the canal. The canal must allow barges to be worked if a ship is at anchor in the harbour. In the warehouse were a number of blacks stacking bales of cotton and generally working freight. I thought I might be able to talk to one of them just to get an idea of what the company did for trade. As I entered the warehouse, one of the blacks fell from a stack of cotton bales and landed nearly at my feet.’

  ‘Did you recognise him?’

  ‘I did not pay too much attention because I just thought he was a clumsy oaf and should be more careful. His clothes were the worse for wear, but appeared to once have been of good quality. They were the type passed down from a plantation owner. You know how the plantation owners pass old clothes to their favoured slaves?’

  ‘Yes, yes, James, I know,’ said William sharply, ‘please get to the point.’

  ‘Well, Sir, he gets up from the floor and started to brush himself down, when I heard him mutter something in English. So I asked him if he knew if the boss-man was around. He peered at me and pointed to a small office area I had not seen. It was then the black said “Mr Austin, Sir”.’

  ‘He recognised you?’

  ‘Yes, Captain, he did, and I don’t know who was more surprised, him or me!’

  The two men stopped speaking while they exited the town through one of its eleven gates. The armed guards on the gate gave William a limp salute. The effort of a proper salute was evidently too much. William nodded and they passed through to the wharf.

  ‘Carry on.’

  ‘Well, Sir, it appears this black and three of his mates were shanghaied in Boston and shipped out on the Liverpool Lass.’

  ‘How did they end up here?’

  ‘They were not too good at being sailors, so the captain of the Liverpool Lass sold them to your Spanish friend.’

  ‘He’s no friend of mine.’

  ‘I bet the Liverpool Lass’s captain got a good price for them because they are all educated and they can write in English. The black I met in the warehouse was not happy. He finds the work hard compared to Boston.’

  ‘I am not surprised, he used his brain in Boston and now he has to use his muscles.’

  ‘Captain, I … erm …’

  ‘Speak up, James, what is on your mind?’

  ‘Well, Captain, I don’t think it is right we leave them to work for Cardenas. Not as they are free men and have been stolen away from Boston.’

  ‘What do you propose?’

  ‘Can we rescue them, Captain?’

  ‘When will we finish loading the outbound cargo?’

  ‘In about a week.’

  ‘Then we can do nothing until we are ready to sail. I will not risk a successful voyage and put the crew and the ship in jeopardy.’

  ‘Aye, Captain I understand, but it does give us time to make a few plans.’

  ‘Plans we can make, so remind me about the guard gate curfew,’ said William.

  ‘According to the Savannah agent, the guard gates are closed at nine each night, after the firing of a cannon. The gates are not opened again until after another cannon is fired at dawn.’

  ‘Thank you, James, this will take careful planning.’

  William crossed the gangplank and dropped down onto the deck of the Albatross, his mind awhirl with information.

  Now it was clear what Henry Nicholson had been doing in Havana, he thought. He had kidnapped Abraham’s clerks and sold them to Cardenas, bought female slaves and sailed to Jamaica. No wonder Cardenas recognised his accent.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Rescue

  Havana

  An anxious week passed. William thought it would never end. No matter how many times he climbed into the holds to check on the progress of the loading, it was never fast enough. The stench from the bales of hide permeated every nook and cranny of the Albatross. Would he ever rid his nostrils of the overpowering smell? Coupled with the odour from the hides, the crew also had to suffer the constant attention of tiny flies that were attracted to the sacks of dried meat.

  William felt sure Cardenas’ spies were on the quay. He could feel their eyes watching t
he slow progress of loading.

  ‘The last of the battens are in place, Captain,’ reported James Austin. ‘We should be ready to sail within the hour.’

  ‘Thank you, Mr Austin, how are our other plans?’

  ‘In hand, Captain, and the four blacks have been warned it will be tonight. We passed word to them earlier today. I visited Senor Cardenas’ office in the normal course of my duties and was able to pass a message to the blacks in the warehouse.’

  ‘It is fortunate they all sleep on the premises.’

  ‘Aye, Captain, but they are locked in a cellar of the warehouse at night.’

  ‘A problem I am sure we will be able to overcome. Who volunteered to come with us?’

  ‘Mr Fuller wanted to come but I told him he is to secure the ship. If anything goes wrong, we need him to make sure the ship is cleared from Havana. He wasn’t happy about being left out, though.’

  ‘You were right, Mr Austin. Who else?’

  ‘We have four of the crew, all reliable and all able to handle themselves with a pistol or cutlass. They have seen action in the past.’

  ‘What about the bosun?’

  ‘Like Fuller, he was of the opinion we couldn’t do without him, but this time I told him he and the second mate are in charge.’

  ‘Excellent. When it is dark, have the Albatross moved from the wharf to an anchorage, and ready to make sail. Issue pistols and cutlasses to the volunteers, pistols and swords for you and me. We may need a lamp, so have someone responsible for it and make sure it has enough oil, and whoever you appoint carries flint to light it.’

  ‘I think Sutton will be the right man. He’s a steady hand and has initiative.’

  ‘Captain, Sur?’

  ‘Yes, Sang, what is it?’

  ‘Sang come as well.’

  ‘It could be dangerous, Sang, and people could get hurt.’

  ‘I am your servant, Sur, so I go with you!’

  William smiled. Four crew, James Austin, plus himself and now Sang. They would fill the small ship’s boat when they added the four blacks. Sang could watch over the ship’s boat. ‘You can come, Sang, but only if you do just as I say!’

  Using their oars, the crew pushed the small boat away from the comfort of the Albatross.

  ‘Oars out, and give way together,’ whispered William.

  The four volunteers gently dipped their oars into the still waters of the harbour and began to row. An oily swell lapped the boat. William glanced behind at their wake and felt confident that the shadows cast by the three-quarter moon would cover their movement yet leave enough light for him to find his way through the city. He had waited until it was dark and the noise ashore stilled. It would be unlikely that the owners of the warehouses would be about at this time of night.

  William went over the plan once again in his mind. His idea was not to approach the harbour facilities directly but to land his small force in the mangroves on the landward side of the city wall.

  The small boat glided gently through the mangroves until the vegetation was too thick to allow further use of the oars.

  ‘Hold her steady, lads. Jenkins, off with you and see if there is anyone about.’

  Jenkins slid over the bow into the black water and waded silently ashore.

  William turned to his steward and said, ‘Sang, you stay here. Guard the boat and wait for us.’

  Sang, who would prefer to be at his captain’s side in case of trouble, seemed to know that it would be useless to argue.

  ‘Right men, over the side and drag the boat closer. Turn her around and have her ready for a fast exit. Keep your pistols dry and make sure none of them are cocked. We will have wasted our time if any of you shoot yourself in the foot.’ William was serious, but managed to lighten the comment and generate a few smiles as his crew slid over the side and pulled the boat the last few yards to the shore.

  The small group gathered on the path that ran alongside the mangroves. William glanced back but could no longer see the boat or Sang.

  ‘Mr Austin, mark this spot if you would, so we will know where to enter the water on our return.’

  ‘Note this plant,’ Austin whispered to the men, ‘it is the only one of its type. It grows white cloth! When you see it, the boat is directly in front in the reeds.’

  Jenkins jogged quietly back along the path having checked ahead for any unwelcome visitors. ‘All clear up to the city wall.’

  ‘Thank you, Jenkins. Now listen, men. If we are separated, make your way back to this spot. If you are challenged by one of us waiting here, our password is ‘ICE’. Understand, the password is ICE!’ emphasised William. ‘Carry on, Jenkins, we will follow you.’

  ‘Aye, aye, Sir.’

  The small group quickly moved in single file towards the city. The moon had nearly set by the time they reached the foot of the city wall.

  ‘Gather round,’ whispered William. ‘Mr Austin and Holt will stay here amongst the trees to cover us if required. You three will come with me. The warehouse is just over this wall. Hopefully we will have four extra men on our return and they may not be able to move as quickly as us. Some of them may have been mistreated and they will all be frightened. Follow me.’

  William and his three men kept to the shadows as they ran quietly along the base of the wall that curved towards one of the city’s gates. He peered around the curve of the wall and saw a guard patrolling in front of a large city gate. The only sound they could hear was the insects amongst the distant mangroves.

  William’s next move, if it failed, would see him shot. He could not ask his men to do it. He rose from his hiding place and walked boldly towards the guard. He managed to approach within ten yards before the guard heard him and turned. The guard raised his musket and challenged the stranger. William pulled a handkerchief from the sleeve of his jacket and wiped his brow, at the same time speaking to the guard in Spanish. The handkerchief muffled his words and gave him enough time to cover the last few yards. The guard, unsure of what the officer said, hesitated. William could smell the garlic on the guard’s breath when he brought the pistol down on his head. The guard collapsed and dropped his musket. William felt for a pulse. He couldn’t find one. He held his breath and listened, in case the noise of the falling musket had attracted anybody’s attention. All was quiet.

  A wave of his arm brought the rest of his crew out of hiding.

  ‘Chapman, over the gate and see if they have posted a guard inside.’

  The other two crewmen made a stirrup from their hands and pushed Chapman high enough to grab hold of the top. He slowly raised his head and peered over, then lay along the top, listening for the tread of a guard. The area remained quiet. He slid over and allowed his body to hang down inside. William and his men heard a soft thud and a grunt from Chapman as he hit the ground. They held their breath and listened.

  A scraping noise followed by a bump could be heard behind the gate.

  ‘They must have a beam across the inside of the door, Sir. Chapman may not be strong enough to move it on his own. If you, Sir, and Sutton, give me a leg up, I can help him,’ said Jackson.

  ‘Good idea, Jackson. Sutton, lend a hand.’

  William and Sutton linked hands and bounced Jackson as high as they could. He gripped the top of the gate and pulled himself up and over.

  The scrape of the beam as it was moved became distinct. Within a minute, the sounds moved to the far end of the gate and a small space began to open between the two giant doors. On seeing this, William and Sutton threw their weight against the door to widen the opening.

  They were now in the city. William ran quietly across a road and into the shadows of a building. The street was quiet. He waved his arm for his men to follow. Hugging the shadows, he moved quickly away from the area around the gate. He could hear the others as they followed. The beat of his heart filled his ears. He stopped at the junction of two streets and peered around the corner. It was Muralla Street. He could see the lights of the market in Plaza Nueva.
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  He was close to Cardenas’ warehouse. He could see a faint glow from it. He slid around the corner and, staying close to the walls of the building, ran quietly towards the dim lights ahead.

  On reaching the warehouse, he pressed himself against the wall. The others joined him. ‘This is the building where the blacks are being held. Sutton, see if you can find an entrance other than the main door,’ whispered William.

  The seaman padded off, his shoeless feet silent in the night.

  ‘Windows?’ whispered William to Jenkins.

  Before Jenkins could answer, they heard a low whistle.

  ‘Captain, this way.’ Sutton stood at the corner of the building. ‘I can hear talking from inside but can’t make out the words.’

  ‘With me,’ whispered William to Jenkins and Chapman.

  They followed Sutton to the canal side of the building. As they reached a spot near a large double-door, Sutton waved his hand for silence.

  William moved around some bales of cotton stacked near the warehouse entrance. He placed his ear to the door and heard the muffled voices. He stepped back and studied the wall. He could see a window above the doors that lead into the warehouse.

  William waved beckoning for Jenkins to join him. He indicated the window and whispered, ‘I want those bales to be built into a ramp so I can see inside.’

  ‘Aye, aye, Sir.’

  He kept watch while his three men stacked the large bales. At three high, William climbed to the top. He peered through the dirty glass into the warehouse and could see three Cubans around a table, drinking.

  ‘We have to get the Cubans to open the door,’ he said, climbing back down to his men. I doubt we could break in without them hearing us.’

  ‘We could pretend to be drunk and persuade them to open the door,’ suggested Sutton.

  ‘Too noisy,’ commented Jenkins, ‘we have to do it silently. We don’t want to attract attention.’

  ‘Sutton,’ said William, ‘hand me your lamp. Jenkins tease out some of the cotton and place it round the base of the door. Chapman, give him a hand.’

  With their knives, Chapman and Jenkins slit handfuls of cotton from the bales and teased the strands apart before placing them around the base of the door. Sutton handed his lamp to William.