William accepted the card and glanced at the printed words. They were so embellished with scrolls and fancy lines he found it difficult to decipher the name.
‘Lawyer Snelgrove, at your service.’
‘Thank you, Mr Snelgrove, may I offer you a chair?’
‘Thank you, yes.’ Snelgrove flopped down on the only other chair in the cabin.
‘Good morning, Mr Pilcher,’ said William, ‘have you met my associate, Mr Johnston?’
‘I have, Sir, I have,’ said the sheriff’s man as he nodded to Owen.
‘To business, gentlemen, to business,’ said Lawyer Snelgrove, opening his leather case.
‘I have here a sworn statement that the Albatross, with you, Captain King, in command, did sail from Liverpool last December with a slave known as Ben Liverpool on board. The statement also states that it was your intention to sell this slave upon reaching the West Indies.’
‘Mr Snelgrove, I have never traded in slaves. I have a simple question for you as a man of the law. Where am I supposed to have obtained this slave, Ben Liverpool?’
‘I am sorry. I do not have the information as to where you obtained the slave.’
‘You may not have that particular information, but you will be aware that no man can be a slave in England. I could not, therefore, have purchased a slave, nor stolen one, as they don’t exist in England.’
‘Clever words will not change the statement. A black man was secreted aboard this vessel with the intention of being sold in the West Indies.’
‘Ben Liverpool, you say?’
‘Yes,’ said the lawyer, wiping his face once more.
William opened the drawer where he had placed the ownership deeds for the Albatross and lifted out a heavy ledger.
‘Mr Snelgrove, are you familiar with a ship’s log?’
‘I am, Captain, but I fail to see any connection with the charge made against you.’
William opened the logbook and turned to the pages for the previous December. ‘The log states that we found a stowaway, a man called Ben Liverpool. Here, read it for yourself,’ and he pushed the logbook towards the lawyer.
The sheriff’s man, Pilcher, leaned across to also read the log.
‘You will note that the stowaway agreed to sign on this vessel as a sailor. He was a free man when he made his mark. Alongside the mark you will see the signature of the first mate and myself. In addition I have a full crew who will swear that what I am telling you is the truth.’
‘He was still a slave when you sailed.’
‘Mr Snelgrove, he was a free man when we sailed and was later found on this ship as a stowaway. The poor devil didn’t even realise he was a free man until I explained it to him. He was free on two accounts.’
‘How so?’ asked Pilcher.
‘I have already stated that one cannot be a slave in England, not since 1772. Also, according to Ben Liverpool’s statement to me and to other persons on this vessel, his previous owner promised Ben his freedom if he hid himself on this ship. He did hide on this ship until we found him. By his act of hiding he therefore won his freedom, being the bargain between his owner and himself. He completed his part of the bargain. So you see, gentlemen, when we left the quay in Liverpool, Ben was a free man, so we could not have broken any laws. At the time we sailed, after being wrongly detained, Ben Liverpool, a free man, volunteered to sign on the Albatross. The act of signing onto this vessel would have made him free, if ever he needed such freedom. We are an English ship and we were in English waters. I have the crew muster book if you wish to examine it.’
Lawyer Snelgrove mopped his face once again and stuffed the handkerchief into an inside pocket of his jacket. William glanced from the lawyer to Pilcher and waited for a response.
‘I think, Mr Snelgrove, we have outstayed our welcome,’ said Pilcher. ‘I would be obliged if you would accompany me back to the office, where we may discuss this incident in private.’
‘You don’t think I have done any wrong, surely?’ blurted Snelgrove, perspiration once again appearing on his brow.
‘Wrong? Mr Snelgrove, you are a lawyer. You can’t do anything wrong, but I am sure you would wish to see that justice is done. I need to talk to you about the person who swore out the statement that instigated this evidently spurious charge.’
The tone of the sheriff’s voice left Lawyer Snelgrove in no doubt that he should comply.
William stood and held his hand out to the lawyer. ‘Give my best wishes to Mr Nicholson, both Mr Thomas and Henry. Tell Henry if he has any other black free men that he doesn’t want, I will be happy to offer them a berth in one of my ships.’
Ignoring the proffered hand, the lawyer scowled at William and waddled from the cabin. Pilcher smiled and shook hands with William and followed. The sudden sound of a slammed door was a relief valve to Owen who burst out laughing and slapped his knee in glee.
‘How I kept my face straight, I will never know, William.’
‘Lawyers are time-wasters. If my handshake is not good enough, I will not do business. Any lawyer will break another lawyer’s contract. Forget him, Owen – down to business. We have lost enough time.’
‘What are your plans for the Albatross now, William?’
‘I think I will return to Boston.’
‘May I make a suggestion?’
‘Please do.’
‘The Prime Minister has introduced the Foreign Slave Trade Bill, the aim of which is to forbid any British ship to carry slaves. The Bill is to go before the House of Lords within a few weeks, after which we expect it to be passed.’
‘Owen, I am aware of what has been happening, even though I have been out of the country for nearly a year.’
‘Quite, quite, my, dear fellow, I am coming to the point. Please bear with me.’
‘At your service,’ said William.
‘Everyone is aware that if the anti-slavery Bill goes through, and is ratified by His Majesty, it will become illegal for a British ship to carry slaves. Although British citizens will still have slaves on their overseas plantations.’
‘Owen, I am also aware of this. Please come to the point!’
‘I am surprised you have not yet picked up on the point, William.’
‘Enlighten me, please.’
‘What will the current owners of British slave ships do to generate income for their ships?’
William stared at Owen without blinking, for over a minute, as the logic of Owen’s point became obvious.
‘Carry on, Owen.’
‘Thank you, my friend. My point is that without trade contracts and contacts outside of the slave trade, many will have to sell their ships. There will be a glut of ships on the market and we will be able to buy one or two at good prices.’
‘Are there any in port for sale now?’ enquired William.
‘There may be, but once people know we are in the market, the price will rise.’
‘Then we must poison the market and play down the desirability of an ex-slave ship.’
Later that day William met his father in the company’ office.
‘It is agreed then, Father. I will control both the Margaret Rose and the Elizabeth Rose?’
‘Yes, do what you think is right. I’m tired and I have lost Charlotte. Will you keep the crews?’
‘They are still your ships, Father. My involvement will be as manager to make sure they operate profitably, without being involved in the trade. To answer your question. Yes I will keep the crews, if they are willing to sail on a ship that is not involved in the trade, but they will be on lower wages. I cannot match the wages earned on a slaver. It will be up to them.’
William watched his father in the chair near the fire. He was tired and looked old.
George stared into the fire. He had been happy when he married Charlotte, but now he felt a fool for believing that she felt the same about him. The shock of losing her, although he had known he had lost her the minute he forced his attentions on her, had caused him to despai
r.
He shivered, as if he was cold, each time he thought how close he had come to losing his son. George was happy to allow William to control both of his vessels, even at the risk of a rift between him and Donald Nicholson.
‘Father, I must attend to matters elsewhere. Will you be all right?’
‘What? Aye, I’ll be fine. Will I see you at home this evening?’
‘I will do my best to be there.’
‘Go and attend to business then. You have been away from it far too long.’
William climbed the stairs to Owen’s rooms with a spring in his step. His father had showed confidence in him by allowing him to control the two Rose vessels. As he raised his hand to knock on the door, it opened.
‘Thought I recognised those footsteps. You appear happy with the world,’ said Owen smiling.
‘I am, Owen. Father has given me control of his two ships.’
‘Marvellous. When are they due in Liverpool?’
‘The Elizabeth, before Christmas, and the Margaret, early January.’
‘I have some news as well. I have found a slaver and the owner has read the signs of change in the same way that we have. He has agreed to sell her. She is currently at anchor in the river.’
‘The problem is, Owen, I have little money left after paying my partners for their share of the Albatross.’
‘Hmm, well, I have a large investment in stock, and in the factory in Manchester. I also have to find other markets.’
‘What do you propose?’
‘That I buy the ex-slaver, but that we jointly share the cost of sailing her. She would carry my cargo and I would act as your agent in England. We would jointly share the profits, but you could use your share to purchase her from me some time in the future. I am not interested in owning sailing vessels. I own the factory where the goods your ships will carry are manufactured – that is enough responsibility for me.’
‘We have a deal, Owen. My hand on it.’
Owen smiled and accepted the partnership on a handshake.
‘So what kind of vessel is this slaver?’
‘She is a three-masted barque and her name is the Blackbird. I understand she is fast.’
‘We must change her name, Owen. I’ll not feel right sailing an ex-slaver with such a name.’
‘I heard that it was bad luck to change the name of a ship.’
‘It is, but I think I can get round that little problem.’
‘How?’
‘We will call her the Black Swan, which is a black bird, is it not?’
Owen shook his head and laughed. ‘I should have known you would dream up the right name.’
‘The next problem is to gain ownership. How much does the owner want?’
‘I will ascertain the amount and let you know. I do know the owner is not too well at present. He has picked up some disease during his ventures in the African trade.’
Ten days later Owen purchased the Blackbird and renamed her the Black Swan. The figurehead on her bow was altered to be more like a swan. She was a low-drafted vessel, built for speed and for navigating the rivers of the African coast. Her hold was rigged to carry the maximum number of slaves.
William arranged for her to be pulled out of the water and checked on a slipway. The tiers, for the slaves, were ripped out and replaced with cargo holds. Gangs of labourers cleaned her and painted the inside with lime-wash in an effort to kill the smell and return some dignity to such a fine vessel. Her sails and rigging were in good order. The previous owner had looked after his ship so as to make a good profit from his human cargo. A fast passage from the west coast of Africa would mean his cargo would be in better condition on arrival, which meant better prices from the slave market.
William studied her lines and visualised her in the water. A good wind on her quarter and she would fly. She would be ideal for the ice trade from Boston to Jamaica and for carrying fruit on the return trip.
Owen organised the cargo from his factories in Manchester and also sold space on the Black Swan to those merchants who wished to take advantage of a fast passage to Boston. He arranged for William to act as their agent in Boston if they didn’t already have one.
To return to Boston and to Ruth was the driving force in William’s mind in the final few weeks of 1806.
As expected the Elizabeth Rose arrived in Liverpool the week before Christmas. Many vessels now sailed on their own as the threat from the French had subsided after their defeat off Cape Trafalgar.
William re-equipped the Elizabeth Rose and sent her to the Mediterranean to reactivate her old trading patterns. His instructions to the captain were given as owner of the vessel.
The Albatross was made ready for her next voyage, but this time without William in command. William appointed David Fuller as first mate and hired a new captain who had not been involved in the trade.
She sailed the second week in December for Boston, and for another winter on the ice trade.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Boston Again
Late January 1807
After the pilot disembarked at the mouth of the River Mersey, William ordered all sails, and with the wind on the Black Swan’s starboard quarter she almost flew down the Irish Sea and out through the St George’s Channel to the open Atlantic. He tested the crew, and his new ship, to their limits. She was a beautiful vessel to handle.
It was nearly dawn on the twentieth day of the voyage, and the sky was clearing after heavy overnight rain. William had spent most of the night on deck, but didn’t feel tired. He rubbed a hand across his face and realised he needed a shave. He tried to remember the last time he had shaved himself, and came to the conclusion he hadn’t shaved his own cheeks for over a year. Not since the day Sang took him in hand.
‘Eight bells, Sir.’
‘Thank you, Mr Austin, please make it so.’
Michael Austin struck the ship’s bell eight times. At the sound of the first strike, the off-watch crew came on deck to take over from the duty watch.
William watched as twelve-year-old Michael Austin made his way below. He remembered the conversation with Michael’s mother on the day before they were to sail. Sang had knocked to say a lady wanted to see him. At first he thought it might be Charlotte, until the frail figure of James Austin’s widow entered the cabin, followed by a young boy. He was tall for his age and had the stance and facial features of James Austin.
‘Mrs Austin, a pleasure.’
‘Captain King, I will come to the point. This is Michael and you told me that you would train him to be an officer.’
‘That is correct, Ma’am.’
‘He,’ said Mrs Austin, and pointed to her son, ‘wants to go to sea and has been pestering me for days. I have agreed, but only for one voyage, after which I want the truth from you, Captain, as to his suitability for the sea. Of course, if of his own accord he wants to come ashore after the voyage, that is another matter. I want him to work in an office and have a proper job.’
‘Being at sea, Mrs Austin, is a proper job. I was Michael’s age when I went to sea. Now I command my own ship. There is no reason why Michael can’t do the same, if he works hard.’
‘Thank you, Sir,’ said Michael, William hearing his voice for the first time.
‘Do you wish to go to sea?’
‘Aye, Sir, I do!’
‘Mrs Austin, we sail tomorrow. If Michael is to join us, he has to report aboard no later than six o’clock this evening.’
***
When the Black Swan hit the Atlantic rollers, the young apprentice became seasick. It was over a week before he found his sea-legs and was able to keep food in his stomach. He showed courage by reporting for duty each day at the correct time. He lost weight and appeared as pale as his father just before they sewed his body into a hammock.
Twenty-eight days after leaving Liverpool, William once again gazed on the snow-white backdrop to Boston harbour.
After berthing the Black Swan, he stepped down to Long Pier and
was met by Elijah, who beamed a large smile with his strong white teeth. The warmth of the greeting was never more genuine.
‘Morning, Captain.’
‘Morning, Elijah, Miss Ruth in the office?’
‘She sure is, Captain, she waitin’ for you in de office now. She not sure when you comin’ ashore.’
William climbed into the carriage and sat back to enjoy the short ride.
Elijah hauled on the reins and brought the carriage to a halt outside the offices of Abraham’s building. William jumped down and ran through the main door of the building to take the stairs two at a time.
Ruth heard the main door bang and the rush of feet running upstairs. She examined herself once more in the mirror and smoothed her dress. A quick glance around the office to make sure everything was neat and tidy just before the door flew open and William stood in the doorway, grinning at the woman he loved. She stood rooted to the spot, not sure how she should greet him.
Her hands fluttered to her neck with indecision. William entered the office and wrapped his arms around her, trapping her hands between their bodies. He gently lifted her face to his and kissed her lightly on the lips. His kiss was enough to vanquish any negative thoughts. She kissed him back and surrendered to the strength of his arms. Her knees felt like jelly as he kissed her again.
Eventually he eased his crushing hug when he realised she was finding it difficult to breathe. He stood back and stared at her face and stroked her hair. Her perfume invaded his senses and all he wanted was to hold her again and not let her go.
His silly grin made her laugh.
‘What’s so funny?’
‘You, my love, you have a grin on your face that tells the world what you think of me.’
‘Is that wrong?’
‘No, no, not wrong, in fact it’s very pleasant and comforting to me. I won’t share that grin with anyone else. Therefore, I will have to give you a gentle kick if I see it in company. It is not a grin for others, only me.’
‘Only for you, my sweet,’ he hugged her again, but not as fiercely this time. There were plenty of days ahead. ‘How is your father?’
Triangle Trade Page 30
