Triangle Trade

by Geoff Woodland

  ‘He is well and looking forward to seeing you tonight at dinner, if you can come.’

  ‘I’ll certainly be there, with the utmost pleasure.’

  She moved to the mirror and tidied her hair with her hands. As he watched he had an urgent desire to stroke the small fine hairs he could see at the back of her neck. He brushed the back of his fingers gently, so very gently, along Ruth’s skin. She shivered and jumped a little, the delicate touch sending shock waves through her body.

  ‘You jumped. Don’t you like me doing that?’

  ‘Oh yes, but I can’t control the way my body moves when you touch me.’

  The welcome William received at Mamre could not have been warmer. Abraham greeted him as the long lost son he had always wanted. Discharging of the Black Swan had commenced that afternoon, under the control of John Leigh, the first mate. He was a capable young man and William felt it was time that he showed confidence in him, and so decided to sleep ashore at Mamre.

  Abraham, Ruth and William talked half the night about the political problems in England and America. It appeared the two countries, from the same roots, could not stop arguing over trade.

  The Black Swan was placed on the same agreement as the Albatross with Abraham’s company. Abraham did not object this time and solemnly handed over a dollar to William.

  After dinner Abraham made an excuse to leave Ruth and William alone in the drawing room.

  ‘Do you still wish to marry me?’

  ‘When?’ asked Ruth, her voice soft.

  ‘My father has two ships on the slave trade, but I have persuaded him to allow me to control them. He has agreed and I was fortunate to be in Liverpool when one, the Margaret Rose, returned from her last trip. I have had her stripped and refitted for cargo and ordered her to the Mediterranean. The other vessel, the Elizabeth Rose, had not returned before I left for Boston. I left instructions that she was also to be refitted and to follow the Margaret Rose. I am concerned for my father, as I believe his new wife has caused him much heartache. Her family is powerful and they are very influential in Liverpool. I know they will take advantage of him if he becomes too ill to manage his company. I don’t trust them at all. I think you met their son last year. Henry Nicholson.’

  ‘I remember Mr Nicholson. I didn’t find him to be a very pleasant fellow.’

  ‘Has he called in to Boston recently?’

  ‘I don’t think so, but Boston is growing. I used to know all the ships that visited, but nowadays I am not sure what vessel is in port. I only have dealings with ships linked to our company.’

  Only later did he realise that he had not answered Ruth’s question about when they would marry.

  William was busy the following week making sure the goods he had brought from Liverpool were landed safely. Abraham searched for an outbound cargo for the Black Swan.

  ‘William, you know the cargo will not be ready for some weeks?’ said Abraham at the end of the Black Swan’s first week in port.

  ‘Yes, I do. What do you have in mind?’

  ‘Ice.’

  ‘To Jamaica? The Albatross has already sailed there with ice.’

  ‘I have received word from a contact in Savannah. He wants to try selling ice locally. He heard of your venture last year, and tried to do it himself, but I wouldn’t sell any ice to him. I wanted to make sure I stocked enough to supply your ships,’ laughed Abraham.

  ‘Savannah? Not this time, Abraham. When the Albatross returns from Jamaica, you can send her to Savannah. I trust you and her captain will ensure it is a profitable run.’

  ‘My problem is that I gave my contact my word that when the first ice ship arrived in Boston, I would dispatch a full cargo for him.’

  ‘Your word?’

  ‘Yes.’

  After a few moments William said, ‘Is Savannah warm at this time of the year?’

  ‘Thank you, William.’

  ‘After Savannah, do you intend to return to Jamaica?’

  ‘No, not this time. I want to load the Black Swan with as much ice as possible, because I intend to sail to Calcutta in India.’

  ‘Calcutta! William, have you taken leave …?’

  ‘On the contrary, Abraham, I intend to take your clean frozen water to the hot climes of the East and make our fortune.’

  ‘A fortune, I doubt that, William. Calcutta is a lot further than Jamaica and you suffered ice loss on each of the Jamaica voyages.’

  ‘I know, I know, but I am convinced there is an opportunity for ice to Calcutta. I have spoken to sea captains in Liverpool and I understand that they don’t have clean ice in India. At first I presumed they would have collected the ice from the mountains, similar to the people of the Mediterranean, but it appears the mountains are too far from Calcutta. In addition they do not have the roads to allow for insulated wagons. We have learned a lot in Jamaica and if we can reach Calcutta with a commercial load, then there is no reason for the British in India not to have the same desire for cold drinks as the British in Jamaica. There are a lot more British in India and one never knows what opportunities may arise for cargo back to Boston, or at least back to Liverpool.’

  ‘As long as it is not tea from China!’ said Abraham.

  ‘No, it will not be tea. The Honorable East India Company have the monopoly on tea to England and I do not wish to cross them. They could put us out of business. I have plans for spices from Sumatra, though. Pepper!’

  ‘Bring pepper back here and I will sell every last ounce for you.’

  ‘I expected nothing more, Abraham,’ laughed William, clapping Abraham on the back. ‘The Black Swan is ideal for this trade. She will make a fast passage to India. We will see how fast she really is on the round trip to Savannah. On my return, I will load for Calcutta to take advantage of the winter.’

  ‘In that case you can sail for Savannah as soon as you are loaded, William. I have the wood shavings and the peat for insulation. Also, if you require them, I can obtain carpenters to build you a false wall in the Black Swan’s hold. On your return we will work around the clock to clean, and make good any repairs for your voyage to Calcutta.’

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Fever

  Boston

  Early March 1807

  The Black Swan edged closer to Long Pier near Abraham’s warehouse. The voyage from Savannah had taken an extra week, due to light winds.

  William focused his telescope on the window of Abraham’s office. He could see Abraham watching the slow progress of the Black Swan creeping towards the wharf. William swept the glass across the other windows of the building in the hope of seeing Ruth. He refocused on Abraham and waved. Abraham acknowledged the wave and then moved away from the window. The Black Swan was home.

  ‘Come in, my boy, come in. Make yourself comfortable,’ shouted Abraham.

  William entered and quickly glanced around for Ruth. She was not there. A large fire gave off so much heat that he threw off his cape and placed it over the back of a chair.

  Abraham struggled to his feet. Leaning on the desk for support, he offered his hand. William grasped it and realised it was just fragile skin and bone. The hand felt like parchment, dry and frail. He studied Abraham and felt a sudden dread as he realised it would be only a matter of weeks before Abraham would be too weak to stand. His friend was wrapped in heavy clothing in an effort to keep warm, despite the heat from the open fire.

  Abraham pulled his hand from William’s grasp and collapsed back into his chair. His breath came in short sharp gasps. The act of breathing seemed too much for him. His pale face was tinged with yellow around the eyes.

  ‘How are you my friend?’ asked William, dragging a chair closer to the desk. The old man waved his hand to dismiss any concern for his health and wheezed as he gasped for the breath to answer.

  ‘I am fine, just a little tired. A busy year, this year,’ whispered the old man. He closed his eyes as if wanting to sleep.

  William waited quietly.

  ‘I see you a
re flying the American flag, William,’ wheezed Abraham.

  ‘Yes, I heard about the Embargo Act in Savannah.’

  ‘America will be the loser. This Act forbids the importation of British goods, but where are we supposed to obtain alternative suppliers? I do hope next year is a better year.’

  ‘Our agreement …’

  ‘Fine, fine,’ whispered Abraham as if listening had become too much for him.

  ‘You should be at home in bed, not here in this office.’

  ‘Too much to do,’ whispered the old man.

  ‘How is Ruth?’

  ‘She will be here later. She had to go into town earlier, before we received the information about the Black Swan’s arrival. If she knew you were about to berth, she would have never left. As to your question, she is well.’

  Abraham sat back in his chair and pulled out a large handkerchief and coughed into it a number of times. The effort drained him of his strength. He let the handkerchief fall to the floor and closed his eyes.

  William rose from his chair, opened the office door and shouted for Elijah. The urgency in his voice produced the sound of running feet as Elijah bound up the stairs.

  ‘Captain, you called?’

  ‘Yes, Mr Judson is very ill. He should not be here. It would be better if he went home and to bed.’

  ‘I tol him, Captain, not to come to work this morning, but he do’wn listen to me any more.’

  ‘Where is Miss Ruth?’

  ‘She out in town, Captain.’

  ‘Send someone to find her and have the coach made ready to take Mr Abraham home to Mamre, quickly now.’

  ‘Yes, Captain.’ He turned and ran down the stairs, yelling for someone to ride like the wind and find Miss Ruth.

  William went round the desk to get a closer look at Abraham. The old man was sweating and shivering at the same time. He was either asleep or had fainted. William moved the chair so that he could pick up his friend. The lightness of Abraham surprised him. The layers of clothing had given the appearance of him being heavier.

  William placed his old friend gently in the carriage and made sure he was well wrapped in a blanket.

  ‘Elijah, take us home as fast as you can, but be gentle!’

  ‘Yes, Captain, I’s be gentle as I can.’

  William sat back in the carriage next to Abraham and placed an arm around his friend to cushion any shocks.

  Arriving at Mamre, William allowed the servants to put Abraham to bed. He sent a fast rider for the local doctor and the carriage back to town to collect Ruth.

  The doctor arrived within an hour to examine Abraham. The news was not encouraging. Abraham had a fever, and other than keeping him warm, there was little else the doctor could do for him. The doctor left various potions, which he said might help, but William held little faith in them. If his friend could fight off the fever, perhaps he would have a chance, but being an old man, William felt it would be only a matter of time before the fever would take Abraham’s life.

  William sat in the library of Mamre with a glass of brandy in his hand. The servants hadn’t been allowed to light the lamps, as he wanted to think. He was sipping his drink automatically, not tasting the fiery liquid, when the door opened and Ruth entered. He rose from his seat and felt his spirits lift at the pleasure of seeing her again.

  ‘Why are you in the dark, William?’

  ‘I have been thinking of today, and Abraham. Do you want a drink?’

  ‘Thank you, a small sherry please.’

  He poured Ruth a drink and refreshed his own.

  ‘How is he?’ he asked quietly, as he handed Ruth her drink.

  ‘Sleeping.’ Ruth sat in a chair close to the fire and watched the flames.

  William returned to his chair. ‘Do you want the lamps lit?’

  ‘No, it’s pleasant in the semi-darkness with just the fire,’ answered Ruth without turning her head.

  ‘What are your plans now, Ruth?’

  ‘Plans? I haven’t any. I’m not sure if father will get through the night.’

  ‘I think you should make plans.’

  Her head came up and she half-turned to study William. ‘He’s not dead yet!’

  ‘Ruth, you know I didn’t mean anything by my comment. I just think you should consider your future.’

  ‘With or without Father?’

  ‘I suggest you consider both possibilities.’

  Ruth sat back in the chair and stared at the fire again. ‘I am practical in most things, having always taken care of Father. Even as a young girl I often felt more mature than him.’

  William didn’t speak. Each was lost in their thoughts. It was not an embarrassed silence, but a silence of friendship and companionship. It was comforting.

  ‘Father is of a business mind and can deal with most things in business, but he would rely on me if he felt unsure about an individual. He would ask me to join him when he was not sure about someone with whom he wished to do business. If I was invited to join him and his guest for dinner, or for a few drinks here at Mamre, I knew he was in a dilemma. My presence would cause the other person to be less aggressive and I am fortunate that I have the ability to usually judge a person’s character on first meeting with them. I have made an occasional mistake, but most of the time I am correct about people. I suppose with Mother not being here for him to discuss ideas, he has relied more and more on me.’

  William nodded and sipped his drink.

  After a short time Ruth put her empty sherry glass on the small table near her chair and glanced at William. ‘So you see there are many things to consider.’

  ‘I have no doubt there are, and I don’t wish to burden you with extra problems, but …’ Before he could finish a great commotion began in the hall. They could hear wailing and shouting. William rose quickly, strode angrily to the library door and pulled it open, to be met with three crying black women.

  ‘What is all this noise about?’ William asked in a loud whisper. ‘Are you unaware your master is ill and trying to sleep?’

  The noise of wailing grew as the youngest woman tried to speak between great sobs and gasps. William felt Ruth behind him and stepped aside to allow her to see what was happening.

  ‘Calm yourself, Sarah, and tell me what is the matter.’

  ‘Ms Ruth, I been to see Mr Abraham and I tried to tidy his bedclothes and my hand touched his cheek. He didn’t move. He was cold.’

  Ruth ran up the stairs, closely followed by William. She reached the first floor landing and hurried down the corridor to her father’s bedroom. The door was still open after Sarah’s excited exit. Ruth entered and saw her father in bed, his arms on top of the bedclothes. She stopped and pressed a hand to her breast in an effort to slow her heartbeat. She moved quietly towards the bed and the still body.

  William, following, saw Ruth standing by the bed with one hand outstretched towards her father.

  ‘Ruth, wait! Allow me …’

  She turned towards William, her arm still extended. William gently touched the old man’s hand. It was icy cold. He placed his ear close to Abraham’s mouth and listened. He felt sure he could hear a slight movement of air passing. He moved his hand under the bedclothes and felt around Abraham’s chest. The body felt cold.

  ‘Please bring me a small mirror.’

  Ruth allowed her arm to drop to her side and watched her father. She glanced at William but appeared to be in a dream.

  ‘A mirror, please!’ said William, a little louder.

  ‘A mirror, yes,’ said Ruth, leaving to do William’s bidding.

  A few moments later she returned with a small hand mirror from her bedside table. She handed it to William, who wiped it on his sleeve and placed it close to Abraham’s mouth. He watched the glass as it fogged and then showed the glass to Ruth.

  ‘He is still alive,’ whispered William, and pointed to the fogged section of the mirror.

  Ruth sat on the side of the bed, covered her face with her hands and burst into tears.
William knelt and placed his arms around her in an effort to share her grief. Her hair felt like silk. Time passed and she slowly regained her composure. He removed his arms when Ruth smiled gently at him. She pulled a small handkerchief from the sleeve of her dress and dabbed her eyes.

  ‘What’ll happen to him?’ she asked.

  ‘I don’t know, Ruth, he’s very frail at the moment. He may get over the fever, but then he may not.’

  ‘What happens if he doesn’t?’

  ‘You will have a number of decisions to make.’

  ‘Will you help me?’

  ‘Yes, my love, I will help you.’

  William felt a great surge of love for Ruth. He wanted to take her in his arms and protect her from the whole world.

  ‘Can I get you a drink or something to eat?’

  ‘Thank you, William, but I couldn’t face food at the moment.’

  ‘You must eat or else you will lose your strength. You will not be able to help your father if you become ill.’

  She glanced up at William’s face and gave the ghost of a smile. ‘I suppose you are right.’

  William smiled, placed his hand under Ruth’s elbow and gently raised her from the bed. ‘We will let your father sleep. Sarah can sit with him while we have something to eat, or would you prefer to eat in here?’ William waved his hand towards the small table across the room.

  ‘In here would be nice,’ replied Ruth, smiling at William’s thoughtfulness.

  He led her to a comfortable chair and positioned it so she could see her father as he slept. ‘Sit here while I go down and speak to the servants.’

  Dinner was a sombre affair and far removed from the dinners William and Ruth usually attended. He did his best to take her mind off her father, but the occasional sigh from Abraham would interrupt their attempts at conversation. At each sigh they fell silent in case it was Abraham’s last.

  Ruth curled up on the chair and fell asleep in the knowledge that William would keep watch. He sat at the table and puffed slowly on a small cigar. The servants had not been called to clean away the remains of their meal, as Ruth didn’t want to disturb her father. William watched the ash fall from his cigar onto a small plate and thought of the night he had refused a cigar in his father’s house, because it had been produced by slave labour.