Triangle Trade

by Geoff Woodland

  ‘You are quite correct, George, I am sure. William didn’t mean to upset me.’

  ‘If I did, I am sorry,’ said William, turning to look at Charlotte.

  ‘Not worth falling out, William, dear. Let’s forget it ever happened.’ She smiled with her large round eyes.

  ‘Thank you,’ William said smiling and he nodded his head.

  ‘How will I be paid for the ships if you don’t have the money?’ asked George.

  ‘I will pay you interest until I have paid off the debt. I will be leaving for Boston on the Black Swan in the next few weeks, so the Swan and the two Roses can sail in convoy. The Roses will trade around the American coast and down to the West Indies. I will be away for about a year or so. On my return I will pay you the money I owe, plus interest at, say, five per cent. Of all the potential buyers, you know, you will be paid by me.’

  ‘But suppose something happens to you, heaven forbid?’ said Charlotte in a little-girl-lost voice.

  ‘I will leave instructions that the ships are to revert to father on my death, unless I pay for them beforehand. Also, if you can find a cash buyer for them before I sail, I will relinquish claim to them and you can sell to that buyer.’

  ‘That seems fair, my dear. William, I think I will sleep on it and let you know tomorrow. I assume you will stay the night and not go back to your ship?’

  ‘If you wish, Father. The Black Swan has instructions that if I am not back by midnight, they are to assume I have stayed the night.’

  ‘Then I am off to bed. I feel very tired. First, the excitement of your being home and second, I have sold the Roses. Goodnight, my dear. Goodnight, William.’

  ‘Goodnight, Father.’ William stood and placed his arms around the old man and hugged him.

  ‘Good night, George, darling,’ whispered Charlotte.

  ‘Goodnight, Charlotte, don’t keep William up too long.’

  The door closed behind the old man.

  ‘Do you know why he wishes to sell?’ asked William.

  Charlotte pushed her chair back and stood up. ‘If I knew that, I would understand him a little better. He never mentioned it to me.’

  ‘Is he well?’

  ‘He never complains about feeling ill.’

  William moved about the room, touching the furniture and letting his fingers run along the backs of the chairs. He studied the pictures on the walls, particularly one of a four-mast ship being tossed about in a wild storm.

  ‘You seem to have made a success of trading and being captain of your ship,’ said Charlotte.

  ‘I thought all I wanted was to be captain of my own ship. I now have two ships, a possible third about to join, and I have committed to buy my father’s. I can see I will spend less and less time as a ship’s captain. I can’t run a trading company from the deck of a ship. I have to put down roots.’

  ‘Roots in England?’

  ‘I am not sure at the moment.’

  ‘You will need a good woman to help you.’

  ‘I have a good woman. She’s in Boston.’

  ‘Beautiful?’

  ‘Very.’

  ‘You haven’t mentioned it to your father.’

  ‘I have been waiting for the right moment.’

  ‘Is she accompanying you on this trip?’

  ‘No, she’s in Boston, and she is waiting for me to return. Her father died recently and she couldn’t leave the business.’

  Charlotte smiled.

  ‘How is your father?’ asked William.

  ‘A quick change of subject, William. He’s fine. I am sure he would want me to pass on his best wishes to you.’

  ‘Thank you. Please reciprocate my felicitations to your mother as well.’

  ‘Hmm.’

  ‘How is Henry?’

  ‘He is at sea.’

  ‘When did he sail?’

  ‘I believe he has been away for over a year. Why do you ask?’

  ‘I heard he visited Boston. Perhaps I was mistaken.’

  ‘Yes, you must have been.’

  ‘What is your father doing, now the African trade is illegal?’

  Charlotte sucked in her breath. ‘He trades here and there. He offers a broking service and buys space on other ships and sells it to those who wish to buy. Why do you ask?’

  ‘No reason, I know Father was a partner with your father until recently, and with the current anti-slave laws, I am curious as to how your father managed the change.’

  ‘He is successful, as one would expect of my father.’

  ‘I’m sure. Well, I think I will go to bed. May I escort you to your room?’

  ‘Thank you, no. I wish to have a few words with the servants before I retire. Please don’t let me delay you.’ Charlotte moved towards the door and opened it as if about to leave. She held on to the door handle.

  At the door, William waited for Charlotte to exit the room. She didn’t, so he placed a hand on the door and pulled it gently towards him. Charlotte released her grip and allowed the door to open. She did not move.

  William was forced to pass close to Charlotte, and in doing so, breathed in her perfume. His gaze couldn’t help but pass over the exposed tops of her breasts. He stopped halfway through the doorway and stared into her eyes, ‘Goodnight, Charlotte.’

  ‘Goodnight, William,’ she replied, brushing her tongue gently over her lips. ‘I will see you in the morning.’

  ‘Until the morning,’ he answered, and pushed through the narrow gap.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  The Invitation

  It had been over a week since he had made his offer to his father to buy the two Roses. Word had quickly spread that the ships were for sale. Would anyone match or better his offer? William stamped his feet in an effort to generate some feeling in them. He and Owen stood on the small rise that dominated the turning basin into George’s Dock.

  ‘She is due in this morning.’

  ‘Owen, you have been telling me that for the past hour.’

  ‘She is regular and I am surprised she hasn’t arrived yet.’

  ‘Perhaps a contrary wind held her back.’

  Owen turned to the sound of singing that came from St Nicholas church behind where they stood. ‘I’d forgotten it is Sunday.’

  ‘See the spire on the church, Owen?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It can be seen for miles downriver. It is an excellent marker for those coming up river.’

  ‘I believe so. I am cold. She is due in this morning.’

  ‘Owen!’

  ‘Sorry, William.’

  William watched the river traffic and half-listened to the singing from the church. He found himself humming the tune of the hymn.

  ‘Owen, look.’

  Owen followed William’s gaze and saw a strange craft punching its way across the river. She was a small vessel with a paddle wheel in the middle of her hull, which gave the impression that the bow and stern were two small boats. The paddle wheel appeared to cut her in half.

  ‘She’s the Etna,’ said Owen. ‘Operates from Tranmere across to Liverpool. She is one of the new steamboats, or floating kettles, as some call her. I have seen her some days covered in so much steam that you’d think she was on fire. I heard the Poole family started the service as competition to the sailing ferry service from Birkenhead. She’s been in service a couple of months.’

  William watched the small steamboat battle her way across the river. The wind and the tide didn’t affect her progress. He felt he was watching the future unfold.

  ‘There’s the Lady Ann!’ cried Owen.

  William shielded his eyes and stared out across the river. ‘A fine ship.’

  ‘Aye, she is,’ answered Owen, hopping from one leg to the other in excitement.

  William heard someone snorting. He recognised the sound and turned to see Donald Nicholson a few feet behind.

  ‘I thought it might be you, King. Saw you as I came out of church.’

  ‘Good morning, Mr Nicholson,
how are you?’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  Turning to Owen, Nicholson asked, ‘Owen Johnston, isn’t it?’

  ‘Good morning, Mr Nicholson, you are correct. I am he.’

  ‘And what are you two taking such an interest in this cold morning?’

  ‘Watching the traffic on the river, Mr Nicholson,’ said William quickly.

  ‘William,’ snorted Donald Nicholson, ‘please don’t take me for a fool. I think you have been waiting for the arrival of the Lady Ann from Ireland. I see she is closing the bank now.’

  ‘Perhaps, Mr Nicholson.’

  ‘Perhaps, my foot. I am aware Mr Johnston bought the Lady Ann a few weeks ago. Nothing gets by me in Liverpool.’

  ‘Glad to hear it, Mr Nicholson, at least I know where to come for information,’ said William.

  ‘It has been some time since we spoke, but I remember you sailed off to America. Grand ideas, I heard, of trading to the Caribbean and not carrying slaves. Telling everyone a profit could be made by trading in non-slave commodities.’

  ‘You have a good memory, Mr Nicholson. I believe I have proved it can be done.’

  Donald Nicholson snorted again. ‘That is a matter of opinion, a matter of opinion, but all in the past. I came down to ask if you two gentlemen would honour me with your company this evening? I have invited your father, William, and Charlotte. Just a few drinks between friends.’

  William glanced at Owen and tried to read his mind.

  ‘You are included in the invitation, Mr Johnston.’

  ‘I would be very pleased to accept your kind invitation, Mr Nicholson,’ said William as he watched Owen.

  ‘And I, Mr Nicholson, will be honoured to attend.’

  ‘That’s settled, then. Well, I can’t stand here all day. Must be off. The ladies will wonder where I am.’

  ‘Goodbye, Mr Nicholson,’ chorused William and Owen.

  Owen replaced his doffed hat, and when Nicholson was out of earshot, turned to William and whispered, ‘I don’t like that man at all.’

  ‘Not many do, Owen, but don’t let him bother you.’

  The two friends stood and watched the Lady Ann as she turned to larboard in the river. She began her swing through 180 degrees to stem the flood tide. She was slowly turning to face the North Pier when a gust of wind caught her bow and halted the swing. Her sails were in the process of being hauled round to the other tack, to allow her to complete the turn, and berth. The sudden gust of wind had the effect of pushing her back from whence she came. She began to fall off. She had missed her chance to stem the tide. She was on the cusp of falling back to starboard, out of control.

  ‘She is in irons! She can’t swing either way now. He’s losing her. He’ll not have enough time to set his sails to gain control. Anchor, man, anchor!’ yelled William, unable to control his concern.

  Owen stared at the Lady Ann, and then at William’s face as he called out instructions. He knew the captain of the Lady Ann could not hear William’s shouts and, agitated, began to jump from one foot to the other.

  ‘What can we do?’ asked Owen.

  ‘Nothing but watch.’

  Suddenly the Lady Ann began to turn back towards the North Pier. She was carrying through with her original turn. The men in the yards frantically tried to reset the sails back to the original tack. Slowly she swung to larboard. William watched her captain as he bellowed orders and exhorted his crew to haul tight on the braces. She came under control of the sails as she increased the speed of her swing. William watched her complete the manoeuvre and stem the running tide, which gave her captain the control he needed to bring the Lady Ann alongside North Pier. Lines snaked out from the vessel to secure her to the land.

  Owen grabbed William’s arm and shouted, ‘Look!’ He pointed to a cloud of steam moving away from the Lady Ann.

  ‘The Etna must have pushed her bow around,’ said William in astonishment.

  Owen released his grip and stared open-mouthed at the scene on the river.

  ‘A fine ship, Owen!’

  ‘Aye, she is. Come on. As soon as she’s discharged her passengers, she will move from the pier to an anchorage in the river. The fees are cheaper than leaving her alongside.’ Owen started to run down the path to the pier.

  William watched the crew assist the passengers ashore and single the mooring lines. He kept recalling how the Etna had pushed the Lady Ann out of serious trouble. It was something to remember. He checked over the side for any damage to the Lady Ann, but apart from some scratched paintwork, she appeared to be in order. William and Owen stayed on the Lady Ann while she manoeuvered into the river and anchored off Birkenhead.

  It was obvious that the crew were well trained. They were smartly dressed in makeshift uniforms and worked with a will. The captain must have paid for some of the clothing himself. No owner would put his hand in his pocket to spend money on uniforms for his crews. William could see the pride the crew had as they went about their duties.

  On boarding, Owen had spoken to Captain Shaw and introduced William as his nautical advisor.

  While Owen stayed by the captain, William made his inspection. She was dry below decks and the hold had been whitewashed to help mask the stink of her slaving days. As with the Albatross, he used his knife to satisfy himself that she was sound. He would ask if Captain Shaw had been the captain when she sailed as a slaver.

  He heard the splash of the anchor as it hit the water and continued his inspection. He did not ask permission to enter the crew’s area in the forecastle. He wanted to see what it was like without announcing himself. It was clean and neat, a sign of regular inspections by the captain.

  On deck, he leaned back to study the masts and watched as the crew furled the sails. If the standard of maintenance of the hull and the crew’s accommodation had been carried through to the masts and sails, there was little to worry about.

  William climbed the short flight of steps to the poop deck and watched Captain Shaw salute Owen before making his way below.

  ‘She is a fine ship, Owen!’ called William as he stepped onto the deck.

  ‘Glad you think so. I visited a number before I bought the Lady Ann. I am told she is fast.’

  ‘Who told you? The previous owner, before you bought her?’ William asked with a smile.

  ‘No, Captain Shaw did, after I bought her.’

  ‘Owen, I’d like to rename her.’

  ‘Again?’ laughed Owen.

  ‘When can she sail?’

  ‘What name, William?’

  ‘Black Hawk, a bird of a different style to the Black Swan.’

  ‘Call her whatever you like, as long as she is profitable!’

  ‘She will be profitable, or else I’ll change the captain. From what I have seen, I don’t think I will have much trouble with a captain who evidently spends his own money on his crew.’

  ‘What will you use her for?’

  ‘Are you joining me, Owen?’

  ‘I suppose so, William, but if you want me to keep up with you, don’t run too fast building this trading company.’

  William smiled at his friend and offered his hand. ‘A partnership in England.’

  ‘In England?’ repeated Owen, and shook his friend’s hand.

  ‘Her use, Owen, will be on the ice trade. If not to the Caribbean, then to India!’

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Nicholson Dinner

  ‘King!’ called a voice from across the room.

  He turned and saw Henry Nicholson, and nodded his head in acknowledgment.

  Nicholson approached William. ‘What a shame, that we missed each other in Boston.’ The cruel smile never left Henry’s face.

  ‘A great shame, Henry.’

  ‘Perhaps we missed each other because I became so preoccupied with Miss Ruth Judson. A lovely woman, don’t you think?’

  William’s face drained of blood at the thought of Ruth being assaulted, even verbally, by Henry Nicholson. William realised he was being baited, and
even as a guest in Donald’s house, he felt the urge to smash the cruel smile from Henry’s face. He tensed, ready to attack.

  ‘Sir,’ interrupted a waiter offering a tray of drinks.

  ‘Thank you,’ said William, barely containing his rage. ‘Henry, don’t say another word about Miss Judson in my hearing, is that understood?’

  Henry Nicholson cracked his face into a smile and bowed his head in a mock salute. ‘Have I touched a nerve, Captain? I do hope so. Until the next time,’ and he toasted William with his glass of rum.

  William felt himself tremble in anger. Henry moved away to circulate amongst the other guests. In an effort to calm down, he sipped his drink and moved slowly around the room looking for his father. He found him deep in conversation with Charlotte, and a portly man whom he recognised as Thomas Leyland. He remembered that Leyland used to be a slave trader who had made a fortune before becoming Mayor of Liverpool. How had his father become associated with people in such circles?

  ‘William, why so much interest in Mr Leyland?’ questioned Owen, who had sauntered over to stand behind William.

  ‘Owen, you escaped from the thin-faced lady?’

  ‘No thanks to you. If you knew I’d been shanghaied, why didn’t you rescue me?’

  ‘You seemed so happy, my friend,’ laughed William.

  ‘Why are you so intent on Mr Leyland?’ asked Owen again.

  ‘Oh, just wondering what his business interests are now that the African trade has stopped.’

  ‘Banking!’

  ‘Banking?’

  ‘Yes, he and a partner, a Mr Bullin, have started a bank. They have new offices in York Street, near his old offices in Henry Street.’

  ‘Why is Father talking to him so closely?’

  ‘Perhaps he is discussing the sale of his two ships or asking advice as to their likely value.’

  ‘I don’t like the look of it!’

  As William watched, the small group parted. Charlotte moved away from her husband and glanced around the room. She saw William watching, raised her glass in a small salute, and moved towards him.

  William watched her gracefully glide across the floor. Her dress hid most of her pregnancy, so that she seemed just a little overweight. As she moved, she acknowledged people with smiles and allowed a number of men to kiss her hand in greeting. William could see how men were grateful for the small acknowledgment from Charlotte that they were still in her coterie of friends and acquaintances.