Chapter Seven
With his plausible manner and good appearance, Bertram Harris had been able for some years to make a career of living off other people’s money.
His proposal to the Earl of Doncaster was his most ambitious venture yet.
Contrary to what he had led his lordship to believe, he had never been agent for a project that required sailing to West Africa and thence to the Antilles.
The farthest he had gone over the years was to Europe, where he had acted as agent for a number of gentlemen.
Having managed to get himself invited to the club of which the Earl was a member, it was by dropping their names that he had managed to convince him that he could represent him in the lucrative triangle trade of slaves and sugar.
The loan having been arranged, Mr. Harris left for Bristol, where banking facilities had been set up for the purchase and fitting out of a ship, and the purchase of iron bars or other products easily exchanged in Africa.
As soon as he got there, he withdrew a large amount in cash, and bought himself a whole wardrobe of clothing suitable for the tropics.
It was nearly a month before he wrote to his lordship.
Following your instructions, I spent a good deal of time searching for a ship suitable for your lordship’s purpose.
I was lucky enough to find a trim craft called The Mary Jane.
She is new-built, with portholes in the hold, to allow beneficial sea-breezes to reach the persons traveling there.
Her captain is experienced with the trade and has a handy crew ready to set sail as soon as she’s outfitted.
There has, unfortunately, been a delay in procuring a cargo of iron of sufficient quality.
But the matter is now in hand, and I anticipate leaving for the Guinea Coast by the end of April.
Mr. Harris forbore to explain that after the heady period of outfitting himself with all the accoutrements necessary for the gentleman abroad, including a box of silver-topped jars containing unguents of all sorts, and a fine tantalus with gold fittings, the delay had in fact been caused by the fact he was dead drunk for days on end.
Instead of doing the rounds of the chandlers and shipping merchants, he had lain on his bed in a more luxurious inn than he would ever have chosen if he were spending his own money, ringing the bell for service.
The maid wouldn’t go near him after the first day, when he had offered her money for “special services.” She refused in tears, saying, I’m a good girl and I don’t want no one, not even a gen’lman, laying a finger on me, that I don’t.
Mr. Harris had laughed at that, saying if she knew how much blunt he had, she’d change her tune quick enough.
When she reported this to the boot boy, he saw an opportunity, and thereafter provided the client with whatever services he required, from a wench who wasn’t too particular, to jugs of porter and pies and peas from the shop around the corner.
Having enjoyed a holiday at his lordship’s expense, the agent set sail for West Africa, only six weeks later than had been anticipated.
Never having been involved in this trade before, he little thought how delays at this point would put him at a disadvantage later.
However, for this part of the journey, the seas were calm and the winds fair, and he disembarked in the port of Lagos only a month later, at the end of May, well-pleased with himself.
Once arrived in the heat and clamor of Africa, he turned the whole business over to an agent, and spent several more weeks drinking and lazing the days away while the ship was provisioned and the human cargo loaded.
They set sail near the end of June, and arrived in Jamaica two months later.
Mr. Harris spent the whole trip on the quarterdeck or in a private cabin, located in the ship's stern. He dined with the captain every night, and with nothing to do but lie in the shade with a bottle, listening to the wind in the sheets and the sound of the ship scudding through the waves, he felt he had at last been granted his heart’s desire.
The port of Kingston was a hive of activity, which Mr. Harris, accustomed to the pleasurable emptiness of his days, was unprepared for.
He was dismayed to find that, following an order by the Assembly of Jamaica in 1792, sales had to occur onshore, and not on the ship.
The captain of The Mary Jane was therefore not able, as he had previously told Mr. Harris, to take on the dispersal of the human cargo.
But, for a fee, he would put him in touch with a factor well able to complete the task.
Mr. Harris had spent his adult life earning fees for this service and that, and didn’t blame the fellow for wanting him to grease his palm.
Besides, it wasn’t his money he was spending.
The fine linen suit and straw hat he had bought in Bristol were just the thing.
Though lines of dissipation were beginning to appear on his face, and his waist had a definite bulge, he looked every inch the English gentleman as he left The Mary Jane to complete the business before him.
He was tall, blond and good-looking and his long days on the shady deck had given a fine glow to his complexion.
But if the factor thought that such a swell would be an easy man to swindle, he soon saw his mistake.
This is where Mr. Harris was at his best. His whole career had been based on his ability to size up the other man.
After the initial skirmishes, the business was speedily concluded.
The factor would organize the sale for 3% of the gross (he had wanted 5%), and would, furthermore, handle the purchase of sugar and the refitting of The Mary Jane for her return voyage.
“You’ll want to be pushing off pretty quick,” he said, “It’s the beginning of hurricane season. I wouldn’t hang around, if I were you.”
“A couple of weeks won’t make any difference, surely,” said Mr. Harris. “I’ve been two months on the ship and I need to feel the land under me for a bit.”
The factor shrugged. “Your decision, of course, but I wouldn’t wait too long,” he said.
Mr. Harris nodded and immediately forgot all about it.
He took himself into town, delighted to be able once again to hand over the real work to someone else.
Kingston was thriving. Though the streets were unpaved and sandy, they were thronging with horse-drawn carts and drays carrying goods from all parts of the world.
The houses were mostly two-story structures with verandas painted in green and white.
He quickly found himself a good hotel, and since the white man was at the top of the social ladder, and he was clearly one with money, he was welcomed like a prince.
The food was exotic and delicious, the rum plentiful, and the women willing.
Thus he passed another month very pleasantly.
When next he saw the factor, he was delighted to hear that all was ready and The Mary Jane could set sail any day.
“There is just the question of insurance,” said the agent. “It’s damned expensive, but I do have a suggestion…”
It being a question of saving serious money, this time Mr. Harris listened with all his attention.
The Mary Jane set sail for Bristol from Kingston the first week of September.
No one aboard or on land was to know that thunderstorms a few degrees south of the equator had created the perfect conditions for a tropical depression.
In due course, its rotating winds would develop into a full-fledged hurricane and barrel down onto the islands of the Greater Antilles.
It would give no quarter to those aboard the sailboat called The Mary Jane, merrily plying its way to England.