Sacred Hunger - Barry Unsworth [222]
The knowledge of all this was present to Erasmus as he sat there at his ease in the warm evening, with the land breeze bringing a scent of autumn roses, and the sound of the sea in his ears. Speculation, if not knowledge, there must have been on Campbell’s part too, as he now broke a short period of silence by saying in that softer voice he used for more deliberate speech, ‘You suggested earlier, if I am not mistaken, that we might be of some service to you. But perhaps you would prefer some later occasion to talk of it?’
‘No, no,’ Erasmus said. ‘I have no objection to discussing the matter now, none at all.’
He began to speak about the Liverpool Merchant, the delayed return, the assumed loss, the lapse of twelve years, the visit of Captain Philips, the ship as he had last seen her, grounded and abandoned. He spoke of his belief that the mutineers and the remnants of the negroes had survived and the possibility they had continued living together in the wilds of south Florida. ‘Life would be possible there for a small number and they had women with them,’ he said. He had not mentioned his cousin. ‘It is my intention to pursue these men and bring them to account. I know I can count upon your help as the newly invested Governor. These men have formed a colony of criminals within His Majesty’s Colony of Florida and they must be rooted out and punished with the law.’
A short silence succeeded this. Then Campbell said, ‘You are speaking of a company of renegade whites and runaway negroes beached up in south Florida twelve years ago. Sir, the times have been violent. They are most likely to be dead or scattered long ago.’
‘It is the violence of the times that affords me reason. It is obvious that they did not plan to escape by sea. And the overland route northwards would have been difficult, extremely so, with the Spanish here and the tribes hostile. Their safety would have been in keeping together. They had blood on their hands, if I am right. Where were they to make for?’ He had spoken with confidence but as the silence continued he felt a touch of panic. These were men of experience. He had not realized until now how much he wanted his reasoning to prevail with them. ‘Then there are the stories that the Indians tell,’ he said, into the silence. ‘They talk of a community of black and white living in the south part of the peninsula.’
‘I have heard of no such community,’ Campbell said. ‘The evidence for it seems slight to me, sir.’
This brought a welcome anger. Scepticism from such a quarter was only to be expected – it afforded the best excuse for denying help. ‘I have judged the evidence sufficient,’ he said coldly. ‘I have given you full and adequate reason. I am the one who is injured in this. I have the same right to redress here as I would anywhere else within His Majesty’s dominions. Those negroes who were on the ship originally and any offspring they may have had subsequent to their escape are mine by right of purchase.’
‘Speaking of those same negroes …’ Redwood had leaned forward and was regarding him with a look of good-humoured curiosity. ‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘did it never occur to you that the negroes might have risen against the crew and killed them? Such rebellions have been frequent enough on slaveships – more frequent than mutinies. In that case, none of the seamen would have survived and the blacks might have made south for the Keys. I don’t say this is what happened but I am surprised that you do not think of it as the first possibility.’
The question took Erasmus completely by surprise. He returned the major’s gaze for some moments without being able to think of an answer. He did not like the expression of curiosity