Sacred Hunger - Barry Unsworth [78]
It seemed that Kemp had also laid out money to finance a dyeworks in Warrington, in an attempt to find faster dyes. It was Partridge’s general view, expressed in spidery writing and with all his customary discretion of phrase, that Kemp’s resources were stretched, perhaps dangerously, but that he might have private means (outside the scope of the present enquiry though open to investigation at a renewed fee if required), which might be enough to carry him through to the upturn in the cotton trade confidently expected on all sides.
Wolpert mused on this awhile. He saw in it no great cause for alarm, certainly no grounds for suspicion. If Kemp could wait, he might do very well. Legislation was under way to impose tariffs on Indian cottons and protect the home industry. The bill might be delayed – there were powerful interests opposed to it; but it would go through. Newcastle was for it and he would play the patriotic card in the House. With Indian competition choked off, there would be big profits for local dealers. Kemp might be short of ready money. He had built and outfitted the Liverpool Merchant on notes of hand at eighteen months’ date, through merchant houses in Warrington and Preston – a total of some twelve thousand pounds by Partridge’s computation. But this was common practice, especially in slaving enterprises; even banks were ready to offer credit to slavers these days, for the sake of the high interest.
It was a kind of investment that made no appeal to the cautious Wolpert. He sometimes made use of ships returning from the West Indies to carry his freight, but trading in slaves was too risky. Rewards were high, of course, on a prosperous voyage; Kemp stood to recover his twelve thousand and make as much again in net profit – and that within the year.
It came to him now that he knew very little about Kemp, though they had been acquainted for more than twenty years. A good man in company, fond of a glass, shrewd enough to all appearance, though too flamboyant and hasty for some, with those flushed good looks and that habit of eager gesture. Something extreme in him, a tendency to excess. In the son it was more pronounced, almost fanatical. The merchant still remembered the young man’s statement of love and intention – he had thought it enough to make his wishes plain – and the blaze of his eyes on being rebuffed. Too much pride there, not enough sense of other people. But that would be supplied by commercial dealing, the best school there was for a study of human nature, so Wolpert thought. Erasmus would not make such a bad son-in-law, if it came to it. He had energy and determination, more of both than his own son. Charles had a good manner and a proper sense of occasion, but he showed small aptitude for decision. He was obstinate though, which was something different. Wolpert sighed. The boy could not be budged on the matter of this actor fellow who was badgering the maids, drinking his way through the wine-cellar and wearying his host each supper-time with chatter about the theatre. I would give something to be rid of that fellow, Wolpert thought. He couldn’t himself say much because he had discovered that the whole thing was in honour of his sixtieth birthday, due the following month …
TWENTY-TWO
The Liverpool Merchant had crossed the latitude of Capo Blanco and was making steady way south-westward towards the Cape Verde Islands. As the air grew more languid, preparations for accommodating the negroes grew the more brisk. Men were set to work splicing the hawsers for a long anchorage and serving the ropes of the longboat; the hold was rummaged to make space between decks; the open woodwork of cross-battens and ledges that formed the covers of the hatchways had to be raised so as to give more light and air to the lower decks. The carpenter’s name was Barber and he had picked out Blair and Sullivan to help him with the gratings; it was customary now to employ these two together.
‘Well,’ Sullivan said, squatting