Part 3 (1/2)
”Think of it as the Royal Africa Company, risen from the ashes. Just as the capital stock of the Bank of England is the East India Company, that of the South Sea Company is the Asiento.”
”Even I know that this word Asiento is linked somehow to the Peace, but I've been terribly distracted-”
”We could not win the war-could not dislodge the grandson of Louis XIV from the Throne of Spain-but we did extract certain concessions from him. One of which was the entire right of s.h.i.+pping slaves from Africa to the New World. Mr. Harley, our Lord Treasurer, made arrangements for this Asiento to become an a.s.set, as it were, of the South Sea Company.”
”How splendid.”
”As the commerce of America grows, so the demand for slaves from Africa will grow apace with it, and so there can be no sounder investment than the Asiento, no surer foundation for a bank, for a fortune-”
”Or for a political party,” Daniel said.
Mr. Threader raised his eyebrows. Then they pa.s.sed by another vault-wagon, forcing them to keep their mouths, and even their eyes, closed for a few moments.
Mr. Threader recovered quicker, and said: ”Steam, on the other hand, sir, I would hold in very low on the other hand, sir, I would hold in very low esteem, esteem, if you'll indulge me in a spot of word-play.” if you'll indulge me in a spot of word-play.”
”It is lamentably late in this journey, and this conversation, sir, for you to be divulging this to me.”
”Divulging what, Dr. Waterhouse?”
”That you think the Earl of Lostwithiel is launching a mad enterprise, and that you believe your clients should put their money, rather, into the Asiento.”
”I shall put their money where they have directed me to put it. But I cannot help observing, that the nearly limitless coast of Africa is crowded with slaves, driven out from the interior by their more ferocious cousins, and virtually free for the picking. If I wish to pump water from a Cornish tin-mine, Dr. Waterhouse, I need not pay Mr. Newcomen to erect a frightful Engine; now that we have the Asiento, I need only send a s.h.i.+p southwards, and in a few weeks' time I shall have all the slaves I need, to pump the water out by stepping on tread-mills, or, if I prefer, to suck it out through hollow straws and spit it into the sea.”
”Englishmen are not used to seeing their mines and pastures crowded with Blackamoors toiling under the lash,” Daniel remarked.
”Whereas, steam-engines steam-engines are a are a familiar sight familiar sight!?” asked Mr. Threader triumphantly.
Daniel was overcome with tiredness and hunger, and leaned his head back with a sough, feeling that only a miracle could get him out of this conversation whole. At the same moment, they arrived at the Fleet Bridge. They turned right and began back-tracking westwards, since the driver had over-shot their destination. Daniel, who, as always, had a view out the rear window of the vehicle, was confronted suddenly by the astonis.h.i.+ng sight of a colossal stone egg rising up out of the street less than half a mile away, reigning over the low buildings of London like a Khan over a million serfs. This was by a wide margin the largest building Daniel had ever seen, and something about it replenished his energies.
”Nothing about the English landscape is forever fixed. Just as you have probably grown used to the presence of that Dome,” Daniel said, nodding down Fleet to St. Paul's, and obliging Mr. Threader to turn around and rediscover it, ”we might grow accustomed to mult.i.tudes of black slaves, or steam-engines, or both. I speculate that the character character of England is more constant. And I flatter us by a.s.serting, furthermore, that of England is more constant. And I flatter us by a.s.serting, furthermore, that ingenuity ingenuity is a more essential element of that character than is a more essential element of that character than cruelty cruelty. Steam-engines, being a product of the former virtue, are easier to reconcile with the English scene than slavery, which is a product of the latter vice. Accordingly, if I had money to bet, I'd bet it on steam-engines.”
”But slaves work work and steam-engines and steam-engines don't don't!”
”But slaves can stop stop working. Steam-engines, once Mr. Newcomen has got them going, can never stop, because unlike slaves, they do not have free will.” working. Steam-engines, once Mr. Newcomen has got them going, can never stop, because unlike slaves, they do not have free will.”
”But how is an ordinary investor to match your level of confidence, Dr. Waterhouse?”
”By looking at that, that,” Daniel answered, nodding at St. Paul's, ”and noting that it does not fall down. Go and examine its arches, Mr. Threader, and you will see that they are in the shape of parabolas. Sir Christopher Wren made them thus, on the advice of Hooke; for Hooke shewed that it should be so.”
”You have quite wandered away from me. It is an excellent church. I see no connection to steam-engines.”
”Both church-domes and engines are subject to physical laws, which are, in turn, amenable to mathematickal calculations; and we know the laws,” Daniel announced. ”It is at least as well-founded as what you do for a living.”
They had come to a halt before the mouse-hole in the north side of Fleet Street that led to Crane Court. The driver maneuvered his team into it, giving directions to the other drivers that the baggage-cart alone should follow; the remainder of the train, consisting by this point of two large carriages and a second baggage-wain, were to remain in Fleet Street, and to get themselves turned around and aimed in the direction of Ludgate.
Getting the horses, their tack, and the carriage to pa.s.s through that archway was a bit like funneling a model s.h.i.+p, rigging a-luff, through the neck of a jug. At one point they drew to a full stop and Daniel, glancing out a side-window, found himself within kissing range of a pedestrian-gawky, post-smallpox, perhaps thirty years of age-whose advance down Fleet Street had been barred by all of Mr. Threader's maneuvers. This fellow, who affected a ratty horse-hair wig, and who carried a smoky lanthorn in one hand and a staff in the other, peered in on them with frank curiosity that Mr. Threader found unseemly. ”Go to, go to, sirrah, we are no concern of the Watch!”
The carriage moved forward into the narrow cul-de-sac of Crane Court.
”One of the Royal Society's new neighbors?” Daniel asked.
”That watchman? No, I should think not!”
”Each inhabitant is supposed to take his turn on the Watch,” Daniel said pedantically, ”and so I a.s.sumed...”
”That was twenty years ago when the Act was pa.s.sed,” Mr. Threader returned, sorrowful over Daniel's naivete. ”It has become the practice for householders to pool a bit of money and pay some fellow-usually some caitiff from Southwark-to do the ch.o.r.e in their stead. As you encountered him this evening, so shall you every every evening, unless you have the good fortune to pa.s.s by while he is in Pub.” evening, unless you have the good fortune to pa.s.s by while he is in Pub.”
Still they were making their way, tentatively, down Crane Court. Once they had squeezed through the entrance, it had broadened slightly, to the point where two oncoming carriages might sc.r.a.pe past each other.
”I rather thought we should be leaving you off at the home of some distinguished Fellow,” said the bemused Mr. Threader. ”I say, you're not on the outs with them, are you?” he jested, trying to terminate their journey on a jolly note.
I shall be soon enough. ”I have several invitations in my pocket, and mean to spend them methodically-” ”I have several invitations in my pocket, and mean to spend them methodically-”
”Like a miser with his coins!” said Mr. Threader, still trying to haul Daniel up to the level of joviality that he considered suitable upon parting; perhaps this meant he wanted to see Daniel again.
”Or a soldier with his pouch of b.a.l.l.s,” Daniel returned.
”You may add one more!”
”I beg your pardon?”
”Invitation! You must come and lodge with me for a few days, Dr. Waterhouse; I shall take it as an affront if you do not.”
Before Daniel could think of a polite way to beg off, the carriage came to a stop, and at the same moment the door was pulled open by a fellow Daniel a.s.sumed was a porter, albeit over-dressed for the job in his Sunday church-going togs. He was not a porter of the gorilla type, but rather tall, of reasonably normal proportions, perhaps forty-five years old, clean-shaven, almost gentlemanly.
”It is I,” Daniel volunteered, as this man could not seem to decide which of the two pa.s.sengers was the honored guest.
”Welcome to Crane Court, Dr. Waterhouse,” said the porter, sincerely but coolly, speaking in a French accent. ”I am Henry Arlanc, at your service.”
”A Huguenot,” muttered Mr. Threader as Henry Arlanc helped Daniel down onto the pavement.
Daniel glanced at the front of the house that formed the end of the court, but it looked just like the engravings, which was to say, very plain and simple. He turned to look back towards Fleet Street. His view was blocked by the baggage-cart, which had taken longer to negotiate the entrance, and was still fifty feet away, lumbering towards them. ”Merci,” ”Merci,” said Mr. Threader as Arlanc helped him out. said Mr. Threader as Arlanc helped him out.
Daniel moved over to one side so that he could peer between the baggage-cart and the line of house-fronts running down to Fleet. His night vision was not what it had once been, but he thought he could see the glimmer of the inquisitive watchman's lanthorn limning the arch, perhaps three hundred feet away. He was bothering someone else now, someone in a sedan chair.
The luggage wagon suddenly got much larger, as if a giant bladder had been inflated to fill the entire width of the court. Daniel had scarcely registered that impression, when it became a source of light. Then it seemed a radiant yellow fist was punching at Daniel through a curtain of iron-colored smoke. The punch was pulled long before it reached him, and collapsed and paled into an ashy cloud. But he had felt its heat on his face, and things had flown out of it and struck him. Crane Court was now enlivened by the music of faery-bells as golden coins sought out resting-places on the paving-stones, and fell in twirling parabolas onto the roof-tiles. Some of them must have been flung straight up in the air for great distances because they continued to land hard and to bounce high for several seconds after Daniel had found his own resting-place: on his a.r.s.e in the street. The court had been blocked off by a wall of smoke which now advanced to surround him; he could not see his own feet. But he could smell the smoke; it was sulfurous, unmistakenly the product of the combustion of gunpowder. Mixed in with that was a sharper chymical scent that Daniel probably could have identified if he had sniffed it in a laboratory; as it was, he had distractions.
People were calling names, including his. ”I am all right,” Daniel announced, but it sounded as if his fingers were in his ears. He got to his feet, spry as a twenty-year-old, and began working his way down the court in the direction of Fleet Street. The air was clearer nearer the ground, and he ended up walking bent nearly double, tracking his progress by the pa.s.sage of sprayed coins and other detritus under his feet. There was a kind of snow fluttering through the smoke as well: racc.o.o.n fur.
”Watchman!” Daniel shouted, ”can you hear me?”
”Yes, sir! The Marching Watch has been sent for!”
”I do not care about the Marching Watch, they are too late! I want that you should follow that sedan chair, and tell me where it goes!”
No answer came back.
Mr. Threader's voice came out of the smoke, just a few yards away. ”Watchman, follow that sedan chair and I shall give you a guinea!”