The Power and the Glory (13 page)

“How is Gertrud?” Richard asked Anne-Marie after they were seated, both to make conversation and because he was genuinely concerned.

“Not well, I'm afraid,” Anne-Marie replied. She was at the end of the table with Richard to her left, her husband to her right. “The doctors think she may have an ailment of the kidney. She's upstairs in bed but asked me to send you her regards.”

“Please send mine to her. I'm sorry she's not well.”

“We all are. Tell us,” she went on in a brighter tone, as a liveried servant began ladling out an orange seafood-based bisque from a silver tureen, “what is the news from Hingham?”

“Lizzy had a baby boy,” Richard told her. “His name is Zeke.”

“How wonderful! I am so pleased. Mother and son are doing well, I hope?”

“Very.”

“And Agee?”

“Even better,” Richard grinned.

“I can't tell you how delighted I am. Do remind me to send a bottle of our best port back with you as a gift.”

John Endicott cleared his throat. “Yes, do that, my dear; a capital notion. Our congratulations all around. Now then, Richard,” he continued, his measured tone wiping the slate clean of other topics of conversation, “before the evening wears on and we get too relaxed, I want to discuss a matter of some importance to me—a business proposition that I believe may be of some importance to you and your family as well. Will you hear me out?”

“Of course, Jack. Isn't that the reason I was invited here tonight?”

“Not the
only
reason,” Anne-Marie interjected softly.

Endicott again cleared his throat. “Yes, quite. Well, you see, I have been thinking and corresponding and what have you, and I have come to the conclusion that the interests of our two families can and should be combined to our mutual advantage. This is my proposition.”

For the next twenty minutes, while finishing off his soup and then dabbing at a plate of creamed codfish, fricassee of turnips, and sau-téed potatoes, John Endicott laid out what he saw as a unique business opportunity in opening new trade routes to the Far East. Specifically, he meant Java, going so far as to broach the possibility of opening a shipping office in Batavia under dual ownership. He had been in contact,
he said, with Dutch officials who seemed intrigued with the notion—assuming, of course, that they received a reasonable percentage of the profits.

Richard winced at that, the guile and avarice of Dutch bankers and merchants being well established in world commerce. But it was a known fact that recent military setbacks against France had weakened Holland's monopoly in the East Indies and had opened the islands to outside interests. Dutch traders had by now come to rely on those interests to replenish their coffers.

“Think on it, Richard,” Endicott urged. “A bale of cotton selling for ten dollars in Savannah now fetches twenty-three dollars in Brest and forty dollars in Saint Petersburg. Imagine what that same bale would fetch in Java and China! And imagine what Java's coffee, calicoes, nutmeg, and cinnamon would fetch in Boston on the return voyage. Less than 2 percent of American trade now goes to the Orient. That's all, Richard; 2 percent. And in that 2 percent you'll find your soon-to-be naval commander. Ah, I see that statement struck home. Yes, it's true. Reliable sources inform me that Tom Truxtun has invested a good portion of his privateering earnings in the China trade. Apparently he knows a good thing when he sees it. The question before us this evening, Richard,” he added encouragingly, as if the answer were a foregone conclusion, “is whether you and your family see it.”

“We see the opportunity,” Richard said guardedly. In truth, he was intrigued by Endicott's reference to Captain Truxtun. “My family has been considering something like this for many years. But I'm curious, Jack. Surely you have the means to do this on your own. Why do you need Cutler & Sons as a partner? And why now?”

Endicott refilled Richard's wineglass, then his own. “I'll answer your last question first. As you are aware, timing is critical in a venture such as this. If you're not among the first to get in, you're likely to be among the first to be forced out. As regards our return on investment, this is the ideal time to do what I propose, what with the Dutch losing their grip on the islands. We have perhaps two to three years to act before the window opens too far and lets everybody come rushing in. Other shipping families are not as well . . .
endowed
, shall we say. And with our own economy on the brink of disaster, they are loath to try anything new. They are paralyzed with fear and uncertainty. If we act now, we can exploit that fear and use it to our advantage. How? Simple. Fear and uncertainty minimize competition: from our fellow Americans, who have limited resources and who have become averse to risk,
and from Europeans, who are distracted by Bonaparte. We can make handsome profits, your family and mine, if we act fast, strike hard, and stay the course.

“As to my having the means,” he went on in answer to Richard's initial question, “that does not necessarily mean having the will. To do this properly we shall require larger vessels than either of us has at present. I need not tell you that large ships require large investments. To your point, yes, I can afford to make such investments. But I'd prefer to do it in equal partnership with someone who is prepared to share the risks and rewards of such an enterprise.”

“
Equal
partnership, Jack?” Richard looked incredulous. “Surely you don't believe that my family has your financial resources.”

Endicott gave him a smile that Richard took to be condescending. “No, I don't believe that, Richard. But financial resources are only part of the equation. For a business partnership to succeed, each party to the agreement must contribute a unique asset—an advantage, if you will—something that complements other assets and gives the business a better overall chance to succeed. Money is one such asset—a critical one, no doubt. But it is not the only one.”

“I'm confused, Jack. In your vision, who is contributing what assets to this proposed enterprise?”

Endicott's smile broadened. “My family will contribute the bulk of the financial investment. Exactly how much is open to discussion. For starters I propose 75 percent of the projected costs.”

“And my family? What do we contribute aside from the other 25 percent?”

“Seasoned captains and crews, which you already have. And guns.”

“
Guns?”

“Yes, Richard, guns. Ships' cannon. As you know from your own experience, pirates are the biggest threat to this venture. Muslim pirates, the same sort you encountered in Barbary. We cannot allow our ships to sail into Eastern waters unarmed. Every ship of the Dutch East India Company, for example, is armed to the teeth. Ours must be too.”

Richard understood what Endicott was saying. Every Boston mercantile family was aware that Muslim pirates were the major threat to shipping in Far Eastern waters. They were a particularly vicious lot, especially those lurking in and around the Malacca Strait. No European power, including Holland, had significant naval forces in the South China Sea. Which is why every maritime nation armed every merchant ship bound for the Orient.

“That's all well and good, Jack. But how do you propose that we procure these guns?”

“That's where you come in, Richard. That's your asset—your advantage, if you will. You are a naval officer. You have contacts with our military. You can secure the guns we need even as you serve our country.”

Richard chuckled. “You jest, Jack. I can't do that. Frigate captains are having enough trouble securing guns for warships. What clout would I have, as a mere lieutenant, seeking guns for commercial use?”

Endicott beamed. “The same sort of clout you used as the mere master of a merchant schooner to arm your vessel and defeat the Barbary pirates. You got the job done then, Richard, and I have every confidence you can get the job done now.”

Richard had no immediate reply. He looked hard at Endicott, who regarded him just as keenly over the rim of his wineglass. “This is all quite fascinating, Jack,” he said at length. “But I'm really not the one you should be talking to. My father and Caleb are managing Cutler & Sons now. In a few weeks I'll be on sea duty for an indefinite period. There's not much I can do along those lines while I'm away.”

“Ah, we have arrived at the crux of the matter,” Endicott said, somewhat mysteriously. He had a calculating glint in his eye as he continued. “In fact, there is a great deal you can do, Richard, starting as early as tomorrow. You are the only member of your family who can secure the guns we need for our enterprise. In addition, you are the only one who can convince your father to undertake the business opportunities we are discussing. That's what we must do, isn't it? Convince him?” Endicott held Richard's gaze as he casually twirled the stem of his wineglass between his fingers. “In doing that, you will be serving us both.” Richard mistook the meaning of “us both” until Endicott flicked his gaze over to Anne-Marie. “I admire your father,” he went on, his gaze resting once again on Richard. “Truly I do. Why else would I seek him as a partner in what could be the most promising business venture of my life? But when it comes to matters of commerce, I have observed him to be, perhaps, overly cautious and unable to see the opportunity staring him in the face. To put it bluntly, Richard—and I mean no offense in saying this—I am hoping that your . . . prior relationship with my wife and the affection you still hold for each other might persuade you to make a rather convincing argument.”

“I see,” said Richard softly. He glanced over at Anne-Marie, who looked steadfastly down at her plate, a muscle twitching in her jaw the only sign of her distress.

The evening wore on for another thirty minutes, much of the conversation forced, as though what had to be said had been said and the three of them were compelled for decorum's sake to carry on for an interval of small talk. When the Gütlin clock on the mantel chimed ten times, Richard excused himself and bade his hosts goodnight.

“I hope you're not angry with Jack,” Anne-Marie said with concern after she alone had walked him to the front door. She handed him the bottle of aged port her husband had summoned from the basement as a gift for Agreen and Lizzy. “He was a bit forward this evening. That's just his way, I'm afraid. He did speak the truth when he said how much he admires your father. You must believe that, if nothing else. It's just that he wants so very much for his vision to succeed.”

“Is it what you want, Anne-Marie?”

She lowered her eyes. “Yes, Richard, it is.”

“Why?” he half-whispered.

When she lifted her eyes to his, he had his answer. Feeling himself coming undone, he buttoned up his overcoat and took his tricorne hat off the rack. “I promised Jack that my family will give his proposal a fair hearing,” he said in a business-like tone. “I intend to keep my promise. Give us time to consider what's involved, and we'll see where we go from there.” He turned to open the door.

“Richard?”

He turned back.

She took his hat from him and placed it just so on his head. Her voice was low, her tone earnest. About her was a heart-touching look of profound concern. “I won't see you again before you sail for Baltimore. So I must say this now: be careful, Richard. I beg you. Be careful. Come home safely. To Katherine. To your children and your family. To all those who dearly love you.” She brought her lips to his and kissed him, her mouth opening briefly, suggestively, before she pulled herself away. She stepped aside and opened the door for him.

“Go with God, Richard,” he heard her call out softly as he made his way through the feeble yellow glow of whale oil lamplight on Mount Vernon Street. He had an urge to look back but forced himself to keep walking down Belknap Street toward Beacon Street, and on to the harbor beyond.

THE NEXT MORNING found Richard at Long Wharf in consultation with George Hunt. A northeasterly wind pelted the city of Boston with a wintry mixture of sleet and rain that swept in gray veils across the harbor and made dockside loading and unloading a miserable affair. Such inclemency was more a nuisance than a hazard, however, and Richard remained determined to sail to Hingham that afternoon after he had reviewed the monthly accounts with Hunt and arranged to have
Elizabeth
made ready to convey him, his father, and brother to Baltimore two weeks hence.

Hunt arched his eyebrows.

“Your father and Caleb are sailing with you?”

“Yes. They want to visit Baltimore, and I'm betting they'll like what they see. I certainly did.”

“I take it that Caleb will be involved in the decision to open a shipping office there.”

“Yes. He must be. My father is relying on him to learn the ropes and assume responsibility wherever he can. Later this year, Caleb will sail to Barbados to visit with John and Robin.”

“I'm glad to hear it. I'm impressed with your brother, Mr. Cutler. He's a fine young man, eager to learn. And he seems to have your father's business instincts. Though I must say, I shall sorely miss
your
counsel whilst you're away.”

“Thank you, George. The feeling is mutual. And don't worry. I doubt I'll be gone long. For the life of me, I can't understand why the French are courting war with us. I have to believe that, ultimately, common sense will prevail in Paris. When it does, I'll be back here pestering you as if I'd never been away. I'll make you wish I had never come back.”

“Oh no, Mr. Cutler,” Hunt said emphatically, as though Richard had meant what he had said. “That could never happen.”