Alger breathed deeply in the crisp nighttime air, composed himself, andwalked back inside the giant house which sat in the middle of the Livingstonestate. Oliver Livingston, the chairman of the Merseyside Trading Company's boardof directors, was a very rich man who did not shy away from flaunting hiswealth. He often hosted long and drawn-out board meetings that were more akinto parties. While the slave trade in Liverpool was booming despite growingabolitionist pressure on government policies, men like Oliver Livingston andhis son, Elijah, who had invested heavily in the acquisition and sale ofAfrican people to the New World colonies, were proving just how profitablehuman trafficking could still be. Spain's deteriorating treasure fleet showedno signs of a rebound as gold supplies continued to shrink to internal andexternal theft, ships lost at sea and dwindling mine yields. Plantations werethe new way to make money in the Americas and Caribbean islands with coffee, cocoa,tobacco and cotton all found heavy demand from Europe, but one commodity hadbecome so profitable that it threatened to replace gold as the most preciousimport from the western hemisphere
The growth and cultivation of sugarcane required extensive and back-breaking manual labor, beginning with the clearing of land, installation of irrigation systems and constant management of crops. In order to keep a steady and uninterrupted supply of sugar shipments, many aspects of the process had to be in top working order. Ships had to be built and properly maintained to keep logistical losses at a minimum, plantations had to be erected as quickly as possible to quickly grow crops, and many, many people were required to work those crops. While there was no shortage of people willing to build a better life for themselves by finding gainful employment in the New World, the problem was that they did not work for free, and plantation owners preferred to keep overhead costs as cheap as possible.
"Enter Oliver Livingston," Alger muttered as the aging entrepreneur sat down at the head of the giant dinner table, followed in by a procession of well-dressed African slaves carrying large platters of veal, pork, beef, lamb, venison, fowl, fish and a variety of soups, pudding, bread, and vegetables. There was too much food for the eight board members to put a dent in, even with the extra guests comprising Livingston's inner circle of friends and their own plus ones. Alger sat through the same vapid but mercifully short speech Oliver Livingston always made before spoons, knives, and forks were lifted from their carefully-laid placements. He declined the offered wine and ate little, his general distaste for the pomp and circumstance stifling his appetite. This was supposed to be a simple business meeting and he had arrived hours ago. Alger preferred to spend as little time on the estate as possible and he knew Oliver Livingston detested him as well. Alger Sr.'s progeny was the black sheep of MSTC's management, the youngest and most progressive thinking member, making him a hindrance to the older men's status quo attitudes. Alger's pride added to his precarious position, one that would continue to deteriorate if England's current social climate didn't change swiftly enough. He spoke little and listened in to the conversations going on around him with an aloof politeness.
"I just cannot fathom why this new group of idiots running France would not only allow such an unnecessary upheaval but endorse rebels fighting against their own kind."
"Ugh, are we to go on about this again? I've had quite enough of discussing the French and their eccentricities."
"It makes no sense! They hold a veritable gold mine in Saint Domingue. The wealth that they have created in their plantations are the envy of the world. And they decide to just...throw it away. Just like that. And for what?"
"They didn't throw it away. The whole thing was a mistake. When the rulers of the republic drafted their dubious Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen, they failed to specify that it only applied to the actual citizens within France. And I mean the citizens, not their imports."
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Muddied Waters - Coda
Ficção HistóricaYears after pillaging the Nossa Senhora Do Abismo, ex-pirate Jackson Teague continues to struggle with the costly fallout from the ill-fated galleon's bounty. Half a world away, a grownup Alger Moore finds equal difficulty in reconciling their share...