feet in
height and nearly as wide, with massive shoulders and skin the smooth ebony color of brewed coffee.
The son of slaves brought to England a generation before, St. Jean was a native-born English freeman.
He had been educated as a son of the household in which his parents had once served, and had
matriculated at Cambridge. There, he had been recruited by Wessex's own master, and was one of the
few of Wessex's fellow politicals with whom the Duke maintained a public relationship, for St. Jean's
intelligence-garnering was of necessity confined to domestic soil, though through his startling talent for
impersonation, he could take on a dozen parts and play them out flawlessly, from Limehouse slavey to
emigré Marquis.
Wessex had been introduced to St Jean for the first time more than a year ago, when his own duties had
been focused more on the sifting of gathered intelligence and less upon the gathering of it. Since then,
Baron Misbourne had decreed that Wessex must be withdrawn from the field, for on his last dangerous
mission to France, Wessex's face had become too well known in high places. It had been something of a
relief to move upward from the strictly-enforced ignorance of a field agent to mastery of more of the inner
workings of the White Tower Group.
"I've come to give you the word about some gentlemen that you may meet this afternoon. Lord White—"
(this was the albino Misbourne's work-name, in the event he must be spoken of outside the walls of the
house on Bond Street) "—has received intelligence that trouble is brewing in the Colonies, and you will
be in the company of many of the New Albion lords to-day."
"Trouble is always brewing in the West," Wessex answered. Wessex had only made a few brief visits to
the New Albion colonies over the past ten years, and had never been briefed in-depth upon Albionese
political affairs, though he knew in the most general way that the Tower was active there. "Devil take it,
St. Jean, have you nothing more specific for me on this day of all days man a watching brief?"
St. Jean bent to retrieve his drink. The crystal tumbler was dwarfed by the size of his enormous hand.
"Only that you must pay attention to the Albionese lords today—who they speak to, and who speaks to
them. Now that they must pay for the labor they once exacted as of right, the plantations, especially those
in Virginia and the Carolinas that border on French Louisianne, complain that they will be bankrupt Lord
White is concerned that this talk may become open rebellion, which we cannot afford while the Tyrant
holds Europe."
"They are squeezed very hard," Wessex commented. "With the Mississippi and the Port of
Nouvelle-Orléans closed to England these past four years, the cost of shipping their goods out of an
Atlantic port doubles their costs. Still, I find it hard to sympathize with their distress that slavery has
ended. Men are not cattle to be bought and sold."
The matter of pan-British abolition—for French and Spanish interests in the New World were still a
ready market for slaves even today—had preoccupied Parliament for almost twenty years. Since 1772
there had been no slavery in England herself, and any slave brought to England was manumitted with his
first step onto English soil. By 1778, this was true of all four of the United Kingdoms.
The Abolitionists, led by, among others, Olaudah Equiano of Cambridgeshire, himself once a slave, drew
their membership from every level of society. Even King Henry himself had spoken in their favor, and at
last the tide of special interest had turned. In March of this year, the King had been able to put his
imprimatur upon the bill put forward by William Wilberforce to abolish in all its particulars the slave trade
in Britain and her New World dominions—including Prince Rupert's Land and New Albion—as well.
No longer would British ships lawfully carry a human cargo to foreign ports, nor would any Englishman
be
height and nearly as wide, with massive shoulders and skin the smooth ebony color of brewed coffee.
The son of slaves brought to England a generation before, St. Jean was a native-born English freeman.
He had been educated as a son of the household in which his parents had once served, and had
matriculated at Cambridge. There, he had been recruited by Wessex's own master, and was one of the
few of Wessex's fellow politicals with whom the Duke maintained a public relationship, for St. Jean's
intelligence-garnering was of necessity confined to domestic soil, though through his startling talent for
impersonation, he could take on a dozen parts and play them out flawlessly, from Limehouse slavey to
emigré Marquis.
Wessex had been introduced to St Jean for the first time more than a year ago, when his own duties had
been focused more on the sifting of gathered intelligence and less upon the gathering of it. Since then,
Baron Misbourne had decreed that Wessex must be withdrawn from the field, for on his last dangerous
mission to France, Wessex's face had become too well known in high places. It had been something of a
relief to move upward from the strictly-enforced ignorance of a field agent to mastery of more of the inner
workings of the White Tower Group.
"I've come to give you the word about some gentlemen that you may meet this afternoon. Lord White—"
(this was the albino Misbourne's work-name, in the event he must be spoken of outside the walls of the
house on Bond Street) "—has received intelligence that trouble is brewing in the Colonies, and you will
be in the company of many of the New Albion lords to-day."
"Trouble is always brewing in the West," Wessex answered. Wessex had only made a few brief visits to
the New Albion colonies over the past ten years, and had never been briefed in-depth upon Albionese
political affairs, though he knew in the most general way that the Tower was active there. "Devil take it,
St. Jean, have you nothing more specific for me on this day of all days man a watching brief?"
St. Jean bent to retrieve his drink. The crystal tumbler was dwarfed by the size of his enormous hand.
"Only that you must pay attention to the Albionese lords today—who they speak to, and who speaks to
them. Now that they must pay for the labor they once exacted as of right, the plantations, especially those
in Virginia and the Carolinas that border on French Louisianne, complain that they will be bankrupt Lord
White is concerned that this talk may become open rebellion, which we cannot afford while the Tyrant
holds Europe."
"They are squeezed very hard," Wessex commented. "With the Mississippi and the Port of
Nouvelle-Orléans closed to England these past four years, the cost of shipping their goods out of an
Atlantic port doubles their costs. Still, I find it hard to sympathize with their distress that slavery has
ended. Men are not cattle to be bought and sold."
The matter of pan-British abolition—for French and Spanish interests in the New World were still a
ready market for slaves even today—had preoccupied Parliament for almost twenty years. Since 1772
there had been no slavery in England herself, and any slave brought to England was manumitted with his
first step onto English soil. By 1778, this was true of all four of the United Kingdoms.
The Abolitionists, led by, among others, Olaudah Equiano of Cambridgeshire, himself once a slave, drew
their membership from every level of society. Even King Henry himself had spoken in their favor, and at
last the tide of special interest had turned. In March of this year, the King had been able to put his
imprimatur upon the bill put forward by William Wilberforce to abolish in all its particulars the slave trade
in Britain and her New World dominions—including Prince Rupert's Land and New Albion—as well.
No longer would British ships lawfully carry a human cargo to foreign ports, nor would any Englishman
be
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