Chapter 20: Infraestructure

The next day Carlos let Francisco off the hook from working in the house, but Francisco still woke up at 6:00 a.m. to accompany his father. His biological clock has already adapted to the new routine, so it didn’t matter if he could sleep more or not.

After breakfast he took Catalina to Villa de Medellín. Taking into account her place in his heart, Francisco tried to make her his assistant. Together they went to the master builder.

“You are Gómez, right?” asked the master builder. “What do you need? I must tell you beforehand that I have a lot of work. If you want a house or something like that, it may take months.”

“I need three buildings, and I’m willing to pay double the price if you work on them first,” said Francisco.

“Boy, I have enough work for the next months,” replied the master builder with a little disdain. “Antioquía is developing quietly, but still I have enough. Why would I risk offending my clients just for more money?”

“Maybe because if I can’t reach a deal with you, I may be forced to hire a master builder from Bogotá,” said Francisco, pressuring him. “If he also sees there is plenty of work here, maybe he stays. Also, you should know that many people think Bogotá builders are better than those from anywhere else. After all, the viceroy lives there. And how many of your clients can afford to hire one from Bogotá? If you take my job first, most of them would accept it.”

“If that’s the case, why don’t you hire one right now? Why come to me at all?” sneered the master builder.

“Because going to Bogotá — or even sending a letter — takes at least fifteen days one way,” Francisco explained without flinching. “Then I’d need to find a builder willing to come, probably someone with less work. After that, wait for him to prepare and return. It would take at least two months, and the cost might not be much less than what I’d pay you. On the other hand, if I pay you double, you can start construction right away. In two months, what I need may already be finished.”

“So in the end, it’s just convenience,” the master builder muttered. After thinking for a while, he added, “I like your honesty, and I also need money. A lot of high-class people like to delay their payments, and many of them have ties with the Church or the Crown, which makes collecting debts difficult. If you pay me upfront, I’ll accept the job. That way I also have an excuse to tell my other clients why their projects must wait.”

“No problem,” said Francisco. His father never liked owing money — perhaps it was part of his pragmatic spirit. “But you must guarantee the quality of the constructions.”

“That’s fine. So, tell me: what do you need to build?” asked the master builder, now curious.

“A lot,” Francisco said, taking out his notes. “First, the forge house.” He went over the list of materials and requirements the blacksmiths had given him. “Then, three big houses — one for each blacksmith’s family, with enough room for a couple of apprentices. And finally, this can be left for later: a large building, well-ventilated, with space to line up several machines one behind the other. I’m thinking strong brick pillars with lime, some iron beams, and stone flooring. Rectangular, up to three floors, thirty meters long, and with wide windows for illumination.”

The master builder frowned, raising his eyebrows. “Wait, boy — are you building a palace? That doesn’t make sense. Why do you need something like that?”

“I obtained permission from the Crown to make my own alcohol,” Francisco answered calmly. “I heard that in England this kind of building is relatively common. I think they use it for textiles, but I want to try it with alcohol.” He remembered that in 1769 Richard Arkwright had built the first modern factory — with that precedent, his plan should pass scrutiny. He would simply be the first to do it for spirits.

“I see,” the builder said slowly. “It still looks like a waste of money to me, but it’s your choice. Let’s calculate the costs.”

He scribbled numbers on a piece of paper. “The forge house: two hundred pesos, doubled makes four hundred — including materials. The blacksmith houses: normally eighty pesos each. Doubled, that’s one hundred sixty. For three, four hundred eighty — but let’s round it down to four hundred fifty. Now, the big building… at least six hundred pesos. Doubled, it’s twelve hundred, but I’ll leave it at one thousand. Altogether, that’s one thousand eight hundred fifty pesos.”

“Fine,” said Francisco. “When can you start? That’s the most important part. And remember, I want good quality.”

“I’ll send workers tomorrow to begin foundations,” the builder said. “But I need the money first. Suppliers won’t offer materials on credit at least not for me anymore.”

“No problem,” said Francisco. “When I go back to the estate, I’ll send some servants with the money. Also, I have a question — more of a future endeavor. I want to build a stone road from the estate to Villa de Medellín. How much do you think it would cost?”

He already knew that to make oneself rich, a good quality road was essential. Still, he would wait until the alcohol factory began producing before reinvesting.

“That’s not easy,” the master builder replied, frowning. “The main problem is ownership. If the road is entirely within your lands, it’s no problem. But once it leaves them, the townhall may force it to become public. Before thinking about costs, I recommend you talk with the mayor and reach some kind of deal.”

“I don’t really care if it becomes public,” said Francisco after a pause. “I read in a book that to make yourself rich, you need to build roads first. If I can use it, that’s enough.”

“A nice phrase,” the builder admitted, “but not realistic. You shouldn’t just donate a road without asking for guarantees. I’m certain you want it for your alcohol — to move it from your estate to villa medellin then Cartagena de Indias and then to Europe. So imagine you spend all that money, and later the neighboring estates and farms use it freely, then block your passage. Wouldn’t that ruin your intentions?”

“That’s true,” Francisco admitted. “I’d be furious if I spent money on a road and couldn’t even use it.” He thought for a moment. “Then I’ll go speak with the mayor. But I still need to know how much it would cost, to have more leverage in the negotiation.”

“Very well,” said the builder, calculating quickly. “If you want the entire road in stone, it would cost one thousand to twelve hundred pesos. Astronomical — and not recommended. What I’d suggest is a combination of stone and bridle. Stone in the rougher places, bridle for most of the way. That would bring it down to four hundred, maybe four hundred fifty pesos.”

“Alright, thanks,” Francisco said with a small smile. “I’ll talk to the mayor, and I hope to give you news about the road construction in the future.”

With that, he walked away with Catalina toward the town hall.

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