Receive Me Falling (4 page)

Childish shrieks and laughter snatched Catherine
from her thoughts.
 
Three small slave
children were chasing one another down by the path that led to their huts.
 
Catherine grinned as she collected various
treats from her breakfast table and wrapped them in a napkin.
 
After glancing around the dining room to make
sure she was not seen, Catherine ran from the house and charged after the
children into the dark path.
 
Leah’s eyes
smiled after her in the shadows.

 

 

James
stared out at the sea as the carriage brought him closer to the drive off the
main road.
 
An insistent breeze blew away
the harsh edges of the heat that had begun to settle on the island.
 
His eyes could not take in enough of the
surrounding landscape:
 
golden apples,
coconut palms, fern, bamboo, all color and array of blossoms, and countless
other varieties of vegetation all teeming with warblers, finches, doves,
swifts, lizards, beetles, butterflies and monkeys.
 
And standing above it all, a grand mountain
steeped in clouds and drizzled in miles of rainforest.
 

           
The great roar of noise from the
crashing waves, the trade winds, and the morning symphony of island creatures,
combined with the magnificence of the visual landscape assaulted and intoxicated
James’ senses.
 
He looked at his father
sitting next to him for a reaction, but saw only the steady and placid look
that always characterized Albert Silwell.
 

           
The Silwells were in Nevis under the direction of Thomas Clarkson.
 
Clarkson and William Wilberforce were two
leading British abolitionists working to persuade their country to end slavery
and all its associated practices.
 
Clarkson was honored by Wordsworth in a poem written after Clarkson had
helped to get the Slave Trade Bill of 1807 passed—which had effectively banned
British ships from involving themselves in the slave trade.
 
His drawing depicting how the slaves were
arranged below deck in transatlantic crossings influenced many people of the
time to reconsider their views on the practice of slavery.
 
James and Albert Silwell were on the island
gathering evidence to assist Clarkson and Wilberforce in their anti-slavery
crusade.
 

James’ eyes moved to the large dark-skinned man
driving the horses.
 
His neck shone with
perspiration.
 
He was thin, but the
muscles on his forearms and the spread of his back showed his strength.
 
He looked stiff and uncomfortable in the
white blouse and black breeches that he was wearing.
 
As the sun warmed and illuminated their backs
James drew in his breath.
 
He noticed
knotted scar tissue creeping up the back of the slave’s neck that he had
originally mistaken for a shirt’s ruffle.
  
The vine-like scars fascinated and repulsed James enough to capture his
attention for the remainder of the ride to the Great House.
 

The sharp crunch of crushed shells aroused James
from his trance.
 
The slave directed the
men to the veranda wrapped around the lower level of the house, and then
disappeared around the corner.
 
Moments
later, a round, glassy-eyed man with wind-swept gray hair pushed his way passed
a haughty, well-dressed slave at the front door and invited the Silwells into
the hall.
 

“Greetings, gentlemen.
 
I was just on my way to have the carriage
brought around when I learned of your early arrival.
 
I trust your journey afforded you a
breathtaking view of our beautiful island paradise.”

“It did indeed,” remarked Albert.
 
“We apologize for taking the liberty of
venturing to your home before we were scheduled to arrive, but several
gentlemen at the hotel assured us of your hospitality.”

“We are never bothered by visitors—especially
those coming to learn the sugar system.
 
We take great pride in our production and look forward to any
opportunity to boast about it,” said Cecil as he led them to the front parlor.

“We understand that your plantation houses the
most abundant and productive slave population on the Leeward
Islands,” said Albert.
 
“This is the first time we’ve gazed upon these exotic Africans.
 
It is a much less dramatic prospect than the
stories have foretold.”

 
“I know
that many grizzly tales have surfaced about slavery, but I assure you that our
slaves are treated kindly and accommodated fairly.
 
There are a small number of plantation owners
who have abused these poor beasts beyond what is reasonable, but I believe that
you will find it to be a much more humane prospect than you had imagined.
 
The slave is, after all, physically and
mentally designed for such servitude.
 
He
is happiest when productive and well cared for.”

James glanced at the man who had driven them to
the Great House who had materialized in a dark corner of the front hall, and
the man quickly shifted his eyes to the well-polished wood floor.

“I would like to look around while the two of you
talk,” said James.

“Certainly,” said Cecil as he filled three glasses
with rum.
 
“Unfortunately, my daughter
and I will be leaving soon for Services.
 
You were a bit earlier than I had anticipated.”

“I won’t venture far.
 
I plan to do a more thorough investigation
later in the week.
 
I’m eager to explore
some of this landscape on foot.”

Cecil hesitated a moment and glanced out toward
the back of the house.
 
“The doors off
the dining room will allow you passage to the back lawn.”

“Thank you, Mr. Dall.”

James approached the doors and stepped out into
the morning sunlight.
 
The lawn was
quieter than the road.
 
Birds and insects
could still be heard, but their music was much more reverent, tame, and muted.
 
He passed over the trim green grasses and
onto a well-trodden dirt path.
 
Vines,
leaves, and flowers entombed the passageway, and the cool, dank smell of moss
and earth was pungent in the air.
 

James heard laughter flutter through the
vegetation. He crept into a clearing bathed in sunlight where he saw three
slave children running in circles around a blindfolded woman.
 
The children shrieked with delight as she
tried to chase and grab them.

Large fruit trees formed a circular grove veiled
in the evaporating dew of the morning.
 
Hummingbirds and insects flew from their shelters as James stepped out
into the sunlight.
 
Upon seeing the white
man, the children started and scattered like birds, leaving the blindfolded and
breathless Catherine asking after them as she felt the air around her.

“Children, I am going to find you,” she teased.

James stared at Catherine with fascination. She
was tall for a woman, slender in form, and flushed from the heat.
 
Her fair hair was swept up, but many curls
escaped their confinement.
 

Catherine heard James’ movements over the lawn and
began creeping toward him, feeling the air around her with her outstretched
arms.
 
James did not want to startle her,
but she was soon within inches of his face.
   
He reached for the blindfold and removed the covering from her
eyes.
 
She blinked as her eyes adjusted to
the sunlight.
 

“Now, yours is a face I do not know.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve frightened you.
 
My name is James Silwell.
 
You must be Mr. Dall’s daughter.”

“And you must be the entrepreneurial businessman.”

James laughed.
 
“My father Albert is probably the entrepreneurial businessman.
 
I am just a businessman.”

“Well, Mr. Silwell, I am sure my father would be
horrified to find that I had been carousing before church with the children, so
shall we keep this between the two of us?”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

Catherine smiled and led James out of the
clearing.

“You’re here early,” said Catherine.

“Our ship arrived at Nevis from England several days ago, and we
have been staying at the Bath Hotel.
 
After some inquiries we were ensured that our early arrival would not
trouble a man like your father, so we set out this morning.”

“Father troubles himself about very little, so you
should find yourselves quite welcome.”

Catherine and James arrived at the house and entered
the parlor as Albert and Cecil were preparing to depart it.

“Ah! You have found my darling imp,
Catherine.
 
Was she up a tree, or
elbow-deep in mud?” said Cecil.

“I assure you, she was acting every bit the lady,”
remarked James.

Catherine smiled.

“A distinct pleasure, Miss Dall,” said Albert, as
he bowed.

Catherine nodded.

“If it would not be too much trouble, we will
accompany you to church,” said Albert.

Preparations were made, and the small party took
leave of Eden.

 

 

St. John’s
Anglican Church was set on

Main Street
in the port city of Charlestown.
 
It was newly built, beautifully landscaped,
and surrounded by a stone wall that appeared to frame the church rather than
separate it from the road.
 
The Dalls and
the Silwells pulled up in front of the entrance, and Cecil helped his daughter
down from the carriage.
 
She led the
group toward the entrance of the church, but stopped and turned when a loud
voice could be heard crying over the crowds.

           
A Quaker, whose face and hair were
as sun-bleached and lined as his clothing, stood on a large rock with his thick
hand on the shoulder of a large African man.

“Brothers and sisters, I have seen the error of my
ways,” called the Quaker.

 
Cecil
tightened his grip on Catherine’s arm and pushed her toward the door of the
church.

“I have freed my slaves, and William, here, has
agreed to work with my family, for wages, as any man should be entitled to do.”

Catherine resisted her father’s pressure and
strained to listen to the speaker.

“William is a full man—not a beast as we have been
led to believe for so many years.
 
He has
a wife whom he cares for, and children he loves, and is a hard worker and a
good, God-fearing Christian.”

“For Christ’s sake,” mumbled Cecil.

Much of the crowd that had stopped along

Main Street
resumed
their travels and called out insulting remarks to the Quaker as they passed.