I sit in Lord Bathurst’s office with my heart beating like a warrior’s drum. It’s thudding hard in my chest.
“Ma’am. Make it plain. I’m listening.”
“I’m here to stop future rebellions. I think you created your Amelioration Laws to do that.”
“I did. Rebellions are costly in lives and damage and resources. The navy is overburdened now. Amelioration can bring contentment to the slaves.”
My gut burns at the notion of being satisfied as chattel, but I had to focus. Prince William’s Parliament could end slavery, but Lord Bathurst can end this wrongful taxation.
Someone knocks on the door.
“Come in,” Bathurst said.
A fellow brings a service of tea.
“Refreshment, Mrs. Kirwan Thomas?” Lord Bathurst points to the plain silver pot. Steam is rising.
My throat has dried from my tongue being too careful. “Please.”
The clerk puts the heavy tray on top of my papers then stokes the fireplace.
Lord Bathurst tries to wiggle the pages free. Tea spills. Ink smears. My squiggles are blurry indigo waves.
“Sir, those are notices of the taxes. Women under attack. We’ve written all the reasons this is unfair.”
He takes the wet papers and gives them to the clerk. “Johnson, see if these can be saved.”
I stare at the man taking away the ruined pages, then to the street with my carriage with my damfo. My heart feels full and powerful. I remember I am here for her.
“Mrs. Kirwan Thomas, you know a great deal about this. Tell me the problem. You started eloquently. You can finish.”
My pulse swooshes in my veins. The tea has scented the air with lemon, but the ash of the fireplace coals takes me to the moment I saw Josephy’s burnt fields. My anger, my hurt, all the losses erupt from that bottomless well in my chest.
“I’ve come to talk about how to stop the killings, the next rebellion. One will come if nothing changes. It will be bloodier and more costly than the last.”
He propped his hand under his chin and supported it with the other arm. “The unrest robs resources needed to govern the colonies. The rebellions in Grenada and Haiti cost so many lives. I’m listening, Mrs. Thomas.”
“Lieutenant Governor Murray purposely withheld your orders. He did so to appease the planters who fear that the enslaved learning about the Bible would yearn for freedom. What the governor doesn’t understand is that everyone yearns for freedom, everyone. When the enslaved believed King George had freed them and Murray was keeping them enslaved, they threw off their yokes, praising the king.”
“Then it’s a misunderstanding, ma’am.”
“No. It’s criminal. Everything being done builds a climate of mistrust. Can you blame anyone when your officials do not follow your orders?”
He sat back in his chair. “Murray may be the wrong man to lead Demerara.”
“It’s him and the council. They’ve placed taxes upon the free women of color to be punitive. They don’t believe colored women should be free, or that we should have money and live in peace. The governor wants tyranny. That is why they behead or hang any enslaved person. They do that to choke off the hope of a people craving freedom, craving autonomy of their bodies.”
“Murray’s threatening free colored women, too? Are you leading insurrection, ma’am?”
“My being here is insurrection ’cause I’m not doing what those men want. Murray is using taxation to hurt us. The colonial council want us women alone to pay for damages to government buildings. As good colonists, we will do our share, but all citizens have need of those buildings. Shouldn’t all people of means pay?”
He steepled his fingers and nodded. “That does sounds unfair, but how will this cause the next rebellion?”
“I was in Grenada. Many Catholic planters joined the Fédons because they felt the governor had treated them unfairly with taxes and confiscations. The council in Demerara will continue to abuse us by imposing harsh laws. Once men get away with something, they continue causing more trouble.”
“That’s a problem, Mrs. Thomas. Unrest and strife do enflame the populaces.”
“If that means people will rise up, then yes. Many have been freed under the laws of England. If this council keeps making unjust laws, what will stop them from changing the manumission contracts? Nothing. Nothing will keep them from changing the terms of freedom. People will go to war over it.”
He poured himself a cup of tea. “They’ll never do that. You’re overreacting.”
“What’s to stop this council of men? Decency? One of the enslaved was murdered by the militia for praising King George. He had no weapon. They cut his head off and put it on a stake in my yard. Does that sound like a reasonable action?”
The lord’s eyes went wide, then he folded his arms. “What is it that you are asking me to do?”
“Abolish this tax on freewomen. Send notification to Demerara, Barbados, Dominica, Grenada, Montserrat, all the islands of the West Indies that the targeting of women will not be tolerated. Tell them that the tax code and the laws can’t be used to erode the freedoms we’ve gained. Send that message. Make it loud.”
“I’ll take what you’ve said under consideration, Mrs. Thomas.”
“Do more. Your inaction condones those old men weaponizing laws to intimidate good citizens. Loyal citizens of the Crown. If you do not act, they will continue to inflict more pain. You will have another Grenada. Or Haiti. I hear those rebels won.”
Bathurst swallowed and nodded. “You make good points.”
A double knock pounds the door.
“Yes, come in,” Bathurst says.
Johnson enters. “Here, sir. It’s almost dry and mostly legible.”
“Thank you.”
As the clerk leaves, the overseer secretary takes the papers. By the window, he holds them up one by one.
He takes his time, and I stare out the window, wondering where my niece and I might journey next in our six-pair carriage. Around Kensington Palace? Gunther’s for an ice? Shopping? Or back to her husband to plan my financial escape from Demerara?
I’m comforted.
I’ve done my best.
I can’t think of anything more to say to sway Bathurst.
The man puts my papers on his desk then sits beside me on the sofa. “I see. I understand.”
“Does that mean you will help?”
“That means I’ll do more. I agree this tax must be abolished. I’ll have orders written today. Do you want a copy sent or do you wish to wait for it?”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll sit here and enjoy this tea while I wait for your words. I’ll take them back to Demerara. I’ll let everyone know freewomen will be treated fairly under British laws.”
“Yes, ma’am, Mrs. Dorothy Kirwan Thomas.”
Savoring my warm cup, I enjoy the rhythm of all those s’s. His lordship called me by my proper name.