Receive Me Falling by Erika Robuck Page A

which, though attached to the house, was set far enough to the rear of
the plantation to keep the cooking smells and heat from the stone ovens
contained.  
                Meg was surprised at the amount of
furniture, wall hangings, and décor still inside of the home.   Someone must have either left the house in a
great hurry many years ago, or intended on returning and never did.   Of course, it was all damp, half-eaten, and
completely unusable to anyone but small rodents, but still a marvel to see in
such a condition.   The Historical Society
would salivate if they knew the level of preservation.
                Meg shot picture after picture,
thankful she brought a new memory card for her digital camera.   As Meg made her way into the parlor to begin
a room by room catalogue of the house, she began to think of the monetary
possibilities of selling the house and land.   Would the Nevis Historical Society be able to give her fair market value
for the property, or would an outside investor be the best option?   If she sold the property to a developer a
grand hotel could be built, with the house as an historical site that could be
restored and used for tours.
                As she thought and walked slowly
through the parlor, Meg found herself in front of a piano whose legs looked as
if they were moments away from collapsing under the burden of the
instrument.   The bench had already given
out, and rested heavily on the floor.   The spine of a music book peeking from under the bench caught Meg’s eye.
    Beethoven’s
“Moonlight Sonata .”  
    Her years of piano training as a child came
rushing back to her as she thought of the somber sounds of the piece in her
head.   A sudden chill seized Meg.
                That
was the piece played last night.  
                Suddenly aware of how dark the house
had become, Meg felt a sudden urge to leave.   She carefully lifted the bench to remove the music book, and stood in a
hurry to exit the house.   As she rose, a
small pamphlet fell from the pages inside the book.   It was yellowed and very brittle.   A note was scribbled in old-fashioned script
and almost illegibly on the inside cover:

 
    Miss Dall,  
    You
should find this writing most interesting, as Mr. Alexander Hamilton was one of
yours, that is, a Nevisan.  
    Yours,
    James
Silwell.

 
                Meg turned the pages, scanning its
contents as she went. The pamphlet provided a biography of Alexander Hamilton
and catalogued his efforts as an officer of the New York Manumission
Society.   Meg was interested to learn
that Hamilton was born on Nevis,
and his early observations and experiences that exposed him to the slave system
(though he never personally owned slaves) helped form his abhorrence of
it.  
                The second half of the pamphlet
provided a brief biography of Benjamin Franklin and his involvement in the
abolitionist movement.   In 1789, Franklin became president
of the Pennsylvania Abolition Society and worked to make meaningful transitions
to freedom for slaves.   He advocated
education, training and support for free men and women, noting that simply
freeing droves of people and sending them on their way did little to help their
situations.
                Meg was interested to read an
excerpt from a letter to George Washington from General Lafayette:
     
                Now, my dear General, that you are going to
enjoy some ease and quiet, permit me to propose a plan to which might become
greatly beneficial to the Black Part of Mankind.   Let us unite in purchasing a small estate where
we may try the experiment to free the Negroes, and use them only as
tenants—such an example as yours might render it a general practice, and if we
succeed in America, I will cheerfully devote a part of my time to render the
method fashionable in the West Indies.   If it be a wild scheme, I had rather be mad that