Chapter IV
Liverpool – 1822
—I can’t marry him, father. You need to stop this
arrangement!
—Don’t you
dare raise your voice to me, young lady. I will raise my hand to you and teach
you to respect me if I need to!
Mr Williams punched the wooden table with his right hand. He
threw a fork at his daughter.
—Felicity, he shouted, this man is our chance to make money
again! He will be your husband and you have no choice in the matter.
The young lady with long dark hair and blue eyes begged him.
—He has very young children working at his factory, father,
and everybody knows about the poor conditions they have to work in; I saw it
with my own eyes. The conditions that those poor little children have to work
and live in are dangerous and not human. They are treated like animals. I saw a
little girl who must be five years old, at the most; she had the saddest eyes I
have ever seen and it was as if she was asking me for mercy in silence. I
couldn’t live with a man like that; you know how I feel about this child labour
...
Before she could finish her sentence, her father stood up
and grabbed her violently by her arms.
—I don’t give a damn if the children at his factory are
healthy or not. I don’t give a damn if he hits those poor little devils or not!
He is our salvation, Felicity; he is our way out of the misery we find
ourselves in.
Still holding his daughter and looking firmly into her eyes,
the old man shook her violently and sat her down on the chair by the table.
—Tomorrow Mr Worley will be here with his son Peter at seven
o’clock, and his son will ask my permission to marry you. You will come down
from your bedroom to the living area, and you will give Mr Worley and his son a
smile and say how glad and honoured you are about the news.
The old man left the room. Felicity remained on her knees,
crying, feeling hopeless.
At that point the room was filled with a light that
brightened the whole room. Two men who were invisible to Felicity approached
her and both put their hands above Felicity’s head, and in silence they began
to heal her spirit. Although Felicity could not see them or how bright the room
had turned, she felt at that moment calmer.
—Please, Lord, she said, looking up. Be with me. Help me
find a way out.
The following day arrived. Miranda, a black lady who was the
only staff member to remain working for Mr Williams after he went bankrupt,
started to clean the house very early to ensure all the housekeeping tasks were
done by the time the Worleys arrived. She did a deep clean in the house, and looked
after the garden and the cooking for the dinner party.
Miranda had always been very dedicated to Felicity’s mother,
and when she fell ill with cancer, Miranda promised her she would look after
Felicity if the worst happened.
When Felicity’s mother passed away, Mr Williams began to
drink more than he used to and became addicted to betting. He lost all of his
assets apart from the house they lived in. All the other servants tired of
being verbally abused by Mr Williams and, unhappy about the lack of payment for
their services, left him with his young daughter. Miranda was the only one to
stay, although her decision had nothing to do with Mr Williams. She wanted to
keep her promise and look after Felicity because she cared about the child as
if she were her own. The financial situation had not improved, and the arranged
marriage was for him a way out of misery.
The carriage arrived outside punctually at seven o’clock.
Peter Worley, together with his father and mother, stepped out of the carriage
and were greeted by Mr Williams. Peter’s father, Mr John Worley, was a very
famous and rich merchant in the region. Although he wouldn’t talk about it,
everybody knew that the most profitable part of his business was the result of
the slave trade, and the reason why he would not mention the nature of his
business was not because he wasn’t proud of it, but because the slave trade had
become illegal in the United Kingdom.
Their conversation in the living room was awkward and
formal. The groom and his family seemed impatient, as if they wanted to get the
business over with and leave the house. The groom soon asked to see his future
fiancée. Mr Williams knew how reluctant his daughter was to marry this man, but
he had no choice but to call her into the room.
Mr Williams asked Miranda to call Felicity, who was ready in
her bedroom. Felicity walked down the long wooden stairs. She was wearing a
bright yellow dress, her hair was curly and shiny, and her face was as pale as
porcelain. Everybody in the room stood up to see the young lady enter the room
and they all complimented her on how beautiful she looked. She was visibly uncomfortable
and very shaky. Peter’s eyes were focused on her. He knew of her rejection of him,
which had only made him even more attracted to her. He spent months obsessed with
her and dreaming about the day she would be his.
—You’re right, my son, said John Worley, admiring her. She is
beautiful and will make a good wife.
—Felicity, said her father. The young Mr Peter has just
asked me for my permission to marry you. And I have told him and his parents
how honoured we are with this proposal.
Felicity looked at Mr John Worley.
—May I ask you something, Mr Worley?
The man was too surprised to answer, and Felicity carried on
before he could even open his mouth.
—Is it true that you, Mr Worley, still send ships to Africa
to capture innocent humans who are sold in different countries?
Her question went down like a bomb in the room.
—You’re an insane little girl if you think you can question me
like this, Mr Worley replied. You must feel stupidly very proud of your
decadent father to dare and confront me like this. Do you think my son and I
don’t know that this marriage is your and your father’s last hope in life? This
is the only way for him to get some money and save himself from complete
misery. You must be insane to throw your only shot in life away with such
accusations.
—I don’t love your son and he knows it. He has been after me
for months and I have made my thoughts clear. I don’t understand what makes him
insist.
Mr Williams, desperately trying to find a solution for the
mess created by his daughter, begged the Worley family not to leave. He threw
himself at Peter’s feet.
—Please, please don’t leave. She will obey you as her
husband and she will be a good wife. She will learn to love you, I am sure. You
can teach her.
—We are leaving, said John Worley, heading to the door.
—Father, wait! said Peter. I like her. I have liked her
since I first saw her. Let me marry her! Mr Williams is right; I will make her
love me.
His father sighed and agreed to negotiate with Mr Williams, on
the condition that Felicity was sent to her room out of his sight. Once Felicity
had left the room, they all went to the dinner table where Miranda was waiting
to serve the dinner. Mr Williams and Mr Worley negotiated the wedding.
Felicity’s life was negotiated there at the dinner table as if they were all
negotiating the life of one of Mr Worley’s captured slaves.
Later that evening, after the Worley family had left the
house, Mr Williams, drunk, went to Felicity’s room and got hold of her. He
threw her on the floor.
—This is to teach you a lesson: to never disrespect your man
ever again!
He spat in Felicity’s face.
Felicity stayed on the floor, crying. Miranda went in and
sat down next to her. She rested Felicity’s head on her lap. Stroking
Felicity’s hair, she sang a prayer in an African dialect.
Not far from the Worleys’ house, there was an orphanage that
was run by a woman and her son. The woman lived off the fortune left by her
husband after his death. The man died five years after their wedding, leaving
his wife Beatrice and his son Jonathan. Beatrice never surrendered to the wealthy
lifestyle that her fortune could have brought her and her son, and since the
early days of her marriage she dedicated herself to looking after her house and
her son. She always found time to learn different languages and to learn arts.
When her husband passed away, Beatrice went against all the traditional values of
those times and began to dedicate herself to helping poor people. With the
money left by her husband, Beatrice decided to convert her manor house into an
orphanage and help the poor children who lived in the region. The house was
enormous and could easily accommodate the children and continue to be a home
for herself and her son at the same time.
With the Industrial Revolution there were lots of children
executing hard work in factories around the United Kingdom and Europe.
Liverpool, being one of the richest cities in Europe at that time, had a large
number of children suffering from alcoholism and illness due to the poor living
conditions. It was common to see children as young as four and five working in
factories for long hours, six days per week, and sometimes not even being paid
for their services. At that time many children were found abandoned by their
poor parents and some ended up being left in the streets.
Beatrice raised her son Jonathan with the best education and
he became a tall, handsome man, with similar principles and values as his
mother. Jonathan had just graduated in medicine from the University of
Cambridge. When he returned to Liverpool after finishing his studies, he
committed to helping his mother with the orphanage. They both led a charitable
life helping the poor children in the region. Jonathan was very dedicated to
his mother, and he participated in every step of the orphanage project as well
as doing his own work as a doctor at the local hospital.
—Good morning, son! said Beatrice.
Jonathan had just joined her at the table for breakfast. An
old lady in a uniform was serving the food.
—Morning, mother. You look flawless today, as usual! Good
morning, Ophelia – how are you doing today?
The old lady, who was one of several servants in the house,
smiled at him and replied, saying that she was doing well, and thanked him for
asking. She served his breakfast and went back to the kitchen.
Beatrice was reading the newspaper, and one story in
particular caught her attention.
—Jonathan, listen to this: ‘Ten children died yesterday at
Morley’s Textile Factory. The children were found with severe symptoms of malnutrition
and signs of violent treatment.’ I am disgusted. Someone has to stop that man.
She passed the newspaper to her son, who carried on reading.
—‘Ten children died yesterday at Morley’s Textile Factory after
working over sixteen hours per day, seven days per week. The children had
bruises all over their bodies, which probably indicates bad treatment by the
company ...’
Jonathan dropped the papers on the table in anger.
—Working for over sixteen hours a day? he said. I feel so
angry! Everybody knows about the atrocities against children in that factory, yet
nothing is done to stop them.
—I know, son. I feel the same, though unfortunately this is
the cruel reality of our society. They have the money and power. Nobody seems
to care for the children and in the end they are all treated as white slaves.
What hurts the most is knowing that this is happening here just under our nose
and there is nothing that we can do!
—One day I will find a way to stop all of this. Mark my
words, mother, I will!
Beatrice and Jonathan’s conversation started to fade away
and the picture became blurred.
Chapter V
At the Temple
Back at the spiritual colony
Suddenly Michael felt a warm feeling. He could hear birds
singing. Opening his eyes, he realised that he had been asleep. He stood up
feeling very happy. His astral memory was coming back to him. Rufus was there, excited,
jumping on him. He picked Rufus up and received a lick from the dog, who seemed
very happy to be with him.
Mateo and Harriet knocked on Michael’s door moments after he
woke up. He greeted them with a wide smile and hugged them both.
—I had a dream last night, and I think the dream was about
my past life ... I mean, our past life experience.
Harriet and Mateo smiled and congratulated him.
—What about your surprise? Harriet asked, looking at Rufus.
Are you happy?
—Yes, I am, said Michael whilst stroking the dog’s head. But
... erm ... How ...? So animals are spirits too?
—The animals have a soul and their soul life is also
infinite, explained Mateo. They continue to evolve as we do. Different from
man, the soul of the animal does not have its own faculty and
self-consciousness, which is the principal attribute of the spirit. The
animal’s soul is far from being similar to men’s souls, and men’s souls are far
from being similar to God. For the animals, the men are God.
—You can tell us about your memory now while we walk down to
the temple, said Harriet.
They walked slowly towards the temple and Harriet and Mateo
paid close attention while Michael told them the details of his dream.
They walked along a road where beautiful large houses were
located. Michael had told them about his entire dream by the time they reached
the temple. Once they had arrived, Harriet and Mateo introduced him to some
friends and entered the temple.
The temple had shiny marble floors that reflected the
chandeliers on the ceiling. In the centre of the entry hall there was a three-level
water fountain constructed from the same marble as the floor. There were groups
of people all over the massive room and they all stopped when the picture of the
Towers’ minister appeared at the centre of the room in what appeared to Michael
to be a hologram.
(...)
