The first of August came, a day on which in this island alone, near four thousand beings received their freedom from a domestic slavery which had been perpetual . . . The day was as remarkable for quietude, exemption from labour, and solemnity as that which marks the Sabbath in every Christian land.

¿ Cyril Packwood, Chained on the Rock, quoting from a Bermuda newspaper of August 1834.

THE first of August in Barbados to the south is the public holiday of Emancipation Day, marking the 173rd year that slavery was abolished throughout the British dominions, including Bermuda.

Most of us spent the first of August rushing about getting the five per cent discount at the supermarket and stocking up for the nation-wide party that has become Cup Match.

Here, August 2 is noted as the public holiday for Emancipation Day and there may have been a few demonstrations of "solemnity as marks the Sabbath", where some paused to reflect on what that day meant 17 decades ago, that day of "Jubilee", for some of our predecessors.

Others were no doubt waxing cricket bats in preparation for the annual battle between the west and east. Others staked claims, like prospectors in the gold rushes, to turf upon which to plant their tent for an annual camp in the wilds of the South Shore.

Nothing wrong with having a good outing or taking part in the British sport of cricket, but one wonders if the biblical rains that interrupted some forms of play were the signs of global warming or heavenly discontent this Cup Match.

The other half of national celebration of Cup Match is "Somers Day". According to one web site: "Despite being referred to in history as the Father of Bermuda, Admiral Sir George Somers is nowadays almost completely ignored on the second of the two-day public holiday period, known in his honour as Somers Day."

Sir George, whose heart is buried somewhere in St. George's, still has his day in the sun, however, as his statue hails one and all from Ordnance Island.

On the other hand, in these days of rehabilitating history, perhaps the first three permanent settlers of Bermuda are its real "Fathers", there being no women on the island at the time.

These were the bad boys who were left behind in 1610, two after the Patience and Deliverance departed for Virginia and another after those vessels took Sir George's earthly remains, sans coeur, to Britain.

They were Christoper Carter, Edward Waters and lastly Edward Chard; descendants of Carter are apparently still in evidence down St. David's way.

The trade in slaves from West Africa to the Americas began in the 16th century and continued into the late 1800s in a few countries such as Brazil. This is the 200th anniversary year of the abolition of the trade in the British possessions and we find that we have the great-great-great granddaughter of William Wilberforce, the great force behind the cessation of that crime against humanity, living among us as a temp on a work permit.

Such foreigners are perhaps a modern form of indentured servant, except that the freedom is absolutely denied them at the end of their servitude, thanks to United Nations mandates on expatriate workers, incorporated into the local six-year rule.

It is estimated that some 12 million Africans arrived alive in the Americas, while possibly double that number, or more, died on the voyage across the Atlantic Ocean.

Several thousand slaves were brought to Bermuda and with offspring at Emancipation, the population with African origins numbered around 4,600 persons, of whom about 1,300 were Free Blacks.

One of the Free Blacks was Stephen Benjamin Richardson, born a slave at St. George's in 1800, but who obtained his freedom some time before 1830.

A remarkable man according to an account by the late Cyril Packwood, Richardson bought the freedom of his wife three years before Emancipation, as shown in the Bill of Sale donated to the Maritime Museum for its exhibit and collections on slavery at Bermuda by his great-great grandchildren, Eloise McShine, Lucille Foggo and John Albert Richardson.

Know all Men by these Presents, That I, William Hugh Peniston of Smith's Parish in the Islands of Bermuda, Shipwright, in Consideration of the Sum of thirty Pounds current Money of Bermuda, to me in Hand paid by a certain coloured or black free man called or know by the name of Stephen Benjamin Richardson of Saint George's Parish in the said Islands, Shipwright, at or before the Sealing and Delivery of these Presents, the Receipt whereof I do hereby acknowledge, have bargained, sold, released, granted and confirmed, and by the Presents Do bargain, sell, release, grant and confirm unto the said Stephen Benjamin Richardson a certain coloured or mulatto Woman called or known by the name of Violet, now living with the said Stephen as his Wife; To have and to hold the said Violet¿In Testimony whereof I, the said William Hugh Peniston, have hereunto set my Hand and Seal this fifteenth Day of October in the Year of our Lord One thousand eight hundred and thirty one.

Stephen and Violet had a family of six and he went on to become a Branch Pilot; his grandson George Stephen Richardson following him in the maritime trades. George's son, James Leo Richardson, was the father of the donors of Violet's Bill of Sale and James Leo's grandson, Dean Foggo is a Member of Parliament.

Born into slavery, freed with Violet before Emancipation, Stephen Benjamin Richardson, the pilot of ships through Bermuda treacherous reefs, would perhaps take pride that his great-great-great grandson is one of the group of men and women who are the pilots of the nation in House of Assembly, in the sometimes treacherous waters of modern party politics.

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Dr. Edward Harris, MBE, JP, FSA, Bermudian, is the Executive Director of the Bermuda Maritime Museum. Comments can be sent to drharrislogic.bm or by telephone to 799-5480.