CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
_Gabriel as an Orator_
The _Malvern Recorder_ was very kind to Gabriel, and said nothing inregard to his escape. This was due to a timely suggestion on the part ofColonel Tom Vardeman, who rightly guessed that the Governmentauthorities would be more willing to permit the affair to blow over,provided the details were not made notorious in the newspapers. As theresult of the Colonel's discretion, there was not a hint in the publicpress that one of the prisoners had eluded the vigilance of those whohad charge of him. There was a paragraph or two in the _Recorder_,stating that the Shady Dale prisoners--"the victims of Federaltyranny"--had passed through the city on their way to Atlanta, and along account was given of their sufferings in Fort Pulaski. The factswere supplied by Gabriel, but the printed account went far beyondanything he had said. "They are not the first martyrs that have sufferedin the cause of liberty," said the editor of the _Recorder_, incommenting on the account in the local columns, "and they will not bethe last. Let the radicals do their worst; on the old red hills ofGeorgia, the camp-fires of Democracy have been kindled, and they willcontinue to burn and blaze long after the tyrants and corruptionistshave been driven from power."
Gabriel read this eloquent declaration somewhat uneasily. There wassomething in it, and something in the exaggeration of the facts that hehad given to the representative of the paper that jarred upon him. Hehad already in his own mind separated the Government and its realinterests from the selfish aims and desires of those who weretemporarily clothed with authority, and he had begun to suspect thatthere might also be something selfish behind the utterances of those whomade such vigorous protests against tyranny. The matter is hardly worthreferring to in these days when shams and humbugs appear before thepublic in all their nakedness; but it was worth a great deal to Gabrielto be able to suspect that the champions of constitutional liberty, andthe defenders of popular rights, in the great majority of instances hadtheir eyes on the flesh-pots. The suspicions he entertained put him onhis guard at a time when he was in danger of falling a victim to therhetoric of orators and editors, and they preserved him from many amistaken belief.
During the period that intervened between his escape and theannouncement of the restoration of civil government in Georgia, Gabrielsettled down to a course of reading in the law office of Judge Vardeman,Colonel Tom's brother. He did this on the advice of those who were oldenough to know that idleness does not agree with a healthy youngster,especially in a large city. His experience in Judge Vardeman's officedecided his career. He was fascinated from the very beginning. He foundthe dullest law-book interesting; and he became so absorbed in hisreading that the genial Judge was obliged to warn him that too muchstudy was sometimes as bad as none.
Yet the lad's appetite grew by what it fed on. A new field had beenopened up to him, and he entered it with delight. Here was what he hadbeen longing for, and there were moments when he felt sure that he hadheard delivered from the bench, or had dreamed, the grave and sobermaxims and precepts that confronted him on the printed page. He pursuedhis studies in a state of exaltation that caused the days to fly byunnoted. He thought of home, and of his grandmother, and a vision of Nansometimes disturbed his slumbers; but for the time being there wasnothing real but the grim commentators and expounders of the common law.
When Mr. Sanders returned home, bearing the news of Gabriel's escape,Nan Dorrington laid siege to his patience, and insisted that he go overevery detail of the event, not once but a dozen times. To her it was aremarkable adventure, which fitted in well with the romances which shehad been weaving all her life. How did Gabriel look when he ran from thedepot at Malvern? Was he frightened? And how in the world did he manageto get in the waggon, and crawl on the inside of the sham bale of cottonand hide so that nobody could see him? And what did he say and how didhe look when Mr. Sanders found him asleep in the cotton-bale box, or thecotton-box bale, whichever you might call it?
"Why, honey, I've told you all I know an' a whole lot more," protestedMr. Sanders. "Ef ever'body was name Nan, I'd be the most populous man inthe whole county."
"Well, tell me this," Nan insisted; "what did he talk about when he wokeup? Did he ask about any of the home-folks?"
"Lemme see," said Mr. Sanders, pretending to reflect; "he turned over inhis box, an' got his ha'r ketched in a rough plank, an' then he bust outcryin' jest like you use to do when you got hurt. I kinder muched himup, an' then he up an' tol' me a whole lot of stuff about a young lady:how he was gwine to win her ef he had to stop chawin' tobacco, an'cussin'. I'll name no names, bekaze I promised him I wouldn't."
"I think that is disgusting," Nan declared. "Do you mean to tell me henever asked about his grandmother?"
"Fiddlesticks, Nan! he looked at me like he was hungry, an' I told himall about his grandmother, an' he kep' on a-lookin' hungry, an' I toldhim all about her neighbours. What he said I couldn't tell you no morethan the man in the moon. He done jest like any other healthy boy would'a' done, an' that's all I know about it."
"That's what I thought," said Nan wearily; "boys are so tiresome!"
"Well, Gabriel didn't look much like a boy when I seed him last. Hehadn't shaved in a month of Sundays, and his beard was purty nigh aslong as my little finger. He couldn't go to a barber-shop in Malvernfor fear some of the niggers might know him an' report him to thecommander of the post there. I begged him not to shave the beard off. Helooks mighty well wi' it."
"His beard!" cried Nan. "If he comes home with a beard I'll never speakto him again. Gabriel with a beard! It is too ridiculous!"
"Don't worry," Mr. Sanders remarked soothingly. "Ef I git word of hiscomin' I'll git me a pa'r of shears, an' meet him outside thecorporation line, an' lop his whiskers off for him; but I tell you now,it won't make him look a bit purtier--not a bit."
"You needn't trouble yourself," said Nan, with considerable dignity. "Ihave no interest in the matter at all."
"Well, I thought maybe you'd be glad to git Gabriel's beard an' make itin a sofy pillow."
"Why, whoever heard of such a thing?" cried Nan. In common with manyothers, she was not always sure when Mr. Sanders was to be takenseriously.
"I knowed a man once," replied Mr. Sanders, by way of making a practicalapplication of his suggestion, "that vowed he'd never shave his beardoff till Henry Clay was elected President. Well, it growed an' growed,an' bimeby it got so long that he had to wrop it around his body a timeor two for to keep it from draggin' the ground. It went on that away fora considerbul spell, till one day, whilst he was takin' a nap, his wifetook her scissors an' whacked it off. The reason she give was that shewanted to make four or five sofy pillows; but I heard afterwards thatshe changed her mind, an' made a good big mattress."
Nan looked hard at the solemn countenance of Mr. Sanders, trying todiscover whether he was in earnest, but older and wiser eyes than hershad often failed to penetrate behind the veil of child-like serenitythat sometimes clothed his features.
One day while Gabriel was deep in a law-book, Colonel Tom Vardeman camein smiling. He had a telegram in his hand, which he tossed to Gabriel.It was from Major Tomlin Perdue, and contained an urgent request forGabriel to take the next train for Halcyondale, where he would meet theprisoners who had been released pending their trial by the State courts,an event that never came off. Gabriel had seen in the morning paper thatthe prisoners were to be released in a day or two; but undoubtedly MajorPerdue had the latest information, for he was in communication withMeriwether Clopton and other friends of the prisoners who were inAtlanta watching the progress of the case.
Gabriel lost no time in making his arrangements to leave, and he was inHalcyondale some hours before the Atlanta train was due. When all hadarrived, they were for going home at once; but the citizens ofHalcyondale, led by Major Perdue and Colonel Blasengame, would not hearof such a thing.
"No, sirs!" exclaimed Major Perdue. "You young ones have been away fromhome long enough to be weaned, and a day or two won't make anydifference to any
body's feelings. We have long been wanting a red-letterday in this section, and now that we've got the excuse for making one,we're not going to let it go by. Everything is fixed, or will be by dayafter to-morrow. We're going to have a barbecue half-way between thistown and Shady Dale. The time was ripe for it anyhow, and you fellowsmake it more binding. The people of the two counties haven't had ajollification since the war, and they couldn't have one while it wasgoing on. They haven't had an excuse for it; and now that we have theexcuse we're not going to turn it loose until the jollification isover."
And so it was arranged. Notice was given to the people in theold-fashioned way, and nearly everybody in the two counties not onlycontributed something to the barbecue, but came to enjoy it, and whenthey were assembled they made up the largest crowd that had been seentogether in that section since the day when Alexander Stephens and JudgeCone had their famous debate--a debate which finally ended in a personalencounter between the two.
The details of the barbecue were in the hands of Mr. Sanders, who wasfamous in those days for his skill in such matters. The fires had beenlighted the night before, and when the sun rose, long lines of carcasseswere slowly roasting over the red coals, contributing to the breezes anaroma so persistent and penetrating that it could be recognised milesaway, and so delicious that, as Mr. Sanders remarked, "it would make asick man's mouth water."
A speaker's stand had been erected, and everything was arranged just asit would have been for a political meeting. There was a good deal offormality too. Major Perdue prided himself on doing such things instyle. He was a great hand to preside at political meetings, in whichthere is considerable formality. As the Major managed the affair, thefriends of the young men caught their first glimpse of them as they wentupon the stand. By some accident, or it may have been arranged by MajorPerdue, Gabriel was the first to make his appearance, but he was closelyfollowed by the rest. A tremendous shout went up from the immenseaudience, which was assembled in front of the stand, and this was whatthe Major had arranged for. The shouts and cheers of a great assemblagewere as music in his ears. He comported himself with as much pride as ifall the applause were a tribute to him. He advanced to the front, andstood drinking it in greedily, not because he was a vain man, butbecause he was fond of the excitement with which the presence of a crowdinspired him. It made his blood tingle; it warmed him as a glass ofspiced wine warms a sick person.
When the applause had subsided, the Major made quite a little speech, inwhich he referred to the spirit of martyrdom betrayed by the youngpatriots, who had been seized and carried into captivity by the stronghand of a tyrannical Government, and he managed to stir the crowd to agreat pitch of excitement. He brought his remarks to a close byintroducing his young friend, Gabriel Tolliver.
There was tremendous cheering at this, and all of a sudden Gabriel wokeup to the fact that his name had been called, and he looked around witha dazed expression on his face. He had been trying to see if he couldfind the face of Nan Dorrington in the crowd, but so far he had failed,and he woke out of a dream to hear a multitude of voices shouting hisname. "Why, what do they mean?" he asked.
"Get up there and face 'em," said Major Perdue.
Now, Nan was not so very far from the stand, so close, indeed, that shehad not been in Gabriel's field of vision while he was sitting down; butwhen he rose to his feet she was the first person he saw, and heobserved that she was very pale. In fact, Nan had shrunk back when theMajor announced that Gabriel would speak for his fellow-martyrs, and fora moment or two she fairly hated the man. She might not be very fond ofGabriel, but she didn't want to see him made a fool of before so manypeople.
Somehow or other, the young fellow divined her thought, and he smiled inspite of himself. He had no notion what to say, but he had the gift ofsaying something, very strongly developed in him; and he knew the momenthe saw Nan's scared face that he must acquit himself with credit. So helooked at her and smiled, and she tried to smile in return, but it was avery pitiful little smile. Gabriel walked to the small table and leanedone hand on it, and his composure was so reassuring to everybody butNan, that the cheering was renewed and kept up while the youngster wastrying to put his poor thoughts together.
He began by thanking Major Perdue for his sympathetic remarks, and thenproceeded to take sharp issue with the whole spirit of the Major'sspeech, using as the basis of his address an idea that had been put intohis head by Judge Vardeman. The day before he left Malvern, the Judgehad asked him this question: "Why should a parcel of politicians turn usagainst a Government under which we are compelled to live?"
This was the basis of Gabriel's remarks. He elaborated it, and wasperhaps the first person in the country to ask if there was anyConfederate soldier who had feelings of hatred against the soldiers ofthe Union. He had not gone far before he had the audience completelyunder his control. Almost every statement he made was received withshouts of approval, and in some instances the applause was such that hehad time to stand and gaze at Nan, whose colour had returned, and whooccasionally waved the little patch of lace-bordered muslin that shecalled a handkerchief.
She was almost frightened at Gabriel's composure. The last time she hadseen him, he was an awkward young man, whose hands and feet were alwaysin his way. She felt that she was his superior then; but how would shefeel in the presence of this grave young man, who was as composed whileaddressing an immense crowd as if he had been talking to Cephas, and whowas dealing out advice to his seniors right and left? Nan was very surein her own mind that she would never understand Gabriel again, and thethought robbed the occasion of a part of its enjoyment. She allowed herthoughts to wander to such an extent that she forgot the speech, andhad her mind recalled to it only when the frantic screams of theaudience split her ears, and she saw Gabriel, flushed and triumphant,returning to his seat. Then the real nature of his triumph dawned onher, as she saw Meriwether Clopton and all the others on the standcrowding around Gabriel and shaking his hand. She sat very quiet andsubdued until she felt some one touch her shoulder. It was Cephas, andhe wanted to know what she thought of it all. Wasn't it splendiferous?
Nan made no reply, but gave the little lad a message for Gabriel, whichhe delivered with promptness. He edged his way through the crowd,crawled upon the stand, and pulled at Gabriel's coat-tails. The greatorator--that's what Cephas thought he was--seized the little fellow andhugged him before all the crowd; and though many years have passed,Cephas has never had a triumph of any kind that was quite equal to thepride he felt while Gabriel held him in his arms. The little fellow tookthis occasion to deliver his message, which was to the effect thatGabriel was to ride home in the Dorrington carriage with Nan.
Gabriel Tolliver: A Story of Reconstruction Page 34