Gabriel Tolliver: A Story of Reconstruction by Joel Chandler Harris
CHAPTER NINETEEN
_Major Tomlin Perdue Arrives_
Gabriel was struck by the fact that Hotchkiss seemed to be undisturbedby the events that had startled and stampeded the negroes and the whitestranger. He remained in the church for some time after the others weregone, and he showed no uneasiness whatever. He had seated himself on oneof the deacons' chairs near the pulpit, and, with his head leaning onhis hand, appeared to be lost in thought. After awhile--it seemed to bea very long time to Gabriel--he rose, put on his hat, blew out one byone the lamps that rested in sconces along the wall, and went out intothe darkness.
Gabriel had remained in the tree, and with good reason. He knew thatwhoever fired the pistol, the reports of which added so largely to thepanic among the negroes, was very close to the tree where he had hidhimself, and so he waited, not patiently, perhaps, but with a very goodgrace. When Hotchkiss was out of sight, and presumably out of hearing,Gabriel heard some one calling his name. He made no answer at first, butthe call was repeated in a tone sufficiently loud to leave no room formistake.
"Tolliver, where are you? If you're asleep, wake up and show me anear-cut to town."
"Who are you?" Gabriel asked.
"One," replied the other.
"I don't know your voice," said Gabriel; "how did you know me?"
"That is a secret that belongs to the Knights of the White Camellia,"answered the unknown. "If you don't come down, I'm afraid I'll have toshake you out of that tree. Can't you slide down without hurting yourfeelings?"
Gabriel slid down the trunk of the small tree as quickly as he could,and found that the owner of the voice was no other than Major TomlinPerdue, of Halcyondale.
"You didn't expect to find me roosting around out here, did you?" theirrepressible Major asked, as he shook Gabriel warmly by the hand."Well, I fully expected to find you. Your grandmother told me an hourago that I'd find you mooning about on the hills back there. I didn'tfind you because I didn't care to go about bawling your name; so I camearound by the road. I was loafing around here when you came up, and Iknew it was you, as soon as I heard you slipping up that tree. But thathill business, and the mooning--how about them? You're in love, Ireckon. Well, I don't blame you. She's a fine gal, ain't she?"
"Who?" inquired Gabriel.
"Who!" cried Major Perdue, mockingly. "Why, there's but one gal in theDale. You know that as well as I do. She never has had her match, andshe'll never have one. And it's funny, too; no matter which way youspell her first name, backwards or forwards, it spells the same. Did youever think of that, Tolliver? But for Vallic--you know my daughter,don't you?--I never would have found it out in the world."
Gabriel laughed somewhat sheepishly, wondering all the time how MajorPerdue could think and talk of such trivial matters, in the face of thespectacle they had just witnessed.
"Well, you deserve good luck, my boy," the Major went on. "Everybodythat knows you is singing your praises--some for your book-learning,some for your modesty, and some for the way you ferreted out the designsof that fellow who was last to leave the church."
"I'm sure I don't deserve any praise," protested Gabriel.
"Continue to feel that way, and you'll get all the more," observed theMajor, sententiously. "But for you these dirty thieves might have gotthe best of us. Why, we didn't know, even at Halcyondale, what was uptill we got word of your discovery. Well, sir, as soon as we found outwhat was going on, we got together, and wiped 'em up. Why, you've gotthe pokiest crowd over here I ever heard of. They just sit and sunthemselves, and let these white devils do as they please. When they dowake up, the white rascals will be gone, and then they'll take theirspite out of the niggers--and the niggers ain't no more to blame for allthis trouble than a parcel of two-year-old children. You mark my words:the niggers will suffer, and these white rascals will go scot-free. Whydon't the folks here wake up? They can't be afraid of the Yankeesoldiers, can they? Why the Captain here is a rank Democrat in politics,and a right down clever fellow."
"He is a clever gentleman," Gabriel assented. "I have met him walkingabout in the woods, and I like him very much. He is a Kentuckian, andhe's not fond of these carpet-baggers and scalawags at all. But I nevertold anybody before that he is a good friend of mine. You know how theyare, especially the women--they hate everything that's clothed in blue."
"Well, by George! you are the only person in the place that keeps hiseyes open, and finds out things. You saw that rascal talking to theniggers awhile ago, didn't you? Well, he's the worst of the lot. He hasbeen preaching his social equality doctrine over in our town, but Ihappened to run across him t'other day, and I laid the law down to him.I told him I'd give him twenty-four hours to get out of town. He stayedthe limit; but when he saw me walk downtown with my shot-gun, he took anotion that I really meant business, and he lit out. Minervy Ann foundout where he was headed for, and I've followed him over here. He's theworst of the lot, and they're all rank poison."
Major Perdue paused a moment in his talk, as if reflecting. "Can youkeep a secret, Tolliver?" he asked after awhile.
"Well, I haven't had much practice, Major, but if it is important, I'lldo my best to keep it."
"Oh, it is not so important. That fellow you saw talking to the negroesawhile ago is named Bridalbin."
"Bridalbin!" exclaimed Gabriel.
"Yes; he goes by some other name, I've forgotten what. He used to hangaround Malvern some years before the war, and a friend of mine who livedthere knew him the minute he saw him. He's the fellow that marriedMargaret Gaither; you remember her; she came home to die not so verylong ago. Pulaski Tomlin adopted her daughter, or became the girl'sguardian. Now, Tolliver, whatever you do, don't breathe a word aboutthis Bridalbin--don't mention his name to a soul, not even to yourgrandmother. There's no need of worrying that poor girl; she has alreadyhad trouble enough in this world. I'm telling you about him because Iwant you to keep your eye on him. He's up to some kind of devilmentbesides exciting the niggers."
Gabriel promptly gave his word that he would never mention anythingabout Bridalbin's name, and then he said--"But this parade--what does itmean?"
The Major laughed. "Oh, that was just some of the boys from oursettlement. They are simply out for practice. They want to get theirhands in, as the saying is. They heard I was coming over, and so theyfollowed along. They don't belong to the Kuklux that you've read so muchabout. A chap from North Carolina came along t'other day, and told aboutthe Knights of the White Camellia, and the boys thought it would be agood idea to have a bouquet of their own. They have no signs orpasswords, but simply a general agreement. You'll have to organisesomething of that kind here, Tolliver. Oh, you-all are so infernallyslow out here in the country! Why, even in Atlanta, they have a YoungMen's Democratic Club. You've got to get a move on you. There's no wayout of it. The only way to fight the devil is to use his own weapons.The trouble is that some of the hot-headed youngsters want to hold thepoor niggers responsible, as I said just now, and the niggers are nomore to blame than the chicken in a new-laid egg. Don't forget that,Tolliver. I wouldn't give my old Minervy Ann for a hundred andseventy-five thousand of these white thieves and rascals; and JerryTomlin, fool as he is, is more of a gentleman than any of the men whohave misled him."
They walked back to the village the way Gabriel had come. On top of theBermuda hill, Major Perdue paused and looked toward Shady Dale. Lightswere still twinkling in some of the houses, but for the most part thetown was in darkness.
The Major waved his hand in that direction, remarking, "That's whatmakes the situation so dangerous, Tolliver--the women and the children.Here, and in hundreds of communities, and in the country places allabout, the women and children are in bed asleep, or they are laughingand talking, with only dim ideas of what is going on. It looks to me, myson, as if we were between the devil and the deep blue sea. I, for one,don't believe that there's any danger of a nigger-rising. But look atthe other side. I may be wrong; I may be a crazy old fool too fond ofthe niggers to believe they're
Gabriel agreed with all this very heartily. He was glad to feel that hisown views were also those of this keen, practical, hard-headed man ofthe world.
"But men of my sort will be misjudged, Tolliver," pursued the Major;"violent men will get in the saddle, and outrages will be committed, andinjustice will be done. Public opinion to the north of us will say thatthe old fire-eaters, who won't permit even a respectable white man toinsult them with impunity--the old slave-drivers--are trying to destroythe coloured race. But you will live, my son, to see some of these sameradicals admit that all the injustice and all the wrong is due to theradical policy."
This prophecy came true. Time has abundantly vindicated the Major andthose who acted with him.
"Yes, yes," Major Perdue went on musingly, "injustice will be done. Thefact is, it has already begun in some quarters. Be switched if itdoesn't look like you can't do right without doing wrong somewhere onthe road."
Gabriel turned this paradox over in his mind, as they walked along; butit was not until he was a man grown that it straightened itself out inhis mind something after this fashion: When a wrong is done theinnocent suffer along with the guilty; and the innocent also suffer inits undoing.
Shady Dale woke up the next morning to find the walls and the fences inall public places plastered with placards, or handbills, printed in redink. The most prominent feature of the typography, however, was not itscolour, but the image of a grinning skull and cross-bones. The handbillwas in the nature of a proclamation. It was dated "Den No. Ten, SecondMoon. Year 21,000 of the Dynasty." It read as follows:
"To all Lovers of Peace and Good Order--Greeting: Whereas, it has cometo the knowledge of the Grand Cyclops that evil-minded white men, anddeluded freedmen, are engaged in stirring up strife; and whereas it isknown that corruption is conspiring with ignorance--
"Therefore, this is to warn all and singular the persons who have madeor are now making incendiary propositions and threats, and all who arebanded together in secret political associations to forthwith ceasetheir activity. And let this warning be regarded as an order, theviolation of which will be followed by vengeance swift and sure. TheWhite Riders are abroad.
"Thrice endorsed by the Venerable, the Grand Cyclops, in behalf of theall-powerful Klan. (. (. (. K. K. K. .) .) .)"
Now, if this document had been in writing, it might have passed for ajoke, but it was printed, and this fact, together with its grave andformal style, gave it the dignity and importance of a genuineproclamation from a real but an unseen and unknown authority. It hadthe advantage of mystery, and there are few minds on which themysterious fails to have a real influence. In addition to this, thespectacular performance at the Rev. Jeremiah's church the night beforegave substance to the proclamation. That event was well calculated toawe the superstitious and frighten the timid.
The White Riders had disappeared as mysteriously as they came. Only oneperson was known to have seen them after they had left the church--itwas several days before the Rev. Jeremiah could be induced to relate hisexperience--and that person was Mr. Sanders. What he claimed to havewitnessed was even more alarming than the brief episode that occurred atthe Rev. Jeremiah's church. Mr. Sanders was called on to repeat thestory many times during the next few weeks, but it was observed by a fewof the more thoughtful that he described what he had seen with greaterfreedom and vividness when there was a negro within hearing. Hisnarrative was something like this:
"Gus Tidwell sent arter me to go look at his sick hoss, an' I went an'doctored him the best I know'd how, an' then started home ag'in. I hadbut one thought on my mind; Gus had offered to pay me for my troublesech as it was, an' I was tryin' for to figger out in my mind what inthe name of goodness had come over Gus. I come mighty nigh whirlin'roun' in my tracks, an' walkin' all the way back jest to see ef hedidn't need a little physic. He was cold sober at the time, an' all of asudden, when he seed that I had fetched his hoss through a mighty badcase of the mollygrubs, he says to me, 'Mr. Sanders,' says he, 'you'vesaved me a mighty fine hoss, an' I want to pay you for it. You've hadmighty hard work; what is it all wuth?' 'Gus,' says I, 'jest gi' me adrink of cold water for to keep me from faintin', an' we'll say no moreabout it.'
"Well, I didn't turn back, though I was much of a mind to. I mosiedalong wondering what had come over Gus. I had got as fur on my way homeas the big 'simmon tree--you-all know whar that is--when all of asudden, I felt the wind a-risin'. It puffed in my face, an' felt warm,sorter like when the wind blows down the chimbley in the winter time.Then I heard a purrin' sound, an' I looked up, an' right at me was agang of white hosses an' riders. They was right on me before I seed 'em,an' I couldn't 'a' got out'n the'r way ef I'd 'a' had the wings of ahummin'-bird. So I jest ketched my breath, an' bowed my head, an' triedto say, 'Now I lay me down to sleep.' I couldn't think of the rest, an'it wouldn't 'a' done no good nohow. I cast my eye aroun', findin' that Iwasn't trompled, an' the whole caboodle was gone. I didn't feel nothin'but the wind they raised, as they went over me an' up into the elements.Did you ever pass along by a pastur' at night, an' hear a cow fetch along sigh? Well, that's jest the kind of fuss they made as they passedout'n sight."
This story made a striking climax to the performances that the negroesthemselves had witnessed, and for a time they were subdued in theirdemeanour. They even betrayed a tendency to renew their old familiarrelations with the whites. The situation was not without its patheticside, and if Mr. Sanders professed to find it simply humourous, it wasonly because of the effort which men make--an effort that is only toosuccessful--to hide the tenderer side of their natures. But the episodeof the White Riders soon became a piece of history; the alarm that ithad engendered grew cold; and Hotchkiss, aided by Bridalbin, who calledhimself Boring, soon had the breach between the two races wider thanever.