A FOOL'S ERRAND & Its Sequel, Bricks Without Straw. Albion Winegar Tourgée
"Ah!"
"Yes: I have noticed, that, when you are in town, you frequently leave about the time you did to-night. Now, you ought to know that your speech, and indeed what you have to say whenever you speak at all in regard to public matters, is very distasteful to our people, especially when they congregate in the town, and get filled up and warmed up."
"So you think a man can not be allowed to have his own opinions, but must have them countersigned by a committee of his neighbors before he makes them the coin of current speech," said the Fool somewhat sternly.
"No: I didn't come here to quarrel with your opinions, nor even with your time and manner of declaring them," answered the other. "I am not at all sure that you are not right in your notions. They are certainly very plausible, and to your mind, I doubt not, are quite unanswerable. However, I do think that you might learn a little prudence from the men you associate with. I saw you talking with David Nelson to-day. He is one of those I mean. A better Union man never stood between soil and sunshine; and I'll wager something he advised you to be cautious, not only as to what you said, but when and where you said it."
"Of course he did!" said the Fool, laughing. "It seems as if all these Union men were afraid to say their souls were their own."
"If they had not been cautious, their souls would have been all that could be called their own," said the doctor hotly. "I was not a Union man," he continued. "I am half ashamed to say it; for I knew and felt that secession and the Confederacy were simply folly. But the truth is, I had not the nerve: I couldn't stand the pressure. But I practiced here among these Union people, and was also with the army part of the time. I was at Fredericksburg when your people tried to take it; and I tell you now, Colonel, I would rather have come with your fellows across that bare plateau to the foot of St. Marye's Hill than have faced what these Union people here did, day after day, during the whole war. I saw many a strange thing; but I learned to hold my tongue from very admiration of their pluck."
"No doubt," said the Fool; "but, they seem to have been more thoroughly whipped than you rebels have been. I can not understand why they should not speak out, and show their colors openly, now. Why, only the other day, I was invited to a Union meeting; and, thinking it might be a pleasant thing, I took along a garrison flag which I happened to have, and festooned it over the platform above where the speakers were to stand. In a little while some of the leading men came to me, and asked if I would not have it taken down. They were glad to see it, and all that, they said; but they were afraid it might cause trouble."
"You did not take it down, of course," said the doctor.
"You may well say that! I would have died before it should have been lowered an inch. I fought for a right to put it there, and would fight to keep it there," said the Fool warmly.
"There is not a doubt about that, Colonel," rejoined the other; "and yet it does seem to me, with all respect, that you were foolish to put it there. I can no more understand you than you can understand the Union people about you. Did you ever think that the Union people here are vastly in a minority, and that the rest of us — I mean the mass of our people — regard this needless flaunting of that flag in our faces as an insult and an arrogance on your part? Even your wearing of that old uniform coat, though I am glad to see that you have sacrificed the buttons, is regarded as a taunt. You should remember that you are one of the conquerors, in the midst of the conquered."
"But I have no hatred, no ill-will, towards any one who wore the gray," said the Fool protestingly.
"I am sure of that, or I would not have ridden out here to do you a good turn to-night," said the doctor.
"I do not understand you."
"I suppose not. But you can understand, that, if I felt confident of meeting you here for a friendly purpose, one who had an unfriendly one might be equally sure of doing so?"
"Do you mean to say that I might be waylaid?"
"I mean to say," said the doctor significantly, "that, if I were you, I would not make a habit of traveling any particular road after dark."
"But" —
"I shall answer no questions, Colonel, and will bid you good-night." He turned his horse, and was about to ride off, when he drew rein, and said, —
"You need have no fear to-night, and I suppose I need not request you to say nothing of this meeting. Good-night."
He gave his horse the rein, and cantered away towards the town with that easy, swaying seat, characteristic of the leisurely, well-to-do Southern man, who has been in the saddle almost every day from his infancy, who rides, not so much for the sake of riding as for covering the ground with the least inconvenience to himself and his horse. When this easy lope had carried the doctor around a bend of the wood, and only the measured thud of the horse's hoofs came back to his ear, the Fool rode out from under the shadow of the water-oak, and made his way thoughtfully homeward. If he scanned the thickets closely, and started when a stray cow burst with considerable noise through the half-lighted under-growth, he may be pardoned, after the repeated warnings of the day.
CHAPTER XXIII
THE DIE IS CAST
WHEN the time for the election of delegates to a Constitutional Convention was near at hand, the Union men of the county held a meeting to nominate candidates. The colored people, as yet unused to political assemblages, but with an indistinct impression that their rights and interests were involved, attended in large numbers. The Union men were few, and not of that class who were accustomed to the lead and control of such meetings. The place of assembly selected was an old country schoolhouse some two miles from the county-seat, and situated in a beautiful grove. The Fool, partly from curiosity, and partly to give such aid and countenance as he might to a movement which was based upon a recognition and support of the Federal Union as contradistinguished from the idea of voluntary secession and disintegration, attended the meeting, though hardly half-convinced of the practicability and wisdom of the proposed plan of reconstruction. By this time he was well known in the county, and, quite unconsciously to himself, regarded as a leader in the movement. Accustomed to command for four years, and previous to that time imbued with the spirit of ready and hearty co-operation and participation in matters of public interest which is almost the birthright of the Northern citizen, he was vexed and troubled at the retiring hesitancy of the Union men by whom he was surrounded. Why a hundred or a thousand men should come together for a particular purpose, and then "hem and haw," and wait for some one to move first, he could not understand. When he came on the ground, the hour for which the meeting had been appointed had already arrived. The colored people had gathered in a dense mass on one side of the platform, waiting in earnest expectancy to take whatever part might be allotted to them in the performance of the new and untried duties of citizenship. The white men were squatted about in little groups, conversing in low, uneasy tones, and glancing suspiciously at every new-comer. A little at one side was Colonel Ezekiel Vaughn, with a few cronies, laughing and talking boisterously about the different men who were taking part in the movement. This seemed to have a wonderfully depressing effect upon the white Unionists, who evidently dreaded his clamorous ridicule, and feared that some disturbance might ensue, should they attempt to proceed.
"Well," said the Fool, as he approached a group of a dozen or more, seated in a circle under a giant oak, "why don't you begin?"
"Hist!" said one of those whom he addressed. "Don't you see those fellows?" at the same time nodding, and winking towards Vaughn and his crowd.
"See them?" he replied, as he glanced towards them. "Yes. Why?"
"They've come here for a row," answered the other.
"Pshaw!" said the Fool. "They don't want any row; but, if they do, let them have it."
"But we can't do any thing if they have made up their minds to break up the meeting," said the Unionist.
"Break up the meeting!