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Bricks Without Straw: A Novel
Chapter 53. In The Cyclone
Albion Winegar Tourgee
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       _ CHAPTER LIII. IN THE CYCLONE
       Then the storm burst. Every possible story was set afloat. The more absurd it seemed the more generally was it credited. Men talked and women chattered of nothing but Hesden Le Moyne, his infamous "negro-loving Radicalism," his infatuation with the "Yankee school-marm," the anger of his mother, his ill-treatment of his cousin, Hetty Lomax; his hiding of the "nigger preacher" in the loft of the dining-room, his alliance with the Red Wing desperadoes to "burn every white house on that side of the river"--in short, his treachery, his hypocrisy, his infamy.
       On the street, in the stores, at the churches--wherever men met--this was the one unfailing theme of conversation. None but those who have seen a Southern community excited over one subject or one man can imagine how much can be said about a little matter. The newspapers of that and the adjoining counties were full of it. Colored men were catechized in regard to it. His friends vied with his enemies in vituperation, lest they should be suspected of a like offense. He was accounted a monster by many, and an enemy by all who had been his former associates, and, strangely enough, was at once looked upon as a friend and ally by every colored man, and by the few white men of the county who secretly or silently held with the "Radicals." It was the baptism of fire which every Southern man must face who presumes to differ from his fellows upon political questions.
       Nothing that he had previously done or said or been could excuse or palliate his conduct. The fact that he was of a good family only rendered his alliance with "niggers" against his own race and class the more infamous. The fact that he was a man of substantial means, and had sought no office or aggrandizement by the votes of colored men, made his offence the more heinous, because he could not even plead the poor excuse of self-interest. The fact that he had served the Confederacy well, and bore on his person the indubitable proof of gallant conduct on the field of battle, was a still further aggravation of his act, because it marked him as a renegade and a traitor to the cause for which he had fought. Compared with a Northern Republican he was accounted far more infamous, because of his desertion of his family, friends, comrades, and "the cause of the South"--a vague something which no man can define, but which "fires the Southern heart" with wonderful facility. Comparison with the negro was still more to his disadvantage, since he had "sinned against light and knowledge," while they did not even know their own "best friends." And so the tide of detraction ebbed and flowed while Hesden was absent, his destination unknown, his return a matter of conjecture, and his purpose a mystery.
       The most generally-accepted theory was that he had gone to Washington for the purpose of maliciously misrepresenting and maligning the good people of Horsford, in order to secure the stationing of soldiers in that vicinity, and their aid in arresting and bringing to trial, for various offences against the peace and persons of the colored people, some of the leading citizens of the county. In support of this they cited his intimate relations with Jordan Jackson, as well as with Nimbus and Eliab. It was soon reported that Jackson had met him at Washington; that Nimbus Desmit had also arrived there; that the whole party had been closeted with this and that leading "Radical"; and that the poor, stricken, down-trodden South--the land fairest and richest and poorest and most peaceful and most chivalric, the most submissive and the most defiant; in short, the most contradictory in its self-conferred superlatives--that this land of antipodal excellences must now look for new forms of tyranny and new measures of oppression.
       The secrecy which had been preserved for three months in regard to Eliab's place of concealment made a most profound impression upon Hesden's neighbors of the County of Horsford. They spoke of it in low, horrified tones, which showed that they felt deeply in regard to it. It was ascertained that no one in his family knew of the presence of Eliab until the morning of his removal. Miss Hetty made haste to declare that in her two months and more of attendance upon the invalid she had never dreamed of such a thing. The servants stoutly denied all knowledge of it, except Charles, who could not get out of having cut the door through into the other room. It was believed that Hesden had himself taken all the care of the injured man, whose condition was not at all understood. How badly he had been hurt, or in what manner, none could tell. Many visited the house to view the place of concealment. Only the closed doors could be seen, for Hesden had taken the key with him. Some suggested that Nimbus was still concealed there, and several advised Mrs. Le Moyne to get some one to go into the room. However, as no one volunteered to go, nothing came of this advice. It was rumored, too, that Hesden had brought into the county several detectives, who had stolen into the hearts of the unsuspecting people of Horsford, and had gone Northward loaded down with information that would make trouble for some of the "best men."
       It was generally believed that the old attic over the dining-room had long been a place where "Radicals" had been wont to meet in solemn conclave to "plot against the whites." A thousand things were remembered which confirmed this view. It was here that Hesden had harbored the detectives, as Rahab had hidden the spies. It was quite evident that he had for a long time been an emissary of the Government at Washington, and no one could guess what tales of outrage he might not fabricate in order to glut his appetite for inhuman revenge. The Southern man is always self-conscious. He thinks the world has him in its eye, and that he about fills the eye. This does not result from comparative depreciation of others so much as from a habit of magnifying his own image. He always poses for effect. He walks, talks, and acts "as if he felt the eyes of Europe on his tail," almost as much as the peacock.
       There are times, however, when even he does not care to be seen, and it was observed that about this time there were a goodly number of the citizens of Horsford who modestly retired from the public gaze, some of them even going into remote States with some precipitation and an apparent desire to remain for a time unknown. It was even rumored that Hesden was with Nimbus, disguised as a negro, in the attack made on the Klan during the raid on Red Wing, and that, by means of the detectives, he had discovered every man engaged in that patriotic affair, as well as those concerned in others of like character. The disappearance of these men was, of course, in no way connected with this rumor. Since the "Southern people" have become the great jesters of the world, their conduct is not at all to be judged by the ordinary rules of cause and effect as applied to human action. It might have been mere buffoonery, quite as well as modesty, that possessed some of the "best citizens of Horsford" with an irrepressible desire to view the Falls of Niagara from the Canadian side in mid-winter. There is no accounting for the acts of a nation of masqueraders!
       But perhaps the most generally-accepted version of Hesden's journey was that he had run away to espouse Mollie Ainslie. To her was traced his whole bias toward the colored population and "Radical" principles. Nothing evil was said of her character. She was admitted to be as good as anybody of her class could be--intelligent, bigoted, plucky, pretty, and malicious. It was a great pity that a man belonging to a good family should become infatuated by one in her station. He could never bring her home, and she would never give up her "nigger-equality notions." She had already dragged him down to what he was. Such a man as he, it was strenuously asserted, would not degrade himself to stand up for such a man as Jordan Jackson or to associate with "niggers," without some powerful extraneous influence. That influence was Mollie Ainslie, who, having inveigled him into "Radicalism," had now drawn him after her into the North and matrimony.
       But nowhere did the conduct of Hesden cause more intense or conflicting feelings than at Mulberry Hill. His achievement in succoring, hiding, and finally rescuing Eliab Hill was a source of never-ending wonder, applause, and mirth in the kitchen. But Miss Hetty could not find words to express her anger and chagrin. Without being at all forward or immodest, she had desired to succeed her dead sister in the good graces of Hesden Le Moyne, as well as in the position of mistress of the Hill. It was a very natural and proper feeling. They were cousins, had always been neighbors, and Hesden's mother had encouraged the idea, almost from the time of his first wife's death. It was no wonder that she was jealous of the Yankee school-marm. Love is keen-eyed, and she really loved her cousin. She had become satisfied, during her stay at the Hill, that he was deeply attached to Mollie Ainslie, and knew him too well to hope that he would change; and such a conviction was, of course, not pleasant to her vanity. But when she was convinced that he had degraded himself and her by espousing "Radicalism" and associating with "niggers," her wrath knew no bounds. It seemed an especial insult to her that the man whom she had honored with her affection should have so demeaned himself.
       Mrs. Le Moyne was at first astonished, then grieved, and finally angry. She especially sympathized with Hetty, the wreck of whose hope she saw in this revelation. If Mollie Ainslie had been "one of our people," instead of "a Northern nigger school-teacher," there would have been nothing so very bad about it. He had never professed any especial regard or tenderness for Miss Hetty, and had never given her any reason to expect a nearer relation than she had always sustained toward him. Mollie was good enough in her way, bright and pretty and--but faugh! the idea! She would not believe it! Hesden was not and could not be a "Radical." He might have sheltered Eliab--ought to have done so; that she would say. He had been a slave of the family, and had a right to look to her son for protection. But to be a "Radical!" She would not believe it. There was no use in talking to her. She remained stubbornly silent after she had gotten to the conclusive denial: "He could not do it!"
       Nevertheless, she thought it well to use her power while she had any. If he was indeed a "Radical," she would never forgive him--never! So she determined to make her will. A man learned in the law was brought to the Hill, and Hester Le Moyne, in due form, by her last will and testament devised the plantation to her beloved son Hesden Le Moyne, and her affectionate cousin Hetty Lomax, jointly, and to their heirs forever, on condition that the said devisees should intermarry with each other within one year from the death of the devisor; and in case either of the said devisees should refuse to intermarry with the other, then the part of such devisee was to go to the other, who should thereafter hold the fee in severalty, free of all claim from the other.
       The New York and Boston papers contained, day after day, this "personal:"
       "The heirs of James Richards, deceased, formerly of Marblehead, Massachusetts, will learn something to their advantage by addressing Theron Pardee, care of James & Jones, Attorneys, at No. -- Broadway, N. Y."
       Mrs. Le Moyne was well aware of this, and also remembered her promise to surrender the estate, should an heir be found. But that promise had been made under the influence of Hesden's ardent zeal for the right, and she found by indirection many excuses for avoiding its performance. "Of course," she said to herself, "if heirs should be found in my lifetime, I would revoke this testament; but it is not right that I should bind those who come after me for all time to yield to his Quixotic notions. Besides, why should I be juster than the law? This property has been in the family for a long time, and ought to remain there."
       Her anger at Hesden burned very fiercely, and she even talked of refusing to see him, should he return, as she had no real doubt he would. The excitement, however, prostrated her as usual, and her anger turned into querulous complainings as she grew weaker.
       The return of Hesden, hardly a week after his departure, brought him to face this tide of vituperation at its flood. All that had been said and written and done in regard to himself came forthwith to his knowledge. He was amazed, astounded for a time, at the revelation. He had not expected it. He had expected anger, and was prepared to meet it with forbearance and gentleness; but he was not prepared for detraction and calumny and insult. He had not been so very much surprised at the odium which had been heaped upon Jordan Jackson. He belonged to that class of white people at the South to whom the better class owed little duty or regard. It was not so strange that they should slander that man. He could understand, too, how it was that they attributed to the colored people such incredible depravity, such capacity for evil, such impossible designs, as well as the reason why they invented for every Northern man that came among them with ideas different from their own a fictitious past, reeking with infamy.
       He could sympathize in some degree with all of this. He had not thought, himself, that it was altogether the proper thing for the illiterate "poor-white" man, Jordan Jackson, to lead the negroes of the county in political hostility to the whites. He had felt naturally the distrust of the man of Northern birth which a century of hostility and suspicion had bred in the air of the South. He had grown up in it. He had been taught to regard the "Yankees" (which meant all Northerners) as a distinct people--sometimes generous and brave, but normally envious, mean, low-spirited, treacherous, and malignant. He admitted the exceptions, but they only proved the rule. As a class he considered them cold, calculating, selfish, greedy of power and wealth, and regardless of the means by which these were acquired. Above all things, he had been taught to regard them as animated by hatred of the South. Knowing that this had been his own bias, he could readily excuse his neighbors for the same.
       But in his own case it was different. He was one of themselves. They knew him to be brave, honorable, of good family, of conservative instincts, fond of justice and fair play, and governed in his actions only by the sincerest conviction. That they should accuse him of every mean and low impossibility of act and motive, and befoul his holiest purposes and thoughts, was to him a most horrible thing. His anger grew hotter and hotter, as he listened to each new tale of infamy which a week had sufficed to set afloat. Then he heard his mother's reproaches, and saw that even her love was not proof against a mere change of political sentiment on his part. These things set him to thinking as he had never thought before. The scales fell from his eyes, and from the kindly gentle Southern man of knightly instincts and gallant achievements was born--the "pestiferous Radical." He did not hesitate to avow his conviction, and from that moment there was around him a wall of fire. He had lost his rank, degraded his caste, and fallen from his high estate. From and after that moment he was held unworthy to wear the proud appellation, "A Southern Gentleman."
       However, as he took no active part in political life, and depended in no degree upon the patronage or good will of his neighbors for a livelihood, he felt the force of this feeling only in his social relations. Unaware, as yet, of the disherison which his mother had visited upon him in his absence, he continued to manage the plantation and conduct all the business pertaining to it in his own name, as he had done ever since the close of the war. At first he entertained a hope that the feeling against him would die out. But as time rolled on, and it continued still potent and virulent, he came to analyze it more closely, judging his fellows by himself, and saw that it was the natural fruit of that intolerance which slavery made necessary--which was essential to its existence. Then he no longer wondered at them, but at himself. It did not seem strange that they should feel as they did, but rather that he should so soon have escaped from the tyrannical bias of mental habit. He saw that the struggle against it must be long and bitter, and he determined not to yield his convictions to the prejudices of others.
       It was a strange thing. In one part of the country--and that the greater in numbers, in wealth, in enterprise and vigor, in average intelligence and intellectual achievements--the sentiments he had espoused were professed and believed by a great party which prided itself upon its intelligence, purity, respectability, and devotion to principle. In two thirds of the country his sentiments were held to be honorable, wise, and patriotic. Every act he had performed, every principle he had reluctantly avowed, would there have been applauded of all men. Nay, the people of that portion of the country were unable to believe that any one could seriously deny those principles. Yet in the other portion, where he lived, they were esteemed an ineffaceable brand of shame, which no merit of a spotless life could hide.
       The Southern Clarion, a newspaper of the County of Horsford, in referring to his conduct, said:
       "Of all such an example should be made. Inaugurate social ostracism against every white man who gives any support to the Radical Party. Every true Southern man or woman should refuse to recognize as a gentleman any man belonging to that party, or having any dealings with it. Hesden Le Moyne has chosen to degrade an honored name. He has elected to go with niggers, nigger teachers, and nigger preachers; but let him forever be an outcast among the respectable and high minded white people of Horsford, whom he has betrayed and disgraced!"
       A week later, it contained another paragraph:
       "We understand that the purpose of Hesden Le Moyne in going to the North was not entirely to stir up Northern prejudice and hostility against our people. At least, that is what he claims. He only went, we are informed he says, to take the half-monkey negro preacher who calls himself Eliab Hill to a so-called college in the North to complete his education. We shall no doubt soon have this misshapen, malicious hypocrite paraded through the North as an evidence of Southern barbarity.
       "The truth is, as we are credibly informed, that what injuries he received on the night of the raid upon Red Wing were purely accidental. There were some in the company, it seems, who were disappointed at not finding the black desperado, Nimbus Desmit, who was organizing his depraved followers to burn, kill, and ravish, and proposed to administer a moderate whipping to the fellow Eliab, who was really supposed to be at the bottom of all the other's rascality. These few hot-heads burst in the door of his cabin, but one of the oldest and coolest of the crowd rushed in and, at the imminent risk of his own life, rescued him from them. In order to bring him out into the light where he could be protected, he caught the baboon-like creature by his foot, and he was somewhat injured thereby. He is said to have been shot also, but we are assured that not a shot was fired, except by some person with a repeating rifle, who fired upon the company of white men from the woods beyond the school-house. It is probable that some of these shots struck the preacher, and it is generally believed that they were fired by Hesden Le Moyne. Several who were there have expressed the opinion that, from the manner in which the shooting was done, it must have been by a man with one arm. However, Eliab will make a good Radical show, and we shall have another dose of Puritanical, hypocritical cant about Southern barbarity. Well, we can bear it. We have got the power in Horsford, and we mean to hold it. Niggers and nigger-worshippers must take care of themselves. This is a white man's country, and white men are going to rule it, no matter whether the North whines or not."
       The report given in this account of the purpose of Hesden's journey to the North was the correct one. In the three months in which the deformed man had been under his care, he had learned that a noble soul and a rare mind were shut up in that crippled form, and had determined to atone for his former coolness and doubt, as well as mark his approval of the course of this hunted victim, by giving him an opportunity to develop his powers. He accordingly placed him in a Northern college, and became responsible for the expenses of his education. _
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本书目录

Preface
Chapter 1. Tri-Nominate
Chapter 2. The Font
Chapter 3. The Junonian Rite
Chapter 4. Mars Meddles
Chapter 5. Nunc Pro Tunc
Chapter 6. The Toga Virilis
Chapter 7. Damon And Pythias
Chapter 8. A Friendly Prologue
Chapter 9. A Bruised Reed
Chapter 10. An Express Trust
Chapter 11. Red Wing
Chapter 12. On The Way To Jericho
Chapter 13. Negotiating A Treaty
Chapter 14. Born Of The Storm
Chapter 15. To Him And His Heirs Forever
Chapter 16. A Child Of The Hills
Chapter 17. Good-Morrow And Farewell
Chapter 18. "Prime Wrappers"
Chapter 19. The Shadow Of The Flag
Chapter 20. Phantasmagoria
Chapter 21. A Child-Man
Chapter 22. How The Fallow Was Seeded
Chapter 23. An Offering Of First-Fruits
Chapter 24. A Black Democritus
Chapter 25. A Double-Headed Argument
Chapter 26. Taken At His Word
Chapter 27. Motes In The Sunshine
Chapter 28. In The Path Of The Storm
Chapter 29. Like And Unlike
Chapter 30. An Unbidden Guest
Chapter 31. A Life For A Life
Chapter 32. A Voice From The Darkness
Chapter 33. A Difference Of Opinion
Chapter 34. The Majesty Of The Law
Chapter 35. A Particular Tenancy Lapses
Chapter 36. The Beacon-Light Of Love
Chapter 37. The "Best Friends" Reveal Themselves
Chapter 38. "The Rose Above The Mould"
Chapter 39. What The Mist Hid
Chapter 40 Dawning
Chapter 41. Q. E. D.
Chapter 42. Through A Cloud-Rift
Chapter 43. A Glad Good-By
Chapter 44. Putting This And That Together
Chapter 45. Another Ox Gored
Chapter 46. Backward And Forward
Chapter 47. Breasting The Torrent
Chapter 48. The Price Of Honor
Chapter 49. Highly Resolved
Chapter 50. Face Answereth To Face
Chapter 51. How Sleep The Brave?
Chapter 52. Redeemed Out Of The House Of Bondage
Chapter 53. In The Cyclone
Chapter 54. A Bolt Out Of The Cloud
Chapter 55. An Unconditional Surrender
Chapter 56. Some Old Letters
Chapter 57. A Sweet And Bitter Fruitage
Chapter 58. Coming To The Front
Chapter 59. The Shuttlecock Of Fate
Chapter 60. The Exodian
Chapter 61. What Shall The End Be?
Chapter 62. How?