What’s your interest in him?”
Gabriel thought first to fib, but Jacob had never given him reason to run or hide or be anything but a truehearted man. He showed the newsprint to his teacher.
While Jacob read the leaflet, Gabriel watched him and waited for his teacher to look up. “I desire liberty for all the people, too,” Gabriel told Jacob. He waited to see, on this day, what kind of patriot Jacob Kent would show himself to be. “Now. Jacob, I want freedom now, not tomorrow or in one year or ten years or one hundred. Right now.”
Jacob spoke softly, almost to himself. “You were a boy when you came here, wearing those damned fancy clothes that belonged to someone else and those small shoes that pinched up your feet. Not the casings of a smithy, eh? No, you were not yet the strapping, gifted smith standing here. But on the afternoon when we first met, I knew who you were.” He touched Gabriel’s temple. “You are your father’s son, Gabriel. Privileged men’s notions of a convenient liberty could never fool you or your father. And, Just-Gabriel, you are a man now.” Holding the paper, Jacob’s hands trembled. “Will you agree that your old teacher has treated you fairly?”
Gabriel took the aged, familiar face in his hands. I could never hurt you, Jacob, Gabriel thought, then he tried to explain. “Teacher, I was going to marry Nan. I planned to buy her freedom and then mine, but Johnson threatened to harm her. There is no law to protect my woman from such a villain. I am a man, Jacob. Nanny’s man. What was I supposed to do?” Gabriel asked. “What am I supposed to do right now?”
Jacob nodded slowly. “Son, there is no right now with liberty. Freedom takes time and patience.”
“I have never disagreed with you, but, truth is, there is only right now. And there is only one choice left for this business of liberty,” Gabriel told him.
“Do not mistake politics for principles. Adams is on Toussaint’s side because of America’s concerns with France, not because America believes in Toussaint,” said Jacob.
“Jacob, is freedom not America’s concern?” Gabriel asked him. “This forge is your own. You work and move about the city as you please. Do you love your freedom?”
“None but the wealthiest men among us move about fully as they please,” said Jacob.
Gabriel lowered his head in disappointment.
“You deserve your freedom because you are entitled from birth,” the old smith continued. “Liberty is a God-given right, Gabriel, not for man to dispense or withhold at will. But, son, I am old now. I have lived through one war.”
“But this is the unfinished business of your war,” said Gabriel. “There is no other choice left for me. Will you help me?”
The old man clung to Gabriel. “Yes, I will always be here, should you need me.”
For six weeks, Gabriel worked in Jacob’s forge, before returning to Brookfield. Jacob gave Gabriel the larger share of his profits for that time, and soon the Henrico blacksmith’s pocket was full of money. Still, the money he had earned was not enough to fully repay the bond to Thomas Henry and not nearly enough to manumit Nanny.
I return with only my heart and my hands to offer her, Gabriel thought, and he walked on back to Henrico.
Over and over on the road, he stopped, unfolded Quersey’s leaflet, and looked at the written-down story of Toussaint L’Ouverture’s success. He opened up the page to see the truth: all the world over, humanity now reached up to God and people reached out to each other for freedom.
Alone on the way back to Nanny, Gabriel recalled Toussaint’s cry to his people: “Death or liberty!”
Toussaint raised an army of four thousand and repelled the French and the British troops. Toussaint, who can read and write. Toussaint, but a slave. Toussaint, the black general. He thought of the game he and Thomas Henry once played.
“Yes!” Gabriel said aloud. “Death or liberty!” This time, the words were not
Gabriel thought first to fib, but Jacob had never given him reason to run or hide or be anything but a truehearted man. He showed the newsprint to his teacher.
While Jacob read the leaflet, Gabriel watched him and waited for his teacher to look up. “I desire liberty for all the people, too,” Gabriel told Jacob. He waited to see, on this day, what kind of patriot Jacob Kent would show himself to be. “Now. Jacob, I want freedom now, not tomorrow or in one year or ten years or one hundred. Right now.”
Jacob spoke softly, almost to himself. “You were a boy when you came here, wearing those damned fancy clothes that belonged to someone else and those small shoes that pinched up your feet. Not the casings of a smithy, eh? No, you were not yet the strapping, gifted smith standing here. But on the afternoon when we first met, I knew who you were.” He touched Gabriel’s temple. “You are your father’s son, Gabriel. Privileged men’s notions of a convenient liberty could never fool you or your father. And, Just-Gabriel, you are a man now.” Holding the paper, Jacob’s hands trembled. “Will you agree that your old teacher has treated you fairly?”
Gabriel took the aged, familiar face in his hands. I could never hurt you, Jacob, Gabriel thought, then he tried to explain. “Teacher, I was going to marry Nan. I planned to buy her freedom and then mine, but Johnson threatened to harm her. There is no law to protect my woman from such a villain. I am a man, Jacob. Nanny’s man. What was I supposed to do?” Gabriel asked. “What am I supposed to do right now?”
Jacob nodded slowly. “Son, there is no right now with liberty. Freedom takes time and patience.”
“I have never disagreed with you, but, truth is, there is only right now. And there is only one choice left for this business of liberty,” Gabriel told him.
“Do not mistake politics for principles. Adams is on Toussaint’s side because of America’s concerns with France, not because America believes in Toussaint,” said Jacob.
“Jacob, is freedom not America’s concern?” Gabriel asked him. “This forge is your own. You work and move about the city as you please. Do you love your freedom?”
“None but the wealthiest men among us move about fully as they please,” said Jacob.
Gabriel lowered his head in disappointment.
“You deserve your freedom because you are entitled from birth,” the old smith continued. “Liberty is a God-given right, Gabriel, not for man to dispense or withhold at will. But, son, I am old now. I have lived through one war.”
“But this is the unfinished business of your war,” said Gabriel. “There is no other choice left for me. Will you help me?”
The old man clung to Gabriel. “Yes, I will always be here, should you need me.”
For six weeks, Gabriel worked in Jacob’s forge, before returning to Brookfield. Jacob gave Gabriel the larger share of his profits for that time, and soon the Henrico blacksmith’s pocket was full of money. Still, the money he had earned was not enough to fully repay the bond to Thomas Henry and not nearly enough to manumit Nanny.
I return with only my heart and my hands to offer her, Gabriel thought, and he walked on back to Henrico.
Over and over on the road, he stopped, unfolded Quersey’s leaflet, and looked at the written-down story of Toussaint L’Ouverture’s success. He opened up the page to see the truth: all the world over, humanity now reached up to God and people reached out to each other for freedom.
Alone on the way back to Nanny, Gabriel recalled Toussaint’s cry to his people: “Death or liberty!”
Toussaint raised an army of four thousand and repelled the French and the British troops. Toussaint, who can read and write. Toussaint, but a slave. Toussaint, the black general. He thought of the game he and Thomas Henry once played.
“Yes!” Gabriel said aloud. “Death or liberty!” This time, the words were not
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