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and Sally were invited

  BLOODLINES 125

  to sit with them. Sally had baby Mary with her, and Rachel looked after

  Andrew junior, while Andrew dandled Lincoyen on his knee.

  Bands played, people cheered, and the soldiers were resplendent. James felt

  himself in the company of heroes. He never asked Andrew for the return of

  his money, nor was it ever offered. As the troops marched past the

  reviewing stand to the salutes of their general, someone called out three

  cheers for Old Hickory. The crowd took it up, and the air resounded with

  the calls of Andrew's name. James, standing beside him, was moved to tears.

  But Andrew had a surprise for them all. After the soldiers came a dozen

  Indian braves, prisoners, whom Andrew had brought back as hostages, or as

  evidence of the battles he had fought.

  They were the finest of the fine-on horseback, nearly naked, bedecked in

  war paint and feathers. The crowd hushed in awe at sight of them, for these

  were the warriors as they were seen only in battle, in dead of night or

  heat of day, when very few white men lived to describe them, and no white

  woman had survived the encounter.

  Their squaws walked behind them, and half-breeds with drums. Priests of the

  Cherokee and Chickasaw chanted ancient hymns in praise of the victor.

  To James, it was the most exotic and extraordinary experience of his life,

  and it caught at his soul.

  Before him was man in his purest, simplest form. Man of the wilderness, at

  one with the wild, lord of a lawless world, where survival required a

  consummate union with the earth and the heavens. Man the hunter, living

  from the land, and taking from it only what could be given back.

  Andrew had no need to guess what James was thinking, for he felt it, and

  assumed that every man would when confronted with the challenge of these

  splendid creatures. Yet he owed a debt to his friend, and tried to

  communicate to him what his money had bought.

  "It is to do battle on the plains of Mount Olympus," he said softly, so

  only James could hear, and perhaps Lincoyen.

  "The landscape itself could be the domain of the gods, for it is the very

  best of America, pristine and pure. The unsullied handiwork of God."

  126 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

  He didn't speak for a moment, but stared at the Indians.

  "These are not ordinary men," he said. "These are the most noble animals,

  bred by Hermes and blessed by Apollo. To do battle with them is to

  challenge the authority of Zeus."

  Suddenly, some strange and mysterious anger exploded in him, and he

  turned to James in fury.

  "And I choose to do it! I am not chosen by some panel or drafted by some

  committee! It is not my fate, for I am master of my own destiny. I choose

  to challenge these colossi, and I win! "

  Andrew had James completely in his thrall, and turned back to look at his

  prisoners again.

  "They are magnificent," he said softly.

  At that moment, James would have given everything he possessed,

  everything in the world-he would have sold his soul to the devil-to know,

  if only for a moment, the heroic, surpassing majesty it must be to kill

  an Indian.

  1~6

  Andrew had other spoils of war. Sent to negotiate a peace treaty with the

  Creek, he gave them an ultimatum, and would not concede one single point

  of it.

  Under threat of war and destruction, and in return for some small

  annuities to the chiefs, the elders of the tribes of the Creek, in

  council, ceded to Andrew Jackson, representative of the United States

  government, twenty-three million acres of land.

  It was half of the ancient realm of the Creek and covered most of Alabama

  and part of Georgia. Tennessee was no longer the frontier.

  For the restless, journeying settlers, a new paradise had been found.

  But before they could take possession of it, Andrew had to win another

  battle.

  BLOODLINES 127

  In order to teach the Americans a lesson, a small British expeditionary

  force had attacked the capital, Washington, and had set fire to the

  president's home. They withdrew and attacked Baltimore, but were repelled

  by gunfire. It didn't matter. The point had been made.

  Tired of the war, the British amassed an army of ten thousand veterans,

  who had served under Wellington against Napoleon, and prepared an

  invasion of America on two fronts. One army, under Sir Alexander

  Cochrane, took Maine and declared it part of New Brunswick. He seized

  Nantucket and made a foray into Long Island Sound. New England demanded

  Washington make peace and threatened secession from the Union.

  Another British army, with Jamaica as its base, was to attack New

  Orleans.

  Andrew had a spy in Florida, where some British units were inciting the

  Seminole to revolt, and got wind of the invasion plans. He implored the

  government to send him south, but Madison, perhaps because the peace

  negotiators in Belgium were close to an agreement, delayed his response.

  So Andrew acted on his own accord, with only the blessing of Governor

  Blount of Tennessee. He was now the military commander for the Southwest,

  so he took his troops to New Orleans, declared martial law, engaged every

  able-bodied man he could find, and waited for the British.

  He needed money for the venture, and James, once again, was only too

  happy to oblige. This time he would be repaid, not in cash out of

  Andrew's pocket or the federal treasury, but in something far more

  valuable than money.

  Andrew had succeeded in having John Coffee appointed as a surveyor to map

  the new territories acquired from the Creek, and Coffee's boundaries

  erred on the other side of caution. Once the survey was complete and

  Andrew had returned from New Orleans, a company was to be formed, the

  Cypress Development Company, with Coffee and other friends as its prin-

  cipals, and James as secretary, to promote and develop vast acreages of

  this new land. To the surprise of everyone except James, Andrew, who was

  a prime mover of the enterprise, took only a few modest shares in the

  company. James guessed that it was because of his political ambitions.

  Andrew did not want

  128 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

  his reputation to be sullied with the taint of speculation.

  The British landed near New Orleans, but Andrew did not wait to be

  attacked. He sent a small army into the British lines, under cover of

  night, and produced chaos and confusion. When the British reorganized

  themselves to attack, Andrew had completed his defenses. The British

  forces, unused to the swampy land and unprepared for Andrew's

  unconventional tactics, were routed.

  The battle of New Orleans was fought and won by Andrew at the beginning

  of January. Unknown to him, or to any of the participants, the

  negotiators in Ghent had signed a peace treaty between Britain and the

  United S
tates the previous Christmas Eve, two weeks earlier, but the news

  had not yet reached America.

  Nor did the Americans care. Andrew was hailed as the greatest general

  since Washington, the one true, unsullied victor in a useless war, even

  if the war was officially over when the battle was won. The country went

  wild for him, and he was proclaimed a hero. At a convention in Hartford,

  the New Englanders had agreed on an ultimatum that unless there was peace

  they would secede, but tore up the paper on the news of the victory and

  the subsequent news of the peace.

  There was nothing his country would not grant him. All Andrew had to do

  was ask.

  James, jubilant, assumed Andrew would run for president, and undoubtedly

  be elected. He had visions of himself as a powerful figure behind

  Andrew's throne, but the hero disappointed him. He was not ready for

  elective office yet; he enjoyed being a general far more, and there was

  work to be done.

  Because Andrew wanted Florida.

  It had been Andrew's ambition from the beginning. Florida had been held

  by the Spanish until Napoleon defeated them, and then the western section

  of it, which bordered the Gulf of Mexico, was annexed as a territory by

  the United States. The peninsula itself, still governed by Spain, was a

  wild and lawless land, peopled by pirates and hardy settlers, runaway

  slaves from Georgia and South Carolina, buccaneers, mercenaries, and

  criminals of all classes. During the war, the British had successfully

  incited some of the locals to revolt, and now the native Seminole

  Indians, together with some Creek who had

  BLOODLINES 129

  fled Alabama, took up arms. Andrew believed that the South was not safe

  until Florida had been brought to heel. He offered his services to the new

  president, James Monroe, and marched to Pensacola, leaving his affairs in

  the good hands of his friend James Jackson.

  Who didn't know what to do with the rest of his life.

  James had settled into a comfortable routine. Partly because of his

  financial success and his industrious relatives, and partly because of his

  friendship with Andrew, he was one of the most prominent citizens in

  Nashville. He and some others had founded the Arst Academy for Females,

  he was on several boards and committees, and he had political ambitions,

  but he was bored. His personal life was full and happy, although there was

  a small tragedy when Jimmy Hanna, Sara's husband, died of a fever, and

  Uncle Henry had passed away, but otherwise Sally and the children, Eleanor

  and Tom and their family, and Sara and hers flourished.

  He had achieved so much, and yet none of it was original, none of it was

  unique to him. Even his plantation had been created by someone else;

  James had simply acquired it in one of his land deals.

  He had outgrown Nashville, which once had seemed so perfect to him.

  He wanted to do something grand and extravagant, like Andrew, but he knew

  he was not suited for military endeavors. At the urging of John Coffee,

  he went to inspect the land in northern Alabama that had been acquired

  in the Creek war, and fell in love with the wonderful, empty country.

  A vision came to him, of a great estate that he would create, a vast

  cotton plantation that would be one of the finest in the country, and he

  would be a pioneer in this new territory, one of the first white settlers

  on the land so newly acquired, and one of its leading citizens.

  He took Sally on a trip to inspect the new territory, and she shared his

  enthusiasm. She knew he was bored, knew he needed some new challenge, and

  the prospect of building a home to their exact requirements intrigued

  her. She also remembered her early dreams with her first husband, of

  moving to the wilderness, and creating a sylvan idyll, and there was

  130 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

  enough of the girl in her and enough of the pioneer to want that still.

  Acquiring the land was easy. The Cypress Development Company struck a

  dcal with the government to exploit the area. Prior to Andrew's departure

  for Florida, the dining room at the Hermitage became a new boardroom, of

  peace not of war, and one in which James was a welcome participant. In

  long and cheerful sessions that went on till well past midnight, often

  fueled by liquor, they envisioned the development of northern Alabama.

  The lots would be decided according to John Coffee's survey. County

  boundaries were established. A new town would be laid out. It was to be

  called Florence, after the city in Tuscany, and architects and town

  planners were to be brought from Europe. It would be the finest city in

  the South, a cultural center and capital of a new Eden that would be

  peopled by those most honest and industrious of souls, the simple

  farmers, backbone of America.

  These were heady and exciting days for James, who, as secretary of the

  development company and Andrew's associate, was at the very center of the

  activity. He threw all his energy into the enterprise, and yet did not

  forget himself.

  He had a surprising visit from someone he had not seen in several years.

  Jimmy Doublehead, son of the chief, was living on a Chickasaw reservation

  to the south of Nashville, near Huntsville, and heard that James was

  involved in the new company. He came to see James to ask a favor. He

  wanted him to buy a particular piece of land.

  They rode together to the place Jimmy had in mind, and when James saw it,

  his heart skipped a beat. A few miles south of where the new town of

  Florence would be, at a confluence of two rivers whose banks were lined

  with untidy cypresses, the land was rolling and gentle, ideal for cotton.

  Some small distance from the river there was a hill, and it was this hill

  that interested Jimmy.

  "It is a holy place, sacred to my people," he told James. "It is a place

  of the old ones."

  In the Indian mythology, the spirit of a warrior did not die with his

  body, but simply moved to a higher plane, and was available to the living

  for advice and counsel. Once a year,

  BLOODLINES 131

  old Chief Doublehead had called the other Cherokee chiefs to this place,

  and they had listened to the guidance of the old ones.

  James was deeply moved by the land and its significance, and felt humble.

  "Why have you come to me, Jimmy?" he asked the young man.

  "Because you were his friend, and you were kind to our people," Jimmy

  said. "You will preserve his memory."

  James spent the afternoon exploring the land, and told Jimmy he would buy

  it, no matter what the cost. Already he could see a mansion rising on the

  sacred hill, but he was determined to do as Jimmy asked, and preserve

  Doublehead's memory.

  "I will put a wigwam here," he said, pointing to an open space at the

  edge of the little hill. "And it will be available to a family of your

  tribe for all time, so that they may be near the old ones."
/>
  Jimmy said nothing, but bowed his head, in what James thought was

  gratitude. He could not know the despair that Jimmy, and all the Indians,

  were experiencing at this loss of their land. What Jimmy had done was

  pragmatic, but not his most desired solution.

  The deal for the land was simple. The Cypress Development Company

  guaranteed to develop a minimum number of acres, and the government would

  receive two dollars an acre regardless of whether the land was sold or

  not. Whatever else was bid would be profit to the developers.

  The auction was a circus. The first five thousand acres sold at an

  average of forty-five dollars an acre. The end of the war and the

  resolution of the old arguments with Britain, the swarming tide of

  immigrants from Ireland and Europe, and the availability of the new land

  opened the floodgates to settlements, and buyers flocked to the sales.

  The past president, James Madison, came with President Monroe. A

  potential presidential candidate came when Andrew Jackson made a special

  trip from Florida to bid for a lot. Out of respect for his service to the

  country, no one bid against him. The only land that was sold at the

  government minimum was sold to Andrew.

  132 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

  The gentry from five states came. Farmers from major, medium, and small

  land holdings came. Newcomers bought their first lots. Poor whites bid

  for a few scrubby acres to get a start in life. River frontage and the

  town sites fetched the highest prices, eighty-five dollars an acre.

  Church sites were purchased by Methodists, Baptists, Presbyterians, and

  Roman Catholics.

  The directors of the Cypress Development Company bought land for personal

  use or for private resale. Apart from the site of his plantation, James

  bought twelve lots for himself, and another three in partnership with

  John Coffee.

  By the end of the four-day sale, James was rich beyond his wildest

  imaginings.

  On the afternoon of the last day, he drove Sally to the place that was to

  be their new home, and she loved it as much as he. Together they chose a

  name. It would be called The Forks of Cypress, for it lay where the two

  rivers, the Big Cypress and the Little Cypress, joined. He told her of its

  holy significance, and that he believed the land was blessed.

  It was a magic time, a cool, crisp day, and the winter sun lay low on the

  horizon. Sally wandered away to inspect the property, and James was on

  his own for a few minutes.

  He stared at the land. His land.

  "You will never amount to anything."

  His father's final words to him rang in his ears, and he laughed out

  loud, for he had proved them so wrong. He shivered at the awesome

  achievement, and thought it was the cold, but then he saw a small group

  of Indians standing on the path at the bottom of the hill, staring at

  him.

  They did wothing and saidnothing. They simply stared at him, or at the

  hill that was the home of the old ones, as if they were looking at what

  they had lost.

  James shivered again, and turned and called for Sally. She came to him,

  and when he looked back, the Indians had gone. He could not swear that

  they had been there.

  "What is it, what's wrong?" Sally asked him. James laughed and threw

  aside his odd feeling of melancholy, or failure, or betrayal.

  "Nothing," he said. "I'm a sentimental old fool, that's

  all."

  BLOODLINES 133

  She laughed, and took his hand. James pulled her to him and kissed her,

  lightly at first, but then with passion.

  Sally looked at him in surprise, for his need was urgent.

  "I want you," he whispered, "Here. Now."

  He kissed her again, as violently as he had ever kissed her. He laid her

  on the ground, and took her there, in the open, like a peasant boy, as

  once, when young, he had taken a peasant girl under a hayrick in a

  flawless Irish summer that he had spent with Sean.

  At the moment of his climax, he pulled himself from her and spilled his

  seed upon the ground, as if to consummate his union with the land.