The following day, both James and Sally caught chills and laughed together
that it was because of their open-air frolicking in the winter weather.
Sally's cold took a natural course and was gone in a few days, but James
got steadily worse. By the time they were back in Nashville, he had
congestive fever. He took to his bed, but the sickness did not diminish
his passion for his new project. He engaged an architect to draw plans for
a magnificent mansion, but the effort exhausted him. He fretted that he
was losing time.
Sally took command. She asked their good friends John McKinley and Henry
Clay, Jr., to scour the South, to locate and hire, or buy, the best
available slave artisans and craftsmen, masons, carpenters, ironworkers,
and plasterers to build The Forks of Cypress.
James, from his sickbed, anxious to move to his new home, gave orders
that a log cabin should be built for his family at the edge of the site,
and a small schoolhouse for the children.
He began disposing of his assets in Nashville. He called Washington and
Thomas Kirkman to him, and offered them his interest in the store.
Washington laughed that he didn't want it, he was well set up in New
Orleans and loved the life, so the store was formally deeded to Thomas
Kirkman for the sum of one dollar, in the name of Irish friendship.
Thomas was flabbergasted. Eleanor wept, and blessed her generous brother.
James did not want to move his precious blooded horses to Alabama until
proper stables and a racetrack had been built,
134 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
and so he arranged that his trainer, Colonel Elliot, should run the stables
in Nashville, and be responsible for the horses. He made Elliot a partner in
the enterprise.
He sold his plantation and most of his land. In the new year, he cast aside
his illness as he cast aside his old life, and moved his family to the
hastily constructed log cabin, to supervise the building of his mansion.
Now he had everything he had ever wanted. Now he was everything he had ever
wanted to be.
In Florida, fortune briefly deserted her darling. Andrew's military
victories were impressive, but the ruthlessness with which he inflicted his
will on the Seminole was causing agitated controversy in Washington. When he
executed two Christian missionaries, claiming they had incited the Indians
to revolt, the controversy became uproar. When he invaded Pensacola for a
second time and imprisoned the governor for sheltering Indians, the uproar
became deafening. The loudest voices against him were William Crawford, the
secretary of war, and his onetime friend Henry Clay. The House of Rep-
resentatives threatened censure.
The furious Andrew traveled to Washington to defend himself, and prevailed.
All the motions against him were defeated. Because of his military success,
the Spanish formally sold Florida to the United States for five million
dollars.
Andrew was given a hero's welcome in New York, Baltimore, and Philadelphia,
and then returned to Nashville, to the Hermitage, and to his beloved
Rachel. His feathers were ruffled, but his honor was satisfied.
The following summer, Andrew was appointed governor of Florida, but he came
to see James, because he had some other business to attend to first.
He admired the mansion, which was now nearing completion, a simple elegant
building in the temple style, with three enormous chimneys and twenty-one
white columns surrounding the veranda at even intervals. A wide entrance
hall ran through the middle of the house, with a cross hall at the rear.
The kitchen and laundry were outhouses, attached to the main building by
covered walkways.
Andrew helped James plant a magnolia sapling at the edge
BLOODLINES 135
of the hill on what would be the lawn, and played with the new baby,
Sarah.
"A sassy little thing," he laughed. "But there are too many Sarahs."
So he called her Sassy, which suited her.
Andrew junior and Lincoyen were with their father and played with Al,
while Cap'n Jack yarned with Alfred, and inspected the racecourse that
had been laid out to one side of the drive.
"There is the matter of the Chickasaw land," Andrew said.
James waited, knowing what the outcome of the conversation would be.
But he would make Andrew ask, first.
Andrew had been commissioned by the government, with Isaac Shelby, to
treat for some Chickasaw land, to the north, where Jimmy Doublehead lived.
Andrew estimated that three hundred thousand dollars would be a sufficient
outlay, and the sum was approved in principle. Privately, Andrew met with
a chief, George Colbert, who was known as "the soul of the Chickasaw," and
laid out his policy. Colbert's cooperation could enrich him personally,
but if the land was not sold to the government there would be war, and
many Chickasaw would die.
George Colbert was pragmatic. He agreed to persuade his people in return
for a permanent annuity for himself and his brother, Levi, of the right
to reserve some good land for himself, and the purchase of a piece of
land he owned for twenty thousand dollars. Andrew agreed.
A formal public council of the Chickasaw was called. Andrew made a speech
that was now familiar to him. If the Chickasaw did not agree to his
terms, there would be war, and he would annihilate them as he had the
Creek. If they did agree, the purchase price would be paid over ten
years, after which they would move to new land, given freely by the gov-
emment, in the west, beyond the Mississippi.
He shouted an offer. "One hundred and fifty thousand."
The Chickasaw conferred among themselves, and shouted back their
collective response.
"No! 11
136 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
"Two hundred thousand," Andrew shouted.
" No! "
Andrew offered two hundred and fifty thousand, and the response was still
no.
Andrew appeared to confer with Isaac Shelby, and came back with what he
said was his final offer.
"Three hundred thousand."
Shelby called that they were not authorized to go that high, and Andrew
responded that in order to be fair to the people, he would pay the
difference out of his own pocket.
The Chickasaw were confused and George Colbert saw his moment. He made a
speech in which he accepted Andrew's terms on his own behalf. His brother,
Levi, made a speech in which he agreed to the terms, and one by one the
chiefs accepted.
They demanded the first payment, and the Colberts wanted their bribes
immediately. Andrew, perpetually short of ready money or reluctant to use
his own, doubted that he could persuade the government to part with the
cash quickly enough to satisfy the Chickasaw. He came to James.
"How much?" James wondered, after Andrew had asked him.
"Fifty thousand," Andrew said.
James stared at Andrew junior, A.J.,
and Lincoyen, who were playing
settlers and braves on the land that would be the lawn. He could afford the
money and could not deny Andrew, who had helped to make him rich. But he
was planning on a political career himself, and he was concerned that some
of his money would be used to pay the bribes. Still he agreed. He had never
been able to deny Andrew anything.
Andrew nodded, but did not thank him. They chatted for a while about the
prospect of Alabama being admitted into the Union, and Andrew urged James
to stand for election to the new state's senate. Soon after, he said tender
farewells to James, Sally, and the children, greeted Cap'n Jack affably,
and left with his sons and Alfred.
James watched him go, and pondered what he had done. He remembered a small
group of Indians, Creek probably, who had watched him on this same hill the
day he bought the property, and he shivered a little, as he had shivered
then.
BLOODLINES 137
Sally knew something was wrong, and worried that he might be ailing
again. James shook his head, and walked into the shell of the house with
her. They wandered through the spaces that soon would be rooms, planning
how they would furnish them. Sally did not ask him about Andrew's visit.
She guessed it was to do with money, and Andrew, but James didn't usually
discuss these things with her anymore. To her surprise, this time he did.
Sally listened in silence, and realized something extraordinary. Ever
since she had complained that Andrew never repaid his loans, James had
closed off a part of his life, his business dealings, from her. Now she
thought she understood why. James would worry away at a problem until he
either found a solution or, as in this case, needed her advice. It
pleased her that he asked. It healed the only rift, no matter how tiny,
that had ever existed between them.
"The money is nothing," she said. "There is the matter of your good
name."
James nodded, for she had come straight to the heart.
"But I can't refuse him," he said. "I owe him too much."
Sally didn't entirely agree, but kept her counsel. On the matter of his
friendship with Andrew, James could be extraordinarily touchy.
"The government will not pay?" she asked, looking for a solution.
"Eventually, but not in time," James said. "It has to go through all the
requisite departments."
"So the land will be lost?"
"Not forever, because Andrew will not allow it to be lost," James told
her. "He will make war, and he will win."
"Andrew always wins," Sally said with a smile.
She thought for a moment.
"What if you bought the land'?"
James was astonished.
"Don't you think we have enough?"
That was not Sally's point. If the government were to give, through
Andrew, deeds to some of the land, it would always appear that James's
money had been used for a purchase. Then, at some later date, when the
funds were freed by Washington and his money repaid, James would return
the title deeds.
138 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
James assimilated what she said, and then laughed out loud. It was so
simple, so beautifully simple. He hugged his wife to him.
"Oh, I love you," he said.
Getting Andrew to agree was a protracted business, conducted through
correspondence. James wrote, expressing his concern at the size of the
loan, and requesting some title deeds as collateral. Andrew replied,
rather sharply, that he was surprised that James had reneged on his
original unconditional offer of the money, and assumed that the bribes
were worrying James, that the government would not reimburse them. There
was no need for concern. Andrew had simply told the government that he
had been forced to pay somewhat more for the land than he had expected.
Still James insisted on the collateral, and eventually Andrew gave in.
Title deeds to several lots of the Chickasaw land were made out in
James's name, and he sent Andrew the money in return. Later, when
Washington had completed its paperwork, James got his money back, and
returned the deeds to the government.
James felt good. He had obliged his friend, and covered his own position.
For once in his life he had outsmarted Andrew, who might be a better man
on the battleground or in a duel, but in matters of business, James was
the champion. He was also one of the richest and most influential men in
the state.
Then came the news that his father had died, in Ireland. James was not
sure what he felt, and guilty that he did not feel any special sense of
loss. He thought that he should mourn his father as the man who had given
him life, but that was all his father had done. How could he love a father
who had disinherited him? True to his word, his father had left James
nothing in his will.
Of one thing James was certain. His sons would never feel toward him the
way he felt to his dead father, He called A.J. to him, and sat his son
on his knee. He told him stories of Ireland, of shanachies and
leprechauns and rainbows. He promised the lad that he loved him, and that
he would create the finest estate in the South for A.J. to inherit.
A.J. nodded his head gravely, and thanked his father, but
BLOODLINES 139
then begged for more stories about leprechauns. James laughed, and
remembered some.
But when A.J. had gone to bed, James had several glasses of port, and got
drunk, and tried to remember a father who never told him tales of
leprechauns.
"You will never amount to anything."
"You will see, Father," James said to his empty glass. "You will see."
When Alabama was admitted into the Union, James allowed himself to be
persuaded to stand as a state senator in the next election. He received
petitioners gladly, and dispensed patronage. He was sought out by
politicians from Washington and Montgomery, the new state capital, and his
mansion was admired as one of the finest houses in the South. He bought
racehorses for his stable, and Monkey Simon, from Nashville, as his master
jockey, to train the younger men.
Determined that his staff, his slaves, would be of the first quality, he
traveled with Cap'n Jack through Georgia and South Carolina, attending, for
the first time in his life, slave auctions.
Cap'n Jack could hardly bear to watch as James inspected the slaves as
carefully as he examined his pedigree horses, checking their bones, teeth,
and physiques, and inquiring, as far as was possible, into their
bloodlines. Then Cap'n Jack steeled himself. He had sworn that he would
never give James cause to back out of his promise of freedom, and so,
however unwillingly, he helped his Massa choose the slaves. James purchased
several excellent field hands, and then found a splendid, superbly trained
butler, who came with the highest credentials and who had the odd name of
Parson Dick.
It was Cap'n Jack who found Annie.
When he saw the beautiful woman with skin the color of coffee, who was said
to have expert talent as a weaver, James's vanity was tickled. He would
acquire her and build a weaving house, and all the cloth that was needed at
The Forks of Cypress, for the slaves' clothing and blankets, would be woven
on his estate. Only the very rich could afford to do that.
It thus happened that he bought the woman called Annie,
140 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
whose previous Massa had sold her away because he believed she was
cursed with ill fortune.
Perhaps he was fight, for Annie had bewitched Cap'n Jack already.
17
Annie was a child of rape. Her mammy never told her this, but Annie knew
it was true. Every time she asked about her pappy, Mammy's eyes got angry,
and she would smack her, and tell her never to ask about him again. Then
her mammy would cry, and tell her that her pappy was a white man who
didn't want anything to do with her, but Mammy would look after her
always.
Annie loved her mammy. Mammy had been bom to an African mother and a
Cherokee father, back in the old days when some white Massas had Indians
as slaves, and not just black folk. Mammy's father could not bear his
enslavement, and had simply curled up and died. Mammy's mother, from
Africa, knew all sorts of things about magic, and taught them to her
daughter, so Mammy knew lots of ways to heal people who were sick, to put
a blessing on those who wanted a baby, or put a curse on bad people.
Mammy taught all this to Annie, and some other things as well, learned
from her Cherokee father. Mystical things that were also about the spirit
people, and the power that existed in simple things, the trees and the
animals and the birds, and the sky, and the very land itself.
Their Massa made Mammy work very hard, and she got sick. Annie tried to
cure her with charms and spells and herbs, but she was very young, and
didn't have the proper power yet. Massa came to see Mammy one day, and
threatened to sell her away if she didn't get better. Then he saw Annie,
whom he had never really noticed before; she'd always been just one of
the pickaninnies. Now she was a beautiful young girl in her
BLOODLINES 141
early teens, with a developing figure. The Massa told her to take off her
clothes.
Mammy cried out and tried to stop him, but she was too weak. The Massa
beat Annie when she didn't strip fast enough for him, and when she was
naked he used his whip to prod her small breasts, and pushed it between
her legs.
Annie was crying, but Massa didn't care. He told her to lie down on the
floor, then he unbuckled his belt and pushed down his pants. He got on
top of Annie and pushed himself inside her, suddenly, violently. Annie
screamed in pain, but he wouldn't stop. He kept pumping into her, and the
more she cried, the more he pushed and pumped. When he was finished, he
got up and saw that there was a little blood on his thing. He laughed,
and said now he was sure that Annie had been a virgin. He hit her again,
to remind her that he was the Massa, and told Mammy to fix it so she
didn't have a baby.
Annie lay on the floor after he was gone, until the pain went away, and
then she got up and went to Mammy, who was crying.
"Don't cry, Mammy," she said. "It don't make no never mind. "
But she was lying, and Mammy knew it.
Mammy never got better and seemed to lose the will to live. She died soon
after that, and Annie cried bitterly, because now she was all alone. That
night she lay in her bunk, and tried to remember all the spells that
Mammy had taught her to put a curse on the Massa.
Perhaps they worked, because Massa didn't seem very interested in her
after that. He came to her a few times and did what he wanted, but he
said it wasn't the same because she wasn't a virgin anymore, and he hit
her, because she wasn't a virgin.
A lot of very unlucky things happened to Massa, and Annie believed they