day before, but the week was to be a hectic social calendar of luncheons,
levees, and soirees. The gathering of the clans, James explained to Jass.
268 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
Slaves had been heating water all day, and now the women bathed in the
outhouse, while James and Jass used the creek on the edge of the property.
After a week on the road, they felt filthy, and Sally longed to let down
her hair and have Angel examine it for any lice picked up in the tawdry
travelers' hostels. The visitors from Florence crammed the house. Jass was
sleeping in the attic with his young second cousin, and they had a jolly
time, the boy delighting in taunting Jass's authority by giving voice to
all the new cuss words he had teamed, and juvenile allusions to bodily
functions. James and Sally were in the guest bedroom, Sally was sleeping
with the Kirkman girls, Easter and Angel were sharing a cramped outhouse
with the female slaves, while Cap'n Jack, Samuel, and Ephraim bunked in the
bam.
The next morning, James took Jass to Colonel Elliot's stud farm, although
really it belonged to James, and the colonel was in his employ. Jass was
allowed to trot Leviathan around the ring, and thri ' Iled to the beauty
and power of the animal. He was even more pleased that his father included
him in the business discussions, and he started to feel a sense of the
scope of what would one day be his. Most of the talk was about improving
the bloodlines of the horses, and Jass shared the general excitement when
James agreed that the colonel could begin negotiations to purchase Glencoe,
the most famous stallion in England.
That afternoon, the Donelsons gave a formal reception for those
out-of-towners who had arrived, and Jass was exhilarated, treated for the
first time as his father's heir. He was only slightly disappointed that
Lizzie wasn't there, as the Perkinses were not arriving till Thursday. It
was the first time that Jass understood the size and complexity of the
network of Southern families, either blood- or business-related. His
father's description of the clans being gathered seemed exact, for cousins
who had only heard of each other had the chance to meet, daughters of great
estates had to be introduced to potential suitors, new friendships were
formed and old relationships elaborated on.
Births, marriages, and deaths had to be enumerated, the former
congratulated, and the latter condoled. For the most part, this followed a
rigorous recitation of accepted ritual, but Jass was enchanted by old Mr.
Morissey, a distant friend of his
MERGING 269
mother's and. wealthy associate of his father's. Morissey's brother, an
acknowledged rogue, had disappeared to Texas after a shady financial
scandal. Now news of his death in some settlers' battle with the Mexicans in
Texas had reached the family, which somewhat redeemed his honor. But old Mr.
Morissey, who was ancient of days, acutely deaf, and rode in a Bath chair
pushed by a slave, would have none of it.
"I'm so sorry about Nicholas," Sally yelled into his ear trumpet. "Whatever
for?" Mr. Morissey yelled back, assuming the rest of the world to be as
hard of hearing as he. "The man was a scoundrel. I trust he met an
unpleasant end and is dancing at the sharp end of Satan's pitchfork." Jass
giggled, and turned away.
Easter, watching from the sidelines in the protective shadow of Cap'n Jack
and Angel, was overawed by it all. She had never seen such a parade of
obvious wealth or felt such blatant and innate power accumulated in the
hands of a very small group of people. Receptions at The Forks of Cypress
were grand, but paled to insignificance compared with this. Open landaus
delivered streams of superbly attired men and their richly dressed wives.
Beautiful young women in gorgeous gowns were everywhere, most of them
dancing around Jass, Easter thought, and realized that this was his natural
world. Hope of his being any kind of constant figure in her life was
limited to one certainty: He was her Massa and she his slave.
Even the other slaves present inhibited her, for many of them looked and
behaved as if they were far grander than those who owned them. Many were
almost as well dressed as their Massas, and their manners were flawless.
Parson Dick might have been confident in their company, but Easter felt
like a field hand and saw her father as a country bumpkin. Easter looked at
her simple linen frock and determined that she would wear only her muslin
when she went out again.
Angel hardly left Sally's side, and Cap'n Jack had old friends to talk to,
so Easter was left on her own. Standing under a tree, she was wishing the
ground would open and swallow her up, when she heard a voice.
"Ain't you the prettiest thing?"
An extremely handsome young slave was staring at her. Tall and dignified,
only a few years older than herself, he might
270 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
have been the stuff of Easter's dreams if they had not been running in
another direction.
Easter was mortified, and had no idea what to say.
"Cat got yo' tongue?" the young man asked, still smiling. "I's Reuben, I's
with the Murphys of Virginia."
It was an invitation to introduce herself, she knew, but Easter, after
another glance at the sophisticated company, was petrified. So she ran away
and found a hiding place behind the big house, and didn't come out until
she heard Angel and Cap'n Jack calling for tier because it was time to
leave. She never told them why she had disappeared so abruptly, but she
determined she was not going to spend the rest of the week in such misery,
and wondered if Jessica, the Kirkman inaid, had a dress she could borrow.
Cap'n Jack had not vet seen Alfred, but James gave him permission to do so
that evening, and, if necessary, to spend the night at the Hermitage.
The Kirkman house was only three miles from the Hermitage, but Cap'n Jack
took a long detour through town. He thrilled to see how Nashville had grown.
There were even stone buildings now, and streets he hardly recognized.
Imposing houses with wel I-establ i shed gardens stood on blocks of land
that had been farms not so many years ago. Well dressed, walking alone in
what had become a place he didn't know and scarcely remembered, Cap'n Jack
was able to pretend, for a while, that he was a free man, with his paper of
manumission in his pocket instead of his Massa's travel pass.
Little had changed at the Hermitage, though. The gardens were still
beautifully tended, and the weathering of the years had aged the house and
given it a sense of permanence, as if it had always stood there, and always
would. Still, Cap'n Jack felt a little unsure of himself. It was late,
nearly twilight, and none of the gardeners was working, nor anyone who
might have remembered him. If it were not for the few lamps burning inside
the house, he would have thought it deserted. He wasn't sure where Alfre
d
would be. In the old days, the slave lived in the big house with his Massa,
but now that Washington was his home and he was only a visitor here, Cap'n
Jack wondered if he should go to the slave quarters first.
MERGING 271
A wheezy chuckle solved the problem for him.
"Why, yo' ol'-!" It was Alfred, coming out to greet him from the kitchen.
He hadn't changed much. Although his hair was gray, his face was
unwrinkled, and his eyes sparkled with welcome. Cap'n Jack felt an enormous
sense of relief. Whatever else had changed in his world, Alfred was a
constant.
"Yo' young buzzard!" he called as happily, though Alfred was several years
his senior. The men shook hands warmly, and embraced, and Alfred led him to
the kitchen to eat.
The family, young Massa Andrew and Missy Sarah, were out visiting, and had
taken Gracie with them, so they had the place to themselves. They gossiped
about old times and new, and of the cooling of the friendship between their
two Massas.
"Ain't evuh gwine be like it was," Alfred said. "Massa Andrew old, an' he
think yo' Massa done him wrong."
His mind was full of his Massa, and the gossip from Washington.
"Weren't fight to come," he said. -01' Massa Andrew sick; he need me there.
Ain't nobody else c'n look after him like me."
He turned away, as if worried about Andrew, but then chuckled.
"He tole me I had to git wed here," he said. "It yo' home, Alfred, he said.
It's where yo' gwine die and be buried; it's fittin' yo' be wed there too."
He paused again.
"I don't like leavin' him there on his ownsome," he said. "He old."
The cook had fed them and ignored them, but now she roared that she was
sick of the pair of them cluttering up her kitchen. Alfred roared back at
her, but winked at Cap'n Jack, and they said their good nights to her, and
made their way to the little room in the slave quarters where Alfred was
staying.
"Still got my room in the big house," he said, "but all these folk in town,
weren't nowhere's for Gracie, so she in it. I in here."
He winked. "Got summat else, too." He rummaged in his trunk and found a
bottle of moonshine.
"Speshul occashun," he chuckled wheezily.
272 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
Cap'n Jack laughed in anticipation. Usually they were forbidden to drink
liquor, but Alfred's special status made it unlikely they would be
reprimanded if caught. They could get drunk, just the two of them, and for
this night at least, it would be like the old days.
And it was, it was, for a while. Warmed by the liquor, they talked of times
past, and of Gracie, Alfred's bride-to-be, who had astonished everyone when
she accepted his offer of marriage, for she was twenty years younger than
he.
"Glad I waited all these years," Alfred sighed happily.
They were drunk now. Alfred's smile faded, and he looked at Cap'n Jack.
"Time you got hitched agin," he said, "afore you're too ol'."
"Never found the right woman." Cap'n Jack didn't want to think about Annie,
and had another swig of moonshine.
Alfred wasn't easily distracted. "Only time Massa James evuh did you
wrong," he said, "sellin' Annie away."
... T weren't the Massa, 't were the overseer," Cap'n Jack insisted. "An'
I got Easter to remember her by."
Alfred shook his head and laughed at the lie.
"Massa's in charge," he said. "Give overseer the aut'ority. All white
Massas the same, don't give a hoot 'bout niggers, cept to work theirselves
to the grave for 'em. An' beyond."
Cap'n Jack was puzzled, but thought it was the liquor. Death was the end of
their bondage. Not even white Massas had authority over death.
Alfred had another swig of moonshine. He struggled to his feet.
"Oops," he said. "I ain't 'zackly my nat'chrel self."
He giggled, but there was no humor in it. "C'm here." He beckoned Cap'n
Jack outside.
They wended through the gardens, supporting each other, and giggling in
whispers. Alfred stopped to relieve himself, and looked at the stars.
... Tain't fair," he said, and although Cap'n Jack was not sure what he
meant, he agreed with his friend.
Alfred led the way to the little cemetery. A pillared monument had been
built in the center of it, and they stood near it.
MERGING 273
1401, Missus," said Alfred, unnecessarily, for Cap'n Jack could read the
inscription.
Alfred pointed to the ground beside it. "Ready fo' ol' Massa," he said.
"ne ol' devil gwine be buried here, next to her. "
"But he won't go to heaven," Cap'n Jack chuckled.
Alfred was not in a laughing mood. "If'n he wants to he will, and he
wants to, coz that where she is."
He pointed to a plot of ground only a few yards away.
"An I gwine be buried there!" he said in sudden fury. "Massa says! You
ain't evuh gwine get away from me, Alfred, he says. You gwine be buried
right near me, so's I can yell fo' yo' when I needs yo'."
He turned on his friend.
... Tain't fair! I cain't get way from him in life and I cain't get away
from him when I's dead."
His mood changed abruptly, and tears came to his eyes.
... Tain't fair," he said again. "Massas say they own us niggers body and
soul."
He looked at his future grave site, and shook his head.
"An' they do," he said. "They own us livin' an' they own us dead."
33
On Saturday evening, the great Southern families assembled in Nashville
descended like royalty on the Hermitage.
Easter was astonished. She had thought the parties during the week were
wonderful, but they were only rehearsals compared with this. Coachmen and
footmen were wigged and liveried. The women had saved their finest
evening gowns for this occasion, and were aglitter with jewels, the men
all in formal evening wear. Slaves had been borrowed from surrounding
plantations to line the driveway with flambeaux, although there was still
light in the sky. A slave choir, assembled
274 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
on the lawn outside the house, serenaded the guests as they arrived.
Despite many reservations as to the reason for Sarah Jackson's
invitation, the tacit consensus was that this should be a glittering
social occasion. The widowed President Jackson did much entertaining in
Washington, but he was old, and even though Emily Donelson did her best
as hostess, the affairs were boorish, redolent of the smoking room and
the stag party. There was a social vacuum in the land, and who better
than the glorious Sarah to fill it, and transfer it here? She wasn't a
Yankee, and she lived in Nashville, and visions of that city becoming the
cultural capital of the nation filled many. matrons' hearts. Nashville
was close to Memphis, Louisville and Lexington, and even New Orleans,
close enough to all the new cities on the wes
tern side of the
Appalachians, and Atlanta was not too far away. It was some distance to
the coastal cities of Charleston and Savannah, of course, but it served
them right, as many of the newly rich of Alabama and Mississippi found
those cities to be insufferably elitist about position and money.
That it was even farther from the large Northern cities, and half a
continent frotn Boston, delighted them. Too often, they'd had to make the
arduous journey to Washington or New York or Philadelphia for politically
important social occasions, and now the supper would be on another table.
Sarah's wedding, for no white thought of it as Alfred and Gracie's, was
a chance to show the world the triumph of elegant Southern
sophistication, and how well the niggers were treated, and if any of
those niggers got uppity and forgot their place they'd get a good
thrashing.
There were two reception lines in the garden, one for the whites and one
for the blacks. There were two of everything, one for the whites and one
for the blacks, and woe betide any nigger who crossed the line, although
any white could do so with impunity.
Sally laughed as the Alabama Jacksons descended from their carriage and
went to the receiving line.
"I feel positively dowdy," she said, although she looked wonderful in the
dark-blue taffeta gown, and probably knew it.
MERGING 275
There was surprisingly little confusion, for all knew their places. The
white's were greeted by Sarah and Andrew junior. The slaves who had been
invited were greeted by Alfred and Gracie, and the slaves who had not been
invited but were attending their Massas and Missys were directed to the
kitchen, where they would be fed. Easter was attending, not invited, but
Alfred had specifically asked to meet her, so now she stood in the black
receiving line with her father and gawked at all about her.
Jass could see Lizzie already in the garden, for the Perkinses had been
among the first to arrive, and she looked beautiful. He knew she'd seen him
too, because she tossed her head and pretended she hadn't.
"James-Sally-oh, thank God you came." He heard Sarah's laughing, lilting
voice, was surprised to find they were at the head of the line. He'd been
wondering if he should give Lizzie the freshwater pearls or save them for
someone else.
Sally was laughing too. "This is quite a hornet's nest you've stirred up,"
she said to Andrew junior, and Sarah giggled again.
"Don't blame me; this was all her idea," he said, and shook hands warmly
with James.
"Well, Alfred's been with your father for longer than anyone can remember,
we had to make a fuss," Sarah said to her husband, and turned to Sally
again. "Isn't it fun?"
They knew Sassy, but not Jass. He was presented, and was fascinated by
Sarah's bubbling personality and sense of humor, and suddenly Jass knew why
she'd decided on such a celebration. She wanted fun; she wanted to make a
little dent in a society that Jass already suspected could be smotheringly
smug. For no reason, Jass laughed, and without knowing what he was laughing
at, Sarah laughed with him. She is the most beautiful woman I've ever seen,
Jass thought, and cursed his fortune. If she were not older and married, he
would have immediately given her his pearls. Moving away with his family,
Jass caught sight of Easter cowering in the black receiving line, and
laughed again, and told himself he was going to have a good time.
Easter couldn't bear the idea that she was about to meet the famous Alfred,
her father's dearest, perhaps his only, friend,
276 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
and right-hand man to the president. She tried to hide behind Cap'n Jack,
but to no avail.
"This be Easter, Annie's girl," she heard her father say, pulling her
forward. Easter caught a glimpse of a stem face appraising her, and sank
into a deep curtsy.
"Chile's pretty," she heard him say.
"Chile's scared!" Now it was a woman who spoke, a warm, welcoming voice.