Page 33 of Queen

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.