Perhaps they had all been expecting it to happen, the whites anyway, and
some of the blacks, or even wanting it. They had all been flirting on the
very edge of the line, taunting it, daring it; it had added spice to the
day, and it was as if they needed a sharp reminder, before going home,
of the natural order of their lives.
Easter sank to the floor, still held in Morissey's grasp. The dancers
stopped dancing. The band stopped playing. The room fell silent. A white
man was asserting his dominance over a black, and there was nothing
anyone in the bam could do. The only man who could help Easter was not
there.
Cap'n Jack was in despair. His daughter was being humiliated there, and
visions of Annie being torn away from the girl, screaming, to some
unknown fate, flooded his mind. Shaking with shame and fury, he looked
desperately for James
MERGING 285
and tried not to believe that he wasn't there to save Easter, just as he
had not been there to save Annie.
"I say, who owns this nigra?" Ralph Morissey called again.
It took Jass a moment to realize what was happening, and when he did, he
looked around for his father. He could not see James, and then remembered
him leaving some time before with Henry Clay, who had arrived in
Nashville unexpectedly that morning.
He looked at his mother, and she was looking at him. She nodded her head
very slightly, and Jass understood that it was all up to him. His stomach
lurched, but he could not shirk his duty-to himself, his family, his
tribe, or to Easter. He was, at this moment, her Massa.
He started walking toward Morissey. People moved aside to let him pass.
The silence was deafening. His own footsteps thundered in Jass's ears,
and Easter's gentle weeping. He heard a voice mutter behind him, "Flog
the bitch."
The walk lasted forever, but eventually he was there. He looked Morissey
in the eye, and held out his hand to Easter.
"Come along, Easter," he said. "I'm sure you have work to do. "
She took his hand, and Morissey, honor satisfied, let go his grasp. The
niggers knew who was in charge again.
The silence continued as Jass led Easter away, he didn't know where,
anywhere, just to get her out of there. Now they walked through the black
section of the room, and the slaves, eyes downcast, parted for them in
embarrassed silence as surely as the triumphant whites had done. Easter
kept her eyes to the floor, to hide her tears and her shame, and Jass
stared straight ahead.
Cap'n Jack moved now. There was a small room attached to the barn, a shed
or workplace, and he went to it and opened the door. Jass nodded to him
gratefully, and took Easter inside.
Even after they had left the room, the silence continued, until Andrew
junior broke it.
"What am I paying you for?" he called to the orchestra. "Play!" They
began to play, sensibly, a slow waltz.
A few couples started to dance again, and gradually something of the old
mood returned-to half of those present. The blacks had been put back in
their place and did not immedi-
286 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
ately see the sense in provoking more of the white man's wrath. For the
next three or four dances, it was a white man's party.
James was not in the bam because Henry Clay had come to talk to him. He
had arrived at the Hermitage that morning from Ashland, his home in
Kentucky, where he had been spending the summer. He had made his respects
to Andrew junior, who was not thrilled to see him, and Sarah, who was
enchanted by his easy elegance, and he had watched the wedding from the
house. When the rain started, he sought out James, who was the reason for
his visit. They had been given the use of Andrew's study, which amused
them, for both knew it was Andrew they were going to discuss.
They circled the issue warily for a while, until James could not contain
his curiosity.
"How are things in Washington?" be began.
"I've no idea," Henry laughed. "It's been a pleasant summer in Kentucky,
away from it all. I do not relish going back."
He was lying, and they both knew it. The cut and thrust of politics was
life and blood to Henry.
"And Andrew?" James asked, smiling in gentle provocation.,
"Military men should be employed by governments, not in charge of them,"
Henry laughed in response. "This second term is Andrew's last campaign,
and he is determined to win the war. "
He took a pinch of snuff. His levity did not fool James. He knew Henry
was vitally concerned about the welfare of the country.
"He rides roughshod over Congress, and has tom the Constitution to
tatters. He claims a mandate from the people, but all they did was elect
him to an office, not crown him king. He claims to be the champion of the
states, but he gathers ever more power into his own office. John--he was
referring to John Quincy Adams, Andrew's predecessor- "never used the
veto once. Andrew threatens it every day."
They were old enemies. Henry was particularly bitter about Andrew's veto
of his bill to recharter the United States Bank. Andrew's bitter
opposition to the central bank had led to its
MERGING 287
effective demise and to a rash of new state banks, operating under a
patchwork quilt of legislation by the individual states.
"He won't be there much longer. Another eighteen months-" James said.
Henry laughed again. "Nothing will change. Van Buren will ride to the
presidency on Andrew's coattails, and continue all his policies because he
has none of his own."
"You could run against him," James suggested, but although Henry shook his
head, his reply was enigmatic. "Perhaps," he said.
He took another pinch of snuff. "But Martin would be a formidable opponent,
if only because he bathes in Andrew's aura," Henry continued. "We'll see."
There was a small silence. James waited and wondered and guessed. Henry
came to the point.
"If you had information, written documents, that would help discredit
Andrew, would you release them?"
James felt a deep and churning anger rise. How did everybody know?
"What documents?" he asked, evenly.
"Bribes paid to certain compliant Chickasaws in return for a treaty." Henry
did not mince matters.
James shook his head. "I have no such evidence," he said. "No such proof."
"A very large amount of Chickasaw land was deeded to you by the federal
government immediately after that treaty was signed," Henry said. "Long
before the land was generally made available."
He stared at James, as if willing him to renounce the lie. But Henry was
not Andrew, and his steady gaze only caused James's anger to erupt.
"It was collateral for a loan," he exploded. "I've lent him fortunes over
the years, going all the way back to New Orleans, and never seen a penny in
return. This
time I wanted insurance."
Henry sighed, knowing he was wasting his time. He had not expected to
succeed, but he would not have forgiven himself if he had not tried.
"Did you get your money back?" He smiled. There was no point in
antagonizing James any further.
288 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
"Yes," James said. -I got my money back."
Henry kept trying, but gently now, for he understood the truth. James did
have proof of Andrew's culpability, but in releasing it he might destroy
himself, and few men are willing to be their own executioners. Eventually
they said their goodbyes, and Henry made to leave.
"All I did was lend him money," James said again, as Henry left the room.
In a small side room of the bam, Cap'n Jack and Angel were trying to
comfort the wretched Easter.
"Hush, chile," Cap'n Jack said. "'Twere an accident. No one gwine blame
you."
"They all did," Easter cried. "'Tweren't my fault!"
Angel nodded because she saw the injustice of it. "I said no good would
come of it, black folk mixin' with white," she said. "'Tain't fittin'."
Easter stared at the party through the open door. What hurt her most was
that Jass had not stayed with her. He had brought her here, said a few
sensible things while she cried, and then left her. She could see him
dancing with Lizzie, as if nothing much had happened.
Reuben came to the door. "Feelin' better?" he asked, with genuine
concern. Easter stared at him, and then at Jass dancing with Lizzie, and
could not cope with any of it. She slammed the door in Reuben's face, and
fell into Cap'n Jack's anns, weeping again.
If there had ever been a chance that Cap'n Jack would forget or abandon
his vows of vengeance against James, it was gone now. Easter had been
silly and forgetful, but no more than that, and surely did not deserve
such a public humiliation. James was not directly responsible for what
had happened, but he was a Massa of slaves, and that in itself was
causing a blind fury in Cap'n Jack. Not even Jass's triumphant behavior
was of any solace to him.
But Jass had impressed many of the white women present, and especially
Lizzie. The boy had looked like a man, had behaved like a man, striding
across the silent dance floor to protect his property. Several female
hearts had fluttered, and Jass was not
MERGING 289
short of dancing partners, but Lizzie deflected any rivals by refusing to
let him out of her sight or her arms. At the same time, being sensible, she
did not attempt to silence any of the flattering attention that was
surrounding Jass.
Jass loved it. He had met his first challenge in the adult world, and had
triumphed. Nor did he mind the fact that Lizzie was constantly beside him.
She was pretty, she was his own age, and she was flirting with him
outrageously. Jass knew he would have sweet dreams that night.
He even felt some charity toward Easter. At first, when he realized the
enormity of what she had done, his only thought was to thrash her hide, but
now, hero of the moment, he decided that she'd been silly, she was only
young, and he looked forward to smacking her cute little tail.
He wondered how much more he could achieve. The barn was hot, the evening
cool. He suggested to Lizzie that they take a turn outside, and she had
flutteringly agreed.
The rain had stopped, leaving behind the pretty smell of a damp garden.
They strolled together arm in arm for a while, and then Jass summoned up
his courage.
"I wonder if-- he began, "-when we get back to Alabama-I might call on
you."
Lizzie, knowing the future that her parents at least were mapping out for
them, feigned surprise.
"Whatever for?" she asked innocently.
The question confused Jass; the answer was obvious to him. "Well, you know,
so we can-get to know each other better."
Lizzie waved her fan rapidly, as if she were having hot flushes.
"Why, Mr. Jackson," she drawled. "I do believe you're courting me."
Jass, to his surprise, didn't blush. "I guess I am," he laughed.
"My," Lizzie said. "I don't believe I'm quite ready for that." She saw the
disappointment on his face, and added her intended rider. "But I don't
suppose there'd be any harm if you came to see me once in a while-"
Jass laughed again, feeling wonderful. Having got this far, he decided to
push his luck.
"Oh, Lizzie," he said and hoped it conveyed some passion.
290 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
He leaned close to her and kissed her on the lips, his as firmly closed
as hers.
Lizzie allowed it to happen, and then broke away in apparent outrage.
"Sir!" she cried. "Just because I squeezed you into my dance card does
not give you the right to violate my person! Don't you ever kiss me
again!"
For a moment, Jass was confused, and believed that she meant it.
"Not until you have learned to do it properiy," Lizzie laughed, and ran
back to the barn.
Jass laughed too, but didn't follow her. He had accomplished enough for
one night, and knew there was no more to be had. He had stared at the
stars, and found it hard to believe that life, with its many daunting
confusions, could offer such enom-tous rewards.
Only one tiny problem clouded his flawless horizon. He had kissed Lizzie
chastely, lips closed, as he kissed all womenhis mother, his aunts, his
sisters and his cousins-but she had suggested it was not enough.
Obviously, there, was more to kissing than Jass had understood.
He wondered whom he could ask about it, and dismissed any of the older
men he knew, because perhaps it was something he should already know.
Wesley, he decided. On his return to Florence, he would seek the advice
of his old nemesis, Wesley, because now they had something in common.
He didn't want to go back to the party, which was in its closing stages
anyway. He wanted this night to last forever.
Jass sat on a log and savored the night and took joy in the company of
his newfound friend, Jass.
35
lass kept his promise to himself, but James broke his word to Sally. He
wrote to Andrew soon after their return to Florence, but it was because
they heard of a chimney fire that had destroyed the Hermitage. There had
been no loss of life, but the letter was full of sympathy, for James knew
how much the mansion he had so lovingly built meant to his old friend. He
did not mention the removal, or the contentious letters, telling himself
that this was not the time, that he wanted to restore a working
relationship with Andrew again before raising such difficult matters.
Andrew replied a few weeks later, and was courteous and wrote of his
determination to rebuild the Hermitage exactly as it had been. It pleased
James to have such a warm response and he was becoming less concerned
about the removal. The Chickasaw were going west, and while
he heard many
stories about their privations along the way, James decided that Sara was
right. It wasn't the same as the British in Ireland: The Indians were
being given good land, to live in peace and prosperity in their tribal
manner. It was young Doublehead who helped bring James to this conclusion,
although he was hardly young anymore.
It was a cold November afternoon. James was alone in the house, but for
several slaves. Sally and Sassy were staying with Mary, who was in
confinement again, and Jass was spending the weekend with his new friend
Wesley. The Trio were with Sally and Sassy.
The winter sun was low and without warmth. The dogs had been uneasy since
midday, restless and whining. Several times, James had looked out the
window and thought he saw people moving among the distant trees, but
assumed it to be the normal business of the plantation. Toward sundown,
the dogs started barking in eamest, incessantly, excitedly, as at
prowl-
291
292 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
ers, and James went outside to investigate, hoping a slave had not been
foolish enough to run away.
Mitchell and Noah, a slave guard, were on the front lawn, both with dogs
straining at their leashes, desperate to get to some quarry. Other slaves
had gathered near the house, silently, curiously, looking to the horizon.
Standing among the distant trees, in small groups of two and three,
family groups, were some Indians, Cherokee or Chickasaw, James guessed,
tribally dressed for winter. They had luggage with them, bundles and
packs, as if they were going on a journey.
They did nothing but stare at the mansion, or the hill on which it stood.
They seemed to have no purpose or intention, and their stillness maddened
the dogs more than any movement.
James became aware of Cap'n Jack standing beside him.
"It's Doublehead," Cap'n Jack said.
Young Chief Jimmy Doublehead, now a man of forty, was standing at the
gate, a woman beside him carrying a child, and a couple of elders. Like
the others, they did nothing but stare at the house.
"Kennel the dogs," James said.
Mitchell was reluctant. You never knew, with Indians.
:'Sir, them's Injuns-" he began, but James cut him short.
'Kennel the dogs!" he commanded.
Mitchell glanced at Noah, and at the Chickasaw, and having no choice,
obeyed the order, pulling the dogs away, behind the house.
Once the dogs were gone, Doublehead and the elders began walking to the
house. It was a cold evening. James shivered a little, and went back
inside.
Shortly afterward, there was a tap on the door of his study, and Parson
Dick came in, followed by Doublehead, his squaw, and the elders. James
rose from his desk to greet his old friend.
11 Jimmy, how good to see you," he said warmly, holding out his hand. But
Doublehead did not accept the greeting, and spoke in Cherokee.
"You know I can't speak your language," James said, and laughed. "I know
I should, the years I've lived here, but let's speak in English."
But Doublehead spoke again in his language. There was a
MERGING 293
small silence, and James was embarrassed. The gravity of the Cherokee's
demeanor disturbed him.
"He says he will not speak the white man's tongue," a quiet voice said,
and James realized that it was Parson Dick.
"Since he is forbidden by white man's law to live among you, he sees no
need for your language," Parson Dick continued.
James was astonished that Parson Dick had any knowledge of Cherokee, but
was more concerned at establishing some communication with Jimmy.
"What does he want?" James asked.
Parson Dick spoke in Cherokee, and Doublehead replied.
"You told us we could live amongst you as equals, but that is denied to
us," Parson Dick said. "Now you tell us that we cannot even live amongst
you."
He listened again.
"What will you tell us next? That we cannot live?-
James had no reply. He was excluded from Doublehead's world now, just as
Doublehead was being excluded from his.