then said to Jass: "You should have a wife. You need a son."
She had never harbored foolish dreams of any elevation of her status. She
knew that she would never be more to Jass than what she was, his slave
mistress, while another, white woman ruled in the big house, and she had
been slightly surprised at Jass's constancy to her. Still, she loved him,
and wanted as much of him as she could have, and tonight had been special
to her. She had not wanted to hear of his proposal to Lizzie tonight, and
now she wanted to hurt him in some way. Or if not him, then Lizzie, by
default. An extraordinary burst of anger and pride and possession swelled
through her. She had something that Lizzie could never have. She glared at
Jass.
"But I have the best of you," she said, fiercely.
48
She was three years old, and small for her age, a tiny sparrow of a girl,
prettily dressed in white muslin, scattering rose petals before her Massa
and his bride, Miss Lizzie, as they walked away from the altar. She looked
enchanting, and many of the female guests gathered on the lawn at The Forks
of Cypress to watch the ceremony wished for a child as demure.
She was shy, and she seldom smiled, but when she did her
394 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
dark-brown eyes danced with happiness. She didn't smile very often because
she didn't have a great deal to smile about. Other slave children teased her
about her snow-white skin, and she never saw her pappy, who was away
somewhere, miles away, and she was told that he would never come back to
her. She loved her mammy very much, and her gran'pappy, who was called Cap'n
Jack by everyone else. She loved the house in which she lived, a little
shack tucked under some trees, away from the quarters where the other slaves
lived. Her mammy worked very hard, weaving cloth for all the slaves on the
plantation. Her gran'pappy didn't seem to work very much at all, but spent
a lot of time with her, teaching her things about the world, and some funny
lines on paper that he called the A B C. She liked it when her Massa came
to
visit Mammy, because he'd sit her on his knee and tell her funny stories,
and a few times he'd given her little presents, and she hugged him and told
him she loved him, and would have liked him to visit more often. She wished
she could lie in the bed with him, like Mammy did sometimes, and go to sleep
in his arms, because she always felt safe and happy when he cuddled her.
She didn't speak to him when she saw him outside the weaving house because
he was the Massa and didn't want to be bothered with a little slave girt
like her, Mammy said, and told her he would have her whipped if she was a
naughty girl, so she kept her distance from him because she didn't want to
be beaten.
She would have liked to live in the big house. Her mammy took her to the
kitchen of it sometimes, and that one room was bigger than the entire shack
she called home. She liked it best there when she saw Miss Sally, who was
quite old, and who always gave her candies or little presents, and told her
stories. She didn't like it when there were other white people staying
there-visitors, Mammy called them-because then she wasn't allowed to go
near the big house, not even if there were little boy and girl visitors.
She wasn't allowed to play with them because they were white and she was
a
nigra, but she thought she didn't looked like a nigra, she looked just like
the white children.
Her name was Queen, and she was very proud of it-she thought it made her
special-but her gran'pappy always called
MERGING 395
her Princess, which puzzled her. She'd never been to a party before, and
this one was very special, her mammy had told her, and she had a very
important job to do. She was scared when she saw how many people were
there, and they were all very grandly dressed, but her gran'pappy said her
dress was the prettiest. She'd rather have worn a dress like Miss
Lizzie's, which was all frills and flounces in purest white, and she had
a little crown on her head, and a long white train, made of the same
material, or nearly, as Queen's dress. She'd seen some of the slaves
sewing little glittery things on the train, and out here in the garden
those glittery things caught the sun and sparkled, and made Miss Lizzie
look just like a princess. She didn't like Miss Lizzie very much-she'd
only seen her a few times, and she always looked very stem-but today she
was smiling a lot, and Queen thought she must be happy.
Queen was happy that day. As she walked along the red carpet, throwing
out her rose petals, she heard lots of fine ladies say oooh and aaah, and
laugh, and say how lovely she looked, and some of the men even clapped
their hands, and no one had ever done that to her before.
She got to the end of the carpet, and didn't know what to do. She saw
Miss Sally standing there, dressed in black, looking very frightening;
only she wasn't frightening at all, Queen knew that, and she ran to Miss
Sally, and threw her arms about her, and asked her if she'd been a good
girl.
"You were a very good girl," Sally told her. "Everyone loved you."
Queen laughed. It had been easy really. She waved to her mammy, who was
standing with Gran'pappy and some of the other slaves a long way away,
watching. She wished her mammy had a nice dress, but she always wore that
simple gray linen, and a shawl, and a scarf around her head. She was very
beautiful, but you couldn't always tell, because of that ugly dress.
Queen had to wear ugly clothes most of the time, but she loved pretty
dresses, like the one she was wearing now.
Miss Sally took her hand and asked her if she was hungry, because it was
time to eat. Queen nodded, because she was very hungry. She'd been really
excited that morning, and had been sick and cried a lot, until her mammy
told her she wouldn't be able to go to the wedding if she didn't stop.
So
396 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
she stopped. and went to the wedding, and now she was hungry.
Miss Sally took her to the long tables set out in the garden, where all the
food was. There was another woman with them, Miss Lizzie's mammy, who wore
a lot of fussy clothes and jewels, and always had a couple of young men
slaves near her. Her mammy told her this was Miss Becky, and although Queen
had seen her lots of times-she came here often with her daughter-she'd
never spoken to her. She was a little bit scared of her. Not really truly
scared, just a little bit, and sometimes she thought Miss Becky was funny.
When she saw the long tables covered with food she nearly cried again
because she'd never seen so much food in all her life, and it all looked
wonderful, and she couldn't decide what she wanted. But Miss Sally fixed
a
special plate, just for her, and they all went to sit on garden chairs
under the shade trees. Parties, Queen decided, were
things she wanted a
whole lot more of.
Mrs. Perkins thought it was a wonderful party too. More than anything, she
was relieved that it had finally happened. Lizzie had held her to her
promise, and it had been a long engagement. The trips to London and Paris
had been fun, although Becky hadn't enjoyed Charleston very much, a
hoity-toity place, she thought, and no one was very impressed with her
fabulous new gowns and her entourage of slaves. "The greeneyed god," she
said to Lizzie, but Lizzie had only smiled, and sometimes Becky couldn't
resist the feeling that her daughter was laughing at her.
She hadn't enjoyed their visits to their relations in Virginia and North
Carolina at all. They'd made such a lot of fuss and bother about her
retinue, which was so pretty-how did they expect two traveling women to
manage without six nigras? Obviously none of them understood the importance
of Lizzie's impending union, though she had told them about it incessantly,
and she decided that most of her relatives were hicks at heart. Their
touring had taken two years, and Becky was glad to come home to Alabama and
plan the wedding in earnest. It took them a year to work out all the
details, partly because Lizzie was still a little funny about that weaving
gel
MERGING 397
Jass was so fond of, but that seemed to be calming down.
She'd taken charge of every detail of the wedding ceremony and subsequent
breakfast herself, and had a devil of a job persuading Mr. Perkins to
open up the moneybags to pay for everything she'd ordered. Really, he
could be such a tightwad at times, and she never understood why, because
they were loaded. She'd expected at least a little moral support from
him, but no one, not even William, seemed to appreciate how hard she'd
worked to bring this whole thing together. She'd been physically ill the
whole of last week and had to drag herself from her sickbed for fittings
for the green grosgrain frock she was having made, and even the wretched
dressmaker had argued with her, and told her off for putting on weight,
and it all got so much she burst into tears, standing there in her bodice
and camiknickers, which was very embarrassing.
At last, it was all over. Her work, her life's work perhaps, was done.
Lizzie was formally, officially wed, and was mistress of one of the
richer estates in the South. Not quite as rich as it once was, Becky
surmised, when old James was alive, but still rich enough. Jass seemed
to have very little head for business matters, and left most things to
Tom Kirkman, who was dear and hardworking but rather dull, with no great
flair about him. And William had been a pig about Lizzie's dowry.
Finally, it had all come together with scarcely a hitch, and when she saw
Lizzie walking down the aisle toward Jass, and the minister joined them
in indissoluble union, she felt as if a ton weight had been taken from
her shoulders, and wept copiously. From sheer relief.
She sat on a chair near Sally and that dear little girl, and tucked into
a plate of fried chicken. She was very tired. Her shoulders sagged, she
had a splitting headache, and she promised herself a week in bed to
recuperate. Sally had been a dear friend throughout it all. and Becky
felt she could be herself in her company. Not too much of herself, of
course, because so many people were there, and obviously watching them,
and envying her. She pulled herself together, and looked about for
something to say.
The little girl was eating her food quite daintily. Surprising, for a
nigra child; obviously she'd been brought up well. Not surprising, when
you considered who her father was.
398 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
.11 must say, the child has lovely manners," she said to Sally.
Sally was intrigued. Becky seemed to be going flump. She looked old and
tired, and some steel seemed to be missing from her spine. Even her
vowels were less extended than usual. And it was the first time she had
ever mentioned Queen.
"She's a darling," she said, hugging Queen to her. Often, Sally had to
stop herself from becoming too fond of Queen. It would be different, she
was sure, when Jass and Lizzie had children.
"She'll make a splendid companion for any daughters Lizzie might have,"
Mrs. Perkins continued, speaking behind her fan. "It's such a sensible
arrangement, tho' it's taken Lizzie awhile to get used to the idea."
She looked at Lizzie and Jass, who were surrounded by well-wishers. She's
almost human today, Sally thought, as if she were falling apart now that
it's all over, coming back down to earth.
Mrs. Perkins sighed. "I don't know what I'd do without our nigra girls.
Mr. Perkins--
She snapped her fan shut, pointed it at her meek, tubby husband, who was
worrying about business matters with some associates, then opened the fan
and spoke behind it again.
--can be a regular demon, you know." She rolled her eyes a very great
deal, to indicate that her husband was a positive Casanova. Sally tried
to hide her smile.
The enormous, three-tiered cake was cut, and everyone cheered, and Queen
ate three pieces; then she walked hand in hand with Sally as they
wandered through the crowd talking to people.
Lizzie had gone to the house to dress for going away, and Mr. Perkins
collared Jass for a few words of advice, as was befitting.
"I must say the place is looking splendid, Jass," he said, a little
pompously, Jass thought. "Your father would be proud."
Jass was in a good humor, and indulged his new father-inlaw.
"We're doing well, I think," said Jass politely. "Not as well as we were,
but the price of cotton will pick up."
MERGING 399
Mr. Perkins shook his head doubtfully. He didn't trust anything to do with
money.
"Putting something away for a rainy day, I hope?" He mopped his brow with
his handkerchief. It was a sultry day. There was a storm coming. "There are
a few storm clouds out there. "
Jass knew he didn't mean the weather. He tried to be casual.
"Nothing serious, surely?"
Everything was serious to Mr. Perkins. He'd lost quite a lot of money on
a
foolish transaction a few weeks ago, and with the cost of the wedding and
Lizzie's dowry, he thought his world was collapsing. Although he was still
rich, he was not as rich as he had been.
"The abolitionists are getting quite strident," he fretted. "And this new
Republican party may take up their cause."
"Well, that's the North." Jass shrugged it aside. "And in any case, the end
of slavery wouldn't be the end of the world. "
"It would be the end of the South." Mr. Perkins was shocked by the heresy.
"Not if we diversify," Jass said blithely.
Mr. Perkins smiled. He loved winning arguments, and he remembered that Jass
used to make a lot of speeches about diversification
when he was a young
man. Hadn't put one of those ideas into effect, of course.
"I don't see you doing that," he said slyly.
In that instant, Jass could have killed him, because he too remembered his
own ideas. And he had tried, but perhaps not hard enough. He often talked
to Tom about planting something other than cotton, but neither of them
could think what. Cotton was not as profitable as it had once been, but
nothing was more profitable than cotton. And the price would surely rise.
Luckily, Tom and Elizabeth joined them at that moment, with Hugh and Sam,
who was an owlish and serious young man. Sam was going to Harvard next
week, to study medicine, and had come to congratulate Jass ' and say
good-bye. Jass knew Sam was going to college, but was surprised. Was he
really old enough? Had so many years gone by?
When the time came for Jass and Lizzie to leave, they climbed into the
carriage, and all the guests gathered round to
400 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
say good-bye. They cheered and waved and threw confetti and sang songs as
the happy couple rode down the drive.
Then a man Queen didn't know grabbed her and lifted her high in the air.
"My," he said. "Aren't you the prettiest little thing."
He looked at some people he seemed to know, and called out to them, very
loudly.
"Whose little girl are you?"
Everyone around Queen suddenly seemed to be very angry, but Queen didn't
think she'd done anything wrong. Miss Sally moved quickly to her and
sounded cross.
"You must be very tired, Queen; you need a nap," she said sharply. Her
mammy came rushing up and grabbed her, and her gran'pappy.
"I'll see to her, Miss Sally," she said, and carried Queen away. Queen
could see that the man who had picked her up was talking to someone else,
and then he shouted something out, and he sounded cross too.
"How could I tell?" she heard him say. "She looks white as cotton. How was
I supposed to know she's a nigra?"
Her mammy started walking faster when she heard that, pushing her way
through the crowd, and there was a crack of thunder. It frightened Queen,
and she began to cry.
It rained for days. The river flooded, and the roads were impassable. Lizzie
and Jass had to spend the first few nights of their honeymoon at the hotel
in Florence rather than traveling to Charleston to get the ship to Europe.
Usually, the slaves didn't mind heavy rain. It meant that no work could be
done in the fields, and the lenient overseer, Mitchell, gave them the days
off. This time it was different.
Mitchell gathered them together inside the barn on the second day of the
rain. A young white man was standing beside him.
"You can't go into the fields today," Mitchell told them. "So we'll use the
time to fix things up around here."
He turned to the young man standing beside him.
"An' this here's Mr. Henderson," he told the slaves. "He's gonna be helpin'
me from now on. You mind him, y'hear? Same as you mind me."
MERGING 401
The slaves eyed Henderson warily. They were all used to Mitchell, had the
measure of him, but they knew he was getting old, and they weren't sure
about this new assistant overseer. They didn't like change because usually
it wasn't for the better. They stood in the leaky barn until someone told
them what to do.
Henderson was anxious to please.
"The barns need work," he said to Mitchell, who looked at the leaking roof
and nodded. His arthritis was bothering him badly, and he was content to
leave the day to Henderson, who wouldn't be able to do too much damage.
"If'n you like," he said. "Hit ain't the weather for it."
He limped away. "Damn rain," he said, to no one in particular. "Plays merry
hell with the harvest."
Henderson waited till Mitchell was out of the bam; then he turned to the
slaves.
"I want a work gang up on the roof to fix the leaks, a dozen men," he
ordered sharply.
The slaves waited. No one wanted to be up on the roof in this weather.