Page 55 of Queen

thinking their separate thoughts. Queen seldom voiced hers, because it

  was not her place, but told her feelings to her good friend God.

  "If the war doesn't last very long, I won't be old enough

  454 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

  to fight," William lamented softly. "So where shall I find adventures? I

  suppose I could become a missionary or something-"

  He was lulled to sleep by the balmy breezes of tropical islands, and the

  image of himself saving Harriet from some niggers who were cooking her in

  a big pot.

  Queen could not go to sleep so easily that night. She didn't mind William's

  jibes about her matrimonial prospects, she was used to being called "an

  itty-bitty slave girl" because she was tiny and a slave, but she knew a

  handsome prince was waiting for her somewhere in the world, and not very far

  away. This night, she had other things to think about. Like many of the

  slaves, she knew that events of some importance to her life were in train,

  but she could not fully appreciate what they were, because she heard only

  one side of them.

  The slaves in the kitchen talked about war, and even though they had no

  experience of it-what they knew was learned from other, older, field slaves

  who might have served with their Massas in the Mexican War-the stories

  didn't seem to fit with William's idea of one big battle a long way away.

  Mexico was a long way away-Queen wasn't exactly sure where it was-but she

  knew there'd been more than one big battle. Her gran'pappy had stories of

  war, too, and someone called Massa Andrew fighting the Injuns and the

  British, and those wars seemed to last a long time, and lots of people got

  hurt. She had heard Miss Sally and Julie making all sorts of plans for

  extra provisions to be put in the cellar, "just in case," but if William

  was right, then just in case of what? If the fight happened a long way

  away, why were they stocking up with food here at The Forks? Was the fight

  going to be near here? The idea of war and battles close to the big house

  really scared her, especially if the soldiers were like the boys who had

  accosted her that afternoon.

  God's role in a possible war confused her most of all. She loved God as the

  Massa and Miss Lizzie and her mammy and gran'pappy and Miss Sally and

  everyone told her she should, but if God was on the side of the South, did

  that mean He wanted Queen to be a slave for all her life? Whenever she

  asked anyone questions about God and some of the confusing

  QUEEN 455

  things He did, they all told her He moved in mysterious ways, and

  obviously that was true. She tried to imagine what God looked like, and

  saw an image of a big, cross old man with a long white beard, and

  thunderbolts in his hand, but that wasn't very comforting, and she was

  taught that God was love. The greatest love she could think of was for her

  pappy, and so she drifted to sleep dreaming she was tying in the Massa's

  arms, safe in the love of God.

  Sally could not sleep. The news of Lincoln's election to the presidency

  had come as something of an anticlimax to her. Like a gathering storm, it

  had been on the horizon for months, sweeping toward them with increasing

  and inexorable certainty, but now that it had happened and had not plunged

  them immediately into war, it was something of a relief. Not that the

  danger was past, but Buchanan was still in the White House, it would be

  four months until Lincoln actually took office, and perhaps, in that time,

  sanity could prevail. She guessed that some states, at least, would go

  through the initial processes of secession. South Carolina had called a

  state convention to begin the process even before the election results

  were known, but South Carolina had threatened withdrawal from the Union

  before, and had always backed down. And no one, surely, wanted war, no one

  wanted the dismemberment of the country. Sally knew very few people who

  actually advocated disunion, but all those same people believed that if

  push came to shove, the Southern states could go it alone. The problem was

  that they might not be allowed to, for Lincoln seemed to care less about

  the freeing of slaves than he did for the maintenance of the federation.

  And what was so important about emancipation? Why were the wretched

  abolitionists so strident in their views? Why had the Yankees been

  foolish enough to elect Lincoln? Confusion set in, for she knew in her

  heart that it was not just the Yankees who had voted for Lincoln; many

  Southerners must have done so, if only out of fear of the consequences

  of secession. Briefly she cursed all men, vain creatures who insisted on

  imposing their views on others. Finally, she realized that what she

  wanted was for the South to be left alone, to go about its business, and

  if that meant a confederation of Southern states,

  456 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

  then perhaps it was the best solution. There was no need for war. Please,

  God, don't let there be war. Yet she wept, for she had loved her nation all

  her life; she had been proud to be a citizen of the United States. For

  eighty years that blessed country had thriven and prospered, and that it

  should all end now, over an issue that was irrelevant to the general welfare

  of the majority of the people, was untenable to her. Why should slavery

  bother the North when they did not have it?

  It would be a bleak Christmas, she thought, and practicality salvaged her

  from despair. There was so much to do, so many presents still to buy-they

  hadn't even begun to plan the menus yet-and she took refuge from the

  depressing affairs of the day in lists of provisions and gifts.

  Realistically, she knew that her lists would have to be longer than those

  usual for Christmas, since they had to be prepared for the worst. Already,

  with Parson Dick and Julie, she had made sure the cellar was well stocked,

  but she would have to lay in more blankets and sheets, and check with Jass

  that the bams were full. Like sheep jumping fences, the lists lulled her,

  and she drifted into an uneasy sleep.

  Lizzie had been feeling chills of fear since that afternoon, when the wild

  atmosphere in town had disturbed her, and the chaos that surrounded the

  announcement of the election results had terrified her. Lizzie had never

  seen such violent emotions on display before, and if this was what the

  prospect of war could unleash, she dreaded to imagine the unknown horrors

  that the fact of war must bring.

  Lizzie was essentially secure and happy in her life, and, like Jass, she

  loathed change. Jass had proved to be a good and undemanding husband.

  Lizzie's more dominant personality amused him, perhaps because he had a

  refuge from it, and he indulged most of her foibles. He asserted his

  conjugal rights from time to time, but because he was temperate in his de-

  mands, Lizzie was happy to accommodate him. She hated the pain of

  childbirth and its attendant illnesses, and wondered if the illnesses were

  not brought on by fea
r of the pain, but it was her duty to provide Jass

  with children, and so she bore them with fortitude. She had been desolate

  when tiny Jane died, so soon after childbirth, and she prayed that her new

  QUEEN 457

  baby would be strong and healthy, a boy, she hoped, in case anything awful

  should happen to William. Like war.

  Sally looked after most of the domestic issues, leaving Lizzie free to

  socialize and entertain, and while the two would never be close, they had

  become friends. Lizzie could shop and party, and never have to worry about

  the dinner menus unless she chose to, and then Sally always deferred to

  her. She could fret and fuss over the children, or Becky, and Sally would

  always be there to offer advice and a grandmotherly shoulder for the

  children, or Becky, to cry on. Lizzie could pamper and spoil Jass, when he

  allowed her to, or ride around the estate in the company of the politicians

  and business associates who called with increasing frequency because of the

  political crisis, or because of their genuine fondness for Jass and his

  increasing interest in the affairs of their state, and some of them,

  perhaps, because Lizzie was such good fun.

  She had learned to tolerate Queen, who was meek and demure to her, which

  flattered Lizzie, and she enjoyed the sense of power it gave her over

  Easter's brat. She had even learned to tolerate Jass's continuing

  relationship with Easter, because it was discreetly conducted, and relieved

  Lizzie of at least some of her duties in the bedroom.

  Now she believed this almost flawless life was under threat, and she was

  frightened. It was no use looking to Jass for comfort; he only laughed and

  said they might all be better off if Alabama did secede. He was almost

  enjoying himself, Lizzie thought, and had spent much of dinner gossiping

  about the new overseer's wife, whom Lizzie was sorry she hadn't met,

  because she sounded dreadful. Whenever she or Sally had tried to talk about

  the ramifications of Lincoln's election, Jass had been patronizing, and

  told them not to bother their pretty little heads about it. That had made

  them cross, but he was so dearand jolly, the meal had passed pleasantly

  enough.

  The evening had been different. Sally had retired early as she often did.

  She had a little sitting area in her room, and she liked to go there and be

  alone, and write her diary. Jass and Lizzie had sat together, as they

  always did, but he had his head stuck in a book. Lizzie did some petit

  point, and all her fears for the future had simmered through her again, but

  Jass had been no comfort.

  458 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

  She wanted to be alone with him, not alone as they were here, but upstairs,

  in bed, drifting to sleep in his safe embrace. She put down her needlework.

  "I think I'll go to bed," she said, and kissed him, hoping he'd get the

  hint.

  He looked up from his book. "Sleep well, my love," he said.

  So that was it. He was going to her. She didn't want him to go, not

  tonight. How could he be so thoughtless?

  "Will you be long?" She could hardly express her need more plainly.

  "Oh-a while," he responded. "I have some things to do."

  For an instant, she hated him. She could well imagine what it was he

  planned to do. But she needed him, or his reassurance.

  "Is there going to be a war?" Her voice had a tiny quaver in it, like a

  lost little girl.

  Jass heard the cry for help, and closed his book.

  "I'm sure not, my dear,," he said calmly, kindly. "I'm sure it's just

  talk."

  She almost believed him, and felt foolish for being scared. He was always

  so reasonable, and knew so much more about what was going on than she, who

  wafted on the vagaries of any fashionable wind.

  "It's so scary, war," she said. She looked at him longingly, hoping he

  would change his mind, and left the room.

  Jass put down his book, and sat in silence. Lizzie was right, it was so

  scary, war. Yet exciting, too, for the talk of it, the rumor of it, the

  prospect of it, made Jass feel as if he had just wakened from a deep and

  lengthy sleep.

  For fifteen years, he felt, he had done nothing except live a prosperous,

  pleasant, unambitious life. For fifteen years, he had been Massa of this

  plantation, yet he had allowed others the control of it. Tom Kirkman and

  Sally between them managed most of the business affairs, largely because

  Jass did not really understand the complexities, and had no real urge to

  learn. He knew that his patrimony had decreased in that time, because while

  Tom was a conscientious and able bookkeeper, both of them erred on the side

  of caution, as if neither was

  QUEEN 459

  prepared to put the great inheritance at risk. Yet by not taking risks,

  by swimming with the tide, by having no vision, he had wound up with an

  estate worth today perhaps half what it had been when James died. Jass had

  always believed himself to be a simple caretaker of the family fortune,

  but now he saw that he hadn't taken care of it very well. There had never

  seemed much point. He'd never be able to do what his father had done,

  create an empire, and to grasp at something when you didn't believe you

  could achieve it was a waste of time. He had no real interest in politics,

  as his father had had, no interest in the wheeling and dealing and

  political chicanery that were necessary to an illustrious public career,

  no real interest in anything other than trying to be a good husband and

  father.

  He wondered where his dreams of youth had gone. He no longer felt the

  urge to settle on the frontier, or cross the Rockies, or see California.

  It might have been different if he'd gone with Wesley to Texas, all those

  years ago, and left the inheritance to one of his brothers, but his sense

  of honor and responsibility would not have allowed him to do that. He

  wondered what it would have been like if A.J. had lived and become Massa,

  and Jass had been free to follow his own star, but he wasn't sure what

  his star was.

  Even in the trivia of life he had failed to be his father's son. James

  had been one of the most renowned breeders of Thoroughbred horses in the

  country. Jass had a few fighting cocks, which didn't do very well in the

  pit.

  For fifteen years, then, he had jogged along with no sense of direction,

  and the estate had dwindled around him. Now Fortune had matched him to

  his time, and he stood on the brink of his adventure.

  Secession by at least some of the Southern states would happen. Jass was

  sure of that. And since those states couldn't survive on their own, they

  would band together in some way, and a new golden age of prosperity lay

  before them. Free of the constraints of Washington, of federal

  regulations and tariffs, free of the debilitating need to defend and

  fight for their right to own slaves, this new confederation of Southern

  states
could form its own alliances and trading patterns and partners,

  and the resulting wealth would no longer have to subsidize

  460 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

  the impecunious Northern industries and the increasing bureaucracy of the

  federal government. The many visitors to The Forks over the last few months

  had persuaded Jass, if only because of the residual influence of his

  father's name, that he could be a voice in this New Jerusalem, and Jass had

  been flattered and motivated, and had agreed. The Southern states would be

  free at last to become masters of their own destiny, and he would be part of

  it.

  If the North let them. Few of Jass's friends wanted war; they wanted to be

  left alone, to get on with their own business, and if that meant leaving

  the Union, so be it. But the North, that is, the federal government, that

  is, Lincoln, had sworn they would not, could not, leave. The Union would be

  preserved, no matter what.

  Well, some of them were going to leave-it was as certain as night follows

  day-and then Lincoln could either back down or go to war. From all he had

  heard, Jass did not believe that Lincoln would back down, and the idea of

  war between Americans was not new. Bloody war, civil war, had existed in

  Kansas for almost all of the decade. Settlers from the North were

  determined the territory should be admitted to the Union as a Free State,

  and others from the South had been as determined on an opposite outcome.

  Jass no longer cared if slavery was right or wrong for others; it was right

  for them, for the South. He had seen the figures for the plantation, and

  knew that the Jackson fortune would dwindle even further, might diminish

  entirely, without slaves, and this was true for most of his peers. It

  didn't matter to him that slaveholders were a minority of the Southern

  population: Slave owning was the Southern way, the basis of the Southern

  economy; it kept the few wealthy, so that prosperity would trickle down to

  the many. Without slavery, the South could not exist.

  Nor could he bear the thought that his own niggers, whom he believed he

  cared for and protected, should end up as homeless beggars in city slums,

  as he had seen in the North. He had no desire to increase the realm of the

  South; if the new states and territories wanted to be free of slavery, then

  let them join a free-state Union, which is what he believed Washington now

  represented.

  QUEEN 461

  For there was no real union between the North and South, and never had

  been. Eighty years ago, a group of sovereign teff itories had joined

  together in a common cause, and once the British were defeated they had

  little in common. All the arguments and treaties for union were a waste

  of time, because disunion was inevitable. The Missouri Compromise, Henry

  Clay's Compromise of 1850, the Fugitive Slave Act, and so many others

  were all attempts to paper over an essential gulf.

  "A house divided against itself cannot stand," Lincoln had said, and Jass

  agreed with him. And since the house was divided, then let it fall into

  its separate parts. His fervent prayer now was that the North would not

  interfere with the Southern ambitions, but if they did, if there was war,

  the South would fight to protect its own, and Jass would fight to protect

  what was rightfully, morally, his. And they would win.

  Lizzie had been wrong about his plans for this evening. He would go to

  see Easter, but later. First he had other, more important things to do.

  He went to his study, opened the safe, and took out the two small boxes

  Tom had given him at the bank. Each was filled with a thousand gold

  coins, British sovereigns. Jass went down to the cellar and buried one

  of the boxes in a small hole that he had prepared the previous day, under

  the duckboards, so that it would be unseen.

  He took the other box, a lamp, and a small shovel, and went out into the