Read Queen Page 12

It had never been a promise, only a carrot, and in the end it had been

  a lie. A white man's lie, to keep the black man complaisant.

  "If you work hard for me, willingly and well, then, when the time is

  right, I will give you your freedom."

  Cap'n Jack didn't believe him. "When?" he asked.

  "When you have earned it," James said, and believed it when it was said.

  Cap'n Jack turned away. It was the old lie.

  92 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

  "I give you my word," James said quietly, for he had seen the disbelief

  in Cap'n Jack's eyes.

  "I swear it."

  What could Cap'n Jack do but believe him? It was his only hope.

  The problem of finding a wife was not so easily solved.

  There had been several women in James's life, for he cut a dashing

  figure, and was considered quite a catch, but he had never felt more than

  passing affection for any of them.

  It made Eleanor cross.

  "For heaven's sake, Jamie," she chided him. She would never call him

  James. "You've had quite long enough to sow your wild oats."

  James smiled ruefully. He had sown very few wild oats.

  "You are a man of substance," Eleanor continued. "You must have sons. If

  anything should happen to you, God forbid, what would become of all

  this?"

  James thought it was a cold-blooded reason for getting married and having

  a family, but he took her point. He looked at his estate. What would

  become of it all if something happened to him? He resolved to make a new

  will, in favor of Eleanor's boys, and Sara's.

  "What are you waiting for?" Eleanor demanded, concerned for her brother.

  "I don't know," Jaynes shrugged. "Love, I suppose."

  Eleanor gave a small sigh of exasperation.

  "Jamie," she cried. "Be your age."

  James was tired of it. He knew what was expected of him. He wanted to

  marry; he wanted to raise a family. He loved having all his nieces and

  nephews around, and wanted his own sons and daughters. But he wanted to

  fall in love. He wanted to know what it was about love that moved people

  to do ex-

  BLOODLINES 93

  traordinary things. He wanted to know what it was that the poets wrote

  about. He wanted to know what it was like to have a heart so full that the

  loss of the loved one might cause it to break.

  "You found love," he said testily, to Eleanor. "You had Oliver."

  "Yes, I did," Eleanor agreed. "And what a wild and wonderful time it

  was."

  She lapsed into pretty memory for a moment, but then shook herself from

  the past and told James a tiny secret.

  "But Thomas is the better husband," she said softly.

  James was shocked. He had always imagined Eleanor and Oliver to be soul

  mates, a passionate couple whose lives intertwined in events of great

  moment. He could not imagine how the kind, balding, bespectacled Thomas

  Kirkman could be a better husband than the dashing, fiery Oliver. But he

  was grateful for the confidence Eleanor's confession gave him. He longed

  to be more like Oliver, Sean, or Washington, or especially Andrew, but

  doubted that he had that much bravado.

  He wondered if he was scared of marriage because of his father. He could

  not countenance the idea that his children would not love him.

  Mostly, he envied Andrew Jackson, who had found in his Rachel a marriage

  that James longed to emulate, and a woman that he adored.

  Rachel Jackson was the most extraordinary woman he had ever met, and

  sometimes when he thought of his dead mother, whom he had never known,

  James thought of Rachel. She was dark-haired, pious and demure, dedicated

  to God and Andrew, although not necessarily in that order, and to her

  sons, who were not her sons.

  The tenth of eleven children bom to John Donelson, who had founded

  Nashville, Rachel had been her father's darling, a vivacious minx of a

  girl, forever getting into scrapes. When she was thirteen, she had

  accompanied her parents, her family, and others on an epic river journey

  from Virginia to Nashville. They traveled a thousand miles, mostly

  through hostile country. Several of their party were killed by Indians,

  and some others drowned. Rachel, brown as a berry, fleet as a deer,

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  survived all the privations with unquenchable good spirits and a tomboy

  appetite for the adventure. She flourished on the frontier and grew into

  a stunning beauty, all dimples and laughter, cherry lips and lustrous

  eyes. She had her pick of suitors, married the handsome Lewis Robards when

  she was eighteen, and went to live with her new husband on his parents'

  estate in Kentucky.

  The marriage was a disaster. Lewis was irrationally jealous, and violent

  toward Rachel when other men paid her attention. He ordered his wife out

  of the house. She returned to her family in Nashville, lived with her

  mother, and retired from the world. But not far enough. She took the eye

  of a dashing young attorney who had come to the district, Andrew Jackson.

  A settlement was negotiated with the contrite Lewis Robards, and Rachel

  returned to her husband. He promptly forgot his contrition, and returned

  to his earlier, jealous violence. Rachel fled her husband a second time,

  and her family thought she would be safe from Robards in Natchez. Since

  she could not undertake the perilous journey through Indian country on

  her own, Andrew Jackson volunteered to accompany her.

  In Natchez they heard that Robards had sued for divorce. They returned

  to Nashville and were married.

  That was the story as they told it. From others, James heard a slightly

  different version. It was rumored that Andrew had seduced Rachel to elope

  with him, which James thought possible. That he had offered to fight a

  duel with Robards, which James thought likely, because Andrew fought more

  duels than any other man in the country. That Andrew and Rachel had

  married bigamously in Natchez, before the divorce was final, which James

  thought unlikely, Andrew was too smart a lawyer for that. Neither Andrew

  nor Rachel could ever be shaken from their simpler, more innocent version

  of the tale, but the rumor of bigamous marriage haunted them all their

  lives. Andrew challenged several men because of it, in defense of his

  wife's honor, and killed at least some of them.

  The rumors had their strongest effect on Rachel. Because of them, and

  perhaps to counteract them, she withdrew from public life, and settled

  for simple happiness with the man she loved. It was hard to see any of

  the passionate creature she must once have been in the somberly clothed,

  deep'ly religious

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  woman who was Rachel now, but sometimes when she talked with James about the

  early days in Nashville, she allowed a little of her old self to show. Her

  cheeks dimpled, and her eyes sparkled and flashed, and there was a hint of

  gentle mockery in her voice, as she teased him with hints as to her romantic

&nbs
p; past.

  She adored Andrew, and he her, and their sadness was that they had no

  children of their own. Sons they had aplenty, orphaned boys of dead

  relatives, and later Andrew adopted a Creek boy, Lincoyen, and they brought

  him up as his own. But their darling was Andrew junior, who was the only

  son they had from infancy.

  Rachel's brother Severn and his wife, Elizabeth, had many children, and,

  after so many, when Elizabeth delivered twin boys, Sevem sent for Rachel

  and Andrew. Elizabeth told her sister-in-law that they had been amply

  blessed, while she had not, and she gave Rachel the pick of the

  four-day-old twins. Rachel chose the littler of the two, and she and Andrew

  raised the boy with love and tenderness, and called him Andrew, in honor of

  the man who was his most doting father.

  In the early days of their marriage they had lived on Andrew's farm at

  Hunter's Hill, but with prosperity he bought a new estate, somewhat closer

  to Nashville, and built a lovely home for them, with landscaped gardens,

  that he called the Hermitage.

  "Soon I shall retire from public life," he told James, "and live here, like

  a simple hermit, and contemplate the world."

  James laughed out loud. Andrew was only fifteen years older than he, and

  James could not imagine that he would ever retire.

  James was a constant and welcome visitor to the Hermitage, and when Andrew

  was away, as frequently happened, on military expeditions or,affairs in

  Washington, James would pay particular attention to Rachel, to make sure she

  was not lonely.

  They would sit together for hours in the lovely garden, and Rachel, who

  cared for James dearly, would talk to him of the past, and instruct him in

  the pioneer ways, and, like Eleanor, chide him for not being married.

  "I can't get married," he told her, laughingly. "The woman I love is

  already spoken for."

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  She slapped his hand with her fan, and blushed, and hid behind dimples.

  These were among the sweetest days of James's life.

  Cap'n Jack loved these visits too, for it gave him a chance to be with his

  old friend Alfred. The two slaves would sit together near the vegetable

  plot, telling yams about their Massas, or gossiping about slave life, or

  simply sitting, in convivial silence, and dreaming, for a sunny moment,

  that they were free.

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  Cap'n Jack was determined to keep his side of the bargain with James. He

  assumed it was unlikely he would be given his freedom at any time in the

  foreseeable future, but he vowed to give James no reason to deny the

  promise.

  He took charge of his Massa's life, and became the most diligent of

  slaves, as Alfred was to Andrew, constantly on guard for his Massa's

  welfare. He advised him, with information gathered on the remarkable

  slave grapevine, as to plots of land that might soon be on the market

  because of a death in someone's family, or what farmers might need to

  sell their cotton early, for need of money. He organized the house

  niggers, and kept a weather eye on the field hands. He made friends with

  Micah and Tiara and helped ease Ephraim through his adolescent years.

  Because his Massa loved racing he took a keen interest in the track, and

  learned about blooded horses.

  Easy of manner, quick of mind, he made friends with the trainers and

  stable hands, and passed any tips he heard along to his Massa. Cap'n Jack

  was fascinated by the tiny jockeys, almost all black, a few free, most

  slaves, and became good friends with one in particular, Monkey Simon.

  BLOODLINES 97

  Monkey Simon came from Senegal, in Africa, where a form of horseracing was

  a traditional sport among the people. He had grown up with horses, and by

  the time he was twelve, despite his hunchback, he had ridden in several

  races. He was captured by slave traders, transported to America, and

  fetched a high price on the block, because good jockeys were highly

  prized. He was purchased by Archibald Simon, a friend of John Coffee's,

  and brought to Nashville. He soon made a considerable name for himself,

  and the crowds adored him, and cheered when he won, which was often. His

  tiny size, his hunchback, and his riding style of clutching the horse's

  neck caused people to say that he rode like a monkey.

  It was a tradition that newborn slaves, or those from Africa, took their

  Massa's surname. The jockey from Senegal became known as "Monkey" Simon,

  and the nickname stayed with him for the rest of his life.

  It was Monkey Simon who taught Cap'n Jack about Africa.

  For all his education, Cap'n Jack had no knowledge of Africa other than

  as a large continent in an atlas. His parents had been bom in America,

  and two of his grandparents were white. Very few of the slaves ever

  talked about Africa, either because they couldn't remember it or, in the

  case of the newer arrivals, because they could not speak English, and by

  the time they had learned it, Africa was only a distant memory.

  Monkey Simon was different. He was a quick study at languages, and

  remembered Senegal very clearly, and loved the country of his birth. On

  those days when he had run a race and was feeling pleased with himself,

  he would sit with his horse in the stable, chuckling about his success,

  and remember his earlier boyhood triumphs on the track, before he was

  captured. Cap'n Jack loved to be with him then, because sometimes Monkey

  Simon would chant the songs of his people, or tell stories of the tribe.

  Because of his racing success, many personal foibles were indulged by his

  Massa, and, a devout Muslim, Monkey Simon was never given pig meat to

  eat. He prayed to the east five times a day, was scrupulously clean in

  his personal habits, and could recite long sections from the holy book,

  which he called the Koran. The aspect of his slavery that distressed him

  the most was that he would never be able to make the pilgrimage to Mecca,

  as all good Muslims strove to do, at least once in their lifetime.

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  He tried to explain to Cap'n Jack what it was like to live in a place

  where the color of a person's skin didn't matter. Most of the Senegalese

  were dark, like himself, but not all were jet black. Some had married

  lighter-skinned traders from other countries, and some, when the big

  ships came with their sails like clouds, had children by the white men

  who sailed them. All these offspring were part of the greater community.

  No man was judged by the color of his skin.

  Cap'n Jack could not imagine such a blessed country. He dreamed of seeing

  Africa, of living in such a society, and would beg his friend to tell him

  more. But the nostalgia for his homeland became too painful for Monkey

  Simon, and instead he took up his banjo and sang songs he had written

  about the Massas, and the strange ways of the white men and their Missys.

  Although racing was a man's sport, it was acceptable for "M
issys," white

  women, to attend the meetings as spectators, and so the Cloverbottorn Race

  Track became the center of social activity in Nashville. It was here that

  Andrew introduced James to many of the leading citizens of the town, and

  the men who would become James's friends, it was here that James had his

  first encounter with dueling, some years before he bought Cap'n Jack, and

  it was here that he met a young widow called Sarah McCullough.

  John Coffee, who owned the track, was a big, burly man, who was

  conservative in all things except his passion for horses and his devotion

  to Andrew. Something of a feud had developed between Andrew, with his

  horse Truxton, and Captain Joseph Erwin, with his horse Ploughboy. The

  horses had been matched in a forfeit race, but Ploughboy went lame, and

  Erwin paid the forfeit. At a later rematch, Truxton had been injured in

  training, and both James and John Coffee advised Andrew to withdraw the

  horse. Andrew would not, because the race had personal relevance for him.

  He had been told that Erwin's son-in-law, Charles Dickerson, had made

  disparaging remarks about Rachel's marital status, repeating the old ru-

  mors about bigamy. Having no proof of the slander, Andrew had let it go

  unchallenged, but he longed to get his revenge on the track.

  BLOODLINES 99

  He went alone into Truxton's stable, nuzzled the horse, looked him in the

  eye, and spoke to him as he spoke to soldiers. Truxton won the race by

  sixty yards.

  Andrew thought it was the end of the feud, but heard that Dickerson had

  slandered Rachel again. Eyes bright with rage, he asked John Overton and

  James to represent him.

  James had never been a second in a duel before-had never seen a duel-and

  it thrilled him to the core. Proud that his new friend had chosen him,

  but nervous about what to do, he accompanied Overton to call on

  Dickerson, and they presented Andrew's challenge. It was accepted.

  On a warm May morning, James and Overton went by carriage to the

  Hermitage, and watched Andrew say a tender farewell to Rachel. He did not

  tell his wife the purpose of his absence, but James was sure that Rachel

  knew. It was not the first duel that Andrew had fought, nor the first in

  Rachel's honor.

  It had been agreed that the duel would take place in Kentucky, because

  Tennessee had laws against the practice. They traveled to Harrison's

  Mills on the Red River. Alfred rode on the box with the coachman.

  James marveled at Andrew's calmness. He spent the journey discussing

  politics, Jefferson, the president, and Aaron Burr, who was to be tried

  for treason and defended by Henry Clay. James knew a little of the

  strange story of Burr, and hints that Andrew was somehow involved in his

  plot to declare the Southwest independent of the United States, but

  Andrew would not be drawn on the subject. He respected and admired Burr,

  as a brilliant but wayward politician and a crack shot in a duel, but

  otherwise he laughed the matter aside.

  "Aaron can't be all bad; he killed Hamilton," Andrew said, and teased

  Overton, who was English. "Personally, I liked Hamilton, but he was a

  monarchist and all for England. He even tried to persuade George

  Washington to take a crown."

  Andrew's commentaries on the history of the country, the founding of it,

  and the already legendary figures who had created it were eternally

  fascinating to James. Andrew had an ability to put everything in

  perspective, and made James feel as if he were a part of things greater

  than himself. He began to think he would like to become involved in

  politics, if only in some small way.

  100 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

  Andrew thought in grander concepts. He was more concerned that Jefferson

  should take some action against Britain. The British Navy was constantly

  harrying the American fleet at sea, and had introduced the first of many

  embargoes against American trade with Europe.