Read Queen Page 20

"You have changed your mind?" James asked him.

  There was another silence.

  "Yes," Andrew said. "I have changed my mind."

  Sally excused herself, and Parson Dick brought port to the table. Andrew

  helped himself to a liberal measure.

  "The country needs me," Andrew said. "We go to rack and ruin. The

  bureaucracy gets larger and fouler and more corrupt by the day, and the

  tentacles of government are reaching farther and farther into our lives,

  until they will strangle us.' I

  It was the old cry, not only of Andrew, but of Thomas Jefferson.

  "We are in debt," Andrew said, warming to his theme. James began to feel

  as if he were a crowd of a thousand, and Andrew was on a soapbox.

  "How can a country as rich as ours be in debt?" Andrew demanded.

  "The war?" James offered mildly, but Andrew snorted in derision.

  "The war is an excuse," he said, close to shouting now. "It is the

  departments and committees and subcommittees that keep us broke-us, the

  poor simple farmers who pay for Washington's excess."

  James tried hard not to smile. Andrew was certainly a farmer, but he was

  not poor, and very far from simple.

  "And that bank!" Andrew sighed heavily. The central government bank was

  his special black beast. "They lend money freely when we don't need it,

  and foreclose on our mortgages when times are bad."

  BLOODLINES 159

  James thought that this was the practice of all banks, but it was true

  that the central bank favored the rich, and especially the

  industrializing North.

  Andrew poured more port, and then smiled.

  "But you know all this; we have discussed it so often," he said.

  "So the time has come?" James asked.

  "The time has come," Andrew agreed. "Not that I want it, no, by the

  eternal, I had as lief stay where I am, with my lovely Rachel and darling

  boys. But what can I do?"

  James understood it was a rhetorical question, and had no need of a

  reply. Andrew would do what he had intended to do all along. In any case,

  it was all nonsense. Andrew's "retirement" was a fiction. He had been

  elected to the Senate in Washington, and spent more than half of each

  year there.

  "The state legislature in Tennessee will formally nominate me for the

  presidency," Andrew said.

  He paused for a moment.

  "I want your help in Alabama."

  I want your help. These were the sweetest words that Andrew had ever said

  to James. I want your help. The old lion, the hero of New Orleans, the

  greatest general since Washington, needed James's help. Through all the

  years that he had walked in Andrew's shadow, James had waited for this

  moment. His political power seemed almost tangible to him.

  "Anything I can do," James responded graciously. "You know you have only

  to ask."

  Andrew nodded his head as graciously, and they got down to business.

  He wanted James to use all his political influence to persuade the

  government of Alabama to nominate him for the presidency.

  "I will propose the motion myself," James agreed.

  Andrew was sure he would get a good popular vote, but in case there was

  a doubt, and the matter had to be resolved in the House of

  Representatives, he wanted James to start drumming up support for him.

  "You know far more people in Washington than I,- James said truthfully,

  but Andrew knew how to flatter his man.

  "Your influence is more substantial than you imagine," he said. "Your

  opinion is well respected."

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  And he wanted money for his campaign.

  "I thought we'd never get to it," James said, and laughed, to soften it.

  Andrew had the grace to smile, but was not altogether pleased by James's

  levity.

  They talked until late, about Andrew's aspirations for himself and the

  country, and they talked of the old days. The drunker Andrew got, the

  longer his speeches about his glorious military career became.

  Alfred sat in the kitchen with Cap'n Jack, while Parson Dick dozed in a

  corner, in case his Massa should ring. Alfred was enchanted by Annie.

  He was unmarried, and longed to find a bride.

  "Dump this ol' buzzard, an' take me instead," he said with a chuckle, and

  Annie smiled, and shook her head.

  Alfred wished them both well, and told Annie stories of the old days in

  Nashville, and of the fun they'd had, and of their rowdy Massas.

  It was a new world for Annie. She was with men whom she liked and

  trusted, and they talked about their Massas with affection, but with a

  sense that they saw all the foibles and weaknesses of the men who owned

  them. They hated their slavery but had no alternative to it.

  "Them niggers runnin' away," Cap'n Jack said, talking of the several

  runaways from The Forks. "Where they gwine go?"

  "Henry got away," Annie said, of the slave who had run away and never

  been found.

  "He didn't come back," Cap'n Jack corrected her gently. "We don't know

  he got away. As like the catchers got him and killed him."

  Alfred nodded. "Any case, I bin up South," he said. Many of the slaves

  referred to the North as up South. "An' it ain't a whole lot differen'

  there. Niggers; is still niggers."

  He changed the subject to happier things, and told them of some of the

  extravagant personalities he had met, with Andrew in Washington, and made

  them laugh. Then the bell rang, and Alfred and Cap'n Jack went to put

  their Massas to bed.

  Sally stirred when James got into bed, but drifted back to sleep. James

  lay awake for a while, thinking of his conver-

  BLOODLINES 161

  sation with Andrew. He had no doubt that Andrew would win the election-he

  was still immensely popular with the people-and it would not hurt James

  to support him or loan him money. It gave him some leverage over Andrew,

  and, once again, it amused him to think that he would have influence with

  the president of the United States, What pleased him most was that Andrew

  thought he needed his help, and had asked for it. The world turns, James

  thought.

  Then he had several ideas, which coalesced into one, which he thought

  brilliant.

  He would host a fine party, here at The Forks, and would invite every

  person of consequence whom he knew. At this party he would announce his

  intention to support Andrew's nomination. He remembered Cap'n Jack's

  coming wedding, and decided to give his guests some real fun. Cap'n Jack

  and Annie would be married at this enormous party, and the world, and his

  slaves, would see the benign face of slavery. They would see that it was

  not all beatings and lashings and rape and exploitation, but rather a

  unique and unrivaled management of the land and people. The South was

  always on the moral defensive about slavery, and James would change that.

  He would take the initiative, and show everyone how the system could be

  used in the best interests of all the pe
ople, white and black.

  The more he thought about it the more extravagant the party became, and

  the more successful his position, and he went to sleep with a big smile

  on his face that was only partly caused by the amount of port he had

  drunk.

  Annie hated the idea when Cap'n Jack told her. She didn't want all that

  fuss. She didn't want all those people staring at her. She wanted a quiet

  ceremony, in which she and Cap'n Jack jumped over the broom into the land

  of matrimony, as her mammy's mammy had done. As all slaves did. But she

  had no choice in the matter. Her Massa had decreed it.

  Of all the many fine functions given at The Forks of Cypress, the wedding

  of Cap'n Jack and Annie was one of the finest. Three hundred guests

  attended, and the Southerners brought their slaves, so that nearly five

  hundred people saw the couple wed. Andrew was in Washington, but he sent

  Al-

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  fred with Richard Coll, his aide from Florida, who was said to be sweet on

  Eleanor's daughter, Mary.

  Annie was nervous, but looked lovely, in a dress that Sally had helped her

  choose, and they giggled about her full belly. Cap'n Jack looked splendid

  in new clothes provided by James. James's daughters Mary, Martha, and Mary

  Ellen attended Annie, and little Sassy was a flower girl. A.J., looking

  very smart, stayed with Sally, and Tiara nursed Jass. At the end of the

  ceremony, the couple jumped over the broom into the land of matrimony, and

  everyone cheered. Even Annie smiled then.

  A vast buffet was laid out on the lawn, and tables of food for the slaves

  at the side of the house. Slave catchers were employed to make sure that

  none of the visiting slaves ran away, and the field hands were given half

  a day off and allowed to watch from a distance. In any case it was fall,

  and the harvest had been picked.

  After everyone had eaten, they gathered to hear James make a speech. He

  praised Cap'n Jack and Annie, and said how proud he was of them, and that

  this day represented proof positive to the Northerners that slavery was

  ultimtely a benevolent institution. He talked about his dear friend Andrew

  Jackson, and his slave Alfred, who was best man at this very wedding, and

  went on to announce his support for the candidacy of Andrew Jackson for the

  presidency. He was wildly applauded.

  The fiddlers struck up the tune, and there was dancing. James and Sally

  mingled with their guests, renewing old friendships, greeting

  acquaintances. James's nephew Tom Kirkman was there with Elizabeth, Sally's

  daughter by her first husband, and they were planning their own wedding.

  "Not another," James laughed. "I can't afford it!"

  William Perkins was there, whom James hardly remembered until Tom reminded

  him. Perkins had bought a property in Florence, and was full of gratitude

  to James and Tom.

  John Coffee was there, with his family, and a man James didn't know. He was

  introduced as Egbert Harris.

  "Told you I'd find you an overseer," John Coffee said to James. "This man's

  one of the best."

  They shook hands, and talked brietly, and agreed to meet again later, when

  the guests had gone.

  BLOODLINES 163

  At the side of the house, the slaves had their own party, and made their

  own music, and had a high old time.

  But James did not.

  Full of good cheer toward the world, he talked with some of his political

  friends, and was surprised to discover the amount of antagonism that

  existed toward the idea of Andrew as president.

  Andrew was uncouth, hot-tempered, and unpredictable. James could only

  agree.

  Andrew was a dueler and a street brawler. James could only agree.

  He had antagonized the Spanish in Florida. James could only agree.

  He had antagonized Britain, which was the South's major trading partner.

  James could only agree.

  He would destroy the central bank and allow the individual state banks

  to flourish without control. James could only agree.

  He had no experience in administration. James could only agree.

  He was ruthless in his dealings with the Indians. James could only agree.

  He had obtained his Indian treaties illegally, sometimes, perhaps often,

  with bribes.

  James's blood ran cold.

  How did anyone know?

  He left the party in a foul mood, and went to his study. He heard a tiny

  voice of doubt, like the whisper of wind in the trees before a storm.

  Had he backed the wrong man?

  He shook the doubts aside. Of course Andrew would win; the public adored

  him.

  But did they?

  They admired him-as a hero, a general, a soldier-but would they vote for

  him as president?

  In the South, almost certainly, but in the North he was known to be

  rabidly against industry, which was the life blood of the New England

  states. He venerated the simple fanner, but believed in untrammeled

  capitalism, which sometimes destroyed the farmers whose cause he

  espoused. He was also a slaveholder, and dedicated to the expansion of

  the number of

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  slave states, which the New Englanders fiercely resented.

  Even if the public did vote for him, they might not vote in sufficient

  numbers, and if the election had to be decided in the House of

  Representatives, James could not swear to the outcome. For the first time,

  he understood why Andrew had come to him for help.

  He cursed himself for a fool, for not thinking things over before he had so

  rashly allied himself to Andrew's cause. The damage was done; he was

  committed, but he would tread very carefully from now on. And he would ask

  Sally's opinion.

  There was a tap on the door, and Egbert Harris came in.

  "Sorry to bother you," he said. "But there's been trouble, with your

  slaves."

  James was astonished.

  "A couple of 'em got hold of some liquor and started a fight," Harris

  explained. "I guess it was a setup, because in the fuss another two tried

  to run away."

  James was furious. On this day, of all days, after all he had done for

  them.

  "Damned niggers!" he cried. "After all I've done for them. "

  Evans, he knew, would be useless. "Get the slave catchers," he shouted.

  "Get the bloodhounds."

  Egbert Harris smiled.

  "No need," he said. "I took the liberty. They didn't get far. One of 'em's

  a bit of a bloody mess. He won't try running away again for a while."

  James wasn't sure what to say, but thanked Harris, and asked him his terms.

  The money was quickly settled. The conditions took a little longer. Harris

  wanted total authority over the slaves, the permission to enforce

  discipline the way he saw it, and no questions asked. In return he

  guaranteed productivity.

  "Though it'll take me a while," he said, "to bring 'em into line. Things

  have been lax around h
ere."

  James nodded. If the slaves had chosen this day, of all days, to run away,

  then things were in a worse state than he had suspected. He was filled with

  disappointment, and agreed to Harris's conditions.

  "And the house niggers," Harris said.

  BLOODLINES 165

  James thought for a moment.

  "Those who work in the house are valued and trusted, and have been with

  me many years," he said.

  Harris shrugged. "Have it your way. Don't blame me if things go wrong."

  He was rough and forthright, and James wasn't sure that he liked him, but

  he had no alternative. If the slaves needed discipline, then discipline

  there would be. It was agreed that Harris would commence with James in

  three months, after he had squared things with his present employer and

  gone home to Nashville to see his family.

  They shook hands, and Harris excused himself. James sat at his desk,

  furious with himself about Andrew, and the wretched ingratitude of his

  slaves. Then he remembered who he was. One of the richest men in the

  state, of enormous influence, and a state senator. He was a powerful man.

  He would start to use his power. Even Andrew Jackson had come to him for

  help.

  Egbert Harris started work as overseer at The Forks of Cypress three

  months later, as agreed.

  Shortly before his arrival, Annie delivered a girt child to the doting

  Cap'n Jack, and they called her Easter, because she was born on the day

  of resurrection.

  20

  Sally tried to block her ears to the screams, She hated it

  when the slaves were whipped. She hated Harris for doing it,

  and hated the fact that it was necessary. In the first few weeks

  of his tenure, Harris had a whipping block made at the slave

  quarters, and instituted a regime of ruthless punishment for the

  slightest offenses. Every few days, it seemed, Harris would

  find reason to have one of the slaves flogged, and for the first

  time Sally heard, on a regular basis, the primal sounds that are

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  made by a human being in unendurable agony, and she couldn't bear the

  screams.

  She demanded that the block be moved to some location farther from the

  house because it was giving the children nightmares, and Harris had

  reluctantly acceded. It didn't make any difference. The pitiful cries of

  the victims still reached the house, and Sally began taking the children

  out, on picnics to the river, or into town, when she knew a flogging had

  been ordered.

  She could not understand why it had all gone so wrong. As a girl she had

  been brought up with slavery, and believed in its necessity. On her

  father's estate, some slaves had been flogged occasionally, for serious

  offenses, and she hated it then but accepted it as a fact of life. In

  Nashville, when she married James, there had been very little trouble with

  the slaves, and Evans had maintained an easy discipline, by use of the

  switch or the rod or, on one occasion, selling away a young troublemaker,

  but otherwise she had thought the people happy.

  When the mansion was being built, the workers had not caused any trouble.

  They seemed to take pride in their craft, and their foremen kept them in

  line.

  But from the moment they had bought the new field hands and started

  planting the new fields, everything had changed. In her own mind, Sally

  blamed it on the Denmark Vesey plot, which had caused considerable

  discussion in the slave ranks, and the runaways had begun then. She

  believed, as James did, that Evans did not have the necessary authority to

  enforce discipline in these difficult times, and while she disliked Harris,

  and bitterly regretted the necessity of employing him, she saw no

  alternative.

  Her heart bled for James, who had worked so hard to achieve his ambitions;

  she blessed those slaves who were loyal to them, and she pitied and

  despised those slaves who were the troublemakers. She examined her attitude

  to slavery, and believed at the core of her being that it was the best

  possible institution for the welfare of the black people, who, like chil-

  dren, were not fitted to survive in the jungle of the white world. She