wintry night.
Not far from the weaving house, in a small grove of trees, was an old,
spreading oak. The ground around it was hard, but Jass was full of vigor,
and he quickly dug a hole, laid the box in it, and covered it over. He
tramped on the freshly dug earth, covered the small scar with dried
leaves, and hoped for rain to disguise his handiwork, but in any case he
had chosen his spot carefully. Few people had any reason to come here.
The physical labor had tired him and energized him, and now he went to
Easter.
She was in bed, asleep, but stirred when he came in. She lay silent for
a while, watching him wash his hands in the basin.
"What you bin doin'?" she asked.
He turned and smiled at her. "Nuttin'," he said. She knew better than to
question him further.
462 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
He stripped off his clothes, and climbed into bed with her, snuggling
hard against her, letting her body warm him.
She stroked his hair, and bided her time. She always knew when he needed
to talk to her.
"There's going to be a war, Easter," he said at last.
She did not really understand the implications, very few people did, for
wars didn't happen in Alabama, except once, long ago, against Indians,
but no one could remember that, and Indians didn't count.
She understood one thing, though. She knew the war would be about
slavery, and that if the North won, she might be free. It frightened her,
for she didn't want her life to change.
"Because of slavery?" She knew it, but wanted to hear him confirm it.
"Yes," he said.
They lay in silence again, while another, as frightening, thought crept
up on her.
"Will you fight?" Her voice was a tiny whisper.
He didn't speak, but she felt his head nod.
"Because of slavery?"
Now he moved astride, and looked into her eyes.
"Because of you," he said. "Because I couldn't bear to lose you."
Love of him swept through her, and she gave herself to him, and when he
kissed her, he ignored the taste of salt tears on her cheeks.
Afterward, they drifted to sleep, but woke as they always did, just
before dawn. He dressed and went back to the big house, and remembered
to tell Ephraim, who was already at the stables, to fide to The Sinks and
tell Miss Becky that Lincoln had won the election.
Ephraim stared at him for a long moment.
"We gwine be free, Massa?" he asked.
"Hope not," Jass replied blithely. "I couldn't afford to pay you wages."
He went upstairs, took a bath, dressed for breakfast, and came downstairs
again. Which is when Ephraim came back with the awful news that Miss
Becky had died in the night.
Jass told Lizzie himself, and William and Mary, while Lizzie wept. The
rest of that day was spent in coping with the bereavement.
QUEEN 463
It was not until two days later that he had the time to take Sally for
a walk to an old oak tree behind the weaving house. Already there was
scant evidence of the hole he had dug. He showed it to her, in case
anything should happen to him, and told her of the small provision it
contained for their uncertain future.
54
Pocahontas Rebecca Meredith Boiling Perkins was buried two days later in
a simple grave next to that of her dear departed husband, William. Her
death cast a further pall of despondency over the Jackson family, and no
one except Jass looked forward to Christmas with much enthusiasm. Lizzie
took to her bed for a week, partly out of grief for her mother, partly out
of concern for the general political situation, and partly out of care for
her unborn child. Sally took over as surrogate mother, and tried to
brighten everyone's spirits, but she was concerned at what the coming year
would bring, and had no real heart for frivolity. William and Mary had
never experienced the death of a loved one in any real sense-they had been
too young to fully understand the passing of Gran'pa Perkins-and Becky's
death disturbed them greatly. Christmas became more of a religious holiday
than a festive one to them, for death and the dangerous times had turned
all their thoughts to God.
Except for Jass, who moumed for Becky but gloried in the preparations for
the coming Southern triumph. He spent little time with his family, but
journeyed each day to Florence, to plot and plan with like-minded
friends, and to be near the telegraph office. Hope of a bright,
independent future, and the excitement of possible action, overrode their
genuine fear of war. All of them believed that the critical arguments
between the North and the South, as old as the country, had to be
resolved, but there were many who were dedicated to the Un-
464 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
ion, and the arguments for and against breaking away raged between
lifelong friends.
In the middle of December Jass received a letter from his old college
chum, George Pritchard. The letter was friendly and informative,
describing the Northern attitude to the election, and the present public
mood. Although a few thought that if any Southern states wanted to secede
they should be allowed to go in peace, for it was not worth blood to keep
them, most of his friends believed that the Union must be preserved at
no matter what cost, and the truculent Southern states be brought to
heel. George reiterated his strident opposition to the institution of
slavery, and asked Jass to cast his lot with those Southerners, and there
were many, George thought, who believed in emancipation. Most of all, he
begged Jass to use whatever influence he had to persuade his political
friends in Alabama not to take the dangerous path of disunion.
"We are the future," George wrote, "it is molded by us, and perhaps the
die is already cast. But we cannot go lightly into this unknown
territory, for it may bring the end of that which we both hold dear and
for which we would gladly have given our lives, our country. We are one
nation, under God, indivisible. It is my most fervent belief that the new
President will act most forcibly against any attempt to wreck that cov-
enant, and that will set friend against friend, cousin against cousin,
brother against brother. Surely there must be a way to bring about a
peaceful resolution to this crisis, for I cannot believe that, in your
heart, you wish to kill me, just as I have no desire to destroy you. Yet
if the extreme voices on both sides have their way, that will surely be
the outcome, and all of us will lose."
The letter ended warmly and affectionately with the compliments of the
season to all the Jacksons from all the Pritchard family, and George
wished especially to be remembered to Cap'n Jack.
Jass was touched by the letter. He read it twice and then put it away in
a drawer. It was too late; the die was already cast. Alabama would not
be the first to secede,
and if no other state did, Alabama would not, he
knew from discussions with his political friends. But if another state
took the giant leap first, Alabama would not be the last to follow.
QUEEN 465
On the twentieth of December South Carolina adopted the ordinance of
secession from the Union. Throughout the state the announcement was
greeted with bands, church bells, and cannon fire, and joyously received
by the populace. Whatever their attitude to South Carolina's actions, the
rest of the South held its breath, but nothing happened.
Outgoing President Buchanan chose to do nothing. The president-elect
could do nothing. So nothing was done.
Euphoria swept the South. Sanity had prevailed. South Carolina was now
a sovereign country, and no wrathful Yankee army challenged her
independence. Christmas Eve in Florence was as splendid and exultant as
anyone could remember. The churches were full. The shops stayed open
late; the taverns didn't close their doors. The streets were thronged
with people, all wishing each other, from the bottom of their hearts, the
merriest Christmas and the happiest of all New Years.
There were dissenting voices, those who, like George Pritchard, took
their pledge of allegiance to the Union as a most solemn vow, but they
were lost in the extravagant excitement and the general relief that there
wasn't going to be a war, Jass was euphoric, and galloped home from
Florence, shouting the news to anyone who might listen. He gathered his
family into his joyous embrace, and Christmas became, after all, a splen-
did celebration, with Jass the most genial Santa Claus.
The slaves at The Forks had no cause to celebrate or the means to do so.
South Carolina's action was fatal to their dreams, and the lack of
retaliation by the North proved the promises of Linkun to be empty. They
knew little of him except what they had heard through the grapevine, but
they had allowed themselves to believe, because they wanted to, because
they needed to, that he represented a possible end to their bondage. Now
all they saw was a future as hopeless as their past.
Cap'n Jack shut himself in his cabin, and swore he would not come out
until he was carried out, in his coffin. Queen was allowed to spend part
of Christmas Day with her mammy, and she and Easter went to Cap'n Jack's
cabin and banged on the door, begging him to join them at the weaving
house, but he would not. The last best chance of seeing freedom in his
466 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
lifetime was gone and now he wanted to die, he shouted at them.
The women shrugged and left him to his tantrum. They spent a happy day
together, with no special celebration, content to be in each other's
company, and content with the way the world was going, for neither of
them wanted war, neither of them particularly wanted the slave dream of
freedom to become reality without the condition both women attached to
it, which was that they be allowed to stay at The Forks, in circumstances
they both understood. For each woman, in her separate way, loved the same
man, and that man was their Massa.
Parson Dick was as depressed as Cap'n Jack, but had a happier solution.
He stole a bottle of brandy from the cellar and decided to get drunk. Not
wanting to be alone, he tucked the bottle under his jacket and went to
Cap'n Jack's cabin.
"Go away," the recluse shouted.
"I got liquor," Parson Dick called softly.
After a few moments of silence, Cap'n Jack opened the door. Parson Dick
went inside, and the two old friends drowned their sorrows in Jass's good
cognac.
Like the other slaves, Parson Dick had heard the rumors that this new
president was their champion against slavery, but he had more immediate
reasons than most to hope that the rumors were true.
For Parson Dick had fallen in love.
A few months ago, the Coffee family had requested that Jass loan them
Parson Dick for a week. Their own butler was ill, they had two important
functions to host, and it seemed silly to buy a new slave, but they would
happily pay for the temporary butler. Jass, genial as ever and having no
particular need of Parson Dick that week, had agreed. Slaves were fre-
quently hired out to others, and their Massa paid for their services, so
Parson Dick made the short journey to the Coffee plantation on the other
side of Florence with his warrant of travel in his pocket, and quickly
took charge of the household. As he was serving port one evening, a guest
commented on the excellence of his manners. Massa Coffee laughed, and
said he hoped so, the damned nigger was costing enough. Then Parson Dick
found out that Jass was receiving forty dollars for his hire, with not
one cent of it going to the slave.
QUEEN 467
Expert at simple arithmetic, Parson Dick multiplied forty dollars a week
by fifty-two, and realized that if the money had come to him he would be
earning over two thousand dollars a year. Parson Dick was stunned. He
knew he had value as a slave-on the block he would have fetched a
splendid sum, perhaps as much as three thousand-but that was a once only
figure, and this new sum represented a regular income. Like every slave,
he longed to be free, longed to be paid for his labor, but because the
dream of freedom was so elusive, he had never bothered to work out what
he might earn when that glorious day came.
Two thousand dollars a year! It was a phenomenal sum, and it infuriated
him that Jass was receiving that money and not he. Later that night he
sat in the kitchen with Ruby, the Coffee housekeeper, with whom he had
struck, up an immediate friendship, and poured out his grievances to her.
Ruby was completely sympathetic, completely understanding, completely
supportive, and even more bitter about her circumstances than Parson
Dick. She had been owned for many years by a Massa in Georgia, had nursed
him through his ailing final days, and on his deathbed, he had promised
her freedom. Once the old man had gone, his surviving relatives saw no
need or reason to honor the pledge, and had sold Ruby to her present
owners.
Fueled by Parson Dick's indignation, she worked out what her weekly value
might be, and the pair realized that, jointly, they would bring in over
three thousand a year. If they were free. The figures shocked them.
They also realized that they wanted to be together, to be a pair, to be
married, but they had no way of achieving it or, if they did marry, of
living under a common roof, for they had separate Massas and lived on
different plantations. It was remotely possible that if they told their
Massas of their love, then the Coffees might trade their butler for
Parson Dick, or the Jacksons swap their housekeeper, Pattie, for Ruby,
but it was unlikely. It was too complicated. Slaves chose their partners
from other slaves on their own plantation, not from th
e world at large.
And neither Parson Dick nor Ruby wanted to be wed in slavery. The life
they envisioned together in the Coffee kitchen was as a working pair,
living in freedom, earn-
468 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
ing their joint income. Much as they adored each other's company for the
short week they were together, the driving force for both of them was
their innate fury at their status. Desperate overachievers, they lived in
the ill-founded hope that excellence at their jobs would earn them their
freedom. They preferred to maintain that fury, and that hope, by being
forced to live apart when they were so blatantly intended for each other.
If they were free, they promised each other, it would be different. And
they would be free, one day.
They sustained a curious relationship by sending occasional messages to
each other by way of other slaves. When the seed merchant made his rounds
of the plantations, his boy would bring messages of affection from Ruby
to Parson Dick, and the draper's assistant would return the sweet
nothings when he joumeyed, by a rambling route, from The Forks to the
Coffees.
The excitement surrounding the election of Lincoln had persuaded Parson
Dick that freedom for the slaves might become a reality, and so the lack
of any action by the Yankees against the state of South Carolina was an
especially bitter blow for him.
"Never going to happen," he told Cap'n Jack, slurring his words through
a small pond of brandy. "We ain't never going to be free. "
Cap'n Jack agreed with him, and they both got even drunker, and swore
eternal friendship. Then both were sick, and passed out, and had foul
heads the next morning.
In the big house, New Year's Eve was an even happier celebration than
Chfistmas. Jass and Lizzie gave a party for friends and family, and even
though Lizzie was still distressed by her mother's death, she had come to
terms with it, and was, again, a splendid hostess. William, George, and
Alexander came with their wives and new families, and Elizabeth and Tom,
with their hordes of children. Sam Kirkman, their eldest son, was with
them, and Elizabeth his wife, and Elizabeth his baby daughter. Sam had
graduated Phi Beta Kappa from Harvard, and was now practicing medicine.
Jass joked that if there was a war, Sawbones Sam would be in his element,
but everyone laughed, because nobody believed anymore that there was going
to be a war.
QUEEN 469
Queen was allowed to watch the dancing from the hallway, but when the
clock struck midnight she was alone.
They sang "Auld Lang Sync," and then Jass raised his glass in a toast.
"To the South," he cried, and most of them raised their glasses.
"To the Union," Sam Kirkman said softly in the silence while they drank.
No one cheered, no one drank with him, and it soured the party atmosphere
for a while. But Lizzie was too good a hostess to let a little thing like
politics, and an argument between close relations, ruin everyone else's
fun. She organized music and dancing and distracted the children with
silly games.
Sam's quiet affirmation of loyalty to his country depressed Jass. He
watched the games with Lizzie for a while, and kissed away the few tears
she shed because Becky was not with them to celebrate. Becky had always
loved parties, as did Jass, but now he was a different man, and Sam had
killed his appetite for celebration. He wandered away from the group, and
tried to avoid his nephew.
He saw Queen sitting alone on the stairs watching the fun. Since it was
such a special occasion, he took a glass of champagne to her, and sat on
the stairs with her for a while, chatting about the evening, and wished
her Happy New Year.
Queen had never tasted champagne before, nor any alcohol, and even though
it was only a small glass, just two or three sips, she loved the sweet,
sparkling drink, and the bubbly effect it had on her. It made her want
to dance, and her body swayed in time to the party music. Jass saw what