Queen (116 page)

    urgency than ever. She clutched Queen to her.

    "There will be terrible work done this night," she whispered.

"It is the Klan."

    For a split second that might have been an eternity, Queen was petrified.

    She knew of the Klan. She had seen the dark seeds of it outside Decatur

    when the masked men had burned the barn, careless if any died in the

    conflagration, as one woman did. She first heard the formal name on her

    journeys, this avenging servant of Lucifer, and she was told the rivers

    of the South held countless bodies of those secretly done to death, and

    the earth held the unknown graves of those who had been burned from life.

    She panicked for Davis. Reassured by Mrs. Benson as to Abner's welfare,

    she ran to the stables, saddled and mounted a workhorse, and rode into

    the twilight, the gloaming.

    She did not know that she was followed by a masked white man, who had

    bound his horse's hooves with cloths to deaden their sound.

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They gathered in the forest at night, for darkness was their friend, and

what they did could not withstand the glare of the sun, for it was obscene

to God. They claimed divine inspiration for their work and that they stood

on the right hand of the celestial throne, but, like the archangel Lucifer,

they had fallen from grace, never to rise again. Their symbol was a cross,

but it burned with the flames of hell, from whence it had come. Their robes

were black, as befitted their satanic origins, but they wore white hoods, to

keep their faces hidden from the angels. Their trumpets were clarion calls

to violent death.

    In the bright light of day they might have seemed like ordinary men, far

    too mild for the work they did, and they needed anonymity to make them

    brave. Often they knew their victims well, and had grown up with them, and,

    cowards, could not kill their helpless fr-iends without the mask of night.

    They took strength from their numbers, which were spread wide throughout

    the land, a huge and hideous secret society whose leaders traveled far from

    their own homes to spread their demon seed.

    So a man had come to them from far away, and stood before them now, in

    front of the cross of fire. They chanted prayers and sang loud hymns, and

    did not know that the cacophony made heaven weep.

    "This is our land," the speaker roared at them. "White man's land, given to

    us by God's covenant. But the vile nigger would steal it from us, and we

    must fight and kill, for if we do not stop them now, where will it end?"

    They loved their country and had fought for it honorably in the war, but in

    defeat they would not surrender their cause. Killing became their creed.

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    QUEEN 707

    I am not ashamed to be a white American. I am not afraid to die in

    defense of my country and my way of life. I am not afraid to kill to

    defend my country and my way of life. It is my sacred duty."

    They claimed they did not hate the nigger just because he was black.

    "Miscegenation is our destruction. The African black was a harmless,

    docile animal, happy in the place that the Bible had allotted him. But

    liberal Yankees and the lecherous Jew have inbred with the creature, and

    created a new and impure race who think themselves our equal. They would

    take the very food from our mouths, and the land from our people."

Most of all, they feared one thing.

"And rape our women!"

And had one solution.

    "They must be chopped out root and branch, if the tree of white hope is

    to survive."

    The leader stopped, and a lone voice cried the response to the catechism.

"Let them bum! Let them bum!"

    All the voices took up the cry, until the night resounded with the

    chanting.

"Bum! Bum! Bum!"

"Let the nigger bum in hell!"

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ToMrs. Benson it was all so simple she could not understand

why there was any dispute. It was a covenant with God, and

anyone who disputed it was blasphemous and heretic. Initially,

her fury had not been directed at the nigras, for they were

ignorant animals, led piteously astray by atheists. The Repub

lican party was to blame, and its monstrous leader Lincoln,

who, with Satan's help, had devastated the South, freed the

slaves, and brought anarchy to what had been Eden. When

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Lincoln was struck down by an avenging angel who acted under divine

direction, Mrs. Benson fell to her knees in awe of what her Maker had

wrought. But the damage to the South had been done, and must be corrected.

They bore Lincoln's lieutenant, Johnson, with ill grace, but when the

butcher Grant ran for the presidency, Mrs. Benson and her husband had

vowed to do everything in their power to defeat him and his party.

    They were not circumspect in voicing their opinions, nor alone in their

    feelings. Politically active, they had been introduced to some charming

    people who were members of a social club, originally founded in

    Tennessee, that was dedicated to the glory and supremacy of white

    America. That the activities of the club included occasional nighttime

    violence toward blacks was not distasteful to the Bensons. After the

    indignities that defeat in war had heaped on them, the men had to have

    some outlet for their energy and loss of honor, and the women cheered

    them on. The coming election gave specific focus to their ideals and

    their wrath. Wearing black robes and white masks to disguise their faces,

    they broke up Republican meetings and parades, and on election day itself

    had successfully prevented many from voting. Grant won in spite of this,

    by margins that appalled them, and the Bensons believed that while they

    had done well, they had not done enough. It also became clear to them

    that the most potent way to achieve their aims was to rid the land of the

    pestilential black.

    When she was little, her parents, devout Protestants, in

structed her diligently. They taught her that the Bible was the

unedited manuscript of ' God, and the foundation of all their

lives. That Jews were the sons of Cain and had murdered

Christ. That niggers were the sons of Ham who had mocked

his father, the patriarch Noah, and God, in revenge, had taken

his soul. That Catholics were idolaters who worshiped graven

images, who bought their way out of damnation, and who gave

to a man, the Pope, the omnipotence of the Almighty.

    As a girl growing up in southern Georgia, she never met a Jew, and she

    had never actually despised the nigras for they were not worthy of it.

    They were simply nigras and slaves and she had enjoyed the company of

    many, as she would enjoy the company of a pet dog or cat. As she grew

    older, she came

    QUEEN 709

to fear black men, convinced she was an object of their sexual desire, and

she lived in mortal fear of being raped. She might survive the rape, but

could not bear the taint of it nor any issue from it, and would kill

herself and the fetus before she gave birth to a mulatto.

    Shortly before the war, and partly because of the Northern belligerence,

    she married a very eligible young merchant from Atlanta whom she had met

    at her coming-out ball, and who shared her ambitions and attitudes. Both

    were formidable overachievers and planned an exemplary life. They

    believed devoutly in God and as devoutly in the Confederation, and

    detested abolitionists, emancipationists, and all could not understand

    the simple truth. White Christians were bom to rule and all others to

    serve. America would be a wasteland inhabited by naked savages if it were

    -not for white vision, white industry, white intelligence. The blacks had

    been rescued from the jungle and brought to this country to share the

    white man's bounty, and should be grateful for it. But, like the

    senseless animals they were, nothing was ever enough for nigras; the more

    you gave them the more they expected, and the only discipline they

    understood was the lash.

    When the war came, Mrs. Benson's husband enlisted immediately and was

    killed in the battle of Antietam.

It broke Mrs. Benson's hearL She ne - ver forgave Lincoln,

she never forgave the Yankees, and she never forgave the ni

gras, who were the cause of it all.

    She went back to live with her parents in the country and wore widow's

    weeds for the rest of the war. Convinced she would never marry again, she

    devoted her life to charitable causes, but longed for a man in her life.

    At a social event she met a prosperous businessman from Atlanta whose

    health had prevented him from enlisting in the military. He had done what

    he could as a civilian, supplying munitions to the Confederate

    government, and his patriotism had been rewarded with excellent profits.

    Thanks to his poor health and judicious investments in California, he had

    survived the war in good shape, physically and financially. His

    intolerance of Yankees and nigras was greater than her own, and he fueled

    her new hatred, and mended her broken heart. He informed her of the

    insatiable sexual habits of the decadent, animal nigger, and

710 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

conjured up a potential nightmare world of miscegenation, in which the

blood of good, industrious whites would be sullied and abased, and the

progeny dragged down to the level of the jungle. He also told her of the

Jewish conspiracy to rule the world and destroy all Christians just as

they had killed Jesus.

    They married two years after the war, and devoted their lives to the

    single-minded belief that the South would rise again. His zeal and sense

    of duty made Mr. Benson a wellrespected member of their club, and they

    traveled the state together, forming new chapters, encouraging new

    members, and doing the violent errands that they believed would restore

    them to God's favor. In all things they were a partnership, and Mrs.

    Benson attended meetings with her husband, wore their uniform with pride,

    was never far from her husband's side.

    Except tonight. She could not be with him tonight. She had done her

    night's work, and she sat in the hotel sitting room, rocking William on

    her lap, and waiting for his nurse.

Queen rode fast to Davis, unaware that she was revealing his location to

a masked white man who was silently following her. Guards took her to him

when she got to the shack, but she could not persuade them to leave.

    "But they know where you are," she cried, for she believed what Mrs.

    Benson had told her.

    Davis was silent, and Queen believed he was considering a decision, but

    he was not. He was accepting his fate.

    "Then let them come," he said. "We cannot run forever. I will not."

    He had never tried to avoid the consequences of his stubborn convictions;

    indeed, he almost seemed to embrace them. When he ran away from the

    plantation it was so that he would be caught, returned, and punished,

    even unto death, in a vain attempt to shame his Massas.

"It's the Klan!" Queen cried again. "They'll kill you!"

    But he had guards and guns, he told her, and would be safe. She begged

    him to go, pleaded to be allowed to stay with him.

"No," he said. "Go to the boy. He is the future."

    He hugged her and kissed her, and forced her away from him, and then he

    gathered his few men and made preparations for their coming visitors.

    QUEEN 711

Queen would not allow herself to believe that she had said a final good-bye

to him, could not believe he would die. She dreaded what this night would

bring, but took the duty he had given her as a solemn charge. Whatever else

happened, Abner had to be protected. At the hotel, she ran quickly up the

stairs and went to the Bensons' suite. She knocked, but the door was open

and she went in. The sitting room was empty, so she went to the nursery,

calling for Abner.

    William was asleep in his cot, but Abner was not there. Her heart began to

    worry for him, although her mind told her he was safe, with Mrs. Benson.

    She went back into the sitting room, and saw that Mrs. Benson had come from

    the main bedroom and was locking the door to the suite.

"Where's Abner?" she cried.

    Mrs. Benson put the key in her pocket and turned from the door. She smiled

    at Queen, for she was content, and happy.

    "Abner isn't here," she said. "He is doing God's work tonight. "

    There was something in her manner that caused in Queen the primal urges

    that only a mother can know, when she is sure her offspring is in mortal

    danger.

    "Where is he? Where's my baby?" she asked apprehensively.

    "He is with his father," Mrs. Benson said. "Whether he lives or dies