Queen (17 page)

    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.

    12

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 "Missys," 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.

    "We must fight England again," he insisted. "I was not old enough to do

    much good in the last war." He meant the Revolution. "I pray the next

    comes before I get too old to fight."

    That Andrew should be looking to the long-term future at all was

    astonishing to James, whose mind was filled with thoughts of the coming

    morning.

    They passed a pleasant evening across the Kentucky line. Andrew regaled

    those at dinner with his thoughts on the state of the world, and no one

    guessed the true'purpose of these strangers.

    James had shared a room with Overton, who fell asleep within moments of

    getting into bed. James stayed awake, almost until dawn, his mind racing

    with ideas and forebodings. He could not imagine what it must feel like

    to go to bed knowing that this might be your last night on earth, but

    memories of his nights at Gorey Hill, before a battle with the British,

    came to him. He remembered the fear he felt then, and prayed that he

    would never know such a feeling again in his life. He wondered what he

    would do if he was ever challenged to a duel, and did not dare to

    consider his response.

Alfred woke them and his Massa at five the following moming. James was

completely uncertain about what was expected of him.

"Just be there," Overton told him. "I'll do all the rest."

    Andrew joined them, and said he was looking forward to a good breakfast,

    after they had attended to business.

    They met at the arranged location, on the bank of the river, just after

    dawn. It was a pleasant place, a small grove surrounded by poplars, and

    James saw deer on the opposite bank. Mist lay on the river.

    Andrew got out of the carriage, stretched his arms and went for a quick

    stroll, to exercise his muscles. Throughout the short drive, he had

    talked only of the future.

    BLOODLINES 101

    Dickerson was already there, with his second, Dr. Catlett. They tossed

    for position and Dickerson won, but the sun was hardly up, so it made

    little difference.

    James held the box containing the two pistols, and the duelists took

    their pick.

    Andrew and Dickerson paced to position, and Overton gave the order to

    fire.

    James thought that nature must have arrested time. Everything seemed to

    happen so slowly.

    He saw Dickerson raise his gun, slowly, and point it at Andrew, slowly.

    James was sweating. Dickerson was known to be a crack shot. Would the man

    never fire?

    Alfred, standing near James, stared at the scene impassively, but was

    filled with emotion. There was more than one man's future at stake, if

    only one man's life.

Andrew stood stock-still.

Dickerson fired.

Andrew stood still.

    James almost cried out in joy and relief, but only Dickerson spoke.

    "My God! Have I missed him?" he cried, and stumbled away from his

    position.

"To your mark, sir," Overton ordered.

    Slowly, so very slowly, Dickerson returned to his mark, like a condemned

    man approaching the gallows.

Slowly, so very slowly, Andrew raised his gun and fired.

There was a click. The gun had misfired.

    Slowly, so very slowly, Andrew reset, aimed, and fired again.

Slowly, so very slowly, Dickerson swayed to the ground.

    Dr. Catlett ran to attend him. He lived for the rest of that day in

    agony, and died that night.

    James and Alfred moved quickly to Andrew, and saw with horror that there

    was a hole in Andrew's jacket, just below his heart, and blood all over

    his boots.

    "I think he pinked me," Andrew said, his face contorted in pain.

    They got him to a surgeon, who took out the bullet and patched him up.

    They got him home and put him to bed.

102 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

Rachel nursed him, and when she could not, Alfred was always there. He did

not leave his Massa's room for a month. When Andrew recovered, he gave

orders that Alfred was to be moved from the slave quarters to a bedroom

next to his own in the main house.

    Rachel fell to her knees and gave thanks to God for her husband's

    deliverance, but she prayed for the dead man's wife as well.

    "God have pity on her," Rachel begged. "And on her poor child. "

    Mrs. Dickerson had been six months pregnant when Andrew killed her

    husband.

    13

James attended Andrew at three other duels after that, but none had the

same impact on him as the first because none of the others was fatal. It

was enough to satisfy the honor of both antagonists that they had accepted

the challenge and presented themselves, and they simply fired their guns

in the air. On two occasions, Andrew got drunk with his opponent

afterward, and they would end the evening slapping each other on the back

and laughing about their quarrel, but this never happened in the case of

those who had slandered his wife.

    Andrew got drunk often in the early days of his friendship with James,

    in the frustrating years of the embargo. Andrew could not bear inactivity

    or indecision. He longed for a chance to trounce the British, he longed

    to test his skill on a real battlefield, and the protracted negotiations

    among America, Britain, and France frustrated him.

    "Let's hit 'em, and hit 'em hard," he cried, but James was never quite

    sure whom he wanted to hit, for Jefferson was included in his

    excoriation. James began to think there might be truth to the stories

    that Andrew had helped Aaron Burr in his wild plans to form a breakaway

    country centered in the

    BLOODLINES 103

west, if only to provoke a war. For Andrew longed for war.

    Sometimes he would arrive at James's house or, if it was early enough in

    the day, at the store, his speech slurred, and swaying on his feet. James

    would put him to bed to sleep it off, or send Ephraim with a message to

    the Hermitage. Then Alfred would come, hoist his inert Massa over his

    shoulders, as gently as a mother with a babe, and take him home in the

    gig.

    Andrew was only a little drunk on the day he introduced James to his

    friends the Polks. They were at the racetrack, and Andrew's mare,

    Virginia, had won a splendid race and earned a handsome purse. Andrew was

    in an expansive mood, and kept introducing everybody to everyone, as

    though they had never met.

    James already knew the Polks, who were a well-established family in the

    district, and did business with him at his store. He did not know the

    young woman who accompanied them that day, and who wore the black of

    mourning.

Sarah McCullough, bom Sarah Moore, was from one of the country's oldest

families. Her grandfather had founded the vast Moorfields estate, and her

ancestry included Sir John Moore, who had been the Royal Governor of South

Carolina in the early days of the colony. The family was of hardy,

Scottish stock, and Sarah, born to wealth, was raised to be self-reliant

and self-sufficient.

    "Never ask anyone to do for you what you cannot do yourself," her father

    told her.

    She could cook and clean and tend the vegetable garden. She was expert

    with horses, and a fair shot with a gun. She could plan elaborate menus

    with economy, and was a gracious hostess. She spoke French fluently, and

    her education had included the classics. She was a caring nurse, and on

    more than one occasion helped the slave women through difficult births.

    She was also beautiful. An awkward gangly girl, and a considerable tomboy

    able to hold her own against her cheerful, pugnacious brothers, she lost

    her teenage angularity, and blossomed into one of the most attractive

    women in the county, with silky, chestnut hair, and limpid, amber eyes.

By the time she was seventeen, she had her choice of many

104 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

suitors, and settled for a handsome, adventurous young man, Samuel