Queen (75 page)

wanted the dismemberment of the country. Sally knew very few people who

actually advocated disunion, but all those same people believed that if

push came to shove, the Southern states could go it alone. The problem was

that they might not be allowed to, for Lincoln seemed to care less about

the freeing of slaves than he did for the maintenance of the federation.

    And what was so important about emancipation? Why were the wretched

    abolitionists so strident in their views? Why had the Yankees been

    foolish enough to elect Lincoln? Confusion set in, for she knew in her

    heart that it was not just the Yankees who had voted for Lincoln; many

    Southerners must have done so, if only out of fear of the consequences

    of secession. Briefly she cursed all men, vain creatures who insisted on

    imposing their views on others. Finally, she realized that what she

    wanted was for the South to be left alone, to go about its business, and

    if that meant a confederation of Southern states,

456 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

then perhaps it was the best solution. There was no need for war. Please,

God, don't let there be war. Yet she wept, for she had loved her nation all

her life; she had been proud to be a citizen of the United States. For

eighty years that blessed country had thriven and prospered, and that it

should all end now, over an issue that was irrelevant to the general welfare

of the majority of the people, was untenable to her. Why should slavery

bother the North when they did not have it?

    It would be a bleak Christmas, she thought, and practicality salvaged her

    from despair. There was so much to do, so many presents still to buy-they

    hadn't even begun to plan the menus yet-and she took refuge from the

    depressing affairs of the day in lists of provisions and gifts.

    Realistically, she knew that her lists would have to be longer than those

    usual for Christmas, since they had to be prepared for the worst. Already,

    with Parson Dick and Julie, she had made sure the cellar was well stocked,

    but she would have to lay in more blankets and sheets, and check with Jass

    that the bams were full. Like sheep jumping fences, the lists lulled her,

    and she drifted into an uneasy sleep.

Lizzie had been feeling chills of fear since that afternoon, when the wild

atmosphere in town had disturbed her, and the chaos that surrounded the

announcement of the election results had terrified her. Lizzie had never

seen such violent emotions on display before, and if this was what the

prospect of war could unleash, she dreaded to imagine the unknown horrors

that the fact of war must bring.

    Lizzie was essentially secure and happy in her life, and, like Jass, she

    loathed change. Jass had proved to be a good and undemanding husband.

    Lizzie's more dominant personality amused him, perhaps because he had a

    refuge from it, and he indulged most of her foibles. He asserted his

    conjugal rights from time to time, but because he was temperate in his de-

    mands, Lizzie was happy to accommodate him. She hated the pain of

    childbirth and its attendant illnesses, and wondered if the illnesses were

    not brought on by fear of the pain, but it was her duty to provide Jass

    with children, and so she bore them with fortitude. She had been desolate

    when tiny Jane died, so soon after childbirth, and she prayed that her new

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baby would be strong and healthy, a boy, she hoped, in case anything awful

should happen to William. Like war.

    Sally looked after most of the domestic issues, leaving Lizzie free to

    socialize and entertain, and while the two would never be close, they had

    become friends. Lizzie could shop and party, and never have to worry about

    the dinner menus unless she chose to, and then Sally always deferred to

    her. She could fret and fuss over the children, or Becky, and Sally would

    always be there to offer advice and a grandmotherly shoulder for the

    children, or Becky, to cry on. Lizzie could pamper and spoil Jass, when he

    allowed her to, or ride around the estate in the company of the politicians

    and business associates who called with increasing frequency because of the

    political crisis, or because of their genuine fondness for Jass and his

    increasing interest in the affairs of their state, and some of them,

    perhaps, because Lizzie was such good fun.

    She had learned to tolerate Queen, who was meek and demure to her, which

    flattered Lizzie, and she enjoyed the sense of power it gave her over

    Easter's brat. She had even learned to tolerate Jass's continuing

    relationship with Easter, because it was discreetly conducted, and relieved

    Lizzie of at least some of her duties in the bedroom.

    Now she believed this almost flawless life was under threat, and she was

    frightened. It was no use looking to Jass for comfort; he only laughed and

    said they might all be better off if Alabama did secede. He was almost

    enjoying himself, Lizzie thought, and had spent much of dinner gossiping

    about the new overseer's wife, whom Lizzie was sorry she hadn't met,

    because she sounded dreadful. Whenever she or Sally had tried to talk about

    the ramifications of Lincoln's election, Jass had been patronizing, and

    told them not to bother their pretty little heads about it. That had made

    them cross, but he was so dearand jolly, the meal had passed pleasantly

    enough.

    The evening had been different. Sally had retired early as she often did.

    She had a little sitting area in her room, and she liked to go there and be

    alone, and write her diary. Jass and Lizzie had sat together, as they

    always did, but he had his head stuck in a book. Lizzie did some petit

    point, and all her fears for the future had simmered through her again, but

    Jass had been no comfort.

458 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

    She wanted to be alone with him, not alone as they were here, but upstairs,

    in bed, drifting to sleep in his safe embrace. She put down her needlework.

    "I think I'll go to bed," she said, and kissed him, hoping he'd get the

    hint.

    He looked up from his book. "Sleep well, my love," he said.

    So that was it. He was going to her. She didn't want him to go, not

    tonight. How could he be so thoughtless?

    "Will you be long?" She could hardly express her need more plainly.

"Oh-a while," he responded. "I have some things to do."

    For an instant, she hated him. She could well imagine what it was he

    planned to do. But she needed him, or his reassurance.

    "Is there going to be a war?" Her voice had a tiny quaver in it, like a

    lost little girl.

Jass heard the cry for help, and closed his book.

    "I'm sure not, my dear,," he said calmly, kindly. "I'm sure it's just

    talk."

    She almost believed him, and felt foolish for being scared. He was always

    so reasonable, and knew so much more about what was going on than she, who

    wafted on the vagaries of any fashionable wind.

    "It's so scary, war," she said. She looked at him longingly, hoping he

    would change his mind, and left the room.

Jass put down his book, and sat in silence. Lizzie was right, it was so

scary, war. Yet exciting, too, for the talk of it, the rumor of it, the

prospect of it, made Jass feel as if he had just wakened from a deep and

lengthy sleep.

    For fifteen years, he felt, he had done nothing except live a prosperous,

    pleasant, unambitious life. For fifteen years, he had been Massa of this

    plantation, yet he had allowed others the control of it. Tom Kirkman and

    Sally between them managed most of the business affairs, largely because

    Jass did not really understand the complexities, and had no real urge to

    learn. He knew that his patrimony had decreased in that time, because while

    Tom was a conscientious and able bookkeeper, both of them erred on the side

    of caution, as if neither was

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prepared to put the great inheritance at risk. Yet by not taking risks,

by swimming with the tide, by having no vision, he had wound up with an

estate worth today perhaps half what it had been when James died. Jass had

always believed himself to be a simple caretaker of the family fortune,

but now he saw that he hadn't taken care of it very well. There had never

seemed much point. He'd never be able to do what his father had done,

create an empire, and to grasp at something when you didn't believe you

could achieve it was a waste of time. He had no real interest in politics,

as his father had had, no interest in the wheeling and dealing and

political chicanery that were necessary to an illustrious public career,

no real interest in anything other than trying to be a good husband and

father.

    He wondered where his dreams of youth had gone. He no longer felt the

    urge to settle on the frontier, or cross the Rockies, or see California.

    It might have been different if he'd gone with Wesley to Texas, all those

    years ago, and left the inheritance to one of his brothers, but his sense

    of honor and responsibility would not have allowed him to do that. He

    wondered what it would have been like if A.J. had lived and become Massa,

    and Jass had been free to follow his own star, but he wasn't sure what

    his star was.

    Even in the trivia of life he had failed to be his father's son. James

    had been one of the most renowned breeders of Thoroughbred horses in the

    country. Jass had a few fighting cocks, which didn't do very well in the

    pit.

    For fifteen years, then, he had jogged along with no sense of direction,

    and the estate had dwindled around him. Now Fortune had matched him to

    his time, and he stood on the brink of his adventure.

    Secession by at least some of the Southern states would happen. Jass was

    sure of that. And since those states couldn't survive on their own, they

    would band together in some way, and a new golden age of prosperity lay

    before them. Free of the constraints of Washington, of federal

    regulations and tariffs, free of the debilitating need to defend and

    fight for their right to own slaves, this new confederation of Southern

    states could form its own alliances and trading patterns and partners,

    and the resulting wealth would no longer have to subsidize

460 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

the impecunious Northern industries and the increasing bureaucracy of the

federal government. The many visitors to The Forks over the last few months

had persuaded Jass, if only because of the residual influence of his

father's name, that he could be a voice in this New Jerusalem, and Jass had

been flattered and motivated, and had agreed. The Southern states would be

free at last to become masters of their own destiny, and he would be part of

it.

    If the North let them. Few of Jass's friends wanted war; they wanted to be

    left alone, to get on with their own business, and if that meant leaving

    the Union, so be it. But the North, that is, the federal government, that

    is, Lincoln, had sworn they would not, could not, leave. The Union would be

    preserved, no matter what.

    Well, some of them were going to leave-it was as certain as night follows

    day-and then Lincoln could either back down or go to war. From all he had

    heard, Jass did not believe that Lincoln would back down, and the idea of

    war between Americans was not new. Bloody war, civil war, had existed in

    Kansas for almost all of the decade. Settlers from the North were

    determined the territory should be admitted to the Union as a Free State,

    and others from the South had been as determined on an opposite outcome.

    Jass no longer cared if slavery was right or wrong for others; it was right

    for them, for the South. He had seen the figures for the plantation, and

    knew that the Jackson fortune would dwindle even further, might diminish

    entirely, without slaves, and this was true for most of his peers. It

    didn't matter to him that slaveholders were a minority of the Southern

    population: Slave owning was the Southern way, the basis of the Southern

    economy; it kept the few wealthy, so that prosperity would trickle down to

    the many. Without slavery, the South could not exist.

    Nor could he bear the thought that his own niggers, whom he believed he

    cared for and protected, should end up as homeless beggars in city slums,

    as he had seen in the North. He had no desire to increase the realm of the

    South; if the new states and territories wanted to be free of slavery, then

    let them join a free-state Union, which is what he believed Washington now

    represented.

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    For there was no real union between the North and South, and never had