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Authors: Alex Haley

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travel to England and finalize the purchase of the stallion Glencoe. There

was no real need for James to go to Kentucky, but he wanted to be part of

the excitement. It also put him closer to Washington.

    He didn't tell anyone, even Sally, of his intention; he was not even sure

    what he intended. He spent several pleasant days discussing horses in

    Kentucky, and was guest of honor at several parties given by horseracing

    men, for James was one of their most prominent number. Cap'n Jack attended

    him, and Ephraim had driven them there in a gig, since Sally was worried he

    might catch a chill if he rode horseback. When the day of departure came,

    Ephraim naturally headed for the Knoxville road.

"No," said James. "We are going to Washington."

    Cap'n Jack looked at him in surprise, but James would not explain. He had

    written a letter to Sally the previous night, telling of his plan to

    resolve, finally, his differences with Andrew. He wondered why he hadn't

    told her before, because when he left The Forks he had taken the

    correspondence with Andrew from its safe place and put the letters in his

    pocket.

They journeyed in silence. James did not know what he was

    MERGING 307

 

going to do. He knew he was going to do something.

    Cap'n Jack asked no questions. The Massa's business was the Massa's

    business, and he guessed, correctly, that James wanted to see Andrew. For

    himself, he was delighted that he might have the opportunity to see

    Alfred again.

    At dinners in the hostelries where they spent the nights, the talk of

    Andrew's achievements as president diminished as they got closer to

    Washington. Ordinary folk, the working people, revered him, but the

    Virginians of James's class disparaged the hick frontiersman and his

    arrogant ways. James put it down to simple jealousy. Virginians were used

    to being part of the ruling elite, and were Andrew's avowed enemies.

    Still, it lightened his heart. Andrew became less and less of a legend,

    more and more of a man, and it was the man James had to persuade, not the

    giant.

    He checked into a hotel in Alexandria, having been warned that

    accommodation in the village that was the capital was almost impossible

    to obtain, and sent a note to Andrew asking to be received. The reply was

    immediate and a generous affirmative.

    They traveled by ferry across the river, hired horses on the other side,

    and rode through the farmland to the White House. James was fascinated

    by the few extravagant buildings that stood among cow paddocks, beacons

    to a great future amid a sea of mud.

    The president's mansion was impressive enough from the outside, though

    smaller than James or Cap'n Jack had imagined, and looked a bit silly

    stuck here in this swampy wilderness. The inside was also shabbier than

    they had expected, dusty, giving a feeling of not being finished and

    lacking any sense of home, although Andrew had lived here for seven

    years. Rachel would have made the difference, James knew.

    Cap'n Jack was disappointed. There was no sign of Alfred. He guessed,

    again correctly, that Alfred would be with his Massa, and was again

    disappointed when James, on being ushered upstairs, told him to wait.

    Cap'n lack settled on a broken chair that had been badly repaired, and

    waited.

 

Andrew had been ill, and was sitting at a desk in his bedroom, Alfred

never far from his side. There was a small bowl of food

308 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

 

on the desk, mashed potato and milk, and some rice.

    He looked so old, gaunt, and wasted, James thought, but of course he was

    old, twenty years James's senior. He seemed to be sleeping, and a tiny

    dribble of spittle was running down his chin. The unruly hair was thin and

    white now, where once it had been a golden mane. James looked at Alfred,

    who shook his Massa lightly, and Andrew woke.

    The limpid blue eyes looked around, searching for a target, and settled on

    James.

This is it, James thought, the end of everything between us.

    This is it, Andrew thought, the end of a small, irrelevant business that

    should have been finished years ago.

    He greeted James warmly, and they mutually inquired after family, and then

    there was silence, and Andrew seemed to drift away somewhere-to a tomb in

    Nashville, James suspected.

Then Andrew rallied. "Well?"

    James put his case, and Andrew listened politely, attentively.

    Occasionally. Alfred came to him and with a handkerchief wiped the dribble

    from his Massa's chin.

    When James had finished, Andrew was silent again and stared at the papers

    on his desk. When he spoke, he looked helpless.

    "What would you have me do?" he said. "The Cherokee are under Georgia law.

    I cannot interfere with the workings of a sovereign state."

    You are the president, James wanted to shout at him. You have done so much,

    you can do anything. They call you king!

"You have in Florida," James insisted.

    "That is different. Osceola declared war on us. I had no choice but to

    act."

    James knew logic would have no effect. "Do not make them go," he said

    softly. "Do not send them to their deaths."

    I I I cannot make them go or stay, " Andrew said. " It is not for me to

    choose. They have elected to stay, and therefore they must abide by Georgia

    law. All I can do is offer them a possible alternative."

    " It is an alternative that will lead to their destruction!" James tried

    hard, tried his best."

    " It is the only hope they have." Andrew hardly appeared to have heard him.

    MERGING 309

 

    "It is in your power to ensure that the treaties are enforced," James

    insisted.

Andrew smiled.

    "In the West, on federal land, I can protect them. In Georgia, I cannot.

    We are not at war with Georgia. I cannot send in the army," he said. "I

    cannot protect them from what they have chosen to be."

    "I beg you to end this thing," James said. "You know what must happen to

    them if they stay, and what will happen to them if they go. "

    Andrew nodded gently, and James thought he saw a tear in the old man's

    eye. It is just age, he thought, like the spittle on his chin.

    "I do what I can to save them," Andrew said. "And will always do what I

    can to protect them, but only what I can, under the law."

    James knew he was wasting his time, had always known he would be, but

    wanted it over.

"I could publish the letters," he said.

Andrew nodded again.

    "Yes, you could. But I don't see the point of it. An old correspondence

    about an issue that died long ago, It will change nothing, except to cast

    a small slur on my character-"

He laughed and coughed at the same time.

    "Which character is already so vilely slandered, in so many ways, by

    things so much more vile."

He looked at James, and didn't appear to be so old.

    "And cast a very large slur on your character, which is not used to

    infamy."

    He was changing, before James's eyes. He wasn't slouching anymore, and

    the eyes were no longer soft, like the sea, but bright and hard, like

    sapphires.

    "In a year I will be gone from here, and soon forgotten," he said. "I am

    already much too old. But you are still a young man. Why needlessly

    besmirch what you have so valiantly achieved?"

A palpable energy began to fill the room.

"Do you have them with you?" Andrew asked.

James nodded. They were in his pocket. He wondered why.

310 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

 

Why did I bring them with me? Why didn't I leave them at the hotel, or

locked in the box at home?

"Give them to me" was all Andrew said.

    James took the letters from his pocket and handed them over without demur.

    Perhaps this is what I have wanted all along, he thought. The burden of

    responsibility is not mine anymore. I am free, at last, of this terrible

    guilt.

    And all Andrew had to do was ask. All he had ever had to do was ask.

    Andrew didn't even look at the letters, knowing they would all be there. He

    put them in a drawer and locked it.

    Neither of them spoke for a while, and when Andrew did, it was softly,

    sadly, with no trace of anger but an aching sense of loss.

    "Have you so misunderstood me all these years?" he said, and James knew it

    was not a question.

    "Do you think it nourishes me to see my children so piteously downcast? Do

    you think I do not weep for them? Do you think I have not fallen on my

    knees and begged almighty God to take this burden from me?"

    He fell silent. He turned away from James, and when he spoke again, he

    seemed to be struggling to control his feelings.

    "The earth was not made for savage beasts to roam upon at will." His voice

    trembled with emotion. "Those who stand in the way of honest industry must

    be swept aside. It is the order of Divine Providence, and I accept it with

    humility."

    Perhaps he was crying. He put one hand to his eyes as if to shield his

    grief from sight and waved the other at the man who had once been his

    friend, dismissing him. James looked at Alfred, who was still attending his

    Massa, and left the room.

 

As they walked away from the White House, Cap'n Jack glanced back and

thought he saw Alfred at an upstairs window, but it was only a shadow of

approaching night.

    James hardly spoke for several days, but the farther they traveled from

    Washington and the closer they got to home, his spirits obviously

    lightened. Cap'n Jack thought he had cast aside some terrible burden. As

    they drove into Florence, on a crisp bright winter day, James looked out of

    the window at the bustling town, and chuckled.

    MERGING 311

 

    "Massa?" was all Cap'n Jack said, leaving open the possibility of

    response.

    "I think we will bring Glencoe here," James said, eyes bright with some

    new purpose. "I think we will bring all the horses here and make The

    Forks of Cypress the finest stable in America."

 

    37

 

There was one thing left to do, one small piece of unfinished business to

attend to before the new life could begin.

    On Christmas Day, James summoned Cap'n Jack to his study.

    James was at his desk, filling out a paper. He continued to write while

    Cap'n Jack waited, and then looked at his slave.

    "I thank you for your many years of loyalty," he said. "No one could have

    served me better."

    A curious anticipation tingled in Cap'n Jack. "Thank you, Massa," he said

    calmly.

    James had a little speech prepared. "When you first came to me, I did not

    hold with slavery, but it was the custom of the land. I promised you then

    that if you worked for me, willingly and well, I would give you your

    freedom one day."

    Anticipation gave way to excitement. Cap'n Jack knew his hand was

    shaking, his stomach churning.

James held out the paper.

    "Here is that freedom now," he said. "A little later than it should have

    been, but not too late, I trust."

    Desperate emotions punched at Cap'n Jack's heart. Here it was at last,

    the dearest gift anyone could give him, the thing he had longed for all

    of his days, the thing any slave might easily have sold his soul for.

"No, thank you, Massa," he said.

    James closed his eyes. Not this, he pleaded, not now, the sin is too old,

    it has been atoned for a million times.

312 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN

 

"Don't do this to me," he said.

    Cap'n Jack could not do anything else. The vengeance he had nurtured for

    so long had become part of him, like the blood in his veins. He could

    hear Annie's screams in his ears as she was being dragged away that day.

    He could feel the uncontrollable anger, the inconsolable grief, the

    terrible fury he had known that day. He wanted to hurt the man he held

    responsible, and knew that he could. He was not his own man now. The

    demon had him.

    "You broke your promise. You let Annie be sold away," he said.

"I wasn't here, it wasn't me," James's voice was a whisper.

"You the Massa," Cap'n Jack said.

"I needed you!"

    Cap'n Jack could hardly hear. "What good freedom to me now? I's too old.

    Where c'n I go? What c'n I do? My life's here, Easter's here, all that's

    left of Annie."

    "But you can stay here!" James lost his temper and yelled at the

    impassive man. "Free!"

    Cap'n Jack stared at him. "Yes, Massa, I will stay," he said. "And every

    time you see me, every time you look at me, you will remember what you

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