Brick sidewalks gave way to boardwalks, which gave way to dirt paths beside rutted streets. The gaslights quit with the business district. The overcast sky was a glowing ceiling through which neither stars nor moon penetrated.
After twenty minutes or so, Tazewell Watling came to a cluster of saloons and cribs, tinkling pianos, hoots, and braying laughter. "Please, sir.
Which is Chapeau Rouge?”
The soldier was too drunk for words. His finger slewed up and down the street before settling on a two-story frame house with drawn curtains and a demure red lantern in its parlor window. This house had known better days and loomed over its shabby neighbors like a disapproving aunt. Behind a picket fence, the front yard was neat; its rosebushes were pruned for winter. The negro on the porch was smoking a cigar. His dark suit looked scratchy. A pale scar divided the man's face from chin to forehead. "Boy,”
he growled, "you got no business here. Git!”
Taz set his bag down and massaged his cramped hand. He said, "Abraham Lincoln emancipated the negroes. Why don't you git?”
Belle Watling's bully, MacBeth, said, "I'm a 'Lanta nigger. Them 'mancipators don't scare me none.”
Tuesday after the battle of Fredricksburg, Chapeau Rouge was quiet.
Last Saturday, the telegraph had brought news of the great Confederate victory, so Sunday morning, Belle Watling's top Cyprian, Minette, had sought out the soldiers' widows who filled in when Belle expected an overflow crowd. The Chapeau Rouge was usually closed on the Sabbath, but the Federal losses at Fredricksburg had been so huge, their mighty army so thoroughly humbled, that Belle ran out of champagne by six Sunday evening, dispatched MacBeth twice to replenish the brandy, and a score of exuberant patriots were still waiting on her doorstep at eleven that night.
Monday, Belle's Cyprians had moped around the establishment, sore, weary, and hungover, but by Tuesday evening the house had recovered its equilibrium and Minette had almost been glad to welcome the provost officer they'd nicknamed "Captain Busy.”
The Chapeau Rouge was the most expensive sporting house in Atlanta.
Its callers were high-ranking Confederate officers, speculators, and profiteers.
It had been unexceptional in New Orleans's Vieux Carr? but was considered highfalutin in earthier Atlanta.
In its parlor, hand-tinted lithographs of Parisian street scenes hung on flocked red-and-green-striped wallpaper. The ormolu mantel clock was flanked by tall marble Venuses in coy poses. Belle's spittoons were stored in cupboards unless requested. Her "Frenchy" furniture encouraged tough men to sit straight with their hands in their laps. To these men, Belle's Cyprians were as exotic as egrets. At the slightest provocation, the girls would burst into giggles or swift incomprehensible Creole.
Rhett Butler owned a share in the Chapeau Rouge and kept an office upstairs. Would-be troublemakers departed quietly when MacBeth told them, "Sir, I reckon you best be goin' home now. Wouldn't want to fetch Captain Butler.”
Minette was a courtesan, and a shrewd one. To provide for her old age, Minette bought house lots in New Orleans' Garden District and she tithed to the Good Fathers for the future of her soul. When Madame Belle invited Minette to work at the Chapeau Rouge, Minette nearly turned her down because Madame Belle was decidedly not a courtesan.
Although Madame Belle was older than Minette, she was a child as only American women can be children — infuriating children! A courtesan understands the nature of the transaction; the American is likely to confuse it with love — a confusion from which, Minette believed, only her sound Creole advice had kept Belle Watling.
Tonight, Minette smiled her courtesan's smile and told Captain Busy how dapper he looked.
"Ah, Minny. Have you changed your hair? It seems much redder than it was. Did I hear Rhett is back in town?”
What questions this man asked! He'd sit in the parlor on a slow rainy afternoon and ask question after question. Minette once heard Eloise describing her first lover — a neighbor boy — while Captain Busy chuckled as she recounted the poor boy's fumblings. Captain Busy advised Hélène on constipation, suggesting remedies when everyone knew Hélène’s laudanum was the culprit! Once Captain Busy had asked Minette how she avoided pregnancy!
Captain Busy was extremely curious about Captain Butler: where he was, what he was doing, what he thought about this or that. How was Minette to know what Rhett Butler thought — and what business was it of Captain Busy's? When Minette complained about the meddlesome provost, Rhett was amused. "Edgar is still trying to solve the mystery of life, Minette. Let him stew.”
Edgar Puryear was a slender fellow, whom men remembered, after he had left the room, as shorter than he was. He had a bony long face, big ears, and a wide, expressive mouth; his fine eyelashes protected eyes as bright as a curious sparrow's.
Something about Captain Busy made ordinary Confederate soldiers want to knock him down, and when the liquor flowed on payday nights, his sergeant, Jack Johnson, accompanied him.
Tonight, the provost asked Minette for brandy. "Just a tot, dear Minny," putting his fingers two inches apart.
Power fascinated Edgar Allan Puryear. Rhett's father, Langston Butler, was powerful because he was rich and ruthless — rich because he was ruthless. Charlotte Fisher Ravanel was powerful because she was rich, and Andrew Ravanel was powerful because war rewards courage.
Edgar Puryear didn't understand Rhett Butler's power.
When young Rhett first arrived at Cathecarte Puryear's school, Edgar had gone upstairs to assess his father's new pupil. Rhett looked at Edgar, looked through him, and disregarded him in a single instant. Wait a minute, young Edgar wanted to protest. I am not merely what you see. I am more than that! But thereafter, Edgar only earned Rhett's half-amused smile.
When Edgar flattered Rhett, Rhett mocked his flattery. When Edgar bought an expensive foulard for Rhett, Rhett never wore it. One evening, Edgar spotted it around the neck of Miss Polly's negro doorman. The only time Edgar summoned up courage to explain himself, Rhett interrupted before he'd finished three sentences — "Not now, Edgar" — and left the room.
Rhett Butler was never cruel to Edgar — not as Henry Kershaw and Andrew Ravanel could be cruel — but Rhett's indifference was worse than cruelty.
Was that Rhett's secret? Might Rhett's indifference be his power? When Rhett Butler was expelled from West Point (and no Charlestonian would have been surprised had young Butler put a bullet in his head), Only Edgar Puryear had greeted him at the dock. "Damn, it's good to see you, Rhett. Been too long! Come along with me. Polly's got a new girl with the most amazing appetites...”
Rhett had smiled the half smile Edgar hated and said, "Not now, Edgar," and walked into town.
Coal scuttle in hand, the Chapeau Rouge's housemaid hesitated in the parlor doorway.
"Ah, come in, child.”
"Sorry, sir. I didn't know anyone — “
"No matter. No matter. Do your work. Afraid I'll bite you?”
"No, sir.”
"I'd never bite anyone as pretty as you.”
The girl blushed.
"Tell me, child, when is Captain Butler expected?”
"Don't know, sir.”
When she knelt to scoop coals into the stove, her dress stretched across her back and every knob on her long spine was visible. When Minette brought the captain's brandy, she snapped, "Lisa! You are not to come into the parlor in the evening!”
The startled housemaid tipped her scuttle and coal skittered underneath Captain Puryear's wing chair. He opened his knees so she could reach between them.
"Clumsy child," Minette hissed. "Leave them. You can pick up after the captain departs.”