| When the Union troops marched in to occupy
their
prize, they faced a desolate ruinWild grasses grew in the streets
and choked the gardens of windowless, shell-scarred, broken-roofed
housesThey also faced a decimated population that had become as
proud and arrogant as their Northern reputationOutsiders were no
longer welcome in CharlestonPeople repaired their roofs and
windows
as best they could and locked their doorsAmong themselves, they
restored the cherished habits of gaietyThey met for dancing in
looted drawing rooms where they toasted the South in water from
cracked
and mended cups"Starvation parties," they called their gatherings,
and laughedThe days of French champagne in crystal flutes might be
gone, but they were still CharlestoniansThey had lost their
possessions but they had almost two centuries of shared tradition and
styleNo one could take that from themThe War was over, but they
weren't defeatedThey would never be defeated, no matter what the
damn Yankees didNot so long as they stuck togetherAnd kept
everyone else out of their closed circleThe military occupation and
the outrages of Reconstruction tested their mettle, but they held
fast
One by one the other states of the Confederacy were readmitted to the
Union, their state governments restored to the state's populationBut
not South CarolinaAnd especially not cartier watch CharlestonMore than nine
years after the end of the War, armed soldiers patrolled the old
streets, enforcing curfewConstantly changing regulations covered
everything from the price of paper to the licensing of marriages and
funerals
Charleston became more and more derelict outwardly, but ever
stronger
in its determination to preserve the old ways of lifeThe Bachelors'
Cotillion was reborn, with a new generation to fill the gaps caused by
the carnage of Bull Run, Antietam, and ChancellorsvilleAfter their
working hours as clerks or laborers, former plantation owners took the
streetcars or walked to the outskirts of the city to rebuild the
two-mile oval of the Charleston Race Course and to plant the
blood-soaked churned mud of the land around it with grass seed
bought
with combined widow's mitesLittle by little, by symbols and by
inches, Charlestonians were regaining the essence of their beloved lost
worldBut there was no room in it for anyone who didn't belong
there
couldn't hide her amazement at the orders Scarlett gave her when she
was unlacing for bed the first night in the Butler house"Take the
green walking-out costume I wore this morning and give it a good
brushingThen take off every speck of trimming, including the gold
buttons, and sew on some plain black buttons instead
"Where I going to find any black buttons, Miss 2.55 chanel Scarlett?"
"Don't bother me with fool questions like thatButler's
maid-what's her name? CelieAnd wake me up tomorrow at five
o'clock
"Five o'clock?"
"Are you deaf? You heard meI want that green outfit
ready to put on when I get up Scarlett sank gratefully into the
feather mattress and down pillows on the big bedIt had been an
over-full, over-emotional dayMeeting Miss Eleanor, then shopping,
then that silly Confederate Home meeting, then Rhett appearing from
nowhere with the silver tea service Her hand stretched over to the
empty space beside herShe wanted him there, but perhaps it was
better to wait a few days, until she was really accepted in
Charleston
That miserable Ross! She wouldn't think about him or those horrible
things he'd said and doneMiss Eleanor had denied him the house,
and
she wouldn't have to see him, she hoped not ever againShe'd think
about something elseShe'd think about Miss Eleanor, who loved her
and who was going to help her get Rhett back, even if she didn't know
that's what she was doingThe Market, Miss Eleanor had said, was
the
place to meet everybody and hear all the newsSo to the Market she
would gotomorrowScarlett would have been happier if it wasn't
necessary to go so early, at six o'clockI have to
say this for Charleston, she thought sleepily, it's plenty busy, and I
like thatShe was only watch cartier replica halfway through a yawn when she fell asleep
The Market was the perfect place for Scarlett to begin the life of a
Charleston lady
The Market was an outward, visible distillation of Charleston's
essenceFrom the city's earliest days it had been the place where
Charlestonians bought their foodThe lady of the house-or, in rare
cases, the man-selected and paid for it, a maid or coachman received
it
and placed it in a basket hung over the armBefore the War the food
was sold by slaves who had transported it from their masters'
plantationsMany of the vendors were in the places they had been
before, only now they were free, and the baskets were carried by
servants who were paid for their service; like the vendors, many of
them were the same people, carrying the same baskets they had
before
What was important to Charleston was that the old ways hadn't
changed
Tradition was the bedrock of society, the birthright of Charleston's
people, the priceless inheritance that no carpetbagger or soldier could
stealIt was made manifest in the MarketOutsiders could shop
there; it was public property
But they found it frustratingSomehow they could never quite catch
the eye of the woman who was selling vegetables, the man selling
crabs
Black citizens were as proudly Charlestonian as white ones
When the foreigner left, the whole Market rang with louis vuitton duffle bag laughterThe
Market was for Charleston's people onlyScarlett hunched her
shoulders to lift her collar higher on her neckA cold finger of wind
got inside it despite her efforts, and she shivered violently
Her eyes felt full of cinders, and she was sure her boots must be lined
with leadHow many miles could there be in five city blocks?
She couldn't see a thingThe street lamps were only a bright circle
of mist within mist in the ghostly gray pre-dawn halflight
How can Miss Eleanor be so cursed cheery? Chattering away as if it
wasn't freezing cold and black as pitchThere was some light
ahead-way aheadScarlett stumbled towards itShe wished the
miserable wind would die downWhat was that? In the windIt was! It was coffeeMaybe she'd live after
all
Her steps matched MrsButler's in an eager, accelerated paceThe
Market was like a bazaar, an oasis of light and warmth, color and life
in the formless gray mistTorches blazed on brick pillars that
supported tall wide arches open to the surrounding streets,
illuminating the bright aprons and headscarves of smiling black women
and highlighting their wares, displayed in baskets of every size and
shape on long wooden tables painted greenIt was crowded with
people,
most of them moving from table to table, talking-to other shoppers or
to the vendors in a challenging, laughing ritual of haggling obviously
enjoyed by fake louis vuitton purses al |
| 