Chap. 45. You naughty, naughty men! my novel The Boutique Robillard, my GWTW fanfiction

Tuesday, July 6, 1876, 8:45 p.m., Washington

The car turned right onto E Street. If it looked the same as Pennsylvania Avenue with its hodgepodge of one- and two-story federal-style buildings with ground-floor businesses, Scarlett sensed a change in atmosphere.

It was the noise that seized her first. Of course, not the usual one of the nervous clattering of the carriages' horses’ hooves on the dirt of the road, which intermingled with the onomatopoeia of their drivers whistling in the air to order them to stop the carts and dump their passengers; but the hubbub caused by the pedestrians occupying the sidewalks, spreading in waves laughter and fat voices.

For a moment, Scarlett wondered if she had been magically transported back to Atlanta - to the worst neighborhood. Men parked against the front of the saloons were shouting at each other, some of them holding their stomachs for emphasizing the mockery. Other echoes of voices went up, those more gregarious promising quarrels and fights. Some single men smoked quietly, leaning against the front of the shops, while others staggered without any ambiguity about their alcoholic condition. Younger men with a disengaged look were playing the pretty heart by frankly embracing the waist of their girlfriends.

From her seat, the great lady of the South did not fail to detail the outfits of those. Pfff..! Dressed in garish colors, worthy of belonging to the staff of Belle Watling... In passing, she discreetly addressed a glance in the corner to Rhett.

He seemed preoccupied.

She returned to her curious contemplation of this Washingtonian "fauna".   

Just as Scarlett wondered if their driver had the wrong address, the coachman ordered his horses to stop.

Washington Rum Row circa 1880 view of E Street NW between 13th and 14th Streets (source Streets of Washington.com -

In front of them was a large Victorian building of four floors, with its royal blue windows contrasting with the freshly painted white façade. On the second floor, large blue letters simply announced: The Imperial. (*1)

A doorman dressed in an impeccable blue uniform with gold buttons politely greeted a few gentlemen and ladies in evening gowns coming out of the hotel.

Adjacent to this elegant establishment, a curious, wide building ended in a red arched cornice surrounded by three imposing statues. The central eagle flew over the sign: National Theater. On the second floor, ten narrow bay windows clad in crimson puffy blinds overhung the central cast iron sign. The first floor was lined with wide-open glass doors that enticed customers to enter this festive world.

Rhett helped Scarlett to descend, lifting with an expert hand the train of her skirt so that it did not touch the ground. Scarlett judged it prudent to hang it a notch higher than the trimmings envisaged for this purpose. No question that it would be polluted by the dust, cigarette butts, and other suspicious waste spread on the sidewalk.

"Are you sure this is a performance venue? "Miller & Jones Billiards" is even more apparent on the facade than that of the theater's name. I have no desire for you to introduce me to your gambling games!"

Rhett smiled, "The pool rooms occupy the second floor of the front. It is not going to impress you, I am afraid, but this is where America's greatest competitions are played." (*1)

They stood just outside the entrance to The Imperial. Curious, Scarlett noticed the profusion of marble on the floor, and the richly carved dark furniture lit by crystal chandeliers.

Washington, The Imperial Hotel, advertising of 1870s 1880s.

 That's when the hotel bellboy noticed them. He ceremoniously approached from three feet away and withdrew his blue felt tambourine hat: "My respects, Mr. Butler! The Imperial Hotel is honored to welcome you." Then, without Rhett's reaction, he continued, mimicking the revelation of a secret, his mouth half-hidden by his hand: "Since you taught me your famous card trick, I've managed to win quite a few poker games."

Rhett laughed and patted his shoulder in a friendly manner. "Well done, Tom! But you shouldn't admit it to a brigand like me, because I'd be able to claim a share of your earnings."

The two men exchanged a complicit laugh, to the great amazement of Scarlett.

"Mr. Butler, where is your luggage so I can get it up to your favorite suite?"

Not looking at his companion, Rhett cleared his throat, "No, I'm not staying here this time, Tom. Madam and I are going to the theater."

The said Tom bowed to the beautiful lady who was looking at him with suspicion: "Welcome, Madam. I wish you a very good show."

With that, the couple made their way to the National Theater, mimicking the crowd that was pouring in.

ooooOOoooo

The hall took up the entire width of the building. Scarlett looked at the whimsical decorations with round eyes. It was a far cry from the antebellum classicism of the Atlanta theater! The crimson drapery walls were decorated with posters from previous plays.

Other walls’ panels were filled with daguerreotypes of actors and actresses, dedicated to the National Theater to immortalize their time in this renowned institution. Sculptures, of questionable taste and approximate realization, supposed to give an artistic guarantee to the place, had above all the merit of adding even more gilding, colors and fantasy. The beveled mirrors covering the height of the ceiling enlarged the space and reflected in multiplication the colorful party clothes worn by the spectators. So much so that they naturally became part of the decor.

"Everything looks brand new! But why is an entire wall dedicated to Abraham Lincoln? His solemn presence stands out in this realm of fun!"

True to form, Rhett was able to provide the answer to this riddle: "The building was just rebuilt less than four years ago for the back part and the auditorium, and restored for the area where we are standing. This venerable institution has suffered three fires since its creation. As for the equally venerable Lincoln, he was a regular visitor. He was a great friend of the former owner. In fact, on the night of his assassination, he, his wife, and his son were supposed to attend a play here. But Mrs. Lincoln preferred to see Our American Cousin at the Ford Theater, unlike their son who learned the news - which you know - in this very lobby." (*1)

The anecdote surprised Scarlett. Life is all about disturbing coincidences, she thought.

Then she turned her attention back to the spectators surrounding her in the line jammed in front of the cashier. Another line was getting thinner as the employee checked the pre-purchased tickets.

Reassured, she noted that the look of the spectators was nothing like that of the vulgar characters clustered in front of the saloons, ten yards away. The women looked like members of Washington's upper crust, wearing feathered hats and formal dresses. The men's suits were well dressed. The audience was young like her. The matrons of Washington were not out tonight. Good, because if I am to believe Taisy's comments on this scandalous play, the old magpies might die of apoplexy!

What was obvious was the excitement that made men and women go wild as we got closer to the start of the session. Giggles, whispered words in the ear and swaying from one foot to the other served to fill the anticipation of seeing in real life what was being talked about under the cloak with a shiver of forbidden.

To be completely honest with herself, Scarlett had to admit that her cheerfulness had dulled somewhat.  How long had she felt this weight in her chest, which was getting heavier by the minute? It wasn't since they had met the doorman at the Imperial Hotel, was it?

She decided to see more clearly and took an innocent air to question him: "The hotel next to the theater seemed luxurious to me, even more so than Willard's. Why didn't we stay at the Imperial? From what I hear, you have a habit there."

Rhett exhaled a puff of his cigar. "Certainly, I have no doubt that it would be to your taste. The upstairs lounges dedicated to the ladies - which, incidentally, have their own outside entrance..."

Scarlett cut him off sharply, "To avoid running into infamous rascals like you!"

He could hardly suppress a teasing pout, ready to acquiesce to this well-felt criticism, but preferred to opt for the impersonal description of the hotel, which should not open further hostilities - at least he hoped so.

"So I was saying that these parlors were decorated to please the ladies. They are upholstered in velvet and the country green wallpaper panels are edged with gold moldings, as are the ceiling borders, for that matter. Gold everywhere!"(*1) He added confidentially, not hiding his snide look, "Everything to please you, for sure!"

 Scarlett swallowed. She preferred not to react to his mocking hint. He would not be able to spoil tonight’s fun. But this constant reminder of her particular tastes in decoration was distilling a bitter taste in her mouth.

Caught up in his momentum, he continued: "The Imperial Hotel is also famous for its refreshment bar, which is so well-stocked. There is a raw oyster bar and another one decorated with the tastiest mignardises. And, in supreme sophistication, a bronze gong placed on this same bar is directly connected to the National Theater. So when the performance is about to begin, the gong alerts those who were relaxing there to get to the theater in time." (*1)

Scarlett summarized: "This hotel is definitely attractive. How ingenious to have thought of this gong!"

"The owner has finely seized the opportunity of his adjacency to the National Theater. His clientele is diverse. There are lovers of classical plays who have come especially to Washington, gamblers attracted by the famous billiard room, as well as many actors, actresses, burlesque queens, and chorus girls who have come from New York to play in the Capital, all of whom are used to enjoying a certain comfort."

Was it an impression or had his speech rate slowed down on the last sentence? As if he already regretted the words he was saying...

But of course! Everything was becoming clearer! She suddenly felt like stamping her feet with rage, there in that queue... "Mr. Rhett's usual suite", the complicity with the bellboy, a visible sign of frequent visits, and "the actresses, burlesque queens, and chorus girls".... Whoops daisies! The Imperial Hotel is his hunting ground!

Her breathing accelerated under the effect of this realization. The strings of her corset were penetrating her ribs.

She made an effort to calm herself: Nothing scandalizes me anymore from such a predator. Besides, never mind all the affairs he had here when he told me he had to go to Washington "to maintain his political connections".... That is all in the past. I confirmed it to him again this morning. He is free to get involved with these hussies.

But two images, the one of her half-naked against him the day before, added to their shocking embrace on top of the Capitol, made her grind her teeth. Because with each time, she had been with two fingers to give up herself to him. It was necessary all the more, to find an ounce of reason, to press where it hurt: "These details end up convincing me that booking in this hotel would have suited me. Unless there is a reason why you have forbidden me to frequent it?"

Her suave tone did not go unnoticed, but he immediately picked up the gauntlet: "Do you know what they call that stretch of buildings between the 13th and 14^th streets? The Rum Row!  I do not need to tell you that it was not just named for its row of saloons competing with each other. The many fights between drunks and soldiers on leave eager to fight are famous. Add to the din the courteous visit of the police to the illegal gambling dens hidden at the back of that innocuous E Street - which I too sometimes frequent, without surprising you! (*1) Now you can see why I wanted to keep the sweet, innocent Grande Dame of Atlanta out of this neighborhood of perdition."

His satisfied smile, all teeth out, betrayed him: he was jubilant to have won the battle. Indeed, the missed opportunity to have spent a night at the Imperial Hotel seemed less attractive to the young woman of a well-known family.

Their exchanges had made them less attentive to what was going on around them. The second line of ticket-holding spectators had thinned out, but theirs, which until then had been lined up patiently in the direction of the Cashier's Office, became agitated on all sides. The tone was rising. Some of the men who, until a few minutes ago, had been the quintessential gentleman, became aggressive towards the reception staff, who were powerless to satisfy them. "This is a scandal. We spent a fortune to come. And you dare to tell us that there is not a single seat left?"

Hearing the growing commotion, an employee, looking like a bodyguard with a thick build, came out of nowhere and addressed the crowd of disgruntled patrons: "The National Theater is sorry that we cannot accept any more patrons, given the capacity of our auditorium. The Black Crook is a great success, and requests for reservations by mail are pouring in. That's why only a small portion of seats could be reserved tonight for direct ticket purchases - as well as in the days to come. We advise you to try your luck another time. The management of the National Theater thanks you for your visit and looks forward to seeing you again sometime in the future."

This announcement had the effect of a tub of cold water thrown in the face of those who were about to celebrate. The young women lost their radiant faces and tried, as best they could, to calm the revolt of their companions. Then, little by little, the disappointed couples left the National Theater.

Scarlett remained amazed. She was already looking forward to giving Taisy an exhaustive account of the dancers' daring outfits!

Nevertheless, she decided not to show her disappointment to Rhett. He would have been too happy to repeat that he was right to be reluctant to come and that they would have been better off going dancing.

She felt his gaze settle on her and probe her, as he used to do until she felt transparent.

Then he crushed his cigar in an ashtray and approached the bodyguard.

Scarlett took the opportunity to walk away and take a closer look at the daguerreotypes of the celebrities who had frequented the National Theater. Perhaps she would recognize the name of one of the artists who had played in Atlanta?

The Black Crook, posters and actors

From her vantage point, she wondered why Rhett was whispering to the employee. He listened carefully, nodded, and disappeared behind a curtained door.

She did not have time to return to him to ask what this exchange had been about, because she heard a resounding, "Rhett Butler himself! My friend!"

Scarlett saw a small, paunchy man with sparse hair slicked back walking toward him. His arms opened wide and soon grabbed Rhett's shoulders. Both multiplied the virile and sonorous embraces.

"How nice to see you again!"

The man's mustache twitched on his lips, which contorted until his jaws dropped. "Just last week I was telling some young players about the sleight of hand with which you managed to knock out those three pretentious greenhorns from Chicago."

"What a game! They came in full of themselves, certain to rake in the little amateurs we were both playing. I let them gain confidence by conceding a few hands. When they were mature, that's when I pulled out my royal flush and won the bet. When they left, they went next door to the Shoomaker and Hertzog Saloon (*1) to drown their sorrows, and were barely left with enough money for the train home to Illinois."

The two men laughed together at this memory.

"I missed you, my good friend. How long has it been since we saw each other? At least three years, it seems to me. In fact, Clementina's first move when she arrived with the troupe was to inquire if you were in town because we hadn't heard from you. She complained that she was bored to death in the Capital when you weren't there to entertain us. Ah, women! Whether they're from our homeland, France or Italy, you always have the same effect on them, you old pirate!" He winked at him as he patted his shoulder, "I'll warn her before she goes on stage in the first act."

Clementina? Scarlett had not missed a word of their conversation. Who the heck was this woman who was "bored to death" without her former husband?

She saw Rhett raise his index finger in the direction of his friend. He cleared his throat with a slight nod, a sign of his discomfort.

He looked for her. So, with her head held high, she joined the two men.

He ostensibly took a step to the side so that his interlocutor would realize that he was not alone.

"Um... It's my pleasure to introduce you to Mrs. Scarlett O'Hara Butler!"

The man turned around and discovered Scarlett, immediately wrapped in Rhett's possessive arm.

My God! He looks like he has been struck by lightning!  She offered him her most delicious dimpled smile that she only gave to her most interesting prey.

"Mrs. Scarlett Butler? Oh, Mrs. Butler... Scarlett..." Antonio rolled the "r" in Scarlett on his tongue, making her first name sing with Italian intonations, as if it were familiar to him.

Why had Rhett added her former married name to her maiden name to introduce her when there was no longer any need here to preserve propriety? Because this gentleman did not know about the divorce? A drop of suspicion made her wonder if it was not a signal for the individual not to commit a language blunder - About this Clementina?

Antonio's attitude was surprising. Instead of the radiant face that all men had when they meet her, Antonio seemed embarrassed, or confused, or uncomfortable - Scarlett struggled to find the right word.

However it was, he quickly recovered. The Latin man brazenly displayed his admiration for this beautiful woman, eating her figure with his eyes from head to toe before bowing - or rather bending in half - before her: "Antonio Pagani, owner of the National Theater. Madam, please accept my respects. It is a great honor for me to meet you. Rhett had once described to me the magnificence of Mrs. Butler. The picture he painted of her is a pale reflection of the reality."

Scarlett was used to the fiery praise of men. This one flattered her even more because it was said in the presence of her former husband. Especially, this sentence assumed that Rhett had boasted of having a beautiful wife, while he said nothing of the sort in front of her during the last years of their marriage. Pfff... These praises for an absent wife were uttered by this vain man only by pure swaggering to boast near the other males, she deduced.  

Out of the corner of her eye, she intercepted his insistent gaze on her, but she chose to focus on the owner of the National Theater. It was easy for her to play it modest by fluttering her eyelashes before thanking him almost timidly.

The Italian continued, "You are doing the National Theater an immense privilege to visit us during your stay in our Capital. I am sure you will enjoy The Black Crook."

Rhett interjected, "That's the problem, Antonio. We could not get seats."

The administrator of the establishment absently ran his fingers over his hair, which was so black that one wondered if it was not dyed to hide some alteration of time:

"Yep! The play is once again a huge success, even more than the three times you've seen it performed here. Remember the cheers at the end?"

Then, speaking directly to Scarlett, "Consider this: when it premiered in 1866, it ran on Broadway for 475 performances. (*3) By the way, Rhett, you were at the opening night at Niblo's, weren't you? And since its revival, with some adaptations, in 1872, the theaters have been packed, from San Francisco to here at home. I would be able to sell out for the next two weeks in my 2,000-seat theater, but that would be too frustrating for passersby. That's why I opened the direct box office for only a few seats.  My secretary is inundated with letters begging for their reservations to be accepted on the day. Some have even managed to add a little... bonus along the way, which, I'm horrified to say, would look a little like bribery."

Rhett's laughter echoed in the huge, deserted room. "And it is not to your displeasure, old brigand..."

The two playmates exchanged a knowing smile.

"Of course, you are my guests, and you will have the place of honor: my assistant had reserved two places for his brother and his wife. Well, I'll beg him to have them back tomorrow night."

Scarlett had a polite reflex: "No, do not do that. We do not want to inconvenience this couple in any way."

The first bell was heard, signaling the imminent opening of the stage curtain.

"Mama Mia! An embarrassment, the presence of my great friend, and even more of the most captivating Bellissima Giovane Donna that Heaven allowed me to meet? (Beautiful young lady.) You will be, Madam, the jewel of the Black Crook tonight, relegating the First Ballerina, Miss Marietta Bonfanti, to a secondary role. (*2) Hurry up, both of you, before the third bell rings. I'm off to free up your two seats right now. We'll meet backstage at the end of the last act. Have fun, my friends!"

After a final hug to Rhett, he hurried to the back of the room.

Rhett's eyes sparkled as he noticed Scarlett's face. "Happy?"

She felt like slapping the satisfied pout on his plump lips. Once again, his poker nerve had worked wonders. But she had new proof of his duplicity: he had lied to her again: not only did he know about the hit play, but he had seen it, here at the National Theater!

The small insidious voice of the suspicion, so familiar concerning him, blew to her internally: one does not come in this place not accompanied. Three times more! With which woman did you expose yourself? Could it be with that Clementina? Three years... While you were married!  No! I will not be tormented by your past betrayals! It is not going to ruin the evening for me! The past is the past!

Instead, she accepted the arm he presented to her and they walked briskly to join the lucky ones with the precious admission ticket.

ooooOOoooo

It took her breath away: the auditorium was grandiose. The ceiling height must have been more than three stories high. Gold drapes obscured the stage, whose dimensions were so gigantic that Scarlett wondered what the point of such a large playing area was. The three bays of crimson velvet seats were almost all occupied, as were the boxes in the two upper side galleries.

Scarlett’s appearance looked sensational on her travelling partner’s arm, especially since they had to cross the center aisle to get to the front row.

She was not the only focus of interest. Some young women, thinking they were safe behind their fans, dared to cast discreet glances at the handsome man on her arm. He is swaggering, proud as a peacock! I have to admit that he looks good in his evening suit which emphasizes his broad shoulders - and hides his few extra kilos around the waist, she added in revenge that he was always so successful with women.

By reflex, she accepted the possessive hold of her arm tight against his chest.

Duncan's talent is at work once again: my dress is a big hit with the male audience, judging by the heads that turn.... Or is it for me? - She straightened her haughty bearing a little more. How nice it is to be admired. I shall never grow tired of it....

Antonio had kept his promise: two free seats in the middle of the first row of the huge auditorium were waiting for them. It was the privileged place, so close that it would be easy to guess the mimics of the interpreters. Between them and the stage, a large pit was occupied by the orchestra. The musicians were checking their scores. Some were testing the tuning of their instruments.

We really have a front-row seat! When Taisy will know this...

There was no doubt that the men in their row belonged, by their bearing, to Washington's upper crust. Scarlett noted that the women were young. The Black Crook was the perfect subterfuge to indulge in slumming on the pretext of German melodrama.

Their neighbor sitting next to Rhett was a different sort, fancier with his pants in big black and yellow colored stripes matching his ruffled shirt. He stood up as they arrived, "My cousin warned me to reserve the prime seat for the King of East Coast Poker and the most beautiful lady of the city." He bowed exaggeratedly, his greeting more in keeping with that of an actor on the stage than that of a gentleman presenting himself to a great Southern Lady.  "My respects, Madam! Giovanni Pagani, Head Costume Designer of the National Theater, at your service!"

He and Rhett then exchanged a friendly hug, without either of them commenting on their reunion.

 Scarlett was pleased to make the acquaintance of this jovial man. "I am so looking forward to admiring the costumes, which I have been told are enchanting!"

Rhett was quick to proudly point out to Giovanni, "Scarlett is a leading expert on the subject as she owns the most prestigious and creative fashion store in Georgia!"

The clothing professional detailed the Vayton Ready-to-Wear model hungrily. "I don't doubt it. Your dress is sumptuous. That's why it's so fitting for such a flamboyant young lady! My request will seem quite offhand, but I'll die of curiosity if you don't tell me - under the seal of secrecy, of course - the name of the designer of this masterpiece." 

Much to Rhett's chagrin that she was once again glorifying the man he reviled, Scarlett proudly revealed, "His name is Duncan Vayton."

"Duncan Vayton, the artist of genius? The precursor of French Haute Couture? But..." - turning briefly to Rhett - "You're from Atlanta, aren't you? Could it be? Madame Scarlett O'Hara! So it is you? The one who set fire to the most revolutionary fashion show in recent years? You're Thunder of Georgia! Madam, please allow me to kneel - symbolically - before the muse of Duncan Fashion and her celebrated artist!"

Scarlett had great difficulty not making her laughter tinkle in cascade in front of the euphoria of the costume designer. Her response to the compliment was an effusive dimpled expression and a modest thank you. Their neighbors in the row wondered why the head costume designer of the theater had turned into a passionate admirer. Was he talking to a famous tragedian? Then they turned their attention back to the stage - still empty.

The Italian finally resumed his posture of affable and composed host and explained to her that his contribution as the costume designer was insignificant for the staging of The Black Crook: "the producers had the most luxurious stage clothes sewn in Paris at Monsieur Philippe's, made of silk, satin, pearls and feathers of exotic birds. (*4) In the dressing rooms, their own costumers are "on the ball" to dress in a few seconds the most fitted outfits,-" - he stopped, looked at Rhett with a knowing look - "or rather undressed - dancers. Three seamstresses are ready, needles and thread in hand, to repair the slightest last-minute snag. It's an orchestration beyond measure. You'll see it later when I take you on a tour of the backstage area during the intermission."

He apologized to them, "I need to check one more thing. See you soon." And he left them alone. 

Around them, the seats were almost all occupied. The last stragglers who had been enjoying the buffet at the Imperial Hotel bar had run after hearing the recall gong.

There were whispers on all sides. The little laughs were more and more difficult to repress, so much the excitement was rising.

Rhett had recovered from his annoyance at hearing his rival's overrated qualities touted for the umpteenth time. In a conspiratorial tone, he leaned toward her: "Before the curtain rises, I must warn you that the demonic Zamiel's pitchforks may fall on you, my delicious superstitious. For a deluge of ashes, thwarted loves and deaths has been lurking around this musical opera buffa since its inception."  

Scarlett raised an eyebrow, suspicious of the tortuous confidences of her neighbor. More embarrassing to her than the wrath of Hell was the contact with the hairs of his whiskers brushing against her cheek. A tingling sensation was beginning to radiate down her back to her arms, making them look - she was sure - like the skin of the gallinaceous in Tara's chicken coop.  

"The story begins with fire in 1866, and ends with fire. First, if a fire had not destroyed the venue where a troupe of dancers from Paris was to perform forcing them to be extras in a play at Niblo's, the Black Crook would have remained a dismal drama without scope. Then it all ended, in that same New York theater, in the flames of hell - appropriate in this case. Only a few months after it was revived there in 1872, it was consumed in a bonfire!  As for the beautiful women who unleashed passions on stage, the one who immortalized your and Taisy Bennett's rallying song, poor Millie Cavendish, died four months after the Première. The same tragic fate for the wife of the playwright for whom he had written the play. So much so that he, in despair, threw himself off a train just two years ago."

When Scarlett did not seem impressed with his apocalyptic tale, he used the last card that could make Tara's little girl believe in damnation:

"Since the evil spell that has befallen the play does not affect your stony little heart, perhaps Solange Robillard's granddaughter will prefer to save her soul by forgoing seeing this decadent show, following the precepts of the Puritan priest who warned in the New York Herald - and I quote him roughly: "Let all husbands and parents and guardians who value the morals of their wives, their daughters, and their wards, bear a watchful eye on their charges, and keep them from out the walls of Niblo's Garden during the reign of the Black Crook.”” (*4)

"Thus, you are cursed and doomed like all the sinners who attended this deliquescent burlesque, threatened to suffer the fate of the white dove. Even if your angelic air is questionable."

While maintaining the facade smile of a lady, Scarlett tapped his fingers wickedly with her fan. This triggered an outraged and amused "Outch!”

"Fiddle-dee-dee! Do not get lost in nonsense. And take advantage of these last few minutes to summarize the plot for me, because Taisy was quite incapable of doing so."

"Your friend has good sense because this story of the devil, out of the Faustian hallucination of Barras, has been qualified by all the worldly chroniclers as rubbish. If thousands of people flock to it, it is for the sulfurous amalgam of burlesque, mechanical sets, lavish costumes, and above all, fresh flesh." He moistened knowingly his greedy lips to provoke the incensed air of his neighbor.

"But, to satisfy your curiosity, here are the main lines. The action takes place in medieval Germany to suit the gothic fashion. As in real life - and yours truly can attest to this - the whole problem comes from a woman." He had to stop because Scarlett renewed her punishment of the fan blow, more delicately though.

His whiskers curling in amusement, he continued:

"Let's ignore the author's nonsense. I prefer to tell you the story in my way, the theme of which, I have no doubt, is familiar to you: it is a love triangle between a manipulative Count, and a penniless fiancé - on this point, however, I will see a small difference with reality. Anyway, they are both in love with a young girl from the countryside, Amina. Count Wolfenstein uses his feudal right due to his rank and seizes the girl. At the same time, he throws his lover, the foolish Rudolph, - I mean the virtuous artist, into a dungeon. The Black Crook Hertzog, aided by the Devil, frees him and reveals to him that a golden treasure is hidden in the forest and that his wealth will help him to free his fiancée from the clutches of the powerful Count. But, as in life, there is always something behind the most tempting proposals: the swindler, a master of black magic, has made a pact with the devil Zamiel who will guarantee him immortality in exchange for a fresh soul every year, in this case, the inconsistent boy. He decides to corrupt the perfect Rudolph by making him commit the sins of greed and revenge. Against all likelihood, the latter saves a dove threatened by a snake. It turns out that it is Stalacta, the queen of the Golden Realm. To thank him, she takes him to the land of fairies and reunites the lovers after the Count is killed and the Black Crook threw into hell. The plot officially ends there. But... if I were the writer, I would change the ending, which is immeasurably bland, and do justice to the clever Count, Black Crook, and Zamiel."

Lowering his whispered story even further, as conversations were becoming more scarce in the now packed auditorium, he asked her: "Don't you think that the beautiful Amina will be bored to death with this Rudolph? You, with your 'passion for life' extolled eons ago by a knight in sad armor, would find more seduction in one of the three 'villains' so distracting."

She fixed her emerald eyes in his: "Of which you incarnate, to be mistaken, the three characters at the same time: the lecherous count, the swindler, and the devil. It is understandable that you liked this play. But I am not interested in your "choice". The swindler is hunchbacked and ugly according to the poster, and the count is cruel. Obviously, Rudolph has more beautiful attractions."

His greedy lips brushed her cheek: "Hm... And what do you think of the Devil? As far as I am concerned, you will find that this play has other attractions to seduce me..."

“Shushes!" and other imperative "Silence!" emanating from the four corners of the room finally got the better of the ambient buzz. Giovanni quietly returned to his seat.

The third bell rang, immediately followed by the curtain rising.

oooOOooo

With perfect timing, the music accompanied the appearance of the first set. Applause rewarded the successful recreation of a rural landscape. On gigantic painted wooden panels, the German Black Forest had been transplanted to Washington. The depth of field was respected by an effect of superimpositions, so that the castle with its threatening towers was enthroned on the top of the mountain, overshadowing the village on its flank.

To the accelerated rhythm of the piano notes, graceful ballerinas took possession of the valley, their ample pink crepe tutus twirling in the air to end up surrounding the surprisingly small and agile First Ballerina.

Whispers were heard, "It's Marietta Bonfanti, the new diva from New York!" (*3)

Maria Bonfanti, in The Black Crook -

At first glance, it looked like a classical ballet troupe. At the rate of their circumnavigation, they were soon surrounded by about thirty pretty girls dressed as peasants, wearing flowers in their hair, yellow shirts as stamens and above all, as a skirt, sparse petals blooming in corollas around their waists.

Shocked "Oh!" from women came from all corners of the auditorium, which they quickly hid behind their fans. The outraged onomatopoeia blurred the folk-sounding music sung by the men in the background. A circle formed around a charming dancer, slightly more dressed than the others, who had to be the beautiful Amina.

Scarlett could not believe her eyes. Taisy had warned her that the outfit of the members of the troupe would be daring, but at this point... These girls displayed indecent cleavage, bare arms and their legs...

"Rhett!" she whispered - "But... they are naked to the thighs!"

Rhett laughed and whispered in her ear, "Would you follow in the footsteps of dear Dolly Merryweather, my prudish Scarlett? You can open your eyes without being damned: they all wear tights. But... flesh-colored, on purpose.... This subterfuge has caused a columnist from your beloved Georgia State to write in Augusta that if Eve could transport herself to the Black Crook room, she would feel perfectly at home there!"(*5)

Taking advantage of these confidences in a low voice, he confessed in a hoarse voice, brushing her earlobe with his mouth: "But you would make Eve want to go to Hell out of frustration for not having your sensuality..."

She felt the fire in her cheeks and sat back in her chair to escape the dangerous contact with her neighbor. To give the change, she consulted the program that each spectator had received: the dance was entitled in French "Pas de sabot" (Galop Steps), which was going to be followed by "Pas de Fleurs"(Flowers steps).

Then the dramatic plot took shape with the vision of the Count, plotting the kidnapping of the beautiful peasant girl. The representation of the castle was soon replaced by the immersion in the Black Crook's laboratory, surrounded by copper basins overflowing with magic potions. When the Black Crook made a pact with the Devil, larger-than-life skeletons came to life and surrounded him to frighten him. Zamiel, fond of fresh souls, wearing a trident and bronze horns in his hair, was dressed all in red, with tights so tight that the young women - including Scarlett - were stunned.

Zamiel the Devil, in The Black Crook

Scarlett, on the other hand, found Rudolph the lover inconsistent, even though he had just been thrown into jail. No wonder he was caught in the trap of the alchemist and the Count.

Very quickly, she lost interest in the unfolding of the story, imitating all the spectators who were indifferent to the fate of the poor hero caught in the clutches of the disturbing swindler wearing a long black cape. Only the enchantment of the scenery and the frenzied music mattered.

Scarlett heard someone whisper from the seat behind her, "They're going to appear on the next sequence...."

The orchestra sang a new dynamic tune to keep the audience waiting as a new background was being set up behind the heavy curtains that had been drawn again.

A small group of men dressed in gold breastplates, tights under gaiters, and a large felt hat, formed a circle around an actress, as lightly dressed as those who had preceded her.

The first notes resounded.

She instantly recognized the tune. "Rhett, it is the famous song!" (*7)

Excited as a child, she was almost ready to copy some of the young women in the audience who applauded. What young woman had not heard whispered, during sewing activities in respectable parlors like Taisy's - words contrary to the propriety of the time, burlesquely sketching males as somewhat ignoble suitors?

 The one who played Carline, Amina's maid, intoned the first stanza with gusto, “I will never more deceive you, or of happiness bereave you”, passing in turn in front of the costumed men.

Scarlett could not help but glance at her neighbor. Badly took to her! He had the eyes riveted on her, drinking her reactions of pleasure with greed. With a small point of nostalgia, she linked with the one who constantly sought to make her laugh, so much so that it became touching that he was so happy with the result.

To reward him for these joyful memories, she sang to him in a low voice, along with Carline:

 “When you want a kiss or favour

You put on your best behavior,

And your looks of kindness savour,

Oh! you naughty, naughty men!”

He took her hand to put a kiss on it, then he intertwined their fingers. There was so much complicity between them!

The singer continued to tell of the disenchantments that these "naughty, naughty men" brought. One verse did not affect Scarlett, the one about husbands marrying out of self-interest to capture their wife's fortune. She decided not to sing it to Rhett because it was so inappropriate for their  history...

On the other hand, she even preceded the singer to chastise her former fickle husband with every word, pointing her green eyes into his like daggers:

“And when married how you treat us,

And of each fond hope defeat us,

And there’s some will even beat us,

Oh ! you naughty, naughty men !

You take us from our mothers,

From our sisters and our brothers,

When you get us flirt with others,

Oh ! you cruel wicked men !”

Rhett chuckled heartily, "What a fine actress you are, Dearest! Playing the compositional role of the weak wife bending under the yoke of her evil husband would earn you the title of the most ravishing tragedienne on Broadway! But... I can not wait for you to declare the last verse!" he added with a knowing wink.

Sensing that she was going to lose at her own game of provocation, she preferred to remain silent when Carline eventually softened her pamphlet by forgiving cheating male shortcomings :

 “But with all your faults, we clearly,

Love you wicked fellows dearly,

Yes, we dote upon dearly,

Oh ! you naughty, naughty men,

We’ve no wish to distress you,

We would soon or far caress you,

And when kind we’ll say, oh, bless you,

Oh ! you dear, delightful men,

Oh ! you naughty, dear, delightful men !”

The applause exploded towards the stage. Only Rhett reserved his for his neighbor, who was furious that the finale of the song forced her to lay down her arms in front of this scoundrel who was enjoying it.

Suddenly, there was trepidation in the auditorium. Like a rumble of impatience. Then, with the solemn sound of trumpets and drums, the curtain rose. The German baritones vibrated to the rhythm of The March of the Amazons. (*8) In a few seconds, they were relegated to the back of the stage because from the four corners of the immense stage advanced with a martial step an army of young girls so numerous that the spectators wondered if it was not an optical illusion. The flow did not stop!

Neither the roar of the brass instruments nor the rhythmic beating of the sticks on the drumskins could compete with the frenzied applause and whistles of enthusiasm that broke through at each new appearance of a cluster of ten choristers.

"But... this is incredible! How many of them are there?" whispered Scarlett in her neighbor's ear.

His eyes riveted to the scene, he whispered to her, "One hundred. There are a hundred of them. This is the army of the hundred Amazons." (*3)

They lined up methodically to form five battalions. Their attire had the ambition to be warlike with the brass winged helmet matching the golden breastplate, and sporting a long spear in hand.

But there was no doubt that all the men in the audience were dying to get with these fleshy warriors! Rhett would not be the last of them!

And there was enough to be shocked for Scarlett and the young women powerless to calm the bewitchment of their men: except for some golden pompoms decorating the hem of the fabric, the costume designers had not even taken the trouble to cover the dancers of a rough skirt. They were naked - well, in tights - up to the crotch! To add to the provocation, rather than armor, the waist-hugging breastplate was cut out just below the breasts. The fine gold-tinted combat boots finished disguising the Amazons as fighters of seduction. 

Rhett looked straight ahead, smiling saucily. My goodness! He does not even remember that I exist, this old womanizer! He is sure to be at the party tonight!

As an admirer of beauty, Scarlett recognized that the show had allure: two hundred "naked" legs rising in unison while singing The March of the Amazons! Now I understand better why The Black Crook is so successful!

The curtain came down to thunderous applause. Many would have flaming palms the next day!

oooOOooo

The interval was marked. Some took the opportunity to stretch their legs, others rushed to the bar while the women went to powder their noses.

Giovanni, who had remained attentive throughout the first act, watching for the slightest crease in the tunics and skirts, invited them to follow him.

Aware of the privilege the owner of the National Theater was granting them both, Scarlett promised herself she would memorize everything and then tell Taisy.

Rhett held her arm tightly as they had to climb some rudimentary stairs.

Their guide pointed to large wooden panels on casters: "Here are some of the gigantic sets waiting to be handled. They were painted in London. There are no less than seventy stagehands and carpenters to activate the mechanical effects."

Scarlett stood still in front of an oddity, an assembly of oak boards and pulleys: "It looks like a paddle wheel!" (*9)

The Black Crook backstage, the "paddle mill" -

"I congratulate you on your insight, Dear Mrs. Butler. The principle is the same. There is a rotary motion, except that the wider blades are intended to propel - safely - our dancers. By the way, look! Here they are getting ready for the next scene: the vaporous nymphs will climb in altitude so that they can slowly descend to Earth. The effect will be magical, I promise you."

Nervous words, interspersed with "Speed up!", "Let's hurry!", preceded a dozen ballet girls grouped at the bottom of the screened staircase. The first one settled down on the blade, helped by a machinist who secured the banister to which she was standing.

But, less than this ingenious mechanism, it was their occupants that amazed Scarlett: they were wearing the Black Crook costume makers' favorite romper - the owner of The Boutique Robillard was at a loss for words to describe this little piece of fabric that puffed out at the hips, ending with bangs at the top of the thighs, while the V-neckline was dizzying. They were all equipped with crenelated wings on their backs, a crown, and a golden starry wand. Real elves or fairies.

All in their concentration, they were tripping with excitement to enter the stage.

Scarlett watched them as she might have studied exotic animal species confined in a zoo. Their world was so different than hers and the Atlanta women'!

One of them glanced in their direction - or rather in Rhett's direction - before smiling at him. He thanked her with a discreet quiver of his whiskers.

Discreet but saucy! How dare he? Of course, in this case, it was only a vain reflex of a man used to please. But Scarlett was beginning to get annoyed with the situation: I threw him into the lion's den - or rather into the Paradise of debauched men like him...

She squared her shoulders to chase away this raging reflection. It was not going to spoil the chance to visit the bowels of the Black Crook, thanks to their guide: "Seventy machinists? This staging has the scale of several army battalions on the front. The ballerinas look like a swarm of bees as they emerge from everywhere!"

"You used the right word, Mrs. Butler. It's a real army. For the sets, in addition to the seventy carpenters, no less than twenty gasmen are in charge of the lighting - you'll understand why later on. As for the opera singers and ballerinas, the producers have selected them from the prestigious opera houses of London, Paris, Milan and Berlin.  Of course, it is the chorus girls who constitute the main part of the workforce. There are more than a hundred of them to constitute the "Grand Parisienne Ballet Troupe". Among them, 45 come directly from Paris. They had crossed the Atlantic to perform in America a fashionable piece, The deer in the Wood. Luckily - if you can call it that - their theater burned down. That's how they wonderfully changed the fate of the Black Crook. To satisfy choreographer David Costa's ambitions and add a local contingent, a small advertisement had appeared in the local press: "Looking for sixty ballet girls for the next Black Crook at Niblo's." The most dashing young girls from New York showed up." (*3)

Rhett cleared his throat in impatience. "Giovanni, I thank you for taking time out of your busy night to be Scarlett's guide. It's time to return to our seats."

oooOOooo

At the opening of the second act, the scenic power of the extravaganza reached its peak, so much so that instead of loud applause, a religious silence embraced the crowd, fascinated by a phantasmagorical cave.

Stalactites hanging from the arched roof disgorged from the depths of the cave by a judicious trick in trompe-l'oeil.  The lights, judiciously positioned, increased the sinuosity of the shadows and fossilized colors.

Rhett whispered in the ear of his dazzled neighbor, "This is the cave of Stalacta, the Queen of the Golden Realm."

Stalacta, the Queen of the Golden Realm, in the enchanted cave

The multicolored minerals set in the limestone sediments were reflected on the surface of the underground lake. A waterfall was pouring over the coral bed. As if by magic, the fairies - propelled behind the scenes by the mill's flippers - sprang from the silver water to perform an aquatic ballet. (*10) Hidden choristers sang a bewitching ballad, accentuating the magic of the moment.

Rhett was not looking at the stage. He only had eyes for Scarlett, mesmerized by her happy expression. A raw joy, without artifice. He gave in to the urge to caress with infinite gentleness, for fear of taking her out of her state of bliss, the heavy curly lock that had been purposely freed from her sophisticated bun.

He whispered faintly so she could not hear him, "My tender Scarlett, amazed as a child..."

She turned towards him. Her eyes reflected a lake of opalescent green. She did not have the modesty to hide her joy without artifice: "It is so beautiful, Rhett!"

From the depths of the cave, a luminous apparition elicited "Oh!" from the room. It was a dreamy figure: a long golden mane, falling to her waist, draped in a long crimson velvet skirt, slit in front at the waist, so that the men's attention was riveted on the lustrous golden tunic cut out at the crotch over long bare legs. With her diadem and her scepter, there was no more doubt. The dove, saved by the painter, had been transformed into Stalacta, the Queen of the Golden Kingdom.

The fairies sat at her feet, the dragonflies circled her. At that moment, the curtain came down behind this idyllic group. Everyone listened to her singing The Power of Love, until they all repeat it along to the music, followed by Flow On, Silver Stream.  

The interlude allowed the string of stagehands to set up the new foreground set in record time.   

The mineral cave was still visible in the right background. But trees with stringy branches now transported the viewers into the middle of the Louisiana bayou. A boat, with Rudolph at the helm, was struggling to navigate the swamp. He had to brave the danger of the aquatic monsters that poked their heads between the reeds, before reaching the enchanted river and the Golden Kingdom.

In this sinister place, a satanic incantation ritual was being invoked by the German baritones, the tragic notes of the piano and the solemn acoustics of the brass. The devil, dressed all in red except for his golden brass mask, was surrounded by his court of monsters, gnomes and hybrid animals. With small steps, a ballet of six ballet girls interfered among them.

A dull roar came through the auditorium aisles, "The Demons Step!"

The Demons' step, the Black Crook -

This inflamed the entire audience, both female and male - even if the causes were opposite. The alibi of classical choreography no longer held. The female demons were well named, exposing their crotches to everyone. Their vulgarity - according to the exclusive judgment of the women present - was aggravated by the little scarlet fabric with which they were covered - No! uncovered. For, sewn on the chest, the buttocks and the pelvis, three big pink hearts hypnotized all the males present.  (*11)

This display of flesh..., it's unseemly, Mammy would have said. 

She had expected to see a ribald smirk on Rhett's features given this salacious exhibition so in keeping with his tastes. Instead, she was astonished to read there was only an atone expression. Then his features froze.

She followed his gaze. Nothing special at first glance, except that the demonesses had just moved to the edge of the stage. So close that their faces were visible - and they could guess the faces of their admirers in the front row.

One of the demonesses, The Black Crook -

Was it an impression, or had one of the evil girls just nodded eloquently to someone in the audience, seeming to dedicate an even more exhibitionist leg-lift than the others?

By Jove! Right in our direction! In the direction of Rhett! And he just nodded imperceptibly in return...

He was the first to end what had seemed like a millisecond exchange and turned to Scarlett, whose furrowed brow scrutinized him.

He was uncomfortable. There was no doubt about it. She knew him so well that she read the embarrassment in his eyes.

She hesitated between the attitude to reserve to him. Should she be offended? Or had she simply misinterpreted the distant mimicry of this chorus girl? Was it this famous Clementina that the Director of the National Theater had mentioned?

But, with the dexterity of a transformist, he had already put back his bantering mask: "I warned you that The Black Crook would offend the young provincial that you are. But don't take offense. The author Mark Twain wrote that this show was capable of debauching more than one pure soul." (*6) With his eyes sparkling with mischief, he kissed her knuckles one by one: "Without knowing you, it is likely that he was talking about you and your soul so ready to be corrupted..." 

The music stopped, and the curtain came down.  

"During the intermission, let's take the opportunity to have a cold drink." His hand did not leave her lower back until they exited the auditorium.

oooOOooo

Once again, a thunder of cheers resounded at the opening of the third act. It was deserved because the change of scenery was total. No longer was nature magnified but the exterior of Wolfenstein's castle whose architecture was worthy of the Palace of Versailles. The action was supposed to take place in the moonlight. That's why countless torches and candelabras - with goddesses on their shafts - lit up the building's walls. The gasmen had done their job well! The team of carpenters had installed a monumental double staircase with two floors surrounding a fountain.

The terrace was first used as a pretext for a masked ball where the most eccentric outfits and hats were displayed - making sure that the disguises did not hide anything of the bare legs and arms. The Grand Ballet of the Candelabras signaled the beginning of the festivities.

The ball at wolfenstein's castle, The Black Crook -

Then, by the plot, came the moment of the battle between young Rudolph and the Count, between good and evil. As soon as the first helmets and spears were raised, a hundred female warriors descended the double staircase, chanting the March of the Amazons. Their golden armor, reverberated by the flickering flame of the candelabras, reflected hundreds of small stars around them.

Lined up in battle order, spears turned toward the Count's meager male squadron, the female Imperial Guard was threatening enough to drive the opposing troop back, all the while continuing to sing in chorus.

The end of the fight surprised no one. Rudolph killed the Count in a duel and his fiancée threw herself into his arms.

The last scene made more than one lady shudder, for the setting was the Kingdom of Satan. Articulated skeletons surrounded the Black Crook. The alchemist was symbolically pushed towards a door that the painter had perfectly succeeded in transforming into an inferno.

The Devil Zamiel and the Black Crook -

Once again the curtain was lowered to allow time for the last set to fall into place.

With a naughty look, Rhett whispered to her: "Would you like to know my wildest phantasm, Mrs. Butler - oh! Excuse me! Miss O'Hara? It is that later, in our suite, you will do a little demonstration of the coming choreography... "

Before she could answer him that her true fantasy was to send him to the Devil with the Black Crook, the first notes of catchy music were covered by whistles of the males not hiding their excitement anymore.

Scarlett immediately recognized the tune: The Infernal Galop by Frenchman Offenbach. She had heard it played by the Atlanta orchestra. She had even attended a show with Rhett where this scandalous dance had been performed.

But nothing could compare to the "leg show" that the Black Crook was putting on. One hundred young girls burst onto the stage, holding their frilly petticoats in both hands and waving them around to the frantic rhythm of the French cancan. (*12)

Both men and women were carried away by this frenzy. Obviously, the males were moved by the two hundred naked legs rising in unison and letting guess the crotch of the ladies. The young women, for their part, were seduced by this debauchery of color and lace, blowing a wind of gaiety and freedom into their corseted lives of "well-bred" women. The orchestra had to play the same theme several times because it was systematically applauded in cadence by the clapping of the hands of the customers of the National Theater.

Scarlett imitated them with gusto, not realizing that Rhett's attention was more focused on her than on the petulant Frenchwomen or supposedly so.

By the time the acrobatic dancers concluded their performance by doing the splits on the floor, people could not hold their joy anymore. The Grand Parisienne Ballet Troupe eventually made their way backstage as the applause continued.   

At the end of the third act, the audience was conquered by the Black Crook. Everyone was amazed by this prodigality of beauty, scandal, inventiveness, and magic.

Scarlett had never seen anything so spectacular.

"The best part is at the end, it is the Transformation Scene" Rhett warned her.

The transformation scene, The Black Crook -

Indeed, if the success of The Black Crook was partly due to the choreography and the scandalous exhibition of fresh and naked flesh, it was also because of the ingenuity of the mechanical tricks that reached their climax in the ultimate scene.   

The setting was again the cave, this time wrapped in a thick mist.  Gradually, the curtains of mist rose and fell away, turning into dew. The enchantment reached its peak when graceful nymphs, lounging nonchalantly on silver cushions, swirled and levitated amidst the silver rain. The rocks of the cave lit up and gradually revealed tons of gold and diamonds. To everyone's amazement, golden chariots led by angels sprang from the clouds obstructing the ceiling. When the stone rock was magically - or rather mechanically - transformed in front of everyone into the throne room where the Queen of the Golden Realm was standing, there was general euphoria. (*13)

People stood up and, clapped their hands. “Bravo!”, and “Fantastic!" came from all parts of the auditorium.

As soon as the curtain came down, everyone felt the nostalgia of having experienced a magical evening together. Many young women's eyes were misty. 

Scarlett tried as best she could to hide the emotion that had gripped her. "It was a real fairy tale! Too bad it was just an illusion..."

But she immediately regretted this disillusioned observation. What sentimentality! This admission of weakness is ridiculous, especially in the presence of Rhett...

But he had noticed her wet eyelashes. In the midst of the general commotion, and as the seats slowly began to clear, he took her chin, "Look at me, Scarlett."

She bit her lower lip to regain composure.

"Your eyes have more sparkle than the Golden Realm. How I regret..." He paused, his voice hoarse, so that Scarlett came to her senses and questioned him curiously, "You regret?"

This time it was he who broke contact and lowered his head so as not to have to face her gaze: "Yes, I regret, from the bottom of my heart, that I did not take you to see the play during our marriage. I should have forced you out of that damned sawmill and put you on the train. I would have had the pleasure of watching you have a wild time like a little girl. Instead, selfishly, cowardly, I shamefully..."

He paused, about to... confess something?

This sketch of mumbled regret in the middle of the theater was so surreal - especially coming from the unflappable Rhett - that it disconcerted Scarlett.

But she did not learn more as Giovanni invited them to follow him. "Please come, unforgettable Thunder of Georgia ! The Black Crook team is about to have the honor of making your acquaintance!"

oooOOooo

It was a real hustle and bustle.

Rhett held Scarlett's arm tightly against him to prevent a panel on wheels from hitting them, as the stagehands in charge of dismantling the sets were constantly passing each other.

It was a new ballet they were witnessing, more intimate but just as meticulously choreographed. Each numbered item was dismantled and taken away in a specific order, organized after years of Black Crook experience. Accessories, helmets, spears, candelabras, and carpentry pieces would then disappear into the storage warehouse at the back of the building.

The handlers were working in a good mood. Some were whistling, others were commenting on some assembly difficulty that had appeared backstage. All seemed to be free of a weight that, despite hundreds of performances, had swirled around their heads, the apprehension that a grain of sand - a machine breakdown or a last-minute breakage - would come and derail the Black Crook's well-oiled mechanism envied by the professionals in the business.

In passing, Scarlett guessed among the pieces of molding an element of the gemstone cave that had enchanted her. From dream to banal reality. What is left is pasteboard and low wampum.  

The decorator preceded them into the corridors. Many of the dressing rooms were open, even though the girls were stripping off their short stage costumes behind makeshift screens to put on dresses more in keeping with the decency of the time.

With a curiosity worthy of that of the gathered Old Guard, Scarlett had the aplomb to furtively fly over the interior. Bustiers, petticoats, and multicolored laces fluttered from one hand to the other while bouncing buttocks freed themselves from constraining stockings.

A thought brought her back to that day at the Twelve Oaks picnic and her harmless gossip with Cathleen Calvert. We would have both fallen off our chairs if we had caught such a vulgar display of girls practically undressing for all to see! Oh, how we would have laughed while hiding from our Mammies!

Bits of cheerful conversation flowed from one dressing room to the next. One complained about a hole in her tights, another about a nipple that had escaped from the bodice a little too much while dancing. Others laughed at their overtly pushy admirers who would undoubtedly be waiting for them when they left the theater.

Scarlett became aware that Rhett was the first witness to the sensual atmosphere that transpired in this corridor. He will gather enough salacious images to fill his future fantasies!

With a twinge of sorrow, the idea came to her that perhaps he would prefer, at this moment, to join this flock of pretty girls, some of whom would reward him with open arms, rather than serve as an escort to a former wife less young than them, and whom he had repudiated anyway.

Their guide opened a door where it was engraved: "Private room".

Scarlett had the reflex to untie her train and arch her back even more.

Scarlett's dress - La France Elégante 1870 -

The first person she distinguished was Antonio who came in their direction. "My dear friends!" Gently holding Scarlett's fingertips, he turned to the audience, "The National Theater has a great honor tonight to enjoy the presence of the most fascinating Lady of the South, the Bellissima Mrs. Scarlett Butler!"

Conversations stopped, and all eyes focused on the newcomer. The men stood up. The women present studied the beauty wrapped in a dreamy dress who accompanied Rhett Butler, from top to bottom. He lifted his hat to greet them discreetly, not wanting to interfere with the successful entrance of his belle from Clayton County.

"Allow me to introduce you to the distinguished cast of the Black Crook."

Scarlett had enough experience to hide her feelings, and she put on her most sympathetic and charming smile. But she was truly impressed, for before she were the First Ballerina, Amina, Count Wolfenstein, young Rudolph, the Black Crook, and the Devil Zamiel! It was a sensation as preposterous as when Ella had imagined, as a child, that her fairy tale characters would come out of the book and come to life!    

 Respecting the order of prestige of the actors, it was Marietta Bonfanti who was the first to speak. "Cara Scarlett, how charming you are! And what about your finery? Never would a costume designer be able to create such an original outfit!"

The actress who played Amina, Miss Rawlinson, went on to say, "Instead of my classic tutu, I would dream of wearing such a formal gown on stage that was so innocently flowered and so sensual at the same time... Although I would probably have some difficulty executing an arabesque with it!" she added, laughing at the vision.

Scarlett thanked them warmly, returning sweet compliments on their dancing performances. "Of all the classical concerts I have ever attended, I have never admired such grace and mastery of the art of ballet!"   

Both ballerinas were pleasant to be around. The Italian is so small and well proportioned that she looks like a porcelain doll. As for the interpreter of Amina, contrary to her character, she sparkles with fantasy!

But her puff of empathy with the female gender was immediately evaporated when she heard the cooing - for it is the real cooing of pigeons in heat, she fulminated - that the two young artists addressed to her former husband. "Rhett, we missed you! I hope you'll have time to tell us one of your many blockade-breaking stories. I shudder every time!"

Flattered as usual by the feminine attention, this one reminded them of an amusing anecdote that made them chirp more beautifully.

Scarlett's reaction was swift. She decided to compete with Rhett in his own game of seduction. The two Italian cousins were talking on the side. She had to choose her target among the four male actors who were eating her with their eyes.

Rudolph's interpreter, Theo Hamilton, blushed and gave her a shy smile. As cute and bland as his namesake..., the cruel one giggled inwardly. (*13)

The Black Crook, who, to look better in front of the beautiful guest, had in the meantime shed his hook-nosed mask and the hump sewn into his cloak, was now a small, paunchy, half-bald man. He was sweating profusely. She congratulated herself for wearing her silk gloves so as not to come into contact with his sweaty hands.

Alex Fitzgerald resembled the Count with his strong build, wriggling mustache, and silver temples. An old beau who can not take his lustful eyes off me.

On the other hand, Zamiel.... His gilded brass mask sat on a side table. But his jet-black curly hair was still encircled by his crown topped with two bronze horns. The horns of the Devil! Scarlett thought that this devil looked as good in this private room as he did in the bowels of Hell. The red silk of his fitted tunic covered him up to his crotch. Low enough for the effect to be suitable on stage. But close up.... His tight crimson tights hid nothing of his generous attributes.

David Costa, as The Devil Zamiel, in the Black Crook -

A flush of heat made her fear that she had become as crimson as her dress. But no! Appearances were safe.

He approached her with a feline step that reminded her of another.

This other who, while continuing to entertain the two dancers, had not missed anything of the interactions between the actors and Scarlett. He tended instinctively when he saw advancing the false devil but a real notorious womanizer. Moved by the reflex of the wild beast of which another would like to appropriate his loot, he held on the lookout. Ready to jump.

"John Robertson, at your service, Mrs. Butler! I can see why that smug Rhett had taken care to hide you. You symbolize the Grail for which the hero - and the Devil... - he added, his black pupils dilated, - would embark on a maddening conquest, disdaining the Golden Realm of Stalacta too dull in comparison to such a treasure!"

"I did not know that the Devil could be so charming! I understand better why my Mammy had warned me against the temptations of Hell!" she added in the same bantering tone, fluttering her long lashes and animating her fan with mastery.

Stimulated by this frivolous chatter, she suddenly had the urge to throw overboard the title of Mrs. Butler that had been falsely attributed to her since she left Atlanta. What was the point of persisting in this hypocrisy when she had made it clear that very morning? Especially since, in this milieu of artists who were friends of Rhett's, puritanical social conventions were ignored! 

 "Call me Miss O'Hara, please, as our union is no longer relevant. Or more simply Scarlett to you brilliant Black Crook actors."

All eyes turned alternately to the couple. Who was no longer a couple.

The two ballerinas exchanged a knowing look. Antonio and Giovanni wondered why their friend had been so stupid as to let a charming young lady like Scarlett escape. The Count and Rudolph regained hope.

As for the Devil... "Scarlett! My palate will delight in pronouncing a name so consistent with your flamboyance! Is it fate that your scarlet dress matches my stage costume? What could be more seductive than the alliance of the Angel with the Devil? You are..."

He did not have time to finish his sentence because Rhett, in two strides, interposed. To deny what Scarlett had knowingly revealed, he claimed his property by placing his hand against the lower back of the young woman, exactly at the end of her satin bustier. All teeth outside, he said under the tone of the joke contradicted by the icy glare of his prunes: "May the devils of Hell take care not to be transformed into a heap of ashes by the power of the fire of this fragile Georgian!"       

Around them, witnesses laughed at the good word, pretending not to understand the thinly veiled threat that heralded one of the legendary duels won by the fiery Captain Butler.

Mute, Scarlett recognized the clenching of his jaws so characteristic of violence that was rising.  She freed herself from Rhett's grasp with a graceful shift in space.

It was the decorator who took the initiative to lighten the mood: "My dear friends, I have the great honor of presenting to you, embodied by our lovely Scarlett, the true Thunder of Georgia, the muse of the celebrated couturier Duncan Vayton, the creator of La Mode Duncan Haute Couture!"

The charms of this splendid young woman are infinite, and I would dream to admire them more closely... John Robertson licked his lower lip with greediness, while not depriving himself of accentuating his attention on the so appetizing bodice of this "muse ".

It was not a good idea: with an imperceptible movement forward, Butler, who obviously still was considering his former wife to be his preserve, dissuaded him from continuing his courtship. What nerve then that this womanizer jumps on everything that moves among the chorus! But the interpreter of the Devil, who was not invested with the powers of the latter to thwart the notorious brutality of this boor, judged it preferable to make a low profile.

The decorator's affirmation had a great effect on the two ballerinas.  

Jeannie Rawlinson was dying to know more: "The one that all of New York is praising as America's Prince of Fashion? Not only have you met the most beautiful living fashion designer, but you are his muse! How lucky! Is he as handsome as the First Dancer of New York told me?" 

Scarlett restrained herself from triumphing over her former husband who had dared to claim her in front of John as his property.  She leaned toward the admirer of her secret fiancé, to confide, under the guise of confidence, but loud enough that Rhett did not miss a word, "Do not repeat it, but, with his wide blue eyes as pure as the ocean and his blond curls, Duncan Vayton is the perfect combination of an angel and the god Apollo." Jeannie giggled at this suggestive portrait.  

Marietta Bonfanti gave the former Mrs. Butler a pout of surprise and respect. With a single sentence, Giovanni had provided Scarlett with a sesame, that of being recognized as her equal, a Diva of the artistic world.

Cara mia Scarlett! So it is you, Thunder of Georgia! When I read the Harper's Bazaar columnist's report, I was dying of curiosity to know who had managed to inspire the Fashion Genius to the point of consecrating her as a muse to the crème de la crème of the South! I understand better now. As soon as you entered our parlor, dressed as elegantly as my Italian Queen Marguerite from Savoie, I detected in you something other than your beauty. No doubt that it takes a captivating personality to make the most coveted bachelor heir dream! Between us," - she whispered so as not to be heard by Rhett - "you must have stirred up storms and lightning when you were his wife..."

Scarlett did not react to the hint and kept her most affable face.

The Italian added, with a hint of innuendo, "The Harper Bazaar reporter closed his article by pointing out that you opened the ball with him and danced the night away. How thrilling that must have been....!"   

"Scarlett does not need a tailor to shine!" - Rhett's voice thundered through the four walls of the lodge, drawing his audience like a magnet.

How did he manage to combine nonchalance with an underlying hardness that only she could discern? The young woman would always be surprised by his oratorical talent. In passing, she registered the contemptuous description of a tailor, making Duncan look like a small-time shopkeeper.

But his tone immediately changed to one of astonishing solemnity:

"My dear friends, I am going to reveal to you who is behind this beautiful face. For the past ten years, she has been a businesswoman who turns into gold all the companies she creates, knocking out the men who had the pretension to compete with her." He ceremoniously kissed the back of her hand, "You are looking at the woman who has single-handedly and masterfully managed two of the largest lumber mills in Georgia, a real estate construction company, and the largest hardware store in Atlanta. And today, Georgia's richest and most elegant ladies compete for her fashion collections in her store, drawn like butterflies to the light. I might add," - as men and women applauded, awed by this hagiographic portrait painted by Rhett Butler - "Scarlett has just been named President of the Bonnie Butler Art Museums Financial Fund!"

Scarlett preferred not to look at Rhett for fear that he would read her. The fact that he was praising her business acumen affected her more than it should have.

"Mama Mia! How can such a fragile young woman make her way in an all-male business world? I'm impressed with you. And I can see why Rhett pampers you!" It had been ages since Marietta Bonfanti had been in awe of another woman.

Antonio added, talking to Rhett: "I am mad at you, my Friend, to have deprived us of such a pearl that this delicious Bella Donna! But I understand you, old rogue! You preferred to keep her for you only! "

Those present laughed heartily.

"Fiddle-dee-dee! Enough flattery! All these activities are so boring compared to your artistic genius. Are you aware, all of you here, of your power to make small provincial girls like me dream? Thanks to you, I have been transported to a world of fantasy where the worries of everyday life have no place. If I dared, I think I would beg for a small place to join your troupe! "she finished happily.

They clapped together and laughed at this surprising suggestion.

Marietta Bonfanti enthused: "And why not? A role could be created especially for you!"

It was then the outbidding of ideas in an atmosphere of gaiety, especially since Antonio had taken care to serve a glass of champagne to his guests.

The costume designer was carried away by this impulse: "What a great idea! You could play the Lightning threatening the Devil every time he appears! I imagine a sky full of storms. You would appear, costumed in your long Thunder of Georgia dress illuminated. Clutching a golden scepter in the shape of a lightning bolt, you would set fire to the trees under which Zamiel had taken refuge."

The Demon, having taken hold of John Robertson's body, shuddered at this mirage: "The scepter would be a useless accessory. The burning of your emerald eyes would be enough to consume me..."

Rather satisfied that he had not abandoned his courtship notwithstanding Rhett's latent threat, she thanked him by digging her dimples irresistibly.

The owner of the National Theater did not want to be outdone: "This is an excellent idea that I could suggest to the play’s director, always eager to evolve the plot of the Black Crook. I can imagine his eagerness to announce the birth of a new star who combines beauty, elegance, and charisma! At the top of the poster would be written, "World Exclusive, The Thunder of Georgia!""

In this bohemian environment where any madness was conceivable, one heard "Why not?" amused by this off-the-wall idea.  

Scarlett judged that it was time to put an end to this eccentric lucubration: "Mr. Pagani, you are the most amiable flatterer I have ever met!" She dexterously opened her fan and accentuated the sway of her train. "It is a great happiness for me to have come close with the greatest ballerinas and actors on the American stage. In all modesty, I shall limit my actress talents to the floors of my Robillard's Boutique!"

Carried away by his whim, Antonio insisted, "How unfortunate! Couldn't you make an exception if The Black Crook ever made a stop in Atlanta?"

All of a sudden, a thunderous laugh burst out as violently as a cannonball, shaking the rice paper screen. Rhett was folded in half, much to the delight of the onlookers who had never seen him so hilarious.

Rhett Butler -

When he had caught his breath, he apostrophized Scarlett, "Oh, I can not wait to see the looks on the faces of our dear Ladies Merriwether, Meade, Esling and India Wilkes when they see you showing even one of your pretty bare ankles in public!"

Imagining the wrathful look on the Old Guard's face caused a cascade of melodious laughter from the former Mrs. Butler, while Rhett had tears in his eyes as he relished the prospect.

Their deep complicity was so obvious that the witnesses wondered once again why “Mr. and Mrs. Butler” was no longer “relevant”.

Scarlett finally caught her breath: "It would be the event of the decade if the Black Crook stopped in Atlanta! Harry Bennett, the City's Director of Arts and Culture would roll out the red carpet for the production. And my best friend Taisy Benett, who admired you on stage in New York, would be thrilled to meet you. Is it possible that there is, in the midst of your busy performance schedule, a possible stop in our Georgia capital?"

Marietta consulted with the other members of the group. "Wouldn't it be nice to sample the charms of the Old South, and cherry on top, enjoy the radiant presence of Scarlett and Rhett? Who knows exactly the performance schedule for the 1876/77 season?"

"I'll go..." Antonio paused as there was a knock at the door.

Without waiting for an answer, a young girl entered.

From where Scarlett and Rhett were standing, she could not see them at first glance.

Scarlett, blown away by this appearance, had quickly done to gauge her.

The latter had shed her fighting spear but she was indeed an Amazon of the Imperial Guard.

In all its danger. From bottom to top.   

(Clementina) - A demoness actress of The Black Crook -

Thin golden boots, with an outrageously high heel, stopping at the tender curve of the calf. Long, bare legs... - so long that Scarlett was jealous of them - stretching to the crotch.  And this famous tunic, or skirt, or... She did not find the word. Except that she judged the cut of an extreme vulgarity with its golden tassels which agitated, points of fixation of the lustful attention of the males, voluntary preys of the Amazons. A golden girdle - as effective at slimming the waist as Scarlett's worst torture corset, stopping right below the chest. My goodness, but her breasts are going to explode under her bodice...

The owner of The Boutique Robillard was growing increasingly annoyed with her examination, because, on the girl’s throat and naked arms, free of her winged helmet, was rolling in cascade long hair as black as a raven, hair as long as Scarlett’s.

Oh my goodness! I am recognizing her now! Those bouncy cheekbones, those lips smeared with red... The Demoness! The one who waved at Rhett!  

If her examination took the young Georgian only a quarter of a second, she did not miss the frozen muscles of the jaw of her traveling companion.

"Uncle Antonio! I spotted Rhett in the audience earlier! Has he been by to see you yet?" The nasal voice, with its New York accent mixed with Latin roundness, stopped short because her uncle was making big eyes at her. He was not the only one in the parlor. Others cautiously preferred to lower their heads.  

The Amazon saw Rhett first and walked up to him, mouth agape. "Ah finally, you’re here!"

Scarlett clenched her teeth. She hesitated between the desire to scratch her pretty little face or to smear it with the red that overflowed from her lips, when an iron grip anesthetized her rage. Rhett was holding her waist to break it until their hips touched.

Despite what she had said a few minutes earlier about the end of their relationship, she did not rebel, because the eloquent display of the intimate gesture had been intercepted by the girl who froze.

The owner of the National Theater put an end to this bad farce: "Dear Scarlett, I want you to meet my niece Clementina. She is a backup dancer on The Black Crook." Then, addressing the newcomer, "Ciara Clementina, this wonderful young woman of innumerable talents is Mrs. Scarlett Butler. Mrs. Rhett Butler." The tone was meant to be familial. It was perceived by all as a threatening cleaver putting an end to all discussion. 

By Jove! Clementina... The one who is bored to death in the Capital when Rhett is not there to entertain them... A fit of instinctive jealousy made her shiver.

But she felt the warmth of his burning palm against her loins. Then the reflexes inherent in thirty years of training to transform the passionate, rebellious little girl into a great Southern lady, finally bore fruit. Mother would be proud of me and my perfect civility to a woman of low status. One should not despise inferiors, she would teach us. I would add, dear Mother, at least outwardly. For this.... This...

She charitably graced her with the condescending smile a Lady bestows on her maid, accentuating the haughty queenly bearing that she had learned to shape and sculpt until she mastered it brilliantly by experimenting with it against the other well-born girls of Clayton County.

Clementina made a kind of small bow that Scarlett interpreted as the recognition of submission of the vassal to her chatelaine. The poor scatterbrain was no match for her in this battle of wits.  

Rhett was continuing to hug his former wife's waist - an inappropriate and unthinkable gesture in society, let alone in Atlanta.

Scarlett would have broken free of this straitjacket long ago, fleeing from this unseemly behavior, but she figured they were surrounded by entertainers used to theatrical embraces. And also... to be honest, she was not sad that Rhett was being affectionate in the presence of "the Demoness".

He had the intelligence not to pretend not to know her and greeted her with a more than controlled smile: "Good evening Clementina. Congratulations on your performance. The Amazon fight was epic, even more impressive than usual."

Taken aback by this turnaround, the chorus girl with dull brown eyes muttered a slightly embarrassed "Thank you Rhett!"

Noting that the storm had passed, the two ballerinas, the actors, and the set designer took a breath. Many thought: the king of poker has managed to get away with it again... 

The latter spoke distinctly so that he could be heard by all: "Scarlett, our evening is far from over. I am inviting you to the Willard's Ball!"

Reassured by his attentive attitude which ignored the presence of this back-alley Sally - because, she was persuaded of it, niece or not of a luminary of Washington, it was indeed a back-alley Sally who had not deprived herself of making the soft eyes with her former husband - Scarlett smiled cheerfully at this new project.

"Oh, but Mr. Pagani, I would like to show the Black Crook calendar when I get back to Atlanta so that Harry Benett can get in touch with the director. Could you provide it for me before we leave?"

The Italian was finally free of the fear of an incident between his scatterbrained niece and this perfect Southern lady. He found his cheerful air: "With pleasure, dear Scarlett! Clementina, you will find in my office, hanging on the wall, the list of the next dates of the Black Crook's passages in the cities for the next months. Could you quickly copy them down and bring them back?"

The little New York dancer came out of her trance, obeyed her uncle, and went to get the requested information.

Immediately, Rhett loosened his grip. Scarlett took the opportunity to detach herself from him.

The occupants of the lodge came to life again naturally.

John launched the hostilities. Since Butler's mistress was in ambush, why wouldn't he take a chance? "Scarlett, the Black Crook is on 'break' tomorrow. Traditionally, our little group here gathers for a feast at the restaurant. Would you do us the honor of joining us? With Rhett, of course."

The latter did not let her answer, "Too bad, Robertston, but we are taking the train back to Atlanta tomorrow afternoon."

All regretted this too short stay. "What a pity," cried Marietta. "I would have loved to enjoy your presence. We could become the best friends in the world!"

Scarlett was amused at such genuine kindness. "I know, and I am already heartbroken to leave you. But I insist-I insist-that you accept my invitation to my home on Peachtree Street when you come to Georgia."

The mood was one of laughter, regret, and joy at the prospect of meeting again soon, especially as the champagne flowed freely.

Scarlett kissed both ballerinas, and the men prolonged their hand-kissing a bit too much. Rhett promised Antonio that he would get his revenge at the next poker game. They exchanged addresses and promised to keep in touch.

Then Clementina came back. "I have the list.”

She walked right up to Rhett and handed it to him, seeking his gaze.

He did not pay attention to her and absent-mindedly slipped two carefully folded sheets into the pocket of his pants.

With a half-ceremonious, half-mocking salute, he declared, "Ladies and gentlemen, we are sorry to leave such entertaining company, but the fun does not wait! Scarlett wants to dance!"

They left, leaving the merrymakers to comment on the beautiful encounter they had just made.

Author : Arlette Dambron

#Arlette dambron, #the black crook, #first american musicals, #you naughty naughty men, #march of the amazons, #pas de demons the black crook, #rum raw Washington, #national theater washington, #E street washington, #rhett butler, #scarlett o'hara, #gone with the wind, #fanfiction gone with the wind, #end of gone with the wind, #washington in 1870s, #historic novel 

Washington, The Rum Row on E Street 1880.

Notes on Chapter 45:

 (*1)The National Theater : I romanticized the interior of the National Theater auditorium. However, as far as the Imperial Hotel is concerned, the descriptions correspond to reality - source : The Imperial Hotel and the National Theater, and Rum Row: a closer look, Washington's notorious Rum Row, circa 1880 - Streets of Washington. com - http://www.streetsofwashington.com/2018/08/a-closer-look-washingtons-notorious-rum.html

(*2) Marietta Bonfanti: this Italian dancer became famous for her role as the first ballerina of the Black Crook. - photographs of Marie Bonfanti : source Wikimedia - https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Category:Marie_Bonfanti

(*3) The Black Crook is considered the first American musical, written by Charles M. Barras, with music by George Bickwell and Giuseppe Operti and lyrics by Theodore Kennick -

Premiere of Black Crook on September 12, 1866: actors, ads, reviews - source: Music in Gotham, the New York Scene 1862/1875 - https://www.musicingotham.org/event/88505

At the first performance, the actual length of the show, as presented in 1866, was 5 hours and 30 minutes, with a 40-minute intermission between each act! Needless to say, I couldn't force Rhett and Scarlett to be confined to the theater for so long, when they had other things to do....

The flow of the acts and the many musical interludes - including the French cancan, correspond to the versions of Black Crook performed in the mid-1870s, early 1880s. In 1866, there were only two or three songs, including You naughty, naughty men. I tried to be as faithful as possible to the descriptions of the settings and the action. It was not easy, because, apart from the program posters, I could only find bits and pieces of information in the newspaper reviews of the time, from one site to another. Fortunately, there were some illustrations!

 Operetta Research Center: Double Treat: "The Black Crook" From New York and London - http://operetta-research-center.org/double-treat-black-crook-new-york-london/

And: The Demystification Of "The Black Crook - http://operetta-research-center.org/demystification-black-crook/

Collection of vintage photographs of Black Crook actors and actresses: Harry Ransom Center, The University of Texas at Austin, Digital Collections:  https://hrc.contentdm.oclc.org/digital/collection/p15878coll29/search

(*4) The Black Crook, the book The naked truth!" in PDF format, An inside history of the Black crook by Joseph Whitton 1897 https://ia600501.us.archive.org/20/items/thenakedtruthins00whit/thenakedtruthins00whit.pdf

(*5) The Black Crook, Newspaper Reviews of the Time: "The Drama Is-Rubbish: The Early Impact of 'The Black Crook,' the Shocking and Scandalous American Musical – readex. com blog - https://www.readex.com/blog/%E2%80%9C-drama-%E2%80%94rubbish%E2%80%9D-early-impact-%E2%80%98-black-crook%E2%80%99-shocking-and-scandalous-american-musical

(*6) Mark Twain, in the columns of Alta, California newspaper - Source: Harry Ranson Center, The Black Crook: A Preliminary Inventory of the Collection at the Harry Ransom Center - https://norman.hrc.utexas.edu/fasearch/findingAid.cfm?eadid=01108

(*7) Song "You naughty, naughty men (Text by T. Kennick, music by G. Bickwell -

 Youtube, sung by Libby Dees: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tu1Y-M0c8hY&list=LL&index=3

Paroles de You naughty, naughty men, original score in PDF: - https://levysheetmusic.mse.jhu.edu/collection/053/103

(*8) Music March of the Amazons from the Black Crook: youtube, Adams Roberts, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wIe3MKVGuXw

(*9) Decor of the "mill blades": source: Bill's Brownstone - The Black Crook at Niblo's Garden Burlesque Comes to New York - http://billsbrownstone.com/nework/blackcrook

(*10) The Cave and the Nymph Ballet: source Music in Gotham, the New York Scene 1862-1875 - http://www.musicingotham.org/event/88505

(*11) “Pas de demons”, the Demons steps : picture of the female demons with their costume : Harry Ranson Center, The Black Crook: A Preliminary Inventory of the Collection at the Harry Ransom Center, pictures of actors - https://hrc.contentdm.oclc.org/digital/collection/p15878coll29/search

(*12) The French Cancan : this famous music is the one of the " Galop Infernal " of the opera-bouffe " Orpheus in the Underworld " by Jacques Offenbach (1819-1880). It was created in 1858 in his theater Bouffes-Parisiens.

Offenbach - Can-Can (Orpheus in the Underworld) source youtube, Aurora Grande - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=92CNf1TR7Tg&t=21s

The Black Crook and the French Cancan: this Parisian choreography appeared in the program in the early 1870s and helped make the Cancan famous in America.  Source: Delightful Devilry: The Cancan Invades New York - WhatsupYukon - https://whatsupyukon.com/yukon/history/delightful-devilry-the-cancan-invades-new-york/

(*13) The Black Crook, the last scene of the Transformation: source Music in Gotham, the New York Scene 1862-1875 - https://www.musicingotham.org/event/88505

(*14) Actors of the Black Crook: I had fun using the names of the performers on the poster dated 1870.

Chap. 46. The Claddagh ring, my novel The Boutique Robillard, my GWTW fanfiction - Mémoire de nos Anciens

The Irish Claddagh Ring - Chapter 46 - The Ring of Claddagh Wednesday, July 7, 1876, around midnight, Washington Coming from Pennsylvania Avenue, they had seen it in the distance. In the thickness ...

https://alarecherchedutempsperdu.over-blog.com/2022/09/chap.46.the-claddagh-ring-my-novel-the-boutique-robillard-my-gwtw-fanfiction.html