Importante note : the chapters 12 and 13 following this one with be rated "M". So if you don't want to read them, you might simply skipped to the futur chapter 14 and I'll tell you the information you have missed.
The story continues the same day of March 27th, ending at 10:00 p.m., at a new place, the Gentlemen's Club Haven.
March 27, 1875, 10 p.m., Charleston, Gentlemen's Club Haven
Duncan had just arrived at an imposing, white-painted, two-story Greek Renaissance mansion. The façade was decorated with an outer porch in the center, lined with eight fluted columns that rose higher than the first floor. The Corinthian capitals above the pillars were attached to an impressive triangular pediment that partially concealed the more modest windows on the second floor.
The front of the building had three large windows on either side on the first two levels. The depth of the sides of the house, with its many glass panels, suggested the large surface area of the rooms. At the back of the house, an outbuilding was added to house for the male and female staff.
In this elegant part of Charleston, such an opulent building was not uncommon. Yet it stood out from the other mansions.
On the bronze plaque, sealed to the gate surrounding the property, was engraved, "Gentlemen's Club Haven - Private Club. »
On the evening of March 27, 1875, Duncan Vayton had arranged to meet his friend John at this meeting place reserved exclusively for the gentlemen of Charleston and South Carolina's good society.
The association was openly elitist. Only the oldest families in South Carolina, the great bourgeois, the plantation owners, the shipowners whose ships anchored at the Battery, had their doors open, as did the philosophers, great intellectuals and scientists.
In order to prevent new rich vulgarians from intruding into this den of good taste, it was required, as in any Gentlemen's Club of English tradition*, that a member had been co-opted beforehand. Only then, after having paid his membership fee, the newcomer had the honour of becoming an official member of the Gentlemen's Club Haven.
As a member of Charleston's oldest family, Duncan didn't need to go through that formality. As he'd been accustomed to doing since birth, all doors opened right in front of him.
The young heir climbed the six steps leading to the porch. A heavy solid oak door led to the ground floor. He lifted the bronze knocker to signal his presence. A small door recessed in the leaf, protected by a wrought iron grille, opened on the impassive face of Andrew, the butler. In a quarter of a second, this stylish employee was able to identify all registered members. If a prospective visitor was not lucky enough to be one of them, Andrew would politely refuse him entry.
When he recognized the elegant gentleman with the blond mane, the old servant greeted him kindly and led him into the great hall.
The entrance to the Gentlemen's Club Haven was more like an atrium in its remarkable size and its four Corinthian pillars rising majestically in the middle of the room. The marble floor was covered with persian rugs to muffle the sound of footsteps. At the back, surrounding a wide staircase, two life-size bronze statues stood on their pedestals. One represented Lafayette, hero of the American Independence, sitting on his horse, sword in hand**; the other that of General Robert Edward Lee, Commander of the Confederate Armies. On each side of the atrium, a niche, built into the wall in the middle of the two panelled double doors, was lined with a marble statue of the two Greek goddesses Aphrodite and Hebe.
During his introduction to the Club, John had explained to his friend the privileges that the lucky members had, just like the Gentlemen's Club in New York, London or Paris.
"On the ground floor, the lounge on the left is reserved for relaxation, games, good cigars and the best liquor. I bet this is going to be your favorite place. I know you, you're like me! And it's not your experience with the Parisian follies that has changed you, my friend! "John backed up his remark with a pat on Duncan's back.
"Do you want to further your education? Needless to say, we both passed our exams with flying colors. Well, you more than me," he chuckled at Duncan's wry smile. "But we had fun, too. Remember that? " Restless nights as students came back in their minds.
John continued his guided tour, "If that is the case, the room on the right is for contemplation and knowledge. The walls are lined with mahogany bookcases filled with books from floor to ceiling. You can even pick out the collection stuck on the highest shelf, as you can use a moving escalator. The books are arranged by subject, of course, and I assure you that their eclecticism would make the largest public libraries blush with envy. From Latin grimoires from the 17th century with leather bindings scratched by time, to the latest scientific and technical magazines published in 1874, including Greek and Latin philosophical treatises, anthologies of poetry and English and French literature, there's enough to pass the time if you're bored." "Oh, I almost forgot," he said with a wink, "I recommend their collection of erotic novels from the 18th century ..."
"John, you haven't changed a bit! It's good to have you back. There's so much turmoil around me, I'm going to have a big job creating 'Duncan Fashion' here. But at least I'm sure I'll have my old friend - yes, we're both getting older - to do some fooling around, just like in the old days! »
John smiled with contentment at the prospect.
"Something else that might interest you, as I know you are fond of them: there are also beautiful lithographed plates on zoology and botany. »
"You have a good memory. It's true, technical drawing and precision in details have always interested me. No wonder, since that's what I'm creating with my models now. By the way, when I finish setting up my office at home, I'll show you some magnificent engravings by a Frenchman, dating from 1800, who specialized in the representation of animals. I have brought them back with me from Paris, and I shall have them framed. »
"Good idea. Well, I'll continue my explanation so you'll understand that the Haven is a little 'heaven', ah! ah!" John, as usual, laughed at his own joke.
"If you have the time, you should attend one of our conferences* where speakers come every month to enhance our philosophical discussions. The De Boulogne's occasionally invite writers from other American states or European authors. In short, there's plenty to keep your mind sharp. By the way, next month, I advise you to come with me because we're going to talk about the brand new invention called the "telephone" by a certain Alexander Graham Bell. What do you think? "Duncan, curious about any technical innovation, accepted the invitation.
John told his friend that the first floor was in keeping with the one in London: three rooms had been set up for visitors. To the right, a dining room hosted the monthly members' banquet*. This was an opportunity to talk business in a relaxed setting.
"This is the part where I have to reveal to you what the most luxurious privilege is for our little sibling. " John smirked at his friend.
Duncan, who wasn't naive, already had an idea. It was confirmed the minute his childhood friend spoke, "When you go up to the second floor, you often hit Nirvana! "John's eyes were increasingly laughing. "Welcome to the real 'Haven!»
The two men laughed heartily. "If you need a moment of recreation, the owner of the place allows us to entertain ourselves in charming company. And, I can assure you, the ladies are welcoming! "Young Paxton was pleased with his revelation. He knew Duncan Vayton was a great seducer, and that the subject would certainly interest him...
"Of course, this place too is reserved exclusively for our members, and allows us, in between discussions, to enjoy the joys of the flesh in complete privacy and safety. So, Duncan, if one day..." He looked at him naughtily.
Duncan returned the knowing smile. But he thought under his breath that he wouldn't need it. He couldn't tell John why, for a good reason...
As in Paris, he preferred the comfort of a relationship with a woman from his world, and without commitment. And he had just found her with Rebecca, John Paxton's sister. This arrangement fully satisfied him, as it seemed to please his childhood friend. The young man had a lot of tenderness for her. They had shared games, a few adolescent kisses. If he had stayed in Charleston, perhaps he would have married her - eventually, after a few years. But she probably wouldn't have wanted to wait for him, until he was finally ready to get married.
Besides, he still wasn't ready to get married. Oh no!
This relationship was so natural and unencumbered! Though a true southern lady, the young woman had been so locked in binding and unpleasant ties with her late husband that now she wanted to breathe and flourish in her situation as a free young widow, in complete discretion. And she had found Duncan.
The impetuous man was pleased with their pleasant lovemaking, interspersed with laughter and displays of affection. "Friendly sex! "Duncan concluded with a wry smile.
"No! Decidedly, I don't need the girls of the Gentlemen's Haven! »
That Saturday, March 27, Duncan was ready for a good night out with friends. He opened the door on the left. He was beginning to like the place.
The space was grandiose and occupied the entire left side of the ground floor. The only separating markings between the different activities were the famous Greek-inspired columns that were present throughout the ground floor.
Duncan glanced appreciatively around the club's main room. Wisps of smoke rose in puffs from all sides. But the place was so spacious that it did little to dampen the atmosphere.
At the back, a French billiard table from the Charles X period, dating from 1825, sat like a jewel with its maple and rosewood marquetry belt. A bronze chandelier with two large green opaline shades illuminated the felt carpet.
Game tables were scattered against the windows. Card games were favoured, as in any male establishment. Other tables with folded tops were decorated with an inlaid chess board.
Chesterfield-style leather armchairs and sofas were often occupied by Club members who came to relax in friendly company.
A waiter reacted at the snap of a finger to bring cigars and drinks to the players in action. Round side tables, with marble tops and lion claw center legs, were perfectly suited for small snacks and intimate discussions between Club members.
John was seated at one of the tables. He called to his friend to join him.
After hugging him, Duncan told his friend : "I'm enjoying this place more and more. You know, it reminds me of my years in Paris. When I was homesick, when I missed the sweetness of life in the Old South, and especially when I was tired of being surrounded by those talkative, exuberant, boastful French people, well, I was happy to recharge my batteries in the Anglo-Saxon atmosphere of a gentlemen's club in a residential area of Paris. When I pushed the door open, I found myself transported to London. Even the smell was no longer Parisian. It was English tobacco. The conversations were slow. Imagine, in my melancholy moments, I missed the stale atmosphere of Charleston! "Duncan added, remembering those not-so-distant days.
"You, melancholic? When you could be enjoying life in Paris? You amaze me, Duncan. "Then, turning his chest to point to a man slumped in a chair at the back of the room, "Look! He is the one really melancholic. That's an understatement. I've never seen him like this. Usually he's got a great way with words and a smart joke. Mostly he's the best poker player in the Club, in Charleston, and probably in all of South Carolina. »
Duncan looked at the man who was clutching his glass like a buoy. John continued: "The ace of poker finally had to leave the table tonight, so drunk he couldn't string three cards together without shaking. We were stunned to see him like that. I was told that he arrived early in the evening in a very bad mood and went on a poker and whiskey binge. He's been picking quarrels with everybody. He's been slumped in the chair ever since. Maybe I should go and talk to him and ask him what's wrong. "Duncan's friend was a generous, caring boy. Even though he wasn't friends with the poker player, the display of sadness bothered him.
In a voice of surprise, Duncan replied, "That's my neighbor at the Magnolias' Mansion, Rhett Butler. I only met him once. He was quite a braggart that day. Obviously, that's not the case tonight."
John knew his name, but not his close ties to the Vaytons. "He's spent hours drinking since he arrived. I doubt if he can put one step in front of the other. You know, I've heard plenty of gossip about him. »
Of course, the Club had a rule of confidentiality between members. But, John had no qualms about blabbing because he had complete confidence in his childhood playmate.
Duncan perked up his ears. He didn't mind knowing a little more about the former blockade breaker.
"As you must know, since they are your neighbors, he comes from one of the best families in Charleston. But he's a troublemaker. His father kicked him out of the house when he was less than twenty years old. Something about a girl he refused to marry because he came home too late with her, an honor denied... You know, things like that... "
Duncan could see very well, and understood Rhett's refusal to be trapped in a forced marriage. "I probably would have done the same," he admitted to himself.
"That's all in the past! "he said to his friend. He did not want to take Rhett Butler's side, but he was aware of the snobbery and conformist straitjacket imprisoning members of good society who wanted to rebel.
"I agree with you," said young Paxton. He had been away from our town for years and only returned when his father died. From what I've heard-and there's gossip about him-he lived in Georgia, in Atlanta. And then he lost a child at a young age, which broke him completely. It's understandable. »
Duncan felt a pang of concern for his battered neighbor. To lose a little girl at such a young age... The young Vayton, who had never been a father, could still see how such a tragedy could be devastating.
He thought aloud, "I understand he's drowning in alcohol. »
John did not seem convinced by this explanation: "You know, he is far from being a saint. As for his professional activities, I don't know. On the other hand, I've heard persistent rumors about his scandalous life in Atlanta. »
"Gossip or reality? "The owner of the Magniolas' Mansion was never fond of unfounded gossip.
"I can assure you that these are real facts because they have been confirmed by several sources. Your neighbor was part owner of the most famous brothel in Atlanta! Not only that, he was sleeping - worse, partially living - with the madam, publicly in full view of his lawful wife! »
Duncan was stunned. "Your revelations are explosive, John. Yes, I must admit that he looks a lot less honorable to me in that light. A brothel owner and cuckolding his wife in public... Bravo, Mr. Butler. Nothing to be proud of. »
John the generous, did not want to overwhelm the poor man completely. Perhaps it wasn't so simple after all!
He said to Duncan, "From what I've heard, he's not entirely to blame for this. At least not in his marriage. There have been other rumors, just as scandalous, about his wife. She wouldn't have been very faithful, either. »
"What are you saying? That they were an unconventional couple, like I met in Paris? »
With a doubtful pout, his friend said, "I'm not sure. But she was allegedly having an affair for a long time with her brother-in-law. Now, as to whether the rumor was true... Anyway, it doesn't matter anymore, because he has since divorced her. It's been a year or two, I don't know. To conclude, this divorce went viral in the good society of Atlanta, and Rhett Butler moved back in with his mother! »
At the same time, Rhett stood up, as best he could. He walked past them without even looking at them, staggered to the door and walked out.
After he left the room, John finished his story by saying, "Maybe he's in this state because his divorce shook him up. He might have regrets, who knows? His wife was, according to all the men who came in contact with her and the gossip that ran all the way to Charleston, of a fiery temperament and exceptional beauty! »
Duncan Vayton thought, "I'd be curious to meet this beauty who's wiped out the blockade-breaker! »
Notes on Chapter 11 :
*Gentlemen's club in the 19th century: the services described (elitism, co-option, membership, games, library, lectures, dinner (like the "Sublime Society of Steaks" in London), rooms for visitors), are in accordance with the descriptions of the English clubs of that time. However, of course, the services provided on the second floor are just part of my novel;-)
**Equestrian statue of La Fayette, in Paris, Cours la Reine.
Disclaimers : I do not own the story and characters of Gone with the Wind which belong to Margaret Mitchell. The "world" of Duncan Vayton and Blanche Bonsart are my creation.