Note: Hello! Eventually, after one month of research on Washington in 1876, here are the second part of the trip to Washington. I wanted to end the day - and night inside this chapter. BUT I discovered a special attraction in a theater for Rhett and Scarlett... So you'll read it in the next chapter, within 15 days this time hopefully.
Thank you so much for reading my story, posting your comments - I love all of them - and favorite my story. It is sweet :-)
Chapter 44. "To the Willard, Please!"
July 6, 1876, on the Piedmont Air Line train
The train stopped. Rhett glanced at his watch on the nightstand: 3:04 a.m. exactly; the Richmond and Danville Railroad Company's schedules were on time: Greensboro, North Carolina (*1)
He studied the noises around him: the slamming of doors, the hurried steps of passengers getting off the cars followed by those boarding the Piedmont Air Line, whispered words so as not to disturb the quietude of the sleeping passengers, the rolling of carts carrying luggage, and finally the closing of the exits covered by the whistle of the locomotive signaling departure.
And then again the progressive hum of the wheels sliding on the rails.
This interlude of agitation was only a slight distraction from Rhett's feverish ramblings.
He was hot. He had discarded his pajamas. But the coolness of the linen sheets was a poor balm for his burning skin.
Burning with a heat other than the temperate one of his room.
He stood up and poured himself a glass of water from the carafe buried in a champagne bucket filled with ice.
It was too tempting: without thinking, he ran a finger over the carved wooden wall.
Behind, just behind, was the headboard of his neighbor for the day.
He concentrated, trying to ignore the methodical hissing of the convoy's wheels: listening for a breath, for the rustle of a sheet, for a whisper perhaps...
Nothing. Wearily, he decided to go back to bed.
It was once again the few minutes spent in Scarlett's room that paraded in his head, by a succession of images, moans, and sensations that clashed, depriving him of all sleep and making him turn over on the sheet.
Eventually, he was on the verge to reach the goal of his life, his Grail, Scarlett's body, and heart! With nervousness, his body gesticulated in all directions, as frantically as his tormented mind. He was shivering with frustration, then, the next moment was sweating with unfulfilled desire.
Only the recourse to the solitary pleasures ended up calming him for a time. Just a short time because the sensation of Scarlett's nipples under his fingers was starting to drive him crazy again.
Mad of impatience, mad of vigor, mad of envy to feel her under him, in her. To form only one with her.
Another stop. He heard the stationmaster call out, "North Danville, Virginia". It must have been 5:20. This night was endless.
Rhett became upset. If he arrived in Washington tired, the fighting spirit he would need to dazzle his belle might run out before the evening was over.
He was up well before the train passed through the Lynchburg station at 8:15.
George was in charge of filling the tub.
Lounging in the water did him a world of good after the… excitement of the night.
He took the time to think about what would happen when she woke up.
After last night's events, it was unimaginable that everything would go back to the way it was, since their divorce - since Vayton. To convince himself of this, he concentrated on the memory of their hurried breaths, her lustful undulations against him...
It was a bad idea, because he ended up being eaten by desire again. Was he going to be able to hold out until tonight? Because it was absolutely necessary that this evening...
He closed his eyes. In ecstasy…
ooooOOoooo
Clean-shaven, dressed in precious fabrics in accordance with the important men who frequent the privileged political spheres, he was ready to impress their interlocutor at the White House - and in passing and especially, the always so Belle of Clayton County.
He was reading his newspaper when Jenny signaled to enter the car and join Scarlett in her bedroom.
Then he heard a few brief commands followed by divine sounds to his ears. The rustling of delicate chemises and petticoats was unleashing his imagination. How he had missed the closeness of her intimacy! Even when he had been driven out of her bed, it sometimes happened to him to watch, by lingering knowingly in the corridor, the slightest noises signaling that she had just woken up.
Then Jenny left the car again, assuring that the breakfast tray would be there shortly. Rhett had not waited for the sleeping beauty to take his, knowing her propensity to stay curled up in the sheets when her busy schedule allowed.
When he heard her light step and the door opened, his heartbeat quickened. What was she going to say? How should he behave? Could he take her in his arms? Could he kiss her?
He held his breath because she was... simply breathtaking, her curly hair flowing freely over her shoulders, framing her pearly face. Like a diaphanous apparition straight out of his dreams, floating straight towards him.
Or rather to the table.
She had taken care to close well her robe of deep green taffeta. But the ivory belt was sufficiently broad to mark the vertiginous curve of her waist. No less tempting was the birth of her bustier with its collar in "V" bordered by a cascade of transparent flounces. He caught a glimpse of, in the lower half-open of her bed dress, her nightgown of an immaculate white, which, in its glittering, had to be in silk. So definitely not that one of yesterday evening. For good reason: he had ruined it.
He stood up immediately, smiling broadly, and pretended to approach her. In two words, he tried to modulate the tenderness that was just waiting to overflow: "Good morning, Scarlett!"
Without looking at him, she sat down and politely answered him with a neutral "Good morning, Rhett."
The latter frowned. At first sight, it looked like the time was not for an embrace.
George placed the heavy silver tray on the embroidered tablecloth as Scarlett looked on and took inventory of the specialties concocted by the Delmonico's restaurant. Reciting for the thousandth time the same text since he had been on duty at the Pullman Palace Sleeping Cars, he presented the dishes with gusto: "We offer a variety of side dishes like grilled toasts, soft warm cookies, a cake with confit grapes and some milk buns. They are accompanied by fir tree honey, citrus marmalade, as well as wood raspberry or morello cherry jams." He lifted the two silver covers preserving the heat of the dishes, "Here are some pancakes with maple syrup. I recommend the Chef's omelet with morels and boletus, cooked with ham inside a particularly tasty crust. Our fruits, peaches, pears and apples, are perfectly ripe. I added a jug of squeezed orange. Would you prefer coffee or tea?"
She opted for coffee, which he served in a china bowl stamped with the GP arms like the entire tableware. "I hope you enjoy your meal, Mrs. Butler!" With that, he withdrew.
Rhett filled a cup of hot coffee and waited. For what? Her first word. A sign that something had changed.
But nothing.
She lifted the silver covers. But she immediately closed them, breaking her sacrosanct habit of choosing hearty dishes to start the day.
"The mushroom omelet is excellent. I devoured one this morning. Are you sure you won't be tempted?" He had been careful to abandon the teasing tone he was fond of when he used to compliment her on her good fork stroke.
She replied flatly, "I am not hungry." This in itself did worry him. He began to generously spread the milk buns - the ones she had always favored in the past, alternating sweet toppings.
She continued to crumble her grilled toast with an absent-minded look.
So he intimated to her in a firm voice, "Eat!" When she still did not respond, he relented: "Please eat, Scarlett. You need to build up your strength for this afternoon because, between both meetings at the White House and with the accountants, you will need energy." As he said this, he had gently placed his hand on hers.
She promptly withdrew it as if he had burned it, and, for the first time since the night before, looked him straight in the eye, "I do not miss energy."
This confused him even more.
Eventually, she condescended to silently start taking some bites of the tasty bread he had prepared for her.
He took the opportunity to observe her - or rather, he had to admit it to himself, to eat her with his eyes.
Her complexion was without blush, without that red powder she liked to apply to her cheekbones to make herself look good. But why would a skin like hers need an artifice? Her cheeks were naturally rosy from the lingering heat of sleep. And her mouth... My God! Her mouth! Red as a blooming rose bathed in the early morning dew. That he had the irresistible desire to crush under his own. He moistened his lips with greed.
Would he dare to kiss her? In other times, he would not have hesitated. Especially after what had happened between them only a few hours ago. His body was so close to hers, both sitting around the pedestal table.
Unable to restrain himself anymore, he leaned toward her to embrace her.
Immediately, she plastered herself back against the back of her chair to avoid him.
He contorted his eyebrows in incomprehension at this reversal of her behavior from the day before.
After long seconds, she placed her cutlery on the plate and lightly dabbed her lips with her napkin. Then she looked at him.
Rhett saw two green lakes, as clear as he could have reflected in them. He knew those eyes well: when she was under the spell of very sweet emotion. She had had them sometimes for Bonnie. Sometimes. Often when she looked at Ashley, thinking that he, Rhett, did not notice. Very rarely for him at the beginning of their marriage, in a moment of abandonment. So rarely... But that green water also betrayed a sign of fatigue or dismay.
He held his breath.
"Rhett, I would like to set the record straight." If her tone was a bit unsteady at first, she asserted herself: "What happened last night can have no other interpretation than a movement of weakness due to too many years of abstinence on my part. For which I was partly - but only partly - responsible. My body betrayed me, but that is probably because Duncan awakened my... aching senses. And that is an understatement. It will not happen again. Soon I'll be joining him, and we will get married. For you, that moment of distraction was only a question of caresses without consequences among so many others, lavished to so many others. For my part, even if you have challenged my veracity in the past, I have always been faithful to my commitments."
Stunned by her words that sounded like wrecked hopes, his resentment broke through under a small cruel sneer.
She was not fooled by its meaning. A little more coldly this time, she said, "Physically faithful. With Frank, with you, and I shall do the same with Duncan. That being said, since we have reunited, I shall concede that our relationship has improved to the point where it is beginning to resemble what it was before our disastrous marriage, which was friendship. I would like if you agree, for it to continue."
She straightened up, and inhaled deeply as if she had just freed herself from a heavyweight. She concluded more lightly: "Rhett, haven't you missed our conversations? I have! I am realizing that now. You have always been my best confidant - the only one, in fact - to whom I can confess the most... unmentionable things. And your stories of old rogue overstepping the law - and decency - have always delighted me, you know that. So, let's start off on the right foot. Shall we?"
Since she had opened her mouth, he had shoved his hands in his pockets so she would not notice his knuckles clenched so tightly that they would crack. She had just sentenced him to death. For what is life without hope of winning Scarlett's heart?
Two solutions were open to him: the most obvious and pragmatic, that of turning the page, as he had decided when he left her in September 1873. And to hell with her "friendship"! She would only have to rely on Vayton to make her laugh... Their relations with the Foundation would be regular but formal and would always take place in the presence of the accountants. He would never set foot in Atlanta again. Although he would also be deprived of Ella and Wade - which Vayton would be quick to take over.
Yes," he said to himself as she was resuming her nibbling to give herself a good countenance, "my path of survival is all mapped out. It is the right decision to make.
A coughing fit interspersed with febrile breathing brought him abruptly out of his reasonable thoughts.
Scarlett had become pallid! With one hand, she was holding her chest, with the other she was clutching the tablecloth so strongly to make the dishes on the tray shake.
He understood immediately what was happening. She had just choked on her food.
Devoured by anguish, he got up to support her.
He had all the difficulties to stammer orders so much he had the insane impression to suffocate himself, the functioning of his body being confused with her own. "Spit, Scarlett! Spit!"
Which she did painfully into the towel he was handing her, but it did not calm her down. Should he give her water? Or pat her back? He was stunned with terror. If her heart stopped, his would stop in symbiosis.
He put his face inches from hers and forced himself to hide the panic that made his legs shake. "Scarlett, look at me. Look at me, Scarlett. Match your breath to mine. My love, look at me..."
His pleas finally managed to get her attention. Intertwining his fingers with hers, he put the other hand on her chest to calm the beating of her heart. Then he began to inhale strongly to expire, while taking well care to imprison, to block her eyes so that she made abstraction of all, that she was conscious only of him, and that her breathing put itself in the rhythm of his. (*2)
Between two synchronized breaths, he would reassure her with soft words - "There! There! That's right, my darling. Breathe in. Look at me. That's my good girl. My brave little girl."
Until finally her breath became regular again, and the panic fled her beautiful wet eyes.
She had continued to keep their fingers intertwined, and placed her other hand against Rhett's as he checked her heartbeat.
It was only at that moment that Rhett felt as if the world was starting to spin again. He cradled her head against his vest, alternating little taps of encouragement on her shoulder, strokes in her hair, and kisses on her closed eyelids.
She let herself be pampered for a few minutes, to finally end their embrace.
Sketching a small smile, she thanked him.
She drank a glass of water. Her cheeks slowly regained their color.
"That damn confit raisin cake almost got the reason of me!"
Relieved that she was out of danger, he teased her: "I am pleased to see that you have just found a new scapegoat to vent your frustrations on, if only a harmless British cake. It is a sign of your recovery that you are once again able to be witty with your play on raisin and reason. How glad I am to have you back, my delightful Scarlett!"
Had she realized how his voice was nothing but tender and gentle? Rhett himself was not aware that his inhibitions had magically disappeared with the emotional shock.
He pressed the button related to the office. "What better way to regain your strength than to enjoy a hot bath with scented oil! Jenny will prepare it, and you can luxuriate in the water to recover from your emotions."
No sooner had he finished his sentence than the maid appeared.
He remained beside the young woman, distracting her with amusing and superficial little gossip until the employee reported that "Madam's bath is ready."
Jenny had left, indicating that she would wait for Madam's orders to do her hair and help her dress.
Rhett poured himself a glass of whiskey and settled into a chair.
These violent emotions are no longer my age! - he laughed at himself retrospectively, following the smoke curls escaping from his cigar. One fact is certain: my heart almost stopped with hers. So why pretend that I can start a new life without her? She'll be under my skin until I die. And if there is an afterlife, I will probably break down all the doors of hell, purgatory, and even heaven, where my Bonnie is no doubt protected by Mellie, to bring her back to me.
His nails scratched the velvet of the armrest. A poor way to try to control himself. Knowing that, only a few feet away from him, she was completely naked in the bathtub...
No, Scarlett! I will never be satisfied with being your "friend". I'll make you tremble with pleasure against me again...
ooooOOoooo
After a good meal where Scarlett made up for her morning's diet - under Rhett's watchful eye for the slightest cough - they finally arrived in Washington at 3:45 p.m., as planned.
Once on the platform of the Baltimore & Potomac Railroad Station, as usual, Rhett watched the admiring gazes of the men as Scarlett passed. He held her firmly by the arm, with a mixture of pride and possessiveness.
He had congratulated her on her new outfit: "How classy!"
She rewarded him for his compliment with a pirouette, dragging with her petticoat of multiple organza ruffles with tight folds so sophisticated that they alone had required hours and hours of work. The subtle layering of airy fibers had the effect of imitating the waves breaking on the shore with its short train. The front of the ivory underskirt showed the same delicate work with the application of three large pleated ribbons falling from the belt. The dress, consisting of a short bustier cut in the bevel on the belly, accentuate, even more, the fall of the hips by falling in the back, by a clever cutting, in two wings of swallows, stopping right on the organdy folds. (*3). She had fun making them rise by turning with agility - and with years of experience to parade with coquetry.
"I love the fine brocade braid with violets surrounding the iridescent white damask of the dress. And those refreshing purple ribbons joining each wing on either side... Duncan has the talent of the great artist knowing how to renew himself with each model."
Again Duncan, always Duncan... Rhett came close to shooting down the work of the so-called "Prince of Fashion. But he was careful not to. Firstly, as a strategy, because he had to play the role of the trusted friend and fashion advisor that he had always been with Scarlett, and secondly, because she was adorable in this set.
"I would be tempted to question the appropriateness of the virginal white tunic worn by a seductress such as yourself, but it must be said that the combination of the three colors, coupled with this original cut, is the very symbol of the refinement of a Southern Grande Dame as she is fantasized by the Democrats in Washington. You are going to wreak havoc, My Dear! Ready to storm the White House!"
Her deepened dimples and a final pirouette betrayed her satisfaction at being flattered by the greatest lover of fashion... worn on women's bodies.
She detailed around her the vast waiting rooms and a restaurant inside the station, "Everything looks freshly painted."
"Indeed. The Baltimore & Potomac Railroad Station was built just four years ago. When we get outside, you will see its Victorian architecture and tower." (*4)
As he spoke to her, he found what he was looking for, a man holding a sign that read "Mr. and Mrs. Butler, Hotel Willard. He called out to him to get him to come closer.
"Our driver is here. I have hired his services until we leave tomorrow afternoon. He will follow us wherever we go. It's one of the privileges of some of the hotel's guests - at least its wealthy guests."
This one introduced himself: "Watson, at your service!"
They followed him out of the building and Rhett helped Scarlett into the car while Watson loaded the luggage brought by the porter.
The one who had spent her childhood frolicking on the dirt of the country paths opened her eyes wide as she realized the impressive width of the road.
"We are on Pennsylvania Avenue, which is in the heart of Washington, between the White House and the Capitol. I shall show you a glimpse of it later. But first, let's discover our hotel."
With a brief command: "Watson, to the Willard, please!"
The driver nodded, "We'll be there in two minutes since the station is only a few blocks from the hotel."
The size of the Willard was impressive, spanning the corner of Pennsylvania Avenue and 14e Street and stretching the entire block to F Street. It was not a one-story building, but rather an addition of six-story buildings with restaurants and stores on the first floor. (*5)
As soon as she passed through the reception area, Scarlett appreciated the atmosphere of luxury and comfort that the place exuded.
Rhett and Scarlett made their way to the lobby. The concierge welcomed "Mr. and Mrs. Butler," "Thomas will guide you to your presidential suite on the second floor."
Scarlett widened her eyes, "Presidential suite?"
As the baggage handler busied himself loading the suitcases onto a small cart, Rhett responded - in part - to her astonishment, "Until today, the Willard was famous as the 'home of the Presidents.' In those comfortable leather chairs in this parlor, rested Franklin Pierce, and the newly elected Abraham Lincoln just before his inauguration in 1861. All the way to Ulysses Grant, whose favorite pastime has been smoking his cigar while watching the work of the lobbyists! During the Civil War, one journalist even wrote that the Willard should be considered the epicenter of Washington and the Union, rather than the Capitol, the White House, or the State Department, because the entire political, military, intellectual and journalistic elite gravitated there. (*6)
"If I am summarizing your eulogy correctly, you have decided to make me sleep in a former Yankee den!" She says it in jest. Only partly, because incidentally, flashes of memories of that cruel war would arise, only to fade away at once.
He enjoyed her belligerent humor with a mocking pout: "I have no doubt that, after we leave, the suite we are going to occupy will no longer be called 'Abraham Lincoln' because he stayed there, but probably 'Mrs. Scarlett Butler's Suite."
"About that..." She did not have time to argue about the last name as the waiter invited them to follow him.
As soon as they arrived in their suite, a maid introduced herself, and Scarlett asked her to hang up her clothes and iron her evening dress. She took the opportunity to check her hair and readjust the small white damask hat that matched the dress. Duncan's milliner had done a masterful job of interspersing the composition of tiny glass beaded violets with purple feathers. She wondered from what faraway land such exotic birds covered in amethyst plumage came.
Satisfied, she checked her setting in front of the mirror while depositing an ounce of perfume at the birth of her throat. Rhett's shadow was reflected there. As their glances crossed, he seemed to leave his reverie:
"We still have three-quarters of an hour before our 5 p.m. appointment. Enough time for me to show you around the Mall."
ooooOOoooo
Watson ordered his horses to slow down so that his clients could admire their surroundings.
On the next block, they passed a majestic building with Greco-Roman-inspired columns. "This is the Treasury Department," Rhett said.
This did not affect for the slightest the day-tripper, who preferred to scan the rows of two- and three-story Federal-style houses that lined Pennsylvania Avenue. Every first floor was occupied by stalls that unfolded their colorful canvas awnings.
"Oh, there are some tempting business signs. Can we stop and have a look? It will only take a few minutes."
Rhett laughed at such bad faith: "I am afraid your sense of time is not the same here. But, no impatience! You will have all morning tomorrow to blow up my bank account."
She looked at him sideways, ready to pounce, "I beg your pardon, Miss O'Hara. This is about your bank account, of course!"
Scarlett judged that he had sufficiently understood the message, and looked curiously at this city she had heard so much about.
They found themselves on the banks of the Potomac River. Then a huge monument stood before them.
"Meet the George Washington Monument!"
"This, a monument? If it weren't for the height, it would look more like a construction site with a sawmill chimney that was sloppily finished."
Rhett winked at her, "Your knowledge of architecture never ceases to amaze me. I really regret not having taken you with me to Egypt. Although you are partly right: this tower is supposed to resemble an Egyptian obelisk to evoke the timelessness of ancient civilizations, as a tribute from the American nation to its founder. But it has been more than twenty years since its construction was frozen, due to lack of funding, in the middle of its erection. The work stopped when it reached 130 or 150 feet. But perhaps it is in honor of your arrival in this city - or more prosaically because Congress has finally decided to raise public funds - that it will finally resume. This explains the still deserted site with its piles of materials. The architects have planned to make it the highest building in the world with its 590 feet. (*7)
Scarlett remained skeptical about the artistic qualities of this crazy venture. So much money for this? But she was careful not to share her comment with the "Egyptologist" that Rhett had become in a trick.
The carriage was heading back east.
"Here is something that should please you better: the Smithsonian Institute."
It was an imposing red sandstone building in Gothic style.
"With its turrets, it looks like a castle."
"That's how Washingtonians call it. Perhaps a princess is watching from the top of the ramparts for the return of her Prince Charming? Unless this one has been locked up in the dungeon by another prince, jealous that the couple of lovers are together again... "
"You're showing a teenage imagination, Rhett Butler!" she laughed. She really looked happy : "What a beautiful day! It's not too hot, and I must admit that this walk in the open air is quite pleasant after being cooped up in the train."
Satisfied that she was enjoying his role as an impromptu tour guide, he pointed to three large white domes, "That is the Washington Botanical Garden."
"I wonder if Duncan has ever visited it. Probably, since he continues his father's tradition. Aymeric Vayton has erected a magnificent greenhouse at Soft South. I should better name it the most original conservatory in the Old South!"
As he used to every time he happened to hear his rival's name, Rhett became irritated: "Since when have you been interested in flora? Did you find out last Tuesday when he showed you his plantation? That famous day..."
He did not say more, but it burned his lips to add: that famous day when he put a ring on your finger...
Scarlett pretended not to detect his sudden sourness. "Since you are going to be in charge of two museums, you would be amazed at the fountain and the stained glass window under the dome - a new style inspired by the sinuosities of vegetation, if I remember his explanation correctly. Duncan designed both artworks to please his father, and had them made by French artists, according to his plans. Unfortunately, the poor man never had the opportunity to see them because he died before Duncan returned from Europe. He would have been delighted by them emphasizing the splendor of his "little paradise" of Soft South, for they are a true ode to camellias. In fact, there are camellias everywhere, especially white and red ones. Your eyes have to catch them because they are so prominent among the vegetation. According to him, it was his father's passion. If I were a bad tongue - which I am not, of course - I would conclude that this passion turned into an obsession."
Rhett remained silent, not even seeing fit to pick up on the little bit of humor she was throwing at him. Therefore, she preferred to close the subject.
At his client's request, Watson hailed the two horses to stop.
Jumping quickly out of the buggy, he took his passenger's elbow: "The Capitol is waiting for you, Madam!" and took her in his arms to put her down on the ground.
Scarlett was stunned, overwhelmed by the gigantism of the immaculate palace. "What debauchery of Greek columns! And that dome! It makes you feel tiny next to it."
She pulled the bottom of her dress up a bit more, hooking the hem to a hook on a higher level to allow her more freedom of movement, and energetically took Rhett's hand, "Come on! Let's climb up! I want to enjoy the view at the top of Capitol Hill."
Carried away by her enthusiasm, he followed her, taken under the spell of her youthful joy. A child who gambols up and down the hills of Tara, he said to himself, touched.
When they reached the top of the last stair, he was panting a little.
With the cruelty of a fit young woman, she burst out laughing as she mocked, "So, Rhett Butler, your old bones no longer hold up?"
Her cheeks were flushed with excitement. Red apples you would want to bite into...
Stimulated by this challenge to prove to this conquering beauty his good shape as a middle-aged man, he took her by the waist and embraced her brutally before she could react.
"Don't provoke me too much, Miss O'Hara. Otherwise I'll show you that an old blockade breaker still has enough breath left to make you lose yours - all the way to the end of the night."
The intoxication of feeling her heat radiating against his shirt, the perfume of her skin mixed with that of the gardenia which bewitched him, made him lose all measure.
Forgetting that they were exposed to the eyes of all the passers-by admiring the Capitol, he brutally stuck her against him so that she guesses between her skirt the vigor of his ardent desire.
"No whippersnapper your age will be able to capsize you like your old husband."
She tried to push him away with all her strength with her fists clenched against his shoulders. It was a lost cause because his muscular arms imprisoned her like talons. All the more so as her body was abandoning her, seeming to disassociate itself from her mind and the imperative need to stop this numbness of the senses - and this crazy sensation of floating above cottony clouds when they were simply at the top of the Capitol hill.
The hoarse voice, combined with his violence, accelerated the beating of the young woman's heart. The shocking and disturbing evidence of his desire against her pelvis made her tremble, so much so that she clung to his jacket not to falter. Like last night, without her being able to have any control over her own body, she bent purposely towards him.
Their breaths rushed in unison.
Not releasing his grip, he took her chin with his thumb and index fingers so that their mouths were only a few inches on the other.
Nothing else existed but his dilated eyes, as black as the abyss she was falling into.
Barely audible because the tone was so low, she recognized this sentence, with a vague reminiscence: "Look at me, Scarlett!"
She had a second of hesitation, so much she was distraught that he could read there what he had so much sought - and what it was absolutely necessary not to release.
It was during this time interstice that two mature women, who had started to climb the steps of Parliament, shouted together an outraged "Oh!" at the decadent picture of a couple in compromising posture. They quickly scurried away with noisy movements of their skirts from this hallucinating display of debauchery.
This brought Scarlett back to earth and made her realize the obscenity of their public embrace. Oh, my God! What has happened? Mother would disown me. She would be so ashamed of me... Duncan... He is the man who is allowed to kiss me! He is the man I am going to marry. And not Rhett, never again Rhett for whom I am only an object of desire.
Chasing away the very reality of this madness that had taken them, she pushed him away firmly with both her arms.
They struggled to catch their breath. Scarlett's cheeks were on fire. Rhett was haggard. He discreetly readjusted his outfit.
To help them regain their senses, they pretended to be interested in the view that lay before them.
At the end of Pennsylvania Avenue, one could see the outline of the White House, on the left the white domes of the botanical garden nested in the middle of the vegetation, and in the background the top of the castle towers. But the Washington monument was hardly visible. (*8)
The only way to let them forget this insanity was to resume a harmless conversation.
Scarlett was the first to regain her composure. Her initially unsure voice stabilized as the commentary progressed: "From here, this Pennsylvania Avenue is ridiculously wide compared to the small buildings that border it. And how bare the area around the Capitol is! Except for these two big sandstone planters and this statue of George Washington who seems to come out of his bath, placed at the bottom of the steps, there is no ornamentation. It is gloomy, to say the least" (*9)
Rhett had taken advantage of this contemplative digression to regain control of his emotions.
"Your caustic criticism of statuary art should be all the rage if you decide to write newspaper columns because you hit the nail on the head: this statue of Greenough is mocked by the entire community because equipping the great man with Greek-style sandals is frankly ridiculous. As for the desert landscape around us, there are plans to put up "majestic" decorations, as the project's architect put it. In a year or two, when we return to this place, you will be able to see the transformations."
She responded to this last projection in time with a raised eyebrow. Rhett preferred not to interpret it as a sign of skepticism about the likelihood of both of us traveling into the future.
"Let's go back to the hotel. It is almost five o'clock. We are expected."
ooooOOoooo
Just before entering the meeting room that he had reserved for this meeting, Rhett gently caressed the top of her hand: "It will be a child's play for you to impress them. Especially since you have all the cards in hand since you know their little weaknesses." he whispered in her ear. Indeed, the day before, he had shown her the records sheets that he had elaborated on those who were going to administer the rich foundation. What better way to ensure the loyalty and obedience of his team than to know the little foibles, weaknesses, and hidden vices of its members?
Eight men stood up and respectfully greeted the appearance of the couple.
"Mrs. O'Hara, this is the legal and accounting team that has been hired to assist you. They will follow your instructions to the letter and be accountable to you for their actions."
Then turning to the businessmen, who were unusually intimidated by this gracious appearance, he said, "Gentlemen, I would like to introduce the President of the Bonnie Blue Butler Arts Museums Foundation Management Fund. Mrs. O'Hara's exceptional qualities as an accomplished businesswoman, combined with her extensive experience in staff management and accountancy, are our guarantee of success. She will lead the foundation with a masterful hand. I count on you to follow her orders scrupulously."
If Scarlett was moved by the outpouring of compliments coming out of the mouth of the man who had spent the last fifteen years criticizing her, she did not show it.
Then the eight men named each other in turn, specifying their precise duties.
When she spoke, they were surprised, for sure, by the antagonism between the frail figure symbolizing the paroxysm of fragile femininity, with the firm and determined tone of their superior.
"Gentlemen, thank you for coming to Washington today. Our meeting will be brief, but I wanted to make sure that the first contact is between all of you, as an entity. Thereafter, our meetings in Atlanta will be scheduled every three months, depending on the topics on the agenda and the budget items under consideration. I want to be clear," - her emerald eyes looked, one by one, at the poor employees who were feeling as small as Frank when he had to face his wife's tantrums - "I shall demand of you what has always been my rule in business: the best of your skills and unwavering integrity to the Foundation, Mr. Butler, and to me, for one purpose: to ensure its success - which is our success. Your task is summed up in one sentence: to skillfully control costs and optimize investments and profits. Each month, you will send me a three-page summary report of your numerical achievements for the month and proposals for investments and disbursements. When we meet in Atlanta, you will present me with the books of account and proposed investment contracts. Mr. Butler has assured me that you are the best in your respective fields. I am confident that you will demonstrate this brilliantly."
She had finished the last sentence by injecting an ounce of flattery, to soften the sharp demands of her speech. Satisfied with the result, she gave them her most attractive business smile and concluded, "Gentlemen, I have enjoyed this meeting. Unfortunately, Mr. Butler and I must end it because the White House awaits us."
With that, she bowed her head slightly as a signal to leave, while her eight employees lost themselves in bows and courtesies.
Rhett took her arm, and she left the room as majestically as a queen, as the men watched in awe.
Rhett waited until they were far enough away to take her chin so she noticed his eyes sparkle with pride, "You were brilliant, Scarlett. Just as I expected. Here are eight more poor men who will become frustrated for life that they don't own a gem like you!"
This eloquent gesture in public did not surprise the hotel bellman they passed: Mr. and Mrs. Butler were, without a doubt, a couple in love.
Playing with the fluttering of her eyelashes while not fleeing one millimeter from the two glowing black fires, she replied, "No man owns me, Rhett Butler."
And she left him stranded in the middle of the hallway.
"What a woman!" he could not help but notice aloud.
oooOOooo
A few minutes to freshen up, a short drive of a few blocks, and multiple security checkpoints opened after showing their credentials, they finally found themselves, at 6 p.m. sharp, inside the White House.
Scarlett took great care to conceal her anxiety at being propelled into this symbolic center of power in the United States of America. She who, only half an hour ago, had been parading like a queen in front of her lackeys, felt like the little country girl Mammy used to scold for soiling the hem of her dress as she pranced through the muddy fields.
But in no way should Rhett be made aware of her weakness! He, sure of himself, seemed to sail like a fish in water - or rather like the captain leading his boat - in this high place of power.
When the usher announced that they were expected, she shrugged her shoulders and felt ready to conquer the world - or at least one of its representatives. Especially since Rhett discreetly placed his palm on her lower back to guide her - or perhaps to encourage her.
When they reached the threshold, Scarlett made a resolution: to ignore the gold and splendor of the environment that could intimidate her, focusing only on charming their interlocutor. Then, everything should go well because it was a skill she fully mastered...
Two men were sitting in comfortable seats. They stood up as they entered.
"Rhett! Good to see you again!" Instead of a formal handshake appropriate in this ministerial office, the two men gave each other a friendly hug. Then the man turned to his companion, "Mrs. Butler, it is a great pleasure for me to welcome you to the White House. I cherish the memory of the day you honored me with your invitation inside your elegant home on Peachtree Street."
As he bent down to slightly kiss the top of her hand, she tried to remember this encounter, which had obviously not been memorable for her. Still, the old man was quite a sight to behold with his tousled curly hair and long, curling beard.
Then she had a flash of understanding. But of course! This man must have been one of the Yankee Republicans that her schemer husband had flattered before Bonnie was born, while at the same time causing Scarlett to lose her reputation with the Old Guard by introducing Scallawags into their home.
While she thanked him by digging her dimples, Rhett came to her rescue, suspecting that the name of one of his many admirers had been forgotten the moment the door closed behind him.
Mr. Hamilton Fish, our brilliant Secretary of State, has succeeded in pacifying the most burning international conflicts. (*10) He is also the initiator of the treaty of commercial collaboration between our country and the French government."
Having painted this flattering picture in front of Scarlett, he spoke directly to his friend: "Hamilton, let me thank you, on behalf of Scarlett and our daughter's memory, for expediting the funding agreement with the Bonnie Blue Butler Arts Museums Foundation. Because of your intervention, the work of the two museums in Charleston and Atlanta in serving Americans is perpetuated long into the future."
"It was my duty, as a representative of the Grant administration, to support your ambitious project to energize the cultural world by allowing the American people to rub shoulders with the mysteries of immortal Egypt. And what a revolutionary idea to introduce us to the new French pictorial currents! I am not surprised to hear that from a man as enterprising as you, Rhett! But let me introduce you to the man who also worked on our collaborative agreement with the French government, Mr. Elihu Washburne, the United States Minister to France." (*11)
The stringy-haired man's piercing, stern eyes fixed on Scarlett before greeting her, as if he were studying a rare specimen. Rhett settled for a handshake and a brief exchange of words. Clearly, they had met before.
Hamilton Fish asked his three guests to take their seats around his impressive mahogany desk.
"We are gathered to affix our signatures to the agreement of financial, logistical, and artistic collaboration between the Bonnie Blue Butler Arts Museums Foundation, of which you Rhett and Mrs. Scarlett O'Hara Butler are co-founders, and the American government of President Ulysses Grant, for whom your humble servant has been mandated to pledge our word, on the other. Mr. Washburn, here present has already received the signatures of collaboration with the French government, under the presidency of the Maréchal Mac Mahon."
At these words, the ambassador came out of his silence and presented the two visitors with initialed and stamped deeds. "After close negotiation between Mr. Rhett Butler and Mr. William Waddington, Minister of Fine Arts of the French Government (*12), we have obtained the commitment of the Louvre Museum to authorize the export to the United States of certain of its Egyptian antiquities, for a definite period of time, with a view to their being exhibited exclusively in the two Bonnie Blue Butler Arts Museums of Charleston, South Carolina, and of Atlanta, Georgia."
Scarlett and Rhett took note of the indispensable document.
Hamilton Fish said, "In return for this agreement with the Louvre, in addition to the cost of renting the antiques, we are committing the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York to have its works of art on display at the Paris museum from time to time."
Then came the solemn moment when the four people in that White House office signed the agreement that would officially allow the works of art to be imported into America.
The formalities completed, the ambassador withdrew.
"Well done, Rhett! I wonder how, by what sleight of hand, you managed to extract such modest rental contracts for such masterpieces from the French State!"
Rhett, completely relaxed now that the austere man had left the office, smiled and replied enigmatically, "I had some...persuasive and somewhat private arguments..."
Knowing the background of the famous former blockade breaker, the minister half understood what "arguments" were involved: some pressure that could be used against a fickle spouse who nevertheless held a prominent position. He refrained from commenting in the presence of Mrs. Butler, whose official divorce Rhett had not hidden from him. What a waste! he thought. That woman is stunning. And, from the way this rascal eats her with his eyes, he thinks the same. One more mystery surrounding Captain Butler!
"How about we celebrate our agreement? Mrs. Butler, may I offer you a finger of brandy? As for you, Rhett, you will accompany me: a good, aged whiskey is in order on this glorious day."
As he served them, he concluded: "I am proud that America is accompanying you in this exciting cultural adventure. And totally reassured by the financial viability of this extravagant project since you, Dear Madam, whose qualities as a businesswoman are amply recognized, will see to its excellent accounting management. So, let's toast! To the Bonnie Blue Butler Arts Museums!"
Rhett clarified, his voice low, "To Bonnie Blue Butler!" Then he looked at the mother of their missing daughter.
She whispered, "To Bonnie!"
They were about to say goodbye when Rhett's friend asked, "You're leaving tomorrow, you said. What a shame! I would have liked to invite Mrs. Butler and yourself. The opportunity will present itself on your next visit to both of you, I hope. What hotel are you staying at? At the Imperial Hotel, as usual, I presume?"
He replied hastily, to cut short further explanation, "No, at the Willard."
"Excellent choice. You know this is our President's favorite hotel, right?"
"Absolutely. In fact, I almost expected to catch him smoking his cigar near the Lobby!"
After a last burst of complicit male laughter between the two men, the couple left the friendly minister to his management of the great events of this World, and they left the White House with a lighter step.
ooooOOoooo
The maid was busy around her.
After enjoying a relaxing bath after the emotions of the afternoon – fortunately, everyone had their own bathroom in the suite - Scarlett let her hair be brushed, giving the experienced employee instructions to elaborate a particularly sophisticated hairstyle.
When it came time to dress her, she demanded that her corset be even tighter than usual. When Rhett met me at Tara, I had such a narrow waist," she lamented. But these silk laces will do their job to show off my curves where they belong.
Scarlett smiled in front of her mirror as the maid finished putting on her corset: I am going to have to remove from sale all the "Vayton Ready-to-Wear" models, from wearing them so much. It is like Duncan made them for me - although he did not know me, of course, at the time. I am going to owe him a fortune... If I dared, I might be able to negotiate a buy-back price for some of the pieces for my own use... Dare I? Will he accept?
The answer was so obvious... How adorable Duncan was!
She admired the corset in the reflection of the mirror. It was the one that the Prince of "La Mode Duncan" had designed, specially cut to her measurements, to wear under the famous "Thunder of Georgia" dress.
Scarlett remembered Blanche's explanation, "This model is cut lower under the bust than usual and hugs the hips." As with her runway dress, it was suitable for her outfit tonight because the neckline of the bodice was at least as... generous as the flagship Fifteenth Model.
Once again, she appreciated the sophistication of the embroidery of flowers and branches in silk thread "to keep the whalebones in their lane creating a refined finish," as the Director of the workshop of La Mode Duncan had told her.
She had only worn this underwear once since then when she had paraded around in front of Rhett and Ashley wearing the famous Thunder of Georgia. Tonight... she wanted to feel confident. Why? For whom? She preferred not to specify her thoughts.
Then, it was necessary to judiciously set the light but essential tournure to this very elaborate dress.
In contrast to the elegant sobriety of her afternoon outfit, the dominant color was red. A deep red, as satiny as a rose in full bloom, as intriguing as a drop of blood caused by a thorn.
First the petticoat in crisp satin, with its juxtaposition of fine gathered lace. Then the skirt, in shiny taffeta, stopped in front of mid-knee. The train after, attached just to the back tip of the bustier. If the inside was the same color as the whole, lined with crumpled organza in complicated waves, the top of the train stood out by its black taffeta. The originality of the skirt was enhanced by short red silk bows intertwined with black silk ribbons crossing at the bottom of the skirt. Only a sewing artist could create such an elaborate intertwining on the hips.
But, undeniably, it was the bustier that had won Scarlett over. Having discovered an unsuspected side of Duncan's personality in the winter garden, the sudden passion smoldering beneath the angelic blue eyes, she was only half astonished by the model: a mixture of innocence and assumed eroticism.
The organza bodice was entirely studded with small flowers with blood-red petals, edged with oval leaves of lustrous green. Scarlett was not sure, but it seemed to her that they were camellias. To accentuate this country-style and juvenile aspect, the neckline and the sleeves were furnished with fine lace.
But, because there was a "but" so that this outfit could not be worn by any of the granddaughters of the Old Guard of Atlanta: first of all, the neckline uncovered the top of the shoulders, so that Scarlett judged it preferable to stand up straight in order not to make even more eloquent the bare skin; secondly and above all, the artist had decided to partially marry the delicate fabric by a bustier. Without embellishment. Simply black satin. But, what a modern and evocative cut! Falling low on the sides, it was transformed into two tips in the hollow of the shoulder blades and the bottom of the back. As for the face of this little piece of fabric… The bottom's tip underlined her flat belly, while that of the top followed perfectly the shape under the breasts by separating them in their middle.
It looks like a corset! It's a good thing that Mammy doesn't see me like this because she would lock me up, mumbling it's not proper to go out in public in your underwear!
Since she was all alone, she gave free rein to a naughty mimic.
Scarlett judged that her waistline had never looked so slim since she had regained weight after her depression. But I should have waited until I was in the presence of my fiancé for him to see me in his somewhat... daring model.
The vivid memory of Duncan's warm lips on her throat, just a week ago on the couch in the conservatory, made her cheeks flush. But, without her noticing, other images came to mind, the one of her chemise being torn by hot, rapacious hands, the even more improbable one of their bodies rubbing against each other in all impudence in front of a public building...
The realization that each of their confrontations could flare up at any moment in an outburst of carnal passion inflamed her blood.
It was necessary not to let oneself be drawn toward this dangerous slope. I should not wear this dress in his presence. I am going to change it. I had packed a spare one in my suitcase. I do not want him to see me like this. Not after what I said to him this morning, not after what happened an hour ago...
But the maid had left. And then, it was too complicated to get changed now - even if Rhett had specified that she should take her time to get ready. And then... she wanted to show off in red. And then... she needed to see his glance when he would discover her thus... And then... she finishes by concluding, I want to have fun this evening!
Happy to have shed her old-fashioned inhibitions, she decided to wait for Rhett, comfortably seated in a chair in the private lounge. She searched in vain for a women's magazine to distract her. Frustrated, she turned to the day's local newspaper.
She was still engrossed in the Evening Star when Rhett came out of his room. (*14)
Instinctively she got up. And understood that, obviously, her toilet was going to trigger reactions, this evening...
Her prime target, this seducer Rhett, remained speechless for a few moments. Enough for Scarlett to enjoy her victory...
He, a master at hiding the slightest emotion under his mask of mockery, was literally speechless - and Scarlett found it hard to keep from bursting into laughter.
He detailed her from top to bottom, pretending to linger on the ribbon interlaces, but his eyes seemed riveted to her bustier.
He is measuring the size of my breasts, like when he used to buy my underwear...
Finally, he regretfully abandoned his reverie to resume his nonchalant air. "This model of dress is... interesting. It suits you very well!"
Aware that she was about to take a dig at him, she said, "It is true that Duncan has once again shown great inspiration in creating this outfit."
To hide his displeasure, he grumbled: "Him again..." But he quickly chased away this annoyance: "You are going to dazzle the whole of Washington! Let's go! "
While she adjusted the adorable hat that matched the tones of this evening outfit, Rhett placed the thin black ostrich feather stole that matched her fan on her shoulders, so light that she would not have realized it if his large hands had not lingered heavily on her skin. Confident of her effect, she left the mirror and the reflection of Rhett's burning gaze.
"I am ready!" Yes, she was ready to party!
ooooOOoooo
The dinner was delicious. Rhett had introduced her to the best restaurant in Washington, which were popular among high society and politicians.
After this successful and well-watered banquet, he announced, with an air that was half seductive, half authoritative: "You are too beautiful tonight to confine yourself so early in our suite. The Willard is giving a reception. Let's dance!"
Ordinarily, at this proposal alone, Scarlett would have hastened to accept. But, to his surprise, she showed no enthusiasm. "I would rather prefer to go to the theater."
He contorted his eyebrows in puzzlement, "I admit you surprise me, but it is one of your many charms. At other times, you damned yourself forever to the Old Guard for an innocent little dance." As Scarlett gave him an incendiary look, he chuckled, "Well, I admit I had a little hand in showing you the gates of hell. That is why I never thought that Shakespeare or any other tragedy of this kind would make your little heart beat. You remain a mystery to me, Miss O'Hara. But let it be done according to your wishes - as always," he added more mutedly. "I shall go at once to the butler and ask him to get me a paper. You will choose from the programs."
"It is already done."
He squinted, wondering what she was up to.
"Let's go see The Black Crook! I read in the Evening Star that there is a 9 p.m. show. We have just enough time to get there."
She expected him to agree enthusiastically with her choice. Instead, he seemed absorbed in studying a framed wall print near their table.
She filled his unusual silence by saying, "It is at the National Theater. It is on E Street, between 13th and 14th, according to the ad. Watson will have no trouble getting us there promptly. Do you know the place?"
"Yes." He began to scrutinize the lithograph again, which really had nothing exciting about it, Scarlett thought.
Then he accentuated his drawling Charlestonian accent, a sign of his unusual reluctance to indulge in her choice of distractions. "Wouldn't you rather go dancing? According to the hotel concierge, the ball is being given as a thank you to the wealthy donors who helped fund the Fourth of July festivities. You will see that even though the ladies of Washington will be parading around in their most elegant outfits, you, my Dear, will be the one to make them green with envy. That argument alone should be enough. And to hell with the theater!"
"Actually, It is about a devil or Faust, I don't know exactly. But the plot is just a pretence. What Taisy told me... " - She lowered her voice so the other patrons in the restaurant could not hear her - "It is not a real classical play like they do in Atlanta. It has fantastic sets, songs, and...- this will convince you to run to it, dancers in...daring outfits."
Scarlett's beautiful features were sublimated by a childlike joy. He loves it when I look at him like this... I am going to convince him...
Indeed, she did not miss the naughty grin he tried to mask. "Daring outfits? You, Scarlett O'Hara, Ellen Robillard's daughter, compromising yourself in a place of debauchery?"
She felt the redness invade her neck and cheeks. Damned! He always managed to make her lose her temper! She continued nevertheless:
"Stop teasing me, please. This play was a big hit in New York. Taisy and Harry saw it last year and fell in love with it. The staging is outrageous, from what she tells me. That should not displease you. She even taught me the major song that is all the rage."
This time she whispered a few words while humming, and Rhett took the opportunity to press his cheek to hers - what bothered her more, especially as she could only see two black eyes so much he was only a few inches away from her.
But she was too much embarked in her story to stop: "Taisy and me spent hours to repeat the text and the music. We had a lot of fun. It is great to finally have a friend - of course, it will never be like it was with Mellie. In short, Taisy will be jealous to death if I tell her I saw this phenomenal play in Washington!"
Finally realizing that their two faces so close together would surprise the restaurant's distinguished clientele, she straightened in the chair, "Please, Rhett, let's go!"
She knew he would crack if she modulated her plea with a zest of seduction and candor - which had always resulted in the past in him melting and flooding her with jewels.
Indeed. He shook his head and laughed, aware that once again she had managed to manipulate him: "Alright, I accept. On one condition: that you sing me all the words - when we get back to the hotel, in private..."
ooooOOoooo
Notes on Chapter 44:
To see the illustrations and photographs and listen to the music corresponding to each chapter of The Boutique Robillard, visit my blog: alarecherchedutempsperdu over blog com the robillard boutique (sorry full url cannot be edited on this website, so add a . after alarechercherdutempsperdu than add a - between over and blog and . com
(*1) Timetable of the direct train from Atlanta to Washington: Southern Mail N°50 of the Piedmont Air Line Route of the Richmond and Danville Railroad: The timetable and stations indicated during this journey correspond to those of the Richmond and Danville Railroad Company, on the Piedmond Air Line from Atlanta to Washington, in 1882.
Depart Atlanta, Georgia: 1:40 p.m. - Lula, Georgia, 3:13 p.m. - Toccoa, Georgia, 4:25 p.m. - Seneca, North Carolina, 5:24 p.m. - Charlotte, North Carolina 11:30 p.m. - Salisbury, Maryland, Day 2 1:15 a.m. - Greensboro, North Carolina, 3:04 a.m. - Danville, Virginia 5:20 a.m. - Lynchburg, Virginia, 8:15 a.m. - Alexandria, Virginia, 2:35 p.m. - Washington, D.C - source: davidrumsey com The-Piedmont-Air-Line-&-connections
*2) I have used my personal experience here while I spent five years caring for my parents at the end of their lives. My mother had a tendency to choke while eating her daily soup. When she panicked fearing that she couldn't breathe, she convulsed frantically. So each time my father and I were terrified that her heart would give out. Each time, I managed to "get her back" with this method of eye-to-eye and shared breathing. I don't know why I came to describe this scene of Scarlett choking, totally unexpected as I typed the previous paragraph. The mysteries of writing...
(*3) Scarlett's dress for her visit to the White House: I was inspired by a design by Charles Pilatte for the Maison Worth, circa 1860-1870: alarecherchedutempsperdu over blog com the robillard boutique chapter 44
If you want to know more about the history of Washington in the 19th century and early 1900's, visit this blog where I found a wealth of information: Streets of Washington, stories and images of historic Washington, D.C. source: streetsofwashington com -
(*4) Baltimore & Potomac Railroad Station: built in 1872, at the corner of Pennsylvania Avenue and Sixth Street. The Short-Lived Baltimore & Potomac Railroad Station on the National Mall - source: Boundary Stones - 2016/06/29/short-lived-baltimore-potomac-railroad-station-national-mall
(*5) The Willard Hotel: the old Willard hotel, as it is represented in my fanfiction in 1876: the Willard Hotel in the 19th Century - source: Streets of Washington - archive 2012/07 the willard hotel in 19th century
And for those interested in the New Willard Hotel built in 1917: the rise, fall, and rebirth of the Willard Hotel in the 20th Century - source: streets of Washington - archive 2012/08
(*6) The Willard Hotel, "residence of the Presidents" - source: the white house historical association - the-willard-hotel
(*7) George Washington Monument: begun in 1848, the work was interrupted in 1854, due to a lack of private funding. A public financing voted by the Congress allowed the official resumption of the work in 1876. The work was completed in 1884. Instead of the 180 meters planned, its final height was 170 meters - source: National Park Service - .
Photograph of the resumption of work in 1876: my blog : alarecherchedutempsperdu over blog com the robillard boutique
and buzzfeed com gabrielsanchez / americas-most-iconic-landmarks-before-they-were-finished
(*8) The Mall pictured in 1870: view of the Mall in 1870 - source: Streets of Washington - archive 2015/04
(*9) The Mall, from the Capitol to the White House and the Greenborough statue in 1876: a closer look, facing East from the Capitol, circa 1875 - source: Streets of Washington - archive 2015/12
(*10) Secretary of State Hamilton Fish (3/8/1808 - 7/9/1893) - Served in the Grant administration from March 17, 1869 to March 12, 1877 - source: https: wiki/Hamilton_Fish
(*11) Elihu Benjamin Washburne, United States Minister to France (23/9/1816 - 22/10/1887) - in office from March 23, 1869 to September 5, 1877-
(*12) William Henry Waddington, (1826-1894), Minister of Public Instruction, Cults and Fine Arts, in office under the Government of the Third Republic from 9 March 1876 to 17 May 1877.
(*13) Scarlett's evening dress: model published in La France élégante, 1879 – see it on my blog, alarecherchedutempsperdu over blog com the robillard boutique
(*14) Washington newspaper in 1876, the Evening Star - source: Library of Congress - .gov/item/sn83045462/1876-07-07/ed-1/