Chapter One:The Place des Negres

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New Orleans, Louisiana 1846



Oak Alley seemed almost haunted at night. It creaked with every gust of wind, an eerie sound at such a late hour. The whisper of the breeze through the trees could be heard inside – branches brushed against the house, tapping at the window like a ghost. The moonlight cast slow drifting shadows of the branches across the whitewashed bedroom walls. A low hissing and crackling came from the hearth as the fire slowly died to embers. The smell of wet earth drifted in through the open window, mingling with the clean scent of freshly washed bed sheets. Between the crisp linens, a warming pan released the last of its heat. All of this invaded Crystal de la Chaise’s senses as she waited for the old plantation to fall into a deep slumber.

It had been a long wait; the only thing to occupy her mind was the night ahead. Every passing second filled her head with doubts, and she couldn't remember the reason she agreed to this in the first place. Her best friend, June Allian, had planned this the better part of two weeks ago – when she had first heard from her cousin about the goings on in the ‘back of town.’ Which was a neighborhood on the lake side of the French Quarter, known as Faubourg Treme. It housed the largest population of free colored people in New Orleans. Every Sunday, free Negroes and slaves alike gathered in the Place de Negres, an open field just outside the city walls. There, from early afternoon to far into the night, they danced, sang and socialized. Crystal had heard a great deal about the savage dances and the indecent amount of clothes worn. It sounded so exciting a few weeks ago, sneaking out of the house, being free for a single night to do as she liked. June had been so adamant about the fun they would have, and she was an expert at pushing all rational thinking out of her best friend's head.

“It will be a grand adventure. Cousin Felix said they perform the dances of their African heritage. He said it was the most barbarous thing he’d ever seen. It will be such fun! We can go late at night, so that no one will know we’re gone. Crystal, we must go. We simply must!”

“But June, surely you realize it would be dangerous. Only the two of us in the middle of all those Darkies, why, they could all turn on us and then what would we do?”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” June snapped. “They wouldn’t do any such thing. And besides, there are not only Negroes there. Perfectly respectable people go there to watch all the time.”

“Not after dark!”

“Yes, after dark! Felix said he’s seen white people there at all hours of the day. Though they may not be the most honorable people . . . ” The last she murmured under her breath.

“Even so, why are you so determined to see half-naked Darkies dancing like heathens? What does the back of town have that so interests you?”

“Indians!” June bounced on her bed as if a little girl at Christmas, sounding thrilled at the prospect.

“Indians?” Crystal laughed. “June, there are no Indians in New Orleans, not anymore. Who told you such a tale?”

“Felix told me. He said they–”

“June, Felix is just playing with your mind–or he’s just daft. Either way, there are no Indians.”

“You can’t be sure of that,” June protested as Crystal rolled her eyes. “Oh, come now, Crystal, wouldn’t you like to have one last adventure before you marry Charles? And he’ll never even know–no one will know.”

Crystal glared at June, knowing she brought up Charles’ name to tempt her into going.

She had been betrothed to Charles de Marginy de Mandeville since April of last year. When he asked for her hand after only a month of courting, her parents were delighted. All Crystal thought about was what people would say when they found out, and what her parents would say if she refused. Doubts invaded her mind, but the expectations of others convinced her to accept his proposal. She knew that Charles could give her everything she wanted. At least that's what everyone said. Charles was a good man, a respectable man, and a rich man. Any other woman would be glad to be her. She could never quite put her finger on why she didn't agree, and because she could never really explain her unease about him, she was unable to say why she was reconsidering her decision.

It was the mention of Charles that made up her mind. She would go, if for no other reason than to defy her fiancé, even if he would never know.

Now, a week later, Crystal slipped out of bed and dressed in the dark. She put on an old brown frock and an old grey cloak. June suggested she wear something plain so that they wouldn’t draw attention. As she braided her long dark hair, she stared at her reflection in the mirror. She raised her brows. "What are you getting yourself into?” She sighed, thinking of June's wild tendencies and what might come of them. Her blue eyes looked back with doubt. Sighing, she rubbed the bridge of her nose, wondering for a moment if the freckles would eventually disappear she did it long enough. Not likely, she decided as she got up from the vanity.

She left her room and crept down the hall, grateful for the thick Oriental rug that muffled her footsteps. As she passed her parents' room, she could hear her father’s deep rumbling snores. In the next room she heard her two little brothers mumbling in their sleep. The other rooms were silent, her three sisters deeply asleep. She descended the grand staircase, crossed the entrance hall and opened the front door. Winter has been unusually long this year, she thought, stepping out into the chilly air. It still held on even in April.

She inhaled the crisp air before wrapping her cloak tightly around her. She hurried off the porch and down through the alley of live-oak trees which gave the house its name. The sound of her footsteps against the wet ground was unnerving, echoing in the quiet. She could not help glancing behind her fearful that someone was following.

She reached the gate with relief and found that June wasn't there. She looked back toward the house, which was barely visible through the huge oak trees; with fourteen on each side, the tunnel was nearly half a mile long. All she could see of the house were the eight giant pillars that ran along the front porch. No lights came from the windows. Not a single person about.

It was disturbed her, for she was unaccustomed to Oak Alley looking so spiritless. There were no sounds of slaves singing in the fields. No children playing tag in the front yard. No carriages riding up the tunnel bringing visitors. No smoke billowing from the cotton gin that sat a few miles away on the west side of the plantation. No Negroes calling pleasantries to one another as they went about their work. Nothing but a few cats prowling about, looking for their next prey.

After waiting a few minutes, she turned to head back home when the familiar sound of hoof beats drifted through the night air. Around the bend, a wagon appeared. Although too dark to see much, she made out June sitting on the seat next to a black man. The cart bumped along at a brisk pace.

Even before the wagon came to a stop, June was talking excitedly. “Crystal, I'm glad you’re here. I was afraid you might lose your nerve.”

“I nearly did,” Crystal said, glancing at the Negro.

“Oh, this is Free. He’s a field slave. He’s going to go with us to the back of town. And don’t worry. He won’t tell anyone where we’ve been.”

Crystal nodded; the news surprised her, though after days of convincing herself to go, it had never occurred to her to wonder how they would get there.

“Well, come along now, Crystal. Hop in the back, and do try to avoid smelling like anything back there.”

Crystal crawled into the wagon and perched herself on the edge, hearing a foul squelching sound as she moved. The wagon bed, piled with hay, smelled strongly of horse manure.

“Hold on,” June said, seeming amused by Crystal’s uncomfortable position. She then turned to Free, explaining to him slowly, as if speaking to a child, which route he was to take to get to the Place de Negres.

Crystal glared at the back of June’s curly blonde head, knowing that she had done this purposefully to see if she would complain about being put in such an unladylike situation. June confirmed her suspicion when she looked back with a smirk. It annoyed June greatly that Crystal insisted on being prim and proper at all times. June teased her unceasingly, often saying that she would have tea with the dreadful pirate Jean Laffite himself, if only he asked politely.

Crystal's utter annoyance of June’s endless search for danger, adventure, and anything remotely scandalous balanced their friendship.

Tonight, she would not give June the pleasure of seeing her whine. She pulled her skirts up around her ankles to keep them from being sullied, and held on tightly to the edge of the wagon as it slowly lurched down the road.

*******

Crystal's unease increased as they neared the Place de Negres. The rhythmical drum beats could be heard a quarter mile away. A large bonfire burned in the middle of the square and around it, dozens of Negroes danced, stomped their feet and wailed to the night. They were ornamented with a number of tails from all sorts of smaller animals, as well as fringes, ribbons, little bells and shells and balls, jingling and flirting about the performers’ arms and legs. The women wore gauze, muslin, and percale dresses, so soaked with sweat that they were nearly transparent. The males covered themselves only with a sash of the same sorts wrapped around their waists.

On four corners around the bonfire, there were groups of men beating at drums, strumming on banzas and shaking tambourines. In the midst of all this, a man sang a song in some African language, somehow managing to get his voice to rise above the incredible noise.

Surrounding the bonfire and the performers was a diverse assortment of races: Whites, Creoles, and Negroes moved their bodies in rhythm with the music, shouting and laughing in a drunken stupor.

Crystal watched in horror as the men and women danced sinfully close together, realizing that everything she’d heard about this place was true. Charles would be enraged if he knew she were here in the thick of these lowly, uncultured people.

They rolled to a stop under a large cluster of oak trees. June's eyes sparkled as she jumped from the wagon. “Do stop staring as if you are witnessing a murder and come down from there,” she shouted over the noise.

Crystal hoisted herself off the wagon and fell to her knees.

“This is so barbaric.” She stood and dusted herself off. “I cannot believe I let you convince me to come here.”

“Hurry. We’re missing all the fun,” June said, ignoring Crystal’s words of protest as she raced off into the swarm of people.

“June! – June, come back here this instant!” Crystal shouted, but June’s bouncing blonde ringlets disappeared into the throng.

Crystal groaned. How could June do this to her, leaving her here in the middle of all these heathens? She turned toward the wagon, to find Free driving it away. She called to him, but over the noise he did not hear.

Well, I can't go home alone, she thought. She would find June. She couldn’t have gone far. Working her way through the crowd was difficult, they were all so caught up in the music that few noticed her and she had to shove people aside. The smell of sweat and moonshine invaded her nostrils and the thick press of dirty bodies against her own made her feel grimy and disgusted.

“Whoa there, little missy!”

She staggered when a man roughly gripped her forearm.

“Where you headed off to? The party’s right here with me.” He spun her around and pulled her close. Crystal was greeted by rotten teeth and whiskey breath.

She turned her head to avoid the sour smell of him. “Unhand me, sir. I need to find my friend, and then we will be leaving.”

He did not seem to hear her and attempted to pull her closer. “Come on, darlin', let’s dance.”

“Let go of me!” Crystal yelled, as she struggled with the man. Pulling one of her arms free, she jabbed at his face and her fingers managed to stab his eye. He screamed in pain but the noise blended into the music. She freed herself from his loosened grasp and quickly pushed her way farther into the crowd. Feeling shaken and somewhat surprised by her own reaction to the assault.

She arrived at the other end of the square without any luck of finding her friend. Where was June? She began to think that she would never find her when she heard a familiar laugh. She turned around and breathed a sigh of relief.

“June, thank God, I thought I would never find you.” She grabbed June's hand. “We are going home right now.”

“No, we’re not,” June said. “This is too much fun to go home early. And I still haven’t seen an Indian.”

“June, have you taken leave of your senses? This is no place for ladies.”

“Come now, Crystal, is that not the reason we came here, to break out of the bounds of propriety?” June laughed at the look of uncertainty on Crystal’s face. “It will be fine. Now come and let me introduce you to a few new friends of mine.” June turned and pulled Crystal with her to an area just beyond the throng of dancers.

“This is Jac.” She pointed to a young, dark haired Creole holding a bottle of whiskey. He grinned at Crystal with a devilish look in his eye. She felt distrust crawl up her spine.

“And this is Pierre.” June let go of Crystal’s hand and went to stand beside Pierre.

“Mignonne, vous allez a jolies fleur,” Jac complimented her drunkenly. “Come with me, we shall dance, oui?”

“Non, monsieur, non!” Crystal shouted, but her cries went unheeded.

Jac grabbed her wrist and dragged her back into the mob of sweating bodies. He crushed her to his chest so she couldn’t move, and spun her around until she was dizzy.

Crystal shrieked at him to stop but he didn’t seem to hear her, or refused to listen.

When the music finally came to an abrupt halt, she jerked herself free of him, wrenching her arm so forcefully from his grasp that he stumbled forward. She darted back through the crowd, trying to suppress the tears in her eyes. She wasn’t sure why she was crying, all they did was dance, but nevertheless her throat was closing up. She wiped her eyes roughly and ran over to where June was standing, holding her own bottle of whiskey.

“June, are you drinking? Your mother is going to kill you!” Crystal's eyes and mouth widened in shock. Never had she seen this side of June before. It was beginning to scare her.

“What my mother doesn’t know, won’t hurt her,” replied June, shaking the bottle in front of Crystal’s face, and then tipping it back for another drink.

“I want to go home, June. Please, let’s go home.”

“You know, Crystal, if I had known you would be such a baby I wouldn’t have brought you,” June said, suddenly angry. “Now if you want to leave, be my guest, but I’m not going anywhere.” She turned away from Crystal. “Come along, Pierre, what fun is a party if you don’t dance?”

Crystal watched them disappear into the crowd of drunken dancers with contempt. The lump tightened in her throat as she tried to swallow. Irritated at her tendency to cry when she was angry, she harshly wiped them away.

“Fine,” she yelled to no one. “I will go home.”

Heading over to the cluster of oak trees where a bunch of wagons were parked, she searched for the wagon they came in, hoping the slave that brought them here would be there. All the wagons looked the same, and Free was nowhere in sight.

She gave up her search and wandered the outskirts of the square, catching sight of June once in a while laughing and flirting with Pierre. She was upset at her friend, but also upset at herself because she was unable to let go and be carefree like that.

Leaning against a tree, she pulled her hood up over her head, hoping that no one would notice her, and watched the dancers. After a moment a huge man with bulking shoulders and an unkempt beard walked up to her. He grabbed hold of her arm and grinning, whispered a profane suggestion in her ear.

“How dare you! Get away from me!” she cried.

When she tried to pry her arm free of his grasp, he roughly pulled her away from the crowd, into the surrounding darkness. She screamed at the top of her lungs, wrestling against him, but she was no match for his bulk.

Sobbing hysterically, she clawed at his face, drawing blood. He threw her to the ground and knelt over her, locking her legs under his. He moved to unbuckle his belt.

She screamed again and at the same moment the crack of a gun shot split the air. The hulking man was flung backwards, and blood gushed from the bullet hole in his chest.

Crystal sat up, too shocked to be relieved as she stared at the man on the ground, blood quickly turned his shirt scarlet. A nauseating feeling rose in her throat. The ground started to move beneath her. She was sick on the grass. Once she emptied her stomach, she unsteadily got to her feet.She closed her eyes against the tipping world, and reached out for something to balance herself, shrieking in surprise when she felt a hand clasp her own.

“Did he hurt you?”

Her head snapped around and a cry of fear burst from her lips as she caught sight of the towering figure before her, completely masked in darkness, a gun gripped in his hand. Terror filled her and without a moment's hesitation she kneed him in the groin, causing him to double over in pain, cursing and groaning. She then darted back toward the light of the bonfire.

Back in the square, tears spilled from her eyes. She kept her hood low. She wanted desperately to go home, but June was nowhere in sight and she was too afraid to attempt to find her. She looked for a place to get away from the crowd.

Finding a low branched oak tree, she hiked up her skirts and awkwardly climbed, her body trembling with fear and sobs, her soft hands blistering under the harsh wood. When she made it up high enough so that she could not be seen, she made herself comfortable. Through the branches she could see the flickering light of the bonfire and the Darkies that leaped around it.

Fighting for control of her emotions, she closed her eyes tightly, trying to stop crying. She would sit here and wait. June couldn’t stay here all night. Wrapping her cloak around herself, she set her mind on the realization that she would be there for a while.

It wasn’t long before she began to doze, her head slumping down and then jerking up when a particularly high African note pierced the night.

After what felt like hours, she noticed the noise had died down a little, and as she looked below her, and saw that the crowd had thinned out considerably. She climbed from the tree and cautiously observed her surroundings. Everything had calmed down. The dancers were gone, and though music still played, it was a lower, more soothing hum.

Deeming it safe to venture out, she wandered around and around the square and did not find June. She began to worry that she left without her. After all, she never told June that she couldn’t find Free and so was forced to stay. Panicking, she ran over to where the wagons were parked, but they were all gone.

Walking back toward the tree she had vacated, she saw four horses tied to an oak a few yards away. Could she take one? She would try to return it tomorrow. She then noticed four men heading toward the horses. They staggered by her drunkenly; getting up onto their horses seemed to be quite challenging for them. When one man fell off, the rest laughed hysterically, including the man on the ground.

“Now tha’ was graceful, Jeremy.” One of the younger men slurred, doubled over on his horse laughing.

Disgusted by their stupidity, she hurried away.

Now what? she thought as she sat down against the trunk of the tree. What if she wasn’t able to get home, and her parents found out that she snuck out of the house to go to the Place des Negres? Charles was going to be furious, and Mother would kill her for jeopardizing the marriage that they’d been planning for almost a year. Why did I ever decide to come here? This time, when Crystal felt tears brimming behind her eyes, she didn't try to hold them back. Pulling her knees against her chest, she put her head in her hands and cried.

*******

“Are you all right?”

She hadn’t heard his footsteps, hadn’t sensed his presence when he crouched down beside her, so when he spoke, Crystal was so startled that her whole body sprang, her hand flying up and hitting him in the face.

“Damn it,” he muttered, putting a hand to his mouth. “What did you do that for?”

“What –what do you want?” she asked, ignoring his question. Her voice shuddered and choked from crying, catching on her words. She watched him cautiously, wanting to kick herself for letting him sneak up on her.

“I was wondering if you were all right,” he said, his voice rising an octave in defense.

Crystal glanced at his face, surprised by his offended tone. Was he concerned for her or was this a decoy to get her defenses down? Though, what defenses did she have? Left alone in the square there was little she could do to protect herself against any sort of threat. Any advances from the lean, agile man before her would be unstoppable.

She stared at him, and his return gaze was penetrating, yet gentle. She burst out crying.

“Tell me what’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

“Yes, well – no – but – I – I’m . . .” Crystal let her words trail off into the night, unable to decide whether or not she could trust him.

“What’s the matter?” he prodded.

“I . . . um, I came here with a friend of mine, and, well, we got into a . . . a fight. I was going to go home, but the slave who –well, he brought us here, and he was gone so I stayed, and now I can’t find June anywhere, and I haven’t any way to get . . . home, and I . . . I don’t know what to do.” Crystal took a deep breath, trying to stop crying.

He let out a slow whistle. “Look,” he said, biting his lip hesitantly. “If you want, I can take you home.”

She started, surprised by his offer and afraid of his motives, but the alternative was to stay here and wait for another –possibly more dangerous –stranger. “Would you?”

“I'm the one who offered.”

He stood up and extended his hand as the firelight swept the shadows from his face, sharpening his features. His green eyes sparkled brilliantly in the light of the dancing flames, a hard edge glinting in their depths. He had a defined jaw and straight nose and hair so dark she’d have thought it black except for the glints of umber that tinted the short locks. Her gaze flickered to his hips, where two revolvers were tucked into the holster that was belted around his narrow waist. His appearance seemed to suggest a hard and long life, though he could hardly be older than twenty.

She grasped his hand timidly, and as their skin touched, a warm spark shot up her arm and expanded throughout her body, making her gasp. She looked up in time to see the same look of surprise on his face, but it was masked quickly as he pulled her to her feet.

Breathless, she turned her face away. “Thank you,” she said quietly as he helped her up.

He nodded and then gestured for her to follow him. “You look familiar,” he said after a moment, looking back over his shoulder at her as they walked across the square.

“Do I?”

“Yes.” He stopped and turned to look at her, appraising. His eyes narrowed and recognition briefly came to his face, but after a moment he shook himself. “I’m probably just thinking of someone else.”

They moved on.

She hurried her pace to keep up with the man’s long legged stride. They walked farther away from the square, and as the darkness enveloped them both she recognized his tall, lean figure.

“You’re the man in the woods! You’re the one that saved me from that ogre that was attacking me!”

He glanced back at her once more. “Yeah, I guess that was where I’d seen you.” He did not seem surprised at this information at all which led her to believe that he was not telling the truth. “Though by the way you were acting you’d think I was the one that attacked you.”

She blushed. “Yes, forgive me for that. I didn’t realize . . . I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

He laughed. “No, not at all, I barely felt it.”

Her face turned a deeper shade of red at his sarcastic tone.

“Did he hurt you?”

It took her a moment to figure out what he was talking about. “Oh –uh . . . No. I’m fine. Thank you . . . for saving me, I mean.”

“My pleasure.”

She smiled at his polite manner. “I only hope that man will recover from his wound. I wouldn’t want his family to suffer over this.”

“Recover? He’s –” he stopped, staring at her. “Um . . . yeah, I think he will.”

He led her to a big black mare that was waiting, lazily swinging its tail as it watched them from about twenty yards away from the square.

“We’re going to have to ride together, you realize?” he said, watching her.

“Oh, yes, of –of course. Behind you, right?” she said, pointing at the horse.

“Unless you want to sit in front . . .” He raised one brow, and she thought she saw a glint in his eyes, She blushed again, shaking her head.

Hooking his boot in the stirrup, he swung himself onto the horse and again held out his hand to her. She took it hesitantly, afraid of the odd feeling she’d felt when she’d taken his hand before. This time the spark was less shocking but even more overwhelming. Their eyes met over their clasped hands for a brief instance before he swiftly pulled her up onto the saddle, looking unsettled.

“You’re going to have to hold on to me,” he said.

She thought she heard a hint of laughter in his voice.

“I know.” She put her arms around him, trying to think straight and unsure of the odd feelings she was having, grateful he couldn’t see her face.

She jumped when he grabbed her clasped hands and pushed them down toward his stomach, away from his chest.

“Did I scare you?” he asked.

Yes, she thought. “No,” she said.

“Ready?”

“Uh huh.”

Following her directions, he rode away from the Place de Negres at a canter, but when they reached the Garden District he eased the horse into a walk. When they finally reached the gates of Oak Alley he handed her down off the horse. She felt relieved to not have to be so close to the handsome stranger. The feel of his chest beneath her hands seemed seared to her fingers, even with coat and shirt covering his bare skin from her own flesh. She’d felt too close for comfort riding with him, but she also felt an unsettling need to be next to him again. For a moment she wondered if he was feeling the same things, then, realizing she was staring, she quickly broke the silence that lengthened between them.

“Thank you very much, for everything. I don’t know what I would have done without you.” She smiled warmly at him, hoping he would see how grateful she was.

“No problem,” he said, nonchalantly.

An awkward silence again filled the air.

“That’s an awful nice house you got there,” he said finally as he stared through the moss-covered trees toward the plantation that glowed blue in the bright moonlight.

Thinking he was pointing out her wealth, she stuttered, “Oh –yes –um . . . of course I will pay you for your troubles. Just let me retrieve my pouch and-.”

“Pay me? I didn’t help you for the money. I didn’t even know you were rich.”

“I’m not rich. It’s my father’s money.”

“Well, whose ever money it is, I don’t want it.”

“But I could –”

“I don’t want your money. I don’t need your money."

Crystal flinched. “Very well then. Thank you, sir, for all your help. I wish you a safe return home.” She glanced about their surrounding, trying to find something to say to keep him there a little longer, but nothing came to mind.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Safer than yours I hope. Try not to get into any more trouble, all right?”

She tried to respond but couldn’t find her voice. Instead she nodded and gave him a quick smile. “Good night,” she managed to whisper, though she doubted he could hear the quiet words. Slowly, she pulled open the gate and turned back to him. Waiting for something that she couldn't explain.

He nodded as well, and after a moment’s hesitation, turned and galloped away. She stared at his back until he was out of sight, then she stepped inside the gate and closed it firmly behind her. The loud clangor of the latch echoed in the quiet night. She stood there for a long time, hoping he would come back, and at the same time wondering why she hoped such a thing.

I’m probably just tired, she thought as she turned and headed for the house. It’s been a long night and I’m not feeling like myself. Yes, that’s it, I’m just not feeling well.

Sure that she’d found the answer, Crystal let her thoughts of the emerald eyed man slip from her mind. This night was over with, and she wouldn’t think of him again.

*******

If you enjoyed this part of the story please continue with; "Chapter Two: Emerald Fire"  Thank you for the time you've spent on my story.