Revelation: Danger; unforeseen catastrophe.
December 23, 1814
It was just after noon, two days before Christmas, and Hortense was quietly humming to herself as she polished Catherine’s silver. The house was quiet; Catherine and Scamp were at General Jackson’s headquarters on Rue Royal, and Miguel was at Place d’Armes, training with Major Pierre Lacoste’s battalion of free men of color.
Hortense refused to dwell on the city’s problems; instead, she was happily considering the ingredients she would need for preparing the Reveillon dinner. On Christmas Eve, the family would go to St. Louis Cathedral for midnight Mass and, because they had fasted, would return for a marvelous, table d’hôte feast. Hortense planned on making her famous turtle soup, followed by oysters, egg pudding, and a veal roast. A brioche and a fruit loaf would be served for dessert.
Hortense also looked forward to the weeklong festivities following Christmas. The New Year’s celebration meant putting gifts under the new-year tree. And in the coming years, once Suzanne’s child, sure to be bubbly and perhaps even boisterous, was born, the season would be even more high-spirited.
Hortense smiled to herself. She enjoyed the preparations, for, although she had relatives on some of the plantations, she considered this her home and Catherine, Miguel, Suzanne, and Scamp her family. Catherine was good to her, had subtly encouraged her to learn to read, taught her healing skills, and, as she had promised, emancipated her several years earlier. She was gratified to continue working as a paid servant for this benevolent woman.
A frenzied knocking on the back door interrupted her reverie.
Hmph! she thought, annoyed that someone was intruding upon her quiet afternoon. The knocking continued, turning into a louder pounding.
“All right, all right,” Hortense yelled, “I’m coming!”
When she opened the door, her eyes widened with astonishment. Her cousin and his wife, house slaves from the Villeré plantation, stood there, quite dirty and disheveled, and obviously exhausted.
“Andre! Claire! What are you doing here?”
Andre responded. “The plantation has been captured by the Redcoats, Hortense! It happened this morning, around ten thirty. They had Monsieur Villeré under guard.”
“We were in the kitchen house,” added Claire. “We were able to get away while the English were busy stealing the tableware and emptying the wine cellar.”
“Oh my goodness!” cried Hortense. “You must have been terrified!”
“At first, but it soon was clear that the Redcoats weren’t interested in the slaves; we have nothing worth stealing,” replied Claire.
“We saw Major Gabriel Villeré escape, too. He leaped through an open window, then jumped over a fence and ran across the fields, toward the cypress swamp,” added Andre. “Meanwhile, the English were running after him, and one of them was yelling out to ‘catch him or kill him!’”
“Oh!” said Hortense, wringing her hands. “This is dreadful news!”
“We don’t know what happened to Monsieur Villeré. I hope he got away!” said Andre.
“Well, what about your escape?” asked Hortense.
“We were walking here as fast as we could, when we met two soldiers, a Yankee and a Creole. They were on horses and were riding to our plantation,” said Andre.
“We stopped them and told them what we told you,” added Claire. “The Yankee soldier, he turned his horse right around and raced off toward the city.”
“The Creole gave us this gold piece,” said Andre, showing Hortense the coin. “He said that we’d done a great service for our country. Then he headed for the plantation!”
“You suppose he was going to fight all those English by himself?” asked Hortense.
“By the time he gets there, the British will probably be so drunk on free wine that he most likely could!” responded Andre.
“We didn’t know where else to go, Hortense! Do you think Madame Catherine will let us stay here for a while?” asked Claire.
“I suspect she’ll be happy to have your help,” replied Hortense. “But first we need to go to General Jackson’s headquarters and make sure that he knows about all this! Allons!”