stream of sailors load and unload cargo at a frantic pace. In the ribald exchange of their greetings and pleasantries many languages sounded: French, English, Spanish, Creole, Portuguese, Greek, Italian and, to his amusement, a group of small golden skinned men at the far end spoke an oriental tongue.
He smiled at the sight.
Mounds of coal, bales of cotton, barrels of tobacco and sugar filled the levee, mixed among case after case of merchandise stretching as far as the eye could see. Merchants ran back and forth, desperately shouting orders in a futile effort to be heard above the incessant noise. Longshoremen, their strong black and nearly naked bodies glistening with sweat as they rolled barrels or lifted bales, sang songs in strange African dialects, songs that blended into a garbled English or Creole patois. Gracefully and effortlessly, Negro women carried huge baskets of goods on their heads, calling out wares for sale.
A few paces away, the marketplace looked even more exotic. Rows of canvas-shaded stands spilled out in every direction from the long brick structure resting beneath the Palace D'Arms. Food stands, offering every palatable item imaginable along with many unimaginable and unrecognizable took up over half the marketplace. The produce area alone occupied two rows, selling every type of greenery known to the world. Alongside the produce stands sat a long row of fish and meat stands. Small Negro children obediently fanned flies from the piles; a signal from their master sent them dashing to the river with a bucket—a dark streak in the glaring sun— returning to dump cool water
over the fish. The stench was overwhelming, but oddly Ram felt he was the only person among the multitudes who even noticed it.
Every other kind of ware was for sale, too: clothes, fabric, housing goods and wares, even one book stand. The far side offered livestock: pens of cows, sheep, chickens and goats, other pet pens of dogs, kittens, birds and even monkeys.
Proprietors shouted unceasingly for the attention of the jostling crowds of buyers. Grand Dames, dressed in silks and twirling brightly colored parasols, walked alongside peasants, beggars, Negroes and even savages. He never would have believed it, without seeing it.
Eventually he found himself seated at a table in a small cafe, his back to the bank to watch for Bart. With a colorful blue and white striped awning, the cafe provided pleasant shade as well as a panoramic view of all the many activities. Waiting for his meal and coffee, he leaned back, sighing with satisfaction.
The first part of his plan was set in action. He hired two agents to look for a prime piece of rich delta land. The land would be cleared and a manor would be built, all to create the impression that he planned to make Louisiana his home. Which he would have to do for a while.
The information his agents had gathered left no doubt that the five men he would see ruined were close to the wealthiest, if not the wealthiest, in the state. Though these men certainly deserved to be hanged, he was not going to give them the mercy of a hanging—that was too easy. Their atrocities sprang from simple greed; therefore it was their fortunes he'd see ruined. The whole endeavor was a favor to his uncle, and while he certainly didn't mind the effort this favor required, to say nothing of the results the favor would reap, the time required bothered him. Time was the enemy of life, especially his life. There would never be enough time for all he wanted to accomplish.
A friendly mulatto, serving wench placed a huge plate of gumbo, honey-baked rolls, a glass of claret and a fresh cup of coffee in front of him. Ram thanked her with a more than generous tip. He was enjoying his meal as much as the sights, sounds and bustle of the marketplace, and he took no notice of the carriage that stopped in front of the bank he had just quit. Two older women descended and entered the bank, while three fairly young ladies made
He smiled at the sight.
Mounds of coal, bales of cotton, barrels of tobacco and sugar filled the levee, mixed among case after case of merchandise stretching as far as the eye could see. Merchants ran back and forth, desperately shouting orders in a futile effort to be heard above the incessant noise. Longshoremen, their strong black and nearly naked bodies glistening with sweat as they rolled barrels or lifted bales, sang songs in strange African dialects, songs that blended into a garbled English or Creole patois. Gracefully and effortlessly, Negro women carried huge baskets of goods on their heads, calling out wares for sale.
A few paces away, the marketplace looked even more exotic. Rows of canvas-shaded stands spilled out in every direction from the long brick structure resting beneath the Palace D'Arms. Food stands, offering every palatable item imaginable along with many unimaginable and unrecognizable took up over half the marketplace. The produce area alone occupied two rows, selling every type of greenery known to the world. Alongside the produce stands sat a long row of fish and meat stands. Small Negro children obediently fanned flies from the piles; a signal from their master sent them dashing to the river with a bucket—a dark streak in the glaring sun— returning to dump cool water
over the fish. The stench was overwhelming, but oddly Ram felt he was the only person among the multitudes who even noticed it.
Every other kind of ware was for sale, too: clothes, fabric, housing goods and wares, even one book stand. The far side offered livestock: pens of cows, sheep, chickens and goats, other pet pens of dogs, kittens, birds and even monkeys.
Proprietors shouted unceasingly for the attention of the jostling crowds of buyers. Grand Dames, dressed in silks and twirling brightly colored parasols, walked alongside peasants, beggars, Negroes and even savages. He never would have believed it, without seeing it.
Eventually he found himself seated at a table in a small cafe, his back to the bank to watch for Bart. With a colorful blue and white striped awning, the cafe provided pleasant shade as well as a panoramic view of all the many activities. Waiting for his meal and coffee, he leaned back, sighing with satisfaction.
The first part of his plan was set in action. He hired two agents to look for a prime piece of rich delta land. The land would be cleared and a manor would be built, all to create the impression that he planned to make Louisiana his home. Which he would have to do for a while.
The information his agents had gathered left no doubt that the five men he would see ruined were close to the wealthiest, if not the wealthiest, in the state. Though these men certainly deserved to be hanged, he was not going to give them the mercy of a hanging—that was too easy. Their atrocities sprang from simple greed; therefore it was their fortunes he'd see ruined. The whole endeavor was a favor to his uncle, and while he certainly didn't mind the effort this favor required, to say nothing of the results the favor would reap, the time required bothered him. Time was the enemy of life, especially his life. There would never be enough time for all he wanted to accomplish.
A friendly mulatto, serving wench placed a huge plate of gumbo, honey-baked rolls, a glass of claret and a fresh cup of coffee in front of him. Ram thanked her with a more than generous tip. He was enjoying his meal as much as the sights, sounds and bustle of the marketplace, and he took no notice of the carriage that stopped in front of the bank he had just quit. Two older women descended and entered the bank, while three fairly young ladies made
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