it was on a wild wet night in april that tony fontaine rode in from jonesboro on a latheredhorse that was half dead from exhaustion and came knocking at their door, rousing her and frankfrom sleep with their hearts in their throats. then for the second time in four months, scarlett wasmade to feel acutely what reconstruction in an its implications meant, made to understand morecompletely what was in will’s mind when he said “our troubles have just begun,” to know that thebleak words of ashley, spoken in the wind-swept orchard of tara, were true: “this that’s facing allof us is worse than war—worse than prison—worse than death.”
the first time she had come face to face with reconstruction was when she teamed that jonaswilkerson with the aid of the yankees could evict her from tara. but tony’s advent brought it allhome to her in a far more terrifying manner. tony came in the dark and the lashing rain and in afew minutes he was gone back into the night forever, but in the brief interval between he raised thecurtain on a scene of new horror, a curtain that she felt hopelessly would never be lowered again.
that stormy night when the knocker hammered on the door with such hurried urgency, she stoodon the landing, clutching her wrapper to her and, looking down into the hall below, had oneglimpse of tony’s swarthy saturnine face before he leaned forward and blew out the candle infrank’s hand. she hurried down in the darkness to grasp his cold wet hand and hear him whisper:
“they’re after me—going to texas—my horse is about dead—and i’m about starved. ashley saidyou’d— don’t light the candle! don’t wake the darkies. ... i don’t want to get you folks in troubleif i can help it.”
with the kitchen blinds drawn and all the shades pulled down to the sills, he permitted a lightand he talked to frank in swift jerky sentences as scarlett hurried about, trying to scrape together ameal for him.
he was without a greatcoat and soaked to the skin. he was hatless and his black hair wasplastered to his little skin. but the merriment of the fontaine boys, a chilling merriment that night,was in his little dancing eyes as he gulped down the whisky she brought him. scarlett thanked godthat aunt pittypat was snoring undisturbed upstairs. she would certainly swoon if she saw thisapparition.
“one damned bast—scalawag less,” said tony, holding out his glass for another drink. “i’veridden hard and it’ll cost me my skin if i don’t get out of here quick, but it was worth it by god,yes! i’m going to try to get to texas and lay low there. ashley was with me in jonesboro and hetold me to come to you all. got to have another horse, frank, and some money. my horse is nearlydead—all the way up here at a dead run—and like a fool i went out of the house today like a batout of hell without a coat or hat or a cent of money. not that there’s much money in our house.”
he laughed and applied himself hungrily to the cold corn pone and cold turnip greens on whichcongealed grease was thick in white flakes.
“you can have my horse,” said frank calmly. “i’ve only ten dollars with me but if you can waittill morning—”
“hell’s afire, i can’t wait!” said tony, emphatically but jovially. “they’re probably right behind me. i didn’t get much of a start. if it hadn’t been for ashley dragging me out of there and makingme get on my horse, i’d have stayed there like a fool and probably had my neck stretched by now.
good fellow, ashley.”
so ashley was mixed up in this frightening puzzle. scarlett went cold, her hand at her throat.
did the yankees have ashley now? why, why didn’t frank ask what it was all about? why did hetake it all so coolly, so much as a matter of course? she struggled to get the question to her lips.
“what—” she began. “who—”
“your father’s old overseer—that damned—jonas wilkerson.”
“did you—is he dead?”
“my god, scarlett o’hara!” said tony peevishly. “when i start out to cut somebody up, youdon’t think i’d be satisfied with scratching him with the blunt side of my knife, do you? no, bygod, i cut him to ribbons.”
“good,” said frank casually. “i never liked the fellow.”
scarlett looked at him. this was not the meek frank she knew, the nervous beard clawer whoshe had learned could be bullied with such ease. there was an air about him that was crisp andcool and he was meeting the emergency with no unnecessary words. he was a man and tony was aman and this situation of violence was men’s business in which a woman had no part.
“but ashley— did he—”
“no. he wanted to kill him but i told him it was my right, because sally is my sister-in-law, andhe saw reason finally. he went into jonesboro with me, in case wilkerson got me first. but i don’tthink old ash will get in any trouble about it. i hope not. got any jam for this corn pone? and canyou wrap me up something to take with me?”
“i shall scream if you don’t tell me everything.”
“wait till i’ve gone and then scream if you’ve got to. i’ll tell you about it while frank saddlesthe horse. that damned—wilkerson has caused enough trouble already, know how he did youabout your taxes. that’s just one of his meannesses. but the worst thing was the way he kept thedarkies stirred up. if anybody had told me i’d ever live to see the day when i’d hate darkies! damntheir black souls, they believe anything those scoundrels tell them and forget every living thingwe’ve done for them. now the yankees are talking about letting the darkies vote. and they won’tlet us vote. why, there’s hardly a handful of democrats in the whole county who aren’t barredfrom voting, now that they’ve ruled out every man who fought in the confederate army. and ifthey give the negroes the vote, it’s the end of us. damn it, it’s our state! it doesn’t belong to theyankees! by god, scarlett, it isn’t to be borne! and it won’t be borne! we’ll do something about itif it means another war. soon we’ll be having nigger judges, nigger legislators—black apes out ofthe jungle—”
“please—hurry, tell me! what did you do?”
“give me another mite of that pone before you wrap it up. well, the word got around thatwilkerson had gone a bit too far with his nigger-equality business. oh, yes, he talks it to thoseblack fools by the hour. he had the gall—the—” tony spluttered helplessly, “to say niggers had a right to—to—white women.”
“oh, tony, no!”
“by god, yes! i don’t wonder you look sick. but hell’s afire, scarlett, it can’t be news to you.
they’ve been telling it to them here in atlanta.”
“i—i didn’t know.”
“well, frank would have kept it from you. anyway, after that, we all sort of thought we’d callon mr. wilkerson privately by night and tend to him, but before we could— you remember thatblack buck, eustis, who used to be our foreman?”
“yes.”
“came to the kitchen door today while sally was fixing dinner and—i don’t know what he saidto her. i guess i’ll never know now. but he said something and i heard her scream and i ran into thekitchen and there he was, drunk as a fiddler’s bitch—i beg your pardon, scarlett, it just slippedout.”
“go on.”
“i shot him and when mother ran in to take care of sally, i got my horse and started tojonesboro for wilkerson. he was the one to blame. the damned black fool would never havethought of it but for him. and on the way past tara, i met ashley and, of course, he went with me.
he said to let him do it because of the way wilkerson acted about tara and i said no, it was myplace because sally was my own dead brother’s wife, and he went with me arguing the whole way.
and when we got to town, by god, scarlett, do you know i hadn’t even brought my pistol, i’d leftit in the stable. so mad i forgot—”
he paused and gnawed the tough pone and scarlett shivered. the murderous rages of thefontaines had made county history long before this chapter had opened.
“so i had to take my knife to him. i found him in the barroom. i got him in a corner with ashleyholding back the others and i told him why before i lit into him. why, it was over before i knewit,” said tony reflecting. “first thing i knew, ashley had me on my horse and told me to come toyou folks. ashley’s a good man in a pinch. he keeps his head.”
frank came in, his greatcoat over his arm, and handed it to tony. it was his only heavy coat butscarlett made no protest. she seemed so much on the outside of this affair, this purely masculineaffair.
“but tony—they need you at home. surely, if you went back and explained—”
“frank, you’ve married a fool,” said tony with a grin, struggling into the coat. “she thinks theyankees will reward a man for keeping niggers off his women folks. so they will, with a drumheadcourt and a rope. give me a kiss, scarlett. frank won’t mind and i may never see you again. texasis a long way off. i won’t dare write, so let the home folks know i got this far in safety.”
she let him kiss her and the two men went out into the driving rain and stood for a moment,talking on the back porch. then she heard a sudden splashing of hooves and tony was gone. sheopened the door a crack and saw frank leading a heaving, stumbling horse into the carriage house.
she shut the door again and sat down, her knees trembling.
now she knew what reconstruction meant, knew as well as if the house were ringed about bynaked savages, squatting in breech clouts. now there came rushing to her mind many things towhich she had given little thought recently, conversations she had heard but to which she had notlistened, masculine talk which had been checked half finished when she came into rooms, smallincidents in which she had seen no significance at the time, frank’s futile warnings to her againstdriving out to the mill with only the feeble uncle peter to protect her. now they fitted themselvestogether into one horrifying picture.
the negroes were on top and behind them were the yankee bayonets. she could be killed, shecould be raped and, very probably, nothing would ever be done about it. and anyone who avengedher would be hanged by the yankees, hanged without benefit of trial by judge and jury. yankeeofficers who knew nothing of law and cared less for the circumstances of the crime could gothrough the motions of holding a trial and put a rope around a southerner’s neck.
“what can we do?” she thought, wringing her hands in an agony of helpless fear. “what can wedo with devils who’d hang a nice boy like tony just for killing a drunken buck and a scoundrellyscalawag to protect his women folks?”
“it isn’t to be borne!” tony had cried and he was right. it couldn’t be borne. but what could theydo except bear it, helpless as they were? she fell to trembling and, for the first time in her life, shepeople and events something apart from herself, saw clearly that scarlett o’hara,frigh(saw) tenedandhelpless,was(as) not all that mattered. there were thousands of women like her, allover the south, who were frightened and helpless. and thousands of men, who had laid down theirarms at appomattox, had taken them up again and stood ready to risk their necks on a minute’snotice to protect those women.
there had been something in tony’s face which had been mirrored in frank’s, an expression shehad seen recently on the faces of other men in atlanta, a look she had noticed but had not troubledto analyze. it was an expression vastly different from the tired helplessness she had seen in thefaces of men coming home from the war after the surrender. those men had not cared aboutanything except getting home. now they were caring about something again, numbed nerves werecoming back to life and the old spirit was beginning to burn. they were caring again with a coldruthless bitterness. and, like tony, they were thinking: “it isn’t to be borne!”
she had seen southern men, soft voiced and dangerous in the days before the war, reckless andhard in the last despairing days of the fighting. but in the faces of the two men who stared at eachother across the candle flame so short a while ago there had been something that was different,something that heartened her but frightened her—fury which could find no words, determinationwhich would stop at nothing.
for the first time, she felt a kinship with the people about her, felt one with them in their fears,their bitterness, their determination. no, it wasn’t to be borne! the south was too beautiful a placeto be let go without a struggle, too loved to be trampled by yankees who hated southerners enoughto enjoy grinding them into the dirt, too dear a homeland to be turned over to ignorant negroesdrunk with whisky and freedom.
as she thought of tony’s sudden entrance and swift exit, she felt herself akin to him, for sheremembered the old story how her father had left ireland, left hastily and by night, after a murderwhich was no murder to him or to his family. gerald’s blood was in her, violent blood. sheremembered her hot joy in shooting the marauding yankee. violent blood was in them all,perilously close to the surface, lurking just beneath the kindly courteous exteriors. all of them, allthe men she knew, even the drowsy-eyed ashley and fidgety old frank, were like that underneath—murderous, violent if the need arose. even rhett, conscienceless scamp that he was, had killed anegro for being “uppity to a lady.”
“oh, frank, how long will it be like this?” she leaped to her feet.
“as long as the yankees hate us so, sugar.”
“is there nothing anybody can do?”
frank passed a tired hand over his wet beard. “we are doing things.”
“what?”
“why talk of them till we have accomplished something? it may take years. perhaps—perhapsthe south will always be like this.”
“oh, no!”
“sugar, come to bed. you must be chilled. you are shaking.”
“when will it all end?”
“when we can all vote again, sugar. when every man who fought for the south can put a ballotin the box for a southerner and a democrat.”
“a ballot?” she cried despairingly. “what good’s a ballot when the darkies have lost their minds—when the yankees have poisoned them against us?”
frank went on to explain in his patient manner, but the idea that ballots could cure the troublewas too complicated for her to follow. she was thinking gratefully that jonas wilkerson wouldnever again be a menace of tara and she was thinking about tony.
“oh, the poor fontaines!” she exclaimed. “only alex left and so much to do at mimosa. whydidn’t tony have sense enough to—to do it at night when no one would know who it was? a sightmore good he’d do helping with the spring plowing than in texas.”
frank put an arm about her. usually he was gingerly when he did this, as if he anticipated beingimpatiently shaken off, but tonight there was a far-off look in his eyes and his arm was firm abouther waist.
“there things more important now than plowing, sugar. and scaring the darkies andteachingthes(are) calawags a lesson is one of them. as long as there are fine boys like tony left, iguess we won’t need to worry about the south too much. come to bed.”
“but, frank—”
“if we just stand together and don’t give an inch to the yankees, we’ll win, some day. don’t youbother your pretty head about it, sugar. you let your men folks worry about it maybe it won’t come in our time, but surely it will come some day. the yankees will get tired of pestering uswhen they see they can’t even dent us, and then we’ll have a decent world to live in and raise ourchildren in.”
she thought of wade and the secret she had carried silently for some days. no, she didn’t wanther children raised in this welter of hate and uncertainty, of bitterness and violence lurking justbelow the surface, of poverty and grinding hardships and insecurity. she never wanted children ofhers to know what all this was like. she wanted a secure and well-ordered world in which shecould look forward and know there was a safe future ahead for them, a world where her childrenwould know only softness and warmth and good clothes and fine food.
frank thought this could be accomplished by voting. voting? what did votes matter? nicepeople in the south would never have the vote again. there was only one thing in the world thatwas a certain bulwark against any calamity which fate could bring, and that was money. shethought feverishly that they must have money, lots of it to keep them safe against disaster.
abruptly, she told him she was going to have a baby.
for weeks after tony’s escape, aunt pitty’s house was subjected to repeated searches by partiesof yankee soldiers. they invaded the house at all hours and without warning. they swarmedthrough the rooms, asking questions, opening closets, prodding clothes hampers, peering underbeds. the military authorities had heard that tony had been advised to go to miss pitty’s house,and they were certain he was still hiding there or somewhere in the neighborhood.
as a result, aunt pitty was chronically in what uncle peter called a “state,” never knowingwhen her bedroom would be entered by an officer and a squad of men. neither frank nor scarletthad mentioned tony’s brief visit, so the old lady could have revealed nothing, even had she beenso inclined. she was entirely honest in her fluttery protestations that she had seen tony fontaineonly once in her life and that was at christmas time in 1862.
“and,” she would add breathlessly to the yankee soldiers, in an effort to be helpful, “he wasquite intoxicated at the time.”
scarlett, sick and miserable in the early stage of pregnancy, alternated between a passionatehatred of the bluecoats who invaded her privacy, frequently carrying away any little knick-knackthat appealed to them, and an equally passionate fear that tony might prove the undoing of themall. the prisons were full of people who had been arrested for much less reason. she knew that ifone iota of the truth were proved against them, not only she and frank but the innocent pitty aswell would go to jail.
for some time there had been an agitation in washington to confiscate all “rebel property” topay the united states’ war debt and this agitation had kept scarlett in a state of anguishedapprehension. now, in addition to this, atlanta was full of wild rumors about the confiscation ofproperty of offenders against military law, and scarlett quaked lest she and frank lose not onlytheir freedom but the house, the store and the mill. and if their property were not appropriatedbythemilitary,itwouldbeasgoodaslostifsheand(even) frank went to jail, for whowould look after their business in their absence?
she hated tony for bringing such trouble upon them. how could he have done such a thing tofriends? and how could ashley have sent tony to them? never again would she give aid to anyoneif it meant having the yankees come down on her like a swarm of hornets. no, she would bar thedoor against anyone needing help. except, of course, ashley. for weeks after tony’s brief visit shewoke from uneasy dreams at any sound in the road outside, fearing it might be ashley trying tomake his escape, fleeing to texas because of the aid he had given tony. she did not know howmatters stood with him, for they did not dare write to tara about tony’s midnight visit. theirletters might be intercepted by the yankees and bring trouble upon the plantation as well. but,when weeks went by and they heard no bad news, they knew that ashley had somehow come clear.
and finally, the yankees ceased annoying them.
but even this relief did not free scarlett from the state of dread which began when tony cameknocking at their door, a dread which was worse than the quaking fear of the siege shells, worseeven than the terror of sherman’s men during the last days of the war. it was as if tony’sappearance that wild rainy night had stripped merciful blinders from her eyes and forced her to seethe true uncertainty of her life.
looking about her in that cold spring of 1866, scarlett realized what was facing her and thewhole south. she might plan and scheme, she might work harder than her slaves had ever worked,she might succeed in overcoming all of her hardships, she might through dint of determinationsolve problems for which her earlier life had provided no training at all. but for all her labor andsacrifice and resourcefulness, her small beginnings purchased at so great a cost might be snatchedaway from her at any minute. and should this happen, she had no legal rights, no legal redress,except those same drumhead courts of which tony had spoken so bitterly, those military courtswith their arbitrary powers. only the negroes had rights or redress these days. the yankees had thesouth prostrate and they intended to keep it so. the south had been tilted as by a giant malicioushand, and those who had once ruled were now more helpless than their former slaves had everbeen.
georgia heavily garrisoned with troops and atlanta had than its share. thecommandants of (was) the yankee troops in the various cities had complete power, (more) even the power of lifeand death, over the civilian population, and they used that power. they could and did imprison citizensfor any cause, or no cause, seize their property, hang them. they could and did harass andhamstring them with conflicting regulations about the operation of their business, the wages theymust pay their servants, what they should say in public and private utterances and what they shouldwrite in newspapers. they regulated how, when and where they must dump their garbage and theydecided what songs the daughters and wives of ex-confederates could sing, so that the singing of“dixie” or “bonnie blue flag” became an offense only a little less serious than treason. they ruledthat no one could get a letter out of. the post office without taking the iron clad oath and, in someinstances, they even prohibited the issuance of marriage licenses unless the couples had taken thehated oath.
the newspapers were so muzzled that no public protest could be raised against the injustices ordepredations of the military, and individual protests were silenced with jail sentences. the jailswere full of prominent citizens and there they stayed without hope of early trial. trial by jury andthe law of habeas corpus were practically suspended. the civil courts still functioned after a fashion but they functioned at the pleasure of the military, who could and did interfere with theirverdicts, so that citizens so unfortunate as to get arrested were virtually at the mercy of the militaryauthorities. and so many did get arrested. the very suspicion of seditious utterances against thegovernment, suspected complicity in the ku klux klan, or complaint by a negro that a white manhad been uppity to him were enough to land a citizen in jail. proof and evidence were not needed.
the accusation was sufficient. and thanks to the incitement of the freedmen’s bureau, negroescould always be found who were willing to bring accusations.
the negroes had not yet been given the right to vote but the north was determined that theyshould vote and equally determined that their vote should be friendly to the north. with this inmind, nothing was too good for the negroes. the yankee soldiers backed them up in anything theychose to do, and the surest way for a white person to get himself into trouble was to bring acomplaint of any kind against a negro.
the former slaves were now the lords of creation and, with the aid of the yankees, the lowestand most ignorant ones were on top. the better class of them, scorning freedom, were suffering asseverely as their white masters. thousands of house servants, the highest caste in the slavepopulation, remained with their white folks, doing manual labor which had been beneath them inthe old days. many loyal field hands also refused to avail themselves of the new freedom, but thehordes of “trashy free issue niggers,” who were causing most of the trouble, were drawn largelyfrom the field-hand class.
in slave days, these lowly blacks had been despised by the house negroes and yard negroes ascreatures of small worth. just as ellen had done, other plantation mistresses throughout the southhad put the pickaninnies through courses of training and elimination to select the best of them forthe positions of greater responsibility. those consigned to the fields were the ones least willing orable to learn, the least energetic, the least honest and trustworthy, the most vicious and brutish. andnow this class, the lowest in the black social order, was making life a misery for the south.
aided by the unscrupulous adventurers who operated the freedmen’s bureau and urged on by afervor of northern hatred almost religious in its fanaticism, the former field hands foundthemselves suddenly elevated to the seats of the mighty. there they conducted themselves ascreatures of small intelligence might naturally be expected to do. like monkeys or small childrenturned loose among treasured objects whose value is beyond their comprehension, they ran wild—either from perverse pleasure in destruction or simply because of their ignorance.
to the credit of the negroes, including the least intelligent of them, few were actuated by maliceand those few had usually been “mean niggers” even in slave days. but they were, as a class,childlike in mentality, easily led and from long habit accustomed to taking orders. formerly theirwhite masters had given the orders. now they had a new set of masters, the bureau and thecarpetbaggers, and their orders were: “you’re just as good as any white man, so act that way. justas soon as you can vote the republican ticket, you are going to have the white man’s property. it’sas good as yours now. take it, if you can get it!”
dazzled by these tales, freedom became a never-ending picnic, a barbecue every day of theweek, a carnival of idleness and theft and insolence. country negroes flocked into the cities,leaving the rural districts without labor to make the crops. atlanta was crowded with them and still they came by the hundreds, lazy and dangerous as a result of the new doctrines being taught them.
packed into squalid cabins, smallpox, typhoid and tuberculosis broke out among them.
accustomed to the care of their mistresses when they were ill in slave days, they did not know howto nurse themselves or their sick. relying upon their masters in the old days to care for their agedand their babies, they now had no sense of responsibility for their helpless. and the bureau was fartoo interested in political matters to provide the care the plantation owners had once given.
abandoned negro children ran like frightened animals about the town until kind-hearted whitepeople took them into their kitchens to raise. aged country darkies, deserted by their children,bewildered and panic stricken in the bustling town, sat on the curbs and cried to the ladies whopassed: “mistis, please ma’m, write mah old marster down in fayette county dat ah’s up hyah.
he’ll come tek dis ole nigger home agin. ‘fo’ gawd, ah done got nuff of dis freedom!”
the freedmen’s bureau, overwhelmed by the numbers who poured in upon them, realized toolate a part of the mistake and tried to send them back to their former owners. they told the negroesthat if they would go back, they would go as free workers, protected by written contractsspecifying wages by the day. the old darkies went back to the plantations gladly, making a heavierburden than ever on the poverty-stricken planters who had not the heart to turn them out, but theyoung ones remained in atlanta. they did not want to be workers of any kind, anywhere. whywork when the belly is full?
for the first time in their lives the negroes were able to get all the whisky they might want. inslave days, it was something they never tasted except at christmas, when each one received a“drap” along with his gift. now they had not only the bureau agitators and the carpetbaggersurging them on, but the incitement of whisky as well, and outrages were inevitable. neither life norproperty was safe from them and the white people, unprotected by law, were terrorized. men wereinsulted on the streets by drunken blacks, houses and barns were burned at night, horses and cattleand chickens stolen in broad daylight, crimes of all varieties were committed and few of the perpetratorswere brought to justice.
but these ignominies and dangers were as nothing compared with the peril of white women,many bereft by the war of male protection, who lived alone in the outlying districts and on lonelyroads. it was the large number of outrages on women and the ever-present fear for the safety oftheir wives and daughters that drove southern men to cold and trembling fury and caused the kuklux klan to spring up overnight. and it was against this nocturnal organization that thenewspapers of the north cried out most loudly, never realizing the tragic necessity that brought itinto being. the north wanted every member of the ku klux hunted down and hanged, becausethey had dared take the punishment of crime into their own hands at a time when the ordinaryprocesses of law and order had been overthrown by the invaders.
here was the astonishing spectacle of half a nation attempting, at the point of bayonet, to forceupon the other half the rule of negroes, many of them scarcely one generation out of the africanjungles. the vote must be given to them but it must be denied to most of their former owners. thesouth must be kept down and disfranchisement of the whites was one way to keep the south down.
most of those who had fought for the confederacy, held office under it or given aid and comfort toit were not allowed to vote, had no choice in the selection of their public officials and were whollyunder the power of an alien rule. many men, thinking soberly of general lee’s words and example, wished to take the oath, become citizens again and forget the past. but they were notpermitted to take it. others who were permitted to take the oath, hotly refused to do so, scorning toswear allegiance to a government which was deliberately subjecting them to cruelty andhumiliation.
scarlett heard over and over until she could have screamed at the repetition: “i’d have takentheir damned oath right after the surrender if they’d acted decent i can be restored to the union, butby god, i can’t be reconstructed into it!”
through these anxious days and nights, scarlett was torn with fear. the ever-present menace oflawless negroes and yankee soldiers preyed on her mind, the danger of confiscation was constantlywith her, in her dreams, and she dreaded worse terrors to come. depressed by thehelplessnessof(even) herself and her friends, of the whole south, it was not strange that she oftenremembered during these days the words which tony fontaine had spoken so passionately:
“god god, scarlett, it isn’t to be borne! and it won’t be borne!”
in spite of war, fire and reconstruction, atlanta had again become a boom town. in many ways,the place resembled the busy young city of the confederacy’s early days. the only trouble was thatthe soldiers crowding the streets wore the wrong kind of uniforms, the money was in the hands ofthe wrong people, and the negroes were living in leisure while their former masters struggled andstarved.
underneath the surface were misery and fear, but all the outward appearances were those of athriving town that was rapidly rebuilding from its ruins, a bustling, hurrying town. atlanta, itseemed, must always be hurrying, no matter what its circumstances might be. savannah,charleston, augusta, richmond, new orleans would never hurry. it was ill bred and yankeefied tohurry. but in this period, atlanta was more ill bred and yankeefied than it had ever been before orwould ever be again. with “new people” thronging in from all directions, the streets were chokedand noisy from morning till night. the shiny carriages of yankee officers’ wives and newly richcarpetbaggers splashed mud on the dilapidated buggies of the townspeople, and gaudy new homesof wealthy strangers crowded in among the sedate dwellings of older citizens.
the war had definitely established the importance of atlanta in the affairs of the south and thehitherto obscure town was now known far and wide. the railroads for which sherman had foughtan entire summer and killed thousands of men were again stimulating the life of the city they hadbrought into being. atlanta was again the center of activities for a wide region, as it had beenbefore its destruction, and the town was receiving a great influx of new citizens, both welcome andunwelcome.
invading carpetbaggers made atlanta their headquarters and on the streets they jostled againstrepresentatives of the oldest families in the south who were likewise newcomers in the town.
families from the country districts who had been burned out during sherman’s march and whocould no longer make a living without the slaves to till the cotton had come to atlanta to live. newsettlers were coming in every day from tennessee and the carolinas where the hand ofreconstruction lay even heavier than in georgia. many irish and germans who had been bounty men in the union army had settled in atlanta after their discharge. the wives and families of theyankee garrison, filled with curiosity about the south after four years of war, came to swell thepopulation. adventurers of every kind swarmed in, hoping to make their fortunes, and the negroesfrom the country continued to come by the hundreds.
the town was roaring—wide open like a frontier village, making no effort to cover its vices andsins. saloons blossomed overnight, two and sometimes three in a block, and after nightfall thestreets were full of drunken men, black and white, reeling from wall to curb and back again.
thugs, pickpockets and prostitutes lurked in the unlit alleys and shadowy streets. gambling housesran full blast and hardly a night passed without its shooting or cutting affray. respectable citizenswere scandalized to find that atlanta had a large and thriving red-light district, larger and morethriving than during the war. all night long pianos jangled from behind drawn shades and rowdysongs and laughter floated out, punctuated by occasional screams and pistol shots. the inmates ofthese houses were bolder than the prostitutes of the war days and brazenly hung out of theirwindows and called to passers-by. and on sunday afternoons, the handsome closed carriages ofthe madams of the district rolled down the main streets, filled with girls in their best finery, takingthe air from behind lowered silk shades.
belle watling was the most notorious of the madams. she had opened a new house of her own, alarge two-story building that made neighboring houses in the district look like shabby rabbitwarrens. there was a long barroom downstairs, elegantly hung with oil paintings, and a negroorchestra played every night. the upstairs, so rumor said, was fitted out with the finest of plushupholstered furniture, heavy lace curtains and imported mirrors in gilt frames. the dozen youngladies with whom the house was furnished were comely, if brightly painted, and comportedthemselves more quietly than those of other houses. at least, the police were seldom summoned tobelle’s.
this house was something that the matrons of atlanta whispered about furtively and ministerspreached against in guarded terms as a cesspool of iniquity, a hissing and a reproach. everyoneknew that a woman of belle’s type couldn’t have made enough money by herself to set up such aluxurious establishment. she had to have a backer and a rich one at that. and rhett butler hadnever had the decency to conceal his relations with her, so it was obvious that he and no other mustbe that backer. belle herself presented a prosperous appearance when glimpsed occasionally in herclosed carriage driven by an impudent yellow negro. when she drove by, behind a fine pair ofbays, all the little boys along the street who could evade their mothers ran to peer at her andwhisper excitedly: “that’s her! that’s ole belle! i seen her red hair!”
shouldering the shell-pitted houses patched with bits of old lumber and smoke-blackened bricks,the fine homes of the carpetbaggers and war profiteers were rising, with mansard roofs, gables andturrets, stained-glass windows and wide lawns. night after night, in these newly built homes, thewindows were ablaze with gas light and the sound of music and dancing feet drifted out upon theair. women in stiff bright-colored silks strolled about long verandas, squired by men in eveningclothes. champagne corks popped, and on lace tablecloths seven-course dinners were laid. hamsin wine, pressed duck, paté de foie gras, rare fruits in and out of season, were spread in profusion.
behind the shabby doors of the old houses, poverty and hunger lived—all the more bitter for thebrave gentility with which they were borne, all the more pinching for the outward show of proud indifference to material wants. dr. meade could tell unlovely stories of those families who hadbeen driven from mansions to boarding houses and from boarding houses to dingy rooms on backstreets. he had too many lady patients who were suffering from “weak hearts” and “declines.” heknew, and they knew he knew, that slow starvation was the trouble. he could tell of consumptionmaking inroads on entire families and of pellagra, once found only among poor whites, which wasnow appearing in atlanta’s best families. and there were babies with thin rickety legs and motherswho could not nurse them. once the old doctor had been wont to thank god reverently for eachchild he brought into the world. now he did not think life was such a boon. it was a hard world forlittle babies and so many died in their first few months of life.
bright lights and wine, fiddles and dancing, brocade and broadcloth in the showy big housesand, just around the corners, slow starvation and cold. arrogance and callousness for theconquerors, bitter endurance and hatred for the conquered.
四月的一个黑夜，外面上着暴雨，托尼·方丹从琼斯博罗骑着一匹大汗淋漓累得半死的马来到他们家门口敲门，将弗兰克和思嘉从睡梦中惊醒，搞得他们心惊肉跳。这是四个月以来思嘉第二次敏锐地感觉到重建时期的全部含义是什么，而且更深刻地理解了威尔说"我们的麻烦还刚刚开始"的含意，同时也懂得了艾希礼那天在寒冷飕飕的塔拉果园里说的那些凄凉的话是多么正确----他当时说：“我们大家面对的是比战争还在坏、比监狱还在坏----比死亡还要坏的局面呢。"她首次与重建时期直接地接触是她听说乔纳斯·威尔克森在北方佬支持下要将她从塔拉撵出去的时候。但这次托尼的到来以一种可怕多的方式使她更深切地明白了重建时期的含义。托尼在黑夜里冒着大雨奔来，几分钟之后又重新消失在黑夜里，但就在这短暂的时间内他拉开了一场新恐怖剧的帷幕，而思嘉绝望地感到这帷幕永远也不会再落下来了。
在那个下大雨的夜晚，来人急促地敲打着他们家大门，思嘉披着围巾站在楼梯平台上往下面大厅一看，瞧见了托尼那张黝黑阴郁的面孔，而托尼上前立即把弗兰克手里的蜡烛吹灭了。她赶紧摸黑下楼，紧握着她那双冰冷潮湿的手，听他轻轻地说：“他们在追我----我要到得克萨斯去----我的马快死了----我也快饿死了。艾希礼说你们会----可不要点蜡烛呀！千万不要把黑人弄醒了。……我希望尽可能不给你们带来什么麻烦。"直到厨房里的百叶窗被放下来，所有的帘子也都拉到了底之后，托尼才允许点上一支蜡烛，向弗兰克急急忙忙说起来，思嘉则在一旁忙碌着为他张罗吃的。
他没有穿大衣，浑身都被雨淋透了，帽子也没戴，一头黑发在小脑壳上。不过，当他一口吞下思嘉端来的威士忌之后，那双飞舞的小眼睛又流露出方丹家小伙子们的快活劲儿，尽管在当时情况下，它有点令人寒心。思嘉感谢上帝，幸亏皮蒂小姐正在楼上大打呼噜，没有被惊醒，否则她看见这个幽灵准会晕过去的。
“该死的杂种，不中用的家伙，"托尼咒骂着，一面伸出杯子想再要一杯。"我已经精疲力尽了，不过要是我不迅速离开这里，我的这张ae？就完了，不过这也值得。上帝作证，真是如此！我如今得设法赶到得克萨斯去，在那里藏起来。艾希礼在琼斯博罗跟我在一起，是他叫我来找你们的。弗兰克，我得另外找一骑马，还得在一点钱。我这骑马快要死了----它一路上在拼命赶呢—-我今天像个傻瓜，像从地狱里出来的蝙蝠一样从家里跑出来，既没穿大衣又没戴帽子，身上一个钱子儿也没有。不过家里也真没多少钱了。"说着说着他竟笑起来，开始贪婪地吃着涂了厚厚一层冻黄油的凉玉米面包和凉萝卜叶子。
“你可以把我的马骑去，"弗兰克平静地说。"我手头只有十块钱，不过，要是思你能等明天早晨----"“啊，地狱着了火，我可等不及了！"托尼加重语气但仍很高兴地说。"也许他们就在我后面。我就是急急忙忙动身的。
要不是艾希礼把我从那里拉出来，催我赶快上马，我会像个傻瓜似的还待在那里，说不定现在已经被绞死了。艾希礼可真是个好人。"这么说，艾希礼也卷进了这个可怕的令人费解的事件中去了。思嘉浑身冷得发抖，心快蹦到喉咙里了。北方佬现在抓到了艾希礼没有？为什么弗兰克不问个究竟？为什么他把这一切看得如此平淡，似乎是理所当然的呢？她忍不住开口提问了。
“是什么事情----是谁----”
“是你父亲过去的监工----那个该死的乔纳斯·威尔克森。"“是你把----他打死了吗？"“天哪，思嘉·奥哈拉！"托尼愤怒地说。"要是我打算杀了某某人，你不会以为我只拿刀子钝的那面刮他一下就满意了吧？不，天哪，我将他碎尸万段了。"“好，"弗兰克平静地说。"我向来就不喜欢这个家伙。"思嘉向他看了看。这可不像她所了解的那个温顺的弗兰克，那个她觉得可以随便欺侮、只会胆怯地捋胡子的人。他此时显得那么干脆、冷静，在紧急情况面前一句废话也不说了。他成了一个男子汉，托尼也是个男子汉，而这种暴乱场合正是他们男子汉大显身手的时候，可没有女人的份儿呢。
“不过艾希礼----他有没有----”
“没有。他想杀那人家伙，但我告诉他这是我的权利，因为萨莉是我的弟媳。最后他明白了这个道理。他同我一起去琼斯博罗，怕万一威尔克森先伤了我。不过我并不认为艾希礼会受到牵连的。但愿如此。给我在这玉米面包上涂点果酱好吗？能不能再给我包点东西留在路上吃？"“要是你不把一切情况都告诉我，我可要大声嚷嚷了。"“等我走了以后，如果你想嚷嚷就请便吧。趁弗兰克给我备马的这会儿功夫，我把事情讲给你听吧。那个该死的-威尔克森早就惹了不少麻烦。你当然知道，他在你的税金问题上做了些什么文章。这只不过是他卑鄙无耻的一个方面罢了。
最可恨的是他不断煽动那些黑人。要是有人告诉我，说我能活着看到我可以憎恨黑人的那一天就好了。那些黑人真该死，他们居然相信那帮流氓告诉他们的一切，却忘了我们为他们做的每一件事情。现在北方佬又主张要让黑人参加选举，可他们却不让我们选举。嗨，全县几乎只有极少几个民主党人没有被剥夺选举权了，因为他们又排除了所有在联盟军部队里打过仗的人呢。要是他们让黑人有选举权，我们就完了，该死的，这是我们的国家呀！并不属于北方佬！天哪，思嘉，这实在无法忍受，也不能忍受了！我们得起来干，即便这导致着另一场战争也在所不惜，很我们便将有黑人法官，黑人议员----全是些从树林里蹦出来的黑猴子----"“请你----快点告诉我吧！你到底干了什么？"“慢点包，让我再吃口玉米面包吧。是这样，据说威尔克森干的那些搞黑人平等的事走得实在太远了点。他成天同那些傻黑鬼谈这些事，他竟胆敢-—"托尼无奈地急急地说，“说黑人有权跟----白种女人----"“唔，托尼，不会呢！"“天哪，就是这样！你好像很伤心，这我并不奇怪。不过，地狱着了火，思嘉，这对你来说，不会是新闻了。他们在亚特兰大这里也正在对黑鬼这样说呢。"“这我----我可不知道。"“唔，一定是弗兰克不让你知道。不管怎样，在这之后我们大家认为我们得在夜里私下去拜访威尔克森先生，教训他一顿，可是还没等我们去----你记得那个叫尤斯蒂斯的黑鬼吗，就是过去一直在我们家当工头的那个人？"“记得。"“就是那个尤斯蒂斯，今天萨莉正在厨房做饭的时候，他跑到厨房里面----我不知道他跟她说了些什么。我想我再也不会知道他说些什么了。反正他说了些什么，拉着我听见萨莉尖叫起来，便跑到厨房里去，只见他站在那里，喝得烂醉像个浪荡子----思嘉，请原凉我说漏了嘴。"“说下去吧。"”我用枪把他打死了，母亲急急忙忙赶来照顾萨莉，我便骑上马跑到琼斯博罗去找威尔克森，他是应该对此负责的。要不是他，那该死的傻黑鬼是决不会想到干这种事情。一路经过塔拉时，我碰到了艾希礼，当然他便跟我一起去了。他说让他来干掉威尔克森，因为他早想对他在塔拉的行为进行报复了。不过我说不行，因为萨莉是我死去的同胞兄弟的妻子，所以这该是我的事。他一路上跟我争论不休。等我们到了城里，天哪，思嘉你看，我竟没带手枪！我把它丢在马房里了。
把我给气疯了----”
他停下来，咬一了口硬面包，这时思嘉在发抖。方丹家族中那种危险的狂暴性格在本县历史上早就闻名了。
“所以我只得用刀子来对付他。我在酒吧间找到了他，把他逼到一个角落里，艾希礼把别的人挡祝我首先向他说明来意，然后才将刀子猛戳过去，随即，还没等我明白过来事情便完了，"托尼边想，边说着。"等我明白过来的第一件事是艾希礼让我上马，叫我到你们这里来，艾希礼在紧要关头是个好样的。他一直保持着清醒的头脑。"弗兰克拿着自己的大衣进来了，顺手把大衣递给了托尼。
这是他唯一的一件厚大衣，但思嘉没有表示异议。她好像对这件事完全站在局外，这可纯粹是男人的事呀。
“不过，托尼，家里需要你着呢。真的，要是你回去解释一下----"“弗兰克，你真是娶个傻老婆呀，"托尼一面挣扎着把大衣穿上，一面列着嘴笑笑。"她可能还以为北方佬会给一个保护女同胞不受黑鬼污辱的男人发奖呢。他们会发的，那就是临时法庭和一根绳子。思嘉，亲我一下吧，弗兰克，你可别介意，我也许和你从此永别了。得克萨斯离这里远着呢。我可不敢写信，所以请告诉我家里人，到目前为止，我还平安无事。"思嘉让他亲了一下，两个男人便一起走出去，进入倾盆大雨之中。他们在后门口又站了一会说了些什么。接着，思嘉突然听到一阵马蹄溅水的声音，托尼走了，她打开一道门缝，看见弗兰克牵着一匹喘着气、跌跌绊绊的马进了马房。她关上门，颓然坐下，两个膝盖仍在发抖。
现在她知道重建运动究竟意味着什么了，就像知道如果家里被一群只束着遮羞布蹲在那里的光身子野人所包围时意味着什么一样。归近许多她很少想到的事情如今一下子涌上了心头，比如说，她听到过但当时并没有在意去听的那些话，男人们正在进行但她一进来便中止的议论，还有一些当是看来并没有什么意思的小事情，以及弗兰克费尽心机地警告她不要在只有虚弱的彼得大叔保护下赶车去木厂，等等。现在这一切汇在一起，便形成一幅令人害怕的景象了。
黑人爬到了上层，他们背后有北方佬的刺刀保护着。思嘉可能被人杀死，被人强奸，对于这种事很可能谁也没有办法。要有人替他报仇，这个人就会被北方佬绞死，也无需经过法官和陪审团的审判。那些对法律一窍不通、对犯罪情节毫不在意的北方佬军官门，只需草草经过举行一次审判的动议，便可以把绞索套到南方人的脖子上了。
“我们怎么办呢？"她双手绞着，处于一种恐怖无依的极端痛苦之中。"那些魔鬼会绞死像托尼这样好的小伙子，就为他为了保护自己的女同胞而杀死了一个黑醉鬼和一个恶棍般的无赖，对这些魔鬼我们怎么办呀？"“实在无法忍受！"托尼曾经大声呐喊过，他是对的。实在是无法忍受。不过他们既然无依无靠，不忍受又怎么办呢？
她开始浑身发抖，并且有生以来第一次客观地看待一些人和事，清楚地认识到吓怕了孤弱无助的思嘉·奥哈拉并不是世界上唯一重要的事了。成千上成像她那样的女人遍布南方，她们都吓怕了，都是些孤弱无助的人。还有成千上万的男人，他们本来在阿波马托克斯放下了武器，现在又将武器拿起来，准备随时冒生命危险去保护这些女人。
托尼脸上显出某种在弗兰克脸上也反映出来的表情，一种她最近在亚特兰大别的男人脸上也看见了的表情，一种她注意到了但没有想到要去分析的神色。这种表情同投降后从战场上回来的男人脸上那种厌倦而无可奈何的表情完全不一样。当时那些男人只想回家，别的什么也不管。可现在他们又在关心某些事情了，麻木的神经恢复了知觉，原先的锐气又在燃烧。他们正怀着一种残酷无情的痛苦在重新关心周围的一切。像托尼一样，他们也在思索：”实在无法忍受！"她见过多少南方的男人，他们在战前说话温和，但好勇斗险，在最后战斗的绝望日子里不顾一切，坚韧不拔。但是，就在短短的片刻之前，从那两个男人隔着烛光相对注视的面孔中，她看到了某种不同的东西，某种使她感到振奋而又害怕的东西----那是无法形容的愤怒，难以阻挡的决心。
她第一次觉得自己同周围的人有了一种类似亲属的亲密关系，感到与他们的愤怒、痛苦和决心已融为一体了。的确，实在难以忍受！南方是这么美好的一个地方，决不容许轻易放弃它；南方是如此可爱，决不容许那些痛恨南方人、想把他们碾得粉碎的北方佬来加取践踏；南方是这么珍贵的家乡，决不容许让它落在那些沉醉在威士忌和自由之中的无知黑人手中。
她一想到托尼的匆匆到来，便觉得自己与他有了血缘关系，因为她想起她父亲在一次对他或他的家族来说不算杀人的谋杀事件之后连夜匆匆离开爱尔兰的故事。她身上有杰拉尔德的血，暴力的血。他记起自己开枪打死那个抢东西的北方佬时那股激动的高兴劲儿。他们身上都有暴力的血，它危险地接近表面，就潜伏在那温文尔雅的外貌下。他们大家，她认识的所有男人，连那两眼朦胧的艾希礼和哆哆嗦嗦的老弗兰克也在内，都有那种潜伏在底下的品质----必要时都能杀人，都会使用暴力。就连瑞德这个没有一点道德观念的流氓，也因为一个黑人"对贵妇人傲慢无礼"而把他杀了呢。
当弗兰克浑身湿淋淋，咳嗽着进来时，她才猛地一跃而起。
“唔，弗兰克，像这种日子，我们还要熬多久呀？"“只要北方佬还恨我们，我们就得过下去，宝贝儿。"“难道就没有了一点办法吗？"弗兰克用疲倦的手捋了捋湿胡子。"我们正在想办法呢。"“什么办法？"“干吗不等我们搞出点名堂以后再谈呢？也许得花好多年的时间。也许----也许南方将永远是这个样子了。”“唔，不会的。"“宝贝儿，睡觉去吧。你一定着凉了。你在发抖。"“这一切什么时候才结束呀？"“等我们大家有权利，可以投票选举的时候，宝贝儿。等每一个为南方打过仗的人都能投票选举南方人和民主党人的时候。““投票选举？"她绝望地叫喊道。"投票选举管什么用，要是黑人都失去了理智----要是北方佬毒化了他们，让他们反对我们？"弗兰克耐心地跟她解释，可是说通过投票选举能摆脱这一困境，这道理实在令人费解，她怎能听得懂呢。对于乔纳斯·威尔克森永远不会再对塔拉构成威胁了。她十分感激她还在想托尼。
“啊，可怜的方丹这一家！"她大声叫喊道。"只剩下亚历克斯了，而在米莫萨却有那么多的事情要做。托尼干吗不理智一点-—等到半夜再干，那样是谁干的就没人知道了。春耕的时候他要能帮上忙。比在得克萨斯要强得多了。"弗兰克伸出臂膀搂住她。通常他总是战战兢兢地搂她，好像总感到她会不耐烦地推开。而今夜他的眼睛似乎望着遥远的地方，竟无所畏惧地把她的腰紧紧搂住了。
“如今有比耕种更重要的事情要做呀，宝贝儿。教训这些黑鬼，狠狠地打击那些无赖，这就是我们要做的事情之一。只要像托尼这样的好青年还在，我想我们就不用过多地为南方担忧。让我们去睡吧。"“不过，弗兰克----"“我们只要团结在一起，对北方佬寸步不让，我们总有一天会胜利的。别让你那可爱的小脑袋瓜为这事烦恼了，宝贝儿。让男同胞的去操心吧。也许那一天不会在我们这一代来临，但相信总有一会来到的。当北方佬看到他们无法削弱我们的力量，他们会感到腻烦，不再纠缠我们。到那时候，我们就可以一个合我们意的世界里生活，养育我们的子女了。"她想起韦德，还有好几天来暗藏在她心头的那个秘密。
不，她决不愿意让她的孩子们在充满仇恨和不安、酝酿着暴力和痛苦，陷于贫穷、苦难和危险的一片混乱之中成长。她决不希望她的孩子们知道这一切。她需要一个安定的、有良好秩序的世界，可以让她朝前看，深信孩子们未来平平安安的。她希望她的孩子们面对的是宽厚、温暖和丰衣足食的世界。
弗兰克以为这一理想可以通地投票选举来实现。投票选举？那又用吗？南方的好人再也不会有选举权了。世界上只有一种东西，一种能抵抗命运带来任何灾难的可靠保障，那就是金钱。她狂热地向往着要有钱，要有许多许多钱，便他们能抵抗一切灾难，平平安安。
她突然告诉弗兰克，她快要有孩子了。
托尼逃走以后的几星期日子日子里，皮蒂姑妈家屡遭北方佬大兵的搜查。他们事先不打招呼随时闯进屋里来，在各个房间穿来穿去，见人便盘问，翻箱倒柜，甚至连床底下也要搜查。军方当局听说有人曾劝过托尼到皮蒂小姐家去，因此他们断定他藏在那里或附近什么地方。
这样，皮蒂姑妈便经常处于彼得大叔所谓的"过分紧张"之中，不知道什么时候自己的卧室里会闯入一个军官和一帮子大兵。弗兰克和思嘉都没有提到过托尼的匆匆来访，因此老太太即便想透露出透露不出任何消息来。她哆哆嗦嗦地分辩她有生以来只见过一次托尼·方丹。那是1862年的圣诞节，这话倒一点不假。
“而且，"她为了把情况说得更有利些，又赶忙向北方佬士兵们补充一句，"那时候他喝得烂醉呢。"思嘉刚刚怀孕，感到很不舒服，心情也很不好，一方面很憎恨那些穿蓝军服的大兵闯入她的私室，顺手牵羊拿走一些他们喜欢的小玩意儿，一方面也非常害怕托尼的事会最终毁了他们大家。监狱里关满了人，他们都是没有多少理由便被抓进去的。她晓得哪怕查出来蛛丝马迹，不仅她和弗兰克，就连无事的皮蒂也得去坐牢。
有一段时间华盛顿大肆宣传动没收全部"叛逆者的财产"，以便偿还合众国战绩。这种宣传鼓动合得思嘉处于一种极为痛苦的忧虑之中。此处，当前亚特兰大还盛传一种谣言，说凡是触犯军法者都要没收其财产，思嘉知道了更是吓得发抖，生怕她和弗兰克不仅会失去自由，还会失去房子、店ae蘚par和木厂。即使财产没有被军方没收，但是如果她和弗兰克被送进了监狱，那同没收还有什么两样呢，要是他们自己不在，谁来照管他们的生意呀？
她埋怨托尼给他们带来了可怕的麻烦。托尼怎样对自己的朋友作出这样的事来？艾希礼怎么会叫托尼到他们这里来呢？她再也不愿帮任何人的忙了，因为这似乎意味着让北方佬像一窝蜂似地拥来向她勒索。是的，她会将需要她帮助的人都拒之门外。当然艾希礼除外。托尼来过之后的几个星ae赲par里，只要外面路上有一点动静，她便会从不安的睡梦中惊醒，生怕是艾希礼由于帮了托尼的忙也在设法逃跑，到得克萨斯去。她不知道艾希礼现在的情况怎样，因为他们不敢往塔拉写信透露托尼半夜来访的事。他们的信可能会被北方佬截取，给农场带来麻烦。但是几个星期过去了，没有什么坏消息传来，知道艾希礼总算没有被牵连上。最后，北方佬也不再来打扰他们了。
但是，即使这样，思嘉仍然没有从托尼来访时开始的恐惧中摆脱出来。这种恐惧比围城时的炮弹所引起的震惊更为厉害，甚至比战争最后几天里谢尔曼的部队所造成的恐怖还要厉害。似乎托尼在那个暴风雨之夜的出现一下子把她眼前那幅仁慈的ae？障搬走了，迫使她看到了自己的生活确实是很不牢靠的。
1866年早春，思嘉环顾周围，明白了自己和整个南方面临着怎样的前途。她可以筹划和设计未来，她可以比自己的奴隶干得更加卖力，她可以战胜种种艰难困苦，她可以凭藉自己的坚强意志解决她在早年生活中从未经历过的种种问题。然而，无论她作出多大的努力和牺牲。也无论她有多大的应变能力，她那付出了巨大代价才创立的一个小小开端却可能随时被人家一把夺走。如果真的发生这样的事情，那么除了像托尼痛苦地提到过的那种临时法庭和横行霸道的军画裁判之外，她是没有任何合法权利，也不可能得到任何补偿的。那些日子只有黑人才拥有权利或者能取得补偿。北方佬已经使南方屈服了，他们还打算继续下去。南方就像被一只狠毒的巨手弄得完全颠倒了，过去当权的人现在比他们以前的奴隶还要束手无策了。
佐治亚州到处有重兵把守，派到亚特兰大的人比别的地方更多，各个城市北方佬部队的指挥官们有着绝对的权利，对于当地居民甚至操有生杀大权，而且他们行使了这种权利。他们可以而且确实凭一点点微不足道理由或者无缘无故地将市民送进监狱，夺走他们的财产，将他们绞死。他们可以确实用种种自相矛盾的法规来折磨市民，例如，怎样经商、付仆人多少工资、在公开或私下场合说什么话、给报纸写什么文章，等等，都是有规定的。他们甚至规定垃圾该什么时候倒，倒在什么地方，如何倒法。他们规定过去南部联盟拥护者的妻子女儿只能唱什么样的歌，因此谁要是唱了《狄克西》或《美丽的蓝旗》，便构成仅次于叛逆的罪名了。他们规定任何人如果没有履行"绝对忠诚"的宣誓，就休想从邮局领取信件。他们甚至禁止发给新婚夫妇结婚证书，除非他们乖乖地宣读了这令人憎恶的誓言。
报界被剥夺了言论自由，以致军方的种种目无法纪或劫掠行为根本没有敢提出公开的抗议，而个人的抗议也由于惧怕遭到逮捕而沉默下来。监狱里关满了有声望的市民，他们待在那里没有获得早日审判的希望。陪审团审讯和人身保护法实际上都已废除。民事法庭勉强还存在，但完全由军方随心所欲人地行使职能。军方可以也确实在干预裁决，所以那些