My name is Ashley Wilkes. I was born in 1843 at Twelve Oaks, in Clayton County, Atlanta, Georgia. I was born into a land that doesn't exist anymore, the Old South. It was a land of refinement, and of propriety, where a gentleman's honour was worth everything. The men were chivalrous and honorable. The women were unfailingly charming. Our family owned an extensive cotton plantation, which was worked by enslaved darkies, as all the plantations were back then. My father managed his many slaves with fairness and compassion. At least that is how I remember it. It could be that I only remember that which I wish to remember, but so be it. This is my story.
I had an idyllic childhood. I was educated at home by a private tutor, and received a thorough grounding in all the usual subjects including history, geography. Latin, French, English literature, music, art and the Classics. In addition I was given a free rein to enjoy my father's extensive library where I spent countless happy hours broadening my horizons far beyond the boundaries of Clayton County.
I had two sisters, India and Honey. They had many accomplishments. They both played and sang beautifully. They were well read and spoke French. They were trained to one day oversee the management of their own large households.
We loved to socialise in those days, with other planter families who lived nearby. Our closest neighbours were the O'Haras, the Calverts, the Tarletons, and the Fountaines. In the summer hardly a week went by when we weren't all over at one another's place for a barbeque or a ball.
When I was seventeen My father sent me on a tour of Europe to complete my education. It was incredible to visit so many famous places I had read about, and to see ancient structures still standing. But I was glad eventually, to get back to the familiarity of home and family.
I thought that life would go on, much as it always had. That one day I would take my father's place as the owner of Twelve Oaks, and that one day my sons would follow on in my place. I had already begun to think about how I would run the plantation. I pondered how to emancipate the slaves and still run a profitable plantation. But alas, it was not to be.
Everything changed one sunny day in April 1861. I remember that day as if it were yesterday. We were holding a barbeque at Twelve Oaks, and all our friends and neighbours were there. It was a grand occasion, to celebrate the announcement of my engagement to my dear Melanie. For as long as I can remember, I had known that I would marry Melanie. She was my cousin, and we understood each other very well. She would have made a wonderful mistress for Twelve Oaks, but sadly things did not turn out that way.
Melanie's brother Charles also had an understanding with my sister Honey. That was before Scarlett upset the applecart.
Ah yes, Scarlett. Allow me to introduce you to Miss Scarlett O'Hara. She was the eldest of Mr Gerald O'Hara's three daughters, and to be honest I had never paid much attention to her before I went away to Europe. She had always been a bit of a tomboy. On my return however, I found that she had suddenly blossomed into a most remarkable young lady, so vivacious and charming, and so stunningly beautiful. Her waist was so small that I believe I could have encircled it with my two hands. All the young men of my acquaintance were quite smitten with her, myself included.
On the day of that last barbeque at Twelve Oaks Scarlett wore a green muslin dress with a neckline low enough for a dancing dress. It was much too low for a morning dress, and I don't know what her father was thinking to let her wear it. Thankfully I had my Melanie beside me so was able to avoid being disturbed by the sight of Scarlett's alabaster skin.
I have never spoken to anyone of this before, but that afternoon I had a most disturbing encounter with Scarlett. I had just come back into the house having farewelled the matrons and children who were not staying for the evening entertainments, when I heard a noise in the library. I poked my head in to investigate and found Scarlett just inside the door. I was quite at a loss to know what she was doing there, as all the other young ladies were resting upstairs at the time and I knew that books held no charm for Scarlett. She seemed quite agitated so I stepped in and closed the door behind me. I hesitate to say even now what passed between us that day. She said things to me that no woman should say to a man who is not her husband. And she cornered me into admitting that I cared for her. How could I have said otherwise? To say I did not care would have been most unchivalrous, and frankly untrue. I adored her, and I admit it quickened my pulse to hear her declare her love for me. But Melanie was a better choice for me. Melanie and I understood each other in a way that Scarlett never would. When Scarlett realised that she could not sway me from my choice, she lost her temper in a most unladylike manner, which only served to reinforce to me that I had indeed made the right choice.
Somewhat shaken by my encounter with Scarlett, I was relieved to rejoin the men on the lawn, but the peace was short lived. In fact, my peaceful life ended forever that afternoon, as the news reached us that war had been declared. Mr Lincoln was calling for seventy five thousand volunteers. A cold shiver of dread ran through me. I had read enough about wars to know that life would never be the same.
Melanie and I were to have married in autumn, but our wedding was moved forward to the first of May so that I could leave with the Cavalry troop as soon as it was called into service. The day before our wedding, Scarlett married Melanie's brother Charles. Poor Charles, I don't think he had any idea what he was letting himself in for. But that is disloyal to Scarlett, I shouldn't say such things. Tragically Charles died of pneumonia barely two months after his nuptials, so I can only hope that his brief marriage fulfilled his hopes.
I went off to war then, with the troop, leaving Melanie in Atlanta with her aunt Pittypat, who had raised her and Charles after they were orphaned.
Life as a soldier was hard. We endured cold, hunger. lice, dysentery, inadequate clothing, mud, tiredness, danger, injury and death. Plenty of death. We had no say in what we did or where we went. Or who we rubbed shoulders with. Every day was a struggle. But these things I do not need to tell you, for all wars are like this. All the same, it is difficult to watch one's friends die.
I only got leave once. It was Christmas, and I arrived back in Atlanta feeling very weary. What I would have really loved was a nice long soak in a hot bath and then to sit quietly with my wife. Melly was always pleasant company. She never pressed me to talk when I wished to be silent, but she was a ready listener when I wanted to speak. She understood me like no one else. But my Father and India and Honey were all there too, eager to hear tales of the war. So I had to put on a brave face and regale them with entertaining yarns about my 'adventures'. There was so little I could say without distressing them, it was almost a relief to get back on the train. It was bitter parting with Melly, I was afraid for her. She was looking so delicate, I think all the nursing she was doing was wearing her out. And I was afraid of what would become of her if I were killed.
Scarlett was there in Aunt Pitty's house that Christmas too. She had come to stay with Melly after Charles died. Perhaps you thought I had forgotten to mention her, but I could never forget Scarlett. No, but she stands apart from the others and I could not lump her in with them. Where others were worn out and fearful, Scarlett was always vibrantly, passionately alive. She let me know that Christmas that her feelings for me were unchanged. She could have had anyone, yet for some inexplicable reason she wanted me. She was such a vision of delight, so beautiful inside and out, so hard to resist when she begged me to kiss her. I fled from her in confusion, ashamed of myself for not being stronger. However I did manage to extract from her a promise that she would take care of Melly. It comforted me to know that Scarlett would be watching over my dear Melly. I knew that she would be strong for both of them.
The war dragged on, day by weary day. Melly wrote that I was to become a father., and I grieved that I could not be there with her. Much later, I heard the news that she had given birth to a son. Meanwhile, I was taken prisoner, and incarcerated at Rock Island, Illinois. At Rock Island I was ill. We were all ill at Rock Island, where provisions were scanty and diseases such as small pox, pneumonia and typhoid raged unchecked. We cared for each other as best we could. Many didn't survive. Sometimes I think it would have been better if I had died there too. But it was not to be. When the war finally ended we were released to make our own way home. 800 miles on foot! We were barely fit to walk through the gate of the internment camp.
It was a long, slow journey home. Were it not for the kindness of many strangers who took me in and fed me along the way, I would never have made it.
As I had feared, the world I returned to was completely altered. The conquerors had taken everything. The land was stripped bare, the beautiful homesteads destroyed. And there were scarcely any men left. I was one of the few survivors from our troop. So many of my childhood friends never came home. It was desolate indeed.
The women had changed too. Reduced to poverty, forced to fend for themselves, they had lost their gaiety and beauty. Melly was so thin I was afraid I might break her if I held her too tightly. Scarlett was thin too, and she had a hardness about her which had not been present before. How I longed to be able to provide for them, but I had nothing. In fact, much to my shame, we were reduced to living on Scarlett's charity. All of us were living like squatters on the land, eking what existence we could from it. But it was not much.
I was in the orchard splitting rails one cold winter's day when she came and found me. There was some tax money due on Tara and she claimed to want to talk to me about it! Surely she knew that I could not help her. I had been careful not to be alone with Scarlett since my return from the war but on this particular day I was caught. Even as my heart thrilled at her presence, I wished that she would leave me alone. It was so difficult to be near her. She was so beautiful, so strong and brave. How could I help but love her? When she threw herself at me I could scarcely resist her. Only by forcing myself to think of Melanie was I able to cling to my sanity. I knew then that I would have to leave. I would take Melanie and the baby far away from her, and we would make a new life for ourselves.
Scarlett did get the tax money. She went and found a gentleman who had money and married him. His name was Frank Kennedy, and he owned a store in Atlanta. He was actually betrothed to Scarlett's younger sister Suellen, but that did not stop Scarlett. I was shocked and ashamed that she would sell herself for a piece of land, and for us, who lived on it on her charity.
I made enquiries then about getting a job in a bank in New York. I believe I could have made a go of it there, but Scarlett would not let me go. When I announced my intentions she asked me to stay in Atlanta and manage one of her business interests. When I declined she burst into a fit of crying and called me mean and hateful. It did not help that she was expecting at the time. Then Melanie called me unchivalrous for refusing her, and begged me to let us stay in Atlanta. And so I was trapped. We moved to Atlanta and I managed one of Scarlett's mills, though I was never very successful at it. However, Melanie was very happy to be back home amongst family and friends, and we got by.
Frank Kennedy was a good man. He provided well for Scarlett and seemed to genuinely care for her. It disturbed him that she insisted on pursuing her business interests outside the home, even after their daughter Ella was born. She rode out to the mills unchaperoned on many occasions, despite Frank's pleading with her not to. There were some desperate characters who camped out along that road, and many of us were concerned for her safety. But Scarlett, so courageous and strongwilled, did not seem to grasp the danger.
One terrible day the thing we had been dreading happened, and Scarlett was attacked as she was heading home along Decatur Road. Her bodice was ripped and she was badly shaken. Altanta was still under martial law at that time, so there was no hope of justice from the authorities. We had our own form of justice in those lawless days, the Ku Klux Klan. Hastily we met together to plan our retribution on the shantytown settlement on Decatur Road. We were all agreed that unprovoked attacks on our women could not go unpunished. And so we rode out that very night. Virtually all the gentlemen of my acquaintance were part of that raid. But things did not go to plan. Somehow the authorities had received a tip off and we rode into a trap. Frank Kennedy was shot in the head. He died defending his wife's honour. I was shot in the shoulder, and lost a lot of blood. Were it not for Captain Rhett Butler, my life would also have been forfeit.
Yes, though it pains me to say it, I owe my life to that scoundrel. I have been avoiding mentioning him up to this point because I find it difficult to speak of him civilly. He always makes my heckles rise, and I feel uncomfortable when forced to be in the same room as him. Allow me to explain.
Captain Butler was from Charleston, of good Southern blood. His father owned a rice plantation on the Ashley river. As a young man, Captain Butler brought shame on himself and his family by refusing to marry a young lady that he had compromised. He then compounded the situation by killing the young lady's brother in a duel. Subsequently, his father was forced to disown him, and he was cast out to make his own way in the world. He became a reckless adventurer, who cared for nothing but making his fortune, and cared for no one but himself. When the war came, he set himself up in business as a blockade runner, and I believe he made quite a fortune out of the demise of the South. While I was away in the army, he befriended my wife, and Scarlett. I believe they were quite taken in by his charm. For he could certainly turn on the charm when it suited him. Even Aunt Pitty thought he was quite a gentleman. I shudder to think of that man paying calls on my family while I fought far away. He was not received by most decent folks. After the war he kept company with unprincipled carpetbaggers and scallywags. And he made no secret of the fact that he was a frequent visitor to Belle Watling's sporting house.
I believe he continued to pay calls on Scarlett even when she was married to Frank Kennedy. It was plain to me from the way he behaved around her that he cared for her, but I thought little of it at the time. Most men loved Scarlett.
However scarcely a year after Frank's death, Scarlett scandalised us all by actually marrying Captain Butler. Why she should have agreed to marry so unsuitable a man I still cannot fathom. Frank had left her comfortably off, she did not need to marry again so hastily. And I knew she did not love him.
Their marriage was a disaster from the start. He coarsened her. How I hated to see her sweetness being replaced by his own hardness. Because of him, none of her old friends would receive her. Except for our household of course. Melly remained devoted to her and would not hear a word against her. And I loved her still.
One sunny April day I was in my office at the mill when Scarlett unexpectedly dropped in. My dear Melly had asked her to come and delay me so that they could finish the preparations for my surprise birthday party before I arrived home. She looked adorable, bright and fresh as a ray of sunshine, and she was clearly happy to see me. She was on her best behaviour that day and it was heavenly just to hold her hand and chat together like the old friends that we were. We reminisced about the happy days of our carefree youth before the war came and snatched it all away. But then she suddenly became upset, thinking of all that we had lost, and how nothing had turned out as we expected. I noticed with surprise that there were tears running down her cheeks. I had never seen Scarlett cry before, not real tears, and it moved me unbearably. I did the only thing I could do, and gently took her in my arms, pressing her head against my shoulder. And that is how we were discovered by India, Archie and Mrs Elsing.
They were determined to think the worst, and nothing I could say would dissuade them. I concede it did appear somewhat improper, to be found with another man's wife in my arms. To hear them talk though, you would have thought they had caught us in adultery. I wondered briefly what Melly would think. But I knew she loved us both too much to think ill of us. She knew of course that we were old friends, and she would understand. Dear Melly, I explained to her how Scarlett had been upset, reminiscing about old times, and that I had been comforting her. She did understand. She made a point of having Scarlett receive with us at the party, and she was careful to keep her close for the entire evening, so that no one could speak ill of her. Captain Butler, however, appeared to have believed the gossip, for he looked like a tight coiled spring. I feared that he would give poor Scarlett a good dressing down when they got home.
Things were very strained between us after that. Melly insisted on inviting Scarlett over frequently, to show that the rumours were unfounded. It was torture to be in the same room as her and not be able to so much as look at her, lest it be misconstrued. She looked pale and unhappy, and I longed to be able to comfort her. My sister India refused to speak to us, which grieved me very much. Many of the other ladies followed her lead. And so I was the cause of much division and unhappiness.
When Scarlett had her accident a few months later, I was afraid she would die. She tumbled down a whole flight of stairs and was gravely ill for some time. Melly nursed her and she told me that Captain Butler was quite distraught. I confess I envied him his right to be with her. I, of course, had to stay well away and continue as if nothing was amiss.
Then she went away to Tara to convalesce. About the time she returned I unexpectedly received in the post a large sum of money from a fellow soldier I had nursed at Rock Island. He did not give his name and I confess I have no idea who it was. As I said before, we all helped each other as best we could at Rock Island. I wondered what to do with the money, but Melly persuaded me to make an offer for Scarlett's mills. I really did not think she would sell, and I think I hoped she wouldn't too, because the mill was the only place where we had an excuse to be together. But she did sell the mills to me. I think Captain Butler made her do it. Subsequently I saw very little of her, except in the company of others where I was obliged to ignore her as much as possible.
Meanwhile Captain Butler appeared to be regretting his former reckless conduct. He repudiated his Republican friends and became a generous supporter of the Democrat Party. He took a job at the bank and went out of his way to court favour with those he had previously offended. He doted on his daughter Bonnie and loved to show her off. He even brought her to Democrat Party meetings. It was at one of these meetings that Captain Butler and I unexpectedly discovered that we had something in common – a shared desire to end the violence of the Klu Klux Klan. Clearly, it was no longer necessary, with the Democrats about to come to power, and it caused unwanted antagonism with the Republicans. And so it was with a great feeling of relief that we persuaded the others to disband the Klan.
It seemed at that time that things were starting to come right, that we were emerging from the long dark tunnel of reconstruction, that life, though not as envisaged, may actually turn out to be bearable after all. For a brief time, I had hope. On a personal level, Melly and I had our own private hope. Melly was with child. She glowed with happiness.
But happiness is a fragile thing, and the times that followed have been dark indeed, both for our family and for the Butlers.
Tragedy came first to the Butler household, when their little daughter Bonnie was thrown from her pony and died instantly. Captain Butler and Scarlett were both understandably distraught. Captain Butler took to drinking very heavily after that, and I am afraid his manners regressed as a result. He became dishevelled and insolent. He did not seem to care. I grieved for Scarlett, to be married to such a man must be extremely trying for her. And to lose a child too. It is no wonder she has become so somber.
And now tragedy has come to me too. My dear Melly has suffered a miscarriage and died. My grief is still so raw, I can hardly speak of it. Melly was everything to me, the only dream I ever had that lived and breathed and did not die in the face of reality. It was she who gave me the strength to go on living in this awful nightmare of a world. I am lost without her. Scarlett is no comfort, she is so strong, she does not understand my pain. And she has no patience with me. Oh Melly, my dear, how shall I go on without you?