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"

These

summer

nights

I

lie

awake

,

long

after

the

camp

is

sleeping

,

and

I

look

up

at

the

stars

and

,

over

and

over

,

I

wonder

,

'

Why

are

you

here

,

Ashley

Wilkes

?

What

are

you

fighting

for

?

'

"

Not

for

honor

and

glory

,

certainly

.

War

is

a

dirty

business

and

I

do

not

like

dirt

.

I

am

not

a

soldier

and

I

have

no

desire

to

seek

the

bubble

reputation

even

in

the

cannon

's

mouth

.

Yet

,

here

I

am

at

the

wars

--

whom

God

never

intended

to

be

other

than

a

studious

country

gentleman

.

For

,

Melanie

,

bugles

do

not

stir

my

blood

nor

drums

entice

my

feet

and

I

see

too

clearly

that

we

have

been

betrayed

,

betrayed

by

our

arrogant

Southern

selves

,

believing

that

one

of

us

could

whip

a

dozen

Yankees

,

believing

that

King

Cotton

could

rule

the

world

.

Betrayed

,

too

,

by

words

and

catch

phrases

,

prejudices

and

hatreds

coming

from

the

mouths

of

those

highly

placed

,

those

men

whom

we

respected

and

revered

--

'

King

Cotton

,

Slavery

,

States

'

Rights

,

Damn

Yankees

.

'

Отключить рекламу

"

And

so

when

I

lie

on

my

blanket

and

look

up

at

the

stars

and

say

'

What

are

you

fighting

for

?

'

I

think

of

States

'

Rights

and

cotton

and

the

darkies

and

the

Yankees

whom

we

have

been

bred

to

hate

,

and

I

know

that

none

of

these

is

the

reason

why

I

am

fighting

.

Instead

,

I

see

Twelve

Oaks

and

remember

how

the

moonlight

slants

across

the

white

columns

,

and

the

unearthly

way

the

magnolias

look

,

opening

under

the

moon

,

and

how

the

climbing

roses

make

the

side

porch

shady

even

at

the

hottest

noon

.

And

I

see

Mother

,

sewing

there

,

as

she

did

when

I

was

a

little

boy

.

And

I

hear

the

darkies

coming

home

across

the

fields

at

dusk

,

tired

and

singing

and

ready

for

supper

,

and

the

sound

of

the

windlass

as

the

bucket

goes

down

into

the

cool

well

.

And

there

's

the

long

view

down

the

road

to

the

river

,

across

the

cotton

fields

,

and

the

mist

rising

from

the

bottom

lands

in

the

twilight

.

And

that

is

why

I

'm

here

who

have

no

love

of

death

or

misery

or

glory

and

no

hatred

for

anyone

.

Perhaps

that

is

what

is

called

patriotism

,

love

of

home

and

country

.

But

Melanie

,

it

goes

deeper

than

that

.

For

,

Melanie

,

these

things

I

have

named

are

but

the

symbols

of

the

thing

for

which

I

risk

my

life

,

symbols

of

the

kind

of

life

I

love

.

For

I

am

fighting

for

the

old

days

,

the

old

ways

I

love

so

much

but

which

,

I

fear

,

are

now

gone

forever

,

no

matter

how

the

die

may

fall

.

For

,

win

or

lose

,

we

lose

just

the

same

.

"

If

we

win

this

war

and

have

the

Cotton

Kingdom

of

our

dreams

,

we

still

have

lost

,

for

we

will

become

a

different

people

and

the

old

quiet

ways

will

go

.

The

world

will

be

at

our

doors

clamoring

for

cotton

and

we

can

command

our

own

price

.

Then

,

I

fear

,

we

will

become

like

the

Yankees

,

at

whose

money-making

activities

,

acquisitiveness

and

commercialism

we

now

sneer

.

And

if

we

lose

,

Melanie

,

if

we

lose

!

"

I

am

not

afraid

of

danger

or

capture

or

wounds

or

even

death

,

if

death

must

come

,

but

I

do

fear

that

once

this

war

is

over

,

we

will

never

get

back

to

the

old

times

.

And

I

belong

in

those

old

times

.

I

do

not

belong

in

this

mad

present

of

killing

and

I

fear

I

will

not

fit

into

any

future

,

try

though

I

may

.

Nor

will

you

,

my

dear

,

for

you

and

I

are

of

the

same

blood

.

I

do

not

know

what

the

future

will

bring

,

but

it

can

not

be

as

beautiful

or

as

satisfying

as

the

past

.

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"

I

lie

and

look

at

the

boys

sleeping

near

me

and

I

wonder

if

the

twins

or

Alex

or

Cade

think

these

same

thoughts

.

I

wonder

if

they

know

they

are

fighting

for

a

Cause

that

was

lost

the

minute

the

first

shot

was

fired

,

for

our

Cause

is

really

our

own

way

of

living

and

that

is

gone

already

.

But

I

do

not

think

they

think

these

things

and

they

are

lucky

.

"

I

had

not

thought

of

this

for

us

when

I

asked

you

to

marry

me

.

I

had

thought

of

life

going

on

at

Twelve

Oaks

as

it

had

always

done

,

peacefully

,

easily

,

unchanging

.

We

are

alike

,

Melanie

,

loving

the

same

quiet

things

,

and

I

saw

before

us

a

long

stretch

of

uneventful

years

in

which

to

read

,

hear

music

and

dream

.

But

not

this

!

Never

this

!

That

this

could

happen

to

us

all

,

this

wrecking

of

old

ways

,

this

bloody

slaughter

and

hate

!

Melanie

,

nothing

is

worth

it

--

States

'

Rights

,

nor

slaves

,

nor

cotton

.

Nothing

is

worth

what

is

happening

to

us

now

and

what

may

happen

,

for

if

the

Yankees

whip

us

the

future

will

be

one

of

incredible

horror

.

And

,

my

dear

,

they

may

yet

whip

us

.

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