CHAPTER FIVE

It was late spring in 1862 when Scarlett arrived in the great city of Atlanta. It was a cold, rainy night, and Scarlett stepped off the train wanting to get into a warm bed as soon as possible. She stood there, holding the baby, and hoping that someone would recognize her. After a few moments, an old black man and a young slave girl approached her.

"Are you Miss Scarlett? My, you have grown! And look, there's Charlie Hamilton's little son! I'm Uncle Peter, Miss Pittypat's housekeeper. This girl here is Prissy. She'll help you with the baby while you're here."

Prissy was eleven years old, which was much too young to know anything about babies. If only Mammy were here! But Mammy would never leave Ellen.

They walked through the rain and got into the carriage. As they drove to Aunt Pittypat's house, Uncle Peter told Scarlett about the new hospitals and military buildings in the city. It seemed that every day, more and more wounded soldiers came to the hospitals. There were so many men that, often, the hospitals did not have enough doctors and medicine to treat them. Often, men died in horrible ways.

They passed many people in the streets that recognized Aunt Pittypat's carriage. The ladies waved to Scarlett, and many promised to visit her. Finally, they arrived at the Hamilton's beautiful home on Peachtree Street. Aunt Pittypat and Melanie welcomed Scarlett and Wade happily.

"Oh, Scarlett, you don't know how wonderful you are, bringing dear Charlie's son to see us," said Melanie sadly as she hugged Scarlett. "Poor Charlie!" cried Aunt Pittypat and immediately burst into tears. Scarlett sighed. She was sick of talking about Charles! Would she have to mourn in Atlanta too?

After Aunt Pittypat had been given a glass of wine, Melanie said to Scarlett, "Darling, we're so happy you're here, and I hope you'll stay with us for a while. You can help us take care of all the soldiers in the hospital. I know that it helps me not to worry about Ashley," she said, "and it might help you to feel better about Charlie's death."

At that time in Atlanta, all women were caring for soldiers at different hospitals. Scarlett didn't like the hospitals and hated nursing the men, but at least it got her out of the house. However, Melanie loved nursing and was known as an "angel" to all the sick and wounded men. She was kind and gentle and listened to all the soldiers' stories about their families, wives, and home towns.

Everyone was always very kind to Scarlett, because they believed she was in mourning. But Scarlett did not want their kindness. She wanted to start living again! She wanted to be the old Scarlett O'Hara, the prettiest girl in north Georgia, who went to dances and parties and flirted with boys. But the social traditions did not allow Scarlett to have fun. There was nothing to do in Atlanta but go to the hospital with Melanie, or stay at home with Aunt Pittypat.

In spite of these problems, Scarlett truly liked Atlanta. It was fun to live in such a big, busy city after her life in the country. So her visit to Atlanta turned from weeks into months.

One afternoon in the middle of summer, Scarlett was sitting by the window. She was angrier than ever. That evening, everyone was going to a large party that would raise money for the hospital and send money to the fighting soldiers. There would be music and dancing at the party! Scarlett hadn't been to a party since the day of the Wilkes barbecue. And this evening, everyone in Atlanta was going—except her, Melanie, and Aunt Pittypat! They were, of course, in mourning for Charles. So Scarlett sat by the window wanting to scream. Oh, it wasn't fair! It wasn't fair to be seventeen years old and have a dead husband and a silly little baby screaming in the next room!

Aunt Pittypat came into the living room. "Oh, Scarlett, don't wave at the people outside, dear—they'll think you're not sad enough about poor dear Charles!"

Scarlett could not stand any more. She wanted to scream "I hate Charles!" She was so frustrated that she began to cry. Of course, Aunt Pittypat misunderstood her tears. "Oh, Scarlett, I've made you remember Charlie—Melanie, come here!"

Melanie ran into the room. "My poor darling, of course you're upset," she said. She hugged Scarlett, who was now too angry and upset to think straight. "Oh, I hate it!" she cried. "I'm seventeen years old and I'm a widow! I'll be miserable for the rest of my life and I'll never dance again!" she sobbed.

Just at that moment, Uncle Peter came into the room. "Miss Pittypat, I was just talking to Mrs Merriwether. She knows that we're in mourning, but she thinks you all should go to the party this evening. You should show your support for our soldiers and the hospital."

Immediately Scarlett stopped crying. She didn't care about supporting the soldiers, but she wanted to go to that party more than anything! "Uncle Peter, you're absolutely right. I think we should go!"

Aunt Pittypat looked shocked. "Scarlett! We couldn't do that, what would people say?"

Surprisingly, Melanie agreed with Scarlett. "Aunt Pittypat, Scarlett's right. We must go to that party. Scarlett and I can sell drinks to people. We've got to show that we support our boys in the war. Think of Ashley!" she said firmly.

Aunt Pittypat looked worried. "Well, Melanie, I suppose you're right," she said.

Scarlett was happy. Finally, she would go to a party! At least she could watch the other young girls dancing, even if she could not dance herself.

(end of section)