Gods and Generals - Jeff Shaara [251]
Lee rode out, toward the edge of the camps, looked across the church steeples and small buildings of the quiet town. He stared out to the east, to the deep and quiet darkness, thought, Any time now, there will be horses, the high yell, and he will ride in, jump down in front of me like a small excited boy, bend over and sweep the ground with that hat. But there was still the quiet, the dark, and somewhere, deep inside, he felt a dark hole, small but growing, the enthusiasm for this army’s great mission, the final crushing blow now slowly slipping away. He reached down, patted Traveller on the neck, then pulled on the reins, turned the horse back toward the camp. It will be tomorrow, he thought. He will certainly be here tomorrow, and then . . . we will know: where the enemy is, what is in front of us.
Miles beyond the trees, past low hills and thick green woods, another army was in its camp, and their cavalry was already out in front, feeling out, seeking, and tomorrow they would ride forward again, probing the roads in front of them. They would crest a long rise and pause at a small cemetery, high above the peaceful farms and quiet streets of a town called Gettysburg.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
INSPIRATION FOR a work such as this is a deeply individual experience, yet my own adventure in bringing this story from some unknown and unexplainable place to the printed page suggests that there is much more to be said.
I am deeply indebted to Ronald Maxwell, who was the first to suggest that I could, and should, continue the story that my father began. Ron held the torch high for The Killer Angels for fifteen years, until his own dream of bringing that story to film was realized. His screenplay and his directing talents gave the world the film Gettysburg, and so he too is continuing my father’s legacy.
For assistance with the considerable research for this project, I must thank the following:
Patrick Falci, of the Civil War Round Table of New York, who is a tireless source of information and materials, and whose willingness to open doors for this project is most appreciated.
Lieutenant Colonel Keith Gibson, of the Virginia Military Institute, and his wife, Pat Gibson, who opened up their home and allowed me to explore their considerable insight into these characters.
Ms. Michael Anne Lynn, of the Stonewall Jackson House, in Lexington, Virginia, for her gracious hospitality, and her willingness to impart her own suggestions for research materials.
Dr. Jeffrey Pasley, Department of History, Florida State University, for his enthusiastic assistance in providing valued sources of reference.
Ms. Clare Ferraro, publisher, Ballantine Books, for her extraordinary support, and her belief that this book could stand beside The Killer Angels.
Mr. Doug Grad, editor, Ballantine Books, who has listened with much patience and has lent a skilled hand to guiding a first-time author through this process.
I give most special thanks to my wife, Lynne, who proofread my hasty typing, and always, always gave me unqualified support throughout this often unnerving process.
Finally, there can be no greater acknowledgment than to my father, Michael Shaara. His long career as an accomplished writer, the highs and lows, are strong memories from my earliest years. Ultimately, his greatest achievement, The Killer Angels, opened an enormous door for me, allowed my apprehensions to be set aside, and brought forth the first words of this book. His greatest wish, what drove him through a difficult career all his life, was the desire to leave something behind, a legacy to be remembered. Dad, you succeeded.
AFTERWORD
“. . . And Thou knowest O Lord, that when Thou didst decide