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688 pages, Paperback
First published May 20, 2014
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Stonewall Thomas Jackson
My audience was a general interest audience, and I thought of them as being very intelligent, but not necessarily expert. I’ve got to sell them – tell them what I am writing about, tell them why and be clear. If you write well, you can make a story of a confederate general just as interesting as Kim Kardashian’s love life.
To them, Jackson’s movement east with his vaunted Army of the Valley meant that he was coming to save Richmond, which meant that he was coming to save the Confederacy. And the soldiers of the beleaguered Army of Northern Virginia believed to the bottom of their ragged, malnourished rebel souls that he was going to do precisely that.
On the way back to headquarters Jackson, riding now with McGuire and Smith, said nothing until they neared their camp, when he suddenly said, “How horrible is war.”
“Horrible, yes,” McGuire replied. “But we have been invaded. What can we do?”
“Kill them, sir,” Jackson said. “Kill every man.”
Men were fixing dinner and taking naps or relaxing, listening to the distant music of a regimental band, or perhaps discussing the Confederate retreat, when suddenly all nature seemed to rise up in revolt around them. Through their camps rushed frantic rabbits, deer, quail, and wild turkeys, then there was an odd silence, and then Jackson’s massive, screaming, onrushing wall of grey was upon them.
