Gods and Generals

by Jeff Shaara

One of the many great tragedies of the Civil War is that it is a bridge through time. The old clumsy ways of fighting, nearly unchanged for centuries, marching troops in long straight lines, advancing slowly into the massed fire of the enemy, will now collide with the new efficient ways of killing, better rifles, much better cannon; and so never before—and in American history, never since—does a war produce so much horrifying destruction.

He violates the law by establishing a Sunday school for slave children in Lexington, and justifies it by claiming it is the right of all of God’s creatures to hear the Word.

He had difficulty accepting that authority, preferring to pursue instead a more personal service to God. In the peacetime army his duty was stripped down to mundane and pointless tasks, and so his religion had given him a new purpose, another place where his duty was clear. If he could not serve the army, he would serve God, and his enemies would be any temptations, any distractions, from that course.

“Major, this country was founded by good Christian men, on the principles of equality, justice, and all of it under God. That has never been done before, never, in the history of the world! This country is God’s model, God’s message to the rest of the world. ‘Look here! We are God’s chosen land, this is how God intends man to be governed.’ ”

Lee walked slowly through the hurried clatter of the lobby, saw groups of men, some huddled in intense conversation, others waving big cigars, broad-chested men with loud voices, proclaiming their opinions with the mindless flourish of those who share no responsibility for the consequences of their grand ideas.

Lee spoke, in a low voice unheard by people dashing past. “What has changed? Why has it not worked?” He began to think of history, the great men: Madison, Franklin, Adams. They did not design a government to control the people.

And the people out here want me to believe it’s simply a need for independence, keep the government from telling us what to do. And so, pointing fingers become pointing guns, because nobody listens to fingers.”

My colleagues . . . they stopped asking about anything a long time ago . . . they know all they need to know, and their lives are as complete as they will ever be, and that works for them. I am not ready to grow old, to accept that what I am today is what I will always be.”

Lee shook his head, turned toward the sounds, searched again through his glasses for the lone cannon, the heroic gunner. “It is well this is so terrible,” he said. “We should grow too fond of it.”

And when those men begin to understand that it is not anything in them, no great weakness or inferiority, but that it is the leaders, the generals and politicians who tell them what to do, that the fault is there, after a while they will stop listening. Then the beast, the collective anger, battered and bloodied, will strike out, will respond to the unending sights of horror, the deaths of friends and brothers, and it will not be fair or reasonable or just, since there is no intelligence in the beast. They will strike out at whatever presents itself, and here it was the harmless and innocent lives of the people of Fredericksburg.

He wondered how strong their faith could be, after . . . He glanced up, looked toward God, something he rarely did, said to himself, All right, help them. Give them some strength to start over, rebuild what they have lost. If this is Your will, then explain that to them. I surely cannot.