you're welcome. history bookshelf features popular american history writers of the past decade and airs on american history tv every saturday at noon eastern. this week on history bookshelf, jeff shaara talks about rise to rebellion. a historical novel about the founding fathers and the american revolution. this hour-long event took place in getiesberg, pennsylvania.

welcome to american history store's history books 2001 here in getiesberg, pennsylvania. our next speaker is certainly no stranger to getiesberg or to history books. jeff shaara was raised in florida and graduated from florida state university with a degree in criminology. after the death of his father michael, jeff took over management of his father's estate and found an interest in writing. two yoerz later, jeff published "guys and generals" and another best seller was gone for soldiers. as you all know jeff at all and you know not only is he a great writer, he is great marketer. it's no coincidence at all in the 225th anniversary of the declaration of independence that his new book "rise to rebellion" has come out.

yesterday he was featured on national public radio. this morning he was on the "today" show. of course, it's all build up to this moment. being here in getiesberg to speak to us. please welcome jeff shaara. >> don't let anyone tell you it's not all about marketing. it was nice of bobby to say all those things that i've been doing and been involved with this week. this has been a really good week for me. it's overwhelming.

most of you are here because you're civil war people. that's why you come to getiesberg for the most part. i know that this program is -- what they tried to do at graystone is take a little different approach this year and bring in people who speak about other things and branch off into different parts of history. this is a different thing for me because this is the first time i've ever stood before an audience and given a talk about anything other than these characters from the civil war that many of you, some of you certainly, are familiar with that i've written about. all that bad grammar aside. so i came here realizing this would be the first time that i'm not talking about the civil war. i'm not talking about e. lee or

joshua chamberlain or the other wonderful characters. and all of a sudden i got very nervous. i didn't know what your expectations were. i see too many familiar faces. i know many of you heard me speak before and you heard how i really became excited by the characters from the civil war, how my father really opened the door for that whole process to happen. last year when i was here, it was the 35th city on a 35-city tour. i was fried. the tour started the first of may. by july 4, this is where we concluded. at that time, i knew what i was talking about.

this is the first time i have a chance to talk about "rise to rebellion." i don't have the luxury of trying this out on you without these good people taping me for national broadcast. so this is going with no rehearse allege and like an actor going on stage with no rehearsal. i'll try to make this interesting. i'm not doing a very good job so far. what i would like to do is talk a little bit about why the revolution. i get that question a lot. what in the world are you doing leaving the sieve war? my publisher asked that very question. also, i would like to do a very brief reading from this book.

one thing i would like to do is hear some questions. the why leaving the civil war, it wasn't really a case of leaving the civil war. i quit, i've had enough. it really was much more that i love a good story. there are many, many good stories from the civil war. people have asked me, you should see the e-mails i get, people with suggestions of other good stories in the civil war. well, there are many. and likely one of these days i will go back and do another good story of the civil war. i mean will is one that jumps out at me that i think about all the time and that is the william to come to sherman story. and versus nathan bedford forest and joe johnson. i mean there is a lot of stuff there. wonderful, wonderful story. sherman is a fabulous character.

but that's down the road and that's getting ahead of myself. but clearly, the lee grant story is the biggy for most people. i wanted to find a story that really drew me in. i picked up a book by chance, the letters of john and abigail adams. the book of john and abigail. we're fortunate that someone had to save franklin's writings from the dust bin and preserve them for us. george washington is simpler. everybody who had his name on any piece of paper saved it, or

obvious reasons. much like they saved robert e. lee's. as i began to read this book about john and abigail, i was struck by this is a love story. i didn't know that. john adams is the man,hi man w states government. think about, you know, the united states government. we sort of take it for granted. we have a senate in the house of representatives and all that kind of stuff. well somebody had to think of that. somebody had to sit down and write that down on paper how this was going to work.

the person who did that is john adams, you know that. as i got into this story, i began discovering the character of abigail adams. abigail adams is the first american feminist. this woman was 100 years ahead of her time and with no education to support that. in this era, women were not allowed, in many cases, it was illegal for women to get a college education. she was self taught, self read. she readen classics and just anything she could get her hands on that she was allowed to read. and once that was sort of consumed by her, she quickly learned to state her opinion. they was pretty eager to do that and it shows through her writing. this is a marvelous letter we have when, you know, john adams is going on to philadelphia to that continental congress to write that document that says, you know, all men are created equal and it is abigail adams

who says, don't forget the ladies. if you have a revolution now. wait until you see what happens -- no. as i was reading this stuff, realizing you know, we're always looking for new stories to write about. if you know what i do, what i write are character driven stories. they're not event driven stories. i don't have a phd in history. i am no more qualified than many of you to sit down and write a book that someone could use as a high school history textbook. what i'm interested in is people. my job is getting to the minds of characters and take you there. you are with these people on the ground they walk. you're with them in the events in history. that's my job. if i do a good job, you feel as though you know these people. if i do a lousy job, then you're

not there. i have to get there first. so as i've told you many times before, the research material wherever possible from original sources. i read the john and abigail letters. there is no better source than those two characters. consider, too, that john adams is separate from her for a long time. and they write each other constantly. so what you get will is not only their relationship back and forth in the letters, you get a chronicling of what is happening in philadelphia at the continental congress. there were no minutes kept during the continental congress. a lot of the speeches just happened to be written down by someone it issing there who wrote down the high points. but there was no secretary recording secretary writing down much like you would a congressional record today. there was nothing like that. so much of what is written down, what is recorded from what happened at the continental congress comes from the letters of john adam.

as i began this and sat down with the publisher of new york, i said i think there is a story here. and, again, this sort of reluctance to depart from the civil war, the concern in new york as it always is who's going to read this book? maybe -- my argument was -- maybe it has nothing to do with the civil war. maybe it thooz do wihas to do w simply love a good story and characters. i found them. i don't tell what you the whole book is b i'll give you a thumbnail briefly. basically, this story covers -- this is the first of two. this story covers, begins with the boston massacre. the massacre is in quotes. it's debated whether it was a massacre. the 1770s. it runs through the signing of the declaration of independence.

and shortly after that. well, another concern of the publicer was, wait a minute, this is not a book good war. there are no battles here. wrong, wrong. wrong. lechlington and concord, bunker hill, 1775. the american revolution did not begin with the signing of the declaration of independence. there was a lot of stuff going on before that document was ever signed. another thing about the declaration, and we talk about this this morning, shameless name dropper that i am, many katie couric asked me this question -- it is a simplistic idea. a bunch of the guys got together in philadelphia. thomas jefferson wrote the declaration of independence and we have a revolution and we break with england.

well, no. a good third of that country didn't want to break with he can gland. they liked king george. they considered themselves englishmen. the great silent majority, that was thrown about a lot in college, the great silent majority in this country in the 13 colonies could care less about breaking with england. they liked, particularly in the southern states, places like north and south carolina and georgia, you have cotton farmers. you have people clinging to the coastline because inland, it's indian territory. it is not a nice place to be.

it's a dangerous place to be and these people like the british. they like the big ships sitting off shore. all of a sudden we're talking about what, independence? it's a hard sell to the people. as i got into it more and more, i became more and more fascinated with the story and characters just like has happened to me before, i'm very fortunate in this. the story began to write itself. i'm very proud of this book. i'm very happy about this book because -- and i'm asked this question a lot. i'm tired of being asked this question. the question is, you know, do you feel as though you have broken with michael shaara? first of all, i don't feel there is any need to break with anybody. but clearly this is a different path. as my publisher put it last

week, the training wheels are off. i like that. what i would like to do is i would like to read to you just -- actually two short things. those of you who heard me talk know i'm paranoid. last thing in the world is i want to hit the front row to start snoring. what i would like to do is read this is right after, in fact, the same night of the boston massacre in march of 1770 when john adams has gone out and hass ice and snow on the streets of boston and there is blood on the ice. and blood on the snow and he has witnessed -- he doesn't really know what he's witnessed. nobody really understands what's happened. and he returns home to abigail in somewhat of a shock. and this is very brief. and, again, i'mt two pages. this is john adams returning

home after seeing the aftermath of the boston massacre. he sagged through the doorway, removed his hat, held it for a long moment staring down at nothing. he heard sounds, quick footsteps and small voice. his daughter ran to him, grabbed him around the leg. papa. papa. papa. he looked at her, reached one hand down, touched the short curls, hair like fine silk, moves his fingered slowly, gently, could not push her away. there now, abby, come. leave your father be. abigail had come into the room, looked at him with dark concern and said again, here, abby, now. the little girl released her grip, moved to her mother with a pout and adams watched her sink into abigail's skirt one thumb lodged firmly in her mouth. abigail murmured something terrible has happened. i can see it in your face. adams nodded slowly blinked hard. the soldiers have fired on the citizens. at least four are dead, maybe

more. i heard it was a riot but i don't know. abigail moved to a soft chair and sat slowly, the roundness of her stomach obvious. adams moved forward to provide a helping hand. though she said, no, it's all right. i just need to sit. i'm sorry. i should not have gone out. i knew you would worry. he paused. he glance the at his daughter holding fast to his mother's leg and lowered his voice. i saw the blood. it was everywhere. he moved close to her, closed his eyes, i should not have gone. she held out her hand, took his. you had to go. it could have been a fire. you know you would have helped. you would have to know what happened. i still don't know. we will hear the rumors tomorrow. both sides will lay blame. there will be mobs, maybe more violence. he knelt down, rubbed one hand gently on his daughter's back and said, perhaps you should return to brain tree. it is safer. we could be in some danger here. if things get out of hand -- no,

john. there is no danger. we are together. i will not cower away like some weak and helpless person while you face the dragon alone. where's my sword? he knew she was trying to cheer him up. he looked at her again, could not help but stair at the roundness under her dress. a pregnant woman fighting off the great evils of the world is an inspiring image. do you need armor? she laughed, squeezed his hand. you are my armor. she rubbed her stomach again, seemed uncomfortable. he backed away. are you sure you're all right? don't worry, john, there are no problems. he kicked today hard. adams was curious. he? why do you say that? i said he kicked hard. more than once. he's tired of being inside like his father. only your son would be so expressive, so stubborn. he is already strong. the word hit him and rolled in his mind, strong. he saw the sadness in her eyes

betraying her smile. he thought of susanna now, the frail baby gone barely a month. she had been their third child and two months past her first birthday. the shock had been extraordinary. the first great tragedy of their marriage, the death of childrens with a horror common in town that they seemed to be immune. the first two children growing into healthy toddlers. she had never been healthy. adams felt himself pulling way from the baby as though he knew she would not survive. he never could have admitted that to abigail and he kept his sadness hidden away as she nurtured the weak baby, doing everything in a mother's heart to strengthen the infant. when the baby died, abigail had been devastated. and adams had begun to worry for her health as well. he felt helpless, even afraid for her as she cried over the small grave. her hand moving over the growing bulge in her stomach. he saw her own fear for the health of their new baby still unborn. he moved to the front window, looked out the darkness at the

open square, the courthouse across the street. he was used to seeing troops in formation there in front of his house. the constant drilling, the presence that even the most reasonable citizen had begun to dread the annoying show of strength. well, they have truly shown their strength now, he thought. it will be hard for the toreies to excuse this, to claim some conspiracy against the king. it could simply have been one mob facing another and the man in the red uniforms were better armed. there are so many questions. i'll know more tomorrow. i have to know. there is still law here. and no matter who is to blame, whether this disaster was born from evil intent or blind foolishness, if the mobs gain control, then god help us. so that's sort of the beginning. now i'll jump ahead. i promise this is short. if anybody is beginning to nod off, this won't ruin your thunder.

what i loved doing is giving camos. little one chapter experiences from certain characters. and the killer angels, the more memorable ones were the spy that opened the book. i did the same in "guys and generals." we had different characters who might be fairly anonymous or well known, jeb stewart, for example, a.p. hill, just one chapter just to show a little point of view that's a little bit different from the main characters. well, in this story, it's no different. and there is a character that some of you may have heard of before. the name is paul revere. i'll jump ahead a little bit. after the revolution, almost no one had ever heard of paul revere. he was immortalized by the poem, you know, the midnight right ride of paul revere. every schoolchild learns that poem. it was 75 years after the american revolution.

prior to that, some people who were into silver, reflecting of the works of fine silver smith, knew about paul revere. almost no one had any idea that this man had a pivotal role in the american revolution. well, boston is in chaos, in shambles. and thomas gauge, another main character in the story, is sending his troops out to confiscate basically to do no more than march through the countryside and confiscate a store of powder that he learned the colonial rebels are hiding on this one farm. sow decides to send several hundred troops out to confiscate this powder. that's all there is to it. what gauge does not know is that that particular mission for these troops will burn itself into our memories. well, throughout the countryside, one of the side missions of this -- of these troops is to capture, finally, gauge had about enough of the

rebels. samuel adams, a name familiar to you, i hope, for more than beer, and, in fact, the beer connection is real. samuel adams family did own a brewery in boston. but samuel adams, john hack congre hancock, these are well known names. these people are such a thorn in the british. and general gauge, he said let's go out and crab thgrab this pow. we know where they are. let's rest them enough to know. this is one of the single chapters in this book. in fact, the cover of this book, not giving too much away sh the cover of this book is the death of joseph warren. joseph warren is still in boston. he is one of the rebels who is still brave enough to stay there. he is in charge of things in the city of boston. he sends a couple of men out to

work that the british are coming. after dr. warren gives -- they both slipped silently. they practiced cutting the surface with no sound. behind him, revere could see the steep will of the church framed against the starry sky. there would be no mistaking the light of the lantern against the darkness. the signal would come from the base of the steep will. he'll be there. he's a good man. i know he understands the importance. now we turn to the front, steady himself with his hands on the rail. the man kept steadily at his work. revere could see the moon rising to the east. a bright spray of light across the harbor, broken only by the british warships.

he felt excitement now and looked to the west for the mouth of the charles. one shape looming large. the moonlight reflecting off three tall masts. it was a majesty ship called the summer set. revere glanced at the oresman and said, yes weeshgs close to a great deal of trouble. the small boat slipped slowly past the great ship and revere could hear voices now. the crew of the massive ship above him. the night watch, perhaps, enjoying the peaceful evening guarding against nothing. nothing that could keep their army from crossing this bay. no, we cannot stop you but we can make your secret no secret at all n moments the summer set was behind him. he could hear them breathing small grunts. the young man tiring. he wanted to help. the man was very clear, sit tight. no motions to alert the lookouts on the big ship. they reached the par bank nfar .

someone was waiting for him. it's against hard sand. he helped him from the boat. his faith in the dark. a short round man, the voice unfamiliar. welcomes to charlestown mr. revere. reve revere cringed at the volume. he reached in his pocket and handed something to the young man. the round man said something, a thank you and revere wanted to quiet him. he looked back nervously at the great ship come ago live with the glow of moonlight. again, another enthusiastic reading, glad to have you here, sir. sir, please lower your voice. the man turned. mr. revere, you're not in boston now. there's no danger here. there was more laughter now. revere looked up past the sandy bank to see bits of reflection, glimpses of faces. he realized the shoreline was alive with men. suddenly, he saw one clear reflection, sharp, metallic.

yes, men with guns. come now, mr. revere. we have your horse right up this way. revere followed the man up the slope. i must wait for the signal. there can nobody mistake. they crested the hill. the man said signal, from whom? revere looked back across the water. he could seat church steep will framed in the moonlight. there, the church. i cannot leave just yet. i have to know by which route the troops are marching. whatever you say mr. revere. here she is now your mount, brown beauty. he moved to the horse. you could tell she was tall, heavy, well fit for a good hard ride. he patted her neck, still staired at the distant steep will and thought please, don't fail me sir. surely he understands. there was a speck of light at the base of the tall steep will. he staired hard. the voices around him falling silent. one man said quietly, is that what you're waiting for? what does it mean, sir? he held up a hand, said nothing, waited. he saw now a second speck.

a second lantern like two small eyes in the dark staring out toward him in the cold moonli t moonlight. he felt a great burst of energy, climbed the horse. it means, gentlemen, you have best advice your men here to stand away. with all respect of you, sir, this is not a fight you won. you could have several hundred soldiers landing on your shore. two lights. the signal that the british are coming this way by water. the moonlight opened the roads in front of him. a wide bright path. the hor took his command and did not hesitate. together they pushed past farmhouses, each hearing the quick shout to ride and be ready. doors opened, window curtains were pulled back. farmers and villagers coming away from the sharp call with the great force of soldiers was marching their way. as he passed, each house rolled in the light. mus kedz were pulled down and slid out from under beds, retrieved from closets. the men drilled and plann