Browsing named entities in Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 11. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones). You can also browse the collection for October 5th, 1864 AD or search for October 5th, 1864 AD in all documents.

Your search returned 2 results in 2 document sections:

Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 11. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), General Beauregard's report of the battle of Drury's Bluff. (search)
last. The body may surrender, The ‘mortal coil’ may fail, But his dauntless, untamed spirit Has never learned to quail; His voice is raised; he utters One piercing, eager cry, ‘Oh! Colonel, save the squadron!’ Then lays him down to die. Time-honored Old Dominion! What heroes hast thou borne! Thy mother's eye is weeping, Thy lovely bosom torn; But still thy grand ‘Sic Semper’ Defiantly shall wave; Thy sons will bear it proudly To freedom or—the grave. J. C. H. Charlottesville, October 5th, 1864. Sketch of Third battery of Maryland Artillery. By Captain William L. Ritter. Paper no. 5. On the 7th of May the battery was ordered to the front on the line in Crow's Valley, and when, on the 8th, the enemy moved up as if to attack the Confederate works, they were received with so vigorous a fire that they rapidly withdrew. But two men of the Third Maryland were wounded: Privates N. M. Beverly and J. G. Martin. Again, on the 9th the enemy charged our works, but w
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 11. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), The death of Willie Abell. (search)
are losing.—Chronicle of the 2d. The ball has pierced his vitals, But still he grasps the rein; The squadron is in danger, And he takes no note of pain; He bore up in the saddle, Warm blood his body laved; But he spurs his faithful charger, The squadron must be saved. He gallops through the carnage, No Wavering—no pause; And he pours his very life-blood In Freedom's holy cause. His life is swiftly ebbing, His strength is waning fast; But courage and his message Sustain him to the last. The body may surrender, The ‘mortal coil’ may fail, But his dauntless, untamed spirit Has never learned to quail; His voice is raised; he utters One piercing, eager cry, ‘Oh! Colonel, save the squadron!’ Then lays him down to die. Time-honored Old Dominion! What heroes hast thou borne! Thy mother's eye is weeping, Thy lovely bosom torn; But still thy grand ‘Sic Semper’ Defiantly shall wave; Thy sons will bear it proudly To freedom or—the grave. J. C. H. Charlottesville, October