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Edward Porter Alexander, Military memoirs of a Confederate: a critical narrative 999 7 Browse Search
Brigadier-General Ellison Capers, Confederate Military History, a library of Confederate States Military History: Volume 5, South Carolina (ed. Clement Anselm Evans) 382 26 Browse Search
William Swinton, Campaigns of the Army of the Potomac 379 15 Browse Search
Edward Alfred Pollard, The lost cause; a new Southern history of the War of the Confederates ... Drawn from official sources and approved by the most distinguished Confederate leaders. 288 22 Browse Search
Comte de Paris, History of the Civil War in America. Vol. 2. (ed. Henry Coppee , LL.D.) 283 1 Browse Search
Horace Greeley, The American Conflict: A History of the Great Rebellion in the United States of America, 1860-65: its Causes, Incidents, and Results: Intended to exhibit especially its moral and political phases with the drift and progress of American opinion respecting human slavery from 1776 to the close of the War for the Union. Volume II. 243 11 Browse Search
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 37. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones) 233 43 Browse Search
An English Combatant, Lieutenant of Artillery of the Field Staff., Battlefields of the South from Bull Run to Fredericksburgh; with sketches of Confederate commanders, and gossip of the camps. 210 2 Browse Search
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Documents and Narratives, Volume 11. (ed. Frank Moore) 200 12 Browse Search
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Documents and Narratives, Volume 7. (ed. Frank Moore) 186 12 Browse Search
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Browsing named entities in John Esten Cooke, Wearing of the Gray: Being Personal Portraits, Scenes, and Adventures of War.. You can also browse the collection for Longstreet or search for Longstreet in all documents.

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John Esten Cooke, Wearing of the Gray: Being Personal Portraits, Scenes, and Adventures of War., Hardeman Stuart: the young Captain of the signal corps. (search)
ive conflict with its old adversary. Going back in memory to that time, I recall with melancholy interest the little trifling details of this my last meeting and last greeting with Hardeman Stuart. I was riding, about noon, to the front of Longstreet's line in search of General Stuart. Under a tree, immediately in rear of his front line, General Longstreet had just dismounted, and was taking off a brown linen overall, the face of the old war horse composed, good-natured, but full of fight.General Longstreet had just dismounted, and was taking off a brown linen overall, the face of the old war horse composed, good-natured, but full of fight. Learning from him that General Stuart was just on the right of his line, I rode in that direction along the front of the infantry drawn up for battle; the men kneeling on the left knee; the bayonets bristling above; finger on trigger; eyes fixed intently on the crest in front over which the advancing enemy were about to appear. I went on, and in crossing a fallow of considerable extent, passed one of those small wooden houses which dot the region around Manassas. Often as I beheld such s
ive conflict with its old adversary. Going back in memory to that time, I recall with melancholy interest the little trifling details of this my last meeting and last greeting with Hardeman Stuart. I was riding, about noon, to the front of Longstreet's line in search of General Stuart. Under a tree, immediately in rear of his front line, General Longstreet had just dismounted, and was taking off a brown linen overall, the face of the old war horse composed, good-natured, but full of fight.General Longstreet had just dismounted, and was taking off a brown linen overall, the face of the old war horse composed, good-natured, but full of fight. Learning from him that General Stuart was just on the right of his line, I rode in that direction along the front of the infantry drawn up for battle; the men kneeling on the left knee; the bayonets bristling above; finger on trigger; eyes fixed intently on the crest in front over which the advancing enemy were about to appear. I went on, and in crossing a fallow of considerable extent, passed one of those small wooden houses which dot the region around Manassas. Often as I beheld such s
delburg road, about a mile from the town. Meanwhile we had learned the particulars of the two hard fights-A. P. Hill's on the evening of the first of July; and Longstreet's on the second, when he made that desperate flank attack on the enemy's left at Round Top. It is easy to see, now, that this assault was the turning point of tissue hung suspended in the balances, and there is some truth in the rhetorical flourish of a Northern verse writer, to the effect that the century reeled, when Longstreet paused on the brow of the hill. Had he gained possession of the Round Top, General Meade's line would have been taken in flank and reverse; he would doubtlessas demoralized by the result of the bloody actions of these three memorable days. Their nerve was unshaken, their confidence in Lee and themselves unimpaired. Longstreet said truly that he desired nothing better than for General Meade to attack his positionthat his men would have given the Federal troops a reception such as they
fire β€” the Shenandoah flowing near, the burly Blue Ridge echoing to their strainsand the appearance of the Blue light elder calling on his men to pray with him: Strangle the fool that dares to scoff! Attention! 'tis his way Appealing from his native sod In forma pauperis to God, β€˜Lay bare thine arm, stretch forth thy rod! Amen!β€˜--that's Stonewall's way. Here is the rough music of the singer as he proceeds with his strain, and recalls the hard conflict of the second Manassas, when Longstreet was at Thoroughfare, Jackson at Groveton: He's in the saddle now! Fall in! Steady β€” the whole Brigade! Hill's at the ford, cut off! We'll win His way out-ball and blade. What matter if our shoes are worn! What matter if our feet are torn! Quick-step-we're with him before dawn! That's Stonewall Jackson's way. The sun's bright lances rout the mists Of morning, and, by George, There's Longstreet struggling in the lists, Hemmed in an ugly gorge. Pope and his Yankees whipped bef
in good spirits, and plainly had an abiding confidence in their great commander. The brigades, though thinned by their heavy losses at Petersburg, still presented a defiant front; and the long lines of veterans with bristling bayonets, led by Longstreet, Gordon, and Mahone, advanced as proudly as they had done in the hard conflicts of the past. The troops were still in excellent morale, and had never been readier for desperate fighting than at that moment. Men and officers were tired and huns in position with that column so near; no line of battle; no preparations for action! A dreamy, memorial sadness seemed to descend through the April air and change the scene. Silence so deep that the rustle of the leaves could be heard --and Longstreet's veterans, who had steadily advanced to attack, moved back like mourners. There was nothing visible in front but that distant column, stationary behind its white flag. No band played, no cheer was heard; the feelings of the Southern troops w