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Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 18. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones) 26 4 Browse Search
Robert Stiles, Four years under Marse Robert 16 0 Browse Search
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 25. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones) 16 2 Browse Search
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 33. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones) 12 2 Browse Search
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 27. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones) 8 2 Browse Search
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 20. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones) 7 5 Browse Search
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 17. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones) 4 2 Browse Search
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 1. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones) 3 3 Browse Search
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 21. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones) 3 3 Browse Search
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 16. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones) 3 1 Browse Search
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Browsing named entities in Robert Stiles, Four years under Marse Robert. You can also browse the collection for Robert Stiles or search for Robert Stiles in all documents.

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Robert Stiles, Four years under Marse Robert, Chapter 7: the Peninsula Campaign. (search)
at the horses were harnessed and ready in case it should be necessary to withdraw our pieces, and I met a line or mass of troops advancing to our support. Hearing some one call Stiles! I asked, Who said Stiles and who are you speaking to? A voice answered, I called Stiles, and another, close beside me, said, He's speaking to me. Stiles is my name. I'm Capt. Edward Stiles, of Savannah, Georgia. I grasped his hand, unable to see him, and having only time to say, Then I'm your cousin, Robert Stiles, of Richmond, Virginia. Look you up to-morrow. Until that moment I did not know I had a relative in the Virginia army, knowing that some and supposing that all of my cousins were in the armies of the coast defense. It was, of course, well understood by all of us that the Federal commander, having complete control of the navigable rivers, by virtue of his overwhelming naval power, could at any time turn either of our flanks or land a heavy force between us and Richmond, and that the
Robert Stiles, Four years under Marse Robert, Chapter 12: between Fredericksburg and Chancellorsville (search)
and go and find out for yourself --which I proceeded at once to do; but had not gotten beyond the confines of camp before I heard the captain calling again, the utterance of my name this time alternating with shouts and peals of laughter. On riding up I found him reading, for the second time, an autograph note from General Jackson, addressed to Captain Mc-Carthy, and to the following effect: that if we had not already received orders to move we would receive them in a few moments; that Robert Stiles must not report to him until further orders; that he didn't want any untried man about him when about to move. The relations of our captain to the better soldiers in the battery were peculiar and enjoyable. On duty he was our commanding officer, off duty our intimate friend. I used to call him the intelligent young Irishman, and to tell the following story in explanation: Just before the Howitzers left Richmond, in the spring of 1861, General Magruder called upon Major Randolph to
Robert Stiles, Four years under Marse Robert, Chapter 14: from the Rappahannock to the Potomac (search)
assed the general accompanied by only a single courier. My horse had the better action and movement, and I merely saluted as I rode rapidly by. I had gotten perhaps a hundred yards or more ahead, when the general called after me: Hold on, Stiles; and as he drew near, you're a little offish this morning. No, General, I think not. Well, what the devil's the matter? Nothing in the world, sir, except that I didn't suppose you'd care for the company of a man of whom the best you could say was that you felt sure he wasn't where he ought to be. Old Jube cocked his head and cut his eyes around at me with an expression of the intensest enjoyment, and in that inimitable voice drawled out: Stiles, you are an infernal fool. Why, man, I meant what I said of you as a compliment. The main use I had for a pioneer corps was to bury dead Yankees and horses, and you never seemed to fancy that kind of business. You preferred to take a hand at the guns and prepare 'em to be b
Robert Stiles, Four years under Marse Robert, Chapter 17: between Gettysburg and the Wilderness (search)
the performance of a stiff old Georgia colonel, whose regiment was facing the works and who was actually side-stepping it to the right, to clear the right flank of another regiment that had just entered the works, and this while the enemy was advancing up the slope in our front, and there was not a man in the lines to our right. The General was storming at the colonel, and I, sitting on my horse near-by, could not repress a titter. Suddenly Old Dick turned to me and exclaimed: Mr. Stiles, for the Lord's sake, take that regiment and put it into the works! Somewhat startled, I asked, Do you really mean that, General? Of course I do! Putting spurs to my horse, I trotted down the line of the regiment, calling out as I reached its right flank, Right face, forward, run-march! In a moment or so I had the men in the works, and returning, reached the General just as the old colonel got there and tendered his sword. General Ewell declined to receive the sword, ordered hi
Robert Stiles, Four years under Marse Robert, Chapter 19: Spottsylvania (search)
collection whatever of such occurrence or utterance as he mentions, barring the nasty performances of those twenty-pounder Parrott shells. I recollect a good many of these quite similar to what Willy describes. But here is what he says: Robert Stiles, the adjutant of the battalion, who had been until lately a member of our battery and was very devoted to it and his comrades in it, had come to the line to see how we were getting on, and gave us news of other parts of the line. He, Beau Bae to one of us. A few moments after, another struck the ground right by us and ricochetted. After it passed us, as was frequently the case, we caught sight of it and followed its upward flight until it seemed to be going straight to the sky. Stiles said, There it goes, as though flung by the hand of a giant. Beau Barnes, who was not poetical, exclaimed, Giant be darned; there ain't any giant can fling 'em like that! He was right! If the foregoing was not written with malicious intent
Robert Stiles, Four years under Marse Robert, Chapter 25: Potpourri (search)
ll, and my brotherin-law, Professor Newton, of Yale University, I related a story which was told me by Dr. Hunter McGuire and other eye-witnesses, of Jackson's agonized suffering, yet refusal to interfere with a death sentence imposed by a court-martial, under circumstances such as I have described. Lady Tyndall shuddered and averted her face; but her husband, perceiving that she did so, said with emphasis: My dear, awful as it was, Jackson was right; then, turning to me, he added, Mr. Stiles, God never made a greater or a righter human soul than Stonewall Jackson. No, sir, I do not believe it within the power-even of the Lord God Almighty — to make one! In this general connection I cannot but refer with pride to the unshaken condition and magnificent record of my old battery, even on that fearful retreat from Richmond, and up to and at the very end. The evening before Sailor's Creek we passed them on the road near Amelia Court House, and I was delighted to find their condi