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Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Documents and Narratives, Volume 5. (ed. Frank Moore) 4 0 Browse Search
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 9. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones) 4 0 Browse Search
Robert Underwood Johnson, Clarence Clough Buell, Battles and Leaders of the Civil War. Volume 3. 2 0 Browse Search
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 32. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones) 2 0 Browse Search
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 33. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones) 2 0 Browse Search
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Browsing named entities in Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Documents and Narratives, Volume 5. (ed. Frank Moore). You can also browse the collection for Flodden (United Kingdom) or search for Flodden (United Kingdom) in all documents.

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Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Documents and Narratives, Volume 5. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 97 (search)
and Thompson; and Sergeant Western, of the Sixteenth. There were two color-guards, whose names I have forgotten, who deserve to wear medals of gold for their heroism. Doubtless others were as brave, but I notice these. The day was lost; not a shadow of hope remained. As the setting sun shone in golden bars through the dust, into the minds of some, who, faint and wounded, were looking on it for the last time — perhaps to some yet uninjured — came a thought of that prophecy fulfilled at Flodden, and their lips murmured the lines: In the last battle, borne down by the flying, Where mingle war's rattle with groans of the dying. Major Orr told me we were surrounded — the enemy in our rear — we were overwhelmed — surrounded — lost! Still from behind came their shots. A shell passed over my head, killing a man just before me. His horse leaped high in air, and the blood-spouting corpse fell to be trampled with cannon-wheels and ruthless horses' hoofs. Soon we came upon t
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Documents and Narratives, Volume 5. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 113 (search)
and Thompson; and Sergeant Western, of the Sixteenth. There were two color-guards, whose names I have forgotten, who deserve to wear medals of gold for their heroism. Doubtless others were as brave, but I notice these. The day was lost; not a shadow of hope remained. As the setting sun shone in golden bars through the dust, into the minds of some, who, faint and wounded, were looking on it for the last time — perhaps to some yet uninjured — came a thought of that prophecy fulfilled at Flodden, and their lips murmured the lines: In the last battle, borne down by the flying, Where mingle war's rattle with groans of the dying. Major Orr told me we were surrounded — the enemy in our rear — we were overwhelmed — surrounded — lost! Still from behind came their shots. A shell passed over my head, killing a man just before me. His horse leaped high in air, and the blood-spouting corpse fell to be trampled with cannon-wheels and ruthless horses' hoofs. Soon we came upon t