Browsing named entities in Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 11. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones). You can also browse the collection for Blue Ridge (Virginia, United States) or search for Blue Ridge (Virginia, United States) 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)
that he made this song at Oakland, Alleghany Co. Md., to the tune of the guns of Antietam, which he could hear as he wrote. Dr. Palmer is a native of Baltimore, and a writer of no mean repute, and his letter seems to settle the authorship. He gives the following as the original and correct version of the song.] Come, stack arms, men; pile on the rails; Stir up the camp fire bright! No growling if the canteen fails; We'll make a roaring night. Here Shenandoah brawls along, There burly Blue Ridge echoes strong- To swell the brigade's rousing song Of Stonewall Jackson's way. We see him now; that queer slouched hat Cocked o'er his eye askew; The shrewd, dry smile, the speech so pat, So calm, so blunt, so true! The Blue-light Elder knows them well; Says he: “That's Banks: he's fond of shell. Lord save his soul! we'll give him” —Well! That's Stonewall Jackson's way. Silence! Ground arms! Kneel all! Caps off! Ole massa's goina to pray. Strangle the fool! that dares to scoff; Atte<
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 11. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), Stonewall Jackson's way. (search)
that he made this song at Oakland, Alleghany Co. Md., to the tune of the guns of Antietam, which he could hear as he wrote. Dr. Palmer is a native of Baltimore, and a writer of no mean repute, and his letter seems to settle the authorship. He gives the following as the original and correct version of the song.] Come, stack arms, men; pile on the rails; Stir up the camp fire bright! No growling if the canteen fails; We'll make a roaring night. Here Shenandoah brawls along, There burly Blue Ridge echoes strong- To swell the brigade's rousing song Of Stonewall Jackson's way. We see him now; that queer slouched hat Cocked o'er his eye askew; The shrewd, dry smile, the speech so pat, So calm, so blunt, so true! The Blue-light Elder knows them well; Says he: “That's Banks: he's fond of shell. Lord save his soul! we'll give him” —Well! That's Stonewall Jackson's way. Silence! Ground arms! Kneel all! Caps off! Ole massa's goina to pray. Strangle the fool! that dares to scoff; Atte<