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Browsing named entities in 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..

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ly in front, however, had much greater difficulty in advancing, for they were exposed to the full fire of batteries. How they escaped annihilation is a mystery. Wilcox, Featherstone, and Pryor did wonders, as usual, but their commands were sorely thinned by grape-shot, and many promising officers lost their lives there. The enelry escort, not less than two hundred prisoners following behind. It must have been a great mortification to them. That was On to Richmond with a vengeance! Wilcox, at Gaines's Mills, said another, was in a terrible rage with his brigade, although as a temporary divisional general he commanded both Featherstone and Pryorrest. Had he moved out of the woods alone his destruction was inevitable-for the artillery of the enemy was numerous and powerful. It is said that the sight of Wilcox, Featherstone, Pryor, Whiting, Archer, Hood, and others advancing afoot, sword in hand, cheering on their commands through the woods and up the hill, was most ins
t base of Marye's Hill, which Cobb had so well defended from behind the stone fence. It appeared that a heavy body of the enemy had quietly ascended up the banks of the Hazel under cover of the evening, and thought to seize that position, thus getting into the rear of Marye's Hill; but they were received so coolly, and with such a destructive fire, that they retreated with the utmost expedition and in the greatest confusion. Thus the slaughter at Fredericksburgh closed. Sumner, Hooker, Wilcox, Meagher, French, and a host of other leaders, had been routed on our centre and left — Franklin, Meade, Jackson, Bayard, and Stoneman, had met with a fearful repulse on the right; for miles their dead and wounded lined the front of our works, and were scattered up and down the valley in great profusion; but even nature seemed shocked at such frightful carnage, and mercifully threw a veil of fog and darkness over the crimsoned valley. Cold and bitter as was that bleak December night-che
er and ramrod are totally behind the age, and should be discouraged and disused. All that is required of a good gun can be realized by breech-loading, and, from experience, I can do more with such a weapon than any other. It occupies less room in working, and saves the men from unnecessary exposure and loss. In England, I know, the invention of Armstrong is patronized; they may have potent reasons for the preference, but our men prefer Whitworth's weapon. This was written long before Whitworth was patronized by the English Government. I agree with you entirely, Robins, said the Major, in regard to the ramrod; I think it should be abolished. Half the men you see walking about town with arms in slings have been hit while loading, for the enemy fire high, and had we breechloading muskets in our battles, few would have been struck at all. There are other important reasons besides this for objecting to the ramrod. In a rifle, accuracy entirely depends upon the cartridge properl
Daniel P. Whiting (search for this): chapter 27
lliamsburgh road, (two miles from Huger,) and Whiting advanced his division near, and down the railline, and our attack seemed to be triangular, Whiting and Huger having attempted nothing right or lk, and General Johnston determined to move up Whiting on the left, in order to draw off some portio the surrounding openings into the woods. Whiting's attack now absorbed their whole attention. g with loss, they paid undivided attention to Whiting, who was advancing through the woods parallelbehaved well at Seven pines, and although General Whiting assailed it furiously, was so well placedall our efforts were of little avail. but had Whiting commenced earlier, there can be no doubt he wI saw old Jeff, (Davis,) Mallory, Longstreet, Whiting, and all of them, a little while ago, lookingsburgh road, the enemy endeavored to dislodge Whiting's advance, near the railroad, from the groundaturday, he was stirring and lively enough on Whiting's left in this fight, and must have marched h[1 more...]
Daniel P. Whiting (search for this): chapter 28
nnot last long, although I believe if the enemy were whipped out of their boots they would still shout victory, victory, as loudly as ever. There is no doubt that poor old Casey was sadly out-generalled and beaten by Johnston, but had not our attack been delayed on the right and left, we should have driven them all into the river. Did you hear that we captured Casey's private papers, public documents, etc.? It is so. A young man in the Twelfth Mississippi seized them and gave them to Whiting. Though the capture was important, and effected at great peril, the youth has never been complimented. Speaking of that regiment, said another, I saw great bravery in one of their cooks. The darkies, as usual, would not remain in camp, but marched out with the rest, and fought behind their masters. When General Rhodes had pushed the enemy through their camps, capturing breastworks as he went, a ball struck him in the arm, and he became faint from loss of blood. As it seemed a critic
Daniel P. Whiting (search for this): chapter 35
ill standing camps many thousands would inevitably fall. Ambrose Hill attempted to move forward in the centre, but his division, thoroughly exhausted by hard marching and constant fighting, was unequal to the task, and was withdrawn in favor of Whiting's division of Texans, Alabamians, and Mississippians. The troops of the two latter States had succored Pryor on the left, and had been actively engaged since the combat opened, but the Texan Brigade was held in reserve, and as this was the firsf the enemy slowly retired through their camps, across the creek and through the woods in the north-eastern corner of the field; the bursting of caissons, and the explosion of ammunition wagons, lighting up the scene on every hand. But while Whiting, Hood, General John B. Hood is from Tennessee, and was for some time in the old army, but resigned, and followed the legal profession in his native State. When hostilities commenced he was among the first to take the field, and was appointed
Daniel P. Whiting (search for this): chapter 38
sion had at last arrived somewhere in the neighborhood. Jackson's, Longstreet's, and other divisions were distributed in every direction through the neighboring woods, and it was difficult to ascertain in what order; for, having left my horse for five minutes to drink a cup of rye coffee, kindly proffered by an aide, I was nearly an hour in finding again the much coveted bed of straw. First, I found myself among Magruder's men; next, I turned down the road a few yards, and found myself in Whiting's division, and, strange as it may seem, I had hunted among nearly all the divisions of the army ere I found my voracious horse, which had eaten up all my bedding. Unstrapping a blanket, I threw myself among leaves and branches upon the sand, and did every thing I could imagine to court sleep; but just as my eyes closed, some. one would shove me and inquire: Where is Lee's Headquarters? Is this Longstreet's division? and so on. At other times, I suddenly awoke and found some one moun
Daniel P. Whiting (search for this): chapter 39
erous and powerful. It is said that the sight of Wilcox, Featherstone, Pryor, Whiting, Archer, Hood, and others advancing afoot, sword in hand, cheering on their cowould have followed such commanders anywhere. Come on, boys! said little Whiting, who, though commanding a division, would lead his old brigade to the charge- nd off they went up the hill, yelling and firing like madmen. Brigadier-General Daniel P. Whiting is a native of New-York, about fifty years of age, small in statstifying to his merit and industry. In the absence of General Gustavus Smith, Whiting always commanded the division, and proved himself an officer of great ability s acted as brigadiers, captains as colonels, and sergeants as captains. Major Whiting, as he is called, is much beloved by his men, and has always accomplished whatought to accomplish something, since they have Jackson, Longstreet, the Hills, Whiting, and others, over there. I heard President Davis remark, subsequently, to a s
Daniel P. Whiting (search for this): chapter 42
st, holding on like grim death to his position on our left, and punishing the enemy frightfully with his well-disposed artillery. Thus, in truth, all our generals were hotly engaged at different points of the line. The impetuous Ambrose Hill was with Ewell and others under Jackson, and had enough to do to keep time with the rapid movements of their chief. The satirical; stoical D. H. Hill was there, cold as ice, and firm as a rock. Evans, Stuart, McLaws, Maxey Gregg, Jenkins, Barksdale, Whiting, Archer, Pickett, Field, Walton, Pendleton, and a host of other historical heroes, were in command to-day, and each seemed to rival the other in prudence and valor; while Hood and his Texans far outshone all their previous deeds by their present acts of daring. Over all the field the battle was going favorably for us, and no complaint was uttered on any hand-all seemed to desire to get as close to Pope as possible, and to show their powder-blackened faces to him. I believe there was no
Elijah White (search for this): chapter 10
le town of Waterford our scouts in Maryland daring of Elijah White capture of McClellan's orderlies. It now appeared, s distant. The most remarkable of these daring fellows, Elijah White, was a rich Maryland planter, who possessed several fineard the jingling of spurs and harness, and looking up, saw White on his grey wearily ambling by. The invitation to take a cnd his mare having been well provided for by the black boy, White was so charmed with the savor of sundry beefsteaks broilingand picket-guards were going out on duty. What's the news, White? asked one. How's all the girls in Maryland? chimed in anbooks have been volumes of lies. That is all very good, White, broke in a fat old captain; but go on with the narrative; one say, That's him; I know his voice, major! That you, White? Yes, that's me; how are you, major? Fine night, isn't itI cantered to town; and here I am. At the conclusion of White's story, we made some hot punch, as best we. could, and wra
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