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Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 20. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones) 4 0 Browse Search
J. William Jones, Christ in the camp, or religion in Lee's army 3 1 Browse Search
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 15. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones) 1 1 Browse Search
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Browsing named entities in Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 20. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones). You can also browse the collection for Lewis Coleman or search for Lewis Coleman in all documents.

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Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 20. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), chapter 1.14 (search)
e artillery of our army came out of the war with at least ninety per cent. of its guns, ammunition and equipment captured from the enemy, which fact tells its own story, and there is no page in the splendid history of the Army of Northern Virginia more luminous with glory and heroism than that which is emblazoned with the flashes of artillery which belonged to that army. Are there any more glorious names on the proud and immortal roll of fame than those of Pelham, of Pegram, of Latimer, of Coleman, of Crutchfield, of Brown, of Watson, of McCarthy, and a thousand others that I might mention? Could anything be more incomplete than the history of the Army of Northern Virginia, with the splendid parts performed by the Washington Artillery Battalion, the Howitzer Battalion, Pegram's glorious battalion, Jones's, Carter's, Andrew's, Poagne's and dozens of other battalions and batteries, the equals, in every respect, of any of those I have named? As I remarked before, I cannot begin to r
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 20. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), Unveiling of the monument to the Richmond Howitzers (search)
And how tenderly, when the pitiless rain had ceased, we bent over the still form of Randolph Fairfax—the offering of our grand old ally in every fight, the Rockbridge artillery—how tenderly we bent over that marble sleep and gazed for the last time on the fair, bright brow of the beautiful boy. How we watched through all that winter, while one, not of the Howitzers, but in authority over us, was sinking, and the very light of learning itself seemed to flicker in the socket as the life of Lewis Coleman put on its spiritual body. It was in the first clench of that long death grip which lasted from the Wilderness to Appomattox that as John Thompson Brown rode to the front of his batteries to secure an advance position, a bullet from the brown brush which hid the enemy's sharpshooters laid him in the dust. The beat of one of the warmest hearts, making a man's breast like a woman's, there ceased, and the bright outlook of a life all aflame with generous and manly hopes had fallen quenche