Browsing named entities in Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 11. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones). You can also browse the collection for William Meade or search for William Meade in all documents.

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Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 11. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), General Beauregard's report of the battle of Drury's Bluff. (search)
ginia Cavalry, then encamped near Bull Run, had assembled to celebrate the day at Stuart's Tavern, on the Little River Turnpike. The party was composed of Captain Jas. H. Drake, Captain Irving, Lieutenant Larrick, Dave and Gash Drake, Wm. Guy, Wm. Meade, and the writer of this; if there were others I cannot, at this distant day, recall their names. The day was cold and dark and dreary, but the bright fire from the old fashioned fire-place, shining upon the polished and-irons, sanded floor andtkins, of Wheat's battalion, and told us that the battalion was on picket duty, and he on the grand round, and had come out of his way to warm himself by the hospitable fireside of the tavern. Learning from him that Major Wheat was on the line, Meade and I started off in search of him. We found him at his headquarters, a fly under a tree, at the cross road, and it required no great deal of eloquence to induce him to join our dinner-party, for the Major was one of those whole souls that would
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 11. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), A reminiscence of the Christmas of 1861. (search)
ginia Cavalry, then encamped near Bull Run, had assembled to celebrate the day at Stuart's Tavern, on the Little River Turnpike. The party was composed of Captain Jas. H. Drake, Captain Irving, Lieutenant Larrick, Dave and Gash Drake, Wm. Guy, Wm. Meade, and the writer of this; if there were others I cannot, at this distant day, recall their names. The day was cold and dark and dreary, but the bright fire from the old fashioned fire-place, shining upon the polished and-irons, sanded floor andtkins, of Wheat's battalion, and told us that the battalion was on picket duty, and he on the grand round, and had come out of his way to warm himself by the hospitable fireside of the tavern. Learning from him that Major Wheat was on the line, Meade and I started off in search of him. We found him at his headquarters, a fly under a tree, at the cross road, and it required no great deal of eloquence to induce him to join our dinner-party, for the Major was one of those whole souls that would