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John Esten Cooke, Wearing of the Gray: Being Personal Portraits, Scenes, and Adventures of War. 2 0 Browse Search
Oliver Otis Howard, Autobiography of Oliver Otis Howard, major general , United States army : volume 1 2 0 Browse Search
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John Esten Cooke, Wearing of the Gray: Being Personal Portraits, Scenes, and Adventures of War., A fight, a dead man, and a coffin: an incident of 1864. (search)
while being conducted across the Blue Ridge thought that he discovered an opportunity to escape. Drawing his pistol, which by some negligence had been left upon his person, he fired upon his guard. The bullet missed its aim-and the guard firing in turn, blew out Lieutenant Cole's brains. A singular coincidence comes to the writer's memory here. The mother of the young ladies whose adventures are here related, had on this day gone to attend the funeral of young Carlisle Whiting at the Old Chapel some miles distant. Young Whiting had been killed by a Federal prisoner, whom he was conducting south, near Front Royal. The prisoner's pistol had been overlooked; he drew it suddenly, and fired upon his guard, the bullet inflicting a mortal wound. At nightfall the Federal troops had torn the house to pieces, taken all which they could not destroy, and had vanished. Mountjoy had succeeded in getting off with his men. At six o'clock on the next morning poor Braxton breathed his last
Oliver Otis Howard, Autobiography of Oliver Otis Howard, major general , United States army : volume 1, Chapter 3: college days at Bowdoin; United States Military Academy (search)
. William Smyth. At least once a week every member of our class was obliged to declaim before the class under the supervision of Professor Boody. He also caused every student to write themes, which must fill at least two pages of foolscap. Professor Boody took great pains with our speaking, endeavoring to train us in the right way in all that pertained to elocution. He was equally careful in reviewing and correcting our compositions. One of the professors was always present in the Old chapel where all the students met at dawn for prayers, and President Leonard Woods presided at the evening chapel exercises; his singularly sonorous voice so impressed every student that he never forgot it nor the dignified lessons which came gently yet forcibly from his lips. As I run over my college diary, and letters which I wrote to my mother and which she always preserved with care, prizing them far beyond their merits, I see the glaring faults of composition in, first, the gradual but sl