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Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 1. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), Diary of Robert E. Park, Macon, Georgia, late Captain Twelfth Alabama regiment, Confederate States army. (search)
r, I marched with my company to-day. We passed Louisa Courthouse, and halted near Trevillian's depot, seven miles from Gordonsville. On our route we passed the late cavalry battle-field, where Generals Hampton, Butler and Fitzhugh Lee, defeated Yankee General Sheridan, et al. A great many dead and swollen horses were on the ground, and graves of slain soldiers were quite numerous. The fight was wamly contested. * * * * * * * * * June 17th Rhodes' division passed through towards Lynchany him. The very thought is exhilarating, and makes me feel better. * * * * June 28th Joined my regiment two miles beyond Staunton, and found the men glad to see me and in excellent spirits after their long, rapid, but fruitless pursuit of Yankee General Hunter. The command is ordered to be ready for rapid marching, and I packed my valise and satchel, retaining only an extra suit of under clothing. In my valise I left my diary, kept for two years past, and giving daily brief accounts of
Heros von Borcke, Memoirs of the Confederate War for Independence, Chapter 5: (search)
had, on my return, a very amusing adventure. In passing one of the farmhouses on the road, my sharp eye discovered, behind the curtains of one of the windows, a Federal officer, who disappeared on my approach. Instantly dismounting, I knocked at the door, ordering it to be opened at once; but instead of this, I heard tables and chairs moved hurriedly against it, which so much provoked me that I threw my whole weight upon the light frame. The door gave way with a loud crash, and hurled my Yankee, with all his chair-and-table fortifications, over upon the floor of the little parlour. Before I could lay hands upon the poor fellow-who, being unarmed, and seeing himself at the mercy of so powerful-looking an adversary, had risen from his humiliating position with the drollest expression of extreme terror on his face — a very pretty young woman came out of the adjoining room, bearing a waiter in her hands with a bottle of wine and other refreshments, which she offered me in the most gra
The Annals of the Civil War Written by Leading Participants North and South (ed. Alexander Kelly McClure), Recollections of Grant. (search)
. The noise of the bombardment was constant, the click of the rifles on the line of pickets never ceased day or night, and many were the deceptions practiced by the pickets of both armies as they stood within speaking distance of each other to induce a show of heads above the long lines of rude rifle-pits. I remember how, one day, I and two of my companions fired for an hour at a rebel who kept for ever hopping up and down behind the sand bags and calling constantly, Try again, will you, Mr. Yankee? Finally the figure mounted up in full view, when we discovered we were cheaply sold, as the daring rebel was a stuffed suit of old clothes on a pole, while the mockery came from the real rebel, safe behind the sand bags. Another one, more reckless, however, placed himself in the open embrasure of a low earthwork for a moment, and shouted Fire I In an instant he lay stretched dead in the embrasure. An effort was made by his comrades to pull away his body, but shots were constantly fire
John James Geer, Beyond the lines: A Yankee prisoner loose in Dixie, Chapter 16: (search)
ew clothing. He furnished me, also, with two guards with loaded muskets. I then went to the building where the trial was being held. Upon entering the room, I saw the poor, friendless slave, loaded with chains, sitting in the culprit's dock, while the brutal Woods sat confidently near him, fully expecting to have him condemned. When I mildly requested the court to allow me to speak a word in defence of the accused; Woods sprang to his feet, and swore that they would not listen to any d-d Yankee. This brought the owner of the negro to his feet, with the exclamation, that I was a white man, and, consequently, entitled to speak. A long debate ensued on this point, which was settled finally in my favor, and I took the stand. Gentlemen, I began, I am a Yankee prisoner. I have been in some three or four of your county jails, and several of your penitentiaries; but still your commandant has confidence in me, and has given a parole of the town, and your surgeon has made statements
J. B. Jones, A Rebel War Clerk's Diary, XXVII. June, 1863 (search)
rty. There are some instances related of personal indignity and violence. They returned with their spoils to camp, after a week devoted by them in the Northern Neck, among our unhappy people, to the highly civilized, brave, and chivalrous exploits of theft, robbery, and almost every species of felony committed upon a defenseless, unarmed, and helpless population-chiefly consisting of women and children! It was an easy achievement — a proud conquestthe more glorious to the noble and heroic Yankee, because stained with crime and won without danger to his beastly carcass. This is but a fair specimen of their conduct whenever they have been permitted to devastate the country with impunity. A few days ago I addressed a letter to the Secretary of War, suggesting that the department encourage voluntary organizations of non-conscripts for local defense, and that they be armed with every superfluous musket that the government may possess. If this be done, the army will not be so much em
Charles Congdon, Tribune Essays: Leading Articles Contributing to the New York Tribune from 1857 to 1863. (ed. Horace Greeley), Mr. Mitchel's commercial views. (search)
in — a traitor, and proud of his treason — a kidnapper, and proud of his kidnapping. His brazen boldness is the most delicious thing of its kind which has ever come to our knowledge; except through the pages of Jonathan Wild the Great. He makes us think of the old Border Ruffian of Scotland, who sae rantingly, sac dauntingly danced round the gallows-tree. We are indebted to him in this prosaic time for a new sensation. A champion of Irish Emancipation transmogrified into a nigger-driving Yankee, and still yearning for new gangs and fresh niggers, is an object for any traveling menagerie, and cannot be gazed upon without awe, and other sensations too numerous and too peculiar to be mentioned. We do not know that our readers will be at all surprised when they learn that this Irish patriot has plainly avowed himself the champion of the African Slave-trade. He is more Southern than the extremest Southern soldier of Slavery; and like most converts of the kind, he makes an ass of him
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 2. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 223 (search)
the popular heart is beating time, the following paraphrase of a few stanzas of Aytoun's Scottish Cavalier, which may be sung to the familiar tune of The old English gentleman, may do a little service by way of relief.] Come, listen to another song That shall make your heart beat high, Bring the crimson to your forehead, And the lustre to your eye; A song of the days of old, Of the years that have long gone by, And of the yeomen stout and bold, As e'er wore sword on thigh. Of the brave old Yankee We use the term “Yankee” in the sense in which the South uses it, as synonymous with “Free-State men.” yeomen Of the days of Seventy-six! For when the news was spread abroad, The struggle had begun, Far over all our Northern hills They started up as one; And from many a farm and workshop, Ere the setting of the sun, They watered with their sacred blood The field of Lexington. The true old Yankee yeomen Of the days of Seventy-six! They were the first to bend the knee When the standard
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Documents and Narratives, Volume 3. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 158 (search)
r bodies are said to have been thrown off the bridge into the river by their rebel antagonists. A reliable man, who was in the fight, tells us that one wounded man begged not to be thrown over, but he says, I heard a splash. Three of our men attempted to swim the Guyandotte River; two of them are reported shot; one did swim the river, but he received a bullet in the leg. One man was pulled out from under a house. Another concealed near says: I heard an officer yell, Here, shoot this d — d Yankee! Wm. Wilson, of Marion, in this county, is said to have been thrown from the bridge. He swam out, concealed himself, and after daylight the next morning, he with another man, having passed up under the bank of the Ohio, was shot from the house of Robert Stewart, a notorious rebel, just above Guyandotte, and wounded severely in the thigh. Wilson was lying at Fuller's, in Quaker Bottom, Monday night. Yells of the infuriated rebels were often heard, such as: Don't let a man escape! Give 'e
Benjamnin F. Butler, Butler's Book: Autobiography and Personal Reminiscences of Major-General Benjamin Butler, Chapter 9: taking command of a Southern City. (search)
er. George C. strong, A. A. General. This brought the proprietor to headquarters with a very proper and humble apology, and the order of suspension was revoked. There were several attempts on the part of the people not to have any intercourse with our soldiers, nor to trade with them. One of the privates went into a shoe store to buy a pair of shoes and asked the price. They were three dollars. He offered the gold for them and the man replied that he would not sell shoes to a d — d Yankee. The next day the provost marshal put a red flag over the shoe store door and sold its contents at auction. That shopkeeper's experiment was not a happy one. But very soon there was no uncivil treatment received by our soldiers except from the upper class of women. But to return to our. meeting. I read my proclamation to the city officials. Pierre Soule, late United States senator and minister to Spain, was put forth as their spokesman. Mr. Soule did not complain of the proclamation
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Documents and Narratives, Volume 4. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 159 (search)
up, and, placing his pistol to his head, threatened to shoot him if he continued to scream. This was on Sunday, the day of the battle. One of the most important witnesses was Gen. James B. Ricketts, well known in Washington and throughout the country, lately promoted for his daring and self-sacrificing courage. After having been wounded in the battle of Bull Run, he was captured, and as he lay helpless on his back, a party of rebels passing him cried out: Knock out his brains, the d — d Yankee. He met Gen. Beauregard, an old acquaintance, only a year his senior at the United States Military Academy, where both were educated. He had met the rebel General in the South a number of times. By this head of the rebel army, on the day after the battle, he was told that his (Gen. Ricketts's) treatment would depend upon the treatment extended to the rebel privateers. His first lieutenant, Ramsey, who was killed, was stripped of every article of his clothing but his socks, and left naked
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