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Bordeaux (France) (search for this): chapter 5.44
look! he raises his head. A gun sounds from down the river, reverberating amid the bluffs, and echoing back from the high banks around Wilton, where his friend Mr. Randolph lives. It must be the signal of a ship just arrived from London, in this month of June, 1764; the Fly-by-Night, most probably, with all the list of articles which Colonel Cary sent for-new suits for himself from the London tailors (no good ones in this colony as yet), fine silks for the ladies, wines from Madeira, and Bordeaux, and Oporto, new editions of the Tattler, or Spectator, or Tom Jones, all paid for by the tobacco crop raised here at Ampthill. The Flyby-Night probably brings also the London Gazette, showing what view is taken in England of the rising spirit of rebellion in the colonies, and what the ministers think of the doctrine of coercion. Our present Governor, Fauquier, is not wholly sound, it is thought, upon these questions, and Lord Dunmore it is supposed will succeed him. A second gun! The Ca
Virginia (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 5.44
that, or rather the enemy have. Once, under McClellan, they seemed only bent on fighting big battles, and making a treaty of peace. Now they seem determined to drive us to the last ditch, and into it, the mother earth to be shovelled over us. Virginia is no longer a battlefield, but a living, shuddering body, upon which is to be inflicted the immedicabile vulnus of all-destroying war. So be it; she counted the cost, and is not yet at the last ditch. All that talk about immedicable wounds I return to my reverie. The war grows tedious; carnage bores one. Bores!!! This is, I think, about the fortieth day of fighting. We had the seven days battles around Richmond in 1862. Is this campaign to be the seventy days battles around Virginia? The game keeps up with wonderful animation; guns roaring, shell bursting, and listen! that long, sustained, resolute crash of the deadly smallarms! Suddenly it stops; but a good many brave fellows have gone under in that five minutes work.
Malvern Hill (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 5.44
versal favourite. Of humour how rich! of bearing how frank and cordial! of courage how stern and obstinate! Under fire, Gordon was a perfect rock; nothing could move him. In camp, off duty, he was the soul of good-fellowship. His bow and smile were inimitable, his voice delightful. He would present a bouquet to a lady with a little speech which nobody else could approach; and, at the head of the Old first North Carolina cavalry, he would have charged McClellan's massed artillery at Malvern Hill. We used to tell him that his rapid rise to the rank of General was the result of his personal, political, and pecuniary position; but that alliterative accusation was only a jest. He won his rank by hard fighting and hard work; he gave the South all he had-his time, his toil, his brain; she demanded his life, and he gave that, too, without a murmur. Peace to that brave! These memories seduce me. I am getting triste-blue. I do not like blue, having so many disagreeable associations
Fauquier (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 5.44
suits for himself from the London tailors (no good ones in this colony as yet), fine silks for the ladies, wines from Madeira, and Bordeaux, and Oporto, new editions of the Tattler, or Spectator, or Tom Jones, all paid for by the tobacco crop raised here at Ampthill. The Flyby-Night probably brings also the London Gazette, showing what view is taken in England of the rising spirit of rebellion in the colonies, and what the ministers think of the doctrine of coercion. Our present Governor, Fauquier, is not wholly sound, it is thought, upon these questions, and Lord Dunmore it is supposed will succeed him. A second gun! The Captain of the Fly-by-Night seems to have anchored at the wharf, and the swivel, announcing his arrival to his patrons, is making a jolly racket. Again!-and there again! Bomb! bomb! bomb! bomb! Can that be the Fly-by-Night, and is that Mr. Randolph galloping up in hot haste from the ferry opposite Wilton? It is a courier who stops a moment to tell me that the
Brook (Indiana, United States) (search for this): chapter 5.44
is dead at the Yellow Tavern yonder, and sleeps at Hollywood; but as the dying Adams said of Jefferson, he still lives --lives in every heart, the greatest of the Southern cavaliers! His plume still floats before the eyes of the gray horsemen, and history shall never forget him! There was Gordon, too-alive but the other day, now dead and gone whither so many comrades have preceded him. He fell in that same fierce onslaught on the enemy's cavalry, when they tried to enter Richmond by the Brook road, in that sudden attack which saved the capital. I blamed Stuart once for his reckless attack with so small a force as he then had on so large a one as the enemy's, said a most intelligent gentleman of the neighbourhood to me not long since; but now I know that he proved himself here, as everywhere, the great soldier, and that he thereby saved Richmond. And the gallant Gordon! how well I knew him, and how we all loved him! Tall, elegant in person, distinguished in address, with a cha
Petersburg, Va. (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 5.44
On the road to Petersburg: notes of an officer of the C. S. A. 1. So June wears on in this good or bad year 1864, and our friend General Grant is leaving Cold Harbour for a new base, I think. He has had a hard time of it since he crossed the Rapidan, and we also; fighting in the Wilderness, (I came near going under there); fighting at Spotsylvania Court-House (our Po is more famous now than the classic stream of Virgil); fighting on the North Anna, a maiden who stretched her arms betearthworks with their bayonets in twenty minutes, whenever they stop; sun rising and setting; wind blowing; woods reverberating with shots; column still moving toward James river. Then the question is settled; General Grant is going to try the Petersburg line of advance on Richmond, with his base at City Point. Judicious! General Lee said a year ago, I am told, that this was the quarter from which Richmond was most exposed. That terrible question of our communications --the Southern railr
Chancellorsville (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 5.44
work. Close up! Over James river above Drury's Bluff-not Fort darling, nobody ever heard of that place — on pontoons. The artillery moves on all night; I and the most amiable of Inspector-Generals bivouac with saddles for pillows in a clover-field. We have just passed an ancient-looking house, but seeing no light, forebore from arousing the lady of the establishment, preferring to sleep al fresco, by the camp-fire. Yonder, through the gloaming, as I lie on my red blanket — from Chancellorsville — with feet to the rail fire, and my head on my English saddle, as I smoke — not after supper-yonder I see the old house. It is not a very imposing place. Set upon a handsome hill, amid waving fields, above the James, nearly opposite the Randolph house of Wilton, it would be attractive in good times. But now it is pulled to pieces and dust-covered. For the cannon of the Army of Northern Virginia have rolled by the door hour after hour, and the trampling hoofs of the cavalry have ra
Ampthill (United Kingdom) (search for this): chapter 5.44
is with real historic interest that I gaze upon this old mansion. For this is Ampthill, the former residence of the famous Colonel Archibald Cary of the first Revoluger shall be in his breast before the sunset of that day! There spoke Cary of Ampthill, as they used to call him — a man who religiously kept his word, saying little bright plumage of the singing birds perched amid the rustling foliage-Cary of Ampthill must surely have been a gentleman of taste. Is that him yonder, sitting on thr, or Spectator, or Tom Jones, all paid for by the tobacco crop raised here at Ampthill. The Flyby-Night probably brings also the London Gazette, showing what view i the every-day world of 1864; the year 1764 has quite disappeared; and Cary of Ampthill — where is his figure? That is only my friend, the amiable Inspector-General, sweet murmur, and the birds are singing in the trees as they sang for Cary of Ampthill. Gentlemen, will you walk in to breakfast? O most prosaic-but also most
City Point (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 5.44
r-hungry. A tedious march down the right bank of the Swamp, into the low grounds of Charles City, everywhere facing Grant; line of battle; fighting on the long bridge road; men throwing up earthworks with their bayonets in twenty minutes, whenever they stop; sun rising and setting; wind blowing; woods reverberating with shots; column still moving toward James river. Then the question is settled; General Grant is going to try the Petersburg line of advance on Richmond, with his base at City Point. Judicious! General Lee said a year ago, I am told, that this was the quarter from which Richmond was most exposed. That terrible question of our communications --the Southern railroads! After all, it is bread and meat which will decide this war, or rather, I am afraid, the want of it. The granaries of the Gulf States are full, and we are starving. Who is to blame? History will answer that question. The time will come when the survivors of this army, or their children, will know
England (United Kingdom) (search for this): chapter 5.44
ing as he reads about the doings of parliament. He has apparently just returned from inspecting the blood-horses in his stables, and after taking his morning julep, is reading the Gazette, and pondering on the probable results of secession from England, with the sword exercise which is sure to follow. But look! he raises his head. A gun sounds from down the river, reverberating amid the bluffs, and echoing back from the high banks around Wilton, where his friend Mr. Randolph lives. It mustes from Madeira, and Bordeaux, and Oporto, new editions of the Tattler, or Spectator, or Tom Jones, all paid for by the tobacco crop raised here at Ampthill. The Flyby-Night probably brings also the London Gazette, showing what view is taken in England of the rising spirit of rebellion in the colonies, and what the ministers think of the doctrine of coercion. Our present Governor, Fauquier, is not wholly sound, it is thought, upon these questions, and Lord Dunmore it is supposed will succeed
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