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Browsing named entities in a specific section of Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 35. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones). Search the whole document.

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Agincourt (France) (search for this): chapter 1.25
ed fields, the tinkling of the cow-bells in the distant pasture, all proclaimed that Peace was queen. And yet while the direful war has passed away, and the animosities and acerbities engendered by it are fast being buried in the grave of Oblivion — where is the gray-headed Confederate whose eve does not kindle at the remembrance of those four heroic years? Does he not feel like re-echoing the glowing words which the great dramatist puts in the mouth of Henry the Fifth the night before Agincourt, This story shall the goodman teach his son.— The that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors, And say, To-morrow is Saint Crispin; Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, And say, These wounds I had on Crispin's day. And does not his heart burn while he tells with pride of the days when with unfaltering steps, though weary and hungry, but with the light of battle in his eye, he followed in the lead of those illustrious ca
Robert M. Mosby (search for this): chapter 1.25
bities engendered by it are fast being buried in the grave of Oblivion — where is the gray-headed Confederate whose eve does not kindle at the remembrance of those four heroic years? Does he not feel like re-echoing the glowing words which the great dramatist puts in the mouth of Henry the Fifth the night before Agincourt, This story shall the goodman teach his son.— The that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors, And say, To-morrow is Saint Crispin; Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, And say, These wounds I had on Crispin's day. And does not his heart burn while he tells with pride of the days when with unfaltering steps, though weary and hungry, but with the light of battle in his eye, he followed in the lead of those illustrious captains and masters of war, A. P. Hill, Jackson, Hampton, Stuart, Mosby, Johnston, Kirby Smith and a host of other gallant spirits—and last, though not least, of Robert Edward
Crispin (search for this): chapter 1.25
bities engendered by it are fast being buried in the grave of Oblivion — where is the gray-headed Confederate whose eve does not kindle at the remembrance of those four heroic years? Does he not feel like re-echoing the glowing words which the great dramatist puts in the mouth of Henry the Fifth the night before Agincourt, This story shall the goodman teach his son.— The that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors, And say, To-morrow is Saint Crispin; Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, And say, These wounds I had on Crispin's day. And does not his heart burn while he tells with pride of the days when with unfaltering steps, though weary and hungry, but with the light of battle in his eye, he followed in the lead of those illustrious captains and masters of war, A. P. Hill, Jackson, Hampton, Stuart, Mosby, Johnston, Kirby Smith and a host of other gallant spirits—and last, though not least, of Robert Edward
Robert Edward Lee (search for this): chapter 1.25
bities engendered by it are fast being buried in the grave of Oblivion — where is the gray-headed Confederate whose eve does not kindle at the remembrance of those four heroic years? Does he not feel like re-echoing the glowing words which the great dramatist puts in the mouth of Henry the Fifth the night before Agincourt, This story shall the goodman teach his son.— The that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors, And say, To-morrow is Saint Crispin; Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, And say, These wounds I had on Crispin's day. And does not his heart burn while he tells with pride of the days when with unfaltering steps, though weary and hungry, but with the light of battle in his eye, he followed in the lead of those illustrious captains and masters of war, A. P. Hill, Jackson, Hampton, Stuart, Mosby, Johnston, Kirby Smith and a host of other gallant spirits—and last, though not least, of Robert Edward Lee
Frank Hampton (search for this): chapter 1.25
bities engendered by it are fast being buried in the grave of Oblivion — where is the gray-headed Confederate whose eve does not kindle at the remembrance of those four heroic years? Does he not feel like re-echoing the glowing words which the great dramatist puts in the mouth of Henry the Fifth the night before Agincourt, This story shall the goodman teach his son.— The that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors, And say, To-morrow is Saint Crispin; Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, And say, These wounds I had on Crispin's day. And does not his heart burn while he tells with pride of the days when with unfaltering steps, though weary and hungry, but with the light of battle in his eye, he followed in the lead of those illustrious captains and masters of war, A. P. Hill, Jackson, Hampton, Stuart, Mosby, Johnston, Kirby Smith and a host of other gallant spirits—and last, though not least, of Robert Edward
Stonewall Jackson (search for this): chapter 1.25
bities engendered by it are fast being buried in the grave of Oblivion — where is the gray-headed Confederate whose eve does not kindle at the remembrance of those four heroic years? Does he not feel like re-echoing the glowing words which the great dramatist puts in the mouth of Henry the Fifth the night before Agincourt, This story shall the goodman teach his son.— The that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors, And say, To-morrow is Saint Crispin; Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, And say, These wounds I had on Crispin's day. And does not his heart burn while he tells with pride of the days when with unfaltering steps, though weary and hungry, but with the light of battle in his eye, he followed in the lead of those illustrious captains and masters of war, A. P. Hill, Jackson, Hampton, Stuart, Mosby, Johnston, Kirby Smith and a host of other gallant spirits—and last, though not least, of Robert Edward
A. P. Hill (search for this): chapter 1.25
rbities engendered by it are fast being buried in the grave of Oblivion — where is the gray-headed Confederate whose eve does not kindle at the remembrance of those four heroic years? Does he not feel like re-echoing the glowing words which the great dramatist puts in the mouth of Henry the Fifth the night before Agincourt, This story shall the goodman teach his son.— The that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors, And say, To-morrow is Saint Crispin; Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, And say, These wounds I had on Crispin's day. And does not his heart burn while he tells with pride of the days when with unfaltering steps, though weary and hungry, but with the light of battle in his eye, he followed in the lead of those illustrious captains and masters of war, A. P. Hill, Jackson, Hampton, Stuart, Mosby, Johnston, Kirby Smith and a host of other gallant spirits—and last, though not least, of Robert Edward
J. E. B. Stuart (search for this): chapter 1.25
rbities engendered by it are fast being buried in the grave of Oblivion — where is the gray-headed Confederate whose eve does not kindle at the remembrance of those four heroic years? Does he not feel like re-echoing the glowing words which the great dramatist puts in the mouth of Henry the Fifth the night before Agincourt, This story shall the goodman teach his son.— The that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors, And say, To-morrow is Saint Crispin; Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, And say, These wounds I had on Crispin's day. And does not his heart burn while he tells with pride of the days when with unfaltering steps, though weary and hungry, but with the light of battle in his eye, he followed in the lead of those illustrious captains and masters of war, A. P. Hill, Jackson, Hampton, Stuart, Mosby, Johnston, Kirby Smith and a host of other gallant spirits—and last, though not least, of Robert Edward
Kirby Smith (search for this): chapter 1.25
bities engendered by it are fast being buried in the grave of Oblivion — where is the gray-headed Confederate whose eve does not kindle at the remembrance of those four heroic years? Does he not feel like re-echoing the glowing words which the great dramatist puts in the mouth of Henry the Fifth the night before Agincourt, This story shall the goodman teach his son.— The that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors, And say, To-morrow is Saint Crispin; Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, And say, These wounds I had on Crispin's day. And does not his heart burn while he tells with pride of the days when with unfaltering steps, though weary and hungry, but with the light of battle in his eye, he followed in the lead of those illustrious captains and masters of war, A. P. Hill, Jackson, Hampton, Stuart, Mosby, Johnston, Kirby Smith and a host of other gallant spirits—and last, though not least, of Robert Edward
Joseph E. Johnston (search for this): chapter 1.25
rbities engendered by it are fast being buried in the grave of Oblivion — where is the gray-headed Confederate whose eve does not kindle at the remembrance of those four heroic years? Does he not feel like re-echoing the glowing words which the great dramatist puts in the mouth of Henry the Fifth the night before Agincourt, This story shall the goodman teach his son.— The that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbors, And say, To-morrow is Saint Crispin; Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, And say, These wounds I had on Crispin's day. And does not his heart burn while he tells with pride of the days when with unfaltering steps, though weary and hungry, but with the light of battle in his eye, he followed in the lead of those illustrious captains and masters of war, A. P. Hill, Jackson, Hampton, Stuart, Mosby, Johnston, Kirby Smith and a host of other gallant spirits—and last, though not least, of Robert Edward
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