hide Sorting

You can sort these results in two ways:

By entity
Chronological order for dates, alphabetical order for places and people.
By position (current method)
As the entities appear in the document.

You are currently sorting in ascending order. Sort in descending order.

hide Most Frequent Entities

The entities that appear most frequently in this document are shown below.

Entity Max. Freq Min. Freq
R. E. Lee 358 0 Browse Search
James Longstreet 283 3 Browse Search
J. E. B. Stuart 196 0 Browse Search
R. S. Ewell 190 2 Browse Search
Robert Edward Lee 139 9 Browse Search
United States (United States) 124 0 Browse Search
A. P. Hill 108 8 Browse Search
Stonewall Jackson 107 1 Browse Search
W. W. Kirkland 95 1 Browse Search
Robert F. Hoke 94 2 Browse Search
View all entities in this document...

Browsing named entities in a specific section of Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 23. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones). Search the whole document.

Found 404 total hits in 148 results.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 ...
George J. Hundley (search for this): chapter 1.29
he interior working of the great machinery of war. I have been actuated in this labor by a desire to oblige an old comrade of those days of which I write, and I trust you will find it such as you desired it to be. Your friend and comrade, Geo. J. Hundley. The following is the sketch referred to in the foregoing letter: The beginning and the ending. In the winter of 1860-‘61, I was a student at Judge Brockenborough's celebrated law school in Lexington, Va. The law class, I thinke ones shamed him and bade him hold his peace. We obtained our paroles and resumed the cares and duties of citizenship. I got me some more law books, and, thanks to my fellow-Virginians, have never wanted for clients from that day to this. Geo. J. Hundley. [From the Daily Charlotte (N. C.) Observer, January 5, 1896.] A secret session debate of the North Carolina secession Convention of 1862. Dr. Kemp B. Battle, a delegate to the Convention, makes public for the first time Proceedings
Scruggs (search for this): chapter 1.29
l accepted, and every man stood still to witness the tilt between two such gallant men. They went at it, and fought for some minutes pretty evenly matched, whilst Scruggs sat his horse close by. Soon the Federal wounded Major Breathed in the arm and seemed to get some advantage, when Scruggs shot the brave fellow dead. I was not nScruggs shot the brave fellow dead. I was not near enough to hear whether Scruggs demanded his surrender or not, but I am sure he evinced no intention of surrendering. I passed him as he lay gasping his last, and looked with pity into the dying face of the foeman, so brave. Here the gallant Colonel Boston was urging forward his men, and it was the last I ever saw of him aliveScruggs demanded his surrender or not, but I am sure he evinced no intention of surrendering. I passed him as he lay gasping his last, and looked with pity into the dying face of the foeman, so brave. Here the gallant Colonel Boston was urging forward his men, and it was the last I ever saw of him alive, for presently they brought him out dead, a ball having entered his mouth and caused instant death. Some few years ago, in conversation with General Rosser, he told me that he also witnessed this duel between Breathed and his Federal antagonist. The next day we passed through Farmville, and in the evening halted at the coal pi
G. T. Beauregard (search for this): chapter 1.29
little finger (just think of that!) went home crying as if his heart would break. For the first year of the war, I was in the infantry (the Nineteenth Virginia regiment); after that I was in the cavalry till the end. At Manassas Junction, we camped for a long time and struggled with measles, hooping cough, mumps, pneumonia, and typhoid fever, whilst General Scott was grooming another antagonist, with whom he was soon to further test our mettle. It was there I first saw General Lee. General Beauregard held a review for him. Tall and straight, with iron-gray hair, and moustache as black as the raven's wing, he was the very embodiment of warrior grace and symmetry as he sat on his horse, and viewed our undisciplined lines with a serious face and grave and dignified mien. I never looked upon his like before, and know I never shall again. I saw him last at Farmville on our way to the doom of Appomattox. I never saw him after the war, and am glad I never did. He will live in my poor m
Theodore Read (search for this): chapter 1.29
e these three desperate men came down right amongst us, whilst our men were reloading, cutting and slashing with their sabres as they came. A sight so unusual puzzled our men at first, but soon finding these fellows to be in earnest, some one cried out, Kill the d——d Yankees, and instantly the three men went down as if they had suddenly melted away. I remember seeing the dust fly from their coats behind as the bullets passed through their bodies. One of these officers proved to be General Theodore Read, of the Federal army, who was in command of the detachment. I have since learned, through a lawyer friend, Walter Sydnor, of Hanover county, Va., an interesting fact concerning this officer. He says that after the war he was a student at the University of Missouri, and there met Dr. Daniel Read, the father of General Read, an elegant old gentleman, who was then the president of that institution, and that the old gentleman blamed General Grant for the death of his son, and never for
Philip Sheridan (search for this): chapter 1.29
nd slept on the hill. Next morning we passed down the river on that side 'till we reached Howardsville. Singularly enough, it was at that place, just four years previously, I had entered the army, and there my career as a soldier ended. There Sheridan's men burned my law books and my trunk with my law license in it, where this document had lain securely and almost forgotten for four years. I am practicing law now without a license, so far as that goes, and recently in a West Virginia court, when asked for my license before qualifying, I had to plead the vandalism of Phil. Sheridan, as my excuse for not producing the license. Governor Smiths Entreaties. At Howardsville my young relative and I encountered Governor William Smith, venerable nomen. He had left Richmond before the enemy entered and was then stopping at the house of Mr. Zack Lewis. The old man came out to see us and expostulated with us on returning home. He begged us to turn back and go to Johnston, in North Carol
Raphael Semmes (search for this): chapter 1.29
re the centres of gaping and admiring crowds, only to sink into insignificance again, loaded with the scorn of women and the contempt of men, when the truth became known. So Manassas was fought and won, and, although I could fill a volume with reminiscences of other battles and marches which come teeming into my brain, I must pass on to the closing of the great drama. In the spring of 1865 the condition of the Confederacy may be aptly described by applying to it the touching words of Raphael Semmes, used in speaking of his good ship, the Alabama, just before the battle with the Kearsage. He says she was no longer the alert, swift, formidable greyhound of the seas, as when he first assumed command of her, but after her long and eventful cruise, during which she had been for the most part denied harbor privileges by neutral nations, she came limping back, her timbers riven and shaken by many a storm, to meet her superior at every point, save in the courage and devotion of her crew t
James H. Grant (search for this): chapter 1.29
s then the president of that institution, and that the old gentleman blamed General Grant for the death of his son, and never forgave him. He told my friend that his son was on the staff of a corps commander under General Grant, and being yery young, and ambitious of distinction, but, having had little opportunity to distinguishand his opportunities almost gone, this, perhaps, was his last, as he thought. Grant yielded, and gave it to him. The old gentleman said Grant well knew that in so Grant well knew that in so doing he was throwing his boy in the path of Lee's whole army, and that his chances of ever coming out alive were few; that as commanding officer, he should not have sacrificed the boy in that manner. He was very bitter towards Grant, says my friend. It was a sad day for this ambitious youth when he sought distinction by thrand he gravely lifted his hat in acknowledgment of our greeting. I believe, if Grant's whole army had been there then, they could not have reached or harmed that gr
Harmer Gilmer (search for this): chapter 1.29
lled in William McLaughlin (afterwards the commander of a battalion of light artillery in the Confederate army and now a circuit judge) as his assistant in teaching our class. Public meetings were held, and old Dr. George Junkin, of Washington College, with his squeaking voice, frequently addressed those meetings and managed to make his shrill shouts of Union, Union, heard above the cackling of the obstreperous students of the various institutions of learning in town. I remember young Harmer Gilmer, of Richmond, one of our law class, disconcerting one of the Union speakers very much by suddenly crying out, as the man reached one of his best periods, Come to my arms, you greasy fritter. I suppose Harmer caught the expression in some of the meetings of the sovereigns in Old Market Hall. The war cloud was now gathering thick and fast in the far South, and its distant mutterings grew ominous as the Virginia Convention assembled. We law students went to our homes, and, as the Court
R. C. L. Moncure (search for this): chapter 1.29
, and its distant mutterings grew ominous as the Virginia Convention assembled. We law students went to our homes, and, as the Court of Appeals was then in session in Richmond, I went there to get my license, appearing for examination before Judges Moncure, Robertson, and Daniel. I went first to Judge Moncure, and found him at Ford's Hotel. Truly in him I beheld a man without guile. One so simple and unpretending, so gentle and kind, and at the same time so great, we rarely meet. He took meJudge Moncure, and found him at Ford's Hotel. Truly in him I beheld a man without guile. One so simple and unpretending, so gentle and kind, and at the same time so great, we rarely meet. He took me into his private room, where his good wife, the very counterpart of himself in woman's attire, sat knitting. First this gentle couple put me at my ease by asking about my home and introducing some familiar topics, about which we chatted until I forgot what I came for. Gradually the old judge introduced the law into our conversation and drew out of me what little I knew about it—I almost imagining that I was imparting to the old gentlemen before me valuable information. I left him highly plea
Rosser (search for this): chapter 1.29
ead. I was not near enough to hear whether Scruggs demanded his surrender or not, but I am sure he evinced no intention of surrendering. I passed him as he lay gasping his last, and looked with pity into the dying face of the foeman, so brave. Here the gallant Colonel Boston was urging forward his men, and it was the last I ever saw of him alive, for presently they brought him out dead, a ball having entered his mouth and caused instant death. Some few years ago, in conversation with General Rosser, he told me that he also witnessed this duel between Breathed and his Federal antagonist. The next day we passed through Farmville, and in the evening halted at the coal pits in Cumberland county, where two roads crossed. The wagon trains were passing, and our cavalry was massed between them and the enemy, held in readiness, but not anticipating an attack. Our beloved old General was sitting beneath an old oak tree near the road, leaning against the trunk of the tree, when suddenly
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 ...