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 descending order. Sort in ascending order.

hide Most Frequent Entities

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

Entity Max. Freq Min. Freq
Hardeman Stuart 412 0 Browse Search
J. E. B. Stuart 370 0 Browse Search
Stonewall Jackson 293 3 Browse Search
Fitz Lee 279 23 Browse Search
Virginia (Virginia, United States) 172 0 Browse Search
Jeb Stuart 154 4 Browse Search
Jack Mosby 150 0 Browse Search
Manassas, Va. (Virginia, United States) 128 0 Browse Search
Richmond (Virginia, United States) 124 0 Browse Search
Beauregard 110 16 Browse Search
View all entities in this document...

Browsing named entities in a specific section of John Esten Cooke, Wearing of the Gray: Being Personal Portraits, Scenes, and Adventures of War.. Search the whole document.

Found 122 total hits in 25 results.

1 2 3
Williamsburg (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 3.36
ind them they left fire and destruction; a scene in which a species of barbaric and disgusting splendour seemed to culminate. Strange moment for my first visit to the White House! to a spot which I had seen often in fancy, but never before with the mortal eye. For this place was one of those historic localities where the forms and voices of the mighty men of old appeared still to linger. Here young Colonel Washington, after that bloody march of Braddock, had paused on his journey to Williamsburg to accept the hospitalities of John Parke Custis. Here he had spent hour after hour conversing with the fair young widow who was to become Mrs. Washington, while his astonished body-servant held the bridle for him to mount; here he had been married; here were spent many happy days of a great life — a century at least before the spot saluted my gaze! In this old locality some of the noblest and fairest forms that eye ever beheld had lived their lives in the dead years. Here gay voic
Bordeaux (France) (search for this): chapter 3.36
on of rebels, and the triumph of their faction. Here were newspapers fixing exactly the date of General McClellan's entrance into Richmond; with leading editorials so horrible in their threatenings, that the writers must have composed them in the most comfortable sanctums, far away from the brutal and disturbing clash of arms. For the rest, there was a chaos of vials, medicines, boxes, half-burnt lemons; and hundreds of empty bottles, bearing the labels, Chateau Margot, Lafitte, Clicquot, Bordeaux, and many othersthe very sight of which spolia of M. S. nearly drove the hungry and thirsty Confederates to madness! It was a sombre and frightful spot. Infection and contagion seemed to dwell there — for who could tell what diseases had afflicted the occupants of these beds? No article was touched by the troops; fine coloured blankets, variegated shirts, ornamental caps, and handkerchiefs, and shawls, remained undisturbed. One object, however, tempted me; and, dismounting, I picked
Washington (United States) (search for this): chapter 3.36
t of masquerade of ruffles and silk stockings, furbelows and flounces, and lace and embroidery, and powder and diamonds, was played still in the eyes of fancy! The White House had been to the present writer an honest old Virginia mansion of colonial days, full of warm hearts, and kindness and hospitality, where bright eyes outshone the gloss of satin and glimmer of pearls; where the winding river flowed amid blooming fields, beneath lofty trees, and the suns of earlier years shone down on Washington and his bride. Again, as at the White House-quantum mutatus ab illo! Let me outline the objects that met my view as I galloped up the avenue, between the great trees which had seen pass beneath them the chariots of other generations. The house, like Roslyn, was a ruin still smouldering. No traces of it were left but overthrown walls, bricks calcined and shattered, and charred timbers still sending up lurid smoke. The grounds were the picture of desolation; the flower-beds, once
John Pelham (search for this): chapter 3.36
y, which he had abandoned when deciding upon the James river line of retreat-change of base, if you prefer the phrase, reader --and to the White House General Stuart had hurried to prevent if possible the destruction of the stores. He was too late. The officer in charge of the great depot had applied the torch to all, and retreated; and when the cavalry arrived, nothing was visible but a black-hulled gunboat which slunk away down the stream, chased by the shots of the Horse Artillery under Pelham. Behind them they left fire and destruction; a scene in which a species of barbaric and disgusting splendour seemed to culminate. Strange moment for my first visit to the White House! to a spot which I had seen often in fancy, but never before with the mortal eye. For this place was one of those historic localities where the forms and voices of the mighty men of old appeared still to linger. Here young Colonel Washington, after that bloody march of Braddock, had paused on his journey
John Parke Custis (search for this): chapter 3.36
e in which a species of barbaric and disgusting splendour seemed to culminate. Strange moment for my first visit to the White House! to a spot which I had seen often in fancy, but never before with the mortal eye. For this place was one of those historic localities where the forms and voices of the mighty men of old appeared still to linger. Here young Colonel Washington, after that bloody march of Braddock, had paused on his journey to Williamsburg to accept the hospitalities of John Parke Custis. Here he had spent hour after hour conversing with the fair young widow who was to become Mrs. Washington, while his astonished body-servant held the bridle for him to mount; here he had been married; here were spent many happy days of a great life — a century at least before the spot saluted my gaze! In this old locality some of the noblest and fairest forms that eye ever beheld had lived their lives in the dead years. Here gay voices had echoed, bright eyes had shone; here a s
Moses (search for this): chapter 3.36
escribe it. Stench, glare, insufferable heat, and dense, foul, lurid smoke — there was the general impression. A city had been laid out here, and this was now in flames. Jews, pedlers, hucksters, and army followers of every description, had thronged here; had worked like beavers, hammering up long rows of shanties and sutlers' shops; had covered the plain with a cloud of tents; and every steamer from New York had brought something to spread upon the improvised counters of the rising city. Moses and Levi and Abraham had rushed in with their highly superior stock of goods, going off at an enormous sacrifice; Jonathan and Slick had supplied the best quality of wooden hams and nutmegs; Dauerflinger and Sauerkraut had brought the best malt liquors and lager, with brandy and whiskey and gin under the rose. In a few weeks a metropolis of sutlerdom had thus sprung up like a mushroom; and a whole host of pedlers and hucksters had scratched and burrowed, and made themselves nests like Norwa
McClellan (search for this): chapter 3.36
Federal generals; then it was used as a hospital. Why it was burned I know not; whether to destroy, in accordance with McClellan's order, all medical and other stores which could not be removed, or from wanton barbarity, it is impossible to say. I riends of the melancholy hero visitor to Locksley Hall, and I was soon en route again for the White House. This was McClellan's great depot of stores on the Pamunkey, which he had abandoned when deciding upon the James river line of retreat-changs of the destruction of rebels, and the triumph of their faction. Here were newspapers fixing exactly the date of General McClellan's entrance into Richmond; with leading editorials so horrible in their threatenings, that the writers must have comne at the White House on that June day of 1862; in this black cloud went down the star of the enemy's greatest soldier, McClellan. A great triumph for the Confederates followed that furious clash of arms on the Chickahominy; but alas! when the smo
Braddock (search for this): chapter 3.36
of the Horse Artillery under Pelham. Behind them they left fire and destruction; a scene in which a species of barbaric and disgusting splendour seemed to culminate. Strange moment for my first visit to the White House! to a spot which I had seen often in fancy, but never before with the mortal eye. For this place was one of those historic localities where the forms and voices of the mighty men of old appeared still to linger. Here young Colonel Washington, after that bloody march of Braddock, had paused on his journey to Williamsburg to accept the hospitalities of John Parke Custis. Here he had spent hour after hour conversing with the fair young widow who was to become Mrs. Washington, while his astonished body-servant held the bridle for him to mount; here he had been married; here were spent many happy days of a great life — a century at least before the spot saluted my gaze! In this old locality some of the noblest and fairest forms that eye ever beheld had lived thei
Jeb Stuart (search for this): chapter 3.36
, summoning him again to action. I had no time to dream over the faded glories, the dead splendour of Roslyn; those merry comrades whereof I spoke called to me, as did the friends of the melancholy hero visitor to Locksley Hall, and I was soon en route again for the White House. This was McClellan's great depot of stores on the Pamunkey, which he had abandoned when deciding upon the James river line of retreat-change of base, if you prefer the phrase, reader --and to the White House General Stuart had hurried to prevent if possible the destruction of the stores. He was too late. The officer in charge of the great depot had applied the torch to all, and retreated; and when the cavalry arrived, nothing was visible but a black-hulled gunboat which slunk away down the stream, chased by the shots of the Horse Artillery under Pelham. Behind them they left fire and destruction; a scene in which a species of barbaric and disgusting splendour seemed to culminate. Strange moment for
Lafitte (search for this): chapter 3.36
gs of the destruction of rebels, and the triumph of their faction. Here were newspapers fixing exactly the date of General McClellan's entrance into Richmond; with leading editorials so horrible in their threatenings, that the writers must have composed them in the most comfortable sanctums, far away from the brutal and disturbing clash of arms. For the rest, there was a chaos of vials, medicines, boxes, half-burnt lemons; and hundreds of empty bottles, bearing the labels, Chateau Margot, Lafitte, Clicquot, Bordeaux, and many othersthe very sight of which spolia of M. S. nearly drove the hungry and thirsty Confederates to madness! It was a sombre and frightful spot. Infection and contagion seemed to dwell there — for who could tell what diseases had afflicted the occupants of these beds? No article was touched by the troops; fine coloured blankets, variegated shirts, ornamental caps, and handkerchiefs, and shawls, remained undisturbed. One object, however, tempted me; and, di
1 2 3