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Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 2. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), General J. E. B. Stuart's report of operations after Gettysburg. (search)
e, my Inspector-General, and Lieutenant Ryals, C. S. A., Provost-Marshal, deserve my special gratitude and praise. The same qualities, united to a thorough knowledge of much of the country, are ascribable to Captain B. S. White, C. S. A., who, though still suffering from a severe wound received at Fleetwood, accompanied the command, and his services proclaim him an officer of merit and distinction. Chief Surgeon Eliason, Captain Blackford, Engineer; Captain Cooke, Ordnance Officer; Lieutenant Dabney, A. D. C., and Cadet Hulliher, C. S. A., all performed their duties with commendable zeal and credit. Major Fitzhugh, Chief, and Captain J. N. Hanger, Assistant Quartermaster, and Major W. J. Johnson, Chief Commissary, discharged their arduous duties in their usually highly satisfactory manner. First Lieutenant R. B. Kennon, P. A. C. S., temporarily attached on two different occasions, was entrusted with duties attended with great peril, which he performed in a highly successful an
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 2. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), chapter 6.34 (search)
any stepped forward and saluted: Mort sur le champ de bataille--dead upon the field of battle. Such monument, such epitaph, at least, is that of A. P. Hill, and the men of his old corps remember with sorrowful pride that his name lingered last upon the dying lips of Lee and of Jackson. Tell Hill he must come up. --Colonel Wm. Preston Johnston's account of Lee's last moments--Rev. J. Wm. Jones' Personal Reminiscences of General R. E. Lee, p. 451. A. P. Hill, prepare for action. --Dabney's Life of Jackson, p. 719. Of the other, who fell but the evening before at Five Forks, I almost fear to speak, lest I should do hurt to that memory which I would honor. For to those who knew him not, the simplest outline of a character so finely tempered by stern and gentle virtues, would seem but an ideal picture touched with the tender exaggeration of retrospective grief; while to so many of you who knew him as he was — the gentle comrade and the brilliant fighter — any portrait must