Browsing named entities in Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 26. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones). You can also browse the collection for John Rogers or search for John Rogers in all documents.

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Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 26. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), War Diary of Capt. Robert Emory Park, Twelfth Alabama Regiment. January 28th, 1863—January 27th, 1864. (search)
pany, preached an excellent sermon on 8th verse, 2nd chapter of Ephesians. Private Rogers, of my company, preached in the afternoon. I have both a Methodist and a Bwenty-four hours. Castle Thunder was the countersign at night. May 22. Lieutenant Rogers, of company E relieved me from duty, and punished as absent without leavent to our gallant Colonel R. F. Jones, killed at the battle of Seven Pines. Private Rogers, of my company preached at night. May 24. A warm Sabbath. Heard Rev. Den. Have spent to-day very differently and peacefully. Heard Dr. Hoge and Mr. Rogers preach. June I, 1863. As officer of the day spent much time having camp pe we halted on a hilly woods. We passed the woods and a wheat field, where Private Rogers, our Baptist preacher, had his knee shattered by a minie ball. We continue Co. A, were promoted Captain and First Lieutenant of said company, and Lieutenant John Rogers, of Co. E, promoted Captain. At 3 P. M. we were ordered to pack up, an
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 26. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), William Henry Chase Whiting, Major-General C. S. Army. (search)
ions, institutions change—the rich and the poor exchange places—animated nature bows to decay and passes in turn to oblivion! But the ashes of the noble dead remain in mother earth, and the memory of their deeds hallows the soil. Think you that the valor of George B. Anderson is lost, the gallantry of L. O'B. Branch, the calm and intrepid patriotism of the host of lesser rank that lie beside them in either of our cities of the dead—Burgwyn, and Turner, and Shotwell; the Haywoods, Manlys, Rogers, Engelhard; the knightly Smedes, the great—hearted William E. Anderson—ah! where shall I pause in the bead-roll of heroes; how dare we not include every private, who bore his musket well, in that great brigade that lie in eternal bivouac on our eastern slopes, awaiting the trump of the resurrection morn? Tried by the standard of devotion to duty, and sublime selfsacri-fice, the men whom your fair women delight to honor were worthy of the highest niche in the temple of military fame—