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Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 1. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), chapter 2.12 (search)
uiver of the lid. About noon of the day of his death, President Davis visited his bedside, and in reply to his question as to how he felt, the dying hero answered, Easy, but willing to die if God and my country think I have fulfilled my destiny and done my duty, showing that beneath the gay manners of the cavalier there was a deep, divine and religious sentiment that shone forth, illuminating the hero's character and giving dignity to the last moments of his life. Sing, said he to the Rev. Dr. Peterkin, the very worthy pastor of St. James church in this city, Rock of ages cleft for me, let me hide myself in Thee, and the fast sinking soldier joined in with all the strength his failing power permitted. He then prayed with the friends around, and with the words I am going fast now, I am resigned, God's will be done, the great, grand cavalry leader furled his battle-flag forever. Gentlemen, my object in all this is to bring you to the simple grave upon the hillside in beautiful Ho
Judith White McGuire, Diary of a southern refugee during the war, by a lady of Virginia, 1863. (search)
the better part of valour, and staid at home. The riot, it is ascertained, was not caused by want; it was no doubt set on foot by Union influences. I saw the Rev. Mr. Peterkin, who is perhaps more thoroughly acquainted with the state of the poor than any man in the city. He says that they are admirably attended to. Large sums of they sprang from the din of the battle-field to the peace of heaven! Lord, how long must we suffer such things? October 25th, 1863. To-day we heard the Rev. Mr. Peterkin, from the text: Be not weary in well-doing. It was a delightful sermon, persuasive and encouraging. Mr.-- spends Sunday morning always in the hospital. time we have lost many lives, which nothing can repay; but we hold our own, have had some victories, and have been upon the whole much blessed by God. At St. James's Church, this morning, and heard a very fine sermon from the Rev. Mr. Peterkin, from the text, Blessed are the poor in spirit. To-night we expect to hear Bishop Lay.
Judith White McGuire, Diary of a southern refugee during the war, by a lady of Virginia, 1864. (search)
near Newbern, North Carolina. I trust they are following up the Plymouth victory. Tuesday morning, may 3, 1864. Yesterday passed as usual. We attended Mr. Peterkin's prayer-meeting before breakfast, which we generally do, and which was very interesting. Then came by market for our daily supplies; and at nine I commenced 13, 1864. General Stuart died of his wounds last night, twenty-four hours after he was shot. He was a member of the Episcopal Church, and expressed to the Rev. Dr. Peterkin his resignation to the will of God. After much conversation with his friends and Dr. P., and joining them in a hymn which he requested should be sung, he situation, had hastened to thank him in the name of his country. I have but done my duty, was the soldier's reply. And near him was the minister of God, good Mr. Peterkin, of whose church (Episcopal) General S. was a member. He asked for his favourite hymn, and joined his feeble voice with the touching words: I would not live a
Judith White McGuire, Diary of a southern refugee during the war, by a lady of Virginia, 1865. (search)
When you get through with the men won't you come back and let me talk to ye? When I returned and took my seat by him, he looked earnestly in my face, and said : Mrs.--, you have an Irish name — have you friends there? No, my husband's grandfather was from Ireland, but we have no relatives there now. Yes, was his reply, it is a good name in Ireland, and you have been kind to me, and I want to talk to you a bit before I die. You know that I am a Protestant, and I have been constantly to Mr Peterkin's church since I came here, because I like the church, and I like him; and I hope that now I am prepared to die. But I was not brought up an Episcopalian in the old country-our house was divided, like. My father was a Catholic, and my mother was a Presbyterian; neither went to the church of the other, but they were a loving couple for all that. He said to her, when we were but wee things: Mary, said he, the children must go to your church sometimes, and to mine sometimes; you may teach
Varina Davis, Jefferson Davis: Ex-President of the Confederate States of America, A Memoir by his Wife, Volume 2, Chapter 51: Yellow Tavern.—Death of Stuart. (search)
rs. R. E. Lee, he directed his golden spurs to be given as a dying memento of his love and esteem for her husband. To his staff officers he gave his horses. So considerate was he in small things, even to his dying hour, that he said to one of his staff, who was a very heavily built man, You had better take the larger horse; he will carry you better. To his young son he left his glorious sword. His worldly matters closed, he turned to the contemplation of eternity, and asked the Reverend Mr. Peterkin, of the Episcopal Church, of which he was an exemplary member, to sing the hymn commencing, Rock of ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in thee, and joined with all the voice his strength permitted. He then united in prayer with the minister. To the doctor he again said, I am going fast now; God's will be done. Thus died General J. E. B. Stuart, the great cavalry leader and exemplary Christian, at peace with God and man. His wife reached the house of death about ten o'clo
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Documents and Narratives, Volume 9. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 86 (search)
t range guns should be made, if possible, to play upon the observed position of the enemy. An arrangement to this end had already been made, and two powerful rifle-pieces, under Captain Dabney, were on their way to the best place accessible, just below Mrs. Price's. At the house, near this latter position, I met the President, General Magruder, and other officers, and informed them of the fact thus noticed. Finding with the long-range guns too little ammunition, I despatched an Aid, Lieutenant Peterkin, to have hastened from Richmond a sufficient supply. The trust he discharged with exemplary energy. Meanwhile a sharp artillery contest was commenced between some of our batteries on Dr. Garnett's field, and those of the enemy behind their breastworks, bringing numerous shells about our position. This contest was most gallantly waged on our side, under the general direction of Lieutenant-Colonel S. D. Lee, and participated in with great spirit by Captains Lane and Woolfolk, and by
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 7. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), The death of Major-General J. E. B. Stuart. (search)
relative, on Grace street, in the presence of Drs. Brewer, Garnett, Gibson, and Fontaine, of the General's staff, Rev. Messrs. Peterkin and Kepler, and a circle of sorrow-stricken comrades and friends. We learn from the physicians in attendance uhis glorious sword. His worldly matters closed, the eternal interest of his soul engaged his mind. Turning to the Rev. Mr. Peterkin, of the Episcopal Church, and of which he was an exemplary member, he asked him to sing the hymn commencing-- Stuart, were conducted yesterday afternoon in Saint James' Episcopal Church, corner of Marshall and Fifth streets--Rev. Dr. Peterkin, rector. The cortege reached the church about five o'clock, without music or military escort, the Public Guard beind military officials in Richmond. A portion of the funeral services according to the Episcopal church was read by Rev. Dr. Peterkin, assisted by other ministers, concluding with singing and prayer. The body was then borne forth to the hearse in
Edward Alfred Pollard, The lost cause; a new Southern history of the War of the Confederates ... Drawn from official sources and approved by the most distinguished Confederate leaders., Chapter 31: (search)
he golden spurs be given as a dying memento of his love and esteem for her husband. To his staff officers he gave his horses; and other mementoes he disposed of in a similar manner. To his young son he left his sword. He then turned to the Rev. Dr. Peterkin, of the Episcopal Church, of which he was a strict member, and asked him to sing the hymn commencing: Rock of ages cleft for me, Let me hide myself in thee. In this he joined with all the strength of voice his failing powers permiart had so often led where the red battle was fiercest, and who would have given their lives for his, were away in the fight, doubtless striking with a double courage as they thought of their fallen general. The short service was read by Rev. Dr. Peterkin, a funeral anthem sung, and the remains were carried out and placed in the hearse, which proceeded to Hollywood Cemetery, followed by a long train of carriages. No military escort accompanied the procession, but the hero was laid in his
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Women and Men, chapter 8 (search)
instantly. Sometimes there is an especial maiden aunt to whom a whole town turns, as in James T. Fields's story, where the country boy who had fallen into a well, and whom the collected ladders and ropes of the neighborhood could not extract, was heard shouting from the depths of the earth, Why don't you send for Miss Kent, you fools? The arrival of Miss Kent set everything working smoothly; and so it always is when maiden aunts arrive. The lady from Philadelphia, in Miss Lucretia Hale's Peterkin stories, who always got that luckless family out of all perplexities, was unquestionably a maiden aunt. The party stranded in mid-air, in Howells's Elevator, would undoubtedly have been rescued by a maiden aunt had not the author-with his well-known severity towards women-shut up his aunt Mary in the elevator itself, where she could only request her silly niece not to be a goose. Even in this, we perceive, is the utility of maiden aunts vindicated. It might seem, as we look around at
Cambridge History of American Literature: volume 2 (ed. Trent, William Peterfield, 1862-1939., Erskine, John, 1879-1951., Sherman, Stuart Pratt, 1881-1926., Van Doren, Carl, 1885-1950.), Chapter 7: books for children (search)
The wise humorous style of his fanciful tales and their grotesque droll material make them exceptional. Howard Pyle also did work of distinction in this field, much assisted by his eccentric illustrations; and his Robin Hood (1883) is capital romance. In nonsense books, the imitators of Lewis Carroll and Edward Lear were many in the last years of the century; but the best of them, Charles Carryl in Davy and the Goblin (1885), only invite comparison. Somewhat earlier, Lucretia P. Hale in Peterkin papers (1882) created a new form of nonsense of a more literal sort; and this for spontaneous fun and clever foolishness is remarkable. Fairy tales seem to have no foothold in America—the stories in verse of Palmer Cox, the Brownie books, being perhaps the sole instance the century afforded of nation-wide popularity (and these owing more to the author's illustrations than to the text). For this condition publishers may be somewhat responsible, as they can sufficiently supply the market wit
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