Browsing named entities in Harper's Encyclopedia of United States History (ed. Benson Lossing). You can also browse the collection for John Caldwell or search for John Caldwell in all documents.

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Harper's Encyclopedia of United States History (ed. Benson Lossing), Calendar. (search)
Calendar. Our present calendar is the creation of Julius Caesar, based on a slight error which in the course of 1,600 years amounted to ten days. Pope Gregory XIII. rectified the calendar in 1582. The Gregorian calendar was accepted ultimately by all civilized nations, with the exception of Russia, which still continues the use of the Julian Calendar. Calhoun, John Caldwell
Harper's Encyclopedia of United States History (ed. Benson Lossing), Calhoun, John Caldwell 1782-1850 (search)
Calhoun, John Caldwell 1782-1850 Statesman; born in Abbeville District, S. C., March 18, 1782. His father was a native of Ireland; his mother, formerly Miss Caldwell, was of Scotch-Irish descent. The son was graduated, with all the honors, at Yale College, in 1804, and studied law in the famous law-school in Litchfield, Conn. In 1807 he began the practice of the profession in his native district. Thoughtful, ardent, and persevering, he soon took high rank in his profession, and gained a very lucrative practice. Fond of politics, he early entered its arena, and in 1808-10 was a member of the State legislature. He was sent to Congress in 1811, where he remained, by successive elections, until 1817. Mr. Calhoun was very influential in pressing Madison to make a declaration of war with Great Britain in 1812. President Monroe called him to his cabinet as Secretary of War (Dec. 16, 1817), and he served as such during the President's double term of office. In 1824 he was chosen Vi
Harper's Encyclopedia of United States History (ed. Benson Lossing), Cow Chace, the (search)
rror in the van Came flying all abroad, And cannon, colors, horse, and man Ran tumbling to the road.Still as he fled, 'twas Irvine's cry, And his example too, “Run on, my merry men all—for why?” The shot will not go through. *As when two kennels in the street, Swell'd with a recent rain, In gushing streams together meet, And seek the neighboring drain,So meet these dung-born tribes in one, As swift in their career, And so to New Bridge they ran on— But all the cows got clear.Poor Parson Caldwell, all in wonder, Saw the returning train, And mourned to Wayne the lack of plunder, For them to steal again.For 'twas his right to seize the spoil, and To share with each commander, As he had done at Staten Island With frost-bit Alexander.In his dismay, the frantic priest Began to grow prophetic, You had swore, to see his lab'ring breast, He'd taken an emetic. “I view a future day,” said he, “Brighter than this day dark is, And you shall see, what you shall see, Ha! ha! one pretty
Harper's Encyclopedia of United States History (ed. Benson Lossing), Garfield, James Abram 1831-1881 (search)
miles west of the western line of Pennsylvania and parallel with it. This tract of country was about the size of the present State, and was called New Connecticut. In May, 1792, the legislature of Connecticut granted to those of her citizens whose property had been burned or otherwise spoliated by the British during the war of the Revolution half a million of acres from the west end of the reserve. These were called The fire lands. On Sept. 5, 1795, Connecticut executed a deed to John Caldwell, Jonathan Brace, and John Morgan, trustees for the Connecticut Land Company, for 3,000,000 acres of reserve lying west of Pennsylvania, for $1,200,000, or at the rate of 40 cents per acre. The State gave only a quit-claim deed, transferring only such title as she possessed, and leaving all the remaining Indian titles to the reserve to be extinguished by the purchasers themselves. With the exception of a few hundred acres previously sold in the neighborhood of the Salt Spring tract on t
Harper's Encyclopedia of United States History (ed. Benson Lossing), Hancock, John 1737- (search)
well as you who executed the inhuman deed! Do you not feel the goads and stings of conscious guilt pierce through your savage bosom? Though some of you may think yourselves exalted to a height that bids defiance to human justice, and others shroud yourselves beneath the mask of hypocrisy, and build your hopes of safety on the low arts of cunning, chicanery and falsehood; yet do you not sometimes feel the gnawing of that worm which never dies? Do not the injured shades of Maverick, Gray, Caldwell, Attucks and Carr attend you in your solitary walks, arrest you even in the midst of your debaucheries, and fill even your dreams with terror? But if the unappeased manes of the dead should not disturb their murderers, yet surely even your obdurate hearts must shrink, and your guilty blood must chill within your rigid veins, when you behold the miserable Monk, the wretched victim of your savage cruelty. Observe his tottering knees, which scarce sustain his wasted body; look in his haggard