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William Schouler, A history of Massachusetts in the Civil War: Volume 1 4 0 Browse Search
The Daily Dispatch: March 20, 1861., [Electronic resource] 3 1 Browse Search
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Browsing named entities in William Schouler, A history of Massachusetts in the Civil War: Volume 1. You can also browse the collection for H. Fuller or search for H. Fuller in all documents.

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William Schouler, A history of Massachusetts in the Civil War: Volume 1, Chapter 1: (search)
mith in Salem, who removed to Windham, where he died. His son Jonathan was born in Salem, and lived there until manhood, when he also removed to Windham. There he married Miss Nancy G. Pierce, formerly preceptress of Fryeburg Academy, where Daniel Webster was once a teacher. These were the parents of Governor Andrew. At an early age, he entered Bowdoin College, from which he graduated in the class of 1837. He then removed to Boston, and entered, as a law student, the office of Henry H. Fuller, Esq. Being admitted to the Suffolk Bar in 1840, he commenced the practice of his profession, and adhered to it without interruption until his election as Governor in 1860, establishing in later years a reputation as an advocate second to no lawyer at that distinguished bar since the death of Rufus Choate. Attractive in personal appearance and bearing, with an excellent flow of language and variety of expression, and possessed of that sympathetic disposition which identifies an advocate i
William Schouler, A history of Massachusetts in the Civil War: Volume 1, Chapter 11: (search)
ebel picket line, but failed. We now quote from his narrative:— So, when I found it was no use to get over that way, I concluded to try another. Uncle lent me his axe and knife, and I cut a lot of rushes, and a tough oak-tree for splints, and went to work in the woods, and made this basket: it took me two days to weave it, after the stuff was all ready; the pitch I got by cutting into a tree, and catching the gum, which I boiled in a kettle of my sister's. The old shutter came from Dr. Fuller's house. It was three miles to the water, and I carried the basket alone on my head in the dark night, for fear of the pickets. It was so late in the night when I got all ready to start in the creek, that I did not get down to the coosa till day clear; so I landed on a little hammock close by the mouth of the creek, and hid the boat and myself for another day. But before nine oa clock, the next night, I put out and paddled over to Port Royal, too glad to get away. The Yankee picket was