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William Boynton, Sherman's Historical Raid 2 0 Browse Search
Col. John M. Harrell, Confederate Military History, a library of Confederate States Military History: Volume 10.2, Arkansas (ed. Clement Anselm Evans) 2 0 Browse Search
The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 3. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier) 2 0 Browse Search
Harper's Encyclopedia of United States History (ed. Benson Lossing) 1 1 Browse Search
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William Boynton, Sherman's Historical Raid, Chapter 11: (search)
will depend upon the reenforcements that can be spared for this command? Ed. R. Canby, Major-General. Kingston, Georgia, November 7, 1864. General Canby, New Orleans. Beauregard has left Georgia altogether and shifted across to the neighborhood of Florence, Alabama, threatening to invade Tennessee. We are all ready for him there, and I have still an army with which to go on. If you hear I have destroyed Atlanta and marched south, be prepared with boats to send me supplies from Ponchartrain, and have the navy look out for my fires and rocket signals along the east side of Mobile Bay, as high up as Old Blakely. W. T. Sherman, Major-General. The last letter written by General Sherman to General Grant before cutting loose from Atlanta, was dated November 6th. It is referred to in the Memoirs, but not quoted. It contains the following significant passages: The only question in my mind is whether I ought not to have dogged him [Hood] far over into Mississippi, * * *
Harper's Encyclopedia of United States History (ed. Benson Lossing), Talon, Pierre 1650- (search)
Talon, Pierre 1650- Explorer; born in Canada after 1650; was with the La Salle expedition to Illinois in 1687. After the murder of La Salle he lived for a time with the Cenis Indians. Later he became an interpreter to Franciscan missionaries who had arrived at the village. Subsequently he went, with a sister and two brothers, to Mexico. He wrote an account of La Salle's death in a work entitled Narrative of Pierre and Jean talon, by the order of Count Ponchartrain, to their arrival at Vera Cruz, Sept. 14, 1698. He died after 1700.
Col. John M. Harrell, Confederate Military History, a library of Confederate States Military History: Volume 10.2, Arkansas (ed. Clement Anselm Evans), Chapter 5: (search)
wounded and 8 missing. That of the enemy was over 200. On the Mound City alone, 180 perished. Captain Fry, the last to retreat, was severely wounded and made a prisoner. A short time before this battle, Col. Allison Nelson arrived at Little Rock with an excellent Texas regiment, but could not advance to St. Charles until too late. Being apprised of the loss of that post when within 15 miles of it, he returned to Devall's Bluff and fortified that place, putting three heavy guns from Ponchartrain in position, and obstructing the river. A regiment and battalion of Arkansas infantry, fresh troops, armed with shotguns, sporting rifles, pikes and lances, joined Colonel Nelson, and were brigaded under him. Meanwhile, Fitch was joined on the 17th and 18th by an additional gunboat, and six transports carrying troops, increasing his land forces to about 4,000 men. Made cautious by the resistance met at St. Charles, he moved very slowly up stream, fired upon from the banks by Confedera
The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 3. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier), Anti-Slavery Poems (search)
spires sanctify the air Of the calm Sabbath, with their sign of prayer. Like sudden nightfall over bloom and green The curtain dropped: and, momently, between The clank of fetter and the crack of thong, Half sob, half laughter, music swept along; A strange refrain, whose idle words and low, Like drunken mourners, kept the time of woe; As if the revellers at a masquerade Heard in the distance funeral marches played. Such music, dashing all his smiles with tears, The thoughtful voyager on Ponchartrain hears, Where, through the noonday dusk of wooded shores The negro boatman, singing to his oars, With a wild pathos borrowed of his wrong Redeems the jargon of his senseless song. ‘Look,’ said the Showman, sternly, as he rolled His curtain upward. ‘Fate's reverse behold!’ A village straggling in loose disarray Of vulgar newness, premature decay; A tavern, crazy with its whiskey brawls, With ‘Slaves at Auction!’ garnishing its walls; Without, surrounded by a motley crowd, The shrewd-e