Browsing named entities in Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 8. (ed. Frank Moore). You can also browse the collection for Gettysburgh (Pennsylvania, United States) or search for Gettysburgh (Pennsylvania, United States) in all documents.

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Jenny Wade, the heroine of Gettysburgh.--The country has already heard of John Burns, the hero of Gettysburgh: of how the old man sallied fGettysburgh: of how the old man sallied forth, a host within himself, to fight on his own hook, and how he fell wounded after having delivered many shots from his trusty rifle into tr and an emulator. But there was a heroine as well as a hero of Gettysburgh. The old hero, Burns, still lives; the heroine, sweet Jenny Wadr country's enemy. The incidents of the heroine and the hero of Gettysburgh are beautifully touching, noble, and sublime. Old John Burns was the only man of Gettysburgh who participated in the struggle to save the North from invasion, while innocent Jenny Wade was the only sacrer, before which the pilgrims to the holy tombs of the heroes of Gettysburgh can bow and bless the memory of Jenny Wade. If the people of GeGettysburgh are not able alone to raise the funds to pay for a suitable monument for Jenny Wade, let them send a committee to Harrisburgh, and
untain-side with Banks, In the burning sun no more lie wore The blue great-coat, etc. Perhaps in the swamps was a bed for his form, From the seven days battling and marching sore, Or with Kearny and Pope 'mid the steelly storm, As the night closed in, that coat he wore. The blue great-coat, etc. Or when right over, as Jackson dashed, That collar or cape some bullet tore; Or when far ahead Antietam flashed, He flung to the ground the coat that he wore. The blue great-coat, etc. Or stood at Gettysburgh, where the graves Rang deep to Howard's cannon roar; Or saw with Grautt the unchained waves Where conquering hosts the blue coat wore. The blue great-coat, etc. That garb of honor tells enough, Though [ its story guess no more; The heart it covers is made of such stuff, That coat is mail which that soldier wore. The blue great-coat, etc. He may hang it up when the peace shall come, And the moths may find it behind the door; But his children will point, when they hear a drum, To the proud
the house was hushed and the hill-side lone. But oh! to feel my boys were foes Was more than loss or battle's steel! In every shifting cloud that rose I saw their hostile squadrons wheel; And heard in the waves as they hurried by, Their hasty tread when the fight was nigh, And, deep in the wail which the night-winds bore, Their dying moan when the fight was o'er. So time went on. The skies were blue; Our wheat-fields yellow in the sun; When down the vale a rider flew: “Ho! neighbors, Gettysburgh is won! Horse and foot, at the cannon's mouth We hurled them back to the hungry South; The North is safe, and the vile marauder Curses the hour he crossed the border.” My boys were there! I nearer pressed-- “And Philip, Courtney, what of them?” His voice dropped low: “O madam! rest Falls sweet when battle's tide we stem: Your Philip was first of the brave that day With his colors grasped as in death he lay: And Courtney-well, I only knew Not a man was left of his rebel crew” . .