hide Sorting

You can sort these results in two ways:

By entity
Chronological order for dates, alphabetical order for places and people.
By position (current method)
As the entities appear in the document.

You are currently sorting in ascending order. Sort in descending order.

hide Most Frequent Entities

The entities that appear most frequently in this document are shown below.

Entity Max. Freq Min. Freq
Washington (United States) 145 1 Browse Search
Maryland (Maryland, United States) 122 0 Browse Search
Jefferson Davis 106 0 Browse Search
United States (United States) 96 0 Browse Search
Winfield Scott 66 0 Browse Search
Toutan Beauregard 64 2 Browse Search
Bull Run, Va. (Virginia, United States) 62 0 Browse Search
Baltimore, Md. (Maryland, United States) 56 0 Browse Search
Abe Lincoln 40 0 Browse Search
Johnston 38 8 Browse Search
View all entities in this document...

Browsing named entities in Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 2. (ed. Frank Moore).

Found 4,440 total hits in 1,854 results.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 ...
H. R. Tracy (search for this): chapter 7
7. the civilians at Bull Run. by H. R. Tracy. Have you heard of the story, so lacking in glory, About the civilians who went to the fight? With every thing handy, from sandwich to brandy, To fill their broad stomachs, and make them all tight. There were bulls from our State street, and cattle from Wall street, And members of Congress to see the great fun; Newspaper reporters, (some regular snorters,) On a beautiful Sunday went to Bull Run. Provided with passes as far as Manassas, The portly civilians rode jolly along; Till the sound of the battle, the roar and the rattle Of cannon and musket drowned laughter and song. Their hearts were all willing to witness the killing, When the jolly civilians had chosen their ground; They drank and they nibbled — reporters they scribbled, While shot from the cannon were flying around. But nearer the rattle and storm of the battle Approached the civilians who came to a show, The terrible thunder filled them with wonder And trembling, and q
Bull Run, Va. (Virginia, United States) (search for this): chapter 7
7. the civilians at Bull Run. by H. R. Tracy. Have you heard of the story, so lacking in glory, About the civilians who went to the fight? With every thing handy, from sandwich to brandy, To fill their broad stomachs, and make them all tight. nd members of Congress to see the great fun; Newspaper reporters, (some regular snorters,) On a beautiful Sunday went to Bull Run. Provided with passes as far as Manassas, The portly civilians rode jolly along; Till the sound of the battle, the roarasure and ruined their fun; There was terrible slaughter — blood ran like water, When civilians were pic-nicking down at Bull Run. Their forms aldermanic are shaken with panic, When the “Black Horse” sweep down like a cloud on the plain; They run hes cry out at the sound of each gun; No longer they're frisky with brandy and whiskey, No longer they seek for a fight at Bull Run! Did they come down there balmy, to stampede the army? It would seem so, for how like a Jehu they drive! O'er the dead <
August 3rd (search for this): chapter 9
9. hymn for the host in war. C. M. Christmas, (Handel's,) or any other solemn and stirring common Metre tune. by the Author of the New priest. With banners fluttering forth on high, And music's stirring breath, Lord God! we stand beneath Thine eye, Arrayed for work of death. When we our stormy battle wage, Thy Spirit be our zeal! In conquering, teach us not man's rage, But Thine own truth to feel. Thy Christ led forth no host to fight, And he disbanded none; But our true life, and our best right, By death alone He won. Dear Lord! if we our lives must give, And give our share of earth, To save, for those that after live, What makes our land's true worth, Lead Thou our march to war's worst lot, As to a peace-time feast; Grant, only, that our souls be not Without Christ's life released! O God of heaven's most glorious host! To Thee this hymn we raise; To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, One God, one voice of praise! --Boston Transcript, Aug. 3.
ering forth on high, And music's stirring breath, Lord God! we stand beneath Thine eye, Arrayed for work of death. When we our stormy battle wage, Thy Spirit be our zeal! In conquering, teach us not man's rage, But Thine own truth to feel. Thy Christ led forth no host to fight, And he disbanded none; But our true life, and our best right, By death alone He won. Dear Lord! if we our lives must give, And give our share of earth, To save, for those that after live, What makes our land's true wnone; But our true life, and our best right, By death alone He won. Dear Lord! if we our lives must give, And give our share of earth, To save, for those that after live, What makes our land's true worth, Lead Thou our march to war's worst lot, As to a peace-time feast; Grant, only, that our souls be not Without Christ's life released! O God of heaven's most glorious host! To Thee this hymn we raise; To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, One God, one voice of praise! --Boston Transcript, Aug. 3.
Christmas (search for this): chapter 9
9. hymn for the host in war. C. M. Christmas, (Handel's,) or any other solemn and stirring common Metre tune. by the Author of the New priest. With banners fluttering forth on high, And music's stirring breath, Lord God! we stand beneath Thine eye, Arrayed for work of death. When we our stormy battle wage, Thy Spirit be our zeal! In conquering, teach us not man's rage, But Thine own truth to feel. Thy Christ led forth no host to fight, And he disbanded none; But our true life, and our best right, By death alone He won. Dear Lord! if we our lives must give, And give our share of earth, To save, for those that after live, What makes our land's true worth, Lead Thou our march to war's worst lot, As to a peace-time feast; Grant, only, that our souls be not Without Christ's life released! O God of heaven's most glorious host! To Thee this hymn we raise; To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, One God, one voice of praise! --Boston Transcript, Aug. 3.
9. hymn for the host in war. C. M. Christmas, (Handel's,) or any other solemn and stirring common Metre tune. by the Author of the New priest. With banners fluttering forth on high, And music's stirring breath, Lord God! we stand beneath Thine eye, Arrayed for work of death. When we our stormy battle wage, Thy Spirit be our zeal! In conquering, teach us not man's rage, But Thine own truth to feel. Thy Christ led forth no host to fight, And he disbanded none; But our true life, and our best right, By death alone He won. Dear Lord! if we our lives must give, And give our share of earth, To save, for those that after live, What makes our land's true worth, Lead Thou our march to war's worst lot, As to a peace-time feast; Grant, only, that our souls be not Without Christ's life released! O God of heaven's most glorious host! To Thee this hymn we raise; To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, One God, one voice of praise! --Boston Transcript, Aug. 3.
9. hymn for the host in war. C. M. Christmas, (Handel's,) or any other solemn and stirring common Metre tune. by the Author of the New priest. With banners fluttering forth on high, And music's stirring breath, Lord God! we stand beneath Thine eye, Arrayed for work of death. When we our stormy battle wage, Thy Spirit be our zeal! In conquering, teach us not man's rage, But Thine own truth to feel. Thy Christ led forth no host to fight, And he disbanded none; But our true life, and our best right, By death alone He won. Dear Lord! if we our lives must give, And give our share of earth, To save, for those that after live, What makes our land's true worth, Lead Thou our march to war's worst lot, As to a peace-time feast; Grant, only, that our souls be not Without Christ's life released! O God of heaven's most glorious host! To Thee this hymn we raise; To Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, One God, one voice of praise! --Boston Transcript, Aug. 3.
Col. James Cameron. by H. Clay Preuss. A plain, substantial farmer, Whose years of thrift and toil With peace and plenty crowned him, As monarch of the soil: One of the “solid people,” Whose works of brain and hand Build up our nation's riches, And dignify our land. But when his outraged country Called on her sons for aid, He dropped the spade and ploughshare, And drew his battle-blade. Amid the cannon's thunder, That shook the summer air, Where iron hail fell thickest, His stalwart form was there! The best war-blood of Scotland Was burning in his veins; His fiery steed seemed conscious A Cameron held the reins! The light of glorious battle Gleamed from his master's eye, As, with the “bairns of Scotland,” He swore to “do or die!” A true man to his country Unto his latest breath, He heard the call of duty, And died a hero's death! The mem'ry of his virtues Shall blossom far and wide, And Scotland's name of Cameron, Shall be our nation's pride! --National Intelligencer, July
James Cameron (search for this): chapter 10
10. a tribute to the brave. Dedicated to the memory of the late Col. James Cameron. by H. Clay Preuss. A plain, substantial farmer, Whose years of thrift and toil With peace and plenty crowned him, As monarch of the soil: One of the “solid people,” Whose works of brain and hand Build up our nation's riches, And dignify our lmmer air, Where iron hail fell thickest, His stalwart form was there! The best war-blood of Scotland Was burning in his veins; His fiery steed seemed conscious A Cameron held the reins! The light of glorious battle Gleamed from his master's eye, As, with the “bairns of Scotland,” He swore to “do or die!” A true man to his countr his master's eye, As, with the “bairns of Scotland,” He swore to “do or die!” A true man to his country Unto his latest breath, He heard the call of duty, And died a hero's death! The mem'ry of his virtues Shall blossom far and wide, And Scotland's name of Cameron, Shall be our nation's pride! --National Inte
H. Clay Preuss (search for this): chapter 10
10. a tribute to the brave. Dedicated to the memory of the late Col. James Cameron. by H. Clay Preuss. A plain, substantial farmer, Whose years of thrift and toil With peace and plenty crowned him, As monarch of the soil: One of the “solid people,” Whose works of brain and hand Build up our nation's riches, And dignify our land. But when his outraged country Called on her sons for aid, He dropped the spade and ploughshare, And drew his battle-blade. Amid the cannon's thunder, That shook the summer air, Where iron hail fell thickest, His stalwart form was there! The best war-blood of Scotland Was burning in his veins; His fiery steed seemed conscious A Cameron held the reins! The light of glorious battle Gleamed from his master's eye, As, with the “bairns of Scotland,” He swore to “do or die!” A true man to his country Unto his latest breath, He heard the call of duty, And died a hero's death! The mem'ry of his virtues Shall blossom far and wide, And Scotland's name of Ca
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 ...