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Browsing named entities in a specific section of Cambridge History of American Literature: volume 2 (ed. Trent, William Peterfield, 1862-1939., Erskine, John, 1879-1951., Sherman, Stuart Pratt, 1881-1926., Van Doren, Carl, 1885-1950.). Search the whole document.

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1909 AD (search for this): chapter 2.16
strand, And through the cold, untempered ocean pours Its genial streams, that far off Arctic shores May sometimes catch upon the softened breeze Strange tropic warmth and hints of summer seas. With the outbreak of hostilities in April, Timrod wrote his passionate lyric A Cry to Arms, and later, Carolina. But none of Timrod's poems had the lyric quality that fits them for popular music. The union of music and poetry in a splendid impassioned utterance came from James Ryder Randall (1839-1909). Seldom in history have the man, the moment, and the word met in such happy conjunction as in the composition of My Maryland. Randall, a native of Baltimore—just from college in Maryland, and, as he said, full of poetry and romance —was teaching English literature in Poydras College at Pointe Coupee, Louisiana, when he read in the New Orleans Delta an account of the attack on the Massachusetts troops as they passed through Baltimore: This account [he said in later years] excited me grea
August 27th (search for this): chapter 2.16
er song of victory, giving the details of the battle, ending in the triumphant victory of Sumter's volleyed lightning, and closing with an apostrophe to his native city: O glorious Empress of the main, from out thy storied spires Thou well mayst peal thy bells of joy and light thy festal fires,— Since Heaven this day hath striven for thee, hath nerved thy dauntless sons, And thou in clear-eyed faith hast seen God's angels near the guns. This victory was short-lived, however, for on 27 August, by a land attack, Fort Sumter was reduced to a shapeless mass of ruin, though the city itself stood unshaken. As the fate of the city became more and more uncertain, William Gilmore Simms, now in his old age, did all in his power to rouse the Spirit of the inhabitants. In a series of poems, Do Ye Quail? The Angel of the Church, and Our city by the sea, he presents in passionate words the claims of the historic city upon its inhabitants. Especially vivid is his plea for St. Michael's
1906 AD (search for this): chapter 2.16
of the war. This event more than any other pierced the heart of the South and called forth scores of poems from all sections. One of the early collectors claimed to have found forty-eight of these; at least four or five rise to a high level of expression. No other poem gives anything like so adequate an expression of Jackson—his personal appearance, his religious faith, his impressive commands, his almost magical control of his men—as Stonewall Jackson's way by John Williamson Palmer (1825-1906). Excellent also are Margaret J. Preston's Stonewall Jackson's grave and Under the shade of the trees, Flash's Death of Stonewall Jackson, Randall's The Lone Sentry, and the anonymous The brigade must not know, Sir. In 1863 Charleston was attacked by the Northern fleet and her group of devoted poets gathered about her in suspense. Timrod described the dawn of the eventful day as the city in the broad sunlight of heroic deeds waited for the foe. The hostile smoke of the enemy's fleet creep
1839 AD (search for this): chapter 2.16
n monument in Richmond (1858), was quartermaster and captain in the Army of Virginia, and came out of the struggle broken in fortune and in health. Albert Pike, See also Book II, Chap. VII. born in Massachusetts and author of Hymns to the gods (1839), was Confederate Commissioner to the Indians and afterwards a brigadier-general. Margaret Junkin Preston, born in Philadelphia, revealed in Beechenbrook—a poetical transcript of her experiences and impressions of the war—what the war meant to a od wrote his passionate lyric A Cry to Arms, and later, Carolina. But none of Timrod's poems had the lyric quality that fits them for popular music. The union of music and poetry in a splendid impassioned utterance came from James Ryder Randall (1839-1909). Seldom in history have the man, the moment, and the word met in such happy conjunction as in the composition of My Maryland. Randall, a native of Baltimore—just from college in Maryland, and, as he said, full of poetry and romance —was te
1859 AD (search for this): chapter 2.16
and Christmas night of ‘62 to the quieter and gentler aspects of a soldier's life. Sidney Lanier and John B. Tabb, See Book III, Chap. IV. after living the romantic life of soldiers, sealed a memorable friendship by a common suffering in the prison at Point Lookout. The feeling of the South as represented by all these poets first expressed itself in music. Southern soldiers were quick to seize upon Dixie, the words of which had been written by Dan D. Emmett for Bryant's minstrels in 1859. Except for the refrain and a few haunting phrases, the words were totally inadequate, but the music proved to be the chief inspiration of Southern armies throughout the long conflict. Sung for the first time by Mrs. John Wood in New Orleans late in 1860, it was taken up by the Louisiana regiments and was soon heard by the campfires and hearthstones of the South. From New Orleans, too, came The Bonnie blue flag, an old Hibernian melody, with words written by an Irish comedian, Harry McCart
1860 AD (search for this): chapter 2.16
me, and thenceforth prone to lead a life of culture rather than of creative activity. The result was that the South, in 1860, had found no adequate expression of her life, no interpretation of her ideals, not even a description of her natural sceniration of Southern armies throughout the long conflict. Sung for the first time by Mrs. John Wood in New Orleans late in 1860, it was taken up by the Louisiana regiments and was soon heard by the campfires and hearthstones of the South. From New O had looked on the writing of poetry as a pastime and not a passion. Before the war he had edited Russell's magazine (1857-60) and had published three volumes of poetry—poems characterized by a certain imitativeness and yet a genuine love of nature Hayne, had also definitely dedicated himself to the work of a poet, having already published a volume of poems in Boston (1860) and many individual poems in Russell's magazine and The Southern literary Messenger. A poet by natural temperament, he w
1861 AD (search for this): chapter 2.16
of Southern armies throughout the long conflict. Sung for the first time by Mrs. John Wood in New Orleans late in 1860, it was taken up by the Louisiana regiments and was soon heard by the campfires and hearthstones of the South. From New Orleans, too, came The Bonnie blue flag, an old Hibernian melody, with words written by an Irish comedian, Harry McCarthy, a volunteer soldier in the Confederate Army from Arkansas. The enthusiasm aroused by its first rendition at the Varieties Theatre in 1861 is well described by a later writer. The theatre was filled with soldiers from Texas, Arkansas, and Louisiana on their way to the front. McCarthy appeared on the stage accompanied by his sister waving a Confederate flag. Before the first verse was ended the audience was quivering with excitement. After he sang the second stanza the audience joined in the chorus and sang it over and over again amid the most intensive excitement. It was wafted to the streets and in twenty-four hours it wa
April (search for this): chapter 2.16
not be quoted in any characterization of the natural warmth and cordiality of the Southern people: The hour perchance is not yet wholly ripe When all shall own it, but the type Whereby we shall be known in every land Is that vast gulf which lips our Southern strand, And through the cold, untempered ocean pours Its genial streams, that far off Arctic shores May sometimes catch upon the softened breeze Strange tropic warmth and hints of summer seas. With the outbreak of hostilities in April, Timrod wrote his passionate lyric A Cry to Arms, and later, Carolina. But none of Timrod's poems had the lyric quality that fits them for popular music. The union of music and poetry in a splendid impassioned utterance came from James Ryder Randall (1839-1909). Seldom in history have the man, the moment, and the word met in such happy conjunction as in the composition of My Maryland. Randall, a native of Baltimore—just from college in Maryland, and, as he said, full of poetry and romance
1863 AD (search for this): chapter 2.16
r matchless forests—the mournful wailings of broken hearts. The most striking new features of the volume are Timrod's Ode on the Confederate dead (written in 1867) and Dr. Ticknor's Little Giffen of Tennessee, which, though probably written in 1863, was not published until October, 1867, in The land we love. The latter poem is not given, however, as it appears in the revised form of later years, the last stanza being especially faulty. All these anthologies had appeared with but little iliamson Palmer (1825-1906). Excellent also are Margaret J. Preston's Stonewall Jackson's grave and Under the shade of the trees, Flash's Death of Stonewall Jackson, Randall's The Lone Sentry, and the anonymous The brigade must not know, Sir. In 1863 Charleston was attacked by the Northern fleet and her group of devoted poets gathered about her in suspense. Timrod described the dawn of the eventful day as the city in the broad sunlight of heroic deeds waited for the foe. The hostile smoke of
1864 AD (search for this): chapter 2.16
to be selected by the minstrel, the following verse always closed it: But now my song is ended, And I haven't got much time, I'm going to run the blockade To see that girl of mine. Some of these poems are found in Rebel Rhymes and rhapsodies (1864) edited by Frank Moore as a companion volume to two other volumes of war poetry of the North. In his preface to this first anthology of Southern war poetry Moore says: It has been the purpose of the editor to present as full a selection of thjudgment Davidson shows the ability of a careful editor in weighing evidence as to the authorship of All quiet along the Potomac—a poem that all Southerners had claimed as the work of Lamar Fontaine. Now by some ascribed to Thaddeus Oliver (1826-64). Davidson publishes Fontaine's letter claiming positively the authorship, but side by side with it is one from Joel Chandler Harris, who was at that time, according to the editor, planning an edition of Southern poems, and who after much deliberat
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