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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.) 44 0 Browse Search
The Photographic History of The Civil War: in ten volumes, Thousands of Scenes Photographed 1861-65, with Text by many Special Authorities, Index (ed. Francis Trevelyan Miller) 14 0 Browse Search
The Photographic History of The Civil War: in ten volumes, Thousands of Scenes Photographed 1861-65, with Text by many Special Authorities, Volume 9: Poetry and Eloquence. (ed. Francis Trevelyan Miller) 6 0 Browse Search
Harper's Encyclopedia of United States History (ed. Benson Lossing) 2 0 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Henry Walcott Boynton, Reader's History of American Literature 2 0 Browse Search
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Browsing named entities in The Photographic History of The Civil War: in ten volumes, Thousands of Scenes Photographed 1861-65, with Text by many Special Authorities, Volume 9: Poetry and Eloquence. (ed. Francis Trevelyan Miller). You can also browse the collection for Francis Bret Harte or search for Francis Bret Harte in all documents.

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The Photographic History of The Civil War: in ten volumes, Thousands of Scenes Photographed 1861-65, with Text by many Special Authorities, Volume 9: Poetry and Eloquence. (ed. Francis Trevelyan Miller), Chapter 7: the lighter side (search)
Nay, speak the truth, whatever it be, Though it rend my bosom's core. ‘How fell he,—with his face to the foe, Upholding the flag he bore? Oh, say not that my boy disgraced The uniform that he wore!’ ‘I cannot tell,’ said the aged man, ‘And should have remarked before, That I was with Grant,—in Illinois,— Some three years before the war.’ Then the farmer spake him never a word, But beat with his fist full sore That aged man, who had worked for Grant Some three years before the war. Francis Bret Harte. Gay and happy still The ex-confederate of twenty-four, just released from Point Lookout prison, put into the passage quoted (from his novel, Tiger Lilies) the kind of humor which appears in the familiar song and which had sustained Lee's ragged veterans during the preceding four hard years. (see page 188) Imposing officers and foreign attaches who unbend between battles—Falmouth, Virginia, April, 1863 Lest the reader suppose the life of the Civil War sol
The Photographic History of The Civil War: in ten volumes, Thousands of Scenes Photographed 1861-65, with Text by many Special Authorities, Volume 9: Poetry and Eloquence. (ed. Francis Trevelyan Miller), Chapter 9: Gettysburg: the high-water mark of the war (search)
the crested plume of the brave Navarre, That day was their oriflamme of war. So raged the battle. You know the rest: How the rebels, beaten and backward pressed, Broke at the final charge and ran. At which John Burns — a practical man- Shouldered his rifle, unbent his brows, And then went back to his bees and cows. That is the story of old John Burns; This is the moral the reader learns: In fighting the battle, the question's whether You'll show a hat that's white, or a feather. Francis Bret Harte. The very trees were stripped and bare This picture of cannonaded trees on Culp's Hill, and the views herewith of Round Top and Cemetery Ridge, carry the reader across the whole battlefield. Culp's Hill was the scene of a contest on the second day. Lee's plan on that day was to attack the right and left flanks of the Union army at the same time. Longstreet's attack on the left, at Little Round Top, approached a victory. Ewell's attack on the right at Culp's Hill, although made lat
The Photographic History of The Civil War: in ten volumes, Thousands of Scenes Photographed 1861-65, with Text by many Special Authorities, Volume 9: Poetry and Eloquence. (ed. Francis Trevelyan Miller), Chapter 10: the end of the struggle (search)
was the rejoicing over the return of peace and the saving of the nation's life. ‘The cheers of the people who came to great’ ‘I seemed to hear their trampling feet’ So all night long swept the strange array; So all night long, till the morning gray, I watch'd for one who had passed away, With a reverent awe and wonder,— Till a blue cap waved in the lengthening line, And I knew that one who was kin of mine Had come; and I spake—and lo! that sign Awakened me from my slumber. Francis Bret Harte. Driving home the cows Out of the clover and blue-eyed grass He turned them into the river-lane; One after another he let them pass, Then fastened the meadow-bars again. Under the willows, and over the hill, He patiently followed their sober pace; The merry whistle for once was still, And something shadowed the sunny face. Only a boy! and his father had said He never could let his youngest go: Two already were lying dead Under the feet of the trampling foe. But after the ev