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The Annals of the Civil War Written by Leading Participants North and South (ed. Alexander Kelly McClure), Recollections of Grant. (search)
rans then. I, too, was a veteran. I heard the drums beating, and again I went down to the village, and there saw the boys paraded for the last time on the green grass of the court-house yard; on the very spot, indeed, where, four years before, we had been mustered in. There was not so much room required now, as then. Twenty-seven bronzed faces were all that were left of a hundred stout youths who had stood on that same spot but four short years before. There was no cheering now, as then; the silence was painful, almost. Many of the wives, and mothers, and sisters who were there before, were not there again — they could not be. In their desolate homes they sat, and, like Rachel, wept and would not be comforted. Their soldiers had been left behind; had been mustered out on the red battle-field many a day before. I have left my native village since then-I could not stay there. The recollections that always crowded upon my mind when passing the green court yard made it impossible
Thomas C. DeLeon, Four years in Rebel capitals: an inside view of life in the southern confederacy, from birth to death., Chapter 23: around Richmond. (search)
n, Longstreet, the Hills and Hood had added fresh laurels to brows believed to have room for no leaf more. Almost every officer had proved himself worthy of the prayers of such women as the South owned — of that even higher glory of leading such troops as fought to defend them. But at what awful cost had all this been bought! The slaughter of their nearest and dearest had been terrific: women, the highest and lowliest, met by the cot of the sufferer; and, in the free masonry of love, tended the living and comforted each other for their dead. But through the brave endeavor of their sacred office, these noble sisters of mercy showed no yielding to the claims of self. Over their own sorrows they rose triumphant-tended the faint-cheered the despondent-filling the place of wife and mother to those who should nevermore see home-even while The air is filled with farewells to the dying And wailings for the dead; The voice of Rachel for her children crying Can not be comforted
Thomas C. DeLeon, Four years in Rebel capitals: an inside view of life in the southern confederacy, from birth to death., Chapter 38: after the death blow was dealt. (search)
his men-by General Ewell's capture and by the sense of hopelessness of further resistance, had on the morning of the 9th of April, surrendered 24,000 men-including the volunteer citizens, and the naval brigade of all the Richmond ship's-crews-and with them 8,000 muskets! Such, too, was the condition of the horses that the Federals refused even to drive them away from their stands. Little need, indeed, had there been for those extra brigades around the city. Then Richmond, sitting like Rachel in her desolation, waited for the return of her vanquished — heroes still to her. News came of the general parole; and every sound across the river-every cloud of dust at the pontoon bridge — was the signal for a rush to doorstep and porch. Days passed and the women — not realizing the great difficulties of transportation-grew impatient to clasp their loved ones once more to their hearts. False outcries were made every hour, only to result in sickening disappointment and suspense. At last<
Judith White McGuire, Diary of a southern refugee during the war, by a lady of Virginia, 1864. (search)
thought that college or business days had almost come to take him from us. And then we will remember the mixed feeling of hope and pride when we first saw this household pet don his jacket of gray and shoulder his musket for the field; how we would be bright and cheerful before him, and turn to our chambers to weep oceans of tears when he is fairly gone. And does he, too, sleep his last sleep? Does our precious one fill a hero's grave? O God! help us, for the wail is in the whole land! Rachel weeping for her children, and will not be comforted, because they are not. In all the broad South there will be scarcely a fold without its missing lamb, a fireside without its vacant chair. And yet we must go on. It is our duty to rid our land of invaders; we must destroy the snake which is endeavouring to entwine us in its coils, though it drain our heart's blood. We know that we are right in the sight of God, and that we must With patient mind our course of duty run. God nothing do
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 1. (ed. Frank Moore), chapter 201 (search)
y's gallant corps Of noble dead can sleep no more Where monuments at Baltimore Libel our Liberty. II. Oh, touch them tenderly, I pray, And softly wipe the blood away From the red lips of wounds, that say, “How sweet it is to die For one's dear Country, at a time Coincidence crowns, with sublime Associations, deeds that chime In human history!” III. Deal gently with the pale, cold dead, For Massachusetts bows her head-- But not with shame; her eyes are red With weeping for the slain. Like Rachel, she is sad indeed; And long her broken heart will bleed For children true in word and deed She cannot meet again. IV. Whisper no word of treason when Ye bear away our bravest men From the foul traitor's hateful den, Red with our brother's blood; A spot that must forever be, Like Sodom sunk beneath the sea, It sinks in coward treachery, Unwept beneath the flood. V. Lift up each gallant son of Mars, And shroud him in the flag of stars, Beneath whose folds he won the scars Through which his
HISTORY OF THE TOWN OF MEDFORD, Middlesex County, Massachusetts, FROM ITS FIRST SETTLEMENT, IN 1630, TO THE PRESENT TIME, 1855. (ed. Charles Brooks), chapter 18 (search)
er, and is still alive.  26James, b. Nov. 1, 1793; d., Mar. 20, 1837, unm.   Ephraim Kidder m. Rachel----, and had--    Hannah,b. Sept. 2, 1696. Dorothy,   Mary Kidder m. Caleb Brooks, Jan. 1el.  c.Rebecca.  276d.Ebenezer Tufts m. Rachel Whitmore, Feb. 17, 1731, and had--  276d.-276e.Rachel, b. Mar. 21, 1732.  276f.William Tufts, jun., m. Catharine Tufts, Jan. 10, 1750. He had--  27f Dunstable, m.--------, and had--  24-27John, b. May 2, 1728.  28Robert, b. Apr. 9, 1730.  29Rachel, b. 1732.  30Habijah, b. Aug. 8, 1734; m.--------, who d. Oct. 19, 1791. 24-28Robert Usher m.-of the early settlers in Medford, at least at the period when the records commence. He m., 1st, Rachel, dau. of Francis Eliot, and widow of John Poulter, of Cambridge. His children by her were--  41703; d. same year.  17Anna, b. May 4, 1707.  18Eliot, b. Mar. 13, 1710; d. Mar. 16, 1713.  19Rachel, b. Apr. 1, 1712; m. Eben. Tufts, Feb. 17, 1731.  20Mercy, b. Mar. 11, 1714.  
Louisa May Alcott, Hospital Sketches: An Army Nurse's True Account of her Experience during the Civil War., Chapter 6: a postscript. (search)
fell into line in front of the house, looking rather wan and feeble, some of them, but trying to step out smartly and march in good order, though half the knapsacks were carried by the guard, and several leaned on sticks instead of shouldering guns. All looked up and smiled, or waved heir hands and touched their caps, as they passed under our windows down the long street, and so away, some to their homes in this world, and some to that in the next; and, for the rest of the day, I felt like Rachel mourning for her children, when I saw the empty beds and missed the familiar faces. You ask if nurses are obliged to witness amputations and such matters, as a part of their duty? I think not, unless they wish; for the patient is under the effects of ether, and needs no care but such as the surgeons can best give. Our work begins afterward, when the poor soul comes to himself, sick, faint, and wandering; full of strange pains and confused visions, of disagreeable sensations and sights.
Harper's Encyclopedia of United States History (ed. Benson Lossing), Hale, Edward Everett 1822- (search)
Hale, Edward Everett 1822- Clergyman; born in Boston, April 3, 1822; graduated at Harvard College in 1839; studied theology and became minister of the Church of the Unity, Worcester, Mass., in Edward Everett Hale. 1846, where he remained till 1856, when he became minister of the South church (Unitarian), Boston. In May, 1899, he resigned his pastorate after a service of forty-three years. He is the author of The man without a country; Ten times One is ten; Margaret Percival in America; In his name; Mr. Tangiers' vacations; Mrs. Merriam's scholars; His level best; Ups and Downs; Fortunes of Rachel; Four and five; Crusoe in New York; Christmas eve and Christmas day; Our Christmas in a Palace; Sketches in Christian history; Kansas and Nebraska; What career? boys' heroes; Sybaris, and other homes; For fifty years; A New England boyhood; Chautauquan history of the United States, etc. See lend-A-hand clubs
Knight's Mechanical Encyclopedia (ed. Knight), S. (search)
and jewels of gold were given by Abraham's servant to Rebecca; a golden ear-ring of half a shekel weight, and bracelets for her hands of ten shekels weight of gold. Vessels of various kinds and images were also made of it, and at a very early day. It is generally allowed to be the best material for drinkingvessels and table-ware, and has been a favorite therefor in all historic ages. Joseph, who was viceroy of Egypt, speaks of my cup, the silver cup. The images (terraphim) which Rachel stole from her father Laban were no doubt of silver. The ancient notices of silver are numerous, both as a medium of exchange and for articles of use, ornament, and luxury. A traveler in Honduras describes the primitive mode in which silver ores are treated by the Indians in that country. The man disappeared in a hole in the hillside, and presently appeared with a lump of ore. The man and woman then selected each a flat stone, and began pounding the ore, which was thus gradually reduc
William Hepworth Dixon, White Conquest: Volume 2, Chapter 15: shades of colour. (search)
y a trench-and here with furled banner, outspread eagles, and crash of music, Mose Crump is laid down. The family are all present-men and women, boys and girls. The groans and sighs are loud, but the Negro minister contrives to drown the voices of everyone save an old woman, who, with yearning pathos, sobs and screams: I nebber see my son, I nebber see my son no more! The preacher tries to storm her down. You go your ways; you go and lib like him; den you see your son again! The Black Rachel weeps and yells, refusing to be comforted, even by a minister of her own. When the men in uniform seize their shovels and begin to fill the grave, chanting a chorus like that sung by sailors as they haul in ropes, the old woman cries still louder: No, I nebber see my son, I nebber see my son no more! Poor soul, she knows the bitterness of her heart. The younger people laugh and cry by turns, and when the grave is filled in, they scatter into groups, chat with their friends, and get into
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