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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 George H. Thomas or search for George H. Thomas in all documents.

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The sagacity of General Thomas.--There can be no question that General Thomas saved the army of the Chickamauga Creek on our left flank, where Thomas's corps was placed, and then force him back upon Crittenden and McCook. After Thomas was thus driven, another rebel column was to cross the creek and strike Thomas again as he was forced back, thus completing his rout. Thomas, with the sagacityThomas, with the sagacity of a great soldier, perceived the object of the rebels. He did not wait to be assailed, but, with p. Respectfully your obedient servant, Geo. H. Thomas, Major-General Commanding. This order have been superseded by a better man than General Thomas. There is an earnest heartiness in this ned the rebel army. This officer says that General Thomas clearly saw the prize of victory within hierve corps had been hurled against the rebels, Thomas had not another thousand fresh soldiers whom her says that there were other generals besides Thomas who saw what a prize was lost for the want of [3 more...]
one of dense mists and rains, and much of General Hooker's battle was fought above the clouds, which concealed him from our view, but from which his musketry was heard.--General Meigs to Secretary Stanton. By the banks of Chattanooga watching with a soldier's heed, In the chilly autumn morning, gallant Grant was on his steed: For the foe had climbed above him with the banners of their band, And the cannon swept the river from the hills of Cumberland. Like a trumpet rang his orders: “Howard, Thomas, to the bridge! One brigade aboard the Dunbar! Storm the heights of Mission Ridge, On the left the ledges, Sherman, charge and hurl the rebels down! Hooker, take the steeps of Lookout and the slopes before the town!” Fearless, from the northern summits, looked the traitors, where they lay, On the gleaming Union army, marshalled as for muster-day, Till the sudden shout of battle thundered upward its alarms, And they dropped their idle glasses in a hurried rush to arms. Then together up the
ou — no mistake!--you put up there to sell! You grumbled — whack! down came the thong on your back; Good lord! how you, Thomas, did wriggle and yell! My black sage looked on with a sneering disdain, Stepped up to the block and examined your mouth; upright; one would tweak your nose; One hustled you down, just to see how you'd jump. 'Twas fun to their blackships, but Thomas, I've fears Your temper that moment was none of the best; There was rage in your scowl; in your old eyes were tears; For ump lively, and laugh as you ought, Though, cursed in a whisper, you tried to look gay, But at last for a rice-swamp you, Thomas, were bought, Or “hired for life,” as your sageship would say; Rather “hired for death” --so I dared to suggest; But then views less extreme, That when you've tried slavery's hell for awhile, The misery of millions won't seem a good joke, A grin from the dulness of fools to beguile-- And thinking this, Thomas, thank heaven! I awoke. W. C. Bennett. Blackhe
38. our money. Our treasury is furnished with rags, So thick even Jeff cannot thin 'em. Jeff's torn up his old money bags, Having nothing like cash to put in 'em. Our farmers are smashed up by dozens, But this is all nothing they say; For bankrupts, since Adam, are cousins, But 'tis all in a family way. Our debts not a shilling take from us, As statesmen the matter explain; Bob owes it to Tom, and then Thomas Just owes it to Bob back again. Since all thus have taken to owing, There's nobody left that can pay; And that is the way we keep going, All just in a family way. Our congressmen vote away millions To put in the huge Southern budget, And if it were billions or trillions, The generous rogues would not grudge it. 'Tis naught but a family hop, And Jeff began dancing they say-- Hands round! Why the deuce should we stop? 'Tis all in a family way. Our rich cotton-planters all tumble-- The poor ones have nothing to chew, And if they themselves do not grumble, Their stomachs undoubted
Little Johnny Clem.--A pleasant little scene occurred last evening at the headquarters of General Thomas. Of course you remember the story of little Johnny Clem, the motherless atom of a drummer-boy, aged ten, who strayed away from Newark, Ohio; and the first we knew of him, though small enough to live in a drum, was beating the long roll for the Twenty-second Michigan. At Chickamauga, he filled the office of marker, carrying the guidon whereby they form the lines; a duty having its counterpart in the surveyor's more peaceful calling, in the flag-man who flutters the red signal along the metes and bounds. On the Sunday of the battle, the little fellow's occupation gone, he picked up a gun that had fallen from some dying hand, provided himself with ammunition, and began putting in the periods quite on his own account, blazing away close to the ground, like a fire-fly in the grass. Late in the waning day, the waif left almost alone in the whirl of the battle, a rebel Colonel dash
rom the high-crested forehead of Lookout, the Mission's long sinuous crown; Till Grant, our invincible hero, the winner of every fight! Who joys in the strife, like the eagle that drinks from the storm delight! Marshalled his war-worn legions, and, pointing to them the foe, Kindled their hearts with the tidings that now should be stricken the blow, The rebel to sweep from old Lookout, that cloud-post dizzily high, Whence the taunt of his cannon and banner had affronted so long the sky. Brave Thomas the foeman had brushed from his summit the nearest, and now The balm of the midnight's quiet soothed Nature's agonized brow; A midnight of murkiest darkness, and Lookout's undefined mass Heaved grandly a frown on the welkin, a barricade nothing might pass. Its breast was sprinkled with sparkles,. its crest was dotted with gold, Telling the camps of the rebels secure as they deemed in their hold. Where glimmered the creek of the Lookout, it seemed the black dome of the night Had dropped all i