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The Common (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 2
e two officers, who had so much distinguished themselves on that occasion, General Brooks asked Colonel Bancroft to take a cup of coffee and remain till the procession came up, and added, There is no man whom I am more glad to see on this occasion than yourself. To which the other answered (the parties, forgetting their present rank, addressed each other by the titles they held in the Revolutionary army): There is no one, Colonel Brooks, who rejoices in it more than I do. I breakfasted at Reading, and came down on purpose to witness the ceremonies of this occasion. The choice of a governor which the people have made delights my heart. I can truly say that if you make as good a governor as you did colonel of a regiment, you will render yourself distinguished, and the people will be blessed in your administration. Tears flowed down their cheeks as they clasped each other's hands. To the remarks of Captain Bancroft, Colonel Brooks replied (they still shaking hands heartily), I than
Massachusetts (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 2
old's command was an officer whose memory Medford ever delights to honor—John Brooks. Certainly it was with a feeling of satisfaction that we looked across the hills to the scene of the heroic charge, and remembered the part the Medford doctor and the Massachusetts men took therein. Nearly a century ago an episode occurred in Medford that recalled that battle day. It is worthy of record in Medford annals, and we can do no better than to quote it entire, as given by Gen. W. H. Sumner in Massachusetts Historical Collection, Vol. III. IN the year 1816, General Brooks having been declared governor by the two branches of the Legislature, I was invited out to breakfast with him at Medford on the day fixed for his inauguration. Colonel Hall and one or two others were present. I shall never forget the day, which was one of the pleasantest in June. There was a cavalcade formed in Boston, which proceeded to Medford, under the command of General Sullivan, to escort the popular governor
Bemis Heights (New York, United States) (search for this): chapter 2
my, he took command of a regiment of militia, which he held a long time) modestly entered the side door. This was the distinguished officer who commanded a company in the Eighth Regiment, under the command of Colonel Brooks, in the battle of Bemis' Heights, between the armies of Generals Gates and Burgoyne, during the Revolutionary War, on the 7th of October, 1777. After the usual salutations between these two officers, who had so much distinguished themselves on that occasion, General Brooks k the office to which the people have elected me, and I fear I do not possess the qualifications for it; but I can truly say that if, in the office of governor, I have such support as I had as colonel of a regiment in taking Breyman's Fort on Bemis' Heights, I shall hope to do the State some service. The cavalcade now entered the streets of Medford amid the acclamations of the citizens. General Brooks mounted his charger, and by his request, I rode by his side as volunteer aid. On the way, a
Fort William Henry, New York (New York, United States) (search for this): chapter 2
on Winter Hill. TO the student of history, as well as to all of patriotic thought, the scenes of the Colonial and Revolutionary Wars have a special interest. It was with somewhat of patriotic and reverential feeling that the writer strolled along the road from Lake George and past Bloody Pond with his grandson, and told the little boy the story of the old struggle for supremacy in that gateway of the north, and how his three times great grandfather had gone over the same route to Fort William Henry, also not omitting the story of Burgoyne's southward march over the same historic ground. And again, how impressive were the hours spent in the old Marshall house at Schuylerville (the home of a daughter's friend). There the Baroness Reidesel found shelter, descending to the cellar for safety during the cannonade of one of the world's decisive battles. Then the visit to the Saratoga battle monument, whose lofty shaft fitly commemorates the struggle of an eventful day, will never
John Brook (Connecticut, United States) (search for this): chapter 2
forgotten. In enduring bronze on three sides stand the figures of Schuyler, Gates and Morgan, but the empty niche on the fourth speaks eloquently, but sadly, of the one who fought so bravely till wounded. Empty it must ever remain; only the name of Arnold suggests the reason why. Historians accord to Arnold exceptional bravery on that day, and better had it been for him had the enemy's wound been fatal. Under Arnold's command was an officer whose memory Medford ever delights to honor—John Brooks. Certainly it was with a feeling of satisfaction that we looked across the hills to the scene of the heroic charge, and remembered the part the Medford doctor and the Massachusetts men took therein. Nearly a century ago an episode occurred in Medford that recalled that battle day. It is worthy of record in Medford annals, and we can do no better than to quote it entire, as given by Gen. W. H. Sumner in Massachusetts Historical Collection, Vol. III. IN the year 1816, General Brooks
Jackson (Tennessee, United States) (search for this): chapter 2
no reply, but, on being pressed, said, I am afraid to trust you, Arnold. To which Arnold answered, Pray let me go; I will be careful, and if our advance does not need support I will promise not to commit you. Gates then told him he might go and see what the firing meant. Arnold lost no time in advancing with his brigade, and finding that the attack was serious, engaged the left of the enemy's right, where, meeting with great obstacles, he ordered me (I was then commanding the Eighth, or Jackson's Regiment, as it was commonly called) to get a position on the enemy's right flank. This was protected by Breyman's Fort, mounting several brass pieces, and was rather a breastwork, or redoubt, with guns mounted on three sides, than a fort. I advanced under cover of the woods, and as the regiment deployed out of them in front of the fort, the enemy, surprised at our sudden appearance, fired a volley of musketry at us. Seeing what they were about to do, as their heads rose above the parap
Mystick River (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 2
y, as thus related by his auditor, we may well raise the query, What would have been the effect had his regiment fallen back, as his superior officer wished? and admire his good judgment in remaining and holding the ground thus won. What wonder that in the hour of his honorable advancement (nearly forty years later), that the memory of that crucial time should have so visibly affected those two worthy men! A bit of Medford archaeology. IN the summer of 1911 the upper reach of the Mystic River was dredged to a uniform depth, including the portion under Wear Bridge. By means of the gates in the Cradock dam the river was for a time drained to its lowest point, revealing the bottom, never before seen by mortal eyes. As the work progressed some interesting features were noticed, but none more so than the exhuming of a heavy framework of oak timber on the Medford side, about midway between Harvard and Fairfield avenues. It was in a good state of preservation, and though incomplete
Bloody Pond (Tennessee, United States) (search for this): chapter 2
Told on Winter Hill. TO the student of history, as well as to all of patriotic thought, the scenes of the Colonial and Revolutionary Wars have a special interest. It was with somewhat of patriotic and reverential feeling that the writer strolled along the road from Lake George and past Bloody Pond with his grandson, and told the little boy the story of the old struggle for supremacy in that gateway of the north, and how his three times great grandfather had gone over the same route to Fort William Henry, also not omitting the story of Burgoyne's southward march over the same historic ground. And again, how impressive were the hours spent in the old Marshall house at Schuylerville (the home of a daughter's friend). There the Baroness Reidesel found shelter, descending to the cellar for safety during the cannonade of one of the world's decisive battles. Then the visit to the Saratoga battle monument, whose lofty shaft fitly commemorates the struggle of an eventful day, wi
Winter Hill (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 2
people have elected me, and I fear I do not possess the qualifications for it; but I can truly say that if, in the office of governor, I have such support as I had as colonel of a regiment in taking Breyman's Fort on Bemis' Heights, I shall hope to do the State some service. The cavalcade now entered the streets of Medford amid the acclamations of the citizens. General Brooks mounted his charger, and by his request, I rode by his side as volunteer aid. On the way, as we were ascending Winter Hill, General Brooks remarked: Perhaps you do not know, sir, the reason why the meeting between Captain Bancroft and myself was so affecting. I will explain. On the 7th of October, the day of the last battle with General Burgoyne, General Arnold and several officers dined with General Gates. I was among the company, and well remember that one of the dishes was an ox's heart. While at table we heard a firing from the advanced picket. The armies were about two miles from each other.
Winter Hill (Wyoming, United States) (search for this): chapter 2
Told on Winter Hill. TO the student of history, as well as to all of patriotic thought, the scenes of the Colonial and Revolutionary Wars have a special interest. It was with somewhat of patriotic and reverential feeling that the writer strolled along the road from Lake George and past Bloody Pond with his grandson, and told the little boy the story of the old struggle for supremacy in that gateway of the north, and how his three times great grandfather had gone over the same route to Fort William Henry, also not omitting the story of Burgoyne's southward march over the same historic ground. And again, how impressive were the hours spent in the old Marshall house at Schuylerville (the home of a daughter's friend). There the Baroness Reidesel found shelter, descending to the cellar for safety during the cannonade of one of the world's decisive battles. Then the visit to the Saratoga battle monument, whose lofty shaft fitly commemorates the struggle of an eventful day, wi
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