hide Sorting

You can sort these results in two ways:

By entity (current method)
Chronological order for dates, alphabetical order for places and people.
By position
As the entities appear in the document.

You are currently sorting in ascending order. Sort in descending order.

hide Most Frequent Entities

The entities that appear most frequently in this document are shown below.

Entity Max. Freq Min. Freq
Kentucky (Kentucky, United States) 52 0 Browse Search
United States (United States) 52 0 Browse Search
George H. Thomas 42 0 Browse Search
John Bull 36 0 Browse Search
Grant 32 8 Browse Search
Ohio (Ohio, United States) 28 0 Browse Search
Robert E. Lee 26 2 Browse Search
John Brown 22 0 Browse Search
Georgia (Georgia, United States) 22 0 Browse Search
Calvin C. Morgan 21 1 Browse Search
View all entities in this document...

Browsing named entities in a specific section of Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 8. (ed. Frank Moore). Search the whole document.

Found 16 total hits in 12 results.

1 2
Babcock (search for this): chapter 136
cFlimsey, the Sergeant had nothing to wear; the clothing in the wardrobe of loyal liver was not at all like Desdemona's handkerchief, too little, but like the garments of the man who roomed a month over a baker's oven, a world too wide; and so Miss Babcock, of the Sanitary Commission, suggested to a resident of your city, that a uniform for the little Orderly would be acceptable. Mr. Waite and other gentlemen of the Sherman House ordered it, Messrs. A. D. Titsworth & Company made it, Chaplain Raymond brought it, Miss Babcock presented it, and Johnny put it on. Chaplain Raymond, of the Fifty-first Illinois--by the by, a most earnest and efficient officer — accompanied the gift with exceedingly appropriate suggestion and advice, the substance of which I send you. This morning I happened at headquarters just as the belted and armed Sergeant was booted and spurred, and ready to ride. Resplendent in his elegant uniform, rigged cap-a-pie, modest, frank, with a clear eye and a manly face, h
Chase (search for this): chapter 136
n a mother's grave in the hearing of her child! A few swift moments ticked on by musket-shots, and the tiny gunner was swept up at a rebel swoop and borne away a prisoner. Soldiers, bigger but not better, were taken with him, only to be washed back again by a surge of Federal troopers, and the prisoner of thirty minutes was again John Clem of ours; and General Rosecrans made him a sergeant, and the stripes of rank covered him all over, like a mouse in a harness; and the daughter of Mr Secretary Chase presented him a silver medal appropriately inscribed, which he worthily wears, a royal order of honor, upon his left breast; and all men conspire to spoil him; but, since few ladies can get at him here, perhaps he may be saved. But what about last night? Well, like Flora McFlimsey, the Sergeant had nothing to wear; the clothing in the wardrobe of loyal liver was not at all like Desdemona's handkerchief, too little, but like the garments of the man who roomed a month over a baker's
John Clem (search for this): chapter 136
, the glancing barrel lifted into range, and the proud Colonel tumbled from his horse, his lips fresh-stained with the syllable of vile reproach he had flung on a mother's grave in the hearing of her child! A few swift moments ticked on by musket-shots, and the tiny gunner was swept up at a rebel swoop and borne away a prisoner. Soldiers, bigger but not better, were taken with him, only to be washed back again by a surge of Federal troopers, and the prisoner of thirty minutes was again John Clem of ours; and General Rosecrans made him a sergeant, and the stripes of rank covered him all over, like a mouse in a harness; and the daughter of Mr Secretary Chase presented him a silver medal appropriately inscribed, which he worthily wears, a royal order of honor, upon his left breast; and all men conspire to spoil him; but, since few ladies can get at him here, perhaps he may be saved. But what about last night? Well, like Flora McFlimsey, the Sergeant had nothing to wear; the cloth
Johnny Clem (search for this): chapter 136
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 das
Little Johnny Clem (search for this): chapter 136
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
Flora McFlimsey (search for this): chapter 136
s, and the prisoner of thirty minutes was again John Clem of ours; and General Rosecrans made him a sergeant, and the stripes of rank covered him all over, like a mouse in a harness; and the daughter of Mr Secretary Chase presented him a silver medal appropriately inscribed, which he worthily wears, a royal order of honor, upon his left breast; and all men conspire to spoil him; but, since few ladies can get at him here, perhaps he may be saved. But what about last night? Well, like Flora McFlimsey, the Sergeant had nothing to wear; the clothing in the wardrobe of loyal liver was not at all like Desdemona's handkerchief, too little, but like the garments of the man who roomed a month over a baker's oven, a world too wide; and so Miss Babcock, of the Sanitary Commission, suggested to a resident of your city, that a uniform for the little Orderly would be acceptable. Mr. Waite and other gentlemen of the Sherman House ordered it, Messrs. A. D. Titsworth & Company made it, Chaplain R
Raymond (search for this): chapter 136
Babcock, of the Sanitary Commission, suggested to a resident of your city, that a uniform for the little Orderly would be acceptable. Mr. Waite and other gentlemen of the Sherman House ordered it, Messrs. A. D. Titsworth & Company made it, Chaplain Raymond brought it, Miss Babcock presented it, and Johnny put it on. Chaplain Raymond, of the Fifty-first Illinois--by the by, a most earnest and efficient officer — accompanied the gift with exceedingly appropriate suggestion and advice, the substaChaplain Raymond, of the Fifty-first Illinois--by the by, a most earnest and efficient officer — accompanied the gift with exceedingly appropriate suggestion and advice, the substance of which I send you. This morning I happened at headquarters just as the belted and armed Sergeant was booted and spurred, and ready to ride. Resplendent in his elegant uniform, rigged cap-a-pie, modest, frank, with a clear eye and a manly face, he looked more like a fancypicture than a living thing. Said he to the Chaplain: You captured me by surprise, yesterday. Now, he is going on thirteen, as our grandmothers used to say; but he would be no monster if we called him only nine. Think o
S. Rosecrans (search for this): chapter 136
d into range, and the proud Colonel tumbled from his horse, his lips fresh-stained with the syllable of vile reproach he had flung on a mother's grave in the hearing of her child! A few swift moments ticked on by musket-shots, and the tiny gunner was swept up at a rebel swoop and borne away a prisoner. Soldiers, bigger but not better, were taken with him, only to be washed back again by a surge of Federal troopers, and the prisoner of thirty minutes was again John Clem of ours; and General Rosecrans made him a sergeant, and the stripes of rank covered him all over, like a mouse in a harness; and the daughter of Mr Secretary Chase presented him a silver medal appropriately inscribed, which he worthily wears, a royal order of honor, upon his left breast; and all men conspire to spoil him; but, since few ladies can get at him here, perhaps he may be saved. But what about last night? Well, like Flora McFlimsey, the Sergeant had nothing to wear; the clothing in the wardrobe of loya
Newark, Ohio (Ohio, United States) (search for this): chapter 136
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
George H. Thomas (search for this): chapter 136
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
1 2