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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).

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ouble-quick in the rear. The weather was perfect. Scores of bands filled the air with familiar tunes, and the choruses of When this cruel war is over, When Johnny comes marching home, and Tramp, Tramp, Tramp, the boys are marching, were sung lustily by the enthusiastic onlookers. Popular leaders were received with the most boisterous demonstrations. When Meade appeared at the head of the column, his pathway was strewn with flowers, and garlands were placed upon him and his horse. On the second day, Sherman was eagerly waited for, and he had advanced but a little way when flowers and wreaths almost covered him and his horse. When the bands at the reviewing stand struck up Marching through Georgia, the people cheered wildly with delight. This was no Roman triumph. It 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;
Church, across the narrow graveyard, its walls blasted by the fire of December, 1861. Here the vote was taken on December 20, 1860, declaring that ‘the union now subsisting between South Carolina and the other States under the name of the United States of America is hereby dissolved.’ The secession convention was composed of the most experienced men in the State—men who had represented it in the national Congress, judges in the highest courts, eminent divines, and wealthy planters. On the fourth day of its session, at twelve o'clock, the ordinance quoted from above was read with flashing eyes by the venerable judge of chancery, Chancellor Inglis. At a quarter past one it was passed unanimously. The doorkeeper passed the word to the policeman without; he called to another, and so on until the sentinel at the massive iron gate proclaimed it to the impatient populace. The bells in every rocking steeple mingled their notes with the shouts of the excited throngs that filled the street<
of the war—Gettysburg. And as we started, her little hand Went to her curly head In grave salute; ‘And who are you?’ At length the Sergeant said. ‘And where's your home?’ he growled again. She lisped out, “Who is me? Why, don't you know? I'm little Jane, The pride of Battery B. My home? Why, that was burned away, And pa and ma are dead, And so I ride the guns all day Along with Sergeant Ned. And I've a drum that's not a toy, A cap with feathers too, And I march beside the drummer-boy On Sundays at review. But now our bacca's all give out, The men can't have their smoke, And so they're cross,—why, even Ned Won't play with me and joke. And the big Colonel said to-day— I hate to hear him swear— He'd give a leg for a good pipe Like the Yanks have over there. And so I thought, when beat the drum, And the big guns were still, I'd creep beneath the tent and come Out here across the hill. And beg, good Mister Yankee men, You'd give me some Lone Jack. Please do—when we get som
Chapter 1: separation and reunion In vain is the strife — Holmes Ruins of Charleston, 1865 from the circular church Scenes of 1861 that quickly followed Brother Jonathan (page 44) The first photograph shows Confederates on Monday the fifteenth of April, 1861—one day after the momentous event which Holmes dimly prophesied in Brother Jonathan (page 44). The picture below, with the two following, were made on the 16th. As April wore on, North and South alike had been reluctant to strike first. When Major Robert Anderson, on December 26, 1860, removed to Fort Sumter, on an island at the entrance to Charleston Harbor, he placed himself in a position to withstand long attack. But he needed supplies. The Confederates would allow none to be landed. When at length rumors of a powerful naval force to relieve the fort reached Charleston, the Confederates demanded the surrender of the garrison. Anderson promised to evacuate by April 15th if he received no additional su<
fifty guns. That day the whole North was steeled to live up to the spirit of Holmes' poem. The officers' quarters where the fire started The shattered flagstaff (to the right) Separation and reunion: brother Jonathan's lament for sister Caroline Both a record and a prophecy are contained in these lines by the New England poet, Oliver Wendell Holmes. A state convention meeting in Charleston had on December 20, 1860, unanimously passed an ordinance of secession, and during January and February six other States had followed. Early in February the Confederate Government had been organized at Montgomery, Alabama, with Jefferson Davis as President. Holmes dated this poem March 25, 1861. four days later the New President of the United States, Abraham Lincoln, ordered relief to be sent to Fort Sumter in Charleston Harbor. On April 12th the attack on Sumter was made, and the war begun. How fully the sentiment of brotherhood here expressed by Holmes has been realized amo
Howe's poem, the Ninth Vermont Infantry, as pictured vividly below, marches out of Camp in North Carolina, 1863. Its career of only a year has been unusual. It had barely entered active service in 1862 when it was transferred to Harper's Ferry. There it was captured by Stonewall Jackson on September 15, 1862, and was paroled the next day. Its military career was apparently cut short. It was used, however, to guard Confederate prisoners at Camp Douglas, Chicago, until March 28, 1863. In January of that year, it had been declared exchanged and in the fall was at length sent to New Berne, North Carolina, where it was on duty in the Newport Barracks till July, 1864. There it engaged in various expeditions into the vicinity, destroying salt-works and capturing turpentine. There the photograph here reproduced was taken. In burnished rows of steel: the Seventeenth New York Infantry at Minor's Hill. His truth is marching on: the Seventeenth New York Infantry at Minor's Hill.
o the spirit of Holmes' poem. The officers' quarters where the fire started The shattered flagstaff (to the right) Separation and reunion: brother Jonathan's lament for sister Caroline Both a record and a prophecy are contained in these lines by the New England poet, Oliver Wendell Holmes. A state convention meeting in Charleston had on December 20, 1860, unanimously passed an ordinance of secession, and during January and February six other States had followed. Early in February the Confederate Government had been organized at Montgomery, Alabama, with Jefferson Davis as President. Holmes dated this poem March 25, 1861. four days later the New President of the United States, Abraham Lincoln, ordered relief to be sent to Fort Sumter in Charleston Harbor. On April 12th the attack on Sumter was made, and the war begun. How fully the sentiment of brotherhood here expressed by Holmes has been realized among the American people it has been the purpose of the Introduct
hase of the great contest Lincoln in June, 1860—two months after Volk made the life mask Gilder, whose poem opposite was inspired by the mask, was always particulary attracted to it, and kept a copy of it in his editorial sanctum at the Century Magazine offices. In 1860, Lincoln had been a national figure only two years, since his campaign against Stephen A. Douglas for the Senate in Illinois. Indeed, his name meant little in the East till the early months of this very year. In February, he had appeared before a New York audience at Cooper Union to explain the purposes of the recently organized Republican party. The larger part of those present expected something wild and woolly—certainly nothing of much moment for the cultivated citizens of the East. When they saw the gaunt figure, six feet four inches tall, the large feet and clumsy hands, the jutting eyebrows and small blue eyes, the narrow forehead surmounted by the shock of unkempt hair—in a word, the man of the pho<
y slave, That lived for many a year; But now he's dead, and in his grave, No master does he fear. Chorus— The poor old slave has gone to rest, We know that he is free; Disturb him not but let him rest, Way down in Tennessee. When this cruel war is over With the quaint style of hair-dressing that ruled in 1864, in flowered skirt and ‘Garibaldi blouse,’ this beautiful woman, the wife of a Federal army officer, was photographed in front of the winter quarters of Captain John R. Coxe, in February, at the headquarters of the Army of the Potomac, Brandy Station. She was even then looking at her soldier husband, who sat near her in his ‘suit of blue,’ or perhaps thinking of the three years of terrific fighting that had passed. Shiloh, Chickamauga, Chattanooga, Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, Gettysburg-all of these had been fought and the toll of the ‘cruel war’ was not yet complete. Negro spirituals Some of the negro chants or spirituals are particularly interesting
February 6th (search for this): chapter 2
hat day the whole North was steeled to live up to the spirit of Holmes' poem. The officers' quarters where the fire started The shattered flagstaff (to the right) Separation and reunion: brother Jonathan's lament for sister Caroline Both a record and a prophecy are contained in these lines by the New England poet, Oliver Wendell Holmes. A state convention meeting in Charleston had on December 20, 1860, unanimously passed an ordinance of secession, and during January and February six other States had followed. Early in February the Confederate Government had been organized at Montgomery, Alabama, with Jefferson Davis as President. Holmes dated this poem March 25, 1861. four days later the New President of the United States, Abraham Lincoln, ordered relief to be sent to Fort Sumter in Charleston Harbor. On April 12th the attack on Sumter was made, and the war begun. How fully the sentiment of brotherhood here expressed by Holmes has been realized among the American
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