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 descending order. Sort in ascending order.

hide Most Frequent Entities

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

Entity Max. Freq Min. Freq
Seth Wyman 61 1 Browse Search
Joseph Phipps 44 0 Browse Search
Samuel Phipps 43 1 Browse Search
Philemon Russell 36 0 Browse Search
Samuel Gardner 32 0 Browse Search
Ship Island (Mississippi, United States) 30 0 Browse Search
Samuel Kent 28 0 Browse Search
Charles D. Elliot 28 0 Browse Search
Frank Mortimer Hawes 26 0 Browse Search
James F. Whitney 26 0 Browse Search
View all entities in this document...

Browsing named entities in a specific section of Historic leaves, volume 4, April, 1905 - January, 1906. Search the whole document.

Found 135 total hits in 46 results.

1 2 3 4 5
Mars (search for this): chapter 7
t volume, for I knew something was going to happen. Just then a sea struck the ship under the counter, lifted her endwise, and dropped her so suddenly that the would-be commander sat down, in his best clothes, in the not over-clean water. I turned my head to wipe away tears—or was it the dirty water he had splashed in my face?—and then sympathetically remarked, You have dropped something, sir. He disappeared so quickly that I failed to get more than a mental photograph of the young son of Mars, and the water closed over a stern reality. At eight o'clock, after four hours bailing, we were relieved and treated to a breakfast fit for the gods. As I presented my tin cup and plate to the black knight at the galley, he poured half a pint of coffee into my cup and deposited one boiled potato in the centre of my ten-inch plate—sans salt, sans pepper, sans everything. I declare, on the honor of a soldier, that I never before saw a boiled potato look so, utterly lonesome. I think that <
Lincoln (search for this): chapter 7
terrible necessity! But it must be met. Yours affectionately, Levi. But there is a long gap between this period and the beginning of my history. In 1833 two notable events occurred. First, the Anti-Slavery Society was born. Then, according to the record—which I have been assured is absolutely correct—a boy was born in the town of Union, Me., Lincoln county (now Knox), adjoining Hope, adjoining Liberty, and in process of time this boy necessarily became, in the main, a hopeful union, Lincoln, liberty-loving, American citizen. On that April day, when a gun-carriage went rumbling past my store, corner Beacon and Tremont streets, bearing the bodies of Ladd and Whitney, killed in Baltimore, I recorded a vow. As soon thereafter as possible, I turned the key on my mercantile business, and on the twenty-first day of October, 1861, my name was writ large on the enlistment roll; and from that date my time and means were devoted to the business of inducing men to enlist in the Thirtee
Ladd (search for this): chapter 7
events occurred. First, the Anti-Slavery Society was born. Then, according to the record—which I have been assured is absolutely correct—a boy was born in the town of Union, Me., Lincoln county (now Knox), adjoining Hope, adjoining Liberty, and in process of time this boy necessarily became, in the main, a hopeful union, Lincoln, liberty-loving, American citizen. On that April day, when a gun-carriage went rumbling past my store, corner Beacon and Tremont streets, bearing the bodies of Ladd and Whitney, killed in Baltimore, I recorded a vow. As soon thereafter as possible, I turned the key on my mercantile business, and on the twenty-first day of October, 1861, my name was writ large on the enlistment roll; and from that date my time and means were devoted to the business of inducing men to enlist in the Thirteenth Maine Regiment, which was to be attached to General Butler's division for special service,—until the regiment was mustered into the United States service at the arsen<
Knox (search for this): chapter 7
y go. And does not the providence of God indicate that it is my duty to rally for the strife? Oh, the terrible, the thrice terrible necessity! But it must be met. Yours affectionately, Levi. But there is a long gap between this period and the beginning of my history. In 1833 two notable events occurred. First, the Anti-Slavery Society was born. Then, according to the record—which I have been assured is absolutely correct—a boy was born in the town of Union, Me., Lincoln county (now Knox), adjoining Hope, adjoining Liberty, and in process of time this boy necessarily became, in the main, a hopeful union, Lincoln, liberty-loving, American citizen. On that April day, when a gun-carriage went rumbling past my store, corner Beacon and Tremont streets, bearing the bodies of Ladd and Whitney, killed in Baltimore, I recorded a vow. As soon thereafter as possible, I turned the key on my mercantile business, and on the twenty-first day of October, 1861, my name was writ large on t
Hesseltine (search for this): chapter 7
lived in tents half buried in snow, often drilling in snow knee deep, with the mercury at or below zero, till February 18, 1862, at which date we dug ourselves out of several feet of snow and ice and took train for Boston. About midnight we found ourselves in the Cradle of Liberty, where, it was supposed, we were to be rocked to sleep, but I don't remember to have seen a single sleeping soldier that night. On the twentieth a battalion of the regiment (four companies) (Colonel Dow and Major Hesseltine) was marched to Long wharf and down between decks of the good steamship Mississippi, in which for many days and nights we were literally rocked to sleep. (The six companies of the regiment, Lieutenant-Colonel Rust commanding, sailed from New York.) The next day our voyage began, and before it ended the boys experienced all the charms of life on the ocean wave, and a home on the rolling deep. As we rolled and pitched on the passage to Fort Monroe, many a luckless soldier went skating d
Levi Lindley Hawes (search for this): chapter 7
Personal Experience of a Union Veteran By Levi Lindley Hawes About 12 o'clock one August night in 1862, as I sat in my tent at Fort Jackson, La., making out a Post Return—or perhaps writing to the girl I left behind me—I was interrupted by the nds sticking through different parts of the mass of nearly wrecked cordage. I knew something had happened, but which was Hawes and which was hawser I was too badly twisted and tangled to determine. What would my mother think of me now? I soliloquigorous kicking, wriggling, clawing, and sundry other manoeuvres I shuffled that hempen coil, and finding that I was not Hawes de combat, nor my zeal dampened (but with some loss of dignity as a soldier), I went in search of less tight-fitting and was scared, not sick.) As the officer of the day disappeared a staff officer dashed into our camp and inquired for Sergeant Hawes. Presenting myself, the officer said, The general's compliments, and he orders that you report forthwith at headquar
Glisson (search for this): chapter 7
unboat Mount Vernon, on blockade duty off Cape Fear river. She had fortunately seen the flash of our gun, but was too far off to hear the report, and immediately started to investigate. Imagination alone can picture forth our feelings of relief at having a United States gun-boat between us and the rebel fort at the mouth of Cape Fear river—not to mention the rising wind and muttering sea, which would soon reduce the good ship Mississippi to a scrap heap unless relieved at flood tide. Captain Glisson of the Mt. Vernon shook his head as hawser after hawser parted in his efforts to pull us off. You have, perhaps, one chance in a million, said the captain, to float your ship. To save his own ship he was obliged to haul off to deeper water, for he had touched bottom several times. Meanwhile our engine was working full steam ahead. The quartermaster and I were forward charged with heaving the lead. As a precaution troops were being transferred to the Mt. Vernon, for there was slight
Neal Dow (search for this): chapter 7
31, 1861. Here we lived in tents half buried in snow, often drilling in snow knee deep, with the mercury at or below zero, till February 18, 1862, at which date we dug ourselves out of several feet of snow and ice and took train for Boston. About midnight we found ourselves in the Cradle of Liberty, where, it was supposed, we were to be rocked to sleep, but I don't remember to have seen a single sleeping soldier that night. On the twentieth a battalion of the regiment (four companies) (Colonel Dow and Major Hesseltine) was marched to Long wharf and down between decks of the good steamship Mississippi, in which for many days and nights we were literally rocked to sleep. (The six companies of the regiment, Lieutenant-Colonel Rust commanding, sailed from New York.) The next day our voyage began, and before it ended the boys experienced all the charms of life on the ocean wave, and a home on the rolling deep. As we rolled and pitched on the passage to Fort Monroe, many a luckless sol
Butler (search for this): chapter 7
were devoted to the business of inducing men to enlist in the Thirteenth Maine Regiment, which was to be attached to General Butler's division for special service,—until the regiment was mustered into the United States service at the arsenal in Augus ordered a peremptory halt. The order to halt was not always obeyed with such alacrity. At Fort Monroe we received General Butler and staff. We had previously discovered that the Thirty-first Massachusetts Regiment was stowed somewhere down forwaport anchor had been let go, notwithstanding the fact that that end of the ship was already stuck fast in the mud. As General Butler came on deck he asked the captain, What's that? pointing to the flag, Union down, in the port fore rigging. Flag ofice of being drowned in an iron kettle or vacating their quarters. No deaths by drowning were reported. Doubtless General Butler comprehended the gravity of the situation, but he was outwardly cool and collected during the entire day, and activel
February 28th, 1862 AD (search for this): chapter 7
e would allow. I have been on the rocks off an inhospitable coast of South America, and on a lee shore elsewhere, but perhaps this was the most trying situation of all, because in this case infinitely more was involved. Although the situation seemed desperate I never lost courage for a moment. From my diary I have written out somewhat in detail an account of our experience on Frying-Pan Shoals; but to-night I can give you only a glimpse of what stared us in the face on that twenty-eighth day of February, 1862. Of course I had but a superficial knowledge of our surroundings, but the school had been opened and I was in the mood to put myself in training. To my amazement I found that the port anchor had been let go, notwithstanding the fact that that end of the ship was already stuck fast in the mud. As General Butler came on deck he asked the captain, What's that? pointing to the flag, Union down, in the port fore rigging. Flag of distress, said the skipper. Can you display it
1 2 3 4 5