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December 4th (search for this): chapter 7
ather an effort than otherwise to read the newspaper, or look at maps. You have had a vast deal more of excitement of the recent battles than we have. .... November 4, 1862. [After orders to move.]—There is a thousand times more chance of making a reputation in one of these expeditionary corps, than if we were swamped in the large mass of regiments in the Army of the Potomac. These outside movements will be like pictures in the one-day-to-be-written history of the war. . . . . December 4.—How does the old Academy flourish? I hope for the Allens' sake, excellently well. I must resign my secretaryship of the Board. Tell Ned he must be my successor, and he must enter my military rank in the records somehow. It will be the first instance of such a record among the Quakers. I won't resign my trusteeship, however. . . . . January 16, 1863.—Every day this week I have been attending a court-martial, . . . . and it is a great nuisance; for it takes me from my regiment, an<
December 5th (search for this): chapter 7
ot, I hope, to be revived in my day. . . . . November 10.—The last three days, talking over returns. Today we have accounts of terrible import from Charleston and Savannah. They will have to submit to the will of the majority in the Union, or go to everlasting smash out of it. My own idea is, that, however the South may fume, fret, and bluster, just now, they will be very calm before next March. . . . . November 13.—Papers still full of Southern secession nonsense. . . . . December 5.—I cannot feel that this great confederacy is to be destroyed just yet, and I don't like to contemplate the fearful ruin that must overtake the South if they pursue their mad scheme. . . . . December 10.—Put on my skates this afternoon. Am aching all over. Two hundred and fifteen pounds is a heavy weight to be supported on two one-eighth-inch irons, but I love to mingle in these gay crowds. . . . . December 17.—Wonder what South Carolina is doing. Skating. . . . . Dece
December 10th (search for this): chapter 7
the will of the majority in the Union, or go to everlasting smash out of it. My own idea is, that, however the South may fume, fret, and bluster, just now, they will be very calm before next March. . . . . November 13.—Papers still full of Southern secession nonsense. . . . . December 5.—I cannot feel that this great confederacy is to be destroyed just yet, and I don't like to contemplate the fearful ruin that must overtake the South if they pursue their mad scheme. . . . . December 10.—Put on my skates this afternoon. Am aching all over. Two hundred and fifteen pounds is a heavy weight to be supported on two one-eighth-inch irons, but I love to mingle in these gay crowds. . . . . December 17.—Wonder what South Carolina is doing. Skating. . . . . December 28.—Great stir yesterday, owing to the despatch that Major Anderson had evacuated and destroyed Fort Moultrie. Some of the people talk blood and warfare, but this is easy talking far away from the prob
December 17th (search for this): chapter 7
r 13.—Papers still full of Southern secession nonsense. . . . . December 5.—I cannot feel that this great confederacy is to be destroyed just yet, and I don't like to contemplate the fearful ruin that must overtake the South if they pursue their mad scheme. . . . . December 10.—Put on my skates this afternoon. Am aching all over. Two hundred and fifteen pounds is a heavy weight to be supported on two one-eighth-inch irons, but I love to mingle in these gay crowds. . . . . December 17.—Wonder what South Carolina is doing. Skating. . . . . December 28.—Great stir yesterday, owing to the despatch that Major Anderson had evacuated and destroyed Fort Moultrie. Some of the people talk blood and warfare, but this is easy talking far away from the probable scenes of danger. . . . . January 25, 1861.—What a short-sighted babydom prevails in Boston. The Mayor fears W. Phillips and the Abolitionists will make a riot, and so closes the Anti-slavery Convention.
December 28th (search for this): chapter 7
mber 5.—I cannot feel that this great confederacy is to be destroyed just yet, and I don't like to contemplate the fearful ruin that must overtake the South if they pursue their mad scheme. . . . . December 10.—Put on my skates this afternoon. Am aching all over. Two hundred and fifteen pounds is a heavy weight to be supported on two one-eighth-inch irons, but I love to mingle in these gay crowds. . . . . December 17.—Wonder what South Carolina is doing. Skating. . . . . December 28.—Great stir yesterday, owing to the despatch that Major Anderson had evacuated and destroyed Fort Moultrie. Some of the people talk blood and warfare, but this is easy talking far away from the probable scenes of danger. . . . . January 25, 1861.—What a short-sighted babydom prevails in Boston. The Mayor fears W. Phillips and the Abolitionists will make a riot, and so closes the Anti-slavery Convention. Boston gentlemen, or rather, Boston snobbery, must stop the mouths of the r
March 7th, 1822 AD (search for this): chapter 7
no profession, developed no marked ambition. He was satisfied, perhaps too easily, with the competence and the pleasant surroundings to which he was born; and, retiring after graduation to his native city, he passed twenty years so quietly that his name was hardly mentioned beyond it, save among a small inner circle of his early companions, until the war called him forth for duty and for death. William Logan Rodman was the only son of Benjamin and Susan (Morgan) Rodman, and was born March 7, 1822. He was descended, on the mother's side, from a prominent family in Philadelphia, and on the father's side from a line of worthy ancestors, all members of the Society of Friends, and numbering in their ranks the most influential merchants and ship-owners of Nantucket and New Bedford. Joseph Rotch, his great-great-grandfather, William Rotch, his great-grandfather, Samuel Rodman, his grandfather, were all men of uncommon character and ability, who left a permanent impression on the comm
1836 AD (search for this): chapter 7
1842. William Logan Rodman. Major 38th Mass. Vols. (Infantry), August 19, 1862; Lieutenant-Colonel December 4, 1862; killed at Port Hudson, La., May 27, 1863. the many Boston and Cambridge boys who met thirty years ago at the boarding-school of that fine old-fashioned Englishman, William Wells, in the near neighborhood of Harvard University, can hardly have forgotten one schoolmate who came among us from New Bedford, in the year 1836. He was a large, heavy, rather unwieldy boy, of great personal strength and rather indolent habit, who possessed, by reason of physical proportions, a kind of brevet seniority among his compeers. Neither genius nor the reverse, neither eminent saint nor prominent sinner, he earned a permanent sobriquet from his size, and left behind him chiefly an impression of inertia, of good nature, and of good sense. But those whose acquaintance with him continued through college life will also remember how that cumbrous frame gradually developed int
1838 AD (search for this): chapter 7
le capacity, uprightness, and benevolence, and of physical appearance so striking as to attract attention everywhere. All Boston, said his friend Josiah Bradlee, of that city, would turn out to see Samuel Rodman walk down State Street. Something of this personal prestige belonged to his grandson, in middle life, as a mounted officer. William Rodman spent five years at Friends' Academy in New Bedford, and two years under the care of Mr. William Wells. He entered college with his class in 1838, and graduated in 1842. He soon began mercantile life, being at first chiefly engaged in the oil trade. In 1849, during the California excitement, he sailed for San Francisco in the ship Florida, part of which he owned; but he went before the mast, and did his full share of the ship's duty. Leaving the vessel at that port, he returned home by way of Calcutta and Europe, having been absent about two years in all. This was his only prolonged absence from home until he entered the army. Du
1842 AD (search for this): chapter 7
1842. William Logan Rodman. Major 38th Mass. Vols. (Infantry), August 19, 1862; Lieutenant-Colonel December 4, 1862; killed at Port Hudson, La., May 27, 1863. the many Boston and Cambridge boys who met thirty years ago at the boarding-school of that fine old-fashioned Englishman, William Wells, in the near neighborhood of Harvard University, can hardly have forgotten one schoolmate who came among us from New Bedford, in the year 1836. He was a large, heavy, rather unwieldy boy, of belonged to his grandson, in middle life, as a mounted officer. William Rodman spent five years at Friends' Academy in New Bedford, and two years under the care of Mr. William Wells. He entered college with his class in 1838, and graduated in 1842. He soon began mercantile life, being at first chiefly engaged in the oil trade. In 1849, during the California excitement, he sailed for San Francisco in the ship Florida, part of which he owned; but he went before the mast, and did his full sh
1849 AD (search for this): chapter 7
re. All Boston, said his friend Josiah Bradlee, of that city, would turn out to see Samuel Rodman walk down State Street. Something of this personal prestige belonged to his grandson, in middle life, as a mounted officer. William Rodman spent five years at Friends' Academy in New Bedford, and two years under the care of Mr. William Wells. He entered college with his class in 1838, and graduated in 1842. He soon began mercantile life, being at first chiefly engaged in the oil trade. In 1849, during the California excitement, he sailed for San Francisco in the ship Florida, part of which he owned; but he went before the mast, and did his full share of the ship's duty. Leaving the vessel at that port, he returned home by way of Calcutta and Europe, having been absent about two years in all. This was his only prolonged absence from home until he entered the army. During the intermediate period his life was quiet and uneventful. He participated moderataly in business life, and
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