The Battle of Gettysburg: An Historical Account |
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1st New York 2d United 4th United A. P. Hill ABNER DOUBLEDAY ADELBERT AMES Alabama Regiment army artillery attack battalions battle battle-field Brigade.-Captain BRIGADIER-GENERAL Buford Captain Carlisle Cavalry Corps cavalry division Cemetery Hill Centreville Chambersburg Colonel Colonel Charles Colonel Henry Colonel J. B. Colonel James Colonel John Colonel William Commanding wounded Confederate Corps marched Culp's Hill Doubleday Edwards Ferry Eleventh Corps Emmettsburg enemy Ewell Fifth Corps fight fire flank Frederick City Georgia Regiment Gettysburg guns Harrisburg Heth hundred Jersey July 1st JUNE killed Lee's Lieut Lieut.-Colonel Lieut.-Colonel John Lieutenant Little Round Top Longstreet Louisiana Regiment Major MAJOR-GENERAL Massachusetts Meade miles Mummasburg North Carolina North Carolina Regiment Pennsylvania Reserves Pickett Plum Run position Potomac Reynolds road Rock Creek Second Brigade.-Colonel Second Corps Seminary Ridge SILAS COLGROVE Sixth Corps soldiers South Station Steinwehr Taneytown Third Brigade.-Colonel Third Corps Thomas troops Twelfth Corps United States Infantry Virginia Regiment
Popular passages
Page 106 - It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us ; that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to the cause for which they here gave the last full measure of devotion ; that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain ; that the nation shall, under God, have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.
Page 110 - While on the left — where now the graves Undulate like the living waves That all that day unceasing swept Up to the pits the rebels kept — Round shot ploughed the upland glades, Sown with bullets, reaped with blades ; Shattered fences here and there Tossed their splinters in the air; The very trees were stripped and bare; The barns that once held yellow grain Were heaped with harvests of the slain...
Page 115 - Yet did I never breathe its pure serene Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold: Then felt I like some watcher of the skies When a new planet swims into his ken; Or like stout Cortez when with eagle eyes He stared at the Pacific — and all his men Looked at each other with a wild surmise — Silent, upon a peak in Darien.
Page 111 - Just where the tide of battle turns, Erect and lonely, stood old John Burns. How do you think the man was dressed? He wore an ancient, long buff vest, Yellow as saffron,— but his best; And buttoned over his manly breast Was a bright blue coat with a rolling collar, And large gilt buttons, — size of a dollar, — With tails that the country-folk called "swaller.
Page 110 - The milk that fell like a babbling flood Into the milk-pail red as blood ! Or how he fancied the hum of bees Were bullets buzzing among the trees. But all such fanciful thoughts as these Were strange to a practical man...
Page 112 - Until, as they gazed, there crept an awe Through the ranks in whispers, and some men saw In the antique vestments and long white hair, The Past of the Nation in battle there; And some of the soldiers since declare That the gleam of his old white hat afar, Like the crested plume of the brave Navarre, That day was their oriflamme of war.
Page 111 - Spake in the old man's strong right hand ; And his corded throat, and the lurking frown Of his eyebrows under his old bell-crown ; Until, as they gazed, there crept an awe Through the ranks in whispers, and some men saw, In the antique vestments and long white hair, The Past of the Nation in battle there...
Page 111 - He wore an ancient long buff vest, Yellow as saffron, — but his best ; And, buttoned over his manly breast, Was a bright blue coat, with a rolling collar, And large gilt buttons, — size of a dollar, — With tails that the country-folk called "swaller.
Page 110 - Looking down the village street, Where, in the shade of his peaceful vine, He heard the low of his gathered kine, And felt their breath with incense sweet. Or I might say when the sunset burned The old farm gable, he thought it turned The milk...
Page 111 - Guard mustered in — Glanced as they passed at the hat he wore, Then at the rifle his right hand bore, And hailed him from out their youthful lore, With scraps of a slangy repertoire: "How are you, White Hat?" "Put her through!" "Your head's level !" and, "Bully for you !" Called him "Daddy