hide Matching Documents

The documents where this entity occurs most often are shown below. Click on a document to open it.

Document Max. Freq Min. Freq
Frederick H. Dyer, Compendium of the War of the Rebellion: Regimental Histories 477 477 Browse Search
William F. Fox, Lt. Col. U. S. V., Regimental Losses in the American Civil War, 1861-1865: A Treatise on the extent and nature of the mortuary losses in the Union regiments, with full and exhaustive statistics compiled from the official records on file in the state military bureaus and at Washington 422 422 Browse Search
Harper's Encyclopedia of United States History (ed. Benson Lossing) 227 227 Browse Search
George Bancroft, History of the United States from the Discovery of the American Continent, Vol. 6, 10th edition. 51 51 Browse Search
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events, Diary from December 17, 1860 - April 30, 1864 (ed. Frank Moore) 50 50 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Massachusetts in the Army and Navy during the war of 1861-1865, vol. 1, Mass. officers and men who died. 46 46 Browse Search
Francis Jackson Garrison, William Lloyd Garrison, 1805-1879; the story of his life told by his children: volume 3 45 45 Browse Search
George Bancroft, History of the United States from the Discovery of the American Continent, Vol. 5, 13th edition. 43 43 Browse Search
George Bancroft, History of the United States from the Discovery of the American Continent, Vol. 7, 4th edition. 35 35 Browse Search
George Bancroft, History of the United States from the Discovery of the American Continent, Vol. 8 35 35 Browse Search
View all matching documents...

Browsing named entities in George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard). You can also browse the collection for September or search for September in all documents.

Your search returned 4 results in 4 document sections:

George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard), Chapter 7: (search)
ty. As it was not sunset, he carried us out to see the grounds of the convent. It stands on the highest part of the passage, but still in a sort of valley, between mountains two or three thousand feet higher than itself, whose summits are bright with eternal snows. Near it is a little lake, said to be about thirty feet deep, and on its borders, under the shelter of its high, rocky banks, the monks have placed some earth that they have brought up the mountain . . . . and in the months of September and August they are able, with great care and difficulty, to raise a little lettuce and spinach . . . . . On the very summit of the road winds a brook, with a stone laid across it, divided by a line in the centre, and marked on each side with the arms of Savoy and the Valais; it is the boundary between the two powers, and, for the first time, I found myself on Italian ground, and could not choose but exclaim, with the son of Aeneas, Italiam, Italiam! for I seemed at once to have reached a
George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard), Chapter 10: (search)
known where they have sold everything they possessed in the world to get it; and. . . . I was shown a man who was so absolutely destitute of all means, that he married the evening previous, as the only way of obtaining them. Nothing, in short, can hinder them, not even the heats, which hinder everything, and almost bring life itself to a pause in Madrid; and if they cannot get seats on the shady side of the amphitheatre, they will sit in the sun during one of the burning noons of July and September; and do it so heedlessly, that the first bull-fights given after the dog-days this year sent a crowd of patients to the hospital, thirty-eight of whom died within ten days afterwards of fevers caught there. Nor are these the only fatal effects. The interest the common people take in everything relating to this festival rises afterwards, at any moment of excitement, to passion and guilt. Quarrels arise about a favorite picador or banderillero, that are never appeased; the details of on
George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard), Chapter 12: (search)
libraries. . . . . But, though I should pass over everything else, I must not pass over Cintra. To this beautiful spot I went with my friend Sir John Campbell, and we passed there three days, at the festival of San Martinho, when all the country was rejoicing in the balmy freshness of a second spring, and all the fields and valleys were filled with flowers, as they are with us in the month of May. This singular phenomenon I have been witnessing ever since the rains fell in the end of September; for since then, the earth has been putting on its gayest hues again, so that now, when the second spring, as it is here called, may be considered in its perfection, everything, even to the lilies and roses and lilacs, is in blossom. Cintra, therefore, was exquisitely beautiful. It is the height first descried on approaching this coast, and is called by the sailors the Rock of Lisbon. You approach it from the city by a road that offers occasionally a few fine prospects; but you are obli
George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard), Chapter 14: (search)
arch, almost seventy years old, and I certainly could not have put myself into better hands. You see, my dear father, that I have already begun to do what you desired, and I shall go on until it is finished. In five weeks, I think nothing will remain to be done in Edinburgh, and then I shall go, by the way of Oxford, to London, finish what I have to do there, and embark in the first good ship. . . . . Farewell. George. The following passage was added to the Journal in the succeeding September:— On the night of the 10th of February I reached Edinburgh. I entered no capital of Europe with a lighter heart and more confident expectations of enjoyment. .. . . . And yet it was there I was destined to meet the severest suffering my life had yet known. On the 11th I received letters announcing the death of my mother on the 31st of December. . . . The first anguish of the reflection that I was not with her was almost more than I could bear. It seemed to me that I had done wrong i