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Browsing named entities in a specific section of Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Poetry and Incidents., Volume 3. (ed. Frank Moore). Search the whole document.

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Old Granny Scott (search for this): chapter 255
said Old Nick, with a grin; “I have only stepped in To renew old acquaintance with your honor ag'in. How are Seward, and Scott, and good Mrs. L.? I hope all your friends are still hearty and well.” Thus saying, he seated himself in a chair, And gazthem your grounds of political creed; I gave you my subjects — the best I have got, Such as Cameron, and Seward, and Old Granny Scott; Assisted by Greeley, and Bennett, and Weed, As miserable scoundrels as Tophet could breed, To fix up a plan for p, and reaping the chaff.” “What say you to this?” cried Old Nick, waxing hot. Quoth President Lincoln, “You must ask General Scott.” “Old Scott's an old ass, and Seward to boot; And as for yourself, you're a pitiful brute, Too mean to let live, anins to hell;-- I have finished my mission. Farewell-farewell! “ Thus saying, he left in a moment of time, And wound up his speech, where I wind up my rhyme; He left General Scott in a passion and worry-- Old Abe in a fit, and hi
Greeley (search for this): chapter 255
you the kingdoms which I would bestow, If you and your party would only agree To fall down in worship and homage to me; Obey my directions, fulfil my commands, Spread carnage and death over all these lands, By a horrible warfare, such as would win Success to my cause, and a triumph to sin. To all of these terms you most promptly agreed, And made them your grounds of political creed; I gave you my subjects — the best I have got, Such as Cameron, and Seward, and Old Granny Scott; Assisted by Greeley, and Bennett, and Weed, As miserable scoundrels as Tophet could breed, To fix up a plan for preserving the Union, In the bonds of a happy fraternal communion, By a terrible warfare of conquest and blood, Such as never was known since the day of the flood. I gave you my minions from the purlieus of hell, The ranks of your fearful grand army to swell; I stirred up the North with its vagabond crew, And set witch-burning Yankeedom all in a stew, With its isms and schisms — fanatical trappings-
Beauregard (search for this): chapter 255
its people a heritage of shame; You have murdered its glory and pride at a blow, And filled its proud cities with wailing and woe. The avenger is coming. O'er your dark future path Is brooding a storm of terrible wrath. The wrongs of oppression, the blood of the slain, The pleadings of widows for their lost ones again, The cries of the poor, all starving for bread, The curse of the nation, overwhelming with dread, Shall break like an avalanche full on your head. “Then woe to the day when Beauregard comes With his fiery legions from their Southern homes; When the roar of their guns shall fill you with fright, And the flash of their sabres shall gleam on your sight. Ah! then shall you sink to a merciless tomb, And the shouts of their triumph shall herald your doom. Your fate is now writ by the hand on the wall: O'er your house on the sand the bleak tempest shall fall, And sweep you away in its ruins to hell;-- I have finished my mission. Farewell-farewell! “ Thus saying, he left in
Trimble (search for this): chapter 255
w, With its isms and schisms — fanatical trappings-- Its free-loving humbugs, and spiritual rappings: I called out its teachers, (Hypocritical preachers,) And demagogue screechers, To martial your leaders to conquest and fame; But, alas! to your shame, No victory came, But reproach and disgrace on the whole Yankee name. Your armies went forth, but not to the battle-- They went forth to plunder the fields of their cattle; To steal the young chickens, and capture the hens, (Like William Come-Trimble-Too, ) and put 'em in pens. In the pages of history, no loftier place Can be claimed for your thieving and cowardly race, Than to tell they were valiant in stealing a hen, But ran in confusion from the presence of men. When at last your Grand Army was forced to a fight, They were routed, defeated, and driven in flight, Overwhelmed with confusion, from the plains of Manassas, Like a miserable pack of terrified asses. Was't for this I labored with vigilant toil, To sow tares of contention all
Weed (search for this): chapter 255
would bestow, If you and your party would only agree To fall down in worship and homage to me; Obey my directions, fulfil my commands, Spread carnage and death over all these lands, By a horrible warfare, such as would win Success to my cause, and a triumph to sin. To all of these terms you most promptly agreed, And made them your grounds of political creed; I gave you my subjects — the best I have got, Such as Cameron, and Seward, and Old Granny Scott; Assisted by Greeley, and Bennett, and Weed, As miserable scoundrels as Tophet could breed, To fix up a plan for preserving the Union, In the bonds of a happy fraternal communion, By a terrible warfare of conquest and blood, Such as never was known since the day of the flood. I gave you my minions from the purlieus of hell, The ranks of your fearful grand army to swell; I stirred up the North with its vagabond crew, And set witch-burning Yankeedom all in a stew, With its isms and schisms — fanatical trappings-- Its free-loving humbugs
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