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Frederick H. Dyer, Compendium of the War of the Rebellion: Regimental Histories 197 197 Browse Search
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 11. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones) 8 8 Browse Search
Harper's Encyclopedia of United States History (ed. Benson Lossing) 8 8 Browse Search
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 22. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones) 7 7 Browse Search
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 13. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones) 6 6 Browse Search
Horace Greeley, The American Conflict: A History of the Great Rebellion in the United States of America, 1860-65: its Causes, Incidents, and Results: Intended to exhibit especially its moral and political phases with the drift and progress of American opinion respecting human slavery from 1776 to the close of the War for the Union. Volume II. 6 6 Browse Search
Rebellion Record: a Diary of American Events: Documents and Narratives, Volume 4. (ed. Frank Moore) 6 6 Browse Search
G. S. Hillard, Life and Campaigns of George B. McClellan, Major-General , U. S. Army 6 6 Browse Search
Robert Underwood Johnson, Clarence Clough Buell, Battles and Leaders of the Civil War: The Opening Battles. Volume 1. 6 6 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Massachusetts in the Army and Navy during the war of 1861-1865, vol. 1, Condensed history of regiments. 6 6 Browse Search
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Browsing named entities in Henry Morton Stanley, Dorothy Stanley, The Autobiography of Sir Henry Morton Stanley. You can also browse the collection for March 8th or search for March 8th in all documents.

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Henry Morton Stanley, Dorothy Stanley, The Autobiography of Sir Henry Morton Stanley, part 2.13, chapter 2.19 (search)
oat; and you, you look like a born sailor, follow him; and you — heavens! what a back and muscles! You shall try them on the oars! And you, a very lion in the fight at Ituru! I love lions, and you shall roar with me to the wild waves of the Nyanza! And you, the springing antelope, ha! ha! you shall spring with me over the foaming surge! I selected eleven. Oh, you young fellows, I will make sailors of you, never fear! Get ready, we must be off within an hour. We set sail on the 8th of March. The sky was gloomy. The lake reflected its gloom, and was of the colour of ashy-grey. The shores were stern and rugged. My crew sighed dolorously, and rowed like men bound to certain death, often casting wistful looks at me, as though I shared their doubts, and would order a return, and confess that the preparations were only an elaborate joke. Five miles beyond our port we halted for the night at a fishing-village. A native — shock-headed, ugly, loutish, and ungainly in movement —<