I’ve never seen this pairing in real life, but evidently folks at the Flower Mart in Baltimore’s Mount Vernon Place fancied a peppermint inserted in a lemon as refreshment. I mean, I guess if they ran out of Coke, it makes sense.
It’s June 2, 1864. Photographer Tim O’Sullivan has taken to the steeple of Bethesda Church in Virginia to capture this image of Ulysses S. Grant (between the trees), listening to a report by Colonel Bowers (reading at the far right, inside the circle). On Grant’s right is General Horace Porter (reading a newspaper), and on his left is General Rawlins, chief of staff. Here’s a closer look.
In the next image, Grant has risen, walked around the church pews, and is leaning over Meade’s shoulders, consulting a map. Shortly afterward, he will write out orders for the battle of Cold Harbor the next day.
Per www.britannica.com,
Minor skirmishes followed by delays began on 31 May, but the main attack occurred on 3 June, when Grant launched a frontal assault on Confederate defenses. He believed that Lee’s men were overextended, but Lee had taken advantage of a delay in Grant’s assault to bring in reinforcements and improve his fortifications. The result of his preparations was carnage; the advancing Union troops were soon felled, with those making it through the first line of defenses soon being slaughtered at the second. More than 7,000 Union troops were killed or injured in one hour before Grant halted the attack.
For the next nine days, the two armies faced each other in opposite trenches, often only yards apart, until Grant marched off his army on 12 June to threaten the critical rail junction at Petersburg, near Richmond. His own comment on the battle: “I regret this assault more than any one I have ever ordered.”
After some time had passed, photographer John Reekie took this image of African-American men gathering bones of the dead soldiers.
Union: 1,844 dead, 9,077 wounded
Confederacy: 83 dead, 3,380 wounded
It’s August of 1864 at the Potomac headquarters, and Captain Charles Frances Adams, Jr, appears to have the best back support. He is flanked by officers of the 1st Massachusetts Cavalry. The man on the far left is unknown, the man sitting backwards in his chair is Capt. Edward A. Flint, and the far right is Lt. George H. Teague.
Adams was the great-grandson of United States President John Adams, and the grandson of president John Quincy Adams. John Quincy Adams was the earliest president to be photographed. Here is a daguerreotype taken by Brady in 1843.
He would die five years later. Isn’t it amazing to see an image of a man born in 1767? After he left office, Adams won a seat in the House of Representatives, becoming one of only two presidents to hold political office after serving in the White House (Andrew Johnson returned to the Senate shortly before he passed). During a passionate debate, Adams suffered a heart attack on the House floor and died a few days later.
In tandem with today’s other Andorra post, I share with you an Andorran coach, which visited three countries in 30 miles. Thirty miles, that’s precious. That’s like half a commute to work. Anyway, these folks were celebrating Patron Saint’s Day by driving up nauseatingly curvy dirt roads and then getting out and cavorting about in the heat. Fun!
While I can appreciate wanting to avoid unclean wine glasses–especially those still marked with lipstick from a previous drinker’s pout, that the busboy clearly overlooked–I cannot condone such risky business as this. Imagine drinking red wine from a Catalan porron!
But such are the ways of those from Andorra, a l’il, independent principality situated between France and Spain in the Pyrenees mountains. And no, I’ll never go there because money. Only 86K people live there. In my terms, it would take 11 Andorran populations to match the size of nearby Austin.
Maybe there’s something in the breeze that makes them peculiar in their oral fixations.
This souvenir cigar is two feet long, rolled at Sant Julia to sale for tourists to snatch up. It does seem burdensome to light, especially for certain people I know with little T-rex arms. Wouldn’t you get sick of puffing on this after awhile? And where on earth would you set it down? In the world’s largest ashtray? Certainly not in your pocket.
“Dog Land” was actually a thing. I’d pay money to go play with dogs.
For more information about Dog Land, click here. Will Shetterly is the son of Dog Land’s owners, and he even wrote a novel based on it.
I Don't Get It 