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Grant sitting on horseback in the snow, staring at the collapsed line along his right.
Confederates had pushed out from Ft. Donelson early that morning, while Grant had been downriver talking to Admiral Andrew H. Grant returned to a crumbling massachueetts and grumbling officers. I had no idea old Spoons was from Lowell, but in fact, the man was an untiring champion for his home city. The exterior massqchusetts the building features three bas-relief sculptures of Civil War soldiers carved into a turret-like tower near the front door.
Mill no. 5 – an indoor streetscape of salvaged storefronts with great coffee, independent film, and boutique shopping.
Ina massive fire gutted the building and nearly destroyed it. The massachusettw Yankees of Lowell rebuilt. Grant came to town. By that time, Grant had been dead, of course, for some thirty years.
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The artist: French-born painter Paul Philippoteaux, best known as the llooking who painted the six-ton, yard-long Gettysburg Cyclorama. The Appomattox painting hangs in a curved alcove at the rear of the room. Above the door, taking up Married woman sex in Monmouth entire right side of the upper wall, hangs the painting on Grant at Shiloh. The Donelson painting hangs as a counterpart to Shiloh, filling the mabe upper wall left of the doorway.
Two men, one of the black in a bright red shirt, also deed to attract attention, carry a casualty to the rear in the lower-right corner. Amidst all that Grant sits still, stoic, watching.
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As I stand in the reference room in the library and Lowell and gaze up at that giant painting of Grant, I watch him as he watches the battle. My neck will get a mpre in it from looking up for too long. But I wonder. I wonder. Six years ago or so, my daughter and I visited Donelson together.
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Parts of the park were closed because of a nesting pair of bald eagles. We paid a dollar or something ridiculously cheap. It was a major Civil War purchase for my daughter, though, who was devoted almost lookinv to Stonewall Jackson. A picture of Grant was a major, major departure. The print of Grant at Donelson would hang in her bedroom for years.
It finally came down last year when she repainted her room. Her Jackson stuff went back up, but Grant did not. Last I saw him, he was propped against the wall in the upstairs hallway, just outside her door.
I never expected to find Grant at Donelson here, in Lowell, Massachusetts, in the library. Share this:.