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1Author:  Patton John S. (John Shelton) 1857-1932Requires cookie*
 Title:  Jefferson, Cabell and the University of Virginia  
 Published:  2005 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text 
 Description: Until the dawn of the eighteenth century education in Virginia was a special privilege. It was for clergymen and gentlemen,—distinct, as elements,— while the sons of the common people, a term then in frequent use, were well enough employed in making tobacco. The planter who had Madeira in his cellar almost certainly had a tutor in his library for the intellectual behoof of his children; or he sent his sons to Princeton or to the universities of the mother country. The offspring of less fortunate folk grew up in an atmosphere in which Madeira, the clergy, and the pedagogue were little known.
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2Author:  Taine Hippolyte 1828-1893Requires cookie*
 Title:  The Philosophy of Art  
 Published:  2005 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text 
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3Author:  Schéfer GastonRequires cookie*
 Title:  Goupil's Paris Salon of 1897  
 Published:  2004 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text 
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4Author:  McGuire Judith W. (Judith White)Requires cookie*
 Title:  Diary of a Southern Refugee During the War  
 Published:  2005 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text 
 Description: At Home, May 4, 1861.—I am too nervous, too wretched to-day to write in my diary, but that the employment will while away a few moments of this trying time. Our friends and neighbors have left us. Every thing is broken up. The Theological Seminary is closed; the High School dismissed. Scarcely any one is left of the many families which surrounded us. The homes all look desolate; and yet this beautiful country is looking more peaceful, more lovely than ever, as if to rebuke the tumult of passion and the fanaticism of man. We are left lonely indeed; our children are all gone— the girls to Clarke, where they may be safer, and farther from the exciting scenes which may too soon surround us; and the boys, the dear, dear boys, to the camp, to be drilled and prepared to meet any emergency. Can it be that our country is to be carried on and on to the horrors of civil war? I pray, oh how fervently do I pray, that our Heavenly Father may yet avert it. I shut my eyes and hold my breath when the thought of what may come upon us obtrudes itself; and yet I cannot believe it. It will, I know the breach will be healed without the effusion of blood. The taking of Sumter without bloodshed has somewhat DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. soothed my fears, though I am told by those who are wiser than I, that men must fall on both sides by the score, by the hundred, and even by the thousand. But it is not my habit to look on the dark side, so I try hard to employ myself, and hope for the best. To-day our house seems so deserted, that I feel more sad than usual, for on this morning we took leave of our whole household. Mr. — and myself are now the sole occupants of the house, which usually teems with life. I go from room to room, looking at first one thing and then another, so full of sad associations. The closed piano, the locked bookcase, the nicely-arranged tables, the formally-placed chairs, ottomans and sofas in the parlor! Oh for some one to put them out of order! And then the dinner-table, which has always been so well surrounded, so social, so cheerful, looked so cheerless to-day, as we seated ourselves one at the head, the other at the foot, with one friend,—but one,—at the side. I could scarcely restrain my tears, and but for the presence of that one friend, I believe I should have cried outright. After dinner, I did not mean to do it, but I could not help going into the girls' room, and then into C.'s. I heard my own footsteps so plainly, that I was startled by the absence of all other sounds. There the furniture looked so quiet, the beds so fixed and smooth, the wardrobes and bureaux so tightly locked, and the whole so lifeless! But the writing-desks, work-boxes, and the numberless things so familiar to my eyes! Where were they? I paused, to ask myself what it all meant. Why did we think it necessary to send off all that was so dear to us from our own home? I threw open the shutters, and the answer came at once, so mournfully! I heard distinctly the drums beating in Washington. The evening was so still that I seemed to hear nothing else. As MAY, 1861. I looked at the Capitol in the distance, I could scarcely believe my senses. That Capitol of which I had always been so proud! Can it be possible that it is no longer our Capitol? And are our countrymen, under its very eaves, making mighty preparation to drain our hearts' blood? And must this Union, which I was taught to revere, be rent asunder? Once I thought such a suggestion sacrilege; but now that it is dismembered, I trust it may never, never be röunited. We must be a separate people—our nationality must be different, to insure lasting peace and good-will. Why cannot we part in peace? "My dear —— :—For the last four days we have never been longer than two hours in any one place, have slept upon the ground in good weather and bad, eaten nothing but crackers and fried bacon, and rested little at any time; for all of which privations and a thousand others we have been more than compensated (thanks to the just God who governs the councils of history and decrees the destiny of nations) in the glorious results of yesterday. On the morning of the 17th, we had received reliable information that the enemy was advancing, over 50,000 strong, and were not surprised, at five o'clock in the morning, to hear the fire of our pickets, who were slowly retiring before the advancing DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. foe. The order was given to pack. In ten minutes baggage was packed, tents struck, and the wagons driven to the rear; and the whole command forward to line of battle. In a few minutes the glittering bayonets of the enemy lined the neighbouring hills. From the heavy signal-guns being fired at intervals along our line—commencing at German town and stretching along to Fairfax Court-House—it wa evident that the enemy was endeavouring to surround ou little band; but our "Little Trump," as the men call Beauregard, was not to be taken by any such game. Every preparation was made to deceive the enemy, by inducing him to believe that we meditated a vigorous resistance Meantime our column defiled through a densely wooded road, and was far on the way to Centreville when the enemy discovered his mistake. He followed on very cautiously. To our troop, with Kemper's Battery, was assigned the post of honour, and charged with the duty of covering the retreat. We were the last to leave the village, and as we went out at one end of the street, his column appeared at the other. We halted at this place about four o'clock in the afternoon, and again made show of battle—slept until twelve o'clock at the heads of our horses. We silently left the place, the enemy's pickets being within hailing distance of our own. At daybreak we were across Bull Run, having marched very slowly to keep pace with the infantry. We found beds of leaves in the woods, wrapped ourselves in our blankets, and slept for an hour or two, until we were aroused by the roar of the enemy's guns as he opened his batteries upon our lines. For two mortal hours shot and shell flew thick along our whole line. This day's work was evidently intended only to draw the fire of our artillery, and show where our batteries were. In consequee of which our SEPTEMBER, 1861.3* gunners were ordered not to fire a single shot, unless within point-blank range. After thus opening the ball, two dense masses of infantry were sent to defile to the right and left, to make two separate attacks. It was indeed a beautiful sight as they came down in perfect order, and with the stealthy step of veterans. They came nearer and yet nearer, and yet no shot from our guns. Our men began to mutter, and say that we were preparing for another retreat. But in a few moments the appointed time arrived. A single shot from the Washington Artillery gave the signal of death, and for half an hour there was nothing but a continuous sheet of flame along the right of our lines. The enemy fell back, rallied, and charged again, with a like result. Again they rested, and rushed forward, but old Virginia was true to herself, and the gallant Seventeenth and Eighteenth Regiments charged them with the bayonet, and drove them back in utter confusion. The cavalry were held in reserve, and although within range of the artillery, and constantly experiencing the sensation which men may be supposed to indulge, who know there is a hidden danger hovering in the air, without knowing where it is to light, took no part in the action. Our time came yesterday, however. Our troop was for four hours in the hottest of the fight, and every man in it won the applause and approbation of the whole camp. The action commenced at eight o'clock on the sweet Sabbath morning. The enemy commenced with quite a heavy cannonade upon our right, which proved to be a mere feint, to distract our attention, as his main attack was directed to our left wing. At ten o'clock the enemy had crossed the river on our left, and then the fighting commenced in earnest. From the hill on which we stood, we could see, from the smoke and dust, though at DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. the distance of several miles, how the fight was waging on our left. Some thought the enemy was retreating; others that our men had fallen back. It was an hour of painful interest. At eleven o'clock an aid-de-camp rode up in a gallop, and said our men were retiring—the cavalry was ordered to the left. We were temporarily attached to Radford's regiment—ours was the first company, and mine was the first platoon. On we dashed in a gallop, and as we passed within range of a battery of rifled cannon a ball was fired at us which passed between Wickham and myself, knocking up a cloud of dust. Without wavering in their ranks, the men and horses dashed forward at a gallop. As we reached the scene of action the sight was discouraging in the extreme. The enemy had at first the advantage of every attacking party. He had concentrated his forces for an attack upon one point. The First Louisiana Regiment and the Fourth Alabama, attacked in flank and centre by 30,000 men, were literally cut to pieces. They refused to surrender, but retired slowly, disputing every inch of ground. As we rode up we could meet parts of companies which had been utterly overwhelmed—the men wounded, their arms broken, while some of them were carrying off their dead in blankets. Every thing looked like retreat. We were ordered up to within five hundred yards of the enemy's artillery, behind a hill which afforded some protection against their destructive fire. For one hour the fire raged with incessant fury. A ball passed over the hill and through our ranks, grazing one of our men. A shell exploded just under Radford's horse, and every minute shot and shell were continually whistling by us. I can give you no conception of that awful hour. Not a man shrank from his post. Two of our men were taken exceedingly sick, one SEPTEMBER, 1861. fainting from the heat and excitement. Such calmness and composure I never witnessed. To make the matter worse, despondency, if not despair, was fast writing itself upon every face. The fire was evidently approaching us. Our friends were retiring, and the whispered rumour passed from lip to lip that our artillery ammunition was running low. In a moment, however, a cloud of dust in our rear showed the approach of our wagons, coming up at a dashing rate, with a fresh supply. Our reinforcements now commenced pouring in. Georgia, South Carolina, Alabama, Mississippi, and Tennessee swept by in their glittering array with the calm light of battle on their faces, and their bayonets gleaming in the quiet Sabbath sunshine. No man faltered, no man lagged behind. Neither the groans of the dying nor the shrieks of the wounded, as they passed by in crowded ambulances, seemed to produce any impression except to fix the determination upon the countenances of all, to win or to die upon the field. The tide now seemed to ebb, just enough to keep us from despair. The firing did not advance, although the explosion of their shells was terrific in the extreme. A gleam of hope, too, gradually broke in upon us, when Kemper's Battery, which had been posted in our centre, galloped up and opened a destructive fire upon our extreme left. The advance was evidently checked, when a loud cheer in the front told us that something unusual had happened. What was it? Was it the triumph of our enemies over our poor stricken friends; or was it some advantage gained by courage in defence of right? The suspense was awful. Men stood straight in their stirrups and stretched their eyes as if they could pierce the rugged bosom of the barren hill which raised its scarred front between them. An aid passed up. His message is written DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE. on his face, and before he speaks a word a wild shout breaks from the throats of thousands. When he speaks, another, another and another round of cheers told the story to our hitherto sinking hearts. The Fourth Virginia Regiment had taken Sprague's Rhode Island Battery of six pieces, at the point of the bayonet. Scarcely had the echo of our cheers died away when again the noise of shouting broke upon the air. What was it? Had the enemy rallied and retaken the guns? Fear struggled with hope. But no: the gallant Twenty-seventh, envious of the glorious achievement of the Fourth, at a single dash had charged a regiment of regulars, swept them from the field, and taken every gun in Sherman's Battery.[See note at end of Book.] The firing of musketry and the rattling of bayonets was now terrible beyond description. For one hour there was an incessant cracking of rifles, without a single moment's pause. The enemy were evidently retiring, and unless reinforced from the left and centre, the day was ours. "Through God's blessing, the enemy, near Port Republic, was this day routed, with the loss of six pieces of artillery. "To President Davis:—This army achieved to-day, on the plains of Manassas, a signal victory over the combined forces of McClellan and Pope. On the 28th and 29th, each wing, under Generals Longstreet and Jackson, repulsed with valour attacks made on them separately. We mourn the loss of our gallant dead in every conflict, yet our gratitude to Almighty God for his mercies rises higher each day. To Him and to the valour of our troops a nation's gratitude is due. "To the People of the Confederate States:
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5Author:  Culbreth David Marvel Reynolds 1856-1943Requires cookie*
 Title:  The University of Virginia  
 Published:  2005 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text 
 Description: In my day at the University of Virginia one required only a brief brushing up against the students, old and new, to be convinced of their extraordinary knowledge of Mr. Jefferson, as he was called always by us with a respect and pride approximating filial veneration. Especially was this noticeable in those coming from Virginia and in that contingent deeply interested in the weekly debates of the Jeff. and Wash. Societies. This to me was a sort of revelation, for of his greatness I knew little, inasmuch as I had simply learned from school histories that he was our third President; had occupied the honorable position two terms; had represented the opposing party to Washington, Adams, Hamilton, Marshall and Jay, and had made more than an ordinary impression upon the then civilized world during his many years of public service. Among the small collection of books at my home was the "Life of Jefferson," by Tucker, but of this I had only read with profit that short portion in the second volume pertaining to the founding of the University. In my first visit to the library I gazed with admiration upon a beautiful white marble statue (Galt's), enclosed by a high iron railing, whose rectangular pedestal bore the inscription:
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6Author:  University of Virginia LibraryRequires cookie*
 Title:  1828 Catalogue of the Library of the University of Virginia  
 Published:  2005 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text 
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7Author:  Chen Shou 233-297Requires cookie*
 Title:  Empresses and Consorts  
 Published:  2005 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text 
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8Author:  Patton John S. (John Shelton) 1857-1932Requires cookie*
 Title:  The University of Virginia  
 Published:  2005 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text 
 Description: An interesting story is that of how the University of Virginia grew out of the idea of one man and became an accomplished fact after more than fifty years of effort, which was often The Occasion and the Men. interrupted by the public cares this leader of thought and action sustained almost unintermittingly through his long life. It brings into view the personality of a young man recently returned from French and Italian universities to engage in some work that would be of service to his people. The occasion was at hand, and the right men for the task were met; for Jefferson, who had the idea, and had thought out all of the details, taking advantage in doing so of his unusual opportunities on both sides of the Atlantic, was well fitted to be the director of this bold movement, while Joseph Carrington Cabell, broadly educated and highly endowed, was the man of his time the best suited to enter the arena, champion the Jefferson idea, and secure statutory tangibleness for the splendid scheme. Albemarle Academy would The Early Professors. call for a passing thought, though it never existed, and Central College would require a word, though its academe never resounded with student voices. The first professors would afford an interesting hour, especially those who had come over sea when ocean voyaging was attended with danger and discomfort—Blaettermann, from "33 Castle street, Holborn," to quote Mr. Jefferson, "a German who was acquainted with our countrymen Ticknor and Preston, and was highly recommended by them;" George Long, the Oxford graduate, "a small, delicate-looking blonde It is the simple truth to say, without Joseph Carrington Cabell's persistent labors in the legislature, his self-sacrifice and indomitable courage, his wonderful political tact and unfailing diplomacy, Jefferson's idea would never have been realized, at least in his lifetime. It was once publicly stated in the Virginia Senate, in 1828, that in promoting "that monument of wisdom," the University, Cabell was "second only to Jefferson." —Dr. Herbert B. Adams. man," charming enough to catch a Virginia widow; and three others— Thomas Hewitt Key, Charles Bonnycastle and Robley Dunglison—who came over in the same vessel, the "Competitor." This voyage, requiring nearly four months—six weeks of which were spent in beating about the Channel—almost reached tragic consequences. The captain (Godby) was little better than a brute, who, Mr. Key said, deserved to be shot for cowardice. During the tedious winter voyage Key and Bonnycastle seem to have amused themselves at the expense of the stupid sailor. One day when they asked the mate for the latitude and longitude, he replied, "Well, gentlemen, the captain has ordered me not to tell you—but he didn't tell me not to chalk them up," which he proceeded to do. Thereupon Key and Bonnycastle covered a paper with a multitude of calculations or figures of no significance, and wound up by giving as a result the figures received through the mate, which they signed as showing the ship's place on such a date "as calculated by Dr. Barlow's new method." They left the paper on the table, and some time afterwards they found an entry in the ship's log in which the figures were given, with a note by the captain, "as calculated by me, by Dr. Barlow's new method."
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9Author:  Davison Thomas RafflesRequires cookie*
 Title:  Port Sunlight  
 Published:  2005 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text 
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10Author:  Moore Frank 1828-1904Requires cookie*
 Title:  Diary of the American Revolution  
 Published:  2005 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text 
 Description: January 1.—The chief troubles of our Israel1 1 The town of Boston. are the Philantrops, the Hazlerods, the Sir Froths, the Tims, the Bens, and the Bobs. These are men, who, for large Causes of trouble in Boston. shares in the American plunder, have sold themselves to do wickedly. The barbarians who have been aiding and assisting bad governors and abandoned ministers, in all their attempts to subjugate and enslave these once happy colonies: the hireling prostitutes who have been constantly representing to ministry that the friends of liberty were a small, insignificant, divided faction; that the people had not virtue to sacrifice any parts of the profits of their trade, or the luxury of their living for the sake of their country; or spirit to withstand the least exertion of power. These are traitors who were for none but licensed town-meetings,2 2 See the Governor's proclamation. and gave administration the outlines of the execrable Boston Port Bill and the other detestable bills for destroying the charter,3 3 Of Massachusetts Bay. and those sacred compacts which Americans once thought were of some value, the faith of kings being the security. These are the unblushing advocates for pensioned governors, dependent judges, hired attorneys, and sheriff created jurors, that the people might, under color of law, be stript of their property, without their consent, and suitably punished if they should dare to complain: the odious rebels, who, for the support of these hateful measures, have invited the troops and ships, that are now distressing the inhabitants of Boston, and alarming 8 not only a single province, but a whole continent. And when almost every event has turned out contrary to their predictions, and when it might be reasonably expected that the union of the colonies, the resolutions of the Continental Congress, and the late associations and preparations to withstand all hostile attempts upon our persons or properties, might lead administration to suspect at least the policy or safety of pushing this people to extremities; we find this infamous cabal playing over the old game of ministerial deception, and Timothy Ruggles1 1 The Chief Justice of the province of Massachusetts Bay. See statement and plan of association, published by Judge Ruggles in most of the Boston papers, Dec. 23-27, 1774, and reprinted in Gaines' New York Gazette, Jan. 9, 1775. with a gravity peculiar to himself and an owl, Timothy Ruggles' assertion. asserting in the public prints—"that though many of the people had for some time past been arming, their numbers would not appear in the field so large as imagined, before it was known that independeney was the object in contemplation;"2 2 An assertion as false as it is impudent and injurious, first uttered by a hireling priest,* * Dr. Myles Cooper, the President of King's, now Columbia, College, a vigorous writer in favor of the crown. in the New York Freeholder, who at the same time declared that he had rather be under the government of Roman Catholics than Dissenters—a declaration truly characteristic of the doctor, and his little club of malignants.—The people of Massachusetts have hitherto acted purely on the defensive; they have only opposed those new regulations which were instantly to have been executed, and would have annihilated all our rights. For this absolutely necessary and manly step they have received the approbation of the Continental Congress, one of the most respectable assemblies in the world. They aim at no independency, nor any thing new, but barely the preservation of their old rights. They have referred their cause to the whole continent, and are determined to act only in free consultation, and close union with their brethren. This is indeed the safety of all.—Editor of the Journal. and further, that since that time, many associated in divers parts of the province, to support what he calls "Government."—But the views and designs of these pensioned prostitutes of Massachusetts,—in all that they say or write, are perfectly kenned by the most short-sighted amongst us. In vain are their scare-crows, raw-head and bloody bones, held up to deter us from taking the most effectual means for our security. The little scribbling, illiberal 9 pieces, which have disgraced the Massachusetts Gazettes, will not lessen the Continental Congress in our The Gazettes. esteem; or retard the measures they have recommended, notwithstanding the sums paid to effect it. These writers, and their attempts to encourage or mislead, are treated with ineffable contempt by their countrymen. It has, however, been unhappy for both countries that the representations and projects of such men as these have been heeded and adopted on the other side of the Atlantic; men whose very livings have depended upon the continuation of those measures which Americans have so long complained of, and sought to have redressed. If these unnaturals should succeed in their present misleading attempts, to the preventing a speedy close to our differences, we shall then have good reason to conclude that blindness has happened to Britons, that the fulness of American Liberty might come in.1 1 Pennsylvania Journal, Jan. 25.
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11Author:  Chiniquy Charles Paschal Telesphore 1809-1899Requires cookie*
 Title:  Fifty Years in the Church of Rome  
 Published:  2005 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text 
 Description: MY father, Charles Chiniquy, born in Quebec, had studied in the Theological Seminary of that city, to prepare himself for the priesthood. But a few days before making his vows, having been the witness of a great iniquity in the high quarters of the church, he changed his mind, studied law and became a notary.
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12Author:  Hagood Johnson 1829-1898Requires cookie*
 Title:  Memoirs of the War of Secession  
 Published:  2005 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text 
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13Author:  Bird Robert Montgomery 1806-1854Requires cookie*
 Title:  The Hawks of Hawk-hollow  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: America is especially the land of change. From the moment of discovery, its history has been a record of convulsions, such as necessarily attend a transition from barbarism to civilization; and to the end of time, it will witness those revolutions in society, which arise in a community unshackled by the restraints of prerogative. As no law of primogeniture can ever entail the distinctions meritoriously won, or the wealth painfully amassed, by a single individual, upon a line of descendants, the mutations in the condition of families will be perpetual. The Dives of to-day will be the Diogenes of to-morrow; and the `man of the tub' will often live to see his children change place with those of the palace-builder. As it has been, so will it be,— “Now up, now doun, as boket in a well;” and the honoured and admired of one generation will be forgotten among the moth-lived luminaries of the next.
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14Author:  Bird Robert Montgomery 1806-1854Requires cookie*
 Title:  Sheppard Lee  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
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15Author:  Bird Robert Montgomery 1806-1854Requires cookie*
 Title:  Sheppard Lee  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
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16Author:  Brainard John G. C. (John Gardiner Calkins) 1796-1828Requires cookie*
 Title:  Letters Found in the Ruins of Fort Braddock, Including an Interesting American Tale  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: IT is now spring—the buds are bursting through all the wilderness about me; but the cold rains which are constantly descending, make my condition so cheerless, that I write to you merely to pass the time. Why I was doomed to spend my winter here so solitary, or when I shall have the good luck to shift my quarters, for any other spot, is past my skill to divine. Any other spot—the Arkansas, the Rio Colorada, the Council Bluffs, the Yellow Stone, any place but this. Was I dangerous to government, that they should have contrived for one poor subaltern, this Siberian banishment, where I am ingeniously confined, not by a guard placed over me, but by having the command of about five and twenty men, that the spring discovers in a uniform of rags.
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17Author:  Briggs Charles F. (Charles Frederick) 1804-1877Requires cookie*
 Title:  The Adventures of Harry Franco  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: It is a generally received opinion in some parts of the world, that a man must of necessity have had ancestors; but, in our truly independent country, we contrive to get along very well without them. That strange race, called Aristocrats, it is said, consider every body as nobody, unless they can boast of at least a dozen ancestors. These lofty people would have scorned an alliance with a parvenu like Adam, of course. What a fortunate circumstance for their high mightinesses, that they were not born in the early ages. No antediluvian family would have been entitled to the slightest consideration from them. When the world was only two thousand years old, it is melancholy to reflect, its surface was covered with nobodies; men of yesterday, without an ancestry worth speaking of. It is not to be wondered at, that such a set of upstarts should have caused the flood; nothing less would have washed away their vulgarity, to say nothing of their sins. Augustus de Satinett was a jobber; a choicer spirit the region of Hanover square boasted not. Pearl street and Maiden Lane may have known his equal, his superior never. He had risen from junior clerk to junior partner, in one of the oldest firms. The best blood of the revolution flowed in his veins; his mother was a Van Buster, his father a de Satinett; a more remote ancestry, or a more noble, it were vain to desire. Augustus had a noble soul, it was a seven quarter full; his virtues were all his own, and they were dyed in the wool; his vices were those of his age—they were dyed in the cloth.
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18Author:  Briggs Charles F. (Charles Frederick) 1804-1877Requires cookie*
 Title:  The Adventures of Harry Franco  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: It was a broiling hot day, and as I toiled along through the dusty streets of Brooklyn towards the ferry, I almost wished myself back again upon the blue sea. Dear Sir—This is to inform you as I have entered in Uncle Sam's service, and have took three month's advance. I have kept money enough to have a good drunk, and the rest I send to you. Keep it and spend it for my sake. I wanted to of given you more, but that young woman, blast her—but never say die. So no more at present till death, and don't forget your old shipmate, Is it true that my dear boy is alive and well! O, Harry, I have read your letter over and over; and your poor sister has read it, and cried over it, and prayed over it. I put it under my pillow when I lay down at night, that I may be able to press it to my lips when I wake in the morning. Your father tells me it is weak in me to do so, but it is a weakness caused by the strength of my love for you. O, Harry, my dear boy, I have had such dreams about you! but they were only dreams, and I will not distress you by relating them. Let us give thanks to our heavenly Father for all his mercies. When we received your letter, it was my wish to return thanks publicly through Doctor Slospoken; but your father would not give his consent. What the neighbors all thought, I cannot say. But my dear Harry, why did you not come home? to your own home? Do not think, my dear child, that you will be more welcome to your home and your mother's heart, if you bring the wealth of the Indies with you. If you be covered with jewels your mother will not see them, and if you be clothed in rags, she will only see her child. Your letter has made us all happy; how happy I cannot express; for we had mourned for you as one that was dead. I cannot, in a letter, relate to you all that has been said and done since we heard from you; but may be assured we have been almost beside ourselves with joy, and all our talk has been, Harry, Harry, Harry. “My conscience upbraids me with having broken the golden rule, in my intercourse with you, and I cannot allow you to leave me, under a false impression of my feelings. I am afraid I have not been sufficiently plain, when you have spoken to me on the subject, in giving you to understand that my mind is unalterably fixed, never to unite myself to one, whose heart has not been bowed under the conscious burden of his sins; for my promise has been passed, mentally only, I own, but I cannot break it. It is registered above. Had I known you before the vow was made, perhaps it never would have been; but it is, and I am bound by it. Our hands, dear Harry, may never be united, but our hearts may be. I cannot dissimulate, I do love you; how well I love you, let this confession witness. If it be sinful in me, I trust that He, in whom is all my trust, will pardon me, and deliver me from my bondage. And my constant prayer to Him is, that he will bring you to the foot of that Cross, where alone I can meet you. “Immediately on the receipt of this, you will destroy all the blank acceptances of Marisett and Co., which may remain in your hands. Make no farther contracts of any description, for account of our house, but hold yourself in readiness to return to New York. “Since our last, of the 28th ult., we have come to the determination of stopping payment. It may be necessary for us to make an assignment; if so, we will advise you farther, and remain, “We are without any of your valued favors since we acknowledged yours of the 14th. You have already been informed of the stoppage of our house; and I have now to inform you, that in consequence of our Mr. Garvey having used the name of the firm to a very great extent, in his private land operations, our liabilities are found greatly to exceed our assets. Our senior partner, I am concerned to add, is completely prostrated by this event, and unable to afford me the aid which I require in adjusting the affairs of the concern. All the circumstances considered, I think it will be advisable for you to return to New York as soon as you can bring matters to a close at New Orleans.
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19Author:  Child Lydia Maria Francis 1802-1880Requires cookie*
 Title:  Hobomok  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: I NEVER view the thriving villages of New England, which speak so forcibly to the heart, of happiness and prosperity, without feeling a glow of national pride, as I say, “this is my own, my native land.” A long train of associations are connected with her picturesque rivers, as they repose in their peaceful loveliness, the broad and sparkling mirror of the heavens,—and with the cultivated environs of her busy cities, which seem every where blushing into a perfect Eden of fruit and flowers. The remembrance of what we have been, comes rushing on the heart in powerful and happy contrast. In most nations the path of antiquity is shrouded in darkness, rendered more visible by the wild, fantastic light of fable; but with us, the vista of time is luminous to its remotest point. Each succeeding year has left its footsteps distinct upon the soil, and the cold dew of our chilling dawn is still visible beneath the mid-day sun. Two centuries only have elapsed, since our most beautiful villages reposed in the undisturbed grandeur of nature;—when the scenes now rendered classic by literary associations, or resounding with the din of commerce, echoed nought but the song of the hunter, or the fleet tread of the wild deer. God was here in his holy temple, and the whole earth kept silence before him! But the voice of prayer was soon to be heard in the desert. The sun, which for ages beyond the memory of man had gazed on the strange, fearful worship of the Great Spirit of the wilderness, was soon to shed its splendor upon the altars of the living God. That light, which had arisen amid the darkness of Europe, stretched its long, luminous track across the Atlantic, till the summits of the western world became tinged with its brightness. During many long, long ages of gloom and corruption, it seemed as if the pure flame of religion was every where quenched in blood;—but the watchful vestal had kept the sacred flame still burning deeply and fervently. Men, stern and unyielding, brought it hither in their own bosom, and amid desolation and poverty they kindled it on the shrine of Jevovah. In this enlightened and liberal age, it is perhaps too fashionable to look back upon those early sufferers in the cause of the Reformation, as a band of dark, discontented bigots. Without doubt, there were many broad, deep shadows in their characters, but there was likewise bold and powerful light. The peculiarities of their situation occasioned most of their faults, and atoned for them. They were struck off from a learned, opulent, and powerful nation, under circumstances which goaded and lacerated them almost to ferocity;—and it is no wonder that men who fled from oppression in their own country, to all the hardships of a remote and dreary province, should have exhibited a deep mixture of exclusive, bitter, and morose passions. To us indeed, most of the points for which they so strenuously contended, must appear exceedingly absurd and trifling; and we cannot forbear a smile that vigorous and cultivated minds should have looked upon the signing of the cross with so much horror and detestation. But the heart pays involuntary tribute to conscientious, persevering fortitude, in what cause soever it may be displayed. At this impartial period we view the sound policy and unwearied zeal with which the Jesuits endeavored to rebuild their decaying church, with almost as much admiration as we do the noble spirit of reaction which it produced. Whatever merit may be attached to the cause of our forefathers, the mighty effort which they made for its support is truly wonderful; and whatever might have been their defects, they certainly possessed excellencies, which peculiarly fitted them for a van-guard in the proud and rapid march of freedom. The bold outlines of their character alone remain to us. The varying tints of domestic detail are already concealed by the ivy which clusters around the tablets of our recent history. Some of these have lately been unfolded in an old, worn-out manuscript, which accidentally came in my way. It was written by one of my ancestors who fled with the persecuted nonconformists from the Isle of Wight, and about the middle of June, 1629, arrived at Naumkeak on the eastern shore of Massachusetts. Every one acquainted with our early history remembers the wretched state in which they found the scanty remnant of their brethren at that place. I shall, therefore, pass over the young man's dreary account of sickness and distress, and shall likewise take the liberty of substituting my own expressions for his antiquated and almost unintelligible style. “This comes to reminde you of one you sometime knew at Plimouth. One to whome the remembrance of your comely face and gratious behaviour, hath proved a very sweete savour. Many times I have thought to write to you, and straightnesse of time only hath prevented. There is much to doe at this seasone, and wee have reason to rejoyce, though with fier and trembling, that we have wherewithal to worke. “Wheras Mr. Collier hathe beene supposed to blame concerning some businesse he hath of late endeavoured to transacte for Mr. Hopkins, this cometh to certifie that he did faithfully performe his dutie, and moreover that his great modestie did prevente his understanding many hints, until I spoke even as he hath represented. Wherefore, if there be oughte unseemly in this, it lieth on my shoulders. “I againe take up my penn to write upon the same paper you gave me when I left you, and tolde me thereupon to write my thoughts in the deserte. Alas, what few I have, are sad ones. I remember you once saide that Shakspeare would have beene the same greate poet if he had been nurtured in a Puritan wildernesse. But indeed it is harde for incense to rise in a colde, heavy atmosphere, or for the buds of fancie to put forth, where the heartes of men are as harde and sterile as their unploughed soile. You will wonder to hear me complain, who have heretofore beene so proud of my cheerfulnesse. Alas, howe often is pride the cause of things whereunto we give a better name. Perhaps I have trusted too muche to my owne strengthe in this matter, and Heaven is nowe pleased to send a more bitter dispensation, wherewithal to convince me of my weakness. I woulde tell you more, venerable parente, but Mr. Brown will conveye this to your hande, and he will saye much, that I cannot finde hearte or roome for. The settlement of this Western Worlde seemeth to goe on fast now that soe many men of greate wisdome and antient blood are employed therein. They saye much concerning our holie church being the Babylone of olde, and that vials of fierce wrath are readie to be poured out upon her. If the prophecies of these mistaken men are to be fulfilled, God grante I be not on earthe to witnesse it. My dear mother is wasting awaye, though I hope she will long live to comforte me. She hath often spoken of you lately. A fewe dayes agone, she said she shoulde die happier if her grey-haired father coulde shed a tear upon her grave. I well know that when that daye does come, we shall both shed many bitter tears. I must leave some space in this paper for her feeble hande to fill. The Lord have you in His holie keeping till your dutifull grandchilde is againe blessed with the sighte of your countenance. “I knowe nott wherewithal to address you, for my hearte is full, and my hande trembleth with weaknesse. My kinde Mary is mistaken in thinking I shall long sojourne upon Earthe. I see the grave opening before me, but I feel that I cannot descend thereunto till I have humbly on my knees asked the forgiveness of my offended father. He who hath made man's hearte to suffer, alone knoweth the wretchedness of mine when I have thought of your solitary old age. Pardon, I beseech you, my youthfull follie and disobedience, and doe not take offence if I write that the husbande for whose sake I have suffered much, hath been through life a kinde and tender helpe-meete; for I knowe it will comforte you to think upon this, when I am dead and gone. I would saye much more, but though my soule is strong in affection for you, my body is weake. God Almighty bless you, is the prayer of “Manie thoughts crowde into my hearte, when I take upp my pen to write to you. Straightwaye my deare wife, long in her grave, cometh before me, and bringeth the remembrance of your owne babie face, as you sometime lay suckling in her arms. The bloode of anciente men floweth slow, and the edge of feeling groweth blunte: but heavie thoughts will rise on the surface of the colde streame, and memorie will probe the wounded hearte with her sharpe lancett. There hath been much wronge betweene us, my deare childe, and I feel that I trode too harshlie on your young hearte: but it maye nott be mended. I have had many kinde thoughts of you, though I have locked them up with the keye of pride. The visit of Mr. Brown was very grievious unto me, inasmuch as he tolde me more certainly than I had known before. that you were going downe to the grave. Well, my childe, `it is a bourne from whence no traveller returns.' My hande trembleth while I write this, and I feel that I too am hastening thither. Maye we meete in eternitie. The tears dropp on the paper when I think we shall meete no more in time. Give my fervente love to Mary. She is too sweete a blossom to bloome in the deserte. Mr. Brown tolde me much that grieved me to hear. He is a man of porte and parts, and peradventure she maye see the time when her dutie and inclination will meete together. The greye hairs of her olde Grandefather maye be laide in the duste before that time; but she will finde he hath nott forgotten her sweete countenance and gratious behaviour. I am gladd you have founde a kinde helpe-meete in Mr. Conant. May God prosper him according as he hath dealte affectionately with my childe. Forgive your olde father as freelie as he forgiveth you. And nowe, God in his mercie bless you, dere childe of my youthe. Farewell. “This doth certifie that the witche hazel sticks, which were givene to the witnesses of my marriage are all burnte by my requeste: therefore by Indian laws, Hobomok and Mary Conant are divorced. And this I doe, that Mary may be happie. The same will be testified by my kinsmen Powexis, Mawhalissis, and Mackawalaw. The deere and foxes are for my goode Mary, and my boy. Maye the Englishmen's God bless them all.
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20Author:  Cooper James Fenimore 1789-1851Requires cookie*
 Title:  Precaution  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: “I wonder if we are to have a neighbour in the Deanery soon,” inquired Clara Moseley, addressing herself to a small party, assembled in her father's drawing room, while standing at a window which commanded a distant view of the mansion in question.
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