| | 1 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Black Ralph, or, The helmsman of Hurlgate  | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | In contemplating the interesting scenes
and events of the American Revolution, we
are accustomed to view them as only affecting
ourselves as Americans, and as occurring
only within the boundaries of our own land;
so that a story of the `Revolution' to be laid
in England or France would at first view startle
and appear an incongruity of history. Yet
the one being our foe and the other our ally,
closely involve their interests as individuals
with ours and throw as profound a degree of
sympathy over the progress and issue of
events on the common theatre of war, as if
their own fields had been the scenes of contest.
The war of the Revolution produced
in the vales and homes of England and the
vine-clad hills of France, many a scene of
domestic trial and woe as touching as
was daily witnessed among the rude forest
homes of our own land. Brave warriors
parted from wives and sweethearts in
sunny France to join the issue with us for liberty;
many a gallant soldier bade last adieus
to a weeping maiden. ere, obedient to his
king, he buckled on his sword to sail the seas
to do battle against the rebels of the crown;
and many a hardy patriot of our fathers shouldered
his rifle, amid prayers and tears, to
take the field to oppose the invader. Yet, beneath
their armed breasts they wore human
hearts all—the foe, the ally, and the rebel!
The tears of the one fell as sweetly in the
eye of Pity as the other! The roar of every
battle-field shook France and England as
well as our own land, penetrating the remotest
hamlet, and making many an expecting
heart shrink. the pulses of the three great
nations were for the time bound together and
throbbed as one. The interest of each was
equally deep, where wives, mothers, and
maidens were the judges of that interest.
The war was one—the issue one to theme!
And many is the tale still heard beneath the
vintnor's porch in la belle France, whose theme
is the war of our Revolution, and many is the
sad memory of that contest yet preserved on
the gossip bench of many a village ale-house
in merry England. How many were the
lives at that day, began in Europe that terminated
in America. If every man's life,
fairly written, be a romance out-doing fiction,
how many thousands of truthful stories in
that war opened in England or France to
close their scenes here—perhaps in blood. Sir—You are commanded by the Minister
of War, to give passage to America, to M. St
Clair Lorraine, a Colonel, and bearer of private
despatches to the Marquis de la Fayette. Dearest Madeline—I find the scheme I
suggested when I was fastening on you your
bracelet this afternoon, wholly impracticable
for many reasons. I have determided to take
passage in the same ship with you as M. St.
Clair Lorraine, bearer of despatches, and
meet my ship in America, where it is to join
lord Howe. I have written for, and shall obtain
leave, and in the mean time anticipate it.
Betray no surprise or recognition on meeting
me in the morning at table. I look forward
to a happy passage across the Atlantic in your
sweet society. You will think I am an audaucious
intriguer; but what will not love undertake
for its object? | | | Similar Items: | Find |
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