| | 1 | Author: | Patton
John S.
(John Shelton)
1857-1932 | Requires 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. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 4 | Author: | 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: | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 5 | Author: | Culbreth
David Marvel Reynolds
1856-1943 | Requires 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: | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 8 | Author: | Patton
John S.
(John Shelton)
1857-1932 | Requires 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." | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 10 | Author: | Moore
Frank
1828-1904 | Requires 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. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 13 | Author: | Hawthorne
Nathaniel
1804-1864 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Scarlet Letter | | | | 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: | A throng of bearded men, in sad-colored garments
and gray, steeple-crowned hats, intermixed with women,
some wearing hoods, and others bareheaded, was
assembled in front of a wooden edifice, the door of
which was heavily timbered with oak, and studded with
iron spikes. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 16 | Author: | Irving
Washington
1783-1859 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Tales of a Traveller | | | | 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 was once at a hunting dinner, given by a
worthy fox-hunting old Baronet, who kept Bachelor's
Hall in jovial style, in an ancient rook-haunted
family mansion, in one of the middle
counties. He had been a devoted admirer of the
fair sex in his young days; but having travelled
much, studied the sex in various countries with
distinguished success, and returned home profoundly
instructed, as he supposed, in the ways
of woman, and a perfect master of the art of
pleasing, he had the mortification of being jilted
by a little boarding school girl, who was scarcely
versed in the accidence of love. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 17 | Author: | Kirkland
Caroline M.
(Caroline Matilda)
1801-1864 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | A New Home - Who'll Follow? | | | | 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: | Our friends in the “settlements” have expressed so
much interest in such of our letters to them, as happened
to convey any account of the peculiar features
of western life, and have asked so many questions,
touching particulars which we had not thought, worthy
of mention, that I have been for some time past contemplating
the possibility of something like a detailed
account of our experiences. And I have determined
to give them to the world, in a form not very different
from that in which they were originally recorded for
our private delectation; nothing doubting, that a veracious
history of actual occurrences, an unvarnished
transcript of real characters, and an impartial record
of every-day forms of speech (taken down in many
cases from the lips of the speaker) will be pronounced
“graphic,” by at least a fair proportion of the journalists
of the day. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
|
