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| | 181 | Author: | Twain, Mark, 1835-1910 | Add | | | Title: | The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County  | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | I found Simon Wheeler dozing comfortably by the bar-room stove of
the old, dilapidated tavern in the ancient mining camp of Boomerang,
and I noticed that he was fat and bald-headed, and had an expression
of winning gentleness and simplicity upon his tranquil countenance.
He roused up and gave me good-day. I told him a friend of mine had
commissioned me to make some inquiries about a cherished companion
of his boyhood named Leonidas W. Smiley — Rev. Leonidas W. Smiley
— a young minister of the Gospel, who he had heard was at one time
a resident of this village of Boomerang. I added that if Mr. Wheeler
could tell me any thing about this Rev. Leonidas W. Smiley, I would
feel under many obligations to him. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 182 | Author: | Twain, Mark, 1835-1910 | Add | | | Title: | The Mysterious Stranger; A Romance by Mark Twain [pseud.] with
illustrations by N.C. Wyeth. | | | | Published: | 2000 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | IT WAS IN 1590—winter. Austria was far away from the world, and
asleep; it was still the Middle Ages in Austria, and promised to remain so
forever. Some even set it away back centuries upon centuries and said that by
the mental and spiritual clock it was still the Age of Belief in Austria. But
they meant it as a compliment, not a slur, and it was so taken, and we were all
proud of it. I remember it well, although I was only a boy; and I remember, too,
the pleasure it gave me. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 183 | Author: | Twain, Mark, 1835-1910 | Add | | | Title: | Roughing It | | | | Published: | 1998 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | MY brother had just been appointed Secretary of Nevada
Territory—an office of such majesty that it concentrated in itself
the duties and dignities of Treasurer, Comptroller, Secretary of
State, and Acting Governor in the Governor's absence. A salary of
eighteen hundred dollars a year and the title of "Mr. Secretary,"
gave to the great position an air of wild and imposing grandeur. I
was young and ignorant, and I envied my brother. I coveted his
distinction and his financial splendor, but particularly and
especially the long, strange journey he was going to make, and the
curious new world he was going to explore. He was going to
travel! I never had been away from home, and that word "travel"
had a seductive charm for me. Pretty soon he would be hundreds
and hundreds of miles away on the great plains and deserts, and
among the mountains of the Far West, and would see buffaloes and
Indians, and prairie dogs, and antelopes, and have all kinds of
adventures, and may be get hanged or scalped, and have ever such
a fine time, and write home and tell us all about it, and be a hero.
And he would see the gold mines and the silver mines, and maybe
go about of an afternoon when his work was done, and pick up two
or three pailfuls of shining slugs, and nuggets of gold and silver on
the hillside. And by and by he would become very rich, and return
home by sea, and be able to talk as calmly about San Francisco and
the ocean, and "the isthmus" as if it was nothing of any
consequence to have seen those marvels face to face. What I
suffered in contemplating his happiness, pen cannot describe. And
so, when he offered me, in cold blood, the sublime position of
private secretary under him, it appeared to me that
the heavens and the earth passed away, and the firmament was
rolled together as a scroll! I had nothing more to desire. My
contentment was complete.
At the end of an hour or two I was ready for the journey. Not
much packing up was necessary, because we were going in the
overland stage from the Missouri frontier to Nevada, and
passengers were only allowed a small quantity of baggage apiece.
There was no Pacific railroad in those fine times of ten or twelve
years ago—not a single rail of it. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 188 | Author: | Washington, Booker T. | Add | | | Title: | Negro Self-Help | | | | Published: | 1996 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | FROM time to time in the past a great deal of matter has been
furnished to the public, with the praiseworthy purpose of portraying
the individual struggles and sacrifices of colored youths to secure an
education. These efforts of struggling young men and women, with
no inspiration in family tradition and fortune, and with little or no
money with which to secure the knowledge they crave, is one of the
most encouraging as well as pathetic features I have come across in
my educational work during the past twenty years. As a hopeful
indication of race character, and I may safely so describe it, it must
be of peculiar interest to the average American interested in the
Negro people. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 189 | Author: | Washington, Booker T. | Add | | | Title: | Negro Progress in Virginia | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | THE members of the colored race who live outside of Virginia are
beginning to grow somewhat jealous of the progress which our race is
making in this commonwealth. The Negro race in Virginia is going
forward, in my opinion, in all the fundamental and substantial things of
life, faster than the Negro himself realizes and faster than his white
neighbor realizes. I say this notwithstanding there are many existing
weaknesses and much still to be accomplished. This progress which
Virginia Negroes are now experiencing is owing to two causes. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 194 | Author: | Zerbe, J. S. | Add | | | Title: | Aeroplanes | | | | Published: | 1998 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | THE "SCIENCE" OF AVIATION.—It may be
doubted whether there is such a thing as a "science
of aviation." Since Langley, on May 6,
1896, flew a motor-propelled tandem monoplane
for a minute and an half, without a pilot, and the
Wright Brothers in 1903 succeeded in flying a
bi-plane with a pilot aboard, the universal opinion
has been, that flying machines, to be successful,
must follow the structural form of birds, and
that shape has everything to do with flying. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 195 | Author: | Adams
Henry
1838-1918 | Add | | | Title: | John Randolph | | | | Published: | 2006 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | William, first American ancestor of the innumerable
Randolphs of Virginia, made his
appearance there at some time not precisely
known, but probably about the year 1660.
The books tell us neither whence he came,
who he was, why he emigrated, nor what were
his means; but "William Randolph, gentleman,
of Turkey Island," originally from Warwickshire,
or from Yorkshire, at all events
from England, unless it were from Scotland,
married Mary Isham, of Bermuda Hundred,
and by her had seven sons and two daughters,
whose descendants swarmed like bees in the
Virginian hive. Turkey Island, just above the
junction of the James with the Appomattox,
lies unnoticed by mankind except at long intervals
of a hundred years. In 1675, about
the time when William Randolph began his
prosperous career there, Nathaniel Bacon lived
on his plantation at Curles, adjoining Randolph's
estate. Bacon's famous rebellion broke
out in this year, and in 1706, according to the
records of Henrico County, Curles, after escheating
to the King, had come into the hands
of William Randolph's sons. The world's
attention, however, was not so actively drawn
to this group of tobacco plantations by Bacon's
rebellion as by Benedict Arnold's raid in
1781, and neither of these bloody and destructive
disturbances made the region nearly so
famous as it became on June 30, 1862, when
fifty thousand Northern troops, beaten, weary,
and disorganized, converged at Malvern Hill and
Turkey Island Bridge, and the next day fought
a battle which saved their army and perhaps
their cause, without a thought or a care for
the dust of forgotten Randolphs, on which they
were trampling in this cradle of the race. They
were not more indifferent than the family itself,
for long before this time the descendants of
William Randolph had grown up, multiplied,
accumulated great possessions in slaves and
land, then slowly waned in fortune, and at last
disappeared, until not an acre of land on the
James or the Appomattox was owned by a Randolph. Known to you only as holding, in common
with yourself, the honorable station of servant to the
same sovereign people, and disclaiming all pretentions
to make to you any application which in the
general estimation of men requires the preface of
apology, I shall, without the circumlocution of compliment,
proceed to state the cause which induces
this address." "I have not seen, although I have heard, of the
attack which you mention, upon Gallatin, in the
`Aurora.' That paper is so long in reaching me,
and, moreover, is so stuffed with city, or rather suburb,
politics, that I seldom look at it. Indeed, I
have taken a disgust at newspapers ever since the
deception and disappointment which I felt in the case
of Langdon's election. If the `Boston Chronicle,'
published almost upon the spot, should so grossly misrepresent
a plain matter of fact, so easily ascertained,
what reliance can be placed upon a newspaper statement?
My incredulity refused to credit Hamilton's
death, which I thought it very likely would be contradicted
by the next mail; and, until I saw Morris's
wretched attempt at oratory, regarded it merely as a
matter of speculation. You ask my opinion on that
subject; it differs but little, I believe, from your
own. I feel for Hamilton's immediate connections
real concern; for himself, nothing; for his party and
those soi-disant republicans who have been shedding
crocodile tears over him, contempt. The first are
justly punished for descending to use Burr as a tool
to divide their opponents; the last are hypocrites, who
deify Hamilton merely that they may offer up their
enemy on his altars. If Burr had not fallen, like Lucifer,
never to rise again, the unprincipled persecution
of Cheetham might do him service. (By the way, I
wonder if Dennie adverted to Cheetham's patronage
of General Hamilton's memory, when he said that,
`except the imported scoundrel,' etc., etc., all bewailed
his loss.) As it is, those publications are calculated to
engage for him the pity even of those who must deny
their esteem. The people, who ultimately never fail
to make a proper decision, abhor persecution, and
while they justly refuse their confidence to Mr. Burr,
they will detest his oppressors. They cannot, they
will not, grope in the vile mire of seaport politics, not
less vitiated than their atmosphere. Burr's is indeed
an irreparable defeat. He is cut off from all hope
of a retreat among the federalists, not so much because
he has overthrown their idol as because he
cannot answer their purpose. If his influence were
sufficient to divide us, Otis and Morris would to-morrow,
ere those shoes were old in which they followed
Hamilton to the grave, go to the hustings and vote
for Burr; and if his character had no other stain
upon it than the blood of Hamilton, he should have
mine, for any secondary office. I admire his letters,
particularly that signed by Van Ness, and think his
whole conduct in that affair does him honor. How
much it is to be regretted that so nice a perception
of right and wrong, so delicate a sense of propriety,
as he there exhibits should have had such little
influence on his general conduct! In his correspondence
with Hamilton, how visible is his ascendency
over him, and how sensible does the latter appear
of it! There is an apparent consciousness of some
inferiority to his enemy displayed by Hamilton
throughout that transaction, and from a previous
sight of their letters I could have inferred the issue
of the contest. On one side there is labored obscurity,
much equivocation, and many attempts at evasion,
not unmixed with a little blustering; on the
other, an unshaken adherence to his object and an
undeviating pursuit of it, not to be eluded or baffled.
It reminded me of a sinking fox pressed by a vigorous
old hound, where no shift is permitted to avail
him. But perhaps you think me inclined to do Burr
more than justice. I assure you, however, that
when I first saw the correspondence, and before my
feelings were at all excited for the man, as they have
been in some degree by the savage yell which has
been raised against him, I applauded the spirit and
admired the style of his compositions. They are the
first proof which I ever saw of his ability." "On my return from Fredericksburg, after a racing
campaign, I was very agreeably accosted by your
truly welcome letter, to thank you for which, and not
because I have anything, stable news excepted, to
communicate, I now take up the pen. It is some
satisfaction to me, who have been pestered with inquiries
that I could not answer on the subject of
public affairs, to find that the Chancellor of the Exchequer
and First Lord of the Treasury is in as comfortable
a state of ignorance as myself. Pope says of
governments, that is best which is best administered.
What idea, then, could he have of a government
which was not administered at all? The longer I
live, the more do I incline to somebody's opinion
that there is in the affairs of this world a mechanism
of which the very agents themselves are ignorant,
and which, of course, they can neither calculate nor
control. As much free will as you please in everything
else, but in politics I must ever be a necessitarian.
And this comfortable doctrine saves me a deal
of trouble and many a twinge of conscience for my
heedless ignorance. I therefore leave Major Jackson
and his Ex. of Casa Yrujo to give each other the lie
in Anglo-American or Castilian fashions, just as it
suits them, and when people resort to me for intelligence,
instead of playing the owl and putting on a face
of solemn nonsense, I very fairly tell them, with perfect
nonchalance, that I know nothing of the matter,
— from which, if they have any discernment, they
may infer that I care as little about it, — and then
change the subject as quickly as I can to horses, dogs,
the plough, or some other upon which I feel myself
competent to converse. In short, I like originality
too well to be a second-hand politician when I can
help it. It is enough to live upon the broken victuals
and be tricked out in the cast-off finery of you
first-rate statesmen all the winter. When I cross the
Potomac I leave behind me all the scraps, shreds, and
patches of politics which I collect during the session,
and put on the plain homespun, or, as we say, the
`Virginia cloth,' of a planter, which is clean, whole,
and comfortable, even if it be homely. Nevertheless,
I have patriotism enough left to congratulate
you on the fullness of the public purse, and cannot
help wishing that its situation could be concealed
from our Sangrados in politics, with whom depletion
is the order of the day. On the subject of a navy, you
know my opinion concurs with yours. I really feel
ashamed for my country, that whilst she is hectoring
before the petty corsairs of the coast of Barbary,
she should truckle to the great pirate of the German
Ocean; and I would freely vote a naval force
that should blow the Cambrian and Leander out of
water. Indeed, I wish Barron's squadron had been
employed on that service. I am perfectly aware
of the importance of peace to us, particularly with
Great Britain, but I know it to be equally necessary
to her; and in short, if we have any honor as a nation
to lose, which is problematical, I am unwilling
to surrender it. "Bizarre, 29 March, 1805. . . . My sins against
Monroe, in whose debt I have been for near five
months, would have excited something of compunction
in me were I any longer susceptible of such sensations;
but I will write to him immediately on your
subject; and, take my word for it, my good friend,
he is precisely that man to whom your spirit would
not disdain to be obliged. For, if I know you, there
are very few beings in this vile world of ours from
whom you would not scorn even the semblance of obligation.
In a few weeks I shall sail for London myself.
. . . I gather from the public prints that we are
severely handled by the feds and their new allies.
Not the least equivocal proof, my friend, that the
trust reposed in us has not been betrayed. I hope to
be back in time to trail a pike with you in the next
campaign. . . . I wish very much to have if it were
but half an hour's conversation with you. Should
you see Gallatin, commend me to him and that admirable
woman his wife. What do you augur from
the vehement puff of B[urr]? As you well know,
I never was among his persecutors, but this is overstepping
the modesty of nature. Besides, we were
in Washington at the time, and heard nothing of the
miraculous effects of his valedictory. Rely upon it,
strange things are at hand. Never did the times require
more union and decision among the real friends
of freedom. But shall we ever see decision or union?
I fear not. To those men who are not disposed
to make a job of politics, never did public
affairs present a more awful aspect. Everything and
everybody seems to be jumbled out of place, except
a few men who are steeped in supine indifference,
whilst meddling fools and designing knaves are
governing the country under the sanction of their
names." "28 June, 1805. . . . I do not understand your
manœuvres at headquarters, nor should I be surprised
to see the Navy Department abolished, or, in
more appropriate phrase, swept by the board, at the
11
next session of Congress. The nation has had the
most conclusive proof that a head is no necessary appendage
to the establishment." "I am still too unwell to turn out. My bowels are
torn all to pieces. If you persist in voting the money,
the committee will alter its report. Write me on this
subject, and tell me what you are doing. How is
Edward to-day? I 've heard from St. George. He
got to Norfolk in time for the Intrepid, on the 24th,
Tuesday. She was loaded, and only waiting for a fair
wind. If the southeaster of Friday did not drive her
back into the Chesapeake, she has by this time crossed
the Gulf Stream. The poor fellow was very seasick
going down the bay. "Bizarre, 3 June, 1806. . . . The public prints
teem with misrepresentations, which it would be vain
to oppose, even if an independent press could be found
to attempt it. The torrent is for the present resistless.
I long for the meeting of Congress, an event
which hitherto I have always deprecated, that I may
face the monster of detraction. . . . Nothing will be
left undone to excite an opposition to me at the next
election, but I have no expectation that it will be effected,
or of its success in case it should. There are
too many gaping idolaters of power among us, but,
like you, we have men of sterling worth; and one
thing is certain, — that, however we may differ on the
subject of the present administration, all parties here
(I speak of the republicans) unite in support of Monroe
for President. I have heard of but one dissenting
voice, Giles, who is entirely misled; all his information
is from E[ppes], his representative. They
talk of an expression of the opinion of our legislature
to this effect at their next meeting. An inefficient
opposition is making to Garnett. Thompson, I
believe, will have an opponent likewise, but this is
not yet determined on. From what I have written
above you are not to infer that I mean to yield a
bloodless victory to my enemies. You know me well
enough, I hope, to believe that a want of perseverance
is not among my defects. I will persevere to
the last in the cause in which I am embarked." "Washington, March 20, 1806. . . . There is
no longer a doubt but that the principles of our administration
have been materially changed. The
compass of a letter (indeed, a volume would be too
small) cannot suffice to give you even an outline. Suffice
it to say that everything is made a business of bargain
and traffic, the ultimate object of which is to raise
Mr. Madison to the presidency. To this the old
republican party will never consent, nor can New
York be brought into the measure. Between them
and the supporters of Mr. Madison there is an open
rupture. Need I tell you that they (the old republicans)
are united in your support? that they look to
you, sir, for the example which this nation has yet to
receive to demonstrate that the government can be
conducted on open, upright principles, without intrigue
or any species of disingenuous artifice? We are extremely
rejoiced to hear that you are about to return
to the United States. Much as I am personally interested,
through St. George, in your stay in Europe, I
would not have you remain one day longer. Your
country requires, nay demands, your presence. It is
time that a character which has proved invulnerable
to every open attack should triumph over insidious
enmity." "Georgetown, 10 December, 1806. . . . The
message of the 3d was, as you supposed, wormwood
to certain gentry. They made wry faces, but, in fear
of the rod and in hopes of sugar-plums, swallowed it
with less apparent repugnance than I had predicted.
. . . Of all the men who have met me with the
greatest apparent cordiality, old Smilie is the last
whom you would suspect. I understand that they
(you know who they are) are well disposed towards
a truce. The higher powers are in the same goodly
temper, as I am informed. I have seen nobody belonging
to the administration but the Secretary of the
Navy, who called here the day before yesterday, and
whose visit I repaid this morning. You may remember,
some years ago, my having remarked to you the
little attention which we received from the grandees,
and the little disposition which I felt to court it. I
have therefore invariably waited for the first advance
from them, because at home I conceive myself bound
to make it to any gentleman who may be in my neighborhood." "Committee Room, 17 February, 1807. . . .
Bad as you suppose matters to be, they are even
worse than you apprehend. What think you of that
Prince of Prigs and Puppies, G. W. C[ampbell] for
a judge of the Supreme Court of the United States!!!
Risum teneas? You must know we have made a new
circuit, consisting of the three western States, with an
additional associate justice. A caucus (excuse the
slang of politics) was held, as I am informed, by the
delegations of those States for the purpose of recommending
some character to the President. Boyle was
talked of, but the interest of C. finally prevailed.
This is `Tom, Dick, and Harry' with a vengeance.
. . . If Mr. `American,' whom, by the way, I never
see, should persevere in the attack which you tell me
he is making upon me, I shall issue letters of marque
and reprisal against his principals. The doughty
general [Samuel Smith] is vulnerable at all points,
and his plausible brother [Robert Smith] not much
better defended. The first has condemned in terms
of unqualified reprobation the general measures pursued
by the administration, and lamented that, such
was the public infatuation, no man could take a position
against it without destroying himself and injuring
the cause which he attempted to serve, — with
much more to the same tune. I called some time
since at the navy office to ask an explanation of certain
items of the estimate for this year. The Secretary
called up his chief clerk, who knew very little
more of the business than his master. I propounded
a question to the head of the department; he turned
to the clerk like a boy who cannot say his lesson, and
with imploring countenance beseeches aid; the clerk
with much assurance gabbled out some commonplace
jargon, which I would not take for sterling; an explanation
was required, and both were dumb. This
pantomime was repeated at every new item, until, disgusted,
and ashamed for the degraded situation of the
principal, I took leave without pursuing the subject,
seeing that my subject could not be attained. There
was not one single question relating to the department
that the Secretary could answer." "Bizarre, March 24, 1807. . . . Mr. T. M.
Randolph suddenly declines a reëlection, in favor of
Wilson Nicholas, whose talents for intrigue you well
know, I presume. Had I known of Mr. Purviance's
arrival, I should certainly have remained in Washington
for the purpose of seeing him, and procuring
better information concerning the treaty than the
contradictory accounts of the newspapers furnish. I
have considered the decree of Berlin to be the great
cause of difficulty; at the same time, I never had a
doubt that clamor would be raised against the treaty,
be it what it might. My reasons for this opinion I
will give when we meet. They are particular as well
as general. Prepare yourself to be surprised at some
things which you will near." "Richmond, May 30, 1807. . . . The friends of
Mr. Madison have left nothing undone to impair the
very high and just confidence of the nation in yourself.
Nothing but the possession of the government
could have enabled them to succeed, however partially,
in this attempt. In Virginia they have met
with the most determined resistance, and although
I believe the executive influence will at last carry
the point, for which it has been unremittingly exerted,
of procuring the nomination of electors favorable
to the Secretary of State, yet it is not even
in its power to shake the confidence of the people
of this State in your principles and abilities, or to
efface your public services from their recollection.
I should be wanting in my duty to you, my dear
sir, were I not to apprise you that exertions to diminish
the value of your character and public services
have been made by persons, and in a manner
that will be scarcely credible to you, although at the
same time unquestionably true. Our friend Colonel
Mercer, should you land in a northern port, can give
you some correct and valuable information on this
and other subjects. Meanwhile, the republicans of
New York, sore with the coalition effected by Mr.
John Nicholas between his party and the federalists
(now entirely discomfited), and knowing the auspices
under which he acted, are irreconcilably opposed
to Mr. Madison, and striving to bring forward Mr.
Clinton, the Vice-President. Much consequently
depends on the part which Pennsylvania will take in
this transaction. There is a leaning, evidently, towards
the New York candidate. Whether the executive
influence will be able to overcome this predisposition
yet remains to be seen. In the person of any
other man than Mr. M. I have no doubt it would
succeed. But the republicans of Pennsylvania, setting
all other considerations aside, are indignant at
the recollection that in all their struggles with the
combined parties of McKean, etc., and the federalists,
the hand of government has been felt against
them, and so far as it has been exerted they choose to
ascribe [it] to the exertions of Mr. M. Such is, as
nearly as I can collect, the posture of affairs at present.
Wilson C. N[icholas] and Duane are both in town at
this time. Some important result is no doubt to flow
from this conjunction. When you return, you will
hardly know the country. A system of espionage
and denunciation has been organized which pervades
every quarter. Distrust and suspicion generally prevail
in the intercourse between man and man. All is
constraint, reserve, and mystery. Intrigue has arrived
at a pitch which I hardly supposed it would have
reached in five centuries. The man of all others who,
I suppose, would be the last suspected by you is the
nucleus of this system. The maxim of Rochefoucauld
is in him completely verified, `that an affectation
of simplicity is the refinement of imposture.'
Hypocrisy and treachery have reached their acme
amongst us. I hope that I shall see you very soon
after your arrival. I can then give you a full explanation
of these general expressions, and proof
that they have been made upon the surest grounds.
Amongst your unshaken friends you may reckon two
of our chancellors, Mr. Nicholson of Maryland, Mr.
Clay of Philadelphia, Col. Jno. Taylor, and Mr.
Macon." "Baltimore, April 12, 1807. . . . As to the
public sentiment, I cannot readily state what it is.
Perhaps there is none. The President's popularity
is unbounded, and his will is that of the nation. His
approbation seems to be the criterion by which the
correctness of all public events is tested. Any treaty,
therefore, which he sanctions will be approved of by
a very large proportion of our people. The federalists
will murmur, but as this is the result of system,
and not of principle, its impression will be neither
deep nor extensive. A literal copy of Jay's treaty,
if ratified by the present administration, would meet
their opposition, while the same instrument, although
heretofore so odious to some of us, would now command
the support of a large body who call themselves
democrats. Such is our present infatuation. To
this general position, however, there are some honest
exceptions. There is a portion who yet retain the
feelings of 1798, and whom I denominate the old
republican party. These men are personally attached
to the President, and condemn his measures when
they think him wrong. They neither wish for nor
expect anything from his extensive patronage. Their
public service is intended for the public good, and has
no view to private emolument or personal ambition.
But it is said they have not his confidence, and I lament
it. You must have perceived from the public
prints that the most active members in the House of
Representatives are new men, and I fear that foreign
nations will not estimate American talent very highly
if our congressional proceedings are taken as the rule.
If you knew the Sloans, the Alstons, and the Bidwells
of the day, and there are a great many of them,
you would be mortified at seeing the affairs of the
nation in such miserable hands. Yet these are styled
exclusively the President's friends. . . . These facts
will enable you to form an early opinion as to the
necessity of remaining in England. You know Mr.
Jefferson perfectly well, and can therefore calculate
the chances of his approving anything done not in
precise conformity to his instructions. He is, however,
somewhat different from what he was. He feels
at present his own strength with the nation, and
therefore is less inclined to yield to the advice of his
friends. Your return is anxiously wished for by
many who, I presume you know, are desirous of putting
you in nomination for the presidency. My own
expectations are not very sanguine on this subject.
Great efforts are making for and by another. The
Virginia and New York elections which take place in
the course of the present month will determine much.
The point is made throughout Virginia, I believe,
and much solicitude is felt and expressed by the candidate
for the presidency as to the result of the several
elections. It is to be hoped, therefore, that you
will return as early as possible." "Bizarre, 25 March, 1807. . . . I fully intended
to have written to you the day before my departure
from Washington, but was prevented by an accident
which had nearly demolished me. Being very unwell
on Monday night, the 2d, and no carriage to be procured,
I accepted the offer of one of his horses from
Dr. Bibb (successor to Spalding), and we set out together
for Georgetown. Not very far beyond our
old establishment (Sally Dashiell's), the only girth
there was to the saddle gave way, and as it fitted the
horse very badly it came with his rider at once to
the ground. Figure to yourself a man almost bruised
to death, on a dark, cold night, in the heart of the
capital of the United States, out of sight or hearing
of a human habitation, and you will have a tolerably
exact idea of my situation, premising that I was previously
knocked up by our legislative orgies, and some
scrapes that our friend Lloyd led me into. With
Bibb's assistance, however, I mounted the other horse,
and we crept along to Crawford's, where I was seized
with a high fever, the effects of which have not yet
left me. To end this Canterbury tale, I did not get
out of bed until Wednesday afternoon, when I left it
to begin a painful journey homewards. Anything,
however, was preferable to remaining within the ten-miles-square
one day longer than I was obliged. . . .
Colonel Burr (quantum mutatus ab illo!) passed by
my door the day before yesterday, under a strong
guard. So I am told, for I did not see him, and
nobody hereabouts is acquainted with his person.
The soldiers escorting him, it seems, indulged his
aversion to be publicly known, and to guard against
inquiry as much as possible he was accoutred in a
shabby suit of homespun, with an old white hat
flapped over his face, the dress in which he was apprehended.
From the description, and indeed the
confession of the commanding officer to one of my
neighbors, I have no doubt it was Burr himself.
His very manner of travelling, although under arrest,
was characteristic of the man, enveloped in mystery." "Richmond, 25 June, 1807. . . . Yesterday the
grand jury found bills of treason and misdemeanor
against Burr and Blennerhassett, una voce, and this
day presented Jonathan Dayton, ex-senator, John
Smith of Ohio, Comfort Tyler, Israel Smith of New
York, and Davis Floyd of Indiana, for treason. But
the mammoth of iniquity escaped; not that any man
pretended to think him innocent, but upon certain
wire-drawn distinctions that I will not pester you
with. Wilkinson is the only man that I ever saw
who was from the bark to the very core a villain. . . .
Perhaps you never saw human nature in so degraded
a situation as in the person of Wilkinson before the
grand jury, and yet this man stands on the very summit
and pinnacle of executive favor, whilst James Monroe
is denounced. As for such men as the quids you speak
of, I should hardly think his Majesty would stoop to
such humble quarry, when James Monroe was in
view. Tazewell, who is writing on the other side of
the table, and whom you surely remember, says that
he makes the fifth. The other four you have not
mistaken. My friend, I am standing on the soil of
my native country, divested of every right for which
our fathers bled. Politics have usurped the place of
law, and the scenes of 1798 are again revived. Men
now see and hear, and feel and think, politically.
Maxims are now advanced and advocated, which
would almost have staggered the effrontery of Bayard
or the cooler impudence of Chauncy Goodrich, when
we were first acquainted. But enough of this! It
will not be long, I presume, before I shall see you
again. The news of the capture of the Chesapeake
arrived this morning, and I suppose the President
will convene Congress, of course. I have been looking
for something of this sort ever since the change
of ministry and rejection of the treaty was announced.
I have tried to avert from my country a war which I
foresaw must succeed the follies of 1805-6, but I
shall not be the less disposed to withdraw her from
it or carry her through with honor." "I have indulged myself in reading once more the
speech to which you allude. It is the inspiration of
divine wisdom, and as such I have ever adored it.
But, my good friend, I cannot with you carry my
zeal so far as to turn missionary and teach the gospel
of politics to the heathens of Washington. More
easily might a camel pass through a needle's eye
than one particle of the spirit of Chatham be driven
into that `trembling council,' to whom the destinies
of this degraded country are unhappily confided. . . .
But great God! what can you expect from men
who take Wilkinson to their bosoms, and at the same
time are undermining the characters of Monroe and
Macon, and plotting their downfall! There is but
15
one sentiment here, as far as I can learn, on the subject
of the late outrage: that, as soon as the fact was
ascertained, Congress should have been convened, a
strict embargo laid, Erskine [the British Minister]
sent home, our Ministers recalled, and then we might
begin to deliberate on the means of enforcing our
rights and extorting reparation. The Proclamation
(or, as I term it, the apology) is received rather
coldly among us. Many persons express themselves
much mortified at it. Every one I see asks what government
means to do, and I might answer, `What
they have always done; nothing!' . . . I should not
be surprised, however, if the Drone or Humble Bee,
(the Wasp has sailed already) should be dispatched
with two millions (this is our standing first bid) to
purchase Nova Scotia, and then we might go to war
in peace and quiet to ascertain its boundaries." "December 24, 1807. . . . Come here, I beseech
you. I will then show you how impossible it was
for me to have voted for the embargo. The circumstances
under which it presented itself were peculiar
and compelled me to oppose it, although otherwise a
favorite measure with me, as you well know. It was,
in fact, to crouch to the insolent mandate of Bonaparte
`that there should be no neutrals;' to subscribe
to that act of perfidy and violence, his decree, at the
moment when every consideration prompted us to resist
and resent it. Non-importation and non-exportation,
— what more can he require? Ought we to
have suffered ourselves to be driven by him out of
the course which, whether right or wrong, our government
had thought proper to pursue towards England?
to be dragooned into measures that in all
human calculation must lead to immediate war? Put
no trust in the newspaper statements. They will
mislead you. But come and view the ground, and I
will abide the issue of your judgment." "December 24, 1807. My dear Sir, — In abstaining
so long from a personal interview with you, I
leave you to judge what violence I have committed
upon my private feelings. Before your arrival, however,
I had determined on the course which I ought
to pursue, and had resolved that no personal gratification
should induce me to hazard your future advancement,
and with it the good of my country, by
any attempt to blend the fate of a proscribed individual
with the destiny which, I trust, awaits you. It is,
nevertheless, of the first consequence to us both that
I should have a speedy opportunity of communing
fully with you. This, perhaps, can be best effected
at my own lodgings, where we shall not be exposed
to observation or interruption. I shall, however,
acquiesce with pleasure in any other arrangement
which may appear more eligible to you. "Georgetown, March 9, 1808. . . . A consciousness
of the misconstruction (to your prejudice)
which would be put upon any correspondence between
us has hitherto deterred me from writing. You will
have no difficulty in conceiving my motives in putting
this violence upon my feelings, especially after the
explanation which I gave of them whilst you were
here. The prospect before us is daily brightening.
I mean of the future, which until of late has been
extremely gloomy. As to the present state of things,
it is far beyond my powers to give an adequate description
of it. Mr. W. C. N. begins of late to
make open advances to the federalists, fearing, no
doubt, that the bait of hypocrisy has been seen through
by others. I must again refer you to Mr. Leigh for
full information of what is going on here. The indiscretion
of some of the weaker brethren, whose
intentions, I have no doubt, were good, as you will
have perceived, has given the enemy great advantage
over us." "February 20, 1808. . . . Our friend gains ground
very fast at home. Sullivan, the Governor of Massachusetts,
has declared against M[adiso]n. The republicans
of that great State are divided on the question,
and if Clay be not deceived, who says that
Pennsylvania, Duane non obstante, will be decidedly
for the V[ice] P[resident], the S[ecretary] of S[tate]
has no chance of being elected. Impress this, I pray
you, on our friends. If the V. P.'s interest should
be best, our electors (in case we succeed) will not
hazard everything by a division. If the election
comes to the House of Representatives M[adiso]n is
the man." "I am really afraid that our friend R. will injure
himself with the nation in this way. An attempt is
now making, and will, I think, be continued, to impress
on the minds of the people that he speaks with a
view to waste time. If this opinion should prevail, it
will, I fear, injure not only him, but the nation also,
because what injures him in public estimation will injure
the people also. His talents and honesty cannot
be lost without a loss equal to them both, and they
cannot be ascertained. But you know him as well as
I do." "Georgetown, February 14, 1811. . . . For
some days past I have been attending the debates in
the Senate. Giles made this morning the most unintelligible
speech on the subject of the Bank of the
U. S. that I ever heard. He spoke upwards of two
hours, seemed never to understand himself (except
upon one commonplace topic, of British influence),
and consequently excited in his hearers no other sentiment
but pity or disgust. But I shall not be surprised
to see him puffed in all the newspapers of a
certain faction. The Senate have rejected the nomination
of Alex. Wolcott to the bench of the Supreme
Court, — 24 to 9. The President is said to have felt
great mortification at this result. The truth seems
to be that he is President de jure only. Who exercises
the office de facto I know not, but it seems
agreed on all hands that there is something behind
the throne greater than the throne itself. I cannot
help differing with you respecting [Gallatin]'s resignation.
If his principal will not support him by his
influence against the cabal in the ministry itself as
well as out of it, a sense of self-respect, it would seem
to me, ought to impel him to retire from a situation
where, with a tremendous responsibility, he is utterly
destitute of power. Our cabinet presents a novel
spectacle in the political world; divided against itself,
and the most deadly animosity raging between its
principal members, what can come of it but confusion,
mischief, and ruin! Macon is quite out of heart. I
am almost indifferent to any possible result. Is this
wisdom or apathy? I fear the latter." The habits of intimacy which have
existed between us make it, as I conceive, my duty to
inform you that reports are industriously circulated in
this city to your disadvantage. They are to this effect:
That in order to promote your election to the Chief
Magistracy of the Commonwealth you have descended
to unbecoming compliances with the members of the
Assembly, not excepting your bitterest personal enemies;
that you have volunteered explanations to them
of the differences heretofore subsisting between yourself
and administration which amount to a dereliction
of the ground which you took after your return
from England, and even of your warmest personal
friends. Upon this, although it is unnecessary for
me to pass a comment, yet it would be disingenuous
to conceal that it has created unpleasant sensations
not in me only, but in others whom I know you
justly ranked as among those most strongly attached
to you. I wished for an opportunity of mentioning
this subject to you, but none offered itself, and I
would not seek one, because, when I cannot afford
assistance to my friends, I will never consent to become
an incumbrance on them. I write in haste, and
therefore abruptly. I keep no copy, and have only
to enjoin on you that this communication is in the
strictest sense of the term confidential, solely for your
own eye. I have purposely delayed answering
your letters because you seem to have taken up the
idea that I labored under some excitement (of an
angry nature it is to be presumed from the expressions
employed in your communication to Colonel
Taylor, as well as in that to myself), and I was desirous
that my reply should in appearance as well as in
fact proceed from the calmest and most deliberate exercise
of my judgment. By you
I would be understood; whether the herd of mankind
comprehend me or not, I care not. Yourself,
the Speaker, and Bryan are, of all the world, alone
acquainted with my real situation. On that subject I
have only to ask that you will preserve the same reserve
that I have done. Do not misunderstand me,
my good friend. I do not doubt your honor or discretion.
Far from it. But on this subject I am, perhaps,
foolishly fastidious. God bless you, my noble
fellow. I shall ever hold you most dear to my heart." | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 196 | Author: | Bruce
William Cabell
1860-1946 | Add | | | Title: | John Randolph of Roanoke, 1773-1833 | | | | Published: | 2007 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | When Randolph reached Richmond on his return from
Russia to Roanoke, he was so ill that he had to take to his
bed; and to bed or room he was confined until a day or so
before the first Monday in November, when he found
himself strong enough to proceed to Charlotte Court
House and to address the people there on that day. On
the second Monday of November, he addressed the people
of Buckingham County, and on the third Monday of
November the people of Prince Edward County; and he
was prevented by rain only from addressing the people of
Cumberland County on the fourth Monday of November.1
1Nov. 27, 1831, Jackson Papers, v. 79, Libr. Cong.
"1. Resolved, that, while we retain a grateful sense of the
many services rendered by Andrew Jackson, Esq., to the
United States, we owe it to our country and to our posterity
to make our solemn protest against many of the doctrines of
his late proclamation. Just as I mounted my horse on
Monday morning at Washington, your truly welcome and
friendly letter was put into my hands. I arrived here this
evening a little before sunset, after a ride on horseback of
thirty-five miles. Pretty well, you'll say, for a man whose
lungs are bleeding, and with a `church-yard cough,' which
gives so much pleasure to some of your New York editors of
newspapers. . . . I am never so easy as when in the saddle.
Nevertheless, if `a gentleman' (we are all gentlemen now-a-days)
who received upwards of £300 sterling for me merely to hand
it over, had not embezzled it by applying it to his own purposes,
I should be a passenger with you on the eighth. I tried
to raise the money by the sale of some property, that only
twelve months ago I was teased to part from (lots and houses
in Farmville, seventy miles above Petersburgh, on Appomattox
river), but could not last week get a bid for it. Such is the
poverty, abject poverty and distress of this whole country. I
have known land (part of it good and wood land) sell for one
dollar an acre, that, ten years ago, would have commanded
ten dollars, and last year five or six. Four fine negroes sold
for three hundred and fifty dollars, and so in proportion. But
I must quit the wretched subject. My pay, as a member of
Congress, is worth more than my best and most productive
plantation, for which, a few years ago, I could have got eighty
thousand dollars, exclusive of slaves and stock. I gave, a few
years since, twenty-seven thousand dollars for an estate. It
had not a house or a fence upon it. After putting it in fine
order, I found that, so far from my making one per cent, or
one-half or one-fourth of one per cent, it does not clear expenses
by about seven hundred and fifty dollars per annum, over and
above all the crops. Yet, I am to be taxed for the benefit of
wool-spinners, &c., to destroy the whole navigating interest
of the United States; and we find representatives from New-Bedford,
and Cape Ann, and Marblehead, and Salem, and
Newburyport, voting for this, if they can throw the molasses
overboard to lighten the ship Tariff. She is a pirate under a
black flag."1
1The New Mirror, v. 2, 71, Nov. 4, 1843.
"I do not remember in any `letters from the South' a description
of a Virginia court-day, and, as I know of nothing which
exhibits in more lively colours the distinctive traits of the
State character, I will employ a little time in sketching a scene
of this kind, which presented itself on Monday, the 2d of
April. The court of Charlotte Co. is regularly held upon
the first Monday of every month, and there is usually a large
concourse of people. This was an occasion of peculiar interest,
as elections for Congress and the State Legislature were
then to take place. As the day was fine, I preferred walking,
to the risk of having my horse alarmed, and driven away by the
hurly-burly of such an assemblage. In making my way along
the great road, which leads from my lodgings to the place of
public resort, I found it all alive with the cavalcades of planters
and country-folk going to the raree show. A stranger would
be forcibly struck with the perfect familiarity with which
all ranks were mingling in conversation, as they moved along
upon their fine pacing horses. Indeed, this sort of equality
exists to a greater degree here than in any country with
which I am acquainted. Here were young men, whose main
object seemed to be the exhibition of their spirited horses,
of the true race breed, and their equestrian skill. The great
majority of persons were dressed in domestic, undyed cloth,
partly from economy, and partly from a State pride, which
leads many of our most wealthy men, in opposing the tariff, to
reject all manufactures which are protected by the Government.
A man would form a very incorrect estimate of the worldly
circumstances of a Virginia planter who should measure his
finances by the fineness of his coat. When I came near to the
village, I observed hundreds of horses tied to the trees of a
neighbouring grove, and further on could descry an immense
and noisy multitude covering the space around the courthouse.
In one quarter, near the taverns, were collected the
mob, whose chief errand is to drink and quarrel. In another,
was exhibited a fair of all kinds of vendibles, stalls of mechanics
and tradesmen, eatables and drinkables, with a long line of
Yankee wagons, which are never wanting on these occasions.
The loud cries of salesmen, vending wares at public auction,
were mingled with the vociferation of a stump orator, who, in
the midst of a countless crowd, was advancing his claims as a
candidate for the House of Delegates. I threaded my way
into this living mass, for the purpose of hearing the oration. A
grey-headed man was discoursing upon the necessity of amending
the State Constitution, and defending the propriety of
calling a convention. His elocution was good, and his arguments
very plausible, especially when he dwelt upon the very
unequal representation in Virginia. This, however, happens
to be the unpopular side of the question in our region and the
populace, while they respected the age and talents of the man
showed but faint signs of acquiescence. The candidate, upon
retiring from the platform on which he had stood, was followed
by a rival, who is well known as his standing opponent.
The latter kept the people in a roar of laughter by a kind of
dry humour which is peculiar to himself. Although far inferior
to the other in abilities and learning, he excels him in all those
qualities which go to form the character of a demagogue. He
appealed to the interests of the planters and slave owners, he
turned into ridicule all the arguments of the former speaker,
and seemed to make his way to the hearts of the people. He
was succeeded by the candidate for the Senate, Henry A.
Watkins, of Prince Edward, a man of great address and
suavity of manner; his speech was short but pungent and
efficient, and, although he lost his election, he left a most
favourable impression upon the public mind. We had still
another address from one of the late delegates who proposed
himself again as a candidate. Before commencing his oration,
he announced to the people that, by a letter from Mr. Randolph,
he was informed that we should not have the pleasure of seeing
that gentleman, as he was confined to his bed by severe illness.
This was a sore disappointment. It was generally expected
that Mr. R. would have been present, and I had cherished the
hope of hearing him once in my life. It would give you no
satisfaction for me to recount to you the several topics of party
politics upon which the several speakers dilated. We
proceeded (or rather as many as could, proceeded) to the courthouse,
where the polls were opened. The candidates, six in
number, were ranged upon the Justices' bench, the clerks were
seated below, and the election began, viva voce. The throng and
confusion were great, and the result was that Mr. Randolph
was unanimously elected for Congress, Col. Wyatt for the
Senate, and the two former members to the Legislature of the
State. After the election, sundry petty squabbles took place
among the persons who had been opposing one another in the
contest. Towards night, a scene of unspeakable riot took place;
drinking and fighting drove away all thought of politics and many
a man was put to bed disabled by wounds and drunkenness.
This part of Virginia has long been celebrated for its breed of
horses. There is scrupulous attention paid to the preservation
of the immaculate English blood. Among the crowd on
this day, were snorting and rearing fourteen or fifteen stallions,
some of which were indeed fine specimens of that noble creature.
Among the rest, Mr. Randolph's celebrated English horse,
Roanoke, who is nine years old, and has never been `backed.'
That which principally contributes to this great collection of
people on our court days is the fact that all public business and
all private contracts are settled at this time. All notes are made
payable on these days, &c., &c. But you must be tired with
Charlotte Court; I am sure that I am."1
1Mar. 13, 1827, 40 Yrs.' Familiar Letters, v. 1, 98.
When, at my departure from Morrisania, in your sister's
presence, I bade you remember the past, I was not apprised of
the whole extent of your guilty machinations. I had nevertheless
seen and heard enough in the course of my short visit
to satisfy me that your own dear experience had availed
nothing toward the amendment of your life. My object was
to let you know that the eye of man as well as of that God, of
whom you seek not, was upon you—to impress upon your mind
some of your duty towards your husband, and, if possible, to
rouse some dormant spark of virtue, if haply any such should
slumber in your bosom. The conscience of the most hardened
criminal has, by a sudden stroke, been alarmed into repentance
and contrition. Yours, I perceive, is not made of penetrable
stuff. Unhappy woman, why will you tempt the forbearance
of that Maker who has, perhaps, permitted you to run your
course of vice and sin that you might feel it to be a life of
wretchedness, alarm and suspicion? You now live in the daily
and nightly dread of discovery. Detection itself can hardly be
worse. Some of the proofs of your guilt, (you know to which
of them I allude); those which in despair you sent me through
Dr. Meade on your leaving Virginia; those proofs, I say, had
not been produced against you had you not falsely used my
name in imposing upon the generous man to whose arms you
have brought pollution! to whom next to my unfortunate
brother you were most indebted, and whom next to him you
have most deeply injured. You told Mr. Morris that I had
offered you marriage subsequent to your arraignment for the
most horrible of crimes, when you were conscious that I never
at any time made such proposals. You have, therefore,
released me from any implied obligation, (with me it would
have been sacred; notwithstanding you laid no injunction of
the sort upon me, provided you had respected my name and
decently discharged your duties to your husband) to withhold
the papers from the inspection of all except my own family. "My husband yesterday communicated to me for the first
time your letter of the last of October, together with that
which accompanied it, directed to him. "This is possibly the last letter that you shall receive from me
until I am liberated from my prison-house. Nine hours quill
driving per day is too much. I give up all my correspondents
for a time, even your Uncle Henry. I must not kill myself
outright. Business, important business, now demands every
faculty of my soul and body. If I fail, if I perish, I shall have
fallen in a noble cause—not the cause of my country only but a
dearer one even than that—the cause of my friend and colleague
[Tazewell]. Had he been here, I should never have
suffered and done what I have done and suffered for his sake;
and what I would not undergo again for anything short of the
Kingdom of Heaven. You mistake my character altogether.
I am not ambitious; I have no thirst for power. That is
ambition. Or for the fame that newspapers etc. can confer.
There is nothing worldly worth having (save a real friend and
that I have had) but the love of an amiable and sensible woman;
one who loves with heart and not with her head out of
romances and plays. That I once had. It is gone never to
return, and it changed and became—my God! To what vile
uses do we come at last! I now refer you to the scene in
Shakespeare, first part of Henry IV at Warworth Castle, where
Lady Percy comes in upon Hotspur who had been reading the
letter of his candid friend. Read the whole of it from the
soliloquy to the end of it. `This (I borrow his words) is no
world to play with mammets and to tilt with lips.' It is for
fribbles and Narcissus and [illegible], idle worthless drones who
encumber the lap of society, who never did and never will do
anything but admire themselves in a glass, or look at their
own legs; it is for them to skulk when friends and country are
in danger. Hector and Hotspur must take the field and go to
the death. The volcano is burning me up and, as Calanthe
died dancing, so may I die speaking. But my country and my
friends shall never see my back in the field of danger or the
hour of death. Continue to write to me but do not expect an
answer until my engagements of duty are fulfilled."1
1Bryan MSS.
"I write not only because you request it, but because it seems
to fill up a half hour in my tedious day. No life can be more
cheerless than mine. Shall I give you a specimen? One day
serves for all. At daybreak, I take a large tumbler of milk
warm from the cow, after which, but not before, I get a refreshing
nap. I rise as late as possible on system and walk before
breakfast about half a mile. After breakfast, I ride over the
same beaten track and return `too weary for my dinner,' which
I eat without appetite, to pass away the time. Before dark, I
go to bed, after having drunk the best part of a bottle of
Madeira, or the whole of a bottle of Hermitage. Wine is my
chief support. There is no variety in my life; even my morning's
walk is over the same ground; weariness and lassitude are
my portion. I feel deserted by the whole world, and a more
dreary and desolate existence than mine was never known
by man. Even our incomparably fine weather has no effect
upon my spirits."2
2Bryan MSS.
I am glad to learn that you are cheerful
and happy. This used to be the season of gladness and joy.
But times are changed now. I am well aware that I have
changed not less, and that no degree of merriment and festivity
would excite in me the same hilarity that I used to feel. But,
laying that consideration aside, or rather, after making the
most ample allowance for it, I cannot be deceived in the fact
that we are an altered people, and altered in my estimation
sadly for the worse. The very slaves have become almost
forgetful of their Saturnalia. Where now are the rousing
`Christmas Fires' and merry, kind-hearted greetings of the
by-gone times? On this day, it used to be my pride to present
my mother with not less than a dozen partridges for an
ample pie. The young people [became] merry and the old
cheerful. I scratched a few lines to you on Thursday
(I think) or Friday, while lying in my bed. I am now out
of it, and somewhat better; but I still feel the barb rankling in
my side. Whether, or not, it be owing to the debility brought
on by disease, I can't contemplate the present and future
condition of my country without dismay and utter hopelessness.
I trust that I am not one of those who (as was said of a
certain great man) are always of the opinion of the book last
read. But I met with a passage in a review (Edinburgh) of
the works and life of Machiavelli that strikes me with great
force as applicable to the whole country south of Patapsco:
`It is difficult to conceive any situation more painful than that
of a great man condemned to watch the lingering agony of an
exhausted country, to tend it during the alternate fits of
stupefaction and raving which precede its dissolution, to see
the signs of its vitality disappear one by one, till nothing is
left but coldness, darkness, and corruption.' "1
1Washington, Feb. 9, 1829, Garland, v. 2, 317.
"I have been interrupted, and I dare say you wish that it had
been the means of putting an untimely end to this prosing epistle.
As however ours is a weekly post, it gives me leisure to
bore you still further. I have no hesitation (nor would you
either, my friend, if you were brought to the alternative) in
preferring the gentleman's mode of deciding a quarrel to the
blackguard's—and if men must fight (and it seems they will)
there is not, as in our politics, a third alternative. A bully
is as hateful as a Drawcansir: Abolish dueling and you
encourage bullies as well in number as in degree, and lay every
gentleman at the mercy of a cowardly pack of scoundrels. In
fine, my good friend, the Yahoo must be kept down, by
religion, sentiment, manners if you can—but he must be kept
down."1
1Roanoke, June 24, 1811, Nicholson MSS., Libr. Cong.
On taking out my chariot this morning,
for the first time, since I got from your house, to clean it and
the harness (for the dreadful weather has frozen us all up until
today), the knife was found in the bottom of the carriage,
where it must have been dropped from a shallow waist-coat
pocket, as I got in at your door, for I missed the knife soon
afterwards. When I got home, I had the pockets of the
chariot searched, and everything there taken out, and it was
not until John had searched strictly into my portmanteau and
bag, taking out everything therein, that I became perfectly
convinced of what I was before persuaded, that I had left the
knife in my chamber in your house on Tuesday the 6th, and,
when I heard it had not been seen, I took it for granted that
your little yellow boy, having `found it,' had, according to the
negro code of morality, appropriated it to himself. In this, it
seems I was mistaken, and I ask his pardon as the best amends
I can make to him; and, at the same time to relieve you and
Mrs. M. from the unpleasant feeling that such a suspicion would
occasion, I dispatch this note by a special messanger, although
I have a certain conveyance tomorrow. I make no apology to
yourself or to Mrs. M. for the frank expression of my suspicion,
because truth is the Goddess at whose shrine I worship, and no
Huguenot in France, or Morisco in Spain, or Judaizing Christian
in Portugal ever paid more severely for his heretical schism
VOL. II—27
than I have done in leaving the established church of falsehood
and grimace. I am well aware that ladies are as delicate as
they are charming creatures, and that, in our intercourse with
them, we must strain the truth as far as possible. Brought up
from their earliest infancy to disguise their real sentiments
(for a woman would be a monster who did not practice this
disguise) it is their privilege to be insincere, and we should
despise [them] and justly too, if they had that manly frankness
and reserve, which constitutes the ornament of our character,
as the very reverse does of theirs. We must, therefore, keep
this in view in all of our intercourse with them, and recollect
that, as our point of honour is courage and frankness, theirs
is chastity and dissimulation, for, as I said before, a woman
who does not dissemble her real feelings is a monster of
impudence. Now, therefore, it does so happen (as Mr.
Canning would say) that truth is very offensive to the ears of a
lady when to those of a gentleman (her husband for instance)
it would be not at all so. To illustrate—Mrs. Randolph of
Bizarre, my brother's widow, was beyond all comparison the
nicest and best house-wife that I ever saw. Not one drop of
water was suffered to stand upon her sideboard, except what
was in the pitcher, the house from cellar to garret, and in every
part [was] as clean as hands could make it, and everything as it
should be to suit even my fastidious taste. "(The severest attack which I have had for a long time,
obliged me to give over writing yesterday. The distress and
anxiety of the last 18 hours are not to be described.) "The last sentence was not finished until today. I have been
very much distressed by my complaint and, as the Packet,
which will carry this, does not sail until Thursday morning, I
have written by snatches. Saturday, I made out to dine with
the famous `Beef Steaks'; which I had a great desire to do.
The scene was unique. Nothing permitted but Beef Steaks
and potatoes, port wine, punch, brandy and water, &c. The
broadest mirth and most unreserved freedoms among the
members; every thing and every body burlesqued; in short, a
party of school boys on a frolic could not have been more
unrestrained in the expression of their merriment. I was
delighted with the conviviality and heartiness of the company.
Among other toasts, we had that `great friend of Liberty,
Prince Metternich' and a great deal more of admirable foolery.
The company waited chiefly on themselves. The songs,
without exception, were mirth-stirring and well sung. In short,
here I saw a sample of old English manners; for the same tone
has been kept up from the foundation of the club—more than a
century. Nothing could be happier than the burlesque
speeches of some of the officers of the club; especially a Mr.
Stephenson (Vice P.) who answered to the call of `Boots!'
Maj. Gen. Sir Andrew Barnard presided admirably, and
another gallant officer, Gen'l Sir Ronald Ferguson, greatly
contributed to our hilarity also. Admiral Dundas (not of the
Scotch clan) a new Ld of Admiralty, who came in for his full
share of humour and left-handed compliments, paid his full
quota towards the entertainment. In short, I have not
chuckled with laughter before since I left Virginia."1
1Sou. Lit. Mess., Richm., Nov. 1856, 382-385.
As there seems little probability that
change of scene will produce any permanent benefit to my
unhappy child, I would wish to know whether you suppose it
could be any disadvantage to him to have him removed to
Bizarre, where, in a few weeks, I can have a very comfortable
room fitted up for myself. You say that you think the negroes
can restrain St. George sufficiently, and that he shows no disposition
to injure persons or animals. If so, there is no reason
why you should suffer exclusively the melancholy sight which
it is my duty and my inclination to relieve you from. At this
place, he cannot be kept; the vicinity of the highroad; the
tavern opposite, which is now continually visited by strangers,
together with the excessive heat and sun in this house, would
destroy him. In his own little apartment at Bizarre, he could
be very comfortable; it is so well shaded. Oh! had we never
quitted that spot, desolate as it now is! my child would never
have lost his reason! A more guileless, innocent and happy
creature I believe never existed than he, until that fatal calamity
which sent us forth houseless."1
1Farmville, June 28, 1814, Bryan MSS.
Do you love gardening? I hope you do,
for it is an employment eminently suited to a lady. That
most graceful and amiable friend of mine, [Mrs. Dr. John
Brockenbrough] whom you now never mention in your letters,
excels in it, and in all the domestic arts that give its highest
value to the female character. The misfortune of your sex is
that you are brought up to think that love constitutes the
business of life, and, for want of other subjects, your heads run
upon little else. This passion, which is `the business of the idle
man, the amusement of the hero, and the bane of the sovereign,'
occupies too much of your time and thoughts. I never
knew an idle fellow who was not profligate (a rare case to be
sure), that was not the slave of some princess, and, no matter
how often the subject of his adoration was changed by a marriage
with some more fortunate swain, the successor (for there
is no demise of that crown) was quickly invested with the
attributes of her predecessor, and he was dying of love for her
lest he should die of the gapes. To a sorry fellow of this sort a
mistress is as necessary an antidote against ennui as tobacco;
but to return to gardening, I never saw one of those innumerable
and lovely seats in England without wishing for one for
Mrs. B. [Brockenbrough] who would know so well how to
enjoy while she admired it. I beg pardon of the Wilderness a thousand
times. I have no doubt that it is a most respectable desert,
with a charming little oasis inhabited by very good sort of
people, quite different from the wandering Barbarians around
them. To say the truth, I was a little out of temper with the
aforesaid desert because it had subjected me more than
once to disappointment in regard to you. At Fredericksburg,
you seem to be within my reach: but there I can't get at you.
I am too much of a wild man of the woods myself to take upon
me airs over my fellow-savages. And I shall be willing hereafter
to rank your wilderness along with the far-famed forest of
Arden. By the way, this is not saying much for it. I traveled
two weary days' journey through the Ardennes in 1826. Figure
for yourself a forest of beech and alder saplings intersected
by a thousand cart tracks, the soil, if soil it might be called,
strongly resembling the Stafford Hills of Virginia, and where,
instead of spreading oaks or beech, under which I hoped to find
Angelica asleep by a crystal stream, we had much ado to find
a drop of water for our sorry cattle, who painfully drew us
through the ruts of a narrow, hollow way, deeply worn in the
uneven ground, and sheltered from everything but the sun
(In August) by a thicket of brushwood, through which, every
now and then, peeped the sooty figure of a charcoal burner.
I did not expect to meet with Rosalind or Orlando, because I
had corrected a former misapprehension in regard to the scene
of that enchanting drama. Shakespeare, it seems, so say the
critics, had in his eye the forest of Arden in his native Warwickshire,
and a delightful forest it would be, if there were fewer
towns and villages and more trees. As it is, however, it is
what is called in England a woody tract, and the woodmen of
Arden meet there annually, and contend for prizes in archery
(a silver arrow or bugle); excited by the smiles of all the `Beauty
and Fashion' of the neighboring country. My late apparent rashness, I am overjoyed
to see, has not wounded you. That it has made you
uneasy, I regret, but why was I so moved; because I love you
more than worlds. I am the man in the book with one little
ewe lamb: but I am not the man tamely to see the wolf carry it
away. I will resist even unto blood. My fate was in your
hands. When you come to know my history, you will see what
it is that makes me what the world would call desperate.
Desperation is the fruit of guilt, of remorse. It is for the
unjust. It is for the wretched who had rather steal than work.
It is for the Harrels (see Cecilia) who prefer hell at home and
in their own bosoms to the foregoing of dress, and shew, and
parties, and an equipage, when their fortune will not afford a
wheelbarrow."2
2Mar. 30, 1828, Bryan MSS.
When I got home from Richmond,
a fortnight ago, Dr. Dudley informed me that he had, that
very morning, sent letters for me to that place by my wagon—
`one from Rutledge.' (I come a different road until within a
few miles of my own house.) At length, `the heavy rolling
wain' has returned—a safer, and ofttimes a swifter, conveyance
than the Post—and I have the pleasure to read your letter
written on my birthday. I hope you will always celebrate
it in the same way, and, as probably you never knew that
important fact, or have forgotten it, I must inform you that it
falls just two days before that of our sometime king, on the
anniversary of whose nativity you tell me you had proposed to
set out, or, as it is more elegantly expressed in our Doric idiom,
`to start' for the good old thirteen United States. I am too
unwell and too much fatigued to say much more than to
VOL. II.—35
express my disappointment at not seeing you on your Atlantic
Pilgrimage. I knew that I did not lie in your route, and, altho'
I had no right to expect such a deflection from your line of
march, yet, somehow or other, joining an expression of one
of your letters and my own wishes together, I made up a sort of
not very confident hope of seeing you in my solitary cabin—
`bag [and] baggage' as you say. I acknowledge that my construction
of your language was strained, but, when once we
have set our hearts upon anything, `trifles light as air' serve our
purpose as well as `holy writ.' And so you have been given
back like another Orpheus by the infernal regions—but without
leaving your Eurydice behind you. I suspect you cast no
`longing, lingering look behind.' Pray tell me whether your
Ixions of the West (whom I take to be true `crackers') stopped
their wheels, as you passed; or Tantalus forgot his thirst, and
put by the untasted whiskey. Since you left us, I have been deeply
engaged in what you advised. I have reviewed the Roman
and Grecian history; I have done more; I have reviewed my
own. Believe me, Jack, that I am less calculated for society
than almost any man in existence. I am not perhaps a vain
fool, but I have too much vanity, and I am too susceptible
of flattery. I have that fluency which will attract attention
and receive applause from an unthinking multitude. Content
with my superiority, I should be too indolent to acquire real,
useful knowledge. I am stimulated by gratitude, by friendship
and by love to make exertions now. I feel confident that you
will view my foibles with a lenient eye; that you will see me
prosper and in my progress be delighted."1
1Garland, v. 1, 73.
I am not ceremonious. I feel a conviction
that your silence does not proceed from a want of regard, but
from a cause more important to the world, to yourself, and, if
possible, more distressing to me than the loss of that place in
your heart, on which depends my future prosperity. I had
fondly hoped that the change of scene, and the novelty of
business, would have dissipated that melancholy which overhung
you. To see my friend return happy and well, was the
only wish of my heart. "What are my emotions, dearest brother, at seeing your
horse thus far on his way to return you among us! How
eagerly do I await the appointed day! Ryland [Randolph]
has returned, and another of the children of misfortune will
seek refuge and consolation under this hospitable roof. He
has promised me by letter to be with us in a day or two. What
pleasure do I anticipate in the society of our incomparable
sister, in yours, in Ryland's! I wish I had the vanity to
suppose I was worthy of it. "Your letter was `right welcome unto me,' as my favorite
old English writers say or sing, but much more welcome was
the bearer of it. Son of yours, even with far less claims from
his own merit than this gentleman obviously possesses, shall
never be shown the `cauld shoulther.' I hope that you'll
pardon my using the Waverley tongue, which I must fear bodes
no good to the good old English aforesaid, and which I shall
therefore leave to them that like it,—which I do not, out of
its place,—and not always there. In short, I have not catched
the literary `Scotch fiddle,' and, in despite of Dr. Blair, do
continue to believe that Swift and Addison understood their
own mother tongue as well as any Sawney, `benorth tha'
Tweed.' Nay, further, not having the fear of the Edinburgh
Reviewers before my eyes, I do not esteem Sir Walter to be a
poet, or the Rev. Dr. Chalmers a pulpit orator. But, as I do
not admire Mr. Kean, I fear that my reputation for taste
is, like my earthly tabernacle, in a hopeless state. "If my memory does not deceive me," Randolph said, "you
made me a sort of promise last winter to give Mr. Wood a
sitting for me. Will you pardon the reminding you of this
engagement by one who is too sensible of the kindness he received
from you not to wish for a memorial of him by whom it
was shown. Your portrait will make a most suitable companion
for that of the Chief Justice, who was good enough to sit
for me; and I mention this to show you that you will not be in
company that should disgrace you. This is no common-place address, for
without profession or pretension such you have quietly and
modestly proved yourself to be, while, like Darius, I have been "As well as very bad implements and worse eyes will permit
me to do it by candlelight, I will endeavor to make some return
to your kind letter, which I received, not by Quashee, but the
mail. I also got a short note by him, for which I thank you.
. . . And now, my dear friend, one word in your ear—in
the porches of thine ear. With Archimedes, I may cry Eureka.
Why, what have you found—the philosopher's stone? No—
something better than that. Gyges' ring? No. A substitute
for bank paper? No. The elixir vitœ, then? It is; but it is
the elixir of eternal life. It is that peace of God which passeth
all understanding, and which is no more to be conceived of by
the material heart than poor St. George can be made to feel and
taste the difference between the Italian and German music.
It is a miracle, of which the person, upon whom it is wrought,
alone is conscious—as he is conscious of any other feeling—e.g.
whether the friendship he professes for A or B be a real sentiment
of his heart, or simulated to serve a turn. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 197 | Author: | Woods
Edgar | Add | | | Title: | Albemarle County in Virginia | | | | Published: | 2007 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | The settlement of Virginia was a slow and gradual process.
Plantations were for the most part opened on the
water courses, extending along the banks of the James, and
on the shores of the Chesapeake Bay and its tributaries.
It was more than a century after the landing at Jamestown
before white men made the passage of the Blue Ridge. As
soon as that event was noised abroad, it was speedily followed
up, and in the space of the next twenty years the tide
of population had touched the interior portions of the colony,
one stream pushing westward from the sea coast, and
another rolling up the Shenandoah Valley from the wilds of
Pennsylvania. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 199 | Author: | Charlottesville (Va.) | Add | | | Title: | Charter, ordinances and by-laws of the town of Charlottesville, Va. | | | | Published: | 2007 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | Sec. 1. Be it enacted by the general assembly of Virginia, That so much of
the land as lies and is contained within the following boundary: Beginning at
a stone on the north side of Alexander Garrett's lane, thence with said lane
south sixty-nine and one-half degrees east, fourteen, twenty-eight poles to the
west side of Merewether's mill road; thence with said road north thirty degrees
east twenty-one, twenty poles; thence crossing said road south sixty-seven
and one-half degrees east, thirty-four, forty poles to a fence between James
Minor and A. J. Farish; thence north thirty-one and one-half degrees east, fifteen,
forty-four poles to the Chesapeake and Ohio railroad; thence with said
road south eighty degrees east seventeen, twenty eight poles; thence north
fourteen degrees east, about eighteen, forty-four poles to the entrance of Goodman's
lane, on the south side of the turnpike; thence along the south margin
of said turnpike south sixty-one and three-fourths degrees east, eighty-two and
one-third poles to a point opposite the southwest corner of Thomas L. Farish's
lawn; thence crossing the turnpike road and following the fence of said lawn
north twenty-eight and one-half degrees east, thirty-six poles to a white oak
ree opposite said Farish's house; thence north thirty-one and one-fourth degrees
east, twenty-five to a point near the northwest corner of the said Farish's
garden: thence in a line parallel to the east line of the Institute lot, and
running north twenty-four and one half degrees east, fifty and one half poles,
crossing the free bridge road, to a point on the north side of said road; thence
following the north margin said road south eighty-five degrees west, ninety-six
and one fourth poles to a point opposite the northeast corner of the Anderson
lot, in the present corporation line; thence with said line north ten and one
fourth degrees west to the corner of the graveyard wall, next to the old brickyard;
thence in the direction of a poplar tree in the corner of the old brick-yard
lot north twenty one and one fourth degrees east, twenty-six twenty poles to a
stone set in a field; thence crossing the old brick-yard, and with the south side
of the street leading to Park street, north seventy-four degrees west, forty-eight,
sixty-four poles to a stake corner to Shelton F. Leake's; thence north seventy-three
degrees west, eighty-four forty-four poles to a stone in Mrs. Gilmer's field;
thence south thirty-six and one fourth degrees west to a stone in the field, thirty-five,
fifty-six poles; thence south twenty-eight degrees west to a stone in B.
C. Flannagan's field forty-eight, sixty-four poles; thence south eighty-three degrees
west, fifty-six poles to Verinda West's corner; thence up the road south
seventeen degrees west thirteen, twelve poles; thence north seventy degrees
west, twenty-five poles to a stone set in a field at the back of Mrs. Digg's lot;
thence south twenty degrees west, twenty-eight, eighty poles to a locust tree in
Mrs. Reyburn's; thence with the same course sixteen poles to a stake in James
M. Hodge's lot, near the house; thence south sixty-nine and one half degrees
east, twenty-two, twenty poles to Minerva Kenney's, to a stake in the fence near
the kitchen; thence north thirty degrees east, six, twenty-eight poles to Alexander
Garrett's lane by the railroad; thence with the said line when completed,
south sixty-nine and one half degrees east, one hundred and thirty-eight, seventy-six
poles to the beginning (being nearly the same limits as are prescribed in
section one of an act passed fourteenth March, eighteen hundred and sixty, entitled
an act to amend the charter and extend the corporate limits of the town
of Charlottesville) shall be and is hereby made a town corporate, by the name
and style of the Town of Charlottesville; and by that name shall sue and be
sued, and shall have and exercise all the powers and be subject to all the provisions
of the Code of Virginia, except so far as may be herein otherwise provided. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 200 | Author: | Bruce
William Cabell
1860-1946 | Add | | | Title: | John Randolph of Roanoke, 1773-1833 | | | | Published: | 2007 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | "I thank you for your good advice in your letter to Mamma,
but I am such a perverse boy that I wish I had a tutor to make
me mind my book as I cannot help wishing to play when it is
time to read. I want to learn everything, but I cannot love
confinement; and what is worse, the more I play the more I
want to play; but I am sure when I go regularly to school I
shall not be behind my brothers. Brother Hal is much cleverer
than sister for his age though she is much improved in talking
and walking. We are all wanting to see you; I was never so
rejoiced as when we got your letter to leave Roanoke. I am
my dear papa yr. dutyfull son "I take this oppty of letting you know that we are all well
and that I missed my ague at Roanoke. Mama and Mrs.
Hartston hung up Abracadabra as a charm for that and to keep
away the enemy. Sister is worth a dozen of what she was when
you left her. She says anything and runs about all day. I
hope you are in favour with the Marquis. I don't doubt it,
for I think you a very fine officer and will be able to make the
militia fight, for if they do not now I don't think they ever will
be collected after running away. Brother Dicky has turned
me back from the optitive of amo to the potential mood of
audio because Mr. Hearn never taught me. I thank you my
dr papa for telling me in your letter to be a good boy and mind
my book. I do love my book and mind it as much as I can
myself, but we want a tutor very much. I hope in a month I
shall be passing my Concords. I will try all I can to be a good
boy and a favourite of Mama's and when you come home I
hope I shall be one of yours. "You have doubtless, my ever dear and affectionate Papa,
received Accounts of the Adoption of the new Constitution by
the State of New York; the majority consisting of five only.
On Wednesday 26th inst. (4 days previous to our hearing of
the ratification of this State), there was a very grand Procession
in this city (on account of its being received by ten States)
which proceeded from the plain before Bridewell down Broadway
thro' Wall Street; and, by the way of Great Queen Street,
proceeded to the Federal Green before Bunker's Hill, where
there were tables set for more than five thousand people to
Dine. Two Oxen were roasted whole and several cows and
Sheep. I'll assure [you], my dear Sir, it put me in mind of the
great Preparations which were made in Don Quixote for the
wedding of Camacho and the rich and the fair Quiteria. There
were ten tables set out to represent the ten States which had
acceded to the Constitution; all which were concentered together
at one end, like the sticks of a Fan; where they joined
were seated all the Congress with the President in the middle.
The Procession was very beautiful and well conducted. Every
trade and profession had a Colour emblematical of it. The
chief of the Bakers were drawn on a stage, on which they were
seen mixing their bread; the apprentices, all in white, followed
with ready-baked Cakes. The Coopers followed, making
barrels, and the apprentices followed with a keg under the arm
of each. Next came the Brewers, bringing hogsheads of beer
along with a little Bacchus astride a Cask, holding a large
Goblet in his hand. It would require too much time for me to
tell you of all the different occupations, but, to the honor of
New York, be it spoken that, among 8000 people, who were
said to have dined together on the green, there was not a single
Drunken Man or fight to be seen. On Saturday, the 27th
Inst., news arrived of the Constitution's being adopted. A
party of Federalists, as they call themselves, went to the house
VOL. I—8
of Mr. Greenleaf, printer of the Patriotic Register, and, after
having broken his windows and thrown away his Types (much
to their discredit), went to the Governor's, where they gave
three hisses, and beat the rogue's march around the house.
They proceeded to the houses of the Federals (as they call
them) and gave three cheers."1
1N. Y. Pub. Lib.
"You will no doubt, my ever dear Father, be much astonished
when I tell you that, by the time you receive this, I
shall be far on my return to Williamsburg; and you will be yet
more surprised at hearing that I mean to spend the summer in
one of the Northern States. Since I saw you, I have been informed
that the late horrid and malicious lie, which has been
for some time too freely circulated, has been, by the diligent
exertion of those timid enemies (whom I have not been able by
any insult to force to an interview) so impressed, during my
absence, on the minds of every one, that a public enquiry into
it is now more than ever necessary. Having endeavored, by
every method I could devise, to bring William Randolph [one
of Nancy's brothers] to a personal explanation of his conduct,
and to give me personal satisfaction for his aspersions of my
character, and finding that no insult is sufficient to rouse his
feelings (if he has any), I have at last urged Col. Tom to bring
an action of slander against him. This will bring the whole
affair once more before the eyes of every one, the circumstances,
from beginning to end, of the persons accusing and
accused will be seen at once, and the villainy of my traducers
fully exposed. When this is done, I shall once more know the
blessing of a tranquil mind! . . . "I received your letter of the 13th inst. this morning. You
must be equally conscious with myself that the idea of representing
this district in Congress never originated with me;
and I believe I may with truth assert that it is one which I
never should have entertained, had it not been suggested, in
the first instance, by my friends. I am now as well satisfied,
as I was when you first made to me the proposal of permitting
my friends to declare my willingness to serve my fellow-citizens
in the House of Representatives, that it is an office to which I
can not rationally entertain the smallest pretensions. I,
therefore, willingly resign any which my friends may have formed
for me to any person whom they may approve, and
shall feel happy in giving my vote—interest I have none, and
did I possess any, my principles would forbid my using it on
such an occasion—to a man for whose character I entertain so
high an opinion as that which I have borne ever since my acquaintance
with him for Citizen Daniel's. When I was in
Amelia, I wrote to Citizen Venable, informing him briefly of the
authentic report of his intended resignation, and also that some
of my friends had proposed taking a vote for me. This I was
impelled to do by my sense of propriety, since to me it appeared
highly indelicate that such a thing should be even whispered
before he was informed that it was in agitation. Accept Citizen
my most sincere regards and believe me with truth your friend. "Having stated the facts, it would be derogatory to your
character for me to point out the remedy. So far as they
relate to this application, addressed to you in a public capacity,
they can only be supposed by you to be of a public nature.
VOL. I—11
It is enough for me to state that the independence of the
Legislature has been attacked and the majesty of the people,
of which you are the principal representative, insulted and
your authority contemned. In their name, I demand that a
provision, commensurate with the evil, be made, and which
will be calculated to deter others from any future attempts to
introduce the Reign of Terror into our country. In addressing
you in this plain language of man, I give you, Sir, the best
proof I can afford of the estimation in which I hold your office
and your understanding; and I assure you with truth that I am
with respect your fellow citizen, John Randolph. "Seven times we have balloted—eight states for J—six for
Burr—two, Maryland and Vermont divided; voted to postpone
for an hour the process; now half past four resumed—
result the same. The order against adjourning made with a
view to Mr. Nicholson, who was ill, has not operated. He left
his sick bed—came through a snow storm—brought his bed,
and has prevented the vote of Maryland from being given to
Burr. Mail closing. "To the Freeholders of Charlotte, Prince Edward, Buckingham
and Cumberland: Fellow Citizens: I dedicate to you
the following fragment. That it appears in its present
mutilated shape is to be ascribed to the successful usurpation
which has reduced the freedom of speech in one branch of the
American Congress to an empty name. It is now established
for the first time and in the person of your representative that the
House may and will refuse to hear a member in his place, or
even to receive a motion from him upon the most momentous
subject that can be presented for legislative decision. A
similar motion was brought forward by the Republican minority
in the year 1798 before these modern inventions for stifling
the freedom of debate were discovered. It was discussed as a
matter of right until it was abandoned by the mover in consequence
of additional information (the correspondence of our
envoy at Paris) laid before Congress by the President. In
`the reign of terror' the father of the Sedition Law had not
the hardihood to proscribe liberty of speech, much less the
right of free debate on the floor of Congress. This invasion
of the public liberties was reserved for self-styled Republicans
who hold your understandings in such contempt as to flatter
themselves that you will overlook their every outrage upon
the great first principles of free government in consideration of
their professions of tender regard for the privileges of the
people. It is for you to decide whether they have undervalued
your intelligence and spirit or whether they have formed a just
estimate of your character. You do not require to be told that
the violation of the rights of him, whom you have deputed to
represent you, is an invasion of the rights of every man of you,
of every individual in society. If this abuse be suffered to pass
unredressed—and the people alone are competent to apply the
remedy—we must bid adieu to a free form of government
forever. Having learned from various sources that a declaration
of war would be attempted on Monday next with closed
doors, I deemed it my duty to endeavor by an exercise of my
constitutional functions to arrest this heaviest of all calamities
and avert it from our happy country. I accordingly made the
effort of which I now give you the result, and of the success of
which you will have already been informed before these pages
can reach you. I pretend only to give you the substance of my
unfinished argument. The glowing words, the language of the
heart have passed away with the occasion that called them
forth. They are no longer under my control. My design
is simply to submit to you the views which have induced me to
consider a war with England, under existing circumstances, as
comporting neither with the interest nor the honor of the
American people; but as an idolatrous sacrifice of both on the
altar of French rapacity, perfidy and ambition. For so, without ceremony, permit me to
call you. Among the few causes that I find for regret at my
dismissal from public life, there is none in comparison with
the reflection that it has separated me—perhaps forever—from
some who have a strong hold on my esteem and on my affections.
It would indeed have been gratifying to me to see once
more yourself, Mr. Meade [Rev. Wm. Meade, of Virginia],
Ridgely [Andrew Sterrett Ridgely], and some few others; and
the thought that this may never be is the only one that infuses
any thing of bitterness into what may be termed my disappointment,
if a man can be said to be disappointed when
things happen according to his expectations. On every other
account, I have cause of self-congratulation at being disenthralled
from a servitude at once irksome and degrading.
The grapes are not sour—you know the manner in which you
always combated my wish to retire. Although I have not, like
you, the spirit of a martyr, yet I could not but allow great
force to your representations. To say the truth, a mere sense
of my duty alone might have been insufficient to restrain me
from indulging the very strong inclination which I have felt for
many years to return to private life. It is now gratified in a
way that takes from me every shadow of blame. No man can
reproach me with the desertion of my friends, or the abandonment
of my post in a time of danger and of trial. `I have
fought the good fight, I have kept the faith.' I owe the public
nothing; my friends, indeed, are entitled to everything at my
hands; but I have received my discharge, not indeed honestam
dimissionem, but passable enough, as times go, when delicacy
is not over-fastidious. I am again free, as it respects the
public at least, and have but one more victory to achieve to be
so in the true sense of the word. Like yourself and Mr. Meade,
I cannot be contented with endeavoring to do good for goodness'
sake, or rather for the sake of the Author of all goodness.
In spite of me, I cannot help feeling something very like contempt
for my poor foolish fellow-mortals, and would often
consign them to Bonaparte in this world, and the devil, his
master, in the next; but these are but temporary fits of misanthropy,
which soon give way to better and juster feelings."1
1Garland, v. 2, 11.
Your letter being addressed to Farmville,
did not reach me until yesterday, when my nephew
brought it up. Charlotte Court House is my post-office. By
my last you will perceive that I have anticipated your kind
office in regard to my books and papers at Crawford's. Pray
give them protection `until the Chesapeake shall be fit for
service.' It is, I think, nearly eight years since I ventured to
play upon those words in a report of the Secretary of the
Navy. I have read your letter again and again, and cannot
express to you how much pleasure the perusal has given me. "Your letter of the 14th was received today—many thanks
for it. By the same mail, Mr. Quincy sent me a copy of his
speech of the 30th of last month. It is a composition of much
ability and depth of thought; but it indicates a spirit and a
temper to the North which is more a subject of regret than of
surprise. The grievances of Lord North's administration
were but as a feather in the scale, when compared with those
inflicted by Jefferson and Madison."2
2Ibid., 14.
You lay me under obligations which I know
not how to requite, and yet I cannot help requesting a continuance
of them. I have been highly gratified today by the
receipt of your letter of the 5th, and the accompanying pamphlet.
I have read them both with deep attention, and with a
melancholy pleasure which I should find it difficult to describe.
You are under some misapprehension respecting my opinions
in regard to certain men and measures—the true sources of our
present calamities. They are not materially, if at all, variant
from your own. It is time indeed to speak out; but, if, as I
fear, the canine race in New York have returned to their
vomit, the voice of truth and of patriotism will be as the voice
of one crying in the wilderness. I feel most sensibly
the difficulties of our situation, but the question is as to the
remedy. "You will perceive by the enclosed letter, in case the fact
shall have failed to reach you through any other channel, that
the enemies whom it has been my lot to make in the discharge
of the duties of the station, to which I had been called by the
public suffrage, seem unwilling to allow me even the repose
of that retirement, to which, after many baffled efforts, they
have succeeded in persuading my late constituents to consign
me. I shall not stop to enquire how far such a proceeding be
honorable, or even politic, as it regards the views of those, who
have allowed themselves to adopt it; although the people, with
whom it was once my pride to be connected, must have undergone
some strange metamorphosis, not less rapid and disastrous
than that which our unhappy country has experienced
within the same period of time, if there be one among them
that does not see through the motives of those who would
entreat them to turn their eyes from the general calamity and
shame, and the shameless authors of them, to the faults and
indiscretions, real or imputed, of an old, dismissed public
servant, whose chief offence in the eyes of his accusers is that,
foreseeing mischief, he labored to avert it. Nine years have
now elapsed since he raised his voice against the commencement
of a system of measures, which, although artfully disguised,
were calculated, as he believed, to produce what we
have all seen, and are fated long to feel. Had they, who derided
what they were then pleased to term his `mournful vaticinations,
the reveries of a heated and disordered imagination,'
confided less in their own air-built theories, and taken warning
ere it was too late, they might be riding on `the full tide of
successful experiment,' instead of clinging with instinctive and
convulsive grasp to the wreck, which themselves have made of
public credit, of national honor, of peace, happiness and security,
and of faith among men. The very bonds, not only of
union between these states, but of society itself are loosened,
and we seem `approaching towards that awful dissolution, the
issue of which it is not given to human foresight to scan.' In
the virtue, the moderation, the fortitude of the People is
(under God) our last resource. Let them ever bear in mind
that from their present institutions there is no transition but to
military despotism; and that there is none more easy. Anarchy
is the chrysalis state of despotism; and to that state have the
measures of this government long tended, amidst professions,
such as we have heard in France and seen the effects of, of
Liberty, Equality, Fraternity. None but the people can forge
their own chains; and to flatter the people and delude them by
promises never meant to be performed is the stale but successful
practice of the demagogue, as of the seducer in private
life.—`Give me only a helve for my axe,' said the woodman in
the fable to the tall and stately trees, that spread their proud
heads and raised their unlopped arms to the air of heaven.
`Give me an Army,' says the wily politican. It is only to fight
the English, to maintain `Free trade and sailors' rights'; and,
dazzled by the `pride, pomp and circumstance of glorious
war,' heedless of the miseries that lurk beneath its splendor,
the People have said Amen! Of these the heavy debts and
grinding taxes, that follow in its train, are, perhaps, the least.
Disease and vice, in new unheard-of forms, spread from the
camp throughout society. Not a village, not a neighborhood,
hardly a family escapes the infection. The searching miseries
of war penetrate even into the hovel of the shivering negro
whose tattered blanket and short allowance of salt bear witness
to the glories of that administration under which his
master is content to live. His master, no doubt some `Southern
Nabob,' some `Haughty Grandee of Virginia,' the very
idea of whose existence disturbs the repose of over-tender consciences,
is revelling in luxury which the necessary wants of
his wretched bondsmen are stinted to supply. Such is the
stuff that dreams are made of! The master, consumed by
cares, from which even the miserable African is free, accustomed
to the decent comforts of life, is racking his brain for
ways and means to satisfy the demands of the taxgatherer.
You see the struggle between his pride and his necessity. That
ancient relic of better times, on which he bends his vacant eye,
must go. It is, itself, the object of a new tax. He can no longer
afford to keep it. Moreover, he must find a substitute for his
youngest boy called into service. His eldest son has perished
in the tentless camp, the bloodless but fatal fields of the fenny
country; and even for the cherished resemblance of this favorite
child he must pay tribute to Caesar. The tear that starts
into his eye, as he adds this item to the inventory of exaction,
would serve but to excite a philosophic smile in the `Grimm'
Idol (see the diplomatic Baron's correspondence) of the Levee
and its heartless worshippers. "This date says everything. I arrived here on Sunday
afternoon, and am now writing from the Grand Hotel de Castile,
Rue Richelieu and Boulevard des Italiens; for, as the
French say, it `gives' upon both, having an entrance from
each. "A month has now elapsed since I landed in England, during
which time I have not received a line from any friend, except
Benton, who wrote to me on the eve of his departure from
Babylon the Great to Missouri. Missouri!, and here am I
writing in the parlor of the New Inn, at the gate of Mr. Coke's
park, where art has mastered nature in one of her least amiable
moods. To say the truth, he that would see this country to
advantage must not end with the barren sands and flat,
infertile healths (strike out the l; I meant to write heaths) of
the east country, but must reserve the vale of Severn and
Wales for a bonne bouche. Although I was told at Norwich
that Mr. Coke was at home (and by a particular friend of his
too), yet I find that he and Lady Anne are gone to the very
extremity of this huge county to a wool fair, at Thetford,
sixty-five miles off; and, while my companion, Mr. Williams,
of S. C. (son of David R. W.), is gone to the Hall, I am resolved
to bestow, if not `all,' a part at least of `my tediousness'
upon you. Tediousness, indeed, for what have I to write
about, unless to tell you that my health, so far from getting
better, was hardly ever worse? . . . Mr. Williams has been
very attentive and kind to me. I have been trying to persuade
him to abandon me to the underwriters as a total loss, but he
will not desert me; so that I meditate giving him the slip for his
own sake. We saw Dudley Inn and a bad race at Newmarket,
on our way to Norwich. There we embarked on the river Yare,
and proceeded to Yarmouth by the steampacket. We returned
to Norwich by land, and by different routes; he, by the
direct road, and I, by Beccles, fifteen miles further; and yet I
arrived first. Through Lord Suffield's politeness, who gave
me a most hearty invitation to Gunton, I was enabled to see
the Castle (now the county jail) to the best advantage. His
lordship is a great prison discipline financier, and was very
polite to me when I was in England four years ago. I met
him by mere accident at the inn at Norwich, where the coach
from Beccles stopped. . . . " `The Portfolio reached me in safety.' So much had I written
of a letter to you in London, but I was obliged to drop my pen
in G. Marx' compting-house, and here I am, and at your service
at The Hague. . . . "It is now agreed on all hands that misery, crime and profligacy
are in a state of rapid and alarming increase. The Pitt
and paper system (for although he did not begin it, yet he
brought it to its last stage of imperfection) is now developing
features that `fright the isle from its propriety.' "Mr. W. J. Barksdale writes his father that a run will be
made at me by G—s [Giles] this winter. On this subject, I
can only repeat what I have said before—that, when the Commonwealth
of Virginia dismisses a servant, it is strong presumptive
evidence of his unfitness for the station. If it shall
apply to my own case, I cannot help it. But I should have
nothing to wish on this subject, if the Assembly could be put
in possession of a tolerably faithful account of what I have said
and done. I have been systematically and industriously misrepresented.
I had determined to devote this last summer
to a revision of my speeches, but my life would have paid
the forfeit, had I persisted in that determination. Many
of the misrepresentations proceed from the `ineffable stupidity'
of the reporters, but some must, I think, be intentional.
. . . In most instances, my meaning has been
mistaken. In some, it has been reversed. If I live, I will set
this matter right. So much for Ego. You might know by the date (as regards the month) that I
was in the only realm in Christendom, where the new style is
not yet introduced. Much to my disappointment, your old
friend, Mr. Lewis, is not here. He is & has been for sometime
in England. I therefore sent your letter to his Compting
House as the most ready mode of getting it to his hands. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
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