| | 2 | Author: | Lindsay
James H.
(James Hubert)
1862-1933 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The McCue murder  | | | | Published: | 2006 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | On Sunday, September 4, 1904, J. Samuel McCue, for twenty years a
member of the Charlottesville Bar, just retired from his third term as
Mayor of that city, reputed rich man, and officer in the Presbyterian
Church, arrived about 6 o'clock from Washington, where he had been
for several days, on what business does not appear, although Mrs.
McCue had been informed by him that he was in the National Capital
taking depositions in a murder case. An hour before he reached the
city Mrs. Fannie M. McCue, his wife, had come in from Red Hill, a
small station on the Southern railway, some seven miles south of Charlottesville,
and was at home when her husband entered the house.
Without going into the parlor, where she was with a visitor, he went
upstairs to the bath-room to rid himself of the stains of travel. When
he met her, the manner of his greeting, and all other details of that
evening until the supper hour, are lacking. The occurrences at the
evening meal come into the story at a later period. Dear Aunt Sallie,—I received your kind and affectionate letter a few
minutes ago, and will answer now, as I am afarid I will forget it. We
are now at home with Aunt Sammie and Uncle Marshall Dinwiddie,
who are very kind and good to us, but I come home and miss my dear
mother, whom I put before my God, and who I miss many times in the
day. "I do not wish to worry you, as I know you have worries enough, but
I do think you ought to send me my watch, as it is all I have to pay Mr.
Harmon to get me free from the treacherous man I have. Now, if you
won't send it to me send me word how much you want me to pay you. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 3 | Author: | Smith
Margaret Vowell | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Virginia, 1492-1892 | | | | Published: | 2006 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | Elizabeth, by the grace of God of England, France, and Ireland,
Queene, defender of the faith, &c. To all people to whom these presents
shal come, greeting. Know ye that of our special grace, certaine science,
& meere motion, we have giuen and graunted, and by these presents for
vs, our heires and successors doe giue and graunt to our trusty and well-beloued
seruant, Walter Ralegh, Esquire, and to his heires and assignes
for euer, free liberty & licence from time to time, and at all times for euer
hereafter, to discouer, search, finde out, and view such remote, heathen,
and barbarous lands, countreis, and territories, not actually possessed of
any Christian prince, nor inhabited by Christian people, as to him, his
heires and assignes, and to euery or any of them shall seeme good, and
the same to haue, holde, occupy & enioy to him, his heires and assignes
for euer, with all prerogatives, commodities, iurisdictios, royalties, priuiledges,
franchises and preeminences, thereto or thereabouts both by sea
and land, whatsoeuer we by our letters patents may grant, and as we or any
of our noble progenitors haue heretofore granted to any person or persons,
bodies politique or corporate; and the saide Walter Ralegh, his heires and
assignes, and all such as from time to time, by licence of vs, our heires
and successors, shal goe or trauaile thither to inhabite or remaine, there
to build and fortifie, at the discretion of the said Walter Ralegh, his
heires & assignes, the statutes or act of Parliament made against fugitiues,
or against such as shall depart, remaine, or continue out of our Realm of
England without licence, or any other statute, act, law, or any ordinance
whatsoeuer to the contrary in any wise notwithstanding. Whereas Wee, by our letters pattents under our great seale of England,
bearing date att Westminster, the tenth day of Aprill, in the year of our
raigne of England, France and Ireland the fourth, and of Scotland the
39th, have given lycence to sundry our loving subjects named in the said
letters pattents and to their associates, to deduce and conduct two several
Colonies or plantations of sundry our loving people willing to abide and
inhabit in certain parts of Virginia and America, with divers preheminences,
priviledges, authorities and other things, as in and by the same
letters pattents more particularly it appeareth, Wee according to the effect
and true meaning of the same letters pattents, doe by these presents,
signed with our hand, signe manuel and sealed with our privy seale of
our realme of England, establish and ordaine, that our trusty and well
beloved Sir William Wade, Knight, our Lieutenant of our Tower of London,
Sir Thomas Smith, Knight, Sir Walter Cope, Knight, Sir George
Moor, Knight, Sir Francis Popeham, Knight, Sir Ferdinando Gorges,
Knight, Sir John Trevor, Knight, Sir Henry Montague, Knight, recorder
of the citty of London, Sir William Rumney, Knight, John Dodderidge,
Esq., Sollicitor General, Thomas Warr, Esqr., John Eldred of the citty of
London, merchant, Thomas James of the citty of Bristol, merchant, and
James Bagge of Plymouth, in the county of Devonshire, merchant, shall
be our councel for all matters which shall happen in Virginia or any the
territories of America, between thirty-four and fourty-five degrees from
the æquinoctial line northward, and the Islands to the several collonies
limitted and assigned, and that they shall be called the King's Councel of
Virginia, which councel or the most part of them shal have full power
and authority, att our pleasure, in our name, and under us, our heires and
successors, to give directions to the councels of the several collonies which
shal be within any part of the said country of Virginia and America,
within the degrees first above mentioned, with the Islands aforesaid, for
the good government of the people to be planted in those parts, and for
the good ordering and desposing of all causes happening within the same,
and the same to be done for the substance thereof, as neer to the common
lawes of England, and the equity thereof, as may be, and to passe under
our seale, appointed for that councel, which councel, and every and any
of them shall, from time to time be increased, altered or changed, and
others put in their places, att the nomination of us, our heires and successors,
and att our and their will and pleasure, and the same councel of
Virginia, or the more part of them, for the time being, shall nominate and
appoint the first several councellours of those several councells, which are
to be appointed for those two several colonies, which are to be made plantations
in Virginia and America, between the degrees before mentioned,
according to our said letters pattents in that behalfe made; and that each
of the same councels of the same several colonies shal, by the major part
of them, choose one of the same councel, not being the minister of God's
word, to be president of the same councel, and to continue in that office
by the space of one whole year unless he shall in the meantime dye or be
removed from the office; and we doe further hereby establish and ordaine,
that it shal be lawful for the major part of either of the said councells,
upon any just cause, either absence or otherwise, to remove the president
or any other of that councel, from being either president, or any of that
councel; and upon the deathes or removal of any of the presidents or
councel, it shall be lawful for the major part of that councel to elect
another in the place of the party soe dying or removed, so alwaies, as
they shal not be above thirteen of either of the said councellours, and wee
doe establish and ordaine, that the president shal not continue in his office
of presidentship above the space of one year; and wee doe specially
ordaine, charge, and require the said president and councells, and the
ministers of the said several colonies respectively, within their several
limits and precincts, that they, with all diligence, care, and respect, doe
provide, that the true word and service of God and Christian faith be
preached, planted, and used, not only within every of the said several
colonies, and plantations, but alsoe as much as they may amongst the
salvage people which doe or shall adjoine unto them, or border upon them,
according to the doctrines, rights, and religion now professed and established
within our realme of England. Captaine Martine, we are to request50
50request, McDowell.
you upon sight hereof, with all
convenient speed to repaire hither to James citty to treatt and conferre
wth us about some matters of especial51
51especiall,
McDonald.
importance, wch concerns52
52concerne, McDonald and Bancroft.
both
us and the whole Colony and yourself. And of this we praye you not to
faile. `Enacted by the Governor, Council, and Burgesses of this Grand
Assembly, for God's glory and the public benefit of the Colony, to the
end that God might avert his heavy judgments that are upon us, that the
last Wednesday in every month be set apart for fast and humiliation, and
that it be wholly dedicated to prayers and preaching, &c. First. It is agreed and cons ted that the plantation of Virginia, and
all the inhabitants thereof, shall be and remaine in due obedience and
subjection to the common wealth of England, according to the lawes there
established, And that this submission and subscription bee acknowledged
a voluntary act not forced nor constrained by a conquest upon the countrey,
And that they shall have and enioy such freedomes and priviledges as
belong to the free borne people of England, and that the former government
by the comissions and instructions be void and null. First. That neither Governour nor councill shall be obliged to take
any oath or engagement to the Common-Wealth of England for one whole
yeare, And that neither Governor nor Councill be censured for praying
for or speaking well of the King for one whole yeare in their private
houses or neighbouring conference. "Whereas it appears by act of Assembly held at James Cittie in May,
1652, That it was agreed vpon and thought best by the then commissioners
for the parliament, and the Burgesses of the then a sembly, That the right
of election of all officers of this collony should be and appertaine to the
Burgesses, the representatives of the people, Now know yee, That wee
the present Burgesses of this Grand Assembly have a cordingly constituted
and ordained the severall persons vnder written to be the Governour,
Councill & Commissioners of this country of Virginia vntil the next
Assembly or vntil the further pleasure of the supreme power in England
shall be known. The Governour and Councill for many important causes do think fitt
hereby to declare, That they do now disolve this present Assembly. And
that the Speaker accordingly do dismiss the Burgesses. The Answer of the Burgesses to the declaration
of the Honourable Governour and Councill. Vpon your assurance of a speedy issue to conclude the acts so near
brought to a confirmation in this Assembly, wee are willing to come to a
speedy conclusion, And to referre the dispute of the power of disolving and
the legality thereof to his Highnesse, the Lord Protector: The House is vnanimously of opinion that the answer returned is
vnsatisfactory, and desire with as much earnestnes as the honourable
Governour and Councill have expressed, a speedy dispatch, and propose
That the Governour and Councill please to declare. Vpon your promise received of the speedy and happy conclusion, wee
revoke the declaration for the dissolution of the Assembly, and referre the
dispute of the power of dissolving and the legality thereof to his Highnesse
the Lord Protector. Wee have considered the present constitution of the government
of Virginia and do propose, That wee find by the records The present
power of government to reside in such persons as shall be impowered
by the Burgesses (the representatives of the people) who are not
dissolvable by any power now extant in Virginia, but the House of Burgesses. These are in the name of his Highnesse the Lord Protector to will and
require you not to act orr execute any warrant, precept or command
directed to you from any other power or person then the Speaker of this
hon'ble. House, whose commands you are hereby required to obey and not
to decline therefrom vntill further order from vs the Burgesses of this
present Grand Assembly, hereof faile not as you will answer the contrary
at your perill. Given 2d. Apr. 58. Act I. "Whereas the necessity of the country being in danger of the oppression
company and the losse of our liberties for want of such an agent
in England as is able to oppose the invaders of our freedomes and truly to
represent our condition to his sacred majestie enforceth the employing a
person of quality to present our grievances to his majesty's gracious consideration
and endeavour the redresse which the right honorable Sir William
Berkeley his majestyes governor hath been pleased to undertake.
Bee itt therefore enacted that there be raysed by the country the some of
two hundred thousand pounds of tobacco and cask for his the said Sir William
Berkeley's support in his voyage; and that payment be made thereof
by the 20th of January in Yorke river and James river to such persons as
his honor shall appoint and that the secretary of state and speaker of the
assembly signe a manifesto to the governor of the country's engagement
for payment thereof."*
*Hening's Statutes at Large, Vol. II., page 17.
Att a Grand Assemblie, Holden at James Cittie by prorogation from
the twentie third of March, 1660, to the twentie third of March 1661; and
thence to the twentie third of December 1662, in the fourteenth year of the
raigne of our soveraigne Lord, Charles the Second, by the grace of God, of
England, Scotland, France and Ireland, King, defender of the faith, etc.
To the glorie of Almightie God and the publique good of this his Majesties
colonie of Virginia: "First.—We declare all due allegiance and obedience to our lawful
Sovereign, George the Third, King of Great Britain. And we determine
to the utmost of our power to preserve the laws, the peace, and good order
of this Colony, as far as is consistent with the preservation of our constitutional
rights and liberty. Copy sent the Governor,
(Thomas Jefferson)
on the 15th January, 1781. The general assembly of Virginia being well satisfied that the happiness,
strength and safety of the United States, depend, under Providence,
upon the ratification of the articles for a federal union between the United
States, heretofore proposed by congress for the consideration of the said
states, and preferring the good of their country to every object of smaller
importance, Do Resolve, That this commonwealth will yield to the congress
of the United States, for the benefit of the said United States, all
right, title, and claim that the said commonwealth hath to the lands
northwest of the river Ohio, upon the following conditions, to wit: That
the territory so ceded shall be laid out and formed into states containing
a suitable extent of territory, and shall not be less than one hundred
nor more than one hundred and fifty miles square, or as near thereto
as circumstances will admit: That the states so formed shall be distinct
republican states, and be admitted members of the federal union, having
the same rights of sovereignty, freedom and independence as the other
states. It appearing to the General Assembly that Colonel William Fleming,
being the only acting member of council for some time before the appointment
of chief magistrate, did give orders for the calling out the militia,
and also pursued such other measures as were essential to good government,
and it is just and reasonable that he should be indemnified therein: Whereas, the Honorable the Continental Congress have published
their proclamation, announcing the signature and ratification of the preliminary
articles of peace between the several powers at war, and commanding
the citizens of these United States to cease from any farther
hostilities against his Britannic Majesty and his subjects, both by sea and
land: "Everybody knows I have the highest opinion of you as an officer,
and you know I love you as a friend; whatever may be your determination,
to retire or continue in service, my affection will accompany you.
I am, with esteem and affection, your most obedient humble servant, "Whereas it is shewn to the present General Assembly, that the government
of the United States is solicitous that certain lands at Old Point
Comfort, and at the shoal called the Rip Raps, should be, with the right
of property and entire jurisdiction thereon, vested in the said United
States for the purpose of fortification, and other objects of national defence, | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 4 | Author: | Kennedy
Philip Pendleton
1808-1864 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Blackwater chronicle | | | | Published: | 2006 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | If the reader will take down the map of Virginia,
and look at Randolph county, he will find that the
Blackwater is a stream that makes down from the
north into the Cheat river, some few miles below
the point where that river is formed by the junction
of the Dry fork, the Laurel fork, and the Glade
fork—the Shavers, or Great fork, falling in some
miles below: all rising and running along the western
side of the Backbone of the Alleganies. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 5 | Author: | Charlottesville (Va.) | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The code of the city of Charlottesville, Virginia, 1945 | | | | Published: | 2006 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | As contained in an act of the General Assembly of Virginia,
approved March 24, 1922 (Acts 1922, p. 697 et seq.), and all
acts amendatory thereof, to and including the acts of 1944. "WHEREAS, the director of finance has received the full purchase
price of the property hereby conveyed as is evidenced by
his signature hereto. "THIS AGREEMENT, made and entered into this ......
day of .............., 19.., by and between the CITY OF
CHARLOTTESVILLE, VIRGINIA, hereinafter referred to
as the City, and ........, hereinafter referred to as Owner. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 6 | Author: | De Hass
Wills
1818?-1910 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | History of the early settlement and Indian wars of Western Virginia | | | | Published: | 2006 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | "Whereas, by a treaty at Easton, in the year 1758, and
afterwards ratified by his Majesty's ministers, the country to the
west of the Alleghany mountain is allowed to the Indians for
their hunting ground. And as it is of the highest importance
to his Majesty's service, and the preservation of the peace,
and a good understanding with the Indians, to avoid giving
them any just cause of complaint: This is therefore to forbid
any of his Majesty's subjects to settle or hunt to the west of
the Alleghany mountains, on any pretence whatever, unless
such have obtained leave in writing from the general, or the
governors of their respective provinces, and produce the same
to the commanding officer at Fort Pitt. And all the officers
and non-commissioned officers, commanding at the several
posts erected in that part of the country, for the protection
of the trade, are hereby ordered to seize, or cause to be
seized, any of his Majesty's subjects, who, without the above
authority, should pretend, after the publication hereof, to settle
or hunt upon the said lands, and send them, with their horses
and effects, to Fort Pitt, there to be tried and punished according
to the nature of their offence, by the sentence of a
court martial. What did you kill my people on Yellow creek for? The white people
killed my kin at Conestoga, a great while ago, and I thought nothing of
that. But you killed my kin again on Yellow creek, and took my cousin
prisoner. Then I thought I must kill too; and I have been three times to
war since; but the Indians are not angry, only myself. I have this moment received certain intelligence that the
enemy are coming in great force against us, and particularly
against Wheeling. You will immediately put your garrison
in the best posture of defence, and lay in as great a quantity
of water as circumstances will admit, and receive them coolly.
They intend to decoy your garrison, but you are to guard
against stratagem, and defend the post to the last extremity. We, the subscribers, do hereby certify that the within specified appraisements
are just and true, to the best of our judgments; and that the several
articles were lost in the late unhappy defeat near M'Mechen's narrows, on
the 27th of September, 1777—as witness our hands, this 3d of October, 1777. On Monday afternoon, September 11, 1782, a body of about 300 Indians,
and 50 British soldiers, composing part of a company known as the `Queen's
Rangers,' appeared in front of the fort, and demanded a surrender. These
forces were commanded respectively by the white renegade Girty, and a
Captain Pratt. Yours of the 8th instant has just come to
hand, and I with pleasure sit down to answer your request,
which is a statement of my adventure with the Indians. I
will give the narrative as found in my sketch book. I was
born in Westmoreland county, Pennsylvania, February 4th,
1777. When about eight years old, my father, James Johnson,
having a large family to provide for, sold his farm, with
the expectation of acquiring larger possessions further west.
Thus he was stimulated to encounter the perils of a pioneer
life. He crossed the Ohio river, and bought some improvements
on what was called Beach Bottom Flats, two and a
half miles from the river, and three or four miles above the
mouth of Short creek, with the expectation of holding by
improvement right under the Virginia claim. Soon after we
reached there, the Indians became troublesome; they stole
horses, and killed a number of persons in our neighborhood.
When I was between eleven and twelve years old, in the
month of October, 1788, I was taken prisoner by the Indians,
with my brother John, who was about eighteen months older
than I. The circumstances were as follows:—On Saturday
evening, we were out with an older brother, and came home
late in the evening. The next morning one of us had lost a
hat, and about the middle of the day, we thought that perhaps
we had left it where we had been at work, about three-fourths
of a mile from the house. We went to the place and
found the hat, and sat down on a log by the road-side, and
commenced cracking nuts. In a short time we saw two men
coming toward us from the house. By their dress, we supposed
they were two of our neighbors, James Perdue and
J. Russell. We paid but little attention to them, until they
came quite near us, when we saw our mistake; they were
black. To escape by flight was impossible, had we been disposed
to try. We sat still until they came up. One of
them said, "How do, brodder?" My brother asked them if
they were Indians, and they answered in the affirmative, and
said we must go with them. One of them had a blue buckskin
pouch, which we gave my brother to carry, and without
further ceremony, he took up the line of march for the
wilderness, not knowing whether we should ever return to
our cheerful home; and not having much love for our commanding
officers, of course we obeyed orders rather tardily.
The mode of march was thus—one of the Indians walked
about ten steps before, the other about ten behind us. After
travelling some distance, we halted in a deep hollow and sat
down. They took out their knives and whet them, and talked
some time in the Indian tongue, which we could not understand.
My brother and me sat eight or ten steps from them,
and talked about killing them that night, and make our
escape. I thought, from their looks and actions, that they
were going to kill us; and, strange to say, I felt no alarm.
I thought I would rather die than go with them. The most
of my trouble was, that my father and mother would be fretting
after us—not knowing what had become of us. I expressed
my thoughts to John, who went and began to talk
with them. He said that father was cross to him, and made
him work hard, and that he did not like hard work; that he
would rather be a hunter, and live in the woods. This seemed
to please them; for they put up their knives, and talked more
lively and pleasantly. We became very familiar, and many
questions passed between us; all parties were very inquisitive.
They asked my brother which way home was, several
times, and he would tell them the contrary way every time,
although he knew the way very well. This would make them
laugh; they thought we were lost, and that we knew no better.
They conducted us over the Short creek hills in search
of horses, but found none; so we continued on foot until
night, when we halted in a hollow, about three miles from
Carpenter's fort, and about four from the place where they
first took us; our route being somewhat circuitous, we made
but slow progress. As night began to close in, I became
fretful. My brother encouraged me, by whispering that
we would kill them that night. After they had selected
the place of our encampment, one of them scouted round,
whilst the other struck fire, which was done by stopping the
touch-hole of his gun, and flashing powder in the pan. After
the Indian got the fire kindled, he re-primed the gun and
went to an old stump, to get some tinder wood, and while he
was thus employed, my brother John took the gun, cocked it,
and was about to shoot the Indian: alarmed lest the other
might be close by, I remonstrated, and taking hold of the
gun, prevented him shooting; at the same time I begged him
to wait till night, and I would help him kill them both.
The other Indian came back about dark, when we took our
supper, such as it was,—some corn parched on the coals, and
some roasted pork. We then sat and talked for some time.
They seemed to be acquainted with the whole border settlement,
from Marietta to Beaver, and could number every
fort and block-house, and asked my brother how many fighting
men there were in each place, and how many guns. In
some places, my brother said, there were a good many more
guns than there were fighting men. They asked what use
were these guns. He said the women could load while the
men fired. But how did these guns get there? My brother
said, when the war was over with Great Britain, the soldiers
that were enlisted during the war were discharged, and they
left a great many of their guns at the stations. They asked
my brother who owned that black horse that wore a bell? He
answered, father. They then said the Indians could never
catch that horse. We then went to bed on the naked ground,
to rest and study out the best mode of attack. They put us
between them, that they might be the better able to guard us.
After awhile, one of the Indians, supposing we were asleep,
got up and stretched himself on the other side of the fire, and
soon began to snore. John, who had been watching every
motion, found they were sound asleep. He whispered to me
to get up, which we did as carefully as possible. John took
the gun with which the Indian had struck fire, cocked it, and
placed it in the direction of the head of one of the Indians.
He then took a tomahawk, and drew it over the head of the
other Indian. I pulled the trigger, and he struck at the same
instant; the blow falling too far back on the neck, only
stunned the Indian. He attempted to spring to his feet,
uttering most hideous yells, but my brother repeated the
blows with such effect that the conflict became terrible, and
somewhat doubtful. The Indian, however, was forced to
yield to the blows he received on his head, and in a short
time he lay quiet at our feet. The one that was shot never
moved; and fearing there were others close by, we hurried
off, and took nothing with us but the gun I shot with. They
had told us we would see Indians about to-morrow, so we
thought that there was a camp of Indians close by; and fearing
the report of the gun, the Indian hallooing, and I calling
to John, might bring them upon us, we took our course
towards the river, and on going about three-fourths of a mile,
came to a path which led to Carpenter's fort. My brother
here hung up his hat, that he might know where to take
off to find the camp. We got to the fort a little before daybreak.
We related our adventure, and the next day a small
party went out with my brother, and found the Indian that
was tomahawked, on the ground; the other had crawled off,
and was not found till some time after. He was shot through
close by the ear. Having concluded this narrative, I will give
a description of the two Indians. They were of the Delaware
tribe, and one of them a chief. He wore the badges of his
office—the wampum belt, three half-moons, and a silver plate
on his breast; bands of silver on both arms, and his ears cut
round and ornamented with silver; the hair on the top of his
head was done up with silver wire. The other Indian seemed
to be a kind of waiter. He was rather under size, a plain
man. He wore a fine beaver hat, with a hole shot through
the crown. My brother asked him about the hat. He said
he killed a captain and got his hat. My brother asked him
if he had killed many of the whites, and he answered, a good
many. He then asked him if the big Indian had killed many
of the whites, and he answered, a great many, and that he
was a great captain—a chief. * * * * * Your note of this day I have duly received, and with sincere
pleasure proceed to comply with your requisitions; especially, as the facts
will have a more fitting and enduring place of record, than if stated in a
public print—which it was my intention to have done, had you not presented
a superior vehicle. Brigadier-General McIntosh having requested from
Congress leave to retire from the command of the westward,
they have, by a resolve of the 20th February, granted his
request, and directed me to appoint an officer to succeed him.
From my opinion of your abilities, your former acquaintance
with the back country, and the knowledge you must have
acquired upon this last tour of duty, I have appointed you to
the command in preference to a stranger, as he would not
have time to gain the necessary information between that of
his assuming the command and the commencement of operations. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 7 | Author: | Brock
R. A.
(Robert Alonzo)
1839-1914 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Virginia and Virginians | | | | Published: | 2006 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | "It appearing to the General Assembly that Colonel William Fleming,
being the only acting member of the council for some time before
the appointment of the Chief Magistrate, did give orders for the calling
out the militia, and also pursued such other measures as were essential
to good government, and it is just and reasonable that he should be
indemnified therein, Nothing can surprise me more than to see you attempt a settlement
upon the lands of the king, my master, which obliges me now, sir,
to send you this gentleman, Chevalier Le Mercier, captain of the artillery
of Canada, to know of you, sir, by virtue of what authority you are
come to fortify yourself within the dominions of the king, my master.
This action seems so contrary to the last treaty of peace, at Aix-la-Chapelle,
between his most Christian majesty and the King of Great
Britain, that I do not know to whom to impute such an usurpation, as it
is uncontested that the lands situated along the beautiful river belong to
his most Christian majesty. "Now, therefore, we, the People of Virginia, do Declare and Ordain,
That the ordinance adopted by the people of this State in convention on
the twenty-fifth day of June, in the year of our Lord one thousand seven
hundred and eighty-eight, whereby the Constitution of the United States
of America was ratified; and all the acts of the General Assembly of
this State ratifying or adopting amendments to said constitution are hereby
repealed and abrogated; that the union between the State of Virginia
and the States under the constitution aforesaid, is hereby dissolved, and
that the State of Virginia is in the full possession and exercise of all the
rights of sovereignty which belong and appertain to a free and independent
State. And they do further declare, that said Constitution of the
United States of America is no longer binding on any of the citizens of
this State. In accordance with the substance of my letter to you
on the 8th inst., I propose to receive the surrender of the Army of
Northern Virginia on the following terms, to wit: Rolls of all the officers
and men to be made in duplicate, one copy to be given to an officer
designated by me, the other to be retained by such officer or officers as
you may designate. The officers to give their individual paroles not to
take up arms against the government of the United States until properly
exchanged, and each company or regimental commander to sign a
like parole for the men of his command. The arms, artillery, and public
property to be packed and stacked, and turned over to the officers
appointed by me to receive them. This will not embrace the side arms
of the officers nor their private horses or baggage. This done, each
officer and man will be allowed to return to his home, not to be disturbed
by the United States authority so long as they observe their paroles and
the laws in force where they may reside. I received your letter of this date, containing the terms
of the surrender of the Army of Northern Virginia as proposed by you.
As they are substantially the same as those expressed in your letter of
the 8th instant, they are accepted. I will proceed to designate the
proper officer to carry the stipulations into effect. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 8 | Author: | Withers
Alexander Scott
1792-1865 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Chronicles of border warfare, or, A history of the settlement by the whites, of north-western Virginia, and of the Indian wars and massacres in that section of the state | | | | Published: | 2006 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | At the time when Virginia became known to the whites,
it was occupied by many different tribes to Indians, attached
to different nations. That portion of the state
lying north west of the Blue ridge, and extending to the
lakes was possessed by the Massawomees. These were a
powerful confederacy, rarely in amity with the tribes east
of that range of mountains; but generally harrassing
them by frequent hostile irruptions into their country.
Of their subsequent history, nothing is now known.
They are supposed by some to have been the ancestors of
the Six Nations. It is however more probable, that they
afterwards became incorporated with these, as did several
other tribes of Indians, who used a language so essentially
different from that spoken by the Six Nations, as to render
the intervention of interpreters necessary between
them. "Lieutenant Governor Hamilton proposes to Colonel Clark a Truce
for three days, during which time he promises, there shall not be any
defensive work carried on in the Garrison, on Condition Colol. Clark
shall observe on his part a like cessation from any offensive Work— "Colonel Clark's Compliments to Mr. Hamilton and begs leave to
inform him that Col. Clark will not agree to any Other Terms than that
of Mr. Hamilton's Surrendering himself and Garrison, Prisoners at
Discretion— | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 9 | Author: | Henderson
Archibald
1877-1963 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The conquest of the old Southwest | | | | Published: | 2006 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | AT the opening of the eighteenth century
the tide of population had swept inland
to the "fall line," the westward boundary of
the established settlements. The actual frontier
had been advanced by the more aggressive
pioneers to within fifty miles of the Blue
Ridge. So rapid was the settlement in North
Carolina that in the interval 1717-32 the population
quadrupled in numbers. A map of the
colonial settlements in 1725 reveals a narrow
strip of populated land along the Atlantic
coast, of irregular indentation, with occasional
isolated nuclei of settlements further in the interior.
The civilization thus established continued
to maintain a close and unbroken communication
with England and the Continent.
As long as the settlers, for economic reasons,
clung to the coast, they reacted but slowly to
the transforming influences of the frontier.
Within a triangle of continental altitude with
its apex in New England, bounded on the
east by the Atlantic, and on the west by the
Appalachian range, lay the settlements, divided
into two zones—tidewater and piedmont.
As no break occurred in the great mountain
system south of the Hudson and Mohawk valleys,
the difficulties of cutting a passage
through the towering wall of living green long
proved an effective obstacle to the crossing
of the grim mountain barrier. After my compliments to
you, I shall acquaint you of our misfortunes.
On March the 25 a party of Indians fired on
my Company about half an hour before day,
and killed Mr. Twitty and his negro, and
wounded Mr. Walker very deeply, but I hope
he will recover. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 11 | Author: | Holland
J. G.
(Josiah Gilbert)
1819-1881 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Arthur Bonnicastle | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | Life looks beautiful from both extremities. Prospect and
retrospect shine alike in a light so divine as to suggest that the
first catches some radiance from the gates, not yet closed, by
which the soul has entered, and that the last is illuminated from
the opening realm into which it is soon to pass. “I should like to see you here next Monday morning, in regard to some
repairs about The Mansion. Come early, and if your little boy Arthur is
well enough you may bring him. “I have lost my ball. I don't know where in the world it can be. It
seemed to get away from me in a curious style. Mr. Bird is very kind,
and I like him very much. I am sorry to say I have lost my Barlow knife
too. Mr. Bird says a Barlow knife is a very good thing. I don't quite
think I have lost the twenty-five cent piece. I have not seen it since yesterday
morning, and I think I shall find it. Henry Hulm, who is my
chum, and a very smart boy, I can tell you, thinks the money will be found.
Mr. Bird says there must be a hole in the top of my pocket. I don't know
what to do. I am afraid Aunt Sanderson will be cross about it. Mr.
Bird thinks I ought to give my knife to the boy that will find the money,
and the money to the boy that will find the knife, but I don't see as I
should make much in that way, do you? I love Mrs. Bird very much.
Miss Butler is the dearest young lady I ever knew. Mrs. Bird kisses us all
when we go to bed, and it seems real good. I have put the testament in
the bottom of my trunk, under all the things. I shall keep that if possible.
If Mrs. Sanderson finds out that I have lost the things, I wish you would
explain it and tell her the testament is safe. Miss Butler has dark eyebrows
and wears a belt. Mr. Bird has killed another woodchuck. I wonder
if you left the key of my trunk. It seems to be gone. We have real
good times, playing ball and taking walks. I have walked out with Miss
Butler. I wish mother could see her hair, and I am your son with ever so
much love to you and mother and all, “Bring home your Attlus. “The Bell is a noble vessel. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 13 | Author: | Moulton
Louise Chandler
1835-1908 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Juno Clifford | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | Juno Clifford stood before the mirror of her richly
furnished breakfast parlor. The cloth had been
spread for a half-hour—the silver coffee service was
prettily arranged, and the delicate cups of Sèvres
porcelain were scattered around the urn. But the
mistress of the mansion had only just arisen. It
was ten o'clock. Men, whose business hours had
commenced, were hurrying to and fro in the street—
the city was teeming with life and turbulent with
noise, but the hum only stole through the heavily-curtained
windows of that lofty house on Mount
Vernon street, with a subdued cadence that was very
pleasant. It was a lounging, indolent attitude, in
which the lady stood. In her whole style of manner
there was a kind of tropical languor, and it was easy
to see that she was seldom roused from her habitual
calmness. And yet there was something in the
curving of her dainty lips, the full sweep of her
arching brows, nay, in every motion of her hand,
which told of a slumbering power; an energy,
resistless in its intensity; a will that might have
subjugated an empire. The indolence was habitual
—the energy, native. “Dearest Brother:—It is not my turn to write,
but I have been thinking of you so earnestly to-day,
that I've resolved, at last, to make a thought-bridge
of my little steel pen, and tell you about my reveries.
In the first place, though, you ought to see where I am
writing. Yes, you ought to see Mohawk Village now.
The dear, blue river glides along so gently between
its fringed banks, and the sweet green islets lie, like
summer children, in such a peaceful sleep upon its
breast. The willow trees, `always genteel,' are bending
over its waves, bowing to their own shadows, and
all the green things round look as if they were rejoicing
in the fresh air and the sunshine. But I will
tell you what is the prettiest sight which meets my
eye. It is a gnarled old oak, very large, and very
strong, round which climbs a perfect wealth of the
beautiful ivy. They are living things, I know; and
it takes all mamma's logic to persuade me that they
cannot think and feel. They always seemed to me to
have a history, nay more, a romance linked with their
two lives. The oak looks like some veteran soldier.
His life is not yet quite past its prime, but he has
grown old among the crash of contending armies, and
the fierce shocks of battles. He is scarred, and battered,
and now round this glorious ruin the ivy clings,
young, fresh, trusting, and so beautiful; laying her
long green fingers on his seamed and furrowed front,
hiding his roughness with the embrace of her tender
arms. Looking from my window, summer and winter
I see them, my beautiful emblems of strength and
truth. I wish sometimes, in a large charity, that all
the world could look upon them as I do, that they
could teach every one the same lesson. “I will call you so this once more. God help us,
for He has separated us. I have no strength to tell
you now how tenderly I have loved you. You know
it but too well. Every glance of your blue eyes,
every thread of your golden hair was dearer to me
than my own life. I would not look upon your face
for worlds, now that it is lost to me for ever. My
mother has tried to soothe the agony of this parting.
She has whispered that a time might come, when I
would be free to marry you, but I have no such hope.
I dare not dwell on it; it would be unjust, cruel. I
cannot ask you to love me, to think of me. Rather
let me pray you to forget me; to seek in some other
love the happiness I can never again taste. May he
who shall win and wear you, be more worthy of your
love; he cannot return it more truly. “There, forgive those words, I could not help
them. When once more, after all this lapse of years,
I wrote your name, I forgot for the time that you had
been another's, that you had refused to be mine. I
saw only the Grace of my love and my dreams, very
young, very fair, and, better still, very loving and
trustful. To me you are the same still. I cannot
come to you to-night. I have received a message that
Mabel, my own fair sister, is ill. She may be dying,
but I will hope to find her better. I shall travel night
and day until I reach New York. Pray for me, Grace.
Think of me as your friend, your brother, if you will
not let me be, as in other days— | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 14 | Author: | Moulton
Louise Chandler
1835-1908 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Some women's hearts | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | “My Niece Elizabeth, — I believe myself to be
about to die. I cannot tell why this belief has taken
hold of me, but I am sure that I am not long for this
world. And, before I go out of it, I have an act of
restitution to perform. When your father, my dead
and gone brother James, died, if you had received
your due, you would have had six thousand dollars.
But the business was embarrassed at the time, and I
thought that to put so much money out of my hands
just then would ruin me. I took the responsibility,
therefore, of deciding not to do it. I managed, by
means that were not strictly legitimate, to keep the
whole in my own possession. I did not mean ill by
you, either. Your memory will bear me witness that I
dealt by you in every way as by my own children; nor
do I think the interest of your six thousand dollars, in
whatever way invested, could possibly have taken care
of you so well as I did. Still, to have it to use in my
business at that critical time, was worth much more
than the cost of your maintenance to me. So, as I look
at matters, you owe me no thanks for your upbringing,
and I owe you no farther compensation for the use of
your money during those years which you passed in
my house. For the five years since then, I owe you
interest; and I have added to your six thousand dollars
two thousand more, to reimburse you for your loss during
that time. “You were right, and I was wrong. I would not
tempt you to be other than you are, — the purest as the
fairest woman, in my eyes, whom God ever made.
I am running away, because I have not just now the
strength to stay here. You will not see me again for two
weeks. When I come back, I will be able to meet you
as I ought, and to prove myself worthy to be your
friend. “Your child was born the 28th of June. I did not
know of this which was to come when I left the shelter
of your roof, or I should not have gone. The little one
is very ill; and, feeling that she may not live, I think
it right to give you the opportunity of seeing her, if you
wish to, before she dies. Come, if you choose, to No.
50, Rue Jacob, and you will find her. “My Dear Husband, — Andrew, our little boy, is
very ill. The doctor calls it scarlet fever. I thought
that you would wish to see him. Your presence would
be the greatest comfort. “Mr. Thorndike, — I have hesitated long before
writing you this note. I should not venture to do so
now were it not that I am emboldened by the license
accorded to leap-year. To a different man I would not
write it for worlds, but I am sure your character is of
too high a tone for you to pursue a correspondence
merely for amusement or adventure. If you think I
am indelicate in addressing you at all, — if you do not
desire my friendship, you will let the matter drop here,
— you will never reply to me, or bestow a second
thought on one who will, in that case, strive to think
no more of you. But should you really value the
regard of a girl who is fearless enough thus to disobey
the recognized laws of society; honest enough to show
you her heart as it is; good enough, at least, to feel
your goodness in her inmost soul, — then you will
write. Then, perhaps, we shall know each other better,
and the friendship thus unconventionally begun may
brighten both our lives. Remember I trust to your
honor not to answer this letter if you disapprove of my
course in sending it, — if by so doing I have forfeited
your respect. Should you reply, let it be within three
days, and address, | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 15 | Author: | Moulton
Louise Chandler
1835-1908 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | This, that and the other | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | “Lionel: When your hand touches this sheet, I shall be
far away. It is two hours since you left me, and I have been
sitting here all the while, in a kind of stupor. I have loved you
very fondly, Lionel, and there is no blame for you in my heart
now, only sorrow, bitter, crushing sorrow. I will believe that
you love me — that you did not mean to deceive me! I will
even try to think that the fault, the misunderstanding, was all
mine. My soul shall send back only prayers for you — my heart
shall breathe only blessings. I love you, Lionel — O, how I
love you! If I could coin my life-blood into a flood of blessing,
and pour it on your head, I would do so gladly; if I might die
for you, my soul would be blessed as the angels. I even have
thought, — may God forgive me! — that I could give my soul to
perdition for your sake; but I have no right to bring sorrow, and
shame, and suffering, upon another. The lips that my little sister
presses must be pure; the life consecrated by a dying mother's
blessing must be unstained. “Blanche Leslie, — For something tells me you are Blanche
Leslie yet — I have found you at last, after these weary years.
Listen, and hear if it be not destiny. When you left me, Blanche,
I was a heart-broken, miserable man. You did not know me, little
darling, or you never would have gone. I did not know myself.
I did not know how strong was the love I had for you. Blanche,
believe me, for I swear it before heaven, I never would have asked
you to make one sacrifice for my sake. You should have done
nothing, been nothing, your own heart did not sanction. When
I read your note, I awoke to the knowledge of my own soul.
Then I knew that, without you, wealth, and fame, and honor,
were worse than vanity, hollower than the apples of Sodom. I
would have laid down everything I possessed on earth, to have
called you wife. My soul cried out for you `with groanings
that could not be uttered.' “No, no! Come not near me, Lionel Hunter! Disturb not
the holy calm to which it has been the work of years to attain.
I have wept much, suffered much, but I am stronger now. Talk
no more to me of earthly love, now that my heart has grown old,
and the beauty you used to praise has faded. Leave me, leave
me! It is my prayer; it is all I ask. Over my night of sorrow
dews have fallen, and stars have arisen; let me walk in their
light! Only in heaven will I rest, if it may be so, my head
upon your breast. Then, when the angels shall name me by a
new name, I will steal to your side, and, looking back to earth,
over the bastions of the celestial city, you shall call me “`Heaven forgive and pity me, life of my life, that I should
be writing you, the night before our bridal, only to say farewell.
Our bridal; yes, it shall be so. To-morrow my soul shall marry
your soul, though I am far away. I have been mad, for two
weeks past, Maud! The ashes of the bottomless pit have been
upon my head, and its hot breath has scorched my cheek. I
would not tell you, my beloved, because I wished not to drag
you down with me to perdition. O, Maud, my darling! Maud,
my beloved! Can it be, I never more must draw your head
to my heart — never more must look into your blue eyes,
or watch the blushes stealing over your cheek? But I am
raving. “Can it be that only one sun has set and risen since Stanley
Grayson called me his, — since another and a dearer life grew into
mine, with the knowledge that I was beloved? O, joy! great,
unutterable joy, whose seeds were sown in grief, and watered by
the hot tears which made the flowers grow upon my mother's
grave! Who shall say, if I had not been thus desolate, I could
have felt so deeply this wondrous bliss of love? “A week has passed — a long, sunny week of happiness! Stanley
says we must be married in September — his birth-day, September
fifth. Papa, dear, good papa, has given me carte blanche as
to money. He says I never did cost him anything yet, and have
only been a help to him, all my life; and now, when he 's going
to lose me, he will give me all he can. Poor papa! I fear,
though he likes Stanley, he is hardly reconciled to the idea of
my leaving home; for, when he spoke of my going away, the
tears came to his eyes, and he looked so regretfully at his easy-chair,
and the little ottoman where I always sit beside him! It
seemed so selfish in me to go and leave him, — him who has always
been so kind to me, — and for one, too, whom I had never seen,
a few short months ago! The tears came to my eyes, and for
the moment I was half resolved to send Stanley away without
me; but, O, I know that already my soul is married to his soul,
and I cannot give him up. Lizzie will come home in July, and
she can stay with papa. Do I love Stanley better than papa?
Why do I not say Lizzie will do for Stanley? And why would
she not — she, so good, so young, so very beautiful? “O, how dear, how much dearer than ever, my future husband
is every day becoming to my heart! How long a time
since I 've written here before! but then I 'm so busy, and so
happy! “O, how it rains! — Such a perfect wail as the wind makes,
hurrying by, as if its viewless feet were `swift to do evil!' Poor
Lizzie! she is inside the stage, I suppose; she will have a
long, uncomfortable ride! I don't know why it is, but my soul
seems to go out toward her to-night more than ever. I have
thought of Stanley so much lately, that I 've not had so much
time to think of my poor child, and now my heart is reproaching
me. Sweet Lizzie! She and Stanley have never met. How
proud I am of them both! I am sure they must be pleased
with each other. Stanley is in his room now. I sent him up to
put on his black coat, and that new vest in which he looks so
well. “Yes, it was dear Lizzie. Stanley heard the horn too, and hurried
down stairs. I bade him go and meet Lizzie; for it was
raining, and papa was n't half awake. I followed him to the
door, and he received Lizzie in his arms. She thought it was
papa, for, what with the night and the rain, it was quite dark;
and she pressed her lips to his face again and again. But when he
brought her into the pleasant, brightly-lighted parlor, and set her
down, she pushed from her white shoulders her heavy cloak,
and glanced around; that is, as soon as she could, for at first I held
her to my heart so closely she could see nothing. When papa
took her in his arms, and welcomed her, and bade God bless her,
she glanced at his slippers and dressing-gown, and then at Stanley,
who was looking at her with a shade of amusement at her
perplexity, and yet with the most vivid admiration I ever saw
portrayed on his fine features. At last he laughed out, merrily. “I am a little lonely, I 'm left so much alone now. The long
rides over the hills continue, and of course I stay at home, for
there is no horse for me to ride. Stanley comes and kisses me
just before he goes off, and says, `You are always so busy,
Katie!' but he says nothing of late about the reason I am so
busy — nothing about our marriage. “Two days, and I am writing here again; but O, how
changed! I have been struck by a thunderbolt. I have had
a struggle, brief, but very fierce; and it is past. I was sailing
in a fair ship, upon calm waters; there were only a few clouds
in the sky. Sunlight rested on the waves, and in the distance I
could see a floating pleasure-island, green and calm, made
beautiful with tropic flowers, where gorgeous birds rested, and
sang love-songs all the day. Merrily the bark dashed onward.
Loved forms were by my side, and one dearer than all
was at the helm; but from the clear sky a tempest-blast swept
suddenly. It had sobbed no warning of the doom it was
bringing us. “A month has passed since I wrote here last; I hardly know
why, myself. It has been a long summer month. Days are so
long in summer, and they have seemed like centuries of late.
What a beautiful day it is! The sunshine smiles so pleasantly
on the fields, and the bright-winged birds sing, and the insects
hum lazily, or go to sleep upon the flowers. It seems to me I
never saw such a scene of calm, quiet beauty; — as if Nature
had on her holiday garments, decked newly for the sun, her
lover. “Lizzie is married, and they have gone; surely no bride ever
before looked so beautiful! Her long curls floated over her
white robe like sunshine over snow; and her cheeks were fairer
than ever, shaded so faintly by her rich veil. She trembled
during the ceremony, and I could feel how firm and strong was
the lover-like pressure with which Stanley clasped her waist.
When we knelt in prayer, his arm was around her still; and I
seemed quite to forget my own existence, so intently was I occupied
in watching them, so fervent were my prayers for their
happiness. It was the hardest when Stanley came back to me,
after Lizzie had said good-by, and he had put her in the carriage.
He took both my hands in his, and, looking into my eyes,
whispered, Never mind Peepy, Mrs. Jellyby! Let the child cry, — let
him fall down stairs, and break his nose. What are a thousand
Peepies now present, to the mighty schemes of our modern
Borioboola-Gha, which will affect the destinies of myriads of
Peepies yet to come? Can you fritter away your attention on
one man, and his little troop of children, when that new lawgiver
— that Moses — that Stephen Pearl Andrews — has told us,
woman's chief duty is to be “true to herself, and not true to any
man”? Thanks, Mr. Andrews! We, little girl that we are,
did n't know our duty before. We 've found out, now. Never
mind if there were tears in his eyes, when he whispered, “I can't
live, if you change!” We know our duty now, and it 's not
much matter what he suffers in so good a cause. “Miss Adams: Perhaps it may give you some satisfaction
to learn that, in compliment to you, I returned from New York
last night, instead of this morning, as I at first intended. I went
over to Oakwood, and, in the natural indulgence of a lover's
curiosity, was a witness of the pleasant scene in your favorite
bower. I presume it will be an occasion of heartfelt rejoicing
to you to know that you are quite free from all the ties which
have bound you to No, no, nothing but that! She has never derived any additional
importance from linking her name with yours, imperial
man! — never grown angelized by a wife's thrice-drugged potion
of care and sorrow. She lives alone, in a little, lonely house, —
alone, with her black cat, and her memories of the past! “Edward Gray: Ellen Adair is ill — dying. She will die
to-night. I do not say if you ever loved her, for I know you
did, but, if you love her now, come to us directly. “`I am surprised, Mr. Harding, at the acuteness which enables
you to divine my wishes so readily. I trust the attachment
which can so easily relinquish its object will not be difficult to
overcome. For your kindness in procuring me this casket, I am
infinitely obliged; but you must, of necessity, excuse my accepting
it, as it is a present of too great value for a lady to receive
from any but her lover. Enclosed you will find your miniature
and letters, and a certain emerald ring, the pledge of a tie now
broken. You will excuse me from coming down, as I have a
head-ache this morning. I wish you God-speed on your journey,
long life and happiness, and remain your friend, “Many months have passed since last we met. Summers and
winters have been braided into years, and still on my heart is
your name written; not one hieroglyph that you traced there
has been obliterated. Heart and soul I am, what I always have
been, yours! I married Clara the day succeeding our last meeting,
and I love her very much. Can you reconcile this with what I
have just written? I am yours, as I said; you, even you, my
Agnes, are more to me than all the rest of earth; but it is much
to feel we can make another human being entirely happy. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 16 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Eutaw | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | It is surely an early hour for the whip-poor-will to begin
her monotonous plainings, sitting on her accustomed hawthorn,
just on the edge of the swamp. The sun has hardly dropped
from sight behind the great pine-thickets. His crimson and
orange robes still flaunt and flicker in the western heavens;
gleams from his great red eyes still purple the tree-tops; and
you may still see a cheerful light hanging in the brave, free
atmosphere; while gray shapes, like so many half-hooded friars,
glide away through the long pine-avenues, inviting you, as it
would seem, to follow, while they steal away slowly from pursuit
into the deeper thickets of the swamp. “My child, my dear Bertha: To you alone can I look for
the rescue of your brother and myself. We are in the power of
an enemy, who requires your hand in marriage for the safety of
my own and my son's life. We have forfeited the security of
British law. My own offences are such that, delivered to the
commandant of Charleston, as I am threatened, my death — an
ignominious death — must follow. Your brother is a captive
also, charged with murdering the king's soldiers without a warrant.
He is suffering in health by his unavoidable confinement.
He can not long live in the condition in which he is kept; and
his release and mine are made to depend entirely on you. Let
me implore you, my child, to come to our succor, and to save us.
Become the wife of Captain Inglehardt, and suffer us once more
to see the light of heaven, and enjoy the freedom of earth.
Come, my beloved child, to our rescue; and, in making the
sacrifice of your choice, to my own, receive the blessings of
your fond, but fettered father. [P. S.] You will readily conceive
our exigency, when I tell you that my wrists and feet are
even now in manacles of iron, and have been so from the first
day of my captivity. For a time, indeed, your brother Henry
was held in similar fetters.” “Sorry, my dear colonel, to cut short your roving commission;
doubly sorry that it has not yet resulted as you could
wish. But we can spare you from the main action of the drama
no longer. We are now, I think, approaching the denouément,
and require all our heroes on the stage. Stewart is in rapid
march downward — a little too strong for us yet, particularly
with the reinforcements which he will get from the lower posts.
We hear of these in motion from several quarters, as many as a
thousand or twelve hundred men. These, in addition to his
estimated strength at present of twenty-three hundred, will give
heavy odds against us, unless our mounted men come out much
more numerously than usual. Greene is on the march, somewhat
recruited, but very little strengthened. Congress has done
nothing — can or will do nothing — not even give us arms and
ammunition! Three hundred of our people are still without
serviceable weapons of any kind, and seven hundred without
jackets or breeches. It is really lucky that we have hot
weather. We must make up in zeal what we lack in men and
munitions, and only fight the harder from having but little
means with which to fight at all! That, my dear Sinclair, is a
new philosophy for the management of armies, but it is one
that will not seem altogether silly in the estimation of the true
patriot. At all events, it is about the best that I can give to
you, who know how to fight so well on short commons; and it
affords the only hope upon which I have fed (very like fasting)
for a long season! Once more, then, my dear Sinclair, let me
regret the necessity which requires that you rejoin your brigade,
and defer, for a brief season, the painfully interesting personal
enterprises upon which you are engaged. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 18 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Vasconselos | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | It is the province of romance, even more decidedly than history,
to recall the deeds and adventures of the past. It is to fiction
that we must chiefly look for those living and breathing creations
which history quite too unfrequently deigns to summon to her
service. The warm atmosphere of present emotions, and present
purposes, belongs to the dramatis personœ of art; and she
is never so well satisfied in showing us human performances, as
when she betrays the passions and affections by which they were
dictated and endured. It is in spells and possessions of this
character, that she so commonly supersedes the sterner muse
whose province she so frequently invades; and her offices are
not the less legitimate, as regards the truthfulness of things in
general, than are those of history, because she supplies those details
which the latter, unwisely as we think, but too commonly,
holds beneath her regard. In the work before us, however, it is
our purpose to slight neither agency. We shall defer to each of
them, in turn, as they may be made to serve a common purpose.
They both appeal to our assistance, and equally spread their possessions
beneath our eyes. We shall employ, without violating,
the material resources of the Historian, while seeking to endow
them with a vitality which fiction only can confer. It is in pursuit
of this object that we entreat the reader to suppose the backward
curtain withdrawn, unveiling, if only for a moment, the
aspects of a period not so remote as to lie wholly beyond our
sympathies. We propose to look back to that dawn of the sixteenth
century; at all events, to such a portion of the historical
landscape of that period, as to show us some of the first sunny
gleams of European light upon the savage dominions of the
Western Continent. To review this epoch is, in fact, to survey
the small but impressive beginnings of a wondrous drama in
which we, ourselves, are still living actors. The scene is almost
within our grasp. The names of the persons of our narrative
have not yet ceased from sounding in our ears; and the theatre
of performance is one, the boards of which, even at this moment,
are echoing beneath their mighty footsteps. Our curiosity and
interest may well be awakened for awhile, to an action, the fruits
of which, in some degree, are inuring to our present benefit. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 20 | Author: | Stoddard
Elizabeth
1823-1902 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Temple House | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | Early one autumn morning, on his forty-first birthday,
Argus Gates walked down the old turfy lawn, and
felt immortal in his human powers. The elms above
him dropped warning leaves, the silver cobwebs in the
grass vanished beneath his tread, and the sere grass
rose not again; but Aurora was in the sky. The
stalwart, willing earth dipped beneath her chariot
wheels, to lave in the rays flooding from those eyes
fixed in
“The ever silent spaces of the East,”
and Argus was one with the earth. “Dear Mother: You never saw such work; we lost the small
trunk, which was not marked. Have you seen Virginia? Her
society will make amends for my absence. I wish I was at home,
but I like travelling. I saw somebody yesterday that looked exactly
like Mary Sutcliffe. I had half a mind to ask her if the
cat's kittens had yellow patches, or if they were black and white:
Mary said the cat would have kittens by the time I got back.
You can't think how fish seems to be prized at these hotels, while
we care nothing for it. We stopped in Boston, and John bought
me an Indian scarf. In New York he bought me a dark blue
silk; he is very attentive, but he has a cold. I had it made, and
it is trimmed with black lace. Mother, the lace was three dollars
a yard. We are in Chicago now. The air has a flat taste to
me; it is different from Kent air. Of course, Uncle Argus has
worried about me; oh yes, I think he is pining away. There are
no good preserves at any hotel; the noise at these great houses,
would drive you wild, mother; you would never again wink your
eyes at my slamming doors, could you stay in one awhile. Have
those Drakes been to see you? I do not care for them; do you,
mother? I shall visit them but very little. John asked me if I
would go to housekeeping in warm weather. I said, “Er, em,
em,” which ment “yes” to him; to me, “nary housekeeping.”
Why should I wash dishes for him, and dust furniture, and learn
not to suit him in cooking—let me see, four times a day. He is
too particular about his food. Mother, I had rather eat your dry
bread; I hate to see people imagining they would like to have
this, and that, to eat. I shall be gone some weeks yet. I'll help
you knit when I return. John has snatched this from the table,
and I am mad, for he laughs loud at it, and says—“Give me a
kiss?” but I won't. It is eleven o'clock; there is no lamp burning
in Temple House; you are asleep. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
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