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81Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Add
 Title:  The spectre steamer, and other tales  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: It was in the spring of 1839, that I left New Orleans, in the splendid steamer Saint Louis, for Saint Louis. The morning was clear and brilliant, and the atmosphere of that agreeable elasticity which inspires the dullest with good spirits. We backed out slowly and majestically from our birth at the pier, and, gaining the mid-river, began to ascend the stream with rapid but stately motion. I stood upon the `hurricane-deck,' with fifty other passengers, admiring the view of the city as we ran swifty past it. Street after street terminating in a straight line in the cypress swamp, appeared and disappeared, and turret, spire, and terrace receded rapidly in the distance. The half league of shipping lying `three deep' against the pier, and waiting for their freight of cotton, presented a grand and imposing spectacle. They were Americans and of all European nations, principally English and French; and as every ship wore her flag half-mast in honor of a captain of one of them who had died the day previous, their appearance was at once solemn (from association) and brilliant. Who that has ever visited New Or leans in the winter season, can forget the fine effect of this wide-stretching crescent of shipping that enfolds the city at either extremity like wings? `Sir,—Ten years ago you saved my life. I am now in a situation to show you substantial gratitude. I learn from your friend, my host, that you are a seaman and are doing well. Yet you may do better. I enclose you five bank of England notes for five hundred pounds each. Accept them as your right. They are nothing in my estimation put side by side with the life you saved. I wish you and your noble mother all happiness and health. Greeting: `I do believe I am innocent of this thing, as I am an honorable gentleman. How it came into my possession, I am as ignorant as the child unborn.
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82Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Add
 Title:  The young artist, and, The bold insurgent  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: `Come.
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83Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Add
 Title:  Blanche Talbot, or, The maiden's hand  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: `Dear Blanche—' `My dear Blanche—'
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84Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Add
 Title:  Edward Manning, or, The bride and the maiden  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: In a narrow cross-way that leads from the Court House Square northward losing itself in Old Cornhill, there stands, or did stand at the period of our story, a low wooden edifice, without any thing particuliar to draw the attention of the eyes of the passers-by save its antiquity and dilapidated condition. “I have at length decided, since my last interview with you, to give up all hopes of being happy with a wife I cannot love. My heart, as I told you is with the beautiful Caroline Kent. I dare not see her until I know she still loves me; for I fear that her love may have turned to hatred! But if you can, I wish you to see her and ascertain whether she still retains affection for me. Tell her from me, that I think only of her; and that if she will be mine, in the flowery chains of mutual love, I will sacrifice honor, reputation, everything to her! Before you see her, call on me at eight in the evening when I will see you privately in my library. “This will be handed to you by my confident, the bearer, only in case he discovers that you still remember me with affection. Therefore, if your eyes fall upon these words I shall know that I am writing to one who still loves. I have much to lament; I have been deceived and given my hand where my heart would not follow. How could I give that which was not mine to give? I cannot in words upon paper tell you how much I love you. You are dearer to me than any object on earth. If you love me and can forgive the past, forgive me for preferring another to you, I am ready to cast myself at your feet; do not deny me this happiness, until at least, I have seen you and spoken with you and plead for myself. If you will see me, write to me by the bearer. Write and tell me when I may have the bliss of seeing you. I shall wait with impatience till I know my fate! Fear no rival! My hand and heart are free! nay, they are free only to be your slaves. Farewell till we meet, “The past is forgotten. Your note has made me the happiest of beings; you ask me if I have forgotten you? Oh, no! you have daily been dearer and dearer to me! I can scarcely write for trembling with joy; I will come to you, I will be yours forever! I have no heart, no thought, no will but for you! Do not delay the bearer, let me see you at once that my happiness may have its sweet confirmation in your presence. “I will see you to-night. The bearer will show you a private way, for I wish no one to see you come hither! I will await you in my study. Regard for your honor and happiness prompt me to make known to you what intimately concerns your peace. Your husband has been long false to you! You have proof of it in the enclosed notes to Miss Kent! If you require further proof you will find her now in his study, the usual place of their secret meetings!”
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85Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Add
 Title:  Paul Perril, the merchant's son, or, The adventures of a New-England boy launched upon life  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: New England is the great population nursery of the American continent. The young shoots which it produces annually, are reared with an eye to transplanting, rather than for domestic growth. Of every seven juvenile plants five are sent off to be planted in the South and West—to thrive in Oregon or bear fruit in California. For a family of children born in the land of Pilgrims to remain there as men and women within sight of the smoke of the paternal home, is an event scarcely known. `Where shall I emigrate—where shall I make my fortune?' is the first enquiry of the Yankee boy as he begins to discover a beard upon his lip. `Sir—I am about going to South America for the purpose of establishing a mercantile firm. I wish to take out with me three or four young men, from seventeen to nineteen years of age, as clerks.— I am willing to pay their passage out from Boston, and to allow them a fair compensation for their services after we shall reach our destination. Here we are in a fix every mother's son of us! After we left you last night we went to Bruce's and had a first-rate oyster supper. About ten o'clock we sallied forth pretty well `up!' If I had known how tipsy brother 'Siah was, I'd have locked him up in Bruce's back room before he should have gone out with us. Well, he was as `drunk as a soger.' He sang songs to the top of his lungs, and took up the whole side walk as he went. I never saw but one chap before so tipsy and stand. Well, we got to the corner of Broomfield lane when 'Siah saw a `Charlie,' and so he began to sing, `O'er the water to Charlie,' adding some few personal impromptu, that made the watchman mad; so he told us to keep quiet: for to tell you the truth we all joined in full chorus. I told the watchman, gentlemen had a right to sing, and that there was no law which put them under obligations to ask a `Charlie' what songs they should select for testing their vocal powers. At this, `Charlie' seized me by the collar, when brother Sam up fist and knocked him over. Charlie sprang up and then sprang his rattle. It was answered from half a dozen corners, and in two minutes we were every soul of us captured, though we fought hard. 'Sias was taken up out of the gutter and Sam was only taken prisoner after giving two bloody noses and a black eye to the enemy. The upshot was that we were marched off to the Watch-house except Josiah, who had to be carried between two Charlies; and the best of the joke was, although he was too drunk to walk he would sing, and all they could do, he kept up a rip-roarous serenade to all the houses we went by until we were safely lodged here. After leaving the gate, San Piedro, I continued my walk along the inside of the wall until I came to the nezt gate which I found guarded in like manner with the first. In front of it was drawn up a squadron of cavalry as if about to issue forth into the country, and also a battalion of infantry. Several mounted officers were grouped near the gate in conversation, and seemed much excited. Suspecting some interesting movement was about to take place, I drew as near them as I could without peril to myself, and watched the proceedings. Upon the wall above the gate, I saw two officers standing with spy-glasses surveying the country, and every moment or two reporting to the general, who sat upon his horse below surrounded by his staff. In their rear was the cavalry, about one hundred and fifty fierce looking fellows armed with carbines, pistols in holders, and huge carbines slung across their backs. Every man wore a mustache, which added to their ferocious aspect.— They were dressed in blue jackets and gray trowsers. Silent and expectant they sat immovable in their high pommeled saddles, each with his sword drawn and in his hand and resting across the saddle-bow.— Behind them the infantry, in scarlet coats and white trowsers with tall caps crested with horse hair, were drawn up in a line. The little wicket in the great gate was opened as I came up by the captain of the guard, and a colonel alighting, took a peep through into the green but treeless country.
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86Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Add
 Title:  Ringold Griffitt, or, The raftsman of the Susquehannah  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: Towards the close of a warm and genial spring day, early in the month of March, 182—, a boat containing a single person might have been seen gliding up a darkly flowing river, that would through the bosom of a majestic forest. The banks of the river were full with the melted snow-water of the mountains, and carried down upon the turbid tide, swam vast cakes of ice, which the ascending boatman had to exert no little skill and activity to avoid. The sun is rising and hope is beginning to put on her beauteous garments for the festival of joy that awaits thee. In a word your husband has written to me, saying that he is fully convinced of your innocence, and that he is hastening to embrace you once more; but having met with an accident on the way, must necessarily be delayed some weeks. But his heart is with you, and you will once more smile and be happy You will ask how he come to write? I answer that I addressed him a long letter, unfolding to him certain suspicions that forced themselves upon my mind after you informed me of the interviewd Lord — had with you, and the manner in which he quitted you! These suspicions I mentioned to your noble husband, for whom my heart bleeds as well as it does for you, and he is convinced that Lord — sacrificed your reputation to his vengeance and that countess who called him from his audience with the king, was a party to it. I told him also, that the conviction was upon your mind that you had been made to drink a sleeping potion, as you fell asleep two or three times while your maids were with you. Now I want you to leave Scotland and come to the palace, and remain with me till your husband reaches England; for he will meet you the sooner, and I wish to see your happy meeting.”
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87Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Add
 Title:  The free-trader, or, The cruiser of Narragansett Bay  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: Our story opens in the harbor and town of Newport in the “Old Colony Days.” At the period in which we shall lay the scenes of our romance, this town was second in New England only to Boston in wealth and commercial importance. Its trade was far more extensive than it is at the present day, and was mainly carried on with the West Indies and Spain, with its dependencies, in vessels of all classes from the shallop of twenty tons to the imposing merchant-ship. Its merchants were enterprising and intelligent, and rivalled those of Boston in the opulence of their style of living and show of state. They dressed in velvet on holidays and Sundays, and in their counting-rooms wore ruffles of lace and powdered curls.
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88Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Add
 Title:  The surf skiff, or, The heroine of the Kennebec  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: Your few words have made me happy, and filled my bosom with joyful hopes. If you will communicate to me any plan for my escape and reunion with him, you say is your friend, be assured I will cooperate with you. My room is over the parlor. Its windows open upon the gal lery. I dare not leave my room to go through the house, as the servants are my father's spies. If a ladder could be placed so as to reach the top of the piazza, and he was below, I should have the courage to descend! I shall await your movements with trembling hopes. Thank God for his preservation.
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89Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Add
 Title:  The treason of Arnold  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: The disc of the setting sun just touched the outline of the forests crowning the heights of Hoboken, on a bright afternoon in September, 1780, when a single horseman made his appearance on the river-road leading from Tarrytown to New York, towards which place, then in the possession of the British troops under Sir Henry Clinton, he was slowly trotting his horse. His journey was nearly ended with the day, for the needle-like spire of Trinity Church had been, for the last half hour, a prominent object in his eye, and the expanded bay, girt with its majestic islands, and covered with the fleets of England, assured him that he was approaching the headquarters of the British armies. “Sir:—I send forward, under charge of Lieutenant Allen and a guard, which will arrive at Beverly House by noon, a certain John Anderson, who had been taken while going towards New York. He had a passport signed in your name, which doubtless, is forged, and a parcel of papers, taken from his stockings, which are of a very dangerous tendency. I send him to you as commanding officer, feeling that it is a case presenting too many difficulties, and involving too much for me to decide upon. “Sir:—What I have said concerning myself to my captors was in the justifiable attempt to be extricated; I am too little accustomed to duplicity to have succeeded. “Dear Major Andre:—Though miserable myself I cannot be altogether so absorbed in my own wretchedness as to forget the griefs of others. Listen to me. I know your high notions of honor and the spirit of chivalrous self-sacrifice that fills your bosom, but oh! for my sake—for your own—for that of your mother and sisters—for the sake of your country—do what I am about to ask of you! Accept life while it is in your power! Do not remain to die like a criminal! Life is now yours—to-morrow it may be due to justice! Alas! my heart tells me what will be your reply—but I will not therefore cease my exertions to save you. Assisted by a faithful slave, I this morning loosened two of the planks in your room. They afford communication with the cellar. Descend into it and Peter will meet you with a disguise, and conduct you, by the western outlet, which opens among high shrubbery, into the garden, where he will conceal you till night, and then provide a boat for your escape. Do not, Andre, neglect this opportunity! Fly now! General Washington and his staff are busy in the library, and nothing can prevent the success of the plan but your own obstinacy. Fly, Andre! Escape! For the sake of all you hold dear on earth losse not a moment, but fly!
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90Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Add
 Title:  Jennette Alison, or, The young strawberry girl  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: The tide was at flood, and the rising winds heaped the waves and dashed them against the crazy pier, till it shook again. The sea poured in torrents beneath the dark corridors under the wharves, and then reflowing, moaned and roared, chafed and foamed, like furious beasts battling together. It was a wild, black night on the land and on the sea. I despatch this to you by my own servant on horseback, in order that you may - e ceive it without fail. Do not detain him, but at once send him back with an answer. `I shall be at the pier by nine to-night, if wind and water permit. Do not fail me there. “`Sir:—As you did not succeed in your plan to possess yourself of these important papers, I shall not again place them or myself, in your power. I shall make an appeal to the heir in person, where I shall no doubt be more successful. I leave to-night in the stage, and that you may not indulge any hope of waylaying me, to rob me, I inform you in order to show that you need not cherish the hope for a moment of possessing them, that they will go in the U. S. mail bags, directed to me at New Haven; so you see I shall have them when I reach there, without any risk of losing them on the way, through any desperate violence you and your hirelings might be tempted to use towards me if you thought they were upon my person. Sir:—Call and see me, I am dying, and have a secret of importanc to communicate to you.
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91Author:  Irving Washington 1783-1859Add
 Title:  The sketch book of Geoffrey Crayon, Gent  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: I was always fond of visiting new scenes, and observing strange characters and manners. Even when a mere child I began my travels, and made many tours of discovery into foreign parts and unknown regions of my native city, to the frequent alarm of my parents, and the emolument of the town-crier. As I grew into boyhood, I extended the range of my observations. My holiday afternoons were spent in rambles about the surrounding country. I made myself familiar with all its places famous in history or fable. I knew every spot where a murder or robbery had been committed, or a ghost been seen. I visited the neighbouring villages, and added greatly to my stock of knowledge, by noting their habits and customs, and conversing with their sages and great men. I even journeyed one long summer's day to the summit of the most distant hill, from whence I stretched my eye over many a mile of terra incognita, and was astonished to find how vast a globe I inhabited. It is with feelings of deep regret that I have noticed the literary animosity daily growing up between England and America. Great curiosity has been awakened of late with respect to the United States, and the London press has teemed with volumes of travels through the republic; but they seem intended to diffuse error rather than knowledge; and so successful have they been, that, notwithstanding the constant intercourse between the nations, there is none concerning which the great mass of the British people have less pure information, or more prejudices. On a soft sunny morning, in the month of May, I made an excursion to Windsor, to visit the castle. It is a proud old pile, stretching its irregular walls and massive towers along the brow of a lofty ridge, waving its royal banner in the clouds, and looking down with a lordly air upon the surrounding world. It is a place that I love to visit, for it is full of storied and poetical associations. On this morning, the weather was of that soft vernal kind that calls forth the latent romance of a man's temperament, and makes him quote poetry, and dream of beauty. In wandering through the magnificent saloons and long echoing galleries of the old castle, I felt myself most disposed to linger in the chamber where hang the portraits of the beauties that once flourished in the gay court of Charles the Second. As I traversed the “large green courts,” with sunshine beaming on the gray walls, and glancing along the velvet turf, I called to mind the tender, the gallant, but hapless Surrey's account of his loiterings about them in his stripling days, when enamoured of the Lady Geraldine— “With eyes cast up unto the maiden's tower, With easie sighs, such as men draw in love.” A COLLOQUY IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY.
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92Author:  Irving Washington 1783-1859Add
 Title:  Bracebridge Hall, or, The humorists  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: In again taking pen in hand I would fain make a few observations at the outset, by way of bespeaking a right understanding. The volumes which I have already published have met with a reception far beyond my most sanguine expectations. I would willingly attribute this to their intrinsic merits; but, in spite of the vanity of authorship, I cannot but be sensible that their success has, in a great measure, been owing to a less flattering cause. It has been a matter of marvel, at least to the European part of my readers, that a man from the wilds of America should express himself in tolerable English. I was looked upon as something new and strange in literature; a kind of demi-savage, with a feather in his hand instead of on his head, and there was a curiosity to hear what such a being had to say about civilized society.
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93Author:  Irving Washington 1783-1859Add
 Title:  Bracebridge Hall, or, The humorists  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: I take great pleasure in accompanying the Squire in his perambulations about his estate, in which he is often attended by a kind of cabinet council. His prime minister, the steward, is a very worthy and honest old man, and one of those veteran retainers that assume a right of way; that is to say, a right to have his own way, from having lived time out of mind on the place. He loves the estate even better than he does the Squire, and thwarts the latter sadly in many of his projects of improvement and alteration. Indeed, the old man is a little apt to oppose every plan that does not originate with himself, and will hold long arguments about it, over a stile, or on a rise of ground, until the Squire, who has a high opinion of his ability and integrity, is fain to give up the point. Such concession immediately mollifies the old steward; and it often happens, that after walking a field or two in silence with his hands behind his back, chewing the cud of reflection, he will suddenly observe, that “he has been turning the matter over in his mind, and, upon the whole, he thinks he will take his honour's advice.”
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94Author:  Irving Washington 1783-1859Add
 Title:  Letters of Jonathan Oldstyle, gent  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: Nothing is more intolerable to an old person than innovation on old habits. The customs that prevailed in our youth become dear to us as we advance in years; and we can no more bear to see them abolished, than we can to behold the trees cut down under which we have sported in the happy days of infancy. I perceive by the late papers, you have been entertaining the town with remarks on the Theatre. As you do not seem from your writings to be much of an adept in the Thespian arcana, permit me to give you a few hints for your information. I once more address you on a subject that I fear will be found irksome, and may chafe that testy disposition (forgive my freedom) with which you are afflicted. Exert, however, the good humour of which, at bottom, I know you to have a plentiful stock, and hear me patiently through. It is the anxious fear I entertain of your sinking into the gloomy abyss of criticism, on the brink of which you are at present tottering, that urges me to write.
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95Author:  Irving Washington 1783-1859Add
 Title:  A chronicle of the conquest of Granada  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: The history of those bloody and disastrous wars, which have caused the downfall of mighty empires, (observes Fray Antonio Agapida,) has ever been considered a study highly delectable, and full of precious edification. What then must be the history of a pious crusade, waged by the most Catholic of sovereigns, to rescue from the power of the Infidels one of the most beautiful but benighted regions of the globe? Listen then, while, from the solitude of my cell, I relate the events of the conquest of Granada, where Christian knight and turbaned Infidel disputed, inch by inch, the fair land of Andalusia, until the crescent, that symbol of heathenish abomination, was cast down, and the blessed cross, the tree of our redemption, erected in its stead.
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96Author:  Irving Washington 1783-1859Add
 Title:  A chronicle of the conquest of Granada  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: “In the hand of God,” exclaims an old Arabian chronicler, “is the destiny of princes; he alone giveth empire. A single Moorish horseman, mounted on a fleet Arabian steed, was one day traversing the mountains which extend between Granada and the frontier of Murcia. He galloped swiftly through the valleys, but paused and looked out cautiously from the summit of every height. A squadron of cavaliers followed warily at a distance. There were fifty lances. The richness of their armor and attire showed them to be warriors of noble rank, and their leader had a lofty and prince-like demeanor.” The squadron thus described by the Arabian chronicler, was the Moorish king Boabdil and his devoted followers.
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97Author:  Irving Washington 1783-1859Add
 Title:  The devil and Tom Walker  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: A few miles from Boston, in Massachusetts, there is a deep inlet winding several miles into the interior of the country from Charles Bay, and terminating in a thickly wooded swamp, or morass. On one side of this inlet is a beautiful dark grove; on the opposite side the land rises abruptly from the water's edge, into a high ridge, on which grow a few scattered oaks of great age and immense size. It was under one of these gigantic trees, according to old stories, that Kidd the pirate buried his treasure. The inlet allowed a facility to bring the money in a boat secretly, and at night, to the very foot of the hill. The elevation of the place permitted a good look-out to be kept, that no one was at hand—while the remarkable trees formed good landmarks by which the place might easily be found again. The old stories add, moreover, that the devil presided at the hiding of the money, and took it under his guardianship; but this, it is well known, he always does with buried treasure, particularly when it has been ill gotten. Be that as it may, Kidd never returned to recover his wealth—being shortly after seized at Boston, sent out to England, and there hanged for a pirate.
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98Author:  Irving Washington 1783-1859Add
 Title:  The Alhambra  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: In the spring of 1829, the author of this work, whom curiosity had brought into Spain, made a rambling expedition from Seville to Granada, in company with a friend, a member of the Russian embassy at Madrid. Accident had thrown us together from distant regions of the globe, and a similarity of taste led us to wander together among the romantic mountains of Andalusia. Should these pages meet his eye, wherever thrown by the duties of his station, whether mingling in the pageantry of courts or meditating on the truer glories of nature, may they recal the scenes of our adventurous companionship, and with them the remembrance of one, in whom neither time nor distance will obliterate the recollection of his gentleness and worth.
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99Author:  Irving Washington 1783-1859Add
 Title:  The Alhambra  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: The common people of Spain have an oriental passion for story-telling and are fond of the marvellous. They will gather round the doors of their cottages in summer evenings, or in the great cavernous chimney corners of their ventas in the winter, and listen with insatiable delight to miraculous legends of saints, perilous adventures of travellers, and daring exploits of robbers and contrabandistas. The wild and solitary nature of a great part of Spain; the imperfect state of knowledge; the scantiness of general topics of conversation, and the romantic, adventurous life that every one leads in a land where travelling is yet in its primitive state, all contribute to cherish this love of oral narration, and to produce a strong expression of the extravagant and wonderful. There is no theme, however, more prevalent or popular than that of treasures buried by the Moors. It pervades the whole country. In traversing the wild Sierras, the scenes of ancient prey and exploit, you cannot see a Moorish atalaya or watch-tower perched among the cliffs, or beetling above its rock-built village, but your muleteer, on being closely questioned, will suspend the smoking of his cigarillo to tell some tale of Moslem gold buried beneath its foundations; nor is there a ruined alcazar in a city, but has its golden tradition, handed down, from generation to generation, among the poor people of the neighbourhood.
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100Author:  Irving Washington 1783-1859Add
 Title:  The Crayon miscellany  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: In the often vaunted regions of the Far West, several hundred miles beyond the Mississippi, extends a vast tract of uninhabited country, where there is neither to be seen the log house of the white man, nor the wigwam of the Indian. It consists of great grassy plains, interspersed with forests and groves, and clumps of trees, and watered by the Arkansas, the grand Canadian, the Red River, and all their tributary streams. Over these fertile and verdant wastes still roam the Elk, the Buffalo, and the wild horse, in all their native freedom. These, in fact, are the hunting grounds of the various tribes of the Far West. Hither repair the Osage, the Creek, the Delaware and other tribes that have linked themselves with civilization, and live within the vicinity of the white settlements. Here resort also, the Pawnees, the Comanches, and other fierce, and as yet independent tribes, the nomades of the prairies, or the inhabitants of the skirts of the Rocky Mountains. The regions I have mentioned forms a debateable ground of these warring and vindictive tribes; none of them presume to erect a permanent habitation within its borders. Their hunters and “Braves” repair thither in numerous bodies during the season of game, throw up their transient hunting camps, consisting of light bowers, covered with bark and skins, commit sad havoc among the innumerable herds that graze the prairies, and having loaded themselves with venison and buffalo meat, warily retire from the dangerous neighbourhood. These expeditions partake, always, of a warlike character; the hunters are all armed for action, offensive and defensive, and are bound to incessant vigilance. Should they, in their excursions, meet the hunters of an adverse tribe, savage conflicts take place. Their encampments, too, are always subject to be surprised by wandering war parties, and their hunters, when scattered in pursuit of game, to be captured or massacred by lurking foes. Mouldering skulls and skeletons, bleaching in some dark ravine, or near the traces of a hunting camp, occasionally mark the scene of a foregone act of blood, and let the wanderer know the dangerous nature of the region he is traversing. It is the purport of the following pages to narrate a month's excursion to these noted hunting grounds, through a tract of country which had not as yet been explored by white men.
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