| | 41 | Author: | Thompson
Daniel P.
(Daniel Pierce)
1795-1868 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The rangers, or, The Tory's daughter  | | | | 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: | Towards night, on the twelfth of March, 1775, a richly-equipped
double sleigh, filled with a goodly company of well-dressed
persons of the different sexes, was seen descending from
the eastern side of the Green Mountains, along what may now
be considered the principal thoroughfare leading from the upper
navigable portions of the Hudson to those of the Connecticut
River. The progress of the travellers was not only slow, but
extremely toilsome, as was plainly evinced by the appearance of
the reeking and jaded horses, as they labored and floundered
along the sloppy and slumping snow paths of the winter road,
which was obviously now fast resolving itself into the element of
which it was composed. Up to the previous evening, the dreary
reign of winter had continued wholly uninterrupted by the advent
of his more gentle successor in the changing rounds of the
seasons; and the snowy waste which enveloped the earth would,
that morning, have apparently withstood the rains and suns of
months before yielding entirely to their influences. But during
the night there had occurred one of those great and sudden
transitions from cold to heat, which can only be experienced in
northern climes, and which can be accounted for only on the supposition,
that the earth, at stated intervals, rapidly gives out large
quantities of its internal heats, or that the air becomes suddenly
rarefied by some essential change or modification in the state of
the electric fluid. The morning had been cloudless; and the
rising sun, with rays no longer dimly struggling through the
dense, obstructing medium of the dark months gone by, but, with
the restored beams of his natural brightness, fell upon the smoking
earth with the genial warmth of summer. A new atmosphere,
indeed, seemed to have been suddenly created, so warm and
bland was the whole air; while, occasionally, a breeze came over
the face of the traveller, which seemed like the breath of a
heated oven. As the day advanced, the sky gradually became
overcast — a strong south wind sprung up, before whose warm
puffs the drifted snow-banks seemed literally to be cut down,
like grass before the scythe of the mower; and, at length, from
the thickening mass of cloud above, the rain began to descend
in torrents to the mutely recipient earth. All this, for a while,
however, produced no very visible effects on the general face of
nature; for the melting snow was many hours in becoming
saturated with its own and water from above. Nor had our
travellers, for the greater part of the day, been much incommoded
by the rain, or the thaw, that was in silent, but rapid
progress around and beneath them; as their vehicle was a covered
one, and as the hard-trodden paths of the road were the last
to be affected. But, during the last hour, a great change in the
face of the landscape had become apparent; and the evidence
of what had been going on unseen, through the day, was now
growing every moment more and more palpable. The snow
along the bottom of every valley was marked by a long, dark
streak, indicating the presence of the fast-collecting waters beneath.
The stifled sounds of rushing streams were heard issuing
from the hidden beds of every natural rill; while the larger
brooks were beginning to burst through their wintry coverings,
and throw up and push on before them the rending ice and
snow that obstructed their courses to the rivers below, to which
they were hurrying with increasing speed, and with seemingly
growing impatience at every obstacle they met in their way.
The road had also become so soft, that the horses sunk nearly to the
flank at almost every step, and the plunging sleigh drove heavily
along the plashy path. The whole mass of the now saturated
and dissolving snow, indeed, though lying, that morning, more
than three feet deep on a level, seemed to quiver and move,
as if on the point of flowing away in a body to the nearest
channels. Vermont was ushered into political existence midst storm and
tempest. We speak both metaphorically and literally; for it is
a curious historical fact, that her constitution, the result of the
first regular movement ever made by her people towards an
independent civil government, was adopted during the darkest
period of the revolution, at an hour of commotion and alarm,
when the tempest of war was actually bursting over her borders
and threatening her entire subversion. And, as if to make the
event the more remarkable, the adoption took place amidst a
memorable thunder-storm, but for the happening of which, at that
particular juncture, as will soon appear, that important political
measure must have been postponed to a future period, and a
period, too, when the measure, probably, would have been defeated,
and the blessings of an independent government forever
lost, owing to the dissensions, which, as soon as the common
danger was over, New York and New Hampshire combined to
scatter among her people. The whole history of the settlement
and organization of the state, indeed, exhibits a striking anomaly,
when viewed with that of any other state in the Union. She
may emphatically be called the offspring of war and controversy.
The long and fierce dispute for her territory between the colonies
above named had sown her soil with dragon teeth, which
at length sprang up in a crop of hardy, determined, and liberty-loving
men, who, instead of joining either of the contending parties,
soon resolved to take a stand for themselves against both.
And that stand, when taken, they maintained with a spirit and
success, to which, considering the discouragements, difficulties,
and dangers they were constantly compelled to encounter, history
furnishes but few parallels. But although every step of her progress,
from the felling of the first tree in her dark wilderness to
her final reception into the sisterhood of the states, was marked
by the severest trials, yet the summer of 1777 — the period to
which the remainder of our tale refers — was, for her, far the most
gloomy and portentous. And still it was a period in which she
filled the brightest page of her history, and, at the same time, did
more than in any other year towards insuring her subsequent
happy destiny. “You are hereby appointed by the Council of Safety to go
through this and the neighboring towns, bordering on the British
line of march; to spy out the resorts of the tories; to mark
and identify all inimical persons; to gain all the information
that can be obtained respecting the movements of the enemy at
large; and make report, from time to time, to this council or
some field officer of our line.*
* Those who may doubt the probability that such a commission would
be issued by this body, would do well to consult that part of the journal
of their proceedings, at this period, which has been preserved and published,
in which will be found several similar ones, to serve as specimens
of the many contained in the part that was lost, and to show how
searching were the operations of these vigilant guardians of the cause of
liberty in Vermont, and how various the instruments they made use of
to effect their objects.
“You remember your promise, Sabrey, to visit me the first
opportunity. That opportunity now occurs. Captain Jones and
other friends have presented your father's name at head-quarters
for promotion; and he has now, I am informed, received an
appointment. If he accepts, as I am sure he will, I hope you will
accompany him, and remain with me. I have just received one
of those letters so precious to me: he says the army will probably
move on to Fort Edward next week, the obstructions in
the road being now mostly removed; so that, by the time you
arrive, I shall probably be enabled to introduce you to the beautiful
and accomplished ladies of whom he has so much to say, —
such as the Countess of Reidesel, Lady Harriet Ackland, and
others, who accompany their husbands in the campaign. But
you will perhaps say that he is interested in praising these ladies
for the love and heroism which prompt them to brave such
fatigues and dangers for the sake of their lords, since he is
warmly urging me to consent to an immediate union, that I may
follow their example. He says, in his last letter, — and I think
truly, — that I cannot long remain where I am, in a section which,
he evidently anticipates, will soon become a frightful scene of
strife and bloodshed; and that I must therefore go away with
my friends, and leave him, perhaps forever, or put myself under
his protection in the army. And he seems hurt that I hesitate in
a choice of the alternatives. On the other hand, my connections
and friends here think it would be little short of madness in me
to yield to my lover's proposal. The people about here are
greatly alarmed at the expected approach of the British army,
which is known to be accompanied by a large body of Indians.
Many are already removing, and nearly all preparing to go.
The crisis hastens, and yet I am undecided. Prudence points
one way, love the other. What shall I do? O Sabrey, what
shall I do? Should you come on with your father, I think I
should feel a confidence in going with you to the British encampment.
Come then, my friend, come quickly; for I feel as if I
could not go without friends, and especially a female friend, to
accompany me; while, at the same time, I feel as if some irresistible
destiny would compel me to the attempt. And yet why
should I hesitate to take any step which he advises? Why refuse
to share with him any dangers which he may encounter? And
why should my anticipations of the future, which have ever, till
recently, during my happy intimacy with Mr. Jones, been so
bright and blissful, be clouded now? I know not; I know not
why it should be so; but lately my bosom has become disturbed by
strange misgivings, and my mind perplexed by dark and undefined
apprehensions. I must not, however, indulge them; and
your presence, I know, would entirely dissipate them. I repeat,
therefore, come, and that quickly. Adieu. “I am at the British head-quarters — not exactly a prisoner,
but evidently a closely-watched personage, having reached here,
with my captors, after a forced and fatiguing journey, which,
however, was not made unpleasant by any disrespectful treatment.
9 *
Although the party, to whom I became a prisoner, have
been frightened back or recalled, and the expedition, of which
they were the advance, given up, yet I think it my duty to say,
that another, and much more formidable one, is in agitation against
Bennington. I hope our people will be prepared for it, and
show these haughty Britons that they do not deserve the name of
the undisciplined rabble of poltroons and cowards by which I here
daily hear them branded. “This is a work I can cheerfully recommend, for in my estimation it
is the best collection of Hymn Tunes that has appeared for several years,
and one of the best ever published in this country. In style, the Music is
very chaste and pleasing, and in its arangement excellent. Being generally
plain and easy of performance, it is admirably adapted to the wants
of Country Choirs. I shall be glad to see the work more extensively
used, and shall take much pleasure in introducing it in my Schools. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 42 | Author: | Thompson
Maurice
1844-1901 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Hoosier mosaics | | | | 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: | No matter what business or what pleasure
took me, I once, not long ago, went to Colfax.
Whisper it not to each other that I was seeking
a foreign appointment through the influence
of my fellow Hoosier, the late Vice-President
of the United States. O no, I didn't go
to the Hon. Schuyler Colfax at all; but I went
to Colfax, simply, which is a little dingy town,
in Clinton County, that was formerly called
Midway, because it is half way between Lafayette
and Indianapolis. It was and is a place
of some three hundred inhabitants, eking out
an aguish subsistence, maintaining a swampy,
malarious aspect, keeping up a bilious, nay,
an atra-bilious color, the year round, by sucking
like an attenuated leech at the junction,
or, rather, the crossing of the I. C. & L., and
the L. C. & S. W. railroads. It lay mouldering,
like something lost and forgotten, slowly
rotting in the swamp. “Come to see us, even if you won't stay but
one day. Come right off, if you're a Christian
girl. Zach Jones is dying of consumption and
is begging to see you night and day. He says
he's got something on his mind he wants to
say to you, and when he says it he can die
happy. The poor fellow is monstrous bad off,
and I think you ought to be sure and come.
We're all well. Your loving uncle, Mr. Editor—Sir: This, for two reasons, is
my last article for your journal. Firstly: My
time and the exigencies of my profession will
not permit me to further pursue a discussion
which, on your part, has degenerated into the
merest twaddle. Secondly: It only needs, at
my hands, an exposition of the false and fraudulent
claims you make to classical attainments,
to entirely annihilate your unsubstantial and
wholly underserved popularity in this community,
and to send you back to peddling your
bass wood hams and maple nutmegs. In order
to put on a false show of erudition, you lug
into your last article a familiar Latin sentence.
Now, sir, if you had sensibly foregone any attempt
at translation, you might, possibly, have
made some one think you knew a shade more
than a horse; but “whom the gods would destroy
they first make mad.” “Editor of the Star—Dear Sir: In answer
to your letter requesting me to decide between
yourself and Mr. Blodgett as to the
correct English rendering of the Latin sentence
“De mortuis nil nisi bonum,” allow me to
say that your free translation is a good one, if
not very literal or elegant. As to Mr. Blodgett's,
if the man is sincere, he is certainly
crazy or wofully illiterate; no doubt the latter. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 43 | Author: | Trowbridge
J. T.
(John Townsend)
1827-1916 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Lucy Arlyn | | | | 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 was a proud day for Archy Brandle and
his mother when Lucy Arlyn came out to their
house to make a friendly visit and to drink tea. “You promised to grant me a favor. This is
what I am directed to require of you. Find yourself at Dr.
Biddikin's to-morrow at three, P.M. There you will meet a
disagreeable little old woman, with yellow hair and a sour
temper, named “Miss Lucy Arlyn. Respected Madam, — The reason
you saw the undersigned a-fishing to-day, and which you may
have seen him on previous occasions passing with rod and line
by the brook which meandures beyond the house which has
the honor of being your residence (viz., Jehiel Hedge's), the
undersigned might explain, and would astonish you, if you
would but grant an interview which he has sought in this way
in order to get a word with you; not venturing to call openly,
fear of offence: though he has in his possession facts of the
most utmost importance to you, whom I fear have been
wronged by a man I have long served faithfully, and blinded
my eyes to his misdeeds, but whom I now suspect is a villain
of the darkest calibre” — “I can no longer be of use to you, and I go; having
already staid a day too long. My spiritual gift — for which
alone you valued me — went before. I lost it when I lost
myself. It will return to me only when my tranquillity returns;
which can never be with you. I loved you, Guy
Bannington. There, take my heart; tread it beneath your
proud feet. I neither hate nor love you now. I am ice.
The universe wails around me; but I hear it with dull ears.
Farewell! I am weary, and wish to sleep.” | | | Similar Items: | Find |
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