| | 201 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Caroline Archer, or, The miliner's apprentice  | | | | 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: | CAROLINE ARCHER Was the most beautiful
milliner's apprentice that tripped along
the streets of Philadelphia. She was just
seventeen; with the softest brown hair, that
would burst into a thousand ringlets over the
neck and shoulders, all she could do to teach
it to lay demurely on her cheek, as a milliner's
apprentice should do. Her eyes were of
the deepest blue of the June sky after a fine
shower, not that showers often visited her
brilliant orbs, for she was as happy-hearted
as a child, and to sing all day long was as
natural to her as to the robin red-breast—at
least it was until she became a milliner's apprentice,
when she was forbid to sing by her
austere mistress, as if a maiden's fingers
would not move as nimbly with a cheerful
carol on her tongue. Her smile was like
light, it was so beaming; and then it was so
full of sweetness, and gentle-heartedness!
It was delightful to watch her fine face with
a smile mantling its classical features, and
her coral lips just parted showing the most
beautiful teeth in the world. One could not
but fall in love with her outright at sight—
yet there was a certain elevated purity and
dignity about her that checked lightness or
thought of evil in relation to her. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 202 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Herman de Ruyter | | | | 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 a few minutes past nine o'clock
three evenings previous to the sudden disappearance
of the beautiful `Cigar-Vender,'
whose adventurous life, up to that time, has
afforded us the subject of a former Tale, when
the keeper of a miserable book-stall situated
in a narrow thoroughfare leading from Pearl
into Chatham street, prepared to close his
stall for the night. His stall consisted of
some rude shelfs placed against the wall of a
low and wretched habitation, with a sunken
door on one side of the shelves by which he
had ingress from the side-walk into a dark
narrow apartment that served him as a dwelling-place.
There were shelves against the
street wall on both sides of his door, a board
placed in front of which, encroaching about
two feet upon the pavement formed a sort of
counter. It was supported at each end by
rough empty boxes, in the cavity of one of
which, upon a bundle of straw as it stood on end,
facing inward, lay a small, ugly shock-dog with
a black turn-up nose, and most fiery little gray
eyes. In the opposite box, vis-a-vis to the
little spiteful dog crouched a monstrous white
Tom cat, with great green eyes, and a visage
quite as savage as that of a panther. Thus
with the counter and the boxes supporting it,
the keeper was enclosed in a sort of ingeniously
constructed shop, which he had contrived
to cover by a strip of canvass, which
served as a shade from the sun as well as a
shelter from the storms. The contents of his
shelves presented to the passer-by a singular
assemblage of old books, pamphlets, songs,
pictures of pirates and buccaneers hung in
yellow-painted frames; two-penny portraits
of murderers and other distinguished characters
in this line, with ferocious full lengths of
General Jackson, and Col. Johnson killing
Tecumseh! Rolls of ballads, piles of sailor's
songs of the last war, last dying speeches and
lives of celebrated criminals, were strewn
upon the counter, to which was added a goodly
assortment of children's picture books and
toys. Cigars and even candy were displayed
to tempt the various tastes of the passers-by,
and even gay ribbons, something faded, exposed
in a pasteboard box were offered as a
net to catch the fancy of the females who
might glance that way. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 203 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Spanish galleon, or, The pirate of the Mediterranean | | | | 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 opening scene of our story is laid in the Mediterranean Sea in the
month of June, 1700. One clear, cloudless morning, towards the latter end
of this month, the rising sun, himself yet unseen beneath the ocean, was
just touching the skyey outline of the bold summits of the Corsican Sierras
with a bright edge of gold. As each moment he rose higher and higher, the
darkness fled from the hollows and coverts of the mountain-sides into the
sea, revealing first the towers and turrets of a convent perched upon a pinnacle;
then, lower down, a walled monastery with its hanging gardens; then
a fortress with battlements and embrasures frowning above the waves; and
still lower, on the very verge of the sea, the hut of the fisherman! As the
bays and inlets caught the morning beams, the fisher's light craft with its
long latteen yard across was seen idly anchored near his door, or sluggishly
getting underweigh and moving under oars towards the open sea. In one
of the inlets of the cliff-bound shore, into which the beams of the morning
penetrated, lay moored close in with the towering rock, a large vessel of
about four hundred tons. The little bay in which she was sheltered, was
about two leagues to the northward of a considerable port on the east side
of the Island of Corsica; half a league from her position was a convent
surrounded by high and snow-white walls; and on the mountain side, almost
above her, stood a monastery half in ruins, yet inhabited. Perched
here and there upon a low, rocky projection stood a solitary fisherman's cot,
and the jagged peaks of the Sierras, elevated in the distance, formed a bold
back-ground to the scene. The vessel in question seemed to have taken up
the most advantageous position within the inlet for security, not only from
any sudden storm, but from the observation of any vessels which sailed past
outside; for unless they fairly entered the narrow bay, and turned sharp to
the left, they could not have discovered that it contained any thing besides
the half a score of fishing boats which usually belonged in its waters. It is my painful duty to communicate to your Highness, the loss, by capture,
in our bay of El Gancho on the morning of the 25th instant, of Your
Majesty's Galleon `La Reina Isabel.' This ship was driven into the Mediterranean
by an adverse gale and afterwards prevented by a corsair from
regaining her port, being chased until she run for shelter, three nights ago
into our secluded bay. Here she was attacked and defended with great
courage, so that she sunk the corsair's vessel, who boarded the Galleon in
boats, and after a hard fight succeeded in capturing her. Among the slain
were the captain with all his officers, and El Escelentissimo Senor Don
Ferdinand de Garcia, who with his daughter were passengers. Previous to
the attack, Don Ferdinand removed for safe keeping to our priory, one million
of specie belonging to your majesty, which I hold in trust at your majesty's
command. He left on board the galleon half a million which there
was not time to remove, which fell into the hands of the corsair Kidd, who
has possessed himself of the captured vessel and, after repairing her, sailed
from the island in her, doubtless bent on further deeds of rapine. Sir,—By command of His Majesty, I enclose you a despatch to the captains
or commanders of any vessels of war lying in the port of Gibraltar,
Spain, or Kingston in Jamaica, or wherever these despatches may find
them, to put themselves under your directions, for the purpose expressed in
their instructions, viz: the capture of the freebooter, William Kidd, and
bringing him (if possible) to trial, in this our England. Trusting that you
will be successful in taking him, through the aid of His Majesty's vessels of
war, and that you will prove yourself worthy in all respects of the confidence
His Majesty has graciously seen fit to repose in you, I am, &c. &c. Sir;—You are hereby desired to furnish such information respecting British
vessels in your waters, as the bearer, Mr. Belfort, may have occasion to
require on the secret service in which he is engaged, and also to further
his purposes, which he will make known to you, with every aid at your
command. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 204 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Freemantle, or, The privateersman! | | | | 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 scenes of the following story are laid about the beautiful shores and
among the pleasant islands of Boston Bay, near the close of the last war with
Great Britain. This contest, it will be remembered, was remarkably characterised
for the great number, boldness and success of the privateers which
sailed out of the New England ports and covered every sea whitened by British
commerce. `Hebert Vincent, late midshipman in the Navy of the United States, having
deserted his ship at Newport, is dismissed from the service; his expulsion to
take effect from the 14th inst. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 205 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Grace Weldon, or Frederica, the bonnet-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: | At the conclusion of one of those little romances, hardly to be dignified
by the name of novels, which, during the past year, we have thrown off
from the press, we promised one day a continuation. In that romance,
which bore the title of `Jemmy Daily,' we took juvenile subjects, and
brought them forward to the verge of manhood, leaving them just as they
were about entering into the whirl of life. The numerous applications from
`little folk,' that we have since been honored with, to redeem our promise to
write a sequel, we cannot well resist any longer; and hereby prepare to
make good our pledge. We shall begin our story by introducing, for the
benefit of those who have not seen `Jemmy Daily,' the concluding paragraph
of that work. It is as follows: `I have received a line from James, saying he is not well. Be so kind
as to go and see him, and let me know how he is, and if he wants any thing
to be done for him, and send me word. His absence confines me to the
counting-room. His mother lives at No. — Washington street, below Summer.
It is but a step. `Dear Sir, — As you have been so obliging as to pay once or twice my
checks for large over-drafts at your counter, you will oblige me by paying
this at sight, though I am aware I have but a trifle set to my credit on the
bank books. To-morrow I will deposite the full amount. I should not presume
upon this liberty but for my knowledge of your former indulgence,
when I have carelessly overdrawn. Trusting the same confidence in me will
now prevent this from being returned “without funds,” I enclose it by my
usual bank clerk. An unexpected negotiation I have entered into since
drawing out the one thousand dollars, compels me to anticipate in this manner
the morrow's deposits. `Sir, — I feel it my duty to caution you against paying any checks offered
you, professing to be drawn by W. Weldon, merchant, on Central Wharf,
as in all likelihood such checks will prove to be forgeries, if offered to you
by Mr. Weldon's head clerk, or by a lad with light hair and blue eyes, whom
he has selected to present them, as resembling Mr. Weldon's son. My
motive in warning you proceeds from the dictates of a troubled conscience,
for I have been a guilty participator in the crime of deceiving you, with Mr.
Daily, the clerk alluded to; but I can no longer be so, and be happy. James
Daily began his operations by employing the lad you have so often seen, and
who will present you a forged check, this morning, for twenty-five hundred
dollars, which I hope you will not have paid ere this caution reaches you.
He began, I say, about three weeks ago, by engaging a shrewd youth to act
for him, and present the checks. The reason why, after overdrawing, he
paid back again the overplus, was to deceive the bank into security, and
blind you! This was done twice. In both cases it was the part of a subtle
plot, deeply laid by Daily, for reaping, by-and-bye, a rich harvest. Of the
last draft, for eleven hundred, which this upright clerk forged, and the lad
presented, only one thousand were re-deposited, as you will recollect, one
hundred being kept back by him. This was only the first picking of Daily's
harvest, which he promised to himself. He had now got you familiar with
his clerk's face, (the blue-eyed lad,) and had lulled your fears, by promptly
depositing when over-checking. It now remained for him to pursue the play
in his own way. All he would have to do, when he wanted funds for his
private purposes, to pay gambling debts, &c., was to draw a check on your
bank, send it by the youth, receive the money, and then so manage that Mr.
Weldon would be kept in ignorance of the diminution of his funds. This
was, and is his plan. And, as the first fruits of it, he has this morning
showed me a draft (forged) for twenty-five hundred dollars, every dollar of
which he intends to defraud the bank of; and as I know his next checks
will be much larger, and as I tremble for the consequences to myself and
brother, (for the lad he has beguiled is my brother,) I have thought it best
to inform the bank in season, hoping, that should any steps be taken against
James Daily, and he should implicate my brother, that he, as well as I, may
be passed over, by reason of his youth, and my present voluntary information
given to the bank. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 206 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Montezuma, the serf, or, The revolt of the Mexitili | | | | 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: | `Stand aside, serf!' were the stern tones of an officer, addressed to a youth. While these events were transpiring within the palace, scenes of an
opposite character were opening in the net-marker's quarter, and the neighborhood
of the street of the Armorers. In a few minutes after parting
with Casipeti at the palace-stairs, Montezuma landed on the opposite shore,
at the foot of his own street. He entered his dwelling, to see if by chance
any of his friends were there, and to leave a word of warning with Fatziza.
He then hastened towards the arsenal, which Sismarqui had been ordered
to seize, and the garrison of which his brother, who was one of the soldiers,
had succeeded in corrupting. This he felt was the most important point to
visit first, as it contained nearly all the weapons with which the revolters
were to arm themselves. `Nephew, — The gods gave you life to elevate you, by its proper use, to
equality, after death, with themselves. You have defeated this intention of
your existence. The deity waits to receive back the gift of which you have
proved yourself unworthy. Degraded, dishonored, and despised, you can no
longer wish to live, and, like a brave man, have professed your desire to die.
This last virtuous wish, unhappy prince, I have seen fit to enable you to
fulfil, although, if I measured your punishment by your guilt, I should condemn
you to live. May the river of death purify thy soul, and may the
gods yet grant you to begin a new existence in another state! Thou wilt
find the last best gift of heaven to man that hath outlived his honor, in the
cup I send thee! I commend thee to the gods. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 207 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Neal Nelson | | | | 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 early in the beginning of that
memorable contest which dismembered
a powerful and splendid empire,' and
to which a brave people were driven by
the oppressive measures of the British
ministry, that the following story opens. A commander-in-chief cannot be too
cautious whom he employs about his person
and makes confidants of his plans and
purposes; especially in the position you
are in, surrounded by enemies whom you
have no means of knowing are other than
they seem. The writer need not apprize
you that the romantic notions of liberty
and independence have seized upon the
minds of more than one youth in the
British army and that they have become
disloyal to their king and taken arms with
the rebels! It will not therefore so much
surprise you to learn the disaffection and
disloyalty of one near your own person
and related to you by ties of consanquinity.
I allude to Neal Nelson, against
whom I deem it my duty to put you on
your guard. I recommend to you to observe
closely his conduct, and watch him
when he absents himself from head quarters.
It is easy for a traitor who has the
pass word to go out and in the city at
will. A word to the wise is enough; and
General Howe is known not to be wanting
in wisdom.' | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 208 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The wing of the wind | | | | 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: | From a child I have prayed as hard as I knew how, never
to be led into temptation; but then I never expected I should be tempted with such
a round lump as twenty thousand bright silver dollars! To tell you frankly, the
temptation is irresistible. I have beat against it, but it has fairly got to the windward
of me. I have weighed the whole matter and feel that I shall not again have
such an opportunity to make my fortune; and so I tender you my resignation. It
is better to have twenty thousand in hand, than run the chance of picking it up at
sea from prizes, and then by-and-bye swing at the yard-arm of a man-of-war. I am
content with the cool “XX”. I do but follow your example with the Colombians.
I take this with better conscience, inasmuch as it does no injury either to the Don or
his daughter; for had the money got on board they would never have come off. So,
taking this moral view of the case, I shall decline going on board again. I shall
take this note to the cutter and despatch it to you. I wish you a pleasant cruise,
plenty of prize money, and plenty of slack to the rope that will one day be gently
bent about your neck with a running noose. Your appearance on board—your gallantry,—the reflection that
I owe to you more than life, impels me to address you. I owe you
an apology for my past treatment of you when once you bestowed
upon me your regard. I ask your forgiveness, though I have never
forgiven myself. I was influenced to act as I did by representations
made to my father and myself, against your character. They bore
the air of truth, and were believed. Circumstances afterwards convinced
me that I had done you injustice, and that you had been the
victim of one whom you had ignorantly made your enemy. He deliberately
plotted your ruin in my estimation, and, I am sorry to say,
so far succeeded as to lead me to take a position with regard to you,
which it has since deeply pained me to reflect upon. I now embrace
the first opportunity—an opportunity I have long wished for—to make
this avowal. It is due to myself as well as to you. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 209 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Alice May | | | | 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 write to avail myself of my privilege and duty, as your betrothed
wife, to throw myself, at a crisis which has just occured in my life,
upon your love! A certain Count Bondier is persecuting me with his
attentions, and although I have in every way, not absolutely to insult
him, shown him my repugnance to his suit, and also distinctly and firmly
declined his addresses, yet he pursues them encouraged by my father
who is warmly in favor of an alliance with his powerful family through
me. My father has just left me with a menace that unless I will consent
to marry him at the end of three months, that he will immure me
in a convent, which God knows is to be preferred. I have asked and
obtained six weeks to decide. This letter will reach you in two. It
will take three weeks for you to reach here. I need not ask you to
fly—for my love tells me you will soon be here to claim your lover as
your bride! I have just heard something that has frozen my blood! I write, I
know not what! Do not come! I am lost to you forever! | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 210 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Bonfield, or, The outlaw of the Bermudas | | | | 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: | Still shorter was a short winter's day
rendered by a heavy and gloomy mist
that filled the atmosphere and made it
murky twilight long before the sun went
down. It had just ended, in blasts and
pelting rain, when a Thames boatman,
chilled and wet by exposure, and with
a pair of oars upon his shoulder, entered
the door of his humble abode by the
river side. `I have just learned that you are desirous
of communicating with the fleet
under Admiral Nelson, and are looking
for a fleet sailing vessel. I offer you
mine, and my services at any time after
twelve o'clock to-night. My schooner's
sailing qualities I need not speak of as
they are doubtless well-known to your
lordship, for some of his Majesty's cruisers
have of late tested them. I offer
your lordship my services in good faith,
and will perform my errand with punctuality
and honesty. Though a smuggler
by profession, I am an Englishman at
heart. If your lordship will forget that
I am the former, I will only remember
that I am the latter. I pledge myself to
reach Lord Nelson within eight and forty
hours after I take the despatches on board
if the present wind holds. `Well, you rogue, you are wanted
again. You must be in London with
your schooner within five days without
fail. Come up under revenue colors in
the day time until within ten miles of
London, and then keep on after dark
and anchor off a pier one mile and a
half below the Tower. You will know
the place by two large oaks that grow at
the head of the pier and by a red light
which you will see suspended in the
branches of one of the oaks. You will
answer this light by another in your
rigging. Your motions must be secret
and cautious. When you reach the
place, which you must try to do at least
two hours after dark (there will be a
six days' moon), drop your anchor short
and trail up, not furl. Lay there till
you see a boat put off to you. It will
hail you and ask the news from Nelson.
This boat you will let come on board,
when you will give yourself up to the
services and interests of those who shall
visit you. You will be well paid, and
all you are desired to do in return is to
be faithful and secret.' `Sir,—The bearer of this is Captain
Bonfield. He takes out as passengers, a
young woman and child. The female is
deaf and dumb. You are hereby desired
to receive them into, your house, and
take care of them, maintaing and providing
for them as for members of your
own household. She is to pass for your
sister, and the child as your niece. For
their expenses you will draw two hundred
and fifty pounds a year in addition
to your present allowance, and from the
same source. On no account must the
woman or child be permitted to leave the
island. For their safe detention you will
be answerable. You will be watched.
Be faithful, therefore, to those who have
it in their power to injure you. Ask no
questions. Preserve silence, and be discreet,
and your conduct will meet with
recompense. The bearer after leaving
them safely in your hands, is empowered
by me to receive four thousand pounds;
for which an order is enclosed on —
which you will endorse and present for
payment. The child's name is Virginia,
to which you may add your own family
name; as it will henceforward grow up
and be regarded as one of your own
family. As soon as possible you may
forget that she has ever been otherwise.
The woman who is deaf and dumb you
will treat with kindness and respect, and
provide for all her wants, seeing that she
lacks nothing for her comfort. Upon the
exact and faithful performance of all
these requisitions will depend your own
future interests. `This night I have landed with an
armed party and invested the cottage of
Robert Oakford, where the two passengers
you entrusted to me six years ago
are placed under his protection. I have,
by force of arms, taken the two out of
his possession, and am about to convey
them on board my vessel and sail with
them from the island. Believe me that
your agents, Robert Oakford and sister,
have done all that they were able to prevent
me from taking them away; but as
I was determined at all risks to get them
both into my possession, they have had
no other alternative but submission. Sir,—The bearer of this has informed
me, in an accidental manner, of his
obligations to you, and the circumstances
under which they were entered into. I
need not say I am surprised at hearing
the facts. They are characteristic of
yourself. You will, upon reading this,
give him a receipt in full for all and whatsoever
claim upon him or the father you
may hold; the incarceration and long illness
consequent thereupon having in
equity fully cancelled your debt. `I have but a few hours to live. I
must see you before I die. Let nothing
prevent your hastening to me without a
moment's delay. `I am married. The noble and
amiable Flora is mine. Her relatives in
England have sent for her, and we leave
in the vessel which is anchored near
the gardens. On board this vessel I was
united to Flora at eight o'clock this
morning. I go to England with my dear
wife to gratify her; for you must know
she is no relative of the old gardener, but
is an orphan, who was placed under his
charge in a mysterious way with money
in plenty for him to educate her. This
he has done. Tbe captain of the vessel
says that her relatives have been discovered
in England, and that they have sent
him express for her. He has just told me
that they are certainly noble. But this
assurance does not make me think more
of Flora. I have loved her in her humility.
I could love her no more were she
a princess. No title of nobility could
make her nobler than she is in my eyes.
But as the captain is not sure even of the
name of her relatives, who seem to have
kept him in the same kind of mystery
which from childhood has hung about
Flora, it may be that they are of humble
degree. But should I find that they were
of the peasantry, and dwelt in earthen
hovels, I should think no less of Flora.
To me she would always be Flora. I
shall probably return after an absence of
three months. Present my regards to my
father. Still and ever, whatever you
may be to me, Margaret, I have just arrived in London with
Flora. I wait your orders. `I write to say that you need not
take the trouble to visit Hawthorn Lodge,
for we have resolved to disown our relationship
with one who has shown himself
unworthy to belong to the best society.
As for your wife, I trust that you
will see that she never presumes to speak
to me, should I be so unfortunate as to
meet her in the street. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 211 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Leisler, or, The rebel and king's man | | | | 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: | Bits of history in a novel, especially at
the outset, we very well know, are by no
means relished by novel-readers, who
generally like to open at once upon the
action of the story. But it is sometimes
necessary, particularly when a romance
is based upon an interesting historical
incident, to lay before the reader a brief
outline of the events upon which the tale
hangs. It is better, we think, to do this
at the outset, in a fair and above-board
manner, than open with an interesting
scene, and before the reader has got half
a dozen pages, smuggle in two or three
solid pages of history, through which he
must flounder, or take them at a flying
leap. We don't like this mode of cheating
our friends, so we place our history
in the fore-ground, that it may be fairly
met at the outset. Sir: Knowing that you possess no little
influence and the confidence of the
Protestant citizens, and believing that a
communication to you will be the same
as to them in the aggregate, I proceed to
inform you that Lieutenant Colonel Nictolson;
late acting Governor of this Province,
under a commission from King
James II, having refused to acknowledge
the authority of William, the Prince of
Orange, has seen fit to abdicate his government.
He has this night past embarked
on board a Swedish ship now in the
harbor, and will sail at once for Europe.
It was his desire that I should accompany
him; but as it does not suit my purposes
to quit the Province just now, I remain.
Now herewith I propose to surrender the
post and all appertaining to it to you, for
the sum of ten thousand pounds; otherwise
I shall defend it with the soldiers
that are in it, against you and yours to
to the last extremity. `You perceive, gentleman,' he said as
they read the address, at the begining,
`that I have anticipated your suggestion.
I was interrupted, by your calling, in the
composition of a solemn remonstrance to
their Majesties, against Leisler's government.
I will read to you, what I have
written.' If you have a secure shelter,
do not quit it, for your life is in danger.
For my sake do not venture to town
again, as no disguise will protect you.—
Have you repented—will you become a
protestant? I think of you momently.—
My father has told me to-day, that I must
positively marry the burgomaster, on pain
of his displeasure. Oh, that you were a
protestant! I know not what or how to address
you. In a word, if you would have me,
you must come and take me! It is in vain
for me so resist my father and Van Vow
conjointly. I must fly from the fort, or
before eight o'clock to-night be the wife
of this hateful simpleton. I have no escape
unless I take poison or fly to you. I
think nothing of your being a Roman,
for I know when I am your wife you will
isten to me. I think only of my love for
you! of avoiding this horrible fate that
awaits me. My father is stern and unbending.
Van Vow is resolute. I have
thrown myself upon the mercy of the former
in vain; I have entreated the latter
to spare me. I have told him I love him
not, that I cannot love him. He is without
feeling. He has finally, within the
last half-hour said if I will pay him back
the thousand dollars he will release me.
I am mortified to allude to this, since you
have not done so. But what can I do?
I am in his power. If you can send the
money to me do so at once and let me
return it to him; for if he should inform
my father I shall have to confess all, and
I know not what will be my fate. You
see I write with frankness to you as one
in whom I trust my heart and happiness,
for I believe you truthful and noble, and
that you love me even as I love you. This
is a crisis when it would be weak and
foolish in me to disguise any thing I feel;
and I have not done so. Send the money,
if you can, or let me hear from you. Forgive the step I have taken.—
I could NOT become the wife of Mynheer
Van Vow.—I write to assure you of my
safety. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 212 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The lady of the Gulf | | | | 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 near the close of an unusually severe day in March, that a
person muffled to the eyes in a handsome dark-colored cloak, and wearing
a singularly shabby fur cap, might have been seen stealing along
the walk, in Chatham street, opposite the Pawnbrokers' or Jews' Row.
His step was slow and hesitating, while his eyes furtively glanced about,
now up the street, now down, as if fearing that his movements would
be observed. His height and figure were good, and his air genteel,
but in his seedy cap, and in his shrunken, worn trowsers, and old boots,
that appeared beneath his very elegant Spanish cloak, there was a discrepancy
that might have arrested the eye of any observing passer by.
But no one of the hurrying crowd noticed him. Each one was bent on
his own business and aim. The mechanic, with his hands filled with
tools, was hastening to his family; the sewing girl, in hood and shawl,
to her humble home far up town where rents were cheap; the man of
pleasure was pressing forward to the theatre for an early seat; the
beggar, shuffling along to his hole in some wretched cellar. No one
noticed him, for extremes, in the metropolis, are too often wedded to
attract remark. But the young man did not seem to avoid observation
upon his dress, but upon his movements. Three times, he passed and
repassed a narrow door hung about with second-hand garments, over
the lintel of which was suspended a sign representing three gilt balls,
the well-known beacon for the wretched. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 213 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The mysterious state-room | | | | 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 gentleman who gave the bride away was Mr. A—, her banker,
to whom she had written to attend the ceremony. The paper
she gave the priest contained her name and title. Catesby neither knew
nor suspected anything of so singular and fortunate a denouement. In
a few weeks, Frank having resigned his commission in the army, left
America for this country, and on their arrival, drove directly over to
Castle C—' where his charming wife at once surrendered to him
her family mansion and vast estates. The change has not spoiled him.
He is one of the most agreeable and gentlemanly men in England, and
highly popular in his country. He is called by courtesy, (his wife's
title having been by her marriage merged in his republican Mister or
Captain,) Lord C—, of C—Castle, C—. His charming
wife is devoted to him heart and soul. Never was a marriage more
for love than this! He thought her lowly and his love raised her to his
bosom—she knew him only to be a young American, without rank or
title, yet, for love, she gave him all she had to give—beauty, wealth,
and rank among nobles. They have two lovely children, a boy and
girl; and the only subject on which they differ is their education. Catesby
is for making the little fellow a republican, and sending him to West
Point; while Clara intends him for Parliament, and to inherit her father's
title and estates, which he will do—the little fellow's title being
through his mother, Lord Viscount C—. You will by this time
understand that the `uncle and aunt,' were Lady Clara's steward and his
wife, whom she dragged with her from home, half over the world as
her protectors when she started off on her wild travels. There can be
nogreater instance of the peculiarly independent character of her mind
than the fact of her quitting with disgust, the scenes of London disappation
and resisting the fascinations of her numerous admirers, to
roam amid the scenery of America, and commune with the works of
nature in a world where nature has exhibited in the most stupendous
manner her power and majesty. They live very retired, and seldom
stay more than a third of the season in town. The remainder of the
year they are in the country combining together in dispensing for the
happiness and comfort of their numerous dependants the wealth with
which they are blest. It was by accident I met Frank in town at the
close of the season, and as he would not let me say nay—and something
of his story coming to my mind, I consented to go down with him,
partly from curiosity to learn its truth, I confess, but mainly, as you
must know, to enjoy once more the society of one who was for four
years my fellow cadet. Do not say after this that my letters are too
short. Adieu, until the next trip of the Liverpool. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 214 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The odd fellow, or, The secret association, and Foraging Peter | | | | 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: | `My Dear friend and `brother':—I am happy to inform you of my safe
arrival here yesterday, having been detained in New York by illness. I am
now quite well again and hasten to return you my acknowledgments for
your kind assistance, and that of your Order. The amount of money generously
advanced me, and the bill for my wardrobe is something under the
amount I enclose, which I beg you will do me the favor to return to the society,
for the aid of others of the Order who like me may be thrown by
Providence in a condition to call for its benevolence. I pray you will present
my regards to your family and accept the assurances of my grateful
friendship. If you, or any of your friends should visit Baltimore, where I
shall remain and engage in the mercantile business, I shall esteem myself
signally happy in extending to you our hospitality. Mr. Peter Dalton and his Lady most earnestly request the high honor of
his lordship's, the Earl of Elliston's noble company at a sworree to be given
by them in his honor Tuesday evening next. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 216 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | 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. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 219 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | 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!” | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 220 | Author: | Ingraham
J. H.
(Joseph Holt)
1809-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | 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. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
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