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141Author:  Thomas Frederick William 1806-1866Requires cookie*
 Title:  Sketches of character, and tales founded on fact  
 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 
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142Author:  Thompson Daniel P. (Daniel Pierce) 1795-1868Requires cookie*
 Title:  May Martin, or, The money diggers  
 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 one of those rough and secluded towns, situated in the heart of the Green Mountains, is a picturesque little valley, containing, perhaps, something over two thousand acres of improvable land, formerly known in that section of the country by the appallation of The Harwood Settlement, so called from the name of the original proprietor of the valley. As if formed by some giant hand, literally scooping out the solid mountain and moulding it into shape and proportion, the whole valley presents the exact resemblance of an oval basin whose sides are composed of a continuous ridge of lofty hills bordering it around, and broken only by two narrow outlets at its northerly and southerly extremities. The eastern part of this valley is covered by one of those transparent ponds, which are so beautifully characteristic of Vermontane scenery, laying in the form of a crescent, and extending along beneath the closely encircling mountains on the east nearly the whole length of the interior landscape, forever mirroring up from its darkly bright surface, faintly or vividly, as cloud or sunshine may prevail, the motley groups of the sombre forest, where the more slender and softer tinted beech and maple seem struggling for a place among the rough and shaggy forms of the sturdy hemlock, peering head over head, up the steeply ascending cliffs of the woody precipice. While here and there, at distant intervals, towering high over all, stands the princely pine, waving its majestic head in solitary grandeur, a striking but melancholy type of the aboriginal A* Indian still occasionally found lingering among us, the only remaining representative of a once powerful race, which have receded before the march of civilized men, now destined no more to flourish the lords of the plain and the mountain. This pond discharges its surplus waters at its southern extremity in a pure stream of considerable size, which here, as if in wild glee at its escape from the embrace of its parent waters, leaps at once, from a state of the most unruffled tranquility, over a ledgy barrier, and, with noisy reverberations, goes bounding along from cliff to cliff, in a series of romantic cascades, down a deep ravine, till the lessening echoes are lost in the sinuosities of the outlet of the valley. From the western shore of this sheet of water the land rises in gentle undulations, and with a gradual ascent, back to the foot of the mountains, which here, as on every other side, rear their ever-green summits to the clouds, standing around this vast fortress of nature as huge centinels posted along the lofty outworks to battle with the careering hurricanes that burst in fury on their immovable sides, and arrest and receive on their own unscathed heads the shafts of the lightning descending for its victims to the valley below, while they cheerily bandy from side to side the voicy echoes of the thunderpeal with their mighty brethren of the opposite rampart.
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143Author:  Thompson Daniel P. (Daniel Pierce) 1795-1868Requires cookie*
 Title:  The adventures of Timothy Peacock, Esquire, or, Freemasonry practically illustrated  
 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 Hero, the present Thrice Illustrious TIMOTHY PEACOCK, Esquire, was born in a small village in the interior of Rhode Island. His father and mother were deserters from a British fleet. They had, however, once seen brighter days than this circumstance might seem to imply; for Mr. Peacock, at one time, had the honor to write himself Chief Butcher to His Majesty George III., London. Mrs. Peacock, before she united her destinies to those of the honored father of our hero—that union which was to bestow upon the New World the brightest masonic star that ever illumined the wondering hemisphere of the West—Mrs. Peacock, I say, was called the Billingsgate Beauty. They very mackerels she sold might shrink from a comparison with the plumpness of her person, and the claws of her own lobsters were nothing in redness to the vermillion of her cheeks. She made, as may well be supposed, sad devastation among the hearts of the gallant young fish-mongers.—Oystermen, clam-cryers, carpers, shrimpers and all—all fell before the scorching blaze of her optical artillery. But she would have mercy on none of them; she aspired to a higher destiny; and her laudable ambition was rewarded with the most flattering success; for she soon saw herself the distinguished lady of Peletiah Peacock, Chief Butcher to His Majesty. But how she became the envy of many a dashing butcheress, by the splendor of her appearance,—how her husband flourished, and how he fell, and was driven from the stalls of royalty,—how he took leave of the baffled bum-bailiffs of his native city, enlisted on board a man of war, and sailed for America, with permission for his loving rib to accompany him,—how they both deserted at a New England port, at which the vessel had touched, and were housed in a friendly hay-stack in the neighborhood till the search was over and vessel departed,—and, finally, how they travelled over land till they reached the smiling village where they found their abiding domicil, belongs, perhaps, to the literati of Britain to relate. They have, and of right ought to have, the first claim on the achievements of their countrymen with which to fill the bright pages of their country's biography; and to them then let us graciously yield the honor of enshrining his memory with those of their Reverend `Fiddlers' and truth-telling `Trollopes.' Far be it from me to rob them of the glory of this theme.—Mine is a different object; and I shall mention no more of the deeds of the father than I conceive necessary to elucidate the history of the son, whose brilliant career I have attempted, with trembling diffidence, to sketch in the following unworthy pages.
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144Author:  Thompson Daniel P. (Daniel Pierce) 1795-1868Requires cookie*
 Title:  The Green Mountain boys  
 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 
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145Author:  Thompson Daniel P. (Daniel Pierce) 1795-1868Requires cookie*
 Title:  The Green Mountain boys  
 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 seems to be universally conceded that the first settlers of Vermont were men of an iron mould, and of an indomitable spirit. And it is no less true, we apprehend, that with corporeal frames, unusually large and muscular, and constitutions peculiarly robust and enduring, they possessed, also, intelligence and mental energies, which, considering what might naturally be expected of men of their condition in life, and in their situation in a wilderness affording none of the ordinary means of intellectual culture, were equally remarkable. The proof of these assertions is to be abundantly found, we think, in the unequalled stand taken by them for their rights, in their memorable controversy with New York, and in the multiplied documents that grew out of it, in the shape of resolves and decrees of conventions, addresses to the people, memorials and remonstrances to the governor of that province, and to the British throne itself, all drawn up with great clearness and cogency of reasoning, and evincing a knowledge of natural and constitutional rights in a people, among whom law as a profession was then entirely unknown, which are generally to be found only in the courts and councils of old and highly civilized countries. And even were these testimonials to their character wholly wanting, ample evidence, that they were a generation of no ordinary men, may still be seen in the scattered remnant of this noble band of heroes yet lingering among us, like the few and aged pines on their evergreen mountains, and, though now bowed down by the weight of nearly a century of years, exhibiting frames, which would almost seem to indicate them as men belonging to another race, and which are still animated by the light of wisdom and intelligence, and warmed by the unconquerable spirit of freedom yet burning unwasted within them. “From my heart I thank you for your kind note. All as yet remains undiscovered,—painful, painful exigency! which compels concealment of so important a step from an only parent! And yet I regret not my troth; and whatever of sorrow it may cost me, I will not repine at the fruit of a tree of my own planting. Heaven preserve you, my very dear friend, in the hour of peril, and crown with success your efforts in the cause of freedom. “Your few lines, my dear sir, have been received, and read, I know not how many times over, and with an interest which I dare not acknowledge. Your propositions, too, have been all candidly, and even anxiously weighed. And it is with many, very many regrets, my more than friend, that I am forced to the conclusion that, at present, it were better, that they be not complied with. You first propose to come here openly, explain to my father the reasons which compelled you to that course, which he pretends so much to censure, and claim the privilege of addressing me:—all the explanations, which it may be needful to make, would, I am satisfied, with my father's present feelings and impressions, be better listened to from me than yourself. And most assuredly they shall be made to him as soon as his mood shall be such as shall warrant the belief that they will be received, without passion or prejudice. And before you take the step you propose, I could wish also to see to some change in his views relative to the match he has marked out for me. And changed, believe me, they sooner or later will be. Reason will at length resume her sway; and, to say nothing of your character, the character of one of whom I would not willingly speak my opinion, must soon be better known to him. And he will see, and feel, for himself, that his present requirements are neither wise nor generous. But do not, for my sake, for your own sake, beloved friend, attempt to accomplish all this now, under circumstances so inauspicious: for I feel it would be useless; and not only so, but lead, probably, to the defeat of the objects, and consequently the happiness of us both. No, Warrington, be patient, trust in Heaven to expose guilt, and reward inocence, and rely on the constancy of her, who is resolved to bring about a state of things when her lover can be received in her father's house with the kindness and respect to which he is entitled. `Be astonished, O, ye heavens! and Alma Hendee, be you thunder struck! as I know you will be, when you learn, that we are—every man of us,—the Major and all, prisoners of war! Yes, I am a second time a prisoner to Mr. Selden! What means it, Alma? There is some strange fatality about it, that passes my poor comprehension. O, for some one deeply skilled in scanning the future—some one gifted with the second sight, which is claimed by our Highland seers in Scotland, to divine to me the portent of this singular happening! How very surprised *7 we all were when they landed—a body of armed men—and marched up, taking possession of the yard, and disarming our soldiers. “Major Warrington,—Our intimacy is forever ended. As no explanations need be given, so none will be received. I trust, therefore, that no further communications on your part will be attempted. “Miss Hendee, I guess, will remember, how, a year or two ago, a man came to your house and mended the things; and how he made some statements about Charles Warrington, the Colonel that now is. Now, what I said at that time has worried my feelings a great deal most ever since. Though I then really thought what I said was justifiable, even if it was not quite true, as I was made to believe it to be for your good. But I soon after found out what I told you was not so, for I didn't know myself, and only said what I was asked to say. This was the story of it. As I was going from house to house, working at my trade there in your part of the settlement, I fell in with a plausible sort of a man,— I don't think I had best call him by name,—and we after a while got to talking about Warrington, whom I had seen often enough, though I knew nothing about his private affairs. Well, he, in a smooth kind of way, said there was one thing that hurt his feelings; and that was, that Warrington was doing the wrong thing by a relative of his, a very likely girl, that he pretended to be courting for the sake of getting her family on his side in the York quarrel, when to his certain knowledge, he had a young wife that he had deserted down country. He said it was a great pity to have the girl so deceived, and he would give two gold guineas to any one who would break up the courtship. But he said it would do no kinder good for her relations to try; and they were very anxious some one else should undertake to do it. He then told me his plan was, that he and I, if I would agree to do it, should first kinder secretly tell folks this story about the deserted wife, so that it should get to her, and make her begin to believe it; and then I should go there and pretend to come from where Warrington used to live, and let drop some how, before the girl, that I was knowing myself to that business about his being married. Well, he kinder drew me into this plan, and I being poor, consented for the money to do as I did. But I soon mistrusted that this man had some wrong design, which I found out to be the case, and I feel very sorry, and ask pardon for what happened; and shall feel very bad if I done any mischief by it, as I think Colonel Warrington a very likely man. I think I shall feel easier now in my mind, but I guess, considering, I shant sign my name, though I am not ashamed of it, or at least I never was in any other affair since I was born. It is one of the felicities of soldiership, and of the gratifications of a commander, to award the meed of approbation to fidelity in a common cause, and fealty to a common sovereign. This meed, Sir, I deem it no flattery to say is yours, speaking, as I do, from personal acquaintance, and on the voucher of Colonel Beverly Robinson, a Loyal American officer, of worth, and zeal, and activity. “This may certify that David Remington, the bearer hereof, is thought to be a true friend to the States of America.
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146Author:  Thompson Daniel P. (Daniel Pierce) 1795-1868Requires cookie*
 Title:  Locke Amsden, The schoolmaster  
 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, contrary perhaps to fashionable precedent, opens at a common farm-house, situated on one of the principal roads leading through the interior of the northerly portion of the Union. It was near the middle of the day, in that part of the spring season when the rough and chill features of winter are becoming so equally blended with the soft and mild ones of summer upon the face of nature, that we feel at loss in deciding whether the characteristics of the one or the other most prevail. The hills were mostly bare, but their appearance was not that of summer; and the tempted eye turned away unsatisfied from the cheerless prospect which their dreary and frost-blackened sides presented. The levels, on the other hand, were still covered with snow; and yet their aspect was not that of winter. Clumps of willows, scattered along the hedges, or around the waste-places of the meadows, were white with the starting buds or blossoms of spring. The old white mantle of the frost-king was also becoming sadly dingy and tattered. Each stump and stone was enclosed by a widening circle of bare ground; while the tops of the furrows, peering through the dissolving snows, were beginning to streak, with long, faint, dotted lines, the self-disclosing plough-fields. The cattle were lazily ruminating in the barn-yard, occasionally lowing and casting a wistful glance at the bare hills around, but without offering to move towards them, as if they thought that the prospects there were hardly sufficient to induce them yet to leave their winter quarters. The earth-loving sheep, however, had broken from their fold, and, having reached the borders of the hills by some partially trod path, were busily nibbling at the roots of the shriveled herbage, unheedful of the bleating cries of their feebler companions, that they had left stuck in the treacherous snow-drifts, encountered in their migrations from one bare patch to another.
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147Author:  Thompson Daniel P. (Daniel Pierce) 1795-1868Requires cookie*
 Title:  Lucy Hosmer, or, The guardian and ghost  
 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 
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148Author:  Thompson Daniel P. (Daniel Pierce) 1795-1868Requires cookie*
 Title:  The Shaker lovers, 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 
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149Author:  Jones Joseph 1812-1882Requires cookie*
 Title:  Chronicles of Pineville  
 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 
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150Author:  Jones Joseph 1812-1882Requires cookie*
 Title:  Major Jones's sketches of travel  
 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 
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151Author:  Thorpe Thomas Bangs 1815-1878Requires cookie*
 Title:  The mysteries of the backwoods, or, Sketches of the Southwest  
 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: We have wandered over the Louisiana prairies, our little pony, like an adventurous bark, seemingly trusting itself imprudently beyond the headlands, a mere speck, moving among the luxuriant islands of live oak that here and there sit so quietly upon the rolling waves of vegetation. Myriads of wild geese would often rise upon our intrusion, helping out the fancy of being at sea; but the bounding deer, or wild cattle, that occasionally resented our presence and rattled off at break-neck pace, kept us firmly on the land. In the spring seasons, the prairies are covered with the choicest flowers, that mix with the young grass in such profusion as to carpet them more delicately, and more richly, than in the seraglio of a sultan. Upon this vegetation innumerable cattle feed and fatten, until they look pampered, and their skins glisten like silk in the sun. Apparently wild as the buffalo, they are all marked and numbered, and in them consist the wealth of the inhabitant of the prairie. It is easy to imagine that herdsmen of such immense fields live a wild and free life; ever on horseback, like the Arabs, they have no fear save when out of the saddle, and nature has kindly provided a “steed” that boasts of no particular blood, that may be called the “yankee” of his kind, because it never tires, never loses its energy, and makes a living and grows fat, where all else of its species would starve.
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152Author:  Trowbridge J. T. (John Townsend) 1827-1916Requires cookie*
 Title:  Kate, the accomplice, or, The preacher and burglar  
 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 
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153Author:  Tucker Beverley 1784-1851Requires cookie*
 Title:  George Balcombe  
 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 length, issuing from the wood, I entered a prairie, more beautiful than any I had yet seen. The surface, gently undulating, presented innumerable swells, on which the eye might rest with pleasure. Many of these were capped with clumps and groves of trees, thus interrupting the dull uniformity which generally wearies the traveller in these vast expanses. I gazed around for a moment with delight but soon found leisure to observe that my road had become alarmingly indistinct. It is easy, indeed, to follow the faintest trace through a prairie. The beaten track, however narrow, wears a peculiar aspect, which makes it distinguishable even at a distance. But the name of Arlington, the place of my destination, denoted at least a village; while the tedious path which I was travelling seemed more like to terminate in the midst of the prairie, than to lead to a public haunt of men. I feared I had missed my way, and looked eagerly ahead for some traveller, who might set me right, if astray. But I looked in vain. The prairie lay before me, a wide waste, without one moving object. The sun had just gone down; and as my horse, enlivened by the shade and the freshness of evening, seemed to recover his mettle, I determined to push on to such termination as my path might lead to. “I wrote you, under date of March tenth, that the bill remitted by you for one thousand dollars, drawn by Edward Montague on the house of Tompkins and Todd of this city, had been paid by a draft on Bell and Brothers of Liverpool, England. This draft I remitted, according to your directions, to my friend John Ferguson, of the house of Ferguson and Partridge, our correspondents there, with instructions to obtain, if possible, from the same house, a draft on the county of Northumberland. In this he succeeded, by procuring a draft on Edward Raby, Esq. of that county, for a like amount. “A draft drawn by Edward Montague, Esq., for one thousand dollars, was this day presented, and paid by us in pursuance of your standing instructions. “The draft of Messrs. Tompkins and Todd, on account of Mr. Montague's annuity, is to hand, and has been duly honoured. “Among the crosses of a wayward destiny, it is not the least, that for so many years I have lost all trace of the only man on earth to whom I could look for kindness or sympathy. Since accident has discovered to me your residence, I have felt as if fate might have in store for me some solace for a life of poverty and disgrace. For the last, indeed, there is no remedy; for the opinion of others cannot stifle the voice of self-reproach, nor deaden the sense of merited dishonour. But, bad as these are, (and they are enough to poison all enjoyment, to extinguish all hope, and to turn the very light of heaven into blackness,) they may be rendered more intolerable by the cold scorn of the world, by the unappeased wants of nature, and by the constant view of sufferings, brought by ourselves on those we love. This complication of evil has been my lot; and if one ray of comfort has ever shot into my benighted mind, it came with the thought, that he who knew me best knew all my fault, but did not think me vile. But what reason have I to think this? Why may not the misconstruction, which conscience has denied me power to correct, have reached you uncontradicted? How can I hope that you have not been told, that the lip, on which, with your last blessing, you left the kiss of pure, and generous, and ill-requited love, has not been since steeped in the pollution of a villain's breath? All this may have been told you. All this you may believe. But, whatever else may be credited against me, you will never doubt my truth. No, George; the fearful proof I once gave that I am incapable of deception, is not forgotten. Take, then, my single word, against all the world can say, that that hallowed kiss `my lip has virgined' to this hour. VOL. I.—M. Except the cold and clammy brow of my dying father, no touch of man has since invaded it; nor has one smile profaned it, since in that moment I consecrated it to virtue. “It is not the purpose of this letter to reproach you with your crimes, or to degrade myself by fruitless complaint of the wretchedness they have brought upon me. My weak voice can add no terrors to the thunders of conscience. The history of my sufferings would be superfluous. So far as you are capable of comprehending them, you already know them. The want of the necessaries of life you can appreciate. Of the sting of self-reproach to a conscience not rendered callous by crime, of the deep sense of irreparable dishonour, of the misery of witnessing distress brought by our fault on those we love, you can form no conception.
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154Author:  Tucker Beverley 1784-1851Requires cookie*
 Title:  George Balcombe  
 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: We now approached the seat of justice for — county, and as we mingled in the crowd of countrymen flocking to the same point, our conversation was necessarily interrupted. I soon saw that Balcombe was distinguished, and that he was an object of interest and curiosity, which was painful to me. By him it seemed to be unmarked, and he moved on with a countenance of quiet serenity, as a man familiar with notoriety, and secure of himself “Your extraordinary communication of the 15th ultimo is before me. In answering it I find myself under the necessity of adverting to much more than it contains; and I shall do so fully, because I find it necessary to make you understand distinctly the relation between us. “Let me indulge a hope that the sight of my name at the bottom of this letter may not prevent you from reading it. Having hitherto received nothing at my hands but what, to you at least, appeared to be injustice, I cannot expect to engage your attention to what I am about to say, without first assuring you that the purpose of this letter is altogether friendly.
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155Author:  Tucker Beverley 1784-1851Requires cookie*
 Title:  The partisan leader  
 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: Poor Arthur! B— had predicted too truly that his heart would have some hankerings at the thought of leaving the house where he had, of late, spent so many pleasant hours. It is so long that I have said nothing about him, that the reader may think him forgotten, or may, himself, have forgotten that there was such a person. He had, in truth, no part in the transactions of which we have been speaking. He was at that time of life when the mind, chameleon like, takes its hue from surrounding objects. He was too young to be advised with, or trusted with important secrets. I have already mentioned that, on the day of the election, he had been detained at home by indisposition. But he had heard of the occurrences of that day; and he was, moreover, unconsciously exposed to influences from every member of the family, all tending to the same point. Least apparent, but not least efficacious, was that of his cousin Lucia. They were of that age when hearts, soft and warm, grow together by mere contact. With thought of love, but without thinking of it, they had become deeply enamored of each other. The thing came about so simply and so naturally, that the result alone needs to be told. Sir: I have the honor to lay before your Excellency an account of the operations of the troops under my command, since the date of my last despatch.
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156Author:  Tuckerman Henry T. (Henry Theodore) 1813-1871Requires cookie*
 Title:  Isabel, or, Sicily  
 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: There is, perhaps, no approach to the old world more impressive to the transatlantic voyager, than the Straits of Gibraltar. The remarkable promontory which rises abruptly before him, is calculated to interest his mind, wearied with the monotony of sea-life, not less as an object of great natural curiosity than from the historical circumstances with which it is associated. Anciently deemed the boundary of the world, it was fabled, that at this point Europe and Africa were united until riven asunder by Hercules, forming the south-western extremity of Andalusia, and long occupied as a Moorish fortress, it awakens the many romantic impressions which embalm the history of Spain; constituting, as it were, the gate of the Mediterranean, the comer from the new world cannot pass its lofty and venerable form, without feeling that he has left the ocean whose waters lave his native shore, and entered a sea hallowed by the annals of antiquity, and renowned for scenes of southern luxuriance and beauty.
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157Author:  Tyler Royall 1757-1826Requires cookie*
 Title:  The Algerine captive, or, The life and adventures of Doctor Updike Underhill  
 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: MINISTER OF THE UNITED STATES AT THE COURT OF LISBON, $C. I derive my birth from one of the first emigrants to New England, being lineally descended from Captain John Underhill, who came into the Massachusetts in the year one thousand six hundred and thirty; of whom honourable mention is made by that elegant, accurate, and interesting historian, the Reverend Jeremy Belknap, in his History of New Hampshire. Remembrin my kind love to Mr. Hilton, I now send you some note of my tryalls at Boston.—Oh that I may come out of this, and al the lyke tryalls, as goold sevene times puryfyed in the furnice. Them there very extraordinary pare of varses, you did yourself the onner to address to a young lada of my partecling acquaintance calls loudly for explination. I shall be happy to do myself the onner of wasting a few charges of powder with you on the morro morning precisely at one half hour before sun rose at the lower end of — wharff. We saluted the castle with seven guns, which was returned with three, and then entered within the immense pier, which forms the port. The prisoners, thirty in number, were conveyed to the castle, where we were received with great parade by the Dey's troops or cologlies, and guarded to a heavy strong tower of the castle. The Portuguese prisoners, to which nation the Algerines have the most violent antipathy, were immediately, with every mark of contempt, spurned into a dark dungeon beneath the foundations of the tower, though there were several merchants of eminence, and one young nobleman, in the number. The Spaniards, whom the Dey's subjects equally detest, and fear more, were confined with me in a grated room, on the second story. We received, the same evening, rations similar to what, we understood, were issued to the garrison. The next day, we were all led to a cleansing house, where we were cleared from vermin, our hair cut short, and our beards close shaved; thence taken to a bath, and, after being well bathed, we were clothed in coarse linen drawers, a strait waistcoat of the same without sleeves, and a kind of tunic or loose coat over the whole, which, with a pair of leather slippers, and a blue cotton cap, equipped us, as we were informed, to appear in the presence of the Dey, who was to select the tenth prisoner from us in person. The next morning, the dragomen or interpreters, were very busy in impressing upon us the most profound respect for the Dey's person and power, and teaching us the obeisance necessary to be made in our approaches to this august potentate. Soon after, we were paraded; and Captain Hamed presented each of us with a paper, written in a base kind of Arabic, describing, as I was informed, our persons, names, country, and conditions in life; so far as our captors could collect from our several examinations. Upon the back of each paper was a mark or number. The same mark was painted upon a flat oval piece of wood, somewhat like a painter's palette, and suspended by a small brass chain to our necks, hanging upon our breasts. The guards then formed a hollow square. We were blind folded until we passed the fortifications, and then suffered to view the city, and the immense rabble, which surrounded us, until we came to the palace of the Dey. Here, after much military parade, the gates were thrown open, and we entered a spacious court yard, at the upper end of which the Dey was seated, upon an eminence, covered with the richest carpeting fringed with gold. A circular canopy of Persian silk was raised over his head, from which were suspended curtains of the richest embroidery, drawn into festoons by silk cords and tassels, enriched with pearls. Over the eminence, upon the right and left, were canopies, which almost vied in B 2 riches with the former, under which stood the Mufri, his numerous Hadgi's, and his principal officers, civil and military; and on each side about seven hundred foot guards were drawn up in the form of a half moon.
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158Author:  Tyler Royall 1757-1826Requires cookie*
 Title:  The Yankey in London  
 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: ACCEPT my warmest thanks for the letters of introduction you presented me at parting, and for those transmitted me by the ship Union; and suffer me, through you, to make my grateful acknowledgments to Mr. G. for his very friendly proffer of making me known to some “excellent English friends.”—I do assure you, very few of our countrymen have left in London such favourable impressions of the American character as that gentleman. Indeed, all our United States' agents have done honour to our national diplomacy: among them Mr. K. and Mr. G. will be long distinguished; the former for the classical elegance of his bureau address, the latter for his commercial science—and both for that dignified, polished demeanour which European gentlemen will hardly admit can be attained without the tour of that continent. I ought, in justice, to observe, that our present envoy is a gentleman highly esteemed for the suavity of his manners, and respected for his adherence to the commercial rights of his nation.
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159Author:  Ware William 1797-1852Requires cookie*
 Title:  Letters of Lucius M. Piso, from Palmyra, to his friend Marcus Curtius at Rome  
 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 first nine of the following Letters have already appeared in the Knickerbocker Magazine.
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160Author:  Ware William 1797-1852Requires cookie*
 Title:  Letters of Lucius M. Piso, from Palmyra, to his friend Marcus Curtius at Rome  
 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: As I returned from the worship of the Christians to the house of Gracchus, my thoughts wandered from the subjects which had just occupied my mind, to the condition of the country, and the prospect now growing more and more portentous of an immediate rupture with Rome. On my way I passed through streets of more than Roman magnificence, exhibiting all the signs of wealth, taste, refinement, and luxury. The happy, lighthearted populace were moving through them, enjoying at their leisure the calm beauty of the evening, or hastening to or from some place of festivity. The earnest tone of conversation, the loud laugh, the witty retort, the merry jest, fell upon my ear from one and another as I passed along. From the windows of the palaces of the merchants and nobles, the rays of innumerable lights streamed across my path, giving to the streets almost the brilliancy of day; and the sound of music, either of martial instruments, or of the harp accompanied by the voice, at every turn arrested my attention, and made me pause to listen.
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