| | 2 | Author: | unknown | Add | | | Title: | History of Virginia  | | | | Published: | 2006 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | Eppa Hunton, Jr., began the practice of law in
1877, and his time and talents were largely concentrated
upon the law and related activities until he
accepted the post of president of the Richmond,
Fredericksburg and Potomac Railroad. Richmond
has been his home since 1901. His grandfather was
Col. Eppa Hunton, and his father, General Eppa
Hunton, and all these and other members of the
family have been since Colonial times among Virginia's
distinguished men of affairs, lawyers, soldiers
and statesmen. "Headquarters Thirtieth Division, Camp Jackson,
South Carolina, April 7, 1919. While in charge of a 37-mm gun section in advance
of the assaulting troops, Lieutenant Menefee displayed
unusual courage, operating the gun himself
after his gunners had been killed, thereby reducing
a machine-gun nest which had been holding up the
line. You are hereby authorized to present this cross
to First Lieutenant Marvin James Menefee, in the
name of the commander-in-chief. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 3 | Author: | Read
Thomas Buchanan
1822-1872 | Add | | | Title: | Paul Redding | | | | 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 Brandywine river may be observed, at one
time, winding slowly, in its silvery silence, through
richly-pastured farms; or running broad and rippling
over its beautiful bed of pearly shells and
golden pebbles, (with which it toys and sings as
merrily as an innocent-hearted child,) until its
waters contract and roll heavily and darkly beneath
the grove of giant oaks, elms and sycamores; but
soon, like the sullen flow of a dark heart, it breaks
angrily over the first obstruction. Thus you may
see the Brandywine, at one point, boiling savagely
over a broken bed of rocks, until its thick sheets of
foam slide, like an avalanche of snow, into a deep
pool, where it sends up a whispering voice, like
that which pervades a rustling audience when the
drop-curtain has shed its folds upon a scene that,
like the “Ancient Mariner,” has held each ear and
eye as with a magic spell. “You have been a wanderer in the world; so have
I. Wherever you have been, there have I been,
also. I have been near you a thousand times
when you little guessed it. But all that is passed.
The time has arrived. Enclosed among these
papers you will find that which will make you
independent of the world. The property is mostly
yours; but you are not alone; there are those who
will be dependent upon you; fail not to do your
duty by them — love them as you should love those
nearest and dearest to you. This letter is only to
prepare you for the perusal of others of deeper
importance; you will find them all at your command,
and as you read them, O, curse me not!
but weep that humanity should fall so far; then
pray that God may cleanse the blood-stained soul,
and forgive, (yes, Paul, it is true!) your dying
father! | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 4 | Author: | Rowson
Mrs.
1762-1824 | Add | | | Title: | The inquisitor, or, Invisible rambler | | | | 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 Should like to know the certainty of it, said I,
putting the petition into my pocket.—It contained
an account of an unfortunate tradesman reduced to
want, with a wife and three small children.—He asked
not charity for himself, but them.—I should like
to know the certainty of it, said I—there are so many
feigned tales of distress, and the world is so full
of duplicity, that in following the dictates of humanity
we often encourage idleness.—Could I but be
satisfied of the authenticity of this man's story, I
would do something for him. Poor fellow! said I, looking at him with an
eye of compassion as he went out of the apartment
—Poor fellow! thou hast been hardly used by one
man who called himself a Christian, and it makes
thee suspect the whole race—But, surely, said I, it is
not a man's barely prosessing Christianity that makes
him worthy that character; a man must behave
with humanity, not only to his fellow-creatures, but
to the animal creation, before he can be ranked with
propriety among that exalted class of mortals. It was on a fine evening, the latter end of May,
when tired with the fatigues of the day, for she was
a milliner's apprentice, Annie obtained leave of her
mistress to walk out for a little air.—Her mistress
had a shop which she occupied, and frequently visited
during the summer season, situated on the banks
of the Thames. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 11 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Add | | | Title: | The damsel of Darien | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | “Nothing,” remarks a distinguished modern writer of
our own country, “could be more chivalrous, urbane and
charitable; nothing more pregnant with noble sacrifices of
passion and interest, with magnanimous instances of forgiveness
of injuries, and noble contests of generosity, than
the transactions of the Spanish discoverers of America with
each other:—” he adds—“it was with the Indians alone
that they were vindictive, blood-thirsty, and implacable.”
In other words, when dealing with their equals—with those
who could strike hard and avenge,—they forbore offence
and injury; to the feeble and unoffending, alone, they
were cruel and unforgiving. Such being the case, according
to the writer's own showing, the eulogium upon
their chivalry, charity, and urbanity, is in very doubtful
propriety, coming from the lips of a Christian historian;
and our charity would be as singularly misplaced as his,
were we to suffer its utterance unquestioned. But the
alleged characteristics of these Spanish adventurers in regard
to their dealings with each other, are any thing but
true, according to our readings of history; and with all
deference to the urbane and usually excellent authority referred
to, we must be permitted, in this place, to record
our dissent from his conclusions. It will not diminish,
perhaps, but rather elevate the character of these discoverers,
to show that their transactions with each other were, with
a few generous exceptions, distinguished by a baseness and
vindictiveness quite as shameless and unequivocal as marked
their treatment of the Indians:—that nearly every departure
from their usual faithlessness of conduct, was induced by
fear, by favour, or the hope of ultimate reward;—that, devouring
the Indians for their treasure, they scrupled not to
exhibit a like rapacity towards their own comrades, in its
attainment, or upon its division; and that, in short, a more
inhuman, faithless, blood-thirsty and unmitigated gang of
savages never yet dishonoured the name of man or debased
his nature. The very volume which contains the eulogy
upon which we comment—Irving's “Companions of Columbus,”—a
misnomer, by the way, since none of them
were, or could be, properly speaking, his companions—
abounds in testimonies which refute and falsify it. The
history of these “companions” is a history of crime and
perfidy from the beginning; of professions made without
sincerity, and pledges violated without scruple; of crimes
committed without hesitation, and, seemingly, without remorse;
of frauds perpetrated upon the confiding, and injuries
inflicted without number upon the defenceless; and
these, too, not in their dealings merely with the natives,
for these they only destroyed, but in their intercourse with
their own comrades; with those countrymen to whom
nature and a common interest should have bound them, to
the fullest extent of their best abilities and strongest sympathies;
but whom they did not scruple to plunder and
abuse, at the instance of motives the most mercenary and
dishonourable. With but a few, and those not very remarkable
exceptions, all the doings of this “ocean chivalry”
are obnoxious to these reproaches. It is enough, in
proof, to instance the fortunes of Cortes, Ojeda, Ponce de
Leon, Balboa, Nienesa, Pizarro, Almagro, and the “great
admiral” himself; most of them hostile to each other, and
all of them victims to the slavish, selfish hates and festering
jealousies, the base avarice, and scarcely less base ambition
of the followers whom they led to wealth, and victory,
and fame. Like most fanatics, who are generally the
creatures of vexing and variable moods, rather than of principle
and a just desire for renown, none of them, with the
single exception of Columbus, seem to have been above
the force of circumstances, which moved them hourly, as
easily to a disregard of right, as to a fearlessness of danger.
At such periods they invariably proved themselves indifferent
to all the ties of country, to all the sentiments of
affection, to all the laws of God: a mere blood-thirsty soldiery,
drunk with the frequent indulgence of a morbid appetite,
and as utterly indifferent, in their frenzy, to their
sworn fellowships as to the common cause. Of the whole
chivalry of this period and nation, but little that is favourable
can be said. That they were brave and fearless, daring
and elastic, cannot be denied. But here eulogium must
cease. From the bigot monarch upon the throne, to the
lowest soldier serving under his banner, they seem all to
have been without faith. The sovereign had no scruple,
when interest moved him and occasion served, to break the
pledges which he might not so easily evade; and the morals
of his people furnished no reproachful commentary upon
the laxity of his own. Let us but once close our eyes
upon the bold deeds and uncalculating courage of these
warriors, and the picture of their performances becomes
one loaded with infamy and shame. The mind revolts
from the loathsome spectacle of perfidy and brute-baseness
which every where remains; and it is even a relief, though
but a momentary one, once more to look upon the scene of
strife, and forget, as we are but too apt to do, in the gallant
passage of arms, the meanness and the malice of him who
delights us with his froward valour, and astounds us with
admiration of his skill and strength. The relief is but
transient, however, and the next moment reveals to us a reenactment
of the sin and the shame, from which the bravest
and the boldest among them could not long maintain the
“whiteness of their souls.” | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 12 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Add | | | Title: | The damsel of Darien | | | | 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: | With the first beams of the morning sun, the Indian
warriors of Zemaco, a wild and motly armament, prepared
to descend from the mountains into the plain, or
rather valley, in which lay the Spanish settlement of Darien.
More than five thousand men, detachments from a
hundred tribes, which acknowledged the sovereignty of
Zemaco, were assembled under the lead of this vindictive
chief. They gathered at his summons from the province
of Zobayda, where the golden temple of their worship
stood, and which they esteemed to be the visible dwelling
of their God; Abibeyba, Zenu, and many other provinces,
the several cassiques of which, though not present with
the quotas which they provided, were yet required by
Zemaco to hold themselves in readiness to defend their
territories from the incursions of the Spaniards. The
hills that rose on three sides of the Spanish settlement
were darkened with savage warriors. Exulting in the
certainty of victory, they brandished their macanas of
palm wood, and shot their arrows upward in defiance,
while they sounded their war conchs for the general gathering.
Never, in his whole career of sway and conquest,
had the proud mountain chief at one time, assembled
so vast a host. Their numbers, their known valour,
the great strength of their bodies, and the admirable skill
with which they swung aloft the club or sent the arrow
to its mark, filled his bosom with a vain confidence in his
own superiority, which the better taught Caonabo earnestly
endeavoured to qualify and caution. But his counsels
fell upon unwilling ears, and it was soon apparent to
the latter that the prudence which he commended had the
effect of diminishing his own courage in the estimation of
his hearers. Once assured of this, the mortified Caonabo
sank back to his little command, patiently resolved to
await events, and remove any doubts on this head, of the
Cassique of Darien, by the actual proofs of his prowess,
which he was determined to display upon the field. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 13 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Add | | | Title: | Border beagles | | | | 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 little town of Raymond, in the state of Mississippi,
was in the utmost commotion. Court-day
was at hand, and nothing was to be heard but the
hum of preparation for that most important of all
days in the history of a country village—that of
general muster alone excepted. Strange faces and
strange dresses began to show themselves in the
main street; lawyers were entering from all quarters—“saddlebag”
and “sulky” lawyers—men who
cumber themselves with no weight of law, unless it
can be contained in moderately-sized heads, or valise,
or saddle-bag, of equally moderate dimensions.
Prowling sheriff's officers began to show their hands
again, after a ten or twenty days' absence in the surrounding
country, where they had gone to the great
annoyance of simple farmers, who contract large
debts to the shop-keeper on the strength of crops yet
to be planted, which are thus wasted on changeable
silks for the spouse, and whistle-handled whips for
“Young Hopeful” the only son and heir to possession,
which, in no long time will be heard best of
under the auctioneer's hammer. The population of
the village was increasing rapidly; and what with the
sharp militia colonel, in his new box coat, squab
white hat, trim collar and high-heeled boots, seeking
to find favour in the regiment against the next election
for supplying the brigadier's vacancy; the
swaggering planter to whom certain disquieting hints
of foreclosure have been given, which he can evade
no longer, and which he must settle as he may; the
slashing overseer, prime for cockfight or quarterrace,
and not unwilling to try his own prowess upon
his neighbour, should occasion serve and all other
sports fail; the pleading and impleaded, prosecutor
and prosecuted, witnesses and victims,—Raymond
never promised more than at present to swell beyond
all seasonable boundaries, and make a noise in
the little world round it. Court-day is a day to remember
in the West, either for the parts witnessed
or the parts taken in the various performances; and
whether the party be the loser of an eye or ear, or
has merely helped another to the loss of both, the
case is still pretty much the same; the event is not
usually forgotten. The inference was fair that there
would be a great deal of this sort of prime brutality
performed at the present time. Among the crowd
might be seen certain men who had already distinguished
themselves after this manner, and who strutted
and swaggered from pillar to post, as if conscious
that the eyes of many were upon them, either in scorn
or admiration. Notoriety is a sort of fame which
the vulgar mind essentially enjoys beyond any other;
and we are continually reminded, while in the crowd,
of the fellow in the play, who says he “loves to be
contemptible.” Some of these creatures had lost an
eye, some an ear, others had their faces scarred
with the strokes of knives; and a close inspection of
others might have shown certain tokens about their
necks, which testified to bloody ground fights, in
which their gullets formed an acquaintance with the
enemy's teeth, not over-well calculated to make
them desire new terms of familiarity. Perhaps, in
most cases, these wretches had only been saved
from just punishment by the humane intervention of
the spectators—a humanity that is too often warmed
into volition, only when the proprietor grows sated
with the sport. At one moment the main street in
Raymond was absolutely choked by the press of
conflicting vehicles. Judge Bunkell's sulky hitched
wheels with the carriage of Col. Fishhawk, and
squire Dickens' bran new barouche, brought up from
Orleans only a week before, was “staved all to
flinders”—so said our landlady—“agin the corner
of Joe Richards' stable.” The 'squire himself narrowly
escaped the very last injury in the power of a
fourfooted beast to inflict, that is disposed to use his
hoofs heartily—and, bating an abrasion of the left
nostril, which diminished the size, if it did not, as
was the opinion of many, impair the beauty of the
member, Dickens had good reason to congratulate
himself at getting off with so little personal damage.
These, however, were not the only mishaps on this
occasion. There were other stories of broken heads,
maims and injuries, but whether they grew out of
the unavoidable concussion of a large crowd in a
small place, or from a great natural tendency to broken
heads on the part of the owners, it scarcely falls
within our present purpose to inquire. A jostle in a
roomy region like the west, is any thing but a jostle
in the streets of New York. There you may tilt
the wayfarer into the gutter, and the laugh is
against the loser, it being a sufficient apology for
taking such a liberty with your neighbour's person,
that “business is business, and must be attended to.”
Every man must take care of himself and learn to
push with the rest, where all are in a hurry. But
he brooks the stab who jostles his neighbour where
there is no such excuse; and the stab is certain
where he presumes so far with his neighbour's wife,
or his wife's daughter, or his sister. There's no
pleading that the city rule is to “take the right hand”
—he will let you know that the proper rule is to give
way to the weak and feeble—to women, to age, to
infancy. This is the manly rule among the strong,
and a violation of it brings due punishment in the
west. Jostling there is a dangerous experiment, and
for this very reason, it is frequently practised by
those who love a row and fear no danger. It is one
of the thousand modes resorted to for compelling
the fight of fun—the conflict which the rowdy seeks
from the mere love of tumult, and in the excess of
overheated blood. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 14 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Add | | | Title: | Border beagles | | | | 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 hour was late when the strong-minded
maiden, Rachel Morrison, reached her apartments.
The family, guests and all, had retired to their
several chambers for the night; and in the silent review
which she made of the scene she had just witnessed,
a most annoying conviction rose in her
mind of the probable danger awaiting the young traveller,
Vernon, who, she knew, had appointed to resume
his journey on the morrow. She recollected
the promise of one of the robbers (Saxon) to join
him on the road; and this promise she naturally construed
into a resolution to assail him. To warn him
of his danger was her first impulse, but how was
this to be done? It was impossible that she should
seek him then; it was scarcely proper, indeed, that
she should seek him at any time, and to communicate
her warning to Walter Rawlins—the most easy
and natural mode—was to prompt his inquiries into
other particulars of her knowledge, which she was
not yet prepared to unfold. She dreaded the prying
mind of her lover, and doubted her own strength to
refuse him that knowledge which was effectually to
blast and destroy the son of her protector. The conflict
in her mind kept her wakeful, and at the dawn
of day she was dressed, and anxiously on the watch
for that stir in the household which might denote the
preparations of the traveller. To her great joy she
heard footsteps in the adjoining passage, which she
knew to be those of Rawlins. She went forth and
joined him. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 15 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Add | | | Title: | The kinsmen, or, The black riders of Congaree | | | | 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 colonies of North America, united in resistance to
the mother country, had now closed the fifth year of their
war of independence. The scene of conflict was now
almost wholly transferred from the northern to the southern
colonies. The former were permitted a partial repose,
while the latter, as if to compensate for a three years' respite,
were subjected to the worst aspects and usages of
war. Georgia and South Carolina were supposed by
the British commanders to be entirely recovered to the
sway of their master. They suffered, in consequence, the
usual fortune of the vanquished. But the very suffering
proved that they lived, and the struggle for freedom was
continued. Her battles,
“Once begun,
Bequeathed from bleeding sire to son,
Though often lost,”
were never considered by her friends in Carolina to be
utterly hopeless. Still, they had frequent occasion to despair.
Gates, the successful commander at Saratoga, upon
whose great renown and feeble army the hopes of the
south, for a season, appeared wholly to depend, had suffered
a terrible defeat at Camden—his militia scattered to
the four winds of Heaven—his regulars almost annihilated
in a conflict with thrice their number, which, for fierce
encounter and determined resolution, has never been surpassed;—while
he, himself, a fugitive, covered with shame
and disappointment, vainly hung out his tattered banner in
the wilds of North Carolina—a colony sunk into an apathy
which as effectually paralysed her exertions, as did the
presence of superior power paralyse those of her more
suffering sisters. Conscious of indiscretion and a most
fatal presumption—the punishment of which had been as
sudden as it was severe—the defeated general suffered far
less from apprehension of his foes, than of his country.
He had madly risked her strength, at a perilous moment,
in a pitched battle, for which he had made no preparation
—in which he had shown neither resolution nor ability.
The laurels of his old renown withered in an instant—his
reputation was stained with doubt, if not with dishonour.
He stood, anxious and desponding, awaiting, with whatever
moral strength he could command, the summons to that
tribunal of his peers, upon which depended all the remaining
honours of his venerable head. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 16 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Add | | | Title: | The kinsmen, or, The black riders of Congaree | | | | 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 omitted, in the proper place, to record certain
events that happened, during the progress of the
conflict, in order that nothing should retard the narrative
of that event. But, ere it had reached its termination,
and while its results were in some measure doubtful, a
new party came upon the scene, who deserves our attention
and commanded that of the faithful woodman. A
cry—a soft but piercing cry—unheard by either of the
combatants, first drew the eye of the former to the neighbouring
wood from which it issued; and simultaneously,
a slender form darted out of the cover, and hurried forward
in the direction of the strife. Bannister immediately
put himself in readiness to prevent any interference between
the parties; and, when he saw the stranger pushing
forward, and wielding a glittering weapon in his
grasp, as he advanced, he rushed from his own concealment,
and threw himself directly in the pathway of the
intruder. The stranger recoiled for an instant, while
Bannister commanded him to stand. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 17 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Add | | | Title: | The prima donna | | | | 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 had changed my lodgings, seeking shelter in the suburbs, from
the crowd and confusion of Broadway and the Park. The omnibus,
at a shilling a ride, enabled me, while enjoying a seclusion
akin to that of country life, to seek the city at any moment when
pleasure or business called me thither. The second morning after
my transition, I suffered myself to look round upon my new
neighbourhood. I found myself in very good quarters for a
single man. Our house was well arranged and spacious. It
stood apart from all others, while, on either hand, the green of a
well-stored vegetable garden gratified the eye, and the breezes
from two quarters of the compass poured in at my windows. We
were just in advance of the onward march of city improvements.
Our pavements were incomplete, and the clang and clamour of
cart, cab and carriage, were moderate accordingly, when compared
with the stunning sounds with which they momently assailed
me in Broadway. But, as if to qualify this advantage,
there was just opposite, one of those annoyances which are to be
found in the suburbs of every large city, in the shape of a cluster
of low, crowded and filthy looking rookeries,—a nest of wooden
structures, dingy, dark, narrow, and tumbling to decay, which
still, however, gave shelter to a crowd of inmates. Every tenement
of this nest, was filled from basement to attic;—the people
were of the very poorest, and some of them, evidently, of the
most dissolute, character. Rags and dirt were the conspicuous
badges at every window, and no prospect could be more melancholy
than that of the poor, puny, little children, who were
despatched from rise of morn to set of sun, to glean, as beggars,
from better furnished portions of the city, their daily supplies of
pennies and “cold victuals.” | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 18 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Add | | | Title: | Count Julian, or, The last days of the Goth | | | | 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 is in the mouths of many that Julian left his daughter, Cava, at the court of
king Roderick, as he well knew the surpassing beauty of her charms, and as well
the fierce passion of the king for such loveliness as hers. That he hath not erred
in his expectations, is no less the rumor of the court. Cava, it is said, hath been
distinguished by the king's eye; and the bruit is, that, though she hath lost in virtue,
yet will the gain of Julian in high station be proportionate to her loss and great
beyond his desire. Yet, though this be the speech of many who have integrity and
speak not often idly, there are some who remember of the noble blood and proper
pride of the Julian family, who, though they cannot gainsay the tidings of king
Roderick's favor and of the frailty of the lady Cava, are yet unwilling to yield faith
so readily to that which reports the willing pliance of Julian to his own dishonor.
One of these, in his sorrow and his doubt, hath written these presents. He asks
not for reply, since the deeds of the father, hereafter to be shown, will testify how
far he hath been a party to the ruin of his child.” “Egiza—my lord, that should have been, had our hopes been blessed—farewell,
farewell for ever. Hold me as one dead to thee, even if I be not dead to life. There
is an impassable gulf between us. I cannot love thee, last I should debase thee
by affections which can never more be hallowed. I cannot keep thy love, since such
cannot belong or be given to those who are degraded. I cannot look upon thee, even
if I live, since I feel my shame, and should dread to meet with favor in thy eyes.
Yet, for the love which thou didst bear me, give me thy pity now; let thy prayers
go up for one who has not so much sinned as suffered sin—whose weakness of body,
not whose willingness of mind, has given her up—a most unhappy woman—to the
brutal rage of a tyrant. I can speak no more. My cheeks, which have been cold
and pale, like the unfeeling marble, now burn me as I write thee. I dare not say
what I have suffered—thou wilt scarce dare to conceive it. Yet, think only that I
I am lost to thee, to hope, to life, to myself, for ever, for ever, and thou wilt know
cannot tell thee. Once more, my lord—my noble lord—once more I implore thy
pity and thy prayers for the wretched | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 19 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Add | | | Title: | Helen Halsey, or, The Swamp state of Conelachita | | | | 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 unwise license and injurious freedoms accorded
to youth in our day and country, will render
it unnecessary to explain how it was that,
with father and mother, a good homestead, and
excellent resources, I was yet suffered at the
early age of eighteen, to set out on a desultory
and almost purposeless expedition, among some
of the wildest regions of the South-West. It
would be as unnecessary and, perhaps, much
more difficult, to show what were my own motives
in undertaking such a journey. A truant
disposition, a love of adventure, or, possibly, the
stray glances of some forest maiden, may all be
assumed as good and sufficient reasons, to set a
warm heart wandering, and provoke wild impulses
in the blood of one, by nature impetuous
enough, and, by education, very much the master
of his own will. With a proud heart, hopeful of all
things if thoughtless of any, as noble a steed as
ever shook a sable mane over a sunny prairie, and
enough money, liberally calculated, to permit an
occasional extravagance, whether in excess or
charity, I set out one sunny winter's morning
from Leaside, our family place, carrying with me
the tearful blessings of my mother, and as kind a
farewell from my father, as could decently comport
with the undisguised displeasure with which
he had encountered the first expression of my
wish to go abroad. Well might he disapprove
of a determination which was so utterly without
an object. But our discussion on this point need
not be resumed. Enough, that, if “my path was
all before me,” I was utterly without a guide.
It was, besides, my purpose to go where there
were few if any paths; regions as wild as they
were pathless; among strange tribes and races;
about whose erring and impulsive natures we
now and then heard such tales of terror, and of
wonder, as carried us back to the most venerable
periods of feudal history, and seemed to promise
us a full return and realization of their strangest
and saddest legends. Of stories such as these,
the boy sees only the wild and picturesque as
pects,—such as are beautiful with a startling
beauty—such as impress his imagination rather
than his thoughts, and presenting the truth to his
eyes through the medium of his fancies, divest it
of whatever is coarse, or cold, or cruel, in its
composition. It was thus that I had heard of
these things, and thus that, instead of repelling, as
they would have done, robbed of that charm of
distance which equally beautifies in the moral as
in the natural world, they invited my footsteps,
and seduced me from the more appropriate domestic
world in which my lot had been cast. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 20 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Add | | | Title: | Father Abbot, or, The home tourist | | | | 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 members of the Monastery—our merry
Monks of the Moon—had accomplished a third
rubber of whist, when it was perceptible that a
general cloud of gravity—it would be irreverent
to call it dulness—had fallen upon the assembly.
Our excellent Father Abbot himself was detected
in a most expansive yawn, showing an extremity
of condition such as had never befallen him before.
We had our Jester, but he failed, in a laboured
effort, to provoke the merriment of the order at
the expense of our venerable head; and we were
fast sinking into that state of collapse, which betokens
dissolution and departure in social as in
human bodies, when our excellent Father Abbot
startled the brotherhood into sudden vitality, by
an exclamation as unnatural in his case as it was
uncongenial with the faith professed by the fraternity. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
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