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UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 (47)
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University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875[X]
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1Author:  Bird Robert Montgomery 1806-1854Add
 Title:  The Hawks of Hawk-hollow  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: It has been seen how the rejoicings at the promontory were interrupted in their very beginning, by the sudden discovery of the refugee, so Drad for his derring-doe and bloody deed, that his mere name had thrown all present into confusion. The crowning climax was put to the general panic, when some of the late pursuers were seen returning, early in the afternoon, whipping and spurring with all the zeal of fear, and scattering such intelligence along the way as put to flight the last resolution of the jubilants. The news immediately spread, that Oran Gilbert had burst into existence, not alone, but with a countless host of armed men at his heels; that he had attacked and routed the pursuers, hanging all whom he took alive, especially the soldiers; and that he was now, in the frenzy of triumph, marching against the devoted Hillborough, with the resolution of burning it to the ground. Such dreadful intelligence was enough to complete the terror of the revellers; they fled amain—and long before night, the flag waved, and the little piece of ordnance frowned in utter solitude on the top of the deserted head-land. It is true that there came, by and by, couriers with happier news, but too late to arrest the fugitives; and as these riders made their way towards the village, expressing some anxiety lest it should be attacked, they rather confirmed than dispelled the fears of the few inhabitants of the valley. From one of the coolest and boldest, Captain Loring, who fastened on him at the park-gate, learned that there had been no action indeed, and that the fugitive had made his escape; but, on the other hand, it appeared that there were refugees in the land,— that they had hanged a soldier named Parker, and made good their retreat from the place of execution—that the greatest doubt existed among the pursuers in relation to the route they had taken and the objects they had in view, some believing, on the evidence of a certain quaker, who had been their prisoner, that they were marching by secret paths against the village, while others insisted that this was a feint designed only to throw the hunters off the scent, and to secure their escape,—that, in consequence, the party had divided, pursuing the search in all directions, in the hope of discovering their route,—and, finally, that it was now certain, the band, whose number was supposed to be very considerable, was really commanded by the notorious Oran Gilbert. From this man also, Captain Loring learned a few vague particulars in relation to the two greatest objects of his interest, namely Henry Falconer and the young painter, who had fallen into a quarrel in consequence of some misunderstanding about their horses, the officer having used harsh language not only in regard to the unceremonious seizure by Herman of his own steed, but in reference to a similar liberty the refugee had previously taken with the painter's, which, Falconer averred, was an evidence of intimacy and intercourse betwixt Mr. Hunter and the outlaw it behooved the former to explain, before thrusting himself into the company of honest men and gentlemen. This quarrel, it seemed, had been allayed by the interference of Falconer's brother officers; and the informant had heard something said of a proposal to drown the feud in a bowl. As for the man of peace, Ephraim, it appeared, that his spirited assistance during the chase, and especially his success in exposing the secret haunt of the tories in the Terrapin Hole, the scene of Parker's execution, had not only removed all suspicion in relation to his character, but had highly recommended him to the favour of his late captors.
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2Author:  Bird Robert Montgomery 1806-1854Add
 Title:  Peter Pilgrim, Or, a Rambler's Recollections  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
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3Author:  Brown Charles Brockden 1771-1810Add
 Title:  Edgar Huntly, Or, Memoirs of a Sleep-walker  
 Published:  2005 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: I sit down, my friend, to comply with thy request. At length does the impetuosity of my fears, the transports of my wonder permit me to recollect my promise and perform it. At length am I somewhat delivered from suspence and from tremors. At length the drama is brought to an imperfect close, and the series of events, that absorbed my faculties, that hurried away my attention, has terminated in repose.
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4Author:  Child Lydia Maria Francis 1802-1880Add
 Title:  The Rebels, Or, Boston Before the Revolution  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: There was hurrying to and fro through the principal streets of Boston on the night of the 14th of August, 1765. A brilliant bonfire was blazing on Fort Hill. Column after column of light died away to rise again with redoubled grandeur, and at each succeeding burst of flame, the loud shouts of the rabble were heard with dreadful distinctness. “A friend of mine, who has lately returned to England, accidentally mentioned meeting Miss Fitzherbert at your house. May I ask who this Miss Fitzherbert is? I have been in my native country but a short time, —I am a bachelor,—and my health is exceedingly precarious. It is therefore important that I should know her history and connexions immediately. “Lieutenant-Governor, Member of the Council, Commander of the Castle, Judge of Probate, and Chief Justice of the Supreme Court! you are hereby commanded to appear under the Liberty-tree within one hour, to plight your faith, that you will use no more influence against an injured and an exasperated people. “I hardly know how to account for the diffidence I feel in addressing you. The usual exaggerated language of affection would, I well know, appear ridiculous to you; and coldness or reserve is but ill suited to the present state of my feelings. The declaration that I have been for years most sincerely and devotedly attached to you, may not perhaps be entirely unexpected; and I once hoped it would not be entirely disagreeable. You do not owe your influence over me to a sudden freak of fancy; it results from a long and intimate knowledge of your character. Yet I will not flatter you, by saying I consider you faultless;—on the contrary, I think you have defects, which may prove very dangerous to yourself and friends, unless timely corrected. But I cannot imagine a character more elevated than might be formed from a mind so vigorous, and a heart so generous and candid as yours. “I have only time before this vessel sails, to tell you, that the important papers,—certificate of marriage, birth, &c., came duly to hand. Evidence is ample and satisfactory. There is no doubt that your father was my dear, but very headstrong nephew,—though your miniature shows not a shadow of family likeness. I rejoice to see by your letter, that you have been educated as a Fitzherbert should be. As a trifling acknowledgement of this kindness, present the articles that accompany this, to Governor Hutchinson and his sister. A voyage at this season would be cold and dangerous, but as soon as the spring opens, you must make for England. “This flower, pure and beautiful as yourself, was purchased for you. Will you accept it from your faithful lover? Will you cherish it for his sake, during the tedious absence to which he is doomed? “Here I am, in the favoured land of the brave, the intelligent, and the free. Yet even while I now repeat it, I scarcely credit it. I feel as if I were walking in my sleep; and it is only when I look out upon the princely buildings around me, that I can realize I am indeed in London. Our voyage was very pleasant, with the exception of sea-sickness. That, however, is a tax we must all pay to lord Neptune for rocking us in his cradle somewhat too roughly. (Pardon me. I forget that the odious word tax is banished from the American vocabulary.) “We last week received your long and affectionate letter. I was delighted, but not dazzled, with your picture of London. I love my own quiet chamber better than I should marble saloons or Corinthian piazzas. Yet our humble mansion has been sad enough since you left us. My father's health fails daily; and long, long before you return to us, Lucretia, I fear the dear venerable old man will have gone to his last home. It grieves me to think of it. Yet why should they whose lives have been stainless, and their purposes all holy, shrink from the hand that enrobes them with immortality. Young as I am, there are times when I would lay down my weary, aching head, and sleep, never more to wake in this cold world, as cheerfully as the tired infant presses the soft pillow of its cradle. “My dear Child, “I delivered your letters according to their directions; and I do not hesitate to say that the general opinion here is entirely in favour of your views. It is, however, very difficult to ascertain what course will be taken, for never was there such a heterogeneous, unintelligible mass as the present ministry. They are made up of the shreds and patches of all political opinions,—a confused jumble of every shade and hue of whiggism. “How very seldom you write; and how wo-begone are your epistles. Do not think me heartless with regard to your father's sickness. Indeed, I have felt most keenly for you and for him; but I have not the least doubt that the fine, clear climate of Canada will restore him; and even if the event should be the worst that we can fear, you must not thus mourn away your young existence. When you wrote last, you were just on the point of starting for Montreal; and I assure you I envied you the excursion. I wish I could have visited Gertrude before I came to England. Not only because I loved her more than I ever loved any one in so short a time; but I am really ashamed when asked about Niagara and the Lakes, to say that I have never seen them. People here are not aware how very unusual it is for American ladies to go out of sight of their own chimnies; and as for space, they do not seem to imagine there is such a thing on the other side of the Atlantic. They would ask a Vermontese about the Blue Ridge, or a Georgian about Niagara, as readily as I should question a Londoner about St. Paul's, or beg a description of Snowdon from a Welchman born and bred within sight of its cloud-kissing peak. “I found your letter dated November 15th, waiting our arrival, when we returned from Canada. Gertrude and I wrote you a crowded epistle last autumn; I wonder you had not received it before you wrote. She is very happy. Indeed her affectionate heart deserves it. Had she been a sister in very truth, she could not have loved me more, or been more kindly attentive to my father. “I last week received a package from Boston, containing letters from uncle Hutchinson, Grace Osborne, and yourself. “How mutable are all human prospects! My last lines were written on the 14th; and uncle Fitzherbert was then in fine health, and animated to a remarkable degree. On the night of the 15th, he was suddenly attacked by violent convulsions. The fits continued with increasing power until the third day,—when, with anguish that cannot be described, I saw the only relative I had on earth stretched on the bed of death. I have never before seen Mrs. Edgarton subdued by emotion; but now I am obliged to exert all my fortitude to support her. Alas! I shall never again be idolized as I was by that dear old gentleman. He seemed to consider me the prop of his house,—the stay and support of his age. Why did my heart ever accuse him of coldness and formality? “Silly Girl, “If the frank avowal that you are still very dear to my widowed heart, requires any apology, let approaching death be my excuse. “It is long since I have written to you,—longer than I once thought it ever would be; but heart-trying scenes prevented it, after my return from England; and when their bitterness had passed away, I was too much depressed to make any mental exertion. “Much respected Madam,
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5Author:  Child Lydia Maria Francis 1802-1880Add
 Title:  The coronal  
 Published:  1998 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
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6Author:  Clark Willis Gaylord 1808-1841Add
 Title:  The literary remains of the late Willis Gaylord Clark  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: `I have not sooner replied to your letter of the eighteenth of June, communicating the intelligence of the untimely death of your brother, because in fact I was at a loss how to reply. It is one of those cases in which all ordinary attempts at consolation are apt to appear trite and cold, and can never reach the deep-seated affliction. In such cases, it always appears to me better to leave the heart to struggle with its own sorrows, and medicine its own ills; and indeed, in healthful minds, as in healthful bodies, Providence has beneficently implanted self-healing qualities, that in time close up and almost obliterate the deepest wounds. `Of the several excellent writers whose names we have placed upon our catalogue as worthy of the honor we intend to do them (a series of portraits of popular Philadelphia authors, accompanied by suitable notices of their lives and works,) the first we select is that of Willis Gaylord Clark, whose rare abilities as a poet, and whose qualities as a man, justify this distinction. The life of a student is usually, almost necessarily, indeed, uneventful. Disinclined by habit and association, and generally unfitted by temperament, to mingle in the ruder scenes, the shocks and conflicts that mark the periods of sterner existence, his biography furnishes but few salient points upon which an inquirer can take hold. In the little circle which his affections have gathered around him, he finds abundant sources of enjoyment and interest; and though the world without may ring with his name, he pursues his quiet and peaceful way, undisturbed by, if not insensible to, its praises. Such has been eminently the case with the subject of this notice. With feelings peculiarly fitted for social and domestic intercourse, and a heart overflowing with the warmest and most generous impulses; and a shrinking sensitiveness to obtrusive public regard, Mr. Clark has always sought those scenes in which, while his talents found free scope, his native modesty was unwounded, and he could exercise without restraint the Joftier charities of his nature. `With the exception of a small volume published some years since, we believe that Mr. Clark's effusions have not been collected. They have appeared at irregular and often remote intervals; and though their beauty and pathos have won the applause of the first writers of this country and England, they have not made that impression which if united they could not fail to produce. Mr. Clark's distinguishing traits are tenderness, pathos, and melody. In style and sentiment he is wholly original, but if he resemble any writer, it is Mr. Bryant. The same lofty tone of sentiment, the same touches of melting pathos, the same refined sympathies with the beauties and harmonies of nature, and the same melody of style, characterise, in an almost equal degree, these delightful poets. The ordinary tone of Mr. Clark's poetry is gentle, solemn, and tender. Ilis effusions flow in melody from a heart full of the sweetest affections, and upon their surface is mirrored all that is gentle and beautiful in nature, rendered more beautiful by the light of a lofty and religious imagination. He is one of the few writers who have succeeded in making the poetry of religion attractive. Young is sad, and austere, Cowper is at times constrained, and Wordsworth is much too dreamy for the mass; but with Clark religion is unaffectedly blended with the simplest and sweetest affections of the heart. His poetry glitters with the dew, not of Castaly, but of heaven. No man, however cold, can resist the winning and natural sweetness and melody of the tone of piety that pervades his poems. All the voices of nature speak to him of religion; he `Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, Sermons in stones, and good in everything.' There is not an effusion, and scarce a line in his poetical writings that is not replete with this spirit. The entire absence of affectation or artifice in Mr. Clark's poetry also deserves the highest commendation. Though always poetical he is always natural; he sacrifices nothing for effect, and does not seek his subjects or his figures from the startling or the extravagant. There is an uniform and uninterrupted propriety in his writings. His taste is not merely cultivated and refined, but sensitively fastidious, and shrinks, with instinctive delicacy, from anything that could distort the tranquil and tender beauty of his lines. His diction is neither quaint nor common-place, bloated nor tame, but is natural, classic, and expressive. In the art of versification, he appears to be nearly perfect; we know no poet in the language who is more regular, animated, and euphonious. `Our brother is no more!' Death, the pale messenger, has beckoned him silently away; and the spirit which kindled with so many elevated thoughts; which explored the chambers of human affection, and awakened so many warm sympathies; which rejoiced with the glad, and grieved with the sorrowing, has ascended to mansions of eternal repose. And there is one, reader, who above all others feels how much gentleness of soul, how much fraternal affection and sincere friendship; how much joyous bilarity, goodness, poetry, have gone out of the world; and he will be pardoned for dwelling in these pages, so often enriched by the genius of the Departed, upon the closing scenes of his earthly career. Since nearly a twelve-month the deceased has `died daily' in the eyes of the writer of this feeble tribute. He saw that Disease sat at his heart, and was gnawing at its cruel leisure; that in the maturity of every power, in the earthly perfection of every faculty; `when experience had given facility to action and success to endeavor,' he was fast going down to darkness and the worm. Thenceforth were treasured up every soul-fraught epistle and the recollection of each recurring interview, growing more and more frequent, until at length Life like a spent steed `panted to its goal,' and Death sealed up the glazing eye and stilled the faltering tongue. Leaving these, however, with many other treasured remains and biographical facts for future reference and preservation in this Magazine, we pass to the following passages of a letter recently received from a late but true friend of the lamented deceased, Rev. Dr. Ducachet, Rector of St. Stephen's Church, Philadelphia; premising merely, that the reverend gentleman had previously called upon him at his special instance, in the last note he ever penned; that `his religious faith was manifested in a manner so solemn, so frank, and so cordial,' as to convince the affectionate pastor that the failing invalid, aware that he must die of the illness under which he was suffering, had long been seeking divine assistance to prepare him for the issue so near at hand: `He was, so far as his character revealed itself to me, a man of a most noble, frank, and generous nature. He was as humble as a little child. He exhibited throughout most remarkable patience. He never complained. But once, while I was on bended knees, praying with him for patience to be given him, and acknowledging that all he had suffered was for the best, he clasped his hands together, and exclaimed, `Yes! right, right—all right!' ... He was one of the most affectionate-hearted men I ever saw. Every moment I spent with him, he was doing or saying something to express to me his attachment. He would take my hand, or put his arm around my neck, or say something tender, to tell me that he loved me. He showed the same kind feeling to his attendants, his faithful nurse, Rebecca, and to the humblest of the servants.... He was of course, with such a heart, grateful for the smallest attentions. He received the most trifling office with thanks. I observed this most remarkably on the evening of his death. I had taken my son with me, that he might sit up with him on Saturday night, if occasion should require. When I mentioned that the youth was in the room, he called for him; welcomed him most kindly, thanked him over and over for his friendly intentions; and in fact, broke out into the warmest expressions of gratitude for what his sensitive and generous heart took to be a high act of favor. All this was within an hour and a half of his death.... Finally, I believe he was a truly religious man. I have no doubt that he was fully prepared for his end; and that through the sacrifice of the cross, and the Saviour who died there for sinners, he was pardoned and accepted. He has gone, I feel persuaded, to the abodes of peace, where the souls of those who sleep in the Lord Jesus enjoy perpetual felicity and rest.' Good Reader, let us have a talk together. Sit you down with benevolent optics, and a kindly heart, and I doubt not that we shall pass an hour right pleasantly, one with another. Pleasantly, in part, but in part it may be, sadly; for you know it is with conversation, as with life; it taketh various colors, and is changing evermore. So we will expect these changes, and meet them as they come. Sometimes we shall be in the cheerful vein, and at others, in that subjunctive mood which conquers the jest on the lip, and holds Humor in bonds. But for `gude or ill,' I shall desire you to sit with me. In the voices of Mirth, there may be excitement, but in the tones of Mourning there is consolation. Congregere in Pons Cayuguum, Februarius Sexdecim, nox media, pro jocus et exercitatio, et animi relaxatio. `Sithence that love, which is the lightest bird in the world, hath nestled in my bosom, it hath proved so full of egg, that I have been forced to suffer him to lay there. But sithence he hath laid it, he hath sate upon it a long tyme, and at length hath hatched this little pullet which I now send you. The breeding of it will cost you little; all the food it will require will be caresses and kisses. And withal, it is so well taught that it speaks better than a paraqueto, and so will tell you my sufferings for you. It hath in charge to inquire of you whether or no you are yet displeased with me, and to let me know your mind, not by a pullet so big as this, but by the least chicken you please, if I may have your favor; with this promise, that if you have laid aside your rigor, I shall send you no more pullets, but present you with full-grown birds, full of valor and affection. Will you allow me to correct a slight statement in your last, with reference to my death? I am grateful for the compliments to my character in your obituary notice, and I believe them deserved. That I tried to do the handsome thing while I lived, is most true; true, too, is it, that I never backed out of a fight, and never saw the man that could whip me, when alive; and I say the same yet, `being dead,' according to your story. But when you state, that I left my affairs unsettled, and my widow and those eleven children unprovided for, I have only to state, that you lie in your throat! I mean no offence in what I say; I speak in the aggregate sense of the term. Being a dead man, and printed down as such in your columns, I am incapable of mortal resentments; but I leave as my avengers, Cain, Abel, and Simpkins, printers and publishers of the Occidental Trumpet and Mississippi Battle-Axe. To the editor of that paper, I submit my fame. To his indomitable coolness, never yet ruffled by repeated contumely, and invulnerable to contempt, I confide my reputation: feeling certain that one who has never found satisfaction for an insult, (nor sought it indeed,) can fail to be a champion in my cause. That he may be in peril in my advocacy, is possible; but he knows how to shun it. He is independent, for he is unknown; he is fearless, for no man will touch a hair of his head. To that important Gulliven, in whatsoever cave or fastness he may dwell, I surrender my fame. I have had an interview with Mr. Biddle, and truly lament my inability to communicate satisfactory results. I fear that until the resolution of the Senator from Ohio, in regard to the repeal of the Treasury order, is finally disposed of, the trading interests will materially suffer. `I have seen a piece which you made and put into a perryoge published down into the city of New York, to which I am a-going to indict a reply. My indictment will be short, as some of the parties is not present to which you have been allusive. But with respect of that there diwine person you spoke of, I am sorry to remark, that he is uncommonly dead, and wont never give no more lectures. He was so onfortnight as to bu'st a blood-vessel at a pertracted meeting; and I han't hearn nothing onto him sence. His motives was probable good; but in delivering on 'em, it struck me forcibly that he proximoted to the sassy. However, I never reserves ill will, not ag'inst nobody; and I authorize you to put this into printing, ef'so be that you deem it useful. That's what Smith used to say, when he published his self-nominations in the newspapers, that a man with a horn (they tell me that he has a very large circle of kindred) used to ride post about and distribit. `I have taken your new hat, but I leave you my eternal gratitude. `It becomes our painful but imperative and extraordinary duty, to promulgate the facts of a disaster which reached us to-day, by the mail from Thebes, via the perpendicular railroad. As a party were ascending, with the locomotive playing a lively tune, assisted on the piana-forte by another locomotive, that had been hired by Signor Goitini, preparatory to his first concert in New-Babylon, some religious persons of the `United States' Established Mormon Church,' insisted that the tune, being irreverent, should be changed. This offensive tune was no less than the well known and popular song, (supposed to have been written in England, previous to the subjugation of that place by the Russians,) entitled `Proceed it, ye Crippled Ones, Babylon's Nigh.' This complimentary course on the part of the locomotive, and the gentlemanly engineer with whom it associates, was hissed by the Mormons, until they were overcome by the encores of the majority. The locomotive was of course embarrassed, but we understand, continued to play. One of the Mormons, enraged beyond measure at this circumstance, rushed forward through the door-ways of the train, and wantonly turned the stop-cock of `What's become of Good Old Daniel?' one of the slowest tunes of the day. The consequence was, that the train proceeded with the greatest discord, because the latter tune was for the backtrack, in descending the mountain. The result was, the cars were thrown off the rails, down a precipice of nearly three hundred feet; but owing to the exertions of Mr. Inclination Plain, first engineer, they were got back by his Upward Impulse Screw, which has thus far answered admirably, stopping cars in mid-air, if they run off a precipice, and returning them safely, by means of the patent steam wind-bags, which extend beneath the trains, and destroy their gravity. I met with a good article the other day in a native magazine, on the subject of whiskers—a pilosus and prolific theme. Talking of whiskers reminds me of cats. The transition is natural. Feline quadrupeds are justly celebrated for their claims to admiration in respect of whiskers. In the conformation of his mandibular appendages, Nature has been generous with the cat. Not only do they stand out from his face like the elongated mustaches of old Shah Abbas of Persia, but there is within them a sleepless spirit, a shrewd and far reaching sense, which puts to shame the similar ornaments on the faces of bipeds of the genus homo. They, indeed, can make their whiskers look well, by baptizing them with eau de Cologne, and Rowland's Macassar Oil, or peradventure, the unctuous matter won from the `tried reins' of defunct bears; but where is the intelligence, the discernment, of their rivals? Then I release my dear soul from her promise about today. If you do not see that all which he can claim by gratitude, I doubly claim by love, I have done, forever. I would purchase my happiness at any price but at the expense of yours. Look over my letters, think over my conduct, consult your own heart, read these two long letters of your own writing, which I return you. Then tell me whether we love or not. And if we love (as witness both our hearts), shall gratitude, cold gratitude, bear away the prize that's due to love like ours? Shall my right be acknowledged, and he possess the casket? Shall I have your soul, and he your hand, your lips, your eyes? Your two letters of the day before yesterday, and what you said to me yesterday, have drove me mad. You know how such tenderness distracts me. As to marrying me, that you should not do upon any account. Shall the man I value, be pointed at and hooted for selling himself to a lord for a commission? * * * My soul is above my situation. Beside, I will not take advantage of what may be only, perhaps, (excuse me), a youthful passion. After a more intimate acquaintance of a week or ten days, your opinion of me might very much change. And yet you may love me as sincerely as I— My Life and Soul! But I will never more use any more preface of this sort, and I beg you will not. A correspondence begins with dear, then my dear, dearest, my dearest, and so on, till, at last, panting language toils after us in vain. Let me give you joy of having found such kind and agreeable friends in a strange land. The account you gave me of the lady quite charmed me. Neither am I without my friends. A lady from whom I have received particular favors, is uncommonly kind to me. For the credit of your side of the water, she is an Irish woman. Her agreeable husband, by his beauty and accomplishments, does credit to this country. He is remarkable also for his feelings. When this reaches you I shall be no more, but do not let my unhappy fate distress you too much. I strove against it as long as possible, but now it overpowers me. You know where my affections were placed; my having by some means or other lost hers, (an idea which I could not support,) has driven me to madness. God bless-you , my dear F—. Would I had a sum of money to leave you to convince you of my great regard! May Heaven protect my beloved woman, and forgive the act which alone could relieve me from a world of misery I have long endured! Oh! should it be in your power to do her any act of friendship, I am alive, and she is dead. I shot her and not myself. Some of her blood is still upon my clothes. I dont ask you to speak to me. I don't ask you to look at me. Only come hither, and bring me a little poison; such as is strong enough. Upon my knees I beg, if your friendship for me ever was sincere, do, do bring me some poison!' If the murderer of Miss—wishes to live, the man he has most injured will use all his interest to procure his life.' `The murderer of her whom he preferred, far preferred, to life, suspects the hand from which he has just received such an offer as he neither desires nor deserves. His wishes are for death, not for life. One wish he has: Could he be pardoned in this world by the man he has most injured! Oh my lord, when I meet her in another world, enable me to tell her, (if departed spirits are not ignorant of earthly things,) that you forgive us both, and that you will be a father to her dear infants! I am gone to spend a fortnight, in a Christmas festival, with some friends in Virginia. I enclose a regular division of our joint funds. I have spoken to my uncle about our hotel bills here, and he will fix them. It is all understood. You can stay a fortnight if you like; though how you'll get back to Philadelphia, after that, the Lord only knows. Perhaps you may accomplish the transit without trouble: if so, I shall be, (as I was last night, when I thought I knew you,) mistaken. We do not know each other well, for we have been thwarted by the presence of untoward circumstances; but surely, my dear, my only John, the language of my eyes must have convinced you that since we first met, my heart has been wholly yours. Come to-morrow evening at eight, and in a walk of a few moments, I will convince you, if words can do it, of the unalterable affection of your devoted
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7Author:  Cooper James Fenimore 1789-1851Add
 Title:  Home as Found  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: When Mr. Effingham determined to return home, he sent orders to his agent to prepare his town-house in New-York for his reception, intending to pass a month or two in it, then to repair to Washington for a few weeks, at the close of its season, and to visit his country residence when the spring should fairly open. Accordingly, Eve now found herself at the head of one of the largest establishments, in the largest American town, within an hour after she had landed from the ship. Fortunately for her, however, her father was too just to consider a wife, or a daughter, a mere upper servant, and he rightly judged that a liberal portion of his income should be assigned to the procuring of that higher quality of domestic service, which can alone relieve the mistress of a household from a burthen so heavy to be borne. Unlike so many of those around him, who would spend on a single pretending and comfortless entertainment, in which the ostentatious folly of one contended with the ostentatious folly of another, a sum that, properly directed, would introduce order and system into a family for a twelvemonth, by commanding the time and knowledge of those whose study they had been, and who would be willing to devote themselves to such objects, and then permit their wives and daughters to return to the drudgery to which the sex seems doomed in this country, he first bethought him of the wants of social life before he aspired to its parade. A man of the world, Mr. Effingham possessed the requisite knowledge, and a man of justice, the requisite fairness, to permit those who depended on him so much for their happiness, to share equitably in the good things that Providence had so liberally bestowed on himself. In other words, he made two people comfortable, by paying a generous price for a housekeeper; his daughter, in the first place, by releasing her from cares that, necessarily, formed no more a part of her duties than it would be a part of her duty to sweep the pavement before the door; and, in the next place, a very respectable woman who was glad to obtain so good a home on so easy terms. To this simple and just expedient, Eve was indebted for being at the head of one of the quietest, most truly elegant, and best ordered establishments in America, with no other demands on her time than that which was necessary to issue a few orders in the morning, and to examine a few accounts once a week.
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8Author:  Cooper James Fenimore 1789-1851Add
 Title:  Home as Found  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: Though the affair of the Point continued to agitate the village of Templeton next day, and for many days, it was little remembered in the Wigwam. Confident of his right, Mr. Effingham, though naturally indignant at the abuse of his long liberality, through which alone the public had been permitted to frequent the place, and this too, quite often, to his own discomfort and disappointment, had dismissed the subject temporarily from his mind, and was already engaged in his ordinary pursuits. Not so, however, with Mr. Bragg. Agreeably to promise, he had attended the meeting; and now he seemed to regulate all his movements by a sort of mysterious self-importance, as if the repository of some secret of unusual consequence. No one regarded his manner, however; for Aristabulus, and his secrets, and opinions, were all of too little value, in the eyes of most of the party, to attract peculiar attention. He found a sympathetic listener in Mr. Dodge, happily; that person having been invited, through the courtesy of Mr. Effingham, to pass the day with those in whose company, though very unwillingly on the editor's part certainly, he had gone through so many dangerous trials. These two, then, soon became intimate, and to have seen their shrugs, significant whisperings, and frequent conferences in corners, one who did not know them, might have fancied their shoulders burthened with the weight of the state.
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9Author:  Cooper James Fenimore 1789-1851Add
 Title:  The Two Admirals  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: The events we are about to relate, occurred near the middle of the last century, previously even to that struggle, which it is the fashion of America to call “the old French War.” The opening scene of our tale, however, must be sought in the other hemisphere, and on the coast of the mother country. In the middle of the eighteenth century, the American colonies were models of loyalty; the very war, to which there has just been allusion, causing the great expenditure that induced the ministry to have recourse to the system of taxation, which terminated in the revolution. The family quarrel had not yet commenced. Intensely occupied with the conflict, which terminated not more gloriously for the British arms, than advantageously for the British American possessions, the inhabitants of the provinces were perhaps never better disposed to the metropolitan state, than at the very period of which we are about to write. All their early predilections seemed to be gaining strength, instead of becoming weaker; and, as in nature, the calm is known to succeed the tempest, the blind attachment of the colony to the parent country, was but a precursor of the alienation and violent disunion that were so soon to follow. “Our ancient friendship, and I am proud to add, affinity of blood, unite in inducing me to write a line, at this interesting moment. Of the result of this rash experiment of the Pretender's son, no prudent man can entertain a doubt. Still, the boy may give us some trouble, before he is disposed of, altogether. We look to all our friends, therefore, for their most efficient exertions, and most prudent co-operation. On you, every reliance is placed; and I wish I could say as much for every flag-officer afloat. Some distrust— unmerited, I sincerely hope—exists in a very high quarter, touching the loyalty of a certain commander-in-chief, who is so completely under your observation, that it is felt enough is done in hinting the fact to one of your political tendencies. The king said, this morning, `Vell, dere isht Bluevater; of him we are shure asht of ter sun.' You stand excellently well there, to my great delight; and I need only say, be watchful and prompt. “I write this in a bed big enough to ware a ninety in. I 've been athwart ships half the night, without knowing it, Galleygo has just been in to report `our fleet' all well, and the ships riding flood. It seems there is a good look-out from the top of the house, where part of the roads are visible, Magrath, and the rest of them, have been at poor Sir Wycherly all night, I learn, but he remains down by the head, yet. I am afraid the good old man will never be in trim again. I shall remain here, until something is decided; and as we cannot expect our orders until next day after to-morrow, at the soonest, one might as well be here, as on board. Come ashore and breakfast with us; when we can consult about the propriety of remaining, or of abandoning the wreck. Adieu,
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10Author:  Cooper James Fenimore 1789-1851Add
 Title:  The wing-and-wing, or, Le Feu-follet  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: The charms of the Tyrrhenian Sea have been sung since the days of Homer. That the Mediterranean, generally, and its beautiful boundaries of Alps and Apennines, with its deeply indented and irregular shores, forms the most delightful region of the known earth, in all that relates to climate, productions, and physical formation, will be readily enough conceded by the traveller. The countries that border on this midland water, with their promontories buttressing a mimic ocean—their mountain-sides teeming with the picturesque of human life — their heights crowned with watch-towers—their rocky shelves consecrated by hermitages, and their unrivalled sheet dotted with sails, rigged, as it might be, expressly to produce effect in a picture, form a sort of world apart, that is replete with delights to all who have the happy fortune to feel charms, which not only fascinate the beholder, but which linger in the memories of the absent like visions of a glorious past. My Lord—I have the satisfaction of reporting, for the information of my Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty, the destruction of the Republican privateer, the le Few-Folly, commanded by the notorious Raoul Yvard, on the night of the 22d inst. The circumstances attending this important success, are as follows. Understanding that the celebrated picaroon had been on the Neapolitan and Roman coasts, doing much mischief, I took His Majesty's ship close in, following up the peninsula, with the land in sight, until we got through the Canal of Elba, early on the morning of the 21st. On opening Porto Ferrajo bay, we saw a lugger lying at anchor off the town, with English colours flying. As this was a friendly port, we could not suppose the craft to be the le Few-Folly; but, determined to make sure, we beat in, signalling the stranger, until he took advantage of our stretching well over to the eastward, to slip round the rocks, and get off to-windward. We followed, for a short distance, and then ran over under the lee of Capraya, where we remained until the morning of the 22d, when we again went off the town. We found the lugger in the offing; and being now well satisfied of her character, and it falling calm, I sent the boats after her, under Messrs. Winchester and Griffin, the first and second of this ship. After a sharp skirmish, in which we sustained some loss, though that of the Republicans was evidently much greater, Monsieur Yvard succeeded in effecting his escape, in consequence of a breeze's suddenly springing up. Sail was now made on the ship, and we chased the lugger into the mouth of the Golo. Having fortunately captured a felucca, with a quantity of tar, and other combustible materials on board, as we drew in with the land, I determined to make a fire-ship of her, and to destroy the enemy by that mode; he having anchored within the shoals, beyond the reach of shot. Mr. Winchester, the first, having been wounded in the boat-affair, I entrusted the execution of this duty to Mr. Griffin, who handsomely volunteered, and by whom it was effectually discharged, about ten last evening, in the coolest and most officer-like manner. I enclose this gentleman's report of the affair, and beg leave to recommend him to the favour of my Lords Commissioners. With Mr. Winchester's good conduct, under a sharp fire, in the morning, the service has also every reason to be satisfied. I hope this valuable officer will soon be able to return to duty. Cuffe read this report over twice; then he sent for Griffin, to whom he read it aloud, glancing his eye meaningly at his subordinate, when he came to the part where he spoke of the young man's good conduct.
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11Author:  Cooper James Fenimore 1789-1851Add
 Title:  The wing-and-wing, or, Le Feu-follet  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: During the momentous five minutes occupied in these private movements, Raoul affected to be gaping about in vulgar astonishment, examining the guns, rigging, ornaments of the quarter-deck, &c.; though, in truth, nothing that passed among those near him, escaped his vigilant attention. He was uneasy at the signs of the times, and now regretted his own temerity; but still he thought his incognito must be impenetrable. Like most persons, who fancy they speak a foreign language well, he was ignorant, too, in how many little things he betrayed himself; the Englishman, cæteris paribus, usually pronouncing the Italian better than the Frenchman, on account of the greater affinity between his native language and that of Italy, in what relates to emphasis and sounds. Such was the state of mind of our hero, then, as he got an intimation that the captain of the ship wished to see him below. Raoul observed, as he descended the ladder, to comply with what sounded very much like an order, that he was followed by the two Elban functionaries.
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12Author:  Cooper James Fenimore 1789-1851Add
 Title:  Ned Myers, or, A life before the mast  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: In consenting to lay before the world the experience of a common seaman, and, I may add, of one who has been such a sinner as the calling is only too apt to produce, I trust that no feeling of vanity has had an undue influence. I love the seas; and it is a pleasure to me to converse about them, and of the scenes I have witnessed, and of the hardships I have undergone on their bosom, in various parts of the world. Meeting with an old shipmate who is disposed to put into proper form the facts which I can give him, and believing that my narrative may be useful to some of those who follow the same pursuit as that in which I have been so long engaged, I see no evil in the course I am now taking, while I humbly trust it may be the means of effecting some little good. God grant that the pictures I shall feel bound to draw of my own past degradation and failings, contrasted as they must be with my present contentment and hopes, may induce some one, at least, of my readers to abandon the excesses so common among seamen, and to turn their eyes in the direction of those great truths which are so powerful to reform, and so convincing when regarded with humility, and with a just understanding of our own weaknesses.
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13Author:  Cooper James Fenimore 1789-1851Add
 Title:  Satanstoe, or, The Littlepage manuscripts  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: Away we went! Guert's aim was the islands, which carried him nearer home, while it offered a place of retreat, in the event of the danger's becoming more serious. The fierce rapidity with which we now moved prevented all conversation, or even much reflection. The reports of the rending ice, however, became more and more frequent, first coming from above, and then from below. More than once it seemed as if the immense mass of weight that had evidently collected somewhere near the town of Albany, was about to pour down upon us in a flood—when the river would have been swept for miles, by a resistless torrent. Nevertheless, Guert held on his way; firstly, because he knew it would be impossible to get on either of the main shores, anywhere near the point where we happened to be; and secondly, because, having often seen similar dammings of the waters, he fancied we were still safe. That the distant reader may understand the precise character of the danger we ran, it may be well to give him some notion of the localities.
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14Author:  Cooper James Fenimore 1789-1851Add
 Title:  The chainbearer, or, The Littlepage manuscripts  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: My father was Cornelius Littlepage, of Satanstoe, in the county of West Chester, and State of New York; and my mother was Anneke Mordaunt, of Lilacsbush, a place long known by that name, which still stands near Kingsbridge, but on the island of Manhattan, and consequently in one of the wards of New York, though quite eleven miles from town. I shall suppose that my readers know the difference between the Island of Manhattan, and Manhattan Island; though I have found soi-disant Manhattanese, of mature years, but of alien birth, who had to be taught it. Lilacsbush, I repeat therefore, was on the Island of Manhattan, eleven miles from town, though in the city of New York, and not on Manhattan Island.
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15Author:  Cooper James Fenimore 1789-1851Add
 Title:  The chainbearer, or, The Littlepage manuscripts  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: For the first half hour after I left Ursula Malbone's hut, I was literally unconscious of whither I was going, or of what I was about. I can recollect nothing but having passed quite near to the Onondago, who appeared desirous of speaking to me, but whom I avoided by a species of instinct rather than with any design. In fact, fatigue first brought me fairly to my senses. I had wandered miles and miles, plunging deeper and deeper into the wilds of the forest, and this without any aim, or any knowledge of even the direction in which I was going. Night soon came to cast its shadows on the earth, and my uncertain course was held amid the gloom of the hour, united to those of the woods. I had wearied myself by rapid walking over the uneven surface of the forest, and finally threw myself on the trunk of a fallen tree, willing to take some repose. “As you have often professed a strong regard for me, I now put you to the proof of the sincerity of your protestations. My dear uncle goes to your father, whom I only know by report, to demand the release of Major Littlepage, who, we hear, is a prisoner in the hands of your family, against all law and right. As it is possible the business of uncle Chainbearer will be disagreeable to Thousandacres, and that warm words may pass between them, I ask of your friendship some efforts to keep the peace; and, particularly, should anything happen to prevent my uncle from returning, that you would come to me in the woods—for I shall accompany the chainbearer to the edge of your clearing— and let me know it. You will find me there, attended by one of the blacks, and we can easily meet if you cross the fields in an eastern direction, as I will send the negro to find you and to bring you to me.
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16Author:  Cooper James Fenimore 1789-1851Add
 Title:  The redskins, or, Indian and Injin  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: My uncle Ro and myself had been travelling together in the East, and had been absent from home fully five years, when we reached Paris. For eighteen months neither of us had seen a line from America, when we drove through the barriers, on our way from Egypt, via Algiers, Marseilles, and Lyons. Not once, in all that time, had we crossed our own track, in a way to enable us to pick up a straggling letter; and all our previous precautions to have the epistles meet us at different bankers in Italy, Turkey, and Malta, were thrown away.
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17Author:  Cooper James Fenimore 1789-1851Add
 Title:  The oak openings, or, The bee-hunter  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: We have heard of those who fancied that they beheld a signal instance of the hand of the Creator in the celebrated cataract of Niagara. Such instances of the power of sensible and near objects to influence certain minds, only prove how much easier it is to impress the imaginations of the dull with images that are novel, than with those that are less apparent, though of infinitely greater magnitude. Thus, it would seem to be strange, indeed, that any human being should find more to wonder at in any one of the phenomena of the earth, than in the earth itself; or, should specially stand astonished at the might of Him who created the world, when each night brings into view a firmament studded with other worlds, each equally the work of His hands!
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18Author:  Cooper James Fenimore 1789-1851Add
 Title:  The oak openings, or, The bee-hunter  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: When the bee hunter and corporal Flint thus went forth at midnight, from the “garrison” of Castle Meal, (chateau au miel,) as the latter would have expressed it, it was with no great apprehension of meeting any other than a four-footed enemy, notwithstanding the blast of the horn the worthy corporal supposed he had heard. The movements of the dog seemed to announce such a result rather than any other, for Hive was taken along as a sort of guide. Le Bourdon, however, did not permit his mastiff to run off wide, but, having the animal at perfect command, it was kept close to his own person.
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19Author:  Cooper James Fenimore 1789-1851Add
 Title:  The sea lions, or, The lost sealers  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: While there is less of that high polish in America that is obtained by long intercourse with the great world, than is to be found in nearly every European country, there is much less positive rusticity also. There, the extremes of society are widely separated, repelling rather than attracting each other; while among ourselves, the tendency is to gravitate towards a common centre. Thus it is, that all things in America become subject to a mean law that is productive of a mediocrity which is probably much above the average of that of most nations; possibly of all, England excepted; but which is only a mediocrity, after all. In this way, excellence in nothing is justly appreciated, nor is it often recognised; and the suffrages of the nation are pretty uniformly bestowed on qualities of a secondary class. Numbers have sway, and it is as impossible to resist them in deciding on merit, as it is to deny their power in the ballot-boxes; time alone, with its great curative influence, supplying the remedy that is to restore the public mind to a healthful state, and give equally to the pretender and to him who is worthy of renown, his proper place in the pages of history.
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20Author:  Cooper James Fenimore 1789-1851Add
 Title:  The sea lions, or, The lost sealers  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: Roswell was hardly on the ice before a sound of a most portentous sort reached his ear. He knew at once that the field had been rent in twain by outward pressure, and that some new change was to occur that might release or might destroy the schooner. He was on the point of springing forward in order to join Daggett, when a call from the boat arrested his steps.
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