| | 361 | Author: | Neal
John
1793-1876 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Rachel Dyer  | | | | 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 early history of New-England, or of Massachusetts
Bay, rather; now one of the six New-England
States of North America, and that on which the Plymouth
settlers, or “Fathers” went ashore—the shipwrecked
men of mighty age, abounds with proof that
witchcraft was a familiar study, and that witches and
wizards were believed in for a great while, among the
most enlightened part of a large and well-educated religious
population. The multitude of course had a like
faith; for such authority governs the multitude every
where, and at all times. “Reverend Gentlemen,—The innocency of our case, with the
enmity of our accusers and our judges and jury, whom nothing
but our innocent blood will serve, having condemned us
already before our trials, being so much incensed and enraged
against us by the devil, makes us bold to beg and implore your
favourable assistance of this our humble petition to his excellency,
that if it be possible our innocent blood may be spared,
which undoubtedly otherwise will be shed, if the Lord doth not
mercifully step in; the magistrates, ministers, juries, and all
the people in general, being so much enraged and incensed
against us by the delusion of the devil, which we can term no
other, by reason we know in our own consciences we are all
innocent persons. Here are five persons who have lately confessed
themselves to be witches, and do accuse some of us of
being along with them at a sacrament, since we were committed
into close prison, which we know to be lies. Two of the five
are (Carrier's sons) young men, who would not confess any
thing till they tied them neck and heels, till the blood was ready
to come out of their noses; and it is credibly believed and reported
this was the occasion of making them confess what they
never did, by reason they said one had been a witch a month,
and another five weeks, and that their mother had made them
so, who has been confined here this nine weeks. My son
William Proctor, when he was examined, because he would not
confess that he was guilty, when he was innocent, they tied him
neck and heels till the blood gushed out at his nose, and would
have kept him so twenty-four hours, if one, more merciful than
the rest, had not taken pity on him, and caused him to be unbound.
These actions are very like the popish cruelties. They
have already undone us in our estates, and that will not serve
their turns without our innocent blood. If it cannot be granted
that we have our trials at Boston, we humbly beg that you
would endeavor to have these magistrates changed, and others
in their rooms; begging also and beseeching you would be
pleased to be here, if not all, some of you, at our trials, hoping
thereby you may be the means of saving the shedding of innocent
blood. Desiring your prayers to the Lord in our behalf,
we rest your poor afflicted servants, “Being brought before the justices, her chief accusers were
two girls. My wife declared to the justices, that she never had
any knowledge of them before that day. She was forced to
stand with her arms stretched out. I requested that I might
old one of her hands, but it was denied me; then she desired
me to wipe the tears from her eyes, and the sweat from her
face, which I did; then she desired that she might lean herself
on me, saying she should faint. By the honourable the lieutenant governor, council and assembly
of his majesty's province of the Masachusetts-Bay, in
general court assembled. “Upon the day of the fast, in the full assembly at the south
meeting-house in Boston, one of the honorable judges, [the
chief justice Sewall] who had sat in judicature in Salem, delivered
in a paper, and while it was in reading stood up; but
the copy being not to be obtained at present, it can only be
reported by memory to this effect, viz. It was to desire the
prayers of God's people for him and his; and that God having
visited his family, &c, he was apprehensive that he might have
fallen into some errors in the matters at Salem, and pray that
the guilt of such miscarriages may not be imputed either to the
country in general, or to him or his family in particular. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 363 | Author: | Neal
Joseph C.
(Joseph Clay)
1807-1847 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Charcoal sketches, or, Scenes in a metropolis | | | | 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 said that poetry is on the decline, and that as man
surrounds himself with artificial comforts, and devotes
his energies to purposes of practical utility, the sphere of
imagination becomes circumscribed, and the worship of
the Muses is neglected. We are somewhat disposed to
assent to this conclusion; the more from having remarked
the fact that the true poetic temperament is not so frequently
met with as it was a few years since, and that
the outward marks of genius daily become more rare.
Where the indications no longer exist, or where they
gradually disappear, it is but fair to conclude that the
thing itself is perishing. There are, it is true, many delightful
versifiers at the present moment, but we fear that
though they display partial evidences of inspiration upon
paper, the scintillations are deceptive. Their conduct
seldom exhibits sufficient proof that they are touched
with the celestial fire, to justify the public in regarding
them as the genuine article. Judging from the rules
formerly considered absolute upon this point, it is altogether
preposterous for your happy, well-behaved, well-dressed,
smoothly-shaved gentleman, who pays his debts,
and submits quietly to the laws framed for the government
of the uninspired part of society, to arrogate to
himself a place in the first rank of the sons of genius,
whatever may be his merits with the gray goose quill.
There is something defective about him. The divine
afflatus has been denied, and though he may flap his
wings, and soar as high as the house-tops, no one can
think him capable of cleaving the clouds, and of playing
hide and seek among the stars. Even if he were to do
so, the spectator would either believe that his eyes deceived
him, or that the successful flight was accidental,
and owing rather to a temporary density of the atmosphere
than to a strength of pinion. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 366 | Author: | Paulding
James Kirke
1778-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | John Bull in America, or, The new Munchausen | | | | 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: | Previous to my departure for the Western
paradise of liberty, my impressions with regard
to the country were, upon the whole, rather of a
favourable character. It is true, I did not believe
a word of the inflated accounts given by certain
French revolutionary travellers, such as Brissot,
Chastellux, and others; much less in those of Birkbeck,
Miss Wright, Captain Hall, and the rest of
the radical fry. I was too conversant with the
Quarterly Review, to be led astray by these Utopian
romancers, and felt pretty well satisfied that
the institutions of the country were altogether
barbarous. I also fully believed that the people
were a bundling, gouging, drinking, spitting, impious
race, without either morals, literature, religion,
or refinement; and that the turbulent spirit
of democracy was altogether incompatible with any
state of society becoming a civilized nation. Being
thus convinced that their situation was, for the present,
deplorable, and in the future entirely hopeless,
unless they presently relieved themselves
from the cumbrous load of liberty, under which
they groaned, I fell into a sort of compassion for
them, such as we feel for condemned criminals,
having no hope of respite, and no claim to benefit
of clergy. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 367 | Author: | Paulding
James Kirke
1778-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The merry tales of the three wise men of Gotham | | | | 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 was born, began the first Wise Man of Gotham,
in a country that I consider unworthy of my nativity,
and for that reason I shall do all in my
power to deprive it of the honour, by not mentioning
its name. I am, moreover, descended from
a family, which must necessarily be of great antiquity,
since, like all old things, it has long since
fallen into decay. My father had little or no money,
but was blessed with the poor man's wealth,
a fruitful wife and great store of children. Of
these I am the eldest; but at the period I shall
commence my story, we were all too young to
take care of ourselves, until the fortunate discovery
was made by some great philanthropist, that
little children, of six or seven years old, could
labour a dozen or fourteen hours a day without
stinting their minds, ruining their health, or destroying
their morals. This improvement in the
great science of PRODUCTIVE LABOUR, delighted my
father—it was shifting the onus, as the lawyers
say, from his own shoulders to that of his children.
He forthwith bound us all over to a cotton
manufactory, where we stood upon our legs
three times as long as a member of congress, that
is to say, fourteen hours a day, and among eight
of us, managed to earn a guinea a week. The
old gentleman, for gentleman he became from the
moment he discovered his little flock could maintain
him—thought he had opened a mine. He
left off working, and took to drinking and studying
the mysteries of political economy and productive
labour. He soon became an adept in this
glorious science, and at length arrived at the happy
conclusion, that the whole moral, physical, political
and religious organization of society, resolved
itself into making the most of human labour,
just as we do of that of our horses, oxen, asses
and other beasts of burthen. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 368 | Author: | Paulding
James Kirke
1778-1860 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The new mirror for travellers and guide to the springs | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | In compiling and cogitating this work, we have considered
ourselves as having no manner of concern with
travellers until they arrive in the city of New York,
where we intend to take them under our especial protection.
Doubtless, in proceeding from the south,
there are various objects worth the attention of the traveller,
who may take the opportunity of stopping to
change horses, or to dine, to look round him a little,
and see what is to be seen. But, generally speaking,
all is lost time, until he arrives at New York, of which
it may justly be said, that as Paris is France, so New
York is—New York. It is here then that we take the
fashionable tourist by the hand and commence cicerone. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 371 | Author: | unknown | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Tales of Glauber-Spa | | | | Published: | 2006 | | | | 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 am quite delighted with this place, now that I
have got over that bad habit of blushing and trembling,
which Mrs. Asheputtle assures me is highly indecent
and unbecoming. She says it is a sign of a bad conscience
and wicked thoughts, when the blood rushes
into the face. I wish you knew Mrs. Asheputtle. She
has been all over Europe, and seen several kings of the
old dynasties, who, she says, were much more difficult
to come at than the new ones, who are so much afraid of
the canaille, that they are civil to everybody. Only
think, how vulgar. Mrs. Asheputtle says, that she
knew several men with titles; and that she is sure, if
she had not been unfortunately married before, she
might have been the wife of the Marquis of Tête de
Veau. The marquis was terribly disappointed when
he found she had a husband already; but they made
amends by forming a Platonic attachment, which means
—I don't know really what it means—for Mrs. Asheputtle,
it seemed to me, could not tell herself. All I know
is, that it must be a delightful thing, and I long to try it,
when I am married—for Mrs. Asheputtle says it won't
do for a single lady. What can it be, I wonder? "One of the great disadvantages of foreign travel is,
that it unfits one for the enjoyment of any thing in one's
own country, particularly when that country is so every
way inferior to the old world. It is truly a great misfortune
for a man to have too much taste and refinement.
I feel this truth every day of my life; and could almost
find in my heart to regret the acquirement of habits
and accomplishments that almost disqualify me for a
citizen of this vulgar republic, which, I am sorry to
perceive, seems in a fair way of debauching the whole
world with her pernicious example of liberty and
equality. If it were not for Delmonico and Palmo, the
musical soirées, and a few other matters, I should be the
most miserable man in the world. Would you believe
it, my dear count, there is not a silver fork to be seen in
all the hotels between New-York and Saratoga? And
yet the people pretend to be civilized! | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 372 | Author: | unknown | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | A quarter race in Kentucky | | | | Published: | 2006 | | | | 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 would start against the Old Mare; and after
more formal preparation in making weight and posting
judges than is customary when there is a contest, "the
sateful old kritter" went off crippling as if she was not
fit to run for sour cider, and any thing could take the
shine out of her that had the audacity to try it. The
muster at the stand was slim, it having been understood
up town, that as to sport to-day the races would prove
a water-haul. I missed all that class of old and young
gentlemen who annoy owners, trainers, and riders,
particularly if they observe they are much engaged,
with questions that should not be asked, and either
can't or should not be answered. The business folks
and men of gumption were generally on the grit, and
much of the chaff certainly had been blown off. Dinner kin be had On the FoLLowin Tums at my
HousE to Day priv8s thirty seven cents non comeishund
ophisers 25 comeishund frEE i want you awl to ete
dancin to beGin at won erclock awl them what dont
wish to kevort will finD cards on the shelf in the
cubberd licker On the uzual Tums | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 375 | Author: | Bennett
Emerson
1822-1905 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Clara Moreland, or, Adventures in the far South-west | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | The first of October, of the year of our Lord 1845,
found me a guest of the Tremont House, in the goodly city
of Galveston, Texas. An invalid guest, I may add—for I
had been confined to my room for some days, suffering
much pain from a couple of flesh wounds received in a
recent skirmish with a party of Texan brigands, somewhere
between my present abode and the river Brazos,
while in the act of making my escape with some friends
from the head-quarters of a notorious villain, counterfeiter,
etcetera, known as Count D'Estang. The reader
who has been so fortunate, or unfortunate, (I leave him to
decide which,) as to peruse a portion of my narrative, under
the title of “Viola,” will readily understand to what I
allude; but in order to refresh his memory with the past
events of my career, and also give those before whom I
may now appear for the first time an inkling of what has
already been recorded of my adventures, I will here transcribe
a letter, which about this period I wrote home to
my worthy parent in Virginia: “In my last, dated at New Orleans, you will recollect I
made some mention of a very eccentric travelling companion,
by the name of Harley, who, having been introduced
to me one night at a ball in Swansdown, renewed acquaintance
on the boat at Louisville, and kept me company down
the river; and I think I also added, that we had in contemplation
a trip to Mexico, merely to gratify curiosity and
have some adventures. Well, we have not been to Mexico
as yet—but we have had some adventures notwithstanding.
If memory serves me right, I told you there was a certain
mystery about my friend—for even then I regarded him as
such—which I had not been able to fathom; but this has
since been explained away, and I now know his whole
history. “I have just received a letter from home, which requires
my presence there immediately. My poor father has been
taken suddenly ill, and is not expected to recover. I shall
leave to-day for Macon, via Savannah, taking Viola with
me, to whom I now expect my friends to be reconciled,
since the blood of the St. Auburns is not in her veins. As
I cannot fix on any time for my return, you had better not
wait for me; but write to Macon, and keep me advised of
your whereabouts. It grieves me to part with so dear a
friend—but necessity compels me. Can you not come to
Macon? Think of it seriously—I will assure you of a
cordial reception. Dear Viola, with tearful eyes, sends
her love to you. Do not fail to write, and keep me
advised of your doings; and believe me, my dear Harry, “Pardon my seeming uncourteousness of last night! I
was agitated, and troubled, but not without cause. After
what has already passed between us, I think it no more
than right that I should, to some extent, give you the explanation
you desired. This cannot be done in the presence
of a third party; and I must entreat you not to mention
aught of last night's interview to any one! Destroy this
as soon as read! | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 376 | Author: | Bennett
Emerson
1822-1905 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The phantom of the forest | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | Probably no region of the globe ever presented
more attractions to the genuine hunter and lover of
the backwoods, than the territory known as Kentucky
previous to its settlement by the race that
now holds possession of its soil. Its location, happily
intermediate between the extremes of heat and cold,
afforded a most congenial climate; its surface was
diversified by steep hills and deep valleys, stupendous
cliffs and marshy levels, dense woods and flowery
glades, immense caverns and tangled brakes, large
streams and wonderful licks; and hither came all the
beasts of the forest, to roam in unrestrained freedom
through wilds seldom trod by human feet, and gay-plumed
songsters from every region swept along the
balmy air and made the sylvan retreats ring with
their silvery strains. When first discovered by the
white man, no human beings claimed ownership of
this enchanting land. The red man of the North,
and the red man of the South, came here to hunt and
fight; but the victor bore off his spoils, and the vanquished
went back in dismay, and neither put up
his wigwam on the neutral ground. For years after
its discovery by the white man, Kentucky could not
boast a hundred of the race within its borders; but
then the tide of emigration set in strongly toward
this western land of promise, and a few years more
beheld its broad surface dotted here and there with
the rude fortresses and dwellings of incipient civilization.
Every step forward, however, was marked
with blood. The red man was jealous of the white,
and there was for a long period an almost continuous,
fierce, and sanguinary struggle for the mastery;
while the midnight yells, the wailing shrieks and
the burning homes, too often proclaimed the horrid
work of death and desolation. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 377 | Author: | Cary
Alice
1820-1871 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The adopted daughter | | | | Published: | 2002 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | BY ALICE CAREY,
AUTHOR OF “CLOVERNOOK,” “LYRA,” ETC. “Miss Pridore,—A conversation with your brother this
afternoon, in which my father's misfortunes were the subject of
ridicule, will make it necessary for me to forego the pleasure of
seeing you at his birth-night party. Your friend, | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 378 | Author: | Cary
Alice
1820-1871 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The bishop's son | | | | Published: | 2002 | | | | 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 sunshine was hot between the April showers,
and the rude, rickety door-stones (they could
hardly be called door-steps) of the old farmhouse
to which, they led, were wet and dry
almost at the same moment, happening at the
moment in which our story opens, to be dry; the fickle
clouds had scattered, and the sun was shining with pretty
nearly midsummer heat. It was about noon-day, and the
young girl who had been busy all the morning digging in
the flower-beds that lay on either side a straight path running
from the front door to the front gate, suddenly tossed
aside her bonnet, and flung herself down on the steps. She
was tired, and rather lay than sat; and a pleasant picture
she made, her flushed cheek on her arm, the cape, lately
tied at her throat, drawn carelessly to her lap, her tiny
naked feet sunken in the grass, and all her fair neck and
dimpled shoulders bare. “My sweet Sister Fairfax: When I was under your
hospitable roof, a day or two since,” (he had not been
under the roof at all, remember), “I had the rashness to
make a proposal to your little daughter which I have not
the courage to carry out without your permission. But to
come at once to the head and front of my offending, I proposed
to take her to see our unfortunate brother, Samuel
Dale, of whom, by the way, I hear sad accounts. It seemed
to me that it might gratify the childish fondness she appears
to feel for him, and do no harm, but you, of course, are the
best judge of this, and on second thoughts I have been led
to distrust my first impulse; but the little darling has a
strange power upon me, and I could not see her suffering
without at least seeking to relieve it. If you approve of
my suggestion I will report myself for duty in a day or two,
so soon as I shall be well enough, and, as I am in the skilful
hands of Dr. Allprice, I entertain the most sanguine hopes.
If you do not approve, pray forgive me, and believe me, in
the deepest penitence, “My sweet Kate: — To prove to you that your memory
has been fondly cherished all these years, I return to you a
little souvenir that is dearer to me than the `ruddy drops
that visit this sad heart.' Suffer no harm to come to it, but
let me have it back; I will hold it for a talisman, `and
call upon it in a storm, and save the ship from perishing
some time.' “I am off a little sooner than I expected, dear Sam,” he
said, “and cannot well spare the money to pay the note that
will be handed you with this; please arrange it for me and
add one more to my many obligations. I will be back at
farthest in six weeks, and then we will square up, once for
all, I hope. Everything looks bright for me as a May morning.
By the way, Kate is charmed with you; she comes
near making me jealous! Always and always your affectionate | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 379 | Author: | Jacobs
Harriet A.
(Harriet Ann)
1813-1897 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Incidents in the life of a slave girl | | | | Published: | 2003 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | I was born a slave; but I never knew it till six
years of happy childhood had passed away. My father
was a carpenter, and considered so intelligent and
skilful in his trade, that, when buildings out of the
common line were to be erected, he was sent for from
long distances, to be head workman. On condition
of paying his mistress two hundred dollars a year, and
supporting himself, he was allowed to work at his
trade, and manage his own affairs. His strongest
wish was to purchase his children; but, though he
several times offered his hard earnings for that purpose,
he never succeeded. In complexion my parents
were a light shade of brownish yellow, and were
termed mulattoes. They lived together in a comfortable
home; and, though we were all slaves, I was so
fondly shielded that I never dreamed I was a piece
of merchandise, trusted to them for safe keeping, and
liable to be demanded of them at any moment. I had
one brother, William, who was two years younger
than myself — a bright, affectionate child. I had also
a great treasure in my maternal grandmother, who
was a remarkable woman in many respects. She was
the daughter of a planter in South Carolina, who, at
his death, left her mother and his three children free,
with money to go to St. Augustine, where they had
relatives. It was during the Revolutionary War; and
they were captured on their passage, carried back, and
sold to different purchasers. Such was the story my
grandmother used to tell me; but I do not remember
all the particulars. She was a little girl when she was
captured and sold to the keeper of a large hotel. I
have often heard her tell how hard she fared during
childhood. But as she grew older she evinced so
much intelligence, and was so faithful, that her master
and mistress could not help seeing it was for their
interest to take care of such a valuable piece of property.
She became an indispensable personage in the
household, officiating in all capacities, from cook and
wet nurse to seamstress. She was much praised for
her cooking; and her nice crackers became so famous
in the neighborhood that many people were desirous
of obtaining them. In consequence of numerous requests
of this kind, she asked permission of her mistress
to bake crackers at night, after all the household
work was done; and she obtained leave to do it, provided
she would clothe herself and her children from
the profits. Upon these terms, after working hard all
day for her mistress, she began her midnight bakings,
2
assisted by her two oldest children. The business
proved profitable; and each year she laid by a little,
which was saved for a fund to purchase her children.
Her master died, and the property was divided among
his heirs. The widow had her dower in the hotel,
which she continued to keep open. My grandmother
remained in her service as a slave; but her children
were divided among her master's children. As she
had five, Benjamin, the youngest one, was sold, in
order that each heir might have an equal portion of
dollars and cents. There was so little difference in
our ages that he seemed more like my brother than
my uncle. He was a bright, handsome lad, nearly
white; for he inherited the complexion my grandmother
had derived from Anglo-Saxon ancestors.
Though only ten years old, seven hundred and twenty
dollars were paid for him. His sale was a terrible
blow to my grandmother; but she was naturally hopeful,
and she went to work with renewed energy, trusting
in time to be able to purchase some of her children.
She had laid up three hundred dollars, which her
mistress one day begged as a loan, promising to pay
her soon. The reader probably knows that no promise
or writing given to a slave is legally binding; for,
according to Southern laws, a slave, being property,
can hold no property. When my grandmother lent
her hard earnings to her mistress, she trusted solely
to her honor. The honor of a slaveholder to a slave! “$300 Reward! Ran away from the subscriber,
an intelligent, bright, mulatto girl, named Linda, 21
years of age. Five feet four inches high. Dark
eyes, and black hair inclined to curl; but it can
be made straight. Has a decayed spot on a front
tooth. She can read and write, and in all probability
will try to get to the Free States. All persons are forbidden,
under penalty of the law, to harbor or employ
said slave. $150 will be given to whoever takes her
in the state, and $300 if taken out of the state and
delivered to me, or lodged in jail. “Dear Grandmother: I have long wanted to write
to you; but the disgraceful manner in which I left you
and my children made me ashamed to do it. If you
knew how much I have suffered since I ran away, you
would pity and forgive me. I have purchased freedom
at a dear rate. If any arrangement could be
made for me to return to the south without being a
slave, I would gladly come. If not, I beg of you to
send my children to the north. I cannot live any
longer without them. Let me know in time, and I
will meet them in New York or Philadelphia, whichever
place best suits my uncle's convenience. Write
as soon as possible to your unhappy daughter, | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 380 | Author: | Cary
Alice
1820-1871 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Hagar | | | | Published: | 2002 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | Fragments of clouds, leaden and black and ashen,
ran under and over each other along the sky, now
totally and now only in part obscuring the half
moon, whose white and chilly rays might not penetrate
the rustic bower within which sat two persons,
conversing in low and earnest tones. But, notwithstanding
the faintness of the moonlight, enough of
their dresses and features were discernible to mark
them male and female, for the dull skirts of night
had now scarcely overswept the golden borders of
twlight. The long and dense bar that lay across
the west, retained still some touch of its lately
crimson fires. “Dear Fren—This is Sunday, and deuced hot and uncomfortable.
I have been lying under a maple by the mill-stream—my
line thrown out a little way below, and a new
book in hand—one of those bewildering productions which are
making so much noise—of course you understand: that
strange combination, the latest of Warburton's works. I have
never forgotten that sermon—so full of eloquent warning to
the sinner—so luminous with hope, comforting to the afflicted:
the very words seemed leaning to the heart; and how well
I remember his saying, `Oh, she was good, and in her life
and her death alike beautiful! knowing her goodness, shall it
be to us a barren thing? shall we not also shape our lives
into beauty? shall we not wash and be clean?' But a truce
to sermonizing. My coat is threadbare, and my pockets
empty, but as soon as opportunity occurs I mean to do something.
When I left the house Nancy had her bonnet on to
go to church, but the discovery of a hole in her stocking
obliged her to wait, and as the children had used the darning
yarn for a ball, and she had dropped her thimble in the well,
I fear she must be disappointed. And William too—poor fellow!
I left him waiting patiently, and looking much as if he
had dressed himself forty years ago, and never undressed
since. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
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