| | 1 | Author: | Bacon
Delia Salter
1811-1859 | Add | | | Title: | Tales of the Puritans  | | | | 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, according to your honor's order,
departed in search after Colonels Goffe and Whalley
(persons declared traitors to his Majesty) from Boston,
May 27th, 1661, about six o'clock at night, and arrived
at Hartford the 10th day, and repaired to Governor
Winthrop, and gave him your honor's letter and
his Majesty's order for the apprehending of Colonels
Whalley and Goffe, who gave us an account that they
did not stay there, but went directly for New-Haven, but
informed us that one Symon Lobden guided them to
the town. The honorable governor carried himself very
nobly to us, and was very diligent to supply us with all
manner of conveniences for the prosecution of them,
and promised all diligent search should be made after
them in that jurisdiction, which was afterwards performed.
The 11th day we arrived at Guilford, and repaired
to the deputy governor, William Leet, and delivered
him your honor's letter and the copy of his Majesty's
order for the apprehending of the aforesaid persons,
with whom at that time were several persons. After
the perusal of them, he began to read them audibly,
whereupon we told him it was convenient to be more
private in such concernments as that was; upon which
withdrawing to a chamber, he told us he had not seen
the two colonels not in nine weeks. We acquainted
him with the information we had received that they were
at New-Haven since that time he mentioned, and there-upon
desired him to furnish us with horses, &c.
which was prepared with some delays, which we took
notice of to him, and after parting with him out of
his house and in the way to the ordinary, came to us one
Dennis Scranton, and told us he would warrant that
Colonels Goffe and Whalley at the time of his speaking
were harbored at the house of one Mr. Davenport,
a minister at New-Haven, and that one Goodman Bishop,
of the town of Guilford, was able to give us the like
account, and that, without all question, Deputy Leet
knew as much, and that Mr. Davenport had put in ten
pounds worth of fresh provisions at one time into his
house, and that it was imagined it was purposely for the
entertainment of them. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 2 | Author: | Bennett
Emerson
1822-1905 | Add | | | Title: | Kate Clarendon, Or, Necromancy in the Wilderness | | | | 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: | On the banks of the beautiful
Ohio, some five or six miles above
the large and flourishing city of
Cincinnati, can be seen the small
and pleasant village of Columbia,
once laid out and designed to become
the capital of the great West.
This village stands on a beautiful
plain, which stretches away from
the Ohio in a north-easterly direction,
between two ridges, for a
goodly number of miles, and at the
base of what is termed Bald Hill—
a hill of a conical shape, from the
summit whereof you can command
every point of compass, and some
of the most delightful views in the
western country. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 3 | Author: | Bennett
Emerson
1822-1905 | Add | | | Title: | Leni Leoti, Or, Adventures in the Far West | | | | 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 was the last day of May, in the year
of our Lord 1843. Already the earth felt
the genial air of summer, and looked as
smiling as a gay maiden in her teens. The
blade had covered the ground with a carpet
of matchless green, amid which, their
lovely faces half concealed, bright flowers
of a hundred varieties, peeped modestly
forth to render the landscape enchanting,
giving their sweet breath to a southern
breeze that softly stole over them. The
trees in every direction were in full foliage,
and already among them could be
seen green bunches of embryo fruits. It
was in fact a delightful day, a delightful
season of the year, and a delightful scene
upon which I gazed, with feelings, alas!
that had more in them of sadness than
joy. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 4 | Author: | Bennett
Emerson
1822-1905 | Add | | | Title: | Oliver Goldfinch, Or, the Hypocrite | | | | 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 was a dark and stormy night in the
month of November, 18—. To simply say
it was dark and stormy, conveys but a faint
idea of what the night was in reality. The
clouds were pall black, and charged with
a vapor which, freezing as it descended,
spread an icy mantle over every thing exposed.
The wind was easterly and fierce,
and drove the sleety hail with a velocity
that made it any thing but pleasant to be
abroad. Signs creaked, windows rattled,
lamps flickered and became dim, casting
here and there long ghostly shadows, that
seemed to dance fantastically to the music
of the rushing winds, as they whistled
through some crevice, moaned down some
chimney, or howled along some deserted
alley on their mad career. It was, take it
all in all, a dismal night, and such an one
as, with a comfortable shelter over our
heads and a cheerful fire before us, is apt
to make us thank God we are not forced to
be abroad like the poor houseless wretches
who have no place to lay their heads. It
is too much the case at such times, that
we congratule ourselves on being far better
off than they, without taking into consideration
it is our duty, as humane beings,
to render them as comfortable as our circumstances
will permit. But who thinks
of the poor? God cares for them, say the
rich, and that is enough. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 5 | Author: | Bird
Robert Montgomery
1806-1854 | Add | | | Title: | Calavar, Or, the Knight of the Conquest | | | | 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 day that followed after the flight of Abdoul-al-Sidi,
beheld the army of Cortes crossing that ridge
which extends like a mighty curtain, between the
great volcano and the rugged Iztaccihuatl; and many
a hardy veteran shivered with cold and discontent,
as sharp gusts, whirling rain and snow from the inhospitable
summits, prepared him for the contrast
of peace and beauty which is unfolded to the traveller,
when he looks down from the mountains to the
verdant valley of Mexico. Even at the present day,
when the axe has destroyed the forest; when the
gardens of flowers—the cultivation of which, with a
degree of passionate affection that distinguished the
Mexicans from other races, seemed to impart a tinge
of poetry to their character, and mellow their rougher
traits with the hues of romance,—when these flower
gardens have vanished from the earth; when the
lakes have receded and diminished, and, with them,
the fair cities that once rose from their waters, leaving
behind them stagnant pools and saline deserts;
even now, under all these disadvantages, the prospect
of this valley is of such peculiar and astonishing
beauty as, perhaps, can be nowhere else equalled
among the haunts of men. The providence of the
Spanish viceroys in constructing a road more direct
and more easy of passage, to the north of the great
mountains, has robbed travellers of the more spirit-stirring
impressions which introduced them to the
spectacle, when pursuing the ancient highway of the
Mexicans. It ascends among gloomy defiles, at the
entrance of which stand, on either hand, like stupendous
towers guarding the gate of some Titan
strong-hold, the two grandest pinnacles of the interior.
It conducts you among crags and ravines, among
clouds and tempests, now sheltering you under a
forest of oaks and pines, now exposing you to the
furious blasts that howl along the ridges. A few dilapidated
hamlets of Indians, if they occasionally
break the solitude, destroy neither the grandeur nor
solemnity of the path. You remember, on this deserted
highway, that you are treading in the steps of
Cortes. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 6 | Author: | Bird
Robert Montgomery
1806-1854 | Add | | | Title: | Nick of the Woods, Or, the Jibbenainosay | | | | 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: | If we can believe the immortal poet, from
whom we have taken the above lines, to serve as
our letter of introduction to the gentle reader, the
grief of our first parents for the loss of Paradise
was not so deep and overwhelming but that they
almost immediately found comfort, when they reflected
they had exchanged it for the land of
Eden,—itself a paradise, though an earthly and
unsanctified one: | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 7 | Author: | Bird
Robert Montgomery
1806-1854 | Add | | | 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 | | | | Description: | “Travellers,” quoth Rosalind, the wise
and the witty, “have great reason to be
sad;” an assurance to which I know not
whether I feel inclined to subscribe assent or
not; the opinion of the world, (and to the
opinions of the world I always endeavour, as
a modest man, to square my own,) judging
from the world's practice, being directly the
reverse. To travel is to gain experience, (so
runs the argument;) and to have experience
is to have that which makes us sad. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 8 | Author: | Briggs
Charles F.
(Charles Frederick)
1804-1877 | Add | | | Title: | Bankrupt Stories | | | | 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 is with emotions of peculiar gratification to
our Heavenly Father, and his son, the Lord Jesus, that I take up my
pen to address you a few lines; as, but for his merciful interposition
in answer to the prayers of his servant, his unworthy servant, there is
but too much cause to believe that you would now be lying in the dark
prison house of death, where, by his inscrutable Providence, she that
should have been the sharer of your troubles and the promoter of your
pleasures now lies. Blessed be her spirit. But it is my office to heal
and not to open up afresh the wounds of my people. I bless God that
you arrived safely at home, and I trust my very dear young friend, that
your thoughts will be directed to the church, that you may be inclosed
in its broad fold, and that you may be made free by its bondage. For
the blessed privilege that we enjoy in this land, where there is none to
make us afraid, and where we have liberty in Christ, in his church and
ourselves, always excepting the slavery of sin, let us be ever grateful
and magnify his name. “Will you have the goodness to call and see me at the earliest
moment possible? I have something to communicate of great importance
to yourself and others in whom you are interested. Do
not fail to call. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 9 | Author: | Brooks
Maria Gowen
1794 or 5-1845 | Add | | | Title: | Idomen, Or, the Vale of Yumuri | | | | 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: | Various misfortunes had determined me to
visit the new world. Far advanced in the path
of life, my wishes were few. I sought only gold
enough to retire to some humble recess; and
hoped for no other pleasure, than to find at
last, some being capable of friendship, that I
might sometimes unburthen my heart, by expressing
my real sentiments. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 10 | Author: | Brown
Charles Brockden
1771-1810 | Add | | | Title: | Wieland, or the Transformation | | | | 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 Feel little reluctance in complying with your
request. You know not fully the cause of my
sorrows. You are a stranger to the depth of my
distresses. Hence your efforts at consolation must
necessarily fail. Yet the tale that I am going to tell
is not intended as a claim upon your sympathy. In
the midst of my despair, I do not dildain to contribute
what little I can to the benefit of mankind.
I acknowledge your right to be informed of the
events that have lately happened in my family.
Make what use of the tale you shall think proper.
If it be communicated to the world, it will inculcate
the duty of avoiding deceit. It will exemplify
the force of early impressions, and show the immeasurable
evils that flow from an erroneous or
imperfect discipline. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 11 | Author: | Brown
Charles Brockden
1771-1810 | Add | | | Title: | Arthur Mervyn, Or, Memoirs of the Year 1793 | | | | 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: | Here ended the narrative of Mervyn. Surely its incidents
were of no common kind. During this season
of pestilence, my opportunities of observation had been
numerous, and I had not suffered them to pass unimproved.
The occurrences which fell within my own
experience bore a general resemblance to those which
had just been related, but they did not hinder the latter
from striking on my mind with all the force of novelty.
They served no end, but as vouchers for the truth of
the tale. Where does this letter you promised me, stay all
this while? Indeed, Arthur, you torment me more
than I deserve, and more than I could ever find it in
my heart to do you. You treat me cruelly. I must
say so, though I offend you. I must write, though
you do not deserve that I should, and though I fear
I am in a humor not very fit for writing. I had better
go to my chamber and weep: weep at your—unkindness,
I was going to say; but, perhaps, it is only
forgetfulness: and yet what can be more unkind than
forgetfulness? I am sure I have never forgotten you.
Sleep itself, which wraps all other images in forgetfulness,
only brings you nearer, and makes me see you
more distinctly. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 12 | Author: | Brown
Charles Brockden
1771-1810 | Add | | | Title: | Clara Howard | | | | 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: | What could excite in you any
curiosity as to my affairs? You once knew
me a simple lad, plying the file and tweezers
at the bench of a watchmaker, with
no prospect before me but of labouring,
for a few years, at least, as a petty and
obscure journeyman, at the same bench
where I worked five years as an apprentice.
I was sprung from obscurity, destitute
of property, of parents, of paternal
friends; was full of that rustic diffidence,
that inveterate humility, which are alone
sufficient to divert from us the stream of
fortune's favours. Why do I write? For whose use do I
pass my time thus? There is no one living who
cares a jot for me. There was a time, when a
throbbing heart, a trembling hand, and eager
eyes were always prepared to read, and ruminate
on the scantiest and poorest scribble that
dropped from my pen, but she has disappeared.
The veil between us is like death. I need not tell you, my friend, what I
have felt, in consequence of your silence. The
short note which I received, a fortnight after
you had left me, roused my curiosity and my
fears, instead of allaying them. You promised
me a longer account of some mysterious
changes that had taken place in your condition.
This I was to receive in a few days. At the
end of a week I was impatient. The promised
letter did not arrive. Four weeks passed away,
and nothing came from you. I shall not call on you at Hatfield. I
am weary of traversing hills and dales; and
my detention in Virginia being longer than I
expected, shall go on board a vessel in this
port, bound for New-York. Contract, in my
name, with your old friend, for the present
accommodation of the girls, and repair to
New-York as soon as possible. Search out
No......., Broadway. If I am not there to embrace
you, inquire for my wife or niece, and
mention your name. Make haste; the women
long to see a youth in whose education I had
so large a share; and be sure, by your deportment,
not to discredit your instructor, and
belie my good report. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 13 | Author: | Brown
Charles Brockden
1771-1810 | Add | | | Title: | Jane Talbot | | | | 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 am very far from being a wise girl. So conscience
whispers me, and though vanity is
eager to refute the charge, I must acknowledge
that she is seldom successful. Conscience tells
me it is folly, it is guilt to wrap up my existence
in one frail mortal; to employ all my
thoughts, to lavish all my affections upon one
object; to doat upon a human being, who, as
such, must be the heir of many frailties, and
whom I know to be not without his faults; to
enjoy no peace but in his presence, to be grateful
for his permission to sacrifice fortune, ease,
life itself for his sake. “If you ever injured Mr. Talbot, your motives
A a
for doing so, entitle you to nothing but
compassion, while your present conduct lays
claim, not only to forgiveness, but to gratitude.
The letter you entrust to me, shall be applied
to no purpose but that which you proposed by
writing it. Inclosed, is the paper you request,
the seal unbroken and its contents unread. In
this, as in all cases, I have no stronger wish
than to act as | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 14 | Author: | Brown
William Hill
1765-1793 | Add | | | Title: | The Power of Sympathy, Or, the Triumph of Nature | | | | 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 AM sometimes mortified to find
the books which I recommend to your
perusal, are not always applicable to the situation
of an American lady. The general
observations of some English books are the
most useful things contained in them; the
principal parts being chiefly filled with local
deseriptions, which a young woman here is
frequently at a loss to understand. “TO the man for whom my bleeding
heart yet retains its wonted affection, though
the author of my guilt and misery, do I
address my feeble complaint---O! Harrington,
I am verging to a long eternity---and
Q 2
it is with difficulty I support myself while
my trembling hand traces the dictates of
my heart. Indisposed as I am---and unable
as I feel to prosecute this task---I however
collect all my powers to bid you a long
---a final farewell. “WE have a scene of distress at our house
peculiarly pathetick and affecting, and of
which you, perhaps, are the sole author—You
have had a criminal connexion with Miss
Fawcet—you have turned her upon the world
inhumanly—but chance—rather let me say
Providence, hath directed her footsteps to my
dwelling, where she is kindly entertained,
and will be so, as long as she remains in this
wilderness world, which is to be, I fear, but
a short time---And shall she not, though she
hath been decoyed from the road that leadeth
to peace, long life and happiness---
shall she not, if she return with tears of repentance
and contrition, be entitled to our
love and charity? Yes---this is my doctrine
---If I behold any child of human nature
distressed and forlorn, and in real want of the
necessities of life, must I restrain or withhold
the hand of charity---must I cease to recal
the departing spirit of them that are ready to
perish, until I make diligent inquiry into
their circumstances and character? Surely,
my friend, it is a duty incumbent on us by
the ties of humanity and fellow feeling, and
by the duty imposed on us by our holy religion,
equally to extend the hand of relief
to all the necessitous—however they may be
circumstanced in the great family of mankind. “PERMIT me, my ever honoured
friend, to return you thanks for your late favours—need
I add—an acknowledgment
for your liberality? No—your heart supplies
a source of pleasure which is constantly
nourished by your goodness and universal
charity.— “YOU are about to marry a young lady
of great beauty and accomplishments—I beg
you to bestow a few serious thoughts on this
important business—Let me claim your attention,
while I disclose an affair, which materially
concerns you—Harriot must not be
your wife—You know your father is averse
to your early connecting yourself in marriage
with any woman—The duty we owe a parent
is sacred, but this is not the only barrier
to your marriage—the ties of consanguinity
prevent it—She is your SISTER—
Your father, or Miss Harrington, will inform
you more particularly—It is sufficient for
me to have hinted it in time.—I am, with
the most perfect esteem, and sincere wishes
for your happiness, your | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 16 | Author: | Calvert
George Henry
1803-1889 | Add | | | Title: | A Volume from the Life of Herbert Barclay | | | | 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: | “Do you recollect when you were last with
us, you asked me, on occasion of my describing
some of the scenes of my youthful days,
to give you a chapter from my early life? If
you have forgotten your request and my promise
to comply with it, the accompanying
manuscript will remind you of both, and at
the same time of the proverb—“Give him an
inch and he will take an ell.” A short time
after you left us, I one day got Alfred to
make me some good pens, and taking a sheet
of his large school paper, that I might have
“room and verge enough,” I sat down to fulfil
my promise. I soon found myself at the end
of the sheet with my chapter unfinished, and
1*
what I had written appearing to me very meager.
The effort, however, created an interest
in the occupation. Half-buried recollections
with their trains of association rose up. The
motives of pleasure and curiosity added themselves
to the simple purpose of keeping my
word to you. The design of enveloping fact
in fiction grew out of them. I resolved to
give you half a dozen chapters instead of
one; and here you have the result of this resolve
in the form of a volume—and an exemplification
of the growth of great things out of
small. When I tell you, that the task of writing
it has afforded me much pleasure, I know I
furnish you with a motive to bear patiently the
task of reading it. My wife, too, has been
highly amused with the productions of “my
book,” as she calls it. She has indeed contributed
to it. The proper names are all testimonials
of her genius for fiction. She claims
to have supplied, besides, useful hints, and
even to have made several important corrections:
most of these claims, however, are questionable.
You will be wrong if you ascribe
to her any portion of my character. I alone
am answerable for the liberties which in that
picture fiction has taken with fact. Whatever
difficulty you may have in discerning the proportions
in which they are mingled, you will
have none when I tell you that you have a
sincere friend in “P. S. How soon shall we see you again in
this part of Maryland? Alfred asks often
when you are coming back. His partiality
for you is owing chiefly, I believe, to his triumphs
over you in geography.” —“Had I observed that Herbert's natural
dispositions exposed him to be particularly injured
by pursuing this course, I should not
have permitted him to pursue it. Respect
for his father's injunctions would have yielded
to regard for his welfare. Indeed, in disregarding
such injunctions from such a motive,
I should have felt, that I was doing a duty
towards my brother himself, as well as towards
my nephew. But Herbert, has, I think,
lost less by the imperfections of education,
than most young persons lose. He has run
smoothly over the customary course, learning
the little that can be learnt in it, with such
readiness, that acquisition has not been to him
an irksome labor, nor absence from his teachers,
liberation from prison. He has none
of the disgust for study, which is so often
the strongest impression brought away from
school. Besides, with the will and opportunity,
a young man of twenty can, in a great
measure, make up for early deficiencies.” | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 17 | Author: | Caruthers
William Alexander
1802-1846 | Add | | | Title: | The Kentuckian in New-York, Or, the Adventures of Three Southerns | | | | 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: | Towards the latter part of the summer of 18—,
on one of those cool, delightful, and invigorating
mornings which are frequent in the southern regions
of the United States, there issued from the
principal hotel on the valley-side of Harper's Ferry
two travellers, attended by a venerable and stately
southern slave. The experienced eye of the old
ferryman, as he stood in his flat-bottomed boat
awaiting the arrival of this party, discovered at
once that our travellers were from the far South. “Five long years have we lived under the same
roof, pursued the same studies, or rather the same
studies pursued us;—engaged in the same dissipation,
drank of the same sour wine, shed the same
vinous tears, discussed the same dinners and suppers,
enjoyed the same dances,—stag dances, I
mean,—played the same music, belonged to the
same society, and, I was going to say, fallen in love
with the same nymphs; but that brings me to the
subject of this letter. I am in for it! Yes, you
may well look surprised! It is a fact! Who is
the lady? you ask. I will tell you,—that is, if I can;
her name is St. Clair. O! she is the most lovely,
modest, weeping, melancholy, blue-eyed, fairhaired,
and mysterious little creature you ever
beheld. If you could only see her bend that white
neck, and rest her head upon that small hand, her
eye lost in profound thought, until the lower lid
just overflows, and a tear steals gently down that
most lovely cheek; and then see her start up
stealthily to join again in the conversation, with
the most innocent consciousness of guilt imaginable;
—but what is it that brings these tears to sadden
the heart of one so youthful and so innocent?
`There's the rub,' as Hamlet says. Yourself,
Lamar, and I were unanimous, as you perhaps
remember, that men generally suffer in proportion
to their crimes, even in this world. I here renounce
that opinion, with all others founded upon
college logic. A half-taught college boy, in the
pride of his little learning and stubborn opinions, is
little better than an innocent. But, you ought to
see this fair sufferer in order fully to appreciate
the foregoing opinion. You would see child-like
innocence—intelligence—benevolence; in short,
all that is good, in her sad but lovely countenance. “Thus far I have flown before the wind—sand,
I should have said. At any rate, here I am, in this
town of German religionists. Here dwells the first
unanimous people I have ever seen. They are
Moravians; and every thing is managed by this
little community for the common benefit. They
have one tavern, one store, one doctor, one tanner,
one potter, and so on in every trade or occupation.
Besides these, they have a church, and a
flourishing female seminary. The latter is conducted
upon the utilitarian plan—each lady, in turn,
has to perform the offices of cook, laundress, and
gardener; and, I need hardly say, that it is admirably
conducted. After I had visited all these
establishments — for every respectable looking
stranger is waited upon by some one appointed for
that purpose to conduct him thither,—I returned
to the large, cool, and comfortable inn, and had
scarcely seated myself to enjoy the comforts of
nicotiana, when a small billet was handed to me
by a handsomely dressed and polite black servant
with a glazed hat, which not a little astonished me,
you may be sure. I had not a living acquaintance
in the whole state that I knew of; except, indeed,
old Father Bagby, the master of ceremonies to the
little community. It could not be a challenge
from some Hans Von Puffenburg of these quiet
burghers: so I concluded it must be a billetdoux
from some of the beautiful creatures at the
seminary on the hill. You can easily imagine,
therefore, that I was no long time in tearing it
open; when, behold! it was, in good truth, from a
lady. Can you guess who? No. Then take the
note itself entire. “ `If, as I believe, you are the same Mr. Randolph
who was a room and class-mate of my son
Victor Chevillere, in college, I will be very glad
to see you. The servant will show you to our little
parlour. “ `I am the luckiest dog alive,' said I, jumping
nearly over the negro's head. `Is your young
mistress here also.' “I TOLD you in my last of our surprise at the
little coincidence of the number on the card, and
that on the house where the lady alighted, with
whom Lamar had exchanged some intelligent
glances in her more girlish days; but I did not
complete the relation, which I will do presently. “The day being Sunday, I sent old Cato this
morning to arouse Lamar quite early, in order to
ascertain if he was disposed to walk before breakfast,
and view some of the boasted parks, groves,
and gardens of these hospitable Gothamites. Old
Cato soon returned, saying that Lamar had but
that moment fallen asleep, but that he would be
with me as soon as he could make a hasty toilet;
hasty it indeed was, for he was not many minutes
behind Cato, in his morning-gown and slippers,
yawning and stretching his clenched fists through
the room as if he had sat in his chair all night. “10 o'clock P. M. “Events which seem to me worth recording,
crowd upon us so fast now, that it is almost impossible
to give you, according to promise, even a
profile view of our movements. “I have seen her, Randolph, and seen her far
more captivating and beautiful than ever! | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 18 | Author: | Caruthers
William Alexander
1802-1846 | Add | | | Title: | The Kentuckian in New-York, Or, the Adventures of Three Southerns | | | | 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: | “You will be surprised to learn that this letter
is written in bed, on a large old portfolio of yours,
while I am propped up with chairs and pillows behind;
all during the doctor's absence, and against
the urgent entreaties of the whole house. “The change in Virginia's deportment has been
to me a curious subject of study and reflection. I
dare not say that it has been entirely disinterested
study, but perhaps it was none the less close and
minute on that account. We are apt to investigate
those engines which operate upon ourselves
very philosophically. But before I go any farther,
permit me to correct an error into which I fear
I have led you, because I had honestly fallen into
it myself. I stated to you that my sickness had
cast out devils for me, and that I was altogether a
changed and reformed man. It is no such thing;
I feel the devil of mischief and fun in me even
now. It was nothing more than a natural depression
of animal spirits, consequent upon the low
state of my stomach and pulsations. The doctor
was my priest on the occasion. He subdued the
old Adam in me for a time, by the assistance of
his lancet and the whole vegetable and mineral
kingdom, worked up into shot and bullets vulgarly
called pills, by the aid of which these same doctors,
I believe, often do a deal of execution; at all
events this disciple fleeced me of a goodly quantity
of the flesh upon my ribs; none of his shot
happened to be mortal; but, nevertheless, I would
advise you to keep out of the reach of their magazines.
The muzzle of a pill-box is as terrible to
me now, as the mysterious dark hole in the end of
a forty-two-pounder; and a blister-plaster as awful
as an army with banners. As for cupping-glasses
and scarificators, they are neither more nor less
than instruments of torture, borrowed from the
Spanish inquisition. But above all, deliver me
from the point of a seton-needle! Did you ever
see a cruel boy string fish on a stick before they
were dead? He runs the stick through the gills,
tearing and torturing as it goes; so do these disciples
of Esculapius; they seize a piece of your
skin, no matter how scarce the article may be,—
no matter if your lips do not cover your teeth, and
the bones of your nose look white through the attenuated
sheath! Away goes this surgical bayonet
through a handful of it, armed with a piece of gum
elastic, which is left sticking there, the sensation on
the back of your neck being as if the ramrod of a
small swivel had been shot through it; and there
you must sit, or stand, or lie, with this huge thing
all the while poking your head forward, as if you
had a pillory on your back. “I have deferred the closing of this letter a day
longer than I intended when I penned the above.
The fact is, I was not so much in the humour for
writing as I expected. I was compelled to order
your horse and take my first ride, and you may be
sure that I did not restrain his mettle. What
would you argue from this? That I was successful?
or defeated? I should suppose neither, from
that circumstance alone, say you,—as you would
be apt to ride down your impetuosity in either
case. `They tell me hereabouts you're married. Well,
hurrah for old Kentuck, I say, and her sister Carolina.
I'm married, too! yes, and I believe everybody's
married, nearabouts, as far as I can learn.
It's twisted strange, ain't it, when a feller gets half
corned,[5]
[5]Western term for drunk.
everybody reels round; and when a feller
gets married, everybody else should get married
just at that particular time. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 19 | Author: | Caruthers
William Alexander
1802-1846 | Add | | | Title: | The Cavaliers of Virginia, Or, the Recluse of Jamestown | | | | 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 romance of history pertains to no human
annals more strikingly than to the early settlement
of Virginia. The mind of the reader at once
reverts to the names of Raleigh, Smith, and Pocahontas.
The traveller's memory pictures in a
moment the ivy-mantled ruin of old Jamestown. Sir—I seize the first moment of your appearance
in public, restored to health, to demand the
satisfaction due for the grievous insult put upon
me, on the night of the Anniversary Celebration,
16*
in presence of the assembled gentry of the Colony.
All proper arrangements will be made by my
friend Ludwell, who will also await your answer.
I have the honour to be your most obedient servant, Sir—Your note by the hands of Mr. Ludwell
was this moment received. Your challenge is accepted.
To-morrow morning at sunrise I will
meet you. The length of my weapon will be
furnished by my friend Dudley, who will convey
this to Mr. Ludwell, as well as make all other
arrangements on my behalf. I have the honour
to be, yours, &c. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 20 | Author: | Caruthers
William Alexander
1802-1846 | Add | | | Title: | The Cavaliers of Virginia, Or, the Recluse of Jamestown | | | | 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 lightning streamed athwart the heavens
in quick and vivid flashes. One peal of thunder
after another echoed from cliff to cliff, while a
driving storm of rain, wind and hail, made the
face of nature black and dismal. There was something
frightfully congenial in this uproar of the
contending elements with the storm raging in Bacon's
heart, as he rushed from the scene of the
catastrophe we have just witnessed. The darkness
which succeeded the lurid and sulphureous
flashes was not more complete and unfathomable
than the black despair of his own soul.
These vivid contrasts of light and gloom were
the only stimulants of which he was susceptible,
and they were welcomed as the light of his path!
By their guidance he wildly rushed to his stable,
saddled, led forth, and mounted his noble charger,
his own head still uncovered. For once the gallant
animal felt himself uncontrolled master of his
movements, fleet as the wind his nimble heels
measured the narrow limits of the island. A sudden
glare of intense light served for an instant to
reveal both to horse and rider that they stood upon
the brink of the river, and a single indication of the
rider's will was followed by a plunge into the
troubled waves. Nobly and majestically he rose
and sank with the swelling surges. His master
sat erect in the saddle and felt his benumbed faculties
revived, as he communed with the storm.
The raging elements appeared to sympathize with
the tumult of his own bosom. He laughed in horrid
unison with the gambols of the lightning, and
yelled with savage delight as the muttering thunder
rolled over his head. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
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