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University of Virginia Library, Text collection (119)
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1Author:  unknownAdd
 Title:  History of Virginia  
 Published:  2006 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text 
 Description: "I send you herewith two `pledges', to sign one and have the party nominee for your county to sign the other one, and return to me, and I will forward them to General Mahone, who directed me to do this.
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2Author:  unknownAdd
 Title:  History of Virginia  
 Published:  2006 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text 
 Description: Eppa Hunton, Jr., began the practice of law in 1877, and his time and talents were largely concentrated upon the law and related activities until he accepted the post of president of the Richmond, Fredericksburg and Potomac Railroad. Richmond has been his home since 1901. His grandfather was Col. Eppa Hunton, and his father, General Eppa Hunton, and all these and other members of the family have been since Colonial times among Virginia's distinguished men of affairs, lawyers, soldiers and statesmen. "Headquarters Thirtieth Division, Camp Jackson, South Carolina, April 7, 1919. While in charge of a 37-mm gun section in advance of the assaulting troops, Lieutenant Menefee displayed unusual courage, operating the gun himself after his gunners had been killed, thereby reducing a machine-gun nest which had been holding up the line. You are hereby authorized to present this cross to First Lieutenant Marvin James Menefee, in the name of the commander-in-chief.
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3Author:  Read Thomas Buchanan 1822-1872Add
 Title:  Paul Redding  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: The Brandywine river may be observed, at one time, winding slowly, in its silvery silence, through richly-pastured farms; or running broad and rippling over its beautiful bed of pearly shells and golden pebbles, (with which it toys and sings as merrily as an innocent-hearted child,) until its waters contract and roll heavily and darkly beneath the grove of giant oaks, elms and sycamores; but soon, like the sullen flow of a dark heart, it breaks angrily over the first obstruction. Thus you may see the Brandywine, at one point, boiling savagely over a broken bed of rocks, until its thick sheets of foam slide, like an avalanche of snow, into a deep pool, where it sends up a whispering voice, like that which pervades a rustling audience when the drop-curtain has shed its folds upon a scene that, like the “Ancient Mariner,” has held each ear and eye as with a magic spell. “You have been a wanderer in the world; so have I. Wherever you have been, there have I been, also. I have been near you a thousand times when you little guessed it. But all that is passed. The time has arrived. Enclosed among these papers you will find that which will make you independent of the world. The property is mostly yours; but you are not alone; there are those who will be dependent upon you; fail not to do your duty by them — love them as you should love those nearest and dearest to you. This letter is only to prepare you for the perusal of others of deeper importance; you will find them all at your command, and as you read them, O, curse me not! but weep that humanity should fall so far; then pray that God may cleanse the blood-stained soul, and forgive, (yes, Paul, it is true!) your dying father!
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4Author:  Rowson Mrs. 1762-1824Add
 Title:  The inquisitor, or, Invisible rambler  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: I Should like to know the certainty of it, said I, putting the petition into my pocket.—It contained an account of an unfortunate tradesman reduced to want, with a wife and three small children.—He asked not charity for himself, but them.—I should like to know the certainty of it, said I—there are so many feigned tales of distress, and the world is so full of duplicity, that in following the dictates of humanity we often encourage idleness.—Could I but be satisfied of the authenticity of this man's story, I would do something for him. Poor fellow! said I, looking at him with an eye of compassion as he went out of the apartment —Poor fellow! thou hast been hardly used by one man who called himself a Christian, and it makes thee suspect the whole race—But, surely, said I, it is not a man's barely prosessing Christianity that makes him worthy that character; a man must behave with humanity, not only to his fellow-creatures, but to the animal creation, before he can be ranked with propriety among that exalted class of mortals. It was on a fine evening, the latter end of May, when tired with the fatigues of the day, for she was a milliner's apprentice, Annie obtained leave of her mistress to walk out for a little air.—Her mistress had a shop which she occupied, and frequently visited during the summer season, situated on the banks of the Thames.
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5Author:  Rowson Mrs. 1762-1824Add
 Title:  The fille de chambre  
 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: “But who knows, my dear father,” cried Rebecca Littleton, laying her hand on that of her father, “who knows but something yet may be done to reward a veteran grown grey in his country's service?”
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6Author:  Sigourney L. H. (Lydia Howard) 1791-1865Add
 Title:  Myrtis  
 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: Twilight gathered heavily over the city of the Cæsars. Lights began here and there to glimmer from the patrician palaces, and along the banks of the Tiber. Rome, which Augustus boasted to have left built of marble, had lost none of its magnificence under Adrian and the Antonines. Effeminacy and corruption were sapping the foundations of the empire, though the virtue of the last of the Antonines still arrested or disguised the presages of its doom.
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7Author:  Simms William Gilmore 1806-1870Add
 Title:  Carl Werner  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
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8Author:  Simms William Gilmore 1806-1870Add
 Title:  Carl Werner  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
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9Author:  Simms William Gilmore 1806-1870Add
 Title:  Pelayo  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
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10Author:  Simms William Gilmore 1806-1870Add
 Title:  Pelayo  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
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11Author:  Simms William Gilmore 1806-1870Add
 Title:  The damsel of Darien  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: “Nothing,” remarks a distinguished modern writer of our own country, “could be more chivalrous, urbane and charitable; nothing more pregnant with noble sacrifices of passion and interest, with magnanimous instances of forgiveness of injuries, and noble contests of generosity, than the transactions of the Spanish discoverers of America with each other:—” he adds—“it was with the Indians alone that they were vindictive, blood-thirsty, and implacable.” In other words, when dealing with their equals—with those who could strike hard and avenge,—they forbore offence and injury; to the feeble and unoffending, alone, they were cruel and unforgiving. Such being the case, according to the writer's own showing, the eulogium upon their chivalry, charity, and urbanity, is in very doubtful propriety, coming from the lips of a Christian historian; and our charity would be as singularly misplaced as his, were we to suffer its utterance unquestioned. But the alleged characteristics of these Spanish adventurers in regard to their dealings with each other, are any thing but true, according to our readings of history; and with all deference to the urbane and usually excellent authority referred to, we must be permitted, in this place, to record our dissent from his conclusions. It will not diminish, perhaps, but rather elevate the character of these discoverers, to show that their transactions with each other were, with a few generous exceptions, distinguished by a baseness and vindictiveness quite as shameless and unequivocal as marked their treatment of the Indians:—that nearly every departure from their usual faithlessness of conduct, was induced by fear, by favour, or the hope of ultimate reward;—that, devouring the Indians for their treasure, they scrupled not to exhibit a like rapacity towards their own comrades, in its attainment, or upon its division; and that, in short, a more inhuman, faithless, blood-thirsty and unmitigated gang of savages never yet dishonoured the name of man or debased his nature. The very volume which contains the eulogy upon which we comment—Irving's “Companions of Columbus,”—a misnomer, by the way, since none of them were, or could be, properly speaking, his companions— abounds in testimonies which refute and falsify it. The history of these “companions” is a history of crime and perfidy from the beginning; of professions made without sincerity, and pledges violated without scruple; of crimes committed without hesitation, and, seemingly, without remorse; of frauds perpetrated upon the confiding, and injuries inflicted without number upon the defenceless; and these, too, not in their dealings merely with the natives, for these they only destroyed, but in their intercourse with their own comrades; with those countrymen to whom nature and a common interest should have bound them, to the fullest extent of their best abilities and strongest sympathies; but whom they did not scruple to plunder and abuse, at the instance of motives the most mercenary and dishonourable. With but a few, and those not very remarkable exceptions, all the doings of this “ocean chivalry” are obnoxious to these reproaches. It is enough, in proof, to instance the fortunes of Cortes, Ojeda, Ponce de Leon, Balboa, Nienesa, Pizarro, Almagro, and the “great admiral” himself; most of them hostile to each other, and all of them victims to the slavish, selfish hates and festering jealousies, the base avarice, and scarcely less base ambition of the followers whom they led to wealth, and victory, and fame. Like most fanatics, who are generally the creatures of vexing and variable moods, rather than of principle and a just desire for renown, none of them, with the single exception of Columbus, seem to have been above the force of circumstances, which moved them hourly, as easily to a disregard of right, as to a fearlessness of danger. At such periods they invariably proved themselves indifferent to all the ties of country, to all the sentiments of affection, to all the laws of God: a mere blood-thirsty soldiery, drunk with the frequent indulgence of a morbid appetite, and as utterly indifferent, in their frenzy, to their sworn fellowships as to the common cause. Of the whole chivalry of this period and nation, but little that is favourable can be said. That they were brave and fearless, daring and elastic, cannot be denied. But here eulogium must cease. From the bigot monarch upon the throne, to the lowest soldier serving under his banner, they seem all to have been without faith. The sovereign had no scruple, when interest moved him and occasion served, to break the pledges which he might not so easily evade; and the morals of his people furnished no reproachful commentary upon the laxity of his own. Let us but once close our eyes upon the bold deeds and uncalculating courage of these warriors, and the picture of their performances becomes one loaded with infamy and shame. The mind revolts from the loathsome spectacle of perfidy and brute-baseness which every where remains; and it is even a relief, though but a momentary one, once more to look upon the scene of strife, and forget, as we are but too apt to do, in the gallant passage of arms, the meanness and the malice of him who delights us with his froward valour, and astounds us with admiration of his skill and strength. The relief is but transient, however, and the next moment reveals to us a reenactment of the sin and the shame, from which the bravest and the boldest among them could not long maintain the “whiteness of their souls.”
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12Author:  Simms William Gilmore 1806-1870Add
 Title:  The damsel of Darien  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: With the first beams of the morning sun, the Indian warriors of Zemaco, a wild and motly armament, prepared to descend from the mountains into the plain, or rather valley, in which lay the Spanish settlement of Darien. More than five thousand men, detachments from a hundred tribes, which acknowledged the sovereignty of Zemaco, were assembled under the lead of this vindictive chief. They gathered at his summons from the province of Zobayda, where the golden temple of their worship stood, and which they esteemed to be the visible dwelling of their God; Abibeyba, Zenu, and many other provinces, the several cassiques of which, though not present with the quotas which they provided, were yet required by Zemaco to hold themselves in readiness to defend their territories from the incursions of the Spaniards. The hills that rose on three sides of the Spanish settlement were darkened with savage warriors. Exulting in the certainty of victory, they brandished their macanas of palm wood, and shot their arrows upward in defiance, while they sounded their war conchs for the general gathering. Never, in his whole career of sway and conquest, had the proud mountain chief at one time, assembled so vast a host. Their numbers, their known valour, the great strength of their bodies, and the admirable skill with which they swung aloft the club or sent the arrow to its mark, filled his bosom with a vain confidence in his own superiority, which the better taught Caonabo earnestly endeavoured to qualify and caution. But his counsels fell upon unwilling ears, and it was soon apparent to the latter that the prudence which he commended had the effect of diminishing his own courage in the estimation of his hearers. Once assured of this, the mortified Caonabo sank back to his little command, patiently resolved to await events, and remove any doubts on this head, of the Cassique of Darien, by the actual proofs of his prowess, which he was determined to display upon the field.
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13Author:  Simms William Gilmore 1806-1870Add
 Title:  Border beagles  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: The little town of Raymond, in the state of Mississippi, was in the utmost commotion. Court-day was at hand, and nothing was to be heard but the hum of preparation for that most important of all days in the history of a country village—that of general muster alone excepted. Strange faces and strange dresses began to show themselves in the main street; lawyers were entering from all quarters—“saddlebag” and “sulky” lawyers—men who cumber themselves with no weight of law, unless it can be contained in moderately-sized heads, or valise, or saddle-bag, of equally moderate dimensions. Prowling sheriff's officers began to show their hands again, after a ten or twenty days' absence in the surrounding country, where they had gone to the great annoyance of simple farmers, who contract large debts to the shop-keeper on the strength of crops yet to be planted, which are thus wasted on changeable silks for the spouse, and whistle-handled whips for “Young Hopeful” the only son and heir to possession, which, in no long time will be heard best of under the auctioneer's hammer. The population of the village was increasing rapidly; and what with the sharp militia colonel, in his new box coat, squab white hat, trim collar and high-heeled boots, seeking to find favour in the regiment against the next election for supplying the brigadier's vacancy; the swaggering planter to whom certain disquieting hints of foreclosure have been given, which he can evade no longer, and which he must settle as he may; the slashing overseer, prime for cockfight or quarterrace, and not unwilling to try his own prowess upon his neighbour, should occasion serve and all other sports fail; the pleading and impleaded, prosecutor and prosecuted, witnesses and victims,—Raymond never promised more than at present to swell beyond all seasonable boundaries, and make a noise in the little world round it. Court-day is a day to remember in the West, either for the parts witnessed or the parts taken in the various performances; and whether the party be the loser of an eye or ear, or has merely helped another to the loss of both, the case is still pretty much the same; the event is not usually forgotten. The inference was fair that there would be a great deal of this sort of prime brutality performed at the present time. Among the crowd might be seen certain men who had already distinguished themselves after this manner, and who strutted and swaggered from pillar to post, as if conscious that the eyes of many were upon them, either in scorn or admiration. Notoriety is a sort of fame which the vulgar mind essentially enjoys beyond any other; and we are continually reminded, while in the crowd, of the fellow in the play, who says he “loves to be contemptible.” Some of these creatures had lost an eye, some an ear, others had their faces scarred with the strokes of knives; and a close inspection of others might have shown certain tokens about their necks, which testified to bloody ground fights, in which their gullets formed an acquaintance with the enemy's teeth, not over-well calculated to make them desire new terms of familiarity. Perhaps, in most cases, these wretches had only been saved from just punishment by the humane intervention of the spectators—a humanity that is too often warmed into volition, only when the proprietor grows sated with the sport. At one moment the main street in Raymond was absolutely choked by the press of conflicting vehicles. Judge Bunkell's sulky hitched wheels with the carriage of Col. Fishhawk, and squire Dickens' bran new barouche, brought up from Orleans only a week before, was “staved all to flinders”—so said our landlady—“agin the corner of Joe Richards' stable.” The 'squire himself narrowly escaped the very last injury in the power of a fourfooted beast to inflict, that is disposed to use his hoofs heartily—and, bating an abrasion of the left nostril, which diminished the size, if it did not, as was the opinion of many, impair the beauty of the member, Dickens had good reason to congratulate himself at getting off with so little personal damage. These, however, were not the only mishaps on this occasion. There were other stories of broken heads, maims and injuries, but whether they grew out of the unavoidable concussion of a large crowd in a small place, or from a great natural tendency to broken heads on the part of the owners, it scarcely falls within our present purpose to inquire. A jostle in a roomy region like the west, is any thing but a jostle in the streets of New York. There you may tilt the wayfarer into the gutter, and the laugh is against the loser, it being a sufficient apology for taking such a liberty with your neighbour's person, that “business is business, and must be attended to.” Every man must take care of himself and learn to push with the rest, where all are in a hurry. But he brooks the stab who jostles his neighbour where there is no such excuse; and the stab is certain where he presumes so far with his neighbour's wife, or his wife's daughter, or his sister. There's no pleading that the city rule is to “take the right hand” —he will let you know that the proper rule is to give way to the weak and feeble—to women, to age, to infancy. This is the manly rule among the strong, and a violation of it brings due punishment in the west. Jostling there is a dangerous experiment, and for this very reason, it is frequently practised by those who love a row and fear no danger. It is one of the thousand modes resorted to for compelling the fight of fun—the conflict which the rowdy seeks from the mere love of tumult, and in the excess of overheated blood.
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14Author:  Simms William Gilmore 1806-1870Add
 Title:  Border beagles  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: The hour was late when the strong-minded maiden, Rachel Morrison, reached her apartments. The family, guests and all, had retired to their several chambers for the night; and in the silent review which she made of the scene she had just witnessed, a most annoying conviction rose in her mind of the probable danger awaiting the young traveller, Vernon, who, she knew, had appointed to resume his journey on the morrow. She recollected the promise of one of the robbers (Saxon) to join him on the road; and this promise she naturally construed into a resolution to assail him. To warn him of his danger was her first impulse, but how was this to be done? It was impossible that she should seek him then; it was scarcely proper, indeed, that she should seek him at any time, and to communicate her warning to Walter Rawlins—the most easy and natural mode—was to prompt his inquiries into other particulars of her knowledge, which she was not yet prepared to unfold. She dreaded the prying mind of her lover, and doubted her own strength to refuse him that knowledge which was effectually to blast and destroy the son of her protector. The conflict in her mind kept her wakeful, and at the dawn of day she was dressed, and anxiously on the watch for that stir in the household which might denote the preparations of the traveller. To her great joy she heard footsteps in the adjoining passage, which she knew to be those of Rawlins. She went forth and joined him.
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15Author:  Simms William Gilmore 1806-1870Add
 Title:  The kinsmen, or, The black riders of Congaree  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: The colonies of North America, united in resistance to the mother country, had now closed the fifth year of their war of independence. The scene of conflict was now almost wholly transferred from the northern to the southern colonies. The former were permitted a partial repose, while the latter, as if to compensate for a three years' respite, were subjected to the worst aspects and usages of war. Georgia and South Carolina were supposed by the British commanders to be entirely recovered to the sway of their master. They suffered, in consequence, the usual fortune of the vanquished. But the very suffering proved that they lived, and the struggle for freedom was continued. Her battles, “Once begun, Bequeathed from bleeding sire to son, Though often lost,” were never considered by her friends in Carolina to be utterly hopeless. Still, they had frequent occasion to despair. Gates, the successful commander at Saratoga, upon whose great renown and feeble army the hopes of the south, for a season, appeared wholly to depend, had suffered a terrible defeat at Camden—his militia scattered to the four winds of Heaven—his regulars almost annihilated in a conflict with thrice their number, which, for fierce encounter and determined resolution, has never been surpassed;—while he, himself, a fugitive, covered with shame and disappointment, vainly hung out his tattered banner in the wilds of North Carolina—a colony sunk into an apathy which as effectually paralysed her exertions, as did the presence of superior power paralyse those of her more suffering sisters. Conscious of indiscretion and a most fatal presumption—the punishment of which had been as sudden as it was severe—the defeated general suffered far less from apprehension of his foes, than of his country. He had madly risked her strength, at a perilous moment, in a pitched battle, for which he had made no preparation —in which he had shown neither resolution nor ability. The laurels of his old renown withered in an instant—his reputation was stained with doubt, if not with dishonour. He stood, anxious and desponding, awaiting, with whatever moral strength he could command, the summons to that tribunal of his peers, upon which depended all the remaining honours of his venerable head.
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16Author:  Simms William Gilmore 1806-1870Add
 Title:  The kinsmen, or, The black riders of Congaree  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: We have omitted, in the proper place, to record certain events that happened, during the progress of the conflict, in order that nothing should retard the narrative of that event. But, ere it had reached its termination, and while its results were in some measure doubtful, a new party came upon the scene, who deserves our attention and commanded that of the faithful woodman. A cry—a soft but piercing cry—unheard by either of the combatants, first drew the eye of the former to the neighbouring wood from which it issued; and simultaneously, a slender form darted out of the cover, and hurried forward in the direction of the strife. Bannister immediately put himself in readiness to prevent any interference between the parties; and, when he saw the stranger pushing forward, and wielding a glittering weapon in his grasp, as he advanced, he rushed from his own concealment, and threw himself directly in the pathway of the intruder. The stranger recoiled for an instant, while Bannister commanded him to stand.
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17Author:  Simms William Gilmore 1806-1870Add
 Title:  The prima donna  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: I had changed my lodgings, seeking shelter in the suburbs, from the crowd and confusion of Broadway and the Park. The omnibus, at a shilling a ride, enabled me, while enjoying a seclusion akin to that of country life, to seek the city at any moment when pleasure or business called me thither. The second morning after my transition, I suffered myself to look round upon my new neighbourhood. I found myself in very good quarters for a single man. Our house was well arranged and spacious. It stood apart from all others, while, on either hand, the green of a well-stored vegetable garden gratified the eye, and the breezes from two quarters of the compass poured in at my windows. We were just in advance of the onward march of city improvements. Our pavements were incomplete, and the clang and clamour of cart, cab and carriage, were moderate accordingly, when compared with the stunning sounds with which they momently assailed me in Broadway. But, as if to qualify this advantage, there was just opposite, one of those annoyances which are to be found in the suburbs of every large city, in the shape of a cluster of low, crowded and filthy looking rookeries,—a nest of wooden structures, dingy, dark, narrow, and tumbling to decay, which still, however, gave shelter to a crowd of inmates. Every tenement of this nest, was filled from basement to attic;—the people were of the very poorest, and some of them, evidently, of the most dissolute, character. Rags and dirt were the conspicuous badges at every window, and no prospect could be more melancholy than that of the poor, puny, little children, who were despatched from rise of morn to set of sun, to glean, as beggars, from better furnished portions of the city, their daily supplies of pennies and “cold victuals.”
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18Author:  Simms William Gilmore 1806-1870Add
 Title:  Count Julian, or, The last days of the Goth  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: “It is in the mouths of many that Julian left his daughter, Cava, at the court of king Roderick, as he well knew the surpassing beauty of her charms, and as well the fierce passion of the king for such loveliness as hers. That he hath not erred in his expectations, is no less the rumor of the court. Cava, it is said, hath been distinguished by the king's eye; and the bruit is, that, though she hath lost in virtue, yet will the gain of Julian in high station be proportionate to her loss and great beyond his desire. Yet, though this be the speech of many who have integrity and speak not often idly, there are some who remember of the noble blood and proper pride of the Julian family, who, though they cannot gainsay the tidings of king Roderick's favor and of the frailty of the lady Cava, are yet unwilling to yield faith so readily to that which reports the willing pliance of Julian to his own dishonor. One of these, in his sorrow and his doubt, hath written these presents. He asks not for reply, since the deeds of the father, hereafter to be shown, will testify how far he hath been a party to the ruin of his child.” “Egiza—my lord, that should have been, had our hopes been blessed—farewell, farewell for ever. Hold me as one dead to thee, even if I be not dead to life. There is an impassable gulf between us. I cannot love thee, last I should debase thee by affections which can never more be hallowed. I cannot keep thy love, since such cannot belong or be given to those who are degraded. I cannot look upon thee, even if I live, since I feel my shame, and should dread to meet with favor in thy eyes. Yet, for the love which thou didst bear me, give me thy pity now; let thy prayers go up for one who has not so much sinned as suffered sin—whose weakness of body, not whose willingness of mind, has given her up—a most unhappy woman—to the brutal rage of a tyrant. I can speak no more. My cheeks, which have been cold and pale, like the unfeeling marble, now burn me as I write thee. I dare not say what I have suffered—thou wilt scarce dare to conceive it. Yet, think only that I I am lost to thee, to hope, to life, to myself, for ever, for ever, and thou wilt know cannot tell thee. Once more, my lord—my noble lord—once more I implore thy pity and thy prayers for the wretched
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19Author:  Simms William Gilmore 1806-1870Add
 Title:  Helen Halsey, or, The Swamp state of Conelachita  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: The unwise license and injurious freedoms accorded to youth in our day and country, will render it unnecessary to explain how it was that, with father and mother, a good homestead, and excellent resources, I was yet suffered at the early age of eighteen, to set out on a desultory and almost purposeless expedition, among some of the wildest regions of the South-West. It would be as unnecessary and, perhaps, much more difficult, to show what were my own motives in undertaking such a journey. A truant disposition, a love of adventure, or, possibly, the stray glances of some forest maiden, may all be assumed as good and sufficient reasons, to set a warm heart wandering, and provoke wild impulses in the blood of one, by nature impetuous enough, and, by education, very much the master of his own will. With a proud heart, hopeful of all things if thoughtless of any, as noble a steed as ever shook a sable mane over a sunny prairie, and enough money, liberally calculated, to permit an occasional extravagance, whether in excess or charity, I set out one sunny winter's morning from Leaside, our family place, carrying with me the tearful blessings of my mother, and as kind a farewell from my father, as could decently comport with the undisguised displeasure with which he had encountered the first expression of my wish to go abroad. Well might he disapprove of a determination which was so utterly without an object. But our discussion on this point need not be resumed. Enough, that, if “my path was all before me,” I was utterly without a guide. It was, besides, my purpose to go where there were few if any paths; regions as wild as they were pathless; among strange tribes and races; about whose erring and impulsive natures we now and then heard such tales of terror, and of wonder, as carried us back to the most venerable periods of feudal history, and seemed to promise us a full return and realization of their strangest and saddest legends. Of stories such as these, the boy sees only the wild and picturesque as pects,—such as are beautiful with a startling beauty—such as impress his imagination rather than his thoughts, and presenting the truth to his eyes through the medium of his fancies, divest it of whatever is coarse, or cold, or cruel, in its composition. It was thus that I had heard of these things, and thus that, instead of repelling, as they would have done, robbed of that charm of distance which equally beautifies in the moral as in the natural world, they invited my footsteps, and seduced me from the more appropriate domestic world in which my lot had been cast.
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20Author:  Simms William Gilmore 1806-1870Add
 Title:  Father Abbot, or, The home tourist  
 Published:  1997 
 Subjects:  University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 
 Description: The members of the Monastery—our merry Monks of the Moon—had accomplished a third rubber of whist, when it was perceptible that a general cloud of gravity—it would be irreverent to call it dulness—had fallen upon the assembly. Our excellent Father Abbot himself was detected in a most expansive yawn, showing an extremity of condition such as had never befallen him before. We had our Jester, but he failed, in a laboured effort, to provoke the merriment of the order at the expense of our venerable head; and we were fast sinking into that state of collapse, which betokens dissolution and departure in social as in human bodies, when our excellent Father Abbot startled the brotherhood into sudden vitality, by an exclamation as unnatural in his case as it was uncongenial with the faith professed by the fraternity.
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