| | 1 | Author: | Patton
John S.
(John Shelton)
1857-1932 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Jefferson, Cabell and the University of Virginia  | | | | Published: | 2005 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | Until the dawn of the eighteenth century education
in Virginia was a special privilege. It was for
clergymen and gentlemen,—distinct, as elements,—
while the sons of the common people, a term then in
frequent use, were well enough employed in making
tobacco. The planter who had Madeira in his
cellar almost certainly had a tutor in his library
for the intellectual behoof of his children; or he
sent his sons to Princeton or to the universities of
the mother country. The offspring of less fortunate
folk grew up in an atmosphere in which Madeira,
the clergy, and the pedagogue were little
known. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 4 | Author: | McGuire
Judith W.
(Judith White) | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Diary of a Southern Refugee During the War | | | | Published: | 2005 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | At Home, May 4, 1861.—I am too nervous, too wretched
to-day to write in my diary, but that the employment will
while away a few moments of this trying time. Our friends
and neighbors have left us. Every thing is broken up. The
Theological Seminary is closed; the High School dismissed.
Scarcely any one is left of the many families which surrounded
us. The homes all look desolate; and yet this beautiful
country is looking more peaceful, more lovely than ever, as
if to rebuke the tumult of passion and the fanaticism of
man. We are left lonely indeed; our children are all gone—
the girls to Clarke, where they may be safer, and farther
from the exciting scenes which may too soon surround
us; and the boys, the dear, dear boys, to the camp, to be
drilled and prepared to meet any emergency. Can it be
that our country is to be carried on and on to the horrors
of civil war? I pray, oh how fervently do I pray, that our
Heavenly Father may yet avert it. I shut my eyes and
hold my breath when the thought of what may come upon
us obtrudes itself; and yet I cannot believe it. It will, I
know the breach will be healed without the effusion of
blood. The taking of Sumter without bloodshed has somewhat
DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE.
soothed my fears, though I am told by those who are
wiser than I, that men must fall on both sides by the score,
by the hundred, and even by the thousand. But it is not
my habit to look on the dark side, so I try hard to employ
myself, and hope for the best. To-day our house seems so
deserted, that I feel more sad than usual, for on this morning
we took leave of our whole household. Mr. — and myself
are now the sole occupants of the house, which usually
teems with life. I go from room to room, looking at first
one thing and then another, so full of sad associations. The
closed piano, the locked bookcase, the nicely-arranged
tables, the formally-placed chairs, ottomans and sofas in the
parlor! Oh for some one to put them out of order! And
then the dinner-table, which has always been so well surrounded,
so social, so cheerful, looked so cheerless to-day, as
we seated ourselves one at the head, the other at the foot,
with one friend,—but one,—at the side. I could scarcely
restrain my tears, and but for the presence of that one
friend, I believe I should have cried outright. After dinner,
I did not mean to do it, but I could not help going into
the girls' room, and then into C.'s. I heard my own footsteps
so plainly, that I was startled by the absence of all
other sounds. There the furniture looked so quiet, the beds
so fixed and smooth, the wardrobes and bureaux so tightly
locked, and the whole so lifeless! But the writing-desks,
work-boxes, and the numberless things so familiar to my
eyes! Where were they? I paused, to ask myself what it
all meant. Why did we think it necessary to send off all
that was so dear to us from our own home? I threw open
the shutters, and the answer came at once, so mournfully!
I heard distinctly the drums beating in Washington. The
evening was so still that I seemed to hear nothing else. As
MAY, 1861.
I looked at the Capitol in the distance, I could scarcely
believe my senses. That Capitol of which I had always
been so proud! Can it be possible that it is no longer
our Capitol? And are our countrymen, under its very
eaves, making mighty preparation to drain our hearts' blood?
And must this Union, which I was taught to revere, be rent
asunder? Once I thought such a suggestion sacrilege; but
now that it is dismembered, I trust it may never, never be
röunited. We must be a separate people—our nationality
must be different, to insure lasting peace and good-will.
Why cannot we part in peace? "My dear —— :—For the last four days we have never
been longer than two hours in any one place, have slept
upon the ground in good weather and bad, eaten nothing
but crackers and fried bacon, and rested little at any time;
for all of which privations and a thousand others we have
been more than compensated (thanks to the just God who
governs the councils of history and decrees the destiny of
nations) in the glorious results of yesterday. On the morning
of the 17th, we had received reliable information that
the enemy was advancing, over 50,000 strong, and were not
surprised, at five o'clock in the morning, to hear the fire of
our pickets, who were slowly retiring before the advancing
DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE.
foe. The order was given to pack. In ten minutes baggage
was packed, tents struck, and the wagons driven to
the rear; and the whole command forward to line of battle.
In a few minutes the glittering bayonets of the enemy lined
the neighbouring hills. From the heavy signal-guns being
fired at intervals along our line—commencing at German
town and stretching along to Fairfax Court-House—it wa
evident that the enemy was endeavouring to surround ou
little band; but our "Little Trump," as the men call
Beauregard, was not to be taken by any such game. Every
preparation was made to deceive the enemy, by inducing
him to believe that we meditated a vigorous resistance
Meantime our column defiled through a densely wooded
road, and was far on the way to Centreville when the enemy
discovered his mistake. He followed on very cautiously.
To our troop, with Kemper's Battery, was assigned the
post of honour, and charged with the duty of covering the
retreat. We were the last to leave the village, and as we
went out at one end of the street, his column appeared at
the other. We halted at this place about four o'clock in
the afternoon, and again made show of battle—slept until
twelve o'clock at the heads of our horses. We silently left
the place, the enemy's pickets being within hailing distance
of our own. At daybreak we were across Bull Run, having
marched very slowly to keep pace with the infantry. We
found beds of leaves in the woods, wrapped ourselves in our
blankets, and slept for an hour or two, until we were aroused
by the roar of the enemy's guns as he opened his batteries
upon our lines. For two mortal hours shot and shell flew
thick along our whole line. This day's work was evidently
intended only to draw the fire of our artillery, and show
where our batteries were. In consequee of which our
SEPTEMBER, 1861.3*
gunners were ordered not to fire a single shot, unless within
point-blank range. After thus opening the ball, two dense
masses of infantry were sent to defile to the right and left,
to make two separate attacks. It was indeed a beautiful
sight as they came down in perfect order, and with the
stealthy step of veterans. They came nearer and yet
nearer, and yet no shot from our guns. Our men began to
mutter, and say that we were preparing for another retreat.
But in a few moments the appointed time arrived. A single
shot from the Washington Artillery gave the signal of
death, and for half an hour there was nothing but a continuous
sheet of flame along the right of our lines. The
enemy fell back, rallied, and charged again, with a like
result. Again they rested, and rushed forward, but old
Virginia was true to herself, and the gallant Seventeenth
and Eighteenth Regiments charged them with the bayonet,
and drove them back in utter confusion. The cavalry were
held in reserve, and although within range of the artillery,
and constantly experiencing the sensation which men may
be supposed to indulge, who know there is a hidden danger
hovering in the air, without knowing where it is to light,
took no part in the action. Our time came yesterday, however.
Our troop was for four hours in the hottest of the
fight, and every man in it won the applause and approbation
of the whole camp. The action commenced at eight o'clock
on the sweet Sabbath morning. The enemy commenced
with quite a heavy cannonade upon our right, which proved
to be a mere feint, to distract our attention, as his main
attack was directed to our left wing. At ten o'clock the
enemy had crossed the river on our left, and then the fighting
commenced in earnest. From the hill on which we
stood, we could see, from the smoke and dust, though at
DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE.
the distance of several miles, how the fight was waging on
our left. Some thought the enemy was retreating; others
that our men had fallen back. It was an hour of painful
interest. At eleven o'clock an aid-de-camp rode up in a
gallop, and said our men were retiring—the cavalry was
ordered to the left. We were temporarily attached to Radford's
regiment—ours was the first company, and mine was
the first platoon. On we dashed in a gallop, and as we
passed within range of a battery of rifled cannon a ball
was fired at us which passed between Wickham and myself,
knocking up a cloud of dust. Without wavering in their
ranks, the men and horses dashed forward at a gallop. As
we reached the scene of action the sight was discouraging
in the extreme. The enemy had at first the advantage of
every attacking party. He had concentrated his forces for
an attack upon one point. The First Louisiana Regiment
and the Fourth Alabama, attacked in flank and centre by
30,000 men, were literally cut to pieces. They refused to
surrender, but retired slowly, disputing every inch of ground.
As we rode up we could meet parts of companies which had
been utterly overwhelmed—the men wounded, their arms
broken, while some of them were carrying off their dead in
blankets. Every thing looked like retreat. We were ordered
up to within five hundred yards of the enemy's artillery,
behind a hill which afforded some protection against
their destructive fire. For one hour the fire raged with
incessant fury. A ball passed over the hill and through our
ranks, grazing one of our men. A shell exploded just
under Radford's horse, and every minute shot and shell
were continually whistling by us. I can give you no conception
of that awful hour. Not a man shrank from his
post. Two of our men were taken exceedingly sick, one
SEPTEMBER, 1861.
fainting from the heat and excitement. Such calmness and
composure I never witnessed. To make the matter worse,
despondency, if not despair, was fast writing itself upon
every face. The fire was evidently approaching us. Our
friends were retiring, and the whispered rumour passed from
lip to lip that our artillery ammunition was running low.
In a moment, however, a cloud of dust in our rear showed
the approach of our wagons, coming up at a dashing rate,
with a fresh supply. Our reinforcements now commenced
pouring in. Georgia, South Carolina, Alabama, Mississippi,
and Tennessee swept by in their glittering array with the
calm light of battle on their faces, and their bayonets gleaming
in the quiet Sabbath sunshine. No man faltered, no
man lagged behind. Neither the groans of the dying nor
the shrieks of the wounded, as they passed by in crowded
ambulances, seemed to produce any impression except to
fix the determination upon the countenances of all, to win
or to die upon the field. The tide now seemed to ebb, just
enough to keep us from despair. The firing did not advance,
although the explosion of their shells was terrific in the
extreme. A gleam of hope, too, gradually broke in upon
us, when Kemper's Battery, which had been posted in our
centre, galloped up and opened a destructive fire upon our
extreme left. The advance was evidently checked, when
a loud cheer in the front told us that something unusual
had happened. What was it? Was it the triumph of our
enemies over our poor stricken friends; or was it some
advantage gained by courage in defence of right? The
suspense was awful. Men stood straight in their stirrups
and stretched their eyes as if they could pierce the rugged
bosom of the barren hill which raised its scarred front
between them. An aid passed up. His message is written
DIARY OF A SOUTHERN REFUGEE.
on his face, and before he speaks a word a wild shout
breaks from the throats of thousands. When he speaks,
another, another and another round of cheers told the
story to our hitherto sinking hearts. The Fourth Virginia
Regiment had taken Sprague's Rhode Island Battery of
six pieces, at the point of the bayonet. Scarcely had the
echo of our cheers died away when again the noise of shouting
broke upon the air. What was it? Had the enemy
rallied and retaken the guns? Fear struggled with hope.
But no: the gallant Twenty-seventh, envious of the glorious
achievement of the Fourth, at a single dash had charged a
regiment of regulars, swept them from the field, and taken
every gun in Sherman's Battery.[See note at end of Book.]
The firing of musketry and the rattling of bayonets was
now terrible beyond description. For one hour there was
an incessant cracking of rifles, without a single moment's
pause. The enemy were evidently retiring, and unless
reinforced from the left and centre, the day was ours. "Through God's blessing, the enemy, near Port Republic,
was this day routed, with the loss of six pieces of
artillery. "To President Davis:—This army achieved to-day, on
the plains of Manassas, a signal victory over the combined
forces of McClellan and Pope. On the 28th and 29th,
each wing, under Generals Longstreet and Jackson, repulsed
with valour attacks made on them separately. We
mourn the loss of our gallant dead in every conflict, yet
our gratitude to Almighty God for his mercies rises higher
each day. To Him and to the valour of our troops a
nation's gratitude is due. "To the People of the Confederate States: | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 5 | Author: | Culbreth
David Marvel Reynolds
1856-1943 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The University of Virginia | | | | Published: | 2005 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | In my day at the University of Virginia one required only
a brief brushing up against the students, old and new, to be
convinced of their extraordinary knowledge of Mr. Jefferson,
as he was called always by us with a respect and pride approximating
filial veneration. Especially was this noticeable
in those coming from Virginia and in that contingent deeply
interested in the weekly debates of the Jeff. and Wash. Societies.
This to me was a sort of revelation, for of his greatness
I knew little, inasmuch as I had simply learned from school
histories that he was our third President; had occupied the
honorable position two terms; had represented the opposing
party to Washington, Adams, Hamilton, Marshall and Jay,
and had made more than an ordinary impression upon the
then civilized world during his many years of public service.
Among the small collection of books at my home was the
"Life of Jefferson," by Tucker, but of this I had only read
with profit that short portion in the second volume pertaining
to the founding of the University. In my first visit to the
library I gazed with admiration upon a beautiful white marble
statue (Galt's), enclosed by a high iron railing, whose rectangular
pedestal bore the inscription: | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 8 | Author: | Patton
John S.
(John Shelton)
1857-1932 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The University of Virginia | | | | Published: | 2005 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | An interesting story is that of how the University of Virginia grew
out of the idea of one man and became an accomplished fact after
more than fifty years of effort, which was often
The Occasion and
the Men.
interrupted by the public cares this leader of
thought and action sustained almost unintermittingly
through his long life. It brings into view the personality
of a young man recently returned from French and Italian universities
to engage in some work that would be of service to his people.
The occasion was at hand, and the right men for the task were met;
for Jefferson, who had the idea, and had thought out all of the details,
taking advantage in doing so of his unusual opportunities on both sides
of the Atlantic, was well fitted to be the director of this bold movement,
while Joseph Carrington Cabell, broadly educated and highly
endowed, was the man of his time the best suited to enter the arena,
champion the Jefferson idea, and secure statutory tangibleness for the
splendid scheme. Albemarle Academy would
The Early Professors.
call for a passing thought, though it never existed,
and Central College would require a
word, though its academe never resounded with student voices. The
first professors would afford an interesting hour, especially those who
had come over sea when ocean voyaging was attended with danger
and discomfort—Blaettermann, from "33 Castle street, Holborn," to
quote Mr. Jefferson, "a German who was acquainted with our countrymen
Ticknor and Preston, and was highly recommended by them;"
George Long, the Oxford graduate, "a small, delicate-looking blonde
It is the simple truth to say, without Joseph Carrington Cabell's persistent
labors in the legislature, his self-sacrifice and indomitable courage, his wonderful
political tact and unfailing diplomacy, Jefferson's idea would never have been
realized, at least in his lifetime. It was once publicly stated in the Virginia
Senate, in 1828, that in promoting "that monument of wisdom," the University,
Cabell was "second only to Jefferson."
—Dr. Herbert B. Adams.
man," charming enough to catch a Virginia widow; and three others—
Thomas Hewitt Key, Charles Bonnycastle and Robley Dunglison—who
came over in the same vessel, the "Competitor." This voyage, requiring
nearly four months—six weeks of which were spent in beating
about the Channel—almost reached tragic consequences. The captain
(Godby) was little better than a brute, who, Mr. Key said, deserved
to be shot for cowardice. During the tedious winter voyage Key and
Bonnycastle seem to have amused themselves at the expense of the
stupid sailor. One day when they asked the mate for the latitude and
longitude, he replied, "Well, gentlemen, the captain has ordered me
not to tell you—but he didn't tell me not to chalk them up," which
he proceeded to do. Thereupon Key and Bonnycastle covered a paper
with a multitude of calculations or figures of no significance, and
wound up by giving as a result the figures received through the mate,
which they signed as showing the ship's place on such a date "as
calculated by Dr. Barlow's new method." They left the paper on the
table, and some time afterwards they found an entry in the ship's log
in which the figures were given, with a note by the captain, "as calculated
by me, by Dr. Barlow's new method." | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 10 | Author: | Moore
Frank
1828-1904 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Diary of the American Revolution | | | | Published: | 2005 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | January 1.—The chief troubles of our Israel1
1
The town of Boston.
are the Philantrops, the Hazlerods, the Sir
Froths, the Tims, the Bens, and the Bobs. These are men, who, for large
Causes of trouble in Boston.
shares in the American plunder, have sold themselves
to do wickedly. The barbarians who have been aiding and assisting bad governors and
abandoned ministers, in all their attempts to subjugate and enslave these once happy colonies: the hireling prostitutes who have been constantly
representing to ministry that the friends of liberty were a small, insignificant,
divided faction; that the people had not virtue to sacrifice any parts of the profits of
their trade, or the luxury of their living for the sake of their country; or spirit
to withstand the least exertion of power. These are traitors who were for none but
licensed town-meetings,2
2
See the Governor's proclamation.
and gave administration
the outlines of the execrable Boston Port Bill and the other detestable bills for
destroying the charter,3
3
Of Massachusetts Bay.
and those sacred compacts which Americans once thought were of some value,
the faith of kings being the security. These are the unblushing advocates for pensioned
governors, dependent judges, hired attorneys, and sheriff created jurors, that the
people might, under color of law, be stript of their property, without their consent, and
suitably punished if they should dare to complain: the odious rebels, who, for the
support of these hateful measures, have invited the troops and ships, that are now
distressing the inhabitants of Boston, and alarming
8
not only a single province, but a whole continent. And when almost every event has
turned out contrary to their predictions, and when it
might be reasonably expected that the union of the colonies, the resolutions of the
Continental Congress, and the late associations and
preparations to withstand all hostile attempts upon our persons or properties, might lead
administration to suspect at least the policy or safety of pushing
this people to extremities; we find this infamous cabal playing over the old game
of ministerial deception, and Timothy
Ruggles1
1
The Chief Justice of the province of Massachusetts Bay. See statement and plan of
association, published by Judge Ruggles in most of the Boston papers, Dec. 23-27, 1774,
and reprinted in Gaines' New York Gazette, Jan. 9, 1775.
with a gravity peculiar to himself and an owl,
Timothy Ruggles' assertion.
asserting in the public prints—"that though many of the people had for
some time past been arming, their numbers would not appear in the field so large as
imagined, before it was known that independeney was the object in contemplation;"2
2
An assertion as false as it is impudent and injurious, first uttered by a hireling
priest,*
*
Dr. Myles Cooper, the President of King's, now Columbia, College, a vigorous writer in
favor of the crown.
in the New York Freeholder, who at the same time declared that
he had rather be under the government of Roman Catholics than Dissenters—a
declaration
truly characteristic of the doctor, and his little club of malignants.—The
people of Massachusetts have hitherto acted purely on the defensive; they have
only opposed those new regulations which were instantly to have been executed, and
would have annihilated all our rights. For this absolutely necessary and manly step
they have received the approbation of the Continental Congress, one of the most
respectable assemblies in the world. They aim at no independency, nor any thing new,
but barely the preservation of their old rights. They have referred their cause to the
whole continent, and are determined to act only in free consultation, and close union
with their brethren. This is indeed the safety of all.—Editor of the Journal.
and further, that since that time, many associated in divers parts of the
province, to support what he calls "Government."—But the views and designs of
these pensioned prostitutes of Massachusetts,—in all that they say or
write, are perfectly kenned by the most short-sighted amongst us. In vain are their
scare-crows, raw-head and bloody bones, held up to deter us from taking the most effectual
means for our security. The little scribbling, illiberal
9
pieces, which have disgraced the Massachusetts Gazettes, will not lessen the
Continental Congress in our
The Gazettes.
esteem; or retard the measures they have recommended,
notwithstanding the sums paid to effect it. These writers, and their attempts to
encourage or mislead, are treated with ineffable contempt by their countrymen. It has,
however, been unhappy for both countries that the representations
and projects of such men as these have been heeded and adopted on the other side of
the Atlantic; men whose very livings have depended upon the continuation of those
measures which Americans have so long complained of, and sought to have redressed. If
these unnaturals should succeed in their present misleading
attempts, to the preventing a speedy close to our differences, we shall then have good
reason to conclude that blindness has happened to Britons, that
the
fulness of American Liberty might come in.1
1
Pennsylvania Journal, Jan. 25. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 13 | Author: | Bird
Robert Montgomery
1806-1854 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Hawks of Hawk-hollow | | | | Published: | 1997 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | America is especially the land of change. From
the moment of discovery, its history has been a
record of convulsions, such as necessarily attend
a transition from barbarism to civilization; and to
the end of time, it will witness those revolutions in
society, which arise in a community unshackled
by the restraints of prerogative. As no law of
primogeniture can ever entail the distinctions meritoriously
won, or the wealth painfully amassed, by
a single individual, upon a line of descendants, the
mutations in the condition of families will be perpetual.
The Dives of to-day will be the Diogenes
of to-morrow; and the `man of the tub' will often
live to see his children change place with those of
the palace-builder. As it has been, so will it be,—
“Now up, now doun, as boket in a well;”
and the honoured and admired of one generation
will be forgotten among the moth-lived luminaries
of the next. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 16 | Author: | Brainard
John G. C.
(John Gardiner Calkins)
1796-1828 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Letters Found in the Ruins of Fort Braddock, Including an Interesting American Tale | | | | 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 now spring—the buds are bursting
through all the wilderness about me; but the cold
rains which are constantly descending, make my
condition so cheerless, that I write to you merely
to pass the time. Why I was doomed to spend my
winter here so solitary, or when I shall have the
good luck to shift my quarters, for any other spot,
is past my skill to divine. Any other spot—the
Arkansas, the Rio Colorada, the Council Bluffs,
the Yellow Stone, any place but this. Was I dangerous
to government, that they should have contrived
for one poor subaltern, this Siberian banishment,
where I am ingeniously confined, not by
a guard placed over me, but by having the command
of about five and twenty men, that the spring
discovers in a uniform of rags. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 17 | Author: | Briggs
Charles F.
(Charles Frederick)
1804-1877 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Adventures of Harry Franco | | | | 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 a generally received opinion in some parts
of the world, that a man must of necessity have
had ancestors; but, in our truly independent
country, we contrive to get along very well without
them. That strange race, called Aristocrats,
it is said, consider every body as nobody, unless
they can boast of at least a dozen ancestors. These
lofty people would have scorned an alliance with
a parvenu like Adam, of course. What a fortunate
circumstance for their high mightinesses, that
they were not born in the early ages. No antediluvian
family would have been entitled to the
slightest consideration from them. When the
world was only two thousand years old, it is
melancholy to reflect, its surface was covered with
nobodies; men of yesterday, without an ancestry
worth speaking of. It is not to be wondered at,
that such a set of upstarts should have caused the
flood; nothing less would have washed away their
vulgarity, to say nothing of their sins. Augustus de Satinett was a jobber; a choicer
spirit the region of Hanover square boasted not.
Pearl street and Maiden Lane may have known
his equal, his superior never. He had risen from
junior clerk to junior partner, in one of the oldest
firms. The best blood of the revolution flowed in
his veins; his mother was a Van Buster, his father
a de Satinett; a more remote ancestry, or a more
noble, it were vain to desire. Augustus had a noble
soul, it was a seven quarter full; his virtues
were all his own, and they were dyed in the wool;
his vices were those of his age—they were dyed
in the cloth. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 18 | Author: | Briggs
Charles F.
(Charles Frederick)
1804-1877 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Adventures of Harry Franco | | | | 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 broiling hot day, and as I toiled along
through the dusty streets of Brooklyn towards
the ferry, I almost wished myself back again upon
the blue sea. Dear Sir—This is to inform you as I
have entered in Uncle Sam's service, and have
took three month's advance. I have kept money
enough to have a good drunk, and the rest I send
to you. Keep it and spend it for my sake. I wanted
to of given you more, but that young woman,
blast her—but never say die. So no more at present
till death, and don't forget your old shipmate, Is it true that my dear boy is alive and
well! O, Harry, I have read your letter over and
over; and your poor sister has read it, and cried
over it, and prayed over it. I put it under my
pillow when I lay down at night, that I may be
able to press it to my lips when I wake in the
morning. Your father tells me it is weak in me
to do so, but it is a weakness caused by the
strength of my love for you. O, Harry, my dear
boy, I have had such dreams about you! but
they were only dreams, and I will not distress you
by relating them. Let us give thanks to our
heavenly Father for all his mercies. When we
received your letter, it was my wish to return
thanks publicly through Doctor Slospoken; but
your father would not give his consent. What
the neighbors all thought, I cannot say. But my
dear Harry, why did you not come home? to
your own home? Do not think, my dear child,
that you will be more welcome to your home and
your mother's heart, if you bring the wealth of
the Indies with you. If you be covered with
jewels your mother will not see them, and if you
be clothed in rags, she will only see her child. Your letter has made us all happy; how
happy I cannot express; for we had mourned for
you as one that was dead. I cannot, in a letter,
relate to you all that has been said and done since
we heard from you; but may be assured we
have been almost beside ourselves with joy, and
all our talk has been, Harry, Harry, Harry. “My conscience upbraids me with having
broken the golden rule, in my intercourse with
you, and I cannot allow you to leave me, under a
false impression of my feelings. I am afraid I
have not been sufficiently plain, when you have
spoken to me on the subject, in giving you to understand
that my mind is unalterably fixed, never
to unite myself to one, whose heart has not been
bowed under the conscious burden of his sins;
for my promise has been passed, mentally only,
I own, but I cannot break it. It is registered
above. Had I known you before the vow was
made, perhaps it never would have been; but it
is, and I am bound by it. Our hands, dear Harry,
may never be united, but our hearts may be.
I cannot dissimulate, I do love you; how well I
love you, let this confession witness. If it be sinful
in me, I trust that He, in whom is all my trust,
will pardon me, and deliver me from my bondage.
And my constant prayer to Him is, that he will
bring you to the foot of that Cross, where alone I
can meet you. “Immediately on the receipt of this, you
will destroy all the blank acceptances of Marisett
and Co., which may remain in your hands.
Make no farther contracts of any description,
for account of our house, but hold yourself in
readiness to return to New York. “Since our last, of the 28th ult., we have
come to the determination of stopping payment.
It may be necessary for us to make an assignment;
if so, we will advise you farther, and remain, “We are without any of your valued favors
since we acknowledged yours of the 14th.
You have already been informed of the stoppage
of our house; and I have now to inform you, that
in consequence of our Mr. Garvey having used
the name of the firm to a very great extent, in
his private land operations, our liabilities are
found greatly to exceed our assets. Our senior
partner, I am concerned to add, is completely
prostrated by this event, and unable to afford me
the aid which I require in adjusting the affairs of
the concern. All the circumstances considered, I
think it will be advisable for you to return to
New York as soon as you can bring matters to a
close at New Orleans. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 19 | Author: | Child
Lydia Maria Francis
1802-1880 | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Hobomok | | | | 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 NEVER view the thriving villages of New England,
which speak so forcibly to the heart, of happiness
and prosperity, without feeling a glow of national
pride, as I say, “this is my own, my native
land.” A long train of associations are connected
with her picturesque rivers, as they repose in their
peaceful loveliness, the broad and sparkling mirror of
the heavens,—and with the cultivated environs of her
busy cities, which seem every where blushing into a
perfect Eden of fruit and flowers. The remembrance
of what we have been, comes rushing on the heart in
powerful and happy contrast. In most nations the
path of antiquity is shrouded in darkness, rendered
more visible by the wild, fantastic light of fable;
but with us, the vista of time is luminous to its remotest
point. Each succeeding year has left its footsteps
distinct upon the soil, and the cold dew of our chilling
dawn is still visible beneath the mid-day sun. Two
centuries only have elapsed, since our most beautiful
villages reposed in the undisturbed grandeur of nature;—when
the scenes now rendered classic by literary
associations, or resounding with the din of commerce,
echoed nought but the song of the hunter, or
the fleet tread of the wild deer. God was here in his
holy temple, and the whole earth kept silence before
him! But the voice of prayer was soon to be heard in
the desert. The sun, which for ages beyond the memory
of man had gazed on the strange, fearful worship
of the Great Spirit of the wilderness, was soon to
shed its splendor upon the altars of the living God.
That light, which had arisen amid the darkness of
Europe, stretched its long, luminous track across the
Atlantic, till the summits of the western world became
tinged with its brightness. During many long,
long ages of gloom and corruption, it seemed as if the
pure flame of religion was every where quenched in
blood;—but the watchful vestal had kept the sacred
flame still burning deeply and fervently. Men, stern
and unyielding, brought it hither in their own bosom,
and amid desolation and poverty they kindled it on the
shrine of Jevovah. In this enlightened and liberal
age, it is perhaps too fashionable to look back upon
those early sufferers in the cause of the Reformation,
as a band of dark, discontented bigots. Without
doubt, there were many broad, deep shadows in their
characters, but there was likewise bold and powerful
light. The peculiarities of their situation occasioned
most of their faults, and atoned for them. They were
struck off from a learned, opulent, and powerful nation,
under circumstances which goaded and lacerated
them almost to ferocity;—and it is no wonder that
men who fled from oppression in their own country, to
all the hardships of a remote and dreary province,
should have exhibited a deep mixture of exclusive,
bitter, and morose passions. To us indeed, most of
the points for which they so strenuously contended,
must appear exceedingly absurd and trifling; and we
cannot forbear a smile that vigorous and cultivated
minds should have looked upon the signing of the
cross with so much horror and detestation. But the
heart pays involuntary tribute to conscientious, persevering
fortitude, in what cause soever it may be displayed.
At this impartial period we view the sound
policy and unwearied zeal with which the Jesuits endeavored
to rebuild their decaying church, with almost
as much admiration as we do the noble spirit of
reaction which it produced. Whatever merit may be
attached to the cause of our forefathers, the mighty
effort which they made for its support is truly wonderful;
and whatever might have been their defects,
they certainly possessed excellencies, which peculiarly
fitted them for a van-guard in the proud and rapid
march of freedom. The bold outlines of their character
alone remain to us. The varying tints of domestic
detail are already concealed by the ivy which
clusters around the tablets of our recent history.
Some of these have lately been unfolded in an old,
worn-out manuscript, which accidentally came in my
way. It was written by one of my ancestors who fled
with the persecuted nonconformists from the Isle of
Wight, and about the middle of June, 1629, arrived at
Naumkeak on the eastern shore of Massachusetts.
Every one acquainted with our early history remembers
the wretched state in which they found the
scanty remnant of their brethren at that place. I
shall, therefore, pass over the young man's dreary account
of sickness and distress, and shall likewise take
the liberty of substituting my own expressions for his
antiquated and almost unintelligible style. “This comes to reminde you of one you sometime
knew at Plimouth. One to whome the remembrance
of your comely face and gratious behaviour, hath
proved a very sweete savour. Many times I have
thought to write to you, and straightnesse of time only
hath prevented. There is much to doe at this seasone,
and wee have reason to rejoyce, though with fier
and trembling, that we have wherewithal to worke. “Wheras Mr. Collier hathe beene supposed to
blame concerning some businesse he hath of late endeavoured
to transacte for Mr. Hopkins, this cometh
to certifie that he did faithfully performe his dutie,
and moreover that his great modestie did prevente his
understanding many hints, until I spoke even as he
hath represented. Wherefore, if there be oughte unseemly
in this, it lieth on my shoulders. “I againe take up my penn to write upon the same
paper you gave me when I left you, and tolde me
thereupon to write my thoughts in the deserte. Alas,
what few I have, are sad ones. I remember you once
saide that Shakspeare would have beene the same
greate poet if he had been nurtured in a Puritan wildernesse.
But indeed it is harde for incense to rise
in a colde, heavy atmosphere, or for the buds of fancie
to put forth, where the heartes of men are as harde
and sterile as their unploughed soile. You will wonder
to hear me complain, who have heretofore beene
so proud of my cheerfulnesse. Alas, howe often is
pride the cause of things whereunto we give a better
name. Perhaps I have trusted too muche to my owne
strengthe in this matter, and Heaven is nowe pleased
to send a more bitter dispensation, wherewithal to
convince me of my weakness. I woulde tell you
more, venerable parente, but Mr. Brown will conveye
this to your hande, and he will saye much, that I cannot
finde hearte or roome for. The settlement of this
Western Worlde seemeth to goe on fast now that soe
many men of greate wisdome and antient blood are
employed therein. They saye much concerning our
holie church being the Babylone of olde, and that
vials of fierce wrath are readie to be poured out upon
her. If the prophecies of these mistaken men are to
be fulfilled, God grante I be not on earthe to witnesse
it. My dear mother is wasting awaye, though I hope
she will long live to comforte me. She hath often
spoken of you lately. A fewe dayes agone, she said
she shoulde die happier if her grey-haired father
coulde shed a tear upon her grave. I well know that
when that daye does come, we shall both shed many
bitter tears. I must leave some space in this paper
for her feeble hande to fill. The Lord have you in
His holie keeping till your dutifull grandchilde is
againe blessed with the sighte of your countenance. “I knowe nott wherewithal to address you, for my
hearte is full, and my hande trembleth with weaknesse.
My kinde Mary is mistaken in thinking I shall
long sojourne upon Earthe. I see the grave opening
before me, but I feel that I cannot descend thereunto
till I have humbly on my knees asked the forgiveness
of my offended father. He who hath made man's
hearte to suffer, alone knoweth the wretchedness of
mine when I have thought of your solitary old age.
Pardon, I beseech you, my youthfull follie and disobedience,
and doe not take offence if I write that the
husbande for whose sake I have suffered much, hath
been through life a kinde and tender helpe-meete; for
I knowe it will comforte you to think upon this, when
I am dead and gone. I would saye much more, but
though my soule is strong in affection for you, my
body is weake. God Almighty bless you, is the
prayer of “Manie thoughts crowde into my hearte, when I
take upp my pen to write to you. Straightwaye my
deare wife, long in her grave, cometh before me, and
bringeth the remembrance of your owne babie face,
as you sometime lay suckling in her arms. The
bloode of anciente men floweth slow, and the edge of
feeling groweth blunte: but heavie thoughts will rise
on the surface of the colde streame, and memorie will
probe the wounded hearte with her sharpe lancett.
There hath been much wronge betweene us, my deare
childe, and I feel that I trode too harshlie on your
young hearte: but it maye nott be mended. I have
had many kinde thoughts of you, though I have locked
them up with the keye of pride. The visit of Mr.
Brown was very grievious unto me, inasmuch as he
tolde me more certainly than I had known before.
that you were going downe to the grave. Well, my
childe, `it is a bourne from whence no traveller returns.'
My hande trembleth while I write this, and I
feel that I too am hastening thither. Maye we meete
in eternitie. The tears dropp on the paper when I
think we shall meete no more in time. Give my fervente
love to Mary. She is too sweete a blossom to
bloome in the deserte. Mr. Brown tolde me much
that grieved me to hear. He is a man of porte and
parts, and peradventure she maye see the time when
her dutie and inclination will meete together. The
greye hairs of her olde Grandefather maye be laide
in the duste before that time; but she will finde he
hath nott forgotten her sweete countenance and gratious
behaviour. I am gladd you have founde a kinde
helpe-meete in Mr. Conant. May God prosper him
according as he hath dealte affectionately with my
childe. Forgive your olde father as freelie as he forgiveth
you. And nowe, God in his mercie bless you,
dere childe of my youthe. Farewell. “This doth certifie that the witche hazel sticks,
which were givene to the witnesses of my marriage
are all burnte by my requeste: therefore by Indian
laws, Hobomok and Mary Conant are divorced. And
this I doe, that Mary may be happie. The same will
be testified by my kinsmen Powexis, Mawhalissis, and
Mackawalaw. The deere and foxes are for my goode
Mary, and my boy. Maye the Englishmen's God
bless them all. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
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