| 361 | Author: | Mathews
Cornelius
1817-1889 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | The career of Puffer Hopkins | | | 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: | To say that the townspeople of this mighty metropolis
were in a state of greater excitement and activity on
a certain night in a certain month of November—which
it is not necessary more particularly to define—than they
are on certain other nights of periodical recurrence, would
be to do the said townspeople arrant injustice, and to establish
for the chronicler of the following authentic history,
at the very outset, a questionable character for truth
and plain-speaking. On this immediate occasion, however,
there was, it must be confessed, a commendable degree
of agitation and enthusiasm visible, in almost every
quarter of the city. Crowds were emerging from lane,
alley and thoroughfare, and pouring into the central streets
in the direction of the Hall; sometimes in knots of three,
four or more, all engaged in earnest conversation, in a
loud key, with vehement gesture, and faces considerably
discolored by excitement. The persons composing these
various peripatetic and deliberative groups, could not be
said to be of any single class or profession, but mingled
together indiscriminately, much after the fashion of a
country store-keeper's stock, where a bale of fourth-price
flannel neighbors a piece of first-quality linen, and knots
of dainty and gallant wine-glasses are brought into a state
of sociable confusion, with a gathering of hard-headed
plebian stone-bottles. Although all tended the same way
and on the same errand, let no man be so rash and intemperate
as to imagine that no distinctions were observed;
that certain lines and demarcations were not maintained;
and that broadcloth was not careful here, as usual, not to
have its fine nap destroyed by the jostling of homespun. | | Similar Items: | Find |
362 | Author: | Mathews
Cornelius
1817-1889 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | The various writings of Cornelius Mathews [...] complete in one volume | | | 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 grieveth me much to communicate by this,
tidings that thine uncle is deceased. He departed
this life on first day morning, of a malignant
fever, as I am informed by Dr. Slanter, who attended
him during his last sickness. His malady
wrought much change in thine uncle's
looks, as I can state from personal observance,
having inspected them with great care immediately
after his lamented decease. The funeral
takes place third day morning, but too early
for thee to come up; thou hadst better not undertake
the journey, as it may overweary thee,
thou being of a feeble constitution (as I know),
from a boy. Thine uncle hath left no heir, as
thou knowest he was never in wedlock; consequently
thou art his successor in the homestead,
and whatsoever cash, moveables, and
stock, he hath left. I would advise thee to
plough the meadow behind the house, and to
sow timothy in the blue grass meadow. The
garden needs to be looked after, and the fruit-trees,
as they are at present well-stocked, should
be thinned out. Perhaps I had better use the
kitchen herbs and early apples for my own
family use, until thou comest hither. My spouse
Deborah says they make exceeding good pies.
Zekiel can pluck them, and it will be no great
trouble; if it be, a small commission will make
all right between me and thee. Zekiel proposes
to gather the vegetables and fruit for us in consideration
of thy letting him have a little of the
live stock; a pair or two of the fowls, and a
well-looking calf that is just cast by the spotted
cow. I regret to add that Gideon Barley's fine
red heifer hath strained her off shoulder, and he
may lose the crittur. I recommended salt and
water for the animal; whether Gideon will use
it yet is not decided. The old people are well
and ask the stagedriver daily (as I have observed
from the kitchen window) questions concerning
thy welfare. I would bring this news
to thee in person, and be enabled to satisfy thy
grandfather and grandmother touching thy progress
and behavior in the Babylon where thou
art, but there is much ploughing to be done, and
I am deprived of Zephaniah's aid, he being sore
of a foot with a seythe wound. Leonard hath
gone over to tend the mill for Miller Kirby, and
Zekiel will be busy running to and fro betwixt
us and thy garden and orchard. Advising thee
to keep from the snares that beset the feet of
youth in the ungodly city, and recommending
thee to pay thy tailor's bill, and avoid the night
air: | | Similar Items: | Find |
364 | Author: | Mitchell
I.
(Isaac)
ca. 1759-1812 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | A short account of the courtship of Alonzo & Melissa | | | Published: | 1997 | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | Description: | In the time of the late revolution, two young
gentlemen of Connecticut, who had formed
an indissoluble friendship, graduated at Yale college
in New Haven; their names were Edgar
and Alonzo; Edgar was the son of a respectable
farmer, Alonzo's father was an eminent merchant
— Edgar was designed for the desk, Alonzo for
the bar; but as they were allowed some vacant
time after their graduation before they entered
upon their professional studies, they improved
this interim in mutual, friendly visits, mingling
with select parties in the amusement of the day,
and in travelling through some parts of the United
States. | | Similar Items: | Find |
365 | Author: | Mitchell
I.
(Isaac)
ca. 1759-1812 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | The asylum, or, Alonzo and Melissa | | | 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: | Sometime previous to the commencement
of the American revolution, there resided,
in the western part of Connecticut, a
gentleman of English extraction, whose ancestors
were among the earliest settlers of
this country. The patrimony he inherited
from his father, he had, by various speculation,
increased until he became the richest
man in those parts. His property lay in numerous
cultivated farms, most of which were
advantageously rented; in valuable wild
lands, and in money at interest on indubitable
security. His name was Bloomfield. | | Similar Items: | Find |
367 | Author: | Motley
John Lothrop
1814-1877 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | Morton's Hope, or, The memoirs of a provincial | | | 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: | “You are going to hate me. I am prepared
for it. Alas! you have too much cause.
What shall I write? My thoughts are wild
and fluctuating as the sea, and my reason is
tossed about at their mercy. My brain is whirled
round by conflicting passions, till it is sick
and giddy. You have often complained of my
coldness, my abstraction; but could you have
dreamed of the extent of my crime? Never.
I have only made you the victim of a foiled
attempt at self-sacrifice. Dearest Uncas, I do
not ask you not to hate me. I implore your
curses; but, at least, hear me to the end. I
have but a word to say. “Come to me without fail at twelve to-day:
— I shall be in — Street. It is a matter
of life and death. “Sir, — There are three things to be settled,
and they may be done at one time as well as
another — amicably, if you like — but certainly,
suddenly. Bring a friend — Major Dalrymple
will be with me. I know it is your marriage-day,
but I cannot wait. I know you too well
not to be sure that it will prove no excuse.
The hour is half-past twelve. The place, the
Providence House. “The Principal Librarian's Sub-Librarian's Deputy's
Assistant's Secretary, Popp, | | Similar Items: | Find |
369 | Author: | Motley
John Lothrop
1814-1877 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | Merry-mount | | | 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: | A tempest, which had for many days been sweeping over
land and sea, had at last subsided. The ocean was still tossing
in stormy surges beyond the two external pillars of the Massachusetts
Bay; and even within its beautiful archipelago of tufted
islands, where the tempest's rage was comparatively powerless,
the dark and foaming waves broke violently against the shore. When Henry Maudsley arose from a brief and feverish slumber,
upon the morning following the May-day revels, he was for
some time at a loss to determine whether the strange events of the
preceding evening had not all been a delusion and a dream.
The wild accents of the mysterious youth who had been his companion
during the concluding hours of the day were still haunting
his imagination, but who the stranger was, whence he derived
such singular knowledge of his own history and most secret
thoughts, and for what reason he had conceived so lively an interest
in his welfare, it was beyond his power to imagine. | | Similar Items: | Find |
370 | Author: | Myers
P. Hamilton
(Peter Hamilton)
1812-1878 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | Ellen Welles, or, The siege of Fort Stanwix | | | 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: | There are few portions of our country more beautiful,
and none more rich with historic recollections,
than the valley of the Mohawk, Yet few, probably, of
the throngs, who, steam-impelled, pass daily through
this beautiful region, yielding to its many scenes of enchantment
the tribute of admiration, pause to reflect
upon the fearful and momentous deeds of which it has
been the scene, and which are destined in after ages to
render every inch of its soil classic ground. | | Similar Items: | Find |
371 | Author: | Myers
P. Hamilton
(Peter Hamilton)
1812-1878 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | The first of the Knickerbockers | | | 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 great State of New York, rejoicing now in its
separate sovereignty, and in its vast metropolis, the
conceded capital of the western world, and vieing in
resources, both of money and muscles, with the old
nations of Europe, seems scarce possibly the same
which, less than two centuries ago, was the colonial
appendage alternately of England and Holland, and
but lightly valued by either. But let it not lower thy
honest pride, oh vaunted Empire State! to remember
those earlier days, when, in the shuttlecock state of
thy existence, thou wast bandied about from owner
to owner, now seized by force, and now a mere makeweight,
thrown in to settle some more important bargain.
And thou, oh gorgeous city of Manhattan!
mart of nations! blush not to own thy former self in
a small provincial town, clustered around its parent
fortress, to carry out the pleasing illusion of protection
beneath its dread armament of sixteen frowning
guns. Formidable at least were they to the prowling
savage, lurking in undiscovered haunts, where now
the tide of human life rolls thickest, and where loudest
comes the busy hum of commerce to the ear. | | Similar Items: | Find |
372 | Author: | Myers
P. Hamilton
(Peter Hamilton)
1812-1878 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | The young patroon, or, Christmas in 1690 | | | 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: | More than a hundred and fifty years ago, there
lived, just without the goodly city of New York, but
far within its present precincts, a worthy Dutch
burgher whose name was not Van Corlear. It is
ventured, however, to borrow that venerable patronymic
in his behalf, withholding his real name, lest
some of his irascible descendants, jealous of ancestral
fame, may impugn the verity of those family secrets
which are about to be divulged. This prudential
arrangement in relation to names is intended also to
extend to the other personages mentioned in the
following history; and when thus much of fiction is
so frankly acknowledged, it is hoped that the reader
will be therewith content, and will be willing to concede
to the more material matters the credence they
deserve. | | Similar Items: | Find |
373 | Author: | Myers
P. Hamilton
(Peter Hamilton)
1812-1878 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | The King of the Hurons | | | 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 was during a violent storm in the spring of 1708, that a French
brig of war, seriously crippled, was discovered in the bay of New
York, showing signals of distress, and approaching, with indirect
course, to the harbor. There was, of course, not wanting a race of
panic-makers in those days—progenitors, doubtless, of a similar class
in our own—who at once saw in the unfortunate vessel an estray
from a belligerent fleet, hovering close at hand, and ready to
descend, with fatal swoop, upon the long-threatened city. Rumors,
indeed, of such an armada had long been rife, and had, perhaps,
accomplished their intended effect, in restraining the English colony
from any vigorous efforts at the conquest of Canada—an enterprise
on which more words than wadding had been wasted, but which, of
course, was not to be undertaken while any peril impended over its
own capital. France might thus be compared to some good dame,
who watches from a distance the quarrels between her neighbors'
children and her own, and contents herself with shaking a stick at
the former, while in reality too indolent, or too much occupied in
more important business, to fulfil any of her pantomimic threats.
Certain it was, that at this period she meditated no invasion of that
embryo metropolis, which reposed, in doubtful security, betwixt two
rivers and a picket fence; the latter being denominated by courtesy,
a wall, and stretching transversely across the town. The good ship
St. Cloud, on the contrary, if aught could be judged from her zigzag
movements, was approaching the city with anything but alacrity,
despite the nautical adage, old, doubtless, as her day, “any port in
a storm.” Driven from her course, dismasted, and a-leak, she had
been tossed for weeks, cork-like, upon the waves, the very plaything
of the elements, until all hope of attaining a friendly port was abandoned,
and every minor consideration became merged in the
instinctive desire for the preservation of life. Foremost to secure
their own safety, a reckless portion of the crew had deserted by night
in the only boat which had escaped destruction; and it was with no
other means of safety for the lives intrusted to his care, that Captain
Sill, on discovering himself near the Bay of Manhattan, resolved to
seek the harbor of New York. That he anticipated no mitigated
fate from his country's enemies, by reason of his disaster, was quite
apparent from the anxiety depicted upon his countenance, as he
paced the quarter-deck of his vessel, and looked mournfully towards
the land. What unusual reason he had to deprecate the approaching
calamity will appear more fully, if we descend with him into the
cabin, and survey the few, but not unimportant personages, who
were under his charge as passengers, and who had vainly anticipated,
on leaving home, a safe and speedy voyage to the French colonial
capital, Quebec. | | Similar Items: | Find |
376 | Author: | Neal
John
1793-1876 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | Errata, or, The works of Will. Adams | | | 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: | If there ever was a coward upon earth, I am one.
If God ever made a thing so contemptible, I was born
one. From my earliest recollection of myself, the
very name of death was frightful to me: and, when I
came to understand what it meant; and to see how it
fastened upon whatever I happened to love, so invisibly,
yet so fatally; how it altered whatever it touched, till
every body fled from it, even the mother from her babe;
how it affected the voices of men, when they spoke of it
—I began to feel—I hardly know how, toward it—it
was not as other children felt; not, as if death were a shadow,
or a power, the common enemy of our race—but,
I hated it with a bitterness and earnestness—and feared
it, with a fear, that kept my blood in a continual agitation—as
if it were a real, living creature; and my own
particular, deadly enemy. Nay, even now, with all
my experience, and discipline; notwithstanding all that
I have encountered, and suffered, in the hope of overcoming
this weakness of my nature; it is a fact, that the very
thought of death, when I am alone, is enough to
drive me distracted. | | Similar Items: | Find |
377 | Author: | Neal
John
1793-1876 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | Errata, or, The works of Will. Adams | | | 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: | One year; one whole year hath passed away, since I
finished the last chapter. This very evening completes
it. And even yet, my hand trembles, in taking
up the story again. I feel like one, who, having grown
old in sorrow and loneliness, is about to enter again, for
the first time, since the death of a beloved one,—the
apartment where she died.—How shall I bear it?—Is
there, do you believe, upon the wide earth, a man of
my age, so utterly desolate, as I, at this moment? I do
not believe that there is. I have loved, and been beloved,
truly and tenderly; very passionately too; and
devoutly, at times;—been blessed, beyond the lot of other
men—with the wife of my heart, and the babe of my
strength, beautiful as day, and good, as beautiful—but
where are they? Man, man! of what avail is all thy
sorrowing and humiliation!—thy penitence and contrition?
The curse of thy boyhood pursues thee! the shadow
of thy transgressions; and, where the good man
beholds but the visiting of God's own hand, in gentleness
and love, the wicked quake under it, as beneath
the unsparing retribution of one, that hath power, and
will not be appeased. “But for your sake, my dear Wallace, I should never
write to you another line. I had nearly come once to
the resolution, never to speak, nor think, nor write of
you again. You have been ill. I am sorry for it.—
But the worst illness that you have, is one, of which,
whatever be the consequences. I am determined to
speak plainly.—You want resolution, steadiness, and
resisting power. “I have perused your affectionate letter.” | | Similar Items: | Find |
378 | Author: | Neal
John
1793-1876 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | Randolph | | | 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: | No, dear; you are mistaken in Molton. He is not the
abject creature that you believe. I have no proof to offer
you, it is true;—nothing but my bare word; and that
too, founded upon an interview of ten minutes. But, nevertheless,
I do entreat you to believe me; or, if that be too
much, Sarah, let me beg that you suspend your opinion
awhile, and not express it, to any human creature, until
you are assured that you are not wronging a noble nature.
I wish that you could have seen him, cousin, when I
handed your note to him. You would have given up all
your prejudices, I am sure, on the spot; nay—you would
have wept. As he read it, I saw a slight convulsion pass
over his broad forehead;—it contracted a little too, and
then, there was a quiet hectick; and his patient light blue
eyes flashed fire;—and, if I must tell the truth, there was
an angry fierceness in his look, for a single moment, that,
in spite of myself, made me tremble; but, when this was
followed, as it was, almost immediately, by a mortal
paleness, and a slow, calm movement of the arm and
hand, as he reached out the billet to me, it was really
appalling. It almost took my strength away. Such a
delicate creature,—so effeminate, and sickly!—it is unaccountable
to me, how his presence should so affect me. Mr. Ramsay died last evening, between ten and eleven,
with little pain, and in the full possession of his faculties.
His daughter is seriously indisposed; but she has
the best medical attention in the country; and her deportment
toward her father, during his short illness, has made
her many friends. Be assured, madam, that she shall want
for nothing. She wrote a note yesterday morning, and
gave it to me, with your address, requesting me, if the
event should be as we anticipated, to enclose it to you.
She took to her bed, immediately; or rather, we carried
her, by force, from the presence of her father, who commanded
it; and she is now delirious. Mr. Ramsay received
every attention and kindness, that he could have
received at home. A catholick clergyman, from Boston,
one of the most amiable and benevolent of men, was with
him all the time, during the last two days; and no human
being ever manifested more resignation, after he was
told that death was inevitable. At first, he was a good
deal agitated; yet, he told me, not an hour afterward,
that he knew he should die in my house, the first night
that he slept here. I laughed at the notion then, but it
was verified. He did die, in the very room, in the very
bed, and at the very hour which he had foretold. I have
had some experience in these things; and am willing to
attribute much to the imagination; but, when I see a sober,
sensible man, like him, yielding up to a belief that he
has seen a spirit---pardon me, madam, I am little inclined
to provoke a smile at such a moment; but, Mr. Ramsay,
not an hour before his death, told me, that his wife had
appeared to him, and summoned him. Was there any
thing remarkable in her death? I ask the question, from
some mysterious observations that I heard escape him,
in conversation with his daughter, respecting the matter,
when he was first taken ill. He told his physicians and
me, that nothing could save him; but, desired us not to
inform her. We tried all that we could, to divert his mind
from meditating on the subject. But all in vain. Even
medicine had no effect upon him. Can the mind counteract
such things?—neutralize our poisons—dilute and
dissipate the most corrosive, and fiery applications?—
Is that sympathy so vital, that the blood cannot be chilled,
where the mind is preternaturally heated? It was,
in his case. Blisters were applied. They came off, as
they went on. His skin had lost its sensibility. Purges
and emeticks were given. No effect was produced.
The stomach and bowels were impenetrable. Laudanum
followed; but, the only result was, a more mortal coldness
in the extremities; no sluggishness, no torpor;—
the blood, therefore, was beyond our dominion. It is
considered here, the most extraordinary case, within our
experience; but we are told that such things may be, in
the books; and our limited observation would seem to
confirm the position. Sudden fright, I have known to
produce death—and to restore drunken men. And the
sea-sickness, always ceases, when the danger of shipwreck
is imminent. | | Similar Items: | Find |
379 | Author: | Neal
John
1793-1876 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | Randolph | | | 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 have just arrived. My spirits are depressed; the
weather is gloomy, and I feel myself to be really and
truly alone, in a land of strangers. How will this adventure
end?—Would that I might rend away the dark
curtain, for a moment, and look into futurity. I might appalled--I
might; but, were it not better to have your senses
reel at once, and all your strength desert you; than to be
cheated, as I have been, year after year, with hope and disappointment?
What can I say to you? It is impossible that
I can have anything to write; yet, my heart is heavy with
thought and speculation. I promised to write, and,
therefore have I written. Let me hear from you directly.
I shall be impatient for your answer; for I feel as
a stranger here, even in my retirement. | | Similar Items: | Find |
380 | Author: | Neal
John
1793-1876 | Requires cookie* | | Title: | Seventy-six | | | 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: | Yes, my children, I will no longer delay it. We are
passing, one by one, from the place of contention, one
after another, to the grave; and, in a little time, you
may say—Our Fathers!—the men of the Revolution—
where are they?..... Yes, I will go about it, in
earnest: I will leave the record behind me, and when
there is nothing else to remind you of your father, and
your children's children, of their ancestor—nothing
else, to call up his apparition before you, that you may
see his aged and worn forehead—his white hair in the
wind... you will have but to open the book, that I
shall leave to you—and lay your right hand, devoutly,
upon the page. It will have been written in blood
and sweat, with prayer and weeping. But do that—
no matter when it is, generations may have passed
away—no matter where I am—my flesh and blood
may have returned to their original element, or taken
innumerable shapes of loveliness—my very soul may
be standing in the presence of the Most High—Yet
do ye this, and I will appear to you, instantly, in the
deepest and dimmest solitude of your memory!—
—Yes!—I will go about it, this very day...
And I do pray you and them, as they shall be born
successively of you, and yours, when all the family are
about their sanctuary, their own fire side—the holy
and comfortable place, to open the volume, and read it
aloud. Let it be in the depth of winter, if it may be,
when the labour of the year is over, and the heart is
rejoicing in its home—and when you are alone:—not
that I would frown upon the traveller, or blight the
warm hospitality of your nature, by reproof—but there
are some things, and some places, where the thought of
the stranger is intrusion, the touch and hearing of the
unknown man, little better than profanation. If you
love each other, you will not go abroad for consolation:
and if you are wise, you will preserve some
hidden, fountains of your heart, unvisited but by one
or two—the dearest and the best. This should be one
of them—I will have it so. I would not have your
feeling of holy, and solemn, and high enthusiasm,
broken in upon, by the unprepared, just when you have
been brought, perhaps, to travel in imagination, with
your father, barefooted, over the frozen ground, leaving
his blood at every step, as he went, desolate, famished,
sick, naked, almost broken hearted, and almost
alone, to fight the battles of your country. | | Similar Items: | Find |
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