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| | 322 | Author: | Virginia Company of London | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | The Records of the Virginia Company of London  | | | | Published: | 2005 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | Most reuerend Fath9 in God, right trusty & welbeloued Counsello9,
wee greete you well. You haue§ heard§ ere this time of the attempt of
diuerse worthie men or subiectℯ to plant in Virginia (under ye warrant
of or ɫres patentℯ) people of this kingdome, aswell for ye enlarging of
or Dominions as for propagation of the Gospell amongst Infidells: wherein
there is good progresse made, and hope of further increase. So as the
Vndertakers of yt Plantation are now in hand wth the erecting of some
Churches & Schooles for the education of the children of those Barbarians:
wch cannot be but to them a very greate charge, and aboue the expence
wch for the civill plantation doth come to them. In wch wee doubt not
but that you and all others who wish well to the encrease of Christian
Religion wilbe willing to giue all assistance and furtherance yow may:
and therein to make experience of the zeale and devotion of or well minded
subiectℯ especially those of the Clergie. Wherefore wee do require yow,
and hereby authorize yow to write yor ɫres to ye seuerall Bishops of ye
Diocesses in yor Province, that they do giue order to the Ministers &
other zelous men of their Diocesses, both by their owne example in
contribution, and by exhortation to others, to mooue our people wthin
their seuerall charges, to contribute to so good a worke in as liberall a
manner as they may, ffor the better aduancing whereof, our pleasure is,
that those Collections be made in all the particuler parishes foure seuerall
times wthin these two yeares next comming: And that the seuerall
Accountℯ of each parish, together wth the moneys collected, be retourned
from time to time, to the Bps of the Dioceses, and by them be transmitted
half yearely to you and so to be deliuered to ye Treasurors of that planta-
tion, to be imployed for ye godly purposes intended, and no other. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 324 | Author: | Carkin
Philena | Requires cookie* | | | Title: | Reminiscences of Philena Carkin | | | | Published: | 2005 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Modern English collection | UVA-LIB-Text | | | | Description: | During the first and second
years of my work in Charlottesville
we had occasional visits from a Mr. Frost
who was, I think, located at Gordonsville.
I have no numbers of the Freedmens
Record for 1866, and do not remember
what position he held under the Society
in Boston, but I think he had some
kind of supervision over the schools in
that vicinity. I recall that our supplies
of books etc came through him. It
was only for a short time that he was in
any way connected with our schools. I never saw her but once. She was a tall,
finely formed, handsome woman — I think
a quadroon. The most noticeable feature
about her was the weary look of sadness
in her large brown eyes. My friend
who was with me when we had occasion
to meet her on a matter of business
knew her story which she related,
substantially as follows. Joanna was unlike Margaret. She
had so little of the negro blood in her veins
that no one would have suspected she was
not pure white. Her master was a wealthy
plantation owner, who had so many
slaves that half of them could pass him by
unrecognized — a not uncommon
circumstance on large plantations, I
imagine. As far as I know Joanna was
comfortable and happy enough in her life
on the plantation. She probably had
enough to eat, and was kindly treated
according to the code of slavery. But
one day she found herself in a new
position as regards the life of a slave
woman. She had become a mother.
She had heretofore felt but little anxiety
about herself and her own future, but what
about her child? She knew that little
children were often sold from their mothers
at a tender age. It was not uncommon on
her masters plantation. What should she do?
How prevent this dreadful possibility? For
weeks and months she was haunted by the
horrible fear that some day her child
would be taken from her until at last
her mind was made up to escape from
slavery by running away. I do not know
how she got away from her masters
plantation with her child unsuspected,
but she succeeded in reaching the
railway station some miles distant
without any trouble. There one of the
first persons she saw was her master.
He did not recognize her as his chattel
or even as a colored woman. He saw
in her He saw in her only a young
lady travelling without an attendant,
and encumbered with an infant, so he
kindly assisted her upon the train, found
her a seat, and performed such other
acts of courtesy as his chivalrous nature
suggested, then left her undisturbed to
pursue her journey North. Whether he
ever learned that he had assisted one
of his own slaves to escape I do not know. The following anecdote will serve to show
that chivalry, which the southern white
man has so long claimed as a trait peculiar
to himself, may sometimes be found among
the humblest of Gods children. She was a dressmaker — a quiet, hard working
woman, with a very small amount of negro
blood in her veins, being in fact so nearly white
that one would hardly suspect she had any. She
sent at different times all of her children to
my school — four boys and a girl. The father
of these children was a prominent white
citizen of the place, and none of the boys
showed any trace of color, having fair skins
and light, straight hair. The little girl was
somewhat darker with a slightly yellow tinge
in her complexion. This was all that hinted
of her African descent. Arriving in Charlottesville last
Friday I found your letter and now acknowledge
its receipt with many thanks. Although I
date my letters from this place Charlottesville
is still my home — Keswick is my express office. Words of mine cannot express
the obligations I am under to you for the letter
sent me in April. I have been tardy in answering,
as I wished I wished to gather some information
which I knew would interest you. I feel sure
you will do your best in the matter of the books
so I will proceed to give you an idea of the
changes in Charlottesville and its surroundings I am unable to find words to
express my gratitude for the letters you are so kind
as to write to me. Please to accept my thanks for
your interest in my school. I will endeavor to give
you a description of it. We are situated about 10
miles east of Charlottesville, on the old "Richmond
Turnpike," and have a neat house. The ground
(one acre) was furnished by the patrons, and the
School Board put up the house for us, after we had
got half the lumber and paid for hauling all the
materials used. We got the lumber by each patron
giving so many pine trees on the stump, and
so determined were they all to have the house that
a number of the larger boys would go into the
woods, and fell and cut up a tree preparatory
to sending it to the saw mill. Our white friends
aided us by lending teams etc. I am afraid you are being
annoyed by our constant expression of thanks
for what you have done for us. I assure you
it is no small thing, and we appreciate
it very highly. Since your wishes must be
respected the pupils have decided to call it
the "F. B. Sanborn Library" though they wished
very much to call it by your name. Now I wish
to ask your perusal of the accompanying
little letter, written, without my knowledge
by our little secretary who is only ten
years this coming June. Her father is a
prosperous blacksmith and is, apparantly
one of the latest importations from Africa
he is so very black and ignorant. This
child was in her "letters" as they say less
than four years ago (our school year consists
of seven months) and now reads in the 5th
Reader. I send you the childs letter
because it seems to be the outpouring of
of the heart. Hoping you will kindly think
of us and with kind wishes for your happiness
from many here. I will spend this pleasant
afternoon in writing to one I have never seen
but I have often heard my teacher speak of you
and read letters from you to us, and talk
of you as being his teacher. We are strangers
but that matters but a little. I can write to
you with just as much love as to any of
my friends. We received your box and all
were very proud of it indeed, and all my
schoolmates thank you and your friends
for your kindness. They are such nice books
and make such a respectable little Library
— just what we had talked about a long while
and O, if you could just see if now it looks so
beautiful! You said you didn't care to
have it named after you, but we had no other
name that we thought would suit so nicely as
yours, and the scholars all seem to love that
so well that we were compelled to name it
the P. Carkin Free Library My Dear Friend and Teacher. It
is a long, long time since you were here,
and I've been thinking for several years of
writing to see if you were still numbered
with the living, but have kept putting it
off from time to time until I've made it
very late, but I hope not too late. Your letter of the 10th inst was
duly received. It found us well, and indeed,
more than glad to hear from you. I am sorry
to know that your sight has gotten so poor, but my
prayer is that it may not grow much worse for
years to come. I was glad and thankful to
receive the picture of the "Minute Man" I
remember so distinctly about your telling, and
trying to have us understand about them years
ago. And not only that, but you told and read
to us so much that I recall and which has
since become real to me, that I have often
wished that I could see you, and make some
apology for my ignorance and ingratitude,
for then it was meaningless to me, and as
with me, so I presume it was to a greater or less
extent with the others. But much of the
ignorance, inexperience and darkness that
met you here, have disappeared, and it is
beginning to look like a real dispensation of
freedom in which every one has some sort of a
chance in the race of life. "The old building where you taught has
long since been torn away and all that part
of the town is laid out in streets and thickly
settled It would be hard for you to tell where the
old school house stood. The new school house is
farther down, near the Court House. If you
remember where the gas house was, it is on the
same street. x x x I should be glad if you
could see this place again and witness the strides
the colored people have made from barbarism
to civilization. I did not think to tell you in
my last, that they own and publish one
newspaper in Charlottesville x x x I will tell you
my age as well as I can. I call myself 54. The farm
house where I was born was burned in May 1865,
and
with it all the records. My mother, a short time
before her death, took me with her to the old place
to get our ages, and what they gave us was all
guess work. I was born in January 1855 or 1856
Mother knew it was three weeks after Christmas. That
was all she knew about it. I am still vigorous
and can do more work at almost anything
than the average man." I had sent Mr. Minor some pamphlets of the
Humane Society and asked him if there was
anything of the kind yet in Charlottesville. To
which he replied as follows.
"No, they
have nothing like a humane society any
where in Virginia that I ever heard of certainly
not in Charlottesville or in Albemarle County
I hope to see a "Red Acre Farm" here in our
state some day. At present worn out horses
as well as worn out men fare tolerably rough.
There is nothing like a "Rescue League" These
things have not been thought of yet x x x x
"No, they
have nothing like a humane society any
where in Virginia that I ever heard of certainly
not in Charlottesville or in Albemarle County
I hope to see a "Red Acre Farm" here in our
state some day. At present worn out horses
as well as worn out men fare tolerably rough.
There is nothing like a "Rescue League" These
things have not been thought of yet x x x x Your last letter of Sept 16th was
duly received. We were glad to hear from
you and to learn of the many helpful
Societies among you. I thank you very
much for the "horses prayer." Some horses
do need to say it daily, but I am thankful
to say mine have not said it this winter
though the winter has been long and
severe, interspersed with a day or two
of mild weather now and then. x x x x
I am quite busy preparing for
my crops, and at present the prospects before
me are quite bright. I have a great deal
more work than I can do but and cannot afford
to hire help but am doing very well alone,
and when school closes in April Mabel and
Irene will help me a little. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 325 | 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 |
| 328 | 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 |
| 329 | 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 |
| 332 | 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 |
| 334 | 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 |
|
