| | 141 | Author: | Sargent
Epes
1813-1880 | Add | | | Title: | What's to be done?  | | | | 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: | On a dark and chilly evening in the last
month of the year, a young portrait-painter
named Stanford was sitting alone in the room
where he practised his art. An easel was before
him, and on it was a painting, although so
dim was the light shed by a solitary candle from
an adjoining table, that it was difficult to distinguish
the figures on the canvass. There was
a fireplace in the apartment, but it no longer
emitted a cheerful warmth, for the last spark
upon the hearth-stone had expired, and the air
was growing colder and colder. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 142 | Author: | Sigourney
L. H.
(Lydia Howard)
1791-1865 | Add | | | Title: | Sketch of Connecticut, forty years since | | | | 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: | Not far from where the southern limits of Connecticut
meet the waters of the sea, the town of N— is situated.
As you approach from the west, it exhibits a rural aspect,
of meadows intersected by streams, and houses overshadowed
with trees. Viewed from the eastern acclivity,
it seems like a citadel guarded by parapets of rock, and
embosomed in an ampitheatre of hills, whose summits
mark the horizon with a waving line of dark forest green.
Entering at this avenue, you perceive that its habitations
bear few marks of splendour, but many of them, retiring
behind the shelter of lofty elms, exhibit the appearance
of comfort and respectability. Travelling southward about
two miles, through the principal road, the rural features
of the landscape are lost, in the throng of houses, and
bustle of men. The junction of two considerable streams
here forms a beautiful river, which, receiving the tides of
the sea, rushes with a short course into its bosom. “With the circumstances of my escape you were undoubtedly
made acquainted, at the return of my pursuers.
The bearer will inform you that my reception on board
the gallies, and at this place, has been favourable to our
wishes. I am able confidently to assure you, that the suspicions
excited by Arnold are false as himself. Not one of
our officers is supposed by the British to be otherwise than
inimical to their cause. Only one has fallen, one son of perdition.
To have the pleasure of doing this justice to fidelity,
balances the evils of my situation. I was yesterday compelled
to a most afflicting step, but one indispensable to
the completion of our plan. It was necessary for me to
accept a commission in the traitor's legion, that I might
have uninterrupted access to his house. Thither he usually
returns at midnight, and previously to retiring, walks
a short time in his garden. There I am to seize, and gag
him, and with the assistance of this trusty spy, bear him
to a boat, which will be in readiness. In case of interrogation,
we shall say, that we are carrying an intoxicated
soldier to the guard-house. Some of the pales from the
garden fence are to be previously removed, that our silent
passage to the alley may be facilitated. On the night,
which the bearer is commissioned to appoint, meet me at
Hoboken, with twenty of the Virginia cavalry, those
brothers of my soul, and there, God willing, I will deliver
to your hand, the troubler of Israel. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 143 | Author: | Sigourney
L. H.
(Lydia Howard)
1791-1865 | Add | | | Title: | Sketches | | | | 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 was in the full tide of a laborious and absorbing
profession,—of one which imposes on intellect
an unsparing discipline, but ultimately opens the
avenues to wealth and fame. I pursued it, as one
determined on distinction,—as one convinced that
mind may assume a degree of omnipotence over
matter and circumstance, and popular opinion. Ambition's
promptings were strong within me, nor was
its career unprosperous.—I had no reason to complain
that its promises were deceptive, or its harvest
tardy. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 144 | Author: | Sigourney
L. H.
(Lydia Howard)
1791-1865 | Add | | | Title: | Water-drops | | | | 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 environs of one of the large towns of New-England,
a pleasant dwelling attracted the eye of the traveller.
It was a kind of Gothic cottage, whose face of
brown stucco, and pointed windows, were adorned with
clustering vines. Its lawn of green turf was smoothly
shaven, while occasional borders, and circles of dark,
weedless mould, gave nutriment to a multitude of flowers. Louisa is worthy of you.—Return. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 145 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Add | | | Title: | The book of my lady | | | | 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: | Were these days of fiction, rather than of fact, and
could the popular sense be persuaded to regard that
period of exciting circumstance in past history, called
the era of romance, in any other light than that of a
pleasant dream about to be forgotten, your charms
might once again bring into exercise, not merely the
lay of the minstrel, but the valour of the knight. Instead
of the goosequill, spear and sword might, with
sufficient reason, be lifted in your service. Alas! however,
for the time—it brings forth no such offering. As
an especial rebuke to such glorious errantries as made
the middle ages the prime period of romantic adventure;
state prisons and penitentiaries frown upon us
from every quarter—instead of the warlike and stirring
blasts of the bugle, calling the watchful warder to the
turret, and arousing the sleeping porter to the approach
of the visiter, the tintinnabulary house-bell presents
itself conveniently at the portals, and the liveried servitor
opens the door at the first friendly summons. Romance
knows none of these comforts, and well may
adventure sigh after a period which left something for
achievement to do, in scaling walls and mounting windows.
Had we, my lady, been born in such a period,
doubt not that I should have done something worthy to
be named along with the daring doings of the time.
Doubt not that lance had been lifted, and bugle wound,
and battle done gallantly, in your behalf and for your
love. As the times are, however, this may not be the
case; and all that chivalry may now proffer to his ladylove,
is some little tribute of romance like this,—its
relic and remembrance—comprised in a tiny volume,
quite unworthy of your genius, but all that I can yield
from mine. Pardon me, then, dear lady, that these
pages—many of which have been already uttered in
your ears—have received a name, which, though not
fairly identified with yourself or yours, must nevertheless,
and necessarily, refer to you for that countenance and
favour, which is more than popular applause to me.
May they not prove altogether unworthy your acceptance,
nor seem to be altogether ungracious in your
sight. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 146 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Add | | | Title: | Guy Rivers | | | | 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 upper part of the State of Georgia, extending
into the country of the Cherokee Indians—
a region, at this period, fruitful of dispute—lying
at nearly equal distances between the parallel
waters of the Chatahoochie river, and that branch
of it which bears the name of the Chestatee, from a
now almost forgotten but once formidable tribe—
will be found a long reach of comparatively barren
lands, interspersed with hills, which occasionally
aspire to a more elevated title, and garnished only
here and there with a dull, half-withered shrubbery,
relieved at intervals, though even then but imperfectly,
by small clumps of slender pines that fling
out their few and skeleton branches ruggedly and
abruptly against the sky. The entire face of the
scene, if not absolutely desolate, has, at least, a
dreary and melancholy expression, which can
not fail to elicit, in the bosom of the most indifferent
spectator, a feeling of gravity and even gloom.
The sparse clusters of ragged woods, and thin
undergrowth of shrivelled herbage, gave token of
the generally steril character of that destiny,
which seemed to have taken up its abode immediately
within, while presiding over, the place.
All around, as far as the eye could reach, a continual
recurrence of the same objects and outline
arrested and fatigued the gaze; which finally sickened
of long levels of sand, broken with rude hills
of a dull species of rock, and a low shrubbery from
which all living things had taken their departure.
Though thus barren to the eye, this region was not,
however, utterly deficient in resources; and its possessions
were those of a description not a little
attractive to the great majority of mankind. It
was the immediate outpost—the very threshold of
the gold country, now so famous for the prolific
promise of the precious metal; far exceeding, in
the contemplation of the knowing, the lavish abundance
of Mexico and of Peru, in the days of their
palmiest and most prosperous condition. Nor,
though only the frontier and threshold as it were
to these swollen treasures, was the portion of country
now under our survey, though bleak, steril
and to the eye uninviting, wanting in attractions
of its own; it contained the signs and indications
which denoted the fertile regions, nor was it entirely
deficient in the precious mineral itself. Much gold
had been gathered already, with little labour, and
almost upon its surface; and it was perhaps only
because of the little knowledge then had of its
wealth, and of its close proximity to a more productive
territory, that it had been suffered to remain
unexamined and unexplored. Nature, thus,
we may remark, in a section of the world seemingly
unblessed with her bounty, and all ungarnished
with her fruits and flowers, appeared desirous,
however, of redeeming it from the curse
of barrenness, by storing its bosom with a product,
which, only of use to the world in its conventional
necessities, has become, in accordance
with the self-creating wants of society, a necessity
itself; and however the bloom and beauty of her
summer decorations may refresh the eye of the
enthusiast, it would here seem, that, with an extended
policy, she had created another, and perhaps
a larger class, which, in the attainment of those
spoils which are of less obvious and easy acquisition,
would even set at nought those which have
at all times been the peculiar delight and felicity
of the former. Nothing is entirely barren in her
dominions; and, to some spirits, her very solitude
and sterility seem as inviting and grateful, as to
others may appear her rich landscapes and voluptuous
flowers. “I guess I am pretty safe now from the regulators,
and saving my trouble of mind, well enough,
and nothing to complain about. Your animal goes
as slick as grease, and carried me in no time out
of reach of rifle shot—so you see it's only right
to thank God, and you, lawyer; for if God hadn't
touched you, and you hadn't lent me the nag, I
guess it would have been a sore chance for my
bones, in the hands of them savages and beasts of
prey. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 147 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Add | | | Title: | Guy Rivers | | | | 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 night began to wane, and still did Lucy
Munro keep lonely vigil in her chamber. How
could she sleep? Threatened herself with a connexion
so dreadful as to her mind was that proposed
with Guy Rivers—deeply interested as
she now felt herself in the fortunes of the young
stranger, for whose fate and safety, knowing the
unfavourable position in which he stood with the
outlaws, she had every thing to apprehend—it can
cause no wonder when we say sleep grew a stranger
to her eyes, and without retiring to her couch,
though extinguishing her light, she sat musing by
the window of her chamber upon the thousand
conflicting and sad thoughts that were at strife in
her spirit. She had not been long in this position
when the sound of approaching horsemen reached
her ears, and after a brief interval, during which
she could perceive that they had alighted, she heard
the door of the hall gently unclosed, and footsteps,
as if set down with a nice caution, passing through
the passage. A light danced for a moment fitfully
along the chamber, as if borne from the sleeping
apartment of Munro to that adjoining the hall in
which the family were accustomed to pursue their
domestic avocations. Then came an occasional
murmur of speech to her ears, and then silence.
Perplexed with these circumstances, and wondering
at the return of Munro at an hour something
unusual—prompted too by a presentiment of something
wrong, and apprehensive on the score of
Ralph's safety—a curiosity, not surely under these
circumstances discreditable, to know what was
going on, determined her to ascertain something
more of the character of the nocturnal visitation.
She felt assured from the strangeness of the occurrence
that evil was afoot, and solicitous for its prevention,
she was persuaded to the measure solely
with the view to good. Hastily, yet cautiously, but
with trembling hands, undoing the door of her
apartment, she made her way into the long and
dark gallery, with which she was perfectly familiar,
and soon gained the apartment already referred to.
The door fortunately stood nearly closed, and she
was therefore enabled to pass it by and gain the
hall, which immediately adjoined, and lay in perfect
darkness; without herself being seen, she was
enabled, through a crevice in the partition dividing
the two rooms, to survey its inmates, and to hear
distinctly at the same time every thing that was
uttered. As she expected, there were the two conspirators,
Rivers and Munro, earnestly engaged in
discourse; to which, as it concerns materially our
progress, we may well be permitted to lend our
attention. They spoke on a variety of topics entirely
foreign to the understanding of the half-affrighted
and nervously-susceptible, but still resolute
young girl who heard them; and nothing but
her deep anxieties for one, whose own importance
in her eyes at that moment she did not conjecture,
could have sustained her while listening to a dialogue
full of atrocious intention and development,
and larded throughout with a familiar and sometimes
foul phraseology that certainly was not altogether
unseemly in such association. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 148 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Add | | | Title: | The partisan | | | | 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: | Our narrative begins in South Carolina, during the
summer of 1780. The arms of the British were at that
time triumphant throughout the colony. Their armies
overran it. Charlestown, the chief city, had stood a
siege, and had fallen, after a protracted and honourable
defence. One-half of the military strength of the lower
country, then the most populous region, had become prisoners
of war by this disaster; and, for the present, were
thus incapacitated from giving any assistance to their
brethren in arms. Scattered, crushed, and disheartened
by repeated failures, the whigs, in numerous instances,
hopeless of any better fortune, had given in their adhesion
to the enemy, and had received a pledge of British
protection. This protection secured them, as it was
thought, in their property and persons, and its conditions
simply called for their neutrality. Many of the
more firm and honourably tenacious, scorning all compromise
with invasion, fled for shelter to the swamps
and mountains; and, through the former, all Europe
could not have traced their footsteps. In the whole
state, at this period, the cause of American liberty had
no head, and almost as little hope: all was gloomy and
unpromising. Marion, afterward styled the “Swamp
Fox,” and Sumter, the “Game Cock”—epithets aptly
descriptive of their several military attributes—had not
yet properly risen in arms, though both of them had
been engaged already in active and successful service.
Their places of retreat were at this time unknown;
and, certainly, they were not then looked to, as at an
after period, with that anxious reliance which their
valour subsequently taught their countrymen to entertain.
Nothing, indeed, could be more deplorably prostrate
than were the energies of the colony. Here and
there, only, did some little partisan squad make a stand,
or offer a show of resistance to the incursive British
or the marauding and malignant tory—disbanding, if
not defeated, most usually after the temporary object
had been obtained, and retreating for security into shelter
and inaction. There was no sort of concert, save
in feeling, among the many who were still not unwilling
for the fight: they doubted or they dreaded one
another; they knew not whom to trust. The next-door
neighbour of the stanch whig was not unfrequently a
furious loyalist—as devoted to George the Third as the
other could have been to the intrinsic beauty of human
liberty. The contest of the Revolution, so far as it had
gone, had confirmed and made tenacious this spirit of
hostility and opposition, until, in the end, patriot and
loyalist had drawn the sword against one another, and
rebel and tory were the degrading epithets by which
they severally distinguished the individual whose throat
they strove to cut. When the metropolis fell into the
hands of the British, and their arms extended through
the state, the tories alone were active and formidable.
They now took satisfaction for their own previous
trials; and crime was never so dreadful a monster as
when they ministered to its appetites. Mingled in with
the regular troops of the British, or forming separate
bodies of their own, and officered from among themselves,
they penetrated the well-known recesses which
gave shelter to the fugitives. If the rebel resisted, they
slew him without quarter; if he submitted, they hung
him without benefit of clergy: they spoiled his children
of their possessions, and not unfrequently slew them
also. But few sections of the low and middle country
escaped their search. It was only in the bald regions
of North Carolina that the fugitives could find repose;
only where the most miserable poverty took from crime
all temptation, that the beaten and maltreated patriots
dared to give themselves a breathing-space from flight.
In the same manner the frontier-colony of Georgia had
already been overrun and ravaged by the conquerors;
and there, as it was less capable of resistance, all show
of opposition had been long since at an end. The invader,
deceived by these appearances, declared in
swelling language to his monarch, that the two colonies
were properly subjugated, and would now return
to their obedience. He knew not that, | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 149 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Add | | | Title: | The partisan | | | | 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 clouds were gathering fast—the waters were
troubled—and the approaching tumult and disquiet of
all things in Carolina, clearly indicated the coming of
that strife, so soon to overcast the scene—so long to
keep it darkened—so deeply to impurple it with blood.
The continentals were approaching rapidly, and the
effect was that of magic upon the long prostrated energies
of the South. The people were aroused, awakened,
stimulated, and emboldened. They gathered in
little squads throughout the country. The news was
generally abroad that Gates was to command the expected
army—Gates, the conqueror at Saratoga, whose
very name, at that time, was a host. The successes of
Sumter in the up-country, of Marion on the Peedee, of
Pickens with a troop of mounted riflemen—a new species
of force projected by himself—of Butler, of Horry,
James, and others, were generally whispered about
among the hitherto desponding whigs. These encouraging
prospects were not a little strengthened in
the parishes by rumours of small successes nearer at
hand. The swamps were now believed to be full of
enemies to royal power, only wanting imbodiment and
arms; and truly did Tarleton, dilating upon the condition
of things at this period in the colony, give a
melancholy summary of those influences which were
crowding together, as it was fondly thought by the
patriots, for the overwhelming of foreign domination. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 150 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Add | | | Title: | The Yemassee | | | | 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 is a small section of country now comprised
within the limits of Beaufort District, in the State of
South Carolina, which, to this day, goes by the name
of Indian Land. The authorities are numerous which
show this district, running along, as it does, and on its
southern side bounded by, the Atlantic Ocean, to have
been the very first in North America, distinguished by
an European settlement. The design is attributed to
the celebrated Coligni, Admiral of France,[1]
[1]Dr. Melligan, one of the historians of South Carolina, says farther,
that a French settlement, under the same auspices, was actually
made at Charleston, and that the country received the name of La
Caroline, in honour of Charles IX. This is not so plausible, however,
for as the settlement was made by Huguenots, and under the auspices
of Coligni, it savours of extravagant courtesy to suppose that they
would pay so high a compliment to one of the most bitter enemies
of that religious toleration, in pursuit of which they deserted their
country. Charleston took its name from Charles IL, the reigning
English monarch at the time. Its earliest designation was Oyster
Point town, from the marine formation of its soil. Dr. Hewatt—
another of the early historians of Carolina, who possessed many advantages
in his work not common to other writers, having been a
careful gatherer of local and miscellaneous history—places the first
settlement of Jasper de Coligni, under the conduct of Jean Ribaud, at
the mouth of a river called Albemarle, which, strangely enough, the
narration finds in Florida. Here Ribaud is said to have built a fort,
and by him the country was called Carolina. May river, another
alleged place of original location for this colony, has been sometimes
identified with the St. John's and other waters of Florida or
Virginia; but opinion in Carolina settles down in favour of a stream
still bearing that name, and in Beaufort District, not far from the subsequent
permanent settlement. Old ruins, evidently French in their
origin, still exist in the neighbourhood.
who, in the
reign of Charles IX., conceived the project with the ulterior
view of securing a sanctuary for the Huguenots,
when they should be compelled, as he foresaw they
soon would, by the anti-religious persecutions of the
time, to fly from their native into foreign regions. This
settlement, however, proved unsuccessful; and the
events which history records of the subsequent efforts
of the French to establish colonies in the same neighbourhood,
while of unquestionable authority, have all
the air and appearance of the most delightful romance. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 151 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Add | | | Title: | The Yemassee | | | | 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: | Some men only live for great occasions. They
sleep in the calm—but awake to double life, and unlooked-for
activity, in the tempest. They are the
zephyr in peace, the storm in war. They smile until
you think it impossible they should ever do otherwise,
and you are paralyzed when you behold the change
which an hour brings about in them. Their whole life
in public would seem a splendid deception; and as their
minds and feelings are generally beyond those of the
great mass which gathers about, and in the end depends
upon them, so they continually dazzle the vision and
distract the judgment of those who passingly observe
them. Such men become the tyrants of all the rest,
and, as there are two kinds of tyranny in the world,
they either enslave to cherish or to destroy. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 152 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Add | | | Title: | Mellichampe | | | | 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 battle of Dorchester was over; the victorious
Partisans, successful in their object, and bearing away
with them the prisoner whom they had rescued from the
felon's death, were already beyond the reach of their
enemies, when Colonel Proctor, the commander of the
British post, sallied forth from his station in the hope to
retrieve, if possible, the fortunes of the day. A feeling
of delicacy, and a genuine sense of pain, had prompted
him to depute to a subordinate officer the duty of attending
Colonel Walton to the place of execution. The rescue
of the prisoner had the effect of inducing in his mind
a feeling of bitter self-reproach. The mortified pride
of the soldier, tenacious of his honour, and scrupulous
on the subject of his trust, succeeded to every feeling
of mere human forbearance; and, burning with shame
and indignation, the moment he heard a vague account
of the defeat of the guard and the rescue of Walton, he
led forth the entire force at his command, resolute to recover
the fugitive or redeem his forfeited credit by his
blood. He had not been prepared for such an event as
that which has been already narrated in the last pages of
“The Partisan,” and was scarcely less surprised, though
more resolute and ready, than the astounded soldiers
under his command. How should he have looked for
the presence of any force of the rebels at such a moment,
when the defeat and destruction of Gates's army,
so complete as it had been, had paralyzed, in the minds
of all, the last hope of the Americans? With an audacity
that seemed little less than madness, and was desperation,
a feeble but sleepless enemy had darted in between
the fowler and his prey—had wrested the victim of
the conqueror from his talons, even in the moment of
his fierce repast; and, with a wild courage and planned
impetuosity, had rushed into the very jaws of danger,
without shrinking, and with the most complete impunity. “`Dare Gin'ral—There's a power of red-coats jist
guine down by the back lane into your parts, and they do
tell that it's arter you they're guine. They're dressed
mighty fine, and has a heap of guns and horses, and as
much provisions as the wagons can tote. I makes bold
to tell you this, gin'ral, that you may smite them, hip and
thigh, even as the Israelites smote the bloody Philistians
in the blessed book. And so, no more, dare gin'ral,
from your sarvant to command, | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 153 | Author: | Simms
William Gilmore
1806-1870 | Add | | | Title: | Mellichampe | | | | 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: | Let us retrace our steps—let us go back in our
narrative, and review the feelings and the fortunes of
other parties to our story, not less important to its details,
and quite as dear in our regards. Let us seek
the temporary dwelling of the Berkeley family, and contemplate
the condition and the employment of its inmates
during the progress of the severe strife of which
we have given a partial history. Its terrors were not
less imposing to them than they were to those who had
been actors in the conflict. To the young maidens,
indeed, it certainly was far more terrible than to the
brave men, warmed with the provocation and reckless
from the impulses of strife. And yet, how differently
did the events of the day affect the two maidens—how
forcibly did they bring out and illustrate their very different
characters. To the casual observer there was
very little change in the demeanour of Janet Berkeley.
She seemed the same subdued, sad, yet enduring and
uncomplaining creature, looking for affliction because
she had been so often subjected to its pressure; yet,
from that very cause, looking for it without apprehension,
and in all the strength of religious resignation. “You must convey the prisoner, Mellichampe,” so
ran that portion of it which concerned the maiden, “so
soon as his wounds will permit, under a strong guard, to
the city, where a court of officers will be designated for
his trial as a spy upon your encampment. You will
spare no effort to secure all the evidence necessary to
his conviction, and will yourself attend to the preferment
of the charges.” And there, after the details of other
matters and duties to be attended to and executed, was
the signature of the bloody dragoon, which she more
than once had seen before— | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 155 | Author: | Whittier
John Greenleaf
1807-1892 | Add | | | Title: | Legends of New-England | | | | 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 hundred years ago!—How has New-England
changed with the passing by of a single century! At
first view, it would seem like the mysterious transformations
of a dream, or like the strange mutations of
sunset-clouds upon the face of the Summer Heavens.
One hundred years ago!—The Oak struck its roots
deeply in the Earth, and tossed its branches loftily in
the sunshine, where now the voice of industry and
enterprise rises in one perpetual murmur. The shadows
of the forest lay brown and heavily, where now
the village church-spire overtops the dwellings clustered
about it. Instead of the poor, dependent and feeble
colonists of Britain, we are now a nation of ourselves—a
people, great and prosperous and happy. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 156 | Author: | Irving
Washington
1783-1859 | Add | | | Title: | A book of the Hudson | | | | 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 used to be a favorite assertion of the venerable Diedrich
Knickerbocker, that there was no region more rich in themes
for the writer of historic novels, heroic melodramas, and
rough-shod epics, than the ancient province of the New
Netherlands, and its quondam capital, at the Manhattoes.
“We live,” he used to say, “in the midst of history, mystery,
and romance; he who would find these elements, however,
must not seek them among the modern improvements and
monied people of the monied metropolis; he must dig for
them, as for Kidd the pirate's treasures, in out of the way
places, and among the ruins of the past.” Never did sage
speak more truly. Poetry and romance received a fatal blow
at the overthrow of the ancient Dutch dynasty, and have ever
since been gradually withering under the growing domination
of the Yankees. They abandoned our hearths when the old
Dutch tiles were superseded by marble chimney pieces; when
brass andirons made way for polished grates, and the crackling
and blazing fire of nut wood gave place to the smoke and
stench of Liverpool coal; and on the downfall of the last
crow-step gables, their requiem was tolled from the tower of
the Dutch Church in Nassau street, by the old bell that came
from Holland. But poetry and romance still lurk unseen
among us, or seen only by the enlightened few who are able
to contemplate the common-place scenes and objects of the
metropolis, through the medium of tradition, and clothed with
the associations of foregone ages. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 157 | Author: | Jones
J. B.
(John Beauchamp)
1810-1866 | Add | | | Title: | The western merchant | | | | 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 was born in one of the eastern cities, and was the sixth
of eleven children, of poor parents. When I was about
six years of age, my family emigrated to Kentucky, then
considered the “far west.” At the end of six years, my
father failed in business; and as he was now entirely too
poor to provide for his large family, those that were deemed
old enough sought employment to support themselves.
Nor were they wholly unprepared for the exigency; for
our honored parent, in more propitious times, had placed
the proper estimate upon the importance of education, and
from the time we were old enough to go to school, until
the loss of his fortune, (and every dollar was honorably
offered up to his creditors,) we had excellent preceptors.
Being unluckily the sixth child, I was not so far advanced
in the books as my seniors, when the disaster alluded to
befell us—but as I had the advantage of my five juniors,
there was no just cause of complaint. I had the rudiments
of a good English education, and an insatiable passion for
books, which they deemed quite sufficient for the very
humble part it seemed I was destined to play in the great
drama of life. “Dear Luke:—I cannot restrain myself any longer from
writing to you. Your last letter, informing me of your good
prospects, and of your intention to commence business for
yourself at Hanover, was directed to me, and not in an
envelope to a third person—so it fell into the hands of
my guardian-uncle, and excited his wrath and indignation
to a frightful extent. But the worst of it was that he did
not tell me what it was all about, but kept the letter himself.
Now, I am my own mistress, and have some fortune
here in old Virginia in my own right. I might at any time
13
relieve myself of his supervision, and his eccentric solicitude.
Yet as my uncles are the nearest of kin that I have,
I hope to be able to avoid a rupture with them. But to
my narration. A few days after your letter fell into his
hands, he announced his intention to take me to Virginia,
and leave me under the protection of his brother, my uncle
Edgar Beaufort. Not being aware of the cause which induced
this step on his part, I was delighted with the idea
of going back to old Virginia, and so I readily agreed to
his proposition, without paying any particular attention to
his remarks about the opportunity the change would afford
me of marrying some one of my own station, equal in birth
and fortune. “Luke, if you come to see me, remember it is merely
the careless passing visit of a friend. There is a Methodist
meeting house near the — hotel, in which they are
holding a protracted meeting. If you follow a merry little
old woman (you will know her by her shouting in the meeting
house) to her broading-house, you will find me. My
uncle is here, and might be harsh if he met you. Should
you meet, you must not resent anything he may say, and
above all, have no hostile collision with him. You must
register a promise in heaven to do as I bid, before starting
hitherward; else you have not my permission to come.
Remember “Sir—In violation of the expressed desire of my brother,
you have persisted in addressing letters to my niece; you
have not only done that, but you have had the presumption
to seek and obtain a clandestine interview with her.
Being her next of kin, and natural protector, I deem it incumbent
on me to demand, in this formal manner, the satisfaction
which one gentleman has a right to require of another
(and which no gentleman can refuse), for such an intrusive
disregard of the wishes expressed by my brother, and endorsed
by myself. “Dear Sir—I am at No. 6, — hotel, an entire stranger,
and have received a challenge from Mr. E. Beaufort to
meet him in mortal combat. I have never seen Mr. Beaufort
before to-day, and certainly never insulted or injured
him. If you will consent to give me the benefit of your
advice in the premises, I will avail myself of the opportunity
to relate all the circumstances of the case to you. “Luke:—The servant who hands you this, belongs to
me, and has informed me that my uncle has challenged
you to mortal combat. He says he heard my uncle tell
his friends that he liked your appearance so much, he was
almost sorry that he had quarreled with you, and that if
you behaved well on the field, he would tender you his
friendship, after an exchange of shots, which he hoped
might have no serious result. Now, Luke, are you willing
to fight for me? You have never said you desired to
have me, nor I that I was at your service. I desire it to
be distinctly understood by you, as it is sufficiently by
him, that I am not at the disposal of my uncle. I am of
age, and am my own mistress. My uncle is kind to me
in my presence, and never seeks to control my actions.
Should I make an unworthy alliance, the worst thing he
could do, or would have a desire to attempt, would be to
abandon my society. You now understand the relation in
which we stand. I do not, however, wish to break with
my uncle. He is generous, brave, and magnanimous; and
of course it would wound me past recovery if you, my
friend, should slay him in a duel. Thus you see that, by
acceding to his proposition, to obtain his friendship, you
would lose mine. Of that you may be assured. If you
resolve to meet him, I resolve never to see you again. You
must choose between him and me. But if you determine
to accede to my request, and depart without a collision with
him, you have my promise that, at a future day, should
it be your pleasure, you can see me again, unchanged
in every particular. “Sir:—I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of
your note of this morning. In reply, I have to state that,
inasmuch as no definite proposal has been made by me to
your niece, and as my engagements will demand my unintermitting
presence at a point some two thousand miles
distant from this, for at least a year to come, I must decline
the meeting you demand, at least for the present.
Should fortune bring me again in the vicinity of your niece,
at some future day, and it should then be your pleasure to
renew the demand, that will be the proper time for me to
announce my final decision. “Luke,” said Blanche, “if you have seen proper to afflict
yourself without reason, it was cruel to afflict Blanche
also, who never did you any harm. And now, if you persist
in dying, you may have the consolation, if the fact
can console you, of knowing that Blanche will die also,
murdered by you. * * * * You declare your love, and announce
your purpose never to see me more. Would it
not have been generous to have withheld the declaration,
and left me in doubt? Luke, did you know that the passion
was mutual? You have spoken plainly, at last; and
I will do so too. Never, since we first parted, no, never for
a moment, have I entertained the shadow of a thought that
I could or would bestow my hand on any other than yourself—and
such is the case still. * * * * * Luke, I have
been addressed by several since we parted last, and all
have abandoned the pursuit on learning my purpose,
which I have frankly made known to them. My uncle
took me to the falls of Niagara, Saratoga Springs, and
divers other gay places last summer; but all in vain: he
found that it was impossible to wean me from my first
attachment. On my return, I pronounced my last positive
rejection of the suit of the one whom my uncle preferred.
Luke, we were standing on the balcony of a hotel in
23
Philadelphia, when he desired to know my decision. At
that moment I thought I beheld your pale features, and
that you cast upon me a look of reproach and sadness. A
monosyllable sufficed for my petitioner, and I did not even
have the curiosity to look after him, and observe how
deeply he was disappointed and piqued. I had eyes only
for the vision before me, if vision it was. I felt that Providence
had linked our destinies together by adamantine
chains, and I had no disposition to rupture them if they
had been formed of a weaker material. Luke, was it you?
Oh, if it was, how cruel not to come and speak to me!
* * * * * * Luke, when I learned through the newspapers
of your loss on that terrible steamer, my mind was made
up. It was my fixed determination to place myself and
my little fortune in your keeping, if you desired it, as soon
as we met. How could you suppose that the loss of your
money might involve the loss of my affection? No, Luke,
you have not yet learned fully the character of Blanche.
In misfortune she will cling the more closely to you, and
be all the bolder in her ministrations of solace and encouragement.
* * * * * Adhere Steadfastly to your Business. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 160 | Author: | Kennedy
John Pendleton
1795-1870 | Add | | | Title: | Horse Shoe Robinson | | | | 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 belt of mountains which traverses the state of Virginia
diagonally, from north-east to south-west, it will be seen by an
inspection of the map, is composed of a series of parallel ranges,
presenting a conformation somewhat similar to that which may be
observed in miniature on the sea-beach, amongst the minute lines of
sand hillocks left by the retreating tide. This belt may be said to
commence with the Blue Ridge, or more accurately speaking, with
that inferior chain of highlands that runs parallel to this mountain
almost immediately along its eastern base. From this region westward
the highlands increase in elevation, the valleys become narrower,
steeper and cooler, and the landscape progressively assumes the
wilder features which belong to what is distinctly meant by “the
mountain country.” “`By ill luck I have fallen into the possession of the Whigs. They have
received intelligence of the capture of Major Butler, and, apprehending that
some mischief might befal him, have constrained me to inform you that my
life will be made answerable for any harsh treatment that he may receive
at the hands of our friends. They are resolute men, and will certainly
make me the victim of their retaliation. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
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