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1Author:  Ingraham J. H. (Joseph Holt) 1809-1860Requires cookie*
 Title:  Black Ralph, or, The helmsman of Hurlgate  
 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 contemplating the interesting scenes and events of the American Revolution, we are accustomed to view them as only affecting ourselves as Americans, and as occurring only within the boundaries of our own land; so that a story of the `Revolution' to be laid in England or France would at first view startle and appear an incongruity of history. Yet the one being our foe and the other our ally, closely involve their interests as individuals with ours and throw as profound a degree of sympathy over the progress and issue of events on the common theatre of war, as if their own fields had been the scenes of contest. The war of the Revolution produced in the vales and homes of England and the vine-clad hills of France, many a scene of domestic trial and woe as touching as was daily witnessed among the rude forest homes of our own land. Brave warriors parted from wives and sweethearts in sunny France to join the issue with us for liberty; many a gallant soldier bade last adieus to a weeping maiden. ere, obedient to his king, he buckled on his sword to sail the seas to do battle against the rebels of the crown; and many a hardy patriot of our fathers shouldered his rifle, amid prayers and tears, to take the field to oppose the invader. Yet, beneath their armed breasts they wore human hearts all—the foe, the ally, and the rebel! The tears of the one fell as sweetly in the eye of Pity as the other! The roar of every battle-field shook France and England as well as our own land, penetrating the remotest hamlet, and making many an expecting heart shrink. the pulses of the three great nations were for the time bound together and throbbed as one. The interest of each was equally deep, where wives, mothers, and maidens were the judges of that interest. The war was one—the issue one to theme! And many is the tale still heard beneath the vintnor's porch in la belle France, whose theme is the war of our Revolution, and many is the sad memory of that contest yet preserved on the gossip bench of many a village ale-house in merry England. How many were the lives at that day, began in Europe that terminated in America. If every man's life, fairly written, be a romance out-doing fiction, how many thousands of truthful stories in that war opened in England or France to close their scenes here—perhaps in blood. Sir—You are commanded by the Minister of War, to give passage to America, to M. St Clair Lorraine, a Colonel, and bearer of private despatches to the Marquis de la Fayette. Dearest Madeline—I find the scheme I suggested when I was fastening on you your bracelet this afternoon, wholly impracticable for many reasons. I have determided to take passage in the same ship with you as M. St. Clair Lorraine, bearer of despatches, and meet my ship in America, where it is to join lord Howe. I have written for, and shall obtain leave, and in the mean time anticipate it. Betray no surprise or recognition on meeting me in the morning at table. I look forward to a happy passage across the Atlantic in your sweet society. You will think I am an audaucious intriguer; but what will not love undertake for its object?
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