| | 1 | Author: | De Forest
John William
1826-1906 | Add | | | Title: | Miss Ravenel's conversion from secession to loyalty  | | | | Published: | 2001 | | | | 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 shortly after the capitulation of loyal Fort Sumter
to rebellious South Carolina that Mr. Edward Colburne
of New Boston made the acquaintance of Miss Lillie
Ravenel of New Orleans. “My dear Colonel,” it ran, “I am sorry that I can give
you no better news. Waldo and I have worked like Trojans,
but without bringing anything to pass. You will
see by enclosed copy of application to the Secretary, that
we got a respectable crowd of Senators and Representatives
to join in demanding a step for you. The Secretary is all
right; he fully acknowledges your claims. But those
infernal bigots, the Sumner and Wilson crowd, got ahead
of us. They went to headquarters, civil and military. We
couldn't even secure your nomination, much less a senatorial
majority for confirmation. These cursed fools mean
to purify the army, they say. They put McClellan's defeat
down to his pro-slavery sentiments, and Pope's defeat to
I
McClellan. They intend to turn out every moderate man,
and shove in their own sort. They talk of making Banks
head of the Army of the Potomac, in place of McClellan,
who has just saved the capital and the nation. There
never was such fanaticism since the Scotch ministers at
Dunbar undertook to pray and preach down Cromwell's
army. You are one of the men whom they have black-balled.
They have got hold of the tail-end of some old
plans of yours in the filibustering days, and are making the
most of it to show that you are unfit to command a brigade
in `the army of the Lord.' They say you are not the
man to march on with old John Brown's soul and hang
Jeff. Davis on a sour apple-tree. I think you had better
take measures to get rid of that filibustering ghost. I have
another piece of advice to offer. Mere administrative
ability in an office these fellows can't appreciate; but they
can be dazzled by successful service in the field, because
that is beyond their own cowardly possibilities; also because
it takes with their constituents, of whom they are the
most respectful and obedient servants. So why not give
up your mayoralty and go in for the autumn campaign?
If you will send home your name with a victory attached
to it, I think we can manufacture a a public opinion to
compel your nomination and confirmation. Mind, I am
not finding fault. I know that nothing can be done in
Louisiana during the summer. But blockheads don't know
this, and in politics we are forced to appeal to blockheads;
our supreme court of decisions is, after all, the twenty
millions of ignorami who do the voting. Accordingly, I
advise you to please these twenty millions by putting yourself
into the fall campaign. “My dear Lillie,” began the first; and here she paused
to kiss the words, and wipe away the tears. “We have
had a smart little fight, and whipped the enemy handsomely.
Weitzel managed matters in a way that really
does him great credit, and the results are one cannon,
three hundred prisoners, possession of the killed and
wounded, and of the field of battle. Our loss was trifling,
and includes no one whom you know. Life and
limb being now doubly valuable to me for your sake, I
am happy to inform you that I did not get hurt. I am
tired and have a great deal to do, so that I can only scratch
you a line. But you must believe me, and I know that
you will believe me, when I tell you that I have the heart
to write you a dozen sheets instead of only a dozen sentences.
Good bye, my dear one. “My dear Doctor,—I have had the greatest pleasure
of my whole life; I have fought under the flag of my
country, and seen it victorious. I have not time to write
particulars, but you will of course get them in the papers.
Our regiment behaved most nobly, our Colonel proved
himself a hero, and our General a genius. We are encamped
for the night on the field of battle, cold and hungry,
but brimming over with pride and happiness. There
may be another battle to-morrow, but be sure that we shall
conquer. Our men were greenhorns yesterday, but they
are veterans to-day, and will face any thing. Ask Miss
Ravenel if she will not turn loyal for the sake of our gallant
little army. It deserves even that compliment. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 3 | Author: | De Forest
John William
1826-1906 | Add | | | Title: | Playing the mischief | | | | Published: | 2001 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | JOSEPHINE MURRAY was one of those
young women whom every body likes
very much on a first acquaintance. “My dear Friend”—her epistle ran—
“Why did you not take the kind trouble to
tell me all that with your own kind lips?
It would have been so much more friendly
on your part, and I should have understood
every thing so much better, and without the
worry of long pondering over it. I do hope
that you will call to see me soon, if only to
assure me that you are not annoyed. Cordially,
your friend, “My dear Uncle” (he read),—“I can
not tell you how keenly I regret that any
difference should have arisen between us. I
assure you that I set the very highest value
upon the good opinion and friendship of
yourself and my dear, excellent, generous
aunt. To recover your consideration and
kindness I would do more than for any other
object which I can conceive. I feel all
this the more deeply because I hear that
your wife is ill. Is it possible that I have
been in any way the cause of her sickness?
If so, it would comfort me very much to be
allowed to see her, and to tell her of my regret
and my lasting affection. Could she
grant me this favor, and could you sanction
it? Do pray have the goodness to let me
know whether this may be. Very affectionately,
your niece, “My dear Josie” (he wrote her),—“You
have not received me for two days past.
May I ask, in all kindness, if you have tired
of me? I must remember that your situation
has changed since the day I was happy
enough to secure the promise of your hand,
and the gift, as I then trusted, of your heart.
You were then in moderate circumstances;
you, perhaps, stood in need of a protector.
Now you are rich, and can suffice for yourself,
and can do without me. Do not, I earnestly
beg of you, suppose that I wish to get
free from my engagement, or that I could
part with you, even at your desire and for
your good, without great suffering. I only
wish to be kind, to be honorable, and to show
myself truly loving. For this reason alone,
and for the sole purpose of sacrificing myself,
if need be, to your happiness, I set you free
from your engagement. But to-morrow I
shall call again, shall beg to see a lady who
is now as much above me in fortune as in all
things else, and shall renew my offer of marriage.
Very respectfully and very lovingly,
yours, “My dearest Friend,—How could you
so misjudge me? Be sure you keep your
promise to come and see me. Those who know Mr. Drummond intimately,
and those who have had the startling good
fortune to listen to him in his moments of
épanchement, can imagine how he blasphemed
over this letter. One comment, however, is
sufficiently decorous for quotation, and sufficiently
keen to be worthy of it. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 4 | Author: | De Forest
John William
1826-1906 | Add | | | Title: | Seacliff, or, The mystery of the Westervelts | | | | Published: | 2001 | | | | 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 exactly a year since I had said good-bye to Mr.
and Mrs. Westervelt, and to the two Misses Westervelt,
in Switzerland. “I write this at the earnest request of my daughter,
who is a friend of yours, and who wishes me to interfere
between you and the slanders of a certain young man who is
in the habit of visiting your country-house. My child has
repeated some of these falsehoods to me, while others are
of so shocking a nature that she declares she will never utter
them to a human being. I will not state a single one of the
vile fictions here, because I do not wish to pain you, and also
because your character is so pure that you will never find it
necessary to contradict them. Your friends will do that for
you. But even if the slanders are not worth your notice,
the slanderer ought to be punished. Of course, you will
simply exclude him from your society, without explaining
the reason to him or to any one else. The less said in
such matters, the sooner they are over. His name is Fitz
Hugh. “Dear Grandchild,—Mr. Louis Fitz Hugh has called on
me and requested your hand in marriage. I am pleased
with his statements, as well as his appearance; and, from
what I can learn concerning him, I infer that you have made
a good choice and shown your usual discretion. Your father
having left me to decide concerning the acceptance of Mr.
Fitz Hugh's suit, I take pleasure in saying that I see no
sufficient objection to it, and that I shall be happy to welcome
him into our family. I must inform you, however, that his
income is small, and that, if you marry him, you must make
up your mind to economy. But this will be all the better for
you. I should despise a girl who would draw back from a
marriage on this account. Economy is not only a virtue, but
a talent; and you ought to be proud to show that you are
capable of it. “Dear Sir,—I find that my son has not yet turned out that
rascally Somerville, and dares not do it. I beg and insist
that you take immediate measures to send him adrift, even if
you and the gardener have to kick him off. He is such a
notorious, dirty rogue that his mere presence is enough to
ruin the name of a decent family; and, in addition, I find
that he has set afloat some scandalous stories concerning my
son's wife. Oust him instanter. Break his bones if necessary.
I will pay all damages. My son, by my desire, will
be at Seacliff to-morrow, and will support you with his authority,
whatever that may amount to. “Dear Sir,—I find that my son has not yet turned out that
rascally Somerville, and dares not do it. I beg and insist
that you take immediate measures to send him adrift, even if
you and the gardener have to kick him off. He is such a
notorious, dirty rogue that his mere presence is enough to
ruin the name of a decent family; and, in addition, I find
that he has set afloat some scandalous stories concerning my
son's wife. Oust him instanter. Break his bones if necessary.
I will pay all damages. My son, by my desire, will
be at Seacliff to-morrow, and will support you with his authority,
whatever that may amount to. “Dear Sir,—I find that my son has not yet turned out that
rascally Somerville, and dares not do it. I beg and insist
that you take immediate measures to send him adrift, even if
you and the gardener have to kick him off. He is such a
notorious, dirty rogue that his mere presence is enough to
ruin the name of a decent family; and, in addition, I find
that he has set afloat some scandalous stories concerning my
son's wife. Oust him instanter. Break his bones if necessary.
I will pay all damages. My son, by my desire, will
be at Seacliff to-morrow, and will support you with his authority,
whatever that may amount to. “Dear Sir,—I find that my son has not yet turned out that
rascally Somerville, and dares not do it. I beg and insist
that you take immediate measures to send him adrift, even if
you and the gardener have to kick him off. He is such a
notorious, dirty rogue that his mere presence is enough to
ruin the name of a decent family; and, in addition, I find
that he has set afloat some scandalous stories concerning my
son's wife. Oust him instanter. Break his bones if necessary.
I will pay all damages. My son, by my desire, will
be at Seacliff to-morrow, and will support you with his authority,
whatever that may amount to. “I wish you in the first place to believe that I love you
from the bottom of my heart, and that never, never since our
marriage have I been unfaithful to you in deed or thought.
I declare this to you most solemnly, as if with my dying
breath; and I will repeat it to you at the last great day; and
God knows that it is the truth. Do not, I beg of you, believe
one word that Mr. Somerville may say against my honor as
a wife. I have sins enough to answer for, but not that one. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 5 | Author: | Derby
George Horatio
1823-1861 | Add | | | Title: | Phœnixiana; or, Sketches and burlesques | | | | Published: | 2001 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | Of a Military Survey and Reconnoissance of the route from San Francisco to the
Mission of Dolores, made with a view to ascertain the practicability
of connecting those points by a Railroad.*
* The Mission Dolores is only 2½ miles from the City Hall of San Francisco, and
is a favorite suburban locality, lying within the limits of the City Survey. This fact
is noted for the benefit of distant readers of these sketches.
It having been definitely determined, that the great Railroad,
connecting the City of San Francisco with the head of
navigation on Mission Creek, should be constructed without
unnecessary delay, a large appropriation ($120,000) was
granted, for the purpose of causing thorough military examinations
to be made of the proposed routes. The routes,
which had principally attracted the attention of the public,
were “the Northern,” following the line of Brannan Street,
“the Central,” through Folsom Street, and “the extreme
Southern,” passing over the “Old Plank Road” to the Mission.
Each of these proposed routes has many enthusiastic
advocates; but “the Central” was, undoubtedly, the favorite
of the public, it being more extensively used by emigrants
from San Francisco to the Mission, and therefore more
widely and favorably known than the others. It was to the
examination of this route, that the Committee, feeling a confidence
(eminently justified by the result of my labors) in my
experience, judgment and skill as a Military Engineer, appointed
me on the first instant. Having notified that Honorable
Body of my acceptance of the important trust confided
to me, in a letter, wherein I also took occasion to congratulate
them on the good judgment they had evinced, I drew
from the Treasurer the amount ($40,000) appropriated for
my peculiar route, and having invested it securely in loans
at three per cent a month (made, to avoid accident, in my
own name), I proceeded to organize my party for the expedition. Miss Pelican.—Never during our dramatic experience, has a
more exciting event occurred than the sudden bursting upon our
theatrical firmament, full, blazing, unparalleled, of the bright, resplendent
and particular star, whose honored name shines refulgent
at the head of this article. Coming among us unheralded,
almost unknown, without claptrap, in a wagon drawn by oxen
across the plains, with no agent to get up a counterfeit enthusiasm
in her favor, she appeared before us for the first time at the
San Diego Lyceum, last evening, in the trying and difficult character
of Ingomar, or the Tame Savage. We are at a loss to
describe our sensations, our admiration, at her magnificent, her
superhuman efforts. We do not hesitate to say that she is by
far the superior of any living actress; and, as we believe hers to
be the perfection of acting, we cannot be wrong in the belief
that no one hereafter will ever be found to approach her. Her
conception of the character of Ingomar was perfection itself; her
playful and ingenuous manner, her light girlish laughter, in the
scene with Sir Peter, showed an appreciation of the savage
character, which nothing but the most arduous study, the most
elaborate training could produce; while her awful, change to the
stern, unyielding, uncompromising father in the tragic scene of
Duncan's murder, was indeed nature itself. Miss Pelican is
about seventeen years of age, of miraculous beauty, and most
thrilling voice. It is needless to say she dresses admirably,
as in fact we have said all we can say when we called her most
truthfully, perfection. Mr. John Boots took the part of Parthenia
very creditably, etc., etc. Miss Pelican.—As this lady is about to leave us to commence
an engagement on the San Francisco stage, we should
regret exceedingly if any thing we have said about her, should
send with her a prestige which might be found undeserved on
trial. The fact is, Miss Pelican is a very ordinary actress; indeed,
one of the most indifferent ones we ever happened to see.
She came here from the Museum at Fort Laramie, and we praised
her so injudiciously that she became completely spoiled. She
has performed a round of characters during the last week, very
miserably, though we are bound to confess that her performance
of King Lear last evening, was superior to any thing of the kind
we ever saw. Miss Pelican is about forty-three years of age,
singularly plain in her personal appearance, awkward and embarrassed,
with a cracked and squeaking voice, and really dresses
quite outrageously. She has much to learn—poor thing! “PISTOL SHOOTING—A CHALLENGE. By Mr. Orion W. Mudge, Esq. The Committee on Antiquities left at once, in the night
boat, for Vallejo, the residence of their Chairman, who had
informed them of the existence at that place of some specimens
of a substance termed “Old Monongahela” lately discovered
by a scientific gentleman residing at the Capitol;
—the Committee on Geology were seen eagerly inquiring
for the omnibus for Yerba Buena Island; that on Ethnology
appointed a sub-committee for the City of San Francisco,
and made arrangements for the departure of its main body
to the upper counties of the State, for the purpose of holding
interviews with the primitive inhabitants, while the Castilian
savant in the glazed hat, who had been appointed Chairman
of the Committee on Toxicology, repaired incontinently to a
drinking saloon, where he commenced a series of experiments
in hydrostatics, with the endeavor to ascertain the quantity
of fluid possible to be raised from a glass in a given time, by
a straw applied to his mouth, which resulted so much to his
satisfaction that he was seen to emerge therefrom at four
o'clock on the following morning, in a high state of pleasurable
excitement, chanting huskily as he meandered down the
street, that highly refreshing Mexican anthem— My Dear Friend:—I presume you will be perfectly
surrounded this morning, as usual, by a crowd of heartless
office-seekers; I therefore take this method of addressing you.
I thank God, I want no office for myself or others. You
have known me for years, and have never known me to do
a mean or dishonorable action. I saw W— up at Stockton
the other day, and he is very anxious that I should be
appointed Inspector of Steamboats. He said that I needed
it, and deserved it, and that he hoped you would give it to
me; but I told him I was no office-seeker—I should never
ask you for any office. He said he would write to you about
it. Please write to me as soon as you receive this, care of
Parry & Batten. My Dear Sir:—Allow me to congratulate you on your
success in obtaining your wishes. I have called twice to see
you, but have not been able to find you in. You were kind
enough to assure me, before leaving for Washington, that I
might depend upon your friendship. I think it very improbable
that I shall be re-nominated. The water-front Extension
project has not been received with that favor that I
expected, and what with Roman and the Whigs and that
d—d Herald, I feel very doubtful. You will oblige me by
retaining in your possession, until after the Convention, the
office of — to the Custom House. I must look about me to
command the means of subsistence. I will see you again on
this subject. Mon Amie:—I ave been ver malade since that I hav arrive,
I ver muche thank you for you civilite on la vapor which
we come ici, juntos. The peoples here do say to me, you si
pued give to me the littel offices in you customs house. I
wish if si usted gustan you me shall make to be Inspectors
de cigarritos. Je l' entends muy bien. Come to me see. Sir:—I have been a dimocrat of the Jackson School
thank God for twenty years. If you sir had been erected to
an orifice by the pusillanimous sufferings of the people as I
was onst I would have no clam but sir you are appointed by
Pierce for whom I voted and King who is dead as Julia's
sister and I expectorate the office for which my friends will
ask you sir I am a plane man and wont the orifice of Prover
and taster of Brandy and wish you write to me at the Niantic
where I sick three days and have to write by a young
gentleman or come to see me before eleven o'clock when I
generally get sick Yours Mr. Colected H—. Detor Sir:—I have held for the last four years the appointment
of Surveyor of Shellfish in the Custom House, and have done
my duty and understand it. I have been a Whig, but never
interfered in politics, and should have voted for Pierce—it
was my intention—but a friend by mistake gave me a wrong
ballot, and I accidentally put it in, having been drinking a
little. Dear sir, I hope you will not dismiss me; no man in
this city understands a clam as I do, and I shall be very
much indebted to you to keep my office for the present
though have much finer offers but don't wish at present to
accept. I would respectfully call the attention of the Evening
Journal to the following fable, to be found in Esop's collection,
page 194: On receiving my long-promised file of The Pioneer, accompanied
by your affecting entreaty to “Come over into Macedonia
and help us,” deeply impressed with the importance of
the crisis, I rushed about this village as wildly as a fowl decapitated,
but with purpose more intent. Dear Sir:—Perceiving by perusal of your interesting article on Astronomy,
that you have an organ which it is presumed you would like to dispose
of, I am instructed by the vestry of the meeting-house on — street,
to enter into a negotiation with you for its purchase. Please state by return
of mail, whether or no the organ is for sale; if so, the price, and if
it is in good repair, and plays serious tunes. Lieut. —, U. S. A., San Diego, Cal. My dear Charles:—I have received your modest request
of the 4th of January, that I will give you five or ten per
cent. of any sum that Congress may hereafter, in its infinite
beneficence, appropriate to my relief; a request which you
state you make to me at the instance of “a number of officers
stationed in Texas.” | | | Similar Items: | Find |
| 6 | Author: | Derby
George Horatio
1823-1861 | Add | | | Title: | The Squibob papers | | | | Published: | 2001 | | | | Subjects: | University of Virginia Library, Text collection | UVA-LIB-Text | University of Virginia Library, Early American Fiction, 1789-1875 | UVA-LIB-EarlyAmFict1789-1875 | | | | Description: | “Dear Sir: — I am requested by a number of
your brother officers, and other gentlemen, to solicit
you to deliver the oration at the celebration
of the approaching Fourth of July, at this post. “Dear Sir: — I have the honor to acknowledge
the receipt of your very polite invitation to
address a number of my brother officers, and other
gentlemen, on the coming glorious anniversary,
at Vancouver. Dear Cate, you know I luv you mor an any
uther Girle in the World, and wat's the Reson
you allways want Me to tell you so. I no you ar
almost gitting tired of waiting for me; I no you luv
me fit to brake your hart. I no we ort to git
marid, but how kin we if we kant — sa! Wat's
the use in thinkin bout it. I thort wen I sold mi
mule that I wud have nough to pay the precher
and by you nice goun. But I tried mi luk at
poker and got strapt the fust nite. Cate, you
never played poker — in korse not. Wel, it's
a confounded mity nice game as long as you kin
sit behind a smorl par; but when you kant get a
par, the pot's gone. I luv you so much, Cate, that
I allmost hav a notion to sel me 1 horse wagin and
buck a nite or 2 at farow; but how kin I — sa!
Mi whol wagin wudent fech more an fore or 5
good staks. ile go back to the mountings an
work and dig and swet and do every thing I kin
to get money to git marid. I ain't any ways gelus,
Cate, but pleze don't hug and kiss and set on
J—n B—s lapp any noor. you know he
ain't worth shaks, he kant drink mor an 3 hornes
'thout gittin tite; I kin stand up under fiftey.
You know I kin lick him 2, and hav dun it and
kin do it agin. But I ain't a bit gelus, I no I out
to marid long ago. leven years is rether long to
kort a gal, but ile hav you yit Cate. Gentlemen, — At a large and respectable meeting
held by your guests this evening, in the bar
room of your exquisite hotel. | | | Similar Items: | Find |
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