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EDITED BY GEORGE LUNT . . . this story’s actually true. If any person doubt it, I appeal To history, tradition, and to facts, To newspapers, whose truth all know and feel. BYRON NEW YORK PUBLISHED BY HURD AND HOUGHTON Cambridge: The Riverside Press 1873
Entered, according to Act of
Congress, in the year 1873, by
GEORGE LUNT, in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE: STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY H. O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY. INTRODUCTION CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 3 CHAPTER 4 CHAPTER 5 CHAPTER 6 CHAPTER 7 CHAPTER 8 APPENDIX THE Editor of this little volume
does not deem it incumbent upon him to explain in what way the author’s
manuscript carne into his possession. He hopes it may be enough for him to say,
that the writer believed himself to be the only person whose memory retained
most of the incidents and anecdotes herein recorded; and a long and familiar
acquaintance with his character enables the Editor to state, that entire
credence is due to his narrative of facts, written down as occurring within his
own knowledge and to his relation of whatever he alleges himself to have
derived from others. A slight veil of mystery seems to have been originally
thrown over the story; especially in regard to the names of persons; but, as
all who are familiar with the locality will at once recognize its general
features, the Editor has thought it best, for the benefit of others not so well
informed, to make all proper explanations on this point in the Index. Sometimes, New England has been
spoken of as devoid of the elements of romance; but perhaps this idea may be
owing to the fact, that the means of presenting a different aspect of the case
have not been sufficiently investigated. A similar impression has prevailed in
respect to Roman history and literature, whether fabulous or otherwise; and the
fathers of New England, at least, have been thought to have exhibited some of
the traits, especially the simplicity and severity of character, which
distinguished those more ancient worthies, whose names and deeds have been so
long famous. But without making other citations, I may remark, that I am
scarcely acquainted with a poem more thoroughly romantic in conception and
sentiment, than “Gallus,” the tenth eclogue of Virgil; and Macaulay, in his
“Lays of Ancient Rome,” has turned some of its legends to fine poetical
account. Where can be found, for instance, a prettier, or more suggestive
picture, than the passage in his “Virginia,” which some inspired painter might
make immortal upon canvas, as it is in verse: — “With her small tablets in her hand,
and her satchel on her arm, Home she went bounding from the
school, nor dreamed of shame or harm.” Perhaps, the solemnities of the
colonial history of New England may have overshadowed much of whatever poetical
interest might be discovered in its private annals. It depends upon the reader,
whether the present narrative may be thought in some measure to qualify the
imputation in question. G. L. |