Horse-Shoe Robinson


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"Mr. Kennedy has acquitted himself with great credit, and acquired permanent reputation, in sundry departments of literature - the biography, the satire, the descriptive narrative and the novel. His 'Life of Wirt' takes rank among the best of the American biographies....As a novelist the reputation of the author rests wholly upon 'Horse-Shoe Robinson.' This romance was originally published in 1835, and at once took firm hold upon the public fancy....At that time, the events of the revolution had bee little used in works of fiction. 'The Spy,' and 'Lionel Lincoln,' of Mr. Cooper, and one or more novels, by writers of less note, constituted, in that early day, the body of our romantic literature, founded upon events of the revolutionary period; and just enough had been done, in this field, to whet the popular appetite, and to indicate the excellent uses to which our struggle for independence might be put. 'Horse-Shoe Robinson' strengthened the popular faith to this effect....His merits lie in portraiture of character, and, especially, in a happy perception of the piquant and the humorous....The true attraction of the work lies wholly in the character of 'Horse-Shoe Robinson.' This is a faithful portrait of a frank, shrewd, generous, high-spirited backwoodsman; rough and untutored but warm and kindly; unlearned in books, but of admirable mother wit; quick in expedients, fertile in resource; of large experience; and of that buoyant nature which never knows how to succumb to misfortune, and so laughs under the pressure of fate as to take from it most of its sour aspects....He is one of our favorites, whom we hold in great respect as an author, and in great regard as a man. His book we cordially commend, as truthful in its spirit, and lively and attractive in its interest." -The Southern Quarterly Review




Horse Shoe Robinson


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Horse-shoe Robinson


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A PRINCE OF SINNERS


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A Captain in the Ranks: A Romance of Affairs


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The slender remnant of Lee's artillery swung slowly into position a few miles west of Appomattox Court House. Wearily—but with spirit still—the batteries parked their guns in a field facing a strip of woodland. The guns were few in number now, but they were all that was left of those that had done battle on a score of historic fields. Lee had been forced out of his works at Richmond and Petersburg a week before. Ever since, with that calm courage which had sustained him throughout the later and losing years of the war, he had struggled and battled in an effort to retreat to the Roanoke River. He had hoped there to unite the remnant of his army with what was left of Johnston's force, and to make there a final and desperate stand. In this purpose he had been baffled. Grant's forces were on his southern flank, and they had steadily pressed him back toward the James River on the north. In that direction there was no thoroughfare for him. Neither was there now in any other. Continual battling had depleted his army until it numbered now scarcely more than ten thousand men all told, and starvation had weakened these so greatly that only the heroism of despair enabled them to fight or to march at all. The artillery that was parked out there in front of Appomattox Court House was only a feeble remnant of that which had fought so long and so determinedly. Gun after gun had been captured. Gun after gun had been dismounted in battle struggle. Caisson after caisson had been blown up by the explosion of shells striking them. Captain Guilford Duncan, at the head of eleven mounted men, armed only with sword and pistols, paused before entering the woodlands in front. He looked about in every direction, and, with an eye educated by long experience in war, he observed the absence of infantry support.