RECTOR GEORGE CROLY - Kouroo · 2014. 9. 10. · RECTOR GEORGE CROLY RECTOR GEORGE CROLY HDT WHAT?...

RECTOR GEORGE CROLY

“NARRATIVE HISTORY” AMOUNTS TO FABULATION, THE REAL STUFF BEING MERE CHRONOLOGY

“Stack of the Artist of Kouroo” Project Rector George Croly

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RECTOR GEORGE CROLY RECTOR GEORGE CROLY

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August 17, Thursday: George Croly was born in Dublin, the son of a physician.

NOBODY COULD GUESS WHAT WOULD HAPPEN NEXT

1780

Rector George Croly “Stack of the Artist of Kouroo” Project

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George Croly was awarded the MA degree at Trinity College, Dublin and was ordained.

LIFE IS LIVED FORWARD BUT UNDERSTOOD BACKWARD?— NO, THAT’S GIVING TOO MUCH TO THE HISTORIAN’S STORIES.

LIFE ISN’T TO BE UNDERSTOOD EITHER FORWARD OR BACKWARD.

1804


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In about this year the Reverend George Croly, after preaching in Ireland for some six years, relocated to London. He would make himself the leading contributor to The Literary Gazette, and Journal of Belles Lettres, Arts, Sciences and Blackwood’s Magazine (published from 1817 to 1825). He would also be associated with the Tory magazine Britannia.

DO I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION? GOOD.

1810


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October 10, Saturday: Friend Stephen Wanton Gould wrote in his journal:

7 day 10th of 10th M 1818 / This morning was called to a melancholy Scene at The house of Aaron Dyre, whose son James departed this life a few minutes before I got into the house, he had been ill of a fever a few days & was suddenly & unexpectedly to the family, Snached from them at the age of about 19 Years, the poor family were in great afflication. — I immediately called assistance & before I returned several came in, which precluded the necessity of my staying, so I returned home being fatigued with a walk into the Neck after T Hornsby who was at the house of the late Jas Phillips. — The deceased was a very steady & promising young man & to all human appearance is a loss to the community

“Helen” offered a poem on page 650 of The London Literary Gazette, and Journal of Belles Lettres, Arts, Sciences, Etc.:

LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP.Who ever vow’d unchanging love

That did not vow deceit?This painful truth how many prove,

Yet call these moments sweet.Who parts, that does not breathe despair?

But look through future years —You’ll find the smiles of one more fair

Have dried the lover’s tears:For oh! how many live to prove

That absence is the death of Love.

But Friendship is a holier name,’Tis not a fickle breath

That ever changes; — still the same,Unalter’d e’en in death.

It is a tie binds soul to soulAcross the foaming main;

Years ere they meet their course may roll,But cannot break the chain.

For friends must part, and Friendship sigh,But yet — it knows not how to die....

CHANGE IS ETERNITY, STASIS A FIGMENT

1818

RELIGIOUS SOCIETY OF FRIENDS

LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP


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The Reverend George Croly, A.M. got married at Kensington with Miss Margaret Helen Begbie, with whom he had become acquainted because they were both associated with The Literary Gazette, and Journal of Belles Lettres, Arts, Sciences, established in London in 1817 (they had been carrying on an online flirtation by means of poetry). Their union would produce Julian Williamson Croly on December 30, 1835, Pelham Clinton Croly on July 5, 1838, and Helen Louisa Mary Croly on April 10, 1842. When this lady poet would decease in 1851 –and this is something that is entirely unexplained in the record– the husband and father would be residing in England as always but the wife and mother would be in Bangalore, India.

February 25, Thursday: Margaret Helen Begbie offered a poem, signed “Helen” and titled “The Joys of Meeting,” in The Literary Gazette, and Journal of Belles Lettres, Arts, Sciences.

Oh, I have seen the pitiless snowDescend, and lay the young flow’ret low;And yet that tender and shrinking flowerShall bloom again in the sunny hour.So have I seen some susceptible heartWither’d and torn when compell’d to part.Cold is that heart which was warm before,Yet there is a smile which could peace restore,And when that smile shall cheer it once more,It shall boast the power of the sunny rayWhich melted the chilling snow away—And the Mourner who droop’d in the hour of pain,Shall venture to lift his [her] head again!

A Quaker monthly meeting was established in Rochesterville, New York.

Friend Stephen Wanton Gould wrote in his journal:

5th day 25th of 2 M / Did not attend our Moy [Monthly] Meeting this day held at Portsmouth, with which I am not fully satisfied. I have been thro’ the day very destitute of life. — Those who attended Said it was a season of some favor but not as flowing as at sometimes the buisness was conducted with decorum & some long & tedious cases brought to a close. —Set part of the evening with my H at Sally Eastons —

1819


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September 11, Saturday: A letter was posted in Detroit that would travel on Lake Erie aboard the steamboat Walk-in-the-Water by way of Buffalo, to Washington DC. The typical transit time between Detroit and Buffalo by sailing vessel was 7-9 days. As you can see from the BUFFALO postmark, the letter would be received there on September 15th — transit time only 4 days (you can also see that there was a 2-cent ship transport fee).

A Genoa court ordered seizure of the assets of Nicolò “Deep Pockets” Paganini, against the settlement he had yet to pay to the widow of Ferdinando Cavanna (plus accumulating interest).1

Friend Stephen Wanton Gould wrote in his journal:

7th day 11th of 9th M / It is a melancholy time in Town, there are a number of people Sick with a malignant fever & two lays dead. — “When the Lords judgements are abroad in the Earth my the inhabitants thereof learn wisdom”. -we are in his hands, & may our dependance be on him alone

Mrs. Margaret Helen Begbie Croly offered a poem on page 587 of The Literary Gazette, and Journal of the Belles Lettres in regard to her recent wedding with the Reverend George Croly, A.M.

The BrideWhen I gaze on these green fields, and smile at the sight,

And then on the vast spreading azure above,I feel, I acknowledge with grateful delight,

That each object gives pleasure with that whom we love.1. You understand, this sort of continuous scandal publicity must have been performing wonders for the “gate” at the box office for the virtuoso’s solo performances: “Oh, Niccolò, make my body sob like your violin!”


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When we wander with one to all others preferr’d,Oh, is it not sweet to attend to each call,

To watch every look, every thought, every word,And try to return, and anticipate all?

For well I remember the desolate day,When I wander’d alone and I thought myself free,

The hills and the vales were as brilliant as gay,But those hills and those vales had no sweetness for me!

Fair, fair was the prospect, and cloudless the sky,And clear and unruffled the face of the main,

But none whom I cherish’d and valued were by,And I gaz’d undelighted again, and again.

But now my heart glows at th’inspiring sight,My gaze and my thoughts are directed above:

And I feel and acknowledge with grateful delight,That each object gives pleasure with those whom we love!

THE FUTURE IS MOST READILY PREDICTED IN RETROSPECT

HELEN, THE BRIDE


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The Reverend George Croly, LL.D.’s SALATHIEL. A STORY OF THE PAST, THE PRESENT, AND THE FUTURE, also titled TARRY THOU TILL I COME, an elaboration upon the legend of the Wandering Jew.

WHAT I’M WRITING IS TRUE BUT NEVER MINDYOU CAN ALWAYS LIE TO YOURSELF

1828

SALATHIEL, ORIGINAL FORMSALATHIEL, AS OF 1901


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The Reverend George Croly’s LIFE AND TIMES OF HIS LATE MAJESTY GEORGE THE FOURTH: WITH ANECDOTES OF DISTINGUISHED PERSONS OF THE LAST FIFTY YEARS appeared as Issue #15 of HARPER’S FAMILY LIBRARY, published by J. & J. Harper.2 He received an LLD degree at Trinity College, Dublin.

1831

2. This volume would be in the personal library of Henry Thoreau.

LIFE OF KING GEORGE IV

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Lord Brougham, a relative of the Reverend George Croly and a Whig, helped him become Rector of St Stephen Walbrook, in the slums of London. This living had been vacant for a century. The Reverend would also have the living of St Benet Sherehog, and would retain both pulpits until his death.

1835



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Rector George Croly’s novel MARETON.

1846



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Upon pronouncing that she was ready to resume her travels, Ida Pfeiffer began to receive numerous invitations from Europeans in various locations, plus offers of transportation by publicity-seeking railroad and steamship firms. She would sail from London to Cape Town, and around the Cape of Good Hope to Singapore to Borneo, where she spent six months in the rain forest visiting among Dyak known to still practice ritual headhunting: “I shuddered, but I could not help asking myself whether, after all, we Europeans are not really just as bad or worse than these despised savages? Is not every page of our history filled with horrid deeds of treachery and murder?” She would comment that “I should like to have passed a longer time among the free Dyaks, as I found them, without exception, honest, good-natured, and modest in their behavior. I should be inclined to place them, in these respects, above any of the races I have ever known.” She then went on to Sumatra in the Dutch East Indies, where she visited Batak cannibals who had never before allowed a European into their territory. She then sailed via San Francisco to tour the Andes Mountains of South America.

When Margaret Helen Begbie Croly expired, and this is something I am entirely unable to explain, she was in Bangalore, India.

THE FUTURE CAN BE EASILY PREDICTED IN RETROSPECT

1851


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Rector George Croly’s most enduring hymn:Spirit of God, descend upon my heart; Wean it from earth; through all its pulses move; Stoop to my weakness, mighty as Thou art; And make me love Thee as I ought to love.

I ask no dream, no prophet ecstasies, No sudden rending of the veil of clay, No angel visitant, no opening skies; But take the dimness of my soul away.

Teach me to feel that Thou art always nigh; Teach me the struggles of the soul to bear. To check the rising doubt, the rebel sigh, Teach me the patience of unanswered prayer.

Hast Thou not bid me love Thee, God and King? All, all Thine own, soul, heart and strength and mind. I see Thy cross; there teach my heart to cling: O let me seek Thee, and O let me find!

Teach me to love Thee as Thine angels love, One holy passion filling all my frame; The kindling of the heaven descended Dove, My heart an altar, and Thy love the flame.

1854



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November 24, Sunday: George Croly died.

In Charleston, pursuant to a degree of the Chancery court, as advertised there was a great sale of land, negroes, corn, and other property, in which 91 likely negroes were to change hands:

Henry Thoreau wrote again to Augustus Sabin Chase of the Young Men’s Institute in Waterbury, Connecticut, in regard to his upcoming “AUTUMNAL TINTS” lecture:

Concord Nov. 24th1860

Mr A.S. Chase,Dear Sir,The subject of my lecture before your Lyceum, on Tuesday evening Dec. 11th, will be “Autumnal Tints.”

Yrs trulyHenry D. Thoreau

1860



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November 24. P.M.– To Easterbrooks’s.Under the two white oaks by the second wall southeast of my house, on the east side the wall, I am surprised tofind a great many sound acorns still, though every one is sprouted, – frequently more than a dozen on the shortsward within a square foot, each with its radicle two inches long penetrated into the earth. But many have hadtheir radicle broken or eaten off, and many have it now dead and withered. So far as my observation goes there,by far the greatest number of white oak acorns were destroyed by decaying (whether in consequence of frost orwet), both before and soon after falling. Not nearly so many have been carried off by squirrels and birds orconsumed by grubs, though the number of acorns of all kinds lying under the trees is now comparatively smallto what it was early in October.It is true these two trees are exceptions and I do not find sound ones nearly as numerous under others.Nevertheless, the sound white oak acorns are not so generally and entirely picked up as I supposed. However,there are a great many more shells or cups than acorns under the trees; even under these two trees, I think, thereare not more than a third as many of any kind –sound or hollow– as there were, and generally those that remainare a very small fraction of what there were. It will be worth the while to see how many of these sprouted acornsare left and are sound in the spring. It is remarkable that all sound white oak acorns (and many which are notnow sound) are sprouted, and that I have noticed no other kind sprouted, – though I have not seen the chestnutoak and little chinquapin at all. It remains to be seen how many of the above will be picked up by squirrels, etc.,or destroyed by frost and grubs in the winter.The first spitting of snow –a flurry or squall– from out a gray or slate-colored cloud that came up from the west.This consisted almost entirely of pellets an eighth of an inch or less in diameter. These drove along almosthorizontally, or curving upward like the outline of a breaker, before the strong and chilling wind. The plowedfields were for a short time whitened with them. The green moss about the bases of trees was very prettilyspotted white with them, and also the large beds of cladonia in the pastures. They come to contrast with the redcockspur lichens on the stumps, which you had not noticed before. Striking against the trunks of the trees onthe west side they fell and accumulated in a white line at the base. Though a slight touch, this was the first wintryscene of the season. The air was so filled with these snow pellets that we could not see a hill half a mile off foran hour. The hands seek the warmth of the pockets, and fingers are so benumbed that you cannot open yourjack-knife. The rabbits in the swamps enjoy it, as well as you. Methinks the winter gives them more liberty, likea night. I see where a boy has set a box trap and baited it with half an apple, and, a mile off, come across a snareset for a rabbit or partridge in a cow-path in a pitch pine wood near where the rabbits have nibbled the appleswhich strew the wet ground. How pitiable that the most that many see of a rabbit should be the snare that someboy has set for one!The bitter-sweet of a white oak acorn which you nibble in a bleak November walk over the tawny earth is moreto me than a slice of imported pineapple. We do not think much of table-fruits. They are especially for aldermenand epicures. They do not feed the imagination. That would starve on them. These wild fruits, whether eaten ornot, are a dessert for the imagination. The south may keep her pineapples, and we will be content with ourstrawberries.

“MAGISTERIAL HISTORY” IS FANTASIZING: HISTORY IS CHRONOLOGY


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COPYRIGHT NOTICE: In addition to the property of others,such as extensive quotations and reproductions ofimages, this “read-only” computer file contains a greatdeal of special work product of Austin Meredith,copyright 2014. Access to these interim materials willeventually be offered for a fee in order to recoup someof the costs of preparation. My hypercontext buttoninvention which, instead of creating a hypertext leapthrough hyperspace —resulting in navigation problems—allows for an utter alteration of the context withinwhich one is experiencing a specific content alreadybeing viewed, is claimed as proprietary to AustinMeredith — and therefore freely available for use byall. Limited permission to copy such files, or anymaterial from such files, must be obtained in advancein writing from the “Stack of the Artist of Kouroo”Project, 833 Berkeley St., Durham NC 27705. Pleasecontact the project at .

Prepared: September 10, 2014

“It’s all now you see. Yesterday won’t be over untiltomorrow and tomorrow began ten thousand years ago.”

– Remark by character “Garin Stevens”in William Faulkner’s INTRUDER IN THE DUST

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Bearing in mind that this is America, "where everything belongs," the primary intent of such a notice is to prevent some person or corporate entity from misappropriating the materials and sequestering them as property for censorship or for profit.


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ARRGH AUTOMATED RESEARCH REPORT

GENERATION HOTLINE

This stuff presumably looks to you as if it were generated by ahuman. Such is not the case. Instead, someone has requested thatwe pull it out of the hat of a pirate who has grown out of theshoulder of our pet parrot “Laura” (as above). What thesechronological lists are: they are research reports compiled byARRGH algorithms out of a database of modules which we term theKouroo Contexture (this is data mining). To respond to such arequest for information we merely push a button.



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Commonly, the first output of the algorithm has obviousdeficiencies and we need to go back into the modules stored inthe contexture and do a minor amount of tweaking, and then weneed to punch that button again and recompile the chronology —but there is nothing here that remotely resembles the ordinary“writerly” process you know and love. As the contents of thisoriginating contexture improve, and as the programming improves,and as funding becomes available (to date no funding whateverhas been needed in the creation of this facility, the entireoperation being run out of pocket change) we expect a diminishedneed to do such tweaking and recompiling, and we fully expectto achieve a simulation of a generous and untiring roboticresearch librarian. Onward and upward in this brave new world.

First come first serve. There is no charge.Place requests with . Arrgh.

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Rector George Croly178018041810181818191828183118351846185118541860

RECTOR GEORGE CROLY - Kouroo · 2014. 9. 10. · RECTOR GEORGE CROLY RECTOR GEORGE CROLY HDT WHAT?...

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