Eli Whitney (December 8, 1765 – January 8, 1825) was an American inventor best known for inventing the cotton gin. This was one of the key inventions of the Industrial Revolution and shaped the economy of the Antebellum South. Whitney's invention made upland short cotton into a profitable crop, which strengthened the economic foundation of slavery in the United States. Despite the social and economic impact of his invention, Whitney lost many profits in legal battles over patent infringement for the cotton gin. Thereafter, he turned his attention into securing contracts with the government in the manufacture of muskets for the newly formed United States Army. He continued making arms and inventing until his death in 1825.
Whitney was born in Westborough, Massachusetts, on December 8, 1765, the eldest child of Eli Whitney Sr., a prosperous farmer, and his wife Elizabeth Fay, also of Westborough.
Although the younger Eli, born in 1765, could technically be called a "Junior", history has never known him as such. He was famous during his lifetime and afterward by the name "Eli Whitney". His son, born in 1820, also named Eli, was well known during his lifetime and afterward by the name "Eli Whitney, Jr."
Eli Whitney (1765–1825) was an American inventor and entrepreneur, best known for his cotton gin and his pursuit of interchangeability in firearms manufacture.
Eli Whitney may also refer to:
Gaelic:
A stór, a stór, a ghrá
A stór, a stór an dtiocfaidh tú?
A stór, a stór, a grhá
An dtiocfaidh tú nó an bhfanfaidh tú?
Bhí me lá breá samhraidh i mo sheasamh ar an mhargadh
'S is iomai fear a dúirt lion: "Monuar, gan tú sa bhaile agam".
Gheall mo ghrá domsa cinnte go dtiocfadh si
Ni raibh a culaith Déanta agus sin an rud a choinnigh i
Thart tóin an gharrai, a Mháire, bhfuil an fhidil leat?
Aicearra na bprátai go dtéimid' sair an fhidileoir
Mhí mise lán den tsaoil is bhi cion amuigh is istigh orm
Nach mór a dáthraigh an saol nuair nach bhfuil eion ag duine ar
bith orm?
English:
One fine summers day as I stood there in the market place
Many a fine young man remarked, “I’m sad you are not home with me.”
Chorus:
My darling, my darling, my love
My darling, my darling, will you come with me
My darling, my darling, my love will you come with me or settled be.
My true love promised kindly that she would surely come with me
Her wedding dress not ready, delayed her in joining me.
We have got water from the Eirne, and green grass from the heaven’s stems
Cows udders are near rending from the overflow of milk in them.
By the bottom of the garden, a Mary, is the fiddle there?
The shortcut by the praties, we’ll hasten to the fiddler.
At one time in my life I was dearly loved by everyone