From what I have recounted in the foregoing chapter, I would not have it
imagined that the great Peter was a tyrannical potentate, ruling with a
rod of iron. On the contrary, where the dignity of office permitted, he
abounded in generosity and condescension. If he refused the brawling
multitude the right of misrule, he at least endeavored to rule them in
righteousness. To spread abundance in the land, he obliged the bakers to
give thirteen loaves to the dozen--a golden rule which remains a monument
of his beneficence. So far from indulging in unreasonable austerity, he
delighted to see the poor and the laboring man rejoice; and for this
purpose he was a great promoter of holidays. Under his reign there was a
great cracking of eggs at Paas or Easter; Whitsuntide or Pinxter also
flourished in all its bloom; and never were stockings better filled on the
eve of the blessed St. Nicholas.
New Year's Day, however, was his favorite festival, and was ushered in by
the ringing of bells and firing of guns. On that genial day the fountains
of hospitality were broken up, and the whole community was deluged with
cherry-brandy, true hollands, and mulled cider; every house was a temple
to the jolly god; and many a provident vagabond got drunk out of pure
economy, taking in liquor enough gratis to serve him half a year
afterwards.
The great assemblage, however, was at the governor's house, whither
repaired all the burghers of New Amsterdam with their wives and daughters,
pranked out in their best attire. On this occasion the good Peter was
devoutly observant of the pious Dutch rite of kissing the women-kind for
a happy new year; and it is traditional that Antony the trumpeter, who
acted as gentleman usher, took toll of all who were young and handsome, as
they passed through the ante-chamber. This venerable custom, thus happily
introduced, was followed with such zeal by high and low that on New Year's
Day, during the reign of Peter Stuyvesant, New Amsterdam was the most
thoroughly be-kissed community in all Christendom.
Another great measure of Peter Stuyvesant for public improvement was the
distribution of fiddles throughout the land. These were placed in the
hands of veteran negroes, who were despatched as missionaries to every
part of the province. This measure, it is said, was first suggested by
Antony the Trumpeter, and the effect was marvelous. Instead of those
"indignation meetings" set on foot in the time of William the Testy, where
men met together to rail at public abuses, groan over the evils of the
times, and make each other miserable, there were joyous gatherings of the
two sexes to dance and make merry. Now were instituted "quilting bees,"
and "husking bees," and other rural assemblages, where, under the
inspiring influence of the fiddle, toil was enlivened by gayety and
followed up by the dance. "Raising bees" also were frequent, where houses
sprang up at the wagging of the fiddle-stick, as the walls of Thebes
sprang up of yore to the sound of the lyre of Amphion.
Jolly autumn, which pours its treasures over hill and dale, was in those
days a season for the lifting of the heel as well as the heart; labor came
dancing in the train of abundance, and frolic prevailed throughout the
land. Happy days! when the yeomanry of the Nieuw Nederlands were merry
rather than wise; and when the notes of the fiddle, those harbingers of
good humor and good will, resounded at the close of the day from every
hamlet along the Hudson!
Nor was it in rural communities alone that Peter Stuyvesant introduced his
favorite engine of civilization. Under his rule the fiddle acquired that
potent sway in New Amsterdam which it has ever since retained. Weekly
assemblages were held, not in heated ball-rooms at midnight hours, but on
Saturday afternoons, by the golden light of the sun, on the green lawn of
the Battery; with Antony the Trumpeter for master of ceremonies. Here
would the good Peter take his seat under the spreading trees, among the
old burghers and their wives, and watch the mazes of the dance. Here would
he smoke his pipe, crack his joke, and forget the rugged toils of war, in
the sweet oblivious festivities of peace, giving a nod of approbation to
those of the young men who shuffled and kicked most vigorously; and now
and then a hearty smack, in all honesty of soul, to the buxom lass who
held out longest, and tired down every competitor--infallible proof of her
being the best dancer.
Once, it is true, the harmony of these meetings was in danger of
interruption. A young belle, just returned from a visit to Holland, who of
course led the fashions, made her appearance in not more than half-a-dozen
petticoats, and these of alarming shortness. A whisper and a flutter ran
through the assembly. The young men of course were lost in admiration, but
the old ladies were shocked in the extreme, especially those who had
marriageable daughters; the young ladies blushed and felt excessively for
the "poor thing," and even the governor himself appeared to be in some
kind of perturbation.
To complete the confusion of the good folk she undertook, in the course of
a jig, to describe some figures in algebra taught her by a dancing-master
at Rotterdam. Unfortunately, at the highest flourish of her feet, some
vagabond zephyr obtruded his services, and a display of the graces took
place, at which all the ladies present were thrown into great
consternation; several grave country members were not a little moved, and
the good Peter Stuyvesant himself was grievously scandalized.
The shortness of the female dresses, which had continued in fashion ever
since the days of William Kieft, had long offended his eye; and though
extremely averse to meddling with the petticoats of the ladies, yet he
immediately recommended that every one should be furnished with a flounce
to the bottom. He likewise ordered that the ladies, and indeed the
gentlemen, should use no other step in dancing than "shuffle and turn,"
and "double trouble;" and forbade, under pain of his high displeasure, any
young lady thenceforth to attempt what was termed "exhibiting the graces."
These were the only restrictions he ever imposed upon the sex, and these
were considered by them as tyrannical oppressions, and resisted with that
becoming spirit manifested by the gentle sex whenever their privileges are
invaded. In fact, Antony Van Corlear, who, as has been shown, was a
sagacious man, experienced in the ways of women, took a private occasion
to intimate to the governor that a conspiracy was forming among the young
vrouws of New Amsterdam; and that, if the matter were pushed any further,
there was danger of their leaving off petticoats altogether; whereupon the
good Peter shrugged his shoulders, dropped the subject, and ever after
suffered the women to wear their petticoats, and cut their capers as high
as they pleased, a privilege which they have jealously maintained in the
Manhattoes unto the present day.