But there is still one more mode left by which this country could have

been peopled, which I have reserved for the last, because I consider it

worth all the rest: it is—_by accident_! Speaking of the islands of

Solomon, New Guinea, and New Holland, the profound father Charlevoix

observes, “in fine, all these countries are peopled, and _it is

possible_ some have been so _by accident_. Now if it could have happened

in that manner, why might it not have been at the _same time_, and by

the _same means_ with _the other_ parts of the globe?” This ingenious

mode of deducing certain conclusions from possible premises is an

improvement in syllogistic skill, and proves the good father superior

even to Archimedes, for he can turn the world without anything to rest

his lever upon. It is only surpassed by the dexterity with which the

sturdy old Jesuit, in another place, cuts the gordian knot:—“Nothing,”

says he, “is more easy. The inhabitants of both hemispheres are

certainly the descendants of the same father. The common father of

mankind received an express order from Heaven to people the world, and

_accordingly it has been peopled_. To bring this about it was necessary

to overcome all difficulties in the way, _and they have also been

overcome_!” Pious logician! How does he put all the herd of laborious

theorists to the blush, by explaining, in five words, what it has cost

them volumes to prove they knew nothing about!

From all the authorities here quoted, and a variety of others which I

have consulted, but which are omitted through fear of fatiguing the

unlearned reader, I can only draw the following conclusions, which

luckily, however, are sufficient for my purpose. First, that this part

of the world has actually _been peopled_, (Q. E. D.) to support which we

have living proofs in the numerous tribes of Indians that inhabit it.

Secondly, that it has been peopled in five hundred different ways, as

proved by a cloud of authors who, from the positiveness of their

assertions, seem to have been eyewitnesses to the fact. Thirdly, that

the people of this country had a _variety of fathers_, which, as it may

not be thought much to their credit by the common run of readers, the

less we say on the subject the better. The question, therefore, I trust,

is forever at rest.

[Illustration]

=Chapter V.=

IN WHICH THE AUTHOR PUTS A MIGHTY QUESTION TO THE ROUT, BY THE

ASSISTANCE OF THE MAN IN THE MOON,—WHICH NOT ONLY DELIVERS THOUSANDS

OF PEOPLE FROM GREAT EMBARRASSMENT, BUT LIKEWISE CONCLUDES THIS

INTRODUCTORY BOOK.

The writer of a history may, in some respects, be likened unto an

adventurous knight, who, having undertaken a perilous enterprise by way

of establishing his fame, feels bound, in honor and chivalry, to turn

back for no difficulty nor hardship, and never to shrink or quail,

whatever enemy he may encounter. Under this impression, I resolutely

draw my pen, and fall to, with might and main, at those doughty

questions and subtle paradoxes, which, like fiery dragons and bloody

giants, beset the entrance to my history, and would fain repulse me from

the very threshold. And at this moment a gigantic question has started

up, which I must needs take by the beard and utterly subdue, before I

can advance another step in my historic undertaking; but I trust this

will be the last adversary I shall have to contend with, and that in the

next book I shall be enabled to conduct my readers in triumph into the

body of my work.

The question which has thus suddenly arisen is, What right had the first

discoverers of America to land and take possession of a country, without

first gaining the consent of its inhabitants, or yielding them an

adequate compensation for their territory?—a question which has

withstood many fierce assaults, and has given much distress of mind to

multitudes of kind-hearted folk. And indeed, until it be totally

vanquished, and put to rest, the worthy people of America can by no

means enjoy the soil they inhabit, with clear right and title, and

quiet, unsullied consciences.

The first source of right, by which property is acquired in a country,

is DISCOVERY. For as all mankind have an equal right to anything which

has never before been appropriated, so any nation that discovers an

uninhabited country, and takes possession thereof, is considered as

enjoying full property, and absolute, unquestionable empire therein.[19]

This proposition being admitted, it follows clearly, that the Europeans

who first visited America were the real discoverers of the same; nothing

being necessary to the establishment of this fact, but simply to prove

that it was totally uninhabited by men. This would at first appear to be

a point of some difficulty, for it is well known that this quarter of

the world abounded with certain animals, that walked erect on two feet,

had something of a human countenance, uttering certain unintelligible

sounds, very much like language; in short, had a marvellous resemblance

to human beings. But the zealous and enlightened fathers, who

accompanied the discoverers, for the purpose of promoting the kingdom of

heaven by establishing fat monasteries and bishoprics on earth, soon

cleared up this point, greatly to the satisfaction of his holiness the

pope, and of all Christian voyagers and discoverers.

They plainly proved, and as no Indian writers arose on the other side,

the fact was considered as fully admitted and established, that the

two-legged race of animals before mentioned were mere cannibals,

detestable monsters, and many of them giants,—which last description of

vagrants have, since the time of Gog, Magog, and Goliath, been

considered as outlaws, and have received no quarter in either history,

chivalry, or song. Indeed, even the philosophic Bacon declared the

Americans to be people proscribed by the laws of nature, inasmuch as

they had a barbarous custom of sacrificing men, and feeding upon man’s

flesh.

Nor are these all the proofs of their utter barbarism. Among many other

writers of discernment, Ulloa tells us “their imbecility is so visible,

that one can hardly form an idea of them different from what one has of

the brutes. Nothing disturbs the tranquillity of their souls, equally

insensible to disasters and to prosperity. Though half naked, they are

as contented as a monarch in his most splendid array. Fear makes no

impression on them, and respect as little.” All this is furthermore

supported by the authority of M. Bouguer. “It is not easy,” says he, “to

describe the degree of their indifference for wealth and all its

advantages. One does not well know what motives to propose to them when

one would persuade them to any service. It is vain to offer them money;

they answer they are not hungry.” And Vanegas confirms the whole,

assuring us that “ambition they have none, and are more desirous of

being thought strong than valiant. The objects of ambition with

us—honor, fame, reputation, riches, posts, and distinctions—are unknown

among them. So that this powerful spring of action, the cause of so much

_seeming_ good and _real_ evil in the world, has no power over them. In

a word, these unhappy mortals may be compared to children in whom the

development of reason is not completed.”

[Illustration: “IT IS VAIN TO OFFER THEM MONEY; THEY SAY THEY ARE NOT

HUNGRY.”]

Now all these peculiarities, although in the most unenlightened states

of Greece they would have entitled their possessors to immortal honor,

as having reduced to practice those rigid and abstemious maxims, the

mere talking about which acquired certain old Greeks the reputation of

sages and philosophers,—yet, were they clearly proved in the present

instance to betoken a most abject and brutified nature, totally beneath

the human character. But the benevolent fathers, who had undertaken to

turn these unhappy savages into dumb beasts, by dint of argument,

advanced still stronger proofs; for, as certain divines of the sixteenth

century, and among the rest Lullus, affirm,—the Americans go naked, and

have no beards! “They have nothing,” says Lullus, “of the reasonable

animal, except the mask.” And even that mask was allowed to avail them

but little, for it was soon found that they were of a hideous copper

complexion; and being of a copper complexion, it was all the same as if

they were negroes: and negroes are black,—“and black,” said the pious

fathers, devoutly crossing themselves, “is the color of the Devil!”

Therefore, so far from being able to own property, they had no right

even to personal freedom; for liberty is too radiant a deity to inhabit

such gloomy temples. All which circumstances plainly convinced the

righteous followers of Cortes and Pizarro, that these miscreants had no

title to the soil that they infested,—that they were a perverse,

illiterate, dumb, beardless, black-seed,—mere wild beasts of the

forests, and like them should either be subdued or exterminated.

From the foregoing arguments, therefore, and a variety of others equally

conclusive, which I forbear to enumerate, it is clearly evident that

this fair quarter of the globe, when first visited by Europeans, was a

howling wilderness, inhabited by nothing but wild beasts; and that the

transatlantic visitors acquired an incontrovertible property therein by

the _right of discovery_.

This right being fully established, we now come to the next, which is

the right acquired by _cultivation_. “The cultivation of the soil,” we

are told, “is an obligation imposed by nature on mankind. The whole

world is appointed for the nourishment of its inhabitants; but it would

be incapable of doing it, was it uncultivated. Every nation is then

obliged by the law of nature to cultivate the ground that has fallen to

its share. Those people, like the ancient Germans and modern Tartars,

who, having fertile countries, disdain to cultivate the earth, and

choose to live by rapine, are wanting to themselves, and _deserve to be

exterminated as savage and pernicious beasts_.”[20]

Now it is notorious that the savages knew nothing of agriculture, when

first discovered by the Europeans, but lived a most vagabond,

disorderly, unrighteous life,—rambling from place to place, and

prodigally rioting upon the spontaneous luxuries of nature, without

tasking her generosity to yield them anything more; whereas it has been

most unquestionably shown, that Heaven intended the earth should be

ploughed and sown, and manured, and laid out into cities, and towns, and

farms, and country-seats, and pleasure-grounds, and public gardens; all

which the Indians knew nothing about: therefore, they did not improve

the talents Providence had bestowed on them: therefore, they were

careless stewards: therefore, they had no right to the soil: therefore,

they deserved to be exterminated.

It is true, the savages might plead that they drew all the benefits from

the land which their simple wants required,—they found plenty of game to

hunt, which, together with the roots and uncultivated fruits of the

earth, furnished a sufficient variety for their frugal repasts,—and

that, as Heaven merely designed the earth to form the abode, and satisfy

the wants of man, so long as those purposes were answered, the will of

Heaven was accomplished. But this only proves how undeserving they were

of the blessings around them: they were so much the more savages, for

not having more wants; for knowledge is in some degree an increase of

desires; and it is this superiority both in the number and magnitude of

his desires, that distinguishes the man from the beast. Therefore the

Indians, in not having more wants, were very unreasonable animals; and

it was but just that they should make way for the Europeans, who had a

thousand wants to their one, and, therefore, would turn the earth to

more account, and by cultivating it, more truly fulfil the will of

Heaven. Besides—Grotius, and Lauterbach, and Puffendorf, and Titius, and

many wise men beside, who have considered the matter properly, have

determined that the property of a country cannot be acquired by hunting,

cutting wood, or drawing water in it—nothing but precise demarcation of

limits, and the intention of cultivation, can establish the possession.

Now, as the savages (probably from never having read the authors above

quoted) had never complied with any of these necessary forms, it plainly

follows that they had no right to the soil, but that it was completely

at the disposal of the first comers, who had more knowledge, more wants,

and more elegant, that is to say artificial, desires than themselves.

In entering upon a newly discovered, uncultivated country, therefore,

the newcomers were but taking possession of what, according to the

aforesaid doctrine, was their own property;—therefore, in opposing them,

the savages were invading their just rights, infringing the immutable

laws of nature, and counteracting the will of heaven: therefore, they

were guilty of impiety, burglary, and trespass on the case: therefore,

they were hardened offenders against God and man: therefore, they ought

to be exterminated.

But a more irresistible right than either that I have mentioned, and one

which will be the most readily admitted by my reader, provided he be

blessed with bowels of charity and philanthropy, is the right acquired

by civilization. All the world knows the lamentable state in which these

poor savages were found. Not only deficient in the comforts of life, but

what is still worse, most piteously and unfortunately blind to the

miseries of their situation. But no sooner did the benevolent

inhabitants of Europe behold their sad condition, than they immediately

went to work to ameliorate and improve it. They introduced among them

rum, gin, brandy, and the other comforts of life,—and it is astonishing

to read how soon the poor savages learned to estimate those blessings;

they likewise made known to them a thousand remedies, by which the most

inveterate diseases are alleviated and healed; and that they might

comprehend the benefits and enjoy the comforts of these medicines, they

previously introduced among them the diseases which they were calculated

to cure. By these and a variety of other methods was the condition of

these poor savages wonderfully improved; they acquired a thousand wants,

of which they had before been ignorant; and as he has most sources of

happiness who has most wants to be gratified, they were doubtlessly

rendered a much happier race of beings.

But the most important branch of civilization, and which has most

strenuously been extolled by the zealous and pious fathers of the Romish

Church, is the introduction of the Christian faith. It was truly a sight

that might well inspire horror, to behold these savages tumbling among

the dark mountains of paganism, and guilty of the most horrible

ignorance of religion. It is true, they neither stole nor defrauded;

they were sober, frugal, continent, and faithful to their word; but

though they acted right habitually, it was all in vain, unless they

acted so from precept. The new comers, therefore, used every method to

induce them to embrace and practise the true religion,—except indeed

that of setting them the example.

[Illustration: “THEY INTRODUCED AMONG THEM RUM, GIN, AND BRANDY.”]

But notwithstanding all these complicated labors for their good, such

was the unparalleled obstinacy of these stubborn wretches, that they

ungratefully refused to acknowledge the strangers as their benefactors,

and persisted in disbelieving the doctrines they endeavored to

inculcate; most insolently alleging, that, from their conduct, the

advocates of Christianity did not seem to believe in it themselves. Was

not this too much for human patience?—would not one suppose that the

benign visitants from Europe, provoked at their incredulity, and

discouraged by their stiff-necked obstinacy, would forever have

abandoned their shores, and consigned them to their original ignorance

and misery? But no: so zealous were they to effect the temporal comfort

and eternal salvation of these pagan infidels, that they even proceeded

from the milder means of persuasion to the more painful and troublesome

one of persecution,—let loose among them whole troops of fiery monks and

furious bloodhounds,—purified them by fire and sword, by stake and

fagot; in consequence of which indefatigable measures the cause of

Christian love and charity was so rapidly advanced, that in a few years

not one fifth of the unbelievers existed in South America that were

found there at the time of its discovery.

What stronger right need the European settlers advance to the country

than this? Have not whole nations of uninformed savages been made

acquainted with a thousand imperious wants and indispensable comforts,

of which they were before wholly ignorant? Have they not been literally

hunted and smoked out of the dens and lurking-places of ignorance and

infidelity, and absolutely scourged into the right path? Have not the

temporal things, the vain baubles and filthy lucre of this world, which

were apt to engage their worldly and selfish thoughts, been benevolently

taken from them; and have they not, instead thereof, been taught to set

their affections on things above? And, finally, to use the words of a

reverend Spanish father, in a letter to his superior in Spain, “Can any

one have the presumption to say that these savage Pagans have yielded

anything more than an inconsiderable recompense to their benefactors, in

surrendering to them a little pitiful tract of this dirty sublunary

planet in exchange for a glorious inheritance in the kingdom of heaven?”

Here, then, are three complete and undeniable sources of right

established, any one of which was more than ample to establish a

property in the newly-discovered regions of America. Now, so it has

happened in certain parts of this delightful quarter of the globe, that

the right of discovery has been so strenuously asserted, the influence

of cultivation so industriously extended, and the progress of salvation

and civilization so zealously prosecuted, that, what with their

attendant wars, persecutions, oppressions, diseases, and other partial

evils that often hang on the skirts of great benefits, the savage

aborigines have, somehow or another, been utterly annihilated;—and this

all at once brings me to a fourth right, which is worth all the others

put together. For the original claimants to the soil being all dead and

buried, and no one remaining to inherit or dispute the soil, the

Spaniards, as the next immediate occupants, entered upon the possession

as clearly as the hangman succeeds to the clothes of the malefactor; and

as they have Blackstone,[21] and all the learned expounders of the law

on their side, they may set all actions of ejectment at defiance;—and

this last right may be entitled the RIGHT BY EXTERMINATION, OR, or, in

other words, the RIGHT BY GUN-POWDER.

But lest any scruples of conscience should remain on this head, and to

settle the question of right forever, his holiness Pope Alexander VI.

issued a bull, by which he generously granted the newly-discovered

quarter of the globe to the Spaniards and Portuguese; who, thus having

law and gospel on their side, and being inflamed with great spiritual

zeal, showed the Pagan savages neither favor nor affection, but

prosecuted the work of discovery, colonization, civilization, and

extermination with ten times more fury than ever.

[Illustration: THE SPANISH HAD THE RIGHT BY GUN-POWDER.]

Thus were the European worthies who first discovered America clearly

entitled to the soil; and not only entitled to the soil, but likewise to

the eternal thanks of these infidel savages, for having come so far,

endured so many perils by sea and land, and taken such unwearied pains,

for no other purpose but to improve their forlorn, uncivilized and

heathenish condition,—for having made them acquainted with the comforts

of life,—for having introduced among them the light of religion,—and,

finally, for having hurried them out of the world, to enjoy its reward!

But as argument is never so well understood by us selfish mortals as

when it comes home to ourselves, and as I am particularly anxious that

this question should be put to rest forever, I will suppose a parallel

case, by way of arousing the candid attention of my readers.

Let us suppose, then, that the inhabitants of the moon, by astonishing

advancement in science, and by profound insight into that lunar

philosophy, the mere flickerings of which have of late years dazzled the

feeble optics, and addled the shallow brains of the good people of our

globe,—let us suppose, I say, that the inhabitants of the moon, by these

means, had arrived at such a command of their _energies_, such an

enviable state of _perfectibility_, as to control the elements, and

navigate the boundless regions of space. Let us suppose a roving crew of

these soaring philosophers, in the course of an aërial voyage of

discovery among the stars, should chance to alight upon this outlandish

planet.

[Illustration: THE HEADLESS MEN OF THE MOON VISIT US.]

And here I beg my readers will not have the uncharitableness to smile,

as is too frequently the fault of volatile readers, when perusing the

grave speculations of philosophers. I am far from indulging in any

sportive vein at present; nor is the supposition I have been making so

wild as many may deem it. It has long been a very serious and anxious

question with me, and many a time and oft, in the course of my

overwhelming cares and contrivances for the welfare and protection of

this my native planet, have I lain awake whole nights debating in my

mind, whether it were most probable we should first discover and

civilize the moon, or the moon discover and civilize our globe. Neither

would the prodigy of sailing in the air and cruising among the stars be

a whit more astonishing and incomprehensible to us than was the European

mystery of navigating floating castles, through the world of waters, to

the simple natives. We have already discovered the art of coasting along

the aërial shores of our planet, by means of balloons, as the savages

had of venturing along their sea-coasts in canoes; and the disparity

between the former and the aërial vehicles of the philosophers from the

moon might not be greater than that between the bark canoes of the

savages and the mighty ships of their discoverers. I might here pursue

an endless chain of similar speculations; but as they would be

unimportant to my subject, I abandon them to my reader, particularly if

he be a philosopher, as matters well worthy of his attentive

consideration.

To return, then, to my supposition;—let us suppose that the aërial

visitants I have mentioned possessed of vastly superior knowledge to

ourselves; that is to say, possessed of superior knowledge in the art of

extermination,—riding on hyppogriffs,—defended with impenetrable

armor,—armed with concentrated sunbeams, and provided with vast engines,

to hurl enormous moon-stones: in short, let us suppose them, if our

vanity will permit the supposition, as superior to us in knowledge, and

consequently in power, as the Europeans were to the Indians, when they

first discovered them. All this is very possible; it is only our

self-sufficiency that makes us think otherwise; and I warrant the poor

savages, before they had any knowledge of the white men, armed in all

the terrors of glittering steel and tremendous gun-powder, were as

perfectly convinced that they themselves were the wisest, the most

virtuous, powerful, and perfect of created beings, as are, at this

present moment, the lordly inhabitants of old England, the volatile

populace of France, or even the self-satisfied citizens of this most

enlightened republic.

Let us suppose, moreover, that the aërial voyagers, finding this planet

to be nothing but a howling wilderness, inhabited by us poor savages and

wild beasts, shall take formal possession of it, in the name of his most

gracious and philosophic excellency, the man in the moon. Finding,

however, that their numbers are incompetent to hold it in complete

subjection, on account of the ferocious barbarity of its inhabitants,

they shall take our worthy President, the King of England, the Emperor

of Hayti, the mighty Bonaparte, and the great King of Bantam, and

returning to their native planet, shall carry them to court, as were the

Indian chiefs led about as spectacles in the courts of Europe.

Then making such obeisance as the etiquette of the court requires, they

shall address the puissant man in the moon, in, as near as I can

conjecture, the following terms:—

“Most serene and mighty Potentate, whose dominions extend as far as eye

can reach, who rideth on the Great Bear, useth the sun as a

looking-glass, and maintaineth unrivalled control over tides, madmen,

and sea-crabs. We, thy liege subjects, have just returned from a voyage

of discovery, in the course of which we have landed and taken possession

of that obscure little dirty planet, which thou beholdest rolling at a

distance. The five uncouth monsters, which we have brought into this

august presence, were once very important chiefs among their

fellow-savages, who are a race of beings totally destitute of the common

attributes of humanity; and differing in everything from the inhabitants

of the moon, inasmuch as they carry their heads upon their shoulders,

instead of under their arms,—have two eyes instead of one,—are utterly

destitute of tails, and of a variety of unseemly complexions,

particularly of horrible whiteness, instead of pea-green.

[Illustration: “WHO RIDETH ON THE GREAT BEAR AND USETH THE SUN AS A

LOOKING-GLASS.”]

“We have moreover found these miserable savages sunk into a state of the

utmost ignorance and depravity, every man shamelessly living with his

own wife, and rearing his own children, instead of indulging in that

community of wives enjoined by the law of nature, as expounded by the

philosophers of the moon. In a word, they have scarcely a gleam of true

philosophy among them, but are, in fact, utter heretics, ignoramuses,

and barbarians. Taking compassion, therefore, on the sad condition of

these sublunary wretches, we have endeavored, while we remained on their

planet, to introduce among them the light of reason, and the comforts of

the moon. We have treated them to mouthfuls of moonshine, and draughts

of nitrous oxide, which they swallowed with incredible voracity,

particularly the females; and we have likewise endeavored to instil into

them the precepts of lunar philosophy. We have insisted upon their

renouncing the contemptible shackles of religion and common sense, and

adoring the profound, omnipotent, and all-perfect energy, and the

ecstatic, immutable, immovable perfection. But such was the unparalleled

obstinacy of these wretched savages, that they persisted in cleaving to

their wives, and adhering to their religion, and absolutely set at

naught the sublime doctrines of the moon,—nay, among other abominable

heresies, they even went so far as blasphemously to declare, that this

ineffable planet was made of nothing more nor less than green cheese!”

At these words, the great man in the moon (being a very profound

philosopher) shall fall into a terrible passion, and possessing equal

authority over things that do not belong to him, as did whilom his

holiness the Pope, shall forthwith issue a formidable bull, specifying,

“That, whereas a certain crew of Lunatics have lately discovered, and

taken possession of a newly-discovered planet called _the earth_; and

that, whereas it is inhabited by none but a race of two-legged animals

that carry their heads on their shoulders instead of under their arms,

cannot talk the Lunatic language, have two eyes instead of one, are

destitute of tails, and of a horrible whiteness, instead of

pea-green—therefore, and for a variety of other excellent reasons, they

are considered incapable of possessing any property in the planet they

infest, and the right and title to it are confirmed to its original

discoverers. And furthermore, the colonists who are now about to depart

to the aforesaid planet are authorized and commanded to use every means

to convert these infidel savages from the darkness of Christianity, and

make them thorough and absolute Lunatics.”

In consequence of this benevolent bull, our philosophic benefactors go

to work with hearty zeal. They seize upon our fertile territories,

scourge us from our rightful possessions, relieve us from our wives; and

when we are unreasonable enough to complain, they will turn upon us and

say: Miserable barbarians! ungrateful wretches! have we not come

thousands of miles to improve your worthless planet; have we not fed you

with moonshine; have we not intoxicated you with nitrous oxide; does not

our moon give you light every night; and have you the baseness to murmur

when we claim a pitiful return for all these benefits? But finding that

we not only persist in absolute contempt of their reasoning and

disbelief in their philosophy, but even go so far as daringly to defend

our property, their patience shall be exhausted, and they shall resort

to their superior powers of argument: hunt us with hyppogriffs, transfix

us with concentrated sunbeams, demolish our cities with moon-stones;

until having, by main force, converted us to the true faith, they shall

graciously permit us to exist in the torrid deserts of Arabia, or the

frozen regions of Lapland, there to enjoy the blessings of civilization

and the charms of lunar philosophy, in much the same manner as the

reformed and enlightened savages of this country are kindly suffered to

inhabit the inhospitable forests of the north, or the impenetrable

wildernesses of South America.

Thus, I hope, I have clearly proved, and strikingly illustrated, the

right of the early colonists to the possession of this country; and thus

is this gigantic question completely vanquished: so, having manfully

surmounted all obstacles, and subdued all opposition, what remains but

that I should forthwith conduct my readers into the city which we have

been so long in a manner besieging? But hold; before I proceed another

step, I must pause to take breath, and recover from the excessive

fatigue I have undergone, in preparing to begin this most accurate of

histories. And in this I do but imitate the example of a renowned Dutch

tumbler of antiquity, who took a start of three miles for the purpose of

jumping over a hill, but having run himself out of breath by the time he

reached the foot, sat himself quietly down for a few moments to blow,

and then walked over it at his leisure.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

=Book II.=

TREATING OF THE FIRST SETTLEMENT OF THE PROVINCE OF NIEUW-NEDERLANDTS.

[Illustration]

=Chapter I.=

IN WHICH ARE CONTAINED DIVERS REASONS WHY A MAN SHOULD NOT WRITE IN A

HURRY; ALSO, OF MASTER HENDRICK HUDSON, HIS DISCOVERY OF A STRANGE

COUNTRY,—AND HOW HE WAS MAGNIFICENTLY REWARDED BY THE MUNIFICENCE OF

THEIR HIGH MIGHTINESSES.

My great-grandfather, by the mother’s side, Hermanus Van Clattercop,

when employed to build the large stone church at Rotterdam, which stands

about three hundred yards to your left after you turn off from the

Boomkeys, and which is so conveniently constructed, that all the zealous

Christians of Rotterdam prefer sleeping through a sermon there to any

other church in the city,—my great-grandfather, I say, when employed to

build that famous church, did in the first place send to Delft for a box

of long pipes; then having purchased a new spitting-box and a

hundred-weight of the best Virginia, he sat himself down, and did

nothing for the space of three months but smoke most laboriously. Then

did he spend full three months more in trudging on foot, and voyaging in

trekschuit, from Rotterdam to Amsterdam—to Delft—to Haerlem—to Leyden—to

the Hague, knocking his head and breaking his pipe against every church

in his road. Then did he advance gradually nearer and nearer to

Rotterdam, until he came in full sight of the identical spot whereon the

church was to be built. Then did he spend three months longer in walking

round it and round it, contemplating it, first from one point of view,

and then from another,—now would he be paddled by it on the canal,—now

would he peep at it through a telescope from the other side of the

Meuse, and now would he take a bird’s-eye glance at it from the top of

one of those gigantic wind-mills which protect the gates of the city.

The good folks of the place were on the tiptoe of expectation and

impatience;—notwithstanding all the turmoil of my great-grandfather, not

a symptom of the church was yet to be seen; they even began to fear it

would never be brought into the world, but that its great projector

would lie down and die in labor of the mighty plan he had conceived. At

length, having occupied twelve good months in puffing and paddling, and

talking and walking,—having travelled over all Holland, and even taken a

peep into France and Germany,—having smoked five hundred and ninety-nine

pipes, and three hundred-weight of the best Virginia tobacco,—my

great-grandfather gathered together all that knowing and industrious

class of citizens who prefer attending to anybody’s business sooner than

their own, and having pulled off his coat and five pair of breeches, he

advanced sturdily up and laid the corner-stone of the church, in

presence of the whole multitude—just at the commencement of the

thirteenth month.

[Illustration: MY GREAT-GRANDFATHER TAKES A BIRD’S-EYE VIEW FROM THE TOP

OF A WIND-MILL.]

In a similar manner, and with the example of my worthy ancestor full

before my eyes, have I proceeded in writing this most authentic history.

The honest Rotterdammers no doubt thought my great-grandfather was doing

nothing at all to the purpose, while he was making such a world of

prefatory bustle about the building of his church—and many of the

ingenious inhabitants of this fair city will unquestionably suppose that

all the preliminary chapters, with the discovery, population, and final

settlement of America, were totally irrelevant and superfluous,—and that

the main business, the history of New York, is not a jot more advanced

than if I had never taken up my pen. Never were wise people more

mistaken in their conjectures: in consequence of going to work slowly

and deliberately, the church came out of my grandfather’s hands one of

the most sumptuous, goodly, and glorious edifices in the known

world,—excepting that, like our magnificent Capitol at Washington, it

was begun on so grand a scale that the good folks could not afford to

finish more than the wing of it. So, likewise, I trust, if ever I am

able to finish this work on the plan I have commenced (of which, in

simple truth, I sometimes have my doubts) it will be found that I have

pursued the latest rules of my art, as exemplified in the writings of

all the great American historians, and wrought a very large history out

of a small subject,—which, nowadays, is considered one of the great

triumphs of historic skill. To proceed, then, with the thread of my

story.

In the ever-memorable year of our Lord 1609, on a Saturday morning, the

five-and-twentieth day of March, old style, did that “worthy and

irrecoverable discoverer (as he has justly been called), Master Henry

Hudson,” set sail from Holland in a stout vessel called the _Half-Moon_,

being employed by the Dutch East India Company, to seek a north-west

passage to China.

Henry (or, as the Dutch historians call him, Hendrick) Hudson was a

seafaring man of renown, who had learned to smoke tobacco under Sir

Walter Raleigh, and is said to have been the first to introduce it into

Holland, which gained him much popularity in that country, and caused

him to find great favor in the eyes of their High Mightinesses, the

Lords States-General, and also of the honorable West India Company. He

was a short, square, brawny old gentleman, with a double chin, a mastiff

mouth, and a broad copper nose, which was supposed in those days to have

acquired its fiery hue from the constant neighborhood of his

tobacco-pipe.

He wore a true Andrea Ferrara, tucked in a leathern belt, and a

commodore’s cocked hat on one side of his head. He was remarkable for

always jerking up his breeches when he gave out his orders, and his

voice sounded not unlike the prattling of a tin trumpet,—owing to the

number of hard northwesters which he had swallowed in the course of his

seafaring.

Such was Hendrick Hudson, of whom we have heard so much, and know so

little; and I have been thus particular in his description for the

benefit of modern painters and statuaries, that they may represent him

as he was,—and not, according to their common custom with modern heroes,

make him look like Cæsar, or Marcus Aurelius, or the Apollo of

Belvidere.

As chief mate and favorite companion, the commodore chose master Robert

Juet, of Limehouse, in England. By some his name has been spelled

_Chewit_, and ascribed to the circumstances of his having been the first

man that ever chewed tobacco; but this I believe to be a mere flippancy;

more especially as certain of his progeny are living at this day, who

write their names Juet. He was an old comrade and early schoolmate of

the great Hudson, with whom he had often played truant and sailed chip

boats in a neighboring pond, when they were little boys: from whence it

is said that the commodore first derived his bias towards a seafaring

life. Certain it is that the old people about Limehouse declared Robert

Juet to be an unlucky urchin, prone to mischief, that would one day or

other come to the gallows.

[Illustration: HENDRICK HUDSON.]

He grew up, as boys of that kind often grow up, a rambling, heedless

varlet, tossed about in all quarters of the world,—meeting with more

perils and wonders than did Sinbad the Sailor, without growing a whit

more wise, prudent, or ill-natured. Under every misfortune, he comforted

himself with a quid of tobacco, and the truly philosophic maxim, that

“it will be all the same thing a hundred years hence.” He was skilled in

the art of carving anchors and true lover’s knots on the bulk-heads and

quarter-railings, and was considered a great wit on board ship, in

consequence of his playing pranks on everybody around, and now and then

even making a wry face at old Hendrick, when his back was turned.

To this universal genius are we indebted for many particulars concerning

this voyage; of which he wrote a history, at the request of the

commodore, who had an unconquerable aversion to writing himself, from

having received so many floggings about it when at school. To supply the

deficiencies of Master Juet’s journal, which is written with true

log-book brevity, I have availed myself of divers family traditions,

handed down from my great-great-grandfather, who accompanied the

expedition in the capacity of cabin-boy.

From all that I can learn, few incidents worthy of remark happened on

the voyage; and it mortifies me exceedingly that I have to admit so

noted an expedition into my work, without making any more of it.

Suffice it to say, the voyage was prosperous and tranquil; the crew,

being a patient people, much given to slumber and vacuity, and but

little troubled with the disease of thinking,—a malady of the mind,

which is the sure breeder of discontent. Hudson had laid in abundance of

gin and sourkrout, and every man was allowed to sleep quietly at his

post unless the wind blew. True it is, some slight disaffection was

shown on two or three occasions, at certain unreasonable conduct of

Commodore Hudson. Thus, for instance, he forbore to shorten sail when

the wind was light, and the weather serene, which was considered among

the most experienced Dutch seamen as certain _weather-breeders_, or

prognostics that the weather would change for the worse. He acted,

moreover, in direct contradiction to that ancient and sage rule of the

Dutch navigators, who always took in sail at night, put the helm a-port,

and turned in,—by which precaution they had a good night’s rest, were

sure of knowing where they were the next morning, and stood but little

chance of running down a continent in the dark. He likewise prohibited

the seamen from wearing more than five jackets and six pair of breeches,

under pretence of rendering them more alert; and no man was permitted to

go aloft and hand in sails with a pipe in his mouth, as is the

invariable Dutch custom at the present day. All these grievances, though

they might ruffle for a moment the constitutional tranquillity of the

honest Dutch tars, made but transient impression;—they ate hugely, drank

profusely, and slept immeasurably; and being under the especial guidance

of Providence, the ship was safely conducted to the coast of America;

where, after sundry unimportant touchings and standings off and on, she

at length, on the fourth day of September, entered that majestic bay

which at this day expands its ample bosom before the city of New York,

and which had never before been visited by any European.[22]

[Illustration: “EVERY MAN WAS ALLOWED TO SLEEP AT HIS POST UNLESS THE

WIND BLEW.”]

It has been traditionary in our family, that when the great navigator

was first blessed with a view of this enchanting island, he was

observed, for the first and only time in his life, to exhibit strong

symptoms of astonishment and admiration. He is said to have turned to

Master Juet, and uttered these remarkable words, while he pointed

towards this paradise of the new world,—“See! there!”—and thereupon, as

was always his way when he was uncommonly pleased, he did puff out such

clouds of dense tobacco-smoke, that in one minute the vessel was out of

sight of land, and Master Juet was fain to wait until the winds

dispersed this impenetrable fog.

It was indeed,—as my great-grandfather used to say,—though in truth I

never heard him, for he died, as might be expected, before I was

born,—“It was indeed a spot on which the eye might have revelled

forever, in ever new and never-ending beauties.” The island of Mannhata

spread wide before them, like some sweet vision of fancy, or some fair

creation of industrious magic. Its hills of smiling green swelled gently

one above another, crowned with lofty trees of luxuriant growth; some

pointing their tapering foliage towards the clouds, which were

gloriously transparent; and others loaded with a verdant burden of

clambering vines, bowing their branches to the earth, that was covered

with flowers. On the gentle declivities of the hills were scattered in

gay profusion, the dog-wood, the sumach, and the wild brier, whose

scarlet berries and white blossoms glowed brightly among the deep green

of the surrounding foliage; and here and there a curling column of

smoke, rising from the little glens that opened along the shore, seemed

to promise the weary voyagers a welcome at the hands of their

fellow-creatures. As they stood gazing with entranced attention on the

scene before them, a redman crowned with feathers issued from one of

these glens, and after contemplating in wonder the gallant ship, as she

sat like a stately swan swimming on a silver lake, sounded the

war-whoop, and bounded into the woods like a wild deer, to the utter

astonishment of the phlegmatic Dutchmen, who had never heard such a

noise, or witnessed such a caper in their whole lives.

Of the transactions of our adventurers with the savages, and how the

latter smoked copper pipes, and ate dried currants; how they brought

great store of tobacco and oysters; how they shot one of the ship’s

crew, and how he was buried, I shall say nothing; being that I consider

them unimportant to my history. After tarrying a few days in the bay, in

order to refresh themselves after their seafaring, our voyagers weighed

anchor, to explore a mighty river which emptied into the bay. This

river, it is said, was known among the savages by the name of the

_Shatemuck_; though we are assured in an excellent little history

published in 1674, by John Josselyn, Gent., that it was called the

_Mohegan_[23] and Master Richard Blome, who wrote some time afterwards,

asserts the same,—so that I very much incline in favor of the opinion of

these two honest gentlemen. Be this as it may, up this river did the

adventurous Hendrick proceed, little doubting but it would turn out to

be the much looked-for passage to China!

[Illustration: “A RED MAN CROWNED WITH FEATHERS ISSUED FROM ONE OF THESE

GLENS.”]

The journal goes on to make mention of divers interviews between the

crew and the natives, in the voyage up the river; but as they would be

impertinent to my history, I shall pass over them in silence, except the

following dry joke, played off by the old commodore and his

school-fellow, Robert Juet, which does such vast credit to their

experimental philosophy, that I cannot refrain from inserting it. “Our

master and his mate determined to try some of the chiefe men of the

countrey, whether they had any treacherie in them. So they tooke them

downe into the cabin, and gave them so much wine and aqua vitæ, that

they were all merrie; and one of them had his wife with him, which sate

so modestly, as any of our countrey women would do in a strange place.

In the end, one of them was drunke, which had been aborde of our ship

all the time that we had been there, and that was strange to them, for

they could not tell how to take it.”[24]

Having satisfied himself by this ingenious experiment that the natives

were an honest, social race of jolly roysters, who had no objection to a

drinking-bout and were very merry in their cups, the old commodore

chuckled hugely to himself, and thrusting a double quid of tobacco in

his cheek, directed Master Juet to have it carefully recorded, for the

satisfaction of all the natural philosophers of the university of

Leyden,—which done, he proceeded on his voyage, with great

self-complacency. After sailing, however, above a hundred miles up the

river, he found the watery world around him began to grow more shallow

and confined, the current more rapid, and perfectly fresh,—phenomena not

uncommon in the ascent of rivers, but which puzzled the honest Dutchmen

prodigiously. A consultation was therefore called, and having

deliberated full six hours, they were brought to a determination by the

ship’s running aground,—whereupon they unanimously concluded that there

was but little chance of getting to China in this direction. A boat,

however, was despatched to explore higher up the river, which, on its

return, confirmed the opinion; upon this the ship was warped off and put

about, with great difficulty, being, like most of her sex, exceedingly

hard to govern; and the adventurous Hudson, according to the account of

my great-great-grandfather, returned down the river—with a prodigious

flea in his ear!

Being satisfied that there was little likelihood of getting to China,

unless, like the blind man, he returned from whence he set out, and took

a fresh start, he forthwith recrossed the sea to Holland, where he was

received with great welcome by the honorable East India Company, who

were very much rejoiced to see him come back safe—with their ship; and

at a large and respectable meeting of the first merchants and

burgomasters of Amsterdam, it was unanimously determined, that, as a

munificent reward for the important discovery he had made, the great

river Mohegan should be called after his name!—and it continues to be

called Hudson river unto this very day.

[Illustration]

=Chapter II.=

CONTAINING AN ACCOUNT OF A MIGHTY ARK WHICH FLOATED, UNDER THE

PROTECTION OF ST. NICHOLAS, FROM HOLLAND TO GIBBET ISLAND,—THE

DESCENT OF THE STRANGE ANIMALS THEREFROM,—A GREAT VICTORY, AND A

DESCRIPTION OF THE ANCIENT VILLAGE OF COMMUNIPAW.

The delectable accounts given by the great Hudson, and Master Juet, of

the country they had discovered, excited not a little talk and

speculation among the good people of Holland. Letters-patent were

granted by government to an association of merchants, called the West

India Company, for the exclusive trade on Hudson river, on which they

erected a trading-house, called Fort Aurania, or Orange, from whence did

spring the great city of Albany. But I forbear to dwell on the various

commercial and colonizing enterprises which took place,—among which was

that of Mynheer Adrian Block, who discovered and gave a name to Block

Island, since famous for its cheese,—and shall barely confine myself to

that which gave birth to this renowned city.

It was some three or four years after the return of the immortal

Hendrick, that a crew of honest, Low-Dutch colonists set sail from

the city of Amsterdam for the shores of America. It is an

irreparable loss to history, and a great proof of the darkness of

the age, and the lamentable neglect of the noble art of book-making,

since so industriously cultivated by knowing sea-captains, and

learned supercargoes, that an expedition so interesting and

important in its results should be passed over in utter silence. To

my great-great-grandfather am I again indebted for the few facts I

am enabled to give concerning it,—he having once more embarked for

this country with a full determination, as he said, of ending his

days here, and of begetting a race of Knickerbockers that should

rise to be great men in the land.

The ship in which these illustrious adventurers set sail was called the

_Goede Vrouw_, or good woman, in compliment to the wife of the President

of the West India Company, who was allowed by everybody (except her

husband) to be a sweet-tempered lady—when not in liquor. It was in truth

a most gallant vessel, of the most improved Dutch construction, and made

by the ablest ship-carpenters of Amsterdam, who it is well known, always

model their ships after the fair forms of their country-women.

Accordingly it had one hundred feet in the beam, one hundred feet in the

keel, and one hundred feet from the bottom of the stern-post to the

tafferel. Like the beauteous model, who was declared to be the greatest

belle in Amsterdam, it was full in the bows, with a pair of enormous

catheads, a copper bottom, and withal a most prodigious poop.

The architect, who was somewhat of a religious man, far from decorating

the ship with pagan idols, such as Jupiter, Neptune, or Hercules (which

heathenish abominations, I have no doubt, occasion the misfortunes and

shipwreck of many a noble vessel)—he, I say on the contrary, did

laudably erect for a head, a goodly image of St. Nicholas, equipped with

a low, broad-brimmed hat, a huge pair of Flemish trunk-hose, and a pipe

that reached to the end of the bowsprit. Thus gallantly furnished, the

stanch ship floated sideways, like a majestic goose, out of the harbor

of the great city of Amsterdam, and all the bells, that were not

otherwise engaged, rang a triple bob-major on the joyful occasion.

My great-great-grandfather remarks, that the voyage was uncommonly

prosperous, for, being under the especial care of the ever-revered St.

Nicholas, the _Goede Vrouw_ seemed to be endowed with qualities unknown

to common vessels. Thus she made as much leeway as headway, could get

along very nearly as fast with the wind ahead as when it was a-poop,—and

was particularly great in a calm; in consequence of which singular

advantages she made out to accomplish her voyage in a very few months,

and came to anchor at the mouth of the Hudson, a little to the east of

Gibbet Island.

Here, lifting up their eyes, they beheld, on what is at present called

the Jersey shore, a small Indian village, pleasantly embowered in a

grove of spreading elms, and the natives all collected on the beach,

gazing in stupid admiration at the _Goede Vrouw_. A boat was immediately

despatched to enter into a treaty with them, and approaching the shore,

hailed them through a trumpet, in the most friendly terms; but so

horribly confounded were these poor savages at the tremendous and

uncouth sound of the Low-Dutch language, that they one and all took to

their heels, and scampered over the Bergen hills; nor did they stop

until they had buried themselves, head and ears, in the marshes on the

other side, where they all miserably perished to a man;—and their bones,

being collected and decently covered by the Tammany Society of that day,

formed that singular mound called RATTLESNAKE HILL, which rises out of

the centre of the salt marshes a little to the east of the Newark

Causeway.

[Illustration: “THEY ONE AND ALL TOOK TO THEIR HEELS, AND SCAMPERED OVER

THE BERGEN HILLS.”]

Animated by this unlooked-for victory, our valiant heroes sprang ashore

in triumph, took possession of the soil as conquerors, in the name of

their High Mightinesses the Lords States-General; and, marching

fearlessly forward, carried the village of COMMUNIPAW by storm,

notwithstanding that it was vigorously defended by some half a score of

old squaws and pappooses. On looking about them they were so transported

with the excellences of the place, that they had very little doubt the

blessed St. Nicholas had guided them thither, as the very spot whereon

to settle their colony. The softness of the soil was wonderfully adapted

to the driving of piles; the swamps and marshes around them afforded

ample opportunities for the constructing of dykes and dams; the

shallowness of the shore was peculiarly favorable to the building of

docks;—in a word, this spot abounded with all the requisites for the

foundation of a great Dutch city. On making a faithful report,

therefore, to the crew of the _Goede Vrouw_, they one and all determined

that this was the destined end of their voyage. Accordingly they

descended from the _Goede Vrouw_, men, women, and children, in goodly

groups, as did the animals of yore from the ark, and formed themselves

into a thriving settlement, which they called by the Indian name

COMMUNIPAW.

As all the world is doubtless perfectly acquainted with Communipaw, it

may seem somewhat superfluous to treat of it in the present work; but my

readers will please to recollect, notwithstanding it is my chief desire

to satisfy the present age, yet I write likewise for posterity, and have

to consult the understanding and curiosity of some half a score of

centuries yet to come, by which time, perhaps, were it not for this

invaluable history, the great Communipaw, like Babylon, Carthage,

Nineveh, and other great cities, might be perfectly extinct,—sunk and

forgotten in its own mud,—its inhabitants turned into oysters,[25] and

even its situation a fertile subject of learned controversy and

hard-headed investigation among indefatigable historians. Let me then

piously rescue from oblivion the humble relics of a place, which was the

egg from whence was hatched the mighty city of New York!

Communipaw is at present but a small village, pleasantly situated, among

rural scenery, on that beauteous part of the Jersey shore which was

known in ancient legends by the name of Pavonia,[26] and commands a

grand prospect of the superb bay of New York. It is within but half an

hour’s sail of the latter place, provided you have a fair wind, and may

be distinctly seen from the city. Nay, it is a well-known fact, which I

can testify from my own experience, that on a clear, still summer

evening, you may hear, from the Battery of New York, the obstreperous

peals of broad-mouthed laughter of the Dutch negroes at Communipaw, who,

like most other negroes, are famous for their risible powers. This is

peculiarly the case on Sunday evenings, when, it is remarked by an

ingenious and observant philosopher, who has made great discoveries in

the neighborhood of this city, that they always laugh loudest, which he

attributes to the circumstance of their having their holiday clothes on.

These negroes, in fact, like the monks of the dark ages, engross all the

knowledge of the place, and being infinitely more adventurous and more

knowing than their masters, carry on all the foreign trade; making

frequent voyages to town in canoes loaded with oysters, buttermilk, and

cabbages. They are great astrologers, predicting the different changes

of weather almost as accurately as an almanac; they are moreover

exquisite performers on three-stringed fiddles; in whistling they almost

boast the far-famed powers of Orpheus’ lyre, for not a horse or an ox in

the place, when at the plough or before the wagon, will budge a foot

until he hears the well-known whistle of his black driver and

companion.—And from their amazing skill at casting up accounts upon

their fingers, they are regarded with as much veneration as were the

disciples of Pythagoras of yore, when initiated into the sacred

quaternary of numbers.

[Illustration: THE BROAD-MOUTHED LAUGHTER OF THE DUTCH NEGROES.]

As to the honest burghers of Communipaw, like wise men and sound

philosophers, they never look beyond their pipes, nor trouble their

heads about any affairs out of their immediate neighborhood; so that

they live in profound and enviable ignorance of all the troubles,

anxieties, and revolutions of this distracted planet. I am even told

that many among them do verily believe that Holland, of which they have

heard so much from tradition, is situated somewhere on Long Island,—that

_Spiking-devil_ and the _Narrows_ are the two ends of the world,—that

the country is still under the dominion of their High Mightinesses,—and

that the city of New York still goes by the name of Nieuw Amsterdam.

They meet every Saturday afternoon at the only tavern in the place,

which bears as a sign a square-headed likeness of the Prince of Orange,

where they smoke a silent pipe, by way of promoting social conviviality,

and invariably drink a mug of cider to the success of Admiral Van Tromp,

who they imagine is still sweeping the British channel, with a broom at

his mast-head.

Communipaw, in short, is one of the numerous little villages in the

vicinity of this most beautiful of cities, which are so many strongholds

and fastnesses, whither the primitive manners of our Dutch forefathers

have retreated, and where they are cherished with devout and scrupulous

strictness. The dress of the original settlers is handed down inviolate,

from father to son: the identical broad-brimmed hat, broad-skirted coat,

and broad-bottomed breeches, continue from generation to generation; and

several gigantic knee-buckles of massy silver are still in wear, that

made gallant display in the days of the patriarchs of Communipaw. The

language likewise continues unadulterated by barbarous innovations; and

so critically correct is the village schoolmaster in his dialect, that

his reading of a Low-Dutch psalm has much the same effect on the nerves

as the filing of a handsaw.

[Illustration]

=Chapter III.=

IN WHICH IS SET FORTH THE TRUE ART OF MAKING A BARGAIN—TOGETHER WITH

THE MIRACULOUS ESCAPE OF A GREAT METROPOLIS IN A FOG—AND THE

BIOGRAPHY OF CERTAIN HEROES OF COMMUNIPAW.

Having, in the trifling digression which concluded the last chapter,

discharged the filial duty which the city of New York owed to

Communipaw, as being the mother settlement, and having given a faithful

picture of it as it stands at present, I return with a soothing

sentiment of self-approbation, to dwell upon its early history. The crew

of the _Goede Vrouw_ being soon reinforced by fresh importations from

Holland, the settlement went jollily on, increasing in magnitude and

prosperity. The neighboring Indians in a short time became accustomed to

the uncouth sound of the Dutch language, and an intercourse gradually

took place between them and the newcomers. The Indians were much given

to long talks, and the Dutch to long silence;—in this particular,

therefore, they accommodated each other completely. The chiefs would

make long speeches about the big bull, the Wabash, and the Great Spirit,

to which the others would listen very attentively, smoke their pipes,

and grunt _yah, mynher_,—whereat the poor savages were wondrously

delighted. They instructed the new settlers in the best art of curing

and smoking tobacco, while the latter, in return, made them drunk with

true Hollands—and then taught them the art of making bargains.

[Illustration: “MADE THEM DRUNK WITH TRUE HOLLANDS.”]

A brisk trade for furs was soon opened; the Dutch traders were

scrupulously honest in their dealings, and purchased by weight,

establishing it as an invariable table of avoirdupois, that the hand of

a Dutchman weighed one pound, and his foot two pounds. It is true, the

simple Indians were often puzzled by the great disproportion between

bulk and weight, for let them place a bundle of furs, never so large, in

one scale, and a Dutchman put his hand or foot in the other, the bundle

was sure to kick the beam;—never was a package of furs known to weigh

more than two pounds in the market of Communipaw.

This is a singular fact,—but I have it direct from my

great-great-grandfather, who had risen to considerable importance in the

colony, being promoted to the office of weigh-master, on account of the

uncommon heaviness of his foot.

The Dutch possessions in this part of the globe began now to assume a

very thriving appearance, and were comprehended under the general title

of Nieuw Nederlandts, on account, as the sage Vander Donck observes, of

their great resemblance to the Dutch Netherlands,—which indeed was truly

remarkable, excepting that the former were rugged and mountainous, and

the latter level and marshy. About this time the tranquillity of the

Dutch colonists was doomed to suffer a temporary interruption. In 1614,

Captain Sir Samuel Argal, sailing under a commission from Dale, governor

of Virginia, visited the Dutch settlements on Hudson River and demanded

their submission to the English crown and Virginian dominion. To this

arrogant demand, as they were in no condition to resist it, they

submitted for the time, like discreet and reasonable men.

[Illustration: THE OFFICIAL WEIGHT.]

It does not appear that the valiant Argal molested the settlement of

Communipaw; on the contrary, I am told that when his vessel first hove

in sight, the worthy burghers were seized with such a panic, that they

fell to smoking their pipes with astonishing vehemence; insomuch that

they quickly raised a cloud, which, combining with the surrounding woods

and marshes, completely enveloped and concealed their beloved village,

and overhung the fair regions of Pavonia,—so that the terrible Captain

Argal passed on, totally unsuspicious that a sturdy little Dutch

settlement lay snugly couched in the mud, under cover of all this

pestilent vapor. In commemoration of this fortunate escape, the worthy

inhabitants have continued to smoke, almost without intermission, unto

this very day; which is said to be the cause of the remarkable fog which

often hangs over Communipaw of a clear afternoon.

[Illustration: OLOFFE VAN KORTLANDT.]

Upon the departure of the enemy, our worthy ancestors took full six

months to recover their wind and get over the consternation into which

they had been thrown. They then called a council of safety to smoke over

the state of the province. At this council presided one Oloffe Van

Kortlandt, a personage who was held in great reverence among the sages

of Communipaw for the variety and darkness of his knowledge. He had

originally been one of a set of peripatetic philosophers who passed much

of their time sunning themselves on the side of the great canal of

Amsterdam in Holland; enjoying, like Diogenes, a free and unencumbered

estate in sunshine. His name Kortlandt (Shortland or Lackland) was

supposed, like that of the illustrious Jean Sansterre, to indicate that

he had _no land_; but he insisted, on the contrary, that he had great

landed estates somewhere in Terra Incognita; and he had come out to the

new world to look after them. He was the first great land-speculator

that we read of in these parts.

Like all land-speculators, he was much given to dreaming. Never did

anything extraordinary happen at Communipaw but he declared that he had

previously dreamt it, being one of those infallible prophets who predict

events after they have come to pass. This supernatural gift was as

highly valued among the burghers of Pavonia as among the enlightened

nations of antiquity. The wise Ulysses was more indebted to his sleeping

than his waking moments for his subtle achievements, and seldom

undertook any great exploit without first soundly sleeping upon it; and

the same may be said of Oloffe Van Kortlandt, who was thence aptly

denominated Oloffe the Dreamer.

As yet his dreams and speculations had turned to little personal profit;

and he was as much a lackland as ever. Still he carried a high head in

the community; if his sugar-loaf hat was rather the worse for wear, he

set it off with a taller cock’s-tail; if his shirt was none of the

cleanest, he puffed it out the more at the bosom; and if the tail of it

peeped out of a hole in his breeches, it at least proved that it really

had a tail and was not mere ruffle.

The worthy Van Kortlandt, in the council in question, urged the policy

of emerging from the swamps of Communipaw and seeking some more eligible

site for the seat of empire. Such, he said, was the advice of the good

St. Nicholas, who had appeared to him in a dream the night before; and

whom he had known by his broad hat, his long pipe, and the resemblance

which he bore to the figure on the bow of the _Goede Vrouw_.

Many have thought this dream was a mere invention of Oloffe Van

Kortlandt, who, it is said, had ever regarded Communipaw with an evil

eye because he had arrived there after all the land had been shared out,

and who was anxious to change the seat of empire to some new place,

where he might be present at the distribution of “town lots.” But we

must not give heed to such insinuations, which are too apt to be

advanced against those worthy gentlemen engaged in laying out towns, and

in other land-speculations. For my own part, I am disposed to place the

same implicit faith in the vision of Oloffe the Dreamer that was

manifested by the honest burghers of Communipaw, who one and all agreed

that an expedition should be forthwith fitted out to go on a voyage of

discovery in quest of a new seat of empire.

This perilous enterprise was to be conducted by Oloffe himself; who

chose as lieutenants or coadjutors Mynheers Abraham Harden Broeck,

Jacobus Van Zandt, and Winant Ten Broeck,—three indubitably great men,

but of whose history, although I have made diligent inquiry, I can learn

but little previous to their leaving Holland. Nor need this occasion

much surprise; for adventurers, like prophets, though they make great

noise abroad, have seldom much celebrity in their own countries; but

this much is certain, that the overflowings and off-scourings of a

country are invariably composed of the richest parts of the soil. And

here I cannot help remarking how convenient it would be to many of our

great men and great families of doubtful origin, could they have the

privilege of the heroes of yore, who, whenever their origin was involved

in obscurity, modestly announced themselves descended from a god,—and

who never visited a foreign country but what they told some

cock-and-bull stories about their being kings and princes at home. This

venal trespass on the truth, though it has been occasionally played off

by some pseudo-marquis, baronet, and other illustrious foreigner, in our

land of good-natured credulity, has been completely discountenanced in

this skeptical, matter-of-fact age; and I even question whether any

tender virgin, who was accidentally and unaccountably enriched with a

bantling, would save her character at parlor firesides and evening

tea-parties by ascribing the phenomenon to a swan, a shower of gold, or

a river god.

Had I the benefit of mythology and classic fable above alluded to, I

should have furnished the first of the trio with a pedigree equal to

that of the proudest hero of antiquity. His name, Van Zandt, that is to

say, _from the sand_, or, in common parlance, from the dirt, gave reason

to suppose that, like Triptolemus, Themes, the Cyclops, and the Titans,

he had sprung from Dame Terra, on the earth! This supposition is

strongly corroborated by his size, for it is well known that all the

progeny of mother earth were of a gigantic stature; and Van Zandt, we

are told, was a tall, raw-boned man, above six feet high, with an

astonishingly hard head. Nor is this origin of the illustrious Van Zandt

a whit more improbable or repugnant to belief than what is related and

universally admitted of certain of our greatest, or rather richest men;

who, we are told with the utmost gravity, did originally spring from a

dunghill!

Of the second of the trio but faint accounts have reached to this time,

which mention that he was a sturdy, obstinate, worrying, bustling little

man; and, from being usually equipped in an old pair of buckskins, was

familiarly dubbed Harden Broeck: that is to say, Hard in the Breech, or,

as it was generally rendered, Tough Breeches.

Ten Broeck completed this junto of adventurers. It is a singular but

ludicrous fact,—which, were I not scrupulous in recording the whole

truth, I should almost be tempted to pass over in silence as

incompatible with the gravity and dignity of history,—that this worthy

gentleman should likewise have been nicknamed from what in modern times

is considered the most ignoble part of the dress. But in truth the

small-clothes seems to have been a very dignified garment in the eyes of

our venerated ancestors, in all probability from its covering that part

of the body which has been pronounced “the seat of honor.”

[Illustration: TOUGH BREECHES.]

The name of Ten Broeck, or, as it was sometimes spelled, Tin Broeck, has

been indifferently translated into Ten Breeches and Tin Breeches.

Certain elegant and ingenious writers on the subject declare in favor of

_Tin_ or rather _Thin_ Breeches; whence they infer that the original

bearer of it was a poor but merry rogue, whose galligaskins were none of

the soundest, and who, peradventure, may have been the author of that

truly philosophical stanza:—

“Then why should we quarrel for riches,

Or any such glittering toys;

A light heart and _thin pair of breeches_,

Will go through the world, my brave boys!”

The more accurate commentators, however, declare in favor of the other

reading, and affirm that the worthy in question was a burly, bulbous

man, who, in sheer ostentation of his venerable progenitors, was the

first to introduce into the settlement the ancient Dutch fashion of ten

pair of breeches.

Such was the trio of coadjutors chosen by Oloffe the Dreamer to

accompany him in this voyage into unknown realms; as to the names of his

crews, they have not been handed down by history.

Having, as I before observed, passed much of his life in the open air,

among the peripatetic philosophers of Amsterdam, Oloffe had become

familiar with the aspect of the heavens, and could as accurately

determine when a storm was brewing or a squall rising, as a dutiful

husband can foresee, from the brow of his spouse, when a tempest is

gathering about his ears. Having pitched upon a time for his voyage when

the skies appeared propitious, he exhorted all his crews to take a good

night’s rest, wind up their family affairs, and make their wills;

precautions taken by our forefathers even in after-times when they

became more adventurous, and voyaged to Haverstraw, or Kaatskill, or

Groodt Esopus, or any other far country, beyond the great waters of the

Tappaan Zee.

[Illustration]

=Chapter IV.=

HOW THE HEROES OF COMMUNIPAW VOYAGED TO HELL-GATE, AND HOW THEY WERE

RECEIVED THERE.

And now the rosy blush of morn began to mantle in the east, and soon the

rising sun, emerging from amidst golden and purple clouds, shed his

blithesome rays on the tin weathercocks of Communipaw. It was that

delicious season of the year, when nature, breaking from the chilling

thraldom of old winter, like a blooming damsel from the tyranny of a

sordid old father, threw herself, blushing with ten thousand charms,

into the arms of youthful spring. Every tufted copse and blooming grove

resounded with the notes of hymeneal love. The very insects, as they

sipped the dew that gemmed the tender grass of the meadows, joined in

the joyous epithalamium,—the virgin bud timidly put forth its blushes,

“the voice of the turtle was heard in the land,” and the heart of man

dissolved away in tenderness. Oh! sweet Theocritus! had I thine oaten

reed, wherewith thou erst did charm the gay Sicilian plains;—or, oh!

gentle Bion! thy pastoral pipe, wherein the happy swains of the Lesbian

isle so much delighted, then might I attempt to sing, in soft Bucolic or

negligent Idyllium, the rural beauties of the scene;—but having nothing,

save this jaded goosequill, wherewith to wing my flight, I must fain

resign all poetic disportings of the fancy and pursue my narrative in

humble prose; comforting myself with the hope, that, though it may not

steal so sweetly upon the imagination of my reader, yet it may commend

itself with virgin modesty to his better judgment, clothed in the chaste

and simple garb of truth.

No sooner did the first rays of cheerful Phœbus dart into the windows of

Communipaw, than the little settlement was all in motion. Forth issued

from his castle the sage Van Kortlandt, and seizing a conch shell, blew

a far resounding blast, that soon summoned all his lusty followers. Then

did they trudge resolutely down to the water-side, escorted by a

multitude of relatives and friends, who all went down, as the common

phrase expresses it, “to see them off.” And this shows the antiquity, of

those long family processions, often seen in our city, composed of all

ages, sizes, and sexes laden with bundles and bandboxes, escorting some

bevy of country cousins, about to depart for home in a market-boat.

The good Oloffe bestowed his forces in a squadron of three canoes, and

hoisted his flag on board a little round Dutch boat, shaped not unlike a

tub, which had formerly been the jolly-boat of the _Goede Vrouw_. And

now, all being embarked, they bade farewell to the gazing throng upon

the beach, who continued shouting after them, even when out of hearing,

wishing them a happy voyage, advising them to take good care of

themselves, not to get drowned, with an abundance other of those sage

and invaluable cautions, generally given by landsmen to such as go down

to the sea in ships, and adventure upon the deep waters. In the

meanwhile the voyagers cheerily urged their course across the crystal

bosom of the bay, and soon left behind them the green shores of ancient

Pavonia.

[Illustration: “THEY BADE FAREWELL TO THE GAZING THRONG UPON THE

BEACH.”]

And first they touched at two small islands which lay nearly opposite

Communipaw, and which are said to have been brought into existence about

the time of the great irruption of the Hudson, when it broke through the

Highlands and made its way to the ocean.[27] For in this tremendous

uproar of the waters, we are told that many huge fragments of rock and

land were rent from the mountains and swept down by this runaway river,

for sixty or seventy miles; where some of them ran aground on the shoals

just opposite Communipaw, and formed the identical islands in question,

while others drifted out to sea, and were never heard of more! A

sufficient proof of the fact is, that the rock which forms the basis of

these islands is exactly similar to that of the Highlands, and,

moreover, one of our philosophers, who has diligently compared the

agreement of their respective surfaces, has even gone so far as to

assure me, in confidence, that Gibbet Island was originally nothing more

nor less then a wart on Anthony’s Nose.[28]

Leaving these wonderful little isles, they next coasted by Governor’s

Island since terrible from its frowning fortress and grinning batteries.

They would by no means, however, land upon this island, since they

doubted much it might be the abode of demons and spirits, which in those

days did greatly abound throughout this savage and pagan country.

Just at this time a shoal of jolly porpoises came rolling and tumbling

by, turning up their sleek sides to the sun, and spouting up the briny

element in sparkling showers. No sooner did the sage Oloffe mark this,

than he was greatly rejoiced. “This,” exclaimed he, “if I mistake not,

augurs well: the porpoise is a fat, well-conditioned fish,—a burgomaster

among fishes,—his looks betoken ease, plenty, and prosperity; I greatly

admire this round fat fish, and doubt not but this is a happy omen of

the success of our undertaking.” So saying, he directed his squadron to

steer in the track of these alderman fishes.

[Illustration: “A SHOAL OF JOLLY PORPOISES CAME ROLLING AND TUMBLING

BY.”]

Turning, therefore, directly to the left, they swept up the strait

vulgarly called East River. And here the rapid tide which courses

through this strait, seizing on the gallant tub in which Commodore Van

Kortlandt had embarked, hurried it forward with a velocity unparalleled

in a Dutch boat, navigated by Dutchmen; insomuch that the good

commodore, who had all his life long been accustomed only to the drowsy

navigation of canals, was more than ever convinced that they were in the

hands of some supernatural power, and that the jolly porpoises were

towing them to some fair haven that was to fulfil all their wishes and

expectations.

Thus borne away by the resistless current, they doubled that boisterous

point of land since called Corlear’s Hook[29] and leaving to the right

the rich winding cove of the Wallabout, they drifted into a magnificent

expanse of water, surrounded by pleasant shores, whose verdure was

exceedingly refreshing to the eye. While the voyagers were looking

around them, on what they conceived to be a serene and sunny lake, they

beheld at a distance a crew of painted savages, busily employed in

fishing, who seemed more like the genii of this romantic region,—their

slender canoe lightly balanced like a feather on the undulated surface

of the bay.

[Illustration: “AND TURNING AWAY HIS HEAD, FIRED IT MOST INTREPIDLY IN

THE FACE OF THE BLESSED SUN.”]

At sight of these the hearts of the heroes of Communipaw were not a

little troubled. But as good fortune would have it, at the bow of the

commodore’s boat was stationed a very valiant man, named Hendrick Kip

(which, being interpreted, means _chicken_, a name given him in token of

his courage). No sooner did he behold these varlet heathens than he

trembled with excessive valor, and although a good half-mile distant, he

seized a musketoon that lay at hand, and turning away his head, fired it

most intrepidly in the face of the blessed sun. The blundering weapon

recoiled and gave the valiant Kip an ignominious kick, which laid him

prostrate with uplifted heels in the bottom of the boat. But such was

the effect of this tremendous fire, that the wild men of the woods,

struck with consternation, seized hastily upon their paddles, and shot

away into one of the deep inlets of the Long Island shore.

This signal victory gave new spirits to the voyagers; and in honor of

the achievement they gave the name of the valiant Kip to the surrounding

bay, and it has continued to be called Kip’s Bay from that time to the

present. The heart of the good Van Kortlandt—who, having no land of his

own, was a great admirer of other people’s—expanded to the full size of

a pepper-corn at the sumptuous prospect of rich unsettled country around

him, and falling into a delicious revery, he straightway began to riot

in the possession of vast meadows of salt marsh and interminable patches

of cabbages. From this delectable vision he was all at once awakened by

the sudden turning of the tide, which would soon have hurried him from

this land of promise, had not the discreet navigator given signal to

steer for shore; where they accordingly landed hard by the rocky heights

of Bellevue,—that happy retreat, where our jolly alderman eat for the

good of the city, and fatten the turtle that are sacrificed on civic

solemnities.

Here, seated on the greensward, by the side of a small stream that ran

sparkling among the grass, they refreshed themselves after the toils of

the seas, by feasting lustily on the ample stores which they had

provided for this perilous voyage. Thus having well fortified their

deliberative powers, they fell into an earnest consultation, what was

further to be done. This was the first council-dinner ever eaten at

Bellevue by Christian burghers; and here, as tradition relates, did

originate the great family feud between the Harden Broecks and the Ten

Broecks, which afterwards had a singular influence on the building of

the city. The sturdy Harden Broeck, whose eyes had been wondrously

delighted with the salt marshes which spread their reeking bosoms along

the coast, at the bottom of Kip’s Bay, counselled by all means to return

thither, and found the intended city. This was strenuously opposed by

the unbending Ten Broeck, and many testy arguments passed between them.

The particulars of this controversy have not reached us, which is ever

to be lamented; this much is certain, that the sage Oloffe put an end to

the dispute by determining to explore still farther in the route which

the mysterious porpoises had so clearly pointed out;—whereupon the

sturdy Tough Breeches abandoned the expedition, took possession of a

neighboring hill, and in a fit of great wrath peopled all that tract of

country, which has continued to be inhabited by the Harden Broecks unto

this very day.

By this time the jolly Phœbus, like some wanton urchin sporting on the

side of a green hill, began to roll down the declivity of the heavens;

and now, the tide having once more turned in their favor, the Pavonians

again committed themselves to its discretion, and coasting along the

western shores, were borne towards the straits of Blackwell’s Island.

And here the capricious wanderings of the current occasioned not a

little marvel and perplexity to these illustrious mariners. Now would

they be caught by the wanton eddies, and, sweeping round a jutting

point, would wind deep into some romantic little cove, that indented the

fair island of Manna-hatta; now were they hurried narrowly by the very

bases of impending rocks, mantled with the flaunting grape-vine, and

crowned with groves which threw a broad shade on the waves beneath; and

anon they were borne away into the mid-channel and wafted along with a

rapidity that very much discomposed the sage Van Kortlandt, who, as he

saw the land swiftly receding on either side, began exceedingly to doubt

that _terra firma_ was giving them the slip.

Wherever the voyagers turned their eyes, a new creation seemed to bloom

around. No signs of human thrift appeared to check the delicious

wildness of nature, who here revelled in all her luxuriant variety.

Those hills, now bristled, like the fretful porcupine, with rows of

poplars, (vain upstart plants! minions of wealth and fashion!) were then

adorned with the vigorous natives of the soil: the lordly oak, the

generous chestnut, the graceful elm,—while here and there the tulip-tree

reared its majestic head, the giant of the forest. Where now are seen

the gay retreats of luxury,—villas half buried in twilight bowers,

whence the amorous flute oft breathes the sighings of some city

swain,—there the fish-hawk built his solitary nest on some dry tree that

overlooked his watery domain. The timid deer fed undisturbed along those

shores now hallowed by the lovers’ moonlight walk, and printed by the

slender foot of beauty; and a savage solitude extended over those happy

regions, where now are reared the stately towers of the Joneses, the

Schermerhornes, and the Rhinelanders.

Thus gliding in silent wonder through these new and unknown scenes, the

gallant squadron of Pavonia swept by the foot of a promontory, which

strutted forth boldly into the waves, and seemed to frown upon them as

they brawled against its base. This is the bluff well known to modern

mariners by the name of Gracie’s Point, from the fair castle which, like

an elephant, it carries upon its back. And here broke upon their view a

wild and varied prospect, where land and water were beauteously

intermingled, as though they had combined to heighten and set off each

other’s charms. To the right lay the sedgy point of Blackwell’s Island,

dressed in the fresh garniture of living green,—beyond it stretched the

pleasant coast of Sundswick, and the small harbor well known by the name

of Hallet’s Cove,—a place infamous in latter days, by reason of its

being the haunt of pirates who infest these seas, robbing orchards and

watermelon patches, and insulting gentlemen navigators, when voyaging in

their pleasure-boats. To the left a deep bay, or rather creek,

gracefully receded between shores fringed with forests, and forming a

kind of vista, through which were beheld the sylvan regions of Haerlem,

Morrisania, and East Chester. Here the eye reposed with delight on a

richly wooded country, diversified by tufted knolls, shadowy intervals,

and waving lines of upland, swelling above each other, while over the

whole the purple mists of spring diffused a hue of soft voluptuousness.

[Illustration: “ALONG THOSE SHORES.”]

Just before them the grand course of the stream, making a sudden bend,

wound among embowered promontories and shores of emerald verdure, that

seemed to melt into the wave. A character of gentleness and mild

fertility prevailed around. The sun had just descended, and the thin

haze of twilight, like a transparent veil drawn over the bosom of virgin

beauty, heightened the charms which it half concealed.

Ah! witching scenes of foul delusion. Ah! hapless voyagers, gazing with

simple wonder on these Circean shores! Such, alas! are they, poor easy

souls, who listen to the seductions of a wicked world,—treacherous are

its smiles! fatal its caresses. He who yields to its enticements

launches upon a whelming tide, and trusts his feeble bark among the

dimpling eddies of a whirlpool! And thus it fared with the worthies of

Pavonia, who, little mistrusting the guileful scenes before them,

drifted quietly on, until they were aroused by an uncommon tossing and

agitation of their vessels. For now the late dimpling current began to

brawl around them, and the waves to boil and foam with horrific fury.

Awakened as if from a dream, the astonished Oloffe bawled aloud to put

about, but his words were lost amid the roaring of the waters. And now

ensued a scene of direful consternation. At one time they were borne

with dreadful velocity among tumultuous breakers; at another, hurried

down boisterous rapids. Now they were nearly dashed upon the Hen and

Chickens (infamous rocks!—more voracious than Scylla and her whelps),

and anon they seemed sinking into yawning gulfs, that threatened to

entomb them beneath the waves. All the elements combined to produce a

hideous confusion. The waters raged, the winds howled; and as they were

hurried along, several of the astonished mariners beheld the rocks and

trees of the neighboring shores driving through the air!

[Illustration: “AND ANON THEY SEEMED SINKING INTO YAWNING GULFS.”]

At length the mighty tub of Commodore Van Kortlandt was drawn into the

vortex of that tremendous whirlpool called the Pot, where it was whirled

about in giddy mazes, until the senses of the good commander and his

crew were overpowered by the horror of the scene, and the strangeness of

the revolution.

How the gallant squadron of Pavonia was snatched from the jaws of this

modern Charybdis, has never been truly made known, for so many survived

to tell the tale, and, what is still more wonderful, told it in so many

different ways, that there has ever prevailed a great variety of

opinions on the subject.

As to the commodore and his crew, when they came to their senses, they

found themselves stranded on the Long Island shore. The worthy

commodore, indeed, used to relate many and wonderful stories of his

adventures in this time of peril: how that he saw spectres flying in the

air, and heard the yelling of hobgoblins, and put his hand into the pot

when they were whirled round, and found the water scalding hot, and

beheld several uncouth-looking beings seated on rocks and skimming it

with huge ladles; but particularly he declared with great exultation,

that he saw the losel porpoises, which had betrayed them into this

peril, some broiling on the Gridiron, and others hissing on the

Frying-pan!

[Illustration: THE DEVIL SITTING ASTRIDE OF THE HOG’S BACK AND PLAYING

ON A FIDDLE.]

These, however, were considered by many as mere fantasies of the

commodore, while he lay in a trance; especially as he was known to be

given to dreaming; and the truth of them has never been clearly

ascertained. It is certain, however, that to the accounts of Oloffe and

his followers may be traced the various, traditions handed down of this

marvellous strait: as how the devil has been seen there, sitting astride

of the Hog’s Back and playing on the fiddle,—how he broils fish there

before a storm; and many other stories in which we must be cautious of

putting too much faith. In consequence of all these terrific

circumstances, the Pavonian commander gave this pass the name of

_Helle-gat_, or, as it has been interpreted, _Hell-Gate_[30]; which it

continues to bear at the present day.

[Illustration]

=Chapter V.=

HOW THE HEROES OF COMMUNIPAW RETURNED SOMEWHAT WISER THAN THEY

WENT—AND HOW THE SAGE OLOFFE DREAMED A DREAM—AND THE DREAM THAT HE

DREAMED.

The darkness of night had closed upon this disastrous day, and a doleful

night was it to the shipwrecked Pavonians, whose ears were incessantly

assailed with the raging of the elements, and the howling of the

hobgoblins that infested this perfidious strait. But when the morning

dawned, the horrors of the preceding evening had passed away; rapids,

breakers, and whirlpools had disappeared; the stream again ran smooth

and dimpling, and having changed its tide, rolled gently back, towards

the quarter where lay their much-regretted home.

The woe-begone heroes of Communipaw eyed each other with rueful

countenances; their squadron had been totally dispersed by the late

disaster. Some were cast upon the western shore, where, headed by one

Ruleff Hopper, they took possession of all the country lying about the

six-mile stone; which is held by the Hoppers at this present writing.

The Waldrons were driven by stress of weather to a distant coast, where,

having with them a jug of genuine Hollands, they were enabled to

conciliate the savages, setting up a kind of tavern; whence, it is said,

did spring the fair town of Haarlem, in which their descendants have

ever since continued to be reputable publicans. As to the Suydams, they

were thrown upon the Long Island coast, and may still be found in those

parts. But the most singular luck attended the great Ten Broeck, who,

falling overboard, was miraculously preserved from sinking by the

multitude of his nether garments. Thus buoyed up, he floated on the

waves like a merman, or like an angler’s dobber, until he landed safely

on a rock, where he was found the next morning, busily drying his many

breeches in the sunshine.

I forbear to treat of the long consultation of Oloffe with his remaining

followers, in which they determined that it would never do to found a

city in so diabolical a neighborhood. Suffice it in simple brevity to

say, that they once more committed themselves, with fear and trembling,

to the briny elements, and steered their course back again through the

scenes of their yesterday’s voyage, determined no longer to roam in

search of distant sites, but to settle themselves down in the marshy

regions of Pavonia.

Scarce, however, had they gained a distant view of Communipaw, when they

were encountered by an obstinate eddy, which opposed their homeward

voyage. Weary and dispirited as they were, they yet tugged a feeble oar

against the stream; until, as if to settle the strife, half a score of

potent billows rolled the tub of Commodore Van Kortlandt high and dry on

the long point of an island which divided the bosom of the bay.

[Illustration: TEN BROECK DRYING HIS BREECHES.]

Some pretend that these billows were sent by old Neptune to strand the

expedition on a spot whereon was to be founded his stronghold in this

western world; others, more pious, attribute everything to the

guardianship of the good St. Nicholas; and after-events will be found to

corroborate this opinion. Oloffe Van Kortlandt was a devout trencherman.

Every repast was a kind of religious rite with him; and his first

thought on finding himself once more on dry ground, was, how he should

contrive to celebrate his wonderful escape from Hell-gate and all its

horrors by a solemn banquet. The stores which had been provided for the

voyage by the good housewives of Communipaw were nearly exhausted, but,

in casting his eyes about, the commodore beheld that the shore abounded

with oysters. A great store of these was instantly collected; a fire was

made at the foot of a tree; all hands fell to roasting and broiling and

stewing and frying, and a sumptuous repast was soon set forth. This is

thought to be the origin of those civic feasts with which, to the

present day, all our public affairs are celebrated, and in which the

oyster is ever sure to play an important part.

On the present occasion, the worthy Van Kortlandt was observed to be

particularly zealous in his devotions to the trencher; for having the

cares of the expedition especially committed to his care, he deemed it

incumbent on him to eat profoundly for the public good. In proportion as

he filled himself to the very brim with the dainty viands before him,

did the heart of this excellent burgher rise up towards his throat,

until he seemed crammed and almost choked with good eating and

good-nature. And at such times it is, when a man’s heart is in his

throat, that he may more truly be said to speak from it, and his

speeches abound with kindness and good fellowship. Thus having swallowed

the last possible morsel, and washed it down with a fervent potation,

Oloffe felt his heart yearning, and his whole frame in a manner dilating

with unbounded benevolence. Everything around him seemed excellent and

delightful; and laying his hands on each side of his capacious

periphery, and rolling his half-closed eyes around on the beautiful

diversity of land and water before him, he exclaimed, in a fat

half-smothered voice, “What a charming prospect!” The words died away in

his throat,—he seemed to ponder on the fair scene for a moment,—his

eyelids heavily closed over their orbs,—his head drooped upon his

bosom,—he slowly sank upon the green turf, and a deep sleep stole

gradually over him.

[Illustration: “IN DIM OBSCURITY HE SAW SHADOWED OUT PALACES AND DOMES

AND LOFTY SPIRES.”]

And the sage Oloffe dreamed a dream,—and lo, the good St. Nicholas came

riding over the tops of the trees, in that self-same wagon wherein he

brings his yearly presents to children, and he descended hard by where

the heroes of Communipaw had made their late repast. And he lit his pipe

by the fire, and sat himself down and smoked; and as he smoked, the

smoke from his pipe ascended into the air and spread like a cloud

overhead. And Oloffe bethought him, and he hastened and climbed up to

the top of one of the tallest trees, and saw that the smoke spread over

a great extent of country; and as he considered it more attentively, he

fancied that the great volume of smoke assumed a variety of marvellous

forms, where in dim obscurity he saw shadowed out palaces and domes and

lofty spires, all of which lasted but a moment, and then faded away,

until the whole rolled off, and nothing but the green woods were left.

And when St. Nicholas had smoked his pipe, he twisted it in his hatband,

and laying his finger beside his nose, gave the astonished Van Kortlandt

a very significant look; then, mounting his wagon, he returned over the

tree-tops and disappeared.