meal, the encampment broke up, and our adventurers embarked in the
pinnace of Antony Vander Heyden. There being no wind for the sails,
the Indians rowed her gently along, keeping time to a kind of chant of
one of the white men: The day was serene and beautiful; the river
without a wave; and as the vessel cleft the glassy water, it left a
long, undulating track behind. The crows, who had scented the hunters'
banquèt, were already gathering and hovering in the air, just where a
column of thin, blue smoke, rising from among the trees, showed the
place of their last night's quarters. As they coasted along the bases
of the mountains, the Heer Antony pointed out to Dolph a bald eagle,
the sovereign of these regions, who sat perched on a dry tree that
projected over the river; and, with eye turned upwards, seemed to be
drinking in the splendour of the morning sun. Their approach disturbed
the monarch's meditations. He first spread one wing, and then the
other; balanced himself for a moment; and then, quitting his perch
with dignified composure, wheeled slowly over their heads. Dolph
snatched up a gun, and sent a whistling ball after him, that cut some
of the feathers from his wing; the report of the gun leaped sharply
from rock to rock, and awakened a thousand echoes; but the monarch of
the air sailed calmly on, ascending higher and higher, and wheeling
widely as he ascended, soaring up the green bosom of the woody
mountain, until he disappeared over the brow of a beetling precipice.
Dolph felt in a manner rebuked by this proud tranquillity, and almost
reproached himself for having so wantonly insulted this majestic bird.
Heer Antony told him, laughing, to remember that he was not yet out of
the territories of the lord of the Dunderberg; and an old Indian shook
his head, and observed that there was bad luck in killing an
eagle--the hunter, on the contrary, should always leave him a portion
of his spoils.
Nothing, however, occurred to molest them on their voyage. They passed
pleasantly through magnificent and lonely scenes, until they came to
where Pollopol's Island lay, like a floating bower, at the extremity
of the highlands. Here they landed, until the heat of the day should
abate, or a breeze spring up, that might supersede the labour of the
oar. Some prepared the mid-day meal, while others reposed under the
shade of the trees in luxurious summer indolence, looking drowsily
forth upon the beauty of the scene. On the one side were the
highlands, vast and cragged, feathered to the top with forests, and
throwing their shadows on the glassy water that dimpled at their feet.
On the other side was a wide expanse of the river, like a broad lake,
with long sunny reaches, and green headlands; and the distant line of
Shawungunk mountains waving along a clear horizon, or checkered by a
fleecy cloud.
But I forbear to dwell on the particulars of their cruise along the
river; this vagrant, amphibious life, careering across silver sheets
of water; coasting wild woodland shores; banqueting on shady
promontories, with the spreading tree overhead, the river curling its
light foam to one's feet, and distant mountain, and rock, and tree,
and snowy cloud, and deep-blue sky, all mingling in summer beauty
before one; all this, though never cloying in the enjoyment, would be
but tedious in narration.
When encamped by the water-side, some of the party would go into the
woods and hunt; others would fish: sometimes they would amuse
themselves by shooting at a mark, by leaping, by running, by
wrestling; and Dolph gained great favour in the eyes of Antony Vander
Heyden, by his skill and adroitness in all these exercises; which the
Heer considered as the highest of manly accomplishments.
Thus did they coast jollily on, choosing only the pleasant hours for
voyaging; sometimes in the cool morning dawn, sometimes in the sober
evening twilight, and sometimes when the moonshine spangled the crisp
curling waves that whispered along the sides of their little bark.
Never had Dolph felt so completely in his element; never had he met
with any thing so completely to his taste as this wild, hap-hazard
life. He was the very man to second Antony Vander Heyden in his
rambling humours, and gained continually on his affections. The heart
of the old bushwhacker yearned toward the young man, who seemed thus
growing up in his own likeness; and as they approached to the end of
their voyage, he could not help inquiring a little into his history.
Dolph frankly told him his course of life, his severe medical studies,
his little proficiency, and his very dubious prospects. The Heer was
shocked to find that such amazing talents and accomplishments were to
be cramped and buried under a doctor's wig. He had a sovereign
contempt for the healing art, having never had any other physician
than the butcher. He bore a mortal grudge to all kinds of study also,
ever since he had been flogged about an unintelligible book when he
was a boy. But to think that a young fellow like Dolph, of such
wonderful abilities, who could shoot, fish, run, jump, ride, and
wrestle, should be obliged, to roll pills and administer juleps for a
living--'twas monstrous! He told Dolph never to despair, but to "throw
physic to the dogs;" for a young fellow of his prodigious talents
could never fail to make his way. "As you seem to have no acquaintance
in Albany," said Heer Antony, "you shall go home with me, and remain
under my roof until you can look about you; and in the meantime we can
take an occasional bout at shooting and fishing, for it is a pity such
talents should lie idle."
Dolph, who was at the mercy of chance, was not hard to be persuaded.
Indeed, on turning over matters in his mind, which he did very sagely
and deliberately, he could not but think that Antony Vander Heyden
was, "some how or other," connected with the story of the Haunted
House; that the misadventure in the highlands, which had thrown them
so strangely together, was, "some how or other," to work out something
good: in short, there is nothing so convenient as this "some how or
other" way of accommodating one's self to circumstances; it is the
main-stay of a heedless actor, and tardy reasoner, like Dolph
Heyliger; and he who can, in this loose, easy way, link foregone evil
to anticipated good, possesses a secret of happiness almost equal to
the philosopher's stone.
On their arrival at Albany, the sight of Dolph's companion seemed to
cause universal satisfaction. Many were the greetings at the river
side, and the salutations in the streets: the dogs bounded before him;
the boys whooped as he passed; every body seemed to know Antony Vander
Heyden. Dolph followed on in silence, admiring the neatness of this
worthy burgh; for in those days Albany was in all its glory, and
inhabited almost exclusively by the descendants of the original Dutch
settlers, for it had not as yet been discovered and colonized by the
restless people of New-England. Every thing was quiet and orderly;
every thing was conducted calmly and leisurely; no hurry, no bustle,
no struggling and scrambling for existence. The grass grew about the
unpaved streets, and relieved the eye by its refreshing verdure. The
tall sycamores or pendent willows shaded the houses, with caterpillars
swinging, in long silken strings, from their branches, or moths,
fluttering about like coxcombs, in joy at their gay transformation.
The houses were built in the old Dutch style, with the gable-ends
towards the street. The thrifty housewife was seated on a bench before
her door, in close crimped cap, bright flowered gown, and white apron,
busily employed in knitting. The husband smoked his pipe on the
opposite bench, and the little pet negro girl, seated on the step at
her mistress' feet, was industriously plying her needle. The swallows
sported about the eaves, or skimmed along the streets, and brought
back some rich booty for their clamorous young; and the little
housekeeping wren flew in and out of a Lilliputian house, or an old
hat nailed against the wall. The cows were coming home, lowing through
the streets, to be milked at their owner's door; and if, perchance,
there were any loiterers, some negro urchin, with a long goad, was
gently urging them homewards.
As Dolph's companion passed on, he received a tranquil nod from the
burghers, and a friendly word from their wives; all calling him
familiarly by the name of Antony; for it was the custom in this
strong-hold of the patriarchs, where they had all grown up together
from childhood, to call every one by the Christian name. The Heer did
not pause to have his usual jokes with them, for he was impatient to
reach his home. At length they arrived at his mansion. It was of some
magnitude, in the Dutch style, with large iron figures on the gables,
that gave the date of its erection, and showed that it had been built
in the earliest times of the settlement.
The news of Heer Antony's arrival had preceded him; and the whole
household was on the look-out. A crew of negroes, large and small, had
collected in front of the house to receive him. The old, white-headed
ones, who had grown gray in his service, grinned for joy and made many
awkward bows and grimaces, and the little ones capered about his
knees. But the most happy being in the household was a little, plump,
blooming lass, his only child, and the darling of his heart. She came
bounding out of the house; but the sight of a strange young man with
her father called up, for a moment, all the bashfulness of a homebred
damsel. Dolph gazed at her with wonder and delight; never had he seen,
as he thought, any thing so comely in the shape of woman. She was
dressed in the good old Dutch taste, with long stays, and full, short
petticoats, so admirably adapted to show and set off the female form.
Her hair, turned up under a small round cap, displayed the fairness of
her forehead; she had fine, blue, laughing eyes, a trim, slender
waist, and soft swell--but, in a word, she was a little Dutch
divinity; and Dolph, who never stopt half-way in a new impulse, fell
desperately in love with her.
Dolph was now ushered into the house with a hearty welcome. In the
interior was a mingled display of Heer Antony's taste and habits, and
of the opulence of his predecessors. The chambers were furnished with
good old mahogany; the beau-fets and cupboards glittered with embossed
silver, and painted china. Over the parlour fire-place was, as usual,
the family coat-of-arms, painted and framed; above which was a long
duck fowling-piece, flanked by an Indian pouch, and a powder horn. The
room was decorated with many Indian articles, such as pipes of peace,
tomahawks, scalping-knives, hunting pouches, and belts of wampum; and
there were various kinds of fishing tackle, and two or three
fowling-pieces in the corners. The household affairs seemed to be
conducted, in some measure, after the master's humours; corrected,
perhaps, by a little quiet management of the daughter's. There was a
degree of patriarchal simplicity, and good-humoured indulgence. The
negroes came into the room without being called, merely to look at
their master, and hear of his adventures; they would stand listening
at the door until he had finished a story, and then go off on a broad
grin, to repeat it in the kitchen. A couple of pet negro children were
playing about the floor with the dogs, and sharing with them their
bread and butter. All the domestics looked hearty and happy; and when
the table was set for the evening repast, the variety and abundance of
good household luxuries bore testimony to the openhanded liberality of
the Heer, and the notable housewifery of his daughter.
In the evening there dropped in several of the worthies of the place,
the Van Rennsellaers, and the Gansevoorts, and the Rosebooms, and
others of Antony Vander Heyden's intimates, to hear an account of his
expedition; for he was the Sindbad of Albany, and his exploits and
adventures were favourite topics of conversation among the
inhabitants. While these sat gossiping together about the door of the
hall, and telling long twilight stories, Dolph was cozily seated,
entertaining the daughter on a window-bench. He had already got on
intimate terms; for those were not times of false reserve and idle
ceremony; and, besides, there is something wonderfully propitious to a
lover's suit, in the delightful dusk of a long summer evening; it
gives courage to the most timid tongue, and hides the blushes of the
bashful. The stars alone twinkled brightly; and now and then a
fire-fly streamed his transient light before the window, or, wandering
into the room, flew gleaming about the ceiling.
What Dolph whispered in her ear, that long summer evening, it is
impossible to say: his words were so low and indistinct, that they
never reached the ear of the historian. It is probable, however, that
they were to the purpose; for he had a natural talent at pleasing the
sex, and was never long in company with a petticoat without paying
proper court to it. In the meantime, the visitors, one by one,
departed; Antony Vander Heyden, who had fairly talked himself silent,
sat nodding alone in his chair by the door, when he was suddenly
aroused by a hearty salute with which Dolph Heyliger had unguardedly
rounded off one of his periods, and which echoed through the still
chamber like the report of a pistol. The Heer started up, rubbed his
eyes, called for lights, and observed, that it was high time to go to
bed; though, on parting for the night, he squeezed Dolph heartily by
the hand, looked kindly in his face, and shook his head knowingly; for
the Heer well remembered what he himself had been at the youngster's
age.
The chamber in which our hero was lodged was spacious, and panelled
with oak. It was furnished with clothes-presses, and mighty chests of
drawers, well waxed, and glittering with brass ornaments. These
contained ample stock of family linen; for the Dutch housewives had
always a laudable pride in showing off their household treasures to
strangers.
Dolph's mind, however, was too full to take particular note of the
objects around him; yet he could not help continually comparing the
free, open-hearted cheeriness of this establishment with the
starveling, sordid, joyless housekeeping at Doctor Knipperhausen's.
Still there was something that marred the enjoyment--the idea that he
must take leave of his hearty host and pretty hostess and cast himself
once more adrift upon the world. To linger here would be folly; he
should only get deeper in love; and for a poor varlet like himself to
aspire to the daughter of the great Heer Vander Heyden--it was madness
to think of such a thing! The very kindness that the girl had shown
towards him prompted him, on reflection, to hasten his departure; it
would be a poor return for the frank hospitality of his host to
entangle his daughter's heart in an injudicious attachment. In a word,
Dolph was like many other young reasoners, of exceeding good hearts
and giddy heads, who think after they act, and act differently from
what they think; who make excellent determinations overnight and
forget to keep them the next morning.
"This is a fine conclusion, truly, of my voyage," said he, as he
almost buried himself in a sumptuous feather-bed, and drew the fresh
white sheets up to his chin. "Here am I, instead of finding a bag of
money to carry home, launched in a strange place, with scarcely a
stiver in my pocket; and, what is worse, have jumped ashore up to my
very ears in love into the bargain. However," added he, after some
pause, stretching himself and turning himself in bed, "I'm in good
quarters for the present, at least; so I'll e'en enjoy the present
moment, and let the next take care of itself; I dare say all will work
out, 'some hew or other,' for the best."
As he said these words, he reached out his hand to extinguish the
candle, when he was suddenly struck with astonishment and dismay, for
he thought he beheld the phantom of the haunted house staring on him
from a dusky part of the chamber. A second look reassured him, as he
perceived that what he had taken for the spectre was, in fact, nothing
but a Flemish portrait, that hung in a shadowy corner just behind a
clothes-press. It was, however, the precise representation of his
nightly visitor:--the same cloak and belted jerkin, the same grizzled
beard and fixed eye, the same broad slouched hat, with a feather
hanging over one side. Dolph now called to mind the resemblance he had
frequently remarked between his host and the old man of the haunted
house; and was fully convinced that they were in some way connected,
and that some especial destiny had governed his voyage. He lay gazing
on the portrait with almost as much awe as he had gazed on the ghostly
original, until the shrill house-clock warned him of the lateness of
the hour. He put out the light; but remained for a long time turning
over these curious circumstances and coincidences in his mind, until
he fell asleep. His dreams partook of the nature of his waking
thoughts. He fancied that he still lay gazing on the picture, until,
by degrees, it became animated; that the figure descended from the
wall and walked out of the room; that he followed it and found himself
by the well, to which the old man pointed, smiled on him, and
disappeared.
In the morning when Dolph waked, he found his host standing by his
bed-side, who gave him a hearty morning's salutation, and asked him
how he had slept. Dolph answered cheerily; but took occasion to
inquire about the portrait that hung against the wall. "Ah," said Heer
Antony, "that's a portrait of old Killian Vander Spiegel, once a
burgomaster of Amsterdam, who, on some popular troubles, abandoned
Holland and came over to the province during the government of Peter
Stuyvesant. He was my ancestor by the mother's side, and an old
miserly curmudgeon he was. When the English took possession of
New-Amsterdam in 1664, he retired into the country. He fell into a
melancholy, apprehending that his wealth would be taken from him and
that he would come to beggary. He turned all his property into cash,
and used to hide it away. He was for a year or two concealed in
various places, fancying himself sought after by the English, to strip
him of his wealth; and finally was found dead in his bed one morning,
without any one being able to discover where he had concealed the
greater part of his money."
When his host had left the room, Dolph remained for some time lost in
thought. His whole mind was occupied by what he had heard. Vander
Spiegel was his mother's family name; and he recollected to have heard
her speak of this very Killian Vander Spiegel as one of her ancestors.
He had heard her say, too, that her father was Kollian's rightful
heir, only that the old man died without leaving any thing to be
inherited. It now appeared that Heer Antony was likewise a descendant,
and perhaps an heir also, of this poor rich man; and that thus the
Heyligers and the Vander Heydens were remotely connected. "What,"
thought he, "if, after all, this is the interpretation of my dream,
that this is the way I am to make my fortune by this voyage to Albany,
and that I am to find the old man's hidden wealth in the bottom of
that well? But what an odd, round-about mode of communicating the
matter! Why the plague could not the old goblin have told me about the
well at once, without sending me all the way to Albany to hear a story
that was to send me all the way back again?"
These thoughts passed through his mind while he was dressing. He
descended the stairs, full of perplexity, when the bright face of
Marie Vander Heyden suddenly beamed in smiles upon him, and seemed to
give him a clue to the whole mystery. "After all," thought he, "the
old goblin is in the right. If I am to get his wealth, he means that I
shall marry his pretty descendant; thus both branches of the family
will be again united, and the property go on in the proper channel."
No sooner did this idea enter his head, than it carried conviction
with it. He was now all impatience to hurry back and secure the
treasure, which, he did not doubt, lay at the bottom of the well, and
which he feared every moment might be discovered by some other person.
"Who knows," thought he, "but this night-walking old fellow of the
haunted house may be in the habit of haunting every visitor, and may
give a hint to some shrewder fellow than myself, who will take a
shorter cut to the well than by the way of Albany?" He wished a
thousand times that the babbling old ghost was laid in the Red Sea,
and his rambling portrait with him. He was in a perfect fever to
depart. Two or three days elapsed before any opportunity presented for
returning down the river. They were ages to Dolph, notwithstanding
that he was basking in the smiles of the pretty Marie, and daily
getting more and more enamoured.
At length the very sloop from which he had been knocked overboard,
prepared to make sail. Dolph made an awkward apology to his host for
his sudden departure. Antony Vander Heyden was sorely astonished. He
had concerted half-a-dozen excursions into the wilderness; and his
Indians were actually preparing for a grand expedition to one of the
lakes. He took Dolph aside, and exerted his eloquence to get him to
abandon all thoughts of business, and to remain with him--but in vain;
and he at length gave up the attempt, observing, "that it was a
thousand pities so fine a young man should throw himself away." Heer
Antony, however, gave him a hearty shake by the hand at parting, with
a favourite fowling-piece, and an invitation to come to his house
whenever he revisited Albany. The pretty little Marie said nothing;
but as he gave her a farewell kiss, her dimpled cheek turned pale, and
a tear stood in her eye.
Dolph sprang lightly on board of the vessel. They hoisted sail; the
wind was fair; they soon lost sight of Albany, and its green hills,
and embowered islands. They were wafted gayly past the Kaatskill
mountains, whose fairy heights were bright and cloudless. They passed
prosperously through the highlands, without any molestation from the
Dunderberg goblin and his crew; they swept on across Haverstraw Bay,
and by Croton Point, and through the Tappaan Zee, and under the
Palisadoes, until, in the afternoon of the third day, they saw the
promontory of Hoboken, hanging like a cloud in the air; and, shortly
after, the roofs of the Manhattoes rising out of the water.
Dolph's first care was to repair to his mother's house; for he was
continually goaded by the idea of the uneasiness she must experience
on his account. He was puzzling his brains, as he went along, to think
how he should account for his absence, without betraying the secrets
of the haunted house. In the midst of these cogitations, he entered
the street in which his mother's house was situated, when he was
thunderstruck at beholding it a heap of ruins.
There had evidently been a great fire, which had destroyed several
large houses, and the humble dwelling of poor Dame Heyliger had been
involved in the conflagration. The walls were not so completely
destroyed but that Dolph could distinguish some traces of the scene of
his childhood. The fire-place, about which he had often played, still
remained, ornamented with Dutch tiles, illustrating passages in Bible
history, on which he had many a time gazed with admiration. Among the
rubbish lay the wreck of the good dame's elbow-chair, from which she
had given him so many a wholesome precept; and hard by it was the
family Bible, with brass clasps; now, alas! reduced almost to a
cinder.
For a moment Dolph was overcome by this dismal sight, for he was
seized with the fear that his mother had perished in the flames. He
was relieved, however, from this horrible apprehension, by one of the
neighbours who happened to come by, and who informed him that his
mother was yet alive.
The good woman had, indeed, lost every thing by this unlooked-for
calamity; for the populace had been so intent upon saving the fine
furniture of her rich neighbours, that the little tenement, and the
little all of poor Dame Heyliger, had been suffered to consume without
interruption; nay, had it not been for the gallant assistance of her
old crony, Peter de Groodt, the worthy dame and her cat might have
shared the fate of their habitation.
As it was, she had been overcome with fright and affliction, and lay
ill in body, and sick at heart. The public, however, had showed her
its wonted kindness. The furniture of her rich neighbours being, as
far as possible, rescued from the flames; themselves duly and
ceremoniously visited and condoled with on the injury of their
property, and their ladies commiserated on the agitation of their
nerves; the public, at length, began to recollect something about poor
Dame Heyliger. She forthwith became again a subject of universal
sympathy; every body pitied more than ever; and if pity could but have
been coined into cash--good Lord! how rich she would have been!