University of Virginia Library

BOOK II.

1. CHAP. I.

In the ever memorable year of our Lord 1609,
on the five and twentieth day of March (O. S.)—a
fine Saturday morning, when jocund Phœbus, having
his face newly washed, by gentle dews and
spring time showers, looked from the glorious windows
of the east, with a more than usually shining
countenance—“that worthy and irrecoverable discoverer,
Master Henry Hudson” set sail from Holland
in a stout vessel,[1] called the Half Moon, being
employed by the Dutch East India Company, to
seek a north-west passage to China.

Of this celebrated voyage we have a narration
still extant, written with true log-book brevity, by
master Robert Juet of Lime house, mate of the vessel;
who was appointed historian of the voyage,
partly on account of his uncommon literary talents,
but chiefly, as I am credibly informed, because he
was a countryman and schoolfellow of the great
Hudson, with whom he had often played truant and
sailed chip boats, when he was a little boy. I am
enabled however to supply the deficiencies of master
Juet's journal, by certain documents furnished
me by very respectable Dutch families, as likewise
by sundry 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 in 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.—Oh! that I had the advantages of that
most authentic writer of yore, Apollonius Rhodius,
who in his account of the famous Argonautic expedition,
has the whole mythology at his disposal,
and elevates Jason and his compeers into heroes
and demigods; though all the world knows them
to have been a meer gang of sheep stealers, on a
marauding expedition—or that I had the privileges
of Dan Homer and Dan Virgil to enliven my narration,
with giants and Lystrigonians, to entertain

our honest mariners with an occasional concert of
syrens and mermaids, and now and then with the
rare shew of honest old Neptune and his fleet of
frolicksome cruisers. But alas! the good old times
have long gone by, when your waggish deities
would descend upon the terraqueous globe, in
their own proper persons, and play their pranks,
upon its wondering inhabitants. Neptune has proclaimed
an embargo in his dominions, and the
sturdy tritons, like disbanded sailors, are out of employ,
unless old Charon has charitably taken them
into his service, to sound their conchs, and ply as
his ferry-men. Certain it is, no mention has been
made of them by any of our modern navigators,
who are not behind their ancient predecessors in
tampering with the marvellous—nor has any notice
been taken of them, in that most minute and authentic
chronicle of the seas, the New York Gazette
edited by Solomon Lang. Even Castor and Pollux,
those flaming meteors that blaze at the masthead
of tempest tost vessels, are rarely beheld in
these degenerate days—and it is but now and then,
that our worthy sea captains fall in with that portentous
phantom of the seas, that terror to all experienced
mariners, that shadowy spectrum of the
night—the flying Dutchman!

Suffice it then 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 sour crout, and
every man was allowed to sleep quietly at his post,
unless the wind blew. True it is, some slight dissatisfaction
was shewn 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 eat 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.

True it is—and I am not ignorant of the fact,
that in a certain aprocryphal book of voyages, compiled
by one Hacluyt, is to be found a letter written
to Francis the First, by one Giovanne, or John
Verazzani, on which some writers are inclined to
found a belief that this delightful bay had been
visited nearly a century previous to the voyage of
the enterprizing Hudson. Now this (albeit it has
met with the countenance of certain very judicious
and learned men) I hold in utter disbelief, and
that for various good and substantial reasons—
First, Because on strict examination it will be
found, that the description given by this Verazzani,
applies about as well to the bay of New York, as
it does to my night cap—Secondly, Because that
this John Verazzani, for whom I already begin to
feel a most bitter enmity, is a native of Florence;
and every body knows the crafty wiles of these
losel Florentines, by which they filched away the
laurels, from the arms of the immortal Colon, (vulgarly
called Columbus) and bestowed them on

their officious townsman, Amerigo Vespucci—and I
make no doubt they are equally ready to rob the
illustrious Hudson, of the credit of discovering this
beauteous island, adorned by the city of New York,
and placing it beside their usurped discovery of
South America. And thirdly, I award my decision
in favour of the pretensions of Hendrick Hudson,
inasmuch as his expedition sailed from Holland,
being truly and absolutely a Dutch enterprize—and
though all the proofs in the world were introduced
on the other side, I would set them at naught as
undeserving my attention. If these three reasons
are not sufficient to satisfy every burgher of this
ancient city—all I can say is, they are degenerate
descendants from their venerable Dutch ancestors,
and totally unworthy the trouble of convincing.
Thus, therefore, the title of Hendrick Hudson, to
his renowned discovery is fully vindicated.

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 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 Manna-hata, 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 burthen 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
briar, 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 red man
crowned with feathers, issued from one of these

glens, and after contemplating in silent 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 eat 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 smoke their pipes and refresh themselves
after their sea-faring, our voyagers weighed
anchor, and adventurously ascended 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,[2] and master Richard
Bloome, who wrote some time afterwards, asserts
the same—so that I very much incline in favour of
the opinion of these two honest gentlemen. Be
this as it may, the river is at present denominated
the Hudson; and up this stream the shrewd Hen

drick had very little doubt he should discover the
much looked for passage to China!

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 them over 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 acqua 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 aboarde of our
ship all the time that we had beene there, and that
was strange to them, for they could not tell how to
take it.”[3]

Having satisfied himself by this profound 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 an 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 of our modern Argonauts 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 dispatched 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 sat out and took a fresh
start; he forthwith re-crossed the sea to Holland,
where he was received with great welcome by the

honourable 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 eminent services he had
performed, and 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.

2. CHAP. II.

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, at present the superb and hospitable city
of Albany. But I forbear to dwell on the various
commercial and colonizing enterprizes 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,
well meaning, copper headed, 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 spruce super-cargoes, that an
expedition so interesting and important in its results,
should have been 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 every
body (except her husband) to be a singularly sweet
tempered lady, when not in liquor. It was in
truth a gallant vessel, of the most approved 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 keel, one hundred feet in the beam, and one
hundred feet from the bottom of the stern post, to
the tafforel. Like the beauteous model, who was

declared the greatest belle in Amsterdam, it was
full in the bows, with a pair of enormous cat-heads,
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 shipwrack 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
bow-sprit. Thus gallantly furnished, the staunch
ship floated sideways, like a majestic goose, out of
the harbour of the great city of Amsterdam, and all
the bells, that were not otherwise engaged, rung 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 lee-way as head-way, could get along very
nearly as fast with the wind a-head, 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.[4]

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 dispatched 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, 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 Rattle-snake-hill, which rises out of
the centre of the salt marshes, a little to the east of
the Newark Causeway.

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—having nobody to withstand
them, but some half a score of old squaws, and
poppooses, whom they tortured to death with low
dutch. On looking about them they were so
transported with the excellencies 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
favourable to the building of docks—in a word, this
spot abounded with all the singular inconveniences,
and aquatic obstacles, necessary 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 perfectly acquainted with
Communipaw, it may seem somewhat superfluous
to treat of it in the present work; but my readers
will please to recollect, that notwithstanding it is

my chief desire to improve 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,[5] and even its situation a
fertile subject of learned controversy and hardheaded
investigation among indefatigable historians.
Let me then piously rescue from oblivion, the
humble reliques 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,
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 neighbourhood of this city, that
they always laugh loudest—which he attributes to
the circumstance of their having their holliday
clothes on.

These negroes, in fact, like the monks in 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 almanack—they
are moreover exquisite performers
on three stringed fiddles: in whistling they almost
boast the farfamed powers of Orpheus his lyre,
for not a horse or an ox in the place, when at the
plow or in the waggon, 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.

As to the honest dutch 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
neighbourhood; 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 Von
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 strong holds 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 such 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 school-master in his
dialect, that his reading of a low dutch psalm, has
much the same effect on the nerves, as the filing of
a hand saw.

3. CHAP. III.

Having, in the trifling digression with which I
concluded my last chapter, discharged the filial duty,
which the city of New York owes 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, encreasing in magnitude and prosperity.
The neighbouring 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 new comers. 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 myn-her—whereat the poor savages were
wonderously 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 learned them the art
of making bargains.

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 avoirdupoise, that the hand
of a dutchman weighed one pound, and his foot
two pounds. It is true, the simple Indians were
often puzzled at 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, no doubt, of their
great resemblance to the Dutch Netherlands—excepting

that the former were rugged and mountainous,
and the latter level and marshy. About
this time the tranquility 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.

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 vapour.
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 that often
hangs over Communipaw of a clear afternoon.

Upon the departure of the enemy, our magnanimous
ancestors took full six months to recover
their wind, having been exceedingly discomposed
by the consternation and hurry of affairs. They
then called a council of safety to smoke over the
state of the province. After six months more of
mature deliberation, during which nearly five hundred
words were spoken, and almost as much tobacco
was smoked, as would have served a certain
modern general through a whole winter's campaign
of hard drinking, it was determined, to fit out an
armament of canoes, and dispatch them on a voyage
of discovery; to search if peradventure some more
sure and formidable position might not be found,
where the colony would be less subject to vexatious
visitations.

This perilous enterprize was entrusted to the
superintendance of Mynheers Oloffe Van Kortlandt,
Abraham Hardenbroek, Jacobus Van Zandt
and Weinant Ten Broek—four indubitably great
men, but of whose history, though I have made diligent
enquiry, I can learn but little, previous to
their leaving Holland. Nor need this occasion
much surprize; 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 venial trespass on the truth, though
it has occasionally been played off by some pseudo
marquis, baronet, and other illustrious foreigner,
in our land of good natured credulity, has been
completely discountenanced in this sceptical, 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 parlour fire-sides and evening tea-parties, by ascribing
the phenomenon to a swan, a shower of gold
or a river god.

Thus being totally denied the benefit of mythology
and classic fable, I should have been completely
at a loss as to the early biography of my heroes,
had not a gleam of light been thrown upon their
origin from their names.

By this simple means have I been enabled to
gather some particulars, concerning the adventurers
in question. Van Kortlandt for instance, was one of
those peripatetic philosophers, who tax providence
for a livelihood, and like Diogenes, enjoy a free

and unincumbered estate in sunshine. He was
usually arrayed in garments suitable to his fortune,
being curiously fringed and fangled by the hand of
time; and was helmeted with an old fragment
of a hat which had acquired the shape of a sugarloaf;
and so far did he carry his contempt for the
adventitious distinction of dress, that it is said,
the remnant of a shirt, which covered his back,
and dangled like a pocket handkerchief out of a
hole in his breeches, was never washed, except by
the bountiful showers of heaven. In this garb was
he usually to be seen, sunning himself at noon day,
with a herd of philosophers of the same sect, on
the side of the great canal of Amsterdam. Like
your nobility of Europe, he took his name of Kortlandt
(or lack land) from his landed estate, which
lay some where in Terra incognita.

Of the next of our worthies, might I have had
the benefit of mythological assistance, the want of
which I have just lamented—I should have made
honourable mention, as boasting equally illustrious
pedigree, with the proudest hero of antiquity.
His name was Van Zandt, which freely translated,
signifies from the dirt, meaning, beyond a doubt,
that like Triptolemus, Themis—the Cyclops and
the Titans, he sprung from dame Terra or 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 dung-hill!

Of the third hero, but a faint description has
reached to this time, which mentions, that he was
a sturdy, obstinate, burley, bustling little man; and
from being usually equipped with an old pair of
buck-skins, was familiarly dubbed Harden broek,
or Tough Breeches.

Ten Broek 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
my history, that this worthy gentleman should
likewise have been nicknamed from the most
whimsical part of his dress. In fact the small
clothes seems to have been a very important
garment in the eyes of our venerated ancestors,
owing in all probability to its really being the
largest article of raiment among them. The name
of Ten Broek, or Tin Broek is indifferently translated
into Ten Breeches and Tin Breeches—the
high dutch commentators incline to the former
opinion; and ascribe it to his being the first who

introduced into the settlement the ancient dutch fashion
of wearing ten pair of breeches. But the
most elegant and ingenious writers on the subject,
declare in favour of Tin, or rather Thin Breeches;
from whence they infer, that he was a poor, but
merry rogue, whose galligaskins were none of the
soundest, and who was the identical author of that
truly philosophical stanza:

Such was the gallant junto that fearlessly set
sail at the head of a mighty armament of canoes, to
explore the yet unknown country about the mouth
of the Hudson—and heaven seemed to shine propitious
on their undertaking.

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 hunks of a 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 morning
dew, that gemmed the tender grass of the meadows,
lifted up their little voices to join the joyous epithalamium—the
virgin bud timidly put forth its

blushes, and the heart of man dissolved away in
tenderness. Oh sweet Theocritus! had I thy
oaten reed, wherewith thou erst didst charm the
gay Sicilian plains; or oh gentle Bion! thy pastoral
pipe, in which the happy swains of the Lesbian
isle so much delighted; then would I attempt
to sing, in soft Bucolic or negligent Idyllium, the
rural beauties of the scene—But having nothing but
this jaded goose quill, wherewith to wing my flight,
I must fain content myself to lay aside these poetic
disportings of the fancy and pursue my faithful narrative
in humble prose—comforting myself with the
reflection, that though it may not commend itself
so sweetly to the imagination of my reader, yet
will it insinuate itself with virgin modesty, to his
better judgment, clothed as it is in the chaste and
simple garb of truth.

In the joyous season of spring then, did these
hardy adventurers depart on this eventful expedition,
which only wanted another Virgil to rehearse
it, to equal the oft sung story of the Eneid—Many
adventures did they meet with and divers bitter
mishaps did they sustain, in their wanderings from
Communipaw to oyster Island—from oyster Island
to gibbet island, from gibbet island to governors
island, and from governors island through buttermilk
channel, (a second streights of Pylorus) to
the Lord knows where; until they came very nigh
being ship wrecked and lost forever, in the tremen

dous vortexes of Hell gate,[6] which for terrors,
and frightful perils, might laugh old Scylla and
Charybdis to utter scorn—In all which cruize they
encountered as many Lystrigonians and Cyclops
and Syrens and unhappy Didos, as did ever the
pious Eneas, in his colonizing voyage.

At length, after wandering to and fro, they
were attracted by the transcendant charms of a vast
island, which lay like a gorgeous stomacher, dividing
the beauteous bosom of the bay, and to which
the numerous mighty islands among which they
had been wandering, seemed as so many foils and
appendages. Hither they bent their course, and
old Neptune, as if anxious to assist in the choice of
a spot, whereon was to be founded a city that
should serve as his strong hold in this western
world, sent half a dozen potent billows, that rolled
the canoes of our voyagers, high and dry on the

very point of the island, where at present stands the
delectable city of New York.

The original name of this beautiful island is in
some dispute, and has already undergone a vitiation,
which is a proof of the melancholy instability of
sublunary things, and of the industrious perversions
of modern orthographers. The name which is
most current among the vulgar (such as members
of assembly and bank directors) is Manhattan—
which is said to have originated from a custom
among the squaws, in the early settlement, of wearing
men's wool hats, as is still done among many
tribes. “Hence,” we are told by an old governor,
somewhat of a wag, who flourished almost a century
since, and had paid a visit to the wits of Philadelphia—“Hence
arose the appellation of Manhat-on,
first given to the Indians, and afterwards
to the island”—a stupid joke!—but well enough for
a governor.

Among the more ancient authorities which deserve
very serious consideration, is that contained in
the valuable history of the American possessions,
written by master Richard Blome in 1687, wherein
it is called Manhadaes, or Manahanent; nor
must I forget the excellent little book of that authentic
historian, John Josselyn, Gent. who explicitly
calls it Manadaes.

But an authority still more ancient, and still
more deserving of credit, because it is sanctioned

by the countenance of our venerated dutch ancestors,
is that founded on certain letters still extant,
which passed between the early governors,
and their neighbour powers; wherein it is variously
called the Monhattoes, Munhatos and Manhattoes—an
unimportant variation, occasioned by the
literati of those days having a great contempt for
those spelling book and dictionary researches, which
form the sole study and ambition of so many learned
men and women of the present times. This
name is said to be derived from the great Indian
spirit Manetho, who was supposed to have made
this island his favourite residence, on account of
its uncommon delights. But the most venerable
and indisputable authority extant, and one on which
I place implicit confidence, because it confers a
name at once melodious, poetical and significant, is
that furnished by the before quoted journal of the
voyage of the great Hudson, by Master Juet; who
clearly and correctly calls it Manna-hata—that is
to say, the island of Manna; or in other words—
“a land flowing with milk and honey!”

4. CHAP. IV.

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 grand-father,
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 labour, 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 any body'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 the presence
of the whole multitude—just at the commencement
of the thirteenth month.

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, (whose intellects have been thrice stimulated
and quickened, by transcendant nitrous oxyde, as
were those of Chrysippus, with hellebore,) 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
transcendant capital at Washington, it was began on
such a grand scale, the good folks could not afford
to finish more than the wing of it.

In the same manner do I prognosticate, if ever
I am enabled to finish this history, (of which in

simple truth, I often have my doubts,) that it will
be handed down to posterity, the most complete,
faithful, and critically constructed work that ever
was read—the delight of the learned, the ornament
of libraries, and a model for all future historians.
There is nothing that gives such an expansion of
mind, as the idea of writing for posterity—And
had Ovid, Herodotus, Polybius or Tacitus, like Moses
from the top of Mount Pisgah, taken a view of
the boundless region over which their offspring
were destined to wander—like the good old Israelite,
they would have lain down and died contented.

I hear some of my captious readers questioning
the correctness of my arrangement—but I have no
patience with these continual interruptions—never
was historian so pestered with doubts and queries,
and such a herd of discontented quid-nunes! if
they continue to worry me in this manner, I shall
never get to the end of my work. I call Apollo
and his whole seraglio of muses to witness, that I
pursue the most approved and fashionable plan of
modern historians; and if my readers are not
pleased with my matter, and my manner, for God's
sake let them throw down my work, take up a pen
and write a history to suit themselves—for my part
I am weary of their incessant interruptions, and beg
once for all, that I may have no more of them.

The island of Manna-hata, Manhattoes, or as it
is vulgarly called Manhattan, having been discovered,

as was related in the last chapter; and being
unanimously pronounced by the discoverers, the
fairest spot in the known world, whereon to build a
city, that should surpass all the emporiums of Europe,
they immediately returned to Communipaw
with the pleasing intelligence. Upon this a considerable
colony was forthwith fitted out, who after a
prosperous voyage of half an hour, arrived at Manna
hata, and having previously purchased the land of
the Indians, (a measure almost unparalleled in the
annals of discovery and colonization) they settled
upon the south-west point of the island, and
fortified themselves strongly, by throwing up a mud
battery, which they named Fort Amsterdam.
A number of huts soon sprung up in the neighbourhood,
to protect which, they made an enclosure of
strong pallisadoes. A creek running from the
East river, through what at present is called Whitehall
street, and a little inlet from Hudson river to
the bowling green formed the original boundarles;
as though nature had kindly designated the cradle,
in which the embryo of this renowned city was to
be nestled. The woods on both sides of the creek
were carefully cleared away, as well as from the
space of ground now occupied by the bowling green.
—These precautions were taken to protect the fort
from either the open attacks or insidious advances
of its savage neighbours, who wandered in hordes
about the forests and swamps that extended over
those tracts of country, at present called broad way,
Wall street, William street and Pearl street.

No sooner was the colony once planted, than
like a luxuriant vine, it took root and throve amazingly;
for it would seem, that this thrice favoured
island is like a munificent dung hill, where every
thing finds kindly nourishment, and soon shoots up
and expands to greatness. The thriving state of the
settlement, and the astonishing encrease of houses,
gradually awakened the leaders from a profound
lethargy, into which they had fallen, after having
built their mud fort. They began to think it was
high time some plan should be devised, on which
the encreasing town should be built; so taking pipe
in mouth, and meeting in close divan, they forthwith
fell into a profound deliberation on the subject.

At the very outset of the business, an unexpected
difference of opinion arose, and I mention
it with regret, as being the first internal altercation
on record among the new settlers. An ingenious
plan was proposed by Mynheer Ten Broek to cut
up and intersect the ground by means of canals;
after the manner of the most admired cities in Holland;
but to this Mynheer Hardenbroek was diametrically
opposed; suggesting in place thereof,
that they should run out docks and wharves, by
means of piles driven into the bottom of the river,
on which the town should be built—By this means

said he triumphantly, shall we rescue a considerable
space of territory from these immense rivers,
and build a city that shall rival Amsterdam, Venice,
or any amphibious city in Europe. To this proposition,
Ten Broek (or Ten breeches) replied, with
a look of as much scorn as he could possibly assume.
He cast the utmost censure upon the plan
of his antagonist, as being preposterous, and against
the very order of things, as he would leave to every
true hollander. “For what;” said he, “is a town
without canals?—it is like a body without veins
and arteries, and must perish for want of a free
circulation of the vital fluid”—Tough breeches, on
the contrary, retorted with a sarcasm upon his antagonist,
who was somewhat of an arid, dry boned
habit of body; he remarked that as to the circulation
of the blood being necessary to existence,
Mynheer Ten breeches was a living contradiction
to his own assertion; for every body knew there
had not a drop of blood circulated through his
wind dried carcass for good ten years, and yet
there was not a greater busy body in the whole
colony. Personalities have seldom much effect in
making converts in argument—nor have I ever
seen a man convinced of error, by being convicted
of deformity. At least such was not the case at
present. Ten Breeches was very acrimonious in
reply, and Tough Breeches, who was a sturdy little
man, and never gave up the last word, rejoined
with encreasing spirit—Ten Breeches had the advantage
of the greatest volubility, but Tough Breeches
had that invaluable coat of mail in argument called
obstinacy—Ten Breeches had, therefore, the most
mettle, but Tough Breeches the best bottom—so
that though Ten Breeches made a dreadful clattering
about his ears, and battered and belaboured
him with hard words and sound arguments, yet
Tough Breeches hung on most resolutely to the
last. They parted therefore, as is usual in all arguments
where both parties are in the right, without
coming to any conclusion—but they hated
each other most heartily forever after, and a similar
breach with that between the houses of Capulet and
Montague, had well nigh ensued between the families
of Ten Breeches and Tough Breeches.

I would not fatigue my reader with these dull
matters of fact, but that my duty as a faithful historian,
requires that I should be particular—and in
truth, as I am now treating of the critical period,
when our city, like a young twig, first received the
twists and turns, that have since contributed to give
it the present picturesque irregularity for which it
is celebrated, I cannot be too minute in detailing
their first causes.

After the unhappy altercation I have just mentioned,
I do not find that any thing further was
said on the subject, worthy of being recorded. The
council, consisting of the largest and oldest heads

in the community, met regularly once a week, to
ponder on this momentous subject.—But either
they were deterred by the war of words they had
witnessed, or they were naturally averse to the exercise
of the tongue, and the consequent exercise
of the brains—certain it is, the most profound silence
was maintained—the question as usual lay on
the table—the members quietly smoked their pipes,
making but few laws, without ever enforcing any,
and in the mean time the affairs of the settlement
went on—as it pleased God.

As most of the council were but little skilled in
the mystery of combining pot hooks and hangers,
they determined most judiciously not to puzzle
either themselves or posterity, with voluminous
records. The secretary however, kept the minutes
of each meeting with tolerable precision, in a large
vellum folio, fastened with massy brass clasps, with
a sight of which I have been politely favoured by
my highly respected friends, the Goelets, who have
this invaluable relique, at present in their possession.
On perusal, however, I do not find much information—The
journal of each meeting consists but of
two lines, stating in dutch, that, “the council sat this
day, and smoked twelve pipes, on the affairs of the
colony.”—By which it appears that the first settlers
did not regulate their time by hours, but pipes, in
the same manner as they measure distances in Holland
at this very time; an admirably exact measurement,

as a pipe in the mouth of a genuine
dutchman is never liable to those accidents and
irregularities, that are continually putting our clocks
out of order.

In this manner did the profound council of
New Amsterdam smoke, and doze, and ponder,
from week to week, month to month, and year to
year, in what manner they should construct their
infant settlement—mean while, the own took care
of itself, and like a sturdy brat which is suffered to
run about wild, unshackled by clouts and bandages,
and other abominations by which your notable nurses
and sage old women cripple and disfigure the
children of men, encreased so rapidly in strength
and magnitude, that before the honest burgomasters
had determined upon a plan, it was too late to
put it in execution—whereupon they wisely abandoned
the subject altogether.

5. CHAP V.

Grievous, and very much to be commiserated,
is the task of the feeling historian, who writes the
history of his native land. If it falls to his lot to
be the sad recorder of calamity or crime, the mournful
page is watered with his tears—nor can he recal
the most prosperous and blissful eras, without a
melancholy sigh at the reflection, that they have
passed away forever! I know not whether it be
owing to an immoderate love for the simplicity of
former times, or to a certain tenderness of heart,
natural to a sentimental historian; but I candidly
confess, I cannot look back on the halcyon days of
the city, which I now describe, without a deep dejection
of the spirits. With faultering hand I withdraw
the curtain of oblivion, which veils the modest
merits of our venerable dutch ancestors, and as
their revered figures rise to my mental vision, humble
myself before the mighty shades.

Such too are my feelings when I revisit the

family mansion of the Knickerbockers and spend a
lonely hour in the attic chamber, where hang the
portraits of my forefathers, shrowded in dust like
the forms they represent. With pious reverence
do I gaze on the countenances of those renowned
burghers, who have preceded me in the steady
march of existence—whose sober and temperate
blood now meanders through my veins, flowing
slower and slower in its feeble conduits, until its
lingering current shall soon be stopped forever!

These, say I to myself, are but frail memorials
of the mighty men, who flourished in the days of
the patriarchs; but who, alas, have long since
mouldered in that tomb, towards which my steps
are insensibly and irresistibly hastening! As I
pace the darkened chamber and lose myself in melancholy
musings, the shadowy images around me,
almost seem to steal once more into existence—
their countenances appear for an instant to assume
the animation of life—their eyes to pursue me in
every movement! carried away by the delusion of
fancy, I almost imagine myself surrounded by the
shades of the departed, and holding sweet converse
with the worthies of antiquity!—Luckless
Diedrich! born in a degenerate age—abandoned to
the buffettings of fortune—a stranger and a weary
pilgrim in thy native land; blest with no weeping
wife, nor family of helpless children—but doomed
to wander neglected through those crowded streets,

and elbowed by foreign upstarts from those fair
abodes, where once thine ancestors held sovereign
empire. Alas! alas! is then the dutch spirit forever
extinct? The days of the patriarchs, have they
fled forever? Return—return sweet days of simplicity
and ease—dawn once more on the lovely
island of Manna hata!—Bear with me my worthy
readers, bear with the weakness of my nature—or
rather let us sit down together, indulge the full flow
of filial piety, and weep over the memories of our
great great grand-fathers.

Having thus gratified those feelings irresistibly
awakened by the happy scenes I am describing, I
return with more composure to my history.

The town of New Amsterdam, being, as I before
mentioned, left to its own course and the fostering
care of providence, increased as rapidly in
importance, as though it had been burthened with a
dozen panniers full of those sage laws, which are
usually heaped upon the backs of young cities—in
order to make them grow. The only measure that
remains on record of the worthy council, was to
build a chapel within the fort, which they dedicated
to the great and good St. Nicholas, who immediately
took the infant town of New Amsterdam under
his peculiar patronage, and has ever since been,
and I devoutly hope will ever be, the tutelar saint
of this excellent city. I am moreover told, that
there is a little legendary book somewhere extant,

written in low dutch, which says that the image
of this renowned saint, which whilome graced the
bowsprit of the Goede Vrouw, was placed in front
of this chapel; and the legend further treats of
divers miracles wrought by the mighty pipe which
the saint held in his mouth; a whiff of which was
a sovereign cure for an indigestion, and consequently
of great importance in this colony of huge feeders.
But as, notwithstanding the most diligent search,
I cannot lay my hands upon this little book, I entertain
considerable doubt on the subject.

This much is certain, that from the time of the
building of this chapel, the town throve with tenfold
prosperity, and soon became the metropolis of
numerous settlements, and an extensive territory.
The province extended on the north, to Fort Aurania
or Orange, now known by the name of Albany,
situated about 160 miles up the Mohegan or Hudson
River. Indeed the province claimed quite to
the river St. Lawrence; but this claim was not
much insisted on at the time, as the country beyond
Fort Aurania was a perfect wilderness, reported to
be inhabited by cannibals, and termed Terra Incognita.
Various accounts were given of the people of
these unknown parts; by some they are described
as being of the race of the Acephali, such as Herodotus
describes, who have no heads, and carry their
eyes in their bellies. Others affirm they were of
that race whom father Charlevoix mentions, as hav

ing but one leg; adding gravely, that they were
exceedingly alert in running. But the most satisfactory
account is that given by the reverend Hans
Megapolensis, a missionary in these parts, who, in
a letter still extant, declares them to be the Mohagues
or Mohawks; a nation, according to his description,
very loose in their morals, but withal most
rare wags. “For,” says he, “if theye can get to bedd
with another mans wife, theye thinke it a piece of
wit.”[7] This excellent old gentleman gives moreover
very important additional information, about this
country of monsters; for he observes, “theye have
plenty of tortoises here, and within land, from two
and three to four feet long; some with two heads,
very mischievous and addicted to biting.”[8]

On the south the province reached to Fort Nassau,
on the South River, since called the Delaware—
and on the east it extended to Varshe (or Fresh)
River, since called Connecticut River. On this

frontier was likewise erected a mighty fort and
trading house, much about the spot where at present
is situated the pleasant town of Hartford; this port
was called Fort Goed Hoop, or Good Hope, and
was intended as well for the purpose of trade as defence;
but of this fort, its valiant garrison, and
staunch commander, I shall treat more anon, as they
are destined to make some noise in this eventful and
authentic history.

Thus prosperously did the province of New Nederlandts
encrease in magnitude; and the early history
of its metropolis, presents a fair page, unsullied
by crime or calamity. Herds of painted savages
still lurked about the tangled woods and the rich
bottoms of the fair island of Manna-hata—the hunter
still pitched his rude bower of skins and branches,
beside the wild brooks, that stole through the cool
and shady valleys; while here and there were seen
on some sunny knoll, a group of indian wigwams,
whose smoke rose above the neighbouring trees and
floated in the clear expanse of heaven. The uncivilized
tenants of the forest remained peaceable neighbours
of the town of New Amsterdam; and our
worthy ancestors endeavoured to ameliorate their
situation as much as possible, by benevolently giving
them gin, rum and glass beads, in exchange for all
the furs they brought; for it seems the kind hearted
dutchmen had conceived a great friendship for their
savage neighbours—on account of the facility with

which they suffered themselves to be taken in. Not
that they were deficient in understanding, for certain
of their customs give tokens of great shrewdness,
especially that mentioned by Ogilvie, who says,
“for the least offence the bridegroom soundly beats
the wife, and turns her out of doors and marries
another, insomuch that some of them have every
year a new wife.”

True it is, that good understanding between our
worthy ancestors and their savage neighbours, was
liable to occasional interruptions—and I recollect
hearing my grandmother, who was a very wise old
woman, well versed in the history of these parts,
tell a long story of a winter evening, about a battle
between the New Amsterdammers and the Indians,
which was known, but why, I do not recollect, by
the name of the Peach War, and which took place
near a peach orchard, in a dark and gloomy glen,
overshadowed by cedars, oaks and dreary hemlocks.
The legend of this bloody encounter, was for a long
time current among the nurses, old women, and
other ancient chroniclers of the place; and the dismal
seat of war, went, for some generations, by the
name of Murderers' Valley; but time and improvement
have equally obliterated the tradition and the
place of this battle, for what was once the bloodstained
valley, is now in the centre of this populous
city, and known by the name of Dey-street.[9]

For a long time the new settlement depended
upon the mother country for most of its supplies.
The vessels which sailed in search of a north west
passage, always touched at New Amsterdam, where
they unloaded fresh cargoes of adventurers, and
unheard of quantities of gin, bricks, tiles, glass
beads, gingerbread and other necessaries; in exchange
for which they received supplies of pork and
vegetables, and made very profitable bargains for
furs and bear skins. Never did the simple islanders
of the south seas, look with more impatience for the
adventurous vessels, that brought them rich ladings
of old hoops, spike nails and looking glasses, than did
our honest colonists, for the vessels that brought them
the comforts of the mother country. In this particular
they resembled their worthy but simple descendants,
who prefer depending upon Europe for necessaries,
which they might produce or manufacture at
less cost and trouble in their own country. Thus have
I known a very shrewd family, who being removed
to some distance from an inconvenient draw well,
beside which they had long sojourned, always preferred
to send to it for water, though a plentiful
brook ran by the very door of their new habitation.

How long the growing colony might have looked

to its parent Holland for supplies, like a chubby
overgrown urchin, clinging to its mother's breast,
even after it is breeched, I will not pretend to say,
for it does not become an historian to indulge in
conjectures—I can only assert the fact, that the inhabitants,
being obliged by repeated emergencies,
and frequent disappointments of foreign supplies, to
look about them and resort to contrivances, became
nearly as wise as people generally are, who are
taught wisdom by painful experience. They therefore
learned to avail themselves of such expedients
as presented—to make use of the bounties of nature,
where they could get nothing better—and thus became
prodigiously enlightened, under the scourge
of inexorable necessity; gradually opening one eye
at a time, like the Arabian impostor receiving the
bastinado.

Still however they advanced from one point of
knowledge to another with characteristic slowness
and circumspection, admitting but few improvements
and inventions, and those too, with a jealous
reluctance that has ever distinguished our respectable
dutch yeomanry; who adhere, with pious and
praiseworthy obstinacy, to the customs, the fashions,
the manufactures and even the very utensils, however
inconvenient, of their revered forefathers. It
was long after the period of which I am writing,
before they discoved the surprising secret, that it
was more economic and commodious, to roof their

houses with shingles procured from the adjacent
forests, than to import tiles for the purpose from
Holland; and so slow were they in believing that
the soil of a young country, could possibly make
creditable bricks; that even at a late period of the
last century, ship loads have been imported from
Holland, by certain of its most orthodox descendants.

The accumulating wealth and consequence of
New Amsterdam and its dependencies, at length
awakened the serious solicitude of the mother
country; who finding it a thriving and opulent colony,
and that it promised to yield great profit and
no trouble; all at once became wonderfully anxious
about its safety, and began to load it with tokens of
regard; in the same manner that people are sure
to oppress rich relations with their affection and
loving kindness, who could do much better without
their assistance.

The usual marks of protection shewn by mother
countries to wealthy colonies, were forthwith
evinced—the first care always being to send
rulers to the new settlement, with orders to squeeze
as much revenue from it as it will yield. Accordingly
in the year of our Lord 1629 mynheer
Wouter Van Twiller was appointed governor
of the province of Nieuw Nederlandts, under the
controul of their High Mightinesses the lords

states general of the United Netherlands, and the
privileged West India company.

This renowned old gentleman arrived at New
Amsterdam in the merry month of June, the
sweetest month in all the year; when Dan Apollo
seems to dance up the transparent firmament—when
the robin, the black-bird, the thrush and a thousand
other wanton songsters make the woods to resound
with amorous ditties, and the luxurious little Boblincon
revels among the clover blossoms of the meadows.—All
which happy coincidence, persuaded
the old ladies of New Amsterdam, who were skilled
in the art of foretelling events, that this was to
be a happy and prosperous administration.

But as it would be derogatory to the consequence
of the first dutch governor of the great province
of Nieuw Nederlandts, to be thus scurvily introduced
at the end of a chapter, I will put an
end to this second book of my history, that I may
usher him in, with the more dignity in the beginning
of my next.