University of Virginia Library

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.