University of Virginia Library

Description of the powerful Army that assembled at the
City of New-Amsterdam—together with the interview
between Peter the Headstrong and General Von Poffenburgh;
and Peter's Sentiments respecting unfortunate
great Men.

While thus the enterprising Peter was coasting, with
flowing sail, up the shores of the lordly Hudson, and arousing
all the phlegmatic little Dutch settlements upon its
borders, a great and puissant concourse of warriors was
assembling at the city of New-Amsterdam. And here
that invaluable fragment of antiquity, the Stuyvesant manuscript,
is more than commonly particular; by which
means I am enabled to record the illustrious host that encamped
itself on the public square, in front of the fort, at
present denominated the Bowling Green.

In the centre then was pitched the tents of the men of
battle of the Manhattoes; who, being the inmates of the
metropolis, composed the life-guards of the governor.
These were commanded by the valiant Stoffel Brinker-hoof,
who whilome had acquired such immortal fame at
Oyster Bay—they displayed as a standard, a beaver rampant
on a field of orange; being the arms of the province,

and denoting the persevering industry, and the amphibious
origin of the Nederlanders.[1]

On their right hand might be seen the vassals of that
renowned Mynheer Michael Paw,[2] who lorded it over
the fair regions of ancient Pavonia, and the lands away
south, even unto the Navesink mountains,[3]
and was
moreover patroon of Gibbet-Island. His standard was
borne by his trusty squire, Cornelius Van Vorst; consisting
of a huge oyster recumbent upon a sea green field,
being the armorial bearings of his favourite metropolis,
Communipaw. He brought to the camp a stout force of
warriors, heavily armed, being each clad in ten pair of
linsey woolsey breeches, and overshadowed by broad
brimmed beavers, with short pipes twisted in their hatbands.
These were the men who vegetated in the mud
along the shores of Pavonia; being of the race of genuine
copperheads, and were fabled to have sprung from
oysters.

At a little distance was encamped the tribe of warriors
who came from the neighbourhood of Hell-Gate. These
were commanded by the Suy Dams, and the Van Dams,
incontinent hard swearers as their names betoken—they
were terrible looking fellows, clad in broad-skirted gaberdines,
of that curious coloured cloth called thunder and
lightning; and bore as a standard three devil's darning-needles,
volant, in a flame coloured field.

Hard by was the tent of the men of battle from the
marshy borders of the Wael-bogtig,[4] and the country
thereabouts—these were of a sour aspect, by reason that

they lived on crabs, which abound in these parts: they
were the first institutors of that honourable order of
knighthood, called Fly market shirks; and if tradition
speak true, did likewise introduce the far famed step in
dancing, called “double trouble.” They were commanded
by the fearless Jacobus Varra Vanger, and, had moreover,
a jolly band of Breukelen[5] ferrymen, who performed a
brave concerto on conchshells.

But I refrain from pursuing this minute description
which goes on to describe the warriors of Bloemen-dael,
and Wee-hawk, and Hoboken, and sundry other places,
well known in history and song—for now does the sound
of martial music alarm the people of New-Amsterdam,
sounding afar from beyond the walls of the city. But this
alarm was in a little time relieved, for lo, from the midst
of a vast cloud of dust, they recognized the brimstone coloured
breeches, and splendid silver leg of Peter Stuyvesant
glaring in the sunbeams; and beheld him approaching
at the head of a formidable army, which he had mustered
along the banks of the Hudson. And here the
excellent but anonymous writer of the Stuyvesant manuscript
breaks out into a brave but glorious description of
the forces, as they defiled through the principal gate of the
city that stood by the head of Wall-street.

First of all came the Van Bummels, who inhabit the
pleasant borders of the Bronx. These were short fat men,
wearing exceeding large trunk breeches, and are renowned
for feats of the trencher: they were the first inventors
of suppawn, or mush and milk.—Close in their rear
marched the Van Vlotans, of Kaats Kill, most horrible
quaffers of new cider, and arrant braggarts in their liquor.
—After them came the Van Pelts, of Groodt Esopus,
dexterous horsemen, mounted upon goodly switch-tailed
steeds of the Esopus breed: these were mighty hunters
of minks and musk rats, whence came the word Peltry.—
Then the Van Nests of Kinderhoek, valiant robbers of
birds' nests, as their name denotes: to these, if the report
may be believed, are we indebted for the invention of slapjacks,
or buckwheat cakes.—Then the Van Higginbottoms,
of Wapping's Creek: these came armed with ferules
and birchen rods, being a race of schoolmasters, who first

discovered the marvellous sympathy between the seat of
honour and the seat of intellect, and that the shortest way
to get knowledge into the head was to hammer it into the
bottom.—Then the Van Grolls of Anthony's Nose, who
carried their liquor in fair round little pottles, by reason
they could not bouse it out of their canteens, having such
rare long noses.—Then the Gardeniers, of Hudson and
thereabouts, distinguished by many triumphant feats, such
as robbing watermelon patches, smoking rabbits out of
their holes, and the like, and by being great lovers of
roasted pig's tails: these were the ancestors of the renowned
congressman of that name.—Then the Van
Hoesen's of Sing-Song, great choristers and players upon
the Jew's-harp: these marched two and two, singing the
great song of St. Nicholas.—Then the Couenhovens, of
Sleepy Hollow: these gave birth to a jolly race of publicans,
who first discovered the magic art of conjuring a
quart of wine into a pint bottle.—Then the Van Kortlandts,
who lived on the wild banks of the Croton, and
were great killers of wild ducks, being much spoken of
for their skill in shooting with the long bow.—Then the
Van Bunschotens, of Nyock and Kakiat, who were the
first that did ever kick with the left foot; they were gallant
bush-whackers, and hunters of racoons, by moonlight.
—Then the Van Winkles of Haerlem, potent suckers of
eggs, and noted for running of horses, and running up of
scores at taverns: they were the first that ever winked
with both eyes at once.—Lastly, came the Knickerbockers,
of the great town of Schahtikoke, where the folk
lay stones upon the houses in windy weather, lest they
should be blown away. These derive their name, as some
say, from Kniker, to shake, and Becker, a goblet, indicating
thereby that they were sturdy tosspots of yore; but, in
truth, it was derived from Knicker, to nod, and Boeken,
books, plainly meaning that they were great nodders or
dozers over books: from them did descend the writer of
this history.

Such was the legion of sturdy bush-beaters, that poured
in at the grand gate of New-Amsterdam. The Stuyvesant
manuscript, indeed, speaks of many more, whose names I
omit to mention, seeing that it behoves me to hasten to
matters of greater moment. Nothing could surpass the
joy and martial pride of the lion-hearted Peter, as he
reviewed this mighty host of warriors; and he determined

no longer to defer the gratification of his much
wished-for revenge, upon the scoundrel Swedes at Fort
Casimir.

But before I hasten to record those unmatchable events
which will be found in the sequel of this faithful history,
let me pause to notice the fate of Jacobus Von Poffenburgh,
the discomfitted commander-in-chief of the armies
of the New-Netherlands. Such is the inherent uncharitableness
of human nature, that scarcely did the news
become public, of his deplorable discomfiture at Fort
Casimir than a thousand scurvy rumours were set afloat
in New-Amsterdam; wherein it was insinuated, that he
had in reality a treacherous understanding with the Swedish
commander; that he had long been in the practice of
privately communicating with the Swedes; together with
divers hints about “secret service money,”—to all which
deadly charges I do not give a jot more credit than I think
they deserve.

Certain it is, that the general vindicated his character
by the most vehement oaths and protestations, and put
every man out of the ranks of honour who dared to doubt
his integrity. Moreover, on returning to New-Amsterdam,
he paraded up and down the streets with a crew of
hard swearers at his heels,—sturdy bottle companions,
whom he gorged and fattened, and who were ready to
bolster him through all the courts of justice,—heroes of
his own kidney, fierce whiskered, broad shouldered, colbrand
looking swaggerers, not one of whom but looked as
though he could eat up an ox, and pick his teeth with the
horns. These life-guard men quarrelled all his quarrels,
were ready to fight all his battles, and scowled at every
man that turned up his nose to the general, as though they
would devour him alive. Their conversation was interspersed
with oaths like minute guns, and every bombastic
rhodomontado was rounded off by a thundering execration
like a patriotic toast honoured with a discharge of
artillery.

All these valorous vapourings had a considerable effect
in convincing certain profound sages, many of whom began
to think the general a hero of unutterable loftiness
and magnanimity of soul, particularly as he was continually
protesting on the honour of a soldier,—a marvellously
high sounding asseveration. Nay, one of the members
of the council went so far as to propose they should immortalize
him by an imperishable statue of plaster of Paris.

But the vigilant Peter the Headstrong was not thus to
be deceived. Sending privately for the commander-in-chief
of all the armies, and having heard all his story,
garnished with the customary pious oaths, protestations,
and ejaculations—“Harkee, comrade,” cried he, “though
by your own account you are the most brave, upright,
and honourable man in the whole province, yet do you lie
under the misfortune of being damnably traduced and
immeasurably despised. Now though it is certainly hard
to punish a man for his misfortunes, and though it is very
possible you are totally innocent of the crimes laid to your
charge; yet as heaven, at present, doubtless for some wise
purpose, sees fit to withhold all proofs of your innocence,
far be it from me to counteract its sovereign will. Beside,
I cannot consent to venture my armies with a commander
whom they despise, or to trust the welfare of my
people to a champion whom they distrust. Retire,
therefore, my friend, from the irksome toils and cares
of public life, with this comforting reflection—that if
you be guilty, you are but enjoying your just reward—
and if innocent, that you are not the first great and
good man, who has most wrongfully been slandered and
maltreated in this wicked world—doubtless to be better
treated in a better world, where there shall neither
be error, calumny, nor persecution. In the mean time
let me never see your face again, for I have a horrid
antipathy to the countenances of unfortunate great men
like yourself.”