University of Virginia Library

2. CHAPTER II.

The Heer Piper, as we have seen in the preceding
details, was principally influenced, in his
political designs, by the advice of Counsellor
Langfanger; but he intrusted the administration
of his ecclesiastical affairs to Domine
Kanttwell, director of the consciences of the
good people of Elsingburgh. The Domine,
though a follower of Martin Luther, had little

of the liberality of that illustrious reformer, being
somewhat intolerant in his principles, bigoted
in his doctrines, sour in his humour, and
a most bitter enemy to all sorts of innocent
sports, which he represented as the devil's toys,
with which that arch-enemy seduced people from
their allegiance to the church. He held all the
surplus earnings of the poor, as well as all laying
up for the future, to be little better than a
distrusting of Providence; taking every opportunity
to assure his flock, that it was their duty
to work hard all the week, shun all sorts of
amusements and indulgences, and devote all
they could earn to the good of the church, and
the comfort of the parson. He pledged himself,
if they would do this, they might be easy
as to the wants of the future, since, in case of
sickness, loss of crops, or any other accidents
of life, some miraculous interposition would never
fail to take place, by which their wants
would be supplied. Beans and bacon would
rain down from heaven, partridges would fly in
at their doors and windows, and all their wants
would be administered to, as a reward for their
generosity to the parson.

Domine Kanttwell was a great dealer in judgments
and miracles. The direct interposition

of Providence was always visible to him, in
every little accident that happened in the village;
and while he preached that this world
was a mere state of probation, a furnace where
good men were tried by fire, and subjected to
every species of suffering, he took every other
opportunity of contradicting this doctrine, by
converting every little good or ill accident that
happened to his flock into a judgment or a miracle—a
reward for going to church, and honouring
the parson, or a punishment for neglecting
both. On one occasion, the only child of
a poor widow happened to be drowned in paddling
a boat on the river, on the Sabbath morning.
The Domine immediately visited the afflicted
parent, and comforted her with the assurance
of its being a judgment upon her for
not sending the boy to church. In the afternoon
he thundered forth from the pulpit, and
contrasted this unhappy catastrophe, or signal
judgment of Providence, with the miracle of
the poor man, who, notwithstanding he was
over head and ears in debt, with a family of
eight young children, had bestowed a part of
his earnings upon a fund for converting the Indians,
and was rewarded by a miraculous shot,
by which he killed a fat buck, a thing he had
never done before in all his life. What was very
singular, however, and would have excited
some little suspicion, in any other case but that
of the Domine, he never gave any thing away
himself, or trusted to any of these miracles in
his own particular case, it being a maxim of his,
that to cause others to bestow their alms for
any object, was equivalent to giving them himself.
In short, he held the consoling and comfortable
doctrine, that he was perfectly justified
in indulging himself with the good things of
this life, provided he could only persuade the
poor of his flock to appropriate a portion of
their necessary comforts to the great objects he
had in view.

The principal of these objects was, to put a
stop to all sinful recreations, such as dancing,
singing wicked ballads about love and murder,
indulging in the abominations of puppet shows,
reading plays, poetry, and such heathen productions,
and, in short, all those relaxations
with which the cheerful and amiable feelings of
our nature are so immediately connected. Hushed
was the laugh, and mute the sprightly song,
when Domine Kanttwell went forth into the village;
and nothing was heard but the nasal twang
of voices bellowing forth volumes of burning wrath,

and eternal fires, to those who dared to be happy, in
a moment of cessation from toil. These, together
with certain tracts, containing wonderful
accounts of conversions of young sinners of five
years old, denunciations of eternal punishment
upon wicked laughers, who dared to smile, even
while the bottomless pit was yawning to receive
them, together with pious exhortations to pay the
Domine well, and contribute to the conversion of
the Indians, were the only relaxations and amnsements
permitted in the village of Elsingburgh.

Aided by the influence of the Heer, the eloquence
of aunt Edith, and the activity of Lob
Dotterel, the merry little village of Elsingburgh
became a dull, torpid, dronish hive, where nothing
was thought of but the bottomless pit.
People neglected their labours to sing psalms,
and instead of paying their debts, gave their
money to the Domine, to convert the Indians,
trusting to a miracle for support in case of accident.
Lob intruded himself into every house,
in search of old ballads, and such like enormities,
which it was customary at that time to paste
upon the walls; and never rested, till he had succeeded,
either by persuasion, threats, or bribery,
in displacing these ancient memorials. These
were replaced by tracts, such as we have before

specified, which were printed on large sheets, to
be pasted on the walls, in the room of the carnal
and wicked legends of ballad poetry.

In a little while, there was not one of these to
be seen, except in the shop of a heterodox cobbler,
whose walls were decked with a numerous collection
of old Swedish ballads, such as he had
heard in his youth; and which were connected,
and intertwined with all the delightful recollections
which throng around the thoughts of our
native home, when we have left it for ever.
These venerable old legends were his choicest
treasures, and constituted the source of his principal
delights. He sung them while at work in
his shop; and in the leisure of evenings sat at
his door, chanting his ditties in an agreeable
voice, that never failed to collect around him
a crowd of little urchins, and sometimes seduced
the hearers from an opposite house, where the
Domine and aunt Edith had instituted a society
for celebrating the horrors of the bottomless
pit.

These seductions of the old ballads were
highly resented, and Lob Dotterel was directed
to arm himself with a quantity of tracts, replenish
his paste pot, and attack the ballads, tooth
and nail. Crispin, who had some idea that

nobody had a right to meddle with his ballads,
resisted the high constable, at first, with argument;
but finding that Lob was proceeding to
displace his favourite ditty, very discourteously
seized him round the waist, threw him out of
the window, and emptied the paste-pot upon
Master Dotterel's head. But this outrage of
the wicked cobbler, was speedily punished, by a
special judgment, according to the theory of
Domine Kanttwell; who wisely employed human
means, however, to bring it about. The
Domine used all his influence, as well as that
of the Heer Piper, and aunt Edith, to persuade
people their shoes would never prosper, if made,
or even mended, by the wicked, ballad-singing
cobbler. One, who persisted, notwithstanding, in
employing him, had a new pair of shoes, made
by poor Crispin, stolen from him, the very night
they were brought home, by some heaven-in-spired
rogue. The influence of the Domine,
and his coadjutors, aided by this judgment, did
not fail to bring another judgment on the cobbler,
who gradually lost his custom, and with it, all
heart to sing ballads. The judgment was
completed in a most singular manner, by the
destruction of his shop, ballads and all, by a fire;
which, as nobody could tell how it happened,
was set down by the Domine, in his next Sunday's
sermon, for a special interposition of
providence.

The cobbler departed from the village, and
many years afterwards, was discovered in the
person of the wealthy Burgomaster, or alderman
Spangler of New-York, who had risen to wealth
and city honours, and loved old ballads as well
as ever. But this did not impeach Domine
Kanttwell's miracle, or diminish the confidence
of the people of the village, in the aptitude of
Providence to revenge any offence to that worthy
person. Honest Spangler, however, died at a
good old age, and directed the following epitaph
to be graven on his tomb stone, in proof that he
had preserved his respect for old ballads, to
the last:

Wolvert was the last person that maintained
the legitimacy of old ballads in the village of

Elsingburg. From the time of the signal judgment
that followed his contumacy, the sound of
cheerful gayety, the merry laugh, and sprightly
dance were no more heard or seen; and even the
tinkling cow-bell, that homely music whose simplicity
so charmingly accords with rural scenes and
rural quiet, was banished, because the wicked
cows disturbed the Dominie by tinkling them on
Sabbath day.

The Dominie, and his zealous coadjutor aunt
Edith, rejoiced mightily in their work, and predicted
wonderful effects from the downfall of
wicked ballads, profane singing, and the tinkling
of the cow-bells. But it hath been shrewdly
observed, that the corruptions of human nature
are like those of the blood, that break
out into little pimples, which, though they disfigure
the face somewhat, produce no fatal results,
unless they are forcibly driven in, when they
are apt to occasion the most mortal diseases.
Physicians should be careful how they tamper
with the pimples; and reformers should beware,
lest, like unskilful tinkers, in stopping one hole,
they open half a dozen others. It was thus
with the result of Dominie Kanttwell's reformations.

The worthy folks of Elsingburg, being restrained

in those little amusements and recreations,
which, as it were, sanctify those hours of
leisure, so dangerous to mankind in general,
unless some license of this kind is allowed them,
began to indulge in practices more fatal to the
repose of society, and the happiness of mankind,
than singing or dancing. The pimples disappeared
from the surface, but the humours struck
deeper within. The deep and dismal vices of
gloom and superstition came in the place of
cheerful amusements; and it was observed, that
more instances of overreaching in bargains,
more interruptions in social harmony, and more
lapses from chastity, took place in one year,
than formerly occurred in five. The ignorant
seemed to think they obtained a license for certain
worldly offences, by practising the outward
forms of piety, and giving money to the Dominie;
while the evil disposed made religion a
cloak for their hypocrisy.

But these were not the only consequences of this
system of coaxing the poor out of the surplus of
their little earnings, for pious purposes, and trusting
to miracles in time of need, backed by the proscription
of smiles and song. Instead of laying up
something for rainy days, and providing against
those ebbs of fortune which occur so frequently

in the tide of human affairs, they parted
with these little nest-eggs, trusting to the
assurances of Dominie Kanttwell, that if the
worst came to the worst, they would be fed like
the prophet, even by the ravens. But when
these trying seasons came, when the mildew
spoiled the harvest, or sickness unnerved the
arm of the lusty tradesman, if often came to
pass, that the bitter effects of neglecting worldly
means fell heavily upon them. The partridge
did not fly in at the window, nor the unskilful
marksman always hit his deer. Poverty, the
inevitable consequence of relying on miracles
for relief, at least in these latter days, came to
be the portion of many.

To meet these visitations, the Dominie, with
the aid of aunt Edith, instituted a society for the
relief of these unfortunate people, thus suffering
for their faith in miracles. Those who chanced
to have preserved that little surplus, so essential
to the welfare of the labouring classes, were induced
to part with all, or a portion of it, and
thus to prepare themselves for becoming objects
of charity in turn, by placing their future wants
at the mercy of the rubs and accidents of
life. Those who found it more agreeable to
live without labour, at the expense of others,

seeing they could now indulge their wishes,
without suffering the consequences of idleness,
gradually remitted their labours, both of earning
and saving. Thus recruits poured in on every
side; idleness increased; extravagance spread
abroad; and, in no long period of time, the
little industrious community of Elsingburgh,
where a beggar had hitherto never been seen,
became a nest of paupers. The busy Dominie,
together with his zealous assistant, then set
about instituting societies of other kinds, for the
relief of these growing miseries. But the more societies
they formed, the more beggary and
idleness increased. Counsellor Langfanger
was then consulted, as to the best remedy for
these crying evils; and accordingly, advised
a society for the encouragement of industry.
But this plan unluckily failed, owing to the extraordinary
fact, that so long as the other societies
offered relief without working, nobody
applied for employment, to the society for encouraging
industry. So easy is it to make people
worse, in trying to make them better!