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KINDERKAMACK.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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457

KINDERKAMACK.

The red-skinned marauders for plunder one day,
An hour before noontide in blossoming May,
Came to honest Jan Bogart's, while Jan was away
On a visit to Hackensack village.
They slaughtered the cattle, they scattered the grain,
Broke the spout of the tea-pot, the wheels of the wain,
And threatened Katrina, Jan's helpmeet, to brain,
If she dared to complain of their pillage.
They scoured every corner, they rummaged each nook,
They ransacked each cupboard, they stripped every hook;
Whatever the robbers could carry they took,
And destroyed all too heavy to carry.
They bore off the harness that hung in the stoop,
The pork from the barrel, the hens from the coop;
Then speedily took off themselves with a whoop,
As if chased from the place by Old Harry.
Jan Bogart came riding from cronies in town,
His heart had no sorrow, his brow had no frown;
He was filled with contentment from toe unto crown,
And eke had of Hollands a skinful.
Arrived at his dwelling, his wonder was such,
That he uttered some rather hard words in Low Dutch,
Declaring the robbers he'd have in his clutch,
And much more he said that was sinful.
He not alone threatened, but acted to boot,
On the principles uttered by Hugo de Groot,
And summoned the neighbors to ride in pursuit,
By his negro-man, 'Cobus Van Clamus.

458

'Cobus carried the summons along Pellum Kill,
By Stena Val rocky, outsounding its mill—
Kreuphel Bus told the story to Schraalenberg Hill,
Closter shouted the tale to Paramus.
On the broad ridge of Tineck, through green Tenavlie,
Secaucus, Hohokus, and Hackensack by,
And through Overbeek meadows resounded the cry,
Stirring hearers to fiercest of action.
Accoutred and mounted the volunteers came,
All eager for vengeance and panting for fame,
And each with a scarcely-pronounceable name,
Save by tongues of a Belgic extraction.
There were Willem van Broekhuizen, Constantijn Loots,
Elias van Kinker, Gerbraend van der Groots,
Cornelis van Stavoren, Pieter van Poots,
Jan Bleecker and Evert van Decker.
There were Heinrijk van Gelder, Harmanus van Schoop,
Jacobus van Vechten, Niclaes van den Poop,
Staats Cats, Gerrit Blauvelt, Tursse Derrick ter Yoop,
Markus Ten Eyck and Wouter van Schecker.
There were Jurrie Jerolamen, Symon van Welt,
Jordiz Spiers, Ide van Giesen, Christophel van Pelt,
Zacharias van Syckel, Claes Cos, Hert van Gelt,
Jan van Vechten and Joris van Ruyper.
There were Gerrit van Purmerendt, Jonas van Schliez,
Myndert Vreelandt, Gus Cadmus, Esaias de Vries,
Brom Vanderbeek, Harrmansy Stoffel van Giese,
Clootz van Bleckom and Symen van Hooren.

459

There were Arent van Rensellaer, Reimer van Schauw,
Jan van Woert, Piet van Brunt, Lucas van der Goesa Dauw,
Antonides Kamphuysen, Dirk Smits, Philip Pauw,
Didier Claesen and Mattys van Burens.
There were Gerbrandtsen Schoonmaker, Teunis van Luyck,
Helmig Helmigsen Garrabrandt, Barent van Schaick,
Jan Evertsen Ackerman, Waling van Dyck,
Edo Aertsen and Cobus Harmansen.
There were Pieter van Voorhis, Claus Bos, Mattys Spoers,
Casparus Cornelissen, Govertsen Toers,
Oeloff Vos, Michel Teunissen, Joostie van Boers,
Dirck Ruyter and Andries Auryansen.
There were Evert van Bakhuysen, Gilliam van Rip,
Marinus van Duikhuysen, Stoffelsen Sipp,
Martinus Merselis, Jan Klauz, Lourens Kip,
Brandt Banta and Mattys van Kuyper.
There were Pieter van Nieuwkeircke, Ide Aersen van Dorn,
Myndert Jan Vanderlinda, Rutan Vanderlorn,
Waling Huysman, Dirck Outwater, Teunis van Horn,
Diedrick Demarest, Stoffelsen Tysen;
There were Teunis van Arsdale, Jan Cadmus, Brom Ram,
Arie Aersen, Ide Oosten, Nicasie van Schlam,
Jan van Bussum, Jan Teunissen, Yip Rip van Dam,
Dirck Vreelandt and Piet Frelinghuysen.
There were Patius van Houten, Casparus van Zuyl,
Jansen Poulesse, Rolf Tidenbock, Hepel van Tuyl,
Art Haring, Dolf Winkelen, Seba von Huyl,
Wiert Hammel and Danel van Alen.

460

There were Philip van Eyderstijn, Roeloff Debaan,
Powles Piek, Gabrel Muissinger, Hendrick van Sann,
Old Conradus van Hooren, Nicasie van Blaan,
Mical Berry, and Andries van Valen.
There were Onno van Steenwijk, Baltasar van Bijn,
Lambertus Schim Bilderdijk, Melis van Klijn,
And Dominie Anton van Schaick Noidekijn,
Who rode, being fat, on a pony.
There were Dirck van Benschoten, Jan Joost vander Meer,
Jeremias van Bebber, Frans Lodewijk van Leer,
Gysbert Huyler, Huig Schuyler, Ryneer van der Veer,
And an Irishman named Mickey Roney.
On such worthies in battle no fortune could frown;
Success was predestined their efforts to crown,
Since their names were sufficient the foe to knock down
Or bring him at least to a low knee.
The track of the robbers in hurry upon
They followed till sunset had reddened and gone,
And long past the midnight rode eagerly on,
For carnage and fisticuffs ready.
Not knowing that hidden the savages lay
By the side of the brooklet, a rod from the way,
Drochy Val they were passing an hour before day,
In a gallop both sweeping and steady.
Now the Sanhican robbers so cunning and shrewd,
Expecting to be by Jan Bogart pursued,
Had quietly entered a spot in the wood,
Where the boughs and the vines kept away light.

461

'Mid the briars and coppice apart from the road,
The plunder they carried the rascals bestowed,
And with it a chicken—male gender—who crowed
Diurnally, just before daylight.
So close was the covert, so dense and so deep,
That no sentry they needed their watching to keep,
One after the other they yielded to sleep,
Nodding time, while their noses sang sweetly.
No fear of a foeman the slumberers knew,
Each slept the profoundest as men often do,
But waked when the traitor at four o'clock crew,
With a crow crowed chromatic completely.
From pleasure in visions to real despair,
They wakened in terror—the white men were there!
The hunters had tracked them in wrath to their lair,
With purpose of vengeance the sternest.
Now vainly for mercy the Sanhican bends;
No pleading may soften the doom which impends;
Revenge with red fingers the moment attends—
The Dutchmen are fiercely in earnest.
Van Gelder commanded the force on the right,
The left by Huig Schuyler was led to the fight,
And the centre presented invincible might,
Under Onno van Steenwijk the peerless.
High waving for truncheon a bottle of gin,
Jan Bogart gave order the fight to begin,
When at it they started with terrible din,
Doing deeds both ferocious and fearless.

462

Snap! bang! went the rifles; but having forgot,
In loading the weapons both bullets and shot,
No foeman was injured, though firing was hot,
And the smoke of the powder was stifling.
And though not a bullet bored hole in a skin,
It did not diminish the worth of a pin,
The glory the white man was destined to win,
Since the wounds which they dealt were not trifling.
Staats Cats who discovered his rifle had missed,
Being valiant of spirit and quick with his fist,
Fell back on the weapon which hung from his wrist,
And better was that than his foes had.
Right and left like a tempest he hurtled his blows:
Right and left in his pathway he tumbled his foes;
And in settling the question by ayes and by noes,
The eyes had it first, then the nose had.
The Dominie Anton, a peaceable man,
Exhorting the valiant, walked out to the van,
Where he stopped to examine a new frying-pan,
Which from Bogart's the robbers had plundered.
A Sanhican told him to drop it and go,
For being a parson he surely should know
He was fitter to pray for than fight with a foe;
But the savage soon found that he blundered.
Through the air on his noddle the frying-pan flew;
But, the skull being hardest, the bottom broke through,
And the handle behind him stuck out like a queue,
While the rim of the pan griped his neck fast.

463

Declining to tarry such treatment to find,
The savage he started with speed of the wind,
While out streamed the handle in stiffness behind,
As the man ran for life and his breakfast.
By the leg Markus Ten Eyck an enemy seized,
Holding tight till Huig Schuyler the prisoner eased,
Whereat gallant Markus was highly displeased,
And piped out his wrath in no kind pipe.
“Intense in his anger,” the chronicle saith,
“Though wearied exceeding and panting for breath,
He cried, ‘I would surely have choked him to death
Had you not torn my gripe from his wind-pipe.’”
And brave Mickey Roney, so brawny of limb,
Foul shame to the minstrel regardless of him!
No words can establish the vigor and vim
Displayed by that blade in his labors.
On the Sanhican Sconces 'twas wondrous to see
His alpeen beat fastly like head waves at sea,
While rang out his war-cry commencing with “Be,”
And ending with something like “Jabers.”
But half of the wonders occurring in fight,
I own myself partly unable to write;
Did I keep my pen going from morning till night,
Exhausting the ink from my bottle.
'Tis enough that the Dutchmen, far down in the day,
Came back with the plunder the foe bore away,
Including the chicken that led to the fray,
By a blundering crow from his throttle.

464

'Tis true that one trophy the foe bore away—
The frying-pan broken so badly that day—
But the Sanhican never could mend it they say,
Gaining naught from the prize that he got ill.
THE MORAL.
When the white men triumphant from battle rode back,
The Sanhicans knowing the cause of attack,
Named the place of the battle thence—“Kinderkamack,”
Meaning “Here chanticleer crowed unbidden.”
And a lesson of wisdom these incidents show:
Whenever the hen-roost you rob of a foe,
Twist the heads off the chickens ere homeward you go,
Lest a crow should betray where you've hidden.