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Digital file copyright by Cornell University Library 1993. CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY GIFT OF David Stang A HISTORY OF NEW YORK, FROM THE BEGINNING OF THE WORLD TO THE END OF THE DUTCH DYNASTY, CONTAINING, AMONG MANY SURPRISING AND CURIOUS MATTERS, THE UNUTTERABLE PONDERINGS OF WALTER THE DOUBTER, THE DISASTROUS PROJECTS OF WILLIAM, THE TESTY, AND THE CHIVALRIC ACHIEVEMENTS OF PETER, THE HEAD- STRONG THE THREE DUTCH GOVERNORS OF NEW AMSTERDAM ; ' BEING THE ONLY AUTHENTIC HISTORY OF THE TIMES THAT EVER HATH BEEN, 0!R ever will BE PUBLISHED. DIEDRICH KNICKERBOCKER. De ■^•aarheirl die in duister lag, De konic mit klaarlieid aan Uen dag. CHICAGO AND NEW YORK: BELFORD, CLARKE & COMPANY, Publishers. X^ife'^'/v^ - / ;, f 1 'L' % ' 1 .4/ I " 'S- \ '77- /3 ^/^^ ^ /.7 TROW'9 PniNTINQ AND BOOKBINniNQ COMPANY, NEW YORK. A HISTOET OF ]^EW-TOEK. CONTENTS. Ancoimt of the Author 9 Addi-ess to the Public 17 BOOK I. CONTAINING DIVERS INGENIOUS THEORIES AKD PHILOSOPHIC SPECULATIONS, CONCERNING THE CREATION AND POPULATION OP THE "WORLD, AS CONNECTED WITH THE HISTORY OP NEW- TORK.. CHAP. PAQB I.— Description of the World 23 H.— Cosmogony, or Creation of the World ; with a multitude of excellent theories, by which the creation of a world is shown to be no such diffi- cult matter as common folk would imagine 28 HI.— How that famous navigator, Noah, was shamefully nick-named; and how he committed an unpardonable oversight, in not having four sons. With the great trouble of philosophers caused thereby, and the dis- covery of America 34 IV.— Showing the great diflSculty philosophers have had in peopling America —and how the Aborigines came to be begotten by accident — to the great relief and satisfaction of the Author 38 v.— In which the Author puts a mighty question to the rout, by the assistance of the iV^an in the Moon — which not only delivers thousands of people from grreat embarrassment, but likewise concludes this introductory book , 43 BOOK n. TREATING OF THE FIRST SETTLEMENT OP THE PROVINCE OP NIEUW-NEDERLANDTS. I, — In which are contained divers reasons why a, man should not write in a hurry. Also, of Master Hendrick Hudson, his discovery of a strange country— and how he was magnificently rewarded by the munificence of their High Mightinesses 55 IL — Containing an account of a mighty Ark. which floated, under the protec- tion of St. Nicholas, from Holland to Gibbet Island — the descent of the strange Animals therefrom — a great victory, and a description of the ancient village of Commtmipaw 62 4 CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGE III. — In which is set forth the true art of making: a bargain— together with the miraculous escape of a great Bletropolis in a fog — aud the biogra-phy of certain Heroes of Comniunipaw 67 IV. — How the Heroes of Communipaw voyaged to Hell-Gate, and how they were received there 73 V. — How the Heroes of Communipaw returned somewhat wiser than they went— and how the sage Oloffe dreamed a dream— and the dream that he dreamed 79 VI. — Containing an attempt at etymology — and of the founding of the great city of New-Amsterdam 82 VII. — How the city of New-Amsterdam waxed great, under the protection of Oloffe the Dreamer 88 BOOK m. IN WHICH IS RECORDED THE GOLDEN REIGN OF WOUTER VAN TWILLER. I.— Of the renowned Walter Van Tn'iller, his unparalleled virtues— and like- wise his unutterable wisdom in the law case of Wandle Schoonhoven and Barent Bleecker— and the great admiration of the public thereat.. 93 n. — Containing some account of the grand council of New- Amsterdam, as also divers especial good philosophical reasons why an alderman should be fat — ^with other particulars touching the state of the province 93 in.— How the town of New-Amsterdam arose out of mud, and came to be marvellously polished and polite— together with a picture of the man- ners of our great-great-grandfathers .' 105 IV.^Containing further particulars of the Golden Age— and what constituted a fine Lady and Gentleman in the days of Walter the Doubter 110 V. — In which the reader is beguiled into a delectable walk, which ends very differently from what it commenced 114 VI.— Faithfully describing the ingenious people of Connecticut and thereabouts —showing, moreover, the true meaning of liberty of conscience, and a curious device amonc these sturdy l^rbarians, to keep up a harmony of intercourse, and promote population US VH. — How these singular barbarians turned out to be notorious squatters — how they built air castles, and attempted to initiate the Nederlanders in the mystery of bundling 123 Vm. — How the Fort Goed Hoop was fearfully beleaguered— how the renowned Wouter fell into a profound doubt, and how he finally evaporated 126 BOOE IV. CONTAINING THE CHRONICLES OF THE EEIGN OF WILLIAM THE TESTY. I.— Showing the nature of history in general ; containing furthermore the universal acquirements of William the Testy, and how a man may learn so much as to render himself good for nothing 131 n. — In Ttrhich are recorded the sage projects of a ruler of universal genius — the art of fighting by proclamation — and how that the valiant Jacobus Van Curlet came to be foully dishonoured at Fort Goed Hoop 138 HI.— Containing the fearful wrath of William the Testy, and the great dolour of the New-Amsterdamers, because of the affair of Fort Goed Hoop —and, moreover, how William the Testy did strongly fortify the city- together with the exploits of StofEel BrinkerhofE \iZ CONTENTS. 5 CHAP. PiQE IV.— Philosophical reflections on the folly of being happy in times of prosper- ity— sundry troubles on the southern frontiers— how WilUam the Testy had well-nigh ruined the province through a cabalistic word— as also tlie secret expedition of Jan Jansen Alpendam, and his astonishing reward 149 v.— How William the Testy enriched the province by a multitude of laws, and came to be the patron of lawyers and bum-bailiffs— and howthe people became exceedingly enlightened and unhappy under his instructions.. 155 VI. — Of the great pipe plot — and of the dolourous perplexities into which "William the Testy was thrown, by reason of his having enlightened the multitude 160 VII. — Containing divers fearful accounts of Border Wars, and the flagrant out- rages of the Mosstroopers of Connecticut— with the rise of the great Amphyctionic Council of the east, and the decline of WilUam the Testy 165 BOOK V. CONTAINING THE FIRST PART OF THE REIGN OF PETER STUT- VESANT, AND HIS TROUBLES WITH THE AMPHYCTIONIC COUNCIL. I.— In which the death of a great man is shown to be no very inconsolable matter of sorrow— and how Peter Stuyvesant acquired a great name from the uncommon strength of his head 173 II. — Showing how Peter the Headstrong bestirred himself among the rats and cobwebs on entering into office- and the perilous mistake he was guilty of in his dealings with the Amphyctions 177 HI, — Containing divers speculations on war and negotiations— showing that a treaty of peace is a great national evil 181 IV.— How Peter Stuyvesant was greatly belied by his adversaries, the Moss- troopers—and his conduct thereupon 185 v.— How the New-Amsterdamers became great in arms, and of the direful catastrophe of a mighty army— together with Peter Stuyvesant's measures to fortify the city, and how he was the original founder of the Battery 191 VI.— How the people of the east country were suddenly afflicted with a dia- bolical evil, and their judicious measures for the extirpation thereof. . 19S VH. — Which records the rise and renown of a valiant commander, showing that a man, like a bladder, may be puffed up to greatness and import- ance by mere wind 200 BOOK VI. CONTAINING THE SECOND PART OF THE REIGN OP PETER THE HEADSTRONG, AND HIS GALLANT ACHIEVEMENTS ON THE DEL- AWARE. I. — In which is exhibited a warlike portrait of the great Peter — and how General Van PofEenburgh distinguished himself at Fort Casimir 207 n. — Showing how profound secrets are often brought to liglit; with the pro- ceedings of Peter the Headstrong when he heard of the misfortunes of General Van Poiienburgh 214 ni.— Containing Peter Stuyvesant's voyage up the Hudson, and the wonders and delights of that renowned river 220 6 CONTENTS. CHAP. PAGH IV.— Describing the powerful army that assembled at the city of New- Amster- dam— together with the interview between Beter the Headstrong and General Van Poffenburgh, and Peter's sentiments touching unfortunate great men 225 V. — In which the author discourses very ingenuously of himself— after which is to be found much interesting history about Peter the Headstrong and his followers 230 VI.— Showing the great advantage that the author has over his reader in time of battle — together with divers portentous movements, which betoken that something terrible is about to happen 236 VIX. — Containing the most horrible battle ever recorded in poetry or prose — with the admirable exploits of Peter the Headstrong 241 Vni. — In which the author and the reader, while reposing after the battle, fall into a very grave discourse— after which is recorded the conduct of Peter Stuy vesant after his victory 249 BOOK vn. CONTAINING THE THIRD PAET OF THE REIGN OF PETER THE HEADSTRONG — HIS TEOTJBLES WITH THE BRITISH NATION, AND THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE DUTCH DYNASTY. I. — How Peter Stuyvepant relieved the sovereign people from the burthen of taking care of the nation — with sirndiy particulars of his conduct in time of peace 256 II. — How Peter Stuyvesant was much molested by the Mosstroopers of the East, and the Giants of Merryland — and how a dark and horrid con- spiracy was carried on in the British Cabinet against the prosperity of the Manhattoes 264 ni.— Of Peter Stuyvesant's expedition into the East Country— showing that, though an old bird, he did not understand trap 269 IV.— How the people of New-Amsterdam were thrown into a great panic by the news of a threatened invasion, and the manner in which they for- tified themselves 276 Y, Showing how the grand Council of the New-Netherlands came to be mir- aculously gifted with long tongues— together with a great triumph of Economy 278 YI _Ib which the troubles of New- Amsterdam appear to thicken— showing the bravery in time of peril of a people who defend themselves by resolutions 282 VII.— Containing a doleful disaster of Antony the Trumpeter— and how Peter Stuyvesant, like a second Cromwell, suddenly dissolved a rump Par- liament 289 ^m, How Peter Stuyvesant defended the city of New-Amsterdam, for several days, by dint of the strength of his head 293 IX.— Containing the dignified retirement, and mortal surrender, of Peter the Headstrong 299 X.— The Author's reflections upon what has been said 303 AOCOIIl^^T OF THE AUTHOR It was some time, if I recollect right, in the early part of the autumn of 1808, that a stranger applied for lodgings at the Independent Columbian Hotel in Mulberry-street, of which I am landlord. He was a small, brisk-looking old gentleman, dressed in a rusty black coat, a pair of oUve velvet breeches, and a small cocked hat. He had a few gray hairs plaited and clubbed behind, and his beard seemed to be of some eight-and- forty hours' growth. The only piece of finery which he bore about him, was a bright pair of square silver shoe-buckles, and all his baggage was contained in a pair of saddle-bags, which he carried under his arm. His whole appearance was something out of the common run ; and my wife, who is a very shrewd body, at once set him down for some eminent country schoolmaster. As the Independent Columbian Hotel is a very small house, I was a little puzzled at first where to put him ; but my wife, who seemed taken with his looks, would needs put him in her best chamber, which is genteeUy set ofE with the profiles of the whole family, done in black, by those two great painters. Jar- vis and Wood ; and commands a very pleasant view of the new grounds on the CoUect, together with the rear of the Poor- House and BrideweU, and a fiiU front of the Hospital ; so that it is the cheerf idest room in the whole house. During the whole time that he stayed with us, we found him a very worthy, good sort of an old gentleman, though a httle queer in his ways. He would keep in his room for days to- gether, and if any of the children cried, or made a noise about his door, he would bounce out in a great passion, with his hands full of papers, and say something about " deranging his ideas ;" which made my wife believe sometimes that he was not altogether compos. Indeed, there was more than one rea- son to make her thuik so, for his room was always covered with scraps of paper and old mouldy books, laying about at Missing Page Missing Page 10 A HISTORY OF NEW YORK. sixes and sevens, which he would never let any body touch ; for he said he had laid them all away in their proper places, so that he might know where to find them ; though for that mat- ter, he was half his time worrying about the house in search of some book or writiag which he had carefully put out of the way. I shall never forget what a pother he once made, be- cause my wife cleaned out his room when his back was turned, and put every thing to rights ; for he swore he would never be able to get his papers in order again in a twelvemonth. Upon this my wife ventured to ask him what he did with so many books and papers? and he told her that he was "seeking for immortality ;" which made her think, more than ever, that the poor old gentleman's head was a little cracked. He was a very inquisitive body, and when not in his room was continually poking about town, hearing all the news, and prying into every thing that was going on : this was particularly the case about election time, when he did notMng but bustle about from poU to poU, attending aU ward meetings and com- mittee rooms; though I could never find that he took part with either side of the question. On the contrary, he would come home and rail at both parties with great wrath — and plainly proved one day, to the satisfaction of my wife and three old ladies who were drinking tea with her, that the two parties were like two rogues, each tugging at a skirt of the nation ; and that in the end they would tear the very coat off its back, and expose its nakedness. Indeed, he was an oracle among the neighbours, who would collect around him to hear him talk of an afternoon, as he smoked his pipe on the bench before the door ; and I really believe he would have brought over the whole neighbourhood to his own side of the question, if they could ever have found out what it was. He was very much given to argue, or as he called it, philoso- phize, about the most trifling matter ; and to do Viim justice, I never knew any body that was a match for him, except it was a grave-looking old gentleman who called now and then to see him, and often posed him in an argument. But this is nothing surprising, as I have since found out this stranger is the city librarian ; and, of course, must be a man of great learning : and I have my doubts, if he had not some hand in the follow- ing history. As oui- lodger had been a long time with us. and we had never received any pay, iny wife began to be somewhat un- easy, and curious to find out who and what he was. She ac- ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR. \\ cordingly made bold to put the question to his friend, the librarian, who replied in his dry way that he was ono of the literati, which she supposed to mean some new party in poli- tics. I scorn to push a lodger for his pay ; so I let day after day pass on -without dunning the old gentleman for a farthing : but my wife, who always takes these matters on herself, and is, as I said, a shrewd kind of a woman, at last got out of pa- tience, and hinted, that she thought it high time " some people should have a sight of some people's money. " To which the old gentleman replied, in a mighty touchy manner, that she need not make herself uneasy, for that he had a treasure there, (pointing to his saddle-bags,) worth her whole house put to- gether. This was the only answer we could ever get from him ; and as my wife, by some of those odd ways in which women find out every thing, learnt that he was of very great connexions, being related to the Knickerbockers of Scaghti- koke, and cousin-german to the Congressman of that name, she did not like to treat him uncivilly. What is more, she even offered, merely by way of making things easy, to let him Hve scot-free, if he would teach the children their letters ; and to try her best and get her neighboiors to send then- children also; but the old gentleman took it in such dudgeon, and seemed so affronted at beiag taken for a schoolmaster, that she never dared speak on the subject again. About two months ago, he went out of a morning, with a bundle in his hand — and has never been heard of since. AU kinds of inquiries were made after him, but in vain. I wrote to his relations at Scaghtikoke, but they sent for answer, that he had not been there since the year before last, when he had a great dispute with the Congressman about polities, and left the place in a huff, and they had neither heard nor seen any thing of him from that time to this. I must own I felt very much worried about the poor old gentleman, for I thought something bad must have happened to him, that he should be missing so long, and never return to pay his bUl. I therefore advertised him in the newspapers, and though my melancholy advertisement was pubhshed by several humane printers, yet I have never been able to learn any thing satisfactory about him. My wife now said it was high time to take care of ourselves, and see if he had left any thing behind in his room, that would pay us for his board and lodging. We found nothing, how- ever, but some old books and musty writmgs, and his saddle- 12 A HISTORT OF NEW-TOBK. bags, which, being opened in the presence of the librarian, contained only a few articles of worn-out clothes, and a large bundle of blotted paper. On looking over this, the Ubrarian told us, he had no doubt it was the treasure which the old gen- tleman had spoke about ; as it proved to be a most excellent and faithful History of New-Toek, which he advised us by- all means to publish : assuring us that it would be so eagerly bought up by a discerning public, that he had no doubt it would be enough to pay our arrears ten times over. Upon this we got a very learned schoolmaster, who teaches our chil- dren, to prepare it for the press, which he accordingly has done; and has, moreover, added to it a number of valuable notes of his own. This, therefore, is a true statement of my reasons for having this work printed, without waiting for the consent of the author : and I here declare, that if he ever returns, (though I much fear some unhappy accident has befallen him,) I stand ready to accoimt with him hke a true and honest man. Which is all at present. From the public's humble Serv't, Seth Handaside. Independent Columbian Hotel, New- York. The foiegoing account of the author was prefixed to the first edition of this work. Shortly after its publication a letter was received from him, by Mr. Handaside, dated at a smaU Dutch village on the banks of the Hudson, whither he had travelled for the purpose of inspecting certain ancient records. As this was one of those few and happy villages into which newspa- pers never find their way, it is not a matter of surprise, that Mr. Knickerbocker should never have seen the numerous ad- vertisements that were made concerning him; and that he should learn of the pubUcation of his history by mere accident. He expressed much concern at its premature appearance, as thereby he was prevented from making several important cor- rections and alterations ; as well as from profiting by many curious hints which he had collected during his travels along the shores of the Tappaan Sea, and his sojourn at Haverstraw and Esopus. Finding that there was no longer any immediate necessity for his return to New-Tork, he extended his journey up to the ACCOUNT OF THE AUTHOR. 13 residence of his relations at Scaghtikoke. On his way thither, he stopped for some days at Albany, for which city he is known to have entertained a great partiaUty. He found it, however, considerably altered, and was much concerned at the inroads and improvements which the Yankees were mak- ing, and the consequent decline of the good old Dutch man- ners. Indeed, he was informed that these intruders were making sad innovations in all parts of the State; where they had given great trouble and vexation to the regular Dutch settlers, by the introduation of turnpike gates and country school-houses. It is said also,' that Mr. Knickerbocker shook his head sorrowfully at noticing the gradual decay of the great Vander Heyden palace ; but was highly indignant at finding that the ancient Dutch church, which stood in the middle of the street, had been pulled down, since his last visit. The fame of Mr. Knickerbocker's history having reached even to Albany, he received much flattering attention from its worthy burghers, some of whom, however, pointed out two or three very great errors he had fallen into, particularly that of suspending a lump of sugar over the Albany tea-tables, which, they assured him, had been discontinued for some years past. Several families, moreover, were somewhat piqued that their ancestors had not been mentioned in his work, and showed great jealousy of their neighbours who had thus been distinguished ; wlule the latter, it must be con- fessed, plumed themselves vastly thereupon : considering these recordings in the Ught of letters'-patent of nobility, establish- ing their claims to ancestry — which, in this repubhcan coun- try, is a matter of no Uttle sohcitude and vain-glory. It is also said, that he enjoyed high favour and countenance from the governor, who once asked him to dinner, and was seen two or three times to shake hands with him, when they met in the street; which certainly was going great lengths, considering that they differed in politics. Indeed, certain of the governor's confidential friends, to whom he could ven- ture to speak his mind freely on such matters, have assured us, that he privately entertained a considerable good-wiH for our author — nay, he even once went so far as to declare, and that openly, too, and at his own table, just after dinner, that " Knickerbocker was a very weU-meaning sort of an old gen- tleman, and no fool." From all which, many have been led to suppose, that had our author been of different politics, and written for the newspapers, instead of wasting his talents on 14 A HISTORY OF NEW-TORE. historie">, he might have risen to some post of honour and profit : peradventure, to be a notary public, or even a justice in the Ten Pound Court. Beside the honours and civilities already mentioned, he was much caressed by the literati of Albany ; particularly by Mr. John Cook, who entertained him very hospitably at his circu- lating library and reading-room, where they used to drink Spa water, and talk about the ancients. He found Mr. Cook a man after his own heart — of great literary research, and a curious collecter of books. At parting, the latter, iu testimony of fi'iendship, made him a present' of the two oldest works in his collection; which were the earliest edition of the Heidelberg Catechism, and Adrian Vander Donck's famous account of the New-Netherlands; by the last of which, Mr. Knickerbocker profited greatly in this his second edition. Having passed some time very agreeably at Albany, our author proceeded to Scaghtikoke ; where, it is but justice to say, he was received with open arms, and treated with won- derful loving-kindness. He was much looked up to by the family, being the first historian of the name ; and was consid- ered almost as great a man as his cousin the Congressman — with whom, by-the-bye, he became perfectly reconciled, and contracted a strong friendship. In spite, however, of the kindness of his relations, and their gi'eat attention to his comforts, the old gentleman soon became restless and discontented. His liistory being published, he had no longer any business to occupy his thoughts, or any scheme to excite bis hopes and anticipations. This, to a busy mind like his, was a truly deplorable situation ; and, had he not been a man of inflexible morals and regular habits, there would have been great danger of his taking to politics, or drinking — both which pernicious vices we daily see men driven to, by mere spleen and idleness. It is true, he sometimes employed himself in preparing a second edition of his history, wherein he endeavoured to correct and improve many passages with which he was dissatisfied, and to rectify some mistakes that had crept into it ; for he was particularly anxious that his work should be noted for its authenticity, which, indeed, is the very life and sovd of his- tory. But the glow of composition had departed— he had to leave many places untouched, which he would fain have altered ; and even where he did make alterations, he seemed always in doubt whether they were for the better or the worse. ACCOUNT OF TEE AUTHOR. 15 After a residence of some time at Scaghtikoke, he began to feel a strong desire to return to New-York, which he ever re- garded with the warmest affection, not merely because it was his native city, but because he really considered it the very best city in the whole world. On his return, he entered into the full enjoyment of the advantages of a hterary reputation. He was continually importuned to write advertisements, pe- titions, hand-bills, and productions of similar import ; and, al- though he never meddled with the public papers, yet had he the credit of writing innumerable essays, and smart things, that appeared on all subjects, and all sides of the question; in all which he was clearly detected " by his style." He contracted, moreover, a considorable debt at the post- ofiEice, in consequence of the numerous letters he received from authors and printers soliciting his subscription; and he was applied to by every charitable society for yearly donations, which he gave very cheerfully, considering these applications as so many complinents. He was once invited to a great cor- poration dinner ; and was even twice summoned to attend as a juryman at the court of quarter sessions. Indeed, so renowned did he become, that he could no longer pry about, as formerly, in all holes and comers of the city, according to the bent of his h'omour, uimoticed and uninterrupted ; but several times when he has been sauntering the streets, on his usual rambles of observation, equipped with his cane and cocked hat, the little boys at play have been known to cry, "there goes Diedrich!" — at which the old gentleman seemed not a little pleased, look- ing upon these salutations in the light of the praises of pos- terity. In a word, if we take into consideration all these various hon- ours and distinctions, together with an exuberant eulogium passed on him in the Port Foho — (with which, we are told, the old gentleman was so much overpowered, that he was sick for two or thi'ee days) — it must be confessed, that few authors have ever lived to receive such illustrious rewards, or have so com- pletely enjoyed in advance their own immortality. After his return from Scaghtikoke, Mr. Knickerbocker took up liis residence at a little rural retreat, which the Stuyvesants had granted him on the family domain, in gratitude for his honourable mention of their ancestor. It was pleasantly situ- ated on the borders of one of the salt marshes beyond Corlear's Hook: subject, indeed, to be occasionally overflowed, and much infested, in the eummer-tune, with mosquitoes; but IG A HISTORY OF NEW-TORE. otherwise very agi-eeable, producing abundant crops of salt grass and bulrushes. Here, we are sorry to say, the good old gentleman fell dan- gerously iU of a fever, occasioned by the neighbouring marshes. When he found his end approaching, he disposed of his worldly affairs, leaving the bulk of his fortune to the New York Histo- rical Society; his Heidelberg Catechism, and Vander Donck's work to the city Ubrary; and his saddle-bags to Mr. Handa- side. He forgave all his enemies, — that is to say, all who bore any enmity towards him; for as to himself, he declared he died in good-will with aU the world. And, after dictating sev- eral kind messages to his relations at Scaghtikoke, as well as to certain of our most substantial Dutch citizens, he expired in the arms of his friend the hbrarian. His remains were interred, according to his own request, in St. Mark's churchyard, close by the bones of his favorite hero, Peter Stuyvesant : and it is rumoured, that the Histori- ■ cal Society have it in mind to erect a wooden monument to his memory in the Bowling-Green. TO THE PUBLIC. "To rescue from oblivion the memory of former incidents, and to render a just tribute of renown to the many great and won- derful transactions of our Dutch progenitors, Diedrich Knicker- bocker, native of the city of New- York, produces this historical essay. " * Like the Great Father of History, whose words I have just quoted, I treat of times long past, over which the twilight of uncertainty had already thrown its shadows, and the night of forgetfulness was about to descend for ever. With great soUcitude had I long beheld the early history of this venerable and ancient city gradually shppiag from our grasp, trembling on the lips of narrative old age, and day by day dropping piece- meal into the tomb. In a Uttle while, thought I, and those reverend Dutch burghers, who serve as the tottering monu- ments of good old times, will be gathered to their fathers ; their children, engrossed by the empty pleasures or insignificant transactions of the present age, will neglect to treasure up the recollections of the past, and posterity will search in vain for memorials of the days of the Patriarchs. The origin of our city wiU be buried in eternal obhvion, and even the names and achievements of Wouter Van TwiUer, William Kieft, and Peter Stuyvesant, be enveloped in doubt and fiction, like those of Eomulus and Eemus, of Charlemagne, King Arthur, Einal- do, and Godfrey of Bologne. Determined, therefore, to avert if possible this threatened misfortune, I industriously set myself to work, to gather together all the fragments of our infant history which stiU ex- isted, and hke my revered prototype, Herodotus, where no yritten records could be found, I have endeavoured to continue the chain of history by v/ell-authenticated traditions. In this arduous undertaking, which has been the whole busi- * Beloe's Herodotus. 18 A UISTOliT OF NEW-YORK. ncss of a long and solitary life, it is incredible the number of learned authors I have consulted ; and all but to little purpose. Strange as it may seem, though such multitudes of excellent works have been written about this country, there are none extant which give any full and satisfactory account of the early history of New- York, or of its thi-ee first Dutch Gover- nors. I have, however, gained much valuable and curious matter, from an elaborate manuscript written in exceeding pure and classic Low Dutch, excepting a few errors in orthog- raphy, which was found in the archives of the Stuyvesant family. Many legends, letters, and other docimients have I Ukewise gleaned, in my researches among the family chests and lumber garrets of our respectable Dutch citizens; and I have gathered a host of well-authenticated traditions from divers excellent old ladies of my acquaintance, who requested that their names might not be mentioned. Nor must I neglect to acknowledge how greatly I have been assisted by that admirable and praiseworthy institution, the New-Toek His- torical Society, to which I here pubUcly return my sincere acknowledgments. In the conduct of this inestimable work, I have adopted no individual model ; but, on the contrary, have simply contented myself with combining and concentrating the excellencies of the most approved ancient historians. Like Zenophon, I have maintained the utmost impartiality, and the strictest adherence to truth, throughout my history. I have enriched it, after the manner of Sallust, with various characters of ancient worthies, drawn at full length and faithfully coloured. I have seasoned it with profound political speculations like Thucydides, sweet- ened it with the graces of sentiment like Tacitus, and infused into the whole the dignity, the grandeur, and magnificence of Livy. I am aware that I shall incur the censure of numerous very learned and judicious critics, for indulging too frequently in the bold excursive manner of my favourite Herodotus. And to be candid, I have found it impossible always to resist the allure- ments of those pleasing episodes, which, like flowery banks and fragrant bowers, beset the dusty road of the historian, and en- tice him to turn aside, and refresh himself from his wayfaring. But I trust it will be found that I have always resumed my staff, and addressed myself to my weary journey with reno- vated spirits, so that both my readers and myself have been benefited by the relaxalation. TO THE PUBLIC. 19 Indeed, though it has been my constant wish and uniform endeavour to rival Polybius himself, in observing the requisite unity of History, yet the loose and unconnected manner in which many of the facts herein recorded have come to hand, rendered such an attempt extremely diflQcidt. This difficulty was likewise increased, by one of the grand objects contempla- ted in my work, which was to trace the rise of sundry customs and institutionc in this best of cities, and to compare them, when in the germ of infancy, with what they are in the present old age of knowledge and improvement. But the chief merit on which I value myself, and found my hopes for future regard, is that faithful veracity with which I have compUed this invaluable Uttle work ; carefully winnowing away the chaff of hypothesis, and discarding the tares of fable, which are too apt to spring up and choke the seeds of truth and wholesome knowledge. Had I been anxious to captivate the superficial throng, who skim like swallows over the surface of literatui'e ; or had I been anxious to commend my writings to the pampered palates of literary epicures, I might have availed myself of the obscurity t]iat overshadows the infant years cf our city, to introduce a thousand pleasing fictions. But I have scrupulously discarded many a pithy tale and marvoUous ad- venture, whereby the drowsy ear of summer indolence might be enthralled; jealously maintaining that fidelity, gravity, and dignity, which should ever distinguish the historian. ' ' For a writer of this class," observes an elegant critic, " must sustain the character of a wise man, writing for the instruction of pos- terity; one who has studied to inform himself well, who has pondered his subject with care, and addresses himself to our judgment, rather than to our imagination." Thrice happy, therefore, is this our renowned city, in having incidents worthy of swelling the theme of history ; and doubly thrice happy is it in having such a historian as myself to re- late them. For after aU, gentle reader, cities of themselves, and, in fact, empires of theinselves, are nothing without a historian. It is the patient narrator who records their prosperity as they rise — who blazons forth the splendour of their noontide meri- dian — who props their feeble memorials as they totter to decay — who gathers together their scattered fragments as they rot — and who piously, at length, collects their ashes into the mauso- leum of his work, and rears a monument that wiU transmit their renown to all succeeding ages. What has been the fate of many fair cities of antiquity, 20 ^ UISTORT OF NEW-TOBK. whose nameless ruins encumber the plains of Europe and Asia, and awaken the fruitless inquiry of the traveEer? They have sunk into dust and silence — they have perished from remem- brance, for want of a historian ! The philanthropist may weep over their desolation — the poet may wander among their mouldering arches and broken eoltunns, and indulge the vision- ary flights of his fancy — but alas ! aJas ! the modem historian, whose pen, like my own, is doomed to confine itself to duU matter of fact, seeks in vain among their obhvious remains for some memorial that may tell the instructive tale of their glory and their ruin. "Wars, confl.agrations, deluges," says Aristotle, "destroy nations, and with them all their monuments, their discoveries, and their vanities. The torch of science has more than once been extinguished and rekindled— a few individuals, who have escaped by accident, reunite the thread of generations." The same sad misfortune which has happened to so many ancient cities, will happen again, and from the same sad cause, to nine-tenths of those which now flourish on the face of the globe. With most of them, the time for recording their early history is gone by; their origin, their foundation, together with the eventful period of their youth, are for ever buried in the rubbish of years ; and the same would have been the case with this fair portion of the earth, if I had not snatched it from ob- scurity in the very nick of time, at the moment that those matters herein recorded were about entering into the wide- spread insatiable maw of obMvion — if I had not dragged them out, as it were, by the very locks, just as the monster's ada- mantine fangs were closing upon them for ever! And here have I, as before observed, carefully collected, collated, and arranged them, scrip and scrap, ''^ punt en punt, gat en gat,'''' and commenced in this httle work, a history to serve as a foundation, on which other historians may hereafter raise a noble superstructure, sweUing in process of time, until Knicker- bocker'' s New-York may be equally voluminous with Gibbon^ s Rome, or Hume and Smolletfs England ! And now indulge me for a moment, while I lay down my pen, skip to some little eminence at the distance of two or three hundred years ahead; and, casting back a bird's-eye glance over the waste of years that is to roU between, discover myself — ^little I ! — at this moment the progenitor, prototype, and pre- cursor of them all, posted at the head of this host of literary worthies, with my book under my arm, and New-York on my TO Tim PUBLIC. 21 back, pressing forward, like a gallant commander, to honour and immortality. Such are the vain-glorious imaginings that -will now and then enter into the brain of the author — that irradiate, as with celestial hght, his solitary chamber, cheering his weary spiiits, and animating him to persevere in his labours. And I have freely given utterance to these rhapsodies, whenever they have occurred ; not, I trust, from an unusual spirit of egotism, but merely that the reader may for once have an idea, how an au- thor thinks and feels while he is writing — a kind of knowledge very rare and curious and much to be desired. A HISTOEY OF NEW-YOEK. By DIEDRICH KNICKERBOCKEE. Bt faaar!)ti& iiic in ltui«tct Isj, Bit komt mtt WaffijjtiJl aait iltit is^. BOOK I. CONTAINING DIVER i> INGENIOUS THEORIES AND PHI- LOSOPHIC SPECULATIONS, CONCERNING THE CREA- 710 N AND POPULATION OF THE WORLD, AS CON- NECTED WITH THE HISTORY OF NEW YORK. CHAPTER I. DESCKIPTION OF THE WORLD. According to the best authorities, the world in which we dwell is a huge, opaque, reflecting, inanimate mass, floating in the vast ethereal ocean of inflnite space. It has the form of an orange, being an oblate spheroid, curiously flattened at opposite parts, for the insertion of two imaginary poles, which are supposed to penetrate and unite at the centre ; thus forming an axis on which the mighty orange turns with a regular diur- nal revolution. The transitions of Hght and darkness, whence proceed the alternations of day and night, are produced by this diurnal revolution successively presenting the difEerent parts of the earth to the rays of the sun. The latter is, according to the best, that is to say, the latest accoimts, a Imninous or fiery body, of a prodigious magnitude, from which this world is diiven by a centrifugal or repelling power, and to which it is drawn by a centripetal or attractive force, othervsrisc called the 24 ^i mSTORT OF NEW- YORE. attraction of gravitation ; the combination, or rather the coun- teraction, of these two opposing impulses producing a circular and annual revolution. Hence result the different seasons of the year, viz., spring, summer, autumn, and winter. This I beheve to he the most approved modern theory on the subject — though there be many philosophers who have enter- tained very different opinions ; some, too, of them entitled to much deference from their great antiquity and illustrious cha- racters. Thus it was advanced hy some of the ancient sages, that the earth was an extended plain, supported by vast pillars ; and by others, that it rested on the head of a snake, or the back of a huge tortoise — ^but as they did not provide a resting place for either the pillars or the tortoise, the whole theory f eU to the ground, for want of proper foundation. The Brahmins assert, that the heavens rest upon the earth, and the sun and moon swim therein like fishes in the water, moving from east to west by day, and ghding along the edge of the horizon to their original stations during the night ; * while, according to the Pauranicas of India, it is a vast plain, en- circled by seven oceans of milk, nectar, and other dehcious hquids; that it is studded with seven mountains, and orna- mented in the centre by a mountainousTock of humished gold ; and that a gi-eat dragon occasionally swallows up the moon, which accounts for the phenomena of lunar eclipses, t Beside these, and many other equally sage opinions, we have the profound conjectures of Aboul-Hassak-Aly, son of Al Khan, son of Aly, son of Abderrahman, son of Abdallah, son of Masoud-el-HadheU, who is commonly called Masotjdi, and surnamed Cothbiddin, but who takes the humble title of Laheb-ar-rasoul, which means the companion of the ambassa- dor of God. He has written a universal history, entitled " Mouroudge-ed-dharab, or the Golden Meadows, and the Mines of Precious Stones. "| In this valuable work he has related the history of the world, from the creation down to the mo- ment of writing; which was under the Cahphate of Mothi BUlah, in the month Dgioumadi-el-aoual of the 336th year of the Hegira or flight of the Prophet. He informs us that the earth is a huge bird, Mecca and Medina constituting the head, Persia and India the right wing, the land of Gog the left wing, and Africa the tail. He informs us, moreover, that an * Faria y Souza. lUick. Lus. note b. 7. t Sir W. Jones, Diss. Antiq. Ind. Zod. t MSS. Bibliot. Eoi. Fr. A HISTORY OF NEW-TORK. 25 earth has existed before the present, (which he considers as a mere chicken of 7,000 years,) that it has undergone divers deluges, and that, according to the opinion of some well- informed Brahmins of his acquaintance, it will he renovated every seventy -thousandth hazarouam; each hazarouam con- sisting of 12,000 years. These are a few of the many contradictory opinions of phi' losophers concerning the earth, and we find that the learned have had equal perplexity as to the nature of the sun. Some of the ancient philosophers have afiELrmed that it is a vast wheel of briUiant fire;* others, that it is merely a mirror or sphere of transpa.rent crystal : f and a third class, at the head of wiiom stands Anaxagoras, maintained that it was nothing but a huge ignited mass of iron or stone — indeed, he declared the heavens to be merely a vault of stone — and that the stars were stones whirled upward from the earth, and set on fire by the velocity of its revolutions.]: But I give Mttle attention to the doctrines of this philosopher, the people of Athens having fully refuted them, by banishing him from their city; a concise mode of answering unwelcome doctrines, much resorted to in former days. Another sect of philosophers do declare, that certain fiery particles exhale constantly from the earth, which, concen- trating in a single point of the firmament by day, constitute the sun, but being scattered and rambling about in the dark at night, collect in various points, and form stars. These are regularly burnt out and extinguished, not unlike to the lamps in our streets, and require a fresh supply of exhalations for the next occasion. § It is even recorded, that at certain remote and obscure periods, in consequence of a great scarcity of fuel, the sun has been completely burnt out, and sometimes not rekindled for a month at a time ; — a most melancholy iircumstance, the very idea of which gave vast concern to Heraclitus, that worthy weeping philosopher of antiquity. In addition to these various speculations, it was the opinion of Herschel, that the sun is a magnificent, habitable abode; the light it furnishes arising * Plutarch de Placitis Philosoph. lib. iii. cap. 20. t Achill. Tat. Isag. cap, 19. Ap. Petav. t. iii. p. 81. Stob. Eclog. Phys. lib. i. p. 56. Plut de Plac. Phi. i Diogenes Laertius in Anaxag. 1. ii. sec. 8. Plat. Apol. t. i. p. 26. Plut. de Plac Philo. Xenoph. Mem. 1. it. p. 81.5. § Aristot. Meteor. I. ii. c. 2. Idem. Probl. sec. 15. Stob. Eel. Phys. 1. i. p. 55. Bruck. Hist. Phil. t. i. p. 1154, &c. 26 ^ HISTORY OF HEW- tors:. from certain empyreal, luminous or phosphoric clouds, swim- ming in its transparent atmosphere.* But ■we will not enter farther at present into the nature of the sun, that being an inquiry not immediately necessary to the development of this history ; neither will we embroil our- selves in any more of the endless disputes of philosophers touching the form of this globe, but content ourselves with the theory advanced in the beginning of this chapter, and will pro- ceed to illustrate, by experiment, the complexity of motion therein ascribed to this our rotatory planet. Professor Von Poddingcoft (or Puddinghead, as the name may be rendered into English) was long celebrated in the university of Leyden, for profound gravity of deportment, and a talent of going to sleep in the midst of examinations, to the infinite relief of his hopeful students, who thereby worked their way through coUege with great ease and Uttle study. In the course of one of his lectures, the learned professor, seizing a bucket of water, swung it round his head at arm's-length. The impulse with which he threw the vessel from him being a centrifugal force, the retention of his arm operating as a centripetal power, and the bucket, which was a substitute for the earth, describing a circular orbit round about the globular head and ruby visage of Professor Von Poddingcoft, which formed no bad representation of the sun. All of these particiolars were duly explained to the class of gaping students round him. He apprised them, moreover, that the same principle of gravitation, which retained the water in the bucket, restrains the ocean from flying from the earth in its rapid revolutions ; and he farther informed them, that should the motion of the earth be suddenly checked, it would incontinently fall into the sun, through the centripetal force of gravitation; a most ruinous event to this planet, and one which would also obscure, though it most probably wo^lld.not extinguish, the solar luminary. An unlucky stripling, one of those vagrant geniuses who seem sent into the world merely to annoy worthy men of the pud- dinghead order, desirous of ascertaining the correctness of the experiment, suddenly arrested the arm of the professor, just at the moment the bucket was in its zenith, which immedi- ately descended with astonishing precision upon the head of the philosopher. A hollow sound, and a red-hot hiss, attended the contact"; but the theory was in the amplest manner iUus- * Philos. Trans. 1T05, p, 73. Idem. 1801, p. 2G5, Nich. Philos. Jo-arn. i. p. 13. A msrORT OF NEW- YORK- 27 trated, for the unfortunate bucket perished in the conflict ; but the blazing countenance of Professor Von Poddingcoft emerged fi'om amidst the waters, glowing fiercer than ever with un- utterable indignation, whereby the students were marvellously edified, and departed considerably wiser than before. It is a mortifying circumstance, which greatly perplexes many a philosopher, that Nature often refuses to second his efforts ; so that after having invented one of the most ingeni- ous and natural theories imaginable, she will have the per- verseness to act directly in the teeth of it. This is a manifest and immerited grievance, since it throws the censure of the vulgar and unlearned entirely upon the philosopher ; whereas the fault is to be ascribed to dame Nature, who, with the pro- verbial fickleness of her sex, is continually indulging in coque- tries and caprices ; and who seems to take pleasure in violating all philosophic rules, and jilting the most learned and inde- fatigable of her adorers. Thus it happened with respect to the foregoing explanation of the motion of our planet ; it appears that the centrifu,'^al force has long since ceased to operate, while its antagonist remains in undiminished potency: the world, therefore, ought, in strict propriety, to tmnble into the sun; philosophers were convinced that it would do so, and awaited in anxious impatience the fulfilment of their prog- nostics. But the untoward planet pertinaciously continued her course, notwithbtanding that she bad reason, philosophy, and a whole university of learned professors, opposed to her conduct. The philosophers took this in very ill part, and it is thought they would never have pardoned the slight which they conceived put upon them by the world, had not a good- natured professor kindly officiated as a mediator between the parties and effected a reconcihation. Finding the world would not accommodate itself to the theory, he wisely accommodated the theory to the world : he informed his brother philosophers that the circular motion of the earth round the sun was no sooner engendered by the con- ilicting impulses above described, than it became a regidar revolution, independent of the causes which gave it origin. His learned brethren readily joined in the opinion, heartily glad of any explanation that would decently extricate them from their embarrassment — and ever since that era the world has been left to take her own course, and to revolve around the sun in such orbit as she tliinks proper. 28 A HISTORY OF NEW- TORE. CHAPTER II. COSMOGONY, OR CREATION OF THE WORLD; WITH A MULTITUDE OF EXCELLENT THEORIES, BY WHICH THE CREATION OP A WORLD IS SHOWN TO BE NO SUCH DIFFICULT MATTER AS COM- MON FOLK WOULD IBLAGINE. Having thus briefly introduced my reader to the world, and given him some idea of its form and situation, he will natu- rally be curious to know from whence it came, and how it was created. And, indeed, the clearing up of these points is abso- lutely essential to my history, inasmuch as if this world had not been formed, it is more than probable that this renowned island on which is situated the city of New-York, woiild never have had an existence. The regular course of my history, therefore, requires that I should proceed to notice the cosmo- gony, or formation of this our globe. And now I give my readers fair warning, that I am about to plunge, for a chapter or two, into as complete a labyrinth as ever historian was perplexed withal ; therefore, I advise them to take fast hold of my skirts, and keep close at my heels, venturing neither to the right hand nor to the left, lest they get bemired in a slough of unintelligible learning, or have theip brains knocked out by some of those hard Greek names which •wQl be flying about in all directions. But should any of them be too indolent or chicken-hearted to accompany me in this perilous undertaking, they had better take a short cut round, and wait for me at the beginning of some smoother chapter. Of the creation of the world, we have a thousand contradic- tory accoiuits ; and though a very satisfactory one is furnished us by divine revelation, yet every philosopher feels himself in honour bound to furnish us with a better. As an impartial historian, I consider it my duty to notice their several theories, by which mankind have been so exceedingly edified and in- structed. Thus it was the opinion of certain ancient sages, that the earth and the whole system of the universe was the deity him- self ;* a doctrine most strenuously maintained by Zenophanes and the whole tribe of Eleatics, as also by Strabo and the sect =^ Aristot. ap. Cic. lib. i. cap. 3. A BISTORT OF NEW-TOBK. 29 of peripatetic philosophers. Pythagoras likewise inculcated the famous numerical system of the monad, dyad, and triad, and by means of his sacred quaternary elucidated the forma- tion of the world, the arcana of nature, and the principles both of music and morals.* Other sages adhered to the mathe- matical system of squares and triangles ; the cube, the pyra- mid, and the sphere, the tetrahedron, the octahedron, the icosahedron, and the dodecahedron. t While others advocated the great elementary theory, which refers the construction of our globe, and all that it contains, to the combination of four material elements — air, earth, fire, and water; with the assist- ance of a fifth, an immaterial and vivifyiag principle. Nor must I omit to mention the great atomic system, taught by old Moschus, before the siege of Troy ; revived by Democ- ritus, of laughing memory ; unproved by Epicurus, that king of good follows, and modernized by the fanciful Descartes. But I decline inquiring, whether the atoms, of which the earth is said to be composed, are eternal or recent ; whether they are animate or inanimate; whether, agreeably to the opinion of the atheists, they were fortuitously aggregated, or, as the theists maintain, were arranged by a supreme intelli- gence. % Whether, in fact, the earth be an insensate clod, or whether it be animated by a soul ; § which opinion was strenu- ously maintained by a host of philosophers, at the head of whom stands the great Plato, that temperate sage, who threw the cold water of philosophy on the form of sexual intercourse, and inculcated the doctrine of Platonic love— an exquisitely refined intercourse, but much better adapted to the ideal inha- bitants of his imaginary island of Atlantis than to the sturdy race, composed of rebellions flesh and blood, which populates the little matter-of-fact island we inhabit. Beside these systems, we have, moreover, the poetical the- ogony of old Hesiod, who generated the whole universe in the regular mode of procreation; and the plausible opinion of others, that the earth was hatched from the great egg of night, which floated in chaos, and was cracked by the horns of the ^ Aristot. Metaph. lib. i. c. 5. Idem, de Coelo, 1. iii. c. 1. Rousseau Mem. sur Musique ancien. p. 39. Plutarch de Plac. Philos. lib. i. cap. 3. t Tim. Locr. ap. Plato, t. iii. p. 90. t Aristot. Nat. Auscult. 1. ii. cap. 6. Aristoph. Metaph. lib. i. cap. 3. Cic. de Nat. Deor. lib. i. cap. 10. Justin Mart. orat. ad p:ent. p. 20. § Mosheim in Cudw. lib. i. cap. 4. Tim. de anim. muud ap. Plat, lib iii. Mem de I'Acad. des Belles-Lettr. t. xxxii. p. 19, et al. 30 -4 BISTORT OF NEW-TORK. celestial bull. To illustrate this last doctrine, Burnet, in his theory of the earth,* has favoured us with an accurate drawing and description, both of the form and texture of this mundane egg ; which is found to bear a marvellous resemblance to that of a goose. Such of my readers as take a proper interest in the origin of this owe planet, "wiU be pleased to learn, that the most profound sages of antiquity, among the Egyptians, Chal- deans, Persians, Greeks, and Latins, have alternately assisted at the hatching of this strange bird, and that their cackliags have been caught, and continued in different tones and in- flections, from philosopher to philosopher, unto the present day. But while briefly noticing long-celebrated systems of ancient sages, let me not pass over with neglect those of other philoso- phers ; which, though less universal and renowned, have equal claims to attention, and equal chance for correctness. Thus it is recorded by the Brahmins, in the pages of then- inspired Shastah, that the angel Bistnoo, transforming himself into a great boar, plunged into the watery abyss, and brought up the earth on his tusks. Then issued from him a mighty tortoise, and a mighty snake ; and Bistnoo placed the snake erect upon the back of the tortoise, and he placed the earth upon the head of the snake, t The negro philosophers of Congo aflBi-m that the world was made by the hands of angels, excepting their own country, which the Supreme Bemg constructed himself, that it might be supremely excellent. And he took great pains with the inha- bitants, and made them very black, and beautiful ; and when he had finished the first man, he was well pleased with him, and smoothed him over the face ; and hence his nose, and the nose of all his descendants, became fiat. The Mohawk philosophers tell us, that a pregnant woman foU down from heaven, and that a tortoise took her up on its back, because every place was covered with water ; and that the woman, sitting upon the tortoise, paddled with her hands in the water, and raked up the earth, whence it finally hap- pened that the earth became higher than the water. % But I forbear to quote a number more of these ancient and outlandish philosophers, whose deplorable ignorance, in spite of all their erudition, compelled them to write in languages * Book i. oh. 3. tHol-n-ell, Gent. Philosophy. X Johannes Megapoiensis, Jim. Account of H&quaas (ti" Bloha-\vk Indians. 1014. A BISTORT OF NEW-TORK. 31 •which but few of my readers can understand ; and I shall pro- ceed briefly to notice a few more intelligible and fashionable theories of their modern successors. And, first, I shall mention the great Bufllon, who conjectures that this globe was originally a globe of liquid fire, scintillated from the body of the sun, by the percussion of a comet, as a spark is generated by the coUision of fiint and steel. That at first it was surrounded by gross vapours, which, cooling and condensing in process of time, constituted, according to their densities, earth, water, and air; which gradually arranged themselves, according to their respective gravities, round the burning or vitrified mass that formed their centre. Hutton, on the contrary, supposes that the waters at first were imiversally paramount ; and he terrifies himseK -with the idea that the earth must be eventually washed away by the force of rain, rivers, and mountain torrents, until it is con- founded with the ocean, or, in other words, absolutely dissolves into itself. Sublime idea! far surpassing that of the tender- hearted damsel of antiquity, who wept herseK into a fountain ; or the good dame of Narbonne in France, who, for a volubihty of tongue unusual in her sex, was doomed to peel five hundred thousand and thirty-nine ropes of onions, and actually run out at her eyes before half the hideous task was accomplished. Whiston, the same ingenious philosopher who rivalled Ditton in his researches after the longitude, (for which the mischief- loving Swift discharged on their heads a most savoury stanza,) has distinguished himself by a very admirable theory respect- ing the earth. He conjectures that it was originally a chaotic comet, which being selected for the abode of man, was removed from, its eccentric orbit, and whirled round the sun in its pre- sent regular motion ; by which change of direction, order suc- ceeded to confusion in the arrangement of its component parts. The philosopher adds, that the deluge was produced by an un- courteous salute from the watery tail of another comet ; doubt- less through sheer envy of its improved condition: thus furnishing a melancholy proof that jealousy may prevail, even among the heavenly bodies, and discord interrupt that celestial harmony of the spheres so melodiously sung by the poets. But I pass over a variety of excellent theories, among which are those of Burnet, and Woodward, and Whitehurst ; regret- ting extremely that my time will not suffer me to give them the notice they deserve — and shall conclude with that of the renowned Dr. Darwin. This learned Theban, who is as mucjj 32 A HISTORY OF NEW-TORK. distinguished for rhyme as reason, and for good-natured cre- dulity as serious research, and "who has recommended him- self wonderfully to the good graces of the ladies, hy letting them, into all the gallantries, amours, intrigues, and other topics of scandal of the court of Mora, has fallen upon a theory worthy of his combustible imagination. According to his opinion, the huge mass of chaos took a sudden occasion to ex- plode, like a barrel of gunpowder, and in that act exploded the sun — which in its flight, by a sunilar convulsion, exploded the earth — which in like guise exploded the moon^and thus by a concatenation of explosions, the whole solar system was pro- duced, and set most systematically in motion ! * By the great variety of theories here alluded to, every one of which, if thoroughly examined, will be found surprisingly consistent in all its parts, my unlearned readers will perhaps be led to conclude, that the creation of a world is not so diffi- cult a task as they at first imagined. I have shown at least a score of ingenious methods in which a world could be con- structed ; and I have no doubt that had any of the philoso- phers above quoted the use of a good manageable comet, and the philosophical warehouse chaos at his conunand, he would engage to manufacture a planet as good, or, if you would take his word for it, better than this we inhabit. And here I cannot help noticing the kindness of Providence, in creating comets for the great reUef of bewildered philoso- phers. By their assistance more sudden evolutions and transi- tions are effected in the system of nature, than are wrought in a pantomimic exhibition, by the wonder-working sword of Harlequin. Should one of our modem sages, in his theoretical flights among the stars, ever find himself lost in the clouds, and in danger of tumbUng into the abyss of nonsense and ab- surdity, he has feut to seize a comet by the beard, mount astride of its tail, and away he gallops in triumph, like an en- chanter on his hippogriff, or a Connecticut witch on her broom- stick, " to sweep the cobwebs out of the sky." There is an old and vulgar saying about a ' ' beggar on horse- back," which I would not for the world have apphed to these reverend philosophers ; but I must confess that some of them, when they are mounted on one of those fiery steeds, are as wild in their curvetings as was Phaeton of yore, when he a'3- pired to manage the chariot of Phoebus. One drives his comet * Darw. Bot. Garden, Part. I. Cant. i. 1. :03. A HISTORY OF HEW-TORK. 33 at full speed against the sun, and knocks the world out of him with the mighty concussion ; another, more moderate, makes ' his comet a mere beast of burden, carrying the slji a regular supply of food and fagots ; a third, of more combustible dispo- sition, threatens to throw his comet, like a bombshell, into the world and blow it up like a powder-magazine ; while a fourth, with no great delicacy to this planet and its inhabitants, insin- iiatesthat someday or other his comet — my modest pen blushes while I write it — shall absolutely turn tail upon our world and deluge it with water! — Surely, as I have already observed, comets were intended by Providence for the benefit of philoso- phers, to assist them in manufacturing theories. And now, having adduced several of the most prominent theoi-ies that occur to my recollection, I leave my judicious readers at full hberty to choose among them. They are all serious speciilations of learned men — all differ essentially from each other — and aU have the same title to belief. It has ever been the tsisk of one race of philosophers to demohsh the works of their predecessors, and elevate more splendid fantasies in their stead, which in their turn are demoUshed and replaced by the air-castles of a succeeding generation. Thus it would seem that knowledge and genius, of 'which we make such great parade, consist but in detectiag the errors and absurdities of those who have gone before, and devising new errors and ab- surdities, to be detected by those who are to come after us. Theories are the mighty soap-bubbles with which the grown- up children of science amuse themselves — while the honest vulgar stand gazing in stupid admiration, and dignify these learned vagaries with the name of wisdom ! — Surely, Socrates was right in his opinion, that philosophers are but a soberer sort of madmen, busying themselves in things totally incom- prehensible, or which, if they could be comprehended, would be found not worth the trouble of discovery. For my own part, until the learned have come to an agree- ment among themselves, I shall content myself with the ac- count handed down to us by Moses ; in. which I do but follow the example of our ingenious neighboiu^ of Connecticut ; who at their first settlement proclaimed that the colony should be governed by the laws of God — until they had time to make better. One thing, however, appears certain — from the unanimous authority of the before-quoted philosophers, supported by the evidence of our own senses, (which, though very apt to deceive 34 A HISTORY OF NEW- YORK. us, may be cautiously admitted as additional testimony,) it appears, I say, and I make the assertion deliberately, without fear of contradiction, that this globe really ivas created, and that it is composed of land and water. It farther appears that it is curiously divided and parcelled out into continents and islands, among which I boldly declare the renowned Island of New-York will be found by any one who seeks for it in its proper place. CHAPTER in. HOW THAT FAMOUS NAVIGATOR, NOAH, WAS SHAMEFULLY NICK- NAMED; AND HOW HE COMMITTED AN UNPAKDONABLE OVER- SIGHT IN NOT HAVING FOUR SONS. WITH THE GREAT TROUBLE OP PHILOSOPHERS CAUSED THEREBY, AND THE DISCOVERY OF A3IERICA. NoAH, who is the first sea-faring man we read of, begat three sons, Shem, Ham, and Japhet. Authors, it is true, are not wanting who aflBiTn that the patriarch had a-number of other children. Thus Berosus makes him. father of the gigantic Ti- tans ; Methodius gives him a son called Jonithus, or Jonicus, and others have mentioned a son named Thuiscon, from whom descended the Teutons or Teutonic, or, in other words, the Dutch nation. I regret exceedingly that the nature of my plan will not per- mit me to gratify the laudable curiosity of my readers, by in- vestigating minutely the history of the great Noah. Indeed, such an undertaking would be attended with more trouble than many people would imagine ; for the good old patriarch seems to have been a great traveller in his day, and to have passed under a different nam.e in every country that he visited. The Chaldeans, for instance, give us his history, merely alter- ing his name into Xisuthrus— a trivial alteration, which, to a historian skilled in etymologies, will appear whoUy imimpor- tant. It appears, likewise, that he had exchanged his tar- pawUng and quadrant among the Chaldeans for the gorgeous insignia of royalty, and appears as a monarch in their annals. The Egyptians celebrate him under the name of Osiris ; the In- dians, as Menu ; the Greek and Roman writers confound him with Ogyges, and the Theban with Deucalion and Saturn. But the Chinese, who deservedly rank among the most extensive A HISTORY OF NEW-TOBK. 35 and authentic historians, inasmuch as they have known the world much longer than any one else, declare that Noah was no other than Fohi ; and what gives this assertior. some air of credibihty is, that it is a fact, admitted by the most enlight- ened hterati, that Noah travelled into China at the time of the building of the tower of Babel, (probably to improve himself in the study of languages,) and the learned Dr. Shuckford gives us the additional inf omation, that the ark rested on a mountain on the frontiers of China. From this mass of rational conjectures and sage hypotheses, many satisfactory deductions might be drawn ; but I shall con- tent myself with the simple fact stated in the Bible, viz., that Noah begat three sons, Shem, Ham, and Japhet. It is astonish- ing on what remote and obscure contingencies the great affairs of this world depend, and how events the most distant, and to the common observer unconnected, are inevitably consequent the one to the other. It remains for the philosopher to discover thes'e mysterious affinities, and it is the proudest triumph of his sldU to detect and drag forth some latent chain of causa- tion, which at first sight appears a paradox to the inex- perienced observer. Thus many of my readers will doubtless wonder what connexion the family of Noah can possibly have with this history — and many will stare when informed that the whole history of this quarter of the world has taken its character and course from the simple circmnstance of the patriarch's having but three sons — ^but to explain : Noah, we are told by sundry very credible historians, becom- ing sole surviving heir and proprietor of the earth in fee simple, after the deluge, like a good father, portioned out his estate among his children. To Shem he gave Asia ; to Ham, Africa; and to Japhet, Europe. Now it is a thousand times to be lamented that he had but three sons, for had there been a fourth, he would doiibtless have inherited America ; which, of course, would have been dragged forth from its obscurity on the occasion; and thus many a hard-working historian and philosopher would have been spared a prodigious mass of weary conjecture respecting the first discovery and population of this country. Noah, however, having provided for his three sons, looked in all probabdity upon our country as mere wild imsettled land, and said nothing about it ; and to this unpar- donable taciturnity of the patriarch, may we ascribe the mis- fortune that America did not come into the world as early as the other quarters of the globe. 36 ^ BISTORT OF NEW-yUliK. it Is true, some writers have, vindicated him from this mis- conduct towards posterity, and asserted that he really did discover America. Thus it was the opinion of Mart: Lescarbot, a French writer, possessed of that ponderosity of thought and profoundness of reflection so pecuhar to his nation, that tlio immediate descendants of Noah peopled this quarter of tho globe, and that the old patriarch himself, who still retained a passion for the sea-faring life, superintended the transmigra- tion. The pious and enlightened father, Charlevoix, a French Jesuit, remarkable tot his aversion to the marvellous, com- mon to all great travellers, is conclusively of the same opinion ; nay, he goes still farther, and decides upon the manner in which the discovery was efEected, which was by sea, and under the immediate direction of the great Noah, " I have abeady observed," exclaims the good father, in a tone of becoming indignation, "that it is an arbitrary supposition that the grand-children of Noah wore not able to penetrate into the new world, or that they never thought of it. In effect, I can sec no reason that can justify such a notion. Who can seriously beheve that Noah and his inunediate descendants knew Iocs than we do, and that the builder and pilot of the greatest ship that ever was, a ship • which was formed to traverse an unbounded ocean, and had so many shoals and quicksands to guard against, should be ignorant of, or should not have com- municated to his descendants, the art of sailing on the ocean?" Therefore, they did sail on the ocean — therefore, they sailed to America— therefore, America was discovered by Noah. Now aU this exquisite chain of reasoning, which is so strik- ingly characteristic of the good father, being addressed to the faith, rather than the understanding, is flatly opposed by Hans de Laert, who declares it a real and most ridiculous paradox, to suppose that Noah ever entertained the thought of discovering America ; and as Hans is a Dutch writer, I am inclined to believe he must have been much better acquainted with the worthy crew of the ark than his competitors, and of course possessed of more accurate sources of information. It is astonishing how intimate historians do daily become -vvith the patriarchs and other great men of antiquity. As intimacy improves with time, and as the learned are particularly inquisitive and familiar in their acquaintance "vvith the ancients, I should not be surprised if some future writers should gravely give us a picture of men r.nd manners as they existed before the flood, far more copious and accurate than the Bible; and that, in the A HISTORY OF NEW-TORK. 37 course of another centviry, the log-book of the good Noah should be as current among historians, as the voyages of Captain Cook, or the renowned history of Robinson Cnjsoe. I shall not occupy my time toy discussing the huge mass of additional suppositions, conjectures, and probabilities, re- spocting the first discovery of this country, with which un- happy historians overload themselves, in their endeavours to satisfy the doubts of an incredulous world. It is painful to see these laborious wights panting, and toOing, and sweating under an enormous burden, at the very outset of their works, which, on being opened, turns out to be nothing but a mighty bundle of straw. As, however, by unwearied assiduity, they seem to have estabhshed the fact, to the satisfaction of all the world, that this country has been discovered, I shall avail myself of their useful labours to 'he extremely brief upon this point. I shall not, therefore, stop to inquire, whether Am erica, was first discovered by a wandering vessel of that celebrated Phoenician fleet, which, according to Herodotus, cu-cumnavi- gated Africa ; or by that Carthaginian expedition, which PUny, the naturalist, iuf orms us, discovered the Canary Islands ; or whether it was settled by a temporary colony from Tyre, as hinted by Aristotle and Seneca. I shall neither inquire whether it was first discovered by the Chinese, as Vossius with great shrewdness advances ; nor by the Norwegians in 1003, under Biom; nor by Behem, the German navigator, as Mr. Otto has endeavoured to prove to the savans of the learned city of Philadelphia. Nor shall I investigate the more modem claims of the Welsh, founded on the voyage of Prince Madoc in the eleventh century, who having never returned, it has since been wisely concluded that he must have gone to America, and that for a plain reason — ^if he did not go there, where else could he have gone? — a question which most Socratically shuts out all farther dispute. Laying aside, therefore, all the conjectures above mentioned, with a multitude of others, equally satisfactory, I shall take for granted the vulgar opinion, that America was discovered on the 12th of October, 1492, by Christovallo Colon, a Genoese, who has been clumsily nicknamed Columbus, but for what reason I cannot discern. Of the voyages and adventures of this Colon, I shall say nothing, seeing that they are already sufficiently known; nor shall I undertake to prove that this 38 A HISTORY OF NEW-TOEK. country should have been called Colonia, after his name, that being notoriously sell-evident. Having thus happily got my readers on this side of the Atlantic, 1 picture them to myself, aU impatience to enter upon the enjoyment of the land of promise, and in full expectation that I will uxmiediately deliver it into their possession. But if I do, may I ever forfeit the reputation of a regular-bred his- torian ! No — no— most curious and thrice learned readers, (for thrice learned ye are, it ye have read aU that has gone before, and nine times learned shall ye be, it ye read that which comes after,) we have yet a world of work before us. Think you the first discoverers of this fair quarter of the globe had nothing to do but go on shore and find a country ready laid out and cultivated Uke a garden, wherein they might revel at their ease? No such thing — ^they had forests to cut down, under- wood to grub up, marshes to drain, and savages to exterminate. In like manner, I have sundry doubts to clear away, ques- tions to resolve, and paradoxes to explain, before 1 permit you to range at random; but these difficulties once overcome, we shall be enabled to jog on right merrily through the rest of our history. Thus my work shall, in a manner, echo the nature of the subject, in the same manner as the sound of poetry has been found by certain shrewd critics to echo the sense — this being an improvement in history, which I claim the merit of having invented CHAPTER rv. SHOWING THE GREAT DIFFICULTY PHILOSOPHERS HATE HAD IK PEOPLING AMERICA— AND HOW THE ABORIGINES CAME TO BE BEGOTTEN BY ACCIDENT— TO THE GREAT RELIEF AND SATIS- FACTION OF THE AUTHOR. The next inquiry at which we arrive in the regular course of our history, is to ascertain, if possible, how this country was originally peopled — a point fruitful of incredible embarrass- ment ; for unless we prove that the aborigines did absolutely come from somewhere, it will be immediately asserted in this age of scepticism that they did not come at all ; and if they did not come at all, then was this country never populated — a conclusion perfectly agreeable to the rules of logic, but wholly irreconcilable to every feeling of humanity, inasmuch as it A mSTORY OF NEW-TORE. 39 must syllogistically prove fatrJ to the innumerable aborigines of this popiilous region. To avert so dire a sophism, and to rescue from logical anni- hilation so many millions of fellow-creatures, how many wings of geese have been plundered ! what oceans of ink have been benevolently drained! and how many capacious heads of learned historians have been addled, and for ever confounded ! I pause with reverential awe, when I contemplate the ponder- ous tomes, in different languages, with which they have endeavored to solve this question, so important to the happi- ness of society, but so involved in clouds of impenetrable obscurity. Historian after historian has engaged in the end- less circle of hypothetical argument, and after leading us a weary chase through octavos, quartos, and fohos, has let us out at the end of his work just as wise as we were at the beginning. It was doubtless some philosophical wUd-goose chase of the kind that made the old poet Macrobius rail in such a passion at curiosity, which he anathematizes most heartily, as " an irksome, agonizing care, a superstitious industry about unprofitable things, an itching humour to see what is not to be seen, and to be doing whfl,t signifies nothing when it is done." But to proceed : Of the claims of the children of Noah to the original popula- tion of this country, I shall say nothing, as they have already been touched upon in my last chapter. The claimants next in celebrity, are the descendants of Abraham. Thus Christoval Colon (vulgarly called Columbus) when he first discovered the gold mines of Hispaniola, immediately concluded, with a shrewdness that would have done honour to a philosopher, that he had found the ancient Ophir, from whence Solomon procured the gold for embeUishing the temple at Jerusalem; nay. Colon even imagined that he saw the remains of furnaces of veritable Hebraic construction, employed in refining the precious ore. So golden a conjecture, tinctm-ed with such fascinating extravagance, was too tempting not to be immediately snapped at by the gudgeons of learning; and accordingly, there were divers profound writers, ready to swear to its correctness, and to bring in their usual load of authorities, and wise surmises, wherewithal to prop it up. Vetablus and Robertus Stephens declared nothing could be more clear — Arius Montanus, with- out the least hesitation, asserts that Mexico was the true Ophir, and tho Jews the early settlors of the country. While 40 ^ HISTORY OF NEW- YORK. possevin, Becan, and several other sagacious writers, lug in a supposed prophecy of the fourth book of Esdras, which being inserted in the mighty hypothesis, hke the keystone of an arch, gives it, in their opinion, perpetual durability. Scarce, however, have they completed their goodly super- structure, than in trudges a phalanx of opposite authors, with Hans de Laert, the great Dutchman, at their head> and at one blow tumbles the whole fabric about their ears. Hans, in fact, contradicts outright all the Israehtish claims to the first settlement of this country, attributing all those equivocal symptoms, and traces of ChrisManity and Judaism, which have been said to be found in divers provinces of the new world, to the Devil, who has always affected to counterfeit the worship of the true deity. " A remark," says the knowing old Padre d'Acosta, " made by all good authors who have spoken of the rehgion of nations newly discovered, and founded besides on the authority of the fatliers of the church. " Some writers again, among whom it is with great rogi-et I am compelled to mention Lopez de Gomara, and Juan de Leri, insinuate that the Canaanites, being driven from the land of promise by the Jews, were seized with such a panic that they fled without looking behind them, untU, stopping to take breath, they found themselves safe in America. As they brought neither their national language, manners, nor features with them, it is supposed they left them behind in the hiu-ry of their flight — 1 cannot give my faith to this opinion. I pass over the supposition of the learned Grotius, who being both an ambassador and a Dutchman to boot, is entitled to gi'oat respect ; that North America was peopled by a stroUing company of Norwegians, and that Peru was founded by a colony from China — Manco or Mango Capac, the first Incas, being himself a Chinese. Nor shall I more than barely men- tion, that Father Kircher ascribes the settlement of America to the Egyptians. Eudbeck to the Scandinavians, Charron to the Gauls, Juifredus Pedri to a skating party from Friesland, Milius to the Celtse, Marinocus the Sicilian to the Romans, Le Compte to the Phoenicians, Postel to the Moors, Idartyn d'Angleria to the Abyssinians, together with the sage surmise of De Laert, that England, Ireland, and the Orcades may con- tend for that honoiu". Nor will I bestow any more attention or credit to the idea that America is the fairy region of Zipangri, described by that dreaming traveller, Marco Polo, the Venetian ; or that it com- A BISTORT OF NEW-YORK. 4I prises the visionary island of Atlantis, described by Plato. Neither will I stop to investigate the heathenish assertion of Paracelsus, that each hemisphere of the globe was originally furnished with an Adam and Eve— or the more flattering opinion of Dr. Pomayne, supported by many nameless authori- ties, that Adam was of the Indian race — or the startling con- jecture of Buffon, Helvetius, and Darwin, so highly honour- able to mankind, that the whole human species is accidentally descended from a remarkable family of monkeys ! This last conjecture, I must own, came upon me very sud- denly and very luigraciously. I have often beheld the clown in a pantomime, while gazing in stupid wonder at the ex- travagant gambols of a harlequin, aU at once electrified by a sudden stroke of the wooden sword across his shoulders. Lit- tle did I think at such times, that it would ever faU to my lot to be treated with equal discourtesy; and that while I was quietly l)eholding these grave philosophers, emulating the eccentric transformations of the hero of pantomime, they would or a sudden tni-n upon me and my readers, and with one hypo:hetical flourish metamorphose us into beasts ! I de- termined from that moment not to burn my fingers with any more of tieir theories, but content myself with detailing the different nethods by which they transported the descendants of these ancient and respectable monkeys to this great field of theoreticd. warfare. This W£B done either by migrations by land or transmigra- tions by water. Thus, Padre Joseph D'Acosta enumerates three passages by land— first by the north of Europe, secondly by the ncrth of Asia, and thirdly by regions southward of the straits of Magellan. The learned Grotius marches his Norwe- gians by I pleasant route across frozen rivers and arms of the sea, throigh Iceland, Greenland, EstotUand, and Naremberga: and various writers, among whom are Angleria, De Homn, and Buffm, anxious for the accommodation of these travellers, have fastened the two continents together by a strong chain of deductons— by which means they could pass over dry-shod. But shoud even this faU, Pinkerton, that industrious old gen- tleman vho compiles books and manufactures geographies, has consiracted a natural bridge of ice, from continent to con- tinent, a' the distance of four or five miles from Behring's straits— fer which he is entitled to the grateful thanks of aU the wanlering aborigines who ever did or ever wiU pass over it. 42 ^ HISTOIiT OF NBW-YORK. It is ^n evil much to be lamented, that none of the worthy ■writers above quoted could ever commence his work, without immediately declaring hostilities against every writer who had treated of the same subject. In this particular, authors may be compared to a certain sagacious bird, which, in buUding its nest, is sure to pull to pieces the nests of all the birds m the neighbourhood. This unhappy propensity tends grievously to impede the progress of sound knowled.ge. Theories arc at best but brittle productions, and when once committed to the stream, they should take care that, hke the notable pots which were feUow-voyagers, they do not crack each other. My chief surprise is, that among the many writers I have noticed, no one has attempted to prove that this couatry was peopled from the moon — or that the first inhabitants floated hither on islands of ice, as white bears cruise about tie north- ern oceans — or that they were conveyed hither by baloons, as modern aeronauts pass from Dover to Calais— or ly witch- craft, as Simon Magus posted among the stars— or after the manner of the renowned Scythian Abaris, who, hke the New- England witches on full-blooded broomsticks, nude most unheard-of journeys on the back of a golden arrow, given him by the Hyperborean Apollo. But there is stiU. one mode left by which this courtry could have been peopled, which I have reserved for the las;, because I consider it worth all the rest : it is — % accident ! Speaking of the islands of Solomon, New-Guinea, and New-Hdland, the profound father Charlevoix observes, ' ' in fine, all tlese coun- tries are peopled, and it is possible some have been so by acci- dent. Now if it could have happened in that mamer, why might it not have been at the ^ame time, and by the same means, with the other part of the globe?" This ingennus mode of deducing certain conclusions from possible premses, is an improvement in syllogistic skill, and proves the goid father superior even to Architnedes, for he can turn the wcrld with- out anything to rest his lever upon. It is only surpssed by the dexterity with which the sturdy old Jesuit, ir another place, cuts the gordon knot — "Nothing," says he, 'is more easy. The inhabitants of both hemispheres are cerfeinly the descendants of the same father. The common fathei of man- kind received an express order from Heaven to pople the world, and accordingly it has been peopled. To bing this about, it was necessary to overcome all difficulties in the way, and they have also been overcome I " Pious logician ! low does A mSTOllT OF NEW-TORK. 4B he put all the herd of lahorious theorists to the blush, by ex- plaining, in iive words, what it has cost them volumes to prove they knew nothing about. From all the authorities here quoted, and a variety of others which I have consulted, but which are omitted through fear of fatiguing the unlearned reader— I can only draw the follow- ing conclusiorts, which luckily, however, are sufficient for my purpose — First, that this part of the world has actually been peopled, (Q. E. D.,) to support which we have living proofs in the numerous tribes of Indians that inhabit it. Secondly, that it has been peopled in five hundred different ways, as proved by a cloud of authors, who, from the positiveness of their assertions, seem to have been eye-witnesses to the fact. Thirdly, that the people oi vnis country had a variety of fathers, which, as it may not be thought much to their credit by the common run of readers, the less we say on the subject the better. The question, therefore, I trust, is for ever at rest. CHAPTER V. TS WHICH THE AUTHOR PUTS A MIGHTY QUESTION TO THE ROUT BY THE ASSISTANCE OF THE JIAN IN THE MOON— WHICH NOT ONLY DEU.VERS THOUSANDS OP PEOPLE FROM GREAT EMBAR- RASSMENT, CUT LIKEWISE CONCLUDES THIS INTRODUCTORY BOOK. The writer of a history may, in some respects, be hkened imto an adventurous knight, who having undertaken a peril- ous enterprise, by way of estabhshing his fame, feels bound, in honour and chivalry, to turn back for no difficulty nor hard- ship, and never to shrink or quaU, whatever enemy he may encounter. Under this impression, I resolutely draw my pen, and fall to, with might and main, at those doughty questions and subtle paradoxes, which, like fiery dragons and bloody giants, beset the entrance to my history, and would fain re- pulse me from the very threshold. And at this moment a gigantic question has started up, which I' must needs take by the beard and utterly subdue, before I can advance another step in my historic undertaking; but I trust this will be the last adversary I shall have to contend with, and that in the 44 -^ HISTORY OF NEW-YORK. next book I shall be enabled to conduct my readers in triumph into the body of my work. The question which has thus suddenly arisen, is, what right had the first discoverers of America to land and take posses- sion of a country, without first gaining the consent of its inhabitants, or yielding them an adequate compensation for theu' territory ? — a question which has withstood many fierce assaults, and has given much distress of mind to multitudes of kind-hearted folk. And, indeed, tmtil it be totally vanquished, and put to rest, the worthy people of America can by no means enjoy the soil they inhabit, with clear right and title, and quiet, unsullied consciences. The first source of right hy which property is acquired in a country, is disgoveey. For as all mankind have an equal right to any thing which has never before been appropriated, so any nation that discovers an uninhabited country, and takes possession thereof, is considered as enjoying full property, and absolute, unquestionable empire therein.* This proposition being admitted, it follows clearly that the Europeans who first visited America were the real discoverers of the same ; nothing being necessary to the establishment of this fact, but simply to prove that it was totally uninhabited by man. This would, at first, appear to be a point of some difficulty, for it is well known that this quarter of the world abounded with certain animals that walked erect on two feet, had something of the human countenance, uttered certain un- inteUigble sounds very much like language; ia short, had a, marvellous resemblance to human beings. But the zealous and enlightened fathers, who accompanied the discoverers, for the purpose of promoting the kingdom of heaven, by establish- ing fat monasteries and bishoprics on earth, soon cleared up this point, greatly to the satisfaction of his hohness the Pope, and of aU Christian voyagers and discoverers. They plainly proved, and as there were no Indian writers arose on the other side, the fact was considered as fully admitted and estabUshed, that the two-legged race of ammaJs before mentioned were mere cannibals, detestable monsters, and many of them giants — which last description of vagrants have, since the times of Gog, Magog, and Goliath, been con- sidered as outlaws, and have received no quarter in either history, chivalry, or song. Indeed, even the philosophic Bacon * Grotius. Puffendorf, b. t. o. 4. Vattel, b. i. c. 18, ic. A HISTORT OF NEW-TORE. 45 declared the Americans to be people proscribed by the laws of nature, inasmuch as they had a barbarous custom of sacri- ficing men, and feeding upon man's flesh. Nor are these all the proofs of their utter bai-barism ; among many other writers of discernment, UUoa tells us, "their im- becility is so visible, that one.can hardly form an idea of them different from what one has of the brutes. Nothing disturbs the tranquiUity of their soids, equally insensible to disasters and to prosperity. Though half naked, they are as contented as a monarch in his most splemdid array. Fear makes no im- pression on them, and respect as Kttle." All this is further- more supported by the authority of M. Bouguer: "It is not easy," says he, "to describe the degree of their indifference for wealth and aU its advantages. One does not well know what motives to propose to them, when one would persuade them to any service: It is vain to offer them money; they answer thai they are not hungry." And Vanegas confirms the whole, assuring us that "ambition they have none, and are more desirous of being thought strong and valiant. The objects of ambition with us— honour, fame, reputation, riches, posts, and distinctions— are unknown among them. So that this powerful spring of action, the cause of so much seeming good and real evil in the world, has no power over them. In a word, these unhappy mortals may be compared to children, in whom the development of reason is not completed." Now all these peculiarities, although in the unenhghtened states of Greece they would have entitled their possessors to immortal honour, as having reduced to practice those rigid and abstemious maxims, the mere talking about which acquired certain old Greeks the reputation of sages and philosophers ; — yet, were they clearly proved ia the present instance to betoken a most abject and brutified nature, totally beneath the human character. But the benevolent fathers, who had undertaken to turn these unliappy savages into di.unb beasts, by dint of argument, advanced still stronger proofs ; for as certain divines of the sixteenth century, and among the rest, LuUus, affirm— the Americans go naked, and have no beards!— "They have nothing," says Lullus, "of the reasonable animal, except the mask." — And even that mask was allowed to avail them but little, for it was soon found that they were of a hideous copper complexion— and being of a copper complexion, it was all the same as if they wore negroes— and negroes are black, "and black," said the pious fathers, devoutly crossing themselves, 46 -4 HISTORY OF NEW- YORK. " is the colour of the Devil !" Therefore, so far from being able to own property, they had no right even to personal freedom — for hberty is too radiant a deity to inhabit such gloomy temples. All which circumstances plainly convinced the righteous followers of Cortes and Pizarro, that these mis- creants had no title to the soU that they infested— that they were a perverse, illiterate, dumb, beardless, black-seed — mere wild beasts of the forests, and, Uke them, should either be subdued or exterminated. From the foregoing arguments, therefore, and a variety of others equally conclusive, which I forbear to enumerate, it is clearly evident that this fair quarter of the globe, when first visited by Europeans, was a howhng wilderness, inhabited by nothing but wild beasts; and that the transatlantic visitors acquired an incontrovertible property therein, by the right of discovery. This right being f uUy estabhshed, we now come to the next, which is the right acquired by cultivation. ' ' The cultivation of the soU," we are told, "is an obligation imposed by nature on mankind. The whole world is appointed for the nourish- ment of its inhabitants ; but it would be incapable of doing it, was it uncultivated. Every nation is then obhged by the law of nature to cultivate the ground that has faUen to its share. Those people, hke the ancient Germans and modem Tartars, who, having fertile countries, disdain to cultivate the earth, and choose to hve by rapine, are wanting to themselves, and descj-ve to be exterminated as savage and pernicious beasts.'"* Now it is notorious, that the savages knew nothing of agri- culture, when first discovered by the Europeans, but hved a most vagabond, disorderly, luirighteous life, — rambling from place to place, and prodigally rioting upon the spontaneous luxuries of nature, without tasking her generosity to yield them any thing more ; whereas it has been most unquestion- ably shown, that Heaven intended the earth should be ploughed and sown, and manured, and laid out into cities, and towns, and farms, and country-seats, and pleasure grounds, and pubhc gardens, aU which the Indians knew nothing about — therefore, they did not improve the talents Providence had bestowed on them —therefore, they were care- less stewards — therefore, they had no right to the soU— there- fore, they deserved to be exterminated. * Vattel, b. i. eh. 17. A HISTORY OF NEW-TORK. 47 It is true, the savages might plead that they di'ew -all the benefits fram the land which their simple wants required — they found plenty of game to hunt, which, together with the roots and uncultivated fruits of the earth, furnished a sufficient variety for their frugal repasts ; — and that as Heaven merely designed the earth to form the abode, and satisfy the wants of man; so long as those purposes were answered, the wUl of Heaven was accomplished. — But this only proves how unde- serving they were of the blessings around them — they were so much the more savages, for not having more wants; for knowl- edge is in some degree an increase of desires, and it is this su- periority, both in the number and magnitude of his desires, that distinguishes the man from the beast. Therefore, the In- dians, in not having more wants, were very unreasonable ani- mals ; and it was but just that they should make way for the Europeans, who had a thousand wants to their one, and, there- fore, would turn the earth to more account, and by cultivating it, more truly fulfil the iviU of Heaven. Besides — Grotius and Lauterbach, and PuflEendorf, and Titius, and many wise men beside, who have considered the matter properly, have deter- mined that the property of a country caimot be acquired by hunting, cutting wood, or drawing water in it — nothing but precise demarcation of hmits, and the intention of cultivation, can establish the possession. Now, as the savages (probably from never having read the authors above quoted) had never complied with any of these necessary forms, it plainly followed that they had no right to the soU, but that it was completely at the disposal of the first Comers, who had more knowledge, more wants, and more elegant, that is to say, artificial desires than themselves. In entering upon a newly-discovered, uncultivated country, therefore, the new comers were but taldng possession of what, according to the aforesaid doctrine, was their own property — therefore, in opposing them, the savages were invading thoir just rights, infringing the unmutable laws of Nature, and coun- teracting the wiU of Heaven — therefore, they were guilty of impiety, burglary, and trespass on the case — therefore, they were hardened ofienders against God and man — therefore, they ought to be exterminated. But a more irresistible right than either that I have men- tioned, and one which will be the most readily admitted by my reader, provided he be blessed with bowels of charity and pbi- lanthropy, is the right acquired by civilization. AU the world 48 ^ HISTORY OF NEW- YORK. knows the lamentable state in ■which these poor savages were found — not only deficient in the comforts of life, but what is still worse, most piteously and imfortunately bhnd to the mis- eries of their situation. But no sooner did the benevolent in- habitants of Europe behold their sad condition, than they im- mediately went to work to ameUorate and improve it. They introduced among them rum, gin, brandy, and the other com- forts of life — and it is astonishing to read how soon the poor savages learned to estimate these blessings— they hkewise made known to them a thousand remedies, by which the raost iavet- erate diseases are alleviated and healed ; and that they might comprehend the benefits and enjoy the comforts of these medi- cines, they previously introduced among them the diseases which they were calculated to cure. By these and a variety of other m.ethods was the condition of these poor savages won- derfully improved ; they acquired a thousand wants, of which they had before been ignorant ; and as he has most sotu'ces of happiness who has most wants to be gratified, they were doubt- lessly rendered a much happier race of beings. But the most important branch of civilization, and which has m.ost strenuously been extolled by the zealous and pious fathers of the Romish Church, is the introduction of the Christian faith. It was truly a sight that might weU inspire horror, to behold these savages stumbling among the dark mountains of paganism, and guilty of the most horrible ignorance of rehgion. It is true, they neither stole nor defrauded ; they were sober, frugal, continent, and faithful to their word ; but though they acted right habitually, it was aU in vain, unless they acted so from precept. The new comers, therefore, used every method to induce them to embrace and practise the true rehgion— ex- cept indeed that of setting them the example. But notwithstanding aU these compUcated labors for their good, such was the unparalleled obstinacy of these stubborn wretches, that they ungratefully refused to acknowledge the strangers as their benefactors, and persisted in disbeheving the doctrines they endeavoured to inoulcate ; most insolently alleg- ing, that from their conduct, the advocates of Christianity did not seem to beheve in it themselves. Was not this too miuch for human patience? — would not one suppose that the benign visitants from Europe, provoked at their incredulity, and dis- couraged by their stiff-necked obstinacy, woiild for ever have abandoned then- shores, and consigned them to their original ignorance and misery? — But no — so zealous were they to effect A HISTORY OF Is EW- YORK. 49 the temporal comfort and eternal salvation of these pagan infi- dels, that they even proceeded from the milder means of per- suasion, to the more painful and troublesome one of persecution, let loose among them, whole troops of fiery monks and furious bloodhounds — purified them by fire and sword, by stake and fagot ; in consequence of which indefatigable measures, the cause of Christian love and charity was so rapidly advanced, that in a very few years not one-fifth of the number of unbe- lievers existed in South America that were found there at the time of its discovery. What stronger right need the European settlers advance to the country than this? Have not whole nations of uninformed savages been made acquainted with a thousand imperious wants and indispensable comforts, of which they were before wholly ignorant? Have they not been hteraUy hunted and smoked out of the dens and lurldng-places of ignorance and infidehty, and absolutely scoiu-ged into the right path? Have not the temporal things, the vain baubles and filthy lucre of this world, which were too apt to engage theu' worldly and selfish thoughts, been benevolently taken from them? and have they not, instead thereof, been taught to set their affections on things above? — And finally, to use the words of a reverend Spanish father, in a letter to his superior in Spain — " Can any one have the pre- sumption to say, that these savage pagans have yielded any thing more than an inconsiderable recompense to their benefac- tors, in surrendering to them a little pitiful tract of this dirty sublunary planet, in exchange for a glorious inheritance in the kingdom of heaven?" Here, then, are three complete and undeniable sources of right established, any one of which was more than ample to establish a property in the newly-discovered regions of America. Now, so it has happened m certain parts of this dehghtful quarter of the globe, that the right of discovery has been so strenuously asserted — the influence of cultivation so industriously extended, and the progress of salvation and civilization so zealously prosecuted, that, what with their attendant wars, persecutions, oppressions, diseases, and other partial evils that often hang on the skirts of great benefits — the savage aborigines have, somehow or another, been utterly annihilated — and this all at once brings me to a fourth right, which is worth all the others put together. — For the original claimants to the soil being all dead and buried, and no one remaining to inherit or dispute the soil, the Spaniards, as the next immediate occupants, en- 50 ^ HISTORY OF NEW-TOBK. tered upon the possession as clearly as the hangman succeeds to the clothes of the malefactor — and as they have Blackstone,* and aU the learned expounders of the law on their side, they may set aU actions of ejectment at defiance — and this last right may be entitled the eight by extermination, or in other words, the eight by gunpowder. But lest any scruples of conscience shotdd remaia on this head, and to settle the question of right for ever, his holiaess Pope Alexander "VI. issued a buU, by which he generously granted the newly-discovered quarter of the globe to the Span- iards and Portuguese; who, thus having law and gospel on their side, and being inflamed with great spu-itual zeal, showed the pagan savages neither favour nor affection, but prosecuted the work of discovery, colonization, civilization, and extermi- nation, with ten times more fury than ever. Thus were the Exiropean worthies who first discovered America, clearly entitled to the soil ; and not only entitled to the soil, but likewise to the eternal thanks of these infidel savages, for having come so far, endured so many perils by sea and land, and taken such unwearied pains, for no other pur- pose but to improve their forlorn, uncivilized, and heathenish condition — for having made them acquainted with the com- forts of hfe ; for having introduced among them the light of religion; and, finally, for having hurried them out of the world, to enjoy its reward ! But as argument is never so well understood by us selfish mortals as when it comes home to ourselves, and as I am par- ticularly anxious that this question should be put to rest for ever, I wiU suppose a parallel case, by way of arousing the candid attention of my readers. Let us suppose, then, that the inhabitants of the moon, by astonishing advancement in science, and by profound insight into that lunar philosophy, the mere flickerings of which have of late years dazzled the feeble optics, and addled the shallow brains of the good people of our globe — ^let us suppose, I say, that the inhabitants of the moon, by these means, had arrived at such a command of their energies, such an enviable state of perfectibility, as to control the elements, and navigate the boundless regions of space. Let us suppose a roving crew of these soaring philosophers, in the course of an aerial voyage of • Bl. Com. b. ii. u. 1. A HISTOUT OF NEW-TORK. 51 discovery among the stars, should chance to alight upon this outlandish planet. And here I beg my readers will not have the uncharitable- ness to smile, as is too frequently the fault of volatile readers, when perusing the grave speculations of piiilosophers. I am far from indtilging in any sportive vein at present ; nor is the supposition I have been making so wild as many may deem it. It has long been a very serious and anxious question with me, and many a time and oft, in the course of my overwhelming cares and contrivances for the welfare and protection of this my native planet, have I lain awake whole nights debating in my mind, whether it were most probable we should first dis- cover and civilize the moon, or the moon discover and civilize our globe. Neither would the prodigy of sailing in the air and cruising among the stars be a whit more astonishing and in- comprehensible to us, than was the European mystery of navi- gating floating castles, through the world of waters, to the simple savages. We have already discovered the art of coast- ing along the aerial shores of our planet, by means of balloons, as the savages had of venturing along their sea-coasts in canoes ; and the disparity between the former, and the aerial vehicles of the philosophers from the moon, might not be greater than that between the bark canoes of the savages and the mighty ships of their discoverers. I might here pursue an endless chain of similar speculations ; but as they would be un- important to my subject, I abandon them to my reader, par- ticularly if he be a philosopher, as matters well worthy of his attentive consideration. To return then to my supposition — let us suppose that the aerial visitants I have mentioned, possessed of vastly superior knowledge to ourselves ; that is to say, possessed of superior knowledge in the art of extermination — riding on hippogrifCs — defended with impenetrable armour— armed with concentrated sunbeams, and provided with va'jt engines, to hurl enormous moon-stones : in short, let us suppose them, if our vanity will permit the supposition, as superior to us in knowledge, and consequently in power, as the Em-opeans were to the Indians, when they first discovered them. AH this is very possible ; it is only oux self-sufiiciency that makes us think otherwise ; and I warrant the poor savages, before they had any knowledge of the white men, armed in aU the terrors of ghttering steel and tremendous gunpowder, were as perfectly conviuced that they themselves were the wisest, the most virtuous, powerful, and 52 A HIS TOE T OF A'EW-TOnK. perfect of created beings, as are at this present moment the lordly inhabitants of Old England, the volatile populace of France, or even the self-satisfied citizens of this most enlight- ened republic. Let us suppose, moreover, that the aerial voyagers, finding this planet to be nothing but a howhng wilderness, inhabited by us, poor savages and wild beasts, shall take formal posses- sion of it in the name of his most gracious and phUosophi ; excellency, the man iu the moon. Fiadiag, however, thao their numbers are iacompetent to hold it in complete subjec- tion, on accoimt of the ferocious barbarity of its inhabitants, they shall take our worthy President, the King of England, the Emperor of Hayti, the mighty Bonaparte, and the great Ejng of Bantam, and returniug to their native planet, shall carry them to court, as were the Indian chiefs led about as spectacles in the courts of Europe. Then making such obeisance as the etiquette of the court re- quires, they shall address the puissant man ia the moon, in, as near as I can conjecture, the following terms: "Most "serene and mighty Potentate, whose dominions ex- tend as far as eye can reach, who rideth on the Great Bear, iseth the sun as a looking-glass, and maintaineth imrivalled control over tides, madmen, and sea-crabs : We, thy liege sub- jects, have just returned from a voyage of discovery, in the coarse of which we have landed and taken possession of that obscure little dirty planet which thou beholdest rolling at a distance. The five uncouth monsters which we have brought into this august presence were once very important chiefs among their feUow-savagos, who are a race cf beings totally destitute of the common attributes of humanity ; and diflEering in every thing from the inhabitants of the moon, inasmuch as they carry their heads upon their shoulders, instead of under their arms — have two eyes instead of one— are utterly destitute of tails, and of a variety of unseemly complexions, particularly of a horrible whiteness — instead of pea-green. "We have, moreover, found these miserable savages sunk into a state of the utmost ignorance and depravity, every man shamelessly hving with his own wife, and rearing his own children, instead of indulging in that community of wives en- joined by the law of nature, as expounded by the philosophers of the moon. In a word, they have scarcely a gleam of true philosophy among them, but are, in fact, utter heretics, igno- ramuses, and barbarians. Taking compassion, therefore, on A EISTORY OF NEW-TORE. 53 the sad condition of these sublunary wretches, we have endea- voured, while ws remained on their planet, to introduce among them the Hght ox reason — and the comforts of the moon. We have treated them to mouthfuls of moonshine, and draughts of nitrous oxyde, which thoy swallowed with incredible vora^ city, particularly the females; and we have likewise endea- voured to instil into them the precepts of lunar philosophy. We have insisted upon their renouncing the contemptible shackles of religion and common sense, and adoring the pro- found, omnipotent, and ail-perfect energy, and the ecstatic, immutable, immoveable perfection. But such was the un- paralleled obstinacy of these wretched savages, that they per- sisted in cleaving to their wives, and adhering to then* religion, and absolutely set at nought the sublime doctrines of the moon — nay, among other abominable heresies, they even went so far as blasphemously to declare, that this ineffable planet was made of nothing more nor less than green cheese!" At these words, the great man in the moon (being a very profound philosopher) shall faU into a terrible passion, and possessing equal authority over things that do not belong to him, as did whUome his hoUness the Pope, shall forthwith issue a formidable bull, specifying, ' ' That, whereas a certain crew of Limatics have lately discovered, and taken possession of, a newly-discovered planet called the earth — and that whereas it is inhabited by none but a race of two-legged animals, that carry their heads on their shoulders instead of under their arms ; cemnot talk the lunatic language ; have two eyes instead of one; are destitute of tails, and of a horrible whiteness, instead of pea-green — therefore, and for a variety of other ex- cellent reasons, they are considered incapable of possessing any property in the planet they infest, and the right and title to it are confirmed to its original discoverers.— And further- more, the colonists who are now about to depart to the afore- said planet are authorized and commanded to use every means to convert these infidel savages from the darkness of Chris- tianity, and make them thorough and absolute Lunatics." In consequence of this benevolent bull, our philosophic bene- factors go to work with hearty zeal. They seize upon our fertUe territories, scourge us from our rightful possessions, relieve us from our wives, and when we are unreasonable enough to complain, they will turn upon us, and say : Miserable barbarians I ungrateful wretches ! have we not come thousands of miles to improve your worthless planet? have we not fed 64 ^ msroRT OF new-tork. you witii moonshine? have we not intoxicated you with nitrous oxyde? does not our moon give you hght every night, and have you the baseness to murmur, when we claim a piti- ful return for aU these benefits? But finding that we not only persist in absolute contempt of their reasoning and disbelief in their philosophy, but even go so far as daringly to defend our property, their patience shall be exhausted, and they shall resort to their superior powers of argument; himt us with hippogriffis, transfix us with concentrated sun-beams, demoMsh our cities with moon-stones ; until having, by main force, con- verted us to the true faith, they shall graciously permit us to exist in the torrid deserts of Arabia, or the frozen regions of Lapland, there to enjoy the blessings of civilization and the charms of lunar philosophy, in much the same manner as the reformed and enhghtened savages of this country are kiadly suffered to inhabit the inhospitable forests of the north, or the impenetrable wildernesses of South America. Thus, I hope, I have clearly proved, and strikingly illus- trated, the right of the early colonists to the possession of this country; and thus is this gigantic question completely van- quished: so having raanCully surmounted all obstacles, and subdued all opposition, what remains but that I should forth- with conduct my readers into the city which we have been so long in a manner besieging? But hold — before I proceed another step, I must pause to take breath, and recover from the excessive fatigue I have undergone, in preparing to begin this most accurate of histories. And in this I do but imitate the example of a renowned Dutch tumbler of antiquity, who took a start of three miles for the purpose of jumping over a hiU, but having run himself out of breath by the time he reached the foot, sat himself quietly down for a few moments to blow, and then walked over it at his leisure. A mSTORY OF NEW-TORK. 55 BOOK II. TREATING OF THE FIRST SETTLEMENT OF THE PROVINCE OF NIEUW-NEDERLANDTS. CHAPTER I. IN WHICH ARE CONTAINED DIVERS REASONS WHY A MAN SHOULD NOT WRITE ra A HURRY. ALSO, OP MASTER HENDRICK HUD- SON, HIS DISCOVERY OF A STRANGE COUNTRY — AND HOW HE WAS MAGNIFICENTLY REWARDED BY THE MUNIFICENCE OF THEIR HIGH MIGHTINESSES. My great-grandfatlier, by the mother's side, Hermanus Van Clattercop, when employed to biiild the large stone church at Rotterdam, which stands about three hundred yards to your left after you turn ofE from the Boomkeys, and which is so conveniently constructed, that aU 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 hmidred 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 trek- schuit, 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 fuU sight of the identical spot whereon the chm-ch was to be bmlt. 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 C6 ^ BISTORT OF NEW- YORK. bird's-eye glance at it, from the top of one of those gigantic •windmills which protect the gates of the city. The good folks of the nlace were on the tiptoe of expectation and impatience — notwithstanding all the turmoil of my great-grandfather, not a S3rmptom 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 he down and die in labom- of the mighty plan he had conceived. At length, having occu- pied twelve good months in puflBng and paddhng, and talking and walking — having travelled over all HoUand, 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-grandfa,ther gathered to- gether aU 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 commence- ment 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 Rotterdamers no doubt thought my great-grandfather was doing nothing at aU to the ■purpose, while he was making such a world of prefatory bustle, about the building of his church— and many of the in- genious inhabitants of this fail- city will unquestionably sup- pose that all the preliminary chapters, with the discovery, population, and final settlement of America, were totally irre- levant and superfluous — and that the main business, the his- tory of New York, is not a jot more advanced than if I had Dever taken up my pen. Never were wise people more mis- taken in their conjectures ; in consequence of going to work slowly and deUberately, the church came out of my grand- father's hands one of the most sumptuous, goodly, and glorious edifices in the known world — excepting that, like our magni- ficent capitol, at Washington, it was begun on so grand a scale that the good folks could not afford to finish more than the wing of it. So, hkewise, I trust, if ever I am able to finish this work on the plan I have commenced, (of which, in simple truth, I sometimes have my doubts,) it will be found that I have pursued the latest rules of my art, as exemphficd in the writings of aU the great American historians, and wrought a very large history out of a small subject — which now-a-days is A HISTORY OF AEWrTOBK 67 considered one of the great triumphs of historic skill. To pro- coed, then, with the thread of my story. In the ever-memorahle year of oui- Lord, 1609, on a Satur- day morning, the five-and- twentieth day of March, old style, did .that ' ' worthy and irrecoverable discoverer, (as he has justly been called,) Master Henry Hudson," set sail from Holland in a stout vessel called the Half Moon, being employed by the Dutch East India Company, to seek a north-west passage to China. Henry (or, as the Dutch historians call him, Hendrick) Hudson, was a sea- faring man of renown, who had learned to smoke tobacco under Sir Walter Ealeigh, and is said to have been the first to introduce it into Holland, which gained him much popularity in that country, and caused him to find gi-eat favour in the eyes of their High Mightinesses, the Lords States General, and also of the honourable West India Company. He was a short, square, brawny old gentleman, with a double chin, a mastiff mouth; and a broad copper nose, which was supposed in those days to have acquired its fiery hue from the constant neighbourhood of his tobacco-pipe. He wore a true Andrea Ferrara, tucked in a leathern belt, and a commodore's cocked hat on one side of his head. He was remarkable for always jerking up his breeches when he gave out his orders; and his voice sounded not unlike the brattling of a tin tnmapet — owing to the munber of hard north-westers which he had swallowed in the coiu-se of his sea- faring. Such was Hendrick Hudson, of whom we have heard so much, and know so little : and I have been thus particular in his description, for the benefit of modern painters and statu- aries, that they may represent him as he was ; and not, accord- ing to their common custom with modem heroes, make him look like Csesar, or Marcus Aurelius, or the Apollo of Bclvi- dere. As chief mate and favourite companion, the commodore chose master Eobert Juet, of Limehouse, in England. By some his name has been spelled Chewit, and ascribed to the circumstance of his having been the first man that ever chewed tobacco; but this I believe to be a mere flippancy; more especially as certain of his progeny are living at this day, who write their name Juet. He was an old comrade and early schoolmate of the groat Hudson, with whom he had often played truant and sailed chip boats in a neighbouring pond, when they were httle boys — from whence it is said the 58 ^ mSTORT OF NEW- YOLK. commodore first derived his bias towards a sea-faring life. Certain it is, that the old people about Limehouse declared Eobert Juet to be an unlucky urchin, prone to mischief, that would one day or other come to the gaUows. He grew up as boys of that kind often grow up, a rambling, heedless varlet, tossed about in all quarters of the world — meeting with more perils and wonders than did Sindbad the Sailor, without growing a whit more wise, prudent, or ill- natured. Under every misfortune, he comforted himself with a quid of tobacco, and the truly philosophic maxim, that ' ' it will be all the same thing a hundred years hence." He was skilled in the art of carving anchors and true-lovers' knots on the bulk-heads and quarter-railings, and was considered a great wit on board ship, in consequence of his playing pranks on every body around, and now and then even making a wry face at old Hendrick, when his back was turned. To this universal genius are we indebted for many parti- culars concerning this voyage ; of which he wrote a history, at the request of the commodore, who had an unconquerable aversion to writing himseK, frcna having received so many floggings about it when at school. To supply the deficiencies of master Juet's journal, which is written with true log-book brevity, I have availed myself of divers family traditions, handed down from my great-great-grandfather, who accom- panied 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. Suffice it 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 sourkrout, and every man was allowed to sleep quietly at his post unless the wind blew. True it is, some slight disaffection was shown on two or three occasions, at certain unreasonable conduct of Com- modore 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. Ho acted, moreover, in direct contradiction to that ancient and sage rule of the Dutch navi- A HISTORY OF MEW- YORK 59 gators, "who alwas took in sail at night — put the hehn a-port, and turned in— by which precaution they had a good night's rest — were sure oi: knowing wliarethey were the next morning, and stood hut Uttle chance of running down a continent in the dark. He hkewise 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 in- variable Dutch custom at the present day. All these griev- ances, though they might ruffle for a moment the constitu- tional tranquillity of the honest Dutch tars, made but transient impression; they eat hugely, drank profusely, and slept im- measurably, and being under the especial guidance of Pro- vidence, the ship was safely conducted to the coast of America; where, after sundry unimportant touciiings and standings oft 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.* 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 admi- , ration. He is said to have turned to master Juet, and * True it is — and I am not ignorant of tlie fact, that in a certain apocryphal hook of voyages, compiled by one Hakluyt. 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 deliprhtful bay had been visited nearly a century previous to the voj-age of the enterprising Hudson. Now this (albeit it has met with the coun- tenance of certain very judicious and learned men) I hold in utter disbelief, and that for various good and substantial reasons: First, Because on strict examina- tion it will be found, that the description given by this Verazzani applies about as well to the bay of New-Tork 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 wilos of these losel Florentines, by which they filched away the laurels from the brows of the immortal Colon, (vulgrr- ly called Columbus,) and bestowed them on their officious townsman, Amerigo Vespucci; and I make no doubt they are equally ready to rob the illustrious Hud- son of the credit of discovering this beautiful 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, in- asmuch as his expedition sailed from Holland, being truly and absolutely a Dutch enterprise — and though all the proofs in the world were introduced on the other side, I would set them at nought, as undeserving my attention. If these three reasons be not sufficient to satisfy every burgher ol this ancient city— all I can say is, they are degenerate descendants from their venerable Dutch ancestors, and totally unworthy the ti-ouble of convincing. Thus, therefore, the title of Hendrick Hudson to his renowned discovery is fully vindicated. 60 ^ HISTORY OF NXW-TOBK. uttered these remarkable words, while he pointed towaxds this paradise of the new world — "See! there!" — and there- upon, as was always his way when he was uncommonly pleased, he did puflE 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 bom — "it was indeed a spot on which the eye might have revelled for ever, in ever-new and never-ending beauties."' The island of Mannahata spread wide before them, Uke 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 foUage 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 brier, whose scarlet berries and white blossoms' glowed brightly among the deep green of the surrounding fohage; and here and there a curhng column of Em.oke 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 gailant 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 astonish- ment 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 ats dried cur- rants ; how they brought great store of tobacco and oysters ; how they shot one of Uhe- 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 refresh themselves after their sea-faring, our voyagers weighed anchor, to explore a mighty river which emptied into the bay. This rivor, it is said, was known among the savages A HISTORY OF NEW-YORK. 61 by the name of the Shatemuck; though we are assured, in an excellent little history pubUshed in 1G74, by John Josselyn, Gent., that it was called the Mohegan,'* and master Eichard Bloome, who wrote some time afterwards, asserts the same— so that I very much inchne in favour of the opinion of these two honest gentlemen. Be this as it may, up this river did the adventurous Hendrick proceed, hvtle doubting but it would turn out to be the much-looked-f or 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 unpertinent to my history, I shall pass over them in silence, except the following dry joke, played off by the old commodore and his school-feUow, Robert Juct, which does such vast credit to their experimental philo- sophy, that I cannot refrain from, inserting it. ' ' Our master and his mate determined to try some of the chief e men of the countrey, whether they had any treacherie in them. So thsy tooke them downe into the cabin and gave them so much wine and aqua vitse, 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 been there, and that was strange to them, for they coiild not teU how to take it. "+ Having Satisfied himself by this ingenious experiment, that the natives were an honest, social race of joUy 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 mas- ter 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-compla- cency. After saihng, however, above a hundred miles up the river, he found the watery world around him began to grow more shallow and confined, the current more rapid, and per- fectly fresh — phenomena not uncommon in the ascent of rivers, but which puzzled the honest Dutchmen prodigiously. A consultation was therefore called, and having dehborated full six hours, they were brought to a determination, by the ship's running aground — whereupon they unanimously con- * This river is likewise laid down in Ogilvy's map as Manhattan— Noordt — Mon- taigne and Mauritius river. t Juet's Jouim. Puroll. HL 62 ^ HI6T0RT OF NEW-TORK. eluded, that there was but little chance of getting to China id. this direction. A boat, however, was despatched 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 difflciilty, being, like most of her sex, exceedingly hard to govern; and the adventurous Hudson, according to the ac- count of my great-great-grandfather, returned down the river — with a prodigious flea ui his ear ! Being satisfied that there was little likelihood of getting to China, unless, Uke the bhnd man, he returned from whence he set out, and took a fresh start, he forthwith recrossed the sea to HoUand, where he was received with great welcome by the honourabls East India Company, who 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 munifi- cent 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. CHAPTER n. CONTAINING AN ACCOUNT OP A MIGHTY ARK, WHICH FLOATED, UNDER. THE PROTECTION OF ST. NICHOLAS, FROM HOLLAND TO GIBBET ISLAND — THE DESCENT OF THE STRANGE ANIMALS THERE- FROM — A GREAT VICTORY, AND A DESCRIPTION OF THE ANCIENT VILLAGE OP COMMUNIPAW. 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, from whence did spring the great city of Albany. But I forbear to dwell on the various commercial and colonizing enterprises 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 A HISTORY OF NEW- YORK. 63 shall barely confine myself to that which gave birth to this re- nowned city. It was some three or four years after the return of the im- mortal Hendrick, that a crew of honest, Low Dutch colonists set saU 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 noglect of the noble art of book-making, since so industriously cultivated by knowing sea-captains, and learned supercargoes, that an expedition so interesting and important in its results, should be 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 fuU determination, as he said, of ending his days here — and of be- getting 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 Goecle Vrouw, or good woman, in compliment to the wife of the President of the West India Company, who was al- lowed by every body (except her husband) to be a sweet-tem- pered lady — when not in hquor. It was in truth a most gallant vessel, of the most approved Dutch construction, and made by the ablest ship-carpenters of Amsterdam, who, it is weU known, always model their ships after the fair forms of their country- women. Accordingly, it had one hundred feet in the beam, one hundred feet in the keel, and one hundred feet from the bottom of the stem-post to the tafEerel. Like the beauteous model, who was declared to be the greatest belle in Amster- dam, it was fuU in the bows, with a pair of enormous cat- heads, a copper bottom, and, withaJ, a most prodigious poop I The architect, who was somewhat of a rehgious 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 shipwreck of many a noble vessel,) he, I say, on the contrary, did laudably erect for a nead, 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 bowsprit. 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, rang a triple bobmajor on the joyful occasion. My great-great-grandfather remarks, that the voyage was 64 ^ HISTORY OF NEW-TORR. uncommonly prosperous, for, being under the especial care of the ever-revered St. Nicholas, the Goede Vrouw seemed to bo endowed with quahties 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 cahn ; 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. Here lifting up their eyes, they beheld, on what is at present called the Jersey shore, a small Indian village, pleasantly em- bowered in a grove of spreading elms, and the natives all col- lected on the beach, gaziag in stupid admiration at the Goede Vrouw. A boat was immediately despatched to enter into a treaty with them, and approaching the shore, hailed them through a trumpet in most friendly terms; but so horribly con- founded were these poor savages at the trem.endous and uncouth sound of the Low Dutch language, that they one and all took to their heels, and scampered over the Bergen hQls ; nor did they stop imtU they had buried themselves, head and ears, ia tha 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 Rattlesnake Hill, which rises out of the centre of the salt marshes, a little to the east of the Newark Cause- way. Animated by this unlooked-for victory, our valiant heroes sprang ashore in triumph, took possession of the soil as con- querors in the name of their High Mightinesses the Lords States General ; and marching fearlessly forward, carried the village of CoMMxnsriPAW by storm, notwithstanding that it was vigor- ously defended by some half-a-score of old squaws and pap- pooses. 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 dikes and dams ; the shallowness of the shore was peculiarly favourable to the building of docks — ^in a word, this spot abounded with all the requisites for the foundation of a great Dutch city. On making a faithful report, therefore, to the crew of the Goedc Vrouw, they one and aU determined that A HISTORY OF NEW- YORK. 65 this was the destined encl 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 aU the world is doubtless perfectly acquainted with Oom- munipaw, 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 satisfy the present age, yet I write hkewise 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 m- valuable history, the great Oommunipaw, like Babylon, Car- thage, Nineveh, and other great cities, might be perfectly ex- tinct — sunk and forgotten in its own mud — its inhabitants turned into. oysters,* and even its situation a fertile subject of learned controversy and hard-headsd investigation among in- defatigable historians. Let me then piously rescue from ob- livion the humble relics of a place which was the egg frorr. whence was hatched the mighty city of New-Tork ! Communipaw is at present but a small vUlage pleasantly sit- uated, among rural scenery, on that beauteous part of the Jer- sey 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 saU 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 stiU 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 hoUday clothes on. These negroes, in fact, hke the monks in the dark ages, engross all the knowledge of the place, and being infinitely * Men by inaction degenerate into oysters. — Knimes. t Pavonia, in the ancient maps, is given to a tract of country extending from about Hoboken to Amboy. 66 A BISTORT OP NEW- YORK. moro adventurous and more knowing^ than their masters, carry on all the foreign trade ; maldng frequent voyages to town in canoes loaded with oysters, butteriidlk, and cabbages. They are great astrologers, predicting the different changes of weather almost as accurately as an ahnanac — they are more- over exquisite performers on tnree-stringed fiddles : in whis- tling, they almost boast the far-famed powers of Orpheus's lyre, for not a horse or an ox in the place, when at the plough or before the wagon, will budge a foot until he hears the well- known whistle of his black driver and companion. — And from then- amazing skill at casting up accounts upon their fingers, they are regarded with as much veneration as were the disci- ples of Pythagoras of yore, when initiated into the sacred qua- ternary of numbers. As to the honest biorghers of Communipaw, hke wise men and sound philosophers, they never look beyond their pipes, nor trouble their heads about any affairs out of their iuraiedi&te neighbourhood; so that they live in profound and enviable ignorance ot 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-dcvil and the Narrows are the two ends of the world — that the country is stUl imder the dominion of their High Irlightinesses, and that the city of New- York still goes by the name of Nieuw- Amsterdam. They meet every Saturday after- noon 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 Van 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 httle villages m the vicinity of this most beautiful of cities, which are so many strong-holds and fastnesses, whither the primitive man- ners of our Dutch forefathers have retreated, and where they are cherished with devout and scruptdous 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 gallant display in the days of the patriarchs of Communipaw. Tlie language Ukewise continxies A BISTORT OF NEW- YORK 67 unadulterated by barbarous innovations ; and so critically cor- rect is the vUlage schoolmaster ia his dialect, that his reading of a Low Dutch psalm has much the same effect on the nerves as the filing of a handsaw. CHAPTER ni. IN WHICH IS SET FORTH THE TRUE ART OF MAKING A BARGAIN — TOGETHER WITH THE MIRACULOUS ESCAPE OP A GREAT ME- TROPOLIS IN A FOG — AND THE BIOGRAPHY OF CERTAIN HEROES OF COMMUNIPAW. Having, in the trifling digression which concluded the last chapter, discharged the fihal duty which the city of New-York owed to Commimipaw, 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 settle- ment went jollily on, increasing in magnitude and prosperity. The neighbouring Indians in a short time became accustomed to the uncouth sound of the Dutch language, and an inter- course 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 buU, the wabash, and the great spirit, to which the others would hsten very attentively, snioke their pipes, and grunt yah, myn-her — whereat the poor savages were wondrously 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 taught them the art of making bargains. A brisk trade for furs was soon opened : the Dutch traders were scrupulously honest in their deahngs, and purchased by weight, estabUshing it as an invariable table of avoirdupois, that the hand of a Dutchman weighed one pound, and his foot two pounds. It is true, the simple Indians were often puzzled by the great disproportion between bulk and weight, for let them place a bundle of furs, never so large, in one scale, and a 68 ^ HISTORY OF NEW- YORK. Dutcliinan 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 Comnuuiipaw ! ! 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 imcommon 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, as the sage Vander Donck observes, of their great resemblance to the Dutch Netherlands— which indeed was tnJy remarkable, excepting that the former were rugged and mountainous, and the latter level and marshy. About this time the tranquilhty of the Dutch colonists was doomed to suffer a temporary in- terruption. In 1614, Captaia Sir Samuel Argal, sailiug under a commiasion from Dale, governor of Virginia, visited the Dutch settlements on Hudson Eiver, and demanded their submission to the Enghsh crown and Virginian dominion. To this arro- gant 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 settle- ment 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 ances- tors 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 A BISTORT OP NEW-TORK. 69 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 despatch them on a voyage of dis- covery; to search if, peradventure, some more sure and for- midable position might not be found, where the colony would be less subject to vexatious visitations. This perilous enterprise was intrusted to the superintendence of Mynheers OlofEe Van Kortlandt, Abraham Hardenbroeck, Jacobus Van Zandt, and Winant Ten Broeck — fom- indubitably great men, but of whose history, although I have made diligent inquiry, I can learn but httle, previous to their leaving Hol- land. Nor need this occasion much surprise ; for adventurers, like prophets, though they make great noise abroad, have sel- dom much celebrity in their own countries ; but this much is certain, that the overflowings and offscourings of a country are invariably composed of the richest parts of the soU. And here I cannot help remarking how convenient it would be to many of our great men and great famihes 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 venal tres- pass on the truth, though it has occasionally been played off by some pseudo marquis, baronet, and other illustrious for- eigner, in our land of good-natured creduhty, has been com- pletely discountenanced in this sceptical matter-of-fact age— and I even question whether any tender virgin, who was acci- dentally and unaccountably enriched with a bantUng, would save her character at parlour firesides and evening tea-parties by ascribing the phenomenon to a swan, a shower of gold, or a river-god. Thus being 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 particiilars concerning; the adventurers in question. Van Kort- landt, for instance, was one of those peripatetic philosophers who tex Providence for a hvelihood, and, hke Diogenes, enjoy a free and unencumbered estate in sunshine. He was usually arrayed in garments suitable to his fortune, being curiously fringed and f angled by the hand of time ; and was hehneted 70 ^ IIISrOET OF NEt'-TOllK. with an old fragment of a hat, which had acquired the shape of a sugar-loaf ; 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 ho 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 yo\ir nobUity of Europe, he took his name of Kortlandt (or lackland) from his landed estate, which lay somewhere 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 lament- ed, I should have made honourable m.ention, as boasting equally illustrious pedigree with the proudest hero of antiquity. His name of Van Zandt, which, being freely translated, signifies, from the dirt, meaning, beyond a doubt, that, like Triptole- mus, Themis, the Cyclops and the Titans, he sprang from dame Terra, or the earth ! This supposition is strongly corroborated by his size, for it is well known that aU 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 aston- ishing hard head. Nor is this origin of the illustrious Van Zandt a whit more improbable or repugnant to behef than what is related and miiversaUy admitted of certain of our greatest, or rather richest men ; who, we are told with the ut- most gravity, did originally spring from a dunghill ! Of the third hero, but a faint description has reached to this time, which mentions that he was a sturdy, obstinate, burly, bustling little man : and from being usually equipped with an old pair of buckskins, was famiharly dubbed Harden Broeck, or Tough Breeches. Ten 'Broeck completed this junto of adventurers. It is a cingular, but ludicrous fact, which, were I not scrupulous in recording the whole truth, I shoidd almost be tempted to pass over in silence, as incompatible with the gravity and dignity of 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 aU probability to its re8.11y being the largest article of raiment among them. The name of Ten Broeck, or Tin Broeck, is indifferently translated into Ten Breeches and Tin Breeches^ A BISTORT OF J\'EW-T0JIK. 71 the High Dutch commentators inchiie to the f onnei- 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 : " Then "vvhy should we quarrel for riches, Or any such g:littering toys ? A liprht heart and fhiit pair of breeches. Will go through the world, my brave boysl" Such was the gaUant junto chosen to conduct this voyage into unknown, realms ; and the whole was put under the super- intending care and direction of Oloffe Van Kortlandt, who was held in great reverence among the sages of Commimipaw, for the variety and darkness of his knowledge. Having, as I before observed, passed a great part of his life in the open air, among the peripatetic philosophers of Amsterdam, he had become amazingly well acquainted with the aspect of the heavens, and could as accurately determine when a storm was brewing, or a squall rising, as a dutiful husband can foresee, from the brow of his spouse, when a tempest is gathering about his ears. He was moreover a great seer of ghosts and gobUns, and a firm believer in omens; but what especially recommended him to pubhc confidence was his marvellous talent at dreaming, for there never was anything of conse- quence happened at Communipaw but what he declared he had previously dreamt it ; being one of those infallible prophets who always predict events after they have come to pass. This supernatural gift was as highly valued among the burghers of Pavonia, as it was among the enhghtened nations of antiquity. The wise Ulysses was more indebted to his sleeping than his waking moments for all his subtle achieve- ments, and seldom undertook any great exploit without first soundly sleeping upon it ; and the same may truly be said of the good Van Kortlandt, who was thence aptly denominated, Oloffe the Dreamer. This cautious commander, having chosen the crews that should accompany him in the proposed expedition, exhorted them to repair to their homes, take a good night's rest, settle all family affairs, and make their wiUs, before departing on 72 A BISTORT OF NEW-TORE. this voyage into tmknown realms. And indeed this last "vraS a precaution always taken by our forefathers, even in after times, when they became more adventurous, and voyaged to Haverstraw, or KaatskLU, or Groodt Esopus, or any other far country that lay beyond the great waters of the Tappaan Zee. CHAPTER IV. HOW THE HEROES OF COMMUNIPAW VOYAGED TO HELlrGATE, AND HOW THET WERE RECEIVED THERE. And now the rosy blush of mom began to mantle in the east, and soon the rising sun, emerging from amidst golden and purple clouds, shed his bhthesom.e rays on the tin weather- cocks of Corumunipaw. 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 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 dew that gemmed the tender grass of the m.eadows, joiued in the joyous epithala- miiun — the virgin bud timidly put forth its blushes, "the voice of the turtle was heard in the land, " and the heart of man dissolved away in tenderness. Oh! sweet Theocritus! had I thine oaten reed, wherewith thou erst did charm the gay SicOian plains. — Or, oh! gentle Bion! thy pastoral pipe, wherein the happy swains of the Lesbian isle so much de- lighted, then might I attempt to sing, in soft Bucohc or negli- gent IdyUium, the rural beauties of the scene — ^but having nothing, save this jaded goose-quill, wherewith to wing my flight, I must fain resign all poetic disportings of the fancy, and pursue my narrative in himable prose ; comforting myself with the hope, that though it may not steal so sweetly upon the imagination of my reader, yet may it commend itself, with virgin modesty, to his better judgment, clothed in the chaste and simple garb of truth. \ No sooner did the first rays of cheerful- Phoebus dart into the windows of Communipaw, than the little settlement was all in motion. Forth issued from his castle the sage Van Kortlandt, A HISTORY OF NEW- YORK. 73 and seizing a conch-shell, blew a far-resounding blast, that soon summoned all his lusty followers. Then did they trudge resolutely down to the water-side, escorted by a multitude of relatives and friends, who aU went down, as the common phrase expresses it, "to see them off." And this shows the antiquity of those long family processions, often seen in our city, composed of all ages, sizes, and sexes, laden with bundles, and bandboxes, escorting some bevy of country cousios about to depart for home in a market-boat. The good Oloffe bestowed his forces in a squadron of three canoes, and hoisted his flag on board a httle round Dutch boat, shaped not unhke a tub, which had formerly been the joUy- boat of the Goede Vrouw. And now all being embarked, they bade farewell to the gazing throng upon the beach, who con- tinued shouting after them, even when out of hearing, wishing tbem a happy voyage, advising them to take good care of themselves, and not to get drowned — with an abundance other of those sage and invaluable cautions, generally given by landsmen to such as go down to the sea in ships, and adven- ture upon the deep waters. In the meanwhile, the voyagers cheerily urged their course across the crystal bosom of the bay, and soon left behind them the green shores of ancient Pavonia. And first they touched at two small islands which he nearly opposite Communipaw, and which are said to have been brought into existence about the time of the great irruption of the Hudson, when it broke through the Highlands, and made its way to the ocean.* Kor in this tremendous uproar of the waters, we are told that many huge fragments of rock and land were rent from the mountains and swept down by this runaway river for sixty or seventy miles ; where some of them ran aground on the shoals just opposite Communipaw, and formed the identical islands in question, while others drifted out to sea and were never heard of more. A sufficient proof * It is a matter long since established by certain of our philosophers, that is to say, having: been often advanced, and never contradicted, it has grown to be pretty nigh equal to a settled fact, that the Hudson was originally a lake, dammed up by the mountains of the Highlands. In process of time, however, becoming very mighty and obstreperous, and the mountains waxing pursy, dropsical, and weak in the back, by reason of their extreme old age, it suddenly rose upon them, and after a violent struggle effected its escape. This is said to have come to pass in very remote time; probably before that, rivers had lost the art of running up hill. The foregoing is a theory in which I do not pretend to be skilled, notwith- standing that I do fully give it my belief. 74 A HISTORY OF NEW- TORS'. of the fact is, that the rock which forms the bases of these islands is exactly similar to that of the Highlands, and, more- over, one of our philosophers, who has diligently compared the agreement of their respective surfaces, has even gone so far as to assure me, in confidence, that Gibbet Island was originally nothing more nor less than a wart on Anthony's Nose.* Leaving these wonderful Uttle isles, they next coasted by Governor's Island, since terrible from its frowning fortress and grinning batteries. They woiild by no means, however, land upon this island, since they doubted much it might be the abode of demons and spirits, which in those days did greatly abound throughout this savage and pagan country. Just at this time a shoal of joUy porpoises came rolling and tumbling by, turning up their sleek sides to the sun, and spout- ing up the briny element in sparkling showers. No sooner did the sage Oloffe mark this, than he was greatly rejoiced. "This," exclaimed he, "if I mistake not, augurs well — the por- poise is a fat, well-conditioned fish — a burgomaster among fishes — his looks betoken ease, plenty, and prosperity — I greatly admire this round, fat fish, and doubt not but this is a happy omen of the success of our undertaking." So say- ing, he directed his squadron to steer in the track of these alderman fishes. Turning, therefore, directly to the left, they swept up the strait vulgarly called the East River. And here the rapid tide which courses through this strait, seizing on the gallant tub in which Commodore "Van Kortlandt had embarked, hur- ried it forward with a velocity unparalleled in a Dutch boat, navigated by Dutchmen ; insomuch that the good commodore, who had all his life long been accustomed only to the drowsy navigation of canals, was more than ever convinced that they were in the hands of some supernatural power, and that the jolly porpoises were towing them to some fair haven that was to fulfil all their wishes and expectations. Thus borne away by the resistless current, they doubled that boisterous point of land since called Corlear's Hook,t and leav- ing to the right the rich winding cove of the Wallabout, they drifted into a magnificent expanse of water, surrounded by pleasant shores, whose verdure was exceedingly refreshing to the eye. While the voyagers were looking around them, on * A promontory in the Hifflilands. + Properly spelt /loecfc, (i. e., a point of land.) A IJISTOUT OF NEW- YORK. 75 ■what they conceived to be a serene and sunny lake, they beheld at a distance a crew of painted savages, busily em- ployed in fishing, who seemed more like the genii of this romantic region — their slender canoe hghtly balanced like a feather on the undula-ting surface of the bay. At sight of these, the hearts of the heroes of Communipaw v7ore not a little troubled. But as good fortune would have it, at the bow of the commodore's boat was stationed a very vaUant man, named Hendrick Kip, (which being interpreted, means chicken, a name given him in token of his courage.) No sooner did he behold these varlet heathens than he trembled with excessive valour, and although a good half mile distant, he seized a musquetoon that lay at hand, and turning away his head, fired it most intrepidly in the face of the blessed sun. The blundering weapon recoiled and gave the valiant Kip an ignominious kick, that laid him prostrate with uphfted heels hi the bottom of the boat. But such was the effect of this tre- mendous fire, that the wild men of the woods, struck with con- sternation, seized hastily upon their paddles, and shot away into one of the deep inlets of the Long Island shore. Thin signal victory gave new spirits to the hardy voyagers, and in honour of the achievement they gave the name of the valiant Kip to the surrounding bay, and it has continued to bo called Kip's Bay from that time to the present. The heart of the good Van Kortlandt — who, having no land of his own, was a great admirer of other people's — expanded at the sumptuous prospect of rich, unsettled country around him, and falling into a dehcious reverie, he straightway began to riot in the possession of vast meadows of salt marsh and interminable patches of cabbages. From this delectable vision he was aU at once awakened by the sudden turning of the tide, which would soon have hurried him from this land of promise, had not the discreet navigator given sig-nal to steer for shore ; where they accordingly landed hard by the rocky heights of BeUevue — that happy retreat, where our jolly aldermen eat for the good of the city, and fatten the turtle that are sacrificed on civic solemnities. Here, seated on the greensward, by the side of a small stream that ran sparkling among the grass, they refreshed themselves after the toOs of the seas, by feasting lustily on the ample stores which they had provided for this perilous voyage. Thus having well fortified their deliberative powers, they fell into an earnest consultation, what was farther to be done. 76 ^ HISTORY OF NEW- YORK. This was the first council dinner ever eaten at Belloviio by Christian burghers, and here, as tradition relates, did originate the great family feud between the Hardenbroecks and the Ten- broecks, which afterwards had a singular influence on the building of the city. The sturdy Hardenbroeck, whose eyes had been wondrously delighted with the salt marshes that spread their reeking bosoms along the coast, at the bottom of Kip's Bay, counselled by all means to return thither, and foimd the intended city. This was strenuously opposed by the un- bending Ten Broeck, and many testy arguments passed be- tween them. The particulars of this controversy have not reached us, which is ever to be lamented ; this much is certaia, that the sage Oloffe put an end to the dispute, by determining to explore still farther in the route which the mysterious por- poises had so clearly pointed out — whereupon the sturdy Tough Breeches abandoned the expedition, took possession of a neigh- bouring hill, and in a fit of great wrath peopled all that tract of country, which has continued to be inhabited by the Harden- broecks unto this very day. By this time the jolly Phoebus, like some wanton urchin sporting on the side of a green hUl, began to roU down the declivity of the heavens ; and now, the tide having once more turned in their favour, the resolute Pavonians again coromitted themselves to its discretion, and coasting along the western shores, were borne towards the straits of Blackwell's Island. And here the capricious wanderings of the current occasioned not a Httle marvel and perplexity to these illustrious mariners. Now would they be caught by the wanton eddies, and, sweep- ing round a jutting point, would wind deep into some romantic little cove, that indented the fair island of Manna-hata ; now were they hurried narrowly by the very basis of impending rocks, mantled with the fiaunting grape-vine, and crowned with groves that threw a broad shade on the waves beneath ; and anon they were borne away into the mid-channel, and wafted along with a rapidity that very much discomposed the sage Van Kortlandt, who, as he saw the land swiftly receding on either side, began exceedingly to doubt that terra firina was giving them the slip. Wherever the voyagers turned their eyes, a new creation seemed to bloom around. No signs of hmnan thrift appeared to check the delicious wildness of nature, who here revelled in all her luxuriant variety. Those hiUs, now bristled, hke the fretful porcupine, with rows of poplars, (vain upstart plants! A HISTORY OF NKW-TORK. 77 minions of wealth and fashion !) were then adorned with the vigorous natives of the soil; the lordly oak, the generous chestnut, the graceful ehn— while here and there the tulip-tree reared its majestic head, the giant of the forest- Where now are seen the ga.y retreats of luxury — villas half buried in twi- light bowers, whence the amorous flute oft breathes the sighiags of some citj swain — there the fish-hawk built his soUtary nest, on some dry tree that overlooked his watery domain. The timid deer fed undisturbed along those shores now hallowed by the lovers' moonhght walk, and printed by the slender foot of beauty; and a savage sohtude extended over those happy regions where now are reared the stately towers of the Joneses, the Schermerhornes, and the Ehinelanders. Thus ghding lq silent wonder through these new and unknown scenes, the gallant squadron of Pavonia swept by the foot of a promontory that strutted forth boldly into the waves, and seemed to frown upon them as they brawled against its base. This is the bluff well known to modern mariners by the name of Grade's point, from the fair castle which, Mke an elephant, it carries upon its back. An.d here broke upon their view a wild and varied prospect, where land and water were beaute- ously iatermingled, as though they had combined to heighten and set off each other's charms. To their right lay the sedgy point of BlackweU's Island, drest in the fresh garniture of living green — beyond it stretched the pleasant coast of Sundswick, and the small harbour well known by the name of HaUet's Cove — a place infamous in latter days, by reason of its being the haunt of pirates who infest these seas, robbing orchards and watermelon patches, and insulting gentlemen navigators when voyaging in their pleasure-boats. To the left a deep bay, or rather creek, gracefully receded between shores fringed with forests, and forming a kind of vista, through which were be- held the sylvan regions of Haerlem, Morrisania, and East Chester. Here the eye reposed with deUght on a richly -wooded country, diversified by tufted knoUs, shadowy intervals, and waving Hnes of upland swelling above each other ; while over the whole the purple mists of spring diffused a hue of soft voluptuousness. Just before them the grand course of the stream, making a sudden bend, wound among embowered promontories and shores of emerald verdure, that seemed to melt into the wave. A character of gentleness and mild fertility prevailed aroimd. The sun had just descended, and the thin haze of twihght, Mke 78 A inSTORT OF NEW-YORK. a transparent veil drawn over the bosom of virgin beauty, heightened the charms which it half concealed. All! witching scenes of foul delusion! Ah! hapless voyagers, gazing with simple wonder on these Circean shores! Such, ■alas I are they, poor easy souls, who Usten to the seductions of a wicked world — treacherous are its smiles ! fatal its caresses ! He who yields to its enticements launches upon a whelming tide, and trusts his feeble bark among the dimpling eddies of a whirlpool ! And thus it fared with the worthies of Pavonia, who, little mistrusting the guileful scene before them, drifted quietly on, until they were aroused by an uncommon tossing and agitation of their vessels. For now the late dimplmg cur- rent began to brawl around them, and the waves to boil and foam with horrific fury. Awakened as if from a dream, the astonished OlofEe bawled aloud to put about, but his words were lost amid the roaring of the waters. And now ensued a scene of direful consternation— at one time they were borne with dreadful velocity among tumultuous breakers ; at another, hurried down boisterous rapids. Now they were nearly dashed upon the Hen and Chickens; (infamous rocks ! — more voracious than ScyUa and her whelps;) and anon they seemed sinking into yawning gulfs, that threatened to entomb them beneath the waves. AU the elements combined to produce a hideous confusion. The waters raged — the winds howled— and as they were hurried along, several of the astonished mariners beheld the rocks and trees of the neighbouring shores driving through tho air ! At length the mighty tub of Commodore Van Eortlandt was drawn into the vortex of that tremendous whirlpool called the Pot, where it was whirled aoout in giddy mazes, until the senses of the good commander and his crew were overpowered by the horror of the scene and the strangeness of the revolu- tion. How the gallant squadron of Pavonia was snatched from the jaws of this modern Charybdis, has never been truly made known, for so many survived to tell the tale, and, what is stiU more wonderful, told it in so many different ways, that there has ever prevailed a great variety of opinions on the subject. As to the commodore and his crew, when they came to their senses they found themselves stranded on the Long Island shore. The worthy commodore, indeed, used to relate many and wonderf 111 stories of his adventures in this time of peril ; how that he saw spectres flying in the air, and heard the yell- A HISTORY OF 2IEW-Y0RK. 79 ing of hobgoblins, and put his hand into the Pot when they were whirled around and found the water scalding hot, and beheld several uncouth-looking beings seated on rocks and ' skimming it with huge ladles — but particularly he declared, with great exultation, that he saw the losel porpoises, which had betrayed them into this peril, some broiling on the Gridiron and others hissing in the Frying-pan ! These, however, were considered by many as mere phantasies of the commodore's imagination, while he lay in a trance; especially as he was known to be given to dreaming; and the truth of them has never been clearly ascertained. It is certain, however, that to the accounts of OlofEe and his followers may be traced the various traditions handed down of this marvellous strait — as how the devil has been seen there, sitting astride of the Hog's Back and playing on the fiddle— how he broils fish there before a storm; and many other stories, in which we must be cautious of putting too much faith. In consequence of all these terrific circumstances, the Pavonian commander gave this pass the name of Helle-gat, or as it has been interpreted, Hell- Gate ; * which it continues to bear at the present day. CHAPTER V. HOW THE HEROES OF C01\lMUNn>AW KETUENED SOMEWHAT WISER THAN THEY WENT — AND HOW THE SAGE OLOFFE DREAMED A DREAM — AND THE DREAM THAT HE DREAMED. The darkness of night had closed upon this disastrous day, and a doleful night was it to the shipwrecked Pavonians, whose ears were incessantly assailed with the raging of the *This is a narrow strait in the Sound, at the distance of six miles above New- York. It is dangerous to shipping, unless under the care of skilful pilots, by rea.son of numerous rocks, shelves, and whirlpools. These have received sundry appella- tions, such as the Gridiron, Frying-pan, Hog's Back, Pot, &c., arid are very violent and turbulent at certain times of the tide. Certain wise men, who instruct these modern days, have softened the above characteristic name into Hurl-gate^ which means nothing. I leave them to give their own etymology. The name as given by our author is supported by tlie map in Vander Donck's history, published in 1656 — by Ogilvie's history of America, 1671 — as also by a journal still extant, written in the 16th century, and to be found in Hazard's State Papers. And an old MS., written in French, speaking of various alterations in names about this city, ob- serves, '* De Helle-gat trou d'Enfer, ils ont fait Hell-Gate, Porte d'Enfer." 80 -4 HISTORY OF NEW-TORK. elements, and the howling of the hobgoblins that infested this perfidious strait. But when the morning dawned, the horrors of the preceding evening had passed away ; rapids, breakers, and whirlpools had disappeared ; the stream again ran smooth and dimpling, and having changed its tide, rolled gently back, towards the quarter where lay their much-regretted home. The woe-begone heroes of Communipaw eyed each other with rueful countenances ; their squadron had been totally dispersed by the late disaster. Some were cast upon the western shore, where, headed by one Euleff Hopper, they took possession of all the country lying about the six-mile stone ; which is held by the Hoppers at this present writing. The Waldrons were driven by stress of weather to a distant coast, where, having with them a jug of genuine Hollands, they were enabled to conciliate the savages, setting up a kind of tavern ; from whence, it is said, did spring the fair town of Haerlem, in which their descendants have ever since con- tinued to be reputable publicans. As to the Suydams, they were thrown upon the Long Island coast, and may still be found in those parts. But the most singular luck attended the great Ten Broeck, who, falling overboard, was miraculously preserved from sinking by the multitude of his nether gar- ments. Thus buoyed up, he floated on the waves like a mer- man, or like the cork float of an angler, until he landed safely on a rock, where he was found the next morning, busily dry- ing his many breeches in the sunshine. I forbear to treat of the long consultation of our adventurers — ^how they determined that it would not do to found a city in this diabolical neighbourhood — and how at length, with fear and trembling, they ventured once more upon the briny ele- ment, and steered their course back for Communipaw. SuflBce it. in simple brevity, to say, that after toiling back through the scenes of their yesterday's voyage, they at length opened the southern poiat of Manna-hata, and gained a distant view of their beloved Communipaw. And here they were opposed by an obstinate eddy, that re- sisted all the efforts of the exhausted mariners. Weary and dispirited, they could no longer make head against the power of the tide, or rather, as some wiU have it, of old Neptune, who, anxious to guide them to a spot whereon should be founded his stronghold in this western world, sent half a score of potent billows, that rolled the tub of Commodore Van Korfr landt high and dry on the shores of Manna-hata. A EISTOBT OF NEW-TORR. 81 Having thus in a manner been guided by supernatural power to this delightful island, their first care was to light a fire at the foot of a large tree, that stood upon the point at present called the Battery. Then gathering together gTeat store of oysters which abounded en the shore, and emptying the contents of their wallets, they prepared and made a sump- tuous council repast. The worthy Van Kortlandt was observed to be particularly zealous ia his devotions to the trencher ; for having the cares of the expedition especially committed to his care, he deemed it incumbent on him to eat profoundly for the public good. In proportion as he filled himn elf to the very brim with the dainty viands before him, did the heart of this excellent burgher rise up towards his throat, until he seemed crammed and almost choked with good eating and good nature. And at such times it is. when a man's heart is in his throat, that he may more truly be said to speak from it, and his speeches abound with kindness and good-fellowship. Thus the worthy Oloffe having swallowed the last possible morsel, and washed it down with a fervent potation, felt his heart yearning, and his whole frame in a manner dilating with un- bounded benevolence. Every thing around him seemed excel- lent and delightful ; and, laying his hands on each side of his capacious periphery, and rolling his half-closed eyes arotmd on the beautiful diversity of land and water before him, he ex- claimed, in a fat half -smothered voice, "What a charming prospect !" The words died away in his throat — ^he seemed to ponder on the fair scene for a moment — his eyeUds heavily closed over their orbs — his head drooped upon his bosom — he slowly sunk upon the green tturf , and a deep sleep stole gradu- ally upon him. And the sage Oloffe dreamed a dream — and lo, the good St. Nicholas came riding over the tops of the trees, in that seK- same wagon wherein he brings his yearly presents to children, and he came and descended hard by where the heroes of Com- munipaw had made their late repast. And the shrewd Van Kortlandt knew him by his broad hat, his long pipe, and the resemblance which he bore to the figure on the bow of the Goede Vrouw. And he lit his pipe by the fire, and sat himself down and smoked ; and as he smoked, the smoke from his pipe ascended into the air, and spread like a cloud overhead. And Oloffe bethought him, and he hastened and cUmbed up to the top of one of the tallest trees, and saw that the smoke spread over a great extent of country— and as he considered it more 82 A UISTORY OF NEW-TORK. attentively, he fancied that the great volume of smoke as- sumed a vaiiety of marvellous forms, where in dim obscurity he saw shadowed out palaces and domes and lofty spires, aU of which lasted but a moment, and then faded away, until the whole rolled off, and nothing but the green woods were left. And when St. Nicholas had smoked his pipe, he twisted it in his hat-band, and laying his finger beside his nose, gave the astonished Van Kortlandt a very significant wink, then mount- ing his wagon, he returned over the tree-tops and disappeared. And Van Kortlandt awoke from his sleep greatly instructed, and he aroused his companions, and related to them his dream, and interpreted it, that it was the wUl of St. Nicholas that they should settle down and buUd the city here. And that the smoke of the pipe was a type how vast should be the extent of the city ; inasmuch as the volumes of its smoke should spread over a wide extent of country. And they all, with one voice, assented to this interpretation, excepting Mynheer Ten Broeck, who declared the meaning to be that it should be a city wherein a little fire should occasion a great smoke, or in other words, a very vapouring httle city — ^both which interpretations have strangely come to pass ! The great object of their perilous expedition, therefore, being thus happily accomplished, the voyagers returned merrily to Communipaw, where "they were received with great rejoicings. And here calling a general meeting of all the wise men and the dignitaries of Pavonia, they related the whole history of their voyage, and of the dream of Oloffe Van Kortlandt. And the people lifted up their voices and blessed the good St. Nicholas, and from that time forth the sage Van Kortlandt was held more in honour than ever, for his great talent at dreaming, and was pronounced a most useful citizen and a right good man — when he was asleep. CHAPTEE VI. CONTAINING AN ATTEMPT AT ETYMOLOGY — AND OF THE FOUND- ING OF THE GREAT CITY OF NEW-AMSTERDAM. The original name of the island wherein the squadron of Communipaw was thus propitiously thrown, is a matter of some dispute, and has already undergone considerable vitiation A insrouT OF new-torr. 83 — a. melancholy proof of the instability of all sublunary things, and the vanity of all oiu' hopes of lasting fame ! For who can expect his name wiU hve to posterity, when even the names of mighty islands are thus soon lost in contradiction and uncer- tainty? The name most current at the present day, and which is likewise countenanced by the great historian Vander Donck, is Manhattan ; which is said to have originated in a custom among the squaws, in the early settlement, of wearing men's hats, as is still done among m.any tribes. " Hence," as we are told by an old governor who was somewhat of a wag, and flourished almost a century since, and had paid a visit to the wits of Pliiladelphia, ' ' hence arose the appellation of man-hat- on, first given to the Indians, and afterwards to the island " — a stupid joke ! — but well enough for a governor. Among the more venerable sources of information on this subject, is that valuable history of the American possessions, written Dy Master Richard Blome in 1687, wnerein it is called Manhadaes and Manahanent ; nor must I forget the excellent little book, fidl of precious matter, of that authentic historian, JohnJosselyn, Gent., who expressly caUs it Manadaes. Another etymology still more ancient, and sanctioned by the countenance of our ever-to-be-lamented Dutch ancestors, is that found in certain letters still extant;* which passed be- tween the early governors and their neighbouring powers, wherein it is called indifferently Monhattoes— Munhatos, and Manhattoes, which are evidently unimportant variations of the same name; for our wise forefathers set little store by those niceties either in orthography or orthoepy which form the sole study and ambition of many learned men and women of this hypercritical age. This last name is said to be derived from, the great Indian spirit Manetho, who was supposed to make this island his favourite abode, on account of its uncom- mon dehghts. For the Indian traditions aflfirm that the bay was once a translucid lake, filled with silver and golden fish, in the midst of which lay this beautiful island, covered with every variety of fruits and flowers ; but that the sudden irrup- tion of the Hudson laid waste these bhssful scenes, and Manetho took his flight beyond the great waters of Ontario. These, however, are fabidous legends to which very cau- tious credence must be given; and although I am willing to * Vide Hazard's Col. State Papers. 84 A HISTORY OF NEW- YORK admit the last quoted orthography of the name, as'Very suit- able for prose, yet is there another one founded on stUi more ancient and indisputable authority, which I particularly de- hght in, seeing that it is at once poetical, melodious, and signi- ficant — and this is recorded in the before-mentioned voyage of the great Hudson, written 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 Tnilk and honey." It having been solemnly resolved that the seat of empire should be transferred from the green shores of Pavonia to this delectable island, a vast multitude eiubarked, and migrated across the mouth of the Hudson, under the guidance of Oloffe the Dreamer, who was appointed protector or patron to the new settlement. And hear let me bear testimony to the matchless honesty and magnanimity of our worthy forefathers, who purchased the soil of the native Indians before erecting a single roof — a circumstance singular and almost incredible in the annals of discovery and colonization. The first settlement was made on the south-west point of the island, on the very spot where the good St. Nicholas had ap- peared in the dream. Here they built a mighty and impreg- nable fort and trading house, called Foet Amsterdam, which stood on that eminence at present occupied by the custom- house, with the open space now called the Bowling-Green in front. Around this potent fortress was soon seen a numerous pro- geny of httle Dutch houses, with tiled roofs, all which seen«>d most lovingly to nestle under its walls, hke a brood of half- fledged chickens sheltered under the wings of the mother hen. The whole was surrounded by an inclosure of strong pahsa- does, to guard against any sudden irruption of the savages, who wandered in hordes about the swamps and forests that extended over those tracts of country at present called Broad- way, Wall-street, Wilham-street, and Pearl-street. No sooner was the colony once planted, than it took root and throve amazingly ; for it would seem that this thrice-favoured island is hke a munificent dunghill, where every foreign weed finds kindly nourishment, and soon shoots up and expands to greatness. And now the infant settlement having advanced in age and stature, it was thought high time it should receive an honest A HISTORY OF NEW-TORE. 85 Christian name, and it was accordingly called New-Amstee- DAM. It is true, there were some advocates for the original Indian name, and many of the hest writers of the province did long continue to call it hy the title of " Manhattoes;" but this was discountenanced by the authorities, as being heathenish and savage. Besides, it was considered an excellent and praise- worthy measure to name it after a great city of the old world ; as by that means it was induced to emulate the greatness and renown of its namesake — in the manner that little snivelling urchins are called after great statesmen, saints, and worthies and renowned generals of yore, upon which they all industri- ously copy their examples, and come to be very mighty men in their day and generation. The thriving stato o£ the settlement, and the rapid increase of houses, gradually awakened the good OlofEe from a deep lethargy, iato which he had fallen after the building of the fort. He now began to think it was time some plan should be devised on which the increasing town should be built. Summoning, therefore, his counsellors and coadjutors together, they took pipe in mouth, and forthwith sunk into a very sound dehberation on the subject. At the very outset of the business an unexpected difference of opinion arose, and I mention it with much sorrowing, as being the first altercation on record in the councils of New- Amsterdam. It was a breaking forth of the grudge and heart- burning that had existed between those two eminent burghers. Mynheers Tenbroeck and Hardenbroeck, ever since their un- happy altercation on the coast of BeUevue. The great Harden- broeck had waxed very wealthy and powerful, from his domains, which embraced the whole chain of Apulean moun- tains that stretched along the gulf of Kip's Bay, and from part of which his descendants have been expeUed in later ages by the powerful clans of the Joneses and the Schermerhomes. An ingenious plan for the city was offered by Mynheer Ten- broeck, who proposed that it should be cut up and intersected by canals, after the manner of the most admired cities in Hol- land. To this Mynheer Hardenbroeck was diametrically op- posed, 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 these 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 86 ^ BISTORT OF NEW-YORE. Europe. To this proposition, Ten Broeck (or Ten Breeches) ropUed, with a look of as much scorn as he could possibly as- sume. He cast the utmost censure upon the plan of his antago- nist, 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 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; he remarked, that as to the circulation of the blood being necessary to existence. Mynheer Ten Breeches was a Uving 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 Uttle man, and never gave up the last word, rejoined with increasing spirit — Ten Breeches had the advan- tage of the greatest volubHity, 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 for ever after, and a similar breach with that between the houses of Capiolet and Montague did ensue between the famihes 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 re- ceived the twists and turns that have since contributed to give it the present picturesque irregularity for which it is cele- brated, I cannot be too minute in detafling their first causes. After the unhappy altercation J. have just mentioned. I do not find that any thing farther was said on the subject worthy of being recorded. The council, consisting of the largest and A BISTORT OF J^EW-YOMK. 87 oldest heads in the community, met regularly once a week, to ponder on this momentous subject. But either they were de- terred by the war of words they had witnessed, or they were naturally averse to the exercise of the tongue, and the conse- quent 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 enforciag any, and ia the meantime the affairs of the settlement went on — as it pleased God. As most of the council were but little skilled ia 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 min- utes of the councU with tolerable precision, in a large vellum foho, fastened with massy brass clasps; the journal of each meeting consisted but of two Hues, 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 man- ner as they measure distances in Holland at this very time ; an admirably exact measurement, as a pipe in the mouth of a true-born Dutchman is never Mable to those accidents and irregularities that are continually putting our clocks out of order. It is said, moreover, that a regular smoker was ap- pointed as council clock, whose duty was to sit at the elbow of the president and smoke incessantly : every puff marked a division of time as exactly as a second-hand, and the knock- ing out of the ashes of his pipe was equivalent to striking the hour. 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 con- struct their infant settlement — meanwhile, the town took care of itself, and hke a sturdy brat which is suffered to run about wild, unshaclded by clouts and bandages, and other abomina- tions by which your notable nurses and sage old women cripple and disfigure the children of men, increased so rapidly in strength and magnitude, that before the honest burgomasters had determined upon a plan, it was too late to put it in ex- ecution — whereupon they wisely abandoned the subject al- together. 88 A HI8T0RT OP NEW- TORE. CHAPTER VII. HOW THE CITT OF NEW-AMSTERDAM WAXED GREAT, UNDER THE PROTECTION OF OLOFFE THE DREAMER. There is something exceedingly delusive in thus looking back, through the long vista of departed years, and catching a gUmpse of the fairy realms of antiquity that he beyond. Like some goodly landscape meltiag into distance, they receive a thousand charms from their very obscurity, and the fancy dehghts to fill up their outlines with graces and excellencies of its own creation. Thus beam on my imagination those happier days of our city, when as yet New-Amsterdam was a mere pastoral town, shrouded in groves of sycamore and wil- lows, and surrounded by trackless forests and wide-spreading waters, that seemed to shut out all the cares and vanities of a wicked world. In those days did this embryo city present the rare and noble spectacle of a community governed without laws; and thus being left to its own course, and the fostering care of Provi- dence, increased as rapidly as though it had been burthcned with a dozen panniers-f uU of those sage laws that are usually heaped on the backs of young cities— in order to make them grow. And in this particiJar I greatly admire the wisdom and sound knowledge of human nature, displayed by the sage OlofEe the Dreamer, and his feUow-legislators. For my part. I have not so bad an opinion of mankind as many of my brother philosophers. I do not think poor human nature so sorry a piece of workmanship as they would make it out to be ; and as far as I have observed, I am f uUy satisfied that man, if left to himseK, would about as readily go right as wrong. It is only this eternally sounding in his ears that it is his duty to go right, that makes him go the very reverse. The noble independence of his nature revolts at this intolerable tyranny of law, and the perpetual interference of officious mo- rality, which is ever besetting his path with finger-posts and directions to "keep to the right, as the law directs;" and Mke a spirited urchin, he turns directly contrary, and gallops thi'ough mud and mire, over hedges and ditches, merely to show that he is a lad of spirit, and out of his leading-strings. And these opinions are amply substantiated by what I havo A HISTORY OF NEW YORK. 89 above said of our worthy ancestors; who never being be- preached and be-lectured, and guided and governed by stat- utes and laws and by-laws, as are their more enlightened descendants, did one and aU demean themselves honestly and peaceably, out of pure ignorance, or in other words, because they knew no better. Nor must I omit to record one of the earliest measures of this infant settlement, inasmuch as it shows the piety of our fore- fathers, and that, like good Christians, they were always ready to serve God, after they had first served themselves. Thus, having quietly settled themselves down, and provided for their own comfort, they bethought themselves of testifying their gratitude to the great and good St. Nicholas, for his protecting care in guiding them to this delectable abode. To this end they built a fair and goodly chapel within the fort, which they con- secrated to his name; whereupon he immediately took the town of New- Amsterdam under his pecuhar patronage, and he 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 whulome graced the bow- sprit of the Goede Vrouw, was elevated in front of this chapel, in the very centre of what, in modem days, is called the Bowl- ing-Green. 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 — an invaluable relic in this colony of brave trenchermen. As, how- ever, in spite of the most diligent search, I cannot lay my hands upon this little book, I must confess that I entertain considerable doubt on the subject. Thus benignly fostered by the good St. Nicholas, the burgh- ers of New-Amsterdam beheld their settlement increase in magnitude and population, and soon become the metropolis of divers settlements, and an extensive territory. Already had the disastrous pride of colonies and dependencies, those banes of a sound-hearted empire, entered into their imaginations ; and Fort Aurania on the Hudson, Fort Nassau on the Delaware, and Fort Goede Hoep on the Connecticut river, seemed to be the darling offspring of the venerable council.* Thus prosper- ♦ The province about this time, extended on the north to Fort Aurania. or Orange, (now the city of Albany,) situated about 160 miles up the Hudson river. Indeed, 90 A HISTORY OF NEW- YORK. ously, to all appearance, did the province of New-Netherlands advance in power ; and the early history of its metropolis pre- sents a fair page, unsullied by crime or calamity. Hordes of patated savages still lurked about the tangled for- ests a,nd rich bottoms of the tmsettled part of the island — the hunter pitched his rude bower of skins and bark beside the riils that i-an through the cool and shady glens; while here and there might be seen, on some sunny knoll, a group of Indian wigwams, whose smoke rose above the neighbouriag trees, and floated in the transparent atmosphere. By degrees, a mutual good-will had grown up between these wandering beings and the burghers of New- Amsterdam. Our benevolent forefathers endeavoured as much as possible to mehorate their situation, by giving them gin, rum, and glass beads, in exchange for their peltries; for it seems the kind-hearted Dutchmen had conceived a great friendship for their savage neighbours, on account of their being pleasant men to trade with, and little skilled in the art of making a bargain. Now and then a crew of these half -human sons of the forest would make their appearance in the streets of New- Amster- dam, fantastically painted and decorated with beads and flaunt- ing feathers, sauntering about with an aiv of listless indiffer- ence—sometimes in the market-place, instructing the little Dutch boys in the use of the bow and arrow — at other times, inflamed with liquor, swaggering and whooping and yelling about the town like so many fiends, to the great dismay of all the good wives, who would hiu^ry their children into the house, fasten the doors, and throw water upon the enemy from the garret-windows. It is worthy of mention here, that our fore- fathers were very particular in holding up these wUd men as excellent domestic examples — and for reasons that may be gathered from the history of master Ogilby, who tells us, that ' ' for the least offence the bridegroom soundly beats his wife and turns her out of doors, and marries another, insomuch that some of them have every year a new wife." Whether 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 wilder- ness. On the south, the province reached to Fort Nassau, on the South river, sine© called the Delaware; and on the east, it extended to the Varsche (or Fresh) river, now the Connecticut. On this last frontier was likewise erected a fort or trading house, much about the spot where at present is situated the pleasant town of Hart- ford. This was called Fort Goede Hoep, (or Good Hope,) and was intended as well for the purposes of trade, as o£ defence. A BISTORT OF NEW-YORK. 91 this awful example had any influence or not, history does not mention ; but it is certain that our grandmothers were miracles of fidelity and obedience. True it is, that the good understanding between our ances- tors and their savage neighbours was liable to occasional inter- ruptions ; and I have heard my grandmother, who was a very ^vise old woman, and well versed ia the history of these parts, tell a long story, of a winter's evening, about a battle between the Now-Amsterdamers and the Indians, which was known by the name of the Peach War, and which took place near a peach orchard, in a dark glen, which for a long whQe went by the name of the Murderer's "VaUey. The legend of this sylvan war was long current among the nurses, old wives, and other ancient chroniclers of the place ; but time and improvement have almost obhterated both the tradition and the scene of battle ; for what was once the blood- stained valley is now in the centre of this populous city, and known by the name of Bey-street. The accumulating wealth and consequence of New -Amster- dam and its dependencies at length awakened the tender soUci- tude of the mother country; who, finding it a thriving and opulent colony, and that it promised to yield great profit, and no trouble, aU at once became wonderfuUy anxious about its safety, and began to load it with tokens of regard, in the same manner that your knowing people are sure to overwhelm rich relations with their affection and loving-kindness. The usual marks of protection shown by mother countries to wealthy colonies were forthwith manifested — the first care al- ways being to send rulers to the new settlement, with orders to squeeze as much revenue from it as it will yield. Accord- ingly, in the year of our Lord 1629, Mynheer WouteeTan TwiLLER was appointed governor of the province of Nieuw- Nedei^andts, under the commission and control of their High Mightinesses, tiie Lords States General of the United Nether- lands, and the privileged West Lidia Company. This renowned old gentleman arrived at New- Amsterdam in the merry month of June, the sweetest month in all the year ; when Dan ApoUo Geems to dance up the transparent firma- ment—when the robin, the thrush, and a thousand other wan- ton songsters make the woods to resound with amorous difr. ties, and the luxurious Mttle boblincon revels among the clover blossoms of the meadows— aU which happy coincidence per- suaded the old dames of New- Amsterdam, who were skiUcd in 92 A HISTORY OF NKW-TORK. 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 the chapter, I will put an end to this second book of my history, that I may usher him in with more dignity in the beginning of my next. A BISTORT OF NEW-TOBK. 93 BOOK iir. IN WHICH IS RECORDED THE GOLDEN REIGN OF PVOUTER VAN TWILLER. CHAPTER I. OF THE RENOWNED WALTER VAN TWILLER — ^mS T7NPARALLELED VIRTUES — AND LIKEWISE HIS UNUTTERABLE WISDOM IN THE LAW-CASE OF WANDLE SCHOONHOVEN AND BARENT BLEECKER —AND THE GREAT ADMIRATION OF THE PUBLIC THEREAT. Grievous and very much to be commiseratccl is the task of the feeUng historian who writes the history of his native land. If it fall to his lot to be the sad recorder of calamity or crime, the mournful page is watered with his tears — nor can he recall the most prosperous and blissful era, without a melancholy sigh at the reflection that it has passed away for ever ! I know not whether it be owing to an immoderate love for the sim- phcity of former times, or to that certain tenderness of heart incident to all sentimental historians ; but I candidly confess that I cannot look back on the happier days of our city, which I now describe, without a sad dejection of the spirits. With a faltering hand do I withdraw the curtain of obUvion that veils the modest merit of our venerable ancestors, and as their figures rise to my mental vision, humble myself before the mighty shades. Such are my feeHngs when I revisit the family mansion of the Knickerbockers, and spend a lonely hour in the chamber where hang the portraits of my forefathers, shrouded 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, imtil its current shall soon be stopped for ever! 94 ^ BISTORT OP NEW-YORK. 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 to assume the animation of life — their eyes to pursue me in every movem.ent! Carried away by the delusions of fancy, I almost imagine rayself sur- rounded by the shades of the departed, and holding sweet con- verse with the worthies of antiquity ! Ah, hapless Diedrich ! born in a degenerate age, abandoned to the bufEetings of for- tiine— a stranger and a weary pilgrim in thy native land — blest with no weeping wife, nor family of Jielpless children; but doomed to wander neglected through those- crowded streets, and elbowed by foreign upstarts frona those fair abodes where once thine ancestors held sovereign empire ! Let me not, however, lose the historian in the man, nor suffer the doting recollections of age to overcome me, whUe dwelling with fond garrulity on the virtuous days of the patri- archs — on those sweet days of simpUcity and ease, which never more will dawn on the lovely island of Manna-hata ! The renowned Wouter (or Walter) Van Twiller was de- scended from a long Une of Dutch burgomasters, who had successively dozed away their lives, and grown fat upon the bench of magistracy in Rotterdam ; and who had comported themselves with such singular wisdom and propriety, that they were never either heard or talked of — which, next to be- ing universally applauded, shoidd be the object of ambition of all sage magistrates and rulers. The surname of Twiller is said to be a corruption of the original Twijfier, which in English means doubter; a name admirably descriptive of his deUberative habits. For, though he was a man shut up within himself like an oyster, and of such a profoundly reflective, turn, that he scarcely ever spoke except in monosyllables, yet did he never make up his mind on any doubtful point. This was clearly accounted for by his adherents, who aflirmed that he always conceived every ob- ject on so comprehensive a scale, that he had not room in his head to turn it over and examine both sides of it, so that he always remained in doubt, merely in consequence of the aston- ishing magnitude of his ideas I There are two opposite ways by which some men get into no. A HISTORY OF NEW-YORK. 95 tice — one by talking a vast deal and thinking a little, and the other by holding their tongues, and not thinking at aU. By the first, many a vapouring, superficial pretender acquires the reputation of a man of quick parts — by the other, many a va- cant diinderpate, like the owl, ^he stupidest of birds, comes to be complimented by a discerning world with all the attributes of wisdom. This, by the way, is a mere casual remark, which I would not for the imiverse have it thought I apply to Gov- ernor "Van T wilier. On the contrary, he was a very wise Dutchman, for he never said a foohsh thing — and of such in- vincible gravity, that he was never known to laugh, or even to smile, through the course of a long and prosperous life. Certain, however, it is, there never was a matter proposed, however simple, and on which your common narrow-minded mortals would rashly determine at the first glance, but what the renowned Wouter put on a mighty, mysterious, vacant kind of look, shook his capacious head, and, having smoked for five minutes with redoubled earnestness, sagely observed, that "he had his doubts about the matter" — ^which in process of time gained him the character of a man slow in belief, and not easily imposed on. The person of this illustrious old gentleman was as regularly formed, and nobly proportioned, as though it had been moulded by the hands of some cunning Dutch statuary, as a model of . majesty and lordly grandeur. He was exactly five feet six inches in height, and six feet five inches in circumference. His head was a perfect sphere, and of such stupendous dimensions, that dame Nature, with all her sex's ingenuity, woiild have been puzzled to construct a neck capable of supporting it; wherefore she wisely declined the attempt, and settled it firmly on the top of .his back-bone, just between the shoulders. His body was of an oblong form, particularly capacious at bottom ; which was wisely ordered by Providence, seeing that he was a man of sedentary habits, and very averse to the idle labour of walking. His legs, though exceeding short, were sturdy in pro- portion to the weight they had to sustain ; so that when erect he had not a little the appearance of a robustious beer-barrel, standing on skids. His face, that infallible index of the mind, presented a vast expanse, perfectly unfurrowed or deformed by any of those lines and angles which disfigure the human coun- tenance with what is termed expression. Two small gray eyes twinkled feebly in the midst, like two stars of lesser magni- tude in the hazy firmament; and his full-fed cheeks, which 96 A HISTORY OF NEW-TORK. seemed to have taken toll of every thing that went into his mouth, were curiously mottled and streaked with dusky red, like a Spitzenberg apple. His habits were as regular as his person. He daily took his four stated meals, appropriating exactly an hour to each; he smoked and doubted eight hours, and he slept the remaining twelve of the four-and-twenty. Such was the renowned Wou- ter Van TwiUer— a true philosopher, for his mind was either elevated above, or tranquilly settled below, the cares and per- plexities of this world. He had hved in it for years, without f eehng the least curiosity to know whether the sun revolved round it, or it round the sim ; and he had watched, for at least half a century, the smoke curliug from his pipe to the ceiling, without once troubling his head with any of those numerous theories, by which a philosopher woidd have perplexed his brain, in. accounting for its rising above the surrounding atmosphere. In his council he presided with groat state and solemnity. He sat. in a huge chair of solid oak, hewn in the celebrated for- est of the Hague, fabricated by an experienced timmei-man of Amsterdam, and curiously carved about the arms and feet, into exact imitations of gigantic eagle's claws. Instead of a sceptre, he swayed a long Turkish pipe, wrought with jasmin and amber, which had been presented to a Stadtholder of Hol- land, at the conclusion of a treaty with one of the petty Bar- bary powers. In this stately chair woiild he sit, and this magnificent pipe would he smoke, shaking his right knee with a constant motion, and fixing his eye for hours together upon a little print of Amsterdam, which hung in a black frame against the opposite wall of the councU chamber. Nay, it has even been said, that when any deUberation of extraordinary length and intricacy was on the carpet, the renowned Woutcr would absolutely shut his eyes for full two hours at a time, that he might not be disturbed by external objects — and at such times the internal commotion of his mind was evinced by certain regular guttural soimds, which his admirers declared were merely the noise of conflict, made by his contending doubts and opinions. It is with infinite difficully I have been enabled to collect these biographical anecdotes of the great man tmder consider ation. The facts respecting him were so scattered and vague, and divers of them so questionable in point of authenticity, that I have had to give up the search after many, and doclino A BISTORT OF NEW-YORK. 97 the admission of still more, which would have tended to heigh- ten the colouring of his portrait. I have been the more anxious to delineate fuUy the person and habits of the renowned Van TwiUer, from the considera- tion that ho was not only the first, tut also the best governor that ever presided over this ancient and respectable province ; and so tranquil and benevolent was his reign, that I do not find throughout the whole of it, a stagle instance of any offen- der being brought to ptmishment— a most indubitable sign of a merciful governor, and a case unparalleled, excepting in the reign of the illustrious King Log, from whom, it is hinted, the renowned Van TwiUer was a hneal descendant. The very outset of the career of this excellent magistrate was distinguished by an example of legal acumen, that gave flattering presage of a wise and equitable administration. The morning after he had been solemnly installed in office, and at the moment that he was making his breakfast, from a pro- digious earthen dish, filled with milk and Indian pudding, he was suddenly interrupted by the appearance of one Wandla Schoonhoven, a very important old burgher of New-Amster- dam, who complained bitterly of one Barent Bleecker, inasmuch as he fraudulently refused to come to a settlement of accounts, seeing that there was a heavy balance in favour of the said Wandle. Governor Van TwiUer, as I have already observed, was a man of few words ; he was likewise a mortal enemy to multiplying writings — or being disturbed at his breakfast. Having listened attentively to the statement of Wandle Schoonhoven, giving an occasional grunt, as he shovelled a spoonful of Indian pudding into his mouth — either as a sig-n that he rehshed the dish, or comprehended the story — he called unto him his constable, and pulling out of his breeches pocket a huge jack-knife, despatched it after the defendant as a summons, accompanied by his tobacco-box as a warrant. This summary process was as effectual in those simple days as was the seal-ring of the great Haroun Alraschid among tlae true believers. The two parties being confronted before him, each produced a book of accounts written in a language and character that would have puzzled any but a High Dutch com- mentator, or a learned decipherer of Egyptian obelisks, to understand. The sage Wouter took them one after the other, and having poised them in his hands, and attentively counted over the number of leaves, fell straightway into a very great doubt, and smoked for half an hour without saying a word ; at 98 A HISTORY Of HKW-yoiiK. length, laying his finger beside his nose, and shutting his eyes for a moment, with the air of a man who has just caught a subtle idea by the tail, he slowly took his pipe from his mouth, puffed forth a column of tobacco-smoke, and with m.arvellous gravity and solemnity pronounced — that having carefully counted over the leaves and weighed the books, it was found, that one was just as thick and as heavy as the other— therefore it was the final opinion of the court that the accounts were equally balanced— therefore Wandle should give Barent a re- ceipt, and Barent should give Wandle a receipt — and the con- stable should pay the costs. This decision being straightway made known, diffused gene- ral joy throughout New- Amsterdam, for the people hnme- diately perceived, that they had a very wise and equitable magistrate to rule over them. But its happiest effect was, that not another law-suit took place throughout the whole of his administration — and the ofiice of constable fell into such decay, that there was not one of those losel scouts known in the province for many years. .1 am the more particular in dwelling on this transaction, not only because I deem it one of the most sage and righteous judgments on record, and well worthy the attention of modem magistrates, but because it was a miraculous event in the history of the renowned Wouter — being the only time he was ever known to come to a decision in the whole course of his life. CHAPTEE n. OONTAINING SOME ACCOTTNT OF THE GRAND COUNCIL OF NEW- AMSTEEDAM, AS ALSO DIVERS ESPECLiL GOOD PHTLOSOPHIOAL REASONS WHY AN ALDERMAN SHOULD BE PAT — WITH OTHER PARTICULARS TOUCHING THE STATE OP THE PROVINCE. In treating of the early governors of the province, I must caution my readers against confounding them, in point of dignity and power, with those worthy gentlemen who are whimsically denominated governors in this enlightened repub- lic — a. set of imhappy victims of popularity, who are in fact the most dependent, henpecked beings in the community : doomed to bear tho c:ocret goadjngs and corrections of their own party, A HISTORY OF NEW-YOBK. 99 and the sneers and revilings of the whole world beside ; — set up, like geese at Christmas holydays, to be pelted and shot at by every whipster and vagabond in the land. On the contrary, the Dutch governors enjoyed that uncontrolled authority vested in aU commanders of distant colonies or territories. They were in a manner absolute despots in their little domains, lording it, if so disposed, over both law and gospel, and accountable to none but the mother country ; which it is well known is aston- ishingly deaf to all complaints against its governors, provided they discharge the main duty of their station — squeezing out a good revenue. This hint will be of importance, to prevent my readers from being seized with doubt and incredulity, when- ever, in the course of this authentic history, they encounter the uncommon circumstance of a governor acting with inde- pendence, and in opposition to the opinions of the multitude. To assist the doubtful Wouter in the arduous business of legislation, a board of magistrates was appointed, which pre- sided immediately over the police. This potent body consisted of a schout or bailiff, with powers between those of the present mayor and sheriff — five burgermeesters, who were equivalent to aldermen, and five schepens, who officiated as scrubs, sub- devils, or bottle-holders to the burgermeesters, in the same manner as do assistant aldermen to their principals at the present day ; it being their duty to fill the pipes of the lordly burgermeesters^hunt the markets for delicacies for corpora- tion dinners, and to discharge such other little offices of kind- ness as were occasionally required. It was, moreover, tacitly understood, though not specifically enjoined, that they should consider themselves as butts for the blunt wits of the bur- germeesters, and should laugh most heartily at aU their jokes ; but this last was a duty as rarely called in action in those days as it is at present, and was shortly remitted, in conse- quence of the tragical death of a fat little schepen — who actually died of suffocation, in an vmsuccessful effort to force a laugh at one of the burgermeester Van Zandt's best jokes. In return for these humble services, they were permitted to say yes and no at the council board, and to have that enviable privilege, the run of the public kitchen— being graciously per- mitted to eat, and drink, and smoke, at aU snug junketings and pubhc gormandizings, for which the ancient magistrates were equally famous with their modem successors. The post of schepen, therefore, like that of assistant alderman, was eagerly coveted by all your burghers of a certain description, who have 100 ^ BISTORT OF NEW-TORK. a huge relisli for good feeding, and an humble ambition to be great men in a small way — who thirst after a little brief authority, that shall render them the terror of the ahns-house and the bridewell — that shall enable them to lord it over obse- quious poverty, vagrant vice, outcast prostitution, and hunger- driven dishonesty — that shall give to their beck a hound-hke pack of catch-poles and bum-bailiffs — tenfold greater rogues than the culprits they hunt down ! — My readers will excuse this sudden warmth, which I confess is unbecoming of a grave historian — but I have a moral antipathy to catch-poles, bimi- hailiffs, and httle great men. The ancient magistrates of this city corresponded with those of the present time no less in form, magnitude, and intellect, than in prerogative and privilege. The burgomasters, hke oiu" aldermen, were generally chosen by weight— and not only the weight of the body, but likewise the weight of the head. It is a maxim practically observed in all honest, plain-thinking, regular cities, that an alderman should be fat— and the wisdom of this can be proved to a certainty. That the body is in some measure an image of the mind, or rather that the mind is moulded to the body, Hke melted lead to the clay in which it is cast, has been insisted on by many philosophers, who have made himaan natm:e their peculiar study — for as a learned gentleman of oiir own city observes, "there is a constant rela- tion between the moral character of all intelligent creatures, and their physical constitution — between their habits and the structure of their bodies." Thus we see, that a lean, spare, diminutive body, is generally accompanied by a petidant, rest- less, meddling mind — either the mind wears down the body, by its contiQual motion ; or else the body, not affording the mind sufficient house-room, keeps it continually in a state of fretful- ness, tossiag and worrying about from the uneasiness of its situation. Whereas your round, sleek, fat, unwieldy peri- phery is ever attended by a mind like -itself, tranquil, torpid, and at ease ; and we may always observe, that your weU-f ed, robustious bm-ghers are in general very tenacious of their ease an^ comfort; being great enemies to noise, discord, and distur- bance — and surely none are more likely to study the public tranquilHty than those who are so careful of their own. Who ever hears of fat men heading a riot, or herding together in turbulent mobs?-:-no — no — it is your lean, hungry men, who are continually worrying society, and setting the whole com- munity by the ears. A BISTOBT OF NEW-YORE. 101 The diviQe Plato, whose doctrines are not sufficiently attended to by philosophers of the present age, allows to every man three souls — one immortal and rational, seated in the brain, that it may overlook and regulate the body— a second consisting of the surly and irascible passions, which, like belligerent powers, lie encamped around the heart — a third moi-tal and sensual, destitute of reason, gross and brutal in its propensities, and enchained in the beUy, that it may not dis- turb the divine,soul, by its ravenous howlings. Now, accord- ing to this excellent theory, what can be more clear, than that your fat alderman is most likely to have ■ the most regular and well-conditioned mind. His head is Hke a huge, spherical chamber, containing a prodigious mass of soft brains, whereon the rational soul hes softly and snugly couched, as on a feather bed ; and the eyes, which are the windows of the bed-chamber, are usually half -closed, that its slumberings may not be dis- turbed by external objects. A mind thus comfortably lodged, and protected from, disturbance, is manifestly most likely to perform its functions with regularity and ease. By dint of good feeding, moreover, the mortal and maUgnant soul, which is confined in the belly, and which, by its raging and roaring, puts the irritable soul in the neighbourhood of the heart in an intolerable passion, and thus renders men crusty and quarrel- some when hungry, is completely pacified, silenced, and put to rest — whereupon a host of honest good-fellow qualities and kind-hearted affections, which had lain perdue, slyly peeping out of the loop-holes of the heart, finding this Cerberus asleep, do pluck up their spirits, turn out one and all ia their holyday suits, and gambol up and down the diaphragm — disposing their possessor to laughter, good-humour, and a thousand friendly offices towards his feUow-mortals. As a board of magistrates, formed on this model, think but very httle, they are the less likely to differ and wrangle about favourite opinions — and as they generally transact business upon a hearty dinner, they are naturally disposed to be lenient and indulgent in the administration of their duties. Charle- magne was conscious of this, and, therefore, (a pitiful measure, for which I can never forgive him,) ordered in his cartularies, that no judge should hold a court of justice, except in the morning, on an empty stomach — a rule, which, I warrant, bore hard upon all the poor culprits in his kingdom. The more enlightened and humane generation of the present day have taken an opposite couree, and have so managed, that the 102 A BISTORT OF NEW-TORE. aldermen are the best-fed men in the community; feasting lustily on the fat things of the land, and gorging so heartily oysters and turtles, that in process of time they acquire the activity of the one, and the form, the waddle, and the green fat of the other. The consequence is, as I have just said, these luxurious feastings do produce such a dulcet equanimity and repose of the soul, rational and irrational, that their transac- tions are proverbial for unvarying monotony — and the pro- found laws which they enact in their dozing moments, amid the labom^ of digestion, are quietly suffered to remain as dead- letters, and never enforced, when awake. In a word, your fair, round-beUied burgomaster, hke a fuU-fed mastiff, dozes quietly at the house-door, always at home, and always at hand to watch over its safety — ^but as to electing a lean, meddling candidate to the office, as has now and then been done, I would as lief put a grayhound to watch the house, or a race-horse to drag an ox-wagon. The burgomasters then, as I have already mentioned, were wisely chosen by weight, and the schepens, or assistant alder- men, were appointed to attend upon them, and help them eat ; but the latter, in the course of time, when they had been fed and fattened into sufficient bulk of body and drowsiness of brain, became very eligible candidates for the burgomasters' chairs, having fairly eaten themselves into office, as a mouse cats his way into a comfortable lodgment in a goodly, blue- nosed, sldmmed-milk, New-England cheese. Nothing could equal the profound deliberations that took place between the renowned Wouter and these his worthy compeers, unless it be the sage divans of some of our modem corporations. They would sit for hours smoking and dozing over public affairs, without speaking a word to interrupt that perfect stillness so necessary to deep reflection. Under the sober sway of "Wouter Yan Twiller, and these his worthy coad- jutors, the infant settlement waxed vigorous apace, gradually emerging from the swamps and forests, and exhibiting that mingled appearance of town and country, customary in new cities, and which at this day may be witnessed in the city of Washington — that immense metropolis, which makes so glori- ous an appearance on paper. It was a pleasing sight, in those times, to behold the honest burgher, Uke a patriarch of yore, seated on the bench at the door of his whitewashed house, under the shade of some gigantic sycamore or overhanging wiUow. Here would he A HISTORY OF NEW- YORK. 103 smoke his pipe of a sultry afternoon, enjoying the soft south- em breeze, and listening with silent gratulation to the cluck- ing of his hens, the cackling of his geese, and the sonorous grunting of his swine ; that combination of farm-yard melody, which may truly be said to have a sUver sound, inasmuch as it conveys a certain assurance of profitable marketing. The modem spectator, who wanders through the streets of this populous city, can scarcely form an idea of the different appearance they presented in the primitive days of the Doubt- er. The busy hum of multitudes, the shouts of revelry, the rumbling equipages of fashion, the ratthng of accursed carts, and aU the spirit-grieving sounds of brawling commerce, were imknown in the settlement of New-Amsterdam. The grass grew quietly in the highways — the bleating r^heep and frolic- some calves sported about the verdant ridge where now the Broadway loungers take their morning stroU — the cunning fox or ravenous wolf skulked in the woods, where now are to be seen the dens' of Gomez and his righteous fraternity of money-brokers — and flocks of vociferous geese cackled about the fields, where now the great Tammany wigwam and the patriotic tavern of Martling echo with the wranghngs of the mob. In these good times did a true and enviable equality of rank and property prevail, equally removed from the arrogance of w^ealth, and the servihty and heart-burnings of repining pov- erty — and what in my mind is still more conducive to tran- quillity and harmony among friends, a happy equality of intellect was likewise to be seen. The minds of the good burghers of New- Amsterdam seemed all to have been cast in one mould, and to be those honest, blunt minds, which, hke certain manufactures, are made by the gross, and considered as exceedingly good for common use. Thus it happens that your true dull minds are generally pre- ferred for public employ, and especially promoted to city honours ; yonr keen intellects, hke razors, being considered too sharp for common service. I know that it is common to rail at the unequal distribution of riches, as the great source of jealousies, broils, and heart-breakings; whereas, for my part, I verily beheve it is the sad inequality of intellect that pre- vails, that embroils communities more than anything else; and I have remarked that your knowing people, who are so much wiser than any body else, are eternally keeping society in a ferment. Happily for New- Amsterdam, nothing of the 104 A HISTORY OF NEW-TORK. kind was known within its walls — the very words of learning, education, taste, and talents were unheard of — a bright genius was an animal unknown, and a blue-stocking lady would have been regarded with as much wonder as a horned frog" or a fiery dragon. No man, in fact, seemed to know more than his neighbour, nor any man to know more than an honest man ought to know, who has nobody's business to mind but his own ; the parson and the council clerk were the only men that coidd read in the community, and the sage Van TwiUer always signed his name with a cross. Thrice happy and ever to be envied little burgh ! existing ia all the security of harmless insignificance — unnoticed and un- envied by the world, without ambition, without vain-glory, without riches, without learning, and aU their train of carking cares — and as of yore, in the better days of man, the deities were wont to visit him on earth and bless his rural habitations, so we are told, in the sylvan days of New- Amsterdam, the good St. Nicholas would often make his appearance in his beloved city, of a holyday afternoon, riding jolHly among the tree-tops, or over the roofs of the houses, now and then draw- ing forth magnificent presents from his breeches pockets, and dropping them down the chimneys of his favourites. "Whereas in these degenerate days of iron and brass, he never shows us the Hght of his countenance, nor ever visits us, save one night in the year; when he rattles down the chimneys of the de- scendants of the patriarchs, confining his presents merely to the children, in token of the degeneracy of the parents. Such are the comfortable and thriving effects of a fat gov- ernment. The province of the New-Netherlands, destitute of wealth, possessed a sweet tranquiUity that wealth could never purchase. There were neither pubhc commotions, nor private quarrels; neither parties, nor sects, nor schisms; neither per- secutions, nor trials, nor punishmepts ; nor were there counsel- lors, attorneys, catch-poles, or hangmen. Every mrn attended to what little business he was lucky enough to have, or neg- lected it if he pleased, without asking the opinion of his neigh- bour. In those days, nobody meddled with concerns above his comprehension, nor thrust his nose into other people's affairs ; nor neglected to correct his own conduct, and reform his own character, in his zeal to pull to pieces the characters of others — ^but in a word, every respectable citizen eat when he was not hungry, drank when he was not thirsty, and went regularly to bed when the sim set, and the fowls went to roost, whether A HISTORY OF NEW-TORE. /05 he were sleepy or not ; all -which tended so remarkably to the population of the settlement, that I am told every dutiful wife throughout New-Amsterdam made a point of enriching her husband with at least one child a year, and very often a brace — this superabundance of good things clearly constituting the true luxury of hfe, according to the favourite Dutch maxim, that "more than enough constitutes a feast." Every thing, therefore, went on exactly as it should do ; and in the usual words employed by historians to express the welfare of a country, "the profoundest tranquillity and repose reigned throughout the province." CHAPTER m. HOW THE TOWN OF NEW-AMSTEEDAM AEOSE 0T7T OP MUD, AND OSIE TO BE MARVELLOUSLY POLISHED AND POLITE— TOGETHER WITH A PICTURE OF THE MANNERS OF OUR GREAT-GREAT- GRANDFATHERS. Manifold are the tastes and dispositions of the enlightened literati, who turn over the pages of history. Some there be, whose hearts are brimful of the yeast of courage, and whose bosoms do work, and swell and foam, with untried valour, like a barrel of new cider, or a train-band captain, fresh from under the hands of his tailor. This doughty class of readers can be satisfied with nothing but bloody battles and horrible en- counters; they must be continually storming forts, sacking cities, springing mines, marching up to the muzzles of cannon, charging bayonet through every page, and reveUing in gun- ' powder and carnage. Others, who are of a less martial, but equally ardent imagination, and who, withal, are a little given to the marvellous, wiU dwell with wondrous satisfac- tion on descriptions of prodigies, unheard-of events, hair- breadth escapes, hardy adventm-es, and all those astonishing narrations that just amble along the boundary line of possi- bility. A third class, who, not to speak shghtly of them, are of a lighter turn, and skim over the records of past times, as they do over the edifying pages of a novel, merely for relaxa- tion and innocent amusement, do singularly delight in trear sons, executions, Sabine rapes, Tarquia outrages, conflagrar 106 ^ HISTORY OF NEW-YORK. tions, murders, and all the other catalogue of hideous crimes, that, hke cayenne in cookery, do give a pungency and flavour to the dull detail of history — while a fourth class, of more philosophic habits, do diligently pore over the musty chroni- cles of time, to investigate the operations of the human kind, and watch the gradual changes in men and manners, effected by the progress of knowledge, the vicissitudes of events, or the influence of situation. If the three first classes find hiit httle wherewithal to solace themselves in the tranquil reign of Wouter Van TwiUer, I entreat them to exert their patience for a while, and bear with the tedious picture of happiness, prosperity, and peace, which my duty as a faithful historian obUges me to draw; and I promise them that as soon as I can possibly hght upon any thing honible, imcommon, or impossible, it shall go hard, but I will make it afford them entertainment. This being promised, I turn with great complacency to the fourth class of my readers, who are men, or, if possible, women, after my own heart; grave, philosophical, and investigating; fond of ana- lyzing cliaracters, of taking a start from first causes, and so hunting a nation down, through all the mazes of innovation and improvement. Such wiU naturally be anxious to wit- ness the first development of the newly -hatched colony, and the primitive mannei's and customs prevalent among its in- habitants, during the halcyon reign of Van TwiUer, or the Doubter. I wiU not grieve their patience, however, by describing minutely the increase and improvement of New-Amsterdam. Their own imaginations wiU doubtless present to them the good burghers, hke so many pains-taking and persevering beavers, slowly and siu-ely pursuing their labours — ^they wiU behold the prosperous transformation from the rude log-hut to the stately Dutch mansion, with brick front, glazed win- dows, and tiled roof — from the tangled thicket to the luxuriant cabbage garden; and from the skulking Indian to the pon- derous burgomaster. In a word, they wiU picture to them- selves the steady, silent, and undeviating march to prosperity, incident to a city destitute of pride or ambition, cherished by a fat government, and whose citizens do nothing in a hurry. The seige coimcU, as has been mentioned in a preceding chapter, not being able to determine upon any plaii for the building of their city — the cows, in a laudable fit of patriotism, took it under their peculiar charge, and as they want to and A HISTORY OF NEW-TORE. 107 from pasture, established paths through the bushes, on each side of which the good folks built their houses ; which is ono cause of the rambling and picturesque turns and labyrinths, which distinguish certain streets of New-Tork at this very- day. The houses of the higher class were generally constructed of wood, excepting the gable end, which was of small black and yeUow Dutch bricks, and always faced on the street, as our ancestors, lilie their descendants, were very much given to outward show, and were noted for putting the best leg fore- most. The house was always furnished with abundance of large doors and small windows on every floor ; the date of its erection was curiously designated by iron figures on the front ; and on the top of the roof was perched a fierce httle weather- cock, to let the family into the important secret which way the wind blew. These, like the weathercocks on the tops of our steeples, pointed so many different ways, that every mciii coiild have a wind to hia mind ; — the most staunch and loyal citizens, however, always went according to the weathercock on the top of the governor's house, which was certainly the m.ost correct, as he had a trusty servant employed every morning to climb up and set it to the right quarter. In those good- days of simphcity and sunshine, a passion for cleanliness was the leading principle in domestic economy, and the universal test of an able housewife — a character wjiicli formed the utmost ambition of our unenlightened grandmoth- ers. The front door was never opened except on marriagcK, funerals, new-year's days, the festival of St. Nicholas, or Bomo such great occasion. It was ornamented with a gorgeous brass knocker, curiously wrought, sometimes in the device of a dog, and sometimes of a lion's head, and was daily burnished with such reUgious zeal, that it was ofttimes worn out by the very precautions taken for its preservation. The whole house was constantly in a state of inundation, under the discipline of mops and brooms and scrubbing-brushes ; and the good house- wives of those days were a kind of amphibioiis animal, delight- ing exceedingly to be dabbling in water — ^insomuch that a historian of the day gravely teUs us, that many of his towns- women grew to have webbed fingers Uke unto a duck ; and some of them, he had httle doubt, could the matter be exam- ined into, woTild be found to have the tails of mermaids — but this I look upon to be a mere sport of fancy, or what is worse. a wilful misrepresentation. 108 -l IJISTORY OF NEW- YORK. The grand parlour was the sanctum sanctorum, where the passion for cleaning was indulged without control. In this sacred apartment no one was permitted to enter, excepting the mistress and her confidential maid, who visited it once a week, for the purpose of giving it a thorough cleaning, and putting things to rights — always taking the precaution of leaving their shoes at the door, and entering devoutly in their stocking-feet. After scrubbing the floor, sprinkling it with fine white sand, which was curiously stroked into angles, and curves, and rhomboids, with a broom — after washing the windows, rub- bing and poUshing the furniture, and putting a new bunch of evergreens in the fire-place —the window-shutters were again closed to keep out the flies, a-nd the room carefully locked up until the revolution of time brought roim.d the weekly clean- ing day. As to the family, they always entered in at the gate, and most generally lived in the -kitchen. To have seen a numer- ous household assembled around the fire, one would have imagined that he was transported back to those happy days of primeval simplicity, which float before our imaginations hke golden visions. The fire-places wei-e of a truly patriarchal magnitude, where the whole family, old arid young, master and servant, black and white, nay, even the very c&,t and dog, en- joyed a community of privilege, and had each a right to a comer. Here the old burgher would sit in perfect silence, pufiing his pipe, looking in the fire with half-shut eyes, and thinking of nothing for hours together ; the goede vrouw on the opposite side would employ herself diligently in spinning yarn, or knitting stockings. The young folks would crowd around the hearth, listening with breathless attention to some old crone of a negro, who was the oracle of the fa mil y, and who, perched like a raven in a comer of the chimney, would croak forth for a long winter afternoon a string of incredible stories about New-England witches — grisly ghosts, horses with- out heads — and hairbreaxith escapes and bloody encounters among the Indians. In those happy days a well-regulated family always rose with the dawn, dined at eleven, and went to bed at sun-down. Dinner was invariably a private meal, and the fat old burgh- ers showed incontestable symptoms of disapprobation and un- easiness at being surprised by a visit from a neighbour on such occasions. But though our worthy ancestors were thus singu- A HISTORY OF NEW- YORK 109 larly averse to giving dianers, yet they kept up the social hands of intimacy by occasional banquetings, called tea-parties. These fashionable parties were generally confined to the higher classes, or noblesse, that is to say, such as kept their own cows, and drove their own wagons. The company coni- monly assembled at three o'clock, and went away about six, unless it was in winter-time, when the fashionable hom-s were a httle earher, that the ladies might get home before dark. The tea-table was crowned with a huge earthen dish, well stored with shces of fat pork, fried brown, cut iip into mor- sels, and swimming in gravy. The company being seated around the genial board, and each furnished with a fork, evinced their dexterity in launching at the fattest pieces in this mighty dish — ^in much the same manner as sailors harpoon porpoises at sea, or our Indians spear salmon in the lakes. Sometimes the table was graced with immense apple pies, or saucers full of preserved peaches and pears ; but it was always sure to boast an enormous dish of balls of sweetened dough, fried in hog's fat, and called doughnuts, or olykoeks — a deh- cious kind of cake, at present scarce known in this city, ex- cepting in genuine Dutch families. The tea was served out of a majestic delft tea-pot, orna- mented with paintings of fat httle Dutch shepherds and shep- herdesses tending pigs— with boats saihng iu the air, and houses built in the clouds, and sundry other ingenious Dutch fantasies. The beaux distinguished themselves by their adroit- ness in replenishing this pot from a huge coppper tea-kettle, which woTold have made the pigmy macaronies of these degene- rate days sweat merely to look at it. To sweeten the beverage, a lump of sugar was laid beside each cup — and the company alternately nibbled and sipped with great decorum, until an improvement was introduced by a shrewd and economic old lady, which was to suspend a large lump directly over the tea- table, by a string from the ceiling, so that it could be swung from mouth to mouth — an ingenious expedient which is still kept up by some famihes in Albany; but which prevails with- out exception in Communipaw, Bergen, Flatbush, and all our uncontaminated Dutch villages. At these primitive tea-parties the utmost propriety and dig- nity of deportment prevailed. No flirting nor coquetting — no gambling of old ladies, nor hoyden chattering and romping of young ones — ^no self-satisfied stnittings of wealthy gentlemen, ■with their brains in their pockets — ^nor amusing conceits, ancj no A BISTORT OF KEW-YORE. monkey divertisements, of sroart young gentlemen with no brains at all. • On the contrary, the yoimg ladies seated them- selves dem.urely in their rush-bottomed chairs, and knit their own woollen stockings ; nor ever opened their Kps, excepting to say, yah Mynheer, or yah yah Vrouiv, to any question that was asked them ; behaving, in aU things, like decent, weU-educated damsels. As to the gentlemen, each of them tranquilly smoked his pipe, and seemed lost in contemplation of the blue and white tHes with which the fire-places were decorated ; wherein sim^dry passages of scripture were piously portrayed — Tobit and his dog figured to great advantage ; Haman swung con- spicuously on his gibbet ; and Jonah appeared most manfully bouncing out of the whale, hke Harlequin through a barrel of fire. The parties broke up without noise and without confusion. They were carried home by their own carriages, that is to say, by the vehicles Nature had provided them, excepting such of the wealthy as could afford to keep a wagon. The gentlemen gallantly attended their fair ones to their respective abodes, and took leave of them with a hearty smack at the door; which, as it was an established piece of etiquette, done in per- fect simplicity and honesty of heart, occasioned no scandal at that time, nor should it at the present — ^if our great-grand- fathers approved of the custom, it would argue a great want of reverence in their descendants to say a word against it. CHAPTER rv. CONTAININa FURTHER PARTICULAES OP THE GOLDEN AGE, AMD WHAT CONSTITUTED A FINE LADY AND GENTLEMAN IN THE DAYS OP WALTER THE DOUBTER. In this dulcet period of my history, when the beauteous island of Manna-hata presented a scene, the very counterpai't of those glowing pictures drawn of the golden reign of Saturn, there was, as I have before observed, a happy ignorance, an honest simplicity, prevalent among its inhabitants, which, were I even able to depict, would be but Mttle understood by the degenerate age for which I am doomed to write. Even the female sex, those arch innovators upon the tranquillity, the honesty, and gray-beard customs of society, seemed for a A BISTORT OF NEW-YORK.- \\\ while to conduct themselves with incredible sobriety and comeliness. Their hair, untortured by the abominations of art, was scru- pulously pomatumed back from their foreheads with a candle, and covered with a Uttle cap of quilted cahco, which fitted exactly to their heads. Their petticoats of hnsey-woolsey were striped with a variety of gorgeous dyes — though I must confess these gaUant garments were rather short, scarce reaching below the knee; but then they made up in the number, which generally equalled that of the gentlemen's smaU-clothes ; and what is stiU more praiseworthy, they were all of their own manufacture — of which circmnstance, as may well be supposed, they were not a little vain. These were the honest days, in which every woman staid at home, read the Bible, and wore pockets — ^ay, and that too of a goodly size, fashioned with patchwork into many curious de- vices, and ostentatiously worn on the outside. These, in fact, were convenient receptacles, where all good housewives care- fully stowed away such things as they wished to have at hand ; by which means they often came to be incredibly crammed — and I remember there was a story current when I was a boy, that the lady of Wouter Van Twiller once had occasion to empty her right pocket in search of a wooden ladle, and the Utensil was discovered lying among some rubbish in one comer — but we must not give too much faith to aU these stories ; the anecdotes of those remote periods being very sub- ject to exaggeration. Besides these notable pockets, they likewise wore scissors and pincushions suspended from their girdles by red ribands, or, among the more opulent and showy classes, by hrass, and even silver chains, indubitable tokens of thrifty housewives . and industrious spinsters. I cannot say much in vindication of the shortness of the petticoats ; it doubtless was introduced for the purpose of giving the stockings a chance to be seen, which were generally of blue worsted, with magnificent red clocks— or perhaps to display a well-turned ankle, and a neat, though serviceable, foot, set off by a high-heeled leathern shoe, with a large and splendid silver buckle. Thus we find that the gentle sex in aU ages have shown the same disposition to infringe a little upon the laws of decorum, in order to betray a lurking beauty, or gratify an innocent love of finery. From^ the sketch here given, it will be seen that our good grandmothers differed considerably in their ideas of a fine 112 A BISTORT OF JVEW-TOEK. figure from their scantily-dreesed descendants of the present day. A fine lady, in those times, waddled under more clothes, even on a fair summer's day, than would have clad the whole bevy of a modem baU-room. Nor were they the less admired by the gentlemen in consequence thereof. On the contrary, the greatness of a lover's passion seemed to increase in pro- portion to the magnitude of its object — ^and a voluminous damsel, arrayed in a dozen of petticoats, was declared by a Low Dutch sonnetteer of the province to be radiant as a sun- flower, and luxuriant as a full-blown cabbage. Certain it is, that in those days, the heart of a lover coiild not contain more than one lady at a time ; whereas the heart of a modem gal- lant has often room enough to accommodate haJf-a-dozen. The reason of which I conclude to be, that either the hearts of the gentlemen have grown larger, or the persons of the ladies smaller — ^this, however, is a question for physiologists to deter- mine. But there was a secret charm in these petticoats, which no doubt entered into the consideration of the prudent gaUants. The wardrobe of a lady was in those days her only fortune ; and she who had a good stock of petticoats and stockings was as absolutely an heiress as is a Kamtschatka damsel with a store of bear-skins, or a Lapland beUe with a plenty of rein- deer. The ladies, therefore, were very anxious to display these powerful attractions to the greatest advantage ; and the best rooms in the house, instead of being adorned with carica- tures of dame Nature, in water-colours and needle-work, wore always hung round with abundance of home-spun garments, the manufacture and the property of the females— a piece of laudable ostentation that still prevails among the heiresses of our Dutch villages. The gentlemen, in fact, who figured in the circles of the gay world in these ancient times, corresponded, in most parti- culars, with the beauteous damsels whose smiles they were ambitious to deserve. True it is, their merits would make but X very inconsiderable impression upon the heart of a modem fair; they neither drove their curricles nor sported their tan- dems, for as yet those gaudy vehicles were not even dreamt of — neither did they distinguish themselves by their brilliancy at the table and their consequent rencontres with watchmen, for our forefathers were of too pacific a disposition to need those guardians of the night, every soul throughout the town being soimd asleep before nine o'clock. Neither did they A BISTORT OF NEW-YORK. 113 establish their claims to gentility at the expense of their tailors — for as yet those offenders against the pockets of society and the tranquiUity of aU aspiring young gentlemen were unknown in New- Amsterdam ; every good housewife made the clothes of her husband and family, and even the goede vrouw of Van Twiller himself thought it no disparage- ment to cut out her husband's linsey-woolsey gaUigaskms. Not but what there were some two or three youngsters who manifested the first dawnings of what is called fire and spirit— who held all labour in contempt ; skulked about docks eind market places ; loitered in the sunshine ; squandered what httle money they could procure at hustle-cap and chuck-far- thing ; swore, boxed, fought cocks, and raced their neighbours' horses — in short, who promised to be the wonder, the talk, and abomination of the town, had not their styhsh career been un- fortunately cut short by an affair of honour with a whipping- post. Far other, however, was the truly fashionable gentleman of those days— his dress, which served for both morning and evening, street and drawing-room, was a linsey-woolsey coat, made, perhaps, by the fair hands of the mistress of his affec- tions, and gallantly bedecked with abundance of large brass buttons — ^haJf a score of breeches heightened the proportions of his figiure — his shoes were decorated by enormous copper buckles — a low-crowned, broad-brimmed hat overshadowed his burly visage, and his hair dangled down his back in a pro- digious queue of eel-skin. Thus equipped, he would manfully sally forth with pipe in mouth, to besiege some fair damsel's obdurate heart— not such a pipe, good reader, as that which Acis did sweetly tune in praise of his Galatea, but one of time delft manufacture, and furnished with a charge of fragrant tobacco. With this would he resolutely set himself down before the fortress, and rarely failed, in the process of time, to smoke the fair enemy into a surrender, upon honourable terms. Such was the happy reign of "VVouter Van TwiUer, celebrated in many a long-forgotten song as the real golden age, the rest being nothing but counterfeit copper-washed coin. In that de- lightful period a sweet and holy calm reigned over the whole province. The burgomaster smoked his pipe in peace— the substantial solace of his domestic cares, after her daily toils were done, sat soberly at the door, with her arms crossed over her anron of snowy white, without bemg insulted by ribald 114 A BISTORT OF NEW-TOBK. street-walkers, or vagabond boys — ^those unlucky urchins, who do so infest our streets, displaying under the roses of youth the thorns and briars of iniquity. Then it was that the 'lover with ten breeches, and the damsel with petticoats of half a score, indulged in aU the innocent endearments of virtuous love, without fear and without reproach; for what had that virtue to fear which was defended by a shield of good linsey- woolseys, equal at least to the seven bull-hides of the invinci- ble Ajax? Ah ! blissful, and never-to-be-forgotten age ! when every thing was better than it has ever been since, or ever will be again — when Buttermilk Channel was quite dry at low water —"when the shad in the Hudson were all salmon, and when the moon shone with a pure and resplendent whiteness, instead of that melancholy yellow light which is the consequence of her sickening at the abominations she every night witnesses in this degenerate city ! Happy woidd it have been for New- Amsterdam, could it always have existed in this state of blissful ignorance and lowly simphcity — ^but, alas! the days of childhood are too sweet to last ! Cities, like men, grow out of them in time, and are doomed alike to grow into the bustle, the cares, and miseries of the world. Let no man congratulate himself when he beholds the child of his bosom or the city of his birth in- creasinsr in magnitude and importance — ^let the history of his own Ufe teach him the dangers of the one, and this exceUent little history of Manna-hata convince him of the calamities of the other. CHAPTER V. IN WHICH THE READER IS BEGUILED INTO A DELECTABLE WALK WHICH ENDS VERY DIFFERENTLY PROM WHAT IT COMMENCED. In the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and four, on a fine afternoon, in the glowing month of September, I took my customary walk upon the Battery, which is at once the pride and bulwark of this ancient and impregnable city of New-Tork. The ground on which I trod was hallowed by recollections of the past, and as I slowy wandered through the long alley of poplars, wliich like so many birch-brooms stand- A HISTORY OF NEW-TORK. 115 ing on end, difiEused a melancholy and lugubrious shade, my imagination drew a contrast between the surrounding scenery, and -what it was in the classic days of our forefathers. Where the government-house by name, but the custom-house by occu- pation, proudly reared its brick walls and wooden pillars, there whilome stood the low but substantial, red-tiled mansion of the renowned Wouter Van T wilier. Around it the mighty bul- warks of Fort Amsterdam frowned defiance to every absent foe; but, hke many a whiskered warrior and gallant militia captain, confined their martial deeds to frowns alone. The mud breast- works had long been levelled with the earth, and their site converted into the green lawns and leafy alleys of the Bat- tery ; where the gay apprentice sported his Sunday coat, and the laborious mechanic, reUeved from the dirt and drudgery of the week, poured his weekly tale of love into the half-averted ear of the sentimental chambermaid. The capacious bay stUl presented the same expansive sheet of water, studded with islands, spriokled with fishing-boats, and bounded with shores of picturesque beauty. But the dark forests which once clothed these shores had been violated by the savage hand of cultivation; and their tangled mazes, and impenetrable thickets, had degenerated into teeming orchards and waving fields of grain. Even Governor's Island, once a smiling gar- den, appertaining to the sovereigns of the province, was now covered with fortifications, inclosing a tremendous blockhouse — so that this once peaceful island resembled a fierce httle war- rior in a big cocked hat, breathing gunpowder and defiance to the world ! For some time did I indulge in this pensive train of thought ; contrasting, in sober sadness, the present day with the hal- lowed years behind the mountains ; lamenting the melancholy progress of improvement, and praising the zeal with which our worthy burghers endeavour to preserve the wrecks of vener- able customs, prejudices, and errors, from the overwhelming tide of modern innovation — when by degrees my ideas took a different turn, and I insensiblj' awakened to an enjoyment of the beauties around me. It was one of those rich autumnal days, which Heaven par- ticularly bestows upon the beauteous island of Manna-hata and its vicinity — not a floating cloud obscured the azure firma- ment—the sun, roUing in glorious splendour through his ethe- real course, seemed to expand his honest Dutch countenance into an unusual expression of benevolence, as he smUed his 116 A BISTORT OF NEW-YOUK. evening salutation upon a city which he delights to visit with his most bounteous beams— the very winds seemed to hold in their breaths in mute attention, lest they should ruffle the tranquillity of the hour — and the waveless bosom of the bay presented a polished mirror, in which Nature beheld herself and smiled. The standard of our city, reserved, hke a choice handkerchief, for days of gala, hung motionless on the flag- staff, which forms the handle to a gigantic chum ; and even the tremulous leaves of the poplar and the aspen ceased to vibrate to the breath of heaven. Every thing seemed to ac- quiesce in the profound repose of nature. The formidable eighteen-pounders slept in the embrasures of the wooden batteries, seemingly gathering fresh strength to fight the bat- tles of their country on the next fourth of July — the soli- tary drum on Governor's Island forgot to call the garrison to their shovels — the evening gun had not yet sounded its signal for aU the regular, weU-meaning poultry throughout the country to' go to roost; and the fleet of canoes, at an- chor between Gibbet Island and Communipaw, sliunhered on their rakes, and suffered the innocent oysters to he for a whUe unmolested in the soft mud of their native bank !— My own feehngs sympathized with the contagious tranquillity, and I should infallibly have dozed upon one of those fragments of benches, which our benevolent magistrates have provided for the benefit of convalescent loungers, had not the extraordi- nary inconvenience of the couch set all repose at defiance. In the midst of this slumber of the soul, my attention was attracted to a black speck, peering above the western horizon, just in the rear of Bergen steeple — gradually it augments, and overhangs the would-be cities of Jersey, Harsimus, and Hobo- ken, which, like three jockeys, are starting on the course of existence, and jostling each other at the commencement of the race. Now it skirts the long shore of ancient Pavonia, spread- ing its wide shadows from the high settlements at Weehawk quite to the lazaretto and quarantine, erected by the sagacity of our pohce for the embarrassment of commerce — now it cKmbs the serene vault of heaven, cloud roUing over cloud, shrouding the orb of day, darkening the vast expanse, and bearing thunder and hail and tempest in its bosom. The earth seems agitated at the confusion of the heavens — ^the late wave- less mirror is lashed into furious waves, that roU in hollow murmiu-s to the shore — ^the oyster-boats that erst sported in the placid vicinity of Gibbet Island, now hurry affrighted to A HIS TOUT OF NEW- YORK 117 ■ the land — ^the poplar writhes and twists and whistles in the blast — torrents of drenching rain and sounding hail deluge the Battery-walks— the gates are thronged by apprentices, servant- maids, and Uttle Frenchmen, with pocket-handkerchiefs over their hats, scampering from the storm — the late beauteous prospect presenis one scene of anarchy and wild uproar, as though old Chaos had resumed his reign, and was hurling back into one vast turmoil the conflicting elements of nature. Whether I fled from the fury of the storm, or remained boldly at my post, as our gallant train-band captains who march their soldiers through the rain without flinching, are points which I leave to the conjecture of the reader. It is pos- sible he may be a little perplexed also to know the reason why I introduced this tremendous tempest to disturb the serenity of my work. On this latter point I wfll gratuitously instruct his ignorance. The panorama view of the Battery was given merely to gratify the reader with a correct description of that celebrated place, and the parts adjacent— secondly, the storm was played off partly to give a little bustle and life to this tran- quil part of my work, and to keep my drowsy readers from faUing asleep— and partly to serve as an overture to the tem- pestuous times that are about to assail the pacific province of Nieuw-Nederlandts — and that overhang the slumbrous admin- istration of the renowned Wouter Van TwUler. It is thus the experienced playwright puts all the fiddles, the French horns, the kettledrums, and trumpets of his orchestra in requisition, to usher in one of those horrible and brimstone uproars called melodramas— ^and it is thus he discharges his thunder, his Ughtning, his rosin, and saltpetre, preparatory to the rising of a ghost, or the murdering of 'a hero. — We wiU now proceed with our history. Whatever may be advanced by philosophers to the contrary, I am of opinion, that, as to nations, the old maxim, that ' ' hon- esty is the best pohcy," is a sheer and ruinous mistake. It might have answered well enough in the honest times when it was made, but in these degenerate days, if a nation pretends to rely merely upon the justice of its dealings, it wiQ fare some- thing Mke an honest man among thieves, who, unless he have something more than his honesty to depend upon, stands but a poor chance of profiting by his company. Such at least was the case with the guileless government of the New-Nether- lands ; which, Kke a worthy unsuspicious old burgher, quietly settled itself down into the city of New- Amsterdam, as into a 118 A niSTORT OF NEW-YORK. snug elbow-cliair— and fell into a comfortable nap — -while, in the meantime, its cunning neighbours stepped in and picked its pockets. Thus may we ascribe the commencement of aU the woes of this great province, and its magnificent m.etropolis, to the tranquil security, or, to speak m.ore accurately, to the imfortunate honesty, of its government. But as I disKke to begin an important part of my history towards the end of a chapter; and as my readers, like myself, must doubtless be exceedingly fatigued with the long walk we have taken, and the tempest we have sustained — I hold it meet we shut up the book, smoke a pipe, and having thus refreshed our spirits, take a fair start in the next chapter. CHAPTER VI. FAITHFULLY DESCRIBING THE INGENIOUS PlEOPLE OP CONNECTICUT AND THEREABOUTS — SHOWING, MOREOVER, THE TRUE MEANING OF LIBERTY OF CONSCIENCE, AND A CXmiOUS DEVICE AMONG THESE STURDY BARBARIANS, TO KEEP UP A HARMONY OF INTER- COURSE, AND PROMOTE POPULATION. That my readers may the more fully comprehend the extent of the calamity, at this very moment impending over the honest, unsuspecting province of Nieuw-Nederlandts, and its dubious governor, it is necessary that I should give some account of a horde of strange barbarians, bordering upon the eastern frontier. Now so it came to pass, that many years previous to the time of which we are treating, the sage cabinet of England had adopted a certain national creed, a kind of pubhc walk of faith, or rather a religious turnpike, in which every loyal subject was dii'ected to travel to Zion — taking care to pay the toll- gatherers by the way. Albeit, a certain shrewd race of men, being very much given to indulge their own opinions, on all manner of subjects, (a propensity exceedingly offensive to your free governments of Europe,) did most presumptuously dare to think for them- selves in matters of religion, exercising what they considered a natural and unextinguishable right — the liberty of conscience. As, however, they poa:e3scd that ingonious habit of mind A IlJSrORT OF NEW-YOltK. 119 which always thinks aloud; which rides cock-a-hoop on the tongue, and is forever galloping into other people's ears, it naturally followed that their liberty of conscience likewise im- plied liberty of speech, which being freely indulged, soon put the country in a hubbub, and aroused the pious indignation of the vigilant fathers of the church. The usual methods ware adopted to reclaim them, that in those days were considered so eflScacious in bringing back stray sheep to the fold ; that is to say, they were coaxed, they were admonished, they were menaced, they were bufEeted — line upon Une, precept upon precept, lash upon lash, here a little and there a great deal, were exhausted without mercy, and without success ; untU at length the worthy pastors of the church, wearied out by their unparalleled stubbornness, were driven, in the excess of their tender mercy, to adopt the scripture text, and literally "heaped live embers on their heads. " Nothing, however, could subdue that invincible spirit of independence which has ever distinguished this singular race of people, so that rather than submit to such horrible tyranny, they one and all embarked for the wilderness of America, where they might enjoy, unmolested, the inestimable liixury of talking. No sooner did they land on this loquacious soil, than, as if they had caught the disease from the ehmate, they all lifted up their voices at once, and for the space of one whole year did keep up such a joyful clamour, that we are told they frightened every bird and beast out of the neighbourhood, and so completely dumbfounded certain fish, which abound on their coast, that they have been called dumb-fish ever since. From this simple circumstance, unimportant as it may seem, did first originate that renowned privilege so loudly boasted of throughout this country — which is so eloquently exercised in newspapers, pamphlets, ward meetings, pot-house committees, and congressional dehberations — which established the right of talking without ideas and without information — of misrepre- senting pubHc affairs— of decrying public measures— of aspers- ing great characters, and destoying little ones ; in short, that grand palladium of our country, the liberty of speech. The simple aborigines of the land for a while contemplated these strange folk in utter astonishment, but discovering that they wielded harmless though noisy weapons, and were a lively, ingenious, good-humoured race of men, they became very friendly and sociable, and gave them the name of Tano- 120 ^ BISTORT OF NEW-TOMK. hies, which in the Mais-Tchusaeg (or Massachusett) language signifies silent men— a waggish appellation, since shorfceued iiito the familiar epithet of Yankees, which they retaia unto the present day. True it is, and my fidelity as a historian will not allow me to passit over in silence, that the zeal of these good people, to maintain their rights and privileges unimpaired, did for a while betray them into errors, which it is easier to pardon than defend. Having served a regular apprenticeship in the school of persecution, it behoved them to show that they had become proficients in the art. They accordingly employed their leisure hours in banishing, scourging, or hanging divers heretical Pa- pists, Quakers, and Anabaptists, for daring to abuse the liberty of conscience : which they now clearly proved to imply noth- ing more than that every man should think as he pleased in matters of rehgion— provided he thought right ; for otherwise it wotdd be giving a latitude to dananable heresies. Now as they (the majority) were perfectly convinced thax they alone. thought right, it consequently followed, that whoever thought different from them thought wrong — and whoever thought wrong, and obstinately persisted in not being convinced and converted, was a flagrant violator of the inestimable liberty of conscience, and a corrupt and infectious member of the body politic, and deserved to be lopped off and cast into the fire. Now I'll warrant there are hosts of my readers ready at oiice to lift up their hands and eyes, with that virtuous indignation with which we always contemplate the faults and errors of our neighbours, and to exclaim at these weU-meaning, but mistaken people, for inflicting on others the injuries they had suffered themselves— for indulging the preposterous idea of convincing the mind by tormenting the body, and establishing the doc- trine of charity and forbearance by intolerant persecution. But, in simple truth, what are we doing at this very day, and in this very enlightened nation, but acting upon the very same principle, in our pohtical controversies? Have we not, within but a few years, released ourselves from the shackles of a gov- emmeht which cruelly denied us the privilege of governing our- selves, and using in full latitude that invaluable member, the tongue? and are we not at this very moment striving our best to tyrannize over the opinions, tie up the tongues, or ruin the fortunes of one another? What are our great political societies, but mere political inquisitions— our pot-house committees, but little tribunals of denunciation — our newspapers, but mere A BISTORT OF NEW-TOEE. 121 ■whipping-posts and pillories, where unfortunate individuals are pelted with rotten eggs^^and our council of appointment, but a grand auto dafe, where culprits are annually sacrificed for their poUtical heresies? Where, then, is the difference in principle between our mea- sures and those you are so ready to condemn among the people I am treating of ^ There is none; the difference is merely cir- cumstantial. Thus wo denounce, instead of banishing — we libel, instead of scourging — we turn out of office, instead of hanging — and where they burnt an offender injoropna persona, we either tar and feather or burn him in effigy — this pohtical persecution being, somehow or other, the grand palladium of our Hberties, and an incontrovertible proof IJiat this is a free country ! But notwithstanding the fervent zeal with which this holy war was prosecuted against the whole race of unbeUevers, we do not find that the population of this new colony was in any wise hindered thereby ; on the contrary, they multipUed to a degree which would be incredible to any man unacquainted , with the marvellous fecundity of this growing country. This amazing increase may, indeed, be partly ascribed to a singular custom prevalent among them, commonly known by the name of bundling — a superstitious rite observed by the young people of both sexes, with which they usually termi- nated their festivities ; and which was kept up witii rehgious Strictness by the more bigoted and vulgar part of the commu- nity. This ceremony was likewise, in those primitive times, considered as an indispensable preliminary to matrimony; their courtships commencing where ours usually finish — by which means they acquired that intimate acquaintance with each other's good quaUties before marriage, which has been pronounced by philosophers the sure basis of a happy \mion. Thus early did this cunning and ingenious people display a shrewdness at making a bargain, which has ever since distin- guished them— and a strict adherence to the good old vulgar maxim about ' ' buying a pig in a poke. " To this sagacious custom, therefore, do I chiefly attribute the tmparalleled increase of the Tanokie or Yankee tribe ; for it is a certain fact, well authenticated by court records and parish registers, that wherever the practice of bundling pre- vailed, there was an amazing number of sturdy brats annually bom unto the State, without the license of the law, or the bene^ fit of clergy. Neither did the irregularity of their birth oper- 122 -4 BISTORT OF NEW-YOliE. ate in the least to their disparagement. On the contrary, they grew up a long-sided, raw-boned, hardy race of whoreson whalers, wood-cutters, fishermen, and peddlers, and strapping comf ed wenches ; who by their united efforts tended marvel- lously towards populating those notable tracts of country called. Nantucket, Piscataway, and Cape God. CHAPTER Vn. HOW THESE StNGULAR BAEB.VEIANS TURNED OTTT TO BE NOTO- RIOUS SQUATTERS — ^HOW THEY BUILT AIR CASTLES, AND AT- TEMPTED TO INITIATE THE NBDERLANDERS IN THE MYSTERY OP BUNDLING. In the last chapter I have given a faithful and unpreju- diced account of the origin of that singular race of people, in- habiting the country eastward of the Nieuw-Nederlandts ; but I have yet to mention certain peculiar habits which rendered them exceedingly obnoxious to our ever-honoured Dutch an- cestors. The most prominent of these was a certain rambling pro- pensity, with which, like the sons of Ishmael, they seem to have been gifted by Heaven, and which, continually goads them on, to shift their residence from place to place, so that a Yankee farmer is in a constant state of migration ; tarrying occasionally here and there; clearing lands for other people to enjoy, biulding houses for others to inhabit, and in a man- ner may be considered the wandering Arab of America. His first thought, on coming to the years of manhood, is to settle himself in the world — which means nothing more nor less than to begin his rambles. To this end he takes unto 'himself for a wife some buxom coimtry heiress, passing rich in red ribands, glass beads, and mock tortoise-sheU combs, with a white gown and morocco shoes for Sunday, and deeply skilled in the mystery of making apple sweetmeats, long sauce, and pumpkin pie. Having thus provided himself, like a peddler, with a heavy- knapsack, wherewith to regale his shoulders through the jour- ney of life, he literally sets out on the peregrination. His whole family, household furniture, and farming utensils, are A HISTORY OF NKW-TOUK. 123 hoisted into a covered cart ; his own and his wife's wardrobe packed up in a firkin — which done, he shoulders his axe, takes staff in hand, whistles " Yankee Doodle," and trudges off to the woods, as confident of the protection of Providence, and rely- ing as cheerfully upon his owa resources, as did ever a patri- arch of yore, when he journeyed into a strange country of tho Grentiles. Having buried himself in the wilderness, he build,! himself a'log hut, clears away a corn-field and potato-patch and. Providence smiling upon his labours, is soon surrounde ) by a snug farm and some half a score of flaxen-headed ur chins, who, by their size, seem to have sprung all at once out of the earth, like a crop of toad-stools. But it is not the nature of this most indefatigable of specu latoi-s to rest contented with any state of sublunary enjoy ment — improvement is his darling passion, and having thij improved his lands, the next care is to provide a mansio-.i worthy the residence of a landholder. A huge palace of pine boards immediately springs up in the midst of the wilder- ness, large enough for a parish church, and furnished with windows of all dimensions, but so rickety a THE GREAT DOLOUR OF THE NEW-AMSTERDAMERS, BECAUSE OF THE AFFAIR OF FORT GOED HOOP — AND, MOREOVER, HOW WIL- LIAM THE TESTY DID STRONGLY FORTIFY THE CITY — TOGETHER WITH THE EXPLOITS OP STOPFEL BRINKERHOFP. Language cannot express the prodigious fury iuto which the testy WUhehnus Eieft was thrown by this provoking intelli- gence. For three good hoiu^ the rage of the little man was too great for words, or rather the words were too great for him; and he was nearly choked by some dozen huge, mis- shapen, nine-cornered Dutch oaths, that crowded aU at once into his gullet. Having blazed off the first broadside, he kept up a constant firing for three whole days — anathematizing the Yankees, man, woman, and child, body and soul, for a set of dieven, schobbejaken, deugenicten, twist-zoekeren, loozen- schalken, blaes-kaken, kakken-bedden, and a thousand other names, of which, unfortunately for posterity, history does not make mention. Finally, he swore that he would have nothing more to do with such a squatting, bimdhng, guessing, ques- tioning, swapping, pumpkin-eating, molasses-daubing, shingle- sphtting, cider-watenng, horse-jockeymg, notion-peddhng crew— -that they rmght stay at Fort Goed Hoop and rot, before he would dirty his hands by attempting to drive them away ; 144 -1 HISTORY OF NEW-YORK. in proof of which, he ordered the new-raised troops to he marched forthwith into winter-quarters, although it was not as yet quite mid-summer. Governor Kieft faithfully kept his word, and his adversaries as faithfully kept their post ; and thus the glorious river Connecticut, and all the gay valleys through which it roUs, together with the salmon, shad, and othor fish within its waters, feU into the hands of the victo- rious Yankees, by whom they are held at this very day. Great despondency seized upon the city of New Amsterdam, in consequence of these melancholy events. The name of Yan- kee became as terrible among our good ancestors as was that of Gaul among the ancient Romans; and aU the sage old women of the province used it as a bugbear, wherewith to frighten their unruly children into obedience. The eyes of aU the province were now turned upon their go- vernor, to know what he would do for the protection of the common weal, in these days of darkness and peril. Great apprehensions prevailed among the reflecting part of the com- munity, especially the old women, that these terrible warriors of Connecticut, not content with the conquest of Fort Goed Hoop, would incontinently march on to New- Amsterdam and take it by storm — and as these old ladies, through means of the governor's spouse, who, as has been already hinted, was ' ' the better horse," had obtained considerable influence in public affairs, keeping the province under a kind of petticoat govern- ment, it was determined that measures should be taken for the effective fortification of the city. Now it happened, that at this time there sojourned in New- Amsterdam one Anthony Van Corlear,* a jolly fat Dutch trumpeter, of a pleasant burly visage, famous for his long wind and his huge whiskers, and who, as the story goes, could twang so potently upon his instrument, as to produce an effect upon aU within hearing, as though ten thousand bag-pipes wore sing- ing right lustily i' the nose. Him did the illustrious Kieft pick out as the man of all the world most fitted to be tlie champion of New- Amsterdam, and to garrison its fort ; making Uttle doubt but that his instrument would be as effectual and offensive in war as was that of the paladin Astolpho, or the more classic * David Pietrez De Vries, in his '* Reyze naer Nieuw-Nederlant onder het year 1640," makes mention of one Corlear, a trumpeter in Fort Amsterdam, who pave name to Corlear's Hoolc, and who was doubtless this same champion described by Mr. Knickerboolcer.— Editor. A mSTORY OF NEW-TORK. 145 horn of Alecto. It would have done one's heart good to have seen the governor snapping his fingers and fidgeting with de- Hght, while his sturdy trumpeter strutted up and down the ramparts, fearlessly twanging his ^trumpet ia the face of the whole world, Uke a thrice-valorous editor daringly insulting all the principahties and powers — on the other side of the Atlantic. Nor was he content with thus strongly garrisoning the fort, but he likewise added exceedingly to its strength, by furnish- ing it with a formidable battery of quaker guns — rearing a stu- pendous flag-staff in the centre, which overtopped the whole city — and, moreover, by building a great windmill on one of the bastions.* This last, to be sxu-e, was somewhat of a novelty in the art of fortification, but, as I have already observed, William Eief t was notorious for innovations and experiments ; and tra- ditions do affirm, that he was much given to mechanical inven- tions—constructing patent smoke- jacks — carts that went before the horses, and especially erecting windmUls, for which ma- chines he had acquired a singular predilection in. his native town of Saardam. All these scientific vagaries of the Mttle governor were cried up -with ecstasy by hia adherents, as proofs of his univei-sal genius— but there were not wanting Ul-natured grumblers, who railed at him as emplojong his mind in frivoloiis pursuits,'"and devoting that time to smoke-jacks and windmills which should have been occupied in the more important concerns of the pro- vince. Nay, they even went so far as to hint, once or twice, that his head was turned by his experiments, and that he really thought to manage his government as he did his mills — by mere wind ! — such are the iUiberality and slander to which enhghtened rulers are ever subject. Notwithstanding aU the measures, therefore, of WilUam the Testy, to place the city in a posture of defence, the inhabitants continued in great alarm and despondency. But fortune, who seems always careful, in the very nick of time, to throw a bone for hope to gnaw upon, that the starvehng elf may be kept ahve, did about this time crown the arms of the province with success in another quarter, and thus cheered the drooping hearts of the forlorn Nederlanders ; otherwise, there is no knowing to what lengths they might have gone in the excess * De Vries mentions that this windmill stood on the south-easi". bastion; and it is like\Tise to be seen, together with the flag-staff, in Justus Danlrer's View of New- Amsterdam. 146 ^ BISTORT OF NEW- YORK. of their sorrowing — "for grief," says the profound historian of the seven champions of Christendom, "is companion with despair, and despair a procurer of infamous death !" Among the numerous inroads of the mosstroopers of Con- necticut, which for some time past had occasioned such great tribulation, I should particularly have mentioned a settlement made on the eastern part of Long Island, at a place which, from the pecuhar excellence of its sheU-fish, was called Oyster Bay. This was attacking the province in the most sensible part, and occasioned great agitation at New-Amsterdam. It is an incontrovertible fact, well known to skilful physiolo- gists, that the high road to the affections is through the throat ; and this may be accounted for on the same principles which I have already quoted in my strictures on fat aldermen. Nor is the fact unlinown to the world at large ; and hence do we ob- serve, that the surest way to gain the hearts of the million, is to feed them well — and that a man is never so disposed to flat- ter, to please and serve another, as when he is feeding at his expense ; which is one reason why your rich men, who give frequent dinners, have such abundance of sincere and faithfiil friends. It is on this principle that our knowing leaders of parties secure the affections of their partisans, by rewarding them bountifully with loaves and fishes ; and entrap the suf- frages of the greasy mob, by treating them with bull feasts and roasted oxen. I have known many a man, in this same city, acqi(iire considerable importance in society, and usurp a large share of the good-will of his enhghtened feUow-citizens, when the only thing that could be said in his eulogium was, that " he gave a good dinner, and kept excellent wine." Since, then, the heart and the stomach are so nearly allied, it follows conclusively that what affects the one, must sympa- thetically affect the other. Now, it is an equally incontro- vertible fact, that of all offerings to the stomach, there is none more grateful than the testaceous marine animal, knowTi com- monly by the vulgar name of Oyster. And in such great rev- erence has it ever been held, by my gormandizing feUow-citi- zens, that temples have been dedicated to it, time out of mind, in every street, lane, and alley throughout this weU-fed city. It is not to be expected, therefore, that the seizing of Oyster Bay, a place abounding with their favourite delicacy, would be tolerated by the inhabitants of New- Amsterdam. An attack upon then- honour they might have pardoned ; even the mas- sacre of a few citizens might have been passed over in silence ; A msrORY OF NEW-TORK. 147 but an outrage that affected the larders of the great city of New- Amsterdam, and threatened the stomachs of its corpulent burgomasters, was too serious to pass unrevenged. — The whole council was unanimous in opinion, that the intruders should be immediately driven by force of arms from Oyster Bay and its vicinity, and a detachment was accordingly despatched for the purpose, under the command of one Stoffel Brinkerhoff, or Brinkerhoofd, (i.e. Stoffel, the head-breaker,) so called becaiase he was a man of mighty deeds, famous throughout the whole extent of Nieuw-Nederlandts for his skill at quarter-staff; and for size, he would have been a match for Colbrand, the Danish champion, slain by Guy of Warwick. Stoffel Brinkerhoff was a man of few words, but prompt actions— one of your straight-going officers, who march directly forward ; and do their orders without making any parade. He used no extraordinary speed in his movements, but trudged steadily on, through Nineveh and Babylon, and Jericho and Patchog, and the mighty town of Quag, and various other renowned cities of yore, winch, by some unaccountable witch- craft of the Yankees, have been strangely transplanted to Long Island, until he arrived in the neighbourhood of Oyster Bay. Here was he encountered by a tumultuous host of vahant warriors, headed by Preserved Fish, and Habakkuk Nutter, and Return Strong, and Zerubbabel Fish, and Jonathan Doo- little, and Determined Cock I — at the sound of whose names the courageous Stoffel verily beheved that the whole parliament of Praise-God-Barebones had been let loose to discomfit him. Finding, hoAvever, that this formidable body was composed merely of the "'select men" of the settlement, armed with no other weapon but their tongues, and that they had issued forth with no other intent than to meet him on the field of argument — he succeeded in putting them to the rout with little diffi- culty, and completely broke up their settlement. Without waiting to write an account of his victory on the spot, and thi; 3 letting the enemy shp through his fingers, while he was securing his own laurels, as a more experienced general would have done, the brave Stoffel thought of nothing but completing his enterprise, and utterly driving the Yankees from the island. This hardy enterprise he performed in much the same manner as he had been accustomed to drive his oxen ; for as the Yan- kees fled before him, he puUed up his breeches and trudged steadily after them, and would infallibly have driven them 148 -4 HISTORY OF NEW- YORK. into ttie sea, had they not begged for quarter, and agreed to pay tribute. The news or this achievement was a seasonable restorative to the spirits of the citizens of New- Amsterdam. To gratify them still more, the governor resolved to astonish them with one of those gorgeous spectacles, known in the days of classic antiquity, a full account of which had been flogged iato his memory, when a school-boy at the Hague. A grand triumph, therefore, was decreed to Stoffel Brinkerhoff. who made his triumphant entrance into town riding on a Naraganset pacer ; iive pumpkins, which, like Roman eagles, bad served the enemy for standards, were carried before him — fifty cart loads of oysters, five hundred bushels of Weathersfield onions, a hun- dred quintals of codfish, two hogsheads of molasses, and vari- ous other treasures, were exhibited as the spoils and tribute of the Yankees ; while three notorious counterfeiters of Manhat- tan notes * were led captive, to grace the hero's triumph. The procession was enlivened by martial music from the trumpet of Anthony Van Corlear, the champion, accompanied by a select band of boys and negroes performing on the national in- struments of rattle-bones and clam-shells. The citizens de- voured the spoils in sheer gladness of heart — every man did honour to the conqueror, by getting devoutly drunk on New- England rum^and the learned Wilhelmus Eieft, calling to mind, in a momentary fit of enthusiasm and generosity, that it was customary among the ancients to honoiu- their victo- rious generals with public statues, passed a gracious decree, by which every tavern-keeper was permitted to paint the head of the intrepid Stoffel on his sign ! *Tliis is one of those trivial anachronisms, that now and then occur in the course of this otherwise authentic history. How could Manhattan notes be counterfeited, when as yet Banks were unknown in this coimtry? — and our simple progt-nitors had rot even dreamt of those inexhaustible mines of paper opulence. — Print. Dev. A EISTOBY OP NEW- YORK. 149 CHAPTER IV. PHILOSOPHICAL REFLECTIONS ON THE FOLLY OF BEING HAPPY IN TIMES OP PROSPERITY — SUNDRY TROUBLES ON THE SOUTH- ERN FRONTIERS — HOW WILLIAM THE TESTY HAD WELL NIGH RUINED THE PROVINCE THROUGH A CABALISTIC WORD— AS ALSO THE SECRET EXPEDITION OF JAN JANSEN ALPENDAM, AND HIS ASTONISHING REWARD. If we could but get a peep at the tally of dame Fortune, where, Uke a notable landlady, she regularly chalks up the debtor and creditor accounts of mankind, we should find that, upon the whole, good and evil are pretty near balanced in this world ; and that though we may lor a long while revel in the very lap of prosperity, the time wiQ at length come when we must ruefully pay off the reckoning. Fortune, in fact, is a pes- tilent shrew, and withal a most inexorable creditor ; for though she may indulge her favourites in long credits, and overwhelm, them with her favours, yet sooner or later she brings up her arrears with the rigour of an experienced publican, and washes out her scores with their tears. "Smce," said good old Boetius, ' ' no man can retain her at his pleasure, and since her flight is so deeply lamented, what are her favours but sure prognostications of approaching trouble and calamity?" There is nothing that more moves my contempt at the stu- pidity and want of reflection of my fellow-men, than to behold them rejoicing, and indulging in security and self-confidence, in times of prosperity. To a wise man, who is blessed with the light of reason, those are the very moments of anxiety and ap- prehension; well knowing that according to the system of things, happiness is at best but transient — and that the higher he is elevated by the capricious breath of fortune, the lower must be his proportionate depression. Whereas, he who is overwhelmed by calamity, has the less chance of encounter- ing fresh disasters, as a man at the bottom of a ladder runs very little risk of breaking his neck by tumbhng to the top. This is the very essence of true wisdom, which consists in knowing when we ought to be miserable; and was discovered much about the same time with that invaluable secret, that ' ' every thing is vanity and vexation of spirit ;" in consequence of which maxim, your wise men have ever been the unhappi- 150 ^ HISTOItr OF NEW-YORK. est of the human race ; esteeming it as an infallible mark of genius to be distressed ■without reason — since any man may be miserable in time of misfortune, but it is the philosopher alone who can discover cause for grief in the very hour of prosperity. According to the principle I have just advanced, we find that the colony of New-Netherlands, which, under the reign of the renowned Van TwiUer, had flourished in such alarming and fatal serenity, is now paying for its former welfare, and dis- charging the enormous debt of comfort which it contracted. Foes harass it from different quarters; the city of New- Am- sterdam, while yet in its infancy, is kept in constant alarm; and its valiant commander, William, the Testy, answers the vulgar, but expressive idea, of " a man in a peck of troubles." While busily engaged repelling his bitter enemies the Yankees on one side, we find him suddenly molested in another quarter, and by other assailants. A vagrant colony of Swedes, under the conduct of Peter Minnewits, and professing allegiance to that redoubtable virago, Christina, queen of Sweden, had set- tled themselves and erected a fort on South (or Delaware) Kiver — within the boundaries claimed by the government of the New-Netherlands. History is mute as to the particulars of their first landing, and their real pretensions to the soil ; and this is the more to be lamented, as this same colony of Swedes will hereafter be found most materially to affect not only the interests of the Nederlanders, but of the world at large ! In whatever manner, therefore, this vagabond colony of Swedes first took possession of the country, it is certain that in 1638 they estabhshed a fort, and Minnewits, according to the off-hand usage of his contemporaries, declared himseK govern or of all the adjacent country, imder the name of the province of New Sweden. No sooner did this reach the ears of the choleric Wnhelmus, than, like a true-spirited chieftain, he immediately broke into a violent rage, and calling together his council, be- laboured the Swedes most lustily in the longest speech that had ever been heard in the colony, since the memorable dispute of Ten Breeches and Tough Breeches. Having thus given vent to the first ebulhtions of his indignatiop, he had resort to his favourite measure of proclamation, and despatched one, piping hot, in the first year of his reign, informing Peter Minne'wits that the whole territory, bordering on the South river, had, time out of mind, been in possession of the Dutch colonists, having been " beset with forts, and sealed with their blood." A ETSWBY OF NEW-YORE. 151 The latter sanguinary sentence would convey an idea of dire- ful war and bloodshed, were we not reheved by the information that it merely related to a fray, in which some half-a-dozen Dutchmen had been killed by the Indians, in their benevolent attempts to establish a colony and promote civiliiiation. By this it will be seen, that WiUiam Kief t, though a very small man, delighted in big expressions, and was much given to a praise- worthy figure of rhetoric, generally ciiltivated by your little great men, called hyperbole — a figure which has been found of infinite service among many of his class, and which has helped to swell the grandeur of many a mighty, self-important, but windy chief magistrate. Nor can I refrain in this place from observing how much my beloved country is indebted to this same figure of hyperbole, for supporting certain of her great- est characters — statesmen, orators, civilians, and divines ; who, by dint of big words, inflated periods, and windy doctrines, are .kept afloat on the surface of society, as ignorant swimmers are buoyed up by blown bladders. The proclamation against Minnewits concluded by ordering the self -dubbed governor, and his gang of Swedish adventurers, immediately to leave the country, under penalty of the high displeasure and inevitable vengeance of the puissant government of the Nieuw-Ncderlandts. This "strong measure," however, does not seem to have had a whit more effect than its prede- cessors which had been thundered against the Yankees — the Swedes resolutely held on to the territory they had taken pos- session of — whereupon matters for the present remained in statu quo. That WiLhelmus Kieft should put up with this insolent ob- stinacy in the Swedes, would appear incompatible with his val- orous temperament ; but we find that about this time the little man had his hands full, and, what with one annoyance and another, was kept continually on the bounce. There is a certain description of active legislators, who, by shrewd management, contrive always to have a hundred irons on the anvil, every one of which must be immediately attended to ; who consequently are ever fiiU of temporary shifts and ex- pedients, patching up the pubhc welfare, and cobbhng the na- tional affairs, so as to make nine holes where they mend one — stopping ohinks and flaws with whatever comes first to hand, like the Yankees I have mentioned, stuflBng old clothes in broken windows. Of this class of statesmen was WiUiam the Testy — and had he only been blessed with powers equal to his 152 -^ UISTORT OF NEW-TOHK. zeal, or his zeal been disciplined by a little discretion, there is very little doubt that he would have made the greatest governor of his size on record — the renowned governor of the island of Barataria alone excepted. The great defect of WUhelmus Eieft's pohcy was, that though no man could be more ready to stand forth in an hour of emergency, yet he was so intent upon guarding the national pocket, that he suSered the enemy to break its head — in other words, whatever precaution for pubhc safety he adopted, he was so intent upon rendering it cheap, that he invariably ren- dered it ineffectual. All this was a remote conseqiience of his profound education at the Hague — where, haviag acquired a smattering of knowledge, he was ever after a great Conner of indexes, continually dipping into books, without ever studying to the bottom of any subject ; so that he had the scum of aU kinds of authors fermenting in his pericranium. In some of these title-page researches, he unluckily stumbled over a grand political cabalistic word, which, with his customary facility, he immediately incorporated into his great scheme of govem- m^ent, to the irretrievable injury and delusion of the honest province of Nieuw-Nederlandts, and the eternal misleading of aU experimental rulers. In vain have I pored over the theurgia of the Chaldeans, the cabala of the Jews, the necromancy of the Arabians, the magic of the Persians, the hocus-pocus of the Enghgh, the witchcraft of the Yankees, or the powwowing of the Indians, to discover where the little man first laid eyes on this terrible word. Neither the Sephir Jetzirah, that famous cabalistic volume,- ascribed to the patriarch Abraham ; nor the pages of Zohar, containing the mysteries of the cabala, recorded by the learned rabbi Simon Sochaides, yield any light to my inquiries — nor am I in the least benefited by my painful researches in the Shem-ham-phorah of Benjamin, the wandering Jew, though it enabled Davidus Elm. to make a ten days' journey in twenty- four hours. Neither can I perceive the shghtest affinity in the Tetragrammaton, or sacred name of four letters, the profound- est word of the Hebrew cabala ; a mystery sublime, ineffable, and incommunicable— and the letters of which, Jod-He-Vau- He, having been stolen by the pagans, constituted their great name, Jao or Jove. In short, in all my cabalistic, theurgic, necromantic, magical, and astrological researches, from the Tetractye of Pythagoras to the recondite works of Breslaw and Mother Bunch, I have not discovered the least vestige of aa A BISTORT OF NEWTOEK. 153 origin of this word, nor have I discovered any word of suffi- cient potency to counteract it. Not to keep my reader in any suspense, the word which had so wonderfully arrested the attention of William the Testy, and which in German characters had a particularly black and ominous aspect, on being fairly translated into the English, is no other than ECONOMT-^a talismanic term, which, by con- stant use and frequent mention, has ceased to be formidable in our eyes, but which has as terrible potency as any in the arcana of necromancy. When pronounced in a national assembly, it has an immedi- ate effect in closing the hearts, beclouding the intellects, draw- ing the purse-strings and buttoning the breeches-pockets of all philosophic legislators. Nor are its effects on the eyes less wonderful. It produces a contraction of the retina, an obscur- ity of the crystalline lens, a viscidity of the vitreous and an inspissation of the aqueous humours, an induration of the tunica sclerotica, and a convexity of the cornea ; insomuch that the organ of vision loses its strength and perspicuity, and the unfortunate patient becomes myopes, or, in plain English, pur- bhnd ; perceiving only the amount of immediate expense, with- out being able to look farther, and regard it in connexion with the ultimate object to be effected — "So that," to quote the words of the eloquent Burke, "a briar at liis nose is of greater magnitude than an oak at five hundred yards' distance. " Such are its instantaneous operations, and the results are stiU more astonishing. By its magic influence, seventy -fours shrink into frigates — frigates into sloops, and sloops into gun-boats. This aU-potent word, which served as his touchstone in poli- tics, at once explains the whole system of proclamations, pro- tests, empty threats, windmills, trumpeters, and paper war, carried on by Wilhelmus the Testy — and we may trace its ope- rations in an armament which he fitted out in 1642, in a moment of great wrath, consisting of two sloops and thirty men, under the command of Mynheer Jan Jansen Alpendam, as admiral of the fleet, and commander-in-chief of the forces. This formidable expedition, which can only be paralleled by some of the daring cruises of our infant navy about the bay and up the Sound, was intended to drive the Marylanders from the Schuylkill, of which they had recently taken posses- sion — ^and which was claimed as part of the province of New- Nederlandts — for it appears that at this time our infant colony was in that enviable state, so much coveted by ambitious 154 -4 msrOET OF NEW-TOEE. nations, that is to sav, the government had a vast extent of territory, part of which it enjoyed, and the greater part of which it had continually to quarrel about. Admiral Jan Jansen Alpendam was a man of great mettle and prowess, and no way dismayed at the character of the enemy, who were represented as a gigantic, gunpowder race of men, who Uved on hoe-cakes and bacon, drank mint- juleps and apple-toddy, and were exceedingly expert at boxing, biting, gouging, tar and feathering, and a variety of other athletic accomphshments, which they had borrowed from their cousins- german and prototypes, the Virginians, to whom they had ever borne considerable resemblance. Notwithstanding all these alarming representations, the admiral entered the Schuylkill most tmdauntedly with his fleet, and arrived with- out disaster or opposition at the place of destination. Here he attacked the enemy in a vigorous speech in Low Dutch, which the wary Kieft had previously put in his pocket ; wherein he courteously commenced by caUing them a pack of lazy, louting, dram-drinking, cock-fighting, horse-racrn,^, slave-driving, tavern-haunting. Sabbath-breaking, mulatto- breeding upstarts — ^and concluded by ordering them to evacu- ate the country immediately — ^to which they most laconically rephed in plain Enghsh, " they'd see him d d first." Now this was a reply for which neither Jan Jansen Alpen- dam nor WUhehnus Kieft had made any calculation — and find- ing himself totally unprepared to answer so terrible a rebuff with suitable hostihty, he concluded that his wisest course was to return home and report progress. He accordingly sailed back to New-Amsterdam, where he was received with great honours, and considered as a pattern for all commanders; having achieved a most hazardous enterprise, at a trifling ex- pense of treasure, and without losing a single man to the State ! He was unanimously called the deUverer of his country, (an appellation hberally bestowed on all great men ;) his two sloops, having done their duty, were laid up (or dry-docked) in a cove now called the Albany basin, where they quietly rotted in the mud ; and to immortalize his name, they erected, by subscrip- tion, a magnificent shingle monument on the top of Flatten- barrack hiU, which lasted three whole years ; when it fell to pieces and was burnt for firewood. A HISTORY OP NEW- YORK. 155 CHAPTER V. HOW WILLIAM THE TESTT ENRICHED THE PROTINCE BY A MULTI- TUDE OF LAWS, AND GAME TO BE THE PATRON OF LAWYERS AND BUM-BAILIFFS— AND HOW THE PEOPLE BECAME EXCEEDINGLY ENLIGHTENED AND UNHAPPY UNDER HIS INSTRUCTIONS. Among the many wrecks and fragments of exalted wisdom which have floated down the stream of time, from venerable antiquity, and have been carefully picked up by those humble, but industrious wights, who ply along the shores of literature, we find the following sage ordinance of Charondas, the Locrian legislator. Anxious to preserve the ancient laws of the state from the additions and improvements of profound "country members," or officious candidates for popularity, he ordained that whoever proposed a new law, should do it with a halter about his neck ; so that in case his proposition w^s rejected, they just hung him up — and there the-matter ended. This salutary institution had such an effect, that for more than two hundred years there was only one trifling alteration in the criminal code — and the whole race of lawyers starved to death for want of employment. The consequence of tliis was, that the Locrians, being unprotected by an overwhelming load of excellent laws, and undefended by a standing army of petti- foggers and sheriff's officers, Hved very lovingly together, and were such a happy people, that they scarce make any figure throughout the whole Grecian history — for it is well knb.wn that none but your unlucky, quarrelsome, rantipole nations make any noise in the world. WeU would it have been for William the Testy, had he haply, in the course of his "universal acquirements," stumbled upon this precaution of the good Charondas. On the contrary, he conceived that the true policy of a legislator was to mul- tiply laws, and thus secure the property, the persons, and the morals of the people, by surrounding them in a manner with men-traps and spring-guns, and besetting even the sweet sequestered walks of private hfe with quickset hedges, so that a man could scarcely turn, without the risk of encountering some of these pestiferous protectors. Thus was he continually coining petty laws for every petty offence that occurred, until in. time they became too numerous to be remembered, and re- mained Hke those of certain modem legislators, mere dead- 156 A EI8T0RY OF NEW-TORK. letters — revived occasionally for the purpose of individual oppression, or to entrap ignorant oflEenders. Petty comrts consequently began to appear, where the law was administered with nearly as much wisdom and impar- tiality as in those august tribunals, the alderman's and jus- tice's courts of the present day. The plaintiff was generally favoured, as being a eustomer and bringing business to the shop ; the offences of the rich were discreetly winked at — lor fear of hurting the feehngs of their friends; — but it could never be laid to the charge of the vigilant burgomasters, that they suffered vice to skulk unpunished, under the disgraceful rags of poverty. About this time may we date the first introduction of capital punishments — a goodly gallows being erected on the water- side, about where Whitehall stairs are at present, a Httle to the east of the Battery. Hard by also was erected another gibbet of a very strange, uncouth, and unmatchable descrip- tion, but on which the ingenious WiUiam Kief t valued himself not a little, being a punishment entirely of his own invention. It was for loftiness of altitude not a whit inferior to that of Hanian, so renowned in Bible history ; but the marvel of the contrivance was, that the culprit, instead of being suspended by»the neck, according to venerable custom, was hoisted by the waistband, and was kept for an hour together danghng and sprawling between heaven and earth — to the infinite en- tertainment and doubtless great edification of the multitude of respectable citizens, who usually attend upon exhibitions of the kind. It is incredible how the Mttle governor chuckled at beholding caitiff vagrants and sturdy beggars thus swinging by the crup- per, and cutting antic gambols in the air. He had a thousand pleasantries and mirthful conceits to utter upon these occa- sions. He called them his dandle-hons — his wild-fowl — his high- flyers — his spread-eagles — his goshawks — ^his scarecrows, and finally his gallows-birds, which ingenious appellation, though originally confined to worthies who had taken the air in this strange manner, has since grown to be a cant name given to all candidates for legal elevation. This punishment, moreover, if we may credit the assertions of certain grave etymologists, gave the first hint for a kind of harnessing, or strapping, by which our forefathers braced up their multifarious breeches, and which has of late years been revived, and continues to be worn at the present day. , A HISTORY OF NEW-TORK. 157 Such were the admirable improvements of WilUam Kieft in criminal law — nor was his civil code less a matter of wonder- ment ; and much does it grieve me that the hmits of my work will not sufEer me to expatiate on both, with the prolixity they deserve. Let it suffice then to say, that in a little while the blessings of innumerable laws became notoriously apparent. It was soon found necessary to have a certain class of men to expound and confound them — divers pettifoggers accordingly made their appearance, under whose protecting care the com- munity was soon set together by the ears. I would not here be thought to insinuate any thing deroga- tory to the profession of the law, or to its dignified members. Well am I aware, that we have in this ancient city ianumer- able worthy gentlemen who have embraced that honourable order, not for the sordid love of filthy lucre, nor the selfish cravings of renown, but through no other motives but a fer- vent zeal for the correct administration of justice, and a gen- erous and disinterested devotion to the interests of their fel- low-citizens ! — Sooner would I throw this trusty pen into the flames,, and cork up my ink-bottle for ever, than iofringe even for a nail's bi-eadth upon the dignity of this truly benevolent class of citizens— on the contrary, I allude solely to that crew of caitiff scouts, who, in these latter days of evil, have become so numerous — who infest the skirts of the profession, as did the recreant Cornish knights the honourable order of chivalry — who, under its auspices, commit their depredations on so- ciety—who thrive by quibbles, quirks, and chicanery, and, like vermin, swarm most where there is most corruption. Nothing so soon awakens the malevolent passions, as the faculty of gratification. The courts of law woiild never be so constantly crowded with petty, vexatious, and disgraceful suits, were it not for the herds of pettifogging lawyers that in- fest them. These tamper with the passions of the lower and more ignorant classes ; who, as if poverty were not a sufficient misery in itself, are always ready to h&ighten it by the bitter- ness of htigation. They are in law what quacks are in medi- ciae— exciting the malady for the purpose of profiting by the cure, and retarding the cure for the purpose of augmenting the fees. Where one destroys the constitution, the other im- poverishes the purse ; and it may Kkewise be observed, that a patient, who has once been under the hands of a quack, is ever after dabbling in drugs, and poisoning himself with in- fallible remedies ; and an ignorant man, who has once meddled 158 ^ HISTORY OF NEW-YORK. with the law under the auspices of one of these empirics, is for ever after embroiling himself with his neighbours, and un- poverishing him self with successful law-suits. — My readers Avill excuse this digression, into which I have been unwarUy betrayed; but I could not avoid giving a cool, unprejudiced account of an abomination too prevalent in this excellent city, and with the effects of which I am. unluckily acquainted to my cost, having been nearly ruined by a law-suit, which was un- jiistly decided against me— and my ruin having been com- pleted by another, which was decided in my favour. It has been remarked by the observant writer of the Stiiyve- sant manuscript, that under the administration of Wilhelmus Kieft the disposition of the inhabitants of New-Amsterdam experienced an essential change, so that they became very meddlesome and factious. The constant exacerbations of tem- per into which the little governor was thrown by the maraud- ings on his frontiers, and his unfortunate propensity to experi- ment and innovation, occasioned him to keep his council in a continual worry— and the coimcU being, to the people at large, what yest or leaven is to a batch, they threw the whole com- munity into a ferment— and the people at large being to the city what the mind is to the body, the unhappy conunotions. they underwent operated most disastrously upon New- Amster- dam — insomuch, that in certain of their paroxysms of conster- nation and perplexity, they begat several of the most crooked, distorted, and abominable streets, lanes, and alleys, with which this metropolis is disfigured. But the worst of the matter was, that just about this time the mob, since called the sovereign people, like Balaam's ass, began to grow more enlightened than its rider, and exhibited a strange desire of governing itself. This was another effect of the "universal acquh-ements" of William the Testy. In some of his pestilent researches among the rubbish of antiquity, he was struck with admiration at the institution of pubhc tables among the Lacedsemonians, where they discussed topics of a general and interesting nature — at the schools of the philoso- phers, where they engaged in profound disputes upon poUtics and morals — where gray-beards were taught the rudiments of wisdom, and youths learned to become little men before they were boys. " There is nothing," said the ingenious Kieft, shut- ting up the book, "there is nothing more essential to the well- management of a country, than education among the people : the basis of a good government should be laid in the public A DISTORT OF NEW-TORK. 159 mind."— Now this was true enough, but it was ever the way- ward fate of William the Testy, that when he thought right, he was sure to go to work wrong. In the present instance, he could scarcely eat or sleep until he had set on foot brawhng debatmg societies among the simple citizens of New- Amster- dam. This was the one thing wanting to compleite his confu- sion. The , honest Dutch burghers, though in truth but httle given to argument or wordy altercation, yet by dint of meet- ing often together, fuddhng themselves with strong drink, be- clouding their Drains with tobacco-smoke, and liste nin g to the harangues of some half-a-dozen oracles, soon became exceed- ingly wise, and— as is always the case where the mob is pohti- caUy enhghtened— exceedingly discontented. They foimd out, with wonderful guickness of' discernment, the fearful error in which they had indulged, in fancying themselves the happiest people in creation— and were fortunately convinced, that, all cu'cumstances to the contrary notwithstanding, they were a very imhappy, deluded, and consequently ruined people. In a short time, the quidnuncs of New- Amsterdam formed themselves into sage juntos of political croakers, who daily met together to groan over poUtical affairs, and make themselves miserable ; thronging to these unhappy assemblages, with the same eagerness that zealots have in all ages abandoned the milder and more peaceful paths of rehgion, to crowd to the howUng convocations of fanaticism. We are naturally prone to discontent, and avaricious after imaginary causes of lamen- tation— Hko lubberly monks, we belabour our own shoulders, and seem to take a vast satisfaction in the music of our own groans. Nor is this said for the sake of paradox ; daily experi- ence shows the truth of these observations. It is almost mi- possible to elevate the spirits of a man groaning under ideal calamities; but nothing is more easy than to render him wretched, though on the pinnacle of f ehcity ; as it is a Hercu- lean task to hoist a man to the top of a steeple, though the merest child can topple him off thence. In the sage assemblages I have noticed, the reader wiU at once perceive the faint germs of those sapient convocations called popular meetings, prevalent at oiu- day. Thither re- sorted all those idlers and "squires of low degree," who, like rags, hang loose upon the back of society, and are ready to be blown away by every wind of doctrine. Cobblers abandoned their stalls, and hastened thither to give lessons on poHtical economy— blacksmiths left their handicraft and suffered their 160 ^ HISrORT OF NEW^YORK. own fires to go out, while they blew the bellows and stirred up the fire of faction ; and even tailors, though but the shreds and patches, the ninth parts of humanity, neglected their own measures to attend to the measures of government. — Notliing was wanting but half-a-dozen newspapers and patriotic editors, to have completed this public illumination, and to have thrown the whole province in an uproar ! I should not forget to mention, that these popular meetings were held at a noted tavern; for houses of. that description have always been found the most fostering nurseries of poU- tics ; abounding with those genial streams which give strength. and sustenance to faction. We are told that the ancient Ger- mans had an admirable mode of treating any question of im- portance ; they first deUberated upon it when drunk, and after- wards reconsidered it when sober. The shrewder mobs of America, who dislike having two minds upon a subject, both determine and act' upon it drunk ; by which means a world of cold and tedious speculation is dispensed with — and as it is universally allowed, that when a man is drunk he sees double, it follows most conclusively that he sees twice as well as his sober neighbours. CHAPTER VI. OF THE GREAT PIPE PLOT — AND OF THE DOLOROUS PERPLEXI- TIES INTO WHICH WILLIAM THE TESTY WAS THROWN, BY REA- SON OF HIS HAYING ENLIGHTENED THE MULTITUDE. WiLHELMUS EiEFT, as has already been made manifest, was a great legislator upon a small scale. He was of an active, or rather a busy mind; that is to say, his was one of those small, but brisk minds, which make up by bustle and constant mo- tion for the want of great scope and power. He had, when quite a youngling, been impressed with the advice of Solomon, ' ' Go to the ant, thou sluggard ; consider her ways and be wise ;" in conformity to which, he had ever been of a restless, ant-like turn, worrying hither and thither, busying himself about little matters, with an air of great importance and anxiety — laying up wisdom by the morsel, and often toiling and puffing at a grain of mustard-seed, under the fuU conviction that he waa moving a mountain. A HISTORY OF NEW-YORE. 161 Thus we are told, that once upon a time, in one of his fits of mental bustle, which he termed deUberation, he framed an un- lucky law, to prohibit the universal practice of smoking. This he proved, by mathematical demonstration, to be, not merely a heavy tax on the public pocket, but an incredible consumer of time, a great encourager of idleness, and, of course, a deadly bane to the prosperity and morals of the people. Ill-fated Kielt! had he hved in this enlightened and libel-loving age, and attempted to subvert the inestimable liberty of the press, he could not have struck more closely on the sensibilities of the million. The populace were in as violent a turmoil as the constitutional ' gravity of their deportment would permit— a mob of factious citizens had even the hardihood to assemble before the gov- ernor's house, where, setting themselves resolutely down, like a besieging army before a fortress, they one and all fell to smoking with a determined perseverance, that seemed as though it were their intention to smoke him into terms. The testy WUliam issued out of his mansion like a wrathful spider, and demanded to know the cause of this seditious assemblage, and this lawless fumigation; to which these stuBdy rioters made no other reply, than to loU back phlegmaticaUy in their seats, and puff away with redoubled fury ; whereby they raised such a murky cloud, that the governor was faia to take refuge in the interior of his castle. The governor immediately perceived the object of this un- usual tumult, and that it would be impossible to suppress a practice, which, by long indulgence, had become a second nature. And here I would observe, partly to explain why I have so often made mention of this practice in my history, that it was inseparably connected with all the affairs, both pubHc and private, of our revered ancestors. The pipe, in fact, was never from the mouth of the true-born Nederlander. It was his companion in sohtude, the relaxation of his gayer hours, his counsellor, his consoler, his joy, his pride; in a word, he seemed to think and breathe through his pipe. When WiUiam the Testy bethought himself of aU these matters, which he certainly did, although a little too late, he came to a compromise with the besieging multitude. The re- sult was, that though he continued to permit the custom of smoking, yet did he aboUsh the fair long pipes which were used in the days of Wouter Van Twiller, denoting ease, tran- quiUity, and sobriety of department ; and, in place thereof, did 162 -^ HISTORY OF ^'EW-rOIlK. introduce little, captious, short pipes, two inches in length; which, he observed, could be stuck in one corner of the mouth, or twi&ted in the hat-band, and would not be in the way of business. By this the multitude seemed som.ewhat appeased, and dispersed to their habitations. Thus ended this alarming insurrection, which was long known by the name of the pipe plot, and which, it has been somewhat quaintly observed, did end, like most other idiots, seditions, and conspiracies, in mere smoke. But mark, oh reader ! the deplorable consequences that did afterwards result. The smoke of these villainous little pipes, , continually ascending in a cloud about the nose, penetrated into, and befogged the cerebellum, dried up all the kindly moisture of the brain, and rendered the people that used them as vapourish and testy as their renowned little governor — nay, what is m.ore, from a goodly, burly race of folk, they became, like our worthy Dutch farmers, who smoke short pipes, a lantern-jawed, smoke-dried, leathern-hided race of men. Nor was this all, for from hence may we date the rise of parties in this province. Certain of the more wealthy and important burghers adhering to the ancient fashion, formed a kind of aristocracy, which went by the appellation of the Long Pipes — while the lower orders, submitting to the innovation, which they found to be more convenient in their handicraft employments, and to leave them more liberty of action, were branded with the plebeian name of Short Pipes. A third party likewise sprang up, dififeriog from both the other, headed by the descendants of the famous Robert Chewit, the companion of the great Hudson. These entirely discarded the use of pipes, and took to chewing tobacco, and hence they were caUed Quids. It is worthy of notice, that this last appel- lation hcis since come to be invariably applied to those mongrel or third parties, that will sometimes spring up between two great contending parties, as a mule is produced between a horse and an ass. And here I would remark the great benefit of these party distinctions, by which the people at large are saved the vast trouble of thinking. Hesiod divides mankind inte three classes : those who think for themselves, those who let others think for them, and those who wHL neither do one nor the other. The second class, however, comprises the great mass of society ; and hence is the origin of party, by which is mennt a large body of people, some few of whom think, and aU the A niSTOKT OF NEW- YORK. 163 rest talk. The f oumer, who are called the leaders, marshal out and discipline the latter, teaching them what they must ap- prove — what they must hoot at — what they must say — whom, they must support — but, above all, whom they must hate— for no man can be a right good partisian, unless he be a deter- ixdned and thorough-going hater. But when the sovereign people are thus properly broken to the harness, yoked, curbed, and reined, it is delectable to see with what docility and harmony they jog onward, through mud and mire, at the will of their drivers, dragging the dirt- carts of faction at their heels. How many a patriotic member of Congress have I seen, who would never have known how to make up his mind on any question, and might have run a great risk of voting right, by mere accident, had he not had others to think for him, and a file-leader to vote after ! Thus then the enlightened inhabitants of the Manhattoes, being divided into parties, were enabled to organize dissension, and to oppose and hate one another more accurately. And now the great business of politics went bravely on— the parties assembling in separate beer-houses, and smoking at each other with implacable animosity, to the great support of the state, and emolument of the tavern-keepers. Some, indeed, who were more zealous than the rest, went farther, and began to bespatter one another with numerous very hard names and scandalous Uttle words, to be found in the Dutch language; every partisan believing religiously that he was serving his country, when he traduced the character or impoverished the pocket of a political adversary. But, however they might differ between themselves, all parties agreed on one point, to cavil at and condemn every measure of government, whether right or wrong ; for as the governor was by his station inde- pendent of their power, and was not elected by their choice, and as he had not decided in favour of either faction, neither of them was interested in his success, or in the prosperity of the country, while imder his administration. " Unhappy WiUiam Kieft!" exclaims the sage writer of the Stuyvesant manuscript — "doomed to contend with enemies too knowing to be entrapped, and to reign over a people too wise to be governed !" All his expeditions against his enemies were baffled and set at nought, and all his measures for the pubMc safety were cavilled at by the people. Did he propose levying an efficient body of troops for internal defence— the mob, that is to say those vagabond members of the community 164 ^ BISTORT OF NEW-YORK. who have nothiag to lose, immediately took the alann, voci- ferated that their interests were in danger — ^that a standing army was a legion of moths, preying on the pockets of society; a rod of iron in the hands of government ; and that a govern- ment with a military force at its command would inevitably swell into a despotism. Did he, as was but too commonly the case, defer preparation until the moment of emergency, and 'then hastily collect a handful of undisciplined vagrants — the taeasure was hooted at as feeble and inadequate, as trifling with the pubhc dignity and safety, and as lavishing the public funds on impotent enterprises. Did he resort to the economic measure of proclamation — he was laughed at by the Yankees; did be back it by non-intercourse— it was evaded and counter- acted by his own subjects. Whichever way he turned himself, he was beleaguered and distracted by petitions of " numerous and respectable meetings," consisting of some half-a-dozen brawUng pot-house poUticians — all of which he read, and, what is worse — all of which he attended to. The consequence was, tlia,t by incessantly changing his measures, he gave none of them a fair trial ; and by Ustening to the clamours of the mob, and endeavouring to do every thing, he, in sober truth, did nothing. I would not have it supposed, however, that he took all these memorials and interferences good-naturedly, for such an idea would do injustice to his vahant spirit; on the contrary, he never received a piece of advice in the whole course of his life, without first getting into a passion with the giver. But I have ever observed that your passionate little men, like small boats with large saUs, are the easiest upset or blown out of their course; and this is demonstrated by Governor Kieft, who, though in temperament as hot as an old radish, and with a mind, the territory of which was subjected to perpetual whirl- winds and tornadoes, yet never failed to be carried away by the last piece of advice that was blown into his ear. Lucky was it for him that his power was not dependent upon the greasy multitude, and that as yet the populace did not possess the important privilege of nominating their chief magistrate! They, however, did their best to help along piiblic affairs ; pes- tering their governor incisssantly, by goading him on with harangues and petitions, and then thwarting hiu fiery spirit with reproaches and memorials, like Sunday jocldes manag- ing an unlucky devil of a hack -horse — so that WUhelmus Kieft may be said to have been kept either on a worry or a hand- gallop throughout the whole of his administration. A HISTORY OF NEW-TOME. 165 CHAPTER VII. CONTAINING DITEES FEARFUL ACCOUNTS OF BORDER WAES, AND THE FLAGRANT OUTRAGES OP THE MOSSTROOPERS OF CONNECTI- CUT — WITH THE RISE OF THE GREAT AMPHYCTIONIC COUNCIL OF THE EAST, AND THE DECLINE OF WILLIAM THE TESTY. It was asserted -by the wise men of ancient times, who were intimately acquainted with these matters, that at the gate of Jupiter's palace lay two huge tuns, the one filled with bless- ings, the other with misfortunes — and it verily seems as if the latter had been completely overturned and left to deluge the unlucky province of Nieuw-Nederlandts. Among the many internal and external causes of irritation, the incessant irrup- tions of the Yankees upon his frontiers were contmuaUy add- ing fuel to the inflammable temper of WiUiam the Testy. Numerous accounts of these molestations may still be found among the records of the times ; for the commanders on the frontiers were especially careful to evince their vigilance and zeal by striving who should send home the most frequent and voluminous budgets of complaints — as your faithful servant is eternally running with complaints to the parlour, of the petty squabbles and misdemeanours of the kitchen. Far be it from me to insinuate, however, that our worthy ancestors indulged in groundless alarms; on the contrary, they were daily suffering a repetition of cruel wrongs,* not one of which but was a sufficient reason, according to the maxims of national dignity and honour, for throwing the whole universe into hostiUty and confusion. * From among a multitude of bitter grievances still on record, I select a few of the most atrocious, and leave my readers to judge if our ancestors were not justifi- able in getting into a very valiant passion on the occasion. "24 June, 1641. Some of Hartford have taken a hogg out of the vlact or com- mon, and shut it up out of meer hate or other prejudice, causing it to starve for hunger in the stye!" " 26 July. The foremencioned English did again drive the Companie's hoggs out of the vlact of Sicojoke into Hartford ; contending daily with reproaches, blows, beating the people with all disgrace that they could imagine." " May 20, 1642. The English of Hartford have violently cut loose a horse of the honoured Companie"s, that stood bound upon the common or vlact." " May 9, 1643. The Companie's horses pastured upon the Companie's ground, were driven away by them of Connecticott or Hartford, and the herdsmen lustily beaten with hatchets and sticks." " 16. Again they sold a young hogg belonging to the Companle, which piggs had pastured on the Companie's \aaA."—Haz. Col. State Papers. 166 -4- HISTORY OF JfBW-TOMK. Oh, ye powers ! into what indignation did every one of these outrages throw the philosophic Williani! letter after letter, protest after protest, proclamation after proclamation, bad Latin, worse English, and hideous Low Dutch were exhausted ia vain upon the iaexorable Yankees ; and the f our-and-twenty letters of the alphabet, which, excepting his champion, the sturdy trumpeter Van Corlear, composed the only standing arm.y he had at his command, were never off duty throughout the whole of his administration. Nor was Antony the trum- peter a whit behind his patron in fiery zeal ; but like a faithful champion of the public safety, on the arrival of every fresh article of news, he was sure to sound his trumpet from the ramparts, with most disastrous notes, throwing the people into violent alarms, and disturbing their rest at aU times and seasons — ^which caused him to be held in very great regard, the pubUc pampering and rewarding him, as we do brawling editors for similar services. I am well aware of the perils that- environ me in this part of my history. While raking with curious hands, but pious heart, among the mouldering remains of former days, anxious to draw therefrom the honey of wisdom, I may fare somewhat like that valiant worthy, Samson, who, in meddhng with the carcass of a dead lion, drew a swarm of bees about his ears. Thus, while narrating the many misdeeds of the Tanokie or Yankee tribe, it is ten chances to one but I offend the morbid sensibUities of certain of their unreasonable descendants, who may fly out and raise such a buzzing about this unlucky head of mine, that I shall need the tough hide of an Achilles or an Orlando Furioso to protect me from their stings. Should such be the case, I should deeply and sincerely lament — not my misfortune in giving ofEence — ^but the wrong- headed perverseness of an ill-natured generation, in taking offence at anything I say. That their ancestors did use my ancestors iU, is true, and I am very sorry for it. I would, with all my heart, the fact were otherwise; but as I am recording the sacred events of history, I'd not bate one nail's breadth of the honest truth, though I were sure the whole edition of my work should be bought up and burnt by the common hangman of Connecticut. And in sooth, now that these testy gentlemen have drawn me out, I will make bold to go farther and observe, that this is one of the grand pur- poses for which we impartial historians are sent into the world — to redress wrongs and render justice on the heads of the A HISTORY OF NEW TORE. 167 guilty. So that, though a powerful nation may wrong its neighbours with temporary impunity, yet sooner or later a historian springs up who wreaks ample chastisement on it in return. Thus these mosstroopers of the east Httle thought, I'U war- rant it, while they were harassing the inoffensive province of Nieuw-Nederlandts, and driving its unhappy governor to his wit's end, that a historian should ever arise and give them their own with interest. Since, then, I am hut performing my bounden duty as a historian, in avenging the wrongs of our revered ancestors, I shall make no further apology; and in- deed, when it is considered that I have aU these ancient bor- derers of the east in my power, and at the mercy of my pen, I trust that it will be admitted I conduct myself with great humanity and moderation. To resume, then, the course of my history. Appearances to the eastward began now to assume a more formidable aspect than ever — for I would have you note that hitherto the province had been chiefly molested by its immediate neighbours, the people of Connecticut, particularly of Hartford ; which, if we may judge from ancient chronicles, was the stronghold of these sturdy mosstroopers, from whence they sallied forth, on their daring incursions, carrying terror and devastation into the barns, the hen-roosts, and pig-styes of our revered an- cestors. Albeit, about the year 1643, the people of the east country, inhabiting the colonies of Massachusetts, Connecticut, New- Plymouth, and New-Haven, gathered together into a mighty conclave, and after buzzing and debating for many days, Mke a political hive of bees in swarming time, at length settled themselves into a formidable confederation, under the title of the United Colonies of New - England. By this union, they pledged themselves to stand by one another in all perils and assaults, and to co-operate in all measures, offensive and de- fensive, against the surroimding savages, among which were doubtlessly included our honoured ancestors of the Manhattoes ; and to give more strength and system to this confederation, a general assembly or grand council was to be annually held, composed of representatives from each of the provinces. On receiving accounts of this combination, Wilhehnus Kieft was struck with consternation, and, for the first time in his whole life, forgot to bounce, at hearing an unwelcome piece of inteUigenco— which a venerable historian of the time observes, 168 A HISTORY OF NEW- YORK. was especially noticed among the politicians of New- Amster- dam. The truth was, on turning over in his mind all that he had read at the Hague, ahout leagues and combinations, he found that this was an exact imitation of the Amphyctionic cotmcil, by which the states of Greece were enabled to attain to such power and supremacy, and the very idea made his heart to quake for the safety of his empire at the Manhattoes. He strenuously insisted that the whole object of this confed- eration was to drive the Nederlanders out of their fair domains ; and always flew into a great rage if any one presumed to doubt the probabUity of his conjecture. Nor was he whoUy im warranted in such a suspicion ; for at the very first annual meeting of the grand council, held at Boston, (which governor Kieft denominated the Delphos of this truly classic league,) strong representations were made against the Nederlanders, forasmuch as that in their dealings with the Indians, they car- ried on a traffic in "guns, powther, and shott — a trade damna- ble and injurious to the colonists."* Not but what certain of the Connecticut traders did likewise dabble a little in this "damnable traffic"— but then they always sold the Indians such scurvy guns, that they burst at the first discharge — and consequently hurt no one but these pagan savages. The rise of this potent confederacy was a deathblow to the gloi-y of WUliam the Testy, for from that day forward, it was remarked by many, ho never held up his head, but appeared quite crestfallen. His subsequent reign, therefore, affords but scanty food for the historic pen — we find the grand council con- tinually augmenting in power, and threatening to overwhelm, the province of Nieuw-Nederla,ndts; while Wilhelmus Eieft kept constantly fulminating proclamations and protests, Hke a shrewd sea-captain firing off carronades and swivels, in order to break and disperse a waterspout — ^but alas ! they had no more effect than if they had been so many blank cartridges. The last document on record of this learned, philosophic, but unfortunate Mttle man, is a long letter to the council of the Amphyctions, wherein, in the bitterness of his heart, he rails at the people of New-Haven, or Red HiQs, for their imcourte- ous contempt of his protest, levelled at them for squatting within the province of their High Mightinesses. From this letter, which is a model of epistolary writing, abounding with pithy apophthegms and classic figures, my limits will barely * Haz. Col. State Papers A mSTOllT OF NEW-TOUK. . 169 allow nie to extract the foUowing recondite passage: — "Cer- tainly when we heare the Inhabitants of New-Hartford com- playninge of us, we seem to heare Esop's wolf e complayninge of the lamb, or the admonition of the younge man, who cryed out to his mother, chideiag with her neighboures, ' Oh Mother revile her, lest she first take up that practice against you.' But being taught by precedent passages, we received such an answer to our protest from the inhabitants of New-Haven as we expected ; the Eagle always despiseth the Beetle Fly; yet notwithstanding we do undauntedly continue on our purpose of pursuing our own right, by just arms and righteous means, and doe hope without scruple to execute the express commands of our superiors." * To show that this last sentence was not a mere empty menace, he concluded his letter by iutrepidly pro- testing against the whole council, as a horde of squatters and interlopers, inasmuch as they held their meetiag at New- Haven, or the Eed-HiUs, which he claimed as being within the province of the New-Netherlands. Thus end the authenticated chronicles of the reign of "Wil- liam the Testy — for henceforth, in the troubles, the perplexi- ties, and the confusion of the times, he seems to have been totally overlooked, and to have sUpped for ever through the fingers of scmpulous history. Indeed, for some cause or other which I cannot diviue, there appears to have been a combina- tion among historians to sink his very name into obUvion, ia consequence of which they have one and all forborne even to speak of his exploits. This shows how important it is for great men to cultivate the favour of the learned, if they are am- bitious of honour and renown. "Insult not the dervise," said a wise caliph to his son, "lest thou oflEend thine historian;" and many a mighty man of the olden time, had he observed so ob- vious a maxim, might have escaped divers cruel wipes of the pen, which have been drawn across his character. It has been a matter of deep concern to me, that such dark- ness and obscurity should hang over the latter days of the Ulusfcrious Kieft— for he was a mighty and great little man, worthy of being utterly renowned, seeing that he was the first potentate that introduced into this land the art of fighting by proclamation, and defending a country by trumpeters and windmills— an economic and humane mode of warfare since revived with great applause, and which promises, if it can ever * Vide Haz. Col. State Papers. 170 A BISTORT OF NEW-TOHE. be carried into full effect, to save great trouble and treasure, and spare infinitely more bloodshed than cither the discovery of gunpowder, or the invention of torpedoes. It is true, that certain of the early provincial poets, of whom there were great numbers in the Nieuw-Nederlandts, taking ad- vantage of the mysterious exit of William the Testy, have fabled, that Hke Eomulus, he was translated to the sides, and forms a very fiery little star, somewhere on the left claw of the crab ; whjle others, equally fanciful, declare that he had experienced a fate similar to that of the good King Arthur; who, we are assured by ancient bards, was carried away to the dehcious abodes of fairy land, where he still exists in pris- tine worth and vigour, and will one day or another return to restore the gallantry, the honour, and the immaculate probity which prevailed in the glorious days oi the Round Table.* All these, however, are but pleasing fantasies, the cobweb visions of those dreaming varlets, the poets, to which I would not have my judicious reader attach any credibility. Neither am I disposed to yield any credit to the assertion of an ancient and rather apocryphal historian, who alleges that the ingen- ious Wilhelmus was annihilated by the blowing down of one of his windmills — ^nor to that of a writer of later times, who affirms that he feU a victim to a philosophical experiment, which he had for many years been vainly striving to accompUsh ; having the misfortune to break his neck from the garret-window of the stadt-house, in an inefEectual attempt to catch swallows, by sprinkling fresh salt upon their tails. The most probable account, and to which I am inclined to give my implicit faith, is contained in a very obscure tradition, which declares, that what with the constant troubles on his frontiers — the incessant schemings and projects going on in his own pericranium — ^the memorials, petitions, remonstrances, and sage pieces of advice from divers respectable meetings of the sovereign people— together with the refractory disposition of liis council, who were sure to differ from him on every point, and uniformly to be in the wrong— all these, I say, did eter- * The old Welch bards believed that king Arthur "was not dead, but carried awaie by the fairies into some pleasant place, where he shold reniainefor a time, and then retume a^aine and reigne in as great authority as ever.—Hollingshed. The Britons suppose that he shall come yet and conquere all Britaigne, for certes, this is the prophicye of Merlyn — He say'd that his deth shall be doubteous; and said soth, for men thereof yet have doubte and shuUen for ever naore — for men wyt not whether that he ly veth or is dede. — De Leeio Chron. A BISTORT OF NEW-TOBK. 171 naUy operate to keep his mind in a kind of furnace heat, until he at length became as completely biu-nt out as a Dutch family pipe which has passed through three generations of hard smokers. In this manner did the choleric but magnanimous WiUiani the Testy undergo a kind of animal combustion, consuming away Uke a farthing rush-hght — so that, when grim Death finally snufEed him out, there was scarce left enough of him to bury 1 172 ■^ BISTORT OF NEW-TOBK. BOOK V. CONTAINING THE FIRST PART OF THE REIGN Of PETER STUYVESANT, AND HIS TROUBLES WITH THE AMPHYCTIONIC COUNCIL. CHAPTER L IN WHICH THE DEATH ,0F A GREAT MAN IS SHOWN TO BE NO VERY INCONSOLABLE MATTER OF SORROW — ASTD HOW PETER STUVVESANT ACQTJIEED A GREAT NAME FROM THE UNCOMMON STRENGTH OP HIS HEAD. To a profound philosopher, like myself, who am a,pt to see clear through a subject, where the penetration, of ordinary people extends but half-way, there is no fact more simple and manifest, than that the death of a great man is a matter of very little importance. Much as we may think of ourselves, and much as we may excite the empty plaudits of the million, it is certain that the greatest among us do actually fill but an exceeding smaU space in the world ; and it is equally certain, that even that small space is quickly supphed when we leave it vacant. " Of what consequence is it," said Pliny, "that indi- viduals appear or make their exit? the world is a theatre whose scenes and actors are continually changing." Never did philosopher speak more correctly ; and I only wonder that so wise a remark could have existed so many ages, and mankind not have laid it more to heart. Sage follows on in the footsteps of sage ; one hero just steps out of his triumphal car to make way for the hero who comes after him; and of the proudest monarch it is merely said, that — "he slept with his fathers, and his successor reigned in his stead." The world, to tell the private truth, cares but little for their loss, and if left to itself would soon forget to grieve; and though a nation has often been figuratively drowned in tears on the death of a great man, yet it is ten chances to one if an A HISTORY OF NISW-TORK. 173 individual tear has been shed on the occasion, excepting from the forlorn pea of some hungry author. It is the historian, the biographer, and the poet, who have the whole burden of grief to sustain; who — kind souls! — like undertakers in England, act the part of chief inourners — who inflate a nation with sighs it never heaved, and deluge it with tears it never dreamt of shedding. Thus, while the patriotic author is weeping and howhng, in prose, in blank verse, and in rhyme, and collecting the drops of public sorrow into his volume, as into a lachrymal vase, it is more than probable his fellow-citizens are eating and drinking, fiddhng and dancing, as utterly ignorant of the bitter lamentations made in their name, as are those men of straw, John Doe and Richard Roe, of the plaintiffs for whom they are generously pleased on divers occasions to become sureties. The most glorious and praiseworthy hero that ever desolated nations, might have mouldered into obUvion among the rub- bish of his own monmnent, did not some historian take him into iavour, and benevolently transmit his name to posterity —and much as the valiant WiUiam Kieft worried, and bus- tled, and turmoUed, while he had the destinies of a whole colony in his hand, I question seriously whether he will not be obliged to this authentic history for aU his future celebrity. His exit occasioned no convulsion in the city of New- Amster- dam or its vicinity: the earth trembled not, neither did any stars shoot from their spheres— the heavens were not shrouded in black, as poets would fain persuade us they have been on the unfortunate death of a hero — the rocks rtiard-hearted var- lets !) melted not into tears, nor did the trees hang their heads in silent sorrow ; and as to the sun, ho laid abed the next night, just as long, and showed as jolly a face when he arose, as he ever did on the same day of the month in any year, either be- fore or since. The good people of New-Amsterdam, one and all, declared that he had been a very busy, active, bustling Mttle governor; that he was " the father of his country"— that he was "the noblest work of God"— that "he was a man, take him for all in all, they ne'er should look upon his like again"— together with sundry other civH and affectionate speeches, that are regularly said on the death of all great men ; after which they smoked their pipes, thought no more about him, and Peter Stuyvesant succeeded to his station. Peter Stuyvesant was the last, and, like the renowned "VVou- ter Van T%viller, he was also the best of our ancient Dutch 174 -^ HISTORY OF NEW-TORK. governors: Wouter having surpassed all who preceded him, and Peter, or Piet, as he was sociably called by the old Dutch burghers, who were ever prone to faraiharize names, having never been equalled by any successor. He was, in fact, the very man fitted by Nature to retrieve the desperate fortunes of her beloved province, had not the fates, those most potent and unrelenting of all ancient spinsters, destined them to mex- tricable confusion. To say merely that he was a hero would be doing him great injustice— he was in truth a combiaation of heroes— ^for he was of a sturdy, rawbone make, like Ajax Telamon, with a pair of round shoulders that Hercules woiild have given his hide for, (meaning his Uon's hide,) when he undertook to ease old Atlas of his load. He was, moreover, as Plutarch describes Corio- lanus, not only terrible for the force of his arm, but hkewise of his voice, which sounded as though it came out of a barrel ; and like the self -same warrior, he possessed a sovereign con- tempt for the sovereign people, and an iron aspect, which was enough of itself to make the very bowels of his adversaries quake with terror and dismay. AH this martial excellency of appearance was inexpressibly heightened by an accidental ad- vantage, with which I am surprised that neither Homer nor Virgil have gi-aced any of their heroes. This was nothing less than a wooden leg, which was the only prize he had gaiaed, in bravely fighting the battles of his country, but of which he was so proud, that he was often heard to declare he valued it more than all his other limbs put together ; indeed, so highly did he esteem it, that he had it gallantly enchased and relieved with silver devices, which caused it to be related in divers his- tories and legends that he wore a silver leg.* Like that choleric warrior, Achilles, he was somewhat sub- ject to extempore bursts of passion, which were ofttimes rather unpleasant to his favourites and attendants, whose perceptions he was apt to quicken, after the manner of his illustrious imi- tator, Peter the Great, by anointing their shoulders with his walking-stafE. Though I cannot find that he had read Plato, or Aristotle, or Hobbes, or Bacon, or Algernon Sidney, or Tom Paine, yet did he sometimes manifest a shrewdness and sagacity in his measures, that one would hardly expect from a man who did not know Greek, and had never studied the ancionts. True it * See the histories of Masters Josselyn and Blome. A HISTORY OF NEW-YORE. 175 is, and I confess it with sorrow, that he had an unreasonable aversion to experiments, and was fond of governing his pro- vince after the simplest manner — but then he contrived to keep it in better order than did the erudite Kieft, though he had all the philosophers ancient and modern to assist and per- plex him. I must likewise own that he made but very few laws, but then again he took care that those few were rigidly and impartially enforced — and I do not know but justice on the whole was as weU administered as i£ there had been vol- imies of sage acts and statutes yearly made, and daily neg- lected and forgotten. He was, in fact, the very reverse of his predecessors, being neither tranquil and inert, like Walter the Doubter, nor rest- less and fidgeting, hke William the Testy; but a man, or rather a governor, of such uncommon activity and decision of mind that he never sought or accepted the advice of others ; depending confidently upon his single head, as did the heroes of yore upon their single arms, to work his way through all difficulties and dangers. To teU the simple truth, he wanted no other requisite for a perfect statesman, than to think always right, for no one can deny that he always acted as he thought ; and if he wanted in correctness, he made up for it in persever- ance — an excellent quahty! since it is surely more dignified for a ruler to be persevering and consistent in error, than wavering and contradictory, in endeavouring to do what is right. This much is certain — and it is a maxim worthy the at- tion of all legislators, both great and small, who stand shaking in the wind, without knowing which way to steer — a ruler who acts according to his own wiU is sure of pleasing himself, while he who seeks to satisfy the wishes and whims of others, runs a great risk of pleasing nobody. The clock that stands stUl, and points steadfastly in one direction, is certain of being right twice in the four-and-twenty hours — ^whQe others may keep going continually, and continually be going wrong. Nor did this magnanimous virtue escape the discernment of the good people of Nieuw-Nederlandts ; on the contrary, so high an opinion had they of the independent mind and vigorous in- tellect of their new governor, that they universally called him Hardkoppig Piet, or Peter the Headstrong — a great compU- ment to his understanding ! If from all that I have said thou dost not gather, worthy reader, that Peter Stuyvesant was a tough, sturdy, valiant, weather-beaten, mettlesome, obstinate, leathern-sided, lion- ]76 ^ lUSTUllY OF NEW- YORK. hearted, generous-spirited old governor, either I have written to but little pui-pose, or thou art very dull at drawing con- clusions. This most excellent governor, whose character I have thus attempted feebly to delineate, commenced his administration on the 29th of May, 1647; a remarkably stormy day, distin guished in all the almanacs of the tune which have come down to us, by the name of Windy Friday. As he was very jealous of his personal and official dignity, he was inaugurated into office with great ceremony; the goodly oaken chair of the renowned Wouter Van TwUler being carefully preserved for such occasions, in like manner as the chau- and stone were reverentially preserved at Schone, in Scotland, for the corona- tion of the Caledonian monarchs. I must not omit to mention, that the tempestuous state of the elements, together with its being that imlucky day of the week, termed "hanging day," did not fail to excite much grave speculation and divers very reasonable apprehensions among the more ancient and ' enhghtened inhabitants ; and several of the sager sex, who were reputed to be not a little sMUed in the mysteries of astrology and fortune-telling, did declare outright that they were omens of a disastrous admin- istration — an event that came to be lamentably verified, and which proves, beyond dispute, the wisdom of attending to those preternatural intimations furnished by dreams and vis- ions, the flying of birds, falling of stones, and cackling of geese, on which the sages and rulers of ancient times placed such reliance — or to those shootings of stars, echpses of the moon, bowlings of dogs, and flarings of candles, carefully noted and interpreted by the oracular sybils of our day; who, in my humble opinion, are the legitimate inheritors and preservers of the ancient science of divination. This much is certain, that governor Stuyvosant succeeded to the chair of state at a turbulent period; when foes thronged and threatened from without; when anarchy and stiff-necked opposition reigned rampant within; when the authority of their High Mighti- nesses the Lords States General, though founded on the broad Dutch bottom of unofiEending imbecility ; though supported by economy, and defended by speeches, protests and proclama- mations, yet tottered to its very centre ; and when the great city of New- Amsterdam, though fortified by flag-staffs, trumpeters, and windmills, seemed like some fair lady of easy virtue, to he open to attack, and ready to yield to the first invader. A mSTOllY OF NEW-YOUE. 177 CHAPTER n. SHOWING HOW PETEE THE HEADSTRONG BESTIRRED HIMSELF AMONG THE RATS AND COBWEBS, ON ENTERING INTO OFFICE — AND THE PERILOUS MISTAKE HE WAS GUILTY OF, IN HIS DEAL- INGS WITH THE AMPHYCTIONS. The very first movements of the great Peter, on taking the reigns of government, displayed the magnanimity of his mind, though tliey occasioned not a httle marvel and imcasinesB among the people of the Manhattoes. Finding himself con- stantly interrupted by the opposition, and annoyed by the ad- vice, of his privy council, the members of which had acquired the unreasonable habit of thinking and speaking for themselves during the preceding reign, he determined at once to put a stop to such grievous abominations. Scarcely, therefore, had ho entered upon his authority, than he turned out of office all those meddlesome spirits that composed the factious cabinet of WUliam the Testy ; in place of whom he chose unto himself counsellors from those fat, somniferous, respectable families, that had flourished and slumbered under the easy reign of "Walter the Doubter. AH these he caused to be furnished with abundance of fair long pipes, and to be regaled with frequent corporation dinners, admonishing them to smoke, and cat, and sloop for the good of the nation, while he took all the burden of government upon his own shoulders — an arrangement to which they gave hearty acquiescence. IS! or did he stop here, but made a hideous rout among the inventions and expedients of his learned predecessor — demol- ishing his flagstaffs and windmills, which, like mighty giants, guarded the ramparts of New-Amsterdam — pitching to the duyvel whole batteries of qu^ker guns — rooting up his patent gallows, where caitiff vagabonds were suspended by the waist- band—and, in a word, turning topsy-turvy the whole philo- sophic, economic, and windmill system of the immortal sage of Saardem. The honest folks of New- Amsterdam, began to quake now for the fate of their matchless champion, Antony the trumpeter, who had acquired prodigious favour in the eyes of the women, by meems of his whiskers and his trumpet. Him did Peter the Headstrong cause to be brought into his presence, and eyeing 178 4 mSTOIiY OF NEW-YORK. him for a moment from head to foot, with a countenance that would have appalled any thing else than a sounder of brass — " Prythee, who and what art thou?" said he. — " Sire," repHed the other, in no wise dismayed, — " for my name, it is Antony Van Corlear— for my parentage, I am the son of my mother — for my profession, I am champion and garrison of this great city of New- Amsterdam." — "I doubt me m.uch," said Peter Stuyvesant, ' ' that thou art some scurvy costardmonger knave — how didst thou acquire this paramount honour and dignity?" — "Marry, sir," replied the other, "like many a great man before me, simply hy sounding my own trumpet.'''' — " Ay, is it so?" quoth the governor, "why, then, let us .have a reHsh of thy art." "Whereupon he put his iastrument to his lips, and sounded a charge with such a tremendous outset, such a de- lectable quaver, and such a triumphant cadence, that it was enough to make your heart leap out of your mouth only to be within a mile of it. Like as a war-worn charger, while sport- ing in peaceful plainfe, if by chance he hear the strains of mar- tial music, pricks up his ears, and snorts and paws and kindles at the noise, so did the heroic soiil of the mighty Peter joy to hear the clangour of the trumpet ; for of him might truly be said what was recorded of the renowned St. George of England, "there was nothing in all the world that more rejoiced his heart, than to hear the pleasant sound of war, and see the sol- diers brandish forth their steeled weapons. " Casting his eyes more kindly, therefore, upon the sturdy "Van Corlear, and find- ing him to be a jolly, fat httle man, shrewd in his discourse, yet of great discretion and immeasurable wind, he straightway conceived a vast kindness for him, and discharging him from the troublesome duty of garrisoning, defending, and alarming the city, ever after retained him about his person, as his chief favourite, confidential envoy, and trusty 'squire. Instead of disturbing the city with disastrous notes, he was instructed to play so as to delight the governor while at his repasts, as did the minstrels of yore in the days of glorious chivalry — and on aU pubhc occasions to rejoice the ears of the people with war- like melody — thereby keeping aUve a noble and martial spirit. Many other alterations and ref orrpations, both for the better and for the worse, did the governor make, of which my time will not serve me to record the particulars ; sufiice it to say, he soon contrived to make the province feel that he was its master, and treated the sovereign people with such tyrannical rigour, that they were all fain to hold their tongues, stay at A niSTORT OF NEW-YORK. 179 home, and attend to their business ; insomuch that party feuds and distinctions were ahnost forgotten, and many thriving keepers of taverns and dramshops wore utterly ruined for want of business. Indeed, the critical state of pubhc affairs at this time de- m.anded the utmost vigUance and promiptitude. The formida- ble coim^cil of the Amphyctions, which had caused so much tribulation to the unfortunate Kieft, still continued augment- ing its forces, and threatened to link within its union all the mighty principalities and powers of the east. In the very year following the inauguration of Governor Stuyvesant, a grand deputation departed from, the city of Providence (fa- mous for its dusty streets and beauteous women,) in behalf of the puissant plantation of Khode Island, praying to be ad- mitted into the league. The following mention is made of this apphcation, in certain records of that assemblage of worthies, which are stUl extant.* "Mr. WOl Cottington and captain Partridg of Ehoode-Hand presented this insewing request to the commissioners in wrighting — "Our request.and motion is in behalf e of Rhoode-Iland, that wee the Ilanders of Ehoode-Iland may be rescauied into com- bination with all the united colonyes of New-England in a, firme and perpetuaU league of friendship and amity of ofence and defence, mutuaU advice and succor upon all just occasions for oxa mutuaU safety and weUfaire, &c. Will Cottington, Alicxsander Partridg." There is certainly something in the very physiognomy of this document that might well inspire apprehension. The name of Alexander, however misspelt, has been warhke in every age ; and though its fierceness is in some measure soft- ened by being coupled with the gentle cognomen of Partridge, stiU, hke the colour of scarlet, it bears an exceeding great re- semblance to the sound of a trumpet. From the style of the letter, moreover, and the soldier-Hke ignorance of orthography displayed by the noble captain Alicxsander Partridg in spell- mg his own name, we may picture to ourselves this mighty man of Rhodes, strong in arms, potent in the field, and as great a scholar as though he had been educated among that * Haz. Col. State Papers. 180 A EISTORT OF NEW-TOMK. learned people of Thrace, who, Aristotle assures us, could not count beyond the number four. But, whatever might be the threatening aspect of this famous confederation, Peter Stuyvesant was not a man to be kept in a state of incertitude and vague apprehension; he liked nothing so much as to meet danger face to face, and take it by the beard. Determined, therefore, to put an end to all these petty maraudings on the borders, he Wrote two or three categorical letters to the grand council ; which, though neither couched in bad Latin, nor yet graced by rhetorical tropes about wolves and lambs, and beetle-flies, yet had more effect than all the elaborate epistles, protests, and proclama- tions of his learned predecessor put together. In consequence of his urgent propositions, the -great confederacy of the east agreed to enter into a final adjustment of grievances and set- tlement of boundaries, to the end that a perpetual and happy peace might take place between the two powers. For this purpose, Governor Stuyvesant deputed two ambassadors to negotiate with commissioners from the grand council of the league; and a treaty was solemnly concluded at Hartford. On receiving intelligence of this event, the whole community "7as in an uproar of exultation. The trumpet of the sturdy Van Corlear sounded all day with joyful clangour from the ■ramparts of Fort Amsterdam, and at night the city was mag- nificently illuminated with two hundred and fifty tallow can- dles ; besides a barrel of tar, which was burnt before the gov- ernor's house, on the cheering aspect of pubhc affairs. And now my worthy reader is, doubtless, like the great and good Peter, congratulating himself with the idea, that his feel- ings wdl no longer be molested by afflicting details of stolen horses, broken heads, impounded hogs, and all the other cata- logue of heartrending cruelties that disgraced these border wars. But if he should indidge in such expectations, it is a proof that he is but little versed in the paradoxical ways of cabinets ; to convince him. of which, I solicit his serious atten- tion to my next chapter, wherein I will show that Peter Stuy- vesant has already committed a great error in politics ; and by effecting a peace, has materially hazarded the tranquillity of the province. A HISTORY OF NEV/-TOBK. 181 CHAPTER in. CONTAINING DITEES SPECULATIONS ON WAR AND NEGOTIATIONS- SHOWING THAT A TEEATY OP PEACE IS A GREAT NATIONAL EVIL. It was the opinion of that poetical philosopher, Lucretius, that war was the original state of man, whom he described as being primitively a savage beast of prey, engaged in a con- stant state of hostnity with his own species ; and that this fe- rocious spirit was tamed and meliorated by society. The same opinion has been advocated by Hobbes ; * nor have there been wanting many other philosophers, to admit and defend it. For my part, though prodigiously fond of these valuable speculations, so comphmentary to human nature, yet, in this instance, I am inclined to take the proposition by halves, be- heving, with Horace, + that though war may have oeen origin- ally the favourite amusement and industrious employment of our progenitors, yet, hke many other excellent habits, so far from being mehorated, it has been cultivated and confirmed by refinement and civilization, and increases in exact propor- tion as we approach towards that state of perfection which is the ne plus ultra of modern philosophy. The first conflict between man and man was the mere exer- tion of physical force, unaided by auxihary weapons — his ann was his buckler, his fist was his mace, and a broken head the catastrophe of his encounters. The battle of unassisted strength was succeeded by the more rugged one of stones and clubs, and war assumed a sanguinary aspect. 'As man ad- vanced in refinement, as his faculties expanded, and his sen- sibOities became more exquisite, he grew rapidly more ingeni- ous and experienced in the art of murdering his fellow-beings. He invented a thousand devices to defend and to assault — the helmet, the cuirass, and the buckler, the sword, the dart, and the javelin, prepared him to elude the wound, as well as to lanch the blow. Still urging on, in the brilliant and philan- * Hobbes' Leviathan. Part i. chap. 13. t Quum prorepserunt primis animalia terris, MutuuTii ac tui-pe pecus, glandem atque cobilia propter, Unpnii''>us et pugnis, dein fustibus, atque ita porro Fuguabant armis, quse post fabricaverat usus. — Sor. Sat. 1. i. s. 3. 182 4 HISTORY OF NEW-TOBK. thropic career of invention, he enlarges and heightens his powers of defence and injuivy — the Aries, the Scorpio, the Balista, and the Catapulta, give a horror and subhmity to war, and magnify its glory by increasing its desolation. Still insatiable, though armed with machinery that seemed to reach the limits of destructive invention, and to yield a power of injury commensurate even with the desires of revenge — still deeper researches must be made in the diabolical arcana. With furious zeal he dives into the bowels of the earth ; he toils midst poisonous minerals and deadly salts — the subHmo discovery of gunpowder blazes upon the world — and finally, the dreadful art of fighting by proclamation seems to endow the demon of war with ubiquity and omnipotence ! This, indeed, is grand!— this, indeed, marks the powers of mind, and bespeaks that divine endowment of reason which distinguishes us from the animals, our inferiors. The un- enlightened brutes content themselves with the native force which Providence has assigned them. The angry bull butts with his horns, as did his progenitors before him — the Hon, the leopard, and the tiger seek only with their talons and their fangs to gratify their sanguinary fury; and even the subtle serpent darts the same venom and uses the same wiles as did his sire before the flood. Man alone, blessed with the inventive mind, goes on from discovery to discovery — en- larges and multiplies his powers of destruction ; arrogates the tremendous weapons of Deity itself, and tasks creation to assist him in murdering his brother worm ! In proportion as the art of war has increased in improve- ment, has the art of preserving peace advanced in equal ratio ; and, as we have discovered, in this age of wonders and inven- tions, that a proclamation is the most formidable engine in war, so have we discovered the no less ingenious mode of maintaining peace by perpetual negotiations. A treaty, or, to speak more correctly, a negotiation, there- fore, according to the acceptation of experienced statesmen, learned in these matters, is no longer an attempt to accommo- date differences, to ascertain rights, and to establish an equi- table exchange of kind offices ; but a contest of s kill between two powers, which shall overreach and take in the other. It is a cunning endeavour to obtain, by peaceable manoeuvre and the chicanery of cabinets, those advantages which a nation would otherwise have wrested by force of arms : in the same maimer that a conscientious highwayman reforms and becomes A HISTORY OF NEW- TORE. 183 an excellent and praiseworthy citizen, contenting himself with cheating his neighbour out of that property he would formerly have seized with open violence. In fact, the only time when two nations can be said to be in a state of perfect amity, is when a negotiation is open and a treaty pending. Then, as there are no stipulations entered into, no bonds to restrain the will, no specific Hmits to awaken the captious jealousy of right implanted in our nature, as each party has some advantage to hope and expect from the other, then it is that the two nations are so gracious and friendly to each other ; their ministers professing the highest mutual re- gard, exchanging biLLetsdoux, making fine speeches, and in- dulging in all those diplomatic flirtations, coquetries, and fond- lings, that do so marvellously tickle the good-himaour of the respective nations. Thus it may paradoxically be said, that there is never so good an understanding between two nations as when there is a little misunderstanding — and that so long as there are no terms, they are on the best terms in the world. I do not by any means pretend to claim the merit of having made the above political discovery. It has, in fact, long been secretly acted upon by certain enlightened cabinets, and is, together with divers other notable theories, privately copied out of the common-place book of an illustrious gentleman, who has been member of Congress and enjoyed the •unlimited con- fidence of heads of departments. To this principle may be ascribed the wonderful ingenuity that has been shown of late years in protracting and interrupting negotiations. Hence the cunning measure of appointing as ambassador some pohtical pettifogger sldUed in delays, sophisms and misapprehensions, and dexterous in the art of baflfling argument — or some blunder- ing statesman, whose errors and misconstructions may be a plea for refusing to ratify his engagements. And hence, too, that most notable expedient, so popular with our government, of sending out a brace of ambassadors ; who, having each an in- dividual will to consult, character to estabUsh, and interest to promote, you may as well look for unanimity and concord be- tween two lovers with one mistress, two dogs with one bone, or two naked rogues with one pair of breeches. This disagree- ment, therefore, is continually breeding delays and impedi- ments, in consequence of which the negotiation goes on swim- mingly — insomuch as there is no prospect of its ever coming to a close. Nothing is lost by these delays and obstacles but time, and in a negotiation, according to the theory I have 184 A HISTORY OF NEW-TOliK. exposed, all time lost is in reality so much time gained — with, what delightful paradoxes does modern pohtical economy abound ! Now all that I have here advanced is so notoriously true, that I almost blush to take up the time of my readers with treating of matters which must many a time have stared them in the face. But the proposition to which I would most earnestly call their attention, 'is this — that though a negotiation be the most harmonizing of all national transactions, yet a treaty of peace is a great political evil, and one of the most fruitful sources of war. I have rarely seen an instance of any special contract be- tween individuals, that did not produce jealousies, bickerings, and often downright ruptures between them ; nor did I ever know of a treaty between two nations, that did not occasion continual misunderstandings. How many worthy country neighbours have I known, who, after living in peace and good- f eUowship for years, have been thrown into a state of distrust, cavilling, and animosity, by some Ul-starred agreement about fences, runs of water, and stray cattle. And how many well- meaning nations, who would otherwise have remained in the most amicable disposition towards each other, have been brought to sword's points about the infringement or miscon- struction of sdme treaty, which in an evil hour they had con- cluded by way of making their amity more sure !. Treaties, at best, are but complied with so long as interest requires their fulfilment ; consequently, they are virtually bind- ing on the weaker party only, or, in plain truth, they are not binding at all. No nation will wantonly go to war with another, if it has nothing to gain thereby, and, therefore, needs no treaty to restrain it from violence ; and if it have any thing to gain, I mueh question, from what I have witnessed of the righteous conduct of nations, whether any treaty could be made so strong that it could not thrust the sword through— nay, I would hold, ten to one, the treaty itself would be the very source to which resort would be had, to find a pretext for hos- tilities. Thus, therefore, I conclude — ^that though it is the best of aU policies for a nation to keep up a constant negotiation with its neighbours, yet it is the summit of f oUy for it ever to be be- guiled into a treaty ; for then comes on the non-fulfilment and infraction, then remonstrance, then altercation, then retalia- tion, then recrimination, and finally open wAr. In a word, A UISTORT OF JSEW-YORK. 18;") negotiation is like courtship, a time of sweet words, gallant speeches, soft looks, and endearing caresses ; but the marriage ceremony is the signal for hostilities. CHAPTEE IV. HOW PETER STU VVESANT WAS GREATLY BELIED BY HIS ADTER- SARIES, THE MOSSTROOPERS — AND HIS CONDUCT THEREUPON. If my pains-taking reader be not somewhat perplexed, in the course of the ratiocination of my last chapter, he will doubtless at one glance perceive that the great Peter, in con- cluding a treaty with his eastern neighbours, was guilty of a lamentable error and heterodoxy in politics. To this unlucky agreement may justly be ascribed a world of little infringe- ments, altercations, negotiations, and bickerings, which after- wards took place between the irreproachable Stnyvesant, and the evU-disposed council of Amphyctions. All these did not a little disturb the constitutional serenity of the good burghers of Manna-hata ; but in sooth they were so very pitiful in their nature and efEects, that a grave historian, who grudges the time spent in any thing less than recording the fall of empires, and the revolution of worlds, would think them unworthy to be inscribed on his sacred page. The reader is, therefore, to take it for granted, though I scorn to waste in the detaQ that time which my furrowed brow and trembling hand inform me is invaluable, that aU the whUe the great Peter was occupied in those tremendous and bloody contests that I shall shortly rehearse, there was a continued series of little, dirty, snivelhng skirmishes, scour- ings, broils, and maraudings, made on the eastern frontiers, by the mosstroopers of Connecticut. But, like that min-or of chivalry, the sage and valorous Don. Quixote, I leave these petty contests for some future Sancho Panza of a historian, while I reserve my prowess and my pen for achievements of higher dignity. Now did the great Peter conclude, that his labours had come to a close in the east, and that he had nothing to do but apply himself to the internal prosperity of his beloved Manhattoes. Though a man of great modesty, he could not help boasting that ho had at length shut the temple of Janus, and that, were 186 ^ BISTORT OF NEW-TOnK. all rulers like a certain person who should be nameless, it would never be opened again. But the exultation of the worthy governor was put to a speedy check ; for scarce was the treaty concluded, and hardly was the ink dried on the paper, before the crafty and discourteous councU of the league sought a new pretence for re-illuming the flames of discord. It seems to be the nature of confederacies, republics, and such like powers, that want the true masculine character, to indulge exceedingly in certain feminine panics and suspicions. Like some good lady of dehcate and sickly virtue, who is in constant dread of having her vestal purity contaminated or seduced, and who, if a man do but take her by the hand, or look her in the face, is ready to cry out, rape ! and ruin ! — so these squeamish governments are perpetually on the alarm, for the virtue of the country ; every mardy measure is a violation of the constitution — every monarchy or other masculine gov- ernment around them is laying snares for their seduction ; and they are for ever detecting iufemal plots, by which they were to be betrayed, dishonom-ed, and "brought upon the town." If any proof were wanting of the truth of these opinions, I would instance the conduct of a certain repubUc of our day ; who, good dame, has already withstood so many plots and conspiracies against her virtue, and has so often come near being made "no better than she should be." I would notice her constant jealousies of poor old England, who, by her own account, has been incessantly trying to sap her honour; though, from my soul, I never could beheve the honest old gentleman meant her any rudeness. Whereas, on the con- trary, I think I have several times caught her squeezing hands and indulging in certain amorous oghngs with that sad feUow Buonaparte — who all the world knows to be a great despoUer of national virtue, to have ruined aU the empires in his neigh- bourhood, and to have debauched every repubUc that came in his way — ^but so it is, these rakes seem always to gain singular favour with the ladies. But I crave pardon of my reader for thus wandering, and will endeavour in some measure to apply the foregoing re- marks ; for in the year 1651, we are told, the great confederacy of the east accused the immaculate Peter — the soiH of honour and heart of steel — that by divers gifts and promises he had been secretly endeavouring to instigate the Narrohigansett, (or Narraganset) Mohaque, and Pequot Indians, to surprise and massacre the Yankee settlements. ' ' For, " as the council A HISTORY OF IfEW-TORK. 187 slanderously observed, "the Indians round about for divers hundred miles cercute, seeme to have drunke deep of an in- toxicating cupp, att or from the Manhatoes against the Eng- lish, whoe have sought their good, both in bodily and spirituall respects." History does not make mention how the great council of the Amphyctions came by this precious plot; whether it was honestly bought at a fair market price, or discovered by sheer good fortune — it is certain, however, that they examined divers Indians, who aU swore to the fact as sturdily as though they had been so many Christian troopers; and to be more sure of their veracity, the sage council previously made every mother's son of them devoutly drunk, remembering an old and trite proverb, which it is not necessary for me to repeat. Though descended from a family which suffered much in- jury from the losel Yankees of those times— my great-grand- father having had a yoke of oxen and his best pacer stolen, and having received a pair of black eyes and a bloody nose in one of these border wai-s ; and my grandfather, when a very little boy tending pigs, having been kidnapped and severely flogged by a long-sided Connecticut schoolmaster — yet I should have passed over aU these wrongs with forgiveness and obli- vion — I could even have suffered them to have broken Evert Ducking's head, to have kicked the doughty Jacobus Van Curlet and his ragged regiment out of doors, carried every hog into captivity, and depopulated every hen-roost on the face of the earth, with perfect impunity. — But this wanton attack upon one of the most gallant and irreproachable heroes of modern times is too much even for me to digest, and has over- set, with a single puff, the patience of the historian, and the forbearance of the Dutchman. Oh, reader, it was false! — I swear to thee, it was false! if thou hast any respect to my word— if the undeviating charac- ter for veracity, which I have endeavoured to maintain throughout this work, has its due weight with thee, thou wilt not give thy faith to this tale of slander; for I pledge my honour and my immortal fame to thee, that the gallant Peter Stuyvesant was not only innocent of this foul conspiracy, but would have suffered his right arm, or even his wooden leg, to consume with slow and everlasting flames, rather than at- tem.pt to destroy his enemies in any other way than open, generous warfare — beshrew those caitiff scouts, that conspired to sully his honest name by such an imputation. 1S8 ^ UISTORT OF NEW-TORK. Peter Stuyvesant, though he perhaps had never heard of a knight-errant, yet had he as true a heart of chivaky as ever beat at the round table of King Arthur. There was a spirit of native gallantry, a noble and generous hardihood diffused through his rugged manners, which altogether gave unques- tionable tokens of a heroic mind. He was, ia truth, a hero of chivalry, struck off by the hand of Nature at a siagle heat, and thotigh she had taken no further care to polish and refine her workmanship, he stood forth a miracle of her skill. But, not to be figurative, (a fault in historic writing which I particularly eschew,) the great Peter possessed, in an eminent degree, the seven renowned and noble virtues of knighthood, which, as he had never consulted authors in the disciphning and cultivating of his mind, I verily believe must have been implanted in the comer of his heart by dame Nature herself— where they flourished among his hardy qualities like so many sweet wild flowers, shooting forth and thriving with redundant luxuriance among stubborn rocks. Such was the mind of Peter the Headstrong, and if my admiration for it has, on this occasion, transported my style beyond the sober gravity which- becomes the laborious scribe of historic events, I can plead as an apology, that though a little gray -headed Dutch- man arrived almost at the bottom of the down-hiU of life, I Btm retain some portion of that celestial fire which sparkles in the eye of youth, when contemplating the virtues and achieve- ments of ancient worthies. Blessed, thrice and nine times blessed be the good St. Nicholas— that I have escaped the influ- ence of tjiat chilling apathy, which too often freezes the sym- pathies of age ; which, Kke a churlish spirit, sits at the portals of the heart, repulsing every genial sentiment, sjxd paralyzing every spontaneous glow of enthusiasm. No sooner, then, did this scoundrel imputation on his honour reach the ear of Peter Stuyvesant, than he proceeded in a man- ner which would have redounded to his credit, even though he had studied for years in the hbrary of Don Quixote himself. He unmediately despatched his valiant trumpeter and squire, Antony Van Corlear, with orders to ride night and day, as herald, to the Amphyctionic council, reproaching them, in terms of noble indignation, for giving ear to the slanders of heathen infidels, against the character of a Christian, a gentle- man, and a soldier — and declaring, that as to the treacherous and bloody plot alleged against him, whoever affirmed it to be true, lied in his teeth ! — to prove which, he defied the president A IJISTORY OF NEW-TORK. 189 of the council and all his compeers, or, if they pleased, their puissant champion, captain Ahcxsander Partridg, that mighty man of Rhodes, to meet him in single combat, where he would trust the vindication of his innocence to the pifowess of his arm. This challenge being delivered with due ceremony, Antony Van Corlear sounded a trumpet of defiance before the whole council, ending with a most horrific and nasal twang, fuU in the face of Captain Partridg, who almost jiunped out of his skin in an ecstasy of astonishment at the noise. This done, he mounted a tall Flanders mare, which he always rode, and trotted meri'ily towards the Manhattoes — passing through Hartford, and Piquag, and Middletown, and all the other bor- der towns — twanging his trumpet hke a very devil, so that the sweet valleys and banks of the Connecticut resounded with the warUke melody — and stopping occasionally to eat pmnpkin pies, dance at country frolics, and bundle with the beauteous lassos or those parts — whom he rejoiced exceedingly with his soul-stirring instrument. But the gi-and council, being composed of considerate men, had no idea of running a tUtiag with such a fiery hero as the hardy Peter — on the contrary, they sent him an answer couched in the meekest, the most mild and provoking terms, in which they assured him that his guilt was proved to their perfect satisfaction, by the testimony of divers sober and respectable Indians, and concluding with this truly amia- ble paragraph — "For youre confidant doniaUs of the Barbarous plott charged wfil waigh little in balance against such evi- dence, soe that we must still require and seeke due satisfaction and cecurite, so we rest. Sir, Youres in wayes of Righteousness, &c." I am aware that the above ■transaction has been differently recorded by certain historians of the east, and elsewhere ; who soom to havo inherited the bitter enmity of their ancestors to the brave Peter— and much good may their inheritance do them. These declare, that Peter Stuyvesant requested to nave the charges against him inquired into, by commissioners to be appointed for the purpose ; and yet, that when such commis- sioners were appointed, he refused to submit to their examina- tion. In this artful accoimt, there is but the semblance of ti'uth — he did, indeed, most gallantly offer, when that ho found a deaf ear was turned to his challenge, to submit his conduct to the rigorous inspection of a coiui; of honour— but then he 190 -4 HISTORY OF NEW-TORE. expected to find it an augufst tribunal, composed of courteous gentlemen, the governors and nobility of the confederate plan- tations, and of the province of New-Netherlands; where he might be tried by his peers, in a manner worthy of his rank and dignity — whereas, let me perish, if they did not send to the Manhattoes two lean-sided hungry pettifoggers, mounted on Narraganset pacers, with saddle-bags under their bottoms, and green satchels under their arms, as though they were about to beat the hoof from one county court to another in search of a law-suit. The chivalric Peter, as might be expected, took no notice of these cunning varlets ; who, with professional industry, f eU to prying and sifting about, in quest of ex parte evidence; per- plexing divers simple Indians and old women, with their cross- questioning, until they contradicted and forswore themselves most horribly. Thus having fulfilled their errand to theii- own satisfaction, they returned to the grand cotmcU with their satchels and saddle-bags stuffed full of vitlainous rumours, apocryphal stories, and outrageous calumnies, — for all which the great Peter did not care a tobacco-stopper ; but, I warrant me, had they attempted to play off the same trick upon Wil- liam the Testy, he would have treated them both to an aerial gambol on his patent gallows. The grand council of the east held a very solemn meeting, on the return of their envoys ; and after they had pondered a long time on the situation of affairs, were upon the point of adjourning without being able to agree upon any thing. At this critical moment, one of those meddlesome, indefatigable spirits, who endeavour to establish a character for patriotism by blowing the bellows of party, untU the whole furnace of politics is red-hot with sparks and cinders — and who have just cunning enough to know that there is no time so favourable for getting on the people's backs as when they are in a state of turmoil, and attending to every body's business but their own —this aspiring imp of faction, who was called a great poHti- cian, because he had secured a seat in council by calumniating all his opponents — he, I say, conceived this a fit opportunity to strike a blow that should secure his popularity among his con- stituents who lived on the borders of Nieuw-Nederlandt, and were the greatest poachers in Christendom, excepting the Scotch border nobles. Like a second Peter the Hermit, there- fore, he stood forth and preached up a crusade against Peter Stuyvcsant and his devoted city. A HIS TOBY OP' NEW- YORK. 191 He made a speech which lasted six hours, according to the ancient custom in these parts, in which he represented the Dutch as a race of impious heretics, who neither beheved in witchcraft, nor the sovereign virtues of horse-shoes — who left their country for the lucre of gain, not like themselves, for the enjoyment of liberty of conscience — ^who, in short, were a race of mere cannibals and anthropophagi, inasmuch as they never eat cod-fish on Saturday, devoured swine's flesh without mo- lasses, and held pumpkins in utter contempt. This speech had the desired effect, for the councU, being awakened by the sergeant-at-arms, rubbed their eyes, and de- clared that it was just and pohtic to declare instant war against these unchristian anti-pumpkinites. But it was neces- sary that the people at large should first be prepared for this measure; and for this purpose* the arguments of the orator were preached from the pulpit for several Sundays subse- quent, and earnestly recommended to the consideration of every good Christian, who professed as well as practiced the doctrines of meekness, charity, and the forgiveness of injuries. This is the first time we hear of the " drum ecclesiastic" beat- ing up for political recruits in oiu: country ; and it proved of such signal eflBcacy, that it has since been called into frequent service throughout our Union. A cunning politician is often found skulking under the clerical robe, with an outside all rehgion, and an inside all political rancour. Things spiritual and things temporal are strangely jumbled together, like poi- sons and antidotes on an apothecary's sheK ; and instead of a devout sermon, the simple church-going folk have often a po- litical pamphlet thrust down their throats, labelled with a pious text from Scripture. CHAPTER V. HOW THE NEW-AMSTERDAMERS BECAME GREAT IN ARMS, AOT> OF THE DrREPTJL CATASTEOPHE OF A MIGHTY ARMY — TO- GETHER WITH PETER STUYTESANT'S MEASURES TO FORTIFY THE CITY — AND HOW HE WAS THE ORIGrCTAL FOUNDER OF THE BATTERY. But, notwithstanding that the grand couneU, as I have already shown, were amazingly discreet in their proceedings respecting the New-Netherlands, and conducted the whole 192 A HIS TOBY OF NEW-TORE. with almost as much silence and mystery as does the sago British cabinet one of its ill-starred secret expeditions — yet did the ever-watchful Peter receive as full and accurate informa- iion of every movement as does the court of France of aU tho notable enterprises I have mentioned. He accordingly sot himself to work, to render the machinations of his bitter ad- versaries abortive. I know that many wiU censure the precipitation of this stout-hearted old governor, in that he hurried into the ex- penses of fortification, without ascertaining whether they were necessary, by prudently waiting until the enemy was at the door. But they should recollect that Peter Stuy vesant had not tne benefit of an insight into the modem arcana of politics, and was strangely bigoted to certain obsolete maxims of the old school; among which he firmly beUeved, that to render a country respected abroad, it was necessary to make it formid- able at home — and that a nation should place its reUance for peace and security more upon its own strength, than on the justice or good-will of its neighbours. He proceeded, therefore, with all dQigcnce, to put the province and naetropohs in a strong posture of defence. Among the few remnants of ingenious inventions which remaiaed from the days of WnUam the Testy, were those impregnable bulwarks of pubUc safety, militia laws ; by which the inhabitants were obhged to turn out twice a year, with such miUtary equipments — as it pleased God; and were put under the command of very valiant tailors, and manmiUiners, who though on ordinary occasions the meekest, pippia-hearted little men in the world, were very devils at parades and courts- martial, when they had cocked hats on their heads, and swords by their sides. Under the instructions of these peri- odical warriors, the gaUant train-bands made marvellous pro- ficiency in the mystery of gunpowder. They were taught to face to the right, to wheel to the left, to snap off empty fire- locks without winking, to turn a comer without any great uproar or irregularity, and to march through sun and raia from one end of the town to the other without flinching — until in the end they became so valorous, that they fired off blank cartridges, without so much as turning away their heads — could hear the largest field-piece discharged, without stopping their ears, or falling into much confusion — and woidd even go through all the fatigues and perils of a summer day's parade, without having their ranks much thinned by desertion ! A BISTORT OF NEW-TORE. 193 True it is, the genius of this truly pacific people was so Httle given to war, that during the tatervals which occurred be- tween field days, they generally contrived to forget all the military tuition they had received; so that when they reap peared on parade, they scarcely knew the butt-end of the mus- ket from the muzzle, and invariably mistook the right shoul- der for the left — a mistake which, however, was soon obviated by chalking their left arms. But whatever might be their blunders and awkwardness, the sagacious Kieft declared them to be of but httle importance — since, as he judiciously observed, one campaign would be of more instruction to them than a hundred parades ; for though two-thirds of them might be food for powder, yet such of the other third as did not run away would become most experienced veterans. The great Stuyvesant had no particular veneration for the ingenious experiments and institutions of his shrewd predeces- sor, and among other things held the militia system in very considerable contempt, which he was often heard to call m joke — for he was sometimes fond of a joke — governor Eieft's broken reed. As, however, the present emergency was press- ing, he was obUged to avail himself of such means of defence as were next at hand, and accordingly appointed a general in- spection and parade of the train-bands. But oh! Mars and BeUona, and all ye other powers of war, both great and small, what a turning out was here ! — Here came men without offi- cers, and officers without men— long fowling-pieces, and short blunderbusses — muskets of all sorts and sizes, some without bayonets, others without locks, others without stocks, and many without either lock, stock, or barrel — cartridge-boxes, shot-belts, powder-horns, swords, hatchets, snicker-snee^), crow-bars, and broomsticks, all mingled higgledy piggledy — like one of our continental armies at the breaking out of the revolution. This sudden transformation of a pacific community into a band of warriors, is doubtless what is meant, in modem days, by "putting a nation in armour," and "fixing it in an atti- tude" — in which armour and attitude it makes as martial a figure, and as hkely to acquit itself with as much prowess as the renowned Sancho Panza, when suddenly equipped to de- fend his island of Barataria. The sturdy Peter eyed this ragged regiment with some such rueful aspect as a man would eye the devil ; but knowing, like a wise man, that all he had to do was to make the best out of a 194 ^ BISTORT OF NEW-TORK. bad bargain, he determined to give his heroes a seasoning. Having, therefore, drilled them through the manual exercise over and over again, he ordered the fifes to strike up a quick march, and trudged his sturdy troops backwards and forwards about the streets of New-Amsterdam, and the fields adjacent, until their short legs ached, and their fat sides sweated again. But this was not all; the martial spirit of the old governor caught fire from the sprightly music of the fife, and he resolved to try the mettle of his troops, and give them a taste of the hardships of iron war. To this end he encamped them, as the shades of evening fell, upon a hill formerly called Bunker's HUl, at some distance from the town, with a full intention of initiating them into the discipline of camps, and of renewing, the next day, the toils and perils of the field. But so it came to pass, that in the night there fell a great and heavy rain, which descended in torrents upon the camp, and the mighty army strangely melted away before it; so that when Gaffer Phoebus came to shed his morning beams upon the place, saving Peter Stuyvesant and his trumpeter. Van Corlear, scarce one was to be found of all the multitude that had encamped there the night before. This awful dissolution of his army would have appalled a commander of less nerve than Peter Stuyvesant ; but he con- sidered it as a matter of but small importance, though he thenceforward regarded the militia system with ten times greater contempt than ever, and took care to provide himself with a good garrison of chosen men, whom he kept in pay, of whom he boasted that they at least possessed the quality, in- dispensable in soldiers, of being water-proof. The next care of the vigilant Stuyvesant was to sti-engthen and fortify New- Amsterdam. For this purpose, he caused to be built a strong picket fence, that reached across the island, from river to river, being intended to protect the city not merely from the sudden invasions of foreign enemies, but like- wise from the incursions of the neighbouring savages.* Some traditions, it is true, have ascribed the building of this * In an antique view of New- Amsterdam, taken some years after the aboTe period, is a representation of this wall, which stretched along the coui-se of Wall-street, so called in commemoration of this great bulwark. One gate, called the Land-Poort, opened upon Broadway, hard by where at present stands the Trinity Church; and another, called the Water- Poort, stood about where the Tontine Coffee-House is at present^opening upon Smits Vleye, or as it is commonly called, Smith Fly, then ?j marshy valley, with a creek or inlet extending up what we call Maiden-lane. A HISTORY OF NEW-TORK. 195 wall to a later period, but they are wholly incorrect; for a memorandvun in the Stu5rvesant manuscript, dated towards the middle of the governor's reign, mentions this wall particu- larly, as a very strong and curious piece of workmanship, and the admiration of all the savages in. the neighbourhood. And it mentions, moreover, the alarming circumstance of a drove of stray cows breaking through the grand wall of a dark night ; by which the whole community of New Amsterdam was thrown into a terrible panic. In addition to this great wall, he cast up several outworks to Fort Amsterdam, to protect the sea-board, at the point of the island. These consisted of formidable mud batteries, sohdly faced, after the manner of the Dutch ovens, common in those days, with clam-shells. These frowning bulwarks, in process of time, came to be pleasantly overrun by a verdant carpet of grass and clover, and their high embankments overshadowed by wide-spreading sycamores, among whose foUage the Uttle birds sported about, rejoicing the ear with their melodious notes. The old burghers would repair of an afternoon to smoke their pipes under the shade of their branches, contemplating the golden sun as he gradually sunk into the west, an emblem of that tranquil end towards which themselves were hastening — while the young men and the damsels of the town would take many a moon- light stroU among these favourite haunts, watching the silver beams of chaste Cynthia tremble along the calm bosom of the bay, or Ught up the white sail of some gliding bark, and inter- changing the honest vows of constant affection. Such was the origin of that renowned walk. The Battery, which, though ostensibly devoted to the purpose of war, has ever been conse- crated to the sweet deHghts of peace. The favourite walk of declining age — ^the healthful resort of the feeble invalid — ^the Sunday refreshment of the dusty tradesman — ^the scene of many a boyish gambol — the rendezvous of many a tender as- signation — ^the comfort of the citizen — ^the ornament of New- York, and the pride of the lovely island of Manna-hata. 196 ^ HISTORY OF NEW- YORE. CHAPTER VI. HOW THE PEOPLE OF THE EAST COUNTRY WEEE SUDDENLY AFFLICTED WITH A DIABOLICAL EVIL— AND THEIR JUDICIOUS MEASURES FOE THE EXTIRPATION THEREOF. Having thus provided for the temporary security of New- Amsterdam, and guarded it against any sudden surprise, the gallant Peter took a heariiy piach of snuff, and, snapping his fingers, set the great council of Amphyctions, and their cham- pion, the doughty Alicxsander Partridg, at defiance. It is im- possible to say, notwithstanding, what might have been th« is- sue of this affair, had not the council been all at once involved in sad perplexity, and as much dissension sown among its members, as of yore was stirred up iu the camp of the brawling warriors of Greece. The council of the league, as I have shown in my last chap- ter, had already annoimced its hostile determinations, and al- ready was the mighty colony of New-Haven, and the puissant town of Piquag, otherwise called Weathersfield — famous for its onions and its witches — and the great trading house of Hartford, and all the other redoubtable border towns, in a prodigious tur- moil, furbishing up their rusty fowHng-pieces, and shouting aloud for war ; by which they anticipated easy conquests, and gorgeous spoils, from the httle fat Dutch villages. But this joyous brawling was soon silenced by the conduct of the colony of Massachusetts. Struck with the gallant spirit of the brave old Peter, and convinced by the chivalric frankness and heroic warmth of his vindication, they refused to beheve him guilty of the infamous plot most wrongfully laid at his door. With a generosity for which I would yield them immortal honour, they declared that no determination of the grand council of the league should bind the general court of Massachusetts to join in an offensive war which should appear to such general court to be unjust.* This refusal immediately involved the colony of Massachu- setts and the other combined colonies in very serious difficul- ties and disputes, and would no doubt have produced a dissolu- tion of the confederacy, but that the council of Amphyctions, * Haz. Col. State Papers. A UISTORT OF NEW-YORK. 197 finding that they could not stand alone, if mutilated hy the loss of so important a member as Massachusetts, were fain to abandon for the present their hostile machinations against the Manhattoes. Such is the marvellous energy and the puissance of those confederacies, composed of a number of sturdy, self- willed, discordant parts, loosely banded together by a puny general government. As it was, however, the warlike towns of Connecticut had no cause to deplore this disappointment of their martial ardour ; for by my faith — though the combined powers of the league might have been too potent, in the end, for the robustious warriors of the Manhattoes — yet in the in- terim would the hon-hearted Peter and his myrmidons have choked the stomachful heroes of Piquag with their own onions, and have given the other little border towns such a scouring, that I warrant they would have had no stomach to squat on the land, or invade the hen-roost of a New-Nederlander, for a century to come. Indeed, there was more than one cause to divert the atten- tion of the good people of the east from their hostile purposes ; for just about this time were they horribly beleaguered and harassed by the inroads of the prince of darkness, divers of whose hege subjects they detected lurking within their camp, all of whom they incontinently roasted as so many spies and dangerous enemies. Not to speak in parables, we are in- formed, that at this juncture the New-England provinces were exceedingly troubled by multitudes of losel witches, who -vrought strange devices to beguile and distress the mul- titude; and notwithstanding numerous judicious and bloody laws had been enacted against all ' ' solemn conversing or com- pacting with the divil, by way of conjuracon or the like,"* yet did the dark crime of witchcraft continue to increase to an alarming degree, that would almost transcend belief, were not the fact too well authenticated to be even doubted for an instant. What is particularly worthy of admiration is, that this ter- rible art, which so long has baffled the painful researches and abstruse studies of philosophers, astrologers, alchymists, the- urgists, and other sages, was chiefly confined to the most igno- rant, decrepit, and ugly old women in the community, who had scarcely more brains than the broomsticks they rode upon. * New-Plymouth Record. 198 ^ IIKTORT OF NEWIORE. When onc'e an alarm is sounded, the public, who love dearly to be in a panic, are not long in want of proofs to support it — raise but the cry of yeUow fever, and immediately every head- ache, and indigestion, and overflowing of the bUe, is pro- nounced the terrible epidemic. In Mke manner, in the pres- ent instance, whoever was troubled with cohc or lumbago, was sure to be bewitched; and woe to any unlucky old woman that lived in his neighbourhood. Such a howling abomination could not be suffered to remain long unnoticed, and it accord- ingly soon attracted the fiery indignation of the sober and re- flective part of the community— more especially of those, who, whUome, had evinced st> much active benevolence in the con- version of Quakers and Anabaptists. The grand council of the Amphyctions publicly set their faces against so deadly and dangerous a sin ; and a severe scrutiny took place after those nefarious witches, who were easily detected by devil's pinches, black cats, broomsticks, and the circumstance of their only being able to weep three tears, and those out of the left eye. It is incredible the number of offences that were detected, "for every one of which," says the profound and reverend Cotton Mather, in that excellent work, the History of New- England — "we have such a suflicient evidence, that no rea- sonable man in this whole country ever did question them ; and it will be unreasonable to do it in any other." * Indeed, that authentic and judicious historian, John Jos- selyn, Gent., furnishes us with unquestionable facts on this subject. "There are none," observes he, "that beg in this country, but there be witches too many — bottle-bellied witches and others, that produce majiy strange apparitions, if you will believe report, of a shallop at sea manned with women — and of a ship, and great red horse standing by the mainmast; the ship being in small cove to the eastward, vanished of a sud- den," etc. The number of delinquents, however, and their magical de- vices, were not more remarkable than their diabolical obsti- nacy. Though exhorted in the most solemn, persuasive, and affectionate manner, to confess themselves guilty, and be burnt for the good of religion, and the entertainment of the public ; yet did they most pertinaciously persist in asserting their innocence. Such incredible obstinacy was in itself de- serving of immediate punishment, and was suflScient proof, if * Mather's Hist. New Eng., b. 6, ch. 7. A HISTORY OF jVEW-TOIiK. 199 proof were necessary, that they were in league with the devil, who is perverseness itself. But their judges were just and merciful, and were determined to punish none that were not convicted on the best of testimony ; not that they needed any evidence to satisfy their own miads, for, like true and experi- enced judges, their minds were perfectly made up, and they were thoroughly satisfied of the guilt of the prisoners, before they proceeded to try them ; but still something was necessary to convince the community at large — to quiet those pryiag quidnuncs who should come after them— in short, the world must be satisfied. Oh, the world — the world !— all the world knows the world of trouble the world is eternally occasioning ! • — The worthy judges, therefore, were driven to the necessity of sifting, detecting, and making evident as noon-day, matters which were at the commencement ad clearly imderstood and firmly decided upon in their own pericraniums —so that it may truly be said that the witches were burnt to gratify the popu- lace of the day — but were tried for the satisfaction of the whole world that should come after them. Finding, therefore, that neither exhortation, sound reason, nor friendly entreaty had any avail on these hardened offend- ers, they resorted to the more urgent arguments of the tor- ture, and having thus absolutely wrung the truth from their stubborn lips, they condemned them to undergo the roasting due unto the heinous crimes they had confessed. Some even carried their perverseness so far as to expire under the torture, protesting their innocence to the last; but these were looked upon as thoroughly and absolutely possessed by the devil, and the pious by-standers only lamented that they had not lived a little longer, to have perished in the flames. In the city of Ephesus, we are told that the plague was ex- pelled by stoning a ragged old beggar to death, whom Appo- lonius pointed out as being the evil spirit that caused it, and who actually showed himself to be a demon, by changing into a shagged dog. In like manner, and by measures equally sa- gacious, a salutary check was given to this growing evil. The witches were aU burnt, banished, or panic-struck, and in a little while there was not an ugly old woman to be found throughout New-England — which is doubtless one reason why all the young women there are so handsome. Those honest folk who had suffered from their incantations gradually recov- ered, excepting such as had been afflicted with twitches and aches, which, however, assumed the less alarming aspect of 200 A niSTORT OF NEW- YORK. rheumatism, sciatics, and lumbagos — and the good people of New-England, abandoning the study of the occult sciences, turned their attention to the more profitable hocus-pocus of trade, and soon became expert in the legerdemain art of turn- ing a penny. StiU, however, a tinge of the old leaven is dis- cernible, even unto this day, in their characters — ^witches oc- casionally start up among them in different disguises, as physicians, civihans, and divines. The people at large show a keenness, a cleverness, and a profundity of wisdom that savours strongly of witchcraft — and it has been remarked, that whenever any stones fall from the moon, the greater part of them are sure to tumble into New-England! CHAPTER Vn. ■WHICH RECORDS THE RISE AND RENOWN OF A VAUANT COM- MANDER, SHOWING THAT A MAN, LIKE A BLADDER. MAT BE POTTED UP TO GREATNESS AND IMPORTANCE BY MERE WIND. When treating of these tempestuous times, the unknown writer of the Stuyvesant manuscript breaks out into a vehe- ment apostrophe, in praise of the good St. Nicholas ; to whose protecting care he entirely ascribes the strange dissensions that broke out in the council of the Amphyctions, and the direful witchcraft that prevailed in the east country — whereby the hostile machinations against the Nederlanders were for a time frustrated, and his favourite city of New-Amsterdam preserved from imminent peril and deadly warfare. Darkness and lowering superstition hung over the fair valleys of the east; the pleasant banks of the Connecticut no longer echoed with the sounds of rustic gayety ; direful phantoms and por tentous apparitions were seen in the air — gliding spectrums haunted every wild brook and dreary glen — strange voices, made by viewless forms, were heard in desert solitudes — and the border towns were so occupied in detecting and punishing the knowing old women who had produced these alarming ap- pearances, that for a while the province of Nieuw-Nederlandt and its inhabitants were totally forgotten. The "Ti^pt Peter, therefore, finding that nothing was to be immodiatoly apprehended from his eastern neighbours, tvimed A UISTORT OF NEW-YORK. 201 himself about, with a praiseworthy vigilance that ever dis- tinguished him, to put a stop to the insults of the Swedes. These freebooters, my attentive reader will recollect, had be- gun to be very troublesome towards the latter part of the reign of WiUiam the Testy, having set the proclamations of that doughty Uttle governor at nought, and put the intrepid Jan Jansen Alpendam to a perfect nonplus 1 Peter Stuyvesant, however, as has already been shown, was a governor of different habits and turn of mind — without more ado, he immediately issued orders for raising a corps of troops to be stationed on the southern frontier, under the command of brigadier-general Jacobus Van Poffenburgh. This illustri- ous warrior had risen to great importance during the reign of Wilhelmus Kieft, and if histories speak true, was second in command to the hapless Van Curlet, when he and his ragged regiment were inhumanly kicked out of Fort Good Hope by the Yankees. In consequence of having been in such a "mem- orable affair," and of having received more wounds on a cer- tain honourable part that sb£ill be nameless than any of his comrades, he was ever after considered as a hero, who had "seen some service." Certain it is, he enjoyed the unlimited confidence and friendship of WiUiani the Testy; who woidd sit for hours, and listen with wonder to his gimpowder narra- tives of surprising victories— he had never gained ; and dread- ful battles— from which he had run away. It was tropically observed by honest old Socrates, that heaven had infused into some men at their birth a portion of intellectual gold; into others of intellectual silver; while others were bounteously furnished out with abundance of brass and iron -now of this last class was imdoubtedly the great Gen- eral Van Poffenburgh; and from the display he continually made thereof, I aha inclined to think that dame Nature, who will sometimes be partial, had blessed him with enough of those valuable materials to have fitted up a dozen ordinary braziers. But what is most to be admired is, that he contrived to pass off all his brass and copper upon Wilhelmus Kieft, who was no great judge of base coin, as pure and genuine gold. The consequence was, that upon the resignation of Jacobus Van Curlet, who, after the loss of Fort Good Hope, retired, like a veteran general, to live under the shade of his laurels, the mighty "copper captain" was promoted to his station. This he filled with great importance, always styling himself commander-in-chief of the armies of New Netherlands ;" though. 202 ^ BISTORT OF NEW- YORK. to tell the truth, the armies, or rather army, consisted of a handful of hen-stealing, bottle-bruising ragamuffins. Such was the character of the warrior appointed by Peter Stuyvesant to defend his southern frontier ; nor may it be un- interesting to my reader to have a gMmpse of his person. He was not very taU, but notwithstanding, a huge, full-bodied man, whose bulk did not so much arise from his being fat, as windy, beiug so completely inflated with his own importance, that he resembled one of those bags of wind which ^olus, in an incredible fit of generosity, gave to that wandering warrior Ulysses. His dress comported with his character, for he had almost as much brass and copper without as nature had stored away within — his coat was crossed and slashed, and carbonadoed with stripes of copper lace, and swathed round the body with a crimson sash, of the size and texture of a fishing-net, doubt- less to keep his valiant heart from bursting through his ribs. His head and whiskers were profusely powdered, from the midst of which his full-blooded face glowed like a fiery fur- nace ; and his magnanimous soul seemed ready to bounce out at a pair of large, glassy, blinJdng eyes, which projected like those of a lobster. I swear to thee, worthy reader, if report belie not this war- rior, I would give aU the m.oney in my pocket to have seen him accoutred cap-a-pie, in martial array — booted to the mid- dle — sashed to the chin — collared to the ears— whiskered to the teeth— crowned with an overshadowing cocked hat, and girded with a leathern belt ten inches broad, from -which trailed a falchion, of a length that I dare not mention. Thus equipped, he strutted about, as bitter-looking a man of war as the far- famed More of More Hall, when he sallied forth, armed at all points, to slay the Dragon of "Wantley.* Notwithstanding all these great endowments and transcend- ent qualities of this renowned general, I must confess he was not exactly the kind of man that the gallant Peter would have * " Had you but seen him in his dress. How fierce he look'd and how big; You would have thought him for to be Some Egyptian Porcupig. " He frighted all, cats, dogs, and all. Each cow, each horse, and each hog; For fear they did flee, for they took him to be Some strange outlandish hedge-hog." —Ballad of Drag, of Want. A mSTORT OF NEW- YORK. 203 chosen to commaad his troops — but the truth is, that in those days the province did not abound, as at present, in great mili- tary characters ; who, Uke so many Oincionatuses, people every Uttle village — marshalling out cabbages instead of soldiers, and signalizing themselves in the corn-field, instead of the field of battle ; — who have surrendered the toils of war for the more useful but inglorious arts of peace ; and so blended the laurel with the ohve, that you may have a general for a landlord, a colonel for a stage-driver, and your horse shod by a valiant " captain of volunteers." The redoubtable General Van Poffen- burgh, therefore, was appointed to the command of the new- levied troops, chiefly because there were no competitors for the station, and partly because it would have been a breach of military etiquette to have appointed a yoimger officer over his head — an injustice which the great Peter would have rather died than have committed. No sooner did this thrice-valiant copper captain receive marching orders, than he conducted his army undauntedly to the southern frontier ; through wild lands and savage deserts ; over insurmomitable mountains, across impassable floods, and through unpenetrable forests; subduing a vast tract of muD- habited cotmtry, and encountering more perils, according to his own account, than did ever the great Xenophon in his far- famed retreat with his ten thousand Grecians. AH this ac- complished, he established on the South (or Delaware) river, a redoubtable redoubt, named Fort CAsmm, in honour of a favourite pair of brimstone-coloured tnm.k breeches of the governor. As this fort will be found to give rise to very im- poi-tant and interesting events, it may be worth whflo to notice that it was afterwards called Nieuw-Amstel, and was the ori- ginal germ of the present flourishing town of New-Castle, an appellation erroneously substituted for No Castle, there neither being, nor ever having been, a castle, or any thing of the kind, upon the premises. The Swedes did not suffer tamely this menacing movement of the Nederlanders ; on the contrary, Jan Printz, at that time governor of New-Sweden, issued a protest against what he termed an encroachment upon his Jurisdiction. But Van Pof- fenburgh had become too weU versed in the nature of procla- mations and protests, while he served under William the Testy, to be in any wise daunted by such paper warfare. His fortress being finished, it would have done any man's heart good to be- hold into what a magnitude he immediately swelled. He would 204 A inSTOKT OF NEW- TOIIK. stride in and out a dozen times a day, Burveying it in front and in rear ; on this side and on that. Then would he dress himself in full regimentals, and strut backwards and forwards, for hours together, on the top of his Uttle rampart — ^like a vain-glorious cock-pigeon, vapouring on the top of his coop. In a word, un- less my readers have noticed, with curious eye, the petty com- mander of one of our Mttle, snivelling military posts, swelling with all the vanity of new regimentals, and the pomposity derived from commanding a handful of tatterdemalions, I de- spair of giving them any adequate idea of the prodigious dig- nity of General Von Poffenburgh. It is recorded, in the delectable romance of Pierce Forest, that a yoimg knight being dubbed by king Alexander, did inconti- nently gallop into an adjoining forest, and belabom-ed the trees with such might and main, that the whole comi; was convinced that he was the most potent and coucrageous gentleman on the face of the earth. In like manner the great Van Poffenburgh would ease ofE that valorous spleen, which like wind is so apt to grow so unruly in the stomachs of new-made soldiers, impel- ling them to box-lobby brawls and broken-headed quarrels. For at such times, when he found his martial spirit waxing hot within him, he would prudently sally forth into the fields, and lugging out his trusty sabre, would lay about him most lustily, decapitating cabbages by platoons ; hewing down whole pha- lanxes of sunflowers, which he termed gigantic Swedes ; and if, peradventure, he espied a colony of honest, big-heUied pump- kins quietly basking themselves in the sun, " Ah, caitifif Yan- kees," would he roar, "have I caught ye at last?" — so saying, with one sweep of his sword, he woiild cleave the unhappy vegetables from their chins to their waistbands ; by which war- like havoc his choler being in some sort allayed, he would return to his garrison with a fuU conviction that he was a very miracle of military prowess. The next ambition of General Van Poffenburgh was to be thought a strict disciplinarian. Well knowing that disci- pline is the soul of all mihtary enterprise, he enforced it with the most rigorous precision; obhging every man to turn out his toes and hold up his head on parade, and prescribing the breadth of their ruffles to aU such as had any shirts to their backs. Having one day, in the course of his devout researches in the Bible, (for the pious Eneas himself could not exceed him in outward religion,) encountered the liistory of Absalom and his A mSTORT OV Si FAY- YORK. 205 melancholy end, the general, in an evil hour, issued orders for cropping the hair of both officers and men throughout the gar- rison. Now it came to pass, that among his officers was one KUdermeester, a sturdy veteran, who had cherished, through the course of a long life, a rugged mop of hair, not a little re- sembling the shag of a Newfoundland dog, terminating with an immoderate queue Uke the handle of a frying-pan; and queued so tightly to his head, that his eyes and moixth gener- ally stood ajar, land his eyebrows were drawn up to the top of his forehead. It may naturally be supposed that the possessor of so goodly an appendage would resist with abhorrence an order condemning it to the shears. On hearing the general orders, he discharged a tempest of veteran, soldier-hke oaths, and dunder and blixums — swore he would break any man's head who attempted to meddle with his tail— queued it stiffer than ever, and whisked it about the garrison as fiercely as the tail of a crocodile. The eel-skin queue of old KUdermeester became instantly an affair of the utmost importance. The commander-in-chief was too enhghtened an officer not to perceive that the discipline of the garrison, the subordination and good order of the armies of the Nieuw-Nederlandts, the consequent safety of the whole province, and ultimately the dignity and prosperity of their High Mightinesses, the Lords States General, but above all, the dignity of the great General Van Poffenburgh, all imperiously demanded the docking of that stubborn queue. He therefore determined that old Kildermeester should he pubMcly shorn of liis glories in the presence of the whole garrison — the old man as resolutely stood on the defensive — ^whereupon the general, as became a great man, was highly exasperated, and the offen- der was arrested and tried by a court-martial for mutiny, de- sertion, and all the other fist of offences noticed in the articles of war, ending with a " videhcet, in wearing an eel-skin queue, three feet long, contrary to orders." — Then came on arraign- ments, and trials, and pleadings ; and the whole country was in a ferment about this unfortunate queue. As it is well known that the commander of a distant frontier post has the power of acting pretty much after his own will, there is Mttle doubt that the veteran would have been hanged or shot at least, had he not luckily fallen iU of a fever, through mere chagTin and mor- tification—and most flagitiously deserted from all earthly com- mand, with his beloved locks unviolated. His obstinacy re- mained unshaken to the very last moment, when he directed 206 ^ HISTORY OF NEW-TORE. that lie should be carried to his grave with his eel-skin queue sticking out of a hole in his coflBn. This magnanimous afcair obtained the general great credit as an excellent disciplinarian, but it is hinted that he was ever after subject to bad dreams and fearful visitations in the night — when the grizzly spectrum of old KUdermeester would stand sentinel by his bed-side, erect as a pimip, his enormous queue ebrutting out like the handle. A mSTOUT OF NEW- YORK. . 207 BOOK VI. CONTAINING THE SECOND PART OF THE REIGN OF PETER THE HEADSTRONG, AND HIS GALLANT A CHIE YEMEN TS ON THE DELA WARE. CHAPTEE I. IN WHICH IS EXHIBITED A WARLIKE PORTEAIT OF THE GREAT PETER— AND HOW GENERAL VAN POFFENBURGH DISTINGUISHED HIMSELF AT FORT CASIMIR. Hitherto, most venerable and courteous reader, have I shown thee the administration of the valorous Stuyvesant, under the mild moonshine of peace, or rather the grim tran- quiUity of awful expectation ; but now the war-drum rumbles from afar, the brazen trumpet brays its thriUing note, and the rude clash of hostile arms speaks fearful prophecies of coming troubles. The gallant warrior starts from soft repose, from golden visions, and voluptuous ease; where, in the dulcet, "piping time of peax:e," he sought sweet solace after all his toils. No more in beauty's syren lap reclined, he weaves fair garlands for his lady's brows ; no more entwines with flowers his shining sword, nor through the live-long lazy summer's day chants forth his lovesick soul in madrigals. To manhood roused, he spurns the amorous flute; dofiEs fi'om his brawny back the robe of peace, and clothes his pampered limbs in panoply of steel. O'er his dark brow, where late the myrtle waved, where wanton roses breathed enervate love, he rears the beaming casque and nodding plume; grasps the bright shield and shakes the ponderous lance ; or mounts with eager pride his fiery steed, and bums for deeds of glorious chivalry ! But soft, worthy reader! I would not have you imagine, that any preux chevalier, thus hideously begirt with iron, existed in the city of New-Amsterdam. This is but a lofty and gigantic mode in which heroic writers always talk of war, thereby to give it a noble and imposing aspect ; equipping our 208 ^ HISTORY OF NKW-TORK. warriors with bucklers, helms, and lances, and such like out- landish and obsolete weapons, the like of which perchance they had never seen or heard of ; in the same manner that a cunning statuary arrays a modern general or an admiral ia the ac- coutrements of a Caesar or an Alexander. The simple truth, then, of all this oratorical flourish is this — ^that the valiant Peter Stuyvesant all of a sudden foimd it necessary to scour his trusty blade, which too long had rusted in its scabbard, and prepare himself to undergo those hardy toils of war in which his mighty soul so much delighted. Methinks I at this moment behold him in my imagination — or rather, I behold his goodly portrait, which stOl hangs up in the family mansion of the Stuy vesants — arrayed in aU the ter- rors of a true Dutch general. His regimental coat of German blue, gorgeously decorated with a goodly show of large brass buttons reaching from his waistband to his chin. The voliun- inous skirts turned up at the comers, and separating gallantly behind, so as to display the seat of a sumptuous pair of brim- stone-coloured trunk breeches— a graceful style still prevalent among the warriors of our day, and which is in conformity to the custom of ancient heroes, who scorned to defend themselves in the rear. His face rendered exceedingly terrible and war- like by a parr of black mustachios ; his hair strutting out on each side in stiffly pomatumed ear-locks, and descending in a rat-tail queue below his waist ; a shining stock of black leather supporting his chin, and a Mttle but fierce cocked hat stuck with a gallant and fiery air over his left eye. Such was the chivalric port of Peter the Headstrong; and when he made a sudden halt, planted himself firmly on his soUd supporter, with his wooden leg inlaid with silver, a httle ia advance, in order to strengthen his position, his right hand grasping a gold- beaded cane, his left resting upon the pummel of his sword ; his head dressing spiritedly to the right, with a most appalling and hard-favom-ed frown upon his brow — he presented al- together one of the most commanding, bitter-looking, and ' soldier-hke figures that ever strutted upon canvas. Proceed we now to inquire the cause of this warlike preparation. The encroaching disposition of the Swedes, on the South, or Delaware river, has been duly recorded in the chronicles of the reign of WiUiam the Testy. These encroachments having been endured with that heroic magnanimity which is the corner-stone of true courage, had been repeatedly and wickedly aggravated. A lIISrOKT OF NEW- YORK. 209 The Swedes, who were of that class of cunning pretenders to Christianity, who read the Bible upside-down, whenever it interferes with their interests, inverted the golden maxim, and when their neighbour sufEered them to smite him on the one cheek, they generally smote him on the other also, whether turned to them or not. Their repeated aggressions had been among the numerous sources of vexation that conspired to keep the irritable sensibilities of WOhelmus Kief t in a constant fever, and it was only owing to the unfortunate circumstance, that he had always a hundred things to do at once, that he did not take such imrelenting vengeance as their offences merited. But they had now a chieftain of a different character to deal with; and they were soon guilty of a piece of treachery, that threw his honest blood into a ferment, and precluded all further sufferance. Printz, the governor of the province of New-Sweden, being either deceased or removed, for of this fact some uncertainty exists, was succeeded by Jan Risingh, a gigantic Swede, and who, had he not been rather knock-kneed and splay-footed, might have served for the model of a Samson or a Hercules. He was no less rapacious than mighty, and withal as crafty as he was rapacious; so that, in fact, there is very little doubt, had he Mved some four or five centuries before, he would have been one of those wicked giants, who took such a cruel pleasure in pocketing distressed damsels, when gadding about the world, and locking them up ia enchanted castles, without a toilet, a change of linen, or any other convenience — ^in consequence of which enormities, they fell under the high displeasure of chivalry, and all true, loyal, and gaUant knights were instructed to attack and slay outright any miscreant they might happen to find, above sis feet high ; which is doubtless one reason that the race of large men is nearly extinct, and the generations of latter ages so exceeding smaU. No sooner did Governor Risingh enter upon his office, than be immediately cast his eyes upon the important post of Fort Casimir, and formed the righteous resolution of taking it into his possession. The only thing that remained to consider, was the mode of carrying his resolution into effect ; and here I must do bJTn the justice to say, that he exhibited a humanity rarely to be met with among leaders, and which I have never seen equalled in modern times, excepting among the English, in their glorious affair at Copenhagen. Willing to spare the effusion of blood, and the miseries of open warfare, he benevo- 210 A HISTORY OF NEW-YORK. lently shunned everything like avowed hostility or regular siege, and resorted to the less glorious, hut more merciful expedient of treachery. Under pretence, therefore, of paying a neighbourly visit to Greneral Van Poffenburgh, at his new post of Fort Casimir, he made requisite preparation, sailed in great state up the Dela- ware, displayed his flag with the most ceremonious punctilio, and honoured the fortress with a royal salute, previous to droppiug anchor. The unusual noise awakened a veteran Dutch sentinel, who was napping faithfully at his post, and who, having suffered his match to go out, contrived to return the compliment, by discharging his rusty musket with the spark of a pipe, which he borrowed from one of his comrades. The salute indeed wovdd have been answered by the guns of the fort, had they not unf ortiinately been out of order, and the mag- azine deficient in ammunition — accidents to which forts have in all ages been hable, and which were the more excusable in the present instance, as Fort Casimir had only been erected about two years, and General Van Poffenburgh, its mighty commander, had been fully occupied with matters of much greater importance. Eisingh, highly satisfied with this courteous reply to his salute, treated the fort to a second, for he well knew its com- mander was marvellously dehghted with these Httle ceremo- nials, which he considered as so many acts of homage paid unto his greatness. He then landed in great state, attended by a suite of thirty men — a prodigious and vain-glorious retinue, for a petty governor of a petty settlement, in those days of primitive sinipMcity ; and to the full as great an army as generally swells the pomp and marches in the rear of our frontier commanders, at the present day. The nimiber, in fact, might have awakened suspicion, had not the mind of the great Van Poffenburgh been so completely engrossed with an all-pervading idea of himself, that he had not room to admit a thought besides. In fact, he considered the concourse of Eisingh's followers as a compliment to himself— so apt are great men to stand between themselves and the sun, and completely eclipse the truth by their own shadow. It may readily be imagined how much General Van Poffen- burgh was flattered by a visit from so august a personage ; his only embarrassment was, how he should receive him in such a •manner as to appear to the greatest advantage, and make the most advantageous impression. The main guard was ordered A HISrORT OV NEW-TORK. 211 immediately to turn out, and the arms and regimentals (of which the garrison possessed full half-a-dozen suits) were equally distributed among the soldiers. One taU lank fellow appeared in a coat intended for a small man, the skirts of which reached a little below his waist, the buttons were between his shoulders, and the sleeves half-way to his wrists, so that his hands looked like a couple of huge spades — and the coat, not being large enough to meet in front, was linked together by loops, made of a pair of red worsted garters. An- other had an old cocked hat stuck on the back of his head, and decorated with a bunch of cocks' tails — a third had a pair of rusty gaiters hanging about his heels— while a fourth, who weis short and duck-legged, was equipped in a huge pair of the gen- eral's cast-off breeches, which he held up with one hand, while he grasped his firelock with the other. The rest were accoutred in similar style, excepting three graceless ragamuffins, who had no shirts, and but a pair and a half of breeches between them, wherefore they were sent to the black hole to keep them out of view. There is nothing in which the talents of a pru- dent commander are more completely testified, than in thus setting matters off to the greatest advantage ; and it is for this reason that our frontier posts of the present day (that of Niagara for example) display their best suit of regimentals on the back of the sentinel who stands in sight of travellers. His men being thus gallantly arrayed — those who lacked muskets shouldering spades and pickaxes, and every man being ordered to tuck in his shirt-taU and pull up his brogues —General Van Poffenburgh first took a sturdy draught of foaming ale, which, like the magnanimous More of Morehall,* was his invariable practice on aU gTeat occasions — which done, he put himself at their head, ordered the pine planks, which served as a draw-bridge, to be laid down, and issued forth from his castle like a mighty giant just refreshed with wine. But when the two heroes met, then began a scene of warlike parade and chivalric courtesy that beggars all description— Eisingh, who, as I before hinted, was a shrewd, cunning poli- tician, and had grown gray much before his time, in conse- quence of his craftiness, saw at one glance the rulLi:,^ passion * " a.s soon as he rose, To make him strong and mighty. He drank by the tale, six pots of ale And a quart of aqua-vitas.'' 212 A HTSTORT OF NEW-TOUK. of the great Van PofEenburgh, and humoured him in all his valorous fantasies. Their detachments were accordingly drawn up in front of each other ; they carried arms and they presented arms ; they gave the standing salute and the passing salute — they roUed their drums and flourished their fifes, and they waved their colours — they faced to the left, and they faced to the right, and they faced to the right about— they wheeled forward, and they wheeled backward, and they wheeled into echcllon — ^they marched and they coimtermarched, by grand divisions, by single divisions, and by sub-divisions — by platoons, by sections, and by files— in quick time, in slow time, and in no time at all : for, having gone through all the evolutions of two great armies, including the eighteen manoeuvres of Dundas, having exhausted all that they could recoUect or imagine of military tactics, including sundry strange and irregular evolutions, the like of which was never seen before nor suice, excepting among certain of our newly-raised militia, the two great commanders and their respective troops came at length to a dead halt, com- pletely exhausted by the toils of war. Never did two valiant train-hand captains, or two buskined theatric heroes, in the re- nowned tragedies of Pizarro, Tom Thumb, or any other heroical and fighting tragedy, marshal their gaUows-looking, duck-legged, heavy-heeled myrmidons with more glory and self -admiration. These mUitary compliments being finished, General Van Poffenburgh escorted his illustrious visitor, with great cere- mony, into the fort; attended him throughout the fortifica- tions ; showed him the horn- works, crown- works, haK-moons, and various other outworks ; or rather the places where they ought to be erected, and where they might be erected if he pleased ; plainly demonstrating that it was a place of ' ' great capability," and though at present but a little redoubt, yet that it evidently was a formidable fortress, in embryo. This survey over, he next had the whole garrison put under arms, exercised and reviewed, and concluded by ordering the three Bridewell birds to be hauled out of the black hole, brought up to the halberts and soundly flogged for the amusement of hib visitor, and to convince him that he was a great discipli- narian. The cunning Eisingh, while Tie pretended to be struck dumb outright, with the puissance of the great Van Poffenburgh, took silent note of the incompetency of hie garrison, of which A UISrORT OF NEW-YORK. 213 he gave a hint to his trusty followers, who tipped each other the wink, and laughed most obstreperously — in their sleeves. The inspection, review, and flogging being concluded, the party adjourned to the table; for among his other great quali- ties, the general was remarkably addicted to huge entertain- ments, or rather carousals, and in one afternoon's campaign would leave more dead men on the field than he ever did in the whole course of his military career. Many bulletins of these bloodless victories do still remaiu on record; and the whole province was once thrown in a maze by the return of one of his campaigns ; wherein it was stated that though, like Captain Bobadil, he had only twenty men to back him, yet iE the short space of six months he had conquered and utterly annihilated sixty oxen, ninety hogs, one hundred sheep, ten thousand cabbages, one thousand bushels of potatoes, one hundred and fifty kilderkins of small-beer, two thousand seven hundred and thirty-five pipes, seventy-eight pounds of Eugar-plums, and forty bars of iron, besides sundry small meats, game, poultry, and garden stuff: — An achievement un- paralleled since the days of Pantagruel and his all-devouring army, and which showed that it was only necessary to let belhpotent Van Poffonburgh and his garrison loose in an enemy's coimtry, and in a little while they would breed r. famine and starve all the inhabitants. No sooner, therefore, had the general received the first in» timation of the visit of Governor Risingh, than he ordered a great dinner to be prepared ; and privately sent out a detach- ment of his most experienced veterans to rob all the hen- roosts in the neighbourhood and lay the pig-sties under con- tribution ; a service to which they had been long inured, and which they discharged with such incredible zeal and prompti- tude that the garrison table groaned under the weight of their spoils. I wish, with aU my heart, my readers could see the valiant Van Poffenburgh, as he presided at the head of the banquet ; it was a sight worth beholding: — ^there he sat, in his greatest glory, surrounded by his soldiers, like that famous wme-bib- ber, Alexander, whose thirsty virlues he did most ably imitato — ^teUing astounding stories of his hair-breadth adventures and heroic exploits, at which, though all his auditors knew them to be most incontinent and outrageous gasconadoes, yet did they cast up their eyes in admiration and utter many inter- jections of astonishment. Nor could the general pronounce 214 ^ niSTORT OF NEW-YORK. any thing that bore the remotest semblance to a joke, but the stout Eisingh would strike his brawny fist upon the table till every glass rattled again, throwing himself back in the chair and uttering gigantic peals of laughter, swearing most horribly it was the best joke he ever heard in his Uf e. — Thus all was rout and revelry and hideous carousal within Fort Casimir, and so lustily did Van PofEenburgh ply the bottle, that in less than foiu: short hours he made himself and his whole garrison, who all sedulously emulated the deeds of their chieftain, dead drunk, and singing songs, quafllng bumpers, and drinking patriotic toasts, none of which but was as long as a Welsh pedigree or a plea in chancery. No sooner did things come to this pass, than the crafty Risiugh and his Sweaes, who had cunningly kept themselves sober, rose on their entertainers, tied them neck and heels, and took formal possession of the fort, and all its dependencies, in the name of Queen Christina of Sweden : administering at the same time an oath of allegiance to all the Dutch soldiers who could be TOa.de sober enough to swallow it. Eisingh then put the fortification in order, appointed his discreet and vigilant friend, Suen Scutz, a tall, wind-dried, water-drinking Swede, to the command, and departed, bearing with him this truly amiable garrison, and their puissant commander; who, when brought to himself by a sound drubbing, bore no Uttle resem- blance to a " deboshed fish," or bloated sea-monster, caught upon dry land. The transportation of the garrison was done to prevent the transmission of iatelUgence to New- Amsterdam ; for, much as the cunning Eisingh exulted in his stratagem, he dreaded the vengeance of the sturdy Peter Stuyvesant; whose name spread as much terror in the neighbourhood as did whilom that of the unconquerable Scanderbeg among his scurvy ene- mies, the Turks. CHAPTER II. SHOWING HOW PEOFOTIOT) SECRETS ARE OFTEN BEOtTGHTt TO LIGHT; WITH THE PROCEEDINGS OF PETER THE HEADSTRONG, WHEN HE HEARD OF THE MISPORTITNES OP GENERAL VAN POF- EENBURGH. Whoever fii-st described common fame, or rumour, as bo- longing to the sager S3X, was a very owl for shrewdness. She A HISTORT OF NEW-YORE. 215 has, in truth, certain feminine qualities to an astonishing de- gree ; particularly that benevolent anxiety to take care of the affairs of others, which keeps her contiQually hunting after secrets, and gadding about proclaiming them. Whatever is done openly and in the face of the world, she takes but tran- sient notice of ; but whenever a transaction is done in a comer, and attempted to be shrouded in mystery, then her goddess- ship is at her wit's end to find it out, and takes a most mis- chievous and lady-like pleasure in publishing it to the world. It is this tiTily feminine propensity that induces her con- tinually to be prying iato cabinets of priaces, listening at the key-holes of senate chambers, and peering through chinks and crannies, when our worthy Congress are. sitting with closed doors, deliberating between a dozen excellent modes of ruining the nation. It is this which makes her so obnoxious to all wary statesmen and intriguing commanders — such a stum- bling-block to private negotiations and secret expeditions; which she often betrays, by means and instruments which never woiild have been thought of by any but a female head. Thus it was in the case of the affair of Fort Casimir. No doubt the cunning Eisingh imagined, that by securing the garrison he should for a long time prevent the history of its fate from reaching the ears of the gallant Stuyvesant ; but his exploit was blown to the world when he least expected it, and by one of the last beings he would ever have suspected of en- listing as trumpeter to the wide-mouthed deity. This was one Dirk SchuUer, (or Skulker,) a kind of hanger- on to the garrison; who seemed to belong to nobody, and in a manner to be self-outlawed. He was one of those vagabond cosmopohtes, who shark about the world as if they had no right or business in it, and who infest the skirts of society like poachers and interlopers. Every garrison and country village has one or more scape-goats of this kind, whose Mfe is a kind of enigma, whose existence is without motive, who comes from the Lord knows where, who lives the Lord knows how, and seems to be made for no other earthly purpose but to keep up the ancient and honourable order of idleness. This vagrant philosopher weis supposed to have some Indian blood in his veins, which was manifested by a certain Indian complexion and cast of countenance ; but more especially by his propensi- ties and habits. He was a tall, lank fellow, swift of foot and long-winded. He was generally equipped in a half Indian dress, with belt, leggings, and moccasons. His hair hung in 216 A BISTORT OF NEW-TORK. straight gallows locks about his ears, and added not a little to his sharking demeanour. It is an old remark, that persons of Indian mixture are haK civilized, half savage, and half devil, a third half being expressly provided for their particular con- venience. It is for similar reasons, and probably with equal truth, that the back-wood-men of Kentucky are styled half man, half horse, and half alligator, by the settlers on the Mis- sissippi, and held accordingly in great respect and abhorrence. The above character may have presented itself to the garri- son as appUcable to Dirk Schuiler, whom they familiarly dubbed GaUows Dirk. Certain it is, he acknowledged allegi- ance to no one — was an utter enemy to work, holding it in no manner of estimation — but lounged about the fort, depending upon chance for a subsistence, getting drunk whenever he could get Uquor, and stealing whatever he could lay his hands on. Every day or two he was sure to get a sound rib-roasting for some of his misdemeanours, which, however, as it broke no bones, he made very Ught of, and scrupled not to repeat the oflEence, whenever another opportunity presented. Sometimes, in consequence of some flagrant villainy, he would abscond from the garrison, and be absent for a month at a time ; skulk- ing about the woods and swamps, with a long fowhng-piece on his shoulder, laying in ambush for game — or squatting himself down on the edge of a pond catching fish for hours together, and bearing no little resemblance to that notable bird ycleped the mudpoke. When he thought liis crimes had been forgot- ten or forgiven, he would sneak back to the fort with a bundle of skins, or a bimch of poiiltry, which perchance he had stolen, and would exchange them for hquor, with which, having well soaked his carcass, he would lay in the sun and enjoy all the luxurious indolence of that swinish philosopher, Diogenes. He was the terror of aU the farm-yards in the country, into which he made fearful inroads ; and sometimes he would make his sudden appearance at the garrison at day-break, with the whole neighbourhood at his heels, hke a scoundrel thief of r, fox, detected in his maraudings and hunted to his hole. Such was this Dirk Schuiler; and from the total indifference he showed to the world or its concerns, and from his truly Indian stoicism and taciturnity, no one would ever have dreamt that he would have been the publisher of the treachery of Eisingh. When the carousal was going on, which proved so fatal to the brave Van Poflenburgh and his watchful garrison, Dirk skulked about from room to room, being a kind of privileged vagrant, A BISTORT OF NEW-YORK. 217 or useless hound, whom nobody noticed. But though a fellow of few words, yet, like your taciturn people, his eyes and ears were always open, and in the course of his prowlings he over- heard the whole plot of the Swedes. Dirk immediately settled in his own mind how he should turn the matter to his own ad- vantage. He played the perfect jack-of-both-sides — that is to say, he made a prize of everything that came in his reach, robbed both parties, stuck the copper-bound cocked-hat of the puissant Van PofEenburgh on his head, whipped a huge pair of Eisingh's jack-boots under his arms, and took to his heels, just before the catastrophe and confusion at the garrison. Finding himself completely dislodged from his haunt in this quarter, he directed his flight towards his native place, New Amsterdam, from whence he had formerly been obliged to ab- scond precipitately, in consequence of misfortune in business — that is to say, having been detected in the act of sheep-steahng. After wandering many days in the woods, ta ilin g through Bwamjs, fording brooks, swimming various rivers, and en- counte-ing a world of hardships, that would have killed any other being but an Indian, a back-wood-man, or the devil, he at length arrived, half famished, and lank as a starved weasel, a1 Oommunipaw, where he stole a canoe, and paddled over to ■ISlsw-Amsterdam. Immediately on landing, he repaired to GDvemor Stuyvesant, and in more words than he had ever B]oken before in the whole course of Ms life, gave an account o the disastrous affair. On receiving these direful tidings, the vahant Peter started fom his seat— dashed the pipe he was smoking against the bxjk of the chimney — thrust a prodigious quid of tobacco into hs left cheek — pulled up his gaUigaskins, and strcde up and dwn the room, humming, as was customary with him when iia passion, a hideous north-west ditty. But as I have before sbwn, he was not a man to vent his spleen in idle vapouring. Es first measure after the paroxysm of wrath had subsided, -ws to stiunp up-stairs to a huge wooden chest, which served a his armory, from whence he drew forth that identical suit o regimentals described in the preceding chapter. In these prtentous habiliments he arrayed himself, like AchiUes in te armour of Vulcan, maintaining all the while a most ap- fUing silence, knitting his brows, and drawing his breath trough his clenched teeth. Being hastily equipped, he strode cwn into the parlour, jerked down his trusty sword from cer the fire-place, where it was usually suspended ; but before 218 -A HISTORY OF NEW- YORK. he girded it on his thigh, he drew it from its scabbard, and as his eye coursed along the rusty blade, a grim smile stole over his iron visage — it was the first smile that had visited his coun- tenance for five long weeks; but every one who beheld it, prophesied that there would soon be warm work in the pro- vince! Thus armed at all points, with grizzly war depictured in each feature, his very cocked-hat assuming an air of uncommon de- fiance, he instantly put himself upon the alert, and despatched Antony Van Corlear hither and thither, this way and that way, through all the muddy streets and crooked lanes of the city, summoning by sound of trumpet his trusty peers to as- semble in instant council. This done, by way of expediting matters, according to the custom of people in a hurry, be kept in continual bustle, shifting from chair to chair, popping his head out of every window, and stumping up and down stairs with his wooden leg in such brisk and incessant motioi, that, as we are informed by an authentic historian of the tiaes, the continual clatter bore no small resemblance to the muac of a cooper hooping a flour-barrel. A summons so peremptory, and from a man of the gover- nor's mettle, was not to be trifled with; the sages forliiwibb repaired to the council chamber, seated themselves with tie utmost tranquillity, and Ughting their long pipes, gazed wih unruflfled composure on his excellency and his regimentas being, as aU counsellors should be, not easily flustered, a taken by surprise. The governor, looking around for a td- ment with a lofty and soldier-like air, and resting one hand n the pummel of his sword, and fliaging the other forth in a fco and spirited manner, addressed them in a short, but sol- stirring harangue. I am extremely sorry that I have not the advantages of Liv, Thucydides, Plutarch, and others of my predecessors, who ee I furnished, as I am told, with the speeches of aU their grat ■.emperors, generals, and orators, taken down in short-hand, y 'the most accurate stenographers of the time ; whereby thy were enabled wonderfully to enrich their histories, and deUgt their readers with sublime strains of eloquence. Not havi^ such important auxiliaries, I cannot possibly pronounce wit was the tenor of Governor Stuy vesant's speech. I am bol, however, to say, from the tenor of his character, that he dl not wrap his rugged subject in silks and ermines, and oth' ■sickly trickeries of phrase ; but spoke forth, Kke a man of nerv A HISTORY OF NEW- YORK. 219 and vigour, who scorned to shrink, in words, from those dan- gers which he stood ready to encounter in very deed. This much is certain, that he concluded by announcing his deter- mination of leading on his troops in person, and routing these coBtardmonger Swedes from their usurped quarters at Fort Casimir. To this hardy resolution such of his council as were awake gave their usual signal of concurrence, and as to the rest who had fallen asleep about the middle of the harangue (their "usual custom in the afternoon") — they made not the least objection. And now was seen in the fair city of New-Amsterdam a prodigious bustle and preparation for iron war. Recruiting parties marched hither and thither, calling lustily upon all the scrubs, the runagates, and tatterdemalions of the Manhattoes and its vicinity, who had any ambition of sixpence a day, and immortal fame into the bargain, to enlist in the cause of glory. For I would have you note that your warlike heroes who trudge in the rear of conquerors, are generally of that illus- trious class of gentlemen, who are equal candidates for the army or the Bridewell — ^the halberts or the whipping-post — for whom dame Fortime has cast an even die, whether they shall make their exit by the sword or the halter — and whose deaths shall, at all events, be a lofty example to their countrymen. But notwithstanding all this martial rout and invitation, the ranks of honour were but scantily supphed ; so averse were the peaceful burghers of New-Amsterdam from enlisting in foreign broils, or stirring beyond that home which rounded all their earthly ideas. Upon beholding this, the great Peter, w^hose noble heart was all on fire with war and sweet re- venge, determined to wait no longer for the tardy assistance of these oily citizens, but to muster up his merry men of the Hudson; who, brought up among woods and wilds and savage beasts, hke our yeomen of Kentucky, dehghted in nothing so much as desperate adventures and perilous expeditions through the wUdemess. Thus resolving, he ordered his trusty squire, Antony Van Corlear, to have his state galley prepared and dioly victualled ; which being performed, he attended pub- lic service at the great church of St. Nicholas, like a true and pious governor, and then leaving peremptory orders with his council to have the chivalry of the Manhattoes marshalled out and appointed against his return, departed upon his recruiting voyage, up the waters of the Hudson. 220 -A HISTORY OF NEW-YORK. CHAPTER in. CONTAINING PETEE STTJYVESANT'S VOYAGE UP THE HUDSON, AND THE WONDERS AND DELIGHTS OP THAT EENOWNED EIVER. Now did the soft breezes of the south steal sweetly over the beauteous face of nature, tempering the panting heats oi sum- mer into genial and prolific warmth — when that miracle of hardihood and chivaJric virtue, the dauntless Peter Stuyve- sant, spread his canvas to the wind, and departed from the fair island of Manna-hata. The galley in which he embarked was sumptuously adorned with pendants and streamers of gorge- ous dyes, which fluttered gayly in the wind, or drooped their ends in the bosom of the stream. The bow and poop of this majestic vessel were gallantly bedight, after the rarest Dutch fashion, with figures of httle pursy Cupids with periwigs on their heads, and bearing in their hands garlands of flowers, the like of which are not to be found in any book of botany ; being the matchless flowers which flourished in the golden age, and exist no longer, imless it be in the imaginations of ingenious carvers of wood and discolourers of canvas. Thus rarely decorated, in style befitting the state of the puissant potentate of the Manhattoes, did the galley of Peter Stuyvesant laimch forth upon the bosom of the lordly Hudson; which, as it rolled its broad waves to the ocean, seemed to pause for a while, and swell with pride, as if conscious of the illustrious burthen it sustained. But trust me, gentlefolk, far other was the scene presented to the contemplation of the crew, from that which may be wit- nessed at this degenerate day. WUdness and savage majesty reigned on the borders of this mighty river — the hand of culti- vation had not as yet laid down the dark forests, and tamed the features of the landscape — ^nor had the frequent sail of commerce yet broken in upon the profound and awful soh- tude of ages. Here and there might be seen a rude wigwam perched among the clifiEs of the mountains, with its curling column of smoke mounting in the transparent atm^osphere — but so loftily situated, that the whooping of the savage children, gamboUing on the margin of the dizzy heights, fell almost as faintly on the ear as do the notes of the lark when lost in the azure vault of heaven. Now and then, from the beethng brow A HISTORY OF NEW-TOUK. 221 of some rocky precipice, the wild deer would look timidly down upon the splendid pageant as it passed below ; and then, to3sing his branching antlers in the air, would bound away into the thickets of the forest. Through such scenes did the stately vessel of Peter Stuyve- sant pass. Now did they skirt the bases of the rocky heights of Jersey, which spring up hke everlasting walls, reaching from the waves unto the heavens ; and were fashioned, if traditions may be beUeved, ia times long past, by the mighty spirit Manetho, to protect his favourite abodes from the unhallowed eyes of mortals. Now did they career it gayly across the vast expanse of Tappan Bay, whose wide extended shores present a vast variety of delectable scenery — here the bold promontory, crowned with embowering trees, advancing into the bay — there the long woodland slope, sweeping up from the shore in rich luxuriance, and terminating in the upland precipice — while at a distance a long waving line of rocky heights threw their gigantic shades across the water. Now would they pass where some modest httle interval, opening among these stupen- dous scenes, yet retreating as it were for protection into the embraces of the neighbouring mountains, displayed a rural paradise, fraught with sweet and pastoral beauties ; the velvet- tufted lawn— the bushy copse — the tinkling rivulet, stealing through the fresh and vivid verdure — on whose banks was situated some Httle Indian vQlage, or, peradventure, the rude cabin of some solitary hunter. The different periods of the revolving day seemed each, with cunning magic, to diffuse a different charm over the scene. Now would the jovial sun break gloriously from the east, blaz- ing from the summits of the hills, and sparkhng the landscape with a thousand dewy gems ; while along the borders of the river were seen heavy masses of mist, which, hke midnight caitiffs, disturbed at his approach, made a sluggish retreat, rolling in suUen reluctance up the mountains. At such times, all was brightness and life and gayety — the atmosphere seemed of an indescribable pin-eness and transparency — the birds broke forth in wanton madrigals, and the freshening breezes wafted the vessel merrily on her course. But when the sun sunk amid a flood of glory in the west, mantling the heavens and the earth with a thousand gorgeous dyes— then aU was cabn, and silent, and magnificent. The late swelling sail hung lifelessly against the mast— the seamen with folded arms leaned against the shrouds, lost in that involuntary musing which t tie 222 ^ HISTORY OF NEW- YORK. sober grandeur of nature commands in the rudest of her chil- dren. The vast bosom of the Hudson was like an unruffled mirror, reflecting the golden splendour of the heavens, except- ing that now and then a bark canoe would steal across its sur- face, flUed with painted savages, whose gay feathers glared brightly, as perchance a lingering ray of the setting sun gleamed upon them from the western mountains. But when the hour of twilight spread its magic mists around, then did the face of nature assume a thousand fugitive charms, which, to the worthy heart that seeks enjoyment in the glori- ous works of its Maker, are inexpressibly captivating. The mellow dubious light that prevailed, just served to tinge with illusive colours the softened features of the scenery. The de- ceived but dehghted eye sought vainly to discern, in the broad masses of shade, the separating line- between the land and water; or to distinguish the fading objects that seemed sink- ing into chaos. Now did the busy fancy supply the feebleness of vision, producing with industrious craft a fairy creation of her own. Under her plastic wand the barren rocks frowned upon the watery waste, in the semblance of lofty towers and high embattled castles — ^trees assumod the direful forms of mighty giants, and the inaccessible summits of the moimtains seemed peopled with a thousand shadowy beings. Now broke forth from the shores the notes of an inmmiera- ble variety of insects, which filled the air with a strange but not inharmonious concert — while ever and anon was heard the melancholy plaint of the whip-poor-will, who, perched on some lone tree, wearied the ear of night with his incessant mean- ings. The mind, soothed into a hallowed melancholy, listened with pensive stillness to catch and distinguish each soimd that vaguely echoed from the shore — now and then startled per- chance by the whoop of some straggling savage, or the dreary howl of a woK, stealing forth upon his nightly prowUngs. Thus happily did they pursue their course, until they entered upon those awfiil defiles denominated The Highlands, where it would seem that the gigantic Titans had erst waged their impious war with heaven, pihng up clifcs on cliffs, and burling vast naasses of rock in wild confusion. But in sooth, very different is the history of these cloud-capped mountains. — These in ancient days, before the Hudson poured his waters from the lakes, formed one vast prison, within whose rocky bosom the omnipotent Manetho confined the rebellious spirits who repined at his control. Here, bound in adamantine chains, or jammed - A HISTOBT OF NEW- YORK. 223 in rifted piaes, or crushed by ponderous rocks, they groaned for many an age. At length the conquering Hudson, in his irresistible career towards the ocean, burst open their prison- house, rolling his tide triumphantly through its stupendous ruins. Still, however, do many of them lurk about their old abodes ; ■and these it is, according to venerable legends, that cause the echoes which resound throughout these awful sohtudes ; which are nothing but their angry clamours, when any noise disturbs the profoundness of their repose. For when the elements are agitated by tempest, when the wiuds are up and the thunder rolls, then horrible is the yelling and howling of these troubled spirits, making the mountains to rebellow with their hideous uproar; for at such times, it is said, they think the great Manetho is returning once more to plunge them in gloomy caverns, and renew their intolerable captivity. But all these fair and glorious scenes were lost "upon the gal- lant Stuyvesant: nought occupied his mind but thoughts of iron war, and proud anticipations of hardy deeds of arms. Neither did his honest crew trouble their vacant heads with any romantic speculations of the kind. The pilot at the helm quietly smoked his pipe, thinking of nothing either past, pres- ent, or to come— those of his comrades who were not industri- ously snoring under the hatches were listening with open mouths to Antony Van Corlear ; who, seated on the windlass, was relating to them the marvellous history of those myriads of fire-flies that sparkled hke gems and spangles upon the dusky robe of night. These, according to tradition, were originally a race of pestilent sempitemous beldames, who peo- pled these parts long before the memory of man ; being of that abominated race emphatically called brimstones; and who, for their innumerable sins against the children of men, and to furnish an awful warning to the beauteous sex, were doomed to infest the earth in the shape of these threatening and terri- ble Mttle bugs; enduring the internal toi-ments of that fire, \ which they formerly carried in their hearts, and breathed forth in their words ; but now are sentenced to bear about for ever— - in their tails. And now am I going to tell a fact, which I doubt much my readers will hesitate to believe ; but if they do, they are wel- come not to believe a word in this whole history, for nothing which it contains is more true. It must be known then that the nose of Antony the trumpeter was of a vei-y lusty size, 224 A HISTORY OF NEW-YOBK. Btrutting 1)01(317 from his coimtenance Kke a mountain of Gol- conda; being sumptuously bedecked with rubies and other precious stones — the true regalia of a king of good fellows, which jolly Bacchus grants to aU who bouse it heartily at the flagon. Now thus it happened, that bright and early in the morning, the good Antony having washed his burly visage, was leaning over the quarter-railing of the galley contemplat- ing it in the glassy wave below — just at this moment, the illustrious sun, breaking in all his splendour from behind one of the high bluffs of the Highlands, did dart one of his most potent beams full upon the refulgent nose of the sounder of brass — the reflection of which shot straightway down, hissing hot, into the water, and killed a mighty sturgeon that was sporting beside the vessel ! This huge monster being with in- finite labour hoisted on board, furnished a luxurious repast to aH the crew, being accounted of excellent flavour, excepting about the wound, where it smacked a little of brimstone — and this, on my veracity, was the first time that ever sturgeon was eaten in these parts by Christian people.* When this astonishing miracle came to be made known to Peter Stuyvesant, and that he tasted of the unknown fish, he, as may well be supposed, marvelled exceedingly; and as a monument thereof, he gave the name of Antonyms Nose to a stout promontory in the neighbourhood — and it has continued to be called Antony's Nose ever since that time. But hold— Whither am I wandering?— By the mass, if I at- tempt to accompany the good Peter Stuyvesant on this voyage, I shaU never make an end, for never was there a voyage so fraught with marvellous incidents, nor a river so aboimding with transcendent beauties, worthy of being severally recorded. Even now I have it on the point of my pen to relate, how his crew were most horribly frightened, on' going on shore above the Highlands, by a gang of merry, roistering devils, frisking and curveting on a huge flat rock, which projected into the river — and which is called the DuyveVs Dans-Kamer to this very day. — But no 1 Diedrich Knickerbocker — it becomes thee not to idle thus in thy historic wayfaring. Recollect that while dweUing with the fond garrulity of age over these fairy scenes, endeared to thee by the recollections of * The learned Hans Megapolensis, treating of the country about Albany, in a letter which was written some time after the settlement thereof, says: "There is in the river great plenty of Sturgeon, which we Christians do not make use of; but the Indians eat them greedilie." A mSTORT OF NBW-TORK. 225 thy youth, and the charms of a thousand legendary tales which beguiled the simple ear of thy childhood ; recollect that thou art trifling with those fleeting moments which should be devoted to loftier themes. — ^Is not Time — relentless Time! — shaking, with palsied hand, his almost exhausted hour-glass before thee? — hasten then to pursue thy weary task, lest the last sands be run, ere thou hast finished thy history of the Manhattoes. Let us then commit the dauntless Peter, his brave gaUey, and his loyal crew, to the protection of the blessed St. Nicholas; who, I have no doubt, will prosper him in his voyage, while we await his return at the great city of New-Amsterdam. CHAPTEE rv. DESCEIBING THE POWERFUL ARMY THAT ASSEMBLED AT THE CITY OP NEW-AMSTERDAM — TOGETHER WITH THE INTERVIEW BETWEEN PETER THE HEADSTRONG AND GENERAL VAN POF- FENBURGH, AND PETER'S SENTIMENTS TOUCHING UNFORTUNATE GREAT MEN. While thus the enterprising Peter was coasting, with flow- ing sail, up the shores of the lordly Hudson, and arousing all the phlegmatic little Dutch settlements upon its borders, a groat 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 com- monly particular ; by which means I am enabled to record the fllustrious host that encamped itself in the pubhc square in front of the fort; at present denominated the Bowling-Green. In the centre, then, was pitched the tent of the men of battle .of the Manhattoes, who being the inmates of the metropolis, 'composed the life-guards of the governor. These were com- manded by the valiant StofEel Brinkerhoff, who whilom 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 indus- try and the amphibious origin of the Nederlanders.* * This wns likewise the great seal of the New-Netherlands, as may still be seen in ancient records. 226 ^ UISTORT OF NEW-TOBK. On their right hand might be seen the vassals of that re- nowned Mynheer, Michael Paw,* who lorded it over the iair regions of ancient Pavonia, and the lands away south, even unto the Navesink mountains,! and was moreover patroon of Gibbet Island. His standard was borne by his trusty squire, Cornelius Van Vorst; consisting of a huge oyster recumhent 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 hnsey-woolsey breeches, and overshadowed by broad- brimmed beavers, with short pipes twisted in their hat-bands. 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 were encamped the tribe of warriors who came from the neighbourhood of Hell-Gate. These were com- manded 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 curi- ous coloured cloth called thimder and hghtning — and bore as a standard three DevU's-daming-needles, volant, in a flame- coloured field. Hard by was the tent of the men of battle from the marshy borders of the Waale-Boghtt 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 Varrc Vanger, and had moreover a jolly band of Breuckelen§ ferry -men, who per- formed a brave concerto on conch-shells. But I refrain from pursuing this minute description, which * Besides what is related in the Stuyresant MS., I have found mention made of this illustrious Patroon in another manuscript, which says: "De Heer (or the squire) Michael Paw, a Dutch subject, about lOth Aug., 1630, by deed purchased Staten Island. N. B. The same Michael Paw had what the Dutch call a coloiiie at Pavonia, on the Jersey shore, opposite New-York, and his overseer, in 1636, was named Corns. Van Vorst— a person of the same name in 1T69 owned Powles Hook, and a large farm at Pavonia, and is a lineal descendant from Van Vorst." tSo called from the Navesink tribe of Indians that inhabited these parts— at present they are erroneously denominated the Neversink, or Neversunk mountains. t Since corrupted into the Wallabout; the bay where the Navy Yard is situated. § Now spelt Brooklyn, A HISTORY OF NEW-TORK. 227 goes on to describe tlie warriors of Bloemendael, 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 be- yond the walls of the city. But this alarm was in a httle while relieved ; for lo, from the midst of a vast cloud of dust, they recognised 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 and glorious description of the forces, as they defiled through the priacipal 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 ex- ceeding 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 Vlotens, of KaatskOl, most horrible quaffers of new cider, and arrant brag- garts in their hquor. — 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 Elinderhook, vahant robbers of birds' nests, as their name denotes ; to these, i£ report may be believed, are we indebted for the invention of slap-jacks, 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 sympa- thy between the seat of honour and the seat of intellect, and that the shortest way to get knowledge iato the head, was to hammer it into the bottom. — Then the Van GroUs, of Antony's Nose, who carried their hquor 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 triimaphant 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 Hoesens, of Sing-Sing, great choristers and players upon the jews-harp ; these marched two and two, singing the great song of St. Nicholas. — Then the Couonhovens, 228 -^ IlISTOUT OF MEW- YORK. of Sleepy Hollow; these gave birth to a joUy race of publi- cans, who first discovered the magic artifice of conjuring a quart of wine into a pint bottle. — Then the Van Kortlandts, who lived on the wUd 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 Nyack and Kakiat, who were the first that did ever kick with the left foot ; they were gaUant bush-whackers and hunters of raccoons 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 Knickee- BOCKERS, of the great town of Schaghticoke, 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 Knicker, to shake, and Beker, a goblet, indicating thereby that they were sturdy toss-pots of yore ; but, in truth, it was de- rived from Knicker, to nod, and Boeken, books ; plainly mean- ing 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 Stuy vesant manuscriirt indeed speaks of many more, whose names I omit to mention, seeing that it behoves me to hasten to matters of greater mo- ment. 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 gxatification of hia much-wished-for revenge upon the scoundrel Swedes at Fort Casimir. But before I hasten to record those unmatchanle events, which wiU be found in the sequel of this faithful history, let me pause to notice the fate of Jacobus Van Poffen- burgh, the discomfited commander-in-chief of the armies ot the New-Netherlands. Such is the inherent uncharitableness of human nature, that scarcely did the news become pubhc of his deplorable discomfiture at Fort Casimir, than a thou^ sand scurvy rumours were set afloat in New- Amsterdam, wherein it was insinuated, that he had in reality a treacher- ous 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 aU which deadly charges I do not give a jot more credit than I think they deserve. A IIISTOUY OF NEW-TORE. 229 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 Hfe-g-uard men quarrelled all his quarrels, were ready to fight all his battles, and scowled at every man that turned up his nose at the general, as though they would devour him alive. Their conversation was interspersed with oaths hke minute-guns, and every bombastic rodomontado was rounded off by a thundering execration, like a patriotic toast honoured with a discharge of artillery. AU 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 magna- nimity of soul, particularly as he was continually protesting o?i tlie honour of a soldier — a marvellously high-sounding assevera- tion. Nay, one of the members of the council went so far as to propose they should immortalize him by an imperishable statute of plaster of Paris. But the vigilant Peter the Headstrong was not thus to be de- ceived. — Sending privately for the commander-in-chief of aU the armies, and having heard all his story, garnished with the customary pious oaths, protestations, and ejaculations — "Har- kee, comrade," cried he, "though by your own accoixnt you are the most brave, upright, and honourable man in the whole province, yet do you he under the misfortune of being damna- bly traduced, and inuneasurably 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 crmies 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 wiU. Besides, 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 re- flection—that if guilty, you are but enjoying your just reward 230 -4 BISTORT OF NEW-TOnK. —and if innocent, 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 be neither error, calumny, nor perse- cution. In the meantime let me never see your face again, lor I have a horrible antipathy to the countenances of unfortunate great men like yourself." CHAPTER V. IN WHICH THE AUTHOR DISCOURSES VERT INGENUOUSLT OP HIM- SELF—AFTER WHICH IS TO BE POUND MUCH INTERESTING HIS- TORY ABOUT PETER THE HEADSTRONG AND HIS FOLLOWERS. As my readers and myself are about entering on as mf.ny perils as ever a confederacy of meddlesome knights-errant wilfully ran their heads into, it is meet that, Hke those hardy adventurers, we should join hands, bury all differences, and swear to stand by one another, in weal or woe, to the end of the enterprise. My readers must doubtless perceive how completely I have altered my tone and deportment, since we first set out together. I warrant they then thought mo a crabbed, cynical, impertinent little son of a Dutchman, for I scarcely ever gave them a civil word, nor so much as touched my beaver, when I had occasion to address them. But as we jogged along together, in the high-road of my history, I gradually began to relax, to grow more courteous, and oc- casionally to enter into familiar discourse, until at length I came to conceive a most social, companionable, kind regard for them. This is just my way — I am always a little cold and reserved at first, particularly to people whom I neither know nor care for, and am only to be completely won by long intimacy. Besides, why should I have been sociable to the crowd of how-d'ye-do acquaintances that flocked around me at my first appearance? Many were merely attracted by a new face; and having stared me full in the title-page, walked off without say- ing a word; while others lingered yawningly through the preface, and having gratified their short-lived curiosity, soon dropped off one by one. But more especially to try their mot- A HISTOltr OF NEW- YORK. 231 tie, I had recourse to an expedient, similar to one which we are told was used by the peerless flower of chivalry. Bang Arthur ; who, before he admitted any knight to his intimacy, first re- quired that he should show himself superior to danger or hardships, by encountering imheard-of mishaps, slaying some dozen giants, vanquishing wicked enchanters, not to say a word of dwarfs, hippogriffs, and fiery dragons. On a similar principle, I cunningly led my readers, at the first sally, into two or three knotty chapters, where they were most wofuUy belaboured and buffeted by a host of pagan philosophers and infidel writers. Though naturally a very grave man, yet could I scarce refrain from smiling outright at seeing the utter con- fusion and dismay of my valiant cavaliers — some dropi^ed down dead (asleep) on the field ; others threw down my book in the middle of the first chapter, took to their heels, and never ceased scampering until they had fairly run it out of sight ; when they stopped to take breath, to teU their friends what troubles they had undergone, and to warn all others from ventm-ing on so thankless an expedition. Every page thinned my ranks more and more ; and of the vast multitude that first set out, but a comparatively few made shift to survive, in exceedingly bat- tered condition, through the five introductory chapters. "What, then! would you have had me take such sunshine, faint-hearted recreants to my bosom at our first acquaintance' No — no ; I reserved my friendship for those who deserved it, for those who xmdauntedly bore me company, in spite of diffi- culties, dangers, and fatigues. And now, as to those who ad- here to me at present, I take them affectionately by the hand. — Worthy and thrice-beloved readers! brave and weU-tried comrades ! who have faithfully followed my footsteps through all my wanderiugs — I salute you from my heart — 1 pledge my- self to stand by you to the last ; and to conduct you (so Heaven speed this trusty weapon which I now hold between my fin- gers) triumphantly to the end of this our stupendous imder- takLng. But, hark ! while we are thus talking, the city of New- Am- sterdam is in a bustle. The host of warriors encamped in the Bowhng-Green are striking their tents ; the brazen trumpet of Antony Van Corlear makes the welkin to resound with porten- tous clangour — the drums beat— the standards of the Manhat- toes, of HeU-Gate, and of Michael Paw, wave proudly in the air. And now behold where the mariners are busily employed hoisting the sails of yon topsail schooner, and those clump-bmlt 232 -4 BISTORT OF NEW- YORK. sloops, wMcli are to waft the army of the Nederlanders to gather immortal honours on the Delaware 1 The entire population of the city, man, woman, and child, turned out to behold the chivalry of New-Amsterdam, as it paraded the streets previous to embarkation. Many a handker- chief was waved out at the windows ; many a fair nose was blown in melodious sorrow, on the mournful occaision. The grief of the fair dames and beauteous damsels of Granada could not have been more vociferous on the banishment of the gal- lant tribe of Abencefrages, than was that of the kind hearted fair ones of New- Amsterdam on the departure of their intrepid warriors. Every love-sick maiden fondly crammed the pock- ets of her hero with gingerbread and doughnuts — many a cop- per ring was exchanged and crooked sixpence broken, in pledge of eternal constancy — and there remain extant to this dajr some love-verses written on that occasion, sufficiently crabbed and incomprehensible to confound the whole universe. But it was a moving sight to see the buxom lasses, how they hung about the doughty Antony Van Corlear — for he was a joUy, rosy-faced, lusty bachelor, fond of his joke, and withal a desperate rogue among the women. Fain would they have kept him to comfort them while the army was away ; for be- sides what I have said of him, it is no more than justice to add, that he was a kind-hearted soul, noted for his benevolent at- tentions in comforting disconsolate wives during the absence of their husbands — and this made him to be very much re- garded by the honest burghers of the city. But nothing could keep the valiant Antony from following the heels of the old governor, whom he loved as he did his very soul — so, embrac- ing all the young vrouws, and giving every one of them that had good teeth and rosy lips, a dozen hearty smacks, he de- parted loaded with their kind wishes. Nor was the departure of the gallant Peter among the least causes of public distress. Though the old governor was by no means indulgent to the follies and waywardness of his subjects, yet some how or other he had become strangely popular among the people. There is something so captivating in personal bravery, that, with the common mass of mankind, it takes the lead of most other merits. The simple folk of New- Amsterdam looked upon Peter Stuyvesant as a prodigy of valour. His wooden leg, that trophy of his martial encoimter, was regarded with reverence and admiration. Every old burgher had a budget of miraculous stories to tell about the exploits of Hard* A mSTOIiT OF NEW- YORK. 233 kopping Piet, wherewith he regaled his children of a long win- ter night ; and on which he dwelt with as much delight and exaggeration, as do our honest country yeomen on the hardy adventures of old General Putnam (or as he is familiarly termed, Old Put.) during our glorious revolution. Not an in- dividual but verUy believed the old governor was a match for Belzebub himself ; and there was even a story told, with great mystery, and under the rose, of his having shot the devil with a silver bullet, one dark, stormy night, as he was sailing in a canoe through Hell-Gate. — But this I do not record as being an absolute fact — perish the man who would let fall a drop to dis- colour the pure stream of history ! Certain it is, not an old woman in New- Amsterdam but con- sidered Peter Stuyvesant as a tower of strength, and rested satisfied that the pubhc welfare was secure so long as he was in the 'city. It is not surprisiag, then, that they looked upon his departure as a sore aflBiction. With heavy hearts they dragged at the heels of his troop, as they marched down to the river side to embark. The governor, from the stem of his schooner, gave a short, but truly patriarchal address to his citizens ; wherein he recommended them to comport hke loyal and peaceable subjects — to go to church regularly on Sundays, and to mind their business all the week besides. — That the women should be dutiful and affectionate to their husbands — looking after nobody's concerns but their own : eschewing all gossipings and morning gaddings— and carrying short tongues and long petticoats. — That the men should abstain from inter- paeddling in public concerns, intrusting the cares of govern- ment to the officers appointed to support them — staying at home hke good citizens, making money for themselves, and getting children for the benefit of their country. That the burgomasters should look well to the pubhc interest — not op- pressing the poor, nor indulging the rich — not tasking their sagacity to devise new laws; but faithfully enforcing those which were already made — rather bending their attention to prevent evil than to punish it; ever recollecting that civil magistrates should consider themselves more as guardians of pubhc morals, than rat-catchers em.ployed to entrap piibhc delinquents. Finally, he exhorted them, one and all, high and low, rich and poor, to conduct themselves as well as they could; assuring them that if they faithfully and conscien- tiously complied with this golden rule, there was no danger but that they would all conduct themselves well enough. — TTus 234 -^ HISTOBT OF NEW-TORE. done, he gave them a paternal benediction ; the sturdy Antony sounded a most loving farewell with his trumpet, the jolly crews put up a shout of triumph, and the invincible armada swept off proudly down the bay. The good people of New-Amsterdam crowded down to the Battery — that blest resort, from whence so many a tender prayer has been wafted, so many a fair hand waved, so many a tearful look been cast by love-sick damsels, after the lessen- ing bark, bearing her adventiu-ous swain to distant climes. Here the populace watched with straining eyes the gallant squadron, as it slowly floated down the bay, and when the in- tervening land at the Narrows shut it from their sight, gradually dispersed with silent tongues and downcast coun- tenances. A heavy gloom hung over the late bustling city. — The honest burghers smoked their pipes in profound thoughtfulness, cast- ing many a wistful look to the weathercock, on the church of Saint Nicholas ; and all the old women, having no longer the presence of Peter Stuyvesant to hearten them, gathered their children home, and barricadoed the doors and windows evei-y evening at sun-down. In the meanwhile, the armada of the sturdy Peter proceeded prosperously on its voyage, and after encountering about as many storms, and waterspouts, and whales, and other horrors and phenomena, as generally befall adventurous landsmen, in perilous voyages of the kind; and after undergoing a severe scoiu-ing from that deplorable and unpitied malady called sea- sickness, the whole squadron arrived safely in the Delaware. Without so much as dropping anchor and giving his wearied ships time to breathe after labouring so long in the ocean, the intrepid Peter pursued his course up the Delaware, and made a sudden appearance before Fort Casimir. ^Having summoned the astonished garrison by a terrific blast from the trmnpet of the long-winded "Van Corlear, he demanded in a tone of thun- der an instant surrender of the fort. To this demand, Suen Scutz, the wind-dried commandant, replied in a shrill, whiffling voice, which, by reason of his extreme spareness, sounded like the wind whistling through a broken bellows — "that he had no very strong reasons for refusing, except that the demand was particularly disagreeable, as he had been ordered to main- tain his post to the last extremity." He requested time, there- fore, to consiilt with Governor Eisingh, and jiroposed a truce for that purpose. A BISTORT OF NEW-YORK. 235 The choleric Peter, indignant at having his rightful fori; so treacherously taken from him, and thus pertinaciously with- held, refused the proposed armistice, and swore by the pipe of St. Nicholas, which hke the sacred fire was never extin- guished , that unless the fort were surrendered in ten minutes, he would incontinently storm the works, make all the garrison run the gauntlet, and split their scoundrel of a commander like a piclded shad. To give this menace the greater effect, he drew forth his trusty sword, and shook it at them with such a fierce and vigorous motion, that doubtless if it had not been exceeding rusty, it would have lightened terror into the eyes and hearts of the enemy. He then ordered his men to bring a broadside to bear upon the fort, consisting of two swivels, three muskets, a long duck fowling-piece, and two brace of horse-pistols. In the meantime the sturdy Van Corlear marshalled all his forces, and commenced his warUke operations. Distending his cheeks like a very Boreas, he kept up a most horrific twanging of his trumpet — the lusty choristers of Sing-sing broke forth into a hideous song of battle— the warriors of Breuckelen and the WaUabout blew a potent and astounding blast on their conch-shells, altogether forming as outrageous a concerto as though five thousand French orchestras were dis- playing their skill in a modem overture. Whether the form.idable front of war thus suddenly pre- sented, smote the garrison with sore dismay — or whether the concluding terms of the summons, which mentioned that he should surrender "at discretion" were mistaken by Suen Scutz, who, though a Swede, was a very considerate, easy- tompered man — as a compUment to his discretion, I will not take upon me to say ; certain it is, he found it impossible to resist so courteous a demand. According^, in the very nick of time, just as the cabin-boy had gone after a coal of fire, to discharge the swivel, a chamade was beat on the rampart, by the only drum in the garrison, to the no small satisfaction of both parties; who, notwithstanding their great stomach for fighting, had full as good an inclination to eat a quiet dinner, as to exchange black eyes and bloody noses. Thus did this impregnable fortress once more return to the domination of their High Mightinesses ; Scutz and his garrison of twenty men wore allowed to march out with the honours of war, and the victorious Peter, who was as generous as brave, I)ermitted them to keep possession of all their arms and am- 23C -^ UISTOUY OF NEW-YORK. munition— the same on inspection being found totally unfit for service, having long rusted in the magazine of the fortress, even before it was vs^rested by the Sfredes from the magnani- mous, but windy Van PoflEenburgh. But I must not omit to mention, that the governor was so well pleased with the ser- vices of his faithful Squire Van Corlear, in the reduction of this great fortress, that he made him on the spot lord of a goodly domain in the vicinity of New-Amsterdam — which goes by the name of Corlear's Hook unto this very day. The unexampled liberahty of the valiant Stuyvesant to- wards the Swedes occasioned great surprise in the city of New-Amsterdam — ^nay, certain of these factious individuals, who had been enhghtened by the political meetings that pre- vailed during the days of Wiliiam the Testy, but who had not dared to indulge their meddlesome habits under the eye of their present ruler, now emboldened by his absence, dared even to give vent to their censures in the street. Murmurs were heard in the very council chamber of New- Amsterdam ; and there is no knowing whether they would not have broken out into downright speeches and invectives, had not Peter Stuyvesant privately sent home his walking-staff, to be laid as a mace on the table of the council chamber, in the midst of his counsellors ; who, like wise men, took the hint, and for ever after held their peace. CHAPTEE VI. SHOWING THE GREAT ADVANTAGE THAT THE AUTHOR HAS OVER niS READER IN TIME OP BATTLE — TOGETHER WITH DIVERS TOR- TENTOUS MOVEMENTS, WHICH BETOKEN THAT SOMETHING TER- RIBLE IS ABOUT TO HAPPEN. Like as a mighty alderman, when at a corporation feast the first spoonful of turtle soup salutes his palate, feels his impa- tient appetite but tenfold quickened, and redoubles his vigor- ous attacks upon the tureen, while his voracious eyes, project- ing from his head, roll greedily round, devouring every thing at table — so did the mettlesome Peter Stuyvesant feel that in- tolerable hunger for martial glory, which raged within his very bowels, inflamed by the captiu-e of Fort Casimir, and nothing could allay it but the conquest of aU New-Sweden, A BISTORT OF NEW-TORK. 2o7 No sooner, therefore, had he secured his conquest, than he stumped resolutely on, flushed with success, to gather fresh laurels at Fort Christina.* This was the grand Swedish post, established on a small river (or as it is improperly termed, creek) of the same name ; and here that crafty Governor Jan Risingh lay grimly drawn up, like a gray-bearded spider in the citadel of his web. But before we hurry into the direful scenes that must attend the meeting of two such potent chieftains, it is advisable that we pause for a moment, and hold a kind of warlike council. Battles should not be rushed into precipitately by the historian and his readers, any more than by the general and his soldiers. The great commanders of antiquity never engaged the enemy, without previously preparing the minds of their followers by animating harangues ; spiriting them up to heroic feelings, as- suring them of the protection of the gods, and inspiring them with a confidence in the prowess of their leaders. So the his- torian should awaken the attention and erJist the passions of his readers, and having set them all on fire with the impor- tance of his subject, he should put himself at their head, flour- ish his pen, and lead them on to the thickest of the fight. An illustrious example of this rule may be seen in that mir- ror of historians, the immortal Thucydides. Having arrived at the breaking out of the Peloponnesian war, one of his com- mentators observes, that "he sounds the charge in all the dis- position and spirit of Homer. He catalogues the aUies on both sides. He awakens our expectations, and fast engages our at- tention. All mankind are concerned in the important point now going to be decided. Endeavoui-s are made to disclose fu- turity. Heaven itself is interested in the dispute. The earth totters, and nature seems to labour with the great event. This is his solemn sublime manner of setting out. Thus he magni- fies a war between two, as Eapin styles them, petty states ; and thus artfully he supports a Uttle subject, by treating it in a great and noble method." In like manner, having conducted my readers into the very teeth of peril — having followed the adventurous Peter and his band into foreign regions— surroimded by foes, and stunned by the horrid din of arms — at this important moment, while dark- ness and doubt hang o'er each coming chapter, I hold it meet • This is at present a fiourishinE town, called Christiana, or Christeen, about thirty seven miles from Philadelphia, on the post-road to Baltimore. 238 ^ IlISTORY OF NEW- YORK. to harangue them, and prepare them for the events that are to follow. And here I would premise one groat advantage which, as the historian, I possess over my reader; and this it is, that though I cannot save the life of my favourite hero, nor absolutely contradict the event of a battle, (both which liberties, though often taken by the French writers of the present reign, I hold to be utterly ixnworthy of a sci-upulous historian,) yet I can now and then make him to bestow on his enemy a sturdy back-stroke sufficient to fell a giant ; though, in honest truth, he may never have done any thing of the kind — or I can drive his antagonist clear round and rotmd the field, as did Homer make that iine fellow Hector scamper like a poltroon round the walls of Troy ; for which, if ever they have encountered one another in the Elysian fields, I'll warrant the prince of poets has had to make the most humble apology. I am aware that many conscientious readers will be ready to cry out "foul play!" whenever I render a httle assistance to my hero — but I consider it one of those privileges exercised by historians of all ages, and one which has never been disputed. In fact, a historian is, as it were, bound in honour to stand by his hero — ^the fame of the latter is intrusted to his hands, and it is his duty to do the best by it he can. Never was there a general, an admiral, or any other commander, who, in giving an account of any battle he had fought, did not sorely bela- bour the enemy ; and I have no doubt that, had my heroes written the history of their own achievements, they would have dealt much harder blows than any that I shall recount. Standing forth, therefore, as the guardian of their fame, it be- hoves me to do them the same justice they would have done themselves; and if I happen to be a httle hard upon the Swedes, I give free leave to any of their descendants, who may write a history of the State of Delaware, to take fair retaliation, and belabour Peter Stuyvesant as hard as they please. Therefore stand by for broken heads and bloody noses ! — my pen hath long itched for a battle— siege after siege have I car- ried on without blows or bloodshed ; but now I have at length got a chance, and I vow to Heaven and St. Nicholas, that, let the chronicles of the time say what they please, neither Sal- lust, Livy, Tacitus, Polybius, nor any other historian, did ever record a fiercer fight than that in which my valiant chieftains are now about to engage. A HISTORY OF JS^W-TOIiK. 239 And you, oh most excellent readers, whom, for your faith- ful adherence, I co\ild cherish in the warmest corner of my heart— be not uneasy — trust the fate of our favourite Stuyve- sant to me — for by the rood, come what may, I'll stick by Hard- kopping Piet to the last ; I'U make him drive about these losels vile, as did the renowned Launcelot of the lake, a herd of re- creant Cornish knights — and if he does fall, let me never draw my pen to fight another battle, in behalf of a brave man, if I don't make these lubberly Swedes pay for it. No sooner had Peter Stuyvesant arrived before Port Chris- tina than he proceeded without delay to intrench himself, and immediately on running his first parallel, despatched Antony Van Corlear to summon the fortress to surrender. Van Oor- lear was received with all due formahty, hoodwinlied at the portal, and conducted through a pestiferous smell of salt fish and onions, to the citadel, a substantial hut, bmlt of pine logs. His eyes were here uncovered, and he found himself in the august presence of Governor Eisingh. This chieftain, as I have before noted, was a very giantly man ; and was clad in a coarse blue coat, strapped round the waist with a leathern belt, which caused the enormous skirts and pockets to set off with a very warlike sweep. His ponderous logs were cased in a pair of foxy -coloured jack-boots, and he was straddling in the attitude of the Colossus of Ehodes, before a bit of broken looking-glass, shaving himself with a villainously duU razor. This afflicting operation caused him to make a series of hor- rible grimaces, that heightened exceedingly the grizzly terrors of his visage. On Antony Van Corlear's being announced, the grim commander paused for a moment, in the midst of one of his most hard-favoured contortions, and after eyeing him as- kance over his shoulder, with a kind of snarling grin on his countenance, resumed his labours at the glass. This iron harvest being reaped, he turned once more to the trumpeter, and demanded the purport of his errand. Antony Van Corlear deUvered in a few words, being a kind of short- hand speaker, a long message from his exceUency, recounting the whole history of the province, with a recapitulation of grievances, and enumeration of claims, and concluding with a peremptory demand of instant surrender; which done, he turned aside, took his nose between his thumb and finger, and blew a tremendous blast, not unhke the flourish of a trumpet of defiance— which it had doubtless learned from a long and intimate neighbourhood with that melodious instrument. 240 A niSTORT OF NEW-TORE. Governor Eisingh heard him through, trumpet and all, hut with infinite impatience; leaning at times, as was his usual custom, on the pommel of his sword, and at times twirUng a huge steel watch-chain, or snapping his fingers. Van Corlear having finished, he bluntly replied, that Peter Stuyvesant and his s\unmons might go to the d 1, whither he hoped to send Viim and his crew of ragamuffins before supper-time. Then unsheathing his brass-hilted sword, and throwing away the scabbard — " Fore gad," quod he, "but I will not sheathe thee again, untU I make a scabbard of the smoke-dried, leathern hide of this runagate Dutchman. " Then having flung a fierce defiance in the teeth of his adversary, by the lips of his mes- senger, the latter was reconducted to the portal, with all the ceremonious civility due to the trumpeter, 'squire, and am- bassador of so great a commander, and being agaia unblinded, was courteously dismissed with a tweak of the nose, to assist him in recollecting his message. No sooner did the gallant Peter receive this insolent reply, than he let fly a tremendous volley of red-hot execrations, that would infallibly have battered down the fortifications, and blown up the powder-magazine about the ears of the fiery Swede, had not the ramparts been remarkably strong, and the magazine bomb-proof. Perceiving that the works withstood this terrific blast, and that it was utterly impossible (as it really was in those unphUosophic days) to carry on a war with words, he ordered his merry men all to prepare for an im- mediate assault. But here a strange murmm* broke out among his troops, beginning with the tribe of the Van Biim- mels, those valiant trencher-men of the Bronx, and spreading from man to man, accompanied with certain mutinous looks and discontented murmurs. For once in his hf e, and only for once, did the great Peter turn pale, for he verily thought his wariiors were going to falter in this hour of perilous trial, and thus tarnish for ever the fame of the province of New-Neder- lands. Bug soon did he discover, to his great joy, that in this suspi- cion he deeply wronged this most undaunted army ; for the cans ; of this agitation and uneasiness simply was, that the hour of dinner was at hand, and it would have almost broken the hearts of these regular Dutch warriors, to have broken in upon the invariable routine of their habits. Besides, it was an established rule among our valiant ancestors, always to fight upon a fuU stomach, and to this may be doubtless at- A HISTORY OF NEW-YORK. 241 tributed the circumstance that they came to be so renowned, in arms. And now are the hearty men of the Manhattoes, and their no less hearty comrades, all lustily engaged under the trees, buffeting stoutly with the contents of their wallets, and taking such affectionate embraces of their canteens and pottles, as though they verily beheved they were to be the last. And as I foresee we shaU have hot work in a page or two, I advise my readers to do the same, for which purpose I will bring this chapter to a close ; giving them, my word of honour that no advantage shall be taken of this armistice to surprise, or in any wise molest, the honest Nederlanders while at their vigor- ous repast. CHAPTEE VII. CONTAINING THE MOST HORRIBLE BATTLE EVER RECORDED BT POETRY OR PROSE — WITH THE ADBHRABLE ESFLOITS OP PETER THE HEADSTRONG. " Now had the Dutchmen snatched a huge repast," and 3nd- ing themselves wonderfully encouraged and animated thereby, prepared to take the field. Expectation, says the writer of the Stuyvesant manuscript— Expectation now stood on stilts. The world forgot to turn round, or rather stood still, that it might witness the afiEray; like a fat, round-belUed alderman, watching the combat of two chivalric flies upon his jerkin.' The eyes of all mankind, as usual in such cases, were turned upon Fort Christina. The sun, like a little man in a crowd at a puppet-show, scampered about the heavens, popping his head here and there, and endeavouring to get a peep between the unmannerly clouds that obtruded themselves in his way. The historians filled their ink-horns— the poets went without their dinners, either that they might buy paper and goosc- quills, or because they could not get any thing to eat— anti-' quity scowled sulkily out of its gi-ave, to see itself outdone— while even posterity stood mute, gazing in gaping ecstasy of retrospection on the eventful field. The immortal deities, who whilom had seen service at the "affair" of Troy— now moimted their feather-bed clouds, and Bailed over the plain or mingled among the combatants in dif- 242 -4 llISrORY OF NEW-YORK. ferent disguises, all itching to liave a finger in the pie. Jupi- ter sent off his thunderbolt to a noted coppersmith, to have it furbished up for the direful occasion. Venus swore by her chastity she'd patronize the Swedes, and in semblance o£ a blear-eyed truU, paraded the battlements of Fort Christina, accompanied by Diana as a sergeant's widow, of cracked repu- tation. — The noted bxilly. Mars, stuck two horse-pistols into his belt, shotJ-dered a rusty firelock, and gallantly swaggered at their elbow as a drim.ken corporal — while Apollo trudged in their rear as a bandy-legged fifer, playing most villainously out of tune. On the other side, the ox-eyed Juno, who had gained a pair of black eyes overnight, in one of her curtain lectures with old Jupiter, displayed her haughty beauties on a baggage-wagon — Minerva, as a brawny gia sutler, tucked up her skirts, bran- dished her fists, and swore most heroically in exceedmg bad Dutch, (having but lately studied the language,) by way of keeping up the spirits of the soldiers ; while Vulcan halted as a club-footed blacksmith, lately promoted to be a captain of militia. All was silent horror, or bustling preparation ; war reared his horrid front, gnashed loud his U'on fangs, and shook his direful crest of bristling bayonets. And now the mighty chieftains marshalled out their hosts. Here stood stout Eisingh, firm as a thousand rocks— incrustod with stockades and entrenched to the chin in mud batteries. His valiant soldiery lined the breastwork in grim array, each having his mustachios fiercely greased, and his hair poma- tumed back and queued so stiffly that he grinned above the ramparts like a grizzly death's head. There came on the intrepid Peter — ^his brows knit, his teeth set, his fists clenched, almost breatlring forth volumes of .smoke, so fierce was the fire that raged within his bosom. His faithful 'squire. Van Corlear, trudged valiantly at his heels, with his trumpet gorgeously bedecked with red and yellow ribands, the remembrances of his fair mistresses at the Manhattoes. Then came waddling on the sturdy chivalry of the Hudson. There were the Van Wycks, and the Van Dycks, and the Ten Eycks— the Van Nesses, the Van Tassels, the Van Grolls, the Van Hoesens, the Van Giesons, and the Van Blarcon^s— the Van Warts, the Van Winkles, the Van Dams, the Van Pelts, the Van Rippers, and the Van Brunts. —There were the Van Homes, the Van Hooks, the Van Bun- Bchotenc; the Van Gelders, the Van Arsdales, and the Van A HISTORY OF NEW-YORK. 243 Bummels— the Vander Belts, the Vander Hoofs, the Vander Voorts, the Vander Lyns, the Vander Pools, and the Vander Spiegels.— There came the Hoffmans, the Hooghlands, the Hop- pers, the Cloppers, the Eyckmans, the Dyckmans, the Hoge- booms, the Eosebooms, the Oothouts, the Quackenbosses, the Eoerbacks, the Garrebrantzs, the Bensons, the Brouwers, the Waldrons, the Onderdonks, the Varra Vangers, the Scher- merhornes, the Stoutenburghs, the Brinkerhoffs, the Bon- tecous, the Knickerbockers, the Hockstrassers, the Ten Breecheses, and the Tough Breecheses, with a host more of worthies, whose names are too crabbed to be written, or if they could be written, it would be impossible for man to utter — all fortified with a mighty dinner, and to use the words of a great Dutch poet, " Brimful of wrath and cabbage!" For an instant the mighty Peter paused in the midst of his career, and mounting on a sttunp, addressed his troops in eloqxient Low Dutch, exhorting them to fight like duyvels, and assuring them that if they conquered, they should get plenty of booty — if they fell, they should be allowed the unparalleled satisfaction, while dying, of reflecting that it was in the ser- vice of their country — and after they were dead, of seeing their names inscribed in the temple of renown, and handed down, in company with all the other great men of the year, for the admiration of posterity. — Finally, he swore to them, on the word of a governor, (and they knew him too well to doubt it for a moment) that if he caught any mother's son of them looking pale, or playing craven, he'd curry bis hide tiU he made him run out of it hke a snake in spring-time.— Then lugging out his trusty sabre, he brandished it three times over his head, ordered Van Corlear to sound a tremendous charge, and shouting the words, "St. Nicholas and the Manhattoes!" courageously dashed forwards. His warlike followers, who had employed the intei-val in fighting their pipes, instantly stuck them in their mouths, gave a fuiious pufiE, and charged gallantly, under cover of the smoke. The Swedish garrison, ordered by the cunning Eisingh not to fire until they could distinguish the whites of their assail- ants' eyes, stood in horrid feilence on the covert-way, until the eager Dutchmen had ascended the glacis. Then did they pour into them such a tremendous voUey, that the very hiUs quaked around, and were terrified even unto an mcontmence of water. 244 -A HISTORY OF NKW-TORK. insomuch that certain springs burst forth from their sides, which continue to run unto the present day. Not a Dutchman but would have bitten the dust, beneath that dreadful fire, had not the protecting Minerva kindly taken care that the Swedes should, one and all, observe thsii- usual custom, of shutting their eyes and turning away their heads, at the moment of discharge. The Swedes followed up their fire by leaping the counter- scarp, and falling tooth and nail upon the foe, with furioua outcries. And now might be seen prodigies, of valour, of which neither history nor song has ever recorded a parallel. Here was beheld the sturdy Stoffel Brinkerhoff, brandishing his lusty quarter- stafE, Uke the terrible giant Blanderon his oak tree, (for he scorned to carry any other weapon,) and drumming a horrific tune upon the heads of whole squadrons of Swedes. There were the crafty Van Kortlandts, posted at a distance, like the Locrian archers of yore, and plying it most potently with the long bow, for which they "were so justly renowned. At another place were collected on a rising knoU the valiant men of Sing-Sing, who assisted marvellously in the fight, by chanting forth the great song of St. Nicholas ; but as to the Gardeniers of Hudson, they were absent from the battle, having been sent out on a marauding party, to lay waste the neighbouring water-melon patches. In a different part of the field might be seen the Van GroUs of Antony's Nose; but they were horribly perplexed in a defile between two little hills, by reason of the length of their noses. There ■were the Van Bunschotens of Nyack and Elakiat, so renowned for kicking with the left foot, but their skill availed them little at present, being short of wind in consequence of the hearty dinner they had eaten, and they would irretrievably have been put to rout, had they not been reinforced by a gallant corps of Voltigeures, composed of the Hoppers, who advanced to their assistance nimbly on one foot. Nor must I omit to mention the incomparable achievements of Antony Van Corlear, who, for a good quarter of an hour, waged stubborn fight with a little, pursy Swedish drummer, whose hide he drummed most magnificently ; and had he not come into the battle with no other weapon but his trumpet, would infallibly have put him to an untimely end. But now the combat thickened — on came the mighty Jacobus Varra Vanger, and the fighting men of the WaUabout ; after them thundered the Van Pelts of Esopus, together with the A BISTORT OF NEW-YORK. 245 Vari Rippers and the Van Brunts, bearing down all before them — then the Suy Dams and the Van Dams, pressing forward with many a blustering oath, at the head of the warriors .of Hell-Gate, clad in their thunder and lightning gaberdines; and lastly, the standard-bearers and body-guards of Peter Stuyvesant, bearing the great beaver of the Manhattoes. And now commenced the horrid din, the desperate struggle, the maddening ferocity, the frantic desperation, the confusion and self-abandonment of war. Dutchman and Swede com- mingled, tugged, panted, and blowed. The heavens were dark- ened with a tempest of missives. Bang I went the guns — whack! struck the broad-swords— thump ! went the cudgels — crash ! went the musket stocks— blows— kicks — cuffs— scratches — black eyes and bloody noses, sweUing the horrors of the scene! Thick-thwack, cut and hack, helter-skelter, higgledy- piggledy, hurly-burly, head over heels, rough and tumble ! Dunder and bhxum ! swore the Dutchmen— spUtter and splut- ter! cried the Swedes. — Storm the works! shouted Hardkop- pig Peter— iii-e the mine! roared stout Eisingh— Tanta-ra-ra- ral twanged' the trumpet of Antony Van Corlear— until all voice and sound became unintelligible —grunts of pain, yells of fury, and shouts of triumph coiruningling in one hideous clamour. The earth shook as if struck with a paralytic stroke — trees shrunk aghast, and withered at the sight— rocks bui-- rowed in the ground like rabbits, and even Christina creek turned from its course, and ran up a mountain in breathless terror ! Long htmg the contest doubtful ; for, though a heavy shower of rain, sent by the " cloud-compeUing Jove," in some measure cooled their ardour, as doth a bucket of water thrown on a group of fighting mastiffs, yet did they but pause for a mo- ment, to return with tenfold fury to the charge, belabouring each other with black and bloody bruises. Just at this junc- ture was seen a vast and dense column of smoke, slowly roll- ing towards the scene of battle, which for a while made even the furious combatants to stay their arms in mute astonish- ment—but the wind for a moment dispersing the murky cloud, from the midst thereof emerged the flaunting banner of the immortal Michael Paw. This noble chieftain came fearlescly on, leading a solid phalanx of oyster-fed Pavonians, who had remained behind, partly as a corps de reserve, and partly to digest the enormous dinner they had eaten. These sturdy yeomen, nothing daunted, did trudge manfully forward, smok- 246 -4 BISTORT OF NEW-TOBK. ing their pipes -with outrageous vigour, so" as to raise the aTrihil cloud that has been mentioned; but marching excecdmgly slow, being short of leg, and of great rotundity in the bolt. And now the protecting deities of the army of New- Amster- dam, having unthinkingly left the field and stept into a neigh- bouring tavern to refresh themselves with a pot of beer, a direful catastrophe had well-nigh chanced to befall the Noder- landers. Scarcely had the myrmidons of the puissant Paw attained the front of battle, before the Swedes, instructed by the cunning Eisingh, levelled a shower of blows full at their tobacco-pipes. Astounded at this unexpected assault, and totally discomfited at seeing their pipes broken, the valiant Dutchmen fell in vast confusion— already they begin to fly — lik e a frightened drove of unwieldy elephants they thi-ow their owji army in an uproar, bearing down a whole legion of little Hoppers — the sacred banner, on which is blazoned the gigantic oyster of Communipaw, is trampled in the dirt— the Swedes pluck up new spirits, and pressing on their rear, apply their feet a parte poste, with a vigour that prodigiously accel- erates their motions— nor doth the renowned Paw himself fail to receive divers grievous and dishonourable visitations of shoe-leather ! But what, oh muse? was the rage of the gallant Peter, when from afar he saw his army yield? With a voice of thunder did he.rpar after his recreant warriors. The men of the Man- hattoes plucked up new courage when they heard their leader —or rather they dreaded his fierce displeasure, of which they stood in more awe than of aU the Swedes in Christendom — but the daring Peter, not waiting for their aid, plunged, sword in hand, into the thickest of the foe. Then did he display some such incredible achievements as have never been known since the miraculous days of the giants. "Wherever he went, the enemy shrunk before him — with fierce impetuosity he pushed forward, driving the Swedes, hke dogs, into their own ditch^ but as he fearlessly advanced, the foe thronged in his rear, and hung upon his flank with fearful peril. One crafty Swede, advancing warily on one side, drove his dastard sword fuU at the hero's heart; but the protecting power that watches over the safety of all great^and good men, turned aside the hostUe blade, and directed it to a side pocket, where reposed an enor- mous iron tobacco-box, endowed, hke the shield of Achilles, with supernatural powers— no doubt in consequence of its being piously decorated with a portrait of the blessed St; Nich- A SISTORT OF NKW-TORE. 247 olas. Thus was the dreadful blow repelled, but not without occasioniiig to the great Peter a fearful loss of wind. Like as a furious bear, when gored by curs, turns fiercely round, gnashes his teeth, and springs upon the foe, so did our hero turn upon the treacherous Swede. The miserable varlet sought in flight for safety — but the active Peter, seizing binn by an immeasurable queue, that dangled from his head — "Ah, whoreson caterpillar!" roared he, "here is what shall make dog's meat of thee 1" So saying, he whirled his trusty sword, and made a blow that would have decapitated him, but that the pitying steel struck short, and shaved the queue for ever from his crown. At this very moment a cunning arquebusier, perched on the summit of a neighbouring mound, levelled his deadly instrument, and woiild have sent the gallant Stuyve- sant a wailing ghost to haunt the Stygian shore, had not the watchful Minerva, who had just stopped to tie up her garter, seen the great peril of her favourite chief, and despatched old Boreas with his bellows ; who, in the very nick of time, just as the match descended to the pan, gave such a lucky blast, as blew all the priming from the touch-hole ! Thus waged the horrid fight — ^when the stout Eisingh, sur- veying the battle from the top of a httle ravehn, perceived his faithful troops banged, beaten, and kicked by the invincible Peter. Language cannot describe the choler with which he was seized at the sight — he only stopped for a moment to dis- burthen himself of five thousand anathemas ; and then, draw- ing his immeasurable falchion, straddled down to the field of combat, with some such thundering strides as Jupiter is said by Hesiod to have taken when he strode down the spheres, to hurl his thunderbolts at the Titans. No sooner did these two rival heroes come face to face, than they each made a prodigious start, such as is made by your most experienced stage champions. Then did they regard each other for a moment, with bitter aspect, like two furious ram-cats, on the very point of a clapper-clawing. Then did they throw themselves in one attitude, then in another, strik- ing their swords on the ground, first on the right side, then on the left — at last, at it they went with incredible ferocity. Words cannot teU the prodigies of strength and valour di- played in this direful encounter — an encounter, compared to which the far-famed battles of Ajax with Hector, of Eneas with Tumus, Orlando with Eodomont, Guy of Warwick with Colbrand the Dane, or that renowned Welsh knight, Sir Owen 248 4 BISTORT OF NEW-TORK. of the Mountains with the giant Guylon, were all gentle sports and holyday recreations. At length the vahant Peter, watch- ing his opportunity, aimed a fearful blow, with the full inten- tion of cleaving his adversary to the very chine; but Risingh, nimbly raising his sword, warded it off so narrowly, that glanc- ing on one side, it shaved away a huge canteen that he always carried swung on one side ; thence pursuing its trenchant course, it severed ofE a deep coat-pocket, stored with bread and cheese — aU which dainties rolling among the armies, occasioned a fearful scrambling between the Swedes and Dutchmen, and made the general battle to wax ten times more furious than ever. • Enraged to see his military stores thus wofuUy laid waste, the stout Eisingh, collecting all his forces, aimed a mighty blow fuU at the hero's crest. In vain did his fierce little cocked hat oppose its course; the biting steel clove through the stubborn ram-beaver, and would infalUbly have cracked his crown, but that the skull was of such adartiantine hard- ness, that the brittle weapon shivered into pieces, shedding a thousand sparks, like beams of glory, round his grizzly visage. Stunned with the blow, the valiant Peter reeled, turned up his eyes, and beheld fifty thousand suns, besides moons and stars, dancing about the firmament — at length, missing his footing, by reason of his wooden leg, down he came, on his seat of honour, with a crash that shook the surroimding hills, and would infallibly have wrecked his anatomical system, had he not been received into a cushion softer than velvet, which Providence, or Minerva, or St. Nicholas, or some kindly cow, had benevolently prepared for his reception. The furious Eisingh, in despite of that noble maxim, cher- ished by aU true knights, that " fair playis a jewel," hastened to take advantage of the hero's faU. ; but just as he was. stoop- ing to give the fatal blow, the ever-vi^lant Peter bestowed him a stm-dy thwack over the sconce with his wooden leg, that set some dozen chimes of bells ringing triple bob-majors in his cerebellum. The bewildered Swede staggered with the blow, and in the meantime the wary Peter, espying a pocket- pistol lying hard by, (which had dropped from the waUet of his faithful 'squire and trumpeter. Van Corlear, during' his furious encounter with the drummer,) discharged it fuU at the head of the reehng Eisingh. — Let not my reader mistake— it was not a murderous weapon loaded with powder and ball, but a little sturdy stone pottle, charged to the muzzle with a A HISTORY OF NEW-TORK. 249 double dram of true Dutch courage, ■which the knowing Van Corlear always carried about him by way of replenishing his valour. The hideous missive sung through the air, and true to its course, as was the mighty fragment of a rock discharged at Hector by bully Ajax, encountered the huge head of the gi- gantic Swede with matchless violence. This heaven-directed blow decided the eventful battle. The ponderous pericranium of General Jan Eisingh sunk upon his breast ; his knees tottered under him ; a deathlike torpor seized upon his giant frame, and he tumbled to the earth with such tremendous violence, that old Pluto started with affright, lest he should have broken through the roof of his infernal palace. His fall was the signal of defeat and victory. — The Swedes gave way — ^the Dutch pressed forward ; the former took to their heels, the latter hotly pursued— some entered with them, peH-meU, through the sally-port— others stormed the bastion, and others scrambled over the curtain. Thus, in a httle while, the impregnable fortress of Fort Christina, wluch hke another Troy had stood a siege of full ten hours, was finally carried by assault, without the loss of a single man on either side. Vic tory, in the likeness of a gigantic ox-fly, sat perched upon the cocked hat of the gallant Stuyvesant ; and it was universally declared, by aU the writers whom he hired to write the his- tory of his expedition, that on this memorable day he gained a sufficient quantity of glory to immortalize a dozen of the greatest heroes in Christendom 1 CHAPTER Vni. IN WHICH THE AUTHOK AND THE EEADEE, WHILE EEPOSINa AETEE THE BATTLE, FALL mTO A VEET GEAVE DISCOUESE— AETEE WHICH IS EECOEDED THE CONDUCT OF PETEE STXJYVE- SANT APTEE HIS VICTOEY. Thanks to St. Nicholas, we have safely finished this tremein- dous battle; let us sit down, my worthy reader, and cool our- selves, for I am in a prodigious sweat and agitation. — Truly this fighting of battles is hot work ! and if your great com- manders did but know what trouble they give their historians, they would not have the conscience to achieve so many horri- 250 ^ HISTORY OP NEW-TOEK. ble Tictories. But methiaks I hear my reader complain, that throughout this boasted battle, there is not the least slaughter, nor a single individual maimed, if we except the unhappy Swede, who was shorn of his queue by the trenchant blade of Peter Stuy vesant ; aU which, he observes, is a great outrage on proba- bihty, and highly injurious to the interest of the narration. This is certainly an objection of no httle moment ; but it arises entirely from the obscurity that envelopes the remote periods of time, about which I have undertaken to write. Thus, though, doubtless, from the importance of the object, and the prowess of the parties concerned, there must have been terrible carnage, and prodigies of valour displayed, before the walls of Christina, yet, notwithstanding that I have con- sulted every history, manuscript, and tradition, touching this memorable, though long-forgotten battle, I cannot find mention made of a single man killed or wounded in the whole affair. This is, without doubt, owing to the extrenae modesty of our forefathers, who, like their descendants, were never prone to vaunt of their achievements ; but it is a virtue that places their historian in a most embarrassing predicament; for, having promised my readers a hideous and unparalleled battle, and having worked them up into a warlike and bloodthirsty state of mind, to put them off without any havoc and slaughter, was as bitter a disappointment as to summon a multitude of good peo- ple to attend an execution, and then crueUy balk by a reprieve. Had the inexorable fates only allowed me some half a score of dead men, I had been content ; for I would have made them such heroes as abounded in the olden time, but whose race is now unfortunately extinct — any one of whom, if we may beheve those authentic writers, the poets, CQuld drive great armies like sheep before him, and conquer and desolate whole cities by his single arm. But seeing that I had not a single life at my disposal, all that was left me was to make the most I could of my battle, by means of kicks, and cuffs, and bruises, and such like ignoble wounds. And here I cannot but compare my dilemma, in some sort, to that of the divine Milton, who, having arrayed with sublime preparation his immortal hosts against each other, is sadly put to it how to manage them, and how he shnll make the end of his battle answer to the beginniEg ; inasmuch as, being mere spirits, he cannot deal a mortal blow, nor even give a flesh wound to any of his combatants. For my part, the greatest difficulty I found, was, when I had once put my A IIISTOnr OF ^'EW-70RK. 251 warriors in. a passion, and let them loose into the midst of the enem.y, to keep them from doing mischief. Many a time had I to restrain the sturdy Peter from cleaving a gigantic Swede to the very waistband, or spitting haJf-a-dozen Uttle fellows on his sword, like so many sparrows ; and when I had set some himdreds of missives flying ia the air, I did not dare to suffer one of them to reach the ground, lest it should have put an end to some unlucky Dutchman. The reader ca_inot conceive how mortifying it is to a writer, thus in a manner to have his hands tied, and how many tempting opportunities I had to wink at, where I might have m.ade as fine a death-blow as any recorded in history or song. From my own experience, I begin to doubt most potently of the authenticity of many of Homer's stories. I verily believe, that when he had once lanched one of his favourite heroes among a crowd of the enemy, he cut down many an honest feUow, without any authority for so doing, excepting that he presented a fair mark— and that often a poor devil was sent to grim Pluto's domains, merely because he had a name that would give a sounding turn to a period. But I disclaim all such unprincipled liberties — ^let me but have tnith and the law on pay side, and no man would fight harder than myself : but since the various records I consiilted did not warrput it, I had too much conscience to kill a single soldier. By St. Nicholas, but it would have been a pretty piece of business I My ene- mies, the critics, who I foresee wiU be ready enough to lay any crim^e they can discover at my door, might have charged me with murder outright— and I should have esteemed myself lucky to escape with no harsher verdict than manslaughter ! And now, gentle reader, that we are tranquilly sitting down here, smoking our pipes, permit me to indulge in a melancholy reflection, which at this moment passes across my mind. — How vain, how fleeting, how uncertain are aU those gaudy bubbles after which we are panting and tofling in this world of fair delusion! The wealth which the miser has amassed with so many weary days, so many sleepless nights, a spend- thrift heir may squander away in joyless prodigality. The noblest monumenti; which pride has ever reared to perpetuate a name, the hand of time will shortly tumble into ruins — and even the brightest laurels, gained by feats of arms, may wither and be for ever blighted by the chiUing neglect of man- kind. — " How many illustrious heroes," says the good Boetius, "who were once the pride and glory of the age, hath the 252 -A. BISTORT OF NEW-YORK. silence of historians buried in eternal obHYion !" And this it was that induced the Spartans, when they went to battle, solemnly to sacrifice to the muses, suppUcating that their achievements should be worthily recorded. Had not Homer tuned his lofty lyre, observes the elegant Cicero, the valour of Achilles had remained unsimg. And such, too, after all the toils and perils he had braved, after all the gallant actions he had achieved, such too had nearly been the fate of the chivalric Peter Stuyvesant, but that I fortunately stepped ia and engraved his name on the iadehble tablet of history, just as the caitifE Time was silently brushing it away for ever. The more I reflect, the more am I astonished at the impor- tant character of the histoinan. He is the sovereign censor, to decide upon the renown or infamy of his fellow-men — he is the patron of kings and conquerors, on whom it depends whether they shall Uve in after ages^ or be . forgotten, as were their ancestors before them. The tyrant may oppress while the object of his tyranny exists, but the historian possesses supe- rior might, for his power extends even beyond the grave. The shades of departed and long-forgotten heroes anxiously bend down from above, while he writes, watching each movement of his pen, whether it shall pass by their names with neglect, or inscribe them on the deathless pages of renown. Even the drop of ink that hangs trembling on his pen, which he may either dash upon the floor or waste in idle scrawMngs — that very drop, which to bi-m is not worth the twentieth part of a farthing, may be of incalculable value to some departed worthy — may elevate half a score, in one moment, to immor- tality, who would have given worlds, had they possessed them, to insure the glorious meed. Let not my readers imagine, however, that I am indulging in vain-glorious boastings, or am anxious to blazon forth the importance of my tribe. On the contrary, I shrink when I reflect on the awful- responsibility we historians assume — I shudder to think what direful commotions and calamities we occasion in the world — I swear to thee, honest reader, as I am a man, I weep at the very idea! Why, let me ask, are so many illustrious men daily tearing themselves away from the embraces of their families — sUghting the smiles of beauty — despising the allurements of fortune, and exposing themselves to the miseries of war? — Why are kings desolating empires, and depopulating whole coimtries? In short, what induces all great men, of all ages and countries, to commit so many A EISTOEY OF NEW- YORK. 253 victories and misdeeds, and inflict so many miseries upon mankind and on themselves, but the mere hope that some his- torian will kindly take them into notice, and admit them into a C(jrner of his volume. For, in short;, the mighty object of aU their 'toils, their hardships, and privations, is nothing but immortal fame — ^and what is inmaortalfame? — why, half a page of dirt;y paper ! — Alas I alas ! how humiliating the idea — ^that the renown of so great a man as Peter Stuyvesant shoiild depend ■upon the pen of so little a man as Diedrich Knickerbocker ! And now, having refreshed ourselves after the fatigues and perils of the field, it behoves us to return once more to the scene of conflict, and inquire what were the results of this renowned conquest. The fortress of Christina being the fair metropolis, and in a manner the key to New-Sweden, its cap- ture was speedily followed by the entire subjugation of the province. This was not a little promoted by the gallant and courteous deportment of the chivalric Peter. Though a man terrible in battle, yet in the hour of victory was he endued with a spirit generous, merciful, and himaane — he vaunted not over his enemies, nor did he make defeat more gaUing by un- manly insTilts; for hke that mirror of knightly virtue, the renowned Paladin Orlando, he was more anxious to do great actions than to talk of them after they were done. He put no man to death ; ordered no houses to be biu-nt down ; permitted no ravages to be perpetrated on the property of the van- quished, and even gave one of his bravest officers a severe admonishment with his walking-staff, for having been detected in the act of sacking a hen-roost. ^ He moreover issued a proclamation, inviting the inhabitants to submit to the authority of their High Mightinesses; but declaring, with unexampled clemency, thp,t whoever refused should be lodged, at the public expense, in a goodly castle pro- vided for the purpose, and . have an armed retinue to wait on them in the bargain. In consequence of these beneficent terms, about thirty Swedes stepped manfully forward and took the oath of allegiance ; in reward for which, they were graciously perinitted to remain on the banks of the Delaware, where their descendants reside at this very day. But I am told by divers observant travellers, that they have never been able to get over the chapfallen looks of their ancestors, and do stiU unaccountably transmit from father to son manifest marks of the sound drubbing given them by the sturdy Am- sterdammers. 254 -4 IIISTORT OF NEW-TOnS. The whole countiy of New-Sweden, having thus yielded to the arms of the triumphant Peter, was reduced to a colony,' called South Elver, and placed under the superintendence of a lieutenant-governor; subject to the control of the supaeme govermnent at New-Amsterdam. This gTeat dignitary was called Mynheer William Beekman, or rather Becfanan, wh<3 derived his surname, as did Ovidius Naso of yore, from, the lordly dimensions of his nose, which projected from the centre of his coimtenance hke the beak of a parrot. He was the great progenitor of the tribe of the Beekmans, one of the most ancient and honourable families of the province, the members of which do gratefully commemorate the origin of their dignity, not as your noble families in England would do, by having a glowing proboscis emblazoned in their escutcheon, but by one and all wearing a ri^ht goodly nose stuck in tho very middle of their faces. Thus was this perilous enterprise gloriously terminated with the loss of only two men — Wolfert Van Home, a taU, sparo man, who was knocked overboard by the boom of a sloop, in a flaw of wind ; and fat Brom Van Bummel, who was suddenly carried ofE by an indigestion; both, however, were immortalized as having bravely fallen in the service of their country. True it is, Peter Stuyvesant had one of his limbs terribly frac- tured, being shattered to pieces in the act of storming the fortress ; but as it was fortunately his wooden leg, the wound was promptly and efEectuaUy healed. And now nothing remains to this branch of my- history, but to mention that this immaculate hero, and his victorious army, returned joyously to the Manhattoes, where they made a sol- emn and trimnphant entry, bearing with them the conquered Eisingh, and the Bcmnant of his battered crew, who had .refused allegiance; for it appears that the gigantic Swede had only fallen into a swoon at the end of the battle, from whence he was speedily restored by a wholesome tweak of the nose. These captive heroes were lodged, according to the promise of the governor, at the public expense, in a fair and spacious castle ; being the prison of state, of which Stoff el Brinkerhoff, the immortal conqueror of Oyster Bay, was appointed gover- nor ; and which has ever since remained in the -possession of bis descendants.* * This castle, though very much altered and modernized, is still in being, and standss at tho corner of Pearl-street, facing Coenties' slip. A mSTORT OF NEW-TORK. 255 It was a pleasant and goodly sight to witness the joy of the people of New- Amsterdam, at beholding their warriors onco more return from this war in the wilderness. The old women thronged round Antony Van Corlear, who gave the whole history of the campaign with matchless accuracy : saving that he took the credit of fighting the whole battle himself, and especially of vanquishing the stout Eismgh, which he consid- ered himself as clearly entitled to, seeing that it was effected by his own stone pottle. The schoolmasters throughout the town gave holyday to their little urchins, who followed in droves after the drums, with paper caps on their heads, and sticks in their breeches, thus taking the first lesson in the art of war. As to the sturdy rabble, they thronged at the heels of Peter Stuyvesant wher- ever he went, waving their greasy hats in the air, and shout- ing " Hard-koppig Piet for everl" It was, indeed, a day of roaring rout and jubilee. A huge dinner was prepared at the Stadt-house in honour of the con- querors, where were assembled, in one glorious constellation, the great and the little luminaries of New- Amsterdam. There were the lordly Schout and his obsequious deputy — the burgo- masters with their officious schepens at their elbows— the sub- altern officers at the elbows of the schepens, and so on to the lowest hanger-on of pohco ; every Tag having his Eag at his side, to finish his pipe, drink off his heel-taps, and laugh at his flights of immortal dvilness. In short— for a city feast is a city feast all the world over, and has been a city feast ever since the creation — the dinner went off much the same as do our great corporation junketings and fourth of July banquets. Loads of fish, flesh, and fowl were devoured, oceans of liquor drunk, thousands of pipes smoked, and many a dull joke hon- oured with m.uch obstreperous fat-sided laughter. I must not omit to mention, that to this far-famed victory Peter Stuyvesant was indebted for another of his many titles — for so hugely deUghted were the honest burghers with his achievements, that they unanimously honoured him with the name of Pietrc de Groodt, that is to say, Peter the Great, or, as it was translated by the people of New- Amsterdam, Piet de Pig — an appellation which he maintained even imto the day of his death. 256 ^ msTonr of new-yoek. BOOK VII. CONTAINING THE THIRD PART OF THE REIGN OF PETER THE HEADSTRONG— HIS TROUBLES WITH THE BRITISH NATION, AND THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE DUTCH DYNASTY. CHAPTEE I. HOW PETER STtnrVESANT RELIEVED THE SOVEREIGK PEOPLE FROM THE BURTHEN OP TAKING OAEE OF THE NATION — WITH STJNDET PARTICULARS OF HIS CONDUCT IN TIME OF PEACE. The history of the reign of Peter Stuyvesant furnishes a melancholy picture of the incessant cares and vexations insep- arable from government ; and may serve as a solemn warning to all who are ambitious of attaining the seat of power. Though crowned with victory, enriched by conquest, and re- turning in triumph to his metropolis, his exultation was checked by beholding the sad abuses that had taken place dur- ing the short interval of his absence. The populace, unfortunately for their own comfort, had taken a deep draught of the intoxicating cup of power, during the reign of William the Testy ; and though, upon the accession of Peter Stuyvesant, they felt, with a certain instinctive per- ception, which mobs as well as cattle possess, that the reins of government had passed into stronger hands, yet could they not help fretting and chafing and champing upon the bit in restive silence. It seems, by some strange and ihscrutable fatality, to be the destiny of most coimtries, (and more especially of your enlight- ened republics) always to be governed by the most incompetent man in the nation — so that you will scarcely find an individual, throughout the whole community, who cannot point out in- numerable errors in administration, and convince you, in the A BISTORT OF NEW- YORK. 257 end, that had he heen at the head of affairs, matters would' have gone on a thousand times raore prosperously. Strange ! that government, which seems to be so generally understood, should invariably be so erroneously administered — strange, that the talent of legislation, so prodigally bestowed, should be denied to the only man in the nation to whose station it is requisite ! Thus it was in the present instance ; not a man of all the herd of pseudo pohticians iu New-Amsterdam, but was an oracle on topics of state, and could have directed pubUc affairs incomparably better than Peter Stuyvesant. But so severe was the old governor, iu his disposition, that he would never suffer one of the multitude of able counsellors by whom he was surrounded, to intrude his advice, and save the country from destruction. Scarcely, therefore, had he departed on his expedition against the Swedes, than the old factions of "William Kieft's reign be- gan to thrust their heads above water, and to gather together in political meetings, to discuss " the state of the nation." At these assemblages, the busy burgomasters and their officious schepens made a very considerable figure. These worthy dig- nitaries were no longer the fat, weU-fed, tranquil magistrates that presided in the peaceful days of Wouter Van TwiUer — on the contrary, being elected by the people, they formed in a manner a sturdy bulwark between the mob and the adminis- tration. They were great candidates for popularity, and strenuous advocates for the rights of the rabble ; resembhng in disinterested zeal the wide-mouthed tribunes of ancient Rome, or those virtuous patriots of modem days, emphatically de- nominated " the friends of the people." Under the tuition of these profound politicians, it is astonish- ing how suddenly enhghtened the swinish multitude became, in matters above their comprehensions. Cobblers, tinkers, and tailors, all at once felt themselves inspired, like those reUgious idiots, in the glorious times of monkish iUumination ; and, without any previous study or experience, became in- stantly capable of directing all the movements of government. Nor must I neglect to mention a number of superannuated, wrong-headed old burghers, who had come over, when boys, in the crew of the Goede Vrouw, and were held up as inf alhble oracles by the enhghtened mob. To suppose that a man who had helped to discover a country, did not know how it ought to be governed, was preposterous in the extreme. It would 268 ^ mSTORT OF A^EW- YORK. have been deemed as much a heresy, as at the present day to question the pohtical talents and universal infallibility of our old ' ' heroes of 76 " — and to doubt that he who had fought for a government, however stupid he might naturally be, was not competent to fiU. any station under it. But as Peter Stuyvesant had a singular inclination to govern his province without the assistance of his subjects, he felt highly incensed on his return to find the factious appearance they had assumed during his absence. His first measure, therefore, was to restore perfect order, by prostrating the dignity of the sovereign people. He accordingly watched his opportunity, and one evening, when the enliglitened mob was gathered together, listening to a patriotic speech from an inspired cobbler, the intrepid Peter all at once appeared among them, with a eountenance suffi- cient to petrify a mill-stone. The whole meeting was thrown into consternation— the orator seemed to have received a paralytic stroke in the very middle of a sublime sentence, and stood aghast with open mouth and trembling knees, while the words horror ! tyranny ! liberty ! rights ! taxes ! death ! destruc- tion! and a deluge of other patriotic phrases, came roaring from his throat, before he had power to close his lips. The shrewd Peter took no notice of the skiilking throng around him, but advancing to the brawhng bully-rufflan, and drawing out a huge silver watch which might have served in times of yore as a town clock, and which is stiU retained by his de- scendants as a family curiosity, requested the orator to mend it, and set it going. The orator hmnbly confessed it was utterly out of his power, as he was unacquainted with the nature of its construction. "Nay, but," said Peter, "try your ingenuity, man ; you see all the springs and wheels, and how easily the clmnsiest hand may stop it, and pull it to pieces ; and why shoiild it not be equally easy to regiilate as to stop it? The orator declared that his trade was wholly different — that he was a poor cobbler, and had never meddled with a watch in his life— that there were men skilled in the art, whose business it was to attend to those matters, but for his part, he should only mar the workmanship, and put the whole in con- fusion.— "Why, harkee, master of mine," cried Peter, turn- ing suddenly upon him, with a countenance that almost petri- fied the patcher of shoes into a perfect lap-stone — "dost thou pretend to meddle with the movements of government — ^to regu- late, and correct, and patch, and cobble a complicated machine, A mSTORT OF NEW-TOBK. 259 the principles of ■which are above thy comprehension, and its simplest operations too subtle for thy understanding; when thou canst not correct a trifling error in a common piece of mechanism, the whole mystery of which is open to thy in- spection? — Hence with thee to the leather and stone, which are emblems of thy head ; cobble thy shoes, and confine thyself to the vocation for which Heaven has fitted thee. — But," elevating his voice imtU it made the welkin ring, "if ever I catch thee, or any of thy tribe, meddling again with afEairs of government, by St. Nicholas, but I'U have every mother's bastard of ye flay'd aUve, and your hides stretched for drum- heads, that ye may thenceforth make a noise to som.e piu-pose !" This threat, and the tremendous voice in which it was ut- tered, caused the whole multitude to quake with fear. The hair of the orator arose on his head like his own swine's bristles, and not a knight of the thimble present but his heart died within him, and he felt as though he could have verUy escaped through the eye of a needle. But though this measure produced the desired efEect in re- ducing the community to order, yet it tended to injure the popularity of the great Peter among the enhghtened vulgar. Many accused him of entertaining highly aristocratic senti- ments, and of leaning too much in favour of the patricians. Indeed, there appeared to be some ground for such an accusa- tion, as he always carried himself with a very lofty, soldier- like port, and was somewhat particular in his dress ; dressing himself, when not in imiform, in simple, but rich apparel, and was especially noted for having his sound leg (which was a very comely one) always arrayed in a red stocking, and high- heeled shoe. Though a man of great simpUcity of manners, yet there was something about him that repelled rude famili- arity, while it encouraged frank, and even social intercourse. He likewise observed some appearance of court ceremony and etiquette. He received the common class of visitors on the stoop* before his door according to the custom of oiir Dutch ancestors. But when visitors were formally received in his parlour, it was expected they would appear in clean linen ; by no means to be bare-footed, and always to take their hats ofiE. On public occasions, ho appeared with great pomp of equipage, (for, in truth, his station required a little show and * Properlr spelled stoefe— the porch commonly built in front of Dutch houses, with benches on each side. 260 A mSTOllT OF NEW-TORK. dignity) and always rode to church in a yellow wagon with flaming red wheels. These symptoms of state and ceremony occasioned consider- able discontent among the vulgar. They had been acciLStomed to find easy access to their former governors, and ia particular had lived on terms of extreme familiarity with WiUiam tho Testy. They therefore were very impatient of these dignified precautions, which discovtraged iatrusion. But Peter Stuyve- sant had his own way of thinking in. these matters, and was a staunch upholder of the dignity of office. Ho always maintaiaed that govermnent to be the least popu- lar which is most open to popular access and control; and that the very brawlers against court ceremony, and the reseive of men in power, would soon despise rulers among whom they found even themselves to be of consequence. Such, at least, had been the case with the administration of WiUiam the Testy ; who, bent on making himself popular, had hstened to every man's advice, suflEered everybody to have admittance to his person at all hours, and, in a word, treated every one as his thorough equal. By this means, every scrub politician, and pubUc busy-body, was enabled to measure wits with him, and to find out the true dimensions, not only of his person, but his mind. — ^And what great man can stand such scrutiny? — ^It is the mystery that envelopes great men that gives them half their greatness. We are always iacUned to think highly of those who hold themselves aloof from our examination. There is likewise a kind of superstitious reverence for office, which leads us to exaggerate the merits and abilities of men in power, and to suppose that they must be constituted different from other men. And, indeed, faith is as necessary in poUtics as in rehgion. It certainly is of the first importance, that a country should be governed by wise men ; but then it is almost equally important, that the people should behove them to be wise ; for this belief alone can produce wiLing subordination. To keep up, therefore, this desirable confidence in rulers, the people should be allowed to see as little of them as possible. He who gains access to cabinets soon finds out by what foolish- ness the world is governed. Ho discovers that there is quack- ery in legislation, as well as in every thing else ; that many a measure, which is supposed by the miUion to be the result of great wisdom, and deep deliberation, is the effect of mere chance, or, perhaps, of harebrained experiment — that rulers have their whims and errors as weU. as other men, and after A mSTORT OF NEW-YOEH 261 all are not so wonderfully superior to their feUow-creatures as he at first imagiaed ; since he finds that even his own opinions have had some weight with them. Thus awe subsides into confidence, confidence inspires familiarity, and familiarity produces contempt. Peter Stuyvesant, on the contrary, by conducting himself with dignity and loftiness, was looked up to with great reverence. As he never gave his reasons for any thirlg he did, the public always g&ve him credit for very pro- found ones — every movement, however iatrinsically unimpor- tant, was a matter of speculation, and his very red stockings excited some respect, as being different from the stockings of other men. To these times may we refer the rise of family pride and aristocratic distinctions ;* and indeed, I cannot but look back with reverence to the early planting of those mighty Dutch families, which have taken such vigorous root, and branched out so luxuriantly in our state. The blood which has flowed down uncontaminated through a succession of steady, virtuouis generations since the times of the patriarchs of Communipaw, must certainly be pure and worthy. And if so, then are the Van Eensselaers, the Van Zandts, the Van Homes, the Rut- gers, the Bensons, the BrinkerhofiEs, the Schermerhomes, and all the true descendants of the ancient Pavonians, the only legitimate nobility and real lords of the soU. I have been led to mention thus particularly the well- authenticated claims of our genuine Dutch families, because I have noticed, with great sorrow and vexation, that they have been somewhat elbowed aside in latter days by foreign intrud- ere. It is reaUy eistonishing to behold how many great fami- lies have sprung up of late years, who pride themselves exces- sively' on the score of ancestry. Thus he who can look up to his father without hmniliation assmnes not a little importance — he who can safely talk of his grandfather, is still more vain- glorious — but he who can look back to his great-grandfather without blushing, is absolutely intolerable in his pretensions to family — ^bless us ! what a piece of work is here, between these mushrooms of an hour, and these mushrooms of a day ! But from what I have recounted in the former part of this * In a work published many years after the time here treated of (in 1701, by C. W. A. M.), it is mentioned that Frelerick Philipse was counted the richest Mynheer in New- York, and was said to have wliole hogsheads of Indian money or wampum; and had a son and daughter, who, according: to the Dutch ciistom, should divide it equally 262 -4 niSTORT OF NEW- YORK. chapter, I would not have my reader imagine that the great Peter was a tyrannical governor, ruling his subjects with a rod of iron — on the contrary, where the dignity of authority was not implicated, he abounded with generosity and courteous con- descension. In fact, he really believed, though I fear my more enlightened repubhcan readers will consider it a proof of his ignorance and illiberahty, that in preventing the cup of social life from being dashed with the intoxicating ingredient of pohtics, he promoted the tranquillity and happiness of the people — and by detaching their minds from subjects which they could not understand, and which only tended to inflame their passions, he enabled them to attend more faithfully and industriously to their proper callings ; becoming more useful citizens, and more attentive to their families and fortunes. So far from having any unreasonable austerity, he delighted to see the poor and the labouring man rejoice, and for this pur- pose was a grea.t promoter of holydays and public amusements. Under his reign was first introduced the custom of cracking eggs at Paas, or Easter. New-year's day was also observed with extravagant festivity, and ushered in by the ringing of bells and firing of guns. Every house was a temple to the jolly god— oceans of cherry brandy, true Hollands, and mulled cider, were set afloat on the occasion ; and not a poor man in town but made it a point to get drunk, out of a principle of pure economy — ^taking in liquor enough to serve him for half a year afterwards. It would have done one's heart good, also, to have seen the valiant Peter, seated among the old burghers and their wives of a Saturday afternoon, under the great trees that spread their shade over the Battery, watching the young men and women, as they danced on the green. Here he would smoke his pipe, crack his joke, and forget the rugged toils of war in the sweet obMvious festivities of peace. He would occasionally give a nod of approbation to those of the young men who shuffled and kicked most vigorously, and now and then give a hearty smack, in all honesty of soul, to the buxom lass that held out longest, and tired down all her competitors, which he considered as infallible proofs of her being the best dancer. Once, it is true, the harmony of the meeting was rather inter- rupted. A young vrouw, of great figure in the gay world, and who, having lately come from HoUand, of course led the fash- ions in the city, made her appearance in not more than half-a- dozcn petticoats, and these too of most alarming shortness. A HISTORY OF NlSW-YOnK. 26L5 An universal ■whisper ran through the assembly, the old ladies aU felt shocked in the extreme, the young ladies blushed, and felt excessively for the "poor thing," and even the governor himself was observed to be a httle troubled in mind. To com- plete the astonishment of the good folks, she undertook, in the course of a jig, to describe some astonishing figures tn algebra, which she had learned from a dancing-master at Rotterdam. "Whether she was too Einimated in flourishing her feet, or whether some vagabond zeyphr took the hberty of obtruding his services, certain it is that in the course of a grand evolu- tion, which would not have disgraced a modern baU-room, she made a most unexpected display — whereat the whole assembly was thrown into great admiration, several grave country members were not a little moved, and the good Peter himself, who was a man of unparalleled modesty, felt himself grievously scandalized. The shortness of the female-dresses, which had continued in fashion ever since the days of William Kief t, had long offended his eye, and though extremely averse to meddling with the petticoats of the ladies, yet he immediately recommended that every one should be furnished with a flounce to the bottom. He likewise ordered that the ladies, and indeed the gentlemen, should use no other step in dancing, than shuffle-and-turn, and double-trouble; and forbade, under pain of his high displeasure, any yoimg lady thenceforth to attempt what was termed "exhibiting the graces." These were the only restrictions he ever imposed upon the sex, and these were considered by them as tyrannical oppres- sions, and resisted with that becoming spirit always mani- fested by the gentler sex, whenever their privileges are invaded. — In fact, Peter Stuyvesant plainly perceived that if he attempted to push the matter any farther, there was danger of their leaving off petticoats altogether ; so like a wise man, experienced in the ways of women, he held his peace, and suf- fered them ever after to wear their petticoats and cut their capers as high as they pleased. 264 ^ HI8T0RT OF NEW- YORK. CHAPTER n. HOW PETEE STUVVESANT WAS MUCH MOLESTED BY THE MOSS- TEOOPERS OP THE EAST, AND THE GIANTS OF MERETLAND — AND HOW A DARK AND HORRID CONSPIRACY WAS CARRIED ON IN THE BRITISH CABINET AGAINST THE PROSPERITY OF THE MANHATTOES. We are now approachiQg towards the crisis of our work, and if I be not mistaken in my forebodings, we sbaU have a world of business to despatch in the ensuing chapters. It is with some communities, as it is with certain meddle- some individuals, they have a wonderful facility at getting into scrapes ; and I have always remarked, that those are most liable to get in who have the least talent at getting out again. This is, doubtless, owing to the excessive valour of those states; for I have likewise noticed that this rampant and ungovernable quality is always most unruly where most con- fined ; which accounts for its vapouring so ama2angly in Uttle states, httle men, and ugly httle women especially. Thus, when one reflects, that the province of the Manhattoes, though of prodigious importance in the eyes of its inhabitants and its historian, was really of no very great consequence in the eyes of the rest of the world ; that it had but little wealth or other spoils to reward the trouble of assaying it, and that it had nothing to expect from running wantonly into war, save an exceeding good beating. — On pondering these things, I say, one would utterly despair of finding in its history either battles or bloodshed, or any other of those calamities which give impor- tance to a nation, and entertainment to the reader. But, on the contrary, we flmd, so valiant is this province, that it has already drawn upon itseK a host of enemies ; has had as many bufEetings as would gratify the ambition of the most warlike nation ; and is, in sober sadness, a very forlorn, distressed, and woe-begone little province ! — all which was, no doubt, kindly ordered by Providence, to give interest and sublimity to this pathetic history. But I forbear to enter into a detail of the pitiful maraudings and harassments, that, for a long while after the victory on the Delaware, continued to insult the dignity, and distiu-b the repose, of the Nederlanders. Suffice it in brevity to say, that A niSTOBT OF NEW-TORE. 265 the implacable hostility of the people of the east, which had so miraculously been prevented from breaking out, as my readers must remember, by the sudden prevalence of witch- craft, and the dissensions in the council of Amphyctions, now again displayed itseK in a thousand grievous and bitter scourings upon the borders. Scarcely a month passed but what the Dutch settlements on the frontiers were alarmed by the sudden appearance of an invading army from Connecticut. This would advance reso- lutely through the country, like a puissant caravan of the deserts, the women and children mounted in. carts loaded with pots and kettles, as though they meant to boil the honest Dutchmen alive, and devour them like so many lobsters. At the tails of these carts would stalk a crew of long-hmbed, lank- sided varlets, with axes on their shoidders and packs on their backs, resolutely bent upon improving the country in despite of its proprietors. These, settling themselves down, would in a short time completely dislodge the unfortunate Nederland- ers ; elbowing them out of those rich bottoms and fertile val- leys, in which our Dutch yeomanry are so famous for nestUng themselves. For it is notorious, that wherever these shrewd men of tne east get a footing, the honest Dutchmen do gradu- ally disappear, retiring slowly, hke the Indians before the whites; being totally discomfited by the talking, chaffering, swapping, bargaining disposition of their new neighbours. All these audacious infringements on the territories of their High Mightinesses were accompanied, as has before been hinted, by a world of rascally brawls, ribroastings, and bund • lings, which would doubtless have incensed the vahant Peter to wreak immediate chastisement, had he not at the very same, time been perplexed by distressing accounts from Mynheer Beckman, who commanded the territories at South river. The restless Swedes, who had so graciously been suffered to remain about the Delaware, already began to show signs of mutiny and disaffection. But what was worse, a peremptory claim was laid to the whole territory, as the rightful property of Lord Baltimore, by Fendal, a chieftain who ruled over the colony of Maryland, or Merry-land, as it was anciently called, because that the inhabitants, not having the fear of the Lord before their eyes, were notoriously prone to get fuddled ond make merry with mint- julep and apple-toddy. Nay, so hostile was this bully Fendal, that he threatened, unless his claim was instantly complied with, to march incontinently at the head of 266 4 HISTORY OP NEW-TORj^. a potent force of the roaring boys of Merry-land, together with a great and mighty train of giants, -who infested the banks of the Susquehanna* — and to lay waste and depopiilate the whole country of South river. By this it is manifest, that this boasted colony, like all great acquisitions of territory, soon became a greater evil to the con- queror than the loss of it was to the conquered ; and caused greater uneasiness and trouble than all the territory of the New-Netherlands besides. Thus Providence wisely orders that one evil shall balance another. The conqueror who wrests the property of his neighbour, who wrongs a nation and desolates a country, though he may acquire increase of empire and im- mortal fame, yet insures his own inevitable punishment. , Ho takes to himself a cause of endless anxiety — ^he incorporates" with his late sound domain a loose part — a rotten, disafiected member; which is an exhaustless source of internal treason and disunion, and external altercation and hostility. Happy is that nation, which compact, united, loyal in all its parts, and concentrated in its strength, seeks no idle acquisition of un- profitable and ungovernable territory — which, content to be prosperous and happy, has no ambition to be gi'eat. It is hkc a man weU organized in his system, sound in health, and full of vigour ; unencumbered by useless trappings, and fixed in an unshaken attitude. But the nation, insatiable of territory, whose domains are scattered, feebly .united and weakly organ- ized, is like a senseless miser sprawhng among golden stores, open to every attack, and tmable to defend the riches he vainly endeavours to overshadow. At the time of receiving the alarming despatches from South river, the great Peter was busily employed in queLing certain Indian troubles that had broken out about Esopus, and was moreover meditating how to reMeve his eastern borders on the Connecticut. He, however, sent word to Mynheer Beckman to be of good heart, to medntain incessant vigilance, and to let * We find very curious and wonderful accounts of these strange people (who were doubtless the ancestors of the present Marylanders) made by Master Hariot, in his interesting: history. " The Supquesahanocks," observer he, " are a giantly people, strange in proportion, behaviour, and attire — their voice sounding from them as if out of a cave. Their tobacco-pipes were three quarters of a yard long, carved at the great end with a bird, beare, or other device, sufficient to beat out the braines of a horse, (and how many asses braines are beaten out, or rather men's braines smoked out, and asses braines haled in, by our lesser pipes at home.) The calfe of one of their legges measured three quarters of a yard about, the rest of his limbs proportionable.'* — Master HarioVs Jaurn. Purch. IHl. A HISTORY OF NEW-YORK. 267 him know if matters wore a more threatening appearance; in which case he would incontinently repair with his warriors of the Hudson, to spoil the merriment of these Merry -landers ; for he coveted exceedingly to have a bout, hand to hand, with some half a score of these giants— having never encountered a giant in his whole hfe, unless we may so call the stout Eisingh, and he was but a httle one. Nothing farther, however, occurred to molest the tran- quillity of Mynheer Beckman and his colony. Feudal and his myrmidons remained at home, carousing it soundly upon hoe-cakes, bacon, and mint-julep, and running horses, and fighting cocks, for which they were greatly renowned. — At hearing of tliis, Peter Stuyvesant was very well pleased, for notwithstanding his inchnation to measure weapons with these monstrous men of the Susquehanna, yet he had eilready as much employment nearer home as he could turn liis hands to. Little did he think, worthy soul, that this southern calm was but the deceitful prelude to a most terrible and fatal storm, then brewing, which was soon to burst forth and over- whelm the unsuspecting city of Now- Amsterdam. Now so it was, that while this excellent governor was giving his little senate laws, and not only giving them, but enforcmg them too — while he was incessantly travelling the rounds of his beloved province— posting from place to place to redress grievances, and while busy at one comer of his dominions, all the rest getting into an uproar— at this very time, I say, a dtirk and direful plot was hatching against him, in that nursery of monstrous projects, the British cabinet. The news of his achievements on the Delaware, according to a sage old historian of New- Amsterdam, had occasioned not a little talk and marvel in the courts of Europe. And the same profound writer assures us, that the cabinet of England began to enter- tain great jealousy and uneasiness at the increasing power of the Manhattoes, and the valour of its stm-dy yeomanry. Agents, the same historian observes, were sent by the Am- phyctionic council of the east to entreat the assistance of the British cabinet in subjugating this mighty province. Lord Sterling also asserted his right to Long Island, and at the same time. Lord Baltimore, whose agent, as has before been men- tioned, had so alarmed Mynheer Beckman, laid his claim be- fore the cabm«t to the lands of South river, which he com- plained were unjustly and forcibly detained from him by these daring usui-pers of the Nieuw-Nederlandts. 268 -^ HISTORY OF NEW-YORK. Thus did the ttnlucky empire of the Manhattoes stand in iniminent danger of experiencing the fate of Poland, and being torn limb from limb to be shared among its savage neighbours. But whUe these rapacious powers were whetting their fangs, and WEiiting for the signal to fall tooth and nail upon this delicious httle fat Dutch empire, the lordly Hon, who sat as umpire, all at once settled the claims of aU parties, by laying this own paw upon the spoil. For we are told that his majesty, Charles the Second, not to be perplexed by adjusting these several pretensions, made a present of a large tract of North America, including the province of New-Netherlands, to his brother, the Duke of York — a donation truly loyal, since none but great monarchs have a right to give away what does not belong to them. That this munificent gift might not be merely nominal, his majesty, on the 12th of March, 1G64, ordered that an armament should be forthwith prepared, to invade the city of New- Am- sterdam by land and water, and put his brother in complete possession of the premises. Thus critically are situated the afiEairs of the New-Nethcr- landers. The honest burghers, so far from thinking of the jeopardy in which their interests are placed, are soberly smoking their pipes, and thinking of nothing at all— the privy counsoUors of the province are at this moment snoring in full quorum, whUe the acting Peter, who takes all the labour of thinking and active upon himself, is busily devising some method of bringing the grand council of Amphyctions to terms. In the meanwhile, an angry cloud is darkly scowling on the horizon — soon shaU it rattle about the ears of these dozing Nederlanders, and put the mettle of their stout-hearted governor completely to the trial. But come what may, 1 here pledge my veracity that in all warlike conflicts and subtle perplexities, he shall still acquit himself with the gallant bearing and spotless honour of a noble-minded, obstinate old cavaUer. — Forward then to the charge ! —shine out, propitious stars, on the renowned city of the Manhattoes; and may the blessing of St. Nicholas go with thee— honest Peter Stuyvesant ! A BISTORT OF NEW- YORK. 239 CHAPTER III. OF PETER STtrrraSANT's EXPEDITION INTO THE EAST COUNTRY, SHOWING THAT THOUSH AN OLD BIRD HE DID NOT UNDEIT STAND TRAP. Great nations resemble great men in this particular, that their greatness is seldom known until they get in trouble; adversity, therefore, has been wisely denominated the ordeal of true greatness, which, Hke gold, can never receive its real estimation, until it has passed through the furnace. In pro- portion, therefore, as a nation, a community, or an individual (possessing the inherent quality of greatness) is involved in perils and misfortunes, in proportion does it rise la grandeur — and even when sinking under calamity, makes, like a house on fire, a more glorious display than ever it did in the fairest period of its prosperity. The vast empire of China, though teeming with poptilation and imbibing and concentrating the wealth of nations, has vegetated through a succession of drowsy ages ; and were it not for its iutemal revolution, and the subversion of its ancient government by the Tartars, might have presented nothing but an uninteresting detail of dull, monotonous prosperity. Pom- peii and Herculaneum might have passed into oblivion, with a herd of their contemporaries, if they had not been fortunately overwhelmed by a volcano. The renowned city of Troy has acquired celebrity only from its ten years' distress, and final conflagration — Paris rises in importance by the plots and mas- sacres which have ended in the exaltation of the illustrious Napoleon — and even the mighty London itself has skulked through the records of time, celebrated for nothing of moment, excepting the plague, the great fire, and Guy Faux's gun- powder plot! — Thus cities and empires seem to creep along, enlarging in silent obscurity under the pen of the historian, until at length they burst forth in some tremendous calamity — and snatch, as it were, immortality from the explosion ! The above principle being admitted, my reader wiU plainly perceive that the city of New- Amsterdam, and its dependent province, are on the high road to greatness. Dangers and hostilities threaten from every side,' and it is really a matter of astonishment to me, how so small a state has been able, in 270 A HISTORY OF NEW-YORK. so short a time, to entangle itself in so many difflculties. Ever since the province was first taken by the nose, at the Fort of Good Hope, in the tranquil days of Wouter Van Twillcr, has it been gradually increasing in historic import- ance ; and never could it have had a more appropriate chief- tain to conduct it to the pinnacle of grandeur, than Peter Stuyvesant. In the fiery heart of' this iron-headed old warrior sat en- throned aU those five kinds of courage described by Aristotle, and had the philosopher mentioned five himdred more to the back of them, I verily beheve he would have been found mas- ter of them aU. The only misfortune was, that he was defi- cient in the better part of valour, called discretion, a cold- blooded virtue which could not exist in the tropical climate of his mighty soul. Hence it was, he was continually htirrying into those unheard-of enterprises that gave an air of chivaJric romance to all his history, and hence it was that he now con- ceived a project worthy of the hero of La Mancha himself. This was no other than to repair in person to the great council of the Amphyctions, bearing the sword in one hand and the olive-branch in the other — to require immediate repa- ration for the innumerable violations of that treaty which in an evil hour he had formed — to put a stop to those repeated maraudings on the eastern borders — or else to throw his gauntlet and appeal to arms for satisfaction. On declaring this resolution in his privy council, the vener- able members were seized with vast astonishment ; for once in their Uves they ventured to remonstrate, setting forth the rashness of exposing his sacred person in the midst of a strange and barbarous people, with sundry other weighty remon- strances—all which had about as much influence upon the determination of the headstrong Peter as though you were to endeavour to turn a rusty weathercock with a broken:- winded beUows. Summoning, therefore, to his presence his trusty follower, Antony Van Corlear, he commanded him to hold himself in readiness to accompany him the following morning on this his hazardous enterprise. Now Antony the trumpeter was a little stricken in years, yet by dint of keeping up a good heart, and having never known care or sorrow,- (having never been mar- ried,) he was stiU a hearty, jocund, rubicund, gamesome wag, and of great capacity in the doublet. This last was ascribed to his living a jolly life on those domains at the Hook, which A HISTORY OF NEW-TORK. 271 Peter Stuyvesant had granted to him for his gallantry at Fort Casimir. Be this as it may, there was nothing that more dehghted Antony than this command of the great Peter, for he could have followed the stout-hearted old governor to the world's end with love and loyalty — and he moreover stiU. remembered the frolicking, and dancing, and bundling, and other disports of the east country, and entertained dainty recollection of numerous kind and buxom lasses, whom he longed exceedingly again to encoimter. Thus, then, did this mirror of hardihood set forth, with no other attendant but his trumpeter, upon one of the most perilous enterprises ever recorded in the annals of knight- errantry. For a single warrior to venture openly among a whole nation of foes; but above all, for a plain downright Dutchman to think of negotiating with the whole council of New-England — ^never was there known a more desperate un- dertaking! — Ever since I have entered upon the chronicles of this peerless, but hitherto uncelebrated, chieftain, has he kept me in a state of incessant action and anxiety with the toils and dangers he is constantly encountering. — Oh! for a chapter of the tranquil reign of Wouter Van TwiUer, that I might repose on it as on a feather bed ! Is it not enough, Peter Stuyvesant, that I have once already rescued thee from the machinations of these terrible Amphyc- tions, by bringing the whole powers of witchcraft to thine aid? — Is it not enough that I have followed thee undaimted, like a guardian spirit, into the midst of the horrid battle of j&'ort Christina? — That I have been put incessantly to my trumps to keep thee safe and sound — now warding off with my single pen the shower of dastard blows that fell upon thy rear — ^now narrowly shielding thee from a deadly thrust, by a mere tobacco-box — now casing thy dauntless skuU with ada- mant, when even thy stubborn ram-beaver failed to resist the sword of the stout Eisingh — and now, not merely bringing thee off aUve, but triumphant, from the clutches of the gigan- tic Swede, by the desperate means of a paltry stone pottle? — Is not aU this enough, but must thou still be plunging into new difflciilties, and jeopardizing in headlong enterprises, thy- self, thy trumpeter, and thy historian? And now the ruddy -faced Aurora, like a buxom chamber- maid, draws aside the sable curtains of the night, and out bounces from his bed the joUy red-haired Phoebus, startled at 272 4 HISTORY OF NEW-TORE. being caught so late in the embraces of Dame Thetis. With many a sable oath, he harnesses his brazen-footed steeds, and whips and lashes, and splashes up the firmament, like a loiter- ing i30st-boy, half an houi- behind his time. And now behold that imp of fame and prowess, the headstrong Peter, bestrid- ing a raw-boned, switch-tailed charger, gallantly arrayed in full regimentals, and bracing on his thigh that trusty brass- hilted sword, which had wrought such fearful deeds on the banks of the Delawane. Behold, hard after him, his doughty trumpeter Van Corlear, mounted on a broken- winded, waU-eyed, cahco mare ; his stone pottle, which had laid low the mighty Risingh, slung under his arm, and his trumpet displayed vauntingly in his right hand, decorated with a gorgeous banner, on which is emblazoned the great beaver of the Manhattoes. See them proudly issuing out of the city gate like an iron-clad hero of yore, with his faithful 'squire at his heels, the populace following them with their eyes, and shouting many a parting wish and hearty cheering. — FareweU, Hardkoppig Piet! Farewell, honest An- tony ! — Pleasant be your wayiaiing — prosperous your return I The stoutest hero tlaat ever drew a sword, and the worthiest trumpeter that ever trod shoe-leather ! Legends are lamentably silent about the events that befell our adventurers in this their adventurous travel, excepting the Stuyvesant manuscript, which gives the substance of a pleas- ant little leroic poem written on the occasion by Domini -^Sgidius Luyck,* who appears to have been the poet laureat of New-Amsterdam. This inestimable manuscript assures us that it was a rare spectacle to behold the great Peter and hiS loyal follower h ailin g the morning sun, and rejoicing in the clear countenance of nature, as they pranced it through the pastoral scenes of Bloemen Dael ; t which in those days was a sweet and rural valley, ^beautified with many a bright wUd flower, refreshed by many a pure streamlet, and enhvened here and there by a delectable little Dutch cottage, sheltered under some sloping hill, and almost buried in. embowering trees. Now did they enter upon the confines of Connecticut, where • they encountered many grievous difficulties and perils. At ^- This Luyck was, moreover, rector of the Latin School m Nieuw-Nederlandt, IGfiiB. There are two pieces addressed to ^(^idius Luyck, in D. Selyn's MSS. of poesies, upon his marriage with Judith Isendoorn. Old MS. + Now called Blooming Dale, about four miles from New- York. A UISTOKT OF NEW-TORK. 273 one place they were assailed by a troop of country 'squires and militia colonels, who, mounted on goodly steeds, hung upon their rear for several miles, harassing them exceedingly with guesses and questions, more especially the worthy Peter, whose silver-chased leg excited not a httle marvel. At another place, hard by the renowned town of Stamford, they were set upon by a great and mighty legion of church deacons, who imperi- ously demanded of them five shiUings, for travelling on Sun- day, and threatened to carry them captive to a neighbouring church, whose steeple peered above the trees; but these the valiant Peter put to rout with httle diflScuIty, insomuch that they bestrode their canes and galloped o£E in horrible con- fusion, leaving their cocked hats behind in the hurry of their flight. But not so easily did he escape from the hands of a crafty man of Piquag ; who,, with undaunted perseverance, and repeated onsets, fau-ly bargained him out of his goodly switched-taUed charger, leaving in place thereof a viUainous foundered Narraganset pacer. But, maugre aU these hardships, they pursued their journey cheerily along the course of the soft flowiag Connecticut, whose gentle waves, says the song, roU through many a fer- tile vale and sunny plain ; now reflecting the lofty spires of the bustUng city, and now the rural beauties of the humble ham- let ; now echoing with the busy hum of commerce, and now with the cheerful song of the peasant. At every town would Peter Stuyvesant, who was noted for warlike punctflio, order the sturdy Antony to sound a cour- teous salutation; though the manuscript observes, that the inhabitants were thrown into great dismay when they heard of his approach. For the fame of his incomparable achieve- ments on the Delaware had spread throughout the east coun- try, and they dreaded lest he had come to take vengeance on their manifold transgressions. But the good Peter rode through these towns with a smiling aspect ; waving his hand with inexpressible majesty and con- descension ; for he verily beheved that the old clothes which these ingenious people had thrust into their broken windows, and the festoons of dried apples and peaches which ornamented the fronts of their houses, were so many decorations in honour of his approach ; as it was the custom, in the days of chivalry, to complinient renowned heroes by sumptuous displays of tapestry and gorgeous furniture. The women crowded to the doors to gaze upon him as he passed, so much does prowess in 274 4 BISTORT OF NEW-TORE. arms delight the gentle sex. The little children, too, ran aftei him in troops, staring with wonder at his regimentals, his brimstone breeches, and the sUver garniture of his wooden leg. Nor must I omit to mention the joy which many strap- ping wenches betrayed at beholding the jovial Van Corlear, who had whilom dehghted them so much with his trumpet, when he bore the great Peter's challenge to the Amphyctions. The kind-hearted Antony alighted from his calico mare, and kissed them aU with infinite loving kindness— and was right pleased to see a crew of Httle trumpeters crowding around him for his blessing; each of whom he patted on the head, bade Mm be a good boy, and gave him a penny to buy molasses candy. The Stuyvesant manuscript makes but Httle farther mention of the governor's adventures upon this expedition, excepting that he was received with extravagant courtesy and respect by the great council of the Amphyctions, who almost talked him to death with complimentary and congratulatory ha- rangues. I will not detain my readers by dwelling on his negotiations with the grand council. Suffice it to mention, it was like all other negotiations — a great deal was said, and very little done: one conversation led to another— one conference begat misunderstandings which it took a dozen conferences to explain ; at the end of which, the parties found themselves just where they were at first ; excepting that they had entangled themselves in a host of questions of etiquette, and conceived a cordial distrust of each other, that rendered their futm-e nego- tiations ten times more difficult than ever.* In the midst of all these perplexities, which bewildered the brain and incensed the ire of the sturdy Peter, who was per- haps of all men in the world least fitted for diplomatic wiles, he privately received the first intimation of the dark con- spiracy which had been matured in the Cabinet of England. To this was added the astounding inteUigence that a hostile squadron had ah-eady saUed from England, destined to reduce the province of New-Netherlands, and that the grand council of Amphyctions had engaged to co-operate, by sending a great army to invade New- Amsterdam by land. Unfortunate Peter! did I not enter with sad forebodmg * For certain of the particulars of this ancient negotiation see Haz. Col. State Papers. It is singular that Smith is entirely silent with respect to this memorable expedition of Peter Stuyvesant. A IIISTOIIY OF NEW-YORE. 275 upon this ill-starred expedition? did I not tremble when I saw thee, with no other counsellor but thine own head, with no , other armour but an honest tongue, a spotless conscience, and a rusty sword ! with no other protector but St. Nicholas— ^and no other attendant but a trumpeter — did I not tremble when I beheld thee thus saUy forth to contend with all the knowing powers of New-England? Oh, how did the stui'dy old warrior rage and roar, when he found himself thus entrapped, like a Hon in the hunter's toil ! Now did he determine to draw his trusty sword, and manfiiUy to fight his way through all the countries of the east. Now did ho resolve to break in upon the council of the Amphyc- tions, and put every mother's son of them to death. At length, as his direful wrath subsided, he resorted to safer though less glorious expedients. Concealing from, the council his knowledge of their machi- nations, he privately dispatched a trusty messenger, with mis- sives to his counsellors at New-Amsterdam, apprising them of the impending danger, commanding them immediately to put the city in a posture of defence, while in the meantime he would endeavoiu- to elude his enemies and come to their assist- ance. This done, he felt himseK marvellously reheved, rose slowly, shook himself like a rhinoceros, and issued forth from his den, in much the same manner as Giant Despau- is de- scribed to have issued from Doubting Castle, in the chivah-ic history of the Pilgrim's Progress. And now, much does it giieve me that I must leave the gal- lant Peter in this imminent jeopardy: but it behoves us to hurry back and see what is going on at New -Amsterdam, for greatly do I fear that city is already iu a turmoil. Such was ever the fate of Peter Stuy vesant ; while doing one thing with heart and soul, he was too apt to leave every thing else at sixes and sevens. While, like a potentate of yore, he was absent, attending to those things in person, which in modern days are trusted to generals and ambassadors, his httle terri- tory at home was sure to get in an uproar. — All which was owing to that tmcommon strength of intellect which induced him to trust to nobody but himself, and which had acquired him the renowned appellation of Peter the Headstrong. 276 A EISTORT OF NEW-YORK. CHAPTEE IV. HOW THE PEOPLE OF NEW-AMSTERDAM WERE THROWN INTO A GREAT PANIC, BY THE NEWS OF A THREATENED INVASION, AND THE MANNER IN WHICH THEY FORTIFIED THEMSELVES. There is no sight more truly interesting to a philosopher, than to contemplate a community, whore every individual has a voice in public affairs, where every individual thinks him- seK the Atlas of the nation, and where every individual thinks it his duty to bestir himself for the good of his country. — I say, there is nothing more interesting to a philosopher, than to see such a community in a sudden bustle of war. Such a clamour of tongues — such a bawhn;^ of patriotism— such run- ning hither and thither— every body in a hurry— every body up to the ears in trouble — every body in the way, and every body interrupting his industrious neighbour — who is busily employed in doing nothing ! It is hke witnessing a great fire, whore every man is at work hke a hero— some dragging about empty engines — others scampering with fuU buckets, and spill- ing the contents into the boots of their neighbours — and others ringing the church bells all night, by way of putting out the fire. Little firemen, like sturdy little knights storming a breach, clambering up and down scaling-ladders, and bawling through tin trumpets, by way of directing the attack. — Here one busy fellow, in his great zeal to save the property of the unfortunate, catches up an anonymous chamber utensil, and gallants it off with an air of as much self-importance, as if he had rescued a pot of money — another throws looking-glasses and china out of the window, to save them from the flames, whilst those who can do nothing else to assist the great calam- ity, i-un up and down the streets with open throats, keeping up an incessant cry of Fire ! Fire ! Fire ! "When the news arrived at Sinope,'' says the grave and profound Lucian — though I own the story is rather trite, ' ' that Philip was about to attack them, the inhabitants were thrown "nto violent alarm. Some rein to furbish up their arms; others rolled stones to build up the walls — every body, in short, was employed, and every body was in the way of his neighbour. Diogones alone was the only man who could find nothing to do — whereupon, determining not to be idle when the welfare of A mSTORT OF NEW-TORE. 277 his country was at stake, he tucked up his robe, and fell to rolling his tub with might and main up and down the Gymna- sium." In like manner did every mother's son, in the patriotic community of New- Amsterdam, on receiving the missives of Peter Stuyvesant, busy himself most mightily in putting things in confusion, and assisting the general uproar. " Every man" — saith the Stuyvesant manuscript — " flew to arms!" — by which is meant, that not one of our honest Dutch citizens would venture to church or to market, without an old-fash- ioned spit of a sword dangling at his side, and a long Dutch fowling-piece on his shoulder — nor would he go out of a night without a lantern; nor turn a comer without first peeping cautiously round, lest he should come unawares upon a British army. — And we are informed that Stoffel Brinkerhoff, who was considered by the old women almost as brave a man as the governor himself — actually had two one-pound swivels mounted in his entry, one pointing out at the front door, and the other at the back. But the most strenuous measure resorted to on this awful occasion, and one which has since been found of wonderful efficacy, was to assemble popular meetings.- These brawling convocations, I have already shown, were extremely offensive to Peter Stuyvesant, but as this was a moment of unusual agi- tation, and as the old governor was not present to repress them, they broke out with intolerable violence. Hither, there- fore, the orators and politicians repaired, and there seemed to be a competition among them who should bawl the loudest, and exceed the others in hyperboUcal bursts of patriotism, and in resolutions to uphold and defend the Government. In these sage and all-powerful meetings, it was determined, nem. eon. , that they were the most enhghtened, the most dignified, the most formidable, and the most ancient community upon the face of the earth. Finding that this resolution was so uni- versally and readily carried, another was immediately pro- posed — whether it were not possible and poUtic to exterminate Great Britain? upon which sixty-nine members spoke most eloquently in the affirmative, and only one rose to suggest some doubts — who, as a punishment for his treasonable pre- sumption, was immediately seized by the mob, and tarred and feathered — which punishment being equivalent to the Tarpeian Eock, he was afterwards considered as an outcast from society, and his opinion went for nothing. The question, therefore, being unanimously carried in the affirmative, it was recom- 37S ^ UISTORT OF NEW-YORK. mended to the grand council to pass it into a law; which was accordingly done. — By this measure, the hearts of the people at large were wonderfully encouraged, and they waxed exceed- ing choleric and valorous. Indeed, the first paroxysm of alarm having in some measure subsided ; the old women hav- ing biu'ied all the money they could lay their hands on, and their husbands daily getting fuddled with what was left — ^the community began even to stand on the offensive. Songs were manufactured in Low Dutch, and sung about the streets, wherein the EngUsh were most woefully beaten, and shown no quarter; and popular addresses were made, wherein it was proved to a certainty that the fate of Old England depended upon the will of New-Amsterdammers. Finally, to strike a violent blow at the very vitals of Great Britain, a multitude of the wiser inhabitants assembled, and having purchased all the British manufactures they could find, they made thereof a huge bonfire ; and in the patriotic glow of the moment, every man present, who had a hat or breeches of English workmanship, pulled it o£E, and threw it most un- dauntedly into the flames— to the irreparable detriment, loss, and ruin of the English manufacturers. In commemoration of this great exploit, they erected a pole on the spot, with a de- vice on the top intended to represent the province of Nieuw- Nederlandts destroying Great Britain, under the similitude of an eagle picking the little island of Old England out of the globe ; but either through the unskilfulness of the sculptor, or his iU-timed waggery, it bore a striking resemblance to a goose vainly striving to get hold of a dumpling. CHAPTEE V. SHOwma HOW the grand council of the new-netheelands CAME TO BE MIRACULOtrSLY GIFTED WITH LONG TONGUES — TOGETHER WITH A GREAT TRIUMPH OP ECONOMY. It will need but very little penetration in any one ac- quainted with the character and habits of that most potent and blustering monarch, the sovereign people, to discover that, notwithstanding all the bustle and talk of war that stunned him in the last chapter, the renowned city of New- A HISTORY OF NEW-TOBE. 270 Amsterdam is, ia sad reality, not a whit better prepared for defence than before. Now, though the people, having gotten over the first alarm, and finding no enemy immediately at hand, had, with that valour of tongue for which your illustri- ous rabble is so famous, run into the opposite extreme, and by dint of gallant vapouring and rodomontado, had actually failked themselves into the opinion that they were the bravest and most powerful people under the sun, yet were the privy counsellors of Peter Stuyvesant somewhat dubious on that point. They dreaded moreover lest that stern hero should re- turn, and find, that instead of obeying his peremptory orders, they had wasted their time in hstening to the hectorings of the mob, than which, they well knew, there was nothing he held in more exalted contempt. To make up, therefore, as speedily as possible, for lost time, a grand divan of the counsellors and burgomasters was con- vened, to talk over the critical state of the province, and de- vise measures for its safety. Two things were unanimously agreed upon in this venerable assembly: — first, that the city required to be put in a state of defence ; and, secondly, that as the danger was imminent, there should be no time lost — which points being settled, they immediately fell to making long speeches, and belabouring one another in endless and intem- perate disputes. For about this time was this unhappy city first visited by that talking endemic, so universally prevalent in this country, and which so invariably evinces itself wher- ever a number of wise men assemble together ; breaking out in long, windy speeches, caused, as physicians suppose, by the foul air which is ever generated in a crowd. Now it was, more- over, that they first introduced the ingenious method of meas- uring the merits of a hartmgue by the hour-glass; he being considered the ablest orator who spoke longest on a question. For which excellent invention, it is recorded, we are indebted to the same profound Dutch critic who judged of books by their size. This sudden passion for endless harangues, so little con- - sonant with the customary gravity and taciturnity of our sage forefathers, was supposed, by certain learned pkdosophers, to have been imbibed, together with divers other barbarous pro- pensities, from their savage neighbours; who were peculiarly noted for their long talks and coMwct7j?res— who would never imdertako any affair of the least importance, without previous debates and harangues among their chiefs and old men. But 230 ^ HISTORY OF NEW- YORK. the ueal cause was, that the people, in electing their represent- atives to the grand council, were particular in choosing them for their talents at talking, without inquiring whether they possessed the more rare, dif&cult, and ofttinies important talent of holding their tongues. The consequence was, that this de- liberative body was composed of the most loquacious men in the community. As they considered themselves placed there to talk, every man concluded that his duty to his constituents, and, what is more, his popularity with them, required that he should harangue on every subject, whether he understood it or not. There was an ancient mode of biirying a chieftain, by every soldier throwing his shield full of earth on the corpse, xmtil a mighty mound was formed ; so, whenever a question was brought forward in. this assembly, every member pressing forward to throw on his quantum of wisdom, the subject was quickly buried under a huge mass of words. We are told, that when disciples were admitted into the school of Pythagoras, they were for two years enjoiued silence, and were neither permitted to ask questions nor make re- marks. After they had thus acquired the inestimable art of holding their tongues, they were gradually permitted to make inquiries, and finally to cormnimicate their own opim'ons. What a pity is it, that, while superstitiously hoarding up the rubbish and rags of antiquity, we should suffer these pre- cious gems to he unnoticed ! What a. beneficial effect would this wise regulation of Pythagoras have, if introduced in leg- islative bodies — and how wonderfully would it have tended to expedite business in the grand councU of the Manhattoes ! Thus, however, did dame Wisdom, (whom the wags of antiquity have humorously personified as a woman,) seem to take mischievous pleasure in jilting the venerable counsellors of New- Amsterdam. The old factions of Long Pipes and Short Pipes, which had been almost strangled by the herculean grasp of Peter Stuyvesant, now sprung up with tenfold violence. Not that the original cause of difference stiU existed, — but, it has ever been the fate of party names and party rancour to remain, long after the principles that gave rise to them have been for- gotten. To complete the public confusion and bewUderment, the fatal word Economy, which one would have thought was dead and buried with WiUiam the Testy, was once more set afloat, like the apple of discord, in the grand council of Nieuw- Nederlandts — according to which sound principle of poUcy, it was deemed more expedient to throw away twenty thousand A BISTORT -OF NEW-TORK. 281 guilders upon an inefficacious plan of defence, than thirty thousand on a good and substaintial one — the province thus making a clear saving of ten thousand guilders. But when they came to discuss the mode of defence, then be- gan a vrar of words that baffles aU description. The members being, as I observed, enhsted in opposite parties, were enabled to proceed with amazing system and regularity in the discuc- sion of the questions before them. "Whatever was proposed by a Long Pipe, was opposed by the whole tribe of Short Pipes, who, like true politicians, considered it their first duty to effect the downfall of the Long Pipes — their second, to ele- vate themselves — and their third, to consult the welfare of the country. This at least was the creed of the most upright among the party ; for as to the great mass, they left the thii'd consideration out of the question altogether. In this great collision of hard heads, it is astonishing the number of projects for defence that were struck out, not one of which had ever been heard of before, nor has been heard of since, unless it be-^n very modem days— projects that threw the windmill system of the ingenious Kieft completely in the backgroimd. StiU, however, nothing could be decided on ; for so soon as a formidable host of air castles were reared by one party, they were demoUshed by the other. The simple popu- lace stood gazing in anxious expectation of the mighty egg that was to be hatched with all this cackling ; but they gazed in vain, for it appeared that the grand council was determined to protect the province as did the noble and gigantic Pantagruel his army — by covering it with his tongue. Indeed, there was a portion of the members, consisting of fat, self-important old burghers, who smoked their pipes and said nothing, excepting to negative eveiy plan of defence that was offered. These were of that class cf wealthy old citizens, who, having amassed a fortune, button up their pockets, shut their mouths, look rich, and are good for nothing all the rest of their Uves. Like some phlegmatic oyster, which, having swallowed a pearl, closes its sheU, settles down m the rnud, and parts with its life sooner than its treasure. Every plan of defence seemed to these worthy old gentlemen pregnant with ruin. An armed force was a legion of locusts, preying upon the public property — ^to fit out a naval ai-mament, was to throw their money mto the sea — to budd fortifications was to bury it in the dirt. In short, they settled it as a sovereign maxim, so long as their pockets were full, no matter how 282 ^ BISTORT OF NEW-TORK. much they were drubbed — a kick left no scar— a broken head cured itseK — but an empty purse was of all maladies the slowest to heal, and one in which nature did nothing for the patient. Thus did this venerable assembly of sages lavish away that time which the urgency of affairs rendered invaluable, in empty brawls and long-winded speeches, without ever agree- ing, except on the point with which they started, namely, that there was no time to be lost, and delay was ruinous. At length St. Nicholas, taking compassion on their distracted situation, and anxious to preserve them from anarchy, so ordered, that in the midst of one of their most noisy debates on the subject of fortification and defence, when they had nearly fallen to loggerheads in consequence of not being able to convince each other, the question was happily settled by a messenger, who bounced into the chamber and informed them that the hostile fleet had arrived, and was actually advancing up the bay ! Thus was all farther necessity of either ftfetifying or disput- ing completely obviated, and thus was the grand council saved a world of words, and the province a world of expense— a most absolute and glorious triumph of economy 1 CHAPTER YI. m WHICH THE TEOtTBLES OP NEW-AMSTEEDAM APPEAR TO THICKEN— SHOWING THE BRAVERY, IN TIME OF PERIL, OP A PEOPLE WHO DEFEND THEMSELVES BY EESOLtTriONS. Like as an assemblage of poUtic cats, engaged in clamorous gibberings, and caterwaulings, eyeing one another with hide- ous grimaces, spitting in each other's faces, and on the point of breaking forth into a general clapper-clawing, are suddenly put to scampering rout and confusion by the startling appear- ance of a house-dog— so was the no less vociferous council of New- Amsterdam amazed, astounded, and totally dispersed by the sudden arrival of the enemy. Every member made the best of his way home, waddMng along as fast as his short legs could fag under their heavy burden, and wheezing ag he went with corpulency and terror. When he aiTived at his cactlo. A EISTOBT OF NEW-YOBK. i>83 he barricadoed tlie street door, and buried himself in the cider cellar, without daring to peep out, lest he should have his head carried ofE by a cannon-ball. The sovereign people aU crowded into the market-place, herding together with the instinct of sheep, who seek for safety in each other's company, when the shepherd and his dog are absent, and the wolf is prowUng round the fold. Far from finding relief, however, they only increased each other's terrors. Each ma.n looked ruefuUy in his neighboua-'s face, in search of encouragement, but only found in its woe-begone Uneaments a confirmation of his own dismay. Not a word now was to be heard of conquering Great Britain, not a whis- per about the sovereign virtues of economy — while the old women heightened the general gloom by clamorously bewail- ing their fate, and incessantly caUing for protection on Saint Nicholas and Peter Stuyvesant. Oh, how did they bewail the absence of the lion-hearted Peter ! — and how did they long for the comforting presence of Antony Van Oorlear! Indeed, a gloomy uncertainty hung over the fate of these adventurous heroes. Day after day had elapsed since the alarming message fi-om the governor, with- out bringing any farther tidings of his safety. Many a fearful conjecture was hazarded as to what had befallen him and his loyal 'sqtiire. Had they not been devoured ahve by the can- nibals of Marblehead and Cape Cod? — were they not put to the question by the great council of Amphyctions?— were they not smothered in onions by the terrible men of Piquag? — ^In the midst of this consternation and perplexity, when horror, like a mighty nightmare, sat brooding upon the httle fat, ple- thoric city of New- Amsterdam, the ears of the multitude were suddenly startled by a strange and distant sound — ^it ap- proached — ^it grew louder and louder — and now it resounded at the city gate. The pubMc could not be mistaken in the well- known sound — a shout of joy burst from their hps, as the gal- lant Peter, covered with dust, and followed by his faithful trumpeter, came galloping into the market-place. The first transports of the popidace having subsided, they gathered round the honest Antony, as he dismounted from his horse, overwhelming him with greetings and congratiilations. In breathless accents he related to them the marvellous adven- tures through which the old governor and himself had gone, in making their escape from the clutches of the terrible Amphyc^ tions. But though the Stuyvesant manuscript, with its cus- 284 ^ HISTORY OF NEW- TORE. tomary minuteness, where anything touching the great Peter is concerned, is very particular as to the incidents of this mas- terly retreat, yet the particular state of the puhUc affairs will not allow me to indulge in a f uU recital thereof. Let it suffice to say that while Peter Stuyvesant was anxiously revolviug in his mind how he could make good his escape with honour and dignity, certain of the ships sent out for the conquest of the Manhattoes touched at the eastern ports, to obtain needful sup- phes, and to call on the grand council of the league for its pro- mised co-operation. Upon hearing of this, the vigilant Peter, perceiving that a moment's delay were fatal, made a secret and precipitate decanjpment, though much did it grieve his lofty soul to he ohhged to turn his back even upon a nation of foes. Many hair-breadth 'scapes and divers perilous mishaps did they sustain, as they scoured, without sound of trumpet, through the fair regions of the east. Already was the country in an uproar with hostile preparation, £ind they were obliged to take a largo circuit in their iiight, lurking along through the woody mountains of the Devil's Back-bone ; from whence the valiant Peter sallied forth one day, like a Uon, and put to rout a whole legion of squatters, consisting of three generations of a prohfic family, who were already on their way to take posses- sion of some comer of the New-Netherlands. Nay, the faithful Antony had great difficulty at sundry times to prevent him, in the excess of his wrath, from descending down from the mountains, and falling, sword in hand, upon certain of the border towns, who were marshalling forth their draggletailed militia. The first movements of the governor, on reaching his dwell- ing, was to mount the roof, from whence he contemplated, with rueful aspect, the hostile squadron. This had already come to anchor in the bay, and consisted of two stout frigates, having on board, as John Josselyn, Gent., informs us, "three hundred vahant red-coats." Having taken this survey, he sat himself down, and wrote an epistle to the commander, demanding the reason of his anchoring in the harbour without obtaining previous permission so to do. This letter was couched in the most dignified and courteous terms, though I have it from undoubted authority, that his teeth were clinched, and he had a bitter sardonic grin upon his visage all the while he wrote. Having despatched his letter, the grim Peter stumped to and fro about the town, with a most war-botoken- iag countenance, his hands, thrust into his breeches pockets. A HISTORY OF NEW-YORK. 285 and whistliiig a Low Dutch psalm tune, ■which bore no small resemblance to the music of a north-east wind, when a storm is brewing. The very dogs, as they eyed him, skulked away in dismay — ^whUe all the old and ugly women of New- Amster- dam ran howhng at his heels, imploring him to save them from murder, robbery, and pitiless ravishment ! The reply of Col. Nichols, who commanded the invaders, was couched in terms of equal courtesy with the letter of the gov- ernor — declaring the right and title of his British Majesty to the province, where he affirmed the Dutch to be mere interlop- ers; and demanding that the town, forts, etc., should be forth- with rendered into his majesty's obedience and protection — promising at the same time, life, hberty, estate, and free trade, to every Dutch denizen who should readily submit to his majesty's government. Peter Stuyvesajit read over this friendly epistle with some such harmony of aspect as we may suppose a crusty farmer, who has long been fattening upon his neighbour's sod, reads the loving letter of John Stiles, that warns him of an action of ejectment. The old governor, however, was not to be taken by surprise, but thmsting the summons into his breeches pocket, he stalked three times across the room, took a pinch of snuff with great vehemence, and then loftily waving his hand, promised to send an answer the next morning. In the mean- time, he called a general council of war of his privy counsellors and burgomasters, not for the purpose of asking then' advice, for that, as has already been shown, he valued not a rush ; but to make known unto them, his sovereign determination, and require their prompt adherence. Before, however, he convened his council, he resolved upon three important points : first, never to give up the city without a httle hard fighting, for he deemed it highly derogatory to the dignity of so renowned a city to suffer itself to be captured and stripped, without receiving a few kicks into the bargam — secondly, that the majority of hte grand council was com- posed of arrant poltroons, utterly destitute of true bottom — and, thirdly, that he would not therefore suffer them to see the summons of Col. Nichols lest the easy terms it held out might induce them to clamour for a surrender. His orders being duly promulgated, it was a piteous sight to behold the late valiant burgomasters, who had demolished the whole British empire in their harangues, peeping ruefully out of their hiding-places, and then crawling cautiously forth; 286 4 HISTORY OF NBW-YORS:. dodging through narrow lanes and alleys ; starting at every Httle dog that barked, as though it had been a discharge of artillery — mistaking lamp-posts for British grenadiers, and, in the excess of their panic, metamorphosing pumps into, for- midable soldiers, levelling blunderbusses at their bosoms! Having, however, in despite of numerous perils and difficulties of the kind, arrived safe, without the loss of a single man, at the hall of assembly, they took their seats, and awaited in fear- ful sUence the arrival of the governor. In a few moments the wooden leg of the intrepid Peter was heard in regular and stout-hearted thumps upon the staircase. He entered the chamber arrayed in a fuU suit of regimentals, and carrying his trusty toledo, not girded on his thigh, but tucked under his arm. As the governor never equipped himself in this porten- tous manner, unless something of a martial nature were work- ing within his fearless pericranium, his cotoncU regarded him ruefully, as if they saw fire and sword in his iron countenance, and forgot to light their pipes in breathless suspense. The great Peter was as eloquent as he was valorous— indeed^ these two rare qualities seemed to gc hand in hand in his com- position; and, unlike most great statesmen, whose victories are only confined to the bloodless field of argument, he was always ready to enforce his hardy words by no less hardy deeds. His speeches were generally marked by a simpUcity approaching to bluntness, and by a truly categorical decision. Addressing the grand council, he touched briefly upon the perils and hardships he had sustained in escaping from his crafty foes. He next reproached the coimcil for wasting, in idle debate and party feuds, that time which should have been devoted to their country. He was particiilarly indignant at those brawlers, who, conscious of individual security, had dis- graced the councils of the province by impotent hectorings and scurrilous invectives, against a noble and powerful enemy — those cowardly curs, who were incessant in their barkings and yelpings at the Hon, while distant or asleep, but the moment he approached, were the first to skulk away. He now called oh those who had been so valiant in their threats against Great Britain, to stand forth, and support their vauntings by their actions— for it was deeds, not words, that bespoke the spirit of a nation. He proceeded to recall the golden days of former prosperity, which were only to be regained by manfully with- standing then- enemies; for the peace, he observed, which is effected by force of arms, is always more sure and durable A HISTORY OF NEW- YORK. 287 tlian that -which is patched wp by temporary accommodations. He endeavoured, moreovei', to arouse their martial fire, by re- miading them, of the time when, before the frowning walls of Fort Christina, he had led them on to victory. He strove like- wise to awaken their confidence, by assuring them of the pro- tection Oi St. Nicholas, who had hitherto maintained them in safety, amid aU the savages of the wilderness, the witches and squatters of the east, and the giants of Merry-land. Finally, he informed them of the insolent summons he had received to surrender, but concluded by swearing to defend the province as long as Heaven was on his side, and he had a wooden leg to stand upon— which noble sentence he emphasized by a tremen- dous thwack with the broadside of his sword upon the table, that totally electrified his auditors. The privy counsellors, who had long been accustomed to the governor's way, and in fact had been brought into as perfect discipUne as were ever the soldiers of the great Frederick, saw that there was no use in saying a word— so lighted their pipes and smoked away in silence like fat and discreet counsellors. But the burgomasters, being less under the governor's control, considering themselves as representatives of the sovereign people, and being naoreover inflamed with considerable import- ance and self-sufficiency, which they had acquired at those notable schools of wisdom and morality, the popular meetings, were not so easily satisfied. Mustering up fresh spirit, when they found there was some chance of escaping from their present jeopardy without the disagreeable alternative of fight- ing, they requested a copy of the summons to surrender, that they might show it to a general meeting of the people. So insolent and mutinous a request would have been enough to have roused the gorge of the tranquil Van TwiUer himself — what, then, must have been its effect upon the great Stuy- vesant, who was not only a Dutchman, a governor, and a valiant wooden-legged soldier to boot, but withal a man of the most stomachful and gunpowder disposition? He burst forth into a blaze of noble indignation,— swore not a mother's son of them shoiHd see a syllable of it — that they deserved, every one of them, to be hanged, drawn and quartered, for traitorously daring to question the infaUibiLity of government— that as to their advice or concurrence, he did not care a whiff of tobacco for either — that he had long been harassed and thwarted by their cowardly counsels ; but that they might thenceforth go home, and go to bed Uke old women ; for he was determined to 288 ^ EISTOET OF NEW-TORK. defend the colony himself, without the assistance of thorn or their adherents. So saying, he tucked his sword under his arm, cocked his hat upon his head, and girding up his loins, stumped indignantly out of the council chamber — every body making room for him as he passed. No sooner had he gone, than the busy burgomasters called a public meeting in front of the Stadt-house, where they appointed as chairman one Dofue Roerback, a mighty ginger- bread-baker in the land and formerly of the cabinet of WilKam the Testy. He was looked up to with great reverence by the populace, who considered him a man of dark knowledge, seeing he was the first that imprinted new-year cakes with the mys- terious hieroglyphics of the Cock and Breeches, and such like magical devices. This great burgomaster, who still chewed the cud of Ul-will against the valiant Stuy vesant, in consequence of having been ignominiously kicked out of his cabinet at the time of his taking the reins of government — addressed the gi'easy multi- tude in what is called a patriotic speech, in which he informed them of the courteous summons to surrender — of the gover- nor's refusal to comply therewith — of his denying the pubhc a sight of the summons, which, he had no doubt, contained conditions highly to the honour and advantage of the pro- vince. He then proceeded to speak of his excellency in high-sound- ing terms, suitable to the .lignity and grandeur' of his station, comparing him to Nero, Caligula, and those other great men of yore, who are generally quoted by popular orators on similar occasions ; assuring the people that the history of the world did not contain a despotic outrage to equal the present for atrocity, cruelty, tyranny, and bloodthirstiness — ^that it would be recorded in letters of fire, on the blood-stained tablet of history ! that ages would roll back with sudden horror when they came to view it ! that the wonab of time — (by the way, your orators and writers take strange liberties with the womb of time, though some wotdd fain have us believe that time is an old gentleman) — ^that the womb of time, pregnant as it was with direful horrors, woidd never produce a parallel enormity ! — With a variety of other heart-rending, soul-stirring tropes and figures, which I cannot enumerate— neither, indeed, need I, for they were exactly the same that are used in all popular harangues and patriotic orations at the present day, and may be classed in rhetoric under the general title of Rigmaeole A mSTORY OF NEW- TORE. 2QQ The speech of this inspired burgomaster being finished, the meeting fell into a kind of popular fermentation, which pro- duced not only a string of right wise resolutions, but likewise a most resolute memorial, addressed to the governor, remon- strating at his conduct — which was no sooner handed to him, than he handed it into the fire ; and thus deprived posterity of an invaluable document, that might have served as a pre- cedent to the enlightened cobblers and tailors of the present day, in their sage intermeddhngs with politics. CHAPTER Vn. COKTAtNlNG A DOLEFUL DISASTER OF ANTONY TEE TRUMPETER —AND HOW PETER STUYVESANT, LIKE A SECOND CROMWELL, SUDDENLY DISSOLVED A RUMP PARLIAMENT. Now did the high-minded Pieter de Groodt shower down a pannier-load of benedictions upon his burgomasters, for a set of self-willed, obstinate, headstrong varlets, who would neither be convinced nor persuaded; and determined thenceforth to have nothing more to do with them, but to consult merely the opinion of his privy counsellors, which he knew from expe- rience to be the best in the world — inasmuch as it never differed from his own. Nor did he omit, now that his hand was in, to bestow some thousand left-handed comphments upon the sovereign people ; whom he railed at for a herd of poltroons, who had no relish for the glorious hardships and illustrious misadventures of battle— ^but would rather stay at home, and eat and sleep in ignoble ease, than gain immortahty and a broken head by vahantly fighting in a ditch. Resolutely bent, however, upon defending his beloved city, in despite even of itself, he called unto him his trusty Van Corlear, who was his right-hand man in all times of emer- gency. Him did he adjure to take his war-denouncing trumpet, and mounting his horse, to beat up the country, night and day. Sounding the alarm along the pastoral bor- ders of the Bronx — starting the wild sohtudes of Croton — arousing the rugged yeomanry of Weehawk and Hoboeken — the mighty men of battle of Tappan Bay * — ^and the brave boys * A corruption of Top-paun; so called from a tribe of Indians which boasted a hundred and fifty fighting men. See Ogilby's History. 290 ^ mSTORT OF NEW- YORK. of Tarry Town and Sleepy Hollow — ^together with all the other warriors of the country round about ; charging them one and all to sling their powder-horns, shoulder their fowling-pieces, and march merrily down to the Manhattoes. Now there was nothing in all the world, the divine sex ex- cepted, that Antony Van Corlear loved better than errands of this kind. So, just stopping to take a lusty dinner, and brac- ing to his side his junk bottle, well charged with heart-inspir- ing Hollands, he issued jollUy from the city gate, that looked out upon what is at present called Broadway; sounding as usual a farewell strain, that rung in sprightly echoes through the windiag streets of New- Amsterdam. —Alas ! never more were they to be gladdened by the melody of their favourite trumpeter ! It was a dark and stormy night, when the good Antony ar- rived at the famous creek (sagoly denominated Haerlom river) which separates the island of Manna-hata from the main land. The wind was high, the elements were in an uproar, and no Charon could be f oimd to ferry the adventurous sounder of brass across the water. For a short time he vapoured like an impatient ghost upon the brink, and then, bethinking himself of the urgency of his errand, took a hearty embrace of his stone bottle, swore most valorously that he would swim across, en spijt den Duyvel, (in spite of the devil!) and daringly plunged into the stream. Luckless Antony 1 scarce had he buffeted half-way over, when he was observed to struggle vio- lently, as if battling with the spirit of the waters — ^instinctively he put his trumpet to his mouth, and giving a vehement blast simk. for ever to the bottom ! The potent clangour ol: his trumpet, like the ivory horn of the renowned Paladin Orlando, when expiring on the glorious field of Eoncesvalles, rung far and wide through the country, alarming the neighbom^ round, who hurried in amazement to the spot. Here an old Dutch bm-gher, famed for his veracity, and who had been' a witness of the fact, related to them the melancholy affair; with the fearful addition (to which I am slow of giving behef) that he saw the duyvel, in the shape of a huge moss-bonker, seize the sturdy Antony by the leg, and drag him beneath the waves. Certain it is, the place, with the adjoining promontory, which projects into the Hudson, has been called Spijt den duyvel, or Spiking Devil, over since ; — ^tho restless ghost of the unfortunate Antony still haunts the sur- rounding solitudes, and his trumpet has often been heard by A UISrORY OF NEW-YOBK. 291 she neighbours, of a stormy night, mingling with the howling of the blast. Nobody ever attempts to' swim over the creek, after dark ; on the contrary, a bridge has been buHt, to guard against such melancholy accidents in future — and as to moss- oonkers, they are held in such abhorrence, that no true Dutch- man will admit them to his table, who loves good fish and hates the devH. Such was the end of Antony Van Corlear — ^a man deserving of a better fate. Ho hved roundly and soundly, like a true and jolly bachelor, until the day of his death ; but though he was never married, yet did he leave behind some two or three dozen children, in different parts of the country— fine, chubby, brawling, flatulent Uttle urchins, from whom, if legends speak true, (and they are not apt to he,) did descend the innumerable race of editors who people and defend this country, and who are bountifully paid by the people for keeping up a constant alarm — and making them miserable. Would that they in- herited the worth, as they do the wind, of their renowned pro- genitor ! The tidings of this lamentable catastrophe imparted a severer pang to the bosom of Peter Stuyvesant than did even the inva- sion of his beloved Amsterdam. It came ruthlessly home to those sweet affections that grow close around the heart, and are nourished by its warmest current. As some lorn pilgrim, while the tempest whistles through his locks, and dreary night is gathering aroim.d, sees stretched, cold and hf eless, his faith- ful dog — the sole companion of his journeying, who had shared his solitary meal, and so often hcked his hand in humble grati- tude — so did the generous-hearted hero of the Manhattoes con- template the untimely end of his faithful Antony. He had been the hiunble attendant of his footsteps— he had cheered hiTTT in many a heavy hour by his honest gayety, and had fol- lowed hiTn in loyalty and affection through many a scene of direful peril and mishap ; he was gone for ever — ^and that, too, at a moment when every mongrel cur seemed skulking from his side. This — ^Peter Stuyvesant— this was the moment to try thy fortitude ; and this was the moment when thou didst in- deed shine forth — Peter the Headstrong! The glare of day had long dispelled the horrors of the last stormy night; still all was dull and gloomy. The late, jovial .^.poUo hid his face behind lugubrious clouds, peeping out now and then, for an instant, as i£ anxious, yet fearful, to see what was going oh in his favourite city. This was the eventful 292 ^ BISTORT OF NEW-TORK. morning when the great Peter was to give his reply to the summons of the invaders. Ah:eady was he closeted with his privy council, sitting in grim state, brooding over the fate of his favourite trumpeter, and anon boihng with indignation as the insolence of his recreant burgomasters flashed upon Ms mind. While in this state of irritation, a coiirier arrived in aU haste from Winthrop, the subtle governor of Connecticut, counselling him in the most affectionate and disinterested manner to surrender the province, and magnifying the dan- gers and calamities to which a refusal would subject him. What a moment was this to intrude oflScious advice upon a man who never took advice in his whole life!— The fiery old governor strode up and down the chamber, with a vehe- mence that made the bosoms of his counsellors to quake with awe— raiUng at his unlucky fate, that thus made him the con- stant butt of factious subjects and Jesuitical advisers. Just at this O-chosen juncture, the officious burgomasters, who were now completely on the watch, and had heard of the arrival of mysterious despatches, came marcliing in a resolute body into the room, with a legion of schepens and toad-eaters at their heels, and abruptly demanded a perusal of the letter. Thus to be broken in upon by what he esteemed a "rascal rab- ble," and that, too, at the very moment he was grinding under an irritation from abroad, was too much for the spleen of the choleric Peter. He tore the letter in a thousand pieces *— threw it in the face of the nearest burgomaster — ^broke his pipe over the head of the next — ^hurled his spitting-box at an unlucky schepen, who was just making a masterly retreat out at the door, and finally prorogued the whole meeting sine die, by kicking them down-stairs with his wooden leg. As soon as the burgomasters could recover from the con- fusion into which their sudden exit had thrown them, and had taken a httle time to breathe, they protested against the con- duct of the governor, which they did not hesitate to pronounce tyrannical, unconstitutional, highly indecent, and somewhat disrespectful. They then called a pubhc meeting, where they read the protest, and addressing the assem.bly in a set speech, related at full length, and with appropriate colouring and ex- aggeration, the despotic and vindictive deportment of the governor; declaring that, for their own parts, they did not value a straw the being kicked, cuffed, and mauled by the * Smith's History of New York. ' A msrORT OF NEW-TOIiK. 293 timber toe of his excellency, but they felt for the dignity of the sovereign people, thus rudely insulted by the outrage com- mitted on the seat of honoiir of their representatives. The latter part of the harangue had a violent effect upon the sensi- bility of the people, as it came home at once to that dehcacy of feeling and jealous pride of character, vested in aU true mobs ; who, though they may bear injuries without a murmur, yet are marvellously jealous of their sovereign dignity— and there is no knowing to what act of resentment they might have been provoked against the redoubtable Peter, had • not the greasy rogues been somewhat more afraid of their sturdy old governor, than they were of St. Nicholas, the English— or the Jj ^1 himself. CHAPTER Vni. r HOW PETER STTTSrVBSANT DEFENDED THE OITY OF NEW AMSTER- DAM, FOR SEVERAL DAYS, BY DINT OF THE STRENGTH OF HIS HEAD. There is something exceedingly sublime and melancholy in the spectacle which the present crisis of our history presents. An illustrious and venerable little city — ^the metropolis of an inunense extent of uninhabited country — garrisoned by a doughty host of orators, chairmen, committee-men, burgo- masters, schepens, and old women — ^governed by a determined and strong-headed warrior, and fortified by mud batteries, palisadoes, and resolutions— blockaded by sea, beleaguered by land, and threatened with direful desolation from without; while its very vitals are torn with internal faction and com- motion ! Never did historic pen record a page of more compli- cated distress, unless it be the strife that distracted the Israehtes during the siege of Jerusalem — ^where discordant parties were cutting each other's throats, at the moment when the victorious legions of Titus had toppled down their bul- warks, and were carrying fire and sword into the very sanctum sanctorum of the temple. Governor Stuyvesant, having triumphantly, as has been recorded, put his grand council to the rout, and thus delivered himself from a multitude of impertinent advisers, despatched a categorical reply to the commanders of the invading squad- 294 -4 BISTORT OF JVEW-rOBK. ron; wherein he asserted the right and title of their High Mightinesses, the Lord States General to the province of New- Netherlands, and, trusting in the righteousness of his cause, set the whole British nation at defiance ! My anxiety to ex-. tricate my readers and myself from these disastrous scenes, prevents me from giving the whole of this gallant letter, which concluded in these manly and afiEectionate terms : " As touching the threats in your conclusion, we have noth- ing to answer, only that we fear nothing but what God (who ia as just as merciful) shall lay upon us ; all things being in Hi a gracious disposal, and we may as well be preserved by him with small forces, as by a great army ; which makes us to wish you all happiness and prosperity, and recommend you to his protection. — My lords, your thrice humble and affectionate servant and friend, P. Stutvesant." Thus having resolutely thrown his gauntlet, the brave Peter stuck a pair of horse-pistols in his belt, girded an immense powder-horn on his side — thrust a sound leg into a Hessian boot, and clapping his fierce little war hat on the top of his head— paraded up and down in front of his house, determined to defend his beloved city to the last. "While all these woful struggles and dissensions were prevail- ing in the unhappy city of New-Amsterdam, and while its worthy, but iU-starred governor was framing the above-quoted letter, the EngUsh commanders did not remain idle. They had agents secretly employed to foment the fears and clamours of the populace; and moreover cii-culated far and wide, through the adjacent country, a proclamation, repeating the terms they had already held out in their summons to sur- render, and beguihng the simple Nederlanders with the most crafty and concUiating professions. They promised that every man who voluntarily submitted to the authority of his British Majesty, shoiild retain peaceable possession of his house, his vrouw, and his cabbage-garden. That he should be sufEered to smoke his pipe, speak Dutch, wear as many breeches as he pleased, and import bricks, tiles, and stone jugs from Holland, instead of manufacturing them on the spot. That he should on no account be compelled to learn the English language, or keep accounts in any other way than by casting them upon his fingers, and chalking them down upon the crown of his hat ; as is still observed among the Dutch yeomanry at the present day. That every man should be allowed quietly to inherit his A HISTORY OF NEW- YORK. 295 father's hat, coat, shoe-buckles, pipe, and every other personal appendage, and that no man should be obliged to conform to any improvements, inventions, or any other mo^^em innova- tions; but, on the contrary, should be permitted to bxiild his house, fqllow his trade, manage his farm, rear his hogs, and educate his children, precisely as his ancestors did'bcfore him since time immemorial. Finally, that he should have aU the benefits of free trade, and should not be required to acknow- ledge any other saint in the calendar than St. Nicholas, who should thenceforward, as before, be considered the tutelar saint of the city. These terms, as may be supposed, appeared very satisfactory to the people, who had a great disposition to enjoy their prop- erty immolested, and a most singular aversion to engage in a contest where they could gain httle more than honoiir and broken heads— the first of which they held in philosophic indifference, the latter in utter detestation. By these insidious means, therefore, did the Enghsh succeed in alienating the confidence and affections of the populace from their gallant old governor, whom they considered as obstinately bent upon running them into hideous misadventures ; and did not hesi- tate to speak their minds freely, and abuse hiTn most heartily— behind his back. like as a mighty grampus, who, though assailed and buffeted by roaring waves and brawling surges, stiU keeps on an imdeviating course ; and though overwhelmed by boisterous billows, still emerges from the troubled deep, spouting and blowing with tenfold violence — so did the inflexible Peter pursue, unwavering, his determined career, and rise, con- temptuous, above the clamours of the rabble. But when the British warriors found, by the tenor of his reply, that he set their power at defiance, they forthwith despatched recruiting officers to Jamaica, and Jericho, and Nineveh, and Quag, and Patchog, and all those towns on Long Island which had been subdued of yore by the immortal Stoffel Brinkerhoff , stirring up the vaUant progeny of Preserved Fish, and Determined Cock, and those other illustrious squat- ters, to assail the city of New- Amsterdam by land. In the meanwhile, the hostile ships made awful preparation to com- mence an assault by water. The streets of New-Amsterdam now presented a scene of wild dismay and consternation. In vain did the gallant Stuy- Tesant order the citizens to arm, and assemble in the public 296 -4 msTORT OF NEW-TORK. Bquare or market-place. The whole party of Short Pipes in the course of a single night had changed iato arrant old women — a metamorphosis only to be paralleled by the prodigies re- corded by Livy as having happened at Eome on the approach of Hannibal, when statues sweated in pure affright, goats were converted into sheep, and cocks turning into hens ran cackling about the streets. The harassed Peter, thus menaced from without, and tor- mented from within — baited by the burgomasters, and hooted at by the rabble, chafed and growled and raged like a furious bear, tied to a stake and worried by a legion of scoundrel curs. Finding, however, that all fiuther attempts to defend the city were vain, and hearing that an irruption of borderers and mosstroopers was ready to deluge him from the east, he was at length compelled, in spite of his proud heart, which swelled in his throat until it had nearly choked him, to consent to a treaty of surrender. Words cannot express the transports of the people, on re- ceiving this agreeable intelligence; had they obtained a con- quest over their enemies, they could not have indulged greater dehght. The streets, resounded with their congratulations — they extolled their governor, as the father and deUverer of his country — they crowded to his house to testify their gratitude, and were ten times more noisy in their plaudits, than when he returned, with victory perched upon his beaver, from the glorious capture of Fort Christina. But the indignant Peter shut his doors and windows, and took refuge in the innermost recesses of his mansion, that he might not hear the ignoble re- joicings of the rabble. In consequence of this consent of the governor, a parley was demanded of the besieging forces to treat of the terms of svurender. Accordingly, a deputation of six commissioners was appointed on both sides ; and on the 27th August, 1664, a capitulation highly favourable to the province, and honour- able to Peter Stuyvesant, was agreed to by the enemy, who had conceived a high opinion of the valour of the Manhattoes, and the magnanimity and unbounded discretion of their gov- ernor. One thing alone remained, which was, that the articles of surrender should be ratified, and signed by the governor. When the comrnissioners respectfully waited upon him for this purpose, they were received by the hardy old warrior wiuh the most grim and bitter courtesy. His warlike accoutre- A HISTORY OF NEW-YORK. 297 ments were laid aside — an old India night-gown was wrapped about his rugged .limbs, a red night-cap overshadowed his frowning brow, and an iron gray bread, of three days' growth, gave additional grimness to his visage. Thrice did he seize a Uttle worn-out stump of a pen, and essay to sign the loath- some paper — thrice did he clinch his teeth, and make a most horrible countenance, as though a pestiferous dose of rhubarb, senna, and ipecacuanha, had been offered to his lips ; at length, dashing it fi-om him, he seized his brass-hilted sword, and jerking it from the scabbard, swore by St. Nicholas, he'd sooner die than yield to any power under heaven. In vain was every attempt to shake this sturdy resolution — menaces, remonstrances, revilings, were exhausted to no pur- pose — for two whole days was the house of the valiant Peter besieged by the clamorous rabble, and for two whole days did he betake himself to his arms, and persist in a magnanimous refusal to ratify the capitulation. At length the populace, finding that boisterous measures did but incense more determined opposition, bethought themselves of an humble expedient, by which, happily, the governor's ire might be soothed, and his resolution undermined. And now a solemn and mournful procession, headed by the burgomasters and schepens, and followed by the populace, moves slowly to the governor's dwelling, bearing the capitulation. Here they found the stout old hero, drawn up like a giant in his castle, the doors strongly barricadoed, and himself in full regimentals, with his cocked hat on his head, firmly posted with a blunder- buss at the garret-window. There was something in this formidable position that struck even the ignoble vulgar with awe and admiration. The braw- ling midtitude coidd not but reflect with self-abasement upon their own pusiUanimous conduct, when they beheld their hardy but deserted old governor, thus faithful to his post, like a forlorn hope, and fiiUy prepared to defend his imgrateful city to the last. These compunctions, however, were soon over- whelmed by the recurring tide of pubhc apprehension. The populace arranged themselves before the house, taking off their hats with most respectful humility. — Burgomaster Eoer- back, who was of that popular class of orators described by Sallust as being "talkative rather than eloquent," stepped forth and addressed the governor in a speech of three houi-s' length; detailing in the most pathetic terms the calamitous situation of the province, and urging him in a constant repe- 298 ^ HISTORY OF NEW- YORK. tition of the same arguments and words to sign the capitula- tion. The mighty Peter eyed him from his httle garret-window in grim silence — iiow and then his eye would glance over the sur- rounding rabble, and an indignant grin, hke that of an angry mastiff, would mark his iron viseige. But though he was a man of most undaimted mettle — though he had a heart as big as an ox, and a head that would have set adamant to scorn — ^yet after all he was a mere mortal : — ^wearied out by these repeated oppositions and this eternal haranguing, and perceiving that unless he complied, the inhabitants would follow their own in- clinations, or rather their fears, without waiting for his con- sent, he testily ordered them to hand up the paper. It was accordingly hoisted to him on the end of a pole, and having scrawled his name at the bottom of it, he anathematized them all for a set of cowardly, mutinous, degenerate poltroons — threw the capitulation at their heads, slammed down the window, and was heard stumping down stairs with the most vehement indignation. The rabble incontinently took to their heels ; even the burgomasters were not slow in evacuating the premises, fearing lest the sturdy Peter might issue from his den, and greet them with some unwelcome testimonial of his displeasure. Within three hours after the suiTender, a legion of British beef -fed warriors poured into New- Amsterdam, taldng posses- sion of the fort and batteries. And now might be heard from aU quarters the soimd of hammers, made by the old Dutch burghers, who were busily employed in nailing up their doors and windows, to protect their vrouws from these fierce bar- barians, whom they contemplated in silent suUenness from the garret-windows, as they paraded through the streets. Thus did Col. Eichard Nichols, the commander of the British forces, enter into quiet possession of the conquered realm, as locum tenens for the Duke of York. The victory was at- tended with no other outrage than that of changing the name of the province and its metropolis, which thenceforth were denomiaated New- York, and so have continued to be called unto the present day. The inhabitants, according to treaty, were allowed to maintain quiet possession of their property ; but so inveterately did they retain their abhorrence of the British nation, that in a private meeting of the leading citi- zens, it was unanimously determined never to ask any of their conquerors to dinner. A HISTORY OF A'EW-YOUE. 299 CHAPTER IX. CONTAININa THE DIGNIFIED RETIREMENT AND MORTAL SURRENDER OF PETER THE HEADSTRONG. Thus, then, have I concluded this great historical enterprise ; but before I lay aside my weary pen, there yet remains to be performed one pious duty. If, among the variety of readei-s that may peruse this book, there should haply be found any of those souls of true nobility, which glow with celestial fire at the history of the generous and the brave, they wiU doubtless be anxious to know the fate of the gallant Peter Stuyvesant. To gratify one such sterhng heart of gold, I would go more lengths than to instruct the cold-blooded curiosity of a whole fraternity of philosophers. No sooner had that high-mettled cavalier signed the articles of capitulation, than, determined not to witness the humilia- tion of his favotirite city, he turned his back on its walls, and made a growling retreat to his Bouwery, or country-seat, which was situated about two miles off; where he passed the re- mainder of his days in patriarchal retirement. There he enjoyed that tranquilhty of mind which he had never known amid the distracting cares of government; and tasted the sweets of absolute and uncontrolled authority, which his fac- tious subjects had so often dashed with the bitterness of opposition. No persuasions could ever induce him to revisit the city — on the contrary, he would always have his great arm-chair placed with its back to the windows which looked in that direction ; imtil a thick grove of trees, planted by his own hand, grew up and formed a screen that effectually excluded it from the prospect. He railed continually at the degenerate innovations and improvements introduced by the conquerors — forbade a word of their detested language to be spoken in his family— a prohibition readily obeyed, since none of the household could speak anything but Dutch— and even ordered a fine avenue to be cut down in front of his house, because it consisted of Eng- lish cherry-trees. The same incessant vigilance that blazed forth when he had a vast province under his care now showed itself with equal vigour, though in narrower Umits. He patrolled with unceas- 300 -A mSTORT OP NEW-YORK. ing watchfulness around the boundaries of his Mttle territory ; repelled every encroachment with intrepid promptness; pun- ished every vagrant depredation upon his orchard or his farm- yard with inflexible severity — and conducted every stray hog or cow in triumph to the pound. But to the indigent neigh- bour, the friendless stranger, or the weary wanderer, his spacious doors were ever open, and his capacious fire-place, that emblem of his own warm and generous heart, had always a corner to receive and cherish them. There was an exception to this, I must confess, in case the ill-starred applicant was an Englishman or a Yankee, to whom, though he might extend the hand of assistance, he never could be brought to yield the rites of hospitality. Nay, if peradventure some straggling merchant of the east should stop at his door, with his cart-load of tin- ware or wooden bowls, the fiery Peter would issue forth Uke a giant from his castle, and make such a furious clatter- ing among his pots and kettles that the vender of ^'notions''' was fain to betake himself to instant flight. TTiR handsome suit of regimentals, worn threadbaxe by the brush, was carefully hung up in the state bed-chamber, and regularly aired on the first fair day of every month — ^and his cocked hat and trusty sword were suspended in grim repose over the parlour mantel-piece, forming supporters to a full- length portrait of the renowned Admiral Van Tromp. In his domestic empire he maintained strict discipline, and a weU- organized, despotic government ; but, though his own will was the supreme law, yet the good of his subjects was his constant object. He watched over, not merely their immediate com- forts, but their morals and their ultimate welfare ; for he gave them abundance of excellent admonition, nor coiild any of them complain, that, when occasion required, he was by any means niggardly in bestowing wholesome correction. The good old Dutch festivals, those periodical demonstrations of an overflowing heart and a thankful spirit, which are fall- ing into sad disuse among my fellow-citizens, were faithfully observed in the mansion of Governor Stuyvesant. New-year was truly a day of open-handed hberality, of jocund revelry, and warm-hearted congratulation— when the bosom seemed to swell with genial good-fellowship — and the plenteous table was attended with an vmceremonious freedom, and honest, broad-mouthed merrimeiit, vmknown in these days of degen- eracy and refinement. Pas and Pinxter were scrupulously observed throughout his dominions; nor was the day of St. A HISTORY OF NEW-TORE. 301 Nicholas suffered to pass by without making presents, hang- ing the stockiag in the chimney, and complying with all its other ceremonies. Once a year, on the first day of AprU, he used to array him- self in full regimentals, being the anniversary of his triiunphal entry into New- Amsterdam, after the conquest of New-Sweden. . This was always a Mnd of saturnalia among the domestics, when they considered themselves at liberty, in some measure, to say and do what they pleased ; for on this day their master was always observed to unbend, and become exceeding pleas- ant and jocose, sending the old gray -headed negroes on April fool's errands for pigeon's milk ; not one of whom but allowed himself to be taken in, and humoured his old master's jokes, as became a faithful and weU-disciphned dependant. Thus did he reign, happily and peacefiiUy, on his own land— injur- ing no man— envying no man — molested by no outward strifes — perplexed by no internal commotions ; and the mighty mon- archs of the earth, who were vainly seeking to maintain peace, and promote the welfare of mankind, by war and desolation, would have done well to have made a voyage to the httle island of Manna-hata, and learned a lesson in government from the domestic economy of Peter Stuyvesant. In process of tune, however, the old governor, like all other children of mortality, began to exhibit tokens of decay. Like an aged oak, which, though it long has braved the fury of the elements, and stiU retaiiis its gigantic proportions, yet begins to shake and groan" with every blast— so was it with the gal- lant Peter; for, though he stiU bore the port and semblance of what he was in the days of his hardihood and chivalry, yet did age and infirmity begin to sap the vigom- of his frame- but his heart, that most imconquerable citadel, stiU triumphed unsubdued. With matchless avidity would he listen to every article of inteUigence concerning the battles between the EngUsh and Dutch — stiU woiild his pulse beat high, whenever he heard of the victories of De Ruyter — aad his countenance lower, and his eyebrows knit, when fortune turned in favour of the English. At length, as on a certain day he had just smoked his fifth pipe, and was napping after dinner in his arm-chair, conquering the whole British nation in his dreams, he was suddenly aroused by a fearful ringing of beUs, rattling of drums, and roaring of cannon, that put all his blood in a ferment. But when he learnt that these rejoicings were in honour of a great victory obtained by the combined English 302 ^ HISTORY OF NEW- YORK. and French fleets over the brave De Ruyter and the younger Van Tromp, it went so much to his heart, that he took to his bed, and, in. less than three days, was brought to death's door by a violent cholera morbus ! But, even in this extremity, he stiU displayed the imconquerable spirit of Peter the Head- strong; holding out, to the last gasp, with the most inflexible obstinacy, against a whole army of old women, who were bent upon driving the enemy out of his bowels, after a true Dutch mode of defence, by inundating the seat of war with catnip and pennyroyal. While he thus lay, lingering on the verge of dissolution, news was brought him that the brave De Ruyter had suffered but Mttle loss — had made good his retreat — and meant once more to meet the enemy in battle. The closing eye of the old warrior kindled at the words — he partly raised himself in bed — a flash of martial fire beamed across his visage— he clenched his withered hand, as if he felt within his gripe that sword which waved ia triumph before the walls of Fort Christina, and, giving a grim smile of exultation, sunk back upon his pOlow and expired. Thus died Peter Stuyvesant, a valiant soldier — a loyal sub- ject — an upright governor, and an honest Dutchman — ^who wanted only a few empires to desolate to have been immortal- ized as a hero. His funeral obsequies were celebrated with the utmost gran- deur and solemnity. The town was perfectly emptied of .its inhabitants, who crowded in throngs to pay the last sad hon- ours to their good old governor. All his sterling qualities rushed in full tide upon their recollections, whQe the memory of bis foibles and his faults had expired with him. The ancient burghers contended who should have the privilege of beaiing the pall; the populace strove who should walk nearest to the bier — and the melancholy procession was closed by a number of gray -headed negroes, who had wintered and summered in the household of their departed master, for the greater part of a century. With sad and gloomy countenances the multitude gathered around the grave. They dwelt with mournful hearts on the sturdy virtues, the signal services, and the gallant exploits of the brave old worthy. They recalled, with secret upbraidings, their own factious opposition to his government — ^andTnany an ancient burgher, whose phlegmatic features had never been known to relax, nor his eyes to moisten, was now observed to A BISTORT OP NEW-TOEK. 303 pufE a pensive pipe, and the big drop to steal down his cheek — while he muttered, with affectionate accent, and melancholy shake of the head — "Well den! — Hardkoppig Peter ben gone at last!" His remains were deposited in the family vault, under a chapel, which he had piously erected on his estate, and dedicated to St. Nicholas — and which stood on the identical spot at present occupied by St. Mark's Church, where his tomb-stone is still to be seen. His estate, or Bouwery, as it was called, has ever con- tinued in the possession of his descendants, who, by the uni- form integrity of their conduct and their strict adherence lo the customs and manners that prevailed in the "good old times," have proved themselves worthy of their illustrious an- cestor. Many a time and oft has the farm been haunted, at night, by enterprising money-diggers, in quest of pots of gold, said to have been buried by the old governor — ^though I cannot learn that any of them have ever been enriched by their re- searches : and who is there, among my native-bom f eUow-citi- zens, that does not remember, when, in the mischievous days of his boyhood, he conceived it a great exploit to rob " Stuyve- sant's orchard " on a holyday afternoon? At this strong-hold of the family may stiU be seen certain memorials of the immortal Peter. His full-length portrait frowns in martial terrors from the parlour wall — his cocked hat and sword stall hang up in the best bed-room — his brim- stone-coloured breeches were for a long while suspended in the hall, until some years since they occasioned a dispute between a new married couple -and his silver-mounted wooden leg is still treasured up in the store-room as an invaluable rehc. CHAPTEE X. THE AUTHOE'S reflections UPON WHAT HAS BEEN SAID. Among the numerous events, which are each in their turn the most direful and melancholy of all possible occurrences, in your interesting and authentic history, there is none that occasion such deep and heart-rending grief as the decline and fall of your renowned and mighty empires. "Where is the reader who can contemplate, without emotion, the disastrous 304 ^ HISTORY OF IfEW-YOJiK. events by which the great dynasties of the world have been extinguished? While wandering, in imagination, among the gigantic ruins of states and empires, and marking the tremen- dous convulsions that wrought their overthrow, the bosom of the melancholy inquirer swells with sympathy commensurate to the surrounding desolation. Kingdoms, principalities, and powers, have each had their rise, their progress, and their downfall — each in its turn has swayed a potent sceptre — each has returned to its primeval nothingness. And thus did it fare with the empire of their High Mightinesses, at the Manhattoes, under the peaceful reign of Walter the Doubter — ^the fretful reign of WUliam the Testy — and the chivalric reign of Peter the Headstrong. Its history is fruitful instruction, and worthy of being pon- dered over attentively; for it is by thus raking among the ashes of departed greatness, that the sparks of true knowledge are found, and the lamp of wisdom illumined. Let, then, the reign of Walter the Doubter warn agaiast yielding to that sleek, contented security, that overweening fondness for com- fort and repose, that are produced by a state of prosperity and peace. These tend to unnerve a nation ; to destroy its pride of character; to render it patient of insult, deaf to the calls of honour and of justice ; and cause it to chng to peace, like the ■ sluggard to his piUow, at the expense of every valuable duty and consideration. Such supineness insures the very evil from which it shrinks. One right, yielded up, produces the usurpa- tion of a second ; one encroachment, passively suffered, makes way for another ; and the nation that thus, through a doting love of peace, has sacrificed honour and interest, will at lengtl^ have to fight for existence. Let the disastrous reign of WiUiam the Testy serve as a salu- tary warning against that fitful, feverish mode of legislation that acts without system ; depends on shifts and projects, and trusts to lucky contingencies ; that hesitates, and wavers, and at length decides with the rashness of ignorance and imbecil- ity ; that stoops for popiilarity, by courting the prejudices and flattering the arrogance, rather than commanding the respect, of the rabble ; that seeks safety in a multitude of counsellors, and distracts itself by a variety of contradictory schemes and opinions; that mistakes procrastination for deliberate wari- ness — ^hurry for decision — starvehng parsimony for wholesome economy— bustle for business, and vapouring for valour: that is violent in covmcil, sanguine in expectation, precipitate in A HISTOET OF NEW- TORE. 305 action, and feeble in execution; that undertakes enterprises without forethought, enters upon them without preparation, conducts them without energy, and ends them ia confusion and defeat. Let the reign of the good Stuyresant show the effects of vigour and decision, even when destitute of cool judgment, and sur- rounded by perplexities. Let it show how frankness, probity, and high-soiJ.ed courage will command respect and secure hon- our, even where success is unattainable. But, at the same time, let it caution against a too ready reliance on the good faith of others, and a too honest confidence in the loving pro- fessions of powerful neighbours, who are most friendly when they most mean to betray. Let it teach a judicious attention to the opinions and wishes of the many, who, in times of peril, must be soothed and led, or apprehension wiQ overpower the deference to authority. Let the empty wordiness of his factious subjects; their intemperate harangues; their violent "resolu- tions;" their hectorings against an absent enemy, and their pusillanimity on his approach, teach us to distrust and despise those clamorous patriots whose courage dwells but in the tongue. Let them serve as a lesson to repress that insolence of speech, destitute of real force, which too often breaks forth in popiilar bodies, and bespeaks the vanity rather than the spirit of a nation. Let them caution us against vaunting too much of our own power and prowess, and reviling a noble enemy. True gallantry of soul would always lead us to treat a foe with courtesy and proud punctQio ; a contrary conduct but takes from the merit of victory, and renders defeat doubly disgraceful. But I cease to dwell on the stores of excellent examples to be drawn from the ancient chronicles of the Manhattoes. He who reads attentively wiU discover the threads of gold which run throughout the web of history, and are invisible to the duU eye of ignorance. But, before I conclude, let me point out a solemn warning, furnished in the subtle chain of events by which the capture of Fort Casimir has produced the present convulsions of our globe. Attend, then,. gentle reader, to this plain deduction, which, if thou art a king, an emperor, or other powerful potentate, I advise thee to treasure up in thy heart^though Uttle expecta- tion have I that my work will faU into such hands, for well I know the care of crafty ministers to keep all grave and edi- fying books of the kind out of the way of unhappy monarchs r-lest peradventure they should read them and learn wisdom. 306 ^ MISTORY OF NEW-YORK. By the treacherous surprisal of Fort Casimir, then, did the crafty Swedes enjoy a transient triumph ; hut drew upon their heads the vengeance of Peter Stuyvesant, who -wrested all New-Sweden from their hands. By the conquest of New-Swe- den, Peter Stuyvesant aroused the claims of Lord Baltimore ; ■who appealed to the Cahinet of Great Britain; who suhdued the whole province of New-Netherlands. By this great achieve- ment, the whole extent of North America, from Nova Scotia to the Floridas, was rendered one entire dependency upon the British crown — ^but mark the consequence : — The hitherto scat- tered colonies being thus consolidated, and having no rival colonies to check or keep them in awe, "waxed great and power- fid, and finally becoming too strong for the mother country, were enabled to shake off its bonds, and by a glorious revolu- tion became an independent empire. But the chain of efforts stopped not here; the successful revolution in America pro- duced the sanguinary revolution in France, which produced the puissant Buonaparte, who produced the French despotism, which has thrown the whole world in confusion ! — Thus have these great powers been successsivly punished for their ill- starred conquests— and thus, as I asserted, have all the pres- entconvulsions, revolutions, and disasters that overwhelm mankind, originated in the capture of the little Fort Casimir, as recorded in this eventful history. And now, worthy reader, ere I take a sad farewell — which, alas ! must be for ever — willingly would I part in cordial fellow- ship, and bespeak thy kind-hearted remembrance. That I have not written a better history of the days of the patriarchs, is not my fault— had any other person written one as good, I should not have attempted it at all. That many will hereafter spring up and surpass me in excellence, I have very little doubt, and still less care ; weU knowing, when the great Christo- vallo Colon (who is wilgarly called Columbus) had once stood his egg upon its end, every one at the table could stand his up a thousand times more dexterously. Should any reader find matter of offence in this history, I should heartily grieve, though I woidd on no accoimt question his penetration by tell- ing bim he is mistaken — his good nature, by telling him he is captious— or his pure conscience, by teUing him he is startled at a shadow. Surely if he is so ingenious in finding offence where none is intended, it were a thousand pities he should not be suffered to enjoy the benefit of his discovery. I have too high an opinion of the undei-standing of my f eUow- A HISTORY OF NEW- YORK. 307 citizens, to think of yielding them any instruction ; and I covet too much their good-wHl, to forfeit it by giving them good ad- vice. I am none of those cynics who despise the world because it despises them — on the contrary, though but low in its regard, I look up to it with the most perfect good nature, and my only sorrow is, that it does not prove itself more worthy of the un- bounded love I bear it. If, however, in this my historic production — the scanty fruit of a long and laborious Ufe — I have failed to gratify the dainty palate of the age, I can only lament my misfortune — for it is too late in the season for me even to hope to repair it. Already has withering age showered his sterile snows upon my brow ; in a little while, and this genial warmth, which still lingers around my heart, and throbs— worthy reader — throbs kindly towards thyself, will be chilled for ever. Haply this frail compound or dust, which while alive may have given birth to nought but unprofitable weeds, may form an humble sod of the valley, from whence may spring many a sweet wild flower, to adorn my beloved island of Manna-hata ! THE ALHAMBR A. BT WASHINGTON IRVING, CHICAGO AND NEW TORK: BELFORD, CLARKE & COMPANY, Publishers. THOW* MO BOOKBINOma COMPANY, NEW YORK. DEDICATION. TO DAVID WHiKIE, ESQ., E.A. My dear Sm:-You may rememljer that, in the course of the rambles we once took together about some of the old cities of Spain, particularly Toledo and Seville, we frequently remarked the mixture of the Saracenic with the Gtothic, remaining from the time of the Moors, and were more than once struck with incidents and scenes in the streets, that brought to mind pas- sages in the " Arabian Nights." You then urged me to writo something illustrative of these peculiarities ; ' ' something in the Haroim Alraschid style," that should have a dash of that Ara- bian spice which pervades every thing in Spain. I call this to mind to show you that you are, in some degree, responsible for the present work ; in which I have given a few "Arabesque" sketches and tales, taken from the Ufe, or founded on local tra- ditions, and mostly struck off during a residence in one of the most legendary and Morisco-Spanish places of the Peninsula. I inscribe this work to you, as a memorial of the pleasant scenes we have witnessed together, in that land of adventure, and as a testimony of an esteem for your worth, which can only be exceeded by admiration of your talents. Tour friend and fellow traveller, I The Authob. THE ALHAMBRA. OOKTEl^TS. PAGE Dedication .' 3 The Journey , 7 GOVBHNMBNT OP THE ALHAKBRA - 20 Il4T£BI0R OF THE AXiHAMBRA 23 The Tower of Couarbs 28 Reflections on the Moslem Domination in Spain 33 The Household ,.. 35 The Truant 38 The Author's Chamber 41 The Alhambra by Moonlight 45 Inhabitants op the Alhambra 46 The Balcony.. 49 The Adventure op the Mason 54 A Ramble among the HttJiR 57 The Court op Lions 63 BOABDIL EL CHICO 67 Momehtos of Boabdil 70 The Tower of t.ab Infantas 73 The House of the Weathebcoce 74 Legend of the Arabian Astrologer 75 Legend op the Three Beautiful Princesses , 89 Local Traditions 108 Legend of the Moor's Lbgaot 109 Visitors of the Alhasibra. 126 Legend of Prtnce Ahmed Al Kamel; or, the Pilgrim op Love ISO Legend op the Rose op the Alhambra; or, the Page and the Ger-Falcon. 156 The Veteran » ] 168 The Governor and the Notary 170 Governor Manco and the Soldier 175 Legend op the Two Discreet Statues. 189 Mahamad Aben Alahmar, the Founder op the Alhambra 203 Jusef Abul Hagias, the Finisher of the Alhambra 309 THE ALHAMBRA. A SERIES OF TALES AND SKETCHES OF THE MOOES AND SPANIARDS. THE JOUENEY. In the spring of 1829, the author of this work, whom curiosity had brought into Spain, made a rambhng expedition from Se- ville to Granada, in company with a friend, a member of the Eussian embassy at Madrid. Accident had thrown us together from distant regions of the globe, and a similarity of taste led us to wander together among the romantic mountains of An- dalusia. Should these pages meet his eye, wherever thrown by the duties of his station, whether mingling in the pageantry of courts or meditating on the truer glories of nature, may they recall the scenes of our adventurous compsuuonship, and with them the remembrance of one, in whom neither time nor dis- tance will obliterate the recollection of his gentleness and worth. And here, before setting forth, let me indulge in a few previ- ous remarks on Spanish scenery and Spanish travelling. Many are apt to picture Spain in their imaginations as a soft southern region decked out with all the luxuriant charms of voluptuous Italy. On the contrary, though there are excep- tions in some of the maritime provinces, yet, for the greater part, it is a stem, melancholy coimtry, with rugged mountains and long, naked, sweeping plains, destitute of trees, and inva- riably silent and lonesome, partaking of the savage and sohtary character of Africa. What adds to this silence and loneliness, is the absence of singing birds, a natural consequence of the w-ant of groves and hedges. The vulture and the eagle are seen wheeling about the m^ountain cliffs and soaring over the plains, 8 TBE ALEAMBRA. and groups of shy bustards stalk about the heaths, but the myriads of smaller birds, which animate the whole faco of other countries, are met with in but few provinces of Spain, and in them chiefly among the orchards and gardens which sur- round the habitations of man. In the exterior provinces, the traveller occasionally teawerses great tracts cultivated with grain as far as Uae *ye can reach, waving at times with verdure, at oth^- lames naked and sun- burnt ; but he looks round in vain for the hand that has tilled the soU : at length he p««eives some vQlage perched on a steep bill/ or rugged cxag, with mouldering battlements and ruined wateh-tower ; a strong-hold, in old times, against civil war or Moorish inroad ; for the custom among the peasantry of congre- gating together for mutual protection, is still kept up in most parts of Spain, in consequence of the marauding of roving free- booters. But though a great part of Spain is deficient in the garniture of groves and forests, and the softer charms of ornamental cul- tivation, yet its scenery has something of a high and lofty char- acter to compensate the want. It partakes something of the attributes of its people, and I think that I better understand the proud, hardy, frugal and abstemious Spaniard, his manly defiance of hardships, and contempt of effeminate indidgences, since I have seen the coimtry he inhabits. There is something, too, in the sternly simple features of the Spanish landscape, that impresses on the soul a feeling of sub- limity. The immense plains of the Castiles and La Mancha, extending as far as the eye can reach, derive an interest from their very nakedness and immensity, and have something of the solemn grandeur of the ocean. In ranging over these boundless wastes, the eye catches sight, here and there, of a straggling herd of cattle attended by a lonely herdsman, mo- tionless as a statue, with his long slender pike tapering up Uke a lance into the air ; or beholds a long train of mules slowly moving along the waste like a train of camels in the desert, or a single herdsman, armed with blunderbuss and stiletto, and prowling over the plain. Thus, the country, the habits, the very looks of the people, have something of the Arabian char- acter. The general insecurity of the country is evinced in the universal use of weapons. The herdsman in the field, the shep- herd in the plain has his musket and his knife. The wealthy villager rarely ventures to the market-town without his trabu- cho, and, perhaps, a servant on foot with a blunderbuss on THE JOURNEY. 9 ids shdiilder; and the most petty journey is undertaken with the preparations of a -warlike enterprise. The dangers of the road produce, also, a mode of travelling, resembling, on a diminutive scale, the caravans of the East. The arrierors or carriers, congregate in troops, and set off in large and well-armed trains on appointed, days, while individual travellers swell their number and contribute to their strength. In this primitive way is the commerce of the country carried on. The muleteer is the general medium of traffic, and the legitimate wanderer of the land, traversing the Peninsula from the Pyrenees and the Asturias, to the Alpuxarras, the Serrania de Bonda, and even to the gates of Gibraltar. He hves frugally and hardily; his alforjas (or saddle-bags), of coarse cloth, hold his scanty stock of provisions ; a leathern bottle hanging at his saddle-bow, contains wine or water for a supply across barren mountains and thirsty plains; a mule cloth spread upon the grovmd is his bed at night, and his pack-saddle is his piUow. His low but clear-limbed and sinewy form betokens strength; his complexion is dark and sun-burnt; his eye resolute, but quiet in its expression, except when kindled by sudden emo- tion; his demeanour is frank, manly, and courteous, and he never passes you without a grave salutation — " Dios guarda a usted !" — " Vay usted con Dios caballero !" — '' God guard you !" — "God be with you! cavalier!" As these men have often their whole fortune at stake upon the burden of their mules, they have their weapons at hand, slung to their saddles, and ready to be snatched down for des- perate defence. But their united numbers render them secure against petty bands of marauders, and the soUtary bandalero, armed to the teeth, and mounted on his Andalusian steed, hovers about them, like a pirate about a merchant convoy, without daring to make an assault. The Spanish muleteer has an inexhaustible stock of songs and ballads, with which to beguile his incessant way-faring. The airs are rude and simple, consisting of but few inflexions. These he chants forth with a loud voice, and long drawling cadence, seated sideways on his mule, who seems to listen with infinite gravity, and to keep time with his paces, to the tune. The couplets thus chanted are often old traditional romances about the Moors ; or some legend of a saint ; or some love ditty ; or, what is stiU more frequent, some ballad about a bold contra- bandista, or hardy bandalero; for the smuggler and the robber are poetical heroes among the common people of Spain. Often 10 TEE ALHAMBRA. the song of the muleteer is composed at the instant, and relates to some local scene, or some incident of the journey. This tal- ent of singing and improvising is frequent in Spain, and is said to have been inherited from the Moors. There is something ■wildly pleasing in listening to these ditties among the rude and lonely scenes they illustrate, accompanied as they are, by the occasional jingle of the nuHe-beU. It has a most picturesque effect, also, to meet a train of mule- teers in some mountain pass. First you hear the bells of the leading mules, breaJdng with their simple melody the stOlness of the airy height ; or, perhaps, the voice of the muleteer ad- monishing some tardy or wandering animal, or chanting, at the full stretch of his lungs, some traditionary ballad. At length you see the mules slowly winding along the cragged defile, sometimes descending precipitous cliffs, so as to present themselves in full rehef against the sky, sometimes toiling up the deep arid chasms below you. As they approach, you descry their gay decorations of worsted tufts, tassels, and saddle- cloths ; while, as they pass by, the ever ready trabucho, slung behind their packs and saddles, gives a hint of the insecurity of the road. The ancient kingdom of Granada, into which we are about to penetrate, is one of the most mountainous regions of Spain. Vast sierras or chains of mountains, destitute of "shrub or tree, and mottled with variegated marbles and granites, elevate their sun-burnt summits against a deep blue sky, yet in their ru^ed bosoms lie engulfed the most verdant and fertile valley, where the desert and the garden strive for mastery, and the veiy rock, as it were, compelled to yield the fig, the orange, and the cit- ron, and to blossom with the myrtle and the rOse. In the wild passes of these mountains, the sight of walled towns and villages built like eagles' nests among the cliffs, and surrounded by Moorish battlements, or of ruined watch-towers perched on lofty peaks, carry the mind back to the chivalrous days of Christian and Moslem warfare, and to the romantic struggle for the conquest of Granada. In traversing their lofty Sierras, the traveller is often obliged to alight and lead his horse up and down the steep and jagged ascents and descents, resem- bling the broken steps of a staircase. Sometimes the road winds along dizzy precipices, without parapet to guard him from the gulfs below, and then wUl plunge down steep and dark and dangerous declivities. Sometimes it struggles through rugged barrancoB, or ravines, worn by water torrents ; the ob- 277^ JOURNEY. 11 scure paths of the Contrabandista, -while ever and anon, the ominous cross, the memento of robbery and murder, erected on a mound of stones at some lonely part of the road, admon- ishes the traveller that he is among the haunts of banditti; perhaps, at that very moment, imder the eye of some lurking bandalero. .Soinetimes, in winding through the narrow valleys, he is startled by a horse beUowiug, and beholds above him, on some green fold of the mountain side, a herd of fierce Andalu- sian bulls, destined for the combat of the arena. There is sometJiing awful in the contemplation of these terrific animals, clothed with tremendous strength, and ranging their native pastures, in untamed wUdness : strangers almost to the face of man. They know no one but the soKtary herdsman who attends upon them, and even he at times dares not venture to approach them. The low beUowings of these buUs, and their menacing aspect as they look down from their rocky height, give addi- tional wUdness to the savage scenery around. 1 have been betrayed unconsciously into a longer disquisition than I had intended on the several features of Spanish travel- ling; but there is a romance about aU the recollections of the Peninsula that is dear to the imagination. It was on the first of May that my companion and myself set forth from Seville, on our route to Granada. "We had made all due preparations for the nature of our journey, which lay through mountainous regions where the roads are little better than mere mule paths, and too frequently beset by robbers. The most valuable part of our luggage had been forwarded by the arrieros; we retained merely clothing and necessaries for the journey, and money for the expenses of the road, with a sufficient surplus of the latter to satisfy the expectations of robbers, should we be assailed, and to save ourselves from the rough, treatment that awaits the too wary and emptyhanded traveller. A couple of stout hired steeds were provided for ourselves, and a third for our scanty luggage, and for the conveyance of a sturdy Biscayan lad of about twenty years of age, who was to guide us through the perplexed mazes of the mountain roads, to take care of our horses, to act occasionally as our valet, and at all times as our guard ; for he had a for- midable trabucho, or carbine, to defend us from rateros, or flolitary footpads, about which weapon he made much vain- glorious boast, though, to the discredit of his generalship, I must say that it generally hung imload^ behind his raddle. He wafi, however, a faithful, cheery, kind-hearted creature, full 12 THE ALHAMBRA. of saws and proverbs as that miracle of squires, the renowned Sancho himself, whose name we bestowed upon him ; and, like a true Spaniard, though treated by us with companionable familiarity, he never for a moment in his utmost hilarity over- stepped the bounds of respectful decorum. Thus equipped and attended, we set out on our journey with a genuine disposition to be pleased: with such a disposition, what a country is Spain for a traveller, where the most miser- able inn is as full of adventure as an enchanted castle, and every meal is in itself an achievement! Let others repine at the lack of turnpike roads and sumptuous hotels, and all the ' elaborate comforts of a coimtry cultivated iuto tameness and common-place, but give me the rude mountain scramble, the roving haphazard way-faring, the frank, hospitable, though half wUd manners, that give such a true game flavour to romantic Spain ! Our first evening's entertainment had a rehsh of the kuid. We arrived after sunset at a litble town among the hUls, after a fatiguing journey over a wide houseless plain, where we had been repeatedly drenched with showers. In the inTi were quartered a party of Miguehstas, who were patroUing the country in pursuit of robbers. The appearance of foreigners like ourselves was unusual in this remote town. Mine host with two or three old gossipping comrades in brown cloaks studied our passports in the comer of the posada, while an Alguazil took notes by the dim light of a lamp. The passports were in foreign languages and perplexed them, but ovcc Squire Sancho assisted them in their studies, and magnified our importance with the grandiloquence of a Spaniard. In the mean time the magnificent distribution of a few cigars had won the hearts of aU around us. In a little while the whole community seemed put ia agitation to make us welcome. The Corregidor himself waited upon us, and a great rush-bottoraed armed chair was I ostentatiously bolstered into our room by oiu* landlady, for the accommodation of that important personage. The com- mander of the patrol took supper with us : a surly, talking, laughing, swaggering Andaluz, who had made a campaign in South Americr., and recounted his, exploits in love and war with much pomp of praise and vehemence of gesticulation, and mysterious rolling of the eye. He told us he had a list of all the robbers in the coimtry, and meant to ferret out every mother's son of them; he offered us at the same time some of his soldiers as an escort. " One is enough to protect you, THE JOURNEY. 13 Signers; the robbers know me, and know my men; the sight of one is enough to spread terror through a whole sierra.'" We thanked him for his offer, but assured him, in his own strain, that with the protection of our redoubtable Squire Sancho, we were not afraid of aH the ladrones of Andalusia. While we were supping with our Andalusian friend, we heard the notes of a guitar and the chck of castanets, and presently, a chorus of voices, singing a popular air. In fact, mine host had gathered together the amateur singers and musicians and the rustic belles of the neighbourhood, and on going forth, the court-yard of the inn presented a scene of true Spanish festivity. 'We took our seats with mine host and hostess and the commander of the patrol, under the archway of the court. The guitar passed from hand to hand, but a jovial shoemaker was the Orpheus of the place. He was a pleasant looking fellow with hu^ black whiskers and a roguish eye. His sleeves were roUed up to his elbows; he touched the guitar with masterly skiU, and sang little amorous ditties with an expressive leer at the women, with whom he was evidently a favourite. He afterwards danced a fandango with a buxom Andalusian damsel, to the great dehght of the spectators. But none of the females present could compare with mine host's . pretty daughter Josef a, who had sUpped away and made her toilette for the occasion, and had adorned her head with roses ; and also distinguished herself in a bolero with a handsome young dragoon. We had ordered our host to let wine and refreshments circulate freely among the company, yet, though there was a motley assemblage of soldiers, muleteers and villagers, no one exceeded the bounds of sober enjoyment. The scene was a study for a painter : the picturesque group of dancers ; the troopers in their half mih- tary dresses, the peasantry wrapped in their brown cloaks, nor must I omit to mention the old meagre Alguazil in a short black cloak, who took no notice of any thing going on, but sat in a comer diligently writing by the dim light of a huge copper lamp that might have figured in the days of Don Quixote. I am not writing a regular narrative, and do not pretend to give the varied events of several days' rambUng over biU and dale, and moor and mountain. We travelled in true contra- bandista style, taking every thing, rough and smooth, as we found it, and mingling with all classes and conditions in a kind of vagabond companionship. It is the true way to travel 14 THE ALHAMBRA. in Spain. Knowing the seanty lardera of the i-nna , and the naked tracts of country the traveller has often to traverse, we had taken care, on starting, to have the alforjas, or saddle- bags, of our Squire well stocked with cold provisions, and his beta, or leathern bottle, which was of portly dimensions, filled to the neck with choice Valdepenas wine. As this was a munition for our campaign more important than even his trabucho, we exhorted him to have an eye to it, and I will do bim the justice to say that his namesake, the trencher-loving Sancho himself, could not excel him as a provident purveyor. Though the alforjas and beta were repeatedly and vigorously assailed throughout the journey, they appeared to have a miraculous property of being never empty; for our vigilant Squire took care to sadj; every thing that remained from our evening repasts at the inns, to supply our next day's luncheon. What luxurious noontide repasts have we made on the green sward by the side of a brook or fountain under a shady tree, and then what delicious siestas on our cloaks spread out on the herbage I We paused one day at noon, for a repast of the kind. It was in a pleasant httle green meadow, surrounded by bilia covered with oUve trees. Our cloaks were spread on the grass under an ehn tree, by the side of a babbling rivulet : our horses were tethered where they might crop the herbage, and Sancho produced his alforjas with an air of triimaph. They contained the contributions of four days' journeying, but had been sig- nally enriched by the foragiug of the previous evening, in a plenteous inn at Antequera. Our Squire drew forth the heterogeneous contents one by one, and they seemed to have no end. Mrist came forth a shoulder of roasted kid, very little, the worse for wear, then an entire partridge, then a great morsel of salted codfish wrapped in paper, then the residue of a ham, then the half of a pullet, together with several rolls of bread and a rabble rout of oranges, figs, raisins, and walnuts. Hia beta also had been recruited with some excellent wine of Malaga, At every fresh apparition from his larder, he could enjoy our ludicrous surprise, throwing himself back on the grass and shouting with laughter. Nothing pleased this simple-hearted varlet more than to be compared, for his devotion to the trencher, to the renowned squire of Don Quixote. He was well versed in the history of the Don, and, Mke most of the common people of Spain, ho fijTuly beheved it to be a true history. THE JOURNEY. 15 "All that, however, happened a long time ago, Signor," said he to me, one day, with an inquiring look. ' ' A very long time," was the reply. "I dare say, more than a thousand years?" — stiU looking dubiously. ' ' I dare say 2 not less. " , The squire was satisfied. As we were making our repast above described, and divert- ing ourselves with the simple droUery of our squire, a sohtary beggar approached us, who had almost the look of a pilgrim. He was evidently very old, with a gray beard, and supported himself on a staff, yet age had not borne him down ; he was taU. and erect, and had the wreck of a fine form. He wore a round Andalusian hat, a sheepskin jacket, and leathern breeches, gaiters, and sandals. His dress, though old and patched, was decent, his demeanour manly, and he addressed us with that grave courtesy that is to be remarked in the low- est Spaniard. We were in a favourable mood for such a visitor, and in a freak of capricious charity gave him some silver, a loaf of fine wheaten bread, and a goblet of our choice wine of Malaga. He received them thankfully, but without any groveUing tribute of gratitude. Tasting the wine, he held it up to the light, with a sUght beam of surprise in his eye ; then quaffing it off at a draught: " It is many years," said he, "since I have tasted such wine. It is a cordial to an old man's heart." Then looking at the beautiful wheaten loaf: "Bendita sea tal pan!" (blessed be such bread!) So saying, he put it in his wallet. We urged him to eat it on the spot. " No, Signers," repUed he, " the wine I had to drink, or leave; but the bread I must take home to share with my family. " Our man Sancho sought our eye, and reading permission there, gave the old man some of the ample fragments of our repast; on condition, however, that he should sit down and make a meal. He accordingly took his seat at some little dis- tance from us, and began to eat, slowly, and with a sobriety and decorum that would have become a hidalgo. There was altogether a measured manner and a quiet self-possession about the old man, that made me think he had seen better days; his language, too, though simple, had occasionally something pic- turesque and almost poetical in the phraseology. I set biTn down for sopie broken-down cavalier. I was mistaken, it was nothing but the innate courtesy of a Spaniard, and the poetical turn of thought and language often to be found in the lowest 16 THE ALHAMBRA. classes of this clear- witted people. For fifty years, he told us, he bad been a shepherd, but now he was out of employ, and destitute. "When I was a young man," said he, "nothing could harm or trouble me. I was always weU, always gay ; but now I am seventy -nine years of age, and a beggar, and my heart begins to fail me." StiU he was not a regular mendicant, it was not until recently that want had driven him to this degradation, and he gave a touching picture of the struggle between htmger and pride, when abject destitution first came upon him. He was returning from Malaga, without money; he had not tasted food for some time, and was crossing one of the great plains of Spain, where there were but few habitations. When almost dead with hunger, he applied at the door of a venta, or country inn. "Perdona usted per Dios hermano!" (excuse us, brother, for God's sake !) was the reply ;— the usual mode in Spain of refusing a beggar. "I turned away," said he, "with shame greater than my hunger, for my heart was yet too proud. I came to a river with high banks and deep rapid current, and felt tempted to throw myself in; what shoiild such an old worthless wretched man as I live for! But when I was on the brink of the current, I thought on the blessed Virgin, and turned away. I travelled on until I saw a country-seat, at a little distance from the road, and entered the outer gate of the court-yard. The door was shut, but there were two young signoras at a window. I approached, and begged : ' Perdona usted per Dios hermano ! ' (excuse us, brother, for God's sake !) and the window closed. I crept out of the court-yard; but hunger overcame me, and my heart gave way. I thought my hour was at hand. So I laid myself down at the gate, com- mended myself to the holy Virgin, and covered my head to die. In a little while afterwards, the master of the house came home. Seeing me lying at his gate, he Tm.covered my head, had pity on my gray hairs, took me into his house, and gave me food. So, Signors, you see that we should always put con- fidence in the protection of the Virgin." The old man was on his way to his native place Archidona, which was close by the summit of a steep and rugged mountain. He pointed to the ruins of its old Moorish castle. That castle, he said, was inhabited by a Moorish king at the time of the wars of Granada. Queen Isabella invaded it with a great army, but the king looked down from his castle among the clouds, and laughed her to scorn. Upon this, the Virgia THE JOURNEY. 17 appeared to the queen, and guided her and her army up a mye terious path of the mountEiin, which had never before been known. When the Moor saw her coming, he was astonished, and springing with his horse from a precipice, was dashed to pieces. The marks of his horse's hoofs, said the old man, are to be seen on the margin of the rock to this day. And see. Signers, yonder is the road by which the queen and her army mounted, you see it Uke a riband up the mountain side ; but the miracle is, that, though it can be seen at a distance, when you come near, it disappears. The ideal road to which he pointed, was evidently a sandy ravine of the mountain, which looked narrow and defined at a distance, but became broEid and indistinct on an approach. As the old man's heart warmed with wine and wassail, he went on to teU us a story of the buried treasure left under the earth by the Moorish king. His own house was next to the foundations of the castle. The curate and notary dreamt three times of the treasure, and went to work at the place pointed out in their dreams. His own son-in-law heard the sound of their pick-axes and spades at night. What they found nobody knows ; they became sud- denly rich, but kept their own secret. Thus the old man had once been next door to fortune, but was doomed never to get under the same roof. I have remarked that the stories of treasure buried by the Moors, which prevail throughout Spain, are most current among the poorest people. It is thus kind nature consoles with shadows for the lack of substantials. The thirsty man dreams of fountains and roaring streams, the himgry man of ideal banquets, and the poor man of heaps of hidden gold; nothing certainly is more magnificent than the imagination of a beggar. The last travelling sketch which I shall give is a curious scene at the httle city of Loxa. This was a famous belligerent frontier post, in the time of the Moors, and repulsed Ferdinand from its waUs. It was the strong-hold of old AJi Atar, the father-in-law of Boabdil, when that fiery veteran saUied forth with his son-in-law, on that disastrous inroad, that ended in the death of the chieftain, and the capture of the monarclL Loxa is wildly situated in a broken mountain pass, on the banks of the Xerul, among rocks and gi-oves, and meadows and gardens. The people seem still to retain the bold fiery spirit of the olden time. Our inn was suited to the place. It was kept by a young, handsome, Andalusian widow, whose 18 THE ALHAMBRA. trim busquina of black silk fringed "witb bugles, set off the play of a graceful form, and round pliant limbs. Her step was firm and elastic, her dark eye was fuU of fire, and the coquetry of her air and varied ornaments of her person showed that she was accustomed to be admired. She was well matched by a brother, nearly about her own age; they were perfect models of the Andalusian majo and maja. He was taU, vigorous, and well formed, with a clear, ohve complexion, a dark beamiag eye, and curhng, chestnut whiskers, that met under his chia. He was gallantly dressed in a short green velvet jacket, fitted to his shape, profusely decorated with silver buttons, with a white handkerchief ici each pocket. He had breeches of the same, with rows of but- tons from the hips to the knges ; a pink sUk handkerchief round his neck, gathered through a ring, on the bosom of a neatly plaited shirt; a sash round the waist to match; bottinas or spatterdashes of the finest russet leather, elegantly worked and open at the calves to show his stockings, and russet shoss set- ting off a weU-shaped foot. As he was standing at the door, a horseman rode up and entered into low and earnest conversation with him. He was dressed in similar style, and almost with equal finery. A man about thirty, square built, with strong Roman features, hand- some, though shghtly pitted with the small-pox, with a free, bold and somewhat daring air. His powerful black horse was decorated with tassels and fanciful trappings, and a couple of broad-mouthed blunderbusses himg behind the saddle. He had the air of those contrabandistas that I have seen in the moun- tains of Ronda, and, evidently, had a good understanding with the brother of mine hostess ; nay, if I mistake not, he was a favourite admirer of the widow. In fact, the whole inn and its inmates had something of a contrabandista aspect, and the blunderbuss stood in a comer beside the guitar. The horseman I have mentioned, passed his evening in the posada, and sang several bold mountain romances with great spirit. As we were at supper, two poor Asturians put in in distress, begging food and a night's lodging. They had been waylaid by robbers as they ^ame from a fair among the mountains, robbed of a horse, which carried all their stock in trade, stripped of their money and most of their apparel, beaten for having offered resistance, and left almost naked in the road. My com- panion, with a prompt generosity, natural to him, ordered them THE JOURNEY. 19 a supper and a bed, and gave them a supply of money to help them forward towards their home. As the evening advanced, the dramatis personse thickened. A large man, about sixty years of age, of powerful frame, came strolling in, to gossip with mine hostess. He was dressed in the ordinary Andalusian costume, but had a huge sabre tucked imder his arm, wore large moustaches and had something of a lofty swaggering air. Every one seemed to regard him with great deference. Our man, Sancho, whispered to us that he was Don Ventui'a Eodriguez, the hero and champion of Loxa, famous for his prowess and the strength of his arm. In the time of the French invasion, he sm^rised six troopers who were asleep. He first secured their horses, then attacked them with his sabre ; killed «ome, and took the rest prisoners. For this exploit, the king allows him a peceta, (the fifth of a duro, or dollar, ) per day, and has dignified him with the title of Don. I was amused to notice his swelling language and demeanour. He was evidently a thorough Andalusian, boastful as he was brave. His sabre was always in his hand, or under his arm. He carries it always about with him as a child does a doU, calls it his Santa Teresa, and says, that when he draws it, " tembla la tierral" (the earth trembles!) I sat until a late hour listening to the varied themes of this motley group, who mingled together with the unreserve of a Spanish posada. We had contrabandista sonp^s, stories of ob- bers, guerilla exploits, and Moorish legends. The last one from our handsome landlady, who gave a poetical account of the infiemos, or infernal regions of Loxa— dark caverns, in which subterraneous streams and waterfalls make a mysterious sound. The common people say they are money coiuers, shut up there from the time of the Moors, and that the Moorish kings kept their treasures in these caverns. Were it the purport of this work, I could fill its pages with the incidents and scenes of our rambling expedition, but other themes invite me. Journeying in this manner, we at length emerged from the mountains, and entered upon the beautiful Vega of Granada. Here we took our last mid-day's repast under a grove of olive trees, on the borders of a rivulet, with the old Moorish capital in the distance, dominated by the ruddy towers of the Alhambra, while far above it the snowy summits 'of the Sierra Nevada shone like silvei". The day was without 20 THE ALHAMBRA. a cloud, and the heat of the sun tempered by cool breezes from the mountains ; after our repast, wo spread our cloaks and took our last siesta, lulled by the humming of bees among the flow- ers, and the notes of the ring doves from the neighbouring ohve trees. When the sultry Lours were past, we resum.cd our journey, and after passing between hedges of aloes and Indism figs, and through a wilderness of gardens, arrived about sunset at the gates of Granada^ GOVERNMENT OF THE ALHAMBRA, To the traveller imbued with a feeling for the historical and poetical, the Alhambra of "iranada is as much an object of veneration as is the Caaba, or sacred house of Mecca, to all true Moslem pilgrims. How many legends and traditions, true and fabulous, how many songs and romances, Spanish and Arabian, of love and war and chivalry, are associated with this romantic pile 1 The reader may judge, therefore, of our deUght, when, shortly after our arrival in Granada, the governor of Alhambra gave us permission to occupy his vacant apartments in the Moorish palace. My companion was soon summoned away by the duties of his station, but I remained for several months spell-bound in the old enchanted pile. The following papers are the result of my reveries and researches, during that deli- cious thraldom. If they have the power of imparting any of the witching charms of the place to the imagination of the reader, he will not repine at lingering with me for a season in the legendary halls of the Alhambra. The Alhambra is an ancient fortress or castellated palace of the Moorish kings of Granada, where they held dominion over this their boasted terrestrial paradise, and made their last stand for empire in Spain. The palace occupies but a portion of the fortress, the walls of which, studded with towers, stretch irregularly round the whole crest of a lofty hill that overlooks the city, and forms a spire of the Sierra Nevada, or Snowy Mountain. In the time of the Moors, the fortress was capable of contain- ing ap army of forty thousand men within its precincts, and scrvKl occasionally as a strong-hold of the sovorGigns agaiiist GOVERNMENT OF THE ALHAMBRA. 31 their rebellious subjects. After the kingdom had passed into the hands of the Christians, the Alhambra continued a royal demesne, and was occasionally inhabited by the Castihan -monarchs. The Emperor Charles V. began a sumptuous ■palace -within its walls, but was deterred from completing it by repeated shocks of earthquakes. The last royal residents were f hilip V. and his beautiful Queen EUzabetta, of Parma, early in the eighteenth century. ; Great preparations were made for their reception. The palace and gardens were placed in a state of repair; and a now suite of apartments erected, and decorated by artists brought from Italy. The sojourn of the sovereigns was transient; and, after their departure, the palace once more became deso- late. Still the place was maintained with some mihtary state. The governor hold it immediately from the crown: its jurisdic- tion extended down ,into the suburbs of the city, and was independent of the captain general of Granada. A consider- able garrison was kept up ; the governor had his apartments in the old Moorish palace, and never descended into Granada without some mUitary parade. The fortress, in fact, was a little town of itself, having several streets of houses within its walls, together with a Franciscan convent and a parochial church. The desertion of the court, however, was a fatal blow to the Alhambra. Its beautiful walls became desolate, and some of them fell to ruin.; the gardens were destroyed, and the foun- tains ceased to play. By degrees the dweUings became filled up with a loose and lawless population ; contrabandistas, who availed themselves of its independent jurisdicljion, to carry on a wide and daring course of smuggling, and thieves and rogues of all sorts, who made this their place of refuge, from whence they might depredate upon Granada and its vicinity. The strong arm of government at length interposed. The whole community was thoroughly sifted; none were suffered to remain but such as were of honest character and had legiti- mate right to a residence ; the greater part of the houses were demolished, and a mere hamlet left, with the parochial church and the Franciscan convent. During the recent troubles in Spain, when Granada was in the hands of the French, the Alhambra was garrisoned by their troops, and the palace was occasionally inhabited by the French commander. With that enlightened taste which has ever distinsuished the French nation in their conquests, this 22 TUli- ALHAMBRA. monument of Moorish elegance and grandeur was rescued from the absolute ruin and desolation that were overwhelming it. The roofs were repaired, the saloons and galleries pro- tected from the weather, the gardens cultivated, the water- courses restored, the fountains once more made to throw up their sparkling showers : and Spain may thank her invaders for having preserved to her the most beautiful and interesting of her historical monuments. On the departure of the French, they blew up several towers of the outer wall, and left the fortifications scarcely tenable. Since that time, the nulitary importance of the post is at an end. The garrison is a handful of invalid soldiers, whose prin- cipal duty is to guard some of the outer towers, which serve, occasionally, as a prison of state ; and the governor, abandon- ing the lofty hill of the Alhambra, resides in the centre of Granada, for the more convenient despatch of his official duties. I cannot conclude this brief notice of the state of the fortress, without bearing testimony to the honourable exertions of its present commander, Don Francisco de Salis Sema, who is tasking aU the limited resources at his command, to put the palace in a state of repair; and by his judicious precautions has for some time arrested its too certain decay. Had his predecessors discharged the duties of their station with equal fidelity, the Alhambra might yet have remained in almost its pristine beauty ; were government to second him with means equal to his zeal, this edifice might still be preserved to adorn the land, and to attract the curious and enlightened of every cHme, for many generations. INTEEIOR OF THE ALHAMBRA. The Alhambra has been so often and so minutely described by travellers, that a mere sketch wiU probably be sufficient for the reader to refresh his recollection ; I wiU give, therefore, a brief account of our visit to it the morning after our arrival in Granada. Leaving our posada of La Espada, we traversed the renowned square of the Vivarrambla, once the scene of Moorish jousts and tournaments, now a crowded market place. From thence we proceeded along the Zacatin, tho main street of whnt was lyTERIOR OF THE ALHAMBRA. 215 the great Bazaar, in the time of the Moors, where the small shops and narrow alleys still retain their Oriental character. Crossing an open place in front of the palace of the captain- general, we ascended a confined and winding street, the name of which reminded us of the chivaJric days of Granada. It is called the Calle, or street of the Gomeres: from a Moorish family, famous in chronicle and song. This street led up to a mansion gateway of Grecian architecture, buUt by Charles V. , forming the entrance to the domains of the Alhambra. At the gat« were two or three ragged and superannuated soldiers, dozing on a stone bench, the successors of the Zegris and the Abencerrages ; while a taU, meagre varlet, whose rusty brown cloak was, evidently, intended to conceal the ragged state of his nether garments, was lounging in the sun- shine, and gossipping with an ancient sentinel, on duty. He joined us as we entered the gate, and offered liis services to showed us the fortress. I have a traveller's dislike to officious ciceroni, and did not altogether like the garb of the appHcant : " You are well acquainted with the place, I presume?" " Ninguno mas — pues, senor, soy hijo de la Alhambra." (Nobody better — in fact, sir, I am a son of the Alhambra.) The common Spaniards have certainly a most poetical way of expressing themselves — "A son of the Alhambra:" the appel- lation caught me at once ; the very tattered garb of my new acquaintance assumed a dignity in my eyes. It was emble- matic of the features of the place, and became the progeny of a ruin. I put some further questions to him, and found his title was legitimate. His family had lived in the fortress from genera- tion to generation ever since the time of the conquest. His name was Mateo Ximenes. "Then, perhaps," said I, "you may be a descendant from the great Cardinal Ximenes." " Dios sabe ! God knows, senor. It may be so. We are the oldest family in the Alhambra. Vi^os Cristianos, old Chris- 'tians, without any laint of Moor or Jew. I know we belong to some great family or other, but I forget who. My father knows all about it. He has the coat of arms hanging up in his cottage, up in the fortress."— There is never a Spaniard, however poor, but has some claim to high pedigree. The first title of this ragged worthy, however, had completely captivated me, so I gladly accepted the services of the "son of the Al- hambra." 24 THE ALUAMBRA. We now found ourselves in a deep narrow ravine, filled with beautiful groves, with a steep avenue and various foot-paths winding through it, bordered with stone seats and ornamented with fountains. To our left, we beheld the towers of the Al- hambra beethng above us; to our right, on the opposite side of the ravine, we were equally dominated by rival towers on a rocky eminence. These, we were told, were the Torres Ver- mejos, or Vermilion towers, so called from their ruddy hue. No one knows their origin. They are of a date much anterior to the Alhambra. Some suppose them to have been built by the Romans -, others, by some wandering colony of Phoenicians. Ascending the steep and shady avenue, we arrived at the foot of a huge square Moorish tower, forming a kind of barbican, through which passed the main entrance to the fortress. Within the barbican was another group of veteran invalids, one mounting guard at the portal, while tbe rest, wrapped in their tattered cloaks, slept on the stone benches. This portal is called the Gate of Justice, from the tribunal held within its porch during the Moslem domination, for the immediate trial of petty causes ; a custom common to the Oriental natiotis, and occasionally alluded to in the sacred Scriptures. The great vestibiile, or porch of the gate, is formed by an immense Arabian arch of the horseshoe form, which springs to half the height of the tower. On the key-stone of this arch is engraven a gigantic hand. Within the vestibule, on the key-stone of the portal, is engraven, in like manner, a gigantic key. Those who pretend to some knowledge of Mahometan symbols, affirm, that the hand is the emblem of doctrine, and the key, of faith; the latter, they add, was emblazoned on the standard of the Moslems when they subdued Andalusia, in op- position to the Christian emblem of the cross. A different ex- planation, however, was given by the legitimate "son of the Alhambra," and one more in unison with the notions of the common people, who attach something of mystery and magic to everything Moorish, and have aU kinds of superstitions con-nected with this old Moslem fortress. According to Mateo, it was a tradition handed down from the oldest inhabitants, and which he had from his father and grandfather, that the hand and key were magical devices on which the fate of the Alhambra depended. The Moorish king who built it was a great magician, and, as some believed, had sold himself to the devil, and had laid the whole fortress under >-., magic spell. By this means it had remained standing for lA^TERlOR OF THE ALHAMBltA. V.) several hundred years, in defiance of storms and ea,rfchquakes, while almost all the other buildings of the Moors had fallen to ruin and disappeared. The spell, the tradition went on to say, would last until the hand on the outer arch should reach down and grasp the key, when the whole pile would tumble to pieces, and all the treasures buried beneath it by the Moors would be revealed. Notwithstanding this ominous prediction, we ventured to pass through the speU-bound gateway, feeling some little as- surance against magic art in the protection of the Virgin, a statue of whom we observed above the portal. After passing tbrough the Barbican, we ascended a narrow lane, winding between walls, and, came on an open esplanade within the fortress, called the Plaza de los Algibes, or Place of the Cisterns, from great reservoirs which undermine it, cut in the Uving rock by the Moors, for the supply of the fortress. Here, also, is a well of immense depth, furnishing the purest and coldest of water,— another monument of the dehcate taste of the Moors, who were indefatigable in their exertions to ob- tain that element in its crystal purity. In front of this esplanade is the splendid pUe, commenced by Charles V. , intended, it is said, to ecHpse the residence of the Moslem kings. With all its grandeur and architectural merit, it appeared to us like an arrogant intrusion, and passing by it we entered a simple unostentatious portal, opening into the in- terior of the Moorish palace. The transition was almost magical ; it seemed as if we were at once transported into other times and another realm, and Were treading the scenes of Arabian story. We found our- selves in a great court paved with white marble and decorated at each end with Ught Moorish peristyles. It is called the court of the Alberca. In the centre was an immense basin, or fish-pool, a himdred and thirty feet in length, by thirty in breadth, stocked with gold-fish, and bordered by hedges of roses. At the upper end of this court, rose the great tower of Comares. From the lower end, we passed through a Moorish arch-way into the renowned Court of lions. There is no part of the edi- fice that gives us a more complete idea of its original beauty and magnificence than this ; for none has suffered so little from the ravages of time. In the centre stands the foimtain famous in song and story. The alabaster basins still shed their dia- mond drops, and the twelve lions which support them, cast 26 THE ALHAMBEA. forth their crystal streams as in the days of Boabdil. The court is laid out in flower beds, and surrounded by light Ara- bian arcades of open fUigree work, supported by slender pil- lars of white marble. The architecture, like that oS. all the other parts of the palace, is characterized by elegance, rather than grandeur, bespeaking a delicate and graceful taste, and a disposition to indolent enjoyment. When we look upon the fairy tracery of the peristyles, and the apparently fra^e fret- work of the waUs, it is difficult to beheve that so much has survived the wear and tear of centuries, the shocks of earth- quakes, the violence of war, and the quiet, though no less baneful, pilferings of the tasteful traveller. It is almost suffi- cient to excuse the populai- tradition, that the whole is pro- tected by a magic oharm. On one side of the court, a portal richly adorned opens into a lofty hall paved with white marble, and called the Hall of the two Sisters. A cupola or lantern admits a tempered light from above, and a free cii-culation of air. The lower pjirt of the walls is incrusted with beautiful Moorish tUes, on some of which are emblazoned the escutcheons of the Moorish mon- archs : the upper part is faced with the fine stucco work in- vented at Damascus, consisting of large plates cast in moulds and artfully joined, so as to have the appearance of having been laboriously sculptured by the hand into light relievos and fancifvd arabesques, intermingled with texts of the Koran, and poetical inscriptions in Arabian and Celtic characters. These decoi-ations of the walls and cupolas are richly gilded, and the interstices paneUed with lapis lazuli and other brilliant and en- during colours. On each side of the wall are recesses for otto- mans and arches. Above an inner porch, is a balcony which communicated with the women's apartment. The latticed bal-i conies stiU remain, from whence the dark-eyed beauties of the harem might gaze unseen upon the entertainments of the hall below. It is impossible to contemplate this once favourite abode of Oriental manners, without feehng the early associations of Ai-abian romance, and almost expecting to see the white arm of some mysterious princess beckoning from the balcony, or some dark eye sparkling through the lattice. The abode of beauty is here, as if it had been inhabited but yesterday — but where are the Zoraydais and Linderaxas !. On the opposite side of the court of Lions, is the hall.of the AbencerrageSj so called. from the gallant cavaliers of that INTERIOR OF THE ALHAMBRA. 27 fllustrious line, who were here perfidiously massacred. There are some who doubt the whole truth of this story, but our humble attendant, Mateo, pointed out the very wicket of the portal through which they are said to have been iatroduced, one by one, and the white marble fountain in the centre of the hall, where they were beheaded. He showed us also certain broad ruddy stains ia the pavement, traces of their blood, which, according to popular belief, can never be effaced. Fiading we listened to Him with easy faith, he added, that there was often heard at night, in the Court of the Lions, a low confused sound, resembling the murmurings of a multi- tude; with now and then a faint tinkling, like the distant clank of chains. These noises are probably produced by the bubbling currents and tinkling falls of water, conducted under the pavement through pipes and channels to supply the foun- tains ; but according to the legend of the son of the Alhambra, they are made by the spirits of the murdered Abenccrrages, who nightly haunt the scene of their suffering, and invoke the vengeance of Heaven on their destroyer. From the Court of Lions, we retraced our stops through the court of the Alberca, or great fish-pool, crossing which, we pro- ceeded to the tower of Comares, so called from the name of the Arabian architect. It is of massive strength, and lofty height, domineering over the rest of the edifice, and overhang- ing the steep hiU-side, which descends abruptly to the banks of the Darro. A Moorish archway admitted us 'into a vast and lofty hall, which occupies the interior of the tower, and was the grand audience chamber of the Moslem monarchs, thence called the haU of Ambassadors. It stiU bears the traces of past magnificence. The walls are richly stuccoed and dec- orated with arabesques, the vaulted ceilings of cedar wood, almost lost in obscurity from its height, still gleam with rich gilding and the bnUiant tints of the Arabian pencil. On three sides of the saloon are deep windows, cut through the im- mense thickness of the walls, the balconies of which look down upon the verdant valley of the Darro, the streets and convents of the Albaycin, and command a prospect of the dis- tant Vega. I might go on to describe the other delightful apartments of this side of the palace; the Tocador or toilet of the Queen, an open belvedere on the summit of the tower, where the Moorish sultanas enjoyed the pure breezes from the motrntain and the prospect of the surrounding paradise. The secluded little patio or garden of Lindaraxa, with its alabaster 28 THE ALHAMBRA. fountain, its thickets of roses and myTtles, of citrons and oranges. The cool halls and grottoes of the baths, where the glare and heat of day are tempered into a self -mysterious light and a pervading freshness. But I appear to dwell miautely on these scenes. My object is merely to give the reader a gen- eral introduction iuto an abode, where, if disposed, he may hnger and loiter with me through the remaiader of this work, gradually becoming familiar with aU its beauties. An abundant supply of water, brought from the mountains by old Moorish aqueducts, circidates throughout the palace, supplying its baths and fish-pools, sparMing in jets within its haUs, or murmuring in channels along the marble pavements. When it has paid its tribute to the royal pUe, and visited its gardens and pastures, it flows down the long avenue leading to the city, tinkling in rills, gushing in fountains, and main- taining a perpetual verdure in those groves that embower and beautify the whole hUl of the Alhambra. Those, only, who have sojourned in the ardent climates of the South, can appreciate the dehghts of an abode combining the breezy coolness of the mountain with the freshness and verdure of the vaUey. While the city below pants with the noon-tide heat, and the parched Vega trembles to the eye, the delicate airs from the Sierra Nevada play through the lofty halls, bringing with them the sweetness of the surrounding gardens. Every thing invites to that indolent repose, the bliss of Southern climes; and while the half-shut eye looks out from shaded balconies upon the gUttering landscape, the ear is lulled by the rustUng of groves, and the murmur of running streams. THE TOWER OF COMAEES. i The reader has had a sketch of the interior of the Alhambra, and may be desirous of a general idea of its vicinity. The morning is serene and lovely; the sun has not gained suffi- cient power to destroy the freshness of the night; we will mount to the summit of the tower of Comares, and take a bird's-eye view of Granada and its environs. Come, then, worthy reader and comrade, follow my steps into this vestibule ornamented with rich tracery, which opens to the hall of Ambassadors. We will not enter the hall, how THE TOWER OF COM ARES. 29 ever, but turn to the left, to this small door, opening in the ■wall. Have a care! here are steep -winding steps and but scanty light. Yet, up this narrow, obscure and winding stair- case, the proud monarchs of Granada and their queens have often ascended to the battlements of the tower to watch the approach of Christian armies ; or to gaze on the battles in the Vega. At length we are upon the terraced roof, and may take breath for a moment, while we cast a general eye oyer the splendid panorama of city and country, of rocky mountain, verdant valley and fertile plain ; of castle, cathedral, Moorish towers and Gothic domes, crumbling ruins and blooming groves. Let us approach the battlements and cast our eyes imme- diately below. See, — on this side we have the whole plan of the Alhambra laid open to us, and can look down into its courts and gardens. At the foot of the tower is the Court of the Alberca with its great tank or fish-pool bordered with flowers; and yonder is the Court of Lions, with its famous fountain, and its Ught Moorish arcades ; and in the centre of the pile is the little garden of Lindaraxa, buried in the heart of the building, with its roses and citrons and shrubbery of emerald green. That belt of battlements studded with square towers, strag- gling round the whole brow of the MU, is the outer boundary of the fortress. Some of the towers, you may perceive, are in ruins, and their raassive fragments are buried among vines, fig-trees and aloes. Let us look on this northern side of the tower. It is a giddy height; the very foundations of the tower rise above the groves of. the steep hill-side. And see, a long fissure in the massive walls shows that the tower has been rent by some of the earthquakes, which from time to time have thrown Grana- da into consternation ; and which, sooner or later, must reduce .this crumbling pile to a mere mass of ruin. The deep narrow glen below us, which gradually widens as it opens from the mountains, is the valley of the Darro; you see the httle river winding its way imder embowered terraces, and among or- chards and flower gardens. It is a stream famous in old tunes for yielding gold, and its sands are stiU sifted, occasionally, in search of the precious ore. Some of those white pavihons which here and there gleam from among groves and vineyards, were rustic retreats of the Moors, to enjoy the refreshment of their gardens. 30 THE ALHAMBRA. The airy palace with its tall -white towers and long arcades, which breast yon mountain, among pompous groves and hang- ing gardens, is the GeneralifEe, a summer palace of the Moor- ish kings, to which they resorted diiring the sultry months, to enjoy a still more breezy region than that of the Alhambra. The naked summit of the height above it, where you behold some shapeless ruins, is the SUla del Moro, or seat of the Moor ; so called from having been a retreat of the unfortunate Boab- dil, during the time of an insurrection, where he seated himself and looked down mournfully upon his rebellious city. A murmuring sound of water now and then rises from the valley. It is from the aqueduct of yon Moorish mill nearly at the fool; of the hill. The avenue of trees beyond, is the Ala- meda along the bank of the Darro, a favourite resort in even- ings, and a rendezvous of lovers in the summer nights, when the guitar may be heard at a late hour from the benches along its walks. At present there are but a few loitering monks to be seen there, and a group of water carriers from the fountain of AveUanos. You start ! 'Tis nothing but a hawk we have frightened from his nest. This old tower is a complete brooding-place for vagrant birds. The swallow and martlet abound in every chink and cranny, and circle about it the whole day long ; while at night, when aU other birds have gone to rest, the mop- ing owl comes out of its lurking place, and utters its boding cry from the battlements. See how the hawk we have dis- lodged sweeps away below us, skimming over the tops of the trees, and sailing up to ruins above the GeneraUffe. Let us leave this side of the tower and turn our eyes to the west. Here you behold in the distance a range of mountains bounding the "Vega, the ancient barrier between Moslem Grana- da and the land of the Christians. Among the heights you may stiU discern warrior towns, whose gray walls and battle- ments seem of a piece with the rocks on which they are built ; while here and there is a sohtary atalaya or watch-tower, mounted on some lofty point, and looking down as if it were from the sky, into the valleys on either side. It was down the defiles of these mountains, by the pass of Lope, that the Chris- tian armies descended into the Vega. It was round the base of yon gray and naked mountain, almost insulated from the rest, and stretching its bald rocky promontory into the bosom of the plain, that the invading squadi-ons would come bursting into view, with flaunting banners and the clangour of drums Till-: TOWJJU OF CUM ARES. 31 and trumpets. How changed is the scene! Instead of the glittering liae of mailed warriors, we behold the patient train of the toilful muleteer, slowly moving along the skirts of the mountain. Behind that promontory, is the eventful bridge of Pinos, renowned for many a bloody strife between Moors and Chris- tians; but still more renowned as being the place where Co- kunbus was overtaken and. called back by the messenger of Queen Isabella, just as he was departing in despair to cany his project of discovery to the court of France. Behold another place famous in the history of the discoverer: yon line of walls and towers, gleaming in the morning sun in the very centre of the Vega ; the city of Santa Fe, buUt by the Cathohc sovereigns during the siege of Q-ranada, after a con- flagration had destroyed their camp. It was to these waUs that Columbus was called back by the heroic queen, and within them the treaty was concluded that led to the discovery of the Western World. Here, towards the south, the eye revels on the luxuriant beauties of the Vega ; a blooming wilderness of grove and gar- den, and teeming orchards ; with the Xeml winding through it in silver links and feeding innumerable riUs, conducted through ancient Moorish channels, which maintain the land- scape in perpetual verdure. Here are the beloved bowers and gardens, and rural retreats for which the Moors fought with such desperate valour. The very farm-houses and hovels which are now inhabited by the boors, retain traces of ara- besques and other tasteful decorations, which show them to have been elegant residences in the days of the Moslems. Beyond the embowered region of the Vega you behold, to the south, a Une of arid hiUs down which a long train of mules is slowly moving. It was from the summit of one of those hiUs that the imf ortunate BoabdU cast back his last look upon Granada and gave vent to the agony of his soul. It is the spot famous in song and story, "The last sigh of the Moor." Now raise your eyes to the snowy summit of yon pile of mountains, shining like a white siimmcr cloud on the blue slcy. It is the Sierra Nevada, the pride and deUght of Granada; the source of her cooling breezed and perpetual verdure, of her gushing fountains and perennial streams. It is this glorious pile of mountains that gives to Granada that combination of delights so rare in a southern pity. The fresh vegetation, and . the temperate airs of a northern climate, with the -vivifying 32 THE ALIIAMBRA. ardour of a tropical sun, and the cloudless azure of a southern sky. It is this aerial treasury of snow, which, melting in proportion to the increase of the summer heat, sends down rivulets and streams through every glen and gorge of the Al- puxarras, diffusing emerald verdure and fertility throughout a chain of happy and sequestered valleys. These mountains may well be called the glory of Granada. They dominate the whole extent, of Andalusia, emd may be seen from its most distant jxirts. The muleteer hails them as he views their frosty peaks from the sultry level of the pl£dn; and the Spanish mariner on the deck of his bark, far, far off, on thebosom of the blue Mediterranean, watches them with a pensive eye, thinks of dehghtful Granada, and chants in low voice some old romance about the Moors. But enough, the sun is high above the mountains, and is pouring his f uU fervour upon our heads. Already the terraced roof of the town is hot beneath our feet, let us abandon it, eind descend and refresh ourselves under the arcades by the foun- tain of the Lions. EEFLECTIONS ON THE MOSLEM DOMINATION IN SPAIN. One of my favourite resorts is the balcony of the central ■window of the Hall of Ambassadors, in the lofty tower of Comares. I have just been seated there, enjoying the close of a long briUiant day. The sun, as he sank behind the purple mountains of Alhama, sent a stream of effulgence up the val- ley of the Darro, that spread a melancholy pomp over the ruddy towers of the Alhambra, while the Vega, covered with a sMght sultry vapour that caught the setting ray, seemed spread out in the distance like a golden sea. Not a breath of air disturbed the stillness of the hour, and though the faint sound of music and merriment now and then arose from the gardens of the Darro, it but rendered more impressive the monumental silence of the pile which overshadowed me; It was one of those hours and scenes in •which memory asserts an almost magical power, and, like the evening sun beaming on these mouldering towei-s, sends back her retrospective rays to Mght up the glories of the past. ' REFLECTIONS. 33 As I sat watching the effect of the declining daylight upon this Moorish pile, I was led into a consideration of the light, elegant and voluptuous character prevalent throughout its internal architecture, and to contrast it with the grand but gloomy solemnity of the Gothic edifices, reared by the Spanish conquerors. The very architecture thus bespeaks the opposite and irreconcilable natures of the two warhke people, who so long battled here for the mastery of the Peninsula. By de- grees I fell into a course of musiag upon the singular features of the Arabian or Morisco Spaniards, whose whole existence is as a tale that is told, and certainly forms one of the most anomalous yet splendid episodes in history. Potent and dura- ble as was their dominion, we have no one distinct title by which to designate them. They were a nation, as it were, without a legitimate country or a name. A remote wave of the great Arabian inundation, cast upon the shores of Europe, they seemed to have all the impetus of the first rush of the torrent. Their course of conquest from the rock of Gibraltar to the cliffs of the Pyrenees, was as rapid and brilliant as the Moslem victories of Syria and Egypt. Nay, had they not been checked on the plains of Tours, all Fji^ce, all Europe, might have been overrun with the same facility as the empires of the east, and the crescent might at this day have glittered on the fanes of Paris and of London. Repelled within the limits of the Pyrenees, the mixed hordes of Asia and Africa that formed this great irruption, gave up the Moslem principles of conquest, and sought to establish in Spain a peaceful and permanent dominion. As conquerors their heroism was only equalled by their moderation; and in both, for a time, they excelled the nations with whom they contended. Severed from their native homes, they loved the land given them, as they supposed, by Allah, and strove to embeUish it with every thing that cpuld administer to the happiness of man. Laying the foundations of their power in a system of wise and equitable laws, dUigently cultivating the arts and sciences, and promoting agriculture, manufactures, , and commerce, they gradually formed an empire unrivaUed for its prosperity, by any of the empires of Christendom; and diligently drawing round them the graces and refinements that marked the Arabian empire in the east at the time of its greatest civilization, they diffused the light of oriental know- . ledge through the western regions of beniphted Europe. The cities of Arabian Spain became the resort of Christian 34 THE ALHAMBRA. artisans, to instruct themselves in the useful arts. The uni- versities of Toledo, Cordova, Seville, and Granada were sought by the pale student from other lands, to acquaint himseK with the sciences of the Arabs, and the treasured lore of antiquity^ the lovers of the gay sciences resorted to Cordova and Gra- nada, to imbibe the poetry and music of the east ; and the stcol-clad warriors of the north hastened thither, to accom- phsh themselves in the graceful exercises and courteous usages of chivalry. If the Moslem monuments in Spain ; if the Mosque of Cor- dova, the Alcazar of Seville and the AJhambra of Granada, still bear inscriptions fondly boasting of the power and per- manency of their donunion, can the boast be derided as arro- gant and vain? Generation after generation, century after century had passed away, and still they maintained pos- session of the land. A period had elapsed longer than that which has passed since England was subjugated by the Nor- man conqueror ; and the descendants of Musa and Tarik might as little anticipate being driven into exile, across the same straits traversed by their triumphant ancestors, as the de- scendants of Eollo and William and their victorious peers may dream of being driven back to the shores of Normandy. With aU this, however, the Moslem empire in Spain was but a brilliant exotic that took no permanent root in the soil it em- bellished. Severed from all their neighbours of the west by impassable barriers of faith and manners, and separated by seas and deserts from their kindred of the east, they were an isolated people. Their whole existence was a prolonged though gallant and chivalric struggle for a foot-hold in a usurped land. They were the outposts and frontiers of Islamism. The pen- insula was the great battle ground where the Gothic con- querors of the north and the Moslem conquerors of the east, met and strove for mastery ; and the fiery courage of the Arab was at length subdued by the obstinate and persevering valour of the Goth. Never was the annihilation of a people more complete than that of the Morisco Spaniards. Where are they? Ask the shores of Barbary and its desert places. The exiled remnant of their once powerful empire disappeared among the bar- barians of Africa, and ceased to be a nation. They have not even left a distinct name behind them, though for nearly eight centuries they were a distinct people. The home of their adoption and of their occupation for ages refuses to aclmow- TtW HOUSEHOLD. ^ ^ 35 ledge them but as invaders and usurpers. A few broken monuments are all that remain to bear witness to their power and dominion, as soUtary rocks left fax in the interior bear testimony to the extent of some vast inundation. Such is the Alhambra. A Moslem pile in the midst of a Christian land ; an oriental palace amidst the Grothic edifices of the west ; an elegant memento of a brave, intelligent and graceful people, who conquered, ruled, and passed away. THE HOUSEHOLD. It is time that I give some idea of my domestic arrangements in this singular residence. The royal palace of the Alhambra is intrusted to the care of a good old maiden dame called Dona Antonia Molina, but who, according to Spanish custom, goes by the more neighbourly appellation of Tia Antonia (Aunt An- tonia). She maintains the Moorish halls and gardens in order, and shows them to strangers ; in consideration of which, she is allo'wed all the perquisites received from visitors and all the produce of the gardens, excepting that she is expected to pay an occasional tribute of fruits and flowers to the governor. Her residence is in a comer of the palace, and her family con- sists of a nephew and niece, the children of two different broth- ers. The nephew, Manuel Molina, is a yovmg man of sterling worth and Spanish gravity. He has served in the armies both in Spain and the West Indies, but is now studying medicine in hopes of one day or other becoming physician to the for- tress, a post worth at least a hundred and forty dollars a year. As to the niece, she is a plump httle black-eyed Andalusian damsel named Dolores, but who from her bright looks and cheerful disposition merits a merrier name. She is the declared heiress of all her aimt's possessions, consisting of certain ruin- ous tenements in the fortress, yielding a revenue of about one hundred and fifty dollars. I had not been long in the Alham- brg, before I discovered that a quiet courtship was going on be- tween the discreet Manuel and his bright-eyed cousin, and that nothing was wanting to enable them to join their hands and expectations, but that he should receive his doctor's diploma, and purchase a dispensation from the pope, on aftcoimt of their consanguinity. 35 THE ALBAMBRA. With the good dame Antonia I have made a treaty, accord- ing to which, she furnishes me with board and lodging, while the merry-hearted Uttle Dolores keeps my apartment in order and officiates as handmaid at meal times. I have also at my command a tall, stuttering, yellow-haired lad named Pepe, who works in the garden, and would fain have acted as valet, but in this he was forestalled by Mateo Ximenes, " The son of the Alhambra." This alert and officious wight has managed, somehow or other, to stick by me, ever since I first encountered him at the outer gate of the fortress, and to weave himself into all my plans, until he has fairly appointed and installed him- self my valet, cicerone, guide, guard, and historio-graphic squire ; and I have been obhged to improve the state of his wardrobe, that he may not disgrace his various functions, so that he has cast off his old brown mantle, as a snake does his skin, and now figures about the fortress with a smart Andalu- sian hat and jacket, to his infinite satisfaction and the great astonishment of his comrades. The chief fault of honest Mateo is an over-anxiety to be useful. Conscious of having foisted himself into my employ, and that my simple and quiet habits render his situation a sinecure, he is at his wit's end to devise modes of making himself important to my welfare. I am in a manner the victim of his officiousness ; I cannot put my foot over the threshold of the palace to stroll about the fortress, but he is at my elbow to explain every thing I see, and if Tventure to ramble among the surrounding hUls, he insists upon attend- ing me as a guard, though I vehemently suspect he would be more apt to trust to the length of his legs than the strength of his arms in case of attack. After all, however, the poor feUow is at times an amusing companion ; he is simple-minded and of infinite good humour, with the loquacity and gossip of a village barber, and knows all the small talk of the place and its envi- rons; but what he chiefly values himself on is his stock of local information, having the most marvellous stories to relate of every tower, and vaidt and gateway of the fortress, in all of which he places the most implicit faith. Most of these he has derived, according to his own account, from his grandfather, a little legendary tailor, who lived to the age of nearly a hundred years, during which he made but two migrations beyond the precincts of the fortress. TTia shop, for the greater part of a century, was the resort of a knot of vener- able gossips, where they would pass half the night talking about old times and the wonderful events and hidden secrets of the THE HOUSEHOLD. 37 place. The whole living, moving, thinking and acting of this little historical tailor, had thus been hounded by the walls of the Alhambra ; within them he had been born, within them he lived, breathed and had his being, within them he died and was buried. Fortunately for posterity his traditionary lore died not with him. The authentic Mateo, when an urchin, used to be an attentive listener to the narratives of his grand- father and of the gossip group assembled round the shop board, and is thus possessed of a stock of valuable knowledge concern- ing the Alhambra, not to be found in the books, and well worthy the attention of every curious traveller. Such are the personages that contribute to my domestic com- forts in the Alhambra, and I question whether any of the po- tentates, Moslem or Christian, who have preceded mc in the palace, have been waited upon with greater fidehty or enjoyed a serener sway. When I rise in the morning, Pepe, the stuttering lad, from the gardens, brings me a tribute of fresh culled flowers, which are afterwards arranged in vases by the skilful hand of Dolores, who takes no small pride in the- decorations of my chamber. My rheals are made wherever caprice dictates, sometimes in one of the Moorish halls, sometimes under the arcades of the Court of Idons, surrounded by flowers and fountains; and when I walk out I am conducted by the assiduous Mateo to the most romantic reft-eats of the mountains and dehcious haunts of the adjacent valleys, not one of which but is the scene of some wonderful tale. Though fond of passing the greater part of my day alone, yet I occasionally repair in the evenings to the little domestic cir- cle of Dona Antonia. This is generally held in an old Moorish chamber, that serves for kitchen as well as hall, a rude fire- place having been made in one comer, the sriioke from which has discoloured the walls and almost obliterated the ancient arabesques. A window with a balcony overhanging the bal- cony of the Darro, lets in the cool evening breeze, and here I take my frugal supper of fruit and milk, and mingle with the conversation of the family. There is a natural talent, or mother \yit, as it is called, about the Spaniards, which renders them intellectual and agreeable companions, whatever may be their condition in Ufe, or however imperfect may have been their education; add to this, they are never vulgar; nature has en- dowed them with an inherent dignity of spirit. The good Tia Antonia is a woman of strong and intelligent, though unculti- 38 THE ALHAMBRA. vated mind, and the bright-eyed Dolores, though she has read but three or four books in the whole course of her life, has an engaging mixture of naivete and good sense, and often sur- prises me by the pungency of her artless sallies. Sometimes the nephew entertains us by reading some old comedy of Cal- deron or Lope de Vega, to which he is evidently prompted by a desire to improve as well as amuse his cousin Dolores, though to his great mortification the little damsel generally falls asleep before the first act is completed. Sometimes Tia Antonia has a httle bevy of humble friends and dependants, the inhabitants of the adjacent hamlet, or the wives of the invalid soldiers. These look up to her with great deference as the custodian of the palace, and pay their court to her by bringing the news of the place, or the rumours that may have straggled up from Granada. In listening to the evening gossipings, I have picked up many curious facts, illustrative of the manners of the people and the peculiarities of the neighbourhood. These are simple details of simple pleasures ; it is the nature of the place alone that gives them interest and importance. I tread haunted ground and am surrounded by romantic asso- ciations. From earliest boyhood, when, on the banks of the Hudson, I first pored over the pages of an old Spanish story about the wars of Granada, that city has ever been a subject of my waking dreams, and often have I trod in fancy the romantic halls of the Alhambra. Behold for 'once a day-dream realized ; yet I can scarcely credit my senses or beheve that I do indeed inhabit the palace of Boabdil, and look down from its balconies upon chivalric Granada. As I loiter through the oriental chambers, and hear the murmuring of fountaios and the song of the nightingale : as I inhale the odour of the rose and feel the influence of the bahny climate, I am almost tempted to fancy myself in the Paradise of Mahomet, and that the plump httle Dolores is one of the bright-eyed Houris, des- tined to administer to the happiness of true believers. THE TRUANT. Since writing the foregoing pages, we have had a scene of petty tribulation in the Alhambra which has thrown a cloud over the sunny countenance of Dolores. This httle damsel has THE TRUANT. 39 a female passion for pets of all kinds, from the superabundant kindness of her disposition. One of the ruined courts of the Alhambra is thronged with her favourites. A stately peacock and his hen seem to hold regal sway here, over pompous tur- keys, querulous guinea fowls, and a rabble rout of common cocks ajid hens. The great delight of Dolores, however, has for some time past been centred in a youthful pair of pigeons, who have lately entered into the holy state of wedlock, and who have even supplanted a tortoise shell cat and kitten in her affections. As a tenement for them to commence housekeeping she had fitted up a small chamber adjacent to the kitchen, the window of which looked into one of the quiet Moorish courts. Here they lived in happy ignorance of any world beyond the court and its sunny roofs. In vain they aspired to soar above the battlements, or to mount to the summit of the towers. Their virtuous tmion was at length crowned by two spotless and nulk white eggs, to the great joy of their cherishing Uttle mis- tress. Nothing coidd be more praiseworthy than the conduct of the young married folks on this interesting occasion. They took turns to sit upon the nest until the eggs were hatched, and while their callow progeny required warmth and shelter. While one thus stayed at home, the other foraged abroad for food, and brought home abundant supplies. This scene of conjugal feUcity has suddenly met with a re- verse. Early this morning, as Dolores was feeding the male pigeon, she took a fancy to give him a peep at the great world. Opening a window, therefore, which looks down upon the val- ley of the Darro, she laimched him at once beyond the walls of the Alhambra. For the first time in his life the astonished bird had to try the full vigour of his wings. He swept down into the valley, and then rising upwards with a surge, soared almost to the clouds. Never before haa he risen .to such a height or experienced such dehght in flying, and like a young spendthrift, just come to his estate, he seemed giddy with excess of liberty, and with the boundless field of action sud- denly opened to him. For the whole day he has been circling about in capricious flights, from tower to tower and from tree to tree. Every attempt has been made in vain to lure him back, by scattering grain upon the roofs; he seems to have Icet all thought of home, of his tender helpmate and his callow young. To add to the anxiety of Dolores, he has been joined by two palomas ladrones, or robber pigeons, whose instinct it 40 THE ALHAMBRA. is to entice wandering pigeons to their own dove-cotes. The fugitive, like many other thoughtless youths on their first launching upon the world, seems quite fascinated with these knowing, hut graceless, companions, who have undertaken to show him life and introduce him to society. He has heen soaring with them over aU the roofs and steeples of Granada. A thunder shower has passed over the city, but he has not sought his home ; night has closed in, and stiU he comes not. To deepen the pathos of the afEair, the female pigeon, after remaining several hours on the nest without being relieved, at length went forth to seek her recreant mate ; but stayed away so long that the young ones perished for want of the warmth and shelter of the parent bosom. At a late hour in the evening, word was brought to Dolores that the truant bird had been seen upon the towers of the Gren- eraliffe. Now, it so happens that the Administrador of that ancient palace has likewise a dove-cote, among the imnates of which are said to be two or three of these iuveighng birds, the terror of aU neighbouring pigeon fanciers. Dolores imihedi- ately concluded that the two feathered sharpers who had been seen with her fugitive, were these bloods of the Greneraliffe. A council of war was forthwith held in the chamber of Tia An- tonia. The Greneraliffe is a distinct jurisdiction from the Alhambra, and of course some punctOio, if not jealousy, exists between their custodians. It was determined, therefore, to send Pepe, the stuttering lad of the gardens, as ambassador to the Administrador, requesting that if such fugitive should be found in his dominions, he might be given up as a subject of the Alhambra. Pepe departed, accordingly, on his diplomatic expedition, through the moonlit groves and avenues, but returned in an hour with the afiOicting iutelUgence that no such bird was to be found in the dove-cote of the Generaliffe. The Administrador, however, pledged his sovereign word, that if such vagrant should appear there, even at midnight, he should instantly be arrested and sent back prisoner to his little black-eyed mistress. Thus stands this melancholy affair, which has occasioned much distress throughout the palace, and has sent the incon- solable Dolores to a sleepless pillow. " Sorrow endureth for a night," says the proverb, "but joy ariseth in the morning." The first object that met my eyes on. leaving my room this morning was Dolores with the truant pigeon in her hand, and her eyes sparkling with joy. He had THE AUTHOR'S CEAMSER. 41 appeared at an early hoiir on the battlements, hovering shyly about from roof to roof, but at length entered the window and surrendered hunself prisoner. He gained Httle credit, how- ever, by his return, for the ravenous maimer in which he devoured the food set before him, showed that, like the prodi- gal son, he had been driven home by sheer famine. Dolores upbraided him for his faithless conduct, calling him aU manner of vagremt names, though woman-like, she fondled him at the same time to her bosom and covered him with kisses. I ob- served, however, that she had taken care to chp his wings to prevent all futvu-e soarings ; a precaution which I mention for the benefit of all those who have truant wives or wandering hiisbands. More than one valuable moral might be drawn from the story of Dolores and her pigeon. THE AUTHOR'S CHAMBER. On taking up my abode in the Alhambra, one end of a suite of empty chambers of modem architecture, intended for the residence of the governor, was fitted up for my reception. It was in front of the palace, looking forth upon the esplanade. The farther end commvmiated with a cluster of little chambers, partly Moorish, partly modem, inhabited by Tia Antonia and her famil y These terminated in a large room which serves the good old dame for parlour, kitchen, and hall of audience. It had boasted of some splendour in the time of the Moors, but a fire-place had been built in one comer, the smoke from which had discoloured the walls, nearly obliterated the ornaments, and spread a sombre tint over the whole. From these gloomy apartments, a narrow bUnd corridor and a dark winding staircase led down an angle of the tower of Comares ; groping down which, and opening a small door at the bottom, you are suddenly dazzled by emerging into the brilUant antechamber of the hall of ambassadors, with the foimtain of the court of the Alberca sparkling before you. I was dissatisfied with being lodged in a modem and frontier apartment of the palace, and longed to ensconce myself in the very heart of the building. As I was rambling one day about the Moorish halls, I found, in a remote gallery, a door which I had not before noticed. 42 THE ALSAMBRA. communicating apparently with an extensive apartment, locked up from the public. Here then was a mystery. Here was the haunted wing of the castle. I procured the key, how- ever, without difficulty. The door opened to a range of vadant chambers of European architecture; though built over a Moorish arcade, along the httle garden of lindaraxa. There were two lofty rooms, the ceUings of which were of deep panel- work of cedar, richly and skUfuUy carved with fruits and flowers, intermingled with grotesque masks or faces; but broken in many places. The walls had evidently, in ancient times, been hung with damask, but were now naked, and scrawled over with the insignificant names of aspiring travel- lers ; the windows, which were dismantled and open to wind and weather, looked into the garden of Lindaraxa, and the orange and citron trees flung their branches into the chambers. Beyond these rooms were two saloons, less lofty, looking also into the garden. In the compartments of the panelled ceiUng were baskets of fruit and garlands of flowers, painted by no moan hand, and in tolerable preservation. The walls had also been painted in fresco in the ItaUan style, but the paintings were nearly obliterated. The windows were in the same shattered state as in the other chambers. This fanciful suite of rooms terminated in an open gallery with balustrades, which ran at right angles along another side of the garden. The whole apartment had a dehcacy and elegance in its decorations and there was something so choice and sequestered in its situation, along this retired Uttle garden, that awakened an interest in its history. I foimd, on inquiry, that it was an apartment fitted up by Italian artists, in the early part of the last century, at the time when Philip V. and the beautiful EUzabetta of Parma were expectjd at the Albambra; and was destined for the queen and the ladies of her train. One of the loftiest chambers had been her sleeping room, and a narrow staircase leading from it, though* now , walled up, opened to the deMghtful belvedere, originally a mirador of the Moorish sultanas, but fitted up as a boudoir for the fair Elizabetta, and which stiU retains the name of the Tocador, or toUette of the queen. The sleeping room I have mentioned, commanded from one window a prospect of the Generaliffe, and its embowered terraces; under another win- dow played the alabaster fountain of the garden of Lindaraxa. That garden carried my thoughts still farther back, to the period of another reign of beauty ; to the days of the Moorish THK AUTHORS CUA:irBER. 43 sultanas. "How beauteous is this garden!" says an Arabic inscription, "where the flowers of the earth vie with the stars of heaven 1 what can compare with the vase of yon alabaster fountain filled with crystal water? Nothing but the moon in her fulness, shining in the midst of an unclouded sky !" Centuri^ had elapsed, yet how much of this scene of appa- rently fragile beauty remained ! The garden of Lindaraxa was still adorned with flowers; the fountain still presented its crystal mirror: it is true, the alabaster had lost its whiteness, and the basin beneath, overrun with weeds, had become the nestling place of the lizard; but there was something in the very decay that enhanced the interest of the scene, speaking, as it did, of that mutability which is the iiTevocable lot of man and all his works. The desolation, too, of these chambers, once the abode of the proud and elegant Elizabetta, had a more touching charm for me than if I had beheld them in their pristine splendour, ghttering with the pageantry of a court — I determined at once to take up my quarters in this apartment. My determination excited great surprise in the family ; who could not imagine any national inducement for the choice of so solitary, remote and forlorn an apartment. The good Tia Antonia considered it highly dangerous. The neighbourhood, nhe said, was infested by vagrants ; the caverns of the adjacent hills swarmed with gipsies ; the palace was ruinous and easy to bo entered in many parts; and the rumour of a stranger quartered alone in one of the ruined apartments, out of the hearing of the rest of the inhabitants, might tempt unwelcome visitors in the night, especially as foreigners are always sup- posed to be well stocked with money. Dolores represented the frightful loneUness of the place; nothing but bats and owls flitting about ; then there were a fox and a wild cat that kept about the vaults and roamed about at night. I was not to bo diverted from my humour, so calling in, the assistance of a carpenter, and the ever oflBcious Mateo' Ximenes, the doors and windows were soon placed in a state' of tolerable security. With all these precautions, I must confess the first night I passed in these quarters was inexpressibly dreary. I was escorted by the whole family to my chamber, and there taking leave of me, and retiring along the waste antechamber and echoing galleries, reminded me of those hobgobUn stories, whore the hero is left to accomplish the adventure of a haunted house. 44 THE ALBAMBRA. Soon the thoughts of the fair Blizabetta and the beauties of her court, who had once graced these chambers, now by a per- version of fancy added to the gloom. Here was the scene of their transient gaiety and loveliness; here were the very traces of their elegance and enjoyment; but what and where were they? — Dust and ashes! tenants of the tomb I phantoms of the memory 1 A vague and indescribable awe was creeping over me. I would fain have ascribed it to the thoughts of robbers, awakened by the evening's conversation, but I felt that it was something more imusual and absurd. In a word, the long buried impres- sions of the nursery were reviving and asserting their power over my imagination. Every thing began to be affected by the workings of my mind. The whispering of the wind among the citron trees iieneath my window had something sinister. I cast my eyes into the garden of Lindaraxa ; the groves present- ed a gulf of shadows; the thickets had indistinct and ghastly shapes. I was glad to close the window ; but my chamber it- self became infected. A bat had found its way in, and flitted about my head and athwart my solitary lamp ; the grotesque faces carved in the cedar ceiling seemed to mope and mow at me. Rousing myself, and half smiling at this temporary weak- ness, I resolved to brave it, and, taking lamp in hand, sallied forth to make a tour of the ancient palace. Notwithstanding every mental exertion, the task weis a severe one. The rays of my lamp extended to but a limited distance aroimd me ; I walked as it were in a mere halo of light, and all beyond was thick darkness. The vaiilted corridors were as caverns ; the vaults of the halls were lost in gloom; what unseen foe might not be lurking before or behind me; my own shadow playing about the walls, and the echoes of my own footsteps disturbed me. In this excited state, as I was traversing the great Hall of Ambassadors, there were added real sounds to these conjectural fancies. Low moans and indistinct ejaculations seemed to rise as it were from beneath my feet ; I paused and listened. They then appeared to resomid from without the tower. Sometimes •they resembled the howUngs of an animal, at others they were stifled shrieks, mingled with articulate ravings. The thriUing effect of these sounds in that stiU hour and singular place, de- stroyed all inchnaition to continue my lonely perambulation. I returned to my chamber with more alacrity than I had sallied TUE ALUAMBRA BT MOONLIGHT. 45 •forth, and drew my breath more freely when once more within its walls, and the door bolted behind me. When I awoke in the morning, with the sun shining in at my window, and hghting up every part of the building with its cheerful and truth-telUng beams, I could scarcely i-ecall the shadows and fancies conjured up by the gloom of the preceding night ; or believe that the scenes around me, so naked and ap- parent, could have been clothed with such imaginary horrors. StiU the dismal bowlings and ejaculations I had heard were not ideal ; but they were soon accounted for, by my handmaid Dolores ; bemg the ravings of a poor maniac, a brother of her axmt, who was subject to violent paroxysms, during which he was confined in a vaulted room beneath the HaU of Ambas- sadors. THE ALHAMBEA BY MOONLIGHT. I HAVE given a picture of my apartment on my first taking possession of it; a few evenings have produced a thorough chajige in the scene and in my feelings. The moon, which then was invisible, has gradually gained upon the nights, and now roUs in fuU splendour above the towers, pouring a flood of tempered Mght into every court and hall. The garden beneath my window is gently lighted up; the orange and citron trees are tipped with silver; the fountain sparkles in the moon beams, and even the blush of the rose is faintly visible. I have sat for hours at my window inhaling the sweetness of the garden, and musing on the chequered featm-es of those whose history is dimly shadowed out in the elegant memorials around . Sometimes I have issued forth at midnight when every thing was quiet, and have wandered over the whole building. Who can do justice to a moonhght night in such a climate, and in such a place ! The temperature of an Andalusian mid- night, in summer, is perfectly ethereal. We seem lifted up into a purer atmosphere ; there is a serenity of soul, a buoyancy of spirits, an elasticity of frame that render mere existence enjoyment. The effect of moonlight, too, on the Alhambra has something like enchantment. Every rent and chasm of time every mouldering tint and weather stain disappears; the mar- ble resmnesits original whiteness ; the long colonnades brighten in the moon beams; the halls are illuminated with a softened 46 TRE ALHAMBRA. radiance, until the whole edifice reminds one of the enchanted palace of an Arabian tale. ■ At such time I have ascended to the little pavihon, called the Queen's ToUette, to enjoy its varied and extensive prospect. To the right, the snowy summits of the Sierija Nevada would gleam, like silver clouds against the darker firmament, and all the outlines of the mountain would be softened, yet deUcately defined. My dehght, however, would be to lean over the para- pet of the tocador, and gaze down upon Granada, spread out like a map below me : all buried in deep repose, and its white palaces and convents sleeping as it were in the moonshine. Sometimes I would hear the faint sounds of castanets from some party of dancers lingering in the Alameda; at other times I have heard the dubious tones of a guitar, and the notes of a single voice rising from some sohtary street, and have pictured to myself some youthful cavalier serenading his lady's window ; a gallant custom of former days, but now sadly on the decUne except in the remote towns and villages of Spain. Such are the scenes that have detained me for many an hour loitering about the courts and balconies of the castle, enjoying that mixture of reverie and sensation which steal away exist- ence in a southern climate — ^and it has been almost morning be- fore I have rotirsd to my bed. and been lulled to sleep by the falling waters of the fountain of Lindaraxa. INHABITANTS OF THE ALHAMBEA. I HAVE often observed that the more proudly a mansion has been tenanted in the day of its prosperity, the humbler are its inhabitants in the day of its decline, and that the palace of the king commonly ends in being the nestling place of the beggar. The Alhambra is in a rapid state of similar transition: whenever a tower falls to decay, it is seized upon by some tatterdemalion family, who become joint tenants with the bats and owls of its gilded halls, and hang their rags, those standards of poverty, out of its windows and loop-holes. I have amused myself with remarking some of the motley characters that have thus usurped the ancient abode of royalty, and who seem as if placed here to give a farcical termination to the drama of human pride. One cJf these INHABITANTS OF THE ALHAMBBA. 47 even bears the mockery of a royal title. It is a little old "woman named Mai-ia Antonia Sabonea, but who goes by the appellation 6f la Reyna Cuquina, or the . cockle queen. She is small enough to he a fairy, and a fairy she may be for aught I can find out, for no one seems to know her origin. Her habitation is a kind of closet vmder the outer staircase of the palace, and she sits in the cool stone corri- dor plying her needle and singing from morning tiU night, with a ready joke for every one that passes, for though one of the poorest, she is one of the merriest little women breathing. Her great merit is a gift for story -teUing ; having, I verily beUeve, as many stories at her command as the inex- haustible Seheherezade of the thousand and one nights. Some of these I have heard her relate in the evening tertulias of Dona Antonia, at which she is occasionally an humble attend- ant. That there must be some fairy gift about this mysterious little old woman, would appear from her extraordinary luck, since, notwithstanding her being very little, very ugly, and very poor, she has had, according to her own account, five husbands and a half; reckoning as a half, one, a young dragoon who died during courtship. A rival personage to this little fairy queen is a portly old fellow with a bottle nose, who goes about in a rusty garb, with a cocked hat of oil skin and a red cockade. He is one of the legitimate sons of the Alhambra, and has lived here-aU his life, filling various offices ; such as Deputy AlguazU, sexton of the parochial church, and marker of a fives court estab- lished at the foot of one of the towers. He is as poor as a rat, but as proud as he is ragged, boasting of his descent from the illustrious house of Aguilar, from which sprang Gonsalvo of Cordova, the G-rand Captain. Nay, he actually bears the name of Alonzo de Aguilar, so renowned in the history of the con- quest, though the graceless wags of the fortress have given him the title of el Padre Santo, or the Holy Father, the usual ^peUation of the pope, which I had thought too sacred in the eyes of true cathoUcs to be thus ludicrously apphed. It is a w^himsical caprice of fortune, to present in the grotesque person of this tatterdemalion a namesake and descendant of the proud Alonzo de Aguilar, the mirror of Andalusian chivalry, leading an almost mendicant existence about this once haughty fortress, which his ancestor aided to reduce; yet such might have been the lot of the descendants of Aga- 48 THE ALHAMBRA. menmon and Achilles, had they lingered about the ruins of Troy. Of this motley community I find the family of my gossiping squire Mateo Ximenes to form, from their numbers at least, a very important part. His boast of being a son of the Alhambra is not unfounded. This family has inhabited the fortress ever since the time of the conquest, handing down a hereditary poverty from father to son, not one of them having ever been known to be worth a marevedi. His father, by trade a riband weaver, and who succeeded the historical tailor as the head of the family, is now near seventy years of age, and hves in a hovel of reeds and plaster, built by his own hands, just above the u-on gate. The furniture consists of a crazy bed, a table, and two or three chairs; a wooden chest, containing his clothes, and the archives of his family ; that is to say, a few papers concerning old law-suits which he cannot read; but the pride of his heart is a blazon of the arms of the family, brUUantly coloured and suspended in a frame against the wall, clearly demonstrating by its quarterings the various noble houses with which this poverty-stricken brood claim affinity. As to Mateo himself, he has done his utmost to perpetuate his Hne ; having a wife, and a numerous progeny who inhabit an almost dismantled hovel in the hamlet. How they manage to subsist, He only who sees into all mysteries can tell — the subsistence of a Spanish family of the kind is always a riddle to me ; yet they do subsist, and, what is more, appear to enjoy their existence. The wife takes her holyday stroU in the Paseo of Granada, with a child in her arms, and half a dozen at her heels, and the eldest daughter, now verging into womanhood, dresses her hair with flowers, and dances gaily to the cas- tanets. There are two classes of people to whom life seems one long holyday, the very rich and the very poor; one because they need do nothing, the other because they have nothing to do ; but there are none who imderstand the art of doing nothing and Uving upon nothing better than the poor classes of Spain. Climate does one half and temperament the rest. Give a Spaniard the shade in summer, and the sun in winter, a httle bread, garhc, oil and garbanzos, an old brown cloak and a guitar, and let the world roll on as it pleases. Talk of poverty, with him it has no disgrace. It sits upon him with a gran- dioso style, like his ragged cloak. He is a hidalgo even when in rags. THE BALCONY. 49 Tlie "Sons of the Alhambra" are an eminent illustration of this practical philosophy. As the Moors imagined that the celestial paradise hung over this favoured spot, so I am in- chned, at times, to fancy that a gleam of the golden age still hngers about this ragged community. They possess nothiag, they do nothing, they care for nothing. Tet, though ap- parently idle aU the week, they are as observant of aU holy- days and saints' days as the most laborious artisan. They attend aU fetes and dancings in Granada and its' vicinity, Ught bon-firos on the hills on St. John's eve, and have lately danced away the moonlight nights, on the harvest home of a small field of wheat within the precincts of the fortress. Before concluding these remarks I must mention one of the amusements of the place which has particularly struck me. I had repeatedly observed a long, lean fellow perched on the top of one of the towers manoeuvring two or three fishing rods, as though he was angling for the stars. I was for some time per- plexed by the evolutions of this aerial fisherman, and my per- plexity increased on observing others employed in like manner, on different parts of the battlements and bastions ; it was not until I consulted Mateo Ximenes that I solved the mystery. It seems that the pure and aii-y situation of this fortress has rendered it, like the castle of Macbeth, a prolific breeding-place for swallows and martlets, who sport about its towers in myriads, with the holyday glee of urchins just let loose from school. To entrap these birds in their giddy circhngs, with hooks baited with flies, is one of the favourite amuse- ments of the ragged "Sons of the Alhambra," who, with the •good-for-nothing ingenuity of arrant idlers, have thus invented the art of angling in the sky. THE BALCONY. In the Hall of Ambassadors, at the central window, there is a balcony of which I have already made mention. It projects like a cage from the face of the tower, high in mid-air, above the tops of the trees that grow on the steep hill-side. It an- swers me as a kind of observatory, where I often take my seat to consider, not merely the heavens above, but the "earth beneath. " Beside the magnificent prospect which it commands, of moxmtain, valley, and Vega, there is a busy little scene of 50 TEE ALHAMBBA. human life laid open to inspection immediately below. At the foot of the hill is an alameda or public walk, which, though not so fashionable as the more modern and splendid paseo of the Xenil, still boasts a varied and picturesque concourse, especially on holydays and Sundays. Hither resort the small gentry of the suburbs, together with priests and friars who walk for appe- tite and digestion; majos and majas, the beaux and belles of the lower classes in their Andalusian dresses ; swagging contraban- distas, and sometimes half-muffled and mysterious loungers of the higher ranks, on some silent assignation. It is a moving picture of Spanish life which I delight to study ; and as the naturalist has his microscope to assist him in his curious investigations, so I have a small pocket telescope which brings the countenances of the motley groups so close as almost at times to make me thiak I can divine their conversa- tion by the play and expression of their features. I am thus, in a manner, an invisible observer, and without quitting my solitude, can throw myself in an instant into the midst of society— a rare advantage to one of somewhat shy and quiet habits. Then there is a considerable suburb lying below the Alham- bra, filling the narrow gorge of the valley, and extending up the opposite hiU of the Albaycin. Many of the houses are built in the Moorish style, round patios or courts cooled by fountains and open to the sky ; and as the inhabitants pass much of their time in these courts and on the terraced roofs during the summer season, it follows that many a glance at their domestic life may be obtained by an aerial spectator like myself, who can look down on them from the clouds. I enjoy, in some degree, the advantages of the student in the famous old Spanish story, who beheld all Madrid unroofed for his inspection ; and my gossipping squire Mateo Ximenes offi- ciates occasionally as my Asmodeus, to give me anecdotes of the different mansions and their inhabitants. I prefer, however, to form conjectural histories for myself ; and thus can sit up aloft for hours, weaving from casual inci- dents and indications that pass under my eye, the whole tissue of schemes, intrigues and occupations, carrying on by certain of the busy mortals below us. There is scarce a pretty face or striking figure that I daily see, about which I have not thus gradually framed a dramatic story; though some of my characters will occassionaUy act in direct opposition to the part assigned them, and disconcert my whole drama. THE BALCONY. 51 A few days since as I was reconnoitring with my glass the streets of the Albaycin, I beheld the procession of a novice about to take the veil ; and remarked various circinnstances that excited the strongest sympathy in the fate of the youth- ful being thus about to be consigned to a living tomb. I ascer- tained, to my satisfaction, that she was beautiful ; and, by the paleness of her cheek, that she was a victim, rather than a votary. She was arrayed in bridal garments, and decked with a chaplet of white flowers ; but her heart evidently re- volted at this mockery of a spiritual union, and yearned after its earthly loves. A tail stern-looking man walked near her in the procession ; it was evidently the tyrannical father, who, from some bigoted or sordid motive, had compelled this sacrifice. Amidst the crowd was a dark, handsome youth, in Andalusian garb, who seemed to fix on her an eye of agony. It was doubt- less the secret lover from whom she was for ever to be sepa- rated. My indignation rose as I noted the malignant exulta- tion paiated ia the countenances of the attendant monks and friars. The procession arrived at the chapel of the convent ; the sun gleamed for the last time upon the chaplet of the poor novice as she crossed the fatal threshold and disappeared from sight. The throng poured in with cowl and cross and minstrelsy. The lover paused for a moment at the* door ; I cotdd understand the tumult of his f eehngs, but he mastered them and entered. There was a long interval — I pictured to myself the scene pass- ing within. — The poor novice despoiled of her transient finery — clothed in the conventual garb; the bridal chaplet taken from her brow; her beautiful head shorn of its long silken tresses — I heard her murmur the irrevocable vow — I saw her extended on her bier ; the death pall spread over ; the funeral service performed that proclaimed her dead to the world ; her sighs were drowned in the wailing anthem of the mms and the sepulchral tones of the organ — the father looked, unmoved, without a tear — the lover — no— my fancy refused to portray the anguish of the lover — there the picture remained a blank. — The ceremony was over : the crowd again issued forth to be- hold the day and mingle in the joyous stir of life— but the victim with her bridal chaplet was no longer there— the door of the convent closed that secured her from the world for ever. I saw the father and the lover issue forth — they were in ear- nest conversation — ^the young man was violent in his gestures, when the waU of a house intervened and shut them from mv eight. 52 TEE ALHAMBRA. That evening I noticed a solitary light twinkling from a re- mote lattice of the convent. There, said I, the unhappy novice sits weeping in her cell, while her lover paces the street below in unavailing anguish. — The officious Mateo interrupted my meditations and de- stroyed, in an instant, the cobweb tissue of my fancy. With his usual zeal he had gathered facts concemiag the scene that had interested me. The heroine of my romance was neither young nor handsome— she had no lover — she had entered the convent of her own free will, as a respectable asylum, and was one of the cheerf ulest residents within its walls ! I felt at first half vexed with the nun for being thus happy in her cell, in contradiction to aU the rules of romance ; but diverted my spleen by watching, for a day or two, the pretty coquetries of a dark-eyed brunette, who, from the covert of a balcony shrouded with floweriag shrubs and a silken awning, was carrying on a mysterious correspondence with a hand- some, dark, well-whiskered cavalier in the street beneath her window. Sometimes I saw him at an early hour, stealing forth, wrapped to the eyes in. a mantle. Sometimes he loitered at the comer, in various disguises, apparently waiting for a private signal to sMp into the bower. Then there was a tink- ling of a guitar at night, and a lantern shifted from place to place in the balcony. I imagined another romantic intrigue like that of Almaviva, but was again disconcerted in all my suppo- sitions hy being informed that the supposed lover was the husband of the lady, and a noted contrabandista, and that all his mysterious signs and movements had doubtless some smug- gling scheme in view. Scarce had the gray dawn streaked the sky and the earKest cock crowed from the cottages of the hiU-side, when the suburbs gave sign of reviving animation ; for the fresh hours of dawning are precious in the summer season in a sultry climate. All are anxious to get the start of the sun in the business of the day. The muleteer drives forth his loaded train for the journey ; the traveller slings his carbine behind his saddle and mounts his steed at the gate of the hostel The brown peasant urges his loitering donkeys, laden with pan- niers of sunny fruit and fresh dewy vegetables ; for already the thrifty housewives are hastening to the market. The sun is up and sparkles along the valley, topping the transparent fohage of the groves. The matin bells resound melodiously thi-ough the pure bright air, announcing the hour TEE BALCONY. 53 of devotion. The muleteer halts his burdened animals before the chapel, thrusts his stafE through his belt behind, and enters with hat in hand, smoothiag his coal black hair, to hear a mass and put up a prayer for a prosperous wayfaring across the Sierra. And now steals forth with fairy foot the gentle Seaora, in trim busquina ; with restless fan in hand and dark eye flash- ing from beneath her gracefully folded mantilla. She seeks some well frequented church to ofEer up her orisons ; but the nicely adjusted dress ; the dainty shoe and cobweb stocking ; the raven tresses scrupulously braided, the fresh plucked rose that gleams among them like a gem, show thai earth divides with heaven the empire of her thoughts. As the morning advances, the diu of labour au.5ments on every side ; the streets are thronged with man and steed, and beast of burden ; the universal movement produces a hum and murmur Kke the surges of the ocean. As the sun ascends to his meridian the hmn and bustle gradually decline; at the height of noon there is a pause ; the panting city sinks into lassitude, and for several hours there is a general repose. The windows are closed; the curtains drawn; the inhabitants retired into the coolest recesses of their mansions. The full- fed monk snores in his dormitory. The brawny porter Hes stretched on the pavement beside his burden. The peasant and the laboiu-er sleep beneath the trees of the Alameda, lulled by the sultry chirping of the locust. The streets are deserted except by the water carrier, who refreshes the ear by proclaiming the merits of his sparkhng beverage, — "Colder than mountain snow." As the sun dechnes, there is again a gradual reviving, and wnen the vesper bell rings out his sinking kneU, all nature seems to rejoice that the tyrant of the day has fallen. Now begins the bustle of enjoyment. The citizens pour forth to breathe the evening air, and revel away the brief twilight in the walks and gardens of the Darro and the Xenil. As the night closes, the motley scene assumes new features. Light after light gradually twinkles forth ; here a taper from a balconied window ; there a votive lamp before the image of a saint. Thus by degrees the city emerges from the pervading ploom, and sparkles with scattered lights hke the starry firmament. Now break forth from court, and garden, and street, and lane, the tinkling of innumerable guitars and the cUcking of castanets, blending at this lofty height, in a faint 54 THE ALHAMBRA. and general concert. " Enjoy the moment," is the creed of the gay and amorous Andalusian, and at no time does he practise it more zealously than in the halmy nights of sum- mer, wooing his mistress with the dance, the love ditty and the passionate serenade. I was seated one evening in the balcony enjoying the light breeze that came rustling along the side of the hill among the tree-tops, when my humble liistoriographer, Mateo, who was at my elbow, pointed out a spacious house in an obscure street of the Albaycin, about which he related, as nearly as I can recollect, the following anecdote. THE ADVENTURE OF THE MASON. There was once upon a time a poor mason, or bricklayer, in Granada, who kept all the saints' days and holydays, and saint Monday into the bargain, and yet, with all his devotion, he grew poorer and poorer, and could scarcely earn bread for his numerous family. One night he was roused from his first sleep by a knocking at his door. He opened it and beheld before him a tall, meagre, cadaverous-looking priest. "Hark ye, honest friend," said the stranger, "I have observed that you are a good Christian, and one to be trusted; wiQ you imdertake a job this very night?" "With all my heart, Senor Padre, on condition that I am paid accordingly." "That you shall be, but you must suffer yourself to be bKndfolded." To this the mason made no objection ; so being hoodwinked, he was led by the priest through various rough lanes and winding passstges until they stopped befoi-e the portal of a house. The priest then apphed a key, turned a creaking lock and opened what sounded like a ponderous door. They en- tered, the door was closed and bolted, and the mason was conducted through an echoing corridor and spacious haU, to an interior part of the building. Here the bandage was re- moved from his eyes, and he found himself in a patio, or court, dimly lighted by a single lamp. In the centre was a dry basin of an old Moorish fountain, under which the priest requested him to form a small vault, bricks and mortar being at hand for the purpose. He accord- THE ADVBNTURIj: of rUE MASON. 55 ingly worked all night, but without finishing the job. Just before daybreak the priest put a piece of gold into his hand, and having again blindfolded him, conducted him back to his dwelhng. "Are you willing," said he, "to return and complete your work?" "Gladly, Senor Padre, provided I am as well paid." " WeU, then, to-morrow at midnight I wiU call again." He did so, and the vaidt was completed. " Now," said the priest, " you must help me to bring forth the bodies that are to be buried in this vault." The poor mason's hair rose on his head at these words ; he followed the priest with trembUng steps, into a retired cham- ber of the mansion, expecting to behold some ghastly spectacle of death, but was reUeved, on perceiving three or four portly jars standing in one comer. They were evidently fuU of money, and it was with great labour that he and the priest caxried them forth and consigned them to their tomb. The vault was then closed, the pavement replaced and aU traces of the work obhterated. The mason was again hoodwinked and led forth by a route different from that by which he had come. After they had wandered for a long time through a perplexed m^aze of lanes and alleys, they halted. The priest then put two pieces of gold into his hand. "Wait here," said he, "until you hear the cathedral bell toU for matins. If you presume to uncover your eyes before that time, evil wiU befaU you." So saying he departed. The mason waited faithfully, amusing himself by weighing the gold pieces in his hand and clinking them against each other. The moment the cathedral bell rung its matin peal, he uncovered his eyes and found himself on the banks of the Xonil ; from whence he made the best of his way home, and revelled with his family for a whole fortnight on the profits of his two nights' work, after which he was as poor as ever. He continued to work a little and pray a good deal, and keep holydays and saints' days from year to year, while his ffi.mily grew up as gaunt and ragged as a crew of gipsies. As he was seated one morning at the door of his hovel, he was accosted by a rich old curmudgeon who was noted for owning many houses and being a griping landlord. The man of money eyed him for a moment, from beneath a pair of shagged eyebrows. 66 TUE ALRAMFUA. " I am told, friend, that you are very poor." " There is no denying the fact, Sen or; it speaks for itself." " I presume, then, you will be glad of a job, and will work cheap." " As cheap, my master, as any mason ia Granada." " That's what I want. I have an old house fallen to decay, that costs me more money than it is worth to keep it ia repair, for nobody will hve in it ; so I must contrive to patch it up and keep it together at as small expense as possible." The mason was accordingly conducted to a huge deserted house that seemed going to ruin. Passing through several empty haUs and chambers, he entered an inner court, where his eye was caught by an old Moorish fountain. He paused for a moment. "It seems," said he, " as if I had been in this place before; but it is hke a dream. ^Pray who occupied this house formerly?" "A pest upon him!" cried the landlord. "It was an old miserly priest, who cared for nobody but himself. He was said to be immensely rich, and, having no relations, it was thought he would leave all his treasure to the church. He died suddenly, and the priests and friars thronged to take .possession of his wealth, but nothing could they find but a few ducats in a leathern purse. The worst luck has fallen on me ; for since his death, the old f eUow continues to occupy my house without paying rent, and there's no taking the law of a dead man. The people pretend to hear at night the chnking of gold all night long in the chamber where the old priest slept, as if he were counting over his money, and sometimes a groan- ing and moaning about the court. Whether true or false these stories have brought a bad name on my house, and not a tenant wiU remain in it." "Enough," said the mason sturdily — "Let me live in your house rent free until some better tenant presents, and I will engage to put it in repair and qmet the troubled spirits that tlistiu-b it. I am a good Christian and a poor man, and am not to be daunted by the devil himself, even though he come in the shape of a big bag of money." The offer of the honest mason was gladly accepted; ho moved with his family into the house, and fulfilled all his en- gagements. By httle and little he restored it to its former state. The clinking of gold was no longer heard at night in the chamber of the defunct priest, but began to be heard by daj' in the pocket of the living mason. In a word, he in- A RAMBLE AMONG THE BILLS. 57 creased rapidly in wealth, to the admiration of all his neigh- bours, and became one of the richest men in Granada. He gave large sums to the church, by way, no doubt, of satisfying bis conscience, and never revealed the secret of his wealth until on his deathbed, to his son and heir. A RAMBLE AMONG THE HILLS. I FEEQUENTLT amuse myself towards the close of the day, when the heat has subsided, with taking long rambles about the neighbouring bill s and the deep umbrageous valleys, accompanied by my historiographer Squire Mateo, to whose passion for gossiping, I, on such occasions, give the most un- bounding heense ; and there is scarce a rock or ruin, or broken fountain, or lonely glen, about which he has not some mar- vellous story ; or, above all, some golden legend ; for never was poor devil so munificent in dispensing hidden treasures. A few evenings since we took a long stroll of the kind, in which Mateo was more than usually communicative. It was towards sunset that we saUied forth from the great Gate of Justice, and ascending an alley of trees, Mateo paused under a clump of fig and pomegranate trees at the foot of a huge ruined tower, called the Tower of the Seven Vaults, (de los siete suolos.) Here, pointing to a low archway at the foimdation of the tower, he informed me, in an under tone, was the lurking- place of a monstrous sprite or hobgobhn called the Belludo, which had infested the tower ever since the time of the Moors ; guarding, it is supposed, the treasures of a Moorish king. Sometimes it issues forth in the dead of the night, and scours the avenues of the Alhambra and the streets of Granada in the shape of a headless horse, pursued by six: dogs, with terrific yeUs and howhngs. " But have you ever met with it yourself, Mateo, in any of your rambles?" "No, senor; but my grandfather, the tailor, knew several persons who had seen it ; for it went about much more in his time than at present : sometimes in one shape, sometimes in another. Every body in Granada has heard of the Belludo, tor the old women and nurses frighten the children with it when they cry. Some say it is the spirit of a cruel Moorish 58 TEE ALHAMBRA. king, who killed his six sons, and buried thena ia these vaults, and that they hunt him at nights in revenge." Mateo went on to tell many particulars about this redoubt- able hobgoblin, which has, in fact, been time out of mind a f avoirrite theme of nursery tale and popular tradition in Gra- nada, and is mentioned in some of the antiquated guide-books. When he had finished, we passed on, skirting the fruitful orchards of the Generahffe ; among the trees of which two or three nightingales were pouring forth a rich strain of melody. Behind these orchards we passed a number of Moorish tanks, with a door cut into the rocky bosom of the hiU, but closed up. These tanks Mateo informed me were favourite bathing-places of himself and his comrades in boyhood, until frightened away by a story of a hideous Moor, who used to issue forth from the door in the rock to entrap unwary bathers. Leaving these haunted tanks behind us, we pursued our ramble up a sohtary mule^path that wound among the hills, and soon found ourselves amidst wild and melancholy moun- tains, destitute of trees, and here and there tinted with scanty verdure. Every thing within sight was severe and sterile, and it was scarcely possible to realize the idea that but a short dis- tance behind us was the Generalise, with its blooming or- chards and terraced gardens, and that we were in the vicinity of delicious Granada, that city of groves and fountains. But such is the nature of Spain— wild and stern the moment it escapes from cultivation, the desert and the garden are ever side by side. The narrow defile up which we were passing is called, according to Mateo, el Barranco de la Tinaja, or the ravine of the jar. "And why so, Mateo?" inquired I. "Because, senor, a jar fuU of Moorish gold was found here in old times." The brain of poor Mateo is continually run- ning upon these golden legends. "But what is the meaning of the cross I see yonder upon a heap of stones in that narrow part of the ravine?" ' ' Oh ! that's nothing — a muleteer was murdered there some years since." ' ' So then, Mateo, you have robbers and murderers even at the gates of the Alhambra." ' ' Not at present, senor — that was, formerly, when there used to be many loose fellows about the fortress ; but they've all been weeded out. Not but that the gipsies, who Hvo in A HAMBLE AMONG TEB HILLS. 59 caves in the MU-sides just out of the fortress, are, many of them, fit for any thing; but we have had no murder about here for a long time past. The man who murdered the mule- teer was hanged in the fortress." Oiu- path continued up the barranco, with a bold, rugged height to our left, called the SOla del Moro, or chair of the Moor; from a tradition that the imfortunate Boabdil fled thither during a popular insurrection, and remained all day seated on- the rocky summit, looking mournfully down upon his factious city. We at length arrived on the highest part of the promon- tory above Granada, called the Mountain of the Sun. The evening was approaching; the setting sim. just gUded the lof- tiest heights. Here and there a sohtary shepherd might be descried driving his flock down the decUvities to be folded for the night, or a muleteer and his lagging animals threading some mountain path, to arrive at the city gates before night- fall. Presently the deep tones of the cathedral beU came swell- ing up the defiles, proclaiming the hour of Oracion, or prayer. The note was responded to from the belfry of every church, and from the sweet beUs of the convents among the moun- tains. The shepherd paused on the fold of the hill, the mule- teer in the midst of the road; each took off his hat, and remained motionless for a time, murmuring his evening prayer. There is always something solemn and pleasing in this custom; by which, at a melodious signal, every human being throughout the land, recites, at the same moment, a tribute of thanks to God for the mercies of the day. It diffuses a transient sanctity over the land, and the sight of the sun sinking in aU his glory, adds not a little to the solemnity of the scene. In the present instance, the effect was height- ened by the wild and lonely nature of the place. We were on the naked and broken summit of the haunted Moimtain of the Sim, where ruined tanks and cisterns, and the mouldering foundations of extensive buildings, spoke of former populous- ness, but where all was now silent and desolate. As we were wandering among these traces of old times, Mateo pointed out to me a circular pit, that seemed to pene- trate deep into the bosom of the mountain. It was evidently a deep well, dug by the indefatigable Moors, to obtain their favourite element in its greatest purity. Mateo, however, had a diOEerent story, and much more to his humour. This was, 60 -THE ALIIAMBRA. according to tradition, an entrance to tlie subterranean cav- erns of the mountain, in which Boabdil and Ms court lay bound in magic spell ; and from whence they saUied forth at night, at allotted times, to revisit their ancient abodes. The deepening twilight, which in this chmate is of such short duration, admonished us to leave this haunted ground. As we descended the mountain defiles, there was no longer herdsman or muleteer to be seen, nor any thing to be heard bat our own footsteps and the lonely chirping of the cricket. The shadows of the valleys grew deeper and deeper, until aU was dark around us. The lofty summit of the Sierra Nevada alone retained a lingering gleam of day-light, its snowy peaks glaring against the dark blue firmament; and seeming close to us, from the extreme purity of the atmosphere. "How near the Sierra looks this evening !" said Mateo, "it seems as if you coiild touch it with your hand, and yet it is many long leagues off." "While he was speaking a star ap- peared over the snowy summit of the mountain, the only one yet visible in the heavens, and so pure, so large, so bright and beautiful as to call forth ejaculations of dehght from honest Mateo. ' ' Que lucero hermoso ! — que claro y limpio es ! — ^no pueda ser lucero mas brillante !" — (What a beautiful star ! how clear and lucid ! — no star could be more brilliant !) I have often remarked this sensibility of the conamon people of Spain to the charms of natural objects. The lustre of a star — the beauty or fragrance of a flower — the crystal purity of a fountain, will inspire them with a kind of poetical dehght — and then what euphonious words their magnificent language affords, with which to give utterance to their transports ! "But what hghts are those, Mateo, which I see twinkling along the Sierra Nevada, just below the snowy region, and which might be taken for stars, only that they are ruddy and against the dark side of the mountain?" "Those, Senor, are fires made by the men who gather snow and ice for the supply of Granada. They go up every after- noon with mules and asses, and take turns, some to rest and warm themselves by the fires, while others fiU their panniers with ice. They then set off down the mountain, so as to reach the gates of Granada before sunrise. That Sierra Nevada, Senor, is a 'lump of ice in the middle of Andalusia, to keep it aH cool in summer." A RAMBLE AMONG TUE HILLS. 61 It "was now completely dark ; we were passing througli the barranco where stood the cross of the murdered muleteer, when I beheld a number of lights moving at a distance and ap- parently advancing up the ravine. On nearer approach they proved to be torches borne by a train of uncouth figures ar- rayed in black ; it would have been a procession dreary enough at any time, but was pecuharly so in this wild and solitary place. Mateo drew near, and told me in a low voice that it was a funeral train bearing a corpse to the burying ground among the hills. As the procession passed by, the lugubrious Ught of the torches, falling on the rugged featxrres and funereal weeds of the attendants, had the most fantastic effect, but was perfectly ghastly as it revealed the countenance of the corpse, which, according to Spanish custom, was borne uncovered on an open bier. I remained for some time gazing after the dreary train as it woimd up the dark defile of the mountain. It put mo in mind of the old story of a procession of demons, bearing the body of a sinner up the crater of StromboU. " Ah, Senor," cried Mateo, "I could teU you a story of a pro- cession once seen among these mountains — ^but then you. would laugh at me, and say it was one of the legacies of my grand- father the tailor." " By no means, Mateo. There is nothing I relish more than a marvellous tale." "Well, Senor, it is about one of those very men we have been talking of, who gather snow on the Sierra Nevada. You must know that a great many years since, in my grandfather's time, there was an old fellow, Tio Nicolo by name, who had filled the panniers of his mules with snow and ice, and was returning down the mountain. Being very drowsy, he mounted upon the mule, and, soon falling asleep, went with his head nodding and bobbing about from side to side, while his sure-footed old mule stepped along the edge of precipices, and down steep and broken barrancos just as safe and steady as if it had been on plain ground. At length Tio Nicolo awoke, and gazed about him, and rubbed his eyes— and in good truth he had reason — ^the moon shone almost as bright as day, and he saw the city below him, as plain as yoin- hand, and shining with its white buildings hke a silver platter in the moonshine ; but lord ! Senor ! — it was nothing Mke the city he left a few hours before. Instead of the cathed^^d with its great dome 62 '^'iiE ALHAMBEA. and turrets, and the churches with their spires, and the con- vents with their pinnacles all surmoimted with the blessed cross, he saw nothing but Moorish mosques, and minarets, and cupolas, aU topped off with glittering crescents, such as you see on the Barbary flags. Well, Senor, as you may.sup- pose, Tio Nicolo was mightily puzzled at all this, but while he was gazing down upon the city, a great army came marching up the mountaia ; winding along the ravines, sometimes in the moonshine, sometimes iu the shade. As it drew nigh, he saw that there were horse and foot, all in Moorish armour. Tio Nicolo tried to scramble out of. their way, but his old mvile stood stock still and refused to budge, trembling at the same time like a leaf— for dumb beasts, Senor, are just as much frightened at such things as human beings. Well, Senor, the hobgobhn army came marching by; there were men that seemed to blow trumpets, and others to beat drums and strike cymbals, yet never a sound did they make ; they all moved on without the least noise, just as I have seen painted armies move across the stage in the theatre of Granada, and aU looked as pale as death. At last in the rear of the army, between two black Moorish horsemen, rode the grand inquisi- tor of Granada, on a mule as white as snow. Tio Nicolo won- dered to see him in such company; for the inquisitor was famous for his hatred of Moors, and indeed of all kinds of infidels, Jews and heretics, and used to hunt them out with fire and scourge — however, Tio Nicolo felt himself safe, now that there was a priest of such sanctity at hand. So, making the sign of the cross, he called out for his benediction, when — hombre I he received a blow that sent him and his old mule over the edge of a steep bank, down which they rolled, head over heels, to the bottom. Tio Nicolo did not come to his senses until long after sunrise, when he foimd himself at the bottom of a deep ravine, his mule grazing beside him, and his panniers of snow completely melted. He crawled back to Granada sorely bruised and battered, and was glad to find the city looking as usual, with Christian churches and crosses. When he told the story of his night's adventure, every one laughed at him : some said he had dreamt it all, as he dozed on his mule, others thought it all a fabrication of his own. But what was strange, Senor, and made people afterwards think more seriously of the matter, was, that the grand in- quisitor died within the year. I have often heard my grand- father, the tailor, say that there was more meant by that THE COUnr OF LIONS. 63 hobgoblin army bearing off the resemblance of the priest, than folks dared to surmise." "Then you would insinuate, friend Mateo, that there is a kind of Moorish hmbo, or purgatory, in the bowels of these mountains; to which the padre inquisitor was bime off." " God forbid— Seuor— I know nothing of the matter— I only relate what I heard from my grandfather." By the time Mateo had fiidshed the tale whith I have more succinctly related, and which was interlari3i with many comments, and sptm out with minute details, vre reached the gate of the Alham.bra. THE COURT OF LIONS. The peculiar charna of this old dreamy palace, is its power of calling up vague reveries and picturings of the past, and thus clothing naked realities with the illusions of the memory and the imagination. As I delight to walk in these "vain shadows," I am prone to seek those parts of the Alhambra which are most favourable to this phantasmagoria of the mind ; and none are more so than the Court of lions and its surrounding haUs. Here the hand of time has fallen the lightest, and the traces of Moorish elegance and splendoiu- exist in almost their original brilliancy. Earthquakes have Shaken the foundations of this pile, and rent its rudest towers, yet see — ^not one of those slender columns has been displaced, not an arch of that Ught and fragile colonnade has given way, and all the fairy 'fretwork of these domes, apparently as im- substantial as the crystal fabrics of a morning's frost, yet exist after the lapse of centuries, almost as fresh as if from the hand of the Moslem artist. I write in the midst of these mementos of the past, in the fresh hour of early morning, in the fated hall of the Abencer- rages. The blood-stained foimtain, the legendary monument of their massacre, is before me ; the lofty jet almost casts its dew upon my paper. How difficult to reconcile the ancient tale of violence and blood, with the gentle and peaceful scene around. Every thing here appears calcidated to inspire kind and happy feelings, for every thing is dehcate and beautiful. The very light falls t«ndei-ly from above, through the lantom 64 THE ALHAMBBA. of a dome tinted and •wrought as if by fairy hands. Through the ample and fretted arch of the portal, I behold the Court of Lions, with brilliant sunshine gleaming along its colonnades and sparkling in its fountains. The lively swallow dives iato the court, and then surging upwards, darts away twittering over the roof ; the busy bee toUs humming among the flower- beds, and painted butterflies hover from plant to plant, and flutter up, and sport with each other in the simny air. — It needs but a slight exertion of the fancy to picture some pen- sive beauty of the harem, loitering in these secluded haunts of oriental luxury. He, however, who would behold this scene under an aspect more in unison with its fortunes, let him come when the shadows of evening temper the brightness of the court, and throw a gloom into the surrounding halls, — then nothing can be more serenely melancholy, or more in harmony with the tale of departed grandeur. At such times I am apt to seek the Hall of Justice, whose deep shadowy arcades extend across the upper end of the court. Here were performed, in presence of Ferdinand and Isabella, and their triumphant court, the pompous ceremonies of high mass, on taking possession of the Alhambra. The very cross is stiU to be seen upon the waU, where the altar was erected, and where officiated the grand cardinal of Spain, and others of the highest reUgious dignitaries of the land. I picture to myself the scene when this place was filled with the conquering host, that mixture of mitred prelate, and shorn monk, and steel-clad knight, and silken courtier : when crosses and croziers and reUgious standards were mingled with proud armorial ensigns and the banners of the haughty chiefs of Spain, and flaunted in triumph through these Moslem haUs. I picture to myself Columbus, the future discoverer of a world, taking his modest stand in a remote corner, the humble and neglected spectator of the pageant. I see in imagination the Cathohc sovereigns prostrating themselves before the altar and pouring forth thanks for their victory, while the vaults resound with sacred minstrelsy and the deep-toned Te Deum. The transient illusion is over— the pageant melts from the fancy — monarch, priest, and warrior return into oblivion, with the poor Moslems over whom they exulted. The haU of their triumph is waste and desolate. The bat flits about its twilight vaults, and the owl hoots from the neighboiiring tower of Comares. The Court of the Lions has also its share of super- THE COUUT OF LIONS. 65 natural legends. I have already mentioned the belief in the mummring of voices and clanking of chains, made at night by the spirits of the mvu'dered Abencerrages. Mateo Ximencs, a few evening since, at one of the gatheiings in. Dame An- tonia's apartment, related a fact which happened within the knowledge of his grandfather, the legendary tailor. There was an invalid soldier, who had charge of the Alhambra, to show it to strangers. As he was one evening about twihght passjng through the Court of Lions, he heard footsteps in the Hall of the Abencerrages. Supposing some loungers to be lingering there, he advanced to attend upon them, when, to his astonishment, he beheld four Moors richly dressed, with gilded cuirasses and scimitars, and poniards glittering with precious stones. They were walking to and fro with solemn pace, but paused and beckoned to him. The old soldier, however, took to flight; and could never afterwards be prevailed upon to enter the AJhambra. Thus it is that men sometimes turn their backs upon fortune ; for it is the firm opinion of Mateo ' that the Moors intended to reveal the place where their treas- ures lay buried. A successor to the invalid soldier was more knowing ; he came to the Alhambra poor, but at the end of a year went off to Malaga, bought horses, set up a carriage, and stiU hves there, one of the richest as well as oldest men of the place : all which, Mateo sagely surmises, was in consequence of his finding out the golden secret of these phantom Moors. On entering the Court of the Lions, a few evenings since, I was startled at beholding a turbaned Moor quietly seated near the foimtain. It seemed, for a moment, as if one of the stories of Mateo Ximenes were realized, and some ancient inhabitant of the Alhambra had broken the speU of centuries, and become visible. It proved, however, to be a mere ordinary mortal ; a native of Tetuan in Barbary, who had a shop in the Zacatin of Granada, where he sold rhubarb, trinkets, and perfumes. Ac he spoke Spanish fluently, I was enabled to hold conversation with him, and fovmd him shrewd and intelligent. He told me that he came up the hiU occasionally in the summer, to pass a part of the day in the Alhambra, which reminded him of the old palaces in Barbary, which were buQt and adorned in simi- lar style, though with less magnificence. As we walked about the palace he pointed out several of the Arabic inscriptions, as possesising much poetic beauty. "Ah! Seiior," said he, "when the Moors held Granada, they were a gayer people than they are now-a-days. They thought 66 TEE ALHAMBIiA. only of love, of music, and of poetry. They made stanzas upon every occasion, and set them all to music. He who could make the best verses, and she who had the most tuneful voice, might he sure of favour and preferment. In those days, if any one asked for bread the reply was, ' Make me a couplet ;' and the poorest beggar, if he begged in rhyme, would often be rewarded with a piece of gold." "And is the popular feelLhg for poetry," said I, "entirely lost among you?" "By no means, Senor; the people of Barbary, even those of the lower classes, still make couplets, and good ones too, as in the old time, but talent is not rewarded as it was then : the rich prefer the jingle of their gold to the sound of poetry or music." As he was talking, his eye caught one of the inscriptions that foretold perpetuity to the power and glory of the Moslem monarchs, the masters of the pile. He shook his head and shrugged his shoulders as he interpreted it. "Such might have been the case," said he; "the Moslems might stiU have been reigning in the Alhambra, had not Boabdil been a trai- tor, and given up his capitol to the Christians. The Spanish monarchs would never have been able to conquer it by open, force." I endeavoured to vindicate the memory of_ the unlucky Bo- abdil from this aspersion, and to show that the dissensions which led to the downfall of the Moorish throne, originated in the cruelty of his tiger-heai-ted father; but the Moor would admit of no palliation. "xibul Hassan," said he, "might have been cruel, but he was brave, vigilant, and patriotic. Had he been properly seconded, Granada woidd still have been ours; but his son Boabdil thwarted his plans, crippled his power, sowed treason in his palace, and dissension in his camp. May the curse of God light upon him for his treachery." - With these words the Moor left the Alhambra. The indignation of my turbaned companion agrees with an anecdote related by a friend, who, in the course of a touT_ in Barbary, had an interview with the pasha of Tetuan. The llooi-ish governor was particular in his inquiries about the soil, the climate and resources of Spain, and especially concerning the favoured regions of Andalusia, the delights of Granada and the remains of its royal palace. The replies awakened all those fond recollections, so deeply cherished by the Moors, of BOABDIL EL CHICO. 67 the p6wer and splendour of their ancient empire in Spain. Turning to his Moslem attendants, the pasha stroked his beard, and broke forth in passionate lamentations that such a sceptre should ha'^^e fallen from the sway of true believers. He consoled himself, however, with the persuasion, that the power and prosperity of the Spanish nation were on the de- cline ; that a time would come when the Moors would recon- quer their rightful domains ; and that the day was, perhaps, not far distant, when Mohammedan worship would again be offered up in the mosque of Cordova, and a Mohammedan prince sit on his throne in the Alhambra. Such is the general aspiration and behef among the Moors of Barbary ; who consider Spain, and especially Andalusia, their rightful heritage, of which they have been despoiled by treachery and violence. These ideas are fostered and per- petuated by the descendants of the exiled Moors of Granada, scattered among the cities of Barbary. Several of these reside in Tetuan. preserving their ancient names, such as Paez, and Medina, and refraining from, intermarriage with any families who cannot claim the same high origin. Their vaimted lineage is regarded with a degree of popiilar deference rarely shown in Mohammedan communities to any hereditary distinction ex- cept in the royal Une. These families, it is said, continue to sigh after the terres- trial paradise of their ancestors, and to put up prayers in their mosques on Fridays, imploring Allah to hasten the time when Granada shall be restored to the faithful ; an event to which they look forward as fondly and confidently as did the Chris- tian crusaders to the recovery of the Holy Sepulchre. Nay, it is added, that some of them retain the ancient maps and deeds of the estates and gard^ens of their ancestors at Granada, and even the keys of the houses; holding them as evidences of their hereditary claims, to be produced at the anticipated day of restoration. BOABDIL EL CHICO. My conversation with the Moor in the Court of Lions set me to musing on the singular fate of Boabdil. Never was sur- name more appUcable than that bestowed upon him by his subjects, of " EI Zogoybi, "or, " the unlucky. " His misf ortimes 68 THE ALUAMBRA. began almost in his cradle. In his tender youth he was impris- oned and menaced with death by an inhmnan father, and only escaped through a mother's stratagem ; in after years his life was imbittered and repeatedly endangered by the hostilities of a usurping uncle; his reign was distracted by external inva- sions and internal feuds ; he was alternately the foe, the pris- oner, the friend, and always the dupe of Ferdinand, until conquered and dethroned by the mingled craft and force of that perfidious monarch. An exile from his native land, he took refuge with one of the princes of Africa, and fell ob- scurely in battle fighting in the cause of a stranger. His mis- fortunes ceased not with his death. K Boabdil cherished a desire to leave an honourable name on the historic page, how cruelly has he been defrauded of his hopes ! Who is there that has turned the least attention to the romantic history of the Moorish domination in Spain, without kindling with indigna- tion at the alleged atrocities of Boabdil? Who has not been touched with the woes of his lovely and gentle queen, subjected by him to a trial of hfe and death, on a false charge of infidel- ity? Who has not been shocked by the alleged murder of his sister and her two children, in a transport of passion? Who has not felt his blood boil at the inhuman massacre of the gal- lant Abencerrages, thirty-sis of whom, it is aflBrmed, he caused to be beheaded in the Com't of the Lions? All these charges have been reiterated in various forms ; they have passed into ballads, dramas, and romances, imtU they have taken too thorough possession of the public mind to be eradicated. There is not a foreigner of education that visits the Alham- bra, but asks for the fountain where the Abencerrages were beheaded ; and gazes with horror at the grated gallery where the queen is said to have been confined ; not a peasant of the Vega or the Sierra, but sings the story in rude couplets to the accompaniment of his guitar, while his hearers learn to exe- crate the very name of Boabdil. Never, however, was name more foully and unjustly slan- dered. I have examined all the authentic chronicles and letters written by Spanish authors contemporary with Boab- dil ; some of whom were in the confidence of the Catholic sove- reigns, and actually present in the camp throughout the war; I have examined all the Arabian authorities I coiild get access to through the medium of translation, and can find nothing to justify these dark and hateful accusations. The whole of these tales may be traced to a work commonly BOABDIL EL CHICO. 69 called "The Civil Wars of Granada," containing a pretended history of the feuds of the Zegries and Abencerragea during the last struggle of the Moorish empire. This work appeared originally in Spanish, and professed to be translated from the Arabic by one Gines Perez de Hita, an inhabitant of Murcia. It has since passed into various languages, and Florian has taken from it much of the fable of his Gonsalvo of Cordova. It has, in a great measure, usurped the authority of real his- tory, and is currently believed by the people, and especially the peasantry of Granada. The whole of it, however, is a mass of fiction, mingled with a few disfigured truths, which give it an air of veracity. It bears internal evidence of its falsity, the manners and customs of the Moors being extravagantly mis- represented in it, and scenes depicted totally incompatible with their habits and their faith, and which never could have been recorded by a Mahometan writer. I confess there seems to me something almost criminal in the wilful perversions of this work. Great latitude is imdoubtedly to be allowed to romantic fiction, but there are limits which it must not pass, and the names of the distinguished dead, which belong to history, are no more to be calumniated than those of the illustrious hving. One would have thought, too, that the tmfortunate Boabdil had suffered enough for his justifiable hostUity to Spaniards, by being stripped of his kingdom, with- out having his name thus wantonly traduced and rendered a bye- word and a theme of infamy in his native land, and in the very mansion of his fathers ! It is not intended hereby to afiirm that the transactions im- puted to Boabdil are totally without historic foundation, but as far as they can be traced, they appear to have been the arts of his father, Abtd Hassan, who is represented, by both Chris- tian and Arabian chroniclers, as being of a cruel and ferocious nature. It was he who put to death the cavaliers of the illus- trious line of the Abencerrages, upon suspicion of their being engaged in a conspiracy to dispossess him of his throne. The story of the accusation of the queen of Boabdil, and of her confinement in one of the towers, may also be traced to an incident in the life of his tiger-hearted father. Abul Hassan, in his advanced age, married a beautiful Christian captive of noble descent, who took the Moorish appellation of Zorayda. by whom he had two sons. She was of an ambitious spirit, and anxious that her children should succeed to the crown. For this purpose she worked upon the suspicious temper of the 70 TEE ALHAMBHA. king; inflamiag him with jealousies of his children by his other wives and concubines, -whom she accused of plotting against his throne and hfe. Some of them -were slain by the ferocious father. Ayxa la Horra, the virtuous mother of Bo- abdU, who had once been his cherished favourite, became likewise the object of his suspicion. He confined her and her son in the tower of Comares, and would have sacrificed Boab- dU to his fury, but that his tender mother lowered him from the tower, in the night, by means of the scarfs of herself and her attendants, and thus enabled him to escape to Guadix. Such is the only shadow of a foundation that I can find for the story of the accused and captive queen; and in this it appears that BoabdU was the persecuted instead of the per- secutor. Throughout the whole of his brief, turbulent, and disastrous reign, Boabdil gives evidences of a mild and amiable character. He in the first instance won the hearts of the people by his affable and gracious manners; he was always peaceable, and never inflicted any severity of punishment upon those who occasionally rebelled against him. He was personally brave, but he wanted moral courage, and in times of difficulty and perplexity, was wavering and irresolute. This feebleness of spirit hastened his downfall, while it deprived him of that heroic grace which would have given a grandeur and dignity to his fate, and rendered him worthy of closing the splendid drama of the Moslem domination in Spain. MEMENTOS OF BOABDHi. While my mind was still warm with the subject of the un- fortunate Boabdil, I set forth to trace the mementos connected with his story, which yet exist in this scene of his sovereignty and his misfortunes. In the picture gallery of the Palace of the Generalise, hangs his portrait. The face is mild, handsome and somewhat melancholy, with a fair complexion and yeUow hair ; if it be a true representation of the man, he may have been wavering and im.certain, but there is nothing of cruelty or un- kindness in his aspect. I next visited the dungeon wherein he was confined in his youthful days, when his cruel father meditated his destruction. MEMENTOS OF BOABDIL. 71 * It is a vaulted room in the tower of Comares, under the Hall of Amhassadors. A similar room, separated by a narrow passage, was the prison of his mother, the virtuous Ayxa la Horra. The walls are of prodigious thickness, and the small windows secured by iron bars. A narrow stone gallery, with a low par- apet, extends roimd three sides of the tower just below the windows, but at a considerable height from the ground. From this gaUery, it is presumed, the queen lowered her son with the scarfs of herself and her female attendants, during the dark- ness of night, to the hillside, at the toot of which waited a do- mestic with a fleet steed to boar the prince to the mountains. As I paced this gaUery, my imagiuation pictured the anxious queen leaning over the parapet, and hsteniug, with the throb- bings of a mother's heart, to the last echo of the horse's hoofs, as her son scoured along the narrow valley of the Darro. My next search was for the gate by which Boabdil departed from the Alhambra, when about to surrender his capital. With the melancholy caprice of a broken spirit, he requested of the Cathohc monarchs that no one afterwards might be per- mitted to pass through this gate. His prayer, according to an- cient chronicles, was comphed with, through the sympathy of Isabella, and the gate waUed up. For some time I iaquired in vain for such a portal ; at length my humble attendant, Mateo, learned among the old residents of the fortress, that a ruinous gateway stiU existed, by which, according to tradition, the Moorish king had left the fortress, but which had never been opened within the memory of the oldest inhabitant. He conducted me to the spot. The gateway is in the centre of what was once an immense tower, called la Torre de los Siete Suelos, or, the Tower of the Seven Moors. It is a place famous in the superstitious stories of the neighbourhood, for being the scene of strange apparitions and Moorish enchant- ments. This once redoubtable tower is now a mere wreck, having been blown up with gimpowder, by the French, when thoy abandoned the fortress. Groat masses of the wall lie scattered about, buried in the luxuriant herbage, or overshadowed by vines and fig-trees. The arch of the gateway, though rent by the shock, stiU remains; but the last wish of poor Boabdil has been again, though unintentionally, fulfilled, for the portal has been closed up by loose stones gathered from the ruins, and re- mains impassable. Following up the route of the Moslem monarch as it remains 72 TIIE ALEAMBRA. on record, I crossed on horseback the hill of Les Martyrs, keep- ing along the garden of the convent of the same name, and thence down a rugged ravine, beset by thickets of aloes and Indian figs, and lined by caves and hovels swarming with gip- sies. It was the road taken by Boabdil to avoid passing through the city. The descent was so steep and broken that I was obhged to dismount and lead my horse. Emerging from the ravine, and passing by the Puerta de los MoUnos, (the Gate of the MiUs,) I issued forth upon the public promenade, called the Prado, and pursuing the course of the Xeml, arrived at a small Moorish mosque, now converted into the chapel, or hermitage of San Sebastian. A tablet on the wall relates that on this spot Boabdil surrendered the keys of Granada to the CastUian sovereigns. From thence I rode slowly across the Vega to a village where the family and household of the unhappy king had awaited him ; for he had sent them forward on the preceding night from the Alhambra, that his mother and wife might not participate in his personal humiliation, or be exposed to the gaze of the conquerors. Following on in the route of the melancholy band of royal exiles, I arrived at the foot of a chain of barren, and dreary heights, forming the skirt of the Alpuxarra mountains. From the summit of one of these, the unfortunate Boabdil took his last look at Granada. It bears a name expressive of his sor- rows — La Cuesta de las Lagrimas, (the HiU of Tears.) Beyond it a sandy road winds across a rugged cheerless waste, doubly dismal to the unhappy monarch, as it led to exile ; behind, in the distance, lies the " enamelled Vega," with theXerdl shining among its bowers, and Granada beyond. I spurred my horse to the summit of a rock, where Boabdil uttered his last sorrowful exclamation, as he turned his eyes from taking their farewell gaze. It is still denominated eZ ul- timo suspiro del Moro, (the last sigh of the Moor.) Who can wonder at his anguish at being expelled from such a kingdom and such an abode? With the Alhambra he seemed to be yielding up all the honours of his line, and aU the glories and delights of hfe. It was here, too, that his afliiction was imbittered by the re- proach of his mother Ayxa, who had so often assisted him in times of peril, and had vainly sought to instil into him her own resolute spirit. ' ' You do well, " said she, ' ' to weep as a woman over what you could not defend as a man !" — A speech that THE TOWER OF LAS INFANTAS. ' 73 savours more of the pride of the princess, than the tenderness of the mother. When this anecdote was related to Charles V., by Bishop Guevara, the emperor joined in the expression of scorn at the ■weakness of the wavering Boabdil. "Had I been he, or ho been I," said the haughty potentate,. "I would rather have made this Alhambra my sepulchre, than have hved without a kingdom ia the Alpuxarra. How easy it is for them in power and prosperity to preach heroism to the vanquished ! How Httle can they understand that hfe itseK may rise in value with the unfortunate, when nought but life remains. THE TOWER OF LAS INFANTAS. IN an evening's stroU up a narrow glen, overshadowed by fig-trees, pomegranates, and myrtles, that divides the land of the fortress from those of the Generaliffe, I was struck with the romantic appearance of a Moorish tower in the outer wall of the Alhambra, that rose high above the tree-tops, and caught the ruddy rays of the setting sun. A sohtary window, at a great height, commanded a view of the glen, and as I was regawiing it a young female looked out, with her head adorned with flowers. She was evidently superior to the usual class of people that inhabit the old towers of the fortress; and this sudden and picturesque glimpse of her, reminded me of the descriptions of captive beauties in fairy tales. The fanciful associations of my mind were increased on being informed by my attendant, Mateo, that this was the tower of the princesses, (la Torre de las Infantas,) so called from having been, accord- ing to tradition, the residence of the daughters of the Moorish kings. I have since visited the tower. It is not generally shown to strangere, though well worthy attention, for the interior is equal for beauty of architecture and dehcacy of ornament, to any part of the palace. The elegance of its cen- tral haU with its marble fountain, its lofty arches and richly fretted dome; the arabesques and stucco work of the small, but well-proportioned chambers, though injured by time and neglect, all accord with the story of its being anciently the abode of royal beauty. 74 THE ALEAMBRA. The little old fairy queen who lives under the staircase of the Alhambra, and frequents the evening tertuhas of Dame Antonia, teUs some fancifid traditions about three Moorish princesses who were once shut up in this tower by their father, a tyrant king of Granada, and were only permitted to ride out at night about the hills, when no one was permitted to come in their way, under pain of death. They stUl, according to her account, may be seen occasionally when the moon is in the full, ridiag in lonely places along the raountain side, on pal- freys richly caparisoned, and sparkling with jewels, but they vanish on being spoken to. —But before I relate any thing farther respecting these prin- cesses, the reader may be anxious to know something about the fair inhabitant of the tower with her head drest with flowers, who looked out from the lofty window. She proved to be the newly married spouse of the worthy adjutant of invalids; who. though well stricken in years, had had the courage to take to his bosom a young and buxom Andalusian damsel. May the good old cavalier be happy in his choice, and find the tower of the Princesses a more secure residence for female beauty than it seems to have proved in the time of the Moslems, it we may beUeve the following legend. THE HOUSE OF THE WEATHERCOCK. On the brow of the lofty lull of the Albaycin, the highest part of the city of Granada, stand the remains of what was once a royal palace, founded shortly after the conquest of Spain by the Arabs. It is now converted .into a manufactory, and has fallen into such obscurity that it cost me much trouble to find it, notwithstanding that I had the assistance of the sagacious and all-knowing Mateo Simenes. This edifice stO bears the name by which it has been known for centuries, namely, la Casa del GaUo de Viento ; that is, the House of the Weathercock. It was so called from a bronze figure of a warrior on horse- back, armed with shield and spear, erected on one of its tur- rets, and turning with every wind; bearing an Arabic motto, which, translated into Spanish, was as follows: TUB LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTBOLOGEE. 75 Dioi el Sabio Aben Habuz Que asi se defiende el Anduluz. In this way, says Aben Habuz the wise, The Andaiusiau his foe defies. This Aben Habuz was a captain who served in the invading army of Taric, and was left as alcayde of Granada. He is supposed to have intended this warlike effigy as a perpetual memorial to the Moorish iahabitants, that surrounded as they were by foes, and subject to sudden invasion, their safety depended upon being always ready for the field. Other traditions, however, give a different account of this Aben Habuz and his palace, and aflSrm that his bronze horse- man was originally a talisman of great virtue, though in after ages it lost its magic properties and degenerated into a weath- ercock. The foUowing are the traditions alluded to. THE LEGEND OF THE AEABIAN ASTROLOGER. In old times, many hundred years ago, there was a Moorish Idng named, Aben Habuz, who reigned over the kingdom of Granada. He was a retired conqueror, that is to say, one who, having in his more youthful days led a life of constant foray and depredation, now that he was grown old and super- annuated, "languished f.>r repose," and desired nothing more than to live at peace with all the world, to husband his laurels, and to enjoy in quiet the possessions he had wrested from his neighbours. It so happened, however, that this most reasonable and pacific old monarch had young rivals to deal with — princes full of his early passion for fame and fighting, and who had some scores to settle which he had run up with their fathers ; he had also some turbulent and discontented districts of his own teiTitories among the Alpuxarra mountains, which, during the days of his vigoiu-, he had treated with a high hand ; and which, now that he languished for repose, were prone to rise in rebellion and to threaten to march to Granada and drive biTn from his throne. To make the matter worse, as Granada is surrounded by wild and craggy mountains which hide the approach of an enemy, the unfortunate Aben Habuz was kept in a constant state of vigilance and alarm, not knowing in what quarter hostOitics might break out. 76 THE A LRAMBRA. It was in vain that he built watch-towers on the mountains and stationed guards at every pass, with orders to make fires by night, and smoke by day, on the approach of an enemy. His alert foes would baffle every precaution, and come break- ing out of some unthought-of defile, — ^ravage his lands beneath his very nose, and then make ofE with prisoners and booty to the mountains. Was ever peaceable and retired conqueror in a more uncomfortable predicament ! While the pacific Aben Habuz was harassed by these per- plexities and molestations, an ancient Arabian physician ar- rived at his court. His gray beard descended to his girdle, and he had every mark of extreme age, yet he had travelled almost the whole way from Egypt on foot, with no other aid than a staff marked with hieroglyphics. His fame had pre- ceded him. His name was Ibrahim Ebn Abu Ayub ; he was said to have Uved ever since the days of Mahomet, and to be the son of Abu Ayub, the last of the companions of the prophet. He had, when a child, followed the conquering army of Amru into Egypt, where he had remained many years studying the dark sciences, and particularly magic, among the Egyptian priests. It was moreover said that he had found out the secret of prolonging life, by means of which he had arrived to the great age of upwards of two centuries ; though, as he did not discover the secret until weU stricken in years, he could only perpetuate his gray hairs and wrinkles. This wonderful old man was very honourably entertained by the king; who, like most superemnuated monarchs, began to take physicians into great favour. He would have assigned him an apartment in his palace, but the astrologer preferred a cave in the side of the hill, which rises above the city of Gran- ada, being the same on which the Alhambra has since been biiilt. He caused the cave to be enlarged so as to form a spacious and lofty hall with a circular hole at the top, through which, as through a well, he could see the heavens and behold the stars even at mid-day. The wall of this hall were covered with Egyptian hieroglyphics, with cabalistic symbols, and with the figures of the stars in their signs. This hall he furnished with many implements, fabricated under hip. direction by cun- ning artificers of Granada, but the occult properties of which were only known to himself. In a little while the sage Ibra- him became the bosom counsellor of the king, to whom he ap- pHed for advice in every emergency. Aben Habuz was once inveighing against the injustice of his neighbom-s, and bewail- THE LEGEND OF TEE AMABIAN ASTROLOGER. 77 ing tlie restless vigilance he had to observe to guard himself against their invasions ; — when he had finished, the astrologer remained silent for a moment, and then rephed, "Know, O king, that when I was in Egypt I beheld a great marvel devised by a pagan priestess of old. On a mountain above the city of Borsa, and overlooking the great valley of the NUe, was a figure of a ram, and above it a figure of a cock, both of molten braas and turning upon a pivot. Whenever the country was threatened with invasion, the ram would turn in the direction of the enemy and the cock would crow ; upon this the inhabi- tants of the city knew of the danger, and of the quarter from which it was approaching, and could take timely notice to guard against it." "God is grcEit!" exclaimed the pacific Aben Elabiiz ; "what a treasin-e woiild be such a ram to keep an eye upon theco mountains around me, and then such a cock to crow in time of danger 1 Allah Achbar! how securely I might sleep in my palace with such sentiuels on the top 1" ' ' Listen, O king, " continued the astrologer gravely. ' ' When the victorious Amru (God's peace be upon him !) conquered tho city of Borsa, this talisman was destroyed; but I was present, and examined it, and studied its secret and mystery, and can make one of hke, and even of greater virtues." " O wise son of Abu Aynb," cried Aben Habuz, "better were such a talisman than all the watch-towers on the hiUs, and sentinels upon the borders. Give me such a safeguard, and the riches of my treasury are at thy command." The astrologer immediately set to work to gratify the wishes of the monarch ; shutting himself up in his astrological hall, and exerting the necromantic arts he had learnt in Egypt, he summoned to his assistance the spirits and demons of the NUe. By his command they transported to his presence a mummy from a sepulchral chamber in the centre of one of the Pyra-, mids. It was the mummy of the priest who had aided by magic art in rearing that stupendous pUe. The astrologer opened the outer cases of the mummy, and unfolded its many wrappers. On the breast of the corpse was a book written in Chaldaic characters. He seized it with trembling hand, then returning the mummy to its case, ordered the demons to transport it again to its dark and silent sepulchre in the Pyramid, there to await the final day of resur- rection and judgment. This book, say the traditions, was the book of knowledge 7S TEB ALHAMBRA. given by God to Adam after his fall. It had been handed down from generation to generation, to King Solomon the Wise, and by the aid of the wonderful secrets in magic and art revealed in it, he had built the temple of Jerusalem. How it had come into the possession of the builder of the Pyramids, He only knows who knows all things. Instructed by this mystic volume, and aided by the genii which it subjected to his command, the astrologer soon erected a great tower upon the top of the palace of Aben Habuz, which stood on the brow of the hUl of the Albaycin. The tower was built of stones brought from Egypt, and taken, it is said, from one of the Pyramids. In the upper part of the tower was a circular hall, with windows looking toward every point cf the compass, and before each window was a table, on which was arranged, as on a chess-board, a mimic army of horse and foot, with the effigy of the potentate that ruled in that direction ; aD carved of wood. To each of these tables there was a small lance, no bigger than a bodkin, on which were engraved certain mysterious Chaldaic characters. This hall was kept constantly closed by a gate of brass with a great lock of steel, the key ojc which was in possession of the king. On the top of the tower was a bronze figure of a Moorish horseman, fixed on a pivot, with a shield on one arm, and his lance elevated perpendicularly. The face of this horseman was towards the city, as if keeping guard over it ; but if any foe were at hand, the figure would turn in that direction and would level the lance as if for action. When this talisman was finished, Aben Habuz was all impa- tient to try its virtues ; and longed as ardently for an invasion as he had ever sighed after repose. His desire was soon grati- fied. Tidings were brought early one morning, by the sentinel appointed to watch the tower, that the face of the brazen horse- m.an was turned towards the mountains of Elvira, and that his lance pointed directly against the pass of Lope. • " Let the drums and trumpets sound to arms, and all Gran- ada be put on the alert," said Aben Habuz. "O king," said the astrologer, "let not your city be dis- quieted, nor your warriors called to arms ; we need no aid of force to deliver you from your enemies. Dismiss your attend- ants and let us proceed alone to the secret hall of the tower." • The ancient Aben Habuz mounted the staircase of the tower, leaning on the arm of the stiU more ancient Ibrahim Ebn Abu Ayub. They unlocked the brazen door and entered. The THE LEGEND OF TEE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. 79 ■window that looked towards the pass of Lope was open. "In this direction, "said the astrologer, " Ues the danger — approach, O king, and behold the mystery of the table." King Aben Habuz approached the seeming chess-board, on which were arranged the small wooden effigies ; when lo ! they were aU. in motion. The horses pranced and curveted, the warriors brandished their weapons, and there was a faint sound of drmns and trumpets, and a clang of arms and neigh- ing of steeds, but all no louder, nor more distinct, than the Iium of the bee or summer-fly in the drowsy ear of him who lies at noon-tide in the shade. "Behold, O king," said the astrologer, "a proof that thy en- emies are even now in the field. They must be advancing through yonder mountains by the pass of Lope. Would you produce a panic and confusion amongst them, and cause them to abandon their enterprise and retreat without loss of hfe, strike these effigies with the butt end of this magic lance ; but would you cause bloody feud and carnage among them, strike with the point." , A livid streak passed across the countenance of the pacific Aben Habuz ; he seized the mimic lance with trembling eager- ness, and tottered towards the table ; his gray beard wagged with chuckling exultation. "Son of Abu Ayub," exclaimed he, " I think we wQl have a little blood !" So saying he thrust the magic lance into some of the pigmy effigies, and belaboured others with the butt end; upon which the former fell, as dead, upon the board, and the rest turning upon each other, began, peU-mell, a chance-medley fight. It was with difficulty the astrologer could stay the hand of the most pacific of monarchs, and prevent him from absolutely exterminating his foes. At length he prevailed upon bim to leave the tower, and to send out scouts to the mountains by the pass of Lope. They returned with the intelhgence that a Christian army had advanced through the heart of the Sierra, almost within sight of Granada, when a dissension having broken out among them, they had turned their weapons against each other, and after much slaughter, had retreated over the border. Aben Habuz ,was transported with joy on thus proving the efficacy of the talisman. "At length," said he, "I shall lead a life of tranquillity, and have all my enemies in my power. Oh! wise son of Abu Ayub, what can I bestow on thee in re- ward for such a blessing ?" 80 THE ALBAMBUA. "The wants of an old man and a philosopher, O king, arc few and simple — grant me but the means of fitting up my cave as a suitable hermitage, and I am. content." " How noble is the moderation of the truly wise !" exclaimea Aben Habuz, secretly pleased at the cheapness of the recom^ pense. He summoned his treasurer, and bade him dispense whatever sums might be required by Ibrahim, to complete and furnish his hermitage. The astrologer now gave orders to have various chambers hewn out of the solid rock, so as to form ranges of apartments connected with his astrological haU. These he caused to be furnished with luxurious ottomans and divans ; and the walls to be himg with the richest sUks of Damascus. " I am an old man," said he, "and can no longer rest my bones on stone couches; and these damp walls require covering." He also had baths constructed and provided with all kinds of perfumery and aromatic oils; "for a bath," said he, "is neces- sary to counteract the rigidity of age, and to restore freshness and suppleness to the frame withered by study. " He caused the apartments to be hung with inmimerable silver and crystal lamps, which he filled with a fragrant oil prepared according to a receipt discovered by him in the tombs of Egypt. This oil was perpetual in its nature, and diffused a soft radi- ance like the tempered hght of day. "The light of the sun," said he, "is too garish and violent for the eyes of an old man; and the light of the lamp is more congenial to the studies of a philosopher." The treasurer of King Aben Habuz groaned at the sums daily demanded to fit up this hermitage, and he carried his complaints to the king. The royal word, however, was given — Aben Habuz shrugged his shoulders. — "We must have pa- tience," said he; "this old man has taken his idea of a philo- sophic retreat from the interior of the Pyramids and the vast ruins of Egypt ; but all things have an end, and so will the furnishing of his cavern." The king was in the right ; the hermitage was at length com- plete, and formed a sumptuous subterranean palace. "I am now content," said Ibrahim Ebn Abu Ayub, to the treasurer; "I wiU shut myself up in my cell and devote my time to study. I desire nothing more,— nothing; — except a trifling solace to amuse me at the intervals of mental labour." "Oh! wise Ibrahim, ask what thou wilt; I am bound to fur- nish all that is necessary for thy solitude." THE LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTBOLOOER. 81 "I would fain have then a few dancing women," said the philosopher. "Dancing women!" echoed the treasurer with surprise. "Dancing women," replied the sage, gravely: "a few wiU suffice ; for I am an old man and a philosopher, of simple hab- its and easUy satisfied. Let them, however, be young and fair to look upon— for the sight of youth and beauty is refreshing to old age." While the philosophic Ibrahim Ebn Ayub passed his time thus sagely in his hermitage, the pacific Aben Habuz carried on furious campaigns in effigy in his tower. It was a glorious thing for an old man hke himseK, of quiet habits, to have war made easy, and to be enabled to amuse himseK ia his chamber by, brushing away whole armies like so many swarms of flies. For a time he rioted in the indulgence of his humoiu-s, and even taunted and insulted his neighbours to induce them to make incursions ; but by degrees they grew wary from repeated disasters, until no one ventured to invade his territories. For many months thei bronze horseman remained on the peace estabUshment with his lance elevated in the air, and the worthy old monarch began to repine at the want of his ac- customed sport, and to grow peevish at his monotonous tran- quiUity. At length, one day, the taUsmanic horseman veered suddenly round, and, lowering his lance, made a dead point towards the mountains of Guadix. Aben Habuz hastened to his tower, but the magic table in that direction remained quiet — ^not a single warrior was in motion. Perplexed at the circumstance, he sent forth a troop of horse to scour the mountains and reconnoitre. They returned after three days' absence. Eodovan, the captain of the troop, addressed the king: "We have searched every mountain pass," said he, "but notahehn or spearwas stirring. All that we have found in the course of ovtr foray was a Chris^ tian damsel of surpassing beauty, sleeping at noon-tide beside a fountain, whom we have brought away captive." "A damsel of surpassing beauty!" exclaimed Aben Habuz, his eyes gleaming with animation : "let her be conducted into my presence." "Pardon me, O king!" rephed Eodovan, "but our warfare at present is scanty ; and yields but httle harvest. I had hoped this chance gleaning would have been allowed for my services." ' ' Chance gleaning !" cried Aben Habuz. ' ' What ! — a damsel of surpassing beauty! By the head of my father! it is the 82 THE ALHAMBRA. choice fruits of warfare, only to be garnered up into the royal keeping. — Let the damsel be brought hither instantly." The beautiful damsel was accordingly conducted into his presence. She was arrayed iu the Gothic style, with aU the luxury of ornament that had prevailed among the Gothic Spaniards at the time of the Arabian conquest. Pearls of dazzling whiteness were entwined with her raven tresses ; and jewels sparkled on her forehead, rivalling the lustre of her eyes. Around her neck was a golden chain, to which was suspended a silver lyre which hung by her side. The flashes of her dark refxilgent eye were like sparks of fire on the withered, yet combustible breast of Aben Habuz, and set it iu a flame. The swimmiiig voluptuousness of her gait made his senses reel. "Fairest of women," cried he, with rapture, "who and what art thou?"— " The daughter of one of the Gothic princes who lately ruled over this land. The armies of my father have been destroyed as if by magic among these mountains, he has been driven iato exile, and his daughter is a slave." "Be comforted, beautiful princess — thou art no longer a slave, but a sovereign ; turn thine eyes graciously upon Aben Habuz, and reign over him and his dominions." "Beware, O king," whispered Ibrahim Ebn Abu Ayub; " this may be some spirit conjured up by the magicians of the Groths, and sent for thy undoing. Or it may be one of those northern sorceresses, who assume the most seducing forms to beguile the unwary. Methinks I read witchcraft in her eye, and sorcery in every movement. Let my sovereign beware — this must be the enemy pointed out by the talisman." "Son of Abu Ayub," replied the king, " you are a wise man and a conjuror, I grant — ^but you are little versed in the ways of woman. Li the knowledge of the sex, I will yield to no man ; no, not to the wise Solomon himself, notwithstanding the number of his wives and his concubines. As to this damsel, I see much comfort in her for my old days, even such comfort as David, the father of Solomon, found in the society of Abishag the Shimamite." " Hearken, O king," rejoined the astrologer, suddenly chang- ing his tone — "I have given thee many triiunphs over thy enemies, and by means of my talisman, yet thou hast never given me share of the spoils ; grant me this one stray captive to solace me in my retirement, and I am content." " What 1" cried Aben Habuz, "more women! hast thou not THE LEGEND OP THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER 83 already dancing women to solace thee — -what more wouldst thou desire." " Dancing women, have I, it is true; but I have none that sing; and music is a balm to old age. — This captive, I perceive, beareth a silver lyre, and must be skilled in minstrelsy. Give her to me, I pray thee, to soothe my senses after the toil of study." The ire of the pacific monarch was kindled, and he loaded the philosopher with reproaches. The latter retired iadig- nantly to his hermitage; but ere he departed, he again warned the monarch to beware of his beautiful captive. Where, in fact, is the old man in love that will listen to coun- sel? Aben Habuz had felt the fulFpower of the witchery of the eye, and the sorcery of movement, and the more he gazed, the more he was enamoured. He resigned himself to the full sway of his passions. His only study, was how to render himseM amiable in the eyes of the Gothic beauty. He had not youth, it is true, to recom- mend him, but then he had riches ; and when a lover is no longer young, he becomes generous. The Zacatin of Granada was ransacked for the most precious merchandise of the East. Silks, jewels, precious gems and exquisite perfumes, all that Asia and Africa yielded of rich and rare, were lavished upon the princess. She received all as her due, and regarded them with the indifference of one accustomed to magnificence. All kinds of spectacles and festivities were devised for her enter- tainment; minstrelsy, dancing, tournaments, bull-fights. — Granada, for a time, was a scene of perpetual pageant. The Gothic princess seemed to take a delight in causing expense, as if she sought to drain the treasures of the monarch. There were no bounds to her caprice, or to the extravagance of her ideas. Yet, notwithstanding all this mimificence, the vener- able Aben Habuz could not flatter himself that he had made any impression on her heart. She never frowned on him, it is true, but she had a singular way of baffling his tender ad- vances. Y/henever he began to plead his passion, she struck her silver lyre. There was a mystic charm in the sound : on hearing of it, an irresistible drowsiness seized upon the super annuated lover, he fell asleep, and only woke when the tempo- rary fimaes of passion had evaporated. Still the dream of love had a bewitching power over his senses; so he continued to dream on; while all Granada scoffed at his infatuation, and groaned at the treasures lavished for a song. 84 THE ALIIAKSBA. At length a danger burst over the head of Ahen Habuz, against which his talisman yielded him no warning. A re- bellion broke out in the very heart of his capital, headed by the bold Rodovan. Aben Habuz was, for a time, besieged in his palace, and it was not without the greatest difficulty that he repelled his assailants and quelled the insurrection. He now felt himself compelled once more to resort to the assistance of the astrologer. He found him stOl shut up in his hermitage, chewing the cud of resentment. "O wise son of Abu Ayub," said he, "what thou hast foretold, has, in some sort, come to pass. This Gothic princess has brought trouble and danger upon me." " Is the king then disposed to put her away from him?" said the astrologer with animation. "Sooner would I part with my kingdom!" replied Aben Habuz. " What then is the need of disturbing me in my philosoph- ical retirement?" said the astrologer, peevishly. " Be not angry, O sagest of philosophers. I would fain have one more exertion of thy magic art. Devise some means by which I may be secure from internal treason, as well as out- ward war — some safe retreat, where I may take refuge and be at peace." The astrologer ruminated for a moment, and a subtle gleam, shone from his eye under his busy eyebrows. "Thou hast heard, no doubt, O king," said he, "of the palace and garden of Irem, whereof mention is made in that chapter of the Koran entitled ' the dawn of day.' " "I have heard of that garden, — marvellous things are related of it by the pilgrims who visit Mecca, but I have thought them wild fables, such as those are prone to tell who visit remote regions." " Listen, O king, and thou shalt know the mystery of that garden. In my' younger days I was in Arabia the Happy, tending my father's camels. One of them strayed away fromi the rest, and was lost. I searched for it for several days about the deserts of Aden, until wearied and faint, I laid myself down and slept under a palm tree by the side of a scanty weU. When I awoke, I found myself at the gate of a city. I entered and beheld noble streets and squares and market places, but all were silent and Avithout an inhabitant. I wandered on until I came to a sumptuous palace, with a garden adorned with fountains and fish-ponds; and groves and flowers; and TUB LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOOER. 85 orchards laden with delicious fruit; but stiU no one was to be seen. TTnon which, appalled at this lonehness, I hastened to depart, and, after issuing forth at the gate of the city, I turned to look upon the place, but it was no longer to be seen, nothing but the silent desert extended before my eyes. " In the neighbourhood I met with an aged dervise, learned in the traditions and secrets of the land, and related to him what had befallen me. 'This,' said he, ' is the far-famed gar- den of Irem, one of the wonders of the desert. It only appears at times to some wanderer hke thyself, gladdening him with the sight of towers and palaces, and garden walls overhung with richly laxien fruit trees, and then vanishes, leaving nothing but a lonely desert.— And this is the story of it:— In old times, when this country was inhabited by the AddQes, king Sheddad, the son of Ad, the great grandson of Noah, founded here a splendid city. When it was finished, and he saw its grandeur, his heart was puffed up with pride and arro- gance, and he determined to build a royal palace, with gardens that shovdd rival all that was related in the Koran of the celes- tial paradise. But the curse of heaven feU upon him for his presumption. He and his subjects were swept from the eaxth, and his splendid city, and palace, and garden, were laid under a perpetual speU, that hides them from the human sight, ex- cepting that they are seen at intervals ; by way of keeping his sin in perpetual remembrance.' " This story, O king, and the wonders I had seen, ever dwell in my mind, and, in after years, when I had been in Egypt and made myself master of all kinds of magic spells, I deter- mined to return and visit the garden of Irem. I did so, and found it revealed to my instructed sight. I took possession of the palace of Sheddad, and passed several days in his mock paradise. The genii who watch over the place, were obedient to my magic power, and revealed to me the speUs by which the whole garden had been, as it were, conjured into existence, and by which it was rendered invisible. Such spells, O king, are within the scope of my art. What sayest thou? Wouldst thou have a palace and garden like those of Irem, filled with all manner of delights, but hidden from the eyes of mortals?" " O wise son of Abu Ayub," exclaimed Aben Habuz, trem- bling with eagerness—" Contrive me such a paradise, and ask any reward, even to the half of my kingdom." "Alas," replied the other, " thou knowest I am an old man, and a philosopher, and easUy satisfied ; all the reward I ask, is 86 THE ALEAMBBA. the first beast of burden, -with its load, that shall enter the magic portal of the palace." The monarch gladly agreed to so moderate a stipulation, and the astrologer began his work. On the smnmit of the hQl im- mediately above his subterranean hermitage he caused a great gateway or barbican to be erected ; opening through the centre of a strong tower. There was an outer vestibule or porch with a lofty arch, and within it a portal secured by massive gates. On the key-stone of the portal the astrologer, with his own hand, wrought the figure of a huge key, and on the key-stone of the outer arch of the vestibule, which was loftier than that of the portal, he carved a gigantic hand. These were potent talismans, over which he repeated many sentences in an un- known tongue. When this gateway was finished, he shut himself up for two days in his astrological hall, engaged in secret incantations; on the third he ascended the hiU, and passed the whole day on its summit. At a late hour of the night, he came down and presented himself before Aben Habuz. " At length, O king," said he, "my labour is accomplished. On the summit of the hiU stands one of the most delectable palaces that ever the head of man devised, or the heart of man desired. It contains sumptuous halls and galleries, dehcious gardens, cool fountains and fragrant baths; in a word, the whole mountata is con- verted into a paradise. Like the garden of Ircm, it is pro- tected by a mighty charm, which hides it from the view and search of mortals, excepting such as possess the secret of its taKsmans." "Enough," cried Aben Habua, joyfully; " to-morrow morn- ing, bright and early, we will ascend and take possession." The happy monarch scarcely slept that night. Scarcely had the rays of the sun begun to play about the snowy summit of the Sierra Nevada, when he mounted his steed, and accom- panied only by a few chosen attendants, ascended a steep and narrow road leading up the bill Beside him on a white pal- frey, rode the Gothic princess, her dress sparkliug with jewels, while round her neck was suspended her silver lyre. The astrologer walked on tho other side of the king, assisting his steps with his hieroglyphic staff, for he never mounted steed of any kind. Aben Habuz looked to see the towers of the promised palace brightening above him, and the embowered terraces of its gar- dens stretching along the heights, but as yet, nothing of the THE LEGEND OF THE ARABIAN ASTROLOGER. S7 kind was to be descried. " That is the mystery aztd safeguard of the place," said the astrologer, "nothing can be discerned iintil you have passed the spell-bound gateway, and been put iu possession of the place." As they approached the gateway, the astrologer paused, and pointed out to the king the mystic hand and key carved upon the portal and the arch. "These," said he, "are the tahsmans which guard the entreince to this paradise. Until yonder hand shall reach down and seize that key, neither mortal power, nor magic artifice, can prevail against the lord of this mountain." While Aben Habuz was gazing with open mouth and silent wonder at these mystic talismans, the palfrey of the princess proceeded on, and bore her in at the portal, to tbe very centre of the barbican. "Behold," cried the astrologer, "my promised reward! — the first animal with its burden, that should enter the magic gate- way." Aben Habuz smiled at what he considered a pleasantry of the ancient man ; but when he f oimd him to be in earnest, his gray beard trembled with indignation. "Son of Abu Ayub," said he, sternly, " what equivocation is this? Thou knowest the meaning of my promise, the first beast of burden, with its load, that shoiild enter this portal. Take the strongest mule in my stables, load it with the most precious things of my treasury, and it is thine ; but dare not to raise thy thoughts to her, who is the dehght o£ my heart." "What need I of wealth," cried the astrologer, scornfully; "have I not the book of knowledge of Solomon the Wise, and through it, the command of the secret treasures of the earth? The princess is mine by right; thy royal word is pledged ; I claim her as my own." The princess sat upon her palfrey, in the pride of youth and beauty, and a light smile of scorn curled her rosy lip, at this dispute between two gray beards for her charms. The -\VTath of the monarch got the better of his discretion. ' ' Base son of the desert," cried he, " thou mayest be master of many arts, but Icnow me for thy master — and presume not to juggle witli fhy king." "My master!" echoed the astrologer, " my king! The mon arch of a mole-hill to claim sway over him who possesses the talismans of Solomon. Farewell, Aben Habuz ; reign over thy petty kingdom, and revel in thy paradise of fools— for me, I will laugh at thee in my philosophic retirement." 88 THE ALEAMBRA. So saying, he seized the hridle of the palfrey, smote the earth with his stall, and sank -with the Gothic princess through the eenire of the barhican. The earth closed over them, and no trace remained of the opening by which they had descended. Aben Habuz was struck diunb for a time with astonishmant. Recovering himself he ordered a thousand workmen to dig with pickaxe and spade into the ground where the astrologer had disappeared. They digged and digged, but in vain; the flinty bosom of the hill resisted their implements ; or if they did penetrate a httle way, the earth filled in again as fast as they threw it out. Aben Habuz sought the mouth of the cav- ern at the foot of the MQ, leading to the subterranean palace of the astrologer, but it was no where to be found : where once had been an entrance, was now a sohd surfaxie of primeval rock. With the disappearance of Ibrahim Ebn Abu Aynb ceased the benefit of his talismans. The bronze horseman re- mained fixed with his face turned toward the hill, and his spear pointed to the spot where the astrologer had descended, as if there stiU lurked the deadhest foe of Aben Habuz. From time to time the sound of music and the tones of a female voice could be faintly heard from the bosom of the hill, and a peasant one day brought word to the king, that in the preceding night ho had found a fissure in the rock, by which he had crept in untU he looked down into a subterranean hall, in which sat the astrologer on a magnificent divan, slimibering and nodding to the silver lyre of the princess, which seemed to hold a magic sway over his senses. Aben Habuz sought tor the fissure in the rock, but it was again closed. He renewed the attempt to unearth his rival, bist all in vain. The speU of the hand and key was too potent to be counteracted by human power. As to the summit of the mountain, the site of the promised palace and garden, it re- mained a naked waste : either the boasted Elysium was hidden from sight by enchantment, or was a mere fable of the astrolo- ger. The world charitably supposed the latter, and some used to call the place "the king's foUy," while others named it " the fool's Paradise." To add to the chagrin of Aben Habuz, the neighbours, whom he had defied ana taunted, and cut up at his leisure, while master of the tahsmanic horseman, finding him no longer pro- tected by magic speU, made inroads into his territories from all sides, and the remainder of the life of the most pacific of monarchs, was a tissue of turmoils LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PIIIKCESSES. 89 At length, Aben Habiiz died and was buried. Ages have Bince rolled away. The Alhambra has been built on the event- ful mountain, and in some measure reahzes the i'abled dehghts of the garden of Irem. The speU-bound gateway still exists, protected, no doubt, by the mystic hand and key, and now forms the gate of justice, the grand entrance to the fortress. Under that gateway, it is said; the old astrologer remains in his subterranean haU ; nodding on his divan, lulled by the sil- ver lyre of the princess. The old invalid sentinels, who mount guard at the gate, hear the strains occasionally in the simimer nights, and, yielding to their soporific power, doze quietly at their posts. Nay, so drowsy an influence pervades the place, that even those who watch by day, may generally be seen nodding on the stone benches of the barbican, or sleeping under the neighbouring trees ; so that it is, in fact, the drowsiest military post in ail Christendom. AH this, say the legends, wiU endure; from age to age the princess wiU remain captive to the astrologer, and the astrologer bound up in magic slumber by the princess, until the last day ; unless the mystic hand shall grasp the fated key, and dispel the whole charm of this enchanted mountain. LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. In old times there reigned a Moorish king in Granada, whose name was Mohamed, to which his subjects added the appella- tion of el Haygari, or " the left-handed." Some say he was so called, on account of his being really more expert with his sin- ister, than his dexter hand; others, because he was prone to take everyiihing by the wrong end ; or, in other words, to mar wherever he meddled. Certain it is, either through misfortune or mismanagement, he was continually in trouble. Thrice was he driven from his throne, and on one occasion barely escaped to Africa with his life, in the disguise of a fisherman. StiU he was as brave as he was blundering, and, though left-handed, wielded his scimitar to such purpose, that he each time re- established himself upon his throne, by dint of hard fighting. Instead, however, of learning wisdom from adversity, he hardened his neck, and stiffened his left-arm in wilfulness. The evils of a public nature which he thus brought upon him- 90 THE ALEAMBRA. seK and his kingdom, naay be learned by those who ■wiU delve into the Arabian annals of Granada; the present legend deals but with his domestic poUcy. As this Mohamed was one day riding forth, with a train of his courtiers, by the foot of the mountain of Elvira, he met a band of horsemen returning from a foray into the land of the Christians. They were conducting a long string of mules laden with spoil, and many captives of both sexes, among whom, the monarch was struck with the appearance of a beautiful damsel richly attired, who sat weeping, on a low palfrey, and heeded not the consoling words of a duenna, who rode beside her. The monarch was struck with her beauty, and on inquiring of the captain of the troop, found that she was the daughter of the alcayde of a frontier fortress that had been surprised and sacked in the course of the foray. Mohamed claimed her as his royal share of the booty, and had her conveyed to his harem in the Alhambra. There every thing was devised to soothe her melancholy, and the monarch, more and more enamom-ed, sought to make her his queen. The Spanish maid at first repulsed his addresses. He was an infldel— he was the open foe of her country— what was worse, he was stricken in years ! The monarch finding his assiduities of no avail, determined to enlist in his favour the duenna, who had been captured with the lady. She was an Andalusian by birth, whose C!hristian name is forgotten, being mentioned in Moorish legends, by no other appellation than that of the discreet Cadiga — and dis- creet, in truth she was, as her whole history makes evident. No sooner had the Moorish king held a little private conversa- tion with her, than she saw at once the cogency of his reason- ing, and undertook his caiise with her yoimg mistress. " Go to, now !" cried she ; " what is there in all this to we6p and wail about? — Is it not better to be mistress of this beautiful palace with aU its gardens and foim.tains, than to be shut up Avithin your father's old frontier tower? As to this Mohamed being an infidel — what is that to the purpose? You marry him — not his religion. And if he is waxing a little old, the sooner will you be a widow and mistress of yourself. At any rate you are in his power — and must either be a queen or a slave. — When in the hands of a robber, it is better to sell one's mer- chandies for a fair price, than to have it taken by main force." The arguments of the discreet Cadiga prevailed. Tlie Span- ish lady dried her tears and became the spouse of Mohamed LEGEND OF TUE THREE BE A UTIFUL PRINCESSES. 91 the left-h.ande'd. She even conformed in appearance to the faith of her royal husband, and her discreet duenna immedi- ately became a zealous convert to the Moslem doctrines; it was then the latter received the Arabian name of Cadiga, and was permitted to remain in the confidential employ of her mistress. In due process of time, the Moorish king was made the proud and happy father of three lovely daughters, all bom at a birth. He could have wished they had been sons, but con- soled himself with the idea that three daughters at a birth, were pretty well for a man somewhat stricken ia years, and left-handed. As usual with aU Moslem monarchs, he summoned his astrologers on this happy event. They cast the nativities of the three princesses, and shook their heads. "Daughters, O king," said they, "are always precarious property; but these win most need your watchfulness when they arrive at a mariiageable age. — At that time gather them under your wing, and trust them to no other guardianship." Mohamed the left-handed was acknowledged by his courtiers to be a wise king, and was certainly so considered by himself. The prediction of the astrologers caused him but little disquiet, trusting to his ingenuity to guard his daughters and outwit the fates. The threefold birth was the last matrimonial trophy of the monarch; his queen bore him no more children, and died within a few years, bequeathing her infant daughters to his love, and to the fidelity of the discreet Cadiga. Many years had yet to elapse before the princesses would arrive at that period of danger, the marriageable age. " It is good, however, to be cautious in time," said the shrewd mon- arch; so he determined to have them reared in the royal castle of Salobrena. This was a sumptuous palace, incrusted as it were in a powerful Moorish fortress, on the summit of a hill that overlooks the Mediterranean sea. It was a royal retreat, in which the Moslem monarchs shut up such of their relations as might endanger their safety; allowing them aU kinds of luxuries and amusements, in the midst of which they passed their lives in voluptuous indolence. Here the princesses remained, immured from the world, but surrounded by enjoyments; and attended by female slaves who anticipated their wishes. They had delightful gardens for their recreation, filled with the rarest fruits and flowers. 92 THE ALHAMBRA. •with aromatic groYCS and perfumed baths. Onthree sides the castle looked down upon a rich valley, enamelled with all kinds of culture, and bounded by the lofty Alpuxarra moun- tains ; on the other side it overlooked the broad sunny sea. In this dehcious abode, in a propitious climate and under a cloudless sky, the three princesses grew up into wondrous beauty; but, though aU reared alike, they gave early tokens of diversity of character. Their names were Zayda, Zorayda, and Zorahayda ; and such was the order of seniority, for there had been precisely three minutes between their births. Zayda, the eldest, was of an intrepid spirit, and took the lead of her sisters in every thing, as she had done in entering first into the world. She was curious and inquisitive, and fond of getting at the bottom of things. Zorayda had a great feeUng for beauty, which was the reason, no doubt, of her deUghtiag to regard her own image in a mirror or a foimtain, and of her fondness for flowers and jewels, and other tasteful ornaments. As to Zorahayda, the yoimgest, she was soft and timid, and extremely sensitive, with a vast deal of disposable tenderness, as was evident from her number of pet flowers, and pet birds, and pet animals, all of which she cherished with the fondest care. Her amusements, too, were of a gentle nature, and mixed up with musing and reverie. She woiild sit for hours in a balcony gazing on the{ sparkling stars of a summer night ; or on the sea when Ut up by the moon, and at such times the song of a fisherman faintly heard from the beach, or the notes of an arrafia or Moorish flute from some ghding bark, sufficed to elevate her feelings into ecstasy. The least uproar of the elements, however, flUed her with dismay, and a clap of thun- der was enough to throw her into a swoon. Years moved on serenely, and Cadiga, to whom the prin- cesses were confided, was faithful to her trust and attended them with tmremitting care. The castle of Salobrena, as has been said, was built upon a hill on the sea coast. One of the exterior waUs straggled down the profile of the hiU, imtil it reached a jutting rock overhang- ing the sea, with a narrow sandy beach at its foot, laved by the rippling billows. A small watch tower on this rock had been fitted up as a pavlUon, with latticed windows to admit the sea breeze. Here the princesses used to pass the sultry hours of mid-day. The curious Zayda was one day seated at one of the windows LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 93 of the pavilion, as her sisters, reclined on ottomans, ■were tak- ing the siesta, or noon-tide slumber. Her attention had been attracted to a galley, which came coasting along, with meas- ured strokes of the oar. As it drew near, she observed that it was filled with armed men. The galley anchored at the foot of the tower: a number of Moorish soldiers landed on the nar- row beach, conducting several Christian prisoners. The curi- ous Zayda awakened her sisters, and all three peeped cau- tiously through the close jalousies of the lattice, which screened them from sight. Among the prisoners were three Spanish cavaliers, richly dressed. They were in the flower of youth, and 01 noble presence, and the lofty manner in which they carried themselves, though loaded with chains and sur- rounded with enemies, bespoke the grandeur of their souls. The princesses gazed with intense and breathless interest. Cooped up as they had been in this castle among female at- tendants, seeing nothing of the male sex but black slaves, or the rude fishermen of the sea coast, it is not to be wondered at, that the appearance of three gallant cavaliers in the pride of youth emd manly beauty should produce some commotion in their bosoms. "Did ever nobler being tread the earth, than that cavalier in crimson?" cried Zayda, the eldest of the sisters. "See how proudly he bears himself, as though all around him were hrj slaves !" "But notice that one in green," exclaimed Zorayda; "what grace ! what elegance ! what spirit !" The gentle Zorahayda said nothing, but she secretly gave preference to the cavalier in green. The princesses remained gazing until the prisoners were out of sight; then heaving long-drawn sighs, they turned round, looked at each other for a moment, and sat down musiag and pensive on their ottomans. The discreet Cadiga found them in this situation; they re- lated to her what they had seen, and even the withered heart of the duenna was warmed. "Poor youths!" exclaimed she, "I'll warrant their captivity makes many a fair and high-bom lady's heart ache in their native land! Ah, my children, you have little idea of the life these cavaliers lead in their own country. Such pranlding at tournaments! such devotion to the ladies ! such courting and serenading !" The curiosity of Zayda was fully aroused. She was in- satiable in her inquiries, and drew from the duenna the most 94 THE ALUAMBllA. animated pioturcs of the scenes of her youthful days and native land. The beautrCul Zorayda bridled up, and dyly re- garded herself in a mirror, when the theme turned upon the charms of the Spanish ladies ; while Zorahayda suppressed a struggling sigh at the mention of moonlight serenades. Every day the curious Zayda renewed her inquiries; and every day the sage duenna repeated her stories, which were listened to with unmoved interest, though frequent sighs, by her gentle auditors. The discreet old woman at length awak- ened to the mischief she might be doing. She had been ac- customed to think of the princesses only as children, but they had imperceptibly ripened beneath her eye, and now bloomed before her three lovely damsels of the marriageable age. — It is time, thought the duenna, to give notice to the king. Mohamed the left-handed was seated one morning on a divan in one of the court halls of the Alhambra, when a noble arrived from the fortress of Salobrena, with a message from the sage Cadiga, congratulating him on the anniversary of his daughters' birth-day. The slave at the same time presented a delicate httle basket decorated with flowers, within which, on a couch of vine and fig leaves, lay a peach, an apricot, and a nectarine, with their bloom and down, and dewy sweetness upon them, and all in the early stage of temptiag ripeness. The monarch was versed in the oriental language of fruits and flowers, and readily divined the meaning of this emblematical offering. "So," said he, "the critical period pointed out by the as- trologers is arrived. — My daughters are at a marriageable age. What is to be done? They are shut up from the eyes of men, — they are under the eye of the discreet Cadiga— all very good — but stiQ they are not imder my own eye, as was prescribed by the astrologers.— 'I must gather them under my wing, and trust to no other guardianship.' " So saying, he ordered that a tower of the Alhambra should be prepared for their reception, and departed at the head of his guards for the fortress of Salobrena, to conduct them home in person. About three years had elapsed since Mohamed had beheld his daughters, and he could scarcely credit his eyes at the wonderful change which that small space of time had made in their appearance. During the interval they had passed that wondrous boimdary line in female hfe, which separat-os the crude, unformed, and thoughtless girl from th? blooming, LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 95 blushing, meditative woman. It is like passing from the flat, bleak, iininteresting plains of La Mancha to the voluptuous valleys and swelling hUls of Andalusia. Zayda was tall and finely formed, with a lofty demeanour and a penetrating eye. She entered with a stately and decided step, and made a profound reverence to Mohamed, treating him more as her sovereign than her father. Zorayda was of the middle height, with an alluring look and swimmiag gait, and a sparkling beauty heightened by the assistance of the toilette. She approached her father with a smQe, kissed his hand, and saluted him with several stanzas from a popular Arabian poet, with which the taonarch was delighted. Zora- hayda was shy and timid ; smaller than her sisters, and with a beauty of that tender, beseeching kind which looks for fond- ness and protection. She was httle fitted to command Kke her elder sister, or to dazzle Kke the second ; but was rather formed to creep to the bosom of manly affection, to nestle within it, and be content. She drew near her father with a timid and almost faltering step, and woidd have taken his hand to kiss, but on looking up into his face, and seeing it beaming wich a paternal smile, the tenderness of her nature broke forth, and she threw herself upon his neck. Mohamed, the left-handed, surveyed his blooming daughters with mingled pride and perplexity; for while he exulted in their charms, he bethought himself of the prediction of the astrologers. "Three daughters! — three daughters !" muttered he, repeatedly to himself, "and all of a marriageable age! Here's tempting hesperian fruit, that requires a dragon watch !" He prepared for his return to Granada, by sending heralds before him, commanding every one to keep out of the road by which he was to pass, and that all doors and windows should be closed at the approach of the princesses. This done, he set forth escorted by a troop of black horsemen of hideous aspect, and clad in shining armour. The princesses rode beside the king, closely veiled, on beauti- ful white palfreys, with velvet caparisons embroidered with gold, and sweeping the ground ; the bits and stirrups were of gold, and the silken bridles adorned with pearls and precious stones. The palfreys were covered with Uttle silver bells that made the most musical tinkling as they ambled gently along. Wo to the unlucky wight, however, who lingered in the way when he heard the tinkMng of these bells — the guards were or- dered to cut him down without mercy. 96 TEE ALIIAMBRA. The cavalcade was drawing near to G-ranada, when it over- took, on the banks of the river Xenil, a small body of Moorish soldiers, with a convoy of prisoners. It was too late for the soldiers to get out of the way, so they threw themselves on their faces on the earth, ordering their captives to do the hke. Among the prisoners, were the three identical cavaliers whom the princesses had seen from the pavilion. They either did not understand, or were too haughty to obey the order, and remained standing and gazing upon the cavalcade as it ap- proached. The ire of the monarch was kindled at this flagrant defiance of his orders, and he determined to punish it with his own hand. Drawing his scimitar and pressing forward, he was about to deal a left-handed blow, that would have been fatal to at least one of the gazers, when the princesses crowded round him, and implored mercy for the prisoners; even the timid Zorahayda forgot her shyness and became eloquent in their behalf. Mohamed paused, with uplifted scimitar, when the captain of the guard threw himself at his feet. "Let not your majesty," said he, "do a deed that may cause great scandal throughout the kingdom. These are three brave and noble Spanish knights who have been taken in battle, fighting like Mons ; they are of high birth, and may bring great ran- soms." "Enough," said the king; "I will spare their hves, but punish their audacity — let them be taken to the Vermilion towers and put to hard labour." ^ Mohamed was making one of his usual left-handed blunders. In the tumult and agitation of this blustering scene, the veUs of the three princesses had been thrown back, and the radi- ance of their beauty revealed ; and in prolonging the parley, the king had given that beauty time to have its full effect. In those days, people fell in love much more suddenly than at present, as aU ancient stories make manifest; it is not a matter of wonder, therefore, that the hearts of the three cavaliers were completely captivated; especially as grati- tude was added to their admiration: it is a httle singular, however, though no less certain, that each of them was enraptured wi*k a several beauty. As to the princesses, they were more than ever struck with the noble demeanour of the captives, and cherished in their hearts all that they had heard of their valour and noble lineage. The cavalcade resumed its march ; the three princesses LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 97 rode pensively along on their tinlding palfreys, now and then stealing a glance behind in search of the Chi-istian captives, and the latter were conducted to their allotted prison in the Vermilion towers. The residence provided for the princesses, was one of the most dainty that fancy could devise. It was in a tower somewhat apart from the main palace of the Alhambra, though connected with it by the main wall that encircled the whole summit of the hUl. On one side it looked into the interior of the fortress, and had at its foot a small gar- den filled with the rarest flowers. On the other side it over- looked a deep embowered ravine, that separated the grounds of the ALhambra from those of the Grenerahffe. The interior of the tower was divided into small fairy apartments, beauti- fully ornamented in the light Arabian style, surrounding a lofty hail, the vaulted roof of which rose almost to the sununit of the tower. The walls and ceiling of the hall were adorned with arabesques and fret-work sparkling with gold, and with brilliant pencilling. In the centre of the marble pavement, was an alabaster fountain, set round with aromatic shrubs and flowers, and throwing up a jet of water that cooled the whole edifice and had a lulling soimd. Eound the hall were suspended cages of gold and silver wire, containing singing birds of the finest plumage or sweetest note. The princesses having been represented as always cheerful when in the castle of Salobreiia, the king had expected to see them enraptured with the Alhambra. To his surprise, however, they began to pine, and grew green and melancholy, and dissatisfied with every thing around them. The flowers yielded them no fragrance; the song of the nightingale dis- turbed their night's rest, and they were out of all patience with the alabaster fountain, with its eternal drop, drop, and splash, splash, from morning till night, and from night till morning. The king, who was somewhat of a testy, tyrannical old man, took this at first in high dudgeon; but he reflected that his daughters had arrived at an age when the female mind expands and its desires augment. "They are no longer children," said he to himself; "they are women grown, and reqiiire suitable objects to interest them." He put in requisi- tion, therefore, all the dress makers, and the jewellers, and the artificers in gold and silver throughout the Zacatin of O-ranada^ and the princesses were overwhelmed with robes 98 THE ALEAMBRA. of silk, and of tissue and of brocade, and eachemire shawls, and necklaces of pearls, and diamonds, and rings, and brace- lets, and anklets, and aU manner of precious things. All, however, was of no avail. The princesses continued pale and languid in the midst of their finery, and looked like three bUghted rose buds, drooping from one stalk. The king was at his wit's end. He had in general a laudable confidence in his own judgment, and never took advice. "The whims and caprices of three marriageable damsels, however, are sufficient," said he, "to puzzle the shrewdest head."— So, for once in. his Hfe, he called in the aid of cotmsel. The person to whom he apphed was the experienced duenna. " Cadiga," said the king, " I know you to be one of the most discreet wom.en in the whole world, as weU as one of the most trustworthy ; for these reasons, I have always continued you alsout the persons of my daughters. Fathers cannot be too wary in whom they repose such confidence. I now wish you to find out the secret malady that is preying upon the prin- cesses, and to devise some means of restoring them to health and cheerfulness." Cadiga promised implicit obedience. In fact, she knew more of the malady of the princesses than they did them- selves. Shutting herself up with them, however, she endea- voured to insinuate herself into their confidence. "My dear children, what is the reason you are so dismal and downcast, in so beautiful a place, where you have every thing that heart can wish?" The princesses looked vacantly round the apartment, and sighed. "What more, then, would you have? Shall I get you the wonderful parrot that talks all languages, and is the delight of Granada?" ' ' Odious 1" exclaimed the princess Zayda. ' ' A horrid scream- ing bird that chatters words without ideas 1 One must be without brains to tolerate such a pest." "Shall I send for a moiikey from the rock of Gibraltar, to divert you with his antics?" "A monkey! faugh!" cried Zorayda, " the detestable mimic of man. I hate the nauseous animal." "What say you to the famous black singer. Casern, from the royal harem in Morocco. They say he has a voice as fine as a woman's." " I am terrified at the sight of these black slaves," said the LEGEND OP THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PEINOESSES. Qg delicate Zorahayda; "besides, I have lost all relish for music." "Ah, my child, you would not say so," replied the old woman, slyly, "had you heard the music I heard last even- ing, from the three Spanish cavaJiers whom we met on our journey. — ^But bless me, children I what is the matter that you blush so, and are in such a flutter ?" "Nothing, nothing, good mother, pray proceed." "Well— as I was passing by the Vermilion towers, last evening, I saw the three cavaliers resting after their day's labour. One was playing on the guitar so gracefully, and the others sang by turns — and they did it in such style, that the very guards seemed hke statues or men enchanted. Allah forgive me, I could not help being moved at hearing the songs of my native country. — And then to see three such noble and handsome youths ia chains and slavery." Here the kind-hearted old woman could not restrain her tears. " Perhaps, mother, you could manage to procure us a sight of these cavaliers," said Zayda. "I think," said Zorayda, "a little music would be quite reviving." The timid Zorahayda said nothing, but threw her arms round the neck of Cadiga. "Mercy on me!" exclaimed the discreet old woman; "what are you talking of, my children ? Tour father would be the death of us all, if he heard of such a thing. To be sure, these cavaliers are evidently weU-bred and high-minded youths — but what of that ! they are the enemies of our faith, and you must not even think of them, but with abhorrence." There is an admirable intrepidity ia the female will, particu- larly about the marriageable age, which is not to be deterred by dangers and prohibitions. The princesses hung round their old duenna, and coaxed and entreated, and declared that a re- fusal would break their hearts. What could she do? She was certainly the most discreet old woman in the whole world, and one of the most faithful servants to the king— but was she to see three beautiful princesses break their hearts for the mere tinkling of a guitar? Beside, though she had been so long among the Moors, and changed her faith, in imitation of her mistress, like a trusty follower, yet she was a Spaniard bom, and had the Ungerings of Christianity in her heart. So she set about to contrive how the wishes of the princesses might be gratified. 100 THE ALHAMBRA. The Christian captives confined in the Vermilion towers, were under the charge of a big-whiskered, broad-shotildered renegado, called Hussein Baba, who was reported to have a most itching pahn. She went to him, privately, and sUpping a broad piece of gold into his hand, " Hussein Baba," said she, "my mistresses, the three princesses, who are shut up in the tower, and in sad want of amusement, have heard of the musi- cal talents of the three Spanish cavaliers, and are desirous of hearing a specimen of their skill. 1 am sure you are too kind- hearted to refuse them so innocent a gratification." " What, and to have my head set grinning over the gate of my own tower — for that would be the reward, if the king should discover it." "No danger of any thing of the kind; the affair may be managed so that the whim of the princesses may be gratified, and their father be never the wiser. Ton know the deep ra- vine outside of the walls, that passes immediately below the tower. Put the three Christians to work there, and at the in- tervals of their labour let them play and sing, as if for their own recreation. In this way, the princesses will be able to hear them from the windows of the tower, and you may be sin-e ol their paying well for your comphance." As the good old woman concluded her harangue, she kindly pressed the rough hand of the renegado, and left within it an- other piece of gold. Her eloquence was irresistible. The very next day the three cavaliers were put to work in the ravine. During the noon- tide heat when their fellow labourers were sleeping in the shade, and the guard nodded drowsily at his post, they seated themselves among the herbage at the foot of the tower, and sang a Spanish roundelay to the accompaniment of the guitar. The glen was deep, the tower was high, but their voices rose distinctly in the stillness of the summer noon. The princesses listened from their balcony ; they had been taught the Spanish language by their duenna, and were moved by the tenderness of the song. The discreet Cadiga, on the contrary, was terribly shocked. " AUah preserve us," cried she, "they are singing a love ditty addressed to yourselves, — did ever mortal hear of such audac- ity? I wiU run to the slave master and have them soundly bastinadoed." " What, bastinado such gallant cavaliers, and for singing so charmingly?" The three beautiful princesses were filled with LEGEND OF THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 101 horror at the idea. With all her virtuous indignation, the good old woman was of a placable nature and easily appeased. Be- side, the music seemed to have a beneficial effect upon her yoimg mistresses. A rosy bloom had already come to their cheeks, and their eyes began to sparkle. She made no further objection, therefore, to the amorous ditty of the cavaliers. When it was finished, the princesses remained silent for a time; at length Zorayda took up a lute, and with a sweet, though faint and trembling voice, warbled a Httle Arabian air, the burden of which was, "The rose is concealed among her leaves, but she hstens with dehght to the song of the nightin- gale." From this time forward the cavaliers worked almost daily in the ravine. The considerate Hussein Baba became more and more indulgent, and daily more prone to sleep at his post. For some time a vague intercourse was kept up by popular songs and romaaices ; which in some measure responded to each other, and breathed the feelings of the parties. By degrees the princesses showed themselves at the balcony, when they could do so without being perceived by the guards. They con- versed with the cavahers also by means of flowers, with the symboUcal language of which they were mutually acquainted : the difficulties of their intercourse added to its charms, and strengthened the passion they had so singularly conceived ; for love delights to struggle with difflciilties, and thrives the most hardily on the scantiest soil. The change effected ia the looks and spirits of the princesses by this secret intercourse, surprised and gratified the left- handed king; but no one was more elated than the discreet Cadiga, who considered it all owing to her able manage- ment. At length there was an interruption in this telegi-aphic cor- respondence, for several days the cavaliers ceased to make their appearance in the glen. The three beautiful princesses looked out from the tower in vain. — In vain they stretched their swan-Mke necks from the balcony ; in vain they sang hke captive nightingales in their cage ; nothing was to be seen of their Christian lovers, not a note responded from the groves. The discreet Cadiga sallied forth in quest of intelligence, and soon returned with a face full of trouble. " Ah, my children !" cried she, "I saw what all this would come to, but you would have your way ; you may now hang up your lutes on the wil- ICWB. The Spanish cavaliers are ransomed by their f amUies ; 102 TSB ALHAMBBA. they are down in Granada, and preparing to return to theii native country." The three beautiful princesses were in despair at the tidings. The fair Zayda was indignant at the shght put upon them, in being thus deserted without a parting word. Zorayda rung her hands and cried, and looked in the glass, and wiped away her tears, and cried afresh. The gentle Zorahayda leaned over the balcony, and wept in sUence, and her tears feU drop by drop, among the flowers of the bank where the faithless cavahers had so often been seated. The discreet Cadiga did aU in her power to soothe their sor- row. " Take comfort, my children," said she, " this is nothing when you are used' to it. This is the way of the world. Ah, when you are as old as I am, you will know how to value these men. I'll warrant these cavahers have their loves among the Spanish beauties of Cordova and Seville, and wUl soon be sere- nading under their balconies, and thinking no more of the Moorish beauties in the Alhambra. — Take comfort, therefore, my children, and drive them from your hearts." The comforting words of the discreet Cadiga only redoubled the distress of the princesses, and for two days they continued inconsolable. On the morning of the third, the good old woman entered their apartment aU ruffling with indignation. "Who would have believed such insolence in m.ortal man?'" exclaimed she, as soon as she could find words to express her- self ; "but I am rightly served for having connived at this de- ception of your worthy father — never talk more to me of your Spanish cavahers." "Why, what has happened, good Cadiga?" exclaimed the princesses, in breathless anxiety. "What has happened? treason has happened! — or what is almost as bad, treason has been proposed — and to me — the faithfulest of subjects— the trustiest of duennas — yes, my chil- dren — the Spanish cavaliers have dared to tamper with me; that I should persuade you to fly with them to Cordova, and become their wives." Here the excellent old woman covered her face with her hands, and gave way to a violent burst of grief and indigna- tion. The three beautiful princesses turned pale and red, and trem- bled, and looked down ; and cast shy looks at each other, but said nothing: meantime, the old woman sat rocking backward and forward in violent agitation, and now and then breaking LEGEND OF TUB THREE BEAUTIFUL PSINOESSES. 103 but into exclamations— " That ever I should live to be so in- Biilted — I, the faithfulest of servants 1" At length the eldest princess, who had most spirit, and always took the lead, approached her, and laying her hand upon her shoulder — "Well, mother," said she, "supposing we were will-' ing to fly with these Christian cavaliers — ^is such a thing pos sible?" The good old woman paused suddenly in her grief, and loot ing Tip— "Possible!" echoed she, "to be sirre it is possible. Have not the cavaliers already bribed Hussein Baba, the rene gado captain of the guard, and arranged the whole plan? — But then to think of deceiving your father — yoiu- father, who has placed such confidence in me?" Here the worthy old woman gave way to a fresh burst of grief, and began again to rock backwards and forwards, and to TTTing her hands. "But our father has never placed any confidence in us," said ihe eldest princess; "but has trusted to bolts and bars, and treated us as captives." "Why, that is true enough," replied the old woman, again pausing in her grief — "He has indeed treated you most unrea- sonably. Keeping you shut up here to waste your bloom in a moping old tower, like roses left to wither in a flower jar. But then to fly from your native land." "And is not the land we fly to, the native land of our mother ; where .we shall live in freedom? — and shall we not each have a youthful husband in exchange for a severe old father?" "Why, thait again is aU very true— and your father, I must confess, is rather tyrannical. — But what then" — relapsing into her grief — "would you leave me behind to bear the brunt of his vengeance?" " By no means, my good Cadiga. Cannot you fly with us?" "Very true, my child, and to teU the truth, when I talked the matter over with Hussein Baba, he promised to take care of me if I would accompany you in yoiu" flight : but then, be- think you, my children ; are you willing to renounce the faith of your father?" "The Christian faith was the original faith of our mother," said the eldest princess; "I am ready to embrace it; and so T am sure are my sisters." "Eight again!" exclaimed the old woman, brightening up. "It was the original faith of your mother; and bitterly did she lament, on hor death-bed, that she had renounced it. I prom- 104 THE ALEAMBRA. ised her then to take care of your souls, and I am rejoiced to see that they are now in a fair way to he saved. Yes, my chil- dren; I too was born a Christian — and have always been a Christian in my heart; and am resolved to return to the faith. I have talked on the subject with Hussein Baba, who is a Span- iard by birth, and comes from a place not far from m.y native town. He is equally anxious to see his own coimtry and to be reconciled to the church, and the cavaliers have prontised that if we are disposed to become man and wife on returning to our native land, they will provide for us handsomely." In a word, it appeared that this extremely discreet and provi- dent old woman had consulted with the cavaliers and the rene- gade, and had concerted the whole plan of escape. The eldest princess immediately assented to it, and her example as usual determined the conduct of her sisters. It is true, the youngest hesitated, for she was gentle and timid of soul, and there was a struggle in her bosom between fUial feehng and youthful passion. The latter however, as usual, gained the victory, and with silent tears and stifled sighs she prepared herself for flight. The rugged hUl on which the Alhambra is built was in old times perforated with subterranean passages, cut through the rock, and leading from the fortress to various parts of the city, and to distant sally-ports on the banks of the Darro and the Xenil. They had been constructed at different times, by the Moorish kings, as means of escape from sudden insurrection, or of secretly issuing forth on private enterprises. Many of them are now entirely lost, while others remain, partly choked up with rubbish, and partly waUed up — moniunents of the jealous precautions and warlike stratagems of the Moorish government. By one of these passages, Hussein Baba had undertaken to conduct the princesses to a saUy-port beyond the walls of the city, where the cavaliers were to be ready with fleet steeds to bear them all over the borders. The appointed night arrived. The tower of the princesses had been locked up as usual, and the Alhambra was buried in deep sleep. Towards midnight the discreet Cadiga listened from a balcony of a window that looked into the garden. Hussein Baba, the renegade, was already below, and gave the appointed signal. The duenna fastened the end of a ladder of ropes to the balcony, lowered it into the garden, and descended. The two eldest princesses followed her with beating hearts ; but when it came to the turn of the youngest priD'^-eap. Zorahayda, LEOENB or THE THREE BEAUTIFUL PUmGESSES. 105 she hesitated and trembled. Several times she ventured a deU- cate Uttle foot upon the ladder, and as often drew it back; while her poor little heart fluttered more and more the longer she delayed. She cast a wistful look back into the silken cham- ber; she had hved in it, to be sure, like a bird in a cage, but within it she was secure — who could not tell what dangers might beset her should she flutter forth into the wide world? Now she bethought her of her gallant Christian lover, and her little foot was instantly upon the ladder, and anon she thought of her father, and shrunk back. But fruitless is the attempt to describe the conflict in the bosom of one so yoimg, and tender, and loving, but so timid and so ignorant of the world. In vain her sisters implored, the duenna scolded, and the renegado blasphemed beneath the balcony. The gentle little Moorish maid stood doubting and wavering on the verge of elopement ; tempted by the sweetness of the sin, but terrified at its perils. Every moment increased the danger of discovery. A distant tramp was heard. — "The patrols are walking the rounds," cried the renegado; "if we linger longer we perish— princess, de- scend instantly, or we leave you." Zorahayda was for a moment in fearful agitation, then loos- ening the ladder of ropes, with desperate resolution she flung it from the balcony. " It is decided, " cried she, ' ' flight is now out of my power ! — Allah guide and bless ye, my dear sisters !" The two eldest princesses were shocked at the thoughts of leaving her behind, and would fain have lingered, but the patrol was advancing; the renegado was furious, and they were hurried away to the subterraneous passage. They groped their way through a f earfiil labyrinth cut through the heart of the mountain, and succeeded in reaching, undiscovered, an iron gate that opened outside of the walls. The Spanish cav- aJiers were waiting to receive them, disguised as Moorish sol- diers of the guard commanded by the renegado. The lover of Zorahayda was frantic when he learned that she had refused to leave the tower ; but there was no time to waste in lamentations. The two princesses were placed behind their lovers; the discreet Cadiga mounted behind the renegado, and all set off at a round pace in the direction of the pass of Lope, which leads through the mountains towards Cordova. They had not proceeded far when they heard the noise of drums and trumpets from the battlements of the AUiambra. " Our flight is discovered," said the renegado. "We have fleet 106 TEE ALHAMBRA. steeds, the nigM is dark, and we may distance all pursuit," replied the cavaliers. They put spurs to their horses and scoured across the Vega. They attained to the foot of the mountain of Elvira, which stretches like a promontory into the plain. The renegade paused and hstened. "As yet," said he, "there is no one on our traces, we shall make good our escape to the moim.tains."' While he spoke a ball of fire sprang up in a Mght blaze on the top of the watch-tower of the Alhambra. " Confusion!" cried the renegado, "that fire will put all the guards of the passes on the alert. Away, away, spur like mad ; there is no time to be lost." Away they dashed — the clattering of their horses' hoofs echoed from rock to rock as they swept along the road that skirts the rocky mountain of Elvira. As they galloped on, they beheld that the ball of fire of the Alhambra was answered in every direction ; light after light blazed on the atalayas or watch-towers of the mountains. "Forward! forward!" cried the renegado, with many an oath — "to the bridge! — ^to the bridge! before the -alarm has reached there." They doubled the promontory of the moimtain, and arrived in sight of the famous Puente del Pinos, that crosses a rushing stream often dyed with Christian and Moslem blood. To their conf usion the tower on the bridge blazed with lights and glit- tered with armed men. The renegado pulled up his steed, rose in his stirrups and looked about him for a moment, then beck- oning to the cavaliers he struck off from the road, skirted the river for some distance, and dashed into its waters. The cav- alidrs called upon the princesses to cling to them, and did the same. They were borne for some distance down the rapid current, the surges roared round them, but the beautiful prin- cesses clung to their Christian knights and never uttered a complaint. The cavaliers attained the opposite bank in safety, and were conducted by the renegado, by rude and imfre- quented paths, and wild barrancos through the heart of the momitains, so as to avoid all the regular passes. In a word, they succeeded in reaching the ancient city of Cordova ; when their restoration to their country and friends was celebrated with great rejoicings, for they were of the noblest families. The beautiful princesses were forthwith received into the bosom of the church, and after being in all due form made regular Christians, were rendered happy lovers. LEGEND OP TBE THREE BEAUTIFUL PRINCESSES. 107 In our hurry to make good the escape of the princesses across the river and up the mountains, we forgot to mention the fate of the discreet Cadiga. She had clung hke a cat to Hussein Baba, in the scamper across the Vega, screaming at every bound and drawing many an oath from the whiskered rencgado ; but when be prepared to plunge his steed into the river her terror knew no boimds. " Grasp me not so tightly," cried Hussein Baba; "hold on by my belt, and fear nothing." She held firmly with both hands by the leathern belt that girded the broad-backed renegaao ; but when he halted with the cavaliers to take breath on the mountain summit, the duenna was no longer to be seen. "What has become of Cadiga?" cried the princesses in alarm. "I know not," replied the renegado. "My belt came loose in the midst of the river, and Cadiga was swept with it down the stream. The will of Allah be done! — but it was an em- broidered belt and of great price !" There was no time to waste in idle reports, yet bitterly did the princesses bewail the loss of their faithful and discreet counsellor. That excellent old woman, however, did not lose more than half of her nine lives in the stream. — A fisherman who was drawing his nets some distance down the stream, brought her to land and was not a httle astonished at his miraculous draught. What farther became of the discreet Cadiga, the legend does not mention. — Certain it is, that she evinced her discretion in never venturing within the reach of Mohamed the left-handed. Almost as little is known of the conduct of that sagacious monarch, when he discovered the escape of his daughters and the deceit practised upon him by the most faithful of servants. It was the only instance in which he had called in the aid of counsel, and he was never afterwards known to be guilty of a similar weakness. He took good care, however, to guard his remaining daughter; who had no disposition to elope. It is thought, indeed, that she secretly repented having remained behind. Now and then she was seen leaning on the battle- ments of the tower and looking mournfully towards the moun- tains, in the direction of Cordova ; and sometimes the notes of her lute were heard accompanying plaintive ditties, in which she w^as said to lament the loss of her sisters and her lover, and to bewail her soHtary hfe. She died young, and, according to 108 THE ALHAMBRA. popular rumour, was buried ia a vault beneath the tower, and her untimely fate has given rise to more than one traditionary fable. LOCAL TRADITIONS. The common people of Spain have an oriental passion for story -teUing and are fond of the marvellous. They will gather round the doors of their cottages on summer evenings, or in the great cavernous chimney comers of their ventas in the winter, and listen with insatiable delight to miraculous legends of saints, perilous adventures of travellers, and daring exploits of robbers and contrabandistas. The wild and solitary nature of a great part of Spain; the imperfect state of knowledge; the scantiness of general topics of conversation, and the ro- mantic, adventurous Mfe that every one leads in a land where travelling is yet in its primitive state, all contribute to chei-ish this love of oral narration, and to produce a strong expression of the extravagant and wonderful. There is no thenae, how- ever, more prevalent or popular than that of treasures buried by the Moors. It pervades the whole country. In traversing the wild Sierras, the scenes of ancient prey and exploit, you cannot see a Moorish atalaya or wa.tch-tower perched among the cliffs, or beetMug above its rock-built village, but your muleteer, on being closely questioned, will suspend the smok- ing of his cigariUo to tell some tale of Moslem gold buried be^ neath its foundations ; nor is there a ruined alcazar in a city, but has its golden tradition, handed down, from generation to generation, among the poor people of the neighbourhood. These, like most popular fictions, have had some ground- work in fact. During the wars between Moor and Christian, which distracted the country for centuries, towns and castles were liable frequently and suddenly to change owners ; and the inhabitants, during sieges and assaults, were fain to bury their money and jewels in the earth, or hide them in vaults and weUs, as is often done at the pi-esent day in the despotic and belliger- ent countries of the East. At the time of the expulsion of the Moors, also, many of them concealed their most precious effects, hoping that their exile would be but temporary, and that they would be enabled to return and retrieve their treas- ures at some future day. It is certain that, from time to time, hoards of gold and silver coin have been accidentally digged up, after a lapse of centuries, from among the ruins LEGEND OF THE MOOR'S LEGA07. 109 of Moorish fortresses and habitations, and it requires but a few facts of the kind to give birth to a thousand fictions. The stories thus originating have generally something of an oriental tinge, and are marked with that mixture of the Arabic and Gothic which seems to me to characterize everything in Spain ; and especially in its southern provinces. The hidden wealth is always laid under magic speU, and secured by charm and talisman. Sometimes it is guarded by uncouth monsters, or fiery dragons ; sometimes by enchanted Moors, who sit by it in armour, with drawn swords, but motionless as statues, maintaining a sleepless watch for ages. The Alhambra, of course, from the peculiar circumstances of its history, is a strong hold for popular fictions of the kind, and curious rehques, dug up from time to time, have contrib- uted to strengthen them. At one time, an earthen vessel was found, containing Moorish coins and the skeleton of a cock, which, according to the opinion of shrewd inspectors, must have been buried alive. At another time, a vessel was digged up, containing a great scarabaeus, or beetle, of baked clay, cov- ered with Arabic inscriptions, which was pronounced a pro- digious amulet of occult virtues. In this way the wits of the ragged brood who inhabit the Alhambra have been set wool gathering, until there is not a hall, or tower, or vault, of the old fortress that has not been made the scene of some marvel- lous tradition. I have already given brief notices of some related to me by the authentic Mateo Ximenes, £m.d now subjoin one wrought out from various particulars gathered among the gossips of the fortress. LEGEND OF THE MODE'S LEGACY. JtrsT within the fortress of the Alhambra, in front of the royal palace, is a broad open esplanade, called the place or sqiiare of the cisterns, (la plaza de los algibes,) so called from being undermined by reservoirs of water, hidden from sight, and which have existed from the time of the Moors. At one comer of this esplanade is a Moorish well, cut through the liv- ing rock to a great depth, the water of which is cold as ice and clear as crystal. The wells made by the Moors are always in 110 TEE ALEAMBRA. repute, for it is well known what pains they took to penetrate to the purest and sweetest springs and fountains. The one we are speaking of is famous throughout Granada, insomuch that the water-carriers, some bearing great water-jars on their shoulders, others driving asses before them, laden with earthen vessels, are ascending and descending the steep woody avenues of the Alhambra from early dawn untU a late hour of the night. Fountains and weUs, ever since the scriptur£il days, have been noted gossiping places in hot chmates, and at the well in question there is a kind of perpetual club kept up during the hve-long day, by the invalids, old women, and other curious, do-nothing folk of the fortress, who sit here on the stone benches under an awning spread over the weU to shelter the toll-gatherer from the sun, and dawdle over the gossip of the fortress, and question any water-carrier that arrives about the news of the city, and make long comments on everything they hear and see. Not an hour of the day but loitering housewives and idle maid-servants may be seen, lingering with pitcher on head or in hand, to hear the last of the endless tattle of these worthies. Among the water-carriers who once resorted to this well there was a sturdy, strong-backed, bandy-legged little fellow, named Pedro GU, but called PeregU for shortness. Being a water-carrier, he was a Gallego, or native of GaUicia, of course. Nature seems to have formed races of men as she has of animals for difEerent kinds of drudgery. In France the shoe- blacks are all Savoyards, the porters of hotels all Swiss, and in the days of hoops and hair powder in England, no man could give the regular swing to a sedan chair, but a bog-trotting Irishman. So in Spain the carriers of water and bearers of burdens are all sturdy httle natives of GaUicia. No man says, "get me a porter," but, " call a Gallego." To return from this digression. Peregil the Gallego had begun business with merely a great earthen jar, which he car- ried upon his shoulder ; by degrees he rose in the world, and was enabled to purchase an assistant of a correspondent class of animals, being a stout shaggy -haired donkey. On €fach side of this his long-eared aid-de-camp, in a kind of pannier, were slung his water-jars covered with fig leaves to protect them froin the sun. There was not a more industrious water-carrier in all Granada, nor one more merry withal. The streets rang with his cheerf id voice as he trudged after his donkey, singing forth the usual summer note that resounds through the Spanish towns: LEGEND OF THE MOOR'S LEGACY. HI " quien quiere agua — agiia inasfria que la nieve. — Who wants water— water colder than snow — who wants water from the well of the Alhambra— cold as ice and clear as crystal?" When he served a customer with a sparkling glass, it was always with a pleasant word that caused a smile, and if, perchance, it was a comely dame, or dimpling damsel, it was always with a sly leer and a compliment to her beauty that was irresistible. Thus Peregil the GaUego was noted throughout all Granada for being one of the civilest, pleasantest, and happiest of mortals. Yet it is not he who sings loudest and jokes most that has the lightest heart. Under aU this air of merriment, honest Peregil had his cares and troubles. He had a large family of ragged children to support, who were hungry and clamorous as a nest of young swallows, and beset him with their outcries for food whenever he came home of an evening. He had a help- mate too, who was anything but a help to him. She had been a village beauty before marriage, noted for her skiU. in dancing the bolero and rattling the castanets, and she stUl retained her early propensities, spending the hard earnings of honest Pere- gil in frippery, and laying the very donkey imder requisition for junketting parties into the country on Sundays, and saints' days, and those innumerable holydays which are rather more numerous in Spain than the days of the week. With aU this she was a little of a slattern, something more of a lie-a-bed, and, above all, a gossip of the first water; neglecting house, household and everything else, to loiter slip-shod in the houses of her gossip neighbours. He, however, who tempers the wind to the shorn lamb, accommodates the yoke of matrimony to the submissive neck. Peregil bore all the heavy dispensations of wife and children with as meek a spirit as his donkey bore the water- jars ; and, however he might shake his ears in private, never ventured to question the household virtues of his. slattern spouse. He loved his children too, even as an owl loves its owlets, seeing in them his own image multiphed and perpetuated, for they were a sturdy, long-backed, bandy-legged little brood. The great pleasure of honest Peregil was, whenever he could afiEord himself a scanty holyday and had a handful of marave- dies to spare, to take the whole litter forth with him, some in his arms, some tugging at his skirts, and some trudging at his I eels, and to treat them to a gambol among the orchards of the Vega, while his wife was dancing: with her holyday friends in the Angosturas of the Darro. 112 TEE ALEAMBBA. It was a late hour one summer niglit, and most of the water- carriers had desisted from their toUs. The day had been un- commonly sultry; the night was one of those dehcious moon- lights, which tempt the inhabitants of those southern cHmes to indemnify themselves for the heat and inaction of the day, by lingering in the open air and enjoying its tempered sweetness until after midnight. Customers for water were therefore still abroad. Peregil, hke a considerate, painstaking little father, thought of his hungry children. ' ' One more journey to the well," said he to himself, "-to earn a good Sunday's puchero for the Httle ones." So saying, he trudged rapidly up the steep avenue of the Alhambra, singing as he went, and now and then bestowing a hearty thwack with a cudgel on , the flanks of his donkey, either by way of cadence to the song, or refreshment to the animal; for dry blows serve in lieu for provender in Spain, for all beasts of burden. When arrived at the well, he found it deserted by every one except a soUtary stranger in Moorish garb, seated on the stone bench in the moonlight. Peregil paused at first, and regarded bim -with surprise, not unmixed with awe, but the Moor feebly beckoned him to approach. "I am faint and iU," said he; "aid me to return to the city, and I will pay thee double what thou couldsfc gain by thy jars of water." The honest heart of the little water-carrier was touched with compassion at the appeal of the stranger. "God forbid," said he, "that I should ask fee or reward for doing a common act of humanity." He accordingly helped the Moor on his donkey, and set off slowly for Granada, the poor Moslem being so weak that it was necessary to hold him on the animal to keep him from falling to the earth. Whtn they entered the city, the water-carrier demanded whither he should condiict him. "Alasl" said the Moor, faintly, " I have neither home nor habitation. I am a stranger in the land. Suffer me to lay my head this night beneath thy roof, and thou shall be amply repaid. " Honest Peregil thus saw himself unexpectedly saddled with an infidel guest, but he was too humane to refuse a night's shelter to a fellow being in so forlorn a plight ; so he conducted the Moor to his dwelling. The children, who had saUied forth, open-mouthed as usual, on hesiring the tramp of the donkey, ran back with afEright, when they beheld the turbanod LEGEND OF THE MOOR'S LEGACY. 113 stranger, and hid themselves behind their mother. The latter stepped forth intrepidly, like a r ufflin g hen before her brood, ■when a vagrant dog approaches. "What infidel companion," cried she, "is this you have brought home at this late hour, to draw upon us the eyes of the Inquisition?" "Be quiet, wife," replied the Gallego, "here is a poor sick stranger, without friend or home : woiddst thou turn him forth to perish in the streets?" The wife would stiU. have remonstrated, for, though she lived in a hovel, she was a furious stickler for the credit of her house; the httle water-carrier, however, for once was stiff- necked, and refused to bend beneath the yoke. He assisted the poor Moslem to aUght, and spread a mat and a sheepskin for him, on the ^ound, in the coolest part of the house ; being the only kind of bed that his poverty afforded. In a little while the Moor was seized with violent convul- sions, which defied all the ministering sldU of the simple water-carrier. The eye of the poor patient acknowledged his kindness. During an interval of his fits he called him to his side, and addressing him in a low voice; "My end," said he, "I fear is at hand. If I die I bequeath you this box as a re- ward for your charity. " So saying, he opened his albomoz, or cloak, and showed a small box of sandal wood, strapped roimd his body. "God grant, my friend," replied the worthy Uttle GaUego, *'that you may live many years to enjoy your treasure, what- ever it may be." The Moor shook his head ; he laid his hand upon the box, and would have said something more concerning it, but his convulsions returned with increased violence, and in a Mttle while he expired. The water-carrier's wife was now as one distracted. " This comes," said she, "of your foolish good nature, always run- ning into scrapes to oblige others. What wiU become of us when this corpse is found in our house? We shall be sent to prison as murderers ; and if we escape with our hves, shall bo ruiaed by notaries and aJguazUs. " Poor PeregU was in equal tribulation, and almost repented himself of having done a good deed. At length a thought struck him. "It is not yet day," said he. "I can convey the dead body out of the city and bury it iu the sands on the banks of the Xenil. No one saw the Moor enter our dwelling, and no 114 THE ALEAMBRA. one will know any thing of his death." So said, so done. The wife aided him : they roUed the body of the unfortunate Mos- lem in the mat on which he had expired, laid it across the ass, and Mattias set out with it for the banks of the river. As ill luck would have it, there lived opposite to the water- carrier a barber, named Pedrillo Pedrugo, one of the most prying, tattling, mischief -making, of his gossip tribe. He was a weasel-faced, spider-legged varlet, supple and iosiauating; the famous Barber of Seville could not surpass him for his uni- versal knowledge of the affairs of others, and he had no more power of retention than a sieve. It was said that he slept with but one eye at a time, and kept one ear imcovered, so that, even in his sleep, he might see and hear aU that was going on. Certain it is, he was a sort of scandalous chronicle for the quidnuncs of G-ranada, and had more customers than all the rest of his fraternity. This meddlesome barber heard Peregil arrive at an unusual hour of night, and the exclamations of his wife and children. His head was instantly popped out of a little window which served him as a lookout, and he saw his neighboiu- assist a man in a Moorish garb into his dwelling. This was so strange an occurrence that Pedrillo Pedrugo slept not a wink that night — every five minutes he was at his loop-hole, watching the lights that gleamed through the chinlds of his neighbour's door, and before daylight he beheld Peregil saHy forth with his donkey TinusuaUy laden. The inquisitive barber was in a fidget; he slipped on his clothes, and, stealing forth silently, followed the water-carrier at a distance, until he saw him dig a hole in the sandy bank of the Xoml, and bury something that had the appearance of a dead body. The barber hied him home and fidgeted about his shop, set- ting everything upside down, until sunrise. He then took a basin under his arm, and sallied forth to the house of his daily customer, the Alcalde. The Alcalde was just risen. PedriUo Pedrugo seated him in a chair, threw a napkin round his neck, put a basin of hot water under his chin, and began to moUif y his beard with his fingers. "Strange doings," said Pedrugo, who played barber and newsmonger at the same time. "Strange doings! Robbery, and murder, and burial, all in one night !" " Hey? how! What is it you say?" cried the Alcalde. LEGEND OF TUE MOOR'S LEGACY. 115 " I say," replied the barber, rubbing a piece of soap over the nose and mouth of the dignitary, for a Spanish barber disdains to employ a brush; "I say that Peregil the Gallego has robbed and murdered a Moorish Mussulman, and buriec^ him this blessed night, — maldita sea la noche, — accursed be the night ior the same !" "But how do you. know all this?" demanded the Alcalde. " Be patient, Senor, and you shall hear all about it," replied Pedrillo, taking him by the nose and shding a razor over his cheek. He then recounted all that he had seen, going through both operations at the same time, shaving his beard, washing his chin, and wiping him dry with a dirty napkin, while he was robbing, murdering, and burying the Moslem. Now it so happened that this Alcalde was one of the most overbearing, and at the same time most griping and corrupt curmudgeons in all Granada. It could not be denied, however, that he set a high value upon justice, for he sold it at its weight in gold. He presumed the case in point to be one of murder and robbery; doubtless there must be rich spoil ; how was it to bo secured into the legitimate hands of the law ? for as to merely entrapping the dehnquent — ^that woiild be feeding the gaUows: but entrapping the booty — ^that would be enriching the judge; and such, according to his creed, was the great end of justice. So thinking, he summoned to his presence his trustiest aJguazil ; a gaunt, hungry -looking varlet, clad, accord- ing to the custom of his order, in the ancient Spanish garb— a broad black beaver, turned up at the sides; a quaint ruff, a small black cloak dangling from his shoulders; rusty black under-clothes that set off his spare wiry form; while in his hand he bore a slender white wand, the dreaded insignia of his office. Such was the legal bloodhound of the ancient Spanish breed, that he put upon the traces of the unlucky water-car- rier ; and such was his speed and certainty that he was upon the haunches of poor Peregil before he had returned to his dwelling, and brought both >iitt» and his donkey before the dis- penser of justice. The Alcalde bent upon him one of his most terrific frowns. "Hark ye, culprit," roared he in a voice that made the knees of the little Gallego smite together,—' ' Hark, ye culprit 1 there is no need of denying thy guilt : everything is known to nae. A gallows is the proper reward for the crime thou hast commit- ted, but I am merciful, and readily listen to reason. The man that has been murdered in thy house was a Moor, an infidel, 116 THE ALHAMBRA. the enemy of our faith. It was doubtless in a fit of religious zeal that thou hast slain him. I wiU be indulgent, therefore ; render up the property of which thou hast robbed him, and we will hush the matter up." The poor water-carrier called upon all the saints to witness his innocence; alas! not one of them appeared, and if there had, the Alcalde would have disbelieved the whole kalendar. The water-carrier related the whole story of the dying Moor with the straightforward simplicity of truth, but it was all ia vain: "WUt thou persist in saying," demanded the judge, " that this Moslem had neither gold nor jewels, which were the object of thy cupidity?" "As I hope to be saved, your worship," replied the water- carrier, "he had nothing but a small box of sandalwood, which ho bequeathed to me in reward of my services." "A box of sandalwood! a box of sasidal wood!" exclaimed the Alcalde, his eyes sparkling at the idea of precious jewels, "and where is this box? where have you concealed it?" "An' it please your grace," replied the water-carrier, "it is In one of the panniers of my mule, and heartily at the service of your worship." He had hardly spoken the words when the keen alguazil darted off and reappeared in an instant with the mysterious box of sandal wood. The Alcalde opened it with an eager and trembling hand ; all pressed forward to gaze upon the treasures it was expected to contain; when, to their disappointment, nothing appeared within but a parchment scroll, covered with Arabic characters, and an end of a waxen taper ! When there is nothing to be gained by the conviction of a prisoner, justice, even in Spain, is apt to be impartial. The Alcalde, having recovered from his disappointment and found there was really no booty in the case, now listened dispassion- ately to the explanation of the water-carrier, which was cor- roborated by the testimony of his wife. Being convinced, therefore, of his innocence, he discharged him frorc. arrest ; nay more, he permitted him to carry off the Moor's legacy, the box of sandal wood and its contents, as the well-merited reward of his humanity ; but he retained his donkey in payment of cost and charges. Behold the tmfortunate little GaUego reduced once more to the necessity of being his own water-carrier, and trudging up to the weU of the Alhambra with a great earthen jar upon his shoulder. As he toiled up the hill in the heat of a summer noon LEGEND OF TEE MOORS LEGACY. 117 his usual good-humour forsook him. "Dog of an Alcalde!" would he cry, "to rob a poor man of the means of his subsist- ence — of the best friend he had in the world!" And then, at the remembrance of the beloved companion of his labours, all the kindness of his nature would break forth. ' ' Ah, donkey of my heart !" would he exclaim, resting his burden on a stone, and wiping the sweat from his brow, "Ah, donkey of my heart ! I warrant me thou thinkest of thy old master ! I warrant me thou missest the water jars — poor beast !" To add to his afOictions his wife received him, on his return home, with whimperings and repinings; she had clearly the vantage-ground of him, having warned him not to commit the egregious act of hospitahty that had brought on him all these misfortunes, and like a knowing woman, she took every occa- sion to throw her superior sagacity in his teeth. If ever her children lacked food, or needed a new garment, she would an- swer with a snear, " Go to your father; he's heir to king Chico of the Alhambra. Ask him to help you out of the Moor's strong box." Was ever poor mortal more soundly punished, for having done a good action ! The tmlucky PeregU was grieved in flesh and spirit, but stiU he bore meekly with the railings of his spouse. At length one evening, when, after a hot day's toU, she taunted him in the usual manner, he lost all patience. He did not venture to retort upon her, but his eye rested upon the box of sandal wood, which lay on a shelf with Ud half open, as if laughing ia mockery of his vexation. Seizing it up he dashed it with indignation on the floor. ' ' Unlucky was the day that I ever set eyes on thee," he cried, "or sheltered thy master beneath my roof." As the box struck the floor the lid flew wide open, and the parchment scroll rolled forth. Peregil sat regarding the scroll for some time in moody silence. At length rallying his ideas, "Who knows," thought he, "but this writing may be of some importance, as the Moor seems to have guarded it with such care." Picking it up, therefore, he put it in his bosom, and the next morning, as he was crying water through the streets, he stopped at the shop of a Moor, a native of Tangiers, who sold trinkets and perfumery in the Zacatin, and asked him to explain the contents. The Moor road the scroU attentively, then stroked his beard and smiled. "This manuscript," said he, "is a form of incan- tation for tho recovery of hidden tropsure, that is under the 118 THE ALITAMBliA. power of enchantment. It is said to have such virtue that the strongest bolts and bars, nay the adamantine rock itself "will yield before it." "Bah! "cried the Uttle Gallego, "what is all that to me? I am no enchanter, and know nothing of buried treasure." So saying he shoiildered his water-jar, left the seroll in the hands of the Moor, and trudged forward on his daily rounds. That evening, however, as he rested himself about twilight at the well of the Alhambra, he found a number of gossips as' sembled at the place, and their conversation, as is not unusual at that shadowy hour, turned upon old tales and traditions of a supernatural nature. Being aU poor as rats, they dwelt with peculiar fondness upon the popular theme of enchanted riches left by the Moors in various parts of the Alhambra. Above all, they concurred in the belief that there were great treasures buried deep in the earth under the tower of the Seven Floors. These stories made an unusual impression on the mind of honest PeregU, and they sank deeper and deeper into his thoughts as he returned alone down the darlding avenues. " If, after aU, there should be treasure hid beneath that tower — and if the scroU I left with the Moor should enable me to got at it !" In the sudden ecstasy of the thought he had wcU nigh let fall his water-jar. That night he tumbled and tossed, and could scarcely get a wink of sleep for the thoughts that were bewildering his brain. In the morning, bright and early, .he repaired to the shop of the Moor, and told him all that was passing in his mind. "You can read Arabic," said he, "suppose we go together to the tower and try the effect of the charm; if it fails we are no worse off than before, but if it succeeds we wiU share equally all the treasure we may discover." "Hold," replied the Moslem, "this writing is not sufficient of itself ; it must be read at midnight, by the light of a taper singularly compounded and prepared, the ingredients of which are not within my reach. Without such taper the scroll is of no avail." "Say no morel" criea the Uttle Gallego. "I have such a taper at hand and will bring it here in a moment." So saying he hastened home, and soon returned with the end of a yellow wax taper that he had found in the box of sandal wood. The Moor felt it, an J smelt to it. " Sere are rare and costly perfumes," said he, "combined with this yellow wax. This is the kind of taper specified in the scroU. While this bums, tha LEOBND OF THE MOORS LEGACY. 119 strongest walls and most secret caverns will remain open ; woe to him, however, who lingers within until it be extinguished. He will remain enchanted with the treasure." It was now agreed between them to try the charm that very night. At a late hour, therefore, when nothing was stirring but bats and owls, they ascended the woody hUl of the Alham- bra, and approached that awful tower, shrouded by trees and rendered formidable by so many traditionary tales. By the light of a lantern, they groped their way through bushes, and over fallen stones, to the door of a vault beneath the tower. With fear and trembhng they descended a flight of steps cut into the rock. It led to an empty chamber, damp and drear, from which another flight of steps led to a deeper vault. In this way they descended four several flights, lead- ing into as many vaults, one below the other, but the floor of the fourth was sohd, and though, according to tradition, there remained three vaults stiU below, it was said to be impossible to penetrate farther, the residue being shut up by strong en- chfintment. The air of this vault was damp and chilly, and had an earthy smeU, and the light scarce cast forth any rays. They paused here for a time in breathless suspense, until they faintly heard the clock of the watch tower strike midnight; upon this they Ut the waxen taper, which diffused an odour of myrrh, and frankincense, and storax. The Moor began to read in a hurried voice. He had scarce finished, when there was a noise as of subterraneous thunder. The earth shook, and the floor yawning open disclosed a flight of steps. Trembling with awe they descended, and by the light of the lantern found themselves in. another vaidt, covered with Arabic inscriptions. In the centre stood a great chest, secured with seven bands of steel, at each end of which sat an enchanted Moor in armour, but motionless as a statue, being controlled by the power of the incantation. Before the chest wore several jars filled with gold and silver and precious stones. In the largest of these they thrust their arms up to the elbow, and at every dip hauled forth hands-full of broad yellow pieces of Moorish gold, or bracelets and ornaments of the same precious metal, while occasionally a necklace of oriental pearl would stick to their fingers. StiU they trembled and breathed short while cramming their pockets with the spoils ; and cast many a f earf lil glance at the two enchanted Moors, who sat grim and motionless, glaring upon them with unwiijdiig eyes. At length, struck with a sudden panic at 320 THIS ALHAMBRA. some fancied noise, tbey both rushed up the staircase, t'lmbled over one another into the upper apartment, overturned and extinguished the waxen taper, and the pavement again closed ■with a thundering sound. Filled with dismay, they did not pause until they had groped their way out of the tower, and beheld the stars shin- iag through the trees. Then seating themselves upon the grass, they divided the spoil, determining to content them- selves for the present with this mere skimming of the jars, but to return on some future night and drain them to the bot- tom. To make sure of each other's good faith, also, they divided the talismans between them, one retaining the scroll and the other the taper; this done, they set ofE with light hearts and well lined pockets for Granada. As they wended their way down the hill, the shrewd Moor whispered a word of counsel in the ear of the simple little water-carrier. "Friend PeregQ," said he, "all this affair must be kept a profound secret untU we have secm-ed the treasure and con- veyed it out of harm's way. If a whisper of it gets to the ear of the Alcalde we are undone !" "Certainly!" replied the GaUego; "nothing can be more true." "Friend PeregQ," said the Moor, "you are a discreet man, and I make no doubt can keep a secret; but — you have a wife — " "She shall not know a word of it !" replied the little water- carrier sturdily. "Enough," said the Moor, "I depend upon thy discretion and thy promise." Never was promise more positive and sincere; but alas! what man can keep a secret from his wife? Certainly not such a one as PeregU the water-carrier, who was one of the most loving and tractable of husbands. On his return home he found his wife moping in a comer. " Mighty well !" cried she, as he entered; "you've come at lost; after rambling about untU this hour of the night. I wonder you have not brought home another Moor as a house- mate." Then bursting into tears she began to wring her hands and smite her breast. "Unhappy woman that I am!" exclaimed she, ' ' what will become of me ! My house stripped and plundered by lawyers and alguazils ; my husband a do-no- good that no longer brings home bread for his family, but LEGKh'D OF THE MOOIVH LEGACY. 121 goes rambling about, day and night, with infidel Moors. Oh, my children ! my children ! what will become of us ; we shall all have to beg in the streets !" Honest PeregU was so moved by the distress of his spouse, that he could not help whimpering also. His heart was as full as his pocket, and not to be restrained. Thrusting his hand into the latter he hatded forth three or foiir broad gold pieces and shpped them into her bosom. The poor woman stared with astonishment, and could not understand the meaning of this golden shower. Before she could recover her surprise, the little Gallego drew forth a chain of gold and dangled it before her, capering with exultation, his mouth distended fi-om ear to ear. "Holy Virgin protect us!" exclaimed the wife. ''What hast thou been doing, PeregU? Surely thou hast not been committing murder and robbery !" The idea scarce entered the brain of the poor woman than it became a certainty with her. She saw a prison and a gallows in the distance, and a httle bandy-legged Gallego dangling pendant from it; and, overcome by the horrors conjured up by her imagination, fell into violent hysterics. What could the poor man do? He had no other means of pacifying his wife and dispeUing the phantoms of her fancy. than by relating the whole stoi-y of his good fortune. This, however, he did not do until he had exacted from her the most solemn promise to keep it a profound secret from every living being. To describe her joy would be impossible. She flung her arms round the neck of her husband, and almost strangled bim with her caresses. "Now, wife!" exclaimed the Mttle man with honest exultation, "what say you now to the Moor's legacy? Henceforth never abuse me for helping a-feUow crea- ture in distress. " The honest G-allego retired to his sheepskin mat, and slept as soundly as if on a bed of down. Not so his wife.— She emptied the whole contents of his pockets upon the mat, and sat aU night counting gold pieces of Arabic coin, trying on necklaces and ear-rings, and fancying the figure she should one day make when permitted to enjoy her riches. On the following morning the honest Gallego took a broad golden coin, and repaired with it to a jeweller's shop in the Zacatin to offer it for sale ; pretending to have found it among the ruins of the Alhambra. The jeweller saw that it had an 122 THE ALIIA^JBUA. Arabic inscription and was of the purest gold; he offered, however, but a third of its valuQ, with which the water-carrier was perfectly content. Peregil now bought new clothes for his Utile flock, and all kinds of toys, together with ample pro- visions for a hearty meal, and returning .to his dwelling set aU his children dancing around him, while he capered id the midst, the happiest of fathers. The wife of the water-carrier kept her promise of secrecy with surprising strictness. For a whole day and a half she went about with a look of mystery and a heart swelling almost to bursting, yet she held her peace, though surrounded by her gossips. It is true she could not help giving herseK a few airs, apologized for her ragged dress, and talked of ordering a new basquina all trimmed with gold lace and bugles, and a new lace mantUla. She threw out hints of her husband's intention of leaving off his trade of water- carryioig, as it did not alto- gether agree with his health. In fact she thought they should aU retire to the country for the summer, that the children might have the benefit of the mountain air, for there was no living ia the city in this siiltry season. The neighbours stared at each other, and thought the poor woman had lost her wits, and her airs and graces and elegant pretensions were the theme of universal scoflSng and merriment among her friends, the moment her back was turned. If she restrained herseK abroad, however, she indemnified herself at home, and, putting a string of rich oriental pearls round her neck, Moorish bracelets on her arms ; an aigrette of diamonds on her head, sailed backwards and forwards in her slattern rags about the room, now and then stopping to f dmire herself in a piece of broken mirror. Nay, in the impulse of her simple vanity, she could not resist on one occasion show- ing herself at the window, to enjoy the effect of her finery on the passers by. As the fates woiild have it, Pedrillo Pedrugo, the meddle- some barber, was at this moment sitting idly in his shop on the opposite side of the street, when his ever watchful eyo caught the sparkle of a diamond. In an instant he was at his loop-hole, reconnoitring the slattern spouse of the water-car- rier, decorated with the splendour of an eastern bride. No sooner had he taken an accurate inventory of her ornaments than ho posted off with aU speed to the Alcalde. In a little while the hungi-y alguazU was again on the scent, and before LEGEKD OF THE MOOR'S LEGACY. 123 the day was over, the unfortunate Peregil was again dragged into the presence of the judge. "How is this, villain !" cried the Alcalde in a furious voice. "Tou told me that the infidel who died iu your house left nothing behind but an empty coffer, and now I hear of your wife flaunting ia her rags decked out with pearls and dia- monds. Wretch, that thou art! prepare to render up the spoUs of thy miserable victim, and to swing on the gaUows that is already tired of waiting for thee. " The terrified water-carrier feU on his knees, and made a full relation of the m.arvellous manner in which he had gained his wealth. The Alcalde, the alguazil, and the inquisitive barber listened with greedy ears to tliis Arabian tale of enchanted treasure. The alguazil was despatched to bring the Moor who had assisted in the incantation. The Moslem entered half fright- ened out of his wits at finding himself in the hands of the harpies of the law. When he beheld the water-carrier standing with sheepish look and downcast countenance, he comprehended the whole matter. "Miserable animal," said he, as he passed near him, "did I not warn thee against babbhng to thy wife?" The story of the Moor coincided exactly with that of his col- league ; but the Alcalde affected to be slow of beUef , and threw out menaces of imprisonment and rigorous investigation. "Softly, good Senor Alcalde," said the Mussulman, who by this time had recovered his usual shrewdness and seK-posses- sioui "Let us not mar fortune's favours in the scramble for them. Nobody knows any thing of this matter but ourselves ; let us keep the secret. There is wealth enough in the cave to enrich us all. Promise a fair division, and all shall bo pro- duced; refuse, and the cave shall remain for ever closed." The Alcalde consulted apart with the alguazil. The latter was an old fox, in his profession. "Promise any thing, " said he, ' ' until you get possession of the treasure. You may then seize upon the whole, and r£ he and his accompUce dare to murmur, threaten them with the faggot and the stake as infidels and sorcerers." The Alcalde reUshed the advice. Smoothing his brow and turning to the Moor,— "This is a strange story," said he, "and may be true, but I must have ocular proof of it. This very night you must repeat the incantation in my presence. If there bo really such treasure, we will share it amicably between tis, and say nothing further of the matter; if ye have deceived 124 THE ALIIAMBRA. me, expect no mercy at my hands. In the mean time you must remain in custody." The Moor and the water-carrier cheerfully agreed to these conditions, satisfied that the event would prove the truth of their words. Towards midnight the Alcalde sallied forth secretly, attended by the alguazil and the meddlesome barber, all strongly armed. They conducted the Moor and the water-carrier as prisoners, and were provided with the stout donkey of the latter, to bear ofE the expected treasure. They arrived at the tower without being observed, and tying the donkey to a fig-tree, descended into the fourth vault of the tower. The scroU was produced, the yellow waxen taper lighted, and the Moor read the form of incantation. The earth trembled as before, and the pavement opened with a thundering sound, disclosing the narrow flight of steps. The Alcalde, the alguazil, and the barber were struck aghast, and could not summon courage to descend. The Moor and the water-carrier entered the lower vault and found the two Moors seated as before, silent and motionless. They removed two of the great jars, flUed with golden coin and precious stones. The water-carrier bore them up one by one upon his shoulders, but though a strong- backed little man, and accustomed to carry burdens, he staggered beneath their weight, and found; when slung on each side of his donkey, they were as much as the animal could bear. ^ " Let us be content for the present," said the Moor; "here is as much treasure as we can carry off without being perceived, and enough to make us all wealthy to our heart's desire." '"Is there more treasure remaining behind?" demanded the Alcalde. "The greatest prize of all," said the Moor; "ahugecoffer; bound with bands of steel, and filled with "pearls and precious stones." "Let us have up the cofEer by all means," cried the grasping Alcalde. "I will descend for no more," said the Moor, doggedly. ' ' Enough is enough for a reasonable man ; more is superfluous." "And I," said the water-carrier, "will bring up no further burthen to break the back of my poor donkey. " Finding commands, threats, and entreaties equally vain, the Alcalde turned to Ms two adherents. "Aid me," said he, "to bring up the coffer, and its contents shall be divided between LEOEND OF THE MOORS LEGACY. 125 US." So saying he descended tlie steps, followed, with trem- bling reluctance, by the alguazil and the barber. No sooner did the Moor behold them fairly earthed than he extinguished the yellow taper: the pavement closed with its usual crash, and the three worthies remained buried in its womb. He then hastened up the different flights of steps, nor stopped Until in the open air. The httle water-carrier followed him as fast as his short legs would permit. "What hast thou done?" cried Peregil, as soon as he could recover breath. "The Alcalde and the other two are shut up in the vault !" ' "It is the will of Allah!" said the Moor, devoutly. "And will you not release them?" demanded the GaUego. ' ' Allah forbid !" rephed the Moor, smoothing his beard. ' ' It is written in the book of fate that they shall remain enchanted untn some future adventurer shall come to break the charm. The will of God be done !" So saying he hurled the end of the waxen taper far among the gloomy thickets of the glen. There was now no remedy ; so the Moor and the water-carrier proceeded with the richly -laden donkey towards the city : nor could honest PeregU. refrain from hugging and kissing his long- eared feUow-labourer, thus restored to him from the clutches of the law; and, in fact, it is doubtful which gave the simple- hearted little man most joy at the moment, the gaining of the treasure or the recovery of the donkey. The two partners in good luck divided their spoil amicably and fairly, excepting that the Moor, who had a httle taste for trinketry, made out to get into his heap the most of the pearls and precious stones, and other baubles, but then he always gave the water-carrier in heu magnificent jewels of massy gold foiu- times the size, with which the latter was heartily content. They took care not to hnger within reach of accidents, but made off to enjoy their wealth undisturbed in other countries. The Moor returned into Africa, to his native city of Tetuan, and the GaUego, with his wife, his children and his donkey, m^ade the best of his way to Portugal. Here, under the ad- monition and tuition of his wife, he became a personage of some consequence, for she made the httle man array his long body and short legs in doublet and hose, with a feather in his hat and a sword by his side ; and, laying aside the tamUiai- appella- tion of Pere^, assume the more sonorous title of Don Pedro GiL His progeny grow up a thriving and merry-hearted, 126 TUE ALHAMDRA. though short and bandy-legged generation ; while the Senora Gn, be-fringed, be-laced, and be-tasselled from her head to -her heels, with ghttering rings on every finger, became a model of slattern fashion and finery. As to the Alcalde, and his adjuncts, they remained shut up imder the great tower of the Seven Floors, and there they re- main speU-bound at the present day. Whenever there shall be a lack in Spain of pimping barbers, sharking alguazils, and corrupt Alcaldes, they may be Sought after ; but if they have to wait im-tU such time for their deliverance, there is danger of their enchantment enduring until doomsday. VISITOES TO THE ALHAMBEA. It is now nearly three months since I took up my abode in the Alhambra, during which time the progress of the season has wrought many changes. When I first arrived every thing was in the freshness of May ; the foliage of the trees was stiU tender and transparent ; the pomegranate had not yet shed its briUiant crimson blossoms ; the orchards of the Xenil and the Darro were in full bloom ; the rocks were hung with wild flow- ers, and Granada seemed completely surrounded by a wilder- ness of roses, among which innumerable nightingales sang, not merely in the night, but all day long. The advance of summer has withered the rose and silenced the nightingale, and the distant country begins to look parched and simburnt ; though a perennial verdure reigns immediately round the city, and in the deep narrow valleys at the foot of the snow-capped mountains. The Alhambra possesses retreats graduated to the heat of the weather, among which the most pecuhar is the almost subter- ranean apartment of the baths. This stiU retains its ancient oriental character, though stamped with the touching traces of decline. At the entrance, opening into a small court for- merly adorned with flowers, is a haJl, moderate in size, but Hght and graceful in architecture. It is overlooked by a small gallery supported by marble pillars and moresco arches. An alabaster fountain in the centre of the pavement still throws up a jet of water to cool the place. On each side are deep alcoves with raised platforms, where the bathers after their ablutions VISITORS TO TUE ALHAMBRA. 127 reclined on luxurious cushions, soothed to voluptuous repose by the fragrance of the perfumed air and the notes of soft music from the gallery. Beyond this hall are the interior chambers, still more private and retired, where no Ught is admitted but through small apertures in the vaulted ceil- ings. Here was the sanctum sanctorum of female privacy, ■where the beauties of the harem indulged in the luxury of the baths. A soft mysterious hght reigns through the place, the broken baths are stiU there, and traces of ancient elegance. The prevailing silence and obscurity have made this a fa- voiirite resort of bats, who nestle during the day in the dark nooks and corners, and, on being disturbed, flit mysteriously about the twihght chambers, heightening in an indescribable degree their air of desertion and decay. In this cool and elegant though dilapidated retreat, which has the freshness and seclusion of a grotto, I have of late passed the sultry hours of the day; emerging toward sunset, and bathing, or rather swimming, at night in the great reservoir of the main court. In this way I have been enabled in a mea- sure to counteract the relaxing and enervating influence of the climate. My dream of absolute sovereignty, however, is at an end : I was roused from it lately by the report of fire-arms, which reverberated among tbe towers as if the castle had been taken by surprise. On sallying forth I found an old cavaHer with a nimiber of domestics in possession of the haU of ambassadors. He was an ancient Count, who had come up from his palace in Granada to pass a short time in the Alhambra for the benefit of purer air, and who, being a veteran and inveterate sports- man, was endeavouring to get an appetite for his breakfast by shooting at swallows from the balconies. It was a haiinless amusement, for though, by the alertness of his attendants in loading his pieces, he was enabled to keep up a brisk fire, I could not accuse him of the death of a single swallow. Nay, the birds themselves seemed to enjoy the sport, and to deride his want of skiU, skimming in circles close to the balconies, and twittering as they darted by. The arrival of this old gentleman has in some measure changed the aspect of afliairs, but has likewise afforded matter for agreeable speculation. We have tacitly shared the empire between us, like the last kings of Granada, excepting that we maintain a most amicable alliance. He reigns absolute over the Court of the Lions and its adjacent halls, while I maintain 128 THE ALUAMBBA. peaceful possession of the region of the baths and the httle garden of Lindaraxa. We take our naeals together imder the arcades of the court, where the fountains cool the air, and bubbling riUs run along the channels of the marble pavement. In the evening, a domestic circle gathers about the worthy old cavaher. The countess comes up from the city, with a favourite daughter about sixteen years of age. Then there are the official dependents of the Count, his chaplain, his law- yer, his secretary, his steward, and others officers and agents of his extensive possessions. Thus he holds a kind of domestic court, where every person seeks to contribute to his amiise- ment, without sacrificing his own pleasure or self-respect. In fact, whatever may be said of Spanish pride, it certainly does not enter into social or domestic hfe. Among no people are the relations between kindred more cordial, or between supe- rior and dependent more frank and^ genial ; in these respects there still remains, in the provincial life of Spain, nauch of the vaunted simplicity of the olden times. The most interesting member of this family group, howevei", is the daughter of the Count, the charming though almost infan- tile little Carmen. Her form has not yet attained its maturity, but has already the exquisite symmetry and pliant grace so prevalent in this country. Her blue eyes, fair complexion, and light hair are unusual in Andalusia, and give a mildness and gentleness to her demeanour, in contrast to the usual fire of Spanish beauty, but in perfect unison with the guileless and confiding innocence of her manners. She has, however, all the innate aptness and versatility of her fascinating coimtry- women, and sings, dances, and plays the guitar and other instruments to admiration. A few days after taking up his residence in the Alhambra, the Count gave a domestic fete on his saint's day, assembling round him the members of his family and household, while several old servants came from his distant possessions to pay tjietr reverence to him, and par- take of the good cheer. This patriarchal spirit which characterized the Spanish no- biUty in the days of their opulence has declined with their fortunes ; but some who, like the Count, stiU retain their an- cient family possessions, keep up a httle of the ancient system, and have their estates overrun and almost eaten up by genera- tions of idle retainers. According to this magnificent old Spanish system, in which the nationail pride and generosity bore equal parts, a superannuated servant was never turned VISITORS TO THE ALUAMBRA. 129 off, but became a charge for the rest of his days; nay, his children, and his children's children, and often their relations, to the right and left, became gradually entailed upon the family. Hence the huge palaces of the Spanish nobility, "which have such an air of empty ostentation from the great- ness of their size compared with the mediocrity and scanti- ness of their furniture, were absolutely required in the golden days of Spain by the patriarchal habits of their possessors. They were little better than vast barracks for the hereditary generations of hangers-on that battened at the expense of a Spanish noble. The worthy Count, who has estates in various parts of the kingdom, assures me that some-of them barely feed the hordes of dependents nestled upon them ; who con- sider themselves entitled to be maintained upon the place, rent free, because their forefathers have been so for generations. The domestic fete of the Count broke in upon the usual still life of the Alhambra. Music and laughter resounded through its late silent halls ; there were groups of the guests amusing themselves about the galleries and gardens, and oflacious ser- vants from town hurrying through the courts, bearing viands to the ancient kitchen, which was again alive with the tread of cooks and scullions, and blazed with unwonted fires. The feast, for a Spanish set dinner is UteraUy a feast, was laid in the beautiful moresco ball called "la sala de las dos Her- manas," (the saloon of the two sisters;) the table, groaned with abundance, and a joyous conviviality prevailed round the board; for though the Spaniards are. generally an abstemious people, they are complete revellers at a banquet. For my own part, there was something peculiarly interest- ing in thus sitting at a feast, in the royal halls of the Alham- bra, given by the representative of one of its most renowned conquerors; for the venerable Count, though unwarMke him- self, is the lineal descendant and representative of the " Great Captain," the illustrious Gonsalvo of Cordova, whose sword he guards in the archives of his palace at Granada. The banquet ended, the company adjourned to the ball of ambassadors. Here every one contributed ' to the general amusement by exerting some peculiar talent ; singing, impro- vismg, telling wonderful tales, or dancing to that eul-pervad- ing talisman of Spanish pleasure, the guit&r. The life and charm of the whole assemblage, however, was the gifted little Carmen. She took her part in two or three scenes from Spanish comedies, exhibiting a charming dra- 130 THE ALHAMBRA. matic talent ; she gave imitations of the popular Italian sing- ers, -with singular and whimsical feUcity, and a rare quality of voice; she imitated the dialects, dances and ballads of the gipsies and the neighbouring peasantry, but did every thing with a facility, a neatness, a grace, and an all-pervading pret- tiness, that were perfectly fascinatiag. The great charm of her performances, however, was their being free from all pre- tension or ambition of display. She seemed unconscious of the extent of her own talents, and in fact is accustomed only to exert them casually, like a child, for the amusement of the domestic circle. Her observation and tact must be remark- ably quick, for her life is passed in the bosom of her family, and she can only have had casual and transient glances at the various characters and traits, brought out impromptu in moments of domestic hilarity, hke the one in question. It is pleasing to see the fondness and admiration with which every one of the household regards her: she is never spoken of, even by the domestics, by any other appellation than that of La Niiia, "the child," an appellation which thus apphed has something peculiarly kind and endearing in the Spanish lan- guage. Never shall I think of the Alhambra without remembering the lovely little Carmen sporting in happy and innocent girl- hood in its marble halls ; dancing to the sound of the Moorish castanets, or mingling the silver warbling of her voice with the music of the fountains. On this festive occasion several curious and amusing legends and traditions were told; many of which have escaped my memory ; but of those that most struck me, I will endeavour to shape forth some entertainment for the reader. LEGEND OP PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL; OR, THE PILGBm OF LOVE.' There was once a Moorish King of Granada who had but one son, whom he named Ahmed, to which his courtiers added the surname of al Kamel, or the perfect, from the indubitable signs of super-excellence which they perceived in him in his very infancy. The astrologers countenanced them in their LEGEND OF PBINOE AHMED AL KAMEL. 131 foresight, predicting every thing in his favour that could make a perfect prince and a prosperous sovereign. One cloud only rested upon his destiny, and even that was of a roseate hue. He would be of an amorous temperament, and run great perils from the tender passion. If, however, he could be kept from^ the allurements of love imtU of mature age, these dan- gers would be averted, and his Ufe thereafter he one uninter- rupted course of feUcity. To prevent all danger of the kind, the king wisely deter- mined to rear the prince in a seclusion, where he should never see a female face nor hear even the name of love. For this purpose he buHt a beautiful palace on the brow of a hill above the Alhambra, in the midst of deUghtful gardens, but sur- rounded by lofty walls ; being, in fact, the same palace known at the present day by the name of the Generalise. In this palace the youthfvil prince was shut up and entrusted to the guardianship and instruction of Ebon Bonabbon, one of the wisest and dryest of Arabian sages, who had passed the great- est part of his Ufe in'Egypt, studying hieroglyphics and mak- ing researches among the tombs and pyramids, and who saw more charms in an Egyptian mummy than in the most tempt- ing of hving beauties. The sage was ordered to instruct the prince in aU kinds of knowledge but one — ^he is to be kept utterly ignorant of love — "use every precaution for the pur- pose you may think proper," said the king, "but remember, oh Ebon Bonabbon, if my son leams aught of that forbidden knowledge, while imder your care, your head shall answer for it." A withered smQe came over the dry visage of the wise Bonahbon at the menace. "Let your majesty's heart be as easy about yom- son as mine is about my head. Am I a man likely to give lessons in the idle passion?" * Under the vigilant care of the philosopher, the prince grew up in the seclusion of the palace and its gardens. He had black slaves to attend upon him— hideous mutes, who knew nothing of love, or if they did, had not words to communicate it. His mental endowments were the pecuhar care of Ebon Bonabbon, who sought to initiate him into the abstruse lore of Egypt, hut in this the prince made httle progi-ess, and it was soon evident that he had no turn for philosophy. He was, however, amazingly ductile for a youthfiil piince ; ready to f oUow any advice and always guided by the last coun- cillor. He suppressed his yawns, and listened patiently to the long and learned discourses of Ebon Bonabbon, from which he 132 THE ALUAMBRA. imbibed a smattering of various kinds of knowledge, and thus happily" attained his twentieth year, a miracle of princely wis- dom, but totally ignorant of love. About this time, however, a change came over the conduct of the prince. He completely abandoned his studies and took to strolling about the gardens and musing by the side of the fountains. He had been taught a little music among his vari- ous accompUshm^ents ; it now engrossed a great part of his time, and a turn for poetry became apparent. The sage Ebon Bonabbon took the alarm, and endeavoured to work these idle humours out of him. by a severe course of algebra ; but the prince turned from it with distaste. " I cannot endure alge- bra," said he ; " it is an abomination to me. I want something that speaks more to the heart." The sage Ebon Bonabbon shook his dry head at the words. " Here's an end to philosophy," thought he. " The prince has discovered he has a heart !" He now kept anxious watch upon his pupH, and saw that the latent tenderness of his nature was in activity, and only wanted an object. He wandered about the gardens of the GcnerahfEe in an intoxication of feelings of which he knew not the cause. Sometimes he would sit plunged in a delicious reverie ; then he would seize his lute and draw from it the most touching notes, and then throw it aside, and break forth into sighs and ejacula^ tions. By degrees this loving disposition began to extend to inani- mate objects ; he had his favourite flowers which he cherished with tender; assiduity then he became attached to various trees, and there was one in particular, of a graceful form and drooping foliage, on which he lavished his amorous devo- tion, carving his name on its bark, hanging garlands on its branches, and singing couplets in its praise, to the accompani- ment of his lute. The sage Ebon Bonabbon was alarmed at this excited state of his pupil. He saw him on the very brink of forbidden knowledge — the least hint might reveal to him the fatal secret. Trembling for the safety of the prince, and the security of his own head, he hastened to draw him from the seductions of the garden, and shut him up in the highest tower of the Generalise. It contained beautiful apartments, and com- manded an almost boundless prospect, but was elevated far above that atmosphere of sweets and those witching bowers so dangerous to the feelings of the too susceptible Ahmed. LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 133 "WTiat was to be done, however, to reconcile him to this restraint and to beguile the tedious hours? He had exhausted almost all kinds of agreeable knowledge; and algebra was not to be mentioned. Fortunately Ebon Bonabbon had been instructed, when in Egypt, in the language of birds, by a Jewish Rabbin, who had received it in lineal transmission from Solomon the wise, who had been taught it by the Queen of Sheba. At the very mention of such a study the eyes of the prince sparkled with animation, and he applied Mmseli to it with such avidity, that he soon became as great an adept as his master. The tower of the Generalifie was no longer a solitude ; he had companions at hand with whom he could converse. The fiirst acquaintance he formed was with a hawk who had built his nest in a crevice of the lofty battlements, from whence he soared far and wide in quest of prey. The prince, however, found little to like or esteem in him. He was a mere pirate of the air, swaggering and boastful, whose talk was all about rapine, and carnage, and desperate exploits. His next acquaintance was an owl, a mighty wise-looking bird, with a large head and staring eyes, who sat blinking and goggling aU day in a hole in the wall, but roamed forth at night. He had gveat pretensions to wisdom ; talked something of astrology and the moon, and hinted at the dark sciences, but he was grievously given to metaphysics, and the prince found his prosings were more ponderous than those of the sage Ebon Bonabbon. Then there was a bat, that hung all day by his heels in the dark comer of a vault, but sallied out in a slip-shod-style at twilight. He, however, had but twilight ideas on all subjects, derided things of which he had taken but an imperfect view, and seemed to take delight in nothing. Beside these there was a swallow, with whom the prince was at first much taken. He was a smart talker, but restless, bustling, and for ever on the wing; seldom remaining long enough for any continued conversation. He turned out in the end to be a mere smatterer, who did but skim over the surface of things, pretending to know every thing, but knowing noth- ing thoroughly. These were the only feathered associates with whom the prince had any opportunity of exercising his newly acqiured language ; the tower was too high for any other birds to fre- quent it. He soon grew weary of his new acquaintances, 134 THE ALUAMBUA. whose conversation spake so little to the head and nothing to the heart ; and gi-adually relapsed into his loneliness. A win- ter passed away, spring opened with aU its bloom, and verdure, and breathing sweetness, and the happy time arrived for birds to pair and build their nests. Suddenly, as it were, a universal burst of song and melody broke forth from the groves and gardens of the GeneraUfie, and reached the prince in the solitude of his tower. From every side he heard the same universal theme— love — love— love— chaunted forth and responded to in every variety of note and tone. The prince listened in silence and perplexity. " What can be tliis love," thought he, " of which the world seems so full, and of which I know nothing?" He applied for information to his friend the hawk. The ruffian bird answered in a tone of scorn, — "You must apply," said he, "to the vulgar, peaceable birds of earth, who are made for the prey of us princes of the air. My trade is war, and fighting my delight. In a word, I am a warrior, and know nothing of this thing called love." The prince turned from him with disgust, and sought the owl in his retreat. "This is a bird," said he, "of peaccfxd habits, and maybe able to solve my question." So he asked the owl to teU him what was this love about which all the birds in the groves below were singing. Upon this the owl put on a look of offended dignity. ' ' My nights," said he, " are taken up in study and research, and my days in ruminating in myself upon all that I have learnt. As to these singing birds of whom you talk, I never listen to them. I despise them and their themes. Allah be praised, I cannot sing. In a word, I am a philosopher, and know nothing of this thing called love." The prince now repaired to the vault where his friend the bat was hanging by the heels, and propounded the same ques- tion. The bat wrinkled up his nose into a most snappish ex- pression. " Why do you disturb me in my morning's nap vfith. such an idle question," said he peevishly. "I only fly by twilight when all birds are asleep, and never trouble myself with then- concerns. I am neither bird nor beast, and I thank heaven for it. I have found out the villainy of the whole of thorn, and hate them, one and all. In a word, I am a mis- anthrope, and know nothing of this thing called love." As a last resort, the prince was now sought the swallow, and stopped him Just as he was circling about the .summit of the tower. The swallow as usual was in a prodigious hurry, and LEGEND OF PRINCE AUMED AL KAMEL. 135 had scarce time to make a reply. " Upon my word," said he, ' ' I have so m.uch pubhc business to attend to, and so many pursuits to follow, that I have had no time to think on the subject. I have every day a thousand visits to pay ; a thou- sand afiEatrs of importance to examine into, that leave me not a naoment of leisure for these httle sing-song matters. In a word, I am a citizen of the world. I know nothing of this thing called love." So saying, the swallow dived into the valley and was out of sight in a moment. The prince remained disappointed and perplexed, but with his curiosity still more piqued by the difficulty of gratifying it. While in this mood his ancient guardian entered the tower. The prince advanced eagerly to meet him. " Oh sage Ebon Bonabbon," cried he, " thou hast revealed to me much of the wisdom of the earth, but there is one thing of which I remain in utter ignorance, and would fain he informed." "My prince has but to make the inquiry, and every thing within the Umited range of his sei-vant's intellect is at his com- mand." "TeUme then, oh most profound of sages, what is the na- ture of this thing called love?" The sage Ebon Bonabbon was struck as with a thxm.derbolt. He trembled and turned pale, and felt as if his head sat but loosely on his shoulders. "What could suggest such a question to my prince?— where could he have learnt so idle a word?" The prince led him to the window of the tower. ' ' Liste:-, oh Ebon Bonabbon !" said he. The sage listened. The night- ingale sat in a thicket below the tower singing to his paramour, the rose ; from every blossomed spray and tufted grove arose a strain of melody, and love— love —love, was still the unvary- ing theme. " Alla h Achbar! God is great!" exclaimed the wise Bonabbon. " Who shall pretend to keep this secret from the hearts of men when even the birds of the air conspire to betray it?" Then turning to Ahmed, "Oh my prince," cried he, "shut thine ears tp these seductive strains. Close thy mind against this dangerous knowledge. Know that this love is the cause of half the ills of wretched mortaUty. It is this which pro- duces bitterness of strife between brethren and friends ; which causes treacherous murder and desolating war. Care and sor- row, weary days and sleepless nights, are its attendants. It withers the bloom and bhghts the joys of youth, and brings 136 THE ALHAMBRA. on the ills and griefs of premature old age. Allah preserve thee, my prince, in total ignorance of this thing called love !" The sage Ebon Bonabbon hastOy retired, leaving the prince plunged in stOl deeper perplexity. It was in vain he at- tempt ed to dismiss the subject from his mind; it still con- tinued uppermost in his thoughts, and teased and exhausted him with vain conjectures. "Surely," said he to himself as he listened to the tuneful strains of the birdB, " there is no sorrow in these notes : every thing seems tenderness and joy. 11 love be a cause of such wretchedness and strife, why are not those birds drooping in sohtude, or tearing each other in pieces, instead of fluttering cheerfully about the groves, or sporting with each other among the flowers?" He lay one morning on his couch meditating on this in- explicable matter. The window of his chamber was open to admit the soft morning breeze which came laden with the per- fume of orange blossoms from the valley of the Darro. The voice of the nightingale was faintly heard, still chanting the wonted theme. As the prince was listening and sighing, there was a sudden rushing noise in the air ; a beautiful dove, pur- sued by a hawk, darted in at the window and fell panting on the floor ; while the pursuer, balked of his prey, soared off to the mountains. The prince took up the gasping bird, smoothed its feathers, and nestled it in his bosom. When he had soothed it by his caresses he put it in a golden cage, and offered it, with his own hands, the whitest and finest of wheat and the purest of water. The bird, however, refused food, and sat drooping and pining, and uttering piteous moans. "What aileth thee?" said Ahmed. "Hast thou not every thing thy heart can wish?" "Alas, no!" replied the dove, " am I not separated from the partner of my heart — and that too in the happy spring-time — the very season of love?" "Of love!" echoed Ahmed. "I pray thee, my pretty bird, canst thou then teU me what is love?" " Too well can I, my prince. It is the torment of one, the felicity of two, the strife and enmity of three. It is a charm which draws two beings together, and imites them by delicious sympathies, making it happiness to be with each other, but misery to be apart. Is there no being to whom you are drawn by these ties of tender affection?" ' ' I like my old teacher, Ebon Bonabbon, better than any LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 137 other being ; but he is often tedious, and I occasionally feel myself happier without his society." ' ' That is not the sympathy I mean. I speak of love, the great mystery and principle of hf e ; the intoxicating revel of youth; the sober dehght of age. Look forth my prince, and behold how at this blest season aU nature is full of love. Every created being has its mate ; the most insignificant bird sings to its param.our; the very beetle woos its lady beetle in the dust, and yon butterflies which you see fluttering high above the tower and toying in the air are happy in each other's love. Alas, my prince ! hast thou spent so many of the precious days of youth without knowing any thing of love ! Is there no gen- tle being of another sex ; no beautiful princess, or lovely damsel Who has ensnared your heart, and filled your bosom with a soft tumult of plealsing pains and tender wishes?" "I begii^ to understand !" said the prince sighing. " Such a tumult I have more than once experienced without knowing the cause ; and where should I seek for an object such as you describe in this dismal sohtude?" A little further conversation ensued, and the first amatory lesson of the prince \fas complete. "Alas!" said he, "if love be indeed such a delight, and its intermption such a misery, Allah forbid that I should mar the joy of any of its votaries." He opened the cage, took out the dove, and, having fondly kissed it, carried it to the window. " Go, happy bird," said he, " rejoice with the partner of thy heart in the days of youth and spring-time. Why should I make thee a fellow prisoner in this dreary tower, where love can never enter?" The dove flapped its wings in rapture, gave one vault into the air, and then swooped downward on whistling wings to the blooming bowers of the Darro. The prince followed him with his eyes, and then gave way to bitter repining. The singing of the birds which once dehghted him now added to his bitterness. Love ! love ! -level ! Alas, poor youth, he now understood the strain. His eyes flashed fire when next he beheld the sage Bonab- bon. "Why hast thou kept me in this abject ignorance?" cried he. "Why has the great mystery and principle of Mfe been withheld from me, in which I find the meanest insect is so learned? Behold all nature is in a revel of dehght. Every created being rejoices with its mate. This — ^this is the love about which I have sought instruction; why am I alone de- 138 THE ALUAMBEA. barred its enjoyment? why hast so much of my youth been wasted without a knowledge of its rapture i" The sage Bonabbon saw that all further reserve was use- less, for the prince had acquired the dangerous and forbidden knowledge. He revealed to him, therefore, the predictions of the astrologers, and the precautions that had been taken in his education to avert the threatened evils. "And now, my priace," added he, "my life is in your hands. Let the king your father discover that you have learned the passion of love while under my guardianship, and my head must an- swer for it." The prince was as reasonable as most young men of his age, and easily listened to the remonstrances of his tutor, since nothing pleaded against them. Beside, he really was at- tached to the sage Bonabbon, and beiug as yet but theoreti- cally acquainted with' the p-fission of love, he consented to confine the knowledge of it co his own bosom, rather than endanger the head of the philosopher. His discretion was doomed, however, to be put to still further proofs. A few mornings afterwards, as he was mminatiag on the battle- ments of the tower, the dove which had been released by him. came hovering in the air, and alighted fearlessly upon his shoulder. The prince fondled it to his breast. "Happy bird," said he, " who can fly, as it were, with the wings of the morning to the uttermost parts of the earth. Where hast thou been since we parted?" "In a far country, my prince; from whence I bring you tidings in reward for my hberty. In the wide compass of my flight, which extends over plain and mountain, as I was soar- ing in the air, I beheld below me a dehghtful garden with all kinds of fruits and flowers. It was in a green meadow on the banks of a meandering stream, and in the centre of the garden was a stately palace. I alighted in one of the bowers to repose after my weary flight ; on the green bank below me was a youthfiil princess in the very sweetness and bloom of hor years. She was surrounded by female attendants, young Hke herself, who decked her with garlands and coronets of flowers ; but no flower of field or garden could compare with her for loveliness. Here, however, she bloomed in secret, for the garden was surrounded by high walls, and no mortal m^an was permitted to enter. When I beheld this beauteous maid thus young, and innocent, and unspotted by the world, I LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL EAMEL. 139 thought, here is the being formed by heaven to inspire my prince with love." The description was as a spark of fire to the combustible heart of Ahmed ; all the latent amorousness of his tempera- ment had at once found an object, and he conceived an immeasurable passion for the princess. He wrote a letter couched in the most impassioned language, breathing his fer- vent devotion, but bewailing the unhappy thraldom of his per- son, which prevented him. from seeking her out, and throwmg himself at her feet. He added couplets of the most tender and moving eloquence, for he was a poet by nature and in- spired by love. He addressed his letter, "To the unknown beauty, from the captive prince Ahmed," then perfuming it with musk and roses, he gave it to the dove. "Away, trustiest of messengers," said he. " Fly over moun- tain, and valley, and river, and plain ; rest not in bower nor set foot on earth, until thou hast given this letter to the mis- tress of my heart." The dove soared high in air, and taking his course darted away in one imdeviating direction. The prince followed him with his eye until he was a mere speck on a cloud, and grad- ually disappeared behind a mountain. Day after day he watched for the return of the messenger of love ; but he watched in vain. He began to accuse him of forgetf ulness, when towards sunset, one evening, the faithful bird fluttered into his apartment, and, faUing at his feet, ex- pired. The arrow of some wanton archer had pierced his breast, yet he had struggled with the lingerings of life to exe- cute his mission. As the prince bent with grief over this gentle martyr to fidelity, he beheld a chain of pearls round his neck, attached to which, beneath his wing, was a small enamelled picture. It represented a lovely princess in the very flower of her years. It was, doubtless, the unknown beauty of the garden: but who and where was she — how had she received his letter— and was this picture sent as a token of an approval of his passion? TJnfortvmately, the death ef the faithful dove left every thing in mystery and doubt. The prince gazed on the pictm-e till his eyes swam with tears. He pressed it to his Mps and to his heart : ho sat for hours contemplating it in an almost agony of tenderness. "Beautiful image!" said he. "Alas, thou art but an imago. Yet thy dewy eyes beam tenderly upon me ; those rosy hps look as though they would speak encouragement. Vain fan- 140 TUE ALHAMBEA. cies ! Have they not looked the same on some more happy rival? But where in this wide world sheiU I hope to find tho original? Who knows what mountains, what realms may separate us? What adverse chance may intervene? Perhaps now, even now, lovers may be crowding around her, while I sit here, a prisoner in a tower, wasting my time in adoration of a painted shadow." The resolution of prince Ahmed was taken. "I will fly from this palace," said he, ' ' which has become an odious prison, and, a pilgrim of love, will seek this unknown princess throughout the world." To escape from the tower in the day, when every one was awake, might be a difficult matter; but at night the palace was shghtly guarded, for no one apprehended any attempt of the kind from the prince, who had always been so passive in his captivity. How was he to guide himself, however, in his darkling flight, being ignorant of the country? He bethought htm. of the owl, who was accustomed to roam at night, and must know every by-lane and secret pass. Seeking him in his hermitage, he questioned him touching his knowledge- of the land. Upon this the owl put on a mighty self-important look. " Tou must know, O prince," said he, "that we owls are of a very ancient and extensive family, though rather fallen to decay, and possess ruinous castles and palaces in aU parts of Spain. There is scarcely a tower of the mountains, or fortress of the plains, or an old citadel of a city but has some brother, or uncle, or cousin quartered in it; and in going the rounda to visit these my numerous Idndred I have pryed into every nook and comer, and made myself acquainted with every secret of the land." The prince was overjoyed to find the owl so deeply versed in topography, and now informed him, in confidence, of hia tender passion and his intended elopement, urging him to be his companion and counsellor. "Go to!" said the owl, with a look of displeasure. "Am I a bird to engage in a love affair ; I whose whole time is devoted to Mieditation and the moon 1" "Be not offended, most solemn owl!" replied the prince. "Abstract thyself for a time from meditation and the moon, and aid me in my flight, and thou shalt have whatever heart •an wish." , ' ' I have that already, " said the owl. ' ' A few mice are suffi- cient for my frugal table, and this hole in the waU is spacious LEQE2fD OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMBL. 141 Enough for my studies, and what more does a philosopher like myself desire?" "Bethink thee, most wise owl, that while moping in thy cell and gazing at the moon all thy talents are lost to tho world. I shall one day be a sovereign prince, and may advance thee to some post of honour and dignity." The owl, though a philosopher and above the ordinary wants of life, was not above ambition, so he was finally pre- vailed uijon to elope with the prince, and be his guide and Mentor in his pUgrimage. The plans of a lover are promptly executed. The prince col- lected all his jewels, and concealed them about his person as travelling funds. That very night he lowered himself by his scarf from^ a balcony of the tower, clambered over the outer walls of the Generaliffe, and, guided by the owl, nmde good his escape before morning to the mountains. He now held a coimcil with his Mentor as to his future course. "Might I advise," SEiid the owl, "I would recommend you to repair to Seville. You must know that many years since I was on a visit to an uncle, an owl of great dignity and power, who lived in a ruined wing of the Alcazar of that place. In my hoverings at night over the city, I frequently remarked a light burning in a lonely tower. At length I aUghted on the battlements, and found it to proceed from the lamp of an Ara- bian magician. He was surroimded by his magic books, and on his shoulder was perched his familiar, an ancient raven, who had come with him from Egypt. I became acquainted with that raven, and owe to him a great pai-t of the know- ledge I possess. The magician is since dead, but the raven still inhabits the tower, for these birds are of wonderful long life. I would advise you, O prince, to seek that raven, for he is a soothsayer and a conjm-or, and deals in the black art, for which aU ravens, and especially those of Egypt, are re- nowned." The prince was struck with the wisdom of this advice, and accordingly bent his course towards Seville. He travelled only in the night, to accommodate his companion, and lay by during the day in some dark cavern or mouldering watch- tower, fer the owl knew every hiding hole of the kind in the country, and had a most antiquarian taste for ruins. At length, one morning at day-break, they reached tho city of ScviUo, where the owl, who hated the glare and bustle of 142 THE ALUAMBRA. crowded streets, halted without the gate, and took up his quarters in a hollow tree. The prince entered the gate, and readily found the magic tower, which rose above the houses of the city as a palm-tree rises above the shrubs of the desert. It was, iu fact, the same tower known at the present day as the Giralda, the famous Moorish tower of SevlUe. The prince ascended by a great winding staircase to the summit of the tower, where he found the cabalistic raven, an old, mysterious, gray-headed bird, ragged in feather, with a film over one eye that gave him the glare of a spectre. He was perched on one leg, with his head turned on one side, and poring with his remainiag eye on a diagram described on the pavement. The prince approached him with the awe and reverence naturally inspired by his venerable appearance and super- natural wisdom. " Pardon me, most ancient and darkly wise raven," exclaimed he, "if for a moment I intei-rupt those studies which are the wonder of the world. You behold before you a votary of love, who would fain seek counsel how to ob- tain the object of his passion." "In other words," said the raven, with a significant look, "you seek to try my skill in palmistry. Come, show me your hand, and let me decipher the mysterious lines of fortune." "Excuse me," said the prince, " I come not to pry into the decrees of fate, which are hidden by Allah from the eyes of mortals. I am a pilgrim of love, and seek but to find a clue to the object of my pilgrimage. " "And can you be at any loss for an object in amorous Andalusia?" • said the old raven, leering upon him with his single eye. "Above all, can you be at a loss in wanton Seville, where black-eyed damsels dance the zambra under every orange grove?" The prince blushed, and was somewhat shocked at hearing an old bird, with one foot in the grave, talk thus loosely. "Believe me," said he gravely, "I am on none such light and vagrant errand as thou dost insinuate. The black-eyed dam- sels of Andalusia who dance among the orange groves of the Guadalquiver, are as naught to me. I seek one unknown but immaculate beauty, the original of this picture, and I beseech thee, most potent raven, if it be within the scope of thy know- ledge, or the reach of thy art, inform me where she may be foimd." LEGEND OF PRINCIS AUMED AL KAMEL. 143 The gray-headed raven was rebuked by the gravity of the prince. "What know I," repHed he dryly, "of youth and beauty? My visits are to the old and withered, not the young and fair. The harbinger of fate am I, who croak bodings of death from the chimney top, and flap my wings at the sick man's Window. Tou must seek elsewhere for tidings of your unknown beauty." " And where am I to seek, if not among the sons of wisdom, versed in the book of destiny? A royal prince am I, fated by the stars, and sent on a mysterious enterprise, on which may hang the destiny of empires." When the raven heard that it was a matter of vast moment, in which the stars took interest, he changed his tone and manner, and listened with profound attention to the story of the prince. When it was concluded, he replied, "Touching this princess, I can give thee no information of myself, foi- my flight is not among gardens or around ladies' bowers ; but hie thee to Cordova, seek the palm-tree of the great Abderahman, which stands in the court of the principal mosque ; at the foot of it you will find a great traveller, who has visited all coun- tries and courts, and been a favourite with queens and prin- cesses. He wiU give you tidings of the object of yoiu- search." "Many thanks for this precious information," said the prince. "Farewell, most venerable conjuror." "Farewell, pilgrim of love," said the raven dryly, and again fell to pondering on the diagram. The prince sallied forth from Seville, sought his feUow- traveUer the owl, who was still dozing in the hoUow tree, and set ofE for Cordova. He approached it along hanging gardens, and orange and citron groves overlooking the fair valley of the Guadalquiver. When arrived at its gates, the owl flew up to a dark hole in the wall, and the prince proceeded in quest of the palm-trco planted in days of yore by the great Abderahman. It stood in thfe midst of the great court of the Mosque, towering from amidst orange and cypress trees. Dervises and Faquirs were seated in groups under the cloisters of the court, and many of the faithful were performing their ablutions at the f oimtains, before entering the Mosque. At the foot of the palm-tree was a crowd listening to the words of one who appeared to be talking with great volubility. This, said the prince to himself, must be the great traveller 144 THE ALBAMBRA. \ who is to give me tidings of the vtnkaown 'princess. Ho mingled in the crowd, but was astonished to perceive that they were all listening to a parrot, who, with his bright green coat, pragmatical eye, and consequential topknot, had the air of a bird on excellent terms with himself. "How is this," said the prince to one of the bystanders, "that so many grave persons can be delighted with the garrul- ity of a chattering bird?" " You know not of whom you sp&ak," said the other; " this parrot is a descendant of the famous parrot of Persia, renowned for his story-teUing talent. He has ali the learmng of the East at the tip of his tongue, and can quote poetry as fast as he can talk. He has visited various foreign courts, where h« has been considered an oracle of erudition. He has been a universal favourite also with the fair sex, who have a vast admiration for erudite parrots that can quote poetry." "Enough," said the prince, " I wQl have some private talk with this distinguished traveller." He sought a private interview, and expounded the nature of his errand. He had scarcely mentioned it when the parrot burst into a fit of dry rickety laughter, that absolutely brought tears in his eyes. " Excuse my mirth," said he, " but the m^re mention of love always sets me laughing." The prince was shocked at this ill-timed merriment. " Is not love," said he, "the great mystery of nature, — the secret principle of Ufe, — ^the universal bond of sympathy?" " A fig's end !" cried the parrot, interrupting him. " Pry'thee where hast thou learnt this sentimental jargon? Trust me, love is quite out of vogue ; one never hears of it in the company of wits and people of refinement." The prince sighed as he recalled the different language of his friend the dove. But this parrot, thought he, has lived about court ; he afEects the wit and the fine gentleman ; he knows nothing of the thing called love. Unwilling to provoke any more ridicule of the sentiment which filled his heart, he now directed his inquiries to the immediate purport of his visit. "TeU me," said' he, "most accomplished parrot, thoU who hast every where been admitted to the most secret bowers of beauty, hast thou in the course of thy travels met with the original of this portrait?" The parrot took the pictm-e in his claw, turned his head from side to side, and examined it curiously with either eye. " Upon LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 145 my honour," said he, "a very pretty face; very pretty. But then one sees so many pretty women in one's travels that one can hardly— but hold — bless me ! now I look at it again— sure enough, this is the princess Aldegonda: bow could I forget one that is so prodigious a favourite with me?" " The princess Aldegonda!" echoed the prince, " and where is she to be found?" "Softly — softly," said the parrot, "easier to be found than gained. She is the only daughter of the Christian king who reigns at Toledo, and is shut up from the world until her seventeenth birth-day, on account of some prediction of those meddlesome fellows, the astrologers. You'll not get a sight of her, no mgrtal man can see her. I was admitted to her pres- ence to entertain her, and I assure you, on the word of a parrot who has seen the world, I have conversed with much siUier princesses in my time." "A word in confidence, my dear parrot," said the prince. "I am heir to a kingdom, and shall one day sit upon a throne. I see that you are a bird of parts and understood the word. Help me to gain possession of this princess and I wQl advance you to some distinguished post about court." " With all my heart," said the parrot ; " but let it be a sine- cure if possible, for we wits have a great dislike to labour." Arrangements were promptly made ; the prince saUied forth from Cordova through the same gate by which he had entered ; called the owl down from the hole in the wall, introduced him to his new traveUing companion as a brother sQavant, and away they set off on their joiimey. They travelled much more slowly than accorded with the impatience of the prince, but the parrot was accustomed to high life, and did not hke to be disturbed early in the morning. The owl, on the other hand, was for sleeping at mid-day, and lost a great deal of time by his long siestas. His antiquarian taste also was in the way ; for he insisted on pausiug and in- specting every ruin, and had long legendary tales to tell about every old tower and castle in the country. The prince had supposed that he and the parrot, being both bhds of learning, could deMght in each other's society, but never had he been more mistaken. They were eternally bickering. The one was a wit, the other a philosopher. The parrot quoted poetry, was critical on new readings, and eloquent on small points of eru- dition; the owl treated all such knowledge as trifling, and relished nothing but metaphysics. Then the parrot would sing 146 TEE ALHAMBRA. Bongs and repeat bon mots, and crack jokes upon his solemn neighbour, and laugh outrageously at his own "wit; aU which the owl considered a grievous invasion of his dignity, and would scowl, and sulk, and swell, and sit silent for a whole day together. The prince heeded not the wrangUngs of his companions, being wrapped up in the dreams of his own fancy, and the contemplation of the portrait of the beautiful princess. In this way they journeyed through the stem passes of the Sierra Mo- rena, across the sunburnt plains of La Mancha and Castile, and along the banks of the " Golden Tagus," which winds its wizard mazes over one-half of Spain and Portugal. At length, they came in sight of a strong city with walls and towers, built on a rocky promontory, roimd the foot of which the Tagus circled with brawhng violence. "Behold," exclaimed the owl, "the ancient and renowned city of Toledo ; a city famous for its antiquities. Behold those venerable domes and towers, hoary with time, and clothfed with legendary grandeur ; in which so many of my ancestors have meditated — " " Pish," cried the parrot, interrupting his solemn antiquarian rapture, "what have we to do with antiquities, and legends, and your ancestors? Behold, what is more to the purpose, be- hold the abode of youth and beauty, — ^behold, at length, oh prince, the abode of your long sought princess." The prince looked in the direction indicated by the parrot, and beheld, in a delightful green meadow on the banks of the Tagus, a stately palace rising from amidst the bowers of a delicious garden. It was just such a place as had been de- scribed by the dove as the residence of the original of the pic- ture. He gazed at it with a throbbing heart: " Perhaps at this moment," thought he, "the beautiful princess is sporting beneath those shady bowers, or pacing with delicate step those stately terraces, or reposing beneath those lofty roofs !" As he looked more narrowly, he perceived that the walls of the gar- den were of great height, so as to defy access, while numbers of armed guards patrolled around them. The prince turned to the parrot. " Oh most accomplished of Dirds," said he, "thou hast the gift of human speech. Hie thee to yon garden ; seek the idol of my soul, and tell her that prince Ahmed, a pilgrim of love, and guided by the stars, has arrived in quest of her on the flowery banks of the Tagus." The parrot, proud of his embassy, flew away to the garden LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. I47 mounted above its lofty walls, and, after soaring for a time over the lawns and groves, alighted on the balcony of a pavilion that overhung the river. Here, looking in at the casement, he beheld the princess reclining on a couch, with her eyes fixed on a paper, while tears gently stole after each other down her pallid cheek. Pluming his wings for a moment, adjusting his bright green coat, and elevating his topknot, the parrot perched himself beside her with a gallant air ; then assuming a tenderness of tone, — •'Dry thy tears, most beautiful of princesses," said he, "I come to bring solace to thy heart." The princess was startled on hearing a voice, but turning and sesing nothing but a httle green-coated bird bobbing and bowing before her: — "Alas! what solace canst thou yield," said she, " seeing thou art but a parrot?" The parrot was nettled at the question. "I have consoled many beautiful ladies in my time," said he; "but let that pass. At present, I come ambassador from a royal prince. Know- that Ahmed, the prince of Granada, has arrived in quest of thee, and is encamped even now on the flowery banks of the Tagus." The eyes of the beautiful princess sparkled at these words, even brighter than the diamonds in her coronet. " O sweetest of parrots," cried she, "joyfiil indeed are thy tidings; for I was faint, and weary, and sick almost unto death, with doubt of the constancy of Ahmed. Hie thee back, and teU hiTn that the words of his letter are engraven in my heart, and his poetry has been the food of my soul. TeU him, however, that ho must prepare to prove his love by force of arms ; to-morrow is my seventeenth birth-day, when the king, my father, holds a great tournament ; several princes are to enter the hsts, and my hand is to be the prize of the victor." The parrot again took wing, and,, rusthng through the groves, flew back to where the prince awaited his return. The rapture of Ahmed on finding the original of his adored portrait, and finding her kind and time, can only be conceived by those favoured mortals, who have had the good fortune to realize day dreams, and turn shadows into substance. Stiil there was one thing that alloyed his transport, — this impending tournament. In fact, the banks of the Tagus were already glittering with arms, and resounding with trumpets of the various knights, who with proud retinues were prancing on towards Toledo to 148 THE ALHAMBRA. attend tlie ceremonial. The same star that had. controlled the destiny of the prince, had governed that of the princess, and until her seventeenth birth-day, she had been shut up from the world, to guard her from the tender passion. The fame of her charms, however, had been enhanced, rather than obscured by this seclusion. Several powerf-ul princes had contended for her aUiance, and her father, who was a king of wondrous shrewdness, to avoid making enemies by showing partiality, had referred them to the arbitrament of arms. Among the rival candidates, were several renowned for strength and prowess. What a predicament for the unfortunate Ahmed, unprovided as he was with weapons, and unskilled in the exer- cises of chivalry. "Luckless prince that I ami" said he, "to have been brought up in seclusion, under the eye of a philoso- pher! of what avail are algebra and philosophy in affairs of love ! alas. Ebon Bonabbon, why hast thou neglected to instruct me in the management of arms?" Upon this the owl broke silence prefacing his harangue with a pio\xs ejaddation, for he was a devout Mussulman : "Allah Achbar! 'God is great,'" exclaimed he, "in his hands are all secret things, he alone governs the destiny of princes ! Enow, O prince, that this land is full of mysteries, hidden from all but those who, like myself, can grope after knowledge in the dark. Know that in the neighbouring moun- tains there is a cave, and in that cave there, is an iron table, and on that table Ues a suit of magic armour, and beside that table stands a spell-bound steed, which have been shut up there for many generations." The prince stared with wonder, while the owl blinking his huge round eyes and erecting his horns proceeded : "Many years since, I accompanied my father to these parts on a tour of his estates, and we sojourned in that cave, and thus became I acquainted with the mystery. It is a tradition in our family, which I have heard from my grandfather when I was yet but a very little owlet, that this armour belonged to a Moorish magician, who took refuge in this cavern when Toledo was captured by the Christians, and died here, leaving his steed and weapons under a mystic spell, never to be used but by a Moslem, and by him only from sunrise to mid-day. In that interval, whoever uses them, wiU overthrow every opponent." "Enough, let us seek this cave," exclaimed Ahmed. Guided by his legendary Mentor, the prince found the LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL EAMEL. I49 cavern, which was in one of the wildest recesses of those rocky chfEs which rose around Toledo ; none but the mousing eye of an owl or an antiquary could have discovered the entrance to it. A sepulchral lamp of everlastiag oil shed a solemn Ught through the place. On an iron table in the centre of the cavern lay the magic armour, against it leaned the lance, and beside it stood an Arabian steed, caparisoned for the field, but motionless as a statue. The armour was bright and unsullied, as it had gleamed in days of old ; the steed in as good con- dition as if just from the pasture, and when Ahmed laid his hand upon his neck, he pawed the ground and gave a loud neigh of joy that shook the walls of the cavern. Thvis pro- vided with horse to ride and weapon to wear, the prince de- termined to defy the field at the impending tourney. The eventftH morning arrived. The lists for the combat were prepared in the Vega or plain just below the cliff-built walls of Toledo. Here were erected stages and galleries for the spectators, covered with rich tapestry and sheltered from the sun by silken awnings. AH the beauties of the land were assembled in those galleries, while below pranced plumed knights with their pages and esquires, among whom figured conspicuoTisly the princes who were to contend in the tourney. AH the beauties of the land, however, were echpsed, when the princess Aldogonda appeared in the royal pavUion, and for the first time broke forth upon the gaze of an admiring world. A murmur of wonder ran through the crowd at her transcend- ant loveliness ; and the princes who were candidates for her hand merely on the faith of her reported charms, now felt ten- fold ardour for the conflict. The princess, however, had a troubled look. The colour came and went from her cheek, and her eye wandered with a restless and unsatisfied expression over the plumed throng of knights. The trumpets were about sounding for the encounter when a herald announced the arrival of a stranger knight, and Ahmed rode into the field. A steeled helmet studded with gems rose above his turban; his cuirass was embossed with gold; his scimitar and dagger were of the workmanship of Fay, and flamed with precious stones. A round shield was at his shoulder, and in his hand he bore the lance of charmed virtue. The caparison of his Arabian was richly embroidered, and swept the groimd; and the proud animal pranced and snuffed the air, and neighed with joy at once more beholding the array of arms. The lofty and graceful demeanour of the 150 THE ALHAMBBA. prince struck every eye, and when his appellation was an- nounced, " The pilgrim of love," a universal flutter and agita- tion prevailed among the fair dames in the galleries. When Ahm^ed presented himself at the lists, however, they were closed against him ; none hut princes, he was told, were admitted to the contest. He declared his name and rank. Still worse, he was a Moslem, and cotdd not engage in a toiumey where the hand of a Christian princess was the prize. The rival princes surrounded him with haughty and men- acing aspects, and one of insolent demeanour and Herculean frame sneered at his hght and youthful form, and scoffed at his amorous appellation. The ire of the prince was roused ; he defied his rival to the encounter. They took distance, wheeled, and charged ; at the first touch of the magic lance the hrawny scoffer was tilted from his saddle. Here th j prince would have paused, but alas ! he had to deal with a demoniac horse and armour: once in action, nothing could control them. The Arabian steed charged ihto the thickest of the throng: the lance overturned every thing that presented ; the gentle prince was carried peU-meU about the field, strewing it with high and low, gentle and simple, and grieving at his own involuntary exploits. The king stormed and raged at this outrage on his subjects and his guests. He ordered out all his guards — ^they were unhorsed as fast as they came up. The king thi'ew off his robes, grasped buckler and lance, and rode forth to awe the stranger with the presence of majesty itself. Alas, majesty fared no better than the vulgar ; the steed and lance were no respecters of persons ; to the dismay of Ahmed, he was borne f uU tut against the king, and in a moment the royal heels were in the air, and the crown was roUing in the dust. At this moment the sun reached the meridian ; the magic spell resumed its power. The Arabian steed scoured across the plain, leaped the barrier, plunged into the Tagus, swani its raging current, bore the priuce, breathless and amazed, to the cavern, and resmned his station Uke a statue beside the u-on table. The prince dismounted right gladly, and replaced the armour, to abide the further decrees of fate. Then seating him- self in the cavern, he ruminated on the desperate state to which this bedeviled steed and armour had reduced him. Never shotdd he dare to show his face at Toledo, after inflict- ing such disgrace upon its chivalry, and such an outrage on its king. What, too, would the princess think of so rude and riotous an achievement? Full of anxiety, he sent forth his LEGEND OF I'lUNCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 151 winged messengers to gather tidings. The parrot resorted to all the public places and crowded resorts of the city, and soon returned with a world of gossip. All Toledo was in con- sternation. The princess had been borne off senseless to the palace; the tournament had ended in confiision ; every one was talking of the sudden apparition, prodigious exploits, and sti-ange disappeaxance of the Moslem knight. Some pro- nounced bim a Moorish m.agician ; others thought bim a demon who had assxuncd a human shape ; while others related tradi- tions of enchanted warriors hidden in the caves of the moun- tains, and thought it might be one of these, who had made a sudden irruption from his den. All agreed that no mere ordi- nary mortal could have wrought such wonders, or unhorsed such accomplished and stalwart Christian warriors. The owl flew forth at night, and hovered about the dusky city, perching on the roofs and chimneys. He then wheeled his flight up to the royal palace, which stood on the rocky summit of Toledo, and went prowling about its terraces and battlements, eaves-dropping at every cranny, and glaring in with his big goggling eyes at every window where there was a light, so as to throw two or three maids of honour into fits. It was not until the gray dawn began to peer above the moun- tains that he returned from his mousing expedition, and re- lated to the prince what he had seen. " As I was prying about one of the loftiest towers of the pal- ace," said he, "I beheld through a casement a beautiful prin- cess. She was reclining on a couch, with attendants and phy- sicians around her, but she would none of their ministry and relief. When they retired, I beheld her draw forth a letter from her bosom, and read, and kiss it, and give way to loud lamentations ; at which, philosopher as I am, I could not but be greatly moved." The tender heart of Ahmed was distressed at these tidings. " Too true were thy words, oh sage Ebon Bonabbon!" cried he. "Care and sorrow, and sleepless nights are the lot of lovers. Allah preserve the princess from the blighting influence of this thing called love." Further intelligence from Toledo corroborated the report of the owl. The city was a prey to uneasiness and alarm. The princess was conveyed to the highest tower of the palace, every avenue to which was strongly guarded. In the mean time, a devouring melancholy had seized upon her, of which no one could divine the cause. She refused food, and turned a deaf 152 2'i/&' ALUAMBllA. ear to every consolation. The most skilful physicians had es- sayed their art in vain ; it was thought some magic spell had been practised upon her, and the king made proclamation, de- claring that whoever should effect her cure, should receive the richest jewel in the royal treasury. When the owl, who was dozing in a comer, heard of this proclamation, he rolled his large eyes and looked more mys- terious than ever. "Allah Achbar!" exclaimed he. "Happy the man that shall effect that cure, should he but know what to choose from the royal treasury." "What mean you, most reverend owl?" said Ahmed. "Hearken, O prince, to what I shall relate. We owls, you must know, are a learned body, and much given to dark and dusty research. During my late prowhng at night about the domes and turrets of Toledo, I discovered a college of antiqua- rian owls, who hold their meetings in a great vaulted tower where the royal treasure is deposited. Here they were discuss- ing the forms and inscriptions, and designs of ancient gems and jewels, and of golden and silver vessels, heaped up in the trea- sury, the fashion of every country and age : but mostly they were interested about certain reUques and talismans, that have remained in the treasury since the time of Roderick the Goth. Among these, was a box of shittim wood, secured by bands of steel of oriental workmanship, and inscribed with mystic characters known only to the learned few. This box and its inscription had occupied the college for several sessions, and had caused much long and grave dispute. At the time of my visit, a very ancient owl, who had recently arrived from Egypt, was seated on the Ud of the box lecturing upon the inscription, and proved from it, that the coffer contained the silken carpet of the throne of Solomon the wise : which doubtless had been brought to Toledo by the Jews, who took refuge there after the downfall of Jerusalem." When the owl had concluded his antiquarian harangue, the prince remained for a time absorbed in thought. "I have heard," said he, "from the sage Ebon Bonabbon, of the won- derful properties of that talisman, which disappeared at the fall of Jerusalem, and was supposed to be lost to mankind. Doubtless it remains a sealed mystery to the Christians of Toledo. If I can get possession of that carpet, my fortune is secure. " The next day the prince laid aside his rich attire, and ar- LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. 153 rayed himself in the simple garb of an Arab of the desert. He dyed his complexion to a tawny hue, and no one could have recognized in. him the splendid warrior who had caused such admiration and dismay at the tournament. With staff in hand and scrip by his side, and a small pastoral reed, he re- paired to Toledo, and presenting himself at the gate of the royal palace, announced himself as a candidate for the reward offered for the cure of the princess, The guards would have driven him away with blows : ' ' What can a vagrant Arab like thyself pretend to do," said they, "in a case where the most learned of the land have failed?" The king, however, over- heard the tumult, and ordered the Arab to be brought iato his presence. •'Most potent Idng," said Ahmed, "you behold before you a Bedouin Arab, the greater part of whose life has been passed in the solitudes of the desert. Those solitudes, it is well known, are the haunts of demons and evil spirits, who beset us poor shepherds in our lonely watchings, enter into and pos- sess our flocks and herds, and sorjetimes render even the patient camel furious. Against these, our countercharm is music ; and we have legendary airs handed down from genera- tion to generation, that we chant and pipe to cast forth these evil spirits. I am of a gifted line, and possess this power in its fullest force. If it be any evU influence of the kind that holds a spell over thy daughter, I pledge my head to free her from its sway." The king, who was a man of understandiag, and knew the wonderful secrets possessed by the Arabs, was inspired with hope by the confident language of the prince. He conducted him immediately to the lofty tower seciu'ed by several doors, in the summit of which was the chamber of the princess. The windows opened upon a terrace with balustrades, commanding a view over Toledo and all the surrounding country. The win- dows were darkened, for the princess lay within, a prey to a devouring grief that refused aU alleviation. The prince seated himself on the terrace, and performed sev- eral wild Arabian airs on his pastoral pipe, which he had learnt from his attendants in the Generaliffe at Granada. The prin- cess continued insensible, and the doctors, who were present, shook their heads, and smiled with incredibUity and contempt. At length the prince laid aside the reed, and to a simple melody chanted the amatory verses of the letter which had declared his passion. 154 THE ALUAMBRA. The princess recognized the strain. A fluttering joy stole to her heart; she raised her head and listened; tears rushed to her eyes and streamed down her cheeks ; her bosom rose and fell with a tumialt of emotions. She would have asked for the minstrel to be brought into her presence, but maiden coyness held her sUent. The king read her wishes, and at his com- mand Ahmed was conducted into the chamber. The lovers were discreet : they but exchanged glances, yet those glances spoke volumes. Never was triumph of music more complete. The rose had returned to the soft cheek of the princess, the freshness to her hp, and the dewy light to her languishing eye. AU the physicians present stared at each other with aston- ishment. The king regarded the Arab, minstrel with admira- tion, mixt with awe. "Wonderful youth," exclaimed he, "thou shalt henceforth be the first physician of my court, and no other prescription will I take but thy melody. For the present, receive thy reward, the most precious jewel in my treasury." " O king," repUed Ahrqed, " I care not for silver, or gold, or precious stones. One reUque hast thou in thy treasury, handed down from tlie Moslems who once owned Toledo. A box of sandal wood containing a sUken carpet. Give me that box, and I am content. " All present were surprised at the moderation of the Arab ; and still more, when the box of sandal wood was brought and the carpet drawn forth. It was of fine green sUk, covered with Hebrew and COialdaie characters. The cowct physicians looked at each other, shrugged their shoulders, and smiled at the simplicity of this new practitioner, who could be content with so paltry a fee. "This carpet," said the prince, " once covered the throne of Solomon the wise ; it is worthy of being placed beneath the feet of beauty." So saying, he spread it on the terrace beneath an ottoman that had been brought forth for the princess; then seating himself at her feet, — "Who," said he, "shall counteract what is written in the book of fate? Behold the prediction of the astrologers verified. Enow, oh king, that your daughter and I have long loved each other in secret. Behold in me the pilgrim of love." These words were scarcely from his lips, when the carpet rose in the air, hearing off the prince and princess. The king and the physicians gazed after it with open mouths and strain- LEGEND OF PRINCE AHMED AL KAMEL. ]5y ing eyes, until it became a Mttle speck on the white bosom of a cloud, and then disappeared in the blue vault of heaven. The king in a rage summoned his treasurer. " How is this," said he, "that thou hast suffered an infidel to get possession of such a tahsman?" "Alas! sire, we knew not its nature, nor coxild we decipher the inscription of the box. If it be indeed the carpet of the throne of the wise Solomon, it is possessed of magic power, and can transport its owner from place to place through the air.'' The king assembled a mighty army, and set off for Granada in pursuit of the fugitives. His march was long and toUsome. Encamping in the Vega, he sent a herald to demand restitu- tion of his daughter. The king himself came forth with aU his court to meet him. In the king, he beheld the Arab min strel, for Ahmed had succeeded to the throne on the death of his father, and the beautiful Aldegonda was his Sultana. The Christian king was easily pacified, when he found that his daughter was suffered to continue in her faith : not that he was particiilarly pious ; but religion is always a point of pride and etiquette with princes. Instead of bloody battles, there was a succession of feasts and rejoicings ; after which, the king returned well pleased to Toledo, and the youthful couple con- tinued to reign as happily as wisely, in the Alhambra. It is proper to add, that the owl and the parrot had severally followed the prince by easy stages to Granada: the former travelling by night, and stopping at the various hereditary possessions of his family; the latter figuring in the gay circles of every town and city on his route. Ahmed gratefully requited the services which they had ren- dered him on his pilgrimage. He appointed the owl his prime minister; the parrot his master of ceremonies. It is needless to say that never was a realm more sagely a dminis tered, or a court conducted with more exact punctUio. 156 THE ALHAMBRA. THE LEG-END OF THE ROSE OE THE ALHAMBRA; OR, THE PAGE AND THE GBR-FALCON. EOE some time after the surrender of Granada by the Moors, that dehghtful city was a trequent and favourite residence of the Spanish sovereigns, until they were frightened away by successive shocks of earthquakes, which toppled down various houses and made the old Moslem towers rock to their founda- tion. Many, many years then roUed away, during which Granada was rarely honoured by a royal guest. The palaces of the nobility remained silent and shut up ; and the Alhambra, like a shghted beauty, sat in mournful desolation among her neglected gardens. The tower of the Infantas, once the resi- dence of the three beautiful Moorish princesses, partook of tho general desolation ; and the spider spun her web athwart the gilded vault, and bats and owls nestled in those chambers that had been graced by the presence of Zayda, Zorayda, and Zora- hayda. The neglect of the tower may partly have been owing to some superstitious notions of the neighbours. It was rumoured that the spirit of the youthful Zorahayda, who had perished iu that tower, was often seen by moonlight, seated beside the fountain in the hall, or moaning about the battle- ments, and that the notes of her silver lute would be heard at midnight by wayfarers passing along the glen. At length the city of Granada was once more enlivened by the royal presence. All the world knows that Philip V. was the first Bourbon that swayed the Spanish sceptre. All the world knows that he married, in second nuptials, Elizabetta or Isabella, (for they are the same,) the beautiful princess of Par- ma ; and aU the world knows, that by this chain of contingeu' cies, a French prince and an Italian priucess were seated to- gether on the Spanish throne. For the reception of this illustri- ous pair, the Alhambra was repaired and fitted up with all pos- sible expedition. The arrival of the court changed the whole aspect of the lately deserted place. The clangour of drum and trumpet, the tramp of steed about the avenues and outer TEE LEGEND OF THE HOSE OP THE ALHAMBRA. 157 court, the glitter of arms and display of banners about barbi- can and battlement, recalled the ancient and warlike glories of the fortress. A softer spirit, however, reigned within the royal palace. There was the rustling of robes, and the cautious tread and murmuring voice of reverential courtiers about the antechambers ; a loitering of pages and maids of honour about the gardens, and the sound of music stealing from open case- ments. Among those who attended in the train of the monarchs, was a favourite page of the queen, named Euyz de Alarcon. To say that he was a favourite page of the queen, was at once to speak his eulogium, for every one in the suite of the stately Elizabetta was chosen for grace, and beauty, and accompHsh- ments. He was just turned of eighteen, hght and little ot form, and graceful as a young Antinous. To the queen he was all deference and respect, yet he was at heart a roguish strip- ling, petted and spoUcd by the ladies about the court, £md experienced in the ways of women lar beyond his years. This loitering page was one morning rambling about the groves of the GteneraUSe, which overlook the groimds of the Alhambra. He had taken with him for his amusement, a favourite ger-falcon of the queen. In the cou4-se of his rambles, seeing a bird rising from a thicket, he unhooded the hawk and let bim fly. The falcon towered high in the air, made a swoop at his quarry, but missing it, soared away regardless of the calls of the page. The latter followed the truant bird with his eye in its capricious flight, until he saw it ahght upon the battle- ments of a remote and lonely tower, in the outer wall of the Alhambra, built on the edge of a ravine that separated the royal fortress from the grounds of the Gcneraliffe. It was, in fact, the "tower of the Princesses." The page descended into the ravine, and approached the tower, but it had no entrance from the glen, and its lofty height rendered any attempt to scale it fruitless. Seeking one of the gates of the fortress, therefore, he made a wide circuit to that side of the tower facing within the walls. A small garden en- closed by a treUis-work of reeds overhung with myrtle lay before the tower. Opening a wicket, the page passed between beds of flowers and thickets of roses to the door. It was closed and bolted. A crevice in the door gave him a peep into the interior. There was a small Moorish hall with fretted waUs, hght mar- ble columns, and an alabaster fountain surrounded with flow- ers. In the Centre hung a gilt cage containing a singing bird- -J 58 THE ALHAMBUA. beneath it, on a chair, lay a tortoise-shell cat among reels of silk and other articles of female labour, and a guitar, decorated with ribands, leaned against the fountain. Euyz de Alarcon was struck with these traces of female taste and elegance in a lonely, and, as he had supposed, deserted tower. They reminded him of the tales of enchanted halls, current in the Alhambra; and the tortoise-shell cat might be some spell-bound princess. He knocked gently at the door, — a beautiful face peeped out from a Uttle window above, but was iustantly withdrawn. He waited, expecting that the door wovild be opened; but he waited in vain : no footstep was to be hoard within, aU was silent. Had his senses deceived him, or was this beautiful ap- parition the fairy of the tower? He knocked again, and more loudly. After a Mttle while, the beaming face once more peeped forth : it was that of a blooming damsel of fifteen. The page immediately dofiEed his plumed bonnet, and entreated in the most courteous accents to be permitted to ascend the tower in pursmt of his falcon. " I dare not open the door, Senor," rephed the little daroseJ, blushing; "my aunt has forbidden it." "I do beseech you, fair maid; it is the favourite falcon of the queen; I dare not retam to the palace without it." "Are you, then, one of the cavaliers of the court?" " I am, fair maid; but I shall lose the queen's favour and my place if I lose this hawk." "Santa Maria 1 It is against you cavaliers of the court that my aunt has charged me especially to bar the door." " Against wicked cavaUers, doubtless; but I am none of those, but a simple, harmless page, who will be ruined and undone if you deny me this small request." The heart of the little damsel was touched by the distress of tho page. It was a thousand pities he should be ruined for the want of so trifling a boon. Surely, too, he could not be one of those dangerous beings whom her aunt had described as a spe- cies of cannibal, ever on the prowl to make prey of thought- less damsels ; he was gentle and modest, and stood so entrcat- ingly with cap in hand, and looked so charming. The slj' page saw that the garrison began to waver, and redoubled his entreaties in such moving terms, that it was not in the nature of mortal maiden to deny him ; so, the blushing httle warder of the tower descended and opened the door with a trembling hand ; and if the page had been charmed by a mere glimpse of THE zkoEND OF TEE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBRA. 159 her countenance from the window, he was ravished by the full-length portrait now revealed to him. Her Andalusian bodice and trim basquina set off the roimd but dehcate symmetry of her form, which was as yet scarce verging into womanhood. Her glossy hair was parted on her forehead with scrupulous exactness, and decorated with a fresh plucked rose, according to the universal custom al the country. It is true, her complexion was tinged by the ardour of a southern sun, but it served to give richness to the mantling bloom of her cheek, and to heighten the lustre of her melting eyes. Euyz de Alarcon beheld all this with a single glance, for it became bim not to tarry ; he merely murmured his acknow- ledgments, and then bounded lightly up the spiral staircase in quest of his falcon. He soon returned with the truant bird upon his fist. The damsel, in the mean time, had seated her- seK by the fountain in the hall, and was winding silk ; but in her agitation she let fall the reel upon the pavement. The page sprang, picked it up, then dropping gracefully on one knee, presented it to her, but, seizing the hand extended to receive it, imprinted on it a kiss more fervent and devout than he had ever imprinted on the fair hand of his sovereign. "Ave Maria! Senorl" exclaimed the damsel, blushing still deeper with confusion and surprise, for never before had she receive such a salutation. The modest page made a thousand apologies, assuring her it was the way, at com-t, of expressing the most profound hom- age and respect. Her anger, if anger she felt, was easily pacified; but her agitation and embarrassment continued, and she sat blushing deeper and deeper, with her eyes cast down upon her work, entangling the silk which she attempted to wind. The cunning page saw the confusion in the opposite camp, and would fain have profited by it, but the fine speeches he woiild have uttered died upon his hps; his attempts at gal- lantry were awkward and ineffectual : and, to his surprise, the adroit page who had figured with such gi-ace and effrontery among the most knowing and experienced ladies of the court, found himself awed and abashed in the presence of a simple damsel of fifteen. In fact, the artless maiden, in her own modesty and inno- cence, had guardians more effectual than the bolts and bars 160 TEE ALUAMBRA. ' prescribed by ber vigilant aunt. Still, wbere is tbe female bosom proof againyt the first whisperings of love? The httle damsel, with all her artlessness, instinctively comprehended aU that the faltering tongue of tbe page failed to express, and her heart was fluttered at beholding, for the first time, a lover at her feet— and such a lover ! The diffidence of the page, though genuine, was short-lived, and he was recovering bis usual ease and confidence, when a shrill voice was heard at a distance. "My aunt is returning from mass!" cried the damsel in affright. "I pray you, Senor, depart." " Not until you grant me that rose from your hair as a re- membrance." She hastily untwisted the rose from her raven locks. "Take it," cried she, agitated and blushing, "but pray begone." The page took the rose, and at the same time covered with kisses the fair hand that gave it. Then placing the fiower in his bonnet, and taking the falcon upon his fist, he bounded off through the garden, bearing away with him the heart of the gentle Jacinta. When the vigilant aunt arrived at the tower, she remarked the agitation of her niece, and an air of confusion in the haH; but a word of explanation sufficed. ' ' A ger-falcon had pur- sued his prey into the hall." " Mercy on us ! To think of a falcon flying into the tower. Did ever one hear of so saucy a hawk? Why, the very bird in the cage is not safe." The vigilant Fredegonda was one of the most wary of ancient spinsters. She had a becoming terror and distrust of what she denominated " the opposite sex," which had gradu- ally increased through a long fife of celibacy. Not that the good lady had ever suffered from their wiles ; nature having set up a safeguard in her face, that forbade all trespass upon her premises ; but ladies who have least cause to fear for them- selves, are most ready to keep a watch over their more tempt- ing neighbours. The niece was the orphan of an officer who had fallen in the wars. She had been educated in a convent, and had recently been transferred from her sacred asylum to the immediate guardianship of her aunt; under whose over- shadowing care she vegetated in obscurity, hke an opening rose blooming beneath a briar. Nor, indeed, is this comparison entirely accidental, for to teU the truth her fresh and dawning beauty had caught the public eye, even in her seclusion, and, TEE LEGEND OF THE ROSE OF THE ALEAMBBA. Igl with that poetical turn common to the people of Andalusia, the peasantry of the neighbourhood had given her the appella- tion of " The Eose of the Alhambra." The wary aunt continued to keep a faithful watch over her tempting little niece as long as the court continued at Granada, and flattered herself that her vigilance had been successful. It is true, the good lady was now and then discomposed by the tinkling of guitars, and chanting of love ditties from the moon- Ht groves beneath the tower, but she would exhort her niece to shut her ears against such idle minstrelsy, assuring her that it was one of the arts of the opposite sex, by which simple m.aids were often lured to their undoing ; — alas, what chance with a simple maid has a dry lecture against a moonlight serenade ! At length king Philip cut short Bis sojourn at Granada, and suddenly departed with all his train. The vigQant Fredegonda watched the royal pageant as it issued forth from the gate of Justice, and descended the great avenue leading to the city. When the last banner disappeared from her sight, she re- turned exulting to her tower, for all her cares were over. To her surprise, a light Arabian steed pawed the ground at tho wicket gate of the garden— to her horror she saw through tho thickets of roses, a youth, in gaily embroidered dress, at the feet of her niece. At the soimd of her footsteps he gave a tender adieu, bounded lightly over the barrier of reeds and myrtles, sprang upon his horse, and was out of sight in an in- stant. The tender Jacinta in the agony of her grief lost aU thought of her aimt's displeasmre. Throwing herself into her arms, she broke forth into sobs and tears. " Ay di mi!" cried she, "he is gone! he is gone! and I shall never see him more." "Gone! who is gone? what youth is this I saw at your feet?" ''A queen's page, aunt, who came to bid me fareweU." "A queen's page, child," echoed the vigUant Fredegonda faintly, " and when did you become acquainted with a queen's page?" "The morning that the ger-falcon flew into the tower. It was the queen's ger-falcon, and he came in pursuit of it." "Ah, sflly, silly girl! know that there are no ger-falcons half so dangerous as these pranMing pages, and it is precisely Buch simple birds as thee that they pounce upon. " The aunt- was at first indignant at learning that, in despite 162 THE ALHAMBRA. of her boasted vigilance, a tender intercourse had been carried on by the youthful lovers, almost beneath her eye; but when she found that her simple-hearted niece, though thus exposed, without the protection of bolt or bar, to aU the machinations of the opposite sex, had come forth unsinged from the fiery ordeal, she consoled herself with the persuasion that it was owing to the chaste and cautious maxims in which she had, as it were, steeped her to the very Ups. While the aunt laid this soothing unction to her pride, the niece treasured up the oft-repeated vows of fidelity of the page. But what is the love of restless, roving man? a vagrant stream that daUies for a time with each flower upon its banks, then passes on and leaves them all in tears. Days, weeks, months elapsed, and nothing more was heard of the page. The pomegrarilate ripened, the vine yielded up its fruit, the autumnal rains descended in torrents from the mountains ; the Sierra Nevada became covered with a snowy mantle, and wintry blasts howled through the halls of the Al- hambra : stiU he came not. The winter passed away. Again the genial spring burst forth with song, and blossoms, and balmy zephyr; the snows melted from the moimtains, until none remaiaed, but on the lofty summit of the Nevada, glisten- ing through the sultry siunmer air: stQl nothing was heard of the forgetful page. In the mean time, the poor little Jacinta grew pale and thoughtful. Her former occupations and amusements were abandoned; her silk lay entangled, her guitar unstrung, her flowers were neglected, the notes of her bird unheeded, and her eyes, once so bright, were dimmed with secret weeping. If any sohtude could be devised to foster the passion of a love- lorn damsel, it would be such a place as the Alhambra, where every thing seems disposed to produce tender and romantic reveries. It is a very Paradise for lovers ; how hard then to bo alone in such a Paiadise; and not merely alone, but for- saken. " Alas. siQy child !" would the staid and immaculate Fredc- gonda say, when she found her niece in one of her desponding moods, "did I not warn thee against the wiles and deceptions of these men? What couldst thou expect, too, from one of a haughty and aspiring family, thou, an orphan, the descendant of a fallen and impoverished hne; be assm-ed, if the youth were true, his father, who is one of the proudest nobles about the coiirt, would prohibit his union with one so himiblo and TME LEGEND OF THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBRA. 163 "portionless as thou. Pluck up thy resolution, therefore, and drive these idle notions from thy mind." The words of the immaculate Fredegonda only served to in- crease the melancholy of her niece, hut she sought to indulge it in private. At a late hour one midsummer night, after her aunt had retired to rest, she remained alone in the hall of the tower, seated beside the alabaster fountain. It was here that the faithless page had first knelt and kissed her hand, it was here that he had often vowed eternal fldeUty. The poor little damsel's heart was overladen with sad and tender recollections, her tears began to flow, and slowly fell, drop by drop, into the fountain. By degrees the crystal water became agitated, and, bubble — bubble — bubble, boiled up, and was tossed about until a female figure, richly clad in Moorish robes, slowly rose to view. Ja«inta was so frightened, that she fled from the hall, and did not venture to return. The next morning, she related what she had seen to her aunt, but the good lady treated it as a fantasy of her troubled mind, or supposed she had fallen asleep and dreamt beside the fountain. "Thou hast been ■ thinking of the story of the three Moorish princesses that once inhabited the tower," continued she, "and it has entered into thy dreams." "What story, aunt? I know nothing of it." "Thou hast certainly heard of the three princesses, Zayda, Zorayda, and Zorahayda, who were confined in this tower by the king their father, and agreed to fly with three Christian cavaliers. The first two accomphshed their escape, but the third failed in resolution and remained, and it is said died in this tower." " I now recollect to have heard of it," said Jacinta, "and to have wept over the fate of the gentle Zorahayda." " Thou mayst well weep over her fate," continued the aimt, "for the Isverof Zorahayda was thy ancestor. He long be- moaned hid Moorish love, but time ciu-ed him of his grief, and he married a Spanish lady, from whom thou art descended." Jacinta ruminated upon these words. "That what I have seen is no fantasy of the brain," said she to herself, " I am con- fident. If indeed it be the sprite of the gentle Zorahayda, which I have heard lingers about this tower, of what should I be afraid? I'U watch by the fountain to-night, perhaps the visit wiU be repeated." Towards midnight, when every thing was quiet, she again 164 TEE ALMAMBRA. took her seat in the hall. As the bell on the distant ■watch- tower of the Alhambra struck the midnight hour, the fountain was again agitated, and bubble — bubble — bubble, it tossed about the waters untU the Moorish female agaia rose to view. She was yoimg and beautiful ; her dress was rich with jewels, and in her hand she held a silver lute. Jacinta trembled and was faint, but was reassured by the soft and plaintive voice of the apparition, and the sweet expression of her pale melan- choly countenance. "Daughter of Mortality," said she, " what aUeth thee? Why do thy tears trouble my fountain, and thy sighs and plaints distiu-b the quiet watches of the night?" " I weep because of the faithlessness of man; and I bemoan my soHtary and forsaken state." "Take comfort, thy sorrows may yet have an end. Thou beholdest a Moorish princess, who, like thee, was unhappy in her love. A Christian knight, thy ancestor, won my heart, and would have borne me to his native land, and to the bosom of his church. I was a convert in my heart, but I lacked cour- age equal to my faith, and lingered till too late. For this, the , evil genii are permitted to have power over me, and I remain enchanted in this tower, until some pure Christian will deign to break the magic spell. WUt thou undertake the task?" " I wHl!" replied the damsel, trembling. " Come hither, then, and fear not: dip thy hand in the foun- tain, sprinkle the water over me, and baptize me after the manner of thy faith ; so shall the enchantment be dispelled, and my troubled spirit have repose." The damsel advanced with faltering steps, dipped her hand in the fountain, collected water in the pahn, and sprinkled it over the pcde face of the phantom. The latter smiled with ineffable benignity. She di-opped her silver lute at the feet of Jacinta, crossed her white arms upon her bosom, and melted from sight, so that it seemed merely as if a shower of dewdrops had faUen into the fountain. Jacinta retired from the hall, filled with awe and wonder. She scarcely closed her eyes that night, but when she awoke at daybreak out of a troubled slumber, the whole appeared to her like a distempered dream. On descending into the hall, however, the truth of the vision was established; for, beside the fountain she beheld the silver lute glittering in the morn- ing simshine. She hastened to her aunt, related all that had befallen her, THE LEGEND OF THE ROSE OF THE ALHAMBRA. 165 and called her to behold the lute as a testimomal of the reality of her story. If the good lady had any lingering doubts, they were removed when Jacinta touched the instrument, for she di-ew forth such ravishing tones as to thaw even the frigid bosom of the immaculate Fredegonda, that region of eternal winter, into a genial flow. Nothing but supernatural melody could have produced such an effect. The extraordinary power of the lute became every day more and more apparent. The wajf arer passing by the tower waB detained, and, as it were, spell-bound, in breathless ecstasy. The very birds gathered in the neighbouring trees, and, hush- ing their own strains, hstened in charmed silence. Eumour soon spread the news abroad. The inhabitants of Granada thronged to the Alhambra, to catch a few notes of the transcendent music that floated about the tower of Las In- fantas. The lovely little minstrel was at length drawn forth from her retreat. The rich and powerful of the land contended who should entertain and do honour to her; or rather, who should secure the charms of her lute, to draw fashionable throngs to their saloons. Wherever she went, her vigilant aunt kept a dragon-watch at her elbow, awing the throngs of impassioned admirers who hung in raptures on her strains. The report of her wonderful powers spread from city to city: Malaga, Seville, Cordova, all became successively mad on the theme; nothing was talked of throughout Andalusia, but the beauti- ful minstrel of the Alhambra. How could it be otherwise among a people so musical and gallant as the Andalusians, when the lute was magical in its powers, and the minstrel inspired by love. While all Andalusia was thus music-mad, a different mood prevailed at the court of Spain. Philip V., as is weU known, was a miserable hypochondriac, and subject to all kinds of fancies. Sometimes he would keep to his bed for weeks together, groaning under imaginary complaints. At other times he wotdd insist upon abdicating his throne, to the great annoyance of his royal spouse, who had a strong rehsh for the splendours of a court and the glories of a crown, and guided the sceptre of her imbecile lord with an expert and steady hand. Nothing was found to be so efficacious in dispelling the royal megrims as the powers of music; the queen took care, therefore, to have the best performers, both vocal and 166 TSE ALEAMBRA. instrumental, at hand, and retained the famous Italian «ingeT FarinelU about the court as a kiad of royal physician. At the moment we treat of, however, a freak had come over the mind of this sapient and illustrious Bourbon, that sur- passed all former vagaries. After a long spell of imaginary illness, which set all the strains of FarineUi, and the consul- tations of a whole orchestra of court fiddlers, at defiance, the monarch fairly, in idea, gave up the ghost, and considered himself absolutely dead. Tills would have been harmless enough, and even convenient both to his queen and courtiers, had he been content to remain in the quietude befitting a dead man ; but, to their annoyance, he insisted upon having the funeral ceremonies performed over him, and, to their inexpressible perplexity, began to grow impatient, and to revile bitterly at them for negli- gence and disrespect in leaving him unburied. What was to be done? To disobey the king's positive commands was monstrous in the eyes of the obsequious courtiers of a punc- tiUous court, — but to obey him, and bury bim alive, would be downright regicide ! In the midst of this fearful dilemma, a rumour reached the court of the female minstrel, who was turning the brains of all Andalusia. The queen despatched missives in all haste, to sunmaon her to St. Ildefonso, where the court at that time resided. Within a few days, as the queen with her maids of honour was walking in those stately gardens, intended, with their avenues, and terraces, and fountains, to echpse the glories of Versailles, the far-famed minstrel was conducted into her presence. The imperial Ehzabetta gazed with surprise at the youthfiil and unpretending appearance of the httle being that had set the world madding. She was in her picturesque Andalusian dress; her silver lute was in her hand, and she stood with modest and downcast eyes, but with a simplicity and freshness of beauty that stiQ bespoke her "The Eose of the Alhambra." As usual, she was accompanied by the ever vigilant Frede- gonda, who gave the whole history of her parentage and descent to the inquiring queen. If the stately Ehzabetta had been interested by the appearance of Jacinta, she was still more pleased when she learnt that she was of a meri- torious, though impoverished line, and that her father had bravely fallen in the service of the crown. "If thy powers THE LEGEND OF THE ROSE OF THE ALUAMBRA. 167 . equal -their renown," said she, "and thou canst cast forth this evil spirit that possesses thy sovereign, thy fortune shall henceforth be my care, and honours and wealth attend thee." Impatient to make trial of her skill, she led the way at onco to the apartment of the moody monarch. Jacinta followed with downcast eyes through files of guards and crowds of courtiers. They arrived at length at a great chamber hung in black. The windows were closed, to exclude the hght of day ; a niunber of yellow wax tapers, in silver sconces, diffused a lugubrious hght, and dimly revealed the figures of mutes in mourning dresses, and courtiers, who glided about with noise- less step and woe-begone visage. On the midst of a funeral bed or. bier, his hands folded on his breast, and the tip of his nose just visible, lay extended this would-be-buried monarch. The queen enterea the chamber in silence, and, pointing to a footstool in an obscure comer, beckoned to Jaciata to sit down and commence. At first she touched her lute with a faltering hand, but gathering confidence and animation as she proceeded, drew forth such soft, aerial harmony, that all present could scarce beUeve it mortal. As to the monarch, who had already con- sidered himseK in the world of spirits, he set it down for some angehc melody, or the music of the spheres. By degrees the theme was varied, and the voice of the minstrel accompanied the instrument. She poured forth one of the legendary bal- lads treating of the ancient glories of the Alhambra, and thfi achievements of the Moors. Her whole soul entered into the theme, for with the recollections of the Alhambra was associ- ated the story of her love ; the funereal chamber resounded with the animating strain. It entered into the gloomy heart of the monarch. He reused his head and gazed around ; he sat up on his couch; his eye began to kindle; at length, leaping upon the floor, he called for sword and buckler. The triumph of music, or rather of the enchanted lute, was complete ; the demon of melancholy was cast forth ; and, as it were, a dead man brought to life. The windows of the apari.- ment were thrown open; the glorious effulgence of Spanish sunshine burst into the late lugubrious chamber; all eyee sought the -lovely enchantress, but the lute had fallen from he^* hand; she had sunk upon the earth, and the next moment was clasped to the boaom of Euyz de Alarcon. The nuptials of the happy couple were shortly after celebratcil with great splendour, — but hold, I hear the reader ask how did 168 THE ALHAMBRA. Euyz de Alarcon account for his long neglect? Oh,— that was all owing to the opposition of a proud pragmatical old father, — besides, young people, who really like one another, soon come to an amicable understanding, and bury aU past grievances whenever they meet. But how was the proud pragmatical old father reconciled to the match? Oh, his scruples were easily overruled by a word or two from the queen, — especially as dignities and rewards were showered upon the blooming favourite of royalty. Besides, the lute of Jacinta, you know, possessed a magic power, and could con- trol the most stubborn head and hardest heart. And what became of the enchanted lute? Oh, that is the most curious matter of aU, and plainly proves the truth of^aU the story. That lute remained for some time in the family, but was. purloined and carried off, as was sup- posed, by the great singer Farinelli, in pure jealousy. At his death it passed into other hands in Italy, who were ignorant of its mystic powers, and melting down the silver, transferred the strings to an old Cremona fiddle. The strings still retain some- thing of their magic virtues. A word in the reader's ear, but let it go no fm-ther, — ^that fiddle is now bewitching the whole world,— it is the fiddle of Paganini ! THE VETERAN. Among the curious acquaintances I have made in my rambles about the fortress, is a brave and battered old Colonel of In- valids, who is nestled like a hawk in one of the Moorish towers. His history, which he is fond of telling, is a tissue of those adventures, mishaps, and vicissitudes that render the life of almost every Spaniard of note as varied and whimsical as the pages of GU Bias. He was in America at twelve years of age, and reckons am.ong the most signal and f ortimate events of his life, his hav- ing seen General Washington. Since then he has taken a part in all the wars of his country ; he can speak experimentally of most of the prisons and dungeons of the Peninsula, has been lamed of one leg, crippled in his hand, and so cut up and car- bonadoed, that he is a kind of waUring monument of the- troubles of Spain, on which there is a scar for every battle and THE VETERAN. 169 broil, as every year was notched upon the tree of Eobinson Crusoe. The greatest misfortune of the brave old cavalier, however, appeai-s to have been his having commanded at Malaga during a time of peril and confusion, and been made a general by the inhabitants to protect them from the invasion of the French. This has entailed upon him a number of just claims upon government that I fear will employ him until his dying day in writing and printing petitions and memorials, to the great dis- quiet of his mind, exhaustion of his pui-se, and penance of his friends ; not one of whom can visit him without having to listen to a mortal document of half an hom* in length, and to carry away half a dozen pamphlets in his pocket. This, however, is the case throughout Spain : every where you meet with some worthy wight brooding in a comer, and nursing up some pet grievance and cherished wrong. Beside, a Spaniard who has a lawsuit, or a claim upon government, may be considered as furnished with employment for the remainder of his hfe. I visited the veteran in his quarters in the upper part of the Terre del Vino, or Wine Tower. His room was small but snug, and commanded a beautiful view of the Vega. It was arranged with a soldier's precision. Three muskets and a brace of pistols, all bright and shining, were suspended against the wall, with a sabre and a cane hanging side by side, and above these two cocked hats, one for parade, and one for ordinary use. A small shelf, containing some half dozen books, formed lys Mbrary, one of which, a little old movildy volmne of philosophical maxims, was his favourite reading. This he thmnbed and pondered over day by day ; applying every maxim to his own particvdar case, provided it had a httle tinge of wholesome bit- terness, and treated of the injustice of the world. Yet he is social and kind-hearted, and, provided he can be diverted from his wrongs and his philosophy, is an entertain- ing companion. I like these old weather-beaten sons of fortune, and enjoy their rough campaigning anecdotes. In the course of my visit to the one in question, I leamt some curious facts about an old military conunander of the fortress, who seems to have resembled him ia some respects, and to have had similar fortunes in the wars. These particulars have been augmented by inquiries among some of the old inhabitants of the place, particularly the father of Mateo i^imenes, of whose traditional stories the worthy I am about to introduce to the reader is a favourite hero. 170 THE ALHAMBRA. THE GOVEENOE AND THE NOTAEY. In former times there ruled, as governor of the'Alhambra, a doughty old cavalier, who, from having lost one arm in the •wars, was commonly known by the name of El Gobemador Manco, or the one-armed governor. He in fact prided himself upon being an old soldier, wore his mustachios curled up to his eyes, a pair of campaigning boots, and a toledo as long as a spit, with his pocket handkerchief in the basket-hilt. He was, moreover, exceedingly proud and pimctilious, and tenacious of all his privileges and dignities. Under his sway, the immunities of the Alhambra, as- a royal residence and do- main, were rigidly exacted. No one was permitted to enter the fortress with fire-arms, or even with a sword or staff, unless he were of a certain rank, and every horseman was obhged to dismount at the gate and lead his horse by the bridle. Now, as the bin of the Alhambra rises from the very midst of the city of Granada, being, as it were, an excrescence of the capi- tal, it must at all times be somewhat irksome to the captain- general who commands the province, to have thus an imperium in imperio, a petty independent post, in the very core of his domains. It was rendered the more galling in the present instance, from the irritable jealousy of the old governor, that took fire on the least question of authority and juiisdiction, and from the loose vagrant character of the people that had gradually nestled themselves within the fortress as in a sanctu- ary, and from thence carried on a system of roguery and dep- redation at the expense of the honest inhabitants of the city. Thus there was a perpetual feud and heart-burning between the captain-general and the governor; the more virulent on the part of the latter, inasmuch as the smallest of two neigh- bouring potentates is always the most captious about his dignity. The stately palace of the captain-general stood in the Plaza Nueva, immediately at the foot of the hill of the Alhambra, and here was always a bustle and parade of guards, and domes- tics, and city functionaries. A beetling bastion of the fortress overlooked the palace and the public square in front of it; and on this bastion the old governor would occasionally strut back- wards and forwards, with his toledo girded by his side, keeping. THE GOVERNOR AND THE NOTAET. 171 a wjiry eye down upon his rival, like a hawk reconnoitring his quarry from his nest in a dry tree. Whenever he descended into the city, it was in grand parade, on horseback, surrovmded by his guards, or in his state coach, an ancient and unwieldy Spanish edifice of carved timber and gUt leather, drawn by eight mules, with running footmen, outriders, and lacqueys, on which occasions he iitit- tcred himself he impressed every beholder with awe and ad- miration as vicegerent of the king, though the wits of Gra- nada, particularly those who loitered about the palace of the captain-general, were apt to sneer at his petty parade, and, in allusion to the vagrant character of his subjects, to greet him with the appellation of " the King of the beggars." One of the most fruitful sources of dispute between these two doughty rivals, was the right claimed by the governor to have all things passed free of duty through the city, that were intended for the use of himself or his garrison. By de- grees, this privilege had given rise to extensive smugghng. A nest of contrabandistas took up their abode in the hovels of the fortress and the numerous caves in its vicinity, and drove a thriving business under the connivanc;e of the soldiers of the garrison. The vigilance of the captain-general was aroused. He con- sulted his legal adviser and factotum, a shrewd, meddlesome Escribano or notary, who rejoiced in an opportunity of per- plexing the old potentate of the Alhambra, and involving him in a maze of legal subtUities. He advised the captain-general to insist upon the right of examining every convoy passing through the gates of his city, and he penned a long letter for him, in vindication of the right. Governor Manco was a straight-forward, cut-and-thrust old soldier, who hated an Escribano worse than the devil, and this one in particular, worse than aU other Escribanoes. " Whatl" said he, cirrUng up his mustachios fiercely, " does the captain-general set his man of the pen to practise con- fusions upon me? I'U let him see that an old soldier is not to be baffled by Schoolcraft." He seized his pen, and scrawled a short letter in a crabbed hand, in which, without deigning to enter into argument, he insisted on the right of transit free of search, and denounced vengeance on any custom-house oflScer who shotdd lay his un- hallowed hand on any convoy protected by the flag of the Alhambra. 172 THE ALHAMBRA. While this question was agitated between the two pragmati- cal potentates, it so happened that a mule laden with suppKes for the fortresj arrived one day at the gate of Serul, by which it was to traverse a suburb of the city on its way to the Alhambra. The convoy was headed by a testy old corporal, who had long served under the governor, and was a man after his own heart ; as trusty and staunch as an old toledo blade. As they approached the gate of the city, the corporal placed the banner of the Alhambra on- the pack saddle of the mule, and, drawing himself up to a perfect perpendicular, advanced with his head dressed to the front, but with the wary side glance of a cur passing through hostile grounds, and ready for a snap and a snarl. "Who goes there?" said the sentinel at the gate. " Soldier of the Alhambra," said the corporal, without turn- ing his head. " What have you in charge?" "Provisions for the garrison." " Proceed." The corporal marched straight forward, followed by the convoy, but had not advanced many paces, before a posse of custom-house officer rushed out of a small toU-house. "Hallo there!" cried the leader: "Muleteer, halt and open those packages." The corporal wheeled round, and drew himself up in battle array. "Respect the flag of the Alhambra," said he; "these things are for the governor." " A fig for the governor, and a fig for his flag. Muleteer, halt, I say." " Stop the convoy at your peril!" cried the corporal, cocking his m.usket. "Miileteer, proceed." The muleteer gave his beast a hearty thwack, the custom- house officer sprang forward, and seized the halter; where- upon the corporal levelled his piece and shot him dead. The street was immediately in an uproar. The old corporal was seized, and after undergoing sundry kicks and cufts, and cudgeUings, which are generally given impromptu, by the mob in Spain, as a foretaste of the after penalties of the law, he was loaded with irons, and conducted to the city prison; while his comrades were permitted to proceed with the convoy, after it had been well rummaged, to the Alhambra. The old governor was in a towering passion, when he heard of this insult to his flag and capture of his corporal. For a TEE GOVEBNOB AND THE NOTABT. 173 time he stormed about the Moorish haUs, and vapoiired about the bastions, and looked down fire and sword upon the palace of the captain-general. Having vented the first ebullition of his wrath, he despatched a message demanding the surrender of the corporal, as to him alone belonged the right of sitting in judgment on the offences of those under his command. The captain-general, aided by the pen of the dehghted Escri- bano, repMed at great length, arguing that as the ofEence had been committed within the walls of his city, and against one of his civil officers, it was clearly witliin his proper jurisdic- tion. The governor rejoined by a repetition of his demand ; the captain general gave a sur-rejouider of still greater length, and legal acumen; the governor became hotter and more per- emptory in his demands, and the captain-general cooler and more copious In his rephes ; until the old hon-heartcd soldier absolutely roared with hixj, at being thus entangled in the meshes of legal controversy. While the subtle Escribano was thus amusing himself at the expense of the governor, he was conducting the trial of the corporal ; who, mewed up in a narrow dungeon of the prison, had merely a small grated window at which to show his u-on- bound visage, and receive the consolations of his friends; a mountain of written testimony was dihgently heaped up, ac- cording to Spanish form, by the indefatigable Escribano ; the corporal was completely overwhelmed by it. He was con- victed of murder, and sentenced to be hanged. It was in vain the governor sent down remonstrance and menace from the Alhambra. The fatal day was at hand, and the corporal was put in capilla, that is to say, in the chapel of the prison; as is always done with culprits the day before execution, that they may meditate on their approaching end, and repent them of their sins. Seeing things drawing to an extremity, the old governor determined to attend to the affair in person. For this purpose he ordered out his carriage of state, and, surrounded by his guards, rambled down the avenue of the Alhambra into the city. Driving to the house of the Escribano, he summoned him to the portal. . The eye of the old governor gleamed Uke a coal at beholding the smirking man of the law advancing with an air of exul- tation. "What is this I hear," cried he, "that you are about to put to death one of my soldiers?" 174 THE ALHAMBRA. "AH according to law, — aU in strict form of justice," said the self-sufiacient Escribano, chuckling and rubbing his hands. "I can show your excellency the written testimony in the case." "Fetch it hither," said the governor. The Escribano bustled into his office, deUghted with having another opportimity of displaying his ingenuity at the expense of the hard-headed veteran. He returned with a satchel full of papers, and began to read a long deposition with profes- sional volubility. By this time, a crowd had collected, listen- ing with outstretched necks and gaping mouths. "Pry'thee man, get into the carriage out of this pestilent throng, that I may the better hear thee," said the governor. The Escribano entered the carriage, when, in a twinkling, the door was closed, the coachman smacked his whip, mules, carriage, guards, and aU dashed ofE at a thimdering rate, leav- ing the crowd in gaping wonderment, nor did the governor pause imtil he had lodged his prey in one of the strongest dungeons of the Alhambra. He then sent down a flag of truce in miUtary style, propos- ing a cartel or exchange of prisoners, the corporal for the notary. The pride of the captain-general was piqued, he re- turned a contemptuous refusal, and forthwith caused a gal- lows, tall and strong, to be erected in the centre of the Plaza Neuva, for the execution of the corporal. "O ho! is that the game?" said Governor Manco: he gave orders, and immediately a gibbet was reared on the verge of the great beetling bastion that overlooked the Plaza. " Now," said he, in a message to the captain-general, ' ' hang my soldier when you please ; but at the same time that he is swung off in the square, look up to see your Escribano dangUng against the sky." The captain-general was inflexible ; troops were paraded in. the square ; the drums beat ; the beU toUed ; an immense mul- titude of amateura had collected to behold the execution; on the other hand, the governor paraded his garrison on the bas- tion, and toUed the funeral dirge of the notary from the Torre de la Campana, or tower of the beU. The notary's wife pressed tlirough the crowd with a whole progeny of little embryo Escribanoes at her heels, and throw- ing herself at the feet of the captain-general, implored him not to sacrifice the life of her husband, and the welfare of herself and her numerous Uttle ones to a point of pride; "for you GOVERNOR MANCO AND THE SOLDIER. 175 know the old governor too well," said she, "to doubt that he will put his threat in execution if you hang the soldier." The captain-general was overpowered by her tears and lam- entations, and the clamours of her caUow brood. The corporal was sent up to the Alhambra under a guard, in his gallows garb, hke a hooded friar; but with head erect and a face of iron. The Escribano was demanded in exchange, according to the cartel. The once bustling and self-sufficient man of the law was drawn forth from his dungeon, more dead than alive. All his flippancy and conceit had evaporated; his hair, it is said, had nearly turned gray with affright, and he had a down- cast, dogged look, as if he stiU felt the halter round his neck. The old governor stuck his one arm a-kimbo, and for a mo- ment surveyed him with an iron smQe. "Henceforth, my friend," said he, "moderate your zeal in hurrying others to the gallows; be not too certain of your own safety, even though you should have the law on your side; and, above aU, take care how you play off your schoolcraft another time upon an old soldier." GOVERNOR MANCO AND THE SOLDIER. When Governor Manco, or the one-armed, kept up a show of military state in the Alhambra, he became nettled at the re- proaches continually cast upon his fortress of being a nestling place of rogues and contrabandistas. On a sudden, the old potentate determined on reform, and setting vigorously to work, ejected whole nests of vagabonds out of the fortress, and the gypsy caves with which the surrounding hiUs are honey-combed. He sent out soldiei-s, also, to patrol the avenues and footpaths, with orders to take up all suspicious persons. One bright summer morning, a patrol consisting of the testy old corporal who had distinguished himself in the affaii- of the notary, a trumpeter and two privates were seated under the garden wall of the Generaliffe, beside the road which leads down from the mountain of the Sun, when they heard the tramp of a horse, and a male voice singing in rough, though not unmusical tones, an old Oastilian campaigning song. Presently they beheld a sturdy, sun-burnt fellow clad in the 176 THE ALHAMBBA. ragged garb of a foot-soldier, leading a powerful Arabian horse caparisoned in the ancient Morisco fashion. Astonished at the sight of a strange soldier, descending, steed in hand, from that sohtary moimtain, the corporal stepped forth and challenged him. "Who goes there?" " A friend. " "Who, and what are you?" "A poor soldier, just from the wars, with a cracked crown and empty purse for a reward." By this time they were enabled to view biin more narrowly. He had a black patch across his forehead, which, with a griz zled beard, added to a certain dare-devil. cast of countenance, while a shght squint threw into the whole an occasional gleam of roguish good-humour. Having answered the questions of the patrol, the soldier seemed to consider himself entitled to make others in return. "May I ask," said he, " what city is this which I see at the foot of the hiU?" ^ "What city!" cried the trumpeter; "come, that's too bad. Here's a fellow lurking about the mountain of the Sun, and demands the name of the great city of Granada." "Granada! Madre de Dios! can it be possible!" "Perhaps not!" rejoined the trmnpeter, "and perhaps you have no idea that yonder are the towers of the Alhambra?" " Son of a trumpet," replied the stranger, "do not trifle with me ; if this be indeed the Alhambra, I have some strange mat- ters to reveal to the governor." " Tou wiU have an opportunity," said the corporal, " for we mean to take you before him." By this time the trumpeter had seized the bridle of the steed, the two privates had each secured an arm of the soldier, the corporal put himself in front, gave the word, "forward, march !" and away they marched for the Alhambra. The sight of a ragged foot-soldier and a fine Arabian horse brought in captive by the patrol, attracted the attention of all the idlers of the fortress, and of those gossip groups that gen- erally assemble about wells and fountains at early dawn. The wheel of the cistern paused in its rotations ; the sKpshod ser- vant-maid stood gaping with pitcher in hand, as the corporal passed by with his prize. A motley train gradually gathered in the rear of the escort. Knowing nods, and winks, and con- jectures passed from one to another. It is a deserter, Eaid aOVERNOR MANGO AND THE SOLDIER. ]77 one ; a contrabandista, said another ; a bandalero, said a third, until it was affirmed that a captain of a desperate band of robbers had been captured by the prowess of the corporal and his patrol. "Well, well," said the old crones one to another, " captain or not, let him get out of the grasp of old Governor Manco if he can, though he is but one-handed." Governor Manco was seated in one of the inner haUs of the Alhambra, taking his morning's cup of chocolate in company with his confessor, a fat Franciscan friar from the neighbour- ing convent. A demxu-e, dark-eyed damsel of Malaga, the daughter of his housekeeper, was attending upon him. The world hinted that the damsel, who, with all her demure- ness, was a sly, buxom baggage, had found out a soft spot in the iron heart of the old governor, and held complete con- trol over him, — but let that pass; the domestic affairs of these mighty potentates of the earth should not be too narrowly scrutinized. When word was brought that a suspicious stranger had been taken lurking about the fortress, and was actually in the outer court, in durance of the corporal, waiting the pleasm-e of his excellency, the pride and statehness of office swelled the bosom of the governor. Giving back his chocolate cup into the hands of the demure damsel, he called for his basket-hilted sword, girded it to his side, twirled up his mustachios, took his seat in a large high-backed chair, assumed a bitter and for- bidding aspect, and ordered the prisoner into his presence. The soldier was brought in, stiU closely pinioned by his cap- tors, and guarded by the corporal. He maintained, however, a resolute, self-confident air, and returned the sharp, scruti- nizing look of the governor with an easy squint, which by no means pleased the punctilious old potentate. "Well, culprit!" said the governor, after he had regarded him for a moment in silence, " what have you to say for your- self? who are you?" "A soldier, just from the wars, who has brought away nothing but scars and bruises." "A soldier? hmnph! a foot-soldier by your garb. I under- stand you have a fine Arabian horse. I presume you brought Viim too from the wars, beside your scars and bruises." "May it please your excellency, I have something strange to tell about that horse. Indeed, I have one of the most won- derful things to relate — something too that concerns the secu- rity of this fortress, indeed, of aU Granada. But it is a matter 178 THE ALEAMBBA. to be imparted only to your private ear, or in presence oi such only as are in your confidence. " The governor considered for a moment, and then directed the corporal and his men to withdraw, but to post themselves out- side of the door, and be ready at call. " This holy friar," said he, "is my confessor, you may say anything in his presence— and this damsel," nodding towards the handmaid, who had loitered with an air cf great curiosity, " this damsel is of great secrecy and discretion, and to be trusted with any thing." The soldier gave a glance between a squint and a leer at the demure handmaid. "I am perfectly willing," said he, "that the damsel should remain." When all the rest had withdrawn, the soldier commenced his story. He was a fluent, smooth-tongued varlet, and had a command of language above his apparent rank. "May it please your excellency," said he, "I am, as I before observed, a soldier, and have seen some hard service, but my term of enlistment being expired, I was discharged not long since from the army at VaUadolid, and set out on foot for my native village in Andalusia. Yesterday evening the sun went down as I was traversing a great dry plain of old Castile." "Hold!" cried the governor, "what is this you say? Old Castile is some two or three hundred miles from this." "Even so," replied the soldier, coolly, "I told your excel- lency I had strange things to relate — ^but not more strange than true — as your excellency will find, if you wiU deign me a patient hearing." "Proceed, culprit," said the governor, twirling up his mus- tachios. "As the sun went down," continued the soldier, " I cast my eyes about in search of some quarters for the night, but far as my sight could reach, there were no signs of habitation. I saw that I shoiild have to make my bed on the naked plain, with my knapsack for a pillow ; but your excellency is an old sol- dier, and knows that to one who has been in the wars, such a night's lodging is no great hardship." The governor nodded assent, as he drew his pocket-handker- chief out of the basket-hilt of his sword, to drive away a fly that buzzed about his nose. "Well, to make a long story short," continued the soldier, " I trudged forward for several miles, until I came to a bridge over a deep ravine, through which ran a little thread of water, almost dried up by the siunmer heat. At one end of the bridge GOVERNOR MANCO AND TEE SOLDIER. 179 was a Moorish, tower, the upper part all in ruins, hut a vault in the foundations quite entire. Here, thinks I, is a good place to make a halt. So I went down to the stream, took a hearty drink, for the water was pure and sweet, and I was parched with thirst, then opening my wallet, 1 took out an onion and a few crusts, which were all my provisions, and seating myself on a stone on the margin of the stream, hegan to make my supper; intending afterwards to quarter myseM for the night in the vault of the tower, and capital quarters they would have been for a campaigner just from the wars, as your excellency, who is an old soldier, may suppose." "I have put up gladly with worse in my time," said the governor, returning his pocket-handkerchief into the hUt of his sword. "While I was quietly crunching my crust," piu«ued the soldier, "I heard something stir within the vault; I listened: it was the tramp of a horse. By and by a man came forth fi'om a door in the foundation of the tower, close by the w^ater's edge, leading a powerful horse by the bridle. I could not well make out what he was by the staxKght. It had a suspicious look to be lurking among the ruins of a tower in that wild solitary place. He might be a mere wayfarer like myself; he might be a contrabandista; he might be a banda- lero! AVhat of that,— thank heaven and my poverty, I had nothing to lose, — so I sat stiQ and crunched my crusts. "He led his horse to the water close by where I was sitting, so that I had a fair opportunity of reconnoitring him. To my surprise, he was dressed in a Moorish garb, with a cuirass of steel, and a polished skullcap, that I distinguished by the re- flection of the stars upon it. His horse, too, was harnessed in the Morisco fashion, with great shovel stirrups. He led him, as I said, to the side of the stream, into which the animal plunged his head almost to the eyes, and drank until I thought he would have burst. " ' Comrade,' said I, ' your steed drinks well; it's a good sign when a horse plunges his muzzle bravely into the water. ' " 'He may well drink,' said the stranger, speaking with a Moorish accent; 'it is a good year since he had his last draught.' '"By Santiago,' said I, 'that beats even the camels that I have seen in Africa. But come, you seem to be something of a soldier, won't you sit down, and take part of a soldier's fare?' — In fact, I felt the want of a companion in this lonely place, 180 ^^^ ALIIAMBIiA. and was ■wHliiig to put up with an infideL Besides, as your excellency well knows, a soldier is never very particular about the faith of his company, and soldiers of all countries are com- rades on peaceable ground." The governor again nodded assent. "WeU, as I was saying, I invited him to share my supper, such Eis it was, for I could not do less in common hospitaUty. " 'I have no time to pause for meat or drink,' said he, 'I have a long journey to make before morning.' " ' In which direction? ' said I. ' ' ' Andalusia,' said he. " ' Exactly my route,' said I. ' So as you won't stop and eat with me, perhaps you'U let me mount and ride with you. I see your horse is of a powerfiJ. frame : I'll warrant he'll carry double.' "'Agreed,' said the trooper; and it woiild not have been civil and soldierlike to refuse, especially as I had offered to share my supper with him.. So up he mounted, and up I mounted behind him. " ' Hold fast,' said he, ' my steed goes like the wind.' " 'Never fear me,' said I, and so off we set. " From a walk the horse soon passed to a trot, from a trot to a gallop, and from a gallop to a harum-scarum scamper. It seemed as if rocks, trees, houses, everything, flewhiury-scurry behind us. " ' What town is this? ' said I. " 'Segovia,' said he; and before the words were out of his Uiouth, the towers of Segovia were out of sight. We swept up the Guadarama mountains, and down by the Escurial ; and we skirted the walls of Madrid, and we scoured away across the plains of La Mancha. In this way we went up bill and down dale, by towns and cities aU biu-ied in deep sleep, and across mountains, and plains, and rivers, just glimmering in the star- light. ' ' To make a long story short, and not to fatigue your exceL lency, the trooper suddenly pulled up on the side of a moun- tain. ' Here we are,' said he, ' at the end of our journey.' "I looked about but could see no signs of habitation: noth- ing but the mouth of a cavern : while I looked, I saw multitudes of people in Moorish dresses, some on horseback, some on foot, arriving as if borne by the wind from all points of the compass, and hurrying into the mouth of the cavern like bees into a hive. Before I could ask a question, the trooper struck hia GOVERNOR MANCO AND THE SOLDIER. 181 long Moorish spurs into the horse's flanks, and dashed in with the throng. "We passed along a steep winding way that de- scended iato the very bowels of the mountaia. As we pushed on, a hght began to gUmmer up by httle and Mttle, hke the first glimmerings of day, but what caused it, 1 could not dis- cover. It grew stronger and stronger, and enabled me to see everything around. I now noticed as we passed along, great caverns opening to the right and left, like halls in an arsenal. In some there were shields, and hehnets, and cuirasses, and lances, and scimitars hanging against the wall^; in others, there were great heaps of warlike munitions and camp equi- page lying upon the ground. "It would have done your excellency's heart good, being an old soldier, to have seen such grand provision for war. Then in other caverns there were long rows of horsemen, armed to the teeth, with lances raised and banners unfurled, all ready for the field ; but they all sat motionless in. their saddles like so many statues. Jn other halls, were warriors sleeping on the ground beside their horses, and foot soldiers in groups, ready to fall^into the ranks. All were in old-fashioned Moorish dresses and armour. "WeU, your excellency, to cut a long story short, we at length entered an immense cavern, or I might say palace, of grotto work, the walls of which seemed to be veined with gold and silver, and to sparkle with diamonds and sapphires, and all kinds of precious stones. At the upper end sat a Moorish king on a golden throne, with his nobles on each side, and a guard of African blacks with drawn scimitars. All the crowd that continued to flock in, and amounted to thousands and thousands, passed one by one before his throne, each paying homage as he passed. Some of the multitude were dressed in magnificent robes, without stain or blemish, and sparkling with jewels ; others in burnished and enamelled armour ; while others were in mouldered and mildewed garments, and in armour aU battered and dinted, and covered with rust. "I had hitherto held my tongue, for yoin* excellency well knows, it is not for a soldier to ask many questions when on duty, but I could keep silence no longer. '"Pr'ythee, comrade,' said I, 'what is the meaning of all this?' " ' This,' said the trooper, ' is a great and powerful mystery. Know, O Christian, that you see before you the court and army of BoabdH,^ the last Idng of Granada.' 182 2'i/£ ALIIAMBliA. " 'What is tMs you tell mel' cried I. 'BoabdU and his court were exiled from the land hundreds of years agone, and all died in Africa. ' " 'So it is recorded ia your lying chronicles,' repMed the Moor, 'but know that Boebdil and the warriors who made the last struggle for Granada were all shut up in this moun- tain by powerful enchantment; As to the king and army that marched forth from Granada at the time of the [sirrrender, they were a mere phantom train, or spirits and demons per- mitted to assmne those shapes to deceive the Christian sove- reigns. And furthermore let me tell you, friend, that all Spain is a country under the power of enchantment. There is not a mountain-cave, not a lonely watch-tower in the plains, nor ruined castle on the hills, but has some spell-bound warriors sleeping from age to age within its vaults, until the sins are expiated for which Allah permitted the dominion to pass for a time out of the hands of the faithful. Once every year, on the eve of St. John, they are released from enchantment from sun- set to sunrise, and permitted to repair here to pay homage to their sovereign ; and the crowds which you beheld swarming into the cavern are Moslem warriors from their haimts in all parts of Spain; for my own part, you saw the ruined tower of the bridge in old Castile, where I have now wintered and simi- mered for many himdred years, and where I must be back again by day -break. As to the battalions of horse and foot which you beheld drawn up in array in the neighbouring cav- erns, they are the speIl-boim.d warriors of Granada. It is written in the book of fate, that when the enchantment is broken, Boabdil will descend from the mountains at the head of this army, resume his throne in the Alhambra and his sway of Granada, and gathering together the enchanted warriors from all parts of Spain, will reconquer the peninsula, and re- store it to Moslem rule.' " ' And when shall this happen?' said I. " 'Allah alone knows. We had hoped the day of deliver- ance was at hand ; but there reigns at present a vigQant gov- ernor in Alhambra, a staunch old soldier, the same called Governor Manco ; while such a warrior holds command of the very outpost, and stands ready to check the first irruption from the mountain, I fear Boabdil and his soldiery must be content to rest upon their arms.' " Here the governor raised himself somewhat perpendicularly, adjusted his sword, and twirled up his mustachios. GOVERNOR MANCO AND THE SOLDIER. 183 " To make a long story short, and not to fatigue your excel- lency, the trooper having given me this account, dismounted from his steed. " ' Tarry here,' said he, ' and guard my steed, while I go and bow the knee to Boabdil.' So saying, he strode away among the throng that pressed forward to the throne. "What's to be done? thought I, when thus left to myself. Shall I wait here until this infidel r'etums to whisk me off on his goblin steed, the Lord knows where? or shall I make the most of my time, and beat a retreat from this hobgoblin com- munity? — A soldier's mind is soon made up, as your excellency well knows. As to the horse, he belonged to an avowed enemy of the faith and the reahn, and was a fair prize according to the rules of w^ar. So hoisting myself from the crupper into the saddle, I turned the reins, struck the Moorish stirrups into the sides of the steed, and put him to make the best of his way out of the passage by which we had entered. As we scoured by the haUs where the Moslem horsemen sat in motionless battalions, I thought I heard the clang of armour, and a hollow murmur of voices. I gave the steed another taste of the stirrups, and doubled my speed. There was now a sound behind me Uke a rushing blast ; I heard the clatter of a thousand hoofs; a countless throng overtook me; I was borne along in the press, and hurled forth from the mouth of the cavern, while thousands of shadowy forms were swept off in every direction by the four winds of heaven. "In the whirl and confusion of the scene, I was thrown from the saddle,- and f eU senseless to the earth. When I came to myself I_was lying on the brow of a hill, with the Arabian steed standing beside me, for in falling my arm had slipped within the bridle, which, I presume, prevented his whisking off to old Castile. "Tour excellency may easily judge of my surprise on look- ing round, to behold hedges of aloes and Indian figs, and other proofs of a southern climate, and see a great city below me with towers and palaces, and a grand cathedral. I descended the hill cautiovisly, leading my steed, for I was afraid to mount him again, lest he should play me some slippery trick. As I descended, I met with your patrol, who let me into the secret that it was Granada that lay before mo : and that I was actually under the walls of the Alhambra, the fortress of the redoubted Governor Manco, the terror of all enchanted Mos- lems. Wlien I hoard this, I determined at once to seek your 184 TEE ALEAMBBA. excellency, to inform you of all that I had seen, and to ■warn you of the perils that surround and undemine you, that you may take measures in time to guard your fortress, and the kingdom itself, from this intestine army that liu-ks in the very bowels of the land." " And pr'ythee, friend, you who are a veteran campaigner, and have seen so much service," said the governor, "how would you advise me to go about to prevent this evil?" "It is not for an humble private of the ranks," said the soldier modestly, "to pretend to instruct a commander of your excellency's sagacity; but it appears to me that your excellency might cause all the caves and entrances into the mountain to be walled up with soMd mason-work, so that Boabdil and his army might be completely corked up in their subterranean habitation. If the good father too," added the soldier, reverently bowing to the friar, and devoutly crossing himself, "would consecrate the barricadoes with his blessing, and put up a few crosses and reliques, and images of saints, I think they might withstand all the power of infidel enchant- ments." "They doubtless would be of great avail," said the friar. The governor now placed his arm a-kimbo, with his hand resting on the hUt of his toledo, fixed his eye upon the soldier, and gently wagging his head from one side to the other : " So, friend," said he, " then you really suppose I am to be gulled with this cock-and-bull story about enchanted moun- tains, and enchanted Moors. Hark ye, culprit ! — not another word. — An old soldier you may be, but you'll find you have an old soldier to deal with; and one not easily outgeneralled. Ho I guard there ! — put this fellow in irons." The demure handmaid would have put in a word in favour of the prisoner, but the governor silenced her with a look. As they were pinioning the soldier, one of the guards felt something of bulk in his pocket, and drawing it forth, foimd a long leathern purse that appeared to be well filled. Holding it by one comer, he turned out the contents on the table before the governor, and never did freebooter's bag make more gor- geous dehvery. Out tumbled rings and jewels, and rosaries of pearls, and sparkling diamond crosses, and a profusion of an- cient golden coin, some of which fell jingling to the floor, and rolled away to the uttermost parts of the chamber. For a time the functions of justice were suspended : there was a universal scramble after the glittering fugitives. The GOVERNOR MANCO AND THE SOLDIER. 185 governor alone, who was imbued with true Spanish pride, maintained his stately decorum, though his eye betrayed a little anxiety untU the last coin and jewel was restored to the sack. The friar was not so. calm ; his whole face glowed like a fiu'- nace, and his eyes twinkled and flashed at sight of the rosaries and crosses. " Sacrilegious wretch that thou art," exclaimed he, "what church or sanctuary hast thou been plundering of these sacred reliques?" " Neither one nor the other, holy father. If they be sacrile- gious spoils, they must have been taken in times long past by the infidel trooper I have .mentioned. I was just going to teU his excellency, when he interrupted me, that, on taking pos- session of the trooper's horse, I unhooked a leathern sack which hung at the saddle bow, and which, I presume, contained the plunder of his campaignings in days of old, when the Moors overran the country. " " Mighty well, — at present you will make up your mind to take up your quarters in a chamber of the Vermilion towers, which, though not under a magic spell, will hold you as safe as any cave of your enchanted Moors." " Tour excellency wiH do as you think proper,'' said the pri- soner coolly. " I shall be thankful to your excellency for any accommodation in the fortress. A soldier who has been in the wars, as your excellency weU knows, is not particular about ids lodgings; and provided I have a snug dungeon and regular rations, I shall manage to malcc myself comfortable. I would only entreat, that while yom- excellency is so careful about me, you would have an eye to your fortress, and think on the hint I dropped about stopping up the entrances to the moun- tain." Here ended the scene. The prisoner was conducted to a strong dungeon in the Vermilion towers, the Arabian steed was led to his excellency's stable, and the trooper's sack was deposited in his excellency's strong box. To the latter, it is true, the friar made some demur, questioning whether the sacred reliques, which were evidently sacrilegious spoils, should not be placed in custody of the church; but as the governor was peremptory on the subject, and was absolute lord in the Alhambra, the friar discreetly dropped the discussion, but de- termined to convey inteUigence of the fact to the church dig- nitaries in Granada. 186 THE ALEAMBRA. To explain these prompt and rigid measures on the part of old Governor Manco, it is proper to observe, that about this time the AlptLsarra mountains in the neighbourhood of Gra- nada were terribly infected by a gang of robbers, under the command of a daring chief named Manuel Borasco, -who were accustomed to prowl about the country, and even to enter the city in various disguises to gain intelligence of the departure of convoys of merchandise, or travellers with well-hned purses, whom they took care to waylay in distant and sohtary passes of their road. These repeated and daring outrages had awak- ened the attention of government, and the commanders of the various posts had received instructions to be on the alert, and to take up aU suspicious stragglers. Governor Manco was par- ticularly zealous, in consequence of the various stigmas that had been cast upon his fortress, and he now doubted not that he had entrapped some formidable desperado of this gang. In the mean time the story took wind, and became the talk not merely of the fortress, but of the whole city of Granada. It was said that the noted robber, Manuel Borasco, the traror of the Alpuxarras, had fallen into the clutches of old Governor Manco, and been cooped up by him in a dungeon of the Ver- milion towers, and every one who had been robbed by birrT flocked to recognise the marauder. The Vermilion towers, as is well known, stand apart from the Alhambra, on a sister hill separated from the main fortress by the ravine, down which passes the main avenue. There were no outer walls, but a sen- tinel patrolled before the tower. The window of the chamber in which the soldier was confined was strongly grated, and looked upon a small esplanade. Here the good folks of Gra- nada repaired to gaze at him, as they would at a laughing hyena grinning through the cage of a menagerie. Nobody, however, recognized him for Manuel Borasco, for that terrible robber was noted for a ferocious physiognomy, and had by no means the good-humoured squint of the prisoner. Visitors came not merely from the city, but from all parts of the coun- try, but nobody knew him, and there began to be doubts in the minds of the common people, whether there might not be some truth in his story. That Boabdil and his army were shut up in the mountain, was an old tradition which many of the ancient iahabitants had heard from their fathers. Numbers went up to the mountain of the Sun, or rather of St. Elena, in search of the cave mentioned by the soldier ; and saw and peeped into the deep dark pit, descending, no one knows how far, into the GOVERNOR MANCO AND THE SOLDIER. 187 mountaiii, and which remains there to this day, the fahled en- trance to the subterranean abode of BoabdU. By degrees, the soldier became popular with the common people. A freebooter of the mountains is by no means the op- probrious character in Spata that a robber is in any other coun- try ; on the contrary, he is a kind of chivalrous personage in the eyes of the lower classes. There is always a disposition, also, to cavil at the conduct of those in command, and many began to murmur at the high-handed measures of old Governor Manco, and to look upon the prisoner in the light of a martyr. The soldier, moreover, was a merry, waggish feUow, that had a joke for every one who came near his window, and a soft speech for every female. He had procured an old gui- tar also, and would sit by his window and sing ballads and love-ditties to the deUght of the wonaen of the neighbour- hood, who would assemble on the esplanade in the evenings, and dance boleros to his music. Having trimmed off his rough beard, his sunburnt face found favour in the eyes oi the fair, and the demure handmaid of the governor declared that his squint was perfectly irresistible. This kind-hearted damsel had, from the first, evinced a deep sympathy in his iortuncs, and having in vain tried to mollify the governor, had set to work privately to mitigate the rigour of his dis- pensations. Every day she brought the prisoner some crumbs of comfort which had faUen from the governor's table, or been abstracted from his larder, together with, now and then, a consoling bottle of choice Val de Penas, or rich Malaga. While this petty treason was going on in the very centre of the old governor's citadel, a storm of open war was brewing up among his external foes. The circumstance of a bag of gold and jewels having been found upon the person of the supposed robber, had been reported with many exaggerations in Gra- nada. A question of territorial jurisdiction was inunediately started by the governor's inveterate rival, the captain-general. He insisted that the prisoner had been captured without the pi-e- cincts of the Alhambra, and within the ndes of his authority. He demanded hie body, therefore, and the spoHa opima taken with him. Due information having been carried likewise by the friar to the grand Inquisitor, of the crosses, and the rosa- ries, and other reUques contained in the bag, he claimed the cul- prit, as having been guilty of sacrilege, and insisted that his plunder was due to the church, and his body to the next Auto da Fe. The feuds ran high; the governor was furious, and 188 TUE ALUAMDRA. swore, rather than surrender his captive, he woiild hang him up within the Alhambra, as a spy caught within the purUeus of the fortress. The captain-general threatened to send a body of soldiers to transfer the prisoner from the Vermilion towers to the city. The grand Inquisitor was equally bent upon despatching a niunber of the f amihars of the holy ofl3.ce. Word was brought late at night to the governor, of these machinations. "Let them come," said he, "they'll find me beforehand with them. He must rise bright and early who would take in an old sol- dier." He accordingly issued orders to have the prisoner re- moved at daybreak to the Donjon Keep within the walls of the Alhambra: "And d'ye hear, child," said he to his demure handmaid, "tap at my door, and wake me before cock-crow- ing, that Tniay see to the matter myself." The day dawned, the cock crowed, hut nobody tapped at the door of the governor. The sun rose high above the moimtain- tops, and glittered in at his casement ere the governor was awakened from his morning dreams by his veteran corporal, who stood before him with terror stamped upon his iron visage. ' ' He's off ! he's gone !" cried the corporal, gasping for breath. "Who's oif?— who's gone!" " The soldier — the robber — the devil, for aught I know. His dungeon is empty, but the door locked. No one knows how he has escaped out of it." " Who saw him last?" "Tour handmaid, — she brought him his supper." "Let her be called instantly." Here was new matter of confusion. The chamber of the demure damsel was likewise empty; her bed had not been slept in ; she had doubtless gone off with the culprit, as she had appeared, for some days past, to have frequent conversa- tions with him. This was wounding the old governor in a tender part, but he had scarce time to wince at it, when new misfortunes broke upon his view. On going into his cabinet, he found his strong box open, the leathern purse of the trooper extracted, and with it a couple of corpulent bags of doubloons. But how, and which way had the fugitives escaped? A peasant who lived in a cottage by the road-side leading up into the Sierra, declared that he had heard the tramp of a powerful steed, just before daybreak, passing up into the LEGEND OF TEE TWO DISCBEET STATUES. 189 mountains. He had looked out at his casement, and could just distinguish a horseman, with a female seated before him. "Search the stables," cried Governor Manco. The stables were searched; all the horses were in their stalls, excepting the Arabian steed. In his place was a stout cudgel tied to the manger, and on it a label bearing these words, ' ' A gift to Governor Manco, from an old soldier." LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCEEET STATUES. There lived once, in a waste apartment of the Alhambra, a merry Uttle feUow named Lope Sanchez, who worked in the gardens, and was as brisk and blithe as a grasshopper, singing aU day long. He was the life and soul of the fortress ; when his work was over, he would sit on one of the stone benches of the esplanade and strum his guitar, and sing long ditties about the Cid, and Bernardo del Carpio, and Fernando del Pulgar, and other Spanish heroes, for the amusement of the old sol- diers of the fortress, or would strike up a merrier tune, and set the girls dancing boleros and fandangos. Like most httle men. Lope Sanchez had a strapping buxom dame for a wife, who could almost have put him in her pocket ; but he lacked the usual poor man's lot, — instead of ten chil- dren he had but one. This was a httle black-eyed girl, about twelve years of age, named Sanchica, who was as merry as himself, and the dehght of his heart. She played about him as he worked in the gardens, danced to his guitar as he sat in the shade, and ran as wild as a young fawn about the groves, and alleys, and ruined halls of the Alhambra. It was now the eve of the blessed St. John, and the holyday- loving gossips of the Alhambra, men, women, and children, went up at night to the moimtain of the Sun, which rises above the GeneraUlie, to keep their midsmnmer vigil on its level summit. It was a bright moonlight night, and all the moimtains were gray and silvery, and the city, with its domes and spires, lay in shadows below, and the Vega was like a fairy land, with haunted streams gleaming among its dusky groves. On the highest part of the mountain thoy ht up a bale fire, according to an old custom of the coimtry handed down from the Moors. The inhabitants of the smToundiag IQQ THE ALllAMBllA. coLintry TTcre keeping a similar vigU, and bale fires here and , there in the Vega, and along the folds of the mountains, blazed up palely in the moonlight. The evening was gaily passed in dancing to the guitar of ■ Lope Sanchez, who was never so joyous as when on a hohday revel of the kind. While the dance was going on, the httle Sanchica with some of her playmates sported among the ruins of an old Moorish fort that crowns the mountain, when, in gathering pebbles in the fosse, she found a small hand, curi- ously carved of jet, the fingers closed, and the thumb firmly clasped upon them. Overjoyed with her good fortune, she ran to her mother with her prize. It immediately became a subject of sage speculation, and was eyed by some with super- stitious distrust. "Throw it away,'' said one, " it is Moorish, — depend upon it there's mischief and witchcraft in it." " By no means," said another, "you may sell it for something to the jewellers of the Zacatin. " In the midst of this discussion an old tawny soldier drew near, who had served in Africa, and was as swarthy as a Moor. He examined the hand with a knowing look. "I have seen things of this kind," said he, " among the Moors of Barbary. It is of great value to guard against the evil eye, and all kinds of spells and enchantments. I give you joy, friend Lope, this bodes good luck to your child." Upon hearing this, the wife of Lope Sanchez tied the little hand of jet to a riband, and hung it round the neck of her daughter. The sight of this talisman called up all the favourite super- stitions about the Moors. The dance was neglected, and they sat in groups on the ground, telling old legendary tales handed down from their ancestors. Some of their stories turned upon the wonders of the very mountain upon which they were seated, which is a famous hobgoblin region. One ancient crone gave a long account of the subterranean palace in the bowels of that mountain, where Boabdil and all his Moslem court are said to remain enchanted. "Among yonder ruins," said she, pointing to some crumbling walls and mounds of earth on a distant part of the mountain, " there is a deep black pit that goes down, down into the very heart of the moimtain. For aU the money in Granada, I would not look down into it. Once upon a time, a poor man of the Al- hambra, who tended goats upon this mountain, scrambled down into that pit after a kid that had fallen in. He came out LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCBEET STATUES. 191 again, all wild and staring, and told such tidngs of what he had seen, that every one thought his brain was turned. He raved for a day or two about hobgobUn Moors that had pur- sued him in the cavern, and could hardly be persuaded to drive his goats up again to the mountain. He did so at last, but, poor man, he never came down again. The neighbours found his goats browsing about the Moorish ruins, and his hat and mantle lying near the mouth of the pit, but he was never more heard of." The little Sanchica listened with breathless attention to this story. She was of a curious nature, and felt immediately a great hankering to peep into this dangerous pit. Stealing away from her companions, she sought the distant ruins, and after groping for some time among them, came to a small hollow or basin, near the brow of the mountain, where it swept steeply down into the valley of the Darro. In the centre of this basin yawned the mouth of the pit. Sanchica ventured to the verge and peeped in. AU was black as pitch, and gave an idea of immeasurable depth. ■ Her blood ran cold — she drew back — then peeped again — ^then wotdd have run away — then took another peep— the very horror of the thing was delightful to her. At length she rolled a large stone, and pushed it over the brink. For some time it feU in silence; then struck some rocky projection with a violent crash, then reboimded from side to side, rumbling and tumbling, with a noise, like thunder, then made a final splash into water, far, far below, and all was again silent. The silence, however, did not long continue. It seemed as if something had been awakened within this dreary abyss. A murmuring sound gradually rose out of the pit like the hum and buzz of a bee-hive. It grew louder and louder; there was the confusion of voices as of a distant multitude, together with the faint din of arms, clash of cymbals, and clangour of trum- pets, as if some army were marshalling for battle in the very bowels of the mountain. The child drew off with silent awe, and hastened back to the place where she had left her parents and their companions. All were gone. The bale fire was expiring, and its last wreath of smoke curling up in the moonshine. The distant fires that had blazed along the mountains and in the Vega were all ex- tinguished; every thing seemed to have sunk to repose. San- chica called her parents and some of her companions by name, but received no reply. She ran down the side of the mountain, 192 ^-^^ ALHA2IBBA. and by the gardens of the GeneralifiEe, until she arrived in the alley of trees leading to the Alhambra, where she seated herself on a bench of a woody recess to recover breath. The beU from the watch-tower of the Alhambra told midnight. There was a deep tranquillity, as if aU nature slept ; excepting the low tinkling sound of an unseen stream that ran under the covert of the bushes. The breathing sweetness of the atmosphere was lulling her to sleep, when her eye was caught by some- thing ghttering at a distance, and to her surprise, she beheld a long cavalcade of Moorish warriors pouring down the moun- tain side, and along the leafy avenues. Some were armed with lances and shields ; others with scimitars and battle-axes, and with polished cuirasses that flashed in the moon-beams. Their horses pranced proudly, and champed upon the bit. but their tramp caused no more sound than if they had been shod with felt, and the riders were all as pale as death. Among them rode a beautiful lady with a crowned head and long golden locks entwined with pearls. The housings of her palfrey were of crimson velvet embroidered with gold, and swept the earth ; but she rode all disconsolate, with eyes ever fixed upon the ground. Then succeeded a train of courtiers magnificently arrayed in robes and turbans of divers colours, and amidst these, on a cream-coloured charger, rode king Boabdil el Ohico, in a royal mantle covered with jewels, and a crown sparkling with diamonds. The Mttle Sanchica knew him by his yellow beard, and his resemblance to his portrait, which she had often seen in the picture gallery of the Generalise. She gazed in wonder and admiratisn at this royal pageant as it passed gUstening among the trees, but though she knew these monaxchs, and courtiers, and warriors, so pale and silent, were out of the common com-se of nature, and things of magic or enchant- ment, yet she looked on with a bold heart, such coirrage did she derive from the mystic talisman of the hand which was suspended about her neck. The cavalcade having passed by, she rose and followed. It continued on to the great gate of Justice, which stood wide open; the old invalid sentinels on duty, lay on the stone benches of the Barbican, buried in profoimd and apparently charmed sleep, and the phantom pageant swept noiselessly by them with flaunting banner and triumphant state. Sanchica would have followed, but, to her surprise, she beheld an open- ing in the earth within the Barbican, leading down beneath LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 193 the .foundations of the tower. She entered for a Mttle distance, and was encouraged to proceed by finding steps rudely hewn in the rock, and a vaulted passage here and there ht up by a silver lamp, which, while it gave hght, diffused likewise a grateful fragrance. Venturing on, she came at last to a great haJl wrought out of the heart of the mountain, magnificently furnished in the Moorish style, and Hghted up by silver and crystal lamps. Here on an ottoman sat an old man in Moorish dress, with a long white beard, nodding and dozing, with a staff in his hand, which seemed ever to he sHpping from his grasp ; while at a httle distance, sat a beautiful lady in ancient Spanish dress, with a coronet all sparkling with diamonds, and her hair entwined with pearls, who was softly playing on a silver lyre. The httle Sanchica now recollected a story she had heard among the old people of the Alhambra, concerning a Gothic princess confined in the centre of the mountain by an ■ old Arabian magician, whom she kept bound up in magic sleep by the power of music. The lady paused with surprise, at seeing a mortal in that enchanted hall. "Is it the eve of the blessed St. John?" said she. "It is," repMed Sanchica. " Then for one night the magic charm is suspended. Come hither, child, -and fear not, I am a Christian hke thyself, though bound here by enchantment. Touch my fetters with the talisman that hangs about thy neck, and for this night I shall be free." So saying, she opened her robes and displayed a broad golden band round her waist, and a golden chain that fastened her to the ground. The child hesitated not to apply the Mttle hand of jet to the golden band, and immediately the chain feU to the earth. At the sound the old man awoke, and began to rub his eyes, but the lady ran her fingers over the chords of the lyre, and again he fell into a slumber and began to nod, and his staff to falterin his hand. "Now," said the lady, " touch his staff with the talismanic hand of jet. " The child did so, and it fell from his grasp, and he sank in a deep sleep on the otto- man. The lady gently laid the silver lyre on the ottoman lean- ing it against the head of the sleeping magician, then touching the chords imtil they vibrated in his ear, "O potent spirit of harmony," said she, "continue thus to hold his senses in thraldom till the return of day." "Now follow me, my child," continued she, "and thou shalt behold the Alhambra as 194 THE ALHAMBRA. it was in the days of its glory, for thou hast a magic talisman that reveals aU enchantments." Sanchica followed the lady in silenee. They passed up through the entrance of the cavern into the Barbican of the gate of Justice, and thence to the Plaza de las Algibes, or esplanade within the fortress. This was all filled with Moorish soldiery, horse and foot, marshalled in squadrons, with banners displayed. There were royal guards also at the portal, and rows of African blacks with drawn scimitars. No one spoke a word, and Sanchica'passed on fearlessly after her conductor. Her astonishment increased on entering the royal palace, in which she had been reared. The broad moonshine lit up all the halls, and courts, and gardens, almost as brightly as if it were day ; but revealed a far difEerent scene from that to which she was accustomed. The walls of the apartments were no longer stained and rent by time. Instead of cobwebs, they were now hung with rich silks of Damascus, and the gildings and arabesque paintings w6re restored to their original brilliancy and freshness. The halls, instead of being naked and unfurnished, were set out with divans and ottomans of the rarest stuffs, embroidered with pearls, and studded with precious gems, and all the fovmtains in the courts and gardens were playing. The kitchens were again in fuU operation ; cooks were busied preparing shadowy dishes, and roasting and boiling the phan- toms of puUets and partridges ; servants were hurrying to and fro with silver dishes heaped up with dainties, and arranging a deUcious banquet. The Court of Lions was thronged with guards, and courtiers, and alfaquis, as in the old times of the Moors ; and at the upper end in the saloon of judgment, sat Boabdil on his throne, surrounded by his court, and swaying a shadowy sceptre for the night. Notwithstanding all this throng and seeming bustle, not a voice or footstep was to be heard ; nothing interrupted the mid- night silence but the plashing of the fountains. The little Sanchica followed her conductress in mute amazement about the palace, until they came to a portal opening to the vaulted passages beneath the great tower of Comaxes. On each side of the portal sat the figure of a nymph, wrought out of alabaster. Their heads were turned aside, and their regards fixed upon the same spot within the vault. The enchanted lady paused, and beckoned the child to her. " Here," said she, ""is a great se- cret, which I will reveal to ■^hee in reward for thy faith and courage. These discreet statues watch over a mighty treasure LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 195 hidden in old times by a Moorish king. Tell thy father to search the spot on which their eyes are fixed, and he wOl find what will make him richer than any man in. Granada. Thy innocent hands alone, however, gifted as thou art also with the taUsman, can remove the treasure. Bid thy father use it discreetly, and devote a part of it to the performance of daily masses for my deliverance from this unholy enchant- m.ent." When the lady had spoken these words, she led the chUd onward to the little garden of Lindaraxa, which is hard by the vault of the statues. The moon trembled upon the waters of the solitary f ountaiu in the centre of the gardan, and shed a tender light upon the orange and citron trees. The beautiful lady plucked a branch of myrtle and wreathed it round the head of the child. "Let this be a memento," said she, "of what I have revealed to thee, and a testimonial of its truth. My hour is come. — I must return to the enchanted hall ; foUow me not, lest evil befall thee ; farewell, remember what I have said, and have masses performed for my deliverance." So say- ing, the lady entered a dark passage leading beneath the tow- ers of Comares, and was no longer to be seen. The f aiint crowing of a cock was now heard from the cottages below the Alhambra, in the vaUey of the Darro, and a pale streak of Mghi; began to appear above the eastern mountains. A slight wind arose ; there was a sound like the rusthng of dry leaves through the courts and corridors, and door after door shut to with a jarring sound. Sanchica returned to the scenes she had so lately beheld thronged with the shadowy multitude, but Boabdil and his phantom court were gone. The moon shone into empty halls and galleries, stripped of their transient splendour, stained and dilapidated by time', and hung with cobwebs; the bat flitted about in the vmcertain light, and the frog croaked from the fish-pond. Sanchica now made the best of her way to a remote staircase that led up to the humble apartment occupied by her family. The door as usual was open, for Lope Sanchez was too poor to need bolt or bar: she crept quietly to her pallet, and, putting the myrtle wreath beneath her pillow, soon feU asleep. In the morning she related aU that had befallen her to her father. Lope Sanchez, however, treated the whole as a mere dream, and laughed at the child for her credulity. He went forth to his customary labours in the garden, but had not been there long when his little daughter came ruiming to him almost 196 THE ALRAMBEA. breathless. " Father 1 father !" cried she, "behold the myrtle wreath which the Moorish lady bound round my head." Lope Sanchez gazed with astonishment, for the stalk of the myrtle was of pure gold, and every leaf was a sparkling emer- ald ! Being not much accustomed to precious stones, he was ignorant of the real value of the wreath, but he saw enough to convince him that it was something more substantial than, the stuff that dreams are generally made of, and that at any rate the child had dreamt to some purpose. His first care was to enjoin the most absolute secrecy upon his daughter; in this respect, however, he was secure, for she had discretion far be- yond her years or sex. He then repaired to the vault where stood the statues of the two alabaster nymphs. He remarked that their heads were turned from the portal, and that the re- gards of each were fixed upon the same point in the interior of the building. Lope Sanchez could not but admire this most discreet contrivance for guarding a secret. He drew a line from the eyes of the statues to the point of regard, made a pri- vate mark on the wall, and then retired. All day, however, the mind of Lope Sanchez was distracted with a thousand cares. He coiild not help hovering within distant view of the two statues, and became nervous from the dread that the golden secret might be discovered. Every foot- step that approached the place, made binn tremble. He would have given any thing could he but turn the heads of the statues, forgetting that they had looked precisely in the same direction for some hundreds of years, without any person being the wiser. "A plague upon them," he would say to himself, "they'U betray all. Did ever mortal hear of such a mode of guarding a secret !" Then, on hearing any one advance, he would steal off, as though his very lurking near the place would awaken suspicions. Then he would return cautiously, and peep from a distance to see if every thing was secure, but the sight of the statues would again caU forth his indigna- tion. "Aye, there they stand," would he say, "always look- ing, and looking, and looking, just where they should not. Confound them ! they are just like all their sex ; if they have not tongues to tattle with, they'll be sure to do it ■with their eyes !" At length, to his rehef , the long anxious day drew to a close. The sound of footsteps was no longer heard in the echoing halls of the Alhambra ; the last stranger passed the threshold, the great portal was barred and bolted, and the bat, and the LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. I97 frog, and the hooting owl graxiually resumed their nightly vocations in the deserted palace. Lope Sanchez waited, however, until the night was far ad- vanced, before he ventured with his httle daughter to the hall of the two nymphs. He f oimd them looking as knowingly and mysteriously as ever, at the secret place of deposit. "By your leaves, gentle ladies," thought Lope Sanchez as he passed be- tween them, "I will reheve you from this charge that must have set so hea,vy in your minds for the last two or three cen- turies." He accordingly went to work at the part of the waU which he had marked, and in a Mttle while laid open a con- cealed recess, in which stood two great jars of porcelain. He attempted to draw them forth, but they were immovable until touched by the innocent hand of his Httle daughter. With her aid he dislodged them from their niche, and found to his great joy, that they were filled with pieces of Moorish gold, mingled with jewels and precious stones. Before dayhght he managed to convey them to his chamber, and left the two guardian statues with their eyes still fixed on the vacant wall. Lope Sanchez had thus on a sudden becraue a rich man, but riches, as usual, brought a world of cares, to which he had hitherto been a stranger. How was he to convey away his wealth with safety? How was he even to enter upon the en- joyment of it without awakening suspicion? Now too, for the first time in his Ufe, the dread of robbers entered into his mind. He looked with terror at the insecurity of his habitation, and went to work to barricade the doors and windows ; yet after all his precautions, he could not sleep soundly. His usual gaiety was at an end ; he had no longer a joke or a song for his neighbours, and, in short, became the most miserable animal in the Alhambra. His old comrades remarked this alteration; pitied him heartily, and began to desert him, thinking he must be falling into want, and in danger of look- ing to them for assistance ; little did they suspect that his only calamity was riches. The wife of Lope Sanchez shared his anxiety; but then she had ghostly comfort. We ought before this to have men- tioned, that Lope being rather a Ught, inconsiderate little man, his wife was accustomed, in all grave matters, to seek the counsel and ministry of her confessor, Fray Simon, a sturdy, broad-shoiildered, blue-bearded, bullet-headed friar of the neighbouring convent of San Francisco, who was, in fact, the sniritual comforter of half the good wives of the neighbour- 198 THE ALHAMBBA. hood. He was, moreover, in great esteem among divers sisterhoods of nuns, who requited him for his ghostly services by frequent presents of those httle dainties and nicknacks manufactured in convents, such as dehcate confections, sweet biscuits, and bottles of spiced cordials, found to be marvellous restoratives after fasts and vigils. Fray Simon thrived in the exercise of his functions. TTia oily skin gUstehed in the sunshine as he toiled up the hiU of the Alhambra on a sultry day. Yet notwithstanding his sleek condition, the knotted rope roiind his waist showed the au- sterity of his self -discipline ; the multitude dofEed their caps to him as a mirror of piety, and even the dogs scented the odoiu- of sanctity that exhaled from his garments, and howled from their kennels as he passed. Such was Fray Simon, the spiritual counsellor of the comely wife of Lope Sanchez, and as the father confessor is the domestic confidant of women in humble life in Spain, he was soon made acquainted, in great secrecy, with the story of the hidden treasure. The friar opened eyes and mouth, and crossed himself a dozen times at the news. After a moment's pause, " Daughter of my soul !" said he, " know that thy tusband has committed a double sin, a sin against both state and church ! The trea- sure he has thus seized upon for himself, being foimd in the royal domains, belongs of course to the crown ; but being in- fidel wealth, rescued, as it were, from the very fangs of Satan, should be devoted to the church. StiU, however, the matter may be accommodated. Bring hither the myrtle wreath." When the good father beheld it, his eyes twinkled more than ever, with admiration of the size and beauty of the emeralds. "This," said he, "being the first fruits of this discovery, should be dedicated to pious purposes. I wiU hang it up as a votive offering before the image of San Francisco in our chapel, and" will earnestly pray to him, this very night, that your husband be permitted to remain in quiet possession of your wealth." The good dame was delighted to make her peace with heaven at so cheap a rate, and the friar, putting the wreath under his mantle, departed with saintly steps towards his con- vent. When Lope Sanchez came home, his wife told him what had passed. He was excessively provoked, for he lacked his wife's devotion, and had for some time groaned iq secret at the LEGEND OF TEE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 199 domestic visitations of the friar. "Woman," said he, "what hast thou done ! Thou hast put every thing at hazard by thy tatthng." "What!" cried the good woman, "would you forbid my disburthening my conscience to my confessor?" " No, wife 1 confess as many of your own sins as you please ; but as to this money-digging, it is a sin of my own, and my conscience is very easy under the weight of it." There was no use, however, in complaining ; the secret was told, and, hke water spilled on the sand, was not again to be gathered. Their only chance was, that the friar would be dis- creet. The next day, while Lope Sanchez was abroad, there was an humble knocking at the door, and Fray Simon entered with meek and demure countenance. "Daughter," said he, "I have prayed earnestly to San Francisco, and he has heard my prayer. In the dead of the night the saint appeared to me in a dream, but with a frowning aspect. "Why," said he, "dost thou pray to me to dispense with this treasure of the Gentiles, when thou seest the pov- erty of my chapel? Go to the house of Lope Sanchez, crave ia my name a portion of the Moorish gold to furnish two candlesticks for the main altar, and let him possess the residue in peace.'" When the good woman heard of this vision, she crossed her- self with awe, and going to the secret place where Lope had hid the treasure, she fiUed a great leathern purse with pieces of Moorish gold, and gave it to the friar. The pious monk be- stowed upon her in return, benedictions enough, if paid by heaven, to enrich her race to the latest posterity ; then slip- ping the purse into the sleeve of his habit, he folded his hands upon his breast, and departed with an air of humble thankful- ness. When Lope Sanchez heard of this second donation to the church, he had well nigh lost his senses. " Unfortunate man," cried he, '■'what will become of me? I shall be robbed by piecemeal ; I shall be ruined and brought to beggary !" It was with the utmost difficulty that his wife could pacify him by reminding binn of the countless wealth that yet re- mained ; and how considerate it was for San Francisco to rest contented with so very small a portion. Unluckily, Fray Simon had a number of poor relations to be provided for, not to mention some half dozen sturdy, bullet- 200 '-^'^^^ ALEAMBRA. headed orphan children and destitute foundlings, that he had taken under his care. He repeated his visits, therefore, from day to day, -with salutations on behalf of Saint Dominick, Saint Andrew, Saint James, until poor Lope was driven to despair, and found that, unless he got out of the reach of this holy friar, he should have to make peace offerings to every saint in the kalendar. He determined, therefore, to pack up his remaining wealth, beat a secret retreat in the night, and make off to another part of the kingdom. FiiQ of his project, he bought a stout mule for the purpose, and tethered it in a gloomy vault, iindemeath the tower of the Seven Floors. The very place from whence the BeUado, or gobhn horse without a head, is said to issue forth at midnight and to scour the streets of Granada, pursued by a pack of hell- hounds. Lope Sanchez had Mttle faith in the story, but availed himself of the dread occasioned by it, knowing that no one would be hkely to pry into the subterranean stable of the phan- tom steed. He sent off his family in the course of the day, with orders to wait for him at a distant village of the Vega. As the night advanced, he conveyed his treasure to the vaiilt imder the tower, and having loaded his miile, he led it forth, and cautiously descended the dusky avenue. Honest Lope had taken his measures with the utmost secrecy, imparting them to no one but the faithful wife of his bosom. By some miraculous revelation, however, they became known to Fray Simon ; the zealous friar beheld these infidel treasures on the point of shpping for ever out of his grasp, and deter- mined to have one more dash at them for the benefit of the church and San Francisco. Accordingly, when the bells had rung for animas, and all the Alhambra "was quiet, he stole out of his convent, and, descending through the gate of Justice, concealed himself among the thickets of roses and lam-els that border the great avenue. Here he remained, counting the quarters of hours as they were sounded on the bell of the watch-tower, and listening to the dreary hootings of owls, and the distant barking of dogs from the gipsy cavems; At length, he heard the tramp of hoofs, and, through the gloom of the overshadowing trees, imperfectly beheld a steed descending the avenue. The stiu-dy friar chuckled at the idea of the knowing turn he was about to serve honest Lope. Tuck- ing up the skirts of his habit, and wriggMng like a cat watching a mouse, he waited until his prey was directly before him, when darting forth from his leafy covert, and putting one hand LEGEND OF THE TWO DISCREET STATUES. 201 on tlie shoulder, and the other on the cruppar, he made a vault that would not have disgraced the most experienced master of equitation, and alighted well forked astride the steed. "Aha I" said the sturdy friar, "we shall now see who best understands the game." He had scarce uttered the words, when the mule began to kick and rear and plunge, and then set ofiE at f uU speed down the hill. The friar attempted to check him, but in vain. He bounded from rock to rock, and bush to bush ; the friar's habit was torn to ribands, and fluttei-ed in the wind ; his shaven poU received many a hard knock from the branches of the trees, and many a scratch from the 'brambles. To add to his terror and- distress, he found a pack of se-ven hounds in full cry at his heels, and perceived, too late, that he was actually mounted upon the terrible Bellado ! Away they went, according to the ancient phrase, "puU devil, puU friar," down the great avenue, across the Plaza Nueva, along the Zacatin, around the Vivarambla, — ^never did huntsman and hound make a more furious run, or more infer- nal uproar. In vain did the friar invoke every saint in the kalendar, and the, holy virgin into the bargain ; every time he mentioned a name of the kind, it was hke a fresh application of the spur, and made the Bellado bound as high as a house. Through the remainder of the night was the unlucky Fray Simon carried hither and thither and whither he would not, until every bone in his body ached, and he snfiEered a loss of learther too grievous to be mentioned. At length, the crowing of a cock gave the signal of returning day. At the sound, the gobhn steed wheeled about, and galloped back for his tower. Again he scoured the Vivarambla, the Zacatin, the Plaza Nueva, and the avenue of fountains, the seven dogs yelling and barking, and leaping up, and snapping at the heels of the terrified friar. The first streak of day had just appeared as they reached the tower ; here the goblin steed kicked up his heels, sent the friar a somerset through the air, plunged into the dark vault followed by the infernal pack, and a profound silence succeeded to the late deafening clamour. Was ever so diabohcal a trick played off upon holy friar? A peasant going to his labours at early dawn, found the unfor- tunate Pray Simon lying under a fig-tree at the foot of the tower, but so bruised and bedeviled, that he could neither speak nor move. He was conveyed with all care emd tender- 202 THE ALHAMBRA. ness to his cell, and the story went that he had heen waylaid and maltreated by robbers. A day or two elapsed before he recovered the use of his limbs : he consoled himself in the mean time, with the thoughts that though the mule with the treasure had escaped him, he had previously had some rare pickings at the infidel spoils. His first care on being able to use his Umbs, was to search beneath his pallet, where he had secreted the myrtle wreath and the leathern pouches of gold; extracted from the piety of dame Sanchez. What was his dismay at finding the wreath, in efEect, but a withered branch of myrtle, and the leathern pouches filled with sand and gravel ! Fray Simon, with aU his chagrin, had the discretion to hold his tongue, for to betray the secret might draw on him the ridicule of the pubhc, and the punishment of his superior; it was not until many years afterwards, on his death-bed, that he revealed to his confessor his nocturnal ride on the Bellado. Nothing was heard of Lope Sanchez for a long time after his disappearance from the Alhambra. His memory was always cherished as that of a merry companion, though it was feared, from the care and melancholy showed in his conduct shortly before his mysterious departiore, that poverty and distress had driven him to some extremity. Some years afterwards, one of his old companions, an invalid soldier, being at Malaga, was knocked down and nearly run over by a coach and six. The carriage stopped; an old gentleman, magnificently dressed, with a bag-wig and sword, stepped out to assist the poor in- valid. What was the astonishment of the latter to behold in this grand cavalier, his old friend Lope Sanchez, who was actu- ally celebrating the marriage of his daughter Sanchica, with one of the first grandees in the land. The carriage contained the bridal party. There was dame Sanchez now grown as roimd as a barrel, and dressed out with feathers and jewels, and necklaces of pearls, and neckkices of dia.monds, and rings on every finger, and altogether a finery of apparel that had not been seen since the days of Queen Sheba. The Uttle Sanchica had now grown to be- a woman, and for grace and beauty might have been mistaken for a duchess, if not a princess outright. The bridegroom sat beside her, rather a withered, spiadle-shanked httle man, but this only proved him to be of the true blue blood, a legitimate Spanish grandee being rarely above three cubits in stature. The match had been of the mother's making. Eiches had not spoiled the heart of honest Lope. He kept MAHAMAD ABES ALAEMAB. . 203 his old comrade with bim for several days ; feasted him like a king, took him to plays and buJl-flghts, and at length sent him. away rejoicing, with a big bag of money for himself, and another to be distributed among his ancient messmates of the Alhambra. Lope always gave out that a rich brother had died in America, and left him heir to a copper mine, but the shrewd gossips of the Alhambra insist that his wealth was all derived from his having discovered the secret guarded by the two marble nymphs of the Alhambra. It is remarked, that these very discreet statues continue even tmto the present day with their eyes fixed most significantly on the same part of the wall, which leads many to suppose there is still some hidden treasure remaining there, well worthy the attention of the enterprising traveller. Though others, and particularly aU female visitors, regard them with great complacency, as last- ing monuments of the fact, that women can keep a secret. MAHAMAD ABEN ALAHMAR: THE FOUNDER OF THE ALHAMBRA. Having dealt so freely in the marvellous legends of the Alhambra, I feel as if boimd to give the reader a few facts concerning its sober history, or rathar the historj'^ of those magnificent princes, its founder and finisher, to whom Eu- rope is indebted for so beautiful and romantic an oriental monument. To attain these facts, I descended from this re- gion of fancy and fiction, where everything is liable to take an imaginative tint, and carried my researches among the dusty tomes of the old Jesuit's hbrary in the university. This once boasted repository of erudition is now a mere shadow of its former self, having been stripped of its manuscripts and rarest works by the French, while masters of Granada. Still it con- tains, among many ponderous tomes of polemics of the Jesuit fathers, several curious tracts of Spanish hterature, and above all, a number of those antiquated, dusty, parchment-bound chronicles, for which I have a peciiliar veneration. In this old hbrary I have passed many dehghtful hours of quiet, undisturbed, literary foraging, for the keys of the doors 204 ' THE ALHAMBRA. and bookcases were kindly entrusted to me, and I was left alone to rummage at my leisure — a rare iadulgence in those sanctuaries of learning, which too often tantalize the thirsty student with the sight of sealed fountains of knowledge. In the covirse of these visits I gleaned the following particu- lars concerning the historical characters in question. The Moors of Granada regarded the Alhambra as a miracle of art, and had a tra,dition that the kdng-^ho founded it dealt in magic, or at least was deeply versed in alchymy, by means of which, he procured the immense sums of gold expended in its erection. A brief view of his reign will show the real secret of his wealth. The name of this monarch, as inscribed on the walls of some of the apartments, was Aben Abd'aUah {i.e. the father of AbdaUah), but he is commonly known in Moorish history as Mahamad Aben Alahmar (or Mahamad son of Alahmar), or simply Aben Alahmar, for the sake of brevity. He was bom in Arjona, in the year of the Hegira, 591, of the Christian era, 1195, of the noble family of the Beni Nasar, or children of Nasar, and no expense was spsired by his parents to fit bJTn for the high station to which the opulence and dignity of his family entitled him. The Saracens of Spain were greatly advanced in civilization. Every principal city was a seat of learning and tfee arts, so that it was easy to com- mand the most enhghtened instructors for a youth of rank and f ortime. Aben Alahmar, when he arrived at manly years, was appointed Alcayde or governor of Arjona and Jaen, and gained great popularity by his benignity and justice. Some years afterwards, on the death of Aben Hud, the Moorish power of Spain was broken into factions, and many places declared for Mahamad Aben Alahmar. Being of a sanguine spirit and lofty ambition, he seized upon the occasion, made a cii-cuit through the country, and was every where received with acclamation. It was iu the year 1238 that he entered Granada amidst the enthusiastic shouts of the multitude. He was proclaimed king with every demonstration of joy, and soon became the head of the Moslems in Spain, being the first of the illustrious line of Beni Nasar that had sat upon the throne. His reign was such as to render him a blessing to his sub- jects. He gave the command of his various cities to such as had distinguished themselves by valour and prudence, and who seemed most acceptable to the people. He organized a MARAMAD ABEN ALAIIMAR. 205 vigilant police, and established rigid rules for the administra- tion of justice. The poor and the distressed always found ready admission to his presence, and he attended pereonaUy to their assistance and redress. He erected hospitals for tne bhnd, the aged, and infirm, and all those incapable of labour, and visited them frequently, not on set days, with pomp and form, so as to give time for every thing to be put in order and every abuse concealed, but suddenly and unexpectedly, in- forming himself by actual observation and close inquiry of the treatment of the sick, and the conduct of those appointed to administer to their rehef . He foimded schools and colleges, which he visited in the same manner, inspecting personally the instruction of the youth. He established butcheries and pubhc ovens, that the people might be furnished with wholesome provisions at just and regular prices. He introduced abimdant streams of water into the city, erecting baths and fountains, and constructing aqueducts and canals to irrigate and fertilize the Vega. By these means, prosperity and abundance prevailed in this beau- tiful city, its gates were thronged with commerce, and its warehouses filled with the luxuries and merchandize of every clime and country. While Mahamad Aben Alahmar was ruling his fair domains thus wisely and prosperously, he was suddenly menaced by the horrors of war. The Christians at that time, profiting by the dismemberment of the Moslem power, were rapidly regaining their ancient territories. James the Conqueror had subjected all Valentia, and Ferdinand the Saint was carrying his victorious armies into Andalusia. The latter invested the city of Jaen, and swore not to raise his camp until he had gained possession of the place. Mahamad Aben Alahmar was conscious of the insufficiency of his means to carry on a war with the potent sovereign of Castile. Taking a sudden resolu- tion, therefore, he repaired privately to the Christian camp, and made his unexpected appearance in the presence of king Ferdinand. "In me," said he, "you behold Mahamad, king of G-ranada. I confide in your good faith, and put myself imder your protection. Take all I possess, and receive me as your vassal." So saying, he knelt and kissed the king's hand in token of submission. King Ferdinand was touched by this instance of confiding faith, and determined not to be oiitdone in generosity. He raised his late rival from the earth and embraced him as a 206 THE ALHAMBRA. friend, nor would he accept the wealth he offered, but received him as a vassal, leaving him sovereign of his dominions, on condition of paying a yearly tribute, attending the cortes as one of the nobles of the empire, and serving him in war with a certain nmnber of horsemen. It was not long after ■this that Mahamad was called upon for his military services, to aid king Ferdinand in his famous siege of Seville. The Moorish king sallied forth with five hundred chosen horsemen of Granada, than whom none in the world knew better how to manage the steed or wield the lance. It was a melancholy and humiliating service, however, for they had to draw the sword against their brethren of the faith. Mahamad gained a melancholy distinction by his prowess in this renowned conquest, but more true honour by the humanity which he prevailed upon Ferdinand to introduce into the usages of war. When in 1248, the famous city of Seville surrendered to the CastUian monarch, Mahamad returned sad and fuU of care to his dominions. He saw the gathering ills that menaced the Moslem cause, and uttered an ejaculation often used by him in moments of anxiety and trouble: "How straitened and wretched would be our li£e, if our hope were not so spacious and extensive." * When the melancholy conqueror approached his beloved Granada, the people thronged forth to see him with impatient joy, for they loved him as a benefactor. They had erected arches of triumph in honour of his martial exploits, and wher- ever he passed he was hailed with acclamations, as El Galib, or the conqueror; Mahamad shook his head when he heard the appellation, "Wa le Galib iU Aid,'''' exclaimed he: (there is no conqueror but God 1) From that time forward, he adopted this exclamation as a motto. He inscribed it on an oblique band across his escutcheon, and it continued to be the motto of his descendants. Mahamad had piu-chased peace by submission to the Chris- tian yoke, but he knew that where the elements were so dis- cordant, and the motives for hostility so deep and ancient, it could not be secure or permanent. Acting therefore upon an old maxim, " arm. thyself in peace, and clothe thyself in smn- mer," he improved the present interval of tranquillity by for- tifying his dominions and replenishing his arsenals, and by * " Que angoste y miserabile seria nuestra vida, sino fueratan dllatada 7 espaciosa nuestra esperanzal" MAHAMAD ABEN ALAHMAR. 207 promoting those lisefvil arts which give wealth and real power to an empire. He gave premiums and privileges to the best artisans; improved the breed of horses and other domestic animals; encouraged husbandry; and increased the natural fertility of the soil twofold by his protection, making the lonely valleys of his kingdom to bloom hke gardens. He fostered also the growth and fabrication of silk, until the looms of Granada . surpassed even those of Syria in the fineness and beauty of their productions. He, moreover, caused the mines of gold and silver, and other metals found in the mountainous regions of his dominions, to be diligently worked, and was the first king of Granada who struck money of gold and silver with his name, taking great care that the coins should be skillfully exe- cuted. It was about this time, towards the middle of the thirteenth century, and just after his return from the siege of Seville, that he commenced the splendid palace of the Alhambra: superintending the building of it in person, mingling frequently among the artists and workmen, and directing their labours. Though thus magnificent in his works, and great in his enter- prises, he was simple in his person, and moderate in his enjoy- ments. His dress was not merely void of splendour, but so plain as not to distinguish him from his subjects. His harem boasted but few beauties, and these he visited but seldom, though they were entertained with great magnificence. His wives were daughters of the principal nobles, and were treated by him as friends and rational companions ; what is more, he managed to make them live as friends with one another. He passed much of his time in his gardens ; especially in those of the Alhambra, which he had stored with the rarest plants, and the most beautifiil and aromatic fiowers. Here he delighted himself in reading histories, or in causing them to be read and related to him ; and sometimes, in intervals of leisure, employed himself iivthe instruction of his three sons, for whom he had provided the most learned and virtuous masters. As he had frankly and voluntarily offered himself a tributary vassal to Ferdinand, so he always remained loyal to his word, giving biTTi repeated proofs of fidelity and attachment. When that renowned monarch died in Seville,' in 1254, Mahamad Aben Alahmar sent ambassadors to condole with his successor, Alonzo X., and with them a gallant train of a hundred Moorish cavaliers of distinguished rank, who were to attend, each bear- ing a lighted taper round the royal bier, during the funeral 208 TEE ALHAMBRA. ceremonies. This grand testimonial of respect was repeated by the Moslem monarch during the remainder of his hf e, on each anniversary of the death of King Fernando el Santo, when the hundred Moorish knights repaired from Granada to Seville, and took their stations with Ughted tapers in the centre of the sumptuous cathedral round the cenotaph of the illustrious de- ceased. Mahamad Aben Alahma,r retained his faculties and vigour to an advanced age. In his seventy-ninth year he took the field on horseback, accompanied by the flower of his chivalry, to resist an invasion of his territories. As the army saUied forth from Granada, one of the principal adalides or guides, who rode in the advance, accidentally broke his lance against the arch of the gate. The counsellors of the king, alarmed by this circmnstance, which was considered an evil omen, en- treated him to retiu^. Their supphcations were in vain. The king persisted, and at noon-tide the omen, say the Moorish chroniclers, was fatally fulfilled. Mahamad was suddenly struck with iUness, and had nearly fallen from his horse. He was placed on a fitter, and borne back towards Granada, but bis illness increased to such a degree, that they were obfiged to pitch his tent in the Vega. His physicians were filled with consternation, not knowing what remedy to prescribe. In a few hours he died vomiting blood, and in violent convulsions. The CastQian prince, Don Philip, brother of Alonzo X., was by his side when he expired. His body was embalmed, enclosed in a silver coffin, and buried in the Alhambra, in a sepulchre of precious -marble, amidst the unfeigned lamentations of his subjects, who bewaUed him as a parent. Such was the enlightened patriot prince, who founded the Alhambra, whose name remains emblazoned among its most deUcate and graceful ornaments, and whose memory is calcu- lated to inspire the loftiest associations in those who tread these fading scenes of his magnificence and glory. Though his un- dertakings were vast, and his expenditures immense, yet his tresisury was always full ; and this seeming contradiction gave rise to the story that he was versed in mag^c art and possessed of the secret for transmuting baser metals into gold. Those who have attended to his domestic policy, as here set forth, will easily understand the natural magic and simple alchymy which made his ample treasury to overflow. JUSEF ABUL EAGIA8. 209 JUSEF ABUL HAGIAS: THE FENISHEB OF THE ALHAMBEA. Bekeath the governor's apartment in the Alhamhra is the royal Mosque, where the Moorish monarchs performed their private devotions. Though consecrated as a Cathohc chapel, it still bears traces of its Moslem origin ; the Saracenic columns with their gilded capitals, and the latticed gallery for the females of the harenj^, may yet be seen, and the escutcheons of the Moorish kings are mingled on the walls with those of the Castilian sovereigns. In this consecrated place perished the illustrious Jusef Abul Hagias, the high-minded prince who completed the Alhambra, and who, for his virtues and endowments, deserves almost equal renown with its magnanimous founder. It is with pleas- ure I draw forth from the obscurity in which it has too long remained, the name of another of those princes of a departed and almost forgotten race, who reigned in elegance and splen- dour in Andalusia, when all Europe was in comparative bar- barism. Jusef Abul Hagias (or, as it is sometimes written, Haxis) ascended the throne of Granada in the year 1333, and his per- sonal appearance and mental qualities were such as to win all hearts, and to awaken anticipations of a beneficent and pros- perous reign. He was of a noble presence and great bodily strength, united to manly beauty. His complexion was ex- ceeding fair, and, according to the Arabian chroniclers, he heightened the gravity and ma.iesty of his appearance by suf- fering his beard to grow to a dignified length, and dyeing it black. He had an excellent memory, well stored with science and erudition; he was of a lively genius, and accounted the best poet of his time, and his manners were gentle, affable, and urbane. Jusef possessed the courage common to all generous spirits, but his genius was more calculated for peace than war, and, though obhged to take up arms repeatedly in his time, he was generally unfortunate. He carried the benignity of his nature into warfare, prohibiting all wanton cruelty, and enjoining mercy and protection towards women and children, the aged 210. THE ALnAMBRA. and infirm, and all friars and persons of holy and recluse life. Among other iU-starred enterprises, he undertook a great cam- paign in conjunction with the king of Morocco, against the kings of Castile and Portugal, hut was defeated in the memor- able battle of Salado ; a disastrous reverse which had nearly- proved a death blow to the Moslem power in Spain. Jusef obtained a long truce after this defeat, during which time he devoted himself to the instruction of his people and the improvement of their morals and manners. For this purpose he estabUshed schools in all the villages, with simple and uni- form systems of education ; he obliged every hamlet of more than twelve houses to have a Mosque, and prohibited various abuses and indecorums, that had been introduced into the cere- monies of rehgion, and the festivals and pubHc amusements of the people. He attended vigilantly to the police of the city, establishing nocturnal guards and patrols, and superintending all nnmicipal concerns. His attention was also directed towards finishing the great architectural works commenced by his predecessors, and erect- ing others on his own plans. The Alhambra, which had been founded by the good Aben Alahmar, was now completed. Jusef constructed the beautiful gate of Justice, forming the grand enti-ance to the fortress, which he finished in 1348. Ha likewise adorned many of the courts and halls of the palace, as maybe seen by the inscriptions on the walls, in which his name repeatedly occurs. He built also the noble Alcazar, or citadel of Malaga ; now unfortunately a mere mass of crumbhng ruins, but which probably exhibited in its interior similar elegance and magnificence with the Alhambra. The genius of a sovereign stamps a character upon his time. The nobles of Granada, imitating the elegant and graceful taste of Jusef, soon filled the city of Granada with magnificent pal- aces ; the halls of which were paved in Mosaic, the walls and ceilings wrought in fret-work, and deUcately gilded and painted with azure, vermiMon, and other brilliant colours, or minutely inlaid with cedar and other precious woods ; specimens of which have survived in all their lustre the lapse of several centuries. Many of the houses had fountains, which threw up jets of water to refresh and cool the air. They had lofty towers also, of wood or stone, curiously carved and ornamented, and cov- ered with plates of metal that ghttered in the son. Such was the refined and dehcate taste in architocture that prevailed among this elegant people ; insomuch, that to use the beautiful JUSEF ABUL HAGIAS. 211 simile of an Arabian writer, "Granada, in the days of Jusef, was as a silver vase filled with emeralds and jacinths." One anecdote will be suflBcient to show the magnanimity of this generous prince. The long truce which had succeeded the battle of Salado was at aji end, and every effort of Jusef to renew it was in vain. His deadly foe, Alfonso XI. of Castile, took the field with great force, and laid siege to Gibraltar. Jusef reluctantly took up arms, and sent troops to the reUef of the place ; when, in the midst of his anxiety, he received tidings that his dreaded foe had suddenly fallen a victim to the plague. Instead of manifesting exultation on the occasion, Jusef called to mind the great qualities of the deceased, and was touched with a noble sorrow. "Alas I" cried he, "the world has lost one of its most excellent princes ; a sovereign who knew how to honour meiit, whether in friend or foe 1" The Spanish chroniclers themselves bear witness to this mag- nanimity. According to their accounts, the Moorish cavaliers partook of the sentiment of their king, and put on mourning for the death of Alfonso. Even those of Gibraltar, who had been so closely invested, when they knew that the hostile mon- arch lay dead in his camp, determined among themselves that no hostile movement should be made against the Christians. The day on which the camp was broken up, and the army departed, bearing the corpse of Alfonso, the Moors issued in multitudes from Gibraltar, and stood mute and melancholy, watching the mournful pageant. The same reverence for the deceased was observed by all the Moorish commanders on the frontiers, who suffered the funeral train to pass in safety, bearing the corpse of the Christian sovereign from Gibraltar to Seville.* Jusef did not long survive the enemy he had so generously deplored. In the year 1354, as he was one day praying in the royal mosque of the Alhambra, a maniac rushed suddenly from behind, and plunged a dagger in his side. The cries of the king brought his guards and courtiers to his assistance. They found him weltering in his blood, and in conwdsions. He was borne to the royal apartments, but expired almost im- * " T los Moros que estaban en la villa y Castillo de Gibraltar despues que aopieron que el Rey Don Alonzo era muerto, ordenaron entresi que ninguno non fuesse osado de fazer niugun movimiento contra los Christianos, nin mover pelearcontra ellos, estovieron todos quedos y dezian entre ellos que aquel dia muriera un noble rey y gran principe del mundo 1" 212 THE ALHAMBEA. mediately. The murderer was cut to pieces, and his limbs burnt in public, to gratify the fury of the populace. The body of the king was interred in a superb sepulchre of white marble ; a long epitaph in letters of gold upon an azure ground recorded his virtues. " Here lies a king and martyr of an illustrious hne, gentle, learned and virtuous ; renowned for the graces of his person and his manners; whose clemency, piety and benevolence were extolled throughout the kingdom of Granada. He was a great prince, an illustrious captain ; a sharp sword of the Moslems ; a valiant standard-bearer among the most potent monarchs," etc. The mosque stiU remains, which once resounded with the dying cries of Jusef , but the monument which recorded his virtues has long since disappeared. His name, however, re- mains inscribed among the ornaments of the Alhambra, and will be perpetuated in connection with this renowned pUe, which it was his pride and deUght to beautify. t hh: end.