Chapter CXIII: Part 113

In reading Irving's letters written during his third visit abroad, you are conscious that the glamour of life is gone for him, though not his kindliness towards the world, and that he is subject to few illusions; the show and pageantry no longer enchant,--they only weary. The novelty was gone, and he was no longer curious to see great sights and great people. He had declined a public dinner in New York, and he put aside the same hospitality offered by Liverpool and by Glasgow. In London he attended the Queen's grand fancy ball, which surpassed anything he had seen in splendor and picturesque effect. "The personage," he writes, "who appeared least to enjoy the scene seemed to me to be the little Queen herself. She was flushed and heated, and evidently fatigued and oppressed with the state she had to keep up and the regal robes in which she was arrayed, and especially by a crown of gold, which weighed heavy on her brow, and to which she was continually raising her hand to move it slightly when it pressed. I hope and trust her real crown sits easier." The bearing of Prince Albert he found prepossessing, and he adds, "He speaks English very well;" as if that were a useful accomplishment for an English Prince Consort. His reception at court and by the ministers and diplomatic corps was very kind, and he greatly enjoyed meeting his old friends, Leslie, Rogers, and Moore. At Paris, in an informal presentation to the royal family, he experienced a very cordial welcome from the King and Queen and Madame Adelaide, each of whom took occasion to say something complimentary about his writings; but he escaped as soon as possible from social engagements. "Amidst all the splendors of London and Paris, I find my imagination refuses to take fire, and my heart still yearns after dear little Sunnyside." Of an anxious friend in Paris, who thought Irving was ruining his prospects by neglecting to leave his card with this or that duchess who had sought his acquaintance, he writes: "He attributes all this to very excessive modesty, not dreaming that the empty intercourse of saloons with people of rank and fashion could be a bore to one who has run the rounds of society for the greater part of half a century, and who likes to consult his own humor and pursuits."

When Irving reached Madrid, the affairs of the kingdom had assumed a powerful dramatic interest, wanting in none of the romantic elements that characterize the whole history of the peninsula. "The future career [he writes of this gallant soldier, Espartero, whose merits and services have placed him at the head of the government, and the future fortunes of these isolated little princesses, the Queen and her sister], have an uncertainty hanging about them worthy of the fifth act in a melodrama." The drama continued, with constant shifting of scene, as long as Irving remained in Spain, and gave to his diplomatic life intense interest, and at times perilous excitement. His letters are full of animated pictures of the changing progress of the play; and although they belong rather to the gossip of history than to literary biography, they cannot be altogether omitted. The duties which the minister had to perform were unusual, delicate, and difficult; but I believe he acquitted himself of them with the skill of a born diplomatist. When he went to Spain before, in 1826, Ferdinand VII. was, by aid of French troops, on the throne, the liberties of the kingdom were crushed, and her most enlightened men were in exile. While he still resided there, in 1829, Ferdinand married, for his fourth wife, Maria Christina, sister of the King of Naples, and niece of the Queen of Louis Philippe. By her he had two daughters, his only children. In order that his own progeny might succeed him, he set aside the Salique law (which had been imposed by France) just before his death, in 1833, and revived the old Spanish law of succession. His eldest daughter, then three years old, was proclaimed Queen by the name of Isabella II, and her mother guardian during her minority, which would end at the age of fourteen. Don Carlos, the king's eldest brother, immediately set up the standard of rebellion, supported by the absolutist aristocracy, the monks, and a great part of the clergy. The liberals rallied to the Queen. The Queen Regent did not, however, act in good faith with the popular party she resisted all salutary reform, would not restore the Constitution of 1812 until compelled to by a popular uprising, and disgraced herself by a scandalous connection with one Munos, one of the royal bodyguards. She enriched this favorite and amassed a vast fortune for herself, which she sent out of the country. In 1839, when Don Carlos was driven out of the country by the patriot soldier Espartero, she endeavored to gain him over to her side, but failed. Espartero became Regent, and Maria Christina repaired to Paris, where she was received with great distinction by Louis Philippe, and Paris became the focus of all sorts of machinations against the constitutional government of Spain, and of plots for its overthrow. One of these had just been defeated at the time of Irving's arrival. It was a desperate attempt of a band of soldiers of the rebel army to carry off the little Queen and her sister, which was frustrated only by the gallant resistance of the halberdiers in the palace. The little princesses had scarcely recovered from the horror of this night attack when our minister presented his credentials to the Queen through the Regent, thus breaking a diplomatic deadlock, in which he was followed by all the other embassies except the French. I take some passages from the author's description of his first audience at the royal palace:

"We passed through the spacious court, up the noble staircase, and through the long suites of apartments of this splendid edifice, most of them silent and vacant, the casements closed to keep out the heat, so that a twilight reigned throughout the mighty pile, not a little emblematical of the dubious fortunes of its inmates. It seemed more like traversing a convent than a palace. I ought to have mentioned that in ascending the grand staircase we found the portal at the head of it, opening into the royal suite of apartments, still bearing the marks of the midnight attack upon the palace in October last, when an attempt was made to get possession of the persons of the little Queen and her sister, to carry them off . . . . The marble casements of the doors had been shattered in several places, and the double doors themselves pierced all over with bullet holes, from the musketry that played upon them from the staircase during that eventful night. What must have been the feelings of those poor children, on listening, from their apartment, to the horrid tumult, the outcries of a furious multitude, and the reports of firearms echoing and reverberating through the vaulted halls and spacious courts of this immense edifice, and dubious whether their own lives were not the object of the assault!

"After passing through various chambers of the palace, now silent and sombre, but which I had traversed in former days, on grand court occasions in the time of Ferdinand VII, when they were glittering with all the splendor of a court, we paused in a great saloon, with high-vaulted ceiling incrusted with florid devices in porcelain, and hung with silken tapestry, but all in dim twilight, like the rest of the palace. At one end of the saloon the door opened to an almost interminable range of other chambers, through which, at a distance, we had a glimpse of some indistinct figures in black. They glided into the saloon slowly, and with noiseless steps. It was the little Queen, with her governess, Madame Mina, widow of the general of that name, and her guardian, the excellent Arguelles, all in deep mourning for the Duke of Orleans. The little Queen advanced some steps within the saloon and then paused. Madame Mina took her station a little distance behind her. The Count Almodovar then introduced me to the Queen in my official capacity, and she received me with a grave and quiet welcome, expressed in a very low voice. She is nearly twelve years of age, and is sufficiently well grown for her years. She had a somewhat fair complexion, quite pale, with bluish or light gray eyes; a grave demeanor, but a graceful deportment. I could not but regard her with deep interest, knowing what important concerns depended upon the life of this fragile little being, and to what a stormy and precarious career she might be destined. Her solitary position, also, separated from all her kindred except her little sister, a mere effigy of royalty in the hands of statesmen, and surrounded by the formalities and ceremonials of state, which spread sterility around the occupant of a throne."

I have quoted this passage, not more on account of its intrinsic interest, than as a specimen of the author's consummate art of conveying an impression by what I may call the tone of his style; and this appears in all his correspondence relating to this picturesque and eventful period. During the four years of his residence the country was in a constant state of excitement and often of panic. Armies were marching over the kingdom. Madrid was in a state of siege, expecting an assault at one time; confusion reigned amid the changing adherents about the person of the child-queen. The duties of a minister were perplexing enough, when the Spanish government was changing its character and its personnel with the rapidity of shifting scenes in a pantomime. "This consumption of ministers," wrote Irving to Mr. Webster, "is appalling. To carry on a negotiation with such transient functionaries is like bargaining at the window of a railroad-car: before you can get a reply to a proposition the other party is out of sight."

Apart from politics, Irving's residence was full of half-melancholy recollections and associations. In a letter to his old comrade, Prince Polgorouki, then Russian Minister at Naples, he recalls the days of their delightful intercourse at the D'Oubrils':

"Time dispels charms and illusions. You remember how much I was
struck with a beautiful young woman (I will not mention names) who
appeared in a tableau as Murillo's Virgin of the Assumption? She
was young, recently married, fresh and unhackneyed in society, and
my imagination decked her out with everything that was pure, lovely,
innocent, and angelic in womanhood. She was pointed out to me in
the theatre shortly after my arrival in Madrid. I turned with
eagerness to the original of the picture that had ever remained hung
up in sanctity in my mind. I found her still handsome, though
somewhat matronly in appearance, seated, with her daughters, in the
box of a fashionable nobleman, younger than herself, rich in purse
but poor in intellect, and who was openly and notoriously her
cavalier servante. The charm was broken, the picture fell from the
wall. She may have the customs of a depraved country and licentious
state of society to excuse her; but I can never think of her again
in the halo of feminine purity and loveliness that surrounded the
Virgin of Murillo."

During Irving's ministry he was twice absent, briefly in Paris and London, and was called to the latter place for consultation in regard to the Oregon boundary dispute, in the settlement of which he rendered valuable service. Space is not given me for further quotations from Irving's brilliant descriptions of court, characters, and society in that revolutionary time, nor of his half-melancholy pilgrimage to the southern scenes of his former reveries. But I will take a page from a letter to his sister, Mrs. Paris, describing his voyage from Barcelona to Marseilles, which exhibits the lively susceptibility of the author and diplomat who was then in his sixty-first year:

"While I am writing at a table in the cabin, I am sensible of the
power of a pair of splendid Spanish eyes which are occasionally
flashing upon me, and which almost seem to throw a light upon the
paper. Since I cannot break the spell, I will describe the owner of
them. She is a young married lady, about four or five and twenty,
middle sized, finely modeled, a Grecian outline of face, a
complexion sallow yet healthful, raven black hair, eyes dark, large,
and beaming, softened by long eyelashes, lips full and rosy red, yet
finely chiseled, and teeth of dazzling whiteness. She is dressed in
black, as if in mourning; on one hand is a black glove; the other
hand, ungloved, is small, exquisitely formed, with taper fingers and
blue veins. She has just put it up to adjust her clustering black
locks. I never saw female hand more exquisite. Really, if I were a
young man, I should not be able to draw the portrait of this
beautiful creature so calmly.

"I was interrupted in my letter writing, by an observation of the
lady whom I was describing. She had caught my eye occasionally, as
it glanced from my letter toward her. 'Really, Senor,' said she, at
length, with a smile, I one would think you were a painter taking my
likeness.' I could not resist the impulse. 'Indeed,' said I, 'I am
taking it; I am writing to a friend the other side of the world,
discussing things that are passing before me, and I could not help
noting down one of the best specimens of the country that I had met
with: A little bantering took place between the young lady, her
husband, and myself, which ended in my reading off, as well as I
could into Spanish, the description I had just written down.
It occasioned a world of merriment, and was taken in excellent part.
The lady's cheek, for once, mantled with the rose. She laughed,
shook her head, and said I was a very fanciful portrait painter;
and the husband declared that, if I would stop at St. Filian, all
the ladies in the place would crowd to have their portraits taken,
--my pictures were so flattering. I have just parted with them. The
steamship stopped in the open sea, just in front of the little bay
of St. Filian; boats came off from shore for the party. I helped
the beautiful original of the portrait into the boat, and promised
her and her husband if ever I should come to St. Filian I would pay
them a visit. The last I noticed of her was a Spanish farewell wave
of her beautiful white hand, and the gleam of her dazzling teeth as
she smiled adieu. So there 's a very tolerable touch of romance for
a gentleman of my years."

When Irving announced his recall from the court of Madrid, the young Queen said to him in reply: "You may take with you into private life the intimate conviction that your frank and loyal conduct has contributed to draw closer the amicable relations which exist between North America and the Spanish nation, and that your distinguished personal merits have gained in my heart the appreciation which you merit by more than one title." The author was anxious to return. From the midst of court life in April, 1845, he had written: "I long to be once more back at dear little Sunnyside, while I have yet strength and good spirits to enjoy the simple pleasures of the country, and to rally a happy family group once more about me. I grudge every year of absence that rolls by. To-morrow is my birthday. I shall then be sixty-two years old. The evening of life is fast drawing over me; still I hope to get back among my friends while there is a little sunshine left."

It was the 19th of September, 1846, says his biographer, "when the impatient longing of his heart was gratified, and he found himself restored to his home for the thirteen years of happy life still remaining to him."

IX

THE CHARACTERISTIC WORKS

The "Knickerbocker's History of New York" and the "Sketch-Book" never would have won for Irving the gold medal of the Royal Society of Literature, or the degree of D. C. L. from Oxford.

However much the world would have liked frankly to honor the writer for that which it most enjoyed and was under most obligations for, it would have been a violent shock to the constitution of things to have given such honor to the mere humorist and the writer of short sketches. The conventional literary proprieties must be observed. Only some laborious, solid, and improving work of the pen could sanction such distinction,--a book of research or an historical composition. It need not necessarily be dull, but it must be grave in tone and serious in intention, in order to give the author high recognition.

Irving himself shared this opinion. He hoped, in the composition of his "Columbus" and his "Washington," to produce works which should justify the good opinion his countrymen had formed of him, should reasonably satisfy the expectations excited by his lighter books, and should lay for him the basis of enduring reputation. All that he had done before was the play of careless genius, the exercise of frolicsome fancy, which might amuse and perhaps win an affectionate regard for the author, but could not justify a high respect or secure a permanent place in literature. For this, some work of scholarship and industry was needed.

And yet everybody would probably have admitted that there was but one man then living who could have created and peopled the vast and humorous world of the Knickerbockers; that all the learning of Oxford and Cambridge together would not enable a man to draw the whimsical portrait of Ichabod Crane, or to outline the fascinating legend of Rip Van Winkle; while Europe was full of scholars of more learning than Irving, and writers of equal skill in narrative, who might have told the story of Columbus as well as he told it and perhaps better. The under-graduates of Oxford who hooted their admiration of the shy author when he appeared in the theater to receive his complimentary degree perhaps understood this, and expressed it in their shouts of "Diedrich Knickerbocker," "Ichabod Crane," "Rip Van Winkle."

Irving's "gift" was humor; and allied to this was sentiment. These qualities modified and restrained each other; and it was by these that he touched the heart. He acquired other powers which he himself may have valued more highly, and which brought him more substantial honors; but the historical compositions, which he and his contemporaries regarded as a solid basis of fame, could be spared without serious loss, while the works of humor, the first fruits of his genius, are possessions in English literature the loss of which would be irreparable. The world may never openly allow to humor a position "above the salt," but it clings to its fresh and original productions, generation after generation, finding room for them in its accumulating literary baggage, while more "important" tomes of scholarship and industry strew the line of its march.

I feel that this study of Irving as a man of letters would be incomplete, especially for the young readers of this generation, if it did not contain some more extended citations from those works upon which we have formed our estimate of his quality. We will take first a few passages from the--"History of New York".

It has been said that Irving lacked imagination. That, while he had humor and feeling and fancy, he was wanting in the higher quality, which is the last test of genius. We have come to attach to the word "imagination" a larger meaning than the mere reproduction in the mind of certain absent objects of sense that have been perceived; there must be a suggestion of something beyond these, and an ennobling suggestion, if not a combination, that amounts to a new creation. Now, it seems to me that the transmutation of the crude and heretofore unpoetical materials which he found in the New World into what is as absolute a creation as exists in literature, was a distinct work of the imagination. Its humorous quality does not interfere with its largeness of outline, nor with its essential poetic coloring. For, whimsical and comical as is the Knickerbocker creation, it is enlarged to the proportion of a realm, and over that new country of the imagination is always the rosy light of sentiment.

This largeness of modified conception cannot be made apparent in such brief extracts as we can make, but they will show its quality and the author's humor. The Low-Dutch settlers of the Nieuw Nederlandts are supposed to have sailed from Amsterdam in a ship called the Goede Vrouw, built by the carpenters of that city, who always model their ships on the fair forms of their countrywomen. This vessel, whose beauteous model was declared to be the greatest belle in Amsterdam, had one hundred feet in the beam, one hundred feet in the keel, and one hundred feet from the bottom of the stern-post to the taffrail. Those illustrious adventurers who sailed in her landed on the Jersey flats, preferring a marshy ground, where they could drive piles and construct dykes. They made a settlement at the Indian village of Communipaw, the egg from which was hatched the mighty city of New York. In the author's time this place had lost its importance:

"Communipaw is at present but a small village, pleasantly situated,
among rural scenery, on that beauteous part of the Jersey shore
which was known in ancient legends by the name of Pavonia,
--[Pavonia, in the ancient maps, is given to a tract of country
extending from about Hoboken to Amboy]--and commands a grand
prospect of the superb bay of New York. It is within but half an
hour's sail 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 still
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 neighborhood of this city, that
they always laugh loudest, which he attributes to the circumstance
of their having their holiday clothes on.

"These negroes, in fact, like the monks of the dark ages, engross
all the knowledge of the place, and being infinitely more
adventurous and more knowing than their masters, carry on all the
foreign trade; making frequent voyages to town in canoes loaded with
oysters, buttermilk, and cabbages. They are great astrologers,
predicting the different changes of weather almost as accurately as
an almanac; they are moreover exquisite performers on three-stringed
fiddles; in whistling 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
their amazing skill at casting up accounts upon their fingers, they
are regarded with as much veneration as were the disciples of
Pythagoras of yore, when initiated into the sacred quaternary of
numbers.

"As to the honest burghers of Communipaw, like wise men and sound
philosophers, they never look beyond their pipes, nor trouble their
heads about any affairs out of their immediate neighborhood; so that
they live in profound and enviable ignorance of 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-devil and the Narrows are the two ends of
the world,--that the country is still under the dominion of their
High Mightinesses,--and that the city of New York still goes by the
name of Nieuw Amsterdam. They meet every Saturday afternoon 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 little villages in the
vicinity of this most beautiful of cities, which are so many
strongholds and fastnesses, whither the primitive manners of our
Dutch forefathers have retreated, and where they are cherished with
devout and scrupulous 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. The language
likewise continues unadulterated by barbarous innovations; and so
critically correct is the village schoolmaster in his dialect, that
his reading of a Low-Dutch psalm has much the same effect on the
nerves as the filing of a handsaw."

The early prosperity of this settlement is dwelt on with satisfaction by the author:

"The neighboring Indians in a short time became accustomed to the
uncouth sound of the Dutch language, and an intercourse 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 bull, the Wabash,
and the Great Spirit, to which the others would listen very
attentively, smoke their pipes, and grunt 'yah, mynher', 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 dealings and purchased by weight,
establishing 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 Dutchman 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 Communipaw!

"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 uncommon 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 truly remarkable, excepting that the former were
rugged and mountainous, and the latter level and marshy. About this
time the tranquillity of the Dutch colonists was doomed to suffer a
temporary interruption. In 1614, Captain Sir Samuel Argal, sailing
under a commission from Dale, governor of Virginia, visited the
Dutch settlements on Hudson River, and demanded their submission to
the English crown and Virginian dominion. To this arrogant 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 settlement
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 Pavoniaso
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 vapor. In commemoration of this
fortunate escape, the worthy inhabitants have continue, to smoke,
almost without intermission, unto this very day; which is said to be
the cause of the remarkable fog which often hangs over Communipaw of
a clear afternoon."

The golden age of New York was under the reign of Walter Van Twiller, the first governor of the province, and the best it ever had. In his sketch of this excellent magistrate Irving has embodied the abundance and tranquillity of those halcyon days:

"The renowned Wouter (or Walter Van Twiller) was descended from a
long line 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 being universally applauded, should be the object
of ambition of all magistrates and rulers. There are two opposite
ways by which some men make a figure in the world: one, by talking
faster than they think, and the other, by holding their tongues and
not thinking at all. By the first, many a smatterer acquires the
reputation of a man of quick parts; by the other, many a dunderpate,
like the owl, the stupidest of birds, comes to be considered the
very type of wisdom. This, by the way, is a casual remark, which I
would not, for the universe, have it thought I apply to Governor Van
Twiller. It is true he was a man shut up within himself, like an
oyster, and rarely spoke, except in monosyllables; but then it was
allowed he seldom said a foolish thing. So invincible was his
gravity that he was never known to laugh or even to smile through
the whole course of along and prosperous life. Nay, if a joke were
uttered in his presence, that set light-minded hearers in a roar, it
was observed to throw him into a state of perplexity. Sometimes he
would deign to inquire into the matter, and when, after much
explanation, the joke was made as plain as a pikestaff, he would
continue to smoke his pipe in silence, and at length, knocking out
the ashes, would exclaim, 'Well! I see nothing in all that to laugh
about.'

"With all his reflective habits, he never made up his mind on a
subject. His adherents accounted for this by the astonishing
magnitude of his ideas. He conceived every subject on so grand a
scale that he had not room in his head to turn it over and examine
both sides of it. Certain it is, that, if any matter were
propounded to him on which ordinary mortals would rashly determine
at first glance, he would put on a vague, mysterious look, shake his
capacious head, smoke some time in profound silence, and at length
observe, that 'he had his doubts about the matter;' which gained him
the reputation of a man slow of belief and not easily imposed upon.
What is more, it has gained him a lasting name; for to this habit of
the mind has been attributed his surname of Twiller; which is said
to be a corruption of the original Twijfler, or, in plain English,
Doubter.

"The person of this illustrious old gentleman was formed and
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, would 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 backbone, just between the
shoulders. His body was oblong and 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 labor of
walking. His legs were short, but sturdy in proportion to the
weight they had to sustain; so that when erect he had not a little
the appearance of a beer-barrel on skids. His face, that infallible
index of the mind, presented a vast expanse, unfurrowed by any of
those lines and angles which disfigure the human countenance with
what is termed expression. Two small gray eyes twinkled feebly in
the midst, like two stars of lesser magnitude in a hazy firmament,
and his full-fed cheeks, which seemed to have taken toll of
everything 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 Wouter Van Twiller,--a true
philosopher, for his mind was either elevated above, or tranquilly
settled below, the cares and perplexities of this world. He had
lived in it for years, without feeling the least curiosity to know
whether the sun revolved round it, or it round the sun; and he had
watched, for at least half a century, the smoke curling from his
pipe to the ceiling, without once troubling his head with any of
those numerous theories by which a philosopher would have perplexed
his brain, in accounting for its rising above the surrounding
atmosphere.

"In his council he presided with great state and solemnity. He sat
in a huge chair of solid oak, hewn in the celebrated forest of the
Hague, fabricated by an experienced timmerman 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 jasmine and amber, which had been
presented to a stadtholder of Holland at the conclusion of a treaty
with one of the petty Barbary powers. In this stately chair would
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 council-chamber. Nay, it has even
been said, that when any deliberation of extraordinary length and
intricacy was on the carpet, the renowned Wouter would 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 sounds, which his
admirers declared were merely the noise of conflict, made by his
contending doubts and opinions . . . .

"I have been the more anxious to delineate fully the person and
habits of Wouter Van Twiller, from the consideration that he was not
only the first but 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 single instance of any offender being brought to punishment,
--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 Twiller was a lineal
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 installed in office, and at the moment that he was
making his breakfast from a prodigious earthen dish, filled with
milk and Indian pudding, he was interrupted by the appearance of
Wandle Schoonhoven, a very important old burgher of New Amsterdam,
who complained bitterly of one Barent Bleecker, inasmuch as he
refused to come to a settlement of accounts, seeing that there was a
heavy balance in favor of the said Wandle. Governor Van Twiller, 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 shoveled a spoonful
of Indian pudding into his mouth,--either as a sign that he relished
the dish, or comprehended the story,--he called unto him his
constable, and pulling out of his breeches-pocket a huge jackknife,
dispatched 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 the 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 commentator, or a
learned decipherer of Egyptian obelisks. 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 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 marvelous 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 receipt, and Barent should give Wandle
a receipt, and the constable should pay the costs. This decision,
being straightway made known, diffused general joy throughout New
Amsterdam, for the people immediately perceived that they had a very
wise and equitable magistrate to rule over them. But its happiest
effect was, that not another lawsuit took place throughout the whole
of his administration; and the office of constable fell into such
decay that there was not one of those losel scouts known in the
province for many years. I 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
modern 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."

This peaceful age ended with the accession of William the Testy, and the advent of the enterprising Yankees. During the reigns of William Kieft and Peter Stuyvesant, between the Yankees of the Connecticut and the Swedes of the Delaware, the Dutch community knew no repose, and the "History" is little more than a series of exhausting sieges and desperate battles, which would have been as heroic as any in history if they had been attended with loss of life. The forces that were gathered by Peter Stuyvesant for the expedition to avenge upon the Swedes the defeat at Fort Casimir, and their appearance on the march, give some notion of the military prowess of the Dutch. Their appearance, when they were encamped on the Bowling Green, recalls the Homeric age:

"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 lifeguards of the governor. These were commanded by the valiant
Stoffel Brinkerhoof, 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 industry and the amphibious origin of the Nederlands.

"On their right hand might be seen the vassals of that renowned
Mynheer, Michael Paw, who lorded it over the fair 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 recumbent upon a sea-green field; being the armorial bearings
of his favorite metropolis, Communipaw. He brought to the camp a
stout force of warriors, heavily armed, being each clad in ten pair
of linsey-woolsey breeches, and overshadowed by broad-brimmed
beavers, with short pipes twisted in their hatbands. These were the
men who vegetated in the mud along the shores of Pavonia, being of
the race of genuine copperheads, and were fabled to have sprung from
oysters.

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

"Hard by was the tent of the men of battle from the marshy borders
of the Waale-Boght 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 honorable
order of knighthood called Fly-market shirks, and, if tradition
speak true, did likewise introduce the far-famed step in dancing
called 'double trouble.' They were commanded by the fearless
Jacobus Varra Vanger,--and had, moreover, a jolly band of Breuckelen
ferry-men, who performed a brave concerto on conch shells.

"But I refrain from pursuing this minute description, which goes on
to describe the warriors of Bloemen-dael, and Weehawk, and Hoboken,
and sundry other places, well known in history and song; for now do
the notes of martial music alarm the people of New Amsterdam,
sounding afar from beyond the walls of the city. But this alarm was
in a little while relieved, for lo! from the midst of a vast cloud
of dust, they recognized the brimstone-colored 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 principal gate of the city, that stood by the head of
Wall Street.

"First of all came the Van Bummels, who inhabit the pleasant borders
of the Bronx: these were short fat men, wearing exceeding large
trunk-breeches, and were 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 Kaatskill, horrible quaffers
of new cider, and arrant braggarts in their liquor.--After them
came the Van Pelts of Groodt Esopus, dexterous horsemen, mounted
upon goodly switch-tailed steeds of the Esopus breed. These were
mighty hunters of minks and musk-rats, whence came the word Peltry.
--Then the Van Nests of Kinderhoeck, valiant robbers of
birds'-nests, as their name denotes. To these, if 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 marvelous sympathy between
the seat of honor and the seat of intellect,--and that the shortest
way to get knowledge into the head was to hammer it into the
bottom.--Then the Van Grolls, of Antony's Nose, who carried their
liquor in fair, round little pottles, by reason they could not
house it out of their canteens, having such rare long noses. Then
the Gardeniers, of Hudson and thereabouts, distinguished by many
triumphant feats, such as robbing watermelon patches, smoking
rabbits out of their holes, and the like, and by being great lovers
of roasted pigs' 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 jew's-harp. These marched
two and two, singing the great song of St. Nicholas. Then the
Couenhovens, of Sleepy Hollow. These gave birth to a jolly race of
publicans, who first discovered the magic artifice of conjuring a
quart of wine into a pint bottle.--Then the Van Kortlandts, who
lived on the wild banks of the Croton, and were great killers of
wild ducks, being much spoken of for their skill in shooting with
the long bow.--Then the Van Bunschotens, of Nyack and Kakiat, who
were the first that did ever kick with the left foot. They were
gallant bushwhackers 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
KNICKERBOCKERS, of the great town of Scaghtikoke, 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 tosspots of yore; but, in truth, it was derived from
Knicker, to nod, and Boeken, books: plainly meaning that they were
great nodders or dozers over books. From them did descend the
writer of this history."

In the midst of Irving's mock-heroics, he always preserves a substratum of good sense. An instance of this is the address of the redoubtable wooden-legged governor, on his departure at the head of his warriors to chastise the Swedes:

"Certain it is, not an old woman in New Amsterdam but considered
Peter Stuyvesant as a tower of strength, and rested satisfied that
the public welfare was secure so long as he was in the city. It is
not surprising, then, that they looked upon his departure as a sore
affliction. With heavy hearts they draggled at the heels of his
troop, as they marched down to the river-side to embark. The
governor, from the stern of his schooner, gave a short but truly
patriarchal address to his citizens, wherein he recommended them to
comport like 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 intermeddling in
public concerns, intrusting the cares of government to the officers
appointed to support them, staying at home, like good citizens,
making money for themselves, and getting children for the benefit of
their country. That the burgomasters should look well to the public
interest,--not oppressing the poor nor indulging the rich,--not
tasking their ingenuity 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 public
morals than rat-catchers employed to entrap public 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 conscientiously complied with this golden rule,
there was no danger but that they would all conduct themselves well
enough. This 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 account of an expedition against Fort Christina deserves to be quoted in full, for it is an example of what war might be, full of excitement, and exercise, and heroism, without danger to life. We take up the narrative at the moment when the Dutch host,

"Brimful of wrath and cabbage,"

and excited by the eloquence of the mighty Peter, lighted their pipes, and charged upon the fort:

"The Swedish garrison, ordered by the cunning Risingh not to fire
until they could distinguish the whites of their assailants' eyes,
stood in horrid silence on the covert-way, until the eager Dutchmen
had ascended the glacis. Then did they pour into them such a
tremendous volley, that the very hills quaked around, and were
terrified even unto an incontinence of water, 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 their 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 counterscarp, and
falling tooth and nail upon the foe with curious outcries. And now
might be seen prodigies of valor, unmatched in history or song.
Here was the sturdy Stoffel Brinkerhoff brandishing his
quarter-staff, like the giant Blanderon his oak-tree (for he
scorned to carry any other weapon), and drumming a horrific tune
upon the hard heads of the Swedish soldiery. There were the 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. On a rising knoll were gathered the valiant
men of Sing-Sing, assisting marvelously in the fight by chanting
the great song of St. Nicholas; but as to the Gardeniers of
Hudson, they were absent on a marauding party, laying waste the
neighboring water-melon patches.

"In a different part of the field were the Van Grolls of Antony's
Nose, struggling to get to the thickest of the fight, but horribly
perplexed in a defile between two hills, by reason of the length of
their noses. So also the Van Bunschotens of Nyack and Kakiat, so
renowned for kicking with the left foot, were brought to a stand for
want of wind, in consequence of the hearty dinner they had eaten,
and would have been put to utter rout but for the arrival of a
gallant corps of voltigeurs, composed of the Hoppers, who advanced
nimbly to their assistance on one foot. Nor must I omit to mention
the valiant 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 whom he would
infallibly have annihilated on the spot, but that he had come into
the battle with no other weapon but his trumpet.

"But now the combat thickened. On came the mighty Jacobus Varra
Vanger and the fighting-men of the Wallabout; after them thundered
the Van Pelts of Esopus, together with the Van 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-guard 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 commingled, tugged,
panted, and blowed. The heavens were darkened with a tempest of
missives. Bang! went the guns; whack! went the broad-swords; thump
went the cudgels; crash! went the musket-stocks; blows, kicks,
cuffs; scratches, black eyes and bloody noses swelling the horrors
of the scene! Thick thwack, cut and hack, helter-skelter,
higgledy-piggledy, hurly-burly, head-over-heels, rough-and-tumble!
Dunder and blixum! swore the Dutchmen; splitter and splutter! cried
the Swedes. Storm the works! shouted Hardkoppig Peter. Fire the
mine roared stout Risingh. Tanta-rar-ra-ra! twanged the trumpet
of Antony Van Corlear;--until all voice and sound became
unintelligible,--grunts of pain, yells of fury, and shouts of
triumph mingling in one hideous clamor. The earth shook as if
struck with a paralytic stroke; trees shrunk aghast, and withered
at the sight; rocks burrowed in the ground like rabbits; and even
Christina Creek turned from its course and ran up a hill in
breathless terror.