Changing Scenes,

A Description of Men and Manners of
The Present Day,

Humorous Details of the Knickerbockers.

In Two Volumes.

By a Lady of New-York.

America now can boast some pleasing themes,

Since her canals afford such silver streams;

That her fair daughters, whose enlightened minds

Cannot be flattered by the poet’s lines.

Printed for The Author.


Be it remembered, That on the 1825-09-19nineteenth day
of September, A. D. 1825
, in the fiftieth year of the Independence
of the United States of America, C.S. Van Winkle,
of the said district, hath deposited in this office the title of a
book, the right whereof he claims as proprietor, in the words
following, to wit:

“Changing Scenes, containing a Description of Men and
Manners of the present day, with Humourous Details of the
Knickerbockers. In two volumes.
By a Lady of New-York.
America now can boast some pleasing themes, Since her canals afford such silver streams; That her fair daughters, whose enlightened minds Cannot be flattered by the poet’s lines.”

In conformity to the act of Congress of the United States,
entitled, An act for the encouragement of learning, by securing
the copies of maps, charts, and books, to the authors
and proprietors of such copies, during the time therein mentioned;
and also, to an act, entitled, An act supplementary
to an act, entitled, an act for the encouragement of
learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and books
to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during the
times therein mentioned,
and extending the benefits thereof
to the arts of designing, engraving, and etching historical
and other prints.

James Dill,
Clerk of the Southern District of New-York.


To General La Fayette.

Honoured Sir,

With all hearts expanded, America hails you to her

When the recollection of your youthful days, which
were solely devoted to assist in placing us in a situation
to become one of the greatest nations on earth;
when we are ready to acknowledge, with gratitude
to you who has ventured in his declining years to visit
us, who are now advancing in arts, sciences, agriculture
and commerce, and every blessing a great nation
can boast, may we now, worthy sir, hope that the remainder
of your days may be spent amongst us, to
enliven and direct. As a small tribute of respect,
I dedicate a few pages for your perusal. Should a
gloom arise in your mind at the thoughts of leaving
your dear relatives, may you find in this small offering
something to cause a smile, and relieve your anxiety:
then will these pages, and the female writer of them,
whose ancestors, though remote, drew their first breath
in the same country that gave you existence, be highly
gratified. That you may long enjoy health, and
that the changing scenes which we must all meet with,
may be agreeable, is the devout wish and fervent prayer

The Author.

1(2)v 1(3)r

Changing Scenes.

Chapter I.

Counsellor Blackbean, from Doctors’ Commons, London
—his character contrasted with John Cornelius
, from Long Island—his marvellous
description of a large turnip, intended for the premium
Captain Collins, from Sautucket, with his
pleasantness to Miss McNally.

It was in one of those moments, when the
mind is at rest, and no unwelcome thoughts
intrude upon our solitude—when it is delightful
to regale the soul by the contemplations of
past enjoyments, and compare them and trace
their various and meandering influences, from
the stately and gorgeous palace to the straw-
thatched cottage, still finding the human heart
invariably the same—sordid, avaricious, credulous.

1* 1(3)v 6

It was at such a moment, that I was just
seated and gazing on the clouded hemisphere,
when I was suddenly interrupted by a loud
rap at the hall door. A disconsolate female
presented herself, whose countenance indicated
thought, humility and sincerity of manner;
my mind at this moment seemed, happily,
in somewhat of a sympathetic mood,
and I received the stranger with a kind and
hearty welcome. “What unexpected event,
my fair friend, has occasioned this journey
over craggy rocks and roads almost impassible
—some faithless vows or stubborn selfishness;
or, mayhap, a callous obdurate heart,
is the pitiable incentive. Speak, lovely stranger,
and let the tear of sympathy bedew this
cheek. It is not vain curiosity that prompts
me to commiserate; it is a more heightened
feeling—’tis the overflowing of a feeling
heart. My mind presages that poverty, grief,
or disappointment, conducted you here.”

“Ah,” replied this afflicted stranger, “your
conjectures are not right; true, my face may
show sorrow and disappointment, but I assure
you, madam, the face is not always the indiex
of the mind; in my peregrinations through 1(4)r 7
life, I have often seen a face of pleasure,
with a heart of pain: the sole object of my
travelling, is fully to obtain what I fear that
I never can posibly attain; it is a perfect
knowledge of the human heart. I have
ever, from my infancy, wished to be great;
and my father observed in my youthful days
that a description o f courts and grandeur
gave me uncommon delight. I always read
with an audable voice, and with elevated
pleasure, whenever such scenes were presented
to my raptured imagination. My family
are decended from the Milesian race; pride
and ambition prompted me to seek an asylum
in America, where talents and industrious
habits always succeed in obtaining a competency,
if not actual wealth. Encouraged by
the advices of my friends, I hastened to this
hospitable shore, in pursuit of wealth. I had
a taste for music; and on my passage I often
indulged myself, and extremely gratified those
around me. The captain of the ship seemed
particularly delighted, although his manners,
which I shall take the liberty to describe,
were peculiarly uncouth, and nautical. His
name was Collins; and I soon observed that
he was a good man, active and intelligent, but 1(4)v 8
no judge of music. He was born at Sautaucket,
on Long Island: ‘law, faw, me,’ he
used to say, ‘I could hear you sing if the
vessel was on her beam ends; pray, where
did you get your music, Miss?’
‘Sir, I
used to sing at the Rotunda.’
‘They are
all flats there, are they not?’
‘No,’ replied
I, ‘there are two sharps for one flat in their
‘I wonder,’ replied the captain,
‘how long it would take to learn the gamut?
for then, I take it, that persons may improve
themselves. I often tried when I was a boy,
and my friends advised me to continue, as I
would soon play Jenny Bang the Weaver,
and Molly Put the Kettle on.’
‘O, sir,’
replied I, ‘the bag-pipes are the best to begin

We had a boisterous passage, with only
three female passengers. The ship was
called the Belerophon. One of the ladies
was a Miss Sipthorn, of Clontarf, the other
a Dutch lady of the name of Vanderspiegle,
and your humble servant, Angelica Mc Nally.
And now I must crave your pardon for mentioning,
for a moment, the doctor of our ship,
whose conversation was rather physical; the 1(5)r 9
aorta, the carotid arteries, the arteria asperia,
and such like jargon, were his continual
conversation. The captain asked me one
day, was that French he spoke? I told him
I thought it to be either Italian or Latin.
His name was Orsi; he was very agreeable,
and in order to amuse us, he sung the following
fashionable air: ‘Oh, say not woman’s love is boughtWith vain and empty treasure;Oh, say not woman’s heart is caughtBy every idle pleasure. &c. &c.’”

Miss Mc Nally requested that I would gratify
her with a short account of my life, and
the many Changing Scenes I had witnessed
in others. I readily acquiesced, and began as

I am descended from a respectable family
in Antwerp, where economy and industry
were indispensable, to secure the affections of
my parents. In early life I was practised in
the following rules, viz.—First, to adorn my
person on Sunday, and grace the middle aisle
of the church; to be very attentive to church
discipline, and behave with religious decorum; 1(5)v 10
to pay strict attention to the sermon,
though I did not altogether understand it; to
bring home the text to my parents, in order
to show that I had been attentive; to gaze on
the congregation slightly, and with hauteur
and consequence, and, if possible, to fix my
eyes on one who, perhaps, was seeking mine.
In this happy state of things, how was my
tender heart taken by the appearance of John
Cornelius Covenhoven
, a tall, majestic youth
of florid countenance; he caught my admiring
eye, and soon, very soon, he approached
my father’s house, and, as it is the custom
there, tenderly asked me for my company.
Having a little vein of humour, in which I
felt willing to indulge, I replied: “I shall
not withdraw from your presence till your
conversation becomes painful.”

My father had unhappily at that time a
lawsuit depending, and was frequently visited
by that class of people whose business it
is to make crooked things appear straight.
Among the number was Counsellor Blackbean,
a man of great appearance, but who had
the sly look of a reynard. He was of distinguished
talents, but of no probity or honour; 1(6)r 11
in fact, he had nothing to recommend him
but the knowledge of the law, glossing the
new constitution.

It was Whitsunday when the Counsellor
met Mr. Covenhoven at my father’s house,
where there were many different characters
assembled. I viewed them all with a lynx eye,
and contemplated their varied faces. John
was sincerity and truth. In all he said,
Counsellor Blackbean was all evasion, deceit,
and hypocrisy.

The conversation turned on a variety of
subjects, in which each of the company took
a part. John C. talked of a large turnip raised
on Long-Island near where the old tulip
tree stood. iIf the Horticultural Society had
it, he would get a silver pitcher for it.

“I should endeavour with all my ingenuity,”
said Blackbean, “to enter in a caveat,
and prevent your getting the premium, by
endeavouring to prove it a radish, merely to
gratify my own ambition, and to convince the
world that we only live for opposition.”

1(6)v 12

My mother then entered the room, and the
conversation turned on the state of the weather;
she remarked, that by the almanac there
would be an eclipse on the --05-31last of May, in
the latitude of Jamaica. My father observed,
that he thought from his feelings, which he
deemed better than an almanac, that it would
very soon rain; and the conversation then, as
a natural consequence, turned on horticultural
pursuits. My mother was truly one of the
tender sex, gentle and kind in her demeanour,
persuasive in her manner, and one who honoured
her husband as Sarah did her Lord, by
a cheerful and ready obedience to his commands.
She was of the Drelincourt family.
My father was born in Albermale county,
Virginia; he was a justice of the quorum, and
very unlike many of our present judicial officers,
was much more desirous to make peace
between enemies, than to exasperate or destroy
the unity of friends. I have two sisters,
women of fashion, and who have ventured
into high life. Artemisia is tall and slender,
elegantly formed to please. Arrabella is passionate,
but possesses a good heart; her time
is chiefly devoted to music, dancing, and the 2(1)r 13
wild routine of company. I had one brother;
he is gone to South America to engage himself
under the brave Bolivar.

“Now, my inquisitive stranger,” said Miss
, “I should be pleased with a description
of your life, which has not been embittered,
I presume, by calamity.”

Certainly not; I have never known sorrow:
fortune’s smiles dawned on my infant
years; and when left to my own discretion
I discovered a propensity to travel—a desire
to visit courts, and to view the manners of the
great, was my determined resolution.

The first object of my desire was to visit
England; and I took passage for Liverpool,
where we arrived without the occurrence of
any incident worth relating. Accompanied
by a female friend, I left Liverpool in a stage
to visit several of the cities and towns in the
interior, in company with a variety of characters.
The first was an inquisitive traveller,
an author; he was so observant, that it was
visible in his looks and words—you could not Vol. I. 2 2(1)v 14
help noticing it—his pencil was ever ready—
but the irritability of his temper when disturbed
in his best reveries, excited much ridicule.

A Spanish gentleman from Estraxtremadura,
named Sigoren Esperando Nevarro, and his
cousin Don Diego, amused themselves snuffing
and gazing on the cover of their box,
which they said was made of the bark of a
large tree that blew down on Long-Island;
and Esperando had caused his sister’s picture
to be taken on it. She was a lady far advanced
in years, and illegally devested of
property, she always thought her own, till
the iron hand of despotism had seized and
taken it from her. I thought I could not pay
a greater respect to her memory than by
causing her likeness to be painted on this

To show the world that riches and honors,
youth and health all pass away, (and such
changing scenes in life are certain) a new cathedral
is now erected on the post where the
aged tree stood.

2(2)r 15

We then travelled some miles, during which
a perfect silence prevailed; nothing was heard
but the driver’s whip. At length, as from a
sleep, we all spake at once—what a fine day;
delightful travelling; the birds in yonder
grove seem to chant their soft feeble notes, in
order to remind us not to murmur at the vicissitudes
of this life, but cheerfully pass on as
though no troubles assailed us.

“Near where we shall dine—prepare your
appetites for England’s boast, roast beef and
plumb pudding, Cheshire cheese and Whitbread’s
ale—the desert will be pounds, shillings,
and pence, to shake your pockets.”

“I am told in America,” continued the driver,
“you draw checks for all your immediate
wants; they say there is a bank there for
every purpose under the sun: insurance offices
for the lives of all living mortals; and
there is a plan before the legislature in one
of the states, I do not recollect its name, to
insure the lives of lions, fish, wolves, and
camels, which that country abounds with.”

2(2)v 16

“I was born in America, sir; I do not recollect
any such public institution. I have
heard of Eagle and Phœnix Banks, and their
feathers are of the gayest plumage above all
the feathered creation.”
I had a pleasant
conversation, particularly with Miss Susannah
, a Portuguese young lady, who was
travelling for her health; she had been much
afflicted with a tinitus aurium, but was now
in a convalescent state, and cheerfullly passed
through the country. She was of low stature,
nineteen years of age, with a large aqualine
nose, black eyes, and prominent lips, her hair
jet black. When we alighted from the stage
each passenger directed his conversation to
one that he supposed his equal; for there is
in stages in general a mixed order of society.
It is difficult to distinguish at this day people
by their dress, as dress is so easily obtained;
the only difference that can be discovered is
when they speak; it is then the character and
education are discovered. Some persons think
it better not to sound all the letters in a
word, and to misapply them when they
speak; as, instead of “arm, house” they say
“harm, ouse,” &c. &c. As to a Frenchman, he 2(3)r 17
expresses himself with shrugging his shoulders
and wrinkling his forehead; he talks
fast, and whether understood or not, he cares
not a sous; he delights in a volubility of
speech, which certainly is fulsome. Then a
pert young lady from Broadway school, talks
of astronomy, chronology, theology, and a variety
of subjects, pleasing to none but herself.

After travelling through Europe, I returned
to America, my native home, and was much
delighted with its improvements; and fixed
my residence in Broadway, so as to have an
opportunity of discerning different characters,
and marking the predominate passions that
actuate the human mind, in this splendid city
of New-York, where wisdom guides the
councils of the great, and industry fills the
pockets of the deserving few, and enables
them to build spacious houses for their abode
on earth; and in due time perhaps will obtain
a small corner in the new contemplated
spot where frogs and reptiles enjoyed themselves
formerly. But mourn not ye sons and
daughters of Columbia, that you cannot, 2* 2(3)v 18
when the cold hand of death seizes you, be
deposited by your dearest friends; only pray
to live until the new Westminster Abbey is
built, and then you will perhaps be entombed
with all the sages and brave men of this
land, who are now quietly laid in many unfrequented
parts of our beloved country waiting
for elegies to be written in their praise,
with inscriptions on their monuments. I am
of opinion, Praises on tombs are trifles vainly spent,A man’s good name is his best monument.

I found on my return the benevolent inhabitants
of my native city all engaged in
making collections to aid the brave Greeks,
and were very successful. The female
mind felt particular sensation at the barbarous
treatment of the Turks to this ancient
people, who have, in former days, lived in
splendour and magnificence. As a tribute of
respect to them, there was a splendid military
ball given by the gentlemen of distinction
of the city. A description of the ladies and
gentlemen that attended will be unnecessary.

2(4)r 19

The following poetic effusion is by a lady,
a native of New-York:

On the Grand Military Ball, given 1824-01-08January 8th,
, in the aid of the Greeks.


Our bells and beaus united all

To celebrate the Grecian ball;

Which did outshine the comet’s blaze,

And caus’d the sons of Mars to gaze.


In female skill, who’ll share the fleece,

When welcom’d here the sons of Greece;

For true it is, you’ll always find,

Ambition fills the female mind.


In ancient days, and good old times,

The Romans call’d on the Sabines,

Made splendid feasts and drank, ’tis true,

Intent on beauty then in view.


Each snatch’d a fair, and took her home,

And thus was peopled ancient Rome;

The different banners, now in sight,

Did the female hearts delight.

2(4)v 20


Their rosy cheeks, and dress sublime,

Made them appear almost divine.

Our country now is all at peace,

Then welcome now ye sons of Greece

For ye are all, both rich and gay,

Thrice welcome to America.

The activity and philanthropy of this
country is astonishing; all hearts seem ready
to expand at distress; and benevolence seems
the grand order in council.

The first address from our tender pastors,
when we assemble to worship, is the following:

“A cup of cold water, given in the name of
a disciple, shall not lose its reward.”
Then reflection
seizes the mind, and all are electrified;
and immediately determine to give, and
not let their left hand know what their right
hand doeth.

The inhabitants of this city have various
amusements, and are so engaged in different 2(5)r 21
pursuits, that passing along after a north-east
storm we meet with many difficulties in crossing
the streets; and then we wish to retire
into the country, to wander where the tinkling
rills amuse us. Oft have I contemplated
on the sweets of retirement; the heart-felt
pleasure that is enjoyed, when a person thinks
he is forgotten by the world; none then can
revile or condemn his past conduct. He can
say, vain are all his empty pursuits. Rosy
health only is desirable. He can repeat
with the poet, For me health gushes from a thousand streams,From our own minds our satisfaction springs.
The poet forcibly displays that all our wishes
combine in the above situation. Next to health,
prosperity and riches, honours and enjoyments
are eagerly wished for by the present generation.
Mankind now soar above trifling pursuits,
or chemical chimeras; things are now
understood in their true light; no false gleam
dazzles the beholders.

Lord and lady Norberry have just arrived
in New-York from Campeachy, in company 2(5)v 22
with their intelligent niece, Miss Rosemary,
cousin to Miss Serena Mayberry, who is now
on a visit to Albany, the metropolis of this
state, where the learned and eloquent all assemble
to display their wisdom; and once a
year petition for all their approaching wants.

Immediately on their arrival they had every
respect paid to them that strangers of distinction
are entitled to; not ringing of bells and
firing of great guns, that is intended for such
only who distinguished themselves in our
late wars, which are now happily subsided.
Miss Rosemary was immediately applied to by
some missionaries, to accompany them to
Otaheite, to instruct and civalize the natives,
who are in rather a barbarous state. She
condescendingly replied that such a task would
afford her an inward satisfaction, and she
should immediately consult those who had
her welfare at heart in this state of her mind.
Many of her friends called on her; she never
consulted any but lord and lady Norberry,
who readily acquiesed in such a laudable undertaking.
Miss Serena Mayberry had lately,
since her return from Albany, captivated 2(6)r 23
the humourous doctor Darcy, and he was
continually teazing her. One day he was
accosted by his friend, who said, “it is a fine
day, Doctor.”
“Ah,” he replied, “very fine
to make tansy and balsam grow; but foggy
mornings and easterly winds, with redundant
rains, are my benefits”
A dense atmosphere
always brings on tremors, agues, and all other
inviting occasions to send for the doctor, who,
at the first visit, if he cannot exactly discriminate
what disorder his patient is attacked
with, (for there is a great similarity in diseases)
he must sit and appear, after the ceremony of
feeling the pulse is over, quite mute. Silence
in a physician is always a mark of great
wisdom and skill. Lord and lady Norberry
are retired characters, never mix in the gay
world. Lord L. one day addressed himself
to lady L. in the following style: “What is
your opinion of the present times, my dear, for
you are a second Madam Rowland in knowledge.”
“You certainly compliment me so
highly and undeservedly that I dare not give my
opinion. All I can aver is, that human nature
is much depraved, all seem so aspiring.
Those who formerly were content to furbelow 2(6)v 24
dresses, that is, trail and flounce them, and
contented themselves with admiring dresses
made for other people to wear, now seek pleasure
in more exalted pursuits; such as instructing
those that know less that themselves; for
there are, you know, none quite so ignorant
but can teach a little, and so in the end aggrandize
themselves; that is the great self-
sufficiency which many of the present day evidently
“I thank you, my dear,
for your opinion and information; but, I assure
you, I feel unhappy at the idea of our
niece leaving us; what possible advantage
will it be to herself? You certainly think that
mankind of the present day act from interested
motives; if so, why should she leave
us, if I continue in the same mind I am at
present, and have no children? She that is
born in my house, the Scripture says, has a
right to the inheritance.”
“My dear,” replied
Lady Norberry, “Rosemary wishes to be
doing good; and it has such a religious appearance
to teach sunday school, that it at
once stamps the character.”
There goes a
good girl, Miss Serena Mayberry; she called
on us, and we all teazed her about Doctor 3(1)r 25
. She made no reply; so I think she
has consented to his wishes, soon after he
came to pay us a friendly visit. I then enquired
of him, “what news, doctor, from the
“Oh, (fine times” he replied,) “there
is nothing but gayety and flattery, pomp and
finery, flummery and plumb pudding, with
beauty and simplicity.”
Here is a splendid
ball on foot, and all tradesmen are to be
there. Several ladies and gentlemen called on
us this day, as Sol’s bright beams had been obscured
for some days, and now appeared in
bright effulgence to cheer unhappy mortals
below. Among our visiters was Captain Bluster,
and he kindly offered his best birth, in the
cabin, to Miss Rosemary, as he sails to Oteheite
on Sunday next. The news soon reached
our friends, who came to take leave; among
the number was our friend councellor Blackbean,
who said he had just called at Miss
, where there were some characters
who were all hilarity and good humour.
Among the number was Doctor Narcotic,
who smilingly said he had been at Doctor
, where the bandages were all preparing,
and a straight waistcoat was recommendedvol. I. 3 3(1)v 26
to him, as being much in use the present
day—corsets and cosmetics appeared in
view; conserves were preparing with carroway
confits, which were to deck the table; the
middle dish was to be vermicilli soup; the
side dishes, arrowroot pudding with elderberry
sauce. Miss Rosemary, when she took
leave of lord and lady Norbury seemed much
affected, and thus addressed them:

“I was cast in nature’s mould for some exquisite
purpose; to cheer some unknown heart
that now is quiet and beats gently. I will
now rise at early morn, and solace myself
with the fragrant perfume that is diffused to
all around, and there in sweet and melodious
strains invoke the gods to hear my prayer;
that is, when time has past over me a few
more seasons, when I may hope to be blessed
in adamantine chains with the heart I adore.”

Doctor Narcotic addressed her: “I hope,
Miss, that I shall speedily congratulate you
on your return again to our healthy clime,
where the pulse vibrates in great order, and
the blood flows through the veins with rapid
motion, and words of comfort are pleasingly
conveyed by the voice to impatient lovers.”

3(2)r 27

Miss Mayberry and Dr. Darcy, were dressed
in the following style for their intended
nuptials; a crimson pelisse trimmed with
satin ribbons, a small Grecian bonnet turned
up in front with two large white feathers
tipped with silver, white kid shoes and Fayette
gloves. The doctor’s dress was such as
the faculty usually wear; Miss Mayberry
made the following remarks to Tawdry, her
maid, the morning previous to her marriage:
“I hope I have not too quickly, and without
reflection, consented to make another happy,
at the expense of my own thoughtlessness;
what on earth will be the event I know not;
but should I be fortunate, I know I will be
thankful, for a single life is irksome.—No
one to retail one’s misery to—no one to protect
She sung the following song.

How hard is my lot—

Though little I have got

I freely would share with another.

For woman alone,

Still seeks for the bone,

That unites her for ever, and ever.

3(2)v 28

In the morn I awake,

And no comfort I take,

Am grieved and cannot tell why,

Till my Darcy appears,

And lulls all my fears,

No longer I then sit and sigh.

After Miss Rosemary’s departure, there
was a letter found in her chamber, which, in
the hurry of the moment, she had dropt; the
contents were as follows:

“To Miss Angelina Rosemary. My amiable fair, the expectation of seeing
you, has hastened my return from Austrelesia;
what shall I write that will be sufficiently
expressive of my feelings? I know no
language to paint my ardent wishes to speak
to you; words when I see you will, I hope,
flow sufficient to convince you of my sincerity;
and if you pretend to doubt my veracity,
I will rush from you in a moment; for no
woman on earth shall trifle with my feelings—
if I know myself I must be respected. Pray
consider, and be wise, and let not the moment 3(3)r 29
pass that never will return—that waits your
consent to make us one,
Respectfully your’s,
(if you please,)
Helter Skelter.

What a singular character! he seems not
only all helter skelter, but all hurry and
hast; not a moment to think what must be
done; we can only style him mighty monarch
of passion? How high he is; perhaps ere he
is much older, he may repent his haste.

Miss Rosemary’s sadness at parting is now
accounted for. If it were not for the follies
of half the world, the remainder could not exist.
New-made dishes, like new-made clothes,
always inspire the owner, and give him fanciful
ideas that he is superior to others; his
hasty step and vivid countenance plainly demonstrate
he is happy; none of his former
acquaintance pass him by; all are inquiring
after his health and prosperity. On the reverse
of fortune, and the thread-bare coat appears,
he shuns and is shunned by his former
associates, and sinks into forgetfulness.

3* 3(3)v 30

Proud man! what better than a savage art
thou? The famed Pochohontas, the noble female
that saved the first settlers in Virginia,
how she adorned herself in all the feathers of
the winged creation: how charming she looked;
her mild soothing countenance was pleasant
beyond expression; her voice as the lark,
early and shrill; the tender passion of love inspired
her with veneration towards the brave
Captain Smith; she ingeniously contrived to
make known to him the threats that were premeditated
against him―― Lovely Aborigine! thrice lovely,Tho’ not enlightened by education.
Thy soft and feeling heart contrived to
save a man destined to death. Not a well
educated female of this hemisphere has shone
with half your beaming lustre. Peace to your gentle shade,Whose memory ne’er shall fade.

In rambling on the craggy summits in
Virginia, how picturesque that scene at morning
dawn, to behold the cloulds ascending in
humid vapours above the little meandering 3(4)r 31
rivulets, to point out their circumjacent windings,
cheer our gloomy feelings, and make us
magnify our great Omnipotent: to view Aurora
open her gates after we have silently reposed,
perhaps not serenely, for the troubles
of life are so many and various, that mortals
cannot always sleep to arise thus from a state
of forgetfulness, a state of nothing—from corroding
care. To awaken to a full fruition of
pleasure, and partake of such enjoyments as
conduce to health; calmly to sit and view the
horizon and azure sky, and at eve to behold
the effulgent brightness of the starry train
moving in grand order and succession, convince
us some mighty power directs and controuls
beyond our feeble comprehension: we
admire in silence! we praise thee, oh sweet
Director of our hearts and minds, who in thy
wisdom has placed us that we know not
ourselves. We must leave our destiny to thy
all powerful will, at the same time so conduct
ourselves as to be blameless in thy sight, following
the paths of virtue and holiness, without
which we cannot please thee, and so ordering
our steps that we may never stray from thee,
for we, alas! are all meteors of a day, and
as the passing clouds, vanish for ever.

3(4)v 32

After these reflections, I again resume my
pen to more enlivening subjects, in order to
amuse my readers, being well convinced that
changing scenes amuse the mind, should the
subject not be so entertaining.

3(5)r 33

Chapter II

Excursion to Croton and Poughkeepsie in a Jaunting
Car, in company with Miss Abercrombie, and my
Nephew, to Solomon Prodigal’s, with a description
of Mrs. Prodigal, and her comely daughter, Emily,
just from Bethlehem; and the kind reception we

I was passing from Croton, which is
about forty miles from New-York, up the
river Hudson to Poughkeepsie, in a superb
jaunting car, in company with Miss Frances
, a young lady of intellectual
powers and fascinating demeanour, ever willing
to put the best construction on words;
and should the breath of scandal ever surround
her, she would scatter it beneath her
feet, and spurn at the retailer.

Previous to our expedition, she was determined
to hear all that could be said in one
family, respecting the other, and remain mute.
The first house we made a stop at was squire
, who kept a superb inn, it being no
disparagement in America for even a governor
or a general to entertain travellers. The 3(5)v 34
Americans are so inquisitive, that all the family,
old and young, in the country crowd round
you when you descend from a jaunting car,
or any handsome carriage, particularly in the
New England states; where they are very
ambitious for knowledge, most particularly
the females; the men being for the most part
always planning, which is sometimes better
than working

Squire Nimble had two daughters, both intelligent
girls; they could spin and talk at the
same time, most cheerfully; especially the
youngest, named Sarah, in memory of her
grandmother, who lived to the age of one

I addressed the oldest, who was not quite
so affable, and inquired how the young ladies
employed their time in the country; she
quickly replied, two-thirds of their time was
spent in obtaining intelligence of the concerns
of their neighbours—their economy, their
pusillanimity, their religion and industry, and
every other occurrence that took place. I
then requested her to give me a short description 3(6)r 35
of their marriage ceremonies and
christenings, as we intended to spend a day
or two at this house of agreeable entertainment,
before we went to Poughkeepsie,
for ours was only intended as a jaunt of pleasure.
My nephew, a youth of twenty years
of age, was of our party, who never takes
any delight in presence of the ladies; so
he amused himself by seeing the horses fed,
and keeping the fowls from eating their
oats, that they may be enabled to proceed
on their journey. He held it a true maxim,
that when you alight at an inn, you should
see that your horses are taken good care of,
and not depend on a vassal, who always
neglects them.

The front of Squire Nimble’s house was
nearly covered with dried pumpkins and apples.
His eldest daughter sauntered with
me, by way of amusement, first to the hog-
sty, and then to the cucumber plot, to look
for melons; for indeed she was a good
sort of a girl, tried to amuse me while her
mother, as I supposed, was preparing the
chickens for dinner, as I heard a great noise 3(6)v 36
and fluttering in the coop, which I endeavoured
to shut my ears against, but could
not entirely. I began singing Welcome La
—she begged me to write it for her.
She said she would send to the store for paper;
I told her we had plenty, and would
give it to her.

I then requested she would relate the customs
of the place. She said it would be impossible,
as every family varied in their pursuits;
some rose early, some likewise were
so avaricious, that they worked both day and
night; for farming required great, very great
industry; and then you would know that you
would obtain cash. She was fearful, she
said, that the grand canal so much talked of
formerly, and now, she heard, so much used,
would ruin all the farmers near New-York;
as truck (that is, produce) had been sold so
cheap that it would not pay for raising it;
and, indeed, their neighbour Spriggins had
reported that it was current in New-York,
that the next trippers in the canal boats
meant, by way of speculation, to give their
things for nothing, and see how that would 4(1)r 37
please the scribes and pharisees in New-York,
and ruin all the gardeners on Manhattan Island,
Communipaw, and Saugerchies.

“You astonish me, Miss Sophy; I have
just come from New-York, and there is not a
word of truth in it.”
“So I told father—let
him that putteth his hand to the plough not
turn back, for the labourer is worthy of his
hire: and moreover, I said likewise to sister
Sarah, we will not faint or murmur, but
water our father’s flocks as usual, and in
shearing time, snatch the fleece and spin and
make merry, for deuce take the canal and all
“Now, Miss, you promised that
you would inform me of the marriage ceremony
of your neighbours.”

“O! do excuse me from that painful subject,
since I have been disappointed in that
cried Sophy: “I hate to talk of
love; sister Sarah will entertain you most
cheerfully; she is more intelligent than I,
and goes to all the spinning parties in the

Vol. I. 4 4(1)v 38

In the height of our conversation, the old
gentleman (by name Nimble) announced dinner;
my nephew was called from the pigeon
house, and miss Frances Abercrombie from
the garden, where she was collecting flower
seeds, to an excellent dinner prepared by
Mrs. Nimble, who, I assure you, was a
dignified lady, for the keeper of a hotel, and
so polite withal, that it was not quite so
agreeable at the time that our appetites were
so keen. She dissected the poultry with
great exactness, while her husband sliced the
ham very thin, and looked up to her for approbation
“Ladies, what will you be pleased
to be helped to? These chickens always
roosted in our little hen house, and I fed
them daily; these are of the top-knot breed
and very fat.”
I confess I was not much
pleased, though the scripture says “kill and
I could not taste my chicken, for she
had too ably expatiated on the breed. I felt
disagreeable; begged to be helped to ham
as, coming from New-York, fresh provisions
were no novelty. Not eat chickens!—she
was surprised. My nephew ate voraciously
as he was convinced after all politeness was 4(2)r 39
over we should be well charged, and so spared
not his taste of all the good things that were
offered; and the time passed on quite agreeably.
“Ladies,” said the landlord, “you have
had great doings in York. I hear the great
Fayette is come; were you to see him?”

“By all means; every inhabitant paid due
homage to him. Jew and Christian, catholic
and protestant, all united to worship him.”

“The latter days are not far off,” said the
old man, “for we read in INTERNAL ERROR. Please report to wwp@neu.edu that regMe is unmatched.Zechariah, (I do
not remember the chapter,) that before the
great and terrible day of the Lord come, all
people shall be united—Jews, Turks, and
Christians, in one cause, and that in the
cause of truth; and as he has fought for us,
that is truth, and no one dare contradict it. I
commend the people of New-York, who seem
to exceed all the states in magnificence and

The conversation turned on a variety of
subjects. Sarah, the youngest daughter, is
very conversant; for it is to be observed, that
women formerly thought silence was the 4(2)v 40
greatest mark of good breeding, and the
greatest recommendation to a young lady.—
Not so the present day: they now talk of
Redgauntlets, Spies, Pilots and Pirates, and
a whole train of excellent writings not to be
surpassed in these days—such is female inquisitiveness.

There was a writer in New-Jersey in former
days, who signed his name Hortensius;
he particularly addressed his fair countrywomen
as follows:

“To your homespun, my fair daughters;
I advise you, for your own peace and quiet.”

To your homespun—meaning their ancient
manners and customs, as being most congenial
to happiness.

After dinner the company dispersed to their
different occupations; our company to their
pleasure. Sarah staid by us, at my request,
and was very intelligible. The old lady then
came to us. I asked the age of her oldest
daughter. She told me, she was born in
corn-planting time; she always dated the 4(3)r 41
birth of her family from putting in the crops.
“My sister,” said she, “was very old; she
was born 1775-08-23the day the Asia man of war fired on
, in 1774one thousand seven hundred
and seventy-four
, the beginning of the old
revoloutionary war, when brave men in this
country took up arms—many knew not for
what. Their posterity are now so loaded
with honourable and profitable situations, as
entirely to forget they ever were born; for
fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers, are
never mentioned; and perhaps never thought
of in these days of prosperity: like Lot’s wife,
they must not look back, for fear of turning
to salt—or dirt. My sister lived to a good
old age, and oftentimes she would relate to
me the ancient manners of the native citizens
of New-York, their descent, cleanly appearance,
the veneration they held towards the
minister of the gospel, such as is now paid to
the missionaries. In all unhappy family disputes
(which will arise) they pacified the
parties; not crim. con. pretensions—they were
never heard of; men in those days regarded
woman as God’s last and best gift, as the 4* 4(3)v 42
great Milton beautifully expresses it in his
ever to be admired writings: ‘Arise my fairest, my espoused, my latest found,Heaven’s last, best gift, man’s ever new delight.—Awake! behold the morning shines,And the fresh fields call us away.’”

Miss Frances Abercrombie was so pleased
with old Mrs. Nimble’s recital of past events,
that she begged me to prolong our stay,
having no idea that a landlady of an inn
could be so entertaining. She was born in
London, where they make great distinctions;
the people are all classed in several orders
there, and it would be disgraceful to descend
to any person beneath you. There are your
lords, your dukes, marquises, counts, viscounts;
then your dealers, hosiers, haberdashers,
fruiters, fiddlers, cockneys, and a
long list of characters, who never mix in
society; all know their company, from High-
to New-gate, and steadily and industriously
pursue one course, which in time never
fails to ensure profit, and so far lead the
world, that all their manufuctures flourish to 4(4)r 43
this day. A few more imposing duties on
foreign luxuries, will raise America; and
then probably her inhabitants will class
themselves likewise. But at present we are
all on a level in this free country; I had almost
said black and white, no distinction—a
fat goose is a fat goose, and he that can purchase
it, has a free right to eat it. So much
for our excellent constitution. We have
wholesome laws, which fatten people to explain
them. Rich lands too, but, (sorry to let
the world know,) very poor owners. Rich
emigrants will not visit our shores; poor ones
only will benefit themselves.

In the midst of our conversation, in which
the old lady had really astonished us, my
nephew approached and begged to know if
we intended proceeding on our journey, as
the hay was bad at this place, and the oats
had been gathered too soon. I assured him
we should proceed to Poughkeepsie next
day, and so prepared ourselves for our departure.
The young ladies, at our request, assented
to pay us a visit at New-York. My
friends frowned at me for inviting them.

4(4)v 44

“You know,” they observed “my dear aunt,
that we shall be much ashamed to see them
at our house in New-York. Consider, we
live in Broadway, the emporium of fashion.”

I told them we would just take them to Joe
store; a few jewels quickly adorn
a lady, and dresses are now so cheap, it is
impossible to tell a lady—but what matter,
in these days mixed company is the rage. “I
repeat it again, there is no distinction in this
country; we are not in Gloucestershire, or
Pembrokeshire—we are on the road to
Poughkeepsie, and you must banish pride
from your bosom. Oh pride! what a destruction
to human nature. American pride
is above German pride, and that is represented
to exceed all others—for certainly they
show it, and that makes it most noticed.”
was a fine pleasant morning when we left our
entertainers, and they were not so exorbitant
in their bills as my nephew George Washington
thought they would be. After passing
over a hilly country, we stopped at Peekskill,
and refreshed ourselves; my nephew begged
we would not delay so long on the road.
Miss Frances kept a journal; however, there 4(5)r 45
were no very lively occurrences took place;
the country around seemed to present to view
fine crops of corn, &c. &c.

Upon this we proceeded to Poughkeepsie;
had letters of introduction to the honourable
Solomon Prodigal; he waited on us at our
arrival, and insisted that we should not stay
in a tavern, as he called it; came for us, and
received us with every mark of attention;
kindly inquired after the banker in New-York
that had introduced us, and such trivial conversation
as generally takes place at the first
interview of the rich and great.

“Have you dined?” We, in order to save
trouble to our friend, said we had, (meaning
yesterday,) knowing in a private family of
distinction it creates confusion to take them
by surprise, if their family is ever so well

After a few moments had elapsed, Mrs.
entered with great dignity; we
were ceremoniously introduced by the husband,
who handed her the letter; she was 4(5)v 46
nearest, and called for her spectacles, and after
reading it made a pause: “You are from
New-York, I suppose?”
We bowed.

Judge Prodigal’s lady was about fifty years
of age; had been extremely handsome in her
youth; had lived in New York; was very
facetious for one of her time of life, and delighted
in tales of humour. “Now, ladies,”
said she, “you must throw aside all ceremony
in my house, and enjoy yourselves as if at
home; all but one thing you are welcome
—meaning her husband.

The ladies were pleased at their kind reception,
and the young gentleman enjoyed himself
on the farm with Mr. Solomon Prodigal.

The village rang at the arrival of such
great people from New-York, and the jaunting
car stood the strictest scrutiny. They
were very inquisitive to know if we were the
owners, which I assure you we did not conceal.
The servants gazed, the neighbours
made slight excuses for calling, and I can be
free to say, we were much admired.

4(6)r 47

Miss Abercrombie was handsomely dressed
in a riding habit of the colour of the crocodile,
changeable; her hat turned up in front,
with two waving black feathers; she had a
handsome hand, with several glittering rings
on her fingers, which she variously displayed
by touching the piano—for they had an excellent

A young lady about sixteen years of age
was then introduced—tall of stature, with fair
hair and pale visage, and rather reserved in
her manners, quite unlike her mother; seemed
as if all her movements were planned,
and all her observations studied; she tried to
be agreeable, but that was impossible, for her
formal manners had become habitual, and she
could not surmount them. My nephew
gazed at her, as at a comet, with pleasure
and astonishment. She shone in his eyes
with that brightness that illumined his soul
beyond all he had ever seen before. Her
mother, with her accustomed frankness, apologized
for Emily’s taciturnity; saying at
Bethlehem, where she had been educated, the
young ladies were all seriouus. “O mamma! 4(6)v 48
you always make me the subject of your irony;
certainly I have not that flow of words
which I shall have when more acquainted
with the world: and I have been taught that
it is better not to speak, than to do it ungracefully.
I hope my studious manner will give
no offence to my dear parents; and at present
it seems I have no other desire than to please
“Pray Miss,” interrupted Miss
, “did you like the manners of the

“Certainly I did, or I should not have
remained there.”
Tea being announced, the
ladies and gentlemen entered the drawing-
room, which appeared as though it had not
been opened for some time. There were
sumptuous things in great profusion, particularly
all kinds of preserves; the manner in
which they were preserved, gave the old lady
great pleasure to relate.

After tea the party all took a walk to the
river; George Washington Claibourn taking
Miss Emily by the hand, who appeared
quite reserved. Miss Frances and myself 5(1)r 49
paraded together, and the old lady and gentleman.

Every brook and tree was described to us
by the aged pair; every plant and shrub, their
usefulness and virtues were pointed out; and
I can truly say the walk was both pleasant
and edifying, for nothing pleased Mrs. Prodigal
more than diffusing her knowledge to
benefit the human race. Her husband though
a good man, was secret and mysterious in all
his ways, for it may be truly said they were
past finding out.

The neighbours all assembled in the evening;
some no doubt out of curiosity, some to
make remarks, and others to take patterns of
the dresses of the ladies. The conversation
was varied and entertaining, the ladies sung;
and Miss Emily played, “Willie’s rare, Willie’s fair, and he is wond’rous bonnie,And he swears he’ll marry me, ’gin ere he marries ony.”

The old happy pair seemed agreeably surprised
to find their daughter in such spirits— Vol. I. 5 5(1)v 50
they never witnessed her in such hilarity before.
They began to suspect she had motive
for her change of behaviour; which I also suspected,
as my nephew never wanted to hurry
us from Poughkeepsie. At an early hour
we retired to rest; the old lady said, very
humourously, I will interpret your dreams tomorrow
—so try and recollect them. We
entered the chambers, where hangings were
as white as snow, and a variety of pictures of
the ancient family decorated the walls, which
revived in our minds past scenes. Early next
morning as we graced the breakfast parlour
we were asked our dreams, which the old
lady interpreted. All silence prevailed, and
she thus began:

“To dream that you are in want of money
is a certain sign that C.’s notes will again
pass current; to dream that Porter’s squadron
has taken all the pirates, denotes that the
next Exchange that is to be built in New
will cost a million of stivers, and make
the rich and gouty groan and sigh; to dream
of the rejoicing for the new constitution, is 5(2)r 51
a certain sign that there will be many turncoats
and thread-bare waistcoasts worn, as
an apology for economy, to bring all on
a level. To dream of making the great
national road from Washington city to Alabama,
is ominous that the next president
will be chosen from the magnificent city
of New-York, to the extreme mortification
of the large, mountainous, well watered, and
beautiful state of Virginia, whose superb
natural bridge has been so exquisitely described
by a great scientific character, as
an inducement to the brave Greeks to
emigrate to this region, where the wild
deer ramble unpursued and undaunted.—
All silence reigns in this sublime forest,
no jockeyed sportsman well mounted, with
‘hark forward,’ ‘tally-ho,’ here points his pistol;
the knotted oak rises apparently to the
skies, the sycamore smiles, the huge gum-
tree spreads her foliage, and affords the weary
traveller a shady covert from the scorching
rays of Sol’s bright beams. The hemlock
leaves afford a stupefactive draught to sooth
the many sorrows of this sublunary life, and 5(2)v 52
serve to make us forget our miseries, and pass
on as though nothing awaits us.”

Thus ended the interpretation of the dreams
of the family of expectants, whose roving
imaginations while they sleep, always portray
scenes of gayety, and shadows of
nothing when awake.—In short, what is life
but a dream?—the busied and insignificant
never awake.

The young ladies took a ride with my nephew,
to the Ballston springs; and they were
much entertained with the company. Persons
do not altogether resort to the springs
for their health: various other motives induce
them—lovers meet their adorables; lawyers
meet their clients face to face; speculators
their Tristram Shandys and Peregrine Pickles,
and many glittering fools of quality, seek
pleasure, if possible to be found. The sons
of Esculapius have little to say or do; the
flowing of the water down the thorax (or
prima viæ) excludes any necessity for Dr.
pills: and when Plutus is dismantled, 5(3)r 53
they all fly to their respective homes, perfectly
cured of idleness and folly.

Returning across the Hudson, my nephew
saw the time fast approaching that he must
leave Miss Emily, never, perhaps, again to
see her. He revolved in his mind what
manner of behaviour he should adopt to
convince her of his attachment;—she is too
sensible to believe every idol tale that may
be told her, and has too penetrating an eye
not to discover real affection.

“The eyes,” says Seneca, “are the windows
of the soul;”
and I have no doubt in my
mind of the truth of it. Various were the
sensations that perplexed the lovers. It was
certainly a first and a reciprocal attachment,
and not easily overcome by absence; no, that
would only increase it. He advanced towards
her, and in a pensive manner thus addressed

“Will you, my charming fair, be so indulgent
as to hear my painful tale? Many, I am
told, are the ills of life that we are doomed to 5* 5(3)v 54
endure. I am young, and surely nothing can
distress the mind more than hope delayed.
Reason prompts me freely to speak to the arbiter
of my fate. But, alas! how can I? my
tongue falters, and I shall illy grace my cause
in speaking for myself.”
She replied, “This
is the grand prerogative of your sex: you
can speak; but woman oft pines and sickens;
she dares scarcely even think; she whispers
to the wind, and vainly strives to subdue the
feelings of nature; she flies to amusements,
company, and all inviting occasions to make
her forget herself; but time alone can relieve
her: while man, roving from sweet to
sweet, feels not the sting.”

The day at length arrived, when we were
to return to New-York; the confusion was
evident on seeing the young people take
leave of each other. My nephew took a lock
of Emily’s auburn hair, as a memento of his
attachment. We hastened on our journey;
did not stop at Croton on our return, as my
friends were opposed to it from motives I before

5(4)r 55

How satisfied the mind appears on returning
home after an absence of three weeks!
every thought tends to cheer you; I was called
to the door by a rap; a man of dejected
appearance delivered me a note from Miss
Sarah Nimble
, at Croton, in which she
stated, that in eight or ten days she and her
sister intended to pay us a visit.

Thunderstruck, my nephew George Washington
and Miss Frances Abercrombie,
were not pleased at the sight of this note.
“How embarrassed, my dear aunt, shall we
feel when they approach! I hope my friends
from Poughkeepsie will not be here at the
same time.”

“My dear young friends, we must endeavour
to make life easy. God made us all. We
must strew the path of those that are in trouble
with flowers; then we shall obtain, as
Solomon wisely observes, ‘a good name,
which is better than riches, and more to be
desired than fine gold.’”

The ladies at length arrived from Croton, 5(4)v 56
gayly decked in all the colours of the rainbow,
and their blooming cheeks beautiful.
They were, as usual, cheerful and entertaining,
noticed every thing; and, I dare say, will
never forget the smallest occurrences that
took place. A fortunate event took place in
New-York. Just at their arrival, the theatre
was opened, and the Cataract of the Ganges
was to be represented. I persuaded some of
my young friends to accompany them. A
second grand event took place, which I leave
to the reader’s imagination, like Sterne in his
writings, where he speaks of “remise doors,”
&c., which to this day has never been understood
in the manner he intended.

All the gay inhabitants in New-York, on
a fine day, parade through Broadway to the
post-office, library, reading-rooms, steam-
boats, and auction-rooms; and all have their
various pursuits, young and old, bond and
free; and from their swift movement, you
would suppose time too short for all their

A gentleman from Egypt, meeting me one 5(5)r 57
morning coming from church, thus addressed
me: “Your most obedient, Madam.” I did
not immediately recognize him. “I am
Counsellor Blackbean, who had the pleasure
of meeting you on Long Island, at the races;
the beautiful Miss Deiademia Drelincourt was
there; you were one of the liveliest persons
in company.”
“Oh, sir, I ask your pardon,
I now recollect you.”

“Madam, I have several articles that I
brought with me; if would do me the favour
to accept them, they are entirely at your service.”

“I fear you will rob yourself.” “Not at
“Of what use, pray sir, will they be
to me?”
“The greatest possible; the first
curiosity is a pair of spectacles, which by
looking through at the face of a gentleman or
lady, you can discover their good or bad
qualities, the peculiarities of their temper,
and their predominant passions. They
are not like Moses’ spectacles sold at the fair,
for they were only valuable for their silver
rims—these, for their intrinsic worth.”

5(5)v 58

The Miss Nimbles having paid a social
visit, and endeavoured to make it as agreeable
as possible, I regretted I had not an opportunity
of introducing them to such characters
as would be agreeable to their ideas; there
being none in my circle of acquaintances; this
was extremely unpleasant; I assured them I
should look out for city beaux, as they slighted
their country acquaintances.

We condescended to see them safe in the
stage, and were agreeably surprised to meet a
friend from Arkansas territory, who was
formerly one of our quadrille parties. He assured
us that the jaunt should not exceed six
weeks, and at his return he would make our
house his home. My family was now happily
relieved from such company as was disagreeable
to them.

Miss Frances Abercrombie one fine morning
requested me to relate to her the history
of Miss Josephine Claibourn, which I had frequently
promised. In reply, I told her it would
require a long time to relate it; at a future day
I should be happy to gratify her. My nephew 5(6)r 59
then entered, and seemed very happy; he assured
me Mrs. Prodigal and her lovely daughter,
had just arrived from the country; he met
them in the Park going to the museum; had
offered his arm to Miss Emily, which she accepted;
and they had been much entertained
with the sight of many great characters of the
revolutionary war. One of distinction, among
the group, was the good general Sinclair,
who, had he survived to see the present day,
would be much surprised to see the grandeur
of the American people. The ladies entered
very soon.

Mrs. Prodigal is truly amiable—the delight
of young and old; her daughter will never
be so pleasing: she entertained us with the
conquests she made of the officers of the British
army during the revolution; who, said she,
to speak truly, were more engaged in company
with the ladies of New-York, than trying to
conquer the colonies. They often amused
themselves in riding on Long Island, particularly
the Hessians, who were well skilled
in stuffing birds, and playing on various instruments
of music; most of them being excellent 5(6)v 60
performers; and had fortune been propitious,
many, very many, would never have
left this fine country. Their steady habits would
always have secured them a competency, and
by a moderate share of industry, would have
acquired wealth. The females are very submissive
to the advice of their husbands, and
pay them every due respect, as lords of the

A jaunt was then proposed by my nephew,
which was agreed to by the ladies to visit the
Linnæan garden, at Flushing, accompanied
by an acquaintance of ours, Colonel Fitzempty
and Major Flash, formerly belonging
to the Pennsylvania line, both gentlemen of
figure and fashion. Miss Matilda Ann
Van Schoten
and Arabella Somerfield were
also of the party.

Joy sparkled in the countenances of the
young people. They expressed a wish to
visit some of the old Knickerbocker families.
I promised them that on a future day, when
I should be at leisure, I would show them
some of Miss Claibourn’s remarks, and her 6(1)r 61
humorous descriptions would no doubt please

Colonel Fitzempty was all hilarity and
good humour; particularly attentive to Miss
; who, as I have before remarked,
possessed all those engaging accomplishments
that were desirable in a young lady, and a
goodness of heart beyond her sex.

My nephew let no opportunity escape, that
offered, to convince Miss Emily Prodigal that
his passion was sincere; and her countenance
was ever the same. No sensations that
rose in her mind were visible in her face: of
course, her lover could never flatter himself
that he was agreeable to her. Her words
must fix his destiny, for indeed she was very
choice of them.

Poor fello! he had a hard card to play:
hearts were trumps—he had difficulty to gain
the odd trick; or, more plainly speaking,
winning the game. Every amusement that
the country afforded was enjoyed by the ladies.
Major Flash was so exquisitely genteel Vol. I. 6 6(1)v 62
that nothing could imitate his style and manner.
He would often indulge in the following

“A moist atmosphere always affects my
pericranium, and causes such palpitations
that I often think my life in danger. Doctor
advises me to keep myself from
indulging sensations that may create trouble
to my mind, so as to occasion tremours and
other inviting disorders to send for the doctor.”

The party now amused themselves in the
Linnæan Garden, gazing at the flowers, and
inhaling their odoriferous scents, that were
presented to them.

The party were then anxious to return
home. Like our first parents, they were not
content even in Paradise, but were even more
anxious to obtain knowledge.

On our arrival in New-York, the guns
were firing at the approach of our national
guest; of whom too much cannot be said; it 6(2)r 63
is sufficient for me to say, that all hearts
were pleased, and all great personages had an
opportunity to distinguish themselves.

I had promised the young ladies, that I
would slightly mention a few observations
that I had made on the amiable young lady,
that would in a future page amuse my fair
readers, whose interesting narrative will,
perhaps, please those who hurry through
life, and never appear happy.

How cheerful should young ladies always
appear!—they are the loveliest gift of the Supreme
Being; they should honour Him,
and by all engaging, endearing means, soften
their manners, so as at all times to delight
the other sex, who appear always, many of
them, as though the world which is round
was on their backs, having such a load of
cares, and so many circuitous windings in
their business, that often entangle them so as
not easily to be extricated by usual means.

While amusing my friends at supper, an
old gentleman from the interior of the country 6(2)v 64
was asked in; he apologised for his late
visit, saying the steam-boat had just arrived,
mentioning he had a letter for the lady of the
house, from Pequest. The sound was melodious
to my ears, being the place where most
of my relations reside, and where in my
infancy I was taught, that as our first behaviour
is, so our characters will be stamped.

When pride is too visible in our appearance
by haughty, austere looks, we never
will be agreeable in society, but shunned, as
approaching contagion. In my childhood I
was taught to venerate age, to love those of
my own years, and freely afford all the satisfaction
to the mind of my friends, as would
again induce them to see me. My gayety of
heart was always evident, when I could meet
such as were suitable, who were animating;
but who did not, as is the prevailing custom,
ask too many questions: some questions it is
not always agreeable to answer.

I assure you, my dear friends, I have met
with many worthy people, that I could compare
to nothing but a teacher hearing the 6(3)r 65
catechism. “Pray Madam, how old are
“Not quite fifty, Sir.” “That
being the death’s-door of the ladies, surely
you look charming.”
That is a sufficient
apology, they think, for their flattery; and
quickly reply,—“Bless me! you do not look
more than forty.”
Then vanity steps forward
and erects her beak; instantly all the gayety
of youth is assumed, singing, dancing, joking,
and every thing becoming youth. The
age of fifty is thrown aside by empty compliments.

The old gentleman that arrived in the
steam-boat handed me a letter; it had a humorous
superscription, was carefully folded,
and directed—“Mrs. C.B., widow, of New-
. These with care and speed.”
I instantly
knew it was from a man by the direction
of his wife, that had a great opinion of
her knowledge, and a great friendship for
me, which was of a nature never to be forgotten.
Our situations in life were very different;
but these good people never disquieted
themselves about that; they openly
indulged in the full flow of goodness, which 6* 6(3)v 66
was alive in their bosoms, and which, I have
every reason to suppose will continue until
the lamp of life is extinguished. How grieved
I felt, at their remembrance of me; for I had
not in years seen them;—every pleasing
theme, every delightful sensation that had
been felt by me when I was young, arose in
my bosom. Who can say, that true and
sincere friendship will wear from the mind?
Here is a complete contradiction of it—no
interest prompted them to write, no pride to
show their education, and no motive but sincerity
and friendship.

What an inestimable gift it is to know how
to prize a friend! Many, ah, too many, pass
through this vale of life without knowing
friendship—no kind feelings for any of the
human race—they love only themselves.—
When fortune smiles, as she often does,
on these selfish characters, they feel themselves
independent of the world, and care not
for it.

To return to my correspondents. Their
letter was singular in style; nothing I had 6(4)r 67
ever read was so expressive of what they
intended to convey, and yet it evidently appeared
that they could neither of them sufficiently
convey their meaning. The contents
were as follows: Dear Widow,My wife and myself have disputed frequently
about family affairs, such as killing
bees and hiving them, gathering Solomon’s
seal, golden thread, and spignut for the doctors
of New-York. We are continually jarring
with each other, particularly about the
virtues of the different plants. I say to my
wife, somewhat in anger, (for I am a positive
man) ‘though I live in a small house, thank
God, it is my own: I will maintain my dignity!
and not stoop to be controlled by feeble
woman!—that I never will. Should
swarms of bees alight on my head, I would
be the same: not even the stings of wasps
could alter my resolution of being head of my
cottage in the vale.’
‘Why Snubbs’, says Susan, ‘how often you 6(4)v 68
contradict yourself in one week!—ah, in one
day: after you have been looking in the woods
in vain for swarms of bees, you will come
home quite exhausted, and call me honey.
You have been so engaged you forgot; and
sure how condescending you are while food
is preparing for you by my own hands; then
you are all submission and good will, and
I then think myself head of you and
all things.’
The next hour, when the appetite
is satisfied, how changed the scene!—
then dark looks with a frowning aspect!
As we have no children, we must then begin
and fret each other, and see who shall rule
the roast. I then laugh at the change, and cry
out how imperfect is man! It appears he is
not quite finished, always restless, for an addition,
he knows not what. Happy would
it be if we could find, in our researches for
healing plants, some yet unknown and undiscovered
root that would quiet the raging
temper of many of the human species.
Then would joy and felicity be the portion
of many who now spend their days in
grief and trouble. After all this preamble,
my friend John has wrote to you, madam, 6(5)r 69
with no other motive, but to inquire after
your health and the situation of your family.
Now do gratify us with a short detail, if you
have no inclination to write a long letter, and
in return we will communicate every pleasant
occurrence that takes place in our neighbourhood;
who rises and who falls; who rides
and who walks, and all other interesting matters,
which none but the inquisitive want to
know. And believe us, dear lady, with all
our good wishes, your friends,
John Snubbs and
Susan Snubbs.
N.B.—I forgot to say do come and see us.”

My nephew remarked that they must be a
romantic couple; they spend so much time in
the woods; they reminded him of days of

Are you not much entertained with their
knowledge of the human heart? Do you not
think them very intelligent?

6(5)v 70

The agreeable company all coincided in
their just observations on the human heart;
and all acknowledged that there was a void
in life that never seemed to be filled in any
station: all seemed in pursuit of wealth or
fame; though ofttimes many made themselves
quite ridiculous; particularly many
characters of the present age: all now appear
in hurry and confusion—honours conferred
where they were not expected; while the
truly valiant are quite forgotten. Laurels
deck the brows of the aged, who do not enjoy
them; while many youths seek in vain
for honours.

The old gentleman had been long silent;
and then, as though the spirit moved him—he
began: “Will you, ladies and gentlemen,
pay a little attention to my short story?”

They all agreed; and after taking some wine,
he related to them many scenes of his past

“I have, since my youth, kept a journal
of what passed, particularly what related to
myself, and was always desirous to know how 6(6)r 71
it happened to others. I never have been
married; the only reason I assign for that is,
I never had a friend to assist and recommend
me, and not being bold enough to introduce
myself, I am now alone, and have escaped
many afflictions that are inseparable from that

“My eldest sister was a very religious woman;
she always advised me to read good
books, pray often, and seclude myself in a
great measure from society. All this I did,
and have ever found a satisfaction in being
alone, for one never sees any thing when
he is alone to hurt his feelings. I am
of opinion that a person secluding himself
from the world is the happiest of the creation:
then the mind has an opportunity to reflect.
Those who live in a bustle, on the contrary,
never have the satisfaction of the good
things of this life: one scene is no sooner passed
than another obtrudes, so that I can truly
say, those who are polite and reserved, and
interfere not with other’s business, public or
private, escape much anxiety. One morning
as I was crossing Spruce Run in Hunderton 6(6)v 72
, I met a beautiful young damsel, and
thus saluted her: ‘Where are you going?’
‘Not far, sir?’ ‘What may your name be,
if I may be so bold?’
‘Never mind that, if I
would be so free, she replied?’
‘What! not
tell your christian name? that looks unkind;
will you then gratify me, by telling
where you live?’
‘I have no home—the
world is all to me a dreary waste; and I envy
no one their comforts. Unfortunately I placed
my affections on one of the flattering train
who is now roving: if he but keep from my
presence, I shall not mourn his absence. All
that consoles me is, I never loved him—my
family’s solicitations made him familiar, and
induced him to believe his person and visit
agreeable. A fair outside is always a first
recommendation; the face attracts, but the
mind conquers. He oft times boasted of
beauties that he never saw, and I believe fancied
raptures that he never felt. Proteus like
he could change his shape,—in truth, young
and old were in raptures with his behaviour.
My father was a collector of taxes; his business
required him to be much from home;
my mother was aged and infirm, and conducted 7(1)r 73
the farm, which was not large, in my
father’s absence. He had frequent opportunities
of seeing me. My father’s business
was lucrative; and as he was always cheerful
in company, never knowing want, our
house was always lively. My lover, whose
name it is not necessary to conceal, was
Ahasuerus Palafox, and while my father was
gathering pounds, my lover was offering his
heart to me. Having very little knowledge
of the world, I thought all his words were
sincere, and all his behaviour becoming. We
were united for life; but my husband has become
quite indolent, and I support myself by
amusing travellers with fairy tales of my own
invention. I met an old gentleman, and thus
addressed him: “If you wish to know your
destiny, show me your hand, sir.”
“Oh my
fair wanderer, (for I know not your name,)
I am too far on the road of life, and too near
my journey’s end, to wish any one to inform
me what I am to meet, even should I have
confidence enough to suppose that you had
flawed-reproduction1 or 2 letterse charm, which I never can believe.”
old gentleman,”
the wanderer replied, “your
wisdom about fifty years ago might have been Vol. I. 7 7(1)v 74
beneficial, but it is of no use or advantage in
the present day, as the words of the aged and
their advice are quite disregarded, and soon
forgotten, in the present age of liberty and
I then bid her adieu, wishing her
safe across the Spruce run, which meanders
in such a manner, that you cross it nine times
in one mile and a half.”
“I fear,” said the old
gentleman, “I have too long obtruded on the
patience of this agreeable company; and madam,”
addressing himself to me, “I beg ten
thousand pardons. I hope I shall be the bearer
of an answer to Mr. and Mrs. Snubbs from
you, which I am certain will afford them conversation
for life, as they never forget any
thing you say or write that comes to their

I begged him to excuse me for some time,
as I had several letters to answer; and was
indebted one or two, to Miss Josephine Claibourn,
at Zainsville, Ohio, who intends visiting
New-York next spring, to make some
inquiries respecting the Knickerbockers,
whose history has been hitherto quite fabulous,
though affording at the same time a 7(2)r 75
fund of entertainment, to the great enlightened
emigrants from all parts of the old world,
whose ears and eyes when they first land in
this free country are quite disappointed.
They wonder how we can make cent. per
cent., and they now send their brightest geniuses
to settle among us, who are so delighted
with the country that they care very little
about the first born in the land. They sometimes,
when Bacchus fills the bowl, forget
to toast the fair daughters of Columbia; then
their spirits rise, and a love of the country
that they have left, their wine, their oil, their
olives, and cheese.

Then they are continually sounding in the
ears of the Knickerbockers, (while it is said
they are grunting at their feasts,) all the dainties
they feasted on before they left home,
which really astonishes the natives of this vast

The party all now dispersed, and left my
nephew, George Washington Claibourn, to
amuse me with his observations: dear aunt,
how pleased I should be, to hear from our 7(2)v 76
friends at Washington, Tawnytown, and the
Ohio; I think paper must be scarce, they write
so seldom; you will ere long, if I am not mistaken,
receive a volume from that country,
and I hope it will be entertaining. In the
mean time I will endeavour to amuse you
with some tales:

Squire Simpson, a fine robust looking man,
about forty years of age, rather corpulent, and
active in agricultural pursuits, invited his willing
neighbours to an entertainment in his
house. His wife, who was born at Hacketstown,
near Schooley’s mountain, was of respectable
parentage. Her father being a methodist
preacher, of the name of Percy, his
daughter Joanna Percy, was always dutiful
to his commands in every respect, which was
a great solace to him in his declining years.
At her marriage with Squire Simpson, the surrounding
neighbours were all invited to the
nuptials, particularly Thomas Sawdust their
landlord, who kindly lent them his bald filly
to bring their relatives to the wedding, it being
some distance over the mountain where
their friends resided.

7(3)r 77

On this jocund occasion all apparently, old
and young, seemed pleased. The Squire
was dressed in a fine broadcloth coat, manufactured
in his own family.

It ran three yards and a half to the pound,

And had just three yards in it.

It was of a beautiful snail colour; his
waistcoat was sagathee, and pantaloons fearnought.
The pockets contained an agreeable
portion of necessary change, to make life
agreeable: which no poet or philosopher
would despise, and which the banks are so
overloaded with, to the great envy of empty
pockets, and many shrugging gentlemen.

Miss Joanna Percy was in the twenty-fifth
year of her age, of a sandy complexion, with
bright blue eyes, indicative of good temper;
her figure was majestic. In her manner,
there was a peculiar turn to every thing—always
viewed the best side of things, and was
never intentionally known to give offence.
In her dress she was fanciful, and always first
in fashion on the mountain. Her wedding 7* 7(3)v 78
dress was white pompadour with white trimmings;
a small round hat, in shape of a
pumpkin, with a morocco girdle around her
slender waist; her slippers were weaselskins,
beautifully embroidered, and shaped like

The reverend divine, her father, was pensive,
notwithstanding the hilarity of the company.
Her mother, an ancient lady, was
born in Nantucket, of the family of the
Whales; several of whom fell in the revolutionary
war, which induced those who survived
to remove to this place, where they
lived respected.

The management of his domestic concerns,
and the education of his daughter, he left to
his beloved partner. Things being arranged
for the great event, which was to take place
on the twenty-fifth of November, that being
a day of public festivity in remembrance of
the evacuation of New-York by the British,
in 17831783, which reinstated the old ancient
inhabitants to their places of former grandeur.
It may well be imagined that they were much 7(4)r 79
pleased, after seven years’ absence, to again
enjoy pleasures that are only to be found at

Among the guests that were invited, were
some gentlemen that had been exploring the
ground intended for the canal between the
Delaware and Hudson rivers, they being men
of knowledge and probity. Miss Bowlsby,
daughter of Counsellor Bowlsby, or Derbyshire,
England, was also a guest. Her father
emigrated to this country some years ago to
acquire wealth, leaving all his family, who
were in the haberdashery line, to remain in
the same state and condition that they had
been in since George the Third’s reign—and
no prospect of aggrandizing themselves.—
Queen Caroline’s disappointments and vexations,
and the troubles she met, were a constant
theme with the old barrister. He said
that had he been in Brougham’s place, he
would have pleaded more powerfully. The
Counsellor was a distant relation of the late
Curran, and a correspondent of the great
Phillips. One of the ladies that was to be
at the nuptials, was a Miss Fairclow, very 7(4)v 80
shrewd, but rather haughty to be agreeable
in the country, where freedom and familiarity
is the greatest recommendation for a young
lady to the young opulent farmers.

The house of the Rev. Mr. Percy was on
the top of the mountain, near Schooley’s
Mountain Springs
, the resort of all the fashionable
people of New-York, Philadelphia,
and the other different states, at the season of

Mr. Percy’s house was rather in the Gothic
style, surrounded with handsome arbours;
there was a large room on the first floor, set
apart for devotion, which afforded the neighbours
a good opportunity to see each other.

’Squire Simpson, from Mansfield Woodhouse,
now approached the dwelling of his
expecting fair one, with all that ardour that is
usual on such occasions; and with joy beaming
in his countenance, addressed his fair one
thus: “How tedious is time! in some cases
it is said it is on the wing, and admits no delay.
Not so with the expectant lover—to him it
appears to stand still.”

7(5)r 81

The twenty-fifth of November at last
came; it was a smoky day, and what is
termed an Indian summer. All the parties
assembled, and the whole group made a very
splendid appearance, each endeavouring to
outshine their neighbour. At length the
solemn moment arrived; and the gentle
’Squire led his lovely fair to the altar of Hymen.
All silence prevailed while the ceremony
was performing; and all the avenues
to the house were filled to witness the ceremony.
When finished, one of the guests
hastened and snatched the first kiss, which
quite discomfited him, and he felt quite confused.
This passed over, and supper was
announced; after which was a dancing scene.
Old Tony (the fiddler) was engaged, and
asked, “what shall I play?”“Come Haste
to the Wedding
“Oh, massa, I can’t play
dat—’tis too old.”
“Then play, Merrily
Dances the Quaker’s Wife
All the swarthy
race play that tune in a high strain. So the
gay assembly shook each other, and crossed
hands, and then right and left, and right and
wrong, until completely fatigued; for in the
country they really labour when they dance; 7(5)v 82
and those who fatigue themselves most are
considered the best dancers.

Miss Mayberry, a neat young lady from
the River Lehigh, Pennsylvania, with a fine
florid countenance and clear black eyes, a
real topaz necklace around her neck, was
also of the company. She attracted much
notice at this splendid wedding; and, what
added to her charms, she was perfectly silent
—seemed formed for admiration. A lieutenant
of marines, who had been at the Brazils,
and travelled greatly, was at the Mountain
for his health. His person was quite
outlandish—so he excited some remarks and
mirth among the company at the mountain,
who, to do them justice, considered themselves
the tops of the country, and made
shrewd remarks on this outlandish dandy.

The ladies said he “looked like a toad under
a harrow,”
and they scrutinized him.
This Brazilian hero’s neck was not unlike a
crane’s for length. Thus ended the Schooley


Chapter III.

Story of Jemima on the Catskill mountains, and her
conversation with the great gentleman respecting
the disposal of her property; also a picturesque description
of the Pehatconk, in New-Jersey.

I now requested my nephew, in turn,
to relate me some entertaining events that
had appeared to him in his travels. He accordingly

“Last month I was travelling the interior
of the country, not far from the Catskill
; I became acquainted with an old
lady, whose name was Jemima; she was always
hospitable and kind. There were three
or four gentlemen travelling through the
country on a hunting party. They espied a
good well near the road. They threw some
rubles at Jemima’s feet, and asked for a drink;
their appearance caused her to smile assent.
The men and beasts drank in silence, as great
men sometimes are treated at splendid entertainments. 7(6)v 84
One of the gentlemen requested
she would give him a short history of her
life. Jemima answered cheerfully, that she
would. She began: ‘This is the place of
my ancestors; here I was born; but cannot
tell where I shall end my existence. This
small inheritance is my own: I neither worked
or toiled for it; it was bequeathed me by
my great grand father, Cornelius Van Schoningan;
he being determined it should remain
in the family, and has entailed the property.
My sister has a daughter, who bears my
name; and was I convinced she would not
marry a Scotchman, an Irishman, a Yankee,
or a lawyer, I would, on these conditions,
leave my farm to her; but she will not promise
me, she says, who she will marry. Why
aunt I can’t promise; the men promise, and
flatter, and we believe them. Poor silly girls!
how can we know the truth? Till ofttimes it
is too late, as the poet expresses, When lovely woman stoops to folly,And finds too late that she’s betrayed;What art can sooth her melancholy,What tears can wash her grief away? 8(1)r 85
As sure as my name is Jemima, my little property
shall be secured to ages yet unborn,
who perhaps will know better how to take
care of their substance; nor will I give it to the
Greeks, a people that I heard Denis M‘Murphy
say, who had been amongst them, was a
wise fighting nation, though not capable of
taking care of their property, or they would
not send here for help. He is wise indeed
that can keep his own, and have something
left for the poor.
It is now sixteen years since I lost my husband,
and fearing lest I should never meet his
like again, I told my friends I would never
again be bound. The country all mourned
for him. I shall say no more on this painful
subject. Now, gentlemen, when you return
to Greece, Nova Scotia, or Botany Bay,
I hope you will not ridicule an old American
woman, because she is ignorant of every thing
but taking care of her property, so that it
shall not pass to unworthy characters.’”

With the American women, if you please,
you may pass your life agreeably. A little
flattery, I am sorry to say, is always Vol. I. 8 8(1)v 86
agreeable to them, being so indulged in their
youth by their parents, for fear their health
might be impaired. I have known many a
mother risquing her life in parting with some
garment in cold weather, to make her only
child comfortable thinking she had but a short
time to live. The tender passions in this new
country are in full bloom. In other parts of
the world their hearts are more callous, more
selfish, more wise. “My dear aunt,” my
niece often says, “I can no longer entertain
you, being so absorbed with my own feelings;
and am wretched beyond expression.
If the healing balm of consolation is not immediately
applied to my aching heart, I must
be forever miserable.”
“Fie! fie! youth!
be firm, and subdue the weakness that now
overtakes you; nobly conquer yourself, and
show an indifference to cold apathy; that
kind of indifference which the loveliest of the
sex show man when she is not disposed to
please. I allow it is more painful than the
sharpest words,—as it leaves the mind in uncertainty,
and harrows our feelings beyond
In the height of this soliloquy, 8(2)r 87
news arrived from Greece, that the kindness
and attention of the Americans toward them
had caused a day of rejoicing and illumination,
which made the youthful inquire what occasioned
all these attentions in the American
people towards us strangers and sojourners.
A priest rose up and said, “Verily, verily,
I say unto you, keep good counsel, and treasure
up what I shall say unto you: We were
of the leaven of unrighteousness; cleave to
each other, in truth and holiness; stand not in
the midst of the streets, like scoffers, but enter
into your peaceful abodes, and say unto
each other what meaning is this?”

After placing all my family, agreeable to
their wishes, near the Castle Garden, and telling
my acquaintance of my resolution to travel for
health and information, they perfectly agreed
to my wishes: when a second friend from
Pehatconk, New-Jersey, made me a visit.

I will describe this beautiful vale to my
readers. It is a most romantic spot: Here
the drowsy shepherd sits nodding by the limpid 8(2)v 88
meandering stream, and the whipperwill’s
notes at evening’s close prepares the
mind for tranquillity and rest: here even kings
or presidents might be happy. O sweet Pehatconk!
thy beauties are worthy of Reuben’s
pencil; and thy lofty trees the sublime
pencil of a West might endeavour to imitate in
vain. How exquisite the sensations that arise
in the mind on beholding this spot! No
moralist, with all his knowledge can describe
them. “Plato, thou reason’st well;” but all
thy power would fall infinitely short to make
known the feelings that fill the breasts of the
ambitious of the present enlightened generation,
who rapturously ascend the summit,
where Fame sounds her trumpet either for
war or laudable pursuits. Man, bold man,
may extend his expanded arms, and try to
reach the passing clouds; but, alas! too oft
he sinks, by aspiring beyond his abilities, and,
like a balloon not sufficiently inflated, sinks,
and is seen no more. Such are the changing
scenes, from lofty heights to lowly vales.
Oh, then for a full bowl from the river of
Lethe to banish sorrow.

8(3)r 89

In the country around this pleasant valley
were many captivating females of nice discernment;
among the number, was Laura
Ann Bevers
—her easy manner gained my
attention. There was not that rustic and
natural simplicity so often met with in the
farmers’ daughters; her mind seemed more
enlightened, and her pleasant retirement was
inviting to strangers.

I passed one night there. At early morn
we were awakened by the lowing of the
cattle; the sportive lambs ranged the dewy
lawns, to delight themselves. Miss Bevers’
father was very diligent in finding out the
virtues of American plants, selecting those
that would be most beneficial to mankind.
The slippery elm, he considered a grand
cataplasm, and Solomon’s seal a mild pectoral,
and boneset a grand sudorific. How
beneficial would his researches have been,
had he the European knowledge of displaying
their efficacy! His name, like Boerhaave
and Cullen, would be handed down to posterity.
From the balsamic powers of these
tinctures, essences, gums, &c. a catalogue of 8* 8(3)v 90
cures might be expected. The hypochondria
would no more be heard of in this land;
and the aged, who will entertain their friends
for hours with all the pains that frail man is
afflicted with, would then no more be heard.

The wealthy merchant may complain of
drawbacks, speculators and brokers avail
themselves by decretal orders, and idle gentlemen
be amused by poetic effusions; heirs
in expectancy, reversion and remainder, may
amuse themselves at balls, plays, and every
other amusement, to improve themselves,
without incurring censure; but, as Solomon
says, there is a time for all things, therefore,
I shall expatiate no longer on the beauties of
the Pehatconk; but return to the events that
have not long since taken place—the ever-to
be-remembered opening of the sluice gates at
Albany into the noble Hudson; at the same
time hoping the hearts of those who have
been long shut will now be expanded, and
commemorate this event, by some beneficial
means to alleviate suffering humanity, and
speedily erect opposite the stone that was so
handsomely dedicated by a great scientific 8(4)r 91
character, a public edifice to assist the poor.
A cup of cold water shall not lose its reward,
when given in the name of friendship;
we are told in scripture, that the poor shall be
always with you to the end of the world.
The canal boats passing down the Hudson
will always contain a variety of characters
passing to New-York. The best of them
are only meteors of a day. Some, perhaps,
sprawl on Turkey carpets, lie on mockason
Jackson’s pure hair matresses, and feast at
Sykes’ great ordinary; some are money-
changers at the numerous banks, (the great
temple not being yet erected;) some are
orators at the forum in the great marble
house; and many are adorers of lovely women.
Some of their names are placed on
a ticket as candidates for office, at the expense
of all that can be said of them of good
report and evil report: But they all find that
the breath of scandal is as contagious as the
yellow fever.

8(4)v 92

Chapter IV.

The unhappy Simon Plenty, whose lovely daughter was
deceived by Aaron Brown from Saugerchies; the
bitter invectives of the old man, and his reflections
on the youth, who remains obdurate, and will not
marry her.

I again returned to my happy home in
Broadway, the welcome guest of my little
family, who are all inquisitiveness: when I return
I am compelled to promise them some
fairy tales. I told them it would not be long
before I would open my scrutoire, to let them
peruse some agreeable manuscripts I had
there deposited, which I shall amuse my friends
with reading, with their promises, not to criticize
on a young lady who has never been
at court, and knows no deception; sincerity
and truth are her constant maxims.

To engage the attention of my family, I
related a melancholy tale, that happened
while I was travelling through Thakiat up
the North river. While amusing myself one
morning early, gathering mushrooms, I heard
a great barking of dogs, and loud speaking on 8(5)r 93
the public road. Quickly appeared a young
man in custody; the sheriff allowed him to
walk alone. When he first approached me he
looked pale. I thought he was a robber; but
the crime he had committed was a breach of
honour: he was engaged to marry a young
girl, and had deceived her. Her father was in
company, but remained inexorable in his solicitations.
“Say, rash youth! what recompense
will you make for deceiving my beloved
daughter, who pines from morning to eve
on account of your false promises to her?”

“Good old man,” the youth replied, “I
cannot love your daughter—why should I
longer deceive her? Her temper seems overbearing.
At our first acquaintance she appeared
angelic, and I looked upon her as my
second self—one in whom was centered all
that could make life agreeable; but on our
farther acquaintance I think she lost that
heavenly appearance which I at first formed
of her: and why, good sir, while my mind
forebodes that we cannot live happy—why, I
say, provoke God’s anger, by calling him to
witness, that we will spend our days together 8(5)v 94
in constancy, when I am certain we cannot?
I repeat, I cannot, my aged friend, be happy
with your too much indulged daughter; so
do as you please with me—scoff at me, insult
me, imprison me, or whatever else you intend,
but I cannot marry your daughter.”

Simon Plenty, the father of the young girl,
was a miller, and the young man was a
wheelwright; his name was Aaron Brown
from Saugerchies. The old man upbraided
him, and hoped he would want the sweepings
of his mill before he died, for bread to nourish
his proud haughty body, while his daughter
would be feasting out of the tenth of every
neighbour’s bushel, honestly and fairly allowed
by all the surrounding country. “I hope,”
said he, addressing himself to the man, “that
you will be on Ixion’s wheel, for ever tortured,
while my daughter’s fame will rise, as the
wheel of fortune turns. Remember that unforeseen
events continually fall to the lot of
every human being; though this day arrayed
in splendid equipage, surrounded by men servants
and women servants, horses and cattle,
houses and lands, deferred stock, or canal 8(6)r 95
shares, all, all vanish, after a few revolving
suns, and sordid man left pennyless. Though
he be as brave as lord Wellington, or as learned
and beloved as the late unfortunate Emmett,
whose rising fame had reached beyond
human excellence; and at his hard fate, millions
mourn and wipe the unavailing tear, still
man is fallible, and misery may await him.”

The young man sat silent at the severe upbraidings
of Simon Plenty, the miller: he
thus addressed him:

“Unhappy, sir! I feel for the disappointments
of your child, but which I think proceeds
more from pride, than affection: would
you wish me to unite with your family, when
my mind abhors the deed? No, no! I
never will deceive the sex; for as soon as I
discovered an aversion, I frankly owned it.
We read in holy writ, that Jacob served seven
years for Rachel, and afterwards changed his
mind, and served seven years for her sister;
we have there a great example of the force
of love, though one was beautiful, and the
other dim eyed. Our wills and passions 8(6)v 96
are not easily controlled. And I hope that
you may yet see comfort in your declining
years, and wish your mill may from this
day forward run swiftly to the end of time!
and may the dustings and sweepings that you
so honestly reap, descend with the dippings
to your rising generation, who I trust will not
fail, as time elapses, to pursue the manner
pointed out; but not as lovers of learning,
sink deeper and deeper, and let your example
be forgotten: that is too often the case in
the present enlightened generation from other
states, whose custom it is to ridicule the ancient
Knickerbockers; at their annual feast;
and hackney toasts, boasting of their fine wine
and figs, though very careful to suck the juice
of their neighbour’s grapes, and then cry out—
We the wise people from the eastern states,
we that are the heads of your banks, teachers
of your children, and possessors of your
lands; we that are men singers and women
singers, are trying to be planners of your new
exchange—are ridiculers of your ancient
customs, and say we do not inquire into our
neighbour’s business to the neglect of our own.
The peaceable ancient citizens of New-York 9(1)r 97
despise all dissimulation and deception, and
though it may appear to the world that they
have been outwitted by their neighbours, it
was not entirely owing to their ignorance.
Beware, oh, ye men of the east, at such a
triumph; the bravery of the Hollanders has
never been equalled; the signal victories of
the great Van Tromp, plainly demonstrates
the strength of mind the Dutch possess; and
lord Cornberry, late governor of this flourishing
state, formerly a small colony, was very
happy here, for there were none so wise as to
be hung for witches. The learned in the law
then passed their time with their arms behind
them; not as at the present day with rolls of
parchment under their arms—they then tripped
through the short crooked streets, and had
nothing to do but gaze at the multitude.”

A scrivener, as it was called, answered all
the purposes to convey property, and a reverend
dominie to pray for the forgiveness of
their sins. These were the golden days of
the ancient Knickerbockers. Planning was
not then known: the women, if they chose,
were the bankers, and each pulled the cord Vol. I. 9 9(1)v 98
and closed the purse. Not so the present
day; men cannot now take care of their money
—it requires a number to be linked together;
and then they take other people’s business
entirely to themselves.

An express has just arrived from Washington,
with important intelligence; which my
nephew read to me as follows:

“‘After mature deliberation, it is contemplated,
in order to pay the interest of the national
debt, that an immediate tax should be
directed on empty cupboards. The people
then all assembled like the Israelites in the
wilderness, and murmured, until Moses comforted
them. But, alas! we have no remedy.’”

All the citizens of New-York assembled in
the different wards; and those that were most
idle, and eloquent, harangued the multitude of
wise politicians, late hewers of wood and
drawers of water.

Colonel Lookout and Captain Balderdash 9(2)r 99
proclaimed loudly against such an unprecedented
oppression; the widening Maidenlane,
or building the new Exchange was not
so alarming to these sons of Plutus, who,
when disturbed in their minds, at such
approaching evil, seek comfort in a potent
draughts of Pierpoint’s ambrosia, or Bacchus’
nectar, to make them forget the miseries of
life. Too often in such cases, sudden friendships
are cultivated without the least sincerity
or good fellowship, only to pass a moment
forgetful of care and perplexity. And
when reason assumes her empire, then reflection
rises like the mist at early morn,
and damps the genial current of the soul.

I promised to my readers, that I would unfold
to them many letters I had in my possession
from Zanesville, Ohio, with a humorous
account of some ancient families, whose yea
was yea, and nay, nay, and who formerly flourished
in this great city of New-York, which
was then called New-Amsterdam.

The writer, a young lady, has very ingeniously
sought out the truth as near as possible, 9(2)v 100
but hopes that any incorrectness will be passed
over, as her epistles were not intended for
the press. Her friends insisted on her delivering
her remarks as quick as possible. If
not amusing to all inquisitive readers, the
happy few will perhaps find entertainment,
which is all that can be expected.

Many read voluminous books, merely to say
that they have read them, when they are neither
amused nor instructed.

I sincerely hope the following narrative
will so far please as to engage every lady in
America to follow the example of Miss Josephine
, whose descriptive powers
can only be known by those who attentively
peruse them. I shall now remind my readers
of some passing events; the scenes of the
Pehatconk, that I have passed over, still revolve
in my mind.

Laura Ann Bevers, one of nature’s rarest
gifts, pleasantly passed her hours with her
father while he was preparing medicines for
the wretched and infirm. She was formed for 9(3)r101
all good purposes, and was frequently applied
to for some of the secrets of her father’s profession.
Her good nature could not refuse
her inquisitive neighbours: “Go,” said she,
“and search the woods, and endeavour to
discover the virtues of the plants, but never
expect I will ruin my father by revealing his
secrets. I will inform you all I have discovered,
since that is my own knowledge, self-
acquired, for imparting which I cannot be
answerable. Apply your minds to search and
seek; for without application you can never
obtain knowledge.”

Many persons never know their own minds,
and always inquire of some friend for advice;
who, though guiltless, often lead them astray.

Miss Laura Ann bent her mind on information;
and being of retired habits, had every
opportunity of improving herself. I frequently
visited her when returning from Mrs. Dexter’s,
who will, in a future page, engage some
attention, being aunt to Josephine, and sister
to governor Clairbourn.

9* 9(3)v 102

I just received a long letter from Poughkeepsie,
from Miss Prodigal, in her neat style;
every word was emphatic; it took me one
hour before I could comprehend her real
meaning. I find she has so far overcome
prudery as to visit me. She certainly knows
George, my nephew, lives with me, and she
also knows his attachment to her. Her coming
in the steam-boat next week I think is a
prelude to a wedding in the family. If her
mind had not been made up for that event,
she would not have come; and George has
been so silent some time, and never mentioned
he rr name, I think it looks suspicious.

It is woman that seduces all mankind. By
her we are first taught what it is to love. I
resolved to keep a secret, and not name to
him when he comes to dinner the letter I have
received, and see who will speak first. He
certainly corresponds with her, and must
have letters also.

At dinner hour he came in quite silent—
asked if any person had called for him.

9(4)r 103

“Male or female?” I asked. “Oh, I never
have ladies call on me!—you are quite satirical,
Doctor Narcotic dined with us;
he was just describing the right and left ventricle
of the heart—asked me if I had ever
seen the heart of a human being preserved?
“God bless me, no!” said I. “That mine
has often ached, is true, and yet I never had
a wish to see one. Do you think, doctor,
that a love-sick lady or gentleman would
find any relief from seeing a wounded heart?”

“No, madam; but they might find relief
from each other; that is, by pouring in each
other’s bosoms tender expressions.”
are the first physician I ever knew that could
prescribe a remedy for the heart-ache; you
surpass the great Italian doctor, Orsi Cure-
, who advertised remedies for all diseases.
Your fortune will now be made; as soon as
the young people see you, they will give you
all you ask, if you can relieve them.”

My nephew then spoke, after attending
patiently: “I think the practice of physic a
very desirable employment, and had I sufficient
funds to support me, I would immediately 9(4)v 104
commence the study; for what can
afford the mind greater satisfaction than administering
to the sons and daughters of affliction
potent medicines that will heal them?
What is life without health? Only a vapour,
and riches and honours are no satisfaction
without it. I am very desirous to relieve the
wretched; it ever gives me satisfaction;
doubly so will it be when success accompanies
my prescriptions.”

“Ah, my dear nephew, do you think that
studying physic will afford you pleasure? If
so, my purse is at your service. Step, then,
boldly forward; study Hippocrates, Sydenham
and Cullen, and may you be as skilful as
the late ever-to-be-respected venerable Bard,
who was the greatest physician in the city of
New-York. Even when the former inhabitants
would not swallow a pill, or take an
emetic, he by cheering smiles made them
easy and willing. He would say to them,
‘arise from your beds of down, and walk,’
(for there were none of Jackson’s pure hair
mattresses in those days). And then he would
say to them, ‘if I cannot pour down your 9(5)r 105
bosoms a liquid to ease your pains, I will
endeavour to talk you well.’”

Loud rang the bell; a message from the
steam-boat. Miss Prodigal, in company with
a relation, had just arrived. My nephew
soon forgot his studies, and hastened to the
wharf to receive them, and in a few moments
we were all happy. The doctor soon left us,
as he would not intrude, and his business at
the hospital called his attention. Miss Emily
looked charming. The young lady,
her cousin, who was with her, came to be
improved in the fine arts, such as dancing,
music, drawing, &c. The Cataract of the
, a new performance, was advertised
for this evening’s amusement, and the young
ladies, not being quite prepared, and too
much fatigued, did not go. To-morrow there
is to be a concert for the benefit of Mr.
, when he is to sing a new song, called
the Enchanting Pequest; and as I have many
cares on my mind, and many duties to fulfil,
I requested the young company to excuse me.
After their absence, I retired to my chamber
and wrote to a number of my friends, and a 9(5)v 106
long epistle to Mr. Dexter with kind inquiries
about his daughter, whether he did intend
sending her to New-York to improve in
dancing and other accomplishments. I also
wrote to all my friends in Ohio, acquainting
them with the particular occurrences that
took place in our city, and sent them some
new publications, such as the Redgauntlet,
which I have had no time to peruse, and the
Tales of a Traveller, much spoken of. I
could not procure Lionel Lincoln, or the
Leaguer of Boston, to send in time to amuse
them. Carolina Sophia Dexter soon wrote
a very entertaining letter after my inviting
her to New York, with a promise shortly to
see me, if her father and mother could be prevailed
upon to let her come; they were so
busily engaged at present in agricultural pursuits,
she could not be spared. Her mother
was so often called on for advice in all difficulties
of the neighbours in matrimonial cases,
she could not at present think of speaking to

“My mother,” said she, “you know has a
plaister for every wound, and is ever ready to 9(6)r 107
comfort the afflicted: my father’s house is
the resort of all the missionaries, and I often
listen with particular attention, when they
explain the scripture; for I am ashamed I do
not understand what is so essential to my future
happiness. Young people are apt to
ridicule religion; for my part I feel comfort
when I hear a good sermon, I make no boast
of my profession, but invariably feel that there
is a necessity for reformation, but cannot tell
how to begin.”
Carolina Sophia must I think
be good company, as her mother being so
well informed, would never suffer her daughter
to remain in ignorance; I shall now prepare
my mind to see her. Miss Frances is at
present at Catskill, visiting the academy,
where young ladies are taught the languages.
Pray, why not? We read of a Miss Schoraza
in Germany, a very learned young lady; and
if a society could be formed to encourage females
to acquire the languages, and allow
premiums, no doubt the attempt would be
successful; then, in a future day, many shining
females might appear to grace our halls
in America, and snatch the laurels that are
now decking the heads of many who receive,
but do not deserve them.


Chapter V.

Jonathan Slyfox’s history, with a humourous description
of Mrs. Doshy Sproal’s marriage with Deacon
; the marriage articles written by Arthur M‘Ayrthur,
the village lawyer, and his description of
Miss Almira Dexter.

Arise ye American fair, and show the nations
on earth your superiority and greatness;
entwine yourselves, like the ivy, round
the hearts of our rulers, to inspire them to
make laws that justice may take place, and
teach Columbia’s sons to forbear their present
vile practices of entangling one another in
law-suits, which in the end is misery and contempt;
for the most ignorant are the most
stubborn and litigious.

Forbear, my inquisitive reader, to reproach
me for the many promises I have made respecting
the manuscript of intelligence conveyed
to me by my young friend from Ohio;
have patience, and I will tell you all. Miss 10(1)r 109
Emily Prodigal
and her cousin, walked frequently
through the city, as is the custom
with young ladies of the present day. The
following lines were composed by an old disappointed
batchelor, who now shuns the company
of ladies as dangerous to his peace of

On the Ladies of the present day.

The yankee girls, who men most prize,

Neat bonnets make and pumpkin pies,

So very wise have grown of late,

They hasten all to New-York state;

Where lasses, on a Summer’s day,

Are all parading through Broadway;

Seeking what is hard to find,

A husband suited to their mind.

All wasting time in gaudy show

They often meet a dandy beau,

Whose smiling looks, when gazing round

Convince his only aim’s to wound.

The brightest fair, whose father’s stock

Will ever prove a stumbling block;

For no industry will arise,

In men who think they have a prize.

Just from Catskill’s learned place,

With beaming eyes and handsome face,

Vol. I. 10 10(1)v 110

A graceful air in rich attire,

Is what the men do most admire.

Quick the knot is fairly tied,

Which nought but death should e’er divide;

Soon we find that ardent love,

By poverty is quickly drove

To the Aleghany mountains,

There bewailing by their fountain;

Lads and lasses from Broadway,

Teaching youth their A B A.

Miss Emily and her cousin have no particular
business; they sometimes come home at
a late hour to dinner, having walked slow
with books in their hands to make them appear
studious, though quite fatigued with doing
nothing. “Sad, sad girls,” said I to them
one day, “your long stay has been a great
disappointment to me, for as you passed the
City Hotel there were a number of vacant
looking gentlemen staring at the ladies
among the number was one who has spent
three weeks looking for a prize—he could
quickly spy a new face; he saw you both pass
early this morning, and contrived to call on
me, to know if I had any deferred stock to
dispose of. He pretended he was a broker 10(2)r 111
and said he was recommended to me! It is
astonishing the people suppose me to be rich.
I am fond of company, it is true; but many
resort to my house because they think me
wealthy, which gives me daily opportunities
to impose on the world. My hand has been
solicited very often, and my nephew would
wish me to change my situation; but I never
will. I live now to amuse my friends, for
that affords me particular pleasure. I told
him that I was sorry to inform him that deferred
stock did not remain in my possession
long, and that every leisure hour of my life
is spent in endeavouring to assist others in increasing
their stock.”

“I beg your pardon madam,” said he, “for
the intrusion.”
“No offence, I assure you, sir.”
So he marched off much disappointed and chagrined:
I know he feigned this excuse to see
you. “And now, my dear girls, let me entreat
you to be guarded against these lovers of fancy
and seekers of prey, whose wretched situations
hasten them to declare falsehoods and
use hypocrisy and ever other vile method to
gain the hearts of the lovliest of Columbia’s
“We are much pleased,” said 10(2)v 112
Emily, “that we did not see him. We did
not come to New-York to make conquests:
we came to make you a social visit, without
any personal motive.”

The young ladies then took a jaunt on
Long-Island, as far as Satawket, leaving me
to my own reflections.

I was called on by a gentleman of my acquaintance,
who asked my opinion, what induced
so many foreigners to come to our
shores. I told him I once met in company a
Yankee, of the name of Jonathan Slyfox; he
remarked, in his peculiar manner of speaking,
“I guess as how the folks in foreign parts
thinks how we cannot see farther than our
nose, and law for me, that is the reason they
came to larn to catch weasels asleep, but they
had better keep a good look out for breakers,
for we can catch rogues napping.”

This was a Yankee captain from Stonington,
who brought wooden ware and passengers
to the city. He was civil to a high
degree. His female passengers, were not
very sick or silent, and the gentlemen not 10(3)r 113
very stupid or lazy. Among the passengers
were two ladies of distinction, who had been
living at Satawket, and were so well bred
that they could not help themselves to a glass
of water, or any earthly thing.

The captain said to the ladies, “what will
you do when you arrive in New-York? servants
are so impertinent, that the best people
wait on themselves; and they now appear
in handsome dresses and parade through all
the little narrow streets.”

These ladies were originally from St.
, and were accustomed to much attendance.
They seemed petrified when the
captain told them that in New-York, the servants
all try to outshine their mistresses. “I
said one of them, “we must submit
to the customs of the place.”
said the Yankee, “always feasts me
with pies when I return from sea; and
when a stranger enters her house, after giving
him the time of the day, and inquiring all
his business, she quickly lays the cloth, neat
and clean; and what is wanting in good 10* 10(3)v 114
things she makes up in politeness, and communicates
to him all matrimonial engagements
on foot—who is the handsomest young lady,
and greatest fortune in the district: such intelligence
she delights to convey, and often relates
the following tale:”

“‘A description of Doshy Sprowl and Squire
There is Squire Rusty, our opulent
neighbour, has just been married to Deacon
widow, who can spin eight run a
day, and after that go to meeting. She has
more home-made cloths than all the women in
her neighbourhood. She is rather masculine,
and prides herself on her industry. The nuptials
were conducted in a splendid manner.
After the ceremony was performed they attended
church. The Rev. Mr. Rubel officiated;
Miss Peppermint was brides-maid,
and George Preamble, grooms-man. The
remainder of the company were the Blinkensop,
Scammel, and Dexter families. Arthur
, the village lawyer, drew the marriage
articles. For length and strength they
cannot be surpassed, containing five hundred 10(4)r 115
stops, and two hundred and fifty notes of interrogation.
The words are so numerous,
that time would not permit counting them at
present; this has been deferred till the demand
for payment is made. Domine Rubel
read the ceremony with great solemnity, and
Mrs. Doshy Sprowl and squire Rusty seemed
quite sensibly affected. The party then
all assembled at the church, where a great
confusion took place: as deacon Penny was
officiated for charity, the plate by accident fell,
which excited some mirth. The priest began
the following subject from scripture. “It is
not good for man to be alone.”
And he very
ably expatiated on the endearing ties of conjugal
felicity, not omitting to maintain that
the first miracle wrought was at a marriage
supper. The sermon being ended, the company
all dispersed. Miss Almira Dexter, who
was one of the guests, captivated Arthur M‘Arthur,
the village lawyer. He gazed on her
with looks of love, and added notes of admition
to all her sayings, and then addressed
her in the following tender and expressive
“I consider it, Miss, as the happiest moment 10(4)v 116
of my life, when first I saw you,
and may none of my future moments, I beseech
you, be embittered with your frown.”

“Ah!” she replied, “you remind me of some
lines addressed by Miss Betsy Thoughtless to
her lover:”
“The humblest lover when he lowest lies, But kneels to conquer, and but falls to rise.” “I do not think, my fair charmer, that those
lines are applicable to me; if any part of my
character, or my person is not pleasing to you,
do not, by cruel suspense, forbear to mention
it. If my profession is disagreeable, or if my
family, who are desended from the O’Rourkes,
should be objectionable to you, let me know
it before the great equinoctial gale comes on,
so that I may be prepared for the shock, and
bravely meet my doom.”
Miss Dexter conveyed her sentiments to
Arthur M‘Arthur, in the following docile
manner: “I fully appreciate the honour you
have done me in admiring my person, and the
offer you have made me of your heart. Be
assured, had not a prior claim been made to 10(5)r 117
the possession of my hand, I should set a true
value on your worth. Words are unnecessarry
to inform you, that I have already disposed of
my affections to a worthy youth. My hand
is not yet linked to his; but he is hourly expected
from Greece, where he went to distinguish
himself in arms. He is the youngest
son of the late general St. Clair, who distinguished
himself in the revolutionary war.
My lover was educated at West-Point; he is
elegant in his person, and improved in mind.
If he escapes the pirates, and returns, my sacred
promise shall be fulfilled. Not all the
wealth of the banks in the country, with their
six per cent. stock, nor all their uninhabited
forests purchased of the indians with notions,
could alter my affections for Sebastian St.
Mr. and Mrs. Rusty retired to Sycamore
; (that was the name of their seat;) it
was situated in a vale not far from Hartford
in Connecticut. The lawn in front was enriched
with handsome shrubbery; at one corner
was a locust grove, and at the other a
pig-pen, a corn-crib, and a fowl-house. The 10(5)v 118
garden abounded with onions, salads, cresses,
endive and thyme.
Deacon Rusty was a very hospitable man;
killed the fattest hogs, made the most cider,
and kept the best house in the valley; and
when mounted on his favourite Eclipse, he
thought himself as great as Lord Wellington.
At his house warming all his friends paid him
a visit, to welcome Mrs. Rusty. A sumptuous
dinner was prepared, which consisted of
the following dainties: At the head of the
table a large pot-pie, with short crust; opposite
a fine ham with sausages; then pumpkin
pies, rice puddings, and a variety of vegetables,
custards, and nicknacks.
The hilarity of the company was evident,
which gave great satisfaction to the lovers.
The ceremony of the nuptials, and the entertainment
being over, all parties retired to their
respective homes, and the happy pair entered
on the several duties each had to fulfil. The
new painting of the house, which was a
smoky brown, was the first occurrence that
took place. The deacon thought that a yellow 10(6)r 119
ochre front, and red roof, would outshine
any other colour, and keep the crows from
alighting on the top of the house. Mrs. Rusty
agreed with him in opinion, though she observed
that her father’s house was never
finished; it was the custom to frame large
buildings, which emptied their coffers, so that
they could never finish the inside, and they
continued so from generation to generation.
As to painting, that was totally out of use,
only the meeting-house steeple, which was
always very high, with a gilded weathercock,
and was painted handsomely.
The next consultation was, who should
choose a handsome picture to ornament the
best room. Mrs. Rusty quickly replied, as
the fine arts ought to be encouraged in this
rich country, she would propose that the deacon
should sit for his venerable likeness, and
engage Mr. Browere to take it. He was
averse to her proposal, and replied, “I should
be better pleased to have General Jackson,
the Hero of New-Orleans, in my best
“Agreed,” replied the condescending
Mrs. Doshy Rusty; “and I think, as 10(6)v 120
second in public estimation, that De Witt
, when planning the Grand Canal,
and Counsellor Emmet, when defending
Greenwich against lawless oppressive men,
would be additional ornaments to our happy
Such pleasing scenes engaged the contented
pair, and they were examples to their surrounding

I have now, my patient reader, fully related
the story as conveyed to me by Captain
, from Stonington, who appears to be
a person of inquisitiveness, and requested of
me to relate to him some humorous tales that
have happened in the flourishing city of
New-York. I then informed him of many
interesting scenes that daily took place in our
courts of justice, to the great uneasiness of
many well disposed inhabitants, whose ignorance
of Blackstone’s Commentaries made
them shun these public meetings. Among
the late events was a trial at court where
there was a difficulty to obtain jurors, as every
inhabitant made an excuse: One had lately 11(1)r 121
married a wife, another was a respectable
grocer, and a third was preparing the new
Westminster Abbey, to bury all those in a
future day, whose friends would be able to
pay for them, with some degree of grandeur.
But after much difficulty they obtained twelve
gentlemen who were willing to be empannelled,
six Dutch and six Irish. Their names
are annexed:

  • Dutch.

    • Lucas Van Orden,
    • Petrous Van Solingen,
    • Hermanus Polhemus,
    • Derick Hovencamp,
    • Clause Van Leven,
    • Bernadus Kuypers.


    • Barney Duffey,
    • Pat Vaughan,
    • Michael M‘Neven,
    • Dominick O’Reilly,
    • Dennis M‘Dowdell,
    • Terence M‘Lochlin.

These gentlemen, being all freeholders and
freemen, severally took their oaths that they
could, if they would, pay twenty shillings on
the pound, and recommended that all the human
species should, have it or not, male or
female, do the same, or they would, by all
lawful means, make them, and in the following
manner; that is, threatening, squeezing, Vol. I. 11 11(1)v 122
shaving, or any other powerful manner, trick
them out of their hidden treasures. “Humph,
says Dennis M‘Dowdell, “I have
not eaten since morning, and though it is my
fast day, a good herring and a bit of an
onion would do me; no harm with a cup of
Byrne’s good old Irish whiskey, that has been
advertised ever since the yellow fever was in
New-York. I hope it a’nt all leaked out of
the bung.”

“Poh, man,” said Barny Duffy, “in this free
country let’s away to Niblo’s, near the bank
after it is shut, when the notaries are flying
in every direction, to all parts of the city,
causing the merchants to shake as though
they have St. Vitus’ dance, until, as they regularly
term it, they break to pieces. Let us just
step in, and protest we will eat, if it should
cost twelve shillings, and humbly request the
notaries to pay for us.”

“Never heed, Barny,” replied Dominick
, “fast bind, fast find, I’ll sum up the
evidence, when you are all of a mind.”

11(2)r 123

Pat Vaughan said, “prithee, hold your
prate, can’t you be thinking a little, and not all
spaking your minds at once: just so it was at
Balinahinch, the time lord Edward Fitzgerald
triumphed over the minds of our dear

“Och, if father O’Donnell was here how
pleased he would be, to see us all, some feasting,
very few fasting, in fact all engaged, and
the sweet American girls will be stealing our
hearts, which are softer that our heads, and
we are ready and willing to die for them; if
we can obtain a few canal shares.”

The right worshipful the mayor, then addressed
the Dutch jurors; Bernardas Kuypers
arose: “Friends we are here assembled to enforce
the laws. When Rip Vandam was governor,
very few of us were called to sit as
jurors; but in these enlightened days, vice accompanies
wealth, and pride and folly stalk together.
Excuse my expressions, I was not
educated at the Hague; I obtained all my
ideas and instructions at Erasmus Hall,
Flatbush. The utmost attention was paid to 11(2)v 124
our morals and cleanliness: Tasso and Homer
we seldom studied—Virgil and Cornelius
lay dusty above our cupboards; only
looked into when white-washing took place.
The almanac, the bible, the ready reckoner,
and Buchan’s Family Physician, were all our
Soon after Hermanus Polhemus,
descendant from a Burgomaster in Holland,
arose, and thus addressed the people: “What
is the intention of this meeting, my friends?
It is a folly to spend so much time in nonsense,
for my corn is suffering for the want of hoeing,
and my spouse is never pleased when I
leave home and spend money—if only for a
pot of beer she finds fault; and I think it is always
best to please the women—then all is
well. My father always gave me that lesson.
To be sure, Sorche Polhemus, that is my
wife’s name, is a very prudent good woman.
She never speaks before she thinks, never
eats but when she is hungry, never laughs
but only when the old gray goose has plenty
of goslings: so I think we are a very happy
couple. She does not trouble herself about
states or countries, or who has talents to be
the next president. That’s the woman, as 11(3)r 125
Solomon says, who is a crown to her husband.”
Thus ended Hermanus Polhemus’s

Next rose up Claus Van Leven, a man of
frank open behaviour, and addressed them:
“How satisfactorily,” he observed, “it is for
the mind to be doing good; it makes me
feel hearty, and when in my power, if I can
do a man a good turn, here is at you. No
hems and haws, such as I will think of it, &c.
No, no; such double dealing I despise; I am
right John Blunt, here’s my hand, and if ever
I frown on a poor man, and send him empty
away, I hope my pumpkins may rot, and my
corn-cribs be left open to the rats.”

Claus Van Leven was the best farmer at
Flatlands; he had a lovely daughter, named
Polly, who was the admiration of the village
doctor; her education was somewhat superior
to that of her neighbours. Her mind
was always bent on having a scholar, and no
other pleased her, no matter what profession.
A farmer’s wife she did not wish to be, apprehensive
that they had not those sublime 11* 11(3)v 126
feelings for the sex as she thought she was
entitled to: she was fond of dress. Her fine
flaxen hair was enriched with a wreath of
jessamine, and in her lovely bosom she
always placed some fragrant flowers, such as
the snowdrop, the polyanthus, the daisy, or
whatever was in season.

She seemed formed to please: her light
blue eyes as the azure of the sky shone refulgent,
and she was the delight of her parents.

Next in order was Derick Hovencamp, a
superannuated old gentleman, whose dress
was indicative of his mind. The colour of his
coat was like that the kings of old wore, royal
purple, but no gold on them, nor very fine
linen under them; his hat was of the shape
of Oliver Cromwell’s; a very long waistcoat
of black tabby, and square toed shoes. He
smoked tobacco, which, to keep it moist, he
put in a pouch made out of the bladder of a
large hog, of the Holland breed, imported into
this country by the first settlers at Gravesend,
Long-Island. And after finishing his pipe,
he began: “How pleasant it is to meet all 11(4)r 127
friends together to deliberate what is to be
done for our fellow creatures in trouble and
difficulties; and after that, how we shall increase
our basket and store, and devise means
to encourage our neighbour to lead a virtuous
life, and recommend to those who have confidence
in our advice to divide our time in the
following manner: The first, to glorify the
Supreme Being; the second, commendable
industry, to enable us to acquire a competency
to live above contempt, and to enable us
to smooth the rugged paths of others; thirdly,
to exert ourselves to gain wisdom, to assist in
the government of the country. Shun all
public meetings under any pretence whatever,
that invites man to remove his neighbour’s
land-mark; for look into the human heart,
and there you will find that self predominates.
Envy, pride and self-conceit flow in our bosoms;
and at the misfortunes of good natured,
meek, mild and unoffending persons, our exulting
hearts burst in invectives against them.
Lastly, to diffuse to all around, old and young,
balmy comfort and set an example worthy to

11(4)v 128

Derick Hovencamp was in his disposition
kind and endearing, in manner soft and sympathizing;
he delighted not in hearing of the
losses and crosses of his neighbours, and was
never known to give offence, or even his
opinion who he thought should be the next
ruler of these United States, which have become
the admiration of the world. All he
hoped was that every good man, like Hercules,
would put his shoulders to the wheel, and
assist to make the state of New-York the first
in the Union.

Petrus Van Solingen and Lucas Van Orden
entered the court; a profound silence took
place; when Dominick O’Reilly arose: “My
worthy colleagues,”
said he, “we must now
take leave, relying on each other’s aid, whenever
important affairs call our immediate attention.
Our silver locks remind us, that like
the fallen leaves we must soon perish, and
leave this busy world, where fortune’s smiles
are so uncertain, and death and sorrow sure.
Go, worthy friends, to your welcome homes,
to your tender wives and obedient children, 11(5)r 129
and fervently advise them to shun all appearance
of evil. I affectionately bid you all a
final adieu; and may your evening of life
(we are all here present near the close) be as
bright as the evening star, whose effulgence
illuminates the weary traveller, and serves
him as a guide to his poor abode, where, solitary
and alone, his feeble partner is gathering
some little fragments to prepare a morself to
alleviate his keen appetite.”
It is by the light
of that splendid orb, that the tender partner
of many a weary traveller is enabled to pick
the outer bark of an aged oak that has stood
the shock of perhaps a hundred equinoctial
gales, which, and the barking and fawning of
Pluto on his returning master, gives more
indescribable pleasure to him, than the courtier
receives from his hounds all decked off
with stars and garters on collars of brass, to
distinguish himself, and elate his proud heart.
For, believe me, you will seldom see a man
of great endowments, and easy circumstances,
fond of a dog; he prefers to be alone, and
musing with his own thoughts. It is only
the jolly sportsman, the idle gentleman, the 11(5)v 130
fat butcher, the sullen farmer, to protect his
property, and the merry landlord, when he is
half-seas-over, who are very fond of dogs.
Those, to amuse their pot companions, will
say, “put out your paw—sit upright—snap
the crust of bread;”
—then, oh then, a loud
laugh by the vulgar at the sagacity of the
animal. And they will be far better entertained
than by the recital of one of Lord Byron’s
grand sublime sketches of Bonaparte in exile;
his soft fallen voice and manner, so forcibly
described by the pen of that ready and unexampled
writer, whose flowing numbers fill
the soul with ecstacy beyond the power of
language to paint, and whose imagination
soars beyond human comprehension.

In attempting to amuse my readers, I fear
I have deviated from the subject that is most
pleasing to them; and earnestly request them
to close the book and enter gaily far more
enlivening pleasures, till snow or rain obtrudes
and condemns them to retirement.
Then take up this offering of amusement,
and pass those subjects that suit not the vivacity
of your heart.

11(6)r 131

I must again remind my readers, that
Theodore Dorcy, formerly a druggist in the
city, whose shop at evening made a brilliant
appearance at the corner of the Old Coenties
in this city; where it was lighted with
gas, and the coloured waters in the glass appeared
very valuable to the owner. The
profits being not sufficient, though the pestle
and mortar was in continual use.

He determined to remove to the country
and prepare wild plants, as he knew their
virtues. Previous to his departure, he having
consulted a friend the most proper
place to remove to, he advised him to settle
near the Maskenekonk, Sussex County, New-
. He had in view a place that would
suit him, with a little alteration, and he immediately
moved, as it was then quarter day,
so there would be exact six months for a new
tenant. At his entering his new house, it
was necessary to have some alterations; he
sent for Builder Booby, their neighbour, who
advised to take down the gable end, and at
any time he could enlarge the building when 11(6)v 132
occasion required. At the same time I beg
leave to mention that they were very regular
in their hours of working in the country; all
was sure to let the hammer fall when the
clock was striking twelve.

Theodore Dorcy said to Builder Booby,
“you are as regular then as the Savings Bank
in New-York. This difference only, you do
not save your shavings, they are for the good
of the public.”

After Theodore Dorcy was settled, the
young people in the vicinity insisted that it
was customary for him to give a dance: and
he having a prepossessing daughter of twenty-
four years old in New-York, she would
pass in the country, by being gaily dressed,
for eighteen: and having the good of his
daughter at heart, quickly agreed to give
an entertainment.

When the young company assembled, his
fair daughter’s hand was solicited to dance
by one of the party. “Sir,” she replied, “I am 12(1)r 133
engaged the first four dances: Squire Drowsy
is my first partner; young Fiddle Faddle
my next; George Seabright the third, and
Constantine Noble, a physician, the fourth:
after that I shall do myself the pleasure to
move with you from the head of the room to
the bottom of the dance, with all the grace I
am mistress of, and sincerely hope your patience
will not be exhausted, while I am
figuring with the swains I have been mentioning.
One only, I am apprehensive, will
prolong the dance: that is the doctor, for he
is always trying to make me believe his heart
is bleeding for me.”

The gentlemen of the faculty are always
complaining of wounds and throbbings, and
such a variety of pains, to try to soften the
females, and endeavour to gain them. I mentioned
that Mr. Dorcy was engaged collecting
and curing herbs, having a sufficient
knowledge of their different virtues, and endeavouring
to substitute something for tea.
In this happy country, which we are all fond Vol. I. 12 12(1)v 134
of, and in order to amuse his friends, he composed
the following stanza:

On the Virtues of Tea.

Fair or brown, bond or free,

All alike can sip good tea;

Crumpets light, and nice fresh cream,

Oft casts away both care and spleen;

Gay and great, here at their ease,

Offer tea in hopes to please.

Who would refuse this balmy drink,

Which robs the miser of his chink;

Frenchmen take it when they’re ill,

And Queen Caroline would have her fill.

Castlereagh is gone, you see,

Not by drinking good green tea;

Jefferson ne’er goes to rest,

Not alone, he drinks the best.

I hope on his high mount will be

The place that he will raise good tea.

The ships of Smith will then in vain

Cross the great sea for his sole gain.

Our own rich soil, if rightly hurl’d,

Defies the empire of the world;

The rich return our lands would yield,

If freedom’s sons would till the field.

After a variety of scenes took place in his
family, his fair daughter, among her many 12(2)r 135
admirers was most pleased with Constantine
, whose dress was very singular, as he
frequently amused himself for hours at the
glass, to gratify himself, and render his person
agreeable. It is unnecessary to mention
the colour of his coat; that not being material
to form a beau. The waistcoat and hat
are powerful look-ats.

His waistcoat was handsomely embroidered
by his sister, who got the premium for it,
at the last fair at the arsenal near New-York.
It being a new unthought of material, entirely
American manufacture; no less than the
hairs out of the old family horse’s long tail,
of a beautiful sorrel colour, extracted by the
young lady’s own hands.

Constantine Noble was born in Acomack,
Virginia, and had been in all the academies in
that state; his father being so engaged in raising
fine horses, he had not time to superintend
his children; that task devolved on his
wife, and she likewise had other domestic
pursuits. So they all had their wills and
whims, and were governed by them; and
it is too true, 12(2)v 136 Children from tender years ofttimes do growSo sadly stubborn, not their parents know;As to their wills no opposition went,Then, ah! too late—they never will repent.

The doctor’s father was a very hospitable
man, and extremely polite to strangers, felt a
a pleasing emanation glow in his bosom when
a person was introduced to him. His house,
table, and library were all at their service.

Loud rang the bell at the approach of a
stranger, (not a beggar I mean,) and if well
dressed, that was the first passport, all the
family was then in commotion to welcome

If from the bay of Fundy, so much the
better, as he has a sister lived there; and he
was always partial to persons from that place.
She was the widow of the brave general
, that distinguished himself at the taking
of general Burgoyne in the revolutionary war.
The character of his sister was singular; she
was every thing that could be thought—the
delight of young and old. Her conversation
was cheerful and animating; and when the 12(3)r 137
subject of love was introduced, she was in
ecstacy; that ruling passion, when unrequited,
absorbs the soul and makes man, the noblest
of God’s works, sink into forgetfulness;
his thoughts turn from his daily pursuits, and
makes him like a shadow: but when successful,
and meets a tender return of love for love,
then his exulting heart throbs with inexpressible
emotions, and in pleasing strains repeat
the following lines from Lallah Roohk, And oh, if there be an Elysium on earth,It is this—it is this!

Now, my agreeable reader, I must again
remind you of my nephew George W. Clairbourn,
who I have so often mentioned, and
whose character will appear in the close of this
narrative in all its pristine beauty; where will
also be unfolded a leaf to the engaging youth
of the present day, which I hope they will
read for their amusement, and fold it in their
hearts as a precious memento, and again and
again peruse it, until it makes an impression
that time cannot erase; and may they say to
each other, I am sorry it is ended. If I can 12* 12(3)v 138
in any manner benefit the world with some
of my own observations, then every good purpose
I have in view will be accomplished—
Nothing that is intended for instruction ought
to be ridiculed; for every human being has
some good ideas, and some good traits in his
character, and consequently can be of some
use to society.

My nephew’s life, and the character of his
family, which is at present unknown to himself,
will in a future page, as soon as my
mind inclines me to be communicative, engage
some of your attention. I must, in the
mean time, request your attention to a few
passing events; and one of which is the story
of Baron Tilas, and his adventures and singular
method to obtain a wife; the many difficulties
he surmounted, and his being at last
happy in the enjoyment of one of Heaven’s
best gifts. But previous to giving the history
of his life, I will give an account of an excursion
to Haverstraw:

Joel Fairfax was born in Haverstraw, and
was son of a collier, who had by his blowing 12(4)r 139
rocks, splitting wood, and squatting on other
people’s lands, made himself quite respectable;
so much as to be chosen Parish Clerk
and kept all the country in tune; so that
Old Hundred was sweetly revived, and the
spirit of religion and piety prevailed.

Mrs. Patience Foster, a leading musical
character, struck his attention, by her melodious
voice. She was a gay widow of a
late member of assembly, who expired very
suddenly at Albany, defending the question
respecting the Chemical Bank, which has
lately excited much commotion, and inflamed
the minds of many distinguished characters.

One day as the widow was extending her
voice to the last note, he stopped them all in
the middle of the tune, and cried out “that is
uncommon metre!”
—perhaps to draw the attention
of the ladies was his motive. He
then began beating time with his broad flat
hand in the following manner: Fa, mi, fa, sol.
The females paid great attention and were
in raptures; their tinkling pipes struck up, Who is ashamed to sing to-day,Not one cent we claim for pay;12(4)v140While Europeans guineas win,If they just attempt to sing.Thither, thither we’ll away—All are made of the same clay.

After meeting, Joel overtook some of the
lovely lasses, and having singled out the best
performer, he waited on her home. On entering
the house, she immediately took off
her best clothes, tucked up those that she
thought would be injured by cooking; and
then she was quite at home. Joel sat still,
like Patience on a monument smiling—not at
grief—but, at the hopes of a good dinner. The
pot roared, the family appeared quite reserved,
and Joel was not asked to dinner; but it was
not for the want of hospitality that they did
not invite him—it was pride, for they were
ashamed of their hodge-podge; so he at last
rose to leave them. “What’s the hurry
—and when they saw that he
was going away they began to be very solicitous.
“They will,” he replied, “be waiting
dinner for me at home, just as you are
now waiting,”
and left them, much chagrined.
The next week Joel called again; when they
were better prepared and more friendly. After 12(5)r 141
several interviews he found he was not disagreeable.
In the course of a few weeks Mrs.
Dorcus Green
made herself very agreeable;
and the good clerk, after modulating his
voice, began one evening to touch the strings
of her heart, to find if they would accord
with his own, as all grating sounds were very
offensive to him, he having so good an ear for
music. He requested her to soften her voice,
so as to soothe him, and vibrate with his own
pipes. After an absence of some days he
met her in the sloop Gay Delight, going to
New-York with brooms and wooden ware,
when he softly approached her, and spoke in
the following manner:

“Could you be content, fair Dorcus, in this
gay city, now first in the union? Could
you, I again repeat it, with your lover at your
side, partake of all the inviting pleasures that
appear to you?—bless by your smiles the man
that adores you, and freely accept his offered

She hesitated, and then spoke in a low

12(5)v 142

“Sir, the happiness you promise me by
the offer of your hand and heart seems to surprise
me, as I feel fully sensible I merit not
such an offer. I fear I cannot conduct myself
in the manner entirely to please you.
Having always been governed by my own
will, I cannot say how I will submit to the
direction of another; but if you will risk the
instability of my temper, and prepare yourself
for the whims and caprices that actuate
me in common with so many females of the
present day, I will endeavour to make you
happy. I will rise at early morn and cheer
your roving fancy with some pleasing themes;
relate the pleasant hours of my past life, and
repeat the many observations I have made on
the characters of others; and at the sitting
sun, I will, in dulcet strains, lull you to repose;
and when again I ope my eyes, I will
reveal what in fancy’s dreams delight me,
and you shall listen to the fairy tales.”

He agreed to all her wishes, and they were
cheerfully united, never to be separated until
death close the scene.

12(6)r 143

The happy pair retired to the mountain,
being preferrable to them. Joel, in a reverie,
exclaimed, “there are now many links added
to the chain of our union; if we but keep
them bright, and not suffer, by our supineness,
the smallest link to rust, then let the
Greek, the Englishman, the Spaniard, and the
Jew, see the pleasure the American people
take in brightening the union, and benefiting
each other.”

In the midst of his soliloquy the rain in torrents
began to pour; his cares of life seemed
then to vanish; the roof of the cottage he resided
in, after the deluge, showed its mossy
covering. In their garden the lilies raised
their drooping heads, and appeared to erect
themselves; the sun-flower at this season appeared
in majesty and grandeur; the daisy
seemed not to escape their notice; the ivy
clung to their cottage, and the snow-drop was
their admiration.

“What a variety, my dear Darcus,” said
Joel, “of wild flowers expand in the uncultivated
forests in our state, whose virtues are 12(6)v 144
yet unknown to man, which, if known, would
afford a healing balm to the many ills of life
our feeble frames are subject to. In ancient
days the females administered to the sick, and
devoted much of their time in preparing conserves
and cataplasm.”

A friend of Joel Fairfax’s, from Haverstraw,
came ashore from the sloop Lady Delight,
captain Conklin, just returned from
New-York. He was astonished, he said,
what so many people could be in pursuit of,
and yet seemed to do nothing but parading
the streets; some with spectacles on their
noses without beards on their chins. It reminded
him, he said, of the spies sent out by
David, who were directed to tarry at Jericho
until their beards be grown; others galloping
to the different banks with long meagre countenances,
not knowing what a day may bring
forth; one with hasty steps and keen appetite
is blending his way to Fulton-market,
while another with painful expression demands
the price of perriwinkles; and after
purchasing them, returns to his wretched
home and surly looking matron, who chides 13(1)r 145
him for not purchasing something more palitable.
He replied, “Go yourself next time,
and you will then see your noble brought to

She returned, “lack-a-day man, I am not such an elf,Though I say it myself,I know a sheep’s head from a carrot, a carrot.”
He replied, “And a tree from a book,And a fool from a cook,With a dinner well dress’d,Though not of the best.My friends shall all dine,We will drink Niblo’s old wine—Money, O money, what comfort it brings.”

“Fine times you will have with your pretended
replied his sullen partner,
“but true, I have heard that A friend at call,Oft saves a fall,
to those who do not reflect at the commencement
of a long journey.”

Vol. I. 13 13(1)v 146

George Washington Clairbourn, my nephew,
returned after an absence of four
weeks, in good health and spirits. “My
dear aunt,”
said he to me, “my family connexions
are unknown to me, and I have been
frequently interrogated concerning them;
will you, my best friend, acquaint me where
they now reside, and when I shall see them?”

I replied, “I cannot at present unfold to you
what is a great mystery; on a future day,
when Josephine Claribourn’s history appears,
you will then become acquainted with it.”

So in order to divert his mind from the subject
I entertained him with some observations
of the great Irish barrister Phillips, who observed
that the cold neglect that is too often
shown to ladies of the present day causes
their hearts to chill, at the sight of their
lords. “If a man,” says he, “will not take
care of the nearest and dearest friend of his
bosom, let the spoiler seize her and doom
him to never-ending misery. A jewel is
sometimes estimated by its worth, and sometimes
by its wearer; and if the possessor is
regardless of its value, and carelessly lays it
aside, who can behold the bright appearance,
and not wish to possess it?”

13(2)r 147

Reflect, then, ye segar smokers and wise polititians,
and say to yourselves, what pleasure
is to be compared to the attention of the innocent
prattlers of the rising generation, and
penetrating into the different characters that
children are to act in these United States,
where the expanded Eagle is gathering from
all nations her bright gems?

My nephew observed, it was now the
pleasantest season of the year; you meet all
in cleanly attire—the young in their gayest
plumage, like the feathered throng, and jocund
sing, with pleasure and delight, and
allure, by the soft cadence of their notes, the
passing throng. The sports of the field invite
the rural swains, such as the sons of Iberia
cannot enjoy; now, too, the glowing heat of
the sun and evening dews dress in mantle of
green the surrounding country. The tender
plants raise their heads, to the admiration of
the gardener; the blossoms fall, and in quick
order fruits appear, to the delight of youth’s
science, who quickly lay by their Euclids
and Lockes, to taste of Pomona’s bounty.
Soon they must return to reap their yellow 13(2)v 148
harvest, and deck their brows and laurels
obtained by a due application to study; and
the sweet reward that they will meet when
introduced to a Portia, a Lucretia, or a Maintenon,
which will fully compensate for all
their long studious nights and solitary days
spent in researches.

I will now relate to my readers the character
of Orestes, a youth of science, who being
introduced to a variety of ladies at a tea party
at Aquackanonk. He seemed thoughtful.—
“How shall I be happy?” he exclaimed;
“the wish of my heart is to be united
to another; and I think the task to obtain
one will be difficult. If she is possessed
of beauty, others will attempt to allure
her, unless she is possessed of wisdom to
guard her honour. If wealth is her portion,
she will be apprehensive that I will spend it.
If she has superior intellects to mine, a better
acquaintance with men and things, and a
general knowledge of the world, with a map
of it in her head, she will be ever restless
after some pursuit foreign to the family fireside,
and the trifling concerns of domestic 13(3)r 149
economy which contribute to the comforts
and happiness of the husband; such as ‘My
dear, did the brewer take away the empty
keg? Has Ponto been fed? Let Sukey take
my boots to be cleaned. I have invited
Counsellor Sunshine to a family dinner of
scollops stewed in oil, with anchovy sauce.’

Then she will be convulsed—‘Bless me!
my dear Orestes, this is washing day— Thump, thump, scold, scold,This is the washing day.’”

“Now what hopes can a man have if he
changes his situation? I am determined never
to be yoked in wedlock; I will be free; and
let Cupid aim his darts—I will rise above his
shafts, and shun all appearance of misery.”

Having finished Orestes’ observations, I
reflected on the truths he suggested, as many
observations he made were critically true. I
then gently took a walk to the Battery, to
view the many ships that approach with cargoes
of misery, pride and expectation, to our
flourishing city, where the majority of the
citizens are all assembled, and contemplating 13* 13(3)v 150
where to bury the dead, so as not to affect
those who survive them.

I gazed at many just landed, boasting of
the fine country they had left. I am willing
to admit all the wonderful things they relate;
and allow that the English excel us in eating:
for the papers daily proclaim that Dick Lazy
swallowed thirty eggs, and George Hopps,
drank for a wager, (sAs he was too wise to do
things for nothing,) five gallons of ale in six
hours, and afterwards run to Islington from
Tyburn in three minutes, and then eat a skim
milk cheese, well coloured with safforron to
make it look rich. Such nonsense, instead of
pleasing, indicates gluttony; and as lord
observes, “a man who boasts of
riding twenty miles in one hundred minutes,
I should be sorry to believe a liar; but if
he did, he must be very unfeeling, and not
unlike a brute.”
The English, I allow, excel
us in what I have recited.—But for horse-
racing, fish catching, snipe shooting, banking,
breaking, sneezing, smoking and sipping, we
bid them defiance; however, the time may
come when we will excel them in home-made 13(4)r 151
commodities, I mean such as originate among
ourselves. We have not a Fox or a Sheridan;
but we have an Adams and a Clay to
vociferate, and a Monroe to rule us, whose
enlightened mind renders his people happy;
but the time is too short, when he will return
to his tranquil abode. Thousands will repine
and grant him their blessings. Under his
own vine, may he long flourish, and be as the
evergreen, pleasant to behold in all seasons
of the year.

I shall now relate a scene near the beautiful
Pequest, the most rural spot I have observed
in this country. The clearness of the
rill affords an opportunity to gaze on the
handsome pebbles. Here we are lost in contemplating
the sublime majesty of the high
surrounding country, where freedom spreads
her banners and invites all distressed persons
from other climes to enjoy our tranquillity.

On crossing the Delaware I perceived a
crowd assembled; I knew not the occasion,
until I observed a handsome youth much dejected.
I cautiously inquired the cause— 13(4)v 152
“Ah!” replied a venerable old gentleman,
“that youth has robbed me of all my earthly
comforts: he has sought to obtain the affection
of my dear daughter, and by stratagem
gained, and now he is in custody: for
when a female is dishonoured, all the French
assignats, Spanish rials, and English guineas,
cannot make any compensation: the fatal
deed is irrevocable; and nothing can be
done, but sigh, and exclaim, ah sad am I!”

I endeavoured to comfort the old gentleman.
He would not hear me, and in the bitterness
of his heart, he uttered these words: “Frail
youth, may gnats take hold of and torment
you, and mosquitoes buz round your nightly
pillow, and caterpillars crawl in your bosom,
until you repent, and fall on your knees to
my sad daughter Ophelia, and implore her
pardon, and seal by a pledge, with a promise
never to part from her, and to crown her latter
years, if she should live, and this be forgotten,
— with love, respect and good treatment,
and so render life agreeable.”

The youth advanced in humble submission, 13(5)r 153
prostrated himself to Ophelia, and said, “Oh,
injured, beloved woman! what have I not
suffered since last I saw you? Remorse,
shame, dishonour, all rush on my feelings
and harass my soul. Worlds would I resign
to merit your forgiveness. Oh, do not be
so obdurate, but soften my decree by a speedy
answer. I will defend your person, and your
honour that I have sullied, with my life. I
will, if you request it, make restitution by my
death, and will take a potent anodyne that
shall free the world from a monster, and be
an example to all deceivers.”

In the phrenzy of his mind he declared life
was a burden, and insisted she would either
forgive or aid him to leave it.

After mature reflection she raised his freeble
voice, and emphatically expressed these
words: “Rise, lordly man—rise from the
fallen state in which, from the beginning of
the world, you have been by the allurements
of female beauty—rise, and by firmly
maintaining a fixed position, render yourself 13(5)v 154
what you were intended for by the great Omnipotent
Ruler of the world. I freely forgive
you with the hope that you will see better

The history of Baron Tilas.

I crossed over in the teamboat to Hoboken,
and from thence to Weehawk, a distance of
about five miles. I then entered the habitation
of colonel Fitzroy, a fine hospitable man
surrounded by his lovely family, living in
dignified retirement: his daughters were riding
for their health, on horseback, accompanied
by an adventurer.

To describe the figure and dress of baron
would require some skill. In his manners
he was frank and social, in his dress
neat and genteel, but rather expensive for a
man of small fortune; his conversation was a
mixed jargon of French and German, and in
order to be understood, and make himself
agreeable, he would converse in English.
There was a peculiar manner in this stranger,
and by a happy disposition he engaged the 13(6)r 155
attention of the whole family, particularly
Miss Eleanora, who was the first to introduce
him to her father’s family. The manner
of their becoming acquainted was something
singular, of which I shall now inform

Baron Tilas, having expended nearly all
the cash he brought with him from Germany,
in plotting and contriving plans to get a rich
wife, by making expensive parties; and not
having the pleasing manner that is requisite
to captivate the American ladies, all his plans
failed. He next purchased a ticket in the
lottery, and was waiting for the result of his fortune;
but it remained in the wheel, till his
patience was exhausted: every revolving sun
gladdened his heart with the expectation that
that would be the lucky day. At length one
of his particular friends told him not to trouble
himself so much; good luck always comes
unexpectedly. A thought occurred to his
mind, that he would retire into the country,
to recruit his spirits; and hearing board was
cheap in the Jerseys, he went there. It was
the season when people were alarmed about 13(6)v 156
the yellow fever in New-York; so his excursion
carried an appearance that he was very
fearful of it. As he was fishing one day near
the house of colonel Fitzroy, by a beautiful
brook, and his mind quite absorbed in reflection
to think what in a short time was to become
of him, if his ticket should be blank.
On turning his eyes quickly round, he saw
passing by the brook a sweet lovely girl; he
started, and approached her with this salutation:
“May I hope, Miss, that my presence
in this retired spot may be no interruption to
your happiness?”
“Oh, not at all sir,” she replied,
“this road is free for any of the human
species, after paying the toll, which no doubt
you have done, or you would not be here.
Are you a stranger in this neighbourhood?”

“Perfectly so, Miss; I came here fearful of the
prevailing epidemic, to spend a few weeks.
I board in a very kind family, who took me
as they said for company, since they are independent
people. The old gentleman is a
squire, but I cannot recollect his name.”
perhaps it is squire Hageman you board with.
His wife is a tall gawky woman; speaks very
loud, and her husband has very little to say. 14(1)r 157
The very same house, I assure you; and Mrs.
is so taken with me, that whatever
I ask for, is at my service, and I agreed
to pay two dollars a week, but it must be in
silver; for she says she will never take paper
money again, as her father, in the revolutionary
war, lost all his estate by taking continental
money, which so depreciated at last
that it was one hundred dollars for one, and
the congress never made it good. But they
have allowed pensions to all the old revolutionary
“My father,” said Mrs.
, “always did duty in the militia,
and his military coat and sash are in the
family to this day, and hung up in my best
room. My husband the squire often argues
with me, and says, he thinks he was disaffected,
though he was in the militia; but how
could he be disaffected? for when Burgoyne
was taken by Gates, he seemed much pleased;
but when Andre, the spy, was taken he
looked grave, and all the country feelingly
expressed their sorrow at his sad fate. It
happened just at the time that I was confined
with my first son, Jehoikam, who is now no
more; he was the finest youth in Weehawk. Vol. I. 14 14(1)v 158
I have only one child left, and that, I am sorry
to say, is a daughter. A woman in this
age has a hard task, as it appears they were
formed only to please; but it is very difficult
at all times for them to command their temper.
It is true, I have lived some time; but
in order to be happy, I never exactly speak
what I think. I am made up of dissimulation,
and my husband thinks I am the finest
woman in the Jerseys. I am sorry for my
sex, that they are doomed to deceive. I hope
their sins will be washed away.”

Baron Tilas observed to Miss Fitzroy, that
he would take the liberty to see her home, if
she would permit him. “My father, sir,”
said she, “is very austere in his family; and
my mother is always silent in his presence;
he does indulge me more than any of the
family, so I will risk his displeasure.
Pray, sir, by what name shall I introduce
“Baron Tilas, from Carlstadt, on the

As soon as Miss Fitzroy entered the drawing-room,
her father rose majestically, and 14(2)r 159
bowed—“This, sir, is Baron Tilas,” &c. &c.
“I am happy to see you, sir; welcome to my
house. What unexpected event brought you
“Nothing but the apprehension of
taking the fever caused me to take a jaunt
into the country, to amuse myself.”
library, sir, is at your service; there I spend
most of my time. My garden is nothing to
boast of, since I left Canada, and came to the
state of New-York. I have purchased a
small estate here, and my daughters are my
whole delight, as I have no son. My second
daughter has a taste for music, and I have an
excellent master for her; she is preparing to
sing at the next benefit of the Orphan Asylum;
she has a melodious voice.”

When Baron Tilas took leave of the family,
the Colonel insisted he should dine with
him the following Thursday. He begged to
be excused, as he had some business to attend
to that day in New-York, no less than exammining
his ticket; but the Monday following
he should do himself the pleasure; and, if
it would be agreeable to the family, he would
bring the Rev. John Fulham with him, as 14(2)v 160
they had been bosom friends ever since his
arrival, he having letters of introduction to
him, and being well acquainted with his
friends in Germany. Accordingly, on the
Monday following, the Rev. Mr. Fulham was
introduced to the Colonel’s family. He was
a gentleman of easy manners and dignified
appearance; his conversation was chiefly from
scripture, the destruction of Ninevah, that
great city, where scarcely a righteous man
was to be found; he dwelt much on the
burning of Moscow, and the attempt at destroying
our Capital at Washington, which
he thought were similar events, and plainly
showed that man’s hand was lifted against
man; and there was no rest for the wicked.
“True,” replied Mrs. Fitzroy, “human nature
is ever the same; envy, pride, overbearing
disposition too often possess our hearts,
and evil desires are in some measure constitutional;
but we must suppress in our bosoms
all evil conjectures, as they arise, of our
neighbours, and cheerfully aid them in their
pursuits; for my part, I freely forgive all
those who envy me. I know my garden is
ridiculed for the trigonometry that is displayed 14(3)r 161
in the conkshell border.”
The Rev. Mr.
was much pleased with our rural
situation. We took a pleasant excursion to
the English Neighbourhood with my daughter
Eleanora. The Baron thought the people
in this place resemble those where he was
born, and formed the resolution that he would
settle in that place, provided his ticket was a
prize; if a blank, he would, as he had a good
education, teach the languages, that being
lucrative in the present day. Colonel Fitzroy
did not accompany his lady and daughter
in their excursion with the Baron; the divine
had some family cares on his mind;
besides, their carriage could not conveniently
accommodate more than four persons.
The driver appeared in style, as they had two
handsome poneys of a dark chestnut colour;
the carriage was Prussian blue, which the
Germans are fond of. The doctor sung the
following air: “As free air I rov’d till now,Lov’d many a maid, yet cautious how;But still my heart was free.”

14* 14(3)v 162

Miss Eleanora was much pleased with the
singing, and in her turn cheerfully began her
fuavourite air, The braes of Balquether,
composed by M‘Dicks, the great musician.
The baron and the priest had never heard it;
the words, they allowed, were sublime; and
Miss Fitzroy, unlike ladies in general, pronounced
the words distinctly. The company
returned at an early hour. The Baron proceeded
to New-York to await the result of
his ticket, and the priest spent a few days at
this happy abode of tranquillity and ease.
On his return he glided through all the back
streets, as do unhappy characters who shun
the sight of their old acquaintances; as his
dusty appearance to a citizen who is all polished
and brushed ready to dart at, he knows
not what. Such shining outsides look with
a contemptuous eye at dusty looking farmers,
and long sided, long visaged trading folks
from the eastern states, with rolls of leather
under their arms instead of parchment. The
carriers of the latter overawe all beholders;
their wise visages, and black suits make them
feel a superiority, not only in the courts but
on the side-walks in Broadway, just before 14(4)r 163
the clock strikes eleven, and these meetings
are inviting to all that have studied Hale
and Erskine, or the ancients; there all will be
entertained to hear words misconstrued and
misapplied according to the wish of the party,
and give a doubtful meaning to the best
written document, which will require double
skill to enforce the true meaning.

Thence arises all that necessity of argument,
which affords the eloquent speakers an
opportunity of aggrandizing themselves, often
at the expense of truth, while the world extol
their talents.

Baron Tilas quickly applied at the lucky
lottery office opposite the City hotel to know
the result of his ticket. One of the young
gentlemen misunderstood him, and thought
he came to offer uncurrent money. “Alas,”
he replied, “I have none, current or uncurrent;
I merely wish to know if I have been

Immediately the misunderstanding young
man opened the book and was very observant 14(4)v 164
of the number, and cheerfully informed him
his ticket was a prize of one thousand dollars.
He was frantic with joy. “How unworthy
am I,”
exclaimed he, “of such good fortune!
I left my father poor and miserable, when
I had health and strength to support him,
industriously engaged in painting toys—a
very unprofitable business, which scarcely
afforded him an existence. My mother,
always tacit, scarcely uttered a word at my
departure, but looked at my face till my heart
was like to break. All these scenes presented
to my mind a gloomy hope of happiness with
this addition to my fortune.”

O wealth, thou soother of almost all the ills
of life! the want of thee makes the tottering
limbs of age more feeble, and fills the large
edifices of our populous cities with inmates,
who weep fountains of unavailing tears, unheard
by the rich and great, who are sporting
and basking in luxury. They never think
what the hand of time will effect.

It was now approaching spring; the featherered 14(5)r 165
songsters warbled in the grove, and
bright Sol approached with his warm beams.
The impatient Baron hastened to the English
, with heart elate, to purchase
a neat cottage, and by industry to cultivate a
small spot of ground, by raising two crops in
one year.

Arnoldus Van Berkle had a small farm to
dispose of; his price was three hundred
pounds—half cash, half bond and mortgage,
five per cent. interest, payable half yearly.
Many interviews took place before the bargain
was made, as he had to consult Anarautia,
his wife, and also please all the rest of
her relations, among whom was his faithful
slave, Cuffy, who always advised his master
in important affairs. Cuffy was totally averse
to his disposing of any of his landed estate—
it was better to keep it, as perhaps at a future
day it might be purchased at a great price of
a new potter’s field. “No, no, Cuffy,” said
Van Berkle, “if I can persuade my wife to
sign off her right of dower, I must and will
sell it. At the last election for president I
wanted to appear great, so I made some bets 14(5)v 166
that Clinton would be president; but I
hear the great Adams is elected, which is
equally pleasing to me, for now the eastern
people are all united. However, I must pay
my bet.”

In the height of the conversation between
Arnoldus and Cuffy, his wife, Anarautia,
entered the caumer, as the best bedroom is
always called by the Dutch—meaning the
spare room. She turned up her meek blue
eyes, took off her spectacles, and inquired of
him, “What is your will, my husband?”
“My will is, and you have promised to obey,
that you will sign off your right of dower of
my little farm over the bridge, as I can get a
good price for it; the fences are old, the barn
must be repaired, the hog-sty is too small,
and the orchard is all summer pippins—they
will not keep, unless I get the great Prince to
inoculate them.”
“Oh, forever!” she exclaimed;
“what! sell the place my father left
me? you will never have any luck; it is true
we have been married seven years, and had
no children; there is no knowing since the
adoption of the new constitution what 14(6)r 167
changes it will make in men and laws.
However, if I must, I must; I only require
what great people in general want, a set of
silver with the initials of my own name, to be
handed down to my collateral posterity.”

Matters being thus arranged, the bargain
was concluded, and the silver admitted.
Counsellor Drawback wrote the deed, and
other necessary papers, when Baron Tilas
took possession, having enough left to begin
farming. After lighting fire, he looked round,
and found himself alone; he began to reflect
that it was not good, and like our first parent,
he fell asleep; but he found when he awoke,
no rib he had lost, nor no woman had he
found; he immediately determined in his
mind, let the consequences be as they would;
and as the stage passed the door of his new
residence every day, he would take a seat.
He was agreeably surprised at meeting his
friend, the Rev. M. Fulham. He informed
him of the purchase he had made, and his
intention of now visiting the Fitzroy family.
There were a variety of characters in the
stage, particularly the rich respectable taylor 14(6)v 168
and his family that made such a noise, and
excited so much inquisitiveness, at the Greek
ball, whom I have heretofore mentioned; he
had taken a flight into the country to forget
the disagreeable sensation that disturb their
mind at being so particularized. Mrs. Snip
was a little graceful person, flippant in speech
and romantic in dress, being the daughter of
a pawnbroker, a class of persons generally
admitted in large cities.

The stage driver was a humourous classical
scholar, who had just taken that employment
to relax his mind from hard study in
one of the public schools in the city, where
he was usher. He was so fond of letting the
passengers know that he was a learned man
he could hardly restrain himself. He would
say to the horses magna fui: the people looked
round in consternation, and thought he
was deranged; then he would cry out que,
, instead of whoa, whoa, which excited
much laughter. Among the passengers, was an
English girl lately from Salsbury, with broad
shoulders and hollow stomach, full of health
and spirits. She remarked on passing through 15(1)r 169
the country, in the English neighbourhood,
that they had a little appearance of the villages
near London, where decency and neatness
prevailed. She said she thought America
a fine country, though the ouses were not so
andsome as at ome; she, for her part, must
say, that since she came here she had plenty
of work, and should never again darken her
parent’s doors, as she could live without

The Rev. Mr. Fulham, observed, he who
hated his father or his mother, as is expressed
in holy writ, the ravens should pluck out his
eyes and the young eagles eat them. After that
speech a profound silence prevailed; then the
turnpike gate flew open and the driver payed
the toll. There is a certain highwayman
look in all these turnpike men, when they
demand money of you, that is terrifying, and
contrary to my ideas of a free country; for
why should a person be way-laid for a trifle,
just to gratify a few nabobs, who choose to
stop the road, and make some alterations, to
bank up a little money? For this, every
idle, inquisitive and intelligent traveller must Vol. I. 15 15(1)v 170
be detained, which is shameful. In this free
country, roads, like water, should be free.
Many an unhappy parent cannot, in the hour
of sickness, see a darling child gasping his
last breath, by being detained by these leeches.
Let us then recommend the people at
large to lay waste these annoyances, which
distress the weary traveller.

In a short time we arrived at Weehawk, and
my friend Fulham and myself entered the lane
in front of Col. Fitzroy’s house to gather a
little sprig to present to Miss Eleanora. On
entering the hall a perfect silence reigned—
Mrs. Fitzroy was exceedingly ill. We met
Doctor Foresight, who informed us her case
was rather singular (esub sultus tendenum.)
“Not dangerous, I hope, Sir.” “By no
means: a gentle cathartic, and after that a
mild sudorific, will be essentially necessary;
and then a copious bleeding, and kept perfectly
quiet, will, I hope, effect a cure.”
nurse ran hastily after the doctor as he was
going, for she had not altogether understood
his prescriptions, not being well read. He
kindly told her what was first to be taken, 15(2)r 171
then charged her to mind their effects, and
be particular in relating them to him at his
next visit. The doctor being satisfied that
Nurse Doser would be attentive, absented
himself, and the Parson and the Baron entered
the parlour. Eleanora seemed somewhat
confused; a palpitation of the heart seized
her: she, however, was careful, like her sex
in general, to disguise her feelings. But rest
assured, my inquisitive reader, that true love,
sincere esteem, heightened by a little absence,
the glowing cheek, the gentle smile, and the
beams in the countenance, show too true, the
work is begun; and whatever methods are
taken to smother the flame, it burns the
brighter the more you try to subdue it. After
a few compliments and inquiries the conversation
took a turn towards the English Neighbourhood,
where the Baron first felt that
indescribable emotion, which he who never
felt was never happy, and informed them
that he had purchased the cottage and farm
of Arnoldus Van Berkle and Anarautia his
wife, and intended to reside there—had already
made fire and taken possession. The
young ladies looked confused. Tea was announced 15(2)v 172
in the adjoining room, and the evening
passed off agreeably.—Nothing remarkable,
except a few tender speeches, when the
lover had an opportunity. At ten o’clock we
left the family, hoping at their next interview
Mrs. Fitzroy would be better. The Parson
and the Baron staid at the first inn they could
meet. They were invited to stay all night at
Col. Fitzroy’s, which they declined. After
being some time at the inn his friend spoke
to him in the following manner:—“What
induced you to purchase a farm? Have you
any knowledge of agriculture, or the changing
seasons in this country? The manners of
the people of America are different from
those of Carlstadt on the Rhine: civility and
discretion, prudence and economy, characterize
the manners of your country, while ambition,
pride and self-sufficiency, too much
prevail in many other nations.”
“My dear
replied the Baron, “having formed
an attachment to Miss Eleanora Fitzroy, and
never having made it known to her, I beg
your silence until you know the event; for I
am determined to acquaint her at our next
interview with my sincere and unalterable 15(3)r 173
attachment to her. I have got some respectable
names to my character in New-York,
and in order to make things satisfactory, and
that she might expect a home, I purchased a
small farm, thinking by uncommon industry
I might support her. She appears one of
those lovely fair ones that require but little,
having been used to a retired life. It would
have been far different had I placed my
affections on a modern toast—to such a one
nothing is thought of but riding tandem and
dancing, attendance at balls, plays, &c., and
all kinds of expensive amusements, which is
contrary to my ideas of comfort.”
friends now retired to rest. The day following
the Doctor called on his patient, Mrs.
, and had the satisfaction to find her
much better, and had fair hopes of her speedy
recovery. The Rev. Mr. Fulham and the
Baron became inseparable friends. Attachments
of this kind are frequent, when a little
secrecy is expected. Men or women cannot
rest when love seizes the heart, until they
confide the secret to their friend.

Among the visiters that frequented Col. 15* 15(3)v 174
was Miss Laura Askin; she was
from Philimore-place, Islington, near London;
her manners were easy and unaffected; her
features regular and beautiful, and her dark
and raven locks were glossy as the breast of
a blackbird; true wisdom flowed from her
lips, and she was the admiration of the sons
of Columbia. The Misses Fitzroys were not
quite so handsome, but their conversation
was enlivening.

But to return to the small farm in the
English neighbourhood, which the Baron
had named after a place in Germany near

The Baron, having now finished his cottage
in a neat style, and whitened the fences,
which is always the first thing a gentleman
farmer attends to, hastened to New-York to
inquire for letters from his parents, the receipt
of which gave him great satisfaction, as they
informed him that a maiden aunt had bequeathed
him a handsome legacy, on condition
that he married within five years after
her death, for she supposed that he would 15(4)r 175
then take care of it. If he was not married
in that time, it was to be given to a charitable
institution, as she never wished what she
left to be wasted. He hastened back from
New-York to his favourite spot, and prepared
his mind for an interview with his lovely fair.
At his first approach he had the pleasure to
find Mrs. Fitzroy perfectly recovered from
her late indisposition, and all the good family
in good health and spirits. Fortunately,
Miss Eleanora was alone at his entrance in
the parlour. He approached her with looks
of cordial love, and hanging over her enamoured,
began the following pathetic story:

“How shall I address you in language that
in common conversation I am at a loss to
express my meaning. On the summit of
happiness or misery, I have no words in any
language to express the high esteem I have
for you. Had I the eloquence of an Emmet,
the mind of a Brougham, or the wisdom of
a Socrates, I might hope a favourable hearing.
Mine is an uncommon attachment.—
Think, then, lovely charmer, and smile on
your pursuer.”

15(4)v 176

“I have, my dear sir,” she replied, “no
pleasure in trifling with a sincere heart: I
only want time to inquire after necessary
things to make life agreeable, and to know
how we are to live. My father’s finances
are only sufficient for immediate wants; he
has nothing to spare for others.”
happy, my dear Eleanora; I have purchased
a comfortable abode, and a legacy having
been left me by a maiden aunt, enables me
to assure you I can support you in a genteel
manner. What pleasure can you take in
procrastinating our happiness? I have made
your parents acquainted with my character
and family, and they leave it to your discretion
to make choice of a partner for life. Your
own mind must be your director: all I wish
is a speedy answer. I shall leave you to
your own reflections; and in the course of
ten days may I hope that the impression I
have made on your mind will be favourable,
and that with welcome looks and kind reception
I may be allowed to salute you and call
you mine for ever? Then will I triumphantly
bless my better stars, fall at your feet, and, as
a humble suppliant, hope for forgiveness if I
have offended.”

15(5)r 177

The Baron bowed respectfully, and retired
to take leave of the family, who kindly asked
him to stay that night; but which he modestly
refused, though of all earthly pleasures he
would most cheerfully have accepted.

At the return of his Eleanora how did his
glad heart glow with ardour! His countenance
as the drooping lily withered; but by the
warmth of the sun of affection it expanded
and appeared in its pristine vigour. “How
sublime the joy when hope dawns on our
he exclaimed; “I shall now hasten to
await my doom.”
And at the first interview
after his return to Weehawken he immediately
requested to know his doom. She was very
explicit, and said she delighted not in tormenting
those that preferred her to the rest of
her sex, and now acknowledged that her
every wish was centered in his happiness,
and ere many revolving suns he should be
blessed with her hand and heart. He then
took her hand and promised her that every
future action of his life should be directed by
her, and as his leading star, he would follow
her in all the intricate mazes of life. Should 15(5)v 178
clouds overcast the morn, he would penetrate
through their gloom. After a variety of
conversation, the ladies all entered the room.
Miss Erskine looked as if she should like to
know our last conversation, she being a young
lady of penetration, I quickly replied to her
that I was the happiest man in existence.
She took the hint and smiled. Mrs. Fitzroy
entered the drawing room; I made a humble
bow, and in the feelings I was impressed with
begged her concurrence in my favour as
speedily as possible. Her husband was gone
to solicit aid for the Greeks. It depends
greatly on the state of our minds at the time
that we are wishing to aid the wretched,
whether we shall be successful or not. But
we may ask in vain; the all-seeing eye looks
at the well meaning of the giver: He knoweth
our hearts, and will smile upon us according
to our sincerity. Baron Tilas entered
and made his respects to Mr. Fitzroy, and
likewise requested his approbation; he, without
pausing a moment, gave his consent, and
the twenty-fifth of the next month was to be
the nuptial day.

End of the First Book.

15(6)r 179

Book II.

Chapter IVVI.

It was planned by all the family that the
nuptials should remain a secret three weeks,
as the surrounding neighbours would all expect
to be invited, for they were much esteemed.
The wedding accordingly took place at
the contemplated spot, and without any parade.
They removed to their little cottage,
where it was impossible to be retired. The
young gentlemen assembled and serenaded
them, and sung the following air:

Joe and Kate.


Old Joe he died, just worth a plum,

Which he bequeathed to loving Kate;

She grieved, and low her head he hung,

You would have thought her heart would break.

15(6)v 180


Her friends they tried to get her home,

And begged that she would not be grum,

But make a vow to live alone,

As she was now just worth a plum.


She silent sat now in her weeds;

Her friends contrived to have some fun:

The heroes now with long-tail steeds,

Found out she was just worth a plum.


She said Joe made it altogether

Just by shaving, and by rum,

Only by his rolls of leather,

He now left her worth a plum.


When morn approached, he’d smile, and say,

“Oh haste, my dear, oh be quite dumb;”

And she was silent all the day,

’Twas then he left what’s called a plum.


At his last gasp his friends all came,

And all proclaimed his work was done;

They strove to give him a good name,

For sure, he left his Kate a plum.

His friend, the Rev. Mr. Fulham, spent a
few weeks at his cottage, and advised him to 16(1)r 181
every thing for his benefit, being a man of
profound erudition, and much caressed in the

We shall now pass over all the “changing
that took place in the amiable family
that I have so minutely described, and take
a survey of the interior of the state of New-
, at a place called Hacketstown, where,
in a merry mood, I crossed the mountain to
see the rural abodes of indigence, and notice
the treatment the fair sex receive from clownish,
ignorant, labourous husbandman; mark
the predominant desires that pervade the bosoms,
and the home made dress of these sons
of labour, which make them gay in solitude;
for were they clad in purple and fine linen,
they would not be content to grovel in the
earth like glow-worms. The season was
favourable for jaunting, the days long, and
the face of the country clad in green; the
lambs skipping, the lasses tripping, old women
scolding, horses neighing, asses braying,
hogs grunting, pigs squealing, cows lowing,
man labouring; women having the most difficultVol I. 16 16(1)v 182
trial to please their tender companions.
In this unsettled state of my mind, I saw a
number of cattle passing along to Philadelphia,
the driver whistling as he went for want
of thought; his ruddy cheek convinced me
he never studied. The asure sky and revolving
seasons were to him a source of gratification.

Jerry Jocand, a merry fellow, (for I cannot
convey my sentiment in any other expression)
was strong and athletic; his arms always
akimbo, and a silent dignity that was
manifested in his behaviour, escaped not the
scrutinizing observation of many persons.
The fashion of his coat was not like Paddy’s,
buttoned behind him, it was carelessly thrown
over his shoulders to be exhibited when called
to his repast, which was wholesome bacon
and beans and good cider. The toast was,
“here’s towards your good health,” and then
threw the contents of the glass behind the
backlog, which is the criterion of the well-
bred clown. Then all the jovial family, when
Jerry returns from the market, surround him to
have a detail of his great business, which he 16(2)r 183
thus related: “A tall wise looking man, with
a long face, looked in my basket very wishfully,
and inquired the price, and continually
found fault with every thing; hurry, hurry,
says I to myself, this must be a politician,
who prys into every thing and buys nothing.
By Jove, it is laughable; they have not a cent
or dime, only perhaps a few ancient coins
which they show the women, for they cannot
pass them, with a few scraps of unintelligable
writings in their pockets, such as introductory
letters to the Lord knows who,
recommendations from the Lord knows
where, with a detail of all their glorious
achievements in Portugal, Spain, up the
Mediteranean, any where you please, all fiction
and folly, deception and whim. These
long-faced gentry I hope will keep aloof from
my basket of hard-earned production. By
night and by day in summer’s scorching heat
and winter’s keen blast, poor Jocund must
labour, while those pale looking gentry look
on us as very little superior to the beasts, because
our appearance is not apt to please.
The weather-beaten hat, hard mouldy shoes,
and swaddling gate, broad-round shoulders, 16(2)v 184
and turn-up nose, make us despised in the
sight of your grand nabobs, with perhaps
their all on their backs. If it was not for
their brains, how could they exist? Sometimes
they have a melodious voice, like the
great Braham, who made thousands, or like
the famed Mathews who acquired large sums
for his jocose and pleasant manners. I heard
Barny M‘Inch say he could, in spite of
economy, draw large sums of money from respectable
persons, who, previous to their going
to hear him, would quarrel two hours with
their servant for breaking an empty pitcher,
and swear at their washer-woman for not
crimping the bosom of their shirts, d――m the
tailor for not sending their last chosen vest,
then strut and feel vexed that they did not
become the suit they had on, struggling with
temper or they would change them. Such
trying scenes took place not many minutes
before they were to appear like angels, gallanting
the ladies who are always pleased
with polite attentions of the other sex. Then
the smiling nymphs accept the proffered cakes,
comfits, kisses, &c. &c.; all attention, the curtain
then rises, and each appears decked in 16(3)r 185
sumptuous attire, in imitation of him, I mean
the great, the lost, the almost forgotten Napoleon,
just entering on board of the ship,
with a serene and becoming aspect, comporting
with his former dignity. The theatre
roared with admiration at his approach,
and he addressed the audience in a style not
to be expected from a son of Mars, it was as
in the soothing strains of domestic tranquillity
that he spoke. What! ah, what is power?
it passes away as the fallen snow; for a short
time it afforded pleasure to the mind, and after
one cloud appears it vanishes for ever—
aye, short is the triumph in those changing
scenes of life.”

Alike is wealth; for after the miser has heaped
innumerable sums of money, and fearful
that his nearest relatives should know it, and
in the hurry and confusion of the world, in his
latter days neglects to make a disposition of it,
then soon as the vital lamp of life is extinguished,
meteors of a day rush forward and seize
the hidden treasure; then in the name of these
United States all must be made public, whose
power and grandeur fill the Edinburgh Review16* 16(3)v 186
with matter sufficient to amuse and surprise
half the cockneys in Europe, though
they have not much time nor inclination to
read, being so engaged in profitable pursuits,
only at evening’s close, drinking a little of
their famous ale, for fear their large tubs
would burst and deluge their famous city.

The curtain now drops, and agreeable sensations
arise in the mind, and every person
for a moment acknowledges the truth of Napoleon’s
observation, and soon after a very different
scene presents to our view, when the
curtain again rises, then pomp, splendour,
costly dress, and innumerable things appear.
The first is lord Lorimer, one of his majesty
George the Fourth’s privy council, a man of
great dignity of person, just arrived with an
assurance that his majesty would be graciously
pleased to make Scotland a second visit,
with a desire that on his appearance, all persons
would bow their heads, and those particularly
that practiced the healing art, by
which that country heretofore had been so

16(4)r 187

The theatre now closed, and I retired to
rest. Early the next day I began to reflect
on what I heard of the aborigines of this
country, who thought they were kept in a state
of vassalage and ignorance; but since missionaries
have been sent among them they have
become quite reasonable people.

How different are the sex in civilized life!
The first of every good thing is presented to
their females, and Bacchus does not interfere
in their flowing bowls. The world is all at
peace. Bacchus causes shipwrecks, animosities,
wars, rumours, disquietudes, and almost
all the evils of life; be sedate then ye
wise men of America in particular, for your
rising greatness astonishes all the habitable
globe, you are now as Rome, Athens, and
many fallen cities once were, at the zenith
of your glory; then bravely assume a manly
prerogative, and let the new constitution that
has now began its powerful operations, stimulate
you to good actions. Combine not in
any manner to deceive your unknowing
neighbour, who in order to enrich his field by
laudible industry, is trying to obtain a comfortable 16(4)v 188
maintainance for his little family, and
to educate them to fill places of profit and
honour, and be beneficial to this state of
New-York; let not, I say, any combination
of idle men meet and endeavour by corrupt
manners, and designing means to alleviate
their keen appetites, wish to ruin their industrious
fellow mortal; and I again repeat it to
all that are in the high walks of life, and in
whose hands are power and wealth, crush
those ravenous wolves, and let them no longer
bask in sunshine to the ruin of their neighbours.

The ancient Spartans were a people whose
integrity is a wise example to our rising generation:
ye worthy youth of the present day,
whose minds are yet uncontaminated by vice,
look forward, for great honours await those
who by application and industry seek wealth.

There is now established for you an extensive
library, such as your forefathers never
had an idea of; be studious, then, and it will
be a gratification to many rising characters of
the present day. You may perhaps in time 16(5)r 189
sit in the highest seat in the temple, and with
extended arms and eloquence profound, teach
the people to be wise and good.

I shall now, my patient reader, leave this
piece to your attention, in the foregoing chapter,
and remind you of the promises I made
in the beginning of this book, to relate some
adventure not yet known. I shall now proceed
to the beauties of the Pequest, and anxiously
inquire what has taken place worthy
of remark since my infant days. I confess,
to my surprise and astonishment, the country
is all fertilized, and male and female as much
altered in manner and appearance as is possible
to conjecture. My former friends and
intimates have risen from almost a state of
vassalage to wealth and comfort; many are in
the silent tomb; others have erected stately
fabricks, and filled them with growing evil;
perhaps children I mean.

Colonel Dexter is the most officiating character
in the place; he is adviser and protector
of all unfortunate characters; he is president
of the bank, deacon in the church, assessor 16(5)v 190
of taxes, road-master, and overseer of
the poor, all at one time. It appears he is
loaded with troubles and honours; never a
day passes but he is solicited to a party, or
called on for advice; and if he does not attend
they wait his pleasure, but never dispense
with his company.

Mrs. Dexter is a sister to governor Claybourne,
and is rather of a haughty appearance,
which does not comport with the manners,
nor suit the people of Pequest, who are very
religious, being almost all methodists, and
have a large barn instead of a church that
they assemble in, and are well satisfied that
God is in the midst of them to bless them.

Colonel Dexter and his lady sometimes attend
divine service, which gives great pleasure
to the people. A serious affray was like
to take place about three months ago; Uriah
, not Uriah the Hittite, ran off with
Judith Cummins, to the state of Pennsylvania,
and insisted she should give him her hand.
She was an orphan, who had been educated
under the auspices of a good family. The 16(6)r 191
whole country was agitated at this treatment
of her. Judith was rescued by Sandy M‘Farland,
who offered to fight him, which he
declined. Judith was rescued and safely conveyed
to the Pequest; Uriah retreated to Alabama
with an ambition that fills the minds
of many characters of the present day, that
is, wished to offer himself as a candidate for
any vacant office. A small school is now
preparing for Judith, under the patronage of
Mrs. Dexter; she being a highly accomplished
lady, is willing to give her a few necessary
lessons, as a recommendation from her will
be sufficient to satisfy the people that she is
competent for the undertaking. She has only
one daughter, who is in the sixteenth year
of her age, named Carolina Sophia. She is
in stature tall, in manners mild, and a countenance
indicative of good sense; she is the
adoration of her parents, and possesses the
good will of her neighbours. It is contemplated
by her parents to send her to New-
to acquire dignified manners, and obtain
lessons in the fine arts, such as music,
dancing, drawing, &c. &c.; all other instruction
such as geography, stenography, philosphy, 16(6)v 192
and many other accomplishments, she
was possessed of. No expense had been
spared by her parents, being determined their
ancient family should not moulder or decay
for the want of intelligent persons to support

Visible traits of former greatness were to
be observed in their manner and address;
their minds still retained a certain indescribable
emotion at the appearance of the better
order of beings, such as distinguish themselves
in charitable pursuits.

Miss Judith began her engagement at the
Pequest in New-Jersey, which I shall now
describe. The country around is inhabited
by peaceable, industrious farmers; it is about
eighty miles from New-York—the richest
man is Conrad Haunce, a German, from the
borders of the Manheim, whose peculiar manners
I must describe. He never consents to
his partner’s leaving home, as he says it spoils
the woman, and sets a bad example to his
daughters. He always maintains a stubborn
silence to his family; and a rigid economy is 17(1)r 193
observed. His wrinkled forehead keeps them
all in awe of him, and the only influence they
can obtain is when they are sick; for he is so
avaricious he does not like to part with any
thing, not even his family. His Frowe is
very sulky when a friend calls and finds her
doing nothing, and in that state of mind she
is sure to bind up her head with a large cloth,
and tie up her mouth as though she had the

Her husband then accosted her—“Frowe,
have you nothing to give our friend to eat
after travelling all the way from Tawnytown
to see us?”
Then she stamped on the
floor, the heels of her shoes having many
nails drove in them to make them strong;
she ran down into the cellar, fetched up a
side of bacon, and began slicing it; then the
daughter flew up to the barn, and knocked
the head off a pair of old roosters, while the
old man gathered some eggs from under an
old hen. They were all in motion to entertain
their friend from Tawnytown, who began
to be very pleasant and talkative, as he
saw them all so busy preparing dinner; and, Vol. I. 17 17(1)v 194
in order to entertain them with something
new, he inquired, “Have you heard our
Squire Baltus Zeek has buried his fourth
wife, and she has left him the care of ten
children, all under twenty years of age? Poor
old gentleman, I pity him; he is upwards of
seventy years of age; my Heeragodt! what
a sorrowful thing it is that these women die
so fast. I think she worked too much—and
he cannot now get another—he is too old.”

“Well,” exclaimed Haunce, “I think I have
great luck; I still keep my old wife—she
was one of the Hessian women taken at
Trenton, where Washington surrounded them
all more than forty years ago. You have
certainly heard when there were so many
Hessians taken by him. For all she has the
head-ache and tooth-ache at every turn, I
don’t notice it; that is the best way; for if a
man is alarmed every time his wife complains,
she will die directly, only to please him.
Poor Baltus Zeek! what trouble he has met
—crying and mourning his whole life; it
would be better he had never been born.
How hard is the lot of man, if he studies all
his life to please a peevish woman; and if for 17(2)r 195
a moment he neglects her, she immediately
dies of hypochondria. Then the doctors declare,
for they know not her disease, it was
a hasty consumption. It is the best way, I
think, Boltus, not to look at the women at
all, and then you can’t know whether they
are pleased or not; that is my way: I plod
on, and never feel merry or sad—always the
same; a cloudy or a rainy day is all the
same to Conrad Haunce: children crying,
dogs barking, women scolding, or cats mewing,
never disturb me. There is Captain
of our militia, my next neighbour—he
is from Hempstead, Long-Island. To be
sure, I have nothing against him; he is so
polite to every one, and so changeable, that
he never, I am told, keeps his mind for two
hours. If he promises to see the collector
and inquire how much taxes you owe, or
when you are to do your part of the road,
or prepare for the election, he surely forgets
it; and when he meets you he will ask your
pardon, and say he had so many engagements
he forgot it, when perhaps he had nothing to
do. His wife can never please him. He is
so whimsical, and so fond of company, that 17(2)v 196
he can never rest at home; he must be meddling
with other people’s business. I never
go to see him, because he does not suit
my turn: he often asked me; but whether
he means it or not I cannot say. Now I
would advise you, Boltus, my dear friend from
Tawnytown, not to be in a hurry to get
married, for it is hard to please the women,
if you take any notice of them.”

Mrs. Haunce, with her hard step, owing to
her shoes as I before observed, entered the
room, and with a fine white table cloth of
her own manufacture in neat folds, laid the
cloth, and in the twinkling of an eye the
bacon and roosters were spread on the table,
and a handsome print of butter and eggs.

All the family sat down to the table quite
mute. The old gentleman took off his ancient
hat and placed it before his face, and
made a long prayer; and when finished spoke
in a feeble voice, “We have nothing better—
help yourself;”
and in silence they all ate
lustily, making no remarks by saying, this
bacon is not so good as that cured in England; 17(3)r 197
this poultry is quite small to what we
have; this does not taste like Irish butter,
and so on—not satisfied, and always making
comparisons with distant things; which in
fashionable high life cause warm disputes to
arise at table concerning the goodness of
what they are eating.—This is particularly
applicable to Philadelphians.

America at present can boast of the best
beef of any country; and every comfort of
life is here—for few foreigners wish to return
to their cheese, their sounds, their sorrows,
or their oat meal or pigs.

I now leave Conrad Haunce and his friend
Boltus Zeek, and all the family, at their
different occupations at Pequest, while I take
a view of Miss Judith’s school, and Miss
Carolina Sophia Dexter’s
improvements in
New-York. To begin with dancing. Her
teacher was a person of fine figure, or the
name of Descartes, the son of a nobleman in
France who fled to this country after Bonaparte
left it. He was very attentive to Miss
: she soon learned to waltz; and 17* 17(3)v 198
on public days she was always one of the
Graces, or carried the Grecian wreath.

As she had the advantage of a good figure,
in a short time Miss Carolina was distinguished
from the other ladies by Descartes, and
she quickly discovered that he always made
her the lowest bow when dancing a cotillion;
and she in return held her head the highest.
His attention did not escape notice. One
day, as he was parading through Broadway
opposite the City Hotel, dressed in lilac satin,
she cast her eyes up, and saw Descartes in
company with some gentlemen from Canada
who had been running the boundaries, according
to the treaty of Ghent. She passed
quickly along, and in a short time she heard
the footsteps of a person fast approaching—
“What haste you appear in, Miss Carolina.
I should suppose,”
said he, “if you were
going down a dance, that you did not pay
much attention to the music, for you seem in
rather quick time.”
“Not at all, sir, I paid
no more respect to time than you did, and I
hope in a short time to see my parents once
more, whose presence is ever in my mind, 17(4)r 199
whether tripping, talking, dancing, or stalking.”
“I don’t doubt it, my dear Miss
, and may I have the pleasure to
hope that you will, in future, think a little of
of your present time spent in my company,
as it would make me blessed indeed. I should
then attune my soul in high strains of melody,
hoping the sound woould vibrate in your ear
to delight you.”

“Forebear, Monsieur Descartes,” she replied,
“to trouble my mind with your similes.
I was sent by my parents, whom I
revere, to profit by improving myself in all
essential accomplishments; I have, by close
application, endeavoured to improve myself,
so as to give satisfaction for the expense I
caused them. I do not wish to lessen myself
in their esteem by committing any rash act.
On the contrary, as I am their only child, it
is my incumbent duty to make their latter
days agreeable; so I beg, sir, you’ll not trouble
my mind with any observations that in
the event of time may give them pain. I
hope, sir, you will excuse me, as I am engaged
to dine this day at Counsellor Crafty’s 17(4)v 200
who is my guardian, and I must be very particular
in my conversation, as every word will
be registered in his mind; and I am apprehensive
that he will try me in all my different
studies. My improvements in dancing and
drawing he will not trouble himself about;
all I fear is I shall make blunders, placing
stops when they are not necessary, on which
he will interrogate me. I shall then be dumb
for ever, silent as the grave. The next thing
is to inform my parents what progress I have
made. If not satisfactory, I shall be called
home to leave this far famed city, where I
enjoy much pleasure.”

Miss Judith gathered all the children in the
vicinity, and gave great satisfaction to their
parents. One day, in very great haste, she
rapped at Mrs. Dexter’s door: “Good news,
madam, from New-York; Miss Caroline
has made conquest of a nobleman’s
son, who offended his parents in France, by
quarreling with the servants; he embarked
for America, and having no money, he undertook,
under a feigned name, to teach dancing.
Miss Caroline was a scholar of his, and he 17(5)r 201
has never made known to her his high family
and great expectations. His father can give
him fifty thousand francs. His passion he
has revealed to her, and she is at a stand until
she knows who he is. A friend of his
arrived at Washington Hall last week in the
ship Criterion from France, and was inquiring
after the family; I happened to be there taking
tea, and heard the conversation. I steped
forward and informed him every thing
to his entire satisfaction. He exulted with
joy, and intends soon returning to his own
country. I hope Miss Dexter will not entirely
extinguish the flame until she hears who
he is, if agreeable to you, madam, as you certainly
have the prosperity of your daughter
at heart. I will write to her immediately, and
put the letter in the post office; it will reach
her before his friend returns; please to inform
me who I must direct a letter to, and in
whose care.”

“My dear Miss Judith, there are so many
impostures, I scarcely can believe when the
truth appears. The young ladies of America
are sought after by the Europeans as soon as 17(5)v 202
they arrive: the first inquiry is where resides
the wealthiest young lady, or where shall I
meet the greatest beauty. Immediately plans
are laid, schemes projected, arts tried, parties
made up, and, in truth, nothing left undone
to introduce the young people to each other:
and then hymen implored to grant his aid:
all friends, old and young, give their opinion.
If the gentleman can bow respectfully, talk
knowingly, or sing enchantingly, the business
is half done. As soon as he is introduced, a
plan is immediately set on foot to form a party,
and giving an opportunity to surrounding
friends to inspect those outlandish gentry, who
are as docile as lambs, and innocent as doves.”

“I beg pardon, Mrs. Dexter, all Europeans
are not designing, Man differs as much from man,As man from beast.
We must have charity: many a worthy
youth, with inexorable parents, because they
will not study Euclid, and learn mathematics,
astronomy, theology, and all other not easily 17(6)r 203
acquired knowledge, are banished from
their presence as hyenas; and they will
not be softened into pity by any of their
friends. Such unfortunate youths, by wandering
in other climes, perhaps may be so
fortunate as to alight at some abode, and in a
moment receive comfort. They snatch the
glorious golden oppertunity, and then time
passes, and they risk their future destiny.”

“Well, Miss Judith, your expressions are
on a firm basis; I will direct you how to send
your letters to New-York, and hope the result
of your wishes may make us content in
this vale of life, where joy and sorrow are so
combined, it is almost impossible to rend them
To return to Maiden-lane, where
Miss Carolina boarded. She had just entered
the front door, when the servant handed
her the letter. Her tender frame, for she
was young, was seized with unusual sensations,
and the tremble of her hand caused her
to drop it, unheeded, on the floor. On entering
the drawing room of her guardian, (guardians
are ever great observers,) he inquired
the fate of the dancing master, as he had not 17(6)v 204
seen him for some time. At this moment the
servant, Nimrod, ran into the parlour, and
told his master, as he could not read, that he
found a letter at the hall door, and supposed it
was for him. He cautiously glanced a look
at it, and saw by the superscription it was directed
to his ward. He handed it to her, at
the same time was inquisitive to know the

Miss Carolina was a generous girl, and had
no deception in her nature; she immediately,
as soon as she had perused it, gave it to her
guardian. He read it to his entire satisfaction;
and said it was sufficient in his mind
that all things were true.

The next morning Miss Carolina, (as was
her custom,) like other belles, paraded through
Broadway, under pretence of shopping. On
going to the library, she met at the corner of
Nausau-street her old acquaintance, who had
not seen her in some days. He made a reverential
bow, passed her, and darted into the
Law Buildings, while she glided down Wall-
, where she was much gazed at by 18(1)r 205
those corner gentlemen who are ever waiting
in groups, until the bank shuts; she then took
a turn to Joe Bonfanti’s, purchased a nut-
shell with a pair of gloves in it; then took
a turn with two books in her hand round
through Pearl-street. A thought here entered
her mind—she should like to have her fortune
told; and having been reminded by an
acquaintance, that one resided in Eldridge-
, she hurried there. On entering, a
haggard-looking female asked her, “what is
your name, and what is your will?”
and began
telling her, “you are very uneasy about
a person that is in the same situation. If
you behave becoming your situation you
will get him. He is, or will be soon, very
rich. He goes by a false name; and it appears
by the cards that he shakes himself
very much to get a living. Don’t laugh
at him, for his temper is hasty;”
and then she
ran over with the cards, “here is a good heart,
good luck, and plenty of money. God bless
you. Now pay me half a dollar.”

The sharp and uncouth manner of the old
hag frightened Carolina so, that she speedily Vol. I. 18 18(1)v 206
left the house; and on her return through Pearl-
, she again met her lover, who had traced
her meanderings through the streets almost
the whole day. He stopped, and excused
himself for passing her in the morning,
as he was in haste to meet his friend he expected
in the steam-boat at Courtland-street
wharf, from Pequest. It is unnecessary to
describe how cheerful he appeared at the
agreeable account his friends gave him of her
family and connections; it was to him a
source of consolation, as he knew the grandeur
of his family as soon as he met her. He
was transported, and taking her hand in extacy,
exclaimed—“Man’s hope and joy are
centered in woman; and I must now, my fairest,
where thousands are fair, importune you
to hear a few broken sentences I shall disclose.”

“Can you love me in sincerity and truth?
When I relate to you my situation, you will
find that it is far above the common walks of
life—mine is an exalted rank. I was cautious
in relating it to you: I wanted you to
love me for myself alone; and as you are 18(2)r 207
now fully acquainted with my real situation,
and I am happily informed of your’s, nothing
now can be wanting but your consent for the
completion of our happiness, which I flatter
myself you will not long delay. I will write
to your parents, and wait their answer; in the
mean time I bid you adieu, and may flowers
be strewed in your path, and on a downy
pillow may you sleep and wake not, until rosy
morn approaches and welcome you to new
delights; and when bright Phœbus has
mounted the chariot of day, may I hope to
be blessed with your consent; and as he rolls
his bright orb, and rewards all our cares with
the warmest of his beams, I will be watchful,
and then will be answered all my prayers.
Oh, then I’ll be blest, and will hasten away, With my fair, by my side, on the first day of May.”

As soon as the pretended Descartes, (that
was an assumed name, his real name being
Lionel Peetit, son of a nobleman in Paris,
whose name is well known in France, for his
virtue and integrity,) Lionel hastened to his
drawing room at Washington Hall, and gayly 18(2)v 208
led the young ladies through their several
positions, and was remarkably facetious. The
French character always acts agreeably to the
liveliness of their feelings, and they are much
elated with the smiles of fortune; when
sorrow overcasts their brows, there is no nation
on earth that apparently passes over misfortunes
with more pleasantry.

Jamais, Jamais, Mora

Pour les femmes

A public ball was announced to the ladies,
which was to take place on the following
Thursday evening; and he particularly
requested they would appear in as splendid a
manner as possible; none in the altered
clothes of their grandmother, something in the
American style, if ever so trifling, to show a
propensity to encourage our manufactures;
for all the rare and scientific characters of the
present day were invited. Also, linen drapers,
hosiers, haberdashers, scriveners, newsmongers,
&c. &c. The music, like Orpheus’
lyre animated the company; and what added
to the sublimity of the scene was the presence
of Carolina Sophia Dexter, from Pequest, 18(3)r 209
decked in jewels and every expensive ornament
that money could purchase; though at
the same time she was of that singular form,
that she was “when unadorned adorned the

On this present occasion she eclipsed most
of her sex; for when the mind is happy, the
countenance beams a lustre not to be surpassed.
After the ball the ladies returned to
their respective homes, each bosom fired with
rapture at the gay enjoyment they had recieeived.

We shall now return to Pequest, the place
we have heretofore described, and enter on
the fine farm of colonel Dexter, who was enriching
it by his attention and labour. He
was at the moment of our arrival fishing with
a small net, and caught a variety of fish,
which he generously distributed among his
neighbours; this secured him their good
will, as country friendship must be bought,
in the same manner that city civility is taken

18* 18(3)v 210

The country around was hilly, and a few
waterfalls, whose romantic echo enlivens the
mind. Miss Judith entered the house of her
friends and benefactors, and told them “a
dignified gentleman is at the hotel inquiring
for your house; the name I cannot recollect.
Landlord Humdrum requested me to
apprise colonel Dexter as quick as possible,
which I have taken the liberty to do, being ever
ready to serve you.”
Amazed and agitated
he rose and solicited Miss Judith to call and
know if the stranger had any particular business
with him, and invite him to dinner that
day. She hastened to landlord Humdrum’s,
and a gentleman of figure addressed her—
“Pray, madam, can you inform me if colonel
is in this vicinity, as I have a letter
for him from his daughter.”

“Yes, sir, I have an invitation from him to
you, as he heard you made inquiries for him,
I will introduce you.”
So they paraded to
the mansion which was furnished in the first
style. On his entrance he made a profound
bow to Mrs. Dexter, who was a lady of dignity
and acquirements. She began in the 18(4)r 211
following manner to address him: “Pray,
sir, what induced you to visit this part of the
country, is it to inspect the ores of the mines
our country is enriched with, far superior in
value to the Lehigh coal, that now so truly
warms the frozen inhabitants of New-York?
Or is it to take a picturesque view of the circumjacent
windings of the river Delaware?
or to view the ruddy hoidens that this country
abound with? or whatever inducement you
may have, I hope you will be perfectly satisfied
when you leave us.”
At that moment,
the old gentleman entered, and with that
complacency, that was so habitual to him at
the sight of a stranger, he thus welcomed
him: “Be pleased to be seated by the side of
a man who in all the vicisitudes of life cheerfully
submits to the decrees of fate, and should
for a moment any occurrence take place, to interrupt
him in his daily pursuits, or cause a
tear to fall on his aged cheek, he immediately
implores the divine disposer of events to
fortify his mind, and enable him victoriously
to triumph over the weakness frail man is
born with.”

“I hope, sir, my appearance does not occasion 18(4)v 212
any disquiet in your mind; I have just
to acquaint you that I am the cheerful bearer
of a letter, the contents I hope if agreeable
will crown my days with bliss, and make
your’s truely happy, as it is from your fair

The old gentleman opened the epistle, and
read as follows: Now my ever respected parents, I know
all my prospects of well doing will afford
pleasure; and as the better part of my past
days have been devoted to my studies to render
myself agreeable to my parents, by obeying
their commands, and as I have always
endeavoured to please, may I now hope, that
as the days of my infancy are past, and I
have passions that are not easily subdued
by reason, since I have arrived at years of
discretion, and other duties to fulfil, may I
be permitted to explain to you the sincere
wish of my heart? and if it does not meet
your pleasure, you will pardon my solicitations.The
18(5)r213 bearer, Lionel Peetit, has sought
my hand, and gave me every satisfaction respecting
his family, which I hope you are acquainted
with; and you will add to the many
tender wishes you have heretofore given towards
my happiness, if you would take this
important request into mature deliberation.
I am aware, honoured sir, that you do nothing
rashly, or inconsiderately, and that you will
answer my epistle according to the dictates
of your mind, as soon as convenient.
Respectfully, dear Father, I remain your
affectionate daughter,
Carolina Sophia Dexter.”

After a few compliments, and talking of the
weather, and the news of the day, and of the
debates of congress, respecting sending an
agent to Greece, and the unnecessary disquiet
that arose in that august body, who are
often disunited in their counsels, as appears
by their able speakers, Mrs. Dexter, observed
that “the United States excited much attention
in foreign countries, and it appeared
to her evident that we were a great people; 18(5)v 214
our debates in congress are expressive of our
great feelings in the present momentous times,
and they ought to be inlaid in gold and carefully
reserved for ages unborn.”

“I perfectly agree with you, madam; you
must remember France assisted America in
her revolutionary war; and not half enough
has been noticed of that event.”

The family were all requested in the back
room to a delightful dinner, served up in
handsome style. Lionel Peetit was delighted,
for he flattered himself he was not disagreeable,
or they would not have prepared so
luxurious a dinner. After the ceremony of
eating was over, the old gentleman gave the
following, appropriate toast, “All we wish, and all we want.”

After dinner they took an airing in their
barouche, with Lionel, to show him the beauties
of the country, and the manners of the
rustics, which I have before described; and
at their return, he politely took leave to return 18(6)r 215
to New-York. In crossing in the steam
boat from Jersey city, he was much amused
with a company bringing baskets and wooden
ware to sell. There was Joe and Chat,With a Fayette hat,Frank and Sall,Both strait and tall,Poll and Tom,Cry’d well we’ve done.
And then counted by their fingers how many
dimes they would get for their cargo, and
reckoned how much they could spare to be
joyful. There were a variety of characters
in the steam-boat; among the number was an
Indian chief with several of his tribe, on their
way to the city for beads and ornaments to
pacify them for their lands. They attempted
to sing the following ode:


Liberty, we now are taught,

By Americans was bought,

With the lives of heroes gone,

To their everlasting home.

18(6)v 216


The land we’ve tilled we wish to have,

’Tis ignorance us does enslave,

Our bosoms now for freedom burn,

We teach our sons at wrong to spurn.


May ignorance be far removed,

And vicious men who oft intrude,

Into our circles, where we all,

Pray to God, both great and small.


We’ll no longer sit and pine,

But quickly cultivate the vine,

Seize the sturdy oak, and then

Lay it low and work like men.

On our landing, great news was in circulation
from Greece: The Turks had all sunk,
or fled away, and the money that was collecting
was to be appropriated to sumptuous
feasts for the most gallant characters. All
the bells in the city rang, except the prison
bell; and the stepping-mill was ordered to
stand still twenty-four hours, at the great
event, and the forlorn females to chaunt the
following air:

19(1)r 217


Ye who sit on gilded couches,

Were your crimes, but only known,

You would not long ride in barouches;

The day is quickly coming on,


When Jove, who sits and knows your hearts

Will quickly whirl you quite assunder,

For none will rise to take your parts,

Down, down you fall, and must surrender.

On passing through Courtlandt-street to
Maiden-lane, I inquired at the house where
Miss Dexter boarded. She was just gone to
parade on the Battery, where many a tender
sigh is given to departed friends; there she
was feasting her mind with reflection on an
event that she dare not reveal to her nearest
friend. She returned to her home, and in the
evening she sung the following old song:

I have sung and have prattled with twenty young lads,

And changed them as oft as you see;

But of all the young lads that trip on the green,

Lionel is the young lad for me,

Lionel is the young lad,

Lionel is the young lad,

Lionel is the young lad for me.

Vol. I. 19 19(1)v 218

The clock struck six: Miss Dexter had
forgotten the hour. She entered the drawing
room, elegantly dressed in a pale blue
circassian dress, trimmed with white sarsnet,
which was very becoming, as she was of a
fair complexion, a small piece of myrtle in
her bosom, and a necklace of real amber.
The time passed slowly from six to seven;
but no appearance of her swain. She was
impatient on two accounts; first, for the approbation
of her parents; second, to know
what reception he had met with. She was
just making these reflections when Nimrod
opened the door and placed some wood on
the fire, the bell rang, and Lionel entered.
“I hope, Miss, I have not intruded on you
this late hour; I was detained waiting on a
lady that I reside with, as I could not refuse
to wait on her to a friend’s house; and they
importuned me to tea, which I acquiesced in;
and before all ceremonies were over, I could
not be so rude as to leave the lady; and thus
I have been delayed. I hope you will forgive
me for my intrusion.”

“Certainly, sir, I know too well the requisites 19(2)r 219
necessary to form a gentleman; for
he that lives to please the world has a trying
task, as our sex think they are entitled to constant

After a few compliments, the conversation
turned on the seat of her father; he then informed
her of the manner in which he was
received, and said he brought no answer to
her letter, as it required a little time to reflect
on it. By the next mail doubtless, he thought,
she would receive one. He then assured her
his affection was unalterable; nothing on
earth could shake it. She bowed her head,
and he took leave of her with a request that
she would so far gratify him as to go to the
theatre, as a new play was to be performed,
called Tom and Jerry. The next evening he
waited on her with a friend, Miss Witherspoon
from the Delaware, who was at her house.
My friend Billings, from the Cahoos falls, was
one of our party. When we were taking our
seats, the young ladies drew much attention;
perhaps Miss Witherspoon’s dress occasioned,
it:—It was a velvet robe of orange colour,
trimed with green fringe, and two large blue 19(2)v 220
feathers in front of her head: her eyes shone
with resplendid lustre, and it was visible in
her countenance that she was delighted. Miss
dress was quite romantic: a royal
purple Grecian costume, trimmed with white
sattin, and a beautiful ruby necklace round
her snowy neck. These splendid belles drew
much attention, as the house was not much

The curtain rose, and two fair damsels presented
to the audience a handsome painting,
representing the Grecian women imitating
the Spartan ladies, in cheering the soldiers,
and bringing them provisions, then applauding
their courage, which had a powerful effect
on the army, and excited them to deeds of

The house echoed with applauses; the
scenery was superb; the language of Cleopatra
was strikingly impressive; and a few
words that I recollected were spoke in an
animated tone.

What is this life without agreeable reflections? 19(3)r 221
Our nightly pillow is a piercing monitor, if
we have through the day studied to destroy
the happiness of our fellow creatures, and
made them miserable. On the other hand,
what afford to the mind more agreeable
sensations than binding up the wounds and
relieving wretched unfortunate beings from

Miss Witherspoon had never been at the
Theatre before, and seemed delighted with
the performance; though the exertions that
are usually made when there is a full house
were not evident that evening. The Enchanting
, a new song by an American
lady, was encored, and gave infinite
pleasure. Mr. Billings was studying the
law, just to enable him to take care of a
large estate left him by an old maiden aunt
at Communipaw, who never offended a person
in her life. She seemed not to possess
any philanthropy, and appeared to live entirely
for herself, unknown and unnoticed.
The troubles of this life that many are overwhelmed
with, to her were not known, nor
had she ever had a single wish for the continuance19* 19(3)v 222
of the world. She said it was of little
consequence what a woman did, so she led a
virtuous life and attended regularly to church,
owed no person any money, did not quarrel
with her neighbours, wasted nothing, and on
the first day of the year received her relations
and friends dressed in her best attire, and
treated them very hospitably. They then
all congratulated her on the happy new-year.
In this regular manner she lived to a good
old age—she died very suddenly, and was
never afterwards thought of; and so died in
peace and was forgotten by all mankind.
Her funeral was the largest ever known in
Communipaw. The clergy of all denominations
attended. Tears, it appeared, did not
flow abundantly; for it is a true observation,
that when people are grieved they sometimes
cannot shed tears.

Miss Caroline and Lionel paid little attention
to the performance at the theatre, being
so engaged in conversation with each other.
He could scarcely spare a moment, they were
so precious, to purchase oranges and pea-nuts
to regale the ladies, who sometimes are more 19(4)r 223
pleased with them than with the entertainment.
The comedy was an excellent one,
dramatized from the Spy, which portrayed
characters in an excellent strain.

The ladies were wishing to return home.
The gentlemen handed them into the carriage,
and after taking leave for that evening,
as the ladies staid in one house, they returned
to the theatre to see the afterpiece, and Lionel
then related to his friend the serious attachment
he had for Miss Caroline. He had
penetration enough to discover it before he
made him his confidant. They took leave of
each other in the most friendly manner, engaging
to meet again the next day, to call
and see the ladies. Mr. Billings was sorry
to mention he had a little business at the surrogate’s
respecting his aunt’s will, which
would detain him until twelve o’clock, and
then would do himself the pleasure to wait
upon him at his lodgings.

The young ladies sat up almost until
day-light, telling each other how many
lovers they had, and how they tried to 19(4)v 224
torment them; what arts they used to gain
the affections of men, and then always appeared
quite surprised when they made a
conquest. Miss Witherspoon was a finished
coquette, having so much vivacity that all
her designs seemed merely to pass a pleasant
hour. Her quick wit made her please for a
short time beyond expression, and a man was
caught insensibly whenever she designed it;
she would then torment him in a manner not
to be described. Her lover, when most
wretched, would try absence, and perhaps
banish himself to South America, Porto Rico,
or the Illinois country, under pretence of
great business. She would then in his absence
repent of her cruelty, and confine herself
at home; dress, company, and amusements
were lost on her, until his return.

After the ladies had taken a short nap,
they awoke, which to Miss Dexter was great
joy, as certainly on that day she should
see her adorer, and perhaps receive a letter
from her father. Under these impressions
she dressed herself in her usual manner,
which, as I before observed, was very tasty. 19(5)r 225
Miss Witherspoon’s heart at this time was
not particularly engaged, as her last lover
was absent, as I mentioned, and had not written
to her for fear it would not be agreeable;
for at parting she had not given him sufficient
encouragement. So she was partly free, only
sometimes she would be angry at herself, and
was determined at the next conquest she
made not to trifle with the feelings of a sincere

After breakfast the young ladies took a
walk to Chatham street, and purchased some
paper, and from there to the library to get
the last publication, which was Lionel Lincoln,
or the Leaguer of Boston, as they had
heard much in praise of it. They were anxious
however to read it, and perhaps could
not describe a single character—only repeat,
it is a good thing—I have read it; ask them
which is their favourite character, and they
will immediately change the subject. Every
young lady can relate something that took
place at a ball, (that requires no thinking)
who was the best dressed, and the handsomest.
I knew one of a gay temper, that could 19(5)v 226
if she chose, repeat all the conversation of
the company she had passed the evening
with. After their morning walk, they seemed
much pleased, for they had a bow,
from dandy Lookout, at the corner of Liberty-street,
who pretended to be much engaged
in conversation with half a dozen gentlemen,
who were only standing to view the ladies,
either to make observations or bow to them:
some are stupidly standing to receirve the solicitations
of the busy merchant. There is a
surprising ingenuity in the mind of man; for
the more trouble he has in the Wall-street
walks, the more quick is his invention and
plans to extricate himself; though at the expense
of his anxiety, many an industrious
mechanic heaps riches, and the avaricious
car-man is made contented. The merchant
then wipes the widow’s tears by his philanthrophy,
though the anguish of his mind ofttimes
is insupportable.

The clock in front of the mantle piece
struck twelve; the ladies, with novels by
their side, had a pattern of a new veil in
their hand, which they were admiring;—just 19(6)r 227
at that moment, Lionel and Billings from the
Cahoos falls entered. “I hope ladies you have
taken no cold last evening at the theatre?”

“Why, gentlemen,” very pertly replied Miss
, “do you think we would acknowledge
it if we had? No, no pleasure is so
inviting—though alloyed with pain, we would
suffer the one to be engaged in the other.”

“Well said, Miss Witherspoon, you are a
merry girl, and I hope through life, you will
never trouble other people with your complaints
of sickness and pain. For my part I
have sat in company two hours with an old
lady, who thought she was entertaining me
by relating her sufferings—such a tremour and
sneezing at the nose, and such a want of appetite;
‘I can’t exist long—I often tell my
(said the old lady) ‘that they will not
have me long.’”
The gentleman paid a short
visit, and Lionel said he should hasten to the
post-office to receive a letter for Miss Carolina,
and call in the evening at the boat, leaving
them. Miss Witherspoon observed, that
Mr. Billings improved on acquaintance. I
thought what a susceptible heart you have:
“Don’t flatter yourself too quick; Mr. Billings 19(6)v 228
appears, in my opinion, to possess a
sound mind and temper, and not easily won;
it would take at least six months acquaintance
with him, before you could find out he
loved you. So do not put yourself in trouble
with your vivacity; for if you once lose your
heart, and he find it, aye, I say, he may so
keep it that you may not in a hurry get it
again. Be cautious and quiet, and you may
in time win him. His steady temper you
cannot so easily subdue; and I shall be very
wretched to see you in pain, when I cannot
relieve you.”

In the evening Lionel came, as usual, with
the agreeable news that he had a letter for
her, and would not give it without a promise
that they would take a little excursion to Jamaica
on Long Island, which they agreed to;
and then Miss Dexter begged to be excused,
and left the room, to read what she so anxiously
wished to know.

After she left the room Lionel began to interrogate
Miss Witherspoon what she thought
of his young friend. She replied, “As yet I 20(1)r 229
have not thought sufficiently on the subject,
so as to give an opinion. I am surprised you
are always so speedy in your answers and
hasty in your opinion—I cannot but express
my astonishment.”
While in this pleasant
conversation, Miss Dexter entered the room;
joy was expressed in her countenance. She
immediately ordered tea; the faithful Nimrod
cheerfully obeyed her commands, and the
evening passed off in great glee. Lionel inquired
of the health of the family. And Miss
told him when an opportunity offered,
(for she spoke in a low voice,) she would inform
him of the contents of the letter, which
gave her pleasure on two accounts. After
the usual ceremony of tea, &c. &c., the company
separated with the intention of meeting
the next morning for their excursion.

After Miss Carolina returned to her room,
she gave free scope to her feelings, and uttered
the following tender epithets: “Oh,
what tender kind parents I am blessed with!”

and began to read as follows: Vol I. 20 20(1)v 230 My ever dutiful and affectionate daughter
—I could bear no longer to keep you
in suspense. I have the pleasure to acquaint
you that your tender mother coincides with
me in our mutual wishes for your happiness;
and as the choice you have made admits no
barrier on our parts, we freely consent, and
with it our blessing, hoping that the ceremony
of your nuptials may be celebrated in your
father’s house, where the surrounding peasantry
may have an opportunity of congratulating
you on your felicity. I shall expect
an answer as speedily as possible, so as to
prepare for the important event. Make our
kind respects to Mr. Petit—and we sincerely
pray for your future prosperity and happiness.Affectionately
your indulgent parent,Dexter.”

The jaunt to Jamaica was certainly a delightful
one. Billings was more reserved
than usual. Miss Witherspoon was as delightful
as ever; nothing could depress her 20(2)r 231
spirits—and they returned home in safety.
Lionel was anxious to have the happy day
appointed with Miss Caroline, and she, as
we before observed, was not a prude, and
consented in three weeks from that time.
Lionel sunk as it were into a lethargy, and
spoke not one word. She consented at
length, and he seized her trembling hand and
said, “I am now blessed indeed; nothing shall
ever alter my affection for you. The three
approaching weeks I wish I could sleep, and
then awake to joys not yet by me experienced.”

Miss Witherspoon returned to New-Jersey,
and Miss Caroline remained one week to prepare
her dresses and other necessaries for the
family, as she had an order on her guardian
to supply her. Accordingly, in eight days
she took the stage, and arrived at her father’s
house in one day, and found the family all in
a pleasant mood, and ready to officiate and
assist her. The drawing room was new
painted, the family pictures cleaned, and many
changing scenes took place that had not
been thought of some time before. Mrs. 20(2)v 232
exerted herself to make all the domestics
pleased; she presented each with
a new dress, which always has a tendency
to excite industry; and her cheerfulness
ever had a tendency to make things go on
agreeably in the family, and hastened the
grand preparations. All the best things that
the farm afforded were selected, and the rich
neighbours invited. The carriage was new
painted, and farmer Grumble, their overseer,
offered his services to drive them, and crop the
plough horses to make them appear as
though they had been accustomed to be used
in that way, though it is well known the carriage
had never been out of the barn since
Monroe was President of the United States.
Colonel Haislington, their opulent neighbour,
heard of the preparations that were making;
for in the country every one knows his neighbour’s
business better than his own; and all
take a particular pleasure in inquiring. The
Colonel was a jocose vulgar man; had acquired
his property by inheritance, and always
made some silly speech whenever he called at
Colonel Dexter’s. “So I find,” said he,
“your darter is going to get a man to herself. 20(3)r 233
La, sirs, there is no stopping young folks;
by gracious! I was surprised, and glad too,
when I heard it. Says I to myself, that is
the great business. Better late than never.
I wish in my heart and soul my Nabby could
have the luck to get a good husband; I would
give her the bald filly and the two old brindled
cows without horns, which I lately
bought at Dixon’s vendue, sheriff’s sale; I
know I got a good bargain, let who will pay
the piper.”

Mrs. Dexter was a polite lady; and the
presence of Colonel Haislington was always
so disgusting, that whenever she saw him
appear, in a moment she would feign herself
very ill with an anxiety of the precordia,
which so confused the Colonel that he had
not a word to say; when he would immediately
step up to the barn and see the hogs,
ask what they fed them with, as they were so
fat it did his heart good to look at them.
Farmer Grumble, the overseer, said, “Oh, it is
the lap-eared breed, imported into this country
from Ireland at the time the great Washington
was President.”
“So, so; I think I 21* 20(3)v 234
must have one,”
and quickly ran to the drawing
room. Mrs. Dexter, not expecting his
return from the barn, had assumed her usual
health, and was busily engaged in rubbing
the tumblers with whiting. “Mistress,”
said he, (for he was an old Yorkshire man,
and they call every woman they want a favour
from by that submissive name,) “I want to
buy one of your fine lap-eared pigs just for
the breed; money is no object; I will give
you whatever you ask.”

“Upon my word, Colonel,” said Mrs.
, “I know so little about the hogs or
pigs my husband owns, that you are the first
that has informed me of their valuable breed;
and as I never take the privilege of conveying
away my husband’s property without fully
consulting him, I must beg your excusing
me at this time from taking that liberty.
It is well known in this place that Colonel
is a man of noble sentiments, but how
far he can be prevailed upon to part with his
fine breed of pigs I cannot inform you. I
believe he prides himself on owning a handsome
dog, good horses, and fat cattle; but as 20(4)r 235
to pigs I can say nothing. Do call and see
him, and make your own arrangements.”

Suddenly a gentleman on horseback approached
the door. Neighbour Haislington
bid farewell, to the great joy of the family.
It was Mrs. Dexter’s brother from the Alabama
; he was governor there, and
was on his way from Congress, who were
now sitting, and had been solicited by his
constituents to petition for a new road to
Warrington, Mississippi Territory. His visit
was very agreeable to all the family, as they
had not seen him in ten years. He was a
great land speculator, and had enriched himself
early in life by purchasing soldiers’ certificates
at a small price. His name was
William Clairbourne; we shall presently speak
more of him. A messenger was despatched
for the Colonel, who was in Easton, Pennsylvania,
on an excursion with some of his
friends from Sussex Court House, now called
Newton, in honour of the great philosopher.
Scrip, the watch dog, announced his arrival.
In the mean time Mrs. Dexter begged of her
brother to be very reserved when he came in, 20(4)v 236
as she should make him believe it was the
tax gatherer; accordingly he accosted him—
“Good morrow, sir; you are welcome to
my house; please to be seated.”
After these
usual compliments—“Can you, my dear,”
said Mrs. Dexter, “discover by the physiognomy
of this gentleman who he is, where he is
from, and what he wants?”
“Certainly I
cannot; I have not half penetration to guess
even his name, much less his business.”
length a loud laugh ensued, and Mrs. Dexter
made known it was her brother George William
, whom she had not seen in
some years, as he had resided on or near the
Ohio ever since, and by industry and good
planning had amassed wealth, and by that
means was now governor. “He is now on
his way from Congress,”
said she, “where
he has been petitioning in behalf of his constituents
for a new road; but Congress being
so busily engaged in behalf of the Greeks,
they were obliged to postpone all American
concerns for a short time. In the mean time
he has availed himself of this opportunity to
pay us a visit, and seeing, during the same
time, our dear daughter, whom he had no 20(5)r 237
knowledge of, as she was so young when he
saw her last.”
Words cannot express the
feelings of the Colonel at the knowledge of
his being his brother-in-law, he was so altered
in his appearance. “Thrice welcome to our
said he, “which will afford you
comfort and ease while you are here, I hope;
and what adds a double pleasure in seeing you
at this time, is the expectation of our daughter’s
marriage, which is to take place next
Thursday, that is the day appointed; hope
that you will stay and partake of the pleasures
that we expect to enjoy.”
such an occasion would be sufficient excuse
for almost any neglect of business. I will
cheerfully stay, and will this moment write
to my family, and give them the agreeable
intelligence; but pray, who is the young gentleman
that is to gain the prize?”

“He is the son of a French nobleman. In
early life he offended his father, for which
he banished him from his presence; he came
to America, was compelled to teach dancing,
and assumed another name; my daughter
was under his instruction, and he became 20(5)v 238
captivated with her, not knowing who she
was, and she equally admired him, but did
not indulge the passion, thinking it would be
degrading to have a dancing master; so after
some time they became known to each other,
and with our consent have agreed to spend
their days together. Next Wednesday I will
introduce her to you.”

Just in the height of the conversation
neighbour Haislington called to know if he
could have a pig. The Colonel gave him
one, and he hastened home, carrying it in his
arms, transported with the idea of his increasing

Dinner was announced, of which the happy
family partook; and hilarity and good
cheer graced the feast. In the evening they
were invited to sup at Colonel Haislington’s;
Mrs. Dexter declined going, as she was
always so surfeited with his conversation.
Miss Sophia, her father, and uncle, condescended
to accept the invitation, and certainly,
for plenty and kind welcome nothing could

20(6)r 239

A large cheese of an enormous size was
cut, and his cider tapped; his children were
compelled to speak their best pieces; to do
them justice, they were very well spoken—
that was owing to the great exertions of the

“My children shall be scholars—I don’t
mind what it costs; and as to Nabby, she
has such an ear for music, I would give my
whole cabbage patch if I could get a teacher
for her. Do you think, gentlemen, she is
too old to begin?”
“Not at all, sir; you tell
me she is seventeen; that is just the age of
my Josephine,”
said George William Clairbourne,
the uncle. “Do you think your daughter
has any taste for it? It appears to me it
is only a trap to get a husband. There are
many different characters in the world.”

“Friend Haislington,” replied Colonel Dexter,
“if your daughter should excel in any
particular branch of education, base characters
would slight them, whether they were
improved or not. Do not let that intimidate
you; for my daughter has made a conquest
of a dancing master, which I hope will be for 20(6)v 240
her benefit. Why should not your daughter,
by the quick and graceful motions of her fingers,
delight?—for men think they ought to
be pleased, when they gain a partner for life.
However, you must risk her fortune to future
chances; for it matters not how they gain
the ascendancy over men, whether by the
tongue, the feet, or the fingers; all the merit
is in securing the affections when time shall
have furrowed their brows, and beauty be
lost and forgotten.”

The evening was spent in the manner described
—the young ladies amused themselves
in needlework. Miss Nabby displayed a
handsome piece of work in stars and squares,
octagons and hexagons; her father was delighted,
as he had not before seen it. He
then observed, and looked amazed at her
ingenuity; but observed, “I believe it is all
my wife’s planning”
—every good husband
wishes to give his wife praise. She was one
of those females that heap up on chairs all
their industry, not altogether pleasing, on account
of the expense of weaving it. I will
just describe the manner the family entertained 21(1)r 241
us at supper, and after that the marriage
of Lionel and Carolina Sophia, which
is to be consummated in two days, this being
Tuesday evening. To begin first with the
entertainment, which consisted of pigs, geese,
turkeys and custards in great abundance; we
all feasted, and praised every thing—made no
odious comparisons, as is generally done by
Europeans. A cockney will say, there is
nothing good in America, neither butter,
cheese nor roast beef, fit to be tasted without
a very keen appetite. However, they will
still write for more of their friends in the
third degree of consanguinity to visit this
free country, where water falls rapidly, and
no one arrests its progress.

The company all bade a good evening to
the family, with assurances of soon seeing
them again. At their return Mrs. Dexter
had retired to bed. The servant informed
them that a gentleman had come from New-
, and sent to announce his arrival. Mrs.
acquainted him with the family’s
being all from home, and should expect him
to breakfast the next morning. They all Vol. I. 21 21(1)v 242
retired to their separate rooms, and in the
arms of Somnus reposed, no doubt, until

It was a delightful morning. Aurora had
opened her purple gates, and it was to be
hoped that in a short time her paths would
be strewed with roses, to the pair who had
patiently waited for the day to appear, which
should show to the world that patience
and perseverance are the only paths to true
felicity, and that the morning of life requires
great skill to conduct to the eve thereof with
tranquillity, and serenely to prepare for lasting

Agreeably to the wishes of Mrs. Dexter,
Lionel entered the breakfast parlour; the
family gave him a heartfelt welcome, and
inquired the state of the roads, the entertainment
he had met with, and what particular
news from Europe. Miss Caroline
entered in her morning dress, in her usual
placid manner. “I am sorry to acquaint
you, Miss,”
said he, “your friend Miss Witherspoon
ran off with a lieutenant in the 21(2)r 243
navy. She married him, to the extreme mortification
of her family, and left poor Billings,
who was dying for her.”
“I always thought,”
said Caroline, “she was too volatile to make
any person happy: you have certainly heard
me make the remark before; a drawing room
was the place for her to exhibit all her powers,
which soon vanished, when serious reflections
arose in her mind. I hope Lieutenant
will overlook his ridiculous
manner, and she bless him with many happy

The family retired, and left the room;
when Miss Caroline reflected on herself,
fearing she should appear awkward when the
ceremony was performing, as she had never
seen two persons united in the holy state of
matrimony. Her lover facetiously spoke to
her, and said, “Be of good cheer, thy sacred
promises, I hope, will be fervently fulfilled.”

It was now time for them to separate for a
short period, and then to meet to part no
more till death triumphs. The day was
passed in assorting her dress and ornaments; 21(2)v 244
and on the morn of her nuptials she was
dressed in satin with four rows of lace at the
bottom, and twenty two stars emblematic of
the number of states in the Union; on her
head was a handsome Grecian wreath of
flowers; on her bosom a beautiful necklace
cut by a lapidary in New-York of American
chrystal taken out of a ledge of rocks in
the upper part of that state, which glistened
almost like diamond, and would have been
as valuable had they been placed on the beautiful
neck of Maria Louisa.

The following persons now made their appearance
on this festival day, and graced the
drawing room: George William Claibourne,
uncle to the bride, who was to give her away;
counsellor Drawback was to prepare the marriage
articles, and the Rev. Peter Whitfield
was to perform the ceremony; Miss Clarissa
, was bridesmaid, and Billings, a
disappointed attorney, was groomsman. The
remainder of the company, was the family
and a few neighbours; the drawing room was
festooned with odoriferous flowers selected
from the hot house. The time approached 21(3)r 245
fast for the solemnity. Lionel and his friend
Billings from Cahoos Falls entered lively and
animated; the marriage of Miss Witherspoon,
had not grieved him as much as was contemplated
by his friends. Mrs. Dexter never
appeared so charming, and the old gentleman
in an ancient dress looked quite venerable.
George William Claibourne led his niece to
her place, and the Rev. Divine seemed quite
jaocose, and made several pleasant stories pass
off agreeable to those who had not heard
them before, and nearly all were strangers.
Silence being observed, the company arose;
the bride and groom appeared a little agitated;
and after all persons were placed agreeably
to ettiquette, the ceremony began and
was soon finished, and concluded with a long
prayer, when, as quick as lightning, they all
saluted the fair bride, and she then suddenly
vanished into the adjoining room. After this
they were called to a splendid supper, which
was prepared for the occasion, as has been
before mentioned, and more pleasing sensations
were never witnessed. About three
weeks after their marriage they returned to
New-York, and occupied a neat house. He 21* 21(3)v 246
lived on his income, and occasionally spoke
at the forum, being a great orator. Their
uncle returned to congress just in time to
present his petition, which met a favourable
reception, as every encouragement is given
to settle the new lands owned by them; and
good roads being the first consideration. Not
unwilling to grant his petition, on his arrival
at Washington, there were great arguments
in the house by very eloquent men respecting
affairs in Europe, and the learned had an opportunity
of distinguishing themselves. G.
W. Claibourne
was a man that pleased his constituents,
not by his long speeches in the
house but by his affability at home and the
manner he received his neighbours. He had
not studied Newton or Locke.—The Pilgrim’s
, by Bunyan, was much
sought after along the Ohio; the people were
religious in a high degree; scarce an evening
passed without prayer meeting, all seemed so
devout. Their parson is the Rev. Balthazzar
; he is much caressed by his flock,
exhorts the people three times every Sunday,
and has only one collection in the morning;
he always goes regularly to church, or 21(4)r
he would never have been chosen ruler of the
people; in fact, his authority is very limited.
His wife, whose character I have not as yet
made known to you, is a native of Tennessee,
and has never been in any other state, though
a woman of information and family, and conducts
herself with propriety; and being free
of pride, she is universally beloved. She is
a daughter of Solomon Bracebridge, or Cumberland,
who now possesses a large furnace
for casting metal, which supplies all the western
country with that commodity.

“My wife,” said Mr. Claibourne, “is his
only daughter, and in time will inherit his
whole estate; her name is Loranna, and at
the birth of my daughter, she wished the
child named after herself. But being fond of
opposition, I insisted it should be Josephine;
but I frequently grieve since that I did not
gratify her, as I have only one child that the
world knows of, or that I dare own. More
on that subject will appear hereafter. How
often in this life do men differ with their
wives respecting the names of their progeny;
it sometimes causes real unhappiness. My 21(4)v 248
father-in law was much pleased with our
daughter, though he does not admire her
name. She is (though it is not for me to express
it,) the most finished girl in our country,
as from her infancy I always took pleasure
in instructing her, and though now only fifteen
years of age, can converse on any subject
—agriculture, arts or commerce, belles-
letters, drawing, and music—nothing has been
omitted to make her engaging, and I sincerely
hope she will not form any attachment until
she is twenty years of age. Mrs. Claibourne
is very solicitous that I would let her
go to Philadelphia, as she has an aunt living
there, her father’s sister, whose husband is
president of the national bank. I think now
when I return home I have some inducement
to send her to New-York, as our dear Sophia
is so agreeably situated there, and Lionel
appears so conformable to her wishes, it
would add to their comfort to have her a
short time with them. She can go to her
aunt’s at Philadelphia first, and then proceed
to New-York; but I shall request her most
particularly not to give her opinion which city
is the handsomest, as there is a great jealousy 21(5)r 249
in the inhabitants respecting each

I shall now request your patience, my inquisitive
reader, while I relate to you, in the
words of Mr. C., the manners of the people in
Ohio, and their philanthrophy:

“To begin with Major Richards, our nearest
friend, who removed from Baltimore
on account of pecuniary affairs; his elegant
family consists of three sons and two daughters;
the names of his daughters are Almira
and Portia, both lively pleasant girls; but
dress engages Almira’s attention; she spends
a great deal of her time in pointing ruffles
and braiding her hair, which is of a
chesnut colour; Portia, on the contrary, is
rather the reverse—quite a slattern, attends
entirely to the cultivation of flowers and
shrubbery; can recite the names of all the
plants and their several virtues, in the Encyclopœdia;
her knowledge is quite confined to
the garden and the hot-house; take her from
these, and she is chilled in a moment. Mr.
prides himself on his fine children; 21(5)v 250
indeed, it is true they pay strict attention to
his admonition, and are very obedient. His
sons are fond of the chase, in which he indulges
them to an extreme; they keep their
hounds; and on a fair day, the country resounds
with their yelping. The young men
are pleasing. Stephen, the eldest, seems to
be the oracle; his father intends him for the
church. James, the second, will I fear be
a gentleman, for he delights in no one thing;
and Charles, the third, is the most forward
and inclined to study. The particulars of
their several characters I will relate in a future
My next neighbour is Judge Bridgefield
from the province of Maine; has been twenty
years in this settlement; he has lost two wives,
and is now beginning to show himself at all
the funerals and prayer meetings in the vicinity.
My wife has a relation at our house, an
old maid named Priscilla Evergreen, who is
still looking out, though forty-three years of
age, but does not appear more than thirty, she
is so tasty in dress, and lively in behaviour.
21(6)r 251 The Judge accosted me the other day at
the Farmer’s hotel in our village, and requested
me to pay him a visit, which I assured him
I would cheerfully do. He named next Sunday
evening to sup with him, which I acquiesced
in, and on my returning home I informed
my wife. She being a woman of
penetration, said instantly he wants Precilla,
and takes this method to ingratiate himself
in your favour; when he returns his visit,
mark my observations. We had scarcely done
speaking when Priscilla entered, for I believe
she heard us.
‘Pretty business, to be sure,’ (she said,) ‘always
planning to make me happy. I am conscious
I do not deserve it, for whenever man,
proud man offers me his hand and heart, I am
sure to refuse it, and I cannot give any particular
reason, only an opposition in my temper,
and a fear that I shall not make myself
worthy; and so by indifference I have remained
so long single. I cannot now pride
myself on beauty; that is vanished with
youth. My family, to be sure, are ancient
and respectable, my finances are sufficient to 21(6)v 252
support me.—What must I marry for, cousin

“I will tell you for what: To maintain the
dignity you now possess; for after a few years
you cannot expect to be noticed, and then you
will sink, never to rise again, unless you take
some such character as has been pointed out
to you, whose respectability you cannot

At length the evening came, and Mr. Claibourne
called on his neighbour, who was apparently
happy with his faithful Ponto by his
side; he called loud to his man Sandy, to feed
the horse, and get some refreshment for his
friend; for he was famed for hospitality and
good living. He expressed great pleasure in
the company of his neighbour, and commended
his manner of farming; he observed, “For
my part I am so interruped with little petty
suits at law, which our country is so annoyed
with, that it is extremely disgusting to me;
but there must be a squire in every little
town; and if it was not for the great honour
of the thing, I would not attend to the business. 22(1)r 253
My farm suffers by it—the fences are
fallen, and Sandy would rather talk than
work; do call to-morrow morning, and I will
show you some experiments I have been making,
for I am an experimental farmer, and all
my neighbours know it.”

In the midst of our conversation, we were
interrupted by a loud rap at the door, when
Judge Prelude entered: “I am heartily glad
to see you alone; I hope no storm or rain has
hurt you.”
“None at all—I am just enjoying
the company of neighbour Claibourne, and I
never had an idea of farming, being only, as
I before observed, an experimental one, who
perfectly agree in opinion.”
“No doubt you
do; for my part, you know I always differ
with you for nothing, I think; but real industry,
good seasons, and putting in the crop early,
encourage your domestics by good treatment,
and feeding them plentifully, all combine
to make farming profitable. Without
these precautions you will only have your labour
for your pains.”
So the social neighbours
enjoyed themselves, until called to a
fine supper, consisting of ham and eggs, Vol. I. 22 22(1)v 254
chocolate and pancakes, of which they feasted,
and when nearly done, two roasted
fowls were presented. “Excuse me, friend,
you see what the want of a partner is; I had
forgot to tell Sandy to bring them up with the
rest of the things; but they were nearly forgotten.
Ah, how wretched is man when alone;
I am therefore determined to look out.
I have twice succeeded, and have been blest;
and now know not which is the best foot foremost.
If every man could get a wife as you
can, and most things else, by money, I should
not long be destitute. Just read the daily
papers, and all our wants can be supplied,
except securing the first of all comforts,
which is the possession of a good woman:—
But where shall lost man find her?—If he
goes to church—they are so devout that their
real character he cannot see, so different are
they there from what they are at their family
fireside;—if you take a dish of tea and a
sociable chat with them, their ogling, their
syren songs, and their smiles, are all calculated
to deceive,”

“Now, my valuable friend.” said Judge 22(2)r 255
, “what is your opinion of the
fair sex in general? though I have twice
linked myself as I thought for life, I am
again ready to make the third attempt.”

“My esteemed friend,” replied Judge Prelude,
“my opinion I never give in matrimonial
affairs, for the best of all reasons: for
should I recommend to you a young lady of
the most amiable manners, she might very
suddenly change, when she became your
wife; I then should be blamed, and never be
forgiven. The manner in which I became
acquainted with my wife, with whom I
have been blessed these thirty-two years, is
very singular:—I was travelling to Zainsville
on the Ohio, and stopped to feed my
horse and take some refreshment at the Cross
, a noted Inn; who should enter, as I
was feasting myself, but a young lady of the
name of Beavers. The landlord called out,
‘Miss, who came with you in the chaise?’
‘My father,’ she replied. ‘Oh, is the doctor
here? I shall be glad to see him.’
After a
few civilities, who should appear but doctor
. ‘This is my daughter Ann,’ said 22(2)v 256
he to the landlord: she curtseyed, being a
well-bred girl from Deits, a boarding school
in Pennsylvania.”

“The landlord addressed me, and asked
if I had any objection to their dining with
me. I told him none at all. So we all
dined heartily together; I, having travelled
some distance, had an excellent appetite, and
did the honours of the table. I helped Miss
to the wing of a chicken and some cranberries;
the doctor said he thought salt meat
more wholesome, and so took it. The conversation
turned on a variety of subjects between
the doctor and myself; but the young
lady was very reserved. The doctor said he
had many patients with the small pox in his
place. I gave it as my opinion that vaccination
was a great preventive. I cannot however
persuade the people near Zainsville to
that method. After the cloth was removed,
the doctor and the landlord went to see the
horses fed. I remained with the young lady;
and was so far acquainted with the world
as not to lose a moment when opportunity afforded
to be happy:—‘How did you like 22(3)r 257
(I thought I must introduce some familiar
subject,) ‘and how long was you there?’
‘Three years, sir,’ she replied, ‘is the shortest
time that they admit young ladies. Their
manners and customs became very agreeable
to me after the first year; there is such a perfect
regularity in their school, that no one can
be displeased; music, drawing, embroidery,
&c., take their separate turns; the mildness of
the tutoresses, in conveying instruction, affords
indescribable pleasure; the morning and
evening prayers are so soothing and instructing
to our young minds, that it is a perfect
paradise, and many young ladies continue
there for life.’
‘I assure you, Miss, you give a
very satisfactory proof of the advantages you
have acquired, and if you had continued there
I should not have been at this moment in
your delightful company!’
‘You praise me
undeservedly, sir.’
‘Not at all, Miss; and as
time will not permit for us long to see each
other, may I be emboldened to hope that you
would condescend to listen to the few words
I have to relate.’
‘Certainly I cannot be so
rude as to prevent a gentleman of your appearance
conveying his sentiments in any way 22* 22(3)v 258
he may think proper.’
‘Then my adorable
Miss Ann Beavers, I consider this as the
most fortunate meeting of my life; and may I
hope that my passion is not disagreeable; but
can I flatter myself that in time I may render
myself deserving your good wishes?’
Just in this manner Judge Prelude was
committing himself to Miss Beavers, when
the doctor and landlord came in. ‘My dear,
are you ready?’
‘Yes sir,’ replied the young
lady, though somewhat confused at Judge
pretensions; and the conversation
so suddenly interrupted was not altogether
pleasing. They left the Inn, and the doctor
invited the judge if he should pass his way
he hoped to have the pleasure of his company.
He bowed assent, and they parted. The remainder
of the courtship will be introduced
in a future page.
Judge Bridgefield now began to be impatient
to seek a wife, and he consulted governor
Claibourne, if he could not introduce a
character that would suit him.
22(4)r 259 ‘Sir, they say charity begins at home; but
as you do not wish a wife for charity sake,
I have just thought of one; however, you
must keep it a profound secret that I was the
promoter and adviser, as the lady I have in
view is a distant relation of my wife. She
has some property in the savings bank. To
be frank with you, I think she will now marry,
as her mind is bent that way; she has
confessed to me that she had two often trifled
with sincere affection, and when too late
saw her errors. Time had passed imperceptibly
away, and left her alone, when she had
many sincere offers of marriage. Her name
is Priscilla Evergreen: I shall in a few words
give her character. Her age I do not exactly
know; that is of little consequence for a
third wife. In her person she is tall, and
graceful; in her manner, easy and unaffected;
in conversation, lively and animating,
having from her youth been fond of books;
she is a complete historian and novelist;
can relate the names and characters of all the
kings of England since the time of Ethelred
to George the fourth; their barbarity, their
licentiousness, and all their good and evil propensities; 22(4)v 260
her temper is passionate and warm;
but the moment she can reflect she is herself
again. I can say for Miss Evergreen,
what few relations will do, that if her heart
was once fixed on a man, no power on earth
would change her—she has such a regard for
propriety, and the breath of calumny has
never yet branded her fair name. She is as
the clear rill—it may for a moment murmur,
but look at the flowing good it produces, and
every eye beams pleasure. Now, my dear
friend, after enjoining secrecy, I must bid you
good night, for fear some suspicions should
arise in the bosom of my wife, whose uncommon
penetration may discover my plan. I
shall not name a day to see you at my house;
but rest assured if any thing I can do to make
you happy, I am at your service.’
The friends
parted, but not until Judge Prelude informed
the gentlemen, when next they met he would
relate to them the manner he obtained his
wife. It was near twelve o’clock when
Judge Bridgefield retired to bed, and Mr.
found Miss Evergreen and his
wife sitting up reading the Pilot.
22(5)r 261 ‘Bless me, ladies, why did you wait for me?
My friend’s watch, which runs on wheels,
deceived me, and mine I forgot at home; it
was just as well, for it never keeps time. We
had a fine supper, and I had a friendly welcome.’
Mrs. Claibourne, began to try to
find out particulars; but I passed off the conversation
with, ‘My dear, we have got a letter
from New-York by the mail, from our dear
niece who has a fine son, and wishes of all
things that we would let Josephine pay her a
visit next spring; she says she would be delighted
with New-York; she has many valuable
acqauintances, and her society is very good.
Mr. Petit, has heard from his father in France,
who sent him a large sum of money, when he
heard he was married to an American lady;
their son is to be called Alphonse, after him.
The theatre in that city is crowded: Mr.
and Miss Johnson excite much admiration,
and the Merchants’ Exchange, which
is now planning, engages the attention of the
mercantile world.’
‘Well, my dear, I think we will retire to rest
and I will make up my mind respecting Josephine; 22(5)v 262
all we can at present do is to encourage
her to laudable pursuits, suppress pride,
and make her know that the female character
has always a more difficult part to take in
life’s large field than their youthful minds are
aware of. Let us instil in her the love of virtue
and benevolence, and to consider herself
no better than the poorest of God’s creation—
that the little finery she may be decked with
makes her no better than the humble cottager.’
Miss Evergreen interrupted Mr. Claibourne:
‘Consider, sir, you are governor of
this territory; surely you wish your daughter
to have that share of dignity which her situation
requires. The pride of her heart, if you
choose to call it so, need not appear in her
air or demeanor; let gentleness and good humour
appear in her countenance; gayety and
fashion in her dress, and above all things, wisdom
and good sense breathe in her conversation,
so as to enliven and amuse her company;
such accomplishments must win the
heart in spite of philosophy. You, Miss
, with all your wisdom, have never
made a good bargain for yourself, though 22(6)r 263
self preservation is the first law of nature—
surely you cannot advice what you have so
obstinately bent your mind on—the breaking
of many a tender heart; for which, I hope,
you will not suffer. Time will unraval all; so
good night.’
Early next morning colonel Richards from
Baltimore, one of our neighbours, (for the
country is thickly settled on the Ohio) with
his eldest daughter, made us a visit. She, as
I before observed, paid great attention to
dress; she rode up to the door, elegantly
mounted on a Maryland poney, with feathers
flying and ringlets flowing over her face, and
thus addressed my daughter, Josephine: ‘How
do you do? how do you like my bonnet papa
brought from Baltimore?’
‘I like it very well
—they are the handsomest feathers in the
country; the ostrich is not to compare to
them; I think a young lady looks very vulgar
without feathers on horseback,’
said Miss
‘Do alight Miss.’ Mr. Robinson excused
himself, as it was town meeting, and he wished 22(6)v 264
himself to appear of consequence, which
is customary in the country. So he took
leave and passed off. The family of the governor
remained at home, at their usual avocations.
Eight or ten days passed, when, to
their extreme surprise, on a rainy morning,
Judge Bridgefield called to pay the family a
visit. Miss Priscilla was in her dishabille;
Miss Josephine was drawing; Mrs. Claibourne,
knitting; and they were all confused
and taken by surprise. Miss Priscilla hastily
left the room, and was completely mortified,
determined to give the watch dog, Towser, a
good beating for not alarming them. She returned
to the drawing room apparently composed,
though she could not get over the first
impressions she most negligently must have
made over the judge; he on his part had come
purposely on that rainy day to have an opportunity
of finding them alone, and perhaps to
show his new great coat. He was well acquainted
with the ways of women, having
been twice married. He began complimenting
them on their industry—that was the first
topic, and a powerful one it is, when a man
is looking for a wife. ‘I think, Judge,’ said 23(1)r 265
Mrs. Claibourne, ‘that industry is the sure
road to wealth, while education is the side
walk to honour, and sensibility is the source
of happiness.’
Miss Priscilla observed that our
comforts depend on ourselves; a contented
mind, Solomon says, is a continual feast; ‘I
beg pardon, Miss, I must admit that our happiness
ofttimes depends on others; mine hitherto
has been all made in that way, and I
see no happiness alone—in society there is
some.—What do you think, Mrs. Claibourne?’

‘I perfectly coincide with you, sir, and I think
life too short to triffle a moment away.
Early and late man should, by all honourable
means, enrich himself in mind, body, and estate.’
‘Ah, my dear madam, there is such a
perverse disposition in many persons in this
life, that nothing but misery awaits them.’

‘My heart is ever open to the afflicted, and
my purse I freely give to the sons of want;
but when a person is afflicted in mind, neither
food nor money satisfies.’
In a few moments
the governor entered, who received his neighbour
in the most friendly manner, giving him
a wink at Priscilla, who sat like patience or
a monument smiling at hope.”
Vol. I. 23 23(1)v 266

Miss Josephine entered and presented one
of her last drawings; it was Bonaparte going
on board the Belorophon, with hasty step,
like every other movement of his life. “How
are the mighty fallen!”
exclaimed the judge,
“and the humble lifted up.” The ladies now
having recovered themselves, began to be very
lively; the governor requested the judge to
spend the day, which he declined, assuring
them that the next week he should do himself
that honour—the day he could not exactly
name, as he had several lawsuits to settle
for his litigious neighbours. He then took
leave, and cast a longing, lingering look behind,
at Miss Evergreen, and departed over
the lawn.

“My dear,” said Mr. Claibourne, “you have
not perused the letter from New-York; I
should suppose you would be desirous to hear
from your sister Mrs. Dexter at Pequest, who
you have often told me was a pattern of conjugal
felicity. Hand me the letter, and I
will peruse it.”

23(2)r 267 “To his excellency George W. Claibourne, Zainsville,
near the Ohio River.
New-York, 1825-02-12Feb. 12, 1825. Kind and ever to be remember uncle, I
have the happiness to inform you that fortune
has favoured me with one of its richest treasures;
I am become the mother of a fine son,
who I have named Alphonse, after his grand
papa in France, which gives my husband
great pleasure. To describe his face or form
would be useless, as it will so often vary; this
much I can say, his eyes express a look indicative
of goodness. I hope, my dear uncle,
as I have but one short request to make that
you will gratify me—it is, that you will permit
your dear Josephine to pay us a visit
next spring. New-York has become one of
the most opulent cities in the United States,
and is the resort of all the fashionable world.
My care and attention shall not be wanting
to make all things agreeable. My tender respects
to my dear aunt. My father and mother
at Pequest are well, and are momently
expected here to congratulate us on our fine
son. Adieu! and may nothing on earth disturb 23(2)v 268
the repose of either of you, is the sincere
wish of your Niece,
Caroline Sophia Petit”

“Bless me, how these women teaze me!
Must my only daughter, perhaps my only
child, who I love as the apple of my eye—
must she now throw herself in the way of
some adventurer, who will in a moment
snatch her from our tender care? Why not,
my dear, procrastinate this visit one year longer,
and by a few presents, and pointing out
some amusements, prevail on her to be content
at home? Music and drawing take up
much of her time, and if you would allow
her to associate with our good neighbours she
would be happy enough; she is an obedient
daughter, and she would not for the wealth
of the Indies offend her father.”
“How can
you refuse her going to New-York, she is so
handsome—and beauty is of short duration.
She may captivate some worthy character in
that magnificent city, and add to the dignity
of your family.”
The next morning Judge
called on governor Claibourne informed
him that on the next morning, he 23(3)r 269
would call and continue to relate to him and
his friends the manner he gained his wife, after
many difficulties, which he did in the following

Miss Ann Beavers and her father, the
Doctor, rode slowly until they came to the
farm, which was situated near the Miamai
, a most romantic abode, where hung in
clusters round the arch in the garden, grapes
of the most delicious flavour. Miss Ann
was intimate with Miss Portia Robison,
a female scientific botanist, that could
almost enumerate all the plants of Linneus,
and wisely expatiate on their different virtues.

The weather was calm and serene; the
young ladies amused themselves in fishing,
the stream being near the door, and at intervals
when the sun was near setting they
amused themselves in the garden in search of
four-leaved clovers, to dream on. One clouddy
morning, as the young ladies were amusing
themselves, who should enter the garden,
but myself. I bowed respectfully, and Miss 28* 23(3)v 270
, immediately inquired if I had met
her father, who was gone to vaccinate some
poor children in the village. I told her I had
been surveying a small piece of land, for that
was the business I was accustomed to, and I
had the chain and compass in my hand. She
immediately invited me into the parlour,
where sat an aged lady who was grandmother
to the Doctor. She could relate many
scenes in the revolutionary war; she was in
the army with her husband, who was a corporal,
and could minutely relate the taking
of Burgoyne, as her husband was under general
; she now receives a pension from
congress, and is apparently in good health.

“Pray, madam,” said I, “how old are you?”
“I am seventy-six years of age next harvest.
I often tell my grandson I think I will live
until I am one hundred, having never been
confined through life more than a day or two
at a time with any kind of sickness.”
have been greatly favoured, madam; for
health is an inestimable blessing, and he that
is in possession of it does not sufficiently
prize it.”

23(4)r 271

The Doctor returned home, and invited me
to dine on a fine leg of mutton and turnips.
The young lady did the honours of the table,
as the Doctor’s lady was confined to her
bed. After dinner an excursion was proposed,
and agreed to, and the ladies prepared
themselves; it was to see a new manufactory
lately established for making broadcloth.
We had not rode far, when one of the horses
took fright, and compelled the other to run,
and in a moment we were precipitated down
a steep hill. I caught my dear Miss Beavers
in my arms, and was the happiest of mortals,
to have it in my power to save her life; her
friend rose without assistance; but the Doctor
was nearly killed and taken home by a friend,
who left me in charge of the ladies. This
was the lucky moment for me to revive that
endearing friendship, which first began at the
crosskeys, and so suddenly interrupted. While
her friend was absent out of the room, I thus
began: “Do you recollect, my dear girl, how
I was interrupted by the landlord? But before
I arrived at the end of the sentence I was
interrupted by ‘Bless me, sir, surely this cannot
be a time for such conversation, when I 23(4)v 272
know not my father’s situation; he may be at
rest for ever for all I know. I beg, sir, you
will not add to the sorrow I already feel any
thing that will cause a sigh, far be it from
me to grieve you—I could die in your arms.’”

“Then why, for a moment, put me in suspense?
only let me hope that my attachment may
in time meet a return—I will then wait until
the age of Mathuselum to obtain you.—Do,
lovely girl, smile on your adorer, and let this
accident be the era of our happiness.”

“To be frank and generous then, my dear
sir, if you will allow me one year to consider
your proposals, and at the same time to try
my own heart, I will indulge you with hope;
at the same time I must request, on your part,
that you will absent yourself from my father’s
house, as our neighbours are very inquisitive,
and I should be teazed to death; in the mean
time I can aver that no person is in possession
of my heart; I am as free as I was in
my infancy, and beg as a mark of your goodness,
that you will refrain from any more
tender expressions. I look for no elevation
in this life; I have by my education at Deits 23(5)r 273
been taught to temper my mind according to
events, and not be hurried on to rashness, but
calmly to consider what is best to be done to
make life agreeable.”

“Charming Miss! I will no longer vex you
with a further recital of my passion, but will
according to your wishes banish myself from
your presence for one long year. I am certain
I shall count every moment until I again
meet your smiles, which all the powers on
earth cannot prevent me. Rest and be happy,
and believe that nothing shall alter the
sincere affection I have for you. Adieu, adieu.”

I rushed from her presence without reflecting
what I should endure, and left the ladies in
the charge of a friend.

The doctor arrived, having not been so
much hurt as was apprehended, and the family
were all reconciled to the accident that
happened. While the fair are engaged, let
us just take a view of judge Bridgefield’s
farm, near Zainsville. It was handsomely
situated on the bank of the Ohio, a long meandering
river that empties into the Mississippi, 23(5)v 274
and is now continually filled with
steam-boats. Very few accidents have lately
occurred, as the river in a great measure is
cleared from old trees. The great geographer,
Hutchins, was the first that surveyed it sixty
years ago; and one of the first proprietors of
the soil near the two Miamies, two beautiful
rivers that emptied into the Ohio, was John
Cleve Symmes
, a judge from Morris county,
New Jersey, who obtained a great farm from
congress, of one million of acres, at three
cents an acre. It is now thickly inhabited
by men of sense and wealth, and will in a
future day be the most valuable spot in America.
Judge Bridgefield’s house was in the
cottage style; trees in front—two wings and
serpentine walks in his garden; handsome
shrubbery round it, and a number of magnolia
trees, which perfumed the place as their
flowers are of a peculiar fragrance. His domestics
were few, and he had no children by
either of his wives. A distant relation, an
old woman about sixty, was his house keeper.
Her name was Nauche. We shall have
occasion to speak of her in future: all I can
say at present is, she was very ill tempered; 23(6)r 275
and this alone was sufficient to make the
judge anxious to get a companion.

It was on Easter Monday, and all his domestics
from home: he mentioned to his
house keeper, that he should spend the day
out; she was inquisitive to know the place.
He would not satisfy her; and as he seldom
left home, she was fearful he had some lady
in view, for he had been preparing himself
by having a number of shirts made and done
up in the best manner, had his hair cut, and
had a new suit of clothes made, all indicative
of something she could not tell what.

“Now,” says she, as he was mounting his
large bay horse, all cropt and trimmed with
a long switch-tail, “I am afraid you are going
to fetch trouble home; you don’t consider you
have had two good wives, and that is more
than falls to the lot of man; how can you expect
to get a third? Depend upon it, the
third will make more trouble than you have
ever had. Do consider you have not youth
and beauty to recommend you—and woman
must be pleased, or there is no living with 23(6)v 276
them. If you marry a young wife, you may
perhaps be jealous without a cause, and that
is the worst of all jealousy. If you marry
an old one, she will be expensive for dress,
&c. &c.; so take my advice and stay at home,
and smoke your pipe, read your bible, feed
your hogs, visit your neighbours, go to church,
and please yourself. Now I have given you
my advice, for I have seen much of the world,
and know that interest, not affection, prompt
too many to tie that knot which is not so
easily loosed, and spend their latter days in
sorrow and misery. I have buried two husbands
—God rest their souls—and I hope they
were satisfied with me. I tried hard to humour
them—for men are all like children,
they have so many foolish ways.”

The Judge paid no attention to her dialogue,
but hastened to governor Claibourne’s.
As he approached the house, it was some distance
from the road, tTowser barked, and the
governor called him; every thing shone with
refulgent lustre—particularly the knocker at
the hall door. He entered with animated
looks, and was politely received by all the 24(1)r 277
ladies. “We have had redundant rain, which
makes the roads almost impassible.”
suppose, sir,”
said one, “we have not been
from home: Sometimes we are a dull thinking
set, always moping.”
“That,” said
Miss Evergreen, “is your own fault—I suppose
you can go if you like. We are not restrained
from going from home, but being so
accustomed to it, we cannot get in the habit
of visiting.”

“Now you know,” replied the governor,
“that I often ask you and my lady to take
an airing in the barouche; but you think the
horses too wild, and I think they are not very
far from walking, so you stay at home for
choice; however, you shall not always make
that an excuse, I will insist on your not excusing
yourself when spring appears.”

The conversation turned on the wretched
state of the Greeks. News had just arrived
from Washington by mail that large
sums are collecting in the different states to
send to their relief; and I have myself, says
the judge, been called upon to make a collectionVol I. 24 24(1)v 278
to aid them, which I shall next week begin.
I should not like our country to appear
contemptible and wanting in charity.

The family were called to dinner, and
Miss Priscilla was placed at the head of the
table to give her an opportunity of carving
and displaying her politeness; she dissected
a pair of fine fat ducks while Mrs. Claibourne
amused the company. The governor boasted
that every thing on the table was of his
own raising, except the salt. They then
feasted, and Judge Bridgefield praised every
thing. When people are happy every thing
is good in the country; but discontented persons
find fault with every thing, it matters
not; the winds all perplex them. After dinner
the family retired and left the single people
to themselves. The Judge began: “I
think, Miss,”
addressing himself to Miss
, “it appears singular you have never
blessed some gentleman with your hand and
heart; a disposition like yours certainly would
sooth the thorny paths of life, and make a
heaven on earth.”
“You flatter me, sir, undeservedly.
Since I have had the pleasure of 24(2)r 279
your acquaintance, which is a short time,
nothing has happened in your company to
cause any uneasiness. As for my part I
should be miserable indeed, and not worthy
to breathe, if I could not so far govern my
temper as to be agreeable in a drawing room
where nothing is said to offend. The method
to find out a lady’s disposition is to see her in
pain and poverty, not in cheerful company.”

“Excuse me for my sudden opinion, as you
have, I assure you, gained such an ascendency
over my destiny, that time I fear will not
eradicate it. It certainly is a boldness to
mention my inclination to you, that have no
doubt frowned on much more worthy characters;
however, I lay myself at your feet,
and must submit to your tender feelings for
an answer. It is true, I have not to boast of
titles or grandeur, fame or honour; mine is a
sincere attachment, founded on esteem; and
if kind treatment, due attention, and acquiescence
to your wishes, lay any claim to your
preference, then I flatter myself you will be
mine. I have possessed goodness and worth,
but alas! the day is past, for which I study to
be grateful, and I must wait with patience 24(2)v 280
when other fair days may return. The vicissitudes
of life are felt by all; no doubt your
bosom has not been exempt from many of
the miseries of life. Trifle not, then, most
amiable girl, with a sincere affection, that
took possession of my soul the first interview
I had with you. I shall now leave you, and
ere bright Phœbus has rolled her orb many
days I shall expect from your fair lips soothing
consolation—then I shall triumphantly
exclaim. Hasten then, make no delay,Let this be our bridal day.”

I then suddenly took leave and insisted the
family would be sociable, as he seemed determined
to visit them as often as convenient.
The governor accompanied him nearly to
his own farm, and was inquisitive to know
what impression he had made on her obdurate

“My dear friend, I certainly never hinted
the plan of yours and mine to bring this business
on the carpet; I know she does not suspect
you. I flatter myself she will in time 24(3)r 281
condescend to accept my hand and heart, I
did not wish to be too hasty, fearing she
would doubt my sincerity. I have left her
to her own free deliberation. If I am not
mistaken she will be mine. I earnestly intreat
you not to rally her about me, and request
my dear Mrs. Claibourne to be quite
indifferent on the subject, and then she will
not suspect us. And now, worthy sir, I most
humbly thank you for your kind attention
and advice, in this most important affair of
my life; and if I can add to your family comforts
be graciously pleased to command me.
At all times hail, rain, or snow, or when the
tempest rises, and the storm threaten devastation,
freely send to me and I will cheerfully
risk my life to serve him who in so
kind a manner endeavoured to strew my
path with fragrant flowers, and make the
thorny road of life agreeable.”
The friends
parted, and retired to their downy pillow,
awaiting joys not to be described by the pen
of the most ready writer, and can only be
described by those who have tasted of the
sweets that flow from hearts united in love
and friendship.

24* 24(3)v 282

Early next morning, awakened at her
usual hour, Nauchie, the house-keeper, making
her voice heard by the domestics—she
seemed in great emotion. The moment the
Judge came out of his room, “good morrow
morning to you,”
she exclaimed, “if it is not
too late.”
“Not at all—never too late; better
late than never,”
repeated the Judge.
“What is that you mean,” said the indignant
Nauchie, “I always thought and have heard
you mention, take time by the forelock—
make hay while the sun shines—cut your
coat according to your cloth.”
“I do not understand
your double meaning,”
said the Judge.
“Well, I say again, evil be to him that evil
Thus this dialogue continued every
day, and the longer the conversation the more
bitter were the sarcasms. It had nearly ended
in a discharge of the housekeeper, had she
not buckled to, and become quite mute.—
Sometimes she would say, young folks think
old folks fools, but old folks know young
folks fools. She was parable wise, and had
a very retentive memory—could always find
some expression adapted to the subject she
was upon, though very ancient.

24(4)r 283

The Judge took an airing this day, as it
was very pleasant, and crossed the Ohio with
Judge Prelude, whom he had not seen in
some time; he kindly inquired when he had
seen the General. He said he expected him
to dine next day, and should be happy in his
company likewise, which he promised; and
then the friends took leave of each other.
Mrs. Claibourne was waiting dinner for her
husband, when a person rode up with a second
letter from New-York, from her niece’s
husband, Lionel Pettit, who had just received
intelligence of the death of his father; he died
of apoplexy, and left his estate in such a manner
that his son could only receive annually
so much as to support himself, and the remainder
to his grandchildren, of which, at
present, there was only Alphonse, who was
now one year old. He mentioned he had
been at the Pequest a few weeks since, and
Mrs. Dexter had been confined to her bed
nearly four weeks, to the great loss of her
family and society in general, as she was so
interesting and intelligent, never tiring her

24(4)v 284

Mr. Dexter continued in his industrious
habits, but felt a poignant regret that his
daughter could spend so little time with them,
as her family cares took all her attention, being
an excellent housekeeper; preserves,
pickles, blamonge, custards and every delicacy,
she could prepare; and her receipts
were solicited by many ladies of distinction,
who pride themselves in making expensive
dishes, to the destruction ofttimes of their
posterity, who every vacant moment of their
lives revile their ancestors for not leaving
them sufficient to bask in the sunshine of
prosperity, and regale themselves with nectar
and ambrosia. Every new fashion, either
cap or gown, was to be seen at Mrs. Pettit’s;
and all the pleasant little adventures of her
friends she was sure to extract from them by
her artful demeanour; so her house was the
seat of intelligence to all the inquisitive belles
in the city, who were much amused at the
information they acquired; and it might be
truly called the fashionable fireside of worth

Little Alphonse was caressed, and magnified 24(5)r 285
to the skies; his nose was so like his
father’s, his hair like his mother’s, and such
flattering from the visiters, not always pleasing.
However, we must allow for the ways of
mankind, and not ridicule the customs of
people unlike ourselves. But this great truth
I have established—nothing passed so well in
this vain world, and delights our ears so
much, as well-timed flattery. The ruddy
milk maid, when she observes you gazing at
her white pail and making remarks, is quite
pleased. The stately matron, with her healthy
offspring, prides herself in their florid looks;
while the sturdy husband determines they
shall be learned and wise; he is so lost himself
for the want of education, he determines
in his own mind to have them educated, so
that they may become ornaments of society,
should they be the most stupid beings in existence.
Only tell him their eyes are bright,
and they look as if they could learn—he is
then transported.

The governor now remarked to his wife,
that as she had suggested the idea of sending
their daughter to New-York, it appeared 24(5)v 286
now to him that it would be extremely benecial,
as their neiiece was in such good circumstances
and kept such improving company,
and to their daughter would be a source of
infinite satisfaction; and he should wish, of
all things, that Miss Evergreen would assist
in preparing for that event, she being a tasty
lady. “My dear, you know how much citizens
look at dress; without it you are not
noticed, even though you are the daughter of
a governor. The citizens laugh when a
country justice, though he may be a near relation,
calls to see you, if his hair is long, or
his boots not polished, or his hat too large—
they sneer, and are ashamed to introduce him
to their acquaintances, and so invite him at
all unfashionable hours to come, and then
they are sure to walk out with you when their
genteel moneyless friends call on them, or
leave a card; for to be always dressed you
can never save money: altogether to be a
gentleman, or to appear like one, requires
skill and management.”

“I have now, my dear Mrs. Claibourne, to
observe to you, I am engaged to-morrow to 24(6)r 287
take a family dinner with our friend Bridgfield;
he apologized to me for his housekeeper’s
being such a termagant he dared
scarcely invite a friend to dine; and as she
was a near relation of his last wife’s, he did
not like to offend her. But, said he, I assure
you, my friend, she embitters many of
my lonely hours. I expect Judge Prelude
will be of our party, as he has promised to
finish the short history of his life which he
commenced some time past.”

End of Vol. I.


Changing Scenes,

A Description of the Men and Manners of
the Present Day,

Humorous Details of the Knickerbockers.

In Two Volumes.

Vol. II.

By A Lady of New-York.

America now can boast some pleasing themes,

Since her canals afford such silver streams;

That her fair daughters, whose enlightened minds

Cannot be flattered by the poet’s lines.

Printed for the Author


Be it remembered, That on the 1825-09-19nineteenth day
of September, A. D. 1825
, in the fiftieth year of the Independence
of the United States of America, C. S. Van Winkle,
of the said district, hath deposited in this office the title of a
book, the right whereof he claims as proprieter, in the words
following, to wit:

“Changing Scenes, containing a Description of Men and
Manners of the present day, with Humorous Details of the
Knickerbockers. In two volumes.
By a Lady of New-York.
America now can boast some pleasing themes, Since her canals afford such silver streams; That her fair daughters, whose enlightened minds Cannot be flattered by the poet’s lines.”

In conformity to the Act of Congress of the United States,
entitled, An Act for the encouragement of learning, by securing
the copies of maps, charts, and books, to the authors
and proprietors of such copies, during the time therein mentioned;
and also, to an act, entitled, An act supplementary
to an act, entitled, an act for the encouragement of
learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts, and books,
to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during the
times therein mentioned,
and extending the benefits thereof
to the arts of designing, engraving, and etching historical
and other prints.

James Dill,
Clerk of the Southern District of New-York.


Changing Scenes.

Chapter I.

The appointed day arrived, and the gentlemen
all agreeably seated, smoking segars
after dinner. Judge Prelude began as follows:

“After I had banished myself from Miss Ann
, I was wholly undetermined what
route to take to cheer my spirits and banish
her from my mind. One year seemed an
age: how could I endure this absence? I then
thought to myself, I will disguise my person,
and place myself not far from the Ohio, and
undertake to be a miller. I am acquainted
with that business, my father having owned
one on the Brandywine, in the late revolutionary 1(2)v 4 war, which was destroyed by the British.
Accordingly, I travelled twenty miles
down the river, and settled at Muskingum,
and engaged in the mill of John Zuniker.
He was a good man; his character had been
made known to me, and his wife was kind and
good natured, and occasionally mended my
clothes. I engaged myself for eleven months,
at ten dollars a month, to tend the mill. I
assumed the name of Bartes Zeek, and declared
I was of a German family; so they
concluded I must be honest. I was very
quiet and reserved, for fear I should betray
The greatest difficulty I encountered was
in answering to my pretended name; but I
told them that, unfortunately, I was a little
deaf, and by that means brought trouble on
myself. To keep up the deception, I did not
at first think of the difficulty I had to encounter;
for as my whole mind and character required
complete finesse, all my faculties to
prevent being found out were soon exhausted.
However, it had this tendency, it banished,
in a great measure, my tender concern for 1(3)r 5
my dear Ann, who, I would ofttimes flatter
myself, must be mine, and the idea of her
made all things pass along cheerfully. I slept
very little, I ate less, not being accustomed to
labour. It was a severe trial, but the goodness
of Zuniker and his wife made my life
happy; and as they were very religious people,
I was quite at ease, and entered in all
their society; I was never suspected of being
an impostor. Indeed, my respected friends,
I had no evil designs; all I wished was to obtain
the pride of my heart; and as she had
doomed me to one year’s absence, I chose
this method, that I might hear of her and
learn how she spent her time. My changing
my name had an evil appearance, for which
I gave many an unavailing sigh; but I certainly
had no evil intention.
Now, my dear friends, three months had
elapsed since I had become a deceiver in the
honest family, and it required all my attention
to continue the same story. One day, as my
situation became painful, I addressed Mr. Zuniker,
and told him I had a relation down the
river that I was anxious to see; and as I had 1* 1(3)v 6
been with him three months, and was perfectly
satisfied with his treatment, I should
return again. Mrs. Zuniker also assented to
my proposal, and particularly requested I
would finish my agreement, as it was in
writing. I then travelled down the river opposite
Zainsville to have an opportunity of
hearing of Doctor Beavers’ family, whose
welfare was near my heart. On my route
down the river in a large flat boat, I recognized
an old acquaintance that I had not seen
in many years; he was from Vermont; his
father was in the possession of land to a vast
extent that he only held by occupancy—his
name was M’Namara. He accosted me by
my real name. I then made a confidant of
him, as he was the friend and companion of
my youth, which he assured me should be sacred
—no torture should rend the secret from
his bosom.
In a few days I stopped at a cottage, suiting
my dress and appearance. The old woman
sat spinning; the old man was ill of a
fever. This was about fourteen miles from
Doctor Beavers’. I mentioned to the old
woman that I thought her husband was very 1(4)r 7
ill. She said she had no one to send for the
Doctor. I told her my friend M’Namara
would immediately go for him. I then enjoined
him to make every necessary inquiry
about the young lady, and then I should
cheerfully return to Muskingum, and pleasantly
attend the mill. According to my
request, he crossed over for the Doctor, while
I concealed myself until he had visited his patient;
for the old people did not know my
name, and they never asked me. In a short
time the Doctor arrived; he took the old
man’s arm, felt his trembling pulse, looked
sad, and then told their friends that the brittle
thread of life in him was nearly extinct,
and they must, by all tender epithets, tell him
that his weary pilgrimage was nearly finished,
and that he must fervently pray to the Giver
of all consolation to forgive him any sins that
he might have committed, in mind, body
or estate, so that he might sing hallelujahs
to the Lamb that was slain, who for our
transgressions freely gave up his life.
M’Namara was studiously trying to find
out where Miss Ann was; which he at length 1(4)v 8
discovered: she was gone to New-York, as
stages now pass to that city in a very few
days. She was on a visit to a relation residing
in Broome-street, who is Cashier of one of
the banks—a very desirable situation. She
intended staying six or eight months, and
complete herself in some of her acquirements
commenced at Deits. Her father had received
one letter from her. She had been at the
Greek ball, and was much admired. The
following air was sung at the theatre by a
young lady of New-York:
‘I. Greece, famed of old for arts and arms, this day A tribute claims from all America, Whose eagle’s wings expand o’er injured man, And welcomes him with all the good he can. II. Our lofty forests, whose unbending trees Invite these worthy sons to sit at ease— After a few short years of labour, then You’ll brave the storm, and all become great men. III. Who would supinely sit and see the great Sip all the nectar at ambrosial feasts, When all can happy be?—without delay, Welcome, thrice welcome to America:— 1(5)r 9 IV. Whose daughters fair, with manners quite serene, Prefer European manners, airs, and mein; Whose tender hearts yield to the power of worth To leave their parents in an hour of mirth. V. Ye valiant, then, and free-born sons of Greece, Welcome, kindly, to this land of peace; Leave all your sorrows, and be good and gay— Welcome, thrice welcome to America Cerena.’ She had also been highly amused at the
theatre; had witnessed the striking powers of
Miss Kelly; and the singing of Mr. Keane
had transported her, so that she was delighted
with a city life, and could spend her days
there. She had also been at the forum, and
many other places of fashionable resort, and
should write frequently to her parents, whose
kind treatment to her and great indulgence
should be duly appreciated.
M’Namara said he intended staying in this
part of the country some time. He probably
would get a good school, as he understood
the languages. So the friends parted, and 1(5)v 10
Bartes Zeek, the imposter, returned to old
Zuniker’s, where they gave him a kind welcome;
and as his mind had been somewhat
composed, he now could work cheerfully.
At times he would be chagrined, and
say to himself, who knows what time may
do? A lovely young girl, in the bloom of
youth, just entering into life, certainly will
have many admirers: will she think then of
me? ‘Great God!’ he would exclaim, ‘what
shall I do if I am disappointed? I will call
on the rocks to fall on me—I will whistle to
the winds that she was false to me. What
will it avail? Though I weep to myself into
a fountain, she will not hear me;—all I
can do is to try to love another. There are
many daughters in this land of liberty that
could make a man happy. Ah, me! I now
sigh in secret, but not without hope.’
After eleven months had elapsed in this
uncertain state, he finished labour and settled
his accounts, and then hastened to Zainsville.
Miss Ann Beavers was momently expected;
and the name of Bartes was set aside, and the
real one assumed. Judge Prelude took lodgings 1(6)r 11
at the City-Hotel, and in a few days he
heard Miss Ann had arrived home.
On the wings of pleasure, he sought every
opportunity to see her; at length a thought
came o’er him, that she would appear at
church, as is customary, on the following Sunday.
He went, and after the sermon she
met her lover at the door: he assured her
that the next day he would call and see her.
Knowing that Sunday is always a visiting
day in the country, he would go the next,
which he accordingly did, and then revealed
his long hidden secret to her who commended
his constancy, in words most soothing:
‘How shall I reward such fidelity? My age
is not the age of reason; and I have many
fears in my mind that you will be disappointed
in me. However, if you will risk all my
faults, here is my hand—my heart you have
possessed, I cannot tell how long; and if I
embitter your days I ought to be abhorred.
It is a chance you are willing to try, and I
hope God will bless us. Now you have another
obstacle to surmount—that is the consent 1(6)v 12
of my parents.’
Accordingly the next
morning he waited on the Doctor, and in the
following strains addressed him:
‘Sir, you have a daughter whom monarchs
might kneel to, and whose sterling worth is
not yet estimated; could I indulge a hope,
that my attention toward her would meet
your approbation, I should be extremely
happy. Words cannot express my sincere
attachment; and if aught in my behaviour is
disagreeable to you, let me hear it from your
own lips, never divulge it to another.’
‘I am truly surprised, dear sir, at this suden
application. My daughter has not arrived
at an age to discriminate real from pretended
affection, and sorry should I be if she
did not prove worthy your choice. Youth is
the season for joy and felicity, and age has
no comforts only in the prospect of their
progeny doing well.—Pray, sir, consider
and reflect, that our daughter is sufficiently
engaging, when all things are prepared to
grace the table, to welcome friends and pass
a pleasant joke; but for solid comforts, she 2(1)r 13
is too unskilful in the world’s wild arts. She
may indeed crown your days with happiness,
but I think it a serious risk. Far be it from
me to discourage you; she shall be mistress
of her affection; I will throw no weight in
the scales against her. But take my advice,
that, wait till a few years roll on, and she
be better acquainted with the duties she has
to fulfil.’
‘I can no longer wait—my passion is the
most refined and exquisite; I could not endure
it a month longer; do then, my dear sir, bless
me with your consent, and I will kiss your
feet and humble myself in the most submisive
After all these fine promises,
Doctor Beavers consented that they should
be one, and on the following Monday they
invited three young ladies and as many gentlemen,
and they mounted on horseback as
was customary in the country, and went to
Parson Ogden’s house, and were married according
to the established custome of the Episcopalians.
And then Judge Prelude, after so
many mishaps, was made happy.
vol. ii. 2 2(1)v 14 Now, gentlemen, I have given you a long
and true account of the many difficulties I
had to surmount, in the most momentuous trial
I had to gain her, who for thirty years
that we have been united seemed as one day;
and nothing can alter our happiness. Consider
and be wise, neighbour; you have been
twice linked, and the chains suddenly broken
be careful how you rivet yourself again for
fear of the trammels of misfortune.”

Dinner being announced, the three friends
mutually congratulated each other on
their comforts in life, while many unfortunate
worthy characters were pining in want
of necessary food—how thankful ought we
to be for God’s mercy to us.

Judge Bridgefield said he was on the tiptoe
of expectation. “God grant” said Claibourne
and Judge Prelude, “a quick enjoyment
of your wishes.”
The conversation turned
to a variety of subjects, among which was,
when Miss Josephine was going to New-
. Her father said in a few weeks, as
her cousin was preparing a few articles of 2(2)r 15
dress for her. The Judge listened attentively,
and after many other subjects, they were
anxious to know who would be the next
president. They thought as New-York was
the most flourishing state in the union, perhaps
one might be selected. A gentleman soon
entered their dinner parlour, from Washington,
and greeting them with the pleasing information
that Mr. Adams was duly elected,
which gave great satisfaction to the people
at large.

It was now a late hour; the gentlemen took
leave of each other, and just as they were
leaving the room, Nauchie, the house keeper
entered: “How do you all do this time? I
thought as how you had forgot yourselves, and
had got to sleep, so I thought I would give
a peep.”
“No, no, Nauchie, we have been
telling neighbour Bridgefield he looks so
pleasant we must come again until he gets a
good wife.”
“That is well put in—he has had
two prizes, and they say in the lottery of life
there are two blanks to a prize; and as he
has had the prizes, if he ventures again he
must expect a blank; the world is so divided 2(2)v 16
it would not be fair that all the corn should
fall in his basket.”
“Oh, I think” said Claibourne
“there are as good fish in the sea as
ever were caught”

They all parted good friends; and the next
day Miss Priscilla kept a look out for the
Judge, thinking it most time for him to renew
his tender tale, which broke off so suddenly
when last they were together. The
lawn was swept, the knocker cleaned, jumbles
made, and every thing prepared in the
house for his grand reception. Mrs. Claibourne
put on her fine clear starched cap;
Miss Evergreen her large paste ear-rings glittering
like stars. The day being pleasant,
they all took a walk in the lawn in front of
the house, when towser began to bark, and
the ladies saw approaching Judge Bridgefield,
upon his large bay horse with a long tail almost
down to the ground, a fine sportsman’s
saddle, embroidered silver stirrups; in fact, he
was gayly caparisoned.

“Good morning, ladies; a fine day for
recreation and pleasure. How is his excellency? 2(3)r 17”
“Just gone to court—there is a
great trial—two men taken for passing counterfeit
money; and it appears their trial will
be very interesting, as they criminate many
not suspected.”

“Oh, I think I will go also.”

“Won’t you alight?”

“Not now; I will do myself the pleasure
of spending the evening with you; for his
excellency will then be at home.”

So he gallopped off, and Miss Priscilla
had an opportunity that day to make up her
mind for her future happiness or misery.

When they returned to the house of the ladies
all pursued their different occupation, and
Miss Evergreen gave vent to her tears in her
chamber, while the following reflections agitated
her mind:—“I am sensible he prefers me
to any of my sex; but what a task it is to
please a man! I have witnessed so many
conjugal broils, and more especially in old 2* 2(3)v 18
men—they are so peevish and obstinate, and
so penurious in general, they will scarcely
allow a pair of shoes to their wife, and many
so extremely jealous you cannot leave them.
What a state of perplexity I am in! ’Tis true,
I have just sufficient to support me without
being beholden to anyone; why then should
I encumber myself with a husband? Perhaps
his temper may be overbearing; and
after we are united it will be too late to repent.
I think I will call on Mrs. Claibourne
and consult with her; she is my tried friend;
we are connected also by the ties of blood;
she will assuredly advise me for the best. I
will hasten to her as I would to a mother,
and will unbosom myself to her.”
Just as she
was in this reverie Mrs. Claibourne entered.

“Why so melancholy, Coz?”

“I will just relate my feelings to you,”
replied Miss Evergreen, “and the situation
I am placed in. Our neighbour (you know
who I mean) is to spend this evening with
us; when last he was here (now do not tell
your husband, for he knows nothing of the 2(4)r 19
business,) he declared himself my lover, and
permitted me to reflect on it, and give him
an answer. I never thought seriously of it
until now; but as he is to be here this evening,
I feel like a child that has not studied his
lesson, and is to be called upon to rehearse it
by his teacher, when alas! he knows it not.
That is my situation, my friend; and what
shall I say or do? Please to advise me, for
I have always through life been guided by
your good counsel; and now, in this important
moment, leave me not to fate. You know
my disposition better than I do myself—and
what is to be done? Pray inform me, as it is
now three o’clock, and short will be the time
that I am to be arbitress of his destiny.”

“Well, my dear cousin, in such affairs how
can you apply to me? Sure your own heart
must be your prompter. If your neighbour
has made any impression, my advice will not
be taken. But, summing up your fortitude,
ask yourself—do I love him who requires me
to give my hand to him as a partner for life?
For feeble woman wants a friend in her declining
years, and it is not every day that 2(4)v 20
fortune favours her. Therefore seize the
golden moments, and make a paradise on
earth. The sun is nearly setting, and I hope
a brighter day will appear to you than any

A loud rap at the door announced the
Judge’s arrival. He entered the room with a
dignified composure to meet the fruition of
his wishes.

“You have had an agreeable ride this
said Mrs. Claibourne.

“Quite so, madam.”

Miss Priscilla entered the room in a careless
manner, and made a low courtesy, for she
was very graceful in her manners, and
dressed very tasty; she had a moderate degree
of vivacity, not bordering on rudeness,
and had a general knowledge of things which
made her quite conversant. They all met in
the dining room to tea, and it was her task to
entertain the company. After tea they retired
to one corner of the room, when the 2(5)r 21
Judge accosted Miss Evergreen in his usual
tender manner, and begged of her, as she
valued her own happiness, not to trifle with
his, as time was too precious to let a moment
pass unimproved. “Sir,” said she, “you
have put me to a very severe trial, and I have
not yet chosen counsel. I feel myself unable
to speak; as the poet says,
‘For little shall I grace my causeIn speaking for myself’”

“Let me, then, my fair tormentor, anticipate
your wishes—let me fold you to my bosom,
that pants as the fleeting deer while
pursued in the chase. Excuse the comparison,
and let me depart triumphant and bless
my better stars, and serenely hope you will
be mine ere Sol again sinks to rest; let tomorrow’s
dawn prepare you for our approaching
nuptials, and do let us be blessed”

She sunk in his arms, and gave him her
hand in token of acquiescence, and he then
exclaimed, “May time make us dearer to
each other; and may we be as the loving
hind and the tender lamb.”

2(5)v 22

So they took leave, and the next week
was agreed upon for the celebration of their
nuptials—she then condescended to go and
see his house the next day at 9 o’clock, to
name the persons that were to witness the

Nauchie, the house-keeper, being in an
uncommon good humour, had prepared every
thing in the neatest manner; for it is an old
remark, that the greater the scold, the more
industrious the matron; and it is a true criterion,
if a woman rises early and puts on a
clean cap, she is undoubtedly capable to
manage a house.

They had an old family block, the oiling
and putting that in order was the most trouble
the family had.

All things being now prepared, the judge
retired to Miss Priscilla’s: after the usual salutations
that passed between friends, it was
mutually agreed that the Rev. Amaziah Norcross
should perform the ceremony, and Miss
Amelia Coriander
should be bridesmaid, and 2(6)r 23
Jasper Andre groomsman; some of their
nearest friends should be present, whose
names we will omit.

Accordingly, the lovers agreed that at 5:00five
in the evening they were determined to be

Miss Josephine came tripping up stairs, as
Miss Evergreen was preparing her dress.
“Now Coz, papa has at last consented that
I shall proceed to New-York early next spring,
and I am greatly indebted to you for assisting
Mama in preparing for my departure. I shall
be very particular in describing every occurrence
that takes place, by letter, which will
be directed to Miss Priscilla Bridgefield, near
Zainesville, Ohio. What a handsome name!
the sound is more melodious than the boblinkin’s
notes in spring, and fires my bosom
with hope, that perhaps in some sequestered
spot now sits brooding one who is destined
for my guide and direction in this life of care,
where joy and sorrow are so linked together.,
it is impossible to extricate them. My Dear
Friend, drop not a hint to my tender parents 2(6)v 24
who I am sensible are buoyed by expectancy,
that I will raise myself so as to merit their

“In New-York, I am told, the first settlers
from the Netherlands flew from persecution,
as they thought, and were the Reformed Calvinists,
people of industry, sobriety, and honesty;
and their descendants are now somewhat
changed, by their marriages with other
nations. When they first emigrated it was
customary to answer to their christian names,
which, if it happened to be Hendrick, which
is Henry, they went by the name of Hendrick,
till at last the family forgot their surnames,
and after that they went by the name
of Hendrickson.
The women in those ancient days paid due
reverence to their husbands’ opinions, whether
right or wrong; and this advice was handed
down from mother to daughter, and so on
from generation to generation.
The reverend divines had great influence
with the ladies, and they were feasted with 3(1)r 25
the first fruits of the earth; of every thing
that was killed they shared a part. Paries
among these Knickerbockers ran so high,
that they could not endure those of another
opinion. There were the Vanderbaracks and
the Vanderspiegles—they were the the ready
advisers on all interesting cases, such as the
encroaching on each other’s shad fisheries.
Nothing so much roused these ancient people
as the least appearance of design to remove
their neighbour’s landmark; and instead of
taking counsel of an attorney, they always
apply to their dominie, give him a good dinner,
plenty of how wafils, raw smoked beef,
quinces, and oley-cooks, which the good lady
presented by the touch of her fair hands, and
in general laid a pyramid at the side of your
tea-cup, the higher the more welcome; and
if you were not agreeable they would be as
silent as possible, never offend you by sarcasms
on your friends, as is now the general
custom—no argument in these happy days of
the Dutch burghers who should be the next
ruler, which is now the prevailing topic of
busy insignificant pretenders to public good,
when selfish views of aggrandizement is the vol. ii. 3 3(1)v 26
secret spring of these plotters to encumber the
state with more taxes, to tease the minds of
good industrious farmers. These were the
ancient golden days of commercial prosperity.
I have been informed that my cousin Pettit
has made himself acquainted with all the customs
of the first settlers in the New-Netherlands,
which is now called New-York; he
has assured me that the information received
is well authenticated, and means to make me
write them all for posterity. As cousin Pettit
is a man of property, he is delighted with
the idea that it is in his power to be amusing
to ages yet unborn; for New-York being one
of the most splendid cities in the United
, so at this time nothing can be more
entertaining than a correct retrospect of past
events, (the present enlightened inhabitants
seem so much to thirst for knowledge,)
and give more satisfaction than an early acquaintance
with the customs of their ancestors.”

“Ireland produces so many topographers
that their country, it appears by their writers
seems ever to have been the first in the world 3(2)r 27
for producing statesmen, warriors, poets, mathematicians,
and divines; indeed America
is indebted to their learned sons for instruction
in many branches of literature, which the
hardy ingenious yankee now has so completely
imitated, that co-equal which the
many public schools which our wise and
great saviour of his country advised and directed
for the benefit of the American republic,
bears ample testimony.”
“Why, Miss Josephine
, you have undertaken a
task which will employ you many vacant
hours, which I am fearful you will not accomplish,
as there will be so many amusements
in the city for a young lady which
will be more pleasing than a history of ancient
and present fashions, that I have my
doubts of your firmness to finish it: young
minds are ever ready to begin many things, but
it requires a firm and steady character to continue
a work of such magnitude as you have
undertaken, with the assistance of your relation.
However, I flatter myself, for the honour
of the family, that no inducement will swerve
you from your determination, and that you
will by every convenient opportunity inform 3(2)v 28
me of the progress you make. Your cousin
Caroline Sophia will be so engaged with her
little son Alphonse, that you will need not be apprehensive
she will interrupt your narrative;
and what a gratification it will be to Bridgefield
to have such a relation. All I have to
request is that you will not, as is too often the
case with writers, be too prolix.”

“I am much obliged to you,” replied Josephine,
“as next week I go, and shall not return
again to Zainsville in one year. I shall now
leave you to regulate your dress, as you have
not much time to spare.”
At that moment
Mrs. Claibourne and her husband entered
the room. “We have just got another letter
from Caroline Sophia. She is very much
pleased that we have given our consent to let
our dear daughter spend one year with them,
and the manner in which she is to be employed
will be both gratifying to us and improving
to herself.”
“The Governor informed
the family that he was invited to a fox chase
the next day across the river at his friend
Judge Prelude’s; a number of gentlemen
from Washington city, since congress broke 3(3)r 29
up, wished to see the country, and are now
at the Judge’s house. Some are from the
Mississipi, and some are from the Indiana territory
—great speakers in the house. The
Greek subject had been ably expatiated upon
by them, and they would return to their constituents
with joy, for those were subjects
which engaged much of the time of congress,
such as roads and attempts at canals—they
fire the eastern people so much that they are
all in a blaze at their rhetoric; this will ever
be the case, for the eastern and southern people
are always at war in words, their pride
and manners are so different. One man
prides himself in dress, another in family,
and in large demesnes, which is something to
be proud of. My wife’s pride is in her only
daughter; and that I think a laudable pride.
So, ladies, to-morrow I leave you for my short
excursion; and on my return I shall be very
particular in giving you a description of these
gentlemen, their appearance, manners and
education, and their particular propensities.
You must not blame me for my criticism;
they may perhaps amuse you—that is all I

3* 3(3)v 30

The day being pleasant, the Governor
crossed the Ohio, and the sight of the hounds
transported him; he hastened to the mansion
of his friend, which was furnished with great
taste. Some of the finest pictures of ancient
and modern characters were hung in his
drawing room. Among the number were Saint Nicholas, the Dutch saint, and one of
the great Van Tromp, the renowned Dutch
admiral. The next was a representation of
General Washington, in the year 1789one thousand
seven hundred and eighty-nine
, taking
the oath of president in the old City Hall of
New-York, fronting Wall-street. The crowds
of citizens that visited that metropolis were
very numerous—a description of that important
event is not necessary. His figure was
exalted; and his praise was echoed by
thousands, similar to the present adoration
paid to General La Fayette, our nation’s
guest. There were many more sublime
things at that great event, which I shall not
now describe—sufficient that the house was
Gothic and grand.

Mrs. Prelude, whose character has been 3(4)r31
portrayed in this volume, from the time of
her being at Bethlehem boarding school by
the name of Miss Camilla Beavers, until her
union with the Judge; and, if my readers
have any recollection, it will be sufficient to
know, that she has not lost any virtues she
possessed, but in a great measure improved
them since she has become a wife. It is a
great encouragement to the rising generation
that matrimony does not lessen the female
character. On the contrary, if she meet her
kindred soul, she improves as the smiling
sprint by the refreshing showers.

At length the gentlemen were all introduced
to the Governor.

This is the honourable Thaddeus Hodgkiss,
from Alabama, whose display for his
country’s good was evident, when he wanted
to have his country near the Tombigbee all
drained, the expense not regarding, to make
it more healthy, for which he is continually
imploring means to benefit the rising generation;
if it cannot now be accomplished, they
will undoubtedly do it. He appears a gentleman 3(4)v 32
of domestic manners, and thinks a
comfortable fireside preferable to foreign

The next is the honourable Cyrus Bountiful,
from the Arkansas territory, a deep
penetrating character, always officious to
drain his constituents for public institutions,
such as jails, hospitals, and lunatic asylums.
He seldom makes a motion in the house until
he first obtains the opinion of his colleagues,
and then immediately his wishes are
obtained as soon as applied for, having obtained
the yeas and nays before suggested. This
saves much expense to the country, and likewise
shortens the session. After him I was
introduced to the worthy Conrad Kriperstein.
He was born in Olmutz, Germany, and is
now a representative from Pennsylvania. He
is a patient, good man, never did or said any
thing withouut mature deliberation, and is certain
to perform all his promises, ever so trivial.
The only time he ever spoke in congress
was when they wished to prohibit importing
horses. He then felt warm; he loved
these animals better than any of his family, 3(5)r 33
(his wife excepted,) and he saw no reasoreason
why a man might not make money selling
horses as well as any thing else, as that would
encourage farmers to procure a good breed.
For his part he fed his horses with the same
grain he did his family, only a little difference
in preparing it; “and it was the more befitting”
(making use of his own words) “to sell horses,
as they had for a long time left off selling
negroes, who were many of them such an
abominable race, that he wished them all free
and sent to the Turks, as they were in general
so treacherous to white people. In my
country you never see any black skins, and
when I first landed in New-York I was
frightened when I saw black people, and
thought they were all young devils.”

3(5)v 34

Chapter II.

A great hunting party near the Ohio, and a splendid
entertainment at Judge Prelude’s, with several appropriate
toasts—with a description of Conrad

The different gentlemen being now introduced
and become acquainted, an excursion
after the fox was proposed by Judge Prelude,
and the beautiful hounds let out, whose cry
echoed through the air. Ponto, the leader,
with his collar of hbrass, was foremost. The
sportsmen gayly mounted their steeds, all except
Conrad Kriperstein, who begged as he
would for his existence that he might be excused,
for in all his life he had never been
hunting; and his wife Christina, were she
to hear of it, would never forgive him, she
was of such an inexorable temper. He had
been married to her for ten years, and she never
yet had been truly angry with him; for she
said, that if ever he did intentionally offend
her, she was sure, as she knew her own temper,
she could never forgive him. So he was 3(6)r 35
fearful of the first offence. A good lesson, I
think, for men of all nations, to be fearful of
giving the first offence to their tender wives.
The company consented to leave Conrad
with the ladies, while the gentlemen pursued
the fox.

Conrad Kriperstein amused himsef at seeing
the hogs fed, and viewing the land and
young colts of his friend, his pasture and
meadows, and quickset hedges. His ditches
he did not approve of, as it wasted too much
of his land. During the absence of the gentlemen,
Mrs. Camilla Prelude was inquisitive
to know if Mr. Conrad Kriperstein liked the
country along the Ohio as well as Olmutz in
Germany, or Pennsylvania:—“Oh, my good
lady, when a person is on his own place,
he is at home, aber he may tink dat is not all
gold dat glitters. I like Sharmany very well,
but de groote heere drink all de swill; but
we say in dis country dat de still sow sucks
all de swill; not so in our country—we have
so many counts and barons and high mightinesses,
dat de are poor indeed; and if it were
not for de high taxes dat oppress de poor with, 3(6)v 36
de could not live; and den de are so proud
de will not look at de poor clodhopper like I
was before I came on board de Goedevrouw
(dat was de name of de vessel wat brout me
to dis goudt country;) for aldough I had
to work very hard de first two years for
my passage, I do’nt care a stiver, for den I
am now as good and grodt as any republican;
dough in my own country I had not so much
as a vote; and may be I had staid till now I
would not have had one yet. De woman
what you call de fair sex in dis country, who
are so deluding and kind, work very hard in
my country. Sometimes you will see dem
wid a basket on der back, wid a child in it,
and one by der side, working in de fields,
while der strong husband is dressed up in
military uniform, receiving dree cents a day
and rations; and den de men is constant
fighting, for de know not who or care, while
de poor woman, if de want any ting, de must
do widout, or work in de manner I have told

“Pray,” interrupted Mrs. Camilla Prelude,
“are your parents alive?” “Oh yes, madam; 4(1)r 37
my fader he makes hitchells, and moder and
de rest of de ingenious family make and paint

The peculiar taste of the country is strongly
exhibited in the colour of the articles that
are shipped to America, where mother and
child are ofttimes pleased with a sixpenny

The inquisitive Mrs. Prelude, having satisfied
herself of the origin of Kriperstein’s
family, she was looking up the road, and saw
a cloud of dust arise; in haste the procession
appeared; the fleeting coursers, and ruddy
riders, whose bright eyes shone like so
many stars, came rushing in. Bacchus had
aided him with his potent draughts, and they
alighted more merry than wise. In haste a
splendid dinner was announced, and Mrs.
did the honours. The gentlemen, in
the hilarity of the occasion, forgot to mention
they had taken a fox, and in a moment the
servant was ordered to present him to the
sportsmen; and the gratification was to them vol. ii. 4 4(1)v 38
of more consequence than if they had taken
one of Bonaparte’s fine standards, obtained
at Tilsit.

After dinner a variety of toasts were drank,
among which were the following:

By the lord of the Mansion.— “A speedy
reformation to men and manners.”

By Mr. Hodgkiss.— “May the trees of the
forest in America be speedily felled by the
sons of oppression from every part of the
terraqueous globe.”
Loud huzzas.

By the Honourable Cyrus Bountiful, from
the Arkansas territory.—
“May the first wish
of Solomon be impressed on our minds when
he was chosen to govern the people; that is,
may wisdom guide our councils, and sincerity
be the touchstone of honour.”

The usual ceremonies of polite people were
next in order, and after Mrs. Prelude left the
dining room, the last toast was given:—

“May the storms of life, whatever region 4(2)r 39
we inhabit, never make us forget woman,
angelic woman. A second loud huzza.”

Then followed an enlivening song by the
honourable Cyrus Bountiful, as follows:


Columbia’s fair daughters, like gay flowers, will

No fragrance here scatter around,

But perish for ever the side of yon hill,

And wither above the cold ground.


Unless that you tenderly share in the woes

That life’s busy cares oft surround,

You’ll perish for ever, and have no repose,

And wither above the cold ground.


Then quickly, fair maidens, improve while you can,

And join in the muses’ gay throng;

Be cheerful and gay, make happy one man,

Not wither above the cold ground.


The snowdrop no fragrance nor beauty can give;

The lily, that’s fair to the eye,

Without the dew of the morn cannot live,

Will wither, and quickly must die.

4(2)v 40


With Martha, the fairest, whose charms all can see,

I’ll wander the world all around:

Her heart and her hand shall forever be free,

And not wither above the cold ground.


The company then rose, and after the usual
ceremonies they all retired to their destined
homes, and Conrad Kriperstein shook the lady
and fdamaged4 lettersy by the hand, and in fervent blessings
on their heads, hoped that the longer they lived
they might be, as old wine, the better; and
then hoped he might find his affectionate
wife, whom he had never yet offended, smile
at his return—not saying that though she had
never frowned, she had never smiled on him.
He was the last that took leave; and the
amilyfamily all returned to their different occupations
on the Ohio, while Governor Claibourne
crossed that beautiful river, which
now appeared with more grandeur than heretofore,
as he had been longer from his family
than he intended. They were all in the hurry
of preparation for the event that had been so
long in agitation; and at his approach his
wife and lovely daughter embraced him affectionately.

4(3)r 41

What a solace to the heart of man, at his
return to the bosom of his family to receive
a heartfelt welcome! It is truly flattering,
while, at the same time, it depicts his character.
On the other hand, when a sullen tyrant
enters his abode, even the watch dog looks
melancholy, and all the wretched family dull
as at the funeral of a person they do not grieve

Miss Priscilla Evergreen, for the last time
in this history that she will bear that name,
appeared to her relations, nearly dressed, and
in a silent, solemn manner, approached her
friend Claibourne. Thinking that suited the
approaching occasion, he saluted her, and
requested to known if she was perfectly resigned
to give up liberty and property to his
friend; for if a lady is bent on happiness,
there must not be any deceit or dissimulation.
And he assured her, as being her best adviser,
that though it was the last moment, as it
were, if she felt the least repugnance to his
friend, she would now openly declare it; for
in the event of time she would be most miserable4* 4(3)v 42
if she did not put implicit faith in his
conduct and integrity.

“My true and ever dear friend, how can
you for a moment question my sincerity and
good opinion? From my earliest youth,
when I was firmly bent on any thing, no
power on earth could change me. I am like
the turtle dove, true and sincere.”

In a few moments the company assembled,
and Mrs. Claibourne received them courteously.
Miss Josephine did her part.

The reverend Amaziah Norcross appeared
in front of the house, on his high dappled

Miss Coriander and Mr. Jasper were sitting
tete-a-tete in the hall, debating on and
remarking the different characters that presented
themselves. The bride and groom
then appeared in full dress, and Miss Coriander
taking her by one hand, and Mr. Andre
taking his friend aside, they all placed themselves
in one corner of the room; when the 4(4)r 43
reverend divine began some pertinent remarks
to Miss Josephine and Miss Coriander, the
two young ladies who, as I before observed,
were not deficient in repartee. I had forgot
to mention a young gentleman from West
, a cadet, who was of the company at
the nuptials; he was of the family of the
Crawfords, a relation of Mrs. Claibourne’s,
and had particularly distinguished himself in
the art of arms—could go through all the
evolutions with great exactness.

The company being all assembled, the candles
snuffed, and every one placed according to
etiquette, the solemn ceremony commenced;
when the bride was so overcome as to be entirely
insensible for some minutes. Salts were
applied, and she speedily recovered. The
ceremony was but two-thirds over when the
fainting took place; and I assure you, never
such a sensation did I witness in such an
assembly before; some thought she was dying;
however, she recovered. The divine
thought it most prudent to delay the concluding
of the ceremony until she was perfectly
recovered—the conclusion being more 4(4)v 44
congenial to her feelings than the first part of
it, where they promised to do so much for
each other. To a mind like Miss Priscilla’s,
I am not surprised at the excitement it produced.
The latter part of the ceremony is
so enchanting, no one would be affrighted at
it. They were then solemnly pronounced
man and wife; and the priest hoped she
might be like Sarah and Rebekah, fruitful
and obedient, in the name of the Father, &c.

The usual compliments passed; and, according
to things agreed upon before, the
happy couple, after tea and other refreshments,
proceeded to the farm house about
ten o’clock. The company amused themselves
with dancing to the melodious music
of Toney, the village fiddler, who was dressed
like Don Quixote, with a helmet, for the occasion;
and this singular circumstance excited
more curiosity in the country around
than all the other part of the entertainment,
for every one in this country has heard of
Don Quixote; but never has he been personified
as a fiddler before. Every scene being 4(5)r 45
over, the company retired at an early hour,
that is, two o’clock.

Miss Josephine shed tears at losing her
friend and relation. Her mother assured
her, as she was shortly going to leave them,
she should not be so unhappy. She assured
her parents, at parting, that she would
write as often as convenient, and give all the
news of the day, such as the rise and fall of
fashions, feasts public amusements, &c. But
the history she was going to give of the ancient
Knickerbockers in a novel form they
must not expect the least hint of, until it
reached from Maine to the extremity of the
United States. And then I hope, my
friends, you will not ridicule my attempts.
You cannot expect the style of Peveril of the
or Quentin Durward; or should you
chance to find some singular characters
like those represented in the Spy, do not
turn indignantly away, but pass on until
more engaging characters strike your fancy,
such as Sitgrieves, whose skill surpasses that
of all the sons of Esculapius of the present day;
and were he now here, he might find out an antidote 4(5)v 46
to the prevailing alarming much-to-be-
dreaded disease, for which no name can be
found in the Lexicon to give it sufficient malignancy,
which the present age is infected with.

“My dear mamma,” said Josephine, “I
hope you will not repine when I am absent;
if I thought you would, I think I could not
endure it. I am told my cousin is good tempered
Caroline I mean; for I do not mind
men’s tempers, for we can shun them. But
an ill-tempered woman, sitting by her own
fireside, who can retreat from in winter,
especially one of the family?”

“I have this to assure you, that fame
speaks of your cousin as a pattern of excellence;
and my chief object in sending you is
to reap the benefit of her example. The ties
of affection from parents to their children are
so strong, that they forego their own felicity
for their children’s good. Now, my dear
daughter, so far from feeling any anxiety at
your departure, I rejoice more than words
can exrppress; and the task you have taken on
you to perform is a great pleasure to my 4(6)r 47
mind. To-morrow is the day fixed on for
your leaving us. Your father will conduct
you as far as the city of Washington; though
it is out of your route, I wish you to
see it, as in a future day it may hbe pleasing
for you to tell your offspring, that you have
been at the Capitol, where great characters
from all parts of the United States meet to
display their wit and talents, and where foreigners
of distinction, from every clime, are
obliged to resort. If in public situations,
their eloquence, most profound, is displayed,
wit enlivens their keen remarks, and all the
learned who live by the display of their genius,
find the sweet repast not only in benefitting
their country, but increasing their families’
comforts, which are a source of delight to
the world in general. Our desire to obtain
wealth is implanted in our natures; whatever
philosophers may say to the contrary I do
not agree to, for self-sufficiency is evident.”

The day at length arrived, and Miss Josephine
proceeded, accompanied by her father,
to Washington city, where she remained
one week, so as to make all remarks in her 4(6)v 48
power in that short space of time. Congress
was then sitting in their splendid hall, which
vies in grandeur and magnificence with the
parliament house in London. The city of
Washington stands on a large level spot,
three miles in length. The houses, at present,
are at a distance from each other; and carriages
are required to convey the gentlemen
from their lodgings to the Capitol, which is
a superb building. The Potomac bridge is
one mile and a quarter long. The country
around Washington is in general good land,
and much of it not cultivated. The Virginia
mountains appear like blue clouds, they are
so high, and are all covered with heavy timber;
the gum tree and oak are the largest;
locusts are in great abundance. There are
many handsome rivulets. The Shenandoah
rises in Beauty; and there are many delightful
seats near the river: it is one hundred miles
in length

All foreign ambassadors, when they arrive
in the country and proceed with despatches,
must be displeased, as the road is so very bad
from Baltimore; and their expectations must 5(1)r 49
be disappointed, for the city is not as large as Europeans
expect to find it; and when congress
does not sit, it is not a lively place.

Miss Josephine, not seeing any thing remarkable
to describe in her intended history, requested
her father to hasten his departure. They took
the road to Baltimore, staid at the City Hotel,
where they were much gazed at by the travellers,
and then proceeded to Philadelphia, in the stage.
The company consisted of Madame Dampier
and her little grand-daughter, and two Spanish
gentlemen; neither could speak one word of
English—only looked unutterable things. Miss
was much disappointed, not having
the pleasure of their conversation, she being of
so inquisitive a disposition, and eager for information,
in order to be interesting in her narrative.
The other passengers in the stage were two
yankee speculators, who had been carrying
pocketbooks to Baltimore, where there was a
good market for them, the Baltimore people
being a busy, industrious, contriving people.

Our travellers arrived at Philadelphia, and vol. ii. 5 5(1)v 50
put up at one of the best inns in the city.
It is not so lively as New-York, there are so many
Quakers, whose yea is yes and nay is nay—
no equivocating, all plain truth and civil
courtesy, no rapturous expressions at meeting
a friend, no unavailing grief at departure
—all consistency and good order. There
need not be any fear of trouble or riots; peace
and good order prevail in their councils; profit
and pleasure are their daily pursuits. The travellers
viewed all the beauties of their city, their
Academy of Arts, and their fine paintings, which
exceed any in the United States. This city is
so well lighted at night, it appears as day. Their
market is their pride and boast; and if you want
to offend them, tell their butter or fish
is not so good as in New-York, and the immediately
talk of their long streets, their flourishing
manufactories, the beautiful reservoir of water
at the head of Market-street, and the well ordered
police of the second city in the Union.
Then their heads are puffed up and their bodies erect;
then they boast of their city.

After we alighted from the stage, we were 5(2)r 51
very sociable with some of the passengers, and
I invited them to call at forty-one, Broadway,
near Castle Garden, where Miss Claibourne intended
to reside, at her cousing Caroline Sophia
, as has been before observed. After
every assurance from the passengers whom they
became acquainted with on their journey from
the capital of the United States, that they would
pay them a friendly visit, they parted, and the
Governor and his daughter took a seat in the
mail stage, which was much crowded. The Honourable Jedediah Gilman, from New-Hampshire,
was one of the passengers; he seemed in
great good humour, for he believed the next
president would be chosen from one of the eastern
states—he thought Massachusetts.

“I am not of your opinion,” said a dark-
visaged man; “I think the southern states will
always endeavour to keep the power, there is
such a vast tract of country uninhabited near
them, belonging to congress; it is doubly their
interest to get it settled as fast as possible—whether
by good or designing men, time will develope: 5(2)v 52
then the brilliant star of our Union will be
more brilliant, and appear with double lustre.”

The passengers all looked with astonishment
at this dark prognosticator, and every one immediately
gave his opinion, as this is a free
country, unasked; and certain it is, they contradicted
each other every moment. At length
the driver turned round, seemed in a great passion,
and said, “Men and brethren, you speak
so loud, and make such a clatter, my horses, being
true-blooded, the Duke of York’s breed, will
certainly run away and leave us in Swarthout’s
—and O, la, for me! what will become
of the women folks!”

“Very true, coachman,” they all cried; “the
stage is not the place for gentlemen to argue on
politics, any more than the meeting house; it
is only intended for a public benefit, to convey
passengers; and that time may glide pleasantly,
why not introduce some lively topic? such as—”

Mynheer Vanderdonderbarrak has run away
from Araanche Clatterclap, his wife, to the 5(3)r 53
astonishment of all the loving husbands in Gowawnes,
Long-Island, Kings’s county. The country
around was so exasperated at such an unexpected,
unprecedented event, that they ordered
the church bells to chime every morning at an
early hour, to give notice to the hight-spirited
ladies, descendents from the great Courters Van
and Van Hoogebooms, not to occasion
such another disaster in the present generation.
In order to give it publicity, there was a general
meeting called of all the rich, long-headed, self-
opinionated gentry, and it was agreed among them
that they would put up large handbills on all the
aspin trees as a warning, as they shake when
there is no wind. Pamphlets were printed in
the confiscated, flourishing village of Brooklyn,
setting forth the probable cause of the flight of
this renowned farmer. His fame as an agriculturalist
had overtopped that of all his neighbours;
and the approaching meeting of the Horticultural
had so fired his mind with eagerness to
present the first and best fruits of the earth, that
previous to his departure he had not suffered his
family, even his dear Oraanche, to sleep for
many nights, apprehensive he might not be 5* 5(3)v 54
awaked early on the great expected day. Some
imputed his flight to the grief he manifested when
informed the old tulip tree was fallen, that had
stood the shock of more than one hundred years.
In remembrance of that event some poetic effusions
were offered, which were in the elegaic
strain, and were as follows:

On the old Tulip Tree, at Brooklyn, that fell
the day the British evacuated New-York, in


Thy roots, alas! no more shall spread,

And shadowing branches shade around,

Nor gayest flowrets deck the head

Of thy past owners, under ground.


That braved the storm, when men did spurn

To rob their neighbours’ mould’ring urn—

Brooklyn, shudder at the thought;

Was your soil, then, fairly bought?


Age, with all its feeble ills,

Could not stop rapacious wills.

Man, determined to be great,

Risqued whatever would await.

5(4)r 55


America must never boast,

Till justice is her ruling toast;

Her sons that fought she now does pension,

Forgetting those I’ll never mention;


Whose property all then could see,

Was that where grew the Tulip Tree;—

A man, whose ancestors could boast

They sought religion on this coast.


Freedom’s sons, now weep for me;

I fell the day you were made free:

Sweet odours rose in freedom’s calm,

Which to the senses was a balm.


Your grandsires, men of probity,

Oft they conversed under this tree;

And happy, happy, sure, are they

Who did not live to see this day.

Chapter III.

Continuation of Oraanche Clattertrap’s history, and the
confusion that took place in the family after Mynheer
had hastily left her.

The company now arrived at Newark, which
was only nine miles from New-York—there being 5(5)v 56
a beautiful turnpike road and handsome
bridge over a morass to Powles Hook, an ancient
settlement of the first Dutch inhabitants in this
country, the Von Vorst, which signifies the first
and greatest people. In those days, there was
a proper distinction between the hewers of wood
and the drawers of water. The people were
then governed by those that read their Bibles
every day, and who ordered some men not to take
the first seats in the temple—which is a plain demonstration
there was a difference to be observed
in those of the highest order by the Great Omnipotent,
though ofttimes the leaders of the people
caused them to err.

They at length arrived at the steam boat,
which conducts the traveller to the city. The
first step that is taken is on the soil that the
right owner is kept out of similar to the native
aborigines:—might overcomes right.

Miss Claibourne, who is to be the future historian
of the mild and peacable early inhabitants
of the city of New-York, having now arrived
from Zainesville, Ohio, it will be necessary to remind 5(5)r 57
you that she is the niece of the worthy Mr.
of Pequest, near the Delaware, in Sussex
county, New-Jersey
, and cousin of the amiable
Mrs. Pettit, wife of Lionel Pettit, son of a nobleman
in France, who on his first arrival, as I
have observed in the beginning of this book,
was compelled to teach dancing, and by that
means was so fortunate as to obtain the happiness
that now attends him. As to the character and
accomplishments of Miss Claibourne, hitherto
unknown, suffice it to say, that she is intelligent
and persevering, and doubtless will be as entertaining
as circumstances will permit.

Various characters inhabit America—more,
perhaps, than any other part of the world.
Though we have no Goldsmiths, Popes, Swifts,
Addisons, Macauleys, or Montagues, we trust
that the rising genius of our country will in time
produce competitors of Byron, and Cooper and
Irving, our country’s boast.
Though now in brilliants set,Still brighter gems await them.
The ruby, emerald, and diamond, that adorn the
great, are but the exterior; it is the soul that 5(5)V 58
breathes the noblest energies, and makes man,
one of the noblest of God’s works, to enchant
the world by sublime poetic effusions, the perusal
of which, to a thinking mind, renovates life,
and transports us to the highest possible pitch of
felicity that is to be obtained in these changing
scenes of our existence.

Miss Josephine now arrived at her relations,
the lower end of Broadway, opposite where the
equestrian statue of king George the third was
placed, in the Bowling-Green, previously to the
revolutionary war. It is now destroyed. The
horse was handsomely gilded, and was placed on
a pedestal. The rider presented a palm in his
hand; he appeared in full speed, though he
could not overtake the great William Pitt, whose
statue, of white marble, was iat Wall-street, between
the banks of New-York and the great
merchant tailors. In his extended arm he held
a large scroll with the stamp act impression
on it, emblematic of his good wishes towards
America. His Majesty George the Third, at that
time the ruler of this country, stood motionless, and
could not overtake the friend of this country, as 5(6)r 59
his horse was like Balaam’s ass—he would not
move. Pitt’s statue was at that time as much
admired and talked of, as the visit of our great
nation’s guest is at this present day; and Washington,
the great father of his country, were his
statue in the Park, could not be more adored.
Such are the changing scenes here.

To return to a description of Miss Josephine
she was a young lady of the most exquisite refinements,
and at the same time so humble, she
would associate with any persons of inferior rank,
if they were intelligent. In her person, she was
tall and slender, and her face was an index of
her mind, placid and serene. No interruption
from her kind parents had ever prohibited her
from making researches; and she was more happy
in the society (if I may so call it) of the dead,
than of the living; that is, in perusing the trials,
troubles, and all the vicissitudes that this life is
burdened with. In order to convince her friends
that she had not forgotten her promise, at parting,
(to inform them of her progress,) she thus

5(6)v 60 To Mrs. Priscilla Bridgefield. Dear Cousin—I have, at length, commenced
my narrative of a people that have always been
ridiculed for ignorance, selfishness, and sordid
manners; but who, on the contrary, from all the
intelligence I have obtained, far surpass any of
the human race. In the first place, they do not
overload their minds with the intrigues and
crim. con. speculations which the great Philips,
by his eloquence, has in a great measure arrested,
by convincing the world that man and wife
are one, and that there should be no more separate
receiving of money; and the advice that he
forcibly gives, is, ‘Let every good man stay at
home, when business will permit, and take care
of his inestimable treasure.’
These ancient people
do not intermeddle with any affairs that will
give their posterity trouble, and cause the heart
to feel oppressed. I am now abridging some
manuscripts that I hastily wrote; and I shall,
from time to time, convey by letters my sincere
attachments. Little Alphonse is now two years
old, and is a lively representative of my 6(1)r 61
uncle Dexter’s family. I am invited to pass a
few days at the ancient village of New-Utrecht.
It is nearly two miles from the first landing
place, called Gravesend. Two hundred years
since, the settlers took a course across the country
to Tappaun (that is the original name.) It
has become known to the world in general as
the place where Andre, the reputed spy, was
executed. He was buoyed by the expectancy
that the President would pardon him; however,
it was not in his power—and Miss Seward wrote
the following lines on the event:
‘Relentless Washington! the day will comeOf deep repentance for this dreadful doom.’
He is now removed, and buried with the great
in Westminster Abbey. Our first settlers crossed
over to Haverstraw, which is the only place that
retains its ancient name: the present race, descendants
from those people, admire names of the
great Roman warriors, as Pompey, Manlius,
Marcellus, as high sounds carry with them appearances
of riches and grandeur.
vol. ii. 6 6(1)v 62 Now, ye few, very few ancient Knickerbockers,
arouse from your supineness! Ye Courtes,
Van Ledues, Van Values, Middachs, Rapaljes,
and De Sillases, who have escaped the torrent of
invective that has been levelled against you,
arise, and declare to the world the plain sincerity
and truth, that the inheritance of your forefathers
shall not be contaminated, and nobly relate facts
to set aside falsehoods invented for popular purposes.
Tell the world, that we boast not of
Aristides, Pompey, Plutarch, or Demosthenes;
we can assure them we are the offspring of the
followers of the Lamb of God, who peaceably
left their country for the good of their souls: and
shall their posterity forget it? No—not while a
female being exists, who can and will maintain
their cause. Let it, then, O daughters of America,
be imprinted in your tender bosoms and the
recollection of your minds, that though, by the
policy of war, man takes from man his inheritance,
and not even allows him a mess of pottage
for the confiscation, he should not murmur, but
exclaim with Pope‘Whatever is, is right.’”

Miss Claibourne, having sent her letter to her 6(2)r63
relations at the Ohio, then employed her pen in
relating the many curious adventures the first
setters met with, their patience, and resignations.

While the family were at breakfast, they were
called upon by a plain looking farmer from Sussex,
by the name of Arnoldus Hackenberry,
who had brought some beeswax and honey to
market—had a keen appetite, the family being
all seated at a stylish breakfast of fresh rolls,
coffee, and mushrooms. They were a little confused,
thinking he would devour all on the
table; however, after some inquiries, and then a
great deal of ceremony, he was invited to partake,
as they had added a beefsteak. The old
farmer, after seating himself, began to hold his
hat before his eyes, and returned thanks by a
short prayer; and then presented a letter from
their parents at the Pequest.

“Pray, sir, what is the best news in your
said Mr. Pettit. “All I can say is,
we will have poor crops this year—the hessian
fly is in the wheat, and the weevil in the corn;
and the drought has hurt the potatoes—sad! sad 6(2)v 64
indeed! How will the farmers live?”
must all turn statesmen, and come to New-
“I am sure,” said Hackenberry, “I
should die drinking your water, it is so feverish.”
“Not at all, for many have died because
it is so cold.”
The old farmer then gave a
groan, which is customary with some old people
after eating, they being apprehensive their food
may not easily digest—and they all are alarmed
at indigestion, as much as they are at prodigality.
He then mentioned, that if he could do any
thing for them he was at their service, as he was
going to leave them that day, it being town
meeting next week, and he, being one of the
overseers of the poor, must be at home if God
spared him his life. He then took a walk up
Broadway, bowed to every person he met, heard
music near the Park—and was induced to see
the lion and lioness by giving a shilling; and he
was so pleased, and his astonishment was so
great, that he declared when he returned no
sight in the city had so delighted him.

The woman folks, as he called them, he
thought were handsomer than in the country:— 6(3)r 65
“They are so red and white, and walk so neat
and pretty all day, I suppose for their health;
and I think they are all rich and happy.”
at all,”
said Mr. Pettit; “on the contrary, those
that you meet walking are many of them most
miserable, and, generally speaking, have such
wretched houses, that they saunter to make time
pass agreeable—the females in particular. But
matrimony is their grand object, and when they
have secured the affection of some rich youth,
they are fixed for ever.”
“Is it possible that
woman is so designing? In the country, if a
man has a good farm, and two or more daughters,
on Sunday evening his house will be surrounded
by young men to divide it, though it
does not take place in years, yet hope is pleasing,
even hope delayed—not in love, in wealth I
mean. I now bid you farewell, my city friends,
and I will relate to your parents, in Sussex, that
you look content, and your son Alphonse, who,
it appears, is learning to read, will in time astonish
his relations, he being so young.”

Farmer Hackenberry having left the city, I
shall just relate the description he gave Mr. and 6* 6(3)v 66
Mrs. Dexter on his return. “The road,” he
said, “is very fine, and a variety in it; for after
you pass Newark to Morristown, you cross
Schooley’s Mountain, famous at present for its
medicinal springs; and then you pass ’Squire’s
, a mountain in form similar to a sugar-loaf.
It is said the name originated from the following

A few gentlemen, (Squires,) were on the top
of this mountain, took some refreshment, and having
drank freely, could not find their way down,
and were compelled to stay all night, or until
they were sober; and thus the name originated.
From thence to Mansfield wood houses are found,
a fine country, and continues so until you reach
the house of Mr. Dexter, who, on the arrival of
his friendly neighbour, was transported; joy was
depicted in ever countenance, and all with one
voice exclaimed,—welcome once more to your
happy home! Ah! happy indeed! I would not
exchange it for the marble houses in New-York,
where I saw long faces with short beards—heard
wise sayings, and old proverbs, from the mouths
of great men for the public good—no selfish views 6(4)r 67
were there brought forward; all appeared unanimous
for the good of the city. Petitions were
read, not worth attending to; plans formed for
widening crooked streets, and emptying misers’
pockets—All seem revived when any new plan
was in operation, which affects either the living, or
those that must expect according to the course
of things to die; that is the question, then Where, ah, where, shall their bones be laid,That never signalized themselves in battle,In Pottersfield? forbit it Heaven!—
Perhaps with those who have undermined the

“Upon my word, neighbour, you need not
repent your journey to New-York,”
said Mr.
; “sure I am, that were I to stay seven
years, I never should have thought of seeing
the lions or the inmates of the great marble
house; but curiosity, I have oft been told,
lies deeper in a woman’s than a man’s bosom.
I must contradict the assertion; for you have
developed things that I should never have thought 6(4)v 68
The old man begged to be excused, as he
wished to return to the bosom of his family.

I shall now acquaint my readers of the proficiency
Miss Claibourne made in her narrative of
the ancient Dutch. In her last letter she describes
the great confusion that took place on
Long Island, in looking for Mynheer Vanderdonderbarrack,
who had most unfeelingly, and
unprecedentedly, ran away from his kind, tender,
well-beloved wife Oraanche Clattertrap,
who in silent sobs, it was thought, would melt
away like honey in the comb.

Public meetings were called in all the surrounding
villages, to devise plans to prevent the
like mishap again; and it was sincerely recommended
by Nicacius de Silla, late fiscal of the
Netherlands, to all well-wishers of the tender
sex, that they would in future pay a proper deference
towards their husbands, as men in general;
and particularly, the Knickerbockers insist
that they are the head of the tree. Though many
disputes do arise respecting it, which the reverend
divines are obliged to settle to the decrease 6(5)r 69
of their best fat geese, which are served
up to regale them as a remuneration for their
good advice and peace offerings, the worthy females
were all seized, from Wallabacht to Gowawnes,
with a shivering coldness, when Oraanche’s
fate was made known. They much feared,
as times were so precarious, how soon it might
be their own case, it having been an ancient and
established custom among the old inhabitants of
Long Island, to do as your neighbours do, and
they make it an invariable practice still.

Mr. Pettit called on Miss Claibourne, to know
when she was again going to the museum, as he
was promised some interesting manuscripts, for
her immediate attention; she politely thanked
him for his assiduity, and mentioned that it appeared
to her in her researches, that the first inhabitants
of New-York and Long Island were
extremely attached to some particular minister
of the gospel, as on all occasions he was consulted,
and his advice strictly adhered to, he being
supposed to have their welfare at heart.—
They were much bigoted to their own denomination
at their friendly meetings; but decency, 6(5)v 70
decorum, and a degree of civility prevailed, that
is not often to be found in the present day.—
What mostly affected these good people, was
seeing a tax-gatherer, for they were not often
solicited for money, and generally the women attended
to this call, as in those days they were always
to be found at home, seldom on the high
road, only when going to church, visiting the
sick, or attending the funeral of a friend or a
neighbour; only these occasions called them out.

Happy, happy days of comfort and delight!
Oh, what blissful scenes then enlivened the habitations
of our ever to be remembered ancestors!
Oh, were they now to arise and behold
their progeny aspiring after vain pursuits, while
the charm of liberty is inflaming the minds of
their children—to arise, and if possible snuff the
moon! Such are the present times, which I
shall not at present describe.

I shall begin with the account of Guisboet
, a collector in New-York. He entered
the house of Adolphus Thregier, near Coenties
, with his book under his arm, “Pray, yefrow, 6(6)r 71
how rich are you?”
“Ask my husband
that question,”
replied she. “I always
said he, “that the Dutch ladies take
care of the cash, and that they are never known
to speak an untruth, so I was directed to inquire
of them.”
Her name was Neiltie, she was very
still, but very angry at such inquisitiveness; she
thought that to tell a person you were rich, is a
sure sign of a fool; so she told Guisboet he
might find out. A great dispute arose, and
the Dutch lady said very civilly she “wished she
might be allowed to enjoy her own fireside
without interruption.”
A very decent hint, as
she expected her brother-in-law from the Sagarchies
with his wife and daughter, and she was
preparing to receive them, and no assessor, oppressor,
or any disturber of her peace, was welcome
in her house. “Excuse me, madam, the
business that brought me here is for the public
good, to pull down houses and straighten streets,
to erect public edifices for the general good.”

Miss Claibourne returned from the museum,
and was feasting her mind with the information
she had acquired, when suddenly a rap at the 6(6)v 72
door, which being attended to by one of the servants:
a gentleman inquired for Miss Josephine.
“She is not at home.” He replied, “I shall
return in the evening.”
He left his name—and
called again. She was transported when she
saw him. I need not mention the inquiries that
were made; suffice it to say, that Miss Josephine
amused her father all the evening with humorous
stories that she had collected. One was of Yacup
, who lived on a rock about four miles
from New-York. It was customary in times
past for all the children, as they rode out of town,
to point their finger and cry out to him. This
singular character, it appears, left to his great-
grand-children all the disputed property from
the battery to the Bridewell, and it was so many
years before they were to get possession that they
entirely forgot it, not being blessed with good
memories; and so it was now occupied by those
who, as the saying is, keep it. So much for the
great and wise plans of the ancient inhabitants
of the New Netherlands. Rather than their
children should be made extravagant by leaving
their property to them, they all wisely put their
heads together and divided their estates among 7(1)r 73
the third generation. All the city is now terrified
lest they should be ousted; many have not
slept soundly for years; and all the old manuscripts
and records that have been raked up now
are searched for, to afford the sons of science an
opportunity to display their talents whenever
they can take hold of any thing lawfully.

She then indulged herself in her father’s arms,
and said—“O thou best and kindest of parents,
how shall I in language paint my ardent feelings,
and in what exquisite tone shall I raise my voice
to hail thee, here in the bosom of that family
that ages to come will venerate for protecting
her who is searching and endeavouring to make
known the inhabitants of this city—for very
few inherit from their ancestors the pure unmixed

The time was approaching that her father
must leave her—which he did, and left this impression
on her mind:—Better be the admiration
of a few discerning characters, whose opinion
has weight, than shine like the comet’s blaze.
Her father at parting dropped a silent tear. She vol. ii. 7 7(1)v 74
then hastened to view some manuscripts that she
had slightly glanced over. Among the number
was Volkirk Andriassa, a country schoolmaster
from Long-Island, taken in the act of yawning
while mending a pen, and who had nearly fallen
from his high seat, where he always felt dignified
and assumed unbounded authority. He was
consulted, and his advice taken in all critical
cases, such as a breach of a promise of marriage.
He always interfered and prevailed upon the
young main to renew his addresses, as woman,
he said, was the weaker vessel, and if she had
erred, he must forget and forgive. “God
says he, “the good man, whose name
I bear, can vouch for my assertion: woman will
be woman still. Their manners, in this enlightened
age, are much changed; and their power
and influence, as report expresses, cannot be
doubted. Their damask lips and auburn hairInflame the soul, ’tis true;And then a smile from her that’s fair—It ever will subdue.”

The keeper of the museum presented Miss
an original letter found in a miser’s 7(2)r 75
chest at Wallabout, opposite Corlear’s Hook,
New-York. It was from Nultjee Bogart, to
her lover, Hendrick Lubbertson.

“My dear Friend, I told you that I did not certainly know my
mind, when I sat behind you on your old sorrel,
whether I would marry you. I wanted to think
a little and consult my father. He gave the
following answer to my sister and me: ‘Girls,
don’t be in a hurry—there comes as good ships
in as there goes out. These foreigners look for
wealth; and as I have not done with what I have,
there is nothing to spare at present.’
Now, my
friend, if all you say is true, and you love me,
do you think you could support me without
father’s help?—If not, depart in peace.
Your kind friend, Nultjee Bogart. N. B. I forgot to mention that after marriage
I do not wish to fatigue myself.”

This letter breathes the truth; and I presume
the lover was cool enough at the receipt of it. 7(2)v 76
It was the first letter the lady ever penned; the
style showed she was no great epistolary writer.
Whatever she might have been in prose, I should,
of all things, wish to see some of her poetical
effusions; if possible, I’ll try to obtain some.

I think, Miss, I can find something more
entertaining:—that is, the s――k races in Amsterdam.
A number of villagers collect on Easter
holidays, and a s――k is hung up very high
on something purposely made, and the fastest
runner gains the prize. She is not compelled to
wear the usual garment. She is delighted, and
eagerly seizes it as a gift from Heaven. All the
ruddy-cheeked, stoop-shouldered, large-feet damsels
were engaged; the long-sided, pale-faced,
delicate females did not attempt for the prize, but
contented themselves to be witnesses of the enlivening
scene. It was a great recreation to the
mind; and these humble beings felt as much
gratification as Queen Caroline would have done
had she been crowned Queen of England.

The people of Holland have few paupers; 7(3)r 77
they always employ the poor.—Not so in America;
they punish them by suffering them to
remain idle. In Holland, on the river Veght,
the rtackskuits are worked by the poor; and they
smoke sorrow away—the women neat and clean
—content with their situation, in high or low

Our heroine began now to feel a little unhappy,
as she had been near a twelvemonth from
home, endeavouring to amuse herself by continuing
writing. She sent to her friends a few lines
in the following ludicrous strain:—

“Be not surprised, my dear cousin Bridgefield,
that I thus hastily address you. I have nearly
finished my history; and ere I begin to relate to
you their eccentric manners, let me first ask one
question:—It is now seven months since I left
Zainesville, and in that space of time has Fortune,
who is sometimes lavish of his favours,
given you no hope of additional comforts to your
family! Do not keep the secret from me; and
I shall then congratulate him on his lively expectancies.
Now, my amiable friend, I should 7* 7(3)v 78
be pleased to hear from Mrs. Prelude, Miss
,—and likewise Mr. Andre, whether,
as we conjectured, he is paying attention to Miss
Communicate to me all the pleasing intelligence
in your power, as I discover all to Mrs.
I shall now endeavour to amuse you by relating
a story of Dominie Yan Arondeous and Wilhellimpe
his wife, whom I became acquainted with
at Shawangunk—a descendant of the Van Dams,
famous for great deeds, such as fishing, fowling,
fighting, and many other pursuits not necessary
to mention. He was a minister of the gospel,
and his young spouse very devout while he held
his broad brimmed hat before his eyes and fervently
prayed for all the good things that would
administer comfort to his feeble frame, and prepare
his mind to acknowledge with gratitude the
goodness of God in blessing him with one of the
fairest of the creation, and to prepare her mind
to meet the frowns of this world with patience
and resignation, and to become a pattern to the
rising generation (not in dress) in goodness and
amiability of manners in these happy days of 7(4)r 79
ignorance, as they are styled by our present wise,
deceitful generation. In times past, sincerity
was pictured on the countenance, and you could
safely unbosom yourself to a friend; he would
not deceive you; truth was in his expressions,
and friendship was in his bosom. If the afflicting
dispensations of Providence crossed you, you
were sure to find a ready adviser.
How changed is the scene! In these days
of pretended greatness, folly and pride stalk the
streets, and look with envy on those who do
well. In those ancient days families were united
in silken bands, which, for strength, could not
be broken; and the chains of wedlock could
never be forgotten; time could not erase it.
Look at the present thoughtless generation!—
Every man now seeks wealth under the Hymeneal
banners; his future prospects of existence
depend on the acquisition he obtains in the partner
that he chooses. Wealth is the only spring
that now moves the fashionable world.
7(4)v 80 I must now, my amiable friend, conclude,
wishing you all the happiness you deserve.
J. C.”

Mrs. Priscilla Bridgefield, after receiving the
above letter, began to make preparations in her
family to leave them to spend a few days at her
former home, in presence of those whom, in all
the changing scenes of her life, she would never forget.
Her husband, whom she consulted, and
whom she had bound herself for life to obey,
perfectly agreed to her request to make a visit
to a valuable friend, though he felt exreme repugnance
at parting with her, as this was the
first time they should be separated. However,
great preparations were made for her departure,
though only distant ten miles—the harness varnished
and horses cropped—and old family servants
active in preparing every thing necessary.
“Now, my dear,” said the Judge, “I have one
request; that is, to be careful of yourself; for
you are dearer to me than life. And do forbear
to go to the mighty meetings of the methodists.
You know Mrs. Dexter is a great follower of that
sect—not that I am averse to those good people— 7(5)r 81
only fearful some accident may befal you, and
leave me again forlorn and miserable. My dear
Priscilla, I have so often tasted the cup of affliction
that the dregs I cannot, I am certain, swallow.
However, I shall leave you to your own discretion;
and during your absence I will regulate
the servants in the best manner possible. I am
well convinced, since you received the letter
from New-York, your anxiety to present it to
your friend is your chief inducement, at present,
to go, at the same time to share with them the
pleasure it will afford. And whenever you wish
to return to that bosom that is ready to receive
you, and by tenderness and good wishes to convince
you of its sincerity and attachment—then,
oh then, the meeting will far surpass the feelinsggs
that absence occasioned. The joys of meeting
pay for the pangs of absence, else who could
bear it? My weakness I fear I cannot hide from
you; and should a tear fall when you part from
me, let the recollection to your mind be, that
you are my all on earth; father, mother, sister,
all are lost in the thought of you. I pray you
cherish that affecrtion which is rare.”

7(5)v 82

On the day appointed to go, all the family
were active to make very thing ready, and Mrs.
took leave most kindly of them all. The
road was pleasant and tolerably good, though
somewhat hilly near the river. As soon as they
appeared in front of the lawn, the family rushed
out to meet Mrs. B. and in transports of joy,
Mrs. Claibourne welcomed her to that home
which was always at her service; she thanked
them most politely, and then in her usual strain,
began to inquire about goslins, pigs, geese, &c.
&c. which pleases the best informed minds in
the country. “Ah,” replied Mrs. C. “since
you and my dear daughter left us, our inclinations
are changed from worldly things, our
minds are now bent on more exalted subjects;
we look for happiness not in this life of trouble,
our souls are bent for higher and more lasting
enjoyments, where grief and sorrow are not
known, and bright rays of happiness await those
who live to God; as to the trifling concerns of
this world merely for food and raiment, they are
beneath my consideration; I aspire to sing hallalujas
to the lamb that was slain.
“Your remarks,
my amiable friend, are true and correct; 7(6)r 83
but while in this vale of life we are commanded
to assist the poor, to bind up the broken hearted,
to cheer the forlorn traveller, and to do to other
as we wish to be done unto us. ’Tis true, that it
is not required of us to keep trouble on ourselves;
all that is necessary is to pray for the pure
in heart, to feed the hungry, clothe the naked
if in our power, not so as to injure ourselves: we
must not, however, encourage idleness and sloth.
My dear friend, I have now the felicity to acquaint
you that I have received from your daughter
a long letter with a pleasing narrative of the
ancient manners and customs of the first settlers,
taken out of the museum, where they had been
gathered from the old chests of many a worthy
character, who did not think it necessary in his
day to communicate them, and freely left to posterity,
all the satisfaction they might receive by
perusing them; the only unpleasant circumstance
is the difficulty to give the long names
their true musical sound, as many are six syllables,
such as Van-der-don-der-bar-rack, whose
character shall appear upwards of an hundred
years before; the descendants have curtailed the
names by leaving out some of the vowels and 7(6)v 84
adding consonants, so that many do not know
their families, the names are so changed; then
their positiveness is so evident in the the female,
that many of them will not change their names.
Your daughter gave an account in her letter, of
Everardas Broner, from Communipaw, which I
shall relate, begging your patience, as every particular
ought to be mentioned.”

Chapter IV.

Narrative of Everardus Van Brinckerhoff—His hasty movement
to gain a Companion—Is recommended to a fair
damsel residing at Raritan, who wore a gold chain round
her neck—the method he took to gain her.

An occurrence took place at Communipaw last
autumn. The season was inviting, and Pomona’s
bounty was freely lavished on the farmers in
general. Everardus Van Brinckerhoff, a young
man of comely visage, and mild, unassuming
manners, feeling singularly unhappy at living alone,
awoke one morning, and determined to 8(1)r 85
seek an helpmate. He consulted with a friend,
who informed him that at Rariton, New Jersey,
there resided a handsome young lady, of the
name of Middleswart, who always, as a sure
mark of distinction, wore a bright gold chain
around her snowy neck, and was heiress of a
large, fertile farm. Fame spoke of her as a very
desirable young lady, who would be a valuable
acquisition to the lonely village of Communipaw;
she was in the eighteenth year of her age, with
a lovely countenance, and pleasant in conversation;
the reigning toast in the country. Everardus
having been advised by his friend, the deacon
of the church, that if he was in time he
might perhaps gain her. The deacon felt interest
in the welfare of this young lady, as she
was cousin to his wife, and he should devise
means speedily for him to obtain her, which perhaps
might require some ingenuity. In the first
place, said he, deacon, you must, if possible, see
her on Easter Sunday; all the young ladies in
the country that, day, appear at church in their
best dress.
vol. ii. 8 8(1)v 86 The young farmer, with his mind so impressed
with the idea of his approaching happiness, bent
his way to the residence of the young lady.—
During his absence from home, his neighbours
had various conjectures concerning him; some
thought, as he was a busy man, he had gone to
Albany to apply for a bank; others thought he
had gone to purchase wild land, in the hope that
the canal would pass through them; however, he
passed on, being bent on matrimony. He stopped
at the Cross Keys in New Brunswick, a
house kept by a very merry fellow, where he regaled
himself with a very hearty supper, and two
glasses of flip; he then called for a clean bed: ‘Yes, yes,’ said Mannus, the landlord, ‘you
shall have a good bed of live feathers, and my
wife has been spinning a piece of blanketing,
just as long as Raway Bridge; I know it to be
true, for when bringing it from the weaver’s, to
satisfy myself how long it was, I measured it,
and you may have it all over you if you please;’

so they agreed, and he was conducted to the
Now, my dear Mrs. Claibourne, I have read 8(2)r 87
a great part of Miss Josephine’s history, and I
shall continue to relate it. Early on Sunday
morning, Everardus Vanderbrinckerhoff called for
a basin of water and a clean napkin, which were
handed him by the neat landlady herself; on one
corner of the napkin the names of the husband
and wife were flourished, to the great satisfaction
of the owners, that such a valuable article
should be preserved in a family. Everardus
took out his pocket book, paid his bill, and hastened
away, just asking the nearest way to Hank
‘I suppose,’ says the landlord,
‘you are courting there; for to tell you the
truth, and God knows I would not lie for no
man, she is the nicest and cleanliest girl in our
parts; for knitting and spinning she is the first
rate; that is Cornelia there, an old maid in the
family who has been forgotten some time.’
did not ask you, my friend, the character of the
Middleswart family, I only wished you to point
out the way; what my intentions are no one
knows or cares.’
‘Then my friend,’ said the
landlord, ‘you must take to the right, and then
to the left, and back again one hundred
rods; then make a full stop, and call out very 8(2)v 88
loud, for the family are very deaf who live on
the corner of the road—they will direct you.
As there are two roads meet opposite their farm,
you must surely take but one, and that brings
you to Hank Middleswart’s.’
‘Thank you, sir,
I wish you a good morning;’
and then the gay
youth rode off with flying colours, but forgot in
the hurry of his mind, and took the wrong road;
his anger rose for fear he should not be in time
to secure the young lady’s company before a rival
should be there, she being a great belle; however,
he was in time, and arrived at the gate at
4 o’clock, his horse pranced; and he dismounted
with great activity. He knocked at the door, and
the old gentleman, in his red cap, came himself,
and shaking him by the hand, said,
‘How do you do, sir?—how do you do?’ ‘Why, I cant say I am quite so well as I have
been; I am much troubled of late with wind
in my bowels.’
‘Do take a chair. How is the road, youngster?’
8(3)r 89 ‘Why, only middling, sir; I always think it
safest to ride in the middle of the road, the horse
is not so apt to stumble; and if he should, you
would not be quite so topsy-turvyfied in fallen.’
‘Pray, what news, young man, is there concerning
the lariff, or tariff, I heard Terence McDowdal,
our great schoolmaster, read about? I am
told the great folks in New-York are quite
alarmed, especially the merchants; I think,
moreover, that congress are so wise they know
what is best, or they would not stay so long from
their loving wives and noisy children. I have
often wished from my heart that I had a public
situation, that I might have an opportuning not to
hear the noise of my wife.’
Just as the old gentleman finished his soliloquy
Miss Cornelia Middleswart entered the room,
and held herself very straight, for she had just
gazed out of the window before she came in, and
was much pleased with the fine horse which, as
I before observed, was the first recommendation
to the early inhabitants of the New-Netherlands,
and the young men conducted themselves in a 8* 8(3)v 90
great measure by this display of greatness.—
I before observed, she held her head high, and
made a very low courtesy, as low as possible—
that was another mark of attention; the higher
the head and the lower the body, the more
pleased was the lady. And if perchance she
should be too volatile, and could not refrain from
showing the greatest civilities to her admirer,
the mother would speak in a low voice, in broken
English, and say, ‘Swaight,’ that is, silence;
which startled the young lady, and she would
be quite demure.
When Miss Cornelia was seated, the old gentleman
said, ‘Youngster, this is my second
daughter, and every one says she is the very
spawn of me—what is your opinion?’
my word, sir,’
says the young man, ‘I have
not taken sufficient notice of her yet.’
As I
have before observed, he was a character rather
singular—so cautious, for fear of giving offence;
so prudent, for fear to alarm you and perfectly
satisfied to keep his own secrets; so much so,
that I am apprehensive that, should he damaged2 letters captivated
with Miss Cornelia, it would be an damaged2 letterse 8(4)r 91
before he revealed it; and then she must first,
by her plausibility, extract it as you would teeth,
or she would never wrest it from him.
The company being pleased with each
other, they were all called to the tea table, which,
for good things and friendly offers of them,
could not be surpassed. The comfit, as it is
called, which the wholesome, clean lady offered,
was delicious; the apple pie and other dainties
were excellent. The only disagreeable thing
was too much solicitation to eat, and more to
make you drink six or eight cups of tea. The
signal when you have done is to cross the cup
with your spoon; then, to show they are pleased
with your company, you must always drink one
more, or give offence.
After tea the old gentleman left the room to
Miss Cornelia and her lover; it was a pleasant
circumstance that he had no interruption by
other company. When they were alone he
hemmed and stammered, and said he liked Rariton
very much.
8(4)v ‘I am pleased, sir, with your opinion, for
many persons ridicule us for our ancient manners,
dress, and customs.’
‘Were you, Miss, ever at Communipaw?’ ‘No, sir. Oysters, I hear, are the chief nourishment
of the civil inhabitants of that place;
and the bells of the church ring to the tune of
Corra-malak and Supaun, (Buttermilk and Supaun,)
and speedily collect all the pious inhabitants;
and they, I am told, all raise their voices
to the highest pitch, old and young, bond and
‘I think it singular, Miss, that a young lady
of your acquirements is not yet married; and if
I am not disagreeable, will be happy to have
your company this evening.’
She bowed assent, and spoke not for five
minutes. Now being quite alone, and having
the pleasure of her company, Everardus began
his courtship. He thought her a lovely girl;
her cheek was like a peach, and the jet hair 8(5)r 93
with which her brow was adorned, was beautiful.
Her teeth appeared neglected—the smallness of
her mouth concealed them. He thus began:
‘Could you, my dear girl, be happy, do you
think, to live at Communipaw?’
‘I never, sir, have thought on that subject.’ ‘I hope you will, then, consider seriously of
it before I see you again.’
‘I cannot promise what a day may bring
forth; for we are told not to take thought of tomorrow:
sufficient unto the day is the evil
‘I am now going to leave you; and do not,
like many of your sex, now you think you have
the power, triumph over me; for had I all the
Lackawaxen coal mines in Pennsylvania, they
should be yours, and all the Eagle notes of
New-Haven, with my consent, should pass current
for your happiness, and the prosperity of the
country at large, who now many, I am sorry to 8(5)v 94
say, are weeping and gnashing their teeth in
doubt and uncertainty. Riches take unto themselves
wings and fly away, though man places
them in his wisdom, in gas lights, deferred stock,
or canal shares; all, all, alas! vanish, to the
astonishment of the rising generation, who now
by flattery and planning, have so secured wealth
to ages unborn, that riches will never again
vanish; and he that now rides in splendour may
rest secure on his cotton or downy pillows, that
he will never again fall. Rejoice, now, ye sons
and daughters of America—peace is in your country,
and prosperity in your dwellings—your fair
daughters will rise up like spreading branches—
whose fruit shall be like the pomegranate,
delicious to the taste; and the odiferous gales
that will be wafted to distant climes will induce
many to aspire to such felicity. Hope will arise
in distant bosoms to share the fragrance that perfumes
the air.—Give me leave, Miss, to sing a
favourite air to you before I leave you.
I. Oh Nancy! see the parting hour That severs me from thee! 8(6)r 95 Should clouds o’ercast and seem to lower, I still must happy be. II. In Grecian courts I must appear By an appointment made; Your image in my bosom there Will never fade, never fade. III. From dawn of morn to evening’s close I’ll constant still remain; In absence will my bosom glow:— Ecstatic joy’s ne’er pain.’ He then hastily left her, and returned with
agreeable reflection to his farm, as she had not
offended him; and he returned with a dawn of
hope in his mind, which made him apply himself
to his usual industry with cheerfulness; and the
secret being in his own breast, if he should not
succeed in gaining her it would not be so mortifying
Now, my dear Mrs. Claibourne, I must
leave you—the Judge will send for me; and
then I shall write to your daughter to be very
communicative in her next; for her time is 8(6)v 96
drawing nigh when I shall have the pleasure of
seeing her. I have no doubt of the firmness of
her mind, that she will finish her history as
speedily as possible, and by every opportunity. I
will let you know I had a letter here which she
last wrote; that at the museum, a very gay,
good-humoured French gentleman, who, hearing
her name was Josephine, was much pleased
with her—requested to know her residence.
She would not tell him at that time, as she was
so engaged with the most interesting part of her
narrative, and did not wish to be interrupted;
and besides, she was apprehensive he would find
her, but should studiously avoid him in her present
moments, being so engaged.”

The day at length arrived when Mrs. Bridgefield
was to return to the bosom of her family.
She took an early breakfast, and begged her
friends to be assured of her lasting esteem, and
should be much pleased if either of them would
return with her, which they both excused—in a
short time would do themselves that pleasure, as
soon as they heard from New-York. So she
took leave, and enjoyed a pleasant ride home 9(1)r 97
and was received by her husband with every
possible demonstration of joy. Then she began
relating the changing scenes that occurred in her
absence. “Nothing, my dear, has happend,
except the addition of a calf; I now congratulate
you and myself as part owner.”
So they
retired to peace and rest.

While Mrs. Bridgefield visited her friends.—
They received a letter from Pequest, with
the information of their intention to visit
their daughter—and should be gratified to meet
them there; and the short time that Josephine
had to stay would be very agreeable.
“What do you think of the proposal, my Camilla?”
(Whenever the Governor wished his wife
to think seriously of any thing, he addressed her
by her Christian name.) “I will think of it, and
ere to-morrow’s dawn, I will make up my
So they changed the subject.

The Governor crossed over to his old friend
Prelude’s, who was always jocund and gay when
his friends called to see him. He related how
Conrad Kriperstein had written to him, acquaintingvol. ii. 9 9(1)v 98
him with the particulars of his journey to
Philadelphia, and from thence to his farm in
Deits, near Lancaster. “To speak in plain
words, I cannot read half his letter. I have often
heard you say there was no writing you could
not understand—do me the favour to peruse it.”

“I will; and if any errors in diction appear, I
will pass them over in a friendly, courteous manner;
and let not mirth (which, we all know, enlivens)
make us turn to ridicule the great German
So he read as follows:

“‘For Judge Prelude over the Ohio—these with
care and speed.
Worthy Sir, Eber since I come to mine own house, I hab
bin troubled wid all kinds of sickness and disturbance.
In the time I was wid you at the
Ohioes, I could jump, sing, and dance the rigadoons,
and tel sich storys which did make Miss
laf in her sleve. Now I am sorry to
speak my own mind and expose folks; I told
you I was afraid of my wife; howdsomeber I
did hurry home, and she was so engree wid me
because that I staid a little bit to long, she slambd 9(2)r 99
the street door bang before my face. Got zukkers,
wad de dival is the matter wid mine frowe.
Ober den I tot mabe the witches has got in hur;
I will go tirectly and git a littil bottle of ashafitatai,
and stop her mouth. So I sent to Doctor
, and he sent me, by and by, tirectly a small
box of pills, wid direcshuns how da must be
taken. I went straight to mine own wife, and had
one pill redy—tolp it was good for hur to open
hur mouth, witch she did, and almost bit my
finger off.
Yours in the Lord,
Conrad Kriperstein.’”

“Now, my friend, what do you think of such
a wife? How supremely blessed ought we to
be, who are so firmly united to women who are
patterns of excellence. Mine riseth while it is
yet night and giveth food to her household, and a
portion to her maidens. Your’s, I hear, seeketh
wool and flax, and worketh diligently with her
own hands. The fair daughters of Columbia
are as chaste as Lucretia, and many beautiful as 9(2)v 100
Juno; and when we leave them they mourn
like the turtle, and will not be comforted.”

“I cannot, my friend Prelude, stay longer
with you, as Mrs. Claibourne will make up her
mind to-day whether she will proceed to New-
to meet my sister and her husband, and their
only child, whose presence will make us feel a
new source of happiness, and at our return bless
the day we left her.”

“If such are your reasons for thus abruptly
leaving us, we must submit—and ever hope that,
as Time rolls his chariot, we may both of us
meet to hail each other, and communicate some
fresh cause of delight. Go, then, my friend, and
receive from the voice of your better half such
soothing consolation and pleasing expressions as
will make you the happiest of your sex. I bid
you adieu; and when next we meet, may it be
by the fireside of your well wisher, George William

Fourteen days had now elapsed, which was
the time appointed by E. Brinckerhoff to again 9(3)r 101
visit Miss Cornelia, who had not offended him
at his first visit, and was highly flattered by that

Chapter XV.

Continuation of Everardus Van Brinckerhoff’s history, with
his declarations to Miss Middleswart, of Raritan.

He would often walk up to the barn, cast a
look at a swallow’s next, reflect, and say, “one
swallow never makes a summer;”
then smile
and say to himself, “one smile from a beloved
damsel of amiable manners, is not enought to
bless and make me happy; her temper appears
so kind, I fear she frowns on no man. I do not
know what to do. Oh, woman, precious woman!”
and then hummed to himself,
“1Oh! where shall wretched man then roam,When beauty fires her darts?No peace on earth can e’er be foundTill soften’d is her heart.9(3)v1022’Tis smiles alone can anguish heal,And strew our paths with bliss,When mutual love they both reveal,Then seal it with a kiss.
whose manners are so varying, the idea distracts
me! However, this dear girl seems so
much to engage my mind she may be an exception
to the generality of them. I will summon
resolution and again see her, for I have the satisfaction
to know that the secret of my attachment
is in my own bosom, and should I meet
a frown at my next interview, I may derive consolation
that the world knows it not. Many
men visit the fair sex for fashion’s sake, to pass
an hour or two of pleasantry, without an idea of
conjugal felicity; and many military characters
toast the ladies to show their gallantry, and appear
as men of fashion, and delight to parade with them
at all public walks, but never feel the power of
love. Not so the sudden thrillings of a feeling
heart, at the sight of beauty and accomplishments;
then the manners of the most savage man
is changed to mildness, every offer of kindness
is tendered, and all means taken to assure her of 9(4)r 103
his sincerity. The female mind is then aroused,
and attentively listens to the syren song, and as
opportunity offers, either approves or rejects.”

Everardus, returning from the barn with his
mind enraptured, determined the next day to prepare
for his second sincere visit. Making every
arrangement the next day, he left Communipaw,
telling his negro, Callaman, that he would be
back in two days, if God spared his life, and not
to forget the work that was necessary to be done,
which he faithfully promised.

He had unfortunately chosen a cloudy morning
for his excursion; but thinking it an unfavourable
omen to return, he proceeded though it
rained in torrents until he arrived at the house
of his old landlord, who received him with satirizing
look, and boldly asked him, in the course
of conversation, if he was “going to purchase a
“I must find cash first,” was his reply.
“Time, time will reveal all,” said the jocose
landlord. He eat heartily, and every thing
was approved of; when the mind is happy all is
well. The day being fine, the young farmer entered 9(4)v 104
the lawn where his fair one dwelt; the
loud barking of Scrip brought the family around
the door; the old family servant, Jude, cried out,
“Miss Cornelia, make haste down, you cannot
guess who is here—Sit down young master, and
I will call Tom to put your horse in the meadow,
for there is fine after-grass.”
These old family
servants know who are welcome, and are always
very attentive to such company. Miss
prepared herself, and in a short time
came down. On her entering the room, a crimson
blush o’erspread her cheek which added a
charm to her appearance, and plainly discovered
she had some agreeable sensations; for had she
been indifferent to him, she never would have
been confused. “I hope you are very well, sir,”
she said when she approached him; that is the
usual salutation when people meet often; a short
observation on the state of the weather, was the
next subject, and the indisposition of the old gentleman
was the first topic of conversation, who
was confined to his room; he thought of his
first attack which was only wind, but it proved
to be a serious malady, and Doctor Dobbins
thought he was in some danger; the young people 9(5)r 105
had no interruption to their happiness, being
most of the time alone, and every convenient opportunity
was snatched to inform her of his real
intentions, to which she put no obstacle in the
way; only mentioning to him that there was
a gentleman residing at Squire’s Point, Sussex
, of an ancient family and most engaging
address, had solicited her hand, and made himself
very agreeable to the old gentleman, who
assured him that he never meant to direct his
daughter in such an important thing as matrimony,
for he had unfortunately married to please
his parents, and made himself miserable, for the
wife of his bosom, (who, alas! is no more) was
not calculated to make him happy; she was so
teasing, so uplifted and domineering, none but
himself could have endured her, and, notwithstanding
his hard fate, he resigned himself to it,
and submitted to all her vexatious taunts with
calmness, and patiently bore with her ill temper
in silence: for when she reviled, he reviled not
again, but acted with perfect self-denial, in order
that he might live in peace, until the day of her
death; and at her departure, she stretched out her
hands to him, and said, “I thank you for your 9(5)v 106
kind forbearance, unhappy woman that I am,
who have caused you so much trouble, for I
thought you never loved me, and therefore teazed
you to induce you to love me, as I had a tender
regard for you, and pitied you.”

“I hope my daughter will never be controlled
in her choice, and that she may be more blessed
than her mother was, is my ardent wish. She
died in peace with all the world, sincerely lamented.
This young gentleman from ’Squires’
, is pleasing in his manner, genteel in his
address, and every way qualified to make a woman
happy; whenever he introduces the subject
nearest his heart, he says, I immediately evade
the conversation, so he has no encouragement
from me, and consequently he will trouble me no

Things being now all in a fair train, the young
lover proposed a ride to Somerville, which was
agreed to, and on the way took the opportunity
of declaring that this was the happiest occurrence
of his life, and begged to know if his visits
would be agreeable in future. She very humourously 9(6)r 107
replied, that “it depended on his fus
ture conduct;”
he smiled and said “that should
invariably be the same. Will you not, my sweet
girl, allow me to hope that I am first in your esteem,
and if my future conduct accords with the
past, I may hope to be happy.”
“Leave these
things, sir, to me; let us not hurry our destinies,
they are no doubt fixed by the Supreme Being;
let us calmly await time, which flies swiftly.”

“Ah, that I can aver; in your company
From morn to eve I ne’er would grieve,If I might ever see thee;Then all my prayers, and future cares,Would be, that you might bless me.”

“Upon my word, Mr. Brinckerhoff, I think a
few more lessons, and you will become a poet.
Did you ever hear of Van Catts, the great Dutch
writer, who flourished in 1669sixteen hundred and
? He always wrote with a crow
quill dipped in oil; his soft soothing strains delighted
all hearts.”
“I never heard of such an
author. I must now, my charmer, take leave for
a few days; and may you taste all the sweets of
this life until I return, which will be speedily.”
9(6)v 108
His neighbours began to be suspicious, on his return,
that he had some object in view, and often
interrogated him—he made no reply to their inquiries.
“How happy I am,” he used to exclaim
when he walked up to the barn; “how shall I
conduct myself to merit such good fortune? I
can form no plan to mend my ways; I regularly
attend church; I quarrel with no man; I do not
slander my neighbours: and yet, on reflecting,
I think I am undeserving so much happiness.
In a few days my destiny will be fixed, for I
cannot endure suspense; and should it be unfavourable
to my wishes, I can no longer exist; I
shall wish myself hid in the middle of a conch-
shell along the Jersey shore.”

While musing in this manner, he was surprised
by some huntsmen asking to be informed
if there was any game in the neighbourhood.
He informed them they must go to the interior
of the country; they would there find sport.

It was now some time since Miss Josephine
had written to her parents; they were extremely
solicitous for her return; however, the reason of 10(1)r 109
her silence may be conjectured. One morning
as she was cheapening some tiffany at a store in
Maiden-lane, she was accosted by a young gentleman
of taste and discernment, who very politely
inquired of her how long she had been in
New-York; he immediately asked pardon on
looking at her a second time, as he was mistaken
in her person—he thought her Miss Angelina
, from Tennessee. “Since I have been so
inquisitive and made so great a mistake, may I
presume to ask you by what name I shall address
“Claibourne, Sir.”“What! Josephine?”
“The same.”“How happy I am
to meet you. Don’t you recollect that at a party
near Zainesville, Ohio, I had the pleasure of seeing
you at Judge Bridgefield’s?”
“I recollect
it, Sir”
“May, I presume to take the liberty of
calling on you at your lodgings.”
“I reside in
the lower part of Broadway, near the Bowling
Green, at Mrs. Pettit’s, a cousing of mine. I expect
to return home in about a month, having
written to my parents to that effect.”
He bowed
respectfully, and said he would wait on her. Said
his name was Lucius Emanuel Mantel. He had
travelled to all parts of the world to obtain knowledgevol. ii 10 10(1)v 110
and wealth—two very desirable attainments.

After Miss Josephine returned to her cousin’s,
she mentioned what had passed at her interview
with the young stranger. “Ah!” she exclaimed,
“you have made a conquest—mark my
words. I hope it may prove true, for I feel a
little interested, as I think you will stay somewhat
longer than you intended.”
“You know
I am so engaged in my narrative I have not time
for any other pursuit at present; so do not
teaze me with nonsense. To-morrow I again
visit the museum. There is much agreeable
company there, which is more edifying than seeing
their rare pebbles, fossils, &c.”

The first propensity in the present generation
is to cultivate the mind. It used to be sufficient
if a female could adorn herself. Now the scene
is changed. To finish a young lady, she must
dance, sing, play on some instrument, hasten to
the library for every new publication, just glance
it over as an attorney does a bill in chancery;
and then parade the streets, and return home 10(2)r 111
quite fatigued, fly to the piano; then enters some
jocular, troublesome fellow, who tells all the
scandal of the town, to the great entertainment

“I hope my dear cousin, to convince you of
my affection when I return home, by continually
writing. I should be pleased if I could take
the Pequest on my route home; it would be
rather fatiguing.”

Eight days had now elapsed; and Everardus
again renewed his visit to Raritan,
and was, as usual, welcomely received. To his
astonishment, he found the old gentleman better.
He kindly took him by the hand; very soon
Miss Cornelia entered, with her usual vivacity,
and they spent an agreeable evening. The old
gentleman retired; and the enraptured lover
began, where he left off the last visit, to represent
his ardent attachment. She listened with
satisfaction; and then, in tender accents, exclaimed
“How is it possible, in so short an
acquaintance, I can be prepared to answer such
important questions, whereon the future happiness 10(2)v 112
of my life depends? I now have few cares,
which I am able to bear; but when the scene is
changed, and have a ruler over my conduct, I
cannot say how I may brook it. I may become
peevish and sullen by having too much care; and
do you think you could submit to any whims
that wedlock may ensnare me with?”
certainly; if I continue in the same mind and
opinion, I shall not readily contradict you.—
So, say—will you consent to be mine? Every
action of my life shall be to make you happy.”

She blushed consent; and he left the room, and
retired to bed, but could not sleep. In the morning
he approached her, and begged she would name
the day when they should be united. She begged
him again to ask the old gentleman’s consent,
which he gave in a very pleasing manner, and in
twenty days the marriage was to be solemnized.
He hastily took leave, and returned home to prepare
the house for her reception, and said he
should see her in a few days. The house
was neat and spacious, the fences in good order;
the wagon was new painted and the garden wall
cleaned—that was all that was necessary. He 10(3)r 113
now thought it safe to inform his friend—for he
had but one, and very few acquaintances; the
most that visited him were his relations; that
was customary, to keep up family distinctions.
His friend was Derech Van Boskirk, a handsome
young man, all pure nature, no artificial adornments.
He was son of the minister of the place;
and there was a dignity in his appearance that
exacted respect. His surprise was great when
his friend informed him his intention. “You
had not confidence in me,”
he said, “or you
would have told me before,”
and seemed hurt at
his want of confidence in him. Mr. Brinckerhoff
excused himself, and made satisfactory

The long wished-for day at length arrived;
and the groom dressed in a royal purple coat,
with white vest and pantaloons, with white
gloves. His friend’s coat was prussian blue,
buff vest and pantaloons, white silk stockings
and gloves. Miss Middleswart chose for her
friend Dinah Cortenious, who had the honour of
pulling the glove. The Reverend Dominie Van 10* 10(3)v 114
officiated. There were not many guests,
on account of the old gentleman’s indisposition,.
The two Misses Van Gelders and Miss Rime
were all the females present. Doctor
, being the family physician, and
Counsellor Filcher, the family adviser, were
there. The evening was spent in a pleasing
manner, for all the good things the country
afforded were prepared, sufficient to entertain
many more persons.

The company all retired to their respective
homes; and the happy couple agreed that
they would in one month return to Communipaw.

We shall now leave the happy couple, and
see what has become of Miss Josephine. What
was our surprise to find her in company with
the gentleman who became acquainted with her
in Maiden-lane, Lucius Emanuel Mantel! He
was a perfect master of music, could play on
several instruments, and sing melodiously the
following new song on the beauties of Pequest, 10(4)r 115
which quite delighted Miss Claibourne, as her
aunt lived there.


By the side of Pequest

I reclined me to rest

To efface the thought of my fair,

Whose last chilling look,

In crossing this brook,

Rendered life not worthy my care.


Our shadows were seen,

In thy clear purling stream,

Which the sun, as he sets, can attest:

My fair, haste away,

And no longer delay

To be mine, by the side of Pequest.


The priest joined our hands—

Did not publish our bands

Only by our mutual request.

The bliss which’s in view

No time can undo

Now we’re one by the side of Pequest.

10(4)v 116


Our hearts and our hands,

When we entered the bands,

Appeared to be happy and blessed;

And all our bliss

Is centred on this,—

To be happy the side of Pequest.

The young people spent many agreeable hours
together. He visited the house almost every
day; so Miss Josephine could scarcely finish her
Knickerbocker, her mind was so intent on her
new lover. She begged her cousin not to mention
a word in her letter to her mother, as she
was easily alarmed. After a few walks and
public amusements he became quite captivated,
and addressed her cousin, as her parent who
had the care of her—begged permission to
visit her, which she did not prevent; and in a
few weeks they discovered a mutual passion for
each other. Lucius told her cousin Pettit he
would inform her of his family and expectations,
and what brought him to America. She said
she should be pleased; and he named Monday
next to satisfy her who he was.

10(5)r 117

After his departure, Mr. Pettit addressed his
cousin: “I hope, my dear friend, we may not
be deceived in this stranger, for the world is full
of impostors. He is now going to relate a story
of himself; I hope it will be corroborated by
some person who has a knowledge of him, damaged2 letters
you shall not permit his company; you are under
my care, and you must not offend me. If he
prove to be what he represents himself, I have
no objection to the consummation of your wishes,
as soon as possible; but if any mystery appear,
he must not see us more. In the mean time, we
will write nothing to alarm friends—you must
continue your little history, which I suppose is
nearly finished, and endeavour to give it all the
probability possible, so that your name will be
handed down to posterity for confuting falsehood,
and pointing out the true character of our ancient
city dames, which was industry, economy, and
good manners; and let not the pretended sons
of science contrive to aspire to the easy manners
of our ancestors, whose bosoms never concealed
the venom that now rages, and which sometimes 10(5)v 118
breaks out with uncontrouled vigour, and causes
great confusion in the country.”

Miss Claibourne was quite demure at the
sharp reproaches of her cousin, and could not
damaged4 letters observing, that he himself was a stranger
in this country, and by knowing to dance gracefully,
he had won the heart of his scholar, before
she knew who he was, and that he had every
reason to be thankful that fortune had blessed
him with so amiable a lady.

The day at length arrived, when Lucian
Emanuel Mantel
was to give a succinct account
of his family, birth, fortune and expectations.—
He thus began:

“Ladies, you must excuse my manner of expression.
—In the early part of my life I lived in
France, though I was not born there; my family
is from the river Ibbervell—my father was a
physician, and I was intended for the study of
law; but being an only son, my mother indulged
me to such a degree that I could not be from 10(6)r 119
her a day. I was, notwithstanding, the most unhappy
lad upon earth, and my father being what
is called a hen-pecked husband, left all the management
of the family concerns to her; he would
sometimes say, ‘I fear Lucian will be a blockhead.’
‘No, no,’ she would reply, ‘he will
be wiser as he grows old, and be fond of study.’
On the contrary, the older I grew, the
more indolent I became; and when I was in my
eighteenth year, I lost my dear and kind mother.
How shall I paint my feelings at that hour!—life
lost all its relish, and every thing around appeared
gloomy and sad. Then I mourned, and said
within myself, what on earth can rend the heart
more than grief. They say love will, but that
I cannot admit; grief, excessive grief, and that
for a good mother, is of all afflictions in this life,
the most insupportable. I hope no future troubles,
to which all on earth are subject, will ever
make me so miserable again. My father, after
a few days, accosted me one morning in the following
serious manner:
‘You are now, my son, deprived in a very
sudden manner, of your best friend on earth! —I 10(6)v 120
feel the poignant stroke; it gives a pang which
I cannot express. All my joy was in her, she
was nature’s master-piece—all that was lovely in
woman—gentle, kind, forbearing, communicative,
intelligent, and every way favoured to please
and delight. Alas! my Anna is no more! But
we must not embitter our future days by too
much grief, we must summon fortitude to our
Thus moralized my father, until we both
silently left the room.
My reflections became very painful to me. I
began to think it full time for me to undertake
something for myself; the study of the law required
time of which I had none to spare, and I
had no inclination to be a physician. A thought
struck me as I had an ear for music, and could
play handsomely on the violin, that I would leave
my father and depend on myself for a livelihood.
This course appeared the more necessary, as I
knew his circumstances to be slender; for during
my mother’s life, she could always so manage
as to keep us decently without much expense.
She being now called away, the only expedient 11(1)r 121
I had now, was to apply myself to my violin
whenever my father was called to see a patient,
for I knew he would be mortified that I should
fiddle for a living, we having been considered
the most respectable family at Ibberville—though
poor, the world knew it not, for we always kept up appearances, by the industry and good management
of my mother.
After I had practiced every opportunity, in the
absence of my father, I suggested to him one
day the propriety of leaving him and seeking
my fortune. My inclination he approved, ‘But,
my son,’
said he, ‘what are you competent to
‘Never mind, father, leave that to me—I
shall not disgrace you by my attempt; only permit
me to leave you next week. I shall get my
trunk in readiness; and I have plenty of apparel,
all in good order. I shall proceed to the Sciota,
as I have a good friend there, a relation of my
mother’s, and I shall write you by every conveyance,
the success of my undertaking. Nay,
do not object, dear father; I know your affection
for me is so great that you would wish me in
one of the best situations Congress have to bestow.vol. ii. 11 11(1)v 122
I have no reason at present to expect any
great affair, at my first setting out in life; but I
shall, if I exert myself, (for it is always the case
in a new country,) rise, and then it will afford
you pleasure.’
My father’s countenance changed, and he
looked with astonishment at me, and listened to
my resolutions and buoyant expectations, and
then replied:
‘I shall never oppose such excellent sentiments
as seem to inspire you; all I hope is that
your wishes may be realized. Go, my son;
and may fortune smile upon your undertaking.
But ever bear in mind the example of your mother’s
virtues; and if a thought should enter
your mind derogatory of honour, think on her
that bore you.’
After all things were prepared I left my
father’s house at Ibberville, which, though not
magnificent, was his own. It was situated in a
vale; the garden was laid out in serpentine
walks, and tulips, pinks, roses, and daisies 11(2)r 123
pleased the eye; and when our friends paid us a
visit, my father and mother both delighted to
show their fine garden, and described most pleasantly
every shrub and flower, and its virtues and
fragrance. I recollect his sending a pot of
flowers as a present to the Viceroy of Mexico;
and every rare plant that he could obtain he
would raise, and present it to some great character.
By that means he obtained the name of
the best man at Ibberville. My mother was not
quite so generous; her good qualities were, to
first take care of her own family.
The day arrived on which I was to depart
to the Sciota river; and when I advanced to
take leave, my father fell lifeless on the floor, his
emotion and tenderness were so great. The old
family servant snatched him in his arms, and
Doll, the cook, screamed with the gridiron in her
hand, and would not put it down—all was confusion.
After a few moments my father recovered,
and we parted. He gave me a sum
of money, exceeding what I expected. I suppose
my mother had it, and he thought, in
honour of her memory, he must give it to me. 11(2)v 124
I assure you it was a great pleasure to my weary
mind, that thought of nothing but making money,
like many other of God’s creatures, but
knew not which way to begin.
All great enterprises must be begun; many
a well-bred man consoles himself with pleasant
ideas of what he is going to do—of the thousands
he is going to make; and yet year after year he
is no richer—only lives with the hope of better
On my arrival at the Sciota, the first thing
I thought necessary was to conceal my name,
and the place I came from, for fear it would
bring my father’s gray hairs with sorrow to the
grave, if he thought I was to be either a music or
dancing master, both which I excelled in. For
(I assure you, ladies, that I speak the truth) there
was not a thing on earth that I was sufficient
master of, except these two things. To be sure,
I might have turned dentist, as many have done,
and have broken the jaw bones of asses, like
Sampson; but harmony was my determination.
So I called myself Victor Bicker, that being so 11(3)r 125
uncommon a name I should find none claim relationship,
and I ventured to give a concert—got
acquainted with all the musical characters of
the place, and particularized by playing solo
on the violin. Mrs. Monckton was to play on
the piano-forte; Miss Nuremberg on the guitar,
as that is now quite fashionable; and the full
band, by Halenburg. The evening was fine—
we had a full house. I began with the fiddle.
As it was supposed I had just arrived from Paris,
I met with great applause; and though I was
sensible they were no judges of music, yet, such
is the weakness of the human mind, I was gratified
with their applause. All the satisfaction
that arose in my mind was, that I was in the road
to wealth, and one purse and one heart we musicians
The day after the concert I advertised for
scholars, having just arrived from Paris. It was
some days before any application was made. The
first was Colonel Fitzpatrick; he had two sons;
and the eldest being fond of music, he thought
he would indulge him—called on me to know
my terms. I told him, a guinea entrance, and 11* 11(3)v 126
twenty-five dollars for three months. He was
willing I should begin with him on Tuesday,
which I did. He was rather slow at first;
however, by perseverance, he improved.
I then undertook to teach dancing, and was
very successful. All that made me unhappy,
was, that I knew I was a deceiver, as I had never
been to Paris. It was my necessities compelled
me to deceive, in order to obtain support. My
next consideration was, to form some plan to
write to my father, as I knew it would give him
pleasure to know that I was making money. I
had no ambition to more than a living until his
death, when I knew I should have a competency
at Ibberville. I wrote him, and dated my letter—
‘Succasunny Plains, New-Jersey, Morris county
—to the care of ’Squire Norcross,’
who had a
relation boarded in the same house at Sciota
with me. He planned it for me to deceive my
father, and not to let him or any other of my
relations know I was a music and dancing
Every leisure moment I applied to the improvement 11(4)r 127
of myself—thought very little of the
attention that was necessary to improve my
scholars; all that I was particular in, was exactly
dating the lessons I gave, and every week summing
up my accounts, to know what I was to
receive, as my pupils were all of the richest
After I wrote to my father, I received a letter
from him in eight weeks from the date of
mine. I was not happy—he begged me to be
more particular in my next, what business I was
in. I thought I would wait a reasonable time, and
then write I was a broker and bought uncurrent
notes, and had met with a friend. So, upon
reflections, I began to think the dreadful conse—
quences of untruth. I had begun to deceive the
best of fathers, through pride; and now I was
wrecked to invent probabilities to strengthen my
first suggestions.
In the second letter from my father, he mentioned
to me that, as he was so suddenly deprived
of my mother, and my soon following her, and
being left alone, he had been so fortunate as to 11(4)v 128
become acquainted with a widow of some property
at the Chickaswaw Bluffs. Her husband
was interpreter to the Indians, and accumulated
wealth. She had an only daughter, whose
manners were entirely uncultivated, whom she
intended to send to Philadelphia for her improvement,
being fourteen years of age. Her name
was Orra; her countenance was lovely, with a
penetrating black eye—quite reserved in her
manners. After a short acquaintance, my father
wrote me that, being so lonely, he had proposed
marriage to Mrs. Blacklock, which she had
accepted; and they are to be married next
month. I suppose my father will then remove to
the Chickasaw Bluffs, and let me have possession
of the estate, though small, at Ibberville.
I shall forbear, ladies, to be tedious in my
narrative; suffice it to say, that after making as
much as I thought sufficient to go to New-York,
I would try to get in some respectable situation,
though I was confident I could not keep it,
so that I might then with truth inform my father,
and prepare to return to Ibberville. Just as
these ideas crowded on my mind, when I arrived 11(5)r 129
in New-York, and was in pursuit of what my
imagination had planned, I was struck with your
appearance, when I first met you, in Maiden-
. And now I have the honour, my dear
Miss, of assuring you, that every sentence I have
expressed towards you, is perfectly true. Here I
am, in the magnificent city of New-York, like
many others, with a small sum of money, just
sufficient to appear and be comfortable, as I have
plenty of fine clothes; and that, in the present
day, is no recommendation, as every person
you now meet is neatly dressed, clothing being
so cheap.”

Having finished his narrative, Lucious Emanuel
apologised for having detained the
ladies, which he hoped they would excuse, and
particularly the subject, which is rather dull; “but
you cannot, my dear ladies,”
said he, “complain
that I have taken up much of your time in describing
all the achs and pains I had to bear;
many a long hour have I sat and heard people
complain of the nervous or sick headache, trembling
of the nerves, want of appetite, a severe
cold they had caught going to church on a rainy 11(5)v 130
Sunday, until my patience has been exhausted,
and hear that Doctor Tanzy had advised them
to be bled or take an airing; these were what
you would call men of propriety—I always endeavoured
to change the subject, and begin with
them about their tenants, and the heavy taxes
the corporation burthened them with, for public
dinners and fourth of July expenditures; then my
complaining friends would forget all their imaginary
ills, and brighten up their countenance
with this kind of reply—it is all very true what
you say, our country is ruined by such an influx
of foreigners, and we shall never see the happy
times that are past.”

“I now, Miss Claibourne, must leave you, as
my landlady where I board seems to look on me
with a suspicious eye, and God knows my heart,
I have no evil in it; tomorrow evening I shall
call, and see what impression my story has made
on you, and whether you would condescend to
hear a short tale that I have to relate. Adieu,
my dear patient girl, and when we meet again, I
hope we shall be more happy.”

11(6)r 131

After he left the room, I cannot describe my
feelings; the last words he uttered were a plain
demonstration that he had formed an attachment
to me, which he forbore to hint until the moment
he left me; I cannot say that his words were offensive;
on the contrary, I am perfectly reconciled
to the event. I have only now to prepare for
his again seeing me, which will be in a few
hours. How feeling the manner in which he
expressed the loss of his mother:—a good son
will make a good husband, is an old saying.

I had a party of ladies and gentlemen to tea
with me, which made the day pass off agreeably
and when I retired to my downy bed, the
thoughts of my dear parents at the Ohio, and my
cousin Bridgefield in particular, who all had my
prosperity so much at heart, would not be much
pleased with my attachment to an adventurer,
and particularly one who made no secret of his
situation. It was this circumstance that engaged
my attention; his frankness, and his abhorrence
of falsehood, only as they were necessary
to his existence, and not wishing to hurt the feelings 11(6)v 132
of his father, was in some measure a palliation
of the offence.

My cousin Pettit just brought a letter from the
post office for me, from my parents, wherein they
say they expect me home next month, beg I
would mention the day and hour that I will leave
here, in order that they may meet me at Washington
. My friends are in tip-toe expectation
of seeing me, and wish, of all things, that I
will bring with me all the new fashions, all the
new songs, and every matrimonial engagement
on foot. I feel myself inadequate to the task, as
most of my time has been spent in writing and
reading, and such persons are mostly very careless.
A loud rap at the hall, and Lucious Emanuel
entered. He was a tall, genteel
young man, about twenty-two years of age, of
dark complexion and dark hair, pleasant and
good humoured in conversation, and was never
at a loss for words; at times he appeared absorbed
in thought, and would appear as though he had
awoke out of a trance.

“I hope Mrs. Pettit will be at home,” was his 12(1)r 133
first expression, but she was gone to Long Island
to see the races, which seems to afford great
pleasure to the mind, and is a fashionable amusement
in America; the State of Virginia is extremely
mortified that we eclipse them in race

Miss Josephine Claibourne addressed her
friend and lover, after the following manner:— “I have been in New-York eleven months; I
am very certain that my motive you never would
think of.”
“Why Miss, I think to charm hearts
would be gratification enough for a young lady.”

“That idea never entered my mind; to be plain
sir, and speak as you do, it has been my only
wish, to collect what intelligence I could of the
ancient settlers of New-York, now styled Knickerbockers,
which has afforded the outlandish of
every country an opportunity to ridicule them in
a singular manner; and being well convinced
that there are few in the city who would devote
any of their leisure moments to the explanation
of their true character, particularly my sex, who
spend their leisure time in the pleasant walks in
Broadway—the young and handsome I mean.”

vol. ii. 12 12(1)v 134

“Well, miss, I think this city can boast of
more beauty, and fine dressed ladies, than any
other part of the world; I have heard that of many
of my friends, who aver it: but for literature
and psalm-singing, answering rebusses, writing
acrostics, &c. the eastern ladies excel. The spirit
moves them sometimes to exhort people to
cast off iniquity, and deck themselves in robes of
godliness; and in some parts of the state of New-
, there is a set of people who shake their
sins away.”

“I think I have heard of that society, Sir,”
replied Miss Josephine; “and I will let you see
my Sketch Book. I am certain you cannot contradict
me, the subject being so new to you.”

“I shall wait on you in a few days, Miss, as I
am invited to spend a few days at Mynheer Van
at Croton, who, I am told, is the most
hospitable man, and smokes out of the longest
pipe in that place. I met him at the cook shop
where I took a luncheon; and he became suddenly
taken with me, he said because I looked
so much like a brother he lost at sea, and who 12(2)r 135
was never heard of. It is somewhat singular
that these sudden friendships sometimes end in
sad catastrophes; I hope this will not be the
case. On my return, I will particularize every
thing I hear and see, for your amusement. It
will add to your Sketch Book, though I am not
good at description. On Saturday I shall go in
the steam boat; and when I return you will, I
hope, gratify me with your opinion of others,
and, to crown all, at last open your heart to me,
and I will snatch the tender string that vibrates;
and if for me, I will arise with the morn,
and bless my better stars that so much bliss has
been laid in store for me, though quite unworthy.
Now, I pray, let your Knickerbocker be laid
aside, and think only of him who, in all the
changing scenes of life, will adore you, and by
every laudable means in his power endeavour to
make life easy to you, and, if possible, strew
your morning walks with rose-buds of delight.
I leave you, my angelic Miss, to your own reflections;
and think, devoutly think on him who is
always the same, and does not delight to trifle
away the few moments that are given us in this
world in vain pretensions. I go with the hope, 12(2)v 136
when I return, to make you mine, with all your
inestimable qualities; and then the world with
all its allurements will no longer invite my
giddy thoughts; you will, I think, absorb my
whole soul; and our love shall be as strong as
that of Abelard and Eloise.”

To the great surprise of the Pettit family,
and the amazement of Miss Josephine, her father
arrived from Zainesville, Ohio,, to fetch his
daughter. In vain did she assure him she had
not finished her writing. He mentioned that he
thought her mother was in a decline, and that
she wished, of all things, to see her; and he,
being apprehensive that she, perhaps, would not
live a month, had hastened to New-York, and
could not possibly stay more than one day, and
had engaged his and his daughter’s passage.
The family were all astonished, but did not mention
a word of the young lady’s love. She immediately
made preparation for her departure,
not omitting to write to Croton how she was unexpectedly
called away, and that to see the last
moments of her tender mother, and he knew how
to pity her. She mentioned it would be unnecessary 12(3)r 137
for him to follow her on such a long
journey—she would write him every particular
under cover of her cousin, Mrs. Pettit, and give
him directions where he should direct to her, as
she knew her father’s stern manner, who, she
was certain, would never consent to her marriage
until she was older. She was perfectly acquainted
with his sentiments with respect to early
marriages, which he abhorred, as young ladies
did not know, until they arrived at years of discretion,
what a vast number of attentions were
necessary to secure the affections of a husband.
Every look of a woman, after marriage, becomes
of consequence; every word must be studied, for
fear it may admit two meanings, and the tender
husband may misconstrue the real one.

How hard is the lot of woman! Pain, care,
and anxiety for the good of her family, overwhelm
her! And if, unfortunately, she is linked
to an ignorant usurper, what is then her lot!—
Pining discontent, and black despair! Her vivid
looks vanish; she sinks into some fatal malady;
and knows not what method to take to please
him who never will be pleased. She then passes 12* 12(3)v 138
her days in indifference; he becomes vexed, and
flies to the company of bacchanalians for an hour
of recreation and forgetfulness; his children become
neglected; and when he returns home at a
late hour, reproaches are the entertainment till
Somnus closes his eyes. And on the morrow it
is all as a dream, only his pockets are rifled of
what would be sufficient to support the family
the next day. Then economy is the burthen of
the song; and what has been spent in folly must
be saved, at the risque of the children’s health;
for it is a solemn truth, that good, wholesome
food prevents sickness, and drives away the doctor,
the nurse, and the sexton.

How many have lost their health by abstemiousness!
Many a tender female, for fear of becoming
gross and vulgar, will not eat meat,
butter, &c. What is the consequence? Consumption,
and all its sorrowful train!

Governor Claibourne left his wife in the care
of her friend, Mrs. Priscilla Bridgefield, who promised
to attend her until his return. She had 12(4)r 139
her little darling with her, whom I have not
mentioned before, named after the Judge.

On the journey home the father and daughter
were quite sad; nothing could enliven them,
though they met with good company in the
steam boats, and fine feasting, with a particular
imitation of grandeur. A person, for a short
time, in the steam boats lives like a king; and
the cabin, so exquisitely furnished, makes him
full of importance. How soon the scene changes!
A man returns to his home—his wife, perhaps
in her night cap and morning gown, scolding the
servants for letting the cat eat the cream. What
a change a few hours make! All things in
this life pass away as a dream, and there is nothing
sure, only death—that is certain. But
when it will arrive we do not know, nor wish to

During the absence of the Governor for his
daughter, Mrs. Claibourne’s life was despaired
of, and preparation for that event was making.
When they arrived a solemn sadness appeared on 12(4)v 140
all around—the knocker tied with linen, which
startled Josephine; however, she hurried in, and
the sight of her mother, though near death, was
satisfactory to her. She silently gazed on her
dear daughter, and made signs to embrace her,
but could not rise. Mrs. Bridgefield was overwhelmed
with joy to see her dear cousin once
more, and assisted the servant to raise Mrs.
; but she was too weak to make any
effort; she sunk again into her bed, and could
scarcely speak. Her daughter embraced her
after she spoke a little, when her husband entered
the room. He clasped her hand in his,
and poured out the following ejaculations:—

“Great Disposer of Events, grant, I beseech
thee, that my beloved partner may rise once
more from this bed of affliction, and again visit
thy tabernacle, and thank thee for all thy goodness
to her and the family, and I will sing hallelujahs
to the Lamb that sitteth upon the throne.
Mercifully Great Omnipotent, restore her once
more to her dejected family, who will praise
thee in thy gates.”

12(5)r 141

He then retired, and Mrs. Bridgefield gave her
a little tamarind water to drink—she could
eat nothing—and observed that she had poor
hopes of her recovery. The doctor then entered
the room, and, keeping a profound silence, which
always discovers skill, shook his head and went
away—made no remarks. Mrs. Bridgefield took
this as an unfavourable omen; Miss Josephine
shed tears; and it was an unhappy family. She
survived but a few days. She begged to see the
Rev. Mr. Sampson, and he prayed with her and
for her, from the following words:—“Blessed
are the dead that die in the Lord, for their
works do follow them.”
She continued a few
days, and the day before her death she was apparently
better. She called Josephine to her
bed, and thus addressed her:—

“Weep not for me, for I go, I trust, to the
place of my Redeemer, where you will, sooner
or later, follow me. Comfort your father, and
be to him both me and yourself; and I hope that
as reason ascends in your mind; you will prepare
to follow me. Let it be your first and 12(5)v 142
morning song to praise your Redeemer; and
remember, in this life there is nothing desirable
but the love of God.”

Miss Josephine said to her mother, as she had
always endeavoured to obey her, she should, in
a particular manner, strive to follow her advice—
and left the room; when she dozed a little, and
they left the nurse waiting on her.

Just as they entered the drawing room, Judge
arrived to fetch his wife, but they
could not remove her, as the doctor said she
would not live two days; he consented to let her
remain, and returned home. The family were
all in commotion, preparing for the sad event,
which finally took place. She died without a
struggle, in the forty-second year of her age,
leaving Josephine under the particular care of
Mrs. Bridgefield.

After Lucius Emanuel Mantel came from
Croton, judge his surprise to hear that Miss Josephine’s
letter had miscarried, but Mrs. Pettit
gave him all the particulars, and he resigned 12(6)r 143
himself to patience, for he was assured of her
partiality, and had only to await the event of
time. He very soon established himself in business,
as he had now some inducement, and was
very assiduous to make money; in a day or
two he got his letter, and was perfectly reconciled
to his doom. After a few weeks, Mr. Pettit
received a letter with the melancholly account
of the death of Mrs. Claibourne, and Miss Josephine
being under the care of her cousin; he
was now convinced that he should see her in a
few months, and should endeavour by all industrious
means to make money. He had received
a letter from his father, giving him an account of
his marriage with the widow of the Indian Interpreter,
at the Chickasaw Bluffs, and having
sent her daughter to boarding school at Philadelphia,
and that he intended to remove to the
Bluffs, as the practice of physic was his business,
he would obtain wealth.

However, that was not named; as she was a
lady of property, and much esteemed him, the
place at Ibberville would ere long be for his benefit.
“I shall not,” said he, “depend entirely on that 12(6)v 144
prospect, but try to improve my mind, and pursue
what I know will be agreeable to her my heart
adores, for she is now more dear than ever, and
when I again behold her, nothing shall separate
us, father, cousin, friend, nor relation—she must
be mine—we are destined for each other. Welcome
morning sun, and evening stars, and cloudy
skies and moon light evenings—all welcome!
for you hasten the hour when I shall again behold
her who is dearer to me than life—welcome,
then ye frosts, and snow, short days, and long
nights; they are all the same to him who lives
on hope—with all thy changes hasten, and bring
the expected hour—while hope soothes the weary
mind, I shall pass the time in agreeable anticipation!”

The next news from Zainesville was a letter
from Miss Josephine to her cousin, with an account
of all the sorrow of the surrounding peasantry,
as Mrs. Claibourne was much esteemed for
the many agreeable traits in her character. She
mentioned Mantel’s name in a very delicate manner,
and also the excessive grief of her father;
she wrote by every opportunity.

13(1)r 145

Miss Pettit was agreeably surprised by a visit
from her mother living at the Pequest, who came
to spend some time with her daughter, and to
gain information of all that had happened since
Miss Josephine had undertook her history, for
the country around, where she resided, had been
promised with a perusal of her production, as
soon as published.

New-York was in commotion, in the expectation
of the arrival of the Marquis La Fayette,
a great friend to America in the revolutionary
war. Those veterans who esteemed him, and
bore him company in his perilous conflicts, the
days which tried mens’ souls, are now mostly
consigned to the tomb—melancholly thought!
What a gratification it would have been to those
brave men to have seen the present rising generation
in the zenith of their splendour, hailing the
approach to our shores, of one of the founders of
this grand Republic.

Not many days had elapsed, when a second
letter was received from the Ohio, from Mrs. vol. ii 13 13(1)v 146
, who endeavoured to describe the
feelings of her friends, at their late misfortune
and irreparable loss. Grief fills the mind with
the most indescribable sensation; all other passions
afford in their description, some entertainment,
but this alone makes us careless of the
world, and indifferent in our pursuits; and were
it not that time in some measure takes away the
poignant sting, who could endure it? The greatest
philosopher has not fortitude to subdue his
feelings, but silently roves unknowing where to
find consolation, some times imagining that a
change of objects will pour the healing balm of
comfort into his dejected bosom.

“To him who is with grief oppress’d, The day seems long, the night no rest, Till Sol, her annual round doth give Some pleasing scenes, that you may live; For we’re but meteors of a day, Like snow, we melt, and pass away.”

Mrs. Bridgefield is very happy in the married
life; all she laments is that she had no propensity
until her friends alarmed her, by telling her 13(2)r 147
she would be doomed to lead apes; so she was
hurried into wedlock, without a sigh or a tear.
She often tells the Judge, that had they seen each
other in earlier life, many blessings might have
attended them, which they are now deprived of.
They have lost their only son, a fine child, and
seem now so happy with Miss Josephine, that I
think they will not willingly part with her, she
is so entertaining. People advanced in years,
of a good constitution, enjoy company: thus it
was a Judge Bridgefield’s, for he was fond of a
joke, and never engrossed all the conversation
himself, it not being polite; and his house, as I
before observed, was visited by all classes of people,
he was so humane.

It was on Monday, being Easter, all the neighbours
assembled, as Mr. Bridgefield officiated,
and they all went to the meeting-house, which
stood four miles on the turnpike road; but no
money was taken from those going to church;
all passed free on Sunday. The congregation was
very large, and the meeting-house small, so many
persons had to stay outside. Among the number, 13(2)v 148
Judge Bridgefield could not get a seat, and
Miss Josephine did not grieve much at that, as
she had an opportunity of seeing all the young
country gentlemen, who almost always stared
at the door. Among them was deacon Burnet’s
son, just from Washington City, where he had
been studying law; he was an elegant youth, of
engaging manners, and polite address, seeing
Miss Josephine standing, he rose and made her a
seat from the branches of trees that were near,
for which she returned him many thanks. He
never left her during the sermon, and on her getting
into the carriage, he asked the favour to accompany
her home, which she could not refuse
him. Judge Bridgefield treated him very kindly,
and Miss Claibourne entertained him with
the manners of the ladies of New-York, who, she
observed, “had all the accomplishment necessary
to adorn the female character, and a disposition
to make every thing agreeable; there is not that
distrust at the sight of a stranger, that is so common
in Europe—an immediate acquaintance
takes place without that formality which is so
disgusting to strangers—that cold, shy look—all
is pleasantry and good humour.”

13(3)r 149

“I should be much plased to make a visit to
that opulent city.”

“Well, if I should ever again see it, depend
on it I shall be much pleased to meet you; for I
assure you, the museum and castle garden would
both so delight you, that you would never again
wish to leave the city.”

James Madison Burnet, son of the deacon,
was just three and twenty years of age, of a sandy
complexion, had penetrating eyes, and a remarkable
fine voice. There was a peculiar turn
in his expression, and a double meaning in almost
every thing he said—suited exactly to the profession
he had chosen to live by. He was a
great admirer of the ladies, and Miss Josephine
mistook his attention for more than mere gallantry,
for she was not sufficiently acquainted with
the subterfuges made use of by the men to gain
the female heart—she thought all was sincerity
and truth.

Judge Bridgefield endeavoured to make time
pass agreeable, for he spent the days at his hospitable13* 13(3)v 150
house. Fishing, fowling, and every recreation
to please a gentleman was resorted to,
and time passed off in such a manner as to wish
a continuance. The last day of his visit, he asked
Miss Josephine to take a little ramble in the
neighbourhood to see the peasants, which she
cheerfully did, and in rising a little summit, he
took her by the hand, and pressed her to his bosom:

“Oh! divine fair, what language can paint my
feelings toward you, fairest of the creation, and
heaven’s best gift! I must acknowledge your
power, and await your smiles, which would add
a bliss not to be found elsewhere in this world.”

A blush o’erspread the cheeks of Miss Josephine,
and the recollection of her admired Lucius
Emanuel Mantel
, darted into her mind, being
conscious she had given him some hope, and he
only waited the event of time, until she should
become reconciled to the death of her mother,
which was now near six months, and she daily
expected to hear from him. She behaved with all 13(4)r 151
politeness she was capable of toward the lawyer,
said his conversation and sentiments were unexpected
to her—begged him to discontinue the
subject, as her mother’s death had banished every
passion but grief from her mind, and that she
must indulge for some time yet. He seemed
unhappy, and in extacy exclaimed,

“I shall always love you, in sorrow or in joy;
my passion is not to be subdued by grief—death
only can ease me; and if I am not suffered to
hope, I must fly to some remedy. I cannot endure
so much misery.”

She seemed panic-struck, and thought it best
not to fill him with vain hope, for her heart was
gone, Mantel had it; so she began in a mild,
soothing manner, to lament his misplaced affection:
“Sir, I must, though painful the task, assure
you, that my heart is not at my own disposal;
I have left it in care of a person, whom
I thought deserved the confidence; and when
time shall elapse, and my inclination lead me, I
shall regain it with the satisfaction of obtaining
double, for two instead of one shall be in my 13(4)v 152
possession. Do not chide me for my sincerity,
I act agreeably to the dictates of honour.”

They both quickly returned to the house, but
in perfect silence, and were met in the hall by
the good lady, who observed they looked gloomy;
(for they could not hide their chagrin,) she handed
them some refreshments and wine—he gave
the following toasts:

“May the hope of happiness, that is now the
first wish of your heart, be realized to the satisfaction
of your friends.”

She bowed, and then gave the following toast:

“May no disappointments that you may have
met with in this busy world cause one sigh, and
may happiness await you.”

“I think, my dear young friend, you are quite
sentimental. I wish I perfectly understood you.”

Mrs. B. was naturally so inquisitive she could
not rest—all impatience to know what meant all
this rumour, which the young people were determined 13(5)r 153
should for ever remain a secret between
them. So expectation was kept on tip-toe.

The Counsellor took leave of the polite family,
assuring them he should again see them. Miss
situation can be better felt than described.
Her father, who had been travelling,
returned to Mrs. B.’s, and they spent a few days
together. Judge B. brought a letter from the
post-office to Miss Josephine; it was what she
expected, and enclosed an epistle from her friend
and lover, who made sad complaints of the tedidiousness
of time, how many vibrations before
the clock struck ten, for that was the hour he
always wished for, and then he thought he could
dream something agreeable.

The critical moment had now arrived, when
she must make known to her father her
solemn intention. “Oh—how shall I reveal it
to him? His tender heart, I know, feels
for me; and he now wants to part with me.
When he comes to reflect that I shall have
a protector, he will forget his feelings, to the
gratifying of my own. To-morrow—oh, to- 13(5)v 154
morrow will I address him, and, in the fulness
of my heart, exclaim,—my hand is promised
to another, and, my respected, indulgent, kind
parent, forgive me my attachment—you shall
never have cause to mourn for my intentions.”

Just as she was in this soliloquy, some of the
neighbours called to spend the evening. Among
the number were Rev. Mr. Fantorn and
lady, who came to commiserate with the father
and daughter, for their late loss. The old divine
began in the following manner to comfort
them:—“The Lord hath given, and he hath taken
away: blessed be his name;”
and his kind helpmate
said, “The clay is in the hands of the potter,
and he moulds and fashions it agreeably to his
divine will.”
“True, indeed,” said the Governor;
“we must submit to the will of him who
governs the world by his omnipotent power; and
we must, like Job, patiently bear the ills of life.”

After Judge B. and lady entered, the conversation
became more lively, and the kind offers of wine
cake, and cordials, seemed to enliven the priest
and his spouse. A sumptuous dinner was served
up in style, at the head of which was a sirloin 13(6)r 155
of beef, and cabbage, and a fine fat pig, nicely
crisped and browned. The Reverend Divine
smacked his lips, and said that he thought good
eating and drinking was the most desirable thing
in life. His wife interrupted him, and said she
thought good health was more. He said, —
“How can you have good health, if you live
poor? The blood becomes impoverished; and
half the deaths by consumption are on account of
their abstemiousness, and stinting children, to
make them wise and meek. I by no means
commend gluttony; that is odious; but to have
good food and thankful hearts, is a great blessing:
so says Solomon, the wise.”

The friendly party enjoyed themselves, talking
over every dish, which seemed to give a
double relish; and the Reverend Divine and his
lady feasted to their mutual satisfaction, tasting
every dish. In the evening they returned to
their comfortable homes, leaving the family as
much pleased when they absented themselves,
as when they came.

Miss Josephine, being now alone with her 13(6)v156
father, began:—“I hope, honoured Sir, that
what I am going to communicate will in no
manner offend you, particularly as my parents
have done the same. To be explicit, my dear
father, I have fixed my heart on a young gentleman
in New-York, who, I know, is now pining
for me; and should I be so unfortunate as to
incur your displeasure, I shall be miserable.—
When will you reflect, and tell me your mind on
the subject so near my heart?”
He stood aghast;
surprise, indignation, and horror, seemed to fill
his mind, which was almost bursting. He cried
out,—“Unthinking girl, to serve me so! me, that
instilled in you, in your early days, a desire to
please those that begot you—I now doubly feel
your undutifulness, being left alone—me, that
collected all the good examples that were to be
obtained to set before you, and hoped—oh, how
vainly!—hoped that you would have been exemplary,
and sent you to New-York, not to
learn to love, for you are yet too young, but to
show the world the talents that nature has
blessed you with, and to confute the Knickerbocker
story that enlivens so many strange
wealthy emigrants, that they are in a country 14(1)r 157
whose founders and institutors were as dull as
beetles. I spurn, I say, such indignities offered
to the founders of the great city of New-York,
whose early inhabitants were men of goodness,
wisdom, and piety; they panted not for liberty—
what liberty?—to remove their neighbour’s landmark,
so expressly bforbidden in the Old and
New Testament. Much I fear that these cries
for liberty (for many, very many, have no property)
only mean a desire to be great, to be busy,
to be inquisitive, to know what is in the banks,
in order to tax the usurer, whose waking dreams
teach him only the rule to multiply, to take from
and then add—two to four make six. The
word liberty is in high estimation in the present
day; poverty and all its wretched train fly
from the sound.

Their pomp and folly swells the mighty group,
and ignorance and vice stares them in the face.
Avaunt! ye haughty train! Is it wealth you
seek by all your subterfuges? then welcome ye
sons of Plutus, to the scraps that fall from the
table of the great and good characters, who rise vol. ii. 14 14(1)v 158
above your paltry treasure—may you feel for
your folly.

I cannot, my dear daughter, consent that you
should change your name until you finish what
you have begun, and convince the world that you
are capable of giving a true account of the ancestors
of the rising generation. They studied not
Lavater to read the mind of man, for his looks
in those days were alike with his feelings, he
could not ‘smile and smile, yet be a villain.’
At the present day our country is filled with a
variety of characters—men from every part of
the world. Now, my dear daughter, I expect
that you will continue your book, in favour
of the Knickerbockers—let not the world
be deceived by slanderous publications—continue
in the truth, for that overcometh all things. I
shall now take my leave of you and proceed to
the Potomac, and from thence to Acomac, Virginia;
you can go in the stage direct to Philadelphia
and New-York—prepare for your journey
as speedily as possible, and bear in mind the
advice of your father, or you will have no luck,
and next to him, your cousin Pettit, whom I 14(2)r 159
shall write to; and I shall expect that in the
course of three months, you will have finished
your writings, to the satisfaction of all those who
know what they read—so you shall heap coals
of fire on those who have written contrary to the

I shall not at present say any thing of the journey,
only that hope and joy filled my bosom; and
on entering my friend’s house, she received me
with that composure which was habitual to her;
no sudden rapture—no wild emotion—she was
and is an excellent woman, joy and sorrow are alike
to her; she discovers no violent sensation.

I rose early in the morning, and following the
road my father pointed me, I went as heretofore
to the museum. Curiosity being my motive, I
was highly gratified; there were many additions
since my last visit; the grand likeness of the
Marquis Lafayette. He was very assiduous
in the late revolutionary war, and assisted the
Americans in their emancipation from British
thraldom; he was particularly agreeable to the
late General Washington—he visited him often 14(2)v 160
at head quarters in Morristown in the year 17771777,
and was busily engaged in assisting America.

I then particularly inquired if the people in
this city were so proud in former days: “Oh,
they did not want for that,”
replied the keeper,
“but it was a kind of sentimental pride, a pride
to do good, to cheer the broken-hearted, to diffuse
comfort, to pour oil and balm into their
wounded hearts; it was not the pride of the present
generation, to build magnificent temples for
the great to live in, to make gardens and take
toll for entering, when they were intended for
the health of the citizens, to open streets so that
the great may turn more conveniently with
their carriages, to meet in separate districts to
devise plans for raising a revenue to close a large
square, to extract money from those who have
nothing, to bury the dead, for all the present
race seem in commotion to be great.”

I likewise discovered, that in those days
of goodness and truth, there was no lucre held
out to encourage mankind to go to law; all men
had a just aversion to that, thinking it best to 14(3)r 161
lose the contested property, than risque any more
after it. In this was wisdom not to be found in
the present generation. Every man is now a
counsellor, and every man thinks he has a friend,
who in fact cares not for him, but is a cheap adviser
when urgency requires. How wretched
must that mortal be who has no firm opinion of
his own, but must advise with his friend, who
from the impulse of the moment is prompted to
speak what first occurs to his mind, and the patient
hearer is satisfied, and returns to his dear
fireside quite contented. It is in vain to remonstrate,
and happy is that being, who, as Burns
the great poet says,
“Can look and laugh at a’ that.”

After a few days, I went no more to the museum,
but employed my leisure hours in the committing
to paper, what I had already seen, and paying
visits to my friends, in order to remove from
my mind reflections the most painful. The loss
of my dear parent I now began sensibly to feel,
and the world lost most of its charms; I had no
brother or sister to whom I could unbosom myself,14* 14(3)v 162
and my father at such a distance, that I began
to give myself up to despair. The idea of
making myself of use and entertainment to the
world, seemed to wear from my mind, and every
day I became less fond of writing. At length,
one morning as I was musing over some old manuscripts,
my cousin entered my apartment—

“I have just,” said she, “read a letter from
Ibberville; it is from our friend, who informs me
that his father has just put him in possession of
his farm, he having removed to Chickasaw
, on the farm of his lady. He also most
particularly wished me to write to him, as soon
as you returned to New-York, and inform him
of your real sentiments, as he will then know
what course to pursue, and will be guided by
what you may think proper to advance.”

I sunk into the arms of my friend, knowing
not what to determine. My father’s late severe
remonstrations burst on my mind, and I did not
dare forget them. It was now that I felt the loss
of my mother; she was my adviser in all intricate
matters—alas! she is no more! This being the 14(4)r 163
most important trial which I have ever met, I
shall, notwithstanding the hurry of the moment,
deliberate as quickly as possible.

“Now, my dear friend, this is my resolution:
I know that my father’s affection for me is unbounded,
but I will risque his displeasure. In
the first place, write to Ibberville that I have returned,
and am busily engaged, at the request of
my father, in finishing my writings, which will
yet take three months close application, and during
that time he can write me, giving me information
where to direct my communications to
him, the subject of our correspondence to remain
within our own breast, as nothing appears at present,
but the want of a little time, to make us
happy. I shall continually write to my father,
and endeavour to gain on his heart so as to obtain
his consent, for I think it an incumbent duty
to obey my father, and I have no doubt but
I shall soothe him in time.”

After a few moments, my cousin left the room
to write to our friend, while I continued writing
my history, which I think is almost enough 14(4)v 164
to prepare for the press. I confess that I have
no wish to become conspicuous; the lonely grove
and warbling birds, the croaking of frogs in a
marshy pond, give more delight to me, than the
flattering adulation of a thousand tongues. I
wish not praise—I sigh not for grandeur nor riches;
the humble walks of life have to me more
charms, and afford more real happiness, than is
to be found in costly palaces. I wish not to increase
the trouble on my mind, by froward ambition;
let me wander unseen and unnoticed, so
as not to excite envy.

The season is now charming, and an evening
walk to Castle Garden is like paradise. There
beauty displays all her allurements, for where
pleased, woman exceeds all God’s creation, there
lordly man is all officiousness, his ready attention
is evident. But on the morrow, when the
banks open, and he has obligations to encounter,
then horror seizes him, and distractedly he
walks until almost faint, when at length the
clock strikes three, and a respite takes place—
he immediately seeks pleasure at the expense of
his next day’s feelings—he cares not! So hurries 14(5)r 165
on the life of man—another and another day
fills up the round of his life, and then he is no
more seen. All that follows is his good name,
and the good deeds he has performed.

I now began to prepare my novel for the press
by the assistance of a friend, when I received
from my father, the following epistle:

My dear and affectionate Daughter, Since I last saw you my mind has been unhappy,
in thinking that the injunction I laid on you
at our parting was rather severe, well knowing,
on reflection, that youthful passions are sometimes
not easily overcome; and reflecting, that
you have always been the most dutiful child on
earth, I abhorred myself for endeavouring to
check your growing passion for a youth who, I
have since heard, is a pattern of excellence. I
now, my dear daughter, permit you to conduct
yourself agreeably to the feelings of your heart, 14(5)v 166
and shall never bar your happiness, which is
so nearly linked to my own.
Act then, dear child, as becomes a good woman;
be frank and sincere to the man that loves
you, and do not, like many of your sex, triumph
in your power. Soften his affliction by sympathy,
and, if the storms of life ever have, or ever
should o’ercast his brow, be as the rising sun,
dispel the mist, and banish all his sorrow. So
shall the paths of life, which you are now just
beginning to walk, be smoother than velvet, and
fancy’s airy train shall follow you in all your
steps, and lead you to ambrosial feasts, such as
mortals wish for. All I wish is, that you would
finish the writing you have begun; for when
Hymen has bound you for life, you cannot so
well amuse the world; your thoughts then will
be so engrossed and your attention so required by
family concerns, to make every one around you
happy, that the world and the sojourners in it
will not claim your attention.
I must at last conclude, hoping at our next
meeting there will be more to share the happiness 14(6)r 167
we now look for. Adieu, my ever obedient
Your tender father, George W. Claibourne.”

Miss Josephine was all joy at the receipt of
this letter. She had anticipated her father’s
forgiveness. Her mind was now at rest, and she
continued her writings—only experienced a short
interruption by the arrival from Pequest of her
cousin, father, and mother, who spent only a few
days in New-York—were very much elated at
the growing wealth of the city. The old gentleman
thought it would be the London of America.
The manners, he observed, of all the inhabitants
were much changed in the present day, from
what they were in his youth. For their best
clothes seemed now every day on, as it appeared
to please the wearers, of all colours,
to be finely dressed; for, he truly observed, as
this was a free country, all were alike. For
“the Ethiopian cannot change his skin, nor the
leopard his spots.”
He was also pleased to see
the scientific improvements in the old coloured
people who were formerly engaged on Sundays
in preparing dainties for the appetites of the 14(6)v 168
affluent; they now go to Sunday schools, which
are well directed, and particularly attended to by
African characters.

“For blessings every wait on virtuous deeds; And, though a late, a sure reward succeeds.”

As I particularly mentioned Colonel Dexter,
from Pequest, in the first volume, it is useless to
describe his character—only to observe, he knew
mankind and all their propensities, from the
cottage to the throne. Mrs. Dexter was a lady in
every sense of the term—polite, easy, and never
engrossed the conversation, even should it be on
her favourite subject. As to religion, she allowed
that many miracles appeared in print! and
had not the smallest doubt of the goodness of
our Creator; and she thought that piety was
commendable in any sect; and recommended all
possible methods to bring hardened sinners to

The old gentleman and lady went to Castle
; they thought it represented the Garden
of Eden
in beauty, and likewise thought there 15(1)r 169
appeared much forbidden fruit. They had no
wish, being so old, to snatch any of it—thought
the grievance was rather singular; and what
took from its beauty was, cash being demanded
at its entrance. Shameful of this rich metropolis,
that would not afford to the sons of science a
relaxation from study, and the daughters of industry
a pleasing moment free from pain and
care, without their purchasing it.

“Shout your trumpets, beat your drum, Never man or woman dun; The garden free must ever be For Lafayette, and you, and me.”

After the visit they proposed to return home,
and requested permission to take little Alphonse,
their grandson, with them, who was five years
old, and very handsome. The old gentleman
said, “He shall not return in haste, as we have
good schools. Horace Fox, our teacher, is a very
scientific man, can tell how many votes it wilwill
take to elect a new president, and how many
acres of land to fill the treasury. He is the village
oracle; all intricate business he adjusts,
and gives great satisfaction to his employers.”

vol. ii 15 15(1)v 15

The old gentleman and lady now seemed perfectly
happy on leaving New-York; they never
wished to see a balloon ascend, a horse race, a
fourth of July procession, a corporation dinner,
nor many other things that were not now in
season, and so were obliged to be dispensed
with. They set out on Tuesday last, with a
particular wish that Miss Josephine would pay
them a visit in a short time, which she acquiesced
in. Mrs. Pettit gave a sigh at parting with her
dearest and nearest friends, next to her husband.
He was now expected from Paris, in the same
ship with the Marquis Lafayette.

The ladies being now alone, they had nothing
to do but to console eath other for the absence of
their friends, which was reciprocally felt. Each
in turn broke out in ejaculations that the most poignant
at times; and then expectancy would buoy
them up beyond expression: as the poet observes
—: “Hope! thou nurse of young desire,Fairy promiser of joy,Painted vapour, glow-worm’s fire,Harmless sweets, that ne’er can cloy.”

15(2)r 171

In this train of reflection, how plasing is the
passion above described! Our hearts and souls
are enraptured, and seem to stand still.

A few weeks having elapsed, who, to the
gratification of the ladies, should arrive, but the
long-expected Lucius, from Ibberville, in charming
spirits, only a little burnt by the rays of the
sun. He approached his lovely fair in silent
gravity—words cannot describe the meeting.
She was all confusion, and Mrs. Pettit all hilarity
—expected it soon to be her own case—
first inquired what wind it was that now blew.
He said it was a perfect calm to him on this day.

“Oh, I understand you,” said she; “you are
always speaking hieroglyphically, according to
your ideas, we must expect a storm.”

He then addressed Miss Claibourne: “I hope,
Miss, that the ills of life which have lately embittered
your peace have not made you forget
to think of him who is ever the same, and always
truly yours.”

15(2)v 172

“I have, it is true, had much sorrow since we
parted, and the cup of affliction was full to overflowing.
I had many unpleasant scenes to encounter,
and had it not been for my fortitude, I
should have desponded. Suddenly a change
took place in my father’s displeasure towards me,
and he freely left to my own discretion any preliminaries
that I might wish to enter into for the
completion of my wishes. I then felt most grateful,
and have ever since acknowledged him to be
the kindest and best of fathers. I then considered
myself as mistress of my own resolves, but
woman-like, knew not what to determine for
my own good, and while in this situation you
have arrived; I must acknowledge that my mind
has not changed; all I hope is, that time will
make us more dear to each other.”

“Let the passing moments fly—let time pass
as though we regarded it not, until it is convenient
to tie the happy knot,”
replied Lucius
Emanuel Mantel

The happy pair now embraced. He took a
little excursion in the steam boat to the Linneau
, in Flushing. She amused herself in finishing 15(3)r 173
her history, and composing a few songs
adapted to the present times. She then wrote
to her father at Acomac, giving him an account
of the arrival of her lover, and particularly requested
his company in the course of a few

On An American Hero.


The dew of the morn, no fragrance exhales

On the laurel that covers the head

Of the sanguine hero, who never bewails

Those now lying number’d with dead.


For Mars, he elates all his followers on,

To bravely their courage pursue,

For a name t’ enrich them for what they have done—

With the perils of war, then adieu.


To virtue, our course, let us all of us bend—

The reflection of goodness is great,

And at our own home, should we meet with a friend,

Good example should ever elate.

15* 15(3)v 174


Our own bosoms swell when the heart we adore,

Approaches to welcome us home,

With cheering good wishes, and nought we want more,

Then the hero will never more roam.


Oh! Anna, the first of God’s blessings to me,

I ne’er shall repeat it again—

I’ve fought and have conquer’d, you plainly can see,

And lamented for those who were slain.


Oh, woman! thy smile every joy doth afford—

Gives comfort, and heals like the miser’s rich hoard,

Doth bliss to the sons of Columbia bestow,

When they return home from conquering the foe.

She also wrote to her friend Mrs. Priscilla
, at Zainesville, giving her a description
of her lover, her determination to make him
happy, and would consider it a favour from
Heaven, as she had lost her mother; and as Mrs.
being such a friend of her’s, she would be
happy if she would come to New-York and witness
the marriage solemnity; the day was not
fixed, but it rested with her to name it, and she
had no doubt but her lover would be very impatient 15(4)r 175
in a short time. She requested an answer
by mail, in the mean time things hould remain
in statu quo.

In the midst of all this preparation, who should
enter but Mr. Pettit from home, to the great satisfaction
of my cousin, who esteems him much.
All that perturbed him, was his little son Alpha’s
living with the old couple; he at first was very
unhappy, but his wife explained to him the necessity
of pleasing the old people, her parents,
and he was immediately reconciled. Nothing
now seemed wanting to the happiness of all persons,
but time; so the several characters retired
to their different occupations.

New-York was now in commotion at the arrival
of the Marquis Lafayette—bells ringing,
music playing, women parading, and old men
gazing at the great event. Miss Josephine’s
room being near the battery, she had a good
view of his landing, and expressed some sorrow
that he was not younger, that he might
be of use to the United States, whose citizens
unanimously admire his character. “He seems,” 15(4)v 176
she said, “to revive in our bosom the memory
of the beloved Washington, who could not be
more venerated; for every heart expands at the
sound of his exalted name—a name which will
never become extinct, while the chariot of the
sun moves in the order it now does!”

On the First Landing of the Marquis
, 1824-08-16Aug. 16, 1824, and His Attendance
at Castle Garden.


The day was clear, the evening mild,

Then lads and lasses met and smil’d;

And this the order of the day—

None must appear who are not gay.


In rich attire, the natives shone

Like brilliant stars, eclips’d by none;

Their bosoms throb’d, you all could see,

For Lafayette and Liberty!


The men were pleas’d, and seem’d to say—

“Now welcome to America!”

Old and young did then agree,

To chaunt his prise with merry glee—

Happy, happy, now are they,

Who see him on this festive day!

15(5)r 177

Oh, ye bright effulgent orbs! witness this day
of our rejoicing, at the sight of him who was a
companion of our great deliverer—who felt for
him in his anxiety, when he could not gratify
his soldiers with every necessary comfort, but
addressed them in soft speeches, promising more
than at that time he could perform! Since his
dissolution, America has fed the hungry and those
who fought her battles, and clothed those of the
naked who were in want, and heaped honours
on their posterity. Could our ancestors only rise
from their graves and see, they would certainly
wish to stay on earth, and roll in chariots which
they never expected, as the reward of their
bravery, and to see it descend to their third and
fourth generation. View the present times, look
into the face of former men, and you cannot but
observe the smiles of contentment—riches brighten
their appearance, and the liberty of which
they have to boast, inflames their hearts with a
continual desire to grow greater. Public edifices
are erected in every part of our city, not only
for religious purposes, but for great and studious
men to harangue and make themselves popular;
and also for reclaiming youth, and pointing out 15(5)v 178
the way to honour, without defrauding any one,
which promises to the rising generation much
real honesty, a matter devoutly to be wished.—
In the hurry and confusion that overspread our
city, the post-man dropped a letter at the door,
and could not wait for the postage. “Goodness!”
I exclaimed, “I would have given a guinea, if I
had no change, provided I had seen the superscription,”
as I knew it to be from my father.
To my great satisfaction it was from him, assuring
me that he would be in New-York in
four weeks.

How I was delighted!—I flew to my friend,
to whom I communicated the glad news. The
next day my lover called, and I showed him the
letter; he was pleased beyond expression, and
handed me a ticket to go to Mr. Keene’s benefit,
which was to take place in a few evenings. Not
many days had elapsed ere I received a letter
from Zainesville from my aunt, who could not
wait on me, as her husband was inclined to the
dropsy and already showed symptoms of it. I
think it would be a public calamity to loose so 15(6)r 179
good a man, and society would no doubt deeply
regret his loss.

In a few weeks more my father arrived in the
steam-boat from Philadelphia, he approached
me with endearing smiles—“You have conquered
your father’s wishes, who had no desire to
part with you. Where is the youth that I must
be allied to?”

“He will be here immediately, as it is now
near visiting hours, and he would not intrude in
any other.”

He then entered the room and was introduced
to the governour, who kindly shook his hand,
while he uttered not a word, as it was usual with
him to be silent until he became acquainted.—
The conversation turned on agriculture—He
mentioned that “the Mississippi was a fine country,
and the soil rich, but not better I presume
than the Ohio; and at Baton Rouge, which is
the first rising ground above New-Orleans, I
have been told there is very rich land.

15(6)v 180

I never was there; but the western country
opens a large field for emigration; the lands are
good—want nothing but industry to make life
comfortable; and the sons of poverty, in every
part of the world, can there have a cheap

The conversation ended, and young Mantel
took leave until evening, when he engaged himself
to return. When he left the house, the
father said, he thought he appeared a promising
youth, and he thought his daughter might be
happy. They all dined together; and after
dinner, the old gentleman said, he had promised a
a fellow traveller to call on him at the City Hotel,
where he mentioned he should stay while in
New-York. He accordingly left the ladies to
their different amusements, and went to the Hotel.
His friend went with him to the Chatham
Garden Theatre
. The play was Love in a Village;
the singing was melodious, and Mr.
distinguished himself.

In the evening, L. E. Mantel waited on
Miss Claibourne, and, being left to themselves, 16(1)r 181
he began the subject nearest his heart.—
“Now, my fair girl, do not delay, through the
modesty of your behaviour, to make known to
me the real feelings of your heart; and when the
happy hour will come that is to make us one.
I am so absorbed in thought I know not what to
say; I have exhausted my rhetoric to gain you,
and now I submit my whole soul to you.”

“Do not, my friend, upbraid me; my temper
is soft, and I am easily persuaded. To-morrow
I will determine. Let me recline on my pillow,
and give my thoughts to determine what is to be
my fate, happiness or misery.”
He agreed, and
they parted.

At breakfast, my father joked me, as he said
he must leave New-York in ten or twelve days.
Good God! what shall I do? This—this is
the important day of my life, and I must determine
good or evil. I have no particular wish to
marry at present, I would rather wait; but two
considerations harrass me,—my father’s wish to
depart, and my lover’s wish to secure me.

vol. ii 16 16(1)v 182

O woman! what mighty events await thy
too sudden decision! Yet I must, and will
determine. So I ran from the table, and prepared
to take a walk to relieve my mind, and
begged my father to dine with us, which he
agreed to. I wandered along the north side
of the town, thinking I should meet some of
my acquaintances, and stopped at the museum
to take a last look at the different curiosities, and
returned to dinner. My father began, as they
were preparing the dishes—“Any thing, my
child, you want, you must suggest to me, and
you shall be gratified.”
tThank you, Sir; females
have many little wants that your sex have
no idea of. We must always appear charming,
always appear pleased, and never ungrateful
if caught in dishabille—that, to a studious female,
is very troublesome. However, Sir, I shall
be as prudent as I can for one of my years.”

In the evening all friends were absent walking,
which I declined, having fixed a resolution
to prepare to meet my lover, and crown his
wishes, by fixing the hour for solemnization
of our marriage. Oh, all feeling minds, who 16(2)r 183
only know my situation at this moment:—To
give up our liberty to man, the first of God’s
images, to promise ever to obey and please him.
Gracious Powers! what a task am I going to
put on my now free will! For in the absence
of my father I do as I please, and the determiminations
of this evening will place me in such
a situation that I must live to please him who
now adores me. Suppose that those charms
which now allure him should vanish, by sickness,
misfortune, disappointment, and all the
changing scenes that this life is embittered with,
what then will be my situation! I know myself
in sunshine and prosperity, my heart is elated,
my countenance beams pleasure. On the contrary,
when afflictions arise, I am as dull as a
stormy day, like those who have no reflection, and
cannot be happy within themselves. However,
I must await my destiny, and assume a placid

While in this soliloquy my friend entered the
dining room, with that composure for which he
was famed, and thus solicited me:—“The few
happy moments that are allotted to man in this 16(2)v 184
short life may, I hope, in my present feelings,
which it is entirely in your power to verify.”

“Happy, Sir, thrice happy must I feel, to be
the means of strewing flowers in the path of him
whose many changing scenes of life have been
embittered by wo.”

“Ah, my friend! could I for a certainty know
how long your present feelings will last, or what
turn of mind will seem to me lasting felicity!”

“This, I allow, is the most important crisis of
my life; and while the wheel (not Ixion’s wheel)
is turning, I will stop it for a moment, and pronounce,
in your hearing, that ten days hence I
will be yours.”

He faltered and spoke, promised every future
action of his life should be to make me happy,
and we cordially took each other’s hands, and
in ecstacy, not to be described, repeated the following
lines from Lalla Rookh:

“And O, if there be an elysium on earth, It is this—it is this—” 16(3)r 185

They parted that evening, not to see each
other in four days, as Lucius was engaged with
a party of gay persons to visit Schooley’s Mountain
. The company were, the Marquis
and his friend, Don Diego Joseph
, and a few politicians of the present
day. There were no ladies of the party. The
Spanish gentleman could not speak a word of
English; Mantel was his interpreter. He was
delighted with the country. He said the Spaniards
had a very imperfect idea of this country;
for his part, he thought it a paradise; the American
women, whose complexions, in general,
are fair, appeared to him as fallen angels. All
he lamented was, he could not express his feelings
towards them, which Mantel was endeavouring
to teach him, for which he was very
grateful. He very humorously said, that the
passion of love, he heard, there was no language
could describe—French, English, Spanish, or
Irish—none could express it—nothing but the
expression of the countenance that was sufficient.
The American lady who had captivated him
was a grand daughter of oan American officer 16* 16(3)v 186
who was killed at Stoney-Point; her name was
Anastasia. She was all that was lovely, in manners,
grace, dignity, sublimity of ideas, and every
requisite to please and so far from having any
knowledge of the charms she was possessed of,
that they escaped her notice.

There were a variety of characters assembled
from the different states; and it did not altogether
appear that the place was frequented purposely
for health, as there were so many inquisitive
characters from all countries—the Jew
and the Greek, the wise and the foolish, rich
and poor—all trying to find some alleviatives for
misery; and many professional gentlemaen, and
many no gentlemen at all, only in dress and
pretensions. One who drew great attention was
a dandy of great pomposity—talked of our benevolence
in aiding the Greeks, our philanthropy
to distressed emigrants from every part of the
world, who speedily amass wealth, if honour
and sobriety, truth and industry, marked their

Four days had now elapsed, and Mantel was 16(4)r 187
expected in New-York, where the preparations
for the nuptials were all finished, and on Thursday
evening, the Rev. Mr. Onderdonk was to
perform the ceremony. The party were to be,
Miss Sybil Clay, bridesmaid, and Dewit Crawford,
groomsman; Miss Quincy Adams, and
young James Jackson, son of the hero of New-
. The marriage articles, drawn up by
Robert Blackstone, Esq. short and explicit,
all technical terms and double meanings abolished.
Nothing was now wanted to complete the
business, but the meeting of the company and
the reading of the ceremony, which the reverend
divine would most cheerfully do, as no part of
their duty adds more dignity to their characters,
and places them first in esteem and veneration.

The lawyer, doctor, divine, sportsman, politician,
banker, broker, all have their hobby;
and ridiculously speaking, every dog has his
day, and every crust and crumb there is he is
ready to snatch; for this life, though short,
must be nourished, if not with turtle soup and
Burton ale; many are content with homminy.
Every country has its favourite dish; England 16(4)v 188
has roast beef and plum pudding; the Americans,
having taken out some of the plums, feed
themselves most daintily, in company with the
commission merchants from every part of the
world, who here can be great indeed, not allowing
the old remark, “Great cry, and little
for they are peaceable indeed; for it is
great wool and very little cry. The Germans
can boast of their abstemiousness; they are
pious, honest people, not eagerly inclined to dip
in the dish with all the great potentates, every content
with their situation, and slowly and surely
gain wealth by the sweat of their brow. The
wise Scotch, ever revising and printing their reviews,
which seem, God help them! to amuse
the ignorant Americans, and to afford to them,
poor pensioners! a comfortable mean of bannocks.
Alas! the Waverlies are dying! and the Americans
are now preparing a grand square, three
miles from New-York, where, if they should
chance to be buried, we will erect no monument
to their memory, As we have no Byrons to
eulogise them, they must calmly sleep, and let
their good name follow them. As the poet
expresses it:

16(5)r 189 “Praises on tombs are trifles vainly spent: A man’s good name is his best monument.”

The brave sons of Erin, for catholic emancipation
have shed their blood; I much fear,
that under the present state of things, an immediate
change will not take place. The American
huge oak, and the people’s high, erect, majestic
form, bends to their nervous arm and lays
prostrate! Singular as it may appear, all the Europeans
disdain that which pleases our proud
station; gladly they all unite to crush the growing
stalk; and bravely, as they call it, prevent
our tree from falling on us—so cut them down,
and then join in procession to establish themselves,
change all order of things, and assume a
power that in time will sink us into oblivion!

The hour at length arrived, and all the happy
company of Miss Josephine attended the nuptials.
She looked divine; her father’s veneraable
appearance excited much respect and attention;
Mr. and Mrs. Pettit appeared quite cheerful;
and Lucius Emanuel Mantel, the intended
bridegroom, wore a face of pleasure and agreeable

16(5)v 190

The company all assembled in Broadway,
near the Battery; the evening was calm and serene,
and Luna’s pale beams invited to pleasure;
a perfect silence prevailed previous to the ceremony,
when all eyes were fixed on Miss Josephine,
whose dress was a white satin pelisse and
petticoat, elegantly decorated with wreathes of
white roses—a fan in her hand, emblematic of
the present time, a small pigmy endeavouring to
erect himself above a large figure, and by his
exertions, had it not been for the light of gas,
he had nearly fallen, to the astonishment of all

The ceremony was short, though very solemn.
Miss Josephine appeared serene and
happy, which afforded pleasurable sensations
to her friends, and the evening was spent in
great hilarity. The company dispersed—some
to the south, and others to the east. The parting
scene between the bride and her father was
interesting. He said as follows:

“As by the laws of God you are now solemnly
chained for life, may your behaviour to each 16(6)r 191
other be decorous and kind, and time will then
not lessen your attachment; this is the first wish
of my heart. Endeavour to be patterns of conjugal
felicity, and may the ever-green bay deck
your brow; and when the storms of life beset
your declining age, may you find comfort in
each other.”

After the ceremony and parade which is customary
on such occasions had passed, the happy
pair contemplated what would be most beneficial
for them to pursue, in order to make life agreeable.
They consulted their friends, who
advised, as they were both literary characters,
to amuse the world with some effusion of their
fancy, and they commenced by beginning the
history of my nephew, which was promised in
the beginning of this book.

The End.