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Page 45
Let me advert to a circumstance connected with this theme, which
cannot but be appreciated by every heart of sensibility. You must have
remarked, Mr. Editor, on summer evenings, and on Sunday afternoons,
certain grave, primitive-looking personages, walking the Battery, in
close confabulation, with their canes behind their backs, and ever and
anon turning a wistful gaze toward the Jersey shore. These, Sir, are the
sons of Saint Nicholas, the genuine Nederlanders; who regard Communipaw
with pious reverence, not merely as the progenitor, but the destined
regenerator, of this great metropolis. Yes, Sir; they are looking with
longing eyes to the green marshes of ancient Pavonia, as did the poor
conquered Spaniards of yore toward the stern mountains of Asturias,
wondering whether the day of deliverance is at hand. Many is the time,
when, in my boyhood, I have walked with my father and his confidential
compeers on the Battery, and listened to their calculations and
conjectures, and observed the points of their sharp cocked hats evermore
turned toward Pavonia. Nay, Sir, I am convinced that at this moment, if
I were to take down the cocked hat of my lamented father from the peg on
which it has hung for years, and were to carry it to the Battery, its
centre point, true as the needle to the pole, would turn to Communipaw.
Mr. Editor, the great historic drama of New-Amsterdam, is but half
acted. The reigns of Walter the Doubter, William the Testy, and Peter
the Headstrong, with the rise, progress, and decline of the Dutch
dynasty, are but so many parts of the main action, the triumphant
catastrophe of which is yet to come. Yes, Sir! the deliverance of
the New-Nederlands from Yankee domination will eclipse the far-famed
redemption of Spain from the Moors, and the oft-sung conquest of Granada
will fade before the chivalrous triumph of New-Amsterdam. Would that
Peter Stuyvesant could rise from his grave to witness that day!
Your humble servant,
ROLOFF VAN RIPPER.
* * * * *
P. S. Just as I had concluded the foregoing epistle, I received a piece
of intelligence, which makes me tremble for the fate of Communipaw.
I fear, Mr. Editor, the grand conspiracy is in danger of being
countermined and counteracted, by those all-pervading and
indefatigable Yankees. Would you think it, Sir! one of them has actually
effected an entry in the place by covered way; or in other words, under
cover of the petticoats. Finding every other mode ineffectual, he
secretly laid siege to a Dutch heiress, who owns a great cabbage-garden
in her own right. Being a smooth-tongued varlet, he easily prevailed on
her to elope with him, and they were privately married at Spank-town!
The first notice the good people of Communipaw had of this awful event,
was a lithographed map of the cabbage garden laid out in town lots, and
advertised for sale! On the night of the wedding, the main weather-cock
of the House of the Four Chimneys was carried away in a whirlwind! The
greatest consternation reigns throughout the village!
* * * * *
A LEGEND OF COMMUNIPAW.
TO THE EDITOR OF THE KNICKERBOCKER MAGAZINE.
Sir: I observed in your last month's periodical, a communication from
a Mr. VANDERDONK, giving some information concerning Communipaw. I
herewith send you, Mr. Editor, a legend connected with that place; and
am much surprised it should have escaped the researches of your very
authentic correspondent, as it relates to an edifice scarcely less fated
than the House of the Four Chimneys. I give you the legend in its crude
and simple state, as I heard it related; it is capable, however, of
being dilated, inflated, and dressed up into very imposing shape and
dimensions. Should any of your ingenious contributors in this line feel
inclined to take it in hand, they will find ample materials, collateral
and illustrative, among the papers of the late Reinier Skaats, many
years since crier of the court, and keeper of the City Hall, in the
city of the Manhattoes; or in the library of that important and utterly
renowned functionary, Mr. Jacob Hays, long time high constable, who,
in the course of his extensive researches, has amassed an amount of
valuable facts, to be rivalled only by that great historical collection,
"The Newgate Calendar."
Your humble servant,
BARENT VAN SCHAICK.
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