No More Learning

This
figure he had long identified in his own mind with the Bjerg-
*mand, who had appeared to him at Father Saxo's grave; and he
doubted not that this mysterious man was also the famous Seer
of the Kohl. He was now about to visit the singular being by
whom he had been menaced both awake and in his dreams; and
all the tales he had ever heard of wizards and enchanters now
revived in his memory. “Not for all the riches in the world
would I go on this errand for any other,” said he to himself.
“Yes, for my Rigmor,” he added; and as he uttered this beloved
name a sudden ray of hope flashed across his soul, and all his
anxiety vanished. "If she yet live,” he burst forth, "may not
this wonderful man be able to relieve my agony? He may tell
me where she is, and what I ought to do. ”
Carl redoubled his speed, and presently stood before a small
strongly secured door in the north side of the tower. He took
his sword, and knocked with the hilt against it. The sound was
echoed in the still night, but it was long before he saw any sign
of the tower being the abode of the living. At length he heard
a hoarse voice from above his head, which seemed to come from
an aperture in the wall. “Who art thou, presumptuous man? ”
croaked forth the voice. “What wouldst thou here, where death
sits on the threshold and hell gapes for its prey ? "
"Open the door, Sir Thord Knudsön; open the door, Sir
Knight,” said Carl. "I am a messenger from King Waldemar
the Victorious. ” "At last, at last,” said the hoarse voice. “Thou
comest late, Carl of Rise: the star is extinguished in the lion's
eye; the name of Waldemar the Victorious and his fortunes have
vanished like a meteor, and dimmed the Northern crown. ”
XIV-500


## p. 7986 (#178) ###########################################

7986
BERNHARD SEVERIN INGEMANN
(
»
« Thou
Open the door, wise master Thord,” said Carl. “I have a
secret message for you from my lord the King, and must speak
with you in private. ”
“When I see the North Star over thine head must I open to
thee,” said the voice: “but if thou wilt hearken to my counsel,
Carl of Risé, hie thee hence: thou art come in an evil hour.
Death stands at thy side, and seeks his prey under my roof. He
asks not if we be old or young"
The hoarse voice was hushed, and Carl presently heard a
shrill female voice apparently in dispute with the old man in the
tower; and after a burst of wild laughter the same voice began
to sing a song, which froze the blood in the veins of the pious
knight. Carl understood only some few fearful words; but the
wild heart-rending tones seemed to come from a despairing and
distracted spirit, bidding defiance to Heaven and the Eternal
Judge. Carl now looked up at the sky, and perceived the North
Star directly over the tower. He seized his sword again, and
knocked with all his might against the door.
"I come, I come,” said the hoarse voice from above.
constrainest me, mighty Star! ”
It was not long ere Carl heard the rattling of bolts and bars,
and the door was opened.
Enter then, presumptuous knight: thy follower hath passed
my threshold; it is now thine own fault if thou come not alive
out of these walls. "
Carl entered the gloomy dwelling with his sword in his hand,
and hastily crossed himself as he beheld the terrific form which,
clad in the black Bjergmand's dress, stood with a lighted horn lan-
tern in his hand on the steps of the tower. He seemed to have
outlived a century of years, and had a long white beard which
descended far below his belt. His face was withered and wrin-
kled and of an earth-gray color, like dusty oak bark.
His eyes
were blear and dim, and his back was bent like a bow. In this
attitude his form appeared almost dwarfish; but could he have
unbent his back, he must have been almost taller than the stately
knight before him. His long arms reached nearly to the ground;
he wore on his head a round leather hat without a brim. His
leathern apron reached nearly to his feet; and at the thong
by which it was tied round the waist, hung a small unlighted
lantern. In his right hand he held a crutch or staff which was
thickly inscribed with runic letters and unknown characters.
-


## p. 7987 (#179) ###########################################

BERNHARD SEVERIN INGEMANN
7987
(
>
“Follow me,” said the Bjergmand, beginning to ascend the
narrow winding stair. Carl followed him with a beating heart.
After mounting sixty steps they stopped before a door; the Bjerg-
mand pushed it open with his staff, and they entered a spacious
vaulted chamber, paneled with wood, and having four large
shutters placed opposite the four points of the compass. The
chamber was in other respects fitted up almost precisely like the
observatory at Sæbygaard. There was a fireplace, before which
were many singularly shaped vessels and empty flasks; some large
metal pipes near the shutters; and in the middle of the floor a
large chair before a stone table, on which lay a heap of singed
parchments inscribed with red letters. The old man seated him-
self quietly in his chair without seeming to notice his guest, and
held a large polished lens up to his dim eyes, while he turned
over the papers and drew the iron lamp nearer.
Carl did not venture to disturb him, but occupied himself in
the mean time in observing the objects around. A large heap of
stones and raw metal which lay on the hearth seemed to indi-
cate that the old man did not wear his Bjergmand's habit in
vain: but Carl's eye rested not long on the shining treasure; he
turned from them to look for the woman whose shrill voice and
wild song had just before filled him with horror. At length he
observed a recess in the paneling; and peering forth from it, a
deadly pale and wrinkled female face, propped upon two shrunken
arms and half hidden by black tangled locks, with flashing eyes
and an insane smile.
Carl involuntarily stepped back a few paces; but instantly
recovered himself, and contemplated with deep interest the traces
of beauty and feminine grace which still lingered on that un-
happy countenance, and which the more he examined the more
he seemed to identify with the features of the once beautiful
Lady Helena. "It is she! ” said he to himself, looking at her
with heartfelt compassion. She nodded to him with a ghastly
smile, while a tear trickled down her furrowed cheek; but she
neither altered her posture nor uttered a word. She seemed from
time to time to cast a timid and anxious glance at the old
Bjergmand, but presently again fixed her gleaming eyes on the
knight; and her keen despairing look filled him with the same
horror which her piercing tones had before awakened.
At last the Bjergmand rose and took up the lantern which
stood at his feet. He made a sign to Carl to follow him, and
opened a secret door in the wall, which discovered a stair leading


## p. 7988 (#180) ###########################################

7988
BERNHARD SEVERIN INGEMANN
apparently to the top of the tower. As Carl quitted the chamber
he cast a glance towards the recess, and saw such an expression
of frantic joy on the countenance of the unhappy Helena, that he
breathed more freely when his long-armed conductor shut the
door, and drew a massy iron bolt on the outside.
When they had mounted a few steps, Carl heard the sound of
shrill laughter below, and the same fearful song which had before
horrified him. The old man seemed not to heed it, but calmly
ascended the stair, which wound narrower and narrower toward
the top. At last they stood on the top of the tower, on a narrow
open platform without a railing, with the bright starry heavens
above their heads, and on almost every side within two steps of
the dizzy abyss beneath; for the tower was perched on the sum-
mit of the rock, and seemed to rise with it in a perpendicular
line above the sea. A mist came over Carl's eyes, and he was
forced to lean on his sword to prevent himself from falling over
the precipice. He endeavored to overcome his dizziness by fixing
his eyes steadily on his companion. The Seer unbent his back,
rose to a great height before the eyes of Carl, and looked on
him with a wild and threatening aspect. «Here we are alone,”
said he, looking fixedly on the knight. «Here am I the strong-
est, however old I may be. Tell me here, between the heaven
and yon abyss, what wouldst thou know ? »
Carl summoned up all his strength, and was prepared to
defend his life to the last, and contest the platform with the
dark giant the instant he approached too near with his long
arms; but the Seer stirred not, and seemed desirous to give him
time for recollection. Carl then called to mind his King's behest,
and forgot his own dangerous position. He leaned yet more
heavily on his sword, and asked whether the Seer knew what
his sovereign was thinking of, the day he fell into a revery with
his foot in the stirrup; and if he did, what he said thereto?
The old man was silent, and contemplated the heavens for a
considerable time. His dim eyes at last lighted up with singular
fire, and he half spoke, half chanted:
« Thy Liege and Sovereign thought upon
The fate his children would befall,
When he himself was dead and gone!
Then tell him this for truth: They all
Shall civil strife and carnage see;
But each at last shall crowned be! »


## p. 7989 (#181) ###########################################

BERNHARD SEVERIN INGEMANN
7989
>>
Carl treasured up every word in his memory which concerned
the welfare of his King and country, without being able however
to comprehend how this answer could console the King, for it
seemed to him rather to contain an evil prophecy.
Wouldst thou know more ? ) asked the Seer.
« Make haste,
then, for an evil star is above our heads. "
Alas! Rigmor, Rigmor,” said Carl with a sigh; and inquired
of the old man in his own name if he knew where his wife was,
and if he could tell him (without having recourse to any sinful
arts) whether he should ever again behold her in this world.
“Goest thou hence alive," muttered the old man, thou wilt
soon know where she is; but if love be not mightier than hate
thou wilt know it to thy cost.
Carl pondered over these mysterious words, and tried to find
comfort in them for the disquietude of his heart. The old man
was about to say more, but at this moment a piercing shriek was
heard within the tower, and the Seer turned pale. “The lamp! ”
he shouted; “make way: » and he rushed down to the winding
stairs, pushing Carl aside with such force that he lost his bal-
ance on the platform and fell with his head resting on the edge
of the tower. Carl looked down upon the unfathomable abyss
beneath; but fortunately was able to recover himself and creep
back on his hands and knees to the staircase, and in a moment
overtook the old man. When the secret door was thrown open
a bright flame burst forth; the panels and shutters were burn-
ing, and a faded female form was seated on the stone table
amidst the smoldering papers, shouting and singing as she
watched the progress of the flames. Carl seized her in his arms,
and rushed with her through fire and smoke down to the last
flight of stairs; while the old man thought only of rescuing his
papers and instruments from the Alames. Carl reached the last
step of the stair, succeeded in drawing the bolt from the door,
and made his escape from the tower without sustaining any
injury; but the unhappy Lady Helena lay scorched and half dead
in his arms.
“”
"Waldemar, Waldemar! ” she groaned. "Thou hast cost me
my soul's salvation. ”
Carl laid her on the ground, and would have endeavored to
rescue, if possible, the unfortunate Seer: but he saw with horror
that the flames now burst forth from every side of the tower,
and that the old man was standing on the platform with a bun-
dle of burning papers, which he scattered around him on the


## p. 7990 (#182) ###########################################

7990
BERNHARD SEVERIN INGEMANN
air, while he muttered incantations and wielded his staff as if he
thought he could control the flames; but they presently reached
him: he plunged in desperation into the burning tower and dis-
appeared.
“Burn, burn, thou black Satan! I burn already,” cried the
dying Helena
“I shall no more disturb the peace of King
Waldemar till Doomsday. I am the Queen of the Black Seer.
I must plunge with him into the gulf. Ha! the millstone, the
millstone! it will hang around my neck to all eternity. Where
are now thy queens, Waldemar? alas! Dagmar, Dagmar, pray
for me: proud Beengièrd strangles me with her bloody kerchief. ”
After uttering these broken and fearful sentences, the miserable
Helena wrung her hands in agony and expired. Carl uttered a
hasty prayer, then looked up at the burning tower; the flame
had shot over its summit, and a black forin was thrown down at
his feet. It was the unhappy Seer, whose corse lay crushed and
burned among the stones.
MORNING SONG
T"
WHEY'RE gazing at each other, the flowers fair and small,
The blithesome birds unto their mates are talking;
Now open wide their eyes earth's children all;
And, house on back, the snail goes walking.
The tiniest worm is minded by God the maker here;
He feeds the birds and decks the lily flower:
But children holds he dearest of the dear;
On weeping eyes God's blessings shower.
God's Son was once a little one, on manger straw he lay,
His cradle here on earth stood, fashioned meanly;
God promises the children heavenly play
And blooms in meadows queenly.
God's Son holds us so dear, great child-friend is his name:
He bears the bairns to God, his arms supporting:
Though conquering sea and sky what time he came,
Babes at his breast were sporting:
O Thou who blessest us and didst caress the small,
Some morn in Paradise we shall behold thee;
Thou raisest up our eyes to God,- let all
Praises and prayers enfold thee!
Translated for (A Library of the World's Best Literature) by Richard Burton.


## p. 7990 (#183) ###########################################



## p. 7990 (#184) ###########################################


WASHINGTON IRVING,


## p. 7990 (#185) ###########################################

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## p. 7990 (#186) ###########################################



## p. 7991 (#187) ###########################################

7991
WASHINGTON IRVING
(1783-1859)
BY EDWIN W. MORSE
0 WASHINGTON IRVING belongs the title of the Founder of
American Literature. Born while the British troops were
still in possession of his native city, New York, and over-
taken by death a year before Abraham Lincoln was elected President
of the United States, he represents a span of life from Revolutionary
days to a period well remembered by men now of middle age. Be-
fore his day American literature was theological and political, — the
outgrowth of the great questions of Church and State which the
settlement of the colonies and the rupture with the mother country
gave rise to. The only considerable venture in belles-lettres had been
made by Charles Brockden Brown, whose romances published in the
turn of the century were highly praised in their day, but are now
unread.
Irving loved literature for its own sake, and not as a means to the
attainment of some social, moral, or political end; and this trait differ-
entiates him sharply from his predecessors. When he began to write,
the field of letters was unoccupied. His first book had been published
eight years when Bryant's 'Thanatopsis appeared in the North Amer-
ican Review; and it was three years later before Cooper's first novel,
Precaution, was published. His position in American literature is
thus unique, and will always remain so.
The qualities which were most characteristic of his work were sen-
timent and humor; and these acquired a high literary value through
the graceful, varied, and finished form in which they were cast. The
source of the keen literary sense that revealed itself in him in early
life, and that was highly developed even before he attained his
majority, is not easily traced. It was however a powerful impulse,
and persisted in shaping his character and in controlling his destiny,
despite his half-hearted efforts to acquire a taste for the law, and later
for commercial pursuits. To its influence moreover is attributable
his aloofness from the political and other public life of his time,
which seems somewhat singular in a man of his imaginative, emo-
tional temperament, when one remembers the stormy period in which
his youth and early manhood were passed. When he was beguiled


## p. 7992 (#188) ###########################################

7992
WASHINGTON IRVING
(
-
against his inclination to take some part in local politics, he spent
the first day, true to his real nature, in hunting for “whim, character,
and absurdity” in the crowd in which he found himself. From this
early time onward, whatever was eccentric or strongly individual in
human nature had a remarkable fascination for his alert, observing
mind. Apparently however the politics of the day did not yield
the material that he sought, nor were the associations of political
life agreeable to one of his fastidious tastes. For after a brief experi-
ence he writes: “Truly this saving one's country is a nauseous piece
of business; and if patriotism is such a dirty virtue — prythee, no
more of it. ” This sentiment had its spring in no lack of loyalty to
his country, but rather in his physical repugnance to the unwashed
political “workers” of his day and to familiar intercourse with them.
Irving's detachment from the public affairs of his time was fur-
ther illustrated in a somewhat amusing manner during his first visit
to Europe. When he reached France, Napoleon's conquest of Italy
and his assumption of the title of Emperor were on every tongue.
Contemporary greatness, however, which subsequent events were to
bring to a much more striking perspective than was within the scope
of his vision at this time, had no attraction for the young American
traveler. His sole anxiety was to see, not Napoleon, but the tomb
of Laura at Avignon; and great was his disappointment to find that
the monument had been destroyed in the Revolution. Never,” he
breaks out, « did the Revolution and its authors and its consequences
receive a more hearty and sincere execration than at that moment.
Throughout the whole of my journey I had found reason to exclaim
against it, for depriving me of some valuable curiosity or celebrated
monument; but this was the severest disappointment it had yet
occasioned. ” This purely literary view of the greatest event of
modern times is significant of Irving's attitude of mind towards the
political and social forces which were changing the boundaries of
kingdoms and revolutionizing society. He had reached his majority;
but the literary associations of the Old World were of infinitely
more moment to him than the overthrow of kings and the warrings
of nations.
A partial, but only a partial, explanation of this literary sense
which young Irving possessed can be found in his ancestry. It did
not, one may be sure, come from the side of his father, who was a
worthy Scotchman of good family, a native of one of the Orkney
Islands. William Irving had passed his life on or near the sea, and
was a petty officer on an armed packet when he met in Falmouth
the girl who was to become his wife and the author's mother. Mrs.
Irving was a woman of much beauty and of a lovely disposition, and
she exerted a great influence upon the character of the son. The


## p. 7993 (#189) ###########################################

WASHINGTON IRVING
7993
(
desire to wander far afield which pursued Irving through a large part
of his life may also be traced, it seems to me, to the parent stock,
which must have been saturated with the adventurous spirit of a
seafaring life. This impulse made itself felt when Irving was very
young; for in the account which the author of the (Sketch Book)
gives of himself, he admits that he began his travels when a mere
child, and made many tours of discovery into foreign parts and
unknown regions of his native city, to the frequent alarm of his
parents and the emolument of the town crier. ” As Irving was born
on April 3d, 1783, his parents having been residents of New York for
about twenty years, we may believe that these youthful escapades
took place when the boy was perhaps six or eight years old; say a
year or two after Washington began his first term as President. The
lad possessed from an early age, in addition to this roving tendency,
a romantic, emotional, imaginative temperament, which invested with
a special interest for him every spot in or near his native town that
had become celebrated through fable or by a tragedy in real life.
The New York through which the lad, brimful of gay spirits and
of boundless curiosity, wandered, was a town devoted exclusively to
commerce, of fewer than twenty-five thousand inhabitants.
It was
confined within narrow limits. An excursion from the Irving home
in William Street, about half-way between Fulton and John Streets,
to what is now Chambers Street, must have brought the venturesome
youth into the fields and among country houses. The educational
facilities of the town were meagre, and young Irving had little taste
for study. Rather than go to school, he preferred to loiter around
the wharves and dream of the far distant lands whence the ships with
their odorous cargoes had come; while in the evening he would steal
away to the theatre in company with a companion of about his own
age, James K. Paulding, with whom some years later he was to make
his first literary venture. He liked to read books of voyages and
romances, like "Robinson Crusoe) and (Sindbad,' much better than
the Pilgrim's Progress, which his father, then a deacon in the
Presbyterian church, gave him for his Sunday perusal. Two of his
brothers — he was the youngest of a family of eight boys — had been
sent to Columbia College, but Washington was not a student. Text-
books were repugnant to him; and lacking the faculty of application
and concentration, he never made inuch headway with routine studies,
although he acquired a little knowledge of Latin in addition to the
ordinary branches of learning. He was “a saunterer and a dreamer,"
did not like to study, and had no ambition to go to college.
As the years were slipping by, and as it was plainly necessary for
him to prepare himself for some work in life, young Irving entered
a law office. But the dry routine of reading law proved to be very
(


## p. 7994 (#190) ###########################################

7994
WASHINGTON IRVING
distasteful to him, and he soon drifted into general literature, in the
reading of which he atoned in large part for the deficiencies of his
early schooling. His indolence was partly due to temperament, and
partly no doubt to physical causes. For his health was not robust.
A weakness of the lungs showed itself, and gave him a good excuse
to get away from books and into the open air, and to indulge his
liking for travel and exploration. He had already wandered, gun in
hand, along the shores of the Hudson and through the woods of West-
chester County, becoming well acquainted with the natural beauties
of the Sleepy Hollow country, which he was later to people with
legendary figures.
He had also made a voyage up the Hudson, and
had journeyed through the valley of the Mohawk. The pulmonary
trouble which made it necessary for him to take a more extended
outing made itself felt while he was dawdling over his law-books in
the office of Josiah Ogden Hoffman; and in the next two years — this
was between 1802 and 1804 — he made several adventurous journeys
to the north, going so far on one occasion as Montreal.
It was during this period of Irving's life, when he was approaching
his majority, that another important aspect of his character - the
social, which was to influence his entire career and to leave its color
indelibly stamped upon his writings — made itself apparent. From an
early age the social instinct was strong in him. As he grew older he
developed “a boundless capacity for good-fellowship,” as one of his
contemporaries testifies. This liking for his fellow-man had for its
foundation a warm-hearted, sympathetic, generous nature, a rich vein
of humor, perfect ease of manner and great readiness as a talker, and
an optimistic philosophy of life. These amiable traits made him
many friends in the towns which he visited outside of New York in
this period of his life, and throw a flood of light upon the warm
friendships which he made in England and elsewhere in later years.
It is easy to believe that these qualities of mind and heart were due
in large part to the influence of his mother, the gentleness and sweet-
ness of whose nature must have had a deep effect upon the impres.
sionable son. And to the same tender influence is probably due the
devotion, almost idolatrous, which Irving showed both in his writings
and in his social relations throughout his life to womankind. By
temperament extremely susceptible to the attractions of the sex, he
was always their ardent admirer and chivalric defender. The untimely
death of the girl whom we may well believe to have been the em-
bodiment of his loftiest ideals, the second daughter of the Mr. Hoff-
man under whom he had read law, imparted a tinge of melancholy
to his emotional temperament, and remained with him as a sad
memory throughout his life. This overwhelming disappointment, and
the necessity which arose some years later that he should assume the


## p. 7995 (#191) ###########################################

WASHINGTON IRVING
7995
responsibility of supporting his brothers, made marriage an impossi-
bility for him.
This tragedy, however, had not overshadowed his life when in 1804
Irving made his first journey to Europe, in search of the health which
he had not been able to find in northern New York and in Canada.
He had just passed his twenty-first birthday; and despite his poor
health, he was all eagerness to see the famous places which his read-
ing had made familiar to his lively imagination. The reality exceeded
his anticipations. His health was restored by the voyage, and he
gave himself up to sight-seeing and to making friends. He loitered
here and there: in Italy, where he met Allston, who nearly persuaded
him to become a painter; in Paris, where he frequented the theatres;
and in London, where he saw John Kemble and Mrs. Siddons. He
studied little but observed much, gathering materials perhaps sub-
consciously from the associations historic and legendary connected
with this old and infinitely rich civilization, to be worked later into
delightful stories and sketches. He was forming his taste too on the
best models, and was thus laying a broad foundation for his literary
career, although he had as yet written nothing.
After two enjoyable years abroad, Irving returned in 1806 to
New York, and soon began to feel his way into the world of letters
through the pages of Salmagundi, a periodical which he wrote in
conjunction with the friend of his youth, James K. Paulding. These
papers on society and its “whim-whams,” or fads as we should say,
have only a slight interest to-day as a reflection of the manners of
the time; but to Irving's contemporaries the vivacity and spirit with
which they were written, and the thread of humor which ran through
them, were sources of much entertainment and amusement. With the
Knickerbocker History of New York,' however,— which was pub-
lished in 1809, the year in which Madison succeeded Jefferson to the
Presidency,– Irving acquired wide-spread celebrity. This book was
the first real piece of literature which America had produced, and it
served to introduce its author into a still wider and more influential
circle of friends in the literary and art world when he made his
second visit to England in 1815. His constitutional indolence, his
distrust of his capacity, and the distractions of society, interfered to
prevent him, after his first success, from accepting literature as his
vocation. Finally he entered into the business which his brothers
had been carrying on with indifferent results, although his distaste for
commercial affairs was unconcealed. At last the necessity arose that
he should go to England, in order if possible to place the affairs of
the firm — the Irvings were importers of hardware — on a sounder
basis. The fortunate — no other word in view of the event seems
so appropriate — failure of the firm, a few years after his arrival in


## p. 7996 (#192) ###########################################

7996
WASHINGTON IRVING
England, compelled him to cast about in search of some means of
repairing the broken fortunes of the family; and he naturally turned
again to letters.
This decision was the turning-point in Irving's career. He forth-
with began the preparation of the several numbers of the “Sketch
Book'; the popularity of which, when they were published in 1819
and 1820, decided him to make literature his life work. The financial
returns from these ventures were more than he had dreamed of, and
with the offers which poured in upon him from English publishers,
gave him a feeling of independence and security for the future.
From this time on he produced books with rapidity. Bracebridge
Hall' and the “Tales of a Traveller' appeared in 1822 and in 1824
respectively. A residence of several years in Spain resulted in the
production of the Life of Columbus) (1828), the Conquest of Gra-
nada' (1829), and the Alhambra) tales and sketches. On his return
to the United States in 1832, after an absence of seventeen years, he
was welcomed at a public dinner at which his praises were sung in
every key. He had won from England respect for American liter-
ature, and no honors were too great for his fellow-countrymen to
bestow upon him.
In the ten years between 1832 and 1842 Irving bought and devel-
oped the property on the east bank of the Hudson, north of Tarry-
town and overlooking the Tappan Zee, to which he gave the name
of Sunnyside. He traveled some in the far West, and published A
Tour on the Prairies' (1835), (Astoria (1836), and the Adventures of
Captain Bonneville) (1837). For the four years from 1842 to 1846 he
was United States Minister to Spain; a post for which he was espe-
cially well fitted, and to which he was appointed as a sort of national
recognition of his services to the cause of letters. While he was in
Madrid he was planning and arranging the material for the early
volumes of his Life of Washington'; the first volume of which did
not appear, however, until 1855. His Life of Goldsmith' was pub-
lished in 1849, Mahomet and his Successors in the winter of the
same year, Wolfert's Roost' in 1854, and the fifth and final volume
of his 'Washington' only a short time before his death at Sunnyside
on November 28th, 1859.
Irving's literary activity thus extended over exactly half a century.
The books which he published in that period fall naturally into
four groups, each of which reflects his explorations, observations,
and meditations in some special field. The first of these groups is
made up of the experimental Salmagundi papers, the Knickerbocker
“History, the (Sketch Book,' Bracebridge Hall,' and Tales of a
Traveller'; all of which were published while the author was between
twenty-six and forty-one years of age. They were the fruit of his


## p. 7997 (#193) ###########################################

WASHINGTON IRVING
7997
interest, first in the Dutch history and legends that gave a quaint
charm to Old New York, and to the customs and manners of the
early settlers in the valley of the Hudson; and second in the roman-
tic and picturesque aspects of foreign life which had stirred his
fancy and imagination during his two sojourns abroad. Although
they were not published in book form until many years later, the
sketches and tales gathered under the title of Wolfert's Roost' be-
long to the same time and to the same group. The second group
consists of the volumes which were the outgrowth of Irving's resi-
dence in Spain, and of his admiration for the daring and adventurous
life of the early Spanish voyagers, and for the splendid story, so
brilliant with Oriental pageantry and with barbaric color, of the
Moorish invasion and occupancy of Spain. The third group includes
the three books in which Irving pictured with a vivid realism, with
an accurate knowledge, and with a narrative style that gave to two
at least of these volumes the fascination of romance, the perils and
hardships which the explorers, fur-traders, hunters, and trappers of
the Northwest endured in the early years of the present century.
Finally, the last group embraces the historical and biographical works
of the author's last years.
Of all these books, the one that is the boldest in conception and
that shows the most virility is the first one that Irving published, -
the Knickerbocker History of New York. ' Born of an audacity that
is the privilege of youth, this History' was the product of a mind
untrammeled by literary traditions, and bent only upon giving the
freest play to its fanciful idea of the grotesquely humorous possibili-
ties of the Dutch character and temperament when confronted with
problems of State. In freshness, vigor, and buoyancy the narrative is
without a parallel in our literature. It is literally saturated with the
spirit of broad comedy, the effect of which is immeasurably height-
ened by the air of historical gravity with which the narrative is pre-
sented. The character studies are full of individuality, and are drawn
with a mock seriousness and with a minuteness that give them all
the qualities of actual historical portraits; while the incidents are
pictured with a vividness that invests them with an atmosphere of
reality, from the influence of which the sympathetic reader escapes
with difficulty. I know of no piece of broad, sustained humor in
English or in American literature which is the equal of the narrative
of the capture of Fort Casimir,-- an episode in the description of
which the Homeric manner is adopted with grandiloquent effect. A
phrase may be found here and there in the book which is out of
harmony with the taste of our day; but ninety years make con-
siderable difference in such matters, and all must admit that these
seventeenth-century touches are not unnatural in a youth whose early
(


## p. 7998 (#194) ###########################################

7998
WASHINGTON IRVING
reading had carried him in many directions in search of the novel
and eccentric in life and letters. Taken as a whole the book is
a masterpiece, revealing a limitless fund of humor, a shrewd knowl-
edge of human nature, and a deep love of mankind, and governed
throughout by a fine sense of the literary possibilities and limitations
of historical burlesque.
In any book which might be made up of Irving's legends of the
Hudson, and of his stories on other American themes, the precedence
would be given without protest from any quarter, I think, to the
tender, pathetic, sweetly humorous story of Rip Van Winkle. The
change of style that one perceives in these stories and in the tales
of Spanish, French, and English life, as compared with that in the
Knickerbocker History,' is marked. If there is a loss of youthful
vigor and enthusiasm, there is a decided gain in grace of form, in
simplicity, in delicacy and tenderness of feeling, and in refinement of
humor. These are the qualities which give a permanent value to
writing and make it literature. They suffuse (Rip Van Winkle' and
the Legend of Sleepy Hollow) with an undying charm, and lift these
legends to a higher plane than that occupied by the Knickerbocker
(History. ' In them Irving gave the fullest and freest play to his
artistic nature. The tales from over seas in this first group of
his books reflect the "charms of storied and poetical association »
which his active fancy pictured when he escaped from the common-
place realities of the present,” and lost himself among the shadowy
grandeurs of the past. ” He brought too an appreciative mind to the
contemplation of the quiet beauty of English country life.
It was
always, however, the human element in the scene that was of inter-
est to him; and this, I think, is one of the principal reasons why
so much of his work has retained its vitality through three-quarters
of a century.
It is not surprising — to take up the second group of Irving's
books — that a man of his poetic temperament found Spain "a coun-
try where the most miserable inn is as full of adventure as
enchanted castle. ” It was the historical associations, however, which
especially appealed to him, and to the inspiration of which we are
indebted for some of his most brilliant pages. The glories of old
Spain in the days of the Moslem invader and in the reign of Ferdi-
nand and Isabella, when the adventurous spirit of the Spanish sailors
was at its height, and when great enterprises inflamed men's minds
with the lust for conquest and power and riches, - these were the
themes that kindled his sympathetic imagination. To these influences
was due the Life of Columbus,' - which may seem somewhat anti-
quated in form to a generation accustomed to the modern style of
biography, but which is nevertheless a very solid piece of historical
an


## p. 7999 (#195) ###########################################

WASHINGTON IRVING
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writing, calm, clear, judicious, and trustworthy,- together with the
collection of legends and historical narratives growing out of the
Moorish conquest. In the Conquest of Granada' and in the Alham-
bra' tales, Irving's style, affected no doubt by the variety and rich-
ness of the color of the scenes which he is depicting, is a little
lacking at times in the fine reticence which distinguishes his best
work; but the fact remains that his picture of this chapter of Spanish
history was of such a character as to discourage any successor from
attempting to deal with the same topic.
Two of the three books descriptive of the wild life of the North-
west, Astoria and the Adventures of Captain Bonneville,' were
based upon documents placed at Irving's disposal by John Jacob
Astor, supplemented by oral narratives, and by the author's recollec-
tions of his own experiences during the journey which he made on
the prairies after his second return from Europe. In addition to the
deep interest attaching to the tragic story of the suffering and dan-
gers encountered by the overland party which Mr. Astor dispatched
to establish a fur-trading post at the mouth of the Columbia River,
the Astoria' is filled with graphic character sketches of the hardy
adventurers who gathered in those days at the frontier settlements,
– men of varied nationalities and of eccentric and picturesque indi-
vidualities, all of whom are as actual in Irving's pages as if they had
been studied from the life. It may be nothing more than a fancy,
but I like to think that this incursion into the trackless regions of
the Northwest, in company with the primitive types of the explorer,
the hunter, and the trapper, reflects a natural reaction of Irving's
mind after so long a sojourn in the highly cultivated society of
Europe, and a yearning on his part to find rest and refreshment by
getting as close as possible in his work to Mother Nature.
Of the three biographies which were the last product of his pen,
the Life of Goldsmith is noteworthy as having more of the charm of
his earlier manner than the others have. He was in peculiar sym-
pathy with the subject of this volume, and told the story of his life
with an insight which no later biographer has brought to the task.
The Mahomet and his Successors) is an honest, straightforward,
conscientious piece of work, but did not add anything to the author's
reputation. He expended an enormous amount of time and labor on
the Life of Washington, but the work was too large and too exact-
ing for a man of his age to undertake. There are passages in it
that for incisiveness of characterization and for finish of form are the
equal of anything that he produced in the days when his intellectual
vigor was unimpaired; but the reader cannot escape the feeling that
the author's grasp of the materials relating to the subject was feeble,
and that his heart was not in his work. It dragged terribly, he tells


## p. 8000 (#196) ###########################################

8000
WASHINGTON IRVING
us, in the writing; and it drags too in the reading. Nor does it seem
likely that even if the task had been undertaken twenty years earlier,
the theme would have been altogether a congenial one. Washington,
in the perspective from which Irving viewed him, and one must
remember that the lad was six years old when Washington took the
oath of office as President, and may have witnessed that ceremony
almost from his father's doorstep,— was a very real man who had
solved a very real problem. There was no atmosphere surrounding
him that corresponded to the romantic glamour which transfigured
the personality of Columbus, or to the literary associations which
were linked with Goldsmith's name; and Irving required some such
stimulus to the imagination in order to enable him to do his best
work.
Irving, finally, was the first American man of letters whose writ-
ings contained the vital spark. No one would venture to say that he
possessed a creative imagination of the highest order, such as Haw-
thorne for example was gifted with. The tragedy of life, the more
strenuous problems that arise to torment mankind, had no attraction
for him. But he had nevertheless imagination of a rare sort, and the
creative faculty was his also. Were this not so, his books would
have been forgotten long ago. Neither his play of fancy, nor his
delicious sense of humor, nor the singular felicity of his style, could
have saved his writings from oblivion if he had not possessed, in
addition to these qualities, a profound knowledge of the romance and
comedy of life, and the power, which is vouchsafed to few, to sur-
round his characters and his scenes with some of the mellow glow of
his own sweet and gentle spirit.
Edwin W. Morse,
ار
THE GOOD OLD DAYS OF KNICKERBOCKER LIFE
From A History of New York: By Diedrich Knickerbocker)
He houses of the higher class were generally constructed of
T
and yellow Dutch bricks, and always faced on the street, -
as our ancestors, like their descendants, were very much given to
outward show, and were noted for putting the best leg foremost.
The house was always furnished with abundance of large doors
and small windows on every floor; the date of its erection was
curiously designated by iron figures on the front; and on the top


## p. 8001 (#197) ###########################################

WASHINGTON IRVING
8001
of the roof was perched a fierce little weathercock, to let the
family into the important secret which way the wind blew.
These, like the weathercocks on the tops of our steeples, pointed
so many different ways that every man could have a wind to his
mind; the most stanch and loyal citizens, however, always went
according to the weathercock on the top of the governor's house,
which was certainly the most correct, as he had a trusty servant
employed every morning to climb up and set it to the right
quarter.
In those good days of simplicity and sunshine, a passion for
cleanliness was the leading principle in domestic economy, and
the universal test of an able housewife, - a character which formed
the utmost ambition of our unenlightened grandmothers. The
front door was never opened except on marriages, funerals, New
Year's days, the festival of St. Nicholas, or some such great
occasion. It was ornamented with a gorgeous brass knocker
curiously wrought, sometimes in the device of a dog and some-
times of a lion's head, and was daily burnished with such reli-
gious zeal that it was ofttimes worn out by the very precautions
taken for its preservation. The whole house was constantly in a
state of inundation, under the discipline of mops and brooms and
scrubbing-brushes; and the good housewives of those days were
a kind of amphibious animal, delighting exceedingly to be dab-
bling in water: insomuch that a historian of the day gravely tells
us that many of his townswomen grew to have webbed fingers
like unto a duck; and some of them, he had little doubt, could
the matter be examined into, would be found to have the tails of
mermaids — but this I look upon to be a mere sport of fancy, or
what is worse, a willful misrepresentation.
The grand parlor was the sanctum sanctorum, where the pas-
sion for cleaning was indulged without control. In this sacred
apartment no one was permitted to enter excepting the mistress
and her confidential maid, who visited it once a week for the
purpose of giving it a thorough cleaning and putting things to
rights,- always taking the precaution of leaving their shoes at
the door, and entering devoutly in their stocking feet. After
scrubbing the floor, sprinkling it with fine white sand, which was
curiously stroked into angles and curves and rhomboids with a
broom,- after washing the windows, rubbing and polishing the
furniture, and putting a new bunch of evergreens in the fire-
place,- the window shutters were again closed to keep out the
YIV-501


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8002
WASHINGTON IRVING
flies, and the room carefully locked up until the revolution of
time brought round the weekly cleaning-day.
As to the family, they always entered in at the gate, and
most generally lived in the kitchen. To have seen a numerous
household assembled around the fire, one would have imagined
that he was transported back to those happy days of primeval
simplicity which float before our imaginations like golden visions.
The fireplaces were of a truly patriarchal magnitude, where the
whole family, old and young, master and servant, black and
white, - nay, even the very cat and dog,- enjoyed a community
of privilege, and had each a right to a corner. Here the old
burgher would sit in perfect silence, puffing his pipe, looking in
the fire with half-shut eyes, and thinking of nothing, for hours
together; the goede vrouw on the opposite side would employ
herself diligently in spinning yarn or knitting stockings. The
young folks would crowd around the hearth, listening with breath-
less attention to some old crone of a negro, who was the oracle
of the family, and who, perched like a raven in a corner of the
chimney, would croak forth for a long winter afternoon a string
of incredible stories about New England witches, grisly ghosts,
horses without heads, and hairbreadth escapes and bloody en-
counters among the Indians.
In those happy days a well-regulated family always rose with
the dawn, dined at eleven, and went to bed at sundown. Din-
ner was invariably a private meal, and the fat old burghers
showed incontestable symptoms of disapprobation and uneasiness
at being surprised by a visit from a neighbor on such occasions.
But though our worthy ancestors were thus singularly averse to
giving dinners, yet they kept up the social bands of intimacy by
occasional banquetings, called tea parties.
These fashionable parties were generally confined to the
higher classes or noblesse; that is to say, such as kept their own
cows and drove their own wagons. The company commonly
assembled at three o'clock and went away about six, unless it
was in winter-time, when the fashionable hours were
earlier, that the ladies might get home before dark. The tea-
table was crowned with a huge earthen dish, well stored with
slices of fat pork fried brown, cut up into morsels and swimming
in gravy. The company, being seated around the genial board
and each furnished with a fork, evinced their dexterity in launch-
ing at the fattest pieces in this mighty dish; in much the same
a little


## p. 8003 (#199) ###########################################

WASHINGTON IRVING
8003
manner as sailors harpoon porpoises at sea, or our Indians spear
salmon in the lakes. Sometimes the table was graced with im-
mense apple pies, or saucers full of preserved peaches and pears;
but it was always sure to boast an enormous dish of balls of
sweetened dough, fried in hog's fat, and called doughnuts or
olykoeks,-a delicious kind of cake, at present scarce known in
this city excepting in genuine Dutch families.
The tea was served out of a majestic delft teapot, ornamented
with paintings of fat little Dutch shepherds and shepherdesses
tending pigs, with boats sailing in the air, and houses built in
the clouds, and sundry other ingenious Dutch fantasies. The
beaux distinguished themselves by their adroitness in replenish-
ing this pot from a huge copper tea-kettle, which would have
made the pigmy macaronies of these degenerate days sweat
merely to look at it. To sweeten the beverage, a lump of sugar
was laid beside each cup: and the company alternately nibbled
and sipped with great decorum, until an improvement was intro-
duced by a shrewd and economic old lady, which was to suspend
a large lump directly over the tea-table by a string from the
ceiling, so that it could be swung from mouth to mouth; an
ingenious expedient which is still kept up by some families in
Albany, but which prevails without exception in Communipaw,
Bergen, Flatbush, and all our uncontaminated Dutch villages.
At these primitive tea parties the utmost propriety and dig-
nity of deportment prevailed. No flirting nor coquetting, no
.
gambling of old ladies nor hoyden chattering and romping of
young ones, no self-satisfied struttings of wealthy gentlemen with
their brains in their pockets, nor amusing conceits and monkey
divertisements of smart young gentlemen with no brains at all.
On the contrary, the young ladies seated themselves demurely
in their rush-bottomed chairs, and knit their own woolen stock-
ings; nor ever opened their lips excepting to say Yah Mynheer,
or Yah yah Vrouw, to any question that was asked them: behay-
ing in all things like decent, well-educated damsels. As to the
gentlemen, each of them tranquilly smoked his pipe, and seemed
lost in contemplation of the blue and white tiles with which the
fireplaces were decorated, wherein sundry passages of Scripture
were piously portrayed. Tobit and his dog figured to great ad-
vantage; Haman swung conspicuously on his gibbet; and Jonah
appeared most manfully bouncing out of the whale, like Harle-
quin through a barrel of fire.


## p. 8004 (#200) ###########################################

8004
WASHINGTON IRVING
The parties broke up without noise and without confusion.
They were carried home by their own carriages; that is to say,
by the vehicles Nature had provided them, excepting such of the
wealthy as could afford to keep a wagon. The gentlemen gal-
.
lantly attended their fair ones to their respective abodes, and took
leave of them with a hearty smack at the door; which, as it was
an established piece of etiquette, done in perfect simplicity and
honesty of heart, occasioned no scandal at that time, nor should
it at the present. If our great-grandfathers approved of the cus-
tom, it would argue a great want of reverence in their descend-
ants to say a word against it.
In this dulcet period of my history, when the beauteous island
of Manna-hata presented a scene the very counterpart of those
glowing pictures drawn of the golden reign of Saturn, there
was, as I have before observed, a happy ignorance, an honest sim-
plicity, prevalent among its inhabitants, which were I even able
to depict, would be but little understood by the degenerate age
for which I am doomed to write.
Even the female sex, those arch innovators upon the tranquil-
lity, the honesty and gray-beard customs of society, seemed for a
while to conduct themselves with incredible sobriety and come-
liness. Their hair, untortured by the abominations of art, was
scrupulously pomatumed back from their foreheads with a candle,
and covered with a little cap of quilted calico, which fitted exactly
to their heads. Their petticoats of linsey-Woolsey were striped
with a variety of gorgeous dyes—though I must confess these
gallant garments were rather short, scarce reaching below the
knee: but then they made up in the number, which generally
equaled that of the gentlemen's small-clothes; and what is still
more praiseworthy, they were all of their own manufacture-of
which circumstance, as may well be supposed, they were not a
little vain.
These were the honest days in which every woman stayed at
home, read the Bible, and wore pockets — ay, and that too of a
goodly size, fashioned with patchwork into many curious devices,
and ostentatiously worn on the outside. These in fact were con-
venient receptacles, where all good housewives carefully stowed
away such things as they wished to have at hand - by which
means they often came to be incredibly crammed: and I remem-
ber there was a story current when I was a boy, that the lady of


## p. 8005 (#201) ###########################################

WASHINGTON IRVING
8005
.
Wouter Van Twiller once had occasion to empty her right pocket
in search of a wooden ladle, and the utensil was discovered lying
among some rubbish in one corner; but we must not give too
much faith to all these stories, the anecdotes of those remote
periods being very subject to exaggeration.
Besides these notable pockets, they likewise wore scissors and
pin-cushions suspended from their girdles by red ribands, or
among the more opulent and showy classes, by brass and even
silver chains,- indubitable tokens of thrifty housewives and indus-
trious spinsters. I cannot say much in vindication of the short-
ness of the petticoats: it doubtless was introduced for the purpose
of giving the stockings a chance to be seen, which were gener-
ally of blue worsted, with magnificent red clocks - or perhaps to
display a well-turned ankle, and a neat though serviceable foot,
set off by a high-heeled leathern shoe, with a large and splendid
silver buckle. Thus we find that the gentle sex in all ages have
shown the same disposition to infringe a little upon the laws of
decorum, in order to betray a lurking beauty or gratify an inno-
cent love of finery.
From the sketch here given, it will be seen that our good
grandmothers differed considerably in their ideas of a fine figure
from their scantily dressed descendants of the present day. A A
fine lady in those times waddled under more clothes, even on a
fair summer's day, than would have clad the whole bevy of a
modern ball-room. Nor were they the less admired by the gen-
tlemen in consequence thereof. On the contrary, the greatness of
a lover's passion seemed to increase in proportion to the magni-
tude of its object; and a voluminous damsel arrayed in a dozen of
petticoats was declared by a Low Dutch sonneteer of the prov-
ince to be radiant as a sunflower, and luxuriant as a full-blown
cabbage. Certain it is, that in those days the heart of a lover
could not contain more than one lady at a time; whereas the
heart of a modern gallant has often room enough to accommodate
half a dozen. The reason of which I conclude to be, that either
the hearts of the gentlemen have grown larger, or the persons of
the ladies smaller; this, however, is a question for physiologists
to determine.
But there was a secret charm in these petticoats, which no
doubt entered into the consideration of the prudent gallants.
The wardrobe of a lady was in those days her only fortune; and
she who had a good stock of petticoats and stockings was as


## p. 8006 (#202) ###########################################

8006
WASHINGTON IRVING
absolutely an heiress as is a Kamtschatka damsel with a store
of bearskins, or a Lapland belle with a plenty of reindeer. The
ladies therefore were very anxious to display these powerful
attractions to the greatest advantage; and the best rooms in the
house, instead of being adorned with caricatures of Dame Nature
in water-colors and needlework, were always hung round with
abundance of homespun garments, the manufacture and the prop-
erty of the females,- a piece of laudable ostentation that still
prevails among the heiresses of our Dutch villages.
The gentlemen, in fact, who figured in the circles of the gay
world in these ancient times, corresponded in most particulars
with the beauteous damsels whose smiles they were ambitious
to deserve. True it is, their merits would make but a very
inconsiderable impression upon the heart of a modern fair: they
neither drove their curricles nor sported their tandems, for as yet
those gaudy vehicles were not even dreamt of; neither did they
distinguish themselves by their brilliancy at the table and their
consequent rencontres with watchmen, for our forefathers were
of too pacific a disposition to need those guardians of the night,
every soul throughout the town being sound asleep before nine
o'clock.
Neither did they establish their claims to gentility at
the expense of their tailors, for as yet those offenders against the
pockets of society and the tranquillity of all aspiring young gen-
tlemen were unknown in New Amsterdam: every good housewife
made the clothes of her husband and family, and even the goede
vrouw of Van Twiller himself thought it no disparagement to cut
out her husband's linsey-woolsey galligaskins.
Not but what there were some two or three youngsters who
manifested the first dawnings of what is called fire and spirit;
who held all labor in contempt; skulked about docks and market-
places; loitered in the sunshine; squandered what little money
they could procure at hustle-cap and chuck-farthing; swore, boxed,
fought cocks, and raced their neighbors' horses,- in short, who
promised to be the wonder, the talk, and abomination of the
town, had not their stylish career been unfortunately cut short by
an affair of honor with a whipping-post.
Far other, however, was the truly fashionable gentleman of
those days. His dress, which served for both morning and even-
ing, street and drawing-room, was a linsey-Woolsey coat, made
perhaps by the fair hands of the mistress of his affections, and
gallantly bedecked with abundance of large brass buttons; half


## p. 8007 (#203) ###########################################

WASHINGTON IRVING
8007
a score of breeches heightened the proportions of his figure, his
shoes were decorated by enormous copper buckles, a low-crowned,
broad-brimmed hat overshadowed his burly visage, and his hair
dangled down his back in a prodigious queue of eelskin.
Thus equipped, he would manfully sally forth with pipe in
mouth to besiege some fair damsel's obdurate heart: not such a
pipe, good reader, as that which Acis did sweetly tune in praise
of his Galatea, but one of true Delft manufacture, and furnished
with a charge of fragrant tobacco. With this would he resolutely
set himself down before the fortress; and rarely failed in the
process of time to smoke the fair enemy into a surrender, upon
honorable terms.
Such was the happy reign of Wouter Van Twiller, celebrated
in many a long-forgotten song as the real golden age, the rest
being nothing but counterfeit copper-washed coin. In that de-
lightful period a sweet and holy calm reigned over the whole
province. The burgomaster smoked his pipe in peace; the sub-
stantial solace of his domestic cares, after her daily toils were
done, sat soberly at the door with her arms crossed over her
apron of snowy white, without being insulted by ribald street-
walkers or vagabond boys, - those unlucky urchins who do so
infest our streets, displaying under the roses of youth the thorns
and briers of iniquity. Then it was that the lover with ten
breeches, and the damsel with petticoats of half a score, indulged
in all the innocent endearments of virtuous love, without fear
and without reproach; for what had that virtue to fear which was
defended by a shield of good linsey-woolseys, equal at least to
the seven bull-hides of the invincible Ajax ?
Ah! blissful and never-to-be-forgotten age! when everything
was better than it has ever been since, or ever will be again:
when Buttermilk Channel was quite dry at low water; when the
shad in the Hudson were all salmon; and when the moon shone
with a pure and resplendent whiteness, instead of that melan-
choly yellow light which is the consequence of her sickening at
the abominations she every night witnesses in this degenerate
city!
Happy would it have been for New Amsterdam, could it
always have existed in this state of blissful ignorance and lowly
simplicity; but alas! the days of childhood are too sweet to last!
Cities, like men, grow out of them in time, and are doomed alike
to grow into the bustle, the cares, and miseries of the world. Let


## p. 8008 (#204) ###########################################

8008
WASHINGTON IRVING
no man congratulate himself when he beholds the child of his
bosom or the city of his birth increasing in magnitude and im-
portance: let the history of his own life teach him the dangers
of the one, and this excellent little history of Manna-hata con-
vince him of the calamities of the other.
THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW
FOUND AMONG THE PAPERS OF THE LATE DIEDRICH KNICKERBOCKER
From The Sketch Book)
A pleasing land of drowsihead it was,
Of dreams that wave before the half-shut eye;
And of gay castles in the clouds that pass,
For ever Aushing round a summer sky.
– CASTLE OF INDOLENCE.
I
N THE bosom of one of those spacious coves which indent the
eastern shore of the Hudson, at that broad expansion of the
river denominated by the ancient Dutch navigators the Tap-
paan Zee, and where they always prudently shortened sail and
implored the protection of St. Nicholas when they crossed, there
lies a small market town or rural port which by some is called
Greensburgh, but which is more generally and properly known
by the name of Tarry Town. This name was given it, we are
told, in former days, by the good housewives of the adjacent
country, from the inveterate propensity of their husbands to linger
about the village tavern on market days. Be that as it may, I
do not vouch for the fact, but merely advert to it for the sake
of being precise and authentic. Not far from this village, per-
haps about three miles, there is a little valley or rather lap of
land among high hills, which is one of the quietest places in the
whole world. A small brook glides through it with just murmur
enough to lull one to re se; and the occasional whistle of a
quail or tapping of a woodpecker is almost the only sound that
ever breaks in upon the uniform tranquillity.
I recollect that when a stripling, my first exploit in squirrel-
shooting was in a grove of tall walnut-trees that shades one
side of the valley. I had wandered into it at noontime, when
all nature is peculiarly quiet, and was startled by the roar of
my own gun as it broke the Sabbath stillness around, and was


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WASHINGTON IRVING
8009
prolonged and reverberated by the angry echoes. If ever I
should wish for a retreat whither I might steal from the world
and its distractions, and dream quietly away the remnant of a
troubled life, I know of none more promising than this little
valley.
From the listless repose of the place, and the peculiar char-
acter of its inhabitants, who are descendants from the original
Dutch settlers, this sequestered glen has long been known by the
name of Sleepy Hollow, and its rustic lads are called the Sleepy
Hollow Boys throughout all the neighboring country. A drowsy,
dreamy influence seems to hang over the land, and to pervade
the very atmosphere. Some say that the place was bewitched by
a High German doctor during the early days of the settlement;
others that an old Indian chief, the prophet or wizard of his
tribe, held his powwows there before the country was discovered
by Master Hendrick Hudson. Certain it is that the place still
continues under the sway of some witching power that holds a
spell over the minds of the good people, causing them to walk
in a continual revery. They are given to all kinds of marvelous
beliefs; are subject to trances and visions, and frequently see
strange sights and hear music and voices in the air.