Washington Irving by Charles Dudley Warner

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"But now the combat thickened. On came the mighty Jacobus Varra
Vanger and the fighting-men of the Wallabout; after them thundered
the Van Pelts of Esopus, together with the Van Rippers and the Van
Brunts, bearing down all before them; then the Suy Dams, and the
Van Dams, pressing forward with many a blustering oath, at the head
of the warriors of Hell-gate, clad in their thunder-and-lightning
gaberdines; and lastly, the standard-bearers and body-guard of
Peter Stuyvesant, bearing the great beaver of the Manhattoes.

"And now commenced the horrid din, the desperate struggle, the
maddening ferocity, the frantic desperation, the confusion and
self-abandonment of war. Dutchman and Swede commingled, tugged,
panted, and blowed. The heavens were darkened with a tempest of
missives. Bang! went the guns; whack! went the broad-swords; thump!
went the cudgels; crash! went the musket-stocks; blows, kicks,
cuffs, scratches, black eyes and bloody noses swelling the horrors
of the scene! Thick thwack, cut and hack, helter-skelter,
higgledy-piggledy, hurly-burly, head-over-heels, rough-and-tumble!
Dunder and blixum! swore the Dutchmen; splitter and splutter! cried
the Swedes. Storm the works! shouted Hardkoppig Peter. Fire the
mine! roared stout Risingh. Tanta-rar-ra-ra! twanged the trumpet of
Antony Van Corlear;--until all voice and sound became
unintelligible,--grunts of pain, yells of fury, and shouts of
triumph mingling in one hideous clamor. The earth shook as if
struck with a paralytic stroke; trees shrunk aghast, and withered
at the sight; rocks burrowed in the ground like rabbits; and even
Christina Creek turned from its course and ran up a hill in
breathless terror!

"Long hung the contest doubtful; for though a heavy shower of rain,
sent by the "cloud-compelling Jove," in some measure cooled their
ardor, as doth a bucket of water thrown on a group of fighting
mastiffs, yet did they but pause for a moment, to return with
tenfold fury to the charge. Just at this juncture a vast and dense
column of smoke was seen slowly rolling toward the scene of battle.
The combatants paused for a moment, gazing in mute astonishment,
until the wind, dispelling the murky cloud, revealed the flaunting
banner of Michael Paw, the Patroon of Communipaw. That valiant
chieftain came fearlessly on at the head of a phalanx of oyster-fed
Pavonians and a _corps de reserve_ of the Van Arsdales and Van
Bummels, who had remained behind to digest the enormous dinner they
had eaten. These now trudged manfully forward, smoking their pipes
with outrageous vigor, so as to raise the awful cloud that has been
mentioned, but marching exceedingly slow, being short of leg, and
of great rotundity in the belt.

"And now the deities who watched over the fortunes of the
Nederlanders having unthinkingly left the field, and stepped into a
neighboring tavern to refresh themselves with a pot of beer, a
direful catastrophe had wellnigh ensued. Scarce had the myrmidons
of Michael Paw attained the front of battle, when the Swedes,
instructed by the cunning Risingh, leveled a shower of blows full
at their tobacco-pipes. Astounded at this assault, and dismayed at
the havoc of their pipes, these ponderous warriors gave way, and
like a drove of frightened elephants broke through the ranks of
their own army. The little Hoppers were borne down in the surge;
the sacred banner emblazoned with the gigantic oyster of Communipaw
was trampled in the dirt; on blundered and thundered the
heavy-sterned fugitives, the Swedes pressing on their rear and
applying their feet _a parte poste_ of the Van Arsdales and the Van
Bummels with a vigor that prodigiously accelerated their movements;
nor did the renowned Michael Paw himself fail to receive divers
grievous and dishonorable visitations of shoe-leather.

"But what, oh Muse! was the rage of Peter Stuyvesant, when from
afar he saw his army giving way! In the transports of his wrath he
sent forth a roar, enough to shake the very hills. The men of the
Manhattoes plucked up new courage at the sound, or, rather, they
rallied at the voice of their leader, of whom they stood more in
awe than of all the Swedes in Christendom. Without waiting for
their aid, the daring Peter dashed, sword in hand, into the
thickest of the foe. Then might be seen achievements worthy of the
days of the giants. Wherever he went the enemy shrank before him;
the Swedes fled to right and left, or were driven, like dogs, into
their own ditch; but as he pushed forward, singly with headlong
courage, the foe closed behind and hung upon his rear. One aimed a
blow full at his heart; but the protecting power which watches over
the great and good turned aside the hostile blade and directed it
to a side-pocket, where reposed an enormous iron tobacco-box,
endowed, like the shield of Achilles, with supernatural powers,
doubtless from bearing the portrait of the blessed St. Nicholas.
Peter Stuyvesant turned like an angry bear upon the foe, and
seizing him, as he fled, by an immeasurable queue, 'Ah, whoreson
caterpillar,' roared he, 'here's what shall make worms' meat of
thee!' so saying he whirled his sword and dealt a blow that would
have decapitated the varlet, but that the pitying steel struck
short and shaved the queue forever from his crown. At this moment
an arquebusier leveled his piece from a neighboring mound, with
deadly aim; but the watchful Minerva, who had just stopped to tie
up her garter, seeing the peril of her favorite hero, sent old
Boreas with his bellows, who, as the match descended to the pan,
gave a blast that blew the priming from the touch-hole.

"Thus waged the fight, when the stout Risingh, surveying the field
from the top of a little ravelin, perceived his troops banged,
beaten, and kicked by the invincible Peter. Drawing his falchion,
and uttering a thousand anathemas, he strode down to the scene of
combat with some such thundering strides as Jupiter is said by
Hesiod to have taken when he strode down the spheres to hurl his
thunder-bolts at the Titans.

"When the rival heroes came face to face, each made a prodigious
start in the style of a veteran stage-champion. Then did they
regard each other for a moment with the bitter aspect of two
furious ram-cats on the point of a clapper-clawing. Then did they
throw themselves into one attitude, then into another, striking
their swords on the ground, first on the right side, then on the
left: at last at it they went with incredible ferocity. Words
cannot tell the prodigies of strength and valor displayed in this
direful encounter,--an encounter compared to which the far-famed
battles of Ajax with Hector, of AEneas with Turnus, Orlando with
Rodomont, Guy of Warwick with Colbrand the Dane, or of that
renowned Welsh knight, Sir Owen of the Mountains, with the giant
Guylon, were all gentle sports and holiday recreations. At length
the valiant Peter, watching his opportunity, aimed a blow enough to
cleave his adversary to the very chine; but Risingh, nimbly raising
his sword, warded it off so narrowly, that, glancing on one side,
it shaved away a huge canteen in which he carried his
liquor,--thence pursuing its trenchant course, it severed off a
deep coat-pocket, stored with bread and cheese,--which provant,
rolling among the armies, occasioned a fearful scrambling between
the Swedes and Dutchmen, and made the general battle to wax more
furious than ever.

"Enraged to see his military stores laid waste, the stout Risingh,
collecting all his forces, aimed a mighty blow full at the hero's
crest. In vain did his fierce little cocked hat oppose its course.
The biting steel clove through the stubborn ram beaver, and would
have cracked the crown of any one not endowed with supernatural
hardness of head; but the brittle weapon shivered in pieces on the
skull of Hardkoppig Piet, shedding a thousand sparks, like beams of
glory, round his grizzly visage.

"The good Peter reeled with the blow, and turning up his eyes
beheld a thousand suns, besides moons and stars, dancing about the
firmament; at length, missing his footing, by reason of his wooden
leg, down he came on his seat of honor with a crash which shook the
surrounding hills, and might have wrecked his frame, had he not
been received into a cushion softer than velvet, which Providence,
or Minerva, or St. Nicholas, or some cow, had benevolently prepared
for his reception.

"The furious Risingh, in despite of the maxim, cherished by all
true knights, that 'fair play is a jewel,' hastened to take
advantage of the hero's fall; but, as he stooped to give a fatal
blow, Peter Stuyvesant dealt him a thwack over the sconce with his
wooden leg, which set a chime of bells ringing triple bob-majors in
his cerebellum. The bewildered Swede staggered with the blow, and
the wary Peter seizing a pocket-pistol, which lay hard by,
discharged it full at the head of the reeling Risingh. Let not my
reader mistake; it was not a murderous weapon loaded with powder
and ball, but a little sturdy stone pottle charged to the muzzle
with a double dram of true Dutch courage, which the knowing Antony
Van Corlear carried about him by way of replenishing his valor, and
which had dropped from his wallet during his furious encounter with
the drummer. The hideous weapon sang through the air, and true to
its course as was the fragment of a rock discharged at Hector by
bully Ajax, encountered the head of the gigantic Swede with
matchless violence.

"This heaven-directed blow decided the battle. The ponderous
pericranium of General Jan Risingh sank upon his breast; his knees
tottered under him; a deathlike torpor seized upon his frame, and
he tumbled to the earth with such violence that old Pluto started
with affright, lest he should have broken through the roof of his
infernal palace.

"His fall was the signal of defeat and victory: the Swedes gave
way, the Dutch pressed forward; the former took to their heels, the
latter hotly pursued. Some entered with them, pell-mell, through
the sally-port; others stormed the bastion, and others scrambled
over the curtain. Thus in a little while the fortress of Fort
Christina, which, like another Troy, had stood a siege of full ten
hours, was carried by assault, without the loss of a single man on
either side. Victory, in the likeness of a gigantic ox-fly, sat
perched upon the cocked hat of the gallant Stuyvesant; and it was
declared by all the writers whom he hired to write the history of
his expedition that on this memorable day he gained a sufficient
quantity of glory to immortalize a dozen of the greatest heroes in
Christendom!"

In the "Sketch-Book," Irving set a kind of fashion in narrative essays,
in brief stories of mingled humor and pathos, which was followed for
half a century. He himself worked the same vein in "Bracebridge Hall,"
and "Tales of a Traveller." And there is no doubt that some of the most
fascinating of the minor sketches of Charles Dickens, such as the story
of the Bagman's Uncle, are lineal descendants of, if they were not
suggested by, Irving's "Adventure of My Uncle," and the "Bold Dragoon."

The taste for the leisurely description and reminiscent essay of the
"Sketch-Book" does not characterize the readers of this generation, and
we have discovered that the pathos of its elaborated scenes is somewhat
"literary." The sketches of "Little Britain," and "Westminster Abbey,"
and, indeed, that of "Stratford-on-Avon," will for a long time retain
their place in selections of "good reading;" but the "Sketch-Book" is
only floated, as an original work, by two papers, the "Rip Van Winkle"
and the "Legend of Sleepy Hollow;" that is to say by the use of the
Dutch material, and the elaboration of the "Knickerbocker Legend," which
was the great achievement of Irving's life. This was broadened and
deepened and illustrated by the several stories of the "Money Diggers,"
of "Wolfert Webber" and "Kidd the Pirate," in "The Tales of a
Traveller," and by "Dolph Heyliger" in "Bracebridge Hall." Irving was
never more successful than in painting the Dutch manners and habits of
the early time, and he returned again and again to the task until he not
only made the shores of the Hudson and the islands of New York harbor
and the East River classic ground, but until his conception of Dutch
life in the New World had assumed historical solidity and become a
tradition of the highest poetic value. If in the multiplicity of books
and the change of taste the bulk of Irving's works shall go out of
print, a volume made up of his Knickerbocker history and the legends
relating to the region of New York and the Hudson would survive as long
as anything that has been produced in this country.

The philosophical student of the origin of New World society may find
food for reflection in the "materiality" of the basis of the
civilization of New York. The picture of abundance and of enjoyment of
animal life is perhaps not overdrawn in Irving's sketch of the home of
the Van Tassels, in "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow." It is all the extract
we can make room for from that careful study:--

"Among the musical disciples who assembled, one evening in each
week, to receive his instructions in psalmody, was Katrina Van
Tassel, the daughter and only child of a substantial Dutch farmer.
She was a blooming lass of fresh eighteen; plump as a partridge;
ripe and melting and rosy-cheeked as one of her father's peaches,
and universally famed, not merely for her beauty, but her vast
expectations. She was, withal, a little of a coquette, as might be
perceived even in her dress, which was a mixture of ancient and
modern fashions, as most suited to set off her charms. She wore the
ornaments of pure yellow gold which her great-great-grandmother had
brought over from Saardam; the tempting stomacher of the olden
time; and withal a provokingly short petticoat, to display the
prettiest foot and ankle in the country round.

"Ichabod Crane had a soft and foolish heart towards the sex; and it
is not to be wondered at that so tempting a morsel soon found favor
in his eyes, more especially after he had visited her in her
paternal mansion. Old Baltus Van Tassel was a perfect picture of a
thriving, contented, liberal-hearted farmer. He seldom, it is true,
sent either his eyes or his thoughts beyond the boundaries of his
own farm; but within those everything was snug, happy, and
well-conditioned. He was satisfied with his wealth, but not proud
of it; and piqued himself upon the hearty abundance rather than the
style in which he lived. His stronghold was situated on the banks
of the Hudson, in one of those green, sheltered, fertile nooks in
which the Dutch farmers are so fond of nestling. A great elm-tree
spread its broad branches over it, at the foot of which bubbled up
a spring of the softest and sweetest water, in a little well,
formed of a barrel, and then stole sparkling away through the grass
to a neighboring brook, that bubbled along among alders and dwarf
willows. Hard by the farm-house was a vast barn, that might have
served for a church, every window and crevice of which seemed
bursting forth with the treasures of the farm. The flail was busily
resounding within it from morning till night; swallows and martins
skimmed twittering about the eaves; and rows of pigeons, some with
one eye turned up, as if watching the weather, some with their
heads under their wings, or buried in their bosoms, and others
swelling and cooing and bowing about their dames, were enjoying the
sunshine on the roof. Sleek, unwieldy porkers were grunting in the
repose and abundance of their pens, whence sallied forth, now and
then, troops of sucking pigs, as if to snuff the air. A stately
squadron of snowy geese were riding in an adjoining pond, convoying
whole fleets of ducks; regiments of turkeys were gobbling through
the farm-yard, and guinea fowls fretting about it, like
ill-tempered housewives, with their peevish, discontented cry.
Before the barn door strutted the gallant cock, that pattern of a
husband, a warrior, and a fine gentleman, clapping his burnished
wings, and crowing in the pride and gladness of his
heart--sometimes tearing up the earth with his feet, and then
generously calling his ever-hungry family of wives and children to
enjoy the rich morsel which he had discovered.

"The pedagogue's mouth watered as he looked upon this sumptuous
promise of luxurious winter fare. In his devouring mind's eye he
pictured to himself every roasting-pig running about with a pudding
in his belly, and an apple in his mouth; the pigeons were snugly
put to bed in a comfortable pie, and tucked in with a coverlet of
crust; the geese were swimming in their own gravy, and the ducks
pairing cosily in dishes, like snug married couples, with a decent
competency of onion-sauce. In the porkers he saw carved out the
future sleek side of bacon, and juicy relishing ham; not a turkey
but he beheld daintily trussed up, with its gizzard under its wing,
and, peradventure, a necklace of savory sausages; and even bright
chanticleer himself lay sprawling on his back, in a side-dish, with
uplifted claws, as if craving that quarter which his chivalrous
spirit disdained to ask while living.

"As the enraptured Ichabod fancied all this, and as he rolled his
great green eyes over the fat meadow-lands, the rich fields of
wheat, of rye, of buckwheat, and Indian corn, and the orchard
burdened with ruddy fruit, which surrounded the warm tenement of
Van Tassel, his heart yearned after the damsel who was to inherit
these domains, and his imagination expanded with the idea how they
might be readily turned into cash, and the money invested in
immense tracts of wild land and shingle palaces in the wilderness.
Nay, his busy fancy already realized his hopes, and presented to
him the blooming Katrina, with a whole family of children, mounted
on the top of a wagon loaded with household trumpery, with pots and
kettles dangling beneath; and he beheld himself bestriding a pacing
mare, with a colt at her heels, setting out for Kentucky,
Tennessee, or the Lord knows where.

"When he entered the house, the conquest of his heart was complete.
It was one of those spacious farm-houses, with high-ridged, but
lowly-sloping roofs, built in the style handed down from the first
Dutch settlers; the low projecting eaves forming a piazza along the
front, capable of being closed up in bad weather. Under this were
hung flails, harness, various utensils of husbandry, and nets for
fishing in the neighboring river. Benches were built along the
sides for summer use; and a great spinning-wheel at one end, and a
churn at the other, showed the various uses to which this important
porch might be devoted. From this piazza the wondering Ichabod
entered the hall, which formed the centre of the mansion and the
place of usual residence. Here, rows of resplendent pewter, ranged
on a long dresser, dazzled his eyes. In one corner stood a huge bag
of wool ready to be spun; in another a quantity of linsey-woolsey
just from the loom; ears of Indian corn, and strings of dried
apples and peaches, hung in gay festoons along the walls, mingled
with the gaud of red peppers; and a door left ajar gave him a peep
into the best parlor, where the claw-footed chairs and dark
mahogany tables shone like mirrors; and irons, with their
accompanying shovel and tongs, glistened from their covert of
asparagus tops; mock-oranges and conch-shells decorated the
mantelpiece; strings of various colored birds' eggs were suspended
above it; a great ostrich egg was hung from the centre of the room,
and a corner cupboard, knowingly left open, displayed immense
treasures of old silver and well-mended china."

It is an abrupt transition from these homely scenes, which humor
commends to our liking, to the chivalrous pageant unrolled for us in the
"Conquest of Granada." The former are more characteristic and the more
enduring of Irving's writings, but as a literary artist his genius lent
itself just as readily to Oriental and mediaeval romance as to the
Knickerbocker legend; and there is no doubt that the delicate perception
he had of chivalric achievements gave a refined tone to his mock
heroics, which greatly heightened their effect. It may almost be claimed
that Irving did for Granada and the Alhambra what he did, in a totally
different way, for New York and its vicinity.

The first passage I take from the "Conquest" is the description of the
advent at Cordova of the Lord Scales, Earl of Rivers, who was brother of
the queen of Henry VII., a soldier who had fought at Bosworth field, and
now volunteered to aid Ferdinand and Isabella in the extermination of
the Saracens. The description is put into the mouth of Fray Antonio
Agapida, a fictitious chronicler invented by Irving, an unfortunate
intervention which gives to the whole book an air of unveracity:--

"'This cavalier [he observes] was from the far island of England,
and brought with him a train of his vassals; men who had been
hardened in certain civil wars which raged in their country. They
were a comely race of men, but too fair and fresh for warriors, not
having the sunburnt, warlike hue of our old Castilian soldiery.
They were huge feeders also, and deep carousers, and could not
accommodate themselves to the sober diet of our troops, but must
fain eat and drink after the manner of their own country. They were
often noisy and unruly, also, in their wassail; and their quarter
of the camp was prone to be a scene of loud revel and sudden brawl.
They were, withal, of great pride, yet it was not like our
inflammable Spanish pride: they stood not much upon the _pundonor_,
the high punctilio, and rarely drew the stiletto in their disputes;
but their pride was silent and contumelious. Though from a remote
and somewhat barbarous island, they believed themselves the most
perfect men upon earth, and magnified their chieftain, the Lord
Scales, beyond the greatest of their grandees. With all this, it
must be said of them that they were marvelous good men in the
field, dexterous archers, and powerful with the battle-axe. In
their great pride and self-will, they always sought to press in the
advance and take the post of danger, trying to outvie our Spanish
chivalry. They did not rush on fiercely to the fight, nor make a
brilliant onset like the Moorish and Spanish troops, but they went
into the fight deliberately, and persisted obstinately, and were
slow to find out when they were beaten. Withal they were much
esteemed yet little liked by our soldiery, who considered them
staunch companions in the field, yet coveted but little fellowship
with them in the camp.

"'Their commander, the Lord Scales, was an accomplished cavalier,
of gracious and noble presence and fair speech; it was a marvel to
see so much courtesy in a knight brought up so far from our
Castilian court. He was much honored by the king and queen, and
found great favor with the fair dames about the court, who indeed
are rather prone to be pleased with foreign cavaliers. He went
always in costly state, attended by pages and esquires, and
accompanied by noble young cavaliers of his country, who had
enrolled themselves under his banner, to learn the gentle exercise
of arms. In all pageants and festivals, the eyes of the populace
were attracted by the singular bearing and rich array of the
English earl and his train, who prided themselves in always
appearing in the garb and manner of their country--and were indeed
something very magnificent delectable, and strange to behold.'

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