: a º ********* º's ſae & s & § º § sº & ſº ： ºſ xºº; £ §§§§: ¿??¿? && ſ.¿¿.* §::::::::::::: · *g. ſaepſiſ №ºº &=&=& $$$$$$$ <！-- ſae?！！ ، ، ، ، ، ، ،s！ ：） & = &** ; ： ， ， ， ， , :::：::：：：=≡≡ā ∞-… ~ ~ ~ ！， º， º -*-*- * -ºº-º- *- * P R O P E R T Y OF THE Q |//ſºft'ſ t! | /*. * ... Sº . 3 -º/ - ſ 7/// Aſ 77. 4. | 8 || 7 --" f/ ‘, A R J B S S C ; F : T i A V E R i T A S L--"T"------- | T H E W OR KS WASHINGTON IRVING, THE SATETCH B O OK.—THE ALAIAMB RA.—THE HISTORY OF THE CCN:20EST OF (; RAAWADA.—ZFG ENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPA/AW.—TALES OF A TRA VAZZZAZA’.—A AV/CATE/e B O CKE/ø'S AN/STOA' | OF AME VV YO/CA.—SA/LAZA G UAVZ)/. A LIFE OF WASHINGTON IRVING, RICHARD HENRY | STODDARD. VOLUME I, NEW YORK : P. F. C. O L L H. E. R. r g - A - - w j' - w ºa- - - - - - Nº ºn - 9 - 1 S- 3. C O N T E JN © . . . . 3 tº: 4 ,” f º # V O L U M E O N E . - Life, by Richard Henry Stoddard. s e º º º e e o e s e o e º e º 'o e º sº e e º e o 'º e s e e g º Gº e º e º 'º e e s e º 'º tº a C & . . . . • * e º º e a * * * * * * zw ~\ 7. y THE SKETCH-BOOK OF GEOFFREY CRAYON, Gent. Angler, The . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 86 |Pride of the Village. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 83 . A Royal Poet. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 I | Rip Van Winkle. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8 Art of Book-Making. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • 19 Roscoe. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . & 334t's #ead Tavern, Eastcheap . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29 || Rural Funeral, The... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . , 36 Broken Heart, The . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I8 || Rural Life in England. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . [G. Christmas . . . . . . . . - e s is e e - e º 'º e s e e < * * * * * * * . . . . . 47 | Sleepy Hollow, The Legend of . . . . . . . . _e e s - e < * * * 89 Christmas Day. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 54 || Spectre Bridegroom, The . . . . . . . . . . . • - - - - - - - - - 39 Christmas Dinner, The . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 58 | Stage-Coach, The . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 49 Christmas Eve. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51 | Stratford-on-Avon. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 67 Country Church, The . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25 |The Inn Kitchen. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - - - 39 English Writers on America. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13 || The Wife...... • * e s e º e º e s is a e e º e º e º 'º e º e s e e = e - e. 6 John Bull. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • * e s tº e º e º 'º e º e º e º ºs e º 'º' 80 | The Voyage. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 Little Britain. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 62 | Traits of Indian Character. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 72 Mutability of Literature. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32 | Westminster Abbey. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 44 Philip of Pokanoket. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75 | Widow and her Son, The... . . . . . . . . . . . & © e , , 27 |Q. Fº w Aſ | |\, \", r A SERIES OF TALES AND SKETCH FS OF THE MOORS AND SPAN IARL)S. Alhambra, The, by Moonlight. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . II4 Legend of the Two Discreet Statues. . . . . . . . . . . . I£3 Inhabitants of... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . II5 Local Traditions. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I Interior of the. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . IO6- Mahamad Aben Alahmar, the Founder of the Al- Finisher of the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I7o hambra. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I68 Founder of the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I68 || Reflections on the Moslem Domination in Spain. Iro Government of the . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . IO5 | The Adventure of the Mason. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 117 Visitors to the. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . © e e < e < e e º 'º e 142 | The Author's Chamber. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I (3 A Ramble Among the Hills. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . IIS The Balcony. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I IG Boabdil El Chico . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I22 | The Court of Lions. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I2O Governor Manco and the Soldier. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I58 The Governor and the Notary. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I56 : Yusef Ahul Hagias, the Finisher of the Alham- The House and the Weather-cock. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I 24 bra. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I70 | The Household. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . III Legend of the Arabian Astrologer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 124 The Journey. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . IoI of the Moor's Legacy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... . . . I36 | The Pilgrim of Love..... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I.43 “ of the Page and the Ger-Falcon. . . . . . . . . I52 | The Tower of Comares. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . IO8 ‘‘ of Prince Ahmed El Kamel . . . . . . . . . . . . I43 | The Tower of Las Infantas. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ‘. . . I24 of the Rose of the Alhambra. . . . . . . . . . . . . 52 | The Truant. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . • * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * II2 “ of the Three Beautiſ': P = cesses. . . . . . . 129 The Veteraſ.. . . . . . . . . . • . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 156 ~. f Y rºº y ~ -- A CHRONICLE OF THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. § A Rºl ER PAGE CHA1*TER PAG & I.—Of the Kingdom of Granada, and the | IV.-Expedition of Muley Aben Hassan' - tribute which it paid to the Castil- against the fortress of Zahara. . . [76 : ian crown. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I73 V.—Expedition of the Marques of Cadiz H. —How the Catholic sovereigns sent to against Alhama. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 177 demand arrears of tribute of the VI.-How the people of Granada were aſ, Moor, and how the Moor replica. 174 fected on hearing of the capture of H}].-- How the Moor determined to strike *Alhama ; and how the Moorish the first blow in the war. . . . . . . . . . 175 King sallied forth to regain it... . 179 I.—How Boabdil returned secretly to Granada, and how he was received II.-How King Ferdinand laid siege to Velez Malaga III.-How King Ferdinand and his army were exposed to imminent peril be- fore Velez Malaga . . . . . . . . . . . . . IV.-Result of the stratagem of El Zagal to surprise King Ferdinand . . . . V.—How the people of Granada rewarded the valor of El Zagal. . . . . . . . . . . . VI.--Surrender of Velez Malaga and other * s º a e º e a tº s e = * * * * * * 232 233 235 237 * - t . . f ... . . . . . ~4-w' . . . * V1 | CONTENTS. - . . . . | CH A NTER # * FAGE | CHAPTER PA Gº V II.-How the Duke of Medina Sidonia, XXVIII.—Attempt of El Zagal to surprise and the Chivalry of Andalusia, Boabdil in Almeria. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2 I hastened to the relief of Alhama. . ºr XXIX. —How King Ferdinand commenced VIII —Sequel of the events at Alhama. . . . . I82 another, campaign against the ! IX. —Events at Granada, and rise of the Moors, and how he la d siege to Moorish King Boabdil El Chico.. 184 Coin and Cartana . . . . . . . . . . . . • 2 ſ 2 X.—Royal expedition against Loxa. . . . . 185 XXX. —Siege of Ronda . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 212 XI.-How Muley Aben Hassan made a XXXI.-How the people of Granada invited foray into the lands of Medina El Zagal to the throne, and how Sidonia, and how he was received. 187 he marched to the capital . . . 2 (4 XII. —Foray of Spanish cavaliers among XXXII.-How the Count De Cabra attempted the mountains of Malaga. . . . . I89 to capture another King, and how XIII.-Effects of the disasters among th he fared in his attempt. . . . . . . . . . 2] fi mountains of Malaga. . . . . . . . . . I92 | XXXIII.-Expedition against the castles of XIV.--—How King Boabdil Ei Chico marched Cambil and Albahar. . . . . . . . . . . . . 21: over the borders. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 193 | XXXIV.—Enterprise of the Knights of Cala- XV.—How the Count De Cabra sallied forth trava against Zalea. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 219 e from his castle, in quest of King XXXV.—Death of Muley Aben Hassan . . . . 220 g Boabdil. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 194 | XXXVI.-Of the Christian army which as- XVI.—The battle of Lucena. . . . . . . . . . . . . . I 95 sembled at the city of Cordova. , 221 XVII.-Lamentations of the Moors for the XXXVII.-How fresh commotions broke out battle of Lucena . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I97 in Granada, and how the people XVIII.- How Muley Aben Hassan profited undertook to allay them. . . . . . . . . 223 by the misfortunes of his son XXXVIII.—How King Ferdinand held a council Boabdil . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I98 of war at the Rock of the Lovers. 224 XIX. —Captivity of Boabdil El Chico. . . . . . 199 || XXXIX. —How the royal army appeared be- XX.—Of the treatment of Boabdil by the fore the city of Loxa, and how it Castilian sovereigns . . . . . . . . . . . . 2OO was received ; and of the doughty XXI.—Return of Boabdil from captivity. . 201 achievements of the English Earl 225 XXII.-Foray of the Moorish Alcaydes and XL.—Conclusion of the siege of Loxa. . . . 226 battle of Lopera. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2O2 XLI.-Capture of Illora. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 227 XXIII.—Retreat of Hamet El Zegri, Alcayde XLII.—Of the arrival of Queen Isabella at of Ronda. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2O4 the camp before Moclin ; and of the XXIV.-Of the reception at court of the pleasant sayings of the English Earl 227 Count De Cambra and the Alcayde XLIII.-How King Ferdinand attacked Moc- De Los Donzeles. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2O5 lin, and of the strange events XXV.-How the Marques of Cadiz con- that attended its capture. . . . . . . . . 229 certed to surprise Zahara, and the XLIV.—How King Ferdinand forage 1 the result of his enterprise . . . . . . . . . . 2O6 Vega; and of the battle of the XXVI.-Of the fortress of Alhama, and how Bridge of Pinos, and the fate of wisely it was governed by the the two Moorish brothers. . . . . . . . 23G Count De Tendilla. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 2O8 XLV.—Attempt of El Zagal upon the life XXVII.—Foray of Christian knights into the of Boabdil, and how the latter was territory of the Moors. . . . . . . . . . . 209. roused to actic n . . . . . . . . . . . . . 231 A CHRONICLE OF THE CONQUEST OF GRANADA. VOLUM E SECOND. £HAPTER PAGE | CHAPTER PAGE XIII.—Sufferings of the people of Malaga. . 245 XIV.—How a Moorish Santon undertook to deliver the city of Malaga from the power of its enemies XV.—How Hamet El Zegri was hardened in his obstinacy by the arts of a Moorish astrologer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . XVI.—Siege of Malaga continued, destruc- tion of a tower by Francisco Ra- mirez De Madrid. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . XVII.-How the people of Malaga expostu- lated with Hamet El Zegri. . . . . . . XVIII.-How Hamet El Zegri sallied forth with the sacred banner, to attack the Christian camp . . . . . . . . . . . XIX. —How the city of Malaga capitulate XX.—Fulfilment of the prophecy of the dervise—Fate of Hamet El Zegri XXI.—How the Castilian sovereigns took possession of the city of Malaga, and how King Ferdinand signal- ized himself by his skill in bargain- ing with the inhabitants for their Iſa. In SOII] * * * * * * * * s 246 laces. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . VII. -Of the city of Malaga and its inhabit- an LS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . VIII —Advance of King Ferdinand against º Malaga. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . IX. --Siege of Malaga. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . X.—Siege of Malaga continued, obstinacy of Hamet El Zegri. . . . . . . . . . . . . . XI.”—Attack of the Marques of Cadiz upon Gibralfaro. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . XII.-Siege of Malaga continued, strata- gems of various kinds . . . . . . . . . . . 24J 2 . I • s • * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * g e º a s tº ; , , , * 3 # # t CO Cyå APTER - i XXI 1. --How King Ferdinand prepared to & carry the war into a different part of the territories of the Moors. . . . XXIII.-How King Ferdinand invaded the eastern side of the kingdom of Granada, and how he was received % by El Zagal XXIV.--How the Moors made various enter- prises against the Christians XXV.--Hºw King Ferdinand prepared to be- siege the City of Baza, and how the city prepared for defence XXVI.-- The Battle of the Gardens before -> Baza XXVII. — Siege of Baza—Embarrassments of the army. . . . . . . . . ‘. . . . . . . . . . . . . . ŽKVIII.--Siege of Baza continued—How King Ferdinand completely invested the * * * * * * g e º e º e º 'º e º e º e º 'º e º 'º $ tº # tº e º 'º e º e º e e º 'º e º e º s & e e tº e º º e e º a tº gº º s e º 'º e º e º e e s e º ºs e e º e º e gar and other cavaliers XXX. —Continuation of the siege of Baza. . . XXXI.—How two friars arrived at the camp and how they came from the Holy * Land XXXII.-How Queen Isabella devised means to supply the army with provis- e e º ºs e s is e º e º e < e < * * * * * * e º e & XXXIII. —Of the disasters that befell the camp XXXIV.-Encounters between the Christians and Moors before Baza ; and the devotion of the inhabitants to the defence of their city. . . . . . . . . . . . . XXXV.-How Queen Isabella arrived at the camp, and the consequences of her arrival XXXVI —Surrender of Baza. XXXVII —Submission of El Zagal to the Cas- tilian sovereigns XXXVIII.--Events at Granada subsequent to the submission of El Zagal * * , ºr " # * - * - -- * * # , * * NTENTs. PAGE 257 259 26o 26o 26I 262 263 |: 264 265 266 267 268 269 -- .* . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ºf , ”, “ . . . . ... •º • *H 3 º' * * * . * * * + * T., * * . s' ". . . . . e. ... * * t ** 3. * * *. g - * + * * , - .* * * # • * ; ; # * , * f * ! $s * " ; , ..} * , , # 4 2 - > # , ar *g t . * * * * # - - - i 3 > V1.1% § - - ... • . - . \ * : * • CHAPTER * & g P&GE XXXIX.-How King Ferdinand turned his hos- tilities against the city of Granada 272 276 LEGENDS OF THE CONQUEST OF SPAIN. THE LEGEND OF DON RODERICK. CHAP TER I.—Of the ancient inhabitants of Spain Of the misrule of Witiza the Wicked II.-The rise of Don Roderick—His gov- ernment. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . III.-Of the loves of Don Roderick and the Princess Elyata. . . . . . . . . . . . IV.-Of Count Julian. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . V.—The story of Florinda. . . . . . . . . . . . VI.-Don Roderick receives an extraor- dinary embassy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . VIX.—Story of the marvellous and portent- OuS to Wer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . VIII.-Count Julian—His fortunes in Africa —He hears of the dishonor of his child—His conduct thereupon. . . . IX. —Secret visit of Count Julian to the Arab camp—First expedition of Taric El Tuerto X.—Letter of Muza to the Caliph—Sec- ond expedition of Taric El Tuerto XI.-Measures of Don Roderick on hear- PAGE XL.—The fate of the Castle of Roma. . . . 273 XLI.-How Bobadil El Chico took the field ; ari his expedition against Alhendin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27 XLII.-Exploit of the Count De Tendilia. . 27: XLIII.—Expedition of Boabdil El Chico against Salobreña — Exploit of Hernando Perez Del Pulgar. . . . . XLIV.-How King Ferdinand treated the people of Guadix, and how El Za- gal finished his regal career. . . . . 277 XLV.-Preparations of Granada for a des- . perate defence. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 278 XLVI.-How King Ferdinand conducted the siege cautiously ; and how Queen Isabella arrived at the camp. . . . . 286 XLVII.-Of the insolent defiance of Yarfe, the Moor, and the daring exploit of Hernando Perez Del Pulgar. . 280 XLVIII.-How Queen Isabella took a view of the city of Granada, and how her curiosity cost the lives of many Christians and Moors. . . . . . . . . . . . 281 XLIX. —Conflagration of the Christian camp 283 L.—The last ravage before Granada. . . . 283 LI.—Building of the City of Sante Fé— Despair of the Moors. . . . . . . . . 284 LII.-Capitulation of Granada . . . . . . . . . . 285 LIII.-Commotions in Granada. . . . . . . . . . 286 LIV.—Surrender of Granada . . . . . . . . . . . . 287 LV.—How the Castilian sovereigns tock possession of Granada. . . . . . . . . . 238 APPENDIX. Fate of Boabdil El Chico. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 233 Death of the Marques of Cadiz. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 29C The legend of the death of Don Alonzo. De Aguilar . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . e is e e º ſº e s e º 'º e º e a 29, I CHAPTER PAGE ing of the invasion—Expedition of Ataulpho—Vision of Taric. . . . . . . 307 XII.—Battle of Calpe—Fate of Ataulpho. 303 XIII.-Terror of the country — Roderick rouse? "aimself to arms. . . . . . . . . . . 3IC XIV.—March or the Gothic army—Encamp- ment on the banks of the Guada- lete—Vyſysterious predictions of a Palmer—Conduct of Pelistes there- uPOn. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3II XV.-Skirmishing of the armies—Pelistes and his son — Pelistes and the bishop . . . . . . . . * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * - 3I2 XVI.—Traitorous message of Count Julian 313 XVII.-Last day of the battle. . . . . . . . . . . . . 3I3 XVIII.-The field of battle after the defeat— The fate of Roderick. . . . . . . . . . . . 31 g APPENDIX. - Illustrations of the foregoing legend—The ton, b of Roderick. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3 & . 3 #6 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 295 297 298 299 299 3OI 3O2 3O4 305 306 The cave of Hercules. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * - “{..., , , * * . . . . . . . . . . . . . - * * * *. -- - * * - - , - " wº i - • * * * * - ! ‘. . . 3 * * * . . . ‘. . . . . . . . ." - - * # * - .*, * ' , , - . . . ., ; , ~ * * * *... . . . . - 3' *.. 'A' . . . ... “ 4* % * * * * * , , . * 3 - “.. * * *** * /* , * # - --. # # y … * - +. t * , . *- \ viii , . . . . . contRNrs. LEGENDS OF THE SUBJUGATION OF SPAIN. ‘S. CHATTER .* PAGE . CHAPTER PA GE * * I.—Consternation of Spain–Conduct of the X.—Expedition of Abdalasis against Sevil's Conquerors—Missives between Taric and the “land of Tadmir" . . . . . . . . . . . gay and Muza. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... 318 XI.—Muza arrives at Toledo —linterview le. II. —Capture of Granada—Subjugation of the tween him and Taric . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3.2% Alpuxarra Mountains. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 319| XII.-Muza prosecutes the scheme of conquest III.--Expedition of Magued against Cordova– —Siege of Saragossa—Complete subju- Defence of the patriot Pelistes . . . . . . . 32O gation of Spain . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 330 IV.-Defence of the Convent of St. George by XIII.-Feud between the Arab Generals—They Pelistes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32I - are suzmmoned to appear before the V.--Meeting between the patriot Pelistes and Caliph at Damascus — Reception of the traitor Julian . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 322 Taric. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 33I VI.-How Taric El Tuerto captured the city XIV.-Muza arrives at Damascus—H.3 ...cer- of Toledo through the aid of the Jews, | view with the Caliph—The Table of and how he found the famous talis- Solomon—A rigorous sentence . . . . . . . 332 manic table of Solomon. . . . . . . . . . . . . 323 XV.-Conduct of Abdalasis as Emir of Spain... 333 VII.-Muza Ben Nozier's entrance into Spain XVI.-Loves of Abdalasis and Exilona. . . . . . . . . 333 and capture of Carmona . . . . . . . . . . . . . 324 |XVII.- Fate of Abdalasis and Exilona—Death of VIII.-Muza marches against the city of Seville, 325 Muza. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 334 IX. —Muzi besieges the city of Merida. . . . . . . . 325|LEGEND OF COUNT JULIAN AND HIS FAMILY. . . . . . . . . . . . ge e º ºs º is e º e º e º e º & tº e º e º e 336 TALES OF A TRAVELLER. P A R T F I R S T . STRANGE STORIES BY A NERVOUS GENTLEMAN. A II unting Dinner . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 34I | The Adventure of my Uncle. . . . . . . . . . . • . . . . . . . . 343 The Adventure of my Aunt . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 346 | The Adventure of my Grandfather. . . . . . . . . . . . . 348 The Adventure of the Mysterious Picture... . . . . . 350 | The Bold Dragoon. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 348 The Adventure of the Mysterious Stranger . . . . . . 353 | The Story of the Young Italian. . . . . . . . • . . . . . . . , 355 P A R T S E C O N D . BU C K T H O R N E AND H IS FRIEND. s. A Literary Dinner. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 364 || The Booby Squire. . . . . . . . . . . . . . & © tº e º e g . . . . . . . . 380 Buckthorne; or, the Young Man of Great Expec- The Club of Queer. Fellows . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 355 tations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * * * * * * 372 | The Poor Devil Author. . . . . . . . . . tº a º q . . . . 367 Grave Reflections of a Disappointed Man . . . . . . . 385 | The Strolling Manager . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 388 Literary Life. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 363 P A R T T H I R D . T H E I T A L I A N B A N D I T T H . The Adventure of the Little Antiquary ... . . . . . . . 395 The Painter's Adventure. ..... • . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . , 399 The Adventure of the Popkins Family . . . . . . . . . . 397 || The Story of the Bandit Chieftain . . . . . . . • . . . . . . 401 The Inn at Terracina. . . . . . . . . . . . . . tº º e º ſº º ºs e º ge ... 392 || The Story of the Young Robber. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 405 P A R T F O U R T H . T H E M O N E Y – D H G G E R S . ...” Hell Gate. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4Io The Adventure of Sam, the Black Fisherman, Kidd the Pirate . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . II commonly denominated Mud Sam. . . . . . . . . . 423 The Devil and Tom Walker. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 412 || Wolfert Webber ; or Golden Dreams. . . . . . . . . . 416 APPENDIX. * - KNICKERBOCKERS HISTORY OF NEW-YORK. VO}_UME ONE. Account of the Author. . . . . • * * * e e s e e e s e * * * * * ~ * . 433 Address to the Public. . . . . . . - e º a tº e º e º 'º e e º & © e º & & BOOK I. CONTAINING DIVERS INGENIOUS THEORIES AND PHILO- SOPHIC SPECULATIONS, conceRNING THE CREATION AND POPULATION OF THE world, As CONNECTED WITH THE HISTORY OF NEW-YORK. CHAFT'ER PAGE I.-Description of the World. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 438 II.-Cosmogony, or Creation of the World; with a multitude of excellent theories, ºy which the creation of a world is shown to be no such difficult matter as common folk would imagine. . . . . . . . . . ſII.-How that famous navigator, Noah, was shamefully nick-named ; and how he committed an unpardonable oversight, in not having four sons. With the great trouble of philosophers caused thereby, and the discovery of America. 441 IV.-Showing the great difficulty philosophers have had in peopling America—and how the Aborigines came to be begot- ten by accident—to the great relief and satisfaction of the Author. . . . . . . . . . . . V.-In which the Author puts a mighty ques- tion to the rout, by the assistance of the Man in the Moon—which not only delivers thousands of people from great embarrassment, but likewise concludes this introductory book... . . . . . . . . . . . . . BOOK II. TREATING OF THE FIRST SETTLEMENT OF THE PROV- INCE OF NIEW-NEDERLANDTS. 439 443 I.-In which are contained divers reasons why a man should not write in a hurry. Also, of Master Hendrick Hudson, his discovery of a strange country—and how he was magnificently rewarded by the munificence of their High Mighti- TheSSCS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . II.-Containing an account of a mighty Ark, which floated, under the protection of St. Nicholas, from Holland to Gibbet Island—the descent of the strange Ani- mals therefrom—a great victory, and a description of the ancient village of Communipaw . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . {{l.–In which is set forth the true art of mak- ing a bargain—together with the mi- raculous escape of a great Metropolis in a fog—and the biography of certain Heroes of Communipaw. . . . . . . . . . . . . 448 45I 452 444 CHAPTER PAGS IV.-How the Heroes of Communipaw voy- aged to Hell–Gate, and how they were received there. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . V.—How the Heroes of Communipaw re- turned somewhat wiser than they went —and how the sage Oloffe dreamed a dream—and the dream that he dreamed 457 VI.-Containing an attempt at etymology— and of the founding of the great city of New-Amsterdam... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . VII.-How the city of New-Amsterdam waxed great, under the protection of Ołoffe 454 458, the Dreamer. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . © e - e. e º e º a 459 BOOK III. IN WIIICH IS RECORDED THE GOLDEN REIGN C. § WOUTER VAN TWILLER. I.—Of the renowned Walter Van Twiller, his unparalleled virtues—and likewise his unutterable wisdom in the lawcase of Wandle Schoonhoven and Barent Bleecker—and the great admiration of. the public thereat. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . II.-Containing some account of the grand council of New-Amsterdam, as also divers especial good philosophical rea- sons why an alderman should be ſat— with other particulars touching the state of the province. . . . III.-How the town of New-Amsterdam arose out of mud, and came to be marvel- lously polished and polite—together with a picture of the manners of our great-great-grandfathers IV.--Containing further particulars of the Golden Age—and what constituted a fine Lady and Gentleman in the days of Walter the Doubter. . V.—In which the reader is beguiled into a de- lectable walk, which ends very differ. ently from what it commenced. . . . . . . . VI.—Faithfully describing the ingenious peo. ple of Connecticut and thereabouts— showing, moreover, the true meaning of liberty of conscience, and a curious & device among these sturdy barbarians, to keep up a harmony of intercourse, and promote population. . . . . . . . . . • e e VII.-How these singular barbarians turned out to be notorious squatters—how they built air castles, and attempted to ini. tiate the Nederlanders in the mystery of bundling . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . VIII.—How the Fort Goed Hoop was fearfully beleaguered—how the renowned Wou- 46] 463, 465 * * * * * * * * * * e s is 467 * * * * * * * * * * * * 468 469 47I vii ; : * ** t * * * * CONTA (NING THE CHRONICLES OF THE REIGN OF WIL- LIAM THE TESTY. I.-Showing the nature of history in general; containing furthermore the universal acquirements of William the Testy, and how a man may learn so much as to render himself good for nothing.... II -In which are recorded the sage projects * of a ruler of universal genius—the art of fighting by proclamation—and how that the valiant Jacobus Van Curlet came to be foully dishonoured at Fort Goed Hoop . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . e - e. III.-Containing the fearful wrath of William the Testy, and the great dolour of the New-Amsterdammers, because of the affair of Fort Goed Hoop—and, more- ever, how William the Testy did strongly fortify the city—together with the exploits of Stoffel Brinkerhoff. . . . 473 476 478 tiers—how William the Testy had well- nigh ruined the province through a cabalistic word—as also the secret ex- pedition of Jan Jansen Alpendam, and his astonishing reward. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . V.—How William the Testy enriched th province by a multitude of laws, and came to be the patron of lawyers and bum-bailiffs—and how the people be- came exceedingly enlightened and un- happy under his instructions . . . . . . . . VI.-Of the great pipe plot—and of the do- lourous perplexities into which William the Testy was thrown, by reason of his having enlightened the multitude.. VII.- Containing divers fearful accounts of * ... A -- ", , ' ' , , º: . . . . ...f t .** . . * ... ... " . 3. ‘. . . ... ...t 3. '. , , , , , ;" - * * . . . . . - “. , . " . *. §: ſº win CONTENTS. * * - - - - * * w + 2 CHAPTER PAGE | CHAPTER . . I ~ * *PAGR ter fell into a profound doubt, and how IV.-Philosophical reflections on he felly of he finally evaporated . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 472 being happy in times of prosperity— BOOK IV Sundry troubles on the southern fron- 470 481 482 Border Wars, and the flagrant outrages of the Mosstroopers of Connecticut— with the rise of the great Amphyctionic Council of the east, and the decline of William the Testy. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . KNICKERBOCKER'S HISTORY OF NEW-YORK. VOLUME TWO. BOOK V. 3 Nºf $ 1.NING THE FIRST PART OF THE REIGN OF PE- T &R STUYVESANT, AND HIS TROUBLES WITH THE A.V. Hºyſ'YCTIONIC COUNCIL. CHAPTER I.—In which the death of a great man is shown to be no very inconsolable mat- ter of sorrow—and how Peter Stuy- vesant acquired a great name from the uncommon strength of his head. . . . . . II.-Showing how Peter the Headstrong be- stirred himself among the rats and cobwebs on entering into office—and the perilous mistake he was guilty of in his dealings with the Amphyctions. III.-Containing divers speculations on war and negotiations—showing that a treaty of peace is a great national evil IV.-How Peter Stuyvesant was greatly belied ar” by his adversaries, the Mosstroopers— and his conduct thereupon V.—How the New-Amsterdammers became great in arms, and of the direful catas- trophe of a mighty army — together with Peter Stuyvesant's measures to fortify the city, and how he was the original founder of the Battery. . . . . . . VI.--How the people of the east country were suddenly afflicted with a diabolical evil, and their judicious measures for the extirpation thereof. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - - - V (H, -Which records the rise and renown of a valiant commander, showing that a man, like a bladder, may be puſſed up to greatness and importance by mere FAGE 487 489 490 492 495 BOOK VI. CONTAINING THE SECOND PART OF THE REIGN OF PETER THE HEADSTRONG, AND HIS GALLANT ACHIEVEMENTS ON THE DELAWARE, CHAPTER PAGE I.—In which is exhibited a warlike portrait of the great Peter—and how General Van Poffenburgh distinguished himself at Fort Casimir... II.-Showing how profound secrets are often brought to light; with the proceedings of Peter the Headstrong when he heard of the misfortunes of General Van Poffenburgh. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . III.—Containing Peter Stuyvesant’s voyage up the Hudson, and the wonders and de- lights of that renowned river... . . . . . IV.—Describing the powerful army that as- sembled at the city of New-Amsterdam —together with the interview between Peter the Headstrong and General Van Poffenburgh, and Peter's sentiments touching unfortunate great men.. V.—In which the author discourses very in- genuously of himself—after which is to be found much interesting history about Peter the Headstrong and his followers VI.—Showing the great advantage that the author has over his reader in time of battle—together with divers portentous movements, which betoken that some- thing terrible is about to happen. . e VII.—Containting the most horrible battke ever recorded in poetry or prose—with the admirable exploits cf Peter the Head- strong . . . . . . . • e a e e º e º a s - e. e. e. • * ~ e e s wind.. & e º is “ sº e º 'º - e < * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * e e e s º a º e º 'º e a tº e º a s 499 50I 507 5Og * ' " ºf “ . . . . . . . . . "Wi. . . . . . . ; . . . . . . . .';*, *, *.*. w w f ‘-. ºr * 1. - * , º . . . * . . v. ', - !. : - I * º: tº t . i CONTENTS. . . . . . . . . ix. * • \ * * - . f . .” * CHAPTER FAGE | CHAPTER \ VIII.-In which the author and the reader, while reposing after the battle, fall into a very grave discourse—after which is recorded the conduct of Peter Stuyves- ant after his victory... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 513 BOOK VII. CONTAINING THE THIRD PART OF THE REIGN OF PE- TER THE HEADSTRONG—-HIS TROUBLES WITH THE BRITISH NATION, AND THE DECLINE AND FALL OF THE DUTCH DYNASTY. I.—How Peter Stuyvesant relieved the sov- ereign people from the burthen of tak- ing care of the nation—with sundry particulars of his conduct in time of - 5I5 lested by the Mosstroopers of the East, and the Giants of Merryland— and how a dark and horrid conspiracy was carried on in the British Cabinet against the prosperity of the Manhat- * e e º e - e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e s - e - e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. e. 518 East Country—showing that, though an old bird, he did not understand trap 520 r - - * * * W • . , t º ... . . .” * , , , IV.-How the people of New-Amsterdam' were thrown into a great panic by the news of a threatened invasion, and the manner in which they fortified them- selves... . . . ‘. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . V.—Showing how the grand Council of the - New-Netherlands came to be miracu- lously gifted with long tongues—to- gether with a great triumph of Econ- Oſny. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . VI.-In which the troubles of New-Amster- dam appear to thicken—showing the bravery in time of peril of a people who defend themselves by resolutions. 524 VII.-Containing a doleful disaster of Antony the Trumpeter—and how Peter Stuy- vesant, like a second Cromwell, sud- denly dissolved a rump Parliament.... 526 VIII.-How Peter Stuyvesant defended the city of New-Amsterdam, for several days, by dint of the strength of his head. . . . 528 IX. —Containing the dignified retirement, and mortal surrer äer, of Peter the Head- 522 523 Strong. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53O X.—The Authur's reflections upon what has been said... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 531 SALM A G UND I; OR, THE WHIM-WHAMS AND OPINIONS OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ., AND OTHERS. V O L U M E O N E . NO. PAGE I.-Editor's advertisement . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 533 Publisher's notice. . . . . . . • • * * * * * * * * > . . . . 533 Introduction to the work . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 534 Theatrics—by Will Wizard . . . . . . . . . . . . . 535 New York Assembly—by A. Evergreen .. 536 II.—Launcelot Langstaff’s account of his friends. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 537 Mr. Wilson’s concert—by A. Evergreen... 538 Pindar Cockloft to Launcelot Langstaff .. 540 III.-Account of Mustapha Rub-a-dub Keli Khan . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Letter from Mustapha Rub-a-dub Keli Khan to Asem Hacchem . . . . . . . . . . . . . 542 Fashions—by A. Evergreen. . . . . . . . . . . . . 543 Fashionable morning-dress for walking. .. 543 The progress of Salmagundi . . . . . . . . . . . . 544 Poetical proclamation from the mill of Pindar Cockloft, Esq. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 545 IV.-Some account of Jeremy Cockloft the YOllingeſ - . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 545 Memorandums for a tour to be entitled “The Stranger in New Jersey; or, Cockney Travelling ”—by Jeremy Cock- loft the younger. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 546 V.—Introduction to a letter from Mustapha Rub-a-dub Keli Khan . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 548 Letter from Mustapha to Abdallah Eb'n al Rahab . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 548 NO. PAGE Account of Will Wizard's expedition to a modern ball—by A. Evergreer... 550 Poetical epistle to the ladies—from the mill of Pindar Cockloft, Esq. . . . . . . . 552 VI.-Account of the family of the Cock- lofts. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 552 Theatrics—by William Wizard, Esq. .. 555 VII.-Letter from Mustapha Rub-a-dub Keli Khan to Asem Hacchem . . . . . . . . . . . 557 Poetical account of ancient times— from the mill of Pindar Cockloft, Esq. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 560 Notes on the above—by W. Wizard, Psq . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 560 VIII.--Anthony Evergreen's account of his friend Langstaff. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 56I On style—by William Wizard, Esq..... 563 The editors and the public. . . . . . . . . . . . 565 IX. — Account of Miss Charity Cockloft...... 566 From the elbow-chair of the author. . . . 567 Letter from Rub-a-dub Keli Khan to Asem Hacchem . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 568 Poetry, from the mill of Pindar Cock- loft, Esq. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57O X.—Introduction to the number. . . . . . . . . 57 I Letter from Demi Semiquaver to Launce- lot Langstaff. Esq. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57I Note by the publisher. . . . . . . . . © tº ſº º e º e 573 PAGE *. ** * : * * * * * *. * - + * * ... F .* §,' ' ' ' ' ' '… < . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ; * . . . . . . . .N. tº . . . . . . . . .'; ' ' ' ' S .*.*, *.* **** ..., º * * t # 3.3. * h ** -- ~ -\ * * * * * * *, ** # useº * * * * + #” * * * * - * - f * * * "... • * , CONTENT * * * ~ ** * * vº -> * & S. i * ~. * f * : * - t * * * & w Y. * * +--- *. * * 4. .* sºr *. .* • a " " t t tº -r t 1 y h *** dº A # * * { f t A f •ºr - SAL M A G UND I; OR, THE whim-WHAMS AND OPINIONS OF LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, Esq., AND OTHERS. - # V O L U M E- T W O. NO. PAGE XI.-Letter from Mustapha Rub-a-dub Keli 'Khan to Asem Hacchem Account of “mine uncle John ” XII.—Christopher Cockloft's company... . . . . The Stranger at Home ; or, a Tour y in Broadway—by Jeremy Cockloft * the younger. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .- Introduction to Pindar Cockloft's poem z . A poem, from the mill of Pindar Cock- f loft, Esq. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - X] II.-Introduction to Will Wizard's plan for defending our harbor. . . . . . . . . . . . . . “Plans for defending our Harbor,” by William Wizard, Esq A Retrospect; or, “What you will”.. To readers and correspondents. . . . . XIV.-Letter from Mustapha Rub-a-dub Keli Khan to Asem Hacchem Cockioſt Hall—by L. Langstaff Theatrical Intelligence—by William Wizard, Esq. * * * * XV.--Sketches from Nature—by A. Ever- green, genu. . . . . . e 96 On Greatness—by L. Langstaff, Esq.. 567 594 • * * ~ * * © tº e s e - tº e º 'º e is e º e º e - e s = e s e e NO. , PAGE XVI.-Style at Ballston—by W. Wizard, Esq. 600 From Mustapha Rub-a-dub Keli Khan to Asem Hacchem. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 6OI XVII.—Autumnal Reflections — by Launcelot Langstaff, Esq. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Description of the library at Cockloft Hall—by L. Langstaff. . . . . . . . . . . . . Chap. CIX. of the Chronicles of the 6O4 605 renowned and ancient City of Gotham . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 606 XVIII.-The little man in black—by Launcelot Langstaff, Esq. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 608 Letter from Mustapha Rub-a-dub Keli Khan to Asem Hacchem. . . . . . . . . . 6Io XIX. —Introduction to the number. . . . . . . . . . . 6I2 letter from Rub-a-dub Keli Khan to Muley Helim al Raggi. . . . . . . . . . . . . 6I2 A1, thony Evergreen's introduction to the “winter campaign "... . . . . . . . . . 615 Tea, a poem, from the mill of Pindar Cockloft, Esq.. . . . . . . . . . --------.. 616 XX. —On the new year. . . . . . . . . . . • - - - - - - - - - 617 To the ladies—from A. Evergreen, gent 619 Farewell Address... - - - - - - - - - - . . . . e - - 62I Page Missing in Original Volume Page Missing in Original Volume Page Missing in Original Volume Page Missing in Original Volume i LIFE OF WASHINGTON IRVING. BY RICHARD HENRY STODIDART). M THE life of Washington Irving was one of the brightest ever led by an author. He discovered his genius at an early age; was graciously wel- comed by his countrymen ; answered the literary condition of the period when he appeared; won easily, and as easily kept, a distinguished place in the republic of letters; was generously re- warded for his work; charmed his contempora- ries by his amiability and modesty; lived long, wisely, happily, and died at a ripe old age, in the fullness of his powers and his fame. He never learned the mournful truth which the lives of so many authors force upon us: Slow rises worth, by poverty depressed ; ” he never felt the ills which so often assail the Souls of Scnoiars - “Toil, envy, want, the patron and the jail; ” he never wrote for his bread like Johnson and Goldsmith, and never hungered like Otway and Chatterton; but lived in learned ease, surrounded by friends, master of himself and his time—a prosperous gentleman. Born under a lucky star, all good things sought him out, and were turned by him to delightful uses. He made the world happier by his gifts, and the world honors his memory. * The ancestry of Washington Irving reaches back to the days of Robert Bruce, who, when a fugitive from the court of Edward I., concealed himself in the house of William De Irwin, his Secretary and sword-bearer. William De Irwin followed the changing fortunes of his royal Inaster; was with him when he was routed at Methven ; shared his subsequent dangers; and was one of the seven who were hidden with him in a copse of holly when his pursuers passed by. When Bruce came to his own again he made him Master of the Rolls, and ten years after the battle of Bannockburn, gave him in free barony the forest of Drum, near Aberdeen. He also permit- ted him to use his private badge of three holly ieaves, with the motto, Staff sole sub zºnóra værens, which are still the arms of the Irving family. Our return to New York. concern, however, is not with the ancestors of Irving, but with his father, William Irving, who was from Shapinsha, one of the Orkney Islands, and who, on the death of his mother, determined to follow the sea. He was born in 1731, a year before Washington, and when his biographers find him, was a petty officer on board of an armed packet-ship in the service of his British Majesty, plying between Falmouth and New York. At the former port he met and became enamored of Sarah Sanders, a beautiful girl about two years younger than himself, the only daughter of John and Anna Sanders, and grand- daughter of an English curate named Kent. They were married at Falmouth, on the 18th of May, 1761, and two years and two months later em- barked for New York, leaving the body of their first child in an English grave-yard. Williars Irving now abandoned the sea, and entering into trade, was prospering in a small way when the Revolution broke out. His house was under the guns of the English ships of war in the harbor, so he concluded to remove to the country, and took refuge with his family in Rahway, New Jersey. He was safer, perhaps, than he would have been in New York; but business was at an end. He was pointed out as a rebel, and British troops were billeted in his best rooms, while the family was banished to the garret, so he made up his mind to He was still a rebel, as well . as his wife, who supplied prisoners with food from her own table, visited them in prison when they were ill, and furnished them with clothes, blank- ets, and the like. “I'd rather you'd send them a rope, Mrs. Irving,” said the brutal Cunningham, who, nevertheless, allowed her charities to pass through his hands. Washington Irving, the youngest of eleven children, and the eighth son of William and Sarah Irving, was born toward the close of these troublous times in New York, on April 30, 1783. The house in which he was born, a plain, two- story dwelling in William Street (131), between Fulton and John, has long since disappeared, as well as the house on the opposite side of the (xv) * * * * - ". xVI same street (128) to which the family moved within a year after his birth. If the boy differed in any respect from the average boy, the particu- lars have not reached us. The earliest recorded anecdote in which he figures connects him with the illustrious name of Washington, who en- tered the city with his army not many months after his birth. The enthusiasm which greeted the great man was showed by a young Scotch maid-servant of the family, who followed him one morning into a shop, and showing him the lad, said: “Please, your honor, here's a bairn was named after you.” He placed his hand on the head of his little namesake and blessed him. Master Irving was not a prodigy; for at the first school, kept by a woman, to which he was sent in his fourth year, and where he remained upwards of two years, he learned little beyond his alphabet; and at the second, where boys and girls were taught, and where he remained until he was fourteen, he was more noted for his truth-telling than for his scholarship. He distinguished himself while at school by playing the part of Juba in Addison's Cato, at a public exhibition, and by amusing the audience by struggling at the same time with a mass , of honey-cake which he was munching behind the scenes, when he was suddenly summoned upon the stage. The first book he is known to have read with pleasure was Hoole's translation of * Orlando Furioso,” which fired him to emulate the feats of its heroes, by combatting his play- mates with a wooden Sword in the yard of his father's house. His next literary favorites were “Robinson Crusoe’’ and “Sinbad the Sailor,” and a collection of voyages and travels, entitled “The World Displayed,” which he used to read at night by the glimmer of secreted candles after he had retired to bed, and which begot in him a desire to go to Sea—a strong desire that by the time he left school almost ripened into a determination to run away from home and be a sailor. It led him, at any rate, to try to eat salt pork, which he abominated, and to lie on the hard floor, which, of course, was distasteful to. him. These preliminary hardships proved too much for his heroism, so the notion of becoming a gallant tar was reluctantly abandoned. Irving's first known attempt at original com- position was a couplet levelled against a larger school-fellow, who was attentive to the servant- girl of his master, and who was so enraged at the fun it occasioned, that he gave the writer a severe threshing. The young poet was discouraged in his personſ lities, but not his art; for he contrib- uted metrical effusions to the Weekly Museumz, a little periodical of four pages, published in Peck Slip, to which he also contributed moral essays. At the age of thirteen he wrote a play, which was represented at the house of a friend, and stim- ulated his boyish fondness for the stage. He LIFE OF WASHINGTON IRVING.. tº * • * w was abetted in his dramatic passion by James K. Paulding, who was between four and five years his senior, and was residing with his brother William Irving, who had married his sister. The theater was situated in John Street, between Broadway and Nassau, not far from his father's house, from which he used to steal to see the play, returning in time for the evening prayer, after which he would pretend to retire for the night to his own. room in the second story, whence he would climb out of the window on a woodshed, and so get back to the theater, and the enjoyment of the after-piece. These youthful escapades, if detected, would no doubt have subjected him to a severe lecture from his father, who was a strict, God- fearing man, and to tender reproaches from his mother. “Oh, Washington | * sighed the old lady, “if you were only good l’’ After a year or two more of school-life, during which he acquired the rudiments of a classical education, he concluded to study law, a profes- sion to which his brother John had devoted him- self, and accordingly entered the office of IHenry Masterton, with whom he remained until the summer of 1801, when he transferred his services to Brockholst Livingston, and, on that gentle- man being called to the bench of the Supreme Court of the State in the following January, he continued his legal pursuits in the office of Josiah Ogden Hoffman. Why Irving conceived that he had the makings of a lawyer in him, we are riot told ; nor why his father, who was averse to law, should have permitted him to mistake his tal- ents. It was not a very dangerous mistake, how- ever, for he soon awoke from it; nor was it sedu- lously indulged in while it lasted; for when not employed, like Cowper before him, in giggling and making giggle, he passed his days in reading the belle-lettre literature of England, and such literature as America then possessed, which was not much, nor worth dwelling upon now. He found his vocation in his nineteenth year, in the beginning of December, 1802, or it was found for him, by his brother Peter, who, a couple of months before, had started a daily paper in New York, under the title of the Morning Chronzcle, Ji which he was the editor and proprietor, and in which he persuaded his clever young brother to assist him. He furnished a series of essays over the signature of “Jonathan Oldstyle,” which betrayed the bent of his mind and his early read- ing, and which were generally of a humorous character. They were so much superior to 1 he fiewspaper writings of the period that they at- tracted great attention, and in spite of their local and temporary interest, were copied into the journals of other cities. Among those who were struck by their talent was Charles Brockdon Brown, who was the first American that made literature a profession, and who had already pub- lished four or five novels, remarkable both for their * LIFE OF WASHINGTON IRVING., * z extravagance and their power. He was a con- tributor to the periodicals of the day—such as they were—of which the best, perhaps, was The Monthly Magazine and American Register, of which he was the proprietor. It soon died, and was followed by 7%e ZzZerary Magazzine and American Register, of which he was also the proprietor, and it was in this latter capacity, rather than as the first American author, that he visited Irving, and besought him to aid him in his new enterprise. He was not successful, for, whatever may have been his inclinations, “Mr. Jonathan Ol'style” had not yet decided upon being an author. Irving's love of adventure, which had been stimulated by the reading of voyages and travels, and which would have led him to follow a mari- time life, if he could have gratified his inclina- tions, expended itself in long rambles about the rural neighborhoods of the city, which he knew by heart, and in more distant excursions into the country. He spent a holiday in Westchester County in his fifteenth year, and explored the recesses of Sleepy Hollow ; and, in his seven- teenth year, made a voyage up the Hudson, the beauties of which, as Bryant has pointed out, he was the first to describe. He was greatly im- p :essed by the sight of the Highlands, crowned with forests, with eagles sailing and screaming around them, and unseen streams dashing down their precipices; and was fairly bewitched by the Kaatskill Mountains. “Never shall I forget,” he wrote, “the effect upon me of the first view of them predominating over a wide extent of country, part wild, woody, and rugged, part softened away into all the graces of cultivation. As we slowly floated along, I lay on the deck and watched them through a long summer's day; undergoing a thousand mutations under the magical effects of atmosphere ; sometimes seeming to approach, at other times to recede; now almost melting into hazy distance, now burnished by the setting s' un, until, in the evening, they printed them- selves against the glowing sky in the deep purple of ay, Italian landscape.” In his twentieth year he made a visit to Johnstown, the residence of his eldest sister, which he reached in a wagon, after a voyage by sloop to Albany. This visit seems to have been undertaken on account of his health, for he was troubled with a constant pain in his breast, and a harassing cough at night. “I have been unwell almost all the time I have been up here,” he wrote to a friend. “I am too weak to take any exercise, and too low-spirited half the time to enjoy company.” “Was that young Irving,” asked Judge Kent of his brother-in-law, “who slept in the room next to me, and kept up such an incessant cough, during the night P” “It was.” “He is not long for this world.” This lugubrious judgment of the great jurist was shared by the family of Irving, who determined to send him to Europe. The expense was mainly borne by his brother William, who told him. speaking in behalf of his relatives, that one of their greatest sources of happiness was that for. tune put it in their power to add to the comfort and happiness of one so dear to them. They ac, cordingly secured a passage for him to Bordeaux, for which he started on the 19th of May, 1804, “There's a hap,” said the captain, “who wi: . go overboard before we get across.” The first European visit of an American was a greater event Seventy years ago than it is to-day. It was less common, at any rate, and was attended . with dangers which no longer exist. What it was to Irving we gather from his letters, which may still be read with pleasure, though nothing like the pleasure they afforded his friends, who were more intérested in his itinerary than it is possible for us to be. He reached Bordeaux after what the sailors call “a lady's voyage,” much im- proved in health, and enough of a sailor to climb to the masthead, and go out on the main topsail yard. He remained at Bordeaux about six weeks, Seeing what there was to see, and studying to im- prove himself in the language. From Bordeaux he proceeded to Marseilles by diligence, accom- panied by an eccentric American doctor, who pretended that Irving was an English prisoner, whom a young French officer that was with them had in custody, much to the regret of some girls at Tonneins, who pitied “le pauvre garçon,” and his prospect of losing his head, and supplied him with a bottle of wine, for which they would not take any recompense. At Nismes he began to have misgivings about his passports, of which he had two, neither accurate, his eyes being described as blue in one, and gray in the other. He had a great deal of trouble with his passports, first and last, but he worried through it, with considerable loss of temper, and, after a detention at Nice, finally set sail in a felucca for Genoa. From Genoa, where he resided up- wards of two months, he started for Messina, falling in with a privateer, or pirate, on the way, who frightened the captain and crew, and relieved them of about half their provisions, besides some of their furniture, and a watch and some clothes out of the trunks of the passengers. From Genoa he proceeded to Syracuse, where he ex- plored the celebrated Ear of Dionysius, and set out with a party for Catania, and thence to Pa- 1ermo, where he arrived at the latter end of the Carnival. He reached Naples on March 7, 1805, and after resting a few days, made a night ascent of Mount Vesuvius, where he had a tremendous view of the crater, that poured out a stream of red- hot lava, the sulphurous smoke of which stified him, so much so, that but for the shifting of the wind he might have shared the ſate of Pliny, Twenty days later he entered Rome by the Lat- eran Gate. Here he inet a fellow-countryman XV Ili in the person of Washington Alston, who was about four years his eider, whose taste for art had been awakened at Newport by his association with Malbone, the famous miniature painter, and who was already more than a painter of promise. “I do not think,” Irving wrote years after, “that I have ever been more completely captivated on a first acquaintance. He was of a light and graceful form, with large, blue eyes, and black, silken hair, waving and curling round a pale, ex- pressive countenance. Everything about him bespoke the man of intellect and refinement. His conversation was copious, animated, and 1.1ghly graphic, warmed by genial sensibility and benevolence, and enlivened by chaste and gentle humor.” * Irving and Alston iraternized, and spent the twenty-second birthday of the former in seeing Some of the finest collections of paintings in Rome, the painter teaching the traveller how to visit them to the most advantage, leading him al- ways to the masterpieces, and passing the others without notice. They rambled in company around the Eternal City and its environs, and Irving contrasted their different pursuits and prospects, favoring as he did so those of Alston, who was to reside amid the delightful scenes among which they were, surrounded by famous works of art and classic and historic monu- ments, and by men of congenial tastes, while he was to return home to the dry study of the law, for which he had no relish, and, as he feared, no talent. “Why might I not remain here, and be a painter P’’ he thought, and he mentioned the idea to his friend, who caught at it with eager- ness. They would take an apartment together, and he would give him all the instruction and assistance in his power. But it was not to be ; their lots in life were diſferently cast. So Irving resigned the transient, but delightful, prospect of becoming a painter. During his sojourn in Rome he attended the conversaziones of Torlonia, the banker, who treated him with great distinction, and, calling him aside when he came to make his adieu, asked him, in French, if he was not a rela- tive of General Washington P He was also intro- duced to the Baron de Humboldt, Minister of Prussia to the Court of Rome, and brother to the celebrated traveller and Savant, and to Madam de Staël, who astounded him by the amazing flow of her conversation, and the multitude of ques- tions with which she plied him. Irving started for Paris on the IIth of April, n tid reached it on the 24th of May. His stay in Paris, which extended over four months, was a round of sight-seeing and amusement. One night he went to the Theatre Montansier, where the acting was humorous, but rather gross; an– other night he went to the Imperial Academy of Music, where he saw the opera of “Alceste"; a third night he went to the theatre of Jeunes LIFE OF WASHINGTON IRVING. • A f Artistes, where boys acted plays; and a 'ourth to the theatre of Port St. Martin. He inade the acquaintance at this time of another American painter, Vanderlyn, a man of genius, in whom he was much interested, and who made a sketch of him in crayons. His mental improvement was not neglected in the gay capital, for he bought a botanical dictionary, and took two months’ tui- tion in French. Irving arrived in London on the 8th of Octo- ber, after a tour through the Netherlands. He ſound lodgings to his liking in Norfolk Street, Strand, not far from the city, and being in the vicinity of the theatres, he devoted most of his evenings to visiting them. Three great actors were then playing—John Kemble, Cooke, and Mrs. Siddons, and in his correspondence with his brother William he described the impression they made on him. Kemble was a very studied actor, he thought. His performances were correct and highly-finished paintings, but much labored. He never led the spectators to forget him in “Othelio,” it was Kemble they saw throughout, not the jeal- ous Moor. He was cold, artificial, and unequal, and he wanted mellowness in the tender scenes. He was fine in passages when he played “Jaffier,” but great only in Zanga, whom, for the moment, he fancied himself. Cooke was next to him, though rather confined in his range. His Iago was admirable; his Richard, he was told, was equally good; and in Sir Pertinax Mc Sycophant he left nothing to be desired. But Mrs. Siddons— if he wrote what he thought of her, his praises would be thought exaggeräted. “Her looks, her voice, her gestures delighted me. She penetrated in a moment to my heart. She froze and melted it by turns. A glance of her eye, a start, an excla- mation, thrilled through my very frame. The more I see her, the more I admire her. I hardly breathe while she in on the stage. She works up my feelings till I am like a mere child.” Irving set out from Gravesend on the 18th of January, 1806, and reached New York after a stormy passage of sixty-four days. He had contra- dicted the prophecy of the captain with whom he originally sailed—that he would go overboard be- fore he got across; and of Judge Kent, who de- clared he was not long for this world. He re- turned in good health, and resumed his legal studies, which were advanced enough to enable him to pass an examination in the ensuing Novem- ber, which ended in his admission to the bar. He entered the office of his brother John, at No. 3 Wall Street, and while waiting for clients who never came, he turned his attention to literature more seriously than he had ever done before. There was more room in it than in the over- crowded profession of the law; SO much room, indeed, that a young man of his talents might do almost anything that he chose. There was no fear of competitors, at any rate for authorship. -- • * i t f LIFE OF as a craft, had no followers, except Charles Brock- den Brown, who was still editing the Zzterary Aſagazzme, and perhaps John Dennie, whose rep- utation, such as it was, rested on his Lay Preacher, and who was editing the Port Folio. The few poets of which America boasted were silent. Trumbull, the author of “McFingal,” which was published the year before lºving's birth, was a Judge of the Superior Court; Dwight, whose “Conquest of Canaan" was published three years later, was merely the President of Yale College; Barlow, whose “Vision of Columbus’’ was published two years later still, and who had re- turned to this country after shining abroad as a diplomatist, was living in splendor on the banks of the Potomac, and brooding over that unread- able poem which he expanded into the epic of “The Columbiad”; and Freneau, by all odds the Dest of our earlier versifiers, who had published a collection of his effusions in 1795, had aban- doned the Muses, and was sailing a sloop between Savannah, Charleston, and the West Indies. Pierpont, who was two years younger than Irving, was a private tutor in South Carolina; Dana was a student at Harvard, and Bryant, a youth of twelve, at Cummington, was scribbling juvenile poems, which were being published in a news- paper at Northampton. The library of Irving's father was rich in Eliza- bethan writers, among whom Chaucer and Spen- ser were his early favorites, and it contained the classics of the eighteenth century, in verse and prose, not forgetting the Spectator and Tat- ler and Rawabler, and the works of the ingenious Dr. Goldsmith. Everybody who read fiction was familiar with the novels of Fielding and Smol- lett, and lovers of political literature were familiar with the speeches of Burke and the letters of Junius. Everybody read (or could read) the poetical works of Cowper and Burns, Campbell’s “Pleasures of Hope,” and Scott's “Lay of the Last Minstrel,” and whatever else in the shape of verse American publishers thought it worth their while to reprint for them; for then, as now, they were willing to enlighten their countrymen at the expense of British authors. Equipped with a liberal education, which he had imbibed from English literature, and with the practice which he had gained in writing for the paper of his brother Peter, which was dis- continued shortly before his return to America, Irving cast about for a field of authorship in which he might safely venture. His inclination it as toward the writing of essays, in which he had had considerable experience, and the taste of his friend Paulding, who was still living under the roof of his brother William, was in the same direction. They put their heads to- gether, and sketched out a plan of publication, in which they might have their fling at men and WASHINGTON IRVING. X1X things, and which should come out in nurt.bers whenever it suited their pleasure and conven; ience. The title that they selected was “Salma- gundi,” which is derived from the French word salmzgondºs, which is made up of two Latin words salgama and condita, signifying preserved pickles. Johnson defines the word as “a mixture of chopped meat and pickled herring with oil, vinegar, pepper, and onions,” which, no doubt, is an appetizing dish when one has become accus- tomed to it. Irving and Paulding were joined by William Irving, and the three resolved them- selves into what the Spaniards call a junta, i. e. Launcelot Langstaff, Anthony Evergreen, and William Wizard. The first number of “Salma- gundi" was issued on January 24th, 1807, the last on January 25th, 1808, the twenty numbers of which it consisted covering just the true-love epoch of the old ballads, “A twelvemonth and 3. day.” The time, which was ripe for almost anything in the shape of American literature, was so propitious for a periodical of this kind, that the success of the first number was decisive, There was no home literature then to speak of, as I have already hinted, and the city in which this bright venture appeared was a mere town compared with the Babel of to-day, scarcely numbering 80,000 inhabitants. It was not difficult to make a sensation in a place of that size, in a barren literary period, and “Salmagundi’ cer- tainly made a great one. Everybody talked about it, and wondered who its writers could be, and nobody was much the wiser for his wonderment, for the secret was well kept. It would be idle now to attempt to distinguish the share of the different writers, for, as Paulding wrote afterward, in the uniform edition of his works, in which it was included, “The thoughts of the authors were often so mingled togethel in these essays, and they were so literally joint plo- ductions, that it would be difficult as well as use- less to assign each his exact share.” Authors, there were none in New York, with the exception of the authors of “Salmagundi,” though there was no lack of writers, so called, among whom figured Samuel Latham Mitchill, practicer in physic (like Johnson's friend Levett), lawyer and retired Indian commissioner, member of Congress, and of various learned Societies, and editor of the Medical Reſosztory. This gen- tleman, who wrote largely, and was a butt to the wits of the day, had lately published a “Picture of New York,” which, if not funny itself, was a source of fun to others, particularly to Irving and his brother Peter, who determined to bur- lesque it. With this object in view they made many notes, and not to be behind its erudite author, who began his work with an account of the aborigines, they began theirs with the creation of the world. Started shortly after the publication of “Salmagundi,” it proceeded slow'y A i XX * * >, % * and with many interruptions, until the following January, when Peter Irving departed for Liver- pool on urgent business. Left to himself, his. forsaken collaborateur changed the whole plan of the work, condensing the great mass of notes which they had accumulated into five introduc- tory Chapters, and commencing at a considerably later period, the new Genesis being the dynasty of the Dutch in New York. Laid aside for a time, he resumed it in the summer, at a country house, at Ravenswood, near Hellgate, whither he had retired in order to prepare it for the press. A stupendous hoax, it was launched with a series of small hoaxes, the first of which appeared in the Evenzng Post of October 25th, 1809, in the shape of a paragraph narrating the disappearance from his lodging of a small elderly gentleman, by the name of Knickerbocker. He was stated to be dressed in an old black coat and a cocked hat, and it was intimated that there were some reasons for believing that he was not in his right mind. Great anxiety was felt, and any informa- tion concerning him would be thankfully re- ceived at the Columbian Hotel, Mulberry street, or at the office of the paper. This feeler was fol- lowed in a week or two by a communication from “A Traveller,” who professed to have seen him some weeks before by the side of the road, a little above Kingsbridge. “He had in his hands a small bundle, tied in a red bandanna handker- chief; he appeared to be travelling northward, and was very much fatigued and exhausted.” Ten days later (November 6th), Mr. Seth Han- daside, landlord of the Independent Columbian Hotel, inserted a card in the same paper, in which he declared that there had been ſeund in the room of the missing man, Mr. Diedrich Knickerbocker, a curious Aznd of a written book, in his own handwriting; and he wished the editor to notify him, if he was alive, that if he did not return and pay off his bill for board, he would have to dispose of his book to satisfy him for the same. The bait took, so much so that one of the city authorities actually waited upon Irving's brother, John, and consulted him on the propriety of offering a reward for the mythi- cal Diedrich To these “puffs preliminary” was added the precaution of having the manuscript set up in Philadelphia, which lessened the danger of the real character of the work being discovered be- fore its appearance t & The “History of New York,” which was pub- lished in this city on the 6th of December, 1809, was a success in more ways than one. Its whim and satire amused the lovers of wit and humor, and its irreverence towards the early Dutch set- tlers of the State annoyed and angered their descendants. Between these two classes of read- ers it was much talked about, and largely circula- ted. The Mont/k/y Azz:/tology, the forerunnel of LIFE OF WASHINGTON IRVING. * * $ ! ” A. l the AVorth American Review, pronounced it the wittiest book our press had ever produced; and Scott, to whom a copy of the second edition was sent by Irving's friend, Henry Brevort, and up on whom, from his ignorance of American parties and politics, much of its concealed satire was lost, owned, that looking at its simple and obvious meaning only, he had never read any- thing so closely resembling the style of Dean Swift as the annals of Diedrich Knickerbocker Bryant, who was a youth at college when it came out, committed a portion of it to memory to re- peat as a declamation before his class, but was so overcome with laughter when he appeared on the floor, that he was unable to proceed, and drew upon himself the rebuke of his tutor. Fifty years later, when he delivered a discourse on the life, character, and genius of Irving, his admiration had not subsided. “When I com- pare it with other works of wit and humor of a similar length,” he said, “I find that, unlike most of them, it carries the reader to the conclusion without weariness or Satiety, so unsought, spon- taneous, self-suggested are the wit and the humor. The author nakes us laugh, because he can no more help it than we can help laughing.” He refers to the opinion of Scott, already quoted, and remarks that the rich vein of Irving was of a quality quite distinct from the dry drollery of Swift, and he detects the influence of his read- ing. “I find in this work more traces than in f.is other writings, of what Irving owed to the earlier authors in our language. The quaint poetic coloring, and often the phraseology, be- tray the disciple of Chaucer and Spenser, We are conscious of a flavor of the olden time, as of a racy wine of some rich vintage— ‘Cooled a long age in the deep-delvèd earth.’ I will not say that there are no passages in this work which are not worthy of their context; that we do not sometimes meet with phraseology which we could wish changed; that the wit does not sometimes run wild, and drop here and there a jest which we could willingly spare. We forgive, we overlook, we forget all this as we read, in consideration of the entertainment we have enjoyed, and of that which beckons us for- ward in the next page. Of all mock-heroic works, Knickerbocker's ‘History of New York’ is the gayest, the airiest, and the least tiresome.” Irving's next literary labor was the editorship of a monthly publication, which had been estab- lished in Philadelphia, and which, from its title, Select Reviews, would appear to have been of an eclectic character. Its name was changed to the Azialectic Magazzite during his management, which extended through the years 1813 and 1814, and it bade fair to be successful, until its propri- etor was ruined by the failure of the New York publishers of “Salmagundi.” Irving's contribu- * ! | l tions to this dead and gone old periodical con- sisted of critical notices of new works by En- glish and American authors; among others one by his friend Paulding, who had dropped into poetry with a “Lay of the Scottish Fiddle”; of a series of biographies of the naval heroes of our second war with England; and of a revised and enlarged memoir of the poet Campbell, which he had written at the request of his “brother a year or two before, to accompany an American edition of his poetical works. Irving signed off what was owing to him, and peace with England being declared shortly after, he departed for Europe for the second time on the 25th of May, 1815. He was a partner in a mer- cantile house, which his brothers Peter and Ebenezer had started in Liverpool, and it was quite as much to assist the former, who was in ill-health, as to divert himself, that he undertook the journey. He remained at Liverpool for some time, examining the affairs of “P. & E. Irving & Co.,” which had fallen into confusion on account of the sickness of his brother and the death of his principal clerk, mastering details, and learn- ing book-keeping, in order to straighten out their books. The business of the Irving brothers ended in failure, owing to a variety of causes, which there is no occasion to specify now, and the literary member of the firm turned his at- tention again to the only business for which he was really fitted. He had renewed his acquaint- ance with Alston, who was now residing in Lon- don, and had met Leslie, the artist, both of whom were making designs for a new edition of his “History of New York.” The summer of 1817 found Irving in London, whence he paid a visit to Sydenham to Camp- bell, who was simmering over his “Specimens of the English Poets,” and where he dined with Murray, the bookseller, who showed him a long letter from Byron, who was in Italy, and was cngaged on the fourth canto of “Childe Harold,” and who had told him “that he was much hap- pier after breaking with Lady Byron—he hated this still, quiet life.” From London he proceeded to Edinburgh, whence he walked out to a man- sion, which had been taken by Jeffrey, with whom he dined, after which he rattled off by the mail coach to Selkirk, and by chaise to Melrose. On his way to the latter place he stopped at the gate at Abbotsford, and sent in his letter of introduc- tion to Scott. The glorious old minstrel him- self came hobbling to the gate, and took him by the hand in a way that made him feel as if they were old friends ; in a moment he was seated at his hospitable board among his charming family. He passed two days at Abbotsford, rambling about the hills with his host, and visiting the haunts of Thomas the Rhymer, and other spots rendered classic by border tale and song, in a kind of dream. He was delighted with the char- LIFE OF WASHINGTON IRVING. *. XXI acter and manners of the great man, and it was a constant source of pleasure to him to watch his deportment toward his family, his neigh- bors, his domestics, his very dogs and cats. “It is a perfect picture to see Scott and his house- hold assembled of an evening — the dogs stretched before the fire, the cat perched on a chair, Mrs. Scott and the girls sewing, and Scott either reading out of some old romance, or tell- ing border stories. Our amusements were oc- casionally diversified by a border song from Sophia, who is as well versed in border min- strelsy as her father.” This pilgrimage to Ab- botsford, which is described at length in the fifth volume of Lockhart’s “Life of Scott,” brought about by Campbell. “When you see Tom Campbell,” Scott wrote to one of his friends, “tell him, with my best love, that I have to thank him for making me known to Mr. Washington Irving, who is one of the best and plcasantest acquaintances I have made this many a day.” The house of the Irving brothers succeeded so ill in England that the two resident partners Peter and Washington, finally made up thei minds to go into bankruptcy. The necessary proceedings occupied some months, during which time the latter shut himself up from Society, and studied German day and night, partly in the hope that it would be some service, to him, and partly to keep off uncomfortablº thoughts. His brother William, who was in Congress, had exerted himself to have him made Secretary of Legation at the Court of St. James, but in vain ; and his friend, Commodore Decatur, had kept a place for him in the Navy Board, the salary of which would enable him to live in Washington like a prince. He concluded not to accept it, however, greatly to the chagrin of his brothers, but to remain abroad, and battle with fortune on his own account. So he went up to London again in the summer of 1818, to see if he could not live by his pen. Nearly nine years had elapsed since the pub- lication of the “History of New York,” and with the exception of his reviews and biographies in the Aztalectic Magazine, he had written nothing. His mercantile connection with his brothers had. proved disastrous to them as well as to himself, and he was now dependent on his own exertions. If there is anything in experience that fits one for literature, he was better fitted for it than ever- before. He had passed through troubles which had deepened his knowledge of life, having lost his father, who died shortly before the completion: of “Salmagundi,” and his mother, who died about ten years later, and whose death was. still fresh in his memory. Between these two sorrows came the tragedy which darkened his young manhood, and was never forgotten—the death of Matilda Hoffman, the young lady to W2LS . * * xxll * whom he was attached, who closed her brief ex- istence at the age of eighteen, while he was com- posing the amusing annals of Mr. Diedrich Knickerbocker. He was a bold American who would dare to attempt at that time to live by authorship in his own country, which had known but one professional author, Charles Brockden Brown, who had died about eight years before, at the early age of thirty-nine ; but he was a bolder American who would dare to attempt the same hazardous feat in England. Such a man was Irving, who settled down in London in his thirty-sixth year, to see if he could earn his living by his pen. His capital was the practice he already possessed, and some unfinished sketches, upon which he had been engaged, pre- cisely when, or where, we are not told. He set to work on these sketches, with the intention of issuing them in numbers as a periodical publica- tion, and when he had finished enough to make the first number he dispatched the manuscript across the Atlantic to his brother Ebenezer, in Feb- ruary, 1819. It was put to press under the title “The Sketch-Book of Geoffrey Crayon,” and published in May, simultaneously in New York, Boston, Philadelphia and Baltimore. It con- tained six papers, or sketches, of which the per- ennial Rip Van Winkle soon became a general favorite. There was an immediate demand for “The Sketch-Book,” for as one of Irving's critics observed, the honor of our national literature was so associated with his name, that the pride as well as the better ſeelings of his countrymen, were interested in accumulating the gifts of his genius. He was congratulated on resuming the pen, in the Analectic, by his friend Gulian C. Verplanck (who, by the way, had not taken kindly to his Knickerbocker), who saw in every page his rich, and sometimes extravagant humor, his gay and graceful fancy, his peculiar choice and felicity of original expression, as well as the pure and fine moral feeling which imperceptibly pervaded every thought and image. The second number, which was finished before the publica- tion of the first, was enriched by the exquisite paper on Rural Life in England, and the pathetic story of The Broken Heart. Mr. Richard Henry Dana wrote of the former, in the AVor//. Amerz.cazz Revzezw, that it left its readers as restored and cheerful as if they had been passing an hour or two in the very fields and woods themselves; and that his scenery was so true, so full of little beautiful particulars, and so varied, and yet so connected in character, that the distant was brought nigh, and the whole was seen and felt iike a delightful reality. A copy of this number was placed by one of Irving's friends in the hands of William Godwin, the famous author of “Caleb Williams,” who, found everywhere in it the marks of a mind of the utmost elegance and refinement (a thing, you know, that he was not exactly pre- LIFE OF wash.INGTON IRVINC. - i pared to look for in an American), and he was pleased to say that he searcely knew an English- man who could have written it. Another English- man was of the same gracious opinion as this illustrious novelist—Mr. William Jerdan, the ed- itor of the London Zzzerary Gazette, who began to reprint the first number of “The Sketch-Book” in his periodical, which was somehow regarded as an authority in literature. A copy of the third . number, which was published in America in Sep-" tember, reached England, and came into the possession of a London publisher, who was con- sidering the propriety of bringing out the whole work. This determined Irving to revise the numbers that he had already published, that they might, at least, come before the English public correctly, and he accordingly took them to Murray, with whom he left them for examina- tion, stating that he had materials on hand for a second volume. The great man declined to engage in their publication, because he did not see “that scope in the nature of it to make satisfac- tory accounts” between them ; but he offered to do what he could to promote their circulation, and was ready to attend to any future plan of his. Irving then bethought himself of Scott, to whom he sent the printed numbers, with a letter, in which he observed that a reverse had taken place in his affairs since he had the pleasure of en- joying his hospitality, which made the exercise of his pen important to him. He soon received a reply from Scott, who spoke very highly of his talents, and offered him the editorship of an Anti-Jacobin periodical, which had been pro- jected at Edinburgh, the salary of which would be £500 a year certain, with the reasonable pros- pect of further advantages. When the parcel reached him, as it did at Edinburgh, he added, in a postscript, “I am just here, and have glanced over the Sketch-Book; it is positively beautiful, and increases my desire to crim? you if possible.” Irving immediately declined the editorship pro- posed to him, feeling peculiarly unfitted for the post, and being as useless for regular service as one of his country Indians or a Don Cossack. Having by this time concluded to print the book at his own risk, he found no difficulty in finding a publisher, who was unlucky enough to fail just as it was getting into fair circulation. Scott came up to London at this juncture, for the pur- pose of receiving his baronetcy, and he called upon Murray, who now saw “that scope in the nature " of the Sketch-Book which it had lackcd before, and who printed an edition of the first volume, and put the second volume to press, and so became Irving's publisher. The “Sketch-Book” put four hundred pounds in the pocket of Irving, and made him famous, Jeffrey wrote of it in the Edinburgh Review. that he had seldom scen a work that gave him a more pleasing impression of the writer's char. i * LIFE OF WASHINGTON IRVING. Acter, or a more favorable one of his judgment and taste ; Lockhart declared in Blackwood that “Mr. Washington Irving is one of our first favor- ites among the English writers of this age, and he is not a bit the less so for being born in Ame:ica;” and Mrs. Siddons gave it the seal of her authc rity, and intimidated Irving, when he was introduced to her, by saying, in her most tragic way, “You’ve made me weep.” Byron, who read all the new works of the time with avidity, wrote to his and Irving's publisher, Mur- ray, “Crayon is very good;” and shortly before his death waxed eloquent in his praise to a young American, who had called upon him, and who, at his request, had brought him a copy of the “Sketch-Book.” “I handed it to him, when, seiz- ing it with enthusiasm, he turned to the “Broken Heart.’ ‘That,” said he, “is one of the finest things ever written on earth, and I want to hear an American read it. But stay—do you know Irving P’ I replied that I had never seen him. ‘God bless him 1' exclaimed Byron: “He is a genius; and he has something better than genius—a heart. I wish I could see him, but I fear I never shall. Well, read the “Broken Heart”—yes, the “Broken Heart.” What a word l’ In closing the first paragraph, I said, ‘Shall I confess it P I do believe in broken hearts.’ ‘Yes,’ exclaimed Byron, “and so do I, and so does everybody but philosophers and fools P’ While I was reading one of the most touching portions of that mournful piece, I observed that Byron wept. He turned his eyes upon me, and said, ‘You see me weep, sir. Irving himself never wrote that story without weeping; nor can I hear it without tears. I have not wept much in this world, for trouble never brings tears to my eyes, but I always have tears for the “Broken Heart.”” He concluded by praising the verses of Moore at the end of the story, and asking if there were many such men as Irving in America? “God don't send many such spirits into this world.’” The lives of authors are not often interesting, apart from the light which they shed upon their writings, and the life of Irving was not, I think, an exception to the rule. What it was hitherto we have seen, and what it was hereafter I shall show, though not in its details, which were neither striking nor important. Five years had now elapsed since he left America, and twelve more years were to elapse before he re- turned to it. He had published his third book, and had made a name for himself in England; in other words, he had found his true vocation, and it would be his own fault if he did not pursue it with honor and profit. The summer of 1820 found him in Paris with his brother Peter, and before the close of the year he had made the acquaintance of Moore, the poet, who was sporting in exile in France, while his friends were trying to settle a claim which the English * { * * r * sº “, * * * * J. jºr $ g # 8 Government had against hiſm, on account cf the defalcation of the deputy who had filled, in his place, the office of Registrar of the Admiralty Court of Bermuda, to which he had been appoint ed about seventeen years before. Moore jotted down in his Diary that they met at the table d’hôte, at Meurice's (the most expensive hotel in Paris), and that the successful author was “a good-looking and intelligent-mannered man.” Seven days iater they met at Moore's cottage in the Champs Elysées, and scarcely a day passed without their seeing each other. Moore was trying to work, now on his Life of Sheridan, and now on an Egyptian romance, but it was the merest pretence, as his Diary bears witness; for he notes, in one entry, that he had been no less than five weeks in writing one hundred and ninety-two lines of verse; and in another, when he thought he had been more industrious, that he had written nearly fifty lines in a week. The fertility of Irving, who wrote with ease, when he could write at all, astonished him. “Irving called near dinner time,” he wrote on March 19th, 1821; “asked him to stay and share our roast chicken with us, which he did. He has been hard at work writing lately; in the course of ten days he has written about one hundred and thirty pages of the size of those in the ‘Sketch- Book;' this is amazing rapidity.” Another writer was in exile in France at this time, a fellow townsman of Irving, John Howard Payne, who had taken the critics of New York by storm when he played Young Norval at the Park Theatre; who had gone to England about two years before Irving, where he became a dramatic author, with some success, and a manager, with none at all; and who is now chiefly remembered by the song of “Home, Sweet Home.” London growing too small for him, he escaped to Paris, where Irving breakfasted with him, after which they paid a visit to Talma together. A whim for travelling, which frequently seized him, sent Irving back to London in the summer of 1821, with no definite object in view, unless it was to see his friends, and the approaching coronation of George the Fourth. He was fortunate enough to witness the procession from a stand on the outside of Westminster Abbey, and to meet with Scott, who told him that he should have seen it from within the Abbey, which he might easily have done, as his name would have got him in anywhere. He brought over with him a petite comedy of Payne's, with the ominous title of “The Borrower,” and made a fruitless attempt to have it produced on the stage. He also brought over the manuscript of a new book, his speed in writing which had so amazed Moore, and worked upon it when he was in the humor. When it was finished, which was not until the followir g winter, he was waited *~ Ar XIV apon by Colburn, the publisher, with a letter of introduction from Campbell, and an offer of a thousand guineas. He was not inclined to leave Murray, who had treated him very handsomely, and was anxious to publish another book for him. I; wing named the price he wished—fifteen hundred guineas, which rather staggered the prince of booksellers. “If you had said a thou- sand guineas,” he began. “You shall have it for a thousand guineas,” replied Irving, and the bargain was completed. Concerning Irving's fourth book, “Bracebridge Hall,” which was published in England and America in May, 1832, critical opinions differed. The Worth American Review for July, speaking in the person of Mr. Edward Everett, its editor, had no hesitation in pronouncing it equal to any- thing which the then age of English literature had produced in the department of essay- writing, and praised it for its admirable sketches of life and manners, highly curious in them- selves, and rendered almost important by the good-natured mock gravity, the ironical rever- ence, and lively wit with which they were de- scribed. Jeffrey recognized the singular sweet- ness of the composition, and the mildness of the sentiments, but thought the rhythm and melody of the sentences excessive, in that they wore an air of mannerism, and created an impression of the labor that must have been bestowed upon what was but a secondary attribute of good writing. Wearied by his London liſe, Irving started on a tour on the Continent, which lasted about a month, and which finally brought up at Paris. He was not in trim for composition when he settled down again, but was haunted by the dread of future failure, a kind of nervous horror which frequently overpowered him. His poetic friend, Moore, had returned to England, where he had been delivered of his “Loves of the Angels,” but his dramatic friend, Payne, was still an exile in Paris, and was the tenant of two residences, one of which, in the Rue Richclieu, he rented to Irving. He succeeded in persuad- ing Irving to join him in his dramatic under- takings, one of which, already far advanced, was “La Jeunesse de Richelieu,” a French play, which had been acted about thirty years before. They were to divide the profits, if there were any, and Irving's share in the projected manufac- tures was to be kept secret. They must have worked with great rapidity, for in addition to the play just mentioned they completed a trans- lation of another, entitled “Azendai,” which was intended to be set to music; besides two others, “Belles and Bailiffs,” and “Married and Single,” uot forgetting “Abul Hassan,” a German opera, which Irving had done into English at Dresden. Laden with these productions, Payne set off pri- wately for London, from which he was debarred by *** 2. * LIFE OF WASHINGTON IRVING. . his creditors, and put himself in communication with Charles Kemble. While he was under- going the delay incident to acceptance or rejec- tion, Irving transmitted to him the manuscript of “Charles II., or the Merry Monarch " a three act comedy, from the French of “La Jeunesse dº Henri V.,” of which, as far as I can understand. he was nearly, if not quite, the sole author, or adapter. It was sold by F yne to Covent Garden Theatre for two hundred guineas, together with “La Jeunesse de Richelieu,” and was produced in the following spring (May, 1824) with great success. “La Jeunesse de Richelieu " was pro- duced nearly two years later, and withdrawn after a few nights. Literary activity returned to Irving during this curious dramatic episode in his career, stimula- ted, no doubt, by a letter from Murray, who asked him what he might expect from him in the course of the winter. He replied that he should probably have two more volumes of the “Sketch-Book” ready by spring, and began to write the story of Wolfert Webber, which he soon laid aside. His journal chronicles the progress of his labor, which proceeded at a rapid rate, in spite of his dinings out, hastened, per- haps, by the title which he found for his new work, “Tales of a Traveller,” and by Murray's offering twelve hundred guineas for it, without seeing the manuscript. When it was finished he took it over to London, where he met Murray, “who behaved like a gentleman,” 2. e., gave him fifteen hundred guineas for it, as well as several celebrities, including William Spencer, Proctor Rogers, and Moore, the last of whom went with him to Bowood, the seat of Lord Lansdowne. He was not brilliant as a conversationist at this time, whatever he may have been later, for Moore notes in his Diary that at two dinners which he mentions, he was sleepy, and did not open his mouth, and adds, curtly, “Not strong as a lion, but delightful as a domestic animal.” The “Tales of a Traveller” appeared in two volumes in England, and in America in four parts. It sold well in the former country; but it can hardly be said to have been a literary suc- cess in either, especially in the latter, where the press were hostile to it. Wilson, speaking through the mouth of Timothy Tickler, in J3/ackzwood, said, “I have been terribly disap- pointed in the ‘Tales of a Traveller;” and the reviewer of the London Quarterly, though he praises the story of Buckthorne, from which he thought it probable that he might, as a novelist, prove no contemptible rival to Goldsmith, warns him that he must in future be true to his own reputation throughout, and correct the habits of indolence, which so considerable a part of the work evince. Irving's next intellectual labor after his return to France, was the planning of a Series of papers the proper execution of which demanded, I think, a weightier pen than he possessed, Con- sisting, as it did, of serious essays upon American, Manners, National Life, Public Prosperity, Probity of Dealings, Education of Youth, and such like grave and momentous problems. He 's as interrupted in the writing by a letter from Mr. Alexander H. Everett, Minister Plenipoten- tiary of the United States at Madrid, whom he had previously met at Paris, and who had, at his request, attached him to the embassy. This letter contained his passport, and a proposition from Mr. Everett that he should translate Navar- rete’s “Voyages of Columbus,” which was then in the press. It was compiled by this accom- plished scholar from the papers of Columbus, as preserved by the famous Bishop Las Casas, and of extracts from his journal ; and it con- tained, as Irving found shortly after his arrival at Madrid, many documents hitherto unknown, which threw additional light on the discovery of the New World ; but was defective as a whole (at any rate for his purpose), in that it was rather a rich mass for history, than history itself. He abandoned, therefore, the idea of translating it, and began to institute fresh researches on his own account, examining manuscripts, and taking voluminous notes for a regular Life of the great navigator. Irving commenced his task in February, 1826, and labored upon it unceasingly for six months, sºmetimes writing all day, and until twelve at night. His attention was diverted from it in . August by the “Conquest of Granada,” which so interested him that he devoted himself to it till November, when he threw aside the rough draft, and returned to his greater work, which was not ready for the press until July of the following year. Leslie had sounded Murray about the letter before it was begun, but the wily publisher fought shy at first. “He would gladly,” he says, “re- ceive anything from you of original matter, which he considers certain of success, whatever it might be ; but with regard to the Voyages of Columbus, he can not form any opinion at present.” When the manuscript was finished Irving sent it to England, to the care of his friend, Colonel Aspinwall, American Consul at London, whom he made his agent in the dis- posal of it, and wrote a letter to Murray, in which he stated the sum he wanted for it—three thousand guineas; but also stated that he would be willing to publish on shares. Colonel As- pinwall played his cards so well that Murray con- claded not to publish it on shares, but to pay the three tho Asand guineas out and out. The manu- Script was shown to Southey, who pronounced tne most unqualified praise of it, both as to matter and manrer; and Murray himself said it was beautiful, beautiful—the best thing that Irving had ever written. LIFE OF WASHINGTON IRVING. * XX By the publication of “The Life and Voyages of Columbus,” in 1828, the popularity of Irving which had waned somewhat since the day when he first burst upon the world of English readers in his “Sketch-Book,” rose anew, and shone with greater lustre. The importance of the work. was recognized on both sides of the water, as well as the brilliancy of its execution. Jeffrey who reviewed it in the Edinburgh, declared that it was not only excellent, but that it would en- dure. “For we mean,” he explained, “not merely that the book will be known and referred to twenty or thirty years hence, and will pass in solid binding into every considerable collection ; but that it will supersede all former works on the same subject, and never be itself superseded.” Not less enthusiastic was the carefully considered opinion of Irving's friend, Everett, who origi- nally suggested the translation from Navarrete out of which it had grown, and who pronounced it, in the AVorth Amerzcant ſeezyzew, one of the few books which are at once the delight of read- ers and the despair of critics. “It is as nearly perfect as any work can be ; and there is little or nothing left for the reviewer but to write at the bottom of every page, as Voltaire said he would be obliged to do if he published a com- mentary on Racine, “Pulchré / bene / offéâmé /' He has at length filled up the void that before existed in this respect, in the literature of the world, and produced a work which will fully satisfy the public, and supersede the necessity of any future labors in the same field. While we venture to predict that the adventures of Co- lumbus will hereafter be read only in the work of Mr. Irving, we can not but think it a beautiful co- incidence that the task of duly celebrating the achievements of the discoverer of our continent should have been reserved for one of its inhabit- ants; and that the earliest professed author of first- rate talent who appeared among us should have devoted one of his most important and finished works to this pious purpoše. ‘Such honors Ilion to her hero paid, And peaceful slept the mighty Hector's shade.” For the particular kind of historical writing in which Mr. Irving is fitted to labor and excel, the ‘Life of Columbus' is undoubtedly one of the very best—perhaps we might say, without fear of any mistake, the very best—subject afforded by the annals of the world.” The magnitude of the task which he had com- pleted so satisfactorily, left Irving leisure to make a tour which he had planned with his brother Peter, but the ill-health of that gentle- man, who now returned by slow stages to Paris, compelled him to forego the pleasure of his com- pany, and to replace it by the company of two Rus- sian diplomatists, with whom he set out on March 1st, by the diligence for Cordova. 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