Writers of Knickerbocker New York

by Hamilton Wright Mabie

Of smutty jokes, to catch a gallery roar.

Or see, more fatal, graced with every art

To charm and captivate the female heart,

The false, “the gallant, gay Lothario” smiles,

And loudly boasts his base seductive wiles—

In glowing colors paints Calista’s wrongs,

And with voluptuous scenes the tale prolongs.

The stage of social development at which the town had arrived is indicated by the words “female heart.” Its old-fashioned virtue, assailed by “Lalla Rookh” and “The Penitents,” had, fortunately, no premonitions that its infancy in the dramatization of vice was to pass into the full and voluptuous maturity of these later days of the play of passion without a shred to its back.

“Salmagundi” had made the town smile, but “A History of New York” was so broad in its mock-heroic treatment of the local forefathers that it gave grievous offence to those members of the early Dutch families who lacked the sense of humor. An old gentleman who died twenty years ago once said to the writer of these lines, with perfect gravity, that Mr. Irving once confessed to him that the history was not entirely accurate! It appeared just before Christmas in 1809, preceded by cunningly devised hints and intimations in the form of letters, asking for information about a certain old gentleman who bore the name of Knickerbocker, who was last seen resting himself near Kingsbridge by the passengers in the Albany stage. He had a small bundle tied in a red bandana handkerchief in his hands, and appeared to be very much fatigued. Ten days passed without news of the whereabouts of this weary old gentleman, when it was announced that a book in his handwriting had been discovered in his room and would be disposed of to pay the arrears of his board and lodging!

The town became immensely interested, and when the History appeared it was eagerly read, laughed over, and denounced. Never was a book more cleverly announced even in this day, when advertising has become an art based on a deep study of the psychology of the crowd and the effect on the human mind of rhythmical recurrence, at short intervals, of skilfully phrased testimonials from eminent persons to the superiority of certain articles without which it is impossible to live. There were eighty thousand people in New York, and the society folk who constituted the “town” in the technical sense of the word were a comparatively small and homogeneous group, many of whom were of Dutch descent and bore names long honored in the city and now inscribed on the signs on the corners of the streets. The History, originally projected as a satire on a solemn and heavy-handed “Picture of New York” which had recently appeared, had widened its scope, and, like “The History of the Adventures of Joseph Andrews,” which started out to be a travesty on Richardson’s “Pamela,” took on the dimensions of an original contribution to literature. The dedication “To the New York Historical Society” struck the key-note of its burlesque gravity of manner and its audacious and rollicking fun. Its appearance was the signal for a blaze of wrath accompanied by a peal of laughter from New York to Albany. Mrs. Hoffman wrote to Irving, referring to one of his friends who was a social leader: “Your good friend, the old lady, came home in a great stew this evening. Such a scandalous story had got about town—a book had come out called a ‘History of New York’; nothing but a satire and ridicule of the old Dutch people—and they said you was the author; but from this foul slander, I’ll venture to say, she has defended you. She was quite in a heat about it.”