Knickerbocker's History of New York, Complete eBook
Washington Irving
The burghers gazed at it for a time in silent awe,
as a wary housewife does at a gun, fearful it may
go off half-cocked. The document in question
had a sinister look, it is true; it was crabbed in
text, and from a broad red ribbon dangled the great
seal of the province, about the size of a buckwheat
pancake. Herein, however, existed the wonder of
the invention. The document in question was a
proclamation, ordering the Yankees to depart instantly
from the territories of their High Mightinesses, under
pain of suffering all the forfeitures and punishments
in such case made and provided. It was on the
moral effect of this formidable instrument that Wilhelmus
Kieft calculated; pledging his valor as a governor
that, once fulminated against the Yankees, it would
in less than two months drive every mother’s
son of them across the borders.
The council broke up in perfect wonder, and nothing
was talked of for some time among the old men and
women of New Amsterdam but the vast genius of the
governor and his new and cheap mode of fighting by
proclamation.
As to Wilhelmus Kieft, having dispatched his proclamation
to the frontiers, he put on his cocked hat and corduroy
small clothes, and, mounting a tall, raw-boned charger,
trotted out to his rural retreat of Dog’s Misery.
Here, like the good Numa, he reposed from the toils
of state, taking lessons in government, not from the
nymph Egeria, but from the honored wife of his bosom,
who was one of that class of females, sent upon the
earth a little after the flood, as a punishment for
the sins of mankind, and commonly known by the appellation
of knowing women. In fact, my duty as an historian
obliges me to make known a circumstance which was
a great secret at the time, and consequently was not
a subject of scandal at more than half the tea tables
in New Amsterdam, but which, like many other great
secrets, has leaked out in the lapse of years; and
this was, that Wilhelmus the Testy, though one of
the most potent little men that ever breathed, yet
submitted at home to a species of government, neither
laid down in Aristotle or Plato; in short, it partook
of the nature of a pure, unmixed tyranny, and is familiarly
denominated petticoat government. An absolute
sway, which, although exceedingly common in these modern
days, was very rare among the ancients, if we may
judge from the rout made about the domestic economy
of honest Socrates, which is the only ancient case
on record.
The great Kieft, however, warded off all the sneers
and sarcasms of his particular friends, who are ever
ready to joke with a man on sore points of the kind,
by alleging that it was a government of his own election,
to which he submitted through choice; adding, at the
same time, a profound maxim which he had found in
an ancient author, that “he who would aspire
to govern should first learn to obey.”