The Water-Witch; Or, the Skimmer of the Seas: A TaleCooper, James Fenimore
General
The Water-Witch; Or, the Skimmer of the Seas: A Tale
Cooper, James Fenimore
Sea stories
The consequences of so unusual a concurrence of favorable
circumstances, are well known. A vigorous, healthful, and continued
growth, that has no parallel even in the history of this extraordinary
and fortunate country, has already raised the insignificant provincial
town of the last century to the level of the second-rate cities of the
other hemisphere. The New-Amsterdam of this continent already rivals
its parent of the other; and, so far as human powers may pretend to
predict, a few fleeting years will place her on a level with the
proudest capitals of Europe.
It would seem that, as Nature has given its periods to the stages of
animal life, it has also set limits to all moral and political
ascendency. While the city of the Medici is receding from its crumbling
walls, like the human form shrinking into “the lean and slipper’d
pantaloon,” the Queen of the Adriatic sleeping on her muddy isles, and
Rome itself is only to be traced by fallen temples and buried columns,
the youthful vigor of America is fast covering the wilds of the West
with the happiest fruits of human industry.
By the Manhattanese, who is familiar with the forest of masts, the
miles of wharves, the countless villas, the hundred churches, the
castles, the smoking and busy vessels that crowd his bay, the daily
increase and the general movement of his native town, the picture we
are about to sketch will scarcely be recognized. He who shall come a
generation later will probably smile, that subject of admiration should
have been found in the existing condition of the city: and yet we shall
attempt to carry the recollections of the reader but a century back, in
the brief history of his country.
As the sun rose on the morning of the 3d of June 171-, the report of a
cannon was heard rolling along the waters of the Hudson. Smoke issued
from an embrasure of a small fortress, that stood on the point of land
where the river and the bay mingle their waters. The explosion was
followed by the appearance of a flag, which, as it rose to the summit
of its staff and unfolded itself heavily in the light current of air,
showed the blue field and red cross of the English ensign. At the
distance of several miles, the dark masts of a ship were to be seen,
faintly relieved by the verdant background of the heights of Staten
Island. A little cloud floated over this object, and then an answering
signal came dull and rumbling to the town. The flag that the cruiser
set was not visible in the distance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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