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Updated: June 14, 2025
"Tell Admiral Diedrich, with my compliments, that he must obtain permits, and that if a German ship breaks the blockade lines without one it spells war, for I shall fire on the first vessel that attempts it." The flag officer went back with the message, and Admiral Diedrich took his ships, which were greatly inferior in number to those of the Americans, out of the harbour.
He was dressed in an untanned buffalo jacket, also a buffalo belt upon his hips from which was hanging a bunch of keys and a short knife. In his right hand he held a membrane-covered lantern; in the other, a small kettle and a torch. "Are you ready?" inquired Zygfried. Diedrich bowed silently. "I gave orders for you to bring with you a kettle with coal in it."
Diedrich thought that the count was talking to him; he therefore lifted up his lantern and threw its light upon his face which had a terrible and cadaverous appearance, but at the same time it looked like the head of an old vulture. "Lead on," said Zygfried. Diedrich lowered the lantern again which cast upon the snow a yellow circle of light and they proceeded.
Diedrich again bowed in silence, but his face was drawn on account of the terrible, ominous recollection; for his tongue was torn out for quite another reason than what Zygfried said. "Now proceed, and lead to the underground cell where Jurand is." The executioner grasped the handle of the kettle with his gigantic hand, picked up the lantern and then left.
After a little while, the old count and Diedrich found themselves again in that open courtyard which was illuminated by the bright moon. When they reentered the corridor, Zygfried took the lantern from Diedrich, also a dark object wrapped up in a rag, and said to himself in a loud voice, "Now to the chapel and then to the tower."
Having been so profound a listener to others, I could not in conscience refuse; but neither my memory nor invention being ready to answer so unexpected a demand, I begged leave to read a manuscript tale from the pen of my fellow-countryman, the late Mr. Diedrich Knickerbocker, the historian of New-York.
"Nothing we see but means our good, As our delight or as our treasure; The whole is either our cupboard of food Or cabinet of pleasure." Invention and science have put a girdle about the globe fitly to decorate Christmas. Diedrich Knickerbocker, in his cocked hat and flowered coat, had heard of Japan, perhaps, as a romance of Prester John.
It is worth while to reprint, for the benefit of whom it may concern, a paragraph from the authentic history of the venerable Diedrich Knickerbocker: "The sage council, as has been mentioned in a preceding chapter, not being able to determine upon any plan for the building of their city, the cows, in a laudable fit of patriotism, took it under their peculiar charge, and as they went to and from pasture, established paths through the bushes, on each side of which the good folks built their houses; which is one cause of the rambling and picturesque turns and labyrinths, which distinguish certain streets of New York at this very day."
Of these mutineers the most eminent was Diedrich Sonoy, governor of North Holland, a soldier of much experience, sagacity, and courage, who had rendered great services to the cause of liberty and Protestantism, and had defaced it by acts of barbarity which had made his name infamous.
It has been said of another hotel at Bar Harbor that "Anyone can stay there who is worth two millions of dollars, or can produce a certificate from the Recorder of New York that he is a direct descendant of Hendrik Hudson or Diedrich Knickerbocker." Many other American hotels suggest themselves to me as sufficiently individual in character to discriminate them from the ruck.
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