L I B R I S 
 
 IRENE DWEN PACE
 
 The Ghosts 
 of their 
 
 Anceftors
 
 
 " Those ancestry books are a standard 
 joke with us. "
 
 GKofts of 
 
 Caroline gf Courttandt Street" 
 Pictures &v JoKn
 
 Copyright, 1906, by 
 Fox Duffield s? Company 
 
 Published, March, 1 906 
 
 The Trow Press, N. Y.
 
 lo American Ladies S-Gentlemea 
 
 Quality 
 
 proicious 
 r O 
 
 5038944
 
 Co 
 
 Minerva 
 
 and 
 Virginia
 
 Pictures 
 
 " Those ancestry books are a stand 
 ard joke with US " Frontispiece 
 
 Facing page 
 
 " How lovely she is, Juma!" 18 
 
 <f My Julie saw them kissing less 
 than an hour ago on the ma 
 rine parade " 80 
 
 " The lady of the banished portrait 
 was moving through the door 
 way " 1 10
 
 HERE was a 
 clanging, 
 brassy melody 
 upon the air. 
 For three 
 score years 
 since York of 
 the Scarlet 
 Coats died, 
 and the tune 
 "God Save 
 the King" 
 floated for 
 the last time out of tavern door 
 and mansion window, the bells of 
 3
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 old St. Paul s had begun their 
 ringing like this : 
 
 " Loud and full voiced at eight 
 o clock sends good cheer abroad," 
 said the tottering sexton. "Softer 
 and softer, as folks turn into bed, 
 and faint and sweet at midnight, 
 when our dear Lord rises with the 
 dawn." Cheery bells full of hope 
 gentle chimes, as if the holy 
 mother were dreaming of her 
 babe. Joyous, jingling, jangling 
 bells ! Through the town their 
 tones drifted, over the thousands of 
 slate-colored roofs, now insistent on 
 the Broadway, now lessening a lit 
 tle in some long winding alley, and 
 then finally dying away on the bare 
 Lispenard Meadows. 
 4
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 Vesey Street the gentry street 
 heard them first. The bigwigs 
 in the long ago, with the help of 
 Gracious George, built the church, 
 and who had a better right than 
 their children to its voices. Calm 
 and serene lay Vesey Street with its 
 rows of leafing elms. Over the 
 dim confusion of architectural 
 forms slipped the moonlight in 
 silver ribbons, seeming to make 
 sport of the grave, smug faces of 
 the antiquated domiciles. Like a 
 line of deserted dowagers waiting 
 for some recalcitrant Sir Roger de 
 Coverley, they stood scowling at 
 one another. No longer linkboys 
 and running footmen stuck brave 
 lights into the well-painted ex- 
 5
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 tinguishers at each doorstep. No 
 longer fashion fluttered to their 
 gates. The gallants who had been 
 wont to pass them with, " Lud ! 
 what a pretty house ! " were most 
 of them asleep now on the green 
 breast of mother England, forget 
 ful of that wide thoroughfare, 
 which had never reckoned life 
 without them. 
 
 Into the parlor of Knicker 
 bocker House, dubbed Knicker 
 bocker Mansion some years after 
 the bibulous Sir William Howe had 
 laid down his sceptre as ruler of the 
 town, the chorus of bells crashed. 
 
 "What a dastardly noise ! " cried 
 Jonathan Knickerbocker, throwing 
 his newspaper over his head. " Can 
 6
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 this Easter time never be kept with 
 out an infernal bell bombilation ? 
 I shall call a meeting of the vestry 
 that idiot Jenkins should be kept 
 at home ! " 
 
 The head of the Knickerbocker 
 family turned irately in his chair 
 and glared at his daughters. Three 
 timid pairs of blinking eyes were 
 raised from short sacks in answer 
 to his challenge, then lowered 
 again over the wool. The fourth 
 and fairest daughter of the house, 
 seated on the walnut sofa in the 
 bow-window, gave no heed to his 
 vehemence but a suppressed sigh. 
 With a final snort the Gazette was 
 picked up again. The Easter mel 
 ody was waning. 
 7
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 The Knickerbocker parlor not 
 the state parlor, which had long 
 been closed was a dismal place 
 
 so large that four candles and 
 one Rumford lamp made but a 
 patch of brightness in the gloom.
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 Most of the furniture was ponder 
 ous and ugly, with two or three 
 alien little chairs that looked as if 
 
 they might once have belonged to 
 
 some light-hearted lover of the 
 
 Louis. On the almost barren 
 
 9
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 chimney-piece stood a pair of tall 
 nankeen beakers, sepulchrally rem 
 iniscent of buried Chinese years. 
 Along the walls hung a score of 
 mediocre portraits, the handiwork 
 of the usurious limner John Wat 
 son and his compatriot Hessilius. 
 Spans of sunlit days had stolen 
 every tinge of carmine from their 
 immobile and woodeny faces, leav 
 ing them the drab color of time, 
 in keeping with the room. 
 
 Above the cornice, near the sofa 
 where Patricia Knickerbocker sat, 
 hung an empty frame. The por 
 trait it contained had been ban 
 ished to the attic while her three 
 eldest sisters were still in Welling 
 ton pantalets. 
 
 10
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 "The woman looks like a Jez 
 ebel," Jonathan had sputtered. 
 "Och! that leering smile." He 
 tried to blot from his mind the 
 stray leaves he knew of her story, 
 and the disturbing thought that 
 she was of his blood. " She shall 
 not remain with the likenesses of| 
 my ancestors ! " he had told his 
 sisters, who were over from Goby 
 House. 
 
 When this descendant of the 
 Knickerbockers spoke of his pro 
 genitors he always held his head 
 a trifle more erect, and puffed out 
 his pompous figure, though, strange 
 to relate, like many another worthy 
 man of a later day having the same 
 foible, he knew very little about 
 1 1
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 them. Of course he could have 
 told you that the lady over the 
 east bookcase, wearing a blue 
 tucker and holding a spray of 
 milk-weed in her hand, was his 
 Aunt Jane; and that his father 
 was a noted New York judge, 
 the pride of three circuits. Or if 
 his digression were extended, there 
 was his trump card, one of the 
 first American Knickerbockers, la 
 belled " The Friend of Lord Corn- 
 bury ! " These were the firmest 
 rocks in his family history, to 
 which he could climb in safety, 
 thence to look down with scorn 
 on those unfortunates beneath his 
 social eminence. He was a Knick 
 erbocker, of Knickerbocker Man- 
 12
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 sion, Vesey Street, and a member 
 of one of the oldest families in 
 York and America. 
 
 Patricia, smiling little Patricia, 
 rummaging one day among the 
 dust- bins under the eaves, had 
 found the banished portrait. Ju- 
 ma, the gray-wooled negro, a com 
 paratively new member of the 
 Knickerbocker household, who 
 had appointed himself her body- 
 servant ever since his arrival at the 
 mansion, was with her. 
 
 A faithful slave to old Miss 
 Johnstone of Crown Street, Juma 
 had been forced by his mistress s 
 death into new service. He was 
 a picture of ebonized urbanity, a 
 good specimen of the vanished race 
 13
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 of Gotham blacks, gentler in man 
 ners and clearer in speech than 
 their Southern cousins. In his 
 youth he had been sent to one 
 Jean Toussaint of Elizabethtown 
 to learn the art of 
 hair-dressing. He 
 could impart much 
 knowledge of wigs 
 to a wigless age, and 
 talked in a grandiloquent fashion of 
 Spencers, Albemarles, and Lavants. 
 Many a beau peruke and macaroni 
 toupee his lithe fingers curled and 
 sprinkled with sweet flower-water. 
 The voices of the fine people who 
 were his visitors made constant 
 music in his memory, and his 
 tongue was ever ready with anec-
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 dotes of wizened beauties and un 
 crowned cavaliers. 
 
 Juma was faithful to the period 
 of his greatest splendor. Deep in 
 his heart he despised the home to 
 which freedom and poverty had 
 led him after the demise of his 
 protectress. " Gold braid on com 
 pany coat and silk stockings done 
 ravel out in dese days. Knicker 
 bockers talk quality, but dey ain t 
 got quality mannahs Missy Patsy 
 is de only one of dem with tone." 
 
 He loved to listen to the girl 
 as she tripped through the great 
 rooms, humming softly some air 
 from Lennet s " London Song- 
 Book " one of the relics of his 
 " ole Miss." Patricia always sang 
 
 15
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 on the days when her sisters were 
 visiting their aunts on the bluff. 
 Juma loved her, and during his 
 five years residence in the family 
 had many times taken her youth 
 ful mind in train with quaint 
 eighteenth - century maxims and 
 fetiches. 
 
 " De wise miss drop her fan 
 when she enters de ballroom," he 
 would say. " Den she gets de men 
 on der knees from de start." 
 
 "I wish I were invited to balls," 
 Patricia sighed. " The Kings and 
 Grahams give one or two every 
 year, but father never notices 
 them." 
 
 "Well, you jes know how to 
 behave," he chuckled. " Doan yo 
 16
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 forget de tricks your Uncle Juma 
 taught yo ." 
 
 When the two had met in the 
 attic that April day, Juma s spirits 
 were as ebullient as usual. 
 
 " How lovely she is, Juma ! See, 
 there is a blush on each cheek. 
 Her pink brocade makes me think 
 of a rose dancing in the wind." 
 
 Patricia stared into the canvas 
 face before her and the lips seemed 
 to curve themselves into the shadow 
 of a smile. " I know you were the 
 fairest one of us," she whispered, 
 " the fairest and the best." 
 
 " Dat s the real quality way of 
 holding the head," vouchsafed Ju 
 ma. "I se pow ful clined to think 
 she looks like yo , missy." And
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 then they had laughed, shut away 
 with maimed chairs, tired spinets, 
 and other voiceless things, glad to 
 have escaped from Knickerbocker 
 frowns. 
 
 It was a dismal household, that 
 of the old mansion the master 
 absorbed in his passion for wealth 
 and worship of family ; the three 
 eldest daughters, who might once 
 have had some individuality but 
 now were moulded in the form of 
 their father. "Callow old maids," 
 any individual of the lower ranks 
 of York would have dubbed them. 
 They wore little bunches of sedate 
 curls over each ear, and dressed 
 in sombre, genteel colors proper 
 to their exalted rank. On the
 
 " How lovely she is, Juma ! "
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 first day of the week they dozed 
 through a long sermon ; on its last 
 day they simpered politely at the 
 Whist Club. Fears of broken 
 jelly-moulds or of the romping 
 Patricia s next prank were the only 
 disturbers of the tranquillity of their 
 lives. Jonathan Knickerbocker was 
 their one Almighty Mirror. When 
 he labelled Mrs. Scruggins, the 
 draper s niece, a person not fit to 
 associate with, their stiff gowns 
 obediently gave forth hisses at the 
 said lady. When he prated of his 
 father s shrewdness, they nodded 
 discreet approval ; and at the mere 
 mention of the loyal friend of 
 Lord Cornbury, they bobbed like 
 grass before a gale.
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 Patricia s impressionable tem 
 perament was saved by Juma s ad 
 vent from the sirocco of dulness 
 that wafted her sisters over the lake 
 of years. His "ole Miss," a looker 
 on at the " Court of Florizel," 
 had unconsciously taught him to 
 imbibe the atmosphere surrounding 
 the Graces. A democracy could 
 not spoil her elegance, for Chester 
 field s warning was ever before her 
 eyes. She who copied the foot 
 steps of Baccelli, adored her Sterne 
 and Beattie, and though her eyes 
 grew dim, never let romance pass 
 her window unmolested, had left 
 her impress upon the mind of the 
 faithful servitor. Life to him was a 
 gay-colored picture-book, brighter 
 20
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 perhaps because he could not read 
 the printed page. All his maids 
 were cherry-ribboned and belaced; 
 all his roystering sparks clinked 
 gilded canakins. Love was ever 
 smiling on them ! For wellnigh 
 half a century he had listened to 
 tales of the gay god as he bound 
 one romance-loving woman s silken 
 tresses. Small wonder that he 
 thought the urchin ruled the 
 world ! 
 
 When the bells rested their 
 brassy throats for the first time 
 that night, and Jonathan Knicker 
 bocker could take up his West 
 Indies accounts undisturbed, giving 
 his daughters freedom to doze in 
 21
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 peace, " Miss Patsy " stole on tip 
 toe from the room. She wanted to 
 be alone. Juma, ambling through 
 the dim hall to his pantry, caught 
 sight of her fluttering garments, 
 but did not speak. Only an hour 
 or two before, he had placed in the 
 chamber where she slept a bunch 
 of arbutus which young Sheridan, 
 the organist, had given into his 
 keeping. The wild, sweet-scented 
 flower grew in but one spot near 
 the town an island in the centre 
 of the Woodbridge Swamp, where 
 Captain Kidd in a freak of fancy 
 had planted it over the body of a 
 comrade, tradition said, and no one 
 ever disputed the story. To reach 
 it, even the most sure-footed ran 
 
 22
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 the danger of being caught in the 
 bog. 
 
 Patricia wondered as she mount 
 ed the stairs how her lover had been 
 able to come with her gift unseen. 
 The watching negro smiled sadly 
 and shook his head when the last 
 bit of her garment disappeared 
 over the staircase like a white 
 moth moving treeward. 
 
 Oh, how terrible it was never 
 to see him in her father s house ! 
 Never to have seen him alone, only 
 that one time, after twilight ser 
 vice, when she had stolen a meet 
 ing at the Battery, while her family 
 were taking their Sabbath-day ride 
 up the Bowery Road! 
 
 The old vehicle held but six, 
 23
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 and as the aunts always rode home 
 with their brother, Patricia was 
 left to the escort of Juma, custodian 
 of the prayer-books. By the clump 
 of protecting boxwood at the end 
 of the Marine Parade she had come 
 upon him. The sea held his eyes 
 until there was no mistaking the 
 footsteps. Her approaching crino 
 line made soft little rustles, as if 
 entreating him to leave his musings. 
 Her body-guard s shuffles, too, were 
 unmistakable. Like some young 
 potentate her lover turned about, 
 describing an elaborate bow with 
 his white castor. The very pict 
 ure of starched tranquillity he 
 looked, but underneath the blue 
 hammer-tail coat a heart was beat- 
 24
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 ing wildly, as she, made wise by 
 love, knew well for her own was 
 its echo. 
 
 There was a brief moment while 
 she watched the color mount to 
 his sun-bronzed face, the blue eyes 
 glow, the strong form quiver ever 
 so slightly. Then her lips framed 
 " Richard " the key of the uni 
 verse. "Patricia!" came the answer. 
 
 Juma, from his discreet distance* 
 heard her compared to the magno 
 lia worn on the lapel of the coat 
 she admired so much. In her 
 white and fragrant young woman 
 hood she was like it from sheer in 
 accessibility. The flower expressed 
 her character and position Patricia 
 Knickerbocker, a daughter of the
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 autocrat of York. When he men 
 tioned her father s name the girl 
 shivered. An invisible wall seemed 
 to rise between them. Then the 
 feeling died away. Her soul grew 
 wider awake each moment her 
 lover gazed at her. 
 
 As he drew her closer to him 
 Juma s figure in the background 
 bent over a flower in the path. 
 
 " Let em kiss," he mumbled. 
 "Ole Miss used to say de female 
 dat never lub am a sour pippin, 
 and dere s enough ter start a vine 
 gar press in dis family." 
 
 " You ll not permit them to take 
 you away from me? You will be 
 mine forever and ever?" said the 
 youth. 
 
 26
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 A sigh of happiness answered 
 him. 
 
 " I know I m poor, Patricia, 
 and my family can never equal 
 yours." 
 
 "Don t! "she whispered. "What 
 does it matter, what does anything 
 matter only that I m here with 
 you!" 
 
 " See the night creeping in off 
 there, dear heart. It holds noth 
 ing more wonderful than this mo 
 ment." 
 
 " How black the water looks," 
 she faltered. 
 
 " I will go to your father and 
 demand your hand." She was 
 trembling. 
 
 " You do not know what a 
 27
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 Knickerbocker is an awful crea 
 ture with a hundred gorgon heads 
 constantly leering and preach 
 ing ; detecting flaws in other peo 
 ple s families. One head will tell 
 you that you play the organ in 
 St. Paul s, and another may see 
 that your coat is a trifle worn. 
 We re not the only clan of them 
 in the land." 
 
 " We must not fear them not 
 to-night, when love is rilling the 
 world." 
 
 " Only one of my grandmothers 
 married for love, and she was 
 thought to be disgraced." 
 
 "You will follow her?" he 
 asked, a catch in his voice. 
 
 Juma was signalling for them to 
 28
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 part, and on his forehead she kissed 
 " I will ! " 
 
 Now alone on the dark stair 
 case she meditated on his words. 
 When that malignant crone, Gos 
 sip, started on her round, what 
 would happen? 
 
 Suddenly the voice of her father 
 adding up the indigo cargo fell 
 upon her ears. He would end their 
 happiness ; a man powerful enough 
 to kill the spirit of Easter in his 
 home could do anything. Creep 
 ing through the narrow passage she 
 came to the great north balcony 
 window. There she paused and 
 raised her eyes to the dome of the 
 night. Long lines of stars were 
 strung across the meadows of 
 29
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 heaven. The dials of the world 
 seemed suddenly stilled. Below 
 the infinite peace a budding land 
 scape sloped gently into a placid 
 sea. Myriads of little lights in 
 humble cots blinked an answer to 
 the fires above. Leaning on the 
 broad window-seat of blackened 
 Jersey oak she tried to descry his 
 dwelling, but the tree-tops shut it 
 away. 
 
 A few hours before, he had asked 
 her to be his wife, and she, a 
 Knickerbocker, had thrilled at his 
 words. Like a tide the memory 
 of his love swept back to her. 
 Then on its surges came the stupor 
 of desolation. The gates of Knick 
 erbocker pride were strong. A 
 30
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 second David might fail to force 
 them. All her dreams were fan 
 tasies, with no bearing upon reality. 
 All her hopes were sunbeams van 
 quished by one dark shadow. To 
 her distorted imagination her family 
 seemed accursed. Every face bore 
 some mark of it, even the row of 
 dim portraits in the room below. 
 But, ah ! there was one, a face 
 turned to the rafters of the attic, 
 whose bright eyes and red lips knew 
 love untinctured by the dross of the 
 world. In the darkness it rose be 
 fore her strangely insistent. As in 
 a time-blurred mirror she looked 
 and saw herself, and the feeling, 
 though uncanny, gave her a sense 
 of comfort. 
 
 3 1
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 A wind began to sigh in the 
 garden. Through the boxwood 
 maze and barren urns it swept- 
 Smiling Flora, sleeping Endymion, 
 and all the fabulous court that had 
 stood there years before the coming 
 of the Knickerbockers grew more 
 humanly colored as the moon passed 
 behind a cloud. Since York had 
 become a queenly city and the 
 wonder of the western world, mute 
 and peacefully passive they had 
 watched the seasons come and go. 
 Countless lovers must have known 
 them. She saw back into the 
 springs, the flower times. Sedan 
 chairs and swaying post-chaises had 
 borne these dainty lovers all away. 
 Oh, strange, sweet thought! She, 
 32
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 too, would have to go with 
 him. 
 
 Down by the pale and shivering 
 elms the iron bar of the gate clicked. 
 Dark figures were entering the 
 garden. The gods and goddesses 
 faded before her eyes. No one 
 visited them on Easter eve. Her 
 father did not keep the season. 
 
 She steadied her knees on the 
 slippery seat. The spray of ar 
 butus she was wearing over her 
 heart cut her hands as she pressed 
 closer to the pane. 
 
 " My aunts ! they know ! " she 
 whispered to herself. 
 
 Terror of her father of them 
 all swept over her, chilling the 
 very recesses of her being. As the 
 33
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 habiliments of her august relatives 
 became more distinct, she grew 
 calmer. With slow and measured 
 tread they walked, while to their 
 right minced Betty, a small abi- 
 gail, swaying a lantern. 
 
 " It is the march of pride coming 
 to crush me ! " she cried. 
 
 Then the bells began to peal 
 again " Pride pride " they 
 seemed to mock. " Love must 
 die for pride ! "
 
 >ter 7 wo 
 
 35
 
 N the wreck of many 
 social thrones for 
 the town named 
 after the Duke 
 of York passed 
 through numer 
 ous transitions 
 the world knows 
 nothing of Pa 
 tricia s aunt, Miss 
 Georgina Knick 
 erbocker, had 
 elected to raise 
 her sceptre. " I rule by right " 
 was her dictum. " My family is 
 37
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 old ; few families are older or 
 more aristocratic. The famous 
 Judge Josiah Knickerbocker was 
 my father, and my brother Jona 
 than owns Knickerbocker Man 
 sion, the finest dwelling in York." 
 No potentate ever wore a crown 
 more blissfully than Miss Georgina. 
 Tall, beak-nosed, gruff-voiced she 
 was, always with her younger sis 
 ter, Miss Julie, in tow and under 
 good control Miss Julie, who 
 smirked and copied her when 
 family pride was concerned, though 
 she had her own misgivings and 
 opinions on other matters. Miss 
 Julie even had emotions and senti 
 mentalities of her own, which she 
 struggled to keep bottled up before 
 38
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 her relatives and the world, uncov 
 ering them only in secret, as she 
 did her jasmine scent and poma 
 tum pot. 
 
 The little woman s real name 
 was Jerusalem, bestowed upon her 
 at a time when the judge her 
 father s religious spirit was in its 
 blossoming period. One great 
 grief of her life was that she 
 had given way to wickedness and 
 changed this outlandish cognomen. 
 She often brought the subject up 
 before Dr. Slumnus, as he stopped 
 in for a social game of chess. " In 
 deed, Miss Julie," he would answer 
 soothingly, "the name is so Chris 
 tian that it sounds heathenish. No 
 well-conducted female should pre- 
 39
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 sume to bear the name of the holy 
 city. Nay, ma am, it would have 
 come perilously near sacrilege to 
 retain it ! " 
 
 Thus assured, Miss Julie would 
 give herself over to the excitement 
 of endeavoring to queen a pawn. 
 Later, in her chamber, ready to 
 blow out her candle, alone with 
 the crowd of memories waiting to 
 conduct her to the land of dreams, 
 she shuddered. Her father s stern 
 eyes would glare at her reproach 
 fully ; sometimes she would try 
 to mock at them, remembering 
 the words of Dr. Slumnus but 
 oftener a tear or two trickled down 
 her faded cheeks and stained the 
 strings of her nightcap. 
 40
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 Together these two elderly 
 Knickerbockers were unweary in 
 their efforts to interpret high life 
 to their circle. Their family pride 
 was more expansive than their 
 brother Jonathan s. He talked 
 chiefly of his Aunt Jane, the milk 
 weed lady, of his renowned father, 
 and of that dim shade of a Knick 
 erbocker who was the friend of 
 Lord Cornbury. Miss Georgina 
 had climbed higher into her he 
 reditary tree. She prated of a 
 great-uncle who married a niece 
 of Lord Campbell a cousin un 
 derscored in her records as Laird 
 of Barula the grand Makemies, 
 the high-stepping Gabies, and the 
 learned Gobies. And, as for Aunt
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 Jane, why, she was dowered with 
 a larger chest of silver than any 
 Jersey woman of her day. Those 
 records of her paduasoys and ala- 
 modes would have sickened a Cus- 
 tis ; and her love - affairs ! the 
 wench herself might have been 
 astounded at hearing that she once 
 refused a patroon of Rensselaers- 
 wyck and a president of the Col 
 lege of New Jersey. 
 
 Quietly Miss Julie would sit 
 and listen to her sister, but, once 
 away from her, she would assume 
 what she believed to be the Almack 
 manner, call imagination to her aid, 
 and discourse to her long-suffering 
 acquaintance. Aunt Jane s chest 
 of plate became a veritable crown 
 42
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 furgeon laden with tasters, posset- 
 cups, punch-bowls, muffineers, and 
 salvers of priceless and unique 
 patterns. Her gowns would have 
 done credit to a Drury Lane 
 queen. The patroon of Rens- 
 selaerswyck drank a flask of cam 
 phor to forget his Jane. Scores 
 of suitors died of lacerated hearts 
 for her dear sake, and the presi 
 dent of the College of New Jersey 
 vowed he could not hear the word 
 love spoken in his presence, not 
 even in his young gentlemen s 
 conjugations. 
 
 It was the arrival, from the vul 
 garian camp of Trenton, of one 
 Mrs. Snograss that first brought 
 interference with the sway of these 
 43
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 gentle ladies. That year, in which 
 Richard Sheridan first played the 
 organ in St. Paul s and Mrs. Sno- 
 grass elected to reside in York, 
 proved, indeed, an eventful one for 
 the community. The genteel por 
 tion of Gotham society, like the 
 family of the Vicar of Wakefield, 
 was wont to lead a peaceful life. 
 Most of its adventures befell it 
 by its own fireside, or consisted 
 of migrations from the blue bed 
 to the brown. Or there was the 
 yearly glimpse of the Branch, or 
 Schooley s Mountain, and on rare 
 occasions venturesome parents took 
 their offspring to Hobuck for a 
 fortnight especially if they were 
 marriageable daughters. 
 44
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 The Misses Knickerbocker had 
 visited the latter place in its transi 
 tion period. There Georgina pur 
 chased her Davenport tea-service 
 for a song, and was fond of telling 
 of the fact. And Julie treasured 
 a sweeter memory of the green 
 Elysium a dried - up flower of 
 memory, but once a rose, never 
 theless, carefully guarded from the 
 world, hidden indeed from herself 
 most of the time. 
 
 No one knew exactly how it 
 began that social war over the 
 two capitals of Trenton and York. 
 Black " Rushingbeau," the York 
 pronunciation for Mrs. Snograss s 
 serving-man, Rochambeau, meeting 
 Juma at the morning market in the 
 45
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 centre of the green, had dubbed the 
 Knickerbocker chickens " spinkle- 
 shanked fowls." 
 
 "Wot you know bout hens in 
 yo small count town ! " retorted 
 the loyal champion of York. Like 
 a mushroom the story grew, and 
 spread from Vesey Street kitchens 
 into sitting-rooms and parlors. Of 
 course the aspersive attitude toward 
 York was that of Mrs. Snograss 
 reflected in Rochambeau. 
 
 " To think that a resident of 
 Trenton, a city named after a mere 
 merchant, should have the effron 
 tery to speak disparagingly of our 
 ancient capital!" cried Mrs. Rum- 
 bell, mother-in-law of Dr. Slum- 
 nus. " These are degenerate times, 
 46
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 alack ! What would poor Roberta 
 Johnstone say if she were here ? 
 Let me see how many royal gov 
 ernors have lived amongst us." 
 
 Mrs. Rumbell counted on her 
 slim, old fingers. The Knicker 
 bocker ladies, who lacked the 
 Rumbell knowledge of their city s 
 past, brought all their brightest 
 family banners to the fray. 
 
 " Lud," said Miss Georgina, and 
 Miss Julie promptly echoed her, 
 " I have never even visited the 
 spot where the Snograss woman 
 came from ; I know that the 
 Comte de Survilliers, or plain Mr. 
 Bonaparte, as he prefers to be 
 called, when he failed to secure 
 Knickerbocker Mansion for a resi- 
 47
 
 The Ghosls of Their Ancestors 
 
 dence decided to repair thither. 
 Poor man, he must have lan 
 guished ! " she added with a final 
 snort. 
 
 " And he was such a showy 
 man too ! " sighed her sister. 
 
 Mrs. Snograss, learning of the 
 ferment her servant had aroused, 
 sagaciously remarked : " Let them 
 talk ; their chatter is a lecture to 
 the wise ; as for capitals, every 
 body knows, counting out the in 
 habitants of this mud-hole, that 
 Trenton came near being the capi 
 tal of the whole country ! " 
 
 When this bombastic statement 
 
 was hurled at Vesey Street, it made 
 
 as much of a sensation as the late 
 
 news from Cherubusco. Most 
 
 48
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 of the Government officers were 
 classed with the Snograss widow 
 by the affronted Gothamites, and 
 Mrs. Rumbell said openly that 
 if she had her life to live over 
 England should have welcomed 
 her when the cross of St. George 
 was torn down from the court 
 house flag-staff. 
 
 The winter died and still there 
 was no cessation of hostilities. 
 The choir-room of St. Paul s, 
 where the ladies of the Bengal 
 mission met and listened to itiner 
 ant lecturers, or sewed garments 
 for the needy, was the usual field 
 for battle. When Mrs. Snograss 
 arrived late one day for Mr. Tim- 
 buckey s talk on the piety of 
 49
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 George Crabbe, she was unfortu 
 nately ushered to Miss Georgina 
 Knickerbocker s bench. That 
 haughty lady, the enemy being 
 comfortably ensconced, arose and 
 stalked over to Mrs. Rumbell s 
 seat, followed by her sister and the 
 Mansion girls, so that the bustle 
 ensuing spoke to everybody of 
 what was taking place. Patricia 
 smiled a mortified, half-sad smile 
 at Mrs. Snograss, but the Tren- 
 tonian only accepted it as addi 
 tional insult. 
 
 A month later Mrs. Rumbell 
 fainted when her sewing-chair was 
 placed by the disturber of her 
 peace. She was one of the most 
 violent in her aversion to the new- 
 5
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 comer. The Rev. Samuel Slum- 
 nus shook his fat finger at his 
 mother-in-law, as the crafty dow 
 ager, enjoying the excitement cre 
 ated by her feigned swoon, could 
 see with her eyes half-opened. 
 Such conduct was not to be borne. 
 " Rebellion in my own family," 
 fumed the perplexed dominie. "I 
 must put a stop to it at once." In 
 his agitation he clasped and un 
 clasped his hands and caressed his 
 sparse locks. When a hush fell at 
 last upon the room, he was seen 
 mounting the choir-platform. 
 
 " The meeting of the Easter 
 
 Guild will be held this year at 
 
 the residence of Mrs. Snograss," he 
 
 sputtered. For a full minute silence 
 
 5 1
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 reigned then came a clangor of 
 tongues. " He is almost as red in 
 the face as if he choked on the 
 prune-pits in the Knickerbocker 
 fruit-cake," some irreverent one 
 whispered. It was said afterward 
 that Mrs. Snograss had put a five- 
 dollar bill in the mission-box as 
 she left the choir-room that morn 
 ing a performance not without 
 effect. A few parishioners were 
 even heard to lament the fact that 
 Dr. Slumnus s family was not of 
 the same standing as his wife s. 
 Miss Georgina declared privately 
 to her sister that any one who 
 went to the Snograss woman s 
 should never darken the door of 
 Goby House again. But when the
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 day preceding Easter came, and 
 she heard from Julie of the de 
 light the town was taking in the 
 prospect of viewing the much- 
 talked of Snograss interior, one 
 venturesome housekeeper having 
 even asserted that she intended 
 going up to the chambers, Miss 
 Georgina, wild with jealousy, de 
 cided to carry the war into the 
 enemy s country. 
 
 As the night before that day of 
 days died away and clarion cocks 
 made the young dawn vocal, eager 
 hands drew back the curtains of 
 four-posters. Above the green- 
 gray of spring-time streets and 
 lanes, the sentinel tree-tops pointed 
 to the translucent blue of a smiling 
 53
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 sky. " Day s fair and all s well ! " 
 bawled the watch as they blew 
 
 out their smoking lights. Voices 
 cracked and rusted by sleep echoed 
 
 54
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 the cry in the depths of soft, 
 chintz-bound coverlets. " My best 
 ferrandine coat," mumbled Miss 
 Georgina to herself, in her delight 
 over a pleasing picture of her en 
 trance into the Snograss parlor. 
 She let the bolster slip to the floor 
 and precipitated her head against 
 the carved laurel leaves of the top- 
 board, all unconsciously. Bright 
 were the visions of cherished fala- 
 fals and gewgaws that came to the 
 members of the Easter Guild as they 
 parted company with Morpheus. 
 
 Mrs. Rumbell, looking from a 
 casement in the rectory, felt the 
 sweetness of the season fall upon 
 her. That patch of fresh sky, 
 suggestive of new life and a swift- 
 55
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 footed May, was more to her than 
 a volley of sermons. The snow 
 still lay on hill and heath. Father 
 Winter, neglectful of one of his 
 worlds, was sporting among the 
 northern mountains. Oh, the peace 
 of it! Why should she care if the 
 wealthy Mrs. Snograss had come 
 to York with her Trenton innova 
 tions ? All her past grievances were 
 forgotten. In her blissful state 
 she felt she could even go the 
 length of sewing whalebone in her 
 second-best silk skirt to conform 
 to the ridiculous fashion of stiff 
 ened skirts, introduced by that 
 lady. Everything was changing ! 
 What could she, frail and old, 
 gain by wrestling with the times ?
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 Across the way, torn landscape 
 shades blinded the windows of 
 Johnstone House. Roberta was 
 dead and her home awaited a new 
 tenant. Beyond lay the Bowling 
 Green, the background of her long 
 life witness to all the parts the 
 stage-master, Fate, had dealt out 
 to her. Joys and sorrows marked 
 its worn paths. The city of her 
 golden time was fading away. No 
 halloos of eager huntsmen, usher 
 ing in Aurora, greeted her ears as 
 of yore. Only a stray thrush, mis 
 taking the season, trilled liquid 
 notes to his lost mates on a hem 
 lock by her chamber. 
 
 Soon the daylight s eyes were 
 wide open, and the door-knockers, 
 57
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 across the church-yard, began to 
 glow like miniature suns. Festi 
 vals and holidays always brought 
 the housekeepers of York to mar 
 ket, followed by their faithful 
 blacks carrying little wicker bas 
 kets. They tripped first to Mrs. 
 Sykes s booth, where one could 
 find all the season s delicacies ; 
 then to the wintergreen - berry 
 man, and on through the circle 
 of venders. The mystical joy of 
 Eastertide that flooded the heart 
 of Mrs. Rumbell in the dawn 
 swept through the concourse at 
 the market. The perfume of the 
 southern lilies, the merry cries of 
 hucksters, and the shrill calls of 
 gutter-waifs as they tugged at the 
 58
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 skirts of Cock-a-nee-nae Bess were 
 all permeated with it. 
 
 The prattling groups about Mrs. 
 Sykes ofttimes broke away to take 
 sly looks across the green at 
 the distant Broadway. " Will she 
 come?" "Shall we extend our 
 hands to her, or just curtesy?" 
 These and many like questions 
 went for naught that morning. 
 The blinds of Snograss house were 
 parted; a turbaned negress came 
 out and washed the entry. Once 
 the opening of a door thrilled the 
 curious dames. But the new 
 comer was waiting to enjoy her 
 full triumph in the afternoon. 
 
 No one looked toward the house 
 on Vesey Street. The Knick- 
 59
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 erbockers never frequented the 
 market Jonathan Knickerbocker 
 forbade his family s participation 
 in such vulgar customs. 
 
 Georgina did not descend to her 
 sitting-room in as pleasant a humor 
 as was to have been expected from 
 her waking contemplations. She 
 jangled her keys so ominously as 
 she strutted through the halls and 
 pantries that Julie was afraid to 
 venture out. On the day before 
 Easter the little woman was in the 
 habit of stealing away to a by-lane 
 near the market. From a discreet 
 distance she directed her purchases. 
 Children would run for her oranges, 
 the cock-a-nee-nae necessary to her 
 happiness, the boxes of Poppleton 
 60
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 sweets and foreign nuts. When 
 they were very swift she would 
 reward them with as much as a 
 dime apiece, so great was the de 
 light she felt in providing a secret 
 store of goodies. 
 
 To-day there was no escaping. 
 The market was sold out and the 
 booths carried away before she fin 
 ished helping her sister tie up the 
 Easter presents. It was a custom 
 among the ladies of York to ex 
 change chaste and useful gifts of 
 their own handiwork. Worsted 
 hat-bag covers and silk mittens 
 were the favorites. Mrs. Rumbell 
 was the one exception to the rule. 
 She still cut up her father s bro 
 cade vests into small squares, which 
 61
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 she filled with dried rose-geranium 
 leaves and distributed among her 
 acquaintance. Three generations 
 had received these fragrant marks 
 of her regard, and the wits ac 
 cused her relative of having been 
 a Hollander, addicted to the habit 
 of swarthing himself in superfluous 
 garments. Members of the Scrug- 
 gins set went further, and hinted 
 maliciously that he was a dealer in 
 old clothes. 
 
 Miss Georgina preferred silk 
 mittens, and gave and received no 
 less than a dozen pairs a season. 
 If the ones sent to her were of a 
 color she did not like, she kept 
 them for a year or two, and then 
 packed them off again. This was 
 62
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 quite permissible in York. On 
 one occasion Georgina s own mit 
 tens were returned to her, but far 
 from being angry, she smiled a 
 grim welcome at them, and re 
 marked to her household that 
 she was glad to see them back 
 for they were at least fashioned of 
 pure silk, and that was more than 
 she could say of many pairs that 
 had been sent to her. 
 
 Quaint little ladies of Gotham- 
 town quaint little old-time fig 
 ures ! flitting in and out of your 
 ancient homes like shadows ! who 
 cares to-day for your petty gifts, 
 your plans, and jealousies ? Only 
 one or two remember you. The 
 walks you trod are vanishing, the 
 
 63
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 water-front gardens where you 
 smiled and languished at sedate 
 gentlemen are mostly hidden neath 
 bricks and mortar, and the very 
 buildings you were born in, that 
 stood so long impervious to the 
 rude hands of progress, are being 
 demolished. Those musty gar 
 ments of Juma s " ole Miss," the 
 friend of Mrs. Rumbell, are now 
 folded in some attic trunk with your 
 own pet vanities. What would the 
 haughty Miss Georgina have said 
 if she could have gazed through 
 the door of the future and seen a 
 Scruggins brat grown into a leader 
 of fashion and carrying her own tor 
 toise fan sold with other Knicker 
 bocker effects at the last vendue ? 
 64
 
 The Ghosts oj Their Ancestors 
 
 If one had loitered in Vesey 
 Street that afternoon before Easter 
 so many years past, one would, no 
 
 doubt, have joined the stragglers 
 about the gates of Snograss House, 
 and watched the members of St. 
 
 65
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 Paul s Easter Guild mince up 
 Broadway, carefully keeping to the 
 pave. The Flying Swan from 
 Elizabethtown was due at four 
 o clock, and those timid ladies of 
 the long ago knew that the sway 
 ing, swaggering bedlam of a coach 
 would enjoy spattering them as it 
 rattled up to the City Hotel. On 
 the porch of that fine hostelry, 
 where Mr. Clarke once wooed his 
 muse and scores of thirsty throats 
 the wine-cup, stood the host, Davy 
 Juniper, whose very name was sy 
 nonymous with cheer. Through 
 the half-opened door came loud 
 gusts of unceremonious laughter 
 as the portly innkeeper, curveting 
 on tiptoe, swung his garland of 
 66
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 Easter green over the sign-board. 
 Davy s eyes were riveted on the 
 flashing colors of feminine gear 
 across the street. Now Mrs. Rum- 
 bell tottered by and bobbed to 
 him; now a bevy of the Scrug- 
 gins set passed the house opposite, 
 and gazed in, like forbidden Peris 
 at the door of Paradise. Some 
 times the street was covered with 
 pedestrians. The quality abroad 
 affected the good man s spirits. 
 He began to pipe some merry 
 verses from a tap-room ditty : 
 
 Major Macpherson heav d a sigh, 
 
 Tol, de diddle, dol, dol; 
 And Major Macpherson didn t know 
 
 why, 
 
 Tol, de diddle, dol, dol; 
 67
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 But Major Macpherson soon found out, 
 
 Tol, de diddle, dol, dol; 
 Twas all for Miss Lavinia Scout, 
 
 Tol, de diddle, dol, dol. 
 
 The night was creeping on, 
 clear and cold, and there would be 
 full settles about his waggish fires. 
 In the sky, puffs of fleecy clouds 
 were hurrying away like sheep 
 eager to reach the fold of mother- 
 dusk. Off in the west, where twi 
 light parted her curtains, glowed 
 faint streaks of yellow and rose 
 color, promises of daffodil mead 
 ows and flower-strewn lands to 
 come. 
 
 He was turning for a parting 
 survey of the street when his ears 
 caught the tremulous motion of 
 68
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 some vehicle. Dashing out of 
 Vesey Street came the Knicker 
 bocker chariot, creaking protesta 
 tions as it swung up to the Sno- 
 grass stile. 
 
 Out popped Miss Georgina, fol 
 lowed by her sister. Never had 
 Miss Georgina seemed so like a 
 man-of-war s man in a flounce. 
 Miss Julie shrunk into insignifi 
 cance beside her. Tavern maids, 
 attracted by the noise and heed 
 less of the cold, poked their heads 
 out of dormer windows. The 
 passengers on the Flying Swan just 
 turning the pike slipped cautiously 
 from the seats behind the guard 
 to find out the cause of the excite 
 ment. Juma, hurrying home to 
 69
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 the mansion, paused for a moment 
 to see the sisters of his master 
 step down. " Ramrods old Ram 
 rods," jeered Mr. Juniper, as he 
 flung a last defiant " tol, de rol," 
 at the gaping street. 
 
 The door of the tavern had no 
 more than swung to when that of 
 Snograss House opened. Every 
 inmate of the room eyed Miss 
 Georgina as she greeted the mistress. 
 There was an element of hostility 
 in their ceremonious handshake. 
 As the sister of the autocrat of 
 York viewed the rich furnish 
 ings of the apartment, the gold- 
 legged piano and the silk-covered 
 furniture, her lips straightened into 
 a sinister line. Her own possessions 
 70
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 shrunk into insignificance com 
 pared with this elegance. Even the 
 long shut-up state parlor in Knick 
 erbocker Mansion could hardly vie 
 with it. Lady Tyron, the last 
 lady of York, had fitted that room 
 with heirlooms from her English 
 home. Jonathan was in the habit 
 of calling it the finest apartment in 
 the State. He prated of its mould 
 ering beauties often, forgetting 
 that it was lauded by his towns 
 men long before the Knickerbock 
 ers entered its portals. 
 
 The contents of the Snograss 
 parlor had given other Gothamites 
 momentary uneasiness that after 
 noon. Of course no one felt they 
 possessed the Knickerbocker right
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 to feel deeply aggrieved over them. 
 Mrs. Rumbell, spying the oil-paint 
 ed views of Trenton by the entrance 
 door, hurriedly shut her eyes, vow 
 ing the calm feeling in her heart 
 should not be disturbed. As pen 
 ance for the pain which the pict 
 ures of the hated capital gave her 
 she seized a dish of quince scones 
 and ran with them to Dr. Slum- 
 nus. Refreshments had not been 
 passed about, and the rector of St. 
 Paul s signalled to his mother-in- 
 law not to approach. Thinking 
 that he preferred the gooseberry 
 tarts on an opposite table she hast 
 ened over for them, until Samuel, 
 visibly embarrassed by her atten 
 tions, left his comfortable cush- 
 72
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 ioned chair and took refuge in the 
 hall. 
 
 If any one had imagined that 
 Mrs. Snograss would forgive the 
 
 various slights put upon her in 
 York, she or he was doomed to 
 
 73
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 disappointment. All the pleasant 
 things they said to her about her 
 costly egg-shell china, the glass 
 aviary with the artificial tree, and 
 other luxuries, failed to soften her 
 vindictive mood. Each timidly 
 expressed compliment recalled to 
 her a covert sneer, a deprecating 
 smile, or a garment hastily drawn 
 aside. As Miss Georgina, on be 
 half of the presiding committee, 
 counted up the Easter gifts the 
 church would give to the poor, the 
 Trenton widow whom she feared as 
 a rival was musing on past insults. 
 
 "Ten tin trumpets," called the 
 loud voice. 
 
 " I can humble her," thought 
 the Snograss woman. 
 74
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 " Ten surprise packages," con 
 tinued the other. 
 
 " I ll give the Knickerbocker 
 family a surprise," spoke the in 
 dignant Trentonian half aloud. 
 
 She was naturally an amiable 
 person, but the aristocratic con 
 gregation of St. Paul s had impaired 
 her temper, proffering her vinegar 
 when she had sought the wine of 
 good-fellowship. She stared at the 
 bedizened figure of the sister of 
 the autocrat of York a moment 
 longer, then turned meaningly to 
 the only member of the Scruggins 
 set who happened to be present. 
 There was already a look of tri 
 umph in her eyes. " She shall 
 bend to the dust soon," she whis- 
 75
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 pered. Then she arose from her 
 sofa, clashing the folds of her til- 
 ter until the room was full of lus 
 tring mockery. Everything was 
 in readiness for Mrs. Snograss s cli 
 max of the afternoon. Revenge 
 spread out its hands and gave her 
 tongue. 
 
 " Have you ever heard of The 
 School for Scandal/ Miss Knicker 
 bocker?" she asked, wreathing her 
 face in an inscrutable smile. 
 
 Glad of an opportunity for dis 
 playing her knowledge, Georgina 
 rose eagerly to the bait. " I saw 
 the play at the Park in the twen 
 ties. Twas a prodigious fine cast, 
 if I remember." 
 
 " They say a new Sheridan has 
 76
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 come to our city." Every Gotham- 
 ite loved that phrase, "our city," 
 and Mrs. Snograss dwelt on the 
 words with the nicest shade of 
 mimicry. " He is preparing a lit 
 tle comedy I might dub the same 
 name," she snickered. 
 
 "An author man?" asked the 
 Knickerbocker voice that always 
 filled the room. " What does he 
 want here ?" 
 
 A sudden silence fell upon the 
 company. Eyes were turned on 
 the Turkey carpet before the fire 
 place where the great ladies stood. 
 Ears were cocked in their direc 
 tion. The pirouetting woodland 
 fay embellishing the tambour fire 
 screen, worked by the Trentonian 
 77
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 when she attended Madame de Foe s 
 Academy for gentle children, wore 
 a more conscious smirk than usual. 
 Even the twin Bow dogs which 
 had held their tufted tails erect 
 through the stormiest family fra 
 cases seemed agitated. 
 
 " He plays the organ at our 
 church," she answered with forced 
 deliberation ; then in a whisper loud 
 enough to have done credit to a 
 lady on the boards, she. added, "and 
 when away from that instrument 
 spends his time making love to 
 your niece Patricia." 
 
 Mrs. Snograss gave a hysteri 
 cal laugh and retreated a few 
 rods. 
 
 A thunder-bolt falling at Miss 
 78
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 Georgina s feet could not have 
 created more consternation. For 
 a moment she glared at the creat 
 ure before her as if she were a 
 butterfly or a beetle something to 
 be crushed and killed then re 
 membering that politeness is always 
 a trusty weapon, she roared in as 
 soft a fashion as she could, " You 
 are mistaken, madam ! " 
 
 " My Julie saw them kissing less 
 than an hour ago on the Marine 
 Parade!" 
 
 " Ladies who make confidants 
 of their servants are often misin 
 formed," the other hissed. 
 
 By this time all Vesey Street 
 was on its feet. The plans of the 
 day were forgotten. Every one 
 79
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 was too stunned to speak. A 
 Knickerbocker openly insulted 
 the thought was appalling ! Miss 
 Julie, who was lingering some Sno- 
 grass ambrotypes, let them slip to 
 the floor in her excitement. She 
 had not been so much agitated for 
 years not since a certain ship 
 sailed out of Amboy for the Indies 
 bearing a youthful captain whom 
 Judge Knickerbocker had bidden 
 her forget. 
 
 " Oh, oh ! " she gasped and 
 there were those who afterward 
 declared she looked almost pleased. 
 " My niece has a lover ! " But in 
 another breath, " Oh, what will 
 her father say ? " 
 
 "Jerusalem, restrain yourself," 
 80
 
 " My Julie saw them kissing less than an 
 hour ago on the marine -parade "
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 called her sister. That lady was 
 sweeping proudly from the room. 
 
 " Impudence ! " she said, thrust 
 ing her sister out of the hall. 
 When the cold air of the street 
 touched their hot faces, she spoke 
 again. Her anger was fast en 
 gulfed in a wave of bitter humili 
 ation. 
 
 " We are disgraced, Jerusalem! 
 The Knickerbocker name dishon 
 ored! The man is a person of 
 common family. I fear the Gob 
 ies and the Gabies are turning in 
 their graves. What would Aunt 
 Jane have thought?" 
 
 " They kissed in the shrubbery 
 My niece in love ? " Miss Julie 
 was whispering to herself unheeded. 
 81
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 The faded leaves of the one flower 
 in her heart were stirring gently. 
 
 Now and then the faint note of 
 a bell drifted on the air. The old 
 sexton of St. Paul s was preparing 
 his metal children for their long 
 anthem. 
 
 " Oh, joyous night, make haste 
 make haste," they tinkled to the 
 taper-like star above them. 
 
 "Disgraced!" muttered Miss 
 Georgina.
 
 JKapter Three ~G
 
 HE glimmering 
 lantern which 
 the serving- 
 maid Betty 
 carried seemed 
 like a huge 
 firefly come 
 back to a land 
 of blooms. 
 Sometimes in 
 dim alleyways it 
 caught in her flap 
 ping garments, and 
 her two mistresses 
 were forced to cling 
 together until they reached the 
 next patch of moonlight. When 
 85
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 their half-tasted dinner was fin 
 ished, and the silver counted and 
 locked in the cherry cabinet, Geor- 
 gina commanded her sister to step 
 over with her to the mansion. 
 Jonathan never permitted the fam 
 ily vehicle to be brought out when 
 the world was not looking, and his 
 womenkind were used to tramping 
 through the darkness. Julie was 
 reluctant to go at first, but the 
 other s anger flamed so high she 
 could not help catching some of 
 the sparks. 
 
 " Would you allow your niece to 
 ruin her life by marrying a man 
 who gains his livelihood playing 
 a musical instrument ? Methinks 
 you have a fondness for horn- 
 86
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 pipers and such. There was Signer 
 Succhi, our dancing-master, I rec 
 ollect " nodding her head " he 
 used to call you * little peach-blos 
 som his little peach-blossom ! " 
 
 Julie smiled at Georgina s latest 
 feat of memory ; then she turned 
 about and gazed into the dying 
 embers. For a moment she stood 
 beside a merry-eyed youth who 
 dared her to prick the signer s 
 silken calves. Did he really per 
 fect their symmetry with cotton 
 as was said, she wondered ? Alas, 
 that she was born timorous. 
 
 " Are your wits leaving you, 
 
 Jerusalem ? " continued the other 
 
 " you who wear Aunt Jane s hair 
 
 locket and have been for years an 
 
 8?
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 ornament in the highest sphere of 
 this city now being ruined by 
 Trentonians and other foreigners. 
 Where is your boasted allegiance 
 to those of your family who have 
 gone before you ? " 
 
 Threatened and cajoled by turns 
 Miss Julie was led into the 
 night. " The Snograss woman 
 may have lied," came the consol 
 ing thought. She cheered her 
 self with it hurrying through the 
 snow. 
 
 Up Church Street they stumbled 
 past huts and houses. Warm win 
 dows beckoned to them. Georgina 
 had forgotten the mittens for her 
 nieces. The scene at the Snograss 
 House was uppermost in her mind.
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 " What a sly minx Patricia is to 
 have kept the disgraceful affair 
 from us so long," she was thinking. 
 " Could that skulking Juma have 
 helped her ? He knew enough to 
 bamboozle one. There was a re 
 port that old Roberta Johnstone 
 even read him novels." The boist 
 erous wind, tossing the budding 
 lilac branches about the statues in 
 the Knickerbocker garden which 
 the girl in the window-seat was 
 watching, came shrieking out of 
 unexpected openings and buffeted 
 her aunts in the face. 
 
 Now they were entering the 
 
 narrow passage that opened into 
 
 Vesey Street. The tavern lights 
 
 twinkled beyond, but drear and 
 
 89
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 lonely the artery for cut-throats ap 
 peared. 
 
 Georgina, brave and intrepid, was 
 still nursing her wrath when a mist 
 came before her eyes. " I see ! I 
 feel queer! " she cried. Her com 
 panions were shaking like autumn 
 leaves. " Oh, don t pause, sister ! " 
 squeaked terrified Julie, " here s 
 where that picaroon in the black 
 mask was wont to hide. A Dick 
 Turpin may be concealed yonder ! " 
 
 " Hist ! " called Georgina, as if 
 speaking to some vermin of the 
 night. A shadowy mocking face 
 was rising up before her. She be 
 gan to tremble where had she 
 seen it ? Yes, twas the face of the 
 ancestress whose portrait Jonathan 
 90
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 took down from the line of Knick 
 erbockers in the parlor. " My 
 nerves," she gasped. " Come, let 
 us haste, you trembling fools ! 3 
 Once in the driveway to the house 
 she denied her fright. Betty was 
 scolded for stumbling over a brier- 
 bush. When the long flight of 
 steps was reached, she rushed at 
 them boldly. " Knock, Jerusa 
 lem," she commanded. 
 
 The little woman tried to sound 
 the clapper, then fell back ex 
 hausted. Georgina, enraged, seized 
 it and thumped violently upon the 
 plate. The sounds reverberated 
 through the night, clashing against 
 the bell-notes and the sound of the 
 swaying elms.
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 Jonathan and his daughters 
 sprang from their seats. The 
 Santa Cruz invoices slipped to the 
 floor and fluttered after the wool 
 balls like merchants aspiring to 
 new possessions. What cared the 
 horn of plenty on the door for the 
 profits of the Fleet Sally ? It had 
 watched the ebb and flow of lord 
 lier fortunes. "That ear-splitting 
 bell hubbub and now visitors," 
 said the master, advancing to his 
 offspring as if they were the cause 
 of this new annoyance. 
 
 Juma, already half-drunk with 
 dreams, rubbed his dazed head and 
 hastened toward the entry. Was 
 Toussaint calling him ? Did the 
 chair of Marie du Buc de Marci- 
 92
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 nelle, the Elizabethtown beauty, 
 pause before the hair-dresser s sign ? 
 Then time and place came back. 
 Realizing that he was watched, he 
 drew the great bolt with a show 
 of strength, and in bounded the 
 gale-blown humanity. 
 
 " You ? " queried the head of 
 the Knickerbockers. That was the 
 only greeting he gave his near 
 est relations on Easter eve. He 
 glanced at Julie to see whether 
 she secreted any packages about 
 her person. 
 
 Georgina, entering the room, 
 her face stern and white, said, eye 
 ing him, " Prepare yourself for a 
 shock." 
 
 He returned the challenge. 
 93
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 Had she been tampering with 
 her five-per-cents for Peruvian in 
 vestments ? Was it the old plaint 
 Jerusalem s frivolity ? Why did the 
 woman gaze at him so mournfully ? 
 " Prepare yourself," she con 
 tinued, her voice rising to a 
 shriek. " Patricia your Pa 
 tricia has disgraced 
 us!" 
 
 The girl peering 
 from the land 
 ing heard her 
 name called. 
 Her secret was 
 known to the 
 world and 
 would soon be 
 an implement 
 94
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 of torture. The arbutus fell from 
 her bodice unheeded. She could 
 not meet that cruel group below ! 
 
 " Richard," sighed the stray 
 gusts of wind on the staircase ; 
 " Richard " chimed the patient 
 clock. She crept closer to the 
 baluster railing. Some mysterious 
 force was guiding impelling her 
 onward. Out of the shadows 
 flashed a face. Like a smile it 
 vanished. She ran to the steps. 
 For a moment she stood silent, 
 gaining courage to descend. 
 
 At the very moment when she 
 
 had glanced back tremblingly for 
 
 a parting benediction from the 
 
 stars, a figure wrapped in a great- 
 
 95
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 coat was hurrying out of the Sheri 
 dan garden. It was Patricia s lover. 
 The youth often came to gaze at 
 her home after sleep 
 locked all the doors 
 of the world but 
 the dream door for 
 which he had never 
 yet found a key. 
 Then the day 
 time s barriers were 
 broken and she was 
 his alone. Under 
 the Knickerbocker 
 elm -trees he would stand, some 
 times, a wild, impassioned trouba 
 dour, aflame with songs of love 
 for his imprisoned mate. Again 
 she came to him a vision pure and 
 96
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 ethereal and he folded her to his 
 heart in memory of one perfect 
 Junetime day while multitudes 
 of roses shed their fragrant petals 
 and birds trilled a divine chorus. 
 To-night, with the wondrous Easter 
 peace upon him, she seemed to 
 walk by his side. Those bell- 
 notes drifting on the air were the 
 music of their lives. Hand in 
 hand they floated on the flow of the 
 darkness. Through the days and 
 the years. Through the springs 
 and the summers. Always to 
 gether ! Little forms clutched 
 their knees. Carking care crept 
 out of black coverts. Death beck 
 oned to them in the distance 
 still, there was the scent of June- 
 97
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 time roses. Ah, God ! those roses 
 of love, they were theirs for all 
 eternity ! 
 
 As he neared Knickerbocker 
 Mansion his mood changed. The 
 bells were dying away again. Old 
 Jenkins up in the steeple above the 
 lights of the drowsy city was let 
 ting his metal children rest. Their 
 task would soon be over, for the 
 faithful moss-hung clock already 
 pointed to the nightcap hour. The 
 rushes in the poorer regions near 
 the waste lands were flickering out 
 only the gentry street was still 
 aglow. 
 
 A flock of snow-sparrows caught 
 by the gale dashed past the youth, 
 chattering bird imprecations. Be- 
 98
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 yond, in the moonlight, loomed 
 Her dwelling-place. Coldly white 
 and dreary it looked. Everything 
 about it was mute and unaware of 
 the joyous night. Did Juma keep 
 his promise and give her the arbu 
 tus ? A longing thrilled him to 
 know her thoughts at this hour. 
 Were they of him ? He hastened 
 into the carriage-path, following 
 the footprints made by the trio 
 from Goby House. The leaden 
 statues leered at him in the spaces 
 between the evergreens. Bare 
 shrubs sighed their gusty dirges at 
 his heels. 
 
 At the lordly flight of steps he 
 paused and hesitated. Then her 
 pleading voice seemed to rise on 
 99
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 the wind. A strange intuition 
 swayed him. The great door of 
 the mansion was moving, opening 
 inward. He asked himself if he 
 were going stark mad, as he crept 
 to it softly, like a thief. 
 
 A cry met his ears, and he 
 staggered back " I love him ! I 
 shall love him always!" came the 
 words. 
 
 " Patricia," he whispered breath 
 lessly. 
 
 Before him was the dismal 
 length of the hall that he had 
 never hoped to enter. Slowly he 
 reeled forward. 
 
 While her lover was coming to 
 her through the night, the girl 
 
 100
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 was descending the staircase. At 
 the bottom she paused and re 
 mained very still. From the room 
 beyond an army of candle rays 
 was slipping underneath the green 
 sarcenet curtain and capering 
 gnome-like about her feet. They 
 were waiting for her in there ! A 
 prowling rat scampered down the 
 dark passage. In another moment 
 she would stand before her indig 
 nant family. The curtain shifted 
 and shadows chased away the light. 
 Behind the awful thing were their 
 watchful eyes. She began to trem 
 ble and stretch out her hands im 
 ploringly at the space before it. 
 The courage that had brought her 
 so near to the chamber of judg- 
 101
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 ment was fast vanishing when 
 Juma came slowly out of the 
 pantry. He did not speak, but 
 his sad old eyes rested on her lov 
 ingly. Stifled sobs shook her 
 slender frame as she nestled close 
 to him, seeking the help that he 
 was powerless to give. A wilder 
 gust of wind blew the neglected 
 spray of arbutus from the land 
 ing above and it fell at her feet 
 like a message. She looked at it 
 a moment, then slowly parted the 
 veil of the inevitable. The eyes 
 she feared were now upon her. 
 
 Jonathan, choleric with indigna 
 tion, stood by his desk, clenching 
 his hands. At the sight of the 
 child whose conduct swept aside 
 
 102
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 every Knickerbocker law his rage 
 overflowed, and the room was full 
 of a torrent of reproaches. Once 
 he came near knocking over a bust 
 of Mr. Washington, the property 
 of a Makemie, and Miss Julie gave 
 a slight scream. 
 
 Patricia heard him silently. She 
 was calmer than any of the spec 
 tators. The other Mansion girls 
 continually slid off their chairs and 
 made weird gurgles with their 
 throats. Several times they almost 
 interrupted their parent. As for 
 Georgina, her high-built hair shook 
 like a barrister s wig in the heat of 
 a court appeal. 
 
 " You have disgraced us a com 
 mon follower fit for a tire-woman ! 
 103
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 Yes, miss, in your veins flows the 
 Knickerbocker blood, though I 
 cannot credit it. Say tis a lie ere 
 I turn you out. Say tis the fabri 
 cation of that catamount Trenton 
 woman, envious of your aunts repu 
 tation. Speak, girl ! Is it true 
 that the town has seen you keep 
 ing trysts with him at the Battery ? 
 Speak!" gasped the worthy man. 
 
 " It is true," said Patricia, trying 
 to keep herself strong for battle. 
 
 The draught from the half 
 opened door, which Juma in his 
 excitement had neglected to shut, 
 swept the chimney piece and ended 
 the life of a candle. 
 
 " Look ! " said Jonathan dragging 
 his daughter by the arms, and point- 
 104
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 ing to the portraits along the wall. 
 " You are the first to disgrace 
 them ! They were as fine a line 
 of men and women as was ever 
 bred up in America. Think you 
 they stepped down from their high 
 places for silly fancies ? Think 
 you they forgot they were born to 
 superior circumstances and sullied 
 their reputations ? " 
 
 Here the autocrat of York s 
 voice broke slightly. The same 
 ghostly face that had appeared to 
 Miss Georgina in Cut-throat Alley 
 leered at him suddenly, and he re 
 coiled. Aghast, he remembered 
 the painting under the attic eaves ! 
 
 Patricia was facing him. The 
 
 word love was in his ears. With 
 105
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 a maddened cry he advanced quiver 
 ing. Along the films of the air he 
 saw his ancestors as he often pict 
 ured them to himself a fine mass 
 of superior clay on a pedestal. 
 
 " You shall give him up ! " he 
 thundered. Then he turned. The 
 green sarcenet curtain moved omi 
 nously, and the form of Richard 
 Sheridan was disclosed in its folds. 
 
 The youth, heedless of the frown 
 ing faces about him, gazed only at 
 the woman he was ready to die for 
 if need were. The passions of the 
 world were swept away as the echo 
 of her cry " I love him I shall 
 love him always ! " bounded 
 through his heart. For one har 
 monious moment they gazed into 
 1 06
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 each other s eyes forgetful of surg 
 ing discords. With stronger grip 
 he clutched at the curtain ! 
 
 " You, sirrah ! " scoffed the voice 
 Patricia thought would go on for 
 ever, inflicting fresh wounds at each 
 new outburst. " Impudent organ 
 thumper to dare come here ! I ll 
 better your judgment." As he 
 moved nearer Richard she thrust 
 herself before him. 
 
 From the corner of the room 
 came a wail from Julie. " Oh, 
 don t be hard on them, Jonathan. 
 You helped father make me give 
 up Captain MacLeerie," she fal 
 tered. " I might have been Mrs. 
 Captain MacLeerie! Poor Bodsey 
 he vowed he d never sail a ship 
 107
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 into Amboy Harbor again and 
 perhaps the cannibals have him 
 now, or the devil fishes ! " 
 
 She began to weep softly. Out 
 side a heavy oaken shutter clanked 
 against the house. Patricia threw 
 her arms about her lover s neck, 
 and her father gazed at her spell 
 bound with fury. 
 
 " Disgraced us, hussy," he mut 
 tered. "Go with your tinker!" 
 
 Juma fell on his knees and be 
 gan to lament after the fashion of 
 his kind. 
 
 "Begone!" spoke the voice 
 again, breaking at last " You are 
 no longer one of us ! " 
 
 The girl, supported by the man 
 to whom she was giving her young 
 1 08
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 life, and followed by the trembling 
 negro, crept slowly away. 
 
 Whiffs of air increasing to a cur 
 rent swept from out the hall. The 
 remaining lights fought with it 
 then despaired. A tired moon was 
 slumbering behind the western 
 pines, and only the glow of a few 
 watchful stars dripped through the 
 casements. 
 
 Simultaneously the breaths of 
 every one in the room came faster 
 and faster. Vapors wan and tinged 
 with dust filled the atmosphere, and 
 an unmistakable odor of sandal- 
 wood, faint from long imprison 
 ment. 
 
 The startled Knickerbockers re 
 treated to the walls, knocking over 
 109
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 chairs and tables in their flight. 
 Before the green sarcenet curtain 
 which had played such a part in the 
 affairs of the night there was a waft 
 of airy garments. A white weft 
 of towering hair black, burning 
 eyes. Three Knickerbockers knew 
 them ! The lady of the banished 
 portrait was moving through the 
 doorway and speaking in quaint 
 last-century utterance. 
 
 "Come back!" she called to the 
 lovers, speaking to Patricia. " Tis 
 a weary while I have been in the 
 other world, but your sore need has 
 brought me here on the anniversary 
 of the birth of love. I am your 
 great-great-grandmother, who felt 
 the full force of the pretty passion 
 no
 
 
 " The lady of the banished portrait was 
 moving through the doorway "
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 and stole away with my dear heart 
 from yonder theatre in old John 
 Street a grain house in your time, 
 so one from York who recently 
 joined us informed me. 
 
 " Although my likeness does not 
 hang in the family line, I bear you 
 small malice. I get a surfeit of 
 their society." Here the ghost 
 sighed, and with the saddest air pos 
 sible tapped her empty snuffbox 
 and went through the act of inhal 
 ing a reviving pinch of strong Span 
 ish. " This girl who has the 
 bloom of me I would befriend, and 
 as the greatness of your ancestors is 
 all that stands in the way of a mar 
 riage with the man of her choice, 
 I have bid them come to meet 
 in
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 you and get their opinions, may 
 hap." 
 
 A tremor went through the 
 room ! More unearthly visitants ? 
 The flesh was creeping on the 
 bones of all the living Knicker 
 bockers! 
 
 " They are waiting for us in Lady 
 Knickerbocker s state-room yonder 
 Sir William tried to kiss me there 
 once after a junket," she continued. 
 " He would not come to-night I 
 fear he was afraid it would be dull." 
 
 She moved over to Jonathan, 
 who was speechless from fright, 
 and laid a shadowy hand on his. 
 Once past the door ledge she began 
 the descent of the hall as if footing 
 the air of some ancient melody. 
 
 112
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 With grim, rebellious face the pres 
 ent head of her house moved with 
 her, apparently against his own vo 
 lition. 
 
 By the one brightly floriated 
 mirror she straightened her osprey 
 plumes and tapped him gently with 
 her fan. " You dance like a foot 
 man, * she said. " Have you go- 
 carts neath your feet?" 
 
 The trembling file of Knicker 
 bockers followed after them, seem 
 ingly blown by the wind, whose dia 
 bolical wailing reverberated through 
 the house. Doors and windows 
 raged and rattled. There were 
 stridulous, uncanny groans from 
 quaking beams. Behind the pan 
 els adown the hall rose and swelled 
 "3
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 the confused murmur of many 
 voices. The echoes of long dead 
 years were reviving. Above them 
 all was a dying requiem of bells, 
 tolling low and mournfully like a 
 warning to belated road-farers that 
 the ghosts of the haughty Knicker 
 bockers were seeking earth again.
 
 Chapter Four:*
 
 141 1 1. _. J-Sii- i L_ 
 
 JJH -^c/y^. 
 
 |S the family neared the 
 long unused state parlor 
 the din grew louder a 
 rising treble of voices, ascending 
 from hoarse trumpet tones to a 
 twittering falsetto, accompanied by 
 a maddening persistent tapping of 
 high heels on the smooth floor. 
 The sounds of shivering glass as a 
 girandole crashed from its joining 
 met their ears. Each second was
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 a discord running wild with panic- 
 striking incidents. 
 
 Julie grasped frantically at the 
 more stalwart Georgina, while 
 clinging to her own garments were 
 the three Mansion girls, screeching 
 like the town s whistles in a March 
 twilight. 
 
 The ghost little Jerusalem feared 
 the most was that of the stern 
 Judge. "Will he know that I 
 have changed my name ? " she 
 wailed. " Oh, sister, I ate up those 
 bracelets he gave me for taking 
 treacle. I sold them to a silver 
 smith and bought French prunes. 
 You know you said that you d 
 as soon eat stewed bull-frogs as 
 anything grown by the Mon- 
 118
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 sieurs, and all York was stewing 
 prunes ! " 
 
 Georgina never turned her head 
 at this remarkable confession. Her 
 features had assumed a strange 
 rigidity; she was as silent as her 
 brother. The shrieks of her nieces, 
 old Juma s incessant lamentations, 
 and the low whispers of the lovers 
 were all unheeded. The racket 
 behind the cobwebbed doors, never 
 opened but for Knickerbocker wed 
 dings and funerals, absorbed her 
 senses. Slowly they were swing 
 ing back for Jonathan and his 
 phantom partner. The delicate 
 odor of sandal-wood, was strength 
 ened by gasps of musk. Into a 
 yellow blinding glare of light the 
 119
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 file of Knickerbockers looked, and 
 their eyes grew gooseberry - like 
 with horror. 
 
 A crowd of shades bedecked in 
 their last earthly garniture were 
 gliding and teetering about ; some 
 dignified as at a stately farce, others 
 hilarious with ungraceful levity. 
 
 As the living Knickerbockers 
 appeared in the room the waggling 
 and chortling fell into a monotone, 
 and the company began to pass in 
 review before them, seemingly de 
 sirous of attracting individual no 
 tice. Few wore the costly attire 
 one would have expected from the 
 tales spread about them by the 
 Knickerbockers of Vesey Street. 
 Several were clad in plain hum- 
 
 I2O
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 hums and torn fustians. One 
 chirpy dame in a moth-eaten tabby 
 hugged a little package of Bohea 
 to her stomacher, unmindful of the 
 fact that the luxury had grown 
 much cheaper since she quitted 
 this sphere. Another, who evi 
 dently thought herself a beauty, 
 wore a false frontage of goat hair 
 before her muslin cap, and ogled 
 Jonathan as she passed, though he 
 did not seem eager for a flirtation 
 with his ugly great-aunt. 
 
 An ungainly yokel stepped on 
 the feet of the Mansion girls, and 
 some bold gentlemen, who had 
 spent a goodly portion of their 
 natural lives in Bridewell, swore at 
 them. Still the awful procession 
 121
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 kept moving on faces were as 
 thick as the tapers glowing in 
 every bracket and candelabra. 
 Bursts of music rose on the wind 
 a wheezing tune that sobbed of past 
 jubilation. Suddenly all the Knick 
 erbockers gasped. Stern Judge 
 Knickerbocker, who had rarely 
 smiled in life, was seen advancing, 
 bent double with laughter and 
 clinging to a figure in a cardinal 
 hoop. 
 
 " Oh, let us cover our eyes," 
 whispered Miss Georgina. " This 
 is more than I can bear." 
 
 " Don t ! " said the lady of the 
 banished portrait. " You have 
 often boasted of your family s in 
 timacy with that queer figure. 
 
 122
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 Through your veneration of him, 
 York has made him into quite a 
 hero. It is the friend of one of the 
 first American Knickerbockers 
 Lord Cornbury ! He was addicted 
 to wearing women s furbelows ! " 
 
 "Gazooks!" exclaimed his Lord 
 ship, in a tone loud enough for the 
 Knickerbockers to hear. "More of 
 those tiresome impertinents ! The 
 next thing the whole of the pre 
 sumptuous clan will be petitioning 
 me for standing room at my routs." 
 
 " Don t go any nearer to them," 
 said the Judge, in the tones of a 
 sycophant. " If they bore you, 
 my dear Corny, I am willing to 
 cut them. You know it is the fash 
 ion on earth to recognize only the most 
 123
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 desirable ancestors, and we can re 
 turn the compliment. Besides it 
 was decreed that I should be jocu 
 lar for the next half century, and 
 I m afraid a too close inspection 
 would cause me to don weepers." 
 
 The group by the doors felt a 
 sickening sensation in their flaccid 
 frames. Jonathan s partner, know 
 ing how grievously they must all 
 have been affected by the change 
 in their parent, turned her head. 
 
 A one-eyed hag was advancing 
 to her. She curtsied low, and pre 
 sented two bits of plaster which had 
 fallen from the ceiling. 
 
 " Messages," she snickered, fum 
 bling with her hands. 
 
 "From Marmaduke and Leoni- 
 124
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 das Barula," read the lady (though 
 no one knows how, for she only 
 observed the niches). "We beg to 
 be excused from corning to-night. 
 To put it mildly, we were raised 
 aloft in Pearl Street Hollow for 
 practising target shooting on coach- 
 drivers, and our necks are still out 
 of joint and not fit to be seen in 
 company." 
 
 As the merriment waxed louder 
 
 a Gobie, who had spent her life as 
 
 a fish-fag, began tapping on the 
 
 panelled wainscot. With a hoarse 
 
 guffaw she turned her piercing ala- 
 
 quine eyes on Miss Julie andsquinted 
 
 " More negus ! More here, you 
 
 slubber-degullions. We Gobies has 
 
 a thirst. Twas what we were 
 
 . 125
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 noted for in life not our learning, 
 great-niece," she mocked, as she 
 turned her head and grimaced at 
 Miss Georgina. 
 
 "Go away!" snuffled that once 
 resolute woman, too weak to com 
 bat any longer. A feeling of de 
 spair was settling upon her like a 
 pall. What if Mrs. Rumbell, or, 
 worse still, if Mrs. Snograss should 
 be passing Knickerbocker House 
 and hear the oaths and ungenteel 
 voices of the supposedly elegant 
 family ? No tap-room fracas at 
 Fraunces could have equalled the 
 deafening hubbub. 
 
 " Beshrew the old fool, she be as 
 jealous for the lies she told of us as 
 a Barbary pigeon." 
 126
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 " Go away ! " continued the sink 
 ing sister of the autocrat of York. 
 
 That distraught-looking gentle 
 man himself was hastening across 
 the room with restorative salts, 
 which one of his daughters always 
 carried in her reticule. As he 
 approached Georgina the Gobie 
 snatched the bottle from his hand 
 and drained it at a gulp. 
 
 "Anything with fire-water for 
 me," she hiccoughed. Then clutch 
 ing hold of him, she sunk her voice 
 to a whisper " I left this sphere 
 for drinking a quart of gillyflower 
 scent ! " 
 
 Julie began to weep softly 
 " Oh, Aunt Jane, if you were only 
 here! Our Aunt Jane was difFer- 
 127
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 ent from these people," she wailed 
 to herself, half apologetically. 
 
 She was fond of studying the pict 
 ure in the other room and could 
 have traced it from memory. Rais 
 ing her eyes, she gave a prolonged 
 shriek. The fish-fag and some of 
 the Makemies were dragging her be 
 loved Jane"over Lady Lyron s court 
 steps, out of the powdering closet. 
 
 The room was becoming up 
 roarious. Doors were opening and 
 shutting again, letting in the moan 
 ing of the bells. The culmination 
 of the buffoonery was approaching. 
 
 "Good, Jane," sobbed Miss 
 Julie. 
 
 " Good, Jane," echoed the cho 
 rus of the spectres. 
 128
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 Reluctant, and feigning a great 
 stress of emotion, the poor lady 
 was pushed into the illuminated 
 space below the hundred-taper drop. 
 She looked like some pretty long- 
 vaulted effigy. In her hands she 
 still carried the spray of milk-weed. 
 
 The noise lessened for a moment. 
 Jane gazed reproachfully at her 
 niece, Julie, as if the indiscreet 
 wish were the cause of her pres 
 ent misery, and said, in a pensive 
 voice, " I did not want to come to 
 night." 
 
 " I always knew you were a mod 
 est woman," said Jonathan, recov 
 ering a little of his once audacious 
 manner. 
 
 "Modest forsooth ! " giggled the 
 129
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 fish-fag diabolically, and seizing one 
 of Jonathan s fat hands in her bony 
 fingers, she drew it over the other s 
 face. 
 
 " Look, see the white streaks on 
 her now ! She reddened, the hussy, 
 or I m not a Gobie ! " 
 
 " Yes, I was vain," answered the 
 most prated-about of female Knick 
 erbockers. " I used countless beau- 
 tifiers pearl powders, cherry salve, 
 cupid s tints. Everything Mr. 
 Gaine sold at the Crown. They 
 hooked the men. When pearl 
 powders came upon the market, I 
 received three offers Jenks a 
 tutor at King s College not the 
 President, as the report remains on 
 earth wrote me a poem in the 
 130
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 Weekly Gossiper, called Pink and 
 White Amanda. " 
 
 " Jane Knickerbocker," said the 
 ghost who was giving the party, 
 " your family has spent many hours 
 telling the present generation of 
 your womanly virtues, and they 
 cannot fail in having an overween 
 ing respect for any opinion you may 
 utter. Shall this girl who bears 
 your blood marry yon youth ? " 
 
 " Let them wed by all means, if 
 they see advantage in it. I vow if 
 I could come back to earth and live 
 my twenty-eight years over again, 
 I would join hands with Jean, our 
 Elizabeth-Town perfumer." 
 
 Lord Cornbury and the shades 
 about him were bowed with mirth.
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 "Janet, you giddy girl, though 
 half the age of most of us, I pro 
 test you are becoming a wit. You 
 will be getting into society next," 
 he cried. " I shall never be mean 
 enough to tell that in sublunary 
 times one of the first American 
 Knickerbockers knew me intimate 
 ly only as my valet." 
 
 "A fig for your class distinctions," 
 called the fair indignant, hunting for 
 a rouge rag. " Years ago we heard 
 twas money made the court circle 
 at York.* Why, you must remem 
 ber how you feared your creditors 
 when they first came below." 
 
 " Alack, indeed," said his Lord 
 ship plaintively, " this hooped pet 
 ticoat was never paid for." 
 132
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 After dishevelled Jane had van 
 ished again into the powdering 
 closet whence she had first emerged, 
 the lady of the banished portrait 
 moved over to Patricia and her 
 lover. Standing side by side the re 
 semblance between the two women 
 was remarkable. One was the bud 
 ding flower ; the other the fragile 
 shadow of a beautiful life. 
 
 "Her kind will always exist," 
 she said. " They marry for pearl 
 powders and other vanities, and 
 usually seek, or are forced into, a 
 gilded cage. There, like jackdaws, 
 they call out their possessions from 
 dawn till night, and the heedless 
 world passing by sees the sparkling 
 of the gold, mistakes the caws for 
 133
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 singing, and applauds. I knew 
 love the ideal love that smiles at 
 one from the wayside when one is 
 seeking it in the well-kept gardens. 
 I paid for it with my heart s blood, 
 and I never had cause to regret. 
 Over the rough places of my earthly 
 journey it followed me with radiant 
 illusions. The April winds were 
 sweeter, the sunshine on the roads 
 warmer. I felt all the raptures 
 mother nature gives her children. 
 That is why I could leave the 
 other world to do you this service. 
 Love is the one thing death cannot 
 lull to sleep ! " 
 
 Patricia tried to answer, but the 
 power of speech had left her for 
 the moment. Juma s face was
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 glowing with peaceful smiles. He 
 bent low on his right knee to kiss the 
 diaphanous draperies of the shade. 
 
 Outside in the night there arose 
 the low murmurous chanting of the 
 town waits moving homeward. A 
 chime of bells, as soft as a blessing. 
 The thorns had fallen from the 
 brows of love. 
 
 While Patricia s benefactress gave 
 her message the circle of ghosts was 
 making way for the other Knick 
 erbockers to enter. On closer in 
 spection, many of them proved to 
 be tame sort of animals enough. 
 From a distance one monster of a 
 woman had given the impression 
 that she was trying to bully pos 
 terity. Perhaps this was due to 
 
 35
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 the long feathers in her head-dress, 
 that nodded maliciously at her most 
 placid motion. As she bowed to 
 her descendants a plume tickled 
 the tip of Jonathan s nose and he 
 jumped back slightly. " I am Me- 
 lodia Mudford Makemie," she said, 
 " and I thought you would like to 
 meet me, as I started the Christ 
 mas fashion of giving hot-bag cov 
 ers in York." 
 
 " Hot-bag covers ! " reiterated 
 Miss Georgina, astonished. " I have 
 always said mittens. Why, in my 
 ancestry book it is noted that in 
 the year 1768 you gave one hun 
 dred pairs of silk mittens to Gruel 
 Hall, the home for tiresome gen 
 tlewomen." 
 
 136
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 " The years play great hoaxes," 
 chuckled the ghost. " Those an 
 cestry books are a standard joke 
 with us, and I believe they are 
 looked upon with some suspicion 
 in your own world." 
 
 Melodia seemed so friendly, Ju 
 lie gained courage enough to purse 
 up her lips for a speech, but the 
 shade anticipated her. 
 
 " I know what you are going to 
 ask why did I make such a wide 
 frill about the bottle s neck? Tis 
 easy to explain. I never took my 
 bag to church to warm my hands 
 twas my stomach ! " 
 
 " Oh ! " said Miss Julie, faltering 
 slightly, fearing that this relative 
 might become vulgar like the ter- 
 137
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 rible Gobies still dancing about 
 Lord Cornbury. 
 
 " Yes," continued the other, 
 " when William fell asleep during 
 the sermon I used to sink down 
 well in the pew, put the frill up 
 to my mouth, squeeze the end of 
 the bag, and get as much as a dram 
 of whiskey." 
 
 " Oh ! " exclaimed Julie, aghast; 
 "a hot-water bag for whiskey!" 
 
 "Why not?" said the ghost, an 
 grily. Her manner was that of one 
 who had expected commendation 
 for her cleverness. The plumes 
 in her head-dress were shaking 
 violently. 
 
 " Why not, miss ? " she asked 
 again. " You are far too nice. 
 138
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 At any rate you know the reason 
 for those tomfool bag - covers. 
 Twas to deaden the smell of liquor. 
 Your generation of Yorkers does 
 not appreciate them as we did." 
 Then her voice broke into derisive 
 sniggers, as she glided away. 
 
 And now upon the strange com 
 pany fell the bellowing of some 
 faithful passing watchman. 
 
 " Midnight s here and fair 
 weather ! " 
 
 A sleepy cock crowed in a dis 
 tant Chelsea barn. 
 
 The faces of the shades began to 
 blanch and assume the lack-lustre 
 tint of ashes. The lady of the 
 banished portrait touched Patricia 
 as if giving her a last embrace, and
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 her smile at Richard Sheridan was 
 full of good wishes. 
 
 " Do you consent to the mar 
 riage," she whispered, bending over 
 Jonathan, " or shall we come to 
 morrow night?" 
 
 " I do," he answered hoarsely. 
 
 " Then we go in peace," sighed 
 the ghost. 
 
 There was a flutter of garments 
 and the lights vanished suddenly. 
 Only the scents of old-time per 
 fumes remained, sweet as the hearts 
 of vanished roses. 
 
 A cackle of feeble laughter floated 
 back to the room as if the depart 
 ing Knickerbockers were still mak 
 ing merry on the stairway to the 
 other world. 
 
 140
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 The song of the weary bells 
 was over. Peace had fallen upon 
 the earth, and in Lady Tyron s 
 mouldering parlor the vials of a 
 foolish pride were despoiled for 
 ever. Through the mystical light 
 the living of the family seemed to 
 be strangely transfigured. Jonathan 
 Knickerbocker, the autocrat of 
 York, walked with his head bowed 
 upon his breast. The hard linea 
 ments of Georgina s face were soft 
 ened. Ofttimes she turned un 
 easily, half expecting some awful 
 apparition to emerge before her. 
 As for Miss Julie, she moved like 
 one in a dreamland of her own. 
 The tears of the night had fallen 
 upon that little flower in her heart 
 141
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 and brought it back to life. 
 Henceforth it would fill all her 
 remaining years with fragrance. 
 The three eldest Knickerbocker 
 daughters clung to her as if she 
 were the guiding light of their 
 starved souls. 
 
 Suddenly she left them, and went 
 to her brother. 
 
 " I am glad they came, Jona 
 than," she faltered; "we had for 
 gotten God made us all in His 
 own image. He gave us the flow 
 ers and the stars, the sweet winds 
 and the spring-times the voices of 
 children and the songs of birds. 
 Every man is rich if he but knew 
 it, and those who are only rich in 
 pride are the poorest of the race." 
 142
 
 The Ghosts of Their Ancestors 
 
 Over by the shimmering case 
 ment, the youth and the girl crept 
 nearer to each other. Softly he 
 drew her to him until her face was 
 close to his. The night was dead. 
 Down old Broadway, over the 
 Bowling Green, the Easter dawn 
 tiptoed into the silent city.
 
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