e Delaware, and made a sudden appearance before Fort
Casimir. Having summoned the astonished garrison by a terrific blast from
the trumpet of the long-winded Van Corlear, he demanded, in a tone of
thunder, an instant surrender of the fort. To this demand, Suen Skytte,
the wind-dried commandant, replied in a shrill, whiffling voice, which, by
reason of his extreme spareness, sounded like the wind whistling through a
broken bellows--"that he had no very strong reason for refusing, except
that the demand was particularly disagreeable, as he had been ordered to
maintain his post to the last extremity." He requested time, therefore, to
consult with Governor Risingh, and proposed a truce for that purpose.

The choleric Peter, indignant at having his rightful fort so treacherously
taken from him, and thus pertinaciously withheld, refused the proposed
armistice, and swore by the pipe of St. Nicholas, which, like the sacred
fire, was never extinguished, that unless the fort were surrendered in ten
minutes, he would incontinently storm the works, make all the garrison run
the gauntlet, and split their scoundrel of a commander like a pickled
shad. To give this menace the greater effect, he drew forth his trusty
sword, and shook it at them with such a fierce and vigorous motion that
doubtless, if it had not been exceeding rusty, it would have lightened
terror into the eyes and hearts of the enemy. He then ordered his men to
bring a broadside to bear upon the fort, consisting of two swivels, three
muskets, a long duck fowling-piece, and two braces of horse-pistols.

In the meantime the sturdy Van Corlear marshaled all his forces, and
commenced his warlike operations. Distending his cheeks like a very
Boreas, he kept up a most horrific twanging of his trumpet--the lusty
choristers of Sing-Sing broke forth into a hideous song of battle--the
warriors of Breuckelen and the Wallabout blew a potent and astounding
blast on their conch shells, altogether forming as outrageous a concerto
as though five thousand French fiddlers were displaying their skill in a
modern overture.

Whether the formidable front of war thus suddenly presented smote the
garrison with sore dismay--or whether the concluding terms of the summons,
which mentioned that he should surrender "at discretion," were mistaken by
Suen Skytte, who, though a Swede, was a very considerate, easy-tempered
man, as a compliment to his discretion, I will not take upon me to say;
certai