scene by spouting great streams of water into the air as they sailed — streams that have force enough to knock down brick walls. From the start to the finish there was no place where the pageant made such an impressive display as between the shores of the incomparable Hudson. It was a picture of the civilization of the nineteenth century, too vast for a painter and inexpressible in words. From the vessels in the procession the spectacle was even more remarkable. No other city in the world has such a stretch of water-front as New York, and the space was all taken. The tops of the tall buildings were crowded with spectators, also the masts of vessels at anchor, the roofs of cars and boats, and Digitized by Microsoft® 52 The Hudson River every foot of shore along the whole route. Staten Island and New Jersey were not beholden to New York for a view, but occu- pied their own roofs and side-hills. Riverside Park, which is three miles long, afforded a continuous bluff that was thoroughly appreciated by thousands and thousands of sight-seers, while the handsome mansions on the park drive were generously thrown open to invited guests. When the war-ships came in front of Grant's tomb they anchored while the great procession of civic .boats passed by, and at every masthead floated the American ensign with all the colors of other nations, denoting that the foreign vessels were taking part in a ceremonial that was Amer- ican and national. The vessel which closed the procession was the Vamoose, restraining her speed like a greyhound in leash. It was altogether a great display, and one of which New York may ever be justly proud. "The queen of the western waves sat by her waters in glory and in light all day, proud of the past and hopeful of the future. " Space fails in which to print even a list of the nota- ble water parades that have passed Manhattan Island. How many were the thousands of people that risked annihilation to catch. even a glimpse of the warships that had made history under the guns of Spanish forts and aided in the destruction of the Spanish navy! Through what heat of sun, or bitterness of wind, or cheerless, driving rain, have not the population of New York stood, hour after hour, to see a fleet of marine monsters, with bunting streaming and yards manned, sweep by in glorious procession! As a race we appreciate spectacles: we love the gleam of metal, the concourse of people, the rolling of drums, and the fanfare of trumpets. We love a parade, and we fall into paroxysms of patriotism when a hero appears. We have only one limit : we do not wish our Digitized by Microsoft® Festivals and Pageants 53 enthusiasms to be remembered against us. When we tell, a hero that he is a demigod and can have the Presidency of the United States for the asking, we resent being taken too seriously. A TOW GOING OUT TO SEA Digitized by Microsoft® Chapter V Along the Manhattan Shore IT may not be a generally appreciated fact that Manhattan Island is the very home of modesty. From the earliest times the habit of New York has been rather to do things than to talk about them after they are done. The shore-line that stretches northward from the Battery has been the scene of exploits enough to inspire a volume of epics or to make the lasting reputation of a dozen ordinary cities. The traditions of the river shore are marked usually by a simple directness that suggests the Chronicles of the Hebrews. They fill here and there a few lines of an old journal, or are parenthetically referred to in some manual of obsolete events. So and so did such and such a deed, and there was an end of it. We have a sample of such tales in the following vera- cious narrative: Previous to 1812, a riverman, or some one connected with one of the markets along- shore, was impressed by the captain of a British vessel. The people of the neighbourhood, roused by this high- handed proceeding, seized a boat belonging to the said captain, broke it up, and burned it. They then com- 54 Digitized by Microsoft® Digitized by Microsoft® Digitized by Microsoft® Along the Manhattan Shore 57 pelled the captain to release his prisoner. From that day Shanghai-ing fell into disrepute along the North River. At Cruger's Dock occurred one of the deeds which in any other city under the sun would have been cele- brated in song and woven into story, but which in New York was allowed to go almost unrecorded. Out of some dusty pile of records one draws the scanty ac-