e of the
Dutch government, and particularly just before the capture of
New-Amsterdam, and the subjugation of the province by the English
squadron. About that time the storm-ship was repeatedly seen in the
Tappaan Zee, and about Weehawk, and even down as far as Hoboken; and
her appearance was supposed to be ominous of the approaching squall in
public affairs, and the downfall of Dutch domination.

Since that time, we have no authentic accounts of her; though it is
said she still haunts the highlands and cruises about Point-no-point.
People who live along the river, insist that they sometimes see her in
summer moonlight; and that in a deep still midnight, they have heard
the chant of her crew, as if heaving the lead; but sights and sounds
are so deceptive along the mountainous shores, and about the wide bays
and long reaches of this great river, that I confess I have very
strong doubts upon the subject.

It is certain, nevertheless, that strange things have been seen in
these highlands in storms, which are considered as connected with the
old story of the ship. The captains of the river craft talk of a
little bulbous-bottomed Dutch goblin, in trunk hose and sugar-loafed
hat, with a speaking trumpet in his hand, which they say keeps about
the Dunderberg.[16] They declare they have heard him, in stormy
weather, in the midst of the turmoil, giving orders in Low Dutch for
the piping up of a fresh gust of wind, or the rattling off of another
thunder-clap. That sometimes he has been seen surrounded by a crew of
little imps in broad breeches and short doublets; tumbling
head-over-heels in the rack and mist, and playing a thousand gambols
in the air; or buzzing like a swarm of flies about Antony's Nose; and
that, at such times, the hurry-scurry of the storm was always
greatest. One time, a sloop, in passing by the Dunderberg, was
overtaken by a thunder-gust, that came scouring round the mountain,
and seemed to burst just over the vessel. Though tight and well
ballasted, yet she laboured dreadfully, until the water came over the
gunwale. All the crew were amazed, when it was discovered that there
was a little white sugar-loaf hat on the mast-head, which was known at
once to be that of the Heer of the Dunderberg. Nobody, however, dared
to climb to the mast-head, and get rid of this terrible hat. The sloop
continued labouring and rocking, as if she would have rolled her mast
overboard. She seemed in continual danger either of upse