Matthew at Large

"Catharine Romeyn, Or The Bride's Forgiveness" (1890)

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About This Text

This is the 7th in a series of articles written in 1890 and 1891 by William Wordsworth Goodrich (1841-1907), professionally known as W.W. Goodrich, an architect who practiced in Atlanta between 1889 and 1894.

Ever the delusionist, here Goodrich paints a story of himself as a school boy of Dutch descent. The story is set in the town of Kingston, New York, where Goodrich was possibly raised, and practiced architecture from 18751 to 18782. In this story, Goodrich makes extensive use of place names from that area of Upstate New York. Fox Hall Road, for instance, still exists in Kingston as Foxhall Avenue.

It is incredibly hard to nail down any firm details of Goodrich's early life, but it appears that his family was from Kingston, while census records show a person of his name and birthdate living in different households in Harmony, New York, near Pennsylvania, in 18503; and New York City in 18604.

Goodrich uses his fictionalized reminiscence as a framing device for another tale — one just as terrible as any of his other stories, although it is notable for its unusually progressive central character: Catherine, a "brave, self-conscious and noble woman" who steers her fiancé's sloop down the Hudson River on New Year's Eve, racing past her bitterly jealous ex-suitor.

For reasons that are unclear, Catherine's ex-suitor sheds his anger upon being overtaken by her sloop and later asks forgiveness for his surly behavior. Having tasted independence by steering the ship, Catherine promptly goes to church and marries her fiancé at midnight. This was, after all, the 19th century.

Goodrich was no doubt pleased to impress his readers with an arsenal of nautical terms: jib, belay, topsail, mainsail and the like. The best of the bunch is — inarguably — lee scuppers. Look up the definition yourself.

Goodrich seems to have had an affinity for the name Catherine — it may have been the name of his mother5. In 1901 he wrote a poem called Cathrine, about a young girl of Scottish — not Dutch – descent6. The poem was published in multiple newspapers across the country. A representative passage follows:

"This little Miss, we've named her a dear,
Old fashioned-name;
'Tis sweet to call her Cathrine, for with
her
The fairies came."

It isn't very good.

Originally published in the Atlanta Journal newspaper on December 31, 1890, this article has been lightly edited to correct for spelling and grammatical errors.

Catharine Romeyn,

Or

The Bride's Forgiveness.

A New Year's Story of the Hudson River.

Written for the Journal.

On Fox Hall road, in Kingston, was a gothic church, whose pointed spire towering to the ethereal blue, that canopied the Katterskills, as well as the noble river of Hendrik Hudson, upon which Rip Van Winkle first looked when he opened his eyes from his long sleep. Upon the apex of the spire was the cross of the infinite Saviour, its golden letters "In Hoc Signo Vinces" assuring the observer that the Saviour was, and always will be, the divine mediator between finite and infinite.

Dominee Fort ascended his pulpit, as the old chapel bell began to toll, its peal of silvery notes rang out upon the evening air, calling the old and young to witness that the scythe of Father time was speedily weakening in its efforts of destruction, and its arduous uses of, and during the first closing year were at the end. At midnight of each closing year, and at the first moments of the new, was always a marriage, most solemnly solemnized by the church and its communicants.

Dominee Fort was a most striking figure, clothed in a long white silk gown, his long white hair and beard of snowy whiteness, falling way down upon his back and chest; with a pair of big, round, gold-rimmed glasses, which he always wore, made him at all times a figure awe-inspiring to the Knickerbocker youngsters. And we were no exception, although we had frequently been to New Amsterdam and did not think we were so green as the boys show had not yet taken the packet for the ocean's entreport (New York city). The pulpit was perched up to the underside of the lower chords of the roof truss and could only be reached by a winding staircase at its back. As we look back upon those scenes of our youth, and see this good old man in his box looking down upon us, we can but think of how the back of our necks used to ache, after listening to his sermon of an hour or over, as we had to look up at an angle of forty-five degrees to see the dominee. And if we fell asleep by the way of showing our appreciation of the dominee that we were not afraid of his anathemas, we were sure to get the placky's striking blows when we got home, and then the dominee would not fare so well in our minds, reasoning as we did that he had no right to talk so long or so loud on subjects that did not interest our youthful minds, nor could we understand.

How quaintly we were dressed in those times! Long pants, home-made by mamma and home-spun caps with big ear-laps and sole-leather fronts; coats that would fit older and larger boys; home-made, that had done service to our elders; shoes with wooden soles and leather strings, worn only to church and Sabbath-school; as soon as boys could go alone, put in pants (either side was front), and long ones at that. And back in the Catskills to this day the old Holland people still adhere to the days of 1850.

The business on the Hudson river was done by sailing vessels, mostly by sloops of one hundred tons. With their big jibs, flying jibs, main sail and top sail, they presented a dashing appearances that was exhilarating to the well wishes of each skipper's admirers.

The Addison had just been launched. As she left the ways, full rigged, for her trial trip, her skipper, Hans Van Schoonovan, with his affianced bride, stood on the knight heads. Catharine Romeyn, a proud Knickerbocker beauty, a stately brunette with true Dutch accent, christened the vessel the Addison by breaking a bottle of old Holland gin over her bow spirit. As she floated upon Esopus creek at Roundout, the ebb-tide just making, the skipper ordered the sailors to raise the jib, while Miss Romeyn took the wheel. “Clear away the mainsail! Hoist away! Belay all!” were the rapid orders of Hans, as the Addison made headway. She rapidly showed her heels. "Shake out the topsail! Run up the flying jib, belay all," and sailed out Rondout creek. Miss Romeyn as "wheelsman and sailing master", she kept her in the wind's eye. As she turned the light house entering the Hudson river the crack sloops were in waiting to give her a brush to test her speed. Now, Hans had an enemy who had been an aspirant for the hand and heart of his affianced, who was the skipper and sailed the Hudson as her sailing master. She had been and was the crack sloop of the river, and her skipper, William Deitrich never forgot Hans for capturing the hand of Catharine Romeyn. As the two vessels came in stays, and Deitrich saw Kate at the wheel, he was furious at her audacity. Shaking out his kites he ordered a chase, the wind sou! sou! east! blowing twenty knots. The barometer was falling, and as the vessel rounded Esopus light, each staggering under full sail, the water rising in the lee scuppers. Hans ordered his hatches battered and his cabin locked. "We'll see who is fastest;" taking one of his new brooms he ran it to the top mast-head, and closer hauled his sheets. Great white caps came bows on, the Addison rose on the crest of the waves like a duck, the Hudson fast falling behind in the wake of the Addison, buried her nose under each swell, this new greyhound of the Hudson, as she passed Hyde park, was the object of all eyes, as Deitrich had said in his braggadocia that he could not be beaten nor outsailed, and yet, here was a girl not twenty, sailing-master of her future husband's vessel, she was keel hauling his vessel out of sight. Plucky girl! And there are thousands more like you when danger threatens, who can handle the wheel in all its watches with an expertness and dexterity that becomes a brave, self-conscious and noble woman. Poughkeepsie was soon passed, Newburg bay broadening out towards the highlands was entered. As Kate swept by the deck at Newburg the steamboats of that time rang their bells and whistled the brave girl a ringing salute, the Norwich giving chase under full steam. Sweeping close to Cornwall and tacking ship, she laid her course for New Hamburg. Dietrich, had tacked at Poughkeepsie and was sailing home, sadly and badly disappointed. Kate soon overhauled him a Esopus light bound up, the Addison prancing along like a race horse was a thing of life, and Kate was a sweet bareheaded girl. The thrill of joy could be seen in her eyes, her rosy cheeks kissed by the spray, her long trailing tresses flying in the winds, made her an object that excited the admiration of all the tars, and as she flew by them, her nostrils dilated, her grip on the wheel only intensified, she was the very personification of beauty, health and quiet determination – brave beautiful Kate. Deitrich dropped his colors and hauled down his broom that he had had at his mast head for years and as Kate swept by she waved her apron at him, crossed his bow and smiled. And Deitrich! He cried! Kate's smile had melted his enmity towards her Hans, thereafter they were warm friends.

Hans and Kate walked up the aisle, Kate between the elder and Hans between the deacons as the bell tolled twelve o'clock midnight. Ring out the old-ring in the new, chanted the old Dutch preacher. The flickerings of the tallow candles and whale oil lamps, making the gold rim of his glasses glint and shine. He said Hans Van Schoonoven, do you take Catherine Romeyn to be your only wife, and to love cherish, protect and support her, for and during your life? I do. Catharine Romeyn, do you take Hans Van Schoonoven to be your husband and he only to love for his natural life? I do. Has any one in this congregation any reason why these two, this man and woman, should not be united in the holy bonds of matrimony? Slowly there came forward a man, whilst all eyes were instantly upon him. He was William Deitrich. Stepping in front of the elders, he said, in a low, clear voice, with much emotion: “I love Catharine Romeyn. She does not love me. I have hated Hans Van Schoonoven. I am sorry I did so. I was wrong. As the New Year is here, I ask forgiveness of Hans and of his future bride. I know they will as fully forgive me as I have been in the wrong, nay more, they will never remember it against me. Dominee Fort at this frank confession asked the couple to signify their wishes. Hans quickly forgave with a firm grasp of the hand, and speechless, the tears coursing down his cheeks, he led Deitrich to Kate. She was too full of joy for utterance, but clasping their hands together, Dietrich blessed them and prayed God Almighty to witness that the future of Hans and Kate should be as the vier's seins when drawn ashore – full of fish so that the meshes of the net break. Throwing some rice upon the new married couple, Dominee Fort blessed them, telling Kate that, as she was such an expert sailor, she had the ocean of life before her, and by her dexterity and alertness she can sail this life over and enter that future sea of golden beauty with her husband, and whether the barometer was falling or rising hers would be a tranquil life of Christian firmness and lovable charity.

W.W. Goodrich

References

  1. Advertisement. The Daily Freeman, October 5, 1875, p. 1.
  2. Advertisement. The Daily Freeman, December 9, 1878, p. 2.
  3. United States Census, 1850, William Goodrich, Harmony, Chautauqua, New York, United States.
  4. United States Census, 1860, William Goodrich, 2nd District 7th Ward New York City, New York, New York, United States.
  5. "Death of C.E. Goodrich". Atlanta Journal, April 22, 1892, p.5.
  6. "Cathrine". The Buffalo Sunday News, October 13, 1901, p.1.