He was a great promoter of public institutions, such
as beef-steak societies and catch-clubs. He presided at all public
dinners, and was the first that introduced turtle from the West
Indies. He improved the breed of race-horses and game-cocks, and was
so great a patron of modest merit, that any one who could sing a good
song, or tell a good story, was sure to find a place at his table.
He was a member, too, of the corporation, made several laws for the
protection of game and oysters, and bequeathed to the board a large
silver punch-bowl, made out of the identical porringer before
mentioned, and which is in the possession of the corporation to this
very day.
Finally, he died, in a florid old age, of an apoplexy, at a
corporation feast, and was buried with great honours in the yard of
the little Dutch church in Garden-street, where his tombstone may
still be seen, with a modest epitaph in Dutch, by his friend Mynheer
Justus Benson, an ancient and excellent poet of the province.
The foregoing tale rests on better authority than most tales of the
kind, as I have it at second-hand from the lips of Dolph Heyliger
himself. He never related it till towards the latter part of his life,
and then in great confidence, (for he was very discreet,) to a few of
his particular cronies at his own table over a supernumerary bowl of
punch; and, strange as the hobgoblin parts of the story may seem,
there never was a single doubt expressed on the subject by any of his
guests.
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