Eens Engelschman's eerste indrukken van New-York De Aarde en haar Volken, 1917

A weary boat finally slips into the quiet cove of the Ambrose Channel, and a small, eager guideboard climbs aboard, greeting the newcomers with a friendly “I guess you’re late.” The first glimpse of Manhattan’s towering silhouette instantly turns the harbor into a storybook sky, its glittering spires and bustling bridges recalling the wonder of childhood fantasies. As the ship steadies, the narrator marvels at how the city’s steel and glass seem to pulse with a purpose both practical and poetic, each floor a line in an unwritten epic.

From that rooftop view the city feels alive with restless energy, its streets a ceaseless choreography of commerce, ambition, and fleeting moments. The writer observes how the skyline, shaped by relentless calculation and the “almighty dollar,” still manages to inspire a strange, almost reverent awe. Early impressions capture a place where art and industry mingle, hinting at the ever‑shifting spirit that will define New York for anyone stepping onto its iron‑clad ground for the first time.