Like Beads for Manhattan: The Perpetuation of a Cliché
One the many myths that blur the story of the Dutch “purchase” of Manhattan—one that is firmly cemented in the popular psyche—says that the price was mere “beads and baubles.”
by Peter A. Douglas
In addition to entering long ago America’s misguided collective memory, the story of Peter Minuit’s “beads and trinkets” that he is said to have given to the Indians for Manhattan in 1626 has, sadly for historical truth, succeeded in gaining an irritating linguistic foothold in the expression “beads for Manhattan.”
The allusion is clear, and the writer or speaker must be at least vaguely aware of its origin, though clearly not the facts. It’s well known that what the Indians received were goods worth sixty guilders—metal tools and household items that were useful and valuable to the natives—but the old myth of beads and trinkets is alive and well, and receives a regular polishing. The beads were a nineteenth century invention, along with their $24 value, the futile and misleading Victorian-era equivalent of the sixty guilders. Thus were spawned two persistent myths that live on in our time as familiar clichés.
Still in the wine cellar—a common place for this phrase—we can read the following about Merlot: “I raced off and managed to find a magnum of that very wine at a local retailer for just over $200, Now that feels like beads for Manhattan. … Today, the cheapest bottle I can find Downunder is A$1,800…”
Again, in 2016 the Cincinnati Enquirer contained a comment about the trading of baseball players: “Leake-for-Duvall looks good at the moment. Latos-for-DeSclafani looks like beads for Manhattan.” This deal was presumably a good one.
This is a quaint, colorful, though rather strained way of indicating that a bargain is, or may be, struck in a transaction, though the “beads” reference is likely to be confusing to some people. Its transparency relies on the reader being familiar with the old “beads and trinkets” fairy tale from 400 years ago, which is by no means guaranteed, and its success in conveying the intended sense is hard to judge, and surely it often misfires.
On the other hand, sometimes there’s something snappish and accusatory in the use of “beads for Manhattan” when it’s used to describe some sort of unfair pricing or other financial injustice—where something precious or very desirable has been obtained for little outlay, an obvious nod to the allegation often made against the Dutch in their negotiations with the Manhattan Indians. If one offers or exchanges “beads for Manhattan” one is accused, like the maligned Dutch, of being deceitful by overvaluing—or pretending to value—what you have in order to gain more cheaply than is fair what you want from another.
This comparison can be used to convey an objection to too niggardly an offer for something seen as worth more (“That can’t be a serious bid—that’s beads for Manhattan”) or something less than expected or hoped for (“That’s an insulting offer, it’s like beads for Manhattan”). It can also be used adjectivally (“That’s a beads for Manhattan proposition”), occasionally with hyphens (“He tried to make a beads-for-Manhattan deal”).
A blatant and discouraging example of knee-jerk blindness in this area of historical fact and fiction occurred when a book entitled Like Beads for Manhattan: Zen and the Art of Personal Financial Management by Marcus Condit was published in 2012. As if the title weren’t bothersome enough, this is the book’s exasperating chapter one opening paragraph: “We learned in school how the first settlers on the island that is now known as Manhattan traded what has become the most valuable piece of real estate on the planet for nothing more than a few flashy trinkets.” Unfortunately the author may well be correct in asserting this memory from school days. The muddled parallel continues, introducing the theme of the book: “And, like beads for Manhattan, a lot of our spending accomplishes nothing more than robbing us of our potential to build financial security and the peace of mind that goes with it.” The untutored reader is, presumably, to identify with the “swindled” Indians.
For the careless and the innocent, it seems that this clichéd error is easy to slip into. That the slapdash phrase exists at all is frustrating, and its popularity is a sad tribute to the tenacity of this remarkably enduring fantasy of the beads. Every time it’s used, for whatever reason, it reinforces and perpetuates this misapprehension. Surely one should hesitate before taking financial advice from an author who so unthinkingly snatched at this old chestnut.
But this old chestnut has an impressive longevity. Having taken place 400 years ago, it’s surprising that anything connected with the Dutch acquisition of Manhattan has become, and remains, such an abused and deathless cliché. Allusions to Minuit’s 1626 transaction can be found in all kinds of human interaction and pursuit—writing, speech, finance, politics, and commerce.
In some form or other, the stubborn reference to the $24 and the infamous “trinkets” evolved into a lively and enduring myth. All too often this is done in a sort of unthinking, automatic way, though just why the ancient Dutch deal should spring so readily to mind is unclear—unless we accept that these myths have penetrated deeply into the fabric of popular culture and expression.
But it’s a fact that in one form or another this strained motif is well established, and very often it’s necessary to read carefully in order to determine whether the payment in “beads” is good or bad. The reference may strike the writer or speaker as original and clever, but it is in fact quite stale and hackneyed. It may be supposed that it’s a neat way to make a comparison between two financial deals, or as an introduction to something connected with New York City—or pushed onto almost any topic. It comes across as a contrived and clichéd expression that usually stands out as awkward, inappropriate, and forced—not to mention the central fact that it invariably communicates the false and relentless myth of the $24, the “swindle,” and Peter Minuit’s contemptible knick- knacks.
A handful of other examples will demonstrate this paucity of imagination. In the October 14, 1946, edition of Time magazine we read: “Since the Indians sold Manhattan Island to Peter Minuit for $24 worth of trinkets in 1626, its face has been changed out of all knowledge.” The article goes on to detail the rehabilitation of property on the East Side. 1 All the writer wanted to do was say how much New York has changed, yet the bizarre cultural imperative of the old Minuit-Indian deal seemed a totally natural and casual introduction to this idea.
In the Congressional Record for the House for May 7, 1997, Congressman Kevin Brady of Texas began a speech in this way: “Mr. Speaker, on this day in 1626 a wise Dutchman named Peter Minuit traded $24 of trinkets for the island of Manhattan. It is commonly agreed that Minuit received the better end of the deal. Whenever it comes to highway funding, however, a lot of taxpayers find themselves on the opposite end of the situation, on the bad end of the deal.”
This is a rather forced comparison to illustrate how someone’s getting a bad deal. The reference to the 1626 deal is so stunningly irrelevant to the matter at hand (apart from the pointless coincidence of dates) that mentioning it seriously detracts from the persuasive rhetoric that the speaker sought. Apart from showing off about knowing what the date meant, one has to wonder why Mr. Brady thought it was germane to the occasion.
From Idaho in 2008 we can come across the following post, which shows some sympathy with the Indians: “The deal Baker County struck with Idaho Power was like beads for Manhattan. We got nothing meaningful out of it.”
On the other hand, Minuit and his trinkets are sometimes used to illustrate a good deal, depending on which party one favors. In a real estate publication in 2001, the writer feels compelled to introduce his point by digging up Minuit’s ancient transaction: “In 1624 [sic] Peter Minuit bought the island of Manhattan for $24 in trinkets, thus establishing a precedent of foreign investment in U.S. real estate that is still going strong.” 3 This use seems a bit more pertinent as the subject is real estate and foreign investments. Clearly this writer admires the Dutch bargain, as does the writer of this article from 1998: “Not since Peter Minuit picked up the rights to Manhattan for $24 worth of trinkets has anyone gotten more for less.” 4
Another real estate company in Maryland has jumped on the same bandwagon by invoking Minuit’s dealings showing a somewhat more appropriate connection to enliven their assertion of the importance of their special capabilities in real estate negotiations. Their advice is for the benefit of the Indians, who they believe to have been conned because they lacked “a knowledgeable partner when navigating the complexities of real estate.” The company’s insipid self-promotion goes on to say that the 1626 tale “reminds us of how critical it is to have the right expertise when dealing with property transactions.” Four hundred years later, they’re there for them. The nature of the company’s real estate trade makes these references a bit more relevant than many of Minuit’s appearances, yet they ruin what flimsy persuasiveness they might have had by getting the rest wrong—by mentioning “$24 worth of beads and trinkets,” and that their firm is there to ensure that “you never feel like you’re giving away Manhattan for a handful of beads.” And, as if it’s still not clear, we’re treated to their assurance that “Manhattan’s worth is astronomical, a far cry from those beads and trinkets.” 5
From 1995 we’re presented with this hazy but somehow very memorable event again, alluding to the hypothetical beads and trinkets fiddle by the dastardly Dutch that rings shamefully, though unfairly, down the ages, again helping to add a touch of unnatural drama to the dull business prose: “The legacy of the great Manhattan swindle—when Dutch traders bought the island for just $24—haunts more than Native Americans. For centuries thereafter, swashbuckling entrepreneurs and massive corporations have paid only a pittance for public land rights.” 6
And in case there was any doubt about the survival and continuing blind use of this hoary old myth, we see this 2008 article leader: “Peter Minuit exchanged Manhattan for some trinkets; Michael Bloomberg exchanged it for 37 third terms and private funding.” It refers to the New York City mayor’s purchase of the majority of the City Council by allowing them to vote for a third term for themselves. 7 Clearly we aren’t short of examples of this obscure and twisted historical reference, though, however it’s introduced, its applicability will be questionable and its originality illusory.
It’s not hard to see that these myths and clichés have impregnated the national psyche to the extent that even their deviations have a kind of sad ludicrous charm. Consequently it’s difficult to refrain from comment on the remarkable errors that occur when people write about the Manhattan deal, or opt to introduce a loose figure of speech that refers to it. Our general grasp of history is evidently so tenuous that we can see some extraordinary blunders from people who should know better, as well as the general public. All many people know is the sketchy tale of the Dutch and their $24 worth of beads, so everything gets mixed up, and we can read some classic clumsy errors, shocking to see in print.
An example is the statement that New York City is: “…a place that hasn’t seen a deer since Squanto took the beads for Manhattan.” 8 In fact Squanto was a member of the Patuxet tribe in Massachusetts and proved an invaluable friend to the settlers at the Plymouth colony in New England, acting as interpreter and advisor, and securing alliances. Here another historical figure enters the frame: “Miles Standish bought Manhattan for some Dutch beads…” 9 Standish was also with the Plymouth colony, arriving on the Mayflower in 1620, six years before Minuit landed on Manhattan, and played a leading role in the colony’s administration and defense.
In the following case, the Dutch were confused with another group of settlers: “…ever since the early New England settlers in 1626 traded $24 worth of colorful beads and cloth to the unsuspecting Indians for Manhattan Island we have been a nation of swindlers.” 10 Finally we come to the conservative political commentator Rush Limbaugh, who confuses the Manhattan deal with another notable event in another part of the country that involved Indians: “…one of the great myths of Thanksgiving is that we swindled the Indians when we bought Manhattan Island from them, we swindled them.” 11
It’s probably because we have two Peters here that Minuit is confused with Stuyvesant, as in this reference to “…Peter Stuyvesant trading beads for Manhattan island.” 12 And again: “The Dutch West India Company set up a fur trading outpost in New York. It was there that Peter Stuyvesant traded $24.00 in beads to the Indians for the Island of Manhatten [sic].” 13 Stuyvesant is the historical Dutchman most people have heard of. All too often, sad to say, this is the kind of thing that passes for our interpretation of history.
The Spanish writer and philosopher George Santayana’s most famous aphorism is “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.” Of course no one remembers the past as far back as Peter Minuit’s Manhattan deal four centuries ago, and Minuit himself is only vaguely remembered for his role in this famous transaction. Nevertheless, we are the unwilling heirs to the trinkets and dollars myths, and they are firmly rooted. There are today many deluded people who confidently repeat what they mistakenly believe to be the fuzzy essence of a life lesson to be learned from them—and the rest of us must suffer their tired and shopworn error. It may not be exactly what Santayana was getting at, but the steady repetition of the fruits of ignorance is best avoided. In any case, please, no more beads.
1 “Mr. Knickerbocker’s Face Lifting,” Time Magazine, October 14, 1946,
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,934084,00.html?iid=chix-sphere (11/14/08).
2 Congressional Record, House, May 7, 1997.
3 Ted Port, “Five Rules for Foreign Real Estate Investors in Using U.S. Tax Law,” Real Estate Weekly, March 14, 2001.
4 Jim Donaldson, “Hartford Deal for Pats Makes No Sense,” Knight Ridder/Tribune News Service, November 23, 1998,
http://www.accessmylibrary.com/coms2/summary_0286-5618016_ITM (11/17/08).
5 https://www.mrlisterrealty.com/how-manhattan-was-sold-for-24-worth-of-beads-a-lesson-in-real-estate-value/
6 Warren Cohen, “Halting the Air Raid,” Washington Monthly, June 1, 1995,
http://www.articlearchives.com/law-legal-system/communications-law/1277989-1.html
7 http://www.bestoftrendy.com/2008/10/peter-stuyesant-exchanged-manhattan-for.html [sic] (11/14/08).
8 http://everything2.com/e2node/The%2520Hoof (10/20/08)
9 http://britishexpats.com/forum/showthread.php?t=142938 (10/28/08).
10 The Voice of Prophecy Speaks, < http://www.prophecyspeaks.com/sermons/sermon18.htm>
11 Rush Limbaugh, “Indians Scammed Us in Manhattan,” November 21, 2007,
http://www.rushlimbaugh.com/home/daily/site_112107/content/01125107.guest.html
12 http://www.miamisunpost.com/0802groundwork.htm (10/20/08)
13 http://www.fortboisebeadtrader.com (10/22/08)
