I N f .1* .» ■ * EI5LEK5- IMES- BY •E-S'^RpOKS Hate (fiollege af Agriculture At Qfnntcll Untuerstty 3«tara, ». f. JGihranj Cornell University Library PZ 7.B792I In Leisler's times: an historical stor r 3 1924 014 518 637 Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924014518637 IN LEISLER'S TIMES AN HISTORICAL STORY OF KNICKERBOCKER NEW YORK BY E. S. BROOKS Author of " In No-Han's Land," " Historic Boys," etc. TWXNTY-FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS BY William T. Smedley BOSTON LOTHBOP, LEE & SHEPABD CO. Copyright, 1886; by D. Lothrop & Company. PREFACE. Every town has its history, and, whether written or un- written, every town has its romance also. In many a musty old chronicle and many a dry-looking documentary record lie rich historic facts and seeds of romance. As each year, our country grows farther away from its be- ginnings, the thronging incidents of the present crowd out, especially from young minds, the privations and struggles of the past. Not a boy or girl who now walks the splendid streets of New York thinks of the days when the great city was in its infancy, or of the boys and girls of that olden time, to whom life was just as sweet and joy-filled as it is to the bright young people of to-day. It is to afford a scanty glimpse of those far-off days, and of the real boys and girls who then romped and chatted in the little Knickerbocker town that this book has been writ- ten. More than this, it is an attempt to reclaim from unmerited oblivion the name and character of one of America's earliest, stanchest and most unselfish patriots — Jacob Leisler, Lieu- tenant Governor of the Province of New York, the first rep- resentative of the American people and one of the remote causes of American independence. Histories and cyclopaedias alone give him scant mention, if any. His motives have been questioned, his character PREFACE. assailed, and his work belittled. But, beneath all the dry and wordy records of his times there breathes a spirit which even the quaint spelling and tediousness of the old docu- ments cannot obscure — the spirit of resistance to tyranny, of devotion to duty, of cheerful service for others, of a manly and courageous stand for honor, for justice and for right. If this chapter in the history of old New York shall inter- est young readers in the life-work of a noble man and in the home scenes of a great city in its " day of small things," the author will feel amply repaid for thus introducing the boys and girls of to-day to their young forefathers of two hundred years ago. E. S. B. CONTENTS* CHAPTER I. PAG« In the Dominie's Orchard 7 CHAPTER II. Up in the Apple Boughs 19 CHAPTER III. A ruffled Dignitary 29 CHAPTER IV. By the Fresh Water 36 CHAPTER V. On the Strand 50 CHAPTER VI. In the Madje Padje 63 CHAPTER VII. Eavesdropping 74 CHAPTER VIII. What became of the Goose-gun? ... 84 CHAPTER IX. The young Sakemacker 95 CHAPTER X. In the Governor's Chamber .... 108 CHAPTER XI. Barry's Bonanza 121 CHAPTER XII. Mary's Visitors 133 CONTENTS. CHAPTER XIII. PAGH Captain Mary 14 s CHAPTER XIV. The Boy Secretary 161 CHAPTER XV. The Bell op the Stadt-Huys 173 CHAPTER XVI. At the Wedding Place 184 CHAPTER XVII. In Katonah's Wigwam 198 CHAPTER XVIII. The First Continental Congress . . . 213 CHAPTER XIX. King Stork 226 CHAPTER XX. 'Twixt Hawk and Buzzard .... 240 CHAPTER XXI. Barry stirs Things up 253 CHAPTER XXII. Mary meets the King's Representative . 265 CHAPTER XXIII. Attainted 279 CHAPTER XXIV. HOW THE VOW WAS KEPT , , . 289 ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGB The Post-rider's News . ... Front. In the Dominie's Orchard 11 Mayor Van Cortlandt has a Fall .... 23 At the goode vrow Webber's 41 " Now what hath he done, I ask," interrupted Heer Leisler 53 Joost Stoll 61 Perry, the Post-rider 77 At the Bouwerie — "A regular Boy's Plan " . 87 The Trophy of the gray Wolf's Head . . . 101 On the Strand near the Stadt Huys . . . in " What would you, my Friends ? " asked the Heer Leisler 137 Under the Apple Trees in the Dominie's Bouwerie 145 Over the Ferry to Breuckelen Heights . . . 155 Belle Marie meets the Heer Jacob Milborne . . 163 Barry is called to Account 179 The Heer Leisler faces the Mob .... 187 At the Winter Wigwam of Katonah . . . 205 " So Barry rode to Town " 215 She thought over the Matter calmly and sorrowfully 231 The Outlook from the Fort 247 Barry escapes 257 The Heer Governor, Henry Stoughter, is waylaid . 273 A fair May Morning 291 " Brothers both " 297 IN LEISLER'S TIMES. CHAPTER I. IN THE DOMINIE'S ORCHARD. WITH puff and snort, high in air like a rail- road on stilts, the dummy-drawn cars of the New York Elevated Railroad steam through the city streets. From Harlem Bridge to the historic Battery they dash on — past brownstone front and towering apartment-house, past open park and high hotel, past crowded tenement and whirring factory and dingy dwellings of the swarming poor, now un- der the great bridge, and now in sight of the busy river and the sister city upon the further bank, un- til at last they whizz past blocks of warehouses and, spanning the open square and the trim grass plots of Battery Park, stop at the ferry slips close to the water's edge. 8 IN leisler's times. Well — just about where now the "L" road steaming away from the busy Fulton Street Station gives us, looking out of the broad car windows, a peep through long rows of high-walled buildings to the brown front of old St. Paul's and the rush and crush of Broadway — two healthy and happy-faced children walked in the bright sunshine of an April morning two hundred years ago, beneath the spread- ing branches of the big apple-trees in what was then known as the Dominie's Orchard, beyond the city walls. A brisk, southeasterly breeze, strong with the sea- smell it had brought with it across the white-capped bay, played through the faintly-greening apple- boughs. An adventurous robin, bound to have a long and busy summer, poured out a flood of song from a swaying branch, while, strolling contentedly beneath the trees, three comfortable-looking cows nibbled the fresh spring grass, and blinked their big brown eyes in serene appreciation of the fact that their lines had fallen unto them in so pleasant a place as the Dominie's Orchard in the bright April weather of the year of grace, 1689. IN THE DOMINIE'S ORCHARD. 9 And, as the cows thought, so too thought the children, bright young people in their early teens, as in the quaint boy and girl costumes of the old Dutch days they sauntered on beneath the apple boughs. Indeed the young girl seemed in a mer- rier mood than usual and her clear, ringing laugh was so full of fun that it caused even Mr. Robin Redbreast to break off his song and look down in surprise upon his seeming rival. " No, no, Ab'm," golden-haired Mary Leisler cried in high glee, " you have not caught it yet. You will never learn the right of it, will you ? Now mark me: rullities* — rutler-chers, 'tis, and not reau-la-chez, as you would say it." " A plague upon my French tongue, then," said her companion with an impetuous boyish gesture. " But, sure, belle Marie, how may you expect me to give the true Dutch turn to all your dreadful words ? " " Dreadful, say you, Ab'm ? " exclaimed the girl. " Ay, dreadful, said I, Marie," the boy replied. * Rolte t je or rullities : a favorite old Knickerbocker tidbit, composed of pressed beef and tripe, soused in spiced vinegar and cut into small and appetizing slices. IO IN leisler's times. " So dreadful that I must fain be ever murdering them as you do see. Now this — what call you it ? — reau — " " Rul — rul," prompted Mary, slowly, " rul-ler- chers — " " That you are trying to teach me," he went on, scarce heeding her correction ; " I never may com- pass that." " Nay," broke in the laughing girl, but you can compass the rullities themselves full easily, and that know I. Come now, Ab'm, how large a share did you compass this morning ? " "Why — not so vast a lot, Marie," he replied, " but then — you know — your mother doth make them marvellously good-tasting." " And you have a marvellously good stomach for them too,"said the girl. " But then," she continued, " that is nothing strange. You have the same for all our home dishes. Why, Ab'm, you are more Dutch- man than Frenchman anyhow." "And why not, belle Marie,'' answered the lad with true French courtesy. " When the poor Hugue- nots were driven from home, who was it welcomed IN THE DOMINIE'S ORCHARD. 13 and cared for them but the good Dutchmen of Hol- land and the better ones of New Amsterdam — or New York as we call it since the English took the town ? " " Ay, but if the story goeth rightly, Ab'm," said young Mistress Mary, " we of New York did scarce treat you generously." "'Twas but your law, Marie," young Abram Gouverneur responded. "The Heer Van Cort- landt could not change the law for our sakes even though we were gentle of blood and birth. If your laws say that paupers who may not have withal to pay their passage-fees, or port-charges, must be sold for the city's benefit, why, sold they must be, I suppose ; and but for your good father — " " O, yes, tell me about it, do, Ab'm," said the girl, full of interest ; " tell me about it pray, for my father never will." " ' Tis but like him to keep his own good deeds dark," said the lad gratefully. " But thus it was : Five years back when the great king Louis drove my father and the rest of the Huguenots from France, we followed the throng to Holland. But 14 in leisler's times. we were sore beset upon the way, robbed and mal- treated, and then my father died of the fever. My mother and I strove on until we reached Amsterdam, but when we were come there, lo, her father, Heer Patem, the captain, with whom we looked to find a haven, was dead also. Then we turned our eyes across the seas hoping to find a quiet home in a new land, but, ere we might get away, a rascal law- man cheated my mother of what little she had left, and when the ship sailed from Holland, we had not a guilder to our names. So we were fain to come here as refugees, and when we were landed at the Water Gate, the Heer Van Cortlandt said that being pau- per-refugees we must even be sold as vagrant per- sons to pay the ship's charges and the port-dues." " Dreadful ! " exclaimed sympathetic young Mis- tress Mary. " My mother pleaded hard," continued Abram. " She showed the papers of her goodman, my father, and those of her father, Heer Patem, the captain. She told how we were of gentle birth and how my father's forefathers had fought for the religion at La Rochelle and Ivry. But it availed us nothing IN THE DOMINIE'S ORCHARD. 15 until your father pushed his way through the prees, and said he would be foul craven and falser Chris- tain did he stand by and see the daughter and the widow of a brave Huguenot soldier sold like to a black Barbary negro-man. And then did he redeem us by himself paying the ship-master and the haven- master their charges, and so gave us our liberty. And, do you know, belle Marie, I really think I do remember that he did fillip his fingers in the Wor- shipful Heer Van Cortlandt's face when it was all over, and cry him shame for such a soulless deed." " I'll warrant me he did," said Mary Ixisler sol- emnly. " For, truth to say, my father feareth no man from Garry Teunisson,the town constable,to the King's High Majesty. And do you know," she con- tinued, lowering her voice to a still more solemn whisper, " I do myself esteem the Heer Van Cort- landt as a most mispleasing man, even though he be my high and mighty cousin and the Mayor of the town. Why, Ab'm, he bade me be gone from the green behind the Stadt Huys * one day, and said that * The Stadt Huys, or State House, was New York's first City Hall. 1 6 in leisler's times, maids who knew not how to keep at home should be made to learn the how of it ! Ugh— hateful old thing. As if Getty* Van Cortlandt was not quite as bad as I — yes, and worse ! " with which rather illogical conclusion Mistress Mary's face flushed with indignation as she recalled the Heer Van Cortlandt's words of censure. " And I can cry you ' yes ' and ' amen ' to that, Marie," young Abram chimed in. " For the Heer Van Cortlandt doth not love me overmuch, as I do know. And, truth to say, I have grown to fear him too. For — " and here Abram looked around somewhat cautiously — "I much suspect that he doth deem me to have had some hand in the slip- ping off his periwig in the church last summer. You mind it, do you not, Marie ? " Did she not, though ! As if any little lady in her mischief-loving teens could ever forget such good cause for laughter. " Why, Ab'm," she said, " if it had not been that my mother had laid her hand right heavily upon my mouth, I should have laughed aloud in the * Getty — Gertrude. IN THE DOMINIE'S ORCHARD. I J church." And you fun-loving boys and girls can scarcely appreciate the awfulness of such a crime two hundred years ago. " O, did you have a hand in it, though ? " she asked, now full of curiosity. The graceless young refugee laughed a sly little laugh. " 'Twere better not to drive me too closely, belle Marie," he said, "for, true, I dare not say. 'Twas thought, you know, that some imprisoned pitch did ooze from out the pine back-board with the undue heat, and that the Heer Van Cortlandt's periwig was caught by that, and — well, 'twere best for all to think so yet. Leastways, 'twere best for Jacob, Jr., and for me, that all did think so." " Ah, ha," said the girl with freshly roused sus- picions, " then did my torment of a brother have part in it, too ? But, sure, why did I not think of that ? I'll warrant me there's no mischief afloat that he hath not — ah — why, hark 1 What may that be, Ab'm?" And as upon the children's ears there came through the mass of apple boughs a sudden cry for help, they stopped short and peered before them in some surprise and doubt. Again the cry came. 18 IN leisler's times. The robin broke off his flood of song and flew away dismayed. The cows stopped in their grazing, sniffed the air suspiciously, gave a low moo-oo of curiosity, sniffed the air once more and then turned tail and galloped clumsily townward. But Abram started in the direction from which came the cry for help followed hard by Mary. " What can it be ? " he said. CHAPTER II. UP IN THE APPLE BOUGHS. AS the children hurried on, again came the cry for help, and now Mary, clinging to Abram's arm, strove to hold him back. "No, no, Ab'm," she said, "do not go. It may perchance be trouble or even worse danger." " The more cause then for me to be on hand," said the lad. " If there be danger afoot it is for me to help and not to run away. Keep you close to me, Marie, and 'twill perhaps be safer than if I left you here or sent you back alone." And clasp- ing her hand fast, the boy caught up a broken apple bough from the ground and hastened in the direction from which came the redoubled shouts. "Ah, good youth, brave youth," sounded a pleading voice from somewhere amid the tree-tops, "hasten quickly, I pray, and free me from this 19 20 in leisler's times. ravening beast, who like Satan goeth up and down seeking whom he may devour. See! see, good youth, kind youth, here am I imprisoned in this scarce comfortable tree-crotch ! " Still unable to see anything for the mass of branches, even though yet leafless, the children looked up and around, when suddenly Mary's mingling exclamation of surprise and amusement told that she had lighted upon the owner of the mysterious voice. " Look, look there, Ab'm ! " she cried. " See, in the Dahrklaashaa to the right ! ' Tis the stranger gentleman ; 'tis the English dominie from the fort. And O, look, look, down below him ! Why, Ab'm, he's treed by a bear ! " And Mary was right ; for there, almost from the tip-top of the big Dahrklaashaa apple-tree, a trou- bled and appealing face, with spectacles astride of nose and a ministerially clothed neck, looked down upon the two young people, while not a half- dozen branches below him, and looking upward at his clerical companion, squatted the cause of the frantic cry for help — a big brown bear, blinking UP IN THE APPLE BOUGHS. 21 his vicious little eyes and wagging his head from side to side in the restless manner peculiar to bears, as if in high enjoyment of his gigantic joke in thus so successfully treeing the English parson in the Dominie's orchard. Nimble young Mary, trained in woodland ways, climbed a neighboring tree and, perched upon a swaying bough, settled herself to see the fun, while Abram, glancing up through the branches, called out reassuringly to the terrified parson : " Hold you fast, sir ; hold you fast and fear not. These sort of bears be harmless unless you do anger them or seek to steal their cubs. He thinks perchance you have something sweet or toothsome about you which he may nose out — " "Nay, good youth," returned the beleaguered parson, " I have naught toothsome about me save my discourse on Sanctification." Abram cast aside his cap and blouse and say- ing, " Keep you fast to that limb, sir, I will be with him anon," he " shinned " up the tree and, still grasping his broken bough, worked his way out upon a neighboring branch, so as to face the 22 IN LEISLER'S TIMES. big brown fellow who blinked away in evident per- plexity as to the intentions of this new-comer. " You disrespectful beast," said young Abram, regarding the bear severely. "Where be your manners that you thus discommode our stranger guest — and a dominie at that? You should be drawn and quartered for so foul discourtesy had I but gun and knife along." The bear looked across at the young lecturer and, with a surly growl, backed slowly out towards the end of the limb. Abram kept pace with him and, clinging with one hand to the limb above, he lifted his stick with the other and fetched Mr. Bruin a stinging thwack across his clumsy paws. "Get you down, get you down, sir," he cried, punctuating his sentences of reproof with rousing thwacks. "You are no better — thwack — than a misbelieving pagan — thwack — or a churchless pirate — thwack — who hath no respect for worthy dominies or their precepts — thwack — thwack I Get you down, I say — thwack — and learn to treat your betters — thwack — thwack — with more courtesy — thwack — thwack — thwack / " UP IN THE APPLE BOUGHS. 23 The bear growled in protest at his punishment, pulling up first one belabored paw and then the other to dodge the storm of blows. He strove to get at the nimble lad, but wise young Abram had calculated his chances and kept just beyond the reach of the brown bear's clumsy paws and his long and threatening claws. " How is it with you, good youth ? " came the quavering query from the parson in the tree-top. " Is the ravening beast yet quelled, or doth he still incontinently rage and resist ? " "Faith, reverend sir," replied the boy; "he seemeth not to like his chastisement, but danceth up and down like to a lad with thistles in his hose. He hath, I think, learned the error of his ways by this and would gladly climb aloft and beg your reverend pardon — if so be you wish to have him do so." " I give it him — I give it him. Let him not come aloft, I pray," exclaimed the uneasy parson. And Abram, smothering a laugh, rained now such a new and vigorous shower of blows upon poor Bruin's paws that the badgered beast could stand 24 in leisler's times. it no longer, but with a final growl dropped heavily to the ground and shambled surlily away, much to the surprise and discomfort of two stately gentle- men who were walking in earnest conversation under the spreading apple boughs in the Dom- inie's Orchard. Indeed, so disconcerted were both these stately gentlemen by the unexpected apparition of a big brown bear making towards them, that one of them backed hastily against a sturdy tree-trunk and crying "Avaunt, Satanas!" struck at the beast with his stout cane as a defence, while the other, equally surprised, started to get out of the bear's path so hastily that he took no heed as to his steps and, catching his foot in an uncovered apple-root, fell heavily to the ground where he lay bawling lustily for help, convinced that the bear had pounced upon him. The bear, poor fellow, feeling that he had gotten into most unfriendly society where his room was plainly more desirable than his company, shambled rapidly out of sight, and Abram and Mary, descending from their respective perches in the Dahrklaashaas, saw to their dismay that the stately gentleman who UP IN THE APPLE BOUGHS. 25 now lay sprawling beneath the apple-trees was none other than the one whom they both held in so much awe — the Worshipful Heer Van Cort- landt, Mayor of His Majesty's loyal city of New York and member of the Governor's Council. CHAPTER III. A RUFFLED DIGNITARY. IT was almost too much for young Abram Gou- verneur's ready sense of the ludicrous to see the Worshipful Member of the Governor's Council frantically clawing the ground to escape the clutches of the bear, and shouting lustily for help mean- while. Sweet Mistress Mary's mischievous laugh came rippling out right heartily when she saw that the bear was making off as fast as his clumsy legs could carry him, and that the Worshipful Member of the Governor's Council was really more scared than hurt. It is but a step, you know, from the sublime to the ridiculous even when bears are after you. But a man who is over-solicitous as to his own dignity can never appreciate a joke which in any degree ruffles that same dignity, and the Heer 26 A RUFFLED DIGNITARY. 27 Van Cortlandt, instead of looking upon the comi- cal side of the affair, rose from the ground an- gered at the bear, angered at himself, and espe- cially angered at the two young people who had been witnesses of his most undignified position. But, when he heard the young girl's merry laugh and saw that the bear had really fled from the field, his anger grew still more hot. His face was flushed with rage, and as he saw Abram running to his as- sistance he broke out passionately : " So ; it is this graceless young varlet, is it, that turneth brute bears loose into Christian boundaries to take his betters unawares ? This is not the first time you have gone such a gait, young sir " — and he flourished the cane which Abram had picked from the ground and handed him, full in the lad's puzzled face — " not the first time, young sir ; but, good faith, I shall see to it that it be the last. Trust me, but I will see if such scapegrace tricks as these shall go unpunished. If your patron and my — pho! — most worthy cousin, Jacob Leisler, cannot teach you manners, then will I try what the prison stocks and the — " 28 IN leisler's times. Justice-loving young Mary could no longer stand this most unwarranted attack upon her playmate. "O no," she broke in impetuously, laying her hand upon the worshipful and wrathful counsellor's arm, "good cousin— Van Cortlandt — " she spoke the words rather hesitatingly, " you are altogether wrong. Ab'm did not — " But the angry man would have none of her. " And you too," he exclaimed, rudely throwing off her hand ; " you too, a saucy young baggage, to laugh in my face, forsooth, and tell me I am wrong! Where be your manners, child ? Is the respectful- ness of this good city all gone astray, that the very children browbeat their elders and fling words at their betters ? Were it but old Governor Stuyve- sant's day you should both know what it meant to contradict and laugh at a schepen of the city ! " By this time the imprisoned parson in the tree- top had descended from his perch in the Dahr- klaashaa, while the Dutch dominie had recovered his wits and left the secure backing of his tree- trunk. As they approached the little group they caught each other's hands. A RUFFLED DIGNITARY. 29 " Ach, so ! Tis good Dominie Woolley," cried Dominie Selyns, the Dutchman ; and, " why, bless me ! 'tis my worthy brother Selyns," cried Parson Woolley, the Englishman. " And did you too face the bear, good brother? " asked Dominie Selyns. " Not I indeed, my brother,"said Parson Woolley. " Good faith, he would have left but little face on me, I fear, had it not been for this worthy youth here, who clomb the tree and drove the monster off. But what is awry here ? The Worshipful Mr. Van Cortlandt seemeth angered. What hath the lad done?" " O, sir," cried Mary appealingly, as the parson and the dominie approached, "you can tell the Heer Van Cortlandt how Ab'm had no hand in turning the bear into the orchard, can you not ? " " Why, that can I, fair mistress," the fussy little parson replied. And then buttonholing the still ruffled Member of the Governor's Council, he dropped into a long story of how he was walking out into the Dominie's Orchard to smell the earlv spring and find a theme for his next Sabbath Day's 30 IN leisler's times. discourse at the Fort, and how he encountered the unmannerly brute of a bear coming towards him under the apple-trees. How that, not knowing the nature of the beast, he was sore affrighted, and has- tily clomb the apple-tree for safety, and how, good sooth, he heard something scratching below him and, lo! there was Master Bruin scrambling up after him. How, thinking he was destined to be less fortunate than the Prophet Daniel in the den of lions he trembled in terror at his possible fate ; and how when he could neither dislodge the brute, nor drive him away, he had clambered into the very topmost branches of the tree and called out lus- tily for help. " Whereupon," said the good parson, " this worthy youth hearing me hasted instanter to my aid, and hammered upon the brute beast's paws right valiantly until he loosened his hold and tum- bled him down to the ground, where, unfortunately, he seemeth to have encountered you, Worshipful sir, and given you a fright and a fall as well. I marvel much that your goodly town suffereth such ravening beasts to be at large so nigh the city gates. But then," he continued, linking an arm into that A RUFFLED DIGNITARY. 31 of each of his companions, " what better can we expect of pagan brutes when such wild beasts of doctrine as I do find here among you — Labadists and Quakers and all such — prowl about and de- vour the good seed which — " But long before the English parson had dropped into fierce theological debate with the equally ob- stinate Dutch dominie, the children had left them far behind, glad to escape from the Worshipful Counsellor's wrath, and hurrying back towards the city, through the clover pastures and across the Maiden's Lane, were soon within range of the palisadoed wall of the little city, which guarded it against attack from the north and stretched across the island from about where Wall Street now run- ning eastward from the river, brings up against the steepled front and crumbling gravestones of old Trinity. As they ran down the steep hill that sloped to the shore just above the Water Gate, they heard and soon spied a noisy crowd gathered around the porch of the vrouw Annekin Litschoe's tavern just within the Water Gate. True to the nature of children, from the year one until now, Abram and Mary 32 IN leisler's times. pushed their way into the press to learn what all the talk was about. " What can be astir, Ab'm ? " asked Mary, fully as inquisitive as he. "Something, sure," replied the lad, "but just what it may be I cannot make out." Then catch- ing sight of a youthful acquaintance and a kindred spirit wedged in the throng ahead of him, Abram clutched him with the grip of boyish determination and called out : " Hoi ; say ; Barry, Barry Van Schaick ! What's astir ? " But young Barent Van Schaick was a late arrival too, and his answer was confused and unsatisfac- tory. " I don't know, Ab'm," he said, throwing a back- ward glance at his questioner. " I hear them talk- ing about Frenchmen and Papists and Injuns and Yankees and something about the King's Majesty being fled and — what may that be ? why — Gover- nor Andros is hanged in Boston town ! " " O, never, surely ! " exclaimed Abram, all ex- citement and incredulity at this last piece of news. " Who sayeth that ? " A RUFFLED DIGNITARY. 33 " Who sayeth it ? " echoed Barry, craning his sup- ple neck and jumping up to look across the throng of wagging heads, " why, who should say it but him who should know it ? Cannot you see — 'tis John Perry, the post-rider, just in from Boston town ! " Sure enough; there he was — John Perry the post-rider. Not all the king's horses nor all the king's men could keep the young folks back now. For a wonderful man to all the boys and girls of old New York two hundred years ago was this same John Perry, the post-rider. A wonderful man, greater and more important almost than the King's Deputy himself — the bewigged and belaced Lieu- tenant Governor, Mr. Nicholson, who lived in the big house by the Fort. For John Perry, the post- rider, was of hale and hearty English build, fleet rider and firm friend to all the children on his long route. Every other Wednesday he came spurring through the city gate bearing letters and despatches from Hartford and the Boston colony and far-off Pemaquid, and happy the boy who could hold the post-rider's panting horse as, his despatches deliv- ered at the Stadt Huys, he dismounted and sat 34 in leisler's times. awhile in buff jerkin and slouch hat upon the stoop of the vrouw Litschoe's tavern, just within the Water Gate, full of the latest gossip and the cheer- iest jokes. And, next to the post-rider, the boy who could hold the post-rider's fretting horse, was the hero of the hour and the envy of his fellows. Over the heads of their elders there came to the children scraps of the post-rider's talk. " Not possible, Ryck Crueger ? " they heard him exclaim, a trifle testily. " Why, who should know better than I ? I tell you, man, here be lively times a-coming for your sleepy Dutchdom of Man- ahadoes. For, hark you, as surely as I sit here, the Worshipful Governor Andros is in Boston gaol ; King James is run away to the French frog-eaters ; the Munseers are on the sea steering straight for Sandy Hook and your shaky little fort yonder, and the Prince of Orange is King in London ! " Here was news enough for one day surely ; and as, soon after, they wriggled out of the crowd, not caring to listen to the long-winded discussion of the political situation and the varying opinions as to which was the rightful monarch — James the old A RUFFLED DIGNITARY. 35 King or the young Stadtholder, William, the Prince of Orange — Barry Van Schaick cried out in his usual happy-go-lucky way : " O, who careth who may be the king ? It's puncheons and tar barrels any way they put it ; so huzzoy for a rouse ! For, see you not, Ab'm, whether John Perry speaks the truth or no, we'll have the fire alight down by the old horse- mill as soon as the dark cometh ? Either way, I tell you. For, if so be that King James be yet king, it's puncheons and tar barrels for very joy at his victory over the pestilent rebels! But if the Prince of Orange be king indeed, as John Perry doth say, why, then, Ab'm, 'tis victory for the other side ! And so it's tar barrels and puncheons and a royal rouse either way." And the young philosopher swung his cap and cut a caper in anticipation of his jolly bonfire in honor of the king — which king in no wise mattered. So, you see, the spirit that in our own time sets the streets of New York ablaze on Election nights, whichever party wins, is as old as the city itself. CHAPTER IV. BY THE FRESH WATER. THE bright April day had worn itself well on to afternoon when Abram pushed his head in through the open half-door of the shining Leis- ler kitchen. Only his head, please notice, for un- der no pretence dared he protrude his soiled feet upon that dreadfully clean and freshly sanded kitchen floor. " Mother Leisler," he said, " Barry and I are go- ing up to goode vrouw Weber's with a roll of moth- er's ' hoof kaas.' May not Marie go with us too ? " "Not so, lad," replied Mary's busy mother; " the maid hath been over-loopen * the town with you far too much already, and she must even bide at home and tax herself with tasks she hath neg- * " Over-loopen " — clambering or leaping over — Dutch for the Yan- kee " galivanting." 36 BY THE FRESH WATER. 37 Iected. There's not a maid on the Strand that is such a wander-foot as she. So go you alone, Ab'm, you and Barry there, and see you mind your man- ners with your elders. And, ach, so I since you are holden for the Fresh Water, why, take ye my greet- ing too, and this pypkin of kool-slaa, like handy lads, to the goode vrouw Weber for me." Mary's sorely disappointed face troubled Abram, but there was no appeal from the mother's decision in those days, and so the boys trudged off towards the Fresh Water and the goode vrouw Weber's. Now the goode vrouw Weber was quite a character in that quaint old town of two hundred years ago. She was a relic of the times when their High Mightinesses the States General of Holland ruled the province — the days of the Heer Director Kieft and stout old Governor Stuyvesant, and she was full of stories of those stirring times when the city lay all within the boundary of the palisadoed wall, when the Quakers were whipped at the cart's tail through the Winckel Street and the Heeren- graaft, and when the Indian savages, full twenty- hundred strong, ran their canoes ashore at Schrey- 38 IN leisler's times. er's Hook, where Castle Garden now stands, and came prowling through the city streets that dread- ful September night in the year '56, when they laid Staten Isjand all a-waste and murdered every man, woman and child from Hoboken to Pavonia. And as in her clean " fore room " in her low-roofed cottage by the Kolch or Fresh Water, the goode vrouw would tell her marvellous tales and would show, above the ample fireplace, the great " goose gun " that had belonged to Wolfert Weber, her goodman long since dead, and would tell how he had shouldered it when he sailed away with the stout old Governor Stuy- vesant against the audacious Swedes at Fort Cas- imir on the Delaware, and how he had turned out with the burger