University of Virginia Library

SECTION I.

T. May.

The intentions of a writer, as to the peculiar fashion
which at setting out, and in the incipient stages of his
labour, he may have adopted to develope his ideas and
bring forward the various incidents of his work, are
more than once frustrated, if not entirely defeated, as he
progresses therein—like a person raising an edifice for
his own residence, and who, when he lays the foundation
of the building, stoutly determines on going to no more
than a certain moderate expenditure, which he then calculates
as equal to the uttermost parts of his undertaking,
and therefore he resolves to remain unvarying
by the original plan laid and approved on for the structure;
yet in spite of such determination, long ere the
dwelling is under roof, unconsciously, he has proceeded
to place innumerable additional comforts to his first design,
whose necessity hath become apparent as the fabric
grew under his sight and care, so that long before
the whole is completed, he finds it difficult to recognize
a feature of his first design, and is surprised that unawares
he should have been so widely led astray from the mark

which he had placed as his boundary. Even with a
feeling akin to this, is this one of the last books of this erratic
narrative commenced—for when I look back to the
matter already concluded, there is to be found, it must be
confessed, not much that follows the early conception; and
a wonder arises, how the limits, fixed as impassable on
the rude threshold of the plot, at its dawn have been so
strangely, and perhaps unadvisedly, overstepped. Yet so
it is; at commencing, a plain straight forward route had
been penciled, from which it appeared as if there could
be no departure; but the following was clear and without
an obstacle; still, numberless times has this high
road been wandered from, seemingly almost without the
slightest reason; matters that one scarcely thought of
treating on, have crowded themselves on the canvass;
characters whom it was proper to have kept in the back
ground, but for occasional use, have taken up the principal
portion of the picture; and in many places more
hath been done, and in others, much less than could
have been wished; and so it is, that now I am fully
aware that there is enough to do in accomplishing the
most critical point of my task, I mean the putting a last
finish—the smoothing of rough ends, and making whole
all broken shreds and the like, caused by such rash procedure
in the work, which may now be resembled not
unaptly, to some gallant bark with rent canvass and torn
tackling dangling in the wind, after the wild tempest
hath swept over her.

“And who is to blame except yourself, for the trouble
you may anticipate—for might not even more difficulties
than there are in reality, have been expected, and with
good cause, from the manner which without rhyme,
reason, or any advice whatsoever, you have headstrong
pursued in the developement of the facts of this strange
history?” methinks some sour tongued and scowling reader,
who intends to play the critic adverse and morose,
exclaims, while he peevishly turns over the leaves, having
looked at them with a stern resolve to be displeased
and find fault, and now eagerly snaps at an opportunity,
hat his ire may have vent, “was it not,” quoths he in

continuance, “to be supposed that such would be the
event, when whole pages have been dragged out with
drawling insipidities, which, with perverse obstinacy,
the inditer misconceives, misled with affectation and conceit,
thinking them excellent witticisms—he therefore
presumes they are advantageous to the world, and beget
a favourable opinion of the profoundness of his reflections,
and his views of mankind—and under this gross
mistake, the whole force of his story, if he has any, has
been destroyed by abrupt departures from its interest, to
thrust on the impatient ear of the peruser, spiteful complaints
against the fashion of existing manners; doubtless
all this may appear to him wondrous wise as well as
censorious, but he should remember that it has been remarked,
with some truth, that many writers have supposed
themselves very deep, when they were most superficial;
and forsooth, what entitles him to decry every
body and every thing, that comes within the range of his
pen? does this self constituted guardian of morals, believe
himself more pure than his fellows, or does he
suppose he renders himself the more conspicuous and
worthy of public attention by such unmeasured attacks?
If so, he is widely in error—for take my word for it, and
it is seldom I mistake, that he is presumptuous, in undertaking
to weary the reader with his sarcastic remarks on
human frailty—for who takes up a book but for an hour's
amusement, to wile away the ennui of the day, that
hangs heavy on his hands? and there is not one of a
thousand, who may look into these pages, if they have
the fortune to have so many readers, who care one atom
what is of evil or good effect in society; for of a surety,
each one in these hard times, has sufficient to attend to
his own concerns, without the trouble of such matters;
for there are few proverbs truer than the one which
teaches, that which is the business of all, is no one's affair;
and who is such a fool as to think of any one except
himself, now-a-days? Philanthropy is a good standing
subject for conversation, but its practice is entirely
out of the question—for it is the modern maxim of wisdom,
that each one use his fellow for his own interest,
and get all he can from him, and then trample the victim,
or rather idol, who hath submitted to the purposes
of cunning that were worked on him, in the dust without
remorse: truly our lovers of mankind are men of sense;
there is nothing which comes in their way, but they derive
benefit from—

But even for the sake of argument, master author, admitting
your motives are good, what substantial influence
do you believe your railing will tend to have on the
conduct of the world? you are very vain an you suppose
it will better it one jot. Your experiment is not new—
it has been tried by better men heretofore, and what
avails it—not the tythe of a hair; and I repeat to you,
it is your part to learn wisdom, you must submit as others
have done, to circumstances, which are not in the power
of any mortal to control, or in the least to restrict—
things will be even as they are—not a giant's hand were
it to sweep and strew death like the poisonous blast of an
eastern samul, above the congregated herds of sharpers,
rogues, and villains that infest, or rather flourish in society,
could succeed in driving vice from the human
mind: for ere its task were more than begun, it would
tire and give over in despair at the vain attempt; for
like the ranks of some numerous army, as one squadron
bites the dust from adverse ball and steel, new files succeed,
closing each vacant space as though such had never
been—even so, to every knave who repents or gives
up business, there are a dozen successors ready to take
the ground he leaves, and improve on his knaveries. So
peace, sapient sir, for you are biting like a madman doth
his chain, your teeth meet iron—therefore desist in time,
and give us the fate of Leisler at once, without such preludes—a
continuance of which there is in your manner an
augury.”

As a very oracle and with truth, I must admit, sagacious
disciple of Longinus, hast thou spoken; and as I
give ear to your discourse, greatly am I inclined to adopt
your last advice. Yet there clings to me a few words
which I beg your patience on, as perforce they conquer
every resolution that I form to restrain them, and will
forth; and whether they refute your remarks, you must
judge.

“Nay, hold for mercy's sake, master author, I yawn already
at the thought of the vituperation that is gathering
around your pen and standish. I will allow all you are
going to say as truth—it is the best way to get rid of
your incorrigible sophisms—for you have an answer at all
times; yet I will say assuredly your pictures are many
times the very copies of nature. But have pity on yourself
if not on me; remember the famous Annibal Caracci
beheld his noblest works despised, neglected, and
discountenanced, for no other cause than that they were
faithful portraitures of creation, while his pupils Guido
and Carravagio succeeded, by following the advice given in
their master's despondency, of outraging all they attempted
to represent, to please the taste and whims of their patrons.
And let me inquire what painter would be so mad,
so envious, of losing every customer and admirer, as to
draw the pimples on the nose of a debauchee, or the
freckles on the cheeks of some would-be beauty, or deliver
himself up to the eternal enmity, and tea-table scandal
of some antiquated dame, whose finer feelings he has
wounded, by placing every line of age, even to the bristles
on the chin upon his canvass; and what would become
of the fairest specimens of his skill, the lines on which he
labored in expectation of fame for whole hours, for days,
while light could guide his pencil—the garret dust and decay
would be their lot, while the unfortunate artist would
of course, meet contempt and starvation; so be warned.”

Nay, wise sir, you know me not, if you suppose the course
I might care to undertake, was one from which I am easily
frightened, or that a moment's concern would be felt
by me, from what might be said by the self appointed, and
undisputed judges of literature, the magnates of the day,

who suspect in their own belief, that when they have indited
an unread paragraph, increasing the native dullness
of some leaden journal, or after they have contributed
to render the pages of some abortive review yet more
stupid, by the barren efforts of their paltry brains, that they
have done that which has called towards themselves, the
sole attention of the world; and are installed as the arbiters
of public opinion, and have thereby a licence to run
down their betters, as well as to be the leaders in societies
of arts or sciences, in which they are ignorant. In
truth it is amusing to behold the freaks of such contemptible
things, who infest the walks of literature; with what
brazen assurance they push themselves forward, unmindful
of their senseless and empty heads. Here are a host of
them, directors of a national or city institution, for the encouragement
or exhibition of the works of the followers of
Raphael and Vandyke, not one of whom ever held a brush or
pencil in their hands, nor are equal scarcely to judge the difference
between a master-piece of Rubens' and a publican's
sign; there are others of the same class, if not the
self same personages, (for a pretension to universal knowledge
is the fashion) lecturing, and delivering discourses
on every species of learning, and philosophy, to simpering
and delighted things who term themselves the patterns
of fashion—the aristocracy of the day; who listen with
the same advantage and instruction to the unnatural
squallings of a foreign charlatan, in a tongue that not one
out of a hundred of them understands; although it would be
ungenteel to acknowledge their ignorance, and they therefore
pretend delight,—as well as to the motley undigested,
unformed nonsense, the skimmings of insignificance, that
hovers on the lips of some conceited ape called a professor—of
what truly except of vanity, it is hard to determine,
unless a pair of spectacles or some such foppery, to
assist youthful eyes, entitles one to the station, in spite of
the manners of a coxcomb and the stupidity of an ass.
And it is these, and such as these, who upheld by self sufficiency,
and an unquenchable thirst for notoriety, render
ludicrous and contemptible, the associations whose ostensible
object should be that of improvement, but which are
made subservient to the private ends of needy adventurers,
or to show off the sterile intellect and conceit of
some undaunted pretender, envious of having his name in
print; so it matters not what branch of knowledge, however
abstruse or foreign from his own calling, in which he
mingles;—even the meetings of horticulturists are crowded
with psuedo physicians, flippant lawyers, paltry merchants,
and presuming conductors of heavy journals, a
varied group among whom it is a chance if there is one
who knows the difference between a spade or a rake, an
artichoke or a cabbage; and whose only object in usurping
characters, the qualifications for which they are by no
means acquainted with, is a greedy avarice of public
attention, which is apparently the more powerful in the
human mind, the more narrow and confined the intellect;
for it is remarkable, folly believes itself the more admired
and akin to wisdom, the more it is exposed. Yet
though this be known and acknowledged, the evil has a
certain influence, and so preposterous is the mania, that
to secure the success of some new invention, the mechanic
or manufacturer deems it prudent to propitiate the
recommendation of these leaders of opinion: for the crowd,
brow-beaten by their haughty airs of superiority, have
silently endured their arbitrary dictation; while it is
common to rely on, and boast of the certificate of its
usefulness and perfection, from some noisy divine,
or shallow votary of Galen, ere the universal adoption
of a new discovery, whether it be for the sawing of logs,
the making of nails or pins, or the curing of a smoky
chimney; nevertheless, this absurdity might not call for
reprobation, were the actors guided in the least by principle
or disinterestedness—but it is in most instances too
palpable, that if by accident they serve the public essentially,
they have intended but to feed their avarice or
their vanity, without the slightest regard for social or
moral duty; nay, without the least sense of that obligation
which man owes to his fellow or his Maker; and
however worthless the objects of those passports of
public patronage—however false, paltry or insignificant,
their intrinsic composition, the easier is it to obtain advecates,—no
quackery, be it ever so wretched and liable to
detection, if the proper methods be taken by securing the
selfish praise of some petty and venal press, but may be
eminently successful in its imposition—and this latter,
the press, is the most subservient tool in being at the
time—ready to serve the purposes of any one, without
the least deference as to the honour, honesty, or the
licentiousness of the cause it espouses, according to the
directions of the master of those who conduct it: with
the vilest inconsistency, it is ready to defame or laud any
man or measure—and however steady for a day it may
appear, however firm and determined its course for an
hour, yet, like the grave looking demagogue of Athens,
who roared in every assembly of the people against the
increasing power of the Macedonian, the sooner it may
be looked for to change its sentiments—the sooner it will
be corrupted—for like some starved hound, gazing at
other dogs revelling in an enclosure in which it is unable
to break on the kitchen offals, the more envious it is—
the more hungry its maw—the fiercer its barking—but
like the quadruped, it is but desirous of a bone to stop
its mouth;—and so is it with all, no matter what the degree,
or the station, all are for sale, all are to be bought;
and of too much truth is the line of the Roman orator,
“Fit enim deterior qui accipit atque ad idem semper expectandem
paratior.”—And although fortune may be
likened to a fickle courtesan, yet like such, her love and
favours are for the highest bidder, without respect to
qualifications or worth; and though many times accident
or caprice may raise the most unfit to stations whereto
their stupidity folly and vice gives disgrace,—still, too
often bribery is the only stepping stone to elevation
and office. Indeed from the prevalent spirit of the day,
one is led unawares into a reflection many times, similar
to that treated on by Machiavel, in the first book of his
Discourses, “whether, when the people have grown corrupt,
a free government can be maintained, if they enjoy
it,” and which he concludes is impossible—and that a
corrupt people, whom moderate laws cannot correct,
can only be restrained and bound, by enforcing severe
edicts by arbitrary power.—

Day awoke with heavy, languid and wintry light,
above the scene of the late tumult, and calm seemed o'er
the city succeeding the tempest, that, but a short time
before, had shook with alarm to its most distant quarters;
the usual hour, when the busy and stirring citizen crowded
the streets, had passed; an uncommon silence and
desertion pervaded, even in the places often most frequented;
the mechanic and the labourer, though at the
first breaking of the dawn, they had sprang from their
pallets and hastily attired themselves as wont, yet paused
ere they went forth unto their daily toils of life, in strange
and timid uncertainty; it appeared as if a feeling of conscious
guilt hung over all, and each man feared to gaze
upon his neighbour, lest in the countenance he looked on,
he should read the detestation and horror painted in his
own heart; with stealthy pace, and uneasy mind, the
burgher stole forth—and here and there as the hours
journeyed on, at some remote spots in the city, were
gathered small and anxious groups, among whom, discourse
on the events of the past night was busy, and
was carried on in low and fearful whispers; the rashness
that had been displayed, was commented on, and an indefinite
terror filled the breasts of those who listened to
the relations of the fray which was varied by every narrator,
of what would succeed, or in what manner the
massacre of Milbourne and the others, might be viewed;
rumours and tales, disjointed and mutilated, were on
every lip—while those who, either more courageous or
inquisitive than their fellows, had ventured earlier to approach
the front of the Stadthuis, which had been the
chief scene of the bloody drama, and had lingered to
examine the lacerated and torn strips of flesh strewed
around, that had been but awhile before a portion of a
human body, and which, though trodden in the mud and
snow, were easily distinguished by spots of blood frozen
by the morning air, and were handled with a revolting

touch, had returned, and brought with them accounts of
the cruel butchery that had been committed, that made
the hearts of those who questioned thereon, thrill with
horror and wonder, at the extent of rage to which they
had been transported: suspense, as well as inquietude,
now followed, and for a time prevailed over the mind of
each apprehensive citizen; for that day, a change appeared
to have been made in the ordinary habits of the
city; customary occupations and pursuits were abandoned;
few stalls of trade were opened; the bosoms of
men struggled between fear and hope, and those who
remained not in the solitude of their houses in mournful
rumination, sought out their neighbours, to communicate
with them on all the night had witnessed, and to deprecate
the event; but this lasted not long—as the day wore
onwards, the signal of the city bell announced the arrival
of the hour at which the magistrates were used to
hold their sittings for the committal and punishment of
ordinary offenders, and for the conservation of the city's
peace, summarily award the wooden horse, the cucking
stool, the gallows, the transport ship, or the stake. At
the sound, as if moved by one impulse, every step
sought the Stadthuys, and every inquiring eye was bent
towards its walls; and though there might have been
some, who on their way thither, trod reckless by the
stains of crime and death that lay in their path, yet more
than one involuntarily shuddered at the sight as he hurried
past, and it was not long, ere a vast multitude of anxious
burghers had thronged within the portals of the building,
or with troubled visages strove for entrance from the steps
of the stoeb. And the planks laid across the ditch or
schroeinge, in front of the Stadthuys, were filled with
those who endeavoured, by frequent calls on the more
fortunate in advance of their position, to learn such
information as might be obtained from the burgomasters.

Mention hath been heretofore made of the structure,
within which the incidents of the narrative are
about to lead; nevertheless a peculiar description
of its outward appearance will not here be deemed
out of place, nor uninteresting to readers of an age

so famed for improvements in architecture as the
one we live in; for the Stadthuys of Nieuw Amsterdam
was of all the edifices that adorned that ancient city, the
one on which it might pride itself the most, being a very
model of buildings of the kind, on a plan at once ample
and convenient, and worthy of the spirit by which it had
been raised: it was in front of three stories high, composed
of neat Dutch brick, well plaistered and put together
with lime mortar made of oyster shells dragged in
the waters of Kill van Kull, and which had of old been
preferred from the best Holland lime by that judicious
personage, Mienheer Kieft, who had made repeated experiments
of its merit, in the erection of numerous public
edifices, with which during his administration he had
graced the metropolis of the Nieuw Nederlandts; indeed
the stadthuis was itself on the scite of one of the old Dutch
governor's structures, and occupied the ground on which
had stood the famous stadt-herberg, or city tavern, whereon
the liberal and munificent Hollander had expended at
once all the taste and treasure of invention of his ingenious
mind; for if the historian hath done Kieft justice,
he must have been a stout little Dutchman, of magnificent
and stupendous ideas, which were laid out to admirable
purpose, in the zeal with which he straitened the crooked
streets, demolished the ancient public buildings, and
raised on their ruins stately piles of wood and stone,
which were long the boast of the burghers of Nieuw Amsterdam;
in truth Kieft was the Palladio of the colony,
and it is with satisfaction perceived some little of his
spirit of improvement has been caught in these days, the
effects of which, were he alive, would make the thrifty
Nederlander start in wonder and delight; for now the
desire of being busy as well as that of splendor, and of
changing Nieuw Amsterdam into a second Athens, that
filled the bosom of the emulous Kieft, exists with powerful
influence, and urges forward the varied municipal additions,
which keep in motion both the minds of our city
rulers and the money of the citizens, in the laying out,
running, and widening of highways, the levelling of old
houses, and the erection of new ones, and of pulling down
in every quarter, each small and comfortable building for
the sake of raising in their steads tall ungainly heaps of
brick, which are so slightly laid as to threaten daily to
topple on their inhabitants; but indeed there can be no
better example of the excellence of a sway immediate
from the people, than is used in effecting the first of these,
the opening of streets and squares, the original design of
which mostly is awakened in the reflective brain of some
sapient member of the City Council, who, having property
badly situated, takes on himself to increase its
value and make his fortune, (which, by the by, is but
right, seeing his municipal services are rendered without
pay,) by making some new street through the grounds of
his neighbours to his own advantage and to the destruction
both of their comforts and residences; at the same
time smoothing the hurt and injury done, by the cries of
hirelings who have been promised pay, from contracts of
digging paving, or building at the public expense, and who
therefore preach up the benefits of the improvement, so
that the unfortunate man whose ground increases in value
from these causes, has to pay for the expected good more
than is allowed for what is taken from him, and twice
that which he can obtain for what is left, which, on being
forced to abandon in despair, falls into the hands of some
worthy burgomaster for little or nothing, while its original
possessor is a ruined man by the very means he was promised
to have made a mint of wealth: and while such consequence
follows the one, the others keep up a continual
commotion of noise and dust, filling the eyes and spoiling
the coats of all who pass such spots, as where the shallow
pomp and empty vanity of some purse proud knave sprang
from the stable or the cow yard, the amasser of riches by
chance and roguery rather than deserts, raises a palace
for his office or his dwelling. But as to the stadthuis of
Nieuw Amsterdam;—at the era of the narrative, it was
an entire new mansion, and in its erection neither expense
nor talent had been spared as befitted a lordly Dutch
city; in truth, if confidence is to be placed in the register
of the day, and the receipts as recorded of the city collector,
Baruche Judah, are accurate, and the contrary is not
to be presumed, no less a sum than four hundred pounds,
seawant value, was assessed on the groodt und kleiner
Burgerrecht of New Yorke for the purpose, every one
paying in proportion to his property and wealth; his honour
Colonel Frederick Phillipse, contributing as became
his high standing and superior riches, seventeen shillings
and sixpence, wampum peague, a sum at once enormous
for one man, liberal and magnificent as should be remembered
to the praise of the donor:[1] possessed of such large
and ample means to commence the grand undertaking, before
the corner stone was laid, the committee of Burgomasters,
to whose care the matter had been committed,
sat in profound dubitation and council upon the numerous
draughts and plans, that from every corner of the province
had been showered on them for acceptance; indeed
a reward had been offered for the one that should please,
and there was not an architect in the Nieuw Nederlandts,
but who strove for the prize, and as may be supposed, the
variety for choice exceeded all measure, from copies of
every noble structure boasted of in der Vaderlandt, to the
tall spired Indian pagoda. Long and doubtful was the deliberation
ere a decision was made, for such was the precise
and judicious taste that guided the burgomasters,
that scarce any thing that was presented to them, could
satisfy their fastidious desires of perfection, and indeed it is
a chance, if their opinion had been ever settled, although
they smoked much, and drank deep during the consultation,
had it not been for the pre-eminent genius of burgomaster
Outhout, to whom posterity must ever remain indebted;
for with sagacious skill, after having turned over all the
papers, he seized on the uppermost one, being the nearest
at hand, and declared with a round hollandsche oath,
that “dat vash der ding vor hish bleazure mit zome liddle
dalderazion dat he mould make in a minute,” and his
sage opinion was agreed to without dispute; however the
alterations to which the sapient burgomaster referred, were
submitted to his judgment entirely, as all were well aware
they would not in the burgomaster's hand increase the
expenditure: indeed, if possible his determination was to
diminish it, without hurt to the beauty of the intended
building, which stood many years a monument of his wisdom;
for although the composition of the model, was in
all points in proportion, yet desirous of saving a few guilders
of the public money, with honest Dutch thriftiness,
he curtailed it of one third of its breadth; he likewise
sunk the first story and raised the second, so that it might
in somewise, resemble a tall man mounted on the shoulders
of a small one; and as he verily shuddered with affright
when he computed the immense cost of brick which
must have been imported from Holland, to finish the
whole building, he bethought himself of an excellent device,
that as the rear of the edifice looked on the rasp huis,
the cellar kitchen of which was kept by vrouw Burger, it
mattered not of what the same was composed. The
front therefore of the structure was only brick, painted a
flaming dutch yellow, at once brilliant and costly, while
the other part of the building was of a rough brown stone,
without color or finish whatsoever, so that the Stadt-huis
might be compared to a vestcoat, very fine in front,
but common behind. Nevertheless although burgomaster
Outhout, was lauded long and loudly, for such excellent
procedure, and acquired more fame thereby, than any of
his name, since first they had emigrated from Schenkenshaus,
in Betuwe on the Waal, where his ancestry had
drove a respectable trade in the cod fishery, on the dogger
bank, on occupying the edifice, some little inconvenience
it must be admitted was encountered, which however,
it was impossible to lay to the burgomaster's restrictions,
there being in some places a want of light, and
in others too much thereof, some rooms being huge,
long and large, with ceilings, against which the voice
made no sound, but dissipated as it were in the open air,
a grievous thing for weak lunged orators, while others
were so small and cut up, that there was scarce doing any
thing with them;—all this gave rise and food to envy, from
the rival and disappointed architects, and as may be surmised,
they strove to hit off some tart jokes against the noble
building at the cost of their successful comate, who however,
as the latter was justly entitled to, laid all the honor
to the door of the burgomaster, and even it is said, in the
offervescence of his admiration, shared the best part of the
reward for the model with that sapient and puissant dignitary,
which if true, does credit to the proper sense, in
which the worthy burgomaster's talents were estimated,
and puts to defiance all the sarcasms of enemies; one of
whom Peiter Mesier, a runaway bookeverkooper, or bookseller's
apprentice, from Hammerkin in the low countries,
a sorry wag, who presumed on an acquaintance with classic
lore, having once held the bridle of the mule rode
by Thomas a Kempis, (who lived in his neighborhood,
on the river Aa, between Yssel and Vecht,) it is rumored,
had the audacity, in the presence of Mienheer William
Jannewaaye, der milkmensch, (on whom however the
spleen lost effect, for he was a dotard, ignorant, hardheaded
crone, awake only to the gathering of pelf, scarce
knowing how to read or write,) to compare the stadthuis of
the Nieuw Nederlandts, and the mighty, sapient, puissant,
and disinterested personages concerned in its superstructure,
to the raising of the famous Town Hall, of Scheldterbergsh,
in Allemagne, of which his story ran thus. The
Scheldterbergers being desirous of raising a magnificent
city building, and having set about it in earnest, soon
completed a structure at no little cost to themselves, and
the neighbouring cities, who contributed thereto, the whole
being under the direction of one the greatest architects, the
Scheldterbergsh could produce. The exterior of the edifice
was finished to the admiration of all who gazed on it;
crowds rushed in the interior to view it, but what was their
surprise on entering the council chamber, to find it dark
as midnight, so that they bumped against each other's
shins and noses at a terrible rate, and with dolorous execution;
the reason of this phenomenon set them all in
amaze—while the truth was this—the chief builder being
a man wide awake to his own interest, and a certain
sum being allowed for the work, had argued arithmetically,
that one window would do for at least four, and by putting
in one in the place of four, the expense and cost of
three would be clear profit to him; however, finding
the wise men of Scheltderbergsh somewhat crusty at
the explanation he was forced to make, he told them
that if they considered the want of light an evil, it was
easily remedied—that they had but to get large bags and
open them in the sun, and they could catch as much light
as they wished; the idea took, and every bag in the
city was in requisition: this difficulty being got over, a
new one sprung up—owing to the crowd of great men
living at Scheldterbergsh, there was, on putting each
man in his place of state, found to be a want of room, which
caused a grievous complaint, and was a drawback on the
boast of the architect of the hall, which was intended to
serve for ages, and also a great disadvantage to the city;
for those who could not get room in the edifice, withdrew
to a neighbouring tavern in a great huff, and whether
owing to liquor, or the choler natural to their being
almost ejected from the building, fell at loggerheads with
such fury that it was feared they might pull off each other's
ears: the council of Scheldterbergsh being thereon greatly
disturbed, took the matter in consideration; whereon
it was moved and acceded to, that an antidote to their
troubles should be tried, by putting in force an ingenious
contrivance suggested by the architect, whom the
matter had so intimately concerned;—he proposed that
the Scheldterbergers being in the interior, should place
their backs against the walls and push them out, thereby
enlarging the building so as to receive all persons, to
whom place therein should be given; whereupon, with
grievous grunting, groaning, labouring, and sweating,
they set to—but after a long trial, they could not perceive
they had made progress in their enterprise, and
were about to become enraged against the proposer and
proposal, but he requesting their patience, advised all to
divest themselves of their cloaks, and spread them at
the foot of the walls on the outer side; which being done
and the attempt renewed, the architect slily carried away
the offcast garments, while the Scheldterbergers coming
out and seeing them gone, set up a loud shout of success,
supposing they had pushed the walls so as to cover their
cloaks and hide them under the foundation. Now Mienheer
Mesier applied this veritable high German story to
be a right allegory, and in point;—the cunning architect
and builder being easily divined, while the gulled Scheldterbergers
were plainly the Nieuw Amsterdammers, equally
taken with the fabrications and deceit of every rogue
who chose to make his fortune from the public folly,
and ever ready to become the dupes of any artifice,
however palpable or absurd, which wily and designing
knaves may offer as a bait for them to swallow; withal,
however, its flaming and shining hue, the Stadthuys of
Nieuw Amsterdam was a heavy and sombre building,
with a huge, tall, tiled roof, and small dark prison-looking
windows, the pediments of which were of stone—and in
the uppermost story, which served as a gaol, garnished
with gratings and stanchells of iron.

Following the course from the outward gate, which
was now wide open, but which, when closed, was usually
secured by strong bars and bolts, and a chain which led
across it on the inside, the crowd thronged through
the huge hall of the edifice, the walls of which were
rough and unplaistered in many places, and green with
damp as the sides of a dungeon, being cheerless and naked,
except where they were garnished with hangings of
iron fetters, and uncouth implements of torture, interspersed
with weapons of war, arquebusses, pistolets and
partuizans of antique make and form; and made their
way to a low and arched entrance, before which, stood
two civil officers with tall staffs, who, nearly in vain,
strove to distinguish those to allow admission,—and endeavoured
to drive back, with all the mightiness of authority,
the commoner herd, who pushed upon them in
despite of threats and commands. Indeed the consciousness
of the possession of power, however limited and
contemptible, like that of riches, inflates the mind to a
forgetfulness of every thing except its own mightiness—
and a person, who, but a day gone by, met and greeted
you cordially as an equal, be he advanced only to the
shadow of dignity beyond his former state, thinks a cold
nod of contemptuous indifference sufficient, if even he
cares so far to recognize his former intimate or associate.
This feeling, judging from the appearance, seemed peculiarly
to inhabit the breasts of the two guardians of
the door that opened in the apartment, wherein sat some
of the lordly magistracy of New-Yorke, for the crossing

of the threshold, from the anxiety manifested to
pass it, rather increased than diminished by the opposition
made thereto, which was evidently a matter of moment
to the burghers, which was the more apparent,
when after a severe and warm contention of crowding,
pushing, jostling, tramping, kicking, plunging, shouldering
and shoving on both sides, during which, in despite
of vigilance or exertion, here and there an agile fellow,
with an eely slide would elude all caution, and slip from
the herd of his less fortunate companions, into the apartment;
an interval, or rather breathing space of mastery,
was obtained by the puissant keepers of the door way,
over those who claimed admittance—during which, the
greetings and epithets of kindness, that were showered
from the lips of petitioners on the officers, were innumerable
although nugatory, and served merely to increase
their obdurity, by swelling their opinions of their own
self importance: this was more peculiarly evident in the
conduct of one of them, a short thick man, with a black
surly visage, that resembled a cross-grained muzzled
mastiff, and who, to the numerous calls on his acquaintance
and remembrance, was as deaf as a beetle, and with
a coarse growl, bid all keep back—although this bearish
consequence was often dropped to servile humility,
whenever his eye singled out a person struggling in the
crowd whom he supposed of more power than himself,
and for whose benefit, he exerted himself straightway
to make room,—and this last conduct was also followed,
whenever any one was ingenious enough to slip a schilling
in his hand unperceived, and who, whatever were
his disadvantages, quickly was preferred before all that
might have stood in precedence before him. But now
for the interior of the room thus strictly guarded: it
was long and vaulted, with a stone floor, and massive
benches of the same material, placed in rows from the
wall, of which every seat was fast receiving an occupant,
while the apartment itself was filling to an overflow:
at the upper end, the room was divided by a short
railing, on the farther side of which, were on one part,
large yokes of plank or stocks for confining criminals,
by which stood several ragged and meanly attired men
and women, who, by their miserable and squalid looks,
for in some, there was a singular mixture of hardihood
and unconcern, while others, with anxious eye and pale
cheek, gazed about with fearful, uncertain and wandering
glances, were persons, expecting either to undergo
trial or judgment. These were attended by soldiers of
the hofdt wagt: on the part opposite to that last described,
were two forms or benches, the one raised
higher, and beyond the other: on the latter was seated,
in all the pomp and pride of a judge, Dirk Van Rikketie—while
on either side of him were placed, in monstrous
arm chairs of the brightest mahogany, burgomasters
Gelyn Verplancke and Filkins: the seats on the
other, and lower bench, were filled with the officers
of the court, the king's attorney, public notaries, auditors,
common or town clerk, court messenger or
crier, and various other attendants on whom it was
a duty to be present at the burgomasters hof; while the
large apartment was rendered comfortable to its numerous
sojourners by a fire of blocks and billets of wood,
which roared, blazed and ascended with smoke and
flame, up a huge tunnel, the mouth of which was large
enough to accommodate the greatest log cut by the woodman.
In the situation he was now placed, Dirk Van
Rikketie greatly was delighted, and was apparently at
perfect ease: indeed it was proverbial that he loved
the very stench of the apartment—for as the principal
of those who were brought before him were negroes,
Indians, or the lowest sweepings of the whites, the word
in the dog days, though vulgar, was not misapplied—and
now he looked on the crowd before him with exquisite
complaisance, and now he whispered some joke to his
sapient associates, who grinned in return with solemn
shakes of the head, and looked wondrous wise and edified
at his sallies. The anxiety that stirred the populace
was not unknown to Dirk, nor did he feel adverse
to gratifying their curiosity as far as he was able, neither
did he deem it prudent for him to let slip an opportunity
wherein he could please the crowd, and show
by words his devotedness to the new order of affairs that
had commenced in the colony—therefore, as soon as
the crier had finished, and the common clerk, who was
a shock headed, queer, and testy looking little Frenchman,
a huegonot emigrant ftom Provence, had proclaimed
the court in session, having first advised in a whisper
with the burgomasters beside him, in which consultation
Dirk Van Rikketie was the only speaker, those he
communicated with, nodding wisely an assent to all he
advanced, possibly fearful of words, lest they should
commit themselves in ignorance, in dispute with so
learned a jurist, Dirk addressed the burghers in hearing.
First he spoke sadly and mournfully on the distraction
of the times—the horrors of civil war, and the distressing
length to which party spirit had been carried,—
`the woful tragedy that had so lately happened,' he said,
was much to be regretted—and yet he could not help
thinking that the two rash and unfortunate men, from
their turbulence, and the insolent manner with which they
had demeaned themselves towards his excellencie the
governor, (whom the lord preserve for many years to
rule over the province of New-Yorke) had met a fate,
though a dreadful one, which they deserved, seeing, if
they had survived, they could only have been considered
as attainted traitors: secondly, their majesties, in
their sovereign goodness, had sent over to govern the
colony, a man possessing every virtue under heaven; a
pious man—an honourable man—a merciful man—yea,
for his, (the speaker's part) he had long, by reputation,
been acquainted with the good name of colonel Sloughter,
for an honest fame was sweet smelling and savoury,
like a herb of perfume—and he had heard of the govenor's
name across the far waters, long ere he had
beheld his benignant face; and he was ready to vouch,
a better man than his excellency, did not exist—nay,
breathed not in Europe or America; for well he could
foresee, that under his government, peace and happiness
was not only to be restored, but to reign perennial; the
province would be a land flowing with milk and honey,
and the envy of every other colony on the sea board;
and what was not the ancient enemy, the Canadian, to
fear, from the prowess of his arm already? As they
heard his name, they trembled—and the Count De
Frontenac knew his conqueror. Heaven grant his excellency
many years of life, to fulfil all his promise.'
Then he strenuously exhorted all good citizens, to be
firm in their allegiance to their highnesses the king and
queen, and to assist to the uttermost in all he might be
pleased to undertake, his excellencie, their distinguished
subject, the governor of the loyal colony of New-Yorke:
and thirdly, he informed them, that their excellent and
worthy fellow citizens, Colonel Nicholas Bayard, and
master Walter Nichols, had been set at liberty, and
rescued unharmed, from the dungeons in which they
had been so vilely detained by the wicked and turbulent
partizans of Jacobus Leisler, and had been
restored to all the powers, offices, and emoluments
which they formerly held, and which said the speaker, I
pray they may long enjoy, and lastly his excellencie the
Governor, in supreme goodness, mercy, justice and wisdom,
had ordered a commission of Oyer and Terminer,
to be issued to Sir Thomas Robinson, Colonel Smith,
himself, Dirk Van Rikketie, and other judicial authorities,
for the trial on charges of rebellion, against their
leige sovereigns King William and Queen Mary, of the said
Jacobus Leisler, Pieter De Lanoy, and their adherents,
who were now in close confinement, in the very building
in which the Court was sitting, `and though the lord forfend
that he should say, that he believed any man guilty
before he was so adjudged, yet he would venture to affirm
in such case an they were convicted, he for himself would
vouch, and he had no doubt of the honorable and worthy
gentleman joined with him, that although their duty
might be a painful and really distressing one, considering
the ties of citizenship, and intimacy, which bound them to
the culprits, yet it would be firmly performed, without regard
to any thing except strict justice, for it was a maxim
with him, the greater the convict, the greater should
be the example.' This gracious and important communication
being ended, in the course of which, Dirk had ex
pressed sentiments that were diametrically opposite to
those on his lips but the day before, but which were now
the most profitable and reigning opinions, and therefore
he espoused them; the throng was somewhat thinned,
many dispersing to retail to their expectant acquaintances,
that which they had heard from the veracious tongue of
the geheim Schryveir, though others remained, withheld
by curiosity, while the court pursued their ordinary business.
There was sentencing of greedy tavern keepers,
who in despite of law had supplied supper parties of jovial
dutchmen, after the ringing of the bell, or who had
made some thirsty half bred Indian drunk, although the
council had passed an edict against such conduct, and allowed
the word of the savage when sober, as conclusive
evidence against the criminal, who had dared to contravene
the statute, by giving him food for “beastlinesse;”[2]
there were riotous sailors who had been in the holy land,
and creating disturbances with peaceable burghers, had
drawn their knives on the patrouille, who had been called
to quell the riot; these were condemned to throw themselves
three times each one, from the sail yard of the
yacht to which they belonged, and receive from each fellow
mariner on board, three lashes apiece. There were
also matters wherein the judge's discrimination and decision
were more widely exercised, some of these were
cases in which the delict had been informed against, for
eluding the spirit and letter of the laws made for public security
and welfare, as where an adventurous swine, the property
of a griping old fellow called Hauns Pieterse, had
strayed into the kitchen garden of burgomaster Bresier, and
cropped all the best of his cabbages; whereupon the burgomaster
became so worth, he being a mighty lover of
good eating, and passionately fond of cabbages, that he
seized upon the fourlegged offender, and had him impounded,
against which proceeding Pieterse appealed;-whereon
after maturely hearing the point in controversy, judgment
was given thus equitable, that as Pieterse it appeared was
not fit to keep hogs, the porker was forfeited, and ordered
to be sold at the next fair, and the proceeds of
his sale, to be divided proportionately, half to the justices,
and half to the informer, the said burgomaster
Bresier, and the “konstabel” were commanded to
pay the costs. Numerous indeed were the admirable
constructions and illustrative definitions of the jurisprudence
of the province propounded and pronounced by the
sapient Dirk Van Rikketie, and acceded to by his no
less wise and erudite associates, in the many similar
causes which came before them. Now, although the
statute laws of the colony in themselves were at this time
few, and (as might be supposed from perusal) easy of
being understood, being that singular code well known to
the antiquarian by the title of “The Duke's laws,” yet
nevertheless, while these were in some sort the common
law of the land, the members of the colonial assembly
and the burgomasters of the city were daily, in their discreet
wisdom, drafting and publishing edicts after their
own sovereign will, which natheless unmeant by them,
went in direct contravention to the “Jus novæ eboracensis;”
whereby, two opposite ordinances being in equal
force, a criminal was condemned by one, and cleared for
the same misdemeanour by the other; so, doing little
help to either morals, justice, or to the community. And
when, after having done incalculable service to wealthy
and powerful rogues, and having been the bane or death
of every poor vagabond who was unable from want of
money to bribe fortune, (for that reigns above right or
wrong, and to it justice is subservient;) a dead set was
perhaps made to remedy the evil by passing some amendment
to the original form of the act: but as most opportunely
for the well being of society, the honest men whose
unthankful duty it behoves to enact laws have generally
less care to make them perfect than the rogue, whose
chief study it has always been to find some hole in the
labour, of which he may avail himself—the matter of complaint
by such new consideration was often rendered worse;
and so the thing was necessary to be again and again reviewed,
but seldom to any better purpose. Although the
acts themselves would have scarce filled a diminutive volume,
yet their additions made ponderous tomes; for indeed
both resembled the will of some peevish old man with a
large estate, who every day found cause to change the disposal
of his property, and one hour makes a codicil, which
in the next he destroys to make way for two others diametrically
opposite to his former intention, and probably ere
long both the last are revoked to make room for twice
their number, varying the disposition of the hypochondriac's
estate in a manner in which he is not a whit more satisfied.
Now, as may be supposed, the confusion arising from
the multiplicity of sub-edicts was the very element in which
the sagacity, probity and acuteness of Dirk was pre-eminent;
and the reader cannot be surprised from what he
hath already read of the talents of this learned character,
that the skill with which he thrided the labyrinth
was at once superior and astonishing; in truth, no man
living could apply the letter of the law so perfectly as he
could; he knew well when the time was proper to impose
a slight mulct, and when, for the self same infringement
of the public peace, a severe corporal punishment
ought to be inflicted; and withal, he was a merciful creature,
imbued with the very milk of human kindness; for
he was at all times ready to intercede for a pardon for the
very vilest convict, if some influential man requested it
of him. Indeed, the records of Nieuw Nederlandts are
fraught with numberless examples of the geheîmschryver's
virtues, for it was an invariable rule with him to
correct all reports of causes that came before him, by
erasing every thing that tended to interfere with the side
of the question which in his wisdom it had pleased him to
espouse; and no one can blame him therefor, seeing that
iniquity and wickedness can present many times a plausible
set of motives for action, which, as evil has more converts
and followers than virtue, might (being given publicity)
be tended with ill effects on minds in whom a
neutrality as to the matter may have made but poor and
uninterested judges; whereas the light in which Dirk had
eyed the subject being showered on the public, it totally
suppressed all murmurs of contradiction or condemnation
of the course he had chosen; for Dirk was fully
aware of the nature of mankind, and well knew no human
work is so perfect as to please every body. An example of
the rigorous, certain and unimpeachable manner in which
Dirk construed the penal statutes of the colony was observable
at the hour of the narrative, in the sentence which in
conjunction with the puissant burgomasters who were at
his elbow, he passed upon two certain offenders; considerable
interest and attention had been excited on the occasion,
and after burgomaster Breiser's and Hauns Peiterse's
business was disposed of, there was a hum of expectation
and conjecture among the crowd of hearers that thronged
the apartment—Dirk's countenance became more solemn
and important, and his two puissant supporters shook their
heads with pompous gravity; while every understrapper
of the court took the infection, and demeaned himself in
accordance with the visages of his superiors. Now the
fact, as appears from the chronicles yet extant, in the
first case, was this:—there was one Jan Hobbes, of facetious
memory, of whom a mention hath been heretofore
slightly made, a meddlesome, scandalous fellow, given
wonderfully to writing and making books, and therefore
was considered a person of little consequence in the stadt,
his calling being a mean trade and not allowed the city
license as a freeman. Now Jan being of a mischievous
nature and terribly discontented with the times, took on
himself to prove that matters and things were not as they
ought to have been, and that the lusty burghers of Nieuw
Amsterdam had derogated from the honesty and virtue
of their ancestors who had first founded the Dorp; and being
misled by wrong advice, `and not,' as the tradition
forcibly remarks, `having the fear of man and the law in
his sight,' did most sacrilegiously and outrageously profane
the people's ear with the unworthiness of certain
friends of Dirk Van Rikketie. Now it must be apparent
that nothing can be more libellous or disgusting to sense
and feeling than for a dirty fellow to brush against our
best attire and leave mud and stains upon us as he passes
—or what can be more offensive than for a scavenger to
shake his dirt and dust in our faces after we have just
cleansed ourselves from impurity? `yet such were nothing,'
saith the tradition, `compared to the acts of wilful Jan'—
who without the least delicacy or remorse, such a har
dened creature was he, by the most indelicate allusions
recalled to the minds of great men what they had been.
`The horrid enormity thrills one with affright,' continues
the sensitive writer of the chronicle; `hanging, the
wooden horse, and the cucking stool, were all too little
for such a wretch, who dared boldly tell the truth, even
though he insulted the sacred presence of a burgomaster.'

Now after this ebullition of rage and indignation, the
chronicler goes into a learned dissertation on truth,
wherein he concludes that to speak it to any man of
influence or power is a most unpardonable aggression,
and deserves the thumbscrew. Now Jan, although
he ought to have known of the risk he was at
of certain punishment for his crime, for had he tasked his
memory he would have recollected how Hendrick Jansen,
in the days of Wouter Van Twiller, was sentenced for
scandalizing the governor to a heavy penalty, namely, to
ride with face to the tail, behind the town crier, on a
jackass through the principal streets, the libeller having a
bridle in his mouth, a bunch of rods under his arm, and
an appropriate label on his breast, and acknowledge that
he lied falsely[3] “dat de exegellenge did niet wears rood
broeks nor was grate mit hish plack frouw.” Neither
was there anything of which, in his wickedness, Jan could
be made to repent, for he was a stubborn sinner:—therefore
Dirk off hand pronounced him guilty of all charges
brought against him, considering it utterly unimportant
that Jan should be heard at all in his defence; for what
could any one say for himself that had perpetrated crimes
so heinous—who had without compunction ridiculed the
consequence of a warrior tailor, exposed the mock importance
of sundry self-conceited magnificents, and laughed
with irreverent scorn at the grave decorum and splendid
attainments of divers spectacled and profound Dutch
doctors and professors,—rendering by such derision of no
avail the laborious endeavours of these puissant and sapient
characters, to impress the minds of the burghers of
the Nieuw Nederlandts with a high opinion of their vast
erudition, ingenuity, and mightiness. Now it must be

premised that Dirk well knew Jan Hobbes was not worth
a groat, and therefore had but little chance of having
over many influential characters step forward in his favour;
yet at the bottom of his heart there lurked a latent
fear that in case he enraged the satirist, he might turn his
venom on him. `Although in such conclusion Dirk
must have been deceived,' saith the Chronicle, `for no
man, not even Jan Hobbes, could have been of so ruthless
a disposition as to injure the fine and delicate feelings of
an honourable man of the virtue, candour, good-nature,
and perfect honesty and disinterestedness of Dirk Van
Rikketie;'—howbeit the wisdom of Dirk was exercised
in the matter, so that hereafter he might excuse himself
to Jan. He therefore, well knowing the answer that
would be received, inquired first of Burgomaster Filkins,
his opinion whether or no it would be popular to send Jan
to the Rasp huis, and quoted authorities therefor; as was
to be expected, Filkins, although he thought the matter
had better be made up, yet as he wanted Dirk to interest
himself in getting the vroedschap to pass a law to widen a
street where he held property, assented without refutation
of Dirk's various arguments pro and con; and
Burgomaster Gelyne, on Dirk's inquiry, bowed with
grave dignity his head in acquiescence, he having been
before the matter came up impressed against Jan by
his comate burgomaster Ezel-een Mensch, the mortal
foeman of the wicked satirist—so Dirk secure in shifting
the blame from his own shoulders on that of his associates
if any should be found, went on in decreeing the punishment
of Jan Hobbes, with stern composure; after descanting
largely and uncontradicted, Jan not being allowed a
word, on the enormity of the offence, which was, as Dirk
sublimely expressed it, with a significant annotation,
worse than murder or robbery, for as the poet laid down,
“he that steals my purse steals trash; but he that filches
my good name, makes me poor indeed”—Dirk closed
(however, first taking care to bestow one or two compliments
on Jan's talents, as was his custom, to keep Jan in
a good humour with himself,) by saying that the Court,
in mercy to his poverty, had fined him a sum of money
which he knew Jan was then unable to pay, therefore, in
commutation of his fine, they committed him to the rasphuis
until he could make the money to discharge the
mulct, and as authority for such procedure, he drew
profusely from the case of Baron Van Slightenhorst, the
agent for the Patroon of Ranselearwyck, who having
quarreled with Governor Stuyvesant, in the earlier day
of the Nieuw Nederlandt, on some question of jurisdiction
between that manor and the colony, was arrested and
confined by the order of the testy old Dutchman at Nieuw
Amsterdam on a charge of crimen lasæ majestatis, and heavily
fined therefor, in a certain sum, but which, understanding
he was ready to pay, having the money, the
Court that condemned reconsidered their fiat, and doubled
the amount of the mulct, the first being supposed no
punishment, as he could discharge it, and on appeal from
the last decree, the baron complained that neither himself
nor friends were in any wise able to raise the required
money, the Governor decided, that the baron should
stay in prison till he could make it,[4] or until he begged his
pardon, and got the Court to recommend him to mercy.
The other delinquent that was brought before this incorruptible
trio, was a noisy, vain, blustering blackguard,
coxcomb of a fellow, the gossip of the town, a man whose
veracity was as doubtful as his principles were bad: he
was charged with theft, in stealing and breaking open a
letter directed to a worthy burgher, in whose affairs he
was somewhat curious, and with whose private business
this convict was desirous of meddling and of exposing his
secrets to the city; the matter was completely made out
against the criminal, but he being an intimate of Dirk,
this wise and irreproachable judge considered it proper,
as he could not pass an impartial sentence on him, that
the same should be postponed until he should leave the
office of Geheim Schryveir, which might one day or the
other come to pass, as he supposed, or otherwise until
the last mentioned criminal should become his enemy,
which might be the case in his espousing the wrong side
in some political struggle. After this last proceeding was
gone through with, the business of the day being over,
and the city bell about to ring the signal for dinner, for
which, after the fulfilment of such arduous judicial duties
as they had performed, none felt more eager than the
magistrates; the prisoners, sentenced and unsentenced,
were removed to safe keeping, and by direction, the
hoarse voice of the crier, in formal manner, adjourned
the hoofdt, and Dirk and his puissant associates prepared
to leave their seats of dignity, and mingle in the body of
the dispersing audience, who were fain to wend away
with homeward steps; but ere Dirk had crossed the
apartment, his steps were stayed as were the burgomasters,
whose departures were regulated by his motions;
a stripling, partly enveloped in a cloak, and who appeared
to have been watching the breaking up of the Court
with eager and anxious impatience, sprang from a bench
by which Dirk was about passing, and with imploring
looks and in beseeching tones entreated his attention as
he clung to his garments and withheld his departure—

“Stay but a for moment, Mienheers,” exclaimed the youth
in a pleading and mournful tone, “stay but for a moment,
Sirs; ye who have been the bosom friends of the unfortunate
Jacob Leisler; ye who I have seen his supporters
and confidants, and more particularly you, heer Dirk, for
whom he hath done so much, stay your steps but for a
minute—by the memory of your former friendship, your
ancient league and alliance; by all that hath passed in favour
between ye, Sirs, I entreat, charge ye bestow kindness
on his child, on Arnyte Leisler, who stands before
you. For hours vain have I strove to gain a minute's
sight, a word with him—I have been put back by loaded
guns of guards, and driven with hoarse threats from my
attempts. Good friends, I only ask ye to allow me to
share his rugged dungeon with him, to sit by him and
console him in his sorrows, to support his aged head upon
my breast—for God's sake, Sirs, though the world may
have deserted him, though all whom he relied on may
have turned foes; let him not in the darkness of his wo
for a moment suppose that I, his son, his child, have fled
him too—have turned recreant with the rest.”

The feelings with which Dirk heard and received this
address, were by no means those of complaisance, indeed
he was as much startled by the sudden and unlooked for
presence of Arnyte, as if in his pathway a serpent had
sprang up and met his approach with barbed and poisonous
tongue, nor were the words of the stripling over well
chosen, either for the attainment of that he petitioned
for, had there at the moment been any inclination in Dirk's
breast to grant it, or such as, as they reminded him of passages,
which, at the present, he would fain have had forgotten,
were well calculated to be acceptable to his hearing,
he therefore, judging by his actions and countenance,
appeared not a little displeased by his detention, and with
quick and somewhat fearful glances, he looked about him
to see who was within hearing, and then with a hasty and
impatient motion, he strove to drag the skirt of his jerkin
from the hands of the youth, but he failed, for Arnyte
hung to it with all the pertinacity of despair.

“Nay, you shall not leave me,” cried he, “you shall
not do yourself the wrong to quit me thus, plunged in the
bitterness of affliction, nor extend the hand to help me in
my grief; the world speaks of you as a merciful, a compassionate
man; belie it not—show pity unto me—the
favour I seek is small in granting, yet if I gain it not, I
shall be most wretched, most miserable.”

Finding it difficult to unloose the hold of the stripling
without answer and in silence, unless by main force, Dirk
unbent his sternness, and in his most generous and considerate
manner, explained to Arnyte the impossibility of
his complying with his desires, as it was in direct contravention
he asserted to his excellency, the Governor's orders
on the matter; and that by permitting any person,
even his son, to have an interview at this time with an attainted
traitor, like Jacobus Leisler, he would be committing
crime as a man, and betraying the trust imposed
on him, as holding the station with which he was honoured
by public confidence; the fact was, the thing was entirely
against all rules and regulations, nay, against the law of
the colony itself; he much regretted it—it was a hard
case it must be confessed; but so it was, and he could

show the book, the very page, where the strictness of procedure
that was pursued with Mienheer Leisler was laid
down incontrovertibly; therefore he concluded it was
idle to request that which he was unable in any wise to
allow, and advised with the most friendly solicitude for his
welfare, that the young man should depart and make up
his mind to the dire necessity, as easy as the exigency
would suffer: and then finding the grasp of Arnyte relax
in utter hopelessness at his refusal of entrance to his parent,
he eagerly snatched the hem of his garment by
which he had been detained from the trembling hands of
the youth, and hastily strode away, leaving his suitor
overwhelmed with misfortune.

“He bids me begone! he bids me home! alas, I have
now no home; no roof shelters now the ruined family of
Leisler,” ejaculated, after a moment's pause, the agonized
stripling, “and what shall I do hence, when my duty lies
here? away I can give no relief; the heart-broken murmurs
of my poor mother distract me in our miserable home,
and I cannot sooth them even with hope, and here, yes,
in my father's dungeon my duty lies. Stay and hear me,”
continued he, interposing himself before the departing
burgomasters, “ye are fathers! ye have sons, even as
myself: reflect! did your situation as that of mine call on
your offspring, bethink ye, from that love they should
bear ye, in gratitude for the hours of servance in infancy,
the care, tears, and anxiety, ye have bestowed upon their
helplessness, were it not hard, cruel, to be denied but to
gaze upon your face, to clasp your hand, to share your
misery. If ye are men, formed in the mould of humanity:
if your hearts are not harder than the gyves that hang
upon yon wall, ye cannot deny my reasonable beseeching—ah!
and will ye not listen to me? can ye have the
souls, the frozen, icy souls to leave me with denial? for
mercy, sirs, can ye think light of the charge upon me?
remember ye not the precept of the holy book, and
would ye interfere with the commands of him whose
chariot is the whirlwind? I have spoken to you as fathers;
ye have been sons too; ye have felt the fostering care,
the tender warding from harm, and the thousand indescribable

links of parental tenderness; then will ye hinder,
for a moment, a son seeking to refund the great debt
so strongly bound upon his existence, yea, for life; for
when have I wept and he had the power that my tears
were not dried; hath he not borne me through the dangers
of my infancy and should he have cause to believe
that in this hour of adversity ungratefully I shunned his
fortune—nay, tell me it not, though it hath been so said,
the Governor's mandate doth not intervene; ye have the
power and can admit me to clasp his neck and kiss his
aged cheek.”

The stern determination of the sturdy burgomasters
was not, however, to be shaken by the piteous pleadings
of young Arnyte. They were possessed in too great a
degree with the influence of that base tyrannical feeling,
so common in the breast of man, that delights to have
acknowledged by the degradation of his creatures, the
power and superiority which it is luxury to exercise on
all but mercy—yes, there are some who, like statues,
love to hear their fellow beings sue and pray in vain,
proud in their hour of might, nor give a thought to the
transitory and fleeting changes of life, never deeming
their turn of lowliness may chance. Few, indeed, in the
summer hour of wanton prosperity, dream of the wintry
storm that will follow in the uncertain course of human
existence. With grim and unbending frowns the haughty
burgomasters met the tearful eyes of the boy, upon whose
long dark lashes the heavy drops fell, as when the spray,
kissed by the morning breeze, showers the dews that the
night spirit weeps upon the sleeping flowers;—he pleaded
to men, who, though in the common path of their duty as
burghers were kind and bore the reputation of religion—
but who, filled with consequence and authority, were rendered
cold and hardened as rocks on whose bleak sides
the ice of winter clings. Neither is such carelessness of
the miseries of a fellow creature, however inhuman, confined
to the selfish breasts of Mienheers Filkins and Verplanck;
numbers, even in these times, who have the reputation
of charity, who spend money to relieve the unfortunate
of their species, to appearance liberally—forsooth

because they have taken the pains to let the world
into the secrets of their alms; and who thereby have
their vanity fed by public praise: yet they will grind the
poor debtor for the last shilling reserved to obtain bread,
and exult in his ruin and mourning. The burgomasters
unrelentingly repulsed the youth, and shook him roughly
and unceremoniously from their path.

“Pize on ye, younker, this is uncivil of you to pester us
—pugh—you have had our answer, pugh,” quoth Heer Filkins,
frappishly, as he strode away with an eager, shuffling
pace, as anxious to be rid of Arnyte's importunities.

“Ja! mannikin—dis is der nonschenze do geeb beobles
vor noding ven mien tinner is krowing gold,” echoed
burgomaster Gelyn, and he drew his steps after those of
his worthy associate—the eyes of Arnyte followed their
departure with a look of reproachful bitterness.

“And these,” he murmured indignantly, “are the men
my deluded and abused parent fostered and warmed in his
confidence, little recking that they followed him but for his
prosperity; these are the men that broke his bread and shared
his salt, and held his wine cup to their lips, and basked in
the smiles of his favour; and these he trusted, on such
as these he depended, nor dreamt of cold ingratitude.
Good heaven! am I deceived—am I within the pale of
civilized men, and can these things be? But yesterday,
the losel that hangs about the palace gate, and watches
for the crumbs the menials throw into the street, and
worships as a deity the veriest varlet that spurns him,
was not more lowly and abject than these time serving
sycophants, who now cast me away in scorn, and tread
me down as though I were a worm fit but to be crushed.
Oh, were that yesterday to return! Alas, alas! our sun
is set, and these birds that wantoned in its beams, fly the
shade:” he wrung his hands in anguish of spirit. “And
it is in the hands of beings thus cold, frozen and untouched
by human feelings, that my poor parent's destiny is
placed! what hope has he of justice? his unspotted loyalty—his
noble, daring exertions for the revolution—his
fortune spent in the Protestant cause—will these not
avail against the machinations of his enemies? they must,

they shall speak, (even should it come to that) with
trumpet tongue at the foot of the throne. And yet relief
is distant, and I cannot bear to think on it;—he suffers—his
aged limbs upon the dank dungeon floor—his
wife, his son, his friends forced from his presence, nor allowed
to share his sorrow. Great God! and I the cause!
I could have fled the pirates' den alone, and now this
Sloughter's mangled corpse had been food for the raging
wolf. And do I, shame on my lip that breathes the word,
regret saving a fellow creature from the murtherer's
knife? no! let what may happen that shall not be; the
very act done by these young hands shall plead even to
the gates of mercy, were they to seek his life. His life!
great God, his life!—what have I said—my father's life!
they will not, dare not attempt so foul a deed. Yet, their
hands are red with Milbourne's blood; but that was in
the moment of wild, ungoverned passion; reason was lost
—and he was rash and quick of temper; but my father
is old, is mild, is kind, is gentle.—No! the earth itself
would yawn, and swallow up the homicides that would
think on a crime so monstrous, foul and base—out on it!
the wild, mad thought doth fret me, and makes my heart
heat at my ribs in terror, and my pulses throb like those
of a chased and affrighted deer;—still, still I cannot
quell these dreadful,—fearful ideas that throng in horror
through my busy brain, and make me shrink from what
may come.” He cast himself at length upon the nearest
bench, and pressed hastily his heated brows to the stone,
as if to gather relief from its coldness to his burning temples.
After a short interval of uneasy rumination, he
continued:—“Too surely men cannot be so utterly
abandoned to all faith—so entirely regardless of every
ancient favour and friendship; there still must be some
who will venture limb, ere that which I dare not name
should happen:—too sure they will not allow him to
perish without an effort, however desperate. If words
fail, why the sword,—the sword remains. Alas! this is
but folly,—the very error of a dream; Manning, the
vilest of traitors suffered not death, disgrace alone was
his portion. My dear parent hath done nought that merits
ignominy or persecution; certain it is, severely would
their highnesses the king and queen visit on the heads of
the offenders their anger, did they but presume to touch
one hair of his revered head—but yet it is the wrath,—
the frenzy of the present hour,—the delirium, that hath
seized upon the minds of men and leads them remorseless,
pitiless and unthinking to rage like hungered beasts
of prey, and thirst for blood—that makes me tremble:
great God! they have already had a taste of gore, and
Milbourne may not be the only victim of their sacrifice.”
He broke off the sentence as if shuddering at the image
his own mind had conjured up, and then suddenly added
in a hurried and resolute voice, “by heaven! I must,—
I will see him, though I die in the attempt.”

“Who, in the devil's name, is it you want to see, and
what are you doing here, young one, when every body
else hath gone about their business? come, tramp;
take yourself off in a gliff; I am going to lock up;” said
a harsh, coarse voice that sounded like the noise made by
the grinding of a ragged millstone, at the side of the
stripling, at the same time he was roughly seized and
dragged from the bench. Arnyte started on his feet and
turned towards the speaker; he was a tall, ill-favoured,
bony, muscular looking man, with heavy and clumsily
jointed limbs, and an unpleasant expression of countenance,
every feature of which savoured of cunning
malice and wickedness—large, thick black eyebrows
overhung his small grey eyes, in which could be read little
favourable to their possessor, for they were lightened
by that sinister expression alone that bespeaks at once
selfishness and insolence of power;—a knotted forehead,
a long drooping nose with wide nostrils, a large
mouth, and a sallow complexion,—formed a visage from
which ignorance, dulness and hard-heartedness only could
be presumed. From the attire and appearance of this
personage his calling was easily to be divined; he had on
a sad-coloured jerkin and doublet, with a leathern belt
round his waist, from which depended a huge bunch of
keys, most of which were of enormous size. He was
the provost marshal, or city jailer; at his back were two

assistants; one, a lank, thin, ugly, bearish looking fellow,
with large goggle eyes and beetle brows, and the other, a
stout, lusty, clownish lout; the one was armed with a
long steel-headed pike, while the other carried a number
of fetters, anklets and chains of iron.

“Ah! is it you, burgomaster?”—said Arnyte, forgetting
the unceremonious manner in which he had been just
used by the hands of this personage, as he perceived
who it was, and giving him the title which he had formerly
been dignified with,—for it is certain that the same
care in the ancient day was taken with all such ci-devant
characters of consequence as is done in the present, by
giving them or their relations some posts of profit; for it
is a hard thing to serve the public without pay, unless one
is rewarded at least with a dirt contract, or can in some
way get remunerated from the ever open pockets of the
grateful burghers;—this was the prevalent idea of the
day, and the city was always well served; for if a street
was paved, a hill dug down, or the public wharves let, the
son, second cousin, uncle, or the burgomaster himself
undertook the matter; and although the stadt was
charged somewhat more than the things could have been
effected for by others, yet it is well known the dearer
the purchase, oftener the better goods; and then the
advantage was to be considered of having such matters
carried on under the immediate inspection of a father
of the Stadt, who of course, would take the greatest
charge, and exercise the most careful economy as
to the manner of the work, and the cost and expenditure.
Roelofsen Stoutenbergh, for such was the name
of the city jailer, when elected to the Vroedschap,
was somewhat stricken with poverty—so much so, that
it is said it was a hard matter for him to muster up a
gabardine befitting his puissant situation; indeed his
rise was one of those singular freaks of fortune, which
assimilates to the elevation of a tailor or hatter, to the
rank of a general, or a baker to that of a mayor—several
singular instances of which marvellous chances,
have been the wonderment of the good burghers of Nieuw
Amsterdam; nevertheless Roelofsen, though very poor,

counted much on certain expectations from his father-in-law,
an old, rich, swearing, drunken gardener, of
Schakabanica; but he well knew it is long waiting for
dead men's shoes, so as soon as he got a chance of getting
a snug place, he left the station of burgomaster, and
assumed the salaried place of the provost marshal—an
office of considerable profit, as will be seen hereafter; adjoined
to the regular income of which situation, he obtained
an order of the council, which allowed him certain perquisites
of an extra nature, for conducting criminals to jail,
to the whipping post, the wooden horse, the cucking
stool, the transport ship, and the gallows—his profits,
particularly in the latter case, being oftentimes considerable,
as he was not only the receiver of the breeches
of the dead convict, but was his sole executor and heir;
and this last capacity, was not alone confined to such instances,
but numerous others could be enumerated,
wherein he exercised it by virtue of his station.

“Ah, burgomaster, is it you!” exclaimed Arnyte, a
beam of hope lighting his eyes, as he eagerly seized
the huge and reluctant hand of the provost marshal,
“right glad am I to behold you—for in your power, lies
the granting of that which I seek, and for which, an you
extend your help to the afflicted and unfortunate, a hundred
blessings will be showered on your head. My father,
Jacob Leisler, is in confinement under your charge
—you cannot, be you a man, deny a child the sight of
his parent; allow me then, kind Mienheer, to have an
interview but for a few brief moments with him—I ask
no more.”—

“Um—have you an order to effect admission, from
any of the sitting magistrates?” returned the jailer in a
growling tone, and coldly withdrawing his hand from the
tremulous grasp of the youth—

“Alas, no, they have refused me, sternly refused
me,” answered Arnyte in a desponding voice.

“Fico! young one, and did you believe I would let
you see the fish withouten order? um—it can't be, master,”
said the jailer gruffly.

“For heaven's sake, good burgomaster, what harm

can there be in such conference as I will hold with my
fallen and desolate parent?”

“There's so much harm, that I won't let you in—fico!
I won't do it, young one, so you'd best be off withouten
more words,” replied the jailer short and testily.

“Nay, Mienheer Stoutenbergh,” quoth Arnyte somewhat
warmly, his spirit rising at the obdurate and insulting
bearing of the provost marshal, “is Jacob Leisler
one who hath coldly and unprovoked, embrued his
hands in innocent blood, and foully acted a deed of wanton
murther, or who hath felon-like threatened the existence
of his creature, for gold? Is he, I say, a convicted
knave, stained with crime—an outlawed villain,
who hath put to the defiance all human law—a blasphemer
of his Maker, that he and his are treated thus
with contumely? I repeat it, Mienheer, you have those,
the vilest of mankind, the homicide and the robber, in
your custody, to whom more leniency is shown, than to
him, who, whilome, was your ruler.

“Young one, I know my duty withouten your teaching,”
quoth the jailer in reply, and advancing on Arnyte
with fierce and impatient gestures, “come, no more ado,
nor wag that saucy tongue of thine so fast—but get thee
on thy way—troop, I say.”

“Sirrah! thou hast grown insolent with thy place,
and dost forget thyself too far,” indignantly returned the
provoked stripling, the blood crimsoning with a warm
flush of ire, his cheek, and his veins swelling as the angry
tide rushed through them, “I tell thee what, sir
knave, this bearing towards me, doth ill become thee;
sooth! it is not so long, since you quitted the losel rags
of your birth, that you may perchance resume them; I
say you may live to repent your inhumanity.”

Scarce had Arnyte, with proud and undaunted confidence,
uttered these imprudent words, when the jailer,
who had heretofore unloosened the keys from his girdle,
and had held them in his hand during the last speech,
and now stung to brutal passion by the youth's invective,
suddenly and violently struck the stripling in the face
with them, who, with a piercing shriek of agony, in an

instant sank down senseless on the stone pavement at
the feet of his savage oppressor, his blood gushing from
the wounds made with the iron weapons, and his eyes
and nostrils running a stream of gore, which welled
around his prostrate body.

“That, malapert, will learn thee to be civil,” said the
provost marshal, as with a ferocious scowl he bent over
his fallen victim. “Here, Boele,” continued he, addressing
one of his attendants, “take this audacious varlet and
throw him out of doors on the slip, where his kinsman
met his fate. These Leisler hounds were all an impudent
race, it would not bring many tears from me did the
Aansprecker[5] go his rounds for the whole set o' them—
and hark thee, Boele, when thou hast done that job, close
this room while I look to the under wards, here's the
keys. So now Dolph you may bring along the bracelets.”

Having thus directed, the provost marshal, accompanied
by the assistant who carried the fetters, quitted the
apartment; spurning as he went, with ruthless and unfeeling
unconcern, with his foot from his way his felled
and feeble antagonist; nor betraying in his unmoved and
sodden face the least pity or care as to the situation of
the rash boy, who had so incautiously brought on his
head his barbarous ire. The blow by which Arnyte had
been borne down was heavy and stunning, and if deliberately
aimed would doubtless have been fatal; but though
the flesh about the forehead was bruised and torn, and
his visage was gashed and lacerated wherever the keys
had scattered when he was struck by them, yet his insensibility
was happily but of short duration; for as he lay, a
sudden quickening of life came over him, and he felt a
hand busied upon his apparel. Recollection returned,
and the cold sweat that had bedewed his limbs died away
—every sinew of an instant was braced, and with an agitated
and convulsive motion, the effort of strength in
which apparently was beyond his years and delicate form,
he started on his feet. The first sound as he rose that
broke on his hearing was the rattling of something which
he seemed to have flung from him in rising; he dashed
aside with a hasty hand the clotted and gory locks that

blinded his eyes. On the floor from which he had started
lay a piece of money, while at a pace's distance, out-stretched
upon the pavement of the room, was the provost
marshal's assistant, in whose charge Arnyte had
been delivered; the man had been cast in this prostrate
situation while busied in plundering the youth, unexpecting
his sudden recovery. As Arnyte beheld the sullen
and disappointed glances with which the fellow eyed the
piece that had evidently escaped his clutches by the unlooked
for movement, and saw the eager struggling which
shook his outstretched hand as he resumed his feet, for
the possession of the glittering metal—a dread of further
violence came over the mind of the stripling, which increased
as he marked the threatening frown and surly
look with which he was gazed at.

“Here,” said Arnyte, taking up the dubbeltje and holding
it out for the acceptance of the turnkey, while a hope
of winning him to his purpose ran through his mind,
“here, take this good friend, and I will add to it a zesthalven,
which is all I have about me—aye, nearly all my
ruined fortunes hath left since they have seized upon my
parent's homestead, and hold it in the crown's name.
Take it, good friend, and let me but pass to the dungeon
of Jacob Leisler;” the man eagerly snatched at the money,
but hesitated on the request of the youth, who strenuously
renewed his entreaties. “Let me but pass, kind
friend—let me but enter his dungeon—my life shall be a
toil for you; my prayers shall be your reward; heaven
will bless you for the deed;—yea, the memory of it shall
live in my breast until it is cold in the grave. I have not
perhaps wherewithal now to repay such kindness, but depend
on it if I live you shall meet your deserts. There
are, there must be some who will extend their hands to
relieve the house of Leisler; and from them you shall receive
that gold which I am unsupplied with: and should
it be, as well I hope, that my family is restored to its former
consequence and possessions, I pledge myself this favour
shall be among the first that return shall be given to
—let me but pass, kind friend, and cheer him in his lonesome
dungeon.”

The fellow's resolution was apparently shaken by this
appeal, and after a moment's faint refusal his determination
was entirely changed by the sight of the zesthalven,
which Arnyte drew forth and held in his hand, and he
consented to conduct him to his father's prison. Arnyte
overwhelmed him with thanks and promises, as with cautious
steps he led him forth from the apartment to the
hall; when after commending him to silence, with a
stealthy pace they proceeded to mount the stairs that led
to the upper stories of the building. They were a wide
and heavy flight, with a clumsy balustrade, of which every
banister was carved, and was as thick as a man's arm.
On arriving at the top they came to a small and dark entry,
at the apparent end of which was a door of solid plank
studded with enormous nails, and braced and banded
with strips of iron; a chain was drawn across it on the
outside. Having undone this, and covering the large lock
as he opened it with his cloak, so as to deaden the creaking
of the key while it turned, the guide unlocked an inner
door or rather grating, and bid Arnyte enter, telling
him he must remain quiet within until after the rounds
had passed, when he would return and conduct him without
the stadthuis walls; he then left him, carefully closing
and locking the doors after him as he departed. Arnyte listened
for an instant to the harsh creaking of the lock,
which seemed to shut him in from the world, and looked
for a moment on the ponderous doors with an involuntary
shudder which he could not conquer, as it ran through
his frame; then with a sore heart he turned to the dismal
abode of wretchedness and crime in which he had
entered, and prepared to meet the unfortunate Jacob
Leisler within the miserable precincts.