BOOK II.
CHAPTER I.
"All in the olden time."
"Our ancestors smoked long pipes, wore breeches and buckles, spoke in a strange tongue, and were called Dutchmen; for what saith the chronicle?
"Dutchmen lived in those days in Nieuve-Amsterdam."
Five years have elapsed since the events narrated in the last book transpired. In the interim, the seed then sown has had time to ripen to the germe; the germe to bud, and blossom, and bear fruit: youth has advanced to manhood; the characters then forming, formed; and the effects of the various causes then in operation fully wrought, and apparent to every eye. The scene, as well as the time of the story, is now changed, and, with its actors, transformed from the Old to the New World.
In the year 1695, William the Third appointed Richard, Earl of Bellamont, governor of the province of New-York. He did not, however, receive his commission until eighteen months afterward, nor arrive in his government until April, 1698. At this period the American coast, from New-England to the Capes of Virginia, were infested by a daring bucanier, who not only swept the seas with his fast-sailing vessel, but frequently run boldly, in open day, into the harbours of New-York, Boston, and Newport. To such an extent did his depradations reach, so fearful became the terrible name of "Kyd," that at length the fisherman feared to launch his boat, the mariner to spread his sail, and citizens trembled for their safety within the very centre of their fortified towns.
Such being the state of things, Lord Bellamont, on assuming the administration of colonial affairs, was especially instructed by the English government to make use of all the means placed at his command to remedy an evil so alarming, and fraught with consequences so fatal to the growth and prosperity of the colonies. For this purpose, immediately after his arrival at New-York, he had despatched the light-armed vessel which had brought him over from England in pursuit of the pirate.
She had been absent some time, and her arrival in the bay was hourly and anxiously looked for by the honest Dutch citizens. As the time for her return drew nigh, it was the custom of certain of these worthies, after the humble occupations of the day were over, to assemble at eventide about the stoope of frau Jost Stoll's tavern by the water side, and with their long pipes supported in their mouths with one hand, and a mug of double beer or mum held in the other, steadfastly to gaze down the bay, in expectation of the return of the crusier, the while gravely discussing their doubts of the bold bucanier's captivation by mortal ship; and by times relieving their discourse with dark tales of his marvellous and bloody exploits on the high seas.
Before entering further upon this division of the story, it perhaps may be necessary, for the proper understanding of it, to describe New-York as it was at this period. On the north side of the present Wall-street there extended from East River, then called Salt River, to the North River, a palisade ten feet high, constructed of piles firmly driven into the earth, strengthened and sustained by crosspieces of timber. The interstices were filled with earth and stone, and it was in every part ball-proof. South of this palisade lay all that then was New-York. Beyond were forests, and a vast tract called "King's Farms," now embraced between Canal and Liberty streets. This wall was perforated midway between the two rivers by a gateway, through which passed the road to Albany: this avenue is now called Broadway. At the eastern extremity of the wall, at the foot of Wall-street, and facing the water, was a half-moon fort, called a Rondeel: another was at Coenties-slip, or "Countess-slip," so called in honour of the fair Lady of Bellamont; and a third, equidistant from it, on the site of what is now the corner of State-street and the Battery. From Broadway, west, there was a sloping shore to the beach, there being neither wharf nor landing on this side of the town; and on the south, the tides came up nearly to the iron gate of the Battery that at present opens into Broadway—the site of the present "Marine Park" being at low tide a sandy beach strewn with vast fragments of rock, and called "The Ledge," where fishermen spread their nets and dried their fish.