for some years after it had dropped its juvenile name of New Amsterdam
and adopted its present name; but not so suddenly could it change its
nature and Dutch ways. Dutch neatness and the Dutch tongue still reigned
supreme. Substantial wooden houses turned gable ends of black and yellow
Holland bricks to the front, until Pearl Street appeared like a
triumphal procession of chess-boards; while no mansion in that then
fashionable quarter could boast more big doors and small windows than
that of the worthy burgher Van Twinkle, and the little weathercock on
the roof was as giddy as any of its neighbors, and as undecided as to
which way the wind actually did blow.
An air of festivity pervaded this residence on a certain winter's day in
the early part of the eighteenth century; windows were thrown open, and
Gretel, the eldest daughter of the family, followed by black Sophy,
armed with brooms, mops, and pails, entered that _sanctum sanctorum_,
the best parlor, to scrub and scour with unwonted energy; for to-morrow
would be that greatest of Knickerbocker holidays, _Nieuw Jaar_, or New
Year, when every good Hollander would consider it his duty to call upon
his friends and neighbors, and the front door with its great brass
knocker would swing from morning till night to admit the well-wishers of
the season.
In the big kitchen also active preparations were going forward. A royal
fire blazed in the wide chimney, and the Vrouw Van Twinkle, in short
gown and petticoat, was cutting out and boiling those lightest and
richest of krullers for which she was famous among the good housewives
of the town: real Dutch krullers, brown as nuts, and crisp as pie-crust.
"Out of the way, youngsters!" cried the dame to a boy and girl lounging
near to watch the boiling, "or spattered will you be with the hog's fat.
Take thy sister, Jan, and off with her to the Flatten Barrack. She would
enjoy a good sledding this fine day, and that I know."
"Rather would I go to the skating on the Salt River," said Jan.
"But that you must not. It I forbid, for very unsafe is it now, thy
father did observe only this morning."
"Foolishness, though, was that, mother," argued Jan, "for last night
Tunis Vanderbeck from Breucklyn came over on the ice, and told me that
firm was it as any rock, and smooth as thy soft, pink cheek."
"Thou flatterer!" laughed his mother; "but not so canst thou pull the
wool over my eyes; so away with you both to the sledding, and here are
two stivers with which to buy New-Year cakes at Peter Clopper's
bake-house." And diving in the patchwork pocket hung at her side, Madam
Van Twinkle produced the coins, which sent the children off with smiling
faces to the hill at the end of Garden Street, stopping on the way to
invest in the sweet New-Year cakes, stamped with a crown and breeches.
Jan made short work of his; but Katrina had scarce begun to nibble her
fluted oval when she spied an aged man, with a long gray beard, begging
for charity.
"See, Jan," she cried, "the poor, miserable old beggar! How cold and
hungry he looks!"
"Then to work should he go."
"But it may be no work he has to do. Ach! the sight of him makes my
heart to ache, and help him will I all I can." So saying, the
kind-hearted girl darted to the mendicant's side and slipped her cake
into his hand.
"A thousand thanks, little lady!" exclaimed the man, fervently; "for I
am near to starving, or I would not be here; and you are the first who
has heeded me to-day."
He was evidently English; but Katrina cared not for that, and, carried
away by her feelings, added a guilder, given her at Christmas, to her
gift of the New-Year cake, thereby calling forth a shower of
benedictions, although the old fellow seemed strangely nervous
meanwhile, glancing in a frightened manner at each passer-by. As soon as
the little maid's back was turned he slunk into a dark alley and out of
sight.
"A silly noodle art thou, Katrina, thus to throw away thy presents,"
said Jan, as they hurried on. But his sister only shook her head, and
smiled as though quite satisfied, while her heart beat a happy roundelay
all the short December afternoon as she slid on her wooden sled and
frolicked with the little Dutch Vans and Vanders on the Flatten-Barrack
Hill.
Twilight was falling when the young Van Twinkles wended their way home,
to find their bread and buttermilk ready for them by the kitchen fire,
and their father and mother and Gretel gone to a supper of soft waffles
and chocolate and a New-Year's-Eve dance at the Van Corlear Bouwerie.
"The best parlor, does it look fine and gay, Sophy?" asked Katrina, as
she finished her evening meal.
"Dat it do," replied the old slave woman; "for waved am de sand on de
floor like white clouds, and de brass chair-nails shine jest like little
missy's eyes. 'Spect de ole mynheer and his vrouw come down and dance
dis night for sure."
"What mynheer, Sophy?" asked Jan.
"De great mynheer in de portrait--your gran'fader, ob course. Hab you
chillens neber heard how on New-Year Eve, when de clock strike twelve,
down come all de pictur' folkses to shake hands and wish each oder
'Happy New-Year,' and den, if nuffin disturb 'em, mebbe dey dance in de
firelight."
"Really, Sophy, do they?" asked the little girl.
"Yah, dey do. Master Jan may laugh if he please, but right am I. My ole
moeder hab so tole me, and wif her own eyes hab she seen de ghostes
dances."
"A rare sight it must be! I wish that I could see it," said Katrina; and
later, when she went in to inspect the parlor, she gazed up with
increased respect at her stolid-faced Holland ancestors.
"Much would I love to see them tread a minuet!" sighed Katrina again,
and even after her head was laid on her pillow the idea haunted her
dreams, until, as the tall clock in the hall struck eleven, she started
up wide-awake, with the feeling that something eventful was about to
happen.
"Almost spent is the old year!" she thought, "and soon down the picture
folk will come to greet the new. Oh, I must, I must them see!" and
although the household was by this time asleep, she crept out of bed,
slipped on her clothes, and stole noiselessly down-stairs.
"Still are they yet," she whispered, glancing up at the pictured faces.
"But near the hour draws, and hide I must, or they may not come down,
for Sophy says that spectators they do not love. Ah, there is just the
place!" and running to the linen chest she lifted the lid, and
clambering lightly in, nestled down among the lavender-scented sheets
and table-cloths.
"A very comfortable hiding-spot, truly!" exclaimed Katrina, as she
placed a book beneath the cover to hold it slightly open; and so cosey
did it prove that she grew a bit drowsy before the midnight bells chimed
the knell of another twelvemonth. Then indeed, however, she was on the
alert in an instant and peering eagerly out. Her corner was in shadow,
but the ruddy glow from the hickory logs revealed the portraits still
unmoved, and she was about to utter an exclamation of disappointment,
when she was startled to see a door leading to the rear of the house
suddenly swing open and the figure of a man carrying a lantern enter
with slow and stealthy tread. An old man, apparently, with gray hair and
beard, and a sack thrown across his shoulders. "'Tis the Old Year
himself!" thought the fanciful girl; but the next moment she almost
betrayed herself by a scream as she recognized the beggar to whom she
had given her New-Year cake that very afternoon.
Slowly the midnight marauder approached, and then, all at once, a
wonderful transformation took place. The bent form became straight, the
gray beard and hair were torn off, and a younger and not unhandsome man
stood before the little watcher's astonished gaze.
She was too dumfounded to do anything but tremble and stare, as the
intruder seated himself at the table and ate and drank, almost snatching
the viands in his eagerness. His appetite appeased, however, he seemed
to hesitate; but then, with a muttered, "Well, what must be must, and
here's for home and Emily!" he seized a silver bowl and dropped it into
his bag, following it up with the porringers and plates, that were the
very apple of the Dutch house-mother's eye.
Too frightened to speak, poor little Katrina watched these proceedings;
but when the thief laid hands on a certain old and beautifully engraved
flagon, she murmured: "The loving-cup! the dear loving-cup! Oh, my
father's heart 'twill break to lose that!"
"Plenty of the needful here!" chuckled the burglar; but a moment later
he had his surprise, for out of the shadows suddenly emerged a small,
slight figure, and a stern voice cried, "Stop!"
With a startled exclamation the man fell back, and then, as Katrina
exclaimed, "The loving-cup that is so old--ah, take not that!" he
dropped into a chair, ejaculating, "By St. George, 'tis the little lady
of the cake herself!"
"That is so," said Katrina.
The man reddened. "Believe me, miss," he said, "I did not know this was
your home, or naught would have tempted me here; and this is the first
time I have ever soiled my fingers with such work as this."
"Then why begin now?" asked Katrina.
"Because I was down on my luck, and there seemed no other way. Listen!
For two years I have served as a soldier in the British army, and no
more honest one ever entered the province. I did not mind hard work, but
my health gave out, and at last the rude fare and the homesickness I
could stand no longer, and three days ago I deserted from the English
fort down yonder. The officers are on my track, but, so far, disguised
as an old beggar, I have escaped detection beneath their very noses. If
caught I shall be flogged within an inch of my life, and, it may be,
shot. Just over the water my wife and a blue-eyed lass like you are
longing for my return, but, saving your guilder, I was penniless, and
so, for the first time, determined to take what was not my own."
"Poor man!" sighed Katrina, the tears starting.
"To-morrow night the _Golden Lion_ sails for England. Her crew, after
the New-Year festivities, will be dazed at least, so I can readily
conceal myself until the ship is out at sea. Then ho! for home and my
little Jeanie!"
"And as a bad, wicked robber will you go to her?" asked the girl.
"No; indeed no!" cried the man, emptying his sack. "You have saved me
from that, little lady, as well as from starvation to-day, for I would
not steal from you or yours. Give me but these krullers to eat while I
am a stowaway, and all the plate I will leave."
"Yes, that will I do," said Katrina, rejoiced, and she herself dropped
the crisp cakes into the man's bag. "Now at once go, and godspeed."
"But first you must promise to mention this meeting to no one until
after the _Golden Lion_ weighs anchor at seven o'clock on New-Year's
night."
"To my mother may I not?" asked Katrina.
"No, no, to nobody! Oh, remember my life is in your hands! Promise, I
beg."
His tone was so imploring the girl was touched.
"I like it not, but I promise," she said.
"Thank you. Farewell." And again disguised, the deserter departed, as he
came, by a back window.
Feeling as though in a dream, Katrina rearranged the disordered table,
and then, creeping up to bed, fell so sound asleep that she never heard
Jan when he awoke the household with his "Happy New-Years."
Gayly the sunbeams glittered on the black-and-yellow gables that 1st of
January, and fully as resplendent were the maids and matrons of New York
in their best muslins and brocades; while Katrina presented a very
quaint, attractive little vision when she came down in her taffeta gown
and embroidered stomacher, with her amber beads about her neck. Her face
was hardly in accord with her attire, however, when she found every one
demanding, "What has become of the krullers--the New-Year krullers?"
Madam Van Twinkle looked flushed and angry. "The beautiful cakes with
which I so much trouble took!" she cried. "Ach! a bad, wicked theft it
is, and a mystery unaccountable."
"Mebbe de great ole mynheer and his vrouw gobbled 'em up," put in Sophy.
"But what is worse," continued the dame, "in one big kruller, as a
surprise, I did hide a ring of gold sent to Gretel by her godmother in
Holland, and that too is whisked away."
At this Gretel also began to bewail the loss, and suggested that
perhaps little black Josie, Sophy's son, was the miscreant.
"If so it be, to the whipping-post shall he go!" cried the enraged
Dutchwoman, starting for the kitchen; but before she reached the door
Katrina exclaimed, "No, mother, no; Josie is not the one."
"Why, mine Katrina, what canst thou know of this?" asked Mynheer Van
Twinkle, in amazement.
"I know--I know who has taken the cakes," stammered the blushing girl;
"but tell I cannot now."
"Not tell!" gasped her mother. "Why and wherefore?"
"Because my promise I have given. But when the night comes, then shall
you know all."
"Foolishness is this, Katrina," cried the good housewife, who was fast
losing her temper as well as her cakes, "and at once I command you to
say who has my New-Year krullers."
"And my ring from Rotterdam," added Gretel.
"But that I cannot. A lie would it be. Oh, my vader, canst thou not me
trust until the nightfall?"
"Surely, sweetheart. There, good vrouw, say no more, but leave the
little one in peace. A promise thou wouldst not have her break."
"Some there be better broken than kept; but whom promised she?"
Katrina was silent, and now even her father looked grave. "Speak, _mijn
kind_; whom didst thou promise?"
"I cannot tell."
"See you, Jacobus, 'tis stubborn she is, and wrong it looks. But list,
Katrina; you shall speak this minute, or else to your chamber go, and
there spend your New-Year's Day."
At this mynheer puffed grimly at his pipe, and Gretel would have
remonstrated, but without a word Katrina turned and left the parlor.
Ascending to her little attic-room, she removed her holiday finery, and
sat sadly down to work on her Flemish lace, trying to console herself by
repeating: "Right am I, and I know I am right. A promise once given
must not broken be," while the New-Year callers came and went, and the
sound of merry greetings floated up from below.
So it was scarce a happy New-Year, and the little weathercock must have
pointed very much to the east if he considered the way the wind blew
within-doors, for even Jan turned fractious, and declared, "There was no
fun in calling on a parcel of old _vrouws_," and he should go to the
turkey-shooting at Beekman's Swamp instead. But this his mother forbade.
"Shoot you will not this day," she said, "for at fourteen, like a
gentleman and a good Hollander should you behave. So start at once, and
my greetings bear to the Van Pelts and Vander Voorts and Mistress
Hogeboom," while his father carried him off with him to call on the
dominie's wife.
This visit over, however, they parted company, and Jan lingered long in
the market-place to see the darkies dance to the rude music of horns and
tom-toms. Here he encountered two of his chums, Nicholas Van Ripper and
Rem Hochstrasser, carrying guns on their shoulders.
"Thee, Jan? Good!" they cried. "Now come with us to the turkey-shooting.
A prize thou art sure to win."
"But I started the New-Year visits to make!" said Jan.
"And paid them in the market-place!" laughed Nicholas. "Thou art a sly
one, Jan! But great sport is there at the Swamp to-day; much better than
the chatter of the girls and a headache to-morrow."
"So think I, Nick; but I have on my _kirch_ clothes;" and Jan glanced
down at his best galligaskins and his coat with its silver buttons.
"Not a bit will it hurt them; so come along." And thus urged, Jan joined
his friends, and was soon at Beekman's Swamp, where a bevy of youths
were squandering their stivers in the exciting sport of firing at live
turkeys.
Nick and Rem did well, and each bore off a plump fowl, but luck seemed
against Jan, who could not succeed in even ruffling a feather; while at
last he had the misfortune to slip and get a rough tumble, besides
soiling his breeches and tearing a rent in the skirt of his fine
broadcloth coat.
"Ha! ha! What will Madam Van Twinkle say to that?" laughed his
unsympathetic companions, when they saw Jan stamping round, his little
queue of hair, tied with an eel-skin, fairly standing out with rage.
"Whatever she says, 'twill be your fault, ye dough-nuts!" he shouted,
and would have indulged in some rather forcible Dutch epithets had not
his cousin Tunis Vanderbeck come up at the moment, saying, "Mind it not,
Jan, but with me come to Breucklyn to skate."
"Yah; better will that be than facing the mother in this plight," said
Jan; and he was skating across the Salt River before he remembered that
he had been positively forbidden to venture there.
"Sure art thou that the ice is strong, Tunis?" he asked.
"Not so strong as it was. The thaw has weakened it some, but 'twill hold
to-night, if--" But at that instant an ominous cracking sounded beneath
their feet, and Tunis had just time to glide to a firmer spot before a
scream rang through the air, and he looked back to see the dark surging
water in an opening in the ice, and Jan's head disappearing beneath.
While, in the twilight, Katrina sat by her window, thinking of blue-eyed
English Jeanie, she was startled by a voice on the shed roof without
calling, "Let me in, Katrina--let me in;" and on opening the casement a
very wet and bedraggled boy tumbled at her feet, sputtering out, "Run
for dry clothes and a hot drink, my Trina, for nearly drowned am I, and
frozen as well."
The girl hastened to obey, and not until her brother was snug and warm
in her feather-bed did she ask, "Whatever has happened to thee, Jan?"
"Why, on the river I was, and the ice it broke, and in I fell. But for
an old cove who risked his life to save me, in Davy Jones's locker would
I be this minute; for never a hand did Tunis Vanderbeck stir to help
me, and unfriends will we be henceforth."
"And thy _kirch_ suit is ruined. Does the mother know it?"
"No; for fear of her I came in by the roof, but I met the father
outside, and angry enough he is because I went to the shooting and on
the river. He says that on bread and water shall I live for a week, and
to the Philadelphia Fair shall I not go;" and a sob rose in the boy's
throat. "But what is queerest, Katrina, the old chap who pulled me out
seemed to know me, and gave me this for you," and Jan produced a moist,
soggy package, which, on being undone, revealed a single broken kruller,
in the centre of which, however, gleamed a heavy gold ring.
"Good! good! Oh, glad am I!" cried Katrina; and hastening to put on her
festival dress, when the clock chimed seven she went dancing down to the
parlor, and creeping to her mother's side, whispered, "Now, my moeder,
all will I tell thee."
In amazement the family listened to her story of the midnight visitor,
and when she ended by slipping the ring on Gretel's finger, saying, "No
common thief was he, for this he sent me by Jan, whom he has saved from
a grave in the Salt River," the Dutchwoman caught her to her heart,
sobbing, "Oh, my Katrina, forgive thy mother, for it was in my temper I
spoke this morning, and a true, brave girl hast thou been. To think that
but for thee our rare old silver would be on its way to England!" Gretel
too hugged her rapturously, and the tears were in Mynheer Van Twinkle's
eyes as he asked:
"How can I repay my daughter for saving the loving-cup of my ancestors,
and for her lonely day above?"
"By forgiving Jan, father, and letting him come to the New-Year supper.
Disobedient has he been, I know, but well punished is he, and he is full
of sorrow."
"Well, then, for thee, it shall be so."
So Jan was summoned down, and a truly festal evening was held within the
home circle, beneath the gaze of the old mynheer and his vrouw, who
beamed benignantly from their heavy frames.
The _Golden Lion_ sailed true to time, and never again was the deserter
heard of on this side of the Atlantic; but for long after Katrina was
pointed out as "the blue-eyed maid who saved the family plate and gave
away Vrouw Van Twinkle's New-Year krullers."
XIII
THE SIGN OF THE SERPENT
A Story of Louisiana in the Early Eighteenth Century
The two Vidals--the father Captain and second in command at Fort
Rosalie,[B] and the son Jean, who wore the stripes of a sub-lieutenant,
though his face had scarcely a sign of beard on it yet--paced the
parapet of the fort in absorbed talk. Below them rolled the brown flood
of the Mississippi, gilded into tawny gold by the setting sun. In the
splendor of that glow stood out in bold relief the galley which had
arrived from New Orleans that day. Young Jean, who had been absent in
the little Louisiana capital for two months, and had received during the
visit his commission from Governor Perier, had been a passenger, and was
now eagerly listening to the news of the fort.
[B] Fort Rosalie, during the early years of the eighteenth
century one of the advance-posts of the Louisiana colony, was
built on the bluff where now stands the beautiful city of
Natchez. This whole region for many miles up and down the river
and inland was the seat of the Natchez nation, originally a
Toltec race which had emigrated from Mexico shortly after the
Spanish conquest.
"It is almost word for word as I tell thee," said the senior. "'Twas a
month since that Monsieur le Commandant sent for Big Serpent to tell him
the Governor's wish, but not, as Monsieur Perier would have chosen to
make it, the beginning of negotiation. For all feel that it is not well
the Natchez should remain in power so near the fort. But Chopart's words
were like the lash of the slave-whip.
"'Does not my white brother know,' answered the Great Sun of the
Natchez, 'that my people have lived in the village of White Apple for
more years than there are hairs in the plaited scalp-lock which hangs
from the top of my head to my waist?'
"'Foolish savage!' said Chopart. 'What ties of friendship can there be
between our races? Enough for you to know that you must obey your
master's orders, as I obey mine.'
"'We have other lands; take them, but leave the village of White Apple
to the Natchez. There is our temple, there the bones of our forefathers
have slept since we came to the banks of the Father of Waters,' pleaded
Big Serpent.
"'Within the next moon comes the galley from the big village of the
French. If White Apple is not then delivered to my soldiers, and your
people gone, the great chief of the Natchez will be sent down the river,
bound hand and foot, to rot in prison. Go. I have spoken,' and Monsieur
le Commandant waved Big Serpent out of his presence."
"And do the Natchez submit? Will Big Serpent give up their beautiful
village? Mon Dieu! It's a shame! It might have been managed differently
hadst thou been made commandant instead of Chopart, _mon pere_."
"Tut! tut!" said the father. "Chopart may carry his load, and welcome.
'Twould have irked me much to have done the Governor's will, for, after
all, 'tis the sword, not the scabbard, which kills. Warning of treachery
and conspiracy has come from White Apple, for thou knowest the old
Princess had a French husband and loves his race. Yet her son, the
chief, would bleed out every French drop in his veins if he could. I
like not the signs, though only five days ago Big Serpent came to Fort
Rosalie, and when Monsieur le Commandant flung the report of foul play
in his teeth, the chief smiled like a baby in the face of its mother,
and answered: 'Let my brother believe what he sees. On the seventh day
hence my people will bring thee more than the tribute due for the time,
thou hast granted, and will then give up White Apple to the French.' Yet
Sergeant Beaujean, who has been at the village since, says there are no
signs of preparation for departure, and that warriors are pouring in
from all the outlying country. We shall know in two days more. In the
mean time, Chopart reviles at all advice to keep the garrison under
arms, with closed gates and loaded cannon. The insolent calls doubters
cowards and old women. My sword should answer that taunt," continued the
grizzled soldier, fiercely, "were it not for a bad example at this time.
Big Serpent, though young in years, is as old in guile as the most
ancient wiseacre of his tribe. So I fear to have thee go to visit Akbal
now, _mon fils_, for the chief's brother is sure to be deep in any
mischief brewing."
"Better reason, then," answered Jean, "to make the venture. Time flies
swiftly, and I, surer than another, could go safely and might find a
clew to hidden danger. Yet 'tis hard to break bread and play the spy."