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THE



BOW OF ORANGE RIBBON
A Romance of New York



BY

AMELIA E. B^RR

Airraoa OP * JAN VBDDBR'S WIFE," M ^L DAUGHTER OP Ftes," ETC.



NEW YORK

DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY
PUBLISHERS



COPYRIGHT, 1886,
Br DODD, MEAD & COMPANY,



g permission,

THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO THE

DollanD Society of flew Eotfu *



CONTENTS.



CHAPTER PAGE

I. THE VAN HEEMSKIBKS .... 1

II. LOVE'S HOUR 12

III. ORANJEBOVEN ...... 25

IV. JOY IN THE HOUSE 41

V. THE BEGINNING OF STRIFE 54

VI. AT THE SWORD'S POINT .... 71

VII. AT "THE KING'S ARMS" .... 84

VIII. " THE SILVER LINK, THE SILKEN TIE . . loa

IX. KATHERINE'S DECISION . . . .126

X. POPULAR OPINION 144

XI. AT HYDE MANOR, AND BRAM AND MIRIAM . 161
XII. LONDON LIFE 178

XIII. THE TURN OF THE TIDE . . . .193

XIV. THE Bow OF ORANGE EIBBON . . . 203
XV. TURNING WESTWARD 214

XVL FOR FREEDOM'S SAKE 232,

Til



THE Bow OF ORANGE RIBBON-.

A ROMANCE OF NEW YORK.



CHAPTEE I.

THE VAN HEEMSKIRKS.

" The tender grace of a day that is dead.'*
" Love, that old song, of which the world is never weary."

IT was one of those beautiful, lengthening days,
when May was pressing back with both hands the
shades of the morning and the evening; May in
New York one hundred and twenty-one years ago,
and yet the May of A. D. 1886, the same clear air
and wind, the same rarefied freshness, full of faint,
passing aromas from the wet earth and the salt sea
and the blossoming gardens. For on the shore of
the East River the gardens still sloped down, even
to below Peck slip ; and behind old Trinity the apple-
trees blossomed like bridal nosegays, the pear-trees
rose in immaculate pyramids, and here and there
cows were coming up heavily to the scattered
houses; the lazy, intermitting tinkle of their bells
giving a pleasant notice of their approach to the
waiting milking-women.

In the city the business of the day was over ; but at
the open doors of many of the shops, little groups of
apprentices in leather aprons were talking, and on
the broad steps of the City Hall a number of grave-
looking men were slowly separating after a very sat-
isfactory civic session. They had been discussing
the marvelous increase of the export trade of New
York ; and some vision of their city's future great-
ness may have appeared to them, for they held them-



2 THE BOW OF ORANGE RIBBON.

selves with the lofty and confident air of wealthy
merchants and " members of his Majesty's Council
for the Province of New York."

They were all noticeable men, but Joris Tan
Heemskirk specially so. His bulk was so great that
it seemed as if he must have been built up : it was
too much to expect that he had ever been a baby.
He had a fair, ruddy face, and large, firm eyes, and
a mouth that was at once strong and sweet. And he
was also very handsomely dressed. The long, stiff
skirts of his dark-blue coat were lined with satin, his
breeches were of black velvet, his ruffles edged with
Flemish lace, his shoes clasped with silver buckles,
his cocked-hat made of the finest beaver.

With his head a little forward, and his right arm
across his back, he walked slowly up Wall Street
into Broadway, and then took a northwesterly direc-
tion toward the river-bank. His home was on the
outskirts of the city, but not far away ; and his face
lightened as he approached it. It was a handsome
house, built of yellow bricks, two stories high, with
windows in the roof, and gables sending up sharp
points skyward. There were weather-cocks on the
gables, and little round holes below the weather-
cocks, and small iron cranes below the holes, and
little windows below the cranes, all perfectly use-
less, but also perfectly picturesque and perfectly
Dutch. The rooms were large and airy, and the
garden sloped down to the river-side. It had paths
bordered by clipped box, and shaded by holly and
yew trees cut in fantastic shapes.

In the spring this garden was a wonder of tulips
and hyacinths and lilacs, of sweet daffodils and
white lilies. In the summer it was ruddy with roses,
and blazing with verbenas, and gay with the labur-
num's gold cascade. Then the musk carnations and
the pale slashed pinks exhaled a fragrance that
made the heart dream idyls. In the autumn there
was the warm, sweet smell of peaches and pears and
apples. There were morning-glories in riotous pro-
fusion, tall hollyhocks, and wonderful dahlias. In
winter it still had charms, the white snow, and the



THE BOW OF ORANGE RIBBON. 3

green box and cedar and holly, and the sharp de-
scent of its frozen paths to the frozen river. Coun-
cillor Van Heemskirk's father had built the house
and planted the garden, and he had the Dutch rever-
ence fora good ancestry. Often he sent his thoughts
backward to remember how he walked by his father's
side, or leaned against his mother's chair, as they
told him the tragic tales of the old Barneveldt and
the hapless De Witts; or how his young heart glowed
to their memories of the dear fatherland, and the
proud march of the Batavian republic.

But this night the mournful glamour of the past
caught a fresh glory from the dawn of a grander day
forespoken. " More than three hundred vessels may
leave the port of New York this same year," he
thought. " It is the truth ; every man of standing
says so. Good-evening, Mr. Justice. Good-even-
ing, neighbors; " and he stood a minute, with his
hands on his garden-gate, to bow to Justice Van
Gaasbeeck and to Peter Sluyter, who, with their
wives, were going to spend an hour or two at Chris-
topher Laer's garden. There the women would
have chocolate and hot waffles, and discuss the new
camblets and shoes just arrived from England, and
to be bought at Jacob Kip's store; and the men
would have a pipe of Virginia and a glass of hot
Hollands, and fight over again the quarrel pending
between the governor and the Assembly.

"Men can bear all things but good days," said
Peter Sluyter, when they had gone a dozen yards in
silence: "since Van Heemskirk has a seat in the
council-room, it is a long way to his hat."

" Come, now, he was very civil, Sluyter. He bows
like a man not used to make a low bow, that is all."

"Well, well! with time, every one gets into his
right -place. In the City Hall, I may yet put my
chair beside his, Van Gaasbeeck."

"So say I, Sluyter; and, for the present, it is all
well as it is."

This little envious fret of his neighbor lost itself
outside Joris Van Heemskirk's home. Within it,
all was love and content. He quickly divested him-



4 THE BOW OF ORANGE RIBBON.

self of his fine coat and ruffles, and in a long scar-
let vest, and a little skull-cap of orange silk, sat
down to smoke. He had talked a good deal in the
City Hall, and he was chewing the cud of his wis-
dom over again. Madam Van Heemskirk under-
stood that, and she let the good man reconsider
himself in peace. Besides, this was her busy hour.
She was giving out the food for the morning's
breakfast, and locking up the cupboards, and list-
ening to complaints from the kitchen, aad making
a plaster for black Tom's bealing finger. In some
measure, she prepared all day for this hour, and
yet there was always something unforeseen to be
done in it.

She was a little woman, with clear-cut features,
and brown hair drawn backward under a cap of lace
very stiffly starched. Her tight-fitting dress of blue
taffeta was open in front, and looped up behind in
order to show an elaborately quilted petticoat of
light blue camblet. Her white wool stockings were
clocked with blue, her high-heeled shoes cut very
low, and clasped with small silver buckles. From
her trim cap to her trig shoes, she was a pleasant"
and comfortable picture of a happy, domestic
woman ; smiling, peaceful, and easy to live with.

When the last duty was finished, she let her bunch
of keys fall with a' satisfactory " all done " jingle,
that made her Joris look at her with- -a smile. " That
is so." she said in answer to it. " A woman is glad
when she gets all under lock and key for a few hours.
Servants are not made without fingers; and, I can
tell thee, all the thieves are not yet hung."

" That needs no proving, Lysbet. But where,
then, is Joanna and the little one ? And Bram should
be home ere this. He has staid out late more than
once lately, and it vexes me. Thou art his mother,
speak to him."

" Bram is good : do not make his bridle too short.
Katherine troubles me more than Bram. She is
quiet and thinks much; and when I say, 'What art
thou thinking of?' she answers always, 'Nothing,
mother.' That is not right. When "a girl says,



THE BOW OF ORANGE RIBBON. 5

'Nothing, mother,' there is something perhaps, in-
deed, somebody on her mind."

" Katherine is nothing but a child. Who would
talk love to a girl who has not yet taken her first
communion ? What you think is nonsense, Lys-
bet ; " but he looked annoyed, and the comfort of his
pipe was gone. He put it down, and walked to a
side-door, where he stood a little while, watching
the road with a fretful anxiety.

" Why don't the children come, then ? It is nearly
dark, and the dew falls ; and the river mist I like not
for them."

" For my part, I am not uneasy, Joris. They were
to drink a dish of tea with Madam Semple, and Bram
promised to go for them. And, see, they are com-
ing; but Bram is not with them, only the elder.
Now, what can be the matter? "

" For every thing, there are more reasons than
one : if there is a bad reason, Elder Semple will be
sure to croak about it. I. could wish that just now
he had not come."

" But then he is here, and the welcome must be
given to a caller on the threshold. You know that,
Joris."

" I will not break a good custom."

Elder Alexander Semple was a great man in his
sphere. He had a reputation both for riches and
godliness, and was scarcely more respected in the
market-place than he was in the Middle Kirk. And
there was an old tie between the Semples and the
Van Heemskirks, a tie going back to the days when
the Scotch Covenanters and the Netherland Confes-
sors clasped hands as brothers in their "churches
under the cross." Then one of the Semples had fled
for life from Scotland to Holland, and been sheltered
in the house of a Van Heemskirk; and from gener-
ation to generation the friendship had been contin-
ued. So there was much real kindness and very
little ceremony between the families ; and the elder
met his friend Joris with a grumble about having to
act as " convoy " for two lasses, when the river mist
made the duty so unpleasant.



6 THE BOW OF ORANGE RIBBON.

" Not to say dangerous," he added, with a forced
cough. " I hae my plaid and my bonnet on ; but a
coat o' mail couldna stand mists, that are a vera
shadow o' death to an auld man, wi' a sair shortness
o' the breath."

"Sit down, elder, near the fire. A glass of hot
Hollands will take the chill from you."

" You are mair than kind, gudewife ; and I'll no
say but what a sma' glass is needfu', what wi' the
late hour, and the thick mist "

" Come, come, elder. Mists in every country you
will find, until you reach the New Jerusalem."

" Vera true, but there's a difference in mists. Noo,
a Scotch mist isna at all unhealthy. When I was a
laddie, I hae been out in them for a week thegither,
ay, and felt the better o' them." He had taken off
his plaid and bonnet as he spoke ; and he drew the
chair set for him in front of the blazing logs, and
stretched out his thin legs to the comforting heat.

In the mean time, the girls had gone up-stairs
together ; and their footsteps and voices, and Kath-
erine's rippling laugh, could be heard distinctly
through the open doors. Then madam called, " Jo-
anna!" and the girl came down at once. She was
tying on her white apron as she entered the room ;
and, at a word from her mother, she began to take
from the cupboards various Dutch dainties, and
East Indian jars of fruits and sweetmeats, and a
case of crystal bottles, and some fine lemons. She
was a fair, rosy girl, with a kind, cheerful face, a
pleasant voice, and a smile that was at once inno-
cent and bright. Her fine light hair was rolled high
and backward; and no one could have imagined a
dress more suitable to her than the trig dark bodice,
the quilted skirt, and the white apron she wore.

Her father and mother watched her with a loving
satisfaction ; and though Elder Semple was discours-
ing on that memorable dispute between the Caetus
and Gpnferentie parties, which had resulted in the
establishment of an independent Dutch church in
America, he was quite sensible of Joanna's presence,
and of what she was doing.



THE BOW OF ORANGE RIBBON. 7

"I was aye for the ordaining o' American minis-
ters in America," he said, as he touched the finger-
tips of his left hand with those of his right; and
then in an aside full of personal interest, " Joanna,
my dearie, I'll hae a Holland bloater and nae other
thing. And I was a proud man when I got the
invite to be secretary to the first meeting o' the new
Caetus. Maybe it is praising green barley to say
just yet that it was a wise departure; but I think
sae, I think sae."

At this point, Katherine Van Heemskirk came
into the room; and the elder slightly moved his
chair, and said, " Come awa', my bonnie lassie, and
let us hae a look at you." And Katherine laugh-
ingly pushed a stool toward the fire, and sat down
between the two men on the hearthstone. She was
the daintiest little Dutch maiden that ever latched a
shoe, very diminutive, with a complexion like a
sea-shell, great blue eyes, and such a quantity of
pale yellow hair, that it made light of its ribbon
snood, and rippled over her brow and slender white
neck in bewildering curls. She dearly loved fine
clothes ; and she had not removed her visiting dress
of Indian silk, nor her necklace of amber beads.
And in her hands she held a great mass of lilies of
the valley, which she caressed almost as if they
were living things.

" Father," she said, nestling close to his side,
" look at the lilies. How straight they are ! How
strong! Oh, the white bells full of sweet scent! In
them put your face, father. They smell tof the
spring." Her fingers could scarcely hold the bunch
she had gathered ; and she buried her lovely face in
them, and then lifted it, with a charming look of
delight, and the cries of " Oh, oh, how delicious! "

Long before supper was over, Madam Van Heems-
kirk had discovered that this night Elder Semple
had a special reason for his call. His talk of Mennon
and the Anabaptists and the objectionable Luther-
ans, she perceived, was all surface talk ; and when
the meal was finished, and the girls gone to their
room, she was not astonished to hear him say,



8 THE BOW OF ORANGE RIBBON.

" Joris, let us light another pipe. I hae something
to speak anent. Sit still, gudewife, we shall want
your word on the matter."

" On what matter, elder? "

" Anent a marriage between my son Neil and your
daughter Katherine."

The words fell with a sharp distinctness, not un-
kindly, but as if they were more than common
words. They were followed by a marked silence, a
silence which in no way disturbed Semple. He knew
his friends well, and therefore he expected it. He
puffed his pipe slowly, and glanced at Joris and
Lysbet Van Heemskirk. The father's face had not
moved a muscle ; the mother's was like a handsome
closed book. She went on with her knitting, and
only showed that she had heard the proposal by a
small pretence of finding it necessary to count the
stitches in the heel she was turning. Still, there
had been some faint, evanescent flicker on her face,
some droop or lift of the eyelids, which Joris under-
stood; for, after a glance at her, he said slowly,
" For Katherine the marriage would be good, and
Lysbet and I would like it. However, we will think
a little about it; there is time, and to spare. One
should not run on a new road. The first step is
what I like to be sure of; as you know, elder, to the
second step it often binds you. Say what you think,
Lysbet."

" Neil is to my mind, when the time comes. But
yet the child knows not perfectly her Heidelberg.
And there is more : she must learn to help her
mother about the house before she can manage a
house of her own. So in time, I say, it would be a
good thing. We have been long good friends/'

" We hae been friends for four generations, and
we may safely tie the knot tighter now. There are
wise folk that say the Dutch and the Lowland
Scotch are of the same stock, and a vera gude stock
it is, the women o' baith being fair as lilies and
thrifty as bees, and the men just a wonder p' ever
thing wise and weel-spoken o'. Forbye, baith o' us
Scotch and Dutch are strict Protestors. The Lady



THE BOW OF ORANGE RIBBON. 9

o' Home never threw dust in our een, and neither o*
us would put our noses to the ground for either
powers spiritual or powers temporal. When I think
o' our John Knox "-

" First came Erasmus, elder."

" Surely. Well, well, it was about wedding and
housekeeping I came to speak, and we'll hae it oot.
The land between this place and my place, on the
river-side, is your land, Joris. Give it to Katherine,
and I will build the young things a house; and the
furnishing and plenishing we'll share between us."

" There is more to a wedding than house and land,
elder."

" Vera true, madam. There's the income to meet
the outgo. Neil has a good practice now, and is like
to have better. They'll be comfortable and respect-
able, madam ; but I think well o' you for speering
after the daily bread."

" Well, look now, it was not the bread-making I
was thinking about. It was the love-making. A
young girl should be wooed before she is married.
You know how it is ; and Katherine, the little one,
she thinks not of such a thing as love and marriage. ' r

" Wha kens what thoughts are under curly locks
at seventeen ? You'll hae noticed, madam, that
Katherine has come mair often than ordinar' to
Semple House lately ? "

" That is so. It was because of Col. Gordon's wife,
who likes Katherine. She is teaching her a new
stitch in her crewel- work."

"Hum m m! Mistress Gordon has likewise a
nephew, a vera handsome lad. I hae seen that, he
takes a deal o' interest in the crewel-stitch likewise.
And Neil has seen it too, for Neil has set his heart
on Katherine, and this afternoon there was a look
passed between the young men I dinna like. We'll
be haeing a challenge, and twa fools playing at
murder, next."

"I am glad you spoke, elder. Thank you. I'll
turn your words over in my heart " But Van
Heemskirk was under a certain constraint : he was
beginning to understand the situation, to see ia



10 THE BOW OF ORANGE RIBBON.

what danger his darling might be. He was appar-
ently calm ; but an angry fire was gathering in his
eyes, and stern lines settling about the lower part of
his face.

" You ken," answered Semple, who felt a trifle un-
easy in the sudden constraint, "I hae little skill in
the ordering o' girl bairns. The Almighty thought
them "beyond my guiding, and I must say they are a
great charge, a great charge ; and, wi' all my in-
firmities and simplicity, anent women, one that
would hae been mair than I could hae kept. But I
hae brought up my lads in a vera creditable way.
They know how to manage their business, and they
hae the true religion. I am sure Neil would make a
good husband, and I would be glad to hae him set-
tled near by. My three eldest lads hae gone far off,
Joris, as you ken."

" I remember. Two went to the Virginia Col-
ony "

" To Norfolk, tobacco brokers, and making
money. My son Alexander a wise lad went to
Boston, and is in the African trade. I may say that
they are all honest, pious men, without wishing to
be martyrs for honesty and piety, which, indeed, in
these days is mercifully not called for. As for Neil,
he's our last bairn ; and his mother and I would fain
keep him near us. Katherine would be a welcome
daughter to our auld age, and weel loved, and much
made o' ; and I hope baith Madam Van Heemskirk
and yoursel' will think with us."

" We have said we would like the marriage. It is
the truth. But, look now, Katherine shall not come
any more to your house at this time, not while
English soldiers come and go there ; for I will not
have her speak to one : they are no good for us."

"That is right for you, but not for me. My wife
was a Gordon, and we couldn't but offer our house
to a cousin in a strange country. And you'll find
few better men than Col. Nigel Gordon ; as for his
wife, she's a fine English leddy, and I hae little
knowledge anent such women. But a Scot canna
kithe a kindness : if I gie Col. Gordon a share o' my



THE BOW OF ORANGE RIBBON. 11

house, I must e'en show a sort o' hospitality to his
friends and visitors. And the colonel's wife is much
thought o', in the regiment and oot o' it. She has a
sight o' good company, young officers and bonnie
leddies, and some o' the vera best o' our ain peo-
ple."

" There it is. I want not my daughters to learn
new ways. There are the Van Voorts : they began
to dine and dance at the governor's house, and then
they went to the English Church."

"They were Lutherans to begin wi', Jons."

"My Lysbet is the finest lady in the whole land:
let her daughters walk in her steps. That is what I
want. But Neil can come here : I will make him
welcome, and a good girl is to be courted on her
father's hearth. Now, there is enough said, and also
there is some one coming."

"It will be Neil andBram;" and, as the words
were spoken, the young men entered.

" Again you are late, Bram ; " and the father
looked curiously in his son's face. It was like look-
ing back upon his own youth ; for Bram Van Heems-
kirk had all the physical traits of his father, his
great size, his commanding presence and winning
address, his large eyes, his deep, sonorous voice and
slow speech. He was well dressed in light-colored
broadcloth ; but Neil Semple wore a coat and breeches
of black velvet, with a long satin vest, and fine
small ruffles. He was tall and swarthy, and had a
pointed, rather sombre face. Without speaking
much in the way of conversation, he left an im-
pression always of intellectual adroitness, a young
man of whom people expected a successful career.

"With the advent of Bram and Neil, the consult-
ation ended. The elder, grumbling at the chill and
mist, wrapped himself in his plaid, and leaning on
his son's arm, cautiously picked his way home by
the light of a lantern. Bram drew his chair to the
hearth, and sat silently waiting for any question his
father might wish to ask. But Van Heemskirk was
not inclined to talk. He put aside his pipe, nodded
gravely to his son, and went thoughtfully up-stairs.



12 THE BOW OF ORANGE RIBBON.

At the closed door of his daughter's room, he stood
still a moment. There was a murmur of conver-
sation within it, and a ripple of quickly smothered
laughter. How well his soul could see the child,
with her white, small hands over her mouth, and
her bright hair scattered upon the white pillow !

" Ach mijn kind, mijn kind! Mijn liefste kind!"
he whispered. " God Almighty keep thee from sin
and sorrow 1 "



CHAPTEK II.

LOVE'S HOUR.

"To be a sweetness more desired than spring,
This is the flower of life."

" Deep in the sun-searched growths the dragon-fly
Hangs like a blue thread loosened from the sky:

So this winged hour is dropped to us from above.
Oh, clasp we to our hearts, for deathless dower,
This close-companioned, inarticulate hour

When twofold silence was the song of love ! "

JOEIS VAN HEEMSKIKK had not thought of prayer;
but, in his vague fear and apprehension, his soul
beat at his lips, and its natural language had been
that appeal at his daughter's closed door. For
Semple's words had been like a hand lifting the
curtain in a dark room: only a clouded and un-
certain light had been thrown, but in it even
familiar objects looked portentous. In these clays,
the tendency is to tone down and to assimilate, to
deprecate every thing positive and demonstrative.
But Joris lived when the great motives of humanity
stood out sharp and bold, and surrounded by a relig-
ious halo.

Many of his people had begun to associate with
the governing race, to sit at their banquets, and
even to worship in their church ; but Joris, in his



THE BOW OF ORANGE RIBBON. 13

heart, looked upon such " indifferents " as renegades


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