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Updated: June 3, 2025
We hope and doubt not the Lord will visit that house in grace, and even gives us some assurances in what we have seen. Fort Christina stood on a part of the present site of Wilmington, Delaware. Stuyvesant's main battery was erected behind the fort, on the land or north side of it, but he also had works on the opposite or south side of Christina Creek.
Brent in his bewilderment had blurted out his wife's words in the hearing of the provost-marshal's people late the night before, and he and his household were yet to be called, and when called would have to say that though they passed and possibly repassed through the salon between the moment of Stuyvesant's departure and that of their going out to dinner, not one of their number noticed even so bright and gleaming an object as Maidie's revolver.
"Long Island is gone and lost;" the capital "can not hold out long," was the last dispatch to the "Lord Majors" of New Netherlands, which its director sent off that night "in silence through hell Gate." Observing Stuyvesant's reluctance to surrender, Nicolls directed Captain Hyde, who commanded the squadron, to reduce the fort.
They also urged that, in conformity with Governor Stuyvesant's request, an act should be passed under the great seal, confirming their original charter; and that letters might be sent to the revolted towns on Long Island, requiring them, under the severest penalties, to return to their allegiance.
Carl was not long in concluding that he had been robbed by his roommate. It was hard to believe that a Stuyvesant a representative of one of the old Dutch families of New Amsterdam should have stooped to such a discreditable act. Carl was sharp enough, however, to doubt the genuineness of Mr. Stuyvesant's claims to aristocratic lineage.
Don't talk to me of Peter Stuyvesant's walking puff puff puff puff." Here the redoubtable Ramm contracted his brow, clasped up his mouth, till it wrinkled at each corner, and redoubled his smoking with such vehemence, that the cloudly volumes soon wreathed round his head, as the smoke envelopes the awful summit of Mount Etna. A general silence followed the sudden rebuke of this very rich man.
Stuyvesant had been, before her marriage, Judith Bayard, the daughter of a Paris divine. Mrs. Bayard, the sister of Peter Stuyvesant, had married Mrs. Stuyvesant's brother, and when left a widow with three infant sons she followed her brother when he became Governor of New Netherland.
Stuyvesant's room was on the ground-floor in one of the outlying cottages, and its Venetian blinds opened on the broad and breezy veranda. It was far more quiet and retired than apartments in the main building, the rooms overhead being vacant and the occupants of that which adjoined his having left for San Francisco within a day or two of his coming.
He must have walked beneath the wall of the weak little fort at the water's edge, passed Governor Stuyvesant's new home that was called Whitehall, and that was to pass away, leaving its name to the road leading to it, which the road was still to bear more than two hundred and fifty years later.
"I shall spoil Mr. Stuyvesant's plans." After breakfast Carl prepared to go down to the falls. On the way he overtook Lord Bedford walking in the same direction, and, as it happened, without a companion. Carl quickened his pace, and as he caught up with him, he raised his hat, and said: "Lord Bedford, I believe." "Yes," answered the Englishman, inquiringly.
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