Here  boats  were  waiting  to  receive  this  cargo  of  Dutch
defeat  and  convey  the  garrison  to  that  historic  vessel,
the  Gideon,  lying  off  in  the  stream  and  bound  for  Hol-
land the  next  fair  wind.*

*  Stuyvesant  soon  went  to  Holland  to  "  vindicate  his  conduct."
His  home,  though,  on  this  side  the  waters,  had  a  hold  on  his  heart
and  drew  him  back  to  his  farm,  or  "bouwerie,"  a  word  which
named  that  odd  city-way,  the  Bowery.  Who  thinks  of  green  fields
as  he  walks  it— that  it  once  led  to  Stuy  vesant's  farm  ?  There  in  a
courtly  sort  of  a  way  lived  the  rugged  old  ex-governor.  He  was
a  good  scholar,  his  Latin  name,  Petrus,  seeming  to  suggest  it.  Be-
hind the  sharp,  flashing  eyes  were  infirmities,  but  there  were  strong
virtues  also,  for  which  I  have  much  respect.  It  was,  therefore,
with  a  pilgrim's  interest  that  one  gray,  misty  morning  I  stood  before
a  tablet  in  the  wall  of  St.  Mark's  Church,  that  rises  where  once  was
the  green  and  pleasant  "bouwerie"  of  the  last  of  the  Dutch
governors,  and  I  copied  off  an  inscription  beginning,  "  In  this  vault
lies  buried  Petrus  Stuyvesant."  He  died  at  the  age  of  eighty.
