ON BROAD WAY
IT was indeed a brave sight to see the people of
quality walking on Broad Way, or strolling to and fro
upon the Bowling Green, of a summer evening, and
although I so disliked the man, I must confess that
Director Stuyvesant and his family went far toward
adding to the fine array.
 The ladies dressed exceeding gay in high-colored
gowns of silk, satin, or some other such stuff, open up
and down in front of the skirt that their petticoats,
ornamented with fine needlework, miglit be seen.
Their hose were of bright colors, and the low shoes,
with very high heels, had bows of ribbon, or buckles of
silver, even of gold, which added much to the looks of
the wearer. It was
the silken hoods
which I disliked, for
those ladies curled or
frowzled their hair
in a most bewitching
covering it with powder, and the hood
concealed far too
much of it.
To see the rings
set with precious stones on
their fingers; the lockets, or
toys, of gold hanging over the stiff fronts of their waists,
and, on Sundays, the Bibles and psalm books richly
decked with gold and hanging by golden chains to their
waists, one would hardly believe that we were living in
such a wild land, with savages on every hand, who might
at any moment be at our throats.
 Our gentlemen did not allow the ladies all the
bravery of attire, as you shall hear when I tell you how
Director Stuyvesant was dressed when, standing half-
hidden behind the whipping-post one evening, I saw
him parading with his wife and sister, showing by
the way he stumped along with his head high,
that he believed himself the greatest man this side
He wore a long coat of blue velvet on which were
silver buttons, and the huge flaps of the pockets were
trimmed with silver lace. His waistcoat, so long that
the front came nearly to his knees, was of buff silk
embroidered with silver threads, and fastened by
buttons of gold in which were set jewels of different
colors. His breeches of velvet were of a deeper hue
than the coat, while the low shoe had on it a silver
buckle so large that the wonder of it was how he could
move his foot.
He wore on his head a soft black hat, whose wide
brim was caught up on one side with a gay knot of
blue ribbon that fell down athwart his big, white wig.
From the knot on his hat to below the black silk hose,
he was, when viewed on one side, a very gallant
gentleman; but turn hiin about so that his wooden stump
with its heavy bands of silver might be seen, and one
could not but remember the battle at St. Martins,
where he left his leg during a desperate fight.