Hyde's time was spent as a recruiting-officer. His old quarters, the
"King's Arms," were of course closed to him; but there was a famous
tavern on Water Street, shaded by a great horse-chestnut tree, and there
the patriots were always welcome. There, also, the news of all political
events was in some mysterious way sure to be first received. In company
with Willet, Sears, and McDougall, Hyde might be seen under the
chestnut-tree every day, enlisting men, or organizing the "Liberty
Regiment" then raising.
From the first, his valorous temper, his singleness of purpose, his
military skill in handling troops, and his fine appearance and manners,
had given him influence and authority. He soon, also, gained a wonderful
power over Bram; and even the temperate wisdom and fine patience of
Joris gradually kindled, until the man was at white heat all through.
Every day's events fanned the temper of the city, although it was soon
evident that the first fighting would be done in the vicinity of
Boston.
For, three weeks after that memorable April Sunday, Congress, in session
at Philadelphia, had recognized the men in camp there as a Continental
army, the nucleus of the troops that were to be raised for the defence
of the country, and had commissioned Colonel Washington as
commander-in-chief to direct their operations. Then every heart was in a
state of the greatest expectation and excitement. No one remembered at
that hour that the little army was without organization or discipline,
most of its officers incompetent to command, its troops altogether
unused to obey, and in the field without enlistment. Their few pieces of
cannon were old and of various sizes, and scarce any one understood
their service. There was no siege-train and no ordnance stores. There
was no military chest, and nothing worthy the name of a commissariat.
Yet every one was sure that some bold stroke would be struck, and the
war speedily terminated in victory and independence.
So New York was in the buoyant spirits of a young man rejoicing to run a
race. The armourers, the saddlers, and the smiths were busy day and
night; weapons were in every hand, the look of apprehended triumph on
every face. In June the Van Heemskirk troops were ready to leave for
Boston--nearly six hundred young men, full of pure purpose and brave
thoughts, and with all their illusions and enthusiasms undimmed.
The day before their departure, they escorted Van Heemskirk to his
house. Lysbet and Katherine saw them coming, and fell weeping on each
other's necks--tears that were both joyful and sorrowful, the expression
of mingled love and patriotism and grief. It would have been hard to
find a nobler-looking leader than Joris. Age had but added dignity to
his fine bulk. His large, fair face was serene and confident. And the
bright young lads who followed him looked like his sons, for most of
them strongly resembled him in person; and any one might have been sure,
even if the roll had not shown it, that they were Van Brunts and Van
Ripers and Van Rensselaers, Roosevelts, Westervelts, and Terhunes.