Again, in 1673, the parent nations over the water plunged into another terrible war, and New York, as in every former instance, suffered severely. The fort and the wall were strengthened and repaired, volunteer forces were drilled, commerce was restricted, and merchants were on the eve of bankruptcy. The summer was flitting away, when suddenly a Dutch fleet appeared in the harbor, and an order came for the immediate surrender of New York. The governor was absent, and the summons was followed so promptly by the landing of the Dutch forces that no defense was attempted. The citadel was vacated by the English garrison, and the three-colored ensign of the Dutch Republic rose to its old place on the flag-staff. New York became once more New Netherland, and the city was called New Orange, in honor of the Dutch prince. It was an absolute conquest, by an open enemy in time of war. Everything henceforward assumed a military air. Guards were stationed near Sandy Hook to watch for vessels; no person was allowed to cross the ferries without a pass; and whoever had not taken the oath of allegiance was expelled from the city. Hostilities being apprehended from New England, citizens were forbidden to harbor any stranger, or to hold any correspondence whatever with the people of Massachusetts and Connecticut. Sentinels were stationed along the wall, and no person was allowed to enter or depart from the city except through one or the other of the two city gates, on pain of death. The wall was now a consequential feature of the city. At sundown every night the gates were closed, and a strong watch kept over them until sunrise the next morning.
Meanwhile a series of remarkable events in Europe were shaping the destiny of New York. A treaty was concluded with the belligerent nations, which involved a mutual restoration of conquests. The Dutch governor, Colve, received instructions from Holland to yield the Province of New York to whomsoever the King of England should depute to receive it. Sir Edmund Andros was the dignitary thus delegated, and on Saturday, the 10th day of November, 1674, he landed near the Battery with much ceremony, and was graciously welcomed by the Dutch Commander.
The wall was not allowed to go at once into decay with the return of permanent peace. Eighteen years later, when a French invasion was threatened, two bastions were erected for the, defense of the wall, each a huge mass of earth and stone faced with sods. It was, during its whole history, esteemed a protection against the bears of the forests, as the locality has since been the haven of civilized bears. A curious and authentic incident of the year 1678 is handed along to us by the Rev. Charles Wolley (a Minister of the Church of England), who in visiting New York
