A Grateful People

           Onthe20thofAugust,1672,thecityoftheHague,alwayssolively,soneat,andsotrimthatonemightbelieveeverydaytobeSunday,withitsshadypark,withitstalltrees,spreadingoveritsGothichouses,withitscanalslikelargemirrors,inwhichitssteeplesanditsalmostEasterncupolasarereflected,—thecityoftheHague,thecapitaloftheSevenUnitedProvinces,wasswellinginallitsarterieswithablackandredstreamofhurried,panting,andrestlesscitizens,who,withtheirknivesintheirgirdles,musketsontheirshoulders,orsticksintheirhands,werepushingontotheBuytenhof,aterribleprison,thegratedwindowsofwhicharestillshown,where,onthechargeofattemptedmurderpreferredagainsthimbythesurgeonTyckelaer,CorneliusdeWitt,thebrotheroftheGrandPensionaryofHollandwasconfined.

           Ifthehistoryofthattime,andespeciallythatoftheyearinthemiddleofwhichournarrativecommences,werenotindissolublyconnectedwiththetwonamesjustmentioned,thefewexplanatorypageswhichweareabouttoaddmightappearquitesupererogatory;butwewill,fromtheveryfirst,apprisethereader—ouroldfriend,towhomwearewontonthefirstpagetopromiseamusement,andwithwhomwealwaystrytokeepourwordaswellasisinourpower—thatthisexplanationisasindispensabletotherightunderstandingofourstoryastothatofthegreateventitselfonwhichitisbased.