By Liz Soares
Take a wily, yet beautiful, Dutch she-merchant named Blandine van Couvering. Add her self-appointed bodyguard, a seven-foot tall African. Then bring in Edward Drummond, a British spy; a possibly psychotic Indian; a strange, rich family of brothers; the Latin-spouting peg-legged director general of New Amsterdam, Peter Stuyvestant; and, of course, the orphan master of the title. Finally, throw a flesh-eating monster into the mix. The result is a fascinating, harrowing historical thriller of the first order.
The founding of the Dutch colony of New Netherlands does not figure among the best-known episodes of American history, such as the landing of the Pilgrims, Paul Revere’s ride, or the Battle of Gettysburg. But the Dutch were definitely here--and they did run a thriving colony in the 17th century that included New Amsterdam, located on the lower tip of Manhattan, and a trading post at Beverwyck -- present-day Albany, N.Y.
Though New Amsterdam was home to Germans, English, Africans, Indians and both Sephardic and Ashkenazi Jews, the Dutch way of life ruled. This included greater freedoms for women than existed under British law, which enabled Blandine to run a flourishing trade in items manufactured from beaver pelts, which were so much in demand in Europe.
Blandine is an orphan, and so has a special affection for Aet Visser, the orphan master. Visser is a sly drunk who can be calculating, but who does seem to have the best interest of his charges in mind. His job is to watch over them, after a fashion, and place them as servants in the colonists’ homes, which was a better fate for them than living on the streets.
Trouble arrives when orphans begin disappearing. Slowly, evidence suggests that a witika--a legendary Native American monster--may be abroad.
The creature, the story goes, terrifies and then cannibalizes its victims. The demon is found in the culture of many Indian tribes, and is possibly best known as the “windigo.” But how can a mythical being steal and murder orphans? Both Indians and colonists believed that people could be seized with “witika fever,” turning them into living cannibals.
Though Blandine and Edward investigate the deaths, The Orphanmaster is not a traditonal mystery. In fact, one quibble is that the plot does not follow a direct trajectory--at times the reader loses sight of the central point of the book, which is the murders of the orphans.
But this is a minor point, as the reader does not have much time to stop and wonder why Blandine and Edward aren’t always on the case. After all, Edward is in the New World to track down regicides--the men responsible for the death of King Charles I. Aet Visser needs to keep track of his charges. Blandine has to ditch one suitor and then fall in love with Edward. Both have to flee New Amsterdam under a cloud of suspicion--she’s accused of being a witch, and he’s discovered to be a spy.
The multi-character point of view keeps the story humming and adds richness to the character development. When Edward travels alone to New Haven, for example, he experiences the vastness of the New World as only a newcomer could.
Zimmerman’s research is impeccable, and the tiny 17th century settlement comes to life in the pages of this book:
“As the Christmastide pageant proceeded, the great Stadt Huys meeting-hall became close, its air clogged with tobacco smoke and human exhalations. Three-legged stools had been arranged near the mammoth hearth, where a yule log the size of an ox smoldered.”
Soon, though, the colonists will be up and screaming. An apparition--the witika?--has been broadcast on the wall, a clever combination of glass slide and lantern.
The Orphanmaster is not for the fainthearted. Violent Indian raids, bizarre corporal punishments and, of course, cannibalism, figure in its pages. But, in the end, goodness prevails--sort of.
