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The Indian War

THE INDIAN WAR It is known to all right-thinking men here that the Indians have lived as lambs among us until a few years ago, injuring no one, affording every assistance to our nation. . . . The Director hath, by various uncalled-for proceedings, from time to time so estranged them from us and embittered them against the Dutch nation that we do not believe anything will bring them back unless the Lord God, who bends all men's hearts to his will, propitiate them. — The Eight Men of New Amsterdam to the Amsterdam Chamber of the West India Company. 1644.

Eighteen languages were spoken among the four or five hundred people of different sects and nations at Fort Am sterdam. So, Father Jogues recorded, Governor Kieft had told him. Under the walls of the fort, he added, scarcely any one lived except 'mechanics who ply their trades,' but all the farmers and traders 'scattered here and there on the river above and below' resorted to the village to transact their business and their law affairs. The public records also bear witness to the presence of one or more individuals from almost a score of European lands. There were already living or tarrying on Manhattan Dutchmen and Flemings, Walloons and Frenchmen, Danes, Norwegians, and Swedes, with some Englishmen and an occasional Scotchman, Irish man, German, Pole, Bohemian, Portuguese, and Italian. No Spaniards can be identified. The term Norman or Noor man, which often occurs, meant a Scandinavian (Northman) while Normand meant a Norman in our sense of the word.

The names of many of these pioneer New Netherlanders are still well known in New York. Some have already been mentioned — Rapelye, Bergen, Bogart, Bogardus, De Forest, Van Dyck, Ver Planck, Opdyck, Kierstede, La Montagne, Ogden, and Cornell. Others introduced by the time of Gov ernor Kieft were Hardenberg, Hendricks, De Witt, Duryea, Provoost, Wynkoop, De Kay, Snedeker, Blauvelt, Meserole, Riker, Coster, Van Vorst, Duyckinck, Wendell, Brinckerhoff, and Cowenhoven; and among those of English origin Valen tine, Lawrence, Townsend, Thorne, and Underhill. A few of the first American bearers of these names were men of good birth and education but most of them had been farmers, artisans, or sailors at home and were described as 'wholly without means' on their arrival in the New World.

Of course good birth is not disproved by the fact that a man came penniless to America and worked here in some fashion which in Europe was thought ignoble. On the other hand, men of lowly birth as well as lowly occupation could achieve prominence in New Netherland. For example, Cov ert Lockermans, according to the testimony of Secretary Van Tienhoven, came in 1633 as cook's mate on one of the Company's vessels and was taken by Van Twiller into the Company's service as clerk but soon became a 'freeman.' Then he served as skipper of the first regular packet-boat plying between New Amsterdam and Fort Orange, took charge of the business of a firm in Holland, traded on his own account, and in after years was one of the richest men in the province and one of the few whose name sometimes appears on the records with the respectful Heer (Mr.) pre fixed.

It is also well to remember, when the forefathers of New York are in question, that neither the early use of a coat of arms nor the bearing of a sonorous surname with the particle van or de testified to aristocratic lineage.

Feudal customs did not bequeath to the Netherland prov inces as perfectly developed, rigidly persistent a social system as to other parts of Europe. While they were under Spanish rule titles were bestowed by various overlords but family devices were not regulated. Under the Republic no titles were conferred and the old nobility lost power and prestige, everywhere almost `extinguished,' Sir William Temple wrote, during 'the long wars with Spain,' and shorn of influence by the upgrowth of a burgher aristocracy graduated from the walks of trade. Therefore at the time when New Nether land was settled few Hollanders had an inherited right to use armorial bearings; and this fact made it seem permissible to those who cared for such trappings to adopt, as they grew prosperous in the New World, coats of arms with whatever devices they might select. In regard to names conditions were just as free and were more confused.

Amid the masses of the population hereditary surnames scarcely existed as yet. The common usage was the same that still prevails among the immigrants who come to us from Scandinavia. To the Christian name was added merely the father's with a suffix meaning son — zoon or zen (abbre viated in writing to z.), sen, se, or s. A William who was the son of a John was Willem Janszoon (Jansz.), Janssen, Jansen, or Jans, while his son John was Jan Willemsen, subject to as many variations. Thus the son of Roelof and Annetje Jans was known as Jan Roelofsen, and Sarah, the eldest daughter of Joris Rapelje (the first-born daughter of New Netherland), was sometimes called Sarah Joresey. As the years went on, these patronymics often became permanent surnames: Jan sen or Willemsen was established, like Johnson or William son among the English, as the family name. Or, as confu sions thus naturally arose, a more distinctive appellation was assumed or bestowed and was often attached to the patro nymic by the particle van or de.

Although the Dutch van means ' of ' it does not now, like the German von, denote noble or gentle birth, nor did it have this significance in the seventeenth century. While great Dutch landowners had often assumed it with the name of their estates so had the lessee of such an estate or of part of it, or even a minor tenant or servant — just as many of our own negroes appropriated the surnames of their masters. Used with the name of a city, town, village, or district it served to distinguish some one who had moved from this place to another. The remarkable number, says Winkler, of names with van denoting foreign lands and places bears witness to the multitude of the strangers who settled in the Low Countries, and the equally large number of those denoting home localities shows how greatly the native population shifted as a result of the chances of war and of commercial develop ment. The van was also used with a mere Christian name, with that of some landmark near a dwelling, and with characterizing epithets of many another sort. In later times it was sometimes assumed as a mark of gentility like the German von — and sometimes very illogically, as when it was set before a name which already had a prefix or suf fix of the same meaning as its own. Furthermore, many noble families dropped their old names as well as their titles in republican times. When the Republic had come to an end, when the provinces formed part of the empire of Napoleon, the use of surnames was still so far from universal that the people were ordered to assume them in order to facilitate the keeping of what would now be called registers of vital statistics. And then some of the old families took new names while others resumed the old ones that they had discarded.

Thus it will be understood that in the Holland of to-day surnames have slight historical significance. Families of high and of low degree often bear the same name, with or without the van, and many noble names lack the particle while it frequently appears over the doors of shops and on hucksters' carts. It is the same with ver, as in Ver Planck, which is merely a contraction of van der, the.' Still less significance as a mark of high birth had the de in Netherland names. Even the French de lacked its present value until Louis XIV ennobled it, so to say, at a later time than the birth-time of New Netherland. And the role of the Dutch de, which means not ' of ' but 'the,' has always been simply to attach to the Christian name or patronymic some identifying nickname or geographical adjective. So it is, of course, with other prefixes like ter and ten, contractions meaning 'at the' or ' by the,' and with op which means `on.' Thus De Wolf (` the wolf'), De Haas (` the hare'), De Meyer (` the farmer'), and De Ruyter (` the horseman'), to cite names well known in New York, are no more aristocratic in origin than Paauw (` peacock'), nor Vandervoort (` of the ford') than Gansevoort (` goose-ford '). The name of an early settler on Long Island, Pieter Andriessen De Schoorsteen veger, has a less grandiose sound when it is translated into Peter Anderson the Chimneysweep.

Among the Dutch and Flemish names that have survived in New York many were of Old World origin, most of them, like Van Dyck, Op Dyck, and Vam Dam (` of the dike,' `on the dike,' and `of the dam '), being common names in Hol land. Very often, however, surnames were assumed on this side of the ocean, sometimes being used at first only in sign ing legal papers. In neither case does a likeness between an American name and one that now exists in the Netherlands afford proof of kinship.

Naturally many of the names here assumed denoted the bearer's place of birth. Some of these, like Van Amsterdam and De Swede, seem to have died out while others survive, like Van Antwerp and Van Wyck, the latter referring to a little town on a branch of the Scheldt. Many surnames brought to America or adopted here denoted trades. Bleecker is ' bleacher,' Coster is 'sexton,' Brower is `brewer.' Knicker bocker, which Washington Irving established as a synonym for Dutch-American aristocracy, is properly Knickerbacker, a baker or burner of china knick-knacks. Latinized names were imported from the fatherland where they were assumed, very often, as a proof of university education. Such were the names of the three clergymen, Michaelius, Bogardus, and Megapolensis, transmogrified from Michielzoon or Mich ielsen, Bogert, and Mecklenburg. Nicknames, of course, grew up in numbers. For instance, the first bearer of a name now honorably known in many parts of America was a tailor whose signature for years was Hendrick Hendricksen but afterwards Hendrick Hendricksen Kip — kip meaning a hen or the band that ties a bundle of dried fish.

These facts explain why it is that in the chronicles of New Netherland so many persons appear under different names. After Kip acquired his surname he was sometimes referred to as Hendrick Snyder Kip, snyder meaning tailor, and occasionally as Hendrick Op Kippenburg, Kippenburg being the name he gave his residence. Kuyter was commonly called simply Jochem Pietersen, and Captain De Vries, whose surname meant 'the Frieslander,' simply David Pietersen or occasionally David Pietersen Van Hoorn, Hoorn being his place of birth. The carpenter, Hans Hansen, who married Sarah Rapelje was variously labelled with identifying names, appearing in the records as Hans Hansen Noorman or De Noorman (the Norwegian), as Hans Hansen Van Bergen in Noorwegen, a form that fully described his birthplace, and more curtly as Hans Hansen Bergen. His descendants, who happen to be Bergens, might just as well have been De Noor mans. Nicholas De Meyer who became a leading citizen in English times usually wrote his name N. D. Meijer (ij being used in Dutch as equivalent to y) but was sometimes written about as Nicholas Meyer Van Hamburg, sometimes as Nicholas Van Holstein or as Nicholas De Meijer Van Hol stein. Cornelis Maessen, one of the tobacco planters whom Van Rensselaer sent to his colony in its early days, stood on the list of settlers as Cornelis Maessen Van Buermalsen. His son was known for a time as Martin Cornelissen but eventually adapted and adopted the name of his father's birthplace and transmitted it to his children's children. One of these in the fifth generation was the President of the United States, Martin Van Buren. Again, a certain Oloff Stevensen, possibly a Scandinavian as Oloff is not a Dutch name, came out in 1637 as a private soldier in the employ of the West India Company. A correspondent of Van Rensselaer's, he seems to have been an educated person. Kieft appointed him one of the first inspectors of tobacco; and, quickly ris ing through minor civil posts to be the Company's collector of customs and going into business on his own account as a brewer, he made himself one of the most influential men in the province, married a sister of Govert Lockermans, added Van Cortlandt to the two names that had sufficed him for many years, and founded a family which for generations played a leading part in New York. The Van Cortlandt coat of arms with its windmill sails seems to bear witness to its assumption by an ambitious New World brewer.

English surnames were by this time well established. They show few confusing variations except such as were wrought by Dutch pens dealing phonetically with unfamiliar sounds.

The most conspicuous Englishmen in New Netherland in the time of Governor Kieft were Isaac Allerton and John Underhill.

Allerton has already been mentioned as one of the early settlers at Plymouth. In fact, he was one of the chief of those who came on the Mayflower with the party from Leyden, one of the ten to whose names, on the list that Bradford drew up of these first emigrants to New England, he prefixed the `Master' (Mr.) which denoted gentle birth. Yet Allerton had worked as a tailor at Leyden where he was admitted a freeman of the city. At Plymouth he served as assistant governor, was one of eight persons who assumed for a time the responsibility for the debt owed by the colony to its backers, and more than once was sent as its agent to England. Bradford accuses him of managing its affairs rashly or dis honestly, but the charges are not specific and are not sus tained by other evidence. The most prosperous for a time of the Plymouth settlers Allerton was the first trader in New England who could rightly be called a merchant Choosing the spot as the headquarters for his large fleet of fishing boats he was the founder of Marblehead. Commercial misfortunes overtaking him, in 1638 he removed to New Amsterdam where he stayed ten years, acting as consignee of the English vessels that traded in the port and, in partnership with Govert Lockermans, growing prosperous again through coastwise ventures and the traffic in tobacco. His ware house stood on the East River shore near the present site of Fulton Market.

John Underhill came of a Warwickshire family of military antecedents — the family from which William Shakespeare, when he grew prosperous, bought New Place, then the largest house in Stratford-on-Avon. He had served with credit in the army in the Low Countries, Ireland, and Spain, and had married a Dutch wife. The first person of his profession to find employment in New England, he was hired by the new born Company of Massachusetts Bay at a salary of £50 a year, came out with Winthrop in 1630, drilled the militia of Boston and Roxbury, and commanded the Massachusetts contingent when the allied New Englanders crushed the Pequots. Of this war his tract called News from America, published in 1638 when he had gone back for a time to Eng land, gives a more complete and a more picturesque account than does Gardiner's Relation.

Returning to Massachusetts Underhill, as Winthrop relates, was one of the half-dozen 'principal signers' of a petition on behalf of Mrs. Anne Hutchinson who 'stood to justify' it and were therefore deprived of their offices and disenfran chised. Other grievances the commonwealth had against him. Once it accused him of sin on two special counts : he had called its people Scribes and Pharisees and had said that he came to his ' assurance of salvation' while smoking a pipe of tobacco. Giving many dramatic details Winthrop tells furthermore of charges of seduction and adultery in answer to which Underhill publicly apologized with hypo critical tears; but it is hard now to judge of the degree of truth in these tales, for Underhill displeased the authorities by his advocacy of free speech as well as by his free ways of life, and, moreover, certain words were used by the Puritans in a sense that they do not now convey. In 1638, in the most amusing letter that has come down to us from Puritan days, Underhill informed his friend Hansard Knowles that he had been 'convened' before Sir Henry Vane, then governor of the Bay Colony, Cotton, Hugh Peters, and others for com mitting 'a certain act of adultery' with one Mistress Miriam Wilbore — that is, for pointedly staring at her `at the lec ture in Boston.' The lady, he explained, had . . . since been dealt with for coming to that lecture with a pair of wanton open worked gloves, slit at the thumbs and fingers for the purpose of taking snuff. For, as Master Cotton observed, for what end should those vain openings be, but for the intent of taking filthy snuff ? and he quoted Gregory Nazianzen upon good works.

Underhill, he confessed, had indeed stared at Mistress Wilbore but 'did not look at the woman lustfully.' Then Master Peters said, ' Why did you not look at Sister Newell, or Sister Upham ? ' I said, Verily they are not desirable women, as to temporal graces. Then Hugh Peters and all cried, 'It is enough, he hath confessed,' and so passed excommunication. I said, Where is the law by which you condemn me ? Winthrop said, ' There is a committee to draught laws ; I am sure Brother Peters has made a law against this very sin.' Master Cotton read from his Bible, Whoso looketh on a woman to lust after her, hath already committed adultery with her in his heart.' Evidently the free-spoken soldier had a sense of humor which may well have exasperated beyond the bounds of veracious comment those whom he pitied as 'proud Phari seriously laboring ' about the mint and cummin.' To judge by his writings he was as pious as they; yet by his own confession his ways of living were loose; and so, as will appear, was his reading of the obligations imposed by an oath of allegiance.

Banished from Boston he figured for a time as the governor of Piscataqua (Dover). Ousted from this place and driven to a public acknowledgment of his transgressions at Boston, he secured forgiveness from its rulers but never lived under them again. In 1639, while he was at Dover, Governor Kieft issued a permit to 'Governor Onderhill' who resided 'toward the north' and a few families, allowing them to settle in his province on the customary terms. Underhill, however, settled at Stamford in New Haven Colony where he must have been well esteemed as he served as commander of the local militia, assistant justice, and delegate to the general court. He did not appear on Manhattan until it sadly needed his help against Indian enemies.

The mixture of many nationalities on and near Manhat tan bore natural fruit in a broadening of that democratic spirit which even in a purely Dutch community would have contrasted strongly with the spirit of the New England colo nies, always excepting Rhode Island.

Although in these colonies there were many men of demo cratic temper and ideals, and although even the dominant spirit was republican as it expressed itself in outward politi cal forms, it was for the most part oligarchical in the adminis tration of such forms and aristocratic in essence. In Mas sachusetts all freeholders could attend town meeting and all had to pay taxes and to help in the support of the orthodox clergy, but the 'freemen' who were entitled to hold office and to vote for the governor and the members of the general court included none but adherents in good standing of the established Puritan church; and these, as the years went on, formed an ever decreasing minority until at the time of the Restoration, when Charles II wished the colony to abolish the religious test, not more than one in five or six of its adult males could vote. Moreover, many of its leading men ex plicitly expressed anti-democratic sentiments. One was John Cotton. One was Governor Winthrop who wrote that among most civilized nations democracy was 'accounted the meanest and worst form of government.' Another was Nathaniel Ward who framed the code called the Body of Liberties, adopted in 1641. He doubted, he wrote to Win throp, whether such things should be submitted 'to the com mon consideration of the freemen.' Both commonwealth and church, he thought, had perhaps 'descended too low already,' adding: I see the spirits of people run high and what they get they hold. They may not be denied their proper and lawful liberties, but I ques tion whether it be of God to interest the inferior sort in that which should be reserved 'inter optimates penes quos est sancire leges.' New Haven also established religio-political tests; and while Plymouth did not, nor Connecticut except for the office of governor, neither granted the franchise except upon certificates of moral qualification.

In Virginia social distinctions were marked' from the first and were emphasized by the advent of great numbers of bond servants. As strong a line was not drawn in New England between the laborer and those of higher social standing yet great deference was paid to good blood, education, wealth, and the social position that these implied. In Massachu setts the right to be called 'Mr.' was reserved to those who by virtue of their birth could claim it in England, and to magistrates, ministers, and physicians; and it was formally taken away from any one who while holding it disgraced him self. In New Haven on a list of seventy freemen drawn up in 1639 'Mr.' was prefixed to eighteen names and 'Goodman' to six while the others had no prefix at all. Discriminating sumptuary statutes were frequently enacted in Connecticut and in Massachusetts where, says Winthrop of the year 1634, many laws were passed 'against tobacco and immodest fash ions and costly apparel.' On the lists of Harvard College the students were ranked not alphabetically but according to their social standing; and this system, which conferred certain privileges on the socially elect, persisted until 1773. In New Haven as well as in Massachusetts seats in the meeting house were allotted with scrupulous regard to the same prin ciples of discrimination. In short, the 'gentry' and the `generality' were clearly and officially differentiated. In Massachusetts especially all high offices were reserved to the gentry, and above this class again stood the clerical clique — at the top in dignity and in authority although without offi cial recognition of its preeminence. The spirit thus shown naturally resulted in quasi-permanent place-holding although it did not effect the creation of hereditary offices.

In New Amsterdam there were as yet no political privileges but there were no oligarchical restrictions, there was no aris tocratic atmosphere; and, when political agitation began, the humblest free settler had as good a chance as his richer and better-born neighbors to make his voice heard and his influence felt and to win the prize of office. There was less civil liberty but more natural liberty. There were none but ex officio distinctions of rank and these, of course, did not amount to distinctions of class. No sumptuary laws were ever thought of, and no ordinances concerned themselves with forms of address or with social questions of any sort. Persons who were addressed in Holland as Heer or Sieur were some times so denominated in public papers; but no rule was fol lowed, and the same terms were soon occasionally bestowed, without any regard to Old World antecedents, upon men who by their own efforts had raised themselves in the New World above the level of the mass of their fellows. The ex-cook Govert Lockermans is an instance in point.

Only a Dutch colony could contentedly have become so cosmopolitan in blood that all class distinctions of necessity disappeared. The New Englanders must have thought that a mixed and unstratified population like New Amsterdam's could never mould itself into a coherent, promisingly vital community. Yet race antagonisms among its white inhab itants seem to have played no part at all in its troubles until, at a later day than Governor Kieft's, the desire of the English to secure the province for themselves grew strong.

Although no people surpassed the Dutch in the love of liberty and none had kept pace with them in securing its best fruits, they were not as well practised as the English in for mulating liberal political ideas and principles. The settlers near Fort Amsterdam troubled themselves little about the government which they had pledged themselves to obey until they realized that it limited their personal freedom and in jured their corporate welfare. Then, through their Twelve Men, they asked for a share in its management. The request came to nothing, but fair promises from Governor Kieft, peace with the Indians, and increasing prosperity quieted endeavor for a while. When fresh troubles came a more emphatic demand soon followed.

This moment was not long delayed. Soon after peace was concluded with the Wechquaeskecks at the house of Jonas Bronck in 1642, Kieft and his people were alarmed by a report that Miantonomi, the ambitious chief of the Narragansetts, was urging all the savage tribes to unite in a general attack on the Dutch and the English; and they knew, moreover, that the embers of local strife had not been effectually quenched. Captain De Vries tells how the revengeful passions of the Indians smouldered, how individual white men fanned them with fresh provocations, and how he warned both sides of the inevitable result. Early in 1643 a drunken Indian, exasper ated by some real or fancied injury, shot a Dutchman at Hackensack who was thatching a barn. His sachems were afraid to approach Governor Kieft, and when they ventured to do so under De Vries's protection Kieft refused their offer of blood-money and, as in the case of the Wechquaeskecks, demanded the surrender of the culprit. The sachems prom ised to try to deliver him but laid the blame for the crime upon the persons who made their young men 'crazy' by selling them liquor.

Meanwhile the savages had fallen to fighting among them selves. Eighty or ninety Mohawks, says De Vries, 'each with a gun on his shoulder,' came down River Mauritius to take tribute from the Wechquaeskecks and their brother Algon quins who lived at Tappaen where the captain's new bouwerie lay. Some of these River Indians, less warlike and less well armed than the Mohawks — timid 'children' the captain calls them — fled hungry and half frozen to New Amsterdam. There the settlers received them kindly and harbored them for a fortnight. Others, to the number of four or five hundred, flocked to De Vries's bouwerie where he had only five white men with him. He was not afraid that they `would do any harm' but wishing to be 'master in his house' asked Kieft to send him a guard of soldiers. Kieft refused. Then, excited by some fresh alarm, the Indians scattered from the bouwerie and from New Amsterdam, some going to Pavo nia near the bluff opposite Manhattan now covered by the Stevens estate, some to Corlaer's Hook on the eastern shoulder of Manhattan itself.

On February 24th, while De Vries was sitting at table with the governor, Kieft ' began to state his intentions,' saying that he had a mind 'to wipe the mouths' of these fugitive Indians. Three members of the Board of Twelve Men, he explained, — Damen, Adriaensen, and Planck, — had pre sented a petition which Secretary Van Tienhoven had drawn up for them and which professed to speak for all the twelve. It advised the governor 'to begin this work' against the sav ages. De Vries told him that there was no reason for any work of the sort, and that he could not begin it without the consent of all the Twelve Men including himself : But it appeared that my speaking was of no avail. He had, with his co-murderers, determined to commit the crime, deeming it a Roman deed, and to do it without warning the inhabitants in the open lands so that each one might take care of himself against the retaliation of the Indians, for he could not kill all the Indians.

Perhaps some scheme for personal profit lay behind the action of the governor's `co-murderers.' Three of them, Planck, Damen, and Van Tienhoven, were evidently close friends, their names appearing together in the records of sev eral business transactions ; and they were also connected by family ties, Planck and Van Tienhoven having married two of Damen's stepdaughters, the sisters of Jan Vinje.

At all events Kieft had made up his mind to follow their advice before he spoke to De Vries. When they had finished their meal he invited the captain into a 'large hall' which he had recently added to his house: Coming to it, there stood all his soldiers ready to cross the river to Pavonia to commit the murder. Then spake I again to Governor William Kieft : 'Stop this work; you wish to break the mouths of the Indians but you will also murder our own nation for there are none of the farmers who are aware of it.' Councillor La Montagne and Domine Bogardus joined in De Vries's prayers and warnings. Kieft knew that the evil spirits who were urging him to bloodshed had no right to speak for the Board of Twelve Men which he had dissolved a year before; and he ought to have known that it was just the mo ment when kindness would win the frightened Algonquins to a lasting friendship. Yet, shielding himself behind the fraudulent petition, and asserting that it expressed the wishes of the commonalty who were really for the most part wholly ignorant of his plans, he determined, as La Montagne put it, to build a bridge over which 'war would stalk through the whole country.' To one of his sergeants he gave a commis sion to take a troop of soldiers from the fort and 'to destroy all the Indians' at Pavonia, sparing the women and children `as much as possible' but trying to capture them; and to Maryn Adriaensen he gave another to go `with his men,' meaning a band of volunteers, to Corlaer's plantation and there to act toward the savages as he should 'deem proper.' Secretary Van Tienhoven and Govert Lockermans accom panied the second party. How both parties carried out their orders Captain De Vries relates: So was this business begun between the 25th and 26th of February in the year 1643. I remained that night at the governor's sitting up. I went and sat in the kitchen when, about midnight, I heard a great shrieking and I ran to the ramparts of the fort and looked over to Pavonia. Saw nothing but firing and heard the shrieks of the Indians murdered in their sleep. I returned again to the house by the fire. . . . When it was day the soldiers returned to the fort having massacred or murdered eighty Indians and considering they had done a deed of Roman valor in murdering so many in their sleep ; where infants were torn from their mothers' breasts and hacked to pieces in the presence of the parents, and the pieces thrown into the fire and in the water, and other sucklings were bound to small boards and then cut, stuck, and pierced, and miserably massacred in a manner to move a heart of stone. . . . Many fled from the scene and concealed themselves in the neighboring sedge, and when it was morning came out to beg a piece of bread and to be permitted to warm themselves, but they were murdered in cold blood and tossed into the water. . . .

After this exploit, De Vries continues, Kieft thanked the soldiers, shaking their hands and congratulating them. On the same night forty Indians were attacked in the same way at Corlaer's Hook and massacred 'as the Duke of Alva did in the Netherlands but more cruelly.' It was 'indeed a dis grace' to the nation ruled by the Prince of Orange who in his wars had always tried `to spill as little blood as was pos sible.' Nor can it be thought that De Vries exaggerated the horrors of this winter night. Other documents as well as the Remonstrance of New Netherland support his account of it, and most of them fully indorse his censure of Kieft although some explain that the governor was deceived by Van Tien hoven.

At Corlaer's Hook there is now a waterside park where children of many nationalities peaceably play together. Here as at Pavonia the Algonquins and their children died in 1643 in the belief that the Mohawks had attacked them. For the moment many of the Dutchmen thought the same. Then, fearful of the revenge the savages might wreak, some of the Dutch settlers on Long Island asked leave to attack the Indians there who had always been friendly. Kieft gave orders not to molest them unless they showed enmity. But he had inspired in some breasts and unchained in others feelings of fear, cruelty, and cupidity that he could not control. Marauding parties of Dutchmen and Englishmen pillaged the deserted wigwams at Pavonia and even the farms of the inoffensive Long Island red men. These, deeply insulted, made common cause with the River Indians who burned to avenge their slaughtered brethren, and eleven tribes rose in open war, attacking the settlers who were thinly scattered from the Raritan River at the southwest to the Housatonic at the northeast, wasting the farms, killing the men, and carrying off most of the women and children into the forest.

All who escaped their sudden, stealthy onslaughts fled to the fort on Manhattan where Governor Kieft was still safely ensconced. Even De Vries's plantation at Tappaen was deso lated. He himself was spared, with his house and the farmers who had taken refuge under its roof. This was his reward for saving the life of a savage who on the dreadful night of the massacre, thinking that the Mohawks were upon him, had sought shelter in Fort Amsterdam and who now induced his fellows not to attack the 'good chief' and his friends. Otherwise there was safety nowhere except up the river at Fort Orange and Rensselaerswyck where the Mohawks and Mohegans had not risen.

Thoroughly frightened, Kieft proclaimed a day of fasting and prayer and hired all the settlers as soldiers for two months. As much alarmed as he and filled with rage against him, they threatened to depose him and to send him back to Holland. Then he tried to shift the blame for his wicked rashness upon the advisers who had professed to speak in the commonalty. Marvin Adriaensen, doubly embitftered by the wred-rof his own plaiation, hotly resenited this meanness. Bytli.hing into Kieft's presence pistol in hand, 'What devilish lies,' he cried, 'have you been telling of me ?' He was seized, disarmed, and imprisoned. Learning of this, two of his fol lowers hurried to the fort. One of them fired at the governor but missed him and was shot by a sentinel. For a warning his head was set upon the gallows. Nevertheless twenty or thirty other mutineers riotously demanded Adriaensen's release. Kieft declared that he should be fairly tried by a court composed of reputable colonists; but, as he reported to the West India Company, 'nobody was willing' to assist him and so he sent his prisoner to Holland to be dealt with there.

Against this dark background of terror, cruelty, and suf fering the figure of Captain De Vries stands out brightly. He did not lose his courage, his patience, or his sympathy with the distressed white men on the one hand, the exas perated savages on the other. As soon as the Long Island Indians showed any sign of a desire for peace he went among them with a single companion and persuaded some of them to come, under his protection, into the presence of the hated governor. They trusted De Vries, they said, because they had never heard a lie from him and this was true of very few other white men. As a result of his wise and gentle counsels treaties of peace were signed in the midsummer of 1643 with the Long Island and Westchester tribes, the Hackensacks, and the Tappans.

Governor Winthrop did not deeply sympathize with his fellow-countrymen who suffered in these disasters for, as he wrote, they were persons who . . . had cast off ordinances and churches and now at last their own people and for large accommodation had subjected themselves to the Dutch.. . .

Wintrfirop's account of this war, like his other references to the New Netherland, is For example, he says attacked Gbvt:Inor Kieft because he was jealous of John Underhill whereas, in fact, Underhill had not yet shown himself in New Nether land. He also says that Roger Williams helped the Dutch to make peace with the Indians. No evidence supports this statement which has been reiterated a hundred times. Wil liams did, indeed, come to New Amsterdam in 1643 to take ship for Europe, wanting to secure a charter for Providence Plantations and forbidden by the authorities in Boston to embark at their port; and eleven years later he referred to the episode in a letter to these authorities, saying: Heretofore, not having liberty of taking ship in your jurisdiction, I was forced to repair unto the Dutch where mine eyes did see that first breaking forth of that Indian war which the Dutch begun, upon the slaughter of some Dutch by the Indians ; and they questioned not to finish it in a few days, insomuch that the name of peace, which some offered to mediate, was foolish and odious to them. But before we weighed anchor their bowries were in flames; Dutch and English were slain. Mine eyes saw their flames at their towns and the flights and hurries of men, women, and children, the present removal of all that could for Holland. . . .

These lines refer to another and a much worse season of disaster which followed close upon the treaties made by Cap tain De Vries. The savages were not satisfied with the words or the gifts of Governor Kieft, and their sachems, doubting that his ordinances against the selling of liquor would be obeyed, warned him that they might not be able to control the young braves who were 'continually crying for ven geance.' Yet when the fresh fire broke out the spark came from a distance. There was war among the Indians of the Connecticut Valley; the contagion spread into the upper valley of River Mauritius and southward along its banks; the Dutch were attacked in their vessels on the river, and by September New Amsterdam was again in deadly fear.

Then, as in 1641, Kieft begged for the aid of representatives of the people. Probably they doubted his good faith, for a petition signed by forty-seven persons including three Englishmen asked that he and his council should themselves appoint the members of the proposed board, the people to have the right of veto. Finally the people consented to elect a board of eight. Two of these Eight Select Men, Damen and Kuyter, had served among the Twelve Men. The others were four Netherlanders and two Englishmen — Barent Dircksen, Abraham Pietersen, Gerrit Wolf ertsen, and Cor nelis Melyn, Thomas Hall and Isaac Allerton. As their presi dent they chose Melyn, the patroon of Staten Island. Their first act was to expel from their board Jan Jansen Damen who had signed the fraudulent petition in the name of the Twelve Men. In spite of his plea that he had been deceived into so doing by the governor's misrepresentations they put in his place Jan Evertsen Bout of Pavonia. Then they re solved that peace should be kept with the Long Island Ind ians, war should be declared against the River tribes. In conjunction with the governor they set to work to arm and to drill the Dutch colonists and the West India Company's servants and to hire as soldiers fifty or more of the newly arrived English settlers who were all threatening to leave the province. Kuyter was put at the head of the Dutch force; and, through Isaac Allerton, John Underhill was induced to come from Stamford to command the Englishmen. All these burgher soldiers, English and Dutch, took an oath of fealty and devotion to the States General, the West India Company, and the governor and his council.

Before these preparations were completed the Wechquaes kecks broke loose beyond the Harlem River and murdered Anne Hutchinson and her household of sixteen, sparing only her little daughter, and some of the settlers on Throgmorton's and Cornell's plantations. When this was known in New England Thomas Hooker declared that the 'bare arm' of God displayed itself in the death of Mrs. Hutchinson, and Thomas Welde wrote: God's hand is the more apparently seen herein to pick out this woeful woman to make her and those belonging to her an unheard-of heavy example above others.. . .

Soon the flame of war burst out along the western shores of river and bay and upon Long Island. Here only Lady Deborah Moody's plantation was saved, her stout party of colonists beating off the attacks of the savages. Francis Doughty, the clergyman who had settled at Mespath, fled with his associates to New Amsterdam where he ministered for a time to his compatriots, the Dutch residents assisting them to support him. He was the first English clergyman who officiated on Manhattan.

Then the savages devastated Manhattan itself so that above the Kalck Hoek Pond only half a dozen bouweries remained and the inhabitants of these were in hourly fear of destruc tion. Many murders were committed by Indians purporting to come to warn the Christians. From all directions the peo ple flocked into Fort Amsterdam. Their Eight Men advised Kieft to turn to their use and defence the cargoes and crews of two Company ships which lay in the harbor ready to sail with provisions for Curacoa. Cautious for once, and just when he should not have been, he said that he must obey the Company's orders; and the half-starved refugees saw the wheat that their own fields had produced carried out of their reach. The Eight Men also advised Kieft to hire a hundred and fifty soldiers in New England, to draw a bill upon the Company for the money wherewith to pay them, and as security to mortgage New Netherland to the New Englanders. Thereupon Underhill and Allerton were sent to ask at New Haven permission to recruit a hundred men to be `led forth' by Underhill. As the confederacy called the United Colonies of New England had recently been formed, New Haven de cided that it could not grant such a request without the con sent of its allies. Moreover it doubted whether the Dutch men's war were 'just.' It would do no more for them than promise to sell them food; and it vainly urged Underhill to remain at Stamford, offering him £20 'to prevent the snares of larger offers for his remove.' Of course Winthrop was mistaken when he wrote that the employment of Underhill was a plot of Governor Kieft's to engage the English in his quarrel with the Indians which they had 'wholly declined as doubting the justice of the cause.' De Vries now risked his life again on an errand of mercy, going alone among the River Indians to redeem the child of one of his friends. He could no longer do anything for the colony at large. His own prospects in New Netherland were ruined, and he was glad of the chance to sail for Virginia as pilot of a Rotterdam herring-buss which had recently come from New England. Upon his departure, he relates, . . . in taking leave of William Kieft I told him that this murder which he had committed was so much innocent blood, that it would yet be avenged upon him, and so I left him.

And so, with a prophecy on his lips that soon was verified, Captain De Vries left New Netherland never to come back.

In 1644 he returned from Virginia to Holland by way of England. His last word upon New Netherland, written at this time, was that the directors of the Company were so jealous of each other that there might as well be no Company, but that if the land were free, as in Virginia, . . . and everything produced by labor out of the ground, millions would be returned and the land populated at once ; there would be no want of cargoes of the productions of the earth as there is of peltries.

In the late autumn of the year 1643 the Eight Men drew up the first communications addressed by the people of New Netherland to the authorities in Holland — a Memorial to the Assembly of the XIX of the West India Company and another to the States General. The latter says in part: Almost every place is abandoned. We, wretched people, must skulk, with wives and children that still survive, in poverty together, in and around the fort at the Manahatas where we are not safe even for an hour whilst the Indians daily threaten to overwhelm us with it. Very little can be planted this autumn and much less in the spring; so that it will come to pass that all of us who will yet save our lives must of necessity perish next year of hunger and sorrow unless our God have pity on us. We are all here, from the smallest to the greatest, devoid of counsel and means, wholly powerless. The enemy meets with scarcely any resistance. The garrison consists of fifty or sixty soldiers, unprovided with ammunition. Fort Amsterdam, utterly de fenceless, stands open to the enemy night and day. The Company hath few or no effects here (as the Director hath informed us) ; were it not for this, there would have been still time to receive assistance from the English at the East ere all were lost. But we, helpless in habitants, are exceedingly poor. The heathens are strong in might . . . and are well provided with guns, powder, and ball, in exchange for beaver, by the private traders who for a long time have had free course here. The rest they take from our brethren whom they murder. In short, we suffer the greatest misery which must astonish a Christian heart to see or hear.

We turn then in a body to you, High and Mighty Lords. . . . And should assistance not arrive (contrary to our expectations) we shall through necessity in order to save the lives of those who remain, be obliged to betake ourselves to the English at the East who would like nothing better than to possess this place. . . .

Thus had monopoly, paternal government, and the malad ministration which meant a careless choice of executives borne their natural fruit. Thus, in less than a score of years, were almost literally fulfilled the predictions of Wassenaer when he wrote that if an ' executioner ' should rule New Netherland, ordering its people `as their superior' instead Of guiding them `as their friend and associate,' he would subvert and nullify everything and they would fly to the neighboring provinces.

In the Pequot War of 1637 the red men had had no fire arms, and so harmless, relatively, were their arrows that although they wounded one in four of the New Englanders they killed only two men. It was a different thing to fight Indians armed as were those now threatening Manhattan. Moreover, while at the beginning of the year the commonalty had included five hundred men of fighting age now, says the Memorial of the Eight Men to the West India Company, the surviving population consisted 'mainly of women and chil dren'; the freemen `exclusive of the English' were only `about two hundred strong' and were forced for the protection of their families to stay near the fort which was itself 'defence less' and entirely out of repair, resembling 'rather a molehill than a fort against an enemy.' And as almost all the cattle were destroyed and the houses burned there was a dearth of food and of clothing for the unfortunates who were huddled in 'straw huts' outside the crumbling ramparts.

It was a point in favor of the whites that the Indians, although numerous, acted with little concert. It was a point against them that it was hard to come to blows with roving war-parties that fled into the forest at the approach of any organized force. Bands of soldiers and settlers whom Kieft despatched to Staten Island and beyond the Harlem accom plished scarcely anything. An expedition to Long Island, led by La Montagne with Kuyter in command of the Dutch and Underhill of the English contingent, did more effective work. Ensign Van Dyck, the commander of the garrison, appears to have been suffering at this time from a wound. But in February, 1644, when Underhill had ascertained that a great body of Indians was gathered in a stockaded strong hold on Strickland Plain, not far from the Bedford Village of to-day, he and Van Dyck and about a hundred and fifty men went by water to Greenwich and, after a long day's march through a hilly country deep in snow, attacked the fort by moonlight, burned it, and almost exterminated its occu pants, men, women, and children. It was like the burning and the slaughter of the Pequots in their fort near the Mystic River. Hundreds perished — `some say full seven hundred,' declares the Journal of New Netherland. Only eight escaped. They cannot have been armed like the savages nearer New Amsterdam for they killed none of the white men and wounded only fifteen.

In March peace was again concluded with the Indians of this region and Long Island. As those who were prowling about on Manhattan and those beyond the North River refused to be pacified, Kieft ordered all persons who wished protection for such cattle as remained to them to join in build ing a 'good solid fence' which stretched across the island a little above the present line of Wall Street.

No help, not even in the way of supplies, had come from Holland — nothing except a bill for some 2500 guilders, drawn by Kieft on the Company, which was sent back pro tested. In January, when their troubles were at the worst, some of the chief men on Manhattan had equipped a priva teer named La Garce and sent it to the West Indies to `annoy the Spaniards' and, of course, to bring back what booty it could. In May it returned freighted with sugar, wine, tobacco, and ebony captured in a hot fight with two Spanish barks; but its cargo could not be utilized in any way until after due process of confiscation by a court of admiralty. Meanwhile a ship bound for Rensselaerswyck had entered the harbor, laden with goods sent by the patroon for his colonists. When the supercargo refused to sell Kieft fifty pairs of shoes for the soldiers the governor took them by force. Discovering then that the vessel carried a large supply of guns and ammunition — wares that none but the Com pany itself was permitted to send out or to sell — he con fiscated both ship and cargo.

Declaring now that he was without money or resources and could not pay the enlisted Englishmen Kieft asked the Eight Men to permit him to impose an excise tax. Even the suggestion of such a thing, they said, ought to come from the Company, not from its deputy, and a better plan would be to tax the many wandering traders who were gathering riches in the province while the actual settlers were ruined. Kieft insisting, however, they reluctantly sanctioned his scheme, `provisionally' until God should grant peace or a sufficient succor should come from Holland; and in June the director and council imposed an excise of one guilder on every beaver skin, of four stivers on each quart of Spanish wine and brandy and two stivers on each quart of French wine, to be paid by the tapster, and of two guilders on each half-barrel of beer, to be paid in equal parts by the brewer and the tapster, `the burgher who does not retail it to pay half as much.' In asking the consent of the Eight Men to these, the first internal taxes laid upon the people of the Dutch province, Kieft deferred to that principle of no taxation without rep resentation which the people of the fatherland had forced their overlord Mary of Burgundy to recognize by the Great Charter of 1477. In the year when they were imposed upon New Netherland the first excise, as it chanced, was imposed in Massachusetts, a tax on liquors sold at retail.

During the month of June reenforcements reached Man hattan in an unexpected way. A band of Dutch soldiers and colonists from Brazil, where the West India Company was now meeting with reverses, had fled to Curacoa. As the gov ernor of this island, General Petrus Stuyvesant, was finding it hard to get food for his own troops and people, and as Kieft had asked him for aid, he sent the newcomers on to New Amsterdam. They came in the ship Blue Cock about two hundred persons, three or four score of them sol diers. Kieft decided to dismiss politely the ' English aux iliaries,' billeted the soldiers on the settlers, and in August, to supply them with clothes, continued by edict without the consent of the Eight Men the tax provisionally laid on beer, increasing the rate and ordering the brewers to make returns to him of the amount of beer they manufactured. Thus getting its first chance to protest against arbitrary taxation, loudly New Amsterdam protested. The people denounced Kieft's illegal course and the brewers refused to pay the tax, saying that if they consented they would have the Eight Men and the commonalty about their ears — on their neck' runs the Dutch idiom. Kieft then summoned them before his court, pronounced judgment against them, and gave their beer 'a prize to the soldiers.' The governor, it was charged against him, had now, in cluding fifty Englishmen, more than four hundred and fifty men at his command, yet he did nothing but quarrel and domineer, prosecute persons who spoke against him, and try in pettifogging ways to keep order in and around Fort Am sterdam As the farmers whose houses had been burned were afraid to return to their lands, and the soldiers were for the most part unemployed, idleness aided destitution to in crease disorder and dissension. The English soldiers were accused of cowardice and their leaders of drunken brawling. According to the affidavits of several eye-witnesses, when Kuyter's house on the Muscoota Flats was burned — an arrow tipped with a blue flame coming at twenty paces from the house between the dunghill and the cherry door,' falling on the thatch, and in a violent wind immediately wreathing the house in flames — the English soldiers hid in the cellar and would not come out till the danger was past. As for their leaders, one evening when the landlord of the City Tavern was entertaining Domine Bogardus, Dr. Kierstede, and sundry other Dutchmen and their wives, Captain Under hill appeared with his ' lieutenant' George Baxter (the gov ernor's English secretary) and Thomas Willett. Bursting the bolts and with their drawn swords' breaking the cans that hung on the shelves and hacking the posts and doors, they treated the guests with gross insolence, Underhill crying to the minister, 'Clear out of here, for I shall strike at random.' Even when the sheriff was sent for they refused to obey his order to depart, so to prevent more trouble the guests them selves departed, taking their revenge by lodging with Gov ernor Kieft a formal complaint against the brawlers.

In truth, evil conditions had inflamed bad passions of every sort. In earlier days Underhill had expressed for the savages a more Christian and pitiful feeling than the average New Englander felt ; but after his success on Long Island he killed three of his red captives and brought two to New Amsterdam where they were barbarously tortured and slain in the street in the presence of many lamenting squaws. It was said that Governor Kieft and Councillor La Montagne watched this hideous performance with approval, and that a white woman, Jan Jansen Dam's wife — Van Tienhoven's mother-in-law and the mother of Jan Vinje — kicked before her a severed head. Moreover, in defiance of local custom and sentiment Kieft sent some of his Indian captives as a present to the governor of Bermuda and gave others to certain old soldiers whom he `improvidently' permitted to return at this time to Holland.

Vile as were these outbreaks of passion there were few American communities that did not witness the like at one time or another. Not only was the selling of captives as slaves a common and lawful practice in New England : after the Pequot War, wrote Edward Johnson in his Wonder Work ing Providence, some youths and women were brought back as prisoners but the Indian men were thought so guilty that the soldiers `brought away only their heads' ; and in hours of bloody triumph torture was not unknown in New Eng land even in much later days than Governor Kieft's. The histories of King Philip's War, which broke out in 1675, tell of instances including one when a squaw was thrown to the dogs to be torn in pieces. Philip's head might long be seen set high upon a pole at Plymouth, and in the Bay Colony his hands were shown to the public for money.

In August, 1644, Cornelis Melyn addressed to the States General a petition setting forth the distressed state of the province, and in October the Eight Men, almost in despair, sent another Memorial, this time to the Amsterdam Chamber of the Company. It rehearsed the story of the war, blaming Kieft alike for its outbreak and for its long continuance. After the 'miraculous' arrival of reenforcements on the Blue Cock, it said, the people expected that he would take the field at once with between three and four hundred men but: Nothing in the least has been done therein . . . scarce a foot has been moved in the matter nor an oar laid in the water. . . . We understand here that the Director sent . . . by the Blue Cock a book ornamented with various pictures in water colors in which he dilates at length on the origin of the war. On that subject it contains as many lies as lines, as we are informed by the minister and others who have read it; and from our time to his, as few facts as leaves.

Kieft's book, the Eight Men furthermore explained, gave accounts of the animals and the products of New Netherland which he could know very little about as never since he came to the country had he been farther afield than halfway up the island of Manhattan. The document called the Journal of New Netherland is probably a surviving fragment of a copy of this book.

So long, said the Eight Men, had the governor delayed warlike operations that the winter season was now at hand when half-clothed, unshod men could hardly venture forth, least of all such as had been living for years in the hot climate of Brazil. The Memorial blamed for all the troubles it chron icled not only Director Kieft but also the Company which had put him in power and was doing nothing to aid its colo nists. The province, it declared, . . . is no longer of any or much account. Every place is going to ruin; neither counsel nor advice is taken; the only talk here is of princely sovereignty, about which La Montagne argued a few days ago in the tavern, maintaining that the power of the Director here was greater, as regards his office and commission, than that of His Highness of Orange in the Netherlands.

This is what we have in the sorrow of our hearts to complain of : That one man who had been sent out, sworn and instructed by his lords and masters to whom he is responsible, should dispose here of our lives and properties at his will and pleasure, in a manner so ar bitrary that a king dare not legally do the like.

This meant that the governor had dragged his people into an unjust and unnecessary war, had absolutely denied them the right of appeal to the authorities in Holland, had taxed them without their consent, had not called their Board of Eight Men together for six months despite the dangerous state of affairs, and had jeered and sneered at its members for offering him advice. Therefore on behalf of the people the Eight Men asked that Director Kieft be deposed and that a local government be established after the pattern of those in the fatherland: It is impossible to settle this country until a different system be introduced here and a new governor sent out with more people who will settle in suitable places, one near another, in the form of villages or hamlets, and elect from among themselves a Bailiff or Schout and Schepens who will be empowered to send their deputies and give their votes on public affairs with the Director and Council ; so that the entire country may not be hereafter at the whim of one man again reduced to a similar danger.

The petition of the Twelve Men for a voice in the provin cial government had been addressed only to Governor Kieft. This petition of the Eight Men — written by Andries Hudde, an educated man, the official land surveyor of the province was the first addressed to the owners and rulers of New Netherland. It was the first overt sign of the awakening of the spirit of resistance. It is a clear, frank, and dignified paper and, by virtue of the signatures attached to it, an in teresting witness to the democratic temper of New Amster dam. The representatives of the commonalty who set their names to it were Isaac Allerton the Pilgrim Father, Thomas Hall the ex-bondsman from Virginia, Cornelis Melyn a cul tivated Netherlander, Jochem Pietersen Kuyter a Danish naval officer, and four humbler Netherlanders, three of whom could sign only with marks.

Before any answer to this appeal could come Director Kieft, reproved and warned by his superiors in Holland, be stirred himself at last to pacify his province, and one of his helpers was another Captain De Vries — Captain Jan De Vries, or De Fries, the commander of the Blue Cock. By this time the Indians near Manhattan were almost as ex hausted as the whites, and famine stared all men in the face from the fields that had lain so long untilled. As seed-time came around again, in April, 1645, peace was concluded once more with the neighboring tribes, and some of the Long Island Indians were taken into service with the Dutch troops. Then Kieft left the shelter of his fort and, for the first time since his arrival seven years before, went up the river to Fort Orange. The Mohawks and their hereditary foes the Mohe gans signed treaties of peace with the white men, and as over lords of the River Indians the Mohawks promised to induce them to do the same. Kieft returned to Manhattan. On August 29 the inhabitants were summoned by the court messenger to repair to the fort when the bell should ring and the colors be raised, there to hear the articles of the proposed general treaty and freely to offer their advice. All, the mes senger reported, would attend, for all had answered kindly excepting only Hendrick Hendricksen the tailor. When they assembled no voice was raised against the terms of the treaty and, as its own words run, it was concluded . . . in the fort under the blue canopy of heaven in presence of the council of New Netherland and the whole community called to gether, also in presence of the Maquas' ambassadors . . . as mediators.

It was signed by seven sachems, by Governor Kieft, Coun cillor La Montagne, and Van der Huyckens the scho-ut-fiscal, and by the Board of Eight Men which this year included four Netherlanders and four Englishmen — Stoffelsen, Bout, Gys bert Op Dyck, and Oloff Stevensen, Underhill, Baxter, the Reverend Francis Doughty and Richard Smith.

Roger Williams was misinformed when, in the letter of 1654 that has already been cited, he said that . . . after vast expenses and mutual slaughters of Dutch, English, and Indians about four years, the Dutch were forced, to save their plantation from ruin, to make up a most unworthy and dishonorable peace with the Indians.

The war had lasted not four years but less than three, and the peace was not dishonorable. The white men and the red met each other upon equal terms and pledged themselves to the same line of conduct — above all, not to avenge individual wrongs individually but to apply for redress to the proper authorities, Dutch or Indian.

Nor, demoralized in many ways though the settlers were by their years of terror and suffering, were all their words and deeds dishonorable while the war lasted. It was in the dread ful year 1643 that they rescued and succored Father Jogues and Father Bressani. Jogues returned to Europe in the ship that carried the first Memorials of the Eight Men. His evidence regarding the governor's responsibility for the war, as quoted by another Jesuit, Father Buteux, corroborates that of Kieft's own people. Jogues had got the story from a Catholic Irish man who confessed to him on Manhattan.

Furthermore, one of the articles of the treaty of 1645 laid upon the Indians a solemn obligation to restore the little daughter of Mrs. Hutchinson whom they had carried off when they slew the other members of her household, the Dutchmen guaranteeing the ransom that her friends in Boston had offered. All the pledges written in the treaty were not fulfilled, but this one was. The child was brought to New Amsterdam and sent thence to Boston although, Winthrop relates, she had forgotten her native language and was loth to leave the Indians.

Through Anne Hutchinson's eldest son, Edward, who had not come with her to New Netherland the whirligig of time brought in revenges. One of his descendants was Thomas Hutchinson who, when the Revolution was impending, bore rule as a loyalist governor over the Bay Colony that had thrust the Antinomian woman from its doors. Then again the wheel turned and, like his ancestress, Thomas Hutchinson ended his life in exile.

kieft, governor, van, dutch and indians