MySource:Quolla6/Tuckerman, 1893:34 et seq

MySource Tuckerman, 1893:34 et seq
Year range -
Tuckerman, 1893:34 et seq.

From: Source:Tuckerman, 1893


But it was to the Indians that the Dutch looked for the supply of furs upon which their gains depended. For the better prosecution of the trade, the Hollanders made long journeys into the woods and encouraged the visits of the Indians to Manhattan. As competition increased, the traders sought to be nearer the base of supply, and made settlements at great distances from the fort, thus extending dangerously the population of the colony. The Indians visiting at the fort were treated too indulgently, allowed to lounge about, get drunk at the taverns, quarrel with one another and the Dutch, and worst of all to become acquainted with the slender defensive resources of the settlement. The savages, who at first dreaded a gun as "_the devil," no sooner understood its uses, than their eagerness to possess one made arms and ammunition the most profitable medium of exchange. The traders could not resist such a temptation as the offer of twenty beaver-skins for a gun. The people at Rensselaerwyck pushed this trade so far that the Mohawk nation was soon supplied with firearms, by the help of which they exacted tribute from the terror-stricken tribes of Canada, New England, and the Hudson River. At Manhattan, strenuous efforts were made to prevent the sale of guns to the neighbouring savages. But this prohibition so greatly aided the tyranny of the Mohawks,

that the river tribes became exasperated at what they deemed the unjust advantages accorded to their enemies by the Dutch. In 1640, when the friendship of the savages had become somewhat alienated by this quarrel, the headstrong Kieft was foolish enough to arouse their active hostility. Finding himself short of provisions, he proceeded to levy a tribute of corn upon the river tribes on the pretext that the Dutch protected them against their enemies. As we learn from De Vries, the Indians refused the payment, on just grounds. The Dutch had never protected them against the oppression of the Mohawks. " Kieft," they said, " must be a very shabby fellow; he had come to live in their land uninvited, and now sought to deprive them of their corn for nothing." They had paid for everything obtained from the Dutch; when the Hollanders, " having lost a ship there, built a new one [the "Restless"], they had supplied them with food and other necessaries, and had taken care of them for two winters until the ship was finished. . . . If we have ceded to you the country you are living in," they concluded, " we yet remain masters of what we have retained for ourselves." The estrangement brought about by the injudicious demands of the director soon entailed more serious complications. A trading party in the Raritan country complained of having been attacked by savages; and the theft of some hogs on Staten Island was too hastily attributed to the same source. The Dutch were inclined to treat the Indians well, and these difficulties might have been smoothed over. But Kieft, as the Company's director, had absolute authority in this matter, and he had resolved upon a violent policy. He now sent a party of seventy men into the Raritan country to seek reparation or revenge. Van Tienhoven, the secretary, who was placed in command, shared the director's animosity toward the Indians, and allowed his men to kill and plunder without attempting a peaceful negotiation. By such ill-advised injustice was made inevitable a condition of active war. It was not long before the Raritans had responded by burning De Vries's buildings on Staten Island, killing four of his men, and thus destroying that promising colony. While this unnecessary quarrel with the Raritans was in progress, an avoidable difficulty arose with the Weckquaesgeeks of Westchester. About ten years before this time a Weckquaesgeek, accompanied by his youthful nephew, was bringing peltry to New Amsterdam for sale. Some rough Dutchmen met them in the woods near the Kolck (a pond on the site of the Tombs prison), murdered and robbed the Indian, but allowed the boy to escape. The latter, having grown to manhood, savage custom required that he should avenge the death of his kinsman. In August, 1641, in pursuance of his obligation, he came down the trail to Manhattan, which skirted the East River. In the woods near Deutel Bay stood the lonely cottage of Claes, the smith. The Weckquaesgeek entered, offered a beaver in trade, and when the smith stooped to take an article from his chest, he killed him at a blow. The demands of the Dutch for the surrender of the murderer were met by a relation of the provocation and the claim of a just revenge. This circumstance was the more unfortunate, in that it gave Kieft an excuse for the policy of violence upon which he was resolved. The community was averse to extreme measures. The boweries were scattered and defenceless; while the people living about the fort might be secure, the outlying settlements were in danger of instant destruction. As De Vries declared, " It would not be advisable to attack the Indians until we have more people, like the English, who have built towns and villages." Moreover, there were not a few men in New Amsterdam who accused the director of seeking a war to conceal irregularities in his accounts with the Company. Others, again, reminded him that hostilities were not as attractive to them as to the official " who could secure his own life in a good fort, out of which he had not slept a single night in all the years he had been there." In face of this opposition, Kieft endeavoured to shift as much responsibility as he could upon other shoulders. Calling together the heads of families, he submitted to them the question whether or not the murder of Claes Smits should be avenged by the destruction of the village to which the assassin belonged. This, the first popular assembly held upon the territory of New York, elected twelve men to decide the question. These were Jacques Bentyn, Maryn Adriaensen, Jan Jansen Dam, Hendrick Jansen, David Pietersen de Vries, Jacob Stoffelsen, Abram Molenaar, Frederik Lubbertsen, Jochem Pietersen Kuyter, Gerrit Dircksen, George Rapelje, and Abram Verplanck. The Twelve Men gave as the result of their deliberations that " the director send further, once, twice, yea, for the third time, a shallop, to demand the surrender of the murderer in a friendly manner." This failing, revenge should be sought, but with a proper regard to " God and the opportunity." It would not do to bring a sudden war upon the scattered population. Peaceful relations should be kept up, and meanwhile the director should prepare arms for the soldiers and freemen. Finally, in case war became unavoidable, they hinted that Kieft himself " ought to lead the van." The director was little pleased with this result. In January, 1642, he called the Twelve Men together again, represented to them that the murderer of Claes had not been surrendered, and that a favourable moment for reprisals had arrived, the Indians being dispersed on their hunting expeditions. Kieft's authority was nearly unrestricted in the colony. The Council which should have limited it had but one member, Dr. La Montagne. The reader will recollect occasions in history when, on a greater scene and in more important emergencies, the monarch who has sought the assistance of his subjects for the prosecution of war has been forced to grant reforms as a preliminary condition. In this situation the director of New Netherland now found himself. The Twelve Men, instead of giving the expected consent, demanded some of the political privileges to which they had been accustomed in Holland. Four representatives, elected by the peo-

pie, should sit on the Council Board to save " the land from oppression; " the militia should be properly organized; and every freeman should have liberty to visit and to trade with vessels arriving in port. Kreft promised these concessions, meaning never to carry them out. The Twelve Men then gave their consent to an expedition against the Weckquaesgeeks. This point secured, the director announced that he did not consider that the Twelve had " received from the Commonalty larger powers than simply to give their advice regarding the murder of the late Claes Smits." He then issued a proclamation in form, dissolving the Twelve and forbidding further political meetings of the people, as tending " to dangerous consequences and to the great injury both of the country and of our authority." The long talked-of expedition against the Weckquaesgeeks took place in March. Kieft declined "_to lead the van," and the command devolved upon Ensign Hendrick van Dyck. The guide missed his way, the soldiers wandered aimlessly about, and returned to the fort without firing a shot. The Indians, discovering from the Dutch trail the danger from which they had escaped, now sent messengers to Manhattan to sue for peace. Van Tienhoven, the secretary, went to Westchester, and at the house of Jonas Bronck, on the Bronx River, a treaty was arranged, by which the Weckquaesgeeks agreed to surrender the murderer. This promise was not fulfilled; but the treaty served to maintain peace for some months. The year 1643 opened ominously. In both New

England and New Netherland prevailed a vague terror of impending Indian troubles. The great sachem Miantonomoh was reported to be circulating among all the tribes to organize a general attack upon the whites. The inhabitants of the boweries distant from Manhattan looked anxiously into the forests about them, hardly doubting from day to day that the war-whoop would resound from them. In an atmosphere so charged with alarms, a slight incident might have grave results. One day in January De Vries was strolling about the woods near Vriesendael, gun on shoulder, in search of game. Suddenly an Indian, excited by drink, approached the patroon, " stroked him over the arms as a sign of good-will," and thus addressed him : " You are a good chief; when we visit you, you give us milk to drink for nothing. But I have just come from Hackinsack, where they sold me brandy half mixed with water, and then stole my beaver-skin coat." Notwithstanding the patroon's remonstrances, the injured savage declared that he should get his bow and arrows, and kill one of the " roguish Swanne- kins." De Vries, fearful of trouble, hastened over to Hackinsack, Van der Horst's bowery, and warned the inhabitants of the danger which their conduct had provoked. On his return to Vriesendael, there appeared several chiefs of the Hackinsacks and Rechawancks, who related that the harm had already been done. The Indian had shot a Dutchman named Garret Jansen van Voorst, at Hackinsack, as he was thatching a roof. The chiefs had hastened to Vriesendael to offer the blood atonement of money

the usual Indian expiation of murder), and to secure the mediation of De Vries in favour of peace. The latter, knowing the provocation received by the murderer, and that the choice lay between the acceptance of these well-meant offers and a bloody war, himself accompanied the Indians to the fort, and supported their cause. They had much to plead in their favour. " Why do you sell brandy to our young men?" they said to Kieft. "They are not used to it; it makes them crazy. Even your own people, who are accustomed to strong liquors, sometimes become drunk, and fight with knives. Sell no more strong drink to the Indians, if you would avoid mischief." To their offer of atonement to the widow, Kieft would not listen. The person of the murderer must be surrendered. The Indians replied that this they could not do : he had gone off two days' journey among the Tan- kitekes. Thus the efforts of De Vries to preserve peace were foiled by the obstinacy and bad judgment of Kieft. In February, the Mohawks, armed with the guns obtained from the traders at Rensselaerwyck, made their annual descent upon the Algonquin tribes, in the vicinity of Manhattan, to plunder and levy tribute. De Vries awoke one morning to find his bowery filled with hundreds of starved and terror- stricken fugitives, seeking food and protection from the Mohawks. He had but five men besides himself to defend Vriesendael. It jvas 'the depth of winter, and the river was full of floating ice. But he embarked alone in a canoe, and made his way pain-

ully to Manhattan, where he asked the director for the assistance of a few soldiers. Kieft refused it. Almost immediately large numbers of fugitive Indians, including many from Vriesendael, camped with the Hackinsacks near the oyster banks of Pavonia, depending in their danger upon the protection of the Dutch at the fort. The wise De Vries saw the opportunity offered by this emergency to win the lasting gratitude and friendship of the savages. He pointed out earnestly to Kieft that by affording these people in their hour of suffering the assistance they asked, the disputes of the past would be forgotten, and a permanent peace secured. But Kieft had neither wisdom nor humanity. Hatred of the savages and love of revenge hurried him on his fatal course. The measures to be taken were concerted in secret with some of his boon companions. Accompanied by Van Tienhoven, he went to dine at the house of Jan Jansen Dam, and there met Verplanck and Adriaensen. — two others who had belonged to the Twelve Men. After dinner, the wily Van Tienhoven presented to the director a petition which purported to come from the Twelve Men. In this, it was urged that the murderers of Smits and of Van Voorst had not been given up, that circumstances had placed the savages in the power of the Dutch, and that a favourable moment had arrived to snatch an easy vengeance. The men there present had no right to speak for the Twelve, whom Kieft had formally dissolved in the previous year; but the excuse of the petition was enough for the purposes of the bloodthirsty direc-

tor. Van Tienhoven and Corporal Hans Steen were sent to reconnoitre the position of the Indians, and to plan the attack. There was no lack of opposition to these proceedings. Domine Bogardus protested vehemently; La Montagne foretold that " war would stalk through the whole country." De Vries learned of the proceedings at Dam's house with disgust and dismay. He went immediately to the fort, and as a former member of the Twelve denied that that body had given its consent or had even been consulted. In vain he pointed out to Kieft the folly of his course, and the certainty that the scattered settlers, taken unawares, would be massacred on their boweries. But the director would reply only that his measures had been taken with the consent of the Commonalty, and leading De Vries to the window, pointed out triumphantly the soldiers drawn up in review within the fort. " Let this work alone ! " cried De Vries; " you want to break the Indians' mouths, but you will also murder our own people." " The order has gone forth," replied Kieft, obstinately, " it cannot be recalled." That night De Vries sat by the kitchen fire in the director's house, sorrowfully reflecting on the criminal folly which was plunging the colony into ruin. He was alone in the fort; not even a sentinel had been left behind. " About midnight," he says, " hearing loud shrieks, I ran to the ramparts of the fort. Looking toward Pavonia, I saw nothing but shooting, and heard nothing but the shrieks of Indians murdered in their sleep." He had returned sadly to the kitchen fire, when an Indian and his

squaw, who had escaped from Pavonia in a canoe, burst into the room. "The Fort Orange Indians have fallen upon us," they cried; "we have come to hide ourselves in the fort." " It is no time to hide yourselves in the fort," replied the patroon, who recognized the savages as neighbours at Vries- endael; " no Indians have done this deed. It is the work of the Swannekins, — the Dutch." He led them to the gate of the fort, and pointed to the woods beyond as their only place of safety. The night attack upon the unsuspecting Indians resulted in a general massacre of the families at Pavonia and at Corlaer's Hook. Neither women nor children were spared. The next morning the director enjoyed his momentary triumph, and greeted the " Roman achievements " of his soldiery with hand-shakings and gifts of money. Kieft's bad example was soon followed by the turbulent element of the Long Island settlers, who wantonly attacked the friendly tribe of Marechka- wiecks, killing several, and stealing their corn. This outrage was the more stupid, as the enmity of the Long Island Indians left the Dutch surrounded by foes. Eleven tribes now rose in furious war. On the Hudson River, in Westchester, on Long Island, the forests resounded with their cries, and every outlying bowery suffered attack. The farmers, with such of their families as survived, fled to Manhattan, and camped about the fort. The ships in the harbour became crowded with people anxious to return to Holland. To keep the homeless and angry colonists from starving, Kieft had to take them into the pay

of the Company as soldiers. Even Vriesendael did not escape. The savages destroyed the out-buildings and gathered crops, while De Vries and his men awaited behind the loopholes of his house the final attack. But at this juncture the Indian whom De Vries had befriended on the night of the Pavonia massacre reminded the attacking party of the pa- troon's constant friendship; and the savages departed, saying that they would do the good chief no more harm, and would even let the brewery stand, although they " longed for the copper kettle to make barbs for their arrows." Leaving the smouldering ruins of his beloved Vriesendael, De Vries went down to Manhattan. " Has it not happened just as I said," he demanded of Kieft, " that you were only helping to shed Christian blood?" The director could make no answer. He stammered out his surprise that the Indians had not come to the fort to make terms. "_Why should they come here," asked De Vries, " whom you have so treated ? " Kieft was now as much alarmed as he had been confident before, and sent messengers to the Long Island Indians to ask for peace. But the savages would not even parley. "Are you our friends?" they cried from a distance. " You are only corn thieves ! " The director's position became daily more uncomfortable. Manhattan was crowded with widows, with fatherless children, with farmers, who mourned the loss of buildings, crops, and relatives. It was winter, and shelter for the homeless was hard to find. Provisions were growing scarce. Dark

looks and angry words met Kieft at every turn. Within two weeks of his vain boast that he would make the Indians " wipe their chops," he could find no palliation for the calamities which he had brought upon the colony other than to proclaim the fourth of March as a day of fasting and prayer. " We continue to suffer," the proclamation ran, " much trouble and loss from the heathen, and many of our inhabitants see their lives and property in jeopardy, which is doubtless owing to our sins." But Kieft's day of fasting did not help him much. A number of burghers talked plainly of putting the director on board of a ship bound for Holland ; others upbraided him even in the fort. To all he had but one reply to make: the responsibility rested with Adriaensen, Dam, and Verplanck, who, as members of the Twelve, had urged the midnight attack. But the retort of the burghers was conclusive : " You forbade those freemen to meet, on pain of punishment for disobedience ; how came it then?" Among the most furious was Adriaensen himself, who had not only signed the petition, but had commanded the expedition which murdered forty Weckquaesgeeks at Corker's Hook. Ruined by the destruction of his own bowery, and stung by the reproaches of his companions, he resented Kieft's attempt to make him responsible. On the morning of March 21 he forced his way, armed, into the director's room, shouting: " What lies are these you are reporting of me? " He was arrested. But a party of his friends and servants came to his rescue, and one of them fired at the director. The

man was shot, and his head set upon a pole, while Adriaensen was sent to Holland. In this distracted state of the colony Kieft listened at last to De Vries. The latter, accompanied by Jacob Olfertsen, sought out the Indians in the woods, and his influence brought about a peace. But Kieft, persistently wrong, was niggardly with his gifts. The atonement was not sufficient, and De Vries knew well that, although the Indians were willing to observe a truce until their corn was planted, the chiefs could not restrain their young men from finally seeking a full revenge for the dead whom they mourned. And so it proved. In August, the Tankitekes of Haverstraw and the Wappingers of the Highlands dug up the hatchet, killing fifteen Dutchmen along the river, and plundering the fur- laden sloops coming down from Fort Orange. Kieft called the burghers together to assist him in this new emergency. By them an advisory board was chosen known as the Eight Men, consisting of Jochem Pietersen Kuyter, Cornelis Melyn, Jan Jansen Dam, Barent Dircksen, Abraham Pietersen, Gerrit Wolfertsen, Isaac Allerton, and Thomas Hall. The first two, Kuyter and Melyn, henceforth took in the affairs of the colony a leading part, which was destined to make much trouble for them in Stuyvesant's time. Allerton, a Mayflower emigrant, had come to Manhattan from Plymouth. His presence on the board and that of Hall showed the growing influence of the English in the colony. The Eight Men began their proceedings by expelling Dam on account of his part in bringing about

the Pavonia massacre, and chose in his place Jan Evertsen Bout. The prosecution of hostilities was then authorized. The director took into the Company's service fifty Englishmen, who were about to leave the unhappy colony, and placed at their head Capt. John Underbill, the hardy soldier whose services to New England in the Pequod War had not prevented his banishment thence for religious differences. But, as De Vries had pointed out before, the colony was too scattered to admit of defence. In September, the Weckquaesgeeks murdered Anne Hutchinson and her family at Annie's Hoeck, in Westchester. Lady Deborah Moody's settlement of English people from Salem at Gravesend, Long Island, barely escaped with their lives by hard fighting. Doughty's prosperous colony at Mespath was destroyed. The Hackinsacks burned Van der Horst's buildings at Achter Cul. The village at Pavonia was burned in October, and the garrison killed to a man, — although Stoffelsen, who was in charge and had shown the Indians kindness, was sent away by them on some pretext before the attack. Van Voorst's little son was made captive, and De Vries had to go into the forest to obtain his release. Thus, from the Highlands to the Housatonic River, the province of New Netherland was desolated. The surviving farmers camped with their families about the fort. Above the Kolck but a few boweries maintained armed possession. New Amsterdam itself was in danger. Men gathering firewood as far north as Wall Street were constantly

fired at. Van Dyck was shot in the arm while relieving guard. Provisions were falling short, and yet Kieft allowed two vessels laden with grain to sail for Curacoa. An application for assistance sent to New Haven by Allerton and Underhill resulted in failure. At this sad time New Netherland lost its best friend. De Vries, the bold sea-captain and enterprising patroon, left the colony forever. His public spirit, his rough wisdom, his tact in dealing with the Indians would have given to New Netherland a happy history had he been in the place of the director. His boweries were in ruins, and the prospect of rebuilding them became daily more remote. A herring-buss from Rotterdam came through Hell Gate, whose skipper had failed to sell his cargo of Madeira in New England " because the English there lived soberly." He wanted a pilot to guide him to Virginia, and De Vries took the opportunity to return to Holland. Before embarking, the patroon went up to the fort. " The murders in which you have shed so much innocent blood," he said to Kieft, '•' will yet be avenged upon your own head," — a prophecy before long fulfilled. During the winter of 1644 the Dutch sent out expeditions against the Indians in Westchester and on the great plains of Long Island, under Van Dyck, Kuyter, and Underhill, in which the Christian showed himself to be no less cruel than the heathen. But Kieft was much straitened in his supply of provisions for the people, and of ammunition for the

soldiery. A bill of exchange which he had drawn on the West India Company in the previous autumn had returned protested. The unprofitable wars waged against the Portuguese and Spaniards in South America had brought the Company to bankruptcy. At this juncture, a vessel arrived in port with a cargo of supplies sent by the patroon to his colony of Rensselaerwyck. The skipper, Peter Wynkoop, having refused to sell shoes for the soldiers at Manhattan, Kieft had the ship searched, and finding goods not included in the manifest he confiscated both ship and cargo. The ammunition and clothing thus acquired not proving sufficient, the director levied a tax on beer, which excited great opposition among the impoverished people. The Eight Men remonstrated justly, on the ground that the Company had formally agreed to defray all the expenses of war. " I have more power here than the Company itself," replied Kieft; "therefore I may do and suffer in this country what I please. I am my own master, for I have my commission not from the Company, but from the States-General." Kuyter, Melyn, and Hall of the Eight who went to the fort to protest against the tax were allowed to kick their heels in the director's hall for four hours, and to depart "as wise as they came." In July a Dutch vessel called the "Blue-Cock" arrived from Curacoa, containing a hundred and thirty soldiers sent by Peter Stuyvesant, the governor there. The burghers hailed the arrival of these men as a means of terminating the Indian war during the summer. But Kieft quartered the soldiers on the Common- alty, and took no warlike steps. All summer, " scarce a foot was moved on land or an oar laid in the water." The Eight Men, exasperated by the sufferings of the colony, now apparently interminable, saw that their only hope of redress lay in applications to the States-General and the West India Company. Kuyter and Melyn were the authors of a vigorous memorial sent out in the " Blue-Cock." " Our fields lie fallow and waste," said the Eight; "our dwellings and other buildings are burnt. The crop which God the Lord permitted to come forth during the last summer remains on the field, as well as the hay standing in divers places, whilst we poor people have not been able to obtain a single man for our defence. We are burdened with heavy families; have no means to provide necessaries any longer for our wives and children. We are seated here in the midst of thousands of Indians and barbarians, from whom is to be experienced neither peace nor pity. We have left our fatherland, and had not the Lord our God been our comfort, must have perished in our wretchedness. There are men amongst us who by the sweat and labour of their hands have been endeavouring at great expense to improve their lands and gardens. ... All these are now laid in ashes through a foolish hankering after war; for it is known to all right-thinking men here that these Indians have lived as lambs amongst us until a few years ago, injuring no one, affording every assistance to our nation. The director hath, by various uncalled-for proceedings, so estranged

them from us, and so embittered them against the Dutch nation, that we do not think anything will bring them back, unless the Lord God, who bends all men's hearts to his will, propitiates them." The memorials of the Eight Men were considered by the College of the XIX. at the end of 1644. They were conclusive in their description of the misgovernment of the colony, and moreover had the support of De Vries. The West India Company, now bankrupt, was seeking to merge itself with the successful East India Company. An examination into the affairs of New Netherland revealed the fact that instead of the long looked-for profits, the colony had cost, from 1626 to 1644, over five hundred and fifty thousand guilders above the receipts. But the College of the XIX. considering that the Company had promised to assist the colony, and that there might yet be some hope for it, resolved that the directors could not " decently or consistently abandon it." Kieft's policy was condemned, his acts repudiated, and he and his Council were ordered to Holland to assume responsibility for the " bloody exploit" at Pavonia and Corlaer's Hook. A new director was to be sent out and the administration thoroughly reformed. In the spring of 1645 the Indians, themselves, weary of war, made proposals of peace. The negotiations were long; but on the 2Oth of August the burghers assembled joyfully at the fort, where the articles of the treaty were submitted to their approval. None objected but Hendrick Kip, who opposed all the proposals of the director, on princi-

pie. The next day was set apart as a day of thanksgiving, and in all the English and Dutch churches it was ordered " to proclaim the good tidings throughout New Netherland." But during the five years of war the colony had been nearly depopulated ; hardly more than three hundred freemen remained capable of bearing arms, and all were impoverished. The news of Kieft's repudiation and recall made life at Manhattan very uncomfortable for him. Surrounded by men who attributed to him their ruin, he was often threatened with personal chastisement when he should " take off the coat with which he was bedecked by the lords his masters." All this provoked Kieft to reprisals, and the fort was the scene of constant turmoil. Domine Bogardus arraigned him from the pulpit as " a vessel of wrath and a fountain of woe and trouble; " to which Kieft replied by causing the garrison to beat drums and discharge cannon about the church during the time of the domine's discourse. The colony at Rensselaenvyck, having kept on good terms with the surrounding Mohawks, had escaped the Indian war, and formed the most prosperous portion of New Netherland. Nature was profuse in her gifts. The river abounded with sturgeon and the brooks with trout. Nuts, plums, blackberries, and grapes were to be had on all sides for the picking. The wild strawberries grew so thickly that the children had but to lie down and eat. Deer, turkeys, partridges, and pigeons were abundant. The lazy burgher could get a fat buck from an Indian in exchange for a pipe. Arendt van Curler, the agent for the patroon, received the emigrants, allotted them land, and administered a rude justice. In 1642, Domine Johannes Mega- polensis was sent out by the Classis of Alckmaar, and he preached to both Dutch and Indian. The fur-trade was a steady source of income, although the independent traders who came up the river curtailed seriously the patroon's profits. To remedy this abuse, Van Rensselaer ordered Van Curler to stop illicit trading, and to preserve his exclusive rights as the " first and oldest" patroon on the North River. For this purpose, in 1644, Van Curler erected a fort on Beeren Island commanding both channels of the river, to which he gave the name of Rensselaerstein. The Dutch claim of " staple right " was set up, a toll of five guilders was levied on passing vessels, and all were ordered to strike their colors to the fort in homage to the patroon in whose territory they were. Nicholas Koorn was appointed " wacht-meester " to enforce these rules. In July, Govert Loockermans, a leading burgher of New Amsterdam, was sailing down the river in his sloop, the "Good Hope," laden with furs collected in the country above. As the " Good Hope " floated lazily past the fort, her crew were surprised to hear a cannon discharged thence, and the voice of Koorn from the ramparts, shouting, — " Strike thy colours ! " Loockermans was at the helm. " For whom shall I strike?" he inquired. " For the staple right of Rensselaerstein," shouted Koorn, grandly.

I strike for nobody," retorted Loockermans, " but the Prince of Orange, or those by whom I am employed." The sloop passing defiantly on, three shots were fired from the fort, one of which passed through Loockerman's " princely flag," just above his head. Thus began a long struggle between the authorities of New Netherland and of Rensselaerwyck. Nicholas Koorn was immediately summoned before the Council at Manhattan, and a lively dispute took place between him and Van der Huygens, the schout-fiscal. The latter protested against the patroon's attempt to control the Hudson River, while Koorn maintained the right of the patroon, derived from the States-General, to fortify and protect his colony. And there the contention rested until Stuyvesant's time. The other Dutch possessions in America were faring badly. The South or Delaware River had been explored by Hendricksen in 1616, and in 1623 a beginning was made by the erection of Fort Nassau, on the Jersey shore, about four miles below Philadelphia. In 1631, the patroon Godyn and his partners established the colony of Swaanendael on the Delaware side. But in 1638 Peter Minuit, the former director of Manhattan, brought a party of Swedes into the river, who built Fort Christina, disregarded Kieft's remonstrances, and by superior enterprise soon made themselves masters in that country. The Dutch were still less successful in opposing the encroachments on their eastern boundaries by the English. Western Connecticut belonged by discovery and by the erection of Fort Good Hope to New Netherland. But the New England people moved steadily westward, taking up good lands wherever they found them, replying to Dutch remonstrances that the soil was too rich to be left idle. They settled all around the Fort Good Hope, making that Dutch stronghold the favourite subject of their jokes. The turnips planted by Op Dyck and his men were cooked in New England kettles, and the soldier who objected got a buffeting for his pains. The English ploughman ran his furrows close to the walls of the fort, and complained of the obstruction. The garrison that nominally held Connecticut for the West India Company found themselves living in an English community, with the town of Hartford growing up before them. The Dutch claim was undoubtedly good, but there was no force to prevent the all-absorbing English immigration. The New England people were already at Stamford, and the eastern end of Long Island was within their grasp. In 1640, the Lynn emigrants at Cow Bay pulled down the arms of Holland and left in their place "an unhandsome face."